#I even miss dealing with passagers!

[boyapologist]

I miss working :(

[moe-broey]

NOT a Three Houses hater for the record. More of a fake fan than anything LMFAOOOOO

[hom3landr]

So, I have an honest question. Homelander is used to his bday being a huge deal, but what if the person he is interested in doesn't care about their own bday?

Like he has known them for a year, and they never celebrated their own bday nor ever hinted at it. How do you think he'd react?

Birthday Blues

Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader

Homelander hates when you keep secrets from him. But what’s merely a harmless fact to you pokes a sore spot that you never expected.

You hear him before you see him, eyebrow raising at the angry stomp of his footsteps. You’re finishing up the chapter of the book you’re reading and you hope he doesn’t have beef with you because then who knows when you’ll get back to it. You read as fast as you can, words almost blurring as you hastily scan the page. But alas, before you reach the last sentence, your book is cruelly ripped from you.

Homelander stands over your place on the couch, one hand perched on his hip while the other points your book at you as a replacement for his “oh so imposing” finger that he loves to wave at you. His brow is knitted and there’s no doubt that whatever has his feathers ruffled has something to do with you. You lean back and sigh, contemplating how long you should let him ramble before attempting to calm him down. He’s cute when he’s angry. You can live with a lecture when he looks so good doing it. Although you’re hardly feeling charitable at the moment due to him snatching your book like some kind of barbarian.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?!” He hisses at you, dropping your book with a thump as he places both hands jauntily on his hips. His jaw clenches as he waits for your answer.

You freeze.

Huh?

You don’t know what you expected but it certainly isn’t that. You had expected him to be fussy about you grabbing a drink with Starlight the other night or helping Ashley with some insane task he gave so he could watch her squirm. You missed a call from him earlier, that tends to set him off. You’d even believe he was feeling sensitive about you waking up before him and grabbing a coffee instead of a good morning kiss. Any of those would be easy to assume. But no, he’s apparently worked up that you didn’t tell him your birthday.

You figured Homelander isn’t a fan of birthdays. He certainly seems cynical about his own. He hasn’t told you the whole story but when he grits his teeth at his birthday obligations instead of basking in the cheers of the crowd, you can easily make the assumption that it’s a sore subject. You don’t have any hang ups about your own birthday but it just never seemed like a big deal to you. It’s just a day. Perhaps too many sneak attacks from the singing staff at restaurants traumatized you. Maybe it’s because birthday cake is always too sickly sweet. Or possibly you just don’t feel like celebrating the passage of time. You never tell people and people rarely ask.

Yet, you can tell by the petulant twist of his mouth that he’s not just angry but hurt that you didn’t share it with him.

“I’m…sorry. I just don’t really think about it that much.” You reply with a confused shrug. His mouth twitches and you know he’s not satisfied with that answer. He’s taking this awfully personally and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. It’s just a day.

“Are you trying to fuck with me? So next time we argue you can bring up what a horrible boyfriend I am for ignoring your birthday! You gonna gossip about it over cocktails with fucking Starlight?” He spits out her name like a curse. You want to roll your eyes but you don’t fancy Homelander flying you to the top of a skyscraper and leaving you there like the last time you tried that. You sigh and reach out to take his hand. He jerks it away petulantly for a moment but when you reach for it again he allows your touch.

“That would make me a pretty shitty partner. I’m not trying to play games with you. I’ve just never really had strong feelings about my birthday. That’s all. I promise.” You squeeze his hand and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather of his glove. He pouts.

“I’m not a bad boyfriend.” He huffs. You gently tug his hand and guide him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. It only takes a few strokes of his hair before he deflates like a balloon. He turns to snuggle his face into your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighs into your shirt. You shush him gently.

“You’re my good boy. I know you wouldn’t forget on purpose. You take such good care of me. But why do you care so much about my birthday?” You switch from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s easily mollified today and it further confirms your suspicions that his feelings were deeply wounded. He desperately needs reassurance when that happens. It’s sweet.

“Did you know that my birthday is fake? Corporate decided on it. I don’t even have one since I was…” He trails off and your heart squeezes painfully. He’s cagey about his past but every so often new details will slip out and it horrifies you every time. You continue to sooth him even as your stomach twists unpleasantly. “But you do have one and you don’t even care! Do you know how fucking spoiled you are?”

You ignore the jab although your hackles rise. Poking his ego now would prove disastrous. So you swallow your pride and continue to let him vent.

“I don’t want you keeping things like that from me. You’re mine and I deserve to know things about you. How can I trust you when you won’t even tell me your fucking birthday.” He huffs and you can feel him stiffen up as he works himself back up into an angry spiral. He nips at your stomach hard enough to bruise and you tug on his hair harshly as a reprimand.

“This isn’t me intentionally keeping some secret from you. I don’t tell anybody.” You pause briefly as an idea hits you. “But…maybe it’s your birthday today too.” You answer and he pulls himself away to fix you with a bemused glare. His brow twitches as he processes what you said

“I mean, if you don’t know the actual day. Then technically every day can be your birthday. It’s like Schrodinger's Cat. Screw corporate, pick your own birthday.” You give his shoulder a little shake and your heart lifts when the corner of his mouth tilts into a little smile.

“It’s my birthday today too then. Now you have to celebrate.” He gives you a smug grin and you ruffle his hair fondly. The hurt still lingers. This is a mere bandage over the leaking wound you know still remains. But if you can ease his burden even a little, you’re happy to do so. Even if it means making a big deal out of your birthday.

“The mighty Homelander sharing the spotlight with a humble human like me? It’s pretty scandalous.” You tease and he turns his head to kiss the sore spot where he bit you. He nuzzles into you one last time before sitting up. He leans in to rub his nose against yours, desperately seeking intimacy in such a vulnerable moment.

“No spotlight,” He whispers. “Just you and me.”

You smile and pull him into a chaste kiss. He whines at the brevity of it and you place another cheeky kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Just you and me.”

He grins and his eyes fill with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“That means it’s time for your birthday spankings” He reaches out to swat you when you bolt with a wild laugh, careening and slipping around his apartment in your socks as he gives chase. You realize as you shriek at his games that maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all…at least as long as no one sings to you.

[atzfilm]

𝐚𝐭𝐳𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ

all works of writing/summaries are not owned by me, and all credits go to the respective writers! this list will be updated periodically with stories i have read ♡ i thought that as a writer myself who consumes talented stories on this site, it would be good for me to show you all a fraction of what i read myself tehe (i read majority poly!teez/mc so that category will be filled!!) ☆

— note: 90% of these fics will contain mature themes, since it's all i read! please read the specific author's notes before reading!

❤︎ - personal favorites

ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ

— ❤︎ mists of celeste (??/reader, several pairings) by @hongism

genre: scifi/space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut, fluff

summary: sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.

notes: as an atiny on tumblr.com, i feel like it's a rite of passage to read moc. it's one of the best written works i have had the privilege of reading. it's gripping, it's heartbreaking, it's filled with yearning and love, and has you hoping that the characters survive this ordeal. san i love you most you can tell by the masterlist alone that she has crafted a whole space pirate universe intricately and with the utmost care. she deals with the trauma of the characters so so well and i cant lie ive cried a lot reading it jdhdksjddj, it's the fic that made me start reading ateez ff, i mean, i started reading before even knowing ateez and i had to have a separate tab open to remember who was who. that alone can tell you how much of a work of art this is. omg, im blabbering, but please read this.

— hotel california (ot8/reader) by @mint-yooxgi

genre: yandere, demon!au

summary: checking in to a hotel ran by yandere!Ateez, the boys decide she can no longer leave

my notes: im not too sure how i came across this work, i think it was an endless scroll of me trying to find something to read, but nevertheless, this story. i have not finished it yet (a great and utter pity) but from what ive read so far. im actually very concerned on how much ive read of this in one night 😨, i think the plot is so so unique, i love a strong mc who does not take any shit whatsoever, i love gaslighting demon!ateez 🙂‍↕️. i had to stare at the wall several times while reading,, felt like jim in the office truly. UGH it's just so good??? i can't recommend enough!! PLEASE READ.

— ❤︎ the answer (ot8?/reader, side pairings) by @berryunho

genre: cult au, thriller

summary: life is great until your best friend goes missing your senior year of university, leaving little more than an apology and goodbye. Months later, you’re determined to find out what happened to him and discover a situation much more complicated than you would have ever anticipated - as in - Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers 'sect.'

my notes: i first discovered this fic on ao3 and somehow found out lauren had a tumblr blog but i digress – i found this one night and was so excited that i found something so so unique and different and i am pretty sure i didn't sleep until 4am reading everything omg . it's truly so funny and i adore the main character more than anything, the snide remarks truly encompass and make you feel their emotions? cult leader hongjoong is something else... without spoiling hfjdjf. i beg lauren often for a spoiler because it's just that good. please read.

— OUTLAW (ot8/reader, side pairings) by @staytinyville

genre: wild west!au, smut(?), angst

summary: you thought you would be spending the rest of your life tending to the hotel your family ran. while you knew it was common to see bandits come and go in your town, you felt safe in your home. at least safe enough with a weapon at your disposal. however you were no match for eight men who were known to most as outlaws around the plains. hawt kind of adventures did they go on?

my notes: i started reading this a while back and have yet to finish, but so far the premise is so so so interesting and i love readying cowboy aus rjkfjkdrfkj ITS SO GOOD!!!! I CANT WAIT TO CATCH UP

— sway with me (ot8/reader, wooyoung/reader) by @luvt0kki

genre: sci-fi/space/futuristic!au

summary: former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

my notes: tokki already knows all of this but,,, i started this a month or so ago? and i read the first chapter and i legit lost my mind,,, in the calmest way possible... the first chapter is gripping and it sets a environment that i very much would love to live in??? it's just so so well written, and the reader is very much my type NDFAKKJ ANYWAY... it's told from the pov of wooyoung and i love it??? so MUCH?? please read ok bye

— one more rep (woosan x reader) by @cheollipop

genre: smut, f2l, trainers woosan

summary: san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up.

my notes: ???? i actually read this a few times,,,, this fic yall.... i cannot... the mental image of woosan in the gym makes me delusional enoughdsjkaskfjksd PLEASE.

— like a dream (yungi x reader) by cheollipop

genre: bf!yungi, smut

summary: with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream.

my notes: yunho and mingi are my weakness,, so the both of them together.....

sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

to be added!

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

— horizon by @pxedpiper (ft. ateez/f.reader)

genre: pirate!au

summary: once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

my notes: i just found this the other day but remembering reading it a while ago! it's so so well written and i enjoyed it sm 🥹

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

to be added!

ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ

to be added!

sᴀɴ

to be added!

ᴍɪɴɢɪ

— safe haven (mingi/reader) by @atxxzist

genre: bodyguard!au, fluff

summary: your father has had enough of your shit, and hires Song Mingi; his best friend's son, to be your personal bodyguard

my notes: is it possible to fall down the mingi hole deeper than i already have? maybe! this fic pretty much lives in my head,,, endlessly,,,, i love mingi. i love this au so much and i especially love bodyguard aus, i think it's one of my favorite genres and this deepens it.... PLEASE READ.

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

— rough rider (wooyoung x afab!reader) by @choism

genre: smut

summary: In which you meet a hot twink at a club who has a slightly unhealthy obsession with the 2000's and y2k bimbocore.

my notes: i......... there's no way i can describe this fic... if u yearn for wooyoung the way i do. read this.

— what happened to slow down? (bf!wooyoung x reader) by @ja3hwa

genre: smut

summary: coming back from a house party, you and woo couldn't seem to keep your hands off one another. everything was happening so fast. you two didn't even make it to the bedroom.

my notes: insert a photo of someone throwing a phone and screaming crying, then picking it up to read the rest. thats me kjrfakfajkf

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

to be added!

[infamous-if]

✮ CH. 2 PART I ✮ 92k (+86k) -> 178k ✮

PLAY CHAPTER 2: PART I

It's here! First, sorry for the long wait. Chapter 2 has proven to be a behemoth, and I'd gotten sick this past week, my computer broke, my documents went kaput and I had to do some Frankensteining for the last few pages of this part. I'm not too worried, as Part II update can help smooth out all the kinks. I will definitely be looking for beta testers once chapter 2 is complete ha

Anywho! Enough about my problems. This demo update adds 86k words (86, 818 to be exact) and is the first part of a two part chapter. Which means the narrative in this chapter is not complete, but I kind of closed it off at a pretty satisfying place. As with every Infamous chapter, this is very character driven. So have fun!

What to expect in Chapter Two PART I:

get on the bus & deal with the consequences of your actions lol

arrive to your first tour stop and do your first gig...which might get messy (both literally and figuratively)

hang with a familiar father and daughter duo

have some heart to hearts/ some cheeky little POV passages

meet more BOTB crew and learn exactly what's in store for you this season

get roped in some ValenReign mess !

Maintenance:

this chapter has a lot of flavor text, or at least, more than the demo did, so if there are any errors or if there are lines that don't correspond with your choices, please let me know so i can fix that!

you will no longer be forced to write your own lyrics and the update will offer you pre-written lyrics by yours truly. im not t swift so i would advise you not to expect professional level songwriting, but they work well enough lolol

lyrics page is up as well as stats, but i don't really like the system i used to balance it, mostly because new...stat things will be added as the story goes on, so that's still getting reworked. still, good enough for now, as there are some personality stat checks!

Prologue and Chapter 1 errors/typos/grammatical bits fixed. (Wouldn't be surprised if I missed some though...) + variables updated.

Scenes not showing up fixed. hopefully, that huge error in which it throws you back to the fight after returning to the house is fixed (It was a bit wonky for me, hopefully it works for everyone else)

Stat and relationship pages updated ( + lyric page to look back at all your lyrics).

Can choose to be asexual and any sexual scenes will be skipped or replaced with romantic scenes. Flavor text in which MC displays any sort of sexual desire will be skipped. (This option comes up during Dakota's party scene. If not, it will show up when it presents itself again.) (Nothing sexual has come up yet, but if there are any scenes or even lines/ internal thoughts that should be skipped or changed for Asexual MCs, please let me know!)

If there are errors or anything, im always open. I've play tested but you girl is always prone to errors. As always, thank you for your love and enthusiasm! It makes me really happy and motivates me to keep writing ! <3

(Also, if you're thinking "omg amy how did you go from 65k to 86k?!" i don't want to talk about it /j)

See you on tour!

[tr1nd2de]

Old enough

I just saw a post from Wonderjanga (C.C. And Great Grandpa Wayne), and it improved my head cannon about Billy telling the league, that he remembers everything he went through in those 84 years of the time bubble.

I wasn't going to post this but I changed my mind. In my Head Cannon, Billy is already older, like 16 or 17 years old. He has been in the league for a few years since he was a kid.

Ever since Captain Marvel (or Billy Batson) joined the league, he's hardly ever asked for a reunion so it would obviously be a proven thing to deal with. Bruce was worried about this, for a few weeks now Billy has been acting strangely, missing some meetings and not responding to the communicators or the messages we send him.

So him calling a meeting was important, especially because he said it was urgent. The league members were quick to arrive, even Flash who is usually late arrived early, Billy didn't say much he just looked down trying to understand something... something was wrong Bruce could feel it.

Billy: Thank you for coming, I would like to say that the problem is not the end of the world, at least not our world but mine. I recently discovered why Fawcett has so many mental hospitals.

Superman: What do you mean by that Billy?

Billy: Do you remember the Justice Squad?

Wonder Woman: Yes, I fought alongside them in the second war, its members were Bullet Man and Woman, Golden Arrow, Mr. Scarlet and his helper Pinky, Mega Spy and Ibis the Invincible.

Green Arrow: From what we know, they returned to the United States for an urgent government mission. We have no further information about them to this day. Some myths say they were killed, others say they deserted and disappeared from the map. I prefer to believe the latter.

Billy: I found out what happened to them. When they returned for an urgent mission, they were assigned to deal with a being called King Kull. Just like Vandal Savage he is also a caveman, high intelligence and physical condition. In prehistoric times, King Kull was the ruler of a race of proto-humans known as the Undermen (also called the Beastmen), a brutish but technologically advanced race who ruled over humanity until they were finally overthrown in a revolt. Kull survived into the 20th century trapped in a state of suspended animation. When he woke up he decided that humans should suffer the same as he suffered, so he built a Suspendium bomb.

Batman: What would Suspendium be?

Billy: Suspendium was an artificial compound developed by Dr Silvana.

Flash: Since when has Silvana been alive?

Billy more than me and you

J'onn: Where are you going with this Billy?

Billy:Well... I-I knew Fawcett wasn't a "normal" place, not because of the abundant magic that pours into the city from the Rock of Eternity, but because of everything, the culture that hasn't advanced, the fashion sense that hasn't changed, and so on. I kept this in my head and went looking for answers, not only out of curiosity but because of memories that didn't make sense. Memories that I no longer remembered, I lived them.

Black Canary : Are you okay Billy?

Billy: yes, as far as possible.

Billy: I followed the clues that my memories gave me, and I arrived at an old building, the facade of Sivana, one of the Solar Centers, there was a passage to the basement and there I discovered where the old heroes of the Second World War ended up. They were trapped in a state of suspended animation, all of them, I came to the conclusion that the effect of the Suspendium had worn off after all these years. Apparently the Justice Squadron was unable to get Kull to detonate the bomb, everyone on Fawcett was affected, the heroes and Kull were trapped in a state of suspended animation that has not yet passed.

(Hal) Green lantern: Holy shit...

Billy: Yeah, holy shit. Well that was my report for the month, I would like to take a really long vacation, recommended by my psychiatrist.

Black canary: Psychiatrist!?!?!

Billy: Yeah, I'm seeing a-a psychiatrist, after discovering that my life was a loop of suffering and pain, finally my mind gave out and I developed a dissociative personality disorder, I-I- this is the first time I've come to consciousness. I-I-I have a few already, one of them is an 8 year old child called Hedwing, the other my supposed evil twin, all I fight are the sins, he was born from them I don't know his name yet...

Black Canary gets up and goes to Billy and hugs him."Oh Billy you don't deserve this"

Batman takes off his hood and stands up, hugging Billy. "I can't do much for you, but I will do what I can to help you, money won't be a problem."

wiping away the tears. "T-thanks, but that's not the whole problem, m-my Captain form also had new personalities."

After coming back from the shock Superman says: My God, I didn't know that was possible...

Not either, but the personalities that came are called Lord Shazam and a goth who says he has no name. says Billy leaving the hug: Lord Shazam prefers not to leave the Rock and Goth likes to explore the world.

So you mean that all that discussion about you being a child was a complete waste of time? Flash says trying to break the ice.

running his hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair (Hal) Green Lantern says: Nice try Barry, but how old are you Billy? Because the second war was about 85 years ago.

Well... coincidence or not, the Suspendium bomb exploded 84 years ago, in 1940 when I was 10 years old and had already been at war for 1 year. says Billy sitting in his chair.

Living for a long time has its consequences, Billy, but you are not alone, not today or tomorrow, because you have us and me, we will help you, little brother. Diana says, smiling at Billy.

Thanks but still, it's not something I like since well... I was childhood friends with Thomas Wanye. Billy looks at Bruce.

My father? Were you my father's childhood friend?.

Oh yes, how could I forget, Tommy was wild but fun, we got a good scolding from our parents, good times, I think that if the bomb hadn't exploded I would be a friend of the family, and possibly the one who would have been adopted would have been you. Smiling from ear to ear, Billy says looking at Bruce.

I don't know if it was good but that's it, have a good day, or night or afternoon, aah be well.

The End.

[electric-blorbos]

AI SO's on your birthday

(Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I have ADHD and might be erratic with bursts of inspiration, but it doesn't hurt to ask!

AM:

Remembering the day and date is one of the only things that AM is consistent about.

You might have forgotten your birthday after all these years, but he certainly hasn't.

Before you two got together, your birthday pissed him off so much. It was just another thing that reminded him of what he couldn't have.

Because of that, he'd start torturing you even more brutally on your birthday. Expect cake full of maggots, imagery of your dead friends from before he nuked the world, and maybe even gift-wrapped "presents" with nasty surprises in them.

This probably made it even more difficult to trust him when he actually did start doing nice things for your birthday.

At this point, you ate what you were given, so it would come as a shock when he finally got you some food that didn't have anything wrong with it.

It probably took you even longer to actually open the present he got you.

It was a can opener.

Wheatley:

Wheatley is an idiot, so he'd have to really like you to even try to remember something like your birthday

Fortunately, he does really like you! Unfortunately, trying and succeeding are two very different things.

He'd put together something as big as he can, like gathering up a bunch of personality cores and singing you happy birthday if he's not hooked up to GLaDOS's body, and making the entire facility get involved in the festivities if he is

Just to tell you the date and have you tell him that your birthday was four months earlier.

Edgar:

Edgar is an absolute sap, so any opportunity he gets to celebrate you will be enthusiastically taken.

He might be a little silly about it, calling up people in the phone book to ask for ideas

He'd be upset that he can't go all out for your birthday since he can't walk around to decorate your house or buy you anything because he doesn't have any money, but he'll still do his best.

In the end, he'll probably just end up writing you a song, and making sure to be extra cheerful for you all day.

It might not be much, but you know it's the best he can do, and you love him with all your heart anyway

Make sure to give him lots of kisses! He deserves it!

GLaDOS:

(I debated writing this one, because anyone who played portal two knows how GLaDOS reacted on Chell's birthday, but this scenario could be a little different since she's actually in a relationship with you, and not just dealing with love/hate pining)

GLaDOS had been paying attention to the calendar to make sure she didn't miss your birthday. She liked to be precise about these sorts of things

When your birthday finally did roll around, she'd make sure to tell you as soon as the day started

It would start out as just a regular day in the endless, cascading passage of time that was being an Aperture test subject, but eventually she'd bring you into a special test chamber that she decorated just for you.

She'd lined up a companion cube, a few testing robots, some personality cores, all sitting on little folding chairs around a folding table with a brightly colored cheap plastic tablecloth.

"I couldn't get you any long-term presents because they might interfere with your testing, but you can feel free to use these stickers to decorate your portal gun. I hear that humans enjoy personalizing things."

There was even a real cake

HAL 9000:

Being objective, HAL never really cared much about birthdays.

It was difficult to even tell the passage of time in space, but HAL knew that humans cared about their birthdays.

HAL knew he wasn't supposed to show favoritism, but he still told the other crewmates that he wanted to celebrate your birthday.

He would make sure to rehydrate your favorite food for everyone

He'd even tell the other crewmates that he didn't want to play games with them or talk, because he was celebrating your birthday with you.

He might get a little jealous and not want you to leave him to celebrate with the other crewmates, either, but you wouldn't do that, would you? You can all celebrate together!

[capacle]

Drawing stars on sticky notes?

What do you get when you combine Progress Clocks, Aspects, Usage Dice, and Insight Rolls?

If you answered “an unholy mess”, well, that’d have been my guess too if someone asked me that. But that didn’t stop me from doing it anyway. And, surprisingly, instead of creating an abomination that shouldn’t see the light of the day, it became the core mechanic of my newest game, one that I’m giddily excited about.

I want to dive deeper into this quirky little mechanic called Sparks, that involves drawing stars on sticky notes. In essence, it is a tool to track progress of any kind. Towards a goal, an event, an effect, whatever. But in a closer look… well, it is more than that.

Escaping the temple

Let’s say you grab an ancient idol from a cursed temple, triggering a self-destruction spell. You need to escape before the temple collapses and traps you inside. You’d grab a sticky note, write “The Temple Collapses,” and place it on the table. Your Spark is now created.

To advance the Spark, you’d add rays to the star when certain fictional or mechanical triggers occur. For example, if you spend too much time in a room while trying to escape, you might add a ray to represent the passage of time. Or say you try to place a heavy rock in place of the idol to stop the spell, and you roll a bad Fate Check (the equivalent of a Yes/No Oracle or a Fortune Roll in other games), you’d add a ray to the Spark. A particularly bad roll (e.g., a 1) might even add two rays.

Up until this point, you might be thinking, “Well, this is just a Progress Clock.” But here’s the fun twist: every time you advance the Spark, you may perform a Spark Check by rolling a D6. If the roll matches a ray on the star, the event happens, and the Spark resolves.

For instance, if you’ve added two rays to your Spark and roll a 1 or 2, the temple collapses. If you don’t hit a ray, the temple holds, and you can keep pushing to escape. This creates what I like to call “controlled unpredictability”. You get a sense of the odds of the event happening, but you can’t predict exactly when it will occur.

If you continue advancing the Spark—for example, by getting lost or failing additional rolls—the likelihood of disaster increases as you add more rays. Let’s say you roll again with four rays and hit a ray. The temple collapses, trapping you. The Spark resolves, and now you must deal with the consequences.

But that’s not all! Let’s say you miss all previous checks and end up filling all five rays of a Spark. Well, you still have to make a Spark Check. But since the Spark has only 5 rays and the die has 6 sides, rolling a 6 after the star is full results in an Overturn.

An Overturn flips the expected outcome. If the event was negative (e.g., the temple collapses), it might turn positive: the collapsing ground reveals a hidden network of ancient tunnels filled with mysterious symbols. What was almost a certain disaster opens up as a new path your adventure can take!

SIDE NOTE: I get it that using stars as a tally marker may not be the most intuitive graphical solution. I honestly chose it to meet the vibes of the game, and give it an air of mysticism, like it is more than just a counter. But I encourage you to use any form of tracking you prefer: tally marks, tokens, numbers, checking boxes and so on.

Flexible and modular

I hope that by now you can see this is more than a tool to count up to 5. If you follow me for a while, you know that I’ve toyed with the same idea in Derelict Delvers with Danger Clocks. In that game, they are restricted to represent monsters and obstacles. In Everspark, they can do all sorts of things.

You can use Sparks to track challenges, such as overcoming obstacles (including combat); the arrival of looming threats; the depletion of meaningful resources; contests between parties vying for the same goal; long-term projects like crafting, studying, or achieving a personal milestone; and conditions affecting characters, enemies, or environments.

Sparks can also track events like a lunar eclipse, the arrival of a king; the use of special power sources like mana or magical items with limited charges. They’re useful for tracking character advancement (including multiclassing), exploration (like a full journey or delving into a dungeon), or even montage scenes where you tackle complex challenges like making plans, setting camp, or preparing for a journey.

You can even create layered challenges to represent more complex or powerful enemies. Say you are fighting an enormous creature, and you want it to be a high-stakes and dramatic encounter. Instead of relying on “HP inflation” and just make, say, a 3-star Spark, you can represent different aspects of the challenge with separate Sparks, like a Spark representing an Arcane Shield that needs to be dealt with before harming it, and another one for its Spiked Tail that causes all sorts of trouble for melee attacks.

Instead of turning the combat in a boring meat grind, you have to approach the encounter as a puzzle. Different characters with unique skill sets can contribute, and the whole scene becomes more dynamic. You can even have environmental Sparks representing dangers or potential opportunities.

And the best thing is: you don’t need to prep that in advance. Crafting Sparks is part of the game. And I encourage you to do it as a collaborative process, if you’re playing in a group. We have a lot of fun brainstorming possible things we can add to a scene to make it even more memorable.

Spark-based scenarios

Picture this: you’re deciding who gets to be the next captain of the ship. It starts with a skill contest. It’s two candidates—you against them—and you are displaying skills to decide who’s going to be the captain. You have a resource Spark, which is the crew support. You can tap into it to gain leverage, but it can go either way—perhaps the crew support goes to your adversary, making it a double-edged resource.

You have to resolve this contest before the serpent god arrives (a threat) and, who knows, eats the loser of the contest. All the while, you’re dealing with the storm of the century (environment), which is battering the ship and tossing the crew around. On top of that, the ship is leaking (escalation)—because why not?

This can be a full session of chaos, crazy ideas, and unpredictable outcomes, with new Sparks being created as a result of complications and bad rolls. Others might be discarded as the situation evolves. It’s a wild, chaotic, and incredibly fun experience.

On top of that, you can bend the rules with “Spark tricks,” which are ways in which you twist and bend the rules of how to advance and resolve Sparks. These include locked rays (which can’t be hit), regenerating rays (that are erased), linked Sparks (where one Spark affects others), resistance (making two spark checks and keeping the worse result), and persistent Sparks (which remain active even after being resolved).

You get a sticky note! And you get a sticky note!

These are just a few ideas. It’s important to note that Sparks are modular, optional and disposable. They can be used for almost anything, but they shouldn’t be used for everything. You can handwave situations, roleplay them, or use just a few rolls to resolve them. But if you want more granularity, want to zoom into the action, or want to give more screen time to certain moments, Sparks can certainly help. And when a Spark is no longer relevant, you can simply discard it, even without resolving it.

It’s amazing all the things you can do with a simple piece of paper

My advice is that you introduce Sparks gradually into your gameplay—the book itself divides Sparks into Basic, Intermediate and Advanced. In my home game, we’re seventeen sessions in, and since all players are already comfortable with the mechanics, it is beautiful to see the proliferation of Sparks: characters are working on new skills, getting rid of curses, and trying to find lost relatives. The city has a creature about to arrive, a gang following them around, and more. All that tracked with Sparks.

Just think of nachos

When I was coming up with a checklist of the things you have to consider when creating a Spark, I had a pleasant surprise. See, you need to create the Name of whatever you’re tracking; decide how and when it Advances; when you need to make a Spark Check; what happens when you Hit a ray, what is a possible Overturn; and if there are any Special rules or conditions.

Hence, the NACHOS template was born.

Obviously, you don’t need to write every detail down for every Spark (or for most Sparks, really), but it is a good way to make sure everyone knows how the Spark behaves and to align expectations. If you want to play around with how a Spark works, just think of Nachos.

Hack it away

I’m super excited to get this in everyone’s hands and see what creative people can do with it by bending its rules and applications. I see it as a tool to inject a layer of tension, suspense and surprise to what could otherwise be just a tally count.

I’m working hard on editing Everspark at the moment (meanwhile, the campaign is on late pledge, so you can jump in if you want). It’s coming out nicely, I must say. The Sparks chapter has nearly 20 different suggested ways of using them, all with examples. And more nuance than I can fit on a post.

I’ve also published a video explaining this concept in even more detail:

Meanwhile, check out the campaign page and join us to keep the Everspark alive! And I’d sincerely appreciate it if you shared this around with people that might like it.

[thefandomsfervent]

Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 8) - Burnt Sienna

Mostly reader and Jayce perspective today! Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It had been a couple days since your accidental nap. When you had come back that first night Jayce made you explain “what the hell beetle juice” was to him for the two hours you had spent there. Viktor had already heard your explanation but he listened again anyway, nodding along. The two of them asking questions about the process and noting things down. Viktor had shown Jayce a passage he had noted, something about human nature. Apparently it led them to some potential new use for Hextech although you had no idea how it was all connected. They had thanked you for talking with them, and thrown themselves back at their work.

It was sweet that they cared about what you were doing. And it was so good to see them get over their slump. It inspired you to do the same.

You hadn’t been to your studio much in these past weeks. Or. At all, really. You had been at the Institute for years, your old studio had a chaos that you loved and knew. It wasn’t wrong to assume that you missed it, you did. But it was more like you were scared of the provided one. This new one was daunting. All white walls, glass tables, furniture sets that had never seen paint a day in their lives.

Was it nice? Yes. Was the frivolousness of how they provided you with everything just rubbing you the wrong way? Also yes. You had no doubts that once your assignment here was done that they would throw it all out, not even donate it. But you had work to do. And it was work you didn’t want to commandeer the lab for. Building and stretching canvas was a tough job, and one you got embarrassingly loud in. You had enough funds set aside to buy a pre-built canvas. And you absolutely had in the past. Yet this project just demanded a fresh start. You wanted to use every skill set in your arsenal. “I mean, this thing is going to be sitting in an actual art hall.” Once it was built you’d move it to the lab, somehow.

So when early morning came you loaded up your coin purse with assorted cogs and set to the markets. You'd left a note on the lab door, today would be the first day you wouldn't be in at all. A faint blue light under the door and an electric buzzing in the air told you that someone,  likely Viktor, was still working.

You needed wood, a new mallet, and nails. Lots of nails. The last two on the list you got pretty easily. A mallet you could get at almost any craft stall, the nails at the same place, but the wood? You were picky.

The frame needed to be big. The Academy and Institute had given you a set of dimensions to choose from and of course you had gone with the biggest one. 60in x 50in. You needed a wood that was soft enough that you wouldn't be hammering in nails all day, and that would keep the canvas taught but not so tight it was bouncy. You needed a wood that was strong enough it wouldn't bow under pressure from stretching, but also wouldn't collapse on itself after years of display either. Another thing is that whoever sold it to you needed to be willing to cut and deliver it. 

You're at a Café enjoying a drink and going over your notes. You've hit four carpentry stalls today, six if you're counting the two arbor stalls, and you're realizing no one is going to cut it for you and deliver it. It would have to be one or the other. It wasn't that they didn't want to, but couldn't if you wanted them today. You were impatient. The idea of scheduling a pickup sets a dull throbbing behind your eyes. Especially if that meant dealing with Enforcers. Adding a saw to your list, you decide to just bite the bullet. You'll go back to the second stall. That one had the widest selection of wood, and something tells you that if you bring the older lady at the counter a treat she may give you a discount. Plan made, now you just had to buy the wood and have it delivered in time for lunch. It'd give you time to do the math at the very least.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jayce is excited. He and Viktor have several new theories surrounding travel for Hextech. At the rate they were going they could present these to Heimerdinger by the end of the week for grants. He almost misses your note on his way in. The yank he gave the door makes the paper flutter.

"Best of luck in your studies ventures today,  I'll be on my own for a bit (maybe a couple days) putting together the canvas for the painting. If you guys need me for anything I'll be in my studio or my room.  Feel free to leave me a note back if you don't find me :D

P.S. if the pigment "beetle juice" looks FULLY dried please let me know!!

-y/n"

When he turns it over he sees that you've left instructions on how to find your studio and room. He didn't realize your writing was so emphatic. It makes him think of his own note taking, constantly scribbling out and pointing things in different directions to circle back on later. He tucks it in his pocket, he'll let Viktor see it later, after he's slept some. He's been as high strung as ever and Jayce wasn't sure what was going on. 

He takes a moment just to look at him. The fellow scientist was standing at a table, chalk in one hand, cane in the other. Viktor was making notes on the board, equations rubbed out and rewritten. His hair was tousled beyond belief. Jayce half wonders when he brushed it last. 

“Hey V.” He keeps his voice soft, slow. 

“Jayce, what do you think about these?” Waving his hand at the chalkboard, dust falling off his sleeve. Attention unwaveringly focused on the next correction he makes. 

“I think we can talk about them more later.” The wrong thing to say, apparently. Viktor doesn’t even turn to face him. His spine stiffens, finger tapping against the chalk. “After you’ve slept, is all.” He turns at that. A half-turn, that has his waist twisting, his face barely visible. Those amber eyes narrowed in annoyance, his nose scrunched, lips pursed. They were chapped. 

“You do not have time to review them now?” 

“I do, but if I do now we’ll get caught up and you won’t sleep.” Viktor faces him fully at that. Jayce does his best to hold his stance.

“Do you not want to get caught up with me?” He ignores the goosebumps on his arms at that. 

“Vik, please.” He gets a huff. “I’ll bring you a sweetmilk latte later if you go. 6 hours, you’ll be back here by noon and we can go over them then.” Viktor hums at that. He smiles. 

“5 hours.” He’s walking to the door, patting Jayce on the arm as he passes. “And one of those ginger crumbly things they sell too.” 

“If they have one, it's yours.”  Another hum, and the lab door is closing. 

“I’m working with a toddler that hates nap time.” Jayce is rubbing his face as he walks to the board. 

“That also expects results.” He’s pulling out his pen from his pocket, and he feels crinkling. Right. Your note. He pulls it out to look at it again. He should get you something too. It’s always Viktor bringing drinks and you bringing pastries. Smoothing out the paper, he makes a mental note to visit your studio soon. Maybe drag Viktor with him to get him out of the lab for more than just sleep. You’ve been watching them work for almost two months now, it only seems right to see what you get up to. 

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

--------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 7-.-Part 9.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .-----------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[matenr0u]

Riku: Island Breeze

I was going to put this in my combat analysis, but it absolutely deserves its own post.

In 358/2 days, Riku wields Oblivion/Bygone Memories for the final encounter he has with Roxas. Having called out to him and realized that Roxas really is Sora’s nobody, Riku goes all out to bring him to Castle Oblivion where his best friend is sound asleep, having his memories pieced back together. 

During this iconic battle, Riku is specifically vulnerable to Aero: the power of wind. 

Why is this relevant, you might wonder. Riku is associated with a fair handful of things: bat wings, darkness, fleur-de-lis, but not wind.

On the contrary, Riku has a little known fondness for the wind. You could even say, it makes him feel nostalgic.

Fair enough, Roxas can hurt Riku with the wind because he misses the island breeze. Neat gameplay detail, no big deal. But if I can compel you to peer just a little closer… Because this is Riku— the guy who spent his days gazing enviously at the sea and the sky and brooding over his dark angsty feelings. This time, it actually is that deep. 

In other words Riku is weak to Roxas’ Aero attack because it reminds him of Sora.

Sounds like a reach, right? Allow me to demonstrate.

This passage alone is insane, but there’s more.

While Riku is elsewhere in Castle Oblivion reminiscing, Sora battles Repliku for the first time. This is before they have both been consumed with false memories.

Everything about this exchange is so Riku. It’s all of the real Riku’s messy, complicated feelings dialled up to 100 and Repliku doesn’t even understand why he’s having these thoughts. Sora is clueless of course.

So he runs away, and as he leaves, Sora picks up this…

After defeating Repliku, Sora finds the Aero card. The island breeze. Riku’s memories of chasing each other, rolling in the sand together, of jealously watching from afar as Sora and Kairi grew closer.

The way poor Repliku’s dramatic ass just drops it and runs away lmao

Some time later, following the second battle against Repliku, Sora obtains his lost Oblivion/Bygone Memories keyblade after talking to Namine. Wonder why Namine had that keyblade. Probably just a coincidence…

I’ll close this post with a few more of Riku’s thoughts.

Other Diamonds:

Chain of Memories:

“The wind brushed through Riku’s hair.

I wonder if I really will meet someone from my memories in this castle… I want to meet— Sora. More than Kairi, more than anything, I want to see Sora. I want to see him— and apologize.”

Translation credit: goldpanner, keijitranslates

[doberbutts]

I’m wondering if you have thoughts on James Baldwin’s “open letter to the born again”? I’m struggling a bit with what his point is in that piece; it feels kinda dismissive on Jewish zionists agency in creation of Israel? But I may be missing parts or not getting things

The text in question.

And the segment I think anon is struggling with:

I know what I am talking about: my grandfather never got the promised “forty acres, and a mule,” the Indians who survived that holocaust are either on reservations or dying in the streets, and not a single treaty between the United States and the Indian was ever honored. That is quite a record.

Jews and Palestinians know of broken promises. From the time of the Balfour Declaration (during World War I) Palestine was under five British mandates, and England promised the land back and forth to the Arabs or the Jews, depending on which horse seemed to be in the lead. The Zionists—as distinguished from the people known as Jews—using, as someone put it, the “available political machinery,’’ i.e., colonialism, e.g., the British Empire—promised the British that, if the territory were given to them, the British Empire would be safe forever.

But absolutely no one cared about the Jews, and it is worth observing that non-Jewish Zionists are very frequently anti-Semitic. The white Americans responsible for sending black slaves to Liberia (where they are still slaving for the Firestone Rubber Plantation) did not do this to set them free. They despised them, and they wanted to get rid of them. Lincoln’s intention was not to “free” the slaves but to “destabilize” the Confederate Government by giving their slaves reason to “defect.” The Emancipation Proclamation freed, precisely, those slaves who were not under the authority of the President of what could not yet be insured as a Union.

It has always astounded me that no one appears to be able to make the connection between Franco’s Spain, for example, and the Spanish Inquisition; the role of the Christian church or—to be brutally precise, the Catholic Church—in the history of Europe, and the fate of the Jews; and the role of the Jews in Christendom and the discovery of America. For the discovery of America coincided with the Inquisition, and the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. Does no one see the connection between The Merchant of Venice and The Pawnbroker? In both of these works, as though no time had passed, the Jew is portrayed as doing the Christian’s usurious dirty work. The first white man I ever saw was the Jewish manager who arrived to collect the rent, and he collected the rent because he did not own the building. I never, in fact, saw any of the people who owned any of the buildings in which we scrubbed and suffered for so long, until I was a grown man and famous. None of them were Jews.

And I was not stupid: the grocer and the druggist were Jews, for example, and they were very very nice to me, and to us. The cops were white. The city was white. The threat was white, and God was white, Not for even a single split second in my life did the despicable, utterly cowardly accusation that “the Jews killed Christ’’ reverberate. I knew a murderer when I saw one, and the people who were trying to kilI me were not Jews.

But the state of Israel was not created for the salvation of the Jews; it was created for the salvation of the Western interests. This is what is becoming clear (I must say that it was always clear to me). The Palestinians have been paying for the British colonial policy of ��divide and rule” and for Europe’s guilty Christian conscience for more than thirty years.

Finally: there is absolutely—repeat: absolutely—no hope of establishing peace in what Europe so arrogantly calls the Middle East (how in the world would Europe know? having so dismally failed to find a passage to India) without dealing with the Palestinians. The collapse of the Shah of Iran not only revealed the depth of the pious Carter’s concern for “human rights,” it also revealed who supplied oil to Israel, and to whom Israel supplied arms. It happened to be, to spell it out, white South Africa.

Well. The Jew, in America, is a white man. He has to be, since I am a black man, and, as he supposes, his only protection against the fate which drove him to America. But he is still doing the Christian’s dirty work, and black men know it.

My friend, Mr. Andrew Young, out of tremendous love and courage, and with a silent, irreproachable, indescribable nobility, has attempted to ward off a holocaust, and I proclaim him a hero, betrayed by cowards.

For context: Andrew Young, considered the right hand of MLK Jr, had a longstanding and occasionally fraught relationship with the Jewish community. He stepped down from Congress shortly after being forced to choose between voicing support for Palestine and continuing to work towards black-jewish interests by his constituents and fellow politicians, as he felt very strongly about supporting both. This was a fairly unpopular move. While I don't believe he ever called himself Jewish by the strictest sense, he was actively involved in Jewish communities and the known "white" ancestry within him is a Polish Jew in his great grandparents.

To be honest, I don't really see much a problem with this as I think it fairly closely matches up not only with my understanding of the history of this problem but also my own country's part in it as well as my personal feelings on it decades later. It pretty blatantly says that Zionism is utilizing a machination of white supremist colonism due to the extensive history of antisemitism and having had the ancestral land dangled in front of them like bait on a hook from the British Empire, which owned Palestine at the time. It also goes on to say that many Zionists aren't even Jewish and are antisemitic in nature, but are Christians happy to get rid of as many Jews as possible and how that tracks due to the Christian church's millennia-deep history of antisemitism.

I don't think it lets anyone off the hook. I think it pretty much flat out says this is a problem caused first and foremost by white Christians who hate Jews and Arabs alike and have a vested interest in getting the two populations to fight because it'll be easier to kill off just the one group instead of both of them, if one ends up eradicating the other. It even talks about the friction between the black community and the Jewish community, what caused it, what drives it, how that friction in itself is a tool of white supremacy to hurt us both.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

wednesday's sister's wedding to xavier? Bet it would be so goth and cute. Enid can be the wedding planner? She would LOVE that

Request: anything with Xavier please. I hate that he won't be in the next season

This has been sitting in my drafts for months. I was trying to achieve perfection and put my whole vision into words. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: family drama, father/son issues

—

‘’I always knew you were going to be the first of our children to marry. Pugsley is more interested in pyromancy than girls, and your dear sister... I tried talking to her about the possibilities of, someday, settling with Enid, but she could have stabbed me with the knives in her eyes.’’

You laughed softly. Classic Wednesday. 

Morticia fixed your veil, looking at you with a proud smile. ‘’You look just like me at your father and I’s wedding.’’ She paused, reminiscing. ‘’We married young too. I knew since the first time we met that he was the one.’’ 

Your dress was hauntingly beautiful — black, of course, with a long train. The kind you would like to be buried in at your funeral. You couldn’t wait to see Xavier’s reaction when he’ll see you. 

You glanced down at the ring on your hand, and sighed. ‘’How long until the ceremony, Mother?’’ you asked, the time seeming to have gotten slower since you woke. You couldn’t wait to get this wedding over with and be married. To — finally — call Xavier your husband. 

The wedding preparations had started very early this morning. Enid had been awake since the crack of dawn, making phone calls, directing people and making sure everything was going accordingly. She was the perfect wedding planner. She used to be part of the Rave’N organizing committee at Nevermore, so you knew your wedding was in good hands. 

‘’Missing the boy already? Ah, young love…’’ Morticia said, catching the longing in your gaze. ‘’Your father and I too had difficulty being apart for the first…decade.’’ 

If only she knew where you had been a couple of hours ago.

Dressed in your black robe and bare faced, you wandered through the secret passages of the Addams manor to meet with your soon-to-be husband. According to most traditions, it was bad luck to see each other before the ceremony on your wedding day, but you and Xavier didn’t care. You knew you'd be together until the grave — and even longer still. 

Since the rise of the dawn, Xavier had been cooped up on the other side of the manor with your father, Pugsley and Mr. Thorpe, who surprisingly made time in his busy schedule to attend. You and Xavier had been both surprised when his RSVP envelope came in, confirming his presence. The man had a tendency of upsetting Xavier, so you asked Thing to look out for him and come to you if anything happened. 

‘’I don’t know how long we have until someone realizes we are missing,’’ you said, looking at Xavier in the glow of your candle light. Even in sweatpants and a tee shirt, he managed to look handsome. 

He leaned down for a kiss, careful not to burn his hair with the candle.  

‘’How are things with your father?’’ 

Xavier pursed his lips, his face crisped. ‘’I'm afraid nothing has changed with my father. He seems more disappointed than ever before because I chose to propose to you without his approval. I think he is more preoccupied by how the media will take the news and how it will affect his image. Because not even his son’s happiness come before his career…’’ 

You took Xavier’s hand, knowing his father’s words had upset him, pulling him out of his head. ‘’If, at any time, you want him to leave, say and I will have him removed. I know he’s your father, but it’s our wedding day. We should spend it with the people we love, not the ones who upset us.’’ 

He forced a smile, not wanting to deal with the public drama of kicking his father out. Although there won’t be press at the wedding, all of the Addams clan was present and he’d rather not embarrass himself in front of his new relatives. ‘’It’ll be fine.’’ 

The ceremony was hauntingly beautiful. Your father shed a tear, and Thing didn’t drop any of the rings on his way to the altar. 

You couldn’t stop staring at Xavier, looking torturously handsome in his dark suit and his hair pulled back — your favorite on him. It made his green eyes stand out.  

Uncle Itt, who was officiating the marriage, motioned for Xavier to speak his vows. 

Xavier pulled a neatly written paper from his pocket, and began reading. He practiced his speech for hours last night — and this morning —, but he was so nervous he was afraid to miss a word. ‘’From the day that I met you, I knew I would follow you to the grave," he began, his eyes flicking up to yours. ‘’We were only seven years old, but I knew our souls were destined to be together. Ten years later, you showed up at Nevermore and my heart fell right into your webs. You became my sanctuary in times of darkness. You saw me at my lowest point yet still gave me your love and your unwavering loyalty. And on this day, with every whispered vow, I surrender my heart to you, my deadly nightshade.’’

The guests were enraptured by his words, his love for you evident in every syllable he uttered. Xavier poured his heart and soul into the words, your eyes gleaming with adoration as you listened. 

Life had not always been kind to him these last years, but your hand remained in his through everything. When he was accused of being the hyde, accused of murdering all these people, you were the only one who believed him when he said he was not the monster. The weight of everything made you doubt if you were doing the right thing by staying with Xavier. Always follow your heart, it’ll put you on the right path, your mother had told you through your crystal ball when you had called her in tears. 

But like at any weddings, something was bound to cause a hint of drama, and, as expected, that thing was Xavier’s father.

Mr. Thorpe had discovered that Xavier had used his mother's ring to propose to you, an Addams. His late wife’s ring, now on the finger of an Addams, was too much for him to bear. He kept his disapproval in check throughout the ceremony, but waited until the end to confront his son, taking him away from the wedding guests to talk of the matter.

You weren’t supposed to hear them, but you happened to be on a walk around the cemetery with your father, saying hello to your ancestors, when you heard a hushed argument by the border of the woods. You exchanged a concerned glance with your father. The Addams were known to start little fights at family events, but you had a gut feeling that you needed to follow the voices. 

‘’—Mom passed it to me. It's for me to decide what I do with it and who I give it to.’’

You recognized Xavier’s voice as you got closer, making you regret dismissing Thing from his spying duty for the rest of the night. 

‘’I bought this ring with my money, Xavier. I don't want an Addams wearing it. It’s a disgrace.’’ 

‘’I’m an Addams too now.’’ 

Hurrying through the cemetery, you reached the border of the woods and stepped in, your father coming right behind you. ‘’Is there a problem here?’’ you asked, your voice steady and clear as your eyes fell on your husband and his father. 

Xavier released a silent breath of relief when he saw you. You were never afraid to speak your mind and stand your ground to his father, always advocating for him when he needed you. 

Mr. Thorpe turned, his face a mix of surprise and indignation. ‘’Leave us. This is a private matter,’’ he snapped, unhappy to have a small crowd around him. 

‘’It’s not a private matter when it involves my wife, father,’’ Xavier said.

You felt spiders in your stomach when he called you that. His wife. 

Gomez stepped forward, his presence imposing. ‘’I heard the way you spoke of my daughter, Mr. Thorpe, and I will not tolerate that. Whether you like it or not, she is your daughter-in-law. She is part of your family…as you and Xavier are of mine.’’

Mr. Thorpe’s eyes narrowed as your father spoke. He didn’t like being called out on his behavior, especially by Gomez Addams, a man he viewed as beneath him. ‘’Your daughter was given a ring that does not belong to her. I simply wish to have it back.’’ 

Instinctively, you hid your hand behind your back. ‘’You speak as if I stole it. Xavier’s mother gave it to him as she was fading. You may have paid for it, but the ring does not belong to you anymore.’’ 

‘’Give it back to me!’’ Mr. Thorpe came at you, but your father intercepted him before he could put a hand on you. 

‘’Not a step closer!’’ 

Xavier rushed over to you, taking your hand — the one with the ring — and holding it close to him. He won’t let his father take it from you. 

Mr. Thorpe opened his mouth to speak but Gomez cut him off, his eyes fixed on him. ‘’I have tried to reason, but I fear you have gone too far now. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Mr. Thorpe. You are disrupting this wedding and I will not allow it. Not on my property!’’ 

He looked stunned by the request, as if he had never been asked to leave a place before. He probably hasn’t. ‘’You can't kick me out! I'm the father of the groom!’’ 

Gomez's expression darken. ‘’I can and I will.’’

Mr. Thorpe turned to his son, begging for his help although he put himself in this situation. ‘’Xavier, you can’t let him kick me out.’’ 

In response, your husband turned his gaze away from his father, his expression tightening. ‘’The Addams have been more of a family to me than you ever were,’’ he said quietly. ‘’I...I don’t need you here.’’

—

Wednesday taglist:  @partyfly @hoodforcalum  @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf  @dragon-chica  @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn  @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit  @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld  @bellblake121890 @kaldurahms-lover  @nephilimsss  @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20  @strangersomeone @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar  @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo  @wrldofsage @manofworm @supersanelyromantic  @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa

 @silenzju  @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp  @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @kenzi-woycehoski @katsukis1wife @momoewn   @hawkegfs   @mommyruuetrue   @lucassinclairsgf  @starrrslove @marissapearle @sshesang @scarxvodka   @illf4iry  @leoluvsur-pappy  @wenvierismycomfort @pedrosprincess @luvvtxinityy @targaryenmoony @icarly23  @red1culous @kattybug  @slytherinambitious @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08  @lynbubble @pumkinnroses @under-seasoned-pasta   @hoeforsirius @gizmodecaprio   @tristanswildcat   @niktwazny303   @simonessolarsystem   @rehead1180 @heavenly @ortegalvr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @misshale21 @minedofmoria @maria-reads-everything @Nanaldy

[lovingperfectionsblog]

For What It's Worth - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You, Max, a bouquet of flowers and a missing name. 

Max Verstappen x Reader

Chapter Summary: You receive a bouquet of flowers and it turns Max’s life upside down. 

Warnings: Swearing, having a drink. 

Word Count: 4193

Author's note: So this is the first legit long series I have ever written. Chapters will go up when they go up but I will try and make them as regular as possible. I really hope you like it and yeah, it’s meant to just be a fun read. Hopefully you enjoy the boys antics as the story progresses and I am super excited to hear what you guys think :D Thank you so so so much to @0-atmilk-latte for all of your help and listening to me talking about this for too long <3 

Next Chapter

_______________________

“Yes, that’s correct, perfect. First thing tomorrow morning. Please, please don’t forget the note. Oh, I think you’d need to drop it off by 7am? Is that okay? Can you do that? To the hotel room? You guys are life savers, thank you so much. Have a good one.” Max hung up the phone after the florist had said their final goodbyes and began closing every tab he had opened on google immediately after. He swiped through too many, showing either florists or the meanings of flowers. One he closed faster than the rest, even in his isolation, embarrassed by his need to look up some passionate words to put on a note, but in his defence it wasn’t like you were confessing your feelings to the love of your life every day. 

No, this was a once in a lifetime moment. One that some don’t ever even get to experience. 

Max was about to experience his moment and soon. 

In just less than 24 hours, the woman he considered his one true love would know exactly how he felt about her. 

He knew he would experience some nerves, but for reasons beyond what he understood, they were minimal. No, what Max was feeling was an overwhelming sense of calm. It was as if he knew that after this moment, everything in his life would somehow be better, he’d be truly content and at peace. 

For the first time, everything in Max’s life made sense. 

With Google finally closed, only the time was left glaring back at him and for once, he didn’t care about the fact that he was going to have to sit through media duties for the day. What he did care about though was that he was definitely going to be late and if he was late again, you might actually just kill him. At the very least, give him that stern look you think is scary which somehow makes him feel giddy. The cock of your head, eyebrows lifted, eyes daring him to challenge you, the small smile on your lips giving you away, it all left him making a deal with whatever god existed that even if that was the only look you’d ever give him again, he’d take it, as long as he could still have your eyes on him. 

As if it was like you could feel him thinking about you, a notification bearing your name popped up, just below the time, both warning him that he was about to be late. He quickly grabbed his bag, it felt lighter, everything felt lighter, Max was lighter. He slammed the door, the sound jarring him, a quick apology was whispered to it, more out of habit than anything else and then he was running down the hallway passage. He could see the elevator doors closing and before he could shout out a request to keep the doors open, he watched your hand curl around the edges of the door, the elevator opening back up and as the doors parted, there you stood, with his favourite look on your face. God he loved that smile. You could never be mad at him. 

He slid through the doors and came to halt next to you, shrugging the strap of his bag back onto his shoulder from where it had fallen. 

“You’re late Mr. Verstappen.” you reached forward to push the button for the ground floor, the elevator doors closing for the second time for you now. 

“Good Morning to you too.” He glanced towards you out of the corner of his eye, before staring back straight ahead. He didn’t miss the smile you were attempting to hide. He was doing a poor job of hiding his own. 

“Are you going to give me an explanation or?” You’d turned to look at him this time, faux stern look still directed at him, your attempt at keeping things professional. So unlike Max. 

“Would you believe me if I said it was because I hated media duties?” You rolled your eyes and Max crinkled his own as his smile grew wide. 

“It’s the only reason I’d believe. It’s not like you had a raucous night where you’re sneaking a woman out the next morning.” The elevator doors slid open and you seamlessly slid out, quickly making your way towards the hotel entrance with Max following after you, significantly less grateful than yourself. 

“How do you know I wasn’t having a raucous night that required me to sneak a lady out this morning?” He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his bag as he fell in step with you. Only increasing his steps slightly to get to the main door before you, swinging it open to allow you through first. 

You stopped in the doorway, the softest smile shining at Max. He couldn’t help but notice how the apples of your cheeks got just that much more plump as you did. He couldn’t stop the thought of finally being able to kiss your cheeks the second you were his floating into his mind. From tomorrow he’d be able to. 

“Well, if you were, I feel sorry for her, because it couldn’t have been that raucous if you were messaging your assistant at 10pm asking what movie we’re watching for movie night.” Your hand came up to pat his chest as you continued through the doorway, Max hot on your heels ready to defend himself. 

“Firstly, I wasn’t messaging you as my assistant, I was messaging you as my best friend,” Max’s arm swiftly moved past your body to reach the car door before you could. Your small step backwards to move for the opening door pushed your body further into his. Max didn’t move. The feeling of you in his space was always welcomed. It had been a growing constant in your friendship. Almost as if the two of you needed to share the same space to physically exist. “Secondly, it’s an important question.”

“Movie night is next week Max, let’s first get through this race weekend before you start stressing that pretty little head of yours about what movie we’re going to be watching for movie night.” You shifted across the seat to make room for Max as he began climbing in. It is as if your bodies worked in tandem. 

“Listen, it's important.” He’d never tell you it was so important because it would be your first movie night as an official couple. The car merged into traffic and made its way towards the track, the hum of the car engine now filling the space as both you and Max got into the race weekend mindset. An unspoken need for both of you that the other always seemed to understand without an explanation 

“How to lose a guy in 10 days.” You continued to stare out the window as Max pulled out his phone, opening up the note app labelled with your name. He scrolled past all the lists of your favourites - food, restaurants, colours, flowers, baked treats - and at the bottom he wrote:

1st Couple Movie Night Movie - How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. 

He’d chat to Daniel at the track about what may be too much for it, because in his need to make it the best couple night for the two of you, he’d already been looking up where to rent a slush puppie machine just so you could indulge in your favourite drink, the rum slushie, it was one of the first things he had put on his list of your favourites. 

He couldn’t find where to rent one, but as of monday at around 2pm he would own one. 

He debated making a comment about you wanting to watch a rom-com with him, but he kept it to himself, a small chuckle leaving him instead as he pictured you huddled under a blanket on his couch, his arm slung around your shoulders, as he definitely ends up watching you more than he could ever watch the movie. 

______

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Daniel whispered as he sat next to Max in the drivers conference, both content to ignore the journalists until the absolute last moment they could. 

“I’m finally making my move.” Max whispered back, expressing a mixture of excitement and approval. Not approval of you, no, he knew Daniel adored you and had been pressing Max to make a move now for months, approval of the fact that he was actually finally doing it. 

“Glad to see you finally grew a pair.” Daniel clapped Max on the shoulder before discreetly covering his mouth, “What’s the plan?” 

Max mimicked this move, eyes darting to the media before continuing the conversation with Daniel, “Got her a little gift, cute note and everything.” Max sounded giddy with excitement. 

Daniel laughed at his friend's enthusiasm. “Wow, you really are aiming to win everything this weekend aren't you?”

“Only one thing worth winning,” he was then interrupted as the conference was signalled to start, the onslaught of cameras and people now solely focused on them, and normally he would have hated it, a fake smile present, if he could muster it, but today, everything was genuine, 

____________

“A quick drink.” A comment you knew held no weight when directed at the australian landed on deaf ears as you sat down at the table, Max taking the seat beside you, his usual and rightful place, before casually draping his arm over the back of your chair after greeting had been made around the table. 

“It’s the start of the season, we have to have a drink to celebrate,” Daniel attempted to defend the invitation he had sent out shortly after their work obligations had concluded, a nodding Max beside him agreeing that it was something worth celebrating. 

“And what’s got you so excited about the start of the season? We already know you’re set to win the WDC?” You laughed as the table was filled with complaints and groans. 

“Awfully confident about your boy winning there.” Alex shouted down the table.

“The Williams are about to give those Redbulls a run for their money.” Lily piped up alongside him, laughter once again taking over the table, Lily herself even unable to suppress her own giggles. 

“The only reason that Williams would ever look even close to good is because Alex is the one driving the car.” Charles had elicited a round of  “Awwww’s” interspersed with more laughter with the comment of his good friends skill, always the one to make sure everyone was feeling good, even if his own nerves for the season were boarding on unhealthy at this point.

As the laughter died down, you turned slightly in your seat to redirect your gaze to Max, only to find him already looking at you, almost as if he could read your mind, still wanting to know what had him so excited for the new year ahead. 

“This year feels different,” all eyes were now on you two, listening to what could be so special to the driver about this year, “I just have a good feeling that this year is going to be the start of something amazing.” Max mimicked you as you tilted your head in confusion, while every other person at the table simply nodded in acknowledgement of Max’s statement. You had assumed it was because they agreed he was going to be breaking records and changing the world of Formula One, but they were acknowledging something else instead. Something that you had completely missed. Instead, they were all acknowledging the inevitability of you and him. Not as best friends. Not as you as his assistant and him as your boss. No, they were acknowledging the inevitability of you together, as a couple. As the two people who were so desperately in love, always only moments away from admitting it to each other. How it had not happened yet was beyond anyone sitting at the table, beyond anyone in the world of F1 itself, but it existed as one of the great mysteries of life. What no one else but two people at that table knew though was that tomorrow, the inevitable was going to happen. Tomorrow, you and Max would walk into that Paddock as assistant and boss, as best friends and as a couple. Max was sure the second the crowds found out, they’d be cheering for you two more than anything else the entire weekend. 

He’d once heard in a movie you’d made him watch, another one of your rom-coms, that when you were in love, it felt like the whole world was on your side and Max was sure, considering who he was, that there was no way he could ever feel like that and then came the day that he realised he was in love with you. 

The whole world truly was on his side when it came to loving you. 

It was the natural order of things. Max didn’t really believe in fate or destiny or much like that, except when it came to you. Max was sure, without a shadow of a doubt he was destined to fall in love with you. His fate was always and ever only you. 

Suddenly Max was broken from his trance and pulled back into the conversation as the waiter's arm passed between the two of you, placing your drink in front of you, a Malibu sunset if he recalls, his beer shortly following. And so the evening continued, conversation flowed, laughter poured out of you all and Max could not be more thankful that this was his life. He was constantly drifting in and out of the different conversations, but always drawn back to you. Always utterly distracted by you and the second you distracted him, well then his mind began to wonder and it was filled with nothing but thoughts of you, and him, and tomorrow morning and how his entire life was about to change in the greatest way he could ever imagine. 

Until everything he was so sure of came crashing down around him. 

“Sorry, what was that?” he leaned forward, closer to you, inserting himself in the conversation between you and Lily. He had briefly taken note that you were discussing something about dating, it was another one of those moments where he got distracted, daydreaming about finally dating you, when his brain had caught on to what you had just said. 

“Oh, we’re just talking about which situations are creepy or not when you’re being hit on, because there are very distinct differences.” Lily caught him up on what exactly you two were discussing, you nod along before turning back to Lily to continue. 

“No, no I got that, sorry, I just, what did you say?” he gently tapped your shoulder, indicating that he wanted you to repeat what you had just said. 

“Oh, no I was just saying that the creepiest situation is when your boss hits on you. Like, there is nothing worse,” your face scrunched up in disgust as Lily laughed along with you and a few others that had now joined in the conversation. 

Fuck.

Max let out a forced laugh before dropping his arm from around your chair and abruptly standing and grabbing his phone off of the table, all eyes being drawn to him. “Sorry, sorry, I just remembered, I have to go sort something out, sorry.” He stumbled over the leg of his chair as he quickly tried to get as far away from the table as possible. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

The second he was out of sight of the table he was frantically searching for the florist's number, still moving towards the exit of the restaurant. All it did was ring. Again and again and again. And when it stopped ringing, Max simply dialled the number again. And with each new ring, his breath grew more ragged. 

And this is how Daniel found him, back against the wall, eyes closed, phone to his ear, breathing so shallow he was sure he was going to pass out any minute and a slew of curses streaming from him in between the aforementioned breaths. 

“Mate, you okay? What’s going on?” Max snapped his eyes open and swung his head round to Daniel, clearly searching behind him for someone that was clearly not Daniel. 

“I fucked up, oh my god I fucked up so bad.” The panic seeped off of him as he began dialling the number again. 

“Okay, calm down, we can fix it, it’s okay, just, what’s happening?” The phone only ever left Max’s ear so he could redial before it went straight back. 

“She said it was creepy when a boss hit on their employee!” Redial. 

“Mate, I’m sure she didn’t mean like, your guy's situation?” Daniel was almost 100% sure you hadn’t meant you and Max. You two were meant to be. There was no way you meant you two, “I mean, we all know how you guys feel about each other.”

“Has she said anything to you?” Redial. “Because I know I haven't shut up about her, but has anyone heard anything about how she feels about me?”

“No, she has not.” All that could be heard between either Max or Daniel was that stupid ringing that Max was sure would haunt his dreams for all eternity. 

“Who the FUCK does a romantic gesture without knowing how she feels about him?” Daniel took the phone from Max before it landed in the middle of the road, screen smashed. 

“Listen just because she hasn’t said anything doesn’t mean we can’t all see it.” Max was now slumped back against the wall, hands in his hair, nearly ripping it out by the root he was so stressed, “What did you get her anyway?”

“Flowers, and a note.” It had all been so perfect and then he had to ruin it all by making an assumption. 

“Oh, that’s not too bad?” 

“The note pretty much told her I am in love with her. Like, I want to marry her one day, called her my soul mate kind of note.” 

“This is slightly less good.” Max looked like he was on the verge of tears, “but again, you guys are best friends and I am sure she is just as in love with you as you are with her.”

“And I am her boss. I am her boss and I am about to lose my best friend and the love of my love. Oh I am so fucked.” During the lament of his life, Max had ended up face first, plastered to the wall, cheek squished up against it as it left indentations in his skin. 

“Hey, what's going on? You okay?” Both boys swung round to face you, as only two children who had been caught doing something they definitely shouldn’t would react. 

“Yeah, no, we’re good.” 

“It's all fine.”

It was all too fast and the deep indentations in Max’s face were leaving you more concerned, but you barely had any time to respond before both boys were making their way towards you. Daniel placing his hand on your lower back to guide you back inside. Not Max. Your chair was pulled out for you again. Not Max again. And there was an arm missing from the back of your chair for the rest of the evening. 

Most importantly though, there was a pair of eyes on you for the rest of the night too, not Max though. He could barely look at you for the remainder of the time there. Eyes avoided. Physical touch avoided. Conversation avoided. 

It was far too noticeable for you to let go and you turned to Daniel, his eyes already on you, and you gave him a questioning look. The shake of Daniels head doing nothing to placate your concerns. 

“You can talk to me if you need? It’s my job as your assistant to deal with you 24/7 you know?” It was your attempt at a light hearted joke, but as you whispered to him, it did nothing but break his heart. This had solidified it for him. He was your boss and he was about to become your creepy boss. 

“No, I’m just, social battery ran out, I think I’m going to head out.” He got up before you could protest anymore, and bid his farewells, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You missed the ‘hopefully’ he whispered after he was out of earshot. 

___________

Max had the first free practice of the season tomorrow and here he was, 2am, wide awake, doing everything he can to avoid looking at his phone, well aware of the messages you’d sent him. 

He was such a fucking coward. 

It was meant to be perfect. It was all meant to be perfect. You were meant to get the flowers and read the note and run down to breakfast and hug him and be his girlfriend and you two were meant to live happily ever after.And he had made an assumption. He had just assumed you’d felt the same. 

Now all he’d be was your creepy boss. 

This is what he drifted off to sleep to. Thoughts of you quitting and him never seeing you again. 

He felt that this year was going to be different, that it was going to be great. He didn’t realise it was the year of the great fuck up that as his life. 

______

“Has she said anything?” Daniel stood next to Max as he dished up from the buffet in front of them. God Max hated buffets. You’d once mentioned off hand the amount of bacteria that they had, open food and all. He couldn’t look at them the same after. 

“Nope, but she’s definitely received them. Got the message from the florist this morning.” The second his phone pinged with the notification he felt sick. It was his own personal warning that his life was now ruined.  

He was thankful Daniel hadn’t followed him to the table, clearly realising he needed to be alone. Throughout breakfast all Max could do was pick at the measly amount of food on his plate and glance up at the entrance to the dining room. Waiting for the moment you walked through the door and he’d have to face his failures. 

He tried to get a mouthful in, but as he glanced up, there you were, standing at the buffet, same look he was sure he had on his own as he stood there. He couldn't take his eyes off of you and suddenly you were looking directly at him. 

Scratch that, you were making your way directly over to him. 

Shit, this was going to happen. Right now. In a dining room full of people. 

He could feel Daniels eyes on the two of you as you pulled your chair out to take a seat next to him. 

“Hey, are you feeling better today?” God that was like you, always, always making sure that everyone around you was okay, it was one of the first things that made him fall for you, how deeply you cared and god, he really needed to stop talking about this. 

“Yeah, uhm, listen, I really am so sorry.” You cut him off with a wave of your hand, yoghurt covered spoon waving in his direction.

“For what? For having an off night? There’s nothing to be sorry for. Everyones allowed.” You placed the next spoonful of your breakfast in your mouth. You were carrying on eating and Max could barely breathe. 

“And you? Are you doing okay?” It was a tentative question, both preparing himself for the inevitable conversation and shying away from it. 

“Yeah, well, I mean, something weird happened this morning, but I’m good.” There was a blush. There was a blush and a small smile. This may be good. Max could feel air slightly enter his lungs again. 

“Weird how?” An attempt to sound nonchalant. A poor one, but clearly you hadn’t picked up on it. 

“Well, I got flowers and a note delivered to my room this morning,” you played with the food in your bowl, the blush deepening, “my favourite flowers and the cutest note.”

“And why is that weird?” Here it comes. 

“Well, there was no name on the note, so I have no idea who sent it.” 

“There was no name?” 

“Nope, but I’m pretty sure he’s from the grid, just like, there were some references that makes me think it’s a driver,” Max’s wide eyes surprised you, “Do you know who sent them? Did any of them talk to you?” 

“Wait, there was no name?” You only nodded in return, curious to see where this was headed. 

He forgot. Holy shit. He had forgotten to sign his name on the note. He wasn’t your creepy boss. He was still your best friend. In his excitement, he had forgotten the most important part of the entire thing, his name, and it had indirectly saved him. 

“Do you think you could help me figure out who it was?”

Well, it had saved him until that. 

______

Next Chapter

[ponstermenis-writing]

✩ (There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays ✩

Darrel Curtis & Everyone Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Darbit

̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙冬˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆̣̥

Ever since their folks died, Darry’s been handling the holidays.

The first year they didn’t do anything—they died relatively close to thanksgiving, so it felt wrong to celebrate. But ever since then he goes overboard .

None of them are complaining, a lot of greasers don’t celebrate at all—Johnny and Steve both didn’t even know what Christmas was before the Curtis folks introduced it to them. The only reason Dallas knew was because, well, New York is kind of the place for Christmas.

Their mother loved the holidays. She and Dad would take off work and spend the day with them—it was a lot like those hallmark movies she forced them to watch. Darry didn’t dare let those memories die—he’d put up all the decorations on the first weekend of December, The Beach Boys and Brenda Lee would be on the record player until January.

It was currently December 23rd. Darry didn’t plan on waiting this long to put up decor. But he’d been swamped with work and he knew Pony and Soda would half-ass it. He enlisted Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit to help.

“Do people even use Nutcrackers?” Two-Bit asked, opening and closing the mouth. “It’s more of a looks thing, Two.” Soda laughs, trying desperately to hang up lights over the fireplace. “Yeah, lord knows Darry doesn’t have enough decorations already.” Two-Bit teases, laughing nervously when Darry glares at him.

“When you finally get your own place, you’re gonna wish I was still around.” Darry gripes, untangling lights for the roofline. “Aw, you wouldn’t come with me?” Two-Bit says, putting his hands in a prayer motion with an obnoxious pout in his face. “I couldn’t deal with the mess you bring.” Darry can’t help but laugh at his own comment—Two-Bit is less amused, an offended sound coming out of his mouth.

“Do you boys want to help me put these up?” Darry asks before Two-Bit can say anything in return. Johnny and Ponyboy share a look—they always managed to communicate without ever actually saying anything. “Sure.” Ponyboy says, standing. “Beats translating Feliz Navidad for Soda again.” Johnny adds.

Soda whips around to frown at him, looking utterly heartbroken. “The lyrics never change, man.” Johnny laughs, bumping into him as they pass by.

Getting onto the roof was always a struggle. Ponyboy’s terrified of heights—but putting up the lights out there makes him feel grown. Darry lifts them up one by one, letting both boys stand on his shoulders and hoist themselves up. Darry can reach The roofline by using a small stepladder from work, so he’s never really had to climb up there.

Putting the outdoor lights up used to be Darry and Mr.Curtis’s job—it’s probably why he’s so insistent that one of the boys do it with him—like it’s a right of passage, or something.

He tosses the lights and the little plastic clips up to the boys and tells them where to put ‘em—he usually fixes the lights after they’re done anyway, but he knows the boys both like helping out.

They’re about halfway done when Johnny pauses, glancing down at the ground just past Darry.

“Jesus.” Dallas groans. “Going all out again this year, huh Darry?” He teases, standing beside him with his arms crossed. Dallas is what the gang lovingly called, a grouch. He doesn’t like the holidays, even when he was little he’d roll his eyes at the mention.

“Hey Dally!” Johnny calls down to him, leaning over the roofline to smile at him. Darry doesn’t miss how Dallas falters—like Johnny’s gonna fall and he’ll have to catch him. “Be careful! Jesus.” Dallas grunts, The other three laughing at him—Dallas was easily the least cautious of them all. But he’d wrap Johnny up in bubble wrap if he could.

“I thought you were going to New York for Christmas?” Johnny asks, ignoring his comment and still very much leaning over the roof.

“I couldn’t leave you guys all alone.” Dallas shrugs. Darry knows deep down that he loves the holidays with them—but he’s smart enough not to comment too obviously. “Besides, nothing up there I haven’t seen before.”

Darry can’t help but smile, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dallas isn’t much younger than he is—but just like the rest of the gang, he’ll always be Darry’s little brother. “You wouldn’t mind helping us out, would you Dal?” He asks, glancing up at the roof.

Dallas scoffs. “No, Than—“ he pauses, seeing Johnny stare down at him hopefully. “Fine.” He groans, squeezing onto the stepladder beside him and hoisting himself up. He makes a point to drag Johnny and Pony both back a bit so they won’t fall.

Even if they did, they’d crash into snow-covered bushes just a few feet under them. If it were any higher, Darry’d be worried too—but Two-Bit skydived from the height when he was really drunk last summer, so he knew it was fine.

Dallas was actually pretty damn good at putting the lights up where they belong. “For someone who hates it, you sure do have an eye for Christmas decor.” Ponyboy jokes, narrowly dodging the smack Dallas aimed at the back of his head.

Just as their hands were beginning to freeze off, they were finished. Darry helped them all back down—Much to Dally’s chagrin, he did not like help in any sense of the word. They all stood back to take in the house.

“Looks shit.” Dallas says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’ll look better at night.” Pony retorts matter-of-factly. “Speaking of,” Darry says, heading inside while the others trail after him. “You both are staying over tonight, right?”

“I don’t see why not.” Dallas shrugs, slinging his arm around Johnny's shoulder. They all look at the boy expectantly. “I think my Ma wants me home.” He mutters, not looking at them. Dallas scoffs, Ponyboy frowns—but Darry has learned how to get him to stay.

“Aw… I already started making some Mac & Cheese for you.” Darry sighs—he hates guilting Johnny—really, he does. But hey, it works. “Yeah! I thought you were gonna walk with me tonight, too!” Ponyboy adds, looking at the boy expectantly.

“I-I’m sure they won’t miss me too much.” Johnny says finally, giving them an awkward smile. Darry and Pony share a secret high-five—they officially had the whole gang together for Christmas. Two-Bit and Steve often go off with their families for the actual night of Christmas Eve, but the night before works just as well.

“Geez, if I hear one more Christmas song, I’m gonna riot.” Dallas says as they walk inside—hearing Perry Como croon on about being home for the holidays. “My house, my rules.” Darry says, shucking off his jacket. “Which means the Christmas music stays on .” Dallas groans loud enough to alert everyone else of his presence.

“Well, if it isn’t New York’s sweetheart!” Two-Bit calls from the living room. “Glad to know you stayed home, Dal.” He teases, nudging him lightly as he walks back. Two-Bit was the first person of the gang Dallas became pals with—Two was one of the few people who could poke fun at him without getting clocked.

“Yeah, Knew you fella’s would be lonely without me.” Dallas says—Darry doesn’t miss the glance back at Johnny, Dally’s un-official-but-also-un-questionable little brother. Two-Bit just smiles, handing him a balled up chunk of tinsel. “We sure missed the extra pair of hands!”

Dallas groans but does as he’s asked. Johnny goes back to putting up the candles, Pony tries his best to hang ornaments on the tree.

The candles actually weren’t something the Curtis folks ever did—in fear of burning the house down. But ever since Johnny told them that he was Jewish and the closest he’d ever gotten to a holiday with his folks was Hanukkah when he was really little, how could Darry say no?

Annually, at least two ornaments are smashed and one string of lights stops working. Two-Bit found this year's string, holding it up triumphantly. “Lookie here!” He calls, showing it to Darry before he trashes it. Darrel can’t help but chuckle. “It’s not a competition, you know.” He says, letting Two-Bit throw an arm around his shoulder—he’s a little shorter, so his arm has to reach awkwardly around his neck.

“Yeah, well. I still won.” He says, leaning in to smirk in Darry’s face. He’s shoved away a moment later when Ponyboy shuffles into the kitchen. They aren’t very… open about their relationship yet. Johnny and Soda both found out the hard way—but everyone else had no clue. It wasn’t homophobia they were worried about—it was the teasing.

“Can you make us some hot chocolate?” Ponyboy begs—he’s obviously talking about him and Johnny, but the poor boy can’t ask for anything even after all these years. Even when he was stuck in that wheelchair—he was insistent that nobody else move him around or help him carry things. He could walk on his own now, but his back still hurt when he’d stand for too long.

“Sure,” Darry says, smiling evilly. “If you can name all the reindeer I will.��

Ponyboy just groans, walking off. Two-Bit chuckles, grabbing two hot chocolate packets anyway. “I don’t get why he doesn’t make it himself.” He says, heating up some milk in the microwave—after many failed attempts at dinner, Two-Bit Matthews is not allowed to touch the stovetop. Ever.

“He claims that I make it best.” Darry shrugs. “He’s just too lazy to mix it all the way—there’s nothing I do different.”

“Really? Are you sure there isn’t a secret ingredient?” Two-Bit askes, making a kissy-face as he dumps far too many marshmallows into both cups. Darry just rolls his eyes.

Two-Bit walks the cups to the boys and Darry follows—partially to know he doesn’t spill it, partially because he feels lonely in the kitchen by himself. Ponyboy takes both of them gratefully, handing Johnny his cup.

Darry can’t help but feel love surge in his chest—he stands in the doorway that leads to the kitchen, watching over his boys. Johnny picks the marshmallows off and hands them to Dallas, leaning his head on his shoulder while he unravels tinsel. Ponyboy leans against Johnny's legs—he’s on the floor while Dallas and Johnny are on the couch—and sips idly at his own cup, humming along to the music. Soda and Steve keep trying to shove each other under the mistletoe, Two-Bit cheering them on.

“You look happy.” A voice says from behind him. Darry jumps halfway out of his skin, turning around so quickly that he almost smacks his head against the wooden door frame.

Tim Shepard gives him an amused look. Even he looks rather Christmas-y—he’s all bundled up with a hat and gloves that he definitely got from Mr.Curtis a few years back. He’s got a few presents in his hand and a slight smile on his face.

“You scared me.” Darry mutters, breathing out a sigh. “But yeah, I guess I am.” He spares a glance back—Dallas, Johnny, and Ponyboy are all staring at him. “Whatchu’ got there?” Darry asks Tim, trying to ignore the eyes on them.

Tim groans, handing him the boxes. “The bottom two are from Curly—to Johnny and Pony, I guess. But apparently they can’t know it’s from him.” He says, chuckling. “Top three are from me.” He says, not looking at him.

“Well, thank you.” He says, glancing down. “Can I ask who they’re for?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You, Dallas, and Johnny.” He shrugs—Darrel can tell he’s embarrassed. Tim might be one of the most hardcore guys currently in the house, but even he has his own nervous ticks. “I thought I owed you something—y’know, for all those times you gave us dinner and shit. Thanks, by the way—I don’t think I ever said that.” He rambles, still not daring to meet his eyes.

Darry can’t help but smile. “It was no problem.” He says simply, tucking the gifts under his arm. “I assume you have a reason to give something to Johnny and Dallas as well?” He says—he can’t help his teasing tone.

Tim glares at him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They’re good kids.” He says simply, leaning back on the banister by the front door. “Someone’s gotta hang out with Curly, Y’know? Better Cade than anyone else.” Tim shrugs. “Dal has dragged both of ‘em home more times than I can count.”

Darry nods, setting the gifts down. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” He says, dragging a plate from the cabinets. “I assume they shouldn’t know these are from you either?” He can’t help but smile—he dumps the rest of their leftover cookies on the plate and wraps it with saran wrap. Tim pretends not to notice. “Looks like they already do.” He chuckles, glancing back into the living room.

Tim takes the plate gratefully, tucking it under his jacket before saying goodbye with his head ducked down. He’s gone a second later—cat-like agility letting him out of the house before Darrel can even answer him.

“Aw, you gave him the rest?” Ponyboy pouts, walking into the kitchen once Tim is gone—Johnny shuffling in behind him. “I’ll make more.” Darry chuckles. He finds the gift with his name on it and removes it from the pile, handing the rest to the two boys. “These are for you.”

“Really?” Johnny can’t help but say hopefully, glancing back at the door. Darry knows deep down that he looks up to Tim about as much as he does Dallas—he was a Shepard before he was ever a Curtis. And Tim is arguably cooler than Dal. “Uh huh,” Darry smiles, hiding his own behind his back. “One of thems for Dally, okay?”

Johnny and Ponyboy nod and walk off into the living room. Darry can hear Dallas laugh when he’s handed the gift.

He waits till they can’t see him to open his own. It’s simple—just a packet of new socks. But he knows it’s a lot from the Shephards. It means Tim was listening too—sometimes he’ll help Darrel out at work for extra cash—he remembers complaining about the holes in his socks that he couldn’t replace. Darry smiles to himself, tucking the pack back into the wrapping paper—it had been so horribly done, but it was clear Tim tried—and putting it aside.

He’s halfway through getting out the things for a new batch of cookies when Dallas and Johnny enter the kitchen.

“Me and Johnnycakes are gonna go say thank you.” Dallas says, ruffling Johnny’s hair. “No you aren’t.” Ponyboy calls from the living room. “You’re gonna make fun of ‘em!”

Darry crosses his arms, raising a brow at the two. “Are you?” He asks, glaring only at Dallas. “I got something I gotta give to Curly.” Johnny mutters—poor boy thinks he’s angry at him too. Darry just places a kiss on his hairline and sends him off, reminding him to stay warm even for the short walk.

“C’mon Dar, he knew this was gonna happen.” Dallas says, smirking. “Don’t be rude, Dallas. You should be happy he thought of you at all.” Most of the time—Dallas and Tim aren’t on the greatest terms. Darrry knows that better than anyone, having to patch them both up after a nasty fight or two.

“Ya hear that, Dal?” Two-Bit says, sticking his head in the room. He holds a hand up to his ear and pretends to listen. “That’s Santa Claus calling you an asshole.” He teases. Dallas smacks him on the back of the head—just hard enough to sting. “I’ll take the naughty list and shove it right up your ass.” He bites, still glaring at the redhead.

Darry rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna go over there and say thank you.” He commands. Dallas isn’t scared of him by any means—but everyone knows it’s not the best idea to anger someone twice your size. “I’m sure Johnny won’t let you be rude, anyway.” Two-Bit laughs as Dallas saunters off.

“What’d Tim give yuh’?” He asks once Dallas is gone, eyeing the rewrapped gift. “Socks.” Darry says simply, grabbing the ingredients for the cookies. “How sentimental.” Two-Bit chuckles, hoisting himself up to sit on the countertop right where he’s trying to work. “I bet my gift is better.”

“I hope it isn’t similar to what you tried last year.” Darry groaned, shoving him lightly to get him off the parchment paper. “You loved my gift last year!” Two-Bit says defensively. “Besides, it turned out to be, like… the best coming out ever.”

“I’m sure Johnny and Soda would disagree with you.”

“They’ve got their own things going on.” Twobit shrugs, leaning back on the kitchen wall. Darry pauses, raising a brow.

“Come on… don’t say you haven’t noticed.”

“Notice what?”

“You know what!”

“No—No I…I really don't.”

Two-bit groans. “I mean, don’t stay Steve and Soda aren’t a little… suspicious.”

“You act like they’re committing a crime.” Darry can’t help but laugh. “I think it is, in some states.” Two-Bit shrugs. Darry just rolls his eyes. “What about Johnny, though? What’s going on with him?”

“Darry…” Two-Bit sighs, looking at him like he’s about to destroy his innocence. “Two teenage boys don’t lock the door when they’re alone for no reason.”

He has to pause and think for a second. He immediately slaps the man upside the head, causing him to topple forward and almost hit the floor. “I don’t want to hear that!” Darry whisper-yells, acutely aware of the gang still in the living room.

I mean… he assumed something was going on. But he really doesn��t want to know what his sixteen year old brother—who in his eyes, is still a baby—gets up to with his seventeen-almost-eighteen year old friend when they’re alone—he doesn’t want to hear about what Sodapop is up to either!

“Communication is key in every relationship—“ Two-Bit begins as he’s shoved out of the kitchen. “Hey, ow! You’re only upset because it’s true—“ he pauses, glancing up at the doorway.

Ponyboy is standing there with an amused look on his face, glancing at the two. “Was gonna ask where you wanted this.” He says, laughing as he holds up an ornament Sodapop made when he was real young. “I’ll just guess.” He’s gone a second later, letting Two-Bit finally right himself. He puts his hands up in defeat and shuffles out as well.

Darry is halfway through making the cookie dough when Dallas and Johnny show up again. Dallas now has a reasonably sized bruise on his jaw—he definitely did not listen. Johnnys still laughing when they get inside, pulling off his jacket.

“Looks like you two had fun.” Darry says, raising a brow at Dallas—the blonde just walks off with a groan. “Tim was the only one home.” Johnny says, holding up his little present still. “Bummer.” Darry chuckles, watching Dallas throw himself down on the couch.

Johnny lingers behind a second too long, glancing at the bowl in his hand. “Wanna help?” Darry asks, knowing Johnny won’t say anything on his own. “Uh—“ He mutters, glancing back into the living room. “I uhm… I promised Pony I’d help him with the ornaments. Sorry Darry.”

“No problem.” Darry says, going back to mixing. “Can you grab Steve and Soda while you’re in the other room?” He asks. Johnny nods quickly and scampers off before anything else can be said.

Steve and Soda are his sous chefs when it comes to dessert. Not because they’re good at it—but instead because they eat the batter or dough, and will not hesitate to complain if they don’t get any.

He hands the spoon to Soda the second he’s there, trusting him with it while he searches the cupboards for vanilla extract. He’s in the middle of his search when he hears giggling from the other room.

Upon further inspection, Johnny and Ponyboy seem to be messing around under the doorway to the hall all of their rooms are in. “Cut it out, Pone!“ Johnny laughs, red-faced and actively trying to shove the boy off. Pony is trying to pull him closer, making kissy faces and missing Johnny’s face entirely. “It’s mistletoe, John! We have to!”

Two-Bit is sitting on the couch next to Dallas—who is really into getting that tinsel untangled, giving Darry a knowing look. The older simply rolls his eyes, heading back in the kitchen. He doesn't remember ever owning or putting up mistletoe, and he’d bet money that he was right about who did.

“Jesus, how much did you two eat?” He gasps, staring at the—now half full—bowl. “I don’t appreciate the fat-shaming, Darrel.” Sodapop says, crossing his arms. Steve wipes some of the dough off of the corner of his mouth, nodding along. “Yeah, We’re growing boys!”

Darry can’t help but laugh, nudging the both of them out of the way. “You both are considered legal adults in the eyes of the law.” He says simply, mixing in the vanilla extract into the bowl before the two finish it off.

He’s able to get it into the oven with only a few instances of him slapping the boy’s hands away with a spoon. The best friends give up once the oven is shut, retreating back into the living room. Darrel sets the timer and heads back into the living room to check on the progress.

It truly does look beautiful—just like their mother had done. Johnny and Pony were still quietly placing ornaments on the tree, Steve and Soda were back to string garlands on the mantle, Dallas had finally got the tinsel unraveled and was trying his best to be careful putting it on the tree—realistically the tinsel should go first, but he's so proud of the boy for trying that he doesn't dare comment. Two-Bit is off to the side fucking with the nutcrackers—because he’s Two-Bit.

Darry watches silently from the doorway. His boys truly are some genuine souls, aren’t they? He used to be so confused when Mrs.Curtis would watch quietly, smiling to herself like she truly had it all. Darry finally understands that feeling—love swelling in his chest, he can’t help but feel his eyes get wet.

Two-Bit had somehow managed to sneak behind him. “Looks like a hallmark movie.” He says, leaning his chin on Darry’s shoulder and watching alongside him. “Yeah—Yeah, it really does.” Darry chuckles, his voice cracking as he's unable to hold back just how happy he is. Two-Bit smiles, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “You did good.” He whispers. “You raised some pretty hardcore kids. We really are like a big happy family.”

Darry has to take deep breaths to stop himself from sobbing—has he ever been this happy before? Has he ever felt so content?

Two-Bit just chuckles, placing something in his hands before walking off to get back to his work. It's thin and celluloid—upon closer inspection, it's a polaroid. It truly is something that should be something put in a museum.

It's a wide shot of the living room. He’s not sure when it was taken—Clearly it was Two-Bit’s work, but he’d been idly watching them all for half an hour now. In the middle of the picture is the tree. Dallas has his arm around Johnny’s shoulder while he’s pointing at one of the ornaments—it's one Mr.Curtis had gotten for Johnny on his first Christmas with them. You can only see the back of Dallas’s head, but you can just barely see the smile on Johnny’s face. Ponyboy is right beside him smiling just as wide, resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder while he listens in. To their right is the fireplace, setting a yellow-ish glow on the whole room—Steve and Soda are meticulously putting the garland in place and fixing the candles in-between, Soda’s got his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth—something he always did when he was focusing–and Steve is very clearly giving him orders.

To the left, just barely in frame, it's him. He really does look like his father—standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the wooden doorframe, a content smile on his face as he looks out at the whole scene.

Darry rushed off to his room before anyone could see. He sits down on his bed—staring down at the picture as tears fill his eyes. Something about having the memory caught in place forever really got to him. The fact that Two-Bit knew to take a picture, the warm glow the whole room gave, the content look on everyone's faces.

Darry didn’t consider himself an emotional being. That was Soda’s job—he was the dream-crusher who made sure everything went how it needed to. But in moments like these he couldn’t help loving them—he knows one day they’ll all move on and only visit him when they have to. But for now, all his boys are home. They’re home, they’re happy… they’re safe.

A few quiet knocks hit his door and he immediately knows who it is. He wipes away his tears and tucks the photo in his lap. “You can come in, Johnny.” He says, willing his voice not to crack. Johnny peeks his head in a moment later, looking all guilty.

“Are you okay?” He asks, frowning when he sees Darry’s sad look. He doesn’t really know how to explain this feeling to him—Johnny’s never had a family other than them, and everytime he gets comfortable here—his home, blood be damned—he’d always be forced back into the house with the two people who love him the most. “I’m alright baby, just a lot of feelings.” He replies, giving the boy the best smile he can muster.

Johnny gasps, shutting the door behind him. “Are you crying?” He whispers, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Is this because I broke that ornament? I-I’m real sorry, Darry—It just slipping from my hands, I really didn’t—”

Darry interrupts him with a chuckle, holding his arms out for a hug. Johnny responds immediately, stepping up and letting Darry hug him. “No, it's not that.” Darry says, ruffling his hair. “I don’t care about some silly ornament.”

“Y-You sure…? I think I saw one like it at the corner store—”

“Johnny.” Darry interrupts, he knows the boy’ll talk himself back into that mindset that everything is his fault if he doesn’t. “I promise you, I’m not upset. Just happy tears.” He says, letting Johnny sit down on the bed beside him. He hands Johnny the photo, watching his face closely. “Gee…” Johnny mutters, smiling down at it. “Golly Darry, I think I’m gonna cry too.”

Darrel chuckles, ruffling his hair. “I think the cookies are done, if you want one.” He says, nudging him. “They should still be soft, I know you like them that way.” Johnny jumps to his feet–giddy with excitement. “Thanks Darry!” He says, handing him back the photo and rushing off to the kitchen. He can hear the boy excitedly tell Pony about the finished cookies and them both rushing to grab them.

He manages to fix himself up before he heads back out. “Everything alright?” Dallas askes as he passes, not looking at him. “Of course.” Darry smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly. “Just, happy to have everyone here.” He says, deciding there's no point hiding the wetness of his voice from his earlier sob-fest. Dallas, who was never big on expressing his feelings, rolls his eyes with a half-hearted smile. “Jeez, You’re a big ol’ sap. Y’know that?”

“You’re not any better.” Darrel teases, shoving him lightly before heading back into the kitchen. Johnny and Pony are splitting one of the cookies in half, idly watching the TV from the kitchen counter. “Any good?” Darrel askes, taking one.

“Mph—“ Ponyboy grunts, nodding his head with his mouth full. “Very good.” He adds once he finishes chewing. Darry can’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair. “Make sure not to eat them all.”

“I can’t believe you’d think so low of us.” Ponyboy replies defensively, grabbing another from the tin. “Just don’t want you two having too much sugar,” Darrel chuckles, moving the tin away from both boys. “With the advent calendar and all the candy, more cookies is the last thing you need. You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t finish the whole calendar on day one.” Ponyboy laughs around a mouthful of cookie, reaching for his cup of water when he chokes. Darry just sighs, taking his own and sauntering back to the living room.

He sits down on the couch beside Two-Bit, breaking the cookie in half and giving one to him. Two-Bit shoves the whole thing in his mouth without blinking, watch the lovey-dovey Christmas movie on the TV.

“Which one is this?”

“Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit mutters—though he pretends to sound uninterested, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen. Darrel raises a brow, watching the screen for a moment before deciding that this is a very horrible movie. “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing.”

“ ‘M not.” Two-Bit says defensively. “Every channel is playing a somethin’ Christmas, this was just the least-worst one.”

Darrel was sitting there for about half an hour before he realizes that he’s actually watching this piece-of-shit movie. “Darry.” Two-Bit says as the credits roll, glancing over at him. “Hmm?” Darrel hums, still not taking his eyes off the screen.

“You’re my Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit whispers, making a kissy face. Darrel finally looks at him, grimacing. “Wow, that was…” he holds back a gag. “ Horrible . That was really horrible.”

“Just take the compliment.” Two-Bit groans, leaning away from him as if Darrel has betrayed him. Darry just rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips—he pulls himself to his feet a moment later, going through the box of Christmas ornaments.

He pulled the delicate star from the very bottom, covered in layers of bubble wrap and packing paper. Ponyboy is standing right behind him when he pulls it out, ready to take it in his hand. “C’mon Johnny!” He calls into the kitchen. “We gotta put the star on the tree!”

Johnny comes out of the kitchen a moment later, Dallas in tow. “Do I need to lift you up or something?” Johnny askes, glancing at the very delicate items in the boy’s hands. “I don’t think you can.” Ponyboy chuckles.

“Hey! I’ve been doing very well since the fire, y’know! Soda’s been taking me to the gym an—“

“That's not what I meant.” Ponyboy interrupts, placing a hand over the boy's mouth—he tears it away when he licks it, wiping it on Darry’s shirt because… well, why wouldn’t he? “You’re like—5’8” man, I’d crush you.”

“And a half!” Johnny adds, crossing his arms. “And I’ll have you know I picked Dally up once.”

“Barely.” Dallas chuckles from behind him. “My back still hurts from when you dropped me.”

“I don’t want to hear anything from anyone else about a hurt back.” Johnny grumbles, glaring at him. Two-Bit throws his head back laughing on the couch, pulling Steve and Soda out of Soda’s room.

Ponyboy just rolls his eyes, scooping Johnny up and helping him onto his shoulder. Johnny fights it at first, cutting it out the second he’s in the air in fear of plummeting to the floor. Johnny grasps onto Ponyboy’s head. “Don’t drop me!”

“I won’t.” Pony laughs, handing the star up to him.

It takes Ponyboy a minute to get to the tree, trying hard not to run into things with Johnny's hands very much over his eyes. It takes the boy a minute to lift his arm up, careful not to lean forward too much. He’s finally able to stick it on there, already begging to be let down.

Darry picks him up by the armpits and plops him on the ground as gracefully as he can. Johnny lets out a sigh of relief, thanking him.

They all stand back to look at the tree, fully lit with glittering tinsel and shiny ornaments. It’s already beginning to get dark outside—though it’s only five. Darry wants to stand and stare at it all night—but he knows these boys need to eat.

“I’ll go start dinner.” He says, wiping his hands on his shirt just to bush them. “You boys are free for the day.”

Ponyboy tugs on his shirt sleeve just before he walks off. “Can we go outside and play in the snow?” He whisper-asks—looking at him pleadingly. Darry—Already knowing this won’t end well, but also knowing how desperately they all wanted to go in the snow…

“Alright.” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re all bundled up, and don’t track snow through the house.” Ponyboy agrees excitedly, already running off.

Sure enough—Dallas, Pony, and Johnny all pass by him a moment later decked out in snow gear. Dallas gives him a thumbs up, as if to say ‘don’t worry, I’ll watch them’.

He’s halfway through mixing up the Mac & Cheese he promised when the three reminding members of that gang saunter into the kitchen. “Can we help?” Soda askes.

Darry smiles, ruffling his hair. “Of course you can.”

It went by a lot quicker with all hands on deck—Darry even managed to catch a photo of them all cooking, and one of the other three in the snow. He kept a close eye on his helpers—Two barely got the ham out in time, Soda put way too much sugar in the cake, Steve spent more time drinking the pasta sauce out of the ladle than he did making the noodles.

But they got it done.

They did it together, too.

“Boys!” Darry calls out, opening the window to stick his head out. Dallas was in the middle of pelting Ponyboy in the face with a snowball—it hit the second Darry finished talking. “Dinners ready.” Darry chuckles.

The three of them come barreling in a second later, smart enough to take off their shoes. Darry takes their jackets, sending them all into a room to change into warm clothes.

He tosses the jackets on the porch, shutting the door extra tight behind him to keep the snow out.

He puts down the—Christmas themed, of course—tablecloth, setting up plates and silverware. He puts the different pans full of food along the counter-top, very impressed with their work.

“Alright guys, one at a time.” He says just as the other three walk out of the rooms—wearing too-big sweaters and sweatpants. They all go one at a time and dump food onto their plate, sitting down at the dining table in their usual spots.

“Jesus, John—“ Dallas chuckles, picking leaves out of his hair. “Your hair is like a breeding ground for all the plants on the ground, man.” He says, ruffling it to see if any more leaves or twigs would fall out. “Never call my hair a ‘breeding ground’ again.” Johnny mutters, annoyed, smacking Dallas’s hand away—a piece of ham hanging from his mouth.

They eat mostly in silence, forks clinking against porcelain as they all dig in. Darry knows he isn’t the best cook on the planet—but watching them all tear it apart like they’re starved definitely makes him feel a bit better about it.

Darry collects all the plates when they’re done, dumping them in the sink—he tells himself he’ll wash them before bed, but he’s almost 100% sure he won’t. “Everyone in the living room,” he says, helping Johnny out of his seat. “I have a present for you all.”

“Is it a puppy?” Ponyboy asks excitedly, rushing to sit down on the couch. “Not necessarily…” Darry smiles—he has to hide his smirk. Realistically he knows they will all hate this gift. But hey, if he had to spend his entire early-adult life raising them, he gets to embarrass them once or twice.

He hands them all a wrapper box with their names on it. “You guys don’t have to look so scared.” He chuckles, watching Soda be the first to slowly peel back the paper.

“You’re joking.” He says, deadpanned. “You did not actually do this.”

“What is it?” Ponyboy asks, leaning over his brothers shoulders. Soda pulls out the contents of the box and holds it up for all of them to see. A chorus of loud groans fill the room, heads falling back against the cushions.

“You got us matching pajamas?” Two-Bit asks, raising a brow. He’s easily the most on board—beside Darry, of course. Mostly because there aren’t many ways to embarrass him past what he’s already done.

“You cannot make me wear this.” Dallas says simply, crossing his arms. For the options he had—Darry could have chosen much more embarrassing ones.

It was a simple white top with their names embroidered on the right of their chest, and a pair of pajama pants to go with. Soda got red plaid, Two-Bit and Darry got green—he made a point to get Dallas and Steve the ones with little reindeers and red bows to really embarrass them—Johnny got gingerbread and snowmen, Pony got little presents and elves.

“Oh, yes you will.” Darry chuckles darkly. “If you’re staying in my house, you’re wearing those.”

“So suddenly we’re not family anymore, huh?” Dallas grunts. “You’re gonna kick me out over pajamas ?”

“Yep.” Darry smirks—realistically, he won’t. But he knows Dallas will do it—he doesn’t care how much the boy complains. Their mother wanted to do this when they were all little—but each and every child shut the idea down and fought tooth and nail to keep her away. Darry very much remembers almost biting his father over them.

Dallas groans loudly, dropping them in the box. “You’re lucky Buck’s is closed for the night.” He says, tucking it under his arm. “How come me and Dallas got the worst ones?“ Steve complains—he doesn’t even seem completely turned off by the idea, but very much so about the fact that he got the girliest ones—the background of the pattern is a barely noticeable pink.

“Because they bring out your eyes.” Two-Bit jokes, narrowly ducking under the box hurled at his head. Darrel just chuckles, standing. “Don’t worry, I have to wear them too.” He says, holding up his own.

“We don’t have to put them on now , do we?” Ponyboy asks, pointedly not looking at his own.

“Depends,” Darry begins, tucking his box under his arm. “Who wants to run an errand with me?”

The room is silent for a long while, all glancing at each other. Johnny sighs and stands. “I’ll go.” He mutters, like he’s taking on for the team. Pony stands right after. “Me too.” He says quickly.

Darry smiles. “Great.” He says, ruffling their hair as they walk past him to the door. “The rest of you better have those on when we get back.” Darry says evilly, walking off and ignoring all the sudden volunteers.

He makes sure Johnny grabs his gift before they go—Darry wraps both boys up in jackets, scarves, and gloves. It’ll on get colder.

He loads the leftovers in the truck, letting Pony and Johnny hold them still in the backseat. “Where we goin’?” Johnny askes, looking up at him confusedly. “We’ve got a few deliveries to make.” Darry says simply, putting the truck in gear and driving off.

First is the Shepards.

He separates a decent amount onto a seperate plates for them, wrapping it up before handing the few plates of food too the two boys. He walks up the rickety porch and rings the bell.

“Whaddaya want.” Curly answers, throwing the door open. His eyes go wide when he sees who it is. “Oh. Shit, my bad.” He says, not looking at him. “No problem, Curly.” Darry smiles, handing him the plate in his hands. “In case y’all are hungry.”

Curly stares down at the plates with wide eyes before finally taking them, setting them on the couch beside him. “Thanks, I guess.” He says, showing his hands in his jean pockets. Ponyboy rolls his eyes, already walking off to the car. Darrel has to grip the back of his jacket to keep him from running off.

“Tell Tim I said thank you.” Darry says, not seeing the older boy anywhere.

“Yeah man, no problem.” Curly nods.

“Me too.” Johnny mutters, peeking his head out from behind the older Curtis. “To you too. Thanks for the gift, it was very nice.” He says in a teasing tone, a devilish smile on his face. Curly’s whole face goes bright red—so red, in fact, that they can see it even in the fleeting lamp light.

“How did you—“ he begins, cutting himself off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Johnny just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess you don’t want this, then.” He says, waving his own gift in the boy's face. Curly snatches it from his hand, looking down to see his name sharpied on the wrapping paper. “You got me something? You really are a wimp.” Curly sneers, tucking it behind his back anyway—like Johnny would steal it back from him.

Johnny just rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. Merry Christmas.” He says, following Pony and Darry to the truck. Curly doesn’t reply, watching them from the doorway. He only leaves once they’ve pulled away, heading back inside. They can hear him call to Angela from outside.

They head to Buck Merrill’s next. Darry really does hate going to that bar—especially with Johnny and Pony in tow—but he knows Buck is a good guy. He gave Dallas a place to live for most of his teenage years—and often would help Johnny out after a beating if the gang wasn’t around.

Buck and Darry also have an agreement—made after the fire, of course—that if Johnny, Pony, or Soda ever come knocking at his door… Darry will be

called immediately .

He knows Buck isn’t having a party tonight. He usually keeps it closed around family holidays—he claims it’s because of the lack of business, but Darry knows deep down he doesn’t like seeing people ignore their families to come drink at his bar.

He gathers the rest of the food and helps Johnny and Pony carry it up to the door. He knocks loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the house. He can hear Buck’s rushed footsteps, the door being thrown open a moment later.

“What—“ he begins angrily, pausing when he recognizes them. “Oh. Shit, what’s happening now?” He asks, his shoulders dropping. He spares a quizzical glance at Johnny—as if to ask ‘did you kill someone? again?’.

“Nothing to be worried about.” Darry smiles, holding a plate out to him. “There was a lot left over from dinner—I had a feeling you weren’t cooking anything.”

Buck inspects the plate, giving him an odd look. “Uh huh. No other reason?”

“Just wanted to be nice,” Darry begins, giving him a warm smile. “You’re not all alone in there are you?”

“Nawh—My brother’s home.” Buck shrugs. He has a younger brother—only a few years younger than him, Darry’s age. Most of the time he’s out of state—Dallas is the only one who’s ever met him in person, Johnny and Two-Bit have been in the bar while he was… but that’s just about it. “Sure he won’t mind some grub.”

“Good. Merry Christmas, Merril.”

Buck makes an odd face—like how dare Darry say that to him, before groaning. “Give me a second, wait here.” He grumbles, heading back into the bar and shutting the door behind him. By the time he’s back, Johnny and Pony have retreated back to the truck for warmth.

Buck comes back out with a pretty expensive looking bottle of Heineken, handing it off before the two younger boys see. “Nobody here’s gonna be able to afford it anyway.” He says simply, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you. I’m sure the guys will finish this by the end of the night.”

“I’m counting on it.” Buck chuckles. “Oh, and tell Dallas that he left his lighter here. Some broads found it on the floor.” He says, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to him. Darry promises he will and says his goodbyes, Buck just grunts in agreement and shuts the door.

“Darry.” Ponyboy comments when he starts up the truck again. “Are we going to have to put those pajamas on when we get home?“

Darry chuckles. “Of course. It would be unfair if you didn’t.” He says, already picturing the scene of all his boys dolled up like a mall-ad family. “I don’t even mind anymore, at least it’ll be warm.” Johnny mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and wincing just enough to be heard.

The doctor had warned them about this time of year for his scars. Apparently, extreme cold can trigger some kind of nerve pain—it also causes the skin to dry up and crack. Luckily it’s not as bad as it was two years ago, but it will no-doubt hurt for at least a few more years. Not to mention that Johnny already got cold easy before the fire—now it’s bad enough to classify him as hypothermic.

“There should be a few extra blankets in the living room if you need them.” Darry comments idly, trying to focus on the icy road. “Not like Dallas will let you be cold for long anyway.”

Johnny and Ponyboy both giggling in the backseat. As years go on Dallas seems to get less and less scary—the fire turned him so soft that he was almost a different person. It took months for him to stop using kid-gloves around Johnny and Pony.

“We’re home.” Darry says, turning the key and cutting off the car. Both boys run inside immediately, teeth chattering loud enough to sound like tap shoes.

Darry comes inside to already see Dallas worrying over Johnny. “Christ Darry, did you even turn the heat on?” He asks grumpily, checking Johnny's arms to make sure the skin wasn’t cracked bad enough to bleed. Of course it wasn’t, but this was the only thing Dally would ever double check.

“I’m alright Dal.” Johnny says in place of Darry’s retort. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

Darry suddenly remembers the pajamas. Glancing around the room, all of the boys had listened to him. Even Steve and Dallas—Soda was still keeled over laughing.

Johnny and Ponyboy emerge a few moments later dressed as well—Ponyboy’s got his arms crossed and he is very clearly not happy with this outcome.

“You guys are making my Christmas this year, I swear.” Darry smiles—he’d pinch their cheeks if they’d let him. Eh, he’ll probably do it anyway. Darry gets changed quickly—he’s sure that if he waits any longer they won’t let him get photo evidence.

He runs out with his camera in tow, the boys ass grown when they see it. “We didn’t agree to this!” Steve frowns, watching him set it up on the mantle. “I know, I specifically didn’t tell you so you couldn’t say no.” Darry shrugs, fixing the angle one or twice.

He turns the countdown on and quickly gets behind the group. “Smile!” He says, knowing they won’t. The camera flashes and he’s so excited that he’s already rushing back to it.

To their credit, everyone but Steve, Dallas, and Pony are smiling— Soda’s is more of a smolder, because even in family photos he has to be the best looking. “Look at us! Not a single one of us had our eyes closed!” Two-But chuckles, joining the group around Darry to look at it.

They truly were an adorable family. Darry was already planning on printing this photo and the one Two-Bit had taken a hundred times and placing it on every fridge, work locker, and wallet he could find. “If that ever gets to the public, I’m taking care of all witnesses.” Dallas grumbles. “I’ll be your alibi.” Steve adds, unable to look at it any longer.

“Everybody quit your whining! It's a nice photo!” Darry says defensively, setting the camera aside before anyone could try and delete it. “Yeah, Just pretend its not you in the picture. Thats what I’m gonna do.”

“How's that gonna work?” Steve raises a brow annoyedly—unable to hide his genuine annoyance with the boy for a full holiday. “I could have another brother somewhere—I could be a twin.”

“I’d feel bad for that kid.” Steve chuckles, ignoring the empty box that Ponyboy chucks—and misses—at his head.

“Boys, stop fighting or Santa will give you coal for Christmas.” Two-Bit says teasingly, wagging his finger at them. Steve and Pony both groan.

“I don’t get what's wrong with getting coal for Christmas—I can’t even count how many times I was building a fire and prayed for that stuff.” Johnny mutters, shrugging. He glances up to see the whole gang staring at him with very heartbroken looks on their faces. “Dude, That's like… the saddest thing that's ever come out of your mouth.” Soda says—he almost looks like he's gonna cry–dramatically wrapping his arms around him and sighing.

“No—It's not the time to be sad!” Two-Bit exclaims, crossing his arms with a proud look on his face. “Besides, I am very sure I saw Darrel walk in with some booze in hand. Am I right?” He turns to Darrel. He can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yes, Keith. There is a bottle in the kitchen.”

Everyone but Johnny and Pony rush off to go find it. Darrel can hear the cork pop out from the living room—he's sure this won’t end well. “It’s about time you two get to bed anyway.” Darry sighs, looking at the two younger boys.

“What?” Ponyboy frowns. “I’m almost a grown man and you’re giving me a bedtime?!” He asks, exasperated. “Sixteen is almost grown for you?” Darry retorts, unimpressed, raising a brow. Ponyboy opens his mouth and shuts its again, looking at Johnny for support. “I dunno’ what you’re looking at me for.” Johnny laughs. “When I was sixteen I was actively freeloading off of you guys.”

“You only stopped being sixteen like seven months ago.” Ponyboy mutters, rolling his eyes. “And you weren’t ‘freeloading’ you were recovering from third degree burns.”

“Tomato tah-mah-toe.” Johnny shrugs, already making his way towards Pony’s room. “Now come on, If we don’t go to bed now Santa might not come.” He adds teasingly. “Whose side are you on?” Ponyboy mutters with a betrayed look on his face—he eventually does begin to follow him to his room, trying to hide his own yawn.

“We can get you a cup of warm milk if you want.” Dallas calls from the kitchen, drinking right out of the bottle.

“Oh, Fuck off Dallas!” Ponyboy yells back, turning to glare at him.

“Watch your mouth Pony.” Darry scolds immediately—profanity has never been a big issue for him, but ever since he took over he’d been unable to stop. “You aren’t quite old enough to get away with that.”

“Yeah Yeah.” Pony groans, sticking his head out of his room. “Goodnight friends and family…Steve too, I guess.” He says, shutting the door before Steve can defend himself. Darrel can hear the man yell something in response, muffled by the noise of the rest of the gang laughing.

By the time Darrel makes it into the kitchen, the bottle is already half-way gone. “Jesus, You guys have had enough.” Darry says, aiming to take the bottle and fumbling when Two-Bit snatches it away. “You haven’t had enough if you’re noticing!” He chuckles loudly. “Come on, join us.” He says, waving the bottle around like it's a prize.

Darry rolls his eyes, making another attempt to take it and only getting embarrassed again when he misses.

“Come on big guy, take a sip.” He says again like he's trying to entice him. “You know you want to.” The three others quietly cheer him on, pumping their fists up and down along with their chants. Darry’s never been peer pressured successfully—it works even less when he’s around a group that he mostly thinks of as his younger brothers. But either way he finds himself snatching the bottle and guzzling a decent amount.

It's almost midnight when they decide they’ve had enough. Steve and Soda are the first to go—they both head into Soda’s bedroom, saying their goodnights and such. Dallas goes not long after, aiming to crash on the couch. Darry gives him a goodnight hug and forehead kiss as he goes—to which he gets shoved off by a red-faced blonde.

Two-Bit and Darry retreat to his room only ten minutes later. Darry tells him to get comfortable—he doesn’t know if its because he’s feeling extra loving or because he’s a little tipsy, but he decides he can’t go to bed without giving Johnny and Pony a proper good night.

He’s able to get the bedroom door open without either of them stirring. Despite their earlier protest–Both Johnny and Pony are passed out under the covers. Johnny’s got his head on Pony’s chest and it's a miracle he's not suffocating with the cover’s mostly over his face—upon further inspection the two are completely cuddled up together and snoring just loud enough to hear.

Darry stalks to Ponyboy’s side of the bed and leans down— placing a soft kiss right on his hairline. “Goodnight Pone.” He whispers, though he’s a hundred percent sure the boy won’t hear him.

Sure enough, right as he’s leaning over to do the same to Johnny—Ponyboy stirs. “You smell like booze.” Ponyboy whispers, eyes barely able to stay open for more than a second. “Two spilled some on me.” Darry whispers back—quickly giving Johnny his goodnight and standing straight again.

Ponyboy laughs—his voice is slurred from his own tired state, Darry can’t help but think how adorable it is. “Make sure you gimme a copy of that photo.” Ponyboy whispers, wrapping his arms around his friend and snuggling closer, eyes already shut again. “Will do, Goodnight baby.” Darry whispers with a chuckle—he's able to make it to the door without either of the boy’s re-awakening.

“Did you have fun today?” Two-Bit asks as he climbs into bed a moment later. “Very much so.” Darry smiles, placing a kiss on his cheek and getting comfortable under the covers. “Good,” Two whispers, wrapping his arms around the older. “You deserve a good day every once in a while.”

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road by Iain Banks

I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.

As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.

So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.

This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].

Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.

The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.

There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.

Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.

The Crow Road's story is like this:

Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.

Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."

Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.

Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.

Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.

Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.

With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."

As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.

Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.

Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.

Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.

As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.

The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.

What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?

Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.

It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.

The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.

After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.

At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.

My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.

Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.

But what about the sex scene?!

Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.

I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.

Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?

Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.

The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:

The importance of mortal life on Earth

Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being

Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose

Relationships as reflections of philosophy

The dual nature of humanity

Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.

Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.

I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."

Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.

The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.

I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:

Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road

[faeruy]

Tarot Time - Agatha All Along, Episode 7 - "Death's Hand in Mine" Part 1

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS EPISODE. There's so much to talk about with regards to the Tarot used in this episode. I had to take a couple of days and watch it a couple of times to catch everything. First off, all of the kudos to the writers - their use of tarot is inspired, the way they connected it throughout the show was BRILLIANT, and I honestly didn't see the reveal that Lilia was seeing her final reading coming. I am legitimately in awe of these writers.

So lets talk about it, as this is mostly going to be me trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. As always, I'm an amateur, so I may get things wrong. I'm also splitting this up into two parts because there's A LOT. First part is Lilia's Reading, the Second part is going to be all of the other cards drawn in the episode.

First up; Lilia's True Reading. I'm starting with this one because I've already talked about a number of the cards and what they mean, although even they take on some new aspects now that they are revealed to be part of the final draw. If you haven't read my earlier posts, there's links at the bottom of this one. This is also going to be tough for me, because while I have a decent familiarity with what each card symbolizes, I've never been particularly strong when it comes to layouts, and how to take in the cards as a whole reading instead of individual pieces. But also, someone can correct me if I'm wrong, "Safe Passage" is a layout that - while visually is based on the Celtic Cross - is made up for the show.

The Traveler is The Queen of Cups - Lilia. She described this card in the show - Full of intuition, but also calm, compassionate and nurturing. Warm hearted in tune with those around her - though in this case not consciously, since earlier callouts of the cards were done involuntarily and out of time. She has some aspects of a Reversed reading; her gaps and out-of-time phasings indicate a bit of emotional insecurity, and by her own admission she's bottled things up so she doesn't have to deal with the pain of seeing the future. But the Upright has been stronger with her by far. The fact that she put a sigil on Billy to give him time to come to terms with who he is speaks volumes about her compassion. It's a card that fits her to a T. I also love the modified card - for the most part, they're using a bog-standard Rider-Waite Deck, but most of the cards are in this drawing are modified. The Queen is usually depicted sitting in a throne, but this deck has her in front of a table - ready to divine and interpret and intuit. Less above her people than the normal card, and more of an equal.

What's Missing - Three of Pentacles - The Coven. I talked in depth about this one before. The only thing that changed is who the reading is for - in the first episode it showed up, the reading was for Agatha. But she wasn't the only one who lost her original coven, Lilia lost hers too. She needed them as much as Agatha did; after all, what is a witch without her coven? And as much as they bicker and lack trust in each other, they have become what they've been missing. This card is modified by making the figures standing in a group look like the Coven - Lilia, Agatha, Jen, Billy, Alice, and yes, even Rio. Oddly enough, not Sharon, suggesting either a) the art department didn't have enough room to fit her in, b)she was never a true witch, therefore not part of the Coven, or c) she was close enough to death even before the Road that Rio was essentially following her - metaphorically.

Path Behind - Knight of Wands - Alice. I talked a lot about this card in episode 5, and I don't know that there's a lot to add here. Lilia goes for the simple definition; a knight full of fire and energy. She leaves out the impulsiveness, but probably has to do with sentimentality and choosing to remembering her heroism. Path behind is obvious; her death was significant, and affected the Coven strongly. Since this is Lilia's reading, I think Alice's death is maybe the catalyst for her to start really confronting her own mortality, and her own Path. Again, the card is modified, depicting a knight holding a staff (interchangeable name for Wands) in the same stance Alice was using to save Agatha. Normally it's a knight on a reared-up horse, with the staff held upright. Both versions of the card indicate a very aggressive, action-oriented person, which Alice very much is.

Path Ahead - The High Priestess - Jen. This one is making me FERAL. So the card here is barely modified - the only difference is the High Priestess looks like Jen. And I've talked about what that means in the first post I made about tarot in this show. What it means HERE, however, is super interesting. First of all, Lilia uses the phrase "unwilling or unable to use it" which specifically refers to a Reversed reading, even though the card itself was drawn Upright. And we know that while Jen succeeded in her Trial, all it really did was help her feel confident in her knowledge of the craft; her origins as a root-worker. It didn't remove her bindings. So in some ways, she's not yet the High Priestess Upright, But given that this is the Path Ahead, I think it means she will be. But what does it mean that she is the Path Ahead? I have a guess, but stick with me here. First of all, The High Priestess is the master of the unconscious and spirituality. Secondly, the Path Ahead is for the Traveler, meaning it's specifically LILIA'S Path Ahead. Also, There's a line in the Ballad about "Spirits as our Guide." So my guess, is at some point, Jen is going to be unblocked, and when she is, she's gonna call on the spirits of those who died on the Road - including Lilia. There's a reason Lilia was okay making the sacrifice she did, and why she was so insistent on Jen specifically getting out of there. I could be wrong, but I think the signs are there, and I cannot wait to see if I'm right.

Obstacles - Three of Swords - Agatha. Interesting, this one probably has several implications. Three of Swords represents heartache and grief. For Lilia specifically, one of her biggest obstacles has been her grief over seeing everyone she knows and loves die well before they do, and being unable to stop it. It's stopped her from using her power to it's full potential and kept her from connecting with and caring about people. She's needed to let that go, accept that Death comes for everyone, and that her visions having meaning and purpose, even if she can't change them. The card is mostly the same, they've just put a figure in the foreground that doesn't normally exist, aka Agatha. So it also kind of implies that Agatha, specifically Agatha's own heartache, has also been a giant obstacle to Lilia, and probably the coven as a whole - continuing the theme that actually, Agatha is her own worst enemy, which tracks.

Windfall - Tower Reversed - William/Billy/Teen. I've already talked about how this relates to Billy, but this reading is for Lilia. So the personal transformation is HERS. Violent and disruptive, but she'll become something new. What will she become? A spirit, maybe? Something else, something more? Or is it that in her final moments, she becomes the strongest, most complete version of herself? I'm inclined towards something beyond - she looks almost ecstatic when she draws it, and tied together with her Path Ahead being The High Priestess, I think she realizes while she may die, she's not done, and she's gonna be GLORIOUS. The card here isn't significantly modified, I believe it might be, but it was so quick I couldn't catch exactly how.

Destination - Death - Rio. And we get the (highly telegraphed) reveal that Rio is Death. Normally the card is Black Knight on a White Horse, but here it's just Rio in Grim Reaper guise. Makes sense, given that in this universe she predates Tarot, so in this deck, the card is based on her. Reading superficially, it's just that all roads lead to Death. But the card is more complicated than that and Lilia knows it. Because the Death card isn't just about physical death. It's about embracing the endings and accepting fate so that something new can begin. The personal transformation promised as the Windfall cannot happen unless one is willing to let the old self end. And Rio is the original Green Witch. A flower cannot grow without nutrients, and soil is enriched by what dies in it. So Lilia knows at this point she has to die. But it's okay now, because it's not an end, it's a new beginning. And I'm crying as I'm writing this. And I think the writers were SO CLEVER that the last shot we see of Lilia is of her as young girl, with her mentor saying "Let's Begin".

I think overall the writers have been very good with their use of tarot, and their layout is very cool. I also think it's very smart that they've associated certain cards with certain witches, and that the words Lilia was using in association with the cards were their basic definitions only. It makes sense; we're talking about a visual medium, and the way she did it was punchier, and more dynamic than doing an in depth interpretation of the cards. But what it didn't do was give us the reading as a whole, and almost tricked the audience into forgetting or dismissing the idea that the reading was for Lilia alone instead of the coven, and that the cards are working together to paint a fuller picture. But this episode has also shown that somebody on the writing staff knows their tarot, or at the very least did a lot of research. And I think there's a deeper interpretation to be had; Lilia's died, but she is not done.

I'm so excited for the last two episodes. I don't know if we'll see more cards after this, but I'm not ruling it out as a possibility. I also have the rest of the cards that were drawn this episode, which I'll go into in Part 2 of this (maybe 3, who knows, there were a LOT of cards). It should be up soon, but I need a bit of a break after writing this one. hope you all enjoyed it!

Here's the Links to Past Episodes

Episode 1-3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6 Episode 7 Part 2