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raepritewrites · 2 months

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If Heather were ever to write a memoir about being a superhero, she was going to include an entire chapter about what to do when you get sucked into a portal, because it was a surprisingly frequent hazard of the job and was confusing as hell if you didn't know what you were doing.

Fortunately, she’d been through this song and dance a few times, so she started with gathering the basics. Who, what, where, how, and when?

First, who? Some c-lister villain who called himself Vibe. The team had been working on a case of break-ins where banks would be robbed through some sort of portal technology. In and out, easy as pie, with almost no trace left behind. The guy was slick she could give him that.

Nightwing had theorized the guy might have a teleport ray, judging by the tachyon readings they were getting. Further investigation, however, and a quick conversation with Flash had revealed that Vibe was a meta created from the particle accelerator explosion of Central City, which had given the speedster his own powers. It hadn't been too hard to track the guy down from there.

Second, what? Well, bad guy plus warehouse equals superhero fight. It had just been Nightwing, Superboy, and herself who went to track down and capture the meta. The rest of the squads had all been busy on other assignments, and really, how hard could it be to take this guy down with three of their heavy hitters on it?

Apparently, harder than they'd thought.

Vibe, it seemed, was just as slick at evading capture as burglary. The idea had been for Nightwing and Scarlet Spider to wear the guy out and keep him distracted until Superboy could get in a final hit. It had briefly worked, and then everything went wrong.

Scarlet probably shouldn't have antagonized Vibe so much, but it was fun winding bad guys up. She and Nightwing had come up with some good lines as they danced around the teleporter. She had so much experience fighting alongside Nightcrawler that she assumed she could guess this guy's next move without any trouble. He would zig, she would zag. She'd been... a little too confident. Her spider sense had warned her of the danger as she swung towards Vibe for one more kick to the gut, but her momentum had been too strong, and there was no avoiding the inevitable.

Vibe had realized the game they'd been playing with him and grabbed Superboy as he'd tried to sneak up from behind, flinging him over his shoulder and into her. They'd crashed into Nightwing in a pile of tangled limbs and curses.

By the time Scarlet Spider looked up, Vibe had a new portal open behind him. "As fun as this has been, I'll be taking my leave now. This earth has always been a little too hero-happy for my tastes," the man smirked and saluted them, stepping backwards into the swirl of blue and white light.

If Heather had a nickle for every time she made a very stupid last-minute decision, she and Bruce Wayne would be in the same tax bracket. This was just another five cents in her fictional bank account. She sent a webline to the ceiling, propelling her up and off of her teammates and into the portal, which promptly closed behind her.

Third question, where?

On the other side of the portal, it dawned on Heather very quickly how stupid she was as she found herself free-falling. High-rises and skyscrapers rushed past her in a blur as she struggled to orient herself.

Some part of her brain that sounded a lot like her step-father screamed at her to throw a webline, and after two desperate attempts failed to land on anything, her third try caught a gargoyle. Her arm wrenched in its socket from the abrupt change in trajectory, and she gritted her teeth to stifle the howl of agony that crawled up her throat. She looked around desperately and spotted a rooftop not far away that she could reach.

Her landing was less than ideal, tumbling head over heels before rolling to a painful stop on the tarmac. She lay for a moment to let the panic subside, panting heavily from the spasms radiating from her arm and down her torso. She stared up at a smog filled night sky and the glowing neon sign of an office building as her brain rebooted.

Once she could hear more than just her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, she took stock of her situation. While she'd torn a few muscles in her arm, the damage was minimal compared to being a smear on the sidewalk. She'd twisted her ankle when she'd landed, and it throbbed in a familiar way - not broken, but definitely sprained. Everything else seemed negligible; cuts, scrapes, and general bruises. She would deal.

She sat up slowly and frowned at the office building's sign, declaring it to be one of Wayne Enterprises' headquarters. Why Vibe had thought running to Gotham was a good idea was anyone's guess.

She checked her comm, but only received static in reply, no matter what frequency she tried. Maybe it had been damaged in the fall? Her phone worked, but had no signal at all, not even wifi. That was strange; WE had public wifi available at all there buildings. She needed to reach the team somehow to let them know her status, and that despite her best (very stupid) efforts their suspect was in the wind. She wasn't sure where the closest zeta beam was from here, but maybe she could reach Nightwing a different way.

Did Heather feel bad breaking into the department store? Yes, a little, but desperate times and all that.

She'd grabbed a pair of jeans, a belt (because of course the jeans didn't fit right, but she didn't have the luxury of time on her side to find a pair that did), and an oversized sweatshirt. She dropped a pre-paid credit card on the counter with the tags of the items she was stealing, hoping the owners wouldn't be too mad at her. She then made triple sure that all the cameras she'd covered in webbing were still technically functional -just ineffective for a few hours - and grabbed a shopping bag from the register to stuff her gear into it.

Outside the store, it had begun raining, because this was Gotham and she had Parker luck. It was only natural. After trudging through the rain for a few blocks, Heather finally hailed a cab in a more populated part of the city. The clock on the dash of the taxi read a little after four am, and the driver looked like he wasn't thrilled to have found a customer.

"I need to get to Bristol," Heather told him, trying to be short but polite.

The cabby raised an eyebrow at her, blowing smoke from his cigarette out his cracked window. "That's going to cost you, lady," he told her flatly. "If you hadn't noticed, this is the Diamond District, that's a long drive."

"If you can get me there quickly, I'll pay you double the fare in tip," Heather promised.

Both eyebrows went up at that. "You're the boss," he shrugged and pulled away from the curb.

Once they reached Bristol, Heather had the cab drop her off at the Drake Estate, a few miles from Wayne Manor. She didn't think the cab driver really cared about where this woman in ill-fitting clothes was going at the crack of dawn out in the most expensive neighborhood in Gotham. But just in case someone asked him about it later, she didn't want him saying he'd dropped the weird woman off at Brucie Wayne's mansion. Never could be too careful.

True to her word, Heather had tipped extra generously, and the cab had taken off as soon as she was out of the backseat.

She glanced down the Drake's long driveway to where their modern estate could be seen peaking out between the tall trees and frowned distastefully. Shaking off her feelings towards Tim's parents, she settled into a fast walk and headed towards Wayne Mansion in the thinning rain.

By the time she reached the front gates, the rain was just mist that was slowly being burned off by the morning sun, and she was soaked to the bone. Wiping water off her face, she buzzed the intercom and hoped Alfred wouldn't be mad at her for the early morning call.

"Wayne Residence, may I help you?" His British accent came through the intercom sounding slightly tinny.

"Good morning, I need to speak to Dick Grayson or Bruce Wayne. It's Heather Reilly."

There was a long pause, too long. "Do you have an appointment?"

Heather frowned. "No, not exactly. Listen, I know it's early, but I really need to talk to Dick or Mr. Wayne."

"Master Wayne is a very busy man, young lady," Alfred began, in a clearly dismissive voice.

"Wait, please! It's..." she frowned harder, brow furrowing as an uneasy feeling filled her gut. "It's Heather, Mr. Pennysworth. You know, Heather? Dick's friend? We've... I mean, don't you know who I am?"

"I'm afraid your name is not familiar to me, and young Master Dick no longer resides here at the manor. Good day, young lady." The intercom clicked off and Heather stood blinking at it for several seconds.

"What the actual fuck?" She finally muttered.

Alfred Pennyworth did not know who she was. He had dismissed her with the same polite but frosty way she'd seen him dismiss hopeful gold diggers who hung off of Bruce at parties. As her brain processed this information, something else occurred to her as well.

Vibe. He had said something just before he disappeared. That their earth was too hero-happy. Their earth. As if there was more than one.

"Well, shit," Heather sighed sharply, rubbing at a pounding headache that was beginning to build behind her eyes.

Apparently, Vibe wasn't just a teleporter like her fiance, and perhaps their assessment of him as a c-lister villain was a bit hasty. Because apparently the sucker could warp not just around the world, but also apparently around the freaking multiverse?! And Heather, dumbass extraordinaire, had followed him to a parallel universe. Which meant that the only way she was ever going to get home was to find the bastard again, and there was no way she'd be able to do that on her own.

Fourth question, how?

Heather felt significantly more guilty sneaking onto the Wayne Manor estate than she had breaking into the department store.

She hoped that her Dick and Bruce - if she ever saw them again - would understand that she hadn't meant to memorize the defenses around the estate. Really, it was more Bruce's fault than hers.

She'd spent so much time working for the man, digging through the batcomputer's files and doing the menial grunt work to help hone her skills, that of course at some point she'd gotten bored and started studying the layout of the grounds and where all the motion detectors were hidden. She was only human... well, kind of. Sort of. Not important right now.

She didn't know for certain that this version of Bruce Wayne would use the same layout for his home's defenses. Hell, she wasn't even certain that this version had even become Batman. Maybe the man actually was a clueless socialite in this universe. But Heather had a gut feeling that she couldn't shake.

Like, sure, maybe there were universes out there where that was true. But... could there really be a universe where Bruce Wayne had never become Batman, and yet he'd still taken in Dick, who then would coincidentally also have a falling out with the man and move to Bludhaven? The whole reason her Dick had moved to that awful city was to establish himself as Nightwing.

Heather knew she was holding onto a thin string of hope here. But if she was wrong, she might never make it back home, and that possibility was too terrifying to even consider.

Her universe had found multiple ways to kick her in the teeth and drag her down, over and over again. Yet, that universe was her home, and she was still standing. She'd gotten back up each time with the help of her family and friends. She would figure this out, and she would come home to them.

There wasn't an option for failure.

By the time she was standing in front of the massive doors of the manor, her shoulder and ankle were starting to throb in time with her heartbeat. The sun had burned off the remaining rain and she estimated it was closer to six or seven am now. Despite knowing she looked like a drowned rat, Heather attempted to have some dignity as she straightened her clothes, pushed back her slick hair, and reached up to knock.

"I'll get it, Alfred," She heard a young male voice on the other side of the door, and she had just enough time to think Tim when a seventeen year old boy with dark hair opened the door.

Heather blinked. This... was not her Tim. Her Tim was still thirteen and only recently reached her shoulder in height. Yet, the haircut, the blue eyes, the sharp features, all of it definitely screamed Tim Drake.

The boy frowned at her. "Can I help you?"

"Uh," Heather floundered for a second, unsure. She hadn't anticipated speaking to anyone other than Alfred, Dick or Bruce. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's um, it's been a rough night. My name is Heather Reilly. You're Tim, right? I'm a friend of Dick Grayson's, and I really need his help."

"You again?" Alfred was suddenly behind Tim, wearing the most severe frown she'd ever seen on the man.

It immediately made her step back a half pace and her shoulders hunch. No one, not even her own parents, could make Heather feel like a small naughty child the way Mr. Pennyworth could. There was a reason even Batman deferred to him. "I was quite firm young lady. How did you manage to get past the front gate?"

Translation: How did you avoid all of Batman's security? Heather thought, but of course they wouldn't know that she knew about any of that.

"Please, Mr. Pennyworth, if you just let me explain the situation," Heather began, trying not to wither under his stony stare.

"How do you know Dick?" Tim interrupted. He looked just as suspicious as Alfred, but there was something else in his stare, curiosity or something like it. Tim, like Bruce, was a detective and Heather could tell she'd piqued his interest.

"Dick and I are old friends," She said quickly, latching onto Tim's interest like a lifeline. "We met when we were teenagers. We, uh, had a lot in common. Listen, if Dick isn't here could I at least use your phone? I lost mine, and if I can't talk to Dick, then I need to try and call another friend."

"Are you in trouble?" Alfred asked, looking a modicum less severe than before.

"Very much so, sir,'' Heather nodded, shifting her weight only to wince as she placed too much onto her bad ankle. "Shit," she hissed, unable to keep the curse in.

"What happened?" Tim asked, opening the door wider.

"I... fell," She said lamely, scratching the back of her neck. How could she explain that it was from a height of several stories? Oh, right, she couldn't. "Twisted my ankle. It's fine, I'm a fast healer."

Tim and Alfred exchanged a long look, and only years of working with the bats helped her parse out its full meaning. They didn't trust her, clearly. They thought she might even be lying, but they weren't going to leave someone soaking wet and obviously injured outside on their doorstep.

Alfred hummed, still displeased, "You may use the phone in the library, follow me. Master Tim, would you please bring me the first aid kit?"

"Sure, Alfie," Tim sent one more scrutinizing stare her way before disappearing into what she knew was a supply closet.

She followed the butler into the library, wincing as she dripped rainwater onto the expensive rugs. He led her to an antique secretary desk with a rotary phone on it, because apparently in every universe Bruce Wayne was that kind of old money rich, and insisted she sit down on the oak desk chair. Tim reappeared shortly, carrying both a first aid kit and a towel, the latter of which Heather took gratefully as she sat her plastic bag full of gear onto the floor.

Heather carefully squeezed water out of her hair, mindful of her shoulder as Alfred looked through the kit. "If you would remove your boot, Miss Reilly, I will check your ankle."

"Oh, I mean, you don't have to-" Heather began, the towel now draped over her shoulders.

"I insist," Alfred said firmly but not unkindly.

"You might as well let him look," Tim said with a chuckle. He was leaning against one of the many floor to ceiling bookcases. "He won't take no for an answer."

"Right, I knew that," Heather muttered, shaking her head. She missed the puzzled frowns Tim and Alfred shared as she reached down and started unlacing her combat boots.

Spider-Man and her father preferred their costumes with matching boots and gloves, the web design visible from top to bottom. But she'd long ago chosen steel toed black boots and fingerless black leather gloves for herself. She liked that it made the uniform her own, along with a modified version of her father's blue hoodie - cropped, slightly darker in hue, and made of a resilient Kevlar. The Scarlet Spider silhouette was still recognizable as the one Ben Reilly once wore, but she'd made it hers, and she knew her dad would have approved.

She got the boot off and peeled off her wet sock, hissing as the fabric stuck around the swollen ankle joint before finally coming free. Of course, it was the ankle she'd broken previously, that was just her luck.

"Okay, it's a little worse than I thought," she admitted quietly as Alfred examined the injury.

"You seemed pretty confident it was just a sprain," Tim observed casually.

Bruce hasn't taught him all his tricks yet, Heather thought as she considered how to answer Tim's obviously prying question. "Not the first time," she said as she watched Alfred pull out a roll of bandages. "I'm clumsy."

Before Tim could form his next question, a voice called out, "Drake? Pennyworth?" This was followed shortly by a boy, maybe fourteen years old, coming into the library. He was also dark haired, but much tanner than Tim and his eyes were brown. There was something oddly familiar about the kid that Heather couldn't put her finger on.

"Who is this?" The boy demanded.

"Manners, Master Damian," Alfred chided him as he finished wrapping Heather's ankle. "It's best you remove your other boot as well, Miss, to give them a chance to dry out."

Heather nodded, "right, thank you, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Damian, this is Heather. She says she's a friend of Dick's," Tim explained.

"Richard has never mentioned you," Damian said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He spoke with the slightest accent, something Middle Eastern that Heather couldn't pin down, and the more she looked at his face the more she was sure she knew him from somewhere.

"We're, uh, very old friends," Heather explained awkwardly. "We haven't seen each other in a long time." Or ever, in this universe's case.

"Tt," Damian scoffed, sharing glances with Alfred and Tim. He wasn't even attempting to hide how suspicious he thought she was. It was sort of refreshing. "Richard isn't home. He's running errands with Father."

Now Heather was narrowing her eyes, her head tilting to the side as a memory came to her. Of a painting that hung in her universe's version of Wayne Manor featuring Thomas and Martha Wayne posing with their young son. Bruce was solemn, even as a child, and Damian had the same set to his jaw.

"Oh my god," she breathed as it clicked, suddenly standing as she pointed at the boy. "You're Bruce's kid. Like, his bio kid, aren't you?"

The others gave her various confused reactions. Alfred raised one eyebrow, Tim frowned, and Damian crossed his arms haughtily.

"Of course, I am," the younger boy snapped, like he thought Heather was an idiot. Which was fair. She kind of was most days, even she could admit that. "How do you not know who I am?"

"I -" She dropped her arm and rubbed her neck. "Right, yeah, that's an excellent question." She sighed. "Okay, truthfully? I am friends with Dick, but... not your Dick?" They frowned at her, and she couldn't blame them.

"Look, I'm going to level with you. I'm not from this universe. I work with Dick on my earth with a team of heroes. We were fighting this guy - Vibe? I did something monumentally stupid, and I ended up here. I didn't realize until I was already talking with Alfred that I was even in the wrong universe because my Alfred has known me for years. I worked with Batman for a while when I was a teenager, back when Dick was still Robin, and-"

"What are you talking about?" Tim interrupted her nervous ramblings. "Why do you think we know anything about Batman?" He added angrily. Damian looked ready to commit murder, and Alfred had disappeared at some point.

Heather groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, let's just cut past the song and dance, okay? I know all about Bruce, I have for years. In my universe, he gave me almost full access to the batcomputer's files. I trained with Robin in the batcave. I know about the entrance behind the grandfather clock in Bruce's study-"

Heather realized a few beats too late that was probably not the best way to break the news.

Damian was suddenly in her face with a knife at her throat pulled from seemingly nowhere. She reacted instinctively, grabbing the boy's wrist, twisting it down until he dropped the dagger. She pushed him into Tim, who'd been pulling out his collapsible bo staff. She'd turned with the intention of escaping through the library's other exit, but only made it a few strides when the sound of a shotgun being loaded stopped her dead in her tracks.

Right, that would be Alfred, she thought numbly, lifting her hands up as high as her injured shoulder would allow before dropping to her knees.

"Do not move," Alfred ordered.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"How did you disarm me so easily?" Damian demanded, stomping around to glare at her.

Heather gave him a small smile, which only made him angrier. "You remind me of my sister," she said instead of answering.

"I don't know what your game is," Tim told her, "but we're not playing. What do want with Dick?"

"First, poor word choice," Heather smirked at him over her shoulder. He glared back at her flatly, and she rolled her eyes. "My Tim has a much better sense of humor. I already told you exactly why I'm here. I'm in the wrong universe, and I need Batman and Nightwing to help me get home."

"Why do you keep insisting my father is the Batman?" Damian asked.

Heather sighed. "Look, we could keep going around and around on this all day, but I don't have that kind of time. Either call up Dick and Bruce so we can discuss this like adults, or-"

"Or what?" Alfred asked, suddenly reminding her there was a very protective butler with a gun pointed at her.

Heather pursed her lips, considering. "Why don't you take me down to the cave? You guys probably have a holding cell like my Batman does. You can keep me under lock and key until I can convince you I'm telling the truth, or until you can get someone from the League to come down who can wipe my memory if I can't."

"Or we could take you to Arkham Aslyum now," Damian suggested.

Heather took a deep breath, trying to be patient. Not like it could hold me. "It's up to you," she finally said.

Damian walked behind her so the three could share a whispered conference. Heather tried very hard not to hear them by humming under her breath, but it was a lost cause. Damian was coming up with some very creative forms of interrogation tactics, but was ultimately overruled by Tim and Alfred.

"Alright, let's go," Tim finally sighed. "Hands behind your back, and just keep in mind Alfred is a very good shot." She saw him pulling a pair of handcuffs from the corner of her eye.

"You're going to want to use something stronger than that," she told them mildly as Tim grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back. Tim hesitated for a moment, before Damian handed him something she couldn't see. She bit back a hiss of pain as they used what felt like metal cording from a grappel gun to bind her hands, then used the remaining cord to wrap around her arms and chest.

Better, she thought as Tim and Damian pulled her to her feet, but still not enough. Ah well, I'll let them have this one.

They blindfolded her before taking her to the batcave, maybe so they could still have plausible deniability. Heather let the boys lead her to the elevator, her spider-sense keeping her aware of Alfred's shotgun aimed at her chest. When the elevator stopped, her bare feet were treading the rock of the cave's floor as the boys prodded her along, her injured ankle really resenting the cold seeping into her bones. She couldn't surpress a small shiver, suddenly aware of her still soaking wet stolen clothes that were clinging to her.

"Relax, we're not going to hurt you," Tim murmured, misinterpreting her shudder.

"Unless you give us a reason too," Damian added, less meanly than he could have.

Huh, maybe the kid wasn't as blood thirsty as he seemed. I wonder who his mom is? I don't think it's Selina. He doesn't look anything like her. Heather pondered this little mystery until she heard a metal cage door opening and she was gently pushed inside the holding cell. Someone pulled off the blindfold before they locked her in. She blinked her eyes to help them adjust to the new lighting, taking in the somewhat familiar landscape around her.

"Good to know the giant penny and t-rex are consistent in every universe," Heather observed. "Still ridiculous, but consistent."

"Master Bruce and Master Dick are on their way," Alfred said, lowering the gun slightly but not putting it away.

Heather nodded. "I figured. So... bio kid, huh?" She added, conversationally.

Damian narrowed his eyes at her, but didn't reply.

"I totally see it now," Heather admitted, taking a seat on the cot in the cage. She brought her legs up to fold beneath her, trying to get comfortable. "I thought at first that Bruce's adoption habit was worse in this universe."

"What makes you think I'm adopted?" Tim asked, taking a seat on a stool he'd brought over.

Heather blinked in surprise. "Oh, my mistake, sorry. My Tim Drake is, so I guess I assumed."

"What happened to your Tim's parents?" Tim frowned, but there was something in his expression that Heather couldn't read.

Heather pursed her lips, considering how to explain. "They were very neglectful. At first, Bruce just had emergency custody of Tim while the state investigated why he was being left alone for long periods of time with only a maid checking on him. When they realized how shitty the Drakes were, that's when he put in the paperwork."

"So they're... still alive?" Tim asked in a much quieter voice.

Heather's heart stuttered painfully. "Oh... I'm so sorry."

Tim shook his head. "Not your fault," he said it like it was something he told people a lot, which only made Heather feel worse.

"I really am sorry. This world is so different from my own," Heather said, mostly to keep the conversation moving. She'd always hated awkward silence. "My Tim is younger, and I've never even met him before." She tilted her head towards Damian. "I mean, he might exist on my earth. Who's your mom?"

Damian tutted again, which she was beginning to suspect was a habit. "Not that its any of your business, but my mother's name is Talia Al Ghul."

Heather blinked and sat forward. "I'm sorry - the daughter of the Demon's Head is your mom? One of the most dangerous women in the world, and the next leader of the League of Assasins?"

Damian gave her a haughty nod. "I see my mother's reputation precedes her even in another universe."

"Okay, mental note," Heather muttered. "Interrogate Bruce when I get home to make sure he actually knows how condoms work."

Tim let out an involuntary snort and Damian's pride disappated back into disdain as he muttered something in Arabic that she was sure was unflattering.

"Alrighty, anyway," She sighed. "I'm assuming you have questions you want me to answer?"

"I am not sure what we could ask you that could prove your worthiness," Damian snapped. "You are a stranger to us."

Tim nodded reluctantly. "I've never heard Dick mention anyone like you." He picked up the plastic bag they must have brought from upstairs that had her gear in it, pulling out her mask and frowning at it. "What's with the spider webs?"

"On my earth, I'm called the Scarlet Spider," Heather explained, waiting for any hint of recognition on his face, but nothing came. "You know, ally of Spider-Man? Friend of the Avengers?"

"Who?" Damian asked.

"Whoa, okay, I didn't think our earths were that different," Heather shook her head. "Wait, if Spider-Man and the Avengers don't exist in this world, does the Justice League exist?"

"Of course," Tim and Damian answered almost in unison, then glared at each other in annoyance.

"That's a relief. So the team must exist too," Heather said, only to receive another frown.

"You mean the Teen Titans?" Tim clarified.

"No...? I mean the team. We work for the Justice League? But, like, covertly. We handle missions that the League doesn't want a lot of attention on, but that still needs a lot of skill." Heather explained, "There's me, Nightwing, Superboy, Miss Martian, Robin, Batgirl, Bumblebee, Beast Boy-"

"I only recognize some of those names," Tim admitted.

"Weird," Heather muttered.

"This is a waste of time," Damian exclaimed, "She's clearly lying, Drake, we should take care of her before she can reveal our identities to anyone."

"Let's pump the breaks on the murder, alright Shortstack?" Heather couldn't help but snap. "Does your Batman actually kill? Because that's seriously messed up."

"He does not," Alfred confirmed, giving Damian a reprimanding glare.

Damian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, muttering to himself. Tim and Alfred couldn't hear it, but Heather could perfectly. "This never would happen with Mother and Grandfather."

Tim's phone suddenly chimed at the same moment Heather heard tires crunching on the gravel outside the manor. "I'm guessing Bruce is here?" She asked Tim as he checked his phone.

"How did you-?"

"Lucky guess," Heather deflected.

Alfred finally lowered his gun and left, presumably to meet his employer and pseudo son at the door. Damian seemed to take this as an invitation to take out another dagger from some pocket and begin fiddling with it. Heather guessed this was his way of intimidating her, or it could have been a nervous habit. She didn't have the heart to tell him it was more cute than anything else.

The kid looked like he'd barely hit puberty. He reminded her of her own little brother and sister, which just made her homesick. She wanted to pull her phone out, just so she could see her photos and reassure herself that they were still out there, waiting for her, but she stopped herself from snapping her restraints. She needed this world's Batman to trust her, or she'd never get home.

"I'm assuming you're a meta human?" Tim asked her after he finished sending another text. He put his phone in his pocket so he could focus his attention on her fully.

"In a sense," Heather said reluctantly. "It's complicated."

"I have a friend who's the daughter of a demon, try me," Tim challenged.

"It's not that I'm refusing to answer the question, it's just seriously complicated," She explained. "Does this world have stable cloning technology?"

"Are you somebody's clone?"

"No- well, yes and no," She shook her head when he gave her an exasperated sigh. "Complicated! Ugh, okay, so my story starts way before I was born. On my earth there's a hero called Spider-Man. He was a regular guy who was bitten by a radioactive spider, giving him super powers."

"Usually when someone has a backstory like that, they turn to a life of crime, at least in my experience," Tim commented.

"Yeah, well, he didn't. I mean, he used his powers to win money in wrestling matches at first," Heather admitted, rolling her eyes. "He was young and dumb, don't worry about it - not important. The important thing is years later, Spider-Man gets a new rogue who called himself Jackal. The guy was crazy, but brilliant."

"We are familiar with the type," Damian commented quietly.

Heather snorted. "Trust me, I know, but unfortunately he was way less Nygma and his puzzles, and more like Crane with unethical experimentation. The guy manages to clone Spider-Man, except - plot twist - Spider-Man suddenly has a case of amnesia and he and the clone can't remember which of them is the real deal."

Tim whistled, "complicated."

"Oh trust me, tip of the iceberg," Heather complained, shaking her head. "I'll skip forward, or we'll be here for hours. The clone, he went by the name Scarlet Spider, eventually comes to a truce with Spider-Man and they become allies. In the meantime, Scarlet Spider and the woman who was once Spider-Man's fiance fall in love. Eventually, they have a kid." She shrugged as much as her restraints allowed her to.

"That was you," Damian guessed.

"Yep," Heather nodded. "Again, I'm going to skip forward for brevity's sake. I developed powers as I aged, but then suddenly one day my body freaks the fuck out. My DNA wasn't completely stable, being half human and half - er, clone slash radioactive meta slash freak lab accident." She sighed. Sometimes she couldn't believe this was her life. "My body mutated."

"It didn't kill you?" Tim asks, surprised.

"It almost did," she admits quietly. "Spider-Man saved my life. I was only nineteen."

"How old are you now?" Damian asked, almost politely.

"Almost twenty-four," Heather smiled. "My fiance, Kurt, is trying to plan a surprise party for me with my Dick Grayson's help. They're not succeeding, but it's adorable to watch so I'm letting it go for now."

"You weren't lying when you said you were close with him, were you?" Tim said, almost sounding like he was talking to himself.

"Robin was always one of my biggest heroes," Heather admitted. "When we finally met, he became one of my closest friends. He's practically my brother."

"That's why you were sure he would help you," Damian concluded.

"He's my best shot," Heather admitted as Bruce finally stepped into the cave, Dick right behind, followed by an Asian woman with short dark hair, and finally an African American teen about Tim's age.

Heather tilted her head at the woman and teen in confusion. The woman only smiled mildly and waved, while the teen mirrored her frown. Well, that's definitely new. Maybe this Bruce does have more of an adoption problem than mine.

"You got my message?" Tim asked.

"Yes. We've been watching the security cameras," Bruce muttered, eying Heather like she was one of the Riddler's newest puzzles. Which, ow.

"Hello," Heather said, giving a cheery smile despite the increase in suspicious eyes on her. "I'd get up to greet you, but..."

"Oh, this one has jokes," Dick said, coming to gently take Damian's dagger away. "That's refreshing. Last time we got someone from a parallel universe, they weren't any fun. Remember Bruce? The Stephanie doppelganger?"

"Dick," Bruce reprimanded before his eldest could go off on a tangent.

"Oh yeah, no, that one was no fun," Tim agreed, ignoring Bruce’s sigh. "This one says she's known you since you were Robin."

"Hey, I have!" Heather protested. "C'mon, we were all getting along so well. I mean, aside from the stabby child over there... but I have a feeling he's like that with most people?"

"We're trying to break him of the habit," Dick commented dryly.

"Did Damian stab her?" The black teen asked.

"Not quite," Tim shrugged. "She's fast."

"Aw, thanks Tim" Heather beamed. "That's like the nicest thing you've said to me all day. When I get home, I'll be sure to tell my Tim you were nice. Even if you do need to lighten up a little."

"What makes you think you're going anywhere?" Dick asked, but Heather couldn't hear any real threat in the words. She had a feeling this Dick had just as big of a heart as her world's.

"Look, obviously me being here is upsetting for multiple reasons. You guys love your privacy, and you hate having someone around who compromises that, I get it. Not to mention, it's probably not a good idea for someone from the wrong multiverse to stay here long term. I mean, I'm a biochemist not a theoretical physicist, but I'm assuming it's probably bad," Heather shrugged as much as her bonds allowed. "So, the way I see it is, you help me get back home, and we're all happy in the end. Right?"

"How can we trust that you're telling the truth?" Tim asked again, but she could tell Bruce was thinking it over.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Timmy," Heather told him honestly. "I mean, I could sit here all day telling you things that are true of my universe? Like, I know that Dick’s first pet was Zitka, the circus elephant. I know that my Tim basically blackmailed Batman into making him Robin. I know that my Alfred never uses cloves in his cooking because Bruce is allegic, which is why he never drinks the eggnog at the Justice League's Christmas party. Is any of that true in this universe? I don't have a clue. What I do know for certain is that you all are my only shot of getting home. If you won't help me..."

Heather swallowed, staring at nothing as the despair of that possibility hit her full force. "I'll never see my family again, and Kurt will never know what happened to me. Please, I'm begging here, help me get home."

Bruce crossed his arms and looked at the Asian woman that hadn't said a word so far. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, a little younger than this world's Dick. Heather had tried not to let it bother her, but the younger woman had been watching her intently the whole time they'd been talking. Heather couldn't help feeling like she was missing something as she watched the woman turn to Bruce and smile.

"Not lying. I trust her," She finally said.

The words were stilted in a way that normally Heather would associate with learning a new language, but the woman had a distinct Gotham accent. It almost reminded Heather of how her little sister used to talk when she'd started speech therapy, like the woman wasn't sure how to put her thoughts into spoken words.

"Okay, as much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, I have to ask - who are they?" Heather asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"You don't have a Cassandra Cain or Duke Thomas in your world?" Dick asked.

Heather shook her head, "Doesn't ring a bell, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. Like I was saying earlier, my timeline seems a little skewed from this one. My Tim is younger, and as far as I know, my Bruce doesn't have a bio kid. It's just Dick, Tim, Babs and me around."

"What about Jason Todd?" Bruce asked quietly, and if she hadn't known another version of this man so well she might not have heard his trepidation for the answer.

"That's... I mean..." Heather blew out a somber breath. "Jason was murdered by the Joker," she admitted reluctantly. Every face in the room fell, but there was an air of recognition to the grief. Clearly, the same fate had befallen their Jason as well.

Heather continued after a moment, "That was a few years ago. Recently, he, well... came back. Things are still a little delicate, so he's been staying with me and Kurt for the time being."

"Why isn't he home with us?" Dick asked.

Heather grimaced. "You have to understand, he wasn't in his right mind. He - well, he attacked our Tim and hurt him pretty badly. They're both doing better, but Jason hasn't forgiven himself and still has things to work through, and Tim needs time to recover mentally and emotionally. We're giving them both space until if and when they're ready to be in the same room."

"Wow, what a concept," Tim deadpanned, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Bruce and Dick looked uncomfortable. Heather narrowed her eyes but decided not to ask. Not her circus, not her monkeys. She could only do so much for the Wayne family in her own universe; she couldn't possibly fix an entirely different one as well. Especially when she didn't have the complete picture.

"Ya know, I kind of wish we had a version of her," Duke spoke up. "That's like the most level headed decision I've heard from someone in this family in... no, scratch that, ever."

"Don't give me too much credit," Heather smiled, but it was self-derogatory. "I've had my fair share of screw ups, too. Sometimes, you just need an outside perspective." She sighed, wishing she could rub her eyes. "Look, I get that this is a lot to ask, but I have to track down Vibe before he disappears from this world, too. I can stay right here if it makes you all feel better, but I need help finding his tachyon signature so I can catch him and make him take us home. The batcomputer is my best chance."

"Quick question," Dick lifted a hand, frowning at her. "What do you mean by 'make us feel better'?"

Heather clicked her tongue and stood up, walking to the far wall of the cage, opposite the door. She flexed her muscles, snapping the metal grappeling cord like it was dental floss. As the cord fell into a pile on the floor, she reached forward and using two fingers on each hand, bent two of the steel bars towards each other into an 'x'. She stepped back from the cage wall and put her hands behind her back, shrugging sheepishly.

"You could escape at any time, couldn't you?" Duke guessed.

Heather nodded, chewing her cheek.

"You could have broken in here without alerting anyone, gotten what you wanted, and left without a trace," Tim added. "Just like how you got passed all of the security on the grounds."

"Well, I don't know about completely leaving without a trace," Heather hedged, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm not Kurt, I can't teleport, and I don't have invisibility either."

"Hn, perhaps you could explain your powers to us in detail while we start searching for your missing rogue," Bruce said.

She didn't know this Bruce or what had happened in his life to alter it from the man she did know, but she could hear the world's greatest detective in his voice and it made the anxiety in her chest melt. They weren't going to abandon her, they were going to help.

The only question left, was when?

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jeevesreads · 1 year

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15 Great Single Mom Romance Novels

Single dad romance books get most of the love, but is there anything more heart-melting and adorable than a commitment-phobic hero becoming part of a family? Whether it’s a charming playboy falling for a woman AND her kids, a grumpy hero becoming fiercely protective of the family he’d love to call his own, or an everyday guy who is immediately accepting, there are so many scenarios where single…

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popentertainment-moviereviews · 3 months

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LISA FRANKENSTEIN (2024)

Starring Kathryn Newton, Cole Sprouse, Liza Soberano, Henry Eikenberry, Joe Chrest, Carla Gugino, Jenna Davis, Trina LaFargue, Paola Andino, Joshua Montes, Chris Greening, Mae Anglim, Joey Bree Harris, Henry Eikenberry, Jennifer Pierce Mathus, Luke Sexton, Ayla Diane Miller, Jailyn Rae, Bryce Romero, Ashton Leigh, Charlie Talbert and Ray Gaspard.

Screenplay by Diablo Cody.

Directed by Zelda Williams.

Distributed by Focus Features. 101 minutes. Rated PG-13.

Screenwriter Diablo Cody has always had one of the sharpest minds for hip female storytelling and wickedly funny dialogue. Since she broke through with the Oscar-nominated 2006 film Juno, she has shared some of the most quirkily fun and yet often surprisingly dark women’s stories in Hollywood, including her series The United States of Tara, the criminally under-appreciated classic Young Adult, the aging rock goddess film Ricki and the Flash (Jonathan Demme’s final film) and even writing the book of the hit Broadway musical Jagged Little Pill, based on the music of Alanis Morissette.

So, Cody is mostly remembered for her slightly offbeat looks at the real lives of women. Still, even with her feet on the ground, Cody has always had a bit of a soft spot for the horror genre, as well, as you might pick up from her pen name. (Although the writer, whose real name is Brook Busey Maurio, insists the pen name came from merging the song “El Diablo” by old Duran Duran side-project Arcadia, and a town where she once got a speeding ticket called Cody, Wyoming.)

In 2009, hot on the heels of her breakouts with Juno and The United States of Tara, she penned a comic horror film called Jennifer’s Body, with Megan Fox as a demonically possessed killer cheerleader. The film opened to terrible reviews and box office, although over the 15 years since it was released Jennifer’s Body has gotten something of a cult following. She has not really worked on horror again since then unless you count the uncredited script doctoring which she did for the 2013 reboot of The Evil Dead.

That is until now. As you may guess from the title, the film is a very loose variation of the Frankenstein saga. (For the record, in the film the main character is not related to the original family and is not named Lisa Frankenstein but has the rather unfortunate name of Lisa Swallows.) Of course, there are lots of other very obvious influences touched upon as well, including Edward Scissorhands, Heathers, The Breakfast Club and even She’s All That.

Lisa (Kathryn Newton of The Map of Tiny Perfect Things) is a very, very disillusioned goth student in the mid-1980s. Her mental problems stem from her childhood when she witnessed her mother being stabbed to death in a home invasion – one that was never solved. Now her dad (Joe Chrest) has married a hellish evil stepmother (Carla Gugino), and they live with her and her new gorgeous, popular cheerleader stepsister Taffy (Liza Soberano). In one example of how Cody likes to toy with the audience’s expectations, Taffy is not a complete bitch to this new girl who is living in her house. Instead Taffy is very loving, nurturing and protective of Lisa.

Lisa really has no friends other than Taffy – although Taffy keeps trying to include her in activities to help her get to know people. Her hair is an unbrushed rat’s nest, she wears way too much black makeup and formless unflattering clothes. (Although, as is normal in this kind of teen film, all she really needs to do is fix her hair, get a makeup lesson, borrow some of Taffy’s sexier outfits and take off her glasses and suddenly she is absolutely gorgeous.)

The fact that she really doesn’t fit in is not helped by the fact that she often spends time in an abandoned and overgrown graveyard in the woods. She claims she enjoys the quiet, but she also likes being with the memories of the dead. In particular, she is fascinated by an elaborate headstone for a young pianist who died in the 1830s – which includes a full bust of the deceased.

One night, after a particularly uncomfortable party, in which she was dosed with drugs, Lisa goes to the graveyard in dismay. Somehow, due to a misunderstood wish, a torrential storm, and the graveyard’s apparent magical properties, Lisa somehow brings the corpse of a 150-year-dead musician back to life, although the worse for wear after over a century buried, filthy and missing several body parts. (Don’t even try to figure out the how and why of anything supernatural that happens in this film, none of it really will make sense.)

Cole Sprouse (of Riverdale) plays the creature. As with anyone playing the monster (or just a monster), Sprouse has a tricky role. He is only able to express himself through a series of grunts, gestures and glances through most of the film. (Only in the final scene, which may or may not be a dream sequence, he is able to speak.)

The creature is supposed to be a sweet, sensitive sort, but he also has a homicidal streak when he gets angry. He and Lisa start a killing spree to replace some of his lost body parts (again, how this works makes no sense at all, but you either buy in or you don’t).

And while the story made no sense whatsoever, I kind of bought in because the script was consistently funny enough that I overlooked many of Lisa Frankenstein’s flaws. Stylishly directed by Zelda Williams (Robin’s daughter) and well-acted – particularly by Newton and Soberano – it’s far from a great movie, but I have to admit I mostly liked it. It’s certainly different.

Jay S. Jacobs

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#Lisa Frankenstein #2024 #Movie Reviews #Kathryn Newton #Jay S. Jacobs #Youtube

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solitaireinfoacc · 3 months

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☆.. ﾉ tv shows

☆.. ﾉ a series of unfortunate events

★ klaus baudelaire

☆.. ﾉ amphibia

★ bee boonchuy

★ ivy sundew

★ jenni

★ maddie flour “fern”

★ marcy wu "mars"

★ polly plantar

★ terry "castor"

☆.. ﾉ big city greens

★ tilly green

☆.. ﾉ bluey

★ bingo heeler

☆.. ﾉ castle

★ alexis castle

★ kevin ryan

☆.. ﾉ friends

★ monica geller

☆.. ﾉ gravity falls

★ bill cipher

★ lauren corduroy (OC)

★ mabel pines

☆.. ﾉ hazbin hotel

★ angel dust

★ charlie morningstar

★ niffty

☆.. ﾉ helluva boss

★ bee-lzebub

★ fizzarolli

★ moxxie

★ octavia goetia

☆.. ﾉ high school musical: the musical: the series

★ carlos rodriguez

★ gina porter

★ seb matthew-smith

☆.. ﾉ i am not okay with this

★ stanley barber

★ sydney novak “rae”

☆.. ﾉ jessie / bunk’d

★ emma ross

★ griff jones

★ ravi ross

☆.. ﾉ miraculous ladybug

★ adrien agreste

★ alya cesaire

★ april monelle (OC)

★ duusu

★ feuille (human tikki)

★ juleka couffaine

★ kagami tsurugi

★ lila rossi

★ nathaniel kurtzberg

★ sabrina raincomprix

★ sass

★ zoe lee

☆.. ﾉ shameless

★ fiona gallagher

★ ian gallagher

★ karen jackson

★ lip gallagher

★ mandy milkovich

☆.. ﾉ star vs. the forces of evil

★ hekapoo

★ star butterfly

☆.. ﾉ stranger things

★ alice creel

★ argyle

★ dustin henderson

★ eddie munson

★ eight prasad

★ eleven hopper

★ fred benson

★ max mayfield

★ nancy wheeler

★ robin buckley

★ ten / 010

★ will byers

☆.. ﾉ teen titans

★ beast boy

☆.. ﾉ the amazing race

★ aparna dhinakaran

★ james wallington

★ michelle newland

★ natalia kumar

★ raquel moore

☆.. ﾉ the amazing world of gumball

★ darwin watterson

☆.. ﾉ the amazing digital circus

★ jax

★ pomni

☆.. ﾉ the loud house

★ lucy loud

☆.. ﾉ the owl house

★ emira blight

★ hunter

★ king clawthorne

★ lilith clawthorne

★ luz noceda

★ matt tholomule

★ raine whispers

★ the collector “star”

★ vee noceda

★ willow park

☆.. ﾉ the umbrella academy

★ allison hargreeves

★ diego hargreeves

★ five hargreeves

★ harlan cooper (young)

★ klaus hargreeves

☆.. ﾉ total drama

★ blaineley o’halloran

★ brick mcarthur

★ carrie

★ cody emmett jameson anderson

★ courtney

★ crimson

★ dawn

★ ella

★ harold mcgrady

★ heather

★ izzy

★ jacques

★ katie

★ kitty

★ miles “spring”

★ sammy

★ scarlett

★ spud

★ zoey

☆.. ﾉ victorious

★ jade harley

☆.. ﾉ wednesday

★ divina

★ enid sinclair

★ eugene ottinger

★ rowan laslow

★ tyler galpin

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koishua · 1 year

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⟡ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟐𝟏𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 ─── park jay

synopsis ─── at seven years old, heather brown finds a friend in jay jeongseong park. at ten years old, she realizes that she found a lifelong partner in him. at eighteen years old, she wishes that she had told him she loved him for the first and last time (she does not—could not, of anything— and it's all because she can't live a life without daniel yeonjun choi).

starring ─── daniel yeonjun choi. heather nabeom brown, a female original character. jay jeongseong park. additionally, beomgyu choi, sunghoon park and heeseung lee.

genre ─── angst, childhood best friends to almost lovers, drama, hurt/comfort.

length ─── 10,019k words (part one)

warnings ─── mentions of hospitals, illnesses and death, some minor scenes depicting familial issues.

author's note ─── (heads up not edited whatsoever we die like newt.) damn. this has been brewing in my docs for exactly two years and i have rewritten it countless times and waz unsatisfied each time and couldn't finish it. im sort of very tired of it just sitting there, so here i am, posting this in a few installments so maybe i can get the motivation to finish depending on your reactions haha. make note that although the romance is still there, it's not as prevalent as the pure bond between the three protagonists. i have so many feelings bottled up in my wee lil heart for this fic because heather, jay and daniel are my babies and i love their bonds so much and i have so so much planned so yeah i hope y'all enjoyed what i have so far and we'll see. maybe you can read the second part next spring lolol. also heather and her thought processes are totally me lol

taglist no. one ─── @junityy @jeonqquk @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @i-luvsang @rae-blogging @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @mark-lees-world @99outros @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @sooblvr @whoe-dis @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @bigsobforskz @soobin-chois @jaysbestie @ni-kiii @jungwonerz @sunoosbestie @95sjcc @ja4hyvn @ant-ton-ya @stealanity @pshflrts @norifilms @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @mosviqu @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @lebrookestore

reblogs and feedback are super appreciated y'all !!

“Hello! My name is Jeongseong Park, but you can call me Jay!” she blinked twice, clutching the hems of the older woman’s skirt. The short-statured younger boy leaned to its side, his head tilting curiously. “Is she shy?”

She chuckled, affectionately running her fingers through her daughter’s soft locks of light hair— well, lighter than his, at least. “She really isn’t most of the time, dear. Maybe she just doesn’t feel well right now.”

She held the chubby hands that tighten around the fabric on her waist, crouching down to the little girl’s height. Her frown seemed evident by the way her brows narrow, big and bright eyes hesitant on meeting her mother. “Come on, Heather. Don’t you think that it’s a little rude to not greet the young man?”

“I don’t want to.” She had a higher voice than Jay was used to, but that was only because he had been hanging around older people all the time, excluding the other boys his teacher had introduced him to in his new class last month. He took slight offense to that statement, however cool his outer kiddy demeanor covered it.

Without wasting a single moment, her mother beats him for a response. “You have to make friends, darling. Don’t you think he seems nice?”

The unintentional innocence that radiates off her peer takes Heather off guard. He did seem nice enough with his doe-like eyes focused on the tropical mix capri sun, struggling to poke through the plastic with his thin, orange straw. He seemed like he liked to feed pigeons with his bread even if he himself was hungry.

She liked that— he didn’t look like those older kids who always drew on the walls behind school. Heather hated those third graders with a passion, but Jay seemed nice enough. He didn’t wear those black ripped jeans and shirts and he didn’t sport their messy hair. All of those kids did and they were mean towards even the teachers.

She wondered if their clothes and style were the problem, but maybe that would be a little shallow of her. Daniel always told her not to judge anyone by their face, body or clothes, so she would always trust his judgement and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the clothes that made them seem rude.

Daniel was always right, he was probably the only person that told her that, though— he was the nicest person Heather knew of in her six years of life. He told her that she needed to be nice and accepting of everyone. He was older than her, almost ten years old. That was, in her mind, ancient enough to be considered as good as an adult like her mother and father.

She took in a deep breath, reluctantly letting the silk between her fingers go and came out into the open. “Fine,” she mutters underneath her breath. Daniel would be very proud of her, “My name’s Heather. I will be seven years old on the twenty-first of March. I hope we can be good friends.”

The young boy takes a look at her extended hand, thinking about how odd of an introduction this whole thing was. But he accepts the very formal shake of hand anyways, his smile lighting up the room within seconds. “I’ll be seven after you will, then! My birthday is in April.”

Nodding, she leaned back to inspect his attire. He had weird hair, she noticed. “You have weird hair.” Her mother gasped, “Little lady, that is not how you speak to people.” Though her mother reprimanded her, to which she took no caution to, she was a tad bit taken aback by the quiet snort that had escaped the odd boy’s lips just now.

“It’s okay, I hate it, too.” He did? “My dad thinks that all boys have to have this hair at least once in their life, so he made our hairdresser cut it this way. I like those hairs that they show on television, though! The ones where they cut it short until here and leave it long on top.”

Did he mean an undercut, Mrs. Brown scratched her head with wonder. She shook her head, accepting defeat and patted Heather’s shoulders. “I have to attend to my work, Heather, so why don’t you go off with Jay here and play with him a little bit until John’s father comes to pick you up for your music class later this afternoon?”

She didn't like John, nor did she like his father.

“But, I told you that I don’t like classical music. Do I still have to go?” She tugs at the hem of her mother’s crisp white blouse, an unhappy look etched onto her childish features. She supposed she didn’t look all that intimidating, but she liked to believe that she was either way, however intimidating her puffy cheeks and pigtails could be.

“Heather Brown, you will attend these classes for as long as we tell you to. You must grow up to be as refined as possible, understood? Don’t you think that it would be nice to be able to play the violin well? Look, even Jay here takes piano lessons! And I heard from his mother that he is an excellent student.” The six year-old gave the poor fellow a side glance, backtracking on her older thoughts for a moment.

Scratch that, maybe she did dislike him just a little bit now.

Resigning to her fate, she pulled away, “Okay, I’ll do it for you.” With a satisfied nod, the older woman took her silent leave and Heather watched as the tall doors click closed, leaving her alone with her new acquaintance in a large hall surrounded by glass windows, the bright twelve p.m. sun peeking through the thin grey sun blockers.

“My mom tells me that it’s always good for you to wear sunscreen,” Jay took notice of the way she seemed stuck on the way the beams of light escaped through the cracks. He pulls his miniature version of a duffel bag out of the large cupboard from the back of the office, navigating his way through the leather seats surrounding the oval oak table to accommodate for large meetings.

“Do you want some? I was told that you have to apply it every two hours.” You stare at the uncapped orange bottle, a tiny bit— pea sized, if she had to give it a relatively accurate description of the amount— of the creamy substance already on the back of his palm.

Why was their first conversation alone about the many effects of under-protection from the harmful rays of the sun, Heather never knew. Though he might have been a little odd, she supposed he wasn’t that bad of a kid. As far as she could see, he was just her mother’s husband’s friend’s son who had a knack for knowing the most random of knowledge that no six year old usually could know of— he also liked dancing, but she wasn’t about to tell him that she liked that small bit of fact.

Heather made her first friend the same age as her at seven years old. She didn’t like his haircut— and neither did he— but he was nice enough to let her draw stars on his cheeks with face paint on the first day he met her.

⟡

For her entire life, all Heather knew of were three things: she hated bullies, she hated music, and she hated the way Jay was having a growth spurt when she was stuck in the same height as before. She was ten years old now— mind you, she was older than him, however much a gap of a single month was worth— and she was now shorter than Jay Park.

“Are you not bored of always staying in this hole?” Heather whispered into his ear, mindful of her volume with all of the overbearing adults in the office. Although, to be fair, this ‘hole’ that she had been talking about was a 25 stories high corporal building made of expensive glass windows and tall ceilings adorned with chandeliers everywhere she looked if she craned her neck just a little— it was the furthest thing from being a mere hole that they had been stuck inside together for the past three years.

Jay nodded, “I asked my dad if we could just stay back at home, but he said no. He thinks that we will be in danger as soon as we are out of their direct sight, even if the staff are there to clean the house.” Being the only children of two business giants did come with its disadvantages, Heather could only cry in silence.

“Surely, they won’t notice if we go out to buy ice cream, right?” she nudged the pondering boy, urging him to respond. The mischief swimming inside those familiar brown eyes was an exciting thing to witness.

He glanced at the busy adults, all gathered to sit around a table for a long discussion. “We can go to the store next block and then run back here, how about that?” Heather muttered in a low tone, almost too quiet for him to pick it up, but he did.

“Fine, but if they notice and get angry, you’re the one who is responsible, okay?” Jay took her little block of rosin from the intricately made coffee table, storing the object away in her violin case, carefully clasping the two sides shut together to pick it up— when he had grown into the habit of carrying the large black container for her, he didn’t know for sure, but she always left the instrument behind, so it was up to him to tuck the bow and violin away securely, lest Mrs. Brown reprimanded her daughter for protesting against her music lesson again.

Slinking out of the adults’ way was easy of a task, you only had to be quiet and tuck yourself away behind the walls and just keep on moving before someone actually decided to check the odd moving shadows behind the long blinds. What was difficult, however, was pulling off a maneuver like escaping through the front entrance where security guards were always planted.

“Are you ready?” Heather wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking notice of how much wider they seemed to have gotten in the two years she had known him. She had stashed her case away in one of the empty offices on the fourth floor where all of the marketing workers were stationed.

The quiet stalking they had done from the twentieth floor all the way down to the first— all the while still going unnoticed by the hundreds of personnel frantically buzzing through the hallways like bees to their nests— had proven to be the most exhilarating part of this sneaking out ordeal.

She peeked a head through the small gap between the door and its frame, allowing Jay to slide a small head through the same gap as well— they looked like characters from cartoons, comically peering at something they shouldn't with heads stacked above each others’— only to speedily hide back inside the small closet filled with cleaning supplies after seeing her father’s secretary dashing their way with a phone held next to her ear.

Once they heard the click of her low heels fade away into silence, Heather turned the handle of the door to slide it open, gesturing at Jay to follow behind. “Look, Freddy is going away to get a drink now. Let’s make a run for it, quick.” Freddy, the tall and grand security personnel who looked similar to the Five Nights at Freddy’s animatronic bear that had given both of you a good amount of nightmares after deciding to play the game together during one of your many stays here in the company building.

Jay took a hold of her hand, fingers wrapped around her palm with a tight squeeze and they sprinted off towards the automatic sliding doors and bursting into the sunlight. A few onlookers took a brief glance at the two children panting as they rounded the corner of the building, hiding away in the comfort of the crowded sidewalks, the tall structure of the enterprise looming over their small bodies that sped through the roads of Washington D.C.

“That was wicked!” The taller one of the two eased them both into a jog, not noticing the fact that their hands were still intertwined, tightly wrapped around each other— neither did Heather, for that matter, too caught up in the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The cars honking at the ones in front of them did not bother the children at all, not when they were tasting the first bite of freedom they had ever gained. It was a hot summer day and middle school was about to start in a few weeks— dreadful, they knew.

The sad, sob-worthy trek back towards the building was to be expected not even ten minutes after their grand escapade. They had forgotten to bring money to buy their ice creams.

But everything was okay, though. They might not have gotten their cold treats, but their way back inside had gone by as silently as their adventure outside had been. No one had noticed a single thing, save for the one staff member monitoring the security cameras.

Heather had just finished fourth grade when she broke the rules with her best friend for the first time— it felt good. Jay was taller than her now, sure, but she still could put him in a chokehold if she wanted to and that was all that really mattered.

⟡

“Daniel?” The older boy hummed, looking up from his extremely important job that was meticulously peeling bananas to make them smoothies. She settled herself on the tall leather bar stools to watch as the fifteen year old threw in a handful of frozen strawberries from the large freezer inside the sturdy blender with a splash of milk to add to the silky smooth texture of the cold drink.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The solemn look on her face forced him to turn the machine off for a moment. He examined the way the edges of her eyes seemed to redden by the second, glazing over to signify the oncoming wave of salty tears.

Yeonjun sighed, making his way to her side to cradle her in his arms, leaning her head against his chest to run his hands through her hair. He didn’t say anything even if he heard the muted sniffles or the thick in her voice.

"You know what 영원한 means?" She shook her head, "Well, flower, it means eternally— forever. I promise you— cross my heart and hope to die— that I will be with you until the end of time, okay?"

Her mother was leaving, but at least Daniel was staying. She wouldn't know what to do if he left, too.

Daniel was funny. He was always the one that had pretended to be an ox to chase her around the empty complex when her father was glued to his chair in his office at the top floor and her mother was occupied by her endless meetings that she never understood what the need was for.

She knew him ever since she could think back in her memories, maybe he was secretly her brother. That would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Or better yet, maybe he was her dad— or her mom. He felt like one anyways, he was always the one that took care of her.

Eleven year old Heather knew that he couldn't be her parent, he was extremely young to be so, so maybe he was either her long lost brother— she didn't understand why her parents never told her, though. That is, if he was actually her older sibling hidden away— or an angel disguised as a fifteen year old middle schooler who liked to teach her to be nice to other kids.

Daniel was nice, he got that from his mother who was working as her own family's cook for the past ten years. Mrs. Choi was always smiling and she never scolded her whenever she snuck into the kitchen to steal all of the freshly baked cookies one by one.

In all honesty, ten year old Heather really did think that she was the stealthiest living being while crawling her way towards the kitchen island. The woman had always managed to find her slipping away through the sliding doors with a half munched cookie in her hand, melted chocolate smeared all over her lips.

Why did she never get angry? She always gave her a small plate of them after wiping away at her messy face, she always had the kindest eyes as well. Why?

She supposed that was why Daniel was so patient. He was the nicest person Heather knew and she would forever stand by the fact that Daniel Choi would be the most perfect person in all of mankind.

He was nice.

Her mother was leaving, leaving her to her father— was he even her real father? Heather didn't think that she had a single ounce of similarity to him in herself. He had the yellowest hair she had ever seen. Even the pale kid from her old fourth grade didn't have hair as saturated as his.

Heather had smooth brown hair, she was a brunette, and yet he had the curliest of blond hair ever. Her mom, on the other hand, had the silkiest of rich black hair. How did biology work again? What if she wasn't related to any one of them? She had eyes that looked like her mother's milky coffee, very light brown— Mrs. Choi always said that her mother never knew what actual coffee tasted like, always mixing it with soy milk to the point where it was more of a coffee flavoured milk.

Her dad had blue eyes, they were pretty— not to say that her mother's dark eyes were not, but eleven year old Heather was just saying. What if she was adopted? She really needed to pay attention to her biology classes. The short quiz about how genes work was closing up on both Jay and her, but her best friend didn't have anything to worry about anyway.

He had always been smarter than her, but that was fine. She could always be the brawn of the duo— or the cutest one that got all of the attention of the adults to distract them while he slid out of the room to buy a pack of Mentos candy from the nearest vending machine— it was always ten stories below his father's office, but that was fine. Jay was fast— so that they could try to make a bottle of Coke explode out in the garden.

Her thoughts were muddled up yet again, mind running at incredible speeds, remaining unexhausted from hopping on one train to the other. Where was she again?

Ah, yes, Heather wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeves, noting the way Daniel looked much older than before as he looked down at her with a concerned frown.

She wanted a cat.

“Danny?”

“Yes, flower?”

“Do you think mother is leaving because she doesn’t like dad anymore?”

“I don’t know, flower. Maybe.”

“Will you ever decide to leave if you don’t like me anymore?”

“Never. I will die before that could ever happen.”

“Okay, Danny. I believe you.”

“Good. Now, let’s drink our smoothies before they get warm.”

⟡

“Blue?” Heather whispers, the vast ceilings of her dark room didn’t scare her like it used to— now that she had him, she didn’t think she would ever be afraid of the empty and lifeless room ever again. The baby dolls her mother had bought for her when she was five years old were still lined up on her window sills all across her walls. The moon wasn’t coming out of its hiding place tonight— it was a rarity these past few months, shrouding her room in the darkest of shadows.

She wasn’t afraid of the dark, though. She had Jay, he would hold her hand and tell her funny stories that had happened during the day and he would lead her to sit on the velvet stool with him to play a little song for her on the grand piano that her father had made the staff set up.

Thirteen year old Heather still despised classical music— she wondered why she hadn’t dropped out of her tutoring sessions yet with her mother not around anymore. Perhaps it was a sense of duty towards the older woman, the same way she kept the hideous dolls around. She still lingered around— the ghost of her had never left, she sort of hated it.

She hated a lot of things, Heather had long before accepted the fact that she was just a petty person in general, she hoped that Jay did as well. She abhorred the smell of watermelons, same as the taste of tomatoes and the sound of her violin when she played another piece composed by Sibelius or Paganini— why couldn’t she play whatever she wanted? Where was her freedom?

Strangely enough, though, perched on the cushions of the mahogany stool next to Jay, she didn’t hate the way his fingers softly stroked the keys to lull her to sleep with Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57— or as they liked to call it, Bercy. For Heather, this was Jay in his core.

Park Jay had a beautiful heart— the sweet tone of the melody sounded different when he was the one playing— she loved listening to him. For an older Heather, one that was not a six year old brat anymore, music sounded nice when it was Jay the one playing for her. She liked music only when it was Jay playing for her.

“Yes, Heather?” There he was, calling her by her name again. Her mother always used to call her little lady, her father only used her korean name, 나봄 Nabeom— the only one to do so, oddly enough. Her teachers didn’t call her by her name either, were they scared of it? What reason would they have to call her dear?

She didn’t have friends, though— she didn’t need them anyway, they were all terrible little liars— Jay was all she needed, all she ever wanted. Jay liked to call her by her name, just like Daniel often did, save for the few endearing terms he used— mostly about flowers, given her name, Heather, but she liked them all. Anything Daniel said to her, she liked them all.

“Heather? Did you want to tell me something?” He played with the thin bracelet wrapped delicately around her wrist, the one he had made for her when he was twelve— admittedly, not that long ago, but enough to wonder about why she hadn’t taken it off yet. The warmth of her hands was like a reminder of her existence to him.

Do angels exist? He didn’t know the answer to this question, not even after the countless visits to the enormous church, but maybe, it was lying right next to him all this time. Maybe angels did exist in the form of a lonely thirteen year old girl who had hugged him tightly after he had won first place in yet another competition— it was memorable for a reason, he had never been hugged for any of his achievements before, big or small.

A clap of thunder stripped her of the bravado she had guised herself behind, she felt her limbs frozen in place, unable to find a good emotional foothold to hide away from the next set of thunder booming behind her glass windows.

Jay did not say anything else. Instead, he opted to let his closest friend find solace in the way they linked their arms together, pulling the covers over their heads akin to a comforting cocoon. This was enough for Heather— just her and him together, hiding from the stormy weather underneath her thick white blanket. This was all it took to calm his best friend down, to be there for her.

Just hold her hand.

⟡

Niccolo Paganini, her worst nemesis following the likes of Bach and Sibelius, was the sole reason for her months spent cooped up in her room, going over each one of his rigorous pieces with great care. Oh, how she would have liked to tear those stark white and black sheets with the most disgusted of scowls smeared on her face— right in front of her mother’s scrutiny, might she add.

The years and years of practice— as far back as her mind would allow her to remember— lead up to this one moment of battle between her and the devious fourth caprice in c minor she could barely fly over, never mind the twenty fourth. It was vomit worthy if you asked Heather herself.

Despise was the only word she had for the pieces given to her by her instructor. Why did she not give this up yet? Eleven years— nine of them by her mothers’ wishes, two more she had decided to continue on her own— she had spent cooped up either in a damn skyscraper or a closed off mansion to run through the counts by herself.

Why didn’t she just stop playing? Everyone knew how much she loathed her time playing her instrument. Was it to remember and keep a piece of her mother with her?Maybe, but she remembered that they didn’t even have the best of a parent-child relationship in the first place. Was it really because of her mother?

Jay.

Maybe the only reason she had not quit yet was her very own Jay. He always did play beautifully, coaxing her to join him if she so desired to. And how could she ever say no to him? Park Jay, she never knew how much of a hold he held on her, not even years later.

Indeed, maybe she didn’t quit yet just to keep an even ground with her childhood friend. Soon, she would leave her violin case behind forever.

⟡

Heather could not keep even grounds with her childhood friend anymore.

“Are you okay, miss?” A worker asked her with concern evident in his eyes. She blinked up at him, his form all but a blur going in and out of focus as she desperately tried to come to herself and shake the ringing out of her ears.

A few strands of her hair slipped out of her neat bun tied on top of her head. She tried to push herself back up on her feet, swaying as her knees buckled under her weight once again. The suited man from her father’s office stabilized her by her shoulders, leading her to one of the leather seats pushed against the crisp white wall.

“I’m okay, thank you.” Heather really was okay. It was probably just the fatigue growing on her after the hours of practice she had endured, or the fact that she had forgotten about her breakfast on the counter and lunchbox near her bag. She had to be okay, so she would continue believing that it was nothing, that everything was just fine.

He nodded, unconvinced but not prying any further, “If you say so. Be careful, okay?”

So she would do just that, but alas, even with great care, fate would continue running at its own pace and it would forever continue to break and build lives. It had done it millions of times before and it would do it again and again.

“I can’t believe you keep tripping over nothing, honestly. Watch your own feet, Heather.” Jay ruffled her hair, effectively destroying her long minutes of hard work at putting her hair together that morning. He always liked to do that, she noticed. Jay liked to systematically mess with her hair and then tuck the strands back behind her ear at least once every single day.

Every day, huh. How many days had it been since they had first met? How old was she even? They had probably spent more years together than without each other being by their side, well over six years she’d say, maybe even eight. Funnily enough, she remembered his long hair as a child as if it was just yesterday.

“Watch your hands, Jay, or else I’ll be the one to keep them in check for you.” she deftly slapped his hands away from cupping her cheeks, puffing out her lips like a fish. He only sniggered at the irritated pout on her lips, “How scary, I��m running for my life.”

“Shut up, I’m older than you.”

“Only by a few months at best. That’s not much. I’m way bigger than you, how about that?” His noticeably taller frame towered over her, if only by a few inches, but he still liked to take every opportunity to bring the difference up to her just to get her riled up time and time again.

It was somehow oddly cute.

“I will break your kneecaps, how about that?” her raised feet, ready to strike at any moment, made him take a cautious step back. “Only if you can catch me, but that’s hard because your legs are way too short to catch up to me, shorty.”

“That is it, Jay. You’re so dead.” Her roar of indignation did the trick to make him burst into a sprint for his life with an excited howl, heart beating in his throat. The sparkling floors make his brand new shoes squeak with every impact on the surface. “Catch me if you can, Heather!”

And without a single glance at the girl chasing him, he darted off into the hallways with various workers scattered throughout, all letting a noise of surprise out when they saw the boy bulldozing his way between them all, “Jay? Be careful!”

Unhearing of the words from the adults’ mouths for the time being, he dashed left into an open meeting office, countless wheeled armchairs set neatly next to each other around a heavy oval table. Heather ran straight inside, fearsome and glowing with determination to tackle him into the next galaxy, “Don’t think you can escape from me, Jay!”

⟡

“Sweet sixteen, Heather.” Jay brings the small cake closer towards her, urging her to make a wish and blow the sixteen individual candles away. He looked older now— he had shoulders that had grown wider by the day and his baby fat was slowly, but surely, melting away to reveal his strong jawline, his roundish features now prominent in their shape without the softness that came with being a child.

He had gotten rid of that god awful haircut as well, giving himself a brand new and welcome look— his undercut dreams had come true and Heather admitted that it suited him extremely well. He always did have that underlying promise of a handsome future, but now it was clearer than ever. Jay had the prettiest smile.

Much to her dismay, she hadn’t gotten around to beat his height, not when he was half a head taller than she already, or was it more than that? She didn’t know and ten years into their friendship, she didn’t really care anymore. The last time she had asked Daniel to measure their height was two years ago— the lines and dates lining up her door frame would gladly serve as proof of that.

Speaking of Daniel— she looked at the much older and much taller twenty year old across the room filled with just the three of them— he was still there.

Daniel liked to sing, he loved it and he loved to stand in front of hundreds and thousands of people to just let his voice out and perform to his heart’s content. He was good at it as well, she was not envious of his gift, though— not in that way. She was never jealous of the amount of praises and compliments he would get from people all around the world that had come to watch his concerts.

Big people with big names that wanted to take him away to bigger places than the good old Washington D.C.

Heather was never jealous of the love he had always received, even as a young middle schooler. No, she was never ever green with envy— in hindsight, she would always tell others that she was probably the one person proudest of him next to Mrs. Choi. Would that— could that— ever change?

No, absolutely not. Heather still was a strong believer of the extent of Daniel Yeonjun Choi’s perfection. If anything, she was just downright petrified that one day, he would break his promise of five years that he would never leave her behind in this cold world. That new friend of his seemed all too eager to do so.

What was his name again? Ah, yes, Beomgyu Choi. He was a pretty guy— now, that she was jealous of. Daniel was pretty, too, wasn’t he? Pretty people deserved other pretty people. Was she willing to let him go just yet, though? Not a chance.

Maybe she would, maybe she could, she thought as she looked at the sixteen flames illuminating Jay’s pretty face. Why was everyone so pretty?

“Come on, Heather. Blow it out or else the wax will drip all over the icing!” There it was, his signature whines that would never cease in her presence— which, technically, meant that he complained all day, all night. That was, if the term in her presence was taken literally.

“Happy birthday, flower. You’ve bloomed beautifully.” Jay let out a snort, a quiet ew right after. “Do you have to be so cheesy all the time?”

The man playfully jumps on the younger one’s back, quick tempered with his siblings— they were not real ones, but the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, right?— pulling Jay in a chokehold.

Heather had learned that move from him years ago, not even Jay had been around at the time. Heather was five years old when Daniel had come up from behind her and put her head between his arm and torso, lightly giving it a squeeze. Enraged, she demanded he teach her how to do it. An hour later, mrs. Choi would enter the room to find her eldest son being choked out by a five year old little girl as he lay limp on the marble floors.

"Stop flailing around, I'm blowing it out now." The two separated themselves from each other, eagerly waiting for the dessert to be cut into slices for them to enjoy. Deliberately, she gave the older male a larger piece, finding joy in the way her two friends started bickering again over the unfairness of it all. She let them fight it out for a while before giving Jay a smaller second slice to even things out.

“You’re an adult, Daniel. I think it’s embarrassing for you to fight me like this.” Jay quipped from Heather’s bed, stuffing his face with the smooth icing. The girl eyed the cream in disgust, nibbling on the sponges cake instead. She’d never understand why bakeries preferred a seven to three ratio of cream to cake.

“I’m not technically an adult yet. I live with my mom.” Daniel retorted from his seated position on the carpet. Heather sat next to him as always, succumbing to the natural gravitational pull whenever the older male was around. She always felt the safest when next to him, then Jay, but she’d never tell him that. Who knows how he would react if he heard it from her own mouth that she liked him just as much as Daniel. He would never let her hear the end of it.

Sixteen year old Heather finally quit music. She cut it out of her life, the motion done as quickly and soundlessly as her mother had a few years ago, leaving her behind forever as she ran back to Korea. Heather wondered where she’d be in life right now if she didn’t have a Jay Park or Daniel Choi with her.

Lost, probably.

It’s March 21st, Heather turned sixteen at last, safe and sound with Daniel right next to her as she smiled at her best friend sitting on her bed in front of her.

⟡

The next morning, she made her way to wash her face, slowly slinking out of her soft bed and trying not to wake up the boy snoring next to her. She’d slid a pillow under his arm to replace her. Planting her feet on the floor, however, did not come to her as easily as before. Almost instantaneously, her knees buckled beneath her, knocking the breath out of her lungs as she groaned in pain after the impact on her palm registered. She’d reached out blindly, using her hand to brace her body.

“Heather?” The ruckus woke up an exhausted Jay, who still looked incomparably better than her even with an early morning puffy face. He smoothly kicked the blanket off of his body to help the newly turned sixteen year old back on the bed.

“Hey,” brushing away the few strands of hair that had escaped the braid Daniel had put it into the night before, he held her arm, concern etched all across his face, “Are you okay?”

“Damn it.” The brunet winced at the few tears that escaped Heather’s eyes, stomach dropping at her sniffles. She covered her face with her palm, the other clutching the fabric of her sweatpants.

“This sucks.”

He tucked her in his chest, running his fingers through her hair and waiting till she calmed down from her abrupt meltdown. Looking at her tightened fist, he gathered her tighter in his arms, putting a warm hand over hers, slowly making her release her clothes. “You’re okay, don’t worry.”

Heather sniffled, trying to regain a steady breathing and pulling in deep breaths to soothe her hiccups. Jay kept smoothing a hand through her soft strands, patiently waiting. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”

Jay shook his head, pressing a kiss on her temple, “Why apologize?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, wiping away the last drop of tear that slid down her cheek, “I just couldn’t hold it in. It didn’t even hurt. I guess I just felt disappointed.”

Jay hummed in understanding, bringing the pad of his thumb to swipe away the moisture around her eyes, “It can happen sometimes, I get it. Come, let’s wash up your face. You look prettier when you don’t have snot all over your face.”

The comment made her chuckle, giving his shoulder a friendly punch, “You don’t tell a girl that she’s ugly, especially when she’s crying her soul out. That’s super rude.”

“Am I supposed to lie, then?” Jay retorted, taking Heather gently by her arm and leading her carefully to the bathroom on the other side of the large space. Truthfully, Heather could never be ugly, not in his eyes at least. No matter how much he liked to tease her about the minor flaws in her appearance here and there, nothing ever seemed less than perfect in his eyes when it came to his closest friend.

Close to two years ago, Jay realized that Heather Brown was prettier than the angels his mother told him all about when he’d been younger. The purest beings, breathtaking and beautiful, those were traits Heather held as well.

Even with eyes bloodshot, nose running a river and cheeks flushed from exertion, she was prettier than ever.

“I think we should tell uncle about what happened.” He quipped from behind as Heather patted her face dry. He was leaning against the doorframe, frowning at something she couldn’t see on the floor.

“It’s getting too frequent. You literally fell over while doing nothing yesterday too.”

Heather stayed silent, assessing his words, “It’s getting worse, Heather. I’m just worried about you, your dad too.”

So many words were left unsaid, they both knew that, but with Heather’s insistence on keeping the progression of her disease a secret from her already busy father, Jay swallowed back his thoughts of concern and let her be.

For how long he’d let her live a life of lies, however, he didn’t know. Three years ago, their life had turned upside down with the few words of a man in a crisp white coat and this was the only way he could keep Heather Brown happy.

Just stay quiet, and let her be. He couldn’t possibly shoulder the heavy burden of being the one who insisted she stay locked inside a room surrounded by white walls, unwilling to be the one who ripped her away from her happiness. For now, he’d just let her be and do as she said.

⟡

Winter came quicker than expected that year, heavy clouds creeping over the lifeless buildings of Washington D.C.

Heather never expected her last Christmas break before she graduated high school to be spent cooped up inside a room that made her feel lonelier than her own one did whenever she was left to her own. The only thing accompanying her throughout her days was the large, framed picture of lilacs on the wall to her adjacent, the monotonous monitor to her side, a leather white couch next to the tall windows and the nurses who’d occasionally come and go.

Daniel Choi was busy these days, too. She hadn’t seen the older male in two weeks, quite the record for someone who’d talk to him face to face almost every few days. If not face to face, then at least on the phone where he’d tell her all about his day. He would always complain about something his friends had done, affectionately calling Beomgyu an annoying gum that was relentlessly stuck to him.

She heard that name a lot more often since the first time he’d introduced him to her almost a few years ago. Beomgyu this, Beomgyu that, Beomgyu here, Beomgyu there. It seemed like he lived and breathed by that name, not that Heather was jealous at all.

It was nice seeing Daniel befriend someone closer to his age. What was not nice was the fact that she felt like he was slowly drifting away. He wouldn’t pick up her calls when she missed his comforting voice, only answering hours later at times when even she wasn’t awake.

Daniel felt so far away, more so than he’d ever felt like.

What happened to her Daniel who’d nag her to eat her meals on time, scolding her for not drinking enough water? Where was he, the one who’d drive away all of her worries with a single smile, a lame joke? With a sinking feeling in her gut, Heather realized that Choi Beomgyu was stealing the most perfect human being in this world from her.

The thought brought a certain heaviness in her chest, the walls enclosing in on her. Her hands trembled, heart racing inside her ribs and her lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. Fear had her in a merciless clutch as she curled into a fetal position, cupping her hands over her ears, not even taking the presence of the nurse next to her in.

Daniel was leaving her and it was all Choi Beomgyu’s fault.

⟡

Nighttime crept over the sky, for once the moon reflecting light over those on the streets, illuminating the city in a soft glow.

Heather felt better, good enough to wander down the halls of the large hospital in hopes of finding herself some entertainment, having already slept the day away. Energized for the night, she skipped down the empty corridors, careful to avoid any workers who might recognize the dreadful hospital clothing she’d been forced to put on when she first arrived last week.

“Snacks. I need snacks, lots and lots of them in fact.” She muttered at no one in particular, tracing an unending line on the wall as she went, taking a ninety degree turn to the right after confirming that her chances of getting caught were minimal.

The automated machine stood proudly at the other corner of the corridor, as she found out after an unnecessarily lengthy trip around the quiet floor, lost in the maze while trying to follow a random blue line that led her to nowhere in particular, not that she knew of. Snickers or KitKat? She weighed her choices, fishing out a few coins out of her frankly quite shallow pocket.

And then she saw black.

Rubbing her forehead in defeat, she pushed herself up to sit on her knees, half having the mind to let out a string of less than pleasant cuss words as she massaged the area that throbbed. Her momentary blackout had led her to collapse right before the vending machine.

Heather pinched the bridge of her nose, reaching out to wipe away the small droplets of red with her sleeve. She hoped her nose didn’t look too bad for wear, “Great, just great.”

With a grunt, she made an effort to stretch her legs out to stand. That’s odd, wait, giving up on trying to hold a hand over her nose, she put out both arms and flexed, wondering why her legs didn’t seem to be functioning properly. I can’t feel anything, she tried reaching out to grab the handle of the sitting bank just an arm’s length away.

Her fingers strained as she clawed the air, hoping to get a grip on the metal bar. Tears of frustration welled up behind her eyelids while she dragged her limp feet with the help of her upper body, strength quickly dwindling as she had to handle all of her body weight. This cannot be happening, not now, she begged for a semblance of power to return to her muscles.

Please, a stray tear slid down her chin as anger rose within her. “Move already.” She slammed a closed fist over her incapacitated limbs. What a joke, cursed to a life of being a burden to everyone around her. “Just do as I say, why won’t you?”

Cursing, she harshly bit down on her lip, making a grand effort to slide her body and carry herself over to sit on the metal bench. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the adrenaline that had allowed her to will herself up slowly ebbing away. She laughed, a reaction forced out of her as she laughed and laughed.

She didn’t feel the traitorous tears trailing down the side of her face for the nth time that week, she didn’t recognize anyone’s voice as people started approaching her. Heather laughed at the injustice of it all, wondering what she had done wrong to go through and struggle with something most people did on a minutely basis.

She laughed, bitter and tired of everything.

Nurse Willows sat her on a wheelchair, a kind smile ever so present on her face despite the late hour and exhaustion probably wearing her down from the long day of hard work. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room.”

She liked Ms. Willows too, something about her giving her the same feeling of comfort that came with Mrs. Choi, Daniel’s mother and her cook. She had traces of age where her smile creased, but she still looked youthful, lively. She was just as kind as Mrs. Choi as well, she’d rejoiced at having someone nice to talk to when she would inevitably grow bored sitting around on her stiff bed. Heather barely saw her around after their first encounter, though.

Tonight was the second time she got to interact with Ms. Willows. Albeit the less than pleasant conditions, Heather fell back asleep on her way to her room as the older woman pushed her forward, pleased that it was Ms. Willows and not anybody else.

Tomorrow would be a better day, she hoped. It was Christmas after all.

⟡

Finding a snoring Jay next to her the next morning was the best thing that she could have ever asked for.

He stirred in his sleep as she watched in awe, taking in his peaceful face like she always did. It had been months since she’d properly gotten to see him this close. She slowly smoothed over his cheek with the back of her fingers, barely hovering over his skin. Despite her best efforts at being subtle, his eyes fluttered awake anyways.

The sunlight was nowhere to be found at ten thirty-four am, right when Jay found himself staring into the eyes of his best friend. The room was dim with the only light coming from the hallway beneath her closed door. With what little brightness came in through the open blinds, shades of blue covering the sky behind the large glass panels, he took in her tired features.

Brown eyes never looked as good on him as they did on Heather Brown. Something about the way she looked at him felt like home, though to be fair, everything she did felt like home to him. There was no one in his life as clearly defined in who they were as Heather. His father, sure, along with his mother, but the person he’d wholeheartedly bellow the name of into the wind when asked who felt like home to him, was his one and only Heather, the girl peering right at him through the curtain of her lashes like he was her everything.

Like he was her everything.

And he was, to a certain extent. Heather thought back on the past ten entire years of her life, recounting the times Jay Park had proven time and time again that he’d always be the one person she could call her everything.

“You’re up.” Jay whispered, tracing small circles on her back with the hand he’d slung over her waist. He rejoiced in the way she fiddled in her position, feeling ticklish by his subtle pokes here and there where he knew she felt the most tickled by. Giggling at his onslaught, she quickly snatched his soft cheeks with her fingers and stretched the skin wide in an awkward grin.

Moving his cheeks around and bringing her hands together to make his lips puff out like a fish, she replied, “Who said you could invade my bed like this? It’s probably against the rules.”

Despite his hammering chest, he pulled her closer to himself, “It’s fine.” He could barely utter the few words through his squished face. “You wanna go out?”

Blinking, she strained her neck to spot the folded up wheelchair next to her small closet. Jay pushed himself to rest on his elbow, “It’s totally okay if you don’t feel like it, I just thought it’d be nice to see the snow.”

“It’s okay, let’s go. Help me up.” She stretched her arms forward, making a give me motion and pointed at the transport device she swallowed her pride and sat on with his help. “Push me as fast as you can.”

“We didn’t even notify the nurse or anything. You wait for like, a second, and I’ll be back in a minute.” After setting her down, he faced his body towards the door, rubbing the sleep quickly out of his eyes. He stopped when a hand pulled him back.

“Wait, why are you here anyways?”

“What do you mean?” The boy feigned innocence, half heartedly pulling his arm away from her loose grip. Heather steeled her expression, “I swear, Jay, if you pulled some funny business, then I’m sending you right back.”

It was at the beginning of year ten of school when Jay had decided he wanted to dance professionally. It was also in tenth grade that he’d finally convinced his father to let him audition, nearly spending the entire year coming up plans with her for the older man to finally cave in and let him quit the orchestra.

Heather had watched him dance for hours and hours on end, audition and then fail twice in a row before getting accepted into a small group. She had watched him pour his blood, sweat and tears throughout the past two years, every moment that would lead up to the big event not even a month away now.

There was no way he’d ditched going to the practice sessions just to take her out for something as mundane as a walk. “I’m actually gonna call uncle, Jay. I know how important the performance is, you shouldn’t be blowing off Sunghoon like that.”

“Chill,” He chuckled, flicking a finger over the bridge of her nose, “The regular meet up was postponed to tomorrow, because it’s a holiday and people have to be at home, exchange gifts and all of that jazz. The studio is closed for the day.”

“It better be.”

⟡

“I don’t have a gift for you.” Heather crossed her arms, looking at the small box resting on her lap. It wasn’t any bigger than the size of her palm, neatly wrapped with a white polka dotted paper, contrasting with the red background and glittering green ribbon tied around it in a typical festive fashion.

“I don’t need one.” He replied, sitting on the comfortable sofa across her as Heather fiddled with the small box. “Go on, open it.”

With great care, she unfolded the colorful wrap. “I’m gonna flip if it’s what I think it is.” She commented offhandedly, trying to cover up the glee seeping out of her voice. The velvet box felt familiar to touch, something she’d held in her hands once before, but never got around to bring it home with her.

“Oh, you bet it is.” Jay hopped off of the couch, flipping on the switch to her room. “I didn’t have the time to do anything special this year, but I know how obsessed you are with this, so yeah, sorry for the last minute surprise.”

“Want me to put it on for you?” Heather nodded at his offer, moving her hair to the side to allow him to clasp the dainty chain around her neck, the small pendant resting pretty on her décolleté.

“There you go,” Jay stepped back to rake his eyes over her appearance, “You look very pretty.”

And indeed she was. Jay, for all of his life, prided himself in the fact that he had never once lied to anyone about anything. He wore his heart on his sleeves and kept his words simple and honest, truthful in everything he said or did. At times, his frank words hurt those who hadn’t heard what they wanted to from him, driving quite a few people away with the bluntness in his words.

Everyone wanted to hear pretty white lies from him, turning their backs once they didn’t receive what they thought they would no matter how not unkind his delivery was. Honesty and sincerity, that’s what Jay prided himself in the most. Jay never lied, Heather knew that better than anyone else.

And so whenever he called her pretty, she felt like the most beautiful being in the world. If the words came from him, she’d take them to the bottom of her heart and encase it in a fragile glass container, cherishing it for a long, long time, because it was Jay’s words and Jay never lied.

For that night, she would truly feel beautiful, because he made her believe so.

⟡

July 21st only a couple of years ago, a summer day she remembered with every detail. Daniel had graduated high school just a little while ago and had decided to stay around, continue to make music on his own with his small group of friends, working small part time jobs in his other free time.

Heather had nothing to do that day with Jay away with his father on a trip and her own dad as busy with his business as always. It was Daniel who’d pulled her out of staying cooped up in her room all day. He’d dragged her out of her lonesome and taken her to a small ice cream shop next to the skatepark where kids mostly around her age usually hung out.

“You should try this mint chocolate one.” He’d begged her to try the minty flavored ice cream, to which she’d adamantly refused, knowing how he was aware that she hated it all the way to the depths of hell. Daniel could be annoying like that from time to time whenever he decided to shed his role of the ever loving, wise older brother.

“Suit yourself.” He’d replied with a sulk, typical Daniel fashion.

The heat rose from the asphalt, visible in the way it distorted the view of the park in front of the shop. She wondered if an egg would cook if she dropped it on the ground. It sure seemed like it was a possibility. Just like everything else however, she threw that thought behind, opting to enjoy the moment and her very delicious, very non-mint-chocolate ice cream.

The older male jumped right into step with her as they wandered out into the street, mindlessly wandering through the crowd of families and friends. He had an arm slung over her shoulder, chattering away about his plans for the next week. “You know what would be nice?” He piped up, nibbling on the cone in his right hand.

Heather didn’t reply, tilting her head to lock eyes with him as though she was questioning him. “What if we go on a little trip to the amusement park with Jay this Saturday? It’s been a while since we all went out together.”

She knew what he meant, the underlying message in between the lines. Still, she decided to ignore the unpleasant feeling, dropping her faux displeasure at him to contemplate on the suggestion. It had been a while since they’d had fun together, all three of them. “I’ll have to ask my father for permission, though.”

In a typical Daniel fashion, his lips curled into a lopsided smile, “If there’s anything I know about Mr. Brown after all these years, it’s that he won’t say no if I’m there to be your babysitter.”

“First of all, I don’t need a babysitter, much less someone like you.” Heather jeered at the older boy. “And secondly, remember that one time you almost let me drop from the fifty-first floor’s window when I was eight? And that one time you almost slipped down the wet stairs and dragged me down with you last year? I’d hardly consider you a capable sitter.”

She didn’t mention the time he’d gently held her while she mourned her mother’s departure, or when he’d patched her knees up when she’d fallen down from a tree branch while she and Jay were playing hide and seek at the park, or when Daniel had built them the biggest blanket fort the two younger ones had ever seen and have a movie night just because they’d both gotten great grades in their exam, or the time when he’d carried her on his shoulders because she couldn’t see the artist’s perform at the local music festival, or the time he’d trimmed her hair for her after she’d very unsuccessfully tried to give herself a new haircut.

She didn’t need to mention any of those instances where he’d been the angel taking care of her because he knew. Through her vulnerability with the boy she considered to be family, her constant little praises she liked to shower him with, her pulled back play-punches when he’d annoy her. Daniel knew that she saw him as the one that could do no real wrong, that he was her ever-loving and caring guardian.

Daniel knew, so when she said he wasn’t capable, he didn’t take the words to heart. He was so much more than just capable. Heather is an easy person for him to see through despite how others claimed the contrary.

Daniel knew that he was her everything, though it would be him in the end that would shatter her world.

#enhypennetwork #enhypen x female reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen jay #enhypen angst #enhypen jay imagines #txt yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #txt angst #txt fluff #enhypen fluff

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user-needs-new-hyperfixation · 7 months

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Thanks for the tag/how could you do this to me, @hergan416 😂

Rules: pick a song for each letter of your url and tag that many people. There are so many Es in my url and so few songs I know that start with E. 😭 Which is how Cascada somehow ended up on this list.😅 I literally ended up trawling a website listing songs by letter until I found enough songs that I know and like to fill the Es. The rest were pretty easy to gather from my various playlists/memory of songs I've liked.

Uptown Girl - Billy Joel

Shut Up and Dance - WALK THE MOON

Ever Fallen In Love - Pete Yorn

Runaway W. You - SVRCINA

No - Meghan Trainor

Eat Your Young - Hozier

Ego - Sarah Kennedy

Daffodil - Florence + The Machine

Swan Upon Leda - Hozier

No Angels - Bastille ft Ella Eyre

Electric Feel - MGMT

Wild - Troye Sivan

Hunter - Heather Dale

You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet - Bachman-Turner Overdrive

Power Over Me - Dermot Kennedy

Evacuate the Dance Floor - Cascada

River - Bishop Briggs

Fallin' - Why Don't We

I Really Like You - Carly Rae Jepson

X - Ex's & Oh's - Elle King (cheating, I know. Do you know how few songs start with X??!?!)

Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene - Hozier

The Other Side - The Greatest Showman OST

It's All Coming Back To Me Now - Celine Dion

Omens - Shawn James & The Shapeshifters

New Blood - Koda

Ain't no way I'm tagging that many people! But as always, if this seems fun to you but no one has tagged you yet and you feel awkward just doing it, say I tagged you!

#tag games

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ninja-muse · 1 year

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Well, this was certainly a good start to my reading year! I enjoyed most of what I read, got far enough towards my "Canadian authors" goal that I'm probably going to have to extend it in a few months, I won an ARC giveaway I’d forgotten I’d entered, and I'm excited for my February reading as well! We got a bumper crop of reading copies at work which included a bunch of my most anticipated reads, and I can’t wait to start in on them.

Apart from the ARCs, I officially acquired 4 books this month: Lost in the Moment and Found, because McGuire is an auto-buy; A Man and His Cat, Vol. 3 and 4, which were late Christmas gifts; and Into the Windwracked Wilds, which I did not get as a late Christmas gift so obviously I had to rectify the situation. (McGuire might be an autobuy, but I try to add my less-anticipated books by her to wishlists because I've got to ask for something.) Oh, and I got a cute mini-journal from @lizziethereader, which was a delightful surprise!

On a slightly down note, I bought the anniversary edition of Digger by Ursula Vernon through Kickstarter last year and, probably due to the problems that plague all crowdfunded items at distribution time, have yet to see it shipped to me. Still hopeful that it will mail soon!

Long-time followers will notice some slight changes in my wrap-up format. I decided that I wanted to start up ratings again, because "I'm really glad I read this" and "this was an excellent book" don't always align, and also that I wanted to acknowledge queer rep beyond "this is queer", the way I was acknowledging nationality and heritage more last year. (I'm doing that for characters only, not authors, because often the only info I have is "likes women" or "uses they/them" and I'm not comfortable trawling the web for details, if they're even out there.) There are also more reading goal-type stuff that I want to note, and unlike last year, I'm not counting or ranking picture or board books but I am still acknowledging when I read them.

I am also striking through HarperCollins titles for the duration of the strike. These lists serve partly as reminders to me, so I don’t want to omit them entirely, but I also stand with the strikers and want people to know which books to avoid if they do as well.

And now, without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

When the Angels Left the Old Country - Sacha Lamb When a girl from their shtetl goes missing in America, an angel and a demon decide to track her down. This will be a simple trip… right?

8/10

Jewish cast, 🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (agender), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian), Jewish author, 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: anti-Semitic characters

Lost in the Moment and Found - Seanan McGuire When Antsy runs away from the bad man in her mother’s house, she finds the thrift shop of her dreams and infinite worlds to explore. But everything comes at a cost.

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: grooming of a young child

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries - Heather Fawcett Emily travels to Ljosland to research the Hidden Ones. Unfortunately, the villagers dislike her, the faeries have their fingers deep in the village, and the horribly perfect Wendell Bambleby has invited himself along.

7.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian), 🇨🇦

I Know Who You Are - Barbara Rae-Venter How Rae-Venter got into forensic genealogy and the cases she’s most known for cracking. Out in February.

7.5/10

warnings: kidnap, murder, sexual assault

Remainders of the Day - Shaun Bythell A third year in the life of a Scottish bookseller.

7/10

The House With the Golden Door - Elodie Harper Amara is finally free of the brothel, but her friends aren’t, and her patron is turning out to be less kind than she thought.

7.5/10

African secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic)

warning: rape, misogynist society, slavery, eating disorder

Yeti Left Home - Aaron Rosenberg When a Hunter comes to town on the trail of brutal murders, Wylie leaves his small-town sanctuary for the big city. Unfortunately, the killer and the Hunter seem to have followed.

7/10

A Song for Arbonne - Guy Gavriel Kay Arbonne is known for sunshine, troubadours, and goddess worship; Gorhaut, for wars, rigidity, and a hatred of women. The tension between the two has begun to escalate and Blais of Gorhaut is caught in the middle.

7/10

minor 🏳️‍🌈 characters (gay), 🇨🇦

warning: misogynist characters, rape, mild homophobia, animal death, war

Mistakes Were Made - Meryl Wilsner Cassie has a one-night-stand with an older woman. Who turns out to be her friend’s mom. It has to end there—and yet.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (bisexual), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (bisexual, genderqueer), Black secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 author

I Want to Be a Wall, Vol. 1 - Honami Shirono An asexual woman and a gay man enter a marriage of convenience. She loves BL manga. He loves his straight best friend.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 main characters (ace, gay), Japanese cast, Japanese author

Bad Cree - Jessica Johns Mackenzie’s having nightmares about her dead sister and bringing items back from her dreams. Everything points to going home and being with family, so she does—but the nightmares don’t end.

6/10

Cree protagonist, Cree and Squamish secondary characters, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (nonbinary/two-spirit, bisexual), Cree author, 🇨🇦

warning: grief

Cold Case BC - Eve Lazarus Profiles of notable cold cases from British Columbia—and some that have finally been solved.

7/10

🇨🇦

warning: murder, disappearances, kidnapping, rape, MMIWG

A Killing In Costumes - Zac Bissonnette Jay and Cindy just got an offer that might save their movie memorabilia business. Unfortunately, their competitor has turned up dead and that might sink everything.

5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonists (gay, lesbian), 🏳️‍🌈 author

Picture Books

Hats Are Not For Cats! - Jacqueline K. Rayner Cat wants to wear hats, but hats are only for dogs.

When Sally Met Harry - Paulette Bourgeois, illustrated by Brooke Kerrigan Goldendoodle Sally’s family is perfect, until the baby arrives.

🇨🇦

Currently reading:

The Porcelain Moon - Janie Chang Faced with an arranged marriage, Pauline decides to travel to the Western Front to find her cousin. Meanwhile, Camille is caught between an abusive marriage and her secret love for a Chinese man.

Chinese main and secondary characters, Chinese-Canadian author, 🇨🇦

Nocturne - Alyssa Wees

A ballerina in 1930s Chicago acquires a Mysterious Patron. Out in February.

Stats

Monthly total: 13 + 2 pb Yearly total: 13/140 Queer books: 4 Authors of colour: 2 Books by women: 7 Authors outside the binary: 2 Canadian authors: 4/10 Off the TBR shelves: 2 Books hauled: 4 ARCs acquired: 9 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

#books #booklr #bookblr #reading wrap-ups #book photography #read in 2023 #my photos #stacks of books #book covers

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seancekitsch · 9 months

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About Me

I figured it would be good to update this bc i last posted about myself during lockdown

name: bonnie/bon

age: 28

relevant info: leo/gemini/gemini, ISTP, enneagram 8w7,

hobbies: cosplay, writing, knitting, archery, reading, vhs tape collecting, theater, dungeons and dragons, bass guitar

movies: scream series, moulin rouge, trainspotting, lost boys, near dark, evil dead, funny games (original austrian), druk, suspiria, heathers, jubilee, the graduate, videodrome, naked lunch, inglorious basterds, disco pigs

shows: venture bros, twin peaks, mr robot, the boys, game of thrones/house of the dragon, umbrella academy, peacemaker, the witcher, daria, the young ones, the mighty boosh, succession, star trek lower decks, outlander, peaky blinders, its always sunny in philadelphia

music: nick cave and the bad seeds, david bowie, iggy pop, tom waits, my chemical romance, father john misty, gorillaz, djo, tame impala, kylie minogue, carly rae jepsen, twin temple, the amazing devil, ls dunes, car seat headrest, blur, orville peck, bruce springsteen, WHY?, slowdive

interests: history, labor laws, craft beer and scotch, social novels, physical media, 60s/70s/80s fashion, DIY

other socials: tiktok, spotify

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laresearchette · 1 year

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Tuesday, November 01, 2022 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES? MARY MCCARTNEY SERVES IT UP (discovery +) GOD FORBID: THE SEX SCANDAL THAT BROUGHT DOWN A DYNASTY (Disney + Star) LITTLE PEOPLE, BIG WORLD (TLC Canada) 8:00pm BELOW DECK ADVENTURE (Slice) 9:00pm I AM SHAUNA RAE (TLC Canada) 10:02pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA GET OUT THE GREAT WALL

CBC GEM THE INTRO (Series Premiere) STILL MAX

CRAVE TV ONCE UPON A SESAME STREET CHRISTMAS

DISNEY + STAR GOD FORBID: THE SCANDAL THAT BROUGHT DOWN A DYNASTY

NETFLIX CANADA ATTACK ON FINLAND A BAD MOMS CHRISTMAS THE BIG SHORT THE CAPTIVE DEATH AT A FUNERAL EDDIE THE EAGLE EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND: Seasons 6-9 FIFTY SHADES DARKER THE FIRM GABBY'S DOLLHOUSE (Season 6) GET OUT THE IMITATION GAME JUST LIKE HEAVEN MADAGASCAR OPEN WATER A QUIET PLACE PENELOPE RED DRAGON ROAD TO PERDITION SHREK SHREK 2 SINGLE WHITE FEMALE THE SUM OF ALL FEARS THE TAKEOVER VAMPIRE DOG YOUNG ROYALS (Season 2)

NHL HOCKEY (SN360) 7:00pm: Flyers vs. Rangers (TSN5) 7:00pm: Sens vs. Lightning (TSN2) 8:00pm: Habs vs. Wild (SN Flames) 9:00pm: Kraken vs. Flames (SN1) 9:00pm: Predators vs. Oilers (SN360) 10:00pm: Devils vs. Canucks

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4/TSN5) 7:30pm: Warriors vs. Heat (TSN4/TSN5) 10:00pm: Timberwolves vs. Suns

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 8:00pm: Astros vs. Phillies - Game #3

THIS HOUR HAS 22 MINUTES (CBC) 8:00pm

KARENA AND KASEY'S FOREIGN FLAVOURS (APTN) 8:00pm: Karena and Kasey land in the food mecca of Tokyo and are auctioned off for a charity.

STRAYS (CBC) 8:30pm: Shannon surprises Doris when Travis is away; Liam helps Paul with a land deal; Lara and Kristian try to impress Lara's dad.

DINE YOUR SIGN (CTV Life) 8:30pm: Chef Siobhan Detkavich is cooking for Virgo.

MOOSEMEAT & MARMALADE (APTN) 8:30pm: Art and Dan travel to Poundmaker Cree Nation, Sask., home to the Poundmaker monument and herds of wild buffalo. Led by an Elder and his apprentice, the pair goes on a buffalo hunting adventure.

COMEDY NIGHT WITH RICK MERCER (CBC) 9:00pm (SEASON FINALE): Comedian and TV icon Rick Mercer is joined by Canadian comics Ted Morris, Mark Forward, Tranna Wintour, and Erica Sigurdson.

MEAN MUMS (APTN) 9:00pm: Jess, Heather and Hine want to be voted back in as the Junior Fundraising Committee, but they will have to make their case as the day descends into a parent popularity contest.

ALIEN ABDUCTION: BETTY AND BARNEY HILL (DTour) 9:00pm: In September 1961, Betty and Barney Hill are driving home from a honeymoon trip when they make a shocking discovery and come face to face with a UFO.

HEAD HIGH (APTN) 10:00pm

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #this hour has 22 minutes #karena and kasey's foreign flavours #strays #dine your sign #moosemeat & marmalade #comedy night with rick mercer #mean mums #head high #nhl hockey #nba basketball #mlb baseball

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raepritewrites · 3 months

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Yet another ficlet that I don't feel like putting on ao3, enjoy!

Blood is Thicker

Marvel x Young Justice AU

TEEN for kidnapping and blood mentioned

Ocs: Heather and Harry Parker

Cheshire and probably Lex Luther, haven't thought that far ahead

“Experiment 337 is not progressing as predicted. The chemical chains are breaking down faster than the team had anticipated, making the solution inoperable for further testing,” Heather squinted down the microscope in front of her, watching the tiny world on the slide deteriorate like a building imploding.

“Fuck,” she added, hoping FRIDAY knew that part shouldn’t be on the official lab report. “I really thought we had it that time.” She pushed back from the microscope on her rolling stool, rubbing her eyes. It was late; she’d been here since six am and it was nearing two am now. At least Stark Industries paid really great for overtime.

She and her team had been working relentlessly on their newest theories to “unlock human potential” as Pepper Potts had put it to the investors. Tony later said that was fancy talk for “curing cancer”, and Heather had told him that was a gross understatement.

If Heather and her colleagues were correct, and they were ninety-eight percent sure they were, human genetics held the key to curing some of the worst ailments suffered worldwide. They were also, even before Tony or anyone else could say it, well aware that it sounded like something a supervillain would state. But the numbers didn’t lie - they’d spent a long time theorizing before they had ever gotten close to the lab testing phase, and human testing was practically lightyears away.

What had never been included in the official reports was Heather’s suspicion that her own genetics might hold the key they were looking for. She was sorely tempted in moments like this, when yet another experiment failed, to grab a syringe and draw just a small blood sample.

Just a few drops, that might be all she needed to make a breakthrough… but she always stopped that thought cold.

Now that was a supervillain origin story just waiting to happen - a scientist starts experimenting on herself in desperation for answers. She could name half a dozen villains off the top of her head with that exact backstory, and she refused to become a statistic on principle alone.

Maybe it was time to call it a night. Or a day, rather. She was supposed to be off tomorrow. Today, whatever.

She’d use that time to catch up on sleep, cuddle with her fiance, and maybe return Nightwing’s phone call. Maybe.

If it had been Dick calling her, she wouldn’t have hesitated for her ‘adopted’ brother. However, it had definitely been Nightwing calling over her comms line this past week. He was asking for a favor, a mask related favor, and she really was starting to regret not burning that bridge.

She still loved helping people, but that’s why she’d pushed herself so hard to obtain her biochemical engineering degree. This, her research, helped people long term.

Masks could help with the immediate disasters, sure, but there was always another one looming on the horizon. The hunt never ended. And she was tired of the hunt. She was tired of chasing something she wasn’t even sure she wanted anymore.

She’d thought as a teenager that superheroing would give her closure. Her father had died saving her. Surely carrying on his legacy in the mask would honor his memory, would give her a sense of purpose. But it had never really filled the hole in her heart left by his absence.

Her father was gone, and the only way she could give herself closure was to keep moving forward, not stay stuck in the past.

“Alright FRIDAY,” She finally said with a sigh, hopping off her stool and stretching her back. “I think it’s time for me to go home.” As usual, she felt the danger just a fraction of a second too late.

"So soon, Ms Parker? But we just got here," said a female voice sweetly.

Heather acted more startled than she actually was, whirling around and 'accidentally' knocking an empty plastic vial tray off the counter.

Two men of standard bodyguard build, and a woman that she was unfortunately very familiar with had somehow made it all the way to the 24th floor of the SI building, bypassing multiple security checkpoints, and even FRIDAY herself.

In very classic fashion, Heather asked the logical question first. "How the hell did you get up here?"

"That's not important," the woman said, the wide stretched grin of her mask unnerving even to someone who'd seen it many times.

"Pretty sure my boss would disagree. I'm assuming FRIDAY is offline?" Heather crossed her arms, trying to look uncomfortable by the intruders while actually hiding her fingers that were pushing the beacon hidden in her watch.

"She's been locked out of this floor temporarily. Just long enough for us to collect you, Ms Parker," Cheshire replied, running her gloved finger idly along a countertop as she wandered the room.

Heather knew she was probably looking for extra security measures, but this high up in the building, it was just FRIDAY - which normally was more than enough. "And what can I do for you, Miss…?" She raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Call me Cheshire," the half-Vietnamese woman said with a bow.

Considering you're Artemis' sister, I should probably be calling you a cousin by now, Heather thought. "Cute. You didn't answer my other question. What do you want?"

"My employer is looking for some specialized assistance. They decided you were the perfect candidate for the job." Cheshire was idly twirling one of her blades on the spotless lab counters.

Heather shouldn't have been surprised the woman talked about abducting scientists in the same way one discussed the weather, and yet…

"Wow," Heather said dryly. "I finally reached the point in my career where someone deemed me smart enough to kidnap. I'm flattered."

"Don't be silly, Ms Parker. We’re not here to kidnap you. You're going to come willingly."

Heather snorted. "Yeah right."

Cheshire seemed more amused than usual as she sauntered closer. "I'm perfectly serious. In approximately one and a half minutes, you're going to walk out of the lab with my associates and I. You will tell the AI that you're going of your own free will, and that everything is fine. We will walk out of the building together, get into our vehicle and make our leave. Nice, clean, simple."

"No amount of money in the world could ever convince me to go build some maniac a dirty bomb, or whatever your boss wants me to do," Heather stated firmly.

"Oh but the prize being offered here is… well, quite priceless," Cheshire nodded her head towards her backup muscle. One of the men pulled a smartphone from his coat pocket, tapped it a few times and held it up where Heather could see the screen.

Heather felt the blood drain from her face as her stomach clenched. On the other end of the video call was her little brother, Harry, bound hand and foot to a chair in a dark room and gagged. There was a blossoming bruise barely visible beneath his shaggy bangs, and a tear in his favorite denim jacket, but he otherwise looked unharmed. Terrified yes, but alive.

After a moment, Heather found her voice. "I don't know who your boss is, but he's made a very big mistake," she glared at the masked woman. "If anything happens to him, heads will roll."

"Like I said," Cheshire said coyly as she turned away. "I knew you'd come willingly."

Heather swallowed the insults that flooded her mouth, knowing Cheshire was just the messenger. She tapped her anger down into a small box in her chest, focusing on logic instead.

Yes, these people had Harry. Did they know she and her brother were enhanced? It was unlikely, given that they'd tied her brother with what looked to be standard hardware store rope. Then this had nothing to do with their secret identities or their step-father’s. Knowing that gave her the smallest advantage but also put her in an interesting bind.

She could still refuse to go with them and rescue Harry herself. She could get a message to Peter, or the League, and let them bust Cheshire's employer. Problem was, she didn't know where Harry was, or who had him. If she didn't play this right, she could blow all of their secrets.

On the other hand, if she didn't play at all, Harry would die.

"Dammit," she muttered, dropping her arms in defeat. "Alright, just… Let me grab my bag."

"Oh please, allow my associate to help you," Cheshire offered, as the man not holding the video feed of her brother picked up her purse and jacket. "I wouldn't want you getting any funny ideas about calling the police. After all, you're coming with us willingly, remember?"

The man pulled her phone out of her purse and left it purposefully sitting on one of the counters, like Heather had put it down and forgotten about it. He made a grabbing motion with his hand. "Smartwatch too, Ms Parker."

Heather gritted her teeth but removed her watch, handing it over. It was placed neatly beside the phone as he offered her her jacket.

So much for my civilian beacon. I don't have my backup with me either, she thought, shrugging into her jacket and accepting her purse. She gave the video feed one more glance and felt a new resolve harden in her gut.

I'm coming, baby brother, just hang on.

When she and her three new friends walked out of the lab, FRIDAY's voice greeted her instantly. "Ms Parker, I have been out of contact with you for two minutes and forty-three seconds. Is everything okay?"

Cheshire gave her a pointed look.

Heather took a deep breath. "Everything is fine, FRIDAY. I'm leaving here of my own free will. Please, make sure to tell my dad I have to postpone our meeting until later, something has come up."

She held her breath, hoping her 'friends' wouldn't find anything wrong in her words that could get her brother killed. She knew FRIDAY was one of the smartest AI's on the planet, and even if she wouldn't know exactly why Heather’s words were off, she would know to share them with the right people.

FRIDAY processed her words for a long heartbeat. "Very well, Ms Parker. Have a good evening."

The AI opened the elevator for them, and soon they were dropping down into the parking garage. The three led Heather to a nondescript black SUV, and within moments they were pulling into late night traffic. The two men were in the front seat, Cheshire and herself in the middle row. Once the Stark Industries building was out of sight, Heather’s voice was like ice. "How do I know that your boss will release my brother when they get what they want?"

"You have my word," Cheshire promised coolly. "I have no intention of breaking up a family."

"Right," Heather drawled, unimpressed. "I suppose you won't tell me what they want until we arrive."

"And spoil the surprise?"

Heather rolled her eyes. "Mmhmm. Listen, I've been going nonstop for about twenty hours now, so I'm going to get some sleep. I'd appreciate it if no one stabbed me before I got to see my brother."

"You've got it, sunshine. Pleasant dreams," Cheshire cooed at her smugly.

Heather glared at her hard enough that she could see the woman stiffen. "I meant what I said, Cheshire. I don't care what happens to me, but if anything befalls my brother, I won't rest until everyone responsible is dead. You have my word on that." With that said, she leaned back in the leather seat and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the mental images of yet another loved one lying in a pool of blood at her feet.

Harry didn't know what was happening, and as someone who was usually in the loop, he did not enjoy the feeling.

He'd been on campus, leaving a party much later than his mom would have liked him to be, but he didn't have class the following day, and he'd been in a festive mood.

He had gotten a girl's number from the party, which didn't happen often to a Parker (or a Reilly for that matter). Her name was Sabrina, she was an art major, she loved dogs and wanted to paint a wall mural somewhere in the city - and he had her number!

Harry had been so happy walking back to his dorm that he hadn't paid his spider sense any mind until rough arms were dragging him down an alley.

At first, he'd thought it was a mugging, but then his three assailants were trying to shove a chemical soaked rag over his mouth and nose. He'd taken a deep breath of the stuff before his head caught up with what was happening to his body.

He threw two of his attackers off with just a fraction of his enhanced strength, and punched the third in the jaw. He turned to run for help when the chloroform seemed to catch up with him, speeding through his system from his rapid heartbeat. He staggered, tripping over a garbage can and landing roughly on his hands and knees. He opened his mouth to call for help when he was tackled from behind, knocking the air from his lungs.

Harry flipped onto his back, trying to aim a punch at the man's throat but his slowed reflexes meant the hit just glanced off of his attacker's shoulder. The man retaliated with a punch to Harry's temple, bouncing his skull against the concrete. Harry blinked the stars from his eyes as the other two men pinned him down and forced the rag over his face again. He tried to hold his breath, but the man straddling him had a knee pressed against his diaphragm, making him more and more aware of his need for oxygen.

Harry kicked his legs weakly, desperately, trying to tug his arms free but soon his lungs burned for air. He took in a desperate gasp and instantly felt his head swim as darkness took over his vision.

When Harry woke up sometime later, he was bound to a metal chair bolted to the floor, cotton in his mouth and sticky tape sealing his lips. He took several minutes to clear the fog from his brain and take stock of his situation. The room was dark except for a single light bulb hanging above him, its weak light only illuminating a ten foot radius. He was alone, as far as he could tell, and that made him more nervous.

He very carefully flexed his muscles and knew instantly he could free himself. Clearly, whoever had grabbed him didn't know his secret. So, that eliminated the Spiderman angle, or at least the Stinger angle. So why was he here?

Outside of his extra curricular activities with his dad and occasionally his sister, there was nothing remarkable about Harry. He'd gotten into college on a soccer scholarship, he made average to good grades, his parents weren't rich, and he wasn't in any kind of fraternity which eliminated the odds of this being a hazing gone way too far.

He couldn't even say that Harry Parker had enemies. He was generally well liked by most of his class - even Malcolm Washington, the little prick, didn't rank any higher than a traditional sports rival. Stinger had enemies, that was for sure; ones he'd inherited from his dad, and ones he'd made on his own just from fighting the good fight.

But if these people wanted Stinger, why tie him up with regular rope and leave him unguarded? That didn't make sense.

Suddenly, a door Harry hadn't noticed before opened and someone cast in shadow from the light outside stepped in. Harry squinted against the bright light, eyes struggling to adjust from the dark. It looked like whoever it was had a long metal object in their hand, and a spike of panic went through him.

The shadowy person approached deliberately and Harry willed himself not to outwardly react, even when his heart threatened to bust its way out of his chest. The person paused just outside of the circle of light and took the long metal object, which Harry finally recognized as a tripod, and set it up in front of him. They placed a smartphone onto the tripod so it faced Harry, and stepped back further into the shadows.

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion, but with the wad of whatever-it-was shoved in his mouth, he couldn't ask what the hell was happening. He didn't have to wait long, though.

A video call came across the screen and the shadowy person answered it. Harry at first stared back at his own disheveled reflection in the camera before the call connected, and suddenly he was staring at his big sister's pale face. Her voice came over the tinny speaker, furious as her gaze switched from him to someone off-screen. "I don't know who your boss is, but he's made a very big mistake. If anything happens to him, heads will roll." He’d only heard her sound so angry a few times before. It wasn’t her Scarlet Spider voice, not exactly, but it was very very close.

"Like I said," A mystery woman responded. "I knew you'd come willingly."

Harry’s confusion only deepened as he watched a myriad of emotions cross his sister’s face. Who were these people? What did they want from Heather? It couldn’t have been ransom, she didn’t have any more money than his parents did.

He’d found that strange when he was younger, since his sister was friends with not just one but two billionaires, but she’d explained to him that she wanted to earn her own way through the world - not rely on charity or favors. While she had accepted the scholarships that put her through college from Wayne Foundations and Stark Industries, she’d made their respective CEO’s promise to actually consider other candidates’ essays, instead of just picking hers because they knew her. Wayne and Stark had assured her that she’d won them fair and square with the handful of other candidates. And then Heather had gone and interrogated Pepper Potts and Dick Grayson to make sure it was actually true before accepting them.

“-you’re coming with us willingly, remember?” The mystery woman on the call said, forcing Harry to halt his scattered thoughts and focus on what was happening.

Heather surrendered her phone and smartwatch, looking like she was swallowing a lemon as she did. He knew why too. Her watch had a distress beacon built into it for civilian emergencies. Without her watch, the likelihood of someone finding them had dwindled significantly. She turned back to the phone and met his gaze through the feed, a familiar look of steely protectiveness in her eyes before the call was cut off.

When he was younger, he’d found his sister’s protectiveness annoying at best and overbearing at worst. He was his own person, with his own powers, and could take care of himself. If he wasn’t worried about blowing his status as enhanced, he could bust himself out of here right now. He hated that he was being used as leverage against his sister for… something.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what they would want from her. Sure, Heather knew a lot of people, but most of those connections were strictly through the mask. The few she knew that were of public knowledge - Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, a few of the X-Men - nobody outside her inner circle had any idea how deep those connections went. As far as the world at large was concerned, she and Dick Grayson had met at a charity event as teenagers and remained friends, Tony Stark was her boss along with thousands of others, and her fiance was a retired member of the X-Men. Not exactly blackmail material.

The shadowy figure had left at some point during Harry’s musings, leaving the tripod and phone behind and cutting off the outside light. The dim lighting and bareness of the room once again set his nerves on edge.

Harry wasn’t one to spook easily, but his spider senses seemed to be stretching out taut as a bow string, searching for danger or stimulus of any kind. He was restless and wished he could get up and pace the room.

Heather had explained to him that the spider sense was a kind of precognition. It was an extension of what most people referred to as a sixth sense; the creeping feeling you got when you instinctually knew something was wrong, but multiplied by a hundred.

When the sense had finally come to him fully, he’d been so nauseous with vertigo he laid in bed for three days, choking down clear liquids and saltine crackers only to throw them back up a few hours later. Heather had stayed by his side the entire time, coaching him through reining in the power until it didn’t overwhelm him.

“It’s a muscle, Harry. Think of it like your diaphragm,” Heather had explained to him in a soft voice. He’d had his eyes pinched closed as tight as they would go, his head exploding with sounds and colors. He could hear traffic from outside their apartment like it was right beside him. He could hear every baby crying, and every neighbor in their building as they cleaned or talked or watched television or vacuumed or made dinner.

It was too much, it was all too much.

“Breathe Harry. Come on, little brother, breathe. Focus on the sound of my voice, on my heartbeat and nothing else. Your spider sense is trying to find danger that isn’t there, constricted as tight as if you were holding your breath. Let it relax, let it acknowledge that you’re safe, and then reel it back one breath at a time.” Heather and pressed her forehead to his as she sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hand and guiding it to the pulse point in her neck. “Breathe, one two. Breathe, one two. That’s it little brother.”

Harry closed his eyes now and focused his breathing, focused on the pounding of his heart that sounded so loud in his ears. Slowly, his spider sense uncoiled itself from around his throat, his breaths evening out as his brain reasserted control. Yes, he was in a bad spot. Yes, he and his sister were in danger. But it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle together.

His spider sense returned to it’s normal hum at the base of his skull - a snake ready to strike when danger reared it’s head, but also content to let its prey come to it. It was his constant companion, as much as it was for his sister, and their fathers before them.

Harry opened his eyes, frowning at that thought. His fathers. He rarely thought about his birth father, Ben, these days. Peter was the only father he’d ever known, though the man wasn’t always worthy of the title.

To his credit, Peter had really stepped up during Harry’s high school years, becoming a more prominent presence in his life than he’d ever been previously. Did it make up for the years Peter had squandered, too lost in self pity and hatred? No, not really, but the effort was appreciated.

Yet despite Peter’s shortcomings, Ben didn’t weigh on Harry’s mind the way he knew the man did for his older sister. Heather would probably never recover emotionally from the loss of their biological father, and the bitterness she had towards their stepfather ran deep. Oh sure, she’d taken steps. She’d attended therapy sessions, surrounded herself with friends who understood - at least to a degree - what it was like to lose a parent, even if it wasn’t in quite the same way as she had. She had made a kind of peace with the tragedy that stole Ben away from them before Harry was even born, but it was unclear whether she’d ever really forgive Peter’s role in her trauma. Despite her personal feelings, she didn’t seem to begrudge the close bond that Peter now shared with Harry and their younger sister Audrey.

“I don’t want you two to grow up to become jaded like me,” She’d told him once when it was just the two of them. “There’s only room for one black sheep in this family, and I’ve laid claim to it. You and Audrey should have the dad that I never really got.”

“It’s not like he wasn’t there,” Harry had argued at the time. He’d been eighteen and certain he knew how the world worked.

Heather had been twenty-three. Her smile had been so sad, just remembering it hurt. “Not in the ways it mattered,” was all she said.

Harry was twenty-one now, and while he better understood his sister’s perspective, he also knew that this was something they’d never truly see eye to eye on.

Harry's thoughts continued to wander as he waited in darkness. He wondered if his roommate Josh had noticed his absence. If he'd called his parents. Was his dad out looking for him now? He wondered if he'd see his mom again, or get to hug his adorably bratty thirteen year old sister one more time. Just as his thoughts were really beginning to spiral, the door opened again. He jerked his head up, squinting as he was once more blinded by the light.

"Harry!" Heather cried, running to him. She cupped his cheeks gently as she examined the bruise he could feel on his temple, eyes glittering suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

Fine, he tried to say, only to remember the gag.

Heather turned her head to glare at her escorts, while keeping a reassuring grip on her brother's broad shoulders. "Let him go. You've got me here, you don't need him anymore."

"Unfortunately, he will have to remain our guest for a little longer," Cheshire said, and Harry suddenly recognized it was her voice he'd heard on the video call. "Do as my employer asks, and he will be released."

Harry felt more than saw the tremble of rage that slid down Heather’s spine, his spider sense warning him of the very real harm his sister was capable of when provoked.

She seemed to give herself a five count to control her anger, before turning back to him. She smiled forcefully, leaning down to wrap her arms around his shoulders and bury her face in his neck. Only he could hear her as she breathed, "don't worry. Peter will be here soon. Play along until I can get us out of this."

Harry leaned his head toward her in response, grunting softly in acknowledgement. She pulled back enough to kiss his cheek and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "I'm sorry you got dragged into this, baby brother. Everything will be fine, okay?" She carded her fingers through his dirty hair, seemingly on the verge of tears, but he knew her well enough to see they were fake.

He played along, nodding with wide eyes, letting his Adam's apple bob nervously as he looked between his sister and the muscular guards. Playing the part of a scared victim was almost too easy. Mary Jane had given all of her children acting lessons to help maintain their secret identities. She always joked they would need it, since Peter was a terrible actor.

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