#his whole deal needs a new coat of paint :V

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 5

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / mention of feet

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Baekhyun was trembling. His hands were actually shaking so much each time he tried to type into the keyboard of his phone he hit the wrong letters and the typos rendered his message impossible for even the autocorrect to guess what he was trying to say.

“Just — ugh — just give me a regular keyboard for fuck’s sake,” he was grumbling to himself, “my hands wont stop shaking. I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He tossed the phone with force away from him and it landed face down on the carpet across the living room.

“No. I refuse,” he was staring over at the phone on the floor with a shell shocked aura about him, “just forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t. I won’t!”

You’d given him a homework assignment an hour ago.

Ask a girl out on a date.

He’d been sitting on this sofa with his phone in his hands, writing, deleting, rewriting and deleting, again and again, into the text message conversation he had going with Mia.

It had been going pretty well with Mia actually. You’d been handing him the reins more and more and you both celebrated together with a single glass of wine the night he’d had his first actual phone conversation with her. Baekhyun was a lightweight and usually refused to drink more than a few sips of alcohol but he’d gone for the chilled bottle in the fridge and poured it into two glasses and handed one of them to you and lifted his own into the air. He did not wait for you to acknowledge his toast though. He just downed the contents of his glass with a wince on his face in a single go, slammed the empty glass down onto the counter roughly and stormed out of the kitchen toward his bedroom. You sipped your glass and counted it as a shared celebration.

His phone call lasted for 3 minutes and 32 seconds and he managed to tell one awkward joke that elicited audible laughter from the girl. You knew because you sat on the couch beside him with your ear pulled up as close to the phone as you could manage, trying to hear everything that happened. You’d let him know you were here to intervene if something went wrong but honestly you were sure he would do well on his own. And honestly, he was about to do well on his own, despite how awkward and very nervous his voice was.

They had gotten past the introductions at least twice when he briefly forgot what came after “hello” and simply said it a second time. She at least said it twice too and the awkward pause that came after that went on for too long when you held up the index card in your hand and pointed with your finger to the question you had written down.

“Uhh...so h-how...umm...how are — I mean, what are you up to?”

You couldn't make out her response, but whatever she said pulled an interested hum from the back of his throat and he made a quick witted remark that had her giggling in response.

You could definitely make out the sounds of her laughter and you could instantly see the change on his face when it happened. You saw the brightness form inside his eyes and he turned to look at you with a surprised expression as he lifted a finger to point at the phone he held in his hand.

His eyes were wide with something in between amazement and panic and he mouthed the words ‘she’s laughing’ at you and you nodded enthusiastically in response.

Unfortunately a few seconds after the joke he accidentally dropped the phone and it took a wild bounce, landing somewhere under the couch. He couldn’t find it for two whole minutes and when he finally found it, he made up some excuse about having to go because he smelled something burning.

He stared at the phone until the screen turned black and he didn’t move when you rubbed a soothing hand over his back.

“That went pretty good,” you offered. Baekhyun grunted and turned toward the kitchen for the celebratory toast.

Since that night, (you know the one) you’d intentionally taken on a more supportive teacher role in this project. You vowed to keep yourself involved as much as he needed and you swore you could keep your own selfishness from impeding his progress. The way you had been acting had been unfair and he was too good to you for him to deserve anything less than your very best.

You had made a promise to Baekhyun and then you made a promise to yourself to follow through on that promise. You would move Heaven and Earth to help him reach his goal because he deserved it and seeing him happy would be enough to get you through anything that came your way.

You were fine.

No really, you were completely fine.

He was moaning.

You sat on the couch beside him with your foot propped up on the coffee table as you carefully applied the second coat of polish to your toenails. You’d become quite the expert at applying polish to your nails during bumpy situations. Sitting next to the man who flailed and squirmed beside you on this sofa was commonplace and simply no big deal.

You could probably do this during an earthquake.

His moaning turned into much louder moaning and he threw himself back onto the arm of the couch dramatically and in protest of the unfairness of your assignment.

“Buuuug,” he whined through his nose, drawing it out like a little kid.

You’d just finished your pinky toe when his foot pushed up against your thigh.

Your aim was quick and you reached over and grabbed his foot by the heel as you pivoted in place.

“Be still,” you said calmly and you held his foot in place as you applied the bright red polish to his big toenail. You often did his toes to match your own because it made his toes look adorable and he wore socks everywhere he went anyway so he didn’t mind what you did to amuse yourself.

You moved quickly, dabbing carefully over each of his nails until they were all painted to match yours. You blew air over them to dry them, being thankful you’d invested in the 60 second polish.

“Buuu-hu-hu-hu-uuug,” he moaned harder, wiggling his hips into the fit he was throwing and closing his eyes to sell you on the absolute anguish he was in. “Bug, I just don't think I can do it. Can we do something else? I don't even know what to do on a date. What if she says no? Oh god, what if she says yes, I’m going to puke. Do you want to see me puke? Because I am going to puke.”

You tapped a hand lightly over the top of his finished foot and pointed to the other one and after a few moments he shifted, giving in to what you asked for right away.

But good lord, he was dramatic. The whining and the moaning intensified just when you thought you couldn't stand another volume increase he raised his voice into a shout and put actual words to his protests. Your ears were already ringing and you could feel your substantial patience — really, you were on a level with a Buddhist monk after two years living with this — beginning to shake.

“I mean, if I asked you to teach me how to swim would you chuck me into the ocean on the first day?”

You forced your focus down on his other foot, getting the polish smooth and perfect with each stroke. He had gone quiet after his question to you and you bit down on your lip as you carefully pondered the words he was saying. The last thing you wanted was to make him so uncomfortable he was unable to go about his daily life. You didn't need this project to become a source of heartache for the man.

You were not an unreasonable person. Perhaps this really had been too big of a step for him to take without having even practiced under the careful instruction of a teacher.

He’d waited in silence for you to answer for only a few seconds and when you didn’t; because you were thinking about it, dammit, he threw his whole head back and his mouth opened up and he wailed into the ceiling above his head at an even more annoying volume than you thought was possible. This was new and shocking. It was deafening. Surely the neighbors would think someone was being butchered in here.

The awful sounds were coming straight from his diaphragm. The man had power in those pipes and he was going to destroy your ear drums in order to get his way. It went on and on, changing from a moaning, groaning large-dog-with-a-bellyache sound into what you imagined it might sound like inside of an echo chamber trapped with a big sad whale, the biggest ones they made, who also happened to be on fire. He was giving you everything he had now. This was full volume and it was horrible.

“Alright!” You shouted over the wretched screaming, “Alright fine! For the love of God, Baekhyun!” You said for emphasis and the incredible relief of silence flooded and cleansed your ear drums that still vibrated from the after effects of all of that noise.

He lifted his head and closed up his mouth instantly and his eyes were wide as he cautiously watched and waited for what you would say next.

“Do you want me to teach you? Do you think you can practice with me so you learn how to do it before you have to do it for real, on your own? That’s what you mean right? You want more instruction before I throw your ass into the ocean?”

His lips were situated down into a fierce pout now and he nodded his head twice; a big ol’ up and down.

You were irked now. No amount of pathetic pouting on that face could pull you back from the edge. Even the slow careful nod of his head was just an obvious attempt at winning you over with cuteness. Well, it wouldn't work. If anyone was capable of annoying someone to death, it was this man right here and he came very close just now.

“New assignment,” you said with your finger raised and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and pushed his top lip forward as he inflated his cheeks into round balloons. He sat up straighter and he waited for you to speak.

“Since I am a woman,” you began with your finger still raised and waving in his direction. His eyes glanced down at it, “you may ask me out on a date, for practice. And if I say yes, we will then—”

Your pointed finger was joined by your whole hand as you opened it up and you waved it through the air twice, a visual representation of cause and effect of such a situation. His eyeballs followed every movement you made, looking at the hand that moved instead of at you, the actual speaker.

His eyes popped up into yours when he registered the words you were saying; the requirements of his new assignment.

“...we will then — well, we will..”

Your words were sticking. He was listening very closely and he’d released the air trapped in his mouth and his lips now hung open as his eyes occasionally followed the waving of your hand in front of his face. It was silly how shifty his focus was when your hand moved in front of him.

“We...will…” he said and his face moved, mirroring the movements of your hand as he tried best to understand the new task you were trying so hard to assign to him, even repeating your words to help you get the next ones out.

“We will go on a date. A real one. A practice date. You will have to take me on a date, Baekhyun. You’ll just have to .. do your best at it.”

“A date? I’ll have to,” he said with a flinching, squinting blink of his eyes, “...do my best?”

“Yes, of course,” you said as you pointed your finger at him again, pulling a swift but deep gasp into your lungs to fight the dizziness you could feel building inside your head, “It’s an assignment. Like school. I will give you a grade on how well you do. If you fail, then it’s over and I’m a terrible teacher and clearly your problems are beyond my area of expertise.”

His polish was dry. This conversation needed to be over because you were weirdly agitated by the wide eyed, deer in the headlights expression stuck on his face.

“I’ll send you some study materials later. You better take this seriously, Byun Baekhyun. This is a real assignment from your real dating teacher.”

The entire situation made you anxious. The desire to flee was very strong. You needed a getaway and you needed it now. You felt a tremble inside that could only be attributed to just how freaked out he had been acting. It was rubbing off on you.

You wanted to make a quick escape but you were now fighting with the many bottles of nail polish scattered across the coffee table; you’d gone through so many of them as you decided on which color to use — they really were just numerous and just everywhere. You grasped at them, trying to grab huge handfuls at one time but your hands couldn't hold as many as you wanted and each attempt sent a bottle or two clattering noisily to the table below. It was really ruining the dramatically cool exit you were trying for.

After quite a bit of noise you felt the warmth of Baekhyun’s arm as he leaned against you and began to help you pick up the bottles; carefully placing each in it’s designated spot in your huge nail polish organizer.

It took a bit of effort for you to turn to look at him and when his fingertips carefully placed the final bottle in the case you clicked the lid closed and finally managed to face him.

His eyes were flighty. His face was flushed and when he met your eyes the smile on his lips was very tense. It looked like a grimace.

You had to be insane to be doing this. Willingly putting yourself into a situation like this with him, a situation that was for instructional purposes only, but a situation nonetheless. Your heart was racing inside of your chest and you briefly wondered if he could hear it with him sitting so close to you.

You swallowed it away, the nerves or the uncertainty or whatever it was that had taken hold of your hands and made them unstable and you turned to look into his face head on.

“Do you understand the assignment?”

Baekhyun filled his lungs with air and straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as his eyes closed up. You recognized the self calming behavior. When he turned to look at you he held a new determination in his eyes and he nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I was always a good student,” he said, “I will do my best with this assignment. I’ll take it seriously, so I can learn from you well.”

You reached forward and patted the back of his hand lightly and offered a reassuring smile.

“Don't be too nervous, okay? Remember it’s for class so you should learn from it. Mistakes are natural and they help us grow. And you won’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I mean it.”

He swallowed and his lips flattened out into a thin line across his face. His head bobbed up and down and he hummed out a response that told you that yes, he did know what was expected of him for the sake of the lesson; for the sake of his future as an adult man who was entering the dating pool in search of the companionship of some lucky lady.

“Also remember, it’s just me. No pressure. Okay, Peanut? I’m here to help you. You could spill an entire cup of iced tea down my dress at dinner and I would still forgive you.”

“No pressure,” he repeated under his breath and when you were finally satisfied that he really understood, you stood, hefting your manicure supplies up with both hands and you stepped away from the living room to return them to your bathroom.

“Do I have a deadline?” He called after you and you turned back with your hand on the doorknob to your room, quietly amused by the seriousness you saw on his face. At the same time, proud of what a good student he was. He was a smart boy, he would do well in anything he was determined to do.

“Ask me out by tomorrow or else Ben might beat you to it.”

You figured a little sense of competition couldn't hurt. And yes, you were still actually speaking regularly with Ben. You were pleasantly surprised with how smart and how funny he turned out to be and he turned out to be a pretty good distraction for the evenings when you’d normally be bored and hanging around in Baekhyun’s room while he played some game on his PC and he’s toss you a remote for the screen that hung up on the wall above his head. You’d play music videos, or cooking videos from YouTube, or some drama or variety shows and he’d play his games and lean far back in his chair watching the screen when exciting things happened on screen.

A few times lately though, when you went into his room you’d find him watching some anime and you just knew he’d want to pay close attention so he could discuss it later with Mia. You’d much rather find someone to entertain you alone so you didn’t have to be ignored or shushed when you interrupted his anime with some stupid question about it, like who is that guy with the crazy eyes and why is he trying to kill everybody. Ben’s conversations were good enough to keep you occupied at least a little bit.

Back in your bedroom you got to work searching for materials for Baekhyun to study. Mostly using helpful YouTube videos with titles such as “how to ask a girl out”, “what to talk about on a first date” and a super helpful online book you found called The Gentleman’s Guide: How to be the Perfect Date. It was just a little outdated with the styles but the book was extensive and ran the gamut from hygiene to manners to confidence and conversation; it even had an entire section called The Art of Subtle Seduction and it made you just a little embarrassed to think of Baekhyun reading this part. He was an adult. He could handle this much. The Dos and Don'ts of a First Date section alone was worth the price you paid for the book.

You wrote up an email with your course materials and sent it off to the man.

Then you sat and waited alone in your bedroom until your level of boredom that in any other situation would be unremarkable, when combined with the built up anticipation inside of you, mixed into a perfect storm of swirling lunacy that was bouncing around inside of you; trying to break free and wreak havoc on something other than your chest walls.

You grabbed your cell phone, slipped by the 2 waiting text messages from Ben that you would absolutely get to later, and opened a new text message to Baekhyun.

‘peanut did you get my email ^^?’

You were sure he did. Of course he did. You wondered if there was anything he found lacking in the pages and pages of super helpful information you sent him. You wondered what he thought about it all and maybe if he needed some guidance or suggestions on how to proceed with the first step of his assignment. Did he need you to come over to his bedroom and watch the videos with him? Would that be too awkward?

Your phone vibrated.

‘yep’

He would ask for help if he needed it, you were certain. He would be fine. This wasn’t real anyway. It wasn’t like there was an actual deadline, not really. You enjoyed talking with Ben but it didn’t seem like he was close to asking you out yet. He had been a bit busy lately and you had been busy as well with work and with helping Baekhyun.

You’d seen from the notification preview on your phone that Ben’s last two messages were asking you something that would take a while to explain and you didn’t want to open them yet in case he’d been expecting you to reply quickly. You needed a bit more time to come up with an answer for the questions he had casually asked about your roommate. You’d tell Ben that Baekhyun was, yes, a guy. And no, it wasn’t awkward living with a man.

You’d get to all that later. Now, you were entirely too keyed up about a problem of your very own creation.

When.

But really...

When?

You could not relax. Because honestly it could happen at any moment. He could come barging into your room, plop his ass down unceremoniously on your bed and say “Hey Doll, hows about you and me go on a hot date this weekend, what about it? Nyeeahhh?” Like some sort of 1940s gangster. You could definitely see Baekhyun doing this accent. You were pretty sure he had a 40s gangster hat in his closet.

You’d decided that you wouldn't give him a hard time about how he asked you. You’d accept right away for the sake of his nerves, if he worked up the courage to ask you at all, then he was on the right track and he deserved an E for effort.

You still had trouble with the anticipation. Not knowing when was the hardest part to handle. You tried your very best to go about your day in as normal a way possible. Sure, you jumped every time you heard a sound, but other than that, it felt like any other day.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room and didn't even come out until you heard the doorbell ring. You peaked your head out of your bedroom door and waited for him to answer it but after a few minutes with no sight of him you stepped out. The doorbell rang a second time and you rushed from your room to answer it before the visitor gave up.

It could have been something important. This building had a doorman so it was usually someone who had a purpose ringing the bell.

The view through the camera monitor showed a run of the mill pizza delivery man, and you remembered that it was Baekhyun’s turn to make dinner tonight. He must have ordered you a pizza so he could hide in his room all night and not have to worry about walking around you in the kitchen and not asking you out on a date.

This was his way of avoiding you for the night.

You had to swallow down the flash of silly disappointment that popped up. You’d assumed correctly that he had already paid for the pizza and you received your cardboard box of loneliness with a polite smile for the weirdly cheerful delivery kid.

You gave a quick glance at the label in the front of the box to check for forbidden toppings just in case he’d forgotten who he was avoiding tonight and put something weird on it like corn and mayo or hot peppers.  

The label had four lines of ingredients listed, the first said ‘xtra cheese’ and each additional one after that said ‘xtra cheese.’ Nothing else, just ‘xtra cheese’ listed four times in succession.

What in the world?

You briefly considered a malfunction of the pizza shop’s label maker, but boy was this thing heavy. Did he sneeze while selecting toppings and accidentally hit the option four times?

You set the monster down on the counter and lifted the lid. It was steaming hot despite the trip in the car and up the elevators to your door and as soon as you opened it you noticed the odd appearance of the inside lid.

There was a message handwritten with black marker inside of the lid.

Your stomach leapt up into your throat as you recognized what this was. The message started with the word Bug.

You had to cover your mouth to get through this.

Bug,

I know this is really, really, really, really cheesy, but will you go out on a date with me this Saturday?

Knock thrice on my door for yes.

-Peanut

P.S. Did I beat Ben?

You had to hang your head to contain it. You wanted to scream. Giggles actually burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were highly amused. Actually reallly fucking impressed and goddammit you felt a genuine flutter of butterflies inside of your stomach. How was he this clever? He had always been very silly and good at thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios to get things done, but wow. When you lifted the lid once more to read his message again your mind spun with the logistics of that man in that bedroom sneakily ordering this thing from a real pizza shop that was probably a block from your home.

Did he call them and explain the situation? Did all of the employees gather around, chanting ‘More cheese! Give the man more cheese!’ As they loaded this pizza up with what looked to be a full inch of melted cheese on top? It compromised the edges of the crust and flowed over the cardboard below. It was absolutely ridiculous and nearly inedible too.

Did they giggle at the pet names you called each other as they selected the employee with the best handwriting to relay his message?

You were buzzing again. This time it was pride. He was brilliant at everything he put his mind to and this was clearly no exception. He would do so well in his life.

You left the kitchen and made your way toward his closed bedroom door. As you came close you heard a very soft thud; wooden door hitting wooden door frame. The movement was hardly noticeable but you could see a slow turn of the doorknob too. He probably thought he was sneaky.

You lifted your closed fist and quietly hit three times against his door and after exactly ten seconds you heard the squeak of his doorknob turning and his bedroom door opened up an inch.

You saw a single brown eyeball peeping at you through the opening.

“I’ll text you the details later,” he whispered and the door closed up again before you could respond.

The details came by text message a day later, just as he promised. It was a Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed and you’d just put the final touches on your data entry work for the day, running it through a spell checker for mistakes as you always did. You’d expected to hear from Ben by now, he said he had something to go straighten out at the bank. He’d taken it well, finding out that your roommate was a man around your age, and he didn’t even ask too many prodding questions about him.

The message was from Baekhyun with the time he would ‘arrive’ to pick you up on Saturday and he gave you sparse details about what he actually had planned; just a quick note at the end that he would be wearing a suit. You figured this was a hint for you to dress up as well.

Was Baekhyun taking you some place fancy? Your curiosity was positively burning and Baekhyun had been acting super weird around you lately.

Whenever you’d come into a room he was already occupying he would make up some excuse why he had to leave it and vanish inside his room to carry on with his highly secretive behavior. Whenever you went into his room he would spin in his chair toward the door with what you were positive was a caught red handed look on his face. It was like you had just caught him watching porn, only you’d caught glimpses of his screen before he quickly hit a keyboard command to clear out the screen and you didn't see a single boob.

After the first time, you’d made it a point to barge into his room often, just to see the surprised look on his face; you did it all for that gasp of air, the frantic fingers of panic on the keyboard, and the trembling hand over his chest as he clutched his pearls. All you caught flashes of were just regular looking websites. Regular text and regular pictures. You saw some blues, you saw some greens. You definitely didn't see the incriminating black and yellow theme of everyone’s favorite adult website. There was nary a penetrative moan to be heard through his speakers. The entire thing brought you great joy. The man was acting so odd and honestly he was getting your hopes up for a fantastically mind blowing date on Saturday. You’d already picked out your dress, heels, and jewelry and had been having a very hard time tolerating the ever so tedious passage of time.

By the time Saturday rolled around you were a wreck of nerves; though you weren’t exactly sure why you were so anxious. It was probably his recent fretting and obsessive preparations that had rubbed off on you. You’d decided to take it easier on him today. He’d obviously been working very hard on this assignment once given the dangling carrot of a good grade to be awarded at the end and if there was one thing you knew about Baekhyun, it was how much he strived to achieve perfection in his academic performance. You’d provided the materials. He’d obviously been studying and go-time was quickly approaching.

You took your time getting ready, soaking in your bathtub to kill some of the dull waiting hours before he was due to pick you up. By the time you were scrubbed, rinsed, shaved, moisturized, plucked, preened, coiffed, and scented to your satisfaction, you had only a half an hour to slip up the straps on the fancy fitted cocktail dress and check your reflection in the full length mirror. It was fitted and had a deep plunging neckline. It accentuated the best parts of your figure and the high slit that landed over your upper thigh showed just enough skin to make you feel sexy.

With your heels you were ready to go; feeling about as pretty as you had in a long while. The silliest little fantasy swam through your head as you spun in front of the mirror and it brought just a little warmth to your cheeks as you allowed it to play out. The idea that he would find you so lovely, so irresistible, that even the iron willed man with his self control like a steel trap would lose himself in the slow blinks of your lashes and drown in the pools of your eyes for just one night.

When you lightly slapped a palm over your cheek, it was to ground yourself. This was fake. Everything that happened tonight would be the result of careful calculations and applications of behaviors modeled in text books that he had studied all week long. It was a date with Baekhyun, but it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of the Baekhyun that you know so well.

You knew he would follow a script. He would perform as a perfect gentleman and you would play along, knowing that when he brought you home you would get a gentle hug and a thanks for sharing your knowledge with him and you would close your bedroom door and he would return to his bedroom door and life as you know it would simply fall back into place as it should remain unchanged for however long it took for you to get back on your feet, perhaps get a place of your own not too far away from him; although this neighborhood was very expensive, you’d settle for one or two subways stops away if it meant you could visit your best friend often and see him living out the life he deserved with someone who was worthy of his love.

Tonight, you will enjoy. But you would not allow your emotions to betray your rational mind. You would enjoy it and then it would be over and Baekhyun would have the skill set to ask out Mia, or whoever else he set his mind on asking out.

Your quiet self assurance was interrupted by two soft knocks on your bedroom door and your hands were trembling as you grabbed your handbag that had your cell phone, a tube of lipstick for touch-ups and a few just in case items you were always taught to carry with you, you know, just in case.

You’d reached the door and swung it open with a beaming smile on your face.

Your date was here. Baekhyun was here. It was Peanut.

A smile that quickly transformed into what you were sure was a gaping opening in your face resembling some aquatic animal and you found yourself gazing upon, frankly, an expertly styled exquisitely handsome real life man, who was wearing Byun Baekhyun’s face and smile.

Despite seeing him standing before you with your own two eyes, your brain was having trouble reconciling the two; your harmless roommate and the man who stood before you wearing a crisp suit jacket that he filled out shockingly well, a fashionable collarless dress shirt that looked like it came from some fancy boutique from downtown, fitted dress slacks that you tried your best not to linger on for too long, and were his shoes Italian? You were pretty sure they were Italian. More than just the clothes, his hair was different. He’d gone and had something done to his hair! Lord, you saw slight waves and a deliberate styling by an expert hand with just a bit of his forehead visible. Oh he looked so lovely with this hair style.

You remembered to close your mouth, but only after the realization dawning on you that he hadn’t said anything to you as you silently admired how beautiful he looked standing in his fancy suit looking like at least a million bucks.

You knew...you knew he was an attractive man. You’d have plenty of glimpses of it again and again, freshly reminded of it during that photo shoot late that night. You’d even known he worked out and had had plenty of chances to ogle the muscles on his arms and chest when he just woke up and would wander out shirtless for a drink of water. You knew that the entire shape of this man was the kind of handsome that you had to make conscious decisions to ignore. You’d forced yourself to look away plenty of times in the past. Still, the Baekhyun who stood here today, the one who had his lips parted as he stared into your eyes now after what you were certain was a head to toe, slow as hell, full body appreciation of all of your preparations to get ready for tonight, this Baekhyun was, for lack of a better word, he was sexy as all hell.

For the first time since you began this project; these lessons in dating, you felt like you might actually be in some sort of trouble.

Baekhyun spoke at last and it was the softest whisper. He said your name. Not Bug, not stupid or dummy or stinky which he called you sometimes even though you knew, you fucking knew you always smelled amazing. You went out of your way to smell great. The sound of your name on his voice softened the shock in your face and you felt a smile pull at your lips.

And so you smiled at him and watched the slow but complete smile that manifested on his pretty face.  

“Hi,” he said with a blink of his bright eyes.

“Hi Baek,” you said. Your heart was racing.

He pivoted on his (Italian!) shoes and extended a bent elbow toward you and you slipped a hand around his arm.

He was doing so well. Each step you took through your shared home felt new. You had a hard time keeping from watching the side of his face and each glance you made was greeted with the light touch of his eyes as he met your eyes with his own.

Moments blurred. He ticked all the boxes, of course. He opened your door, closed it quietly behind you once you were inside. Even helped you with the seatbelt, much to the dismay of your racing heartbeat when he reached over to pull the red strap across you, careful to keep his hands well away from touching any of your actual body as he did it. The true devastation hit you when, all closed up inside the dark car in the silent moments before he started the engine and the intoxicating smell of him reached your nose.

This was a new smell. Baekhyun had gone to the salon, gone shopping for expensive new clothes, and was also wearing what had to be the best smelling cologne you had ever experienced in person.

“You smell really good,” you said without looking at him and your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your handbag to keep your mind working.

“So do you,” he said followed by an inhale that you were certain sounded just a little thready and he was steering the car through lanes and turns of a parking garage to exit the building.

His destination was the kind of fancy dream-like restaurant that you saw only in movies. The sun would be setting soon and you were led to a rooftop terrace with a view over the city and a single table set for two. You followed the pleasantly clean woman and lingering just behind you, Baekhyun silently fell behind one or two steps. A glance behind woke him up from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he closed the distance with two larger steps and a shy smile on his lips.

The waitstaff worked like ninjas. Glasses were refilled as if by magic and course after course of delicious food appeared before you as you watched the sunset over the horizon and when the light faded enough, the soft glow of twinkle lights illuminated the view around you.

The dinner was delicious and the scenery was breathtaking and that alone would have given him full marks for such a lovely evening out, but Byun Baekhyun was proving to be an overachiever as he started to talk to you. He was asking you open-ended questions, pulling conversation easily from you and you found yourself giggling and laughing as he joked in response or told you some funny anecdotes from his childhood that he knew you would love.

By the time dessert arrived you were pretty certain you were drunk despite half of the wine that remained back in your glass. Baekhyun, ever the stickler for vehicle safety had stuck to soft drinks and when he excused himself for the restrooms, you waited patiently under the glowing lights as you daydreamed about the genuine brightness you were certain you saw in his smiles. Had the twinkle in his eyes been just a reflection of this place? Everything about him tonight felt so real. You’d read through the same book he read through and you couldn’t recall him using a single recycled phrase or conversation point during dinner.

Maybe he was just that good of a student.

A noise startled you from behind and you jumped when a single red rose was laid on the table in front of you.

A rose. Baekhyun had brought you back a rose from somewhere; maybe he stole it from the elaborate flower arrangements you passed on the way in.

“Where did you get this?” You mused as you smelled his sweet offering and he shrugged and tugged at the top button of his shirt, undoing it and slipping slim fingers down to undo the second button as well. Your eyes watched the action and weirdly the fragrance from the rose smelled sweeter than the first time you smelled it.

“I just had it,” he said cryptically with another charming and blinding smile.  

“Ready to go? We have one more place to visit.”

The next place he took you was even more magical than the fancy restaurant. The parking lot was nearly empty and when he opened your door he was fussing around with a small bag in the backseat of his car.  He pulled out a pair of black ballet flats and you watched in awe as the man actually kneeled down on the pavement in front of you to carefully slip your heels off of your feet and slip on the comfortable shoes.  

While they did not look anywhere near as sexy as the heels did, you instantly understood the need for a change.

Baekhyun had brought you to an aquarium with what looked like miles and miles of indoor and outdoor paths to walk through with tunnels traveling through the biggest tanks of aquatic sea life you’d ever seen.

You were instantly hypnotized by the deep sea exhibits that seemed to take you for miles and miles below the surface of the ocean where the sea life grew weirder and the lighting grew darker and dimmer the further down you traveled. Here at depths difficult to wrap your brain around the fish and sea creatures have adapted to freezing waters and a bleak existence without any light at all. Many had their own light sources. The bioluminescent exhibits sparkled and twinkled like the stars in the sky out in the country. You saw entire universes all around you.

Baekhyun was as enraptured as you were and spent his time carefully reading each exhibit’s information card out loud as he stared with his mouth open in awe at the different creatures. There were hundreds of different species of fishes, beautiful ones and downright creepy ugly things from the very bottom of the oceans; endangered species too; the sleepy eyes of the sea turtles were your favorites and the impressions Baekhyun made of their swimming faces made you cackle with laughter. Bright lights illuminated meters of corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and you honestly felt like you��d entered another planet when you both walked into the jellyfish halls.

They glowed and flowed, bounced and danced, and moved like a dream. You found yourself hypnotized as you stared at the biggest tank full of them for long enough for Baekhyun to make three circles around waiting for you to follow him out of this room so he could go see the sharks.  

You knew the sharks were coming. You’d had a look at the map. And while you didn't necessarily dislike them, their huge sizes and razor sharp teeth always gave you the heebie-jeebies. The jellies were just so comfortable to look at and so relaxing.

It took some coaxing from Baekhyun, and maybe even a little tiny push at the back of your shoulders to get your feet to move and you lingered a bit long in the dark hallway that connects the two exhibits.

You just felt that maybe, the sharks could wait just a little bit longer to meet you.

He’d noticed right away and you opened up your eyes that you’d closed up for a little relaxing session when you felt the tips of his fingers running along the palm of your hand.

He gripped lightly at first, and then shifted your hand within his and he began walking forward in that dark hallway with you trailing behind him.

Baekhyun touched you sometimes. This was something that he did, on occasion. During a scary movie when you’d jumped too many times, or when you both walked through a crowded place and he didn't want you to wander off, he would occasionally hold your hand.  This wasn’t something new to you.

However your heart was beating hard in your chest and the warmth of his hand coupled with the firmness with which he held you felt so damn nice you were having trouble focusing on anything else except for your own shallow breathing and racing heartbeat — and his hand holding yours.

Sharks swam at a gentle languid pace. Clearly at ease and very well fed here in their homes, there didn't seem to be very much murder and feasting happening at all. Hammerheads, tiger sharks, something uglier than any other creature you had ever seen that came from The Midnight Zone of the deepest parts and with each creature that swam overhead, or beside you, or creeped up from somewhere behind you, Baekhyun would turn to face you and take two or three steps backwards as he pulled you through it, your hand held securely inside of his. He would smile at you that debilitating smile, and tilt his head and call you a scary cat or a big baby and you would laugh and roll your eyes and deny that you were even a little bit scared of anything at all.

All was going well. You were very well taken care of and felt very secure inside this tiny tunnel at the bottom fo the ocean and you’d noticed this time when Baekhyun had turned around to look at you with a bright smile that smile wavered just a touch and his eyes seemed to focus on something that was coming up from behind.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to see what he saw.

Baekhyun moved quickly then, moving both of his hands up to reach for your face he pulled your head forward and moved his own face close to yours. You felt the warmth of his forehead lean against yours for a moment and you could not see around or behind you with his hands placed so carefully on the sides of your head like this.

You knew what it was. It had to be something huge and terrifying, maybe even something with fresh blood still on it’s teeth. A Great White. The giant monster from the movie Jaws that you had watched with him once not realizing just how scary it would be and you spent most of the film curled up under his arm wincing at the horrors you saw on the screen.

“Hey Peanut,” you said softly while looking up close into his eyes. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. His smell, that new smell of his smelled even better this close to his skin.

“Hey LoveBug,” he said with a gentle smile and you knew based on the use of this carefully reserved nickname for emergencies that it was exactly as you had feared. A Great White, chomping on the remains of the cutest crying baby penguin. The fluffiest one with its whole life ahead of it.

Baekhyun was safe though. Baekhyun was warm and he was here to protect you. You would be okay, you knew it.

“Is it gone yet?” You asked after what felt like the average time for a fish that size to swim away and you noticed something. It was a look, just a glance. Baekhyun’s eyes floated a bit and the warm breath you felt coming from him was delivered in quicker puffs through his parted lips.

When he licked his lips, you could not help it, your eyes caught the motion as his tongue ran over his bottom lip and left wetness behind and by the time you realized what you had done — where you had looked — you had already done it, your stubborn eyes had already looked and in your mind a vivid replay was happening. You felt too much. This was too much. This was supposed to be fake. Why did he have to smell so fucking good and why was he so aware of every tiny detail about you he knew when something would overwhelm you and ruin your mood, so he used his own body to shield you from it and protect you. You cautiously pulled your eyes back up only to find him blinking too fast and he was dropping his hands from your face as he took a step back and away from the stifling closeness.

You were dizzy. You felt it all over. Your heart was racing and the warmth you felt traveling through your body sent waves through you. You had to rub lightly over your forearms to smooth out the goosebumps and Baekhyun was no longer facing you, but was staring off into the literal depths of the cold black ocean and you took a while to recover enough to walk by him toward the exit of the aquarium and back into the darkened city streets you knew as the real world.

The walk back to the car was quiet and had an odd flavor about it. You both could feel the end coming. It had been a wonderful date. You’d spent hours, just the two of you talking and laughing and exploring literally new worlds you hadn’t before experienced. You felt a sudden but definite melancholy to see the fancy circles that made up the logo of his car.  

“Hey, you want to take a walk?” Baekhyun’s voice halted your steps and you turned back to see him standing with a hand in his pocket, fidgeting in hidden, likely with the key fob to his car, and a new sort of nervous flush on his cheeks that you hadn’t seen since he first showed up at your bedroom door looking like a dashing Prince Charming ready to sweep you off your feet.

“Sure,” you said, meaning every bit of it and secretly extremely thankful that this evening wasn’t over yet.

The walk was peaceful. It was a bit chilly tonight and you didn’t even resist when you felt the warmth of the coat jacket he placed over your shoulders. You thought you’d become used to the smell of him by now, but clearly you were incapable of ever getting used to his smell.

The streets were mostly empty now that the night had grown stale and you walked side by side passing various touristy shops that had long since closed up for the evening. Ahead you could see a small street side cafe that sold warm teas and coffees and Baekhyun was pulling out his wallet before you even had the chance to look at him with hopeful delight all over your face. He ordered two hot coffees and you danced and celebrated when he handed the first one to you.

It warmed you from the inside and you paid no mind to the smudges of lipstick all over the white lid of your cup. The hot drink made you happy and you could see your breath like a dragon in the chilly night air around you. Each puff made Baekhyun smile and when he’d taken a particularly big drink from his cup he pulled his head back and puffed out three perfectly formed rings of warm air into the color air above his head. The rings grew and then faded quickly but you were so excited to see his trick that you made him do it again and again until he was puffing and out of breath  and laughing too much for any more cool rings to form. This man was full of secrets. Absolutely full of them!

The night was winding on. You could feel the lateness in your limbs and you’d long since finished your drinks and dropped your paper cups into a street side trash can. Your feet, you found were protesting. It wasn’t that they ached or hurt or anything like that. You weren't even that tired. You were just having trouble with the idea of this ending and the night being over.

Everything had to end eventually. You didn't even pout at all when he pulled open your door. You just climbed in and sat down, fastening your own seatbelt this time with a sense of finality looming in your mind along with a wagging finger that quietly scolded you for letting your guard down during this date.

The drive back home was quiet. He didn't even turn on the radio and even though he drove with one hand, he held his other hand firm atop his thigh.

The small touches and stolen glances were over. The date was over. He had done very well. You were thoroughly swept off your feet and his grade would be an A+. You would go back to your room and go to sleep and tomorrow morning when you woke up you’d find him back to his usual antics and maybe, maybe you’d even get him to ask Mia out on a date.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and the familiar landmarks outside your apartment building called you back home. Baekhyun pulled into the parking garage and you did not wait for him to round the hood of the car to reach your door, you simply opened it yourself and pushed through it.

Baekhyun did well. You had given him a task and he’d done it. He deserved all the praise and recognition for a job well done. He’d taken it seriously just as he said he would. This dark mood that had suddenly come over you could not show. You shouldn’t do this to him.

You cared for him too much to ruin this sweet evening.

You loved him too much. This quiet secret usually echoed around inside of your heart and you winced to hear it peaking it’s way up into your running thoughts.

The apartment was dark and you walked through it easily, knowing exactly where you could walk without bumping into anything and he didn’t turn on any lights as he walked closely behind you. He hadn’t said anything to you on the drive home, nor did he speak right now as he walked you back to your bedroom door where he had picked you up.

You turned to face him now. You pushed a smile up to your lips and his face was mostly in the darkness, barely lit with the city lights from the window.  

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Baekhyun. It was perfect. You were perfect. Seriously, you are amazing.”

You leaned before he did and you felt the staggered response from his limbs as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders for the hug.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered against your ear and when you pulled out of the hug, your small smile was not returned. You could see enough of his face to see that he did not smile at you now.

Your hand was on your door and you turned and stepped inside, thankful that you had left your small table lamp on. The room was warm and inviting and you closed the door behind you with a soft click that sounded exactly like clapperboard snapped to signal the end of a movie scene. You could almost hear a director somewhere yelling cut. Everybody clapped for the job well done. All the actors could now go home. It was over.

Your shoes were off. You’d pulled off the earrings and had taken off your necklace and the delicate tennis bracelet’s clasp was so tiny you had to try a few times to get it open so you could take it off.

When you reached up to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulders a tiny sound interrupted you. It was almost like a knocking, but it was so soft you had to listen carefully to hear if it repeated again.

It did not, but you could not shake that feeling that it had happened and out of genuine curiosity you walked across your bedroom and pulled your bedroom door open.

Someone was there; Baekhyun was there, standing in nearly the exact same position as he had been, wearing the same clothes. The only difference was the sight mess to his hair and the definite pink shade you saw on his face even in the dim lighting from the windows.

“Peanut?” You couldn’t imagine what this was. He was finished. The assignment was finished and he had done perfectly, you’d said so already...but, his eyes. You caught that same look that you’d seen on him many times before. It was a look of hard determination that propelled him forward when he dove into some new and difficult project he had to master. If you had to give it a name, you’d call it his passion. The passion he had inside of him to do things right. To be perfect.

“I said I would take it seriously,” he said in a well controlled voice and you shook your head, not understanding what he meant. Did he have some regrets about how the night went? Did he feel that he had somehow failed to live up to the requirements you’d set forth for him as his teacher?

“The date, I told you I would.” He wasn't clarifying anything with his words.

It was then that he moved.

His hands were up and Baekhyun took a step closer to where you stood confused and surprised at the threshold of your bedroom door. He reached for you with both hands and you felt the warmth of his palms on your cheeks at the same time as you felt the exhale from his parted lips against your mouth. It happened in a single moment. His lips connected with yours and you gasped in a surprised breath. Baekhyun kissed you. His lips were on yours and he held your face tightly between both of his hands as he did it. This was it. This was his goodnight kiss at your front door. This was the end of the date.

You could just make out the ultra up close view of him, his fluffed up hair, the smoothness of his forehead, his eyes closed up tight and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks and it was all a big blur and so you closed your eyes and your heart raged noisily inside of your chest with the sudden need you felt for this to happen.

Your own lips parted and you felt the tilt of his head as his bottom lip pushed out slipping perfectly between your own and you could not stop it. You could not control the tightness with which your hands clung to the cotton of his dress shirt and pulled him toward you. You could not contain the way his tongue brushed lightly against your own and the way you reacted to it. The light moan that escaped from your throat and bounced around inside of his mouth. The light draw you felt on your lip as he pulled lightly and sucked on your lip as he did it. The final pull was him pulling away.

He ended the kiss with a step backward and a drop of his hands from your face.

He had kissed you and you most definitely had kissed him back. The labored breathing you struggled to contain did nothing for the dizziness.  

“Goodnight,” he said with a roughness on his voice; plus the blown out look in his eyes was telling you of many forbidden things that he was running from now. Things that even he knew were a very bad idea.

This had been fake. This was supposed to be a lesson.

You stood at your doorway and watched him disappear into his bedroom and after standing frozen in your doorway you had no choice but to return to the quiet glowing comfort of your own bedroom and close your door too.

Your hands were shaking and you felt the trembling all over you as you looked around at the place you called home. The place you loved more than anything in the world except for maybe that man who was likely facing a very similar struggle behind his own closed bedroom door.

The only difference was just how much you had to lose if you gave in.

You loved him. You knew it deep down inside of your soul. It had been buried for so long deep in the frozen depths of your ocean that you thought it would never surface and consume you, yet now you knew you’d been a fool.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXI

A/N at the End:

Parts I-XIX:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

.XXI.

The cluster of ewes kept a respectful distance on their side of the fence, heads lifted now and then to watch the pair walking along the empty country road. Cordelia avoided a rather large puddle, filled over with dark murky water, and resumed her step with James on the other side. They were losing the light, and the setting sun had tinged the clouds a golden rose that glowed against the cold flat blue of the dusk.

James, tucked his hands into his pockets and resumed his guided tour. “I’m terribly sorry about having to abandon the carriage. It’s never clear how the wheels are going to weather the roads after a storm.”

“Another added to perk to Algernon,” said Cordelia.

“I’ll pretend you never said that and that you didn’t just use its given name. Matthew needs no further encouragement” said James and nudged her with his shoulder. “You know, Magnus owns this whole estate?”

“Really?” Cordelia looked across the narrow, feudal fields of rich red earth and verdant pasture sloping gently down from either side to form the shallow valley of the village, thinking how furious her father would have been to know that a Downworlder owned all of this. He hated the concept of massive estates. “That’s quite impressive.”

“He inherited it apparently. He owns everything— the pastures, the village, everything. Has done for nearly two centuries. Although he’s sold a lot of it in the past century or given it away, but he insists that the architecture be kept the same. That’s why some of the houses look sprung up from the colonies. Neo-Natalian, they call it, that flat-topped design. And that small cottage with the blue smoke coming out of the shoot”— he pointed down into the valley— “that’s his. Not too far to go. Are you alright?”

Cordelia tucked her hands into her coat pockets. “A little walking never bothered me. I would wonder around all over Tehran when I was a child. Alastair would grovel while I dragged him through the streets from one street merchant to the next.”

Squinting a little, Cordelia studied the westernmost end of the road, mentally comparing the earthy tones of England to the desert warmth of her homeland.

“I imagine it was beautiful,” said James.

“It was,” she said with a nod. “Though a different kind of beautiful than I imagine you’re accustomed to. The beauty lies inside of the city, with the people, the culture. It’s like every sense you have comes to life and you come to life. The air is so filled with spices and burning incense that you can taste it in your mouth. The language being spoken by neighbors sounded more like water trickling in a brook then the clumsy verbiage of English. Some streets were covered in rugs being woven and silks being beaded. It is its own piece of the world and could never be replicated.”

“You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered as if it were. “Almost everyday.”

“Almost?”

Cordelia carefully avoided another puddle. “As I’ve told you before,” she started as they merged back together. “I grew up very much alone. I didn’t speak the language well— English being my first language, and the children often poked fun at my clothes or the way that I spoke. I had Alastair, but well, we both know how he can be.”

They began the slow descent now into the valley, not more than ten yards distant from the small cottage with the blue smoke chimney. If she was going to have this conversation with James, then she needed to start it now. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened the other night. You have to understand that, there was once a time when Alastair and I— we were all each had in the world. And in that time, he protected me from a lot more than I realized and I don’t think he ever learned how to stop.”

“You don’t need to apologize for him, Cordelia,” said James. “As a brother myself, I understand perfectly well what he was doing and if a man had treated my sister the way that I treated you—even unknowingly— I would have flattened him to the gravel before he had a chance to speak. At least Alastair gave me a chance to explain myself before threatening to brazen me.”

Cordelia smiled. “He’ll probably never like you.”

James laughed and Cordelia’s heart responded to the sound. They’d come to the edge of the cottage’s property now, and the cottage seemed to be waiting for them.

“Then it’s a fine thing that it’s not his approval I seek,” said James, an eyebrow arched. “But I know he means a great deal to you.”

“He does,” she answered quietly.

She felt small in the shadow of the old cottage. The stone walls rose covered in a thin veil of moss and bright colored mushrooms. It was a narrow structure, hard and angular, save for the turret-like structure at one corner that probably sheltered a stairwell inside.

Reaching out, Cordelia ran her hand caressingly over the cold stones as they walked past. “Should we knock?” She asked, unsure how to approach the home of a high warlock— much less one with Magnus Bane’s social standing in the Shadowhunter community.

“Yes, I think so. He left specific instructions not to step on his azaleas,” said James, giving a flower bed full of the illusive purple flowers a wide berth.

He walked ahead of her towards the door tucked into the shadows of the wide porch. Cordelia’s trailing fingers snagged on something sharp, and she pulled her hand back, breaking contact with the stone wall.

“Curious,” said Cordelia, examining her finger tip where a small bead of blood now bloomed. “How does he get azaleas to grow this time of year.”

“I plant the bulbs in early winter,” said a voice from the porch, followed by a curl of smoke that drifted away into the air in the shape of a small white rabbit. “They freeze in the earth, then thaw in the summer, just in time for the rains to make everything moist. They’ll bloom until January.”

Magnus Bane emerged, resting his patched elbows on the porch banister. His eyes flickered, cat-like between the two shadow hunters on his lawn, and as a feline grin changed his face. “Come in,” he said, “it’s getting cold. And these hills are notorious gossips.”

Cordelia stepped through the front door, through the white-painted foray with the checkerboard floor. It smelled sharply of cut wood and coal dust and damp quarry tile.

“When I sent the letter, I expected to be invited back to your flat in London,” said James as he started unbuttoning his coat. “I hadn’t expected to be invited to the cottage. I haven’t been here since New Years of 99’ when you hosted that party.”

Magnus chuckled. “Yes, I faintly remember you and Matthew getting merry on spiced rum. One of you fell asleep in the antlers of my stag wall ornament.”

James blushed. “I have no recollection of that.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?” said Magnus. “It was very good spiced rum.”

James cleared his throat and quickly went to help Cordelia with her coat.

“Speaking of drinks, can I offer either of you something?” asked Magnus, lifting his hands towards the arched passageway into the kitchen. “I have fresh coffee, tea, biscuits, or a plate of chutney if you’re feeling peckish.”

Cordelia shrugged off her coat, and handed it off to James to hang beside his own. “I’ll take tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Magnus’s eyes flickered. “It’s not too much trouble at all.” Faint blue smoke curled from his fingertips as he snapped them. Cordelia heard the shuffling of glassware in the kitchen, but could not see who might be inside. “Follow me, we can sit in the front room with the fire so you can warm yourself.”

They followed the warlock through the arched walkway into the adjacent room. The large fireplace stacked with a glowing wood pile that crackled but didn’t seem to burn stood center against the forest green papered wall. A mural of Magnus sitting on a sofa with his ankles crossed and a gray cat in his lap hung over the gold painted mantle lined with fresh garland. Cordelia felt the texture of the floor change under her boots and looked down to notice the grand Persian rug underneath her feet. The style and design must have been over a hundred years old. She wanted to place her hands on it, to smell it, and see if there was anything left of its original home left on it, but resisted the strange urge by taking her seat in one of the wingback chairs that faced the fire.

James took his seat in the couple of her chair.

Magnus chose to stand beside the fireplace. “Your choice in correspondence has left me quite intrigued. It’s not often that one of your kind asks my permission before showing up at my doorstep. You either don’t want anyone to know you’re here or one of you has been raised with manners.”

“When have I ever just shown up at your doorstep?” asked James.

“Who said I was referring to you?” said Magnus, his eyes flickered to James’s wrist. “Aw, broken free from the manacle, I see. How did you manage it? Is that what this is about then?”

James gripped his wrist with his other hand. He glanced to Cordelia, probably weighing her reaction, and then back to Magnus. “We’re not here for me. It’s Cordelia.”

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. “Aw, the young miss Carstairs. You look much better since I last saw you. You seem to have recovered nicely since your rendezvous with the prince of hell.”

“I wouldn’t call it a rendezvous as much as an unsuccessful kidnapping,” said Cordelia and allowed the comfort of Cortana strapped to her back to fight off the memory of being held against her will. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t remember any of it. What if he’d done something unspeakable to her.

“Tell me what ails you and I will see if I can help,” said Magnus.

“When I woke from my coma,” said Cordelia, taking a deep breath, “its seems that I have forgotten everything after the moment I got into the carriage with my brother to go to Alicante. I don’t remember being attacked, I don’t remember Belial, and I don’t remember how I got back except for what Lucie and James have told me. We were hoping that you would be able to gain access to my memories to hopefully learn what we can about Belial and his plan.”

“Curious.” Magnus tipped his head and thought for a moment, seeking a reply. “But you did hit your head rather hard in the attack, did you not? It could just be that your brain became scrambled just a bit and you’ve only temporarily forgotten.”

Cordelia and James glanced at each other. “That might be so,” said James, “but if Belial disclosed any information about his plan on how to capture me as his host to Cordelia and erased her memories as she was escaping, then perhaps her memories are key to his defeat.”

“Perhaps.” He looked between the two of them. “Unfortunately for you, your very concerned parents have requested that if you were to come to me, I not assist you.”

Cordelia and James both dropped their shoulders in dejection.

“Fortunately for them,” started Magnus, “in assisting you, I am actually assisting them, which they also asked me to do.” He examined some dust on the mantle. “This is a tough decision.”

A silver tray topped with a simple white teapot and three cups drifted into the room and gently bumped into Magnus’s shoulder. Without looking, he waved it away. “None for me, thank you.”

Cordelia watched as the tray floated over to the elegant wooden table and sank down with a delicate rattle.

“Cream or sugar?” Magnus asked.

“Just cream,” requested Cordelia.

The pot and the milk jar lifted and poured simultaneously into an awaiting tea cup. Cordelia’s mouth gaped as she watched.

“You never fail to dazzle,” said James.

“I invented the word, boy,” grinned Magnus as the tea and cup soared to Cordelia’s awaiting hands. “And don’t you forget it. But, now, back to our predicament. No one else has tried to access these lost memories?”

Cordelia swallowed a mouthful of hot earl grey tea. “The Silent Brothers refused as my mind was still healing from the trauma. They fear it might cause irreversible damage.”

Magnus frowned. “They’re right. Playing with magic in someone’s mind is incredibly dangerous. Especially when it comes to memories. Just the slightest wrong touch and you could forget entirely who you are.”

The teacup rattled on the saucer in Cordelia’s hand. James reached over and placed a hand on her knee.

“You needn’t go through with it, Cordelia,” he said gently. “We’ll wait for the memories to return.”

“What if they don’t?” She reached forward to set her tea back on the table lest she spill it all over Magnus’s gorgeous rug or plush velvet arm chair. “Can you do it? Do you think you can access them without—“

Magnus studied his polished fingernails. “I can try, but despite what some might believe, there are no guarantees when it comes to magic.”

Cordelia glanced over at James beside her. He was already studying her face; his expression was gentle and considering. They’d come all this way and they’d gone through all of the trouble to lie to everyone and she had promised to help in any way that she could to defeat Belial. Still, she knew that if she decided she didn’t want to go through with it, he’d leave this cottage with her and they’d find another way.

But there was always a trust in everyone’s voices when they talked about the infamous Magnus Bane. She’d heard stories of his camaraderie and bravery with the Shadowhunter community for years. The other thing that could possibly match his style and class would be his power.  

“Let’s try,” she said with as much confidence as she could bear to muster.

“Cordelia,” James started. “Are you absolutely certain?”

“No,” said Cordelia, “but you trust him, do you not?”

“With my life,” said James.

Magnus grinned down at his suede boots, pretending not to be listening, or at least not to have any interest in the exchange.

“Then I trust him too. Besides,” she said as she leaned forward to pick up her teacup. “His magic makes a delicious cup of tea and if that’s any indication of his abilities, then I feel completely safe.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and the tray of tea disappeared from the table. He pointed to James next. “James, you lay that blanket over the table. Cordelia, lay on top.”

They did as they were instructed. James removed the tightly knit afghan from the back of the chair and over the coffee table with it. Cordelia sat and swung her legs over until she could recline back in a position that made her feel entirely too vulnerable.

Magnus rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and rubbed his hands together creating sparks between his palms. He came around the table and kneeled down behind Cordelia’s head.

James knelt beside her and offered her his hand. “Perhaps you’d rather wait in the library? This could take some time and may not be pleasant.”

James brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t have to go anywhere if you’d prefer me here.”

“Actually, it might be better if you left the room,” said Magnus. “It will give Cordelia a chance to speak more freely and I don’t need the concerned significant other hovering over my shoulder while I am trying to work in the delicate details of the human consciousness.”

Cordelia took his hand and squeezed it. “He’s right.”

James leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t be far.”

She nodded and reluctantly let his hand go as he stood.

Once James left the room, Cordelia felt the cool press of Magnus’s fingertips against her temple. “When you’re comfortable, close your eyes for me, Cordelia.”

After several deep breaths, Cordelia let her eyes close and focused her attention on the gentle rush of Magnus’s breath through his nose and the crackling of the fire wood.

“What’s the first thing that you remember from that night?”

Cordelia let the memories rush past her strangely warped and out of order. The first thing that came to mind was standing before James. “I said goodbye to James. I’d broken our engagement and was leaving London for Alicante with my brother.”

The warmth of the tears on her cheeks, the weight in her chest, the ache in her throat, she recalled all of it as if it were happening again. “I remember leaving James. I climbed into the carriage with Alastair. We started arguing. I told him of my plans to join the Iron Sisters when we returned to Alicante. He was so angry with me. He forbade me from doing it. He nearly turned the carriage around when we felt a jolt, as if we lost a wheel, and the carriage stopped.”

The picture in her mind started to become disfigured. Alastair stood in the darkness, a spear in his hands as he yelled something out to her.

“What was that?” Cordelia asked, pushing herself up to her knees.

“I’m not sure.” Alastair reached for the door. “Stay here. I’ll see what’s going on.”

“I’m coming with you.”

The memory started rippling apart like a stone thrown into still waters.

“Hold onto it, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “There’s a block on your memories, but fight through it.”

“Cyril!”

“Run, Miss Carstairs, run.”

The memory shuddered again.

Alastair stood in front of her with a spear in his right hand, held out in front of them ready to empale whatever or whomever came near. At some point, he had abandoned his waist coat and tie. His eyes danced sharply around them. “Draw Cortana, I believe we’re under—“

Then, there was blood everywhere, more blood than she thought she’d ever seen in her life. Head wounds bleed the worst, she told herself. It was fine. He would be fine.

“Cordelia.” More blood seeped from between Alastair’s lips, staining his teeth. “You— It wants—“

A sharp pain lanced through her ribcage, stealing her breath.

“It’s not real, Cordelia,” said Magnus. “It’s just a memory. Keep going.”

It was dark, that much Cordelia could tell, and it was cold. So cold the tips of her fingers ached. She was flat on her stomach, laying on something hard- stone possibly— that chilled her to her core. A dull, but intensifying pain, ached on the right side of her ribcage with every breath that she took. It was also the only part of her that felt inflamed with heat. Her lungs felt too full, the air scratched against the back of her throat as though she’d inhaled a mouth full of soot. She tried to cough, but nearly cried out from the pain in her ribcage.

Laughter echoed around her as she walked forward through the hazy dream. A figure stood in the distance. He was dressed much the same as the last time she’d seen him, in an all white tailored suit complete with black buttons that glistened like eyes- perhaps they were eyes. His pale gray hair swept across his face; in much the same way as James’s, but she would not allow herself to think about that.

Belial.

“What is it that you want from me?” asked Cordelia, the words shook on her lips.

Belial chucked, it echoed around them. “Nothing from you.”

“James.”

No. No that wasn’t right.

The memory focused on her Lucie, standing before her grandfather in full fighting gear.

Belial’s smile glowed in her memory.

Cordelia’s eyes flew open and she blinked up at Magnus and James starting down above her.

“Lucie,” said Cordelia as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “He wants Lucie.”

A/N: Thanks for waiting on the updates. I hope you guys enjoy this update. Magnus has always (and will always) be one of my favorite characters. I always have so much fun writing him. I hope I did him justice. Sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed (it was), but it was a lot of things we already know and Cordelia is just relearning. Leave me a comment, a like, and please reblog if you’re so inclined. Also, follow along for the next update coming on December 6. Stay safe and stay healthy!

[verilyruth]

Request/challenge: Some happy canon era Javid?

Jack knows that Davey doesn’t get a lot of time to himself. He’s constantly working or studying or taking care of his family. He sweeps aside his needs and desires for the sake of others. Jack wishes he could do something to help him see that he deserves to be taken care of too.

That’s why he’s been saving for the last three months. Every day, a quarter of his money went to the fund. Every night, he counts it again to make sure he has what he thinks he has.

It all started a few months before that when Davey began talking about the book he kept hearing about. Jack didn’t really understand any of the particulars of what he was talking about, but loved to hear Davey talk so he didn’t mind. He went on and on about motifs and themes and morals until Jack asked, “Have you read it already?” Davey shook his head sadly and told him that he was saving up for it, he just knew people who read it.

Jack sighs when he thinks about the next six weeks and how excited Davey was about it the whole time. Then he came to sell one morning and his demeanor was different. Sad, almost. When Jack asked, he put on a fake smile and said Les really needed a new coat that year.

Since then, Jack has been saving to buy Davey the book he hasn’t stopped talking about for almost five months. He times it just right and picks a day to give it to him a few weeks after Christmas and Chanukah, but a few weeks before his birthday so it can’t be misconstrued as a present for either one of those. It’s because Davey deserves it, not because it’s a special occasion or a holiday.

He climbs to the rooftop of the Jacobs’ tenement building, package in between his teeth, and peers over the top. Davey is there, as he normally is the evenings he has any time alone, and he’s reading an old book Jack has seen him read and reread a thousand times.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says after he’s taken the package out of his mouth.

Davey startles, but smiles wide when they make eye contact.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Reading. Hi, Jacky. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to have your company.”

Jack sits and pulls him into a quick kiss after he makes sure nobody else is around.

“I’m here to see you. I got you something.” He hands over the bundle of brown paper.

Davey looks at him quizzically with a half nervous, half excited smile.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

Davey is careful about everything he does and though Jack loves that about him, he’s impatient and it’s agony to wait for him to unwrap it with such precision rather than rip it open.

Davey gasps and Jack can tell he’s seen the cover.

“Jack…”

“Surprise? That’s the one you wanted, right? Chopin?”

“Jacky,” he says the word like it’s sacred, “you…how did…you did this for me?”

“Course. Who else would I do it for?”

Davey throws his arms around Jack’s neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says over and over.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“It is.” He’s obviously mesmerized as he runs his hand over the cover. Then, with a frown, he looks back up at Jack. “I can’t accept this.”

His world shatters.

“What? Why not?” Is he too late? Did Davey already buy it? Is he not interested in it anymore?

“It’s too expensive.”

“Is it the one you wanted?”

He nods. “Yes. Yes, it’s perfect, Jacky.”

“Then it ain’t too expensive.”

“No, I can’t let you–”

“Dave, it’s my money. Let me spend it how I want, okay?” There must be something in his tone that indicates how serious he is, because Davey stops right away.

“Thank you,” he breathes. “What’s this for?”

Jack shrugs. “You deserve it and I want you to be happy.”

Davey leans over and captures his lips in a wonderful, warm kiss that melts the patches of ice around them and puts sensation back in Jack’s freezing body. He feels Davey grinning against his mouth.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Are you happy?”

“So, so happy. But for the record, you always make me happy.”

He kisses Davey’s temple. “Right back at ya, sweetheart.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“That ain’t possible. Now come on, read to me.”

“Really?” He looks so excited that Jack thinks he might explode, too overwhelmed by how adorable Davey is.

“Yes! I want to hear a little of this.”

Davey leans against him and Jack opens his legs in a v for him to sit between. Nobody ever comes up there except for them and Sarah, so he isn’t worried. Davey smiles as he settles in, Jack’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you, Jacky. Seriously, thank you.”

“You deserve the world, Davey. There’s nobody who works harder or does more than you do.”

“That’s not–”

“Shh. I don’t care. I love you and I want you to have things you want. One day, I’m gonna be rich and famous.”

Davey laughs at their ongoing joke slash fantasy about their future.

“Shush,” he orders, pretending to be serious. Davey obviously doesn’t buy it and keeps laughing until Jack silences him with another kiss.

“I’m gonna be rich and famous and you can buy as many books as you want. You’re gonna have the biggest library in the world and it’ll be in the mansion I buy for you.”

“For me? Where are you in all this?”

“I’m there with you, painting you as you read and wrapped around you at night.”

Davey turns and kisses his jaw.

“I like that idea.”

“Me too.”

“You know,” he says, voice thick, “this is the first book I’ve had that’s mine. The other books we have were my parents and now we share them and that’s great, I like sharing books but this…having a book of my own that isn’t a school book…”

“It’s the beginning of your library. Read it to me?”

Davey nods. “The Awakening, by Kate Chopin, Chapter One. ‘A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door…’”

[sp00kworm]

Withered Leather (Vergil Sparda x Reader)

The leather was beginning to crack. Vergil blew air out in a stream as he ran a finger over the cracked spine of the book. Poetry was his pastime when he was younger, reading words upon words of the craft before he’d cast is aside. To feel was to be weak. Or so he had told himself for many years. He curled a perfect nail into the crack and dug a little, feeling the rot beginning to set into the glue and paper underneath. It was old now, the book stashed away inside their crumbling childhood home, only for his human counterpart to find and resurface. V was gone. Inside of him, part of him, but gone nonetheless. He was outraged at how much of him was human in the end. His enjoyment, and his drive, still lived within the man he had separated from himself. V had fought to reunite himself with the demon half. Urizen. Vergil had a concoction of memories in his head, from both sides. V fondness for the humans, and his brother, then also the burning hatred that came with Urizen. Vergil was whole with the both of them, but their conflicting views at least settled into a firm peace.

 Vergil peered at the van ceiling, nose curling at the odd stain over his head, teeth flashing when the door was pounded on.

“Vergie!” Dante cooed from behind the window, hands cupped around his eyes as he peered into the van, grinning at Vergil’s sprawled out form over the small couch. He clicked the blade of Yamato from its sheath and wondered how Dante’s blood would look splattered on the glass. The temptation to drive the sword through it and add another point to his hit count was tempting. Tempting but foolish. They were out in the middle of the countryside for a reason, even if he had no desire to move from the small seat he had stretched over. Dante’s grin made him sneer, scoffing as he rolled back on his bottom, sitting up in the van, Yamato held between his hands, the sword pressed to the floor, leaning his weight against it as the door slammed open. Dante grinned through the doorway, saluting as he trogged blood and muck into the van. Nico span around from the driver’s seat, cigarette between her lips as she screamed at him to get out.

“Hey hey, calm down!” Dante held his hands up defensively, leaning back out of the van before signalling for Vergil to come to him instead. The elder twin ignored Nico’s squawking.

“Dante! I only promised to drive you two muscle heads out ‘ere if ya’ would pay me! Mucking up ma van wasn’t in that deal!” She pointed at him threateningly before taking a drag from her cigarette and slamming the van door closed, “Ya can come in when you hose yourself free of Impusa guts!”

Dante rolled his eyes before shrugging and laughing, shaking his hair, which miraculously, remained a perfect silvery white.

Vergil stood, coat rippling as he sniffed and placed his sword in front of him, leaning against it, “Did you find the lead?” He asked coolly, nose turning at the smell of devil guts plastered to Dante’s coat.

“Oh, I get it. No ‘How are you Dante?’, just straight to the cut. I’m wounded, brother, really.” He sighed and shook the ends of his coat, slapping Impusa blood onto the stone pavement, “And, for your information, I did, find the contact that is.”

“Then why am I here, Dante?” Vergil sneered, eyes glancing at the run-down cottages set back from the lane.

Dante chuckled, “I wouldn’t bring you here to just leave you in the van. Take another whiff of the air by that gate.” He leaned against the side of the van and cursed as he smeared blood against the tanned metal.

 “DANTE! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL TAKE BACK THAT LAUNCHER IF YOU’VE SMEARED GUTS OVER HER NEW PAINT JOB!”

 Vergil ignored the spat, snatching Yamato by the sheath as he moved over to the edge of the graveyard Dante had pointed to. The church was crumbling, old and in need of knocking down correctly. He leaned over at the waist and sniffed, fingers curling over the edge of the iron fence as he closed his eyes, silver lashes sitting on top of his cheeks. Inhaling, he tasted the fresh air on the back of his tongue before tasting something rotten. Rotten but hidden behind a perfume of allure. Jasmine and Frankincense. It was a powerful smell and he shook his head, snapping his head away from the fence with a growl, peering to look for a demon plant spewing pollen.

“Dante.” He growled as he marched from the graveyard, “Was it your intention to trap me in an allure spell?” He snapped the sheath of Yamato forwards and Dante grunted softly, catching it before it could slam into his gut.

“Nope. Well…It would have made this job a little easier if you had. Could have just followed you straight to the succubus that’s been growing fat on blood.” Dante grumbled, tossing Yamato backwards before rolling his shoulders, “Brother dearest,” He announced with a flourish of his arms, “I brought you here to hunt a Succubus!” He posed by the gate and laughed at the annoyance on Vergil’s face.

 “Is it really that much of an issue? If the devil is hiding, its too weak to even cast a proper allure spell.” Vergil pulled his hair backwards and looked at the large mausoleums in the back of the yard. One of them lead to the creature that was weakly snatching men from the village. He was already growing bored and turned to the van to snatch his book from the seat, tucking it into the inside pocket of his coat, ensuring it wouldn’t get lost. He could mend the spine when they were on their way back to the shop, hopefully when Dante had fallen asleep.

Dante rolled his eyes, “Whether it’s doing shit or not isn’t the issue. The village want it dead for stealing a few boys and men the past couple of days. There’s some rich guy too that wants his son back.” He rubbed his fingers together and walked into the yard, taking a whiff of the spell like it wasn’t meant to make men swoon.

“His son is dead.” Vergil spat as he stepped into the graveyard, Yamato held by his side. The smell was putrid and offensive, but he walked along the path behind Dante, who seemed all too happy to breathe in whatever bodies were rotting by this creature.

“Even if he’s dead, we’ll get a handsome little reward for killing it and the nest its gathered.” Dante kicked over a tombstone and watched as the ground underneath it crumbled downwards, quickly dashing over the ground and grappling himself upwards with the tree roots. Vergil stepped back three steps and watched as the sunlight poured down on what was the beginning of a deep underground nest.

 Dante groaned as he hauled himself back up, standing over the edge with a smirk as he spotted several fat Impusa. They hissed as they peered upwards, the light burning their darkness adjusted eyes. Dante grinned and drew his blade as he dove into the fight, sword flashing with crackling red energy as he sliced three Impusa in half, running at a speed that only Devil eyes could follow. Vergil watched the fight, bored, before looking around the spell ridden graveyard, his eyes looking to the large family tombs again. He hummed as he walked away from Dante, leaving him to his boringly easy fight as he walked towards the stone. They were listed with entire families on the front, the family surname in time consuming cursive in the stone. It must have taken a craftsman some time to carve all the individual letters in such a fashion. Vergil rolled his eyes as Dante gave a great roar of his style. Why on earth the male thought it was cool to announce everything he did, Vergil didn’t know. When he’d asked Dante about it, he either feigned ignorance, or genuinely didn’t know he was announcing himself in such a way. The half-devil hummed as he stepped between two stones, feeling the tension of some sort of grave trap. There was probably some sort of vine creature waiting in it to chew on him.

 His boots clicked on the stone as he hopped over a snapping tendril, sword flashing out and returning. The green tentacle wiggled on the flagstone, spewing dark red blood before twitching and going still. With a breath, Vergil spread his stance and drew the Yamato, feeling the ground rumble under his boots. His coat flared as he exploded upwards, the jaws of the trap creature snapping at the stone balanced on top of it’s fat, flat snout. Vergil flourished the Yamato, snapping at the vicious tentacles aiming for his head. He took a breath and sprung backwards, hands twisting on the handle, sending slicing high velocity energy at the tentacles before slicing through the stone, a burst of energy behind his step as he hurtled at the devil’s top jaw. He turned the Yamato with a growl, splitting the flat snout and nose open with a spray of blood before flipping again and dragging the edge of the blade deeper through the creature’s head, splitting the bone and brains open over the flagstone. The devil screamed, scales pinging off against the stone as it collapsed over the tombs, two tongues laid against the ground, blood gushing from its head.

 “Pathetic.” Vergil snapped the Yamato in his grasp, blood spraying up the stone as he cleaned it and slid it back into its sheath. Dante was still roaring inside of the hive, and Vergil turned his head with a sneer at the rev of a motorcycle engine.

“He’s taking too long with a simple Impusa nest.” Vergil complained to himself as he stepped over a crack in the path, looking at the family memorials with mild interest.

The sound of crayon on paper made him scowl even deeper. One of the tombs was open. The elder twin placed a thumb beneath the handle of Yamato as he stepped into the light filtering into the mausoleum. A human was curled over the top of one of the intricate stone tops to the resting places, paper pinned over the print and a black crayon in her hand, concentrating on ensuring the details of the casket were captured as well as they could be. A camera hung from her neck and a satchel over her shoulder made Vergil tilt his head.

 You scowled at the lack of light over what you were trying to take a print of. The stone was old but the name engraved was of interest. They weren’t documented as part of the family in the texts you had already read. You took the paper away and noted the name and dates in the corner with a click of your tongue.

“You are either ignorant or foolish to ignore me stood here.” A calm voice broke through the silence you had settled over yourself in the little tomb.

“Jesus Christ!” You jumped, paper crimping at the corner from where your fist clenched around it, “What is wrong with you?”

The male stood in the doorway, illuminated by a halo of light, sneered, clicking his tongue as he took the two small steps down into the family tomb, “You are the one so engaged in your work that you failed to notice a threat. If I were a devil, you would be dead.”

As he stepped down into the tomb, you took note of his features. A sharp jaw was accentuated by slicked back silver hair, the points flaring behind his head as he moved further into the cool tomb. He was tall and broad, cloaked in a heavy dark coat, blue waistcoat littered with silver accents. He was almost entirely in shades of blue, and the trousers were perhaps too tight, his thighs stretching the material a little more than necessary. It was then that you noticed the pretty sword in his hand, the sheath covered in beautiful blue and white flowers, the hilt wrapped with expensive leather and metal.

 “Wait...” You pointed at the sword in his grasp, “Devils? Wait, why the fuck do you have a sword in a cemetery?” The question made his scowl worsen. If he smiled, he’d probably look more attractive. It was a thought quickly shot down as he twisted the blade in his grasp.

“Surely you know about the nest? You are an idiot and a fool for coming here if so. You could easily be dragged under the creature’s spell.” He paused then sighed, “It really does just want males then. If you are fine, then this beast truly is fickle and weak.” The rambling stopped as the man frowned, lips poured before he took you by the arm.

“Hey Mister Bitchface, let go!” You dragged your arm away from him, but his grasp was iron clad, dragging you up the steps of the mausoleum, paper and pencils flying as you grabbed at your notes with a growl.

“If you wish to stay and rot with the corpses of the town’s men, then be my guest.” The man spat before letting you snatch back your arm, his fingers scooping the single strand of hair, that had fallen, back into its slicked back place.

 “Maybe I’d be more inclined to follow you if I had a name!” The tone made the tall man growl again, his eyes flashing a crisper blue, anger evident around the creases in his eyes.

“Vergil! My name is Vergil, now come! Before you are swallowed by some other trap creating devil.” He hissed before pressing his hand to the base of your spine, eyes looking around the deathly quiet graveyard as he led you away from the tombs and back towards a great hole that had opened. The ping of bullets sounded off the rocks and Vergil stood at the rim, hands resting on his sword as he waited for Dante to finish with his playing.

“Where the fuck did this come from?” You stood behind the man, mouth open as you dared to peer down, “Oh god those are Devils! Vergil, we’ve got to go!” You reached for him only to receive a glare. Vergil twitched away from your grasp with a sneer.

“Devils that are barely a threat. Just wait.” The man waited, coat billowing as he sunk down, crouched at the edge, leather gloves ringing at his gloves, a smirk on his face.

 There was a great howl.

 “Uh. What the fuck was that?” You dared to inch closer to Vergil. He was grinning now as the ground thundered under your feet.

“The beast is here.” Vergil pressed a thumb to the top of his blade as a man in red was sent flying upwards out of the hole. He went with a great scream, spinning in the air, leather coat flapping until he span, swinging his legs, rotating in an amazing display of dexterity, before landing by the trees, his foot slamming through a grave as he landed.

“Ah...shit.” The red male swore, rubbing at his stubbly chin as he shifted his booted foot from the rocks, “Sorry pal, shit happens. Hope you don’t come to haunt me or anything.”

Vergil ignored him, staring into the hole as the ground rumbled. The red male sauntered over and smirked, placing a blood slicked hand on the other’s shoulder. He was promptly shrugged off, Vergil reached for a handkerchief to wipe away the mess.

“So prickly, Vergil.” He teased.

“Did you kill it, Dante?” Vergil asked with a sharp look.

 The ground exploded a way away from the two of them, and you gasped. Dante reached for the sword on his back, “What the fuck do you think, Verg?”

“You failed, evidently.” Vergil snorted, standing up to face the creature that had rushed from the ground. The Succubus was hardly gorgeous, its insectoid body quivering, scaley wings spread and clawed feet clenching. Its breasts bounced before a mouth opened between them, snapping with rows of sharp teeth. Its face was humanoid, hair made of vines, snapping as she landed, legs shedding feathers as she screamed, scent firing into the air. The two men drew out handkerchiefs and covered their faces. You gasped and covered your nose, reaching for the surgical mask you carried for those old, spore filled tombs. Vergil glanced over his shoulder, nodding when you had already covered your mouth, holding his long beautiful sword close.

“Hey babe.” Dante gave you a wink, “You think you can run?”

“What?” You gasped as Vergil dashed backwards, hands outstretched, snatching you mid-stride as the Succubus screamed, clawed paws slamming into the dirt, vines bursting to produce great fungal flowers. Vergil grabbed you by the waist as Dante sprinted behind him, huffing, sword dragging in the dirt as the Succubus flapped its wings, abdomen quivering as it shot acid and more scent into the air.

 Vergil growled behind his handkerchief, “What did you do to it, Dante?”

Dante rubbed at his hair, blood smearing through the white strands, “Oh I don’t know. Killed its nest, cut off one of its legs!” He jumped over a tomb stone before rushing to face the demon, long sword gleaming with red, violent power. Dante twirled, slicing a thick column of vines with a blade of flying energy before rushing upwards with a burst of speed. You looked from Vergil’s shoulder in awe as he burst into light, form twisting and covering in scales, flames roaring in his chest as he launched himself like a bomb, screeching through the air, sword slicing with amazing power.

“What the fuck are you two?!” You slapped a hand repeatedly against Vergil’s powerful shoulder.

“Half devils.” He answered nonchalantly as he shoved off from the ground, sword slicing at a flying rock as he landed up on the surrounding cliff. The man placed you down on the ground with a grunt before turning to join the fray, coat flapping, “Sons of Sparda if its that important to you.” He rolled his shoulders and dropped off the edge of the rock face, hair flying and coat flapping as he landed. Light blue light poured from him as he jumped, clawed, bird like feet appearing. The rest of his form followed, blue fire streaming from his hair as horns grew and his arms grew great attached wings. Like a Wyrm of legend. You watched with an open mouth as he soared upwards and crashed downwards, sword slicing with a great crack of thunder.

 The Succubus reared and roared to the heavens again, mouth spraying blood and acid as she grasped for the two sons. An arm was laid in the grass, bleeding red, black marrow leaking from it. Her leg followed it and she hobbled to catch Dante’s sword in her grasp, twisting the blade at the expense of her fingers. The two claws thumped against the floor, and Vergil roared with a mouth full of teeth, rushing forwards with a detached brutality, his sword diving deep, gauging at the Succubus’ abdomen. She reared on her leg, pulling the blue devil closer to her snapping chest-mouth. The teeth dripped spittle onto Vergil’s horns and he growled as it dripped down his scales, eyes burning as he looked for Dante.

“DANTE!” His gruff baritone howled, “Finish her!” He roared as her weight pushed on him heavily, the claws of his winged arms slamming into the rock to push back against the devil’s over-bearing weight.

Dante appeared in a streak of fire, his mouth open, spewing fire as he moved with his massive sword. The devil rushed upwards, splitting the demon from belly to head, slicing her mouth open fully. A great scream sounded, and the two devils rushed away as her abdomen wobbled.

 A blue scaled form rushed up the cliff face, red following it as a terrifying face snatched you again, wings folding around you. The Succubus’ abdomen exploded with a great spray of acid. Vergil wrapped your body tight with his own, his brother leaned against you both, his own scaled wings spread wide to cover you both again. The acid erupted in a great spray, raining down in a harsh slap of fluid over the area. The cliff was sprayed with it and you heard the two demons hiss as the fluid sprayed down their scaled backs. It dripped downwards and you felt the males stand, leaving you curled on the floor. The grass sizzled around you as you looked at the destruction. The graves were melting under the acrid hose down, and you felt saddened as the trees groaned, bark peeling and chipping away with the poison. Vergil flexed his arms as Dante spread his wings, the two stretching out in front of one another as acid dripped from their backs and wings. They were unharmed by it, but both took a skydive from the cliff, twisting in rapid spins to remove the last of the toxin. The rapid spinning made you dizzy by just watching. You peered away and gathered your notebooks and charcoals, stuffing pages back into your book as you stood in the only living patch of grass.

 The two devils roared at the bottom of the cliff and you swallowed, pulling your bag closer before you were faced with Vergil.

 “Intending on running off, were you?” He snarked, clutching his sword tight, looking completely human once more. Behind you a thump sounded before a hot hand rested on your shoulder. Dante sighed behind you, spinning you with a gentle pressure.

“Ignore him. He’s an ass at the best of times.” Dante smirked at his brother’s scoff, “How about we give you a ride back into town? Our ride is parked not too far out.” He offered kindly with a smile that could melt the iciest of hearts. Except maybe his brothers. That seemed to be ice cold, you remarked sourly as you nodded.

“That would be great, thank you.” You smiled back at the red covered twin before following him down towards the path along the cliffs.

“Your welcome, babe. Now tell me, why the fuck were you out here chilling in an abandoned graveyard?” He gave you a look with a smirk as you opened your notebook.

“I was looking into a family tree. There was something fishy about their records. Turns out the man probably had a few bastards in his lineage. I was just taking prints of the names from the tombs.” You smiled, “I do a lot of family history work around the area, but this one might be a bit of a hobby at this point.”

 Dante nodded, looking at the notebook in your hands with mild interest. Both of you ignored the furious elder twin to your right. His eyes however, followed your finger over the pages, admiring your cursive and your meticulous notes alongside the prints of names and dates of death. Macabre but you seemed to take great pride in it all. He had a certain amount of respect for you because of that. His eyes wandered upwards, and Vergil caught himself as his icy gaze lingered on your face for a little too long. He scoffed under his breath at Dante’s commentary of the pages, looking out at the rotting graveyard as you chuckled next to him.

“It’s Don Vacile, Dante.” He grumbled, looking back at his younger brother sharply as the two of you smirked at him. He didn’t like that Dante’s crass attitude was already spoiling you.

“Vergil is right, Dante.” You teased as you closed your notebook. Vergil felt a swell of pride at winning one over his younger brother.

Dante blew a raspberry before rolling his shoulders, “Vergil is never wrong. But Vergil never gets laid.”

Vergil shot a look of fire at his brother, “Who’s the one with the son, brother?” His smile was tight lipped and poisonous.

“Someone’s who couldn’t wrap it up.”

You choked on your own spit laughing at the two of them as you made your way back to the van they had arrived in.

 After that day, you saw very little of the twins. Their streaking figures were on the news at times, huge scaly demon forms tearing apart some new threat as the tv crew struggled to follow them. Dante had winked at the camera once as he flew by. It was all very strange. They’d only asked that you tell no one about what you saw, but who would believe you? The city was quick to forget tragedies and the sleepy unaffected towns never saw it. You sat in your cottage and watched the news and days roll by, wondering if you would ever see the two oddballs again. It didn’t seem likely in your profession.

 A knock on the door one frosty morning confused you. You had a meeting in the next city for a family tree trace, but that wasn’t for another three hours. It was barely morning, the sun having just peaked through the fog to try and warm the air. You wrapped your gown a little tighter and unlocked the door and latches, looking outside with a shudder.

“Good morning.” Vergil uttered into the cold air, unchanged and wrapped in the same intricate coat he was in last time, minus the stains of blood from Dante’s careless hands.

Your mouth hung open for a moment, looking into the man’s icy eyes, looking up at his slicked back hair, the spikes unwavering in the chill, “Uhhhh.”

“Are you merely going to gawk, or can I come in?” Vergil gave a haughty roll of his shoulders, “I…I have something to ask of you.”

“Sure. Sorry, I just didn’t expect to ever see you again, let alone on my doorstep.” You let him in through the door and closed it behind him, rushing to go and fetch him a drink as he looked around your small home, ducking under the low beams before stepping down into the living room and taking an uneasy seat on your sofa.

 A tea made him smiley loosely, the edge of his lip quirking before he sipped and coughed, trying his best to dispel the awkwardness he had dragged in with him.

“I…” He paused and sighed, “I am not good with words. I enjoy poetry yes, but I cannot wax words like the greats. I know you are wondering why I am here, and I will tell you.”

The constipated look on his face did not help his case.

“I would like for us to speak more.” That was his simple statement.

“If you really just came around to my house at seven am, to tell me that, then you better come up with a better excuse and quick.” You threatened behind your mug.

Vergil looked caught off guard, “I…” He paused again, “I would like to speak to you in a romantic setting.” He confessed; his eyes guarded yet steeled.

“So, like a date?”

Vergil seemed to grumble at the term, “I suppose courting would be the logical conclusion yes.”

Your brain fried for a moment. His attitude was no different, yet he held your gaze with determined ferocity.

 A chuckle made him flinch, ready to accept defeat and humiliation as second best once more.

 You took his hand and didn’t flinch at the burning of his fingertips. He gasped and held his breath quietly as you leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Sure thing, Vergil.” You pulled away from him and shook your head, “But can it be later? I have to go to work like a normal person soon.”

He nodded stiffly before feeling heat colour his cheeks as you stood and moved up the stairs. On the fifth step you leaned over the bannister and smiled, “Pick me up at eight, Sparda, and then we’ll see if you’re worthy of this considering your attitude.”

Vergil smiled, the insult brushed away as he watched you go up the stairs, the doorknob in his hand, “Eight it is, my dear.”

 As he sauntered out the door, he pulled his poetry book free and pressed his fingers into the cracks and grooves of the leather, remind himself to once again, patch them up.

[willowandfog]

InuKag Week 2020

Please see tags for all trigger warnings! This is one continual story for the week. 

Summary: Kagome is diagnosed with a serious disease.

FFN or AO3

Chapter 1: Acceptance

Kagome sat on the bed in the emergency room, Inuyasha could smell her anxiety. Her fingers were picking at the hem of her gown, trying to hide that her hands were shaking, but he knew better. He paced anxiously beside her bed, constantly running his hands through his hair. Trying not to think about what else could possibly be going wrong after everything they’d already been going through. 

Earlier they had just sat down and cuddled up together in a corner of the couch. With bowls of ice cream in hand they were ready to watch their traditional Saturday night movie. But when Kagome suddenly dropped her bowl and started seizing right there in his lap, Inuyasha felt his heart crack. She’d been doing so much better. He had just made sure that she didn’t throw herself from the couch; waiting it out, before packing her up in the car and driving to the hospital. 

They had been waiting for hours for the doctor to come back, she’d been emitted quickly, and had undergone a few tests. Inuyasha knew they were waiting on the bloodwork, usually that sort of thing would take over a day. But with the recent advancements in healthcare from demon studies, facilities had been able to cut wait times dramatically. 

When the door to the small emergency room finally opened Inuyasha breathed out a sigh of relief. He moved over to stand by Kagome’s bed, taking one of her hands in his own. It was quivering slightly, and he tried to not let his frown show as he gave it a little squeeze. Through the door walked Kagome’s doctor, the same doctor that she had been seeing since this began four months ago. Dr Kyoda was a short, older woman; slightly plump from age, and had long, graying hair that was pulled back. She wore navy blue scrubs and a long white coat over top, and comfortable, black sneakers adorned her feet, squeaking slightly on the tile floor. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting so long Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi.” Dr. Kyoda muttered to them but her attention was on the medical file in her hand. Closing the door behind her, she shut the file, sighing. Looking up at them, she took a step forward to place a hand on Kagome’s blanket covered leg. “How are you feeling after your seizure?” She questioned, a small concerned smile on her face. The doctor had always had a caring, grandmotherly affection for Kagome, something Inuyasha had always appreciated. 

Kagome gave Inuyasha’s hand a little return squeeze, moving her other hand to spin the black tungsten ring on his finger, something she did when she was nervous or needed comfort. “I’m feeling ok now. Do you know what caused it?” Her chocolate-colored eyes flicked up to meet Inuyasha’s pools of amber before turning back to Dr. Kyoda. 

“Yes.” The doctor hesitated, her eyes flickering to meet Inuyasha’s before they returned to Kagome and she continued. “Your blood tests show that your markers have skyrocketed. The chemo doesn’t seem to have slowed your progression. The cancer appears to be spreading at an alarming rate. With the scans we did earlier, we can see that a tumor has formed in your brain, which is what caused your seizure.”

Inuyasha’s jaw clenched tightly, his teeth grinding. How could she be getting worse? This is wrong, a mistake. She’s been better, doing fine.

“Ar-are you sure?” He heard his wife’s voice wavering slightly. 

“I’m sorry Kagome.” The doctor’s voice was soft. “I know we’ve been fighting this for a little while now, but the scans and the bloodwork both confirm the same thing.” Dr. Kyoda’s eyes moved to meet Inuyasha’s again. “Some of the other Oncologists I’ve consulted about your case have said they felt that had we caught and started treatment even a week sooner that it’s possible you would be in remission by now.”

Inuyasha, carefully monitoring Kagome’s expressions, trying to gauge how she was handling the news, observed her blanch at the statement. Feeling her whole body tense he questioned her quietly, “Kagome?” He leaned down closer to her face. “Kagome, you feeling ok?” He moved to press the back of his free hand to her cheek, then forehead. “Kagome?” He prodded again when she didn’t respond.

She shook her head a little, coming out of her daze. “Yeah.” The whisper was so quiet that only Inuyasha’s sensitive demon ears picked it up. She looked and met his eyes. She gave him a warm smile. “I’m ok, thank you.” She spoke a little louder, sounding more sure of herself. 

“Kagome.” Dr. Kyoda spoke softly, drawing Kagome’s attention back to her. “I would say at your rate of decline, you have maybe two weeks left.”

“That can’t be right, she’s been doing a lot better.” Inuyasha spoke coldly, turning his eyes to the doctor. “Run the tests again.” He demanded.

“Mr. Takah-”

“I don’t care.” He interrupted. “We’re paying for the tests and we want you to run them again.” His voice was stern, but when he felt another squeeze from Kagome’s hand, he spoke again with a little less hostility. “Please, we need you to run the tests again. We have to be sure.”

Dr. Kyoda nodded. “I’ll schedule another scan and send the nurse in for another blood sample. I’ll be back after we get the new results.” She gently patted Kagome’s leg again before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her.

When Dr. Kyoda came back a few hours later, the results were the same. Kagome was declining and didn’t have a lot of time left. The doctor had spouted out their limited options to half-deaf ears. She informed them that she would give them some time to make their decision, and when they were ready to let a nurse know to page her. 

Inuyasha slumped down into the chair next to Kagome’s bed. Dropping his head into his hands, trying not let his anger overwhelm him. 

“Inuyasha.” Kagome’s voice was soft and sweet. “Inuyasha.” She repeated when he didn’t look up. 

Inuyasha was clouded by his own thoughts, her words not penetrating through. Fifteen years together and I’m gonna lose her. We haven’t even started our lives together and she’s being taken away. What did I do to deserve this? What has she done? She deserves better than this; she’s too good for this world and it’s trying to toss her out of it.

When a hand gently touched his shoulder, he jumped in his seat, head jerking up. “Kagome?” He questioned, studying her as she leaned out of her bed to reach out to him. 

“Inuyasha.” She said in her sweet voice yet again. “What’s wrong? Everything will be ok, you’ll make it through this. We’ll make it through this.” She said with emphasis. 

He jumped from his chair, furious, hands balling into fists. “What is wrong with you?!” He shouted. “This isn’t ok, things won’t be ok. Everything is over, our life together is over. All of our time together, and I can do nothing! What am I supposed to do?” He glared at her. “How is this ok with you?”

Kagome studied him for a moment, taking his hand to try to uncurl his clenched fist.  “This isn’t ok with me. This is a really crappy situation, but I have faith that everything will turn out ok.” She smiled weakly at him. 

His anger deflated. What?

He studied her face, trying to see and figure out what she was thinking. Did she really think everything would be ok, did she think this was no big deal? Then he finally understood.

She doesn’t think this is real. When has it ever been easy for someone to accept that they are dying?

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of her bed. Putting his arm around her shoulders he pulled her close to his chest. “Kagome, darling.” He spoke delicately. “I love you, I will always love you. And I will be here for you always.” He twisted his head to look at her. “This is real. You're sick and you aren’t getting better.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I think we should discuss the options.” He swallowed at the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. “Where we go from here.”

Kagome’s body felt tense, cool, and fragile. Sitting in silence for a time, Inuyasha held onto his wife, too many thoughts flowing to keep track of. 

When her shoulders started to shake he turned towards her a little more. He caught sight of the tears streaming down her face before her hands came up to hide her face. Her sobs were now wracking through her whole body. He bit on his bottom lip trying to push his own tears down. When he tried to pull her closer, she turned and buried her face into his chest, her hot tears soaking his shirt.

——————————————

After trying to rest some and spending the rest of the night in the emergency room, Inuyasha was finally able to take Kagome to the room the hospital had prepped for her. He studied her face as he pushed her wheelchair into her new room. She had been nervous about being moved to the hospice wing. She had agreed without complaint after he had reassured her that he had checked it out and asked around about it. It really was a nicer set up over here, and she could get more of the personal attention she needed and deserved from the doctors. He paused in the middle of the room, letting her take it all in. 

There was a large comfortable looking hospital bed centered against one wall, strategically placed near the windows for an easy view of the wonderful sites outside. This side of the hospital had an amazing ocean view, the sands a light tan and the clear waves bringing in wave after wave. There was a single fogged glass sliding door that led to the bathroom area. A black leather pull-out couch had been placed under the windows. He had made sure her room would include this little feature. He would hate to have slept on the floor for the next few weeks, and he refused to go home. There was a huge flat screen TV across from the bed, hanging from a light gray painted wall, not the typical stark, blinding white of a normal hospital room. A small nurses’ cart was near the bed, a monitor attached to the top for easy recording of vitals during the occasional nurse visits. 

As he locked the wheelchair tires, he crouched down beside her chair, looking up to study her. A small frown and concern on his face as he reached a hand up, tucking a lock of her raven hair that had escaped from her silk bandanna behind her ear. “Does this look ok?” He asked quietly, gesturing to the room. 

Her tired eyes flicked all around the room, taking in every surface quickly. She turned to face him, raising a small hand to tenderly cradle his cheek. “It’s fine, dear. It’s just another hospital room. As long as you’re here, it’s perfect.” She gave him a weak smile, dropping her hand from his face.

He caught her wrist as it fell, he turned it over and pressed a tender kiss to her palm, returning her smile. “I love you.” He spoke confidently.

Her smile was stronger and more genuine this time. “I love you too, Yashie.”

He rolled his eyes at the use of the old nickname. He stood from his crouching position and placed a light kiss on her forehead. “Do you need the restroom before we get you into bed?” He asked, knowing her seizure had made walking a little more difficult for her. She shook her head in response. Reaching down he scooped her out of the chair, frowning at how much lighter she seemed now than a few months ago. He carried her bridal style over to the bed, gently placing her on the surface before helping her scoot the blankets out from under her to cover her with. “So everyone asked to come see you today. I told them it was ok. I asked Sango and Miroku to swing by the house and grab some things.” When she raised a questioning brow at him, he elaborated. “I figured we could use some comforts from home. Blankets, photos, better pillows, things like that. Aaaaaand of course the necessities, extra clothes, toothbrush, that stuff.” He chuckled at her smile.

“That would be nice, thank you.” He went to fold up the chair, placing it in an unused corner as she continued. “We should probably ask the lawyer to come before everyone gets here, I just wanna get that over with.”  

Inuyasha met her eyes with understanding, smirking at the fact that she still called Sesshomaru ‘the lawyer’ when she meant business. He ran his hand through his hair as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to call his brother, hesitating when she began speaking again. 

“Could you also call mom and ask her if she’ll bring Rin with her later? I could use some Dinosaur time.” He smiled at the nickname she had granted to the young Rin ever since her obsession with dinosaurs had started the year before. A small tear slipped down her cheek, sadness painted all over her face as she worried her lip.

He moved and wiped the tear from her face. “Of course.” With another quick kiss to her forehead, he left the room to make his calls, not wanting her to see his own tears filling his eyes. 

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Two: Homecoming

Masterlist is being made and will be available soon!

Chapter Two: Homecoming

Note: A warm welcome back to everyone who's returning for book two! It was great to talk to so many of you again! If you're a new reader, I recommend that you read Soliloquy first so that you have the proper context for this story, but either way, welcome! Nice to meet you! I hope to say hi sometime in the comments! Now on to chapter two!

-~-

In the seven weeks since the Redgrave City calamity, the local news stations had struck a collective balance between bated silence, unintentional misinformation, and useless conjecture. No one in the general public really knew anything meaningful about the events that had taken place in that forsaken city except for a handful of ground zero survivors, and most of them had stayed surprisingly tight lipped about the ordeal as a whole, knowing little about the events that took place after they had fled to safety. A few had come forward to thank the mysterious white haired vigilante in the black coat that had been rumored to have stalked the streets at all hours during the month long siege in what seemed to be an attempt to help stem the tide of demonic activity, but reports were conflicted to say the least. Most couldn't decide if he -or she- possessed black or white hair, some were unsure as to if they had been working with or against the demons as they claimed that they had commanded several themselves, and several others claimed to have been saved from attacking demons by them and told to flee town while they still could. A few even speculated that perhaps this individual could be a demon themselves, though they all seemed to come to the conclusion that they didn't care all that much and they were simply happy to be alive and eternally grateful to whoever the person had been that had saved their lives. 

Graffiti on abandoned city walls told horrifying stories of desperation and fear, while some even depicted what some had thought to be their savior in an indirect attempt to thank them. But the vast majority of the outside world would never see these works of art in person. The entire city aside from the very outskirts on the north side had been claimed by the government and a perimeter was in the process of being erected. They wanted to study it and try to figure out a concrete answer as to what had led to this horrible tragedy so that they could try to combat it effectively in the future, but it was slow work. They had started on the east and west sides of the city to try and keep neighboring municipalities and their citizens from meddling in what they considered "government affairs", and a considerably weaker foot perimeter had been established at the southern end of the area, leaving the northern side relatively accessible to prying eyes. They were apparently stretched quite thin at the moment and simply didn't have the resources and manpower to do anything more.

And that was good news for Nico and Nero since they had work to do.

Nero craned his neck to the side as he stared blankly at Nico, unsure as to what to say about the scene unfolding in front of him. Sitting along the side of the van were three medium sized moving boxes that were practically overflowing with old books. Most of them were covered in dust and slightly worn from the elements, but probably still readable while others looked to be in need of serious repairs. Some looked just fine. But the question was why were they here?

"Nico… Since when do you read? What the hell is with all these books?" Nero said as he examined one of the boxes of books disinterestedly, shaking his head at the sheer number of books. There were at least two large bookcases worth of them. This seemed beyond excessive to him.

She plopped down the box that she was in the process of loading into the van, allowing it to come to rest on the couch. A loud groan escaped her lips as she turned to step down the step that led to the pavement. She knew that old books were heavy, but these ones had to weigh more than she did! Her back was going to pay dearly for her generosity.

"Oh shut your trap! You know good and well I'm not reading any of these old things," She says as she held up one of the books for emphasis," I'm doing V a favor. He said he'd owe me one if I brought back as many of these as I could find that were still in one piece."

Nero did a slight doubletake, his brow furrowing in a mixture or surprise and confusion. While that made perfect sense, he had to admit that this was news to him. He'd never seen Nico accept an "I owe you" before. Cash was almost always a prerequisite to service when it came to her valuable time and effort. But she'd made an exception for V?

"Your doing him a favor? That's… well, that's nice of you, I guess." Nero said as he shrugged and reached for a nearby box. He knew that she wasn't going to let him help her with the ones she was already carrying. And besides, she'd managed the first one just fine without his help. But tossing the last two boxes in the van for her wasn't going to hurt anyone. Well, accept maybe their backs. How the hell was V going to pick these up anyway? One at a time?

The young mechanic put the box down next to the previous one and shrugged, not really sure what he expected her to say about it. "Yea, well he gave me some pretty rare stuff a while back that I used to make a pretty sick devil breaker, so I kinda owe him. It's whatever. Just a couple books. No bige."

Nero took a moment to consider what she'd said. He recalled a time in Redgrave City right after they had rescued Lady when V had found his way to the van with a chunk of some sort of glowing rock. Nico had seemed pretty excited about that at the time. Was that what she was talking about? Better yet, why did he care so much? Their dealings were none of his business and there probably wasn't anything more to them than V wanting something else to read. He'd tapped out the few books laying around their place that weren't for little kids several days ago (and some of those too, although mostly for the sake of providing entertainment to the children. They enjoyed when he read to them.) and Vergil still had his book at Dante's office, so he was probably starving for mental stimulation. But most of these didn't really look like the types of books you just read for entertainment's sake. Besides the heavy damage they'd incurred due to being left out in the elements for so long, most were educational texts such as dictionaries, legal books, and encyclopedia sets. Who the hell would read a dictionary for fun?

Oh.

As they loaded the final boxes and Nico climbed back into the drivers seat of the van, he couldn't help himself from digging just a little bit further. Now part of him kinda found this funny. As he flopped down into the passenger's seat and put his feet up onto the dashboard, he decided he'd ask a final question and then drop the matter entirely. 

"Did he actually ask you for all these boring dictionaries and crap? I thought he was more into poetry." Nero said offhandedly. He'd heard his brother quote that damn book enough times to glean that from him. Despite popular belief, he wasn't clueless.

Nico shrugged again as she started the engine. "He just said he wanted "collections of books' '. Most of them just happened to be boring shit. Now stop playin' twenty questions with me before I tell him you read his damn book so he can quiz you to death on it!"

He wasn't sure if he actually did it, but he could almost swear that he visibly paled at the statement. That was the last thing he needed. After V had "died" and the rest of his family had swan dived into hell, the book had been left in his care. What had at first been just a few curious glances had somehow turned into him reading the entire book cover to cover despite the fact that he didn't really understand a lot of the concepts covered in the texts. It was all a bit philosophical for him. While he'd done plenty of reading in his lifetime, none of it had been on this kind of subject matter. The only thing it had really impressed upon him was the fact that V was pretty damn smart for his age. After all, they couldn't have been born that far apart. 

And yet, Nero had actually enjoyed reading it. The context behind a lot of the quotes V had rattled off made a lot more sense to him now and they helped paint a picture of a person who was solemn and mournful, but still personable and easy enough to get along with. If he had to describe V in a single word, he'd say he was just misunderstood. Despite being surrounded by people, he always seemed so lonely and out of place. But he'd never say any of this to his face. The last thing he was ready for was a deep conversation with V, though he got the feeling it was an inevitability.

As they drove through the ruined streets of Redgrave City on their way back home, a shared silence fell over them as they crossed the barrier into ground zero. An area twice the size of the colosseum that used to consist of family homes and businesses; parks and plazas. None of that remained now, the entire city block now leveled and covered from head to toe in a thick layer of white ash. Jagged chunks of earth that seemed to jut out of hell itself stuck up out of a massive ravine in the center. On the far side of the clearing were the remnants of the house that V had once pointed out to him, a place he was admittedly curious considering the fact that it was somehow still standing after everything that had happened to this place. What had been the significance of it?

It was a haunting sight to behold, and a terrifying reminder of what his family was capable of when they got carried away. He couldn't stop thinking about how easily something like this had almost happened to Fortuna just a few short years ago. So much death and destruction. It chilled him to his very core and he suddenly felt an intense desire to leave this place and not think about it any further, at least for a while.

As they passed through the far side of the clearing, Nico suddenly slammed on the breaks. Nero jolted forward and smacked his head on the dashboard, his ears ringing and head throbbing. While the impact wasn't hard enough to give him a concussion, it still hurt like hell and he couldn't help but become instantly pissed at the fact that it had happened.

"Nico, what the fuck is-" Nero started to take her to task for her awful driving, only to realize as he sat up that she was no longer in the van. A quick, somewhat panicked glance confirmed that she was standing a few yards away from the van, her back to him. From what he could tell, she seemed to be looking at something on the ground. Nero let out a sigh that was equal parts relief and frustration as he threw the seatbelt over his shoulder and headed over to meet up with Nico. He was curious to see what all the fuss was about. As much as his head hurt, it had better be good.

Before he could say anything, Nico gestured to the ground in front of her. She seemed to know that he was on the brink of scolding her for nearly breaking his neck on the dashboard of their ride, although she didn't seem concerned. She knew he was durable. As he approached, Nero was surprised to find a small patch of red glowing flowers in the middle of space before them. He'd seen them before in the train station, but this was a relatively uncommon occurrence. From what he could tell, they had just grown in since they hadn't been here during their last visit to the city. Apparently something about the Qliphoth pollion made the soil hospitable. At least that's what he was willing to guess. Maybe Magnolia could tell them? After all, she was a botanist. 

But as unusual as it was to see the demonic flowers just growing wildly out in the open, another sight caught his eye. More specifically, Nico gestured towards it in mild disbelief, a slightly wide eyed and giddy look on her face. Impaled smack dab in the middle of the small field of plants was a very familiar piece of shiny metal, a handful of vibrant blue feathers accompanying it. Somehow during everything that had happened at the top of the Qliphoth including it's violent destruction, V's cane had made its way down here and embedded itself in the ground. It was almost unbelievable. They had passed by here once before, but it had been dark out. How on earth had it managed to land in this exact spot so close to one of the only remaining roads? And why had this field of plants sprung up around it? The entire situation was nothing short of astonishing.

Nico shook her head and folded her arms, looking down at the scene unfolding before her. "Looks like I need to run some more tests on this damn thing! Guess I missed somethin' the last time. This is just weird. And what's up with these flowers? We're gonna need some samples of these things. Wonder if there's somethin' to em."

Nero nodded, agreeing in silent bewilderment. While it made perfect sense that it could survive a fall from the height that it did, he was amazed that it hadn't landed in the nearby bay or fallen into a casem somewhere. He wondered how V would react to seeing it again after all this time. More than likely, he'd be relieved considering how he'd used it to assist himself with walking up until the point where it had been lost during their final battle with Urizen. Well, Vergil. He needed to stop thinking about it. That whole situation was complicated and messy and sad and they would all get to it when the time came.

For now, they needed to find something to put these plants in. As supernatural as they seemed to be, they were practically screaming for a visit to Magnolia's shop. Nero was willing to bet that she could help them out with this. "Maybe… but we're never going to find out if we don't grab a couple. Oh, and if your awful driving gets us killed on the way back!" Nico shrugged nonchalantly as she headed back towards the car to grab the supplies they needed. "Quit cryin' you big baby, you're gonna be fine! Your heads made of thicker stuff than that, trust me. Now come grab a shovel and help me start diggin! I don't plan to still be in this damn place come dinner time."

Nero groaned and dragged himself over to the van. She made a valid point. Several valid points. V and the kids were definitely going to eat all the food if they didn't get back in time. And the last thing Nero felt like dealing with was being hungry and tired after having to fight off an entire city of demons if they were still here come nightfall.

-~-

It's great having you all back again for book two! Thanks so much for the ongoing support! I'll see you all again on Friday for chapter three. In the meantime, stay safe and have a great week! I hope it's not half as hot where you live as it is here!

[bewitchingwitch]

Constellations pt. 7

Hey y’all this I my first fanfic and since I’ve been obsessed with Newt Scamander lately I decided to do a series about him depending on if this part gets good reviews

Word count: 3,190

If you really want some Theseus Feels listen to lie to me by 5 seconds of summer

The Minister of Magic was standing in Theseus office as you both walked in, hand in hand, and she did not look happy. She was scowling, but despite that still looked beautiful as a powerful figure of authority should. She had long golden hair that was inches away from skimming the floor, it had a series of interact braids weaving in out. "Ah it seems our lovebird chose to sleep in zee morning." She had a French accent as if English was her second language.

Her icy blue eyes surveyed over you both noticing that you were walking hand in hand and that Theseus had a protective stance. You were both still standing in the door way. Theseus dragged you forward and closed the door, if a scene went down he didn't need the whole department to know.

She moved closer to where you both were standing her heels clicking on the hardwood. "I would think our head auror would know better than to show up late, especially when zee knows that she was expecting zeem this morning." She seems to slur some of her worlds but he remarks still seemed to strike Theseus painfully.

Theseus quickly dropped your hand, and bowed his head in apology. "I'm sorry Minister. I should have known better than to be late."

"But Theseus-" he shot you a look urging you to keep your mouth shut.

"I lost track of time, it's as simple as that."

The Minister had a look of distaste on her face. You always assumed the Minster of magic was a man, but it seemed you were mistaken, and wrongly so. This women seemed to be far more intimidating and powerful than any wizard.

"Hm lost track of time Theseus? Are you sure you weren't just, how do you say fooling around with your new "trainee."

Theseus' ears turned bright red and you felt yourself heat up and cast your gaze downward. "I would never do something like that on the Ministry's time." Theseus was defiant, but the Minister could see right through him.

She leaned towards him and whispered softly so that you couldn't hear. "But I bet you'd love to fool around with her on your own time. I zee the way you look at her your thoughts aren't so innocent chéri." She smiled wickedly as she pulled back, leaving you baffled at what she said to Theseus.

Theseus was red with both anger and embarrassment. The Minister moved to lean on Theseus' desk, still addressing him. "I shouldn't reward you for your unacceptable tardiness but, there is no one who is capable other than you two to carry out this mission for me."

You stepped forward to stand even with Theseus and looked at the Minister as her smirk grew wider by the second. "We have gotten new information about the whereabouts of some of Grindelwald's closets followers. They are staying in a hotel across the city and I need you both to go there and try and bring them back for interrogation."

"Of course we'll go right away."

"Tsk tsk dear Theseus. There is still more." She seemed to pause for the liking of dramatic effect. "To avoid suspicion you will need to pose as a couple."

You were taken aback and so was Theseus. "A couple what for?"

"Theseus when you ask zee stupid questions like that it makes me think you are too incompetent for this task." She looked down batting her long lashes. "I thought you were a professional and would know better than to question a women in authority."

Theseus held himself back from giving a response, biting his tongue.

She stood up straight smoothing out the creases on her dress as she made her way over to you. You gulped as she inched closer her eyes analyzing every feature of your face. She reached a hand up and gripped you lightly by your chin. Her nails were painted a light pink  and were long almost like talons.

She turned you head side to side, tilting your head back and then pulling it down. "Nice bone structure, strong jaw." She took a long finger and ran it along your jaw tracing the outline. "Close your eyes." You obeyed, but you could still here her mumbling to herself. "Long lashes." She released your chin and placed both hands on the sides of your cheeks and ran her cold hands down you cheek bones. "You may open your eyes now."

You opened your eyes to see her still standing in front of you her arms crossed and one hip pushed out. She grabbed Theseus by his forearm and spun him around before he landed next to you, you were standing side by side as he gripped your arm for support. "Perfect."

She clasped her hands together and smiled softly and you could see just how beautiful she was when she wasn't scaring the crap out of everyone. "I'll have Margret put a little makeup on her and I'll have you guys ready to go in about a hour."

She surged forward and grabbed your hand before you had a chance to protest as she dragged you out of the office. "Wait here Theseus I'll come get you when I'm done."

Theseus stared at the door in shock not being able to form any words. He felt anxiety building up in his throat, he didn't know what to do with himself in the meantime. But he made himself stay busy. He spent the hour making calls and signing papers. He was aimlessly twirling his quill between his fingers when his door burst open to revel the Minister.

He stood up at her arrival. "May I present your girlfriend." And for the first time Theseus couldn't find it in himself to correct the fact that your were not his girlfriend.

You stepped through the door and he felt his breath catch in his throat. You normally wore no makeup and you hadn't put much on but what you had on made you look like an angel standing before him. Everything seemed to capture just the right things the light eye shadow made your eyes pop out and sparkle drawing attention to them. The light pink that decorated your lips made them look so soft and gentle. The lightest touches didn't change who you were it just made you look like yourself at full volume.

He swallowed hard. He noticed that she had also changed you into something new. You were now wearing a black floor length gown that hugged your body in all the right places. It had a v neck that went painfully low, very uncommon of the era. The gold trimming decorated the fabric in a pattern that was very star like. Wrapped around your shoulders was a brown mink coat that hung loosely.

He felt the need to loosen his tie as he felt that he couldn't breathe. You looked so painfully beautiful he couldn't stop himself from staring. You looked at him. "What?" You said quietly.

"Now now you will have much more time to stare at Ms. (y/l/n) later." She moved over the Theseus and frowned noticing very imperfection in his outfit. "Close your mouth Theseus you'll catch flies." He quickly shut his mouth. "I didn't think I'd have to fix you up but you look disheveled. Are you sure you weren't fooling around with her this morning." She whispered as she took in his messy hair and untucked shirt.

"I didn't fool around with her." He said through gritted teeth.

"Well alright no need to make zee big deal." She turned to face you her expression going soft. "I'm just gonna fix him up a bit wait here love." She pushed him out despite his protest and seconds later to your surprise she was back.

She stepped in followed by Theseus. He was wearing a soft dark grey suit with a cool grey colored button up underneath. He had a thick silver tie that was stripped that was tucked into his grey vest. His outfit was so simple but so visually stunning. You found yourself noticing how good he looked especially when he walked in with one hand in his pocket and his hair slicked back with gel. He looked like he could be on the cover of a fashion magazine. His freckles, which some saw as imperfections, made him even more stunning as they decorated all this features. You found yourself wanting to trace over every one of them.

She led you both to stand side by side and noticed how well your outfits complemented one another. You really did look like a couple made in heaven.

The Minister took in both of your reactions to each other smirking to herself. She had dressed you both in what she figured each other would fancy and it worked out wonderfully. Her plan was going better than she anticipated.

"Well here's the address I'm sure you won't have any problem finding it."

"Thank you." Theseus took the slip of paper from her hand and placed it in his coat pocket.

She made her way to the door her long dress trailing behind her. She looked over her shoulder as she was about to exit, her hand grabbing onto the door handle. "One more thing. The hotel is were a lot of muggles typically stay so to blend in you will need to take a muggle form of transportation. Preferably a car, but that you will have to find on your own." She closed the door leaving you both to your own devices.

"How are we gonna find a car?" Theseus questioned.

"I may have an idea."

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

"No way! No fucking way! Excuse me cursing. But no way!" You giggled as Theseus worked his way around your car taking it all in. "I can't believe you have a Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost!"

"Mhmm."

"How'd you get a car like this?"

"My dad is an American mechanic and he bought it cheap from a client and sent it up to me." You had both Apparated back to your apartment after the Minister left. You had a car and figured you could take it to the hotel. "I didn't know you were into cars."

"I took muggle studies at Hogwarts and the mechanical engineering behind muggle transposition always fascinated me. Especially cars." Theseus ran his hand over the body of the car whistling. You thought it was so cute how Theseus, a wizard, someone who had seen magic, who could do magic, could be so fascinated with something as simple as a car.

"It's beautiful." The car was cherry red and in the sunlight it seemed to sparkle. "And you can drive?"

"I sure can." You smiled and he looked at you with adoration. He was over the moon about not only about the car but about you.

"I always wanted to learn how to drive but that was never something that was taught at Hogwarts." He laughed sadly as he continued to stare at your car.

"Do you want to learn?" You smiled as you dangled the keys outs in front of you.

"Are you serious?" He smiled ear to ear.

You tossed the keys to him and he caught them. "Of course." You got into the passengers seat and he rushed into the drivers seat settling in before twisting the key to start the ignition. It roared to live and he couldn't stop himself from laughing in excitement.

"Okay so I have the basics down but I just wanna be sure." Theseus looked like a child on Christmas morning as he grabbed the steering wheel. "So break, gas, shift," he went over all the mechanisms checking with you to see if he was correct. You nodded along he knew a surprising amount about cars.

"Here we go." He pulled out and began driving along the stretch of road you could tell he was nervous.

"So just make sure to use turn signals and your all good." You smiled.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

He hollered out in joy and you laughed along. You had so much fun with Theseus, sharing new experiences with him. You glanced to side and noticed how at ease he was behind the wheel, sure his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel to hard, but other than that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Theseus loved being with you. And he loved everything about you. The way your hair waved in the wind, the ways your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He smiled at you without you knowing and turned back to face the road.

As you drove along you brought up the topic of your mission. You discussed how you were going to act out being a couple. "Would you like me to call you something?" You asked him.

"Call me something?"

"You know like babe or honey or darling or beloved..." you listed possible pet names as Theseus felt his face heat up with every suggestion.

"Um you don't have to call me anything."

"Of course I do we want people to believe we're really in love with one another."

But I'm already in love with you. He thought to himself. He saw the hotel in the horizon and attempted to change the subject. "We're here." You rolled up to the hotel it was an architectural masterpiece. It glistened in the sun, your were surprised you hadn't seen it from a mile away.

Theseus got out of the car and made his way to were you'd at to open your door for you. You stepped out as Theseus pulled you close whispering softly. "Remember we're supposed to be a loving couple."

"I remember and it won't be be a problem my beloved." You whispered back as you saw his ears tint red at the pet name.

You looped your arm through his and let him lead you into the hotel as the doorman opened the door and you gave him a thanks. As you made your way the the recipient desk you noticed that the muggles were all starring around you. Theseus seemed to notice too.

"I don't think they think we're a couple." Theseus muttered as he glanced down at you.

You glanced around at the other couples in the hotel and noticed how at ease they were with each other. Theseus however kept a small distance between you too and it seemed as if he was an escort not a boyfriend. "You're too stiff you need to loosen up." You shot back.

"I'll try." He relaxed his shoulders and tried to seem more at ease but it wasn't enough. Unknown to you Theseus was nervous because he was posing as your boyfriend something he would rather be a reality. And he couldn't help himself from thinking that you found him so unappealing and would rather be with his brother on a mission than with him.

You decided to take matters into your own hands. You nuzzled into him and smiled up affectionally at him. He knew what you were doing but part of him couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if all this was real. If you everyday could look at him like that.

"Darling I need to tell you something." You said loud enough for onlookers to hear.

"What is it my love?" Theseus stopped walking and and turned to face you tucking a stray hair behind your ea, his hand lingering and caressing your face.

"Come closer." You smiled at him batting your eyelashes. He leaned closer. "No closer." You we're now inches apart and you closed the space surprising Theseus and everyone around you. You were standing on the tips of your toes kissing Theseus Scamander. You paced a hand behind his head running your hand though his geled hair and placed your other hand on his chest.

Theseus melted into you cupping your face and closing his eyes and he kissed you back all of his dreams coming true as he prolonged the kiss. You slowly pulled away as your eyes fluttered open as both of you out of breath. "Surprise." You said softly. He ran his thumb softly over your lip staring  at you in a way very woman wanted to be looked at.

And at that moment you felt such love and affection for the Scamander brother who was fascinated with cars and who made you happy by being excited at the smallest things.

You broke out of your trance and leaned up again to Eskimo kiss him before whispering," let me handle the talking."

You led him forward to the desk were a uptight proper muggle sat. "Hello sir I'm here to check in with my boyfriend I believe it's under the name Scamander."

The man looked up at you two and you could see that he had a soft spot for couples, something you decided to take advantage or it. "We've been dying to come to this hotel."

"Really?" The man asked.

"Oh yes of course it's a beautiful hotel. My boyfriend and I are architects that's how we met actually. He and I were assigned to work on a project together and we just clicked. This is our first trip together and I'm ever so excited to be taking it with a man as wonderful as my beloved." You turned to smile at him and he returned it and nothing about his look was faked.

The concierge looked at you with loving eyes. The way Theseus looked at You was in no way faked or staged and he could tell. "Of course and for such a lovely couple I'll upgrade you to the honeymoons suite."

"Oh that's too kind we're not even on our honeymoon." Theseus remarked as he pulled you close to kiss the top of your head.

"Ah but the way you look at one another I can tell that wedding bells aren't to far away my darling." The man remarked as he handed you the keys to your room.

"As wonderful as she is and as happy as she makes me, your aren't wrong sir." Theseus shook hands with hand as you passed on your way to the elevator.

As the elevator door closed on you two you both let out shaky laughs but you didn't move away from one another. In fact you nestled yourself closer and rested you head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you. "We did good." Theseus said as he squeezed your shoulder.

"We really do make a good couple." You closed your eyes leaning into him smelling his expensive cologne, the smell putting you at ease.

"Hmm." He hummed in response.

"That was some good acting. For a second I almost thought you loved me." You said wistfully  you were sad that it was probably all an act. You had said the comment without thinking but it hurt Theseus even though you didn't intend it to.

"But I-" he started but then stopped himself thinking better if it. "Yeah it was good acting." He mumbled as he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

Taglist: @hearteyesmotherclucker @gaenahelleborus @melodramaticmelon2118 @michellekstr @nctyong-xo @preppy-by-the-c @sweetlyshinylady @emo-plaidin @dreacantsleep @theetherealbloom @lily2089 @mywckdmind @barbarachern @imbiandiwanttocry @ollyoxenfrees @newtslatte @pettylady @februarycalum @justanotherenglisheducationmajor @feelthefeelingsinsideyou @ombriescent @ztinge @liloefuru @reindeerdaisies @babywizardoll @missanonyma @heckin-kat @thewitchmadness

[chanzicoup]

A/N: I got this template from tenseoyong and I could not find the original creator to give proper credit to.

A = Announcement.- How do you tell him and the world that you’re expecting?

You would surprise him with something cute like a card or flowers. Most likely both since it was a special occasion. When he saw the green and yellow flowers on the counter with a matching card he grew suspicious, as if you were pulling a prank on him. When he read the card and realized he would become a father he ran through the whole house to find you, and not even seeing you sitting on the couch laughing. You were there the whole time! When you made your presence known he leaned down to your level and higged your waist, the awkward position of you sitting and him on his knees not mattering, you two were as happy as could be! Telling the fans would be nerve wracking for him, especially if your relationship wasn't public. Because of that he would wait but not wait too long, just a month so he can plan it out.

B = Books.- Did he read the books?

I can't see him sitting down and taking a large amount of his time to read any dense novels on parenthood, but I can see him skimming through baby magazines at the doctor appointments he'll be going to and pointing out the interesting things he finds in a paragraph.

C = Cuddles.- Who cuddles the baby more?

No matter if the baby is a boy or a girl they'll have their daddy wrapped around their fingers. He'll spoil the neck out of then with toys, food, and snuggles. They wouldn't even be crying or anything like they can be sitting at the couch and Martin comes in "You'll sit on my lap because you are daddy's prince/princess" and thats that.

D = Daddy.- His reaction to being called Daddy and it setting in.

The first time someone mentions him being a father and/or thr baby he's probably going to start boasting about you and the work you two out into raising a newborn. Even if the person didn't ask hed give them tips he's found out along the way.

E = Empty.- Who goes to the store when you guys run out of supplies?

You would be the one to know what you needed and when you needed it but you would be too busy to actually take a trip to the store. You both were! Jaehyun would always forget to grab whatever it was before or after work so all of you would go out together and get the things you needed.

F = Feeding time- Who does feeding time?

He'd be in more control of snacking while you give the bottles or baby food. Like I said earlier he loves to spoil the babe so he's the kind of dad that gives ice cream and candy before dinner even if you told him not to.

G = Grumpy baby. - Who is better at dealing with a grumpy baby?

The baby is never grumpy unless they didnt get what they wanted, thanks to their dad. You would be the bad guy there and say "no" and you'll have to tell him to stand down too because no way are you two going to have any disrespect coming from your child when they are older.

H = How?- how many kids does he want?

Jaehyun might be too nervous to have more than one but that’s just because he’s a first time parent who is still learning. It’ll depend on how the journey goes for the both of you and it’s a conversation to have later.

Jokes.- best dad joke?

Why dies snoop dog need an umbrella?

Fo' drizzle.

K = Kisses.- His favorite place to kiss the baby.

All over of course! He loves to snuggle the tiny babe and he's there to share all of the love he has to give!

L = Little.- How he feels when he holds the baby for the first time.

He's been holding in his excitement just for this moment so when the baby is placed in his arms for the first time he squeals and points out their little quirks that are completely normal but seem golden in his eyes. Their button nose and tiny toes, the way their eyes squint shut when the door shuts, how their lip is curved into a smile and they haven't even been on the earth for a day. Prepare for him to get a bit poetic but leave him be, he's just so happy!

M = Mommy.- what does he call you?

Like most of the people I've done one of these A-Z for he'd call you "mom" or "mama" when the baby is around, which is nearly all the time. But when it's just you two even for a minute in the kitchen he's treating you to the cute pet names you two have had since before you started dating. The spark is never going to die as long as he's around to ignite it.

N = Nappies.- who deals with the really bad diapers?

He doesn't like seeing the baby cry so when they have a dirty diaper and get upset he'll take care of it quickly and turn on the television or music to distract them. But he would probably forget to clean up the mess meaning the towel, wipes, and the smelly nappy is still on the ground for you to clean. If it really bugs you he'll stop and take more time to do it for you if he remembers.

O = Onesies- Who likes to dress the baby in ridiculous outfits?

The baby gets a new outfit every week thanks to their never ending spending father who looks for any reason to buy them a new set of clothes. "Look honey, it's snowing out! We need to get a coat for the baby!" "It's summer Jaehyun...." "Already?! We need to go out now or it'll be too late!"

P = Pet names- names he calls the baby.

If the baby babbles a lot and repeats a certain sound he'd call the baby that. Hopefully it's not too ridiculous.

Q = Questions.- How many questions does he ask the nurse?

He wouldn't even be thinking about anything like that, the only thing on his mind is what color to paint the nursery or something, you'll either have to ask them yourself or the nurse will be very good at her job and inform the two of you anyway.

R = Rely- what is the biggest thing you rely on each other for?

He would rely on you to tell him what to do. If you think he isn't fulfilling his responsibilities as a father then he would want you to point them out so he can improve. And idk if this was obvious but you would rely on him for some support because being a first time parent is crazy and stressful enough and going through it alone just sucks.

S = Sleep duty. - who gets up when it’s really late at night?

Y'all are probably tired of hearing me say this, especially if you read my other A-Zs but you both will be on sleep duty. You guys need to stay healthy for the baby anyway so one getting more sleep than the other is just unproductive and silly.

T = Trepidation.- fears as a new parent.

He'd be afraid of his social life (and sex life tbh) being nonexistent. But don't worry, the two of you somehow manage to make things work ;)

U = Ultra sounds.- His reactions to the ultrasounds.

He'd do the same thing as when he holds the baby for the first time but keeps it more modest and quiet since the baby isn't here just yet.

V = Values.- what is the most important value he wants to teach your child.

If there is one thing he has learned in his life it is to truly trust in those who love you and to accept their help when you need it because going through life is something nearly impossible to do solo but if you have people on your side you are ready to change the world instead of ruling it.

W = Water.- Who gives the babe the baths?

He would ask you to do it since he is pooped from playing all day lol.

X = X-mas- what do you guys plan for the holidays?

He'd want to start new traditions aside from the ones you to may or may not have. After the dinners and the gifts he's already setting up the tradition what ever it may be.

Y = Yelling.- How many fights do the two of you get in?

He would hope you two wouldn't but since he can't fortune tell he isn't really prepared for when you do. He'd want to keep it calm so then the baby isn't upset but sometimes, though rarely, things heat up and one of you are sleeping in another house. By morning no matter who was at fault he's take the baby to his parents place or the NCT dorms to talk things out with you and make it work.

Z = Zoo- How crazy is the house after the birth?

Surprisingly things aren't so bad, but wait until the baby becomes a toddler and starts walking. Good luck!

~Blake

[txnystarkimagines]

All Work and No Play

Pairings:Tony Stark X Reader

Requested By: @cajunlizard

Words:2043

Permanent Tag List:@sybil-howlett @palaiasaurus64 @sherlockholmesisbae @redroomproperty@alwaysoutoftheordinary @withouthannah @metaphysicalmisha@andybubblebath @secretninjachild @whatshernamemaria               @ pou-noikiazeis-to-oneiro @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive@niallandsebastianaremylife @raindancer2004  @v-esperteen  @purpledolphin-f  @sour-kangaroo1998 @princeffreeshgoddessofgreatbooty

Author’s Note: I am not really happy with how this turned out to be. And I think I kinda dragged it a lot. So meh,I decided to post it anyway.

MASTERLIST  | REQUEST HERE | TAG LIST IS OPEN

"Now you hold the brush,put on some paint and stroke."You instructed to the 5 year old boy sitting beside you.

"Yay!"You exclaimed,raising up your hand for a high five."You did it."

Sam's palm slapped against yours,diverting his friend's attention towards him. As they got involved in useless babble,you felt someone tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Melissa sweetie,what is it? How man times have I told you,you always wait for the person to turn to you,you never pull at them.Okay?"You explained to her softly.

"Sorry Ms. Y/N,but there is a man at the door."

You immediately turn towards the play rooms entrance, only to meet Tony Stark,leaning against the door frame. Your eyes widened in shock. What was he doing here? In a pre school?

"Hello, Mr. Stark." You walked over to him.

"Ms. L/N."He nodded at you.

"What brings you here?" You asked him quietly,not wanting the kids to know.

"I am here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative."

"Does the administration know,that you are here to talk to me when I'm on duty?" You asked.

"Obviously."

"I don't believe you."You snapped. He was Tony Stark,why would he ever take someone's permission to do something. "Wait here while I go and have a talk with them?"

"Kids,"You acknowledged the whole class."I have to speak to Mr. Brown,please behave and carry on with your work."

"Yes Ms. Y/N."All of them chorused.

Your shoulder brushed against his leather jacket,as you moved past him. "Make way!" You snapped.

Technically you knew why he was here. Years of hiding and this new job had put on the radar after only a few months. You were angry. How dare he come to the school where there are kids to talk you about something? The kids were the most important for you and if anything ever happened to them you won't be able to forgive them. He should have waited for your off. You rolled your eyes. There was no way you were going to join his super secret boy band.

After getting to know that the admin had given you the whole day off,and arranged a sub for your class at the persistence of Tony Stark,you were annoyed. As you reached the vicinity of your classroom you hear shouts and laughter from the room. Your heals created loud clicks against the floor as you fastened the pace. Entering the classroom,your jaw dropped in shock. There he was Tony Stark sitting in the middle with the kids all around him. Two sat on his lap, shuffling around with his glasses while he was talking to the other two,probably telling them a funny story due to all the laughter.

"What the hell?"You mumbled under your breath.  "Kids! Stark!"You called for their attention.

"I told you to stay put didn't I?"

"Sorry miss."They exclaimed,moving back to their seats as Tony too sat up.

"Now I won't be here for the day so Miss Sophia from Room B will be taking over. Behave. I don't want to hear any complaints."

Immediately questions filled the room. The children's curiosity and tendencies to want to know everything and anything.

"Are you sick?" "Is he your boyfriend?" "Are you going on a date?" "Are you a secret hero like Iron Man?" "Is he really Iron Man?" You chuckled at the last one,grabbing your coat and purse from the desk.

"Come on kiddos,don't pester your teacher. If you behave I might as well come and visit again."

"No, you won't." Both of you exited the room and cries of cheer echoed around the room. You greeted the sub with on your way out.

Walking down the hall,you were trying to put on the coat when he stopped all of a sudden. He took it from you holding it out for you and you quickly slipped into your arms. "Really? I could that."

"What a time,"He stated dramatically."Being a gentleman gets you nowhere."

"You are no gentleman Stark."You sneered.

"True.Now where to?"

"Oh no,no! Nowhere. We talk right here."

"In the cold,no way woman."He cried out."Your place or mine?"he smirked.

"Mine."You snapped,using your telekinesis to move the car keys out of his palm and into yours. "I drive."

He looked at you with wide eyes."What?" You asked him. "Never seen a woman drive?"You asked him,walking over to the red Audi R8 Spyder that was obviously his.

"Never seen a woman do that."He replied.

"I thought the witch had similar powers. Whats her name Wilma? No Wendy it was,I think."

"Wanda. And no. Her powers are not natural. Yours are." He stated,getting into the passenger side without any protest.

"So what brings you here?" You asked him again,pulling out of the car park and onto the main road.

" I told you. I am here to ask you to join the Avengers."

"And I am telling you there is no way I am going to join that super secret boy band of yours."

"Funny,how years ago I said the same thing to the Director of SHIELD.God it's too early!"He huffed."I can't do this without a drink."

"Well wait then. We are nearly there."You answered,speeding up.

"Make yourself right at home."You told him,hanging your coat and purse on the hanger in the foyer.

"I am making some coffee. You want that or scotch?"

"Coffee.Black."

"Coming right up."

Tony looked around the living room,void of any pictures. It was a small apartment,probably one bedroom,one bath,a living room and a kitchen he guessed.A black leather couch was pushed far up against the wall,with a shelve above it. Opposite to it was an led TV and a fire place below,currently turned on.A white fur rug rested there with a bench on top to sit next to the fire. In the end a floor lamp stood in the corner next to window,covered in sheer white curtain. The floor was black and the walls a light grey. He had to admit though you got a taste.

"Nice place you have here."He complimented as you entered the room with two mugs in hand,with the Avengers on them.

"You have got nicer."You stated handing him the mug.

"Really?"He raised his eyebrows up at you.

"What?! They were on sale."you shrugged.

"So.."You took a seat adjacent to him.

"We need you to join Y/N."

"Who's we?"

"Well me,War Machine, and uh Vision."

"What about the others?"

"We are kind of not together anymore. They are war criminals now."

"I see."

"Look Y/N. I am Tony Stark and I can have whatever I want. But I came down here personally right now to ask you to join because I need you. The world needs you. And I hope you do."

"What does it entail?  Whats in it for me?"

"You get to live in the Avengers Facility,Upstate New York 24/7. Food and clothes,furniture included. You have 320 working days in a year. The rest are off. However global catastrophes don't count. And a hefty sum of money paid to you by yours truly.State and you will get it."He gestured.

"I still don't see whats in it for me."

"You will be paid whatever you want."

"I don't care,not everything is about money. I want to know why you need me. What made Iron Man come to my door step personally?"

"Something big is coming. "He started." Something cruel,all I know its gonna destroy everything we know and love. There is word about a Mad Titan,the most powerful being in the universe. Far more than us. And his eyes are down here on earth. We need all the help we can get it. For the sake of those whom you love,Y/N please."

You considered his offer for a bit. Was it really worth it? You could redeem everything. Clear the red from your ledger.

"I have a deal."You say.

"Ask and it's done."He looked at you.

"I need protection."

"From?"He asks.

"Not from,for.Whatever it is that you speak of,I need protection for Dean."

"Boyfriend?"He smirks at you.

"Son."You stated. His eyes widen in shock.

"You have a son? Wow, you don't look like a mother."

"And what does a mother look like? Anyways I am sure you have read my file."

"Obviously."

"So you also know that there was a time when I was running from HYDRA. I was seven months pregnant at that time. I didn't really see the point of bringing a child into this world. So I went for an abortion."

He sucked in a breath.

"The doctor, a woman surprisingly was gynecologist but didn't have any children with her husband. She was barren. So we made a deal. I told her everything,and she adopted my son. In return, she would tell him who his real mother was when he turned 15. He is 6 now. Joining you would mean that I don't get to see him regularly. And if something happens to me,or this Titan of yours comes,I need to be assured that Dean and his parents will not be harmed. Not a scratch."

"Wow." Tony really didn't see that."You've got yourself a deal." He got up.

"I'll see you on Monday. "

"Nope,you will see me next month. Someone has to wrap up everything here." You answered.

"Ok."He extended his hand towards you for a shake. Instead, you just pulled him in for a hug,rising on your tip toes to reach his neck as you weren't wearing the heels anymore. You pressed a soft kiss against his stubbly cheek.

"It gets better you know."You tell him as you walk him out.

"What?"

"That look in your eyes. I know it well. While it might not seem like it right now but it does get better."

He just smiled at you in return. Soon you could hear the sound of rockets blazing and the Iron Man suit land beside him,opening up to reveal the insides.

"What about your car?"You ask,staring at the way the suit wraps around him. Damn that's sexy,you think.

"Keep it,at least I know you will return."The mask slams shut before his face.

"Ms. L/N." He nods at you.

"Mr. Stark."You nod back,and then he shoots up into the air.

[aristarshower]

Star Catcher

Masterpost

Adventure Three-The Big Lesbian Wedding

Ugh, my jell still stinks from that stupid tank. Dig was back in their usual bio suit that translated their luminescence for others. It also let them move to their liking without being restricted by the lack of liquid around them. They were also enjoying all the attention the crew was giving them.

“Sorry you had to go through that, Dig. How about I cook for today and you take the day off?” Nisha offered. Dex knew she felt bad even though no one was hurt. It had been a close call and neither the ship nor the crew were truly capable of withstanding close calls.

It’s alright. Cooking relaxes me. Dig removed something from the forge in front of them and blew into tiny shapes.

“Is that glass?” Dex whispered to Nisha.

“Have you never seen Harpie eat?” Dex felt it again, that gap that separated him from the others. He hadn’t really had the chance to know any alien species when he was on Earth and the few weeks he was aboard Star Catcher were a whirlwind of wedding preparation. He had a bad feeling that at the end of this he would have to leave. The only reason SC needed a new navigator was because Nisha was busy with the planning. Dex wasn’t even truly qualified. He had lied his way through and soon it would all come crashing down.

There was a little noise on the comms and the captain’s voice came through. “Hey guys! We’re back!”

The rest of the crew had gone away for a little recreation. They had shot forward thanks to the reserve star dust from the escape pod and got to a intergalactic wormhole. But the wormhole didn’t lead to the right galaxy. It led to Galaxy-G-YKOQA which had a wormhole to G-ETA or as Dex knew it, the Milky Way.

Galaxy-G-YKOQA was a strange system with two galaxies devouring each other. It was considered unstable for dust collection and made an excellent place for some quick down time while staying innocuous.

“Which planet are we on again?” Nisha made a noise that Dex assumed was the answer. The only sure thing was that it began with a Y. “So each galaxy is named after the live supporting planets in it right?”

“Yes.”

“Which one are you from?”

“Same as you. I am from the A though.” Araite. The first alien world humans found long long ago.

“What’s it like there?”

“Oh it’s nice.” She was busy clicking away on the hand-held before her..

“Weather good? Sunny?”

“I guess you wouldn’t call it sunny considering the temperatures on Earth but it is hot enough for humans to survive.”

“Pleasant winds?”

“Most of the time.”

“Then why aren’t you getting married there?”

“Uhhhh Dex we are getting married there. Why do you think we are heading to ETA?” Dex couldn’t answer. He had assumed Alina and Nisha would get married at Alina’s father’s place but that would be too absurd to say out loud. Of course they wouldn’t want everyone at a criminal headquarters. V saved him by entering quite explosively. He bounced off a few chairs and threw his arms around Dex.

“He...Hey...V…”

“Dex!!!” V shouted right in his ear.

“Alright, you idiot, get off him!” Alina dragged V away. “Sorry he gets a bit too ...drunk sometimes.”

“What did he drink?”

“Something Retmarians call the Qoedy.”

“Cody?”

“Eh close enough. V is a fucking lightweight but it wears off fast. He should be bearable by dinner. Speaking of dinner, Dig what are you cooking up for us?”

Burgers.

“With meat?” Dig made a vague motion Dex decided not to interpret.

“Oh Dex, I wanted to ask you what will you be wearing for the wedding?”

“Uhhh...I am invited?”

“Of course! You’re part of us now!” The words were warm but Dex didn’t feel it.

“I don’t know.” He left before Nisha could ask more questions. He hadn’t left the ship with the others because he had felt safest there. Somehow without him noticing the ship had become home. And it might all go away too soon.

“Dex!” V was hanging out of his door, dripping wet.

“Hey V.” Dex kept walking. Not even an almost naked V could cheer him up.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey buddy….”

“V stop patting my face.”

“Sorry but why is it all sad?”

“My face?”

“Yeah it looks bad.”

“Thanks.”

“No. Just tell me what’s wrong?” Dex couldn’t resist V’s pout.

“I like this ship.”

“Me too!...wait should I be sad about this too?”

“No! I just mean I am temporary. As soon as this wedding is done, it’s back to the boss for me and whatever the hell that means. And I like y …...this ship.”

V was grabbing the wall really hard making choked noises. Then he turned away from Dex and threw up all over the floor. Dex left as the cleaning bots hurried off to the mess beeping furiously.

***

The call for dinner went up on the comms. The crew usually did not eat together owing to the different dietary needs but once in awhile one of them decided they needed a meal together. Dex hadn’t been to one yet and was standing in front of a mirror nervously adjusting his hair. He didn’t know what the protocol would be. He understood that the crew unanimously deciding for a joint dinner is probably because of what happened with the Wadmians. He understood the need to stay close but at the same time facing all of them together would mean facing how much of an outsider he was.

Dex, done with your hair? Dig was at the door. They had modified the speakers on their suit to make the voice sound really deep making Dex jump.

“Yeah.”

You don’t have to be nervous Dex. We are not going to eat you. Just a heads up, don’t stare. With that ominous statement Dig threw open the door to the dining area which was just the cooking area with a few more chairs crammed around the table.

“Hey!”

“There he is!”

“Dex!!!” V was still a little loud but the others shouting with him made Dex laugh.

There was a lot of variety among the food on the table. Dex did not understand some of it but he knew burgers well enough. He grabbed a couple and sat down between Dig and Amani who was feeding Mel not so secretly under the table. Mel was opening up different sets of jaws snapping away the food passed to her.

There was a hiss from the door and Harpie entered dazzling everyone. Dig elbowed Dex to stop him from staring. Harpie had had their exo skeleton painted in a dazzling array of colours and then coated it all with some kind of glitter. They picked up the bowl with shaped glass shards and hissed in delight.

There’s no need to thank me Harps! I love shaping glass! Harpie hissed again in obvious delight and the conversation went on. Dex felt a pang when he realized he was the only one who could not follow it. Harpie’s language was still a mystery to him and Dig’s luminescence was too alien for him to piece together. He only understood them because of the suit. He bit morosely at the burger and made an involuntary delighted noise.

“This is amazing Dig!”

Thanks.

Nisha and Amani had a plate of burgers to but Alina had a bowl of something blue. Dex nudged Nisha.

“Why isn’t Alina eating?”

“She is. Are your eyes ok?”

“But…” Dex made a vague motion towards the blue something.

“Oh that’s Desr, a delicacy where she comes from. Don’t try it though. It’s poisonous for humans.”

“Alright.” Her words caught up with Dex. “Isn’t Alina human?” He hadn’t meant to shout but the rest of the crew fell silent. It was true that Alina was a couple of feet taller than the tallest human Dex knew but other than that she looked completely human, brown skin, golden brown hair, two dark eyes, two small ears, one two lipped mouth, one small nose and two pairs of limbs with five fingers each. The others burst out laughing.

“Who owes me money?” Amani demanded. V and Nisha raised their hands looking disppointed.

“Come on Dex. I really thought you knew humans.” V’s words made Dex flush. He didn’t dare ask what Alina was. Nisha changed the topic to flowers soon and Dex finished his meal in silence.

***

Dex turned again on his bed unable to sleep. Every time he tried sleeping he felt like the world was falling from beneath him and then he woke up and realized there was no world beneath him and he was hurling through space. He had felt like this the first time he was aboard a spaceship but he had gotten used to it easily.

There was a soft knock on his door and V slipped in. The room was dark and Dex could clearly see the lines of luminescence on V’s limbs. They weren’t used for communication like Dig’s as far as Dex knew. He didn’t know if it would be rude to ask so he made a note of studying Retmarian anatomy when he had the time.

“Hey! Sorry about earlier.” Dex shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal.” He really didn’t know what was a big deal.

“Not just about the uhhh…” V mimed throwing up and Dex smiled. The tension in V’s shoulders dropped a little. “I wanted to talk to you properly about what you were saying before that.” It was Dex’s turn to tense up.

“It’s alright, V. I was just being a little paranoid.”

“No, it’s not. You’re upset and that’s not nothing. Look I can’t pretend to know the captain’s mind but I assure you she won’t just leave you behind. Not after everything we have all been through.”

“You really think so?” Dex hated himself for the little hope in his voice.

“Yeah. And hey if she wants to kick you out, I’ll go with you!” Dex laughed. V’s bio luminiscence glowed a little brighter. “No I am serious. We’ll leave together and make ourselves a new life among the stars.”

“Thank you, V.”

“You are a part of us now, Dex. It will all be okay.” V patted Dex’s hand again and walked out.

***

Araite was a beautiful planet. Dex fell in love the second they landed. The whole wedding area was covered in light flakes of snow. The venue itself was decorated with little dust lights and balloons. Dex had dressed in his best clothes which was an old jacket and a clean shirt. Dig looked amazing in their new bio suit and Harpie’s glittery exoskeleton was drawing all the eyes. Amani had gone simple like Dex did and wore a soft jacket with a silk shirt. All of Dex’s thoughts scattered when V walked in. He was dressed in some kind of scaly armor that left most of his chest uncovered. The armor ended at his knees and he wore soft warm pants underneath. V’s luminescence showed prominently through the clothes. Dex realized that was the design. The beautiful golden scales reflected the light back onto V’s dark skin making him glow.

“Close your jaw, kiddo.” Amani snickered and Dex looked away hurriedly. He wasn’t the only one staring. Half the conversation had stopped the second V walked in. V noticed all the attention and bowed to everyone. There were a few giggles and everyone went back to what they were doing before.

V winked at Dex and walked away to talk to other people. Amani and Dex were having drinks when V appeared at their side. The glow was completely gone from his skin.

“We have a problem.”

***

“How the fuck did this even happen?” Nisha hissed. They were all bundled away from the wedding venue while the emergency team neutralized the threat.

“I don’t know. I assumed anyone making balloons would know not to fill it with flammable gas?” V had put on a few more layers. While the inside of the venue was dusted with snow for the aesthetic, outside the planet was a nightmare covered in snow with cold winds ripping them apart.

They had just managed to avert disaster. V had smelled something off when one of the balloons popped.

“At least no one was injured.” Alina was wrapped in the huge rainbow coloured thing Amani was knitting earlier. Dex realized it was a huge gown. Alina could wrap the train around her twice. She didn’t even need a coat. Nisha on the other hand was wearing the delicate wonderful Wadmian dress. Dex could see why it was special. The cloth itself was the softest Dex had ever touched and there were no threads like usual fabric. It was continuous and etched on it with utmost care and precision were designs like Dex had never seen before. And to top it all off there were crystals embedded at regular intervals making the dress glow more than V which was saying a lot.

“Yeah but what the hell are we going to do?” Nisha sounded close to tears. Alina drew her closer enveloping her in the rainbow fabric.

“Our ship is right there. Lets just get on for now. V find out how long it’s gonna take.”

V came back to the ship dejected. “Sorry guys it might take too long.”

“Why don’t you get married in the ship?” Dex wished he could take his words back the second he said them. The whole ship was crammed with wedding guests. There weren’t more than thirty but Star Catcher wasn’t built to hold that many people.

Dex was desperately trying to avoid being seen by Alina’s father. At the venue, the man was already seated at the front so Dex could just slip in the back but on the ship there was no escaping his presence. Alina’s mother was with Nisha’s parents but her father was with her. And now his whole attention was fixed on Dex.

“I...I..m...mea...mean...everyone is here.” Alina nodded encouragingly. “We can bring in some of the lights.”

“Or we could go into orbit.” Nisha’s eyes widened at Alina’s suggestion.

Harpie hissed something. “We can enough boost for the extra weight from the leftover star dust and we won’t need it later anyway.”

“We can totally make it happen! You can get married in front of the control panel with all the stars behind you!” The guests were warming up to the idea.

V patted Dex on the back. “Thank you.”

***

The wedding was beautiful. Mel had jumped up to Alina’s side and handed her the locket. Alina slipped it around Nisha’s neck while V cried silently behind her. Dex even saw a little tear in Amani’s eye but he knew he would die the second he mentioned it. Dig made little snuffling noises and punched Dex when he laughed. 

Nisha brought Alina a bracelet to go around her elbow. She pulled Alina forward and slipped it on. The entire ship erupted into applause when they kissed. Alina laughed when Nisha lifted her and almost toppled back.

A few people spoke in languages Dex did not understand. Alina’s father gave a short but sweet speech and wished them luck. V’s speech was filled with so many innuendos that Amani dragged him away before he could finish. Dex was worried someone would ask him to talk but the talking part was done soon.

“Lets dance!” Alina shouted and was met with more cheers.

There wasn’t enough food on the ship. None of them had thought of loading up the food from the venue. But there was plenty of booze so it was all okay in the end.

Harpie sang a slow song in their own language. Dex did not understand it but felt the sentiment flow throw him. Alina’s mother was dancing an old dance from Earth with Nisha. The woman was taller than Alina but Dex could see the resemblance in their eyes.

“Care to dance?” V was holding out his hand for Dex. There weren’t many people dancing and Dex had never danced before.

“I don’t know how to.”

“I could teach you.”

“I don’t really want to?” Dex said softly. He didn’t want to hurt V but he really didn’t want to dance either. V withdrew his hand and sat down beside Dex.

“Hey, you still worried about Alina kicking you out? I talked to her.”

“Why would you do that?” Dex didn’t care that he was whining.

“Shhh...I talked to her and she told me she would talk to us about this after the wedding.”

“Wait. So she didn’t tell you she was keeping me?”

“Well no…”

“Oh good. That’s reassuring.” Even V didn’t have an answer for that.

“Wanna get drunk?”

“Yes please.”

***

Dex and V were wasted by the time Alina took to the stage again. Stage was in this case was the slightly raised place before the control panel. Alina patted Mel and Mel screamed her kettle whistle until everyone went silent.

“We have an important announcement to make.” Alina took Nisha’s hand. Nisha’s mother gasped.

“Are you pregnant?”

“What? Ma! No!”

“Our announcement is that we are finally settling down!”

“Yes! We got a house. An actual house with walls and everything here!” Nisha hiccuped.

“So this is might as well be our final journey into space. And I love that we are finishing up on my first ship!”

There was a shocked silence. Everyone seemed to be waiting for one of them to laugh to call it a joke. Nisha’s parents broke the silence with tearful congratulations. Alina’s parents looked as shocked as the rest of the crew felt.

Dig’s voice was low but Dex felt the words in his bones. What the fuck.

Previous/ First / Next

[thesinglesjukebox]

ASHLEY O - ON A ROLL

[5.00]

It's Amnesty 2019! In which our writers choose singles from the year that we didn't get to. And what better way to get the ball rolling than with a song that's got something to say about pop music...

Joshua Lu: In the final episode of season five of Black Mirror, Miley Cyrus plays pop star Ashley O, whose desire to escape her contract leads her aunt to put her under a coma, which leads to two of her fans saving her, which leads to her performing "Head Like a Hole" at a night club, happy now that she's freed from the literal and metaphorical restraints that came with being a pop star. Undergirding the episode is "On a Roll," a remake of that same Nine Inch Nails song but made so overtly benign and bubbly that it becomes as unnerving as the original. Most of these unnerving aspects are probably intentional: the ambiguity behind lines like "'Cause I'm going down in history" or "I'm gonna get what I deserve," the distorted moans and cries buried in the instrumental, or the way the bass drops off at the start of the chorus, leaving Ashley O screaming motivational platitudes over an unfeeling beat. But there are so many parts that are equally unsettling yet don't come across as intentional -- were they really expecting us to hear "hey yeah whoa-oh" and not "hey I'm a hole," or is this mixup supposed to act as commentary on, say, perverse undertones in popular music? (The fact that the original song has "hole" in the same spot makes this mondegreen all the more suspect.) Are the dozen or so seconds of dead air at the end of the song just a consequence of a lazy audio engineer, or was this silence deliberately included to let the song's termination settle uncomfortably into nothingness? It's these parts of "On a Roll" that make it so fascinating -- not the rockist message of its origin, and especially not the corny, ham-fisted cracking screen in the music video -- so much so that even after streaming it for months, I can't tell how much of this song I'm supposed to enjoy, and how much I'm supposed to fear. [8]

Vikram Joseph: Like "Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too", the Black Mirror episode which birthed it, "On A Roll" serves as both escapist fun and a pointed facsimile of meticulously-constructed big-studio pop. Brooker and Reznor's four-part construction is unexpectedly good -- a cheerleader-chant of a chorus (surely intentionally written to, in turn, be wilfully misheard as "hey, I'm a hoe!" by gay twitter) sandwiched between big, melodic, reverberating synths in the pre- and post-chorus sections. Squeezing "achieving my goals!" into a pop chorus is worth an extra point, and also works as a sly joke about influencer culture's obsession with productivity. [7]

Alfred Soto: Imagine shouting "achieving my goals!" with less enthusiasm than an assistant vice president of human resources at a two-day retreat. At least "California Gurls" put the self-help gumption behind solid beats. [1]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: "On a Roll" was designed to be a hollow shell of a prototypical pop song grounding a Black Mirror episode satirising toxic music stan culture. And yet, contrary to the episode's whole point, the Gays™ have still found a way to make it the object of stan culture anyways! Frankly, I can see why: it's low-key a bop, the kind that burrows under your skin and slowly takes over your body until you're singing it all the time. I can't help but like it even though I know I'm not supposed to. Do we really have free will? [6]

Kayla Beardslee: Yas queen, I'm literally gagging. We love a thinly produced bop! New main pop girl Ashley O has done it again, constantly raising the bar for all of us who want to make basic pop that serves looks? eh vocals? I guess its story without ever impressing outside of its narrative context. We stan. Keep her in that coma so she can churn out more average, serviceable music for AO2! [5]

Natasha Genet Avery: Ashley O's Gaga impression had me in the first half, I'm not gonna lie. But Gaga would never waste a verse and bridge this good on that laughably staid three-note chorus. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: A fizzing, swaddled bass synth lopes around the black hole of drums that sucks down every other musical instrument, burying a thinning synth key patch pushing up and sinking while Miley scrapes it off the bottom of the ice cream pail. [3]

Tobi Tella: In the same vein as A Star Is Born, turns out executives trying to make empty, vapid pop music actually ends up slapping. It's a perfect pop parody, with a million meaningless hooks; the drawn out "oh honeyyy," the pre-chorus that has nothing to do with anything, and, of course, the chorus, which hits the cheesy pop vibe perfectly. Not to mention the fact that it's an interpolation of a hard metal song, everything about this is nonsensical yet amazing, and it's honestly probably better than anything Miley Cyrus has put out this year. [7]

Jackie Powell: Ashley O might have just performed my "I can beat burnout" theme song. While this track was released in mid-June, it's exactly what is needed to deal with the darker days of December. It's almost as if I'm visualizing that Rachel Bloom on a stage somewhere singing about burnout, but I'm not actually hearing a musical theater melody. It's one hundred percent pop. It's also sexier while still cheering me on. How's that for an anti-burnout fight song? It's also ironic that "Head Like a Hole" is lyrically so dystopian while "On a Roll" sonically and visually -- with its simple synths responsible for the track's chord progression and a purple wig and white bodysuit -- projects more of a utopian vibe. But as a song featured in Black Mirror, the choice to pay tribute to "Head Like A Hole" was more deliberate than not. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: As long as Nine Inch Nails have existed and yarled, people have observed, often intending to blow your minds, that they might Actually Be Pop. There were the band's early appearances on questionable proto-TRLs. There was that Sound on Sound interview about how Dave Ogilvie mixed "Call Me Maybe" like a NIN song, resulting in this (featuring, in the comments, one "DigitalPimp" marveling at how it sounded like something out of a Black Mirror episode, four years before "Rachel, Jack, and Ashley Too"). There was the weird spate of offhand references in media about and/or marketed to young, non-generally-industrial-listening girls, from Clarissa from Clarissa Explains It All to Cassie from Animorphs to the babies in A Visit From the Goon Squad who are sold future!NIN's hit "Ga Ga." There are the many real-life "Ga Ga"s, like this, this, or this by Devo, or this seasonally appropriate medley. And there is, of course, this deeply strange year 2019, in which Trent Reznor earned his first No. 1 hit with one "Old Town Road," and in which there was this. I'm not a Trent purist -- I'm too much of a Tori Amos fan for that -- but "On a Roll" misunderstands the medium. The track, at least, is done by actual pop producers, The Invisible Men, and thus sounds plausible, though it can't decide whether it wants to be "California Gurls" or Weeknd-produced-by-Max-Martin smooveness or whatever the hell that half-time prechorus or Can't Take Me Home faux-soul backing vocal are. But the lyrics are by Charlie Brooker, and though he nails the inane in-universe promotional bullshit, he doesn't understand songwriting. "Bow down before the one you serve" is a more plausible pop lyric than "I'm stoked on ambition and verve." One shamelessly plunders greed and S&M and melodrama and does so the way actual people talk. One is a thesis statement rather than a lyric, doesn't scan, and is finished by rhymezone.com-ing vocabulary that for the life of me, I cannot remember if any pop lyrics have used. It's not even a timely thesis; in cynical 2019, post-Madonna, post-Gaga, post-Eilish, hell, post-"7 Rings," a pop star is less likely to put out "Everything Is Awesome" jingle music than just cover "Head like a Hole." And indeed, "On a Roll" exists so Black Mirror can get a cathartic moment out of Ashley O singing the actual "Head Like a Hole," which sounds great, because by comparison what wouldn't? Trent says he's OK with it, but then we know his stance on what he'd do for money. [2]

Iain Mew: I was at the lower context end of the scale for my initial listens to "On a Roll." I haven't watched the Black Mirror episode; I was vaguely aware of a Nine Inch Nails link but not its form; I don't know "Head Like a Hole." In that context "On a Roll" sounded like an intermittently functioning pop song with some unusually scanning lyrics that ranged from awkward to witty to both. Listening to the Nine Inch Nails song afterwards brought it together in a different way, but "On a Roll" stood up without that at least as well as most of the high concept early-'00s mashups that it's the conceptual successor to. [6]

Katie Gill: Does this work more if you're canon-familiar? Because I get the joke: ha ha, we're going to turn Nine Inch Nails into a pop song as some sort of commentary for Charlie Brooker's Ham-Fisted Social Commentary Hour! But I've only watched one or two Black Mirror episodes, so I can't help but feel that I'm missing something here. Because if the joke is that this complete antithesis of a pop song is now turned into a pop song, I don't think it works. The lyrics are sheer beautiful banality, a 2010s take on the same joke Music and Lyrics made over ten years ago. But the pop instrumentation & reworking doesn't hide the fact that "Head Like a Hole" is not fundamentally built like a pop song. It's like going into a guest bedroom that was obviously once a storage attic with low ceilings and poor insulation: put on a new coat of paint and the bones still show through. Maybe I have to watch the episode in order to fully appreciate the joke. But then again, great examples of musical parody & homage stand wonderfully on their own without context. Why doesn't this? [5]

Alex Clifton: As a parody of manufactured pop, this is pretty good; unsurprisingly, I'm reminded of Hannah Montana's "Nobody's Perfect" with its aggressive positivity ("riding so high! achieving my goals!"). But I'm seen people refer to this as an "accidental banger" and that's overrating the song. It's serviceable, it's catchy enough to be in the background at a party, but if you're going to go for manufactured pop, go hard or go home. This just doesn't commit itself enough to the genre to meet my expectations. [4]

Will Adams: I've spent the better part of the decade railing against PC Music's uncanny valley pop and its purported inability to make satisfying commentary on pop music. Allow "On a Roll" to serve as my mea culpa. Clickable premise of Miley Cyrus covering Nine Inch Nails for a Black Mirror episode aside, "On a Roll" feels pointless. Especially when a pop version of "Head Like a Hole" already exists, deliberately cynical pop by mainstream artists already exists, and your chorus hinges on a line as fatally clunky as "I'm stoked on ambition and verve." [3]

David Moore: A few months ago I was doing my weekly Spotify trawl and came across what sounded like a long-delayed aftershock of self-titled-era Taylor Swift. I was amused to see that this artist was Taylor Acorn, suggesting an elaborate algorithm designed to generate successive Taylor Swift clones named according to a variation on the NATO alphabet: Taylor Acorn, Taylor Bravo, Taylor Charlie. And this in turn gave me an idea for a television pilot with this exact premise, which I wrote ten to twenty minutes worth of before it fell flat. The problem, as it usually is with these sorts of things, is that the music needs to be good, and it can't just conjure its goodness from the perspicacity of its commentary. And of course most bizzer behind-the-curtain shows fail even at this basic commentary level -- the easiest part! -- and are doomed to be not only bad both in show and in soundtrack, but a little insulting, too. So it's a pleasure, if a mild one, to hear those exhausting try-hards over at Black Mirror let a decent pop song just kind of sit there. I didn't see the episode, but from what I can tell Miley Cyrus is supposed to be a bit of a cipher, which of course she isn't at all -- and funnily enough it makes this song do almost the opposite of what it's supposed to; it acts instead as a kind of metacommentary on how hard it is to make Miley Cyrus sound cool and competent. What, Taylor Acorn wasn't available? [6]

Michael Hong: It's nice to see Hannah Montana aim for something that fits directly into the image of the pop machine. "On the Roll" lodges itself firmly in your head while attempting to stimulate your pleasure receptors, rather than forcing all its energy to generate the cycle's "new authentic me," which ends up barely being a reinvention but more of an embarrassing reminder that Miley Cyrus is once again, back at it. Next time maybe she can aim for something good. [2]

Kylo Nocom: As satire? Boring, but not unexpectedly so! A good rule of thumb is that blanket parodies of pop music are never smart and rarely funny. Just last year A Star Is Born and Vox Lux soundtracked rockist paranoia with gratingly obvious piss-takes: "Why Did You Do That?" had a title that doubled as a lament for Ally's career; "Hologram (Smoke and Mirrors)" drove accusations of artifice that seemed directed equally at an imagined lover and Celeste herself. "On a Roll" suffers the same issues through less obvious signaling, being the commodification of an anti-establishment song, yet even here the writers can't resist an ironic nod. An uncomfortably extended silence following the last "I'm gonna get what I deserve" leaves room for interpretation: is this about Ashley exiting the pop machine as a break into authentic living, or about her suffering as retribution for being part of the pop machine? Who knows! The song is otherwise fantastic, and it being fantastic fucking sucks. Interpolating Nine Inch Nails wholesale puts Miley in her most enjoyable mode: anthemic rock-adjacent joy, some of the best she's done since her Hollywood Records era. Even if Black Mirror's idea of future pop is suspiciously like 2017, with tropical percussion breaks from "New Rules" and the pulses from "Sorry Not Sorry," the arrangement of "On a Roll" suggests actual, realized verve. The charm of the song concerns; in the context of the show itself it's the result of exploitation, and outside its context it's packaged with tacky viral marketing bullshit. But I can't resist. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I was prepared to give this some begrudgingly high score based on the weird, feverish week in the early summer where I listened to this on loop. But on the return visit, the appeal of "On a Roll" fades away with its novelty. All that remains is the general structure of "Head Like A Hole," which ties that undeniable melody to a much more compelling creep of a beat, and a slightly-above-average vocal performance from Miley. With every year of this nostalgia-focused decade I have grown wearier and wearier of this sort of reincarnation pop, yesterday's pleasures repackaged winkingly for an audience that sees the artlessness, the lack of aura, as the point. There's no way to listen to this sincerely, and I'm no longer amused by irony's mirror. [3]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[itsworn]

A Family Tradition: 1972 Plymouth Duster 340

Following the deprivation and hardship experienced during World War II, Americans basked in the excesses of the 1950s and the auto industry certainly reflected this. As the decade progressed, cars got larger, heavier, and increasingly ornate. When the 1950s turned into the ‘60s however, a funny thing happened – Detroit’s Big Three got into the low cost, low frills, compact car game. For model year 1960 Ford introduced the Falcon, GM launched its Corvair, and Chrylser unleased the Valiant.

The Valiant was restyled twice in its ten-year lifespan, first in 1963 and then again in ’67. During that second refresh the character of the platform was dramatically changed, with the elimination of the sportier two-door hardtop and convertible body styles, leaving only the four-door Valiant. While the Valiant-based Barracuda was offered as a convertible or fastback with a good range of performance options, it had grown larger, heavier, and sufficiently expensive to create a significant void in Plymouth’s offerings. Beginning in 1970 this void would be filled by the Duster, which shared its structure and front end sheet metal with Valiant, but looked dramatically different owing to its semi-fastback design and dramatically curved side glass.

With the optional 275-horsepower 340 V8 a relatively lightweight Duster offered very spirited performance. Contemporary road tests saw 0-60 mph times in a little over six seconds and the standing quarter mile in the mid-14 seconds range. Add in compelling styling and cargo carrying capacity, and a starting price of only $2,172 for a base model and $2,547 for a 340-powered car and it’s obvious why Plymouth sold an impressive 217,192 Dusters in 1970, and an astounding 1,332,846 cars in total from 1970-76.

In spite of their attributes however, most people did not enjoy long-term love affairs with their Dusters. Time and technology moved on, countless examples succumbed to rust, and, as most were owned by young people, they suffered the usual indignities that come with youthful exuberance (my sister sent at least three Dusters over the rainbow bridge back in the day). But as with every rule, there are exceptions, and the striking ’72 featured here is one of them. Mike Cummings bought this car thirty-two years ago and though there have been some bumps in the road he remains in love with it to this day.

Cummings grew up in a military family and learned to wrench on the family Mopars from his father. “I learned basic auto mechanics from my father,” he recalls, “who learned from his father. My grandfather was a manager for Armory Chrysler in Albany, New York and my father worked part time at a service garage. My brother and I would watch and help do simple repairs on our 1969 Plymouth Fury III and 1973 Dodge Dart Swinger.”

When it came time for Cummings’ first car he found a 1968 383 Super Bee but his father wasn’t keen on him starting off with a big block, so he ultimately ended up with a 318-powered 1975 Road Runner, which he drove all through high school. After high school he wanted to serve his country, as is traditional in his family, so he joined the U.S. Navy and trained in advanced electronics. After being sent by the Navy to Newport, Rhode Island he was in need of another car and naturally was on the hunt for a Mopar.

“A friend of mine told me about a 1972 340 Duster for sale in front of Williams Auto Salvage Yard in Schenectady, New York for $600 with about 52,000 miles on it,” he remembers. “The car was in rough shape, but for the money it was a good deal, so I bought it.”

Cummings began modifying the car shortly after buying it, and quickly came to regret the changes he made. “The first modification to the car was the addition of a glass, pop-up style sunroof. That was a big mistake. The sunroof never sealed correctly and I regretted altering the original headliner. I then tried to install a 440 with an automatic transmission. It never really ran right so I put the original motor back in, and decided to keep the car an original Formal Black, numbers-matching, 340 4-speed Duster.”

Cummings drove the car for about a year and a half until being assigned to Pensacola, Florida for C-School training, which led to him putting the car into storage for about two years. After completing the training, and marrying his high school sweetheart, he went back to Rhode Island and took the Duster out of storage. “My first task was to rebuild the engine in our spare room as we had no garage living on the Navy base. The short block was given to Master Machinist Gary Askins and Ori Askins at Napa in Saratoga Springs, New York. They installed a sleeve and turned the original steel forged crankshaft. The heads were reconditioned with hardened seats to run super unleaded.”

In 1991, after leaving the Navy, Cummings and his wife moved back to Saratoga Springs, New York, bought their first house, which needed some work, and increased the size of the family with the addition of two children. These major life changes often mean the end of the fun car but Cummings never even thought about selling his Duster. Instead, he simply put it aside for some time, while continuing to accumulate parts for the restoration he planned to eventually do. After about five years he was able to devote enough time and attention to the car to get the ball rolling.

“I started the main body work on the car and over the next two years replaced both rear quarters and the driver’s side floor pan. The trunk was another issue as it didn’t even exist. After these parts where replaced it was time to prep the rest of the car for epoxy primer and PPG single-stage acrylic urethane paint. Four coats were applied in my garage in a homemade paint booth. The process of wet sanding the paint began and then I finished up with a multi-stage polish process. I then started on the interior, which included a new carpet and front seat covers from Legendary Auto Interiors and putting the horrible glass pop up sunroof back in the car. It was the summer of 2000 and I was headed to my first car show since restoring the car. The show was at Clifton Park Dodge World. I received a second place trophy in the A-Body class!”

Over the next several years Cummings devoted most of his time to his family but continued to work on the car sporadically, as time allowed. “I located a 1970 T/A 340 six pack manifold with carburetors for $200. The set needed a major overhaul which was completed with assistance from Chicago Carburetors. The motor needed to be modified so the six pack could breathe properly, so I had the block bored 0.060-inch over and the heads opened up to accept 2.02-inch intake valves. The cam was upgraded with a mild COMP Cams grind. My brother-in-law Rick helped me reassemble the engine. I also acquired an Air Grabber induction setup from a 1969 Dodge Super Bee and fabricated a new hood by replacing my original under hood support with the one from a Dodge Super Bee Air Grabber hood to mount the induction system that sits over the six-pack air cleaner. I added power steering from another ’72 Duster that I found at the Englishtown Mopar show, and installed front disc brakes from another ’72 Duster that I got from a good friend, “Mopar Dan” in Lebanon Valley, New York. I started looking for a factory style sunroof from a ’72 or ’73 Duster and finally found one from a ’73 in Wisconsin. Once the sunroof arrived, I spent the next three weeks preparing the roof to receive the new opening. It was a nice addition to the car after the first attempt. This lead to the second painting of the car around June of 2007.”

Following the second complete repaint Cummings continued to drive and enjoy the car, but there were a few areas he was not satisfied with, so in 2015 he decided to go through the whole thing once again. “The most recent time I painted the car I used PPG’s Shop-Line base coat/clear coat. It turned out to be my best paint job mostly because of the advice from my father-in-law who use to paint cars. This time extra care was given to the engine compartment. By March 2016 the paint was finished and in May I was at my first show of the year. When June came around the family and I took the car to the Mopar Madness show in Liverpool, New York. Of the thirteen or so cars in my class I was awarded 1st place for the first time in 30 years of owning the car.”

In addition to showing the car, Cummings continues to drive it frequently. Both activities bring him a great deal of happiness, but the relationships the Duster plays a role in is what gives him the most satisfaction. “Throughout the years that I’ve owned the car it has brought me in contact with many people who have become good friends, and I have a wonderful wife and two incredible children who have supported my hobby from day one. Reminiscent of my childhood, my children have watched and helped over the years with repairing and maintaining the Duster, and that is really the best part of owning the car!”

  Mopar Muscle Magazine Fast Facts

1972 Plymouth Duster Mike Cummings, Ganesvoort, NY

ENGINE Type: V-8 349.6 cid (stock 340 with cylinders bored .060” over) Bore x stroke: 4.10” (bore) x 3.31” (stroke) Block: Stock cast 340 cid iron Rotating assembly: Stock 340 forged crank, stock connecting rods, Speed-Pro forged aluminum pistons Compression: 10.5:1 Cylinder heads: Factory J heads Camshaft: Comp Cams Machine work done by Gary & Ori Askins at NAPA Auto Parts in Saratoga Springs, NY Induction: 1970 T/A Challenger six pack with Holley 2300 series carburetors and six pack air cleaner Oiling system: Stock oil pump and oil pan Exhaust: Stock exhaust manifolds, pipes and mufflers Ignition: Chrysler electronic ignition, MSD coil Cooling: Stock radiator and viscous-drive clutch fan Fuel: Stock pump and lines Engine built by: Mike Cummings

DRIVETRAIN Transmission: 1972 A-833 Chrysler 4-speed, gear ratios of 2.44:1, 1.77:1, 1.34:1, and 1.0:1 Shifter: Hurst Clutch: Ram Driveshaft: Stock driveshaft Rear End: Stock Chrysler 8-3/4” Sure-Grip limited slip differential with 3.55:1 ring and pinion, stock axles

CHASSIS Construction: Welded steel unit-body Front suspension: Independent, unequal length upper and lower control arms with 0.87” torsion bars, 0.88” anti-roll bar, hydraulic tube shock absorbers over gas-charged Rear suspension: Hotchkiss type, asymmetrical leaf springs, hydraulic tube shock absorbers Steering: Stock recirculating ball with hydraulic power assist and fixed displacement hydraulic power steering pump, 3.5 turns lock-to-lock, 37.7’ turning circle Front brakes: Stock Chrysler disc Rear brakes: Stock Chrysler 10” x 2.5” drum

WHEELS & TIRES Wheels: Stock Chrysler Rallye wheels, 14”x7” Front Tires: BF Goodrich Radial T/A, P235/60R14 Rear Tires: BF Goodrich Radial T/A, P235/60R14

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[robot-radar]

2017 Audi A5 Review

Fantastic and satisfying, the 2017 Audi A5 is accessible as an auto, convertible, and vivacious four-entryway. Quattro all-wheel drive is standard for amazing execution in all conditions. The auto and convertible utilize a 220-hp 2.0-liter four-chamber with a six-speed manual; an eight-speed modified is discretionary. The Sport back sports a 2.0-liter turbo four making 252 torque with a seven-speed twofold handle altered. Those scanning for more muscle should truly consider moving to the consistent S5 or Bahn-eating up RS5.

There remain a couple among us who decay to go to the store wearing activity pants or to eat up out in T-shirts and baseball tops. Individuals who brush their hair before observing the doorbell, notwithstanding when they know it’s basically one more vinyl-siding dealer. For such individuals—call them the nattily dressed—cars, for example, the Audi A5 are made.

Fashioner Walter de ‘Silva, an Italian who is difficult to envision wearing athletic shorts to the workplace, once called the 2017 Audi A5 that appeared in 2008 the most great auto he’d made amidst his residency at Audi. He was not by any extend of the creative ability alone in such path for his own particular work, since he was in this manner lifted to head of diagram for the whole Volkswagen Group.

De ‘Silva surrendered last November (supplanted by past Porsche styling manager Michael Mauer) yet not before he had, in all likelihood, at any rate obviously ensured the system for the all-new A5 wanting 2018. It mirrors a not-settling what-ain’t-broke way to deal with oversee styling, maybe a plenitude of thusly, despite the way that it will ride on another stage and utilize fresher drivetrain equipment.

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2017 Audi A5 Black

2017 Audi A5 Inside

2017 Audi A5 Black 1

2017 Audi A5 2.0t Sport

2017 Audi A5 Cabriolet

2017 Audi A5 Coupe

2017 Audi A5 Inside Design and Special Features

Until the going with A5 fulfills the United States in the chief half of 2017, in any case, merchants still have the essential, de ‘Silva-plot A5. It has experienced a few overhauls and updates (LED lights and such), conveyed a convertible that some find altogether all the all the all the more engaging, and now does not have the primary’s V-6 motor, yet your key A5 auto remains a joy eight years after we at first watched it.

It would seem that those coats that the nattily dressed hang in cedar storage rooms for a critical long time since they’ll never leave outline. Audi needs the new one basically the same—yet solely fitted with trendier lapels and unequivocally pulverized wrinkles to address the test postured by the in like way especially orchestrated BMW 4-game-plan and Mercedes-Benz C-class auto. This A5 still will look mind blowing in your carport after the credit is paid off.

The A5 is the range level release, leaving genuine execution targets to the supercharged V-6–powered S5. (The V-8–powered, track-superb RS5 is away until further notice.) Those who can evade more critical power and are basically examining for a ravishing suit on wheels to obliterate for a night will welcome that the A5 begins at $41,425 and can connect with $50,000 or something to that impact.

Notwithstanding, when Audi discloses to us the last creation keep running of this model is at hazard to “constrained accessibility,” we estimate the base costly autos will be scarcest.

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2017 Audi A5 Red

2017 Audi A5 Interior

2017 Audi A5 Convertible

2017 Audi A5 Powertrains and Performance

The Volkswagen Group’s 2.0-liter turbocharged inline-four as utilized as a bit of the A5 has been surveyed at 220 drive since 2014, or nine steeds more than it could gloat in 2010 when it associated as a lower-cost other contrasting option to the underlying 3.2-liter V-6. Straightforwardly the four-chamber is the rule motor in the A5. It mates to either a six-speed manual or an eight-speed tweaked transmission.

We’ve all around revered the manual model, yet for this goodbye street test we had the altered. Make that the “latest” adjusted, since the A5’s past transmission offerings have merged a standard six-speed tweaked (Tiptronic), Audi’s seven-speed twofold handle altered (S tronic), and even the scorned “six-speed” CVT (Multitronic) for a couple of years.

Current turbocharged four-barrels being what they are, this 2.0-liter more than suffices for reliably responsibility and long street trips with a sidekick who likes to get in contact in style. The altered moves as snappy and easily as it does in different Audis, which is to express it’s a grand transmission on the off chance that you should swear off our favored three-pedal setup.

Our tests demonstrate the A5 can get to 60 mph from rest in 6.1 seconds, or 0.1 second snappier than did the 2010 manual release with the in any case, chop down power rating. That time was recorded utilizing the new auto’s composed dispatch control highlight, which is chill on the likelihood that you wind up at a near to drag strip.

Regular drivers are in all likelihood not going to discover much use for it; our 7.5-second “moving begin” 5-to-60-mph time is conclusive of standard driving and is just 0.1 second behind the 241-hp Lexus RC yet trails the BMW 428i xDrive by 1.1 second.

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2017 Audi A5 MSRP

2017 Audi A5 Price

2017 Audi A5 Rear

Still, there’s an impressive measure of torque at low rpm, and the short 30-to-50-mph and 50-to-70-mph passing conditions (just a tenth or two behind the BMW’s) mean drivers will feel without question about this force auto’s capacity to proceed onto a quick interstate or shoot around slower activity on the byways.

Brakes tuned for superhighway duty stay one of the credits that pull in individuals to German-check vehicles, and the A5 absolutely passes on wishes, keeping from 70 mph in just 149 feet and showing essentially slight cloud over rehashed utilize. Grippe Pirelli P Zero tires on 19-inch wheels help, as well.

They besides add to the A5’s phenomenal skidpad figure of 0.95 g (the 2010 dealt with a to some degree chop down 0.91 g). This is reflected in this present reality with simple, even fun, trips around cloverleaf interstate slants and on bowed two-way streets.

Both braking and cornering may be by a wide edge better if Audi by some methods happened than understand how to pare a section of the A5’s 3713 pounds of check weight it’s decently the regard one pays for the security of Quattro all-wheel drive, yet the more present BMW is 33 pounds lighter with everything taken into account wheel-drive shape. Audi says it will utilize more aluminum to shave mass for 2017 yet, as in the new A4 (which got lighter), the four-chamber’s motor piece will even now be heavier solid metal.

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2017 Audi A5 S Line

2017 Audi A5 Sportback

2017 Audi A5 Review

2017 Audi A5

2017 Audi A5 Sedan

2017 Audi A5 TDI

2017 Audi A5 Parts and Options

Uncommon materials flourish inside the lodge where decisions meld bursting junk or walnut trim. The endeavored auto, a Premium Plus model in Suzuka Gray metallic paint ($575), had the piano-dull enhances that run with its S Line Competition Plus bundle ($3250), which in like way brought the heretofore said 19-inch bargains, a diminish main event, a three-talked level base coordinating wheel with move paddles, cleaned diminish outside trim, a back lip spoiler, and entertainment arranges in cowhide with micro suede seating surfaces.

It additionally has different gatekeepers than the base model. In this framework it arrives and no more important reason for the A5 scale, where just the deck lid recognizing evidence recalls that it apparently from the S5, and the $52,400 as-endeavored regard pounds up on the range cost of that all the all the more blasting entertainer.

Supporters to that essential worry in like way melded the $3150 Technology bundle (a 7.0-inch TFT shading screen with course and MMI controller, stopping help with back camera, Audi Side Assist way change help, and Bluetooth) and the $950 Sport bundle (show suspension with 0.8-inch-chop down ride stature, stiffer springs and dampers, and Audi Drive Select Controls). Nearby being down a pile of drive, it also drove much like the delightful S5.

At this cost, you’re no place close bespoke auto fitting. Regardless you’re purchasing off the rack, yet it’s originator stamp garments. Picking this dynamic model would mean settling for less power (the new A5 will utilize the A4’s 252-hp 2.0-liter), a creating design for the liberally trimmed lodge, and no entry to the most recent pushed success degrees of progress.

A large portion of the last parts won’t come standard even on the new auto, regardless, and for the general population who are likely going to keep up a key separation from that segment of the choices list, the 2016 model offers an enormous measure of prizes both as a driving machine and a touch of moving figure. We’d not fight with any individual who picked the BMW or Mercedes choices, yet the 2017 Audi A5 still strikes our eye as a stunning thing to consider.

2017 Audi A5 – It has a head turning style that’s as powerful in motion as it is in standstill, with its sport design and engaging performance, it’s the double threat that can’t help but spark attention and envy too 2017 Audi A5 Review Fantastic and satisfying, the 2017 Audi A5 is accessible as an auto, convertible, and vivacious four-entryway.

[fadingfartconnoisseur]

For the Love of God, Don’t Sew a Canadian Flag on Your Backpack

  There are so many travel urban legends out there. The belief that dressing up and being polite at check-in will get you a free upgrade to business class. The Paris restaurant where the food is so good, you’ll cry, and prices haven’t changed since the 1980s. The mysterious Thai island that no “tourists” know about.

But the biggest myth of all? The crowds of American travelers with Canadian flag patches sewn to their backpacks.

Image: Venture Vancouver

Do these travelers actually exist?

When I brought up the subject of traveling as an American during a Trump presidency, I was shocked at how many of my readers talked about Americans masquerading as Canadians with a Canadian flag patch sewn on their backpacks.

“I’m doing that before I travel next!” several of them claimed.

I have never seen an American with a Canadian flag patch. Ever.

Hell, it’s rare to see any kind of patch sewn on a backpack nowadays.

That said, I’ve heard story after story of these travelers existing. You’ve probably heard them, too. But here’s the thing — these stories almost always seem to be secondhand. A few of them have actually seen them, sure, but most people have only heard of Americans doing this and can’t recall a specific point when they saw it with their own eyes.

Because of this, I seriously doubt that most of these people who claim to have seen Americans pretending to be Canadian have actually seen them.

It’s like saying, “Oh yeah, I heard tons of people saw Mike Pence on Grindr the night of the inauguration.” If you hear it often enough, you start to believe you saw it with your own eyes.

But what hurt me was hearing how many of my American readers were eager to start pretending to be Canadian on the road. I don’t want anyone to do that, and I don’t think it does us any favors.

Traveling Under Obama vs. Traveling Under Bush

Now, granted, most of my long-term international travels have been during the Obama Administration, and generally speaking, President Obama is highly respected around the world.

But I’ve also traveled extensively during the Bush Administration, albeit mostly in Europe. I was in Italy during his reelection in 2004. And he was far less respected around the world.

(Even when I arrived in France in 2001, pre-9/11, as soon as I met my host family, they immediately wanted to talk about Bush. One of the first things the father said to me was “Il est cowboy!“)

When Bush was president, I would constantly field questions about his policies, especially around the war in Iraq.

By contrast, during the Obama years, criticism of America was far rarer. Most of it tended to focus on healthcare and gun violence. Obama was rarely criticized, and if he was, it was usually about drone strikes.

With a new era under Donald Trump, it’s going to be similar to the Bush years.

That’s the reason that lots of Americans want to be undercover Canadians. They want to escape the constant questions. They don’t want to be shamed. I get it, but that’s not the right course of action.

Why Pretending to be a Canadian a Bad Idea

Canada is a fantastic country. Gorgeous landscapes, very friendly people, delicious food, astonishing diversity. Plus, the Canadian dollar is weak and it’s a bargain to visit right now. I haven’t visited Canada in a long time, but I hope to visit at least two different regions this year. In short, if you’re Canadian, you’re very lucky.

That said, as lovely as it is, you shouldn’t lie and say you’re Canadian. Why?

Most people are happy to meet Americans. Because most people are nice, period. If you treat people with kindness, they will very likely treat you with kindness in return. And some countries, like Kosovo, welcome Americans with joyful enthusiasm!

Most people understand that governments do not always represent people. If people were judged based on the worst decisions of their governments, everybody would hate everyone.

Most people understand that Trump is deeply unpopular in America. He entered the presidency with the lowest ratings in 40 years; national and international news coverage has reflected this unpopularity. The 2016 election was a major international story. People understand that it was a contentious and close election, and that many people are not happy with Trump being president.

Canadians are everywhere. Any actual Canadian will see through your act the moment they ask, “Where are you from?” and realize you have no knowledge of Canadian geography or expressions.

Canada is also more prominent on the international stage today. Canadian politics used to rarely make international headlines, but that all changed with the election of Justin Trudeau. Suddenly Canadian political news started going viral, like the reveal of Trudeau’s remarkably diverse Cabinet. Non-Canadians may want to talk about Trudeau and if you don’t even know what party he’s from, you’re not going to look good.

If you lie to people initially, then tell the truth once you trust them, you are going to look like an idiot. They may be hurt; they may roll their eyes. They may say, “What’s the big deal?” Save yourself the grief.

Use This As an Opportunity

But most importantly, owning your Americanness is vital to creating understanding around the world. If you’re against Donald Trump, let people know why. Show people that not everyone in America thinks that Trump is good for America. (And hell, if you’re a Trump fan, do the same thing! Share your point of view.)

It’s good to plan out what you want to say ahead of time. Here’s what I plan to say:

“I didn’t vote for Trump. I campaigned and volunteered for Hillary, for Obama before her, and I’ve been a liberal my whole life. I think Trump’s policies are bad for the country and his election is an embarrassment.

“I run my own business and was only able to do so because of Obamacare. Some of my biggest worries are that Obamacare will be repealed without a replacement, leaving me and 20 million Americans without healthcare; that new Supreme Court justices will overturn Roe v. Wade and women won’t have access to safe and legal abortions; that more black Americans will be murdered by the police; that my friends’ children with autism will lose the right to be educated in public schools; that the threat of climate change will worsen and be ignored; and that Trump’s pettiness and fixation on revenge will anger the wrong leader and get us into another war.

“But my biggest worry is how often Trump and his team lie, even about things that can be disproved instantly, and how his supporters will believe the lies because everything they disagree with is ‘fake news.’ I don’t know how to fight this.

“I’m not the only person who feels this way — 3.7 million people marched against Trump in the US alone. 1 out of every 100 Americans protested — that is insane. There were protests on seven continents. Yes, including Antarctica!

“Personally, I don’t think Trump will make it through four years. I think he going to get overwhelmed and go back to New York, letting Pence do all the work while he retains the title of President. And nobody in Congress will do a thing about it.”

That’s my story. Feel free to use any part of it you’d like — but put your own spin on it.

How to Talk to People

When Bush was president, the question I would get the most while traveling was, “Why? Why would anyone vote for him in the first place? Why would anyone reelect him?!”

Expect to get similar questions with Trump. Here are some talking points if you need them:

Why did Trump win?

Lots of Americans felt like they weren’t being heard in Washington and that their lives weren’t getting better, and the best way to enact change was to elect an outsider. Many of these people were white working class voters in regions like the Rust Belt (Wisconsin-Michigan-Ohio-Pennsylvania) where automation has killed the manufacturing industry and lots of people are unemployed or underemployed. Trump spoke directly to these voters throughout his campaign.

Trump also ran a campaign with racially charged rhetoric. Many people found it refreshing that a candidate made it okay to be “not politically correct” anymore. The KKK endorsed him and celebrated his election.

There are other reasons. Some Republicans will vote for any Republican, no matter how vile. Republicans also tend to have more single-issue voters than Democrats. These voters will always support the anti-choice or pro-gun candidate, both of which Trump was.

Then there were many people who didn’t like Hillary. Many people painted her and Trump as equally bad options. Many supporters of Bernie Sanders thought that he should have been the Democratic candidate and they chose to vote third party or not at all.

And then there was the murkiness of the election — Russia’s interference, as well as FBI Director James Comey releasing damaging but ultimately meaningless information about Clinton shortly before the election.

Believe me, that’s just the tip of the iceberg as to why Trump won. Political scientists will be engrossed in the 2016 election for generations.

But why didn’t people like Obama?

Lots of people are racist. Far more than would admit to it. This is why Obama had to be the perfect candidate with a perfect family. Ta-Nehisi Coates said it best: “To be president, [Obama] had to be scholarly, intelligent, president of the Harvard Law Review, the product of some of our greatest educational institutions, capable of talking to two different worlds…Donald Trump had to be rich and white.”

Racist people want to destroy every one of Obama’s accomplishments. They even love aspects of Obamacare, like allowing people with pre-existing conditions to get health insurance; they just don’t like that Obama created it. As Van Jones said on election night, “This was a whitelash.”

Some people’s health insurance became more expensive when Obamacare went into effect. Obamacare gave 20 million people health insurance and reduced costs for most people, but it wasn’t perfect for everyone, and people whose costs went up were angry.

While much of the country recovered significantly from the 2008 recession when Obama took office, urban areas tended to bounce back more strongly than rural areas and many people in rural areas thought their lives were the same or worse since 2008.

But why didn’t Hillary win if she got nearly 3 million more votes?

The Electoral College awards votes per state based on population, and rural states get slightly more votes. It was originally created to give slave states more votes without letting the slaves vote themselves; it was also created to prevent a demagogue from taking office just in case the people elected a madman (that worked out terrifically). The Electoral College usually lines up with the popular vote, but sometimes it doesn’t. Bush lost the popular vote but won the Electoral College in 2000.

Hillary won by a huge margin in solidly blue states like California, where a win was predetermined; Trump won by a very slim margin in swing states like Michigan, where a win was vital.

The Electoral College is outdated and needs to go. But with a Republican-controlled government, the chances of that happening anytime soon are slim.

The One Exception

The only time that I would recommend lying about being American is if doing so would keep you safe in an otherwise dangerous situation. There may be a time when it’s best to lie low and hide your nationality until you’re in a safer position.

Just remember:

Not wanting to talk about Donald Trump again is not a dangerous situation.

Thinking that someone might make fun of you is not a dangerous situation.

But if you somehow get swept into an anti-American demonstration on the street, yes, that’s when it’s time to lie and say you’re Canadian. But you’re unlikely to fall into a situation like that unless you go looking for it. And it’s best to get yourself the fuck away rather than spend time chatting.

And One Last Caveat…

If anything, Trump has shown us that he will act recklessly at best, vindictively at worst. He’s repeatedly shown a disdain for facts, an obsession with those who have wronged him, and that he cares more about Putin than the majority of Americans who did not vote for him.

So it’s very likely that something bad could happen under a president like this. War. And worse. Things so bad I don’t even want to type them.

If that happens, all bets are off. Save yourselves.

The photos in this post were taken during the Women’s March in New York City, where I was among 400,000 women and allies warning the new administration not to cut off our rights. Thank you to everyone who marched. Remember to be politically active, hold your representatives accountable, and take concentrated actions every week — we’re going to need all the momentum we can get.

Americans, would you ever pretend to be Canadian? Or do you think it’s a bad idea? What’s going to happen over the next four years? Share away!

via Travel Blogs http://ift.tt/2j09zS7

[itsworn]

This Custom 1966 Box Nova built to move out!

Chevy lover Mitchell Laucks had every intentions of building a radical street/strip ’66 Nova with the help of his hot rod lovin’ father, Bruce. They even went as far as locating a sweet starting point for the build, which the twosome dug out of long-term hibernation and then towed back home to their garage in Fredericksburg, Pennsylvania. But their plans changed dramatically when Mitchell’s mom, Lisa, got an eyeful of this needy Chevy compact. She saw the potential for her own brazen, hot-rodded muscle ride hiding deep down inside the beat-down Box Nova.

“This one’s gonna be mine … right boys?” She firmly asked, adding that “it’s not really a question” inflection on top of it. Mitchell and Bruce were stone silent. With that query the father/son team knew that they were in big trouble. Neither answering yes nor no here would ever work in their favor when dealing with Mama Laucks. They both now had to face the fact that they just might have just lost their new toy to the queen of the household.

But hey, all was not lost … yet. You gotta look at the bright side here. Even though Mama “poached” the Nova for herself, the Chevy was still in their house. And who knows … the boys might just be just a “pretty please” away from getting the keys, and the chance to drive her new hot rod. You’d figure that was a definite possibility, especially since Mitchell and Bruce were going to do all the labor on her new “super car” anyway. So the threesome joined together, battened down, and came up with a bulletproof plan to take this basic Box Nova and turn it into a Chevy that rocks.

The Nova was found in Manheim, Pennsylvania, not far from their home. It was a little less than a complete car. “It was missing the whole front end, but we didn’t need that stuff anyway,” states Mitchell. And that’s the truth, since the plan was to make this ride into a wild custom with power to spare and not some meticulous 100-point OEM restoration.

When they checked out the Nova before purchasing, Mitchell used a magnet to scan the panels. Their “high tech” imaging system showed that the car was pretty much rust free. Good deal they thought. However, once the car was stripped they found that newer metal was welded right over the old rusty panels. The last “sheetmetal technicians” didn’t even try to remove them at all. Mitchell realizes now that he might have to upgrade his rust analyzing equipment. So the boys were behind the eight ball from the start. But that didn’t deter them at all, as they knew Mama was expecting this ride to be the hottest Chevy compact this side of the Mighty Muddy Mississippi.

So Mitchell and Bruce soon found themselves elbows deep in a near total restoration of the Nova’s sheetmetal. The job included replacing the roof skin, the quarter-panels, a complete set of floors (including the trunk), sourcing a new cowl-induction hood, and, to top it off, welding a myriad of patches throughout the body. It seems like the rust was the only thing holding this little Chevy together. But they forged on.

When they made their way to the front end, a Martz Chassis bolt-on front clip was purchased and installed, which brought a major improvement to the overall strength and look of the semi-unibody construction. Once the front end was set up, the boys continued with the theme by adding a Martz Chassis bolt-in rear suspension with a four-link setup, and installed a healthy Ford 9-inch rear. Homemade round tube subframe connectors were fabricated in house and used to tie the chassis and body all together. Before moving on, the rear wheelwells were mini-tubbed in preparation for some big meats.

Soon the boys had to start thinking about what powerplant would propel this rocket ship down the strip for Mama, or whomever else that could wrestle the keys out of her hands for a drive. “First thought was to build a traditional small-block, but dad thought the Chevrolet Performance LSA would be badass,” says Mitchell. Well guess what? Father knows best, and so the duo bought a Connect & Cruise LSA engine package complete with a 4L85E transmission.

The insertion into the Nova engine bay was way easy, but packaging the engine cleanly was the real trick here. The duo spent plenty of time cleaning up plumbing, wiring, and hiding intercooler hoses. The latter being run through the firewall, under the dash, and under the fender to the tank and heat exchanger in the front of the engine bay. They added a Cadillac CTS engine cover for an offbeat modern touch. Church Boys headers remove the spent gasses and send them through a pair of DynoMax Ultra Flo mufflers.

The differential is stuffed with 3.70 gears, which spin the big rubber out back. To get this ride down the road, 18×10 Budnik Shotgun G wheels shod in 285/35/18 Continental tires do the damage. Up front, 18×7 rims wrapped in 215/45/18 skins keep this ride pointed in the right direction. Wilwood disc brakes, with 12-inch rotors up front and 11-inch in the rear work with a Wilwood master and booster to do the stopping on this wild Chevy.

Mitchell did all the finish bodywork and prep himself. When it came to the paint, he did that, too. He sprayed the DuPont Hot Hues Purple Rhapsody on the Nova’s flanks right there in the family garage. “When Mama picked this color, my dad and I tried to convince her to try something else, but we lost out. But now we realize how awesome the color is,” he gladly states. Good job Mama, you did well. The car’s color and finish are judged to be an undisputed knock out in our book.

Mitchell wanted the underside of this Nova to be as nice as the top side, so he made sure that he gave the belly a little love as well. He sprayed the undercarriage with SEM bed liner tinted to match the Chevy’s new body color. To finish off the chassis, he skinned all the suspension parts in Sterling Gray metallic, and then gave them a few coats of satin clear to give them some extra toughness.

The interior was next on the list. Mama made her demands and the boys carried them out to perfection. First off, a Dakota Digital dash was installed for a more modern look at the vitals. To take control of the climate in this fast but comfy Chevy, Dakota Digital HVAC controls were used in conjunction with the Vintage Air A/C system. When it came to the overall look and feel of the Nova’s new cockpit, well, that was left up to Chris McClintock and Corey Lyba over at Bux Customs in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. “These two guys really made the car what it is and totally blew my expectations out of the water,” states Mitchell. They pieced together one beautiful interior, using black and gray leather to accent the wild purple paint, while repurposing buckets out of a ’11 Buick Regal. Overall, the results are just stunning to say the least.

Mitchell and Bruce finished off the car, adding the subtle touches that are rarely noticed, but important nonetheless. Stainless steel brake and fuel lines were plumbed in, and a stainless Rick’s Hot Rod Shop gas tank was added as well. This choice ride sends go juice by way of a CTS-V fuel pump out back. Billet hood hinges add some bling under the hood.

After four years of hard labor, the car was finally ready for testing and tuning. The twosome racked up many hours on the Nova, with Mitchell working 2-3 hours on it every day after doing his regular 12-14 hour shift. When the car was finished, they had Dennis Wheet troubleshoot, fix some minor issues, and then tune the car. They were quite happy with the 500 rear-wheel-horsepower that the LSA made. And Mama … well, she was downright giddy.

Today, the Nova sees plenty of road time. And yes, Mama has been good to the guys, letting them partake in the fun whenever they like. “I built this car, and I drive this car often,” states Mitchell. So don’t feel sorry for them because they lost this one to the queen. There’s always another one for the taking, and maybe Mama will let the guys keep the next one. Maybe.

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