#somebody buy me an ice cream

[starcry2903]

Helppp elijah stole my ice cream :(

(at least he's happy though)

i'm so bored arghhh

[victorluvsalice]

-->And Roxana did, going straight for a $3 cone of ice cream! Which, to my surprise and delight, prompted Smiler to gain a special Confident moodlet about selling ice cream on an extremely hot day, “The Coolest Vendor In Town!” XD Plus a separate moodlet for selling excellent-quality food. :) And, as usual, once one Sim had bought something, all the others in the area were eager to check things out! Notable sales included:

I. A guy named Asa trying out the mushroom waffles

II. Someone named Finley also going for a cone of chocolate ice cream

III. Roxana coming back for something more filling and also trying the mushroom waffles

IV. A guy named Mitchell taking a chance on the seafood pizza

V. Someone named Desmond deciding to go for a BOWL of ice cream, because why settle for a cone

VI. Don Lothario showing up and being convinced to buy a slice of Curious Pizza because I thought it was funny

VII. And my very first Sim ever made, Geeker McTest (in this save file a minor celebrity), showing up and also grabbing a bowl of ice cream. :)

Not bad at all, huh? The day’s profits weren’t amazing – $233 for five ice creams, four waffles, one slice of seafood pizza, and one slice of Curious pizza – but the gang doesn’t need the money, they just do this so people have good things to eat that they might not be able to get in their home worlds. :) Plus it’s just fun!

-->Ah, but what were Victor and Alice doing while Smiler was getting their sale on? Well, Victor ended up helping Alice with the ribs (by standing around and chatting with her, because he couldn’t do much else), then they each had a plate (chowing down with Roxana as she enjoyed her waffles) before heading over to the chess tables to play a game! As they both had a want to do so, you see. They spent their time chatting and flirting while Smiler worked the crowd, with Alice ultimately winning the match. All that time spent in Looking-Glass Land must have really made her a chess queen! (Literally – she does indeed get a fancy crown and everything at the end of that book. XD)

-->Once the food sale was over, it was time to start taking care of everyone's needs! Smiler, who was thirsty, went over and chatted with Roxana, learning a bit more about her (“she/her” pronouns, dislikes pop music and fitness) before convincing her to let them have a drink, while Victor and Alice, meanwhile, both used the toilet (with Victor nearly getting walked in on by KATRINA! Caliente – decorum, woman!). Alice then had a brief cloudgaze while Victor went around the side of the building to privately practice Untamed Magic, getting the “Necrocall” spell (which lets you summon ghosts from their gravestones) in the process (and a cute little message from Darkwing saying “New spells are fun!” :) ). I then tried to have Alice and Victor build a sand sculpture together to wrap up the day...

Only for Victor to just stand around supervising while Alice and SMILER ended up building a sand cowplant out the front of the park. O.o Well, I guess that’s one way for them all to participate? It was starting to get a little late, though, and I didn’t want the food in Smiler’s inventory to go bad...

[justforficsjules]

Hi lovelies, I’m afraid this weeks chapter of The Tale of The Witch and The Paladin is gonna be postponed, the holidays were kinda crazy and our flight was canceled. So… double chapters next week! That’s right, y’all are getting spoiled as an apology. If I’m smart I’ll build up a buffer while I’m writing too so this doesn’t happen again. Who am I kidding, that’s probably not gonna happen. Send me a cheese during this trying time pls.

[luvtak]

when you know, you know ✭ yji

✭ genre/tw sugary sweet fluff, est. relationship, innie being very sweet, innie and reader being so in love its sick, ‘tiny’ used as a petname, like one swear word ? mostly unedited

✭ w/c 1005

✭ a/n i wrote this in about 5 hours so it could be so bad, who knows :// also, i was listening to the most sickeningly soft love songs so this is where all my devastation went… i hope you love it!! (divider from @cafekitsune !!)

There's something about the morning air that makes you look like an angel: Flushed cheeks and bitten-red lips, your hair still mussed from his hands. He can’t stop himself from staring at you, eyes sweeping to your form huddled in the corner of the practice room. You didn’t want to be here, adamantly refusing when he woke you up this morning, only agreeing when he told you he’d buy you ice cream for breakfast–a deal that left him exasperated until he tasted the sugary treat from your lips. He was reminded why he loved you then… it was the way the sun glinted off your cheekbones, warm light encasing you in a glow that hit him right in the heart. 

When you arrived at practice, greeting all the boys with tight hugs and uncontained grins, the lovesickness started rising up in his throat, and Jeongin did all he could not to embarrass himself in front of his hyungs. He never thought he’d be this gone, so incredibly smitten for somebody, alas the picture you form in his life is endlessly heart breaking.

“You know, in the last ten minutes Innie has looked over here probably five times…” Laughs Seugmin from his place next to you. 

“I did notice that, yes.” you respond. In truth, there hasn’t been one moment of your relationship where you haven’t noticed when Jeongin looks at you. Something about his stare being so hot against your skin that even with your eyes closed you would know he was looking. 

It makes you shy to think about Seungmin noticing your boyfriend’s devotion– your love is so often a secret, a whisper in the dark, a kiss shared with the light off. A love so intimate that it’s often masked with jokes and incessant teasing, anything to make it seem less than it is. When someone is your whole world, when you could survive just off the air in their lungs, that love is too great to be shared. 

Although, you can’t blame Seungmin for noticing. Your boyfriend has looked at you an inane amount of times in the last hour, glimpsing and glaring at you while he should be focused on the choreo. You could count on both hands how many times he’s been yelled at for messing up a step, even now during their break, with Minho berating him, he’s staring at you. 

“See! look at that! What a love drunk dummy, Minho Hyung is gonna kill him.” You can only half hear Seungmin, your eyes stuck on Jeongin’s smile, so pretty and all yours. You didn’t want to be here this morning, having plans to laze around the house in nothing but his sweater and watch stupid tv until he got home, but he begged and begged you to join him; cuddling into you and kissing all over your face until you agreed to come. The ice cream he bought you was only the icing on the cake, as sweet as all the kisses he placed on your skin. How happy you are now that you’re here, getting to see your boy smile and laugh and stare. “Oh god, there you go… you’d think you two would be over each other by now.” 

Unfortunately, the boy is left unanswered as Jeongin finds himself walking towards you, shit eating grin on full display, love in his eyes and mischief on his tongue. He’s so desirable, so undeniably handsome that it kills you to have other people around. 

“Hey loser,” your boyfriend says, “wanna go get a snack?”

“Will that snack be another ice cream cone? Cause if so count me in.” 

“Whatever you want, tiny.” he smiles, grabbing your hand to pull you off the floor and out of the room. Arms holding you tight through the hallways of the company, yet before you can go too far, he’s pulling you into an empty room and pressing his skin to yours. 

It’s not a hug really, his arms aren’t wrapped around you, but he’s so close to you. His nose is settled in your hair and his hands are so warm around your wrists, and even with your eyes closed you know his eyes are settled on you. He’s looking everywhere, from your sneakers to his sweater that wraps around you. Jeongin thinks you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen, and if he was braver he would’ve kissed you in the practice room. He would’ve touched you where the light hit, breathed in your air before stealing the words from your lips. If he was braver he would take the teasing from the other boys, if he was braver he would share his love with the whole world… but it’s so safe like this. 

The planet goes silent when he’s alone with you, the only thing on his mind your strawberry kisses. 

“You’re so pretty, tiny.” he whispers, his hands coming around your waist to clutch at you, holding on to you like he’ll never get the chance again. 

“You’re prettier, Innie, like a daydream.” In any other situation, your words would bring a scowl to his face, but here all alone in this empty room, he can’t help but smile. How lovesick can he be that he doesn’t find your silly confessions corny anymore? 

He can’t wait another moment without kissing you, without feeling your life bleed into his. In seconds he’s decided, and without hesitation he’s settling his rosebud lips against yours. The kiss is slow, a profession of everything he won’t let himself say out loud: He loves you, you’re perfect, you’re all he’s ever wanted. He kisses you in place of words that won’t come, his palms encasing your face so delicately, a caress that's been perfected. 

After a lifetime he pulls away, leaving you with goosebumps and shaky vision, you understood what he was saying. Heard every word he put into the kiss, felt every feeling he needed you to feel. 

He may not be able to love you in more than a whisper, but it’s the prettiest lullaby you’ve ever heard. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[disneyprincemuke]

how you get the girl * fem!driver

and when logan comes in with a girl on his arm, then what?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hi it was only a kiss was the beginning of the end for my locky soldiers i fear and here u go lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“did you see?”

she tilts her head, turning around with her eyebrows furrowed. liam has walked around the barrier of their garages, sauntering in with his hands behind his back. “seen what?”

liam blinks at her. he purses his lips and shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “nothing.”

“what do you mean?” she laughs, putting her ipad down. “was i supposed to see something? why are you being weird?”

“i think he means logan and his girlfriend walking into the paddocks together.”

just like that, she can almost hear the glass around her shattering. there’s a ringing in her ears and she turns to sebastian with wide eyes and puffy cheeks. “what?”

sebastian blinks at her, his clipboard of data in his hands. “you didn’t know? don’t you guys live together?”

she blinks rapidly, trying to come up with an excuse. truthfully, only 2 people ever found out about the events of new year’s day. one of those was by default, logan’s brother, and she’d pulled liam aside during their team trip to new york to confess and vent about the events of her stay in miami.

liam’s been sworn to the highest level of secrecy, and she’s appreciated the fact that he’s kept his word. he never brings it up unless she does it first.

which isn’t a lot.

“we uh,” she drops her head and turns back to her ipad as she sucks in a deep breath, “we’ve been kinda busy lately. i didn’t know he was seeing somebody now. i was in los angeles for a while during the break.”

“that’s,” sebastian trails off, “odd. is it still weird after what happened in montreal? i thought everything was okay.”

she looks up. “it is! everything is okay! we’ve just been super busy,” she rambles, “you know… i’ve flown around for d&g and a couple of fenty events. haven’t really had the time to sit down and have a chat recently.”

sebastian hums, unsure if he’s fully buying her excuse yet. “i see. have you guys not gone to get ice cream lately?”

she shrugs and points at liam, “our schedules never really line up. sometimes logan is there, but not often. even then, there’s always something more important to talk about than our dating lives.”

liam finally clears his throat, making her eyes snap over to him. “let’s go? we’ve got an interview in a couple of minutes.”

she grins, turning to sebastian. she gives him a quick hug and hangs her head low before she follows liam back into the paddocks. “seriously? i didn’t know logan had a new girlfriend.”

“have you seriously not seen each other that you didn’t know about his new girlfriend?” liam whispers, looking around cautiously to ensure that nobody’s got the chance to eavesdrop on their conversation. he takes a step forward towards her and drops his head. “how do you feel?”

she pouts her bottom lip out with a shrug. “good for him, i guess.”

there’s no way that’s the only thing she has to say, right? “really? you’re okay with this?”

her eyes trail off to the crowd surrounding them, as if to really think over her answer, then turns back to him. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

“you’re totally over the fact that you kissed on new year’s?”

“liam,” she scolds through gritted teeth, smacking his arm lightly. “you were sworn to secrecy.”

“i haven’t told anyone,” he throws his arms into the air, “but are you seriously okay with this? it’s just me — you can tell me if it bothers you.”

she tilts her head with a small grin. it’s endearing how liam is double-checking. but it’s been 7 months since they kissed. she’s kind of well over the fact by now. “i’m really okay. i’ve just been super busy. i flew in from los angeles right before touching down here. we haven’t really crossed paths in the apartment lately.”

liam pats her on the shoulder. “okay. but you can tell me anything, okay? don’t keep it in, mate.”

she smiles, “promise.”

max lifts his eyebrows, following the pair that’s just walked past him nonchalantly. his lips part in confusion as he then furrows his eyebrows and turns to the girl now approaching him. “was that logan holding hands with a girl?”

she follows his stare, tilting her head slightly. “yeah. i heard he brought his girlfriend to the race today.”

“you heard?” max scowls. “you didn’t know he had a girlfriend? aren’t you best friends who live together?”

she shrugs, “we haven’t seen each other a ton lately. we’ve been busy in our own right.” she puffs her cheeks out. “why is everyone so baffled that i didn’t know he has a girlfriend? he is a grown man!”

max puts his hands in the air as a small smile stretches his lips. “mate, relax. i was just curious. cause i thought you guys liked each other?”

“that’s crazy. where did you get that from?” she almost wants to laugh if it weren’t for the fact that max hit the jackpot with that guess. she only hoped that her wide eyes and racing heart didn’t give too much away. “he’s my best friend. with a girlfriend or not.”

max gives her a stare, one that tells her that he definitely isn’t buying her bullshit excuse. he lifts an eyebrow at her and sighs audibly. “really? you’re going to keep lying about you guys just being friends?”

she rolls her eyes. “your late-night gaming is taking a toll on you, i believe. you’re seeing things that aren’t there, max.”

“sure,” he snorts. “everyone can tell, by the way. alex, george… we know.”

she tilts her head and bats her eyelashes at him innocently. “i don’t seem to know what you mean.”

“that you and logan, at some point or another, liked each other,” max explains. “it’s only so obvious. mark my words, andretti racing driver, you guys are going to end up together someday be it in the near future or even it takes you years to figure things out.”

“you belong in a mental hospital.”

“rocky!” she feels a hand around her elbow pulling her back immediately, stumbling back a couple of steps with a soft yelp before she feels a hand on her back that steadies her. she knows that hand.

“why did you have to yank me like i’m an animal?” she whines, shaking away logan’s grip on her. “what do you want? i have a team meeting i’m gonna be late for.”

“i want you to meet somebody,” logan grins, stepping aside hesitantly. “ylona — my girlfriend.”

she tilts her head and into focus comes a slightly smaller girl compared to logan. slightly taller than her, tanned skin and the prettiest brown eyes she thinks she’s ever seen. ylona has her hands clasped in front of her shyly with a small and polite smile.

“oh, hi!” she squeals as her arm immediately darts out towards the girl. “i’m so sorry i just only got the chance to meet you now. i’ve been so busy — i’ve been out of the country lately.”

“yeah, i,” ylona laughs sheepishly and takes her hand, “i love your apartment, by the way. there’s no way you’re not an interior designer or something.”

she scrunches her nose. now, how is she supposed to hate someone as soft-spoken and lovely as ylona? she takes a deep breath, subtly looking ylona up and down. she’s just so pretty. “my younger sister actually helped with the apartment. i’d love to hang out with you after the day ends if you guys are joining us for ice cream?”

logan nods, his stare lingering on her in a way that she’s unsure what he’s trying to say to her. “of course. i’m not missing another ice cream night again in my life.”

“good!” she grins, patting his shoulder. “i’ll see you guys around. i’ve got to run.”

“who the hell is that!” alex barges into her room, george following suit as she takes sips from the drink in his hand. “when did logan get a girlfriend?”

she looks up from her phone, baffled at the comfortability that the older drivers have found in her hospitality home. especially her driver’s room. “you know, just because sebastian gives you guys immunity in the andretti hospitality doesn’t mean you should take advantage of it.”

“who is that girl? how did they even meet?”

george points at her beanbag, looking at her innocently as if to ask for permission. she nods and beckons him towards it before turning to alex. “i don’t know. i only just met her today.”

“like it’s so– what? you just met her today?”

“you also just met her today?” george pouts his bottom lip out, unsure if he should be concerned or impressed at logan’s success in hiding a secret from her. “how weird.”

“it’s seriously not that weird! we’re adults with our own lives!” she scoffs, returning her attention to her phone. “she seems lovely if you ask me. very pretty, very polite.”

she’s just opened her phone to send a message when it disappears abruptly, alex taking it into his hands and slipping it into his back pocket. “you’ve got to tell us more. there is no way you found out today like the rest of us peasants.”

she shrugs with a soft laugh. “i really have got no idea when or how they met. i’ve barely hung out with logan since we were in barcelona for the spanish gp. i’ve been frequenting los angeles a lot recently.”

“what are you doing in america instead of oxford with your family?” george scowls. “the fame’s gotten to you, mate.”

she rolls her eyes. “i’ve got sponsorships i need to show up for. seriously, it’s not that serious. logan’s 23 — let him have his girlfriend.”

“she is very quiet too, actually,” alex hums, dropping himself on the bean bag, and squeezing in with george, who scowls and pushes him away slightly to regain his space. “i don’t know. do i like her?”

george furrows his eyebrows. “logan isn’t your best friend. why are you speaking like that about his girlfriend?”

“hey, she’s going to be in the garage for a while. i have to make sure it’s an environment that i feel comfortable in.” alex looks to her for some support. “you get what i mean, right?”

she shrugs. “i guess you have a point. but you know… you can just ignore her if you don’t like her, alex.”

“it’s not the same though,” alex sighs, dropping his hands in his lap. “promise you’ll tell me when you find out more about her?”

“why don’t you just ask logan yourself?” george asks.

“he keeps running away when he sees me,” alex frowns. “i think it’s because i keep asking him if he likes rocky. i guess it’s not a good look if i keep asking that when his girlfriend is around.”

“you twat, why would you ask him that at all?” she scolds, hurling the small stuffed animal next to her towards alex. “such a stupid question to ask!”

alex catches the stuffed animal and chucks it right back at her. “i’m curious! for the record,” he rolls his eyes, “he avoids that question too!”

“that’s just stirring up the pot when you don’t have to, alex!” she hops off her massage table and runs over to where the 2 men are, arm wound back to hit the thai driver. “you’re so annoying! what is your problem?”

“i was curious!” alex screams to defend himself. “if you hit me, i’m telling james and he’ll never let you into our building to see logan.”

“i won’t have to. he’s got ylona now,” she points out before turning on her heel. “do you guys wanna go grab some coffee?”

“i know, i know,” oscar whispers, “it’s a bit sudden, isn’t it? i can’t believe he didn’t tell us.”

lily nods, leaning on the wall of the mclaren’s racing home as they await their friends so they can leave to get some ice cream. “i can’t believe even rocky didn’t know.”

oscar raises his eyebrows in shock. for him to now know, is one thing, but for logan’s literal roommate to not know of ylona’s existence until today? that’s just weird and even borderline off.

from the corner of his eye, he sees the young driver approaching them, typing away on her phone with a small grin on her face. he furrows his eyebrows and hits her gently on the shoulder as she comes to stop in front of them.

“what?”

“you and logan are being so weird lately,” oscar confesses. “seriously. what happened between both of you in the united states?”

she blinks at him. “nothing. we were just busy.”

“not spending valentine’s day together is one thing. but you didn’t even know about his girlfriend? you usually know everything,” oscar whispers, looking over his shoulder to make sure that logan’s not anywhere close to them. “what’s going on?”

“i’ve just been very caught up with my own things lately,” she laughs, putting a hand on oscar and lily’s shoulder. “relax. nothing happened between us.”

but she swears that there are some nights that she can feel logan’s lips on hers. it drives her crazy, actually. “relax. let’s just get ice cream and get to know her. it doesn’t have to be weird.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[yurinabluu]

🔹2. Honey-comb icecream

synopsis- Break-up of the it couple of the university was surely shocking for everyone but yu jimin didn't care. She knew it was right to do as she was in love with somebody else. Precisely her ex's bestfriend.

[A moment from the past when Ryujin and Jimin were dating]

“Do you like the taste? This place is particularly renowned for it’s ice-cream. I tried the raspberry one with Y/N few months ago and loved it so much. Though Y/N liked the honey-comb more. I had a bite and trust me when I say how bad it was. God knows how she likes it so much.”

Ryujin chuckled lowly and took a bite from her ice-cream.

While Ryujin was busy in talking about something, Jimin couldn’t help but motion her orbs onto the woman who had stolen her heart without even her realizing the moment it happened. She had convinced her broken heart that you did not feel the same about her , which led her to accept Ryujin’s proposal.

She thought this would help her to move on but boy how wrong she was. You were so pretty , so kind and so gentle. How can she ever move on from you?

Jimin was not a fool. She knew about her popularity. She was aware how everyone in the university adored her. Everyone except you she assumed. Nobody knows how many times she had prayed that she was wrong. Maybe you felt something for her. She did not mind if it was friendship or anything less . She just wanted to be near you and admire you for the amazing woman you were.

“I want to try another flavor.”

Ryujin looked up at Jimin before replying,

“Yeah? Tell me the flavor . I’ll go and buy for you.”

“The honey-comb one”

Ryujin looked at Jimin for a second before nodding and head towards the counter. Jimin gave her a small smile before her eyes moved back to you again. However, the smile which was gracing her beautiful face got replaced with a frown when she noticed a girl standing close to you which was more than enough to disrupt Jimin’s whole self.

She hated this feeling. She felt her gut wrench and stomach churn in a way she had never experienced before. It was an unfamiliar painful feeling and Jimin despised it. She never wished to feel like this again.

[Present time]

“Jimmy, are you fine?”

Minjeong asked her , her eyes mirroring the worry in her other two friend’s, Aeri and NingNing eyes.

Jimin’s eyes were fixed on you, particularly on your arm which was being held by Yunjin, the famous cheerleader. Yunjin was one of your admirers except for the fact that she was hell bent to make you hers. Everyone knew of her liking towards you and the efforts she has been putting in since freshman years to please you, which only resulted in earning a polite rejection from you.

Jimin knew you would reject her again like you have been doing since before , not to her but to everyone who’d dared to confess their feelings to you.

But the similar feeling always haunts her every time something like this happened.

“Do you think Y/N will accept Yunjin this time?”

“Maybe. I mean Yunjin has been trying for so long.”

“Really? I don’t think so.”

“Wanna bet?”

Having enough of the chatters, Jimin got up from her seat and left the cafeteria immediately. Jimin was a strong and resilient woman but she was nothing but powerless when it came to you.

Your eyes wandered on the screen in-front you while your hands were busy in jotting down the notes Mr. Lee was displaying. You had an important test coming up soon and needless to say you were lacking behind a lot due to volleyball practices. You loved the sport more than anything else but this test was important and covered an important part of your grade. Not to forget, the project which was going to be announced today held the similar importance. God it was extremely stressful but it something which was needed to be done.

“I just hope my partner will be useful. I cannot do all the work alone.”

You muttered under your breath when you noticed a presence beside you.

“Hey!”

You looked up at the source of voice when you felt your breath stop at the sight. Jimin stood beside you with her laptop and essentials in her hand, adorned in a white sleeve-less tee with a matching sky blue jeans , looking at you with a small smile. You were speechless. You never had a proper conversation with her before. You had no idea on what to say.

“Uhm hey..”

You mumbled nervously before Jimin sat down beside you making you even more surprised. You noticed her putting the materials down on the table gracefully before her eyes met your wide ones again. She let out a small laugh before speaking to you,

“We are partners….. y’know for the project.”

“Oh!”

You were cooked. Undoubtedly. You don’t know about God’s favorite child but you swore you definitely were the least. Before you could speak anything, Mr. Lee’s voice filled the classroom.

“Now that your partners are announced, I need you all to prepare a thorough and detailed presentation on the topic you like. Make sure to counter all the expected areas of the topic you choose along with your partners and discuss each other’s findings daily for at least an hour for a month before concluding it. Strategize your schedule for a month accordingly and remember this project is important for your grade. So better take it seriously.”

You cursed internally thinking about how you were going to survive a month being that close to Jimin. You just hoped that you won’t do anything stupid. Making Jimin uncomfortable was the least thing you ever want to do. And God knows how you were going to explain this to Ryujin. You cannot imagine what was going to happen during this whole month but things will definitely be taking a turn.

For good or for bad… only God knows that.

“So I was saying…” , Jimin looked at you giving you all her attention. You released a breath you did not realize you were holding before speaking,

“Should we exchange numbers?”

Jimin raised a brow at you in surprise which made you even more nervous if it was even possible.

“I mean since we are now partners, sorry project partners and Mr. Lee said we need to discuss our findings daily. So to decide the timings we need to chat and of course we cannot do that without having each other’s number. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It did not mean that. Trust me I am-”

Placing her hand on your shoulder, Jimin gave you a light comforting squeeze while having a teasing smile on her lips.

“I did not know you could get nervous Y/N.”

Jimin spoke making you look away from her with blood rushing in your face, making your ears and cheeks turn red. She laughed looking at your flushed self before handing her phone to you and asking you to hand over yours to her. Jimin returned your phone back to you after saving her number making you do the same.

“Let’s have a good month together Y/N.”

A genuine smile graced your lips mirroring hers before you spoke,

“Sure Jimin.”

_________________________________________

Taglist(open) - @saysirhc , @1luvkarina , @myouiiiiiiii , @nasyu-kookies , @gayforalll , @yuyuy90 , @hooneysugarh , @spidrgamer , @sunshinez4 , @hwm1hyun .

[promptfairy]

❥     𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝟑𝟓𝟖/𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 ( 𝟏.𝟓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐗 )   (   𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑   )    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

change gendered language   &   add context to your needs . happy roleplaying !!  ♡

“   are you really sure that you don’t have a heart ??   ” “   i can give you purpose .   ” “   man ,   i miss the old times .   ” “   bet you don’t know why the sun sets red .   ” “   like i asked ,   know - it - all .   ” “   you worried about the new kid ??   ” “   you said the same exact thing the other day .   ” “   i don’t even know what a heart is .   ” “   i have to keep fighting the darkness .   so i can be whole .   ” “   c’mon ,   let’s get some ice cream .   ” “   i’m gonna be away for a while ,   starting tomorrow .   ” “   i wish somebody told me these things .   ” “   find them ,   &   dispose of them .   ” “   this place is so much nicer without the loudmouths .   ” “   you earned the icing on the cake .   ” “   this is such a great spot   . . .   how’d you find it ??   ” “   we’re not even supposed to   ‘  be  ’   in the first place .   ” “   he looks a lot like you .   ” “   my name is of no importance .   ” “   i hope that you can join me next time .   ” “   what’s the matter ??   you look like you’ve seen a ghost .   ” “   you had me worried .   ” “   i guess i just needed a little time to sort out my feelings ,   you know ??   ” “   what ,   not even   one little word   of appreciation ??    ” “   good to see you made it back safe .   ” “   i moved things along just the way you wanted .   ” “   he must’ve rubbed off on me .   ” “   friends need to lean on each other every now   &   then .   ” “   just eat your ice cream .   ” “   best friends are different from plain friends ,   right ??   ” “   let us remember why we are here   &   what we hope to achieve .   ” “   all this fighting   . . .   i wonder what it’s for .   ” “   i just don’t see why having a heart is that important .   ” “   i think i’ve always been pretty much the same .   ” “   i wonder what kind of guy i was before   . . .   ” “   i thought you said you were tough .   ” “   buy me one   &   we’ll call it even .   ” “   i hope we can always be just like this forever .   ” “   well   . . .   nothing lasts forever ,   you know ??   ” “   wow ,   that was   so   not you .   ” “   ever heard of knocking ??   what do you want   ??   ” “   i can handle all the dirty work .   ” “   i knew you’d be here .   ” “   i hope we get another vacation soon .   ” “   i’m not going to tell you   all   my dark secrets .   ” “   you’re letting yourself get too attached .   ” “   you know   . . .   you’ve changed .   ” “   just give me another chance .   ”

“   you were a mistake i never should have made .   ” “   is there anything you couldn’t bear to lose ??   ” “   it’s scary to think of what it would be like without you .   ” “   you can’t fight fire with sparks .   ” “   find a new crowd .   trust me ,   those guys are bad news .   ” “   sorry   . . .   my mind’s on other things .   ” “   do you ever think about why we’re doing all of this ??   ” “   just be straight with me for once ,   will you ??   ” “   did you bring me these seashells ??   ” “   keep your mouth shut .   ” “   does the past mean nothing to you ??   ” “   don’t scare me like that anymore .   ” “   maybe you’re not completely well yet .   ” “   it almost sounds as though you know .   ” “   who am i ??   what am i here for ??   ” “   you made me a promise .   ” “   i’m sorry   . . .   i’m not sure i’ve kept my promise very well .   ” “   am i not supposed to exist ??   ” “   what would it take for me to be like you ??   ” “   to be honest ,   i’m not even sure today really happened .   ” “   since when do you ever worry about me ??   ” “   it’s just not the same without all three of us .   ” “   i’m nothing more than a puppet .   ” “   do you hate me for taking your friend away from you ??   ” “   how will i know where i belong ,   truly ??   ” “   the answer you come up with can’t just be right for   you .   ” “   well ,   we’ve had our share of drama lately .   ” “   i know we’ve seen a lot of sunsets ,   but today’s puts them all to shame .   ” “   if we ran ,   i bet we could always be together .   ” “   i think you know what needs to be done .   ” “   stop pretending .   ” “   why is it that you always have to glare at me like that ??   ” “   i’m asking you   why   you did that ,   &   you know it .   ” “   you’re not making any sense .   ” “   if only the whispers at the top carried to the bottom .   ” “   can you at least try not to harm her ??   ” “   could it be that you’ve known this whole time   &   not told me anything ??   ” “   i’ve been searching for a way to conquer the darkness within me .   ” “   you don’t have to worry about me .   ” “   best friends are supposed to be   honest   with each other !!   ” “   finding out the truth doesn’t always work out for the best .   ” “   if i can’t get answers here ,   i’ll get them somewhere else .   ” “   no one would miss me .   ” “   everybody thinks they’re right   . . .   ” “   you think you can do whatever you want   . . .   well ,   i’m   sick   of it .   ” “   i’ll always be there to bring you back .   ” “   why you gotta cause me so much trouble   . . . ??   ” “   am i the one who did this to you ??   ” “   why are you trying to stop me ??   ” “   i can’t let you go do anything crazy .   ”

[deakyjoe]

Burnt Cake & Melted Ice Cream

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

Category: friends to lovers, and they were roommates!

Summary: Gaz returns home from deployment earlier than expected.

Warnings: fluff, kissing, best friends to lovers, reader can’t bake, reader is a bit of a chaotic mess, that’s it I think

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: How am I supposed to pay attention to anything this man is saying when he’s got those big beautiful brown eyes? They’re distracting! Dedicated to @sofasoap who I asked ages ago for advice on this and then never actually got it finished <3

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The cake was burning.

You were blissfully unaware.

Blissful may have been an exaggeration. Unaware was not. In fact, you were entirely too busy cleaning up your living room for the arrival of your best friend and roommate whose plane was scheduled to land in two hours time. You were trying not to panic as you were nowhere near ready to welcome him home and certainly not prepared to leave to go and pick him up from the airport within the next hour. You hadn't even showered yet!

It was a regular thought in your brain about how it was possible for you to make your home such a mess when Gaz was away. It's not like he was regularly doing the housekeeping. But maybe his absence meant that there was no one to keep you in check.

So this happened every time he was on his way home. You'd sweat as you desperately tried to scrub away any evidence of your sinful sloth state while he was away. And hate yourself for leaving it to the last minute as always.

You were knocked out of your hypnotic cleaning state by someone at your front door. Not knocking. Just making a vague scratching sound against the wood. Your first instinct was to attack. In self defence of course. So you grabbed the item closest to you - a bottle of furniture polish.

With the metal tube gripped tightly in two hands, you made your way towards the door where it now sounded like someone was attempting to pick the lock. You desperately tried to remember the moves Gaz had taught you to ward off stranger danger. None of it was coming back to you.

So with the furniture polish held high above your head, and a scream ready to leave your lungs, you waited for the intruder.

You were pleasantly surprised when a familiar face emerged from behind the door and sent you the smile that made the edges of his brown eyes crinkle.

“Hey- what are you doing?” Gaz’s face dropped as he took in your attack stance, gaze flicking over the bottle in your hands back towards your open mouth.

Your hands fell back to your sides, your heart rate decreasing rapidly in relief. “I thought somebody was breaking in!”

“With a key?” He held up the little metal object for you to see.

You sniffed and folded your arms across your chest. “Picking the lock.”

“Ah, right.” He nodded in understanding.

You suddenly realised that he shouldn’t be standing in front of you in your home at that time. "What are you doing here? Your flight isn't supposed to land for another two hours! I'm supposed to be picking you up at the airport!"

Your best friend shrugged. "Yeah, I lied."

You frowned. "Why?"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"But I wanted to surprise you! I baked a cake!”

He unsuccessfully stifled a laugh. “Why did you bake a cake?”

“Welcome home present or something, I don’t know.” You sighed and looked at him properly for the first time, suddenly thankful he was home and healthy. "I missed you."

Gaz visibly relaxed. "I missed you too."

As the two of you embraced with a warm hug, you remembered what state you were in.

You pushed away from him and looked down at yourself. "Shit, I haven't even gotten dressed yet."

He reached out and playfully tugged on the hem of your shirt. "I like you in your pyjamas."

"Not exactly the prettiest sight to come home to though, is it?" You scoffed and slapped his hand away.

He closed the door behind him and kicked his bags to the side. "Do you think I care? I'm just happy to see your face again."

"You've got that photo of me." You countered, starting to walk back to the kitchen.

He followed. "Nothing beats the real thing."

"Well, I can agree with that." You said with a mock arrogant sniff.

With a laugh, Gaz thought about something. "You been wearing that t-shirt I gave you?"

"Yeah.” You glanced away bashfully. “Stole another one from your wardrobe too."

"Why?"

"First one stopped smelling like you." You confessed, stopping in your tracks when the distinct smell of burning hit your nose. You ran towards the oven, switching it off and wrenching the door open. Smoke spilled out in a black cloud. "It's all gone to shit."

Gaz looked over your shoulder. "It's okay. I wasn't very hungry anyway."

You knew he was lying. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled softly at you. "Ice cream?"

You nodded, appreciating how he was sparing your feelings. "Ice cream."

Ice cream was always the solution for the two of you. Bad day at work? Ice cream. Terrible first date? Ice cream. Feeling down? Ice cream. It always worked.

As you pulled the piece of charcoal that was supposed to be a cake out from the oven, Gaz seemed to hesitate at the sight of the ice cream.

“Uhhh…”

You groaned. “What? Don’t tell me we’re out.”

“No, not out.” He paused.

“What then?”

He looked at you with apology in his eyes. "I think our freezer's broken."

“It’s what?!” You gasped, running to his side only to find out that he was correct. Everything in there was very defrosted. Including the completely thawed ice cream which had leaked from its tub into a large melted puddle. “Aw, shit.”

“It’s okay.”

You could’ve cried. “No, it’s not. I just wanted it to be all nice for you when you got home this time and look! I fucked it all up.”

“Broken appliances aren’t your fault.” He swung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close next to him, burying his nose in the top of your head. Physical affection wasn't uncommon between the two of you. It was, in fact, the back-up plan for when ice cream was out of the picture. “Besides, coming home to you is enough.”

“Shut up, Garrick.” You mumbled but didn’t push him away, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his torso to hug him closer to you.

“Let’s just sit down, order some food and watch a movie, yeah?”

“Alright.” You sighed, letting him drag you back to the living room when the two of you collapsed into the pile of cushions and blankets that you had failed to tidy up before his early arrival.

“Did a bomb go off in here or something?” Gaz looked around the room and took in the disarray.

“Was cleaning.” You grumbled into his shoulder. “Wanted it to be nice.”

“Mhm, you said.” He paused. “Do you always do this before I come home?”

“Yes.” You sat up to look at him again. “You deserve it.”

The two of you held eye contact for a few seconds, probably too long to be called platonic but you pushed the thought away. Until Gaz spoke.

"I thought about you a lot while I was away."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the possible connotations behind that broad statement. "I'm flattered. Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to remember your best friend back home. Really appreciate it."

He shook his head. "No, I mean- I mean I thought about you all the time. All the time."

That caught you off guard.

"Really?" You squeaked.

Gaz chuckled. "Yeah."

"Why?" You knew why.

He uttered your name softly, resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. Why did it suddenly feel wrong to touch you? “I think you know why.”

“Say it.”

He didn’t want to be too forthcoming with it. So he settled on something he hoped to be more gentle and subtle. “The thing we’ve always avoided talking about. Even when people imply it.”

“Kyle…” You rarely used his first name. Nobody did. It was reserved for particular moments. You decided this was one of them.

He took it the wrong way. “No, I get it. You don’t feel- that’s okay. I’m sorry for-“

“No, that’s now what I-“ You cut yourself off with a frustrated huff. "I just don't want this to be some fleeting thought you had whilst getting shot at because I'm the closest person in your life."

His eyebrows shot up. "It's not."

“No?”

“No, I promise.”

You watched him for a moment, the sincerity that was pouring off of him. Maybe he was being serious, maybe he truly meant it. You figured there was only one way to test it.

“Kiss me.”

He looked shocked. "Kiss you?"

"Yes, kiss me."

"You want me to kiss you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Kyle. I want you to kiss me."

He sat up straighter, fixing his posture. "Okay, I'm gonna kiss you."

"You better." You laughed.

"Alright, I'm about to kiss you."

"Just shut up and kiss me, Garrick."

And he did. With one hand on the side of your face, the other on one of your thighs and yours tangling in the front of his shirt. The two of you kissed for the first time. It was long overdue, the both of you knew it as soon as your lips touched. It was sweet, and tender, and almost a little desperate, and it felt right.

The two of you pulled back for air with a slightly shy giggle.

"Please tell me that worked for you. Because it really worked for me." He mumbled, swiping his thumb across your cheek.

“Oh, it really did.” You replied, leaning back in to kiss him again which he was only too happy to reciprocate.

The burnt cake, the melted ice cream, the untidy room, and any previous doubts went forgotten for the rest of the night.

A/N: it’s a crime how long it’s taken me to write for Gaz :(

[ahgastay]

You Can’t Leave Me Too

Hi, everyone! My first Eddie writing! I’m thinking about opening up requests if you guys would like? Hope you enjoy!

How the two of you got here after the day you had; you have no idea.

It started with a homemade breakfast from Eddie (or what he knew how to make, which was scrambled eggs and bacon), then you both meeting up with Dustin so Eddie could see his opinion on the new campaign Eddie had planned for the next few weeks. He surprised you by taking you to lunch at your favorite diner; the one he took you to for your first date, before you both headed to Indy to go to the music store so Eddie could get new strings for his baby.

That’s where everything started to fall apart.

Eddie is a jealous guy, and he does not like it when somebody even looks at what is his. So, when one of the workers at the music store decided to shoot his shot with you while Eddie was busy looking for the specific strings he needed, he could feel his whole body heat up. He started to see red when the guy reached up and placed his hand on your forearm and lightly brushed it with his thumb. He could see you take a step back and watched the man step forward to stay within the same distance as you. He noticed your mouth moving a little and noticed the small smirk on the employee’s face. He reached up and grabbed the strings he needed before turning around to look back at the both of you and saw the worker reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. At that, his vision turned red and he practically sprinted across the store to get over to you both.

What Eddie saw from his perspective was completely different from the actual thing happening right in front of him. You were waiting for him by the check out area, knowing Eddie knew exactly what he needed and would not take awfully long. You decided you would buy the both of you ice cream from the small mom-and-pop parlor across the street. You placed your bag on the counter and started to look inside to make sure you brought enough cash with you, as you saw the small ‘cash only’ sign on the door.

“Can I help you with something, gorgeous?” A voice came from beside you. You know it wasn’t Eddie from how smooth it sounded compare to the rasp Eddie had in his.

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you. Just waiting for my boyfriend.” You replied with a small smile.

“You sure? I don’t see anybody else around here.”

“Well you must not have looked well enough because he is literally standing not even 50 feet away from us.” You gave a snark reply, knowing how this is going to end if you didn’t end it now and Eddie saw.

“I mean, he must not care that much if he isn’t over here with you and is more worried about whatever he needs over there.” The guy, Harrison based on his name tag, said while placing his hand on your forearm and rubbing slightly with his thumb. You immediately took a step back from him, which didn’t stop him from advancing onto you.

“Don’t touch me, you asshole.” You barked at him, voice low as you didn’t want to make Eddie aware of what was happening not far from him. The guy smirked at you and let out a slight laugh.

“Loyal AND has a bratty attitude? That’s my kind of girl.” He said, lifting the same hand that was on your forearm and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You were too shocked at his confidence to do that, that you couldn’t even move. You could hear heavy footsteps getting closer to the both of you. You could tell by the heavy pounding of the shoes and the stride that it was Eddie.

“And what the hell is going on over here?” Eddie almost screeched.

“Nothing much, man. About to get mama’s number.” Harrison replied, eyes never leaving you even though yours will dead set on Eddie, hoping he would see your silent plea to him to help get you out of this situation.

“Then you must be fucking crazy because you won’t be getting my girlfriend’s number, I can promise you that.” Eddie replied, wrapping an arm around your back and shoulder’s pulling you tight against his side. You placed your arm around his waist, practically holding on for dear life.

“Oh, so YOU’RE the absent boyfriend who left this pretty girl all by herself then, huh?” Harrison’s eyes drifted over to Eddie with a nasty smile on his face. You could feel the slight shake in Eddie’s body as he tried to control how angry he was getting.

“Eddie, please lets just leave, it isn’t worth it.” You begged him, not wanting to be here any longer.

“Yeah, Eddie, you might actually wanna listen to your girlfriend before she decides maybe I am the better man here.” Harrison mocked.

You had enough as you felt Eddie tense, knowing that meant he was going to get physical any second. You grabbed the strings from Eddie’s hand, throwing them on the counter.

“We won’t be needing these. Fuck you.” You yelled at the employee, making the people around you in the store turn around to see what all the commotion was. You moved towards the door practically dragging Eddie with you. Once you left the store, Eddie removed his grip on you and stormed towards the van. You got in on the passenger side, strapping in and staring straight through the windshield. You heard Eddie start the van and quickly peal out of the parking lot and heading onto the nearest highway.

The whole ride home was completely silent from both sides, as you knew Eddie would need some time to calm down. It was getting a bit late around 7pm now and it was starting to get dark outside. Once you pulled up in front of the trailer, you saw Wayne leaving for the night. Eddie stormed right passed him into the trailer and you let out a sigh at the fact that he was still upset about everything that happened earlier.

“What’s up with him?” Wayne asked.

“Some guy tried to flirt with me at the music store and egged on Eddie once he came over by me. I thought maybe he would calm down during the ride, but I guess not.” You explained.

“Oh man. Well be careful with him, he cares for you a lot. I can understand why he’s upset.”

“Me too, but it’s not like I was enjoying it.” You defended yourself.

“Oh, I know. But Eddie just doesn’t wanna lose you, sweet girl.”

“I don’t want to lose him either.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll calm down soon enough.”

Wayne gave you a smile and a kiss on the head before he headed off to wherever he was going for the night.

You waved at him before turning to walk up the steps into the trailer. Once you were inside, you walked towards the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water. Eddie was standing by the fridge with his arms crossed, looking at you with a blank face. You turned towards him, placing the cup down after drinking most of it.

“It’s getting late, what do you wanna do for dinner?” You asked, walking towards him and placing your arms around his waist. He immediately grabbed your arms and tore them off of him.

“Excuse me? All that shit that happened and you wanna talk about dinner?” He said incredulously.

“What about it?” You asked, with an eyebrow lifted.

“What about it?! I was stood just across the store from you and you STILL couldn’t help but flirt with someone else!” He yelled at you, arms flying everywhere.

“Um, excuse ME?” You started, both eyebrows lifted now. “I’m not sure what conversation you were listening to, but it sure as well wasn’t the one I was forced into because there is no way in hell telling someone that I have a boyfriend and to not touch me is flirting.” You yelled back at him.

“Oh please, you enjoy every ounce of attention you get from anything with a mouth and a set of legs.” Eddie scoffed at you, turning around and walking into the living room.

“No, Eddie, come back in here and finish what you started.” He turned and walked back in the kitchen, eyes now wide and almost black. “You are NOT going to sit here and accuse me and flirting with someone and then think you can turn and walk away from me. Why would you even assume I was interested in even TALKING to another guy? You must be out of your damn mind.” You yelled, pointing a finger at him.

“What else am I supposed to think?! He fucking touched you multiple times, (Y/N), and you didn’t seem to care that much!”

“I fucking told him not to touch me! Are you even listening to me, Eddie? You sound crazy right now.”

“Oh, don’t start that shit with me.” He laughed. “I know what I saw back there, I’m not an idiot.”

“Well you’re acting like one, Eddie. I don’t understand why you would assume I would even be somewhat interested in someone else!”

“Because you love the attention! Just the attention itself gets you off!”

“God, you just love to piss me off, don’t you?” You pushed past him into the living room.

“Oh so I can’t walk away but you can? I’m not done with you!” He yelled, following you.

You plopped onto the couch and rubbed your temples, already getting a headache from all the yelling.

The arguing continued for about half an hour, Eddie being completely red in the face and you already knowing your throat was going to be sore the next day because of how raw it is. You figured that Eddie was not going to be calming down anytime soon, but you were finished with this fight about 10 minutes ago, wanting to stop and just make up already.

“Alright, Eddie, I get it.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Why are you still with me if you want to flirt with other guys? You’re acting like a whore!” He yelled, about 5 inches from your face.

You finally snapped after that.

“Go fuck yourself, Eddie! I have been nothing but loyal to you since the minute you asked me on our first date! You are all I have wanted since we met! But, you always act like I am just in this to spite you or take pity on you and I am sick and tired of it! I love you more than I have ever loved anything or plan on loving anything but I cannot sit here and listen to you berate me like I haven’t spend the last almost 2 years loving you and caring for you. If you can’t get that through your thick ass skull, then maybe I should rethink my choices here because I can obviously tell the trust in this relationship is severely one sided.” You screamed, shoving him away from you. You felt like your whole body was vibrating from the anger and sadness that was filling you completely. “You know what, fuck this dude, I’m out of here.”

You turned to grab your keys from the bowl by the front door, but were instantly stopped by something trapping your legs to the ground. You attempted to turn the best you can, but could barely move as it was.

“No, no, no, you can’t leave me. You can’t leave me, please I’m begging you, I’m so incredibly sorry.” Eddie cried out, nails digging into your legs. “I know I fucked up and I’m the biggest idiot alive, but you can’t go. Please, you can’t leave me too.”

You forced him off your legs, but he practically threw himself up towards you and had you in an iron grasp.

“Please, everyone leaves me. But please not you, you can’t walk out on me too. I’ll do whatever you want but please, PLEASE don’t walk out the door.” He hiccupped between certain words. “I’ll go sit in my room and you can stay out here just PLEASE don’t walk out on me.” He implored into your neck. “Losing you would kill me, baby, I am so sorry.”

You had never seen him so upset before. You placed a hand on his back and rubbed a little bit.

“Eddie, come on, baby, let go.”

“No, not until you say you aren’t leaving.”

“Eddie, I just need a breather for a second.”

“Then I’ll go.” He pulled back, hands gripping around your upper arms. “I’ll leave. And you can stay here, where I know you’re safe. I’ll leave and come back later but please stay here.” He had tears streaked on his cheeks and his eyes were a light shade of red. “But I cannot handle watching you walk out the door. Please, (Y/N), so many people have left me already, I could not bare you being the next.”

“Eddie.” You brought up a hand to place on his cheek. “I promise, I’m going to come back. I just need to fresh air and to think about everything that happened.”

“Please, I didn’t mean it.” He left out a small sob and his lip wobbled. “I was just angry; I promise it wasn’t at you. I was just upset about everything, please you have to know I didn’t mean it. I do trust you, more than I trust anybody on this god forsaken planet. You are nothing near being a whore, and I know you love me I was just jealous that stupid ass guy was trying to flirt with you. You have to believe me, I was being stupid.” He begged, pushing his cheek into your hand before grabbing it with his and pressing kisses to your palm.

“Yeah, Eddie, I know. But it still hurt. And I just need a little time to process everything. I won’t be long, maybe just until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” He stuttered. “But you were supposed to stay with me tonight.”

“I know, Eddie. But after all of this, I just need a little bit.”

He shook his head.

“Please, baby, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to. But I need a little bit.”

He nodded before his eyes swelled with tears again and ran down his cheeks. You wipe them clean before pressing a small kiss to them both.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Promise me? Promise you will.”

“I promise. I swear it.” You nodded while saying.

He took a deep breath before closing his eyes and nodding as well. You smiled and gave him a small hug that he turned into a tight embrace, almost as if you would disappear forever if he let go. You had to be the one to break it, taking a step back and grabbing your keys before opening the front door and bouncing down the steps, Eddie following close behind you. He opened your car door for you, leaning down to look at you once you got in.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. I’m so incredible sorry for ruining the night for us.”

“Don’t apologize, I argued too. I’ll be back in a little while.” You said, starting up the engine.

“Is it, uh… is it okay to give you a kiss before you leave?”

“Eddie, you don’t have to ask to kiss me.”

“I know, but with everything, I didn’t wanna overstep.”

You stretched up and gave him a small kiss before he smiled and stepped back, closing the door. You started to back out of the drive way and saw him sit on the front steps of the trailer. You could see that he wiped his face before placing both hands directly onto it, rocking back and forth slightly. You can tell from prior instances that he was crying again.

You felt horrible. And It sucks, because YOU didn’t start this fight, he did. But seeing the way he reacted just to you leaving hit you in a place you didn’t expect. Of course, you knew about his childhood and growing up, how so many people had abandoned him when he was just a child and how losing people affected him. Shit, you couldn’t even fathom losing Eddie. It would leave the gapping hole in your heart that would be impossible to fix. Losing the love of your life would leave you in a state of misery and hopelessness. Seeing Eddie on his knees, begging and sobbing just for you to not go anywhere hurt more than it should have. And to think you wanted to leave him alone for a whole night to wallow in that pain he felt in those few minutes. You changed your mind and pulled the car back into where it was originally sat. You opened and slammed the door shut, making Eddie lift his head from his hands. You marched towards him, watching him stand up and speed walk towards you. You immediately grabbed his face, making him look directly into your eyes.

“Eddie Munson, you are the most stubborn man I have ever met in my life. You instigate sometimes and you push people to their limits, but goddamnit, I love you more than anything in this world and I need you to understand that. There is not a single person on this planet that I would wanna be with if it were not you. I wanna grow old with you and have our own place and a cat or a dog and maybe even have kids with you one day. I don’t care if Tom Cruise or James Hetfield tried to hit on me, I would still come home to you every. single. time. Do you understand me?” You said.

Eddie was crying even more now, practically clawing at your back to get you as close as physically possible.

“I love you. I love you so much, it’s scary sometimes. But yeah, I understand. I’m so sorry for everything I said, I didn’t mean a single word. I was angry and being stupid as always. But I promise I trust you and I love you and I never want to spend a single day away from you. You’re everything to me, baby.”

“I love you more.”

“Don’t fight me on this, I’m gonna win.”

You laughed and nodded as well. You pulled him closer to you, just wanting to feel him. You hugged for a little bit before he dragged you inside with him.

“Please don’t leave me again. My heart felt like it was physically breaking in my chest. Like I was going to be physically sick or something.”

“We have to be better at communicating with one another. That whole thing could have been avoided if we sat down like adults and talked about it. And for the record, I NEVER flirted with that guy back there. I told him not to touch me but he wouldn’t back off and then he touched me again an-“

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I trust you and I believe you.” He said as we walked into his bedroom. I made a beeline towards the bed before stripping off my pants and bra before laying down in my shirt. Eddie followed close behind me, stripping into just his boxers. He slid in next to me, pulling me towards him and moving downwards so he could rest his head in my neck. He placed soft kisses there.

“I love you a whole lot, baby. I’m sorry again for all of that today. I think I just heard you say you were leaving and something in me just snapped. I don’t ever wanna lose you.”

“And you never will. Promise.”

“And don’t think I didn’t catch you say James Hetfield back there. You would leave me for him in a heartbeat.” Eddie laughed, lifting his head from my neck. I laughed back.

“Oh, and you wouldn’t do that same thing?”

“Touché.”

[crocodilenjoyer]

op fic recs

dont tell my professors.

on my way to believing by nervermordor | g | romance dawn arc | vaguely zoluna, nami-centric | 8.5k words | complete

A head pops up on the other side of Straw Hat; the last of the fading sunlight refracts off Roronoa’s earrings, winking at her. “Oh,” he says, sounding only mildly surprised to see her. “You’re here too.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Roronoa grins. “Yeah. He does this.”

Nami props herself up a little higher on her already bruising elbow. Straw Hat’s got an arm wrapped around Roronoa, same as her, pinning him to his other side.

“Okay,” Nami says, feeling her third headache in as many hours beginning to creep up. “What is this?”

“How he sleeps, I guess. Been doing it since we started sailing together.”

“You’re joking.”

Roronoa shrugs.

“Well, how do we get him to let go?”

“Dunno. Haven’t figured that part out yet,” Roronoa says and then, because he’s no help at all, lays back down.

migratory animals by donutsandcoffee | t | ambiguous setting, roughly enies lobby-onwards | zosan | 1.4k | complete

Sanji is carefully placing a cherry on top of the ice cream, his hands nimble, soft, almost—gentle. But all Zoro sees is the way the hems of his pants are still soaked in blood from an earlier skirmish with a marine ship, red seeping into the cracks on the floorboard, spattering across the kitchen floor in a slow drip, drip, drip.

Zoro stares, fascinated. He can’t bring himself to look away.

(Or, Zoro and Sanji—terrible monsters, in love)

trouble is a friend of mine by taizi | t | ambiguous setting, sometime from wci to post-wano-ish | gen, straw hats, sanji-centric | 3.1k | complete

“I don’t buy it,” Pete retorts. “Someone like you? Some cook from East Blue? You’re probably worth a couple hundred thousand bellies at best, maybe a million, if your captain’s somebody.”

Sanji tilts his head back so that it rests against the dirty wall behind him. He’s still upright, somehow, through sheer stubbornness or spite. He doesn’t look like someone who only has tonight left to live. In fact, he looks sharp. There’s no better word for it. His expression is still as peaceable as it has been since he arrived, but watching him is like watching a knife slide out of its sheath. He is, abruptly, dangerous. A tool made for cutting.

“If you knew where I’ve been, you would be terrified of me,” he says.

stolen things by Origamidragons | t | roughly enies lobby-onwards | namivivi | 2.8k | complete

A catalogue of things stolen by, for, and from Princess Vivi of Alabasta with regards to a certain thief, as documented by her long-suffering captain of the guard.

see hope rise with the tide by Origamidragons | t | pre-canon with info from fishman island | gen, nami & jinbe | 3.2k | complete

“If you’re looking for Arlong, he’s inside,” she says, pointing at the monstrous building. Jinbe doesn’t look away from her, from the bruise over her eye. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen. Her fingers are worn red and raw. As he watches, a drop of blood drips to the ground.

A girl, with reddish hair and exhausted eyes and a ragged, forced smile, and it’s Koala but it’s not.

(Jinbe goes to check in on his brother, and finds some things that need to be set right.)

ocean breathes salty. by novks (thychesters) | t | ambiguous setting, post-timeskip | zolu | 2.7k | complete

“Do you think you can bench press me?” Luffy asks, interrupting him in the middle of a crunch, and Zoro pauses and says, “yeah, sure.”

now here you come by mugibaras (psalter) | e | set around ch. 956/ep. 957 | mishanks | 6.6k | complete

There’s a tightening feeling low in Shanks’ stomach as his gaze follows those long fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, the candlelight lancing over a sharp cheekbone. Mihawk is terrifying before he is beautiful, but Shanks isn’t afraid of him, and Mihawk is so fucking pretty. The dim glow filtering in through the windows is beginning to tinge warm, reminding Shanks that they’re on borrowed time; he glances at the clock and decides. He reaches over before Mihawk can straighten and curls his fingers around the shell of his ear.

“Hey.”

Mihawk stills and looks at him from the corner of his eye, barely turning his head. The bottle is in his hand, and Shanks trails his fingers down Mihawk’s jaw to take the liquor from him and set it down on the table.

“Wanna bang?”

But Patience Boasts by Augment | t | post-wci | zolu and tagged as "sanji/the concept of love" | 9.4k | complete

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Standards by taizi | nr, probably g | post-timeskip | gen, straw hats | 2.4k

"You aren't planning on bringing that boy in with you tomorrow night, are you? Our restaurant has certain standards."

(In which the Straw Hats set out to prove their captain meets certain standards; whether he likes it or not.)

The Marks You Choose to Bear by ThisCat | g | post-timeskip, small reference to info from wci | gen, straw hats | 5.3k | complete

Usopp gets his hands on a tattoo machine.

Soon after, he gets his hands all over his crew.

as the world goes on its wicked way by taizi | t | ambiguous setting, post-zou | gen, straw hats, luffy-centric | 5.4k | complete

When they’re on the forecastle, with the helm just behind them and the figurehead casting them further in shadow, Usopp calls, “Raise the sails!”

Luffy’s gasp next to his ear is the best part of his entire day. 

The sails unfold in a great rolling crash of canvas. Even the striped gaff swings out, catching the wind. The whole sloop gives a powerful lurch as if she’s eager to sprint out of port on the back of whatever gale blows along next. 

And painted on the foresail, bold and bright and proud, is a grinning Jolly Roger in a yellow straw hat. 

“That’s mine,” Luffy whispers, hushed and awed. 

“Told you so,” Usopp says smugly. 

Lost in Translation by HyperbolicReverie | t | wano arc | gen, zoro-centric | 4.4k | complete

Ever since he'd left home, people had not stopped asking Zoro about his accent.

Or, the reason Zoro was allowed to wander around alone in Wano.

poly philtatos (the most loved by far) by swordsmans | t | post-fishman island, spoilers through wano | zolu, straw hats, zoro-centric | 24.8k | complete | MCD as a framing device

He keeps moving forward at a steady pace, resisting the urge to run because how fucking embarrassing would that be, running because he missed them, and as he breaks through the treeline he shouts, “Oi, oi—what took you guys so long? It's been—”

And then he freezes, because yes, actually—something is very, very wrong.

The Sunny is anchored just off shore, close enough to see the deck but far enough away that the crew has had to take the Mini Merry to make land. Scattered across the beach in various stages of chaos—rolling around, yelling, fighting—are his crew but not his crew, so similar and yet so, so different. They look younger, fresher, and whatthefuck there, on the deck of the Sunny just peering over the railing, he catches a flash of green—his own green hair—

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and then immediately turns back around because no, actually, he does not want to deal with this.

informal swordfighting, and the sorts by naturecalls111 | e | modern au, canon setting n/a | zosan | 6.5k | complete

It’s been a while since Sanji has gotten some action, which is the only reason why Zoro’s deplorable, barely-there attempt somehow works. Obviously.

got all my attention fixed on you (and you're just where you said you'd be) by nevermordor | g | pre-enies lobby | zolu | 7.5k words | complete

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. They ain’t like normal bruises or cuts. There’s something about seeing the shape of his teeth in Zoro’s skin. Something about the colors, the slightly paler insides of Zoro’s wrists, and the blueness of his veins, and the dark pink color of where Luffy bit him.

riptide by nevermordor | gen | post-alabasta | zolu | 6.7k | complete

Luffy unhinges his jaw and crams an entire breakfast ham down his throat. He chews reflectively a moment and then demands,

“Zoro, you wanna have a date tonight?”

Zoro answers by inhaling the rest of his orange juice through his nose and promptly spewing it everywhere.

“That a yes?”

--

Luffy and Zoro destroy a restaurant, end up lost, get in a bar fight with a bunch of pirates and go on their first date. Not necessarily in that order.

gather up all of the crew (it's time to ship out) by wildparsnip | t | post-arlong park | gen, east blue quintet | 3.5k | complete

“Sanji! It’s lunchtime, right? Now? Soon? Now, right?”

His legs are tight around Sanji’s waist and his arms have come around Sanji’s chest and crossed, grabbing the opposite shoulders, the whole length of his chest pressed tight and close. Sanji can feel the vibration when he talks, the snap of the rubber resonating in his bones.

Luffy’s hair is tickling the back of his neck.

The whole thing is – it’s –

For a long second Sanji is frozen.

“Sanji?”

It feels –

(The Straw Hat Pirates set sail in the East Blue.)

the hand that thieves by Origamidragons | t | pre-canon | gen, crocodile-centric | 2.8k | complete | cw brief ableism

If he gets caught stealing again, if he loses his other hand, he’ll never be a pirate. Never be anything besides a crippled beggar, pleading for scraps.

If he doesn’t steal, he’ll starve.

giving value to survival by yohoapirateslifeforme | t | pre-canon to shells town | gen, zoro-centric | 11k words | complete

Despite the fluid nature of his ambition, Zoro himself rarely changes: principles, directions, appearance. And when he does, he makes sure it's under the heavy influence of both long-term irritation and a healthy dose of the nearest hard liquor.

Or, Zoro is trans, surgeries cost money, and there's little to no verified adult supervision in his life.

a glance that holds the world and all its seas by JacknessofHearts | t | fishman island arc | sanuso | 6.4k | complete

“God, again?!” Usopp looks down at Sanji who's sitting against a column and tilting his head back while pressing a tissue against his bleeding nose.

“Shu' ub,” Sanji growls. Or, he tries to. It sounds rather unimpressive.

“You're terrible,” Usopp says but he can't hold back the fond smile that's been blooming all over his face again and again ever since he's stepped foot on the Sunny after returning to Sabaody.

*

It's the big party after defeating Hody Jones. Usopp gets Sanji away from all the mermaids. (Honestly, Sanji, these nosebleeds are disgusting.)

[fluff-n-cookies]

Yan! Mama! Shoto

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

************************************************************************

Shoto will take you out to go eat cold Soba every Saturday hes HAS to.

and he always takes you to Fuyumi's to the point where she is a better mother to you than your real mother.

like Fuyumi will babysit you when Shoto is on a mission and she CAN and WILL take you out on a spa day at home. shes painting your nails, she's helping you do skin care, and she is definitely the best person gossip with. all you have to do is say the word and she is not spilling the tea, No, she is flooding all of japan with the tea. she also has the greatest ice cream in the world, your fav flavors? she has it. a weird flavor from another country? hell yeah she does! that one flavor they discontinued 2 years ago? girl she has it. (with daddy enji's credit card she could probably afford health care in america)

Shoto is the type of person to put nothing above you, YOU are his top priority, his one and only, the only thing that really matters to him at this point.

hes the type of person to take you to your favorite store and let you just go crazy. you could buy out the whole candy aisle and he would tell you "snowflake of course you can! just make sure to brush your teeth after."

AND YOU KNOW HES CARRYING ALL THE BAGS.

in winter he will take you outside to go ice skating (doesn't matter if you're bad at it, he just wants to spend time with you)

I also headcanon that he has 2 sons, twins and older than you, SOMEBODY PLEASE GIVE ME NAME IDEAS AND QUIRK IDEAS.

tell me about them in the request and asks section!

^ thing 1, cosplayed his life away.

^thing 2, likes yellow and fighting assholes in your name.

[longitudinalwaveme]

Fictober 2024

Day 9: “Don’t listen to me, listen to them.” 

When Len walked through the front door of the Rogues’ latest hideout, he was immediately faced with the sight of Axel, Digger, and Mick, all of whom were playing cards and trying very hard to look innocent. Which meant that something had gone horribly wrong while he’d been out buying groceries.

“All right, who screwed up this time?” he asked as he sat the bag of ice cream, instant mac and cheese, canned noodles, and beer on the hideout’s only counter. 

Digger took a swig of his beer stein, which was the size of Axel’s head, before gesturing vaguely to his right. Len looked in that general direction, and saw Evan standing stock-still, like he’d been hypnotized or something. Annoyed, he rounded on Axel.

“What’d I tell you about playin’ with the old junk the Pied Piper left lyin’ around?” 

“I didn’t!” Axel squawked. 

“Then how come our key to the Twin Cities is standing around like a statue?” Mick, Digger, and Axel all exchanged a glance, and then Digger and Axel pointed at each other. 

“It was Digger’s fault!”

“It was the anklebiter’s fault!” Len looked at Mick. Mick shrugged.

“It was probably my fault.” Len reminded himself that, as frustrating as his idiot teammates were, he actually cared about them. As much as he would enjoy impaling all of them on ice spikes right now, he would regret it later. 

“What. Happened?” 

“So, about an hour ago, you went to get the grub. Five minutes after you left, Mark came downstairs in his leather jacket and that awful-smelling stuff that’s not perfume if a guy’s wearing it and told us that he had a date, and then he left, too.” Len groaned. This was what he got for leaving Mardon in charge of anything—although in his defense, Scudder had been in prison for the last six months.

“In other words, the only other sorta-responsible adult left the hideout right after me. So what happened after Mardon went to trawl bars for desperate lonely women?” 

“Uh, I caught Axel opening up one of the beer cans and chased him out of the kitchen.” 

“So not fair. You all drink. Why can’t I drink?” Axel muttered. 

“You’re way underage, kid. That stuff ain’t good for you,” Mick replied. 

“Besides, you’re annoying enough sober,” Len added. 

“Nobody ever lets me have any fun…bunch of old geezers…” Len ignored Axel’s whining. 

“And then?” 

“I was watchin’ football on the telly—real football, not what you Yanks call football—when the little anklebiter came in and tried to grab the remote out of my hands.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to play Grand Theft Auto 5. That’s way more fun than watching soccer.” 

“For the last time, it’s not soccer, it’s football!” 

“I don’t care what it’s called! I just want to know why Evan is participatin’ in a one-man mannequin challenge!” Len snapped. Digger took another swig of beer before continuing. 

“Well, after me and the anklebiter had a wrestling match over the remote, I kicked him out of the room and told him to go bother somebody else.” 

“And I found Evan. The two of us were just getting ready to use the Mirror Realm to track down Mark and prank him on his date when somebody knocked on the door. By the time we made it to the door, nobody was there, but there was a big box that said “Free Money” sitting on the doorstep. That sounded pretty rad, so we picked it up and took it inside.” Len stared at Axel in disbelief. 

“A complete stranger left a box on the doorstep that said “Free Money”, and the two of you actually took it inside?” 

“Well, yeah. Who turns down free money?” 

“And what happened then?” 

“Evan opened the box.” 

“Let me guess. There wasn’t any money inside.” 

“Nope. The second that Evan opened the box, a giant plant monster came out and latched onto his chest. It was really freaky—like the space monster from that really old movie that burst out of that guy’s chest. Anyway, after that happened, I went to get Digger and Mick, and we tried to pull it off him, but it didn’t do any good.” 

“So we, uh, kind of figured we’d just play cards until you came home to fix the problem,” Mick finished. 

“The blighter’s been standin’ there frozen stiff for thirty minutes now,” Digger added. Len took a deep breath. 

“Let me get this straight. McCulloch opened the stupid “Free Money” box, and he was attacked by an alien plant monster that attached itself to his chest?” 

“And then put him in a trance or something, yeah. I lit a match right in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink,” Mick replied. 

“You ain’t supposed to have matches anymore, Mick.” 

“I got it from Digger!” Mick protested. 

Len sighed and went over to examine McCulloch more closely. Sure enough, a wriggly, squirmy mass of something was growing out of his chest. It was hard to really describe, but Len guessed that if he’d had to come up with something, he would’ve said it looked like a cross between a bunch of roses—if roses were black—and an octopus, but much worse than either of those things. It was so wrong that he was having to resist the urge to puke all over the floor. 

That wasn’t the freakiest part, though. The freakiest part was the look on McCulloch’s face, which made it clear that he was, in fact, in a trance. His eyes were open, but they were glazed over and totally unfocused. Whatever McCulloch was looking at, it wasn’t in this room.

 Len snapped his fingers under McCulloch’s nose, but got no response. His body didn’t so much as twitch. It was downright spooky—almost as much as the huge gap-toothed grin on McCulloch’s face. Nobody who had a horrifying plant monster growing out of his chest should be grinning like that. 

“All right, what’d you guys try to use to get the plant off that didn’t work?” 

“I tried using my boomerangs to cut it off, but whatever those bloody tentacles are made of, they’re sturdy. I couldn’t get through ‘em—and trying to use the ‘rangs as a lever to push the thing off didn’t work either.” 

“I used my joybuzzer to electrify it, but that didn’t do any good.” 

“I tried setting it on fire.” 

“You WHAT?” 

“I, uh, tried setting it on fire.” 

“While it was attached to McCulloch?” Mick blushed. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing that the plant wasn’t flammable.” 

“You think?” Len was surrounded by idiots; he really was.

“That wasn’t even the most foolish attempt they made to remove the creature. The young ruffian you work with attached a bomb to the plant, and only Mr. Harkness stopping him from actually activating the bomb kept him from blowing Mr. McCulloch—and quite likely the room— to kingdom come,” a disembodied voice suddenly said.  Len glanced around the room in alarm. 

“Who’s there?” he demanded. The voice laughed, and then a tall, pale man, dressed all in black, literally stepped out of the shadows of the dimly-lit warehouse. 

“Good day, Mr. Snart,” the man said, with a tip of his top hat. 

“Shade. Word on the street was that you were in Opal,” Len said warily. 

“So I was—but that has never stopped me from dropping by to visit the Twin Cities from time to time. I have quite a bit of fondness for this charming metropolis, and even more fondness for its first and greatest defender. And it’s quite fortunate for you that I did—for I know what has attached itself to your friend.” 

“You know what that freaky plant thing is?” Len asked. 

“I do indeed—but information comes at a price.”

“What sorta price?” 

“I would like all of you gentlemen to come to my house for tea next Monday.” Len stared at him in shock. 

“Tea? That’s it? Not cash or jewelry or nothin’?” 

“No, just your company. It does get rather lonesome taking my tea alone in such a great, dark house as mine,” the Shade replied. 

“Well, if that’s what you want, you’ve got yourself a deal. When should we show up?” The Shade smiled. 

“At 4 PM, dear boy. Tea time is always at four,” he said.

“Fine. Then we’ll see you at four Monday.” 

“Excellent.” 

“Wait, what do you mean, we? I’m not drinking tea with no bloody limey!” Digger protested. 

“And I don’t wanna have to waste an afternoon with some top hat-wearing geezer. How old is he, anyway, sixty?” Axel asked. The Shade laughed. 

“Two hundred twelve, actually. I have aged remarkably well.” Mick looked alarmed. 

“You’re not a vampire, are you?” 

“No, my dear boy. I am not.” Mick leaned over to Len.

“That sounds like something a vampire would say. Maybe we shouldn’t go, Len. What if he tries to eat us?” Len rolled his eyes. Idiots. All of them. 

“We’re going to his house for tea, and that’s final!” 

“But—” Axel began. 

“No buts! The three of you got us into this mess, and you’re gonna help get us out of it!” Len exclaimed. Then he turned back to the Shade. 

“Okay. What’s growin’ out of McCulloch’s chest?” The Shade gave him a slight smile, and for a second Len couldn’t help but wonder if the man really was a vampire. Then he shook his head. If the Shade was a vampire, he was pretty sure someone would’ve mentioned it by now. 

“It is, as you seem to have already determined, a plant of extraterrestrial origin, one that visits our humble planet every few decades. It has innumerable names in dozens of alien languages, but I think Krypton provided the most poetic name for the creature. They called it the Dol Gynot—the Black Mercy.” 

“Krypton—like the planet Superman came from?” 

“The very same.”

“You can read alien languages?”

“Of course. Over the course of my immortality, I have had more than enough time to learn several,” the Shade replied. Len decided to file that information to think about later. He had more pressing matters on his hands right now. 

“What does this “Black Mercy” do, exactly?” 

“From what I have ascertained, the Black Mercy is what might be termed a psychic parasite. Upon its arrival on a populated planet, it attaches itself to a sentient host, and provides that host with an immersive dream world, once which represents their deepest desires. While the victim is lost in their dream, the Black Mercy sucks their body dry of its life force, usually over the course of several weeks. Once it has absorbed all it can from its host, it detaches from them and seeks out another victim, leaving only an empty shell behind.” 

“So if we don’t get that thing off him, it’ll kill him?” 

“No. His body will live on—but his mind will be lost forever,” the Shade replied. Axel shuddered. 

“That’s freaky, yo. I sure am glad Evan opened the box and not me.” 

“Axel! That’s an awful thing to say!” Mick exclaimed. 

“What? I don’t want my brains being sucked out by a parasite plant!” Len ignored their bickering. 

“How do we get it off him? I don’t want my key to the Twin Cities to get sucked dry by some alien monster plant.” 

“From my admittedly limited research, removing the Black Mercy from the victim requires either overwhelming brute force, or the use of precisely applied vibratory frequencies, depending on the subspecies of the plant—and, since this appears to be the subspecies that more thoroughly grafts itself to the victim’s body, the latter would be by far the wiser option.” Len started to get that horrible sinking feeling. 

“Does this mean we’re going to have to call the Flash?” 

“Quite so, my dear boy, and cannot say I am disappointed by the prospect. It has been far too long since I last saw my old friend Jay Garrick.” 

Two minutes later, the Shade was on the phone with the speedster, and about thirty seconds after that, the old Flash appeared in the Rogues’ hideout. 

“Good morrow, Jay. It does me good to see you again.” 

“Hello, Richard. What’s the problem?” In response, the Shade pointed his cane at McCulloch. 

“The Black Mercy has returned to Earth.” The old Flash looked alarmed. 

“I remember Superman talking to me about that. Are you sure that that’s what we’re dealing with?” he asked. 

“Very sure. It perfectly matches the one I saw back in 1854,” the Shade replied. 

“And what do you need me to do to get rid of it?” the old Flash asked. 

“I need you to vibrate quickly enough that you separate the Black Mercy from Mr. McCulloch,” the Shade replied. The old Flash looked McCulloch up and down. 

“It’ll take a steady hand, but I should be able to do it.”

“Before you do, old friend, there’s one more thing you need to know.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Part of the cruelty of the Black Mercy is the way in which it co-opts its victims to its own ends. The more deeply immersed Mr. McCulloch is in the fantasy world it has given him, the more difficult you will find it to remove the plant from him.” The old Flash nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“What do you guys think Evan’s seeing?” Mick asked suddenly. Digger snorted. 

“Probably a mountain of cocaine. That, and more money and sheilas than he knows what to do with.” 

******************************************************************************

“Evan, love, would you mind dropping the basket of goodies off at Miss McCulloch’s orphanage for me?”Evan’s mother asked as she mixed the batter for her fern cakes. 

“Of course not, mum. You know I have a soft spot for the wee bairns,” Evan replied. 

“Can I come with ye, Evan? Please? I havenae seen Violet and Mary in forever!” Evan gave his little sister a smile.

“I’d love tae have you, lassie—just so long as you don’t eat all of the biscuits before we even make it to the orphanage.” 

“I won’t! I promise!” Their mum laughed. 

“Have fun, you two—and stay safe!” 

“Dinnae worry, mum. I won’t let anything bad happen to Alice.” Evan grabbed the basket off of the kitchen counter with one hand and took his little sister’s hand with the other, and then the two of them headed out the door of their cottage. It wasn’t very big or very fancy, but it was warm and cozy—and home. Evan wouldn’t have traded it for a palace. 

On their way to Miss McCulloch’s orphanage, Alice stopped every five feet to pick heather and primrose and cow parsley— “I’m going to give Mummy the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever seen!”---and Evan stopped to leaf through a newspaper. It was mostly the same usual aggressive political editorials and dull business reports, but there was a very interesting article on the third page about how the Flash, a superhero from the United States, had defeated a crook who called himself the Mirror Master and could apparently teleport through mirrors. What the article didn’t say, but which was very apparent, was that the bloke was also pure mental. Why else would he dress up in an orange and green leotard? 

Evan forked over a few pounds for the newspaper and folded it up to give to his father later. Da liked to read the news. 

“Come on, Alice, or we’ll be late!” Alice picked one last primrose before running over to him. 

“Wait for me!” she exclaimed. 

As the two of them crossed the little stone bridge that led to the orphanage, they paused for a minute to admire some of the brightly-colored fish swimming in the river below. 

“Look, Evan! There’s a frog!” 

“Want me to catch him so you can kiss him?” Evan teased.

“Eww!” 

“Don’t you listen to Miss McCulloch’s stories? He might turn intae a bonny prince if you kiss him.” Alice wrinkled her nose. 

“I dinnae want to kiss a boy, either—even if he is a prince. Boys are gross.” Evan laughed .

“Aye, that’s be right, Alice. That’d be right.” 

Suddenly, Evan was overwhelmed by an image of himself, as a wee lad, holding another boy under the water of the stream—an image of  desperation, and anger, and fear, most of all. 

“Evan? Are you all right?” Alice’s voice brought him back to himself, and he shook his head to clear it of the horrible image that had just seen.

“Aye, lassie. I’m fine. Just got lost in my thoughts, that’s all.” As Evan and Alice walked up the path that led to the front door of the orphanage, Evan tried to figure out why such a horrible image had popped into his mind. He had plenty of memories of playing around the stream, but he knew that he’d never held someone under the water in it. And who had the other boy been, anyway? He’d never seen anyone like that before in his life.

Maybe it was best not to think of it. Surely everyone had unsettling thoughts or images pop into their minds sometimes. 

Evan rapped on the front door of the orphanage, and it was answered by Miss McCulloch. She smelled like cinnamon and soap, and she was, Evan was convinced, the kindest woman in the whole world, with the possible exception of his mum. She ran the little orphanage like the old lady who lived in a shoe, and she tried to be a mother to all of the bairns who lived there—and all the other bairns in the neighborhood beside.

“Howzitgoan, Miss McCulloch?” Evan asked. 

“Mr. Erickson! What a pleasant surprise! Are you on holiday from university?”

“Aye. GSA’s been hoora good tae me, but it’s nice tae be back home in Kirkcaldy,” Evan replied. 

“And you brought Alice! It’s good tae see you, my dear.” 

“It’s good tae see you too, Miss McCulloch. I didn’t eat any of the sweets this time.” Miss McCulloch laughed. 

“I’m sure you didn’t. Now, why don’t you run along to the playroom? I know Violet and Mary are dying tae see you.” Alice promptly disappeared further into the orphanage, and Miss McCulloch gave Evan a smile. 

“I can’t believe she’s eight years old already.” 

“I know. Neither can I. Seems like just yesterday I was holdin’ her in my arms.” 

“How have your studies been going, Mr. Erickson?” Evan grinned. “Well. After I finish this semester, I’ll have my master’s in creative writing,” he replied .

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Erickson! I’m sure your parents must be very proud,” Miss McCulloch said. 

“They are—and just call me Evan. You’ve known me ever since I was a wee bairn, after all,”Evan replied. 

“All right. Evan it is, then. How is your father’s business?” Evan laughed. 

“It’s doing well, so far as I can tell. I dinnae understand the first thing about finances myself, but he seems happy with how things are going.” 

“And your mother? How is she?” 

“More busy than ever. I dinnae know how she balances all of her charities and her cooking competitions, too.” 

“Well, if you ever figure it out, tell me. Goodness knows I could use a few more hours in the day running the orphanage.” Evan laughed. 

“Trust me, if  I ever learn her secret, you’ll be the first tae know.” He glanced down at the basket he was still holding. 

“Where do ye want this tae go?” he asked. 

“Don’t worry about the basket, Evan. I’ll see that it gets to the kitchen as soon as I’m done visiting with you,” Miss McCulloch replied. Suddenly, another image flashed into Evan’s mind. It was another picture of himself as a wee bairn, but this time, he was even younger than he had been in the last one—maybe four or five at the most—-and he was clinging to what certainly looked like the same basket he was holding now. 

“My mum and da will come back for me, and they’ll love me forever and ever. It’ll be just like in Miss McCulloch’s stories. You’ll see.” 

“Evan? Are you all right?” Miss McCulloch asked. The image—really, it had been more of a memory, even if Evan wasn’t sure how he could have a memory of something that hadn’t happened—faded, and Evan took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Aye. I’m fine. I….I must have really needed this holiday,” he said. Miss McCulloch nodded sympathetically. 

“Why don’t you go find your sister while I get your mum’s goodies to the kitchen?” she asked. Evan nodded gratefully and made his way to the orphanage’s playroom, where his sister was playing dolls with her two best friends. Alice looked up as he came into the room and grinned. 

“Evan, hi! Violet, Mary, this is my big brother, Evan Erickson. He’s home on holiday from university. Evan, these are my best mates, Violet and Mary,” she exclaimed. The two other little girls waved, and Evan waved back. 

“Howzitgoan, lassies? ‘Tis very nice tae meet you—-though Alice has told me so much about you that I feel like I know you already,” he said. 

“Hullo, Evan,” the girl Alice had called Violet said timidly. 

“D’ye want to play with us? We want to play Little Red Riding Hood, and we need someone tae be the Big Bad Wolf,” the other little girl–Mary–asked. 

“And the woodsman, of course,” Alice added. Evan grinned. 

“Of course I will, Alice. Anything tae make you and your friends smile.” 

Evan spent the next hour and a half entertaining his sister and her friends, but when the clock struck six, he realized that he and Alice needed to get back home.

“Alice, we’re going to have tae go now. Like as not, mum has supper waiting for us at home,” he said. Alice bid good-bye to her two friends, and the two of them left the playroom and made their way to the orphanage’s front door. Before they could get there, though, Evan was stopped by Brigit, a red-headed fifteen-year-old who was one of the oldest bairns in the orphanage. 

“Evan, I need tae talk tae ye,” she said. 

“I’m sorry, lassie, but I can’t stay. I need tae get my sister Alice home for supper.” 

In response, Brigit pulled Evan into a storage closet with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible for a girl of her size, and then slammed the door behind them.

“What’s this all about, lassie?” Evan demanded. 

“We missed you so much when you ran away, Evan.” 

“What d’ye mean, when I ran away?” An image of himself, as a lad of about sixteen, climbing the orphanage wall and escaping into the night flashed through his mind. But how could that be? True, he’d spent a lot of time at the orphanage as a bairn, but he hadn’t lived there. 

“I was only five when you left, but I remember your smile. And your laugh. And how you would protect us wee ones when the bigger bairns would pick on us,” Brigit said.

“What are ye–” Evan began. But before he could even get a sentence out, Brigit cut him off. 

“Miss McCulloch was heartbroken when you disappeared, you know. You were the oldest boy at the orphanage when my parents died, and you did a lot of the handiwork to keep the place in shape. Good thing you did, too, because Miss McCulloch never had enough money.” Evan stared at her in confusion. Ever since he could remember, his parents had donated lots of money to Miss McCulloch’s orphanage. It was part of why it was in such good shape. 

But even as Evan thought this, images of the orphanage being run-down, with leaky pipes and broken windows and worn-out furniture, flickered in his mind, accompanied by images of himself trying to fix the sink when it broke and trying his best to retile the roof after a particularly bad storm, because there wasn’t the dosh to pay for a repairman. 

“But then you left—and no one’s seen aught of you but the dosh you send since. Where did you go, Evan?” 

But I didn’t…I didn’t live here. I lived with my mum and da,” Evan protested. He knew it was true. He had so many wonderful memories of his parents, and of Alice. 

But he also had memories of a teenaged boy watching as potential adoptive parents toured the orphanage and knowing that not one of them, not one, would ever consider taking in a sixteen-year-old. 

Which memories were the right ones? 

In a blind panic, he managed to push past Brigit and open the door of the supply closet. Alice was standing outside waiting for him, looking a bit frightened. 

“Evan, what happened?” she asked.

“I dinnae ken, Alice, but I hope I never find out. Let’s get you home tae supper,” he said. After stopping to bid a brief farewell to Miss McCulloch, the two of them left the orphanage, and, thankfully, nothing else weird happened on their way back to their cottage. 

By the time he was handing his da the newspaper and watching his mother cooing over the flowers Alice had gathered for her, Evan had convinced himself that the whole thing must have been the product of his overworked imagination. There was no way that his memories of these wonderful people, of his mum and da and sister, could be the wrong ones. 

“How is Miss McCulloch doing?” his mum asked as they all sat down to eat. 

“She’s busy, of course, but she’s happy. She was hoora pleased to see the basket of goodies you sent,” Evan replied. The image of a wee Evan clutching the basket in the orphanage flickered through his mind again for a brief second, but Evan chased the thought away. It was just his imagination playing tricks on him. Nothing more. 

“And how were Violet and Mary?” Alice grinned.

“They were wonderful, mummy! We had so much fun!” As Alice regaled their parents with the tale of Red Riding Hood and her triumph over the hungry wolf, achieved with the help of a brave woodsman, Evan grinned. How he’d ever lived without his wonderful little sister, he had no idea. 

After supper, and a delicious dessert of fern cakes, Evan and his parents put Alice to bed, and then gathered together in front of the fireplace. As his mother pulled out her knitting needles and his father opened up the whole family’s favorite book, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, a horrible image suddenly forced itself before his mind’s eye—an image of his mum, bled out in a bathtub. 

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

But it felt real, all the same. 

“This is going tae sound a wee bit mental…but mum, could you tell me the story of how I was born? And how we got Alice?” His mother smiled. 

“Do you have another novel planned, Evan?” Evan decided to go along with that idea. It sounded a lot less mental than “I think I’m having memories of a life that never happened”---and he really was in the process of writing his second novel.

“Aye.” 

“Then I’ll give you a refresher on the details. When your father and I were very young—still in secondary school—we fell very deeply in love. We planned to get married as soon as we graduated, but our parents had a different idea. You see, your father’s parents were wealthy, and mine, hardworking though they were, were very poor. No matter what we did, we couldn’t get them to give us their blessings for our marriage—so a week after we finished school, your father and I ran away together. We were young, and foolish, and in love—and, well, one thing led to another, and I got pregnant. Two weeks later, your father’s parents tracked him down and forced him to return home. He insisted that he wanted to stay with me, and that he wanted to be a father to the baby, but his parents ignored him—and when I turned up on my parents doorstep pregnant, they turned me away. They said that I should have known better than to believe the sweet words of a wealthy boy like your father, and that they didn’t have the money to give me or my baby a place to live. After that, I went to your father’s house, but his parents wouldn’t let me talk to him, even when I told them that I was pregnant with their grandchild. They insisted that the baby couldn’t possibly be their son’s, that I was a liar who just wanted their money, and they sent me away too. I didn’t know where tae go or what tae do—but then Miss McCulloch, bless her soul, offered to take me in at the orphanage until the baby was born—and that baby was you. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, but I didn’t know what I was going to do to take care of you. I didn’t have a job or any money, and I couldn’t get into contact with your father. For a few days, I thought I was going to have to leave you at the orphanage, since I knew that you would be provided for there, and I wasn’t sure that I would be able to do that for you—but then your father came back. He actually climbed out of his second-story bedroom with a rope in order to come and see me, just like in a fairy tale.” “I’m lucky I didn’t break my own neck–but the risk was worth it, because it was what allowed me to be your father,” his da interjected. 

“I let your father hold you the second he arrived, and he fell in love with you on the spot—but that didn’t solve our problem. Even if we got married and left Kirkcaldy to escape his parents, he didn’t have a job either, and of course he had no money without his parents. We were right in the middle of discussing what we should do when your grandfather stormed into the room. He was all set to drag your father back to their home again—-but when he saw you, it was like something in him melted. He told us that he couldn’t very well let his own grandson starve, and he said that so long as we got married and your father worked his way through college, he would let the three of us stay with him until we could move out on our own. We agreed, of course, and, well…that’s how we became a family.” 

“And Alice?” 

“When you were eighteen and going off to college, your father and I realized that our house would be empty without a child in the house. So we adopted Alice from Miss McCulloch’s orphanage. Not only did it give us another child to love, but it was a way of taking in the child that might have been you, if your father and I had been less lucky, too.” 

“Thanks, mum.” 

“Any time, laddie. Any time.” 

“I think I’m going tae go take a kip now. I guess I haven’t been getting enough sleep, because I’ve been loused all day,”Evan said. 

He really, really hoped that was what had been responsible for all the strange things that had happened today. 

“Good night, Evan.”

“Good night, luv.” “Good night, mum. Good night, da.” With that, Evan made his way to his bedroom, changed into his nightclothes, got into bed, and was soon dead to the world. 

But his rest wasn’t quiet. His sleep was haunted by blood and death and the clutching, grabbing hands of a boy he didn’t know; by memories of a little boy sitting alone in a dark room, wondering why his parents didn’t come for him and memories of an older boy knowing that they never would; by his mum’s dead body, over and over, and, for some reason, by that Mirror Master fellow he’d read about in the news. 

Evan woke up screaming, and, even though he knew it was just a dream, he couldn’t stop himself from checking both his parents’ room, and then Alice’s room, to make sure that they were still all right. 

All of them were totally fine and sleeping soundly, much to his relief, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. As he made his way back to his room, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall—and he did a double take. Instead of reflecting his face, the mirror was reflecting the face of the Mirror Master, complete with the bizarre green mask. 

By this point, Evan was really starting to worry about his sanity. Having weird images pop into your head was one thing; seeing another person’s face in the glass was another. 

Evan looked at his reflection again and found that it had gone back to normal, then shook his head and decided that, since he obviously wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight, he might as well weave some of his own story into the novel he was writing. With that in mind, he went inside his room, pulled out his computer, and started to write. 

But instead of making him feel better, his writing brought him an increasing sense of dread—because the more he wrote of the story that he knew was his, the more it felt like just that—a story. A fairy tale, dreamed up by a little boy with no family. 

More and more, he remembered his other life, the one that had been mostly horrible images yesterday. That life’s story was no fairy tale—or rather, it was a real fairy tale, with blood and guts and horror. It was the story of a wee babe, abandoned on the doorstep because his parents couldn’t afford to take care of him—or maybe just didn’t want to, because he had never met them and didn’t know. The story of a little boy, who believed and believed that his parents would come for him and love him—right up until a monster named Georgie had come into his room at night, and had done horrible things to him, again and again. After that had happened, and especially after he had made sure that Georgie would never be able to do the horrible things to anyone ever again, he had known that they would never come back for him, because no one would love the monster he had become. The story of a young lad, who knew that no one would adopt a teenager, particularly not one with his baggage, who had tried desperately to help Miss McCulloch keep the orphanage up and running, because she had been the only one who loved him and all those other lonely bairns, and who ran away because he was, ultimately, only another mouth to feed. The story of a man—a monster, really—who drifted into worse and worse crimes, in the hope that money or respect or drink or women or drugs would allow him to escape the past he wanted so desperately to forget. And the story of the Mirror Master, something more and less than a man, a creature who wore another man’s mask so that he could chase oblivion. 

It wasn’t the life that he still remembered, and that still felt like his own. It wasn’t the life he wanted—but, as he wrote and wrote, it was clear to him that it was the life that was true. This life—the happy life that he remembered so well—-was the fantasy. 

Evan felt the monster stir inside him. He had no idea who or what had given him this fantasy, this chance to escape his life more thoroughly than he had ever been able to escape it before, but when he found them, he was going to make them pay—because they hadn’t done a good enough job. His real life had still found him and chased him down, just like it always did. 

“Evan? Are you all right?” a little voice asked. Evan turned his face away from his computer to see Alice, in the adorable Cheshire Cat nightgown he remembered buying for her last Christmas—but that’s not real, you know it’s not real—standing in the doorway of his room.

Evan got up out of his chair, walked over to his little sister, and knelt down in front of her. 

“Alice? I…I need tae tell you something.”

“What is it, Evan?”

“I don’t know how tae tell ye this, but…but I think I’m going tae have tae go away.” 

“You mean go back to university?” Alice asked. 

“No, Alice. I’m going tae go away forever. Or you are, maybe. Hard to tell what’s real and what’s the reflection anymore,” Evan replied. 

“Evan, you’re scaring me!” Alice exclaimed. 

“No. No, dinnae be scared. I wouldn’t want that for you. I’ve known you since you were a wean in arms, and I love you more than I think I’ve ever loved anybody. Until I go, or you go, I’ll stay with you. I’ll keep you safe.” 

“Where are you going to go?” Alice asked. 

“To the other side of the looking glass, where you can’t follow—and where you shouldn’t follow. ‘Tis no place for a sweet lassie like you.” 

“Then why are you going there?” 

“Because I don’t have a choice. I lost my chance at a life like this long ago—when I was your age, now that I think about it.” 

“Can I go with you? Maybe I can make that other place better.” 

“NO! No, no, no. Stay here. Stay in this world of innocence. ‘Tis better for you. The other side of the looking glass—it’ll eat innocence alive, and I’m not good enough there to protect you from it.” As Evan spoke, the room around him started to flicker and fade away, but Alice looked as real as she ever had. 

 Was she real? He had never known his parents, but at least knew that they had existed. Did this bairn have a mirror image in his world, like they did?

Suddenly, Evan remembered a letter from Miss McCulloch from a few months back, one that had thanked him for the money he had sent—and one that had mentioned a little girl named Alice, of how much he would have adored her. 

So that was where she had come from. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” 

“Aye. I’m sure. This world’s slipping through my fingers already. I’m just glad that you were the last part to go.” 

“I love you, Evan.” 

“And I love you. So stay here, in the better world.” Alice faded, and flickered, and then she was gone. 

And suddenly, Evan was back to reality; back on the other side of the looking glass. And all he wanted to do was run back to the place he had come from. 

******************************************************************************

“I got it!” the old Flash yelled as he vibrated the Black Mercy plant loose from McCulloch. The second it was free, Len pulled out his Cold Gun and used it to freeze the disgusting thing solid. 

“Axel, do me a favor. The next time you find a mysterious box on the doorstep—-blow it up and save us the trouble.” 

Two seconds later, McCulloch finally snapped out of his trance—and, after looking around the room, collapsed into the nearest rickety chair and started crying. Len stared at him in shock. He had never seen McCulloch cry before. He hadn’t even been sure that he was capable of it. 

The old Flash promptly zipped over to Evan and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Easy there, son. Easy. Are you all right?” 

“Nae. I’m not all right. I want tae go back. Can’t I go back? I don’t hurt anyone there,” Evan wailed. 

“What’s he talking about? Go back where?” Len asked the assembled crowd. 

“Who knows, mate. Sounds to me like the blighter’s lost his mind—not that he ever had more than half of it to begin with,” Digger replied. 

“If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that he’s referring to the dream world that the Black Mercy gave him when it latched onto his chest. Can you imagine being given a world that was everything you had ever wanted—only to have it taken away? Would your initial reaction not be a desire to be returned to that world?” Len winced. 

“No wonder the poor sucker’s so upset,” he muttered. Digger snorted. 

“Is he really so bloody addicted to crack that he cries when it gets taken away?” he sneered. McCulloch, who had been busy sobbing, suddenly fell silent and snapped his eyes to Digger. He stood up out of the chair he’d collapsed into, walked over to Digger, and grabbed him by the scarf. 

“What do ye think I saw, on the other side of the looking glass?” he asked quietly. Digger shrugged. 

“If something gave me a world that fulfilled my deepest desires, I would be rich and famous and have all the food and beer and women I wanted. So far as I can tell, you and I are pretty similar except for you being a bloody cokehead, so you would have had a world with women, beer, money, and about enough cocaine to fill a room,” Digger said. Len didn’t know whether it was funny or pathetic that Digger’s idea of the perfect life was one where he got to sit around and do nothing but feed his appetites, but it definitely wasn’t surprising.

“I dinnae do that stuff no more—but even if I did—--you really thought that a world that was everything I ever wanted would just be cocaine and women?” 

“Wait. Is that not what you saw?” Digger asked. 

“No, you bloody idjit! I saw a family! I was living with a mum and a da who loved me, and a little sister who was more perfect than anything, in a house straight from one of Miss McCulloch’s storybooks. I had a world where I wasn’t abandoned on a doorstep at two days auld, where no one came into the room at night to prey on the wee ones, where I didn’t become a monster when I was eight or a runaway when I was sixteen or a criminal when I was eighteen or the Mirror Master when I was twenty-four! I had a degree and a novel and—and I had my family! I finally had my family—and now it’s gone! It’s gone again, and I’m back in the real world. It was so wonderful—and for all that it was just another drug!” McCulloch punched Digger in the nose, then collapsed into tears again. 

“Oh,” Digger said quietly. It was the closest to sounding ashamed that Len had heard him in a long time—possibly ever. 

“You were left on a doorstep as a baby?” Len blurted out. It suddenly occurred to him that he had known basically nothing about McCulloch’s past until this exact moment. For someone who seemed to love the sound of his own voice, McCulloch was surprisingly good at keeping stuff private. 

“You don’t know your own folks?” Mick asked. 

“Who’s Miss McCulloch, yo?” A few seconds passed before McCulloch managed to pull himself together enough to respond. 

“I was left on the doorstep of Miss McCulloch’s orphanage in a basket when I was two days old. The only things in the basket, besides me, were a picture of my parents and a note that asked Miss McCulloch to “take care of my Evan”. But no last name. Just Evan. So I became Evan McCulloch. Not that I mind the name. Miss McCulloch was a good woman. Tried to be a mother to us all. But I always thought that my parents would come back to me—at least until Georgie came,” McCulloch said flatly. 

“Georgie? Who’s he?” 

“Trust me, Axel—ye dinnae want tae know that story, and I’m not going tae tell it. All you need to know is that after he came and left, I knew no one would ever come for me. And no one ever did. As I got older, the orphanage got more and more rundown, and with all those bairns to take care of, Miss McCulloch didn’t have the dosh to get the place fixed, so I tried to step up. Did what I could to keep the place running—but after awhile, I realized that I was doing more harm than good. I was still another mouth for Miss McCulloch tae feed—so I ran away, thinkin’ I could maybe get a job and support the orphanage without needing to live there. Some joke that was. Couldn’t keep a job to save my life. Just kept drinking and fighting. And then I was a criminal, and I figured I had nothing left tae lose, so I kept going. Enough for me to get a rap as a bloke who solved people’s problems. Enough that when some government high heegins wanted to get rid of Animal Man, a hero type who was causing them problems, they gave me the suit and tech of some bloke called the Mirror Master and told me to go hassle him. But the joke was on them. When my initial attack didn’t rattle him, they told me to kill his wife and kids, and when I told ‘em there was no way I would kill a woman and her weans, they sent someone else to do the job. I managed to ring them in time for Animal Man to save them, and then I dumped my bosses into a mirror dimension and made my weary way to Central City in the hopes of meeting the guy who designed my new tech—which is how I met you lot.” 

“That’s quite a story, son,” the old Flash said softly. 

“Aye, it is. Just like a fairy tale. Not the Disney kind—the real kind. The ones with the blood and death and all. And that fairy tale is why I’m going to find whoever or whatever made me think I’d escaped it and make them pay.” 

“No need for that, son. The creature that presented you with that fantasy life has already been taken care of,” the old Flash said. He pointed at the horrible plant creature.

“Yeah. I put it on ice, and with any luck, we’ll never see another one ever again.” McCulloch stared at the plant in confusion. 

“What is it?” Shade stepped forward. 

“It is an extraterrestrial plant called the Black Mercy, one which functions as a psychic parasite of sorts. When it arrives on an inhabited planet, it latches onto an available host and traps them in a fantasy world based on their deepest desires—-and, at the same time, drains their life force. It was feeding on you, and using your fantasies as a way to keep you docile.” 

“Does that mean if I let the thing latch onto me again, I’d get tae go back?” McCulloch asked. 

“Theoretically, yes, but Mr. McCulloch—the cost of the fantasy world is, eventually, the death of the host’s mind.” 

“‘Tis a fair trade. I’ll die someday no matter what I do—probably sooner than later, with the life I lead. If I’ve got a choice between living out the rest of my days in the world I’ve always wanted and living ‘em out in a world like this—I’ll take the fantasy. I don’t even care if it isn’t real—at least there, I can live with my own reflection! Let Mick unfreeze the beastie for me, and let me go back through the looking glass once and for all.” 

“But Evan, the Shade says that thing’s gonna eat you! I don’t want you to get eaten!” Mick protested. 

“I don’t care what it does! I want tae go back. Please, just let me go back! It’s better for everyone that way. I'll die without all the memories I’ve tried my whole life to escape, the people I’ve hurt will sleep better at night knowing that I’ve finally gotten what’s coming tae me, and I won’t be able tae hurt anyone else ever again,” McCulloch begged. 

“Son, committing suicide isn’t the way to try to make amends,” the old Flash said. 

“What would you know about making amends? You’re perfect, or as close to it as any man can get,” McCulloch exclaimed. 

“Fine, then. Don’t listen to me. Listen to them,” the old Flash said. He gestured towards Len and the other Rogues. 

“McCulloch—kid—-life sucks. I get that. I’ve had my share of hard knocks, and I’ve probably caused just as much trouble as you have, if not more. But I can’t let you kill yourself over it,” Len said awkwardly. 

“Why? Because you don’t want tae lose your key to the Twin Cities?” Evan snapped. Len swore. He’d never been good with feelings….

“I’m not gonna lie to your face, kid. I don’t want to lose our key to the Twin Cities—but I also don’t want to lose you. I like you. I always have, or I’d have never let you into the group–not with Scudder ranting about how you stole his tech. And I don’t want to watch you die from the creepy alien plant monster version of a drug overdose.” 

“I don’t want you to die, either. It was bad enough when my family died in a house fire. And when Roscoe died. And then died again. And then died again. And then—how many times has he died?” Mick asked. 

“Too many. I wish he would finally just stay dead,” Len muttered. 

“Well, I guess that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t want to lose any more family,” Mick said. 

“Family?” McCulloch echoed. 

“Well, yeah. We’ve always been one. It’s why Len hasn’t thrown us out yet for doing stupid stuff.” With that, Mick and Len both turned to look at Axel. 

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” Axel asked. 

“Look, if I have to do feelings, you have to do feelings too. So tell McCulloch you don’t want him to off himself.” 

“Of course I don’t want him to off himself! I couldn’t cause half the trouble I do without him!” Axel paused for a moment. 

“And things just wouldn’t feel right here without him,” he said more softly. Digger, for his part, just shrugged his shoulders. 

“Sam’s my mate, not you—but I guess I would miss having you at bars. You’re the only person I can count on to get drunker than me.” 

Len figured that was as good as anyone was ever going to get from Digger. 

“Like I said, the world’s a crappy place, but you ain’t making it any less crappy by leaving it,” Len said. 

“Not precisely how I would have phrased it, but I certainly agree with the sentiment. As an immortal, I have become painfully aware of how little time most people really have. Life is a precious gift, one that is lost all too easily, and I wouldn’t want to see anyone throw that gift away,” the Shade said. 

The old Flash suddenly re-entered the room, which surprised Len, as he hadn’t realized that the man had left. 

“Very well put, Richard—which is why I decided to take it upon myself to ensure that no one would be able to use the Black Mercy to destroy themselves by having Superman launch it into the sun,” he said. Then he turned to McCulloch. 

“This world can be a mighty terrible place sometimes, son, but it can also be a very beautiful place. You can’t control the bad things that happened to you, and you can’t undo the bad things that you’ve already done—but you can choose to make amends, and to make the world a better place going forward. I won’t pretend that it will be easy, or that you don’t have a lot of amends to make, but you don’t have to let pain define you. You can choose a better life—and that goes for the rest of you, too.” 

“Why would I want to choose a better life, mate? I like my life just the way it is!” Digger asked. The old Flash shook his head. 

“But that choice is up to you. I hope you choose the path that brings you life— meaningful life—but if you don’t, I’ll be there to stop you.”

“That a threat?” Cold asked. 

“Not at all, son.  Just a statement,” the old Flash replied. Then he turned back to Evan. 

“Well, Evan?” McCulloch looked totally bewildered. 

“I suppose I owe ye for saving me—so I’ll give you this. I’ll…think about it. There’s little enough hope for me, after the life I’ve led, but I’ll think about it. And—-and if there’s anybody you know looking for a bairn to love, Miss McCulloch’s got a little girl named Alice who could really use them,” McCulloch said. The old Flash smiled.

“I’ll do everything I can for her, Evan. You have my word on that.” The old Flash disappeared from the room in a streak of scarlet, and then the Shade smiled. 

“Excellent. I look forward to seeing all of you at tea on Monday.” McCulloch stared at him in confusion. 

“Tea?” 

Day 9: “Don’t listen to me, listen to them.” 

When Len walked through the front door of the Rogues’ latest hideout, he was immediately faced with the sight of Axel, Digger, and Mick, all of whom were playing cards and trying very hard to look innocent. Which meant that something had gone horribly wrong while he’d been out buying groceries.

“All right, who screwed up this time?” he asked as he sat the bag of ice cream, instant mac and cheese, canned noodles, and beer on the hideout’s only counter. 

Digger took a swig of his beer stein, which was the size of Axel’s head, before gesturing vaguely to his right. Len looked in that general direction, and saw Evan standing stock-still, like he’d been hypnotized or something. Annoyed, he rounded on Axel.

“What’d I tell you about playin’ with the old junk the Pied Piper left lyin’ around?” 

“I didn’t!” Axel squawked. 

“Then how come our key to the Twin Cities is standing around like a statue?” Mick, Digger, and Axel all exchanged a glance, and then Digger and Axel pointed at each other. 

“It was Digger’s fault!”

“It was the anklebiter’s fault!” Len looked at Mick. Mick shrugged.

“It was probably my fault.” Len reminded himself that, as frustrating as his idiot teammates were, he actually cared about them. As much as he would enjoy impaling all of them on ice spikes right now, he would regret it later. 

“What. Happened?” 

“So, about an hour ago, you went to get the grub. Five minutes after you left, Mark came downstairs in his leather jacket and that awful-smelling stuff that’s not perfume if a guy’s wearing it and told us that he had a date, and then he left, too.” Len groaned. This was what he got for leaving Mardon in charge of anything—although in his defense, Scudder had been in prison for the last six months.

“In other words, the only other sorta-responsible adult left the hideout right after me. So what happened after Mardon went to trawl bars for desperate lonely women?” 

“Uh, I caught Axel opening up one of the beer cans and chased him out of the kitchen.” 

“So not fair. You all drink. Why can’t I drink?” Axel muttered. 

“You’re way underage, kid. That stuff ain’t good for you,” Mick replied. 

“Besides, you’re annoying enough sober,” Len added. 

“Nobody ever lets me have any fun…bunch of old geezers…” Len ignored Axel’s whining. 

“And then?” 

“I was watchin’ football on the telly—real football, not what you Yanks call football—when the little anklebiter came in and tried to grab the remote out of my hands.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to play Grand Theft Auto 5. That’s way more fun than watching soccer.” 

“For the last time, it’s not soccer, it’s football!” 

“I don’t care what it’s called! I just want to know why Evan is participatin’ in a one-man mannequin challenge!” Len snapped. Digger took another swig of beer before continuing. 

“Well, after me and the anklebiter had a wrestling match over the remote, I kicked him out of the room and told him to go bother somebody else.” 

“And I found Evan. The two of us were just getting ready to use the Mirror Realm to track down Mark and prank him on his date when somebody knocked on the door. By the time we made it to the door, nobody was there, but there was a big box that said “Free Money” sitting on the doorstep. That sounded pretty rad, so we picked it up and took it inside.” Len stared at Axel in disbelief. 

“A complete stranger left a box on the doorstep that said “Free Money”, and the two of you actually took it inside?” 

“Well, yeah. Who turns down free money?” 

“And what happened then?” 

“Evan opened the box.” 

“Let me guess. There wasn’t any money inside.” 

“Nope. The second that Evan opened the box, a giant plant monster came out and latched onto his chest. It was really freaky—like the space monster from that really old movie that burst out of that guy’s chest. Anyway, after that happened, I went to get Digger and Mick, and we tried to pull it off him, but it didn’t do any good.” 

“So we, uh, kind of figured we’d just play cards until you came home to fix the problem,” Mick finished. 

“The blighter’s been standin’ there frozen stiff for thirty minutes now,” Digger added. Len took a deep breath. 

“Let me get this straight. McCulloch opened the stupid “Free Money” box, and he was attacked by an alien plant monster that attached itself to his chest?” 

“And then put him in a trance or something, yeah. I lit a match right in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink,” Mick replied. 

“You ain’t supposed to have matches anymore, Mick.” 

“I got it from Digger!” Mick protested. 

Len sighed and went over to examine McCulloch more closely. Sure enough, a wriggly, squirmy mass of something was growing out of his chest. It was hard to really describe, but Len guessed that if he’d had to come up with something, he would’ve said it looked like a cross between a bunch of roses—if roses were black—and an octopus, but much worse than either of those things. It was so wrong that he was having to resist the urge to puke all over the floor. 

That wasn’t the freakiest part, though. The freakiest part was the look on McCulloch’s face, which made it clear that he was, in fact, in a trance. His eyes were open, but they were glazed over and totally unfocused. Whatever McCulloch was looking at, it wasn’t in this room.

 Len snapped his fingers under McCulloch’s nose, but got no response. His body didn’t so much as twitch. It was downright spooky—almost as much as the huge gap-toothed grin on McCulloch’s face. Nobody who had a horrifying plant monster growing out of his chest should be grinning like that. 

“All right, what’d you guys try to use to get the plant off that didn’t work?” 

“I tried using my boomerangs to cut it off, but whatever those bloody tentacles are made of, they’re sturdy. I couldn’t get through ‘em—and trying to use the ‘rangs as a lever to push the thing off didn’t work either.” 

“I used my joybuzzer to electrify it, but that didn’t do any good.” 

“I tried setting it on fire.” 

“You WHAT?” 

“I, uh, tried setting it on fire.” 

“While it was attached to McCulloch?” Mick blushed. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing that the plant wasn’t flammable.” 

“You think?” Len was surrounded by idiots; he really was.

“That wasn’t even the most foolish attempt they made to remove the creature. The young ruffian you work with attached a bomb to the plant, and only Mr. Harkness stopping him from actually activating the bomb kept him from blowing Mr. McCulloch—and quite likely the room— to kingdom come,” a disembodied voice suddenly said.  Len glanced around the room in alarm. 

“Who’s there?” he demanded. The voice laughed, and then a tall, pale man, dressed all in black, literally stepped out of the shadows of the dimly-lit warehouse. 

“Good day, Mr. Snart,” the man said, with a tip of his top hat. 

“Shade. Word on the street was that you were in Opal,” Len said warily. 

“So I was—but that has never stopped me from dropping by to visit the Twin Cities from time to time. I have quite a bit of fondness for this charming metropolis, and even more fondness for its first and greatest defender. And it’s quite fortunate for you that I did—for I know what has attached itself to your friend.” 

“You know what that freaky plant thing is?” Len asked. 

“I do indeed—but information comes at a price.”

“What sorta price?” 

“I would like all of you gentlemen to come to my house for tea next Monday.” Len stared at him in shock. 

“Tea? That’s it? Not cash or jewelry or nothin’?” 

“No, just your company. It does get rather lonesome taking my tea alone in such a great, dark house as mine,” the Shade replied. 

“Well, if that’s what you want, you’ve got yourself a deal. When should we show up?” The Shade smiled. 

“At 4 PM, dear boy. Tea time is always at four,” he said.

“Fine. Then we’ll see you at four Monday.” 

“Excellent.” 

“Wait, what do you mean, we? I’m not drinking tea with no bloody limey!” Digger protested. 

“And I don’t wanna have to waste an afternoon with some top hat-wearing geezer. How old is he, anyway, sixty?” Axel asked. The Shade laughed. 

“Two hundred twelve, actually. I have aged remarkably well.” Mick looked alarmed. 

“You’re not a vampire, are you?” 

“No, my dear boy. I am not.” Mick leaned over to Len.

“That sounds like something a vampire would say. Maybe we shouldn’t go, Len. What if he tries to eat us?” Len rolled his eyes. Idiots. All of them. 

“We’re going to his house for tea, and that’s final!” 

“But—” Axel began. 

“No buts! The three of you got us into this mess, and you’re gonna help get us out of it!” Len exclaimed. Then he turned back to the Shade. 

“Okay. What’s growin’ out of McCulloch’s chest?” The Shade gave him a slight smile, and for a second Len couldn’t help but wonder if the man really was a vampire. Then he shook his head. If the Shade was a vampire, he was pretty sure someone would’ve mentioned it by now. 

“It is, as you seem to have already determined, a plant of extraterrestrial origin, one that visits our humble planet every few decades. It has innumerable names in dozens of alien languages, but I think Krypton provided the most poetic name for the creature. They called it the Dol Gynot—the Black Mercy.” 

“Krypton—like the planet Superman came from?” 

“The very same.”

“You can read alien languages?”

“Of course. Over the course of my immortality, I have had more than enough time to learn several,” the Shade replied. Len decided to file that information to think about later. He had more pressing matters on his hands right now. 

“What does this “Black Mercy” do, exactly?” 

“From what I have ascertained, the Black Mercy is what might be termed a psychic parasite. Upon its arrival on a populated planet, it attaches itself to a sentient host, and provides that host with an immersive dream world, once which represents their deepest desires. While the victim is lost in their dream, the Black Mercy sucks their body dry of its life force, usually over the course of several weeks. Once it has absorbed all it can from its host, it detaches from them and seeks out another victim, leaving only an empty shell behind.” 

“So if we don’t get that thing off him, it’ll kill him?” 

“No. His body will live on—but his mind will be lost forever,” the Shade replied. Axel shuddered. 

“That’s freaky, yo. I sure am glad Evan opened the box and not me.” 

“Axel! That’s an awful thing to say!” Mick exclaimed. 

“What? I don’t want my brains being sucked out by a parasite plant!” Len ignored their bickering. 

“How do we get it off him? I don’t want my key to the Twin Cities to get sucked dry by some alien monster plant.” 

“From my admittedly limited research, removing the Black Mercy from the victim requires either overwhelming brute force, or the use of precisely applied vibratory frequencies, depending on the subspecies of the plant—and, since this appears to be the subspecies that more thoroughly grafts itself to the victim’s body, the latter would be by far the wiser option.” Len started to get that horrible sinking feeling. 

“Does this mean we’re going to have to call the Flash?” 

“Quite so, my dear boy, and cannot say I am disappointed by the prospect. It has been far too long since I last saw my old friend Jay Garrick.” 

Two minutes later, the Shade was on the phone with the speedster, and about thirty seconds after that, the old Flash appeared in the Rogues’ hideout. 

“Good morrow, Jay. It does me good to see you again.” 

“Hello, Richard. What’s the problem?” In response, the Shade pointed his cane at McCulloch. 

“The Black Mercy has returned to Earth.” The old Flash looked alarmed. 

“I remember Superman talking to me about that. Are you sure that that’s what we’re dealing with?” he asked. 

“Very sure. It perfectly matches the one I saw back in 1854,” the Shade replied. 

“And what do you need me to do to get rid of it?” the old Flash asked. 

“I need you to vibrate quickly enough that you separate the Black Mercy from Mr. McCulloch,” the Shade replied. The old Flash looked McCulloch up and down. 

“It’ll take a steady hand, but I should be able to do it.”

“Before you do, old friend, there’s one more thing you need to know.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Part of the cruelty of the Black Mercy is the way in which it co-opts its victims to its own ends. The more deeply immersed Mr. McCulloch is in the fantasy world it has given him, the more difficult you will find it to remove the plant from him.” The old Flash nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“What do you guys think Evan’s seeing?” Mick asked suddenly. Digger snorted. 

“Probably a mountain of cocaine. That, and more money and sheilas than he knows what to do with.” 

******************************************************************************

“Evan, love, would you mind dropping the basket of goodies off at Miss McCulloch’s orphanage for me?”Evan’s mother asked as she mixed the batter for her fern cakes. 

“Of course not, mum. You know I have a soft spot for the wee bairns,” Evan replied. 

“Can I come with ye, Evan? Please? I havenae seen Violet and Mary in forever!” Evan gave his little sister a smile.

“I’d love tae have you, lassie—just so long as you don’t eat all of the biscuits before we even make it to the orphanage.” 

“I won’t! I promise!” Their mum laughed. 

“Have fun, you two—and stay safe!” 

“Dinnae worry, mum. I won’t let anything bad happen to Alice.” Evan grabbed the basket off of the kitchen counter with one hand and took his little sister’s hand with the other, and then the two of them headed out the door of their cottage. It wasn’t very big or very fancy, but it was warm and cozy—and home. Evan wouldn’t have traded it for a palace. 

On their way to Miss McCulloch’s orphanage, Alice stopped every five feet to pick heather and primrose and cow parsley— “I’m going to give Mummy the most beautiful bouquet she’s ever seen!”---and Evan stopped to leaf through a newspaper. It was mostly the same usual aggressive political editorials and dull business reports, but there was a very interesting article on the third page about how the Flash, a superhero from the United States, had defeated a crook who called himself the Mirror Master and could apparently teleport through mirrors. What the article didn’t say, but which was very apparent, was that the bloke was also pure mental. Why else would he dress up in an orange and green leotard? 

Evan forked over a few pounds for the newspaper and folded it up to give to his father later. Da liked to read the news. 

“Come on, Alice, or we’ll be late!” Alice picked one last primrose before running over to him. 

“Wait for me!” she exclaimed. 

As the two of them crossed the little stone bridge that led to the orphanage, they paused for a minute to admire some of the brightly-colored fish swimming in the river below. 

“Look, Evan! There’s a frog!” 

“Want me to catch him so you can kiss him?” Evan teased.

“Eww!” 

“Don’t you listen to Miss McCulloch’s stories? He might turn intae a bonny prince if you kiss him.” Alice wrinkled her nose. 

“I dinnae want to kiss a boy, either—even if he is a prince. Boys are gross.” Evan laughed .

“Aye, that’s be right, Alice. That’d be right.” 

Suddenly, Evan was overwhelmed by an image of himself, as a wee lad, holding another boy under the water of the stream—an image of  desperation, and anger, and fear, most of all. 

“Evan? Are you all right?” Alice’s voice brought him back to himself, and he shook his head to clear it of the horrible image that had just seen.

“Aye, lassie. I’m fine. Just got lost in my thoughts, that’s all.” As Evan and Alice walked up the path that led to the front door of the orphanage, Evan tried to figure out why such a horrible image had popped into his mind. He had plenty of memories of playing around the stream, but he knew that he’d never held someone under the water in it. And who had the other boy been, anyway? He’d never seen anyone like that before in his life.

Maybe it was best not to think of it. Surely everyone had unsettling thoughts or images pop into their minds sometimes. 

Evan rapped on the front door of the orphanage, and it was answered by Miss McCulloch. She smelled like cinnamon and soap, and she was, Evan was convinced, the kindest woman in the whole world, with the possible exception of his mum. She ran the little orphanage like the old lady who lived in a shoe, and she tried to be a mother to all of the bairns who lived there—and all the other bairns in the neighborhood beside.

“Howzitgoan, Miss McCulloch?” Evan asked. 

“Mr. Erickson! What a pleasant surprise! Are you on holiday from university?”

“Aye. GSA’s been hoora good tae me, but it’s nice tae be back home in Kirkcaldy,” Evan replied. 

“And you brought Alice! It’s good tae see you, my dear.” 

“It’s good tae see you too, Miss McCulloch. I didn’t eat any of the sweets this time.” Miss McCulloch laughed. 

“I’m sure you didn’t. Now, why don’t you run along to the playroom? I know Violet and Mary are dying tae see you.” Alice promptly disappeared further into the orphanage, and Miss McCulloch gave Evan a smile. 

“I can’t believe she’s eight years old already.” 

“I know. Neither can I. Seems like just yesterday I was holdin’ her in my arms.” 

“How have your studies been going, Mr. Erickson?” Evan grinned. “Well. After I finish this semester, I’ll have my master’s in creative writing,” he replied .

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Erickson! I’m sure your parents must be very proud,” Miss McCulloch said. 

“They are—and just call me Evan. You’ve known me ever since I was a wee bairn, after all,”Evan replied. 

“All right. Evan it is, then. How is your father’s business?” Evan laughed. 

“It’s doing well, so far as I can tell. I dinnae understand the first thing about finances myself, but he seems happy with how things are going.” 

“And your mother? How is she?” 

“More busy than ever. I dinnae know how she balances all of her charities and her cooking competitions, too.” 

“Well, if you ever figure it out, tell me. Goodness knows I could use a few more hours in the day running the orphanage.” Evan laughed. 

“Trust me, if  I ever learn her secret, you’ll be the first tae know.” He glanced down at the basket he was still holding. 

“Where do ye want this tae go?” he asked. 

“Don’t worry about the basket, Evan. I’ll see that it gets to the kitchen as soon as I’m done visiting with you,” Miss McCulloch replied. Suddenly, another image flashed into Evan’s mind. It was another picture of himself as a wee bairn, but this time, he was even younger than he had been in the last one—maybe four or five at the most—-and he was clinging to what certainly looked like the same basket he was holding now. 

“My mum and da will come back for me, and they’ll love me forever and ever. It’ll be just like in Miss McCulloch’s stories. You’ll see.” 

“Evan? Are you all right?” Miss McCulloch asked. The image—really, it had been more of a memory, even if Evan wasn’t sure how he could have a memory of something that hadn’t happened—faded, and Evan took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Aye. I’m fine. I….I must have really needed this holiday,” he said. Miss McCulloch nodded sympathetically. 

“Why don’t you go find your sister while I get your mum’s goodies to the kitchen?” she asked. Evan nodded gratefully and made his way to the orphanage’s playroom, where his sister was playing dolls with her two best friends. Alice looked up as he came into the room and grinned. 

“Evan, hi! Violet, Mary, this is my big brother, Evan Erickson. He’s home on holiday from university. Evan, these are my best mates, Violet and Mary,” she exclaimed. The two other little girls waved, and Evan waved back. 

“Howzitgoan, lassies? ‘Tis very nice tae meet you—-though Alice has told me so much about you that I feel like I know you already,” he said. 

“Hullo, Evan,” the girl Alice had called Violet said timidly. 

“D’ye want to play with us? We want to play Little Red Riding Hood, and we need someone tae be the Big Bad Wolf,” the other little girl–Mary–asked. 

“And the woodsman, of course,” Alice added. Evan grinned. 

“Of course I will, Alice. Anything tae make you and your friends smile.” 

Evan spent the next hour and a half entertaining his sister and her friends, but when the clock struck six, he realized that he and Alice needed to get back home.

“Alice, we’re going to have tae go now. Like as not, mum has supper waiting for us at home,” he said. Alice bid good-bye to her two friends, and the two of them left the playroom and made their way to the orphanage’s front door. Before they could get there, though, Evan was stopped by Brigit, a red-headed fifteen-year-old who was one of the oldest bairns in the orphanage. 

“Evan, I need tae talk tae ye,” she said. 

“I’m sorry, lassie, but I can’t stay. I need tae get my sister Alice home for supper.” 

In response, Brigit pulled Evan into a storage closet with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible for a girl of her size, and then slammed the door behind them.

“What’s this all about, lassie?” Evan demanded. 

“We missed you so much when you ran away, Evan.” 

“What d’ye mean, when I ran away?” An image of himself, as a lad of about sixteen, climbing the orphanage wall and escaping into the night flashed through his mind. But how could that be? True, he’d spent a lot of time at the orphanage as a bairn, but he hadn’t lived there. 

“I was only five when you left, but I remember your smile. And your laugh. And how you would protect us wee ones when the bigger bairns would pick on us,” Brigit said.

“What are ye–” Evan began. But before he could even get a sentence out, Brigit cut him off. 

“Miss McCulloch was heartbroken when you disappeared, you know. You were the oldest boy at the orphanage when my parents died, and you did a lot of the handiwork to keep the place in shape. Good thing you did, too, because Miss McCulloch never had enough money.” Evan stared at her in confusion. Ever since he could remember, his parents had donated lots of money to Miss McCulloch’s orphanage. It was part of why it was in such good shape. 

But even as Evan thought this, images of the orphanage being run-down, with leaky pipes and broken windows and worn-out furniture, flickered in his mind, accompanied by images of himself trying to fix the sink when it broke and trying his best to retile the roof after a particularly bad storm, because there wasn’t the dosh to pay for a repairman. 

“But then you left—and no one’s seen aught of you but the dosh you send since. Where did you go, Evan?” 

But I didn’t…I didn’t live here. I lived with my mum and da,” Evan protested. He knew it was true. He had so many wonderful memories of his parents, and of Alice. 

But he also had memories of a teenaged boy watching as potential adoptive parents toured the orphanage and knowing that not one of them, not one, would ever consider taking in a sixteen-year-old. 

Which memories were the right ones? 

In a blind panic, he managed to push past Brigit and open the door of the supply closet. Alice was standing outside waiting for him, looking a bit frightened. 

“Evan, what happened?” she asked.

“I dinnae ken, Alice, but I hope I never find out. Let’s get you home tae supper,” he said. After stopping to bid a brief farewell to Miss McCulloch, the two of them left the orphanage, and, thankfully, nothing else weird happened on their way back to their cottage. 

By the time he was handing his da the newspaper and watching his mother cooing over the flowers Alice had gathered for her, Evan had convinced himself that the whole thing must have been the product of his overworked imagination. There was no way that his memories of these wonderful people, of his mum and da and sister, could be the wrong ones. 

“How is Miss McCulloch doing?” his mum asked as they all sat down to eat. 

“She’s busy, of course, but she’s happy. She was hoora pleased to see the basket of goodies you sent,” Evan replied. The image of a wee Evan clutching the basket in the orphanage flickered through his mind again for a brief second, but Evan chased the thought away. It was just his imagination playing tricks on him. Nothing more. 

“And how were Violet and Mary?” Alice grinned.

“They were wonderful, mummy! We had so much fun!” As Alice regaled their parents with the tale of Red Riding Hood and her triumph over the hungry wolf, achieved with the help of a brave woodsman, Evan grinned. How he’d ever lived without his wonderful little sister, he had no idea. 

After supper, and a delicious dessert of fern cakes, Evan and his parents put Alice to bed, and then gathered together in front of the fireplace. As his mother pulled out her knitting needles and his father opened up the whole family’s favorite book, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, a horrible image suddenly forced itself before his mind’s eye—an image of his mum, bled out in a bathtub. 

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

But it felt real, all the same. 

“This is going tae sound a wee bit mental…but mum, could you tell me the story of how I was born? And how we got Alice?” His mother smiled. 

“Do you have another novel planned, Evan?” Evan decided to go along with that idea. It sounded a lot less mental than “I think I’m having memories of a life that never happened”---and he really was in the process of writing his second novel.

“Aye.” 

“Then I’ll give you a refresher on the details. When your father and I were very young—still in secondary school—we fell very deeply in love. We planned to get married as soon as we graduated, but our parents had a different idea. You see, your father’s parents were wealthy, and mine, hardworking though they were, were very poor. No matter what we did, we couldn’t get them to give us their blessings for our marriage—so a week after we finished school, your father and I ran away together. We were young, and foolish, and in love—and, well, one thing led to another, and I got pregnant. Two weeks later, your father’s parents tracked him down and forced him to return home. He insisted that he wanted to stay with me, and that he wanted to be a father to the baby, but his parents ignored him—and when I turned up on my parents doorstep pregnant, they turned me away. They said that I should have known better than to believe the sweet words of a wealthy boy like your father, and that they didn’t have the money to give me or my baby a place to live. After that, I went to your father’s house, but his parents wouldn’t let me talk to him, even when I told them that I was pregnant with their grandchild. They insisted that the baby couldn’t possibly be their son’s, that I was a liar who just wanted their money, and they sent me away too. I didn’t know where tae go or what tae do—but then Miss McCulloch, bless her soul, offered to take me in at the orphanage until the baby was born—and that baby was you. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, but I didn’t know what I was going to do to take care of you. I didn’t have a job or any money, and I couldn’t get into contact with your father. For a few days, I thought I was going to have to leave you at the orphanage, since I knew that you would be provided for there, and I wasn’t sure that I would be able to do that for you—but then your father came back. He actually climbed out of his second-story bedroom with a rope in order to come and see me, just like in a fairy tale.” “I’m lucky I didn’t break my own neck–but the risk was worth it, because it was what allowed me to be your father,” his da interjected. 

“I let your father hold you the second he arrived, and he fell in love with you on the spot—but that didn’t solve our problem. Even if we got married and left Kirkcaldy to escape his parents, he didn’t have a job either, and of course he had no money without his parents. We were right in the middle of discussing what we should do when your grandfather stormed into the room. He was all set to drag your father back to their home again—-but when he saw you, it was like something in him melted. He told us that he couldn’t very well let his own grandson starve, and he said that so long as we got married and your father worked his way through college, he would let the three of us stay with him until we could move out on our own. We agreed, of course, and, well…that’s how we became a family.” 

“And Alice?” 

“When you were eighteen and going off to college, your father and I realized that our house would be empty without a child in the house. So we adopted Alice from Miss McCulloch’s orphanage. Not only did it give us another child to love, but it was a way of taking in the child that might have been you, if your father and I had been less lucky, too.” 

“Thanks, mum.” 

“Any time, laddie. Any time.” 

“I think I’m going tae go take a kip now. I guess I haven’t been getting enough sleep, because I’ve been loused all day,”Evan said. 

He really, really hoped that was what had been responsible for all the strange things that had happened today. 

“Good night, Evan.”

“Good night, luv.” “Good night, mum. Good night, da.” With that, Evan made his way to his bedroom, changed into his nightclothes, got into bed, and was soon dead to the world. 

But his rest wasn’t quiet. His sleep was haunted by blood and death and the clutching, grabbing hands of a boy he didn’t know; by memories of a little boy sitting alone in a dark room, wondering why his parents didn’t come for him and memories of an older boy knowing that they never would; by his mum’s dead body, over and over, and, for some reason, by that Mirror Master fellow he’d read about in the news. 

Evan woke up screaming, and, even though he knew it was just a dream, he couldn’t stop himself from checking both his parents’ room, and then Alice’s room, to make sure that they were still all right. 

All of them were totally fine and sleeping soundly, much to his relief, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. As he made his way back to his room, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall—and he did a double take. Instead of reflecting his face, the mirror was reflecting the face of the Mirror Master, complete with the bizarre green mask. 

By this point, Evan was really starting to worry about his sanity. Having weird images pop into your head was one thing; seeing another person’s face in the glass was another. 

Evan looked at his reflection again and found that it had gone back to normal, then shook his head and decided that, since he obviously wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight, he might as well weave some of his own story into the novel he was writing. With that in mind, he went inside his room, pulled out his computer, and started to write. 

But instead of making him feel better, his writing brought him an increasing sense of dread—because the more he wrote of the story that he knew was his, the more it felt like just that—a story. A fairy tale, dreamed up by a little boy with no family. 

More and more, he remembered his other life, the one that had been mostly horrible images yesterday. That life’s story was no fairy tale—or rather, it was a real fairy tale, with blood and guts and horror. It was the story of a wee babe, abandoned on the doorstep because his parents couldn’t afford to take care of him—or maybe just didn’t want to, because he had never met them and didn’t know. The story of a little boy, who believed and believed that his parents would come for him and love him—right up until a monster named Georgie had come into his room at night, and had done horrible things to him, again and again. After that had happened, and especially after he had made sure that Georgie would never be able to do the horrible things to anyone ever again, he had known that they would never come back for him, because no one would love the monster he had become. The story of a young lad, who knew that no one would adopt a teenager, particularly not one with his baggage, who had tried desperately to help Miss McCulloch keep the orphanage up and running, because she had been the only one who loved him and all those other lonely bairns, and who ran away because he was, ultimately, only another mouth to feed. The story of a man—a monster, really—who drifted into worse and worse crimes, in the hope that money or respect or drink or women or drugs would allow him to escape the past he wanted so desperately to forget. And the story of the Mirror Master, something more and less than a man, a creature who wore another man’s mask so that he could chase oblivion. 

It wasn’t the life that he still remembered, and that still felt like his own. It wasn’t the life he wanted—but, as he wrote and wrote, it was clear to him that it was the life that was true. This life—the happy life that he remembered so well—-was the fantasy. 

Evan felt the monster stir inside him. He had no idea who or what had given him this fantasy, this chance to escape his life more thoroughly than he had ever been able to escape it before, but when he found them, he was going to make them pay—because they hadn’t done a good enough job. His real life had still found him and chased him down, just like it always did. 

“Evan? Are you all right?” a little voice asked. Evan turned his face away from his computer to see Alice, in the adorable Cheshire Cat nightgown he remembered buying for her last Christmas—but that’s not real, you know it’s not real—standing in the doorway of his room.

Evan got up out of his chair, walked over to his little sister, and knelt down in front of her. 

“Alice? I…I need tae tell you something.”

“What is it, Evan?”

“I don’t know how tae tell ye this, but…but I think I’m going tae have tae go away.” 

“You mean go back to university?” Alice asked. 

“No, Alice. I’m going tae go away forever. Or you are, maybe. Hard to tell what’s real and what’s the reflection anymore,” Evan replied. 

“Evan, you’re scaring me!” Alice exclaimed. 

“No. No, dinnae be scared. I wouldn’t want that for you. I’ve known you since you were a wean in arms, and I love you more than I think I’ve ever loved anybody. Until I go, or you go, I’ll stay with you. I’ll keep you safe.” 

“Where are you going to go?” Alice asked. 

“To the other side of the looking glass, where you can’t follow—and where you shouldn’t follow. ‘Tis no place for a sweet lassie like you.” 

“Then why are you going there?” 

“Because I don’t have a choice. I lost my chance at a life like this long ago—when I was your age, now that I think about it.” 

“Can I go with you? Maybe I can make that other place better.” 

“NO! No, no, no. Stay here. Stay in this world of innocence. ‘Tis better for you. The other side of the looking glass—it’ll eat innocence alive, and I’m not good enough there to protect you from it.” As Evan spoke, the room around him started to flicker and fade away, but Alice looked as real as she ever had. 

 Was she real? He had never known his parents, but at least knew that they had existed. Did this bairn have a mirror image in his world, like they did?

Suddenly, Evan remembered a letter from Miss McCulloch from a few months back, one that had thanked him for the money he had sent—and one that had mentioned a little girl named Alice, of how much he would have adored her. 

So that was where she had come from. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” 

“Aye. I’m sure. This world’s slipping through my fingers already. I’m just glad that you were the last part to go.” 

“I love you, Evan.” 

“And I love you. So stay here, in the better world.” Alice faded, and flickered, and then she was gone. 

And suddenly, Evan was back to reality; back on the other side of the looking glass. And all he wanted to do was run back to the place he had come from. 

******************************************************************************

“I got it!” the old Flash yelled as he vibrated the Black Mercy plant loose from McCulloch. The second it was free, Len pulled out his Cold Gun and used it to freeze the disgusting thing solid. 

“Axel, do me a favor. The next time you find a mysterious box on the doorstep—-blow it up and save us the trouble.” 

Two seconds later, McCulloch finally snapped out of his trance—and, after looking around the room, collapsed into the nearest rickety chair and started crying. Len stared at him in shock. He had never seen McCulloch cry before. He hadn’t even been sure that he was capable of it. 

The old Flash promptly zipped over to Evan and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Easy there, son. Easy. Are you all right?” 

“Nae. I’m not all right. I want tae go back. Can’t I go back? I don’t hurt anyone there,” Evan wailed. 

“What’s he talking about? Go back where?” Len asked the assembled crowd. 

“Who knows, mate. Sounds to me like the blighter’s lost his mind—not that he ever had more than half of it to begin with,” Digger replied. 

“If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that he’s referring to the dream world that the Black Mercy gave him when it latched onto his chest. Can you imagine being given a world that was everything you had ever wanted—only to have it taken away? Would your initial reaction not be a desire to be returned to that world?” Len winced. 

“No wonder the poor sucker’s so upset,” he muttered. Digger snorted. 

“Is he really so bloody addicted to crack that he cries when it gets taken away?” he sneered. McCulloch, who had been busy sobbing, suddenly fell silent and snapped his eyes to Digger. He stood up out of the chair he’d collapsed into, walked over to Digger, and grabbed him by the scarf. 

“What do ye think I saw, on the other side of the looking glass?” he asked quietly. Digger shrugged. 

“If something gave me a world that fulfilled my deepest desires, I would be rich and famous and have all the food and beer and women I wanted. So far as I can tell, you and I are pretty similar except for you being a bloody cokehead, so you would have had a world with women, beer, money, and about enough cocaine to fill a room,” Digger said. Len didn’t know whether it was funny or pathetic that Digger’s idea of the perfect life was one where he got to sit around and do nothing but feed his appetites, but it definitely wasn’t surprising.

“I dinnae do that stuff no more—but even if I did—--you really thought that a world that was everything I ever wanted would just be cocaine and women?” 

“Wait. Is that not what you saw?” Digger asked. 

“No, you bloody idjit! I saw a family! I was living with a mum and a da who loved me, and a little sister who was more perfect than anything, in a house straight from one of Miss McCulloch’s storybooks. I had a world where I wasn’t abandoned on a doorstep at two days auld, where no one came into the room at night to prey on the wee ones, where I didn’t become a monster when I was eight or a runaway when I was sixteen or a criminal when I was eighteen or the Mirror Master when I was twenty-four! I had a degree and a novel and—and I had my family! I finally had my family—and now it’s gone! It’s gone again, and I’m back in the real world. It was so wonderful—and for all that it was just another drug!” McCulloch punched Digger in the nose, then collapsed into tears again. 

“Oh,” Digger said quietly. It was the closest to sounding ashamed that Len had heard him in a long time—possibly ever. 

“You were left on a doorstep as a baby?” Len blurted out. It suddenly occurred to him that he had known basically nothing about McCulloch’s past until this exact moment. For someone who seemed to love the sound of his own voice, McCulloch was surprisingly good at keeping stuff private. 

“You don’t know your own folks?” Mick asked. 

“Who’s Miss McCulloch, yo?” A few seconds passed before McCulloch managed to pull himself together enough to respond. 

“I was left on the doorstep of Miss McCulloch’s orphanage in a basket when I was two days old. The only things in the basket, besides me, were a picture of my parents and a note that asked Miss McCulloch to “take care of my Evan”. But no last name. Just Evan. So I became Evan McCulloch. Not that I mind the name. Miss McCulloch was a good woman. Tried to be a mother to us all. But I always thought that my parents would come back to me—at least until Georgie came,” McCulloch said flatly. 

“Georgie? Who’s he?” 

“Trust me, Axel—ye dinnae want tae know that story, and I’m not going tae tell it. All you need to know is that after he came and left, I knew no one would ever come for me. And no one ever did. As I got older, the orphanage got more and more rundown, and with all those bairns to take care of, Miss McCulloch didn’t have the dosh to get the place fixed, so I tried to step up. Did what I could to keep the place running—but after awhile, I realized that I was doing more harm than good. I was still another mouth for Miss McCulloch tae feed—so I ran away, thinkin’ I could maybe get a job and support the orphanage without needing to live there. Some joke that was. Couldn’t keep a job to save my life. Just kept drinking and fighting. And then I was a criminal, and I figured I had nothing left tae lose, so I kept going. Enough for me to get a rap as a bloke who solved people’s problems. Enough that when some government high heegins wanted to get rid of Animal Man, a hero type who was causing them problems, they gave me the suit and tech of some bloke called the Mirror Master and told me to go hassle him. But the joke was on them. When my initial attack didn’t rattle him, they told me to kill his wife and kids, and when I told ‘em there was no way I would kill a woman and her weans, they sent someone else to do the job. I managed to ring them in time for Animal Man to save them, and then I dumped my bosses into a mirror dimension and made my weary way to Central City in the hopes of meeting the guy who designed my new tech—which is how I met you lot.” 

“That’s quite a story, son,” the old Flash said softly. 

“Aye, it is. Just like a fairy tale. Not the Disney kind—the real kind. The ones with the blood and death and all. And that fairy tale is why I’m going to find whoever or whatever made me think I’d escaped it and make them pay.” 

“No need for that, son. The creature that presented you with that fantasy life has already been taken care of,” the old Flash said. He pointed at the horrible plant creature.

“Yeah. I put it on ice, and with any luck, we’ll never see another one ever again.” McCulloch stared at the plant in confusion. 

“What is it?” Shade stepped forward. 

“It is an extraterrestrial plant called the Black Mercy, one which functions as a psychic parasite of sorts. When it arrives on an inhabited planet, it latches onto an available host and traps them in a fantasy world based on their deepest desires—-and, at the same time, drains their life force. It was feeding on you, and using your fantasies as a way to keep you docile.” 

“Does that mean if I let the thing latch onto me again, I’d get tae go back?” McCulloch asked. 

“Theoretically, yes, but Mr. McCulloch—the cost of the fantasy world is, eventually, the death of the host’s mind.” 

“‘Tis a fair trade. I’ll die someday no matter what I do—probably sooner than later, with the life I lead. If I’ve got a choice between living out the rest of my days in the world I’ve always wanted and living ‘em out in a world like this—I’ll take the fantasy. I don’t even care if it isn’t real—at least there, I can live with my own reflection! Let Mick unfreeze the beastie for me, and let me go back through the looking glass once and for all.” 

“But Evan, the Shade says that thing’s gonna eat you! I don’t want you to get eaten!” Mick protested. 

“I don’t care what it does! I want tae go back. Please, just let me go back! It’s better for everyone that way. I'll die without all the memories I’ve tried my whole life to escape, the people I’ve hurt will sleep better at night knowing that I’ve finally gotten what’s coming tae me, and I won’t be able tae hurt anyone else ever again,” McCulloch begged. 

“Son, committing suicide isn’t the way to try to make amends,” the old Flash said. 

“What would you know about making amends? You’re perfect, or as close to it as any man can get,” McCulloch exclaimed. 

“Fine, then. Don’t listen to me. Listen to them,” the old Flash said. He gestured towards Len and the other Rogues. 

“McCulloch—kid—-life sucks. I get that. I’ve had my share of hard knocks, and I’ve probably caused just as much trouble as you have, if not more. But I can’t let you kill yourself over it,” Len said awkwardly. 

“Why? Because you don’t want tae lose your key to the Twin Cities?” Evan snapped. Len swore. He’d never been good with feelings….

“I’m not gonna lie to your face, kid. I don’t want to lose our key to the Twin Cities—but I also don’t want to lose you. I like you. I always have, or I’d have never let you into the group–not with Scudder ranting about how you stole his tech. And I don’t want to watch you die from the creepy alien plant monster version of a drug overdose.” 

“I don’t want you to die, either. It was bad enough when my family died in a house fire. And when Roscoe died. And then died again. And then died again. And then—how many times has he died?” Mick asked. 

“Too many. I wish he would finally just stay dead,” Len muttered. 

“Well, I guess that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t want to lose any more family,” Mick said. 

“Family?” McCulloch echoed. 

“Well, yeah. We’ve always been one. It’s why Len hasn’t thrown us out yet for doing stupid stuff.” With that, Mick and Len both turned to look at Axel. 

“What are you lookin’ at me for?” Axel asked. 

“Look, if I have to do feelings, you have to do feelings too. So tell McCulloch you don’t want him to off himself.” 

“Of course I don’t want him to off himself! I couldn’t cause half the trouble I do without him!” Axel paused for a moment. 

“And things just wouldn’t feel right here without him,” he said more softly. Digger, for his part, just shrugged his shoulders. 

“Sam’s my mate, not you—but I guess I would miss having you at bars. You’re the only person I can count on to get drunker than me.” 

Len figured that was as good as anyone was ever going to get from Digger. 

“Like I said, the world’s a crappy place, but you ain’t making it any less crappy by leaving it,” Len said. 

“Not precisely how I would have phrased it, but I certainly agree with the sentiment. As an immortal, I have become painfully aware of how little time most people really have. Life is a precious gift, one that is lost all too easily, and I wouldn’t want to see anyone throw that gift away,” the Shade said. 

The old Flash suddenly re-entered the room, which surprised Len, as he hadn’t realized that the man had left. 

“Very well put, Richard—which is why I decided to take it upon myself to ensure that no one would be able to use the Black Mercy to destroy themselves by having Superman launch it into the sun,” he said. Then he turned to McCulloch. 

“This world can be a mighty terrible place sometimes, son, but it can also be a very beautiful place. You can’t control the bad things that happened to you, and you can’t undo the bad things that you’ve already done—but you can choose to make amends, and to make the world a better place going forward. I won’t pretend that it will be easy, or that you don’t have a lot of amends to make, but you don’t have to let pain define you. You can choose a better life—and that goes for the rest of you, too.” 

“Why would I want to choose a better life, mate? I like my life just the way it is!” Digger asked. The old Flash shook his head. 

“But that choice is up to you. I hope you choose the path that brings you life— meaningful life—but if you don’t, I’ll be there to stop you.”

“That a threat?” Cold asked. 

“Not at all, son.  Just a statement,” the old Flash replied. Then he turned back to Evan. 

“Well, Evan?” McCulloch looked totally bewildered. 

“I suppose I owe ye for saving me—so I’ll give you this. I’ll…think about it. There’s little enough hope for me, after the life I’ve led, but I’ll think about it. And—-and if there’s anybody you know looking for a bairn to love, Miss McCulloch’s got a little girl named Alice who could really use them,” McCulloch said. The old Flash smiled.

“I’ll do everything I can for her, Evan. You have my word on that.” The old Flash disappeared from the room in a streak of scarlet, and then the Shade smiled. 

“Excellent. I look forward to seeing all of you at tea on Monday.” McCulloch stared at him in confusion. 

“Tea?” 

[maibeewrites]

ULTRAVIOLENT || Chibs Telford x Y/N

part II. and you'r my cult leader

The next day she woke up with a horrible headache. But she couldn't rest at home, she awoke to a call from Tig. Church meeting.

Well, just what Y/N needed. From the moment she woke up, the only thing she could think about was the night before. The pain of it all, her betrayal, Chibs's betrayal. How he hit her. And how he took care of her after. But it didn't matter. If she ever had hopes for her and him, after last night, it was all gone.

Walking into the bathroom she looked in the mirror. She was taken aback by how bad she looked. Her eyes were bruised from her eyebrows down until her cheeks. Above her right eye there was a cut, which turned into a scab overnight. The same on her lips. She cleaned herself up and put clean stitches over it. Her whole face was swollen.

After the shower, she dried her hair, and whilst drinking a cup of tea and smoking a cigarette, she held a bag of frozen peas over her face, hoping to reduce the swelling. She didn't ever bother with makeup, knowing that her condition was far from concealable.

She put on a pair of skinny brown jeans, and a loose cream colored turtleneck blouse, put on her cut, and after completing her outfit with black boots, she was out the door.

She arrived just on time. Usually she is always early, but she didn't want to spend more time at the clubhouse today than it was necessary.

When she walked in, all of them were at the bar. Jax, Tig, Happy, Quinn, Bobby, Juice, Opie and Chibs. The prospects were cleaning up.

When they first saw her, everyone got quiet for a second.

"Holy shit." Jax exclaimed "Who did this to you?"

"Girl, are you okay?" asked Tig, and he quickly walked up to her and held Y/N's face gently in his hands.

"Yes Tigger. I'm okay guys. This was some personal stuff, there is nothing to worry about." She tried to sound as convincing and confident as she could.

"That is certainly a thing we should be worried about" said Bobby.

"The person who did this to you is an animal. That is all that I'm saying." Quinn spoke. Even Happy looked concerned.

Opie and Juice didn't say anything but were very conflicted. Opie hugged her shoulders as they went in to the Table.

Chibs haven't said a word. He didn't even look her in the eye.

"So, before we talk about what is on our plate with the Mayans, Y/N, you have to tell us what happened. Who hurt you?" Jax asked.

They all nodded and turned to her.

"This was personal business, and I do not wish to tell you just now. I can't tell you, trust me." She looked Jax straight in the eye, with a knowing look. At first Jax just stared at her, but after some monent, she could see that he finally understood what happened. After all, Jax and Chibs were the only one knowing about the ratting. Jax glanced at Chibs who was continuously staring at a specific part of the table in front of him. He then looked back at Jax, and the President understood everything.

"Fine. I respect that Y/N."

"But that is not okay? Somebody hurt her. Who was it? A lover maybe?" Tig guessed.

"He is right, we have to protect her" Juice added.

Y/N chuckled at Juice's suggestion that she needs protection, but smiled at him. She loved Juice, he was so cute, like a little brother to her.

"If pres said to leave it, leave it." Chibs finally looked up and at Y/N. His voice was strict.

After that, the subject changes to Alvarez getting into the Diosa business. They all voted aye for allowing the mexican to buy out Nero's part.

"And guys, I have some good news. We will have a big party tonight. We are all set, things going okay for now. Everyone, wind down, have fun." Jax said and hit the table with the gavel.

Y/N didn't want to spend her time at the clubhouse. She almost immediately got up, and left.

Honestly, the only thing Y/N wanted was to lay in her bed, eat some ice cream, watch a movie and fall asleep. Luckily, there was no more club business for that day, so she went to the grocery store before heading home, where she bought some frozen pizzas, and ice cream. She rode home and was all set for the day.

She took another shower. There was something about feeling clean. She put on a new set of baby pink pyjamas, and crawled into her bed. She got overwhelmed by the tv selection, and after finding nothing she was in the mood for, she started watching a documentary about cheetahs.

She tried her best to pay attention to the hunting method of the animals, or her ice cream, or anything which was not Chibs, but she couldn't. She never wanted to see him again. At the same time all she wanted was him.

When she finished her sweets and put the spoon in the dishwasher, she heard knocking.

She froze. She didn't expect anyone. Her gun was in her bedroom, and her semi was near the front entrance of the house on the coat hanger.

By the time she thought of a solution, it didn't matter.

"Aye, it's me girl. Let me in, I want to talk to ya." It was Chibs. Y/N felt like her heart skipped a beat.

She walked up to the front door.

"What do you want?" She spoke softly, just loud enough for the man outside to hear.

"Let me in. I just want to check up on you." She couldn't figure out Chibs's intentions. It dawned on her, that she was scared. Scared of her friend, brother... She felt incredibly weak and bitter.

"Y/N?"

"I'm scared." That was her response.

------------Chibs' POV----------

"I'm scared." Her voice was so weak, so soft, he could hear the fear and it crushed him. She was everything. The most amazing, interesting, caring and smart women he has ever known. She made a mistake, she had to pay. Or maybe he was too harsh?

He felt as if his heart was sinking to the deepest void.

"Please sweetheart. Let me in, I am not here to hurt you. I just want to..." But what did he want? Himself didn't even know. "I just want to see you."

The door slowly, very slowly opened. Her small frame seemed even smaller now. Barefoot, with her pink pyjamas she was like a little girl. Only little girls don't have their faced wrecked by big bad bikers.

Chibs walked into the house. When he heard the door close behind him, he straight up walked up to Y/N who instantly stepped back until her back hit the wall.

"Don't." He said and embraced her in his arms. At first she froze but then put her arms around him. She smelled like fresh bodywash, clean bedsheets and candy. She was so pure at that moment.

------------------

He smelled like tobacco, gasoline and dirt. His strong arms somehow calmed Y/N down.

"I'm here." She said.

"And so am I. I am sorry, I shouldn't have done this to you."

"No, if you haven't done this, maybe somebody else would've done even worse. I could be dead, Chibs. For what I've done."

He didn't reply. Instead, he picked her up, initially in bridal style, but she eagerly put her legs around his waist.

They looked each other in the eye, and then Y/N caressed Chibs's glasgow smile.

"Take me to bed."

[entercarolinej]

You Know My Ways, I Know Your Fears

Steve x reader | Stranger Things S3 | part 1 of ???

title from Go For It by Djo

Steve had figured out that Robin was gay. It was obvious by the tense, zoned-out way she reacted whenever an especially hot girl came into Scoops Ahoy to buy ice cream. Maybe not obvious to everybody, but Steve noticed things. He and Robin caught each other checking out a pair of legs in Nikes and a miniskirt and with a double take, a soft “oh?…Oh.” from Steve, and a breathless pause from Robin, he signaled his acceptance with a congenial nod and thumbs up. I mean, I get it, he thought. Nothing more had to be said–from then on, they developed a semi-sarcastic code of tongue clicks, raised eyebrows, and subtle smirks to indicate approaching ‘babes’. It made the dopey mall job tolerable. Sometimes they’d rate the customers from 1-10, bickering endlessly about each other’s taste in women. Steve’s heart wasn’t really in it but now that he had picked up on Robin’s secret, she was laying off him–a little–and it felt like maybe they were bonding. 

When he was above his elbows in soapy water scrubbing ice cream drums, commiserating with Robin about the horrible, horrible uniforms, or doling out sticky, creamy scoops of cotton candy, mint chocolate chip, and USS Butterscotch, Steve felt almost normal. The monsters ripping through his every night’s dreams until he could smell their putrid breath, see the glint on their endless rows of lethal teeth, and feel their unearthly screams rattling every bone in his body didn’t feel as real. 

Sometimes he was alone in the tunnels under the pumpkin patch, rooted to the spot, forced to watch the dim outline of a demogorgon barreling towards him until its faceless petals opened up and the last thing he’d see was them closing around his own head. Other times he’d be in the junkyard and somebody from the Party–Max, Nancy, or Dustin, Dustin, would be in the distance, about to succumb to the same fate. “STEVE! Help me! Steve PLEASE!” they’d scream, and he’d be sprinting as hard as he could but no matter how fast he forced his legs and lungs to move, he never got any closer and he had to watch his friends crumple under the brutal, silvery figure. Sometimes he was watching the pool through his bedroom window, body completely paralyzed, Nancy gone, as Barb was dragged into Hell, her fingers clawing against rough concrete. Steve dreaded sleep. His giant, lonely house had plenty of room for the nightmares to swoop in and find Steve. But at Scoops, sometimes, there was enough normal life happening around him that he could forget for a little while. Steve was grateful. 

Your mall job was also an escape, but for totally different reasons. Starcourt opening was a reason to leave the house and think about something other than your family. 

You knew most of your peers, despite their various responsibilities, carved out time for partying and thrill seeking on weekends, blissfully aware that any youthful mistakes could be laughed off or easily smoothed over within the structure of a family with a comfortable income and two functioning grown-ups. You couldn’t do that. You’d watch soaps with Mom in the evenings while doing homework, make sure she got her peppermint tea and her medication and her little comforts and routines that kept her tethered to reality, make sure Tews was fed and cuddled, and covertly stay awake until your brother returned home so that no matter what happened, there’d be someone to answer the phone and help fix whatever trouble he got into, just in case. It was enough. It had to be. If you didn’t, nobody would. 

Summer was a good time to work. No school, so you could have more daytime hours without leaving Mom home alone too long. Starcourt Mall had been a highly anticipated employment opportunity at Hawkins High. Everyone speculated about the kinds and numbers of stores to be opened, the coolest places to work, the best jobs for hooking up, and the most valuable perks. First grab at the new releases at the music store? Rad. All the leftover popcorn and soda you could eat at the movie theater? Also rad. 

You ended up in the major department store’s home goods section. Not sexy or cool, at all. Your co-workers were middle-aged women looking for something to keep them busy, and your customers were their counterparts who didn’t want or need employment but were eager to drop mind-boggling sums on opulent tablescapes for every possible new occasion. By the end of June, you already saw white stars and red stripes every time you closed your eyes. Even so, you had to admit to yourself that you liked the job.

“Sweetheart, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of some glass candlesticks?” 

The voice was a welcome interruption to the constant drone of Muzak in your ears. You looked over your shoulder from where you were tucking throw pillows just so in the wooden display rack into a smiling, beautifully made-up face.  

“Oh, it’s you! I didn’t know you got a job here, good for you!” The woman stepped closer, her words gushing up and down as she bestowed an elegant, congratulatory shove on your elbow. A fresh floral perfume swept through your lungs, displacing the vaguely spiced waxiness that hung in the air from shelves upon shelves of every-colored candles and paper bags of potpourri. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler. Yep, I sure did,” you responded, trying to tuck your hair away and straighten your puffy sleeves, a bit self-conscious in the presence of her perfectly curated and executed look. You particularly noticed her beautiful pair of chunky gold hoop earrings with pearls dangling below them and wondered if you could find a costume version somewhere that would look similar. 

“This job must be so dangerous,” Karen Wheeler continued her amiable teasing. “I’m sure I could spend a whole paycheck here every day, and I bet you get to see all the new stuff before anybody!”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You smiled. “They send us pictures of how the new displays are supposed to look, and it’s pretty fun to get everything all set up just right. And Mom is definitely enjoying my employee discount,” you added with a wink, knowing just how to intrigue the target demographic of your place of employment. 

“Ooh, I feel like I’m getting the inside scoop!” Karen giggled, before concern washed over her cheerful features. She hesitated, then added in a more serious tone: “How is Claudia these days?”

You bit back a sigh. “Aw, thanks for asking. She’s doing well, keeping busy with the garden and training the cat!” you said, with a flat brightness. 

“Ah, that’s great.” Karen said, nodding, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, as she stared into yours for a little too long.

“Yeah, um, how are your kids doing? Is Nancy going to get a job at the mall, too?” You pivoted, casually going back to reorganizing and fluffing throw pillows.

“You know, I think I’m just going to have to be jealous of you and your mother with that employee discount! That girl can’t think of anything else but the paper,” Karen said, with an appeasing wink. You felt a familiar twinge of envy for Nancy, the girl who could do anything she wanted, neither caring nor needing to worry about how her family would fare. 

Perhaps Karen noticed the slight stiffness settling between you. She picked up a throw pillow and began to awkwardly knead it between her jeweled, manicured fingers. “You know, I have to tell you, that little brother of yours is really something,” she confided. 

You relaxed a little. “Oh boy, I hope he behaved himself at your house for that last sleepover.” 

“Oh goodness, you know they can all act like such wild things together,” chuckled Karen. “Ted moans and groans, but you know, I like having them all around. Keeps me young! But that Dustin, I mean, he’s always so sweet to my little Holly. I think she’d rather have him for a brother than Mike.” 

Your customer service smile became a true, fond smirk. “Dustin’s a great kid. But don’t tell him I said that!” 

Karen laughed conspiratorially with you, tapping her nose, then pointing at you. 

“Oh! Um, you asked about glass candlesticks. Actually, I just put a new shipment out this morning before we opened, I think you’ll have first pick! Just over there, around the back of that candle kiosk,” you directed. 

“Yes, yes, thank you sweetie! It was great catching up with you, and please give my mother your best.” Karen patted your arm and moved away to continue browsing. 

You liked these little run-ins with the parents of your peers, probably more than you should. Grown up conversations were easier to navigate than fellow teenage ones. It helped to pass the time at work. Occasionally, as you rang up their purchases and carefully wrapped them in endless sheets of shiny tissue paper, you’d be asked to babysit one of the younger girls like little Holly or Erica Sinclair. You always accepted, gratefully, as long as they promised not to be out too late.

Maybe you had a little too much in common with the mothers of your little brother’s friends. You knew they would murmur to each other when they thought you couldn’t hear. You were labeled things like “such a nice girl,” “so mature,” “an old soul.” You knew that was all code for “one of the most boring high schoolers to ever exist.” And that probably wasn’t wrong. 

Your kind of “fun” was a brief stop at Scoops Ahoy after your shift at the department store. Normally, you’d have to head home and make sure Mom and Dustin ate something, but with Dustin away at camp, you didn’t feel so rushed. You’d always had a sweet tooth and the USS Butterscotch was nothing short of a flavor revelation. It didn’t hurt that Steve Harrington would greet you by name and you’d get a glimpse of his uniform. How could a cheesy sailor suit look so stupid and yet so cute, you always wondered. Maybe because it felt like it leveled the field a little, and a guy surviving a little involuntary humiliation with good humor was...attractive. You were a wallflower, not blind.

You wondered if maybe you’d thought to apply here instead of the department store, would that be you in a coordinated sailor suit, slinging banter like scoops of ice cream with Steve? Behind her band-nerd smartass school persona, you knew Robin Buckley was bubbly and funny and you tried to convince yourself you weren’t jealous of how much time she got to spend around Steve. 

Why can’t that be me? you’d wonder. It came so easily to other people, the casual insults, brushes of physical touch, and flying innuendos that seemed totally naturalized between good friends but utterly foreign to you. You knew that Steve and Robin had never been close before, but you watched them work side by side, communicating in shoulder shoves, hand grabs, and muttered barbs of dingus or dipshit that weren’t supposed to be overheard by customers. 

You wished you had that kind of mutual affection and security with somebody. Being a high school student moonlighting as a single parent was lonely. As glad as you were that nobody could describe Dustin as lonely, you had to admit it was confusing and even painful to see even him enjoying a mysteriously close, nearly co-dependent friendship with someone whose breezy popularity you had once envied so much, none other than Steve Fucking Harrington. It defied explanation.

Dustin’s entire friend group, actually, had become deeply mystifying. He’d always been close to Mike, Will, and Lucas, which was normal enough, but now they had added in two girls their own age–one the daughter of the chief of police, the other stepsister to the local bad boy–and, for some reason, Mike’s older sister Nancy, Will’s older brother (and Nancy’s current boyfriend) Jonathan, and Nancy’s ex, the same former King Steve of Hawkins High. He’d lost his crown around the same time that relationship ended; it had seemed…messy.

Nobody had bothered to fill you in on the specifics. You suspected Dustin knew more than you since he and Steve had become glued at the hip around the same time, but you also knew it wouldn’t occur to him his intel could be interesting to you and you didn’t want to admit you were curious. You also couldn’t bring yourself to ask the main question: what the hell do you all talk about every damn weekend? You’d watch Dustin dive into Steve’s car multiple nights per week, it felt like, with some combination of the other kids along for the ride, and they’d be at the Byer’s or the Wheeler’s or even Steve’s mansion for hours. 

Surely, there was no way that Steve and Nancy had suddenly become amicable exes who were really invested in Dungeons and Dragons. 

The mall had only been opened for a week or two when it happened. You’d opened at the department store, as usual, so you were off for the day by mid-afternoon. Reluctant to leave the glossy, air-conditioned walkways for the rapidly sweltering outdoors, your feet wandered slowly past the still-pristine window displays. In a concession to self-indulgence, you allowed yourself to relish a little excitement for the interaction you had looked forward to all day. The next moment, you shoved those feelings down as just butterflies. No.…social anxiety. Yeah, Steve was cute, and it was an unexpected perk of being Dustin’s older sister that he even knew your name at all, but reading anything further into your new ice cream habit would be pure delusion. 

Stepping into Scoops Ahoy was a full-body sensory experience. By this time of day, it was lousy with energetic children dribbling cream-coated sprinkles on every surface. Hornpipe music blended manically with their shrieks. A cloud of toasty waffle cone and pure sugar wrapped around you so thickly you could already taste it with one foot through the door. And, behind the counter, the boy whose slouchy scowl and sailor cap couldn’t detract from his prettiness. 

You forced yourself to glance around casually at the striped blue-and-white walls with faux portholes and globe sconces as you waited in line, the last in a small rush, pretending to admire the nautically committed decor instead of staring at Steve. Your ears, however, strained to catch his inane customer service interactions. 

“Oh, sorry, we’re out of cotton candy…yeah, no, a lot of people like that one. Uh huh…..cup or cone? Ok so three large……that’ll be $3.75. Thanks, man.”

You hoped they weren’t sold out of your flavor. 

Willing your voice to be cool and casual, you stepped up to the counter and steeled yourself to meet Steve’s heart-melting brown eyes, to watch them crinkle again with recognition and a friendly smile, before shuffling quickly through the transaction and moving on to the next girl. Instead, a fully stuffed ice cream cone suddenly popped up with a flourish into your field of vision, clutched in a large, golden-tan hand and connected by a well-toned arm to a bright royal blue sailor uniform.

“USS Butterscotch in a waffle cone, right?” Steve winked at you. You startled. 

“Uh…I…” 

“Oh, shoot, were you going to order something else? I can, uh…” He looked side to side, as if for somewhere else to offload the cone. His cheeks went a bit rosy. 

“No! I mean, yes, that is, uh, that’s exactly what I wanted…um…” You scrambled frantically for your wallet, not having expected to need it for another moment or two.

“Wait, uh, don’t worry about it. The guy before you gave me a five and told me to keep the change, which just happens to cover you.” Steve held out the cone further, looking slightly regretful. 

“Yeah, dingus, that was supposed to be a tip for us to split,” drawled Robin, appearing over Steve’s shoulder and giving him a shove. 

“Shut up,” Steve grimaced at her, easily regaining his balance. 

Wallet stashed back in your bag, you reached gingerly for the cone, trying to avoid a drip already running down towards the paper wrapper. In doing so, your fingers brushed against Steve’s as he carefully released it into your grasp. Smooth, warm, strong. Your stomach jolted.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to take your tips.” You looked at Robin, her expression transitioning from annoyance to something else. Curiosity, maybe. You wondered, not for the first time, about her and Steve.

“Jeez, no, don’t worry about it.” Steve gestured dismissively at Robin, flicking a glare in her direction and then capturing your eyes again with that friendly smile you had been looking forward to. He leaned over the counter with two widespread, subtly flexing arms. “Hey, uh, did Dustin make it to camp okay?”  

You gently twisted the paper wrapper of the cone between your fingers, catching a drip or two with your tongue before they could land on your clothes or the floor. At Steve’s question, your eyebrows shot up and you lowered the cone from your face. 

“Oh yeah, he was able to call us the first night. He sounded pretty happy. I guess there are more girls there than he expected.” It was your turn to grimace a little. Thinking about Dustin and girls was fairly new territory.

“Girls at science camp, huh? Who’da known!” Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded, his mouth twisting down in a look of mild surprise. He was interrupted by a scoff. 

“Women? In science? It shouldn’t be allowed! This simply won’t do!” Robin gasped, her old-timey scandalized affect perfectly conveying deep, sarcastic disdain for Steve’s comment. 

Steve’s face tightened and his eyes widened with exasperation. You couldn’t hold back a tiny snicker. He glanced at you, quickly, looking a bit…wounded? That sobered you immediately. 

“Yeah, well. I guess Dustin is going to need to put whatever advice you gave him to good use,” you offered, trying to be conciliatory. “Thanks again for the ice cream, you didn’t have to do that.” 

Steve sighed, still clearly irked by Robin, but gave you an effortlessly sharp two finger salute and the tiniest smile. Pretty.

You stepped carefully around tables and sticky spots on the floor as you left, fighting the urge to turn back and watch as Robin began to berate Steve again. Maybe that’s what he really liked in a girl, somebody who constantly teased and riled.

“Advice? What kind of advice did you give her poor brother? Let’s take a look at the data–” 

Out the door, you couldn’t help glancing back through the large glass window at Robin’s smirk, gesturing to a whiteboard with a small handful of scribbled tally marks. Whatever it was didn’t seem like official ice cream business. Steve had one hand on his hip and the other tangled in his hair, his hat suddenly missing as if he’d knocked it off to do so. But what surprised you was that his eyes were, for half a second, on you, too.

You remembered the night, a few months back, that Steve had admitted to giving Dustin romantic advice. One day in February, Dustin smugly told you Steve Harrington was coming over for dinner and to watch Doctor Who with him. 

“Are you sure he even wants to come over?” You interrogated your brother. “I like to watch Doctor Who with you but I gotta say I really don’t see it being something he’d like.” 

“You are correct, but that’s exactly why he has to watch it. I’m giving him a nerd culture education. He doesn’t even know the differences between Star Trek and Star Wars.” 

“What if he hates it?” 

“He will. It’s gonna be great.” 

“...okay, so why on earth did he agree to come?” 

“Because Lucas is going to quiz him this weekend. Also, I don’t think he likes being around his parents.” Dustin continued, casually burying the lede. “They just got back from one of their trips and he said he was planning to go bowling or something by himself so he didn’t have to see them. I guess his dad’s an asshole–”

“Dustin–”

“So I told him to come here instead because you and mom won’t mind, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Your brother continued, knowing you didn’t really care about his language despite the occasional gesture at propriety.

Secretly, you still wondered if Dustin had some kind of weird blackmail on Steve, but you were getting used to the fact that he was apparently unable to resist your brother’s immense capacity for persuasion. Your brother was a total dork but you knew he was also perceptive and deeply empathetic, even towards top-dog hot-shot seniors without any apparent reason to give him the time of day.

Day of, you thought a little harder than usual about what outfit you wanted to wear, finally settling for your trendiest pair of jeans and that top you knew brightened your skin and your eyes. You teased your hairdo with extra care and squandered a swipe of your favorite lip gloss. 

You sort of hated yourself for doing it, seeing as you knew Steve didn’t think about you at all and you didn’t want him to. But you also weren’t going to blend into your frumpy house if you could help it, for your dignity’s sake. 

Steve arrived promptly, in one of his signature striped polo shirts with an expensive-yet-casual jacket. He ruffled Dustin’s hair and looked you and your mother both in the eyes as he removed his jacket, clearly feeling awkward. “Hello, thank you for having me.” Anxiety, not butterflies. 

Tews, a deeply suspicious cat, made himself scarce. 

“Steve, dear, we are so glad to have you. Dusty’s been so excited,” began your mom, eliciting a groan from her son. 

“Oh come ON, can we just eat already? I have SO MUCH backstory to explain to Steve!” He took Steve’s jacket, flung it on the coat rack, and hustled you all through the kitchen into the dining room, where Dustin’s requested lasagna was already on the table with your good company plates. 

You guessed that Steve was used to much nicer tableware and house furnishings, and you watched guardedly, waiting for him to scan the whole room and clock every imperfection. Instead, he seemed shy and grateful, like the atmosphere was somehow making him feel inadequate, not the other way around. 

He caught you looking at him and cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you for cooking dinner. Dustin told me your lasagna is awesome.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s, uh, it’s mostly just opening the box of pasta and the jars of sauce,” you hedged.

“She’ll NEVER reveal her secret!” The whole house was Dustin’s voice as he scooped an enormous hunk out of the dish and hefted it over to Steve’s plate. You thought you saw the older boy wince and his eyes flash towards your mother as sauce and cheese splattered onto the floral oilcloth covering your table. Your mother was entirely preoccupied settling herself into her chair with a contented sigh. 

You cringed a little, your own eyes flicking across Steve’s shirt to see if Dustin had splashed his clothes, but you didn’t think so. Then you realized you didn’t care if he had. You knew Steve must have dozens of those shirts filling his closet at home.

By now, the remaining three plates had also been laden with sloppy layers of lasagna and Dustin had taken his seat across from your mom at the little round table. He was digging in, chewing with his mouth a little more open than you’d prefer, and grinning to his right at Steve, who slowly picked up his fork, checking to make sure you and your mom were doing the same. 

You braced yourself for Steve to pick around his plate, perhaps make excuses about a late lunch–not because you cared if he enjoyed his dinner, but because you didn’t like the idea of any judgment whatsoever coming down on your little life. Steve had traveled, stayed in expensive hotels, and eaten at famous restaurants. The Harrington ski weekends and summer trips to Europe were common fodder for envious school gossip. You knew your house, your food, your family were simple in comparison, but you didn’t want to be reminded through Steve’s eyes.

“Okay, so. The Doctor is a member of a highly advanced alien species called Time Lords.” Dustin launched into a grand narration about time travel; camouflaging, auto-translating spaceships; and intergalactic conflicts–all of it necessary, in his view, to induct Steve into the lore of his favorite show. His messy fork stabbed vigorously through the air, accompanied by sputtered sonic screwdriver sound effects. 

Steve nodded and glanced between Dustin and his own plate, eating neatly and humming comprehension and agreement, raising his eyebrows to indicate shock and awe at the appropriate twists and reveals (“Bigger…on the INSIDE”). You thought you maybe caught the tiniest of eyerolls from time to time, which made you want to smirk. Interacting with Dustin in this mode was notoriously painful but Steve was putting up with it admirably. Again, why?

You also had to notice that the food was disappearing rapidly, and not just from Dustin’s plate. When your brother finally had to stop and catch his breath, Steve looked at you and earnestly said, “This lasagna is…outrageous.” 

“I TOLD you so!” Dustin sounded more proud of his own accuracy than your cooking chops. 

“She takes such good care of us.” Your mother beamed, an unusual twinkle in her eye. “Dusty and I are lucky to have her. Quite the chef!” 

“Yeah.” Steve agreed politely. 

You felt your cheeks warm. Dustin’s friends always liked your food, but those dinners had never ended with your mom awkwardly wingmanning you to a guy who would never even glance your way at school. NOT butterflies.

“I’m glad you like it.” You acknowledged the compliment a bit stiffly, wondering if Steve and Dustin were expecting you to all get along and chat, or if they were just being polite for the duration of the meal.

Dustin glanced at the clock and let out a yell before shoveling his last few bites into his mouth. “It’s starting soon! Gotta finish up!” 

Now Steve was fully laughing at him. “Dude, we’ve got a few minutes. Don’t choke yourself.” He stood and began stacking dishes and silverware. You reached for his pile, but he pulled them away. “No, it’s okay, I can wash up. It’s the least I can do.” 

“Oh no, dear, you’re our guest! Go settle in.” Your mom waved him off, taking the stack with her into the kitchen and filling the sink with water. You followed her with the leftover food and started putting it away while Dustin swiped at the tabletop with a rag. 

“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” Steve looked unsure of what to do with his now-empty hands, first crossing them, then moving them to his hips, then running one through his thick, shiny hair. It was clear you three Hendersons had a well-established routine for dividing up the tasks and weren’t prone to disruptions.

Dustin finished cleaning the table and grabbed Steve by the shoulder, shoving him in the direction of the tv room. “Alright, let’s go, the TARDIS awaits!”

“Easy there, di–uh, Dustin.” Steve stood his ground and gently shoved back, still looking to you and your mom for orders.

“Yeah, thanks, but don’t worry about it. I’ll just let it all soak right now and turn on the radio later,” you said, trying to process the fact that Steve Harrington had just offered to do your dishes. 

“You go on, too, sweetheart. Don’t miss your show with Dustin! I’ll just get the dishes out of the way now before I head to bed.” You flushed again at your mom’s revelation that you, too, were invested in Doctor Who.

“Are you sure, mom? Are you feeling okay?” 

“Oh, I’m just fine. Go relax,” she insisted. 

You followed Dustin and Steve into your living room as the credits and theme song came on. Dustin jumped into your mom’s chair and pointed at the end of the couch closest to the TV, which Steve hesitantly took. You slowly sat down on the opposite end, nearest the kitchen. Having finally decided the evening’s intrusion to be non-threatening, Tews joined Dustin in the recliner. 

“Is that Doctor Who?” Steve pointed at the first character that appeared on the screen, an alien with a mask of goopy rubber tentacles. 

“No dipshit–” 

“Language,” Steve chided mildly, glancing your way. “How about him?” This time it was a humanoid. 

“No. Like I was explaining earlier, there is no ‘Doctor Who.’ Just ‘The Doctor’.” 

“Okay, so they made a whole show about a guy who doesn’t even have a name?” 

“He does have a name, he’s a Time Lord, he’s called The Doctor. It’s not complicated.” 

“But ‘The Doctor’ isn’t a name, that’s, like, a title. You can’t just be ‘The Doctor’. He should be Doctor Somebody, otherwise you’d get confused with any other doctor on the show. Like ‘oh, hey, we need a doctor! But wait, what doctor? Doctor who? …Oh…” 

Dustin’s eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of his head as he glared at Steve condescendingly. A giggle leapt out into the silence, despite your best efforts. 

“Yeah, okay, I heard it.” Steve grumbled and quieted down. 

Between the distractions of Steve Harrington on your couch and the gentle clinks and splashes coming from next door in the kitchen, you really weren't paying attention to the show how you normally would. You were worried about your mom. Evenings were usually hardest for her, and it was about the time she’d be going to bed. You knew she had exerted herself more than usual today, tidying the house and gardening in the yard. She liked these domestic tasks but they took a lot out of her. 

The sound of shattering glass and a yelp sent you bolt upright onto your feet. Dashing the couple of steps to the kitchen, you found your mom on her knees. Shards from a drinking tumbler sparkled around her. You paused for a half second to determine the clearest path across the floor only to feel a tall form making contact with you from behind unexpectedly, nearly knocking you over. 

“Jeez, oh gosh, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Steve, apparently not having expected you to stop, reflexively grabbed your arm and the counter to steady himself and you. “Are you okay, Mrs. Henderson?” Warm, strong.

Your mom had slid to the floor, her back against the lower cabinets, with her eyes closed, breathing shallowly. You pulled away from Steve and gingerly stepped over to crouch by her. “Hey, mom?” She gave you a pale smile and gestured limply to the broken glass as you gently rubbed her back. “Butterfingers.” 

You smiled back, then turned to Steve, anxious to handle the situation without his participation. 

“I’ll clean this up and help mom to bed. Go back and watch with Dustin, he really wanted to spend time with you.” You silently prayed Steve would obey, despite the concern on his face. He could tell something wasn’t right. “Go on!” You knew your tone was closer to urgent when it should have been casual, but Steve slowly nodded and rejoined Dustin in the tv room.

Ignoring the sense memory of Steve’s fingers wrapped protectively around your elbow, you bent closer to your mom, seeking eye contact. “Mom? Mom? Talk to me.” 

“I…I…I can’t…I need…” Her breaths were coming quicker and quicker and sounding raspier and raspier until they transitioned into low sobs, her shoulders shaking. 

“I know, mom, I know,” you soothed, like she was a young child. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get you all cleaned up and get some rest.” 

Mom’s chest continued to heave as you slowly helped her stand up, checking her hands and knees for any cuts or stray bits of glass. That’s when you saw her palm bleeding, smearing red on her sleeve as she wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just a little cut. I’ll get you all fixed up.” Your voice was low and slow, and you continued to rub her back, helping her over to a chair. 

“Hey, is mom…?” Dustin appeared at your side, Steve hovering a step or two behind him, both trying to step around the glass.

“Yeah, just…” you made a shoo motion at both of them. “I got it.” 

Steve found himself again in front of a show he couldn’t be bothered to understand, trying to make sense of what had unfolded in the kitchen. He knew his experience with his own mom was not…normal, but despite how different your household was to his own, this didn’t seem normal, either. His ears, nearly completely tuned out from the TV, strained to follow along as you treated and bandaged your mom’s hand, helped her take some pills, made her a cup of tea, and helped her down the hallway to bed. 

You returned, scooping up Tews from Dustin’s lap. As you carried him away, Steve could barely make out, under your breath “Come on, buddy, mama needs you…” He could hear your mother’s low, panicking sobs rising and falling and your voice soothing and shushing, until eventually all was quiet from the direction of the bedrooms. Eventually you came back to the tv room, lips pressed together in a forced neutral expression, and grabbed your coat, shutting the front door behind you. 

When the episode of Doctor Who ended, Steve and Dustin both got up and headed for the kitchen. 

“Um, where’s your broom?” Steve asked. Dustin opened the broom cupboard and handed it over, picking up a dustpan and brush for himself. They carefully cleared the glass away, examining the floor closely for any glint that could mean a hazardous shard left behind. 

“Thanks,” said Dustin, as they put the cleaning tools neatly back in position. 

“Yeah, of course.” Steve nudged Dustin casually. “Safety first, my little friend.” 

“I’m not a child.” Dustin rolled his eyes. 

“Uh huh. That’s exactly what a child would say.” Steve shook a warning finger in Dustin’s face. “You can’t fool me with your fancy sci-fi tv show knowledge. I’m the one keeping you out of trouble. In fact, you’re just like those guys in that show needing to be rescued all the time, which, yes, admit it, that makes ME Doctor Who.” 

“Oh, my GOD. Just go HOME already. Why do I even bother,” Dustin groaned. Steve smirked triumphantly, ruffled Dustin’s hair, and glanced towards the back of the house. 

“Is…is your mom…alright?” he said, his voice much quieter. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, well, yeah. You know. She’ll be totally back to normal in the morning.” 

Steve didn’t know, but Dustin seemed to feel he’d answered the question, so Steve grabbed his jacket, said goodnight and stepped out onto the porch, which is how he nearly fell over you for the second time that evening. 

“Oh, sh–jeez–uh, I’ve gotta stop doing that!” he gasped, catching his balance. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You had been seated, motionless, on the step, in the warm glow of the porch light, staring out at the chilly darkness. You loved the tall, tall trees circling your house, the only things visible between you and the stars. Now, you turned expectantly to face the tall boy on your porch, waiting for him to scoot past you towards his BMW and take off. “The show is over?” 

“Yeah.” 

For some reason, Steve didn’t seem in a rush to leave. Then you remembered: his parents. What must that be like, trying to avoid your mom and dad as much as possible? You had a weird feeling that he had a good reason; he didn’t seem like your typical rebellious, angsty teen.

“Um, whatddya think?” you asked, picking at your thumbnail.

Steve gave you the same earnest look from earlier when he had complimented your lasagna. 

“Not really my thing.” 

You had to laugh. “It’s not for everybody, I guess.”

“You like it?” 

It was your turn to repay the earnesty. “Yeah…I do. I know the costumes and makeup and everything are pretty goofy, but I think it looks like the people who made the show had a lot of fun doing it. And I like how the Doctor always tries to save everybody, no matter what.” 

Steve thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t really seen other shows like that.” 

He slowly sat down alongside you on the porch step, leaving a couple of feet between you. You became deeply focused on a bundle of pine needles that had found its way into your hands, snapping them apart into smaller and smaller pieces. You’d never get tired of that scent. Its sharp tingle was a helpful distraction from the warm and boyish smell you couldn’t help but notice lingering around Steve. For a couple of minutes, the only sounds on the porch were little exhales of breath as they formed twisting clouds escaping from your lungs into the night. 

You could feel that Steve had something to say long before the words left his mouth. He struggled to shape their meaning into something you could accept. 

“I’m…sorry, about your mom,” he finally tried. 

You didn’t reply, still attentively snapping pine needles. 

He continued. “I don’t really…well, I mean, Dustin hasn’t really said much about her, to me anyway.” 

You knew why. There wasn’t an easy answer, or a short story. Mom was complicated. Usually you and your brother just pretended things were normal, or close to it. Dustin’s other friends were used to her, but you knew it had been obvious to Steve that something wasn’t right. He was looking at you with genuine concern, not just curiosity. You let the night sounds fill out a long pause before you responded, your words slow and careful.

“Dustin should just get to be a kid. I don’t want him to worry about her, or anything like that.” 

You were surprised to hear yourself open up to Steve, of all people, but even more surprised to see his eyes cloud over instantly when you said that. He looked troubled, and also just…sad. Maybe even scared?

Steve composed himself quickly, giving a forced laugh. “Man, he’s really something. I think the only thing he’s worried about is whether or not I can talk nerd shit with him.” Why did it sound like Steve was trying to comfort you?

You paused too long for another joke to feel natural, and you hadn’t thought of a joke anyway.

“Thanks for spending so much time with him. I think it’s really helping him, even if I have…no idea why you guys are even friends.” You were back to studying your broken bits of pine needles.

Steve’s laugh was heartier this time. “I...wish I could tell you.” 

You looked over at him, trying to read his expression. That was when you noticed that after you left, he must have unbuttoned his polo shirt to get comfortable while watching the tv show in the warmth of the house. Now, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his partially bare neck and shoulder caught your eye. There was a distinctly darkish purple shadow on his skin, like the grip of a large, rough hand. 

He saw your eye flick down. Automatically, a tiny shrug shifted the fabric of his polo and jacket over the shadow, and you wondered if you’d imagined it: a trick of the porch light, or the angle of his collarbone, maybe.

For a while, you both sat, quietly observing the night.

You sometimes felt your most peaceful at night, in the dark. If mom and Dustin were both in their rooms, and the dishes–oh shit, the dishes–and other chores were all taken care of, you felt safe. Nobody could see you, nothing could touch you. It would be hours before a new task had to be done or another well-meaning neighbor could pry into your family’s business. 

Steve broke the silence with a sharp intake of breath. “Parent stuff is…hard.” He spoke out towards the trees, then glanced sideways at you, chewing his lip. 

You nodded, staring at the ground between you, his gaze burning into the side of your face. Then, screwing your courage to the sticking point, you confronted him: “What did you mean, that you keep Dustin out of trouble, that you keep rescuing him?” 

Steve looked a bit stunned. 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I’m sorry, you guys are just loud. Is he…doing anything? I need to know.” 

“No! Nonono, no. Gosh, no, I swear, he’s a GREAT kid. Dustin would never–I was just–I mean–”

You met Steve’s gaze, and although his pleading words sounded fake, his eyes begged you to believe him. You cut him off, mercifully.

“Dustin isn’t in any trouble? Is he keeping any secrets from me?” 

Steve shook his head vigorously at your first question and then paused a bit guiltily at your second. 

“You know, I kinda just gave him some…girl advice. And then when it didn’t work out, I gave him more advice to help…fix it. I know you guys are close, and you do a lot for him, and he really loves you, but I guess it’s not really the kind of thing you talk to your sister about. Not that I’d really know, but, uh…” Steve trailed off, his eyebrows raised high above his large brown eyes and bemused smirk. He hoped his affect was casual and believable enough to shepherd the conversation into a lighter direction. 

Dustin, looking for girl advice from Steve Harrington? This friendship made even less sense to you than it did a few minutes ago. But Steve had a point. And you wanted to believe that if Dustin trusted Steve, then you could, too. You felt warm and fuzzy thinking about how Steve let it slip that Dustin must have talked about you. It made you daring.

“Yeah, I guess not. Dustin’s lucky to be getting dating advice from King Steve.” Your eyes returned to the trees but Steve’s grimace was too obvious to be missed. 

“He’s nothing like me.” This time, when you looked over, Steve’s jaw was set firmly, his eyes darkened, and he wouldn’t look at you. “Thanks again for dinner, it was amazing. Goodnight.” 

Steve stood up and headed for his car, and as you watched him go you saw him pull a package of cigarettes and a lighter from his jacket pocket. You thought about calling out something about how he better not be letting Dustin smoke, but you thought better of it. Steve had seemed bothered by your King Steve comment and after seeing firsthand how much he cared about Dustin, you felt bad upsetting him. 

The next morning, as Dustin had predicted, your mom was calm and cheery. 

“Did you kids have a fun time with Steve?” She beamed from behind her cup of coffee, Tews curling around her feet contentedly. 

“Yep.” Dustin was scrambling to shove bread into the toaster and pour himself OJ. 

“He seems like a nice boy,” your mom prodded. 

“Mmhmm,” you offered noncommittally to your own cup of coffee. Then, unable to resist teasing: “No idea what he sees in Dustin through.”

“He recognizes charm and intellect when he sees it!” Dustin protested. 

“Maybe Dustin isn’t the only reason he came over,” your mother mused with twinkling, hopeful eyes. 

“Mom–” 

“HEY–”

Ignoring the protests of her children, she continued. “You aren’t seeing anybody and I don’t think he is either, right Dustin?” 

“You are correct, but mom, seriously–”

You cut in. “Not happening, mom.” 

“What would be so crazy about going on a date with him? You’re a beautiful girl, he’s a handsome, nice boy! You should go out and have a little fun!” 

You gritted your teeth. Sure, you’d love to have a normal teenage life. 

“She’s not gonna date Steve, mom. He’s a cool guy and everything but the last time he dated somebody, his friends got really sick and twisted about it. Remember the graffiti about Nancy last year?”

Your guts contorted in sympathy and dread at the memory, like a knot tightened with a sudden jerk. Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler. She had moved on and continued to hold her head up at school, but you were no Nancy Wheeler. If it had been you, tangling somehow with Steve and Tommy H. and Carol, you’d have either jumped into the quarry or left Hawkins for the closest nunnery. You didn’t even know the details of what had happened–it wasn’t like anybody really talked to you–but you felt pretty sure Nancy couldn’t have deserved it, especially not with the romantic reputation Steve himself had earned around school. 

Even you knew about that. Yeah, dating Steve was off the table.

[calliedion-dungeon]

Headcanons of the Papas when you drop your ice cream.

(I'm sure somebody has done this but if these are too similar, tell me please. As far as I know this is what I think)

Nihil.

He looks at you tenderly and gives you money to buy another one, because he is an adorable grandpa.

Primo.

Similar to Nihil, but he gives you money to buy a bigger one, a balloon and a stuffed animal.

Secondo.

He pretends that he didn't notice, but after thinking about it for a moment he gives you his ice cream.

Terzo.

Without question, he buys you the entire gallon of ice cream, even though you begged him not to, as he is touched by your sad little face.

Copia.

With tears in his eyes, he hands you half of his, then he drops it and you have to give him back the ice cream before he really cries.

BONUS

Sister Imperator.

She looks at you and tells you that she won't buy you another one.

Mary Goore.

When you drop your ice cream, they drop theirs too, so no one has anything.

[junipers-archive]

Happy Halloween

Word Count: 900

Includes: fluff, tooth rotting fluff really; about Spencer and reader on Halloween night enjoying whatever Spencer has planned!! (also ik its not halloween but in my head it always is.)

You hadn't exactly planned the night. In fact, you'd left it up to Spencer to decide how you'd spend you halloween together.

This of course landed you with tons of unanswered questions as you followed him out of the car, trailing behind him cautiously since he was known for acting particularly spooky near the holiday.

Meaning he was more likely to jump scare whoever he was with at the time.

This year you'd both agreed to dress up as Emily and Victor from the corpse bride, him because he had an affinity for Tim Burtons films and you because it had always been one your favorites as a kid.

However as your dress begins to drag, you get closer to what looks like the end of the parking lot, and you begin to hear carnival music you regret your choice of outfit just slightly.

"Spence where are we?"you question, stopping in your tracks.

He looks back at you, smiling, "Trust me?"

You take a few steps forward linking arms with him then, "Always."

As it turns out, you find he had taken you to Washington's "Spooktacular Carnival" event in one of the many parks nearby. As you entered you were both greeted by a Man dressed as Frankenstein who only grunted and pointed when you asked where you could get a map.

From there you both explored to your free will, first stopping at one of the many food trucks nearby to "aquire sustanacance for the spookiest night ever" as Spencer put it. You marveled at the food given to you seeing as it was halloween themed and your tacos looked as though they were somebody's guts and his burrito looked like the remains of someone's flesh.

Though provoking less than hungry appetites within you, you ate your meals and went on your way, stopping by a myriad of carnival-turned-halloween games,

such as "Witches brew" which involved you making your own liquid nitrogen ice cream,"The butcher shop" in which you both entered a pumpkin carving contest and the "Mummy's Demise" in which you happily wrapped your boyfriend in toilet paper, blind folded him and then guided him through a maze filled with 'ghouls and monsters of the undead'.

To say the least many games such as these drained the life out of you, which Spencer proudly stated was the "point of hallow's eve!"

Your favorite game over all though had to be the apple bobbing contest in which Spencer, being Spencer who was so dear of Halloween, dunked almost his entire upper-body into the barrel of water searching for the apples.

Completely forgetting, of course, that he had put makeup on earlier that night to maintain his "dead-ish" look.

After, if not console him on his loss in the contest but also appease your once more growling stomach, you bought some cotton candy for the two of you, which was needlessly to say, being advertised as the brains of the Walking Dead.

By the end of the night you had explored every inch of the carnival, winning the pumpkin contest and getting the two top prizes, a giant bag of candy, which Spencer took excitedly and a Sephora gift card, which you also accepted with glee.

The last stop, was as both of you had been referring to it all night "the big Kahunna", aka the Haunted House. The line was so long you both had decided to buy the tickets for the latest time, there was no avoiding it now. Both your scaredy-cat butts were about to be spooked.

"Y/n I know you're tired...we can just go home." Pleaded Spencer, but you wouldn't let him chicken out this late in the game.

So, you linked arms with him perhaps for the last time that night and stepped up, giving a woman dressed as The bride of Chucky your tickets while Chucky, which you assumed was her date, led you to the entrance.

To say the least you were jump-scared more than once going into the house with was decorated in an old Victorian fashion that gave you the creeps. As Spencer nervously racked his brain for facts to list off about the time era and how Halloween was celebrated in Victorian England, which you learned was throwing lavish parties including intricate rituals and everyone involved.

You however also learned that he is terrified of spiders more than any of the creatures that were popping out at you. And that you were more genius than your genius for bringing a camera in to record his reactions, earning you tons of footage of his albeit cute but equally laughable surprised face.

The haunted house led you guys through a series of rooms, including scenes played out of 'Frankensteins creation', 'Dracula's breaking', 'The Shining's' most origonal scene and more.

Some were even interactive which as Spencer thoroughly enjoyed, as you were more happy to watch the scenes play by.

In the end, you walked out covered in fake blood, spider webs and god knows what they threw at you, grinning like idiots. But never once had you felt un-safe with him beside you, still with your arms linked you walked back to the car together, hands filled with the trinkets and treats gathered that night.

Just before you got to the car he turned to you still grinning, kissed your temple and whispered "Happy Halloween".