#he’s new to the whole romance thing ok cut him some slack

[ghost-bxrd]

6k words and counting for the JayTim spite fic… 🫡

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Syverson the Protector pt 5

*   Syverson The Protector - Part I (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part II (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part III  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

*   Syverson the Protector - Part IV  (pairing Syverson x YOU)

Author note: Finally part 5! Thank you so much for hanging in with me through this delightful journey and I hope that this part quenches your desire.

Summary:  Henry has invited you to spend a few weeks at his cabin in the mountains and of course you agree. 💖NEW💖

Rating for this part:  Sex, fluff, discussion of trauma (minor) Everyone has a good time and Aika is there too :)

I’ve picked ‘Henry’ as Syverson’s first name and he’s grown his hair out :D

Must be read in order, no part can stand alone.

Word count: 7500

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

‘Well,’ said your nurse as she watched you sort and pack your belongings. ‘If you want him to know how you feel, you have to tell him.’ 

She folded her arms and leaned against the narrow door frame to your hospital room. You glanced up at her. 

‘I’m not twelve, Barb,’ you scoffed, nevertheless feeling pleased with her observation.

‘Well you were the one asking me to pass notes to him like you were in school.’ 

You raised your brows in surprise and then pointed an accusatory finger at her. You had resorted to note passing because you couldn’t see Henry face to face and communicate with him like an adult. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you made it work. 

‘You, Nurse Barb,’ you started, about to say something caustic and then relented, deciding to be sweet. ‘Did a great job passing notes, and I thank you.’ 

You flipped closed your small travel case and crossed the hospital room to grab at one of the slowly deflating helium ‘Get Well’ balloons which still listed lazily around the silver weight that held it in place. With a small pair of scissors, you cut the ribbon tether and lanced the mylar in an inconspicuous place. Pressing the balloon to your chest, you squeezed out the remainder of the helium air mix and added the now flat balloon to the pile of other flattened balloons. 

‘So? Then what are you going to do about it?’ Barb continued to press.  ‘Leave and regret never having said anything?’’

You stopped compacting the pile of deflated balloons and turned to look at her. 

This whole budding romance thing between two war torn lovers must have been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to the nurse, you thought pleasantly. It was certainly exciting to you. So, you cut her some slack. 

‘I just happen to know that he’s outside in the pool area right now. And, you have some time before your flight.’ 

The look on her face was both encouraging and infuriating. 

Smiling, you walked to the door and patted Barb’s shoulder. 

‘All right. I’ll go.’

She waggled her brows, turned and walked with you down the narrow corridor and then through the half-empty dayroom. She stopped at the double glass doors that led to the pool area and used her weight to press open one side.

‘I can’t tell if you’re a really good matchmaker or a really bad matchmaker,’ you said absently. 

She shrugged.  

‘Good luck, and don’t be too hard on him.’ 

‘I won’t. Well, I probably won’t. Well...I can’t promise.’ 

She chuckled and quickly gave you a one-armed hug. 

‘I’ll have them bring your bags to the car when it turns up. There are a few people going to the airport with you. So if I don’t see you… keep in touch, ok?’

You nodded and walked through the open door. 

The pool area, as they called it, was really just a collection of beach umbrellas shading colourful inflatable kiddie pools, some blowup flamingos, and an odd assortment of mismatched lawn chairs. There were several men camped out around most of the medium sized pools, with their feet in the water and enjoying each other’s company. You spotted Henry right off the bat, as he was the only one still in a wheelchair and paused a moment to watch him laugh at something the man next to him had just said. You were loath to interrupt them. 

I’ll just leave a note, you thought, turning your back to the men in order to return to the day room. He won’t mind. I’ll leave a note and my business card so he won’t feel pressured to say anything to my face.

A little lost in thought, you lingered there for a moment, with your hand on the door handle when your thoughts were interrupted by a chorus of teasing male voices calling out your name, accompanied by whistles and several coquettish sounding ‘yoo-hoo!’s. 

A wave of heat rushed into your face and you hunched your shoulders in a self-conscious cringe. 

Jesus Christ you hated military men sometimes.

 But you had been caught and you had no other choice but to turn around and face them. 

One of the men kicked out the empty lawn chair closest to Syverson and waved you over. Taking the invitation, you drew the chair close to the circle, lightly rested your hand on Henry’s shoulder and sat down next to him. It was good to see him looking so well. 

‘I read your new article,’ said the man, and by deciphering his medical wristband you learned he was called Solensky. ‘That was a damn brave thing you did.’ 

You shook your head and looked at Syverson, hoping that he didn’t think you were trying to steal glory.

‘I didn’t write it to showcase what I did. I had to tell people what really happened. How heroic the men were. And my partner. The sacrifices that they all made. What I did wasn’t important.’

‘Saving my life wasn’t important?’ 

Syverson sounded a little bit hurt and turning to him you were at a loss to read his suddenly cloudy expression. 

You opened your mouth to protest. 

‘I-- I didn’t mean that you… of course you are important. I just did what I had to.’

You held his incredulous gaze and continued, ‘you know that, Henry.’

Didn’t he believe you?

‘He don’t mean it like that,’ said Solensky. ‘He means that, you doing what you did, was important. Even if you don’t think it was.’ 

Henry obviously agreed with the man’s assessment, for a smile lifted the corner of his mouth and you cut a relieved and fondly exasperated  look at him. Sitting back in the creaky lawn chair you kicked your feet out in front of you and rested them against the cushy rounded pool edge. 

‘Thank you,’ you said finally and nodded to Solensky. ‘I had hoped to get it finished and published before I left.’ 

It felt good to hear some praise from the men you were trying to uplift. 

‘You leaving soon?’ he asked. 

‘Yes. Today. In a few hours in fact.’

You turned to face Henry again. 

‘I wanted to say goodbye before I did.’ 

His face remained unreadable and you feared that you had upset him in some way.

The door to the dayroom opened and Barb called to you. 

‘The car is here early. They have to do more stops, so you’ll have to leave now, I’m sorry.’

You shot Syverson a panicked look. 

Now? But you didn’t say all you wanted to say. You didn’t have time!

‘Ok,’ Henry said finally. ‘You don’t want to keep them waiting or they’re gonna have you walking home.’ 

He pressed himself up and out of the wheelchair and breathing a little hard from the exertion, he faced you when you stood as well.

‘I’m in your debt. Whenever you need me, for whatever reason, I want you to call on me. It don’t matter, you got that?’

‘I got it,’ you answered, feeling a deep pang of agony and regret in your gut. Leaving was harder than you had expected. 

Henry smiled then and curving his arms around you, he pulled you against his sun warmed body. 

And what torture it was for him to hold you like that! 

You put your head on his chest and embraced him in return. And, when you lifted your teary eyes, he leaned in and  kissed your forehead. But that wasn’t good enough. Not nearly enough and you squeezed him when his lips met yours. 

‘Ok… ok,’ you giggled, feeling hot faced and aroused. ‘You gotta stop that or I won’t be able to leave.’ 

He didn’t release you. 

‘You can stay and come home with me,’ he said, moving in for another kiss. 

You ducked your head and stepped out of his embrace. 

‘If you behave, maybe I will.’ 

Barb cleared her throat, a signal that you were out of time, and kissing him quickly, you turned to leave. 

‘Barb’ll give you my card. It’ll have my info on it.’

‘I will?’ she asked, glaring at you and then at him. ‘Boy, I’ll be glad when you leave and I can stop all of this note ferrying back and forth.’ 

‘See ya,’ said Henry. 

‘Soon,’ you promised and went through the day room doors. 

**

It had been six months. Six months of convalescing at home, writing columns and binge watching all of the television shows you missed while you were deployed. It had also been a pleasant six months of regular correspondence with Henry, which culminated in him asking you to come to the mountains with him for a few weeks. He had a little cabin in Montana which he had been renovating and now that Aika was finished with her mandatory quarantine in the States, he was going to go there and relax. 

A few weeks in the fresh mountain air was just what you needed and once you agreed, he made and paid for your travel arrangements. 

 **

It was refreshingly cool when you shuffled into the noise and chaos of the airport arrival terminal on your way to the baggage claim. However, you walked a little more leisurely than the hustling crowd, taking in the sights and idly people watching. As a journalist, although you had trekked through more airports than you cared to count, the peculiar culture of tiny, and expensive indoor pseudo-cities like this was still so compelling. It wouldn’t be strange to see a bleary eyed man chowing down on a stacked burger and swilling his third bourbon on the rocks at 6:30 in the morning. Or seeing a grown woman tucked into an awkward corner, and clutching her carry-on bag protectively in front of her as she tried to catch some sleep during an unexpected flight delay.

You had been both of those people at one point or another in your travels. But there was another reason why you were strolling and taking your time examining the mass produced keychains and tee shirts proclaiming the name of the state you were in. You were nervous and your heart banged painfully against your ribs. You could feel it galloping and straining against its internal tethers and you had to stop occasionally and pretend to look at overpriced pizza slices in order to catch your breath.

You were nervous about seeing him again. That sweet, unfairly handsome Captain Henry Syverson.

The thought of him made you smile but you pressed it into a straight neutral line in the event someone was watching. You didn’t want to seem crazy, grinning down at a display case of heat-lamp warmed slices of cheese pizza. 

When you finally reached baggage claim, a man, dressed in a dark suit and white shirt was waiting for you. He stood  with the rest of the chauffeurs looking bored and holding an open tablet on which your name stood out in bold block letters on the screen. You walked expectantly up to him and he smiled and greeted you by name.

‘How was your trip?’ he asked, as he walked  with you to the baggage carousel.

‘It was fine, thank you.’

And the two of you stood side by side watching the conveyor belt start to move and roll out the luggage.

‘Which one is yours?’ he asked, moving closer to the belt, ready to snag your bag as it tumbled by.

‘The red one, with the white stripe. It has the camera shaped luggage tag.’

He nodded and when that red bag came by, he grabbed it by the side handle. He then put it down, pulled up the telescoped handle and indicated that you follow him to the parking lot. Outside, the cool air woke you from your flight induced stupor and you took in a long cleansing breath. 

‘First time in Montana?’ he asked, grinning as he watched you stretch your arms and back. 

‘Just tired,’ you said. ‘Long flight.’ 

He opened the door to the glossy black SUV and helped you step up into the high spotless interior. Through the back window you watched him stow your suitcase in the trunk and followed him with your eyes until he climbed into the truck.

‘So,’ he said and fiddled with his tablet. ‘It’s going to take a little while to get to the destination. Is it warm enough for you? Too warm? There are snacks in the centre console and water under the seat. Do you mind if I have the radio on?’

The questions seemed rehearsed and you assured him that everything was fine before you sat back into the plush leather seats and he drove off.

Taking out your mobile, you switched it off of airplane mode and it immediately pinged that you had a message.

Making sure you landed safely.

You smiled and replied that you had done just that and were already on your way.

I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re hungry.

The driver was right. It took two and a half hours to get to the cabin and the last mile or so was on a dirt road so pitted and bumpy that you weren’t sure you were going to come out of the ride in one piece.

But it was all made better when you spotted Henry standing with Aika on the broad porch of a gorgeous mountain cabin. When he said that he wanted you to spend time with him at the cabin, you immediately pictured it to be a one or two room Little House on the Prairie type place. Which was absolutely fine with you, as you wouldn’t be there to admire the decor. However, you were not expecting the beautiful structure that stood proudly amongst the trees.

The driver slowed, made an awkward k-turn in the dirt and deposited you directly in front of the tall man approaching the truck.

The sight of Henry made you feel weak and proud to show the driver that you had been chosen by a superior specimen. Henry briefly spoke to the driver through his open window and the trunk popped open. With hands clasped in your lap, you waited. Henry grabbed your suitcase, slammed shut the trunk and then opened your door. He positively beamed at you and when you took his outstretched hand, you felt like a princess being rescued from a high tower.

When the SUV made its way back down the dirt road and the two of you were finally alone, you were faced with one of two decisions.

One: behave in your usual awkward way and shake his hand or pat his shoulder and thank him for letting you come and visit.

Or

Two: press into his arms and give him the biggest hello I fucking missed you, kiss he’d ever received.

With some internal dismay, you found yourself leaning towards option one. You didn’t want to lead him to the wrong impression about you and slowly you extended your hand.

A look of surprise drifted across his face, but he was apparently willing to follow your lead. Before he could take that hand, you had a change of heart and instead ran straight at him and clamped your arms about his waist.

‘Hey, baby,’ he murmured, kissing the top of your head and enveloping you in his strong arms.

Oh God, you thought. I’m gonna start crying.

Tears pricked your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you heaved with a desperate sob.

‘What’s the matter?!’ he asked, sounding alarmed with the sudden change in your attitude.

You clutched him tighter and put your face against him.

‘I’m… I’m so happy to see you standing right here,’ you gasped.

The last time you’d seen him in the flesh, he had still been mostly confined to a wheelchair, still healing from his terrible wounds and unable to look after himself. But there he was now, strong and whole and so warm in your arms that you felt an overwhelming sense of affection for him. 

Henry held you tighter and you felt infinitely safe in his embrace. Everything was right with the world. 

‘I thought about the moment I could do this,’ he said, gently stroking your back. ‘And now I made you cry.’

‘I’m just so happy to see you well,’ you said, pulling back and looking at his wryly smiling face. ‘And not hooked up to wires and IVs.’

‘Ok,’ he drawled. ‘Me too. In that case…’

He curved one hand about your cheek and lifting your face, he kissed you. It took a few more moments of cuddling before you eventually stopped trembling and having an existential crisis. He drew back, bent down and picked up your bag. 

‘You hungry?’ he asked, slipping his hand down to your lower back and guiding you to the glorious cabin. 

‘Famished!’ you announced and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 

The dog on the porch sat up and wriggled with pleasure, her thick furry tail whapping excitedly on the wooden boards. 

Henry dragged his fingers through the thick brown and black scruff and scratched her angular head. The dog bowed and flattened her ears softly and approached you. You put both hands on her head and massaged her fluffy ears. 

‘I remember you,’ you said to the dog who continued to eagerly lick at your hands.

‘This place is different than where she’s from, but she loves it.’ 

Then to Aika he said, ‘stay on the porch.’

And the dog promptly flopped down on the cushiony bed made from folded quilts and began her surveillance of the surrounding tranquil woods. 

Henry opened the cabin door and ushered you in. 

The inside was just as spectacular as the outside and your mouth came open with surprise. 

‘I know you did all of this, didn’t you. It’s so… beautiful.’

‘I had help,’ he answered modestly. ‘It’s been a work in progress for years. Still got some things to do, but it’s liveable.’

Liveable, you scoffed silently. That was an understatement. The place was an obviously handcrafted masterpiece. From the matte blonde wood flooring and the warm caramel panelling, it was a masculine tribute to a rustic lifestyle. The appliances were new, but understatedly retro and wood burning. The main living room was broad and comfortable with soft couches and homespun appointments. You followed Henry down a narrow hallway to the left. Off of that hallway was a short staircase that led to the upper floor. 

‘There’s a guest bedroom down there,’ he said pointing to the door at the end of the corridor and the master is upstairs.’

He gestured that you go up the stairs and you complied. Opening the door at the top of the stairs, you found yourself walking into a bright warm room with a large bed facing a broad clean window that overlooked the trees and the lake behind the cabin. It smelt of pine and you wondered if he picked that scent because he thought you might like it. You did like it. 

Henry put your bag on the floor by the bed. 

‘This is your room.’ 

He rested a hand on the glossy dresser top which had been pushed against the far wall. 

‘You can put your stuff in here, or hang them up in the closet.’ 

He opened the door next to the dresser to show you the empty closet space. 

‘Bathroom’s over here.’ 

He crossed the room, opened the second door and you poked your head in, pleased to see a full bath and tub.

That tub might come in handy for sexytimes. 

Once the tour was completed you smiled at him, but left the question of where he was going to stay to burn on the tip of your tongue. 

It didn’t stay there long for Henry beat you to it. 

‘I’ll be downstairs… in the guest room.’ 

There was hesitation in his voice and he trailed off seeming suddenly shy and awkward. 

Was he as nervous about your visit as you were?

 He didn’t look at you as he put a hand against the back of his head, which you knew  was an unconscious self-soothing gesture. But you didn’t want to put him out of his misery just yet. You were enjoying it too much. 

‘If… when you need me,’ he finished.  

The implication of needing him, at night, hung heavily in the air and trailing a finger up his bare forearm, you squashed a smile. 

‘And you’ll be downstairs…’ you said, keeping your voice serious and your expression neutral. ‘If… I mean when I need you. You’ll be downstairs? In the guest bedroom? Downstairs?’

He looked at you a moment, his own expression a mild mix of confusion and then that sweet slow bloom of understanding in his eyes. You saw the exact moment that he realised you were teasing him and you couldn’t help laughing. 

‘C’mon you,’ you said, slipping your hand into his. ‘I’m starving.’ 

***

Once downstairs, he packed a big red-topped cooler with vegetables and potatoes and steaks that had been marinating overnight, as well as cutlery, plates and other sundry items. Carrying only a chilled six pack of bottled lager, you followed him down the winding gravel path to the lake. There was a rustic firepit down there flanked by two dark wood adirondack chairs and a picnic table. 

You wondered if he made all of that himself and then chuckled. Of course he did.

 You watched him dump the cooler next to the grated firepit and go to grab a few already split logs from a nearby pile. Clutching the thin cardboard handle of the sixpack in both hands you felt unbearably girly and unwilling to admit that watching him start a fire with a small pile of tinder and a magnesium firestick, aroused the fuck out of you. It didn’t help that his jeans stretched nicely across his thighs when he crouched lower and gently blew onto the young flame before quickly adding additional fuel until the fire was stable enough to tent the logs over it. 

Henry rose and dusted his hands against the seat of his jeans and you cleared your throat. 

‘That was sexy,’ you said and laughed at your own audacity. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, clearly appreciative of your praise, but instead of addressing it, he pointed to the short pier. 

‘Do you see the green nylon sack over there?’

You looked and nodded. 

‘Take the bottles and put ‘em in the sack and lower it into the water. That’ll keep ‘em cold.’ 

Feeling helpful, you did as you were told. When you returned a few minutes later, you hoisted yourself up onto the top of the picnic table and rested your feet on the bench seat.

‘Do you want some help?’ you asked after a moment. 

‘Nope,’ he answered, and cast another amused look at you over his shoulder. ‘You just sit there and be pretty for me, ok?’

You preened, and lightly patted your face. It was as pretty as you were going to get. 

‘I think I can do that. Sure.’ 

And you sat there thinking about having children with him. You imagined taking them on camping trips and teaching them all of the survival skills they needed to fend for themselves in the event the zombie apocalypse drove your family into the woods. So you asked him if he was prepared for the apocalypse and sat there rapt as he explained his six point plan and how he had been planning and storing for the last three years. 

When dinner was ready, the two of you ate at the picnic table and drank most of the beer and discussed the pros and cons of wasting ammo to achieve a head shot as opposed to just disabling the zombie so that you could escape it. 

‘Yeah, but you are the one who’s gonna get the successful headshots. I’m just out there swinging a rake or something.’ 

‘Can get you a katana if you like.’

You laughed and swigged your beer. Pointing the mouth of the bottle at him you scoffed. 

‘A katana?? I’d more likely slice myself up before I’d do any damage to a zombie.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Henry replied easily and stood up to stoke the fire. 

He helped himself to another few spoonfuls of vegetables, which when offered, you declined. 

‘A little training and some practice, you’d be fine.’ 

‘You have a lot of misplaced faith in me, sir,’ you teased him. 

Henry was quick to answer. 

‘You’re wrong. You already proved to be capable, ingenious and tougher than you think. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.’

Your chest tightened at the traumatic  memory and you stared down at your empty bottle.  The helpless tears started to threaten again. 

But biting them back, you reached across the table and put your hand over his. Henry took it, curved your fingers over his and brought your hand to his lips.

Henry’s open emotion made you feel just as raw and vulnerable as you had that fateful day. The day that entwined your lives together forever. 

You reached for him with your other hand and stroked his cheek, trailing your fingers through his beard which continued to amaze you with how soft it was to touch. He captured your other hand and kissed that one as well and then held them both. And when he smiled, you smiled in return. It was all right now. 

It was starting to get dark and across the lake,  you could see the setting sun disappearing behind the mountains. Henry got up and began clearing the table. 

 ‘ Go and sit by the fire,’ he instructed you when you tried to help. 

If he wanted to do all of the work, who were you to stop him. You slid onto the cool chair and drew your knees up and to the side to get comfortable just as Aika came trotting out of the woods. She went immediately to you and put her slobbery chin on your thigh. You rubbed her furry head until she was tired of the attention and went to beg scraps from Henry. 

‘Coffee?’ he asked a moment later and lifted an old battered tin percolator to show you that he meant coffee and not anything else. 

‘I could have one, sure.’ 

You had got used to black coffee during your time on the front and really never bothered to change it when you went back to civilian life. The cup he gave you was hot and tasted fresh with a hint of vanilla. 

‘Vanilla,’ you said and he chuckled, seating himself in the chair next to you. 

‘I ah… I got used to it over there, now I can’t drink any other kind.’ 

You didn’t mind it. Not at all and the two of you sat in companionable silence. 

‘It’s a beautiful place, Henry. A beautiful cabin. I am amazed that you did all of this.’

‘My friends helped. This is their place when they want it too.’

Aika flopped down on the space between the chairs and Henry reached down to pat her head. 

‘Are you glad I’m here?’ you asked finally, admittedly fishing a little for compliments. 

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m very glad you’re here.’ 

You were going to say something else but a yawn caught you off guard. Now that you were full and content and safe, sleepiness began to creep in around the corners. 

‘You had a long flight,’ Henry offered as explanation, holding out his hand to take your cup. ‘If you want to go on in to sleep, I’ll take care of things here out here.’ 

‘No! No, I don’t want to leave. I’m not too sleepy.’ 

‘Awright,’ he chuckled and leaned back into the chair. 

Aika yawned then and you did the same. You put the cup on the flat arm of the chair and closed your eyes. You had never felt so happy and before you knew it, you had drifted off. When you woke with a start later, it was dark and the fire had been extinguished. A glimmer of faint stars reflected by the lake was your only anchor point that confirmed where you were. 

But it was the type of dark that could only be achieved when there was no light pollution from nearby cities and you felt a twinge of panic. 

‘Henry?’ you called sitting up. 

He wasn’t in the chair next to you and Aika was gone. 

Shit! What if the killer was still out there?

You heard footsteps approaching on the gravel path. 

‘I’m here.’ 

His voice was warm and steady. 

There was no moon and standing, you blindly searched in front of you as he came closer. He put his hand around you, resting it low on your back then pulled you to him. At his touch, a jolt of welcomed pleasure spread out from your core. 

‘Why are you out here lurking in the dark?’ you giggled softly, pressing your hands flat on his chest.

‘Making sure nothing carries you off,’ he replied just as quietly and gave you a squeeze. 

Henry was clearly feeling for the edges of your boundaries and you deeply appreciated that about him. He hadn’t forced your hand and he was eagerly playing by your rules. 

‘I’m glad to have my big strong protector to save me from the monsters. Are you… gonna take me inside now?’

‘Yeah. C’mon.’ 

God, his voice was so unbearably soft and alluring and you knew that if you weren’t careful, you would find yourself beneath him in his bed tonight. 

You had to be careful, so once inside the cabin, you kissed him and bade him goodnight. Admittedly, that probably wasn’t how he expected the evening to end but you knew you were going to make the wait worth his while.

After showering thoroughly, you changed your clothes and sat down on the edge of the soft bed. The cabin was quiet except for the normal sounds of the woods coming in through the open window and the sounds of Henry moving around downstairs. 

I could get used to this. 

After a moment you heard the shower running downstairs and you immediately worried that you hadn’t left enough hot water for him. Stretching out on top of the quilt you listened and imagined his naked body, his wet, soapy naked body and a tingle raced up your thighs and pooled insistent heat in your groin. You bit your lip and pushed your hand between your legs. You held your hand there, still and unmoving and listened until everything had fallen silent on the lower floor.  

You breathed quietly, in and out and in and out again and relaxed, drawing your hand away and tucking it across your midsection. 

Sleep, you thought. It was all going to be more rational in the morning. 

**

Bright sunlight and sweet bird songs greeted you the next morning. After washing up, you followed the scent of coffee and breakfast downstairs. 

The front room was empty, but there was food and a still steaming coffee pot on the stove. The sound of Aika barking outside led you to the door and then out onto the porch. Henry stood at the bottom of the steps holding a red ball which he launched into the air for the dog to chase. He turned when you came to stand next to him. 

‘Morning,’ he grinned and kissed you when you lifted your face to ask for it. 

‘Hi. How did you sleep?’

‘Yeah, good, good. You?’

You stretched in the warm morning sunlight and fondly watched Aika race back to you. She dropped the ball and danced away, to wait for the next missile. Henry obliged and the dog took off again. 

‘It was better than I expected,’ you admitted happily. ‘It usually takes me a couple of nights before I can get comfortable in a new place.’ 

He nodded and took a drink from his flowered cup. 

‘Good. Hungry?’

‘I love that you’re always feeding me,’ you said joyfully. ‘Can we eat down by the lake?’

‘Anything you want, baby,’ he agreed. 

The air by the lake was warm and fresh and a few metres out on the water was a group of ducks having a morning swim. Basking in the sun with a hearty meal and an intriguing and funny man was the most indulgent thing you could have possibly done. And you held onto the moment for as long as it presented itself. 

You even agreed to a short easy hike after breakfast and in a sun drenched meadow you lay in the sweet smelling grass and talked about nothing in particular. 

The day passed in uneventful bliss and again, Henry prepared dinner over the fire and afterwards the two of you sat side by side on the top porch step to watch some unexpected fireworks in the eastern sky. 

During a lull in the colourful explosions, you went inside to grab a seat cushion.

When you came onto the porch, you were careful not to kick the cup at Henry’s side. Instead you picked up your own cup and gesturing for him to make room, you tossed down the cushion and sat on the step right between his knees. A little smile blossomed on your face, a response to the feeling of peace spreading through you, and you leaned back against Henry using his thighs as arm rests.

‘I like this,’ you said quietly and relaxed into the warm hands gently kneading your shoulders. 

‘Yeah.’

The sound of him, low and husky behind you, filled you with pleasure. You pressed harder between his open legs and he went still. This was the moment of truth.  Your heart thrummed with anticipation against your ribs and when he relaxed, so did you. 

A beat of silence drifted between you and then he spoke. 

‘You wanna go inside with me?’

There was a loud scratching sound of your nails raking along his jeans, evidence of your involuntary reaction to his clear invitation. 

‘Yes. I-- want to.’ 

The breath he let out was audible. 

‘C’mon then.’ 

Henry pushed himself up from the step and effortlessly lifted you in the process. It was like floating on air, reckless yet safe in his strong arms and when your feet finally hit the porch, you were loath to be released. You turned around to face him and slid your arms about his neck. The force of his kiss surprised you, and you clung tighter to him, opening your mouth to take all of him in. Henry pulled you against him and walked backwards towards the cabin door. 

You cried out with delight when he crouched and swept you up into his arms. Just like the charming prince he touted himself to be. 

‘I love this,’ you murmured, nipping at his lower lip and then suckling it between your own. ‘Why don’t you fuck me in your bed.’

‘Fuck,’ he groaned and clutched you to his chest. ‘You’re gonna drive me crazy, baby.’ 

‘I promise I’ll drive you crazy.’ 

Henry didn’t waste time in carrying you to the small bedroom at the end of the hall.  

His room was clean, and quiet. Not as fancy as the master bedroom, but it was  enough with its bed and bureau and the small adjoining shower. Aika, who had been napping on the floor at the foot of the bed perked up and cautiously thumped her tail as if wondering why the hell the two humans were making so much noise. 

‘Aika,’ said Henry desperately. ‘Out!’

With a groan of a petulant child, the dog heaved herself up and reluctantly left the room. Henry booted the door shut behind her and then set you down onto your feet. There was enough gloaming light coming in through the windows for you to see him grin. 

He cupped your face between his hands and kissed you gently, thoroughly and then let his fingers trail down over your shoulders, your arms and then across your waist where he curled his fingers beneath the hem of your baggy tee shirt. Instinctively you raised your arms when he lifted the shirt up and over your head. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner. He then  turned you around and unhooked your bra which was also tossed to join the shirt. And still keeping your back to him, he kissed your shoulder and then the other and then kissed the space between them. The light scratch of his beard on such an unexpectedly tender place made you shiver and your nipples harden. He hummed quietly, a sound of absolute satisfaction and he nipped you lightly where your shoulder sloped down to your collarbone. You sighed voluptuously and leaned into his muscular chest, turning your upper body slightly and reaching back to smooth your hand over his head. 

Henry slipped his hands up from your waist and cupped your bare breasts and kissed you deeply as if trying to drink in every bit of you. You felt utterly possessed, and helpless in the face of his overwhelmingly masculine sexual power. You would give him everything, anything and all he had to do was ask. 

He slid his hands down your belly again and into the elastic waistband of your shorts. He eased them over your hips and chased your curves to the warm, velvety space between your legs. Highly aware of his two thick fingers beginning to work into your wetness you arched and moaned breathlessly, your voice rising sweetly into the warmth of the room. A dark knowing chuckle rumbled behind you and Henry dragged his tongue across your lower lip. 

All of your attention narrowed to that single delicious focal point of those deft fingers stroking your quivering clit and sliding deeper inside you. 

‘I want you,’ Henry murmured and the demand behind his words made you shudder. ‘I want you so bad.’ 

Yes, you thought. I want you. The moment I met you, I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.

You turned in his arms and a wave of lust crashed over you at the sight of him. He slipped those two previous busy fingers into his mouth and sucked off your juice. You crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer as you backed towards the bed. Henry whipped off his shirt and took his time unbuckling his belt and shoving down his jeans until he could stand beautifully naked before you, his thick beautiful cock hard and standing at the ready. 

You were ready for him indeed. Henry closed the space between you and grabbing you about the waist, he hoisted you up and sprawled you messily across the bed. You sat up, reached for him and dragged him down atop you. He was heavy, and pressed you steadily into the soft sheets and you never wanted to escape him. Henry kissed you hard, punishingly, muffling your sudden cry of pleasure with his mouth. You hugged and kissed him and swore under your breath, eager for the soft velvety feel of his  blood-hot cock sliding up along your inner thigh. 

‘Come inside me, Henry.’ 

It was all the invitation he needed. 

The newness of him sliding into you hurt just a little, a small but  welcomed reminder of what it meant when two lovers finally joined. Henry stilled then, and breathed quietly, as if fighting his urge to cum. You stroked his shoulders and kissed his face, encouraging him to focus only on you. He lifted his head and held your gaze as he rocked up into you again, then again, slowly and deliberately, stoking that fire smouldering between the two of you. You arched against him, vaguely aware of your own lusty sounds and Henry increased the intensity of his thrusts and in turn heightened the ferocity of your pleasure.

Henry lit your fuse and it consumed you. It crackled over your sensitive flesh and along every nerve ending and you responded eagerly to every slow drag of his cock in and out of you.  He made you feel alive, more alive than ever before and at the moment of your orgasm you closed your eyes and let his name escape your lips, offering it up as a prayer, as praise. As thanks. 

You held onto him when he finally completed the circuit and poured himself inside you. 

It took several moments of panting beneath him before Henry moved off of you and you immediately felt the loss. So you lay there, sweat cooling on your skin and basking in the warm feelings of well being. When your senses returned, you got up and went to the bathroom for  a quick pee and wash up and when you returned, the bed was turned down and you crawled gratefully beneath the soft sheets. 

‘That was fucking amazing,’ you murmured to the man next to you. ‘That was the best sex I have ever had.’ 

Henry chuckled and sounded pleased. 

‘Yeah. I waited a long time for you.’ 

‘Oh yeah? The moment I put my hand in yours outside of the barracks, you what? Wanted to carry me off to fuck me?’

He grunted. 

‘Yeah! Something like that. I would’ve at least got your name first, /then/ put you over my shoulder and carried you off.’ 

You smiled to yourself and imagined the scene and how shocked the men would have been to watch their stoic captain haul off the journalist for a little fun. You closed your eyes, only intending to get more comfortable to continue the conversation. However, again sleep had other ideas. 

Light burst behind your eyelids and the sound of shouting male voices filled your ears. You struggled to open your eyes, but something was holding them sealed shut. Another explosion and then the sound of rocks raining down all around you. I’m on fire, you thought, desperately trying to claw your way out of burning clothes. Your hands were already seared into talons of fused flesh and bone and there was nothing you could do to stop the pain. Sand blasted your vulnerable flesh and you opened your mouth to scream, only to be choked by tiny merciless shards of hot glass. You continued to scream and scream barely aware of the hands on your arms and the voice calling you name. It was Henry and he was shaking you out of your nightmare. 

‘You’re all right, baby. You’re all right,’ he murmured pulling you against him. ‘It’s just a nightmare. You’re all right now. I’m here.’ 

As the dream melted away, you curled up into his arms and burst into tears. Henry gentled you until you quieted and even beyond that until eventually you were able to speak. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry…’ 

‘Don’t be sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t be. I’m here. I’ll protect you.’ 

You lifted your tear wet face and kissed him. Then again and again, rolling onto your back and pulling him with you. 

‘Make love to me, Henry. Please. Make love to me.’

‘I’ll take care of you,’ he promised.

And you trusted him to do just that. 

**

The morning rain kept the two of you inside the snug cabin and in bed where you took your time exploring and delighting in the mystery of each other. 

‘Does it still hurt?’ you asked, pulling back the sheets and stroking your fingers along the thick jagged scar that cut across his lower belly.  

Henry looked down at where you were touching him and shook his head. 

‘No. Not anymore.’ 

You fell silent, listening to the rasp of your dry fingers gliding across his skin. Henry curled an arm about you when you put your head on his shoulder. 

‘You never went to talk to someone about it, did you.’ 

It wasn’t a question and as much as you wanted to feign ignorance, you couldn’t shut down your immediate and visceral reaction to his observation. 

No. You had buried yourself in work the moment you got back to the States and didn’t want to think about the trauma that had befallen you. What was the point? It was over, wasn’t it?

Henry felt your body tense and he rubbed your back. 

‘That’s why you’re still having nightmares.’ 

Your voice was small when you spoke, hoping to be heard against the lashing rain. 

‘I thought I could handle it.’ 

He chuckled. 

‘I know. I thought I could handle it too. They don’t let us go home without group therapy. I fucking hate it, but I do it, because it works.’ 

You stopped the back and forth motion of your hand and just rested it on his scar. It was the thing that drew you together, the thing that reminded him of you.

Henry turned his head and kissed your forehead. 

‘You’re so strong. And you’re carrying this weight. But you gotta let it go, baby.’  

‘I know. I… dream about you dying in the explosion and then burning to death. I can’t stop it. I can’t help you.’

Henry held you close. 

‘You’re alive and I’m alive. I’m right here with you. You don’t have to worry when you’re with me.’

 You slept against his chest for most of the day and dreamed, not of violence in a desolate place but of a bright new future. 

-end part 5 you naughty little things. I love you ;D Please consider helping me to broaden my audience by reblogging this fic and sharing. Thank you. 

Tag list:  @lightsidecalling​​  @omgkatinka​​ @igotkatiepowers​​ @the-soot-sprite​​  @harrysthiccthighss​​ @little-green-love​​ @foxyjwls007​​  @angreav​​ @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous​​ @laketaj24​​ @october505​​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​​ @foodieforthoughts​​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​​ @singeramg​​ @sapphirescrolls​​   @brandycranby​​ @zealoushound​​ @eldarwen333​​ @beck07990​​ @lunedelorient​​ @henrythickcavill​​ @kalesrebellion​​​ @angrythingstarlight​​​ @lavitabella87 @kebabgirl67​ @hail-horror-queen​

[reluctant-mandalore]

Platonic Cuddles (Din Djarin x Reader)

Warnings: Platonic, no romance (could be read as romantic but its meant as just friends, hint the title lol), angst, fluff, hurt/comfort (din needs hugs). Not beta read

Word Count: 1270

Pairing: Din Djarin & gn!Reader - (readers gender is never specified/uses gender neutral pronouns)

a/n: Hey y’all! I got this for you today (and maybe some hcs??? we’ll see) This is part of my 900 followers celebration! We’re actually at 1616 followers right now, but I’m still working away at this prompt list. Please feel free to send in more prompts! I can’t be finished with it until I’ve done each cuddle prompt at least once! 

The Mandalorian sat on one of the crates in the hull, his unsteady gaze focused on the hammock where the child now slept. His thoughts were consumed with a muddled haze and his mouth felt dry with each breath he took. The grip he held on his knees was unyielding, as it was the only thing keeping him from shaking in that moment.

It was safe to say that he was not handling what happened earlier today well at all.

Din had never reacted like this to anything before, usually managing to bottle up his feelings to keep them in. He really wasn’t acting like himself in the slightest, he almost felt like an imposter as he sat there alone in the hull. He supposed this would be a normal reaction for someone who had almost lost the most important person to him, but for him it was deafening and made him feel like he was losing control.

“Din?”

Your voice had brought him back from his trance and he looked over at you slowly. His features were unreadable beneath the helmet, but you could still feel the pain that was held in their depth. The sight of his sombre form had made your heart quiver with sadness, and you carefully moved over to stand in front of him. Before you could speak again though, he had spoken first, his words becoming a heavy weight to rest over you both.

“I almost lost him today.” He had said quietly, his voice barely sounding out through the modulator as he spoke. His gaze had drifted over again to the child sleeping and he had felt his heart tumble with guilt at remembering the days earlier events. He had almost lost the child to another bounty hunter—a close call which now made him feel broken inside.

“I know.” You had replied, a frown finding itself etched across your lips, “But he’s ok now.”

“I’m a horrible father.” He had continued without thought, looking away again to his boots, his eyes beginning to brim with tears. “He shouldn’t be in my care.”

“Oh Din, don’t say that.” You said, moving closer to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “You know that’s not true! You’re a wonderful father.”

“Wonderful?” The word had left him bitterly and he shook off your hand before standing. “He could have died! And it would have been my fault. What kind of father allows that to happen?”

“Din...”

“My whole purpose is to protect him! It’s my duty to make sure he’s ok and that he’s safe.” His tone had become laced with anger and grief, though you knew it wasn’t directed at you in particular. Rather, it was being directed at himself. His frustration with how close he had come to losing the child—his son—finally spilling over the edge and flowing out. “I can’t lose him… he’s everything to me.”

“I know that Din, and he knows that too.” You had said, giving his hand a squeeze before guiding him back to sit on the crate,“Here... why don’t I go get you something to eat? You haven’t eaten since we got back and some food will do you some good. We can talk more afterwards, ok?”

The Mandalorian didn’t reply from your words at first, only nodding his head as he found himself staring off into the distance again. He was hungry. His stomach had rolled in pain at its emptiness, but even so, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to want any food. He had felt too tired to move and only wanted to remain in a heap on the crates—a growing need for comfort now tugging at his thoughts.

“Wait.” His voice and sudden grasp on your wrist keeping you from leaving. His body and mind now working on autopilot, as it sought to fix the tumbling emotions inside of him.

You had completely paused at feeling his hand grasp your wrist, turning to look over at the man before you once more. “What is it?”

“Can you just… hold me for a minute?” He had said suddenly, a blush soon finding itself to his cheeks at the realization of his words. Even sooner he had let go of your arm as if he had been burned. His words becoming muddled and rolling together as he tried to back track on what he had said. “I- that sounded weird. Just forget about it...”

Your arms had wrapped around him in an instant though, cutting off his next thoughts as you embraced him in a tight hug. The Mandalorian had melted into your touch almost immediately, his body becoming slack and molding into your arms. His emotional barriers now beginning to crumble away completely, while you had begun to try and sooth the tortured man.

“It’s not weird at all Din,” You had whispered, your words soft and kind with each syllable spoken, “Sometimes we just need someone we trust to be there and to hold us.”

The Mandalorian’s own hands had came up to cling to the back of your shirt by this point, holding onto you like he was afraid that you’d let go and leave him. His head had buried itself into the crook of your neck, the metal of his helmet feeling cool against your skin as he did. The tears he had been trying to hold back were now falling, rolling down his cheeks in fat drops, as he silently cried.

You had held the Mandalorian like that for a long while, allowing for him to work through his emotions while seeking your comfort. One of your hands had rubbed in soothing circles over his back, making his muscles relax underneath your fingertips. His mind starting to clear and his emotions settling with each passing minute he had spent huddled in your arms.

“Thank you.” He had managed to get out after beginning to feel better, “I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me Din.” You had said, adjusting yourself so he fit against you more comfortably, “I’m your friend. It’s what I’m here for.”

The two of you had sat in another drawn out silence after your words, the only sound in the hull being that of both your steady breaths. Din had sunk more into your embrace, the dried salty trails on his cheeks being the only evidence of his tears. A new feeling of calmness had come over him, your warmth surrounding him in what felt like a protective layer. Soon he had felt his eyes beginning to feel heavy, his mind drifting closer to dreamland the longer he stayed in your hold.

Din had fallen asleep in your arms not too long after, his head cradled into the crook of your neck still as he snored softly. Tiredness had begun edging at your own mind, and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open as well. The crate was definitely not the most comfortable place to rest by any means, but not wanting to disturb the man in your arms, you had settled yourself in for a nap on it anyways.

Being friends with one of the fiercest warriors in the Galaxy wasn’t easy, but moments like these reminded you of just how human he was underneath all that armor. He was just a simple man who wanted the best for his son, and as his friend, you’d do anything to help make sure that happened. Even if there wasn’t much you could do to take away his pain—you’d always be there to hold and comfort him.

That’s what friends were for after all.

[thepointoftheneedle]

Happy New Year!

I wrote a little New Year’s Eve one shot.  It’s below the cut or you can read it on AO3 here.  (I’ve started a collection of short pieces just to keep things tidy.) I hope you are all able to celebrate safely and I wish you a healthy and happy 2021.

It was obvious that the party was going off the rails as soon as Archie started lining up shots along the whole length of the marble counter top.  He called Reggie out and Reggie never backed down from a challenge to his machismo so they both worked their way along the little bullets of stupid until, breathless and belly laughing, they slid to the floor, their eyes swivelling in their dumb skulls like cartoon coyotes that had just been smashed over the head with an Acme anvil.  It was nine fifteen. Betty had wondered if Veronica would be mad about it but she seemed in the mood for some chaos as she set up two more lines of glasses opposite each other on the counter and challenged Cheryl who had never met an unnecessary drama she didn’t like.  

Betty had drunk a very pleasant glass of good champagne and had been contemplating having a couple more before midnight.  She’d never been a big drinker so for her that was cutting loose.  It had been, to put it crudely, a shit-show of a year and she was glad to see the back of it.  At the last New Year’s party she had been showing off a dazzling engagement ring, about to start the job that she had been expensively and laboriously trained for and she and her intended had signed the lease on a cute and well appointed apartment in Sunset Park which everyone said was the up and coming neighbourhood. The world had been unfolding for her like a flower.  Then the frost had come and scorched the petals with its chill. This year she was single, her job sometimes felt like it was eating her up and that cute apartment burned through every cent of her pay check now she had to make the rent alone.  It was possible that she was the saddest girl in a cocktail dress on the whole island of Manhattan, she was certainly the soberest person at the party.

An hour later the shots were completely out of hand and Betty had only just prevented Ethel from throwing up into the piano.  Moose made some half hearted effort to restore order, offering glasses of water, trying to start a game of Charades, but Kevin was in too mischievous a mood for his efforts to bear any fruit and instead they were embarking on Drunk Jenga, the rules of which seemed to be that you took a shot whenever you removed a block and then another when you placed it on top of the stack.  She imagined you took a shot if the tower fell but she didn’t stick around to find out.  She sidled over to where the Pol Roger was stacked, neglected,  in its very own champagne refrigerator and helped herself while everyone else was supporting the economy of Mexico by the prodigious consumption of Patron Silver.

She took her recharged glass to the window and looked out at the snowy expanse of Central Park far below.  It looked like the idealised interior of a snow globe, the air glassy and still and a huge yellow moon surveying its domain.  Betty remembered walking through the park with Trev last Christmas, bundled in a thick coat and scarf.  They’d held hands inside one of his mittens. They’d made snow angels.  They’d skated at the Wollman Rink and drunk hot chocolate afterwards.  Her life had been a cover image from a romance novel. This year she had spent Christmas being patronised by Polly’s constant offers of introductions to a succession of Jason’s frat brothers and golfing buddies.  Eventually she’d pointed out that if she’d wanted some obstructionist, bigoted blowhard she could have found one herself, without Polly’s oh so sympathetic intervention.  Polly cried and Betty apologised but she still wasn’t going to go on a date with a junior vice president of acquisitions even if he did have a weekend place in Connecticut.  She wouldn’t tolerate being paraded in front of prospective suitors like a prize dairy cow at the county show, not by Veronica and certainly not by her sister.

As she reminisced she became aware of Archie and Veronica deep in conversation in the corner of the room.  “We have a teeny emergenshy,” Veronica said, her hand on Archie’s forearm.  Veronica was never less than perfectly composed but that slur at the end of her word and the ramped up sincerity gave her away to her best friend. She was sozzled. “Only two bottles of Patron left and then the cupboard is bare. I may have over-ordered on the fizz and neglected the tequila.”

Archie nodded, taking the situation as seriously as his wife.  Then some kind of light dawned on his handsome face.  “We’ll get the magic doorman to get us some.  He’ll be on duty now.  I’ll go slip him a fifty and he’ll take care of it.”  He turned to reach for his wallet and promptly fell on his face. It was ten to eleven and all was decidedly not well.

Betty went over to help Archie off the rug.  He grinned even though his nose was bloody. “Ronnie, Betty’s all sober and sensible.  She can go talk to the wizard.  Here Betty, here’s fifty for a tip and Ronnie’ll give you her credit card for the booze.  Okay?  Shit I’m bleeding… still it’s not a party til something gets broke.”

V was looking at her imploringly now.  Somewhere there was the sound of glass smashing and Monroe’s attempt to do chin ups on the kitchen doorframe seemed to be bringing plaster down on the floor.  Betty would rather be almost anywhere than right here so she nodded at her friend.  "What do you need V?”

V explained that the building’s night doorman was a kind of fixer.  When Tom in 204 had forgotten his wife’s birthday Jones had got him a gluten free chiffon cake iced with her name at two thirty on a Thursday morning along with a bouquet of out of season narcissuses....narcissi? When the little boy in 116 had told his mama at midnight that he needed a George Washington costume for school the next day the night doorman had sourced it, complete with powdered wig, before the little tyke had finished his cheerios.  When V had realised an hour before her 5.15 a.m. flight to Miami that she had completely forgotten her niece’s confirmation gift he had sourced a personalised Catholic Bible bound in white leather which he handed to her as she got into her cab.  “He’s a miracle worker B.  Just tell him we need a case…no two cases of Patron Silver before midnight.  Give him the fifty but tell him I’ll make it a hundred if he can fix it by eleven thirty. OK?”

“Sure.  On my way.”  

She travelled down in the elevator imagining the doorman.  He’d be some old guy in a uniform with gold braid on the chest. He probably knew all the residents and their dogs by name and had one of those old timey extended families so that he could reach out to Cousin Ike for last minute birthday cakes or get his nephew’s wife to sew a costume at no notice.  She needed a fixer herself since her life seemed so broken.  She wondered what he could do for a lonely woman who was trying to work out if getting a cat was too much of an admission that she had given up.

As she stepped out into the lobby she was slightly taken aback by the mismatch between her expectations and reality.  He was behind the reception desk, dark head bowed over a laptop, no braid in evidence, no grey whiskers or paunch, just this dark, poetic looking guy in a black sweater.  She approached the desk and he looked up at her, fingers still flying over the keys without him needing to glance down.  He seemed to reach a natural pause, closed the lid of the laptop and smiled politely.  “Yes ma’am, how can I help?”  His eyes were blue.  They seemed to look through her probably thinking she was just another rich girl bringing him problems.  He must get that a lot.

“Yeah, hi, I’m a guest of Mr and Mrs Lodge Andrews up in the penthouse.  They’re having a little New Year's Eve party and they’re running low on liquor.  They wondered if you could source them a couple of cases of…”

“Patron Silver?  Yes ma’am, of course.  Who should I charge it to?”  She had no idea how he could have known what she was going to ask for.  It made her want to say that they wanted Stolichnaya or absinthe or something, just to surprise him but she’d been sent for Patron and Patron she would get.

“Oh, yes, I have a credit card.” She handed it over,  “and Mr Andrews said to give you this for the trouble.”  She passed him the fifty, embarrassed.

“No incentive to get it here before the coaches turn into pumpkins?” he asked, eyebrow raised.  She thought he was making fun of her but she couldn’t be sure.  

“Oh yes, that’s right.  Veronica said another $50 if it’s here by eleven thirty.”

“Okay ma’am.  I’ll buzz up when it’s here.  If that’s all.”

“Oh please don’t call me ma’am.  I’m Betty.”

“I’m Jones... Jughead. Nickname. Long dull story.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering why she was still standing in front of his desk.

“Look, it’s a little crazy up there.  Would it be okay if I just stay down here for a minute? Just say if it’s inconvenient. I don’t want to disturb you if you’re busy.” She didn’t think she could bear to be the responsible adult at Veronica’s party for a moment longer. Here it was quiet and no one needed her to hold back their hair while they were getting sick.

“Busy getting hold of twelve bottles of good tequila on New Year's Eve but that’s all.  I just need to make a call.  Excuse me.”  He stood and walked away from the desk, his back turned to her.  It was a good back.  He was wearing the black sweater over grey slacks with a key chain hanging from one of his belt loops.  He had broad shoulders but his neck was fine, not thick and meaty like the guys who needed to lift weights to manufacture some self esteem. He was slim at the waist and the hips, long legs, tall.  The hair was the USP though, dark waves of it tumbling freely as he dragged long fingers through it, waiting for someone to pick up his call.  Finally he yelled “Hey Toni.  Yeah, two cases of Patron Silver asap.  Yeah, I’d noticed that but mark it up. Can Sweetpea drop it over?  Yeah right now.  Hey, ask him to get me a burger on the way too.”  He turned and looked at Betty with a questioning look and she shrugged and nodded, “Two, make it two.  Ok, thanks Toni.  Yeah you too.  See you Sunday.”

He ended the call and made his way back to the desk.  “My pal Toni runs a bar,” he explained with a grin. 

“Veronica says you’re magic, a wizard,” she told him.

“Nothing occult about it.  I’m just observant, that’s all.”

“Seems magical to produce a George Washington costume overnight,” she countered.  

“Oh well, that was a lucky break.  My sister’s a textile artist.  A struggling one.  I gave her the brief and she knocked up the costume in a few hours.  Now all the upper east side mommies have her business card and she can afford to buy materials and pay her rent.  She had to pull an all nighter but it paid off pretty big in the end.”

“Birthday cake?  Out of season flowers?” 

“The husband’s kind of a dick.  He forgot last year too. They had a fight about it in this very lobby so I wrote down the date and got ready to save his bacon.  If he’d remembered the date I’d have had cake for my breakfast and sent my sister a bunch of flowers.  As it was I made a couple hundred bucks.”

Betty was laughing now at the smug look on his face.  “So you could have reminded him beforehand?”

“Could have, but maybe the expense’ll help him remember next time.  Anyway if the doorman knows more about your wife than you do it might be time to review your priorities.”

“Ok but what about the Bible?  That seems pretty miraculous.”

“Actually it’s kind of the opposite. The kid’s confirmation name is Maria. Hardly original.  My buddy Joaquin’s little sister was confirmed a few months ago.  Her confirmation name’s Maria.  She hadn’t made a whole lot of use of the Bible.  Your pal paid me three hundred, Joaquin’s kid sister got two hundred in her college fund.”

“Seems like the side hustles are more remunerative than the pay check,” Betty observed.

“It’s all a side hustle.  I’m a writer.  This job’s kept me supplied with characters and plot lines and given me eight hours of mostly uninterrupted writing time.”

Betty flushed pink and jumped up from the corner of the desk where she had been leaning.  “Oh I’m so sorry. Here I am wasting your time.  I’ll be on my way.”

“No, wait,” he reached out and put his hand on her arm.  It tingled.  “I didn’t mean it like that.  This is research.  Maybe I’ll put you in my next book.  The sad girl in a party frock who’d rather be in the lobby than with her friends at a party being kissed for New Year.”

“There’s no-one to kiss up there,” she confessed with a sad smile and then, without having any idea why, she said “I broke up with my fiancé last February.”

“Aha,” he said.  “There’s the plot.  Tell me.”

“He’s great.  A really good guy.  Kind, loyal, handsome.  Everything I should have wanted. Any girl would be lucky to have him. I think I broke his heart.”

“Why?”

“We started to plan the wedding and I wanted to run away.  I couldn’t bear to think about it.  Then one day I found myself imagining what I’d do if something bad happened that prevented it, like if he got sick or if I was in a car accident or something.  It was pretty clear that I couldn’t go through with it if I preferred the idea of one of us being in a coma to the idea of my wedding day.”

“Cold feet?”

“Oh freezing but it wasn’t just nerves.  When I imagined being married to him I couldn’t see myself, I was just a blank. It was… I don’t know how to say it…like I was finished.  I’d never be anything more than I was, never change or grow or struggle.  It was all too easy.  No grit in the oyster.  I know it’s crazy.”

“You didn’t say it was you not him did you?  You didn’t do that to him?” He was smiling at her, sympathising not mocking.

She blushed.  “I did.  All the clichés.  How could I explain?  I don’t even understand it myself.”

“I understand it.  You want to find out who you can be and he couldn’t give you that.  He was happy with who you were, didn’t want you to change.  He was probably scared of losing you. Anyone would be.” He looked at her with an intensity that made her nervous so she tried to change the subject.  

“A writer then?  What do you write?”

“Mostly mystery stories.  Magazines and online so far but I’ve just got a publisher for the novel.  I’m going to quit this next year.  What do you do?”

“I’m a psychologist.  I work with kids who are in trouble.  Try to get them back on track.  I love it but it’s hard sometimes.  I hear things that it’s tough to leave at the office.”

“You need to take care of you first.  You can’t save someone if you aren’t safe yourself. ”

“Writer or life coach?” she smiled.

He chuckled.  “Sorry.  I’m not good at small talk.  I get too intense too fast and freak people out.  Oh hey, cometh the man, cometh the tequila.”  

A tall guy in a leather jacket was pulling boxes out of the back of a truck that he’d illegally bumped up the curb outside..  He looked a little scary.  Once he was in the lobby she saw that he had a snake tattooed on his neck.  He fist bumped Jughead and then pulled him into a side hug. “Hey man.  Happy new year and all that. Hey,” he said, noticing Betty for the first time. 

“Hey.  Thanks so much for bringing it over. There’s a whole apartment full of drunk idiots upstairs just waiting to make themselves sick on it. Oh!” He turned back to Betty, aghast at what he’d said. “Sorry Betty.”

“You’ll not get an argument from me.  That’s why I’m down here talking to you.”

Neck tattoo laughed and held out his hand “Sweetpea.  Pleasure doing business with you.”  He turned back to Jughead,  “So I have to get back, I’m supposed to be on the door at the Wyrm.  See you Sunday?”

“Burgers?” Jug reminded him and his friend nodded, trotting back to the truck to grab a take out bag and toss it back to Jughead who snatched it from the air like a dolphin snatching a fish at Seaworld.

Betty buzzed up to the penthouse to get one of the assembled jocks to come and collect two cases of tequila and bring down a bottle of Pol Roger and the promised fifty dollars. It was eleven twenty four.  Ten minutes later she was sitting on the reception desk eating a burger, washing it down with $200 champagne.  “This is the best New Year's Eve I’ve ever had,” she grinned, a little disinhibited by the bubbles.  

“Weren’t you engaged last year?”

“This is much better.  I was pretending last year.  Now I’m just being me.”

“I always find that works better.  The not pretending bit. Especially not with someone you can love.”

She certainly wasn’t pretending at eleven fifty nine when she reached out to him and he took her in his arms and kissed her softly as cheers and yells rang out from the parties all over the city and fireworks exploded high above the park, casting confetti of coloured lights across the marble lobby. 

As the kiss ended she looked up into his blue eyes, wondering if it was the champagne that was making her blurry and relaxed or if it was him.  She thought she’d have to keep on kissing him to know for sure.  He really was a fixer though.  Her heart felt lighter, hopeful.

He grinned.  “Spectacular as that was, this is probably the most surveilled lobby in the city.  Can we schedule the repeat for when I’m not actually on the clock?”  He gestured at the security cameras covering every inch of the space and she blushed to think that somewhere there was taped evidence of her trying to seduce the sexy doorman.

“Can I stay here and talk to you some more if I promise not to touch?”

“I wish you would.  I get off at six and I know a great diner for breakfast.  We can tell people our first date was breakfast.  They’ll be scandalised.” She couldn’t hold back at the mention of the first date, of them telling people about it, so she kissed him on the cheek before retreating back to the edge of the desk with her hands up.

They talked about her work, his writing, they compiled an ultimate New Year's Eve playlist and top tens of movies and books.  She found herself distracted by the fullness of his lips, the expressiveness of his face, the heaviness of the locks of hair that fell forward over his eyes only to be pushed back impatiently.  They agreed on almost nothing and that was exactly how she liked it.  When she crept up to the penthouse at five thirty to collect her coat and change her party shoes for snow boots, she was met with a scene of devastation.  Prostrate bodies sprawled on every flat surface.  The two cases of tequila sat unopened in the kitchen, clearly surplus to requirements by the time they had been manifested.  She picked her way through the carnage and found the coat closet where Archie had put her things when she’d arrived the night before.  Opening the door she noticed the cases of liquor stacked inside, three unopened boxes of Patron among them.  She realised that Jug wasn’t the only fixer in the building.  She made sure to lean over her sleeping friend to place a kiss on her forehead before she let herself out, locking the door behind her.

[iloveannabeth]

The beginning of something beautiful

Anne held on to the rails of the ferry bringing her back to Charlottetown, feeling happier than she had in weeks. Finally, after overcoming many a painful journey, Anne found what she was looking for. Right before losing all hope, she went to the hospital as a last resort, looking for old patient files. By some miracle the morgue had an extensive system, keeping track of every file dating back 20 years. It took hours of searching but she, along with the incredibly kind worker, found two files. Walter Shirley and Bertha Shirley, both passing of scarlet fever. Held in the palm of her hand was a note inscribed to ‘our darling daughter’. Apparently, it was meant to find Anne at the orphanage but there was an influx of patients at the hospital and they were simply too busy to remember the note.

Anne summoned every ounce of courage she had, forcing the dark thoughts about the possible contents into the back of her mind, and opened the letter. It was quite possibly the best decision she had made over the 16 years of her life. Everything she had ever dreamed of knowing was in that letter. It explained it all; how Anne meant more to them than anything else in the world but there was simply nothing to be done. They didn’t have much time left but they knew that the only thing they wanted was for their child to find love and family and live a long, healthy life.

Anne couldn’t hold back her tears. The only other time she’d felt relief this strong was when she was told she could stay with the Cuthberts. She felt whole again and could now focus on the present. Who is Anne with an e? A daughter who was loved, even if only for a short time. An adopted daughter who will be loved for the rest of her life. An Incredible friend and kindred spirit; the best anyone could hope for. A futur teacher who would guide the next generation with grace and wisdom. Possibly the subject of a tragical romance as well. Only time would tell that tale.

Now, Anne simply couldn’t wait to tell everyone in Avonlea her good news. She would tell Mathew and Marilla as soon as she arrived home. She would tell Diana and Ruby first thing Monday morning. She would tell Jerry next time she saw the little rascal. She would tell Gilbert...well she would tell him as soon and she reached Dr. Wards office. Something inside of her chest fluttered and a thrill went up her spine at the thought of recounting her emotional story to Gilbert. That seemed to happen far too often whenever he was involved recently. How inconvenient. Pushing that aside, Anne closed her eyes, feeling the wind on her face and her heart opening up.

——————————

Anne took a deep breath. Fixing her hair, which was flowing down her back due to the wind, she opened the door to the small medical practice.

“Hello there! May I help you?” A beautiful, blonde haired woman asked when she reached the front desk.

“Hi, yes actually, I’m looking for Gilbert Blythe. I have something ever so important to tell him,” Anne responded with a delighted smile.

“Oh, um, of course. I’ll go let him know.” For some reason the young woman seemed very interested in Anne’s words. With a confused but grateful smile, Anne sat on the bench and waited for Gilbert.

“Anne? What brings you here? Is everything alright?” Blythe inquired less than a minute later with concern decorating his face. Anne had never come to see him at the office.

“Indeed. More than ok. Positively exquisite to be exact,” Anne’s smile lit up her whole being, making everything in the room shine.

Gilbert couldn’t help but smile back even without knowing the cause of Anne’s excitement. Her passion was contagious. “Well, do tell. Does it have to do with your parents?” The two teenagers had long since cleared the air that was sullied after an unfortunate train ride. Once back to being kindred spirits, Anne told him everything and Gilbert vowed to help her in any way possible.

“Yes. I found something. Something better than even I could have ever imagined.”

“That’s incredible. I can’t wait to hear about it. I only have a couple things left to finish up and then you can tell me on the way to the train.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you outside,” Anne and Gilbert stared at each other for a few more second, their shared joy showing in their warm smiles and shining eyes.

Finally ending their mini staring contest, Anne looked down and made her way outside.

Gilbert watched after her for a little while longer, feeling genuine happiness at Anne’s success. She deserved this.

“I’m a little confused.”

Gilbert was startled out of his trance by Ms. Rose’s voice.

“You said you’d never been on a date before but that girl is clearly more than a friend.”

“Winifred, I can explain—“

“No need,” she interrupted. “I hadn’t exactly imagined us getting married and living a life together after one lunch date. So, who is she?”

Gilbert let out a deep breath when he saw nothing but friendly mirth in her eyes. “Alright well, she is actually just a friend if I’m to be honest. I mean, I think.”

“Ah, so just a friend but with the potential of something more? Seems complicated.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well then don’t let me hold you up. Go with your Anne.”

Gilbert smiled a little goofily at the words ‘your Anne.’ No matter how much he may try to repress it, there would never be anyone for him but her.

He thanked Winifred with a polite smile, collected his things and made his way out the door.

——————————

“Anne that’s marvellous! I’m so happy for you,” The Blythe boy exclaimed jovially. Anne had just finished telling him everything.

“Thank you Gil. I can finally breathe easy now.” Anne’s eyes went a little wide as she noticed what she had just said.

“Gil?” He asked, grinning like the cat that got the canary. “That’s new”

“Um, yeah sorry, it just slipped out,” Anne’s cheeks were developing a lovely shade of pink. She couldn’t believe she called Gilbert Blythe, her former arch nemesis, ‘Gil.’

“Don’t apologize, I like it.” Gilbert reached up to scratch the back of his head; a nervous tick Anne had picked up on over the years.

“Alright. I am not sorry and will continue to call you Gil.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Deal. Now I need a nickname for you.”

“Oh no.”

“How about...”

“Gilbert Blythe, don’t you dare.”

“Carrots?” He smiled mischievously, laughter dancing in his eyes.

“Are you looking for another whack to the face. I’m quite certain I brought my slate.” Despite her words, Anne was also smiling. Even though she’d never admit it, spending time with Gilbert was one of her favourite things to do.

“Oh yeah? Well, carrots, I’m calling your bluff.”

The two adolescents has a silent face off, neither one looking away this time. “...Fine. You win.” It seemed Anne wasn’t as opposed to the nickname as she had been years prior. Especially not when Gilbert uttered that word with such fondness instead of malice.

“Good.”

They moved on from that topic, discussing anything and everything. School, the new printing press, how much they were rooting for Diana and Jerry, dancing lessons. Simply enjoying each other’s company without arguing for once.

The train ride was over before they knew it and soon they were both making their way back to Green Gables. Anne said she didn’t need him to walk her home but, of course, Gilbert insisted and Anne relented this time around.

“Thank you for accompanying me. You know Marilla wouldn’t let me do anything otherwise,” Anne grumbled outside her front door, hating the way she was babied.

“It’s all out of love. She adores you and she just couldn’t imagine anything bad happening. I think you should cut her some slack.”

“I suppose you’re right. It shouldn’t matter now anyways, considering I have accomplished my quest. I couldn’t have done it without you and I have yet to thank you for that so, thank you. It means a lot.”

Gilbert’s whole face softened, getting lost in the way Anne was looking at him. Had she looked at him that way before? He smiled shyly and nodded in understanding.

They kept looking at one another, both taking a step forward, neither one sure of what was about to happen.

Gilbert’s hand lifted on its own accord but before it could reach its destination on Anne’s freckled cheek, the door swung open, revealing Marilla calling Anne inside for supper.

The two bright students jumped apart, looking very startled.

Gilbert coughed. “Um it’s about time I should be getting back. I’m glad you found what you were looking for Anne. I’ll see you on Monday”.

“Goodbye Gil.”

“Bye carrots.”

Gilbert took a couple steps backwards, not turning around. He gave her a final smile and looked away, a bounce in his step as he made the short trek home.

Anne sighed, heart fluttering wildly in her chest. She had no idea what just happened but she knew something changed today.

She went inside, telling Mathew and Marilla about her adventure with vivid detail, only leaving out the parts with Gilbert. She wanted those all for herself.

As she lay in bed that night, going over all that had happened, the last thing she thought of before drifting off was Gilbert’s smile.

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace Chapter 1 - A small stumble

The long-awaited complete 1st chapter of my WIP novel! I started this over 6 months ago and I’m finally getting into the swing of it.

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm. 

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, and she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit.

===================================================

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn't going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so... ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don't need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my 'attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn't have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn't actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn't dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don't seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn't too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn't sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don't know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don't mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can't quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

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

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don't see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I'm so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don't even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don't worry! Neither do I! ”

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

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could. 

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway. 

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don't look behind us!" 

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I'd be used to it by now. 

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don't get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually. 

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm. 

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound. 

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of. 

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did. 

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure. 

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about...that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night. 

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck. 

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?"

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn't fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it's postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it's whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too. 

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It's thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore. 

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage. 

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn. 

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again. 

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important. 

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?” 

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me. 

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just...stop like that. It didn't make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

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

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

"It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll do for now. It's kinda cold- I don't think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least."

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

"That was...was that...I don't even know where to start. My brain's been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?"

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a...sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals...see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see...something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for...what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

=============================================

Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @Neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @Alice-and-Cheshire-cat @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaidiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command. 

[ayankun]

Ok, if you haven’t already (I say this to be polite, I know you haven’t) go put your eyes on this episode synopsis first.  Why?  Because it’s a good time.  But mostly because I want you to be tangentially familiar with certain topics so I can better explain what happened to my brain while watching this one.

oh, right, this post is a synopsis of the VR Troopers episode 2x13 “Kaitlin Through the Looking Glass” btw

4

3

2

1

WE

ARE

V

R

Now that you’ve got this far, here’s some housekeeping before we start:

I watched this show sporadically as a kid and have very fond memories of it “being better than Power Rangers” but really didn’t know anything about it at the time.  I am watching it as an adult partly due to nostalgia but mostly because I genuinely enjoy it.  Not necessarily because of the reasons they intended, but, you know.

As an adult, with a different understanding of the world than when I was seven, I willfully misconstrue the main characters as being in a polyamorous relationship.  OT3 baybee

On a similar tangent, Ryan “Trooper TRANSform” Steele is obviously trans.  (transgent??)

Hell, maybe they all are.  The more the merrier amirite.

They all call the Professor “Puhfessor,” so I will, too.

Still with me?  Let’s begin.

(first up, though, the title sequence is over a minute long, when really they only needed like, maybe 15 seconds to get the point across.  there is also a ton of footage used that portrays events that never occur and also the song is not catchy enough to warrant any of this and I love it)

So in Ryan’s flashback intro, he muses about how, as a kid, he felt the need to prove himself.  He expresses this to his dad by asking when he’ll get a black belt, and his dad is a good supportive dad who tells him:

“It’s not the belt that’s important, son,”

Ryan’s dad says trans rights.

Ryan’s VO goes on to say "My dad taught me that it’s not outward appearances that really count, and that was an important lesson that would come in handy time and time again.”

Ryan really loves memories of his dad.

Which I think is a sweet lesson to learn when you’re young and other youngs (and olds) are going to give you crap about how you look, but it’s also hilariously phrased considering how superficial the concept of “outward appearances” is to this episode.

So we jump into things down at the ... Voice Underground Daily idk what the newspaper is called, I’m just trying to read the sign on the wall tbh.  We’re at Kaitlin’s place of business, and Woody (I think his name is Woody LOLOL how many episodes have I seen) shows Kaitlin this front page article which appears to have the headline:

ZIKTOR DEFEATED AT CITY HALL -- NO TOXIC WASTE DUMPING AT CROSS WORLD PARK

Ok, a couple of things.

Kaitlin and Percy are just ... chilling out at the copy machine like they’re friends and this is where the cool kids hang out.

Which can’t possibly be true because the actual cool kids are there in the back, just reading newspapers like Actual Cool Kids do.

They’re an indie paper, right?  How can they afford to print headlines that verbose?  ... Or full color glossy, for that matter

THEY ACCIDENTALLY PLAYED THIS LIKE THEY WERE EXCITED ABOUT THE NEWS ITSELF AND NOT ABOUT KAITLIN DOING A GOOD JOB ON AN IMPORTANT FRONT PAGE PIECE

Environmentalism was No Joke in kids’ media in the 90s.  I specifically remember learning the word “toxic” from a Power Rangers episode where Billy tested the lake water.  I literally had to look it up.

and they say you can’t learn nuffink from tv

Anyway, part of the excitement is that this article is the follow up to an expose of Ziktor, also authored by Kaitlin, which inspired the city officials to veto his waste-dumping proposal.  So we’re proud of Kaitlin for doing a good job at journalism and for protecting the world!

JB does what JB does best and attempts to arrange a date.

The line is, “Hey, let’s celebrate!  With lunch!  At Hamburger Hutch” but I guess someone at Netflix got lazy for a second.

I forgot to mention, in my HC he’s our token ace (as my favorites often are), so he tends to go overboard with the romance.  You don’t have to compensate for anything, JB!

Kaitlin appreciates the gesture.

But then Woody interjects and I let my adult sense of humor get the better of me...

come on, the man’s name is Woody I can’t be the only one with my mind in the gutter can I

Also the line is “I don’t want you boys filling up my star reporter” so what am I supposed to thINK

--WITH JUNK FOOD.  Dodged an FCC bullet there.

So I just now gave it 2 seconds thought and the discrepancies with the subtitles probably have something to do with the expectation that children would be watching this show and can’t read that fast.  BOY DO I NOT FIT THE DEMOGRAPHIC

Ok well.

Where Woody’s going with this is that he wants to impose a health shake on Kaitlin for godknowswhy.  But it’s all good because as he todders off to get started on what will surely be a monstrosity, we get this ADORABLE moment where Kaitlin tries to get JB to come to her rescue.

She just runs up and grabs him.  I’m all a-flutter.

But JB is of no help.  Instead, he calls dibs on her fries.

There’s a weird, under-baked joke going on here that seems to be rooted in the idea that if one is dieting then others benefit from this self-sacrifice by gleefully picking up the slack?  Anyway Kaitlin’s not on a diet?  This vitamin shake angle literally came out of nowhere?  Is against her will???

Just one burger, please.  Protein style :<

et tu, Jeb??

Anyway, this weird exchange just passes the time to get Woody all set up.  He turns on the blender and THE WHOLE WORLD STARTS SHAKING. 

Percy runs over to be the hero, demanding Woody turn the blender off, while everyone else just rumbles around looking distraught and not practicing anything resembling safe earthquake response.  Percy manages to get a hold of the blender, lifting it off the counter, and -- you guessed it -- the lid comes off and purreed-carrot-baby-food-looking goop gets all over his nerdy white button up.

The shaking stops.  Percy’s very proud of himself (and disdainful of the others who didn’t come to his heroic conclusion).  End scene.

I’ll be real.  At this juncture, literally thought that the blender HAD caused a natural disaster, and it was just a wacky 90s gag that went on for far too long.

More on this story as it develops.  We’re moving on.

How many cities in the world do you think have ominous buildings in them that aren’t secret headquarters for supervillains?

Our good buddy Karl Ziktor is reading -- wait for it -- Kaitlin’s article.  It has a headline so long they had to dedicate the full front page for it.  I’m pretty sure that’s not how newspapers are commonly formatted.

That is literally just a couple of newspaper clippings taped to a big piece of paper.

Oh he’s mad.  He tells Juliet all about his evil plan for revenge, which is to “steal her virtual image and create a second Kaitlin Starr [that serves him]”.

Same, Juliet.

Off that yikes, a henchwoman comes in to appraise Ziktor of the status of phase one, which is underway.  A so-called Stingbot is “in the basement of the Underground Voice” so that’s what the paper’s name is, anyway.

Anyway so Stingbot was the one responsible for the earlier tremors.  And, yeah, I mean I know they were new cobbling stories together from old footage, but What The Hell do “sting” and “earthquake” and “outward appearances” have in common?

And that is how a Stingbot do.

My question is partially answered, in that Stingbot’s earthquakes are a distraction so that some skugs can plant the “Virtual Mirror Transmitter” on Kaitlin, which is the nefarious device that will create the aforementioned Kaitlin-2.  Bold of him to assume that just because Kaitlin’s a woman that she 1) carries a purse 2) stores a mini pink mirror in the purse 3) will look at herself in the mirror unprovoked.

It’s such a wildly twentieth-century concept.  Here in good ol’ 2020, I, for one, have not looked in a mirror in months.

Ugh more gross than this use of outdated stereotypes is this weird tongue thing Ziktor does while almost literally salivating after his upcoming revenge.  You’ll have to go see it for yourself, I’m not going to watch it again to cap it.

(This guy gives his 200% to this role, though.  What a legend. RIP Gardner Baldwin)

So Ziktor blue-skadoos into his virtual stronghold and gets an update from his generals.  There’s this new guy that I’ve already also forgotten the name, and since he has a human face, there’s a lot of awkward cuts between him and his Japanese counterpart in the footage that’s already ten years old at the time.  It probably looked great.  I was an adult before I found out that Rita Repulsa was the original Japanese actress in the original dubbed Japanese footage.

Anyway, he looks great.

I think I read that for season 2 they had access to and/or recreated the costumes used in/matching the source material, so there’s a noticeable uptick in cool-looking sets with American actors wearing cool-looking costumes, like this one.

You said it.

That’s about it for this scene, but before we go to commercials, Grimlord says this nonsense:  “I will destroy Kaitlin Starr with the one weapon she cannot defend against -- herself.”

Confirmed: Kaitlin is a deadlier weapon than, say, a homing missile.  (she can defend herself from those)

Ok we’re back at the Underground Voice and there’s still an earthquake going on.  Also, and let me tell you this with a large amount of regret of my life-choices, I’ve been sitting here for just about two hours and we are only five minutes into the episode (and that includes the minute long opening credits.)

Let’s roll!

JB gets off the phone with who knows who, having learned that there’s no earthquake registering anywhere, it’s a localized mysterious incident.  Ryan recommends they clear the building “just to be safe.”  My boy, why wasn’t that everyone’s first thought?  Are they really just standing around waiting to be told?  We had drills for this for a reason!

(Actually, I’m not sure where Cross World City is located.  Maybe they’re not on a fault line and do not actually do drills)

In any case, there’s a brief PSA where Woody wants to collect his valuables to take with him, and everyone has to inform him that that’s ill-advised behavior in an evacuation scenario.

He responds in classic Woody nonsense, by putting on a captain’s hat and insisting he’ll go down with his ship.  AND OUR BOY JB SAYS

He’s still thinking about that date.

LOOK.  There’s no rule that says asexuals can’t make dirty jokes.  Because we can and do.  Let me have this.

So our heroes herd everyone out of the building and then stay behind to call the Puhfessor.  Just as they get him on the computer, the earthquake stops. 

It’s not all good news, though.  The Puhfessor taps into some kind of impossible CC feed and they watch Stingbot undermining the structural integrity of the building.  Stingbot, by the way, has one of those creepy child laughs that is insane.  It’s so good.

Ryan decides to check out the basement himself while Kaitlin and JB keep everyone else outside.  He finds some creepy janitors down there, and they head on up like creeps normal janitors.

Maybe they were just hotboxing down there.

Stingbot’s also in the basement!  Who knows what he was doing down there, because

Murder hornet, colorized, 2020

Which is a weird thing to say until you remember the slight, throwaway “yummy!” he says earlier while drilling into the building.  I had forgotten it in the 40 seconds it took for me to get from that moment to here.

Ryan insults Stingbot’s outward appearance, which is odd because I thought he learned that lesson as a kid.  Either way, it’s time to

WE ARE V R

Only to spend about half a second on recycled footage just to have Stingbot go “lol, later loser.”  Because those perfectly normal janitors are upstairs swapping Kaitlin’s purse mirror with the evil thing.

Can you imagine trying to pull a stunt like this today?

Outside, things have calmed down enough that JB thinks Ryan’s got it under control.  He’s gonna go back in “to see if the building’s safe enough to reenter.”  I know he knows it’s not a real earthquake, but also I don’t think I’d trust a non-professional to assess my office’s structural integrity.

Kaitlin’s going to join him, which causes Percy to pipe up, Pavlovianly ... just to chicken out and stay put.  GOOD JOB PERCY.  USING YOUR HEAD FOR ONCE I SEE.

(kids, don’t volunteer to check that a building is safe after an incident where its safety may be in question.  it is not cowardly to leave it to Someone Who Knows What They’re Doing)

So JB and Kaitlin come back in to find the Normal Janitors shadily stealing a floppy disk from Kaitlin’s desk.  (kids, a floppy disk is a real object that looks a lot like the “save” icon)   BUT OF COURSE THEY’RE SKUGS SO JB AND KAITLIN HAVE TO THROW DOWN.

Let’s just say there’s a good thing they have an earthquake to blame all this property damage on.

JB’s a little snippy.

All he wanted was to go to lunch with his girlfriend and boyfriend.

The gold skugs do their fusion dance thing and turn into the oni-mask skug variant, which I’m assuming is a constraint of these later episodes where they used footage from a show that did not have the gold ones in.

FLIRTY BATTLEFIELD BANTER UGH I SHIP IT

Once that’s handled, we find out what Ryan’s been up to in the basement by himself this whole time.

Um.  I’m not touching that one with a 10-foot ... wait.

Ohhhh

Ryan heads back up and swaps notes with JB and Kaitlin.  Stingbot said that its work was done, so what exactly was it trying to accomplish?  Ryan then runs from there outside to check on everyone else.

Kaitlin then decides she needs to freshen up, which is something I don’t recall her ever needing or wanting to do after any other natural disaster/fight portrayed on this show.

But look how cute they are with their mutual post-fight shoulder-pat.  JB even gives her this cute little look as she darts off.  He is smitten.

He is smote.

Kaitlin gets her mirror out of her purse, as planned, and checks herself out.  You know.  Like how woman do.

She gets it.

This is it!  Grimlord’s chance to strike!  He will have his revenge, Juliet, just you wait!

for great justice

We are treated to a brief bit of delightful 80s Japanese sci-fi, all flashing lights and chonky beep boop buttons.  It works!  A tastefully gendered laser light shoots out of Kaitlin’s mirror and STEALS HER FACE OFF HER FACE

FACE/OFF

The experience seems highly unpleasant, but she’s mostly ok...

But wait, who’s this ...

It’s not really the Mirror Universe unless someone gets a goatee.

Kaitlin’s freaked out, but we don’t have time to see her process what it was that just happened.  More beep boop 80s lights (seizure warning much), and the virtual replica Kaitlin is 3D printed in Grimlord’s lair.

lol he’s got a play date

So this Kaitlin is the same exact person as real Kaitlin, with one major difference.

So this got dark, right?  This is different from that time they cloned Ryan, because that was just a DNA clone man baby with evil sunglasses; this is actually Kaitlin, the person, just with some programming differences, who’s gonna go back out there and hurt her boys herself.

Needless to say, Grimlord is delighted.

Check out that disgruntled wall snake, tho.  “I thought I was your lovely child”

Now Grimlord’s plan is to send Kaitlin into the wild with a device called the “fissicator” which is a “sTUn ray!!” (you have to hear him say it, it’s so good) as well as a thing that will reprogram the Trooper’s “contact disk.”

I didn’t mention it earlier, but that’s the disk that the janitors skugs were trying to steal, and it was also how Kaitlin called up the Puhfessor on her work computer.  I’m pretty sure we’ve never seen it before and we never see it again.  It’s Not A Thing.

So Kaitlin goes to Tao’s, where Ryan’s just chilling there by himself.  I guess everyone was okay after the earthquake, then.  (It is unclear how much time has passed)  Maybe it’s been hundreds of years, because Ryan acts like he’s not sure who she is.

Wait, hold on.  I did NOT pay close enough attention the first time, but -- either it’s much later the same day and/or they missed a scene.  They’re still wearing the same clothes ... and Ryan says he thought she was heading (back?) to the paper ... and then she says ....

Ryan.exe has stopped executing

Wait so WHAT.  What workout.  We have not been to Tao’s yet this episode.  ???

It’s really just a ruse to get Ryan to fight her, though.  But also.  Why need ruse?  Evil clone?  Just attack tho, right?

But also no NO.  DONT attack.  We’ve already seen JB be beat up by his evil clone boyfriend.  It’s rough.  (spoiler alert, this one’s gonna be rough, too)

So Ryan tries to let her down easy by saying he doesn’t have time -- and I can’t tell with this video quality, but I don’t think he’s wearing a watch but he does the “look at wrist” technique and it’s p good.

Kaitlin-2 refuses to be let down easy.

Them’s fightin words

Ryan ends up splayed out on the desk but seriously, now is not the time.

He rightfully wants to know what’s up, but she keeps taunting him to fight her.  She takes the first shot, which he dodges and blocks before disengaging.  Remember, kids, just because somebody picks a fight with you doesn’t mean you don’t have any other options!

She won’t stop coming for him, though, so he gets her arms pinned so he can try talking her down again. 

This technique backfires.

no more mr nice kaitlin

So in the other clone episode, this scene was staged in a room full of people, and even though JB was blindsided, he and Ryan are ostensibly evenly matched.  It wasn’t nice for JB, but at least someone was there to break up the fight.

This time though, Ryan’s been gently if firmly trying to diffuse a confusing situation where someone without his training is behaving irrationally and is going to get both of them hurt.  So far his attempts to de-escalate have failed, and there is no deus ex intervention incoming.

AND THEN she goes and plays the superpowers card on him.  Black belt or no, the whole point of having the Trooper alter ego is that they come with amazingly OP combat powers capable of defeating all manner of monsters.

And Kaitlin, a very very very dear close friend has just walked up out of nowhere and dropped a nuke on him.

Okay, so she throws him over a table, it’s the principle of the thing.

This overkill maneuver knocks him out cold.  She lifts Ryan’s Trooper communicator (so he can’t call for help when he comes to -- omg this is so chilling) and then uses the fissicator to call Grimlord for further instructions.

Gotta catch ‘em all

New Kaitlin, who dis?

So he now wants her to steal the disk, reprogram the disk, and use the reprogrammed disk to break all the Trooper computer stuff.  She reads his order back like

Close enough, I guess.

She gleefully moves on to her next task, leaving a helpless Ryan struggling and failing to regain consciousness.  :<<<<<<<

At the paper, real Kaitlin gets a message from JB on her little Trooper video phone and secretly Trooper TRANSforms out of there from inside the darkroom.  This was the point where I realized they had different ones!  Hers and JB’s are red and white, while Ryan’s (that just got stole) is red/blue.

Also, you can just see under all those crayons, but that’s the “contact disk” that Kaitlin-2 is coming for.  (how many crayons does a professional journalist need, anyhow?)

So there’s a joke in there were Percy sees Kaitlin go into the darkroom and then Kaitlin-2 walks in, and then also when he checks the darkroom, it’s empty.

Oh, so that means Kaitlin-2 successfully steals the contact disk, btw.

Back at Tao’s, Ryan has woken up and some how his backpack has, like, crawled down to see if he’s okay?  Which is helpful because that’s how he is able to quickly identify that on top of assault, there’s been a robbery.

I hope she doesn’t delete my save files

And this was the moment (right now, doing the caps) that I realized the little phones are called VRVTs!

But seriously, imagine being knocked out cold by a loved one, with no reason, no hint at an explanation, and not only has she left you for dead, she’s taken your phone so you can’t call for help.  He has no idea that she’s an evil clone!!!!  This is a real tragedy of a thing.  A gutting betrayal.

It looks like Ryan has his own contact disk, tho?  And he uses this on Tao’s PC to call up the Puhfessor.

spelled it rong

Just as a note, this subtitle comes up WAY too soon, so for a couple of frames it just looks like some kind of meme.  A++

 Ryan starts to relate his traumatic experience to the Puhfessor, but luckily he’s cut off with the good news that his “sensors” somehow correctly identify Ryan’s assailant as Kaitlin’s virtual double.

geez, you guys, look at how Ryan deflates hearing this.  I mean, it’s not great that he was probably concussed, but it’s a relief that his world still makes some kind of sense.

poor bb

Also, you can’t tell as much here, but there’s a really subtle punch in as the moment progresses, bringing us closer and making the moment more intimate as he grapples with this new information.  There’s a lot of dumb half-assed stuff in this show, but I gotta call attention to the stuff that is excellent for any era.

Also it’s so efficient from a time-management perspective.  Just look at the opening shot, which was a medium type establishing shot so you can picture Ryan in the space, but the PC’s right there for both the viewer and Ryan to reach.  Then we slowly zoom in, which serves double duty in that it provides the appropriate emotional impact, and at the end we’re on a nice close up of Ryan as he jumps into action.  Three shots with just one set up (and probably done in one take, with room to splice the PC shots in)!  I’m very pleased with this.

Down to brass tacks

The Puhfessor ominously tells him that they have their own troubles and we go straight from there into some source footage of them fighting some skugs and what I think is General Ivar.

After about three seconds of that, we cut back to the lab, where Ryan busts in on Kaitlin-2 just as she’s hacking up a storm.

im in ur base, haxxoring ur mainframez

Kaitlin-2 shows him the contact disk, which is now “encoded with a self-destruct program” that she’s going to use to overheat the lab’s power core and destroy like all the things.  Ryan is noticeably concerned, but Kaitlin-2 points the fissicator at him to get him to stay in line.

Ok ok ok ok so here’s where we get to the point where, when I watched this today, I fully turned away from whatever it was I was doing to go wwwwwwwwwwwwtf

Kaitlin-2 has a disk that will blow up the lab -- and there’s nothing Ryan can do to stop her--

huh

bruh what are you

bro srsly what

is happening

You’re trying to tell me that Ryan “killed his own clone with no ragrets” Steele is trying to make an emotional appeal to this clone in order to undermine her sense of purpose?

...did she ever think that Grimlord cared about her?  As a person?  I feel like that wasn’t in the contract when she was 3D printed with the sole purpose of serving her dark master, and she shouldn’t have any emotional reaction to this assumed expectation being challenged.

And .... did they ... did they read my other post?  The one about wanting to keep the clone around ..... ??????

what is happening right now

Ryan leans hard into this “embrace your humanity” tactic and has the Puhfessor show them a live feed of JB and Kaitlin’s fight.

“...She sure could use our help...”

wait for it

When she balks, he gives her one last over the top inspirational blurb that despite of whatever it was Grimlord did to her, she’s still the same (good) person as Kaitlin.

It starts to sink it.

(also just check out these sweet eyelines, you can tell that the screen they’re watching is slightly to his left,  sort of behind her to her right, which makes sense!)

He keeps at it.

Looks like it’s working?  She starts to reconsider her whole existence ...

...considers Kaitlin’s ...

... moment of truth ...

And it works!

BUT IT DOESN’T STOP THERE YOU GUYS

“NOW GO HELP HER” RYAN COMMANDS

AND

OMG

CLONE KAITLIN-2 IS ALL

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I guess, I mean, obviously Ryan’s evil clone did that whole thing where he stole Ryan’s virtualizer and started flying the Skybase, so if this Kaitlin is the same as the other Kaitlin then obviously she’d be able to do this, too.

But like!  She was the main villain until like four seconds ago, somebody who did Ryan dirty.  Just another of Grimlord’s nefarious tools of warfare.  And Ryan, a man who’s killed his own clone before, who took a beating from her only hours prior, is suddenly the bigger man who is capable of seeing past all that in order to turn an agent of his enemy.  And to go do his job, no less!

This has never happened before.  This show’s always been kill or be killed.  There’s a good reason for this, and we’ll get to that in one moment.

But I like to think Ryan learned from his mistake.  He didn’t even try to to connect to his evil clone.  He just got beat up and went back for revenge.  (I’m looking back at my caps for that episode, and it seems it was the Puhfessor’s idea to kill the evil clone, and maybe there was a MacGuffin reason why it was The Only Way, I forget.)  Maybe he thought long and hard about the repercussions of his actions -- maybe he thought that, had he been able to better understand his evil self, that maybe that shadow version of him would have liked to have been given the benefit of the doubt?

At the end of the day, I can think whatever I want.  But why we never get any other reformed villains until now is only because

It’s almost like they recycled footage from a different show(s) and just had to roll with the punches.

So then JB and the Kaitlins fight some skugs and there’s a big explosion and a lot of jumping.  JB and Kaitlin get caught up with the SparkNotes version of who tf extra Kaitlin is and then they fight Stingbot, teleport to a quarry, you know, all the everyday stuff.

Back at the lab, Ryan’s feverishly trying to undo Kaitlin-2′s handiwork and keep the core from melting down.  Can he do i-- well yes.  He can and he does do it.  Then he TROOPER TRANSFORMs away and ... flies off to fight ... some jets ... I guess? 

pew pew pew

In the quarry, JB is going toe to toe with Stingbot.  Stingbot has some cute little wasp drones that electrocute everyone.  They’re having a good time out there.

it’s super effective

Ryan shoots some more jets ... JB dislodges his wasp and slices one off a Kaitlin with a sword ... the third one just .. pops off on its own *shrug*

Stingbot shoots some acid (oh he did that before, too, in the basement, but it was irrelevant) which evaporates a boulder ... Kaitlin goes back to her battlefield quips but they’re not nearly as flirty as the last time ...

JB gets out his lightsaber and GOES TO TOWN on the remaining bad guys.  That thing makes the BEST wvungwvungwvung sounds, just btw.

And that’s it!

Almost.

Grimlord spends his obligatory seven seconds ruing the day he ever met a VR Trooper and swearing revenge.

ya it’s called being a parent

Turns out he still hopes that the two Kaitlins will destroy each other!  Very optimistic guy, our Grimlord.

Back at ol’ HQ, JB and the Kaitlins stroll in and explain the sitch to Jeb.  Kaitlin-2 seems fully reformed!

yee gurrl

But oh-hoho, does the Puhfessor HATE clones.

buzzkill, emphasis on kill

So it turns out, and I quote, “two Kaitlins cannot exist in the same reality.”  I guess technically she’s not a clone, but a virtual double from the mirrorverse/VR land, so that kind of makes some sort of sense.  This dimension is too small for the both of you!

The stakes are that if the two Kaitlins are not rejoined within 24 hours, both Kaitlins will byte the dust. 

Oh no!!

This was the point where, having a pretty good internal clock as well as a refined sense of story structure, I literally smirked at the screen thinking “soooooooo what.  you have like two minutes left and you’re gonna fix it in time for the credits.  overdramatic stakes are overdramatic.”

AND

THEN

THE

KICKER

OH-HOHO

I WAS

SO WRONG

SAME THO?1

:D

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai - chapter 2

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 6024

*Side note: I put a read more option on all my stories so if it doesn’t show up, I’m sorry :( It’s the Tumblr app and there isn’t anything I can do about it. I hope it doesn’t ruin your experience!

*Side side note: I actually had most of this chapter written already so that’s why the update was so fast, don’t hold your breath for future updates being this quickly updated, haha. :P 

After school you walked with Lillian to her car, jumping into the passenger seat and flinging your bag by your feet. Because her family was wealthy, when Lillian had gotten her license she’d also been gifted a car. You’d been green with envy at the time, but since you still hadn’t even found the time to get your own license you didn’t see the point in being jealous over something you couldn’t even drive so you’d quickly gotten over it.

“It feels like I haven’t seen Lucas in forever.” You replied, looking over at your friend who was drumming the beat on the radio onto her steering wheel.

“You still have a crush on him?” Lillian teased, eyebrows wiggling.

You rolled your eyes. “I was 13. Cut me some slack here, I didn’t know any better.”

“Hey now, my brother is awesome.”

You laughed. “Yes, he is, that’s not what I meant. I guess I was just unintentionally into the whole crush on your best friend’s older brother thing. It’s a phase we all must go through.”

Lillian pouted, “Only you don’t have an older brother so I never got my phase!”

“Well, there’s always Ella. It’s never too late.” You smirked at Lillian’s scoff.

“Please, she couldn’t handle this.” Lillian sighed, waving at her body and grinning.

“That’s definitely true. She wouldn’t know what to do with you.” You chuckled.

As you drove the short distance to Lillian’s house you felt the butterflies begin to jump around in the pit of your belly. While it was true that you’d had a crush on her brother when you were 13, there was still this part of you that wasn’t quite over it. He’d been your first serious crush at a time when you were just barely beginning to navigate the teenage waters. At the ripe age of 15 he’d been a babe, a class a dime. You weren’t really sure how to behave after not seeing him for half a year. You didn’t have his number so of course you hadn’t kept in contact. Maybe he’d met Daisy by now, or maybe he’d just decided to date someone else; not everyone sought after their soulmate, after all.

It was fiction what those fairy tale books said, that when you met your soulmate your fate was sealed and you’d never be without them again. Though the numbers weren’t high, there were people who chose to be with someone other than their soulmate. This was of course particularly painful for the half of the pair that was left behind, but no one was bound by a cruel mistress named fate; everyone still had a choice.

You were apprehensive about what you’d find when you saw Lucas again. There had been a moment when you thought Lucas liked you too. You were almost 16 and Lucas was nearly 18 and there had been moments of whispered thoughts, soul bearing confessions about life and the future. Moments of stolen looks, stowed away in the janitor’s closet after hiding the school’s mascot at the bottom of the pool and waiting with baited breath as they sought the culprit. The way he’d looked at you, as though he saw something there, as though he had secrets to tell.

You never found out, though, as you’d been wrenched from the closet by your look out, Lillian, and you ran laughing to her car in dizzy excitement, peeling from the parking lot and to your freedom. The school never did find out who did it.

“So what movie are we watching, anyway?” You inquired, turning to inspect your best friend as she made a turn off the main road.

“To be decided,” she grinned, “but Lucas brought some new stuff that he bought at school so he might have some gold in there.”

“There better be actual gold or I’ll be thoroughly disappointed.” You smirked. Pulling into the drive way, you grabbed your bag from beside your feet and followed after Lillian as she stepped through the front door, announcing her arrival loudly into the foyer.

Not even 10 seconds after Lillian’s voice had died down Lucas came barreling from the kitchen, grabbing her in his arms and laughing at her squeal. You’d always been jealous of their relationship, they were close on a level that you and Ella never had been and you envied that. Not that you and your sister didn’t get along, you had all the normal arguments about stealing each other’s clothes and taking too long in the bathroom, but if you’d been away for a long time Ella certainly wouldn’t be rushing to you with a giant hug and lots of I missed you’s.

Suddenly Lucas was turning to you and you were struck again by how handsome he really was. His blonde hair styled into a messy quaff, strong, square jaw, bright green eyes, and a big smile trained directly on you.

“Y/N!” He crowed, swooping in to pull you into a bone crushing hug and you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Wow, have you gotten even prettier since the last time I saw you? I didn’t think it was possible.”

You blushed at his compliment, swatting at his chest and laughing, “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me in front of your sister.”

Lucas chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder. “Ah she’s used to this by now, she knows I love to tease her friends. Especially the cute ones.”

Lillian scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re so gross. If you’re so in love with her, why don’t you just ask her out already?”

“Maybe I will.” Lucas grinned and you found yourself blushing deeper. He’d always been a flirt, insisting he loved to watch you turn bright red, but college seemed to have honed those skills if your puddle like state was any indication.

“Alright, alright, alright.” You laughed, shoving him away from you. “Where are your movies?”

Lucas laughed, leading the both of you into the front room where he had a three ringed binder filled with movies laid out on the floor. “Geez, Luca, did you seriously buy all of these in the last few months?” Lillian gasped, dropping to her knees to flip through the book.

“Hey,” he said, holding his hands up, “you know I’m a movie buff, this shouldn’t be surprising to you. Besides, the last few pages are empty.”

“Oh, the last few pages, my bad.” Lillian teased. “So what are you in the mood for, Y/N?”

You dropped down next to her, looking through the pages and stopping here and there at something that peaked your interest. “Hmm, well, I’m always in the mood for a romance,” at the sound of Lucas gagging in the background, you laughed, “or a good old fashioned comedy. I’m pretty flexible. You guys choose and I’ll be happy with whatever.”

You made your way to the couch, curling into the corner and grabbing a blanket to spread over your legs. After choosing some new action movie that you’d never heard of, that was apparently out of this world, Lillian came to sit beside you until Lucas pouted and forced her to move to the other side so that he could sit in between the both of you, something about not wanting to be left out. You’d snorted, rolling your eyes and cuddling further into your blanket.

After the lights had been turned off and the movie had started the three of you quieted down to watch. As expected, Lillian fell asleep about 10 minutes into the movie and you smirked. She was so predictable. Movie nights and sleep overs always turned into a solo activity if it was just the two of you because she just couldn’t help it. The lights were off, she was comfortable; she was going to fall asleep.

The movie was just barely building up to the climax when suddenly you felt it. Fingers running up and down the side of your thigh. You tried not to jump at the contact, thinking perhaps it was an accidental graze, but as it continued you grew curious and over the edge of the blanket (which you’d pulled up to your eyes as the hero of the movie was about to pull off some incredible stunt) you glanced at Lucas.

He didn’t look at you at first, looking the picture of innocence as he stared straight ahead at the movie. You were tempted to shrug it off, maybe he thought he was stroking his own leg, but suddenly he turned to look at you, smirk etched deeply into his cheeks.

You felt like the air was being sucked from your lungs as you felt his fingers tap their way up to the top of your thigh, squeezing gently. Had you fallen asleep? Were you hallucinating? He leaned towards you, whispering, “Hey.”

“Hi.” You whispered back. You hoped you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt.

“I missed you while I was gone.”

You could barely hear his voice over the thrum of the music but your heart skipped out of your chest as you lapped up every word.

“You missed me?”

“Of course, you may be Lillian’s best friend, but we’re friends too, right?”

You nodded, head slightly dizzy. He hadn’t removed his hand from your lower thigh and you felt confused. Friends don’t rub each other’s thighs. When Lucas chuckled softly you realized you’d said that out loud and blushed.

“You’re right.” He said, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “Can we go to the kitchen to talk for a minute?”

You followed like a robot, unsure of what to do or say but as soon as you were in the kitchen he closed the door behind you and sat at the kitchen counter. “Come sit with me.” He smiled up at you.

You sat across from him, fingers immediately lacing together to try and squeeze the nerves from your body. “How was school?”

He shrugged, “school was OK, nothing special. Trying to get the boring classes out of the way so I can enjoy the classes for my major.”

“That’s a good idea, I’ll have to remember that when I go to college next year.”

“Are we really going to talk about school?” Lucas asked, scratching the back of his neck and you chewed on your bottom lip. That was his one tell. When he was nervous about something, he would scratch the back of his neck. You’d known him for so many years, fawned over him to the point of near obsession and when you’d come back down from it all and tried to reign yourself in you became friends with him, learning to read his queues.

“We don’t need to talk about school.” You mumbled. You tapped your fingers lightly against the counter top, shoulders bunching together. “Did you find Daisy?”

Lucas looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together. “Why would you want to talk about her?”

You shrugged. “It just seems like we’re going into a conversation that maybe wouldn’t be good if you’d found her.”

“You know I don’t believe in the whole soulmate thing. It’s all so romanticized to trick us into marrying someone with some weird matching tattoo.”

“I’m not saying I like it either,” you defended, “I was just curious.”

Lucas sighed, rubbing at his chin, “No, I haven’t met her, but if I do I’ll just tell her that I’m interested in someone else.”

“You are?” You asked in surprise.

“Yeah, my little sisters best friend. She’s pretty cute, maybe you’ve seen her around?”

“Oh come on,” you laughed, “stop playing around.”

“I’m being totally serious.” At your look of confusion he continued, “Look, when I was in school all I could think about was you and how much I missed you. I started to forget the sound of your laugh and that’s when I realized how much I like you. I’m just telling you this because, I don’t know, I kind of hoped that maybe you’d give me a chance. I know it would be a little awkward since I will be going back and forth between school and home but I want to try…if you’re willing.”

He suddenly looked down at his hands and it occurred to you that you’d never actually seen him look so awkward before. He was always confident in what he had to say and who he was as a person and it made you feel oddly flattered that you were the one causing this change in him.

“Well,” you started softly, “it would be rather difficult being so far away from each other for so long,” and he conceded with a nod, “but I don’t see the harm in trying.”

Lucas’ head snapped up, grin peeled at the edges of his lips. “Seriously?”

“Did you really think I’d turn you down?” You smiled and Lucas chuckled bashfully.

“Kind of. I just figured you must have a lot of options at school, why would you want to date your best friend’s weird older brother?”

You stood, coming to stand in front of him, fingers running along the curve of his shirt collar. “You’ve never been weird. In fact, I may or may not have had a crush on you since I was 13 years old.”

“Really?” Lucas grinned, eyes wide with glee, “I seriously never would have guessed.”

“Well, you are kind of dense.” You teased and Lucas laughed, poking your side as punishment.

“Hey, be nice to your boyfriend.”

You blushed, chewing the inside of your cheek and looking down as your fingers continued to fiddle with his collar. “Wow, boyfriend. I never thought I’d hear that in relation to you.”

Lucas spread his hands along the expanse of your lower back, pulling you closer and smiling up at you. “It feels really nice to say.” He admitted. “But we should probably get back before the movie ends. You know how Lillian is, always waking up in the last few minutes.”

You smiled, nodding, and Lucas stood, lacing his fingers with yours and walking back to the darkened living room, cuddling under the covers and settling back into the nearly finished movie.

After Lillian woke up and the three of you hung out for the next hour she offered to drive you home and you made your way towards her car, waving at Lucas as he stood in the doorway and you fastened your seat belt, holding onto the strap across your shoulder.

“I have a confession to make.” You murmured, once you’d left the neighborhood and were back on the main road.

Lillian hummed as an affirmative for you to continue and you clutched your seat belt tighter in your hands. "Lucas may or may not have asked me to be his girlfriend.”

The look on Lillian’s face as she snapped her gaze in your direction would have been comical had she not been driving. As it was, she swerved slightly and you gasped, throwing your arm out to try and steady the wheel.

“What?!” She screeched and you weren’t really sure if that was meant to sound happy or angry.

You sighed, clutching back at your seat belt. “Do I really have to repeat myself?” You complained.

“Yes, you absolutely do!” She insisted, bobbing her head vigorously up and down.

“Lucas asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“And what did you say?”

“Uh, well, you see…”

“Y/N, what did you say?” Lillian insisted.

“I said yes.” You replied timidly. Lillian’s squeal of excitement wasn’t what you were expecting but it made your shoulders loosen never the less.

“Oh my gosh, my brother and my best friend! This is the best thing ever! When did this happen?”

“During the movie, after you fell asleep. He told me he liked me and asked if I’d give him a chance.”

“Which of course you agreed to, you have had a ridiculous crush on him for years, after all!”

“Not so ridiculous now, it turns out.” You blushed.

Lillian laughed giddily, reaching over to slap your knee in excitement and you quickly joined her with high pitched giggles of your own. She pulled up in front of your house, waving you off with a promise to gossip more tomorrow and you laughed, waving as she peeled away from the curb.

“You’re in a good mood.”

You jumped at the deep timber of an all too familiar voice and turned, sighing. “Yes, I am. Can I help you, Jungkook?”

The sun was setting behind your house and it gave Jungkook a slight halo, which was laughable. He stood there in a dark bomber jacket, black t-shirt and criminally tight light wash jeans with a rip in the knee. He honestly looked so handsome that you wanted to vomit just from having to think that.

Jungkook shrugged, “just thought I’d say hi.”

“Our parents aren’t around, you don’t have to pretend to be my friend.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and looking up to the sky. “Don’t act like such a victim, Y/N. You act butt hurt when I don’t say hi to you but then when I do you’re all of a sudden better than me.”

“I never said I was better than you!” You cried.

“You don’t have to say it with your words, I can just see it on your face.”

You felt a little guilty because Jungkook did actually seem offended so you sighed and shrugged. “I’m sorry, OK?”

“I can tell that really came from your heart.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Look, I am sorry, I really didn’t mean to come off that way. To be fair, though, you always make me feel like crap so it seems like a fair trade off.”

Jungkook snorted, “I had no idea you were one of those eye for eye types of people.”

“Well, you don’t really know me, Jungkook.” You muttered.

He nodded, lips pursed as he surveyed your frown. “Fair enough.”

You sighed, running your hand through your hair and looking off at the lights in your house. “Look, I’ve gotta go now. I’ll see you at the barbecue tomorrow.” You began to walk towards the house before noticing that Jungkook was walking right behind you. “That wasn’t really an invite.” You frowned.

“Lucky for me, I don’t need your permission.” He teased, “Besides, your mom wanted me to come over and help her move some furniture around since your dad’s at some work function or something.”

“OK.” You shrugged, walking through the front door, Jungkook following and closing the door behind himself.

“Jungkook!” Your mother beamed, coming from the kitchen, “thank you so much for coming over, honey. I really appreciate your help.”

“Of course, you know you’re like my second mom. I like helping you out.”

Your mom laughed, wrapping her arm around Jungkook’s waist and leading him to the living room. You walked slowly up the stairs as you listened to them chat while she directed him where to move things. You supposed it was really rather nice of him to come by and help, you were sure that he had better things to do; after all, he had a roaring social life and a beautiful girlfriend.

After slipping into a pair of shorts and a baggy hoodie you made your way back downstairs to grab a snack and you stood by the dining room door, watching as he brought in a table from the garage. During your barbecues you always inevitably made your way back inside to play games and it had just become a tradition at this point. It was easier to have tables and chairs set up for you the night before so that no one had to worry about it while eating.

Usually your dad was the one to move the furniture around, but since he wasn’t here Jungkook was the next best thing in your mother’s eyes; like a son she’d never had. She always insisted that you and your sister were like delicate little flowers and rarely let you help with any heavy lifting. Sometimes it actually annoyed you how little faith your mother put in your physical abilities and other times, like right now, you didn’t mind so much that you didn’t have to pick up the couch and move it. Chewing on the roll you’d grabbed from the kitchen, you watched as Jungkook moved to where your mother directed him, muscles cording in his back under his t-shirt as he dragged the couch to the back wall and moved the table into the center of the room.

You hated to admit that you liked the way he looked. He’d been a brat nearly all his life, but he was so handsome it made you ache a little. Why did mean people always get the best things?

“Hey mom?” You called suddenly and she looked over to you from her position by Jungkook, “I was wondering if I could invite my boyfriend over for the bbq tomorrow.”

Jungkook dropped the couch suddenly and you and your mother both jumped before she trained her vision back on you. “Boyfriend?” She asked in surprise.

“Yeah, Lucas actually asked me tonight.” You grinned and your mother squealed, running over to you and pulling you into a hug. She’d known about your crush on him almost as long as you’d had it and you’d always felt like she was silently rooting for the two of you, even after Daisy’s name appeared on his wrist.

“Oh my goodness, honey, of course. I am so excited for you! Also, what are you doing with that roll young lady?” She scolded and you grinned, shoving the rest into your mouth in one big bite, “those are for tomorrow!”

“It’s only one!” You mumbled around your mouth full and you could see Jungkook grimacing in the background as he returned his attention to the couch.

Just then the front door closed softly and you watched as Ella strolled into the room, backpack slung across one shoulder. “Oh!” She said in surprising, taking note of Jungkook finally pushing the sofa into place and she blushed. “I didn’t know you were here, Jungkook.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. She was so obvious about her crush on him, you were surprised he hadn’t picked up on it by now. Jungkook smiled, rising to his full height and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just helping out your mom a little bit.”

“That’s so nice of you!” She gushed and you sucked on your teeth noisily. It seemed as though you were the one feeling all the awkwardness that Ella seemed to ignore as she made her way into the center of the room, grabbing onto his bicep. The look of surprise on his face was so priceless you would have laughed if you weren’t also surprised yourself. Your sister had never been quite so forward. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’m sure you’d much rather be doing something other than moving around heavy furniture on your Friday night.”

You watched in amusement from the sides as Jungkook cleared his throat and turned to look for your mother. She’d retreated to the kitchen to hide the rest of the rolls (from you, presumably) and then let his eyes sweep over you. “Well, if the three of us grab some chairs from the garage we could probably make pretty good work of this.”

“Oh,” Ella remarked, turning to look at you, “I didn’t know you were there. Were you just sitting there watching and not helping?”

“I was eating!” You exclaimed and she frowned.

“As if that’s any better.” She scolded and you glared. “Poor Jungkook is over here working his butt off while you’re just sat there watching him. That’s, like, creepy or something.”

You scoffed, making your way towards her, “fine, let’s go.” You ushered Jungkook in front before sending another glare Ella’s way. “Your crush is showing.” You smirked and Ella blushed, pushing passed you and following Jungkook into the garage.

After the three of you had finished setting up the living room and you’d had to quietly survive Ella’s painful attempts at flirting, you’d sat down on the couch to send Lucas a text about tomorrow. He’d replied with a resounding yes and insisted that he would bring something to contribute despite your insistence that it really wasn’t necessary.

Your mother had asked Jungkook to stay for dinner and you watched as he helped her to set up the table. What a show off. Even Ella was contributing, which was laughable because normally she was somewhere complaining about letting her nail polish dry or something. Your mother asked you to help her finish making a salad so you stood, shoving your phone in your back pocket and going to wash your hands.

After dinner you sat back on the couch, watching in displeasure as Jungkook made his way to the same couch, sitting beside you with a loud sigh. “So a boyfriend, huh?” He asked, leaning towards you, “who’s the unlucky guy?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you as he laughed. “Bite me.” You muttered, careful to keep your volume low enough so that your mother wouldn’t hear.

“Come on,” Jungkook coaxed, “I’m curious. You said Lucas before; is that Lucas Olsson, Lillian’s brother?”

You sighed, shrugging, “maybe it is, maybe isn’t.”

“Doesn’t he have a soulmate?” He asked and you frowned, turning to look at him.

“We all have soulmates, Jungkook, doesn’t mean we all want to be with them.”

“Isn’t that fighting against fate or something?”

“What, you’re telling me you actually want to end up with your soulmate?” You questioned dubiously.

“Sure, why not? The universe always puts us with the person that would make us the most happy, seems like it knows what it’s doing. Why would I try and compete with that?”

“Wow, how sappy of you. You don’t think the universe messes up sometimes?” You questioned.

“I’ve never seen it before. I mean, yeah, sometimes we see something in a magazine or the newspaper or whatever that says two soulmates are getting a divorce due to irreconcilable differences, but honestly, the media lies all the time and we don’t actually know any of the people they’re talking about. Maybe they’re making it up.”

“You sound like a conspiracy theorist.” You groaned. “Doesn’t it weird you out at all that somebodies name, a person you’ve never met before, just appears on your wrist and you’re expected to just make a life with them because the universe dictated it that way?”

“Not really,” Jungkook shook his head, “I wanna be happy, she wants to be happy, it’s worth a shot, right? My dad was skeptical before he met my mother and now he’s deliriously happy so it kind of seems like it’s worth it.”

“Yeah, well, what if you end up with someone you hate, what then?”

“That’s so unlikely,” he scoffed, “the universe is not going to stick two people together who hate each other, that would make no sense. You’ve gotta trust the system.”

“Did you suddenly turn into a hippie?” You rolled your eyes. “Does that system know you stick your dick in every woman that breathes?”

Jungkook frowned, tapping his fingers against his leg in agitation, “you have so much anger for someone your size, where do you bottle that shit up? I really haven’t slept with as many people as you seem to think I have.”

“Sure,” you quipped, going to stand, “and the moon is purple.”

Ella quickly took your spot on the couch, drawing Jungkook’s attention away from you and you made your way back upstairs. You had too much homework to do and not enough energy to deal with his special brand of irritating, anyway. You needed to save your energy for tomorrow when he’d be here to annoy you all day.

Also, Lucas. You smiled at the idea, sitting down at your desk and pulling out your phone. You wondered if he’d try to kiss you tomorrow. He hadn’t tried tonight but that’s because his sister was there and everything was so fresh. You wondered if he was the type of guy to wait a few dates or go all in. You couldn’t wait to find out.

I hope you enjoy this update. There will be a bigger gap between this update and my next because I’m not close to finishing the next chapter so you can expect it at the end of this month or in early December. 

Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Copyright © 2018  by taeken-my-heart (Nora.) All rights reserved.

[asaseya]

Princess of the Court :Chapter One

This isn't the first original story I've written but it will be the first one that I’ve posted. However, the only thing keeping this story from being a fanfic is the fact that its an original story...I’ll try to explain. I watch too much anime, and lately I’ve been on a slice of life/romance/sports anime kick. And that has bleed out to create this story. It’s been fun to write so hopefully It will be fun to read. Link to Chapter Two

AO3

Chapter one.

“Where are you going?” a teacher asked, tapping the shoulder of a wayward student.

Majida sighed loudly and then turned around. She glared at the teacher, only softening her gaze when she saw how it distressed him. She didn’t mean to be so snippy, it had just been a troubling morning.

The teacher looked smug as he straightened his tie. “I’m sorry. Can you understand me?” he asked slowly.

“Yes, I can understand.” she answered, resisting the urge to glare again. She couldn't glare at every person who assumed she didn’t speak Japanese or else she’d never smile. “I’m lining up,” She pointed the the girls in her class.

“That’s the girls line,” the teacher explained. “You belong in this one,” He gestured to the line of boy’s.

Majida opened her mouth then closed it. She choose Akahoshi high school partly because of its uniform. Not that the uniform from the all girls school down the way wasn't cute. If anything it was too cute, she wanted neat and smart, not cute. The girls uniform for Akahoshi High paired a grey blazer with a maroon and grey plaid skirt. The bow was a solid maroon, so was the tie that came with the boy’s uniform. The boy’s wore a grey blazer with maroon and grey plaid slacks. Guess which uniform she found herself in.

The manufacturers informed Majida via email that they assumed her form was incorrectly marked female. The height recorded was 178 cm and that was unheard of for a female high school freshman. Her weight didn’t help either, though in her defence she was practically all muscle. Yeah, its not common. She wanted to write back. So? At least call or email to check first! But arguing wouldn’t solve anything, besides, the manufacturers agreed to do a rush order free of charge. She’d have her new uniform by the end of this week. But for now she was stuck with this.

Majida tried to work around the problem. She arrived much earlier than the opening ceremony in a dress suit and styled her dark hair into a neat french braid. That dress suit was now in her locker. The principal insisted that she wear a uniform like everyone else.  It wasn’t, however, possible to take his “rules are rules” statement seriously when he giggled while saying it.

Majida sighed again. She had half  a mind to flash this teacher as proof but didn’t want more trouble. “Yes, yes, whatever you say,” she said as she trudged to the boy’s line.

“Only one yes! And take off those earrings!” He said, sounding bolder now that she was following his directions. He muttered under his breath about how Majida should cut her hair as well.

Majida ignored him. She had worn her favorite pair, studds shaped like red roses, in hopes that some good luck would come her way. Black studs occupied the other two holes he had in each ear. And what idiot asks a girl to cut her hair?... The type of idiot that confuses a girl for a boy just because she’s wearing the wrong uniform, she realized. She resisted the urge to look down her shirt to check that her boobs were still there.

Adding insult to injury she was second to the last person in the boy’s line for her class. The boy behind her looked completely bored. Or rather it was that he had the air of someone who felt all this was beneath him. His hands were tucked into his pockets and he slouched. His dark blond  hair flopped over his eyes. He could be handsome, Majida thought, very handsome if he didn’t look like he was about to fall asleep. That didn’t seem to matter to the girls nearby. He was already the subject of discussion.  The girls also seemed to notice her.

“You all suck at whispering,” Majida said to no one in particular, causing her year mates to immediately pretend that they were listening to the principal's speech.

Majida was used to catching other’s attention. Sometimes it was because of her height. Or how curly her hair was. Sometimes she would get trapped by well meaning folks who wanted to guess what she was, or where she was really from because her darker skin tone didn’t stereotypically match her facial features. But that was in the States. In Japan apparently people didn’t ask, they just stared when they thought she wasn’t looking. She hadn’t had enough experience living in Japan to know which form of rudeness she preferred yet.

Her home room teacher couldn’t pronounce her first name. She couldn’t blame him.She was told that her mother randomly picked it from one of those baby name websites. It was supposed to mean glorious in Arabic or whatever. Most thought it was made up. She low key agreed with them.

“Don’t worry about it.” she said with a smile.

Her homeroom teacher looked sheepish. He was a younger teacher with a pleasant disposition. A welcome change from the jerk of a teacher she met earlier. “I feel as if it would have been rude not to try. Can you pronounce it for me?”

“Ma-gee-da”

He looked at the roll again. “Ok got it . Mikami Majida-kun?”

“Uh...No chan is fine. Chan.”

The teacher tilted his head “Mikami-chan?” He squinted at her for a moment before his mouth formed a silent oh. “That explains some things. Mikami-chan it is then. And you’re from America originally, correct?”

Finally, she thought, A break through! She knew she didn’t look like a boy. Was everyone just seeing the uniform and going from there? “I was born there, yes,” she answered

“We are happy to have you here then,” the teacher said before moving on to the next name on the roll.

“Mikami-kun?” a girl asked shortly after the lunch bell rang. She was average height, making her much shorter than Majida. She kept her chin length dark brown hair back with a maroon headband. She blushed when Majida turned to her. “Sorry. I haven’t called a boy chan since elementary school.”

Majida sighed. She stood and took off her blazer. The blouse she wore underneath showed her figure more clearly. There was an audible gasp and suddenly everyone was looking at her. “You don’t have to use chan on a boy because I’m not a boy. They just sent me the wrong uniform.”

“I knew something was off,” a boy interjected.His loud voice carried over from the other side of the classroom. “Your voice was too light.”

Majida plopped back down and slumped in her chair. “You couldn’t tell by my face?” she pouted a bit, and the class laughed. It wasn’t exactly funny to her.

“Your face is wasted on a girl!” the girl who spoke first wailed. She covered her mouth with her hands immediately.

“Hina-chan! Aiming for the new guy already?” the loud boy called out again.

“Shut it Hayashi-kun,” Hina said sourly. Her disposition brightened as she turned her attention back to Majida. “But they really made you wear that Mikami-ku...chan?”

“The principal did” Majida explained. “He seems to think the situation is funny.”

Several students groaned.

“So the rumors are true,” said another girl who came to stand by Hina’s side. She was a bit taller than Hina with sharp eyes. Her long black hair was in a high ponytail. “We do have a crackpot for a principal.”

“Is this something I should have heard about about before enrolling here?” Majida asked.

The girl shrugged. “I guess we all have to get used to it.” She offered her hand to Majida. “You can call me Airi. No need to be all formal. And you’ve already meet Hina”

Majida shook her her hand. “Just call me Majida. Or Jida. I’m not really used to just being called by my last name.”

The other girls in class took their turn introducing themselves. Majida wasn’t confident that she’d remember all the names but it felt nice to get a warm welcome.

A boy puffed out his chest. “Well then. I guess it’s good you aren’t a boy. Now there is a bit less competition.”

Hayashi-kun scoffed. “You’re forgetting pretty boy over here.” He jerked his thumb to the tall boy that Majida stood in front of in the line up. Everyone looked over at the “pretty boy”. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the attention. His eyes flicked over to the class before returning to gaze out the window. The room became quiet again.

“Well then... now that this mix up is settled.” Majida said, breaking the ice. “I do look forward to attending classes with you all.”

“Yes!” Hina took a seat in the desk nearest to Majida. “And if you need help clearing up the whole boy-girl thing you can rely on me.”

Majida smirked a little. “I’m in your care then.” She pulled out her lunch box and began to unwrap it.

“Did you make that?” Hina asked. He had her lunch in her hands but seemed a lot more interested in what Majida had going on.

Airi gave Hina a little shove before pulling up a desk. “No you can’t have any of her lunch. What happened to that diet you were on?”

“Airi” Hina hissed.

Airi looked a bit smug as she reveled in Hina’s annoyance. “That does look good though.”

Majida lifted her lunch box to offer it to the girls. She’d made croquettes and a salad the night before.  Airi took a croquette and broke it in two in order to share with Hina. Hina didn’t hesitate to take her portion.

The girls ate for a while before Majida broke the silence once again. “So...I figure its best to do this now rather than wait for more rumours to start. Anyone have any questions?”

The two girls looked to each other.

“So...we can ask?” Hayashi- kun asked.

“As long as it’s reasonable sure.”

Another boy snorted. “Sounds like the perfect trap for you Hayashi.”

“You ask then Minami,” Hayashi said.

Majida smiled as she shrugged.

“Ok I’ll bite.” Minami started. “How come you can speak Japanese so well?”

“My dad’s Japanese,” Majida pulled out her phone and pulled up a family picture that was taken on their trip to Disney world last year. She held up her phone so that her classmates could see. Her dad stood on the left side. He was a bit taller than her back then but she had caught up to him quickly. Majida really liked pictures like this of him. Pictures where he smiled broadly and wasn’t standing stock straight. Where his hair wasn’t perfectly parted and slicked back. When he looked like more than some stuffy heir to an international company. His thin rimmed glasses were even replaced with neon colored sunglasses.  

Her mother looked as perfect as she always did. Her skin was darker than Majida’s and her hair was expertly strightend even in the summer heat and humidity. The only hint that she was on vacation was that she wore a sundress instead of the blouse and tailored pants she normally wore. She and Majida were the same height in this picture. Majida stood beside her mom leaning against her a little. She wore a pair of purple mickey mouse ears to match her purple romper. Her hair was long enough to reach her back. The humidity made it look frizzier than normal. Majdia was glad that she cropped her hair to shoulder length before moving abroad. It was such a pain when it was longer. Her little brother stood in the middle making a goofy face while wearing a pair of black mickey ears.  

“Is that your little brother?” a girl asked. “He’s adorable!”

“He’s ten, he’s not adorable at all,” Majida countered.

“Oh… yeah my little brother is ten,” another girl chimed in. “He’s a total terror.”

A boy whistled. “Your mom’s hot.”

A nearby girl swiped at the whistler.

“Ha! Got it!” Hayashi held up his phone with a triumphant grin. “That’s who she looks like, Gabrielle Union.”

The other students murmured as they agreed or disagreed.

“Well, my mom’s no actress,” Majida said as she began to type on her phone. “But she does perform.”She held up her phone again showing a picture of her mom from one of her ballet performances.

“Oh cool! She’s a pro.” a boy said as he pointed.”Do you dance too?”

“I do,” Majida answered. “But I prefer basketball.”

“Basketball?” the pretty boy spoke for the first time.

The class looked to him. Some showed their skepticism on their faces. He had been silent for so long they wondered if they were hearing things.

Majida narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”

“What position?” he asked.

“Point guard mostly, but I play shooting guard in a pinch” she answered. “ You?”

“Power forward.” He said as he turned fully to face her.

Majida’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” she looked him up and down. He certainly was tall but and could get taller but he didn’t look particularly powerful. “Not a small forward?”

The pretty boy bristled. “No,” he said sharply.

Majida raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t-”

“What are you doing here?” the pretty boy interrupted her. “There’s no girls team at this school.”

“What!” Majida yelled in english. She shook her head then switched back to Japanese. “No I checked. They didn’t go all the way last year but there definitely is a team.”

The pretty boy shook his head. “They were disbanded after last season.”

Majida stood up abruptly, her chair squeaking with the force. She marched out of the room ignoring the calls from the other students. She didn’t care that the next class was about to start soon. She needed to know right now if there was team at this school or not.

[catraowlady]

Please don't... Lie to yourself. A Brooke Fanfiction.

The room is illuminated with flickering candles, all of them forming a perfect pattern of flames full of passion. Which is only added to the passion I'm feeling right now. This is my favorite moment of the day, when I finally get home and my boyfriend waits for me with food, is there anything better? I was truly lucky to meet him, since I did, my life has changed for good. We just finished our dinner. He takes my hand as I smile at him. “I love you” He says, looking at me with his puppy eyes. Then his expression darkenss. “But you don't love me, do you?” I feel my whole body freeze. The world around me darkens as the only thing I can hear is the faint sound of his voice: “I'm just a cover-up. I'm the one covering your true sexuality, I know it.” My mouth feels dry as I hear him say those words, deep down I can actually feel it, it feels like a knife cutting through my skin, making me suffer. As the knife goes further down I can feel a cold darkness surround me, then… darkness. Darkness followed by a loud scream from the real world. “Brooke! Wake the hell up, are you alright?” I stood up quickly. My breathing was messy, my forehead was full of sweat and I had red eyes. I sighed and fixed myself in the mirror before going out to calm my friends down. They look at me with worried expressions in their eyes, I smile at them and assure them there's nothing wrong. Dani looks at me and smiles, she gestures the seat next to her which I gladly accept. “So… how are things with Mr. Chicago Fire?” I stiffen a bit when I discovered who she was talking about. I just had a nightmare about him, how am I with him? I don't know. Sereena looks at me, as if she was waiting for an answer. “I mean, they are going ok, he's such a sweet guy and his looks are killers, but.” I stopped myself, but what? What's that thing that's making me doubt of our relationship? I know it's something… or someone. I look up and the look on their faces says it all, they are worried about me, but they just don't know and they can't. I shake my head, telling them not to worry about it. Dani smiled at me as she served some coffee, while Sereena just looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I smiled at her and she just rolled her eyes. Dani looks at us and gestures us to follow her to meet the rest of the gang. The night with the guys goes on like usually: Mark and Cole throwing silly insults at each other, Horatio gave us another “meaning of life” speech and the three of us just enjoyed away. When the night ended we made our way back home, I had slacked from the rest of the group to clear my head about Keo, I sighed as I looked down at the text I had just send him. We should break up. That's what it said, how imaginative of myself… “Why did you broke up with him?” I gasped as someone spoke beside me, I turned my head to see Sereena with a raised eyebrow. I just shrugged and sighed, I had no idea of what to answer. “I don't know. Sigh. I guess things weren't working with him, it didn't felt like the romance we started.” I smiled at her, hoping that she would believe me. She just shook her head at me and sighed. “Brooke, did you know that the truth is like poetry? Do you like poetry?” I shaked my head no, I've never liked poetry. “Well I do, so you better be honest with me.”  I looked down and sighed. I had no idea of what to tell her, I mean… She's bisexual and I know she won't have a problem with me, but I'm afraid that if I come out of the closet to her and try to form a relation with her, I'll be even more miserable than I already am. Shall I live outside this closet, hoping for the best to happen? Or should I lie to myself the rest of my days and leave things as they are? “I'm sorry… but I can't…” She looked at me I was a stranger, like if I had become a new person, one that she didn't know. “Do you think I'm an idiot? You think I don't know exactly what's going on? I know you are gay, and I know you are afraid of telling everyone, especially me.” She walked closer to me and sighed. “And I know why: Because you like me, and let me tell you something? I like you too.” I smiled and leaned in to hug her. But she pulled away. “I'm sorry, but I am not dating you until you know who you truly are and accept it. When you stop betraying yourself, come and find me, you know where to go.” And then she just walked away. - This is my entry for this round @hollyashton and I don't know who else is hosting it...

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Hi, I am a fan of the ann/akira ship. I read about your post on the scene you mentioned that got played down in the US version, been wondering, which scene did you mean and what did she say in the Japanese version?Thanks

Sorry for taking so long. ;w; Ok yeah I’m freaking salty, I dunno if this is the whole “too many cooks in one stew” or what but god, why is it so inconsistent. Ahem sorry I’ll explain what I mean by that below, ok, so like just so you know I haven’t finished the english version, but I looked up this one scene, cause I loved the gd scene and cause I couldn’t wait and …..wow they ruined it. Also this is like in the very end game so like spoilers below (now’s your time to look away, ok? good? alright) and yeah I’m gonna compare it to this one other similar scene cause favortism on AtlusUSA’s part, incompetence, or the too many cooks in a stew and they didn’t communicate (I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt and saying it’s the last one). (also, haha sorry for being uber angry in this post, I try not to be angry or negative in ANY posts but alnfdslknfa I CAN’T hold myself back)

Ok so after the MC returns from basically jail/holding-whatever there’s a scene where everyone like looks at him and greets him when he comes back:

Ok so this is from the MC’s POV, he walks in and sees everyone! Awwww. And then the camera pans to each person, starting with Mako and Futaba where they smile, then to Haru and Yusuke who smile and wave respectively (also everyone is letting out happy noises like “haaa! :D” or “aha! :D”), then Ryuji (only Ryu not him and Anne, just Ryu) who also smiles and is uber happy as well…and then there’s Anne….As you can see she’s facing away…

The camera zooms on her only. And then she stands up and turns to the MC dramatically and says:

Okaeri….Aka, “welcome back/home” in english….WELCOME MOTHERFUDGEMONKEYING HOME! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OH MY GOD. THIS FREAKING BLEW MY MIND. It’s small and simple? Yes. Yes it is. But IT’s the fact ANNE says it! I thought if anyone it’d be Ryuji (cause first friend) or Futaba (cause family dynamic, dating or not they’re still close)…BUT NO IT’S ANNE! ANNE GETS TO SAY THIS! IT JUST BLEW MY GD MIND! I won’t lie, this is also a very good book end thing considering she’s the first one he met (and their nice smile/interaction during that time too ;w;). “Okkkkk Silly, why is this a moment? Other than her being the only one who says anything in the cutscene and makes it semi dramatic?” Well dksalnf;andf if “welcome home” as in “oh my god this is your gd home and we’re your friends and we’re family” isn’t enough heartwarming in just that phrase I dunno what is (and ANNE is the one who says that). Usually you say this when someone has come home….like in a family, parents say it to kids, kids say it to parents, siblings say it to each other, parents (or you know…. a couple who lives together ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) *wink wink*) say it to each other etc… So like….there’s those undertones too (if you want to look at it like that, YOU DON’T HAVE TO but it’s there if you WANT), and before you call me out on that just wait a second haha AtlusUSA you shot themselves in the foot on this one and I’m coming for blood. (I’ll say this, and I’ll say this now, the fact that this happened to Anne is not why I’m upset, it’s what they did to the MC and the meaning behind this word and scene and it could’ve been ANY CHARACTER who could’ve said it and I would still be mad. Tbh I think this scene should’ve changed depending on who you romanced, with that person getting to say the phrase, but considering Anne can be such a bro sometimes I guess it’s ok cause of ambiguity….but yeah…It’s not cause of Anne but it’s a salty smack to Anne/MC shippers’ faces :/)

Ok so why am I the most livid of livid? You wanna know how they translated it?  You wanna know what she says in the english dub? DO YOU WANNA KNOW? I DON’T THINK YOU WANNA GD KNOW! FINE THIS IS WHAT SHE SAYS:

(yes that was my freaking reaction)

HAHA EXCUSE ME?!  “Hey there”….”HEY THERE?” GOD CHRIST ON A CRACK I WOULD’VE TAKEN “YOU’RE BACK!” IN LIKE A SUPER RELIEVED, ALMOST TEARY EYED VOICE ATLUSUSA! I WOULD’VE BEEN FINE WITH IT! NOT THIS LOAD OF MONKEY BUTT! ‘HEY THERE’ HAHAHAHAAAAAA I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY DID THAT…MOTHER OF…THEY COULD’VE FIT “WELCOME BACK/HOME” IN THE LIP MOVEMENTS! THEY SHOULD’VE USED “WELCOME HOME!” IT’S NOT JUST THE ANNE MOMENT (christ anyone could’ve said it and I’d still be miffed, Yusuke could’ve said it and I’d advocate for the ShuKita fans that this was BS), IT’S THE FACT THAT THIS SCENE LOST THE “THIS IS YOUR HOME” MOMENT FOR THE MC! LIKE WOW GOOD JOB ATLUSUSA! 

No really what were they thinking here? “Oh maybe the mouth movements-” NOPE! They did “welcome home/back” (or in Kanji’s case “it’s good to see you senpai”) in P4G bonus ending, which proves you can fit it into the mouth movements (among countless other animes that have done it too), SO WHAT THE HECK IS THIS? And same with the reverse, tadaima/I’m home, they did that in PQ’s P3 Side ending! The MC says that! THIS ISN’T NEW ATLUS WHY IS IT JUST “HEY THERE”?! It looses the gd impact. So yeah “played down” is a bit of an understatement imo. ;w;

“Ok Silly, you’re upset, I get it. But maybe they just wanted to mix things up for P5 instead?” Ha…haha….HAHAHAHAHAHAHA EFF NO THEY DID NOT! They did this earlier in the game, but from what I could tell AtlusUSA decided to get creative with it (even adding to the gd romantic aspect, which they robbed for Anne shippers), ohhhhh some of you might know what I’m talking about this one right here:

Original Japanese:

Goro: Welcome HomeMC: I’m backGoro: You’re back pretty late.

Ok, fairly normal. I mean it is a common phrase in japanese and it’s not solely tied to a romantic aspect. I think Goro might have been joking around since Goro himself doesn’t live there (but I can’t hear any comedic undertones in his voice so…yeah…I dunno, it just feels matter of fact).

Oh…but what does AtlusUSA do?

English Version:

Oh…wow….WOWIE ATLUSUSA! SO YOU CAN TRANSLATE IT AS “WELCOME HOME!”  YOU JUST DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT WHEN IT WAS EMOTIONALLY HEARTWARMING YOU JERKS! NOPE WE HAD TO MAKE A JOKE HERE! EVEN THO THERE (most likely) WASN’T REALLY ONE TO BEGIN WITH!

Like, no this is not ok. You can have the gd haha Goro scene I don’t care, just why’d you have to screw with the freaking heartwarming team moment???? WHY ATLUSUSA?Ugh….they should’ve delayed the game, there’s so much going on with this game’s translation (mostly some word salad and some inconsistencies or small problems….among other things), I think they should’ve delayed the game one more time, like the more I talk with other people I think this delay from Feb was mostly cause of the other games that were coming out at that time and wanted to avoid competition rather than fixing the script. I really think they needed to go over the script a few more times, we probs wouldn’t have gotten the game till summer/late spring but at least I wouldn’t be judging this game to hell and back (I also blame AtlusJP for not giving AtlusUSA the game earlier/more time like…..c’mon man you have so much dialogue in your game you couldn’t cut them some slack and give them the game, or at least script, early 2016 or late 2015?) I really hope that if they re-release an updated version of this game it includes them reworking the script, kinda like the one SAO game that had a horrible script on Vita but then they redid it for the PS4 release (then again they’d probs have to redub some things so maybe they won’t). I’m sorry but I’m just very upset, cause this is also ruining my enjoyment of the game even tho I don’t want it to…and it just really sucks….yeah….

[darkcrowprincess]

I can't wait!!!

6k words and counting for the JayTim spite fic… 🫡

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace Chapter 1- A small stumble

The long-awaited, actually edited, complete first chapter of the novel that I began for NaNoWriMo 2019! Please, like, reblog, but most of all, COMMENT!

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm. 

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, so she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all, but most importantly, why they’re drawn to each other in the first place.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil covering a multi-planar universe, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit. 

——————————————————————————————–

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn’t going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so… ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don’t need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my ‘attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn’t have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn’t actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn’t dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn’t even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don’t seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn’t too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn’t sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don’t know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don’t mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can’t quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

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

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don’t see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I’m so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don’t even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don’t worry! Neither do I! ”

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

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn’t really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could. 

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway. 

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don’t look behind us!“ 

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. 

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don’t get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually. 

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm. 

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound. 

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of. 

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did. 

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure. 

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about…that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night. 

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck. 

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?”

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn’t fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it’s postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it’s whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too. 

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It’s thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore. 

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage. 

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn. 

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again. 

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important. 

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?” 

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me. 

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just…stop like that. It didn’t make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

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

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

“It’s not the Four Seasons, but it’ll do for now. It’s kinda cold- I don’t think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least.”

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

“That was…was that…I don’t even know where to start. My brain’s been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?”

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a…sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals…see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see…something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for…what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

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