#he always looks like he’s a second away from being the maddest he’s ever been at anything ever

[kiwanopie]

my favorite thing about him is how easy he looks to piss off

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - part 12 - Its goin’ Down

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“Don’t-ow! Don’t bite me!” Mal huffed, wrangling the mini dragon form of her mother and placing her back into the pencil case she had brought her in, placing the top back on and securing it with tape, making sure her mother wouldn’t accidentally, or purposely, be knocked out of the case and be let loose. Her mother hissed at her from inside the box and Mal hissed back, smirking at the sudden stop of noise. “Now would you rather scrounge for bugs and water? Or be pampered in your nicely decorated tank back in the dorms?” when no other hiss came from the box Mal nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

She turned to Evie, who nodded and grabbed Mal's backpack filled with the glove smoke bombs “Ready?” Mal asked, walking over to Evie and making sure they had everything before they left the hideout for the last time.

“Ready.” Mal took a deep breath to calm her nerves, there were so many things to be stressed over. Harry, the boys making it back in time, what if Uma figured out the wand was fake before they got Ben back, would they get out of the wharf in time before Uma discovered the wand was fake? So many worries, no time to worry about them “Let's go” Mal nodded and quickly followed after Evie out of the hideout and down the stairs, holding her mother close to her chest.

God, she really hoped that everything would go according to plan.

-

Ben shifted his sleeping leg a bit, trying to get rid of the static feeling that was buzzing through it. But he couldn’t move much thanks to the rope that secured him to the mast. He glanced at Uma who stood to his right, overlooking the docks waiting for Mal and the others.

Suddenly a hand slammed up next to his head, the chitter of a monkey following it. Davy stepped around the mast, getting into Ben's face as he gave a crooked grin. ‘I wonder if Harry would be the one to do this if (y/n) had never convinced me to invite him too’ Ben thought, slightly wishing Harry was still on the isle, if only because he’d rather have Harry get into his face than this fucker.

“So, what's the use of being king if you’re like this now huh?” Davy teased, Jack the monkey screeching on his shoulder as he patted Ben’s shoulder and moved around the mast. Ben rolled his eyes and looked forward, doing his best to ignore the annoying pirate.

He appeared on Bens other side and started to speak, but stopped as Uma walked up and smacked his shoulder, sitting in front of Ben “Leave it Davy, we don’t want damaged goods” Davy glared at Uma for a split second before resting on the rails of the ship behind him, crossing his arms impatiently.

“you better hope your girlfriend comes through” Uma droned, narrowing her eyes at ben.

Ben's eyes stung for a moment and he looked away “She's not my girlfriend anymore” he muttered, his brow twitching as Davy and Jack started to laugh. Uma glared at the two and nodded her head towards the rest of her crew.

“Leave us alone Davy” the first mate glared at his captain and grabbed at Ben, harshly bunching up his jacket before walking towards the crew, muttering curses to himself.

Ben looked back at Uma, watching her as she leaned on her legs and glared up at him “I get-I get that you don’t deserve this” Ben tried, frowning a bit as Uma laughed and leaned back on her hands.

“this…” she glared back up at him, a snarl on her lips “this isle is a prison thanks to your father!” Ben swallowed hard, remembering (y/n) and Harry’s insistence on getting more isle kids off the isle. “And don’t pretend to look out for me.” Uma’s eyes glazed over, and she pushed her hair back. Ben's eyes being drawn to the black and red bead bracelet with a simple hook charm hanging from it “Because no one’s looking out for me… it's just me.”

Ben furrowed his brows, no one? Then what about Harry and Gil’s constant babble about the girl in front of him? Were they nobody now? “so, this isn't your mother's plan?” Uma scoffed and rolled her eyes “Isn't that her necklace?”

Uma gave a sarcastic smile to Ben “My mom doesn’t care about me either” she glanced off “well, not unless you need someone for the night shift”

“ouch,” Ben winced, once again remembering (y/n)’s speech about how the villains definitely didn’t treat their kids as they should. Uma glared up at him.

“I don’t need your pity” she snapped, gritting her teeth.

Ben shook his head “no, you certainly don’t. you’re very resourceful.” he muttered softly, once more looking around him at the ship and docks, he looked back at Uma, whose eyes had slightly softened and a smile played on the edge of her lips “I don’t see you tied up.”

Uma laughed, staring at Ben In slight awe as she expected the king to be snooty and attempt to trash talk her, but he was only kind. “alright, so let’s trash talk Mal” Uma tried, her brow raising as Ben shook his head slightly and looked into her eyes.

“I’d rather talk about you” he pushed, hope growing in his chest as Uma laughed again and took a step back.

“mmm, funny, and a gentleman. I really hope I don’t have to feed you to the fishes.”  Ben tried to follow her as she turned and hiked her boot up onto the raised platform. But was stopped by the rope.

“you don’t!” he pleaded “set me free and we’ll go back together!” Uma stopped, turning back to him with wide eyes.

“oh, so now I get an invite” her smirk dropped, rage setting into her eyes again “gee I wonder why” Ben swallowed, man he really didn’t know how to talk to someone like Uma, who knew what she wanted and had no hesitation.  She smacked her hand next to his head, once more glaring at him. “when you brought Mal, Evie, Carlos, Jay…Harry and Gil” she stopped for a moment, her eyes glazing over again at the thought of her “boys” “to Auradon��that was the maddest I’ve ever been…and believe me, I've been plenty mad” she patted his cheek and turned again, messing with her shell necklace.

“I never thought…no-that sounds-“ he racked his brain for something to say, hell maybe something (y/n) would say! (y/n) somehow always knew what to say, and either calm a dangerous situation, or end it then and there with just her words. “I’m sorry, that it's been so long” Uma glanced back at him in slight confusion at his words.

“the plan was to start with four, then it became six so we could get more kids off in each group. But I got so busy being king, that sounds lame, and the council hasn’t budged on the vote to continue the program…I’m so sorry Uma…you were supposed to be the first of the next group to come…but I've been foolish and let it all slip my mind” He stared at Uma with a pleading look “But help me fix my mistakes, set me free, and you can come with us to Auradon. You’re a leader Uma, so am I, you know what's best for the kids still here and how to help the isle…come to Auradon and be part of the solution” when Uma just continued to stare at him, Ben tried another tactic. “Harry and Gil-” at the mention of her “friends” Uma’s eyes flashed. But Ben paid no heed. “-have been telling me for months to get you off, but-this is going to sound really bad-but I stupidly ignored them…I’m sorry” When Ben finally looked at Uma properly, he froze, the softness that was once there was gone, only rage to be seen.

“You ain't a good liar beasty boy, if they really had been talking about me all this time, I would have been off this rock months ago, I know a trick when I see one.” She grabbed his shirt and growled in his face “Don’t you ever, try to use them against me ever again…as I said to Malsy, they.are.dead.to.me.” Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief…that wasn’t what he was expecting.

Uma released his shirt and called Davy over, picking up her shell necklace and giving Ben a sharp grin “Let's see what this puppy can do eh?”

-

Mal tapped her thumb anxiously on the temp mini dragon carrier as the limo finally pulled up next to the tunnel connected to Uma’s ship less than a minute to noon. Lonnie hopped out of the front seat, slightly surprising Mal and Evie before they remembered (y/n) had said to let her come along as an extra hand.

“Lonnie!” Mal gasped in relief, holding out her free hand for a hug as Lonnie jogged over to her.

“(y/n) apparently said to bring me; so here I am!” Lonnie nervously chuckled, wrapping her arms around Mal for a split second before pulling back.

“Thank Hades she did.” Mal sighed, biting her lip as Jay and Carlos rounded the back of the limo and pulled out a carrier full of R.O.A.R swords.

“Welcome to the isle, it’s good to see you” Evie gave a quick hug to Lonnie before turning to the boys, watching as Dude trotted behind Carlos who handed the wand to Mal as she made grabby hands at it.

“Oh! Lemme see!” she turned it over in her hands, wincing slightly at the thin line in the side of the wand, a telltale sign of 3d printing ��Good job, let’s hope she doesn’t figure out it’s a fake before we have Ben.” she handed back to Carlos who pulled out his phone and showed the time.

“It's noon” Jay muttered, nodding as Mal looked around at them.

“Okay, we ready?” Evie lifted Mal's bag filled with the smoke bombs and nodded. “Let's do this” she turned to walk through the tunnel, stopping as Evie gave her a look and pointed at her chest. Mal looked down and scoffed at herself as the pencil case holding her mother was still in a death grip.

She turned and ran to the limo, pulling open the door, setting her mother on the back dash, and muttering to her; “Stay” she slammed the door closed and walked back to the tunnel “Now; let's do this”

Mal was the first to step through the tunnel, scrunching her nose a bit as the smell of rotten fish and wood flooded her senses. She didn’t miss that smell that was for sure.

Carlos hid the fake wand in his jacket and picked Dude up, whispering the plan to him “Don’t talk until Mal tells you too, okay?”

“Got it” Dude whispered back, lifting a paw and batting at Carlos’ hand in comfort, Carlos smiled and rubbed Dude’s head, following his friends through the tunnel and walking onto the docks.

A whistle came from the high point of the ship, a shorter male with dark hair grinning down at them “Captain! They’re here!!!”

Mal watched as Davy shoved Ben across the deck, a maniac grin on his face as he grabbed Ben’s arms and twisted them up, Ben slightly yelping at the pain that flashed up his arms. “Welcome!” he yelled, his smile twitching down as Uma took front and center with a wide grin.

“Finally!!!” she cackled, shimmying her body a bit as Mal walked up in front of the gangplank leading to the ship. Carlos quickly set Dude down a bit of ways away from the main area of the docks, putting his finger to his lips for a split moment before walking behind Mal on the main docks in front of the ship.

(I ain’t writing its goin’ down so just watch the music vid and either take Harrys rap out or give it to Uma…oh and mentally remove Harry n Gil from the music vid T_T)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvZt2n9PL80

Uma flipped her blade in her hands, watching as Mal held up the wand and started walking towards her, her green eyes flickering between Uma and Ben. “Hold up” Uma hummed, holding her hand up and shaking her head “mmm. Too easy” Mal stared at her in slight shock. “why don’t you take it for a test drive” Mal glanced back at her friends for a moment before realizing this was exactly why (y/n) had said to bring Dude along. “We wanna see it work!” the pirates behind Uma cackled and taunted, yelling out for a show.

Mal shrugged in agreement “Smart” Uma blinked at that, Mal had never called her smart. Mal turned to Dude and lifted the wand, taking a deep breath, and quickly coming up with a spell on the fly “Although it seems absurd/turn your bark into a word” she willed her eyes to glow to sell the effect and waved the wand, forcing herself not to wince as the headache returned.

Dude just stared at her for a moment, the pirates getting antsy the longer he stayed silent. Mal rolled her eyes, turned to Uma with a weary smirk, and barked out; “Talk. Dog”

“Treat first, Tricks later” Mal closed her eyes in relief as the pirates burst out into laughter. “Yo dudes anyone got some bacon…cookies?...Come on I’m starving here!”

“He acts like I don’t feed him.” Carlos huffed at Dude, shushing him with a wave of his hand. Uma laughed and licked her lips, holding out her hand to Mal.

“Give me the wand!” Mal furrowed her brows and gestured to Ben.

“Give me Ben!” the two girls stared at each other for a few moments before Uma broke her gaze and looked to Davy who was holding Ben close to the edge of the plank and nearly hanging him over the water.

“Davy, bring him over” Davy growled a bit and pulled Ben back, reluctantly shoving Ben over to Uma. A cruel smirk slowly grew on his face as he thought he could take the wand after Uma used it to break the barrier and use it against her. He wiped the smirk off his face as Bonnie gave him an odd look and shoved ben to his knees next to Uma.

Mal gasped slightly at the rough treatment of Ben, her eye twitching a bit as Uma pouted at her and held out her hand for the wand, Mal holding out her hand for Ben in turn. “Cut him loose Davy” Uma hummed, keeping her eyes on Mal and not seeing the sneer that Davy gave her.

Mal noticed and furrowed her brows, throughout the standoff Davy had been constantly looking from Uma to the wand, and glaring as if he was planning something.

Too bad. If he was planning to overthrow Uma, he’d be out of luck.

Davy cut Ben loose and Ben grabbed Mal's hand, stopping himself from getting up as Uma clamped her hand onto his arm. Uma held out her hand for the wand again and Mal passed it to her, pulling up Ben as soon as Uma released him and pushed him back towards the tunnel. “Ben” Mal hissed through her teeth, trying to push back a hesitate Ben back “Ben go now”

Uma turned back to her celebrating crew and gathered them around her, holding the wand up to the sky “Okay okay okay!” Mal glanced back, clicking her tongue as she watched Davy continue to watch the wand like a hawk. Mal pushed back Ben again, trying to convey that there was nothing to worry about since the wand was fake without notifying Uma, but he refused to move. “By the power of the sea/Tear it down and set us free!”

After a few moments of tense silence, Uma looked back down at the wand, her breath becoming quick and patchy “NO!” she snapped the wand on her knee, Mal finally being able to push Ben back as he realized the wand was fake “YOU DO NOT GET TO WIN EVERY TIME!” Uma screamed, gritting her teeth in anger as Jay dumped over a barrel and tossed the R.O.A.R fencing swords to his friends. “GET THEM!”

The pirates on the main deck flinched back as a cloud of blue smoke suddenly appeared and blinded them. Another red and orange cloud of smoke bursting out on the platforms above the deck to distract the pirates there.

Evie grabbed an extra sword and called out to Ben, tossing the sword to him. He swiftly caught it and turned back to the pirates, squaring his shoulders and getting ready for a fight “Where’s (y/n), Harry, and Gil?!” Ben yelled, looking back over his shoulder.

Evie shrugged and started running up the docks “I have no clue but I hope they get here soon!”

Mal stood at the front end of the gangplank, watching as Uma rubbed the smoke from her eyes and glared at her, yelling out for her crew to attack. “GO!”  Mal glanced up and grit her teeth as the pirates above the deck swung down to the docks and landed in front of her friends, drawing their swords and swinging at them.

“Where’s (y/n) when you need her” Mal huffed, gripping onto the sword and hoping she retained enough from 6 months ago from when she last used a sword. She stepped to the side as Uma’s pirates ran at her, swinging their swords widely in the air in hopes of nicking her.

Mal mentally cursed herself as her ankle wobbled a bit, why the fuck did she wear these clunky ass heels? They were no good for sword fighting. Mal ducked and dodged the pirates, blocking one's swing and using the pirate's balance against him, and sending him into the raging waters below.

Everything happened in an instant.

Behind her, Evie ducked under a sword and blocked several stabs and swings, grunting as the blades clashed together in a fierce dance.

Lonnie jumped down from one of the higher platforms and smacked her sword against a blonde pirate’s as he tried to help his fellow crew member back onto the docks.

Ben twisted around and pushed Gabe to the floor, laughing as adrenaline pumped through his body.

Mal twisted around the last pirate and turned, moving her arm behind her for balance as Uma stepped forward and drew her sword, flipping it in her hand as Mal taunted her by making a ‘come at me’ motion.

Carlos blocked and parried Drey’s quick attacks, keeping his ears open to be ready to jump in to help his friends at any moment.

Davy hopped up to the highest part of the docks, smirking at Jay as he stepped in front of him. He grabbed Jack by his front paws and set him on the rails, tapping at the monkeys back to get him moving “Hello traitor~” Davy purred, drawing his sword and instantly rushing at Jay, swinging down his blade at Jay’s head only for it to be stopped by Jay lifting his sword and easily blocking Davy's attack.

Uma swung her sword at Mal's torso, Mal quickly moving her blade in the way of the swing and pushing Uma’s back towards her. ‘Thank fuck for muscle memory’ Mal thought in relief, knowing that if she hadn’t retained it Uma would have definitely defeated her in seconds flat. But Uma was still an excellent fighter, and she was gaining the upper hand fast, if Mal didn’t do something now she would lose. The quick clash of swords rang in Mal’s ears as at one point they hit so hard her entire arm quivered from the intensity.

Mal tried to do what she had seen Harry and (y/n) do multiple times against each other and slip her blade between the hilt and pommel of Uma’s sword to disarm her, but she had made it too obvious and Uma easily batted away and swung at her leg’s. Mal jumped back with a yelp and hurried to block another swing before it connected with her neck.

Jay parried another swing from Davy and spun around him, kicking out the back of Davy's legs and pushing him to the ground. Davy let out a snarl and jumped back up, swinging his sword wildly through the air.

Gabe yelled as he swung down from the high platforms of the ship and landed in front of Ben, grinning as he drew his sword “What's up Ben?!”

Ben shrugged and flipped his sword “Oh nothing much just kicking pirate butt” Gabe laughed and swung, a quick flurry of blocks and parries being dished out from both sides.

Uma swung wildly at Mal, gasping a bit in surprise as Mal stepped out of the way from a stab and grabbed Uma’s arm, throwing Uma behind her and spinning around to face her again, swords clashing once more. Mal yelped in pain as Uma hit her sword down and slashed her blade across her cheek. Mal winched and closed her left eye, already feeling heat gather around the new cut and blood drip down her face.

Evie lifted her sword above her head as the pirate swung down at her, she pushed her arms up and forced his blade away, making him stumble back. she moved to the side and slammed her foot into his, the pirate yelped and let go of his sword, hopping on one foot as he grabbed his stomped one. Evie grinned and pushed him over, spinning around to face Jonas who gave a war cry as he attempted to scare her. She just raised her brow and swung at him, thankful that (y/n) had made her learn to swordfight during the last couple of months, without it she would be dead weight for the fight.

The pirate Lonnie was fighting finally let go of his crewmate to fight her head-on, he swung at her and “cornered” her against the dock post. Lonnie quickly disarmed him, but being slightly bored, she tossed her sword up and held it by the blade, pointing the handle at the pirate who gave her a confused look “Here! Take mine.” when he looked at her for confirmation and she nodded, he grinned and gladly took the blade.

He swung once, twice, three times, and by the fourth Lonnie lifted herself up on the railings and kicked him hard in the head. The pirate tumbled to the ground and went limp. Lonnie let out a small bout of laughter and picked up her sword again, running up the docks to fight some more pirates.

“Duuuude” Dude laughed, watching the battle with wide eyes “If only I had opposable thumbs” he stood on his paws and ran down the tunnel as Carlos looked at him and nodded his head at it “I never get to have any fun”

Uma spun low to the ground, trying to swipe at Mal's legs, her grin turned sour as Mal blocked the swing and grabbed her arms, pulling her close and smiling down at her “Is it just me, or are you kinda having fun too?” Mal laughed, squeaking a bit as Uma growled and shoved her away towards the docks. Mal slowly backed up and was soon off the gangplank as she continued to clash swords with Uma.

Jay blocked an elbow punched from Davy and grabbed his arm, locking it to his chest and throwing Davy to the floor again.

Evie smirked as Jonas backed up for a moment, she brought her left hand up behind her and pointed her toe “Let’s dance~” Jonas swung first and Evie quickly parried, they two hitting their swords against the others quickly. Jonas swung at Evie's feet but she jumped back and trapped his blade between hers and her boot.

Gabe was somehow able to get the upper hand against Ben and pushed him to the floor of the docks, grinning down at him as the sharp end of Ben's blade drew closer to his neck. Carlos jumped behind them and smacked his sword against Gabe's butt, he turned and swiped at Carlos, widening his eyes a bit as Carlos easily held up against him. “Ben go!” Ben ducked under their crossed blades and started to run towards the tunnel. Carlos pushed off Gabe and smiled as he tumbled to the ground.

Evie pushed down Jonas and grabbed his red scarf “Nice scarf~” she pulled it off and shoved Jonas down through the railings with her foot. “It's mine now~!”  Ben hopped up onto the deck with her and Evie spun around to see two pirates run in front of her, another two standing in front of Ben. “Ben!” the two quickly defended against the four pirates.

Jay dodged out of the way of Davy's foot and jumped over a swipe of his blade. He blocked a couple of hard swings from Davy and finally got a grip on his arm. He pulled Davy towards him, ducked under his torso, and lifted him off of his feet. Jay crouched a bit and pushed up, releasing Davy and sending him to the lower set of docks.

Davy hit the floor with a loud crash, the teen laying there for a moment as pain flared up his back “Ow” he whined, cracking open his eyes to see Jay grinning down at him then run towards the tunnel.

-

You glanced at Gil wincing slightly at the passed-out Harry in his arms. You, Harriet, and Gil finally made it to the old garage, the sound of clashing swords and yelling echoing through the old pile tunnel.

You growled a bit, turning to the limo and pulling open the back car door, groaning a bit “Why the fuck did Jay lock it?!” you yelled, punching the window. Moments later Lonnie and Jay came running from the tunnel. Jay stopped; his eyes wide as he saw the unconscious form of Harry in Gil's arms. “What happened to him?!” Jay yelled, running up to Gil and placing his hand on Harry's forehead.

“James Hook is what happened” you snarled, Lonnie and Jay looking at you with wide-eyes as they had never heard you speak with such malice before “I already took care of the bastard and now I need to deal with another one, is Davy there?” you gestured to the battle beyond the tunnel, Jay slowly nodding as he grabbed the keys from his thigh bag and unlocked the car, helping Gil get Harry into the limo.

“Yeah-he’s-what’s he got to do with it?” Jay asked, flinching back as you glared at him.

“HE is the one who told James Harry was on the isle, I have a bone to pick with that fucker” you grabbed onto Harry’s sword and walked toward the tunnel “Harriet, get in the Limo” she raised a brow, looking at Lonnie then glancing at her baby brother being gently laid out on the long side seat of the limo.

“No” you turned, watching Harriet for a moment before she continued “I still have work to do, I’ll stay here and make sure everything stays in order, and protect my little sister and the twins until you can get shit moving. Okay?” you shook your head and took your foot off the tunnel and walked over to her, holding up your hand.

“I’ll be sure to get you and your sister off the isle first, along with the smee twins, I promise” Harriet smiled and clasped her hand with yours.

“I’m holding you too that, thank you for taking care of my brother for me” you smiled and squeezed Harriet's hand before releasing it and walking back to the tunnel, giving her a thumbs-up as she yelled out at the last moment “And save some of that traitor for me! He needs to learn what happens when you mess with Harry”

You smirked to yourself and unhooked the hook from your belt, rolling the weapon in your hands.

It's time for revenge.

-

Davy flashed his eyes between Uma and Ben, smirking as a devious thought came to mind. Kill the king and take control. If he killed Ben, he would gain the popularity he needed to rise above the ranks. Yes, Uma would be the one to have originally captured him, but after he killed the king? Oh, he would take place as top dog.

And then he would take place as captain after he took care of Uma. He would rule the world one day, but first the isle. And while he was at it, he would take out the purple imp as well.

Ben turned and saw him walking towards him with his eyes wild with mania, the king stumbled back for a moment, watching as Davy lifted his sword and prepared to swing down on Ben.

Davy flinched back as a blade was suddenly swung at him, sticking into the ladder between him and Ben, he quickly followed down the scarlet jacket covered arm and his eyes widened, looking into your pissed off (e/c) ones.

“Hiya!” you sang, your smile dropping as you started to swing Harry’s sword at Davy, the boy hardly able to keep up with your pace.

“(y/n)!” Ben yelled in relief, the other vks noticing and doing the same. Uma turned and her jaw dropped, noticing the spray-painted hook on the back of your coat.

“you-“ she snarled, glancing back from you to Mal and shaking her head. She needed to keep focus, and continued to fight Mal.

You took the hook and slammed it into Davy's blade, throwing him off his balance and trapping him against the rails. Ben took the chance and leaned over your shoulder and tickled under Davy's chin, taunting him with a baby voice. “goochy goochy goo~” Ben cooed, laughing as you gave him a side-eye and swiped at Davy's cheek with the hook, you grinned at the cut that instantly appeared and Davys wide-eyed look. Ben turned and blocked the swing of Gonzo who suddenly appeared behind him.

Davy pushed you off of him and stumbled back, yelping as you easily and quickly parried his swings. You took a quick step forward and slid your blade through the hilt of his sword, disarming him and spinning on your heel, slamming your foot into his chest and sending him back. You jumped on him and slashed Harry’s sword across his chest.

He quickly held his arms up and screamed as Harry’s sword sliced a good inch into his arms, blood pouring from the lacerations.

Some of the crew turned at that and gasped as you swung back up and stabbed into his left shoulder “This-“ you twisted the blade, a maniacal smile spreading on your lips “-is for Harry” you pulled it out and stabbed into his other shoulder, making him scream again “This!” you pulled it back out “is for me!” you sliced up near his face, creating a red line from his chin to his brow “And this! Is for everything else!”

“Carlos! Smoke bomb!” you turned and cursed, watching as Carlos knocked one of the pirates off the docks and whipped Mal’s bag around, pulling out one of the smoke bombs and tossing it to Evie.

You looked back down at Davy and grinned “I went easy on you, but Harriet-“ his eyes widened in fear, only just realizing that you had found out everything. “won't.”

You spun around and slid under Ben's arm, arching up with your left hand and slamming the hook into the hilt of Gonzo’S sword and disarming him, using your momentum to slam your shoulder into his sternum and knock him off his feet.

“Evie now!” you screamed, squinting to reduce the risk of the smoke getting in your eyes. Evie threw the bomb to the docks, purple smoke filling the area. “Ben go!” Ben bolted off after Evie as she pulled at his arm. Mal close behind them as she finally pushed Uma off of her and into the smoke.

You pushed at Mal's back to get her off the bridge and turned, making eye contact with Uma as you sheathed Harry's sword and pushed the bridge, jumping a bit as it fell back with a loud crash. Uma growled, her eyes drifting to the hook in your left hand and shaking her head.

What's my name?

What's my name?

What's my name?!

Say it nooooow.

You stared at Uma with sad eyes as she screamed at you, her eyes only showing rage and betrayal.

“(y/n)!!!” Gil yelled from the other side. You gave Uma an apologetic look and turned, not knowing as you did the hook symbol on your back flashed in the light, making Uma scream again and push her crew members out of her way as she raced to take the other way around to get to you.

You grabbed Gil's hand with your free one and hopped down onto the ground of the musty alley, running into the car after Mal and Ben and waiting for Gil to get in before you slammed the door closed. The Limo took off in a sudden start and drove quickly down the alleys of the isle. Mal took a deep breath as she flopped back into her seat, before suddenly sitting up and scrambling to look in her backpack. “My spell book!” she screeched turning to look out of the back window and thumping her head against the leather “shit”

Ben stared at Mal as she closed her eyes and took deep breaths, she opened them and turned to look at him, her eyes swimming with worry. “Are you okay Ben?” she asked, ignoring the large cut on her cheek that was still bleeding. He gave a comforting smile and reached out, cupping her chin and inspecting the cut.

“Are you okay?” Mal smiled and nodded, taking Ben's arm and pulling it off her cheek.

“It's just a cut, I’ll be fine…I’m sorry I dragged us into this mess” she sighed, leaning heavily against her seat “If it wasn’t for my dumb brain none of this would have happened”

“Well, it did one good thing” Ben muttered, looking out the window and watching the isle buildings go by “I got to see the isle for what it really is…Uma helped me see that”

Mal lifted her head a bit “…She's good at making people see the truth” she finally sighed, flopping forward and leaning against Ben’s arm “So what now?”

“Well for starters; remember last time when I said I save you next time? Yeah, same thing” Mal snorted and rubbed her forehead against his arm.

“And as I said last time, let's not let there be a next time”

“I’m all for this re-bonding cute shit but can we do it later?” you snapped, rubbing your thumb against Harry's bruised face. Mal gasped as she finally realized Harry was in the limo and dove forward to sit on the floor with you.

“What happened to him!? Where was he?!” Mal hovered her hands over Harry’s arms, her eyes burning slightly at the sight of the dark and bloody bruises all over him.

“James Hook” you snarled, the others, minus Gil, looking at you with wide eyes as malice once more filled your voice “that’s where Harry was, and luckily Gil, Harriet, her crew, and I made it in time before anything really bad happened to him” Mal sighed in slight relief, while it was scary that James had Harry, none of his clients ever came to take payment. “Do you know any healing spells off the top of your head?” Mal licked her lips, trying to rack through her brain to remember any type of healing spell in her spell book. Finally, she shook her head.

“No, my mother never wrote any spells in the book, and if there were any, they were scribbled over by her…I don’t know any” you scoffed and smacked her thigh, making her jump a bit.

“Then make one up! It's not the book that’s magic it's you!” Mal paused, before smacking her forehead and nodding. “Yep, sorry, my brain is still catching up to everything” she looked up at the front and saw the barrier coming closer “Just-wait till after we cross the barrier?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against Gil's leg who was sitting next to Harry’s head. “Duh?”

Everyone shivered as the limo passed through the barrier, Mal's eyes glowing for a moment as her magic was once more released. She wiggled her arms to get used to the feeling of her magic again and turned to Harry, her eyes glowing again.

“take these wounds, blue and black/take the pain, gone in a blink”

Harry's body glowed a slight golden purple, and you slumped in relief as the bruises and cuts on Harry's body slowly disappeared until it was as if nothing had happened to him.

You sobbed in relief and sat up, wrapping your arms around his head and neck and pressing your face against his “Thank fuck” you sniffed, pulling back a bit as Harry's lashes fluttered against your cheek as he woke up.

“Love?” he muttered, his eyes drifting around the car and relaxing as he only saw his friends “I’m-wha-“

“Uma took Ben for the wand, we got Ben back, and we’re on the bridge now heading home” you quickly explained, shuffling closer to him and tightening your grip on him as he leaned closer to you and wrapped his arms around your upper torso “You’re safe”

Harry breathed in your scent, burying his face in your hair and nearly falling asleep again. His hands brushed against the leather of your coat and he pulled back a bit, pulling at the lapels of the jacket and smiling. “Yer wearing meh jacket” you looked down and started to take it off, stopping as Harry shook his head, pulling the coat back over your shoulders “No, keep it, it suits yeh” you smiled and leaned forward, bonking your head against his.

Harry looked up, smiling at Gil who was crying “Hey bud” he whispered, grunting a bit as Gil leaned down and gave Harry a tight hug “okay, yeah, hug it out” you sat up on your knees and curled your arms around his torso, laying your head on his chest and taking a deep breath. Harry smiled and pushed his head into Gil’s grabbing your hand with his and squeezing it.

Evie and Carlos smiled at each other and leaned back into their seats, happy that the stressful part of the day was finally over.

Mal got up from the floor and sat back down next to ben, closing her eyes, and decided to get in a power nap for the hour it would take to get back to the school.

Ben leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes, the two soon falling asleep.

Evie and Carlos slumped against each other and passed out, Lonnie glancing back and cooing “so cute” she smiled at you, Harry, and Gil.

Harry was halfway curled up on Gil's lap, his head on Gil's thigh and one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders holding your hand. Gil's head was now leaning back against the seat and was lightly snoring, one of his arms on Harry's chest with Harry's shirt tightly bunched in his fist. You were still curled up on the floor, your head resting in the crook of Harry's neck and one of your arms wrapped around his shoulder as the other was pressed against your chest to hold Harry's hand.

“I wish I had my phone on me” Lonnie whispered, turning back to the front and resting her feet on the dash. Jay looked up at the rearview mirror, smiling as he looked at his friends.

All his friends were safe now, his job was complete.

-

Davy sat up with a wince, glaring down at the deep cuts on his arms. He yelped a bit as he touched his face “That’s going to scar” he muttered.

He froze as heavy footsteps appeared from behind. He slowly turned around, his eyes widening as he looked into the flashing red eyes of Harriet Hook.

“You’re dead” was all she said, smirking as a dark spot on Davy's pants started to appear.

“Parlay?” Davy squeaked, screaming as Harriet swung her sword at his face.

-end of part 12-

There It is! Part 12! The core four + Ben, Harry, Gil, reader, and Lonnie are off the isle and heading back home safe and sound! Again, if you forgot Dude's voice is now Beast Boy from teen titans because I hate the actual voice the VC gave him even though he apparently can do a good “teen” voice that would have suited Dude better. Also, READER GOT SOM FUKIN PAYBACK FOR HARRY ON DAVY I know she didn’t finish him off but come on, Harriet deserves a shot at him eh?

And Mals spell that she used to heal Harry was one @sephiralorange​ and I created together after she tried to find a healing spell in the “Mals spell books” books and only found a healing potion. I hope it works lol. Also, I think this has been one of my longest fic parts in a long time, 22 pages and 6763 words! Anyway part 13 coming soon, and the Vks will be back in Auradon finally!

oh! fake screenshot i made for the “hiya!” part!

(y/n) is modeled after me

permtagist!

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @musicarose​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @verboetoperee​

@imtryingthisout​ @rintheemolion​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​

@descendantsobsessed​

taglist

@thesailbells​ @beccad10x​

[zan-the-second]

Day 7: Favorite Underrated Relationship

Sanzang, Wujing, and Bailong-centric, but also kinda Sanzang being a proud dad to his disciples

The flames of the campfire crackled, it's warmth barely enough to keep Sanzang's shivers away. He adjusted the blankets that clung on his thin frame, careful not to wake Bailong, whose head was on his lap, peacefully asleep.

He absentmindedly stroke the horse's mane, listening to the soft chirps of crickets and cicadas, to the quiet humming of the cold autumn wind. He relished in the serenity of the moment, knowing that when his disciples came back, it will vanish in a snap.

As if on cue, he heard heavy footsteps on its way to their camp. He doesn't need to look to know that it's his youngest disciple.

Wujing settled beside him, slumping so he can rest his head on the monk's shoulders.

"Elder Brother and Second Brother are arguing again." the river demon huffed, though a hint of amusement flashed on his eyes.

The monk chuckled, shaking his head. It was not really a surprise, those two always somehow get in an argument with each other, irritating and taunting each other—like actual brothers.

He stares at the campfire, his eyes filled with adoration and hope for his disciples. They've come so far, been through so much, and they're learning, they're growing to the individuals he knew they can be, and he is so so terribly proud of them.

Sounds of not-quite-hushed bickering approached, distracting him from his thoughts. He turned to see his two older disciples shouting at each other, Bajie's face red with anger and Wukong sporting that smug grin of him.

He stifled a laugh, trying not to avoid waking up the other two(Wujing fell asleep leaning on him, how he wasn't squashed under the weight is a mystery).

The fire burned low, almost making it impossible for him to see his surroundings. But, despite the lack of sight, he felt safe. With the sounds of Wukong and Bajie's pointless argument, with Bailong's soft whines as he slept, with Wujing's weight pressed at his side.

Ironic isn't it? How he felt safe while being surrounded by the maddest of demons. There were times where he would wish that this journey would finally come to a close, his body aches to be back to the East, to the place he called home for so long. But his heart was content, here, in the wilderness, with the most childish disciples he ever had to teach, but undoubtedly the ones he was most proud of.

He knows that deep down, he doesn't want this journey to end.

[tayliviaspeace]

Day 3 of Analysing Taylor in Quarantine

Day 3: the last great american dynasty [tlgad]

1 sentence summary: tlgad is a song that can be understood as a song about how our lives are all intertwined with people we have never met.

"Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny Her saltbox house on the coast took her mind off St. Louis Bill was the heir to the Standard Oil name and money And the town said, "How did a middle-class divorcée do it?" The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it "Holiday House" Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out"

This is a real story about Rebekah Harkness. Something bad must have happened in St Louis, or something that needs to be forgotten. I read a bit about Rebekah before analysing this song. Bill is her second husband, and since this happened in the 1940s, people were very sexist. No one understood how a woman who had been married and divorced, got married a second time and to someone extremely rich. People with old money, or who have grown up with money, always look down on those who recently became wealthy. People with new money spend it in a more extravagant manner and less subtly, which makes those who have grown up with it look down on them, since people with old money may spend it in a more 'classy' manner. Holiday House is Taylor's current Rhode Island Residence. It is a hugeeeeeeee mansion, said to have 8 kitchens and 21 bedrooms. The Harknesses knew how to throw great parties, like Taylor, but because they were mostly around people with old money, there was criticism of it. Bill might have had a heart condition, and prior to his death, he had had a heart attack the year before too. People needed someone to blame for his death, and even though she was in no way responsible for the death of her husband, people blamed Rebekah, as she was different to everyone else and a woman. The song is already showing sexism and highlighting the message that sexism is stupid, irrational and needs to stop.

"And they said "There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything""

The people blamed Rebekah and basically hate her for her husband dying. She was someone new in their community, and without a man, which made the town people hate her more. They had a certain way of life that they were used to, and she came and 'ruined' things. But she was being herself, and she was doing things that she wanted. She wasn't living her life to fulfil society's expectations of her. That is a similarity between Taylor and Rebekah. They both to an extent did what society wanted them to do and were who society wanted them to be, but after sometime they figured that they weren't really those people and tried to be themselves, which is something new since, in Taylor's case, the press is very critical of her, and for Rebekah, her neighbours were very judgemental. 'mad' also alludes to track 12, 'mad woman' which seems like a continuation of this song.

"Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all her Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí"

Rebekah stopped trying to get her neighbours to like her, and figured that the people who actually liked her were the only people whose opinions mattered. The 'Bitch Pack' could be a reference to Taylor's 'Squad' as both are groups of close friends, who are immensely trustworthy and the best type of people. 'pool with champagne' is a hint to 'this is why we can't have nice things' on 'Reputation', where the line is, 'everyone swimming in a champagne sea'. She [Rebekah] didn't care about her reputation anymore with the townspeople. The 'big names' are the shareholders from Standard Oil and the rest of the town is probably very frustrated that she knows them and is still on good terms with them, despite her husband's death. This shows that the Standard Oil people are open minded and don't care about the wealth as long as you're a nice person. Taylor is also hinting at things the media says about her, when she says, 'blew through the money on the boys', as the media has frequently slut shamed her for doing something any normal 20 something year old would do. Rebekah loved the arts and ballet, and started the 'Harkness Ballet', she was also friends with Salvador Dalí, a famous artist.

"And they said "There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything""

The change from mad to shameless shows that whatever you do people will criticise you for it. Rebekah wanted to be herself, enjoy her life with people she knows she likes. Rebekah really couldn't care less about her reputation with the townspeople, because they didn't make any effort to know her, at least that's what it seems. Rebekah is happy being herself, and she wants to be herself and while she's being herself, she doesn't care about who's saying what about her.

"They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits And then it was bought by me"

The people chased her away. The sea brings calmness in people and all Rebekah wanted was a peaceful life. The people were pretending that she hadn't lost her husband when they were making the rumours about her. The sea, alone, at midnight, was one place she felt at peace. People called her mad for wanting to remember the happy times she had with her husband, when they would throw parties which is why she kept doing it, and she kept getting more annoyed with them, until she snapped, reasonably, and did something truly mad. Obviously, after dying her neighbour's dog, she must have fled and gone back to St Louis. The listeners don't really know how this song connects to Taylor, since she's known for her songs being personal, until this line. It was a really climatic moment for me personally. Once you hear this line, you can see the ways in which the song relates to her also.

"Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything"

The media makes a bunch of rumours about Taylor and people may not have wanted her as a neighbour because of this, but she didn't care what people thought of her. She was living her best life and thats something that people [the media] shouldn't give her hell for. She also highlights sexism with the use of 'woman' as both Rebekah and Taylor's actions would have been praised had they both been male.

"I had a marvelous time ruining everything A marvelous time ruining everything A marvelous time I had a marvelous time"

The repetition shows that Taylor really didn't care what other people thought of her, and what mattered to her was how she thought of herself. It's almost like a chant she is repeating for herself, 'I am happy I am being me'. Ending on 'I had a marvelous time', shows that she was and is truly happy.

Overall review: I love this song, the message and everything behind it. Honestly, the last thing I expected a song to be written about was a house, but when I was analysing this, I realised it's so much more than a story of a house. I also think it's cool to write a story for an inanimate object because it's something that you can make feel like the most haunted [pun intended] or enchanted [also intended] thing ever, and you can create a fantasy world in a real world. I love the song writing of this song, the lyrics, the parallels. Honestly Taylor smashed the assignment yet again.

[nanamicide]

A life of her own - chapter 1

Summary: Junko Enoshima's blackmail attempt on Sakakura Juzo has failed. Love has trumped despair. Mukuro has to watch her sister's plans fail, and learn how to live without her and her orders. Yet, she doesn't have any particular likes or dislikes, or things she wants to do.

Read on AO3

Mukuro had never loved, nor cared about despair. The only thing she loved and cared about was her twin sister, Junko Enoshima. Ever since their parents had died in that tragic accident when they were only three years old, she had made her happiness her only purpose in life. Since the strawberry blonde loved despair, it had only been natural for Mukuro to join the Ultimate Despair and help her create the most awful, most tragic, most despair-inducing event in human history. She’d had to do horrible things to make her sister’s maddest wishes come true – things she would never be able to share with anyone around her – but she had no regrets. The smile on her sister’s face whenever she saw another human being fall into despair was the best reward for her. It made her feel so alive, as if she were doing exactly what her parents would have wanted her to do, were they still in this world.

Despite all of this, and regardless of the happy chatter about despair and despair-inducing plans for the future between Junko-chan and Yukizome-sensei, Mukuro couldn’t help but feel uneasy. There was something about the room they were in that made her feel as though something terrible was going to happen today. It was probably because too many people had been getting involved in their secret plans in the past few weeks – she had always felt uncomfortable around strangers, after all.

First it had been Izuru Kamukura, the Ultimate Hope that was artificially created by the academy. Mukuro had understood why he was important for Junko-chan’s plan, so she’d let her be in touch with him in spite of how dangerous he seemed to be. Then, it had been that frail animator boy, Ryota Mitarai. Even though he seemed completely harmless, Mukuro got the feeling that he may bring about their demise. Unlike her, Junko-chan or Kamukura, he had people who cared about him. It would only be a matter of time until these people would be worried about how her sister had turned him into a terrified mess. In fact, it had only taken two days for that to happen. The Ultimate Nurse, Mikan Tsumiki, had been sent after him to help him with health issues. She didn’t seem dangerous either, but Mukuro had known from the start that people would end up looking for her as well, bringing more attention to their activities.

Once again, she’d been right. Yukizome-sensei, Mitarai-kun and Tsumiki-san’s teacher, had come looking for them. Of course, Junko-chan was delighted with all the attention they were suddenly getting. This gave her more people to brainwash into joining their cause, which in turn, made her feel stronger about what would come next. Mukuro wished she could be as confident as her.

“Ah, Yukizome-san,” Junko-chan beamed. “I have to go take care of one of your friends right now. You know, the one who’s totally not in love with your boyfriend or anything. He’s been sticking his nose in my business recently, and I can’t wait to see his strong, manly features turn to despair when I expose his dirty little secret to everyone in the Parade!”

The gyaru took a few steps towards the door and glanced at her sister. Mukuro turned to her.

“Please make sure none of them do anything stupid, idiot,” she spat at Mukuro, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

She’s right, Mukuro smiled to herself, I really am an idiot compared to her.

-

When Junko came back, an extra person had joined them. Mukuro had expected her to be furious and call her useless for not managing to keep him out of the room – she had left for a quick bathroom break when he barged in – but she was ecstatic. This wasn’t enough to help Mukuro with the nervousness she’d been experiencing all day, though. She was still feeling as though something bad was going to happen to them today, and that feeling was only growing bigger with every single passing second. Komaeda-kun’s sudden arrival and attempt to rescue his teacher – who had since then left to try and gather some of her students here and make them fall into despair – and classmates had had a completely different effect on Mukuro than on her sister.

The skinny white-haired teenager was saying something about how Junko-chan’s death would be nothing but a stepping stone for hope, and how he was so lucky to have found their hideout. Mukuro was on edge, keeping close watch of him. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or if he was just some of sort of comically stupid lunatic. It was only when he pulled a gun out of his pocket that Mukuro realized that had meant every single word he’d said. Luckily for her, the gun was jammed and he spent a few minutes trying to fix it. If he tried anything else, Mukuro would have time to disarm him.

He was still talking about how lucky he was when Kamukura appeared. Mukuro couldn’t get used to his sudden popping in and out of the places they stayed in. She was never able to tell how and when he arrived and left, and this made her feel unsafe. She knew that if he suddenly decided to do away with her and her sister, she wouldn’t be able to put much of a fight, and she hated that. She hated that Junko-chan had decided they needed him for her plan, no matter how sensible her reasons were. Kamukura was way too dangerous, and what was happening right in front of her eyes was yet another piece of evidence of the fact.

The slender dark-haired figured had swiftly grabbed the gun from Komaeda-kun’s hands and shot him, telling him that he also had what was called ultimate luck. Mukuro gasped as Komaeda-kun fell onto the floor. She had killed people before, but it’d never been so quick and easy.

“Are you scared, sis?” Junko asked her. “Isn’t seeing someone who’s better than you soooo despair-inducing? If he were better at following orders, you’d be completely useless to me now. Not that I really need you, anyway.”

Mukuro wanted to respond, but she knew it was no use. Instead, she kept her eyes on Komaeda-kun who was still… breathing? She wasn’t sure how it was possible – Kamukura had shot him in the chest, she’d seen it with her own two eyes – but the boy was still alive.

Thank goodness, she thought. Maybe things won’t be so bad today. At least we don’t have an extra and unnecessary death on our hands.

The tension she’d been feeling all day began to drop, and she stretched her arms in front of her. They would be okay – they always were. Even though she was always in charge of the dirty work, at least Junko-chan’s analytical abilities always enabled them to get away with things, no matter how bad the mess they had caused was.

Mukuro’s relief was short-lived, though. A few moments later, two men walked into the room. The soldier had no trouble recognizing them – Munakata-san, the former Ultimate Student Council President, and Sakakura-san, the former Ultimate Boxer, had been Investigating the Ultimate Despair ever since they’d organized their very first killing game.

Wait, Mukuro suddenly realized, her eyes widening as her thought process went on, this means Junko-chan didn’t manage to blackmail Sakakura-san? This means… They know everything. We failed? This is it?

As her brain processed what was happening, Mukuro’s legs started feeling weak. She collapsed on her knees, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. She glanced at her sister, whose expression had turned into that of a madwoman. Despite their now impeding doom, she still seemed happy, as though everything were still going according to her plan. It didn’t take long for Mukuro to understand that Junko-chan was finally feeling the despair she’d been craving for all these years. Failing meant that she was the one who was falling into despair this time. She was finally getting a first-hand taste of despair, and she was loving it.

“Look at that! It’s the Ultimate I Swear I’m Not Gay and his Ultimate Forbidden Love Interest!” Junko-chan sounded more excited than ever. “What will they do once they take care of the big bad guys? Kiss and fall in love? Of course not, that wouldn’t be despair-inducing enough!”

The two men ignored her provocation and walked towards her, ignoring everyone else in the room. It was clear they’d come for her and her only. Mukuro wanted to move and get rid of them, if only to save her sister, but something within her was stopping her from doing so. If she killed even only one of them, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. It would have caused her sister more despair, but for the first time in her life, Mukuro thought that this wasn’t what she wanted.

She didn’t want what Junko-chan wanted. She didn’t want to kill anymore. She’d never liked despair. Thus, Mukuro stayed there, silent. She waited for everything to be over, unsure if she would be able to watch more of what was happening. Yet, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the scene, as if her brain was forcing her to witness this – as if this would be of help to her in the future.

Yukizome-sensei had come back in the room, telling Munakata-san something about how she was glad he’d found this room.

Why is she lying to him? We just brainwashed her, there’s no way she would turn against us so soon – or any time, for that matter. Why is Junko-chan not warning them? Why is she playing along? Mukuro wasn’t sure she understood any of it anymore. Hope, despair – it didn’t make much sense to her at that point.

Kamukura took a few steps forward and grabbed Junko-chan, immobilizing her. He’s… Betraying Junko-chan. I always knew he was dangerous. Ever since we met him, I thought dealing with him was a bad idea. Why didn’t she listen to me? Why do I have to see this?

“You guys take care of them,” Yukizome-sensei said, referring to Kamukura and Junko-chan. “I’ll protect everyone else.”

Mukuro wanted to scream as the redhead came close to her, but she had no energy to do anything. She had completely given up on everything. The mental strain she’d experienced throughout the day and how she’d been surprised by the turn things had taken had drained her. She didn’t want to do this.

All I’ve ever wanted was to make Junko-chan happy and I’ve failed. I’ve pathetically failed by doing everything she wanted me to do. She looks so much happier now that she’s about to be stopped. I should have known that the only thing that would satisfy her was making her fall into despair. I was so stupid. I’ve failed her, and our parents. But most importantly, I failed myself. I’ve only given myself one duty in life, and I wasn’t even able to fulfill it. Just what type of soldier am I? What am I supposed to do?

Mukuro let Yukizome-sensei help her up and get her out of the room. She had no idea what the academy would decide to do with her, but she didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t like there was anything she really wanted to do, anyway. She had dedicated her entire life to Junko-chan, and had done everything in her power to make sure she would succeed no matter how crazy and farfetched her plans were.

Mukuro didn’t have any wishes of her own. She didn’t have any future to look forward to now that Junko-chan would be arrested. That was why it didn’t matter what would happen to her. It didn’t matter what they would do to her because if her sister wasn’t free, Mukuro wouldn’t have anything to do with herself.

As Yukizome-sensei sat her down in headmaster Kirigiri’s office and explained everything that had happened to them, Mukuro cried. She cried and cried and cried for the first time since her parents died. She had no idea what her tears meant, or why she wasn’t able to stop them, but her vision was blurry and her mind unable to follow the conversation that was happening right in front of her.  

[thestoryofustaylorsversion]

Folklore perspectives ✨

As Taylor said, each folklore tale is told from either her perspective, her friends’s perspective or perspectives of those she has never met before.

Here’s who’s perspective I believe each tale is told✨

The 1- taylor’s perspective looking back at a past friendship (most likely in her 20’s) she may have thought would be more OR betty’s perspective on how she wished things worked out different with james (during the roaring 1920s?)

‘If you really wanted me then you really should’ve shown’

‘Roaring twenties, throwing pennies in the pool. And if my wishes came true, it would have been you”

‘It could have been sweet, if it could have been me’

‘In my defense, I have none. For digging up the grave another time’

‘It could have been fun, if you would have been the one’

cardigan- betty’s perspective on her & james relationship when she’s older (reflecting on what she was told she knew vs what she knew)

‘When you are young they assume you know nothing’

‘But I new you...’

‘When I felt like an old cardigan, under someone’s bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.’

‘Chase two girls, lose the one’

‘Tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.’

‘I knew everything when I was young’

‘I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs’

‘I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired. And you’d be standing in my front porch light. And you’d come back to me’

the last great american dynasty - rebekah & taylor’s perspective on similar circumstances of being perceived as loud, mad and shamless

‘there goes the loudest/ maddest/ shameless woman this town has ever seen’

‘And then it was bought by me’

‘She/ I had a marvelous time ruining everything’

exile- james & betty’s perspective when they are a bit older on how they fell apart; how they refuse to listen to each other

‘I can see you standing honey, with his arms around your body’

‘I can see you staring honey, like he’s just your understudy’

‘I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending’

‘We always walked a very thin line’

‘Took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it’

‘Second, third and hundredth chances.’

‘You didn’t even hear me out’

‘You never/ I gave so many signs’

my tears ricochet- taylor’s perspective on the story of her masters being stolen from under her

‘Even on my worst day. Did I deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me?’

‘Cause I loved you, swear I loved you.’

‘I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace.’

‘And if I’m dead why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed, look at how my tears ricochet.’

‘You wear the same jewels that I gave you, as you bury me’

‘I can anywhere just not home’

‘I still talk to you, as I’m screaming at the sky’

‘And when you can’t sleep at night. You hear my stollen lullabies’

mirrorball - taylor‘s perspective of her career

‘I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight’

‘I can change everything about me to fit in’

‘But I’m still on my tallest tip toes. Spinning in my highest heels, love. Shining just for you’

‘I know they said the end is near’

‘I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try try try’

‘I’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me’

seven- taylor‘s perspective as a child, before she is forced to grow up and become a woman

‘Picture me in the tree’

‘I peaked at seven”

‘We can be pirates’

‘Please picture me in the weeds’

‘Before I learn civility’

‘I used to scream ferociously’

august- james’ summer fling’s perspective on their summer romance

‘Are you sure? Never have I ever before’

‘I can see us lost in the memory’

‘August slipped away to a moment in time’

‘Cause you were never mine’

‘I remember thinking I had you’

‘For me it was enough’

‘So much for summer love and saying us’

‘Back when I was living for the hope of it all’

this is me trying- told from the perspective of James when he’s a little older, who feels he lost his way and is trying to find his way back after losing betty

‘I have a lot of regrets about that’

‘They told me all my cages were mental. So I got wasted like all my potential’

‘Fell behind all my classmates now I’ve ended up here’

‘But I’m here in your doorway’

‘It’s hard to be at a party when you feel like an open wound’

‘It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you’

‘You’re a flashback on a film reel on the one screen in my town’

illicit affairs- a young woman’s perspective on having an affair with someone older

‘I tell my friends I’m out for a run, you’ll be flushed when you return’ (makes me think she’s in college, living with friends)

‘What started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots’

‘That’s the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings and longing stares’

‘Take the words for what they are. A dwindling mercurial high’

‘They show their truth just one single time but they lie and they lie and they lie a million little times.’

‘Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby’

‘Look at this idiotic fool that you made me’

invisible string- taylor’s perspective on fate bringing her to her lover, joe; time heals all things

‘isn’t it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me’

‘a single thread of gold tied me to you.’

‘green was color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial park, I used to think I’d meet somebody there ’

‘Teal was the color of your shirt when you were 16 at the yogurt shop’

‘Bad was the blood of the song in the can on your first trip to LA’

‘Bold was the waitress on our three-year-trio getting lunch down by the lakes. She said I looked like an American singer’

‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, but now I sent their babies presents’

‘Time, mystical, time, cutting me open and healing me fine’

‘Gave me the blues then purple pink skies (lover)’

‘Gold was the color of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial park’

‘Hell was a journey but it brought me heaven’

‘A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms and to that dive bar’

mad woman- taylor‘s perspective of how she (and other female artists) has been persecuted by the media, celebrities and her former record label

‘What did they think I’d say to that?’

‘They strike to kill and you know I will’

‘Does she smile? Or does she mouth “fuck you forever”’

‘Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy’

‘Women like hunting witches too’

‘I breathe fire each time I talk’

‘It’s obvious wanting me dead has really brought you two together’

‘Cause you took everything from me. Watching you climb, watching you climb. Over people like me’

‘No one likes a mad woman, you made her like that’

epiphany- a soldier’s (her grandfather’s) perspective, a medial worker’s perspective, a hero’s battle story

‘crawling up the beaches now, I think he’s bleeding out’

‘some things you just can’t speak about’

‘hold your hands through plastic’

‘keep your helmet, keep your life son’

‘Something med school did not cover’

‘with you I serve, with you I fall down’

‘watch you breathin in, watch you breathin out’

‘doc, I think she’s crashing out’

‘only 20 minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany’

betty- james’ perspective when he was seventeen, after he came back from his summer with ‘august’. He chased two girls and now he wants betty back.

‘would you tell me to go fuck myself or lead me to the garden’

‘you heard the rumors from Inez, you can’t believe a word she says, most times but this time it was true’

‘it was only a summer thing’

‘plus I saw you dance with him’

‘the worst thing I ever did was what I did to you’

‘I’m only seventeen I don’t know anything but I know I miss you’

‘I was walking home on broken cobblestones’

‘i slept next to her but I dreamed of you all summer long’

‘I’m here on your doorstep’

‘will you have me? will you love me?’

‘will this fix your broken wings?’

peace- taylor telling joe she knows she can’t give him everything he may need (peace) and is asking if that is still enough? Also a promise to do everything that she can do for him.

‘Would it be enough if I never bring you peace?’

‘You paint dream scapes on the wall, I talk shit with my friends. It’s like I’m wasting you honor’

‘People think love is for show, but I’d die for you in secret’

‘Give you my wild, give you a child’

‘The rain is always gonna come when you’re standing with me’

‘I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm’

‘You got a friend in me’

hoax- taylor making promise to joe that no matter what happens she will always be there for him; also makes references to how he’s the only one who understands her and her pain just like she understands his

‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you’

‘No other sadness in the world would do’

‘I left a part of me back in new york’

‘You know it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart’

‘Stood on the cliffside screaming “give me a reason”’

‘Your faithless love is the hoax I believe in’

‘My broken drum, you have beaten my heart’

Although so many songs are written from many character’s perspective, I absolutely adore how certain lines in most songs are clearly about taylor. She’s such a magical author to weave her life into her character’s lives in her folklore stories ✨🖤🧚‍♂️

I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS ALBUM 🖤🖤🖤

@taylorswift @taylornation 🖤✨🧚‍♂️

[mausi-shan]

I turned my Spotify 2020 playlist into lyric prompts

1.       “Show me a grey sky, a rainy cab ride Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time.” – London Boy, Taylor Swift

2.       “I’ve never been in love before, I don’t know what I’m doing I’ve never been too worldly in the ways of woman wooing I know how crazy lucky I am to love you.” – Get This Right, Jonathan Groff

3.       “Lights out, I found out my fallen star Goodbye, the sun rises and there’s no more you and I! Tell me how can you sleep? How can you breathe? Baby, tell me how, how you love me now?” - How You Love Me Now, Hey Monday

4.       “North is south, right is left when you’re gone I’m the one who sees you home but now I’m lost in the woods And I don’t know what path you are on” – Lost In The Woods, Jonathan Groff

5.       “Promise I’ve already learned my lesson, but right now I wanna be not okay” – You Don’t Know What It’s Like, Katelyn Tarver

6.       “This is falling in love in the cruellest way This is falling for you and you are worlds away” – Come Back… Be Here, Taylor Swift

7.       “From coast to coast I’ll make the most of every second that I’ve been given with this crowd Without a doubt, you’re all I dream about At night we lie awake with stories taking us back to the nights we felt alive” – Vegas, All Time Low

8.       “He doesn’t want to bang you Somebody hang you!” – Don’t Lose Ur Head, Six

9.       “I thought this time was different Why did I think he’d be different? But it’s never, ever different!” – All You Wanna Do, Six

10.   “If I said I want your body, would you hold it against me? Seven in the morning, wanna listen to Britney? Anything you want, baby, that’s okay with me now” – Sleeping In, All Time Low

11.   “My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn’t touch Now I’m looking for signs in a haunted club.” – Death By A Thousand Cuts, Taylor Swift

12.   “And I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation Never said I wanted to improve my station” – Bad Reputation, Joan Jett

13.   “This distance tears me apart God, I need to see you So when the homesickness starts and you’re missing me too I’m gone too long, but when you’re here it’s worth it So just hold on” – Fall To Pieces, Junior

14.   “Lyrical smile, indigo eyes Hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks I’ll drive” – I Think He Knows, Taylor Swift

15.   “I’m a user and abuser so I don’t need no accuser To slap me down ‘cause I know you’re right” – When I Come Around, Green Day

16.   “He’ll never fall in love he swears, as he runs his fingers through his hair I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong” – I’d Lie, Taylor Swift

17.   “I’ve been in love and lost my senses Spinning through the town” – I Wanna Dance With Somebody, Fall Out Boy  (Whitney Houston cover)

18.   “I’ve been first class, spent cash Been broke, no joke, nothing good ever lasts Been sued, been screwed, been chewed up Been loved, been lost but never used up This world’s not big enough for us You hate but you’re singing that chorus We’re kings you can’t ignore us” – Anti-Anthem, Sumo Cyco

19.   “She didn’t stutter, my chest flutters Cardiac attack in the cradle of the summer Superstitious, the kid’s vicious Bubblegum smile, taste the cherry on her lips” – Birthday, All Time Low

20.   “Got my heart out on the table And you didn’t walk away Love me if you’re able” – I Guess We’re Cool, Cassadee Pope

21.   “I can make the ground shake, Winds blow, Earth quake, Rain, snow Mountains, I can move mountains” – Move Mountains, Sumo Cyco

22.   “I wore the crown, I sold the lie I lived the life and paid for every crime.” – Some Kind Of Disaster, All Time Low

23.   “You can’t get under my skin But I get stuck in your head In case you didn’t notice, I’ve been living in it since I left” – With Or Without Me, Sainte

24.   “We’re bound to break And my hands are tied” – Rewrite The Stars, Zac Efron & Zendaya

25.   “Lovers dance when they feel in love Spotlight shining, it’s all about us” – All About Us, He Is We

26.   “A drowning will grasp at straws, a willing man drowns for a cause The blood will spill as cigars blaze and great white jaws will be your cage” – Sleep Tight, Sumo Cyco

27.   “Tell me that we’ll be just fine Tell me that you’re still mine Even when I lose my mind” – Afterglow, Taylor Swift

28.   “All this time, I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) Never turned things around (You never turned things around) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs. So many signs)” – exile, Taylor Swift & Bon Iver

29.   “What a shame, what a shame Beautiful scars on critical veins” – Kids In The Dark, All Time Low

30.   “Here we are, nearly strangers From two worlds that have rarely met But somehow you have made me someone new” – In A Place of Miracles, Hunchback of Notre Dame (but pheeble)

31.   “I give my hand to you with all my heart I can’t wait to live my life with you I can’t wait to start” – From This Moment, Shania Twain

32.   “I forgot that you Got out some popcorn as soon as my rep started going down Laughed on the schoolground as soon as I tripped and hit the ground And I would have stuck up for you Would’ve fought the whole town for you” – I Forgot That You Existed, Taylor Swift

33.   “The debt I owe, got to sell my soul ‘Cause I can’t say no No, I can’t say no Then my limbs all froze and my eyes won’t close ‘Cause I can’t say no No, I can’t say no” – Bury A Friend, Billie Eilish

34.   “Take a breath and let the rest come easy Never settle down ‘cause the cash flow leaves me always wanting more” – Dear Maria, Count Me In, All Time Low

35.   “I’m dizzy from jealousy And you’ve got something to lose But darling, don’t let that stop you” – Girlfriend, Best Ex

36.   “I’m your number one with a bullet A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it” – Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down, Fall Out Boy

37.   “When everyone believes you What’s that like?” – The Man, Taylor Swift

38.   “This is the last time I’m telling you this: Put my name at the top of your list” – The Last Time, Taylor Swift & Gary Lightbody

39.   “Do you have the time to listen to me whine?” – Basket Case, Green Day

40.   “Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost” – Wake Me Up When September Ends, Green Day

41.   “It takes a lot of courage to hold your own against the tide The wind is blowing, bar the doors, it wants to get inside It may seem hopeless, may seem like it’s the end In order to be broken, first it has to bend” – Run With The Giants, Sumo Cyco

42.   “No wonder your heart feels it’s flying, your head feels it’s spinning Each happy ending is a brand new beginning” – Ever Ever After, Carrie Underwood

43.   “There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvellous time ruining everything” – the last great american dynasty, Taylor Swift

44.   “Hey ho, let’s go Shoot ‘em in the back now What they want, I don’t know They’re all revved up and ready to go” – Blitzkreig Bop, The Ramones

45.   “You think I’m funny when I tell the punchline wrong Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine” – Teenage Dream, Katy Perry

46.   “If you want someone to save you, save yourself If you want someone to heal you, heal yourself If you want someone to save you, save yourself” – Free Yourself, Sumo Cyco

47.   “I wrote the gospel on giving up But the real bombshells have already sung” – This Ain’t A Scene, Fall Out Boy

48.   “I’m here on the kitchen floor You call, but I won’t hear it You said no one else How could you do this, babe?” – Babe, Sugarland & Taylor Swift

49.   “Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me And other times, I feel like I should go When through it all, the rise and fall The bodies in the streets” – Welcome To The Black Parade, MCR

50.   “I knew you tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy” – Cardigan, Taylor Swift

51.   “But she’s so rock and roll And out of my league Is she out of my league? I hope not” – Trouble, NeverShoutNever

52.   “Do you see my face in the neighbour’s lawn? Does she smile, or does she mouth fuck you forever?” – mad woman, Taylor Swift

53.   “Diamonds, pearls and rubies all swoon Can I offer you a little salt for that wound?” – Don’t Make Me, Malinda

54.   “The night we snuck into a yacht club party pretending to be a duchess and a prince” – Starlight, Taylor Swift

55.   “I know I said some bullshit on the phone I never leave well enough alone” – ME! , Taylor Swift & Brendon Urie

56.   “Give me therapy I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything Therapy, you were never a friend to me And you can choke on your misery” – Therapy, All Time Low

57.   “And I scream: For whatever it’s worth, I love you Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard? He looks up grinning like a devil” – Cruel Summer, Taylor Swift

58.   “Nobody tells me I need a rich man Doing my thing in my palace in Richmond” – Get Down, Six

59.   “We were something don’t you think so? Rose flowing with your chosen family” – the 1, Taylor Swift

60.   “And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here ‘Cause I remember it all too well” - All Too Well, Taylor Swift

61.   “Run baby, run Don’t ever look back They’ll tear us apart if they’re given the chance” - Check Yes Juliet, We The Kings

62.   “Does he watch your favourite movies? Does he hold you when you cry? Does he let you tell him all your favourite parts, when you’ve seen it a hundred times? Does he sing to all your music while you dance to Purple Rain? Does he do all these things like we used to?” – Like We Used To, A Rocket To The Moon

63.   “There I go, so dishonestly Leave a note for you, my only one” - Only One, Yellowcard

64.   “Caution, police line, you better not cross! Is it the cop or am I the one who’s really dangerous?” – Warning, Green Day

65.   “You’re not quite Satan but I really think I hate you” – Both Sides of the Story, We Are The In Crowd

66.   “Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings?” – betty, Taylor Swift

67.   “Nicotine and faded dreams Baby there’s no one else like me” – Say You Like Me, We The Kings

68.   “That smile that made me believe But you were lying through your teeth” – Is She Better, Caitlin Hart

69.   “So every day now, you brace for the sounds you only heard on TV You go to class scared, wondering where the best hiding spot would be” – Only The Young, Taylor Swift

70.   “Soon I’ll have to go I’ll never see him grow But I hope my son will know My love is set in stone” – Heart Of Stone, Six

71.   “Been trying to cover this hear out on my sleeve Been set on playing this down but I think you’re catching onto me” – Lie A Little Better, Lucy Hale

72.   “I used to believe, in the days I was naïve That I’d live to see a day of justice dawn And though, I will die long before that moment comes I’ll die while believing still, it will come when I am gone” – Someday, Hunchback of Notre Dame

73.   “I close my eyes and all I see is you I close my eyes, I try to sleep I can’t forget you” – I’d Do Anything, Simple Plan

74.   “Welcome to a new kind of tension All across the idiot nation Everything isn’t meant to be okay” – American Idiot, Green Day

75.   “Somehow something gave you the nerve to touch my hand It’s nice to have a friend” – It’s Nice To Have a Friend, Taylor Swift

76.   “Stop fucking around with my emotions” – The Irony of Choking On a Lifesaver, All Time Low

77.   “If you can just explain a single thing I’ve done to cause you pain I’ll go” – No Way, Six

78.   “Don’t listen to the voices in your head Listen to your heart” – Listen To Your Heart, The Maine

79.   “If you wanna piss of your parents Date me to scare them Show them you’re all grown up” – 18, Annarbor

80.   “Remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor?” – I’m Not Okay, MCR

81.   “Please leave me stranded It’s so romantic” – New Romantics, Taylor Swift

82.   “Not for us, we made a pact Death meet fear” – Love You Wrong, Sumo Cyco

83.   “Shade never made anybody less gay” – You Need To Calm Down, Taylor Swift

84.   “You push my love away like it’s some kind of loaded gun But you never thought I’d run” – Better Man, Little Big Town

85.   “You’re walking suicide You make me lose my heart and lose my mind” – Loose Cannon, Sumo Cyco

86.   “Every year when October comes around and it gets colder out I grab my favourite hoodie There’s still a hole from when you borrowed it You used to sleep in it ‘cause it reminded you of me” – Nostalgic, Simple Plan

87.   “I will be brave I will not let anything take away what’s standing in front of me” – A Thousand Years, Christina Perri

88.   “But I feel so alive with these phantoms of night And I know that this life isn’t safe but it’s wild and free” – Beautiful Ghosts, Taylor Swift

89.   “Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed” – Paper Rings, Taylor Swift

90.   “It’s nice to know we had it all Thanks for watching as I fall And letting me know we were done” – My Happy Ending, Avril Lavigne

91.   “And do you still think of me when I’m not there? Oh how could I still feel this way after all these years?” – Sleepy Kisses, Candy Hearts

92.   “Jaw breaker, you got the kiss that I wanna savour” – Candy Store, Faber Drive & Ish

93.   “As I walked out on the ledge Are you scared to death to live?” – Still Breathing, Green Day

94.   “Write me off, give up on me Darling, what did you expect? I’m just off, a lost cause, long shot Don’t even take this bet” – A Little Less Sixteen Candles, Fall Out Boy

95.   “Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings that became my religion” – Cornelia Street, Taylor Swift

96.   “And I still talk to you When I’m screaming at the sky” – my tears ricochet, Taylor Swift

97.   “Now that I’m losing hope And there’s nothing else to show” – Pressure, Paramore

98.   “And if I open my heart to you Will you show me what to do?” – A Way Back Into Love, Hayley Bennet & Hugh Grant

99.   “Stopped running, started walking instead It was all in my head, nothing’s against me This war was more civil, I realised I had to secede from both sides” – Arrows, Fireworks

100.           “I like when you get mad I guess I’m pretty glad that you’re alone You say she’s scared of me? Well, I don’t see what she sees but maybe it’s ‘cause I’m wearing your cologne.” – Bad Guy, Billie Eilish

[alchemist-shizun]

Thinking of you keeps me awake

Read on Ao3!

Word count: 1,407

Pairing: Logicality

Warnings: There's surgery mention and a mention of an incident in a playground, nothing specific or graphic.

Summary: Logan has been testing out the new advanced technology that had just been created for surgery. Patton, a doctor at the same hospital, finds the machine one night and starts talking to it daily. Logan finds it out in the weirdest way, and crushing ensues.

A/N: Hi name's Ellie and I find inspiration in TV advertisings. Okay this was supposed to be a drabble but I can't physically write less than a thousand words. (pardon me I can't put the read more on mobile.) This is also the first fic I post here so I'll just let you read in peace while I will disappear in fear. (Look I rhymed) Feel free to point out any typo or mistake, English isn't my first language and I'm always one for learning! Thank you so much and without any further ado, enjoy your reading.

✾

Logan finally found relief in the comfortable chair in front of his desk. It had been a little over a month since they started using advanced technology at work, which permitted Logan to attend meetings and to his job at the same time.

They didn't really take into account that being a surgeon wasn't exactly a piece of cake and doubling his work-related stress didn't help at all.

But Logan had never minded pushing himself to the limit in order to save lives or learn something new. (A bad habit that he had been dragging along ever since youth.)

The "machine of the future", as they liked to call it, was this robotic device that could be controlled wireless from a long distance. All Logan had to do was turn his phone on and a projector would show him what the robot was seeing and he could interact with the projection.

For instance, there had been cases in which he was required both at an updating course on new discoveries and also at the operating room to operate on one of his patients.

With this new object, he could help his team while traveling, as soon as he found a quiet place.

Quite the jewel, wasn't it?

That was the reason a hidden camera was implemented in the machine, it functioned both while in use and while seemingly asleep. If anything touched it, it would send a notification to the database Logan had access to on his laptop.

He was used to check on it daily, of course. Especially at 2 a.m., when he was definitely not supposed to be asleep. Now, he wasn't messing with his circadian system, just touching it up a little to see-

« A notification? »

His heart started pounding as panic drove its way through his chest; his mind, though, tried to find all the possible positive outcomes.

It could have been just an incident, right? Someone moved it or touched it by accident. There was nothing to be worried about, or else it would have automatically sent a call to the police.

Yes, it had a complicated security system, but it was needed, considering it was the only device existing at the time.

Logan scrolled through his database and found the videotapes section. He checked on the least recent video; they got deleted by the system monthly, so he was used to only check on them once a month unless an issue like that occurred.

He went through the frame previews and stopped when he saw a figure at the back of the room. The video started playing.

Logan could only watch as the figure became a more distinct man with wavy hair who paced around the room.

There was something familiar about him, but maybe it was just the glasses he was wearing that oddly reminded him of his own pair.

The mysterious man (actually, he was probably a doctor given his white coat) turned to the robot's direction and gasped at its sight before approaching it.

It was something, to see that scene almost as if it had been playing right in front of his eyes.

But Logan wasn't a robot.

« Oh my, what do we have here? » the man spoke in the most sugary voice Logan had ever heard. He wondered how soothing he was with distressed patients.

« This is so cool! » he paced around the object, then stopped back at its front.

« Is someone there? I'm Patton! »

Oh- That's what it was. He had worked with Patton, once or twice, but he had been on his team for a fairly short time. Wasn't he the new one around?

« Cat got your tongue? » his chuckle was so soft he could have made the maddest beast grow gentle. « Oops! You don't have one. »

Logan snorted and shook his head, was it really just this guy goofing around until the end of the tape?

He made to close the video and move onto the next ones, when Patton looked up again.

« Oh! Uhm ... whoever's behind this- because I really don't know, none bothered to answer me when I asked. » this time his snicker was embarrassed, he almost felt bad for him.

« I don't know why they think I'm dumb. I mean I got a doctorate, you can't exactly make your way through that by playing dumb, right? » Patton looked exactly where the robot's camera was hidden. Logan felt his heart skip a beat and he couldn't pinpoint whether it was out of fear or something else.

« But here I am, venting to a soulless machine. Maybe they're right. » he scratched his neck and sighed.

Logan remembered suddenly how Patton's first period of time with them was filled with simple tasks and chores. He had always thought they were just using him and not letting him unleash his potential.

Until one of the oldest doctors had to retire and some space had been made for him too.

« Anyway, to whoever is doing the awesome job behind this, I hope you know you're amazing! » Patton flashed him a toothy grin, then waved, gathered the stuff he needed and left.

Logan went through the other tapes as quickly as possible, but couldn't help but stop and listen to whatever Patton had to say in every single one of them.

The sight of his bright smile was a cathartic experience and, essentially, all Patton really did was clean some spots in the room and give both the robot and Logan a pep talk.

He didn't realize how wide he was smiling thanks to all the "I'm proud of you"s, "Your work is amazing", "Look at how marvelous you are" or "You inspire me", not until he reached the last tape and his cheeks were soaring from all the stretching.

Logan passed his hands on his face, his clock barely counting down to 3:30 a.m.

He tried to shake off the giddy feeling he felt when Patton appeared on his screen once again.

Sometimes you just need constant but simple reminders.

« Patton! Did a real good job! » he entered the room dancing and humming in his tracks. « Hey, didn't see you there! »

He approached the camera skipping along the pavement, that was the happiest he had ever seen him in those videos.

He couldn't believe that happened that day and he had missed the opportunity to see his joy at less than a couple of paces away.

« I saw the family of your patient today. » Patton sounded as if he were reminiscing about the moment.

Logan digged in his earliest memories and remembered the serious conditions of his patient: they had been victim of a terrible accident at a local playground. A mere little kid.

They had to work on the child for hours before it was safe to assume they would survive.

« I wish you could have seen the relatives. Their reaction when I delivered the news just ... Made me realize why I really love this job. » he hesitated, letting the words sink in.

« You did that. » Patton looked right into the camera but this time Logan's chest didn't feel tight.

Instead, it filled with warmth. Pleased and content.

« It's all thanks to you. » his voice trailed off as his cerulean eyes wandered around a spot Logan couldn't see.

« Oh gee, let's get you cleaned up! »

Next thing he knew, Patton had cleared some blood from the robot's surface. So that was why it sent off the notification.

Logan was glad it turned out to be nothing serious.

Just a cute and bubbly doctor that managed to start stealing his heart away without anything more than a night and video tapes. Not even his beloved surgery was needed.

Wait, what was that thought just now?

Logan closed his laptop as soon as Patton walked out of the frame.

He felt like he could have seen him if he moved, he didn't want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere Patton brought.

Afterwards, he finally dedicated himself to the thought of getting some rest for the hopefully less stressful day ahead.

Even though Logan spent the first few seconds of his sleeping time mentally smacking himself for staying up late, which he didn't actually regret, he now knew who to go to during his next coffee break.

[lihikainanea]

The Dangerous Forest Excursion Part Two

[whatsthepointofphilosophy]

Zeitgeist Disease

Something a bit different today. Paul Graham describes himself as “a programmer, writer, and investor”, although he studied philosophy in university. In January of 2004 he wrote a blog post, and I’m posting the entire thing here. Again, I didn’t write any of it, apart from this opening bit, and it’s fifteen years old.

It’s fundamentally a vigorous defence of philosophy and it’s more relevant now than ever before. I’ve called this post Zeitgeist Disease, but he calls it What You Can’t Say.

What You Can’t Say

Have you ever seen an old photo of yourself and been embarrassed at the way you looked? Did we actually dress like that? We did. And we had no idea how silly we looked. It's the nature of fashion to be invisible, in the same way the movement of the earth is invisible to all of us riding on it.

What scares me is that there are moral fashions too. They're just as arbitrary, and just as invisible to most people. But they're much more dangerous. Fashion is mistaken for good design; moral fashion is mistaken for good. Dressing oddly gets you laughed at. Violating moral fashions can get you fired, ostracized, imprisoned, or even killed.

If you could travel back in a time machine, one thing would be true no matter where you went: you'd have to watch what you said. Opinions we consider harmless could have gotten you in big trouble. I've already said at least one thing that would have gotten me in big trouble in most of Europe in the seventeenth century, and did get Galileo in big trouble when he said it-- that the earth moves.

Nerds are always getting in trouble. They say improper things for the same reason they dress unfashionably and have good ideas: convention has less hold over them.

It seems to be a constant throughout history: In every period, people believed things that were just ridiculous, and believed them so strongly that you would have gotten in terrible trouble for saying otherwise.

Is our time any different? To anyone who has read any amount of history, the answer is almost certainly no. It would be a remarkable coincidence if ours were the first era to get everything just right.

It's tantalizing to think we believe things that people in the future will find ridiculous. What would someone coming back to visit us in a time machine have to be careful not to say? That's what I want to study here. But I want to do more than just shock everyone with the heresy du jour. I want to find general recipes for discovering what you can't say, in any era.

The Conformist Test

Let's start with a test: Do you have any opinions that you would be reluctant to express in front of a group of your peers?

If the answer is no, you might want to stop and think about that. If everything you believe is something you're supposed to believe, could that possibly be a coincidence? Odds are it isn't. Odds are you just think whatever you're told.

The other alternative would be that you independently considered every question and came up with the exact same answers that are now considered acceptable. That seems unlikely, because you'd also have to make the same mistakes. Mapmakers deliberately put slight mistakes in their maps so they can tell when someone copies them. If another map has the same mistake, that's very convincing evidence.

Like every other era in history, our moral map almost certainly contains a few mistakes. And anyone who makes the same mistakes probably didn't do it by accident. It would be like someone claiming they had independently decided in 1972 that bell-bottom jeans were a good idea.

If you believe everything you're supposed to now, how can you be sure you wouldn't also have believed everything you were supposed to if you had grown up among the plantation owners of the pre-Civil War South, or in Germany in the 1930s-- or among the Mongols in 1200, for that matter? Odds are you would have.

Back in the era of terms like "well-adjusted," the idea seemed to be that there was something wrong with you if you thought things you didn't dare say out loud. This seems backward. Almost certainly, there is something wrong with you if you don't think things you don't dare say out loud.

Trouble

What can't we say? One way to find these ideas is simply to look at things people do say, and get in trouble for.

Of course, we're not just looking for things we can't say. We're looking for things we can't say that are true, or at least have enough chance of being true that the question should remain open. But many of the things people get in trouble for saying probably do make it over this second, lower threshold. No one gets in trouble for saying that 2 + 2 is 5, or that people in Pittsburgh are ten feet tall. Such obviously false statements might be treated as jokes, or at worst as evidence of insanity, but they are not likely to make anyone mad. The statements that make people mad are the ones they worry might be believed. I suspect the statements that make people maddest are those they worry might be true.

If Galileo had said that people in Padua were ten feet tall, he would have been regarded as a harmless eccentric. Saying the earth orbited the sun was another matter. The church knew this would set people thinking.

Certainly, as we look back on the past, this rule of thumb works well. A lot of the statements people got in trouble for seem harmless now. So it's likely that visitors from the future would agree with at least some of the statements that get people in trouble today. Do we have no Galileos? Not likely.

To find them, keep track of opinions that get people in trouble, and start asking, could this be true? Ok, it may be heretical (or whatever modern equivalent), but might it also be true?

Heresy

This won't get us all the answers, though. What if no one happens to have gotten in trouble for a particular idea yet? What if some idea would be so radioactively controversial that no one would dare express it in public? How can we find these too?

Another approach is to follow that word, heresy. In every period of history, there seem to have been labels that got applied to statements to shoot them down before anyone had a chance to ask if they were true or not. "Blasphemy", "sacrilege", and "heresy" were such labels for a good part of western history, as in more recent times "indecent", "improper", and "unamerican" have been. By now these labels have lost their sting. They always do. By now they're mostly used ironically. But in their time, they had real force.

The word "defeatist", for example, has no particular political connotations now. But in Germany in 1917 it was a weapon, used by Ludendorff in a purge of those who favored a negotiated peace. At the start of World War II it was used extensively by Churchill and his supporters to silence their opponents. In 1940, any argument against Churchill's aggressive policy was "defeatist". Was it right or wrong? Ideally, no one got far enough to ask that.

We have such labels today, of course, quite a lot of them, from the all-purpose "inappropriate" to the dreaded "divisive." In any period, it should be easy to figure out what such labels are, simply by looking at what people call ideas they disagree with besides untrue. When a politician says his opponent is mistaken, that's a straightforward criticism, but when he attacks a statement as "divisive" or "racially insensitive" instead of arguing that it's false, we should start paying attention.

So another way to figure out which of our taboos future generations will laugh at is to start with the labels. Take a label-- "sexist", for example-- and try to think of some ideas that would be called that. Then for each ask, might this be true?

Just start listing ideas at random? Yes, because they won't really be random. The ideas that come to mind first will be the most plausible ones. They'll be things you've already noticed but didn't let yourself think.

In 1989 some clever researchers tracked the eye movements of radiologists as they scanned chest images for signs of lung cancer. They found that even when the radiologists missed a cancerous lesion, their eyes had usually paused at the site of it. Part of their brain knew there was something there; it just didn't percolate all the way up into conscious knowledge. I think many interesting heretical thoughts are already mostly formed in our minds. If we turn off our self-censorship temporarily, those will be the first to emerge.

Time and Space

If we could look into the future it would be obvious which of our taboos they'd laugh at. We can't do that, but we can do something almost as good: we can look into the past. Another way to figure out what we're getting wrong is to look at what used to be acceptable and is now unthinkable.

Changes between the past and the present sometimes do represent progress. In a field like physics, if we disagree with past generations it's because we're right and they're wrong. But this becomes rapidly less true as you move away from the certainty of the hard sciences. By the time you get to social questions, many changes are just fashion. The age of consent fluctuates like hemlines.

We may imagine that we are a great deal smarter and more virtuous than past generations, but the more history you read, the less likely this seems. People in past times were much like us. Not heroes, not barbarians. Whatever their ideas were, they were ideas reasonable people could believe.

So here is another source of interesting heresies. Diff present ideas against those of various past cultures, and see what you get. Some will be shocking by present standards. Ok, fine; but which might also be true?

You don't have to look into the past to find big differences. In our own time, different societies have wildly varying ideas of what's ok and what isn't. So you can try diffing other cultures' ideas against ours as well. (The best way to do that is to visit them.)

You might find contradictory taboos. In one culture it might seem shocking to think x, while in another it was shocking not to. But I think usually the shock is on one side. In one culture x is ok, and in another it's considered shocking. My hypothesis is that the side that's shocked is most likely to be the mistaken one.

I suspect the only taboos that are more than taboos are the ones that are universal, or nearly so. Murder for example. But any idea that's considered harmless in a significant percentage of times and places, and yet is taboo in ours, is a good candidate for something we're mistaken about.

For example, at the high water mark of political correctness in the early 1990s, Harvard distributed to its faculty and staff a brochure saying, among other things, that it was inappropriate to compliment a colleague or student's clothes. No more "nice shirt." I think this principle is rare among the world's cultures, past or present. There are probably more where it's considered especially polite to compliment someone's clothing than where it's considered improper. So odds are this is, in a mild form, an example of one of the taboos a visitor from the future would have to be careful to avoid if he happened to set his time machine for Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1992.

Prigs

Of course, if they have time machines in the future they'll probably have a separate reference manual just for Cambridge. This has always been a fussy place, a town of i dotters and t crossers, where you're liable to get both your grammar and your ideas corrected in the same conversation. And that suggests another way to find taboos. Look for prigs, and see what's inside their heads.

Kids' heads are repositories of all our taboos. It seems fitting to us that kids' ideas should be bright and clean. The picture we give them of the world is not merely simplified, to suit their developing minds, but sanitized as well, to suit our ideas of what kids ought to think.

You can see this on a small scale in the matter of dirty words. A lot of my friends are starting to have children now, and they're all trying not to use words like "fuck" and "shit" within baby's hearing, lest baby start using these words too. But these words are part of the language, and adults use them all the time. So parents are giving their kids an inaccurate idea of the language by not using them. Why do they do this? Because they don't think it's fitting that kids should use the whole language. We like children to seem innocent.

Most adults, likewise, deliberately give kids a misleading view of the world. One of the most obvious examples is Santa Claus. We think it's cute for little kids to believe in Santa Claus. I myself think it's cute for little kids to believe in Santa Claus. But one wonders, do we tell them this stuff for their sake, or for ours?

I'm not arguing for or against this idea here. It is probably inevitable that parents should want to dress up their kids' minds in cute little baby outfits. I'll probably do it myself. The important thing for our purposes is that, as a result, a well brought-up teenage kid's brain is a more or less complete collection of all our taboos-- and in mint condition, because they're untainted by experience. Whatever we think that will later turn out to be ridiculous, it's almost certainly inside that head.

How do we get at these ideas? By the following thought experiment. Imagine a kind of latter-day Conrad character who has worked for a time as a mercenary in Africa, for a time as a doctor in Nepal, for a time as the manager of a nightclub in Miami. The specifics don't matter-- just someone who has seen a lot. Now imagine comparing what's inside this guy's head with what's inside the head of a well-behaved sixteen year old girl from the suburbs. What does he think that would shock her? He knows the world; she knows, or at least embodies, present taboos. Subtract one from the other, and the result is what we can't say.

Mechanism

I can think of one more way to figure out what we can't say: to look at how taboos are created. How do moral fashions arise, and why are they adopted? If we can understand this mechanism, we may be able to see it at work in our own time.

Moral fashions don't seem to be created the way ordinary fashions are. Ordinary fashions seem to arise by accident when everyone imitates the whim of some influential person. The fashion for broad-toed shoes in late fifteenth century Europe began because Charles VIII of France had six toes on one foot. The fashion for the name Gary began when the actor Frank Cooper adopted the name of a tough mill town in Indiana. Moral fashions more often seem to be created deliberately. When there's something we can't say, it's often because some group doesn't want us to.

The prohibition will be strongest when the group is nervous. The irony of Galileo's situation was that he got in trouble for repeating Copernicus's ideas. Copernicus himself didn't. In fact, Copernicus was a canon of a cathedral, and dedicated his book to the pope. But by Galileo's time the church was in the throes of the Counter-Reformation and was much more worried about unorthodox ideas.

To launch a taboo, a group has to be poised halfway between weakness and power. A confident group doesn't need taboos to protect it. It's not considered improper to make disparaging remarks about Americans, or the English. And yet a group has to be powerful enough to enforce a taboo. Coprophiles, as of this writing, don't seem to be numerous or energetic enough to have had their interests promoted to a lifestyle.

I suspect the biggest source of moral taboos will turn out to be power struggles in which one side only barely has the upper hand. That's where you'll find a group powerful enough to enforce taboos, but weak enough to need them.

Most struggles, whatever they're really about, will be cast as struggles between competing ideas. The English Reformation was at bottom a struggle for wealth and power, but it ended up being cast as a struggle to preserve the souls of Englishmen from the corrupting influence of Rome. It's easier to get people to fight for an idea. And whichever side wins, their ideas will also be considered to have triumphed, as if God wanted to signal his agreement by selecting that side as the victor.

We often like to think of World War II as a triumph of freedom over totalitarianism. We conveniently forget that the Soviet Union was also one of the winners.

I'm not saying that struggles are never about ideas, just that they will always be made to seem to be about ideas, whether they are or not. And just as there is nothing so unfashionable as the last, discarded fashion, there is nothing so wrong as the principles of the most recently defeated opponent. Representational art is only now recovering from the approval of both Hitler and Stalin.

Although moral fashions tend to arise from different sources than fashions in clothing, the mechanism of their adoption seems much the same. The early adopters will be driven by ambition: self-consciously cool people who want to distinguish themselves from the common herd. As the fashion becomes established they'll be joined by a second, much larger group, driven by fear. This second group adopt the fashion not because they want to stand out but because they are afraid of standing out.

So if you want to figure out what we can't say, look at the machinery of fashion and try to predict what it would make unsayable. What groups are powerful but nervous, and what ideas would they like to suppress? What ideas were tarnished by association when they ended up on the losing side of a recent struggle? If a self-consciously cool person wanted to differentiate himself from preceding fashions (e.g. from his parents), which of their ideas would he tend to reject? What are conventional-minded people afraid of saying?

This technique won't find us all the things we can't say. I can think of some that aren't the result of any recent struggle. Many of our taboos are rooted deep in the past. But this approach, combined with the preceding four, will turn up a good number of unthinkable ideas.

Why

Some would ask, why would one want to do this? Why deliberately go poking around among nasty, disreputable ideas? Why look under rocks?

I do it, first of all, for the same reason I did look under rocks as a kid: plain curiosity. And I'm especially curious about anything that's forbidden. Let me see and decide for myself.

Second, I do it because I don't like the idea of being mistaken. If, like other eras, we believe things that will later seem ridiculous, I want to know what they are so that I, at least, can avoid believing them.

Third, I do it because it's good for the brain. To do good work you need a brain that can go anywhere. And you especially need a brain that's in the habit of going where it's not supposed to.

Great work tends to grow out of ideas that others have overlooked, and no idea is so overlooked as one that's unthinkable. Natural selection, for example. It's so simple. Why didn't anyone think of it before? Well, that is all too obvious. Darwin himself was careful to tiptoe around the implications of his theory. He wanted to spend his time thinking about biology, not arguing with people who accused him of being an atheist.

In the sciences, especially, it's a great advantage to be able to question assumptions. The m.o. of scientists, or at least of the good ones, is precisely that: look for places where conventional wisdom is broken, and then try to pry apart the cracks and see what's underneath. That's where new theories come from.

A good scientist, in other words, does not merely ignore conventional wisdom, but makes a special effort to break it. Scientists go looking for trouble. This should be the m.o. of any scholar, but scientists seem much more willing to look under rocks.

Why? It could be that the scientists are simply smarter; most physicists could, if necessary, make it through a PhD program in French literature, but few professors of French literature could make it through a PhD program in physics. Or it could be because it's clearer in the sciences whether theories are true or false, and this makes scientists bolder. (Or it could be that, because it's clearer in the sciences whether theories are true or false, you have to be smart to get jobs as a scientist, rather than just a good politician.)

Whatever the reason, there seems a clear correlation between intelligence and willingness to consider shocking ideas. This isn't just because smart people actively work to find holes in conventional thinking. I think conventions also have less hold over them to start with. You can see that in the way they dress.

It's not only in the sciences that heresy pays off. In any competitive field, you can win big by seeing things that others daren't. And in every field there are probably heresies few dare utter. Within the US car industry there is a lot of hand-wringing now about declining market share. Yet the cause is so obvious that any observant outsider could explain it in a second: they make bad cars. And they have for so long that by now the US car brands are antibrands-- something you'd buy a car despite, not because of. Cadillac stopped being the Cadillac of cars in about 1970. And yet I suspect no one dares say this. Otherwise these companies would have tried to fix the problem.

Training yourself to think unthinkable thoughts has advantages beyond the thoughts themselves. It's like stretching. When you stretch before running, you put your body into positions much more extreme than any it will assume during the run. If you can think things so outside the box that they'd make people's hair stand on end, you'll have no trouble with the small trips outside the box that people call innovative.

Pensieri Stretti

When you find something you can't say, what do you do with it? My advice is, don't say it. Or at least, pick your battles.

Suppose in the future there is a movement to ban the color yellow. Proposals to paint anything yellow are denounced as "yellowist", as is anyone suspected of liking the color. People who like orange are tolerated but viewed with suspicion. Suppose you realize there is nothing wrong with yellow. If you go around saying this, you'll be denounced as a yellowist too, and you'll find yourself having a lot of arguments with anti-yellowists. If your aim in life is to rehabilitate the color yellow, that may be what you want. But if you're mostly interested in other questions, being labelled as a yellowist will just be a distraction. Argue with idiots, and you become an idiot.

The most important thing is to be able to think what you want, not to say what you want. And if you feel you have to say everything you think, it may inhibit you from thinking improper thoughts. I think it's better to follow the opposite policy. Draw a sharp line between your thoughts and your speech. Inside your head, anything is allowed. Within my head I make a point of encouraging the most outrageous thoughts I can imagine. But, as in a secret society, nothing that happens within the building should be told to outsiders. The first rule of Fight Club is, you do not talk about Fight Club.

When Milton was going to visit Italy in the 1630s, Sir Henry Wootton, who had been ambassador to Venice, told him his motto should be "i pensieri stretti & il viso sciolto." Closed thoughts and an open face. Smile at everyone, and don't tell them what you're thinking. This was wise advice. Milton was an argumentative fellow, and the Inquisition was a bit restive at that time. But I think the difference between Milton's situation and ours is only a matter of degree. Every era has its heresies, and if you don't get imprisoned for them you will at least get in enough trouble that it becomes a complete distraction.

I admit it seems cowardly to keep quiet. When I read about the harassment to which the Scientologists subject their critics, or that pro-Israel groups are "compiling dossiers" on those who speak out against Israeli human rights abuses, or about people being sued for violating the DMCA, part of me wants to say, "All right, you bastards, bring it on." The problem is, there are so many things you can't say. If you said them all you'd have no time left for your real work. You'd have to turn into Noam Chomsky.

The trouble with keeping your thoughts secret, though, is that you lose the advantages of discussion. Talking about an idea leads to more ideas. So the optimal plan, if you can manage it, is to have a few trusted friends you can speak openly to. This is not just a way to develop ideas; it's also a good rule of thumb for choosing friends. The people you can say heretical things to without getting jumped on are also the most interesting to know.

Viso Sciolto?

I don't think we need the viso sciolto so much as the pensieri stretti. Perhaps the best policy is to make it plain that you don't agree with whatever zealotry is current in your time, but not to be too specific about what you disagree with. Zealots will try to draw you out, but you don't have to answer them. If they try to force you to treat a question on their terms by asking "are you with us or against us?" you can always just answer "neither".

Better still, answer "I haven't decided." That's what Larry Summers did when a group tried to put him in this position. Explaining himself later, he said "I don't do litmus tests." A lot of the questions people get hot about are actually quite complicated. There is no prize for getting the answer quickly.

If the anti-yellowists seem to be getting out of hand and you want to fight back, there are ways to do it without getting yourself accused of being a yellowist. Like skirmishers in an ancient army, you want to avoid directly engaging the main body of the enemy's troops. Better to harass them with arrows from a distance.

One way to do this is to ratchet the debate up one level of abstraction. If you argue against censorship in general, you can avoid being accused of whatever heresy is contained in the book or film that someone is trying to censor. You can attack labels with meta-labels: labels that refer to the use of labels to prevent discussion. The spread of the term "political correctness" meant the beginning of the end of political correctness, because it enabled one to attack the phenomenon as a whole without being accused of any of the specific heresies it sought to suppress.

Another way to counterattack is with metaphor. Arthur Miller undermined the House Un-American Activities Committee by writing a play, "The Crucible," about the Salem witch trials. He never referred directly to the committee and so gave them no way to reply. What could HUAC do, defend the Salem witch trials? And yet Miller's metaphor stuck so well that to this day the activities of the committee are often described as a "witch-hunt."

Best of all, probably, is humor. Zealots, whatever their cause, invariably lack a sense of humor. They can't reply in kind to jokes. They're as unhappy on the territory of humor as a mounted knight on a skating rink. Victorian prudishness, for example, seems to have been defeated mainly by treating it as a joke. Likewise its reincarnation as political correctness. "I am glad that I managed to write 'The Crucible,'" Arthur Miller wrote, "but looking back I have often wished I'd had the temperament to do an absurd comedy, which is what the situation deserved."

ABQ

A Dutch friend says I should use Holland as an example of a tolerant society. It's true they have a long tradition of comparative open-mindedness. For centuries the low countries were the place to go to say things you couldn't say anywhere else, and this helped to make the region a center of scholarship and industry (which have been closely tied for longer than most people realize). Descartes, though claimed by the French, did much of his thinking in Holland.

And yet, I wonder. The Dutch seem to live their lives up to their necks in rules and regulations. There's so much you can't do there; is there really nothing you can't say?

Certainly the fact that they value open-mindedness is no guarantee. Who thinks they're not open-minded? Our hypothetical prim miss from the suburbs thinks she's open-minded. Hasn't she been taught to be? Ask anyone, and they'll say the same thing: they're pretty open-minded, though they draw the line at things that are really wrong. (Some tribes may avoid "wrong" as judgemental, and may instead use a more neutral sounding euphemism like "negative" or "destructive".)

When people are bad at math, they know it, because they get the wrong answers on tests. But when people are bad at open-mindedness they don't know it. In fact they tend to think the opposite. Remember, it's the nature of fashion to be invisible. It wouldn't work otherwise. Fashion doesn't seem like fashion to someone in the grip of it. It just seems like the right thing to do. It's only by looking from a distance that we see oscillations in people's idea of the right thing to do, and can identify them as fashions.

Time gives us such distance for free. Indeed, the arrival of new fashions makes old fashions easy to see, because they seem so ridiculous by contrast. From one end of a pendulum's swing, the other end seems especially far away.

To see fashion in your own time, though, requires a conscious effort. Without time to give you distance, you have to create distance yourself. Instead of being part of the mob, stand as far away from it as you can and watch what it's doing. And pay especially close attention whenever an idea is being suppressed. Web filters for children and employees often ban sites containing pornography, violence, and hate speech. What counts as pornography and violence? And what, exactly, is "hate speech?" This sounds like a phrase out of 1984.

Labels like that are probably the biggest external clue. If a statement is false, that's the worst thing you can say about it. You don't need to say that it's heretical. And if it isn't false, it shouldn't be suppressed. So when you see statements being attacked as x-ist or y-ic (substitute your current values of x and y), whether in 1630 or 2030, that's a sure sign that something is wrong. When you hear such labels being used, ask why.

Especially if you hear yourself using them. It's not just the mob you need to learn to watch from a distance. You need to be able to watch your own thoughts from a distance. That's not a radical idea, by the way; it's the main difference between children and adults. When a child gets angry because he's tired, he doesn't know what's happening. An adult can distance himself enough from the situation to say "never mind, I'm just tired." I don't see why one couldn't, by a similar process, learn to recognize and discount the effects of moral fashions.

You have to take that extra step if you want to think clearly. But it's harder, because now you're working against social customs instead of with them. Everyone encourages you to grow up to the point where you can discount your own bad moods. Few encourage you to continue to the point where you can discount society's bad moods.

How can you see the wave, when you're the water? Always be questioning. That's the only defence. What can't you say? And why?

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Madness Among the Maddest - Loki x Fem Reader * smut * - Part 1

Summary: The Grand Master is tired of you sneaking around Sakaar without his permission or understanding of what you’re doing. Since you refuse to explain yourself, he’s sure he knows just how -or who- can get you to talk.

 Warning: NSFW, smut, multiple orgasms… y’know how it is.

 ***

You were tougher than nails and feared nothing. Pain didn’t motivate you, nor intimidation. Your resolve was as ardent as Mjolnir itself, save for one thing nobody’d yet discovered. Your reputation sang of your ability to withstand adversity, your very existence indomitable in every sense of the word. Known all through The Nine as an unbreakable force, your power was complimented by your innately sultry character, your mere presence a source of magnetism. Unbreakable to all... 

 ...but bendable by One.  

 For centuries, you’d traveled between planets, in search of the perfect civilization to dominate. Taking intel and research from every corner you visited, you’d deliver the information to your cohorts and the group would continue to deliberate. You could build your own society, but why bother? When you’re physically and philosophically sound in every fundamental form, all that’s left to be desired is a designated place to originate from.  

 Until Sakaar.  

You’d discovered a seemingly unknown porthole that could commute you from one end of the galaxy to another, rendering Sakaar as a geographically perfect checkpoint destination. You’d been using this thoroughfare for decades, quietly pillaging while keeping an eye on the Grandmaster’s dog and pony shows and other successes, namely his out of town guests. You were however unaware that the GM had been keeping a vigilant eye on you as well, and was patiently awaiting your most recent return.  

 That’s how you found yourself immediately before him, magnetically bound to the GM’s signature submissive chairs. Via his whimsical interrogation methods he pried, asking the nature of your origin, motives, etcetera. You shrugged the best you could within your restraints and uttered not a word. Quickly flustered, he summoned his melting scepter beside your cheek, slowly emitting heat to your skin. You can call a bluff in your very bones, so you smile. The heat intensifies and you remain strong in your silence. The GM continues to illustrate the physical torture waiting for you outside his chambers and to that, you let a small, faint yawn escape your lips. Just then Topaz leans into the GM’s side with an urgent whisper. A second passes as he murmurs with delight and intrigue, writhing rhythmically to his own tune of thought as it materialized on his face. He had a plan.  

 So, there you are. Still clad in your black protective leather armor, you’re relieved to remain in what’s comfortable, even if your accommodations are horrifying. Looking around, you find yourself in the strange, striped circular loophole dungeon that houses the bodies (both living and dead) of the GM’s Prisoners With Jobs. On your left, you see the vaguest silhouettes of Korg and a couple of less identifiable beings, their voices low and fuzzy as if the volume’s turned way down. On your right, more distant voices crowding like a contained hum.  Confusion begins to tease you as you contemplate the reality that you just might be inside a cell within a cell, a hole within a loophole. 

 As the very question begins to form in your mind, a projected message from the GM appears right in front of you, giggling feverishly as he informs you that you won’t be able to hear or communicate with anyone, as he’s putting a kibosh on your eavesdropping and ultimately, the gathering of intelligence... along with your shameless shoplifting of goods from his sacred planet. Oh and on a final note: he has a weapon even you might not be a match for, and in your surrender to this weapon, you will reveal everything he asks.  You smirk. 

 A good challenge has never failed to entertain you in your many centuries of life, trials and tribulations. You’ve seen and felt, pursued and exhausted everything in The Nine and yet player to player combat still enthralls you most. What a wondrous existence. Your ability to resolve and conquer keeps things interesting, as it should. Existence is all about experience, testing limits from every angle and making note of it all. You seldom say no to something you’ve not had the chance to analyze. All for the sake of knowledge.  

 Slowly yet suddenly, your contemplation is interrupted as the invisible walls of your cell dim to a dark, cloudy gray and a figure appears as if through a mist. Interesting. You stretch your legs out in front of you, crossing them at your ankles. You lean back, reclining for the next act about to unfold before you. Just a few feet ahead stands a vision in black and green, of alabaster skin, raven hair and a smirk nearly as enigmatic as your own. A vision of dark to light, stark and alluring. Interesting indeed.  He takes one step toward you and stops, breathing in a sigh punctuated by a playfully sinister laugh, echoing from the depths of his belly and hanging seductively in the air. He watches as gooseflesh erects like falling dominoes, trailing rapidly along your arms. He tilts his head and coos, “Right on schedule.” 

 You sit up slightly, raising your eyes to meet his and he smiles. “I’ve always had the ability to disarm even the most resolute of beings. But do tell me, pet: what is a striking young vixen such as yourself doing in a place like this?” You fight the urge to snicker and lose, a grin peels across your face. You retort “ah, Loki, Prince of Asgard. Flattery may get you all you desire back home, but I’m rather well versed in what you do.”  He takes another step forward, stopping at the push-back from the tip of his boot prodding the sole of yours. The thought of him being close enough to touch you begins to distract you from your trademarked stoicism. Better tread lightly. Don’t get cocky. Don’t lose your wits now. Don’t let him in your head.  

 You pull one leg back, bending at the knee as you slide yourself back, straightening up, somewhat defensively. Acknowledging your attempt to posture, he waves a hand and produces two chairs, facing one another. He reaches his hand to you. “Let us sit comfortably as we discuss the matter at hand.”  Rising to your feet, you lightly wave his hand away as he scoffs, amusedly. You take a step forward and he teleports behind you to pull your chair out. Thanking him, you take your seat. You can work with this.  

 Expecting him to sit across from you, you’re taken aback when the apparition before you disappears and the Loki behind you wraps his long, slender fingers around the chair, gripping your arms ever so lightly. Leaning in, he whispers deeply into your ear, his bottom lip grazing your earlobe as he forms every syllable. “Tell me, my darling. What truly brings you here?” An undeniable heat flickers in the core of your lap. You tilt your head away from temptation and remark, “Well on this trip, I was just on the hunt for materials, my lord. But I’d be happy to call it a day and be on my merry way home if you’d just point me in the direction of the door.”  

 His fingertips slowly begin to run up and down your arms as he brings his head further to meet your ear, laughing breathily and murmuring, “If talking is not in your interests, I can make it so.” You chuckle, in a profound attempt to conceal your growing arousal at this game. A fruitless effort as the Dark Prince can detect exactly what you’re feeling. To this, he responds by placing his left hand at the base of your neck, lightly pushing your head aside with this fingers, exposing your neck to his tongue as he licks a slow, broad stroke straight to the very same earlobe. You breathe out slowly and deeply and reach nimbly for a lock of his hair: to subdue him, sure. But with the mood striking, why not remind him not to get too familiar?  

 He catches your wrist immediately and laughs again, this time leaning into your face, resting the tip of his nose beside yours. He returns your slow, deep sigh for a second, then brings his lips to barely touch yours as he asks, “How have you been getting here, little dove? That’s all I’m asking.” Before you can pull your other arm free to grab his neck, he pins it to the chair. He narrows his glare into your eyes. “Tell me.” He lets the tip of his tongue out to graze your bottom lip. You take his bottom lip, dragging your teeth to suck it briefly. He revels in your response, and you release him, pushing yourself free from him as you stand. “You’d like to talk, my lord? Then please, have a seat.” You muse, and he follows. 

 “I just thought we’d have some fun, is all. I’ve found you mystifying for a rather long time, and at long last, I’ve got my introduction.” He shrugs, nesting in the chair across from you, crossing one long leg atop the other. You smirk. “You’re not the only one with wiles, your highness.” You can withstand even the most grueling physical pain and torment. You’ve survived true agonies. At this rate you wager if you go along, allowing him to work you up, you can figure out why he’s here just as well. Why not go along, make him think if he gets you off, you’ll tell him everything? That way you can at least have some fun for now and possibly still accomplish something.  

 You step towards him and you watch as his eyes follow every curve of your body, making a second pass upward and stopping at your lips. You relish the look in his eyes and decide to move forward. You tower over him, giving him a moment to breathe in your scent. You grab his hair and tug his head backward, speaking into his throat. “What do you really want to know of me, my Prince? Am I all that beguiling?”  He chuckles once again. “I was sent to question you. But at this moment, I could not care less. Of my own reasons I sought your company... for my own reasons. Would you like to find out what they are?” He immediately grabs your wrist once again, freeing himself from your clutch and sitting upward, beneath you, defiantly and daringly raising his chin to you as he places a hand on each of your hips. You try to hold back the shudder but it overcomes you. He takes this as a cue and slides his thumbs up along your hip bones and cups his fingers beneath your ass cheeks. Time to move.  

 You take that last step forward, closing the gap. You swing one leg over each of his and rest on his lap, leaning in, breathing in. Burying your nose in the nape of his neck, taking in every note of him, you murmur, “What do you want now, my lord?” He runs two fingers from your collar bone to the valley of your chest, slowly tracing around. You begin undoing the front clasps of your armor, all the way down to your belt, stopping. He reaches up to your now open collar and tugs it, grinning, gazing for a moment. “Ah, a fair woman with the fairest skin. Just as I imagined... for so long.” Inviting him to peruse, you allow him to wander further. He runs fingertips along your bare stomach, stopping at the center of you, cupping it. And squeezing.  You gasp and lean forward, entrenching both hands in his hair. Pressing your lips to his and snarling, “Tell me.” He slides his tongue directly into your mouth, alongside yours, and the heat between your legs, within his palm smolders. The erupting frenzy set you ablaze. Once in a while, you’ve gotta treat yourself. And in this case, worst case, you were going to get off... and fuck a god.  

 Straddling his lap, making the slightest suggestion with your hips, circling around the rapidly hardening bulge between his thighs, you run your wet lips down to the tip of his chin, sucking it. “Say it, your highness. What do you want?” He meets your gaze again and looks down at his hand, pressed against the warmest thing in The Nine. Like a switch, the chairs disappear and you’re thrown against the awkwardly, angularly curved wall of the cell, your throat tight against Loki’s hand, while his other hand runs between your knees, up your thighs, stopping once again at the place on the map that the Dark Prince longed to conquer. “I want to ravage you, taste you, feel you, break you, render you defenseless. I’ve not wanted someone so badly in as long as I can remember.” 

 Sighing, you lean forward and he pushes your head back against the wall. He moves in close, taking your upper lip between his and slipping that silver tongue back into your mouth, coaxing you to forget about missions and intelligence, the only focus on your radar now the swell of desire raging between your legs, pulsing in his hand.  You shrug. He pulls away and takes a step back, a mischievous smirk peeling across his face. An oddly soft sensation enveloped you as your armor quickly peeled its way down to your boots, a feeling both warm and cold at the same time freeing you of your material bonds, offering you to the rightful King of Asgard as he stood before you.  You decide to be coy, to extend this moment just a little longer. “I did not ask you to will my armor off of me, my Prince. If you’re going to undress me, why not use those lovely Asgardian hands?” 

 A feral smirk flushed across his face as he shook his head, scoffing. A millisecond passes as he flew up against you again, your hair now locked in his fist and his mouth to the crook between your ear and your cheek. “Let’s not forget whose stature here is greater, my love. You will do well to kneel before me and fulfill my every command. You are a prisoner on this planet and in this moment you are MY prisoner. Now still your tongue and await my next order.” He then grabs the empty sleeves of your armor and wraps them around your wrists, binding you to yourself in the most exquisite arrangement.  

 Intriguing indeed.  

 Waving another hand in the air, he repositions you on the floor, leaning against the wall, wrists bound and connected to your ankles, nearly hogtied before royalty. He towers over you, laughing again, placing a hand atop your head. “You look stunning in this position. Fit to be Queen. A character of strong will and instinct, working her way through The Nine Realms, all in the name of knowledge. A woman unbreakable, but quite possibly bendable, right before me. Mine to experiment on. Mine to do with as I please... and it would so please me to see just how far I can bend you.” He pulls your face up to his and you slide your tongue out, leaving it pressed between your teeth. Not batting an eye at the failing mission in your midst is all too easy now. A good game is hard to find. Fuck the mission, it’s time to fuck.  

 He runs the tip of his tongue along yours, sending electric jolts straight down to the conductor itself, your slightly aching cunt. You raise your hips off the floor subtly enough to suggest you’re ready to talk terms with your body. His eyes follow, glazing by the inch, stopping at your beautiful center. Running each hand from your calf upward, he stops just short of your entrance and slides his tongue out... and in.  Incredible.  As his tongue darts within you, you feel the presence of another Loki behind you, unbinding and undressing you completely while running his mouth along your neck, finding your mouth and cupping your breasts. The Loki below you peers up for a moment, watching you preen. You lean forward as a way to beg him not to stop. He rolls back on his ankles and grins. “Shall I continue, pet?” You nod. 

 He slips back in between your legs and continues masterfully manipulating every sensation tingling through you. Gripping your thighs and pulling his face deeper into you: the very sight enough to unravel you for eons to come.��The Loki behind you grabs your face and pulls your lips to his, bringing you over the edge as you grind along and against the two Dark Princes wantonly galvanizing every last part of you. As the one before you continues lapping you up, the one behind you slides two fingers into you, undoing you in the most delightful way, entrapping you in the most delicious madness conceivable. Your body convulses as you’re released, the Loki behind you vanishes and the one before you is still within you, between your knees, on his knees.  You utter an airy chuckle as your orgasm retreats.

 Looking down at the fine Asgardian god before you, you couldn’t resist. “Who’s kneeling now, your majesty? I do so enjoy the worship in your prowess.” He pulls his head up, looking both defeated and entranced, rocking back on his ankles once again. You waste no time. At your feet, you close the distance and push him back to a seated position against the opposite wall of the cell, pinning him in place as you stretch your legs apart and straddle his lap once again. Instantly he’s disarmed, placing his hands on your back and running them up and down, digging nails into you, exhilarating you further. 

 You reach down for his cock, grasping it firmly and lean in to take to his lips again. Hungrily he meets you, tongues massaging one another as passion coursed through every vein. You pull away and up to his ear. You let out a short chuckle and slowly ask, “Do you wish to take me, my Prince? Do you crave the sensation of my wet, hot tightness gripping you deeper and deeper, greedily pulling you into me while you fight not to concede?” He stills. No woman has ever spoken to him in this manner, he’s absolutely floored. Asgardian women are demure and well behaved, it’s no wonder he’s felt his wants go unmet... for so long. 

 For the first time he decides to put the whole rightful-King-of-Asgard schtick on pause and just explore the extraordinary matter at hand. He takes a deep breath, attempting to hide how indescribably aghast he is and sighs, “That is indeed what I plan to do, little dove.” He grips your hips tightly, pulling you against him, grinding the invitation against you. You chuckle again and lean in even closer to prod, “How badly do you want to be inside of me? I can delay you.” 

 He cups you once again, slipping the slightest of fingertips within you and holds you still. “I want you more than anything,” he whispers in a nearly deadly voice. You retort, “More than the throne of Asgard?” He laughs softly and rocks forward in one motion, pushing you off of him and onto your back, flat on the floor. He waves off his armor and crawls over you, boring into your eyes, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. He leans down and begins to run the tip of his tongue along the underswell of your chest. He grabs your face between his index and thumb, pressing his forehead to yours. 

 “If you think I pleased you before, you have another thing coming. I’m going to summon you to the edge and hold you there longer than you can fucking stand. I’m going to revel in the flavor of your anticipation, the scent of your arousal, the taste of your body as you beg me to let you come. I’m going to hold you captive until you repent and plead, crying out for me to fill you, to soothe this maddening need. You will be screaming and you’re going to love every fucking moment of it. I’m going to make you come so hard that it almost hurts. You know not what I’m truly capable of, pet.”  

 ***

Oops, got a little indulgent with the smut... so there’ll be a part 2, of course. I’m just tryin’ to work ya up, let ya down n’ work ya back up again. ;)

[theangelssecondwing]

Chapter 10

It wasn‘t easy to pretend that everything was normal. While Director Lazard had promised to keep us updated, there were no news on Genesis‘ whereabouts for a long time, and he didn‘t show up again. Sephiroth and Angeal were occasionally sent on new assignments, but none of them were particularly long, and they usually returned within a day or two. Then, one day, they returned and asked Yui and me to meet up at my place again.

„Clones“, Sephiroth said grimly as we sat down on my couch.

„Clones?“, Yui asked.

Sephiroth nodded. „We were attacked by a surprising amount of people looking like exact copies of Genesis.“

„So wait, you think Hollander is out there, cloning my boyfriend?“, Yui asked, sounding positively appalled.

„It‘s a reasonable assumption, don‘t you think?“, Angeal asked. „How else could this be explained?“

„I suppose you‘re right, but the question is… why? What could he possibly gain from creating an army of Genesis clones?“, I asked.

Angeal lifted an eyebrow. „You mean apart from having an army of 1st class SOLDIER powered superhumans under his command?“

„Hm. I knew something was off about this guy, but not in the ‚establishing a clone army to take over the world‘ way.“

„Nobody had any idea just how mad this madman is“, Angeal replied grimly. „Otherwise, Shinra wouldn‘t have employed him.“

„You sure?“, Sephiroth asked in a deadpan voice. „I mean they also employ Hojo, who treats the entire world like its his third grade science kit. Shinra has a tendency to specifically employ the maddest of madmen they can find.“

„That‘s not true. You‘re not a madman“, I countered.

„Are you really sure about that?“, he asked teasingly, putting an arm around my shoulders.

„The point is: There have been no further developments, and your orders are basically to eradicate any Genesis clones and forget about the whole ordeal otherwise. It feels like Shinra has just given up on Genesis, and if we want to save him, we have to do it independently of the company“, Yui stated.

„As we have already established. But Director Lazard is keeping us busy lately. Almost like he doesn‘t want us to have the time to dwell on the topic“, Sephiroth mused. „Good thing that as 1st Class SOLDIER, we do have right to refuse certain orders. That could grant us at least a bit of time to investigate. We would only have to find out where to start.“

„I can do that!“, I exclaimed. „I work in the archives. I can get all information on Hollander, including all sites where he worked while in the employment of Shinra. Most of these sites have been abandoned by now, but I‘m sure we can find some kind of clue somewhere in one of these labs!“

„Great idea, Cora. So you gather as much intel as you can, and then we all meet up here again once you have enough, so we can plan our next step.“

The next day, during lunch break, I snuck away into the archives, which at this time were deserted. Surely there was something I could find… I was so distracted while going through the endless masses of files that I didn‘t hear the footsteps until the person they belonged to cleared their throat. I yelped and lost my balance on the ladder I was standing on, falling backwards, crashing hard onto the floor and hitting my head, so stars exploded in front of my eyes.

„Ow...“, I groaned and rubbed the back of my head until the pain subsided a little and I could see again. Luckily, the filing cabinets weren‘t particularly high, or I could have gotten seriously injured.

„Serves you right for snooping around here all alone.“

I recognized that voice. I got up, though my back was killing me. „Vice President. Sir. Is there anything I can do for you?“ I got to my feet, but wobbled a little and Rufus actually motioned to catch me in case I would fall. But I stood, so he returned to his stoic posture of keeping his arms behind his back.

„Nothing in particular. I just saw you walk in here and got curious. While I do appreciate eagerness in my staff, something tells me that you haven‘t come here during lunch break to get some extra work done.“

My breath hitched in my throat ever so slightly. But still, there was nothing hostile about him. „Who knows. Maybe I was just curious myself.“

„Did curiosity lead you to the shelf specifically dedicated to information about the researchers in our employment?“, he asked without humor.

I grit my teeth. „And if that were the case?“

„I would like to know why.“ For just a split second, there was something akin to fondness in his features, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. „You used to trust me. So why can‘t you trust me now?“

„Because we were both different people back then“, I retorted.

Rufus looked at me for just a little moment longer, before pointing at a specific part of the shelf. „You will find what you‘re looking for there. Make sure that you and your friends make short work of Hollander, and keep the whole thing quiet afterwards.“

„Huh? You know?“

He smirked. „My father is so caught up in his own ego that he doesn‘t realize what is going on around him anymore. But I‘m not like that. You should know that.“ Then he turned around, giving me a dismissive wave. „As long as what you‘re doing doesn‘t endanger Shinra Corp‘s reputation or endeavors, I will not hinder you. In fact, it seems you are more willing to be helpful than Lazard is currently. Whenever I ask about the status of the operation around finding the doctor and our wayward SOLDIER, all I get are platitudes and excuses. So go ahead, and do tell me if you need a few days off for your investigations.“

I waited until he was gone, then I scrambled up the ladder again, despite my aching back, and got out a few files that indeed contained the information I needed.

During the subsequent meeting in my apartment, which turned into a headquarter for our private missions more and more, we concluded that our best starting point would be the reactor in Sector 5 of the city. Sephiroth stayed with me the night before they wanted to go investigate it, to ease my mind since I wouldn‘t join them. We were in my bedroom, Sephiroth already lounging on my bed and reading a book while I changed into my nightgown. I had bought it a few days before, in a sudden urge to get myself some sexier nightwear. I still couldn‘t believe that a nice nightgown like that actually existed in my size. It was black silk, with spaghetti straps and lace on the hems, and ended right underneath my butt. It actually didn‘t look too bad on me. Still I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror mounted to the door of my wardrobe as if it was my worst enemy facing me. But it wasn‘t the deep self-loathing I used to feel. More like casual annoyance.

„What‘s this?“, Sephiroth exclaimed suddenly, and I turned around and approached the bed. An old photograph had slipped out from between the pages of the book. It showed a pair of children; a stern-looking boy with short, blonde hair and a pudgy girl with her dark hair in two braids.

„Oh. I completely forgot that was in there.“

But Sephiroth hardly seemed to notice me. He picked up the picture to take a closer look. „...That‘s you? With Rufus Shinra?“

„Yes“, I replied and sat down next to him.

He turned his head to me. „...I don‘t understand. I thought you hated each other.“

„That wasn‘t always the case, though.“

„Oh? Why didn‘t you tell me you used to be so close to him?“

„There are days where I forget that myself. We haven‘t really spoken to each other beyond polite, empty banter in years.“ I took the photo and gave it a long, thoughtful look, before stopping short. „Wait… is that a hint of jealousy I hear?“

„Possibly. Especially since your father seems so obsessed with you marrying him.“ Sephiroth‘s voice had become harder.

I let out a deep, resigned sigh. „And that was the problem.“

„What do you mean?“ I got comfortable, laying down next to Sephiroth. „Rufus and I used to be best friends. My father tried to suck up to the Shinras enough to make me seem like wife-material for Rufus from pretty much the moment the doctor said ‚It‘s a girl!‘. So I often spent summer vacation at the Shinra estate. Rufus and I were both rich kids with absentee parents, and we bonded over that. Became like brother and sister, we even started calling each other brother and sister eventually. He kept me safe from bullies, I brought him candy when he was frustrated. Our fathers were delighted, of course. After all, us getting along would make setting us up with each other easier, right?“

Sephiroth tilted his head attentively. „One might assume.“

„Well, no. Not in our case. As I said, we were like family to each other. But pretty much as soon as I started puberty, they upped their efforts to force us to fall in love. That went from forcing us to spend even more time together, which was honestly fine by us, to setting up ‚romantic‘ meetings for us and calling public attention to us while we were together. And it just got so uncomfortable that we started avoiding being seen together. We never said more than necessary to each other from that point onward. Then he started working for his father‘s company and he… changed.“ I paused for a bit, trying to find the right words. „It‘s true what people say. He never cried as a child. But he also wasn‘t always the complete jerk he is nowadays. But once he became involved in Shinra Corp., he became cold and cruel. And that was the end of even the last remains of our friendship.“ I tightened my hands into fists. „I will never forgive my father for this.“

Sephiroth had become a lot more relaxed while I was talking, and let me snuggle up to him. „And you shouldn‘t. I‘m so sorry.“

„It‘s okay. That‘s just how it is sometimes.“ I sniffled a little, upset by the memories of days long gone. But thanks to Sephiroth‘s warmth, I soon drifted off, the photo still in my hand.

[connoisseuroneup]

Wall Street Journal interview.

1. Where did the idea for the Sopranos shirt come from? How/why did you pick that particular shirt? Firstly, we are massive fans of the show, it still feels relatively fresh in the mind and we have watched it back from start to finish several times now, it just gets better and better. It set a new standard in television, There's a lot of great TV shows out there now, a good chunk are like Hollywood movie productions, a lot of that comes down to just how good and successful the Sopranos was. It seems pretty bizarre to think how old the show is from when it first aired, I had the first half of the series on video, so the spine of the cases sitting on the shelf together made up a portrait of Tony. There's not a week goes by where you don't watch a snippet of the show.

Obviously Tony Soprano is a great character but James Gandolfini was a superb actor and a hero of ours, his untimely passing was really hard to take, but in some strange way added to the whole cult of the show and the man. I didn't know him personally unfortunately but was really devastated when he died, friends of ours even asked us if we were OK. Our friend and regular collaborator Peter O’Toole did a nice illustration of Tony sat in the back of Satriales which is hanging on the wall beside me. 

The original idea just came as a tribute really, we make these bobble hats which have attracted a cult following over the years, we've done many things, the most famous being the one we did based on the Overlook hotel carpet from the Shining, this went crazy for us and many have been inspired by it since, you see that pattern everywhere now. We put the shirt pattern into a hat and then later linked up with Far Afield www.farafield.uk/ , a label who we collaborate with and we agreed to try and replicate the shirt, it worked out really well, a good example of what a collaboration really ought to be, combining forces. They got the pattern spot on, we changed the camp style collar to give it a more contemporary look, but it was a great thing to do. It's an ugly shirt, but it's different to a lot of things on offer out there today, that's always an appeal for us. I think this was probably one of the maddest shirts he wore in the series, or certainly the coolest one. It features quite prominently at the end of Episode 11, series 2 'House Arrest'. The camera pans out outside ‘Satriales’ to the Johnny Thunders song 'You can't put your arms around a memory' it's a perfect moment.

2. Were you all personally inspired by Tony Sopranos' style? If so why? It's a tough question that, a part of me cannot really say yes to that. He wore some really awful clothes in the series, nobody would tell him that though. Polo neck jumpers with the sleeves rolled up, two tone tops, Hawaiian shirts, weird knitted polos and pullovers Alan Partridge would be happy to wear. I think these would be more obscure brands that cost a lot of money, not your familiar names. Real old school menswear shop tackle. In one episode Tony wears a Tabasco polo shirt, it's crazy, I guess it was maybe from when he was playing golf, I'm not a huge fan of the stuff but it was cool, I'd wear one if I could find one, purely to look like Tony. A lot of the time he would be seen in his dressing gown and slippers with baggy boxers and a vest, or the 'wifebeater', then he'd be wearing a summer shirt over his vest which is a cool look, especially with a chain around the neck. Of course there were other times where it was all sharp suits, business, meetings, dinners, going to the races, the casino etc, they all looked dapper there. Then in complete contrast the whole day to day tracksuit/shellsuit thing, which I believe is known as a 'Bensonhurst Tuxedo' this is strangely cool, but hard to pull off, it's purely lounge wear for us in the UK or maybe something you could get away with on a flight or on holiday. It actually works on the larger figures for some reason too, or at least they pull it off. Some characters were cooler than others, I thought Ralph Cifaretto (Joe Pantoliano) was amongst the better dressed, though others may totally disagree, a cold hearted killer can pull off a cravat better than most. Johnny Sack with his Burberry camel coat and then you had Furio in his Napoli training gear. A lot of these were big sweaty blokes so it would have all come down to comfort. A don doesn't wear shorts, remember that? 3. Do you think Tony's style (and the style of the other characters as well) mirrors or influences where men's fashion is at right now? I'm not too sure, men's fashion is still largely dictated by the big brands and labels and what comes next the stuff people want to be seen in, people who need magazines and expensive ad campaigns to tell them what to wear. To me the show's characters are very anti-fashion, obviously bits filter through into the menswear thing, you had Michael Imperioli posing in clothing for Kith when they worked with long standing New York store Bergdorf Goodman, a lot of modern streetwear looks similar, the tracksuits and that stuff, but that could be pointed back to 1980's sportswear too. Wearing a full tracksuit or even just tracksuit pants out of the house was always a bit of a no-no amongst our ilk, it's a lot more acceptable now.

4. How was the shirt received? Were you surprised by that response? It went really well, like pretty much sold out upon the release, it was only sold online by both ourselves and Far Afield but it wasn't tiny numbers. People know they're are buying into something bit mad, a bit different, some would say they loved it but wouldn't be able to pull it off. I think it works well as something for summer, a perfect holiday shirt. Or you can sneak it under a jumper or sweatshirt in the colder months and just have that hint of it. It's one of those that those who will know will get it and many others will just think we've gone mad. That works, you don't want to please everyone. We've never been one for mass appeal.  5. Why do you think all these years later, the show still has resonance? Just so groundbreaking, it was ahead of it's time. It's a very clever and in depth show, you go thought the whole thing again and you pick up things you missed first time around. Certain seasons were stronger than others, but so much of it set a standard, the standard you see today. The music, the language, the violence, it's clever, you look up to these guys in many ways, then it quickly reminds you they are not nice people. I know folk who have never seen it, I always tell them they are really missing out, you can't not get hooked in by it. They are in for a treat, I wish I could watch it all again like that. 6. How would you describe Tony's style? Is there anything about how he dressed that influences how you'd like to dress? The one thing I like about his influence personally, is I too have a pretty crap hairline and a protruding belly, he made that acceptable. He was the main man, he didn't care, nobody could mess with him his style was for him, he also showed signs of insecurity too though, only ever privately. If that leather jacket Richie Aprile gave him still fit he could wear that and nobody would say anything. 7. You mentioned there were plans for more shirts inspired by Tony's shirts, could you elaborate? Yes, we are going to release the second one this summer, fabric tests and swatches were approved a while back. It's the shirt he wears in Season 5 Episode 2 'Rat Pack', he confronts Tony Blundetto (Steve Buscemi) after he mocked his weight in front of everyone. Hard to describe this one, a bit like a Picasso painting, abstract squares, like some 1980's sofa or curtains, but he pulls it off, he always does.

[freeyourheartandsoul]

That’s How You Know.

Prompt: Hi love! Can I request a story with Stiles (in a relationship with reader) asking his dad how he knew Claudia was the one? – anon

Author’s Note: Hi! So I loved this! However, I wasn’t sure how much interaction you wanted the reader to have. I took it as mostly a Stiles and his dad sort of thing, but I did squeeze the reader in a little bit. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and requesting! :)

Master List | WattPad

That’s How You Know.

Stiles walks into the dining room where his dad has set up their takeout dinner. It’s his first night back for the summer, and his dad made sure to order from Stiles’ favorite Chinese joint downtown. Cartons and bags of sweet and sour chicken, fried rice, Lo Mein, egg rolls, and beef and broccoli cover the dining table. It may seem like a lot of food for just two guys, but it will get eaten. It always does when they sit down for their father son dinners. Those dinners may be few and far between these days with Stiles being away at George Washington University, but they manage to squeeze one in whenever Stiles is in town. All the food gives them an excuse to catch up on life.

“So, how’s (Y/N)?” The sheriff asks his son as he takes a seat at the table.

“She’s good. Said she’ll be here in a week or two after she spends some time with her family,” Stiles answers. He slides his phone in his pocket and takes the seat diagonal from his father. “She says hello.”

“Good. I can’t wait to see her again,” Noah says with a smile. “I like her. She’s a great girl. Keeps you in line,” he finishes with a grin towards his son as he puts some Lo Mein on his plate.

Stiles laughs, “I know you do. Whenever I call, you always spend more time talking to her than me.” He jokes before taking a sip of his soda.

“What can I say? I’ve known you for twenty-one now. She’s more interesting to talk to,” his father jokes back with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Gee, thanks, pops.” They both laugh as they start their meal and enjoy the banter.

(Y/N) and Stiles met three and a half years ago in D.C. when he was in the middle of his FBI program and she was moving into the dorms at GW. He helped her with some boxes since her parents didn’t make the drive up from New Orleans with her. From that point on, they bonded over majoring in criminal justice, their love of Star Wars and all things superheroes, and how they both lost someone close to them at a young age – he his mother and she her brother. A few months after getting settled into college life, he asked her out to pizza and to see The Amazing Spider-Man. They’ve been together ever since.

He didn’t tell her about the supernatural side of his life back in Beacon Hills until a few months later when it got close to the anniversary of Allison’s death and he was in a funk. She took it like a champ and was even fascinated by it all. She helped him get through the anniversary by reminding him that it wasn’t his fault and encouraging him to talk to his friends about it. After everything they’d been through together, they needed to be there for each other on the tough days, too, she insisted. Now, after a handful of visits to Beacon Hills and friends and his father visiting him in D.C., she’s essentially become an honorary pack member – family.

After three years together, he’s starting to wonder if maybe he should make it more official. He knows without a doubt that he loves her and that she loves him. He just doesn’t want to get it wrong. Though he only got to see nine years of his parents’ marriage, he knew that’s what he wanted. He wants the one. That’s what his parents had. That’s what his dad has held onto for so many years. Stiles wants that long-lasting love, but he’s not sure how to know with certainty that (Y/N)’s the one.

“Hey, dad?” Stiles asks after swallowing a bite of sweet and sour.

Noah looks over at his son as he washes down his food with his soda, “yeah?”

“Mom was the one for you, right?” He asks a little timidly. They don’t talk about his mom that much. It’s a hard subject for them both.

His father clears his throat and sits up a little straighter, “the one?”

Stiles nods, “yeah. You know, the one,” he emphasizes. “Your soulmate. Your true love. Your heart’s desire, companion, better half… all that romantic jazz and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Noah answers with a chuckle at his son’s choice of words before taking a bite of his egg roll. Stiles just nods as he chows down on his meal, avoiding his father’s inquisitive stare. “What makes you ask?”

“Curiosity, I guess,” Stiles answers with a mouthful and a shrug.

“Uh huh… no other reasons?”

“Like what?” Stiles asks, maneuvering his tongue as if trying to get food out of his teeth.

His father wipes his hands off on a napkin. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a brunette who’s about 5’4 with big green eyes. Or the relationship you’ve been in for three years. Any of that ring a bell?”

Stiles shakes his head as he takes a sip of his soda, but his dad isn’t stupid. He stares at his son with raised eyebrows and his hands clasped in front of his plate, full interrogation mode. “Fine,” Stiles relents with a sigh. “Maybe I’m not just curious.”

“Uh huh…?”

“How did you know?” Stiles asks after releasing a deep breath, his russet eyes finally meeting his father’s piercing blue ones.  “That mom was the one for you?” He sees remnants of pain wash across his dad’s face. Even after so many years, the heartache from his mom’s death is still there. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No. I think it’s good that you’re asking.” Noah answers honestly, causing Stiles to nod in appreciation. Noah sits back in his chair and relaxes a little, contemplating his answer. “I would give you the cliché answer of ‘when you know, you just know’, but that’s not the case always. I don’t think it’s the answer you’re looking for either,” he finally says.

“So, you don’t think it’s bad that I don’t know for sure?” Stiles asks, feeling a little vulnerable.

Noah shakes his head, “No. I mean, you seem to have a general idea of the possibility. So, I think you’re off to a good start.”

Stiles swallows hard as he nods, “you and mom were married almost straight out of college. So, pretty close to my age.”

His father nods, “yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to. It was a different time back then.”

“I know,” Stiles says with a sigh. “Three years is a long time, though, and I feel like I should know by now. Don’t you?” He starts fidgeting with the food on his plate. “I mean, what if she’s already wondering? What if she knows that I’m the one for her and she’s assuming that I know she’s the one for me just because we’re still together? I don’t want her to have high hopes only for me to one day suddenly realize that she isn’t the one and rip her heart to shreds. I’m not saying I’m going to jump and marry her anytime soon. I just feel like I should know…” He finishes his long-winded ramble with a deep sigh, not looking at his dad again.

Noah tries to contain his grin over his son’s ramblings. As close as they are, they’ve never talked about this kind of thing. It’s a proud dad moment when a son comes to his father for love advice. At least for him it is. But he has to contain his pride because he knows that as soon as Stiles catches wind of it, he’ll brush everything off. Plus, he could tell this was really bothering his son, and he wanted to be there for him.

“There was this time, a few months after your mother and I started dating our freshman year, it was the week before finals, two weeks before winter break. We were stressed and a little crazed. Everyone in our study group for English Lit was on edge because it was supposed to be the toughest final. And I remember just completely biting her head off for no good reason.” Stiles’ eyebrows raise in surprise at his dad’s confession. “I mean, I jumped down her throat for trying to tell me my answer was wrong, and I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t want to hear it.” He chuckles a little as he shakes his head. “I stormed off to my dorm. A couple hours later, she pounded on my door. I swung it open in annoyance, but as soon as I saw her standing there, hair a mess on top of her head in sweats and my hoodie and the maddest face she could muster up, all my frustration melted away.” He pauses for a second, recalling the memory. “She stormed into my room giving me hell, and all I could do was grin, which only pissed her off more.” He and Stiles laugh as they remember her always doing the same with them. “And I just remember thinking, damn, I love this girl.”

Stiles laughs a little. He’s never heard that story before. “So, you’re saying I should know when we argue but I still can’t help but love her?”

Noah shakes his head, “No. I’m building up to that part. That’s just when I knew I was in love with her.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Hell yes. I was in the Army, son. I knew how short life was,” Noah states firmly, causing Stiles to nod in understanding.

“Anyway, about a year and a half or so later, your grandfather and I got into this heated argument. Words that can’t necessarily be taken back were said. Even though we had our issues, he was still my father, you know? So, it tore me up inside.” He sighed deeply, “your mom witnessed the whole thing. I was embarrassed, not only because that was my father, but because of the things I said to him. How I reacted. I didn’t want her to see that side of me. She knew the issues I had with him, but I’d never gone into detail. So, I was afraid I’d lose her. But I didn’t. She didn’t judge me or him or our issues. She was just there for me at a time when I felt I had no one. That’s when I realized I couldn’t picture my life without her.” He finishes the story, and Stiles could see the grief on his father’s face again as he fought the tears welling up in his eyes.

It causes Stiles to have to control his own emotions because now they’re both having to live life without her. He clears his throat, “so, that’s how you knew? When you realized you couldn’t live without her?”

His father nods, “partly. It wasn’t just me not being able to see a life without her, though.” He takes a sip of his soda. “I didn’t just love her and want her in my life. I needed her. Not to get all cheesy on you, but she made my bad days better and turned the good days into great days. She taught me to live life for what is and not dwell on anything.” He pauses for a minute before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, son. We had our fair share of tough times, but we learned that those arguments were trivial compared to what we had. We were better individuals when we were together, if that makes sense.”

Stiles nods, “yeah, it does.”

“So, does it answer your question?” Noah asks before continuing his meal.

“Yeah, but I still don’t think I know for sure about (Y/N),” Stiles answers with a shrug of his shoulders, feeling a tad guilty.

“I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” Noah states.

Stiles looks to his dad with knitted brows, “how so?”

“You have this notion stuck in your head that just because you’ve been with (Y/N) for three years, it means you should know your future with her.” He puts down his fork again and looks at Stiles. “Love and marriage don’t have a timeframe. Everyone moves at different paces, especially these days. You’re twenty-one years old, barely about to graduate college. You don’t have to have your life figured out yet.”

Stiles shrugs, “I guess. I just don’t want her to get like impatient and leave, you know?”

Noah smiles a little, “well I think you just realized what you’ve probably known for a while.”

Stiles looks at him a little confused, and his father only raises his eyebrows with a grin. Stiles exhales deeply, “maybe I did.” He scratches his head as he thinks about it a little more.

“And I wouldn’t be worried about her leaving you anytime soon,” Noah states before taking a bite of egg roll.

“Why not?”

His father shrugs as he swallows his bite, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and I also think she knows how young you both are and that there’s still so much you both want to see and do.”

Stiles nods again, “I guess I should probably talk to her about it, huh?”

“Probably.” Stiles starts to pull out his phone and stand from the table, but his dad ushers him to stop. “Not on the phone, and not right now. Right now, we’re finishing dinner.”

Stiles chuckles a little as he sits back down. After adding some beef and broccoli to his plate, he looks to his dad with a warm smile. “Hey, pops?” Noah looks at him with a mouthful of noodles. “Thanks. I know it’s hard to talk about mom, so I really appreciate you telling me those stories.”

Noah swallows his food and offers Stiles a tender smile, “anytime. You deserve to know.” He sucks in a deep breath, “besides, she probably would have given me hell if I let you stew over this anyway.”

They both laugh in agreement as they settle back into finishing their meals. The conversation continued with Stiles sharing his own stories with (Y/N) and his father sharing a little more about Claudia. It was nice because neither of them had ever really opened up about their relationships. Stiles has always wanted to ask about his mom, since she passed away when he was only nine years old, but he felt it would be too hard for his dad. It was also a little hard for him to think about sometimes as well. Now, though, it seems like they’ve broken down that shield of grief.

When his dad gets up to get more to drink, Stiles pulls his phone out to shoot (Y/N) a quick text message.

Stiles: just wanted to say I love you and can’t wait until you get here 😊

(Y/N): you’re the sweetest! Love you too and see ya soon! Miss your face 😊

Stiles snaps a quick funny face selfie and sends it to her.

Stiles: this one? 😉

(Y/N): hahaha! Yes, that adorable mug 😉

Stiles: well this adorable mug misses your adorable mug too

(Y/N) sends him a boomerang of her blowing him a kiss. Before he can respond, his dad walks back into the dining room, causing him to put his phone back in his pocket. His dad looks at him as he puts a beer beside his plate and chuckles.

“What?” Stiles asks in confusion.

Noah simply shakes his head, “you text (Y/N)?”

Stiles laughs a little in embarrassment as his dad sits back down. “How’d you know?”

“That stupid grin you have on your face.” Stiles ducks his head a little bashfully as Noah takes a swig of his beer. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. That grin is how I know you’ll be fine.”

“You think?” Stiles questions before taking a swig of his own beer.

“I know,” his father nods a little. “(Y/N)’s good for you. I know you won’t let her slip through your fingers.”

Stiles rubs the back of his neck, “I hope not.”

“Okay, well if you don’t believe that, then believe this: I know (Y/N) won’t let you let her slip through your fingers,” Noah says with a laugh causing Stiles to laugh as well.

The pair then slip back into casual conversation. This time, it’s more about catching up on life. Noah updates Stiles on the goings on in Beacon Hills, thankful there hasn’t been much supernatural disturbances in a while. Stiles tells him about his last classes, what’s supposed to be in store for his final year at GW, and how he and (Y/N) have talked about plans after graduation. Marriage might not be on the table just yet, but they’ve talked about moving in together. Living with two other guys and their on again-off again girlfriends is just starting to feel a little crowded, while (Y/N) is quite tired of all the girl drama with her own roommates. Plus, at this point, Stiles admits that it seems like the best next step.

Noah couldn’t agree more. He tells his son not to rush into something as serious as marriage just because he feels like he has to. He advises that they should get their footing in the “real world” and really focus on their relationship without the distraction of school before taking a dive into the deep end. However, he also encourages Stiles not to take his time with (Y/N) for granted and to take advantage of their youth and good health. After all, they know first hand just how short life can be.

Stiles takes his father’s advice to heart and promises not to lose sight of what he has with (Y/N). He knows how lucky he is to have her, and wouldn’t it trade it for anything. He even admits that she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. His father couldn’t agree more.

The End.

[theliadam]

LOVE AIN’T → WINDAM

TAGGING → Adam Li and Winnie Lilywhite ( @winemalilywhite )

TIMELINE → June 6th, 2018

SETTING → Adam’s bedroom

SUMMARY → A moment at Tia’s party sends the normalcy of Adam and Winnie’s friendship up in flames, and leaves them both needing answers. Instead, the line of questioning leads them somewhere they wouldn’t expect. Gets kinda smutty yolo ✌️

Winnie had been tossing and turning ever since she’d gotten home from Tia’s party. Maybe it was the fact that her adrenaline was still pumping in the aftermath of the fire, or maybe she was just restless because she and L’ogan hadn’t gotten to finish what they’d started. Or maybe — more likely, really — it was driving Winnie crazy that Adam hadn’t texted her back to answer any of her plethora of questions. He’d responded long enough to make sure she got home safely, and then he’d been freezing her out, and every time Winnie shut her eyelids, she could see his shocked face in her head, and maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but it felt like more to her. More than just a friend who was grossed out by walking in on his bestie having sex, more than just surprise — and Winnie finally rolled out of her bed, tossed a hoodie on over her pajama shorts and tank top, and found herself out in the cool night air, wide awake even before it hit her face. She didn’t even think about it, just let reflex carry her until suddenly she was at Adam’s window, knocking loudly on it, not caring whether he was asleep or not. She needed him to answer, she needed to see him face to face — Winnie needed to know what his reaction meant, if she was ever going to get any peace of mind.

Adam didn't usually have trouble going to sleep. In fact, it was one of the things he bragged about most, being able to knock out anytime. Something about tonight, though, was off. It was probably that it was too hot, but even after he kicked back his covers and tossed off his shirt, nothing. Maybe it was extreme embarrassment from the party. As if seeing your best friend mid-fuck wasn't traumatic enough, there was the part after where he'd, well, accidentally set things on fire. He couldn't stop replaying it in his head, as though if he imagined it enough times, it would start to make sense, but still, none of it did. Winnie leaving him at a party to hook up with someone, L'ogan  no less, and the way it'd all dissolved so soon after, was enough to make him feel a little crazy. He was glad everyone had turned out fine and no one had gotten hurt, but he still didn't feel like showing his face any time soon. He didn't want anyone to see him. Or, as a sharp tapping on his window caught his attention, it occurred to him that maybe he didn't to see anybody either, or at least not Winnie. He'd turned off his phone as soon he made sure she was okay, because he wasn't sure what he'd say to her the next time he saw her or even what she'd want to know; however, even before he pulled back the curtain he had a feeling that it was her at his window. He couldn't imagine anyone else who'd come see him after that fiasco. He hoped he was wrong, though, and a knot tied behind his abs at the sight of her face, flashing back to the last time he'd seen it, contorted in pleasure... He squeezed his eyes shut, willing that image away as he slid open the glass panel. "Hey," he tried, a small smile crossing his face. Despite it all, it was good to see Winnie, even if it felt a little different now in a way he wasn't totally sure of. "Um, what's up? Do you wanna come in?" he asked, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, trying to act like it was any other night.

“Not really,” Winnie said truthfully, although she was already swinging one leg over his window ledge and clambering inside like she’d done so many times before. She didn’t usually get nervous, not even around Adam or Rafe in the heyday of her crushes on them, but nervousness was bone-deep tonight. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe Adam had just been confusing her lately and she was making it into something it wasn’t in her head, and he was going to tell her he didn’t care what she did or with who. Or worse — maybe he was going to tell her his reaction had been the L’ogan of it all. The dude had a history with Tia and Izzie; maybe Adam had felt more on his Valentine’s date than he’d admitted and was mad on Izzie’s behalf or something. That thought felt even crazier, though, bordering almost on a conspiracy theory of annoying popular girl proportions, and the realization should have helped Winnie to just spit out the questions Adam hadn’t answered earlier. Instead, though, she grumbled at how suddenly warm it was, peeling her sweatshirt over her head, feeling her tank top underneath pull up to reveal her stomach as she did so. In one fell swoop, she tossed the sweatshirt at his head and smoothed her shirt. “You guys keep it stupidly hot in here,” she informed him. “Is that the real reason why you torched Tia’s party early? Walt beaches not warm enough for you?” She asked scathingly, mentally cursing herself for not just getting to the point.

Adam was about to say that she didn't have to come in, then, because truthfully he wasn't sure he wanted her in his room either, but then she was in anyway and all he could do was look at her. Or, well, try to; it probably would've been more accurate to say that it was all he could do to look at her for a few seconds, avert his gaze to her surroundings, and back to her again. It became harder to look away, though, when her sweatshirt came off and his eyes flickered down to her bare stomach. The knot that had formed in his stomach lurched at the sight. Why was he thinking about Winnie naked right now? It only served to make him more uncomfortable, if uncomfortable was even what he was feeling. Taking a step back and away from her, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest. His throat went dry at the way she asked, like she was mad at him or something. Maybe she should be, but it wasn't something he was up to dealing with right now. Honesty. Honesty was the best policy, and so he took in a deep breath to apologize. "I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't like I wanted, you know, that to happen. I didn't mean to ruin the party or anything else. It just happened. And everyone's okay and safe and so, I don't know, if you're here to be mad at me for it, could it wait till the morning? I'll be just as embarrassed then but hopefully better rested."

“I’m not mad,” Winnie shot back defensively. Then she amended her statement, adding a “yet” to the end that gave her room to change her mind, if she didn’t like what he had to say. And especially if he didn’t say anything at all; that would make Winnie the maddest. If she had so many thoughts bouncing around in her head and so many things she was thinking, and Adam was just silent on the subject all together. “I’m just… confused. I don’t know.” Winnie sized up Adam’s body language, the way he stepped away from her, the way he leaned as far away as he could get and folded his arms over his chest… Closed off. Like she probably wasn’t going to get anywhere, but she had to try. She mirrored his movements, crossing her arms over her chest, too, and letting out a heavy sigh. “Why were you in the lifeguard shack at all, Adam? I mean — were you trying to stop me from having any fun? Were you coming to apologize? Did you miss me? Were you just scoping out your own hookup spot and ended up in there totally on accident?” Each question felt more obnoxious than the last to her; if he were the one asking her instead, she’d have rolled her eyes to infinity and beyond, but it seemed that tonight, Winnie couldn’t stop herself from slipping dangerously close to what she’d always viewed as crazy girl territory. “And what was that face? You just looked…” Winnie huffed, trying to find a good word for it that wouldn’t give away her most closely guarded secret all in one fell swoop; in the end, she still felt like she’d failed. “Why did you look at me like that?”

Adam tried not to raise a brow at how her words and her tone contradicted each other, but failed when she tacked on the 'yet'. "Yet", like he was doomed to mess up no matter what happened. He felt that way around Winnie a lot lately, and he knew it was his fault for leaving without saying goodbye, but it was starting to seem like he'd never be able to make up for that. He either ignored her too much or she felt like he was hiding her or he brought her to parties and had such a good time with her, and somehow all of that was the same degree of wrong, wrong, wrong. He was tired of being wrong and being confused, and though it was almost a comfort to know she was confused too, that relief only lasted as long as it took for her to start asking questions. His brow crinkled immediately, his arms tightening around himself. "What? No!" His voice was still low but he could hear it rising in intensity as the feeling of being attacked took over. "Why the heck wouldn't I want you to have fun? Especially since being around me so much made you miserable, I'm glad you got your kicks with someone ," he almost spat, surprising himself with how hurt he sounded by that. He cleared his throat to continue as impartially as he could, steadying his tone and his face as he shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "I wasn't stalking you or anything, I don't know. I just - you were gone and I wanted to know where you went. I didn't know that I'd find what I did, but it wasn't like I was there to stop it and yeah, I'm sorry for how it all went down, but I didn't mean to. It just kind of...happened." He swallowed thickly, his throat almost in pain by the time he got to the end. He blinked in surprise at the mention of his face. He didn't know if he'd looked as overwhelmed as he'd felt, but suddenly he felt like a new kind of exposed, as if he were the one who'd been caught having sex and not her. "I, uh, don't know what you mean," he stammered, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. Avoidance. He was avoiding the answer but he wasn't sure why. It felt like there were a million reasons his face looked the way it had and he couldn't vocalize any of them, and instead he blurted, "I just... I didn't see me, I don't know what my face looked like. And you probably didn't get a good look either. In case you forgot, you were otherwise occupied."

Winnie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had told her that was bad for diplomatic relations — that it always played her card and made it hard to negotiate with anyone. And Winnie didn’t mean to act superior or like she thought that what people were saying was beneath her; sometimes, it just happened, and her feelings were plain as day on her face. Right now, though, she hoped her face was impassive. If she couldn’t stay neutral looking, if she couldn’t hold her cards close to her chest, then Adam would realize that the reason this all was so hard for her was because of her stupid, un-buriable feelings for him, and that was hardly something she even wanted to deal with. She certainly didn’t want to have to see how grossed out he was by that information, or deal with the fallout of him knowing. Still, the fact that she was even here fighting him at all… She had to hope that Izzie wasn’t home, or that Adam would keep this close to his chest and not talk to anyone about it. He might be dense, but it seemed like elementary to anyone else, she was sure. “I don’t want to have this same fight with you again,” Winnie reminded him, knowing she’d near well blown up at him at the party, too. “I get it, I’m awesome, but you’ve been going to those parties for years and hanging out with God knows who doing God knows what. It was just… a lot, that you wanted to spend every second of the thing with me. It felt… I don’t know, fake, and confusing.” Winnie ran her fingers through her short hair, tugging on the ends of it to try and keep herself from unloading the whole rant she’d made earlier on him again. He didn’t even know he was making things harder for her by caring too much. And she didn’t want to tell him, either, so it was almost like they were at an impasse. “So you make that face everytime you’re surprised?” Winnie challenged, taking a step closer to him, hating the distance he had put between them even more than she hated the stupid magnetic pull she felt towards him. She was scared to invade his space, scared to get too close… but she still didn’t stop until she was within an arm’s length, so close he could reach her if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to; that much was clear to her, that much had always been clear to her, and she glared up at him, gritting her teeth together for a second. “Because you don’t, Adam, I’ve never seen you look like that before and I just… don’t get why. Were you mad? Disappointed? Confused? If you really think it’s the same way you always are, and you really think it’s not a big deal, then why did you just stop talking to me? Why are you acting like… whatever this is that you’re acting like?” Winnie demanded, waving towards his closed-off body language and his impossible to read expression.

Adam couldn't get a clear reading on Winnie at all right now, and that kind of scared him; not even when she brought up the almost-fight they'd had was he sure how she was feeling. He'd first thought she was angry because, well, she was here , but now that he was trying to dissect whatever it was that made the air feel so hard to breath, he knew it had to be more. Had he embarrassed her that fully? First among all their peers, and then with L'Ogan? He hadn't thought their opinions meant much to Winnie, she'd given him enough grief about how it was weird that they mattered so much to him, but maybe it was different when she was among them. An intoxicating environment, Adam knew, could do a lot. "You say that like I'd be doing something ridiculous if you weren't there," he pointed out. "I'd be doing what I was doing with you with whoever was around instead, it's not major. I didn't think it was a bad thing to want to spend the party with you, but then again, I also didn't realize you were on the hunt." He hated himself for how almost aggressive that lest sentence sounded and he took a breath, trying to force himself to have some chill as he smiled and added, "Win, if you'd told me that's what you were there for, I would've, I don't know, backed off or something." The last part came out basically whispered, because it felt like a big old lie as he was saying it. After all, if he'd known her endgame for the night had been L'Ogan sex, he would've tried harder to stop it, wouldn't he?

But why? Winnie was great, she deserved to have sex if she wanted to, and his mom would be so disappointed if she thought he was trying to make a woman's choice for her. So why did it matter? Why did it bother him? Not being able to figure it out was scary, like staring at an exam he knew he'd studied the answer to but just couldn't remember, but it wasn't as scary as Winnie closing in. He didn't want her that close, things were different now, and he didn't want to be different in close quarters, but he couldn't move. He was frozen to his spot and to his argument that his face had been, well, just a normal face - it was a dumb argument, since he was sure his face now wasn't a normal face either. He opened his mouth to say "I don't know" but that was a non-answer and it wouldn't help anything, and if anything she was just getting angrier and more frustrated. She didn't show it as much as he could feel it wafting off of her, her air mixing with his. And then she gritted her teeth and his eyes flickered down and he paused. What was happening to his brain right now? 

"I don't know what I'm acting like, don't you get that?" he insisted, finally looking up from her mouth. His fists tightened, then dropped to his sides. "I want to give you an answer, Win, I really do, but I can't. All I know is that I needed some space to get my head back to normal." And even as he said he wanted space, his body betrayed him and took a step closer to hers, as if being closer would make him look taller and make him feel less exposed than he did. "But even if I don't know what this is, I can promise you that I'm not angry. Confused? Sure. Disappointed? I don't know. There's a bunch of stuff in here, but mad? I think you're the only one here that is and I'm sorry. I wish I could've done the night differently. That it could've ended differently."

Winnie scoffed at his comment. “On the hunt? Yeah, right. It just happened, it wasn’t like… planned,” she pointed out, looking up into his eyes, searching for something that probably wasn’t there. Like jealousy, or some kind of wish that it had been him instead — Winnie shivered a little at that thought, even though the room was hot and so was her temper. She’d buried any thought of Adam as more than a friend for so long, and she hated how it was kicking back up into full gear at the worst time possible. She would have given anything to just turn around and climb out the window and leave it alone, to wake up and pretend that nothing had happened. But she couldn’t do that and she knew it; she’d just go back to her cottage and not be able to sleep and wish she had answers all over again. “I don’t want L’ogan, I’ve only ever wanted…” Winnie trailed off, frustrated again, but at least her voice was a little softer, trying to match the tone in Adam’s. He was whispering, like maybe if he was quiet enough she and her stupid loud feelings would have to quiet down until they disappeared. And it was working, for the time being. Winnie had been so close to blurting out that the only person she’d ever really wanted was him, but instead, she chewed on her bottom lip before saying, “I don’t know, I guess it was just nice to feel like someone wanted me for a change. Like, really wanted me, and not like I was just invisible next to stupid blonde girls or… whoever.” Winnie turned her head towards the ceiling, unable to believe what she’d just said out loud. How much more obvious could she get? It was hard to keep her gaze away from him for long, though, especially when she could feel him getting closer. If this whole thing was so stupid, if coming here was a mistake… then why was he getting closer instead of just pushing her out the window and telling her to get away? “I don’t get it! I definitely don’t get it, or else I wouldn’t be asking, Adam,” she told him bringing her hands up to rub her eyes. She felt tired — tired of hiding it, tired of pretending her feelings weren’t there, tired of herself reading into things that didn’t mean anything. How could she make it stop? Winnie just wanted to make it stop, wanted to find a way to make this stop coming back everytime she thought it was gone, find a way to make Adam stop giving her false hope he didn’t even know he was giving her. “I’m not even mad at you, I’m mad at me. I’m mad that I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks in this stupid town but you, I’m mad that you only care when it’s convenient and that I always keep coming back to caring what you think anyway, I’m mad that… that I can’t make this go away when there isn’t even a this at all.” Winnie’s words came out rushed, frantic, not even making any sense. So much for the diplomacy and holding her tongue that her mother preached; she couldn’t even manage to form a logical statement of her feelings for her best friend, for the stupid boy that she was in stupid love with even after all this time. 

“And it sucks, you know? Because when you say you wish it had ended differently, you mean you wish you’d never brought me, or that you’d never seen anything, and if I said it, I’d just wish that I’d been with you instead.” For all she’d thought she wanted to see his face again, to read his reaction and to figure out what it meant… Winnie turned on her heel instead, horrified that she’d gotten no answers out of him and had only answered questions he’d never even asked instead. “Forget it. I don’t even know why I came here, just… forget all of it,” she said with her back turned towards him, willing her feet to move, wishing that she’d just leave instead of staying rooted to the spot like she still expected some kind of response that could be anything but awful for her.

Adam looked down and shrugged. “If you say so,” he murmured, not totally convinced. After all, if Winnie had wanted to take someone to bone town, it explained why she seemed so exasperated at Adam’s constant presence, and to find her with someone like L’ogan was highly suspect. Even so, Adam was almost immediately convinced that Winnie spoke the truth by the way her voice sounded when she started up again. His eyes came back up to meet hers and maybe it was the way she looked or the way she spoke or the fact that she brought up feeling invisible next to stupid blonde girls, but Adam felt his throat go dry. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? No. It was impossible. There had to be another explanation. Adam’s forehead furrowed as his brain kicked into overdrive, trying to come up with another guy, any other guy, or a girl even, with a rumored proclivity towards blondes. He couldn’t. It all pointed to him, and even as he tried to stop himself from producing evidence, clips and snippets of their friendship flashed before his eyes: how betrayed Winnie had been when he’d left and how she’d forgiven him anyway, the animosity she’d had towards Charlie, her distrust of STI, the way she always had an eggroll or two if he needed them. It felt conceited and wrong and stupid  to think that Winnie thought about him in any way other than her bonehead friend who she had to protect from himself, but as she kept talking, he couldn’t stop thinking what if, what if, what if like a mantra. He couldn’t even tell how the possible idea made him feel, if it filled him with apprehension or glee, but when she started calling him out, the barbs hit him like sharp swords to the gut and it gave him an idea. Adam didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew what he didn’t want, and he didn’t want to be the guy who made Winnie feel used. He didn’t want to be the guy who she had to keep fighting for when she should know she already had him. He didn’t want to be the guy who negated that a ‘this’ of some sort existed, or the guy who hadn’t even realized ‘this’ existed until he was scared that it was vanishing. Most of all, when she said that she wished it’d been him instead, Adam knew from the way his heart sped up that he didn’t want to be the guy who’d never brought Winnie to the party, or the guy who’d seen her get down and dirty. He’d wanted to be the guy with her. As quickly as the relief and impact of figuring something out came, so too came the panic when Winnie turned away. Adam knew he needed to think of the right thing, something smart and succinct that would sum up all the questions and answers he suddenly had in the face of his epiphanies, but words were failing him. Besides, no matter how often he’d told WInnie that she mattered the most to himt, she never seemed to believe him. With Winnie, actions spoke louder than words, and there was suddenly an action that Adam couldn’t keep himself from doing. So, with all the desperation of someone with a million things to say and only one chance to say it, he reached out and spun her back around in one swift motion, offering one loaded and hungry look into her eyes before grabbing hold of either side of her face and pressing his lips against hers.

Winnie didn't know how long she stood there, frozen in place, willing herself to leave. It could have been seconds or minutes or maybe even hours, although if that were the case the sun probably would have crept into the room by now and mercifully gotten rid of all the shadows that she'd just cast over them. Had she really said that? Why had she said that? Winnie knew she wasn't Adam's type, had told herself a thousand times that he'd never see her that way -- and they'd had a good thing going. A great friendship, one that was blissfully uncomplicated for him at least, and one that should have been able to withstand anything, even some stupid feelings. But could it really? Winnie had never meant to have to find out, and her breath hitched as Adam spun her around and grabbed hold of either side of her face. What was about to happen? Winnie's eyes flicked down to his lips for a stupidly hopeful second, then back up to his eyes, feeling a little bit afraid. Did he want her to be looking him right in the face when he told her she was right, and that her anger was wrong and her feelings were wrong and everything she was doing tonight was just wrong, wrong, wrong ? Winnie barely even had time to breathe, though, before Adam shattered all her expectations in the best way possible. His lips weren't as gentle as she'd always imagined they'd be -- they were hungrier, more forceful, like they were searching for something. And maybe they were; Winnie had dumped so much on him, and had expected disgust, or even betrayal that she'd hidden how she really felt for so long. Instead, though, he was kissing her in a way that made her knees feel weak, and that seared her lips and erased any memories of kisses that had come before this one, even kisses that were from earlier tonight. And maybe it didn't make sense; maybe it was sudden, and unexpected, and maybe Adam didn't even mean it... But God , Winnie had waited for a moment like this for so long, and despite her better judgment, Winnie didn’t want to let the moment go. Tonight had just been one mistake after another, but if this was the last mistake she ever made with Adam before he cut her out of his life completely or ran away to soccer camp to ignore his problems again? Then at least it was a mistake that lit her entire body on fire, and made her heart roar in her chest, and left her desperately trying to tangle her hands in his hair and pull him flush against her body as she kissed him back with all the force of four years of pent-up feelings. At least it was a mistake that, regardless of whether he picked her up and carried her to his bed or pushed her away or did none of the above, she’d probably treasure forever.

Adam knew that Winnie’s brain and feelings were a mystery to him sometimes, but for the very first time he thought he knew exactly what was going on. A cocktail of fear and confusion and hope that must have mirrored his look until a few minutes ago reverberated from her like a crowd jeering in a stadium but as their lips made contact, it was like everything took a breath. The boos turned to roaring cheers in the packed arena that was his mind and if she felt half of what he did, Adam would know he’d succeeded in kissing the bad away. And then her hands were in his hair and he let out a sigh against her lips and he knew that he was doing this right. There wasn’t a lot of time to think about it, though, because the way she kissed back left little room for thought. It left little room for anything, really, aside from wanting more. One of Adam’s hand ventured down Winnie’s body hungrily, experimentally. His fingers grasped down her smooth arm and onto the curve of her hip which he could feel through the thin fabric of her tank top that suddenly felt like too much clothing. It was enough to coax his other hand down, and he gripped her hips tightly against his making the muscles in his stomach tighten. His hands roamed around her curves, her waist, her back, unable to stop himself from marveling at the fact that he’d seen Winnie a million times before in a million different lights, but never like this. It wasn’t that he didn’t know Winnie was hot. He wasn’t blind. But still, he’d never pictured Winnie like this before, mainly because he thought he wasn’t allowed. Now that she was giving him permission, though, he wasn’t going to let it pass him by. His hands dipped down over her shorts, simultaneously squeezing her ass and drawing her closer to his ever hardening member. If he’d had known the evening would lead here, he would’ve stopped and asked himself if this was really a good idea - he’d decided he was against sex without feelings, after all, and Winnie was his friend, his noncomplicated friend who deserved the respect that a conversation about their emotions and wants and needs would warrant - but in the moment, he couldn’t force himself to stay on any of those thoughts for too long. He was too busy lifting Winnie up against him so that he could turn and take the few steps necessary before lifting them both down onto his bed, kissing her hard and pressing her body down onto the mattress with his own.

It was official, Winnie had to be dreaming. She’d pictured telling Adam how she felt about him for ages; she’d never been scared of anything else, after all, and she hadn’t seen any reason to be scared of a dumb thing like feelings. But the first time she’d tried, he’d told her he was going out with Charlie La Bouff. The next time she’d decided she should? He’d been gone , vanished without a trace, and it seemed the longer she waited, the more she’d have to lose. Every time she’d pictured it now, it was just rejection after rejection after rejection. It was never this, it was never Winnie gasping as she felt him harden against her or losing her breath from the way he kissed her, and it definitely had never been the weight of him on top of her on his bed, circling her in some kind of protective sphere where the world didn’t exist, where it was just him and her, and her and him, and all the worries and the anger and the stress of her secret could fade away. And her dreams definitely, definitely hadn’t been her hands roaming over his taut abs with a whine about how fucking hot he was. Or Winnie pulling out of his grasp only long enough to tug her own tank top over her head and let her bare skin press against his, and to give his hands somewhere new to roam. It hadn’t been her hands moving from his abs down dangerously lower, not even bothering to tease through clothes before they were underneath his waistband and wrapping around him, moaning into his mouth as his hands followed her lead and pulled her tiny pajama shorts out of the way. And it certainly hadn’t been exploring more and more body parts until it seemed like neither of them could stand it any longe, because hands just weren’t enough and they needed more. And imagination Winnie? She’d never dared to dream that Adam would be urgently reaching into his top drawer and rolling on a condom because he couldn’t get enough of her , yet Winnie was seeing it with her own eyes. It felt like it was happening much too fast and not fast enough, all at the same time, and she waited impatiently, wanting to feel him, tugging him back towards her the second it was on. So maybe Winnie wasn’t dreaming after all. Because she’d never let herself dream this far, dream this big, imagine this happening between them. And the fact that she hadn’t let herself think this would ever happen? It only made her cry out in pleasure when it really did and suddenly Adam was inside of her. Winnie’s legs wrapped around his waist, wanting desperately let him in further, to let him feel everything and to let him have all of her. And maybe, in that deep, dark, pessimistic corner of her mind... maybe in part she wrapped her legs around him so tightly in fear, wanting so badly to keep him there even though all of this was starting to seem too good to be true.

Every noise Winnie was making shot straight down Adam s body, egging him on like she always had. She’d always challenged him, encouraged him, supported him, meant the world to him - he’d spend the rest of his night wondering how he’d never seen it before, but for now it was the best thing in the world to soak each other in. He let out almost a choked gasp as he felt her hands find new places on his body, and before he knew it, he and Winnie were closer than they’d ever been. Nothing was between them, not secrets, not other girls, not clothes - nothing. And it was amazing. Or at least it was at first. Sinking in and out of her was a mind-blowing feeling. He’d had sex before, but never with someone who kept him this close, and the noises, damn , the noises - he’d never imagined something like that coming out of Winnie before, especially not because of him, and it kept him going strong. He kissed any part of her body that he could reach, his kisses softer now that his lower half was doing most of the work. He focused on her neck for a while, sucking experimentally near her collar bone, hoping to elicit some more of those noises that she’d never made before. Well, maybe not never . And that thought marked the beginning of the end as it dawned on Adam, with sudden clarity, that Winnie may have very well been making those exact noises earlier. Merely hours ago! It wasn’t that long ago at all, really, that he’d seen her being screwed by L’ogan, his body exactly where Adam’s had been… Adam gasped as he suddenly went limp. This could not be happening. It was way too embarrassing and way too inconvenient to be real, and yet it was, and he was thankful that Winnie’s leg’s hold on him had loosened because he had no choice but to roll off of her. He covered his face with his hands in shame, his body still buzzing with adrenaline and energy that had now been dubbed unusable by his penis the traitor. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled through his hands. He risked a peek at Winnie through his fingers before shakily putting his hands down and deciding to just be honest. “I’m sorry, I just started thinking about you and L’ogan and it just - “ he cut himself off, shrugging uselessly. Adam licked his lips, wanting to offer to go down on her and finish it off, but the thought of his tongue where L’ogan’s penis had been mere moments ago was too much and, frankly, made him feel kind of sick. He had to offer something though, say something , or risk losing possibly the best thing that had happened to him before it really started, but he was in a panic and coming up blank.

Winnie should have known it was too good to be true. Her brain had spent too long being too sure that Adam would never want her, and maybe for a few brief moments he’d lost his mind and gotten caught up in the wave of her emotions... but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t mean to be real, and the second he was off of her and burying his head with his hands, any thought Winnie had had of telling him her feelings making things better went out the window. She didn’t know what he was about to say, what excuse or apology she was about to hear, but her blood was already running cold as she clutched at Adam’s comforter and wrapped it around he exposed body. Whatever he had to say hardly mattered; Winnie had made things worse , there was no way around it. Truthfully, she’s been expecting him to say that it was about her. That he just liked feeling wanted, but that he didn’t want her to want him. Stupid, nagging insecurities that she didn’t usually feel in any other situation always came rushing up when she was with Adam, and Winnie hated it. She hated that he could make her feel so good one moment — make her feel more than anyone else in the whole world — and the next she was lower than low, all by his design. Whether he knew it or not, he had this hold over her, and Winnie hugged her arms around her chest as he started talking, bracing herself for words that would only seal their demise. She should have just gone home. She should have just left and salvaged their friendship. Instead, for the second time that night, she’d started something that she couldn’t even finish, and her body felt numb as Adam called attention to that very fact. “L’ogan doesn’t matter!” Winnie insisted instantly. “I don’t care about L’ogan, I care about _you_.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering how she’d have felt if he’d been hooking up with Izzie or something earlier in the night. She didn’t think it would have changed anything, though; God, she’d wanted nothing but Adam for so long that he could have been with a dozen girls in the last hour and she wouldn’t have cared as long as she finally got to be with him. It was pathetic, wasn’t it? She hated feeling pathetic, but her unwanted feelings were starting to make her desperate. And worse, their bodies had played tricks on her, let her think... Winnie closed her eyes, and she could still feel Adam all around her. It had been so much more than she’d ever dreamed it could be, and to him it just... wasn’t enough. To him some stupid pride thing about L’ogan getting to her first was more important than how right everything had felt for Winnie when they’d been together like that. But their bodies lied, because now Adam’s spoke a whole different story, one of disgust and repulsion and just... all the things Winnie had expected. “Just forget it,” she spat bitterly, afraid of saying more and getting mad again. What was even the point of fighting for something he didn’t want after all? “Can you... turn the other direction or something while I find my clothes?”

Adam was having trouble breathing, as if the situation wasn't embarrassing enough - it wasn't that he was out of breath from the sex, it was something else, something worse. Was he really having a panic attack right now? It wasn't something that happened often, maybe only twice in his life before, but he could feel himself ruining everything and had no idea how to stop it. What was there even left to say? That his brain had conjured up the worst image possible to ruin the mood? He couldn't even explain why, not without sounding like a complete and total moron who was scared of something so important. This felt important to him, at least, and it only raised the urgency when Winnie said what she said. She cared about him . She cared, and he ruined their first night together by being what, jealous? Fearful? Awkward? Now she was mad at him all over again and this time he knew exactly why. The ground was slipping out from beneath him as she asked him to turn away. He almost felt like if he turned away from Winnie right now, it would be turning away from any possibilities with her in the future, and he didn't want to do that. He couldn't do that. He'd never considered Winnie as a possibility because she was too good for him in every sense of the word, but now that she was here, he could hardly imagine anyone else. "Winnie, stop!" He bit his lip, sitting up a little to look at her. "I mean, uh, if you want to get your clothes, you can, but I don't.... want you to leave," he managed, looking up at the ceiling as if to give her the privacy she requested in order to find her outfit. "I didn't stop because I wanted you to leave. I don't care about L'ogan either. I care about you , which is why I wanted to be thinking about you and not what I saw earlier and..." Adam trailed off, not sure he knew how to proceed. "I just mean that this feels important. And my mind likes to run from important and it ran too far and I'm sorry, but I don't want to leave this . Whatever this is. Does that... am I making any sense?" he asked, keeping his eyes trained to the roof respectfully.

Winnie wished she had it in her to believe Adam. She really, really did, but she knew how much her friend hated conflict, and that’s what this felt like: a conflict, and a pretty big one to boot. She didn’t know how to not be mad, and she didn’t even know if it was really at him, or at herself for getting her hopes up. “It’s probably not important,” Winnie muttered bitterly as she scooped her shirt up off the floor and pulled it back over her head, her back squared away from Adam.

The words didn’t feel true even as she said them — it was so important, it was the most important thing to her. He was the most important thing to her, and he had been for longer than she cared to remember. But what was this for him? Would he forget the whole thing tomorrow? Would he wake up and think she was a mistake? Winnie knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes change again, couldn’t handle it if she felt the shift in the air as he decided that something more than friendship between them was wrong. She prided herself on being tough, but that might kill her. And so she stood, hearing his mattress shift without her weight on it any longer, and pulled her shorts back on too, shimmying uncomfortably as she tried to deal with the longing ache still between her legs. She wished she could turn back around, could go right back to how they’d been — to feeling blissfully complete and happy.

But life didn’t work like that, and Winnie’s body was just going to have to catch up with the rest of her and deal with it.

“Maybe some other time,” she whispered, a little more sadly than she’d meant to. “But I don’t want to be here while you get over yourself and figure out what you actually want. I just... I can’t,” Winnie said, folding her arms over her chest protectively again, too afraid to look at him and meet his eyes. Staying here would be for his benefit, not for hers, and God, she always was willing to drop things and do what made him happy. But not this time. This time, she needed to leave and take care of herself. She padded quietly towards the window, ignoring the urge to reach out and touch him, to tell him it would be okay. Because she didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Instead, she tugged his window open again and whispered so low she hoped he couldn’t even hear it, “I love you, you stupid idiot,” before she hopped over the ledge and back out into the warm summer night.

[raywritesthings]

A Different Return 2/?

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor, Shaun Temple Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: When an accident brings Donna Noble back just before the Doctor’s prophesied death, how might events change? AO3 link

This was shaping up to be the maddest Christmas Donna had ever had. And considering Christmases past, that was saying something.

Well, firstly, she could actually remember what had occurred on that previous Christmas. And for another, she found herself once again running hand in hand through London with her mad Spaceman.

“So where are we going?”

“Away from the ambulance for now! It’s a lucky thing we got everything sorted before they showed up. I do not want to end up in the morgue again!”

Donna rolled her eyes, not even bothering to ask. “Ought to have thought of that before you stepped into oncoming traffic.”

“Well, you said you were distracted by Shaun, didn’t you? Sounds like two parties were at fault to me.”

She shot him a look. “I thought you were dying, you prawn! I felt bad!”

“Then why did Shaun say you were yelling at him?” The Doctor looked at her, his brows furrowed in genuine concern. “What were you fighting about?”

Donna’s gaze dropped to their feet hitting the pavement. “It was stupid. He wants to go all out for the holiday this year, but we haven’t got the money, have we? I mean the recession’s not over just cos America’s got a new president.”

He didn’t reply. Of course he didn’t; those kinds of problems weren’t a part of the Doctor’s world. She felt silly even bringing it up.

It was getting hard to carry the conversation being short of breath and all, so Donna huffed, “Look, can whatever the thing you were doing wait for a few minutes? I think we’ve got to get caught up.”

He sighed. “Yeah, alright. Come on, I know a place.”

They slowed their pace to a walk, though their hands remained linked. Donna was afraid to let go, sure that this had to be a dream of some kind and waking would cause her to forget it all again.

He caught her looking and smiled. Donna was glad to see it. Each time he did so, it seemed to take some of the lines off his face. Lines that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. God, how long had it been?

He directed them inside a cafe, and Donna glanced across the street. “Oh, that is so weird. I was just over there a little bit ago!”

Doing the shopping, totally unaware of anything greater going on in the world. She felt like an entirely different person now living an entirely different life. The life she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.

The Doctor went to lead them to a table, but Donna tugged him to a stop.

“Hold on, we have to get something. Are you carrying any money?”

“Um, not sure,” he muttered. Before he could start digging around in his ridiculous pockets, she laid a hand on his arm.

“That’s alright, I’ll get this one.”

“Donna, you just said you didn’t want to spend unnecessarily.”

“A bit of tea won’t hurt.”

They reached the front of the line and ordered.

“And you two are together today?” Their cashier asked in a way that was an assumption.

“No,” Donna answered automatically. “I mean, yeah, we’re paying together, we’re just not together, you know?”

A glint of metal on her left hand caught her eye as she waved it between them, and Donna was brought up short noticing it for the second time. She was engaged again.

She remembered the nearly desperate elation — She wasn’t too old or fat or stupid. She wouldn’t die alone. She could finally see a way for herself out of her mother’s house. — and it felt like some other woman’s worries.

She was Donna, but she wasn’t the Donna who had finished nearly the whole bottle of wine on their first date because her friends had always said she was a funny drunk. She wasn’t the Donna who had pushed herself into going back to temping even though it made her not want to get out of bed in the morning simply because he’d rather be part time than get a proper office job. She wasn’t the Donna who had cried and called his proposal the happiest day of her life.

She wasn’t the Donna that Shaun loved.

“I’ve got it,” the Doctor interjected, breaking her out of her reverie.

Donna took the opportunity to leave the counter and find a table. She sunk into a chair and placed her head in her hands.

Shaun. What was she going to do about Shaun?

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up at the sound of the Doctor’s voice. “Nothing. Just thinking. It’s a lot to process, in case you didn’t realize.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, placing her cup in front of her and taking his own seat.

“Don’t start. I’d rather be processing than wandering about without a clue.”

He gave a hum of acknowledgement but otherwise was silent. It was awkward, she supposed, finding their usual rhythm again. He hadn’t picked up anyone since to her knowledge, but he must have been trying to move on. Probably had been hoping she’d just go on back home with Shaun instead of tagging along with him.

Donna sipped at her tea and drummed her fingers on the table, and his eyes dropped to the ring there. She couldn’t read his expression, which was more than a little frustrating. What did he think about it? More importantly, what did she want him to think about it?

That was her other problem, one that she didn’t want to think about too closely. She’d agreed to marry Shaun, completely unaware that she had once upon a time already promised the rest of her life to a different man entirely.

And the Doctor had said he’d known. Did that mean he’d known or guessed at her change of heart over their “just mates” arrangement as well? Was it even right for her to be thinking about that while she was still engaged to someone else?

The one thing he didn’t seem to be displaying was surprise, and Donna had a thought.

“Wait a minute. You know who Shaun is.”

He gave a slight start in his chair. “Oh. Wilfred told me.”

Donna narrowed her eyes. “When did you see my Gramps?”

“About...half an hour ago?”

“What, do you two just meet up and have chats now?”

“No. No, he found me. Still not sure how. I wasn’t here for that, I wasn’t trying to — anyway,” he said, his way of trying to dismiss what he didn’t want to talk about.

“So why did you come back to Earth, then?”

“The Ood warned me. They were having bad dreams, and so have everyone on Earth. You wouldn’t happen to remember, would you?”

Donna shook her head. The only odd dreams she’d been having were what she could now recognize as small snippets of their old adventures together, and since she’d felt guilty for dreaming about being with someone who wasn’t Shaun she’d been trying not to think about them much.

“Well, suppose it wasn’t a guarantee. Wilfred can remember his for some reason, so I thought maybe — but never mind. The dreams were a premonition, a warning for me to know something was about to happen here and I needed to come back. Only I was too late, and now the Master’s back again,” he finished, running his hands through his hair in clear distress.

“Okay, I was following that up until you said ‘Master’,” Donna said.

The Doctor blinked. “Oh, right. The Master’s another Time Lord. Not a good one,” he added before she could do much more than let her mouth fall open in shock. “Martha, Jack, and I found him at the end of the universe, and eventually he was killed. Or I thought, but he had a backup plan. He always does.”

“So from what I’m getting, he’s sort of like your Time Lord nemesis?”

He pulled a face. “It’s complicated. We were friends, a long time ago. Best friends. But things changed, we grew apart, had different ideas.”

“You found a better best friend,” she remarked.

That actually got a smirk out of him. “True. Anyway, him being back isn’t any good for the Earth. He sees humanity, or anyone, really, as beneath him.”

“So typical destroy-the-planet Christmas fare, then.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure what his plan is. His resurrection, something about it didn’t go to plan. I think Lucy must have been behind it.”

“And Lucy is…?”

“His wife. Well, widow until he was resurrected.”

“Is she a Time Lady?”

“No.”

“Wait, so if humans are ‘beneath’ him, what’d he go and marry one for?”

“It was part of the last plan.”

“Why am I picturing a bloody Bond villain?” Asked Donna. “I mean, seriously, who goes around calling themselves the Master? Actually, why do you call him that?”

“Well, it’s his name. He picked it same as I did. And really, Donna, it’s the height of offense in Time Lord society not to use a chosen name — nicknames aside,” he added. “Though nobody on Gallifrey really used nicknames.”

“Well, glad I haven’t inadvertently offended, then.”

“Now that you mention it, the Martian thing was a bit rude.”

“And should we really be worried about being rude to the alien super villain intent on destroying the planet?”

“Well—”

“I’m gonna say no,” Donna concluded.

He shook his head, but a smile was spreading across his face. “I don’t think saying I missed you covers it, but I did.”

She couldn’t quite meet his warm gaze and lowered her eyes to her coffee. “Yeah, what’s it been, three centuries?”

“Three years.”

That had her looking back up. “What, really? But you look so much older! I mean, really, you look like death warmed over!”

“Thank you,” he said, lips quirked in a wry smile. “And to think if I’d known nearly dying was all it would take to fix things, maybe I wouldn’t look like death.”

“Oi, don’t even joke about that.” Donna pointed a finger at him in stern warning, but on the inside she felt a swell of fear. For the Doctor to have been so lost in his head not to even notice her car, he must have been in a truly bad state. She could only think of the Torchwood laboratory under the Thames, his unchanging expression as the water had poured in all around them until Donna had shouted loud enough to break through to him.

The Doctor wasn’t laughing either. “Donna, I think you should go home.”

“What?”

“Go and spend Christmas with your family and your fiancé.”

“Right, because that’ll be easy while I’m worrying whether the world is gonna end, won’t it?” She glared at him. “Will you stop trying to send me off for my own good? Cos we all know how that usually ends.”

“This isn’t a usual day, Donna. The Master is dangerous, more so than most anything we’ve ever been up against,” the Doctor said with just as stern a look. “It’s better for him to think I’m on my own.”

Donna was about to argue further, but a thought occurred to her. “Was he the one who tortured Martha’s family?”

He didn’t ask how she knew about that. “Yes.”

Donna didn’t say anything for a long moment. If she did go along, would she be making her family a target? But if she didn’t, what might happen to him?

“Did he torture you?”

“Donna—”

“Yes or no question, Doctor.”

He wasn’t looking at her when he answered. “Yes.”

Donna nodded to herself. “Then I think I’ll be staying.”

“Donna, please.” The Doctor reaches across the table for her hands. “I’ve only just got you back. If something happened to you because of me again, I don’t know what I’d end up doing.” He looked terrified just at the possibility.

“And you think I want something happening to you when I just got you back?”

“That’s not something you can change,” he told her.

“What do you mean?”

The ring of her mobile cut through their conversation, and the Doctor let her hands go and pulled back. Donna sighed when she saw it was her mum, but knew ignoring this call would likely only send her family into a panic.

In fact, she didn’t even get a word in, greeting-wise.

“Donna? Where are you? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, mum. Well, nothing bad. Actually, it’s all fine now.” She shuffled in her seat, half-turning to the side as she added, “Didn’t Shaun tell you I was fine?”

“He doesn’t know what’s happening! Said you ran off with him.”

“You can say the Doctor,” said Donna with a roll of her eyes that hopefully could be heard down the line.”

“But how can you know who he is? He said it’d kill you!”

“Yeah, well he was a little wrong on that. We sorted it out.”

“Donna, tell me you’re not going off to space and all that again,” her mother begged. “Come home. We’re worried about you.”

“Mum, I’m fine, I swear.”

“It’s Christmas. You’ve got the wedding coming up!”

“Look, I’ll stop home soon as I can. This is important. I’m sorry. Love you.” She hung up before her mother could reply. “Suppose it would’ve been too much to expect she’d be happy I’m not an amnesiac — oi!”

She’d turned back to face him only to find she was talking to thin air. The Doctor had gone.

He hadn’t even touched his tea.

“Oh, you idiot.” She wasn’t entirely sure if she meant him or herself. Probably both.

Donna stood and left the cafe.

He wasn’t anywhere to be seen when she looked either way down the street. Oh, he was in for it when she caught up with him.

Trouble was, she had no clue where this other Time Lord was or what he was up to, and thus no real way of knowing where the Doctor might have gone.

It wasn’t the end of the world. She’d found him before and she could again.

And she wasn’t the only one. Her grandad had apparently managed it just earlier today. If anyone might know something that could help her find the Doctor, he would.

It looked as if she was going home after all.