#and it bothers me how much stimulation my brain needs constantly to the point where i cannot step away from socials cause my brain 'itches'

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

ive been genuinely distressed about how bad my adhd has been this past month

[pikechris]

people are sometimes surprised when I say that I actually like my job in a service station deli. well first of all this is ireland, 98% of customer interactions are polite and pleasant and the worst thing that can happen to me personally is when we get a bus full of teenagers who want chicken fillet rolls. or even worse, two in one day. happened this tuesday. but also i've found that it's actually perfect for my autism/adhd brain because:

I do the same things every day. there are tasks that have to be done every day and tasks that have to be done every week on a specific day. perfect. it's the thing others complain about the most, but me? just how I prefer it

constantly moving and doing something is what keeps me stimulated and staves off boredom aka the worst feeling ever. it gets pretty busy sometimes, which, ideal! I haven't had to touch a stim toy for MONTHS because I put all that excess energy to violently scrubbing dishes

I'm honestly the perfect employee because when I happen to have nothing to do I look for things to clean and tidy and shit and if that doesn't help I ask the manager for extra tasks to keep those hands occupied lol

re: previous point. I'm Fast so I always do everything that needs to be done, too. mostly because my brain takes the rules seriously and when the paperwork says I have to do something. well then I'll bloody well do it won't I. it says it right there. they like me because they know I'm reliable unlike the students who do weekends and even exceed expectations sometimes hah

clear instructions, love em. here I always know what to do and how to do it

the customer interactions follow a similar pattern and are almost always the same so I know what to say and ask and it's not stressful

sometimes people ask me where to find things and such and I Iove a) knowing things and being somebody who knows them and b) telling people about something I know, so it doesn't bother me

there's a whole bunch of safety compliance paperwork tasks like taking temperatures of food every hour that everyone finds annoying. but I love numbers and measuring things and statistics!! it's like ooh I wonder what's the temperature of this soup?? and then I stick a probe in there and find out and write it down! neat. tracking how quickly things cool down in the hot counter is entertaining

there's always 50 things to do at once. I will start 10 at a time. it works out fine. I can check the task list to see if I did it and tick it off. adhd kept in check ✓

others repeat the customers' orders to them to make sure they're getting it right so when I do it because echolalia & needing it to process the information, it goes unnoticed!!

I hate silence so the constant noise of the ovens and the radio and such are a good background noise. plus no one minds when I sing along to the radio as a stim because everyone does it, which is also why I feel safe enough to do so in the first place

no seriously doing stuff gives me energy, so I'm not tired after an 8.5 hour shift (this is even an observation others have made) and still can do the shopping, cook dinner, cook lunch for next day and be busy until midnight. something I couldn't do when studying, which was an energy drainer. huh

(I haven't had this much energy and motivation to do things since I was a CHILD. I'm not joking. I also haven't had a shutdown or anxiety attack or even a bad day in ages since I moved and started working. lying in bed depressed and feeling like I can't breathe? don't know her. also I can actually fall asleep immediately. my brain just shuts down. a feeling I haven't known for years. what is this magic)

I get to put things in the oven and make pizzas and bread and scones from scratch and generally do things I like and am good at and get paid for it! fuck yeah baking!!

I get to clean and put things in order and organise stock and the cold room and freezers and implement Systems and make things Full and GET PAID FOR IT

regular shifts 10-18, perfect, I don't have to get up too early either. allows for going to sleep at midnight and still getting the sweet eight hours

everybody is kind of doing their own thing most of the time and we're all busy so I'm not required to talk to my coworkers if I don't want to. but I can if I do. we all get along well. also good

sometimes I have an issue remembering how many fillings I put in that person's wrap if I wasn't paying that much attention but it's fine, if I charge them 40c less no one will know. there is no failing and no points deducted for a wrong answer. it's chill, no anxiety induced

I'm mostly on my own from 11:30ish until the end, the deli is my kingdom, I make the decisions, no one is in the way, I like it. I like it less when it's busy but I'm capable of handling it either way so eh *shrug*

i have a very good memory (when I do pay attention) so when there are regulars who order the same one or two things I remember them fast and now it's like. white wrap, peppers and plain chicken? and they're like. yeah!! :) I get to make someone happy with something so simple :)

sometimes people eat truly bizarre sandwiches and stuff and I get to internally laugh and/or wonder what the fuck is that. sometimes we actually do laugh about it after. it's fun

I'm also apparently the best new person they've ever had in this shop because I learn extremely fast so that's nice to hear lmao

i easily follow safety regulations such as wearing gloves at all times because dirty dishes and wet bits of food in the sink and raw meat and greasy utensils and sticky bread dough and the inside of the oven mitts are yucky to touch so that's another win-win for them and me

if not the company owner then at least the shop and deli managers are amazing. they will tell you to take any wastage you want without paying for it (because that is a stupid rule that exists that everyone thinks is nonsense and ignores. what's the difference if an out of date bag of crisps goes in the bin or is eaten?) just don't tell the boss, and will go out for drinks with you, and act like normal human beings who are a delight to work with

as a christmas bonus we all got a €50 one4all gift card which everyone thought was sort of shite and useless but are you kidding me? that means a free coffee machine. I got a free coffee machine with it. and a big discount on noise-cancelling wireless earbuds that are actually good and have a long battery life. amazing I'm telling you

yes we get the minimum wage but as someone who never worked or had much money I can live so well off of it? i can comfortably pay for rent and electricity and two grocery shoppings a week that aren't cheap, put a bunch aside, buy some treats online when I feel like it, go places every other week, and still have enough left. I flew to london in december just because. spent £130 on a concert ticket to the o2. I visit places that are a bit further away and stay a night or two once a month. I feel like I eat like a king when I have stuff like homemade bread with avocado spread, homemade cake, fresh strawberries and stuff for breakfast all the time. and that's just for cleaning and making sandwiches?? it sometimes feels unreal to me that I do it for money at all. it's like. housework. things I do anyway all the time at home. I have no reason to complain lol

anyway this is just how I personally feel :') but yeah I like working? who'd have thought. not me. I also feel like I'm the only one there who does. or anywhere really. because I'm so used to retail and service jobs being connected with annoyance and hate and doing them out of necessity etc etc... so I wanted to share that little bit of positive experience I guess. and needed to rant about it somewhere.

is it weird that working 42 hours a week in a shop improved my mental health? probably. but I also get it and can't believe I didn't figure it out earlier because. it's the moving lads. I'm in a constant state of busy. once I stop doing things and start lying in bed all day it goes downhill and the energy and motivation don't come back. but now? that's impossible. even on weekends. I can't put off the ironing because I need the uniform. I have to cook because I can't live on cheese toasties and the veg in the fridge is gonna go off if I don't use it. I have to travel because there's nothing to do in town except lying in bed all day. and once I make a Plan, not even the rain or having to get up at 6:30 to catch the morning bus stops me from following it. and I don't mean that in a stressful grind culture way, I mean it in a helpful actually-it's-pretty-slow-and-quiet way! I found a way of hacking the executive dysfunction completely by accident here and. it's a job

[cynical-space]

The Best Exercise for Your Body And Brain

Improve your health and fitness by teaching your body to communicate efficiently click here with your brain. Benefits include weight loss, improved strength; increased energy, flexibility and balance.

Have you ever heard “train with the brain in mind?” Growing up, I would get the latest issue of Muscle and Fitness and plug away at biceps, triceps and chest routines. What resulted was frustration due to lack of performance enhancement and usually an overuse injury or two.

After becoming a Physical Therapist and gaining the knowledge of how the body operates, it became apparent why I had so much trouble meeting my fitness goals growing up and why I had injuries.

I was confusing my brain.

The brain is our guardian; like a protective mother with lots of kids. The kids in this case are all the bones, joints, muscles, etc.

The mother wants her kids to be successful. It really bothers her to see her kids suffer or doing anything that makes them struggle. In other words, the brain is interested in the body’s success.

Now most mothers (brains) have spies to help them. These are neighbors, kids in the neighborhood, teachers at school, etc., that let mothers know if there are problems with the kids. You see, the brain does not like the body or its parts (the kids) to get into any difficulty.

These spies are called proprioceptors. They send information to the brain to let it know such things as how fast a limb is moving, how much tension a muscle is under, if a joint is under too much strain and where a body part is located in space. The brain reacts by making adjustments so the body is successful.

You see, by training the body in the correct way, the right information gets to the brain. When you train the body the wrong way, the spies send bad information to the brain; this results in poor performance and fitness outcomes.

The brain will take in whatever information you feed it, good or bad. It loves you like only a good mother could. It will react based on the information it gets. The brain wants you to be efficient and have glorious results…but can only respond to the information it receives.

The last tidbit of information about the brain and its importance to training is this; the brain recognizes muscle synergies (groups of muscles working together).

This brings me to my point about confusing the brain. If you send it information about muscles working in isolation (biceps curls, triceps press downs, sitting knee extensions), then the brain responds with mixed signals. It wants to make the body efficient by having the muscles work in groups. Based on the feedback it is getting though, it tries to make the body as successful as possible by helping the muscles work individually. This results in poor movement patterns and injury.

Based on this information, I realized my brain needed some help. I needed to stop feeding my brain artificial movement information. I needed to train my muscles and joints as a group and do programs that allowed my body to move as it was designed to move.

Now I realize I just gave you a lot of neuroanatomy and physiology in a few short paragraphs. However, with that knowledge in tow, let me tell you the type of routine that will stimulate your brain! There are four things you must do:

First, get on your feet. We constantly ask our bodies to perform while squatting, walking and climbing stairs. Our muscles need to be ready to respond when executing these types of activities. If you train the body (and brain) while on your feet, it will respond by making the body more efficient during those occasions.

[rreyie]

𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙞- 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: an idea pops into colts head after fucking your brains out the night before, craving you again.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut! vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, fem! reader, semi public sex, cursing, overstimulation

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/nsfw

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: colt grice, reader insert

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: you asked, i provide. after getting so much great feedback from you all about part one (view here), i decided, hey, let’s make a part two! also, thank you so much for 95 followers, it means so so so much to me 😩 also, hey, look! i’m using proper capitalization when i write now!!

DISCLAIMER: cant believe that i even have to clarify this, but IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM DO I HAVE AN OPINION ON GABI. people will probably come for my throat if i even say that i like or dislike her, so i’m neutral to her.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the morning was... awkward, to say the least. Eventually, you all began to laugh it off. Porco would crack the occasional joke about it (when Falco and Gabi weren’t near).

After breakfast, you ran back up to your room to change, grabbing that white bikini that you washed and folded last night. You smirked at your memories from yesterday, how Colt admired you looking so very attractive. His hazel eyes would constantly be on you, unwavering.

After slipping it on and tying the straps, you made a quick stop in the bathroom, Colt at the sink furiously brushing his teeth. You can see his eyes widen in the mirror, looking at your figure.

He quickly spits out the toothpaste and wipes his mouth. “Wow, you’re lookin... awfully lovely today”, he says, kissing your lips. You take in the minty breath breathing down your chin.

“Colt, not now...” you say, pulling your lips from his. “The door is open, We can’t do this now, plus we have plans for the day.”

Colt pouts, frowning at your words. “Fine. But I’m expecting affection tonight”, he says, walking out of the bathroom. You smile, and continue to get ready to get back on the beach.

It looked like Pieck, Porco, Reiner, Colt, Gabi and Falco had gotten out early, since they were all sprawled out on different parts of the beach. Pieck was dipping her dainty feet in the water, while Gabi and Falco aggressively splashed each other with the water from the lake.

Pieck turned around to see you walk down to the beach, greeting you with a warm smile. “Hello, y/n!” She says, stepping out of the water that washed upon her feet. “Just getting used to this water. I don’t know the last time I’ve gone swimming, but I figured that I should try.”

You stand next to her, and dip your foot into the water. A shiver ran down your back, feeling that the water was slightly colder than yesterday. “I cant blame you. I’m more of a sunbathing person myself.” You look around, and see the men in their same old spot, floating in the water in their tubes. Pieck lays down on a nearby towel, and puts a pair of sunglasses on her face, blocking the burning sunlight that washed upon you all.

“Come, sit”, she says. “The sunlight feels wonderful.”

You sit down beside her, also putting on your own pair of shades to save your eyes from the sunlight. You wonder how Pieck never manages to tan and always keeps her pale, nearly lifeless complexion.

Back over by the guys, Reiner and Porco were still teasing Colt about the noise from last night. Colt pretended not to care, but deep down he was semi embarrassed about the situation.

“Well, if you want to really switch things up, you should try a new position or something, maybe add a vibrator”, Porco says. “I think girls like that.”

Reiner let’s out a laugh. “Porco, how would you know? You’ve never gotten an ounce of pussy in your life.”

Porco snaps, splashing Reiner with a wave of water. “At least I get into meaningful relationships and don’t just settle for one night stands, Reiner.” Colt sighs, as the two continue their bickering. He looks down by the shore, seeing you and Pieck laying on the beach. How could he possibly be this lucky to have a girl like you as his girlfriend?

Wait. Hang on. Colt had an idea pop into his head. If he wanted to get laid again, he probably shouldn’t do it inside the house, hence the thin walls. He had seen some porn of people fucking on a beach, and always wanted to try it, and added it to his bucket list. What better time to do it then now?

Colt began to think of you slipping off that bikini like you had done last night, untying the straps, revealing your dazzling body. He could feel himself getting hard, and covered his crotch. If he was going to follow through with this plan, he was going to have to do it at night, after everyone had gone to bed to take away the risk of getting caught or being heard (again).

As soon as night came, you cleaned up the dishes after dinner and went upstairs to the bathroom. On the sink was a note, in colts messy handwriting.

𝒴/𝒩,

𝒫𝓁���𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃.

𝒳𝑜𝓍𝑜, 𝒞𝑜𝓁𝓉

Shit, you think to yourself. Sundown was forever ago. I should get down to the beach before Colt thinks I ditched him or something.

You don’t even bother to change into normal clothes, and go back down there in the white bikini Colt adored seeing you in, you couldn’t go wrong in wearing that.

You make your way down to the beach, the starlit sky twinkling in the distance, the moon hovering over the lake reflecting white waves. Colt is down on the beach, a large towel laid out, on his phone.

You walk towards him feeling the sand crunch beneath your feet, and his eyes immediately look up to you, wide with excitement.

“Y/N!” He says. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming or you didn’t see the note.”

“I wouldn’t forget about you Colt”, you say, sitting beside him. “Never ever.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you kiss his lips, tasting like just a bit of alcohol.

You pull away, Colts smile slowly fading away at the fact that you stopped kissing him. “Colt, baby, have you been drinking?”

“Fine, maybe a little”, he said. “But I paced myself this time to the point where I won’t get hammered, I did it for you.”

You smiled. “I’m proud of you!” That smile didn’t last long, feeling the right corner of your mouth rise forming a smirk. “And good boys get rewarded.”

You see Colts cheeks get red, flushing as you move your head down to his crotch, still covered in fabric. He lets out a breathy moan when you gently tug at his elastic waistband with your mouth. You stop for a minute, trying to remember why you were down here in the first place.

“Hey, wait, why did you ask me to come down here in the first place?”

Colt grins, and pulls out a bottle of lube from his pocket. “Well, I wanted to switch things up. I thought the beach would be a nice place to... you know. But keep doing what you’re doing please, baby.”

You continue your quest to tug down Colts swim trunks, but getting impatient and moving your hand up to the waistband and tugging it down with a singular motion. His cock sprang out, slapping against his stomach, already half hard. Your hand gripped his length gently, thumb rubbing the tip as he slowly began to grow increasingly hard under your touch. He let out a gasp at your movements. Your hand traveled down father, slowly jacking him off as he looked down upon you, hazel eyes filled with desire as you pumped him.

“Just like that, babe...” Colt said, voice cracking. He whimpered, voice high because of the stimulation you were providing him. “Oh... oh god... please, you’re doing so good baby.”

Your heat throbbed at his praises. This only encouraged you to go quicker, his eyes starting to roll into the back of his head. You cupped his balls, eliciting another whimper or moan, possibly a combination of the two.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum-“ Colt is cut off by his sudden orgasm, covering your hand in his hot seed.

“Normally, i would stop and make you beg, but you’ve been a good boy tonight. I wanna make you feel good.” Colt is panting underneath you, still sensitive from his last orgasm. His cock grows hard again. He gives you a weak smile as he lays down on the towel.

“What’s the matter?” You ask. “You’re not tired already are you? You’re still hard.”

“B-baby...” Colt whispers. “C-can you ride me? Pretty please?” Your heat grows hotter than before at the idea. You fiddle with the straps of your bikini, and undo the knot in the back, making the top portion fall off easily. You slip off the bottom half, and sit on Colts lap.

Just to tease him, you kiss him on his lips, grinding your hips against his. Seeing him so vulnerable, so sensitive made you incredibly turned on. His eyes were squinted, his cheeks (and cock) red. His dick was throbbing even though he just came, and beads of sweat rolled off of his body. You thoroughly enjoyed the sight.

You grabbed hold of his cock once again, and guided it to your entrance, teasing the tip around your hole. Once you had enough of all this teasing, you skipped it in, not needing that bottle of lube since your walls were coated in your arousal already.

“Fuck- so... tight...” Colt mumbles.

You grind your hips against his cock, feeling it move in and out inside you. Colt contributes to the movement, thrusting his hips up to penetrate you deeper than you thought possible. Colt wasn’t incredibly endowed, maybe six inches, but you were shocked at how good he could use it.

His dick began to rub onto that one spongy spot inside of you, the one that drove you crazy. “Colt! Aah! R-Right there!”

Colt appreciated the praise, and was thankful that you two were away from the house for tonight. His pace picked up, continuously hitting your sweet spot with all his might.

Before you knew it, you had creamed around his cock, feeling the wave of your orgasm crash down upon you. Colt, not done yet, was still thrusting into you.

With a loud groan, Colt thrusted into you sloppily one final time, and released himself into you. Now was a time that you were grateful to be on the pill, feeling his warm seed coat your walls was one of the best sensations you could possibly experience.

Out of breath, you lay on colts bare chest, completely fucked out. Cum was still dripping down from your cunt to your inner thigh, which you most definitely did not hate. Colt kissed your neck, his kisses messily leaving a bit of saliva on your neck.

“You’re- you’re amazing, y/n.” He kisses you again, this time right on your lips. You were too tired to even respond. You just shut your eyes, feeling Colts heartbeat against your ear.

Eventually, Colt carried you into the house as if you were a sleeping baby, while being careful not to wake anyone else up. He placed your body on the bed, and laid beside you, careful to tuck you into the covers while doing the same to himself. Wrapping himself around you, he snuggled into you, even more grateful tonight than ever that he was your boyfriend.

[akaluan]

The thought of kisuke building wings for himself is stuck in my brain for reasons beyond me or my control. Please take it from me

Kisuke frowns at the mess of mechanical and magical parts scattered across his workbench, trying to make the bits and bobs resolve into something logical; when he’d started this project, he hadn’t expected it to be so… so convoluted, but maybe he should have.

There’s a reason humans rely purely on magic in order to fly, instead of crafting themselves actual wings, after all.

But he’s set himself upon this path and he’s not going to give up just because it’s hard. He’s pretty sure that he can figure it out given enough time — hopefully without resorting to using reiatsu in the process — and then he’ll have actual wings to play with!

And if he can do this then… then…

He doesn’t know.

Maybe he’ll sell bespoke wings to people who want them? The extra funds would be nice, but the idea of having to deal with commissions is a strange thought. Truthfully, the idea that anyone would want anything that he makes is an even stranger thought, but he’s spent more than enough time on the internet to know that there are people out there who will pay absurd amounts for actual working wings. He just has to offer proof of concept in the right places, to the right people, and things will fall into place.

Kisuke sighs and reaches up to tug at a lock of hair, trying to refocus on the present instead of a potential-future. Nothing matters until he can finish up this set for himself, of course, which means he has to actually finish it. Not stare blankly at the pile of parts and hope vaguely that it takes form by itself.

He hums. Leans in.

Gets to work.

\\\

He doesn’t work on just his wing project, of course, so a day turns into a week turns into a month turns into months with no end in sight, but he’s making progress. Slow progress, but progress none-the-less.

It’s actually a pretty rewarding project, if he’s being honest. It’s fun, fun in a way that things haven’t been in decades. Fun in a way that he never thought anything could ever be again.

It’s challenging and intriguing and logical, but it also requires that he dive into research fields that he’s never touched before in his life. There are so many Living World sciences to learn that he’s never quite known where to start, but this project… this project is giving him the opportunity — and the reasons — that he’s never had before.

He researches how birds fly, researches how air moves, researches metallurgy and magical manifestation and robotics and so many other bits and bobs that sometimes it feels like he’s drowning in information. Sometimes he has to set the project aside in order to build something else, just because a thought won’t leave him alone once his brain has put the pieces together.

He never really shows anyone those side-projects — doesn’t think anyone will be interested in them, to be honest — but they’re fun and they do have a use.

The more Kisuke puts together, the more he learns and the better he gets. His first efforts are… crude, to put it mildly, more mess than use, but even his failures are fascinating; Seireitei doesn’t have magic per-se, not to the same extent that the Living World does, so he’s never put any effort into researching it before now. Seeing all the ways it can fail is like discovering kido-crafting all over again, and sometimes he can’t help but shove magic types together just to see what happens.

(Explosions, usually.)

(But sometimes something else, something new, something fascinating occurs instead.)

(He lives for those moments of discovery.)

By now, he’s, ah… renowned in certain circles. He has five mages willing to supply him with both standard elemental crystals — a dime a dozen online, but he’s starting to trust these mages and their abilities — and with rarer, more expensive set-spells. They’re even interested in the results of his experiments, sometimes to the point of offering him extra crystals or new set-spells to experiment with.

(Apparently, not many people are willing to risk explosive experiments.)

(That’s fine.)

(More fun for him!)

It’s not his original project, but Kisuke doesn’t believe any research to be wasted research, so it’s fine.

He’ll find his answer eventually.

\\\

Somewhere along the way, he ends up… accidentally stumbling across his answer while shoving different combinations of set-spells together to see what happens.

It’s a complex, delicate piece of work when spun together into a single spell; its carefully balanced elements make its structure as beautiful as lace and stronger than steel when crafted just right, and it takes weeks for his mages to figure out how to cast it correctly. There’s plenty of explosions in the process, based on the mishmash of notes he finds in the shared research document, and it makes him abruptly cognizant of exactly how lucky he is.

(He would never have been able to reach this moment without his favorite mages supporting him and working together.)

(As talented as Kisuke is, he’s no mage and never can be.)

(Magic is for the living and for the spirits of those who were mages when alive.)

(Kisuke is neither.)

Of course, the just right bit is important, because the slightest disturbance during the initial casting can turn the set-spell into an explosion waiting to happen, as Kisuke learns while experimenting with the first one he’s sent.

It’s fine, though, it’s fine. The mages are worried-apologetic-dismayed when Kisuke reports it, but Kisuke doesn’t care.

They’re working through email and shared notes and the occasional live chat, not side-by-side. Kisuke doesn’t expect perfection in these cases — wouldn’t expect it even if they were working side-by-side, considering how experimental this whole thing is! — so a little unexpected explosion every so often is fine.

(Not that any of the mages seems to agree, considering how much the others chide him about being careful with brand new spells.)

(The concern is… strange, but also… nice?)

(Weird.)

Still, the next several set-spells Kisuke experiments with work out better, and he quickly learns how to tell which ones are viable and which ones aren’t. There’s a sort of… hum… that set-spells have, he’s realized, not so much audible as something felt while holding the crystal, and if he focuses closely enough he can sense which ones are unstable and which aren’t. It’s a useful skill, though apparently a rare one? At least according to his favorite mages, it is— something about it meaning he’s extra sensitive to magical energies, even though he isn’t a mage himself.

(Apparently, if he’d been a mage, he’d have instinctively blocked the sense out when he was young in order to not be constantly overwhelmed by it.)

(He wonders how many mages can’t do that, and are therefore constantly on the edge of over-stimulation because of it.)

(He wonders if he can find a way to help.)

(Hmm… a project for later.)

Regardless, now that Kisuke’s pretty sure he has the set-spell necessary to support flight, things go faster. He builds and tinkers and tears apart and rebuilds, slinging the exo-skeleton on and off with growing ease, the magical connection becoming smoother and cleaner with every iteration. Kisuke doesn’t want there to be a menu or buttons or anything of the sort to control the wings, not when magical prosthetics are already capable of interfacing with the brain and translating intent into action.

He just… needs to adapt it to work with limbs the body’s never had.

Somehow.

Somehow.

Except the brain is an incredible thing on its own, and it ends up being less about teaching the interface to work with extra limbs as teaching his brain to consider the wings part of his body. Which is a bunch of trial and error — lots and lots of error — but eventually the stuttering, twitching mess slung across his back starts to smooth out, starts to flex and shift and spread, and the interface—

The interface does what it was built to do.

Kisuke can feel it as his new wings spread. Can feel it when he accidentally bumps a wing against his workbench. Can feel it when he runs a hand over bare metal struts and magical feathers. Can feel so, so much—

It’s a bit too much, if he’s being honest, especially when he takes the wings off and suddenly loses all that extra input. It doesn’t hurt, at least, but it’s weird and leaves him feeling unbalanced for a while afterward.

(A side-effect he’d never considered, but one his mages are quick to point out is expected if he’s going to use that method of connecting the wings to his mind.)

(Ah well, he’ll adapt.)

(It’s what he does, after all.)

From there, it’s just a matter of refining the wings, both in looks and in function, and then… and then—

And then he can finally fly.

\\\

His first flight is less ‘flight’ and more ‘uncontrolled tumble’, but Kisuke isn’t bothered by that.

(He maybe trying to run (fly) before he can walk.)

(Just maybe.)

He gets up, brushes himself off, and tries again.

And again.

And again.

Until he finally figures out how to coordinate his wings to gain lift, and then it’s almost like everything just clicks into place; not that it becomes easy as such, because it doesn’t, but things start to make sense at last.

(His dreams become weird, tangled messes of extra limbs and feathers and darting flight.)

(Even his normal dreams start to be invaded by wings.)

(It’s weird, but apparently normal?)

(How do brains even work?)

It’s fun though, especially as soon as he stops face-planting as often! Soon he manages to take off, fly for a bit, and then land without falling, and if that’s not an accomplishment he has no idea what is.

(Landings are hard okay?!)

It gets even better when Kisuke has Tessai record one of his short flights and then send it to him, so that he can share it with his favorite mages. Almost instantly he has five very, very interested mages who want their own wings to play with and, well, who is he to deny them when they’ve helped him so much?

They give him suggestions on what to try, too, and while some of them work out terribly, other suggestions actually help. They’re basically writing the whole manual from scratch here, which seems to excite everyone, and Kisuke… Kisuke sometimes can’t help but stare wistfully at his screen, wondering what it would be like to work alongside these five in person.

(He bets it would be incredible, bets it would be like nothing he’s ever done before—)

(But this is still more than he’s ever had before, so he’s going to treasure every moment he gets.)

(He’s learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth these days.)

(Besides, now he has wings!)

(And that’s enough for him.)

[shesawriter39049]

|UNWRAP ME| M|

Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)

“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”

About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!

Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....

WC: Sneak peek (1k)

WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking

FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?

*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!

*In true Rocki fashion I decided to do holidy prompts late af & did not finish in time for the main Holiday but w/e! Note, there is some backstory here bc this was set to be the 1st of 3 holiday prompts!** ___________________________________________________

Sunday, December 14TH, 4PM 

“Alright, so you wanna hear some bullshit?!”

K, well that’s apparently Jimin, musing around a mouth full of fries! I love how no one even bothers to knock, give notice they just show the fuck up! Whenever...

Cute.

I swear it sounds like your running a damn liquor store because there’s an obnoxious amount of bells and mistletoe hanging above the door almost acting as a doorbell at this point. Just casually Fa-la-laing together, echoing throughout your entire apartment every damn time the door opens! Honestly, your slowly regretting giving Jin and Tae free reign with decorations because that shits annoying as all hell!

Gaze still focused on your original task, not even looking in his direction “Don’t trip over the-“ There's a loud thud, followed by an obscene groan, accompanied by an even louder “Fuckkk!” Which solidified he did in fact trip over the ....

“....Box with Jin’s other Christmas tree in it ...” The words kinda died off your tongue at this point because well, clearly the warning did not fare well! “If anything’s broken I’m totally snitching just so we’re clear” Sassing over a half empty glass of spiked eggnog.

Now that you’ve finally looked at him, you find yourself hiding a smirk behind your cocktail as well! The boy is fine, you’d give him that! Looking like a model off duty, in his low cut white v, neck hidden beneath a distressed leather jacket! Topping off the look with a pair of chunky combats and disrespectfully tight dark wash denim jeans! I swear they damn near looked painted on, aviators resting on the bridge of his nose! Gucci backpack slung over his shoulder, Starbucks in one hand, and some brown bag full of grease in the other! Jimin recently went back red, looking dangerously close to the same 18 year old you met, at UCLA almost years ago now!  Just a boujier version, it’s like this Jimin’s from Calabasas instead of the Bay! Though your down for both options if we’re being real!

Not that Jimin’s not equally as good of company as well, you were honestly just expecting Tae! The two of you were starting to put together the gift bags for next week's holiday party! Hints the hot ass mess all over the floor of your living room, it’s a disgusting pile of shopping bags and boxes! Everything from Amazon to Saks Fifth, at this point you aren’t even sure where the fuck your floor starts or ends! One thing you do know for damn sure is Hobi’s going to have an aneurysm If he sees it! Sooo, hopefully Tae shows up sooner than later...

It’s become a tradition, or at least since the companies been profitable enough to do so! First off, you’re love language has always been a combination of “Gifts” and “Acts of service, so shit like this is essentially second nature!

However, quality time has slowly slipped its way into the mix over the past couple of years as well! Especially considering it’s almost a luxury for the seven of you at this point but you try not to complain! I mean Namjoon and yourself just did an interview last week for Forbes 30 under 30 for fucks sake! But anyway, like I was originally saying this little party is your way of trying to give your staff a combination of all 3 said love languages!

Above everything else you all work your asses off well, aware this is far from a 9-5, yet they give you their best constantly! Yeah, it was built on the backs of you and your boys but it wouldn’t be were it is now without everyone else! So, with that being said the schedule is as follows! 

1.Bust ass and hit all of your year end deadlines by December 22nd. 

2.The holiday party is on the 23rd...

3. Thennnnnn....after that the companies closed until the 2nd of January! 

Well kinda, if we’re being real the 7 of you never fully stop working, but you damn sure plan to try! I guess it’s the beauty and the curse of having damn near everything accessible on your phone! I swear this morning Joon was washing your back whilst you read him the latest profit/loss update from Jin soooo......that’s that!

Everyone else however....off duty with pay!

Which brings us back to the original task at hand before Jimin showed up,prepping the gift bags that get handed out at said holiday party! The invite list is pretty exclusive honestly,outside of your staff, and there plus one, the other guests are typically the immediate crew/ talent used throughout the year on various productions! Oh, there’s also special little packages mailed out to a couple of the company's sponsors as well! So all together were looking at at least 100 gift bags give or take! Of course at this stage you guys go all out but that’s not what it’s about! It’s legitimately the thought that counts!

Little gestures like this just remind people that you care,that they’re on your mind even if they aren’t currently doing you a favor! That’s what sets Onyx apart, all the little things you do without even thinking about it! Coffee, donuts, catering on set for long shoots,or even the little kits Jimin brings with him to set for the models! Fully stocked with soothing cream, heating pads, the full nine! It’s actually sad how much of a rarity it is in your line of work! 

Obviously, it goes without saying that those types of gestures aren’t feasible for everyone....However there’s companies worth more than you that do amples less!

But anyway back to Jimin and Tae! As I mentioned when the door originally opened you were expecting a mop of silver locks as opposed to red! Baby boy ran out to pick up the custom gift bags from this Indie vendor in WeHo. Hint’s why you were expecting Tae instead, now, why Jimins here I have no damn idea! Clearly we’re about to find out and apparently it’s “Some Bullshit!”

Honestly outside of checking his OOTD you didn't truly look at him. Far too busy propped on top of your oversized dining room table sorting through a manusery of  “Thank you” cards!

Eyes flicking to the left ever so slightly as you hear him shuffle closer “I-yeah sure what bullsh-wait are you eating my DoorDash?!”

It’s the way you constantly have to remind yourself that jail will not be like Orange is in the new black! Because I swear you damn near chucked this martini glass at that fire engine red dome of his!

Jimin just shrugs, a little nonchalant and unenthusiastic, almost as if he’s inconvenienced actually...

“Mmm, depends on perspective” He deadass just stuffed two more fires in his mouth! You're literally going to strangle him! It’s borderline painful how hard  your jaw tick, eyes narrowed in his direction!

Brows arched so damn high your gonna end up needing Botox from the permanent crease embedding within your skin. “Perspect-your literally eating-“

Holding a solitary finger in your direction “Tae just text me and said look at your phone and text him back...with like, a million pouty faces. Also, different note, who changed the decorations I placed on the mantle?! “

Jimin’s hand is now resting on his hip, legitimately angry about these damn decorations! I think his neck even did a couple rolls in the process, and I’m willing to bet,before he leaves they will be swapped out again!

A frustrated groan attempts to leave your throat  though it goes unacknowledged as your lacking any ounce or bite! Far too fond of both of your boys to truly be agitated at the moment! Actually that’s a lie, you high key wanna punch Jimin but it’s fine ....

“That, would be Jin, he said they clashed with the table decor” Pointing to all of the gold, and maroon colored decorations donning the marble coffee table “So, if your pissed go curse him out because I could give less than a damn! Now where the fuck is my phoneeee”

Hopping off the table causing your oversized UCLA Alum hoodie to hike over your ass. Said ass is covered or barely covered considering your cheeky, red, ruffle little panties are in fact assless! A cute little bow perched right on top of your tailbone, as if to direct the eye where to go….

Jimin is now choking on stolen fires and yeah there’s a smirk on your face as you grab your phone!

Mmmmhmmmm...and to think, maybe if he wasn’t being such a brat you’d let him unwrap one of his gifts a little early!

“Baby now he’s calling meeee” Anddddd he’s whining, wiggling his phone like it’s on fire! Ya know, moments like these in fact remind you that Tae and Jimin are the youngest!

“Oh for fucks sake!” Huffing in his direction snatching the phone and bag of Five Guys away in the process!

“Yes baby?” It’s actually terrifying how quickly your tone, and entire demeanor just switched! Somewhat reminiscent to how you’d see a mom scold one child then baby talk another all in the same breath! 

Jimin without a doubt noticed too, lip jutting out in a pout and no matter how many times you roll your eyes you still find yourself leaning forward kissing it right off! He moans into it and you Instantly taste the tangy seasoning from your fries, especially once he tries to swipe his tongue past the seam of your lips. The feeling of that tiny piece of metal playing in his mouth almost distracted you, but alas...the notion immediately reminds you why you were irked to begin with! Without even thinking you lean back into nipping at his bottom lip, though...this is Jimin we’re dealing with here! So whatever you thought you’d achieve is now dead, because a needy little whine just rustled in the back of his throat 

Speaking of love languages,there’s another called “Physical Touch” which has the words Jimin Park written all over it. So with that being said you really should’ve already been prepared for whatever’s about to unfold.

It’s subconscious at this point, head dropping down to the crook of your neck, nosing up a vein like a neglected puppy! Squeezing your waist hard enough to damn near engrave his thumb print in against your hip bones! Well, clearly he doesn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon!   

So what do you do instead? Place the bag of food on the bar, hold the phone in one hand and bring the other up to play in his freshly dyed locks! I swear this man is a second away from purring so maybe he’s not a puppy after all. Suddenly his ring clanned fingers trickle down your spine heading south, flexing his palm to squeeze down around the swell of your ass! Shifting you forward so your chest to chest...

So, here you are trying to cater to both of your boys at once...lord help you!

“No, of course I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just busy-yes Tae. You wanna put what in a what,Now?”

~~~~~

Hiii, as I mentioned above this was kinda last minute, I wrote out prompts on the 21st, then adult life kicked in. I actually had my own little office Christmas party to plan (Nothing on this scale obviously because well, we know the way the real world is rn) However because of that I couldn’t truly work on this until the 24th. However it’s been a long time since I wrote/wanted to write so I opted to just post it anyway! Hopefully the full thing will be up by the 28th at the latest.

I have also attached the overall masterlist for this AU!

7 DEEP 

[twelvedy7]

Twisted - One shot

warning: sensitive topics (drugs). 

I just wanted to write something a bit different. It might be a bit OCC but I thought it might be a great fit for the manga universe.   This story won’t be published anywhere else than tumblr so feel free to save the story if you like it.

Oh and also english isn’t really my native language so sorry if there are incoherences. 

Takano had no sense of self-control. From a very young age he has been a witness of the sheer harshness of his mother and the complete indifference of his father towards their family. Despite how much he tried to convince himself of his difference he inherited from most of their flaws, which filled him with anger every time he thought about it. 

No wonder that whenever he met someone bright, kind, generous and appreciated he became more aware of his whole dark gloomy personality. That was the case with Ritsu he was still viewing today as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago.

No wonder that when he met this bright, kind and generous highschool kid he had become more aware of his dark gloomy personality. He was still viewing Ritsu as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago and yet he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason why such a lovable person would waste their time with him rather than finding another likeable person that would be such a better companion than him.

If all the open rejections from the brunette could make him believe he hated him, he was at least smart enough to read between the lines and see what the other tried so hard to conceal under feigned anger and flustered reactions. 

What seemed to be like a bitter-sweet genuine love story from two ignorant teenagers who lost each other from a foolish misunderstanding was driving him straight into madness. Ritsu was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts at any time of the day, reminding him of the terrible person he was and how he will never be nowhere near enough for him. Even in the poorly credible reality where the younger one would actually build up the courage to admit his feelings, he knew that their relationship was sealed to failure. 

One day Ritsu would mature and realise how incompatible they were and how idealistic they’ve been this whole time before leaving him to find another person that could offer him the support and love he needed. Maybe one day Ritsu would find the man of his dreams, different from senpai in every way, to finally live the blissful life he aspired to. That’s what broke his heart the most: they were not made for each other. No matter how hard he tried, it will never be enough because they were simply not meant to. 

He imagined Ritsu’s soulmate to be fun, social, caring, communicative and considerate which would make him forget all the turmoil he went through for all this time. His parents might be so enchanted by their personality that the fact they weren’t An-Chan wouldn’t even bother them.

The truth is he was physically and emotionally drained. He couldn’t feel a thing if it wasn’t his love for Ritsu and sometimes he felt as if that was his last tie with sanity. There were times where he would shut down his emotions. When it became too difficult to confront their inevitable fate, he would put himself in a semi-automatic mode working up to 15 hours straight without paying attention to anything or anyone, only accomplishing what he ought to.

Over time, he came to accept that he wasn’t able to love anyone without causing them a great deal of pain and suffering. That’s why he decided to distance himself from the few people who actually cared about him in his life and managed to bring him some split meaningful moments of happiness. It was like a lightning bolt shaking him from side to side, making him surrender to the hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with Ritsu and recovering from his long-lost friendship with Yokozawa. He hurt them both and didn’t deserve to be part of their lives. 

His phone vibrated. He broke off his thoughts to center his attention on the alias displaying on the screen: “Taisho” along with a message “I’m here.”

He stood up from the floor, came up to the entrance of his apartment and opened the door. A man of average-height in his mid-thirties was waiting for him. At first glance, he gave the impression of being a regular salary-man coming back home to his family after a long day of hard work. However, he came to discover that the man likely had a long history of debt behind him involving matters such as a costly divorce and low paychecks.

Not bothering to greet him, he pulled out 6,000 yen from his pocket and handed it to the fearful looking man who replaced the notes with a small transparent plastic bag containing a white powder. 

“Same thing next week?” asked the anxious black-haired man, his light blue eyes too faithful to be a dealer squeezing behind his oval glasses. 

“Yeah. See you.” 

Without giving him a second glance, he double-locked the door and came back to his dimly lit living room that felt so lonely without Ritsu here. It would take some time, if not forever, to prevent this heavy load in his heart from manifesting every time he would find himself alone without the prospect of his first love joining him any time soon. 

It still pained him… Nao came unannounced in the office earlier in the morning and asked Ritsu out for something that too likely looked like a date. A walk in the city center, a restaurant, and a nighttime exposure. That bastard. 

The rare times he had managed to take Ritsu out for a date was by forcefully dragging him out of his apartment or bluntly lying by message playing the card of ‘emergency’. He remembered the dull ache he felt in the morning as he realised how easy it was for his “best-friend” to take him out to a full outing while he had to prepare a strategy days ahead just to drink a coffee together. 

Opening the tiny bag in his hands, he chased away his dark thoughts and kneeled in front of his coffee table, pouring half of the powder out on its surface and realigned it in two fine lines with the help of an old credit card. He usually didn’t take such high doses in one shot, but tonight he knew that he needed it. The accumulated pain and overthinking were taking a toll on him. Rolling a paper, he brought it to his right nostril and sniffed the first line, ignoring the burning pain in his cavity before passing it to his left one and repeated the action.

A few seconds later he started feeling the tiny molecules flowing through his blood system, noticing the faster pace of his heart beat and the gradual relaxation of his muscles as the drug invaded his mind.

He closed his eyes. 

As always, the thrill was exquisite. The far away sounds of ambient city noises echoed and at some point the only thing he could decipher in the absolute silence was his own breath. His body was soft and any psychological pain he felt instantly disappeared. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm fluffy blanket while stroking his hair with a gentle grasp, providing him an endless feeling of comfort and security he so desperately needed. 

At that moment, everything stopped and all his troubles went away. Nothing mattered anymore. He was back being a young child pampered by a protective mother he never had with an unconditional sense of love. Pleasurable sensations coursed through his body from head to toes until his spirit went numb and he lost any notion of space and time. 

He reached that moment of nothingness that he wished could last forever.

___ 

“Takano-san!” 

...

“Takano-san!” 

Who was it? 

The voice seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure it was real.

“Masamune!” Why would someone try to break the silent darkness that was surrounding him?

For what seemed like hours, he felt himself trapped in-between the process of gaining and losing consciousness. He didn’t want to be drawn from his deep slumber yet.

He recognized some familiar voices in the background but it was hard to put a name on them as they seemed to continuously echo. 

It took him several more minutes to realise that people were present and it shook him. He became hyper aware of his environment.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a bunch of white blouses around him scampering around the room at a feverish speed. 

His mind whirled. The world seemed to be going so fast but his brain was so slow. 

His golden eyes blinked several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. In an instant he was blinded by the artificial light of the leds on the ceiling. 

In the chaos of all the fast-paced strangers around him, he felt a delicate hand fondling with the hair on the short back of his neck and let out a soft tired moan escape his lips. 

“Takano-san can you hear me?!” 

He groggily stretched out his limbs while burying his head on the petite body frame behind him and looked up to see who was the kind stranger offering him such soft intentions. 

Above him were two wide teary green eyes displaying a worried expression. Despite his blurry vision, he could recognize the refined and familiar traits of the man he loved. It looked surreal, having the both of them like this sharing such intimacy in a restless atmosphere.

Next to him was standing Yokozawa in his usual professional attire. He could only watch them through half-closed eyes all the while trying to figure out what they were doing in his apartment in the first place.

“He’s stable now. Overdoses happen regularly when cocaine and other powerful stimulants are added to the equation. That’s what producers do nowadays to boost the effects”. Said a firm feminine voice. He could see the lady in white gesturing around to her colleagues and immediately realised what just happened. She was staring at him, probably trying to jauge how awake her patient was. 

“You were lucky Takano-san. This could have been much more serious.” 

He saw his friend sitting next to Ritsu, his usual severe expression ruptured by the deep crease in his eyebrows. 

“How did you find me?” asked the raven, his voice so weak he wasn’t sure the two others heard him. 

The brunette brought his face closer to his ear, petting his forehead as he replied in a shaky shy voice: “Yokozawa-san found you like this…” he heard a sneeze. “The front door was unlocked and your phone was ringing without you answering it. You… You stopped breathing.” 

He felt absolutely miserable. 

Trying to shift his position to have a better view of his comrades, he caught the look of utter disappointment and guilt from his older friend. He probably thought that he was long done with this dark hazardous period of his life. 

“I’m… I’m sorry... I didn’t want to…” 

His battle to stay awake was getting harder and harder. 

“It’s okay Masamune. Just rest for now.”

The nurse took a hold of his wrist and stuck the intravenous line with a patch. 

“We’re going to transfer you to the clinic as you need to take several tests. You’re safe now but your body needs to recover.” 

The hand that was playing with his hair resumed and he let his head fall back on his lap. This combined with the liquid in his body led him to a sleep without dreams.

___

When he woke up again, he found himself buried under the sheets of a hospital bed. It took him some time to become accustomed to the artificial lighting of the room. Gathering enough energy to finally keep his eyes open, he gazed at the clock at his right indicating 4:55AM.

The first thing he felt was an atrocious headache that hit him with a massive chest pain undertaking his whole body. He noticed the numerous wires connected to his skin accompanied with the steady regular bips of a machine.

He heard a light snore on his right. Shifting his head, he immediately saw the small fragile figure crawling up into a ball on the couch. A cheap blanket was covering him from toes to his neck. This sight made him feel so terribly selfish. As seconds went by he started getting back to a normal state of awareness despite a fizzy pang at the back of his skull. 

With as much strength as he could gather he sprawled a hand towards him and rested it on the others’ laps. He stroked his thigh lightly with the help of his thumb and stared at his seemingly exhausted resting face. He felt so worthless. He knew he had hurt him badly in the past already and the only thing he could think of is that this was too much.

“I’m so sorry Ritsu…”. 

After reuniting with his first love following the 10 years they had spent apart from one another he had started to believe in fate. Yet he had been too trustful, using it as a justification for every one of his impatient and inappropriate moves towards the younger one. Everything became painfully obvious. This whole thing they had was destructive and that was mainly his fault. It was time to finally respect the distance that Ritsu wanted and deserved. He could not go back to these college years pretending that nobody cared about him. 

Now Ritsu would need him. 

Still, they were nowhere near close from getting into a relationship. Too many mistakes had been made. It was crucial for both men to work on themselves first as jumping the steps one more time would only bring them unhappiness.

That day Takano swore he would stop pursuing Ritsu. He’s forever been broken and finally accepting to get help was a start towards a less twisted life.

“It’s okay Ritsu.” 

One day they would be okay. They would get the life they both secretly wanted. 

[minnochu]

Lustrous (pt 19)

Hybrid!Kook x Fem!Reader AU

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19 | Pt 20 

(A/n): This has been in my drafts for the past week, debating if I wanna post this or not, ‘cause it’s a bit of a filler but I also gotta feed my readers at some point in time y’know lol! 

The pining is almost endless I feel bad. Just a little. 

 Also the only time my irl knowledge in tkd comes in handy is now, and still shits on my lack of ability to write anything having to do with action lol.

Once again, let me know what you think!! Love you all a bunch <3

.

.

The sun hits your eyes through the blinds the very next morning. As your eyelids flutter open, you reminisce the happenings of last night. 

“Will you forgive me then?” Jungkook’s voice had asked quietly after a moment of silence, the both of you busying yourselves at that time with staring at the night sky. The way he glanced at you in search of an answer stole your breath. 

His eyes shimmered with a glint of his azure glow so quick, you wondered if he’d even shown his true colors in the first place. You admire the way they hold so much emotion, vulnerability. Outwardly, he’s closed off, a defense mechanism after hurting Hyejin and his pack, in order to protect others and himself from going crazy. His gaze that constantly shifted between an earthy cedar and a roaring sea, you loved them all.  In the beginning, they appeared cold and lonely, but fuck all if you didn’t love the way they reflected the light of the moon and the stars. Even the emotions you had yet to witness, it was bound to be as beautiful as what he’s allowed you to see.

“Hm… I don’t know…”  You had answered back with a teasing lilt to your smile. The wolf had visibly been taken aback by the reply, wondering if he was being too indecisive. The panic that crosses his expression is so apparent that you can’t help but find it too cute. The bubble of a giggle soothes him, his shoulders sink with relief, eyes drinking up the beginnings of a smile that graces your lips.

Better than before, the air between you both had finally begun to calm and it felt more serene and secure, just as it was before this whole mess.

“Come back to us, (Y/n),” He said, more like a command than a request, but the way he whispered your name that time sent you soaring. The way the syllables of your name sounded on his tongue seemed almost unrealistic. You almost forgotten that he was fated to another lucky woman. 

Until Jimin interrupted the two of you of course. 

Both of you went rigid when Jimin’s messy brunette hair pops up from the edge of the roof. 

“You both are real loud you know?” His smile is goofy as he wiggles his eyebrows at the two, “You know… ‘cause us were-creatures have enhanced hearing.” He taps his right ear with a smirk before taking his leave when a growl emits from Jungkook’s chest. 

Glaring up at the familiar ceiling, Jungkook’s ceiling, you missed the sense of security you felt laying in his bed. His sheets, dare you say creepily, were drenched in his scent. Vanilla and a twist of floral, not the scent you’d expect of a growing boy, but you grew fond of it nonetheless as you continued to stay with the boys. 

You hadn’t realized it until now, the inexplicable warmth curled around your body. Turning over, you don’t expect Jungkook’s giant wolf form lying asleep behind you. 

How unexpected, you think, despite all this, the hybrid sleeping in the same bed as you was the most least likely to happen after all the tension between you both. If you recalled correctly as well, Jungkook was very adamant on sleeping on the floor last night.

Shades of pink blossom over your cheeks, a warm sensation settling in your chest as you reach out a hand to gently stroke your fingers over his fur. Soft. It doesn’t even feel like he’s a wolf, more like an extremely oversized puppy. His ears twitch at the sudden stimulation, and you’re suddenly aware that his tail had been curled over your hip. The long appendage rises and falls, wagging just slightly as you snicker softly and move to scratch your fingers behind his ear. 

An azure eye peers open, and his tail immediately halts before it can fall back over your side. He seems to grow increasingly aware that he’d slipped onto the bed in the middle of the night and despite his less expressive state as a wolf, he turns away in embarrassment. You, however, take this as disturbing his sleep. Smiling softly, you sift your fingers one last time down his spine with a whispered apology and good morning before getting up to head downstairs for some breakfast. 

A puff of air shoots from his nostrils, mimicking a sigh as he watches you glance back at him one more time before closing the door softly behind you. He’s hyper aware of you bumping into Hoseok at the stairs, no thanks to his enhanced hearing, and feels his tail bristling with jealousy when he can hear Hoseok laughing with you about something he hadn’t cared to remember.

“Are you a dumbass?” 

Jimin stood up from his seat, chopsticks clattering on the ground as his eyes flashed a dangerous gold hue at the hybrid. Namjoon stays steely, taken to resting his chin on his knuckles, eyes watching patiently as Seokjin pries their chairs further away from one another.

“I thought I’d spare her the pain knowing that a disgusting monster like me imprinted on her.”

“Spare her the pain? Are you sure you’re not trying to protect yourself from the possibility that she might reject you? Don’t even try to convince yourself that you’re pushing her away because you want to protect her,” Yoongi scoffs this time, his face doesn’t show it but his eyes swirl with a relentless storm, anger and disappointment as the younger scowls back at him. The hybrid doesn’t have a comeback, because he and everyone at the table knows that Yoongi’s right.

“She’s a mortal,” Hoseok speaks up, trying to lift the tension between his pack mates, although he was also quite upset at Jungkook’s childish and self-deprecating tendencies, “He has some right to being scared, she doesn’t feel the pull like he does, she might run away or have second thoughts about his feelings.”

“You do… like her… right?” he asks a little tentatively this time. All eyes turn to the youngest, eager and curious. He almost feels intimidated like he wants to shrivel up until the floor swallowed him whole. He can’t even bother trying to lie in front of them either, not when there were two vampires and a warlock that could force the truth out of him if need be.

“I do. So much it hurts. Ever since I decided that she and Hyejin are two different people and merely a present and a past, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, she’s all I can think about and I hate it. But I’m scared, I’m so scared, I don’t wanna hurt her. I was angry initially, frustrated, and torn. Why did the stars give me someone I could just as easily kill? I wanted to hate her, but I can’t. 

“She thinks I imprinted on Hyejin and I’m such a big dumbass I can’t bring myself to tell her that it’s her. She’s gonna think I’m playing with her, that I was only forced to like her. But fuck do I like her, it’s ruining me, smelling Yoongi’s scent on her made me so angry, I wanted to hurt you hyung, why does she smell like you when it should be me? I’ve messed up… but I can’t even trust myself around her.”

“Then tell her Kook-ah,” Seokjin smiles softly, “Obviously not that you imprinted on her since you’re obviously not ready yet… just that you’re not ready yet to disclose that part of yourself yet, I’m sure she’ll understand as long as you’re not simply pushing her away without saying anything.”

“Yeah Kookie! She’s a teenage girl, she’ll be more hurt that you continue to shut her out.”

Yoongi catches the teen once everyone had said their fill, motioning him to follow the elder into the thicket until they reached what was once the clearing where you and Jungkook had fought for your lives against the hunters. Seokjin had meant his word and returned to the area and cleaned up, no bodies, no damage from magic or fighting. Trees covered the area as though two meteors did not just come raining. Kneeling down, he sighed at his own reflection in the pond, the vibrant colors of the fish greeting his eyes. 

“I think you make her out to be a lot more weak than she really is, you know?” Yoongi finally says, standing at the top of the hill with his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. His eyes stare down at the water, his gaze pinned on the pond skater racing back and forth on the surface. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed in you, but you’re smarter than that.”

“I’m glad you took my food for thought and finally used your brains to realize what (Y/n) means to you, but I think you’re underestimating her a little too much.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but the withering glance from the older wolf has him deflating and clamping his mouth shut once more.

“I get it, but she’s been taking everything handed to her head on, the girl just found out she was a siphoner, had to fight her dead mother, and she’s just now trying to get the hang of using her abilities. You don’t think she can handle a little confession?”

The hybrid scoffed this time, tossing a pebble into the water. Its inhabitants fled the area as the rock broke past the surface with gentle ripples. “It’s not just a confession. You forget that she’s still mortal with human feelings. Hoseok-hyung said himself. She doesn’t full that pull and it will only confuse her. She’ll start thinking about the unnecessary like what if my feelings are all a lie. It’s not really me who likes her, it’s my wolf.”

“But you do like her?”

“I do! So fucking much it’s tearing me apart!”

Yoongi tapped Jungkook on the shoulder, waiting for the younger to turn before sending him stumbling into the pond with punch to his face. Slipping on the uneven ground, the boy fell backwards onto his rear with a large splash. Water goes flying from his sudden weight and he’s soaked from head to toe, simmering in the pond as he glares at the elder.

“Now that’s a look,” he chuckles, “Cool off a little will you? There’s nothing wrong with telling her, do it at your own pace sure, but you know you’re inevitably going to have to tell her someday. If she questions it, all you have to do is prove that you like her with or without the pull of your wolf.”

“Rejection is harsh, but seeing her move on without you is even harder, but she’s your soulmate in simpler terms, you just need to grow a pair. She can handle you, you just don’t give her the credit she deserves, you ass.”

Yoongi bends down to offer the boy a hand, to which Jungkook relents his glare and clasps his hand in the other’s. He should have seen it coming as the elder is yanked forward, head first diving into the pond. 

“You little fucker!”

“That’s what you fucking get, asshole.”

The two stare at each other pensively before bursting into laughter. Yoongi smiles softly at the younger, eyes warm as he nudges the boy with his fist.

“Still, I can’t believe I get to see the day you get all mushy over your imprintee”

“H-hyung!”

“I know Hyejin was something else, but still, you lucky bastard I still haven’t found my own mate yet.”

Jungkook stretched with a drawn out yawn, bones melding together and steam unfurling from his bare skin. Eyes struggling to stay open, he scratches and ruffles his hair before finding the energy to get up from bed. Looking for clothes, he pondered over the thought.

Was he really underestimating you?

“Glad to have you back,” Seokjin greets when you appear in the kitchen, offering to help as he prepares breakfast for all the boys. The warlock happily lets you set up the table with side dishes as he finished up the main plates. 

“Sorry for worrying everyone,” You say a bit hesitantly when you finally face the warlock. It hadn’t caught up to you just yet, but being around the boys again reminded you of how childish you were for running away like that.

“Don’t be, Kook’s just an idiot,” Taehyung hums when he walks in, ruffling his already messy hair as he yawns and rummages through the fridge. Returning to his full height, he winked your way while dangling a pouch of pork blood in between his two fingers. “If you get tired of waiting on him, I’ll always be an option.”

“There will be no options when I rip your head off,” Jungkook’s growl enters abruptly, startling you as you greeted him warmly. Releasing the vampire from his withering glare, he refocused his attention on you with a soft gleam in his chocolate gaze. 

“How scary,” Taehyung whines in feigned fear, emphasizing a shiver as he pierces the pouch with a straw, “And here I thought you let me off the hook for forcing her memories out.”

“And then shoving them back in you fuckhead!”

The two bicker and you can only muffle a giggle at how lively they are in the morning. You don’t realize the addition of another aura, until Namjoon’s large hand is gently squeezing your shoulder. You turn to look up to him, slightly surprised by his sudden entrance. If you didn’t know any better, the warmth of his smile that matched the gentleness in his dark eyes nearly made you forget that he was the vampiric leader of this rowdy bunch.

“At the very least they’re back to normal,” his deep voice rumbles with the ghost of a pleasant chuckle, “Yesterday was a little… tense… so let’s not run away again, yeah?”

“Y-yes sir!” You gulp, expecting his eyes to flash gold, but he merely laughs at your apparent fear.

“(Y/n), lighten up, I only say that since we are protecting you, the recent attack has us all on edge, you know. Jungkook’s a prick but nothing’s stopped you until now right? He’s just a bit... dumb.”

“I heard that hyung!”

Namjoon raises his hand from your shoulder quickly, holding it up with a cheeky grin when Jungkook turns his glare over to the blatant hand on your shoulder.

“Heel puppy,” Taehyung tsks, rolling his eyes at the youngest’s irritation. The second youngest moves to take a seat at the table when Jungkook elbows him, causing him to momentarily choke on his blood.

“Oh my Gods you children,” Seokjin sighs exasperatedly as the two bicker once more, whispering a silent spell that none too gently shoves them into the dining table chairs. The eldest shakes his head in disapproval as they pout and stare each other down.

The rest of the boys coming bounding into the room, at least on Hoseok and Jimin’s part. Yoongi could barely go a second without his mouth opening wide in a long yawn, dragging his feet and falling onto the chair with a slump.

Breakfast came and went, and you can only think about how fond you were starting to become of this scene. In the beginning, when you had first started staying with the pack, this scene felt weird. Like an outsider intruding on a happy family. But Hoseok was boasting to you about the dream he’d just had, and Jimin was conversing about the recent cartoon on television last night. It didn’t hit you when Jungkook had said it last night that the boys saw you as their own pack member. You didn’t even realize it until Jimin’s voice had melted into concern, blinking at you as others turned away from their conversations and breakfast to regard you with the same confusion and worry. 

“Hey, (Y/n), you’re crying, are you okay?”

You remembered Taehyung’s comforting words on the morning after the first attack.

“Family is Yahiko, family is us. That is… if you see us that way…” He said with a meek smile that day, “A family should be a place or people you can go home to and feel safe and loved. Evidently, the Blackwells do none of that.”

Then Jungkook’s words from last night.

“Then don’t hate yourself for being a burden to the pack, you’re not just a guest in our house now, you’re pretty much a pack member. The boys don’t treat you any differently than they would each other.”

Yahiko had been your only family up until now. Then Hyejin. Then Jungkook and the rest of the boys. Without your memories, you forgot what it was like to have a mother and a father, besides the ever doting kitsune who beckoned you to try liver and intestines, siblings and whatnot. Although you did have your mother before your memories were sealed, your coven brothers and sisters barely wanted to associate with you. Until now, you hadn’t thought about how the pack saw you, and you only thought that they were forced to have to keep you around and protect you because on your own, you had nothing and knew only the basis of what you could do as a siphoner. It all seemed obligatory from the start.

Maybe. Just maybe you found a place to belong with them. 

“I’m okay… just I’m sorry for causing so much panic yesterday…” You smiled meekly, accepting the napkin from Hoseok and wiping away the wet trails your tears had left in their wake. 

Would it be selfish to want to stay? 

“Hey, if you’re up for it, we can start some self defense training after you get home from school okay?” Seokjin says, offering a brief hug as the four of you prepare to leave for the day. You reply with a nod, much happier than you were minutes prior. 

Would it be too much to want to be with them even after all this is over?

“You’re such a cry baby,” Jungkook comments during lunch with Hyejin clinging to your side, the two exchange menacing leers with stuck out tongue from your best friend and a finger pulling down his eye lid from the male’s part. 

“I was being sentimental jerk,” You scoff, forcing your brows to scrunch in mock annoyance. 

“You were sentimental enough last night, quit it,” He frowns. In reality, he felt like he was being torn into two at the sight of tears. 

Hyejin rolls her eyes at them, “Would you two just make out already or something?” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks as did Jungkook’s, the ghost of a blush blossoming over his cheeks as he weakly glared at the girl. Jimin burst into obnoxious laughter, Taehyung looking away to very poorly muffle his own chuckle. 

I would if I could, you both thought, neither having enough courage to look the other in the eye right now. 

No no no, I told him I’d give him time to sort himself out, he has his own imprintee, I can’t just do that, you think to yourself.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you dumbass dog, Jungkook groans inwardly at his own reaction and thoughts. He’d be a liar if he denied wanting to, heavens above he’s wanted to for so long. Only problem was, if he started, he wasn’t sure if he could keep his hands away. Fuck, he was ready to combust right then and there. The image of your lips, their plush pressed against his, setting him on fire the same way he had when he first set eyes on you, stayed engraved into his mind. 

The remainder of his classes were spent distracted, half paying attention when he found his eyes drawing towards your form hunched over the desk beside him or even across the room with Hyejin beside you. By the time Potions had come around, he was ready to smash a flask into his face.

To rub salt to injury, Seokjin asked him to help out in training you. 

“I know we’re gonna be facing witches, who are more likely to attack using spells, but I just want you to be able to defend yourself if something like those bounty hunters happen again,” the warlock explains as the hybrid fidgets in his spot beside the elder, “We’ll keep studying and practicing some defensive and offensive skills, so you can get the hang of using your magic more often.”

Despite the obvious tension between the two of you, Seokjin teaches you how to punch correctly and to specific points like the inside of the arm. Jungkook forces down his heart in his throat and does his best to be your sparring partner.

Using a spell that covers your flesh in a layer of magic that protects you from the brunt of Jungkook’s punch and kick, Seokjin directs you and guides your body into a balanced stance. It helps make sure you don’t get knocked back too easily, as he fixes the awkward angle of your arm in a better block.

By the next day, Seokjin has you moving onto redirection and throws. You’re still a little sloppy at blocking and dodging, but he smiles and assures you that with more practice you’ll start getting the hang of it. He has Jungkook throwing punches your way for you to use your hand to push it aside. 

“Chances are, your attacker might be just a large as this brick wall,” the warlock grins as the hybrid frowns, “And I don’t expect you to be able to lift him with just brute strength, but you can use his weight to your advantage and be able to flip him over your shoulder, as well as knock him down.”

Jungkook can barely concentrate on what the elder is explaining, his senses overwhelmed at the close proximity with his arm around your neck in a mock choke. Your scent invades his nose, the beginnings of a blush crawling up his neck as your fingers curl over his forearm, pulling him down as you spread your feet into a base stance. Your right hand twists around the shoulder of his sleeve, pushing your hips back into his. 

“Good good, he’s off balance, now take use of that to step forward with your right and throw him.”

The hybrid is too distracted to realize what’s happening, when his world goes flying and suddenly he’s on his back and you’re on your knees beside him, hands still curled on his arm and shoulder.

“Perfect! Just don’t fall with him too!” Seokin chuckles as you bow in response and offer the wolf a hand. Not wanting to be rude, he gives in and clasps his hand over yours, wincing when his heart pounds at the simple touch of your skin on his. Your skin retreats from his, but the skin of his palm is still tingling with what’s left of your lingering warmth. 

Damn the mutt inside him. 

“A-are you okay?” You ask worriedly, noticing how spaced out he was.

“I’m fine, that was one helluvah throw though,” He says with a tight lipped smile, knowing he was very well distracted by holding you close like that. 

“Alright you two, if you’re done chatting, we can do a few more throws and try some leg sweeps.”

True to his word, you have your left arm splayed across Jungkook’s chest, holding his left arm with your right. Pressing against him, your leg moves forward before swinging back against Jungkook’s, swiping it from the ground. The pressure of your left forces him down, moving your hand the way Seokjin had instructed around his head and guiding him down. 

It was exhilarating, although in a controlled and safe environment, you felt confident being able to take down Jungkook. Although he obviously wasn’t putting that much resistance, you felt a little more safer being able to know such techniques. 

“How you feeling?” He asks nonchalantly when you get ready for bed that night. The hybrid made it routine to sleep on the floor in wolf form now, only to always end up crawling onto the bed in the middle of the night right after. Despite knowing his clothes were only going to be kicked under the bed after he turns, he settles on the foot of the bed to chat for a little.

You offer him a smile, drying off your damp hair after a much needed shower, “Muscles a little sore, but I’m glad to be able to learn how to defend myself when the time finally comes, you know.”

“That’s good,” He mumbles, unsure what else to say without sounding weird or desperate. Hey I really like the way you slammed me into the ground today or wow you looked so fucking hot standing above me. Oh heavens what even was that last thought? 

“You seem pretty versed in fighting, I mean you were always good… not that you were ever bad or anything… you held your own against those two hunters really well… and er… okay I’m gonna shut my mouth now.”

He couldn’t help his own sputter, a small pfft passed through his hand covering over his mouth. The attempts to muffle his amusement failed and he noticed the way you weakly glare at his reaction.

“I enjoyed Taekwondo when I was younger, they were wary of me as a supernatural, so I mostly practiced by myself or with Junghyun, and… after that…” His voice faltered momentarily and you can guess what he was referring to, “I practiced with Namjoon and Hoseok sometimes. Times are peaceful now though, so I never really had a reason to fight seriously until your dumbass came around.”

“Okay, listen, I did not ask to be attacked like this,” You frown at his jab.

“You played yourself for even breathing,” He cracks a subtle smile that you take in greedily. This was good. This was very good progress. You both were talking, and he even showed just a minuscule of emotion. Something was better than nothing at all. 

“For someone who’s never had to fight or protect themself, you’re doing pretty well,” He says after a moment of silence, eyes peering over to you, “A little more practice and I might actually feel a pinch when you hit me.” He cracks a mischievous quirk at the corner of his lips with a subtle twitch of his eyebrow. 

You however, puff out your cheeks and launch one of his pillows at him.

When Jungkook has long curled up in his wolf form, lying at the foot of the bed while you take up your usual spot on his bed, he’s abruptly awoken by the heavy musk of distress. Marine eyes fly open in alarm, darting back and forth within the darkness of his room. His dry nose twitches in recognition of the obvious discomforting scent. Ears flicking, he raises his head to glance towards the bed where you lay. 

As he thought, you’re tossing around, curling into a fetal position. Your breath hitches, eyebrows furrowing from what he can tell in the dark. 

Knowing himself, he can’t just leave you alone. Not like he was able to stay away anyways, always waking up curled beside you on the bed for the past few mornings. The lack of self control was astounding. 

And just like those nights, he rises from his position, shaking his head briefly before stepping onto the bed. The frame whines at the added weight, mattress dipping as he crawls to your side. Silently letting his large body curl around you, tail swishing in excitement before falling over your form, he settles comfortably. His azure gaze is hooded, watching as you toss once more before finding his warmth and relaxing against him. 

What were you dreaming about? He wonders as his mouth opens in a long yawn. 

What has you so antsy at night, even when you were long unconscious and deep asleep?

Maybe he’ll ask tomorrow.

Morning falls over the cabin once more, the day passing as you attend school and return to another day of training. 

“Alright, hope you know how to clench your teeth, a lot of physical fights end up on the ground, so we’re gonna practice some falls and then some ground fighting.”

Some what?

“Clench your teeth Kookie-ah!”

.

.

Tags!! (Let me know if you want to be added or if I forgot you!!) 

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[darkestwolfx]

Afternoon Tea

Wolfie intended to post this last night and she fell asleep. Really sorry, Tsari! This week might be a more successful writing week though as I don’t have as many calls scheduled in, meaning I can stay in my own time zone a bit more. Hooray!

Anyhow, I won’t babble too much, I’ll just jump into the long-awaited and deserved fic (and yes, Tsari, there are still more after this so don’t panic)!

So, more wishes to grant, and here was the next on the list. This is something nice and friendshippy between Ned and John? Bonus points for including Gladys and EOS for @tsarinatorment as part of @gumnut-logic‘s #irrelief2020. And I suppose it kind of covers a bit of Parker babysitting for you as well.

For a reference, imagine this is set after 'A Seed Once Sown'. You don't have to read that to understand this, but basically, John gets Ned a new job as the Tracy Family's gardener, so you're all caught up now. Also, I've only given this the one, quick proof read due to time constraints, so any mistakes are my own, sorry!

Summary: A not so normal family couldn't be expected to have strictly normal friends. So what if they were pot plants and AI's? Scott swears it's all something of a dream, he's overtired as it. But did someone say cake?

Word count: Just under 6000, I think, maybe 5800-ish?

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Scott honestly couldn't remember what he was meant to be asking John anymore. Alan and Gordon were planning something, that much he could tell, and they'd needed to know something which Scott's brotherly knowledge didn't extend to. He might be the eldest, but that didn't mean he had a decent understanding of physics. That, was John's area, as he had remembered pointing out, to which Alan and Gordon promptly stated;

"We tried!"

"We can't get a hold of him to ask him."

"So we thought we'd ask you."

Scott remembered trying not to be offended.

"But you knew I wouldn't know that."

"We thought that was likely."

"But asking was worthwhile."

Scott had shaken his head, not really sure how to deal with the troublesome pair when their energy levels were at a full on sugar high, the day off running through their bloodstream like an additional stimulant, and honestly Scott just wanted to rest, have a moment of peace and quiet. As it was, they were heading towards Gordon and Alan finishing each other's sentences by the end of the day whilst they created chaos.

The chaos would be created anyway. There was a sparkle in brown and blue eyes, one that Scott knew all too well-meant trouble – maybe another minor explosion, great. John wouldn't be able to stop them. The plan was clearly laid, but if they wanted to ask John something, Scott figured it was probably worth trying to follow the query through. It might reduce the chances of something exploding, after all.

"What makes you think I'll be able to get hold of him?"

"He always answers you."

"Yeah."

Scott didn't think that was strictly true, but he couldn't be bothered to argue, so he went with it.

And that was how he ended up here. Here being sitting on the sofa in the lounge, listening to Gordon and Alan's master-planning floating in from the sunny poolside, wishing maybe he could be out there napping (or was that dangerous with the terrible two around?) whilst waiting for John to answer.

For the third time.

So, no John didn't always answer him.

Scott was prepared to go out and tell his youngest brothers that, no, he wasn't successful either, stuff it all and go back to bed, but… those same eldest brother instincts were niggling. They'd been given life after the blonde pair told him John hadn't answered, and they'd been nibbling freely at his youth ever since his first call went unanswered.

One more call. He told himself. He would try once more. Then he would tell the troublemakers there was no success, risk of explosion and all, and try to go back to bed. He was tired. He hated days off; that first day of quiet, of nothing, it made him feel far more tired than any stream of rescues did.

It was the stopping, he supposed.

He had time to 'suppose' on the subject whilst he waited for the call to connect.

And waited.

And realised he must be getting even more grey hairs at this rate.

The call didn't connect.

The nibbling turned to biting.

EOS wouldn't. Scott knew that now. He'd spent far too much time seeing her for who she really was, witnessing the lengths she would go to for John (and them), and many hours speaking with her. Prattling, as Virgil would probably say.

EOS wouldn't, but that didn't mean the vast world of Space would be as kind. He got up, giving in, and heading for the desk.

Thunderbird Five was still there. The scans weren't showing any alerts or damage and there wasn't any maintenance on the scheduling list and Brains was still here, wasn't he?

"Hey Scott."

"Nothing, blast."

"Uhh… ok?"

He pulled his head up. Virgil was standing on the opposite side of the lounge, looking very miffed. Probably debating whether he should admit his brother to an institution. Virgil hadn't thought quite that drastically, although he had been deliberating how badly Scott would shout at him if he called Grandma up to look over the eldest.

"I didn't see you there."

"You didn't hear me either, clearly."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Hey Scott."

"Right."

"What's taken your attention? Grey Hairs?"

"Hey!"

It was meant to sound more commanding than that, but it was bit half hearted really. The biting was rather violently taking chunks out of his bloodstream. Or it felt like it.

Virgil just nodded.

"Something serious then."

"Yeah. Brains is still here, isn't he?"

"Where else would he be?" Virgil seemed quite confused.

"I can't get hold of John. I thought maybe something had come up?"

"No, Brains is still building his to scale model of that thing from Atlantis."

"Right. So where's John?"

Virgil, laughed.

"Grey hairs indeed."

"What?"

"John's fine. EOS left me a virtual note. Some new answer machine type thing, she and John have tried to install. They're having afternoon tea with the Queen."

"He's what?"

"Yeah, I spoke to him earlier, well to EOS, briefly. John was greeting their guest apparently. But they are both fine, save yourself another grey hair."

With that, Virgil was heading out into the sunshine, risking whatever Gordon and Alan had up their sleeves. The chatter started up, but Scott was only half-listening. He was still mulling over what Virgil had said. John was ok, that was good enough for him to cease worrying – well, sort of, the biting was slowing back down to simple annoying nibbling; present, but not all encompassing anymore.

No, Scott was actually focusing on the part about afternoon tea with the Queen. He could hardly believe that Lady Penelope had managed to get John down to Earth again. The secrecy part, the not being told, that he could believe. Still- hold on.

The metaphor of holding horses went straight through Scott's mind as he pulled his head up like one might tug fiercely on the reins.

Virgil had spoken to EOS. EOS who never left the safe confines of Thunderbird Five unless strictly necessary. Furthermore, Virgil had said John was greeting their guest… oh. The Queen had gone to Thunderbird Five?

Carefully, Scott reached out to pinch the skin of his arm. He would have asked someone else to do it, but never again were his brother's going anywhere near him with pincers poised.

Still, he maybe didn't need to pinch himself quite as hard as he did.

"Ow!"

"You alright Scott?" Virgil called in.

"Yeah! Fine! Stubbed my… toe."

"Found grey hairs more like it." He heard Gordon mumble, and there was probably some agreement from Alan there as well, but he switched his hearing loop for the pair off. He'd had quite enough of that.

Point was though, he wasn't dreaming. Because this could have all been an elaborate dream out of tiredness.

Scott was trying to work out how to get his answers…. Maybe Grandma would know? When suddenly, a call came through.

It was Thunderbird Five. It was John.

"Scott?"

"There you are!"

He tried not to seem too relived. Although the niggling finally died a death.

"Sorry, um- Can you, thanks." There was a strange shuffling and passing of… was that a teacup? Scott momentarily wondered if he'd fallen through a rabbit whole like Alice and made his way into Wonderland. Wasn't that story all about drugs though? Or magic mushrooms or something? Maybe he hadn't then… Maybe he was going mad. "Did you need something?"

"Gordon and Alan wanted something. Nothing desperate. Uh… I can't even remember."

"They're not trying to make improvised explosives again, are they?"

"I honestly didn't ask."

Scott never asked anymore, not after all the trouble with shaken up and exploding bottles of Cola. Grandma had gone berserk, and it was easier to claim innocence if you knew nothing. Also, if it was all a prank, intended for him, he'd almost rather not know what was coming. He just kept an eye on the pair of them, and never let them do the supply run together ever again. Even if that meant owing Virgil a bloody ton for constantly going, dutifully with Grandma.

"Probably unwise."

Scott shrugged.

"I can talk to them, quickly, if they're around?"

"They by the pool. I wouldn't worry, not if you're busy. Virgil… Virgil said something about the Queen?"

"I haven't heard anything. I can check the news if you want? Hold on. No, EOS, Battenburg is the pink and yellow one. Well, Scott?"

"Well…?"

The eldest was still trying to put everything together. Was Virgil playing a practical joke on him? John didn't seem to know anything about the Queen. And had he heard cake mentioned? Maybe he really was losing it.

"There's no reports of anything to do with the Queen. I could ask Lady Penelope if she knows anything?"

"Right, um, are you-

"John-"

"EOS, jam tarts are red."

"What?"

"Sorry Scott, you were saying?"

Scott honestly didn't know what he was trying to say right about now.

And of course, that moment of his great confusion was when his brothers reappeared, Virgil shouting at Gordon that once his new tin of paint arrived, the fish would be doing naught but fixing Thunderbird Two.

Scott realised he'd obviously missed something there too.

"Oh look it's John."

"Is that tea?"

"John's having tea with the Queen." Virgil reminded.

"Oh, really?"

"And we weren't invited."

Scott didn't notice that John too had frowned here, about to say something before he was beaten to it.

"He's not having tea with the Queen!"

"Um… okay?" Virgil began, once again a little unsure. John was blinking in confusion, looking back to EOS as though she held the answers, and if the AI could have shrugged, she would have. "Are you doing okay, Scott?"

"I'm so confused!"

"Right," John began, clearing his throat, "Let me try and clear the problem here."

Scott was more than pleased to let him. That is, after all, what his brother did best.

"Go for it. Who the hell are you having tea with?"

---------

Ned was experienced in many things. He'd worked in space; under the sea; with one of the biggest defense organisations known to the world and with a selection of important vaults. He'd faced death at the tendrils of the sun; at the ends of the perilous deep ocean's grip; at the hands of an irate Colonel; some Mechanical guy; and a poisonous gas.

He was experienced in many things, and Gladys had been by his side for them all, but he was only truly experienced in one thing.

Gardening.

Well, maybe two: he was pretty good at making tea.

Oh, make it three: he was a very good baker, if he didn't say so himself.

Thanks to those Tracy boys, Ned had realised where he belonged. He always should have stuck with gardening. Gladys liked gardening too.

His business was flying by now. He had quite the clientele on his list and brilliant references from International Rescue to get his foot in any door. It was all rather surprising, how all of this had come out of one offer to become a gardener to a family in need.

It had been a while since he'd seen any of the Tracy boys, but today was different.

Space looked different when you weren't going up there to work, or with limited interest. He was keenly awaiting sight of the one Thunderbird he'd yet to properly see.

He'd spent a lot of time baking and he hoped he'd made enough. He had four hold-all's full, but he'd seen the appetite on that family.

Although, then again, he was only meeting one man and a machine.

Speaking of, the space station swung into his view, looking like it belonged in the vast floatiness.

"Here we are, Gladys! Thunderbird Five!"

And he'd been waiting a very long time for this.

---------

John had been a little more than surprised when Ned asked if he could come to Thunderbird Five. They'd had the date on the calendar for a while now. Ned may have his own business, but he still maintained the Tracy Island gardens, and John had been in contact with the man ever since he left the safe haven of the island. Ned had kept himself miraculously out of trouble since, actually.

So no, John wasn't surprised by their meeting, but definitely by the choice of location. He'd assumed Ned wouldn't want to step foot in space again after the asteroid mine and the iridium vault. But, Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five, and (maybe most surprisingly of all) EOS, again. Apparently, Gladys missed having a friend.

John had thought that a little silly at first. Because a non-sentient pot plant couldn't possibly miss what it didn't have, but then EOS had made a gleeful point about having missed her potty pink companion and John honestly wondered if it was possible for plants to have sentience. They did have life, after all. Ned certainly seemed to believe there was more to them, what with this great love for all things garden.

He'd agreed. Because, after all, it did save him from ending up at some coffee shop of choice with gravity down on Earth. He much preferred staying here anyhow.

He'd had EOS leave a message for his brothers, so they knew he was there, but not readily available for any great scheme that was being concocted in the absence of work. They'd been working on a new program recently, so that people could leave International Rescue messages, in case of busy times, or if they ever needed to go 'out of office' again so to speak. John was sure it was fine, so he'd left the job of leaving the first ever message with EOS, in the hope that the holo-communication system would display it.

And if not, Virgil would know he was alive. They'd been chatting for a bit whilst Virgil had him place an order for some new paint for Thunderbird Two. Alan or Gordon – John didn't know who and he didn't want to know – had scratched Thunderbird Two on the last outing. Again.

And so the day had come, and Ned arrived. John had offered him to come via Tracy Island and the Space Elevator, but Ned had proclaimed he wanted to surprise his brothers, and besides, had already booked himself and Gladys onto a nice little connecting flight via the newly rebuilt Space Hub One. John had merely smiled and let the man go about his odd ways, although he had asked that Ned say hello to a Chief Controller Conrad for him. He'd been more than happy to pick Ned up from the Space Hub, but Conrad had sent someone to him instead.

So he and EOS hadn't moved a muscle in waiting for their guest until EOS registered that it was time to open the airlock.

John had expected Ned and Gladys. He hadn't expected the boxes.

"Hello!"

"Ned. Nice to see you again. And Gladys."

"It's very nice to be here. Gladys is very excited."

"Yes, well, what's all this?"

"We're having afternoon tea."

"Yes, but-"

"Well, I took to presuming you might not keep tea on a space station."

"Um, no I don't as it happens."

"Good! Because I've brought my best china. Here you go."

And before John really knew what was going on, he was carrying two boxes whilst Ned carried the last and Gladys, making his way into Thunderbird Five by following EOS along her track. He was commenting on everything, saving nothing for later, musing over why it was all so white, and whether he needed it painted because Ned could do painting (apparently), and complimenting the nice little colours on the windows.

John didn't even bother to remind him they weren't really windows or correct him on any amount of stuff. The man was harmless and simple. Everything someone from International Rescue, like himself, needed the odd dose of.

They'd chattered aimlessly whilst Ned brewed tea and set multiple sweet treats onto plates. EOS was eyeing them all, jealously, not really even knowing what they were or what they tasted like, but John did. And he could see multiple traditional favourites. And he liked what he saw. EOS was googling them. Again. Honestly, he'd told her google was rubbish. It would only be a matter of time before something came out of that.

But when the tea was brewed to Ned's satisfaction, they sat themselves – as best as you can in space – with their pristine china teacups, all white with pink edging. They were obviously kept for best, just as Ned had said.

EOS was hovering by his shoulder, and Ned has rested Gladys by his side, with multiple plates surrounding the pot. If John was anyone else, besides John Tracy son of Jeff Tracy and member of International Rescue, he honestly would have been baffled at the sight of two men, an AI and a plant pot, sharing tea with cake and biscuits. Oh, not forgetting the whole in space part.

The picture would have made quite the post card.

Lady Penelope would have loved it. As proof he was socialising.

"So how's business, Ned?"

"Oh no complaints here. I do a good trade in Petunias."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, fly off the imaginary shelves they do! Because I keep them in the ground, get it?"

"Yes, I got that."

"Course you did. You're the smart one. That's what Gladys and I think."

"That's very kind of you."

"John?" EOS butted in, well sort of. It was an open conversation, and Ned had come to see her just as much as he'd come to see him, John reminded himself. He'd even gone so far as to offer her a biscuit. John had resisted the urge to face palm. It wasn't polite afternoon tea manners, he remembered. Besides, EOS had laughed, clearly finding it quite entertaining before asking Ned for a description of what said biscuit tasted like – so she could learn. Which had then led them to a rather interesting commentary on the flavours of different biscuits, Ned describing to EOS precisely why Highland Shortbread was different to Shortbread Snaps. John munched thoughtfully on a piece of each, realising he'd never noticed the distinct sugary difference before. Or rather, if he ever had known it, he'd forgotten all about it.

That was exactly what he meant: about the grandeur of International Rescue overpowering the littlest of things. Ned was a reminder.

"Yes EOS?"

"Can we have a garden?"

"I don't know if it would last, EOS."

"Oh… but it would be lovely to have bright plants around us!"

John could actually kind of imagine it. And he wasn't sure if was a good idea or not.

"I suppose, but-"

"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble to do!"

"I'm not a gardener though, Ned."

And even if he was, he didn't know if he could achieve the growing and successful life of plants in space.

"I can do it! Bring some hardy plants up, find a place for them. We could do that, couldn't we, Gladys?"

A moment of silence whilst they waited dutifully the amount of time it would take for the plant to give an imaginary 'yes'.

It was the only thing John still wasn't quite used to.

"Well, I suppose we could always try it."

It was more to placate his company than because he thought it was a good idea. Only time would tell. And at least he could say he'd tried.

"Hooray!" EOS was definitely like a child still. "I wonder if they'll grow as big as the ones I saw on Earth?"

"They were growth serum induced EOS."

And that he was definitely not heaving up here.

"And I seem to remember having a fever."

John was honesty trying to discount that entire plant mad day from his memory banks still.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to say- Jam tart?"

"Thank you."

"-Thanks for letting me do all the gardening. On the Island."

"Oh, no thank you, Ned! I think Grandma was about to drive us all stir crazy. Either that, or Gordon might have tried to use the lawn mower again."

"Oh?" Ned asked around a mouthful of jam and pastry. "Not the Squid's thing?"

"He nearly cut his fingers off the last time."

"How'd he nearly do that? Any decent lawn mower has a cut-off switch." Hmm, of course. Gardening was Ned's comfort zone, you could hear that, just as space and communications were his.

"And any decent person using a lawn mower doesn't usually try running with it to get it done sooner."

"Ah, rushes, I see. I thought that was more the Hot-Shot Kid?"

"No. Alan's actually tempered. Scott rushes."

"That's your big brother?" Ned had spent enough time around them all to know them, but it had been a while, and (as John had learnt) Ned tended to go by his nicknames for them, as opposed to their given names.

"The one and only."

"The one I threw Iridium at?"

"Yeah… maybe don't bring that up. Scott's still a little bitter."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Oh, no. He knows that, Ned. It's not about the fact you threw it at him- well, sort of, more the fact the have better aim that him."

"Oh! It's nice to know I can do something."

"Speaking of, when could you next visit the Island? Grandma's been on about some kind of trellis? And Virgil is really interested in Topiary. He's trying to keep that a secret, but umm... he still forgets EOS can still read their search history."

'Forget' might be exaggeration of the truth. Gordon had found out after EOS had told John something she'd found without actually telling him how she knew. Alright, you could argue that John should have asked, but he hadn't. When he'd then mentioned it, Gordon had brightly put two and two together. John had promised to make EOS stop. But she didn't and John didn't actually mind. It had given him a great idea for what to get Alan for his 21st.

"I am very good at that now, John. Undetectable."

Ned chuckled. "Is there anything she isn't good at?"

"Probably not."

"I have multiple functions. I am a rescue assistant, a de-bugger, a computer hacker-"

"Ok, EOS, that's probably enough."

"Oi, you plotting to take over the world or something?"

"If I was Ned, I'd let you know. We'd need a few more flowers to brighten everything up out there."

"Oh, we could do that." Ned actually sounded quite excited at the prospect of being part of a world domination plan. "Couldn't we Gladys?"

Another imaginary 'yes' pause. Well, that time John actually thought he heard something. He briefly shook his head at EOS who gave a little flicker of mischievous purple. Great. She was working on a voice program for a pot plant. The world didn't need him gaining an army of talking plants. And he probably shouldn't think of that. EOS had a strange way now of working out what he was thinking.

"Biscuit?"

Ned offered another plate his way.

As if John would say no. For once, this was good homemade stuff, nothing like what Grandma conjured. It was a shame their Granddad's grand cooking abilities never rubbed off – and that the man was a little too shy to tell his wife she couldn't bloody cook.

This, was actually quite a good way to spend an afternoon. It was like having a butler. A little like Parker. Hmm. John loved his own space, but maybe that wasn't too bad an idea. And EOS would have Gladys for company. Gladys who she could give voice too. Yes, maybe that was an idea worth entertaining. He'd make sure to put it on their discussion list for later.

After a bit of looking at the calendar – which for them of course, could mean nothing in a second's notice – plans had been made, back-up plans had been made, and a final resort back-up was steadily waiting in the wings. Just in case the world decided to fall into utter chaos on all the prior days. John was nothing if not prepared for most – if not all – scenarios.

And with all this sorted, they moved on their discussion.

"So what's been happening with International Rescue whilst I've been away doing me worldwide gardening?"

"We've had a pretty run of the mill time of it. Minor volcano incident, hurricane, little rockfall - did more damage to property than people. Oh, we did go to The Mechanic's new Zero-X2 launch."

"Oh the scary bad-turned-good guy that took me into space in the vault?"

"Yes."

Ned nodded, like that whole trip had been washed through the crystal blue waters under the bridges of forgiveness.

"How was it?"

"Absolute success. Brains was ranting for days."

"Good that, isn't it, Gladys?"

It was at this point that Ned lifted Gladys from her comfy place of residence to take hold of her once more.

John couldn't comprehend how he hadn't noticed it; well of course he could, there had been EOS, and Ned, and Gladys, and cups of tea and Battenbergs, with biscuits and jam tarts – all homemade – and it had been a little like the days they'd spent at Lady Penelope's as children under Parker's supervision. Parker had claimed to not be very good with children and to have absolutely no experience whatsoever. John smiled wryly at that. Yeah right. Give children sweet treats and they will bend to your instructions. Not to mention that all the while they sat on the comfy sofas - munching and trying not to leave crumbs – Parker would be demonstrating his excellent array of 'magic' tricks. It was only when Gordon asked for a go that Scott had realised what Parker had actually been meaning to teach them.

Anyhow, Gladys had been resting on a communication switch. Ned noticed this too as he clutched the pot close to him. He stil expected to be shouted at, like his days back in the GDF, or admonished by his employers, like his days back in Hydrexler, or left stranded and alone, like his days back asteroid mining. He was human. John could recognise. If he was completely honest, that was more his reasoning for proposing to Colonel Casey an offer he knew Ned would never refuse; that, more than the fact getting a gardener would save them and appease Grandma.

Of all the people they'd rescued, Ned had grown on him. No puns intended.

"Oh… Sorry?"

"It's fine, Ned. If it was anything serious Thunderbird Three would be outside."

John may have turned his back, but he could tell Ned was looking desperately around outside for any sight of the Thunderbirds. Ned had had a rare opportunity to see them all now, and yet still gazed upon like he'd never seen sight of them.

John could understand that.

Scott appeared before him, looking like he was trying to hide his great relief.

John hid a smile.

And tried to appease his brother's worry at the same time as Ned offering him another cup of absolutely fantastic tea.

Obscuring a teacup on holo-communications wasn't easy.

But he was going to damn well try his best.

He knew what would happen if his brother's caught sight of edible food.

---------

"I did leave a message."

"And I got it." Explained Virgil, sitting down comfortably on the sofa. "It said you were having afternoon tea with the queen."

"Umm… no." John replied. "That's not what is should have said. EOS?"

"I sent what you told me too, John."

"I never the Queen, EOS."

"But Gladys likes to think of herself as a Queen of the Geranium's."

"Too right she is!" Ned exclaimed, merrily, still holding Gladys in his grasp.

For a moment, there was absolute silence from the island.

Scott no longer knew whether he was dreaming, in the middle of a nightmare, or maybe I he had been slipped the odd set of drugs.

There, sharing the holo-screen with John, was Ned Tedford and Gladys.

"You're having afternoon tea with Ned and Gladys?" Gordon exclaimed.

"Yeah." John answered, like it was a normality. "Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five."

"I really like it. Especially the floaty floatiness."

"John, I still cannot find that word in the dictionary."

"It doesn't matter EOS."

Alan was just a mess of chuckles. In fact, Scott was surprised there was anything left of him save the sound.

And of course, it was – as things usually were for the Tracy's – at this moment that Ned raised a plate full of neatly sliced cake. John would have liked to have finished the explanations first, and kept the whole Ned being here thing a secret. Especially as they'd been planning a great surprise for Virgil's birthday. John still vowed to make up for the one which the middle child essentially 'missed' which he still felt a little at fault for. This would top that ruined surprise in seconds. As it was, John had learnt that Ned was good at keeping secrets, so there wouldn't be any worries there. The problem was how to deal with now.

Now being the very obvious sight of cake.

The harm was already done, so John reached out a took a piece.

"Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome."

"What?" Alan bellowed, narrowly avoiding taking Scott's ears clean off, "You have cake?"

"Homemade and all." Ned added, somehow managing to balance a numerous amount of plates in his grasp, with one balancing on Gladys as well. EOS' little lights brightened, and John sighed at her forming even more grand ideas. Gladys was not proving the greatest of influences on his AI, and John felt an understanding for the struggles of their father when the boys went out into the world, forming their own friendships.

Eyes were glimmering back at them.

"You-"

"Have-"

"Cake!"

John wasn't sure what happened first really. In seconds, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were on their feet.

"Hello Ned!" Gordon waved.

"We're on our way up."

Alan was rushing around like a mad thing.

"To Thunderbird Three!"

"You mean to the cake!" Gordon insisted, following the youngest at a speed that rivalled a sports car.

"Scott, are you coming with?"

Virgil was waiting, looking at the brunette expectantly.

Scott wanted to say no. He wanted to go bad to bed and sleep, because clearly he needed it. His head still wasn't entirely wrapped around the fact that EOS could apparently talk to Gladys and that the pot plant liked to be thought of as a Queen, nor why Ned was waving at them from Thunderbird Five whilst pouring cups of tea and sharing biscuits with John like he'd lived up there for years now. He was entirely lost as to where the real Queen fitted in, he'd honestly forgotten his true reason for even trying to call John – which got him involved in all this madness in the first place, and everyone rushing around and shouting was doing nothing for his head.

But there was cake. Homemade cake, that – most importantly – didn't look like it would poison them.

John couldn't really eat it all. They were only looking out for his health by going up there to help finish it, Scott supposed.

Some second wind had him off his feet in seconds.

"See you in a bit, John."

Virgil gave a little cheer and some kind of funny-step-dance that wasn't really a dance, which John desperately hoped EOS had been recording. She recorded everything on the Island now. Even Gordon's singing the in the shower. John had questioned why, slightly unsure as to whether it was even a good idea to be doing so, only for EOS to play him a section – audio only, thank whatever God there was. Gordon was surprisingly good. No, not good actually. Pretty good. Now one could hold a tune quite like Virgil could, but John was surprised to find that Gordon had a talent he wasn't boasting about. He'd asked – slightly more wisely – why EOS was even keeping that. Her pointed answer was exactly what he should have expected. Blackmail material. John had wondered then if he should have let EOS get her claws on the World Wide Web. She edited Wikipedia enough as it was.

Still, as his brothers left his sights, heading to warm up Thunderbird Three, John waved a hand to EOS who closed the link. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to Ned. It wouldn't be long before his brothers joined them, shattering the peace and quiet of Thunderbird Five, stomping rudely over proper afternoon tea. John sometimes wondered how Lady Penelope put up with Gordon making all the mess he did when he stayed in London. Parker. That one was obvious. The man spent more time running around Gordon to keep everything in order than he did shadowing Lady Penelope for her own safety.

Their quiet afternoon was dead in the water. A very new one was about to begin.

"Sorry Ned. It will get noisy now, and busy, and… crazy."

He wasn't going to hold back. Ned knew them well enough after all.

"Oh that's alright. Gladys and I wondered if we might be seeing everyone, so I've bought plenty of everything. A gardener is always prepared!"

Far more prepared it seemed than the man had been in any other job.

John glanced over towards the two unopened boxes. If they contained anything like the feat that was currently placed before them, they would be absolutely fine. Ned was finally right where he was meant to be.

And John supposed he should have asked why Ned had bought a full set of teacups.

Always prepared, those gardening types.

[luciddeparture]

Is Meditation for Morons?

I’m can’t exactly recall the first time I decided to meditate. I just know what happened when I finally bothered to learn how to. It has since had a profound effect on my life. 

Now I know what you are probably thinking… “Meditation? I don’t need any of that woo woo crap in my life.” That’s at least how I used to feel about it, but who knows? Maybe you are a little bit less cynical than I was. 

It is somewhat ironic that I am now the one who is writing a blog on meditation and its benefits.

When I first heard about meditation I immediately dismissed it, until I rediscovered it about two years ago whilst listening to a podcast called The Tim Ferris Show. The podcast is a series of interviews where Tim Ferris interviews top performers in a variety of fields from all around the world. Surprisingly, over “80% of the people [he] interviews have some form of meditation practice”. That’s a significant percentage! I’m by no means insinuating that we all need to be world-class performers, but I feel that it could not hurt to learn from those who are achieving high levels of success. Especially when there is an easily identifiable common trait, which in this case is meditation. 

It slowly became clearer and clearer to me that meditation might be less bullshit than I had originally anticipated. 

Before we get into things, it is important to acknowledge that although meditation is now becoming increasingly commercialised and “trendy” in Western Cultures, meditation has been a huge component of many spiritual practices for many hundreds of years. In the East, meditation played a huge role in particular in both Hinduism and Buddhism. The earliest records of Meditation can be found in the Vedas, a religious text written in Sanskrit in 500bc.  After reading the Vedas the Buddha added his own spin too, developing his own technique called Satipatthana, which is now most commonly known as Mindfulness. The direct translation is Sati (Attention) or (Remember) + Upa (Inside) + Thana (to keep) So Satipatthana means: To keep your attention inside. 

Transcendental Meditation was introduced to the West in part by the popular culture of the 1960’s. A notable contribution was The Beatles sharing their experiences after visiting India. Although Mindfulness meditation was introduced much later to Western Cultures. Throughout this article I will primarily be discussing the effects of Mindfulness Meditation.

Over the last few years, the process of meditation, as well as its effects, has become a rapidly expanding subfield of neurological research. One of the most interesting experiments involved scientists conducting tests on a Monk, finding that although he was 41 he had the brain of a 33 year old. They gave him an FMRI scan while asking him to cultivate a sense of compassion by meditating, and the neural activity in his empathy circuits grew by 700-800%!  One of the researches later wrote “Such an extreme increase befuddles science.” 

When most of us anticipate getting burned our pain receptors act as though we are already suffering. So much so that when the pain actually comes nothing really changes. Once the physical stimulus stops the mental pain slowly subsides. Expert meditators act much less in anticipation of the pain and feel the pain more intensely while the stimulus is present. Their awareness of the pain ceases immediately as soon as the stimulus is removed.  

Interestingly enough, the emotional centre for  the brain, the Amygdala, acts in a similar fashion to the pain response. Meditators are often much better at responding in anticipation to emotional stress.

I’m someone who has always lived predominately inside their thoughts, probably leaning on the more erratic side. The thought of being able to sit in silence sorta freaked me out, not to mention seeming borderline impossible.

To understand what my mind looks like, you need to look no further than The Simpsons. Remember that scene where Homer is listening to Marge and inside his brain a monkey is clanging symbols? That’s the relationship I had with my brain almost all of the time. I believe this is the same for most of us. 

Let’s put this to the test. You, my lucky reader, can be the test subject of a little experiment on your own psyche. For the next minute, I want you to close your eyes and just do your best to focus solely on your breath. 3…2..1. GO! 

How did you go? Did you get lost in your thoughts? Did you forget entirely that you were even trying to focus at all? Where did your mind take you? Your relationship (or lack of)? Work? Or maybe even what you might have for dinner?

I found that when I first began meditating my mind would sometimes find itself distracted on the most obscure things. The reason why I am illustrating this point is because often when I speak to others who have tried meditation for the first time, I hear “I tried meditation, and it’s not for me - I just think too much”. I hate to say it, but these are the people who probably should be learning to meditate most of all. 

The way I see meditation, is similar to closing background apps on your phone. It saves battery, and it just makes your phone faster. No brainer. I believe the same is true with meditation and giving your brain a break from constantly thinking. 

A lot of the people who are reading this article will have grown up with internet access. Therefore,  you have been bombarded with external stimuli in each and every moment. Bzzz, Bzzzz, Bzzzzzzzz. I’m sure that most of you will have received a messages even whilst reading this article.

Our brains have been over stimulated and are in a constant state of overdrive. Even when we are asleep our brains are constantly thinking, even if it is in the form of dreams! Obviously that isn’t a negative on it’s own, in fact sleep is crucial for the brain. But when you add everything up it’s a lot for a brain that has only been subject to this much stimuli for around 15 years - the first iPhone only came out 13 years ago. 

As you discovered just before, learning to “not think” doesn’t happen instantly. Like you, when I first attempted to sit in silence and tried to focus on my breath it did not work. My monkey mind remained supreme. Once again I was convinced that it wasn’t for me. But like all skills, meditation takes time and discipline to both learn, and improve. 

I’m not saying this to deter you, it’s just the truth. An easy comparison might be to say that you wanted to learn how to play a musical instrument. It would be ridiculous to expect that you would be able to play your favourite song after your first time attempting to pick up the instrument. The same logic can be applied to meditation. It takes time, practice and discipline - however unlike musical instruments, you bring your mind to all situations in life. In my opinion, sharpening your ability to think is well worth the investment. According to scientific studies Mindfulness meditation induces big changes in the minds of experts, but when beginners first meditate not much happens.

At its core, the aim of meditation is to become more present in each moment by focusing and training attention and awareness. This is to achieve a mentally clear and emotionally calm and stable state. This in turn gives you the ability to have significantly more control of how you react to external and internal stimuli when they arise in your life.

In Mindfulness meditation, the goal is to act as an observer whilst focusing on your breath, watching your conscious experience as thoughts and sensations arise and disappear. 

As mentioned earlier we are often multi tasking, with tech and external stimuli, but even whilst we are not, we remain deep in thought. We are often living in the past or in the future through memory rather than in each and every moment.  

Meditation helps you learn how to not be constantly reactive to stimuli on the inside or outside. When I meditate, I find that it simply quiets my mind. It’s a simple reset of the brain allowing me to slow down and focus solely on the present. 

Another way of looking at it is that meditation is like going to the gym. You can see it as a way of working out your mind. To begin with your mind will wander, time traveling from the past to the future. But with practice you can slowly train your mind to become more present.

Being present throughout the day allows me to consciously make better decisions, rather than just remaining on autopilot. 

As hedge fund billionaire Ray Dalio puts it “When you're centred, your emotions are not hijacking you”. “Meditation is 'the single most important reason for my success.”

If you are looking to start meditation, Mindfulness meditation apps are a great way to initially learn how to meditate. I still find myself using one most days. Having tried all of them, I would recommend Sam Harris’ Waking Up app. Its thirty day training course is clear and concise and an awesome starting point to learn how to meditate. After that, new daily meditations appear on the app. Harris is a Neuroscientist and an Atheist and breaks meditation down in a way that is less spiritual which might make more sense to a western audience. 

Worried it’s going to cost too much? If you can’t afford a subscription, you can email the help section and receive a one year free subscription. No questions asked. You have no excuse not to try it! 

Other Mindfulness app alternatives are: 

- Headspace - Andy Puddicombe

- Smiling Mind (An Australian non-profit alternative)

For further learning check out these guys:

Sam Harris, Mooji, Ram Dass and Andy Puddicombe

I am by no means an expert in this field, I just wanted to share something which has improved the quality of my life by at least 10%. I hope that it works for you too! 

[pcygoldenchild]

Female Anatomy

✨summary: You never thought learning about your body would turn you on so much. You also never thought it would be your best friend who would be so educated about making you feel so good.

✨warnings: NSFW, fingering, dirty talk (kinda), cunnilingus.

It was a rather calming Saturday night. It had been gloomy and raining all day so you were relaxing in your apartment, cleaning up and just letting time pass. You were surprised when Chanyeol showed up around 5pm. It’s not that he doesn’t usually show up randomly, but he seemed off. He hadn’t really looked at you that much or cuddled with you. You two were more than close at this point and little things like that put you off. When you did talk, he seemed distracted or trying to distract himself. He’d been with you for the past 4 hours and hadn’t told you what was wrong. So you figured the only way you’d know is if you asked.

“Hey...Loey?” you nudged him as you moved over to sit with your leg crossing his. He looked down at your leg before his eyes trailed up your leg to your face. He seemed a little nervous or conflicted. You were wearing an oversized shirt and underwear but that never bothered him before. He just looked at you not giving you an actual answer.

“Chanyeol what’s going on with you? You’re being weirdly distant.” you place your hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. He always loved when you showed him skinship. He loved it but would never initiate it unless you showed him it was ok. Something you did a lot more which you hoped would give him the idea that you were more than comfortable with it.

“It’s nothing Y/N.” he whispered still nuzzling into your hand. He looked so innocent and beautiful. It was obvious he was beautiful but you got to see a different side of him. The side that was soft and shy but comfortable to tell you anything. But for some reason he wasn’t opening up. You placed your other hand on his other cheek and lifted his face to look at you.

“Loey you tell me everything. You can tell me what’s bothering you.” you say as your thumbs caress his cheeks. His eyes are scanning all over your face as if looking for a sign. You smile a little when his eyes stay on your lips for a little longer.

“I want to...to explore you.” he says looking directly in your eyes. His face seems hot and his cheeks are slightly red under the dim light.

“Explore me?” He knew everything about you. He’s seen more of you than any of your other friends. What did he mean by explore? He just nodded and closed his eyes as if feeling ashamed.

“What do you mean?” you ask as you tap his cheek to tell him to open his eyes. He bites his lip and looks you in the eyes again.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N. I know how every part of your face dips. How your body curves. I’ve studied every part of you that I could.” he confesses. Your heart is speeding up with every word.

“But I want to explore more. I want to know what all of you looks like. I want to study every part of you.” You’re skin is hot and you don’t know what to say, but you can only think of saying yes. Yes Chanyeol. Whatever he wanted to learn about your body you would let him. But your body couldn’t process what was going on in your brain. You just sat there holding his face looking into his panicked eyes.

“Y/N?” he asked while placing his hand on your thigh. He moved so slow afraid of if he just made a mistake. But you felt like he just lit a fire inside of you that you didn’t know was there before. You didn’t know why but you pulled him in to kiss him. You couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to feel his lips on yours to ease the blood rushing around your body on overdrive. He leaned into you as if wanting to feel you for so long. He pulled away and picked you up wrapping your legs around his waist. You both looked at each other not scared or unsure. You were both comfortable and willing to do anything with each other.

He placed you on the bed softly and hovered over you for a minute. He kissed you slowly making sure to learn every bit of your mouth. He pulled away again and pulled his shirt off before pulling yours off too. His eyes raked your naked chest before his gentle fingers trailed all over. Everywhere his finger went, you felt your skin burn. From your collarbone to your sensitive nipples to your belly button. He’d already seen your naked upper half before when he walked in accidentally while you were changing. But he didn’t get to explore you the way he wanted to.

He moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties. You watched him as he slipped them off you and slowly spread your legs. His eyes were dialated and his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He dipped down to lay with his face directly in front of your womanhood. He didn’t do anything, just looked at it as you lay there completely turned on. He wasn’t doing anything but the way he looked at you like he wanted to have all of you really made you dizzy.

“It’s so beautiful, like a flower. You’re constantly clenching making your swollen labia bloom like a flowers petals. Everytime you clench down on nothing you push out your precum like a flowers nectar.” He is talking to your core. One hand is laying on your stomach as the other rubs gentle circles on your thigh.

You can feel yourself clenching uncontrollably. His beautiful description of your arousal making you react in a way you never thought you would. He finally touches you. He ever so gently brings his finger to your vaginal orifice where you can feel your precum gliding down. He slowly drags his finger between your labia lips collecting your juices. His adoration of you is driving you crazy. Your gripping the bed sheets trying to stay still but his delicate fingers are making your hips slightly buck involuntarily.

“Sweet like nectar. You’re so wet and sensitive.” he says as he takes his finger into his mouth tasting you. He spreads your labia apart and pushes your clitoral hood back exposing the sensitive glan. He lightly blew on your exposed clit making you whimper and tense.

“The clitoral glan has over 8,000 sensory nerve endings. Because you’re so aroused, you’re very sensitive. A slight blow and those nerves go into action. Your pussy is so pink and pretty. A work of art.” He’s so close to your clit you feel every word he says. Your nerves are on fire. Your knuckles are white from how tight you’re gripping the sheets. You can feel your juices dripping down into the bed. He was only talking, telling you about your body that you knew all so well, but he seemed to have a different view of it. He adored it, admired how sensitive and needy you were.

He leaned in and lightly kissed directly onto your clit. You let out a loud whimper tensing your thighs again. His arms circled your thighs and prevented you from closing them. He went in again and kept his lips there while he stared in your eyes. Then he opened his mouth and slowly licked your clit. Your eyes rolled back at the stimulation as you let out a quiet chocked moan. He continued to slowly lick your clit while massaging your spread labia with his thumbs. You’d never experienced something like this. He knew so much about your womanhood and how to make the most ignored parts feel loved. He pulled away releasing your hood and letting your folds fall back into place. You let out a breath you’d been holding since he started.

Then his tongue found you again as he licked up your folds to collect the ample amounts of ‘sweet nectar’ he caused to flow from you. He placed his thumb on your clitoral hood as his other hands finger pushed slowly into your opening. His thick finger did more than yours did making you feel fuller than normal. He began to slowly rub your clit while sliding in and out of you.

“Most people think that women can have an orgasm solely from penetration. But it’s not true. Penetration causes contact with the clitoris if done right. The nerves in your clit right now are reacting to me rubbing it causing your vagina to tighten around my finger. I can feel the smooth wet texture of your walls. And if I bend my finger like this, I can feel the bumpy ridges of your g-spot. And if I add another finger like this, you tighten even more making me stretch you out.” he says as he does everything he describes while kissing your thighs in between sentences.

You’re going crazy. He’s rubbing your clit and fingering you so well you start to think he’s done this many times before. Your back arches with every curve of his finger. You let out silent whimpers every 2 seconds, too weak to use your voice. You feel your stomach coiling from his paced speed and techniques. Your vision is going blurry as you try to stare at him but your eyes constantly roll back. He’s watching you, watching your face as you silently scream, watching your boobs as they vibrate everytime you shake, watching your pussy take his fingers and how they glisten when they pull out to plunge back in.

“You look so beautiful. Y/N I want you to cum on my fingers. I need to taste your release. I can feel you cumming. You’re getting tighter. You’re vibrating around my fingers.” he says. And like his words were magic, which you were convinced they were, you cum. You cum shaking and let out a long whine as your high hits you. He presses his thumb on your clit hard and pushes his curved fingers up into you fast. He makes you squirt in his face leaving you completely breathless. He pulls his fingers out of you and gently licks up your juices from your core.

“I love knowing I can make you feel good. Make you experience an orgasm the way every woman should. Look at my fingers and how they glisten with your essence. You taste like beauty in every way.” he says as he gets up from between your legs and hovers over you. He takes his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean then licks around his lips to collect the juices you squirted on him. You were out of breath and completely astonished by the man hovering over you.

“Thank you for letting me explore you. You’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the chance to discover.” he said as he kissed you.

“Chanyeol I love you.” You don’t know why you said it, maybe it was because he made you feel loved and not like he just fingered you. His eyes showed he was truly amazed by you. No one had ever made you feel as incredible as he managed to.

“I love you too.” he said and you believed it.

(Hello doves! I hope you enjoyed this one. I’m in love with the way it turned out and I hope it “effected” you all haha. xoxo golden 🕊)

[thedracoimagines]

Changing Minds

Hey! Could you please make an imagine where Draco's friends - Goyle and Crabbe are bullying you everyday and Draco never knew but when he found out he started bullying you too because you were mudblood but then he saw you crying in the bathroom and apologized and he saw your cuts (self harm) and he told you he loves you and you were together. Btw YOU ARE AMAZING!!! I !LOVE! YOUR IMAGINES!

This one was a little tough, and I’m a little rusty, so forgive me. (Also, sorry about some of the missing stuff from this request - I’m not entirely comfortable with writing about some of this stuff, as per my own opinion it’s a tad unhealthy to romanticize it. Maybe one day I’ll be able to address these topics in a healthy way in my writing :) )

 ---

It was your last class of the day, and the one part of the day where you could actually breathe without worry. Arithmancy, while not the most stimulating of classes, was still the one class that you had without your tormentors.

You can’t remember a time when you weren’t constantly being bothered by Crabbe and Goyle. Their words that poked and prodded you in exactly the right way to make you feel wrong for even existing seemed like they had always been present. “What’s this mudblood doing dirtying our classroom, Crabbe?” Goyle had sneered in your direction this morning.

“Dunno, Goyle. Maybe we should do something about it before it ruins our school,” Crabbe had said back, shoving you in the shoulder.

You had given up protesting – it was potions, after all, and Snape had a tendency to take the Slytherin side – so you just sat there and let them use their hurtful words. You would show them, you thought. You were a witch, and no amount of fake mud in your blood would take that away from you.

Luckily, class had started before that morning’s events could escalate, but that wasn’t counting the rest of your classes. Or lunch. Or the hallways. For what reason were these pureblood idiots pestering you so insistently? Nearly driven to tears several times that day, you held strong and never let yourself believe in their sentiments that you were inferior just because of your parents.

And now you sat in Arthimancy, and you struggled over some problems but you eventually figured them out. You weren’t naturally the best at the subject by a long shot, but the fighting spirit in you was determined to prove to yourself that if you tried hard enough, you could do any Arithmancy question. It had nothing to do with your blood.

And the blonde-haired boy, who sat in the back of the room boisterously speaking to his fellow Slytherins throughout all of class, was none the wiser. For reasons unbeknownst to you, Crabbe and Goyle tended to leave you alone when Draco Malfoy was around, and so Malfoy was, to your knowledge, unaware of your existence let alone your blood status. So, you indulge yourself in a little crush. He may be a right prick, even if not to you, but he was a beautiful prick.

That’s why, as you were hurriedly rushing to finish the last Arithmancy problem after class was dismissed, you were surprised to hear him sneering in front of you. “So, the resident mudblood is having trouble with the real wizarding stuff, then? I’m not surprised that your brain is as inadequate as your blood.”

This was the breaking point. You looked up at the person standing in front of your desk. The one person who would be able to properly escalate your bullying has finally done it, and you can’t take it. Tears prick at your eyes. You liked him. You thought, maybe, he was different. That’s why it hurt so bad, and that’s why you got up and gathered your books. It’s why you shoved past the friendly Hufflepuff girl who was always happy to help you with a particularly challenging problem, and didn’t say sorry for fear that your voice might crack.

You found yourself in the second-floor bathroom, the ghost who you knew haunted the stalls nowhere in sight. Sobs shook your body, and you looked at your hands, the floor, the walls – anything to take your mind off of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Inadequate. Unable. Not good enough. Worthless. Trash. Mudblood.

It’s hard to keep these thoughts away. When talking about the history of magic in classes, learning about the etymology of the word “mudblood”, its meaning, its connotations, was easy. When you’re told in class that witches and wizards of noble blood thought for years that those who were not born to them were dirty and lesser versions of themselves, it’s easy to see as history. But when the people that are around you start calling you a mudblood, you start to associate it with what you learned in history class. And then you start to associate yourself with it, too. The worst part is that the people throwing this word around say it with such hatred, but they don’t even know the full extent of what they’re saying. They don’t know about the history of the word, and they don’t care about it. You’ve seen them – Crabbe, Goyle, even Malfoy all sitting in class barely keeping their eyes open. This is your history, but it can’t just stay history. What a bunch of pricks.

You breathed heavily over a sink, finally starting to calm yourself down. It was then that you realized that you weren’t alone.

“What are you doing crying in a bathroom for?” asked a voice filled with as much confusion as concern.

“What do you want?” you asked defensively, rubbing the tears away while turning to face the intruder. “Are you here to call me a mudblood again, or will you just outright tell me that I’m inept, Malfoy?”

The blonde looked at you with a look that you’ve never seen on him, and one that you weren’t sure how to interpret. “You are crying,” he said, as if he didn’t believe it.

“Thanks for that,” you respond dryly.

“I didn’t mean to make a girl like you cry,” he started.

You feel a sudden surge of anger. “Well what exactly did you expect, you prat? Throwing around a word like mudblood isn’t going to make me fall in love with you.”

“Love…?” He looked confused. “Y/N,” he reproached, “Crabbe and Goyle told me of your… heritage this morning. Unfortunately for them, I don’t think I can approve of their efforts to bully you in particular.”

You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you were curious to see. Perhaps… Could she be getting a proper apology, from a Malfoy no less? “And why not me, in particular, then?”

“Because it was too late,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve already grown fond of you. And try as I may to make it go away, there is nothing I can do that makes my blood boil against you. You’re not a pureblood, but for some reason I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t naturally disgusted by you-“

“Thanks,” You said sarcastically for the second time that day.

“I just mean that, I can’t hate you. I don’t know why. I do know now, though, that this means that perhaps it was not the most smart of me to call you a mudblood, so I want to apologize.”

You looked up into his eyes then – when did he get so close? – and saw something genuine in them. How had you made so much of an impact on someone that you had only seen for one class period, and for only brief, accidental caught stares? Thinking back, you seem to remember that sometimes when you would look back to catch a glimpse of his smile, it seemed like he had already been looking at you first when your eyes would accidentally meet. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking. And from his words… maybe he was different, after all.

“Please,” he said, taking you out of your train of thought. “Forgive me. I… I need you to forgive me before I say anything else.”

Curious by his faltering voice, and feeling suddenly like giving second chances to pretty boys, you met his gaze once again. “Okay,” your voice feels small and weak from crying. “I can forgive you, I think.”

Malfoy nodded. “What I was going to say was that I want to know…” his voice trailed off as you watched his eyes search your face. He swallowed. “I want to know why I’m okay with you. And I want to know how much I’m okay with. And…”

He paused, took a deep breath, eyes moving back to look into yours. “I want to know if maybe I’m okay with you, I can be okay with other who are… like you.” The uncertainty in his voice on the last two words – he wanted to say mudblood, you were certain – were outshone by his stunning admission of open-mindedness. From the stories you’ve heard, this seemed quite out of character.

“I…” you weren’t sure what to say. Here was the person who you had first had a crush on, then hated, and now… Now you weren’t sure how you felt, but he laid all of his feelings out on the line for you. You know how he feels. You have the power to strengthen his heart and open his mind to a world that, to everyone else, it seemed like he intensely hated. Maybe there was just a curious boy under the mask of this hateful man. Maybe he just needed some love to change his heart, and some friendly debate to change his mind.

Your mind was set, and you tried to hold back a smile as you crafted the perfect response – one that would lighten the mood and hopefully make the person standing in front of you feel less awkward for admitting something that was clearly difficult for him to do. “I did always have a little crush on you,” you finally admitted cheekily. “And, if I can forgive you, then maybe there’s a chance you’re telling the truth, and maybe you can love a mudblood like me.”

“I am telling the truth,” he said earnestly. Then, you felt his fingers against yours, and suddenly he was holding your hand, at first hesitantly and then with more confidence. “And maybe one day I can love you.”

You suddenly laughed. It all felt like a cheesy story about a boy and a girl who hate each other suddenly seeing each other in a new light. Except, they never really hated each other. Maybe they just misunderstood. Maybe they just liked to listen to the whispers around them a little too much. Either way, it wasn’t a story. It was you, and it was him. And you decided that the perfect ending – rather, the perfect beginning – would be to steal a quick kiss off of the boy who was maybe invading your personal space a little too soon. It was nothing serious, just a peck.

He didn’t seem to mind though, because after the initial shock, you thought you saw a hint of the smile that you liked to steal glances at in Arthimancy (Qnly this time, you got to see it up close. Yes, it was even more beautiful from three inches away). “Now, what do you think we should to do Crabbe and Goyle to teach them a little lesson about bullying my girl?”

[rebeccasbraviary]

Loud voices and quiet hearts

The food is good tonight. Fish and salad and new potatoes, a serving of green beans even though some of them are a curious pale yellow which admittedly bothers me somewhat. I sit with my friends after a long day (small children settling into a new environment with new people who aren't their parents, staff navigating the stresses of the day in different ways, the contrast of the cold mountain air outside and the too-warm inside of the hotel). They chat and laugh and I join in where I can, but I am finding it difficult to be in the middle of what probably looks like, from the outside, a normal, relatively calm, everyday staff dinner situation. The background noise from serving spoons hitting ceramic dishes, coffee machines spitting out hot water in dramatic, exasperated sighs, voices of every cadence all tumbling together like water in a rapid rushing towards the falls. I'm used to trying to tune this noise out, which is why I don't always hear you when you speak to me. It's why I retreat inside my head and listen to the music there, or chill out in that secret head-space that's all forests and mountaintops and quiet.

Tonight, it's harder to tune it out. The day has been so overstimulating that I don't have the capacity or energy left to drown anything out. My body is on high alert, and if I wasn't working this evening too, I wouldn't have stayed for dinner. I'm eating as fast and politely as possible so I can escape to the office for 10 minutes of comparative silence (and artificial light, but beggars cannot be choosers) before lots of my friends do the same thing. I'm lost in this thought process when somebody jokingly sneaks up behind me, grabs my shoulders and roars at me very close to my ears. I'm startled and so I scream, not purposefully, but the unasked-for sudden touch and even more noise in my ears feels physically painful to my nervous system. My heart is hammering something stupid and it takes me a while to calm down, whilst others are loudly shushing me because this is a public place, there are guests around, implying you don't want to give off the wrong impression.

At this point I'm done, because how I'm supposed to explain to a room full of neurotypicals that I wasn't being abrasive on purpose, that I was just overstimulated, is something I haven't yet mastered and quite frankly have little interest in doing. I finish my dinner and go up to the office to literally curl up in a corner until the start of my next shift (thankfully a quiet one, that only requires me to effectively babysit a corridor of sleeping children). After a few minutes my friends start trickling in, a presence I am thankful for in terms of comfort but I put my earphones in regardless because I can't take any more noise that isn't from a source I've chosen.

This is just one experience of many, and it's unlikely to mean anything to those who aren't highly sensitive, or who don't sometimes have difficulty processing sensory information. I don't expect other people to understand, because it is hard when you don't have that basis of personal experience to help you relate. But I do hope, perhaps selfishly, for people to try and understand that if you've very suddenly made me jump, it might not always go well and might actually look like I'm throwing a tantrum.

I don't mean that I can't enjoy pranks, I don't mean that you can't suddenly rugby tackle me to the ground with the kind of hug I sometimes need when I’ve missed you greatly, or I'm stressed and sensory energy hurdles through my veins as if it's a race. Sometimes those things are hilarious and result in my laughter probably causing even the least sensitive of us some discomfort. Sometimes I can take it, depending on how sensitive I am that day and how much stimulation I've already had. Other times however, like tonight, I absolutely can't take it and the whole (seemingly small) experience has left me feeling sorry that my audible discomfort gave the impression that I was unaware of my professional status, representing a company I deeply respect, hugely enjoy working for, and care about so much that I willingly navigate the many different forms of shift I work here, and the constantly changing nature of the job and all it encompasses.

I suppose the point of sharing this is not to make you feel like you have to tiptoe around me, but just to alert you to the fact that I am a little different (not a new statement I’m sure!) and I’m okay with that. I’m happy to accept myself as I am, in the same way I always try to accept and love others for where they're at in their lives. I think the point is just a case of awareness, as articles and blogs of this type so often are. The world is loud and there are those of us who find that very distressing on a day-to-day, hour-to-hour, minute-to-minute basis. If I, for example, show up at a party or celebration you’ve kindly invited me to, it is not because I want to be at a busy social gathering. It is because I love you very much and have decided that today I can cope with all the potential and likely attacks on my senses to celebrate you and to help give you the kind of fun and enjoyment you so deserve. If I write you notes and draw you pictures and send you things through the post and over text instead of telling you I love you, it’s because those ways of communication are much less severe on my senses than talking out loud (as much as I enjoy that, sometimes, too). There’s so much more to hypersensitivity and sensory processing than this, but it’s a start, and I’m thankful you’ve taken the time to read this if you have. Thank you for trying to understand my very differently-wired brain and for being patient as I navigate all the implications that has on my life and my surroundings.

[freshwoods]

I’m just going through something and I need to get it out, so sorry in advance.

I’m not sure many of you know, since it’s not really something I talk about very much, but I have unilateral deafness, which essentially means I’m deaf in one ear. I don’t talk a lot about my disability because I grew up kind of not even realizing it was a disability--it was a non-issue a lot like my oldest brother’s learning disability. It happened when I was 10 due to a kind of birth defect (long story) and it was just a part of me I had to live with. But the way I lost my hearing was a little traumatizing and ever since I’m very, very particular about my ears and do everything possible to avoid potential damage because my very, very biggest and worst fear since then--for the last 18 years--has been going completely deaf. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being deaf and I’m a lot more comfortable with ASL and the Deaf community than I used to be, but growing up, I didn’t know that was a thing). Like, I have to sleep with some kind of sound because I’m terrified of waking up in the middle of the night to silence. It gives me panic attacks. Even just thinking about it right now makes my heart race because of the simple, debilitating fear.

So about 5 years ago, it was suggested that I see about getting a hearing aid. Now, I’m not sure a lot of people know this unless you’re hard of hearing, but there are three different kinds of hearing damage--outer, middle, and inner ear damage. Traditional hearing aids combat outer ear hearing damage by amplifying sound, which reverberates off your eardrum and vibrates into your inner ear (or auditory nerve). Those kind of hearing aids do not work for me because I have both outer and middle ear damage. So, the solution was for a bone anchored hearing aid to be implanted behind my ear into my skull--and how this one works is that i have a detachable hearing device that snaps into a titanium screw that is attached to the implant in my skull. The device transmits the sound via vibrations through my skull directly to my auditory nerve where it gets stimulated, bypassing the ear entirely. Which works well in theory, and worked okay for me for a little while--after the nearly 2 months of migraines while my brain re-learned how to hear and the almost constant feedback I got from where I was working at the time (you know, like when someone holds a mic too close to a speaker, but it’s in your head. which is fun). Unluckily for me, I had a slew of side-effects from the implant--vertigo which causes me chronic nausea and motion sickness, an increase in my tinnitus, scar tissue swelling that now makes it impossible to wear said hearing device, and a lot--a lot--of pain. 

So today I finally went to my ENT (it’s been hard to find time with the whole grad school + 3 jobs thing the last few months), and first of all, I need surgery. Again. Which is awesome, but nothing I didn’t expect. Although if this doesn’t work than there’s literally no other kind of hearing aid or device that will work for me so it’s my last shot. And second, let me just outline for you what it’s like to live every day with the constant fear that this might be the last day I can hear someone’s voice, or listen to my favorite songs, or hear the birds chirping outside. Let me tell you what it’s like to step into the little soundproof box and have noise-canceling headphones places over my ears while I try to crush down the panic that complete silence evokes in me. And how the fading of the beeps as they measure my hearing levels feels like me losing my hearing all over again. And they do it again and again, and each time it feels the same, and each time I know that what hearing I have left is getting worse. And it is. This set of results shows both ears have gotten worse. I expect it of my bad ear because I’ve been profoundly deaf in that one for a while now, but now there are areas where I have 100% hearing loss--which is just. I don’t even want to talk about that. But for my good ear, it used to be at 0% loss across the board and now I have areas that are already as low high as 20% loss--not far from bordering on mild hearing loss (if you want to know the different kinds of hearing loss, I can explain it later). 

So, you know, it’s fine. It’s just like coming to terms with your mortality or something. But for me it’s knowing that i will probably be to the point i need a hearing aid for my good ear in 20ish years, and maybe i’ll be completely deaf by the time i’m in my last 50s or so. It’s walking around every day with this disability bomb inside of me. It’s trying to not let the fear drive and pretend everything is okay, or like i don’t even pay any mind to my disability. But it’s something i’m never not aware of. Especially when I have to constantly out my disability to people again and again when i ask them to repeat themselves, or I remind them i’m hard of hearing, or I have to sit certain places just to try to be part of a conversation that I’ll probably miss most of anyway. It’s learning to read lips and feel vibrations instead of hearing words. It’s laughing off people saying “oh yeah, i forgot you’re deaf,” or when I switch what side of them i’m walking on “oh sorry, I forgot which ear it was.” I try not to let it bother me. I try to shrug it off because all of this is so far out of my control that there’s no use dwelling on it.

But the reality is that right now I’m scared. I’m terrified. And it feels hopeless.

[pjstafford]

The Compartments

The compartments

Written for #XFSummer2019  for Geraldine@Minuete

Prompt:  “Dynamic Duo takes a forced vacation“

 Chapter 1

After the Season five ending ; before Fight The Future

The first time Mulder and Scully were off the X-Files, they had been separated as partners.  Mulder was afraid for their safety and their meetings were in secret. They hadn’t been partners long before this forced separation.  Scully was surprised how much she missed Mulder.  There were physical symptoms of pain, of loss, of separation.  She found herself waking up at night and looking at the phone that didn’t ring.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and Scully missed Mulder.  When the X-Files has been reopened, both Scully and Mulder were excited to begin the work again with one another.  There was no question as to where Scully belonged.  

This time with the fire in the office and the closing of the X-Files, they are not separated as partners.  For the first time they are partners doing the type of menial work that a majority of FBI agents do for some of their career. Mulder had been a golden boy, though, and never had to do any of the grunt work.  Scully had avoided the grunt work because she was a medical doctor. At one time both had been deemed too valuable to the bureau to engage in newbie work.  However, they are no longer valuable commodities to the bureau.  

A Mulder without meaningful work can be an unpleasant partner. Boredom in general he does not suffer well.  He struggles with what to do with his over active brain which fires on more cylinders than most people.  He chews more sunflowers seeds, constantly fiddles with the radio while he drives, sleep even less than usual simply because he has no mental stimulation. Beyond this is the fact that the assignments are intentionally meaningless as a punishment which causes him to react like a petulant little boy. He might be known for his intellect but he is driven by emotional impulses.  What Scully finds infuriating is that he does not seemed to grasp the simple concept that if you were being punished for violating the rules you should not violate more rules.  With all the connections from point A to B to C that his brilliant mind makes, understanding the quid pro quo of breaking the rules = punishment and conforming to the rules meant the punishment would be lifted is something you think a man of his intellect could understand.  

Scully is fed up!  She left behind a medical career for what?  She is being punished as well as Mulder.  If her father were alive he would be so ashamed of her.  As much as Mulder blames himself for things he was not responsible for like Scully being abducted, her sister being shot, her cancer, he is oblivious to how his career choices impact her career.  

On long drives doing monotonous work, they make snarky comments to each other and, then, nod to each other as they go into their separate hotel rooms.  They wake the next morning and go through it all again.  

On the other hand, now and then, when a good radio station is available and the wind isn’t blowing and they are working in a civilized location with decent food, they laugh together about how different things are now.  The work they are doing is meaningless.  It is not stressful.  It is not dangerous.  It does not require long hours.  When Scully can engage Mulder enough so he lets go of his anger and his boredom, then they can enjoy each other’s company in a way that didn’t seem possible when assigned to the X-Files.  After all, they aren’t disagreeing over cases.  Do you think that farmer with all that fertilizer is a terrorist Mulder? No, neither do I… case closed.  In this sense they are getting along better than ever.  

Scully is reminded of long family vacations when she spent too much time in a confined car with her brothers and her sister. Only this isn’t a vacation and there is no end in sight.  

One day Scully suggests they read the same books so they will have something to talk about during their long drives.  Mulder sighs and says quietly “So, it has come to that, has it?”  

That night in a small town bookstore Scully buys them each a copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  The next two days in between long drives to do background checks they have heated conversations.   “Mulder…” Scully says incredulously and Mulder smiles, “I haven’t heard that tone when you say my name in a while.”  Scully mentally congratulates herself on finding such a simple solution to having X-files like arguments and returning the equilibrium, the routine, of their relationship.  

She congratulated herself too soon.  A day later and Mulder is back to his petulant little boy act.  She starts to talk about how vampires cannot be real.  Mulder silently pulls the car over in nowhere Texas and gets out.  When he returns from peeing she is out of the car and looking at a cow in a field nearby.  He simply nods at her and gets back in the car.  They drive silently for forty miles.  Scully approaches the subject again.  Mulder holds up his hand.  “Why does it matter?  The truth may be out there about vampires, but we are not going to find it.  Onto the next farmer.”

The days’ work over, they return to their hotel room early, nod to each other and enter their room  without speaking.  Two hours later Mulder knocks on her door.  He is dressed in his running clothes.  He hands her a book.  “To Kill a Mockingbird.  It’s one of your favorites, isn’t it?”  Scully smiles and nods.  “Let’s try this one.”  

A pleasant week later they have talked the book to death. With flights booked to DC the next day, are spending the night in Dallas.  They see the theater marquee at the same time: A classic movie house showing the classic movie made out of the book.  

After a pleasant evening, they are walking back from the theater when Mulder stops and faces Scully.  

“Scully, maybe we are making this more difficult than it needs to be.”  When Scully raises her eyebrows quizzically, Mulder say “I feel like you are looking for ways to entertain me. “

Scully is hurt that he is pouring rain down upon their pleasant evening.  

“I know you are bored, Mulder and angry and discouraged. “

“So are you.  “

“I handle it better.”

“Not all the time, you don’t, and we are with each other all the time.  We’re both miserable and stuck with each other and driving each other miserable.  Any two people would drive one another crazy. We’re getting on each other’s nerves.”

“That’s why I thought if we read books and talked to each other about the books.”

“You trying to entertain me Scully is really annoying.” Before Scully could respond Mulder stopped her.  “No, I’m not doing this well.  I mean…This has been fun tonight.   Why don’t we just… you know… why don’t we just…become friends.”

Scully gives him one of her fierce looks.   “Are you saying we’re not friends? ”

“Of course, we’re friends but, you know, we have some time now to go to the movies together, to museums, to book stores. Why don’t you come running with me occasionally?  You know. Don’t’ try to give us something to talk about.  We have all kinds of shared interests,.  Let’s just relax and do things.”

“You think the answer to us being stuck together all the time is to spend more time together?”  Scully gives him a look like he just told her the hotel they are staying at is haunted.  

“I think no matter what we do we are going to annoy each other like crazy until we are over our punishment, if that ever happens or until one of us quits, but maybe we will both handle it better and it won’t bother us so much if we just, you know, hang out and enjoyed each other during all the time we currently have where we’re not really doing much in the way of work. I miss enjoying your company.  I’m spending all my time with you and missing you at the same time.”

Scully thinks, biting her lip, and says “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”  After a long enough break to see Mulder’s face drop she says, “I want to try it.”

“Really?” Mulder asks as if she just told him she believed in ghosts.  

“Yes, Really!”  

They resumed walking to the hotel with smiles on their faces.  

 Chapter 2

Season 6 post Two Fathers/ One Son

The last thing Mulder expected following all they had been through was for Spender to suggest Mulder and Scully should return to the X-files and for Scully to tell him privately after that meeting that she was thinking of asking for reassignment.  

“What?  We are back on The X-Files.  The punishment is over.  We can go back to…”

“To what, Mulder?  I’m not the one you want on the X-Files.  You want Diana.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“She’s the one you trusts.  She is the one you turned to.”

“How many times do I have to tell you….”

“It’s absurd, Mulder.  I gave up a medical career and an up and coming FBI career and the men who abducted me are gone.  They are burned.  And whatever else you want to accomplish would be better with a believer.”

“I meant everything I said in the hallway the last time you wanted to walk away.  You kept me honest. “

“But a lot has happened since then.”  She says, but thinks to herself that a lot has not happened. The kiss that almost happened in that hallway was never discussed between them.  During the time of their punishment, after they had decided to spend more of their time enjoying each other company, they finally got to know each other on a whole different level.  They had shared stories, tears, silliness, boredom and existed as two friends. They had become even flirtatious with each other.  But any thought that it would be more ended when instead of believing what she and the lone gunmen told him about Diana, he had went to Diana.  She was done competing.  She was done waiting for something that would never happen.  

“It’s a new start, Mulder.  It’s a new start for you at the X-Files.  It’s a good time for me to go.”  

 The next day on a Friday they are sitting in Skinner’s office.  

He is reviewing their personnel files from the time when he had not supervised them.  

“Well, agents.  I know it sounds mundane, but Mulder hasn’t taken vacation since the last vacation I forced him to take one over a year ago.  You cannot keep accumulating time and not using it.  It’s against bureau policy.  Why didn’t you take time off during the last year?  You hated the work you were doing.”  

“I just… I don’t know, sir”  Mulder doesn’t want to tell Skinner in front of Scully that the only thing he had left in his life,after being removed from the X-Files, was Scully and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being close to her even when they are bickering.  

“Well, next week off Mulder that’s an order.”

“Sir…”  

Skinner’s look shut Mulder down.  Skinner turns his attention to Scully.  “Can you get the office up and running, the transfer of cases completed while he is on vacation.”  

Mulder shuts his eyes expecting that now Scully would turn in her request for transfer.

“Actually, sir, I was going to request a week’s vacation as well.  I know I don’t have as much accrued as Mulder, but we have been through a lot lately. I feel if I took a vacation I could come back more refresh.”  

Skinner nods.  “Ok, agents take off next week.  We will see you the following Monday.  ”

They walk into the hall, slowly down the hallway without talking and enter an empty elevator.  Mulder is afraid to talk.  He is afraid to say anything.  Why had she changed her mind?

“Well, Mulder, where are we going on vacation?”

He looks at her.  Her eyes are sparkling the way they did doing their more leisure time over the last few months.  

“Where ever you want, Scully.”  

  Chapter 3  

Mulder is doing his petulant little boy act again.

“Staycation, Scully?  I just don’t think… I mean, I will just end up being anxious knowing I’m so close to the office and that so much needs to be done to set it up.”

“No, Mulder, we are going to enjoy ourselves doing all the things that tourists do in DC… and we are going to watch movies, read books, and cook together.”

“We can’t be together all the time, Scully.  You will end up at your place and me at mine.  I thought you wanted to spend it together.”

That is the thing that is really bothering Mulder. Vacation with Scully sounds wonderful- wherever- somewhere tropical, somewhere in the woods, somewhere in the city, wherever – but together, in hotel rooms next to each other where they would see each other first thing in the morning and end the night being the last person they talked to.  A staycation meant – what?  Making[PS1]  plans to go to a museum one day – see you at 9 at the Smithsonian – saying goodbye after an early dinner, maybe the next day not seeing each other and getting together in the evening for a movie.  A staycation meant long stretches of time with no Scully and no reason not to go into work to start organizing the office.

“Mulder, we are spending our vacation together.  It’s the reason I took vacation as the same time as your vacation.  We will split our time between our two places.  You have a bed now, right – so I will sleep on the couch at your place and you will sleep on the couch at mine.  We will get up when we want and go to bed when we want and I will give you a treat and clean your place and I will let you get mine all dirty.”  Scully is all smiles and hasn’t said a word about why she decided not to ask for a transfer.  

“That sounds amazing, Scully, but I will sleep on the couch both places.”  

Chapter 4:  

They decide that with the week off and two week-ends they would spend 7 days together.  They would take Saturday away from one another to prepare for vacation.  Then, starting Sunday morning they would spend 3 and a half days at Mulders and then Wednesday at noon 3 and a half days at Scully ending Saturday night whenever they had just had enough of each other. Then they would each have a Sunday to prepare to return to their reassignment to the X-files.

Scully spends the Saturday before their staycation organizing.  She packs for Mulder’s.  She cleans her gun.  She calls her mom.  She went and got a manicure.  She does laundry.

Mulder, annoyed that Scully thought one of their days should be spent cleaning his apartment, cleans, shops for groceries and for new sheets for his new bed.

7 a.m. on Sunday morning Scully arrives at Mulder’s apartment with two suitcases and a back pack.  Mulder helps her carry the items into his bedroom.  “Scully it’s more than you take when we leave town for work.”  “I wasn’t quite sure what we would be doing so…” her voice trails off and Mulder realizes she is standing in the living room looking around.  

He comes out of the bedroom with a smile.  Scully looks at him and nods.  His place is acceptable in her eyes.  

“Come in, Scully, welcome to Fox’s Bed and Breakfast.”  

Scully enters Mulder’s room.  The bed had pink sheets and a pink comforter with pink pillows and a note on the bed that says “Welcome, Katherine Dana Scully.”  There is a pink robe: a little larger than Scully typically uses and pink slippers with white roses on them.  There are pink towels and soaps and lotions, shampoo and conditioners of different fragrances and a candle waiting beside the door to the restroom.  “I know it’s a lot of pink, Scully, but I wanted to make it clear for the next 3 and a half days that this is your domain.  It’s your room at the Fox’s bed and breakfast.”  

Scully smiles at him.  “Mulder, you didn’t have to do all this.”  

They are silent for a few minutes as Mulder watches Scully smell the lotions and walk around the room.  “It’s time for breakfast now, Scully.”   She realizes now she smells coffee.  “Don’t worry.  I didn’t cook, but I went to the bakery you like by your place and bought some muffins.”  He stops awkwardly.  Is he trying too hard?  

“Mulder, I want to spend today doing whatever you normally do on Sunday.”  Scully says as she finishes cleaning the few dishes from breakfast.  

“I don’t think it’s really activities you would enjoy.”

“I’m just curious, Mulder – a normal Sunday in your life.”

Mulder shrugs.  He looks at the clock.  It was 8:30 a.m.  “So by now I would have gone for a run.  Stopped somewhere for coffee and donuts on the way back.”

“Ok, and then…”

Mulder looks embarrassed.  “I generally spends Sunday morning watching news programs, reading the Sunday newspapers, going through some stacks of books I’ve been reading. Sometimes that’s how I know about a case to present to you when we come into the office on Monday.”  

Scully thinks to herself that his world could be very small, but nods and says, “I brought some medical journals in case we had some down time.”

And that’s how the first morning goes, two agents doing separate work together.  Scully occasionally reads something to him from a medical book that seem pertinent to a case they had in the past, but she spends lot of time discretely observing Mulder. He gets intensely interested in something on the news and then reads the box scores from last night’s games.  He goes to a stack of books and pulls one out and turns to the end.  It  is a Native American creation story book.  She looks at the titles of the other books in the stack- a book examining ancient Christian texts, a book of Egyptian legends, a biography of Malcolm X.  She realizes his world is actually very large and expansive.  

About noon Mulder says, “Ok, Scully it’s time to go out.” “Out?”  “Out.  You are dressed ok, but if you brought gym clothes and a swimming suit you should bring them. “

In a few minutes they are ready to go “out.”  In what seemed like a meandering way, Mulder ends up at a park with a pick- up basketball game. “So, Scully, it may be boring for you.”

“Go ahead Mulder.”  After a few minutes she overhears one of the guys say “Oh, stop peacocking for your lady.”  

Then an hour later he is back beside her.  “Are you ready to move on, Scully?”

Next thing she knows they have walked to the Lincoln Monument.  “I come here every Sunday, Scully.  Either in the morning for my run or during my afternoon out if I ran somewhere else in the morning like down to Georgetown.”

“You come to see Lincoln every Sunday, Mulder?”

“Of course,” he says and then walks with her down the stairs. “Then, I walk the national mall.  There is always something, Scully, a drum circle or a kite flying contest. We live in a fascinating town.” As they walk around the national mall, Scully smiles.  “These are touristy things I never do Mulder, but it’s your every Sunday.”  They walk for about an hour, stopping now and then, outside the white house or to see a child playing with his parents.  Then suddenly they are at the FBI gym.  “I do about an hour of weights lifting and then an hour of swimming. “  

Scully was exhausted despite her own physical stamina. “And you do this after running in the morning, and then basketball, and then a walk through the national mall park?” “Well, its Sunday, Scully,” Mulder says as if that explained it.  So she rows on a rowing machine while Mulder works out and then they swim laps with her trying not to look at Mulder in his speedos.  

On the way walking home, Mulder stops at a library. His back pack is full of the books from that morning.  He checks them in and Scully sits and reads a magazine until he returns with five more books of different topics.  

They are back to the apartment early evening and Mulder says “order in pizza and watch a movie or something.”  Scully agrees. Mulder puts on some documentary about something.  Scully sits beside him and gradually starts to nod to sleep. He puts up his arm and she slips in closer with her head on his shoulder.  

“Today was better with you sharing it with me, Scully.” She smiles.  It was a successful first day of vacation.  She will be in bed shortly with a pink everything all around her in Mulder’s room that he has set up just for her.  

Chapter 5

On Monday morning Scully wakes briefly when she hears the front door opens and close.  She notices the clock on Mulder’s bed stand says 6 a.m.  She wakes fully about 7:30.  She stretches.  Truthfully, there is too much pink in this room for her.  She is a bit unnerved by the mirror above the bed.  And when did Mulder get a water bed?  

She realizes Mulder is standing by the door in his running shorts and holding two cups of coffee.  She wonders how long he has been standing there.  He notices her noticing him looking at her.  

“Coffee in bed, Scully, at Fox’s Bed and Breakfast.” He brings it to her.

“Mulder, have you already been out for a run?”  

“It’s a vacation, Scully,” he says as if that explains it.  

“Why don’t we take the train into New York?  If we leave by 10 we can be there for a late lunch, go to a museum or something.  It will feel more like a vacation.  Do you mind if I take the first shower?”

Scully sipped from her coffee while Mulder is in the shower.  A day in New York City.  She is enjoying her vacation so far.  

Chapter 6

Mulder turns, runs backwards for a short while, slowing down considerably.  Scully sweats from her upper lips when she is truly tired.  He enjoys seeing this and watching her stride, her athleticism, her determination.  

“Little legs can’t keep up?”  

As she tries to come up with a retort, he falls backwards over a bush.  She passes him and runs up ahead.  He catches up.  

“Do you know where we are going?”

“Going? I thought we were just running?”  

He turns down a familiar street.  “The Lone Gunmen are expecting us for huevos rancheros.”

 It is the last evening at Mulder’s home.  They had breakfast and stayed at the lone gunmen until early afternoon.  The conspiracy theorists are excited about Mulder’s return to the X-files.  The conversation alternates between outlandish theories, casual teasing and serious discussion about government conspiracies and the need to protect the public.  

“What are you looking forward to the most about returning to the X-files, Dana?”  Byers asks Scully.

Scully and Mulder exchange a glance, the room stills, the lone gunmen look at one another realizing the question had raised some unexpected tension.  

“Conferring with you guys” Scully says to cut the tension and the male dominated conversation resumes.

These guys are now Scully’s friends as well.  They helped her, took her side with providing information about Diana.  She is comfortable with them.  Nevertheless this interactions injects the X-files into the middle of their vacation and reminds both agents of their different reactions to the return to the X-Files. With the lone gunmen, Mulder is boisterous about his triumphant return.  He is in the midst of friends who are excited that he is getting to return to the work he loves.  She should be able to give him that as well.  She is his friend and partner sharing this return with him, but the thought fills her heart with dread instead of happiness.  

They run back to Mulder’s neighborhood, stopping to rent movies and to buy sandwiches, chips and beers.  

Sitting in front of the television that night, their feet on his coffee table, he brings up the subject that they have been avoiding. “Why did you decide to join me on a forced vacation, Scully?  I was expected you to ask for a transfer instead?”

“I still might, Mulder.  I can ask when we return or in a week or two.  See how it goes.”

Mulder remains quiet as he thinks about the impermanence of their partnership as she is describing it.  

“Do you ever think about how much our friendship and partnership has changed over the years, Mulder?”

“Isn’t that true of every friendship and partnership?”

“When we return to the X-files, Mulder, I will miss us just hanging out and being friends the way we have without being on the X-files.”

“We won’t still do this, Scully?”

“Not in the same way.  The work will be all consuming.  It will invade every aspect of our life.  It will take over our leisure and spare time.”

“It’s my life, Scully.  It has been since long before I know you.  But it doesn’t have to be everything to you.  Stay with me on the X-Files and I will give you space, Scully, to be away from it and me when you need to me.  Just stay with me, please.”

Scully realizes that in Mulder’s way he is being generous although he misunderstands her concerns.  She doesn’t want time away from Mulder and the X-files.  She wants time away from the X-Files with Mulder.  

“I will do my best to give you the space you need away from the X-files and me, if you will stay as my partner.”  Mulder repeats softly again.  He is heartbroken over the thought that she might in a week or two or more request a transfer.  In his mind he is meeting her half-way.  

“Ok, Mulder.  I won’t ask for a transfer for a while.  We will see how it goes.”

Chapter 7

Scully is slow to wake up in the morning.  She is sad to be leaving her pink space at Fox’s Bed and Breakfast.  Mulder waits patiently and then goes into her room and begins to pack.  He is boisterous and excited.  Instead of a petulant little boy he is an ever stimulated little boy.  

It has been a vacation, Scully thinks, as she drives him to her apartment.  She is experiencing that sadness at it being over and yet that relief at returning home, but she wishes she had thought over this transfer of locations better. Mulder and her arriving together is a little different than Mulder coming over to her place when she is already there.  There is an awkwardness after last night conversation.  Mulder for his part feels almost a sort of reference for the fact that he is going to spend multiple nights at Scully’s.  He is relieved after last night’s conversation that Scully is not going to ask for an immediate transfer.  He feels in a way as if he should offer to carry her over the threshold.

Yet they don’t know what to do with each other at Scully’s apartment.  She unpacks. She has made no welcoming arrangements for Mulder.  She should have bought him sports oriented towels or something, she thinks.  She didn’t even buy any of his favorite snacks.

Mulder flips through the channel, picks up magazines. He feels trapped in her apartment. He is afraid to get anything dirty. He doesn’t know where to spread out his belongings.  He is an invader in her space.  He suggests that they go out for dinner.  They each take turns changing clothes.  They eat Italian and drink a little too much wine.  When they come back to Scully’s it gives them an excuse to admit that they are tired and call it an early night.  As Mulder prepares the couch, Scully turns at her door to look at him. He looks at her and nods.  She enters her bedroom without saying a word.

Chapter 8

Scully hears the front door opens and close at 6:30 a.m. Mulder going for his run.  She can breathe for a minute without Mulder in her place.  He just seems so big, she thinks.  Big in his beliefs, big in his intensity, big in his body and big in her space.  His apartment is smaller than yours, she reminds herself, but the switch in locations have certainly changed the dynamics.

In the living room she notices he has folded the sheets and blankets, neatly packed his belongs back up in the small overnight bag he brought.  There actually are only little signs that he is inhabiting the same space as hers. The coffee is made and there is a note saying that he will bring back breakfast.

When he returns she is showered and fully dressed. There is no need for the type of causal intimacy they had at Mulder’s.  He comes in with ingredients to make smoothies which are quickly made, quickly consumed, quickly cleaned up.  

“What would a typical day off look like for you, Scully?”

“Well, I spend the day cleaning.”

Mulder looks around the apartment incredulously. “Your place is spotless.”  

“Well, I cleaned it on the last day I was here knowing you would be coming.”

Mulder shakes his head.  “So, is there any cleaning left to do?”

“Always, Mulder.  There are always cleaning projects I haven’t yet gotten to.”

“How can I help?”

She shakes her head.  “You don’t have to…”

“Scully, “ he says in an exasperated tone.  “We did my normal things on your first day at my place. Let me in your world a little.”

“Well,”  Scully is embarrassed to ask.  “There are some things I have trouble doing because I am short.  If you could help me organize my cabinets a little because you can reach up and take things down and put some things back up.”

So they spend the day organizing Scully’s closets. What Mulder learns about Scully is how important it is to her that she has various plastic and wooden containers so that her winter sweater and summer shorts never come into contact.  Her good china and her party paper plates left over from some holiday or another would never know each other existed.  

Later that afternoon with pizza order in they were organizing her most recent pictures into her various picture boxes, family pictures into one box (she slapped his hand when he tried to look at pictures of little Scully), friend pictures into another, landscape pictures – so many taken recently – into a third box.  She answers the door when the pizza comes and he is left with only a few more pics quickly organized except for some pictures of them together.  They are field file pictures mostly.  Apparently she has a standing request for all pictures taken of either of them in field investigations to be sent to her.  He looks at the boxes- family, friends, landscapes.  Where do the pics of him belong?  She brings the pizza back and sees his dilemma.  She goes to her room and returns with a smaller box which says Mulder. He didn’t know whether to flattered he has his own box or insulted that he was such an anomaly he didn’t fit into any of her other boxes.  Anyway, they are mostly work pictures he thinks and makes mental note to ask the lone gunmen to take some pics of Scully and him the next time they are just hanging out.  

 Chapter 9

“Did your mom like  baking, Fox?”  

Breakfast at Margaret Scully’s was a prelude to baking. Cookies, banana breads, coffee cakes. Fox Mulder has a girly apron on and was holding a rolling pin.

“My mother really wasn’t the baking type.”

“Dana always used to avoid the kitchen during baking day if she could.”

Mulder makes a face at Scully.  

“She always was more interested in playing with the boys or, later on, some science experiment.”

“Your boys didn’t bake with you?”

Mrs. Scully and Mulder smiled at the thought of Bill Jr. baking.  

“Why did you start baking with your mother, Scully?”

“I overheard a conversation between my mom and a friends of hers about how much baking power to put into biscuits to get them the perfect fluffiness and I realized that everything we baked was in fact a chemistry experiment.”

“Experiments you can eat” Mulder stole a cookie from where they were cooling.  

Scully knew her mother liked Mulder.  She hadn’t realized how normal it would feel for Mulder to be in her mother’s kitchen.  When Margaret Scully asked him to get something from the top shelf he had joked, “You Scully women just keep me around to be tall for you.”  Somehow he doesn’t seem too big for her mother’s kitchen.  She watches her mother give Mulder guidance on how exactly to roll the dough.  

Chapter 10

“So I know what’s next Scully.”  

They are at her home on a Friday night with treats for tomorrow breakfasts and treats for Mulders to take when he returns to his apartment tomorrow afternoon.  

“What’s next, Mulder?”

“Well, it s Friday night.  I know your routine.  You come home from an exhausting week with your partner and you soak in a long, hot bubble bath.  So since we’re doing everything together this week…?”  He looks at her with a special smile “Shouldn’t I draw our bath water?”

“You’ve had too much sugar today, Mulder.  It’s making you delusional.”

He pretends to pout.  Then he says, “Ok but look what your mother gave me.” He pulls out of a bag a particularly nice bottle of red wine.  

Chapter 11

Scully hears the front door open and close at 6:30 in the morning.  Mulder going out for his run.  She opens her eyes reluctantly.  She is a little hung over from the wine last night.  She puts on her robe and comes out into the living room.  Mulder has not folded up his blankets or his sheets and his overnight back is open with some of his clothing on the ground.  She guesses the honeymoon is over. Their wine glasses are still on the counter unwashed.  Mulder must have gotten hungry in the middle of the night because there are cookie crumbs on the counter.  She sighs in exasperation and cleans up the crumbs before making coffee.  

Mulder comes in as she is folding his blankets and sheets. He takes off his sun glasses.  He does not seem to have the same focus as he typically does after the run.  

“I found it a little hard to get up and go running this morning, Scully.”  

“I’m surprised you did.”  

She had been expecting him to bring back something for breakfast, but seeing his hands empty she opens the fridge and brings out eggs and milk.

“Scully, we have cinnamon buns we made yesterday.”

“Our lives just can’t be sugar, Mulder.”  She snaps at him.

“Oh, if only it could be though.” Mulder says quietly and goes to the cabinet to pull down plates.  

They eat breakfast and clean up in silence. Mulder says “Well, we said we will be done with our staycation today when we are tired of each other.  Should I just go now?”

“Are you tired of me, Mulder?”

Before he could answer, the phone starts to ring. They are both startled.  Their staycation have been remarkably ring free on either their cell phones or home phones.  Scully answers the phones, sighs exasperatedly, and says “Just a minute.” She hands the phone to Mulder.  “Does she have to call here?”

Mulder takes the phone.  “Diana?  Yes, tomorrow.  We can meet at the office about noon.”  

Mulder hangs up the phone, turns and looks at Scully. “She just couldn’t reach me at my home, Scully.  We are meeting to do a cross over since she has been working on the X-Files.  You are welcome to join us, but I didn’t think you would  want to join us.”

Scully shakes her head.  He purses her lips and tightens her jaws.  She opens her mouths to speak.

“We are still on staycation, Scully.” Mulder stops her.

“The problem with vacation is that eventually you have to go back to real life.”

“I wish you were as happy to be back on the X-files on Monday as I am.”  Mulder says.

Scully goes into her room and slams the door.  

 Chapter 12

After a long bath and a couple of hours of trying to read, Scully gives up on thinking that Mulder will have the grace to pack up and leave quietly.  He watches some sporting event on television louder than she thinks he needs to and is now making himself at home in her kitchen.  When the smell from the kitchen reaches her to remind her it has been hours since breakfast, she walks out.  

“You’re cooking?” She asks.  

“I’ve done cooked.”  She notices the table is set and candles are lit.  There is a knock on the door.  

“I ordered a few things.”

Mulder pays the delivery driver.  Her returns with a box and a bouquet of flowers.  “Would you find a vase?” Scully takes the flowers. What is it about flowers that makes them such good peacemakers?  Mulder unpacks a bottle of white wine, some French bread, cheeses, olives.  

“Mushroom soup is one of the few things I can make, Scully, so I got some things to go with it and some cannoli’s for dessert. “

“You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”  

“It’s our last meal of vacation, Scully, and I want it to end on a good note.  We’ve had some fun, haven’t we?”

Scully thinks over the week and smiles.  She nods.  

The meal over, Mulder takes the dishes to the sink and rinses them.  He returns, pours the last of the wine into the glasses and sits back down at the table.

“When Diana and I were partners together and romantically involved, it was easy.  It fit. She believed in the work.  She was ok with my life style. It was similar to hers. The work and the life bled into one another.  When she left I was sad, but not devastated.  I could easily let her back into my life, but it would just be satisfying basic needs.”

Scully starts to speak – “Let me finish, Scully.”

“You walk into the basement office and you didn’t fit into the work.  You didn’t believe.  You tested my assumptions.  You made the work better.  I trusted the results of our investigations more because you were involved.  The work evolved because I had someone with your expertise and knowledge in the partnership.  And you tested me.  You challenged me.  There should be no doubt in your mind that you are the one I want as my partner, in the X – files.  You, Scully.”

“I told you I wouldn’t request a transfer.  We will see how it goes.”

“My work bleeds into my life, Scully.  It always will.  I understand that this is not how you live your life.  You compartmentalize your life.  I can try to respect that.  I will try to respect that.  I told you that already.”

Scully nods.   “It’s not that I don’t want to be back on the X-Files.  Your life work, Mulder… it’s like discovering that baking is science. I enjoy the work.”

Mulder asks.  “So, we are good?”

Scully nods.  “Yes, Mulder, we are good.”  

Mulder goes to pick up his overnight bag.  He bends to kiss her on the cheek.  “Thanks for a great vacation,” he whispers.  Then he says “I will see you Monday.”

The vacation ends.  Scully finishes her wine with a great sense of sadness.  It didn’t take much self-reflection to see the problem. She spent the time in medical school, but selected a career in law enforcement.  She does love the work on the X-Files.  It is fascinating, but none of them -medicine, law enforcement or science consumed her completely as Mulder’s work did for him.  .  She is intrigued by Mulder’s life.  A life that includes morning runs, seeing Lincoln’s memorial as a ritual every Sunday. It’s a life she might enjoy.  She, also, knows that he had invited her in, created a space for her in his life and because of that she fits.  He didn’t fit in her life, but she hadn’t really created a space for him or welcomed him in.  This part of her that needed this compartmentalized life with no bleed over is the part of her that keeps Mulder distant- in his place in her life.  She remembers the first time when the X-Files was closed and how much she missed Mulder as her work partner.  Her she is now with the X-Files being open again and she is lonely again for the leisure time Mulder she needs to give up to keep her work and her life in their proper compartments.  

  [PS1]

[lovemesomesurveys]

5,000 question survey series--part thirty-four

3201. What if this is as good as it gets? Well, shit... I sure hope not. This isn’t good. 3202. Have you ever dated someone mostly or completely because of their looks? Absolutely not. It was their personality that made fall them more than anything. Looks played a small role. 3203. What does the word 'of' mean? It’s used to express the relationship between something. 3204. What should you never forget? Important things? 3205. How many of the 7 Dwarves can you name for us? Dopey, Sleepy, Bashful, Doc, Grumpy, Sneezy, and Happy. You’re welcome.

3206. What animal does your mom resemble? She doesn’t resemble an animal... 3207. Have you ever had a palm reading? No. I don’t believe in it. 3208. What's acrazy thing you did that you got in troubl for as a kid? I lied about taking my medicine. I was hiding them behind my bed. :X 3209. What do you battle against? Depression. Although, if we’re being real it’s not much of a battle. It won. 3210. Do pircings really make the pierced area dramatically more sensative? I wouldn’t know. My ears were pierced when I was about a year old, so I have no memory of it and those are the only piercings I have. 3211. If you had put aside some money for a trip and the travel agent said he had 2 trips available in your price range during the week you want to go, which would you choose: a> a week in hawaii in a luxory beach resort b> a week in africa helping the red cross distribute food and medicine 3212. Have you ever played with a dreidal? I believe so. I remember in elementary school we’d have days where we learned about different cultures and religions and this girl in my class was Jewish and brought some Jewish food and dreidels. 3213. Did you know that Kraft is owned by a ciggerette company? I don’t know if that’s true. Does that bother you? 3214. With all the information constantly rushing at you, how do you know what's important? I don’t know. It’s just something you have to decide for yourself. 3215. How is your life unlike a movie? Everything isn’t all figured out in 2 hours. 3216. Where is the most beautiful place you have visited? Various beaches and mountainous areas. 3217. What is never going in your mouth? Shit. 3218. Are there realaly 5,000 different facts about you? I can’t think of nearly that many. I have a hard time coming up with like 5, ha. 3219. Do you like banana bread? Yesss. Banana bread or muffins without the nut are the best. 3220. Who are you the most gentle and tender around? My doggo. 3221. If electrodes were inserted into your brain and a button was put into your arm so that you could push the button and stimulate an immeadiate orgasm would you forget about life and sit at home pushing the button until you died? lol no. 3222. Is there a differance between being scared and afraid? I think so. I think of afraid as being more severe. 3223. Are you scared and/or afarid of death? Afraid. If yes, what is it about death? The pain? The seperation? the unknown? the fear of nothing? 3224. What is exsitentialism? The idea that a person is a free agent, basically. 3225. SUCCESS is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the definition, So clear, of victory, As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break, agonized and clear. by, Emily Dickinson What is Emily Dickenson trying to say here? 3226. A college girl (maybe you?) blows a tire and pulls off the road in an unfamilliar residential neighborhood. She is having trouble changing the tire when a man in his late thirties-ish comes over and asks if she needs some help. He changes her tire and offers to let her go into his house to wash her hands. She is dirty from trying to change the tire. Should she accept? Absolutely not. I don’t trust people, man. I’m not going back to some stranger’s house. I’d kindly thank them and be on my way. I have hand sanitizer, I’m fine. She does accept and he gives her a tour of the house inclding the upstairs. The staircase in the livingroom leads directly into the master bedroom. The view out the window is beautiful. What are you thinking about this situation? This gives me anxiety, honestly. I’m imagining something bad is going to happen. 3227. Are you too trusting of others? No. 3228. What's the difference between a den and a living room? *shrug* 3229.Write a stream of consiousness sentance: 3230. Who is the hero of all kids? There isn’t one hero for everyone. 3231. Who do you tend to show more of your best side to, your family or strangers? My family sees  the good sides, but they really bad sides, too, unfortunately. 3232. How do you think the harry potter series will end? I know how it ends, it’s been out for years. 3233. Name three things that would make really bad ice cream flavors: Mustard, ketchup, and mayo. lol. 3234. Would you try a jelly bean if it's flavor was: toasted marshmellow? I’ve tried ones like that they were disgusting. fried chicken? black pepper? vomit? grass? dirt? boogers? ear wax? sardines? Did you know that you can get these flavors of jellybeans at harrypotter.com? Yeah. 3235. What's at the center of the earth? Lava. 3236. have you ever wondered where holidays come from? I’ve wondered about the origin of some, yeah. 3237. Do you think there should be more movies shown in 3D? I don’t like watching movies in 3D. 3238. Are you just another brick in the wall? Yep. 3239. Write a haiku (a poem with 3 lines, 1st line is 5 syllables, second line is 7 sylabels, 3rd line is five syllabals): Nah. 3240. Are you cautious and tame? Usually. 3241. Do you like to eat at Subway? I used to. I haven’t been there for awhile. 3242. Is 42 the meaning of life? No. 3243. Would you agree that a blade of grass is nothing less than the journeywork of stars? What. 3244. Do you want to die? No. 3245. If someone was studying 'the humanities' what the hell are they studying? People and culture. 3246. Is this question REALLY is this question 3246? ??? 3247. Do you want to dieT? No. I’m supposed to be on a protein diet, though. 3248. What is colder, your feet, or the floor? Neither at the moment. 3249. What is older, your mouth, or the door? The door. 3250. Are you more beauty or more beast? Beast. 3251. Are we there yet? No. 3252. Scantron or handwritten tests? Scantron. 3253. What's that sound? The TV. 3254. True/false: To the maggots on the cheese, the cheese is the universe. True. 3255. What's the best treat to bring with you to elementary school for your birthday? Cupcakes. That was always so exciting as a kid. 3256. What would you expect to learn from self interrogation? I don’t knowww. 3257. When you feel cold does eating warm food help you feel warm? Eating Ramen does. 3258. Does being true to yourself mean saying 'screw everybody else, my shit is more important'? No. 3259. Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? No. 3260. Have you reckoned the earth much? I don’t know what you’re going on about. 3261. Have you ever had a vision? I’ve kind of thought so sometimes. 3262. If you have a vision or belief and someone else has a conflicting vision or belief, how do you tell which one is valid? It’s what you believe. Are they both valid? To each individual it is to them. 3263. Why is everything based around proof and facts instead of intuition? Not everything is. 3264. What is the grass? It’s a plant. 3265. Have you ever supposed it is lucky to be born? I don’t believe in luck.

Is it just as lucky to die? 3266. What is it that you express in your eyes? Sadness. 3267. What is man anyhow? What am I? and what are you?

You’re getting too philosophical for me. 3268. You understand enough. Why don't you let it out? I don’t know how to express myself a lot of the times. 3269. What is less or more than a touch? What. 3270. Why should anyone wish to see god more than they wish to see this day? Because then we’d be with Him, and that is better than anything else. However, that time won’t come until you die.

3271. Have you guessed that after death you yourself would not continue? I used think there was nothing after death, but that was before I believed in God. 3272. Have you dreaded the earth beetles? 3273. Have you feared the future would be nothing to you? The future terrifies me. 3274. Is today nothing? It feels like it. 3275. Is the beginingless past nothing? I don’t know what you’re asking. 3276. Do you believe in a collective unconsiouss? 3277. Jung or Freud? 3278. What is a 'fate worse than death'? Hell. 3279. What are the 5 main things you think about?/ Health, life, my loved ones, coffee, and food. 3280. Name someone you know. My mom. What is the biggest thing you have in common with them? We enjoy a lot of the same TV shows and we both love to read. 3281. Do you think that laws sshould be passed to regulate human breeding? Noooo. 3282. Do you think they already exist in a subtle way? 3283. Why is it that so many people are demanding the death penalty as punishment for a wider and wider range of crimes? I don’t know. 3284. Is it partially to weed the nonconformists out of the gene pool? 3285. What does it mean to be free? To have nothing tying your down. 3286. What does it mean to be tamed or domesticated? To be disciplined. 3287. Is the human animal becoming more and more tame and domestic? Uhh.

If yes, what is causing this? are we becoming more or less free? Probably less. 3288. Are you embaressed about your naked body? Extremely. I’m very self-conscious.

If yes, is that freedom? I guess not cause I care too much about the opinions and thoughts of others. 3289. Are you the result of all of evolution up to this point? We have evolved over time of course. 3290. The murderous person...how does he sleep? I wonder how they just live with themselves doing what they do. 3291. Your mother...is she living? Yes. Have you been much with her? We live together, we spend a lot of time together.

and has she been much with you? Yes? 3292. Are these questions disturbing you? They just make my head hurt. If yes, why? 3293. What are you focused on? What I’m going to eat when I’m done with this. 3294. Have you ever admired wickedness? No. 3295. Is the acomplishment of one person the accomplishment of all humanity? I mean... some things are done for the benefit of others and not just one person, so I guess in that way, yes?

Why or why not? 3296. Is the imprisonment of one person the imprisonment of all humanity? No?

Why or why not? 3297. We're just following anchient history. If I strip for you, will you strip for me? No, and I’ll pass on your offer as well. Sorry. 3298. Have you ever wished you had not so many clothes? Sometimes cause I just have no room for it all, but I can’t seem to get rid of anything and I keep adding to it. 3299. What is the balance between conformity and individual freedom? Uhhhh. 3300. What do these things have in common: nakedness, sex, killing, fighting, shitting, death? You’re most likely naked during sex. Killing is death. Fighting could sometimes lead to death in extreme cases. I don’t know how shitting relates to any of it.