#mar and jake chapter six

[gt-abby]

Mar and Jake- Chapter 6

Here we go folks, the 6th chapter of this story is ready, so I'm giving it to you now. I'd very much appreciate it if you could reblog this.

Also if anyone wants to be in the tag list, send me a message I'll tag you when I release the 7th chapter!

Current tag list: @soakedmilkgt

1st Chapter Chapter five chapter six (you're here) chapter seven

----- 3000~ words

Mar never thought this would happen. She felt extremely dehumanized. As Jake walked, the bag shook. She saw him raise the bag flap, place her phone inside and close it, as he continued walking. She felt like a doll, like someone’s secret. She was hidden away and had no way of knowing what’s going on outside, where she was, or what time it was. She was surrounded by Jake’s things: a pen, a notebook, an apple, and a few more things she couldn’t identify. She was just one of his things, that he may or may not remember he put in his bag. She wanted to tell him this was wrong, that he couldn’t treat her that way. But in reality, she really couldn’t tell him what to do- he was so much bigger than her, he was the one in control. And he chose to hide her way yet within reach so he could do with her as he pleased. She wanted to tell herself he would never do such a thing, he’s a good person, he treated her so well in the past few days, but in the end, she was powerless in comparison to him- so the fear that he might mistreat her was always lingering. He was already mistreating her, anyway.

A sudden movement pulled her away from her depressing thoughts as she felt like the bag was gently placed down and the flap raised as giant hands lowered down and reached for her. That image was scary to her, she didn’t know who that was until Jake’s face appeared with a smile. He must have seen her face because his smile dropped.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked her, his hands freezing in place, hovering above her. But Mar shook her head. She didn’t even know how to explain how much she hated this, so she said nothing. He also sat there not knowing what to say. But there was little time to spare, so he reached inside and grabbed her with one hand, holding her like an ice cream cone and placed her on the dashboard.

“This isn’t very safe, but I figured you’d like it here better.”

Mar looked around and saw she was in a car- Jake’s car. Jake started his car and began driving, the sudden movement almost tipping her over. As he drove to his university, Mar watched from the dashboard, sitting on it with her legs spread to the side and her arms stabilizing her posture. Her broken leg still throbbed, but it was more manageable now. She watched him drive, carefully as to not make any sudden stops lest she fall, and she decided this was the perfect time to talk to him about her reservations.

“Jake, I’m sorry but this… I can’t do this; it feels really dehumanizing how you treated me this morning. Being inside of your bag it’s … it’s just wrong. I’m not one of your things, I -I really hope you don’t see me that way.”

“Of course I don’t see you as one of my things, that’s the last thing I’d want you to think but… I’m not very good at this. I’m sorry, I’ve never dealt with a small person before. I don’t think anyone has, so it’s hard for me to know what to do… I’m doing my best to help you, and I can’t afford to see you hurt yourself again, so I have to be able to be there for you, make sure you’re okay.”

“But I am okay,” Mar was quick to respond to him. “You don’t need to worry about me so much, there’s not much I can do anyways, especially now that I can’t even walk.”

“I’m sorry, you’re a danger to yourself, Mar, I saw you trying to walk last night and even with the chance of you doing that again and hurting yourself more when I’m not home… I can’t risk it.”

Mar turned red with anger. Did he really not trust her that much? So much so that he has to take away her autonomy? She turned to face away from him. She was so angry she couldn’t even talk to him anymore.

Jake sighed. “Look, this day is pretty short for me, anyway, and we’re already here. I’ll make it up to you when we get home, okay?” He knew he messed up. He could see she was holding back tears, but he had no time left to lose. He parked his car in the university parking lot and looked at all the other students walking around, from their cars and on to the grounds, towards the big entrance doors. Anyone could just walk to close and see her. He really didn’t want anyone to see her.

“Please, Mar, just this once. I can’t bear to see you get hurt.” He was pleading at this point. Begging her to let this go. She sighed heavily, trying to prevent the tears from rising up. He was just protecting her. He was only taking care of her the best he could… right?

“Okay, okay. Fine. Whatever. There’s not much I can do anyway, right?” she chuckled nervously, sarcastically. Jake knew she wasn’t joking. He heard the distress in her voice. But there really wasn’t much they could do.

“You ready?” he asked her, before even moving his palms towards her.

“Y-yeah… let’s hope this goes quickly.” He cupped her in his hands.

“I’ll put you in a safer place, okay? Closer to me. If there’s anything you need or want, absolutely anything, just poke me, alright?”

She nodded. He then placed her in an inner pocket of his jacket. He took the bag, slid the strap over the shoulder that was on the side she was at as to not squish her with it and got up, opening the door, locking the vehicles behind him and walking towards the entrance doors. He was late, but he didn’t dare break into a run. He just walked as fast as he could, while holding the bag in one place and the pocket Mar was in in another.

Entering the lecture hall, Jake sat at the back and opened his jacket, so that Mar could have more space. He leaned in and opened his bag, taking out his notepad and immersing himself in the lecture.

Mar watched his looming figure from inside the jacket. The smell was weird and overwhelming. Not bad per se, but not exactly pleasant either. She was sitting there awkwardly, here broken leg sort of leaning on her healthy leg to prevent any weight from being put on it as she leaned back onto the fabric. Suddenly the jacked was opened again and her phone was slid down into the pocket she was in. Mar was again reminded of Jake’s thoughtfulness and she could not help but let a small smile slide onto her face.

She unlocked it and began playing silently with the games she had installed to spend the otherwise boring time she has to spend, hidden away in plain sight.

—

Before they knew it, the lecture ended. Jake got up and walked over to his friends, saying hello, how are you etc. Mar blushed. There was something exciting about being hidden yet surrounded by a lot of people. As if she was invisible. She didn’t exactly know whether she liked this excitement or not, though. She listened to their conversation, and wondered whether Jake forgot about her or not. Was she so small she could be so easily forgotten?

“Hey Jake,” Mar suddenly heard a voice approach. “Can I have you for just a minute?”

“Umm sure, what’s happening, Emily?” Mar felt him walk a bit backwards before stopping. But before he could react, Emily pulled back his Jacket and revealed his tiny companion. The sudden movement made Mar feel a bit sick, but when she was revealed she instinctively cowered deeper into the pocket.

“I knew it, you have a tiny friend!” Emily half-shouted triumphantly. Jake quickly pulled the jacket from her and held it close to his body, ending up smushing Mar against him unknowingly. Both were blushing. Jake shushed Emily and pulled her towards a more private area where he was sure there was no one watching or listening. She was smiling broadly.

“How did you know?” he asked her quietly, still holding Mar close to him, her face turning bright red as she could feel his body emitting warmth, only a shirt preventing her from touching his bare skin.

“Educated guess.” Emily shrugged.

“No, be serious, Em, I can’t afford to.. oh… the parking lot …” He face palmed. Mar face palmed as well. That was the only time she was out in plain sight.

Emily smiled again, “bingo”, she laughed. “Come on, who is it? Someone I know? God I wish, this could be great.”

“What’s so great about it?”

“Now I know there are more people like me! Oh come on, show me!” she tried pushing his arm away but he persisted.

“Like… you?”

“Yeah, I never told anyone. But if I show you, you promise not to tell?”

“Only if you promise not to tell or invade my space again.” His voice had a hint of annoyance. ‘Our space’, Mar thought to herself. She prayed he won’t show her, but she couldn’t really do anything about that. She prepared herself to be manhandled again.

Jake then opened the jacked again and looked down at Mar, she nodded at him before he reached in and held her up to Emily’s face- which covered Mar’s entire field of vision. Emily gasped with a big smile.

“Hello! You’re not someone I know yet!” Emily’s giant eyes were examining Mar and that made her feel exposed, as if she were naked. Even if she wanted to reply she could take bring herself to speak. “Why are you hiding? Can’t you grow back?” Emily’s smile faded when she saw Mar’s face. She saw how terrified she was, how much she wanted to disappear. Mar shook her head and lowered her gaze. She felt tears well up again and she hated it. She hated that feeling that was so common to her in the past few days. She felt so vulnerable and helpless yet again. Emily refrained from touching Mar even though she wanted to, and it showed with the hands that were reaching, shaking faintly, towards the tiny figure.

“Do you… mind putting her on the table? Just for a moment.” Emily’s gaze returned to Jake, and so did Mar’s. Jake looked at Mar as if asking her and she nodded approvingly. He did so. Mar sat there awkwardly between two giants, not sure where to look, so she looked at the ground. Only then did Emily notice her broken leg. Before Mar knew it, Emily placed her hand in front of Mar and then, in a blink of an eye, they were at eye level.

Emily smiled broadly again. Mar and Jake gasped. Mar at first was worried, thinking she was shrunk against her will like her, but she saw Emily wasn’t panicking- rather she looked proud of it. She then took mar in for a tight hug. Mar was overwhelmed with emotion. Her eyes began dripping with salty watery tears as she hugged her back even tighter. Mar never thought she would feel a proper hug again ever in her life. Jake, on the other hand, was still in complete shock. He had seen Emily a lot on campus and even interacted with her on numerous times but he could have never guessed that she could transform like that. He never expected to see someone he knew, or thought he knew so well, have a whole entire other life, especially a magical ability. He watched the two tiny women on the table cry and laugh and talk with each other as his mind raced. He thought whatever was happening to Mar was only happening to her, as it sounded like from what she told him about her “dream”. But it seemed like there was a whole other world underneath the one he’s been living his whole life that which he was unaware of.

After a while, Mar let go of her new friend and laughed awkwardly, apologizing.

Jake then caught Emily’s gaze and all the question in his head spilled out of his mouth.

“Emily, I’d never have guessed you can do that, what? How? When? Who else? Is there anyone else?”

“Okaaay, calm down, cowboy, I’ll explain everything later. How about I come over this evening and we could talk privately and properly?” Emily looked between them as they nodded. She then shifted back to Jake’s size and winked at Mar, “see you both later.” And walked away swiftly.

Jake looked at Mar and saw the big smile on her tiny face. He chuckled. He’s never seen her so happy before. They exchanged looks before he placed her back in her designated pocket and on continued with his day.

—

Mar and Jake finally returned home and Jake quickly made them both something to eat. As they were eating Mar asked him, “hey, if I want to, say, take a shower, how can we make that happen?”

“You excited for Emily’s visit?” He teased her.

“Well… yes but that’s not the point,” She hoped to God he couldn’t see her blush. “I haven’t washed myself in days, and I’ve been wearing the same clothes ever since I, well, got this way,” Mar gestured at herself.”

Jake thought to himself for a while. A shower wouldn’t be possible, but a bath could, if they designate a bowl for it in the sink. The bigger problem was the clothes. They had nothing in her size. He could go out quickly and get doll clothes, but they might not fit her or be of a good enough quality. He could wash the ones she was shrunk with and dry them rather quickly. The biggest problem they had, though, was her bandages. They needed to replace them anyway. He relayed those thoughts to Mar quickly and waited for her decision. She opted for the bath and the quick washing of her clothes. So with Jake’s help they arranged everything- he placed a big enough yet not too deep bowl in the bathroom sink and filled it up with water and a bit of soap and mixed it up. He placed Mar next to the sink and walked out of the room. Mar then took off the bandages and clothes for the first time. She covered herself in hand towel and called him back in to take the clothes to wash them. After he left, she got into the bowl and began washing herself. That was extremely relaxing. She tried her best to ignore the fact she was bathing in a freaking bowl, one she probably ate cereal out of once. She pushed the thought away and continued washing herself out of the sweat and grime of the past few days.

In the meantime, Jake hand washed her teeny tiny clothes. He couldn’t help but feel those butterflies in his stomach, they were so small… he could fit his pinkie though the neck hole of the shirt. He could barely hold her socks between two fingers without losing them, so he placed them in a small bowl to keep track of them. As he rubbed the shirt against his other palm to rub off any stains that he couldn’t see even if he tried, he began to worry about Mar again- what if she fell and couldn’t get back up because of her injury? What if she’s calling for help and he can’t hear her? But what if he barges in and invades her privacy? His heart became heavier with every worrying thought that came to his mind. He finished washing Mar’s clothes and went over to the bathroom, knocking at the door.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, worry rising in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good, just give me a few more minutes.” He heard her shout through the door.

With a soft reassured smile, he returned to the kitchen and held Mar’s tiny clothes up on one palm, while another hand held up a hairdryer to his palm and began drying them.

After a while, he came back to mar, who covered herself with the towel again and gave back her freshly clean clothes, folded as best he could (he failed but Mar didn’t say anything), and new bandages and toothpicks. Mar carefully wrapped her leg again and put on her clothes as Jake waited for her outside the door, then took her back to the living room.

“Ah, I feel much better now.” She said with a smile. Jake returned her a smile and looked at his watch. It was already almost nighttime, and Emily hasn’t arrived yet. He contemplated calling her when he realized he didn’t have her number.

“Why don’t we watch television until she arrives?” Jake asked Mar, trying to mask his nervousness. He was still in shock, unable to grasp the fact that she can shift her size like that. Has he been blind to the world around him all this time? Maybe there were so many hints and clues that he had totally missed.

Mar looked up at Jake from the coffee table and saw he wasn’t really watching with her, As he just tuned on the TV, staring at it with his leg jerking up and down nervously. She was about to ask him what he was so deep in thought about when they both heard a knock on the door

Mar agreed and he turned on the TV, still deep in thought. Is there anyone else he knew that had superpowers related to their size? Could Mar perhaps learn to change her size and become like Emily? So many questions he couldn’t wait to ask.

[myjjongie]

♯┆FIGHTING FOR FIRST ── P. JONGSEONG.ᐟ SMAU

PAIRING: college student!jay x college student fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: you and jay have been at each others throats for the whole time you've been enrolled at decelis university. the reason for the rivalry in question? the #1 rank on the academic leaderboard in the university. you went through your whole high school life being #1 on the academic leaderboard. you meet jay, who also had the same upbringing in high school. things then start to turn into a constant battle. leaving you constantly in second place and jay in first place every rank update.

GENRE: smau plus written parts (will be specified), college au, enemies to friends to lovers, academic rivals, pining, he fell first but is in heavy denial in the beginning (sigh), fluff, crack

FEATURING: enhypen (all members) p1harmony (keeho) riize (sohee & seunghan) aespa (ningning) + mentions of other idols

WARNINGS: kys/kms jokes, swearing, friendly bullying, inappropriate jokes, mentions of alcohol and drinking (done wisely)

SCHEDULE: every tuesday and friday (will upload early sometimes)

TAGLIST: open ! just send me a ask :D

STATUS: 11/19/2024 - ongoing

PLAYLIST: APT rose ft. bruno mars, all i wanted paramore, r u mine? artic monkeys, poison nct dream, you get me so high the neighbourhood, i wanna be yours artic monkeys, something about you eyedress ft. dent may, my kind of woman mac demarco, glue song beabadoobee, cherry waves deftones, sextape deftones, you nctdream

A. NOTE: noticed not that many people write smaus for jay, so here i am…. first time making a smau as well. i hope you guys like it !! i think thats all i have to say. enjoy this :3

PROFILES.ᐟ ─── (bad bitches + jake)

(thing 1,2,3,4,5) (bonus)

CHAPTERS ─────────୨୧⋆ ˚

one. IM GONNA (K)eep (M)yself (S)afe

two. YAY JAKEY

three. im sooooooooooo drunk rn hehe

four. my girls face card never declines

five. why is bro thirst trapping on my timeline rn..

six. and im not fine shyt

seven. my biggest fans ever chat ! (wc; 821)

eight. then i crashed out and DIED

nine. HOLY FUCK SPEAK OF THE DEVIL BRB

ten. #STANDUPQUEEN

eleven. HE ONLY SHOWED HALF OF HIS FACE

twelve. stage 1. acceptance

thirteen. rest in piss yn

fourteen. jake crashout before GTA6

fifteen. womp womp :3

sixteen. we need to talk (wc; 1.2k)

seventeen. FUCK OFF JAKE SIM

eighteen. i live in a world

nineteen. are you wasted rn?

twenty. yeah i'm goated ik (wc; 2k)

twentyone. oh jaaaayyyy :3

twentytwo. i fear. maybe. maybe he wants you??? (wc; 651)

more tba....

fighting for first taglist (open)...

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @right-person-wrong-time @jakeyverse @minthoons @punchbug9-blog @starfallia @heartheejake @ikeulove @rairaiblog @kazemiya @yourssincerely-mimi @wondipity @leehsngs @justalittle-hee @chandmyseven @letwiiparkjay @dylanobr1ens @bbsantc @beigerin @mwahvvis @nickiminajleftasscheek @firstclassjaylee @strayy-kidz @itrytomakesenseofitall @rikizm @sumzysworld @jiheonie @heelovesmeknot @qfeet @jungwoniee @yuyamihi @jayhoonvroom

©myjjongie 2024

[vanfleeter]

Bound For Earth: Chapter 1

Summary: After being born and living on Mars for twenty-seven years, Jake longs to be normal and live on Earth; but adapting to a different atmosphere, there poses risks to being on Earth. Jake sneaks on board the next cruiser heading to Earth to try to live out what he's always dreamed of doing, when he meets a young woman who helps him live out his dreams and uncover a family secret. (A twist on The Space Between Us)

Characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka

Warnings: 18+ || Language. Mentions of sex. Angst. (Warnings will be detailed as story unfolds)

A/N: Posting the first chapter to gauge some interest and if this will continue. Though this chapter is kind of small to start with, I do welcome feedback.

From the minute we were discovered, we were never normal humans. Our mother, Eliza Marks, was selected as the few astronauts to travel out into space to colonize and create a livable environment on Mars. She was smart for only being twenty three at that time. Explore Tech selected her at only eighteen to train at one of NASA’s facilities in Texas.

That’s where she met our father, Paul.

Dad.

We’ve never gotten to meet him in person. Not sure if we ever will.

When our mother was selected to pioneer this mission to Mars, no one had a clue that she was pregnant and neither did she until the team was two months into the mission, still traveling through space to get to the red planet. The pregnancy was a controversial topic when the information was leaked to the public. Board members back at the facility demanded that she come back to Earth but they all knew it would be dangerous, more dangerous than giving birth on a foreign planet under different conditions. Her pregnancy was labeled high risk. They monitored her every day as her pregnancy progressed.

And when the time came, she gave birth to my twin, whom they thought was the only one–until I came out next. They weren’t expecting twins. They ever saw one baby on the scans. Guess I’m just that good at hiding. Our mother survived the pregnancy and the birth but we were kept separate from her for the first couple months as they now monitored us.

My brother and I made history, so I guess that’s an achievement at only a few seconds old. We are the first human beings born on a different planet.

As we grew older, we learned fairly quickly that Mars was definitely different from Earth and therefore, we have a very low chance of ever surviving there. Gravity on Mars is lesser than the gravity on Earth. We were born in a lighter atmosphere. We may be human, having been created by two Earth born humans, but our bodies are different. Our bones grew differently due to the atmospheric pressure within the space station built on Mars and our organs are just the same. They fear that if we were ever to travel to Earth, that our bodies wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure. Our hearts are the risk factors, grown larger than the average human being.

So for twenty-seven years, we were raised on the Mars station, never having met our father who is still living on Earth. He has tried to join a mission to come to Mars and be with us, but he’s failed his tests each and every time so he’s had to stay behind. Or so that’s what we’ve been told. But that doesn’t stop him from communicating with us. He’s watched us grow up over video calls, so he hasn’t really missed a thing.

Our mother travels back and forth once a year. Except for one time when we were three years old, she hadn’t come back until we were six. For those three years, we communicated with her only the same way we had with our father. We never knew why she hadn’t come back in those years, and we still don’t.

I’ve had this nagging feeling inside of me that they have to be hiding something. Why would she not come back for three years? What happened on Earth that prevented her from coming back? That feeling started when we turned thirteen and grew curiouser about Earth and the family we never got to meet, but eventually we grew out of it by seventeen when we began to realize that no matter how many questions we ask, we won’t ever get the answers.

Over our lifetime spent on Mars, we still grew up as normal as possible. Of course we were “homeschooled” but aside from textbooks and online classes, we were taught hands-on lessons in technology, science, and agriculture. Within the station, the engineers built a garden, testing how plants could potentially grow using the soil on Mars. Though this soil is less likely to sustain plant growth, they are still determined to figure out a way for it to work.

Josh’s domain is all of agriculture. He loves to watch plants grow and produce new life. While my domain is electronics and technology.

I’ve illegally downloaded movies and music. I mean, what could they possibly do to someone on a different planet? I love music and I love watching videos of other people playing the guitar. No matter how many times I have asked, the Earth facility won’t send me one. They don't do much anyways. We live off of videos and soundwaves. So I live vicariously through people on Earth.

If I ever get the chance to go to Earth, the first thing I’m going to do is find a guitar. My fingers long to pluck the strings. Sometimes at night while I lay in bed, I’ll listen to guitar instrumentals and memorize how each note should sound. Josh thinks I’m weird whenever he catches me air playing notes with my fingers while I aimlessly work on coding classified documents.

Funny..

I’m granted access to knowing classified government documents, yet I’m still not allowed to know why our mother was gone for those three years.

“I thought you gave that up?” Josh asked me one day. “What kind of secret do you honestly think they’d be keeping from us?”

“I don’t know.. It’s just..odd.”

“Maybe she was sick..”

“For three years? Come on Josh..”

Looking out of my window as I do nearly every night, I stare out at the same old horizon of Mars, longing to just get off this planet. I spent my entire life here and I want to go somewhere new. I want to go to Earth. For no specific reason other than to experience Earth in person and not through a screen or a hologram.

Off in the distance is a bright light, burning against the darkness of space. It grows closer and closer and suddenly a voice comes over the intercom announcing the arrival of the shuttle making its descent to the station.

Mom.

Climbing down from the window, I leave my cabin and make my way through the cabins to loading docks. Josh catches up to me and we stop once we meet up with the group already awaiting the arrival of the onboarders. Being two of the shorter people at this station, we have to stand somewhat on our tiptoes to see over the heads of the other colleagues.

“Do you see her?” Josh asks as he struggles to see over the sea of heads.

“No, not yet. There’s so many of them this time.” I say. “Maybe she’s in the back of the group.”

As the group dissipates to start mingling with the current members, I finally spot Mom and a smile breaks out on my face. “Mom!” I shout out over the ongoing conversations. When she catches my eyes, she matches my smile and weaves through the small crowd until she’s standing in front of the two of us.

“My boys!” She exclaims. “Gosh I’ve missed you!” She envelopes us in a hug and kisses both of our foreheads. “Come, come. It’s nearly dinner time and I am starving.”

–

“Give me any and all updates from this past year,” Mom says as we sit down at the table with our trays of food. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Josh took the ATV out again and flipped it.”

Josh swings his legs beneath the table, kicking my shin with the toe of his boot. “Shut up..”

Mom sighs, shaking her head. “Joshua, I thought we said you couldn’t drive that thing anymore?”

Josh huffs, rolling his eyes before shooting me a glare. “Mom, it was an accident.”

“Just like the last three times?” She inquires. “No more driving the ATV.”

“And you, Jacob? What were you up to while I was gone?” She now asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. “Same old, same old.” I say as I stab my fork into a green bean. “Coding, research, looking at stupid classified files.”

Mom lays her hand over top of mine and gives me a sympathetic smile. “I think it’s time you try something new.”

“Like what?” I say. “There isn’t anything for me to do. Josh is all over agriculture, and I have no green thumb.”

“That I can attest to,” Josh says as he chumps on a green bean. “I gave him a seed to grow. He got a bud and then it died after two weeks.”

I kicked him once more beneath the table and dropped my fork back down on the tray. “I’m not hungry..” I mutter as I stand from my spot at the table. Against my mother’s protests, I grab my tray and walk over to the trash bin along the wall and dump it in before leaving the common area and heading back to my cabin.

So what if I don’t have a green thumb? Does everyone have to have one?

I had only been lying on my bed for a little while before I heard a knock at the door. Sighing, I call out for the door open and glides effortlessly apart revealing my mother. A concerned look graces her face and I huff a breath before turning over.

“Jake, honey, what’s bothering you?” She asks as she sits at the edge of my bed.

“Nothing..”

“Jacob..” I feel her hand rest on my shoulder before she’s gently pushing down to me back over. “You may be a grown man, but you are still my baby boy..” She says. “I know when something’s bothering you, so talk to me. What is it?”

“It’s stupid,” I say. “Because I know as soon as I mention it, you’ll say ‘no’ like you have been my entire life.”

Her eyes close as she sighs. Here we go. “Jake, you know how dangerous it can be if you go down to Earth. Honey, your body won’t be able to handle it.”

“Don’t you realize how much it sucks to live up here?” I say as I sit up. “We have no real connections to other humans besides the same old colleagues of yours for the last twenty years. There’s never been any other kids up here our whole lives.”

“I know..”

“Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like had you been back on Earth instead when you had us.. We have family, Mom. Family that we’ve never met because we’re stuck up here. I want to be normal, I want to see something different other than the red barrenness of this damn planet.”

“If there was a way that we could help the two of you survive on Earth, we would do it–I would do it in a heartbeat. I want nothing more than to have my family together but there’s nothing I can do. If you go down there, you will die. Maybe not right away but after a while you will. The conditions will be much too great for your heart.”

“My heart is fine, Mom..”

“Maybe up here it is because your body grew in a way it needed to to adapt to the environment on this planet, but on Earth? Jake, the atmospheric pressure would be too hard on you. We can’t risk that.”

I huff and roll off the bed to stand to my feet. “I’m twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight, and I haven't even had sex yet.”

“I feel that would be a conversation with your father.”

“Oh Mom.. Don’t you get it? I want to be someone. I want to be a normal human with a normal life. I want to meet a beautiful woman a-and experience love, Mom. I want what you and Dad have. I want what’s in the movies. How can I experience that when I’m stuck on this planet with a bunch of old geezers?”

“Hey now, not all of us are old.”

“You know what I mean..” I lean against the wall and stare out the window from across the room. “I want to feel the sun on my skin. I want to swim in the ocean. I want to learn how to play the guitar. I want to fall in love, I want to have sex like a normal human being. I want those things but that can't happen when I’m here.”

“Jake, eventually we’ll be sending more people up here to grow the community. Maybe there’ll be a beautiful woman for you to fall in love with.”

“When will that ever happen though?” I scoff, shaking my head. “We’ve been told that over and over again for the last decade. ‘Oh we’re sending more people’, ‘Soon we’ll have a whole colony on Mars’. How soon is ‘soon’?”

“It’s getting closer, trust me.” Mom gets off the bed and walks over to me, gently placing her hand on my cheek. “I promise, everything will work out and you will get to experience love. I want that for my boys. You deserve it. But for now, just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re doing wonderful things.” She gives me a kiss on my cheek before opening the cabin door and leaving.

______________________________________________________________

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[veroticker]

Love the one you’re with - Lauren Layne

Summary (from Lauren Layne’s website)

As a leading columnist for Stiletto, Grace Brighton has built a career warning women about rotten, cheating liars. She just never suspected her fiancé would be one of them. After Grace takes a heart-mending hiatus, her first assignment is to go on a couple of dates with a counterpart from the men's magazine Oxford and report her impressions.

Grace one-point-zero may have been instantly smitten with the gorgeous correspondent, but Grace two-point-zero has sworn off relationships for six months, and she's not falling for his outstanding bod and trophy-winning kisses...or is she?

Jake Malone wants to get back to the fly-by-night, who-knows-what's-next guy he used to be, and he knows exactly how to do it. Oxford is adding a travel section, and Jake - with no wife and no kids and a willingness to live anywhere, eat anything, do everything - is perfect for the job...except that his playboy reputation makes his new editor nervous.

To get the gig, he must agree to a fluffy joint article with Stiletto. But after just one date with snooty, sumptuous, sensational Grace Brighton, Jake starts taking this assignment a whole lot more seriously.

Blurb

“See, the guy had been pretty dead-on in his assessment of her, but there was one very important detail that he hadn’t hit on. The job that enabled her to wear her “tight skirts and high heels”? That job just happened to be a career in this very type of thing.

Reading men.

And then writing about it.

Sure, Greg might have pulled the wool over her eyes—maybe stomped her ego a little bit—but Grace was determined to regain her title as Stiletto magazine’s expert on men and the games they played. She wasn’t one of the lead columnists of the country’s best-selling women’s magazine for nothing.

And this guy was exactly what she needed to get back in the saddle.

“So let’s see,” she said, resting her head against the back of the seat and mimicking his posture. “You work out religiously, probably to counteract the scattering of gray hairs popping up prematurely at your temples. I say prematurely, because you’re only thirty-three, but you work hard and you play hard, and you hate like hell that you can’t control your hair as easily as you do your biceps. Your job requires you to be endlessly charming, something that you happily carry over to your personal life, which I’m guessing means your longest relationship is somewhere in the proximity of … four months? Give or take. You fancy yourself a New Yorker, but your accent smacks of small-town Midwest—something you probably hate, though you’d never tell your parents, whom you’re close to.”

Grace paused to take a breath.

“It’s never occurred to you that a woman wouldn’t want to share her cab with you, and now you’ll spend the rest of the day wondering why I wasn’t fishing for a reason to give you my number. Then you’ll forget all about me tomorrow when the next tight skirt catches your eye. Also, your one-night stand with Miss Tribeca guarantees you’re wearing yesterday’s suit, although I’m guessing you drew the line on dirty underwear, which means you’re currently commando, which, in conclusion, I would like to point out is completely disgusting.”

As if on cue, the taxi came to a stop in front of her office building, and she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and leaned over to tuck it neatly into his suit jacket pocket.

“How’d I do?” she asked sweetly, her hand already going for the door handle.

He moved quickly, reaching out a hand to grab her wrist even as he pried open her fingers and placed the twenty back into her palm. “Not bad,” he said, his voice husky.”

(review under the cut)

Review

Oh did I enjoy this one more than the first of the series! Jake Malone is sure a better male main character than Mitchell Forbes regarding seduction. He makes for a better book boyfriend, I think. And Grace, with her apparent innocence and her actually mischevious mind, is also a better female main character. And their chemistry is incredible.

The contest between them brings witty and interesting dialogues, a banter that makes every one of their encounter a great scene to read. And in the end, they forget their goal and everything gets real. The romance is THERE, hot and sweet and fun.

It was also really fun to see all the other characters get into the game and have their opinion about the relationship--except some who see very early how real it has become. It reminded me of Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, with bonus sexy scenes. And you get a Dating 101 course. What’s not to love?

If you ended lukewarm about the Stiletto series after After the kiss, keep going: it gets better!

Quickie

Series: Stiletto #2

Hashtags: #work assignment #playboy #enemies-to-lovers

Main couple: Grace Brighton & Jake Malone

Hotness: 4/5

Romance: 5/5

+ the contest between men and women through Grace and Jake

- suspension of disbelief required just for the idea that famous magazines would even do that, imho

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Lauren Layne’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Instagram.

She also has a Facebook page, but she’s much more active on Insta.

If you want to enjoy LOVE THE ONE YOU’RE WITH while being less passive, you can “play” the story on Chapters app.

[vertiny-main]

BOOK 2, CHAPTER 10

Masterlist here.

Reactions under the ‘Keep Reading’ cut.

- ‘You look down to see powerful arms wrapped around you. You’re spooning with Sean, who’s still asleep. He holds you close, protective.’ I know I’ve said this a lot, but… I’m soft?

- ‘Aleister sleeps on the hardwood floor beside a bed of pillows he made for Grace.’ AWWWH!

- Zahra’s Tough Choice is about coffee? Lmaooo 😂

- I’m getting some of that dirty bean water! I have a 73% chance of this working and I like those odds, so I’m gonna do it!

- Awh, Zahra saved some coffee just for me? I feel special!

- M’kay, gimme a weapon with infinite ammo and let me go ham on all these guys. I’ll have them done and be back in time for lunch.

- ‘He looks directly at you.’ “But I ain’t gonna let them hurt you. I swear it. I swear it on everything.” …Mar, I’ve truly fallen in love with Jake’s character… Send help to me, please.

- Lmao, of course MC finds the spa.

- Let’s go talk to Michelle, let Diego and Varyyn have their time.

- Michelle “gifting” MC a pot of skin care stuff? I love her.

- Woah, Estela’s mother worked for Rourke?

- Awh, no, not at all! Estela is not being stupid by wanting to find the room her mother was in while she worked there. Sure, Rourke might’ve thrown stuff out and cleaned the place, but there’s a chance she could feel her mother there, or feel closer to her mother. I honestly say go for it.

- Of course Craig and Zahra find a gaming system 😂

- Whose family was in the newspaper clipping???

- ‘Friendship Up! Zahra is now friends with you!’ MY LIL’ HACKER BBY!

- ‘Friendship Up! Craig is now friends with you!’ YES BITCH!

- Now it’s just Aleister and IRIS to get to friend level!

- I’ve said it before, and I’m gonna say it again - Please let Craig and Zahra end up together!

- KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!

- Sorry lmao, no, wait, I’m not, I like them together!

- AHHH!

- “Just tell me you aren’t playing strip poker.” “Without you? Never.” SEAN GAYLE, YOU STOP THAT!

- “Good lord, get a room already.” THAT’S WHAT I SAID IN BOOK 1 ALEISTER!

- “Dude. Dudettes. Dudelings. Doodlejumps.” RAJ YOU ARE A TREASURE AND NEED TO BE PROTECTED!

- Shit, it’s New Year’s Eve already?

- Holy hell, Michelle’s birthday is December 31st? One of my cousin’s birthdays is that day too!

- “Also, MC’s birthday starts at midnight!” Oh shit, it’s MC’s birthday too? Well hey, she shares the same birthday month as me!

- Ooof, Sean looks g o o d in a suit, y’all.

- Quinn’s blue dress looks s t u n n i n g!

- Damn, Jake looks g o o d in a suit too!

- Estela! Sparkly dress! She’s too beautiful! Ahhh!

- Damn, MC’s dress looks hot as all hell!

- We brought the dress because… how could I not?

- I loved that little “compliment” section you get if you buy the dress. 😂

- I don’t know why, but ever since I played TRR, when I come across the choice that lets me pick what I drink, I always pick whiskey… Is it an homage to Drake? Is it my own weird way of picking on him? Who knows? Because I certainly don’t! If it wasn’t obvious, I picked the whiskey.

- I’m gonna say that the New Year is an excuse to party, because I threw out resolutions a long time ago and I’ve never been in a relationship, so I don’t see the appeal of kissing at the countdown, and we don’t really party unless we’re at my cousins, so.

- I’m gonna say that my resolution is to hold onto what matters because you truly never know when it could go.

- Me @ my memory “Please don’t fail me on remembering the birthdays!”

- I DID IT! Oh sweet mercy, I did it!

- WAIT WHAT?! HOW AM I HAVING A VISION BY TOUCHING LILA? IS SHE A GODDAMN IDOL?!?

- OH! IT WAS LILA’S FAMILY IN THE CAR CRASH!

- LILA I SWEAR TO HIGH HEAVENS IF YOU DID SOMETHING TO US…

- “Well I’ve always said I’m cold-blooded!” L I L A HONEY!

- Nope, Raj and Craig, I love the two of you, but do not use flares. You will draw the soldiers to us!

- Let’s spend midnight with lover boy!

- VARYYN JUST ASKED IF HE COULD KISS DIEGO! AHHHHH!

- AHHHHH MY BABIES!!!

- I JUST MADE AN AUDIBLE HIGH PITCHED GASP BECAUSE ZAHRA JUST KISSED CRAIG!!!! YES MY OTP!

- Oooof, the full body images of them in their NYE outfits… Gorgeous!

- PFFFT! “What’s up? Something wrong?” “Yes. Something is very wrong. You and I are not naked.” MC DEAR LORD! 😂

- Why is your first instinct to open a drawer, Sean?

- THESE TWO ARE SO ADORABLE I AM CRYING

- I… I uh… Need a moment. Hot damn 😂 They’ve only just started the *wink wink* and I swear 😂 The Damien Scene Writers wrote this scene 😂😂

- It’s almost 1am… PB don’t be doing this to me.

- Also, what a way to start the year!

- We’re going into her mother’s room. Let’s do this!

- “You’re with me?” HELL YEAH I AM!

- Let’s see what’s on this hidden camera!

- I don’t know if I trust Lila…. This scene with Estela’s mum is iffy.

- LILA WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?

- I’m voting her off the island and that’s a FACT!

- WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?!?!?!?

- I mean, I’m all for Estela getting her revenge against Lila, but the second I saw her name pop up on screen, my mind was like “LILA RUN!”

- Shit is about to go d o w n.

BONUS SCENE

- Aye, we’re back with Yvonne!

- “Such a pity they are all dead.” Honey, think again!

- What’s The Endless doing here?

- I’m assuming the 12 pedestals are for the twelve idols?

- So I assume Yvonne is going to join our merry group again?

- Oh, now we’re going back to six months ago?

- Wait, Lila stayed???

- So was it Lila who was coming and going from the hotel trying to figure out Rourke’s password and shit?

- Well damn.

- So Lila discovered the door that lead to Rourke’s “mancave”

- Wait, how come IRIS didn’t tell us that Lila had stayed behind??

- She has romantic feelings for Rourke, doesn’t she?

- Well fudge. Lila’s a badass, but a betrayer.

- One word… AHHHHH!

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

How do you think beginning of the series Ax would respond if his rescuers were actually trained child soldiers expected to go into combat at their age?

[Sorry that this is a little off-base from what you requested; I just didn’t feel qualified to write about child soldiers and so opted to write about child fighters instead.]

• Aximili has seen photographs of humans before, of course he has.  He studied the single chapter of his xenobiology textbook that covered them (Yuri Gagarin, the text said, Neil Armstrong, and he did his best to remember) when he found out that he’d be accompanying Elfangor on the upcoming mission to Earth.  Nonetheless, he startles when the five strange creatures emerge from the Dome ship’s airlock, firing his dracon beam in quick succession until they have all collapsed on the floor.

He takes a moment to study them before they awaken.  They have artificial skins covering parts of their bodies, which he knew to expect, but some of them have decorations on the skin itself that are strangely beautiful as well: one of them with long yellow hair has dozens of tiny lines, arranged in groups of five, marked on the skin of its shoulder and upper arm.  Another alien with a larger build and a darker shade of golden hair has what must be thousands of feather etchings covering its arms from wrist to wrist, the pattern continuing across its back as if it is permanently in the earliest stages of a morph to some kind of tan-and-brown bird.

The smallest one, whose skin is the darkest shade of brown, becomes the first to sit up.  As it does so, Aximili registers the words written on the inside of its forearm: no peace without justice.  The alien’s companion (long dark hair, perpetually suspicious eyes) name-drops Visser Three so casually that for a second Aximili panics, nearly taking the alien’s head off with his tail blade before he gets control of himself again.

• Slowly they all relax, and Aximili learns their names.  The big one with the dark hair and just one tattoo—of a tiger sitting calmly looking out at the viewer—is Jake, or Big Jake as the others call him.  His cousin with her dozens of tiny hash marks, her claw-shaped fingernails, and her metal-lined teeth is named Rachel, called Xena.  Tobias, or “Hawk,”  is the one with the wings and the shy grey eyes that almost disappear when he ducks his head enough for dirty-blond bangs to fall over his face, and Cassie (“Gaia”) is the small one with the words on her arm.  Marco, or Mars, has the most, and the most beautiful, ink of all of them: words and shapes and images crowd his shoulders, his legs, his knuckles, the back of his neck.  Dios no dio alas a los alacranes, his left forearm says, and James 2:13 splays across his ankle.

“Ax,” Marco says, when Aximili tells them his name.  “Yeah, let’s call you Ax.  Kinda violent, very edgy, I like it.”  Ax sees another tattoo rolling up his left shoulder: Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for I am the evilest son of a bitch in the valley.

“You need a second name,” Rachel (Xena?) explains.  “Otherwise no one will take you seriously.”

• And then they give him the news about Elfangor.

“I’ve lost a brother too,” Jake says softly.  “He was killed a few months ago.  Got caught in the crossfire of some random drive-by on his way home from work.”

“We found them,” Rachel says.  She taps the first three tally marks on her arm in a gesture that Ax doesn’t understand at the time.  “We got our revenge.  You want help getting yours, pretty sure Jake’d be happy to take you on.”

«You are their prince, then?» Ax asks Jake.

All of them look around at each other in sudden uncertainty.

“My brother was the one who made sure we had somewhere to sleep, enough to eat, clothes to wear, the time we needed to stay in school,” Jake explains at last.  “If anyone hurt us he’d hurt them, and if any of us got killed he’d wipe out as many people as it took to even the score.  I inherited all that from him, and I’ve been doing my best to do the same.  That what you mean by a prince?”

«Yes,» Ax says.  «That is exactly what a prince does for his warriors.  Very well then, Prince Jake, I will do my best to serve your mission until such time as my cousins arrive.»

• The six of them spend nearly an hour touring the Dome ship, asking Ax questions as they recuperate and as (he can admit to himself) he delays leaving the only tiny piece of home he has left in this strange world.  He tells them what he can about the ship and how he came to be on it, and in exchange they tell him their stories.

Jake and Rachel were both orphaned three years back, all four of their parents killed when the plane they were taking home from vacation went down in the Caribbean Sea.  All five of them—Jake and his brother, Rachel and her sisters—ended up shipped off to their aunt Ellen’s house, at least at first.

“And then Saddler broke Jordan’s arm,” Rachel growls, voice so hard with anger that Ax takes a step back in fear.  “And Aunt Ellen believed that little twerp when he said it was an accident, that it’d never happen again.  Accident my ass.”

The very next day, Tom had stolen their aunt’s minivan and run away with the lot of them to downtown Los Angeles.  He’d worked three or four jobs while Jake and Rachel got in the habit of shoplifting what Sarah and Jordan needed, and together they’d been able to afford a basement apartment in South LA.  He’d never wanted Jake and Rachel to get caught up in the violence the way some of the kids in their neighborhood did, but then no one planned on him getting killed either.

Marco still technically lives at home with his dad, but it’s not like his dad knows what he gets up to all day, and he and Jake started traveling together because they’re safer in a pair than alone.  The two of them brought first Rachel into the group, then Cassie after Rachel realized Cassie had no one else to go home to at the end of the day.  “I’ve been all over,” Cassie says, “or I was until my one foster sister started drowning chipmunks for fun.  Then I punched her a bunch of times. Ran away.  Settled down.”

Rachel jokes that Tobias followed them home after Jake made the mistake of feeding him.  Ax later learns the real story of how they met, and it’s not nearly that cute: it involves Tobias being cornered by three larger boys in an alleyway.  It involves Jake firing two shots from the gun he inherited from Tom, one into the air, one into someone’s leg.

The story of how Tobias ended up as a runaway in the first place is complicated as well.  “My aunt wanted a niece,” he explains with a wry smile.  “Wanted me to wear dresses and makeup, to have nice long hair, to pretend to be a girl so she wouldn’t have to tell the neighbors about my abnormality.  There was this little typo on my birth certificate, see, and everyone’s been real confused about what to call me ever since.”

«I see,» Ax says, blatantly lying.

• They make a run for it, not too much later, and together they survive their first fight against the yeerks.  Over that afternoon Ax’s respect for this odd group of alien children grows steadily: they never leave one of their own behind, they’re very good at hiding fear under anger, and they know how to scan constantly for danger and respond with a second’s notice.  Eventually, with the help of an enormous sentient creature that lives in Earth’s waters, they wash up on the shores of Los Angeles Harbor.

«With your permission,» Ax says, «I would like to take DNA from each of you.  With the frolis maneuver, I can create a human shape that is a unique mixture of your attributes.»

“Then again, maybe you should just take from Tobias and Rachel.”  Marco smiles, but his eyes are colder than ever.  “The cops’ll give you a lot less hassle that way.”

Ax looks around at each of them.  «Human law enforcement will pay less attention to me if I have yellow hair, pale skin, and light-colored eyes?»

Marco laughs.  “Now you’re getting it.  Welcome to Earth, man—you’re gonna fit right in.”

“Just take DNA from all of us,” Tobias says, seeing Ax’s confusion and taking pity.  “We’re all a bunch of rejects anyway, so you might as well.”

• Ax becomes closer to this group of aliens over the next several missions than he could have ever imagined.  They open their home to him, even if that home is a nearly empty room in an otherwise abandoned building that contains a few sleeping bags and hotplates.  They teach him to defend himself as a weak little human, using switchblade and semiautomatic when he doesn’t have a tail blade or claws.

Cassie walks a mile and a half to the nearest yeerk-owned convenience store to shoplift him a dozen cinnamon buns the day he finally contacts his family with news of Elfangor’s death.

Tobias takes Jake and Rachel’s gentle-but-firm scolding about his carelessness with time limits (which has already resulted in half a dozen close calls), but he also asks Ax to teach him how to be better at keeping track of time.

Jordan and Sarah—who know about everything, to Ax’s surprise—don’t know what to make of him at first, but pretty soon they’re bringing home backpacks full of grass clippings so he’ll have something to eat, while he’s teaching them the basics of andalite dance.

• Every time they go out on a mission, they follow the same routine.  Jake solemnly hands Jordan a gun—the only time she’s allowed to handle one—and makes her go over the rules again.  She and Sarah are not to leave, no matter what happens.  She’s not to shoot anyone unless someone tries to attack her, or unless one of them comes back alone without explanation.  If anything happens short of a direct attack, or one of them coming back as a controller, she’s to run to the pay phone down the street and call 911 instead.  If three days pass and she doesn’t hear back from any of them at all, she and Sarah need to get on the next bus to San Luis Obispo and they need to go back to Aunt Ellen’s house.

• “We don’t kill unless we have to,” Rachel tells Ax, after he watches her tear a controller’s throat out.  “But if we have to, we kill.  Got it?”

He learns that that’s their blanket policy: the Animorphs (as they call themselves) don’t mess with other gangs in the area, but other gangs better not mess with them.  They don’t kill randomly, and they don’t escalate, but if they get hurt they will find the perpetrator and hurt him back.

They don’t like killing—well, he’s not sure about Rachel, but the others certainly don’t—but they are nonetheless very good at it.  If caught out of morph, Marco can shoot a hork-bajir-controller’s head off at 200 yards.  Cassie can take down a human-controller with a single jab of an inch-long penknife.

• Each time they make it home alive, Ax watches in fascination as Rachel tattoos two, three, sometimes as many as eight fresh lines onto her rows of tally marks, which by now reach two inches past her elbow and wrap around her forearm.  He’s learned by now that only the first three are pure black, and every one since then is black with a narrow white shadow.

“Black’s for enemies,” Rachel explains.  “White’s for the innocent hosts that get caught in the crossfire.”

Ax assumes at first that they must be a form of penance—each one involves jamming a needle into her soft skin dozens of times and injecting foreign substances underneath the surface to create an off-colored scar—but the longer he knows her, the more he suspects they’re a boast.

• It takes him longer to find out about the row of raised bumps along the back of Cassie’s calf, or what they mean.  “It’s cultural appropriation, probably,” she says with a self-deprecating smile, “but I got it from something they do in Ethiopia to signify growing up.”

She doesn’t make one for every kill, unlike Rachel; her system is more complex.  Ax knows that she does it after all three occasions where they blow up a Sharing location during a meeting, and once after they dump poison into a yeerk pool.  But she adds them at other times as well: when she finally demorphs in the long aftermath of her encounter with Aftran, when Aldrea nearly gets her killed.

“I could show you how to make them, and how to make them stay while you morph,” she offers to Ax.  “It’s not that hard, or it wasn’t after Rachel figured out how her ears stay pierced every time she morphs.”

Eventually Ax agrees to just one mark, encircling his tail where it meets the blade.  The symbol is simple—a curling series of lines whose ends intersect to form a circle—but its meaning is complex.  «The placement’s about mourning, but specifically about respect for the one who is mourned,» he explains awkwardly.  «They meet at the bottom to signify family, and the curl at the top is for a peer, but a peer from whom one has learned much…  It’s not the kind of thing that translates well into words.»

“What you said makes perfect sense to me,” Jake says, bright-eyed.  With Ax’s permission he imitates the pattern around his own left wrist.

• It’s Jake who keeps them all in line, Jake who insists they only shoplift from yeerk-owned businesses and give back the cars Marco steals once they’re done with the mission.  Jake won’t let Rachel kill the girl from their class who called her a white trash bitch, or the boy who wolf-whistled her on the way home, but he shepherds the rest of them outside as she shoots David precisely between the eyes.

Ax catches him sitting on the roof of the abandoned building they inhabit, one night after a raid on Joe Bob Fenestre’s house goes wrong in about eighteen different ways.  L.A. is far too light-polluted and smoggy to see any stars, but Ax knows that Jake is looking for them all the same because he’s done the same thing himself.

«I think he would have been proud of you,» Ax says softly.

“Your brother?” Jake asks, seeming to shake himself out of a daze.

«And yours.»

“You ever wonder if…”  Jake looks down at the concrete of the roof, thinking for a second.  “If every other kid our age trying to hold down a job, or a family, or, hell, an entire freaking gang… If they don’t know what they’re doing any better than we do?”

«Maybe they don’t,» Ax says.  «But most of them find a way to survive anyway, don’t they?»

“Thing is, I’m not sure they do.  Seems like every time I turn around there’s someone else I know getting shot, stabbed, hooked on heroin, thrown in prison…”  Jake smiles faintly, the expression tired.  “We were never supposed to live past twenty-five.  That was half the reason we got involved in this fight in the first place, you know that?  We all knew how to fight already when Elfangor found us, and we all figured that if we were going nowhere fast we might as well take down some aliens along the way.  I don’t think anything’s changed since then.”

«You’ve hurt them,» Ax points out.  «You’ve made Visser Three afraid.  We have.  Six kids, no real training, and we’ve killed more yeerks than most andalite warriors do in a lifetime.»

“But does it solve anything?” Jake asks.  “If the war ends tomorrow we’ll still be a bunch of dead-end trash with no prayer of ever getting a real job between us.  Tobias’ll still be stuck in a body he hates for the rest of his life, Marco probably won’t have his mom back, Rachel… I mean, god, you ever think about what Rachel would do if the war ended right now?”

Ax doesn’t have an answer.

• And as it turns out, he’ll never get one.  Because, turns out, Rachel doesn’t live to see the war’s end.

• Ax knows what to expect when the press gets ahold of their story, or at least he thinks he does.  There are nearly twelve hours of lag time between the yeerks’ official defeat and the first chance to land the Pool ship on Earth, during which time his teammates give him a crash course in all the nastiest sides of the American media.  Therefore, he’s saddened but not surprised the first (or the tenth, or the hundredth) time someone refers to them as thugs, as superpredators, as hoodlums or delinquents.  He understands in advance that when reporters call Eva an “alien” they’re not talking about extraterrestrials, that there’s a reason Cassie and Marco are “un-American” in a way Jake and Tobias are not, and that no one is going to bother to learn Tobias’s real name as long as they can use the one on his birth certificate instead.

However, as cynical as the Animorphs are, even they cannot anticipate just how awful people can become.  No one anticipated the calls for Marco to “go back to” a country he’s never visited.  They didn’t foresee that the baby pictures Tobias’s aunt sold to the press, and his subsequent misclassification, would mean that people suddenly had opinions about Rachel’s “lesbian influence” over future generations.

Just when Ax thinks he’s learned about every type of prejudice that could possibly exist, a heckler asks Jake a question (something about religion and money that Ax doesn’t understand) that causes Marco to punch the man so hard he breaks his own hand, and the lessons in all the ways humans suck start all over again.

• All five of them get a number of offers of adoption from concerned citizens, even Ax and Marco, which is weird because both of them have living parents and perfectly good homes already.

Most of the offers from concerned strangers are horribly condescending, the letters or introductory emails filled with phrases about how these self-righteous souls want to “get these children off the streets,” give Marco “a real home for a change,” help Tobias sort out his “confusion” about gender, and so on.  Marco takes a great deal of delight composing extremely rude responses on his and Ax’s behalf.

Jake’s the only one who shows interest right from the start, but only because he’s got more people than himself to think about: Sarah and Jordan are his responsibility now.  The way Jake approaches the whole process is somewhat off-putting to most prospective guardians, exactly the way it’s meant to be.  The caregivers who expect to meet a helpless war orphan or a traumatized child instead find themselves confronted by a self-assured young man who approaches the contract negotiation process (which is exactly what it is, at least once Jake’s done writing the paperwork and getting a child advocacy lawyer to approve it) with more demands than concessions.  Anyone who wants to have Jake absolutely must adopt Jordan and Sarah as well.  Jake does not consent for their images or any personal information to be shared with the media or the general public.  Any guardian who violates these terms can expect Jake to file immediately for emancipated minor status, and sue for sole custody of his cousins.  The first thirty-seven candidates Jake interviews all leave shouting, sometimes in tears.

Tobias turns down all offers—not exactly hard to do, when half the letters aren’t even addressed to him—and is on the verge of simply becoming homeless again when Ax passes along his parents’ wishes to meet their grandson.  There’s nothing left for Tobias on Earth anyway, so together he and Ax board the first shuttle they can find to take them to the andalite home world.

Cassie delays making a decision for as long as she can, but then one day she receives a letter from a local veterinarian.  The vet, whose name is Michelle, talks about how Cassie is an icon for all African American women, one with whom it would be an honor to share her home.  She and her husband Walter don’t have children, but they do have horses and birds and an entire clinic of wild animals, and if Cassie’s willing to be patient then they’re willing to do whatever it takes to learn how to care for a girl as well… Cassie accepts on the spot.

Candidate thirty-eight is a single woman in her fifties that Jake, despite himself, likes almost right away.  He relaxes a great deal when he finds out she was an involuntary controller during the last months of the war, which means that even if she doesn’t understand what they’ve been through she can come close enough.  The first real glimmer of hope comes when she approves of the contract (mentioning that his aunt would doubtless be proud of the good work he’s done with it) and even suggests a few clauses of her own.  They talk frankly for nearly three hours, during which time the woman agrees to set aside tuition for the highest-quality (and highest-security) private high schools and colleges for all three children.  Jake learns, too, that she had a son who like her was taken by the yeerks during the war: Rachel killed him on the deck of the Blade ship, and his body was never recovered.

• Ax returns to his homeworld, where he is made a war-prince almost before he sets hooves to grass.  Where he isn’t treated as a “controversial figure” and no one whispers about how he is a psychopath and an animal who should be put down.  Where celebrations in his honor are uncomplicated and never met by protests.  Where he and Tobias can be themselves and no one tries to simplify their complications into a story that makes for a good headline.

• Global War I, the history textbooks on Earth call it a hundred years later.  The parallel to World War I is deliberate: just like then, the writers say, there was no reason for it all.  There might have been bad guys, but there were no good ones.  There were no thanks for the people who ended it all, only thanks that it came to an end.  Some kids had something to do with hurting the Yeerk Empire, but their names have since been lost to time.

[kylerfey]

Meatspace encounter with a reader

The publisher of my recent gay erotica novellas recently made some weird samizdat-looking paper copies of most of the text of my “autofiction” novella Kyler on Jake at the Laundromat and somehow caused them to be handed out at a bar in the nearby gayborhood as what he thought of as a guerrilla promo campaign for the books among the local queer dudes. I was not present for this (I basically only go to work and then go home and have not clubbed in ages), and I don’t have a lot of confidence in the notion that there are a lot of readers of science-fantastical fag-erotica among the casual gay bar patron, but I thought it was a cool idea nonetheless. Or: it probably stiffened my dick a bit to know that my words of sex-confessional were being distributed randomly to live people at a place only about a mile away from my home. 

But last week, I encountered at the grocery a dude that I sort of know and with whom I had twice had sex last year (just me and him the first time, then in a three-way with my spouse Danny). Sometimes when I see someone that I know in a place like the grocery store I will perform an evasive maneuver if I don’t think I have been spotted yet, and I’ll change course and duck down an aisle that I had no original intention of entering. This is because I am usually at the store at the end of my day-jobbery day, just want to get home, just want to be left the fuck alone. And I am just pretty much hostile to random small-talk in public with people that I don’t really know that well. I attempted such an evasion when I recognized this guy--let’s call him Devin--but I did not react fast enough and he spotted me, followed me around for the remainder of my shopping (his was done: evidently he was only there to get a six-pack of some kind of craft beer which he already had in hand), stayed with me during check-out and out of the store all the way to my car. Once outside, he presented me with a thing that I have never in my life experienced: a living person right in front of me who has read one of my erotica stories and has remarks about it in person. He’d gotten one of those copies at the bar.

This both delighted me and embarrassed the living fuck out of me. But then it got a little awkward in a way that I could not have imagined: Devin seemed to believe that he was the titular “Jake” of the story. How he reached this false deduction I have no idea since there is basically nothing in common between my very brief two-time association with him and the storyline of Kyler on Jake which is, in fact, in large part a true story about a portion of a fuck-lationship that is still going on to this day. It’s why I called it an “autofiction”: much of it is literally true, though I may have conflated several events and details into fewer ones for effect, and there are some plainly fantastical chapters such as the Bieber-clone gang-fuck scene and the far-future scene when I reencounter Jake at an aetherport when I am like eighty years old and he is on his way to Mars on a mission as a breeder for the Cult Cthulhu. But none of it much resembles anything that I did with Devin other than that I ate his pussy and boned him a couple times.

So, on the fly, while totally embarrassed for both myself and Devin, I managed to articulate an explanation of the story’s background in which I let Devin know that he was not actually��“Jake,” but that his personality and fuck-aesthetic informed my illustration of the the Jake-construct for the book. This is not at all true but it felt like a harmless untruth that would ease the conversation, soon end it, and blessedly disengage us both from the misunderstanding and allow me to finish getting inside my car and going home. 

But then I felt like shit for lying to him so I messaged him to discuss further. Happy ending: he knew what I was trying to do with my bullshit explanation, understood it and then admitted that he had felt dumb for his own misunderstanding of my book. And then admitted that he’d never even read more than a few bits and pieces of it anyway. 

Hmm.

[gt-abby]

Mar and Jake- chapter 7

Since you guys want it so bad, here it is, chapter seven!

Don't forget to reblog and comment what you think of the story so far (no pressure tho!)

Tag list: @soakedmilkgt

Chapter 1 chapter six chapter seven (you're here) chapter eight

----- 2400~ words

Mar froze. Then she remembered who it must be and she let herself relax. Jake got up rather quickly and looked through the peep hole just to make sure no one who shouldn’t would see his tiny friend, then opened the door with a relieved smile.

“Hey guys! I’m sorry I’m a bit late, got caught up.” Emily entered the apartment before Jake could offer her in. She then knelt down in front of Mar with a big smile and rubbed her head with a finger. Mar didn’t know how to react to that so she let her ruffle her hair, but she was in a bit of a shock. She still wasn’t used to anyone but Jake knowing about her situation. She still felt a few reservations about this, but she tried to reassure herself that Emily must be trustworthy. Jake quickly approached the two women and knelt down in front of Mar as well. That made her a bit uncomfortable- being surrounded by giant people that were looking down at her.

“So, you have to tell me, how come you can… shrink?” Jake just cut to the chase. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Oh, I can grow, too.” Emily smirked and stood up, motioning for Jake to as well. Then, she slowly rose above him and touched the ceiling with her head. Jake and Mar were shell shocked, Mar more so than Jake. Now she was barely the size of Emily’s pinkie. This made her reservations about Emily grow, but as per usual she didn’t voice her concerns yet. She gulped, but Emily quickly shrunk back to regular human size.

Emily laughed, a rolling, contagious laugh. “Oh, this never gets old, your faces.” Jake returned a fake, nervous laughter. Mar didn’t.

“Anyway, to answer your question, I’ve always been able to do that. It took a few years to master it fully but now I’m a proper sizeshifter!” Emily exclaimed proudly. She then looked down at Mar and asked, “you can’t do that?” Mar shook her head. After meeting Emily for the first time, she tried commanding her body to grow back several times but nothing worked. Emily replied with a ponderous gaze.

“So your parents are… how did you call it .. ‘sizeshifers’ too?

“Oh no, they’re regular people. They know I can sizeshift, though. At first they thought it was a disease, but doctors have never found anything wrong with me, I was always perfectly healthy. But aside from me, no one that I know can do that, either.”

Mar wished Emily would shrink down to her size to keep her company and make her feel more comfortable, but she didn’t voice it. Emily didn’t seem to notice, and neither did Jake, that Mar was rather extremely uncomfortable at the moment.

Two giants were standing, towering above her, having a conversation between them as if she wasn’t there. If she were to speak up, would they even hear her? If she were to try to join in, would they even include her?

Those anxiety-driven thoughts plagued her mind as she spiraled into this deeply depressing mentality that she’s grown to feel weirdly comfortable with. She watched as the two titans sat down on the sofa and continued their conversation as if forgetting about her completely. She was invisible, non-existent perhaps.

“-Right, Mar?” she was pulled away from her thoughts by her name being called.

“Um, sorry what?” her voice broke, but it was so small she really hoped they didn’t hear it.

“Tell her what happened to you.”

“Oh, umm…” She hesitated, feeling embarrassed. But she sucked it up and retold the story again. No one interrupted her. She added her dream to it too, as to explain why it happened, but none of them actually understood exactly why. She ended up rambling for a few minutes, while Emily and Jake looked at each other as they listened. When Mar finally finished, she tried apologizing for talking so much, but the two reassured her that it was all okay.

“I’ve actually had a few dreams like what you’re describing, but I can barely remember them. I remember something, someone, who knew me, but I’ve never met before, appear in my dreams and to talk to me, but I can never remember what they were saying. I… think they were made out of a blue flame or something? I’m not 100% sure.” Emily became uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. Mar’s heart skipped a beat when Emily said she had those dreams too, but she was meekly disappointed to hear that she remembered none of it. How come she remembers but Emily doesn’t? Now she has more questions than answers. “Say, what’s it like being small all the time?” Emily asked Mar tactlessly, changing the subject. She then proceeded to jump onto the coffee table, shaking mar and almost making her fall in the process, while also shrinking back to her size and sitting, crosslegged, next to her. Emily saw the grim expression on Mar’s face and realized. “You don’t like it, huh, well I think it’s pretty cool, you get to be “babied” around, getting carried everywhere you want to go, and all the food I so huge you can eat all your favorites for forever!” She laughed, making Mar chuckle.

“Well, that’s one way of looking at it. But… it was so scary at first, I… I never wanted this to happen, all I’ve built up to in my life is now either useless or gone. My parents even didn’t take it well, so now I’m all on my own.” Mar felt bad about ruining the mood, but she felt like she had to let this feeling out.

“That’s not true, Mar, you have me,” Jake piped up. She looked up at him with a smile. He’s right. He’s been there for her at every turn. Even if she does’t fully feel comfortable leaning on him like that, but she certainly knows she can trust him.

“And me,” Emily exclaimed. “I know we don’t know each other all that well but I’m here for you, no matter what.” She rested her hand on Mar’s shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys,” Mar wiped away a tear. “I really needed that.” She let out a happy laugh of relief.

—

After a few more hours of the three of them hanging out, it was finally time for Emily to go home. Mar felt. Ted bit sad to see her go, her energy was contagious, but they all knew all fun times must come to an end. After Emily had left, Jake sighed heavily and held out his hand to Mar, indicating to her that he wanted her to come with him. He looked tired, and Mar guessed he wanted to go to sleep.

“So… what are we doing tomorrow?” She asked him while crawling onto his palm. “Am I coming with you or staying home?”

“I’ll… let you chose this time. I know I wasn’t the nicest towards you this morning, I wanna make up for that.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Umm I guess it’s best if I stay home, since we can risk someone else seeing me and anything bad can happen outside. I can’t move anywhere on my own right now so… I’d feel safest here.”

“Alright. Then Ill make sure to get you everything you need within reach before I leave. I’ll do my best to come back as soon as possible, but I do have work after class so I’ll still be back late.” Jake placed her on his nightstand carefully with a soft smile. Mar tucked herself in the sock he gave her as he went over to the bathroom to get ready. She had a bad feeling for some reason, but she couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from or why. She drifted into sleep before she could hear the bathroom door open back up and Jake return to his room.

“You’re here again at last.” That familiar voice… it struck fear in Mar’s heart as it did before. She was dreaming again.

“What do you want now?” Mar asked the deity, already impatient.

“We have infinity to spend together now, must you be so hostile?” They replied mockingly. Mar scoffed. She had no intention of spending her lifetime connected to this condescending “god”. When she finds a “cure” for all of this, she’ll finally come back to her normal life. “Anyway, how have you been faring the past few days? Have your powers come to you?”

“No.”

“I see.”

Silence befell them in the void. The fire knew Mar wasn’t interested in a conversation, and any attempt at one would be shot down immediately. Mar herself didn’t know what the deity was capable of, but there wasn’t much they could do in the dreamscape. Her physical body wasn’t here so nothing bad could happen to her. So she turned away from the deity and sat on the ground, staring at the void until her eyes began creating shapes in her vision.

“Turn around.” Mar heard a voice from behind her, so cold it made her shiver. But she didn’t reply. Suddenly she felt heat coming from behind her and turning around she saw the fire being grow, bigger and bigger, until they were Jake’s size- hundreds of times her own. Mar was looking up at them, open mouthed, beginning to shake in fear. She felt as if she was first shrunk all over again- the size difference terrified her, especially when it was someone made entirely of flames. Regardless of whether she wasn’t going to be physically harmed, this was a petrifying sight.

Then, her worst fear happened. The deity reached down towards her with their hand, yet Mar was frozen in place. She couldn’t run, or hide, or do anything but stare in disbelief as the fiery palm got closer and bigger. She cowered, looking away, when she felt heat surround her and the giant hand close around her, so tight she felt her breath be taken away.

“No please”, she cried out, as she felt herself be raised from the ground so high up if she fell she could easily die.

“So you humans are just as easily scared as you were back when I last returned, I see.” Mar looked up to see the indifference in the deity’s voice also appear on their huge face. They looked disappointed, too. “I find that extremely pathetic. How did my host come to be this way..? You all have lived far too comfortably in the last millennia. Must I remind you of what I’m capable of? Your life is, quite literally, in my hands. So remember that when ever you plan on disrespecting me, young one.” Mar gulped. This was truly a nightmare. She felt her chest be crushed in the titan’s grip before being completely let go, and, as she fell screaming, she was woken up to Jake’s gigantic face peer upon her and his hand shaking her awake.

“Thank god, Mar, you scared the hell out of me.” He said, wiping away sweat from his brow. “You were screaming, did you know that?” yes, she could feel her throat was sore. “I-I’m sorry” she was breathing heavily, cold sweat pearls on her forehead.

“Look at me,” he pleaded with her, and when she did what he asked, his heart sank. Her eyes were in total shock, darting to everywhere on his face, wide and with tiny pupils. What could she have dreamt about that was so petrifying? “Are you okay? Breathe.”

She took a deep breath and let it all out, looking away from him. “Y-yeah… I’m not… dead so... I guess.”

“Now… please tell me, how the hell are you doing that?” he gestured to her body, and it took her a while to realize there was nothing underneath her. She let out a yelp thinking she was still falling, but she was actually hovering in place, the sock she was sleeping in already slipped off.

“What…?” she stood up in the air and looked around her. Nope, there was nothing underneath her that was holding her in place.

“Of course you wouldn’t know.” Jake sighed. “there’s something new about you every day, huh?”

“Why didn’t this happen like two days ago?!” Mar exclaimed in frustration. “I wouldn’t have broken my freaking leg!” She cried out, her emotions overwhelming her- first, the fire deity scaring her to oblivion, now this.

“Wow, wow, Mar, calm down, it’s okay, these things… happen.” Jake tried to calm her down, unsuccessfully. He resorted to his secret technique. He grabbed her as softly as he could and pressed her against his chest. Her heart was beating so fast he could even feel it. It was faint, but it was there. Slowly but surely, it began to deescalate and she took a deep breath and tapped the inside of the ball he created around her and he let her go. He uncapped his hands but she stayed laying there on one of them, looking up at her giant friend. She wiped away her tears and looked away. Jake took his other finger and used it to position her head so she would look at him, and he raised her to eye level. His eyes looked very concerned and not convinced that she was alright. The way he was looking at her made her eyes water again, so she sat up and looked down at the ground- well, Jake’s palm. He felt her tears falling down on it and his heart dropped some more.

“What… was the dream about this time?” He asked as softly as he could.

“T-they’re back…” Mar replied, still looking away from him. “I tried to ignore them so… they got mad-“ she wiped away the tears- “and became giant, like you, and held me tight. They threatened me and dropped me and then I woke up.”

“My god…” Jake gasped, “No wonder you were panicking.”

“Yeah…”

“W-well, you’re okay now, and I’m here for you- u-unless you need me to leave.” He added, scared he was contributing to her panic, since he was also a giant compared to her.

“No, no, please stay…” She grabbed his thumb and hugged it, finally looking up at him. Jake sighed in relief and his heart skipped a beat- he could not help how cute she looked to him as she hugged his thumb with her entire body. Her size could never stop looking so adorable to him, but he pushed those thoughts away- he didn’t want to dehumanize her like he did the day before.

“Okay.” He pressed her against his heart in an attempt at a hug and she reciprocated and spread her arms and hugged him back as much as she could.

“Thank you.” She whispered

[thelastswallow]

What Tears Us Apart, Ties Us Together

Chapter 9

John - Legwork

In which there is home made spaghetti - Alan Tracy learns the origin of a nickname - Lieutenant Cooper Waverly pines after an imaginary woman - Virgil Tracy has an assignation with a real one - a young man crosses the border into Turkey and it is a long way to Illinois

There’s something about deserts that has always appealed to John.

Something about the horizon. The towers of empty space and the flat, lunar surface. It makes him feel calm and clean.

Like a moth to a bug zapper, Grandma used to say, as she attacked him with the tube of sunscreen when he was a kid, or painted the tip of his nose with aloe Vera when he came home pink and peeling. He’s not built for the desert. Only Gordon’s sallow skinned and quick to tan, buy of the five of them John burns the quickest, roasts the colour of poached salmon in the time it takes to boil an egg; some unfortunate throwback to the Scotch-Irish roots of the Tracy clan. But Man wasn’t made for space either, yet his Dad stood on the face of Mars. So maybe it’s natural that John wants to explore the places he doesn’t belong.

When he was 11, the six of them had spent one February Fourth in a specially built capsule in the Mojave Desert that mimicked the lunar simulation modules the SETI Institute had used in the early 2000s, when NASA had been prepping to go back to the moon. John doesn’t remember a time when he’d been happier than he was staring out the porthole of that cramped little module, imagining himself among the company of the great men and women who had walked on the moon.  

Sometimes, when he needs to gather himself, John imagines himself curled up in the porthole window, watching the lunar landscape of the Mojave.

Yet But when he imagines the desert, this isn’t what he pictures. It looks all wrong as it hurtles past the window, in blocks of olive and grey under a forget-me-not sky. This desert doesn’t make him feel calm, just sweaty and anxious and itchy all at once. It looks yellow and scrubby and full of rattlesnakes; scar tissue on the landscape. It hurtles past and he wishes he were somewhere else.

A good first test.

There’s a chime above his head that signals the magnet train is slowing down and he breaks his fixed gaze on the winding landscape. His tablet has gone unattended for long enough that it’s gone dark. He’s too easily distracted all of a sudden.

He gathers his bag and tablet and rises. A few people make note of his movement, but nobody else in the carriage makes a move to disembark.

The magtrain glides to a halt and there’s a whoosh of hot, dry air as the door unseals itself. He steps out onto the raised platform. Along the train’s length passengers, most in uniform, diffuse in and out of the train. No one pays him any attention as they hurry towards the stairs and the exit, swiping their passes through the scanner. He follows.

There are convoy trucks waiting to pick up officers in the parking lot, and a dusty town taxi idling out in front of the red brick building, looking for business. He ignores it and makes the short walk into town.

By the time he gets there, there are dark patches of sweat beneath his armpits.  He wipes his brow and stops at a dispenser to by a soda.

Avalon is a small, neat little place that mainly serves to support Rainshadow Airbase. There’s a county hospital and a couple of mom and pop stores, though most of the business has drained out of the centre of town. School kids wander around in packs. An elderly woman walking a tiny poodle smiles at him as he sips his pop. He finds McGruck’s, a sports’ bar, in a big lot off the main street.

The bartender is quick to ID him, but only shows real interest in his birthdate and not the person attached and after he’s been satisfied, leaves him nursing his beer and his tablet at the bar. Off duty airmen come in in dribs and drabs, and he earns a couple of curious looks, but nobody bothers him.

A little before seven there’s a tap on his shoulder, “Tracy?”

A rangy man in captain’s stripes has come up behind him. There’s a stir from the peanut gallery. This is not, John guesses, habitually a bar where officers come to drink. “John Tracy, right? I’m Skip Guerra.”

They’ve met before, though Skip probably doesn’t remember and John doesn’t remind him. Skip and Scott had been at school together and though Skip had been some years older, they had made friends running varsity track together. Scott had dragged John round to the dressing room to meet Skip the night he led the school football team to state. He had been gracious as he accepted John’s congratulations, though obviously wired to the moon and unlikely to remember. Skip had left for the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs the same year Scott had gone off to Yale. Now they serve in the same unit.

Skip is big in every dimension, has inches even on Scott. A small moustache makes him look older than his 26 years, and he is, John can tell, despite his bluff handshake, nervous.

“Thanks for coming.”

A tight nod. “I’ve got a car outside.”

They drive out of town, talking around the subject in question. Skip talks about the weather, their old school, Williams’ Prep and the differences between the GDF and the space programme. They reach Skip’s house, which is off base, where Skip’s wife Lisa and home-cooked spaghetti are waiting to ambush them.

John’s impatient to get on with the task at hand, but it’s rude to say no, particularly when he’s asking such a big favour, so he accepts as graciously as he can manage.

Skp and Lisa have got an 18-month-old son, Jake, and from the size of Lisa’s belly, another one on the way. Jake is fascinated by John’s red hair, and John – for whom babies have always been a separate country he is not planning on visiting – puts up with his interest. Lisa asks interested if routine questions about WWSA and Skip tells anecdotes about air force life. If it’s all designed to make John feel guilty, he thinks, as he passes around the basket of garlic bread, it’s working.

But when dinner is over and the plates are cleared Skip rises. “Time for John to be going,” he says. “I’ll be back later.” He kisses Lisa’s cheek.

As John closes the car door he says, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Sure, I do.” Skip starts the engine and puts the car into gear.

They drive. Within minutes they’re approaching Rainshadow Base and John feels his throat constrict.

Dad is Dad so of course he heard through channels first.

Scott is AWOL.

Or, to be precise, he is only guilty of Failure to Repair; but at 0900 hours yesterday Lieutenant Scott Tracy did not report to base after leave, and by 1700 hours he still has not reported to his commanding officer.

He’s not the only officer ever to fail to report in after leave. Maybe he missed his flight. Maybe he got the dates wrong. Maybe his mates, in high spirits, duct taped him to a pole and have forgotten where they left him. This sort of thing happens all the time.

Just not to Scott.

From the expression on Skip’s face he thinks so too.

Dad had called just as John was out for his morning run, having spent most of the night bailing Gordon out of a premature court marshalling at the WASP gala. “I’m telling you this,” Dad had said once he had broken the news, “Only because there’s a reasonable chance where you’re working that you might hear through other channels.”

John had never thought of himself as someone to be gossiped about or at. Maybe it was different with Scott. There was enough cross-over between the WWSA and the GDF that there was a possibility he would hear from some other source.

“You haven’t told the others?” he had asked.

“I don’t think there will be a need to.”

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

“The morning he left the island he called me a selfish, conceited son of a bitch. So at least we know he wasn’t acting out of character.” The attempt at a joke had fallen flat.

“He’s been missing a week?” He had been bundled up against the arctic cold. Suddenly his brain had felt as numb and clumsy as his hands.

“Absent. Not missing. Your brother’s always been good at letting me know he’s upset. Torching his career is certainly a potent signal fire.”

“Dad…”

“Kyrano’s already on his trail. And we’ll find him. I want you to stay where you are. Attend to your studies. If he contacts you, of course, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll update you periodically.”

“Dad, can I…”

“This is a good first test for you.”

A good first test. A test that he’s failing.

John Tracy is hacker like no other. John Tracy writes code the way Paul McCartney wrote pop hits. John Tracy has never met a digital door he did not want to open.

John Tracy cannot find his stupid, ignorant luddite of an older brother.

It should have been easy. Scott’s financial records, his flight history, his passage in and out of the security net that encircles the globe, it should have led John to him like a luminous contrail.

But Scott had landed in Algeria, withdrawn 2,000 dollars’ cash at the airport foreign exchange, disappeared into the city and…

Nothing.

No Scott. No trail. Nothing but white noise. Not even a starting point.

John spent half his time in MIT thinking and writing about search heuristics; for search and rescue; for stars; for prime numbers. Even the most basic search needs a node to start from.

And so now, here, with Skip, smiling politely in the passenger seat as they were waved through gate at Rainshadow Airbase, looking for somewhere to begin.

Scott had been the one to ruin their trip to the Mojave, hadn’t he? For three days all six of them had lived in close quarters, in the lunar simulation module, mimicking the lives of the first settlers on the moon, and how Dad had lived with Captains Taylor and Tsang when they had been building Shadow Alpha One. But on the morning of the fourth day, Scott had stumbled out of bed, and out the airlock, to relieve himself against the side of the capsule, decompressing the pod and killing his father and four brothers in the process.

Scott had been apologetic but unconcerned. Said it was an accident and that he had forgotten where they were. He had been nearly 14, unhappy about Dad’s decision to leapfrog him two years ahead into ninth grade, and ready for a little kickback. John, on the other hand, had been distraught, not ready for the adventure to end. He had begged Dad that they be allowed a do over, but Dad had said no. There were no second chances in space.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that now.

Scott lives in unaccompanied officers’ quarters. Skip pulls up to the squat block of condos and parks. “This is it.”

“Thank you, Skip.”

Skip shrugs, nods. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

Not really. Some clue or hint. Some trace of where Scott’s going or where he might be going, or what he might be thinking. An impression. A scent. “I’ll know it when I see it,” he says.

“John, I hope you find what you’re looking for, but you should know, I don’t think you’re going to find your brother in there.”

What a strange thing to say.

“You and Scott fly together, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re friends?” He’s got a sudden overwhelming feeling that this was a bad idea.

But Skip gives him a cryptic smile. “I’m not doing this because you asked politely. He does talk about you.”

“He does?”

“And I get the distinct impression that if anyone can find that squirrelly motherfucker and get him back where he belongs then it’s you. Yeah, we’re friends, John.”

A good first test.

“Okay.”

They get out of the car. Skip’s swipe key gets them into the building and up the stairs to Scott’s condo.

The first thing he notices is how clean it is. It’s at odds with the Scott he knows, who leaves dirty dishes in the sink and a breadcrumb trail of his clothes from the bathroom to his bed every night when getting undressed. Any habit can be learned, he supposes and somewhere along the way, someone has beaten neatness into Scott.

The kitchen-living room is sparse, impersonal. He rifles through the kitchen, but the cupboards are bare of anything more exciting than protein powder and cereal. The fridge holds nothing but ketchup and mustard.

He tries the bedroom. Skip follows.

In here too is neat and orderly, the corners of the bed are squared off. There’s a Light Type interface built into the desk that would have connected to Scott’s personal drive. When Skip isn’t looking, John takes a HUB from his pocket and sets it down, activating pre-set commands to clone everything that the interface has processed over the last two months.

He doesn’t linger by the desk and crosses to the other side of the room. The closet contains only neatly pressed uniforms, a couple of casual shirts in blue and cream, and rows of folded white t-shirts. There’s a small safe in the bottom of the closet, but it hangs open and any valuables have been cleared out.

There’s a digital picture frame on the windowsill that clicks to life when it detects motion, but the photos it cycles through are curiously blank of personality. A group picture of Scott’s squadron, a formal photograph of him smiling starkly at the camera at the receipt of his bronze star and a family portrait, the same one that goes out to the press when they’re looking to write about “Billionaire industrialist Jeff Tracy and his five fine boys”.

John feels a creep up his spine, like razor scraping bone. None of this feels genuine. It’s like he’s walked into an exhibition showcasing the life of one, ‘Lieutenant Scott Tracy’ rather into a place where anyone actually lives.

Angry again suddenly, he yanks open the drawer of the nightstand.

Inside the drawer are a flotsam of personal effects; a string of condoms; a blue inhaler, 11 months out of date, because Scott always forgets to resupply his prescription unless he’s having one of his infrequent asthma attacks; a Rubik’s cube, half-solved and then forgotten; a slim book.

He takes the book out of the drawer, turns it over, recognising it. It’s a copy of Slaughterhouse Five. The red and yellow dust jacket and leaves are real precious paper and the publisher’s seal says the volume was published in 1972. John had sourced it himself, from a small antique book dealer in San Francisco. It had been a rather pointed Christmas gift to Dad and he remembers noting now, how it hadn’t been on Dad’s book shelf the last time he was in his office.

It looks well-thumbed. There are greasy finger marks along its spine and its pages are dog-eared, like it’s been read and read again. He doesn’t remember it ever being a favourite of Scott’s

He’s about to open his mouth to ask Skip if he knows anything about it when Skip puts a finger to his lips. Outside there comes the murmur of soft voices and the bleepclick of the latch unhooking.

John puts the book back and slides the drawer closed.  Skip quickly crosses the room and switches off the light. He motions for both of them to step into the bathroom. There are footsteps in the outer room, the jangle of keys and then nothing.

Through the crack in bathroom the door John peers out into the bedroom. The light in the outer room comes on, throwing a slim rectangle of white light against the bedroom wall.

He glances at his watch. It’s 9:45. There’s no reason for anyone else to be here.

“Are they looking for us?”

Skip gives the slightest shake of his head.

If I’m caught, he thinks, I’ll just step out. No one needs to know Skip was here. His pulse is hammering in his ears.

A rhomboid of white light slides across the floor as the door swings open. Whoever is outside, they are coming in.

“This is it. Be quick, okay?” says a woman’s voice in a whisper. “I’m deep in the shit if they find you here.”

“Okay.”

John’s still trying to figure out what’s going on when Skip surges forward. “Goddamn it to hell, Stubbs, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The electric light comes on and the light box vanishes from the floor. He hears the woman falter at the sudden appearance of Skip. “Captain!”

“Airman, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Sneaking civilians onto the base? Breaking and entering. Do you know how many charges you’re risking?”

“Please, it wasn’t her fault. I asked her to,” says a voice, a familiar voice, a very familiar voice.

“Virgil?”

“John?”

He steps out of the shelter of the bathroom and sees Virgil standing in the doorway. His younger brother practically looms over the young Airwoman with dark hair standing in front of him. Skip looms over them both, but flinches when John sticks his head around the door.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil gapes at him.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

“I…uh…”

“Well, isn’t this a clusterfuck?” says Skip, placing his hands on his hips. “Stubbs, I oughta write you up.”

The airwoman fidgets. She’s tiny, with black hair looped in a tight braid and anxious sloe black eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Cap. Really I am. But they’ve been talking shit about… There’s been inappropriate talk about Lieutenant Tracy in the mess, Captain and why he hasn’t reported to duty. And he,” She taps Virgil on the shoulder “Was so determined to find him. I wanted to help him, you know?” She gives John the side eye and the flash of a smile. “I guess you do know. Which one do you got?”

“The astronaut. Who’s that?” Skip glares at Virgil. “The Olympian?”

“The artist. Except he says he’s a pilot now.”

He says he’s a what?

But Skip just rolls his eyes. “Go figure.”

“We have names, you know,” says Virgil, peevishly. “We’re not a collectable set of breakfast cereal toys.”

“Of course not, kid,” says Skip, placating but patronising. “What’s your youngest brother again? The congressman?”

“He’s in middle school!” both John and Virgil snap, simultaneously.

Joh scowls and Virgil digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“What are you doing here, Virgil?” John asks.

“Same as you. Looking for Scott.”

“You’re supposed to be at school.”

“Yeah, well. You’ve got better places to be too, right?” Virgil raises his chin so he’s looking at John and not the floor. There’s a stubborn jut to it, at once familiar and out of place on Virgil. Something seems different about him and for a moment John can’t place just what it is. Then he realises. Virgil’s always run to stocky, ungenerously even to chubby. At thirteen it had made him self-conscious enough to start to camouflage his weight with layers of shirts and t-shirts. Somewhere in the last week he’s shed those extraneous layers. In just a pair of faded jeans and a v-neck grey t-shirt it’s immediately clear what should have been obvious last week. The puppy fat is gone. Virgil’s tanned and fit and for the first time in his life, probably in better shape than John.

He’s still got that stupid moustache though.

“Hey, Stubbs,” Skip says, a little louder than is necessary. “Come out here for a sec, I got something real important to show you in the kitchen.”

“Yes, Captain.” Stubbs winks at Virgil and they both step out of the room, pull the door shut behind her.

John eases himself away from the bathroom door and Virgil pushes off from the wall. They shuffle a little closer to each other.

“I didn’t think you knew he was missing.” John says. “Did Dad tell you?”

“Sort of.” Virgil’s fingers brush the tucked in corner of the bed. “I was with him when he got the news.”

“He came to see you in Chicago?”

“Something like that,” Virgil murmurs. “I’m surprised he told you.”

“There’s a lot of air force personnel with the space agency. I suppose he was afraid the news would get to me anyway.”

“And did it?”

“No. Why would it?”

“I dunno. It seems like Stubbs was saying there’s a lot of talk about him.”

“Maybe I just don’t’ pay attention to that sort of stuff.”

Virgil looks around. “Does he really live here?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No.”

Virgil jostles past him, as if he doesn’t trust John to look, or as if maybe Scott’s hiding in the bathroom too.  He looks inside, brushes the shower curtain back, and then pulls the wardrobe door open. His fingers grope right to the back of the empty safe.

John lets him at it, goes to retrieve his hard-drive where a one-two-three blink tells him it has finished its work. He pockets it and picks up the digital photo-frame. It cycles to the family portrait, the five of them smiling blandly on the balcony of the New York penthouse. Teeth immaculately white, hair immaculately brushed, each of them arranged so that John’s red hair won’t clash with Alan’s blonde and Scott’s height wouldn’t look comical among his smaller brothers. Dad’s wearing a black bomber jacket, like he’s just leapt off the gantry of Artemis 5. Heroic astronaut and family man. They look perfect.

The reality was that they had been miserable. None of them had wanted to give the first day of school holidays over to the dreary photoshoot. Virgil had crashed through arpeggios on the baby grand piano between set ups and Alan, who had been only seven, had thrown a DEFCON One tantrum because he was jet-lagged and out of sync with the time zone and it was way past his bedtime. Every time John found a quiet place to read he was disturbed by a stylist trying to stick yet more safety pins into his hated grey and green sweater vest.

Scott had turned up at quarter to six, fresh from his first year at college and with Miss Rhode Island in tow. He’d showered, thrown on the white shirt and slate grey trousers selected for him, thoroughly charmed the stylists and posed for the photos without ever alerting anyone from the press that he and Dad weren’t even speaking to each other.

That had been the same article in which Dad had said, “the future of space exploration is the property of the capitalist” John remembers, with a wince.

He wonders what it is about that photo that makes Scott want to keep it around, want to display it here people can see it. Why he wants this reminder of their wax figure selves, so artificial that if you tapped them hard enough they might shatter. John can never believe just how dreamy and dim he himself looks in those photos, or how Gordon looks butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth angelic.

And the louche Scott in the picture looks nothing like the immaculate model soldier who fades up as the balcony photo fades out. The buttons on his uniform and the medal pinned to his chest sparkle. He gleams.

Virgil is peering over his shoulder now, his brows knotted together. “Hey, Scott,” he says to the photograph and then to John, “There’s nothing here,” Virgil says.

“No.”

“I thought there’d be something.” He sounds disappointed.

“What are you doing here, Virgil? Were you expecting to find him hiding out in the bathtub?” It comes out more harshly than he mean.

But Virgil just seems amused. “You’re going to give me grief about being here? What are you doing here? Guilty conscience?”

“Of course not. Why would I have a guilty conscience?”

Virgil gives him a look. “Gee, I don’t know, Johnny. Maybe something to do with the shouting match you had just outside my door last week.”

“You heard that.”

“Grandpa Grant heard that.” Virgil pulls one of Scott’s hoodies over his head and puts his hands into the pockets. “And I’m here because I thought this would be as good a place as any to start. Figure out where he’s been, so I know where he’s going. Talk to his friends. I’m going to find Scott,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “Drag him home kicking and screaming if I have to. You can help. Since you’re here.”

“Gosh. Thanks.” But suddenly he does feel guilty. Not about Scott, but for Virgil. Poor Virgil. Of course, he wants to help. Of course, he wants to be seen to be doing something useful for once. It seems petty to point out if Kyrano can’t find Scott, if not a single digital rock John’s turned over has offered up one lead there’s precious little Virgil’s going to be able to do in the situation.

“It’s not like he just disappeared. People don’t just van – ” Virgil breaks off, colours suddenly. “I didn’t mean. Sorry, John.”

“What? Oh. That.”

When he was nine years old John had been kidnapped. He had been walking home from school one day when Scott had stayed late for basketball practice. An arm had gone around his waist and another over his nose and he had been picked up and tossed into the back of a van. One of his kidnappers had brandished a knife at him in the van, told him that good little boys were well treated but bad little boys had their fingers cut off one by one.

After that they had been civil to him, fed him cold spaghetti hoops and given him a gamegle to play with.

He wishes he could say he had been brave or plucky or clever, that he had outwitted his captors and escaped on his own, but the reality is that he had spent a long weekend playing Tetris Masters in a cramped duplex in downtown Portland. At the end of the third day there had been terrifying sounds outside and he had buried his head beneath his blanket. But when the door creaked open it had been Kyrano who had been outside, ready to scoop him up and take him home.

When he looks back on it now it seems like something that happened to someone else.  The worst part had been when, firmly held in Dad’s arms, he had had to wade through the sea of flashing cameras and shouting reporters from the steps of the hospital to the car.

In the aftermath, Dad had insisted on subcutaneous GPS transmitters for each of them. Before leaving Algiers, Scott had cut his out and flushed it. John’s seen the records It had transmitted for three days from the bottom of a reservoir outside Algeria before blinking out.

John feels a sudden creep along his spine. Had it been flushed? Had Dad sent divers to retrieve it? Had they checked the rest of Scott wasn’t down there with it? And why hadn’t that occurred to John before now? He’d just assumed that Scott had taken himself off to sulk, to lick his wounds in private, to throw his disapproval in Dad’s face by torpedoing his career. Before now he’d never considered other possibilities. He had thought Scott understandable, quantifiable, a problem he had already solved.

But who is this Scott who can make himself vanish without leaving a digital trace? And who is this person living a carefully studied half-life in place of his dreams?

John’s legs give out from under him and he sits down on the bed.

“John.” Virgil’s hand grips his shoulder. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I’m fine.”

A good first test.

But Dad hadn’t meant that finding Scott was his first test. He had meant:

When you’re 200,000 miles above the Earth’s surface, dropping everything and coming home is not going to be an option available to you.

He had meant: You’re going to have to learn what it costs to be able to do nothing when people you care about are in trouble.

He had meant: I need someone cool, collected, dispassionate. Someone who can be rational even when people they care about are in danger; especially when people they care about are in danger.

So, John’s already failed this test, because he’s here, chasing his tail in the desert, imagining worst case scenarios and achieving nothing as the possibility of finding Scott gets more and more remote.

Fuck you, Scott.

Because even in his absence Scott’s deconstructing him, making him doubt himself, pointing out he’s not the man he thought he was.

“Come on, John.” Virgil takes him by the arm. “We should go. He’s not here, okay.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He’s quiet as Virgil says goodbye to Stubbs and as Skip drives them back off the base. They pull in in the parking lot of a 7eleven. Beneath a no loitering sign a beat-up jalopy stands parked. “This is me,” says Virgil.

The car looks like it runs on rust and prayer. Skip raises an eyebrow as he pulls in. “Is this what the Tracy boys are driving nowadays?”

Virgil scratches his head, embarrassed. “It belongs to Dave, my neighbour. He loaned it to me in exchange for a painting and my bike. I don’t think he ever thought I could get it to run.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Wait a second.” John allows this to sink in for a moment. “Your neighbour? In Chicago?! You didn’t drive clean across the country in that?”

Virgil nods, shrugs. “Had to. Dad grounded me.”

“Virgil, you’re nearly nineteen. He can’t ground you.”

Virgil shrugs. “Froze my assets then. Revoked my clearance to my bank accounts, even the ones he wasn’t supposed to know about.” John doesn’t miss the way Skip’s eyebrows go up. “Gave me sixty dollars a day to live on and five days to clear out my apartment and hand my notice in at my job.”

“Why?”

Virgil shrugs, sanguine. “Maybe he was afraid I’d take off to New Mexico to look for Scott.” He opens the door of Skip’s car to let himself out. “Thank you very much, Captain Guerra.”

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. And nice moustache.”

John jumps out of the car after him. “You’re not going to drive back in that death trap?”

“Sure. Wanna ride? Where you going?”

“I’ve got a 7am flight,” he says stiffly. To LAX with no connecting flight. It had seemed a good international hub to start from. He had figured by then he would know where he was going. “I’m booked into an airport hotel in Albuquerque.”

“Yeah. That’s on my way. I can take you.” He reads John’s expression. “Or I can drop you back to town and you can get the train.”

“Come back with me.” John rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay for your flight.”

“I don’t need your money, John.”

“No, you need a miracle to keep that thing running.”

“Anyway, I promised Dave I’d have the car back.”

Dave, John decides at once, is clearly a frustrated serial killer.

“Virgil, I… I’m pulling rank. I can’t let you drive that thing across the country.”

This is the part where Virgil folds. It’s where he always folds. If it were Gordon or Alan it might be different, but Virgil can be relied upon to be sensible and obedient. Except this Virgil is grinning a most un-Virgil like grin, and folding his arms on the roof of the car. “Then I guess you have until Albuquerque to convince me not to.”

*

There was a time, when gasoline was cheaper and more readily available, that freeways were the arteries of America, but that was before economies of scale in fusion tech made public transport the faster, cheaper option. Nowadays, automobiles are mainly used for short distances. Driving is a dying art. The freeways are half-empty and poorly maintained, populated mainly by the huge 26 and 48-wheeler transport wagons, itinerant nu-gypsies and the occasional motoring hobbyist.

They speed along in silence that stops just short of companionable. The night is squid ink black and full of stars. The head beams of the transport wagons dazzle him as they harrumph out of the darkness and rattle past. There’s music playing softly over the speakers. It’s neither unpleasant nor identifiable. Virgil’s always been an early adopter when it comes to new music.

The jalopy doesn’t even have an autodrive function so Virgil has to steer, but they’re making good time. John can’t shake the sensation that he should be saying something, but he’s just not sure as to what it is. Every time he tries it gets turned into a clearing of his throat or a groan.

But a sign tells him that Albuqueque is only a hundred miles away so he clears his throat once more and asks, “Did you know about any of this? Did he confide in you?”

Virgil keeps his eyes on the road as he says, “Johnny, Scott doesn’t really talk to me at all, except to say, ‘Uh, how’s the art thing going, Virg?’ like I’m seven.”

“Oh… uh, how is the art thing going?”

“I quit.” Virgil’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m going to Stanford in the fall, on Dad’s dime. Engineering.”

“Oh.”

He wants to ask more but something in Virgil’s manner strongly discourages it and a minute later he pulls into one of the roadside gas stations and stops. “I’m starving. Getcha anything?”

John shrugs. “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

“I’ll get two of everything then.”

A second later John remembers the danger. “No granola bars, Virgil.” He calls at his brother’s retreating back. “And I don’t want a kale smoothie!” John’s got an astronaut’s general outlook on health but a computer programmer’s compulsive need for E numbers.

“Sure thing, John. Just caffeine, cocaine and gin.” He waves a hand and keeps walking.

He gets out of the car to stretch his legs and goes for a short prowl around the tiny outdoor seating area. Just as he’s stretching out his quads, his phone rings.

“Hey there, polar bear.”

Rest, and a day of forced routine attending lectures, have obviously done Gordon some good. He’s evened out a little, lost that manic gleam. Last night – or rather in the early hours of this morning – it had been all John had been able to do to coninvce him to get some sleep. He had spent most of the evening stuck between gears, trapped between being furious at this Lady Penelope and being utterly besotted. One minute John had been talking him down from turning her and himself in to the Admiralty, and the next he seemed about ready to start carving “GCT hearts PCW” into bulkhead walls. He had paced back and forth, bouncing up onto his hammock and back down again, peeling off one item of clothing at a time until he was down to his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, repeating things that had been said to him or about him, collapsing with a sigh in his chair and then leaping up to say, “And another thing!”

This evening at least he seems calmer, though the first words out of his mouth are still, “I’ve been thinking about that Lady Penelope chick.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” says Gordon, who is maybe not as oblivious to sarcasm on the subject as John had thought. He’s tipped back precariously on his chair, slurping kelp noodles with a pair of ceramic chop sticks. “Do you think you could track her down?”

In fact, there’s already a burgeoning file about the Lady Penelope Creighton Ward in John’s personal vault, locked behind every digital protection John can come up with, but he’s not going to tell Gordon that. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, come on, Johnnycakes. You can find anybody.”

John winces. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel tonight’s session. Something’s come up.”

“No prob. Everything okay? John?” Gordon’s looking hard at him now and the edges of his smile are starting to droop. He looks unsettled.

“Everything’s fine,” John says and to change the subject he says, “What would you say if I told you Virgil wanted to go to Stanford to study engineering.”

Gordon nods. “Makes sense. Good school.”

“It is a good school. Don’t you think it might be too good a school? Virgil’s always been more focused on the arts then academics.”

“That’s… true.”

“Some of the guys I work with studied engineering at Stanford. They said that was excellent but intense. Might it not be too much for Virgil? He barely scraped through high school math.”

Suddenly Gordon cracks a broad smile. “Oh no. Are we about to have the birds and the bees talk? We are! Oh, no. Johnny!” He throws back his head and laughs.

“Gor… Cooper!”

“Sorry. Sorry. So. When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much and the mommy and the daddy both have IQs pushing 160…”

“Cooper, be serious.”

Gordon slurps a kelp noodle back into his skull. “What I mean is… John, you know Virgil’s good at math, right?”

“Of course, he’s fine, sure. But there are standards–”

“John, you know that Virgil is smart, right?”

“Of course, but multiple intelligences are -”

“No. Not multiple intelligences. Not everyone is special in their own special way. Not everyone get out your crayons and form a circlejerk because we are all about to be blowtorched by the fiery intellect by John Glenn Tracy… I’m losing the run of this metaphor. To rephrase: You know Virgil is smart, like smart smart. Like, you smart.”

There is a moment’s silence, then Gordon groans. “Oh man, you didn’t. Oh, no. I was counting on you to tell Scott. Does this mean I’m going to have to tell Scott? I’m not telling Scott. Why do you think his ‘math tutor’ was an emeritus professor of mathematics instead of the usual broke post-grad?”

“I thought… I thought that was just Dad being Dad.”

“Well, yeah, sure, little bit. Also, no! C’mon, Dude, he got 1007 on his SAT scores the year the mean score was 1006. He nearly failed basic trig yet somehow managed to get by in all those AP calc courses. John, he actually read your dissertation.”

For just a moment John goggles. “Oh, shit.”

Gordon’s noodles nearly come back down his nose. “Johnny, you said a bad word!”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t forget to keep up with your reading.”

“Yes, teach. Say hi to Virgil for me.”

By the time Virgil returns with supplies John’s already got their route to Chicago planned out along with appropriate rest stops and gas stations for re-supplies. “It’s a 26.2-hour drive to Chicago traveling at 60 miles per hour. We’ll each take two six hour shifts, with fifteen minute breaks every two hours. Why don’t you take first shift, while I work out our rest stops.”

“Okay, Johnny.”

Virgil takes the first six hours and John the second. By the time he finishes his shift he’s been awake for 39 hours, so while Virgil drives he dozes in the back seat.

When he wakes up, they’re already in Kansas.

[vertiny-main]

BOOK 2, CHAPTER 1

Masterlist here.

Reactions under the ‘Keep Reading’ cut.

- Alright, we back, and I’m more than ready to get my best friend back!

- Ooof, I’m on the loading screen, and boiiiii, I am r e a d y for this!

- That’s actually a really cool way to give the player the choices to import their previous choices.

- I’M DEAD OML. As it shows you a “flashback” type thing, the art of Sean in the pool is the background and it pops up with Diego saying “Come on, MC. We promised we’d make the most of this trip.” and I just… I’m dead. 😂

- I am on my way, Diego. Hold tight.

- Estela smashing Rourke in the face right off the bat? Oh-kay.

- Estela I love you, but even I can’t let you beat a man when he’s out of it.

- You know, go straight into planning when you’ve had a massive rush of adrenaline, which is probably gonna wear off so you should probably get some sleep first, before coming up with a battle plan.

- Wooooow - “Oh my god, MC just said ‘sack’! I’m dying! I can’t breathe!” - Craig, I love you so much.

- “…But you’re the best, and I love you.” I LOVE YOU TOO RAJ!

- Zahra is awesome. I love.

- Can I still wrap Aleister in a hug?????

- I love that Jake’s silver lining is about us not getting killed and going through the portal. 😂

- ‘Book 2 introduces Tough Choices. These choices have a percent chance of success based on your relationship with a character.’ WELP. Y’ALL IT LOOKS LIKE WE’RE GONNA STRUGGLE FROM HERE ON OUT.

- My heart was like “Nope, this isn’t gonna work.” as I tapped on the tough choice, but iT WORKED!

- And uh… “…Okay, MC. For you.” STOP IT QUINN!

- Jake, honey, I love you, but… DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME YOU THINK DIEGO IS DEAD!

- WAIT WHAT?! DIEGO IS IN MY MIRROR???

- Okay, never mind.

- Aye, we get the closet in this book!

- The outfits in this book are cute!

- I know who Mar would want me to pick for who I spend time with when coming up with a plan, but honestly? I think I’m gonna pick Sean and stick with him! I’ll definitely do a playthrough with Jake for myself (or for y’all if you want that?)

- Ooof, MC x Sean squeeze at my heart. They’re utter dorks. I love.

- Like, I know Diego let himself be taken so it would save MC, but do you know how cool it’d be to have had MC taken instead? (Or MC and Diego?) and see how they went through the six months and if they started to give up hope or anything like that! Oooo!

- “What are you talking about, MC? Everybody knows by now you don’t have any.” Oh, honey, I have a lot of flaws.

- It’s lowkey tempting me to be a thot and date all at once, but I can do that on my other phone. For my main playthrough, I’ll stick to Sean.

- So, MC and Sean just kissed, and MC’s just complimented his kissing skills, and this utter dork… “Who cares, if it didn’t come from you?”

- Mysterious doors… Why do I feel like this isn’t gonna end well?

- Again, I love Craig and Zahra and their dynamic.

- Not gonna lie, I have always personally thought that the medical symbol (the three snakes/hydra thing) has always been kinda cool!

- “Quick, MC! Grab the Twizzler!” Oh Raj, I’ve missed you!

- Jake, we’re gonna be amazing friends. “…whatever sex dungeon Rourke has set up.” My exact thoughts!

- Huh, it’s a weird museum thing and one of the domes are broken?

- Why do I feel like something is gonna happen. Michelle offers MC the idol and instead of saying anything else, it just says ‘Touch it.’ I DON’T WANNA!

- Told ya something would happen.

- AWH MICHELLE BBY! I AM SO SORRY! I’M PROTECTING YOU TOO!

- I DON’T LIKE THESE IDOLS.

- My babies are all ready to go save Diego with me. I’m emotional.

- Rourke, I’m calling bullshit that we’re on the same team.

- Can I punch Rourke yet???

- I really wanna, pleaseeeee.

[soakedmilkgt]

THERE IS A SIZE SHIFTER!!???? You are spoiling me with this

Mar and Jake- Chapter 6

Here we go folks, the 6th chapter of this story is ready, so I'm giving it to you now. I'd very much appreciate it if you could reblog this.

Also if anyone wants to be in the tag list, send me a message I'll tag you when I release the 7th chapter!

Current tag list: @soakedmilkgt

1st Chapter Chapter five chapter six (you're here) chapter seven (coming soon)

----- 3000~ words

Mar never thought this would happen. She felt extremely dehumanized. As Jake walked, the bag shook. She saw him raise the bag flap, place her phone inside and close it, as he continued walking. She felt like a doll, like someone’s secret. She was hidden away and had no way of knowing what’s going on outside, where she was, or what time it was. She was surrounded by Jake’s things: a pen, a notebook, an apple, and a few more things she couldn’t identify. She was just one of his things, that he may or may not remember he put in his bag. She wanted to tell him this was wrong, that he couldn’t treat her that way. But in reality, she really couldn’t tell him what to do- he was so much bigger than her, he was the one in control. And he chose to hide her way yet within reach so he could do with her as he pleased. She wanted to tell herself he would never do such a thing, he’s a good person, he treated her so well in the past few days, but in the end, she was powerless in comparison to him- so the fear that he might mistreat her was always lingering. He was already mistreating her, anyway.

A sudden movement pulled her away from her depressing thoughts as she felt like the bag was gently placed down and the flap raised as giant hands lowered down and reached for her. That image was scary to her, she didn’t know who that was until Jake’s face appeared with a smile. He must have seen her face because his smile dropped.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked her, his hands freezing in place, hovering above her. But Mar shook her head. She didn’t even know how to explain how much she hated this, so she said nothing. He also sat there not knowing what to say. But there was little time to spare, so he reached inside and grabbed her with one hand, holding her like an ice cream cone and placed her on the dashboard.

“This isn’t very safe, but I figured you’d like it here better.”

Mar looked around and saw she was in a car- Jake’s car. Jake started his car and began driving, the sudden movement almost tipping her over. As he drove to his university, Mar watched from the dashboard, sitting on it with her legs spread to the side and her arms stabilizing her posture. Her broken leg still throbbed, but it was more manageable now. She watched him drive, carefully as to not make any sudden stops lest she fall, and she decided this was the perfect time to talk to him about her reservations.

“Jake, I’m sorry but this… I can’t do this; it feels really dehumanizing how you treated me this morning. Being inside of your bag it’s … it’s just wrong. I’m not one of your things, I -I really hope you don’t see me that way.”

“Of course I don’t see you as one of my things, that’s the last thing I’d want you to think but… I’m not very good at this. I’m sorry, I’ve never dealt with a small person before. I don’t think anyone has, so it’s hard for me to know what to do… I’m doing my best to help you, and I can’t afford to see you hurt yourself again, so I have to be able to be there for you, make sure you’re okay.”

“But I am okay,” Mar was quick to respond to him. “You don’t need to worry about me so much, there’s not much I can do anyways, especially now that I can’t even walk.”

“I’m sorry, you’re a danger to yourself, Mar, I saw you trying to walk last night and even with the chance of you doing that again and hurting yourself more when I’m not home… I can’t risk it.”

Mar turned red with anger. Did he really not trust her that much? So much so that he has to take away her autonomy? She turned to face away from him. She was so angry she couldn’t even talk to him anymore.

Jake sighed. “Look, this day is pretty short for me, anyway, and we’re already here. I’ll make it up to you when we get home, okay?” He knew he messed up. He could see she was holding back tears, but he had no time left to lose. He parked his car in the university parking lot and looked at all the other students walking around, from their cars and on to the grounds, towards the big entrance doors. Anyone could just walk to close and see her. He really didn’t want anyone to see her.

“Please, Mar, just this once. I can’t bear to see you get hurt.” He was pleading at this point. Begging her to let this go. She sighed heavily, trying to prevent the tears from rising up. He was just protecting her. He was only taking care of her the best he could… right?

“Okay, okay. Fine. Whatever. There’s not much I can do anyway, right?” she chuckled nervously, sarcastically. Jake knew she wasn’t joking. He heard the distress in her voice. But there really wasn’t much they could do.

“You ready?” he asked her, before even moving his palms towards her.

“Y-yeah… let’s hope this goes quickly.” He cupped her in his hands.

“I’ll put you in a safer place, okay? Closer to me. If there’s anything you need or want, absolutely anything, just poke me, alright?”

She nodded. He then placed her in an inner pocket of his jacket. He took the bag, slid the strap over the shoulder that was on the side she was at as to not squish her with it and got up, opening the door, locking the vehicles behind him and walking towards the entrance doors. He was late, but he didn’t dare break into a run. He just walked as fast as he could, while holding the bag in one place and the pocket Mar was in in another.

Entering the lecture hall, Jake sat at the back and opened his jacket, so that Mar could have more space. He leaned in and opened his bag, taking out his notepad and immersing himself in the lecture.

Mar watched his looming figure from inside the jacket. The smell was weird and overwhelming. Not bad per se, but not exactly pleasant either. She was sitting there awkwardly, here broken leg sort of leaning on her healthy leg to prevent any weight from being put on it as she leaned back onto the fabric. Suddenly the jacked was opened again and her phone was slid down into the pocket she was in. Mar was again reminded of Jake’s thoughtfulness and she could not help but let a small smile slide onto her face.

She unlocked it and began playing silently with the games she had installed to spend the otherwise boring time she has to spend, hidden away in plain sight.

—

Before they knew it, the lecture ended. Jake got up and walked over to his friends, saying hello, how are you etc. Mar blushed. There was something exciting about being hidden yet surrounded by a lot of people. As if she was invisible. She didn’t exactly know whether she liked this excitement or not, though. She listened to their conversation, and wondered whether Jake forgot about her or not. Was she so small she could be so easily forgotten?

“Hey Jake,” Mar suddenly heard a voice approach. “Can I have you for just a minute?”

“Umm sure, what’s happening, Emily?” Mar felt him walk a bit backwards before stopping. But before he could react, Emily pulled back his Jacket and revealed his tiny companion. The sudden movement made Mar feel a bit sick, but when she was revealed she instinctively cowered deeper into the pocket.

“I knew it, you have a tiny friend!” Emily half-shouted triumphantly. Jake quickly pulled the jacket from her and held it close to his body, ending up smushing Mar against him unknowingly. Both were blushing. Jake shushed Emily and pulled her towards a more private area where he was sure there was no one watching or listening. She was smiling broadly.

“How did you know?” he asked her quietly, still holding Mar close to him, her face turning bright red as she could feel his body emitting warmth, only a shirt preventing her from touching his bare skin.

“Educated guess.” Emily shrugged.

“No, be serious, Em, I can’t afford to.. oh… the parking lot …” He face palmed. Mar face palmed as well. That was the only time she was out in plain sight.

Emily smiled again, “bingo”, she laughed. “Come on, who is it? Someone I know? God I wish, this could be great.”

“What’s so great about it?”

“Now I know there are more people like me! Oh come on, show me!” she tried pushing his arm away but he persisted.

“Like… you?”

“Yeah, I never told anyone. But if I show you, you promise not to tell?”

“Only if you promise not to tell or invade my space again.” His voice had a hint of annoyance. ‘Our space’, Mar thought to herself. She prayed he won’t show her, but she couldn’t really do anything about that. She prepared herself to be manhandled again.

Jake then opened the jacked again and looked down at Mar, she nodded at him before he reached in and held her up to Emily’s face- which covered Mar’s entire field of vision. Emily gasped with a big smile.

“Hello! You’re not someone I know yet!” Emily’s giant eyes were examining Mar and that made her feel exposed, as if she were naked. Even if she wanted to reply she could take bring herself to speak. “Why are you hiding? Can’t you grow back?” Emily’s smile faded when she saw Mar’s face. She saw how terrified she was, how much she wanted to disappear. Mar shook her head and lowered her gaze. She felt tears well up again and she hated it. She hated that feeling that was so common to her in the past few days. She felt so vulnerable and helpless yet again. Emily refrained from touching Mar even though she wanted to, and it showed with the hands that were reaching, shaking faintly, towards the tiny figure.

“Do you… mind putting her on the table? Just for a moment.” Emily’s gaze returned to Jake, and so did Mar’s. Jake looked at Mar as if asking her and she nodded approvingly. He did so. Mar sat there awkwardly between two giants, not sure where to look, so she looked at the ground. Only then did Emily notice her broken leg. Before Mar knew it, Emily placed her hand in front of Mar and then, in a blink of an eye, they were at eye level.

Emily smiled broadly again. Mar and Jake gasped. Mar at first was worried, thinking she was shrunk against her will like her, but she saw Emily wasn’t panicking- rather she looked proud of it. She then took mar in for a tight hug. Mar was overwhelmed with emotion. Her eyes began dripping with salty watery tears as she hugged her back even tighter. Mar never thought she would feel a proper hug again ever in her life. Jake, on the other hand, was still in complete shock. He had seen Emily a lot on campus and even interacted with her on numerous times but he could have never guessed that she could transform like that. He never expected to see someone he knew, or thought he knew so well, have a whole entire other life, especially a magical ability. He watched the two tiny women on the table cry and laugh and talk with each other as his mind raced. He thought whatever was happening to Mar was only happening to her, as it sounded like from what she told him about her “dream”. But it seemed like there was a whole other world underneath the one he’s been living his whole life that which he was unaware of.

After a while, Mar let go of her new friend and laughed awkwardly, apologizing.

Jake then caught Emily’s gaze and all the question in his head spilled out of his mouth.

“Emily, I’d never have guessed you can do that, what? How? When? Who else? Is there anyone else?”

“Okaaay, calm down, cowboy, I’ll explain everything later. How about I come over this evening and we could talk privately and properly?” Emily looked between them as they nodded. She then shifted back to Jake’s size and winked at Mar, “see you both later.” And walked away swiftly.

Jake looked at Mar and saw the big smile on her tiny face. He chuckled. He’s never seen her so happy before. They exchanged looks before he placed her back in her designated pocket and on continued with his day.

—

Mar and Jake finally returned home and Jake quickly made them both something to eat. As they were eating Mar asked him, “hey, if I want to, say, take a shower, how can we make that happen?”

“You excited for Emily’s visit?” He teased her.

“Well… yes but that’s not the point,” She hoped to God he couldn’t see her blush. “I haven’t washed myself in days, and I’ve been wearing the same clothes ever since I, well, got this way,” Mar gestured at herself.”

Jake thought to himself for a while. A shower wouldn’t be possible, but a bath could, if they designate a bowl for it in the sink. The bigger problem was the clothes. They had nothing in her size. He could go out quickly and get doll clothes, but they might not fit her or be of a good enough quality. He could wash the ones she was shrunk with and dry them rather quickly. The biggest problem they had, though, was her bandages. They needed to replace them anyway. He relayed those thoughts to Mar quickly and waited for her decision. She opted for the bath and the quick washing of her clothes. So with Jake’s help they arranged everything- he placed a big enough yet not too deep bowl in the bathroom sink and filled it up with water and a bit of soap and mixed it up. He placed Mar next to the sink and walked out of the room. Mar then took off the bandages and clothes for the first time. She covered herself in hand towel and called him back in to take the clothes to wash them. After he left, she got into the bowl and began washing herself. That was extremely relaxing. She tried her best to ignore the fact she was bathing in a freaking bowl, one she probably ate cereal out of once. She pushed the thought away and continued washing herself out of the sweat and grime of the past few days.

In the meantime, Jake hand washed her teeny tiny clothes. He couldn’t help but feel those butterflies in his stomach, they were so small… he could fit his pinkie though the neck hole of the shirt. He could barely hold her socks between two fingers without losing them, so he placed them in a small bowl to keep track of them. As he rubbed the shirt against his other palm to rub off any stains that he couldn’t see even if he tried, he began to worry about Mar again- what if she fell and couldn’t get back up because of her injury? What if she’s calling for help and he can’t hear her? But what if he barges in and invades her privacy? His heart became heavier with every worrying thought that came to his mind. He finished washing Mar’s clothes and went over to the bathroom, knocking at the door.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, worry rising in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good, just give me a few more minutes.” He heard her shout through the door.

With a soft reassured smile, he returned to the kitchen and held Mar’s tiny clothes up on one palm, while another hand held up a hairdryer to his palm and began drying them.

After a while, he came back to mar, who covered herself with the towel again and gave back her freshly clean clothes, folded as best he could (he failed but Mar didn’t say anything), and new bandages and toothpicks. Mar carefully wrapped her leg again and put on her clothes as Jake waited for her outside the door, then took her back to the living room.

“Ah, I feel much better now.” She said with a smile. Jake returned her a smile and looked at his watch. It was already almost nighttime, and Emily hasn’t arrived yet. He contemplated calling her when he realized he didn’t have her number.

“Why don’t we watch television until she arrives?” Jake asked Mar, trying to mask his nervousness. He was still in shock, unable to grasp the fact that she can shift her size like that. Has he been blind to the world around him all this time? Maybe there were so many hints and clues that he had totally missed.

Mar agreed and he turned on the TV, still deep in thought. Is there anyone else he knew that had superpowers related to their size? Could Mar perhaps learn to change her size and become like Emily? So many questions he couldn’t wait to ask.

Mar looked up at Jake from the coffee table and saw he wasn’t really watching with her, As he just tuned on the TV, staring at it with his leg jerking up and down nervously. She was about to ask him what he was so deep in thought about when they both heard a knock on the door