#look. I turned my favourite hobby - climbing - into part of what I did at work

[loumauve]

a very short list of things I'm gonna miss about work:

that's it. the climbing (that was against safety protocols but we didn't have a ladder and the tree was growing crooked af and I felt bad for it)

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

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“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

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Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

[deepseavibez]

A Star In Your Sky || JJK

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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A Star In Your Sky [Jungkook]

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Genre - Dad!Jungkook; Angst; Sadness; Melancholy; Drabble:

Summary - Helpless as he was, 'what you didn't know couldn't hurt you'... it would have to do. There was nothing else he could do.

Warning - Angst; Sadness; Major Character Death;

Word Count - 1.7k

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Jungkook woke up with a start at the blaring alarm. 5am - his phone flashed in red numbers. Snoozing it, he left it back on the table.

The fog on the windows signifying a cold morning, the dreary grey clouds overcast, the edge of dawn.

Wiping the sleep out of his eyes he righted his shirt, pulling his sleeves over his cold hands, ruffling his hair as he stretched his limbs and swung them over the couch.

The cold hit his bare feet as he stood up and started his way down the hall, switching the lights on as he walked, to navigate his way to the room right next to his.

Door slightly ajar, he pushed on it, the slight creak a normal sound, a part of the surroundings, the many years behind the action of tuning it out.

His eyes fell past the threshold, items he knew by heart, colors he had committed to memory, the scent and the surroundings - his home.

The curtains in this room were purple, deep purple, the hue something akin to indigo, silver moons and stars shone at the catch of even the tiniest bit of light.

There were posters of cartoons, drawings in crayons and paints, a basket of toys in the corner of the room, and Cooky, the pink plush toy staring back on the made bed.

Eyes scanning the toy he remembered the day it came home.

----------

'Dad, look what Uncle Jinnie got me,' Moon ran up to him, as she giggled in excitement, eyes lighting up at the plush toy in her hand.

Turning toward the sound of his daughter, he bent down on one knee so she could hop into his waiting arms. He held her easily, her form tiny and stable in his muscled hands.

Her momentary glance to the tattoo on his skin, a second nature, something that made her smile, as her name had been carved into his forearm, stars surrounding it with a Saturn ring.

She was Daddy's little girl and she loved every moment of it.

Meeting her fathers eyes, she held up the pink bunny in her arms, a prize worth every drop of attention he could give.

Smiling bemused he asked her, 'What about all the other teddy's in your room, babygirl?'

He nosed at her cheek as he teased her.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers, 'Dad!' she exclaimed in a mock whisper, 'They aren't Teddy's, they all have names.'

'Yeah, Jk, how can you call them Teddy's,' Jin played along, just as scandalized at his dongsaengs choice of words.

Mouth twitching, the mole on his chin, shifting at the movement, he raised an eyebrow at his hyung, 'I'm surprised you didn't get her the RJ.'

'Now, now, I did explain the perks of having RJ, but she is Daddy's little girl.' They smiled, endeared with the toddler between them.

It was the last proper, happy outing they had, ice-cream, feeding the seagulls, playing in the sand, her best days with her father and her Uncle Jin.

----------

‘I don't care what happens to me, I don’t care about the money! Just please save my baby, please!’ Jungkook was enraged, angry at the world, helpless, desperate.

Stage 4. She was only a child, her tiny body fit in his arms, her form only half of him.

It came out of nowhere, severe bruising and bleeding when she fell down, or got cut. Trouble breathing when she ran, nausea when she ate and sometimes not wanting to eat at all. Waking up to her cries in the middle of the night, sniffling quietly, at the pains in her body.

Too many symptoms, too many blood tests later, too many restless, sleepless nights, she was diagnosed with leukemia.

There were weeks of waiting for results, test after test, of having to sit her in his lap, and explain why she needed to see countless doctors and that things would get better, that it was just for now.

But as he stood opposite her doctor, his hyung holding his shoulder, he had to go home and tell her he lied. He lied.

He'd have to tell her that there was no turning back, and if it was too late for his daughter, the love of his life, the very center of his world, for him, there would be no way forward.

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He stood at the doorway of her hospital room, having just gone home to change up and get her favorite mac and cheese. The sight he met every single time, not something he had gotten used to, despite the number of weeks he’d been at the forefront of it all.

The tubes along her face, her nose, in her arms, something a baby should never have to go through. A parent should never have to think about outliving their child. It wasn’t the cycle. It wasn’t fair.

She deserved, to hit double digits, to find love, to have him fight the need to protect her from every mistake, to always be there for her, she deserved friends, memories, the chance to discover hobbies, she deserved more time.

The saddest part was that she was too young to think of any of those things, and yet, maybe it could also be a blessing.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right.

Blinking back tears he plastered a fake smile on his face, the brightest one he felt he could muster. ‘Hey, babygirl.’

She looked up, a small smile, slowly making its way up her cheeks, her face pale. Opening her mouth to speak, he shook his head at her. ‘No, no, shh, baby, don’t hurt your throat.’

Making his way over to her bed, he gingerly climbed in next to her, the nurses used to his presence, the doctors having no objection considering the care he had with her as he slotted himself protectively over her.

Pecking her on the head, he took note of the scrapbook in her hand. She looked at it everyday, pictures of her six loving uncles, Taehyung plaiting her hair, Jimin showing her tiny jewelry pieces, stick-ons for her ears, Namjoon with a bunch of block letters, a tower of it clearly having collapsed around them. Her Uncle Hobi always made her smile, as he had her on his back and his neck, walked her around the apartments like he was her personal chauffeur, Yooni holding her as she slept, light music playing in the background, and her Uncle Jin, her favourite Uncle Jin, always around, choosing school bags, spoiling her with anything she wanted, anything that caught her eye, especially morning blueberry waffles and her dad, Jungkook, her dad, the youngest, the one with the most time, the most allowance to make reckless decisions, the one who adapted his whole life around her inclusion in his life.

‘Hey, remember the story of your first birthday,’ His voice exuberant at her cake covered face,’when you didn’t want to wear the red jacket Uncle Tae gave you, and you cried for his instead,’ he petted her head as he searched her face for recognition.

She pouted at the mention of it, the story recounted so many times before,’Uncle Tae’s jacket was purple, Dad. How could I not want it,’ Her cheekiness earned her a light flick to her nose.

She upturned it crossly, a little zest in her eyes at the familiar chastising.

They paused, looking at each other, before the smile slowly disappeared from her face, the reaction apparently contagious as Jungkook sat up in concern. ‘Dad,’ she started softly, her eyes trained on the blanket covering her legs, ’are you gonna forget me?’

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat at the innocent question, striving to show no reaction on his face. Moving swiftly, he worked his way around the cables and maneuvered her into his lap. They tried, he tried, and she had been so strong but even at her tender age she knew it, he knew it, the time for sugar coated words, and false hopes were over, acceptance was all that was left.

‘Close your eyes,’ he prompted, wiping tears he could no longer hold back, away from his eyes.‘Can you see me?’

‘My eyes-,’

‘No, keep them closed, can you see me,’ he reiterated, beside himself.

‘No, I can’t see you.’

‘But you can hear me right,’ taking note of her face, her nose, her cute cheeks, he waited for her answer.

‘Yes, I can hear you.’

‘Well,’ he sniffled, head falling against her forehead lightly, the contact needed, ’that’s what it will be like. I will always be here for you. I will always talk to you, and I promise,’ his hand found hers and squeezed it, ’I will never forget you. You may not see me and I may not see you, but you will always be the biggest part of me. And I promise, I will never, ever, forget you.’

He broke at his last words, pulling her into his embrace, holding his Moon, wishing with everything he had left, he would never have to let her go.

Moon passed that night, in her sleep, in his arms, as painless as it could possibly be. Knowing what was going to happen, couldn’t have prepared Jungkook for the real thing. But he knew he had to let go of her lifeless body, he knew he had to call the one person who could handle him or whatever came next for him, and as soon as he saw his Jin hyung, the one that named his perfect girl, he fell into his arms and cried, as his heart shattered into pieces.

----------

Standing at doorways were his thing these days, he thought, everything he did was not enough, not too much, like sitting on the fence, falling in the middle.

It had been a year, but he couldn’t clean out this room, he still woke up at 5am despite his flexible job because he had to take care of her routine, maybe someday he would have to stop coming in here, but right now, the made bed, the unused room, the stillness of it all, would remind him that even for a time, he had something beautiful, something worth all that pain, a human that he would meet someday again.

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[thebigbadbatswife]

One Single Thread Of Gold Tied Me To You

Summary - Everyone is tied to their soulmate with a red thread tied to their wrist. All except Y/N’s, who’s thread is gold. Tired of waiting for her soulmate to come and find her, she decides to go and find them. It doesn’t go quite how she expected it to.

Warnings - A little angst

[A/N] - This is a soulmate au where you and your soulmate are attached by an unbreakable red thread (or, in this case, gold), tied to your wrist. This was inspired by the song 'Invisible String' by Taylor Swift.

Word Count - 4k

As the early morning sun slowly filtered into your room, through your blinds, you carefully examined the thread attached to your wrist. Everyone had one; it was your link to your soulmate. Yours was different to everyone else though. While everyone had red, yours was gold. As you turned your wrist, it caught the sunlight and glistened a little.

Everyone you knew had always been fascinated by it. As was nearly every stranger you met. Why was it gold? What exactly made you and your soulmate so different to everyone else’s? Questions you had often asked yourself as well. Why were you two so different?

Your family had a theory that whoever it was, they were rich. Very rich. That was surely the reason it was gold. Nothing else made sense to them. Meanwhile your friends were completely convinced that your soulmate was some kind of God.

“Come on, Y/N! It’s the only thing that makes sense!” Tracey said before taking another sip of her third glass of wine. Her usually bright emerald eyes were glazed over from all of the alcohol. “Why else would it be gold?”

“You gotta admit, Tracey might be drunk right now, but she has a good point!” Skylar joined in. She took her brown eyes off the blonde and looked over at you before continuing. “Oh! What if your soulmate is like Wonder Woman or Superman or something! How cool would that be?”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your own glass of wine. “Stop it. You’re both being ridiculous,” you had told them because they really were being ridiculous. There was no way your soulmate was a member of the Justice League, let alone an Amazonian Princess or the Man of Steel.

You were, of course, curious of your soulmate yourself. Who wouldn’t be curious of the person they’re destined to end up with? But you didn’t think up the crazy theories your friends and family liked to come up with. Instead you wondered things like, what kind of hobbies do they have? What’s their favourite colour? What type of music do they listen to? Were they a cat person or a dog person? And other things like that.

Another thing about the thread that tied you to your soulmate was that, while everyone could see the thread around your wrist, only you and soulmate could see where it led. While you had always wanted to follow it, you had decided that it would be better to focus on having a decent job and place to live first.

During that time a small part of you had hoped that maybe your soulmate would come looking for you, but since they clearly weren’t, maybe you should? After all, you had a well paying job and a great apartment, so why not? Every job was legally required to allow people time off to go search, so that wouldn’t be an issue. It was paid time off as well so you didn’t have to worry about money. You also had a car so you wouldn’t have to spend a shit ton of money on travel. At least, you hoped you wouldn’t. In truth, for all you knew, your soulmate could be in a completely different country. Now that would certainly complicate things.

Shaking that thought away (because there was no way fate could be that cruel), you got out of bed and set about putting the wheels in motion that would allow you to start following your thread

‘ Welcome to Gotham City! ’ the sign read as you drove past it. When you had told those close to you, your plan, they had been super supportive. Now, if they knew where your thread had lead you, you doubted they’d be as supportive. Hell, even you were rethinking things now. Out of all the cities for your soulmate to be in, it just had to be this one.

How did you know it was this city that they resided in and it wasn’t just another stop along the way? It was hard to explain, but you had a feeling deep within your gut, almost like a sixth sense that just yelled “Yep! This is the place!”.

You felt extremely uneasy as you drove through the city. It was night-time as well which did absolutely nothing to help. Honestly, of all the times to arrive in Gotham, night-time was definitely the worst. Well, there was nothing you could do about that now, you just had to keep on going, so you did.

The golden thread snaked through the gothic city and went from the “posh” part of the city all the way to the worst part of the city. The buildings were run down and most of the windows were boarded up. Each turn you took there were shiftier and shiftier characters on every corner. You started to get the feeling that you really shouldn’t be here. Plus you were starting to wonder if you really wanted to know who your soulmate was if they were hanging out in neighbourhoods like this.

You brought your car to a stop in front of a particularly dark and sinister looking alleyway. A particularly dark and sinister looking alleyway that your golden thread lead straight into. Coming to this part of this city was already a bad idea. Continuing to follow that thread to what had to be your certain doom was even worse. Yet, at this point in your mission, you were pretty much committed.

You couldn’t help out a quiet and very nervous laugh as you climbed out of your car. ‘ This is fucking insane ,’ you thought as you stepped out of your car. Before shutting and locking it (though you doubt that would do much to protect it in this area), you grabbed your pepper spray. ‘ I really hope your worth all this .’

As you followed the thread down the alleyway, you heard a sudden loud bang. A gunshot. You stopped in your tracks and you could feel your heart pick up its pace. Your thread lead in the direction the shot had come from. ‘ I really hope you weren’t involved with that .’ Taking a deep breath, you continued down the alleyway.

The alleyway lead out onto another street. There was a small crunching sound as you stepped out onto the street. Taking a step back, you looked to the ground to see what you had just stepped on. The ground was littered with small shards of glass. Looking up, you figured the shards of glass were from the bulbs from the streetlamps. Something had broken them. It didn’t take you long to figure out what, or rather who ,was responsible.

Further down the street, taking on group of ten men, was none other than Gotham’s Caped Crusader. The Batman.

You quickly ducked back into the alley you had just left. You then carefully peered around the wall, so you could watch the fight. You were well aware of the fact that your thread was leading straight toward the fight. Which meant that your soulmate was involved.

You watched the fight intensely, both intrigued and terrified to figured which one of the men was on the end of your thread. There was a voice in the back of your head praying hardcore that it was the hero in the centre of the fight.

Batman was a blur of black and dark grey as he rapidly made his way through the group of men. With a variety of different punches, kicks and gadgets, he made short work of them. During his combat flow, you followed your thread with your eyes and a small gasp left you as you realised who the other end was attached to.

Holy fuck. You’re friends had, kind of, been right. While your soulmate wasn’t Wonder Woman or Superman, like they had suggested, he was apart of the Justice League’s ‘Big Three’. Your soulmate was Batman . At least now you knew why he hadn’t come looking for you. He’d been busy saving the world.

Now you had to figure out how to approach him before he ended up disappearing into the night.

Exiting your cover, you took your thread between your finger and thumb and gently tugged on it a couple of times.

Batman looked at his end of the thread curiously as your tugs had gotten his attention. Then his head drifted upwards, following where it lead till his eyes settled on you.

If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, his eyes never leaving you. Part of you wanted to cower away from the intense stare, but you willed yourself not to. He was your soulmate, and you weren’t a criminal,  you had no reason to be afraid.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, finally ending the silence between you. His voice was deep and almost robotic sounding. Probably some sort of voice modulator to help hide his identity, you figured.

“In Gotham? Yeah, this place really sucks,” you replied, thinking about all the things you had heard about this city, “but I came here to find my soulmate; to find you.”

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice was sharp and serious as he spoke. He also sounded irritated at your sudden appearance, which caused you to frown. That couldn’t be right… could it?

“What?” You hated how meek and pathetic your voice sounded, but you couldn’t help it. Wasn’t this supposed to be a happy moment? One of the happiest in your life in fact. Instead you felt like you were being scolded rather than meeting the person who was supposed to be your other half.

“I didn’t want to meet you. Now I suggest you go home. It’s not safe here.”

What? You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There was pressure behind your eyes and your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath as you took a step backwards away from him. It quickly sunk in that the man you’d been destined to be with, the man you had thought about since you were old enough to understand the concept of a soulmate, wanted nothing to do with you.

“I-I’m sorry I disturbed you.” Your voice broke as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. You weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. You then turned around and ran back toward where you had left your car.

As fast as you could, you started your car up and made your way to a safer part of the city. It didn’t take you long to find a somewhat empty parking lot to park in. Once the engine was off, you screamed and aggressively slammed against the wheel as you let the tears freely fall.

You felt like a complete and utter fucking idiot. Of course he didn’t want you. You’d probably just get in the way of him saving the world or something like that. Besides, what was that article you had seen a few months ago? Something about Catwoman and a relationship between the two? While it happened very rarely, some people in the world had been known to reject their soulmate because they had found someone they deemed better. Is that what had happened? Whatever the reason, you could feel your heart breaking.

You had used to think that, out of all the members of the Justice League, Batman had been one of the cooler members. Now all you could think was that he was a massive jerk.

Maybe it was your own fault for romanticising the whole thing and thinking that your meeting would be something out of a fairytale. Apparently fate was far crueller than you could have ever thought it to be.

Bruce watched as she ran away from him, back down the alleyway she had come from. A small voice in the back of his head told him to go after her. To grab her, hold her close and apologise, tell her that he hadn’t meant it. He ignored it and headed off in the opposite direction, back to where he had left the batmobile.

Over his comms, he heard a barely audible sigh and he could easily picture his butler and lifelong friend shaking his head in disappointment. No doubt he was going to get an earful once he got back to the batcave. Well it certainly wasn’t the first time.

As the batmobile pulled up in the batcave, he could see Alfred waiting for him. ‘ Here we go ,’ he thought as he got out of his car and removed his cowl.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he stated as he walked past him and toward the batcomputer. He set his cowl down on the desk. Even as the words left his mouth he knew he had wasted his breath. If there was one thing that Alfred had done consistently since Bruce had started down this path, it was letting him know when he disagreed with something he did.

“Was that really necessary Master Bruce? She’s come all of this way…” Alfred started, but ended up trailing off. There was a small moment of silence before he continued. “You know, I remember a small boy who couldn’t wait to go out there and find…” Before he could finish what he was saying, Bruce promptly cut him off.  

“What would you have me do, Alfred?!” His voice echoed off of the cave’s walls and disturbed some of the bats still hanging on the ceiling. Bruce gestured toward his equipment and the display cases that held some rather badly damaged batsuits. All of them testaments to injuries that had come far too close to killing him. “Would you really have me force this life on to her? The dangers, the no guarantee I’ll come home…” He took a deep breath and rested both his hands on the surface of his desk. “She deserves so much better.” His voice was quiet, but still easily heard in the, almost, silent cave.

“With all due respect, sir, I believe she should be allowed to make that decision, not you,” Alfred replied before leaving the batcave, not giving Bruce a chance to respond.

He looked in the direction of the stairs that lead up into the manor. The direction that Alfred had headed in. Was he right? Should he be leaving it up to her to decide what she wanted? But with all the dangers he faced nightly… No, it was better for him to stay far away from her.

Over the following week Bruce found himself distracted. It didn’t matter where he was, what he was doing, he couldn’t focus. And considering what he did once night fell over Gotham, to say being unfocused really wasn’t good was a complete understatement of the situation. He had been having far too many close calls recently.

He couldn’t get it out of his head. The way she had looked at him as he told her he didn’t want to meet her, that she should leave. Alfred’s words echoed in his mind and he found himself questioning the decisions he had made that night. Something that Bruce rarely, if ever, did. Everything he did was meticulously planned and there was never any doubt when he made a decision. Was this what happened once you met your soulmate and rejected them?

Bruce was sure that the rest of the Justice League had taken notice. With how off beat and slow to react to certain things, it would be hard not to. Of course, if they had, none of them had mentioned it to him. Apparently they knew better. For the time being, at least. He was sure it wouldn’t be long before they did try to pry into his personal life.

Which lead him here. On the roof of the building opposite of Y/N’s apartment building. He hadn’t needed to do any extensive research to find her, or learn her name, because he had been in this exact spot a couple of years ago.

Two years ago Bruce’s own curiosity had gotten the better of him. He blamed Clark and his soulmate, a reporter by the name of Lois Lane, for it. He had seen them one too many times in the Watchtower together and had found himself wondering who exactly his soulmate was and what they was like. As a result, he had gone looking for them. Not because he wished to finally meet them, but so he could make sure his soulmate was safe and happy. And she was, so he had left. Only ever checking up on her every now and then to make sure she had stayed that way.

He looked down at the golden thread that came out of his gauntlet and lead down toward the apartment he’d been watching. Both as Bruce Wayne and Batman he had made sure to keep it well hidden. With its unique colouring he couldn’t allow anyone to see it. It would be all too easy for his enemies to find her if they did see it.

He knew that by being here he was easily undoing everything he had done to keep her safe, but, then again, had she not done exactly that when she had tracked him down in Gotham? Besides, and while he would never say it out loud, Alfred had been right. It should be up to Y/N to decide whenever or not she wanted all the baggage that came with him being in her life. Baggage that had driven more than one person from his life…

He shook that thought from his head and got up from his crouched position on the roof. Bruce then leapt from the roof and allowed himself to fall for a couple of seconds before opening up his cape and let it catch the wind that was rushing past him. He silently glided over to her apartment’s balcony.

Y/N was in her apartment alone. She was sat on her sofa, the light from the tv was the only thing illuminating the room.

Bruce was unsure of how exactly to go about this. Back in Gotham he had originally thought of approaching her as Bruce Wayne, but quickly discarded it. Bruce Wayne showing up at an out of the way apartment building was sure to garner attention. As would Batman using the front door, so the balcony had seemed to be the best option. But now that he was here, he wasn’t entirely sure it was.

Should he just knock? That seemed like the best way to go about this. It was going to scare the everloving daylights out of her, but he could deal with that.

He gently rapped the glass of the balcony door with his knuckles. As he had expected, Y/N leapt up from her seat. A bowl and the contents of the bowl followed her and scattered across her carpeted floor. She spun around and when she saw him, the look of shock on her face quickly turned to anger. Her eyes narrowed and he swore that glare would be enough to make even the toughest of Gotham’s thugs would cower at its intensity. Maybe she would deal with his life better than he thought.

After a minute of glaring at him, she turned around and walked toward the lightswitch. At the same time, she gestured for him to enter.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded as soon as he had entered the apartment and shut the door behind him. The rage in her voice was evident and Bruce was sure he could cut the tension in the room with a batarang.

“I came to apologise,” he said, his voice gentle despite how distorted his modulator made it sound. Y/N scoffed immediately. He didn’t blame her. If he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t believe him either. After all ‘Batman’ wasn’t exactly known for making apologies.

“Yeah right.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m being truthful. I… I shouldn’t have said what I said. It wasn’t right.”

“Then why did you say it?” A fair question and one he had an answer to. Before he even said it, Bruce was aware how cliché it sounded.

“I wanted to keep you safe. This life isn’t for everyone.”

“So without even meeting me, you decided that it wasn’t for me.” She shook her head. “That’s not your decision to make!” she yelled at him.

“I know. It’s been pointed out to me before.” In fact that night in the cave wasn’t the first time Alfred had told him that. “But that’s why I’m here now. To give you all the information you need to make that decision.”

You listened intently as Batman explained the dangers of the life he was leading. The dangers that effected the people in his life in one way or another. He also made it a point to reiterate the fact that when he left at night or was summoned by the Justice League there was no guarantee he would return. You asked the occasional question, but for the most part you just listened to him to talk and let his words sink in.

You got it. You understood the very clear concerns that Batman had about this whole thing, they concerned you as well, but you weren’t about to let it deter you. You wanted to know your soulmate. Even if it ended horribly, like he was saying it would, you felt it in your core that you would regret not knowing him, especially if the worst truly did happen. And you told him so.

“Even if you’re not wearing a mask, this life is dangerous. Anything can happen.”

“Anything could happen to me when I leave my apartment each day.”

The superhero life wasn’t special in that regard. As you spoke, your voice was a lot calmer than it had been earlier. In fact, as he had spoke and explained you had found your anger slowly fading. You still wanted to slap the jerk superhero before you, but that was a considerable downgrade from your overwhelming need to deck him when you first saw him standing on your balcony.

“It won’t be easy.”

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge before.”  

You admired his commitment to deter you, but it wasn’t going to work. You were too stubborn to let it. Something you were positive he was learning very quickly.

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you that this is a bad idea, is there?”  

“Nope.” You made sure to pop the ‘p’.

Batman sighed deeply. You watched as he looked away from you and toward the golden thread that linked the two of you together. You could almost hear the gears in his brain turning as he thought. Then he was looking back up at you.

“In that case then.”

You watched as Batman brought his hands up to his cowl. Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help the small gasp that left you as he removed the cowl and revealed his identity to you. Bruce Wayne. While you didn’t live in Gotham City, you were well aware of Gotham’s favoured son. You would’ve had to have lived underneath a rock to not know who he was.

And apparently your family had been right on the money, literally. Not that you cared about the money, you weren’t superficial like that. Personality was far more important than the material items someone may or may not have. In your eyes, at least.

You both stood in silence, his blue eyes studying you, probably trying to gauge how you were going to react. To be truthful, you weren’t entirely sure how to react. Except maybe…

“Well, it’s… it’s nice to meet you Bruce Wayne. I guess this is the part where we forget about what happened and start over?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Yeah, sure, this was probably going to end horribly, but you were looking forward to the adventure that lie ahead.

[thelovelyghostwriter]

Some of my favourite female characters in fiction

This list is not exhaustive and while I do have other characters that I find charming and that I love, I have noted these characters because in my opinion, they have struggled and/or there is a certain analysis to their personalities. 

Please take note that some of the characters are not morally good or have done questionable actions. This is not to discuss or say they are role models, but rather to write up what they represented, their role in the story or simply their personalities. I’m not here to justify the character’s actions.

Remember that a well-written characters do not have to be morally good. 

Also, a lot of them are from memory and the analysis aren’t well-structured. 

Let’s dive in:

1. Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby

Daisy, in my opinion, is incredibly misunderstood and unjustifiably hated among the readers. Her betrayal to Gatsby is indeed vile and it did upset me, I definitely think that she is materialistic, shallow and hurtful.  

“I hope she’ll be a fool—that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”

Daisy did shit on Gatsby [trying to avoid spoilers here].  

However, I do like to note that I think part of her materialism and shallowness is because of how women were in the 1920s. They did not have any freedom or agency. To Tom, she seems to be a trophy wife for him to keep; and to Gatsby, he only liked the idea of her, he wasn’t in love with her. To everyone around her, she was an item, a beautiful doll to be possessed, rather than a person. I think that’s why she turned out like that. 

She's materialistic because men around her sees her as an object. Nonetheless, Daisy is still “careless” and hurtful; and I think this stemmed from the life she had led that were a compilation of choices that were made for her. Her betrayal towards Gatsby is what makes her character rather disappointing to most readers. The whiteness in her dress as described in her first appearance? It’s not innocence, but rather a void and jadedness. 

2. Neon Nostrade from Hunter x Hunter

Yet, another girl in our list that loves to be hated by the fandom. Though honestly, most of her haters are Chrollo and Kurapika stans who gets jealous because Chrollo got to hang out with her and Kurapika works under her. Also her repulsive hobby - although this is actually what makes me like her. 

I have addressed this in my other posts before, but let me just copy and paste them (and modify a bit):  Her upbringing and exploitation by her dad makes her materialistic and emotionally detached. This materialism and detachment is manifested in the form of her hobby as a dead body parts collector. But other than that, she’s really a normal girl, just sheltered and spoilt. The money she spends are even from her talent Lovely Ghostwriter, her father will be nothing without her. So I don’t see an issue with her spending them on shopping etc. 

In fact, I would argue that she bathes in materialism to fill the emptiness that she has. Her father is more concerned with her ability and power, she has no friends and is guarded 24/7 by employees.

All the times she threw tantrums and the way she talks… it’s a different speech pattern altogether when she interacts with Chrollo - which may suggest that the whole spoilt attitude is exaggerated to gain attention from a father who is indulgent in terms of material gifts, but not in terms of affection and time for her.

When Eliza cried, she was willing to forgo bidding the auction physically. Yes she did not care about the bodyguards because she is more focused on the living and the present (Eliza) than the dead.

The reason why she didn’t seem fazed when Dalzollene and the others died is because a) they were her bodyguards, it’s their job to put their life on the line to protect her, b) she mentioned to Chrollo that her fortune-telling is for the living, she likes to live in the present and doesn’t believe in the afterlife.

Neon is more focused on who is alive, rather than the dead (which also represented by her hobby of dead body parts collecting). She focuses on the present, unlike her clients who likes to know their future or people who dwell in the past. Kurapika on the other hand, is the complete opposite. He dwells on the past and likes to focus on his dead clan rather than the present times with his friends (which is completely understandable).

Another significance is that her fortune-telling ability is very useful and helpful, she says that she wanted to make people happy with it; but however, it is commercialized and used as a means of power (knowledge of the future = power) by her father and pretty much everyone around her. Just like how she objectifies dead people by collecting their parts, the people around her sees her as a tool due to her fortune-telling abilities, rather than see her as a person. Even Kurapika chose to get employed under her, for his own agenda (he is bound to meet dead body parts collectors at some point). 

She treats people like objects because people see her as one.

Of course, collecting dead body parts is a pretty fucked hobby; but what she represents and her role as a minor character is what makes her an outstanding minor female character in the show. 

Yes. She has traits that are not your typical role model, but neither are other hxh characters. She’s not independent, naive, can’t fight, in need of saving, uncaring at times and spoilt. She is far from so-called “strong female character” that we often look up to. She is a character with bad traits which is a result of being a victim. But that’s what makes me love her as a character in hxh. It reminds us that there are girls out there who has lack of freedom and control over their own fate; and their only way out is through materialism and detaching themselves from people. 

In fact, she might be even relateable to some people more than other female characters because there is vulnerability in her character.

3. Hua Mulan (Mostly the Chinese 2009 film, though the most well-known is the Disney 1998 animated film)

There has been various adaptations for this character, with the Disney Animated version being the most prominent.

However, my favourite one is definitely the Chinese film Hua Mulan: Rise of A Warrior (2009). It portrays the horrors of war and the suffering it brings, nationalism, camaraderie among the army - all while giving us the admirable Mulan climbing up to the ranks of being a war general.

I highly recommend this adaptation. I know the Disney Live Action 2020 version did not receive good reception, and we honestly did not need one because this 2009 Chinese film does the job well (I like their soundtrack though). It's not really well-known because it's a Chinese film (which is hella ironic because Hua Mulan is a Chinese character? Lmao).

"Today we will stain the battlefield with our blood. Behind us is our homeland. If we have to bleed out our last drop of blood, if we have to become bleached bones in this desert, we must defend it to the death! We must let the Rourans know we Wei warriors will never surrender and will never compromise! Soldiers may rebel against me, generals may leave me for dead, but I, Hua Mulan, will never betray my country!"

Generally, I either have an issue with strong female characters because they are just shallow (meaning they are only physically strong, often viewing rudeness, misandry and independence as strength). I like female characters who are so much more to that.

Mulan, in this film, not only showed her badassery in fighting the war for more than a decade, but we also see how much she struggled. Everytime her comrades die, her heart gets broken. Yet she has to learn how to pick herself up and become the leader that they need. She dislikes war, she dislikes the bloodshed; yet she fights for her country.

To me, a strong female character is not just a feminist icon or someone who can fight. In fact, a female character doesn't need to be someone capable of fighting, what makes her strong is to be able to overcome turbulence with determination.

I think this is something that is lacking in recent "strong female characters" - showing us their strength through perseverance.

As for the Disney's counterpart (talking about the 1998 film here), it is less morbid but we also see her trying her best to make her family proud and protect her country. Like the song Reflection and Loyal, Brave and True, she struggles with finding her purpose and her role in her family.

"The greatest gift of honour, is having you for a daughter."

4. Blanche Dubois from A Streetcar Named Desire

It's been years since I had analysed Blanche, but among all the 6 books that I had to study for English Literature, A Streetcar Named Desire has been my absolute favourite.

I think what struck me in this book is not just the style, but Blanche's vulnerability. Her actions are definitely not morally good: she misrepresents things, she lies, she even had sex with an underage student. She's paranoid, mentally unstable and prissy. Which was why, her polar opposite character, Stanley, is so annoyed with her.

After her husband's suicide, we see Blanche relying on the company of men to fill the void of her loneliness and misery. She is also concerned about her beauty fading with age - I find that highly reliable. It sounds incredibly "vain", but beauty does play a part.

Based on Evolutionary and Mating Theories among humans, appearance in women are especially important (also for men but not as much as women). Of course, there are other factors and traits that people find attractive, but Blanche's concern is valid here. She needs to find a husband to escape from her financial troubles; and her age, beauty and chastity plays a huge factor in her search for getting a man in the setting she was in (which was Mitch in this case). Ironically, these are the very traits that she has "lost" and so desperately tries to hide it.

Her ending is truly a devastating and upsetting one. [Will not talk about it due to spoilers]

"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

5. Haibara Ai/Shiho Miyano from Detective Conan

Perhaps one of the girls that is a wasted potential. In a series where the characters are mostly flat, she's arguably the most multi-faceted (but somehow I had heard that she no longer has the same complexity as she used to have - it's been a while since I followed this series).

But I remember absolutely loving this character.

Her background story is really unique in the show and one that is embedded within the Black Organisation plotline (why her character was dropped... Forever frustrating for me).

From the moment she was first introduced, we see Conan taking an immediate distrust towards her. A guy who is a detective who had been catching criminals - yet one ex-syndicate member stands before him. The one that actually helped to develop the APTX4869 that changed his life.

Yet, we see that it wasn't entirely within her control. Both her parents were syndicate members and when her sister tries to get both of them to leave, her sister dies.

Ai starts off as seemingly cold, pessimistic and avoidant. But as her arc goes on, the iceberg around her melts. We see her quirky sarcastic replies, her taste for fashion and she genuinely desires to be happy. Her relationship with Conan developed into a beautiful one - to the point where Conan trusts her with anything and they would risk their lives for one another.

Yet, we also empathies with her impending jealousy and heartache. The boy she has fallen for already has someone else. What's more, the girl is genuinely kind and is a splitting image of her sister. After Ran saved her from Vermouth, she quickly warms up to Ran as well.

She's also the key to developing the antidote for Shinichi to be back with Ran - an almost painful metaphor for her to give him away (he never belonged to her in the first place). Yet, she doesn't really stop them from being together (even though in some cases she appears jealous or phrase ShinRan's reunion as a word of caution).

I definitely think she is the most compelling character in Detective Conan because of her character development and the struggles she faces. It's definitely upsetting that her character has been neglected.

“Don’t judge people from the outside. Like any rose has thorns, the more the person appears nice on the outside, the more you should doubt the inside.”

6. Misato Katsuragi from Neon Genesis Evangelion

Who is the best female character in Eva? Asuka or Rei? My answer will always be Misato, Risato is a close second (I wanted to analyse Risato, but I’m trying to keep it to one person per series). Misato is one of the 90s anime babes. She definitely captivated many people’s heart. 

I must say though, I have a soft spot towards female characters who has some sort of daddy issues (why I like Neon Nostrade). It’s been a while since I had watched Eva, but I’m going to try to remember why I like her. 

I think the concept of Hedgehog’s Dilemma has been echoed throughout the series, and all the characters seem to struggle with emotional attachment towards people. I actually like to phrase the Hedgehog Dilemma as “Avoidant-Fearful Attachment Style” - wanting connection with people, yet not being able to do so out of fear of being hurt. 

For Misato, when I initially first watched Eva, I compared her a little to Blanche Dubois in how they cope with loneliness - their sexuality. I remember being confused with her interactions with Shinji, who was half her age. At times, she serves as his guardian/mother figure; but at some moments (I think it was sometimes after Kaji’s death), she tried to seek comfort with Shinji by attempting to initiate sex (which Shinji rejects). I remember coming across a comment somewhere that Shinji and Misato’s relationship is somewhat like Humbert and Dolores (from Lolita) - can’t comment on this as I only read the first chapter of the book. 

It makes me think that she uses sex as a way to cope and the only way she can connect with people (and it’s superficial), which doesn’t work for Shinji because she needs to be her guardian (and ultimately fails to be purely his guardian once she crossed that no-no boundary). 

Another thing to note was her backstory about her dad. There seems to be a dissonance, given that she resented her dad for not spending time with her due to his work, but he ended up sacrificing her life for her. I do think it’s a bit of guilt (because resenting her dad but he saves her - these two contradicts one another). It’s clear that her issues to connect stems from her backstory regarding her father. 

It’s interesting how she compares Kaji to her father. I do think she loves Kaji, but “reminds him too much of her father” (as to put it simply). There is this... stereotype that we find someone similar to our opposite-gender parents, no matter how shitty they were towards us. I believe that it is because we tend to stick to something that is familiar to us, even if those type of people aren’t good for us (I think to break this cycle is to practise self-awareness and know what is good for us). 

Anyway, Misato is a character that I really liked (as all the characters in Eva) because they highlight Hedgehog’s Dilemma that stemmed from their parental issues. Maybe I have not watched a lot of anime, but female characters with issues with their fathers are not as explored deeply as male characters and their parental issues. A lot of times, female characters (especially in shounen) serves as a romantic interest and yes they can have really sad backstory, but not issues towards their father and how it affects their relationship with other people. So far, the only ones I had seen is Mukuro (Yu Yu Hakusho), Misato and Neon Nostrade. 

7. Disney's Cinderella

First of all, she has been a victim of abuse since she was a child. It's not easy for her to escape her predicament. Where can she go? It's not that easy.

Boy. I hate how much people remember Cinderella wrongly and attack her for being "backwards", which is actually factually wrong.

Cinderella always get flack for using the Prince to "escape" her predicament when "she can do it herself".

I say that's bullshit. I actually came across a youtube video: Cinderella Stop Blaming the Victim [please check it out for more in-depth analysis]

Despite all that, she's doesn't internalize it. She knows she doesn't deserve to be treated this way, and she does to a certain degree stand up to them (whenever the cat makes her tasks harder). She knows when to fight back and restrain herself because it might endanger her life.

After years of suffering in this domestic household, she remains kind, compassionate and hopeful. Which is not an easy feat. The problem is, these traits are often seen as feminine and synonymous with being weak. But it is actually, in fact, signs of strength. The mental fortitude she has to remain kind after all she went through is a sign of strength.

The Fairy Godmother only appeared when she was losing hope - take note that she ends up crying because her stepsisters tore her mother’s dress (which is the most disturbing scene in the film). 

Even I had remembered this wrongly - one crucial fact is that... She did not want to go the ball to nab the Prince. That was her stepsisters. Homegirl just wanted to chill. She did not even know she was dancing with the Prince!

When Lady Tremaine locked her up to prevent her from reaching the Prince, it wasn’t the Prince that saved her. She and her animal friends got her out of the room, and proceeded to prove that she was indeed the maiden that had danced with the Prince. Her marrying the Prince was only a fitting end to her because it provides her a home and an escape from an abusive household; however, it was her resilience for holding onto fate and being mentally strong, and her initiatives partially contributed to her happy end. The Prince is more like a passive character. 

I highly think that people tend to brush her traits - e.g. compassion, having fate, being kind is listed as feminine. However, it is far from being weak, which most people would deem it as. But that is definitely not true. 

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish can come true.”

8. Mikasa Ackerman from Attack on Titan

Mikasa is either a hit or miss among AOT fans. Some people like Mikasa because she is physically strong and her loyalty to Eren is admirable. On the other hand, some people think she’s clingy and her being physically strong makes her a Mary Sue. 

Whether or not you like Mikasa, there is a fact that she is not a Mary Sue. The definition of a Mary Sue is a female character lacking in weakness and seems perfect. 

She is physically strong, yes - I believe that Isayama wanted to distribute traits to the trio. Even Hannes has said it in S1. Armin represents intellect, Eren represents grit and Mikasa represents strength. So her being physically strong makes sense, and Isayama also provided an explanation for it (being an Ackerman). 

However, this does not mean she lacks any weakness. Arguably, her loyalty to Eren is both a liability and her strength. This “weakness” has been highlighted by her dilemma between her loyalty towards Eren and her belief that mass genocide is wrong.

[I won’t go into details about the manga parts that have not been animated as of 2021, can’t spoil it too much]. 

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 6

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Sibling bonding at its finest, fighting and breaking rules

First< Previous> Next

----

“Maman, Papa, we’re fine,” Marinette holds the phone between them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home?” Tom asks through speaker phone.

“No Papa, Nette worked hard for this trip,” Marion insists, they are sitting in the back of Bruce's car with him and Selina in the front.

“We both work-”

“Both want to stay, that's right,” Marion cuts her off, grinning at her glare, “Besides we have things to do here remember ?”

“Ok, but if you change your minds,” Sabine frets, they do have a concert coming up.

“We’ll be on the first flight back,” Marinette agrees, Aunt Selina leans back and she holds up the phone for her.

“Don’t worry Tom, I’ll keep them out of trouble,” She tells her brother.

“You’re the last person I trust to do that,” Tom laughs from the other end of the line.

“Rude,” She glares down at the phone.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Sabine speaks over her husbands laughter.

“Thank you Sabine, you're my favourite person in Paris,” She winks at the twins, whispering "Right now,"

"Hey!" Tom shouts from the phone.

“Of course,” Sabine chuckles over her husband,“We have to go back to the bakery now,”

“We’ll talk later,” Tom promises, "Have fun,"

“See ya,” Selina sits back upright.

“Bye Papa, Maman,” Marinette moves to hang up

“Also we met Aunt Selina's fiance! Bye!" Marion blurts, everyone in the car freezes.

“WHA-” Marion hangs up.

“Marion! That was…..” Their Aunt shouts before giggling, turning into full blown laughter,“... That was so…”

The twins start laughing as well, making her give up on whatever lecture she was going to launch into.

“Selina, your phones ringing,” Bruce says, as she calms down.

“Yeah, it’s probably going to do that for awhile,” Selina turns it to silent and ignores the call, then turns to Marion,“Don’t ever do that again,”

“Are you planning on getting remarried?” Marion asks cheekily.

“Quite the thing to admit in front of your fiance,” Marinette adds, glancing at Bruce to see he is also smiling slightly. Years with Kagami had trained her to notice those hints of emotion.

“Brats,” She huffs turning back around.

“We love you,” They chorus.

“Brats,” Selina shakes her head fondly just as they approach the gates.

Marinette stares in awe at the large estate. The architecture and gardens immediately had her pulling out her sketch book to jot down ideas. She gets pushed out of the car by Marion and keeps drawing as they walk towards the Manor doors.

"You're home is beautiful," Marinette compliments Bruce.

"Thank you, I think so too," Bruce says as the doors open.

“Welcome home, Master Bruce, Miss Selina,” Alfred stands in the doorway, “And you, Miss Dupain-Cheng and Mr Cheng-Dupain, welcome to Wayne Manor.”

“It’s good to see you again, please, just Marinette's fine,” Marinette puts away her sketchbook.

“Yeah, I'd rather you just call me Marion,” Marion beams at him, before whispering, “Did we even tell you our last names?… witchcraft,”

“Very well, please come this way,” Alfred guides them into the Manor, stopping outside a door, "Master Damian is waiting, I must be off to prepare dinner,"

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce tells the butler as he leaves.

They enter the living room type area. A boy who couldn't even be thirteen yet stands. 'He's so small' Marinette thinks to herself.

"Father," He glares at her and Marion.

“This is my son Damian,” Bruce introduces, “Damian met Marinette and Marion,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Marinette smiles, holding her hand out.

“Tt” Damian looks away, getting a glare from Bruce before taking her hand, “... Likewise,”

Selinas phone buzzes again. Drawing attention away from the insincere tone.

“I should probably answer them, or they’ll never leave us alone,” Their Aunt sighs taking out her phone, “Bruce come with me, I’m sure they’ll want to meet you,”

“Is this going to be a pleasant conversation?” He asks.

“No its going to be very painful,” Marinette smiles, knowing they were about to have a very long conversation with her over excited Papa. He would probably have planned their wedding by the time they manage to hang up.

“Right,” Bruce says hesitantly, he turns to Damian with a pointed look, “Behave,”

"Tt," is Damian's response as he is left alone with them.

Marion sits down. Marinette follows sitting next to him on one of couches, surprised at how soft it is. Damian sits down on an armchair, picking up a book.

“So, Damian how old are you?" Marinette asks, after a full minute of silence

“12,” He doesn't look up from his book

“... We’re 18, twins if you couldn't tell,” Marion steps in gesturing between them.

“I could,” Damian answers shortly.

“Right... so what are your hobbies?” Marinette tries again.

“... painting,” Damian concedes under her expectant gaze.

“Oh, can we see?” She asks excitedly.

“No,” Damian snaps. She doesn't let that discourage her, she doesn't like showing strangers her designs. Apart from the millions of strangers who see her designs anyway.

“Alright, I get that," Marion shares the sentiment, "What about-Oh my god,”

“What?” Damian finally looks up from his book, scanning the room for the cause of his outburst.

“Kitty!” Marion practically leaps from the couch to get a better look at the cat sauntering across the room.

“Oh no,” Marinette sighs watching her brother melt over the cat.

“That’s Alfred,” Damian tells them eyeing the cat and Marion with mild amusement.

“After Alfred, Alfred your butler?” Marinette tries not to snicker at the name.

“Yes, pennyworth is his namesake,” Damian nods, glare daring Marinette to laugh.

“Can I pet him?!” Marion pleads, with baby-doll eyes  that could put Manon to shame.

“You can try, Alfred is very selective about who pets him,” Damian grants, and Marion sits on the ground, inching closer.

“I wouldn’t worry, Mari has a way with cats,” Marinette smirks, thinking back to the time she had to fight an Akuma alone because he was being smothered by cats.

“Come here Alfred,” Marion rubs his hand on the ground, Alfred watching closely.

“Do you have any other pets?” Marinette asks, Damian puts down his book.

“I have Titus, a great dane,” Damian watches as Alfred gives in and pounces on Marion’s hand, “Batcow, self explanatory,”

“Bat-cow mutant?” Marion guesses letting Alfred sniff his hand.

“No,” Damian's irritation shows, “She has patch shaped like the Bat symbol,”

“Oh, that was my second guess,” Alfred lets Marion scratch behind his ear.

“Can we see them?” Marinette excited over meeting Batcow.

“They’ll be around here somewhere, roaming the manor grounds,” Damian responds, non committaly.

“Alfred the Cat, feels weird to call them both Alfred,” Marion muses, Damian looks surprised as the cat climbs into this lap.

“Have you any pets?” Damian asks his first question about them.

“No, we live in a bakery so it would be a health code violation,” Marinette answers sadly. She doubts a box of animal type Kwamis are regulation either but no one has to know about that.

“Al-at? no,” Marion talks to himself, or more likely the cat.

“That’s a shame,” Damian acknowledges monotonously, watching as Alfred the cat starts to purr as Marion scratches his chin.

“We did try to sneak strays in when we were little,” Marinette is unwilling to let the conversation drop.

“Ca-Fred, Cat-Fred!” Marion exclaims, apologising seconds later to the newly dubbed Cat-fred for startling him.

“Try?” Damian sneers.

“The first few times were a disaster, we didn’t get past the front door,” Marinette explains, “Maman and Papa would send them to the shelter straight away,”

“At least they didn’t put them back out on the street,” Damian muses.

“They would never,” Marion responds, in baby talk directed at Cat-fred.

"You don't have to use that ridiculous voice," Damian scolds.

"I know," Marion answers, in the same voice, Damian glowers.

“As we got older we started being able to actually get them inside before being found out,” Marinette distracts him from Marion's taunting.

“One of us would be the distraction and the other snuck in, with a sleeping cat or dog, that one we learnt the hard way,” Marion uses a normal voice, still showering Cat-fred with attention.

“I think that is how I got my reputation for being clumsy,” Marinette sighs, it was always left up to her to distract their parents by knocking something over while Marion snuck in.

“What can I say? Cats love me,” Marion proves his point as Alfred turns over, letting him see his belly.

“I can see that,” Damian seems amused as much as he is surprised.

“At first, they’d find them in a few hours, so we learnt by trial and error,” Marinette continues, relaxing into the couch. "We must have taken in at least a hundred strays,"

“I think the last one we had managed a few months before we go found out,” Marion guesses, they hadn't tried again since the received their miraculous.

For one because they couldn't afford their parents searching their room regularly and coming across the Kwamis. However being the heroes of Paris had also proven effective in getting people to adopt. Usually the first person they asked would immediately agree, if they were suited up.

“So how many more pets have you managed to smuggle in?” Marion stage whispers to Damian, the gap between them being too big to actually whisper, “In a place this big should be easy,”

“I’ve tried… Pennyworth has caught me each time,” Damian admits, looking down at the almost asleep Cat-fred.

“That man is a witch,” Marion declares with certainty.

“What?” Damian seems taken aback.

“He appears out of nowhere and knows too much,” Marion provides what Marinette is sure he considers evidence.

“Hn, that is true,” Damain starts to share his multiple accounts of such behaviour.

The three fall into easy conversation after that listening to and sharing stories.

“I must be going insane,” All their eyes snap to a man standing in the doorway “Demon spawns actually getting along with someone,”

“Todd,” Damian acknowledges coldly.

“Hi,” Marion waves with far more friendliness, “I’m Marion, this is Marinette, your names Todd was it?”

“Jason actually, I lived here and drop by every now and then, mainly when Alfred asks," He explains, sitting on another couch near Marion, "Heard about you had a run in with a villain today,”

“Did you?” Damian asks, the two having avoided it in their conversation so far.

“Yeah, got an earful from Aunt Selina,” Marion laughs nervously.

“Did you get hurt?” Jason looks over Marion, concern written all over his face.

“What? No I’m fine thanks,” Marion smiles, Marinette rolled her eyes she stretches her leg to press to his bruised side, "Ow! Nette!"

"No lying," She shrugs as Marion turns to her. Cat-fred runs at the sudden movement, making Marion pout.

"Rich coming from you," He mutters, turing back to see the look on Jason's face, "My side just a little bruised, doesn't hurt unless someone, oh i don't know, kicks me!"

"I didn't kick you, you drama queen," Marinette sticks her tongue out at him and he copies.

“Did Selina train you?” Damian reverts the conversation.

“A little when we were younger, we still to spar together,” Marinette pretends to go for a kick to his side again, expecting the easy block.

"One of the few instances we're allows to punch each other," Marion jokes, "Although I think I'll hold off for now, you're not above using my injury to your advantage,"

"I'm resourceful," Marinette corrects, "Also, now you're hurt when you're afraid to get you're ass beat?"

"Such crass language, young lady," Jason teases, Marinette pokes her tongue out again.

"I can spar you if Marion is unwilling," Damian offers, Marion grumbles something along the lines of 'I never said that'.

"Right now?" Marinette sizes him up, she could tell he had some training.

"If you want," Damian also starts to size her up.

"Hold up now, you can't do this," Jason steps in, Marinette starts to deflate, "In here, Alfred would stop you, lets go outside,"

She perks up, following Jason, Marion and Damian outside to a clear area of grass. She toes off her shoes and socks, knowing they were steel capped and would cause some serious damage. She also pulls off her scarf, not willing to give him any advantage. Damian keeps his shoes on, clicking his tongue. They start to circle each other, waiting for someone to make a move. Marinette feels the grass beneath her feet, she feels more like Ladybug in a way.

Damian breaks the standoff, lunging at her. Marinette side steps at the last second, reminding herself to tone it down. She tries to make use of the opening by getting behind him, but Damian instantly pivots to keep her in front of him. Marinette takes note he's a lot faster than anticipated and decides to test it. She makes the next move forward throwing a few punches to see how he reacts. Damian easily dodges each one, Marinette realises that she is unprepared to fight someone smaller than her. They did occasionally have to fight Akumatised children but that was with superpowers. She had never actually gone hand to hand with someone smaller.

Taking this into consideration she adjusts to a style she uses more when sparring Marion. They're both about the same size and he's fast so she can rarely use his weight against him like she usually would. Marinette stops trying to get behind Damian, instead planning to send him to the ground, knowing she had the size advantage. Damian seemingly notices this change and adjusts his defences.

'how well is he trained?' Marinette asks herself. Damian tries to goad her into attacking, throwing out punches. Marinette doesn't rise to the bait, dodging and blocking. Marinette dances around their sparring area, testing Damian's stamina while waiting for an opening. She sees her chance and is about to move into counter attack.

"Damian!" They both pause looking toward the manor to see Bruce and Selina.

"Marinette! what do you think you're doing?" Aunt Selina storms towards them.

"Uh... bonding?" She laughs nervously.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

The (Mis)Adventures of Kal and Moose - Puppy Love?

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader Warnings: Fluffy Summer Fun Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Kal and Moose seem to be popular, what can I say? 

Henry Cavill Master List

“Oscar, can you not torment Kal?”

“I'm not tormenting him,” the boy pouted, attempting to push the dog away. “He keeps sitting on me, Uncle Henry.”

“Kal, stop sitting on Oscar.” Henry scolded the big black and white Akita.

Henry swore he could see Kal roll his eyes, but did as he was asked and climbed off of Henry's nephew. Kal yawned and laid on the bed in the corner, like a “good dog”, another eye roll. Please, this was his domain. Nobody moved him from his spot on the couch, except for maybe Moose. Even then, they would compromise and Moose would lie across the humans.

Closing his eyes, Kal sighed, listening to his human and the two tiny humans playing another video game. They had spent a part of the day outside in the garden yesterday. This morning they went for Kal's regulation walkie, and now they were in the house – again. Kal huffed and yawned. He wished Moose was there, they could bounce around the garden chasing squirrels, cats, and scare the tiny humans with their loud but harmless boofings.

Sprawled out on the “dog bed” Kal whimpered in his sleep. Oblivious to the fact he had company. Dancing around Kal with more energy than he knew what to do with, Moose nosed the big dog and yelped at him. Kal sniffled and boofed in his sleep. Henry laughed watching Kal completely ignore his best friend.

“He's pretty wrecked,” Henry explained with a casual shrug.

“Kids do that to ya.” You laugh, calling Moose back to you. “How was last night?”

“Good, they slept well. Aiden was up in the night, he crawled in with me, and went back to sleep. Thankfully.” A soft chuckle, Henry looked over his shoulder at his nephews playing the video game that he had set up. “They're glued to that thing.”

“Ah, like their uncle.” You tease, nudging him in the side. “Why don't we wake sleeping beauty and head for the park? Moose could use a nice, long run. He's been inside all day. I had Alfie this morning, he had an appointment so no dogs allowed.”

Henry snorted. “You're welcome to try and pry them away.”

His brother and sister in law had left the 10 and 6 years old with their uncle for the weekend, it was their anniversary and Henry wasn't doing anything. He had gallantly offered to take his nephews, they arrived Thursday morning and would be leaving around mid day Sunday. How hard could it be? His sister in law had told him not to let them spend the entire weekend in front of a screen.

Easier said than done. He'd had them for 24 hours and the majority of their time, they weren't happy unless they were stuck in front of a game. Henry couldn't blame them, it was an activity the three of them were equally matched at, and they all enjoyed.

“Hey guys,” You call cheerfully, walking into the room. “What's going on?”

You had met Oscar and Aiden before, although you weren't overly familiar with the two boys, you hoped they had remembered you.

At they very least, they would likely remember Moose. He had been the unexpected star of the show, stealing the tray of sausages from the grill allowing himself and Kal to a fine meal. He then proceeded to vomit on the lawn where one of the other nephews managed to step and slip in it. Henry had assured you that it wasn't a big deal. Right, because it wasn't him having to face the shame or clean vomit off of his dog.

“Playing a game,” Aiden answered dropping his controller and turning to you. “Would you like to play? Uncle Henry said it's okay for kids.”

“I'm sure it is, but I don't want to play. Thanks.” You smile, rubbing Moose's back. He stands beside you sniffing the small human.

Kal is awake, stretching and wagging his tail. Moose is here and the fun is never far.

“Okay.” Aiden shrugs turning back to the game.

“Oscar, don't be rude.” Henry scolds from his spot holding up the door frame with his body.

“Oh, hey.” Oscar turns briefly to greet you.

“So, how many more levels to this game?”

“Seven.” Oscar's eyes never leave the screen.

“Ah. Well, I guess you're probably going to play those then. Sorry, Hen, looks like you and Kal are here all day.” You begin to talk, making no sense whatsoever to Henry.

“Wh-I don't.” Henry begins, when you wink at him. Indicating for him to follow the lead. “I guess we are. Too bad.”

Aiden's attention was now piqued. Ah yes, the little ones always caved first. Standing up and walking to his uncle, Aiden hangs onto Henry's hand for a second before whispering to him.

“What were we going to do?” Henry asks out loud. Kal prances and Moose begins to wiggle around as well. Aiden nods.

“I came over to see if your Uncle Henry wanted to go to lunch,  or maybe we could go to the park, then get an ice cream. But since you guys have seven levels left.” You shrug as casually as you can. “Guess Moose and I are on our own.”

“I want ice cream!” Aiden cheers. “Oscar, turn off the game. Turn it off! We can go get ice cream! Oscar!” the small boy pesters his big brother.

A sight all too familiar for Henry. He was often the one pestering his brothers to do cool things, too.

“Go away.” Oscar pushes Aiden to the side, trying to play the game.

“Oscar, don't push your brother.” Henry corrects. His brow knit, he means business. “Why don't we turn off the game and go to the park.”

Scowling, Oscar rolls his eyes, a Cavill trait. You can't help giggle at how much the two boys look like their uncle.

“Why can't she take him and we stay here?” Oscar pauses the game.

“Because we are all going, I said so.” Henry pulls rank over the sulking child. “Now, it is my game and I want it turned off. I will banish you from playing the rest of the weekend.”

Did that sort of thing actually work?

Indeed it did, for Henry at least. He didn't have to ask the second time. Oscar did as he was told, powering down the gaming system, not without a pout though. Dogs and children wrangled, everyone was out of the house in a timely fashion. Another grumble came, when the boys – primarily Oscar – realized that this was an adventure to be taken on foot.

Whatever, he would get over it.

Holding tightly to Moose's leash, Aiden walked proudly along side his uncle. The red Aussie being on his best behaviour, although you made sure to keep a close eye in case he got any ideas to run off with the child. Making it to the park in one piece, no run offs or mishaps, was nearly a miracle. Letting the two dogs off to play, Henry handed Oscar the ball and told him to throw it as far and hard as he could.

Aiden didn't go too far, sitting in the grass, chatting idly with you. He told you about his favourite subject at school. His favourite sport and hobbies. The topic of conversation got real, when he leaned in closer. Whispering that his favourite superhero was Ironman, but he would pretend to like Superman to make his uncle Henry happy.

Overhearing the confession, Henry shot you a wink and a slight nod. He was well aware of his nephew's acting skills.

Throwing the ball with his uncle, until the two dogs returned panting and tired, Oscar ignored you and Aiden. Enjoying the time he had to chat with Henry about various things. Sports mostly. He made the observation that the usually shy Aiden was your new best mate. Sitting on your knee in the grass, Aiden laughed as you tickled him. Your bonding interrupted by Kal wandering over and slobbering against your face.

“Kal!” You squeal and push the big dog away. “Get off.”

“I think he's saying it's time for ice cream.” Henry laughed, retrieving Kal.

“Ice cream!” Aiden cheered rushing to his feet, Moose dancing along beside him.

Settled on the grass under a big shady tree, Aiden had his wish. An ice cream cone in his hand, melted debris on his cheeks and chin. He was a picture of happy. Oscar sat with his back against the tree, watching  flock of birds near by. Henry rested beside him, Kal's leash in his hand. The big dog licking his paws, having finished a small cup of delicious ice cream.

Sitting beside Aiden, you hold your ice cream for Moose to take a lick. He had his own cup as well, although he refused to share with you. Funny how dogs and children were that way. Henry had shared his with you, insisting that you try the passion fruit frozen yogurt. Resting in the shade, you can't help but enjoy the comfortable silence between the four of you. The boys had been perfect all afternoon, you were certain their mother would be thrilled to hear that they had done something other than played video games. In the silence, Oscar shifted around, sitting to face his Uncle.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” Henry nodded.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Hearing the question, you nearly choke. Sputtering and wiping a hand across your chin.

“No, we're friends.” Henry rolls his eyes. Giving you an apologetic look.

“Friends who like to kiss?”

“No, friends who like to sacrifice small children who ask too many questions.” You speak without any thought on that comment. The sheer look of terror on the child's face is enough to force Henry into hiding his laughter.

“Uncle Henry, she's weird.” Aiden licks his ice cream cone, pushing the melting treat a little too hard. Resulting in it splatting to the ground, bottom lip trembling Aiden is on the verge of tears when Kal and Moose rush to the rescue. Kal hunting down the ice cream on the ground, cleaning up. Moose goes straight for the face, licking the remains off of the little boy's face. “Uncle Henry!” Aiden laughs as the dog's tongue tickles his face, Moose now joined by Kal.

“Boys, off.” You attempt to call off the dogs, while Henry has already gone to get Aiden a second cone. “Kal, Moose. Now.”

“Here we are,” Henry holds a new cone, laughing when he sees the sight. Aiden on the ground, Kal and Moose licking his face like it was their new day job. “Well, at least I won't have to clean him up.”

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[youarejesting]

Herb.2 The Date

Pairing: Dealer!Jimin x Reader Beta: N/A Genre: Romance, implied sexual activity, Fluff, Rating: recommended 18+ (or whatever the legal age is in your country) Words: 866 Warnings: Blow Job Summary: Jimin was the mary poppins of drug dealing. What ever you wanted he had and he NEVER disappoints his customer. That is until he met you. He finally decides to take matters into his own hands to fulfil your order.

[Masterlist] [Herb.1]

You didn’t know why you were nervous, you had seen him naked for christ sake but, there was something about him all dressed up and not his typical dealer getting up for house parties, no this was really dressed up. He had a blouse on which you had a sneaking suspicion was for women but he made it look so much better, and his pants were black trousers high waisted accentuating his long legs the fabric around his thighs straining to contain his thick muscular legs.

He turned up his hair combed, flowers in one hand and his phone in the other texting you his arrival. You answered the door as soon as his text came through wearing your best dress that was semi formal as you didn’t know where the two of you were heading. “You look truly amazing, are you ready to go, or should I wait inside?”

“No, I am ready” There was something odd about him and you couldn’t figure out what it was.

He led you out the front of your apartment and you followed him as he lead you to his car, ah a sensible hatchback beside a beautiful, luxury car the logo was Two R’s now you knew nothing about cars but you would die if that was his car. He pressed the Key FOB and the luxury car lights flashed as the doors unlocked.

Freezing in place his hand slipped free of yours and he paused turning looking back, “Is something wrong baby?”

“This is your car?” You asked and he looked at his car curiously, he looked it over and turned back. He didn’t see anything wrong with this picture, clearly used to the vehicle in question.

“Yes, do you not like Rolls Royce?”

“I honestly had no clue what the brand was and don’t you think, I am a little underdressed, this is a nice car?” You stammered “What if my shoes are dirty?”

“If it makes you feel any better I gave Tae a lift home in it the other day after a party and he vomited all over the dash and I was frantically cleaning it all week to get the smell out for our date.”

“Really?” You said, in a way it did make you feel better, you couldn’t do anything worse than vomit. He opened the door for you and you climbed in inspecting as you went. It didn’t smell like vomit and it was really clean. He climbed in promptly to the other side and looked at you with a soft smile. “What is something wrong?”

“No you are just so beautiful today?” He smiled before rubbing his hands together, “Do you need anything before we go, if I can't provide it the next item is free” 

“How much is it for a Kiss?” Was it too forward of you to ask, you were just so excited tonight was already so thrilling and all you did was sit in his car.

“One kiss will cost you, two questions?” he stated seriously.

“Questions?” This intrigued you, what type of questions was he going to ask.

“Question number one” He said softly, taking your hand, “Movie or dinner first?” “Dinner” you smiled leaning in, impatient with how long it took him to ask you these questions, you wanted to kiss him, heart racing in anticipation.

“Question number two” He whispered you were closing in and it seemed he was losing focus as well, “Do you like sushi?”

Your lips collided and his hand swept under your hair to cradle the back of your neck. You missed him and it had only been a week, his taste, his cologne, the way his lips felt, the way he made you feel loved. “Baby, we have reservations and a movie, let me take you on a date and give you presents” he begged against your lips only parting for a few seconds to speak before capturing them again.

You pulled away and thanked that you had used a lip stain instead of a lipstick so there was no transfer, even though Jimin with red lips would be a delectable sight indeed.

Your date was filled with jokes and laughter and Jimin confessing to all the times he tried to inadvertently help you at parties. He was a gentleman and he even told you about his dream job stating that dealing was only a hobby and he truly loved helping others and that’s why he was in University studying medicine.

Dinner was spectacular and Jimin asked a few times if you needed anything and you half expected him to pull his mary poppins bag out from under the table and list off all the things he could offer you. That was it, he looked odd because he wasn’t accompanied by his huge compartment jacket and duffle bag.

“Can I get you anything more, some soy sauce, another drink, some more of the delicious ikura?” he grinned, it was nice but you feel like Jimin was working and you were a customer and you decided for once he should be the one to be waited on. 

“I don’t need anything at the moment thank you?” You raised your hand sagely in an attempt to sooth his questions. “What about you, what can I get you, napkin, some wasabi?”

“Oh could you grab one of the tiny seaweed salads as they come past,” He grinned, the two of you talked and ate before heading to the movies. Taking the boardwalk along the beach you held hands swinging them gently and talking about your favourite things. He said he liked the colours blue and black. He enjoyed listening to music and dancing though he didn’t know if he was any good at it. 

You assured him from what you had seen at parties he was pretty good. He didn’t realise but you were categorizing all his answers and noticed when he started talking about himself he started opening up. It became less about trying to make you have a good time, to mutually having a wonderful date.

Deciding that you would make sure to give him more days where he gets what he wants amongst those where he tries to fulfill everyone else's wishes.

Choosing a hilarious action movie the two of you found your seats and held hands. Half way through the movie you laid your head on his shoulder and it stayed there until the credits. Once the movie was done, Jimin dutifully drove you home and prolonged walking you to your door.

“Is it bad I don’t want you to go?” He breathed

“Well don’t go, come upstairs and we can have some coffee or something?” 

You woke up beside him, you didn’t know it yet but you would never be able to get him to leave after the first night. You made breakfast which was a series of fresh fruit and you woke up wearing a beautiful blue sundress, you were dancing in the kitchen making some coffee. Planning to wake him you softly padded back to the room and leaned over him. “Jimin, wake up, it’s time for breakfast” you said gently kissing him and he stretched looking up at you with a lopsided smile.

“Mmm… breakfast you say?” In a flash he had rolled you onto your back on the bed and trapped you in his arms and legs. “I could go for breakfast”

You tried to ignore his wiggling eyebrows and insinuations and pouted. “But I cut up lots of fruit cause you said they were your favourites”

His eyes showed hesitation and he grinned, “Don’t move!” He said seriously and ran to the kitchen his boxer briefs were tight around his behind showing his cute butt as he left.

He came back with the platter and placed it on the bed munching on freshly cut apples and grinned.

“Now I have a buffet” He grinned cheekily kissing you, his lips tasting extra sweet. Before he could even tried you decided today really was about him. He was in the middle of eating some grapes when you let your hand ghost along his muscular thighs.

He thought nothing of it until your fingertips grazed a little high against him through his underwear, you continued eating pretending like you hadn’t noticed when your hand moved higher palming him gently.

“What are you doing?” He asked side eyeing you while reaching for another strawberry. And you looked at him coyly. “I am eating breakfast what are you doing?” You challenged him and he gestured to the fruit 

“I am eating breakfast as well” He said and you moved to lay down across the bed, and it didn’t take long before you had released him from his boxer briefs he looked down at you and hummed all your playful teasing had stirred him.

“Okay Baby,” You said looking up at him with a sly smile “You can ask for anything you want and I will give it to you for half the price.  If I don’t have it I will give you the next best thing for free.” you repeated the words he had said in Namjoon’s bedroom a week ago”

“I want you.” He smiled

“You have me baby” You loved using the pet name against him. “What do you want me to do, you bought me baby I am all yours”

“Suck me,” He had abandoned the fruit platter opting instead to watch you trace your fingers along his hips with a heavy breath of anticipation.

“With pleasure” You took him by the base and gently licked the head tracing your tongue around the top before taking him in your mouth and sucking him lightly, you didn’t want to give him everything just yet. He moaned softly and you moved so slow trying to get him to beg for more.

When he did, you showed him no mercy, his breathing was coming out as quick pants and you were trying your best to keep your hands and mouth busy. Soon he was unable to stop himself from audibly responding, his lips falling apart and the sweetest sounds escaping him. 

Taking him deeper into his mouth you tried so hard to calm your gag reflex, breathing slowly you felt his hands move to clutch the back of your head desperately and the sweet sound was gone his voice was now guttural and heavy and within a minute or two he stammered for you to stop which you didn’t greedily taking him faster and swallowing down your reward. 

You removed him from your mouth with an audible pop and he gasped from the overstimulation it gave him. You laid your head on his thigh and at a grape slowly. 

Rumours started that Jimin had been busted or had even died but a select few new the truth he was tangled up in your sheets and you wouldn’t ever let him leave.

[midnight-writ3r]

Bad for you pt.3

Mark Lee x Genderneutral reader

Inspired by: Idk I have intense straight feelings for Mark Lee ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Summary: Just when you think Mark has left your life for good, he appears at your window, with a black rose in hand and a startling request on his tongue.

Genre: Fluff, mystery, strangers to lovers

A/N: He is back!! The bad boy from the window is back! And he is ready to sweep you off your feet! (I´m sorry, this is really all over the place and I have no idea where I´m going with it, but I just really wanted this piece of self-indulgence…)

<– Previous part

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A couple of days, filled with University, your job at a close-by diner and Donghyuck´s whining in your ear, pass by. There is never a sound from Mark, so you guess that Donghyuck´s worries had been ill-founded in the end. After all, it seems like you´re not going to be seeing the handsome boy again, any time soon. Belatedly you realize, you don´t even have his number, so even if you wanted to, there would have been no way for you to contact him.

Good for Donghyuck. Your best friend had been worried sick, repeating his little lecture from that day over and over again, until he deemed you might have understood. It´s not your fault, really. You had always been drawn to the mysterious – the dangerous. Mark was the embodiment of that and, beyond the surface, maybe even more.

Well, you would never find out now, since your chance has passed you by. After another tiring morning, filled with lectures, you unlock your apartment door, to stumble inside. A yawn breaks through your lips and you decide that a nap before work might be a wise idea. Shouldn´t have stayed up reading that shitty romance novel all night. And it didn´t even have a good final. What a waste of time.

Discarding your bag at the door, you shrug off your jacket and change into sweats and a shirt. In the middle of rubbing your eye and heading for the call of your bed, you suddenly pick up a soft sound. A knock, you realize. But not on your door, no, rather your window.

With wide, slightly terrified eyes, you turn to look at your large window. Who you find there takes your breath for a short moment. Mark is peaking through the glass, clad in a black hoodie and a dumb smirk on his lips. Slowly, you feel your features shift into a disbelieving expression, whether at his audacity, or the sheer possibility of him being back, you don´t know. Either way, you hurry towards the window and open it up. Before you can utter a word, there is a rose in your face. Not a regular one: a black one.

“Is this your way of telling me you´re back from the dead?” You point at the rose, “Black for death and mourning?”

Pursing his lips, Mark gives the flower a glance, as if really seeing it for the first time, “Well, black roses also stand for the beginning of new things, so…” there is a tug at his lips, “I was hoping you could give me a chance for beginning new things…?”

You´re only able to keep up your dead-pan expression for a few heartbeats, before snorting and stepping aside, “Get inside here. If you can´t use the entrance door, like a regular person, at least don´t stand around in the rain.”

Eager like a child, Mark climbs inside next to you. Only when he brushes past you, close enough for you to smell traces of smoke and the cologne he used, do you see the slight teint on his face. It´s shaped like a flower, quite similar to the one in your hand, but it doesn´t quite harbour the same beauty. You reach out on instinct, really not thinking about it, and he flinches softly, when your fingers make contact with the bruise on his cheekbone.

“What happened to you?” You mutter, unsure of whether you really want to hear the answer.

He shakes his head, slightly dripping, black hair waving with the movement, “It´s nothing. Got into a fight.”

You try a gentle smile, but it must look wobbly at best, “Seems like you´re making quite the habit out of that.”

“Seems like it”, His hand is warm and rough against yours, as he pulls it away form his face, “Don´t worry okay? The thing… everything´s settled. I´m okay now.”

You don´t even know why you cared in the first place. Mark and you aren´t connected by anything more than a night of desires and bodily closure. Hell, you don´t even know his surname! Or his favourite band, his hobbies, what he does with his life, any of the things you would usually care about. All you have to think of, when he comes to your mind in the evenings, is that cocky little smile and the big eyes that seem to clash with everything else. Innocence. Donghyuck would call it crush culture.

But that´s stupid, so you ignore it.

“Take those drenched shoes off, I´m not gonna wash up your mess.” You chide, as you walk towards the bathroom. There should still be a tube of healing cream somewhere within your cabinets, so you shuffle through all the contents, while you listen to Mark stumble around and take off his boots. You frown. You could have sworn there was a tube right here somewhere.

“Whatcha looking for?” You jolt softly, when hot breath hits your ear. Mark´s frame is pressed tight against your back, personal space not a necessity anymore. Well, of course, why would personal space be a worry to him, when you have literally seen each other naked? Shaking your head, you finally make out the little thing you had been looking for an turn around to push at his chest. He watches you curiously, as you set him down on the closed toilet-seat and unscrew the healing cream. 

“I don´t know if it helps.” You explain, spreading the white cream over his bruise, “Hell, if these things have an expiration date, that´s probably crossed already.”

His gaze turns soft and there is a smile tugging on his lips, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Don´t thank me.” You huff, “Thank whatever angel is watching over you, that you didn´t end up in a hospital. Why do you go around beating up people anyways?”

Clearing his throat, Mark averts his eyes down to his fingers in his lap, “There was a disagreement. They didn´t want to, uh… They didn´t want to keep with the deal we made.”

“Must have been an important one, if you thought it was worth risking your health.” You know there is a line that shouldn´t be crossed, somewhere around this conversation. But it´s blurry and Mark isn´t giving you any signals to stop asking. All there is, is the mystery he decides to paint around himself and, while it´s enticing, you also find it worrying.

“It was. But I don´t expect you to understand my rationale.” Sniffing, he gets to his feet. There is a different expression on his face now; something achingly close to exhaution, “Thanks for patching me up with your Stone Age cream.”

You can´t help but laugh at that and as he chimes in, you don´t have the heart to be stern with him anymore. Like a puppy, he follows you back into the living room, where you direct towards the kitchen. After asking Mark, if he prefers coffee or tea, you make two cups of hot cocoa for both of you. It´s strange, to see him shuffle at the kitchen counter, looking around with wide eyes and looking so out of place in his all-black attire. You love to decorate your apartment in soft, slightly pastel colours and there is a lot of light, streaming in through the large windows. In the midst of it all, Mark sticks out like a sore thumb.

Just like he does with the rest of your normal life.

When both of you hold a steaming cup in your hands and the silence has gone on for too long, you finally push yourself to ask the question that has been sitting on your mind: “Mark? Why are you really here?”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“That ‘beginning new things’ shit was very cute and poetic, but I don´t buy it.” You explain, setting the cup down, “I thought we were just a hook-up. You were dead silent for days and that after disappearing in a really strange way and now… now you´re here, climbing in through my window with your face beaten up.”

Taking a tiny sip of his drink, Mark shrugs, “So?”

“I just wanna know your intentions. So I can brace myself.” Admitting that, seems to surprise you almost as much as him.

“I don´t understand”, You think he does, with the slight hurt that plays behind the stoic mask he is trying to keep in place, “Brace yourself? What for. What do you expect me to do?”

Taking a deep breath, you say: “Donghyuck told me a couple of things.” Immediately, annoyance takes over Mark´s features and you watch his fingers tighten around his cup, “It was all vague as hell, but he´s my best friend, so I listen to him. I´m not someone to judge based on the words of others…” You sigh, try not to stumble over your words and end up saying something you don´t want to say, “I think you´re really cute. I just… don´t wanna get tangled in trouble.”

That leaves the other boy stunned for a long while. You understand of course, that was quite a bomb to drop on him. But, you hadn´t lied. Taking precautions now, is just something you need to do, to avoid getting hurt later. You know yourself, know that Mark is just the kind you´d fall for, if you got invested. But you also know that the kind you fall for isn´t always reliable.

When he runs a hand through his hair, muscles flexing under his shirt, you try to ignore the strange jump of your heart, “I guess you have every right to be…” He hesitates, “…wary.” You smile shyly, staring down at your cup, “I´m gonna be honest with you, I need to lay low somewhere for a while.”

Your eyes zoom up, to gape at him, “Lay low? What the heck did you get yourself into?”

“It´s really not as bad as it sounds. It happened before, I just need to get away from my apartment for a while.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

You can´t help, but scoff. Is this guy serious? “And you come here for that?”

“Yes”, If you didn´t know better, you´d think he is just as frustrated with himself as you are, when he shoves himself away from the counter and stomps towards your window. You watch him pace back and forth for a minute, before the short-lived anger leaves his tense shoulders again. Suddenly, he looks smaller, a little frail almost, “I didn´t know where else to go.”

That makes you think for a brief second. If you allow yourself to look past the barricade of prejudice Donghyuck´s words had drawn in your mind, you find something you didn´t expect; A boy. A lonely boy. Who has no people he can trust, except this one stranger he had helped out at a club. You sigh, thinking back to the sensation of comfort he had given you that night. The reason you had allowed yourself to get drawn into his orbit and tug him into a kiss. The reason you had thought it to be okay to pull him into your apartment and spend the night together. Never once, had it occured to you that maybe, you had been able to give him the same sensation back.

“So what, you thought you could just show up here and stay a few days?” You tease him, no real bite to your voice. He still looks unsure, so all you get is a meek shrug. You snort, not believing yourself, when you say: “Well, congratulations, it worked. But you pay for groceries, I´m not your mom.”

“A-Are you serious?” You have to hold back a laugh at the look he gives you.

“Deadly.” You round the kitchen counter and pinch his chin. He scrunches his nose up in a cute fashion, “But you´re taking the couch.”

For the first time, there is a small grin tugging on his lips and you roll your eyes, when his hands settle around your waist, “You don´t think you could use the company?”

“You are literally impossible.” He makes a startled noise, when you press you palm flat into his face and push him away. It makes you laugh, the way he can look so silly, while still giving off a sort of dangerous aura. Yeah, so maybe it makes him a tiny bit irresistible, you don´t have to let him know. With a new-found ease in your steps, you collect your cup again and fall onto your couch, “You still haven´t told me what was important enough to throw hands.”

He shuffles a little, until he sits down on the floor. His legs crossed and elbows propped on his knees, Mark throws a contemplative look out of the window, “There are just some things that are bigger than me, you know?”

“Bigger?”

“More relevant.” Mark says this with so much certainty, you feel your heart sore for a moment. In your opinion, nothing should be more important to Mark than himself, but at the same time you think you understand the sentiment. “You know, the sort of things that you´d be nothing without. In the grand scheme of things, you might rather not live at all, than live without them.”

The serious nature of the conversation takes you so aback, you have nothing left, but to stare at the boy in front of you for a moment. He doesn´t look back at you, seems hesitant. Probably, because he isn´t sure if he has said too much. You could imagine him feeling the need to walk on eggshells around you, now that you allowed him to stay. A fleeting generosity that not even you, yourself had expected.

However, there is also a part in you that wants to make clear to him that he has nothing to fear. A part that wants to tell him that he can trust you.

“I know what you mean.” You mutter, “Comes with caring a lot, I guess.”

At that, Mark finally looks back at you and you´re almost certain you have said the right, “Do you have things like that?”

You hum, staring through the steam of your cup, “I guess my family. My parents can be a pain in the neck, but at the end of the day, they have given me everything I needed to be who I am today. Living without them… I´m not sure I could imagine that.” A small grin tugs at your lips, “And admittedly, also Donghyuck. The boy is a whole thunderstorm, but he held me when I cried, carried me when I was black-out drunk and celebrated all of my success. He´s like a brother to me. I think, if things came down to it, I´d give him everything.”

Mark looks at you, as you speak, his eyes gentle. There is a smile on his lips, too, as if he enjoys hearing you talk about the people who mean so much to you. As if he is happy, you have those people. A small lump builds in your throat and you ignore the urge to wrap your arms around him. It would be nice to have him close enough, to have his scent around you again. You remember a certain sweetness, beyond his cologne. Especially when you had woken up the morning after, with his bare body pressed against yours.

The memory fills your cheeks with warmth, so you distract yourself by asking: “What are your special things?”

For a moment, it almost looks like he hadn´t heard you, because he just stares at you for a long stretch of silence. He is contemplating, you realize. Contemplating, how much he can tell you.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Your eyebrows lift, “Uh… okay?”

“Go get your jacket”, he prompts, pushing to his feet. A little dazed, you comply, not entirely sure how you have gotten yourself into this current situation. However, when you watch him head for the window, clad in his leather jacket once again, you snap out of it.

“Can we at least use the door this time?”

-*- FIN -*-

[deliontower]

1912 | part 2

Title:by the sea

Summary:  y/n and Dean start marriage life on their honeymoon, getting ready to start their new lives and y/n settles in her new home.  

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 4K

Warnings: slow burn, a little fluff, some swear maybe, if you get all fuzzy from period dramas then there’s some of that going on and not much else

A/N: sorry this took so long to write, I like taking my time with this because I want it to be good and have a good story while the one shots I’ve been posting are fun to write and don’t need much work. Thank you everyone was has been waiting for this. <3 poof read but might of missed something 

Please remember to leave feedback as if keeps me writing x

 series masterlist |  MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN  

First Dean drove to the train station where he reluctantly left his car where it would wait for you to return. Over the drive you had tried to make conversation, but everything fell flat like the other times you had tried to talk.

While you waited for everyone to get off the train you stood against wall watching everyone passed by, families, couples and people on their own.  You looked over to your left and saw Dean helping with the bags, looking away you lent back and closed your eyes. All the noises and chatter around you faded away, all you focused on was you breathing and the feeling of the brick wall on your back.      

Your eyes shot open when Dean appeared at your side and put his hand on your arm. "already bored of me?" he laughed. You exhaled shaking your head, letting him take your arm and lead the way to the train carriage. 

"just taking a minute to think" you chuckled,  you walked side by side to the 1st class carriages. In Dean's free hand he held your bag containing some things you might need over the trip. You couldn't help but think about how well you worked together, his movements worked with yours. 

Once you reached the steps, he held your hand through your gloves you could still feel his coarse hand under yours. You swore you saw him looking at your joint hands when you looked away, something about the way his eyes moved, like they were hiding something.        

You sat opposite each other, the space in between felt too small and too big at the same time. As soon as he sat down, he started to bounce his left leg. When the train whistle blew, he stopped and looked out the window that looked it on the train hallway. 

you stopped watching him, reaching in your bag to pull out your book. As you read you clewed on your nails, mouthing a word now and then. Someone tapped on the cover of your book, making you look up. 

"Tea? Or something to eat?" Dean asked, gesturing to the carriage door where the trolley lady stood waiting.      

"oh" you smiled towards her putting your book down next to you. "Yes, tea and a sandwich would be lovely". You reached for your bag to get money but was met with Dean's hand over yours. With one hand still over yours as he  handed some money over to the lady in exchange for two teas and a sandwich.

After saying thank you were left alone again, resting the tea next to your book you ripped open the brown paper the sandwich was wrapped in.  Only then did you realized how hungry you were, skip breakfast was finally getting to you.

When you looked up you saw Dean watching your curiously, you laughed trying to hide the heat spreading on your cheeks. "I didn't have my breakfast thing morning. Just two cups of tea", you took a few bites before finishing, "I am regretting that though".

He drank his own tea watching you over the dim.  When he put the cup down, he chuckled. "what are you reading?", he nodded to the book next to you.

Looking down to the book you smiled, "Wuthering  Heights. It's one of my favourite". The copy was well worn, the cover was faded, the pages had gone from white to a light yellow and some of the quotes had been underlined.  "do you read?", you  looked up to Dean. 

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Reading is more Sammy's thing, I don’t have much time with the family business and the cars", he waved his hand in the air as he explained. You could ignore the sliver of disappointment in your veins, in a perfect world he would share the same hobbies as you and you would talk about them for hours on end, in a perfect world you would marriage someone you knew.       

After a few more minutes of talking, you went back to reading but Dean continued to watch you. He could see you were finding the day as hard as he was. Everything he or you brought up didn't catch and fell flat. He found it easier to sit in quiet and watch you.  He knew you were beautiful; your E/C eyes match your H/C perfectly. And when you smiled, he felt something grow in him. He couldn’t call it love; he didn't know this vison of you. You were still the girl from his childhood who he spoke of to his friends. 

His favourite story was for the last day he saw you, he was 12 and you were 13. He always hated how you were older than him, even if it was only by a year. You had climb up an apple tree in his back garden and had spent 5 minutes throwing apples at him before he spotted you. With a book held in one hand and the other holding another apple ready to throw, you smiled when you made eye contacted with him. 

He always remembered how your mother reacted when she saw the state of your dress after you fell from the tree, on to a small patch of  flowers. He was worried you were hurt but instead you leaped up and laughed. As you walked by you handed him one of the flowers, a wild rose. 

The memory was the reason why he picked wild roses for the wedding, something he hoped you remembered. Unsure why but when he was younger, he would always remember the image of you reading in a tree smiling down at him. 

And here you were again reading, he could help but smile a little at how you would mouth the words or reacted when something happened, like you were one of the characters living and breathing the story. The loud train whistle made you both looked from your spots and look to the window where your spot was coming into view.

  Standing out on the balcony that look out on the sea, you sighed breathing in the salty air. The cry of seagulls rang out louder than anything else. You hung your head back and looked up to the sky, the sky was nearly cloudless. 

You breathed deep one more time before turning around and going back into the room. The hotel  was classic, the room you were staying in was painted a deep royal blue, the jointed one bathroom was a lighter shade of blue but still felt too deep. Over in one corner of the room there was a folding screen, hanging off a hook beside it was your dress for tonight. 

When packing you had only chosen dresses that would be easy to get in and out on your own, this one was one of the nicer ones. It was dark green with a black mesh overlay; beautiful detailed leaf needle work was on the sleeves and the body of the dress.

Dean had said he was going to book a table, but you hadn't failed to see him seek a pack of cigarettes into his coat pocket.  You stood behind the screen and started to strip down to your underwear. You loosen your corset a little, ready for the dinner you were about to have. 

Lifting the dress above your head, you bushed  down any bumps or wrinkles. You walked out to sit by the vanity mirror, laying before you was the little pieces of jewellery you had brought. Matching the dress, you chose a long black beaded necklace with matching earrings. 

Pulling your hair out of the bun that rested on the top of your head and let in run lose down your neck. You worked with a brush and some pins until you were happy without come. Staring at yourself in the mirror. You studied every detail you look the same as you always did, you always thought there would be a change once you were married. like a new you would take over and know what to do next but you that had always been was the one staring back at you through the mirror. Maybe Dean had thought he was marrying someone different and that's why he was distant with physical affections. 

when dean did return to the room, he lingered by the door, you could see him watching from the mirror. you turned and smiled at him, "Can you help with the back button? I can't reach it" you asked walking over to him and turning you back once again. At the back of your neck you felt the ghost of his fingers, you could feel the hesitate in them, feel how he was holding himself back. He cleared his throat saying he was done. When you looked that him, you saw how his green eyes were wider than they had been, and the tips of his ears were redder than they normally were. you reached out to get your coat, but he beat you to it. 

you stood still, lips slightly parted as he hung the coat off your shoulders, he was also still as he watch you put an arm in each sleeve. "Ready?" his voice was horse, green eyes less wide than they had been but still not the normal size. You felt your heart flutter as you smiled and nodded. Again, he held out his arm for you and again your heart fluttered. Maybe you did doubt everything about this match when you were alone with your thought but when he did small things like this, when you saw the things he couldn't hide, you couldn't help but hope. His warm body was so close to yours; you could still smell the smoke on his clothes it wasn't overpowering like so many other, it suited the bourbon and metal that clung to him too.

  The restaurant was by the sea, tall windows made up a full wall so that the view could be seen from anyway in the building.  The smell from the coast was even stronger, you felt even more relaxed than you did back in the room.  

Dean pulled out a chair once you reached the table, the table match the theme of the sea. In the middle was a single candle floating in a small bowl of water with seashells at the bottom. Dean circled the table and sat down facing you. Smiling over to him, you both reached for a menu at the same time, you felt heat rush up to your cheeks and along the back of your neck. You tried to laugh what happened off, hiding behind your menu before you could even face Dean and see his own reaction.  

Halfway through the meal, the setting sun gave casted a soft pink light across the restaurant. Dean looked up from his plate and grazed towards you. You had your eyes towards the massive windows, watching the waves come and go from the sea. Your lips were parted and turned up at the corner.  In the soft pink light from the setting sun, he couldn't help but acknowledge the way your soft E/C eyes shone. the skin was glowing in the light, it looked like you belonged there like you were craved from sea glass.

Your chest up and down with a sigh moving your eyes from the sea, you smiled clearly shocked to find Dean looking right at you. “you look lovely tonight” the words left his mouth before he knew it. Your eyes widen and cheeks flush a bright red. Trying to hide your face you blushed some hair from your face that wasn’t there. While you were trying to find the right thing to say, he reached for your free hand that was on the table and took your hand in his. you swallowed a lump in your throat looking at your joint hands. His large rough hand around your small gloved hand, again you could feel the heat of him, and it was enough alone to make your shiver. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he touched your naked skin. “I hope we can grow closer over this break”.#

You could still feel a lump in your throat and with his hand still on yours, it was hard to speak. You licked your lips and nodded. “I hope we do too”. You sounded and felt breathless. Before you knew it, the meal was over, and Dean was helping you with your coat.

With the weather still being good, you chose to walk back to the hotel. You both hung your arms by your sides, your hands would brush pass each other gathering all your nervous into one move you took his hand in yours. Not having the guts to face him to tell his reaction you keep your gaze  forward, but you were glad when he squeezed your hand.

You were more tired then your thought when you got back. The day had just been traveling and eating but the call from your bed was deafening. Kicking your shoes off by the door you walked over to your vanity table, where you started to take off jewellery and hair pins. You reached to the back of your dress to undo it, you jumped when you felt someone else’s hands on your back. You looked in the mirror and felt a bit calmer when you saw it was just Dean, he was silently asking for permission to help, you nodded not breaking eye contact with him.

You kept your eyes on him as your dress loosen on your frame, you stood up and turned around as the dress fell to the floor. You breathe stilled as you looked at him, you could feel the goose bumps popping up on your skin from being dressing in nothing but a corset and thin grown. “can you manage it on your own?” his voice was sticky; his green eyes were following down your neck to your collar you could tell he was struggling not to look down future where your breast where slowly lifting and falling with each breath.  

You nodded your head and pulled the lace holding your corset together. You had yet to take your eyes off him and he hadn’t moved his eyes from your chest yet. When nothing was left to take off you didn’t dare to move. Your lips parted, eyes looking down to his lips. You stayed still as he took his hand from his side and touched your waist. The hard beating in your chest was all you could hear, you thought it might be the only thing he could hear.

This was the closest you had gotten to him, the closest he had gotten to touching you. His thumb drew a line over your hip bone, his eyes were taking you in something you hadn’t witnessed him do before. This was different from how he looked at you, your whole wedding day even the wedding night was different.

You took a sharp in breath when he tugged you closer to his chest. Your hand stuck out and went flat against his chest. You could feel him breathing on your neck, feel his steady heartbeat. Trembling a little you raised up your face to read his. you looked up through your lashes at him, searching his green eyes for the answer the questions running laps in your mind.

He moved slowly, his lips getting closer and closer to your own. Your eyes fluttered shut when you could feel his breath on your lips.  When they finally met you were taken by the feeling that over came you. His grip got tighter; your hands went to pull at the material of his white shirt.  He reached with his free hand and ran it through your free hand. Still kissing and wrapped in each other touch, he started to walk backwards until you were stood by the bed.  You only pulled away when  you felt like you couldn’t breath anymore, his eyes were fixed on your raising and falling chest. You took his hand from your waist and held it as you sat down on the bed and pulled him closer.  

You couldn’t say what was giving you the courage to be so forward and open. You fell back on the mattress with a pop, finding his lips again. Opening your legs so he could slide closer to you. The kiss grew hungry. The feeling of him in between your legs made your hands sweaty, and something was growing inside you.

you were shocked by the cold when Dean suddenly pulled away. Still lay across the bed you stared up at Dean who was studying you in his own way. “it’s getting late”. Your frowned at his words but quietly nodded.

He left you to change in the bathroom, you sat there for a few seconds trying to spot the reason of his sudden change of heart. You slowly climbed under the covers, still puzzled you watch the clock of the wall tick away. You felt the same as you did the night before, you thought things were doing well. He kissed you first after all, was it because you tried to take it further. Maybe he just didn’t feel things for you, and it was too hard to fake.

You shook away the questions and tried to sleep. When he finally returns you keep still hoping he’ll believe you’re asleep. Still not looking at him, you felt the bed dip and heard him sigh.

That night felt longer that any others.

The next day you were half awake when you heard movement, you groggily opened your eyes to find what was happening. “you’re up just in time, breakfast has just been brought up”. Mind still fuzzy from sleep, you use your arms to push yourself up in bed.

You blink at Dean as he places the tray on the bed next to you, “You’re up early”.

He sat down by you, you looked from your plate to his face. He was showing no signs of what happened last night. “thought we could spend the day at the beach”. You took a slip of tea and smiled. “it’s a shame we can only do a weekend away”.

You hummed, keeping your eyes on your breakfast. “Winchester guns won’t run by itself”. Aware he’s still watching you; you stop what you’re doing and tilted you head and smiled at him. “everything alright?”.

“’course. Just didn’t think you would want to talk about business” he looked away to the clock.

Silence filled the room, “I’m a Winchester now. I should care about the business” you said. Pausing after because it was the first time you had said that. He had turned now, watching you with curiosity, it was the first time he had heard you say it as well.    

“I leave you to get dressed” he said standing up quickly and leaving the room before you could comment.

You stayed and watched the door , thinking he would come back but he didn’t.

You took your time getting dressed, picking a plain green dress with puffy sleeves that cover half your arms. Keeping this simple you chose a small pearl necklace and matching bracelets. Brushing your hair until it was knot free you put in up in a low bun, you didn’t need to do anything fancy when you would be wearing a hat anyway.  

Dean was waiting by the doors outside stomped on a roll-up on the floor.  You chuckled looking at his sheepish expression. “You can hide that but not the smell”, you tapped your nose. He bites his lip outstretching his arm. Smiling you turned your head and took his arm.

“I hired a care for the day” his steps quicken. “I’ve missed driving”.

Just as you thought the beach wasn’t quiet. On a warm day in late March, you didn’t think it would be any different. After renting a pair of beach chairs you laid back. Children’s laugher draws your attention, a little boy and girl were building sandcastles together with their adoring parents watching close by.  Having children felt like a lifetime away, especially if all you did was share a few hungry kisses.  Smiling over at the picture-perfect family one last time before looking back to the sea.

When your legs started to go numb you kicked off you shoes and stood up. “I might go for a paddle” you mention still looking forward, you took your hat off and looked at Dean. “want to join or will you watch my things?”.

“you enjoy yourself, ill wait here”, he nodded to the cool waters. Smiling you walk forward.

From his seat, Dean watches as you lift your dress so it wouldn’t get wet. The soft breeze your baby hairs across your face. He doesn’t know what to think seeing you there. When he closed his eyes, he could feel your silky lips against his, he shook the feeling away. He knew you knew something was off, that there was something holding him back and he knew you deserved to know the reason but tell the truth would hurt more than one person. 

He watched as you knelt and handed a boy a shell they had dropped. You face lit up in laugher when they said something.  You turned to him and pointed for the boy to look over, when the boy did his own smile dropped.

 Waving goodbye, you walked back to Dean, “made a friend?” he raised an eyebrow when you sat back down. 

You smirk raising an eyebrow back. “what, you jealous of a 5-year-old?”, you laughed.

“no” he laughed.

You licked your licks shaking your head. “he said, ‘my papa said pretty girls shouldn’t be out alone’ and I told him ‘I’m not alone, my husband is over there’ and then I came back here”. You patted his hand without thinking “are you enjoying yourself? For some reason I feel like the beach isn’t really your ideal place”.

“I haven’t been myself since we were children. Just feel out of place” he shrugged, it made you feel sympathy for him. You hadn’t thought about what it felt like to be sent away to a school where you knew no one, coming back for the rare holiday, knowing people but feeling apart from it all. 

“well then, we’ll have too do more things like this” you grinned stretching out. “I’ll even let you drive; sure, you’ll like that”. 

You both lay in silent for the next hour before deciding to find a spot of lunch. The air around felt lighter, you had moved past event of the night before. Trying to accept the unknown reason why he didn’t want to take things far. You found yourself liking this version of him more, this version who would laugh and smile at you, he reminded you of the child you knew. You were willing to face the years ahead of you, willing to wait for the day he was ready to tell you what was holding you back. And in realty you were grateful because you weren’t even sure you were ready to share everything with someone.

 part 3 

tag list 

@clearhorseturtlecreator  

[iwritethat]

Tim Drake: Sister, Sister

Tim Drake x Sister!reader

A/N: This beautiful idea was all down to @comicsgirlimagines who is truly wonderful and an incredible writer also (check them out), credit goes to them for their support and talks when writing this.

Thank you @comicsgirlimagines ♥️

>>>>——————————>

It was ironic, everything around was designed to perfection, to be exactly what you wanted and needed to maintain a positive existence as a reward for your past choices on Earth.

Yes, Heaven may've been perfect and brought you endless happiness but you were conscious enough to find the faults, for a start your brother was absent - which of course was a blessing, you didn't want him to join you for as long as possible, he had his whole life to live after all. It was entrancing, tuning in to the life events of Tim Drake on occasion, your little brother had certainly taken an interesting path - currently he fought with his new brothers, the League of Assassins were after Damian again and it automatically became a family emergency.

They hopped from rooftop to rooftop, battling various members with each vigilante fighting their own battles yet managing to lend assistance when able. However as you watched on, Red Robin seemed to be doubled down - more assassins were upcoming and he was the first standing in their way. You began to panic, was there even a way to get down there?! You'd looked into such things before as soon as you learned of his hobby, sure you were dead but people constantly connected with the spirit world - such a phenomena should work both ways. Or at least it was a theory under construction at the moment.

———

Another down, then another, and another. It became routine, but with repetitive strain came exhaustion and before Tim could react he'd made what was soon to be a fatal mistake, he should’ve ducked the blade gunning for his throat but instead was a millisecond too late to react. His body falling short of available counters and it was then he realised, this was it - after everything, this was finally how he’d go out. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, he’d aided more people than he ever thought possible but surely there were things he’d miss out on like having the opportunity to become a father, get married or even see Gotham make progress as a city. Regardless, he had made his peace with that and he’d closed his eyes in acceptance ready for whatever awaited him in the afterlife.

It was a split second - he never thought the white light actually existed but it flashed behind his eyelids rather sporadically and suddenly the breath was knocked out of lungs and it felt as though his head collided with concrete.

"Jeez I'll be back soon, don't worry." His sister gave an exasperated sigh, hands on her hips as her little brother tugged at her backpack.

"But (Y/n)! Please let me come with you!" Tim pleaded, successfully halting her in her tracks.

"No way kiddo, you'll probably fall off of the mountain. But hey, no matter how far apart we are, I'll always look out for you. Okay?" She smiled, tousling his hair as he accepted her justification.

"You promise?"

"I pinky promise."

"Hmm, see you when you get back loser." Tim mischievously commented, his sister rolled her eyes with a sarcastic "Oh haha." before heading off on her rock climbing trip.

That was the last time he'd laid eyes on her, unbeknownst to him at the time. And yet, this light, this warm familiar presence brought back such memories - of that day, of the news, of the funeral...

So then, how is it that he could hear her voice so clearly?

"Get up Tim! C'mon loser, I don't know how long I've got!" It was dangerously loud, demanding almost and it made him consider how things hadn’t changed much.

Tim was coming to, clenching his eyes shut in order to adjust to the bright glow that shrouded the area as he sat up with a squint.

"Argh, (Y/n) what the-?"

The figure kneeling down beside him was easily recognisable, having not aged in the years that had passed without her but the concerned expression she wore was contagious.

"No time to explain, magic spiritual existence or whatever but please get up. Here's your staff." You pulled him to his feet, albeit Tim remained dazed with these developments and stumbled against your figure with a groan. His staff was pushed into his chest and it was only now - dream or not - he spoke his true feelings.

"I missed you, so much..."

“I know...” The sincerity in his voice only made you feel guilty, the accident wasn’t your fault but you still left him and that was a weight you’d carried since you’d died.

Tim was slowly adjusting, finding what seemed to be a brief flash of wings behind you but that must’ve been from hitting his head so hard considering he now stood on the opposing rooftop to previously. Recalling the last moments his hand shot to his throat, more than shocked when his fingers remained absent of blood and his breathing was perfectly normal ignoring the quickness of it, next he looked back to where he was standing beforehand only to find bodies of assassins littering the roof and battles continuing over the street.

“Am I dead?”

“What? No. I’m dead, you’re alive.” You quickly corrected with furrowed brows and a sigh, flicking his forehead as he pushed your hand away in retaliation.

Although he paused, the familiarity of sibling like antics hitting him with an unwanted wave of nostalgia and he looked at you again - really looked. Saw past the golden glow, saw past the perfect skin and any evidence of scathes or aging. It was you but ethereal, you weren’t alive, you weren’t staying and you definitely weren’t coming back to life. That was what made him embrace you, arms wrapping around your torso so tightly that if alive then breathing would be a problem but you didn’t care, his face buried in your hair whilst you held back emotional whimpers. For however long you had been gifted, you’d say goodbye properly this time.

“I’m sorry for breaking my promise, so sorry, please please forgive me Tim -“

“Yo-you didn’t break it idiot.” It was such a soft whisper, an attempt to comfort you even if he didn’t understand your reasoning for profuse apologies.

“I didn’t come home, I left you alone and that’s the worst thing I could’ve done as your sister!” You defended, justifying your beliefs and pulling away from Tim who offered a soft smile amidst his watery eyes.

“You promised that no matter how far apart we are, you’d always look out for me and you have. (Y/n) you saved my life just now - how many people have the willpower to come back from the grave to do that? But you did that for me, you kept your promise.” Tim assured, wiping your tears away before hugging you once more.

“I’m proud of you y’know, kicking names and taking ass.” You weakly laughed, parting to punch his shoulder once regaining your composure.

“So you keep up with the times in the afterlife huh?”

“It gets boring up there okay? Speaking of, you should get back to fighting beside your family - who I love by the way.” You happily informed, gesturing over time the members of the Batfamily fighting various battles with a sad knowing smile.

Tim noticed the sorrow in your irises, the way you turned back to him like it was the last time you’d be with each other and it probably was but he simply sighed and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“You’re still my favourite sibling and as such I guess I should take your advice.” Tim softly commented and with an understanding nod a bright light engulfed his form once more.

This time he’d landed in the most heated area of the fight, landing executed perfectly with an immense rupture of light knocking out every enemy on impact. Tim stood, his family turning to him awestruck at the amount of unfathomable controlled power that originated from his form and how exactly he’d seemingly beamed over out of thin air.

“Later Timbers, and by the way I think you should stop crushing on Steph and ask her out already.” Your voice remained, albeit fleeting, as was your figure standing beside him overlooking your handiwork.

“Wha- you can’t know all of my business zombie!” He went to knock your upper arm, fingers phasing straight through your body and you both mirrored sympathetic expressions, a knowing and meaningful exchange enough to say what words couldn’t.

“I’m so happy for you Tim, stay alive okay?” And with that your figure faded into blissful golden stardust that spiralled into wind up toward the matte sky until they’d disappeared from Tim’s line of sight.

“Goodbye (Y/n)...”

——

“What was that out there Tim? A new gadget?” Bruce questioned his former partner once they returned to the Batcave whilst Tim got out his phone with an absentminded smile.

“My sister.”

“You have a sister, why didn’t you ever mention it?” Dick now inquired, walking in step beside him.

“Because you’d want to meet her and that’s, that’s impossible but her name was (Y/n). Here, this was us a few years ago.” Tim answered honestly, the implications easily read by his family who remained respectfully quiet until Tim handed Dick his phone which displayed a picture of the two of you. The others gathering around out of curiosity.

“Damn she’s hot.” Jason casually commented, reviving a facepalm from Cass and chiding from an irritated Damian.

“Todd, that’s completely irrelevent!”

“She has standards Jay sorry, but, she really likes you guys.” Tim smugly replied, his last words laced with underlying gratitude whilst Jason received over dramatic ‘ooohs’ from the rest of the family after that smart burn. Although Tim saw the contentment on each of them, that despite not knowing you, they had your blessing as his new family which was a very sacred thing in their opinion.

Once he’d regained his own space, he began typing a message he never thought he’d write until after your encounter.

Tim: [Hey Steph, I’ve been told I need to act on things so I was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend? Not in costume, just as you and I.]

Stephanie: [About time Tim, who do I have to thank for your sudden confidence haha?]

Tim gave a relieved smile at the positive reply, looking up to the sky before asking with a proud yet considerate tone.

“You happy now?”

He would’ve said the sun broke through the cloudy sky of Gotham for a few seconds, golden rays bathing the Manor grounds and his skin - but that was probably unrelated coincidence...

[verenawulfweb]

The Multiple Demand Network

When I had a look at the timetable before I started the course in Interactive Digital Media, I must admit I had quite different expectations. I saw Visual Communication, 3D Modelling, Animation, Video Production and Digital Story Telling, and I felt very enthusiastic and was convinced that this course would finally give me the skills to enter the creative job market. Web Authoring, I thought, would be just one of those things you have to get over with. The same goes for Server-Side Web Development, which was one of the elective modules. My initial reaction was “oh, gosh no.” At least one module I could eliminate from the list of otherwise overwhelmingly great options.

To my own surprise, Web Authoring – that is, learning HTML, CSS and Content Management Systems – turned out to be by far my favourite module. And I still do not quite understand why. The emotional rollercoaster I have been through does not compare to anything else I have ever felt when I was learning something: the elation when something worked the way I intended; the frustration when something did not work the way I wanted and my complete lack of understanding why; and the sheer panic when I broke something and could not go back to how it was before; and eventually back to happiness and almost pride when I managed to solve the problem. I climb up ropes, hang upside-down, drop and have the rope squeeze my organs out of me as a hobby, and I have not felt the same kind of fear to break something doing that as I have when coding.

Image by Priscilla Du Preez. 

Always having been interested in learning foreign languages, I was convinced I enjoyed learning HTML and CSS so much because I seem to have a knack for learning languages, and these are, after all, languages as well.

As I looked into this, I found that even though learning how to code is often compared to learning a foreign language, it does not affect the same regions in the brain. An interesting article in Science Daily refers to two different schools of thought, one that suggests that learning to code is related to learning maths, and the other that suggests it is connected to learning languages.  What the study presented in this article found is that coding activates a different part of the brain entirely: the so-called multiple demand network, a region that is activated when many different pieces of information have to be processed at the same time. One of the researchers is quoted saying “It does pretty much anything that's cognitively challenging, that makes you think hard.”

Another interesting finding is that since programming is such a young discipline, they have not yet been able to detect a region in the brain that is exclusively devoted to only that. Nevertheless, they suggest that “such specialized brain activity might develop in people who have much more coding experience.” Hence, someone who has been coding and programming for the past 30 or 40 years might show a different brain activity than someone who only just started.

I was surprised to find there is an entire scientific field researching cognition and brain functions in programmers, and in doing so attempting to find effective ways to teach coding/programming.

I never considered this might be an active research field, but it seems like it might be interesting to know your own cognitive functions. To learn more, I just ordered The Programmer’s Brain.

The chapters look very promising, especially “Decoding your confusion while coding.” Maybe understanding what my brain is up to will help me understand better what I am doing, or what I am getting into. But then again: Maybe I do not need to understand why I am so drawn to learning how to code now, maybe I will just accept the challenge and dive into it.

Needless to say I changed my elective module for next semester – I am doing Server-side Web Development now.  

[yshai-tia]

LFRP: Y’shai Tia ☀️��

LFRP – Y’shai Tia (Crystal, Balmung)

The Basics ––– –

Age: 27

Birthday: 28th day of the 1st Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo’te, Seeker/Keeper mutt.

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Homosexual

Physical Appearance ––––

Hair: Black as pitch, feathery cut with oft adornments of small braids tied off with beads, a style from his young Tribal years that he continues to maintain to this day. Lazy days will have the braids undone and free flying.

Eyes: Blue on the left, green on the right. Pupils a touch wider than the average Seeker's though it's hardly noticeable at a distance.

Height: 5 fulms, 9 ilms. (5'9")

Build:  Built and toned, compacted muscle that's common among his race. Broad shoulders and noticeably sculpted arms and thighs. Much like their totem, Miqo'te of the Y tend to build strong physiques through years of swimming and tree climbing that mark their hunting ways.

Distinguishing Marks: A scar of his jawline, dark coloured traditional tribal tattoo on his nose. His torso is covered in angry scars that healed poorly, along with distinct lightning scarring (lichtenberg scars) up along his arms and various spots of healed burns on his hands and fingers. However he's rarely seen in revealing dress so these are usually covered up.

Common Accessories: Gloves, more often that not fingerless. Silver hoops in his ears. When in casual, work dress; a toolbelt around his waist adorned with various pouches, holds a number of things; pliers, flint stones, needle and threads, at least one marginally clean rag, magnifying glasses, gil pouch, adhesive, a balm or two for soothing burns, just to name a few. When dressed for fieldwork rarely is he seen not sporting a pair of scarlet goggles.

Personal ––––

Profession:  Hunter, tradesman, jack of all trades for hire. Not exactly picky with the work he picks up as long as it pays and isn't abhorrently morally askew. Naturally he'll jump at any chance to work with tech, however. Most of the gil he pockets comes from repair and commission work.

Skills: Former huntsman of the Y turned engineer, skills lie in archery, tracking, marksmanship and machina work. Things he would consider more hobbies than skills of his own are botany, fishing, swimming, weaving, leatherworking, carpentry and cooking, as these were basic skills taught to all tribespeople of the Y.

Languages:  Eorzean Common, Huntspeak.

Residence: Previously the Raincatcher Gully in Eastern La Noscea, currently frequenting various inn rooms depending on where he last picked up a job. Most often spotted in Gridania and Ishgard.

Birthplace: Raincatcher Gully.

Religion:  Though not as fervently as when he was at home, he still personally follows the teachings of Azeyma. He has a desire to learn the teachings of Menphina as well.

Patron Deity: Azeyma the Warden, Goddess of Inquiry.

Fears: Tight, closed-off spaces, caves deep underground, cages, etc. Freezing to death. Being bound and imprisoned.

Relationships ––––

Children: None.

Parents: Y'sharai Vanoh, high priestess of the Y (Mother, Status unknown), unknown Keeper (Father)

Siblings: He considers those he grew up with around his age group as his siblings regardless of blood relation

Other Relatives: In reality, blood relations matter little and, though he left, he still considers all of the Y of the tribe he grew up with his family. However strained.

Pets: Not that he would consider him a pet in those exact words, but his Chocobo, Omelette. Don't ask about the name, or do if you fancy seeing Y'shai embarrassed.

Traits ––––

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized (in a chaotic way he can make sense of)

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious /  In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader /  In Between / Follower

Empathetic /  In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––––

Smoking Habit: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess Drugs: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess Alcohol: Never / Sometimes / Frequently / To Excess

RP Hooks ––––

★ I Can Fix That: A freelance tradesman and borderline obsessive tinkerer, Y'shai is pretty handy when it comes to most styles of craft. Clothes need mending? Chronometer on the fritz? Aetherotransformer not converting properly? Did a Big Bad blow a hole in your armor? He might be able to solve your problem for you-- for a fair price of course, guy’s gotta eat after all. Though it's said that if he's brought an interesting piece of tech his curiousity will override and he'll eagerly look at it for free. ★ Custom Built: Along with repairs Y'shai also offers a modification service on the side-- mostly for firearms, though more mechanically built bows also fall under his expertise. Looking to add a scope? Or alter the chambers so you can utilize different sorts of elemental-aspected ammunition? Or maybe you're just looking to get some fancy engraving work done. If you're looking to treat yourself and your six shooter, look no further. ★ Skysteel Frequenter: With his recent apprenticeship at Skysteel Manufactory he's currently seen in the workshop quite a bit. If you happen to also be in and out of there on a nigh daily basis chances are you've seen him around. Whether it's a mutual love for the marksman life or to geek out together over tech, there can be common ground to be struck here. ★ Putting the Cat in Catburglar: Though he doesn't exactly make it common, public knowledge, when Y'shai needs to replenish his sources of Garlean tech he'll wait until night falls and raids the nearest Castrum for parts. And to cause a general ruckus. Do you hate the empire? Do you have an interest their magitech? Love storming their bases just for the hell of it? It'd be a lot easier to carry out more parts with more hands on deck after all... ★ Ehcatl Nine Blackguard: It's not uncommon to find Y'shai around the Twelveswood, originally he sought out Gridania for multiple reasons; to improve on his archery, to learn of Keeper culture, to visit the woods his mother once spoke of so fondly. But it was among the beastribe of Ixal known as the Ehcatl Nine where his, at the time, novice experience as a craftsman was free to take wing. Literally. Though it's been some moons since he finished contributing to the development of the Dezul Qualan airship, he still enjoys visiting from time to time to see how they're coming along. He feels permanently indebted to Sezul and his crew. ★ Moon Gazing: Though not all too open about his heritage, Y'shai does have a secret desire to learn more of Keeper culture and the teachings of Menphina. Part of him feels he shouldn't care, not as if his Pops was ever a part of his life-- but on the other hand it's clearly something his mother knew of and loved enough to stay distant from home from some time. Are you a tribal Keeper? A priest/priestess of Menphina? Don't mind inelegantly asked questions? Apologies in advance. ★ Jaguar of the Rainforest: Fellow members of the Y who grew up in the Raincatcher sept would know Y'shai as family or former family considering their stance on his departure. And, though very rare, there is always a chance outsiders have happened upon the Y settlement in the past and met Y'shai long before he became who he is today. (this would take some pre-plotting together!)

★ Restoring the Firmament: Working out of Ishgard via the Manufactory means Y’shai is in prime, and eager, position to devote a good portion of his time to the recently begun restoration of the Firmament district. Are you also dedicated to seeing Ishgard flourish once more? Crafter and/or gatherer of no small renown? Maybe you’re just into watching from the sidelines and admiring the very nice view of all the hard-working men and women doing heavy lifting.

What I’m looking for ––––

Just about anything and everything in between. Friends, enemies, rivals, someone you have to work with that you can’t tolerate but secretly admire (and oh no they’re kinda hot?), a complete stranger to get drunk with under the stars and discuss the intricacies of life and why apkallu omelettes are superior to dodo omelettes-- c’mon dude they are way fluffier! I love light-hearted slice of life moments, intense, high-stakes action scenes and espionage, meaningful angst and scenes rife with emotion, falling into the dark underbelly of Eorzea and learning what grey morality really is. Chances are if you think it sounds dope and worth exploring so do I! I love writing for the sake of writing and if you feel similarly we’ll probably click.

The ultimate dream is fulfilling my favourite trope of a Found Family, but ‘course something like that would take dedication! 

OOC info ––––

18+, Canadian, EST. Here to have a good time.

I have discord and all that jazz so if you want a snappier way to communicate just lemme know. I like to think I’m pretty laid-back in all regards and not too much can ruffle my feathers, so don’t be scared to hit me up, world is your oyster! yeehaw

my boy also has a carrd, you’ll find everything here on there but with Extra Lore™! 

[tgai-spock]

A sharp intake

Chapter 9

It smelt like swimming pools, packed and empty at the time, the air conditioning the was the only thing keeping things together. Spock stood beside the captains chair, unbeknown to him much like his older self did.

“Are you just….gazing at the stars?” Jim asks his chin resting on his hand as he stared intensely at him, like a fool might stare at a kitten.

“What else would I do?” Spock asked.

“Oh I don’t know” he said, deciding that this was what Spock did most of the time. He always thought he was thinking, doing some math or some science - but maybe not, maybe he really was just staring out the window. Chekov looked over the back of his shoulder and scratched his head, a paranoid itch going down his arm.

“Don’t you have hobbies? Something you can be doing? Reading maybe?” Chekov suggested. 

“I’ve tried to read.” Spock said.

“What do you read, history?” Uhura asked.

“Terran classics, ‘Lord of the rings’, ;Alice in wonderland’ ’50 shades of grey’ ‘Jurassic park’. Although I was somewhat prompted to read jurassic park…”

“I’ve got a few classics you might like” Kirk suggested.

“No thanks. Everytime I open a book and begin reading them I remember I’ve already read them.” Spock said.

“Oh. So what are you going to do with your time then?”

Spock shrugged “I dunno.”

Kirk grinned his cheeks raising to his eyes “well I’m sure we’ll find something for you. It won’t do to have you stand here all the time, though I don’t mind, I think Chekov does.”

“Sir, please” Chekov said turning in his chair “I am just nervous, when Spock is older he will recount Thursday, and he will say chekov, you hit the button to slowly, chekov you tapped your foot too much, Chekov you’ve were navigating us in the wrong direction and corrected without telling anyone in hope no one would notice, chekov your uniform is crinkled when you sit on it.”

“Hmm” Captain Kirk nodded “Sulu are we on the right course?”

“Errrr” Sulu said, his eyes spinning from the Chekov to the Captain, he hits a few buttons on the console “of course, Sir.”

“You two aren’t filling me with confidence today.”

“It is like examiners day, I will loose points because I sweat” Chekov said.

“Hmmm” Kirk said. 

“I could give you some books to read. They wouldn’t be classics, but they would be written in this decade. It’s logical to read them because you can see how modern humans talk and interact with eachother, and compare the changing of the genres.”

“I suppose” Spock nodded.

“Or you could just read them because they’re fun” Chekov said.

“No. I need a purpose to read them.” Spock said firmly

“Oh? And what purpose did you have to read lord of the rings?” Kirk asked.

“History.” Spock said. Sulu glanced back to Spock and then to Chekov.

“That was my favourite time in history” Sulu said.

“Yes I was fond of the orcs” Chekov said.

“I feel like a hobbit myself.” Sulu said.

“It’s a shame they went extinct.” Chekov said and Sulu giggled.

“Mr Spock, perhaps you are related to Legolass.” Chekov suggested.

“Captain. These men are idiots. This is a new level of illogic I have not seen before, and I find myself unsure whether this ship will survive for twenty eight days in space.”

“Spock, don’t be mean, not everyone knows their books as well as me, or you apparently, nerd.” Kirk said light heartedly.

“What?” Spock asked sharply.

“Would you like to educate Sulu and Checkov on why ‘Lord Of The Rings’ is historic?” Kirk suggested.

“Lord Of The Rings is symbolism for the second world war.” Spock said.

“Oh” Sulu rolled his eyes “good guys vs bad guys, I guess I should have seen that coming “isn’t… that every war to someone?”

“I love reading for symbolism.” Chekov joked.

“I do read symbolism in books” Kirk said offended “thats enough talking I’m sure you should be paying more attention to the ship.”

Chekov gave a hearty chuckle “of course Sir.”

Kirk spoke to Spock quietly after that. Quiet whispers about ‘Lord Of The Rings’ and favourite characters. 

“Captain” Officer Finnegan said approaching him from the lift with a paid “is it wise to have Commander Spock? He is a child.”

“He’s not working as the Commander right now” Kirk said with a smile.

“I don’t think the bridge is the safest place for a vulcan.” Finnegan said his eyes glancing over the tiny vulcan.

“Finnegan” Kirk said sitting up “it’s a quiet day, it is perfectly safe for him to be here.”

“I don’t think it is-”

“I will leave then.” Spock said taking a step back from the captain.

“Spock you don’t need to do that.” Kirk said “Finnegan who the fuck even are you? God this writers so lazy summoning up villains just to move the plot on, and make you say oof.”

“It’s fine. I’m well adapted to telling when I’m not wanted, I’m sure I can find something else to do.” Spock said and turned on his foot, walking past Finnegan with a breeze that even with his small height seemed intimidating.

“Spock come back. Come on” Kirk called.

“No” Spock said almost huffed as he entered the lift.

Spock was an adventurer. In the days before he’d go to the mountains, to walk deep into the desert finding what he could to survive with I-Chaya in tow. Today he wandered the halls of a starship. He started where he would always begin, at the bottom of the mountain. So the lift took him to the bottom of the ship.

He snuck out the lift into a hallway of pipes, where his ears stung from loud shouting humans. No one noticed him as he stayed close the side of the walls. The crew in engineering was different from anywhere else on the ship. Hands on and intelligent thinkers, tinkers and inventors, it was officially professional work, but the lack of professionalism they had would not be seen nor put up with else where on the ship.

Knowing that if he were spotted he would be made to leave, Spock ran and crouched, hiding behind pipes and boxes. Some meters from him Spock spotted a group of humans leaning over an upside down box that they were using like a table. They were smoking, and fans drifted the fumes away from themselves. A red shirt leant with cigarette in hand as he looked bright eyed at the other four around him.

“So I said to him, maybe if you had the surgery on your eyes and not you dick, we wouldn’t even be having this problem.”

His sentence ended with hearty laughter from the others, the sense of the joke, the story, a glimpse of documentation escaping the sense of Spock. 

There were boxes piled high in the corner of the room. There were boxes piled high in most places, but the pile in the corner caught Spock’s eyes. The boxes left little more than a meter between themselves and the roof, but on the roof, was a vent. Perfect to climb into. Dangerous to climb into. The perfect challenge. So Spock ducked and rolled to the boxes, and began his climb. He did it slowly and he did it carefully but that wasn’t the hard part. Spock laid flat on the top of the boxes, he had perfect sight over the people. Groups and couples that walked, carrying tools and scanners, tapping at pipes and - Spock squinted. One man was placing duct tape around a leaking water pipe. Spock sighed shaking his head. He should probably mention how bad that is - when he’s older. That can’t be proper procedure. When he was certain no one was looking Spock began to undo the screw’s from the vent by twisting them with his hand. When all the screws were undone he carefully and quietly pulled down the vent grid and put it on top of the boxes. He climbed into the vent.

No matter how quietly Spock tried to crawl he was sure he was making a racket. He was sure every time he moved his arm forwards the metal clinked and banged. He was sure a knee forwards sent a shuddering though the whole of the ship. After spending ten minutes slowly climbing forwards Spock rolled on to his back and rubbed at his head. He was sure when he came out where-ever that be, there would be a group of people waiting to question him. To ask him what he thought he was doing. Why he had opened the vent. What the purpose of doing so was. This was why Spock had stopped. What was his explanation? He had not words he could say to those people. To the Captain, to McCoy. After a while, Spock rolled back around and made his way forth deciding to keep a vow of silence when they found him, because they would. He was certain.

The vent ended at a grid looking in to a dark room. It wasn’t fully dark, there were large windows that looked out in to space, and space lit his way. It took a while for Spock to realise why he couldn’t see anything in the room. There was nothing in the room. Spock slipped his fingers through the holes of the vent to unscrew it. But his fingers, from this side, weren’t long enough. He was stuck. He took a deep breath, and carefully turned himself around. Laying on his back with his feet facing the vent he gave it a few solid kicks. At the fifth kick the vent flew off the wall. Spock escaped. Walking over to the vent Spock picked it up. The screws were still firmly attached to the vent as was a small portion of the wall around the screws. Sighing Spock stood on the middle of the vent attempting to straighten out the mess he had made. The vent actually straightened enough to be passable so he carefully balanced it back on the wall. He took a few steps back examining the vent carefully. No one should notice unless they got close.

The room he had discovered was dark, and empty. It was some sort of unused, perhaps even forgotten observation deck. Could things be forgotten on a spaceship? The door showed the most sign of life, and that door had spider cobwebs across it. How? They must have sneaked on by sitting on someones shoulder. There was also a bench against it and some other planks of wood. The entire place was empty. There were other vents but they didn’t really take Spock’s attention. Spock walked up to the window and sat staring cross legged out across the stars. He wasn’t sure what he would be doing for the next few days, but at least he had found this. He laid down on his side, one elbow beneath his head. It wasn’t quiet, wherever he was, he was too close to the engine room still. But it wasn’t a horrible racket he could hear, it was just a gentle purr.

Spock woke some time later, and he turned over on his other side as he watched the door shake. A crowbar shot through the centre of the door. Spock sat crossed legged silently watching the feat as fingers slipped between the door pulling it opened. There stood the Captain, McCoy, Finnegan and Uhura.

“Spock!” McCoy was the first to push himself through he door “what are you doing here?”

He ran forth, making Spock flinch slightly as he ran a scanner over Spock. Spock looked carefully at McCoy wondering if he should keep his vow of silence as the Captain rushed over.

“Is he okay?” Kirk asked crouching.

“According to this he is perfectly fine.” McCoy said standing up.

“Spock, what are you doing here?” Uhura asked concernedly.

“I didn’t even know this room existed. On my ship as well.” Kirk said looking around the room.

“Was it because of Finnegan?” Uhura whispered.

“Yeah Spock” Finnegan said in a carefree attitude “I’m sorry if like I upset.”

“I’m vulcan. You did not upset me.” Spock said standing up, as he decided he didn’t like the attention he was getting. He literally hadn’t spared a second thought to Finnegan.

“Wait, Spock where do you think you’re going?” Uhura asked “you can’t just go off by yourself.”

“Spock, I thought you had gone back to McCoy, do you realise what the ships been like since we discovered you missing? This past hour has been chaos looking for you.” Kirk said. Spock looked at the people surrounding him. His way was thoroughly blocked. The vent Spock had propped up fell on to the floor with a bang, cascading dust surrounded it as the humans jumped to look at it. They turned back to Spock, looking for an explanation as he finished a yawn.

“Oops?”

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]        [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]        [Chapter 5]

[Chapter 6]     [Chapter 7]       [Chapter 8]   [chapter 9]   [Chapter 10]

[Chapter 12]

----

Yeah I did just rewrite chapter 9 again, but consider this, now, it is better. Huh? Huh??

[smolbeandrabbles]

Yellin’ From The Rooftop - Malcolm Bench x Reader (Vertical Limit)

Author’s Note: Okay, stop complaining at me, Mal, now you really ARE the last Mendo.  I suppose just because of what I’m talking about half the time, it’s a Modern!AU?  (like you couldn’t do this until 2012...) Also you might need to know a little bit about Up At The O2. I literally was half way up when I got this idea...

Disclaimer: Vertical Limit / Characters / Lyrics not mine (Because if it was, we would have pushed Elliot Vaughn off a freakin’ cliff...) Premise: Malcolm is back from K2 base camp, and you figured you can give him a similar Summiting experience closer to home... with mixed results! Words: 2425 Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations

_______

It's something that I never felt And I can't keep it to myself You got me yellin' from the rooftop, so everybody knows I'm falling for you baby, Never letting you go I'm screaming from the mountain, gonna sing it everywhere Yeah, you can call me crazy, baby I don't care Can you hear me, hear me Yellin' from the rooftop Tellin' the whole world... You can call me lady lucky, I know I've been blessed Your kissin' got my heart beatin' out of my chest It's easy like breathin', you make me come alive But it's a whole lot more than just a feeling inside It's love, no shadow of doubt So true I gotta let it out

---

Is the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending Up on the roof with a school girl crush Drinking beer out of plastic cups Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff Baby, all at once, this is enough  ---

!Welcome Malcolm to the Australian Bois with London Girlfriends club! On a rare break from consistently summiting K2, whether it be with his brother or as a guide, Malcolm was flying home. Although really he wasn’t even flying home. He was flying to you. In London. As expected, you had met him on one such K2 excursion years back and you’d kept in touch. And keeping in touch led to other things and now you’d been back to K2 innumerable times. And the two of you were certainly together. Malcolm liked London, on the few occasions he’d been. Only this time you had a surprise for him you thought he might enjoy, as a mountaineer. Sure, you could drive him to summit something a little smaller elsewhere in the UK but, there was something right here in London that you thought would be just as good.  But maybe you’d thought too much or got to excited or thought he might enjoy it a little too much. Because you were met with a blank stare and a fairly grumpy face; “What?!” Your question was innocent enough “We’re doing what?!” “Climbing the O2!” “...The venue...?” He blinked slowly and raised an eyebrow, “Why would we wanna do that...?” “It’ll be fun!” You tried not to sound so disheartened “...Fun?” He places his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels; “I climb stuff every day...” None the less your enthusiasm allowed you to drag him across London. “Mal! You’ll see the sky line from up there!” He indicated to the high-rise window of your apartment; “I can see it from here!” “But you’ll be outside in the middle of it all in climbing gear...!”  Malcolm sighed gently and gave a kiss to your forehead, trying not to roll those pretty brown eyes of his again. And fought the urge to tell you that if he wanted to climb and see skylines, he wouldn’t be at K2 all the time. *** So here you were, day of, and really excited. And Malcolm trying his best to (obviously) fake it didn’t even deter your spirits. Sure, you had also done K2 before but you didn’t live there all climbing season like he did. It wasn’t your life’s work. Most of the time you had a normal city job, climbing was more of a hobby to you.  You spent a lot of the short briefing watching his face. And you could see him fluctuating between bored out of his mind and dying to ask which mountains your guide had climbed before to be such an expert at this. Like Malcolm didn’t just get up in the morning, put his stuff on and decided to take a leisurely stroll somewhere across K2. Especially as K2 was so technical. This would be easier than a walk in the park for him and both of you knew it. He was incredibly silent as he got ready. In about 5 seconds. And left you playing catch up. Alright show off, why don’t you lead the expedition!? You knew the only reason he wasn’t mouthing off was because of you; which you supposed was at least a little endearing. Still, it got him noticed, and you watched the guide, Kirsty, pull him aside: “Gotta say that was quick! You done this before?!” Malcolm gave a laugh “Uh, similar...” “Oh really?! Like what-!?” “I, uh...” He looked back to you like he needed permission to show off. Clipped into place you were the second person done; you gave him a gentle nod, to which you received a grin. You supposed he’d agreed to come after all that whining, so he deserved to brag a little bit;  “...I spend a portion of my year up at K2 base camp with my brother...!” “Sh—oot! Really!?” “Mm hmm...!” Though it was obvious that Malcolm was going to bask in the glory of this. “Gotta say I’m impressed. Everest is the tall one but K2 is the harder right?” “Yeah. K2 is my favourite...though she might hit me if I say otherwise...!” You eyed him at that; here he goes again, curse me for letting him!! “She also a mountaineer?” “Nah-! But I did meet here there!” “NAH-!?” You repeated, walking over and smacking his arm, “Nah-!?” “Uh... that’s... not exactly your job is it!” You raised an eyebrow at him, he could talk considering him and his brothers antics; “It’s laughable you call it a job.” “I’ll have you know-!” “Okayyy!” Kirsty laughed, “I don’t want to be responsible for a /break/ up at the O2!” You and Malcolm both made the same painful sound before laughing. Which made her smile; at least you were both fans of terrible puns!   ***  “So who wants to lead?” There was silence as any nerves set in for those around you; and Malcolm blew a breath out.   “I’ll do it.” Well, now he just looked like the loud-mouth flaunty Australian; but he didn’t care. Still he didn’t manage to escape you giving him a look. He probably wanted to get this over as soon as possible, you weren’t sure you’d forgive him for that one easily. “Oh...” Kirsty laughed, “I guess that makes sense!” She latched him onto the cabling and folded her arms; “You know if you lead you’re also responsible for getting people off at the end, right?” You knew that was the wrong choice of words by the way he tried and failed to hold back a smirk. “Darlin’, I’m a mountaineer... I think I got this...” but then he playfully nudged you, “responsible for gettin’ people off... Y/N!” You scoffed; “Ha! Getting people off, my ass.” “You fu-” You placed your hand over his mouth, knowing what was coming from the glint in his brown eyes; “You don’t have to tell everyone in London Town Malcolm!!” He gave a shrug, turning to look up to the minuscule summit as if it was K2 all over again; “I reckon you’re pretty loud enough to tell everyone in base camp...” “MALCOLM!” Your embarrassed exclamation only served to have him laugh loudly, which drew more attention to the two of you. “Don’t worry babe...” he turned with a wink “I’m pretty loud too!” Oh yeah like that helped. As expected from an experienced mountain climber, and you determined to stay hot on his heels after that initial she’s not a mountaineer comment, you and Malcolm were half way up in barely any time at all. He stopped and turned around, fixing you with his brown eyes; “What?!” “F**king look at this-! This is what you’ve made me a part of...!” You turned, realising how far back the rest of the group were. “Oh.” “Yeah f**king oh - this is unbelievable! I could do this eyes closed and backwards..!” You folded your arms; “Why don’t you then?!” He squinted at you, you’d watched that safety video too, right? “Thems the rules sweetheart.” “Oh!” There was surprise in your sarcasm; “I didn’t realise you played by the rules!” “Oh, don’t you start on me!” “I always start on you.” He tipped his head and frowned in agreement. “Eh. True.” You waited against the wire support for everyone to at least catch up a little. Malcolm muttering to himself about how he’d be at the top of K2 by now, and you every so often jabbing his side because you were a little sick of his complaining. As soon as everyone was within a few feet of you again he was off, without a care in the world. And you had to roll your eyes; I swear to god Malcolm Bench... Once you got to the top Kirsty decided she’d come up and help you out.  “...Now at the climax of your journey.” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her, with that same smirk. And even you hid your snort behind your hand. “Well now you’re just doing it on f**king purpose.” She gave a little shrug; “Who can say...” Undoing the chain to the platform and uncoupling him from the bars, she gave him a smile. “You’re free, mountaineer!” “Uh-! I thought I was supposed to be getting everyone off-!” You leant on the rail yourself, smirking at the perfect opportunity presenting itself; “Aw, c’mon Mal, you can’t have all the fun now...” Kirsty couldn’t help but laugh loudly at your comment, and he looked between the two of you. Trying to remain unimpressed; “Oh I see, you two are out to get me.” “Got that right...” She pushed him onto the platform without a second thought and turned to you; “You’re a saint.” “Oh. I know...” you stepped up and let her uncouple you; “Think you’re getting me off better than he would.” Malcolm folded his arms, but he was grinning; “You’re f**king unbelievable! Both of you!” ***  You knew he was trying not to say it was impressive. But the way he swivelled around the little platform let you know that he was. Holding a plastic glass of champagne in his hands made him look the part - but also so out of place - and you couldn’t help almost crack up. Once he was satisfied he’d taken in the Skyline view, he turned his attention to a better one and strolled over to you. “Well, now I feel like a Champagne connoisseur...” “Oh yeah, and look like one.” He pushed you gently with his elbow, “Sarcasm?! Now that’s not very nice is it!” Malcolm cleared his throat “...Here I am on my roof top, exclusive and private... looking out over London Town... thinking about where my private jet might be taking me next.” “Back to K2?” “Was that a question? you wanna go... or just a suggestion.” “Would you take me back?” “Hell yeah!!” Those brown eyes brightened considerably, “... Question is are we leaving Cyril at base camp?” “That’s...” you tried not to smile at the look on his face, “...uh. Mean!” “I think he’d rather not be there, don’t you!?” “I dunno! He’s alright, I like him.” “Look, just f**king agree to come!” A second smile threatened, “Mmmmm... What exactly are you asking me to agree to?” If you could take a snap shot of his picture-perfect realisation, and wicked grin, then you would; “F**k me...! Bad girl...” he took a sip of champagne, “Later...” “That’s the idea...” That caused Malcolm to almost choke, and he glared at you with that smirk on your face “... Yes, I’ll climb K2 with you again, babe.” He clinked his plastic glass against yours “I’ll drink to that... babe.” You watched him wander around the platform with his phone, taking pictures and couldn't help but follow his footsteps giggling. "What's so funny?!" "You and whatever you're doing!" "I'm sending photographed to my brother!!" "Oh - uh huh?" You folded your arms, "Can't be that bad if you're giving Cyril the ’Look Where I Am’ treatment." Malcolm opened his mouth to somewhat agree with you, realised that was a bad move and narrowed his eyes, pointing at you instead; "Not that I would ever concede that point!" You shook your head with a small smile at his defiance. Oh Malcolm. Your mistake is thinking you can only concede verbally...  ***  After being hooked back to the climbing apparatus, Malcolm was surprisingly quiet for most of the way down. Kirsty (for some reason) trusted him enough to make his own way with you; and now he had a lot to think about. He would be going back to base camp in a few weeks - could he get you out before the season was over? He sure hoped so; but then how much planning and logistics would that take? Suddenly he stopped, realising that he should be enjoying the moment with you rather than pondering what happens next, and you almost crashed into him. "Mal-! Think before you stop babe!!" He raised an eyebrow as he turned, at the irony of that sentence. "I was thinking..." "Oh..." He realised he'd played right into it, when you smirked and responded with "Makes a nice change..." Malcolm wasn't even going to give you the satisfaction of a smile at that, and instead held his hand out "Come on... Let me help you down..." You were hesitant for the notion of him trying to throw you off the side, or trip you up on purpose - but you realised why he was asking for your hand. He'd done the same thing on your first ascent of K2 together. "That's sweet of you..." You took his offer, threading your fingers with his; "...I could really use some help getting down... I'm glad I found a guide just in time." That one was clearly for his Ego, and it worked by the smile on his face, but he remained quiet. He wouldn't tell you to shut up just yet... When you got to the bottom, he nigh on made you run the steepest section. And slowed up to free himself. "Thank GOD that's over!!!" He said loud enough to hope Kirsty also heard it, and beckoned you towards him. There was a threatening look on your face and he thought he might get hit again, mercifully you decided against that.  He released you gently but kept ahold of your harness for his punchline; "See, I'm a good guy. I get my girlfriend off first!" You tried not to laugh at that, but then hit him for making you laugh so he was no better off; only this time he laughed along.  "She better be the only one you get off!!" "Ahhhh---! I mean, no promises! That is my job..." He let you go, "But I mean, yeah... I'm pretty sure you promised me later." "How the hell does anyone ever get you to shut up?" Malcolm tipped his head, with a grin and a laugh "hmmm... Get me off, maybe?" "Oh, for God’s sake!" You leant forward and kissed him. "...Oh yeah..." Now his voice was quiet "...that... might work..." You both stepped away for a minute, and he took your hand back in his as you raised your eyes back to the 'summit.' "Another mountain to check of the list... Mal." "Oh for sure, and as difficult as any other..." He gave a smile and pulled you closer into him; "...K2 next...?" "Oh... It'll be a walk in the park after this one..." You both laughed, but he nudged you gently "I dunno... Some stuff’s just easier with you around, ain't it..." You shot him a look "Don't you start..." He grinned, looking back to that brilliant London skyline; "... What, would you rather I was joking?" ---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad.

[artificialqueens]

Free Falling, Chapter 10: Working as a Unit (Branjie) - writworm42

A/N: Last chapter, Brooke and Vanessa’s feud got to a ridiculously bad level, so their coworkers locked them in the Snoezelen room together until they kissed & made up. This chapter, the unit gets to work on planning the fundraiser.

This took a WHILE whew but I’m really happy with how it turned out. That being said, it wouldn’t have turned out the way it did without Holtzmanns kicking my ass and being the best beta, cheerleader, and brainstorm-buddy I could ask for <3

Also, writing A'keria take on entitled old white men is my new favourite pastime

As early as the next morning, the vibe around the unit had become unrecognizable from the way it had been for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t just that things had returned to normal— because well, they hadn’t.

They’d gotten even better.

The minute that Brooke and Vanessa had been released from the Snoezelen room by their colleagues, the team hit the ground running - and there had been no stopping them since. Brooke had to admit, in a way, that she was taken by surprise by how quickly, efficiently, and effectively everyone worked.

Sure, Ra’jah was an amazing team lead who wrangled patients and fellow nurses alike without so much as blinking, but who knew that she’d be just as fearless on the phone haggling with vendors? And Vanessa knew that Shuga spent most of her time with parents, but who knew that she’d be able to generate so many RSVPs and reach out to so many community members and partners so quickly? Or that Soju had connections with almost every major public event and performance venue in the city, making it easy for Brooke to book a space? Even A’Keria and Ariel pitched in, somehow convincing 1712’s family to cater the event with a wide menu full of nutritionally-balanced, gluten-free, allergen-free, vegetarian, vegan, halaal, and kosher options.

In fact, Brooke actually had very little to do except sign forms, balance the budget, and get administrative clearance for the event.

It was nice, knowing everyone had her back. Plus, it left her plenty of time for what was fast becoming her favourite hobby: watching Vanessa work.

Maybe it was the honeymoon phase, or maybe Brooke just got excited when others did. Maybe it was that Vanessa’s passion for her work really was infectious. Either way, the more Vanessa became involved with the fundraiser, the more Brooke found herself wishing that she’d known about occupational therapy sooner.

“I finished the floor plans for the booths, everything should be up to code and completely wheelchair accessible.” Vanessa beamed as she slammed a roll of blueprints down on Brooke’s desk, so giddy with excitement that she didn’t even notice that Brooke was taking a phone call. “Ain’t this great?”

It was, and Brooke had never been so eager to get off the phone to tell her so.

“I’m trying to build an adaptive dunk-tank,” Vanessa bounded up to Brooke with an excited flush across her face when she entered the office the next day, the smaller woman’s hair disheveled as if she’d been actively wrestling with prototype materials. “Can I liaise with the building maintenance and engineering staff to steal wood from them or what?”

Brooke said yes, and not even a day later, Vanessa gave her no reason to be disappointed, a fully functional tank ready to be painted and moved out to the venue, its builder ready to accept her thanks in the form of more than one enthusiastic kiss.

In fact, the more Vanessa let Brooke into her world, the prouder Brooke became of her. After all, how many people could say that their girlfriend’s job was encouraging kids like Kam to work on reaching by practicing reaching for prize stuffed animals, or helping a kid like Monet’s fine motor skills by practicing face-painting and readying her to be Soju’s face-painting assistant?

The best part, though, was that it gave Brooke an entirely new perspective not just on Vanessa’s job, but on Vanessa herself.

Vanessa wasn’t just compassionate–empathy came off of her in waves, her heart constantly worn on her sleeve for everyone to see from the moment she walked into the therapy gym. And she wasn’t just creative–she was resourceful, her mind fierce in its ability to look at nothing and make it into something in a few seconds flat. And even though Vanessa could be stubborn, even though she could be a bulldozing pain in the ass when an idea came into her head that she just couldn’t let go of, Brooke came to realize that Vanessa only ever brought her claws out to protect the people she loved.

Brooke really could see why everyone so dearly loved Vanessa right back. She could only hope that others would love her like that one day, too.

As the day of the fundraiser crawled closer, Brooke couldn’t help but feel like the unit was growing stronger and stronger every day with every task that got checked off their to-do list. The adrenaline was starting to get to her and Vanessa too, making them get even bolder, even closer than ever. It was as if their brains had become synced over late-night planning sessions with more than a few kisses shared between pages of blueprints.

“Brooke, that’s it.” Vanessa collapsed back into Brooke’s desk chair two days before the fundraiser, her whole body going slack as she relaxed into the obus-forme backrest she had insisted Brooke add onto its surface ( “trust me, baby, it’ll prevent lower back pain in the long run” ). “That was the last form. We ain’t got nothing left to do. We’re finished.”

Brooke looked over to the papers on her desk, scanning for any plan left unexamined, any to-do list item left unchecked, any i left undotted or t left uncrossed. Vanessa was right - she couldn’t find anything of the sort.

They were done. The event planning was finally finished.

“I can’t believe it.” Brooke laughed, sighing with relief. “One day ahead of schedule, too. Oh my God.”

Vanessa moved out of Brooke’s chair and gestured for Brooke to take her place. “I’m proud of you, baby.” She climbed up onto Brooke’s lap, running her fingers through Brooke’s hair. Brooke hummed as she melted back into the chair’s cushioned surface, melted into the smooth, gentle feeling of Vanessa’s hands against her scalp.

“All we have to do now is keep everything running smoothly.” she sighed contentedly. It was interesting–a few months ago, she was confident that everything had come together, that she’d finally fit as a piece in the unit’s puzzle.

Now, though, watching everyone work together so eagerly, so seamlessly , it was like a whole different vibe. They weren’t pieces making a picture anymore; they were the picture right off the box, the picture everyone else tried to make.

And the most satisfying part was, none of it was Brooke’s doing, not really. Not individually, at least.

It was everyone who made that possible. And they did it without even trying.

“What do you say I drive you home, baby?” Vanessa’s voice roused Brooke from the dozing state she had begun to slip into, the smaller woman’s hands still keeping time as they stroked through Brooke’s hair, “I think you’ve earned a good night’s sleep.”

Brooke yawned, a slow, milky sense of fatigue finally overtaking her as her face smoothed over into a peaceful smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

–

The shift in energy around the unit the next day was unmistakable.  The air was giddy with excitement, and one could barely turn a corner in the hallway without hearing fundraiser or carnival fall from someone’s lips.

Volunteers asked each other if they were going to go, trading stories of what they were most excited about and whether or not they were manning a booth. Parents chatted excitedly about how they couldn’t wait and how it would be a nice break. Kids called their friends to make plans for getting together, many of them practically bursting with happiness at the thought of doing something that didn’t have the word therapy attached, something they could invite everyone outside the hospital to do with them.

The vibe was also leaking to other parts of the hospital. Volunteers passed out tickets to early-bird RSVPs and sold last-minute pre-entry in the lobby, and inpatients and outpatients alike spotted the flyers and caught wind of the talk, resolving to go to themselves in support of the kids.

The most palpable change, though, was in the staff. When Brooke walked into the unit that morning, everyone was crowded around Plastique’s desk with a large tray of cupcakes, already celebrating their success. When Brooke had started at Charles-Visage, she probably would have popped a lung yelling for their waste of time, resources, and disrespect for hospital policy. Now, though, she took a cupcake from the tray, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure when the rich taste of dark chocolate frosting melted onto her tongue.

They hadn’t even done it yet, technically, but they’d done it.

No matter how tomorrow worked out, Brooke was sure that in many other ways, they’d already won.

“Am I interrupting something, ladies?” A sneering voice suddenly burst the team out of their happy bubble, all of them turning to see a tall, older man in a neatly-pressed business suit standing behind them with his arms crossed, a half-crushed fundraiser flyer in his hand.

“Gary.” Brooke nodded curtly, a hush falling over the group as tension set in.

“No, no, please, continue, don’t let me stop this, hm, fun you all seem to love up here.” He sniffed derisively. “Enjoy it while it lasts, since apparently, it’s not going to last long.”

“Now, hold on, Geoffrey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ra’jah challenged from behind Brooke, hand already on her hip. “You’re holding one of our flyers, you’ve clearly seen it.”

Gary, for his part, seemed nonplussed, though the twitch in his eye at being called Geoffrey was unmistakable. “I don’t know, girls, it just seems a bit, you know, desperate. ”

This time, Brooke didn’t have to bristle at the condescension–everyone behind her was already doing so.

“What do you mean, desperate?” She rolled her eyes as she said it.

“Well, I mean, we at high intensity outpatient never have to do this. Besides, it’ll never work.” he scoffed.

“Never work? What kinda nonsense you talkin’, Garfield?” Silky snorted, barely stifling her smile as Gary’s eye twitched again.

“A lump sum like a donation can only go so far. Eventually, the funds you raise will dry up, and by then, all you’ll have done is raised funds for a service that’s going under anyway. A waste of time and resources.” He shrugged.

If Brooke hadn’t been so seethingly mad, she would have been impressed at his ability to be staring fifteen grown women in the face and speaking to them all like children instead of like the educated professionals that treated them. But before Brooke could so much as think of something to spit back at him, he turned to her with an almost completely contemptful smile.

“Really, Miss Hytes, I would have thought you would understand finances a little better, given your position. Although, I suppose a bunch of kids wouldn’t notice inexperience, would they?”

That was it. Brooke felt something else take over her; her head began to spin and rage rose in her throat, indignation bubbling on her tongue. Her team?Inexperienced?

Not Yvie, who had been hired straight out of her placement because she’d achieved top marks and had made such a good impression on all the staff there. Not Plastique, who had everything Brooke needed done before Brooke even realized it was a task that was still outstanding. Certainly not Shuga, who had over twenty years to generate a mile-long resume that she kept as a record of all the different experiences she’d had, all the lessons she’d learned and brought to the unit in her present practice. How dare he, how fucking dare he.

She was just about to tear Gary a new one, when she noticed his gaze. He was only looking at Brooke, his eyes full of contempt and something dangerously near some kind of put-on pity.

He wasn’t talking about the team.

He was talking specifically about her.

This wasn’t the first time Brooke had been underestimated. It wasn’t the first time her efforts or her achievements had been discounted. It more than likely wouldn’t be the last, either. She was used to it–used to rising above it, used to showing rather than telling, used to proving her adversaries wrong and making them eat their own words. To watching them squirm and letting their discomfort be her victory prize.

But apparently the team took a different approach.

“Sorry, Gabriel, who the flipper do you think you’re flipping talking to?” Scarlet shouldered her way to the front of the group, standing practically right in Gary’s face. “There’s no one inexperienced here.”

“That’s right,” Honey spoke up, coming to stand right behind Scarlet, “Brooke is the best manager we’ve ever had, and I dare you to say anything different.”

“Well, in that case, I feel sorry for–” but Gary didn’t have a chance to finish the sentence before A’keria was in his face, her short stature suddenly stretched to about six feet just by virtue of the threat in her posture and edge to her words.

“You ain’t feel sorry for nothing or nobody. You think you’re oh-so-mighty, well let me tell you somethin’, Mr Gregory, at least here, we ain’t gotta rely on our daddy’s name to get our positions. Brooke ain’t no exception to that.” She began to walk forwards, effectively forcing Gary back a step with each word.

“Brooke works harder than anyone else in this hospital, and ever since she been here, we been doing better than ever. Now I know we ain’t no rich people’s playground, but what do you wanna bet that if we pulled up the numbers, we’d see an exponential growth here, while you sittin’ pretty at half a billion but been in a plateau there for ten years?” She takes a step closer. “‘Cause we got your number, Gordon, and it ain’t a good one. Brooke is a better manager than you’ll ever be, and if you want to see it for yourself, tickets to the fundraiser are ten dollars each. Now get the flunk out of our unit.”

“Reginald.” Gary growled in correction, but before he could say anything else, there were the sounds of wheels rolling fast on the ground, followed by the tell-tale squealing of a five-year-old having the time of her life and the loud protests of a grown occupational therapist who wasn’t supposed to be running a scooterboard race in the inpatient hallway.

This time, when Gary went down, Ra’jah had nothing to say about it.