#the drawing is... probably about five years old? Which is crazy. Who let time progress like that

[whimsimmortal]

~~~

“Thirsty?” She spouted spontaneously, holding out her arm to him with all the grace and charm of a plank of wood. - You Mocha Me Blush, Paulina POV Pink Astronaut oneshot on AO3

~~~

“Ghost boy,” Paulina wheedled, trying to get his attention. “It’s not going to hurt you.” 

“Phantom,” he corrected, lighting a hand with his signature, green magic. It blazed like an alien sun. “And I appreciate the thought, but if being trapped counted as self-care, do you think I would look like this? Don’t answer that. I’m going.” - The Summoner's Sleepover, Paulina. POV Pink Astronaut multi chap fic on AO3

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Rafael Caleb Isserlis Nicknames: His family all call him Ray, but most people just call him Rafael. Age: 30 Birthday: June 6th Zodiac Sign: Gemini Birthplace: Sunnyvale, California Current Location: Barcelona, Spain Speaks: English, Spanish, some Castilian, a bit of Hebrew but not much. Dominant Hand: Right Education: He graduated from UC Berkeley with a Bachelor of Arts degree. His original focus was Computer Software Engineering, but he switched his focus to Drawing and Painting in his sophomore year. Occupation: Bouncer at a strip club, and he has been working on a comic book with a friend (Rafael is working on the art, and his friend is the writer/story creator) for about a year. They hope to publish and sell it at some point soon. Vehicle: 2003 Opel Zafira in silver. Not the most attractive car, but he got it for cheap and it has been very reliable for him. Worldly Possessions: Lots of art supplies, a bunch of comic books, tons of dog toys, a photo album full of family pictures (put together for him by his mother before he moved to Spain), and tons of blankets and pillows because he loves to be comfy~ Pet(s): A black and white Mucuchi named Oreo. Rafael loves taking Oreo pretty much anywhere that dogs are allowed, and Oreo is always very happy to go on adventures.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: Just under 6’ Hair: He generally keeps it trimmed short just because it is easier to take care of, though he occasionally grows it out a little longer so the curls really show. He’s never dyed it before, so it is his natural dark brown color. Facial Hair: He always has at least a little bit of facial hair, even if it’s just some light scruffiness. He does like to let it grow out more sometimes. Eye Colour: Brown with some flecks of hazel Skin Tone: Dark, though the tone varies depending on the time of year. He is quite a bit darker in the warmer months thanks to his love of the outdoors. Clothing: He dresses casually for the most part, lots of jeans and t-shirts (especially band tees). If he’s working, he might wear a nice jacket as well. He almost always wears combat boots, unless he’s going running or hiking, then he’ll wear comfy sneakers. He loves wearing beanies, especially in colder weather, and he has them in a bunch of different colors. Although he doesn’t have much reason to dress up, he does look great in a suit and has some nice clothes on hand just in case. Distinguishing Marks: He has a couple of large tattoos on his chest, and a half sleeve on his left arm. He plans on getting more tattoos at some point, but he hasn’t decided what he wants or where. Face Claim: Jordan Calloway

H E A L T H Physical Health: Rafael is in excellent health– he loves doing any sort of physical activity, especially if it involves being outdoors, so he's very fit. He works out on a regular basis and eats quite healthy (though he's not opposed to a little junk food now and then). He gets sick now and then, just minor things like a cold or a mild case of the flu, but he's never been seriously sick or anything. Basically, Rafael takes great care of himself. Physical Abilities/Limitations: He can lift very heavy things thanks to his weight training at the gym. He's got good endurance/stamina– he can hike or run for quite a long time before needing a break. He's a good artist with a very distinctive style; he is constantly drawing, doodling on napkins, just keeping his hands busy whenever he can. Addictions: No addictions to speak of. Allergies: Citrus in general makes his mouth hurt, but sometimes he eats it anyway because he just can't resist. Mental Health: Generally good. He had a very stable upbringing with lots of supportive friends and family around. He is lucky enough to never have experienced any sort of mental illness or any really traumatic events in his life.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Rafael was born in Sunnyvale, California to wealthy parents (his mother is an OB/GYN, and his father is a very successful software engineer). He was the fourth of five children. He grew up surrounded by a very loving family, including much of his extended family, and had a near idyllic childhood. Growing up, Rafael always showed an aptitude for art– he was quite a skilled artist from a young age, but he also had a deep interest in his father’s work and loved all things to do with technology. He taught himself to code when he was about twelve years old and even made a couple of very basic games just to practice. Rafael was always a great student, not exactly straight A’s since he had a bit of a hard time in his literature classes and some of the more complicated math classes, but he never got any grades lower than a B, and he always tried his hardest and studied a lot, did extra credit whenever he could, etc. He also always had a lot of friends and was a bit girl crazy in high school, so he was always dating a new girl. He was on his high school’s soccer team as well– the PE coach always wanted him to go out for the football team, but Rafael hated football and still does, so he never bothered, preferring to use the time to do various volunteer projects or just hang out with his friends. Thanks to his excellent GPA and a wealth of extracurriculars and volunteer experience, Rafael had an easy time getting accepted into UC Berkeley. He initially majored in Computer Software Engineering, as he’d always planned– but after a trip across Europe with some of his friends just before his Sophomore year of college, he had a shift in perspective and realized that he really wanted to focus on his art after all. He changed his major to focus on Drawing and Painting, which was a bit of a surprise to his family, but they were, as always, very supportive of his decision, especially since it turned out he wouldn’t lose any progress toward his degree. After graduating, Rafael decided to do what he’d always wanted to do and live abroad. He decided on living in Spain, since he had taken nearly eight years of Spanish between high school and college and was almost fluent at that point. He spent a few years just travelling around Spain, exploring, working odd jobs, meeting people, just having a good time. Eventually he ended up settling in Barcelona after meeting a particularly good group of people, finding himself a quaint little house in the heart of the city, and getting a job as a bouncer in a local strip club. He has been there ever since. Job History: He didn't have his first job until college– he worked as a barista at a Starbucks on campus for his entire college career, which he actually really enjoyed. Once he moved to Spain and started traveling around, he did tons of odd jobs helping out with manual labor, working in restaurants, helping out around people's houses, doing yard work, just anything he could find that didn't require a lot of commitment. Once he settled in Barcelona, he took a job as a bouncer in a strip club because it paid decently well and fit into his schedule very nicely– that is where he's been ever since. Fondest Memories: Lots of happy childhood memories, too many to list actually. One of his fondest memories is his trip across Europe with his college friends. Plus all his adventures across Spain and the various times his sister Eliana has come to visit him. Worst Experiences: His paternal grandparents both died in a car accident when Rafael was fourteen, and that was probably the single worst experience of his life. A couple of his breakups were particularly rough on him as well.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Definitely not a smooth talker, but not super awkward either (unless he’s trying to flirt). He’s laid back when he speaks, not overly formal, always seems pretty relaxed (again, unless he is attempting to flirt). He doesn’t talk excessively, but he’s not quiet or shy either, always loves to jump into a conversation, especially if it’s about a subject he’s interested in. If someone gets him started on a subject he’s passionate about, he gets very animated and excited about it. Accent: American accent, which sometimes comes through in his Spanish– though his Spanish accent, for the most part, is pretty good. Favorite Phrases or Words: He says “oh snap!” a lot when speaking English, something that rubbed off on him thanks to his younger sister. Usual Curse Words: He doesn’t curse a whole lot– it’s not that he’s offended by cursing or anything, he just kind of doesn’t think to curse unless he’s angry or really passionate about something.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: ENFP-A Sense of Humor: Rafael loves to laugh and has a pretty open sense of humor. The only type of humor he doesn’t vibe with is super offensive or raunchy/sexual humor, that’s just not his thing. But anything silly, clever, wordplay or puns, non-sequitur/weird humor, all of that is totally his cup of tea. Habits: Rafael is a bit fidgety and always has to be doing something with his hands. He can be still if he actively focuses on not fidgeting, but it's a little difficult for him. He's constantly drawing on napkins or little pieces of paper, on himself, and on others if they'll let him. If he doesn't have a pen handy then he'll crack his knuckles or he'll kinda rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. He just really cannot hold still unless his mind is fully occupied with something. Fears/Phobias: The whole idea of ghosts or demons really freaks him out. He also sometimes has a touch of existential dread and wonders if he’s going to be alone forever, but that usually doesn’t last long, just a sleepless night or two and then he gets past it. Strengths: Rafael is a very caring, sweet person who is genuinely interested in other people and loves to help whenever he can. He is attentive to people’s needs and tends to anticipate those needs in advance, so he is quite a thoughtful person. In general, he’s an optimist who likes to look on the bright side of things no matter how bad the situation may get and tries not to let the little things get him down. He is also very protective of those he loves, and though he is friendly to people almost all of the time, if anyone is rude to or tries to hurt someone he cares about, he won’t hesitate to speak up on behalf of or physically protect his loved one. Flaws: While his optimism is often a positive trait, Rafael sometimes takes it too far and doesn’t allow himself to just be sad or angry now and then, even when it would be good for him. He tends to suppress any emotion he perceives as negative instead of actually processing his feelings. In relationships, he can be a bit possessive and jealous at times, but he knows that’s his own problem and he really tries not to take it out on his partners. Hopes/Desires: He really hopes to get his comics published at some point– he just really wants to get them out there, even if they don’t get super popular or anything, he’s just really proud of their work and wants people to see it. He also really wants to find someone he can settle down with (or go on adventures with), someone he can spoil with tons of love and affection. He would love to get married and maybe have kids someday, but if his partner didn’t want children he would be okay with that also. Self-Esteem: Super good, honestly. He has his moments of insecurity just like anyone else, but overall he is comfortable with himself and believes himself to be a good person. Religion: Kinda Jewish, kinda atheist. It’s complicated.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Curled up on his right side, usually. Boxers or Briefs?: Boxers Day or Night?: Night for sure, he is naturally a night owl. Top or Bottom?: Probably top more than anything, but if he was with a partner that wanted to switch it up, he would happily give it a try~ Partying or Relaxing?: This would be a really hard choice for him, but he would probably have to go with partying. He loves the atmosphere of a good party.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: Besides his younger sister, Rafael's best friend is Isabel Maduro, a woman he met when he moved to Barcelona. They have been working together on a comic book series for a while now; she is a very talented writer who comes up with stories that blow Rafael's mind. They see each other fairly often not just to work on the comics, but to go on walks or out to lunch, or on the occasional hike. Relationship History: Rafael had a ton of relationships in high school, many of which lasted two weeks or less and obviously those relationships didn't get serious at all– Rafael was just kind of playing the field at that point. He didn't actually have sex, or a serious relationship, until his first year of college. He then dated his first serious girlfriend, and they lasted about six months before she broke things off because she felt he was more attached than she was and she didn't want to waste his time. That is actually how all of Rafael's relationships have gone since then– he always gets broken up with before a year has passed (often much sooner than that) because they're not as into him as he is into them, or he's just too much, being too intense, etc. As a result, he's now reluctant to express his feelings at all because he doesn't want to put pressure on anyone. Sexual Partners: Rafael doesn't exactly get around or anything, but he has had about a dozen sexual partners in his life, all of them women. Thoughts About Sex: Rafael loves sex within the confines of a relationship but doesn't have much interest in it other than that. One night stands, flings, anything like that is not for him. So far, Rafael has only been with women. He's been attracted to men before and he knows he's definitely not straight, but he's always been way too nervous to try and flirt with men. He has never come out to anyone but if he were to end up in a relationship with a man, he wouldn't hesitate to come out– his sister Eliana is a lesbian and currently engaged to another woman, and was readily accepted by their family, so he knows they would all support him if he ever told them.

P A R E N T S Name(s): Shira and Booker Isserlis Age(s): Both 64 years old. Social Standing: White collar for sure, and they are in very good social standing. Occupation(s): She is an OB/GYN who is set to retire in a couple of years, and he is a computer software engineer who doesn’t plan to retire anytime soon. Religion: She is Jewish and he is agnostic, but does observe/celebrate Jewish holidays and events. Quality of Relationship With Their Children: They love and support all of their children unconditionally. They do worry about Rafael sometimes just because he’s more of a wanderer than their other children, he’s a bit more aimless, but they know he can take care of himself. Living/Deceased: Both alive and in excellent health.

S I B L I N G (S) Name(s): Daniel Isserlis, Itai Isserlis, Tamar Huang, and Eliana Isserlis (soon to be Eliana Florakis). Age(s): 34, 32, 31, 29. Yes, their parents basically had all of their children back to back. Social Standing: They have all done very well for themselves, and are all in good social standing. Occupation(s): Daniel is a software engineer and works with their father. Itai is a forensic accountant and he has helped to arrest many white collar criminals. Tamar runs a non-profit organization that helps underprivileged children by providing housing, food, education/tutors, and after school activities. And Eliana is an event planner who specializes in weddings. Religion: Daniel and Tamar are still devoutly Jewish. Itai and Eliana are more like Rafael– they appreciate and enjoy aspects of Judaism but they don’t really believe in it. Quality of Relationship with Character: Rafael loves all of his siblings and would do just about anything for them, but he is definitely the closest with Eliana out of all of them. He really only sees/talks to his other siblings a few times a year, but he talks to Eliana all the time. Living/Deceased: All alive.

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: He lives in a cute little one bedroom house right in the heart of the city, on a very busy street. He loves being right in the middle of everything, so it’s ideal for him. The place was a bit rundown when he first bought it, but he has fixed it up quite a bit and although no one would say it’s luxurious or anything, it’s definitely nice and comfortable. He loves having guests over and has lots of seating and a large TV, plus a pull-out couch in the living room just in case anyone stays the night, not to mention a spacious king sized bed in his room.

[keijikunn]

All Of Your Soul

Part of the @babythotshq mini collab!! You can check the other parts here!

Pairing: demon!Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Genre: angst, crack if you squint for like 2 seconds  Summary: Your superstitious grandmother always told you not to get involved with demons, but how could you not when Tsukishima Kei, the one you’ve summoned, was so alluring? Word count: ~3.4k

Author’s note: Happy Halloween!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and a massive shoutout to @hidden-otaku-stuff  @kaitycole  and of course @babythotshq who helped me out during the process of writing this fic! Love you all mwah mwah 💞

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, minor and major character death, yandere!tsukki, mentions of violence, mention of sex, swearing

Ever since you were a kid, your grandmother warned you about the evil creatures that cohabited the world you lived in. She was often called crazy because of it - after all, she was an old lady talking non-stop about demons. However, that topic amazed you rather than giving you chills down your spine. Your curiosity grew progressively as she told you the same thing over and over: “Don’t mess up with them, or else they’ll take your soul away”.

You always thought grandma told you those stories just to scare you off, to make sure you would stay in line. But the way you’d laugh it off at the age of 7 almost like daring the threat hinted your disbelief. 

"The entire hell can come get me, they won't be able to touch me!" you once told your grandmother, which earned you a scoff and a flick on your forehead. 

"Oh, Y/N" she cooed, almost in pity, patting your head. "You will regret it when you're older," 

And once again, you laughed at her. 

It became part of your childhood, long forgotten as the years passed by and the concept of believing in demons appeared to be silly. Your memory permanently buried it in the depths of your mind after your dear grandmother passed away, leaving this world with her tales from underworld creatures.

A long time since she passed,, you remembered the spooky way the old woman would tell you different myths when you were packing your belongings to leave for college. The old box stuffed inside the attic filled with dusty and thick books lit a lamp in your head, concluding your grandma used to tell you those stories. 

Not only did she have short terrifying ones, your grandma seemed to be way more superstitious than just believing in simple tales. Some of them had different symbols, with many side notes written - assumably - by your late relative. The barely readable handwritten overlapped one another, all information mixing into a big mess that you could hardly understand. 

“Granny was really into it, huh?” 

It wouldn’t hurt reading them - after all, it would be for the sake of your childhood. 

And just like you found yourself drawing strange patterns inside a circle on the floor of your bedroom with chalk, it hardly appeared but you didn’t mind. It’s just some made up stories, you thought, proceeding to let an airy laugh just thinking about your grandmother tossing and turning in her coffin. Your disbelief in these surely came from your young age. After that, all you needed to do was a single drop of your blood and say some weird phrases. 

“If it doesn’t work, it’s because of these freaking sentences,” you muttered, pricking your finger with a needle. As the red liquid fell on the center of the circle you drew, the difficult words slipped out of your lips.

A few minutes passed by after you finished the ritual and the bedroom was engulfed in silence. How you wished you could talk to your grandmother right now, just to rub it in her face that she was wrong - even though you had a mess to clean. Tossing the old book aside, you laughed at the situation you had put yourself in and undid a part of the draw. 

“You know, ever since you were a kid your sassy attitude got me on my nerves,” a second voice echoed, a male one. 

You have never turned your head so quickly in your life, looking for the person who just spoke to you. A tall, blonde guy stood on the other side of the circle; the black dress shirt had the first three buttons undone matching with the black slacks. He was handsome, and you wondered if it was your mind’s work to show you one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen (and imagined) in your life. “It’s rude to stare”

“I must be crazy,” you laughed, rubbing your eyes, when you opened them again, he was still there, with an annoyed look on his features. “Granny must be pranking me, there’s no fucking way I summoned-”

“A demon, actually you just did, haven’t you read the book, dumbass?” he hissed, rolling his eyes. The blonde man crouched to look at the poorly drawn summoning circle and scoffed. “I wonder how you managed to summon me, this shit is terrible, not to mention your Latin”

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s fucking hard to draw it, let alone speaking goddamn Latin!” This guy, this demon was pissing you out, and he had only been in your room for less than five minutes. “Okay, I guess you’re real, my grandma was right, go to hell”

“A lot of people have already told me this joke, and I have to remind every single human that it sucks,” he snapped angrily, before sighing in defeat and looking at you. “What do you want from me?”

“Me, nothing,” you chimed sarcastically. “I was serious when I told you to go to hell, demon.”

“Can you please not call me demon?!”

“So how should I call you? Rex?”

“Jesus, you’re so annoying-”

“I thought demons couldn’t say Jesus’ name, Rex”

“For fucks sake, it’s Tsukishima!” he said louder than he wanted, his voice vibrated inside your body sending chills down your spine. “You’re the worst human that has ever summoned me, and it was just for fun!” 

“Then stop complaining and return to hell, it’s not that hard!” you shot back, just as annoyed as him. A part of yourself, the superstitious one, the same one that had believed for a short while in your grandma, was screaming at yourself for picking up a fight with a demon, but your prideful one wouldn’t let that go easily. 

“I can’t just do it when you fucking used your blood while summoning me!” Tsukishima exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you know how to read? It clearly says that blood rituals are strong, they tie your soul to me.”

“You’re telling me you, a demon, can't undo this shit?” you asked, at the sight of the male shaking his head sideways you groan frustrated. "What kind of shitty demons are you?"

"A demon that is way smarter than you, idiot." he mocked angrily.

"What am I going to do with such a pain in the ass?" The question didn't look for a proper answer from him, but either way he grunted in protest. "If I pray to whatever god, will you be repelled?"

"You're really the dumbest human I’ve ever met," Tsukishima stated as he rolled his eyes. "Of course not, what do you think I am? An ordinary demon from a shitty movie?"

"Well-"

"You know what? Don't answer it," he cut you, shaking his hand as if the gesture would shut you off. "Clean this mess, it's giving me chills seeing such a bad job." 

"Use your demon powers to clean it all!"

"I'm not a fucking fairy!"

Tsukishima was just a single demon, but his presence seemed to bring the whole hell to you. His witty and unnecessary comments easily threw you off the edge, and as if he noticed, which he probably did, the man made sure to say at least one provoking statement every single time he opened his mouth.

It wasn’t easy to get used with his presence, especially when Tsukishima made sure to remind you every minute you were awake that “it’s your fault”. 

Yet, the demon did not tell you how to break whatever bond you established with him. You came to the conclusion that his duty whenever he was summoned was to annoy people out. What a useless demon, you thought once, just to hear him screaming profanities and insults inside your head.

You have never imagined that this situation would drag for so long. Tsukishima was there on your first day at college, and he made sure to make you embarrass yourself in front of your class. He was also there to ruin your first date with a cute guy from one of your periods, Inuoka ended the night a bit paranoid about someone following him around.

“I think you told me you weren’t a fairy to do this kind of thing, Tsukki” you commented sarcastically, feeling the anger bubble inside your chest. 

“You heard it right, Y/N,” he answered, throwing himself at your not-so-comfortable sofa, stretching his legs over the coffee table in front of it. “That guy looked like a little boy scared of his own shadow!”

“Why did you do it?!” The question came out more desperate than you wanted it to be. Inuoka wasn’t the first man Tsukishima pulled a stunt on, and by the way your personal demon (as you address him) acts it’s not going to be the last. “He was so nice, he didn’t deserve this childish attitude of yours!”

“Well, he doesn’t have part of your soul like I do,” Tsukishima muttered quietly, but his eyes spoke volumes about his feelings. The possessiveness shone in his golden-brown orbs, a hint of jealous maybe, and you wondered once again if he had feelings like you.

“Tsukishima…” 

All words left your brain as the tall man walked over you, holding your face with his hand. He ran his thumb over your lips and squeezed your cheeks with his grip, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “What are you-”

“You’re mine.” He spoke firmly, not giving a chance to say anything back. “I have a part of me in you and part of your soul is mine. You are mine”

Without a warning, Tsukishima leaned down to smash his lips against yours. His movements were harsh, but it didn’t take too long for you to give in into the heated kiss. Your head was empty, and all you could feel was his mouth on yours and a slender hand travelling inside your shirt. The lack of air in your system made you pull away from the contact, locking eyes with him with a clear question mark above your head. 

“What the hell was that, Tsukki?” The anger vanished, leaving behind confusion and a bit of… desire inside of you. 

“I’m just showing you who you belong to.” 

At that moment you couldn’t see all the red flags on that simple statement. The frustration of many failed dates piled up on your nerves to the point that you were not able to see the meaning behind those words. The mere thought of a man desiring you probably the same way as you did blinded you, and that made you snake your hands around Tsukishima’s neck and bring him down to another feverish kiss.

The rest of the night passed by like a blur, Tsukishima’s touch was hot on your skin - and you enjoyed it. The sane part of your brain didn’t have enough room to question your actions: what on Earth were you doing hooking up with a demon? Were you that desperate to be intimate with someone? As quickly as those thoughts invaded your mind, the man towering over you proceeded to take your focus to himself

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but once you woke up, feeling sore as fuck, you noticed Tsukki lying next to you. His eyes were closed, yet you knew for a fact he wasn’t in a deep slumber-  he didn't need sleep. Nevertheless, you took a few moments to appreciate the view, at the same time flashes of your previous activities together came to you just like a fever dream. 

“You don’t have a brain to think too much, dumbass,” he said without even looking at you, a sly smile graced his face nicely and you wondered if he was, at some point in his life, an actual angel. “Do you know who you belong to?”

“I’m not really sure,” you replied shamelessly. Tsukishima’s eyes opened to look straight at yours, arching his eyebrows at your daring tone. “All I remember is a very annoying demon being a bitch about a guy I was interested in”

Messing with Tsukishima became one of your favourite things, because his immediate response was to pin you on the next hard surface and engage in a messy kiss. Being with him was way different than any other relationship you've had, which weren't many since that demon was on your ass ever since you started college. 

Either way, you loved the push and pull between you two. The constant bickering would eventually turn into a heated make out session, and sometimes even more than that. You completely forgot that the man you were in a sort of relationship (if you could call it that way) was a supernatural creature; your mind chose to bury the important information of who Tsukishima really was: a demon.

His actions started to change after over a month or two since you fucked for the first time. Although the snarky and teasing comments were far from coming to an end, you found yourself curled next to him every night. Tsukishima would hold you before you sleep, even if he had to spend a few hours in the same position (which never lasted long, he learned in the hard way that you toss and turn a lot). 

You also changed around him, much to your surprise. You no longer found other men at college attractive; your Friday nights were spent on your couch with Tsukishima next to you, with a random movie on the TV while the two of you kiss. He was your getaway when things got too rough for you, with his hot touches and endless desire. 

Maybe it was the attention Tsukishima gave you, or perhaps that he has been with you for so long, but he managed to win your heart completely. Every time the blonde demon hissed “you’re mine”, how he always satiates your desires and even the awkward moments when he tries to cuddle you. Every little thing this man does pull the strings attached to your heart and mind. 

And you knew Tsukishima noticed your change of demeanor as well, how you got clingier as the months passed by, the soft tone on your voice and the lack of sarcastic responses to his mean comments. You were falling in love with him, and it was the most obvious thing Tsukki has ever witnessed during his whole life dealing with humans.

“I think I love you, Tsukki” you managed to say, your body trembled due to the intense pleasure the man above you just provided. His eyes were unreadable as he looked down at you, but you could dare to say there was a hint of fondness swimming in them. “I never thought it would be possible to fall in love with in all creatures, a demon”

“Yeah?” he caressed your cheek, tracing down to your neckline and pressing on the reddish marks on your skin. “And you were the almighty kid who didn’t believe in demons”

“A pretty annoying demon changed my mind, I have to add” the smile on your face was small, but held so much meaning. However, Tsukishima didn’t mirror your feelings, displaying a rather sadistic one instead. “And you, have you changed your mind about humans?”

“Who knows?” Tsukishima asked rhetorically, letting his body fall next to yours on the bed. "You're the most… interesting human I've met." 

You laughed at his comment, pressing your face against his side in a loving manner. The fact that Tsukishima stood still instead of responding to the display of affection went unnoticed by you; he was being himself, you tried to justify his stiffness. 

Your relationship with him was just like that: you being overly affectionate and Tsukishima… being himself, the hard to approach demon with beautiful looks and with a magnetic aura. You fell easily for him, like getting used to a new daily routine. In a matter of time you found yourself being more vocal about your quick paced heart, the butterflies flying inside your stomach and even the high pitched tone of your voice whenever you couldn't retort one of his comments. 

The man, on the other hand, didn’t follow this demeanor - in fact, Tsukishima started to act the opposite way. He would avoid your touches like the plague, leaving your apartment late at night and returning near the afternoon with purple marks on his neck and collarbones. Something inside you, jealousy, lit up like setting something on fire: wild, uncontrolled and destructive. Once it starts burning, it won’t stop easily. 

“Can’t you stop fucking other people around?!” You screamed at him, not caring if the clock on the wall just hit three in the morning. “Am I not enough for you?”

“Stop making a case out of it, Y/N” Tsukishima rolled his eyes trying to pass through you, only to be blocked by your body. “Jesus, why are you being so jealous?! We have nothing between us”

“I am fucking in love with you, dumbass!” Your high pitched voice was followed by a dead silence. Tsukishima stared at you blankly while you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself, but the adrenaline of your confession didn’t help you stay quiet. “I’ve been head over heels for you for the longest time and you proceeded to hook up with other people every night… Am I that easy for you? I love you with all my heart, a part of my soul is yours- why can’t you do the same?”

All you could hear at first was your erratic breathing pattern, then the room was filled with his laugh. He was laughing as if someone had just told him the funniest joke he ever heard, the way his torso bent forward to accompany sick amusement creeped you out. Tsukishima pretended to wipe a tear and smiled at you. 

“Oh, Y/N… You’re definitely something else, huh?” He said rhetorically, stretching his arm so his hand could cup your face. You stood still, suddenly unsure about his actions and words. Tsukishima has never used such a cold and psychotic tone with you, let alone that sadistic smirk hiding so many feelings. “So you finally accepted that you’re mine, right?”

“H-How can I be yours if you don’t give yourself to me, as well?” Never in your life have you felt so terrified, something in Tsukishima’s demeanor screamed that he wasn’t joking around. He was about to do something bad, and it would be against you. “Isn’t my love enough for you?”

“Well, to be honest? It’s almost enough” he agreed, his index finger traced down your cheeks, following down your neck until it pointed directly to the left side of your chest, above your beating heart. “So, shall I claim what is mine?”

The time seemed to be slowed down, your heartbeats were loud in your ears and your limbs were numb - you couldn’t move them at all. Regardless, it would be impossible for you, a mere human, to stop Tsukishima from slamming his hand against your chest. You didn’t feel physical pain, but the sensation of something, someone wrapping slender fingers around your inner self made you scream. 

“Tsukishima, w-what are you doing?” Your trembling voice made him laugh, the same hand he used to hit you fully on display for you to see him close it. The immediate reaction of you was a shriek, as if the demon was squeezing your insides. “What the fuck, Tsukki?”

 “Why are you so surprised?” Tsukishima asked with fake innocence, wiping the tears you didn’t know you shed. “You just told me you loved me with all your heart, that a part of your soul is mine… So I’m claiming my belongings, after all, this is the kind of demon I am: whenever a stupid little human like you summons me with blood, they sell their souls to me. It’s a matter of time for me to get it”

“I… I trusted you, Tsukki…” Your sobs interrupted your own speech. All the intimate moments you two have spent together were pure acting, meaningless, just to make you give your everything spontaneously to him. 

Your grandmother was right. You regretted every single interaction you had with Tsukishima, the demon you summoned before entering college. 

“Well, it’s your own fault.” With that, Tsukishima harshly pulled his hand backwards, leaving behind only an empty body with no soul. 

TAGLIST

crossed users are the ones i couldn’t tag!

@jovialnoise @paripedia @angmarwitch @shinhiromi @mariachiiii @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @boosyboo9206 @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @atsumubabe​ @sachirou-senpai

[geckolady]

Skulduggery Pleasant: Raising Cain - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Permanent resident

Stephanie is nine years old

The death of her mother had rocked Stephanie greatly. At the start she could only think about how she was gone, about her hugs and kisses and what she was going to miss the most. Losing her dad hadn’t been this bad but she had been naive then, too young to know better. She couldn’t even remember his face. Now she was older, she understood. She’d never see her Mummy again.

How was she ever meant to go back to normal?

She hadn’t been scared though, and she knew her Mum would be proud. First, Uncle Fergus had shown up and taken her to his house. She didn’t like it there. She was given a hot chocolate and the twins weren’t in sight. Beryl was very quiet, which was almost stranger than anything else. Almost strange enough to distract her. Then she got picked up by her Grandma and was told she’d stay with her for a while, which was nice. It was Grandma that explained that her Mum was gone forever and was sent to Heaven. She just cried. She didn’t even know if Heaven was real! What if it wasn’t and her Mum had disappeared? What if she was somewhere else? It just didn’t make sense and all the questions made her feel like she was slowly going crazy.

That Friday, six days after Melissa died in a car accident, only a few hundred yards from the building where her husband had fallen to his death, Gordon came to Grandma’s house while she was asleep.

She crept to the top of the stairs, immediately happy to hear his voice from her bed.

“-with me,” Gordon was saying. “Melissa already arranged it that way.”

“Then where were you, Gordon?” Grandma said with more anger than Stephanie had heard from her before. “Honestly, you are a bad influence on that girl! What makes you think you deserve her? She needs stability, not you. You have to be the last person she should be visited by when she’s so upset, and I intend to not let you see her again.”

That's when Stephanie got scared.

She ran to her room and got her backpack and quickly filled it with all the things she had been given when family had visited, all brought from her house. Her Mum’s house. She didn’t have much. Quickly, she grabbed her favourite toy panda and bolted down the stairs.

“-we’ll see about that!” Grandma shouted. She was in Gordon’s face. He was red with anger and his fists were balled.

“It should be her choice, Veronica! At any rate, it’s in the Will! I’m her godfather, I’m her guardian and I have full custody! If she wants to stay she can. But I won’t just leave her and never come back,” he growled at her.

“How dare you–”

“I want to go with Gordon.”

The adults jumped out of their skin and looked at Stephanie. She was still in her little shorts and top, her hair probably all over the place. She walked to Grandma and gave her a hug.

“I love you,” she said softly. “But I want to go with Gordon.”

Grandma started to sob but after a lot of hugging, she was finally pried away by her uncle and walked to the car. They drove in silence.

She wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, she was a tiny bit excited that she might see her friends again. That would be fun, even if she were still upset and missing her mother. She smiled, drifting off to sleep.

.*****.

“AAAAAAAAGGHHH!” Stephanie shouted, throwing a snowball over at Gordon. It hit his head just as he looked over his fort. “YYYYEEEEAAAHH! I’m the victor!”

“Never!” And he got her on the shoulder.

Stephanie laughed and continued to scream and pelt him with snowballs. When they were finished trying to annulate each other, they went inside to get hot chocolate. Stephanie sat on the sofa in the living room, blowing at the hot liquid. It would be Christmas in a few days and the big Christmas tree was almost hovering off the ground because of the amount of presents that were stacked underneath. Stephanie had bought Gordon and her six friends gifts which Gordon promised to give them. She was also going to bake some biscuits which he said he’d give to them also. That was tomorrow's job. The rest of it was for her.

Sometimes she felt bad that they always bought her things. But it wasn’t like she made them do it, so she didn’t think about it much.

“So, what are you hoping to get for Christmas?” Gordon asked, sitting across from her.

“You know what I want,” she said, taking a sip finally. It almost scalded her tongue. “I want to see my friends.”

He sighed. “Why can’t you want fun things like TV’s and games and money?”

“So… I can have a TV?”

“No. But that’s what you’re meant to want,” he told her. “Not even a book?”

She shrugged. “That would be nice, but I’d really like to see them.”

He smiled at her. “You know I can’t let you do that. I’m sorry Steph. I just want to keep you happy, you know.”

She smiled weakly. “I know. I love living with you. I just want to see them.”

“When you’re older, I promise. When you’re older we can all go on holiday, we can do anything you want. You’re just too young now. You could get hurt.”

She nodded and tried to think of what to do to make him see her as stronger and older. She bit her lip. “How would I get hurt visiting someone?”

“Because of their jobs. They take down bad guys, and you’re just too small. And don’t act like you wouldn’t get involved because we both know the first thing you’ll ask after you meet them is to go and work with them!”

Stephanie hesitated and decided it was best not to push. “Maybe I could do something now, before I meet them? Like learning to fight. Then I’ll be really strong when I’m older.”

He grinned. “Now that’s a good idea.”

.*****.

It was summer again and almost Stephanie’s tenth birthday. In the nine months since Christmas, she had grown almost two inches and she’d been doing well at learning to fight. She had been allowed to join a junior Muay Thai class on Mondays and Thursdays, a boxing class on Fridays, and a morning kid’s fitness club on Monday through Friday mornings. There were mostly older kids there, but after a few months of fighting, she was good enough to keep up with them. On Tuesday and Wednesday evenings she swam. It really helped her relax and blow off steam from school. She really didn’t like school.

The weekends were strictly for her and Gordon, with a little homework time, so Stephanie was looking forward to tomorrow when they would get to go to a theme park. Plus the day after was her birthday. It was going to be a good birthday, especially since school had been so bad since she started. Year Five was not fun!

“Steph, are you ready?” Gordon called from the hall. “And have you seen my keys?”

“Here!” She grabbed Gordon’s key’s and they drove to the small gym where a load of kids were already standing around outside. She supposed it was still alright to do the class on the grass. The sky was white, and not in the about-to-rain way.

“I can’t wait until we start training inside again,” she moaned. “I like the inside.”

He grinned at her. “You’ll be alright. Now go kick their arses! If I get back and you’re not in trouble I will be deeply disappointed, young lady!”

Stephanie laughed and hurried to join the group. It was a good lesson and she had progressed enough that their teacher, a young man called Cory, allowed her and one of the older kids – they were all boys except for her – to spar.

“I can’t spar her!” He said, thrusting his small training glove at her. “She’s a girl!”

Stephanie put her mouth guard in and crawled into the ring. They had gone inside for the sparing. Gordon entered the building and waved to her. She grinned and waved back.

“Mate, just spar her. Trust me, she’ll be fine,” Cory told him. “Now get in there.”

The boy, maybe twelve and not much bigger than her though she could see he had more muscles, got in but he didn’t look happy. “I’m not fighting you,” he said lowly to Stephanie.

“Why not?” She frowned.

“You’re a girl!”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and punched him in the nose.

The boy's mum was furious with her. She had broken her poor boy's nose and he had been crying all the way to the hospital to get it fixed. Their trainer had kept her behind while they got it sorted and then high-fived Stephanie when he was gone and sent them on their way.

“I did it,” she claimed, sitting back in the car. “I did what you said. I won.”

“You did,” he grinned. “You have a mean punch.”

“I have,” she said seriously. “I want to meet my friends and go on adventures.”

His smile lessened but she felt he was not exactly upset. “So, what do you want for your birthday?”

She snored. “I still want to see my friends. Obviously.”

“When you’re older Steph. I promise. I’m going to tell them all about this though.”

She grinned. “Awesome.”

.*****.

Secondary School was not fun. She had thought Primary School had been bad. This was a lot worse. She hated Secondary School. Who did Mrs Miller think she was? She was an idiot. She was a bitch. An idiot bitch.

“Steph?” Gordon called up the stairs as she stomped away. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she growled, stomping to her room. She hated school.

She dumped her bag by her bed and laid down against the pillows. She’d had it redesigned for her eleventh birthday, choosing to get black display cases for all her gifts with lots of book space, a long desk, big bed and fluffy rug. The two big windows showcased the front garden beautifully and she got to see every time her friends came over. She never saw them themselves though. Not even from their cars. They were always blackened, and she couldn’t help but feel left out and upset that they didn’t want to see her. They still left her gifts, but a friend to talk to would be more appreciated.

“Steph?” Gordon asked quietly. “Can I come in?”

She shrugged, looking out the window. He sat at the end of her bed.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing.”

“Please. I’m not that stupid. Tell me what’s up.”

She thought about it for a moment. “I hate Mrs Miller.”

“ And why’s that?”

“She’s nasty.”

“How?”

“She said something nasty.”

“What did she say?”

“We got into an argument. I was making a drawing on my book, and I know that’s wrong, but she screamed at me in front of the whole class and then ripped my book apart.”

“What book?”

“My school one, the one I write in! She pulled out the page with pictures on it, even the one with things in the margins and put it all in the bin.”

“That’s not everything, is it?” He said, putting a hand on her knee.

She shook her head. “She got in my face and said ‘Do you think you’re smart? You’re going to grow up to be an idiot and never do anything in your life. Your parents will wish they never had you, they’ll wish they never knew you at all. Do you want that?’ and then she made me stand in the corner, but I refused, and she told me to leave the room, and I did, but I heard her say under her breath, ‘No wonder she has no friends.’ Who does that? This isn’t a – a – a fucking movie!”

He kissed the top of her head and let her language slide. “Let me call the school.”

She nodded and waited until she thought he was far away from the room before she cried.

Later that night after a takeaway pizza and ice cream, Stephanie laid in bed with her eyes closed, trying hard to fall asleep.

Her door opened.

“She was so upset,” Gordon said softly from the door. Stephanie tried to be as still as possible. “I’m worried about her.”

“She doesn’t seem to get on with people her own age well,” Crow’s velvet voice said. She really wanted to move now. “Perhaps you should reconsider our agreement.”

Gordon made a tutting sound. “I want Stephanie to have every opportunity in the world. Going on adventures is one of them. Until she’s at least a little older she won’t be able to realise the hardship and pain that comes with that type of life. I want her to be certain, to not hold her back. Just give her a little longer to have fun.”

“I understand,” Crow said quietly.

Her door shut.

[battlersexual]

Board Game Showcase #3: Sentinels of the Multiverse

Introduction:

I mentioned in my introduction post for this series that my love of board games only really blossomed when I joined my college’s board game club. This game in particular was actually one of the major reasons why.

Sentinels of the Multiverse is a game about superheroes, but it’s not like any of the multitude of superhero-based board games on the market. Most of those just license actual Marvel or DC superheroes and put them on some other game, like Monopoly or a generic deckbuilder skeleton. Sentinels is something very different: It’s a totally original superhero game, (admittedly very much based on the Marvel-DC characters in a lot of ways) and it’s incredibly fun. Let’s talk about it!

Story:

I’m going to give you the broad strokes here, because trying to tell you the full story of Sentinels would be kind of like trying to summarize the plot of Magic: The Gathering in a single text post. Even with that, this will probably be the longest story segment I write.

In an alternate universe, instead of the Marvel and DC we’re familiar with, the comics publisher that came out on top was Sentinel Comics. Within the world of Sentinel Comics, the stories followed a similar trajectory to ours: the Golden Age where superheroes fought ordinary criminals and nazis, the Silver age with its wacky space shenanigans and superscience nonsense, the more restrained Bronze age where comics started to tackle more serious issues, a brief Dark age where everything was gritty and EXTREEEEEME, and the Modern age, where writers tried to take the best of everything that came before and just tell good stories (perhaps with mixed results, but I’m not a comic critic, so I’ll leave it at that.) The actual card game can best be described as a licensed game set in the Modern age of Sentinel Comics, which just so happens to have fallen through a time portal to our universe.

Overall, the story follows the Freedom Five, an Avengers-esque superhero team working together against all manner of villains, from the moustache-twirling to the downright terrifying. The villains in the game are all structured like crisis crossovers, with a team of supers going up against them. Each expansion to the game introduced part of the ongoing struggle as the comics progressed, culminating in the OblivAeon crisis and the end of the multiverse as we know it.

Obviously there’s more to it, but I want to move on and talk about individual characters later.

Mechanics and more under the cut.

Mechanics:

Sentinels is, technically speaking, a card game instead of a board game. That said, it still falls into the nebulous category of “Tabletop game” and most board game fans consider them board games anyway.

The game is technically 3-5 players, but can easily support 1 and 2 player games by having each player control multiple characters. Each player will pick a hero from the box, along with their deck. For example...

(Legacy is in some ways the most basic hero, so I’ll be using him as an example often.)

Each hero has a character card that gives them an HP value and a base power (In this case, Galvanize). This means the hero always has something they can do no matter which cards they get. Each hero has a unique deck of cards that focuses on their particular niche, Legacy’s being buffing the team and tanking damage.

Heroes generally work on their own, but often excel by teaming up with other heroes and complementing their own powers. Each turn, a player does three things: Play, Power, Draw, in that order. Play a card from their hand, use a power (either their innate power or one listed on an ongoing card) and draw a card. You can skip both play and power to draw two cards instead. If a hero is reduced to 0 HP, they’re not out of the fight yet: the flip side of their card has “Incapacitated abilities” that help the other team members.

(I couldn’t find a good image of Legacy’s incap side, this is from one of the other characters, Fanatic).

Sentinels is a cooperative game: the heroes work together to defeat a villain.

Each villain has their own deck, which acts as a rudimentary AI. Before the heroes get their turn, they flip over the top card of the villain deck and do whatever the card says. Villain cards are often extremely powerful, and can seriously screw over the heroes’ efforts.

In addition to heroes and villains, each game of Sentinels has an Environment. This is a third type of deck that works similarly to the villain deck, but tends to be neutral: I.E. it helps or hurts both the heroes and the villain. The environments range from the city of Megalopolis to the far-off planet Dok’Thorath to the town of Silver Gulch in the year 1883 to a far-future post-apocalyptic earth, each with unique mechanics. The turn order goes villain, heroes, environment before repeating until either the villain or all the heroes are defeated.

Flavor:

An AMAZING amount. You might have noticed that Legacy’s cards have quotes on the bottom referencing a comic he was in. Every card in the game has this, and it’s a joy to piece it all together and figure out what happened in the extensive storyline of Sentinel Comics. The game itself also presents an exciting puzzle where you try to figure out how to get past the villain’s defenses before they kill you. Each hero feels unique and interesting, and once you find your favorite, you’re all set. (Mine is Chrono-Ranger, the time-traveling cowboy).

I do have another particular favorite in terms of flavor, but I... don’t want to mention him. (Too late.) He might show up, and that’s not going to be good for anyone (Hey!) so let’s just move on.

Expansions:

The base game includes ten heroes, four villains, and four environments. This is a pretty good number, but honestly a lot of the most fun heroes arrived in the expansions. I find every new deck to be fun and interesting, so I can blanket-recommend all the expansions, but there’s a lot of them, both big boxes and mini-expansions consisting of a single deck (Like me!), so I’m not going to talk about them individually like before (WHAT?), so let’s just move on to-

No no no no NO! What kind of cop-out is that? You’re just going to tell people that expansions exist and then not explain anything? You make me SICK.

Oh no.

Oh YEAH! That’s right, I’m here to take over this showcase, so why don’t you just sit down in that corner and watch a REAL pro do his job?

Get off my post, Guise.

Not gonna happen! Take this! And this! And some a THESE!

...There we go. Hello, reader! Yep, I’m talking to you, the one reading this now. My name’s Guise, and I’m the best hero in the whole game!

Ha, I love that picture. ANYWAY, since that idiot couldn’t be bothered to cover the expansions properly, I’ll be doing that for him, just for all of you! Aren’t I the greatest? Well, let’s hop to it!

Ahhh, good old Rook City. Nice place, if you like giant mutant rats and government corruption. Which I do, because that stuff is totally X-TREEEEEEEEME!!!

Rook City was originally its own expansion, but the developers released a box that combined it with the next expansion, Infernal Relics! What nice people. Rook City includes two heroes who are almost as X-TREEEEEEEEME!!! as me, as well as two environments and four, count ‘em, FOUR dastardly villains!

Infernal Relics has plenty of spooooooky magic at play, and features another four villains, two environments, and two heroes, one of which is my good friend the Argent Adept! Here, look at this picture of us!

Ha ha, good times.

They did it again! Shattered Timelines and Wrath of the Cosmos, all in one box. How can you turn that down? If you like time travel and space adventures, these are gonna be your jam, with a total of four heroes, eight villains, and four environments, two of which are IN SPACE! Everything’s better in SPACE! Here’s a picture of me, IIIIIIINNNNNNNN SPAAAAAAAAAAAACE!

Oh, and the Shattered Timelines expansion is where that cowboy that the dumb nerd who started this post likes comes from. You know, if you cared. Which you don’t, because you’re cool! Like me! I can tell.

Vengeance added five new heroes, and introduced the TOTALLY AWESOME team villain variant, where instead of fighting one strong villain, you fight a team of weaker villains! This one can get pretty crazy. The set includes the VENGEFUL FIVE, who you can see on the box, and their decks come with all sorts of bit villains and lackeys to torment the heroes! I took a picture with my nemesis, Argentium!

Whooo, that was one tough customer! Luckily, I got him to chill out. Get it? Chill out? Because I froze him, ha ha! I’m hilarious. And awesome!

And then they did more team villains! Villains of the Multiverse has ten new villains for the team mode, four environments, and NO HEROES AT ALL! Well, lucky thing you can still use the ones from the other expansions, hey? I took a picture with a villain to commemorate this one too, but I can’t seem to find it...

Oh, there it is!

And the last major expansion is... OblivAeon! (Dun dun DUUUUUUUUN!) This one adds five heroes (formerly villains! Oooh, exciting!), five environments, and OBLIVAEON himself, with a new game mode centered around fighting him! Not to mention, you get to see ME take center stage as the big hero that saves the multiverse!

(Uh, not really, it was mostly Luminary who-)

Hey, quiet! Don’t go badmouthing me in front of my adoring fans!

Anyway, I’d love to show you my cool new form in this expansion, but that might be a liiiiitle spoiler-y, so I’ll just say I look like THIS, but WAY sexier!

Well, those are all the big expansions, but we’re not done yet! There’s a bunch of mini-expansions, little individual decks you can buy to add one hero, villain, or environment to the game. I’d cover them all, but there’s really only one you need...

That’s right, ME! Hell, you don’t even need the other big expansions when I’m so much better! Not only do you get my awesome character card, you get all the cards I’ve shown you from my deck, as well as the best card ever! No, really, that’s what it’s called!

I mean, come on! You don’t even need the base game! Just buy me, and you’ll have the best part of Sentinels of the Multiverse, all for the low low price of- hey, get off me! Ow! Stop that! HEY!

All right, that’s ENOUGH. Get OUT of my house.

...Whew, he’s finally gone. All right, let’s get on with things.

Replayability:

Sentinels is pretty darn replayable. You’re almost never going to get the same experience, even if you pick the exact same heroes, environment, and villain. If you have all the expansions, you not only get over 60 heroes and 45 villains, but you can get Variants, which replace all the hero cards (and some villains!) with new versions of the characters that have different powers. I’ve never played a game of Sentinels and felt like I’d seen it before. In addition, you can play it alone, so if you can’t have friends over regularly it’s still a good purchase.

Criticisms:

It runs into a similar problem to Cosmic Encounter where the game is SO spread out over so many expansions that the full experience ends up being an expensive and space-consuming prospect. It’s also a very fiddly game, with tons of counters and cards, so it can be a chore to play some of the more complicated characters. Both of these problems have solutions, however.

Availability:

Sentinels is still being sold, as far as I’m aware. It’s also totally available as a mod on Tabletop Sim, although this doesn’t fix the problem with fiddly counters and running out of space for cards, and in fact makes it worse. But there’s another option.

Sentinels of the Multiverse: The Video Game is an official online version of the card game. It includes every expansion as dlc, heavily marked down from its price as a physical item, and takes care of all the tedious bookkeeping for you. It also lets you earn the variant cards by doing challenges in-game, which is super fun, although you don’t HAVE to to unlock them that way. There are weekly challenge games that pit a certain team against a specific villain and environment, which often act as a cool little puzzle, (and you get to hear my amazing voice!) Shut up, Guise. I very occasionally stream games of SotM on my twitch channel, so if there’s enough interest I can show off more of the game. In general, I recommend the video game even if you already own the board game: it’s really well-done and fun to play.

Creators:

This is kind of a special segment. I normally don’t talk about the creators of these games, because they’re usually irrelevant to the final product. However, artist Adam Rebottaro and writer Christopher Badell are incredibly active in the community around their own game, and they have a podcast where they talk about the lore of the game and answer viewer questions about the characters and universe.

It’s a ton of fun, they’re really engaging and you can feel their creativity and love for comics radiating from their voices whenever they talk. They’re super funny, too.

(And if you want more of ME- ah, what am I saying, of course you do! - you can tune in to this episode right here, where I make a special guest appearance to talk about myself!)

Get OUT, Guise!

Ugh, what a pain. Anyway...

Conclusion:

I know superhero stuff is kind of over-saturated right now, but even if you’re sick of superheroes - give Sentinels a try. It’s a celebration of comics more than superheroes in particular, and despite taking a lot of cues from existing superheroes, everything about Sentinels is fresh and fun. It’s one of my favorite co-op games ever, and its story is so well-told that I genuinely feel like I need to go read the comics, which I remind you don’t exist. Sentinels of the Multiverse is brilliant and just plain FUN.

Seriously, go play it, and make sure to use all my cards!

Didn’t I tell you to get out of my house?

[what-if-i-imagine]

Chapter 2

“As others saw—I could not bring”

-Alone, by Edgar Allan Poe

“Lieutenant, it really is an honor to have your son attending our school, we know how many other schools you most likely considered after all,” my new principal rushed, obviously trying not to show how excited he was.

We were in his office and I was sitting in one of those unbearably uncomfortable plastic chairs, watching as they talked. Only a few students were actually at the school this early, most of which looked as exhausted as I felt.

“The honor is ours Principal Morita,” Rhodey smiled that fake smile that he and my other three guardians had taught me a long time ago. They weren’t the first to teach me it though, my mom was.

I once saw her smile that way to a man who was hitting on her at the playground. He was going on about how awful his life was, and her only response was, “Well bless your heart. I need to be going now, but it was lovely speaking with you.”

That night at home she told me to always pretend to be listening. No matter how much I got annoyed or board, I should at least pretend. If I couldn’t pretend anymore, all I had to do was whip out that southern charm, and say a insult disguised and sugar coated as a compliment. It should always sound harmless and sweet, even when it meant something vulgar.

Pepper was very proud of me when an adult was talking down to me during a business meeting she had to drag me to. I just smiled that fake smile a said “Well ain’t that nice.” The man started yelling at me, saying I was being disrespectful, while the rest of the meeting tried to calm him down because it had seemed like I was being kind. Once he stoped yelling I said “I’m sorry if I offended you sir, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Harley,” Rhodey pulled me out o the memory.

I stood up quickly and shook the principal’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Harley,” he managed a smile, though seemed confused by the accent. I guess not everyone was in loop with tabloids that reported me being from Tennessee. “If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, I actually have a student who will be showing you around the school.”

“Sounds good to me,” I rocked on my heals and looked at Rhodey, suddenly feeling like I was five, going to my first day of kindergarten. “Are you gonna stay?”

“I’m sorry Harley, I can’t,” he hugged me quickly. “Happy is picking you up from school, so just look for his car.”

“Okay,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

Watching him walk away, I got hit by a feeling of anxiety and loneliness. I had never worried this much about him coming home safe. I was always at the compound, watching over a monitor so that I was assured he and Tony were safe, but this time I couldn’t do that. This was also the first time in years I would be apart from my guardians for hours at a time.

It’s weird how the first day of school can be so scary, even at fifteen.

I sat back down and listened to the principal as he explained the rules of the school. We were just waiting for the student’s bus to arrive, so that I could get my schedule and take the tour of the school.

“What last name do you go by?” He asked as if it were a harmless, easy to answer, question. It was far from.

I didn’t want to go by Keener because of my dad, but at the same time, it was my mother and sister’s last names. Stark would draw a lot of attention, as would Potts since both of them are famous. Strange would just earn me another reason to be picked on, plus, Harley Strange sounded... strange.

“Harley Rhodes,” I settled on.

“Is the lieutenant your father?”

“No sir.”

“Your uncle?”

“No sir. He’s one of my guardians.”

He seemed to understand after that point that I didn’t really want to talk about it. I appreciated that.

“Sorry I’m late Mr. Morita,” a boy said, running into the office. “My bus got held up.”

“It’s okay,” the principal sighed. “Mr. Rhodes, this is your partner for today. You share the same schedule, so he can keep you company. Introduce yourself.”

“Flash Thompson,” the boy held out his hand for me. I stood and shook it.

“Harley K- Rhodes,” I introduced myself.

I was about an inch taller than the boy, being 5’7’’, but for some reason it felt like I was smaller than I really was. I got a burst of fear, remembering that this was how EJ used to make me feel.

“Come with me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the stuffy office. “I figured I could show you the library, computer lab, cafeteria and bathrooms right now. I’ll just show you the classes as we go to them if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said, following a step behind so I would have enough room to run if I had to.

He showed me each place he said he would, progressively making me put my guard down. He was shockingly nice, but I guess I thought that because I got his humor. He was sarcastic, and I could tell he was using it as a coping mechanism like me. I wondered what it was he was trying to cope with, but didn’t ask.

“Eating outside is better than inside,” he explained. “Never be the kid who spends lunch in the library or gym, that will just get you bullied. Plus, outside you can watch all the nerds make fools of themselves with failed rockets.”

I smiled a bit, hearing buried in his voice that he genuinely liked watching the rockets, “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks for all this.”

He stopped short, and I almost ran into him. He was looking down, but from what I could see, he looked upset.

“Can I admit something to you?”

I found the question odd, but nodded anyways.

“I didn’t really want to do this, I’m only doing it to get out of detention,” he looked up at me a bit, but looked back down. “I had originally planned to ditch you at the library and let you find your own way around the school.”

“What changed your mind?” My own question caught him off guard. He must have expected me to be mad.

“You turned out to be funny,” he shrugged. “You got my sarcasm and didn’t get all up tight about it. I guess... I started to think maybe you would be a cool friend to have.”

“And you’re telling me this because you don’t like to lie to your friends,” I assumed.

He told me I was right, and I smiled a bit, genuinely this time. I let him continue leading me around the school until the bell rung, feeling like a wall had been kicked down for me. A friend would be really nice right now.

—-

During PE, something changed with Flash.

We had spent the day sitting with each other in classes, talking during passing period. It was really nice to have someone to vent to about the crap show that was my life, and he was obviously relieved to have someone he could just be himself with. But in PE, he wasn’t being himself.

“Hey Penis Parker,” he said to a boy passing by. He was a little taller than me, but only as much as I was taller than Flash. The boy looked annoyed when he half turned to us.

“Hey Flash,” he said like he wasn’t interested.

I looked between my new friend and the boy like I had just gotten hit by a bus. It was such a mood switch when Flash saw this boy that I wasn’t sure what to do.

“Don’t make an ass of yourself this early, Eugene,” a girl standing by the boy said, not looking up from her book.

Flash looked like he had been slapped from the use of his real name, “Whatever Michelle.”

The girl, Michelle, looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow at him.

A Filipino boy stood with the two, looking just as annoyed. He and the other boy’s body language told me they probably used to be afraid of Flash, but weren’t anymore.

The Filipino boy took notice of me first, “Hey, you know you don’t have to hang out with this guy, right?”

“I want to,” I spoke up, making all of them look at me like I was crazy.

“He means he has to,” Flash rushed to correct me. “The principal said so. I’m his tour guide.”

“I thought I hadn’t seen you around the school,” Michelle noted.

The first boy was looking at me like he was trying to figure out where he knew me from. Recognition flashed across his face when his friend said, “Aren’t you Tony Stark’s secret son?”

“No,” I kept my eyes on the first boy. “I mean, kinda. He’s one of my guardians.”

“Tony Stark is your guardian?” Flash turned to me wide eyed.

I shrunk a bit, “Yeah.”

“Peter works for Mr. Stark,” the Filipino boy said, referring to the boy Flash had called Penis Parker. The pun made since now.

I nodded slowly, not recognizing the boy, though the name Peter Parker was familiar. Tony had mentioned him once or twice now that I really though of it. Happy had also mentioned an incident that happened with the same kid a few months ago, something about a villain they hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard your name,” I admitted, keeping a straight face. “You were the intern that was there when Tony proposed to Pepper, right?”

“I was,” Peter nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, and I feel like I should.”

“Harley,” I said. “Tony and Pepper try to keep me out of public eye for the most part, so don’t feel too bad.”

Peter’s eyes suddenly became pitiful when he heard my name, “Oh... now that I put two and two together, I do recognize that name. Happy once picked me up from my apartment, and Mr. Stark was on the phone with a doctor-“

“Yeah,” I cut him off. “Well, now that that’s sorted out, can my friend and I continue our conversation?”

Michelle eyed me for a moment, then started walking, cueing for the other two to start walking with her.

“What was all that about?” I looked at Flash once they were out of ear shot. “Penis Parker?”

Flash shrunk back and shrugged, keeping his eyes forward, “I used to bully him. Old habits die hard, but I’m trying to get better. He luckily never let what I said get to him.”

“Well, if you wanna keep being friends, that kinda thing can’t be happenings,” I said sternly. I couldn’t risk another EJ being in my life, especially when this guy looked like he was screaming for help.

“It stops now,” he promised quickly. “I won’t ever do it again. Or anything like it. I’ll even apologize.”

“Good.”

And I felt good. Knowing that all it took was a few words, and he would stop. It had been a long time since someone cared that much and wasn’t family.

[randomoranges]

i lost a friendly wager last night. we agreed to soft. then i was told historical period costumes and or baking. (because i historical period costumes are not in my drawing range.) i offered words and they were accepted. this idea sprouted.

a whole brand new au world for a friendly wager i lost.

liberties were taken.

i can chat your ear off with this dumb new au. 

@allbeendonebefore here are your winnings. 

O Come, All Ye Faithful [In Excelsis Deo]

 Edward takes out the last tray of gingerbread people from the oven and places the tray to cool. He removes his oven mitts and apron, before loading the last items into the dishwasher and then starts it. He is about to call out to his partner, to ask him where the decorating kit with the brushes are (because that’s his partner’s job – even if they always end up decorating together – because Edward likes to spend time with him,) when said partner lets out a string of curses. Amused, Edward peers into the eating area to find Étienne re-stringing the sewing machine for what must be the nineteenth time this past hour.

 Edward spares one of his gingerbread folk and plates it, before making his way to where Étienne is working, figuring he could use a break before he chucks the sewing machine and work-in-progress out their living room window.

 “Careful, dear,” He starts, putting the plate down, “The sewing machine hears you when you curse at it. I find that gentle encouragement works best.”

 Étienne grumbles something under his breath, which sounds a lot like “waste of time” and “it should know better,” before he sits up and leans away from the table. Edward takes the hint and cozies himself up on Étienne’s lap. He brushes back a long strand of curly brown hair away from Étienne’s face and tucks it behind his ear. Étienne sighs and leans into Edward’s chest, defeated.

 “Remind me again why this was a good idea,” He mumbles and Edward chuckles softly, rubbing his beau’s back.

 This is a historically accurate late nineteenth century dress, with all the intricate patterns, jewels, beads, and details that come with it (with some modern alterations, because Edward needs to be able to actually get out of the dress) that Étienne decided to make from scratch. He researched the design, stayed up late more nights than Edward is probably aware of, spent every waking moment on the garment, he even took out his grandmother’s old sewing machine for it, and all because Edward has a show at the end of the month and Edward deserves the absolute best, even if it kills him. Or so Étienne says and believes.

 Étienne is a stubborn, mule-headed idiot and Edward absolutely loves him.

 The fool.

 Edward still remembers the day they met. (Étienne always tells the story better.)

 It happened a really long time ago – it feels like it happened centuries ago, but back then, Edward’s main source of income comes from the drag shows he participates in. He enjoys the performative aspect of it, likes the fact that he can explore different facets of himself and likes how free it makes him feel. He has worked hard creating his persona, has worked hard on his performance, and even though he isn’t the Greatest Drag Queen to ever grace the planet, he is quite good, if he says so himself and he has a small following, which he thinks is endearing – when he lets himself admit to it.

 The story goes that on a dreary November evening, Étienne happened to be sitting in the small cabaret where Edward was performing that very same night. Étienne had gone there with his friends, since he did not usually frequent such places, and it actually turned out to be his very first experience assisting a drag performance.

 Then, the moment Edward (well, at the time Étienne didn’t know his name was Edward – all he knew was that this performer was Klondike Kate) stepped out on stage, in his beautiful flowing dress with the poofy sleeves, perfectly made up hair (was it real, was it a wig? It was hard to tell), outrageous, gorgeous hat, and elaborate makeup, Étienne’s heart stopped beating for a second. When the lights dimmed down low and the first few notes of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” played, Étienne’s breath stilled. And then, when Edward started singing, in that perfect voice of his, swaying gently to the music, Étienne forgot to breathe all together.

 When Étienne tells the story, he adds that after Klondike Kate’s number, he rushed out of the cabaret to find the nearest anything that would sell flowers to buy a bouquet. There was a dep across the street and Étienne swears a car almost hit him as he ran to the store. Edward is never sure if that part is true or exaggerated, but he doesn’t interrupt and lets the story go. Étienne recounts how the only flowers the dépanneur had were a sad looking bouquet with three roses that had seen better days and a few other yellow flowers he couldn’t name, but how it had to do and so he got it, using the last twenty-dollar bill he had in his pocket.

 (There is a part to this story that no one knows – not even Étienne – and that’s that Edward still has those flowers. He pressed them between the pages of an old book and he lovingly preserved them, all these years later.)

 The story ends with Étienne somehow or other making his way backstage after the show and finding the door to Klondike Kate’s dressing room. He says he didn’t have to bribe anyone, that his charms and good looks granted him passage alone and that as long as anyone acts confident and as though they know what they’re doing, it’s fine. Edward always has more questions at that part, but it’s such a good tale that he keeps his mouth shut and listens. (He’s heard the story so many times by now, but it’s his favourite.)

 Quite frankly, Edward was actually quite startled when he opened his dressing room door to find such a strapping young man standing in front of it with a partial besotted look upon him, but what had really gotten him was that this stranger had been able to just – waltz in without getting caught.

 Edward had blinked, curious, and Étienne had fumbled something about having just attended the show and how great he thought Klondike Kate had been and what a voice he (she?) had and well – he wanted to congratulate him (her?) in person and – yeah this was kind of weird, and he was not usually such a mess, but he is impulsive and so please accept these flowers as a token of congratulations.

 Before Edward even had a chance to say anything, Étienne had bolted out (in Étienne’s words, walked out quickly and obviously, smoothly), leaving one very perplexed Edward behind, flowers in hand.

 Edward thought for sure that this was the end of his strange suitor? Fan? Admirer? Crazy stalker??, but he still put the flowers in a vase, still brought them home, and still carefully dried all of them out – for some reason. (He didn’t always get flowers and not even his last boyfriend had bothered, so, really, the gesture was nice.)

 He more or less forgot about the stranger and continued living his life, preparing for his shows, but Étienne became a returning customer. He went to every show, cheered the loudest (not that Edward could tell), but he made sure to sit at the far back, away from the lights and from where Klondike Kate could see him. The plan was to keep a safe distance and admire from afar, but sometimes, the universe has strange plans.

 And so, towards the end of January, after a show, Étienne walked up to the bus stop and he was quietly smoking a cigarette, replaying his favourite parts of the show in his mind, when Edward (whose car was in the shop and who couldn’t be bothered to hail a cab when he literally had a five minute commute from here and knew the bus would be here in four minutes max) showed up in his line of sight.

 “It’s you!” Edward said and Étienne’s eyes had widened as he tried to find something intelligent to say. “You’re the flower guy!” Edward added.

 “Étienne – actually, my name is Étienne,” He tried, offering a shy, timid smile and Edward was surprised, if endeared and he laughed over the ridiculousness of the whole affair.

 “And I’m Edward, actually, my name is Edward,” He added with a smile of his own, extending his hand.

 Étienne wraps up the story at that point, usually. He says they became friends after that, before he finally found the courage to ask Edward out after a show, one day and that the rest is history. It’s mostly true. Mostly, because there’s the part where they both missed their bus stop because they were too busy talking. Mostly, because they walked all the way back to Edward’s place (Étienne didn’t want to let him go alone). Mostly, because Edward really wanted to invite him back inside afterwards for anything – even if it was just talking. Mostly, because at the time Étienne was seeing someone (even though it was complicated and mostly on its way out, but it wouldn’t be right). Mostly, because by the time Étienne was single again, Edward was seeing someone. Mostly, because even though they became fast friends and spent whatever time they had together, Étienne asked him to dinner the night Edward’s boyfriend dumped him and for the longest time, Edward thought he was using Étienne as a rebound. (And if that’s the case, then Étienne is at least a twelve year old rebound.)

 They’ve grown, since then. They own the place they live in (somehow) and they do grownup things like pay bills, talk about their mortgage, and clean out the filters of the wall unit three times a year. Étienne has a real job now. He’s not a student anymore. (Not like when they met.) Edward also has a real job now, but he still does drag every so often. He likes it. He likes being Klondike Kate. He likes mentoring the new queens. (He calls them his little princesses. They love it. Étienne thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Étienne still goes to every show. He brings Edward a bouquet after every show. It’s a much nicer bouquet than that first one. In fact, he’s only ever missed a grand total of six shows and he hates himself for it. Edward tells him every time to chill, he had valid reasons. Étienne doesn’t want to hear a word of it. It’s infuriatingly endearing. And annoying as hell.)

 He likes the friends he’s made, the community he’s found and the sense of belonging he gets from performing. Klondike Kate can say things Edward can’t blurt out whenever and wherever. Klondike Kate can wear nice dresses, heels, makeup, and pretty gloves. Klondike Kate gets attention he never wants as Edward. Klondike Kate let’s Étienne dote on her as much as he wants. (Edward does as well, but sometimes he wants to dote on Étienne and Étienne is a stubborn old goat he loves very much.) It’s a strange dichotomy and he loves it. He loves sitting in front of his vanity and applying his makeup. He loves watching his transformation from Edward to Klondike Kate. (He loves sitting at his vanity and having Étienne gently remove the makeup from his face, transforming him back, at the end of every show. It’s a ritual. He wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.)

 The cabaret he’s been performing at for the past ten years is putting on a special show for the holiday season – something authentic and historical and the owner politely asked Edward if he would like to perform. It’s a part special, part retrospective, part throw off for the end of the decade and part whatever the queens want it to be. Edward says yes almost immediately and he then thinks of what he can do – what he can wear. He has his usual dresses and costumes – his usual numbers. His favourites and easy go-tos. But then he thinks of the meaning behind Klondike Kate – what she means to him, why he picked her name, and he figures he can really put on a show.

 It’s when Étienne comes up with the crazy idea to make him a period accurate dress.

 Edward laughs at his idea – because he thinks Étienne is joking.

 Étienne already has his sketchbook out and is looking at images on his tablet, jotting things down, saving reference photos, looking at past photos of Edward’s costumes as well. Watching Étienne work is a dizzying affair. He’s in five places at the same time. Edward knows not to kill off such creative energy, so he tells him not to get in too deep and lets him be.

 It was a mistake, obviously.

 It’s a good thing Edward wasn’t there to see him work at the library.

 It’s how nine days before the show Étienne is still fighting with the sewing machine (because Edward is the one who’s good with the sewing machine – Étienne learnt it for fun a few years back – after he brought home his grandmother’s old sewing machine) and he’s cursing about beads and jewels (because Klondike Kate deserves the greatest, poofiest dress ever). It’s not that Edward does not try to make this easier for his beau – he tries, oh he tries to get Étienne to reconsider – they could take one of Edward’s old costumes and make alterations to it, but Étienne is and always has been stubborn.

 So Étienne has hand sewn the jewels and the beads, has measured once and twice (and thrice) has cursed and pricked his fingers, has sat down with the old sewing machine and with time, the dress has slowly taken shape. Slowly.

 “You said something about wanting to make me the greatest dress ever known, dear,” He reminds Étienne, who nods sagely and picks at the sleeve he has apparently been having trouble with.

 “Yes, that’s right and you’ll look absolutely stunning in it.” He says with all the sincerity of the world.

 Edward’s cheeks pink ever so and Étienne grins. He’s ridiculous and Edward loves him so.

 “Think you’ll be done before the actual show?” He teases to regain his footing. Étienne pushes up his glasses and studies his work – the dark mauve of the fabric, the sleeves, the bodice with the lace and the jewels and the beads. He’s pensive and serious, but Edward spots a hint of a smile and knows that Étienne is messing with him now.

 “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’ll be done by this summer, you see, there’s a handsome fellow sitting on my lap and I simply cannot do anymore work,” He adds, mock serious and Edward playfully hits his arm.

 “Need I remind you that you’ve been complaining about this all day. I came to see you in your time of need to bring you comfort and joy in the form of my company and a cookie, but if this is the thanks I get...” He tries to get off, but Étienne is quicker and wraps his arms around him tightly, trapping him in place.

 “And I am ever so grateful for such an offering. With it, I’ll be able to complete this dress from hell by the end of the evening – hopefully.”

 Edward pecks his nose in thanks but remains seated on Étienne’s lap for a moment longer. He likes it here – it’s nice and comfortable.

 “Think you can model this one for me, after?” Étienne asks, looking up at him.

 Edward nuzzles their noses together and smiles, “Of course – when have I not?”

 FIN

[gwenbrightly]

Maybe

Cross posted from ffnet. Hello everyone! Welcome to the fic that was supposed to be my Valentines Day special… But… I'm not great with deadlines, so it's a few days late. "Maybe" is centered around Kai and Skylor, and takes place between s4 and s5. I've taken some liberties here with how Master Chen's Noodle House operates, and a few other things, but I really hope you enjoy my first attempt at writing Kailor! It was definitely interesting, trying to find the right balance between awkward dorkiness and adorable fluff, but I had a lot of fun writing this, as random as it turned out! Enjoy!

________________________________________________________________

Skylor stared balefully at her watch, silently willing the meeting she was currently in the middle of to reach its end before she got driven insane. The past month had been an exhausting, chaotic mess for her, and she was ready for it to be over. Following her father's banishment to the cursed realm, she had begun fighting to rebuild his noodle empire in a much less criminally inclined way. There had been little time to relax; she'd barely been able to appreciate the fact that she was living on her own terms for the first time in her life before being thrust into the process of orchestrating the many changes that needed to be made. Countless hours had been dedicated to debating and discussing, interviewing and observing, adjusting and questioning. All in the hopes of giving those associated with the many branches of the popular restaurant a chance at a new beginning. And it was nice, to have a purpose. But there were times where she debated whether or not she was actually making any headway.

"But if we reconfigure our employee rights policy as you have proposed, production may be negatively effected, which will most certainly lead to a significant decrease in profit..." A representative from one of the noodle factories pointed out, not at all pleased with the adjustments the redhead had just described. Sometimes she wondered if the individual in question wanted her to fail. She could've sworn she heard someone grunt in agreement. The bespectacled young women across the table from her glanced up from her Borg tablet in concern. Skylor shook her head. Best not to let this situation get out of hand.

"I am aware of that, Mr. Millers. I've already told you multiple times that I am more than prepared to deal with the consequences of any adjustments we make as long as it allows us to give Master Chen's Noodle House the positive reputation it deserves. So, really, I'm not sure why you've brought this up again." She said with a sigh. How much longer before she could retreat to the safety of her apartment? 10, 15 more minutes?

"Miss Chen has made great progress over the past few weeks. Just think of how popular the puffy potstickers have become since she decided to put them back on the menu." June, her recently hired assistant manager added quietly. Yes, she had made the right decision in selecting this girl to join her tightly knit team of employees, even if she was rather soft spoken.

"I am merely... concerned that these changes have not been thought out sufficiently. This business has existed for decades... It would be a shame if someone were to... Run it into the ground with unrealistic dreams..." The man replied in an oily tone, giving her a very fake smile. Skylor frowned. Such behavior was only going to make the meeting more tedious. It was official. He definitely wouldn't mind seeing her slip up.

"First of all, the lack of pay and deplorable working conditions seen in many of our more rural factories could be considered illegal, as I'm sure you know, and second of all, don't think I'm oblivious to what you are insinuating. I had hoped that your expertise and years of experience would be beneficial in reforming my father's business, but if you continue to undermine my judgement and fight me at every turn, I will be forced to ask you to leave." She informed Mr. Millers with a pointed stare. He deflated slightly but didn't seem overly thrilled to have been called out on his behavior.

"...As you wish, Ms. Chen..." For now.

"Good." Skylor declared forcefully, sharing an exasperated look with June, " I propose that we begin implementing adjustments as planned, then. To start with, all workers will now be entitled to a 15 minute break every three hours, and a half an hour break after five. Shifts will be no longer than nine hours, and we are increasing pay to minimum wage. All in favor?" She and June raised their hands immediately. The head delivery truck driver, quality control specialist, and several faculty members hailing from various locations, joined them, eventually, leaving a disgruntled Mr. Millers and one additional factory representative as the only opposers.

"That's eight for and two against. Sorry, Mr. Millers, but it looks like majority wins in this case." Skylor's assistant declared, hurriedly typing the results of the vote for posterity. She didn't appear even remotely apologetic about this turn of events.

"Thank you, everyone, for being so flexible. I know we've experienced a lot of changes lately, but I truly believe they will help make Master Chen's more successful in the long run. Now, is there anything else we need to discuss? I know many of you have families to get home to, so I'd prefer not to drag this meeting out any more than we have to, especially on a Saturday." Skylor commented with a relieved smile. Almost finished...

"I vote we call it quits. Today's supposed to be date night with the wife." Offered the truck driver. The others nodded their assent. Even those who were dissatisfied with the outcome of the meeting were ready to depart.

"Okay, then. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'll see all of you next week, alright?" The redhead called as conference room exploded into a flurry of chairs being pushed forward and paperwork being packed away.

"Phew. Glad that's over." June told her, watching everyone leave.

"Yep. We survived another run in with the infamous Mr. Millers."

"He sure is determined to throw you to the sharks... I don't know how you do it..."

"It isn't easy, but I'm sure he'll come around. Eventually. Or he'll just straight up quit. But it helps to have such a good team on my side." Skylor replied, elbowing her, "You've been a great help in getting everything organized. I really appreciate all your hard work. And June? Tell Chad I say hello... I can see his car in the parking lot." The assistant manager's cheeks flushed.

"Oh. O-of course. See you tomorrow... Please try to relax a little. I don't wanna end up having to run this place all by myself if you overwork yourself to death..."

"No promises, but I'll try. Now get yourself outta here – don't need keep that boyfriend of yours waiting, right? " The young woman told her friend, practically shoving her out the door.

"Okay, okay. I'm going. Bye!"

"Bye." At least one of them had something enjoyable to do with the remainder of the afternoon.

"Miss Chen? A-are you leaving? There's a customer who's been asking for you for the past half an hour…" The waitress who had suddenly appeared by her side informed her. Skylor cursed her luck. It looked like relaxation would have to wait.

"Where?" She asked, exhaling deeply.

"The corner booth over by the window. You can't miss him…" The waitress replied, pointing. Better get this over with, then, she thought, wandering towards the table she'd been directed to. The master of amber took her time, reluctant to engage in another potentially frustrating conversation.

"Hello? Someone said you wanted to see me… is there a problem?" She inquired, drawing closer.

"Oh, there's no problem," The person replied casually, turning so she could see their face, "I just wanted to talk to the prettiest restaurant owner in all of Ninjago City, that all." And then recognition dawned on her.

"Kai?" Skylor gasped in surprise.

"The one and only. Do you have time to talk for bit?" The spiky haired ninja smiled widely.

"Uh... Sure, definitely. It's been awhile... How have you been since the tournament?" She commented, eagerly slipping onto the bench opposite his.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Trying to keep Cole and Jay from killing each other. Making sure Lloyd actually sleeps at night and isn't living entirely off of peach rings. Solving minor problems for civilians. You hear about that bank robbery last week? Yeah, that was us." Kai told her with a shrug. The redhead's eyes widened.

"Wow, really? Sounds like you've been busy, then."

"Yeah. That's why I wasn't able to visit sooner – though I really wanted to... Especially since Master Wu's decided he wants to try his hand at tea making. He's got all of us helping him remodel Garmadon's old monastery so he can use it as a teashop." She wished he had been able to drop by before now, but she'd take what she could get.

"Oh. That's... That's an interesting decision. How is Lloyd taking it?" He looked a touch guilty, probably worried about his honorary brother. She'd gotten the impression that they were an extremely close-knit family. What would it be like to be part of something like that? Skylor wondered.

"It's hard to tell. He says he's just happy to have his team back together again... We're hoping he really is cool with it, but… getting him to talk about his feelings is like pulling teeth sometimes..."

"Yeesh. Sounds about right from what I've seen of him."

"Basically… But enough about me and my crazy family drama, even if I do admit to being a little worried about the kid. How has life been treating you these days?" Kai questioned (after all, he had come to see her, and she clearly needed to de-stress).

"It's been… hectic, to say the least. You wouldn't believe the number of sketchy business agreements my father made while he was still… around… I've been trying to undo most of them, but it takes time… and, well… there are people who are definitely not gung-ho about all the changes I'm making…" Skylor disclosed with a weary sigh. The master of fire reached across the table and clasped her hands.

"That sucks. I'm sure it'll get better soon, though. You have a that crazy way of winning people over with minimal effort. Few can resist your powers of persuasion." Was it just her, or was the room suddenly much hotter than it had been before?

"Thanks, but not everyone feels the way you do… I just hope it blows over soon. These weekend meetings – that's where I was when you got here – they're killing me… I've barely had time to sleep, let alone enjoy the city…"

"Sounds like you need to get away more… D-do you wanna… Go do something with me to get your mind off of everything?" Kai offered. Skylor froze for a second.

"A-are you asking me out? Like on a date?" She found herself saying, immediately cursing herself for being so forward. This… Dynamic between the two of them was difficult to define. They'd grown incredibly close while on her father's island, but then… she just wasn't quite sure where they stood now…

"Er… Maybe��? I-if you want it to be? I mean, we never did get to play tourist, so…? What I'm saying is… I enjoy you and I… I'd love to spend more time together…and… " The spiky haired young man rambled, smiling awkwardly. His cheeks were noticeably rosier than before. Oh. Yes, she would most certainly be interested in doing so.

"Okay, then… I'd love to go on a maybe date with you, Kai. Thanks for asking." She decided, smirking. His face brightened.

"Great! This is great! So… Uh, when are you free?"

"Say the word and I can be ready in five minutes?"

"Really?"

"Sure. Just lemme grab my purse. That should give you plenty of time to figure out what we're doing…" Skylor said, untangling her hands from Kai's and heading for her office. So, her weekend wouldn't be as tedious as she'd been expecting after all.

______________________________________________________________

"You know, it's gonna be a little hard for me to get out of your car with my eyes shut…" The redhead complained a bit later as she felt the vehicle come to a stop. She could hear the sound of Kai's laughter from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't face plant."

"That's such a comfort, Kai. Really, I feel much better knowing you're there to catch me..." Skylor replied, resisting the urge to peek. He ignored her sass in favor of exiting the car and slipping around to the passenger side.

"Here," The master of fire said, grabbing her hand and helping her step onto the asphalt outside.

"So, you gonna tell me where we are?" She asked, ready to be permitted to open her eyes again.

"Nope. Not yet. I want it to be a surprise." Her companion informed her. Kai gently gripped her elbow to keep her from losing her way. He was certainly taking this seriously given how spur of the moment it had been. It was kind of adorable.

"It's just a little further." Together, they wandered towards the unknown destination.

"I'm trusting you that when I finally get to open my eyes , I won't be standing in the middle of a sewage system or something." Joked Skylor as the master of fire's pace slowed.

"Geez, I'm not that mean… and I'll have you know that Ninjago City's sewers are actually a very interesting place to explore." He started defensively, "Though, on second thought, we'd probably both rather not run into any Serpentine right now, so. Guess I can't really judge too much…"

"I was kidding, dork. But yeah, maybe save that for another time?"

"Well, uh… We're here, so, you can look now." Kai stated awkwardly.

"Whoah. S' bright out here…" The girl blinked furiously. He slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, you see, that's what you get for spending all day inside that restaurant of yours dealing with prickly business men. No time to enjoy the sun." She seriously contemplated whipping him in the face with her ponytail, but ultimately chose not to. Looking around, she caught sight of the rather large sign just in front of them.

"I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I've been pretty much blind since we left the restaurant… The Ninjago City Zoo, huh?"

"I-is this okay? It was the first thing I thought of, and-" The master of fire inquired nervously.

"It's totally fine. I've been meaning to come here, anyway. It'll be way more fun when I've got someone to enjoy it with." She assured him with a smile. Kai returned the smile in relief.

"Shall we?" They linked arms and pressed forward, joining the surprisingly short line of people waiting to get in.

Entrance fee paid, the two soon found themselves standing near a large map with arrows pointing to the various attractions and areas within the park.

"So. There's a peacock on the loose. Should I be concerned?" Skylor observed, attention temporarily drawn away from their discussion of which route to take. Kai glanced where she was looking. A very self satisfied bird was currently strutting about, fanning its brilliant feathers for all to see. Several children followed it in fascination. He snapped a picture on his phone to show the others later.

"Nah, it's pretty common for one to be wandering around like that. They're super tame. You're not, like, allergic or anything, right?" She shook her head.

"Nope. It's just… My father tried to keep one as a pet when I was little, and I guess I've never really…"

"Tried?" Her eyes lit up at the question.

"Well, we only had it for a few weeks. It absolutely hated Clouse – I don't know what he did to anger it – but it was always chasing him down the hallways screeching and stuff? Let me tell you, those things may be beautiful to look at, but they make the worst noises imaginable. It was hilarious to watch, though. He'd just be minding his own business, and that stupid bird would come flying at him like he'd murdered its young." The redhead explained, giggling as she remembered the man's plight.

"Seriously? That's priceless?" Kai declared, laughing with her.

"Yeah, and you should've seen how many times he complained about it, too. He was always like, Master, your pet just tried to make me into a pincushion again. Why do you insist on putting up with such a ridiculous creature? Don't you have a button to make it go away? And my father would just go on and on about how glorious its feathers were and how it was worth more than all of Clouse's hair dye collection."

"Wait-Clouse dyed his hair?" Kai wheezed.

"Ooh, now I'm giving away all my dark family secrets. Better watch out, or I'll start spilling the secret recipe for puffy pot stickers or something…" She teased.

"So, what happened to it?"

"Darn thing ended up being released into the wild. Father couldn't bring himself to get rid of it completely, you know, just in case he ended up needing a way to mess with Clouse again… I think it's still on the island somewhere. Used to see it every once in awhile when I went hiking and stuff."

"That has to be one of the coolest stories I've heard in a long time." The master of fire asserted.

"It's… something, alright." Skylor admitted, "Where to first?"

"Have you ever seen a camel?"

As it turned out, while Master Chen's island had contained a variety of exotic creatures, Skylor had in fact, never been near a camel before. So, of course, the spiky haired ninja was more than happy to change that.

"C'mon Skylor, I have a great idea." He informed her, dragging her down the pathway, at breakneck speed, dodging other people as they went.

"Could we maybe slow down a bit?" She panted.

"Sorry, no can do. We don't wanna be late for feeding time. You'll be missing out on a pretty cool opportunity if we do."

"Wait… What?"

They arrived at the exhibit just as the zookeeper began explaining procedures for meal time interaction.

"If you just hold out your hand like this," The zookeeper demonstrated, pressing some treats into their hands. Apparently Skylor was going to be getting up close and personal with the large mammal.

"Nice and steady, Brenda, here, probably won't spit on you."

"Probably." The redhead commented, bemused.

"Yeah, these are her favorite treats."

"What am I even doing right now?" She pondered, turning to Kai.

"Having fun. Duh."

"You won't be saying that if the camel spits on you." Skylor pointed out.

"The chances of that happening are like, super slim. In all the times I've been here before, it's never even come close to being a problem. And besides, I'll still look awesome, even if I do end up with spit in my hair." He insisted cockily.

"Whatever you say, fire boy." She said, finally following the zookeeper's instructions. Hand held out, she watched as the camel approached her. Luckily, Brenda was only interested in daintily consuming the offering of food that was being presented to her, and refrained from salivating on anyone. She nudged the redhead's shoulder playfully when she was finished, looking for more food.

"Sorry," Skylor told the creature, "That's all I got. Go bug Kai. He still has some."

"See? She's just a big softie…" The master of fire stated, letting the camel nibble on the treats he held.

"Yeah, kinda like someone else I know." She replied with an innocent smirk. He raised an eyebrow.

"No clue who that could be..."

"Course' not. Thank you for letting us participate in this. It was surprisingly fun." The girl commented to the zookeeper as they made their departure.

"Okay, you get to choose where we're going this time." Kai stated, linking arms with her.

"You sure you wanna trust me with that? I might make you visit your brethren the porcupines."

" First it was hedgehogs, and now this? Why does everyone always want to compare me to prickly animals?" He groaned in mock irritation, continuing to wander down the trail.

"Well, I mean, you could always restyle your hair?" She suggested.

"Never! I like it the way it is."

"Who am I to stand in your way, then? C'mon, the lions should be just up ahead." They walked in companionable silence, enjoying the nice weather and the distraction from their chaotic lives. Several hours were spent exploring the zoo. Kai showed her all the best places to stand in order to get the perfect view of the animals. Skylor's phone quickly filled with pictures. Good natured teasing was shot back any forth. The sun had begun to set by the time they'd seen everything there was to see. An afternoon well spent, for both of them.

________________________________________________________________"Hey Sky?" Kai called softly, shaking the sleeping redheads shoulder, "Skylor? We're here."

"Wuh?" She asked blearily, running at her eyes. The day's events had clearly wiped her out.

"We're just outside your apartment. You fell asleep pretty much as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot."

"Oh." She was home already?

"Yeah. But that's okay… I mean, we did do an awful lot of walking, and I know you were already tired before we even left Master Chen's, so…" He assured her.

"Hey, Kai?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For today, I mean. It was… It was nice to get away for awhile. With you."

"It was" He agreed, wishing the moment could last longer.

"Let's try not to wait so long between visits next time, okay? I-I missed you…" The girl admitted. Next time?

"I missed you, too… I'll do my best to drop by more often." Promised the master of fire. Skylor shot him a weary grin.

"Well. Good. I, uh… I'll text you?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Goodbye," She said, giving him a side hug. It only lasted for a second, but it was full of warmth.

"Bye. I… I hope things with your restaurant calm down soon…" Kai stated.

"Me too. Good luck with the tea business. Maybe I'll drop by sometime."

"I'd like that." Reluctantly climbing from the vehicle, Skylor gave one last wave before heading inside. Although it would end up being awhile before either of them were ready (or able) to commit to anything official, this day would always be locked in their memories as one of the best moments in the beginnings of their relationship. Their lives would be busy, and filled with danger, but, eventually, they would find their way. Almost as soon as the redhead had left, the master of fire's phone began to vibrate. How on earth did his sister have such perfect timing?

_______________________________________________________________

Nya: So, how was ur DATE with Skylor?!

Kai: #1, it wasn't even anything official. #2, how on earth did u know what I was up to? Stalker.

Nya: It wasn't even that hard to figure out. Ur so hopelessly in love that I couldn't help but notice.

Kai: What? U know that doesn't answer my question – right?

Nya: Fine. Green bean and I checked the tracking device on ur phone.

Nya: We got bored. And there's only ONE reason u'd visit the noodle place. It doesn't take a genius.

Kai: Invasion of privacy, much?

Nya: I call sibling rights.

Kai: Whatever, dorks.

Kai: And for the record, it went great.

Nya: ASDJDHFHSJA! Details?

Kai: Patience, sis. Tell u when I get back.

Nya: Better drive fast then. I'm waiting.

Kai: Kay. I'll make sure to completely ignore every speed limit posting I see.

Nya: Fine. Fair point. Don't get urself arrested. I'm not bailing u out.

Kai: Sure thing. Imma be home soon.

Nya: Love u.

Kai: love u 2.

[foxofthedesert]

Arrow FF | Dinah x Laurel | A Christmas Miracle

Part 3 – The Dance (Click for AO3 Link)

As Dinah trails Laurel down the familiar amber-lit hallway, she has to remind herself that this is not her first trip to this particular Oak Forest complex.  Seeing as Laurel lives smack dab between Felicity and Dinah, the convenience of her apartment made sense to conduct meetings of the anti-Diaz club Felicity formed while Oliver was locked up and which thereafter morphed into what Felicity calls ‘an unconventionally awesome three way Womance.’  Dinah also drops in to check on Laurel after particularly rough days, a gesture that while not received with praise is at least silently appreciated judging by Laurel’s tacit acceptance of her continued unannounced visits.  There is a modicum of resentment from Laurel that occasionally boils over due to feeling unfairly criticized or annoyingly henpecked due to the wanton villainy that characterized her recent, although Dinah has learned how to assuage those flare ups with honeyed reassurances that she is only concerned because she cares.  Usually that works well enough, and it when it doesn’t they just bicker it out until one of them invariably apologizes.  Lastly, during their collaboration on the Ace Chemical case, work twice spilled over into Laurel’s home and saw them laboring into the wee hours of the morning double and triple checking critical details tucked away inside the mountain of associated files. 

All of this means that Dinah a stranger to this sharp, stylish corridor, nor is she unfamiliar with the cozy confines of the abode lurking behind the door just ahead.  And yet the tingling in her extremities and the butterflies fluttering around in her tummy would suggest otherwise.  In the wake of their bonding experience at the shelter, the sensations being produced by Laurel’s proximity and their pending nightcap are not unlike those she experienced the night before her junior prom.  Only then her date was a six foot two, one hundred ninety-five pound star athlete with whom she was utterly smitten; whereas now...well, at least the last part is accurate if her slightly humiliating reaction is any reliable barometer.  

Get ahold of yourself for God’s sake, she tells herself as they approach Laurel’s front door, which displays a lovely ornamented wreath.  You’re not sixteen anymore and this isn’t a date.  Then she recalls Laurel’s anxious shifting as the invitation was posed, and how clearly it was meant as much more than a friendly gesture of thanks for her help at the shelter.  Or is it?  Hmm. Laurel certainly was acting like maybe it is, which is probably why I’m as big a bundle of nerves as she seems to be.  Holding her hand when we left the shelter didn’t help matters, either. As Dinah remembers how right it felt when their palms meshed and their fingers wove together, she watches Laurel fumble for the key to her apartment with shaky hands, swear under her breath, then glance back sheepishly before returning to her task.  The unmistakable hint of an incredibly fragile hope that flared through Laurel’s green eyes hits Dinah square in the chest.  Jesus.  Is this really happening?

Dinah gets her answer when Laurel finally slides the correct key home and pushes the door open, then hesitates in the doorway before offering a shy invitation that sounds nothing like the arrogant, flamboyant, dangerous vixen she first encountered on Lian Yu.  Unfortunately Laurel recovers her confidence too quickly for Dinah to comment upon that brief display of vulnerability then flicks on the light and enters to reveal a sight no one who knows this Laurel Lance could have ever adequately prepared for.  

Inside the apartment is a scene that would not be horribly out of place in one of the Hallmark Christmas movies Dinah enjoys indulging in during the Holidays.  Festive trinkets adorn virtually every piece of furniture from little knickknacks like porcelain elves upon the bookshelf to dual poinsettias with ribbons attached to the wrapping on the vase on the entertainment stand next to the door all the way up to an exquisite nativity scene upon the coffee table that appears as old as it is gorgeous.  Meanwhile a modest Christmas tree is tucked into the corner of the living room, neatly and conservatively trimmed featuring plain white lights and mostly silver ornamentation.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” she says as she mimics Laurel in shrugging off her coat then depositing it, as well as her other unnecessary garments, upon the coat rack to the left of the door.  

Laurel smiles over her shoulder, an attractive blush coloring her cheeks. “Thanks.  I might have gone a bit overboard.  This is the first year I’ve decorated since...” she trails off then, brows drawing in, an oppressive sadness dimming the light in her eyes as she is transported somewhere in her mind, to another time and place Dinah is not yet privy to.  But as abruptly as the gloom descends, Laurel brushes it away with a shake of her shoulders and reattaches a wry smile to her face.  “Well, let’s just say it’s been a long time.”

Wanting to ask about what went through Laurel’s head just a second ago and whether or not it has to do with Quentin, Dinah opts instead for a safer track.  Some day she will get Laurel to open up to her about all she’s been hiding for so long under those impressive facades meant to distract from a secret anguish no one else seems interested in.  Except for Dinah, that is, and not just due to the cop instincts that make her want to dissect criminals and villains to determine what makes them tick.  She wants to know because it has been evident to her since she bothered to look past the jagged sarcasm, edgy goth wardrobe, and penchant for violence, she realized there was something significant there screaming to the heavens to be uncovered.  Once she knew what she was looking for, it didn’t take a genius to figure out there is so much hurt being bottled up inside Laurel that needs to be vented if she’s to maintain this positive course correction she’s made.  The problem is Laurel’s problematic lack of a support system makes any definitive progress unlikely in the near term.  Who in her life would she deem trustworthy enough to permit voyage beyond the as of yet impenetrable facade?  The answer is self-evident to Dinah.  No one.  Or not yet anyway.  Dinah is trying her damnedest to be that someone since no one else seems interested.    

With every one else important to Laurel life occupied with their own problems, such as Felicity and Oliver with their family and Team Arrow and all the peripheral shit that comes along with being the central figures of a Superhero outfit that spans multiple cities and Earth, or simply unconcerned about her welfare because they can’t let go of the past – ahem Rene and John – the burden of caring about and for Laurel Lance has fallen to Dinah alone.  And that’s okay.  She’s happy to shoulder it. Dinah has always been a caregiver.  It’s one of many factors that drove her to focus her military training into a meaningful civilian service.  That and Laurel, at least to her, is worth it.  If no one else can see that?  Their loss.  She’ll take this exceptional, infinitely interesting woman over the banal choices for company daily served up to her on a silver platter.  

“What got you in the holiday spirit if you don’t mind me prying?” she asks, following Laurel into the living room where her svelte hostess gestures for her to sit.

“Hold that thought and go ahead and make yourself at home while I go get the snacks,” Laurel says in lieu of answering immediately, then glides off toward the kitchen with her typical grace.  

Dinah obeys like a good guest, and to keep from fidgeting occupies her hands by trailing her fingers over the smooth lacquered finish of the figurines composing the nativity scene neatly arranged upon the coffee table.  The craftsmanship really is amazing, the precision unlike anything she has come across from her limited exposure to Christmas decorations.  As a kid her parents opted to celebrate the holidays in a non-religious manner seeing as both were lapsed in the faith they were born into, her father the son of Southern Baptist preacher and her mother’s family ensconced firmly within Reform Judaism.  But she had friends who made big to-dos about Christmas and often visited their houses to get a glimpse into a portion of modern life she was denied.  She used to marvel at the ornamentation on display and wish she was brave enough to ask her parents to make some allowances.  None of her friends had anything like this, though.

The manger is so intricate that she can feel imperfections in it as if it were real wood, the hay hundreds of individually constructed strings upon which a marvelously detailed baby Jesus lay, with ten tiny olive-tinted fingers clutching at the threadbare shawl wrapped round him.  Mary and Joseph are almost as meticulous, in their period clothing with accurate complexions and features, as are the equally diverse wise men and the astonishingly life-like miniature lambs tucked in round the manger.

“My great-great-great-something grandfather made that in the 1850’s, I think,” Laurel says, having snuck back in while Dinah was entranced studying the figurines.  A bit startled, she looks up to see Laurel rounding the couch with a tray in hand and tracks her progress as she continues on to deposit the tray carefully upon an unoccupied portion of the coffee table.  “It’s also the answer to your earlier question.  I mean, volunteering at the shelter this year got me thinking about when I was a kid and my parents would go crazy around Christmas.  Nostalgia hit me hard, so I started browsing through some of the boxes of Christmas stuff Quentin never got around to unpacking and found this nativity scene carefully tucked away in bundles of padding.  It’s exactly the same as the one my Quentin inherited, one of a handful of items that survived the family move from Germany after the war.  Incidentally, apparently family origin is one thing that doesn’t really change between Earths where we have doppelgangers.”  She pauses for a breath.  “Anyway, I wanted to put it out to remember both Quentins by but it seemed silly to have just that, so I put up a few more.  Which turned into a few more. Eventually...I looked around and this had happened.  Oopsie.”  To prove her point, she gestures around the apartment, its festive décor providing a merry backdrop to what Dinah hopes will be just as merry a night.

“Well, it’s absolutely gorgeous so I don’t blame you one bit for wanting to show it off.  Or for going overboard on the rest,” Dinah says, savoring the information she has just gleaned.  Not only does she now know that they share in a heritage that traces back to Germany before the Second World War and that family histories remain largely intact between multiple Earths when a person exists in each of them, but the most intriguing tidbit is that Laurel had a happy childhood at one point.  So what went so terribly wrong to make her into Black Siren?  Curiosity surges through her mind that she quickly tempers with a dose of reality by reminding herself why she’s here.  “The whole apartment is really nice. I’m very impressed,” she adds, meaning it from the bottom of her heart.  “Now that I know you have a knack for interior decorating, I’ll be blackmailing you into sprucing my place up for Hanukkah next year.”

Just because her late parents chose the path of unbelief does not mean Dinah has.  There was a time she abandoned her faith, but since moving to Star City she has slowly been building up to the loosely-observant Reformist she is today.  That means among other things that she attends synagogue whenever she can, which isn’t as often as she’d like due to her job, and eats as kosher as convenience and finance will allow.  She has never been big on tradition, so she prefers to practice her faith in a casual way that appeals to her modern, practical, and privacy-oriented sensibilities. That said, her belief is as strong as it has ever been, strangely enough thanks to the woman from whom she just washed dishes and mopped floors until her fingers pruned up and her back ached like a bitch.  If there was ever a sign from God that love and forgiveness possess a singular power to heal the heart, it has come in the form of her constantly evolving relationship with Laurel.

Ignorant of Dinah’s thoughts, Laurel chuckles at the jest she just made, which causes those amazing dimples of hers to peak out.  “Can’t wait to see what material you break out to get me to do your bidding. I’m not easily blackmailed, you know.”

“I know.  I happen to like a good challenge, which you most certainly are,” Dinah says with a wink that causes Laurel to blush for what seems like the hundredth time tonight.

“I’ve been called many things, but none with ‘good’ attached as a modifier.  Eggnog?” Laurel returns as she gently picks up a mug of eggnog and offers it to Dinah, who accepts it with a grateful smile.

Powerless to resist the creamy goodness cradled in her hands, Dinah takes an experimental sip and cannot stop a moan of pure delight from purring through her chest.  “Well, get used to it if this stuff is any indication of your talents.”  She then breaks off the arm of one of the gingerbread men, snaps the hand off, then samples the dismembered appendage.  Eyes sliding shut in rapture, a similar sound erupts from the depths of her chest.  The cookie is more like something out of a professional bakery than an amateur oven.  It is soft, perfectly chewy with a cinnamony and gingery flavor that coats her tongue with wonderfulness.  “Christ alive, Laurel!  This is divine.”

Not half as divine as those noises you just made, Laurel thinks, then chastises herself for what feels like the thousandth time tonight.  She has always been hyper-aware of Dinah’s casual sensuality and absurd level of hotness, but lately her inability to curb that awareness has proven quite the irritant.

“Where’d you learn to make this?”

Dinah’s question causes Laurel to reemerge abruptly from the haze induced by that sinful moan.  “I found it in my dad’s recipe book,” she answers, hastily to avoid any intensive scrutiny of her embarrassing biological response.  “I mean, Quentin’s.  Not that my Quentin wasn’t…that he didn’t...err, that he wasn’t...”  A soft hand touches her to mercifully prevent any further verbal flailing.

Dinah’s gentle smile eases the mortification, but only just.  “It’s okay. I know how much he meant to you.  It’s not wrong of you to see him as your dad.  He was.  If any man ever loved his daughter, that’s the way Quentin loved you.”  

Tears prick at Laurel’s eyes unbidden and she clamps down on her lower lip to keep from whimpering like some pathetic little girl.  That age old cliché that time heals all wounds is nothing but a bunch of bullshit to Laurel when it’s yet to get any easier for her to hear how deeply this Earth’s Quentin Lance cared for her.  The gaping, oozing sore his entirely preventable death left behind is a constant reminder of her unforgivable failures as a daughter upon two worlds. When her mother died in an auto accident and took her Sara to the grave with her, Laurel selfishly and foolishly blamed it all upon her father, who was behind the wheel, even though it was not his fault.  A truck driver strung out on amphetamines to stay awake ran a light and plowed right into the passenger’s side.  There was nothing anybody could have done, but that didn’t stop Laurel from berating her father at every turn until their relationship was in tatters and he could barely stand to look at her for fear of what she might say.  When he was gunned down two weeks after her sixteenth birthday, six months after her Ollie died in the Gambit, she blamed him for that, too. Or at least she did until realization set in that all of the tragedies were ultimately her fault.  Her parents had been on their way to pick up her from a silly after school program for advanced readers when that accident occurred, Ollie went on that trip with his dad because she was putting too much pressure on him to move away with her for college, and her father was killed interrupting a robbery while out buying ice cream for her because she emerged from the dreary foxhole of depression to actually interact with him for the first time in weeks.  

Guilt over her role in those events ate her alive over the subsequent years.  Haunted in nightmares, she was stalked from the shadows of her mind every waking hour of the day until she was reduced to little more than a deviant drug addict living on the streets, willing to do anything for a fix so the voice inside her head that sounded suspiciously like her dad would stop blaming her for their family’s demise.  Becoming Black Siren cauterized that wound fairly well up til being Black Siren cost her the exceedingly precious second chance at deserving her father’s unconditional love.  That day in the hospital, hearing Sara’s plaintive cries, feeling the blood rushing in her ears, unable to curtail the tears rolling down her face, tore it right back open again, as it has remained ever since.  And the only person who has seemed to notice her silent suffering is Dinah Drake.  

Miracle of all miracles….

As if sensing Laurel’s internal distress over her terrible comportment and her reticence to continue down this line of discussion, Dinah again proves her aptitude with regard to Laurel’s emotional and mental state.  A pat of Laurel’s hand precedes returning her own to her mug, and she then adopts a more neutral posture and tone as she indulges in another healthy sip of the eggnog.  After a satisfied little sigh, she asks, “So, what brought you to the shelter?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Laurel says, tone a bit clipped.  

One day she will tell Dinah about the months she spent living at place just like the Carmine Kanigher Emergency Shelter.  If her wildest dreams come true, she’ll finally be safe enough in a relationship with a woman who can handle the harrowing tale of a broken nineteen year old sexual abuse victim and heroin junkie who escaped her personal hell when S.T.A.R. Labs explosion bathed her battered body in Dark Matter in the midst of an agonized banshee wail.  Beaten half to death, face a bloody mess, violated beyond reckoning, angry cigar-shaped burns seared into the small of her back and the back of her neck, in tattered clothes that hadn’t been washed in a month, she stumbled eight blocks in the dead of night until she spotted the little facility tucked in between a decrepit old apartment building and an anachronistic Catholic church that looked more like it belonged in Gotham than Central City.  

As she stumbled across the empty intersection, her heart started beating uncontrollably.  Two steps out a cold sensation corkscrewed up her spine and she stopped right in the middle of the street, paralyzed. Out of the blue she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head, could smell the stink of vodka on his breath, and feel a grimy hand clamping down on her hips whilst the other snatched great handfuls of her hair with all the tenderness of a rabid grizzly. Panic descended upon her like a runaway train.  Unable to think, reduced to pure adrenaline and fear, she used every last ounce of willpower to force her feet to move and raced as fast as her unsteady legs would take her toward sanctuary, heedless of the cars barreling down upon her from both lanes, horns screaming at the crazy unkempt lady on a suicide mission to figure out the chicken’s motives for journeying to the other side of the road.  Only instead of a triumphant arrival, her toe got hooked on the sidewalk, causing her to face plant within a stone’s throw from what would soon become her only safe haven in life, fracturing her cheek and reopening the jagged cut on her lip.  

Laurel can remember so vividly how she literally crawled those last five yards to the front door on her hands and knees, panting for breath and keening in manic desperation, can remember how her bare knees were shredded on the unforgiving concrete leaving behind erratic streaks of blood that took the staff four hours to scrub out the next day.  How she got up the stairs and through the front door is not so clear, but she does recall smelling fresh popcorn the second she staggered inside, a scent to this day she associates with safety. She also remembers being greeted by the unbearably kind face of a woman not much older than she is right now, and how that same woman nursed her through the night so patiently and with such gentle care that she wept in her arms until she passed out.

That is why she was at the shelter tonight.  To at long last pay it forward in honor of Emma Morrison and all of the other men and women who filtered through her shattered life during her brief stay at Central Covenant Emergency Shelter.  After all they did to piece her back together into some semblance of a human being, a herculean feat Laurel still doesn’t understand how they accomplished, the least she can do is help out around the holidays at a place that is doing the same thing for people just like she used to be.  People who have been chewed up and spat out by the world, whose loved ones have left them by choice or via the grave, who have nothing and no one to care for them during the one season per year everyone should have someone.  Even a wretch like her.      

One day she will tell Dinah all of this, because there hasn’t been any one else in her life since Emma that made her want to talk about her past, to air out her anguish, to vent her immeasurable pain.  Dinah makes her want to, though, and not just because Dinah has proven herself trustworthy but because Dinah had the audacity to get to know Laurel for no other reason than for Laurel’s sake.  Against all objective logic, Dinah chose Laurel, and continues to over and over again.  Nobody else has done that since her Ollie and her Daddy died. So there will come a day she will sit Dinah down and divulge the ugly truth behind her radically abrupt spurt of holiday volunteerism. But not today.  Especially not on Christmas.  Talking about those dark days would sully something precious that has been building between them tonight.  Something Laurel can already feel slipping away from her, which causes her to react with her typical knee-jerk abrasiveness.  

Lids narrowing in accusation, she pins Dinah down with a cold stare.  “You were the one who followed me there.  Worried I was about to dive head first into the evil end of the pool again?”  Still on the defensive, she squeezes the mug between her hands more tightly to rein in her flaring temper.  She hadn’t meant to jump down Dinah’s throat, it’s just lashing out is her default response to emotional upset.  Once she told Felicity empathy was a work in progress – well, it is one of many works in progress in her life, coping mechanisms included.  

To her credit, Dinah does not take the bait other than to calmly reply, “Of course not.”  A pointed look from Laurel, replete with an arched brow, inspires Dinah to amend herself with a shy shrug and cute shrug of her shoulders.  “Okay.  Maybe a little.  Mostly I was curious.  You pawned a very important case off on an A.D.A. at the last minute, so I thought I’d find out why.”

Laurel does not understand the reasoning.  At all.  “You have history with Martinez.  I thought you’d be fine working with him while I took some evenings for myself during the holidays.”

For the first time all night, Dinah becomes visibly upset.  Her nostrils flare, the muscles in her arms and shoulders tense, and her eyes narrow sharply.  “Well, you figured wrong.  We worked that case together for over two months, Laurel.  You should have seen it through instead bailing on me!”

Taken aback, Laurel returns her mug to the tray.  Of all the things for Dinah to get her panties in a wad about, it’s this?  As far as Laurel knows, Dinah and Martinez get along swimmingly.  They have worked several cases together since Laurel assumed her doppelganger’s duties as District Attorney and have only returned glowing praises about the other in both verbal and hard copy reports.  Hell, they’ve even gone out for casual drinks a time or two and had a swell time, which irritated Laurel more than it should have considering she only recently retrieved her attraction to Dinah from the realm of impossible dreams.  

Strangely enough, it was working on this case so closely that made her reconsider whether her assessment of Dinah’s sexuality was as reliable as she initially assumed.  Maybe that’s why she’s so perturbed.  Maybe she thought the same about me?  I mean, I wasn’t exactly waving my bi flag for all to see.  What if working this case together has opened her eyes the same way it has mine?  What if…

Going any further down that road without context is so dangerous Laurel veers a sharp turn on the nearest on-ramp leading to attaining what she needs with a sudden desperation that is as terrifying as it is exciting.

“Okay...what’s this really about?” she poses, daring Dinah to try and finagle herself out of giving an honest answer.

“I just told you...” Laurel waves off Dinah’s sad attempt at deflection as if batting away a pesky fly.  “Yeah, yeah.  You told me why you were curious as to my so-called pawning off of the Ace Chemical case.  I couldn’t help but notice, though, that you’re truly upset about it.  And not for the specified reason.  This has nothing to do with your investment in this case.  Or mine for that matter.”

“Is that so?”  

Dinah’s brows shoot up so sharply it feels as if they’re about to clash with her hairline.  How did this conversation turn on her so quickly? She’d meant to get Laurel to confess that she dropped the case because her work at the shelter during the holidays had become too important for her to abandon, that she has finally found a purpose for that heart she’s kept so safely guarded with a charming misanthropy she wields like a sword and shield to repel any who seek entry.  Only halfway through the sentence it turned into accusation as the abandonment Dinah felt – and yes, she knows that’s irrational; but Laurel makes her irrational, okay! – superseded that initial noble goal.  Deep down, she knows Laurel stepping away from the case only hurt her because it meant they wouldn’t be spending any more late nights in each other’s offices or in Laurel’s apartment working into the wee hours of the morning. There would be no more sipping on coffee and chatting about sports during short breaks, no more furtive glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking, no more of their shoulders and hips brushing together as they huddled over a report they’ve both read a dozen times looking for potential weaknesses or loopholes in the prosecution the defense might exploit, and no more excuses to touch Laurel because she’s right there and available and one hundred percent engaged in their hypnotizing dynamic.

Dinah was aggrieved because she wants more of all that, craves it like a drug, yearns for it like a forlorn lover whose partner has been out of reach for far too long.  She is afraid that without a legitimate professional excuse to continue this closeness they’ve developed it will wither on the vine and die before ever bearing fruit.  And that hurts her, makes her chest and throat physically constrict and her heart ache painfully to the point she feels tears of sheer despair well up from within her very soul.  If she cared to examine that phenomenon with any degree of conviction, she knows she would invariably uncover the root cause to be a four letter word that she simply cannot be the one to say first.  There is far too much on the line for that, and not just for her but for Laurel, who has probably been hurt more than Dinah has.  

And of course Laurel took the opportunity to, in a matter of heartbeats, dissect Dinah’s outburst and arrive at the same conclusion she has. Sometimes the woman’s perceptiveness is downright infuriating.

“From my point of view it is,” Laurel replies with complete confidence. All of the sudden, those spectacular green eyes lose all hints of vulnerability and instead resemble those of a hawk who has zeroed in on her prey.  That prey being Dinah.  Which sends a jolt of excitement through Dinah’s veins.

Refusing to back down an inch, Dinah harrumphs.  “Well, then, since you’re such an expert in the subject of my motives, why don’t you enlighten me as to what they were?”

Laurel shoots her a warning glance that is not so much threatening as out of concern.  Dinah doesn’t quite know what to make of it until Laurel responds, then she understands that the concern is for them both.  

“You sure you wanna go down this path?  ‘Cause there’s no going back once we do.”

Dinah has never been more sure of anything.  Four hours ago she would have taken the out being dangled so tempting in front of her.  But four hours ago she hadn’t seen Laurel disarmed of the sword that is her double-edged tongue and disrobed of the impenetrable armor that protects a soft underbelly Dinah would wager has been exposed for none asides from Quentin in a very long time.  Four hours ago she hadn’t seen Laurel glowing under the adulation of people who clearly care for her as much as she does them.  Four hours ago she hadn’t witnessed Laurel giving heartfelt hugs to homeless folks who weren’t the cleanest or the best smelling and engaging them with a mega-watt dimpled smile that actually reached her eyes as she wished them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and meant every last word.  Four hours ago she hadn’t held Laurel’s hand and realized it felt more right in hers than anyone’s ever has – and that includes Vince.  Four hours ago she was not ready to trust Laurel with her heart, because believe it or not she is not as strong as everyone makes her out to be.  

But that was four hours ago.  Now, things are different.  Much different. In such an astonishingly brief window of observation she has seen Laurel express attributes she knew were there along just waiting for the right moment to be unfurled and has at the same time been given a glimpse at a potential future that is so beautiful it takes her breath away.  All she needs is for Laurel to make the first move. And if that happens, Dinah is ready and willing to meet her halfway.

Until then, however, she has to maintain the pretense of ignorance, and not just for her sake.  Like a skittish dog who has been ritually abused only to be rescued by some compassionate soul, Laurel will need to feel like she is in control of the progression of their relationship or she might panic and bolt.  Some might see that as an obstacle they could not overcome, but Dinah is not one of those types.  Pride within intimacy has never been her problem.  Adaptability is her strength.  Take charge or be submissive, so long as she is being shown proper love and respect she can cut either direction depending on the mood.  With Vince she liked being a little domineering because he could take it.  He had this sixth sense for when she wanted to wear the pants and when she needed him to take the reins.  It seems that with Laurel, the sixth sense belongs to her.  Maybe time will bear out a different result, and if so she is eager to experience the journey, but if not she is just as happy to be for Laurel what Vince was for her.  Hell, it might even be the change of pace she didn’t even know she needed.

For now, though, she can just tell that she’s going to have to give a little bit more than she’s used to, bend a little more readily so that this new, fragile, incredibly thrilling development between them doesn’t break right out of the box.  

Crossing her arms over her chest, she narrows her eyes dubiously.  “Pssh. You act as if your theory is going to blow my damn mind or something.”

“Maybe it is,” Laurel says matter-of-factly, then softens almost imperceptibly.  “Maybe it’s already blown mine and I’m just trying to make sure you’re ready for the fallout.”

Internally, Dinah is squealing like a school girl whose crush is just about to make her dreams come true.  She has honestly not felt this way in so long she can’t remember the last time.  Externally she utilizes her many years of training, both from the military and the police academy, to maintain a neutral expression.

“Don’t go pulling punches on my account.  Not now.  One of the reasons I like spending time with you is because you give it to me straight. So if you have something to say, say it.”

Laurel nods, then does not hesitate to accommodate Dinah’s command. “Alright.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  Here she pauses briefly, inhales deeply, lets it out slowly, then squares her shoulders before launching into her speech.  “So...I think that me handing the case off to Martinez means our collaboration ended earlier than scheduled.  I think that hurt you, and way more than you could have predicted.  I will concede that you might not understand why that is, exactly.  Or if you do, you’re too scared to admit it.”

Getting hot.  Keep going.  Figuring Laurel might need a bit of encouragement to see this through all the way, Dinah decides to inject a bit of a challenge.  Laurel always responds well to those…

“I’m not afraid of anything.  Especially a loud-mouthed bean pole like you.”  

Laurel’s grin tells Dinah her tactic worked like a fucking charm.  She gets herself a well-deserved mental pat on the back as Laurel scoots closer rather than reeling away as most would.

“Getting defensive.  I hit a nerve, I see.  Don’t worry, you didn’t offend me with that cute little barb.  In fact, you just proved my point.”

“Which is?”  C’mon.  You’ve come this far.  Just a little further...

“That you like me.”

Score! 1-0 in favor of Drake.  I’m liking the direction this is going more and more by the second.

To really sell her being utterly dense of what is going on here and that Laurel is the one in charge, Dinah furrows her brow in confusion. “Come again…?”

A daring hand hovers over Dinah’s arm, then a long finger begins trailing down the underside of her forearm, which is still bared due to her having neglected to roll her sleeves back down.  The touch of tapered nail scores a line of fire into her flesh, leaving behind a trail of heat so intense Dinah would not be shocked to discover on the morning that the line has not faded.  The thought draws her eyes down to the tattoo of a flock of birds on the outside of Laurel’s right index finger.  The sight elicits an electric buzz low in Dinah’s belly.  

Unbidden, she imagines lying on her side upon a reclined chair, Laurel sitting next to her and holding her hand as a carefully selected artist etches the finishing touches into a custom design upon the skin high up on her left rib cage – the side closest to her heart -  that appears to be a laurel wreath bisected by a knight’s lance.  The image does things to Dinah that cannot account for.  Never before has she been stricken with the impulse to get such an intimately personal tattoo to join her Marine Corps insignia, as if she subconsciously is already harboring a desire to be branded as Laurel’s woman.  

Shit! Dinah shudders as the image dissolves, leaving her excited and frightened and a little turned on all at once.  Thankfully, her return to the present is timely, as she glances up just in time to receive Laurel’s languid response.

“You heard me.  You like me.  And not just because I keep it so real for you.”  Lifting her finger from Dinah’s arm, Laurel slides her hand down until her palm slides into place against Dinah’s.  Just like at the shelter, their fingers thread together as if designed to be mated.  The expression on Laurel’s face then turns decidedly emotional.  “You care about me.  For me.  Not just because I look like someone you used to love or am a useful ally because of my job, my kickass ninja skills, or my meta powers.  In spite of all the hurt between us, you see something in me worthwhile.”  She ducks her head, looks up at Dinah through her long lashes.  “I can tell because it’s the same way that I care for you.”

Dinah exhales sharply as if punched, just without all the consequential pain.  This is it.  It’s really happening.  All of the tension that has built up since their eyes met across the crowded cafeteria at the shelter has come to a percussive crescendo. On Christmas Eve of all days.  Is this my present?  Is this what I’ve waited all year for?  All my fucking life for?  And not even known it ‘til now?  Hell yes it is!  How she knows, she can’t say, nor would she at the risk of killing the magic.  Some things are better left assigned to the mysterious and fickle hands of fate.  And since said hands seem to be favoring her tonight, Dinah is more than happy to surrender this one without a fight.

“Laurel...are you saying what I think you are?” she asks after tipping up Laurel’s chin.

Knowing instinctively that this is the moment, the one that will define the rest of her life, Laurel braces herself and summons up every last ounce of her courage.  For too long she has pined secretly over Dinah, often times secretly even to herself.  There was ample reason, to be sure, but all of those seem to have been rendered moot by whatever Christmas magic is operating to give her the one thing she has wanted more than all else since an audacious, slightly self-righteous, lionhearted woman kept her from murdering a federal judge after she bared her heart on behalf of someone she will always love and was cruelly shot down.  

That day Dinah saved more than the life of one heartless judge, she saved Laurel’s too.  That was the singular event, the axial minute, the pivotal hour that made her believe she could actually make a go of this good guy shit the other Laurel draped around neck like a cloak of calling.  Quentin had started her down this path and his death had kept her upon it by a thread most days.  But if Dinah hadn’t gone out of her way when she didn’t have to and all but told Laurel she believed it was possible for her to be redeemed, none of this would be possible.  Before then, a backslide was inevitable.  

And so Laurel mentally buckles up and floors the gas pedal, if for no other reason than she owes Dinah the truth.  Come what may.  

“If you think I’m saying every time I’m close to you my heart starts racing like it’s going to jump out of my chest, then yes,” she says, investing her heart into her words as possible never before. She squeezes Dinah’s hand a bit harder, willing her to hear and understand that none of what she is hearing is bullshit, that every last syllable is being wrenched from the bottom of what’s left of her heart.  “If you think I’m saying I think about you constantly, then yes.  If you think I’m saying I’ve never met anyone like you who makes me feel all the crazy, amazing, scary things you make me feel, then yes.  If you think I’m saying I daydream about what it would feel like to hold you, kiss you, and wake up with you in my arms, then hell yes to that, too.  Truth is, I’ve felt this way for a while now.  I think it started that day outside the Courthouse when you stopped me from doing something incredibly stupid.  The way you looked at me…I couldn’t remember the last time anybody looked at me that way, and all I knew was I wanted more.  These past few months, I’ve done everything I can to insinuate myself into your life because for whatever twisted reason, I’m drawn to you, and I just can’t seem to help myself.”

For an unbearable few seconds, Dinah says nothing, just sits there staring at Laurel while clenching her hand so hard that Laurel starts to lose feeling in her fingers.  Dread rears its ugly head shortly thereafter.  

Oh, God.  Have I blown it?  Have I scared her away?  Did I read this all wrong?  I’m gonna lose her.  Fuck!  No, no, no...

“Wow. I, uh...wow.”  

When Dinah manages that breathless response, it doesn’t inspire much confidence in Laurel that the panic clawing at her chest and clogging her throat are an overreaction.  At this point, addled as her brain is, all she can think of is that she needs to backtrack as quickly as possible and salvage their friendship.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to...”

“No!” Dinah’s interruption is a mini explosion that startles Laurel so badly she jumps.  “Just...stop right there.  That was a lot to take in at once, but not in a bad way.”

The sensation of relief that washes over Laurel is nothing short of blissful.  All of that anxiety might have been for nothing after all. If so, that means Dinah does feel the same as her.  And if that is true, it means they might actually make a go of this.  There is so much on the line here, so much to lose, that the thought is almost terrifying.  Almost.  An overpowering urge to kiss those hypnotically plump lips of Dinah’s is overriding all other considerations.  

With her heart in her throat all of a sudden, Laurel runs her thumb along the back of Dinah’s hand and is pleased to see Dinah shiver in response.  “Really?”

“Really.” Dinah smiles crookedly.  “Turns out you’re a pretty smart cookie, Lance.  Your theory may be more of a fact.  Working with you on this case has been amazing.  You’ve been amazing.  And I know I shouldn’t, but I want to be close to you, Laurel.  Closer, even. So much closer.”  

That last bit is hardly more than a whisper, which Laurel hears clearly due to their heady proximity.  A frisson of pure joy runs down her body because that is the exact same thing she wants.  And not just metaphorically.  Right now she wants to be closer physically, too, which has some of her old spunk reappearing.

“How much closer, Dinah?” she asks, eyes hooded, nostrils flaring to indulge in the scent of coconut and jasmine that is uniquely Dinah. She inches forward, drawing their heads and upper torsos ever closer. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure there’s some mistletoe in the vicinity I could scrounge up if I need to.  You know, if you need an excuse to ask for a kiss.”

Dinah taps her index finger against her chin a couple times, feigning pretending to weight the need for such measures.  “Hmmm.” Then she shakes her head gently as her lips slide into an impish smile.  “Nah.  Direct is more my style.”

“A woman after my own heart.  Which, incidentally, is one of the many reasons I love you.”  Laurel gasps aloud the instant that very heavy phrase slides off her tongue.  She hadn’t meant to say it. “I...I‘m so sorry.  That just slipped out.”

But Dinah does not appear shocked or appalled or angry or anything negative really.  Instead, she is still smiling as she leans in, her head tilting a fraction as their noses nearly come into contact. They are so close now Laurel can smell Dinah’s breath, sweet with hints of gingerbread and eggnog, as she speaks.  “It’s okay.  No need to apologize.  I liked it.”

“You did?”

“Mmhmm. Say it again, please.”  An emphasis is added when Dinah nuzzles the tips of their noses together.

Laurel has never felt so warm and alive.  And there is no way in hell that she would refuse that request, even if she had a gun to her head. She can think no better way to die than professing her love for Dinah Drake.

“Dinah.” She pauses, breathes deep, then opens up her heart and lets all of the repressed affection for this incredible woman spill out in three little enormous words.  “I love you.”

Heart in her eyes, Dinah responds with every bit as much emotion.  “Laurel. I love you, too.”  She then nibbles her lip affectedly, head tilting a bit further.  “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, you may.  Any time you wish,” Laurel says, her heart thudding in her chest as though it has been replaced by a Pamplona bull.

Dinah does not waste any time.  Holding Laurel’s gaze, she leans in until their lips are ever-so-lightly together, lets Laurel adjust and brushes them together from side-to-side until Laurel loses containment upon a high-pitched mewl that tears free from her throat, making her sound like a kitten being teased too long with the milk it so desperately craves.  Lips curling into a smile, Dinah stops the teasing at last and seals their lips together.  It’s their very first kiss, and it feel is so indescribable, so incredibly wonderful that Laurel’s brain short circuits.  In that moment, she is reduced to pure sensation, from the tingling of her lips as Dinah gently sucks upon them to the fire coursing through her veins, burning away every last vestige of doubt, fear, and anxiety over whether or not they might be ruining something irreplaceably precious and over whether or not she will ever deserve however much love Dinah is willing to expend upon her.  None of that matters when with one kiss

When Dinah pulls away a few seconds later, she hums in appreciation of what has just happened.  And then her eyes begin dancing merrily. “Just for future reference, was that little Wesleyan promise you made my Christmas present?  Infinite kisses?”

Laurel chuckles at the reference she actually understands.  They don’t have The Princess Bride on Earth-2, which is a crime in and of itself, but thankfully Dinah was kind enough to introduce her to one of this world’s classic romantic comedies.  Which was the reason she used that phrase.  How Wesley felt about Buttercup is pretty much exactly how she feels about Dinah.  Hopelessly devoted.  Willing to do anything and everything for her.  Willing to kill for her, and if she must, die for her.  That said, now is not the time for such declarations.  

“I actually was going to give you a Colt CQBP,” she says, smirking because she knows how much of a gun nut Dinah is.  “But now I’m thinking I like your idea better.”

“Ooo! How did you know I wanted one of those?  God, that’s so tempting. I think I agree with you, though.  The kisses sound like a much better deal.”

Laurel reacts accordingly, hands going to her chest as if flattered. Because she is.  Dinah turning down a gun for her kisses is a pretty big statement.  Almost as big as Ollie rejecting a new, spiffier bow in favor of his wife’s smooches.  

“Oh, my.  I’ve got a sweet talker on my hands.  Are you gonna make me regret...”

With a growl, Dinah interrupts the spiel Laurel was about to launch into about giving Dinah a brand new avenue of attack with which to get her way.  

“Shut up, woman, and give me more of what I really want.”

“My God, you are so demanding.”  Laurel caps off the comment with dimpled grin.

“And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” says Dinah, who then without warning surges forward to claim Laurel’s lips in a searing kiss with none of the tentative nature of the first.

After some indeterminate amount of time exploring one another on the couch with eager lips and combative tongues and adventurous hands, they draw apart reluctantly, their lips breaking contact with a satisfying smack.  As she leans away from the sole source of her current inundation with unadulterated bliss, Laurel inadvertently glances up at the clock only to note that it is, in fact, five minutes past twelve.  Christmas Eve is officially over, which can only mean one thing.  

Reaching out with her left hand, she tenderly cups Dinah’s cheek.  “Merry Christmas, Dinah.”

Burrowing into the embrace, Dinah’s answering smile is one for the ages. “Merry Christmas, Laurel.”

Which it most certainly is.  In fact, it will turn out to be the most Merry Christmas Laurel has ever had.  Until next year, that is, when she wakes up with a gloriously naked and happily sated Dinah sleeping soundly sprawled atop her.  Or the next year, where she awakens to a very frisky Dinah kissing and licking up the length of her inner thigh and doesn’t stop until arrival at the Promised Land.  Or the year after that when they are engaged and spend an unbelievably awesome Christmas with Sara and Ava back in 18th century at the winter home of the legendary Carolus Rex of Sweden.  Or the year after that, the best yet, when her present is little stick with two pink lines.

Some might say Merry Christmas as a perfunctory salutation to friends and family, but not Laurel.  She means it every time she says it.  And how can she not?  Dinah makes every Christmas a merry one for her.

[asklosingfaith]

What does Christ'an like to do for fun? Also, how exactly is their name pronounced?

Christ’an: Ah, the name question. Don’t worry, I get that question all the time. It’s pronounced exactly like the feminine given name “Kristen.” While we’re here, let me attempt to circumvent the inevitable “but why Christ’an” question.

Christ’an: My legal, given name (Coda recently told me in trans circles this is called a “deadname”) is… well, exactly what you’d expect. I’m not as uncomfortable with it as most trans people are with their deadname, but it always struck me as… odd, for more than a few reasons (combine my deadname the fact that my sister is named “Faith” tells you a lot about our parents, I think, or at least how they used to be). When I started to realize that I might not be a boy, the name felt even worse on me. I wanted to make a bigger change, but I was kinda scared. People in my community (and my old school) are not exactly known for being super progressive?

Christ’an: Not to mention that I wasn’t even sure I was trans. I’m still not, really. Maybe I’ll wake up in a year from now and realize I’m definitely a guy, or maybe I’ll look back in a few months and think I’m probably a girl, or maybe I’ll just remain nonbinary and uncertain forever, and all of that is fine! But for now I’m kind of wobbling on this uncertainty, so I wanted to make a small change. So I took out a letter. Teachers couldn’t complain that I wasn’t using my “real” name, because I technically was, I was just using a variant. The spelling is masculine, the pronunciation is feminine, and overall it just kinda seems like… well, it seems like me.

Christ’an: Alright, now to answer the fun part of the question! I actually really like to draw and make art. I’m, like, really not good at it, but I love doodling and stuff. Coda is trying to teach me how to play ukulele, and the BQ (love those guys!) are always keeping my singing voice warmed up, so I guess music is a really big part of my life and my community. Really, as dumb as it sounds, if I have one hobby, it’s learning. I love learning about things. Sometimes I’ll just get a random impulse to learn something, and I’ll just spend an afternoon looking that up.

Christ’an: Like, one day I was curious about imaginary numbers. I’d heard of them before, and you use the letter “i” for the notation, right, but I didn’t know what they were. So I looked it up and it’s just the square root of negative one (and I mean, I get square roots), but that just didn’t make sense to me. So I just kept researching and it turns out that there are whole sets of numbers that have no applicability to counting things, but they make perfect mathematical sense! Like, negative numbers have some real-world applications, namely in things like debts and subtraction, but imaginary numbers can’t really exist? Like I can potentially have five apples, or negative three apples (like I can owe somebody apples) and I can arrange two rows of two apples to get four apples, but I can’t arrange i apples to get negative one apples, because that doesn’t make any sense. But if you just kinda pretend that i is a thing, then a lot of math actually starts to make sense????? And apparently, you can use it for a lot of different equations that do hold some real-world meaning. There’s one where you raise another number represented by a letter (“a” or “e” or something like that) to the power of i (which means you multiply it by itself i times??? what????) and you actually get a number!?!?! I think you get 1 or something? How crazy is that?!??!!? And it turns out all of this can be applied to electricity and stuff apparently?? Isn’t that just amazing!!?!??!? Like, here is something which, by definition, shouldn’t exist, but you pretend it does and then suddenly you can use it for something! I mean, I don’t fully understand it but that just astounds me! And then you get into–

Christ’an: …I was rambling again, wasn’t I? Sorry. I really love learning. I was always that annoying child who asks, “why?”

Christ’an: I guess I still am.

[phildrawsfanart]

Annual drawing self-evaluation ~ 2017 edition

Thank you (@itsragnorfell) Edin for tagging me <33

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

1. List of artworks published this last year:

It’s going to take me forever if I put up a link to each artwork I did in 2017 because basically 3 quarters of my artworks were made in that year ! OO So maybe around 250/300 of them or more (which while I’m typing this down sounds completely crazy...Oo wow...) Then again, I’ve been doing an artwork per day every week or so (not counting the weekends, so 5 a week) when 2017 started...Still sounds insane ! Oo lol

I can also add that 3 beautiful quarters (and a tad more) of my artworks are Malec ones ! I love my OTP...! <3 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

I’m extremely proud of my baby right here :

I can’t quiet go into details to why I am so very proud of this one for certain reasons (You’ll all know soon ^^) but I can say this : I’ve put my heart and soul into making this poster. Certain sleepless nights went into the making of it too...! And I really like the vibe it gives off...! I think it’s the artwork that feels and fits the most into the actual Shadowhunters universe ? I just really like this one...It’s extremely rare that I look upon one of my artworks and feel immensely proud of it and not go and be highly critical of it... (I tend to do that a lot when it comes to my art...^^', bad habit of mine. I’m a perfectionist to the bone and I judge myself harshly most of the time...^^') I guess this could be a new 2018 resolution : be less harsh on myself and my art...! 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

This is easy to answer ! ALL my artworks when I first started in the fandom ! If I could erase maybe like the 3 first monts of artworks I did then I’d be glad...^^' The proportions were awful and I wasn’t this detailed and precise in drawing as I am now...Also, the facial expressions were less raw and looked less “real”...It was all very new to me (even doing graphic artworks) but still, all those very first ones are cringeworthy in my eyes...I’m being harsh on myself here but really, if you go and dig up those dinosaurs you’ll see what I mean ! 

4. A favorite excerpt peek of your artworks:

*incoherent noises are heard in the distance...* I just LOVE this artwork to pieces as well...It’s the first colored artwork I did that I was proud off...They are at peace, in love, safe in each other’s arms...I also find the little glimmers on their faces really soothing in a way...It’s like the universe is embracing them...I just really adore this peek...<3

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

I’m going to cheat on this one because it’s actually an emotion that you share with me in the comments or asks that I adore and would deem “my favorite”. It’s either when you go “jdjdhfgfgfgdhdjdkdkfhfgg” and then the tags attached to this or the following words in the comments are you telling me that you loved the artwork *hides away*...! OR (I think those are my favorite), when you shout at me “HOW DARE YOU??”, “WHO ASKED YOU?????”, “UNFOLLOWED, BLOCKED, UNSTANED!”. Lol , those make me giggle or literally just laugh out loud and blush like crazy...!(I love you all..<3333)

 I’m not gonna lie, when I got into the fandom and I first saw those comments I swear I thought I had done something really wrong and bad...I took those words literally ? I didn’t know that it was a common way to show appreciation ? I was really thrown off and scared ! lol ^^' Now I’ve learned that it basically means that you liked the artwork and that it made you feel a lot of things ! Seriously, I’ve learned a whole new way of communication and expressing ones emotion when entering the fandom ! 

6. A time when writing drawing was really, really hard:

...Probably the beginning of May 2017 until maybe the middle of the summer ? Me coming back to Paris after my six months internship in London was a big blow in the gut to me..I didn’t take readapting to Paris well...It was hard...I also went into a bit of a depression, I think...But the summer vacation did a great deal of good ! I had time to relax and be at peace away from literally everything and the sea air and seeing my family all together was the best cure for me ! So all that spam of time was a bit hard in me being inspired and enjoying drawing. You can actually see it a bit if you are an old mutual/follower of mine ! The artworks are kinda very dense and a bit dark ? 

But all that matters is that everything is good and well now ! Let’s keep the past in the past and move on with a smile !

7. A scene or character you wrote drew that surprised you:

...Like...??? I just...don’t know what happened ? What I was thinking of when I made “The Salt King” mini series...? This cracks a smile on my face when I stumble on it lol ^^' Ours salty, sassy kings being extra ! lol 

8. How did you grow as a writer an artist this last year:

I grew a lot... I am more confident in myself and drawing with this medium (graphic artworks). I am also more detailed and since I am more confident I am now starting to challenge myself with new ways of making my art evolve ? I think that’s the biggest growth I did..To be more confident and at ease doing graphic artworks. Especially ones in the Shadowhunters universe.

9. How do you hope to grow next this year:

I wish I’ll be able to master a bit more the colored artworks (without deleting the ones in B&W, I’ll always do those ^^). I also would like to venture a bit more in drawing other characters then Malec. I won’t stop making them of course but I’d like to have fun doing other artworks that paint out different friendships and stories ? That would be a cool challenge ! ^^

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer an artist (could be another writer or fan artist or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

That would probably be the cast of Shadowhunters..! They portray those amazing characters on screen and they inspired me a whole lot. Especially Matthew Daddario and Harry Shum Jr...! Those too are one of the big reasons I joined this fandom. I fell in love with the characters they play (individually and as a couple). Also, they are both loving and caring souls..!

I can also add my big brother (who is himself an artist) who always is by my side giving me advice and teaching me new ways of drawing (like the little short cuts on your computer/photoshop ?) those are a great help to draw faster ! 

And also my lovely parabatai ( @magnusandalexander ) Anica who is always there for me when I need to vent out or talk or am stuck on an artwork ! Thank you for having my back Anica ! Love you !

And then all of you ! I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again and forever but you have all been a huge support for me ! It is because of your kindness and heartwarming words of love and encouragement that I am happy and hyped up to start a new artwork every single day ! 

So thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you...You have been a HUGE positive influence on me as an artist in this fandom...<3

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing artworks this year:

Probably my attention to details ! I am an observer in real life. More of a *stays in a corner and observes the world and its surroundings* than someone who is talkative and interacting. I’m a bit of a dreamer and that’s how I am always careful with the details. They tell more stories than you’d think ! ;) 

Then my love for blue Klein ! lol I love doing the colored artworks with those blue tints...! 

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers fan artists:

I’m very bad at this...^^' But I’m going to say to never stop believing in yourself no matter what other people might think. Don’t stop what you love to do, your passion because of some negative comments on an artwork. Try and be on the higher ground and ignore the negative comments or if they are constructive ones then take it all in, take a break if need be and get back and do another artwork with the constructive comment in mind to progress. 

Also, if you have a blank or have no inspiration. Don’t be scared, it’s not lost ! Just take a break, go out, take a stroll. Go and see friends, cook, just do something else entirely to forget about your artwork. When you are relaxed and feel that itch to have a pen or graphic tabled in you hand again then you are good to go ! <3 This usually works for me, I don’t know if it will for everyone though.. You need to find your own escape way to relax and be at ease !<3

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

YES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES ! 

I can’t say a thing about it though...=p 

I can just say that I call it “The BIG Thing” and it’s coming soon...!

Voilà !<3

14. Tag five writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read.

Anyone that wants to do this ! It’s actually a really good thing to do to take a step back and see how far you’ve gotten to in the last year ! 

[doyoufancyathought]

Too Damn Stubborn

As the crocotta slammed you against the wall, your mind flew back to when you got tangled up in this mess. Not this fight particularly, because hunting had become a part of your life so long ago and your life before was remembered in the same way one would remember a movie they had seen a long time ago. 

Your mind began to play through the events of the night when you had met the Winchester brothers, your partners in crime.

 It was about 10 years ago, and you had been hustling pool in a college town dive bar. Dean, who’s voice now called to you as you faded in and out of consciousness, had walked in with his brother Sam, and as the night drew on, had challenged you to a game of pool. He knew you were hustling, and you knew he knew. You also knew that he would try and hustle you, but you didn’t let it happen. The night had then progressed into a series of challenges, and each time, it was a draw. 

The last challenge was a shooting contest. A bar patron had set up five beer bottles for each of you along a fence outside of the bar. Because it was the middle of the country, there was no one around to make a fuss about safety technicalities. The bar’s patrons emptied into the parking lot to watch the match.

Neither you nor Dean were willing to give away the fact that you were armed to the teeth as hunters, so the barkeep was kind enough to lend his two rifles to the contest. But, because he was an old-time chauvinist, he gave the faulty one to you. You didn’t find this out until later.

Rifle in hand, you and Dean stood face to face in the parking lot. Because the rifles didn’t have scopes, you had decided that 20 yards was a good distance to shoot from. 

“So,” a teasing grin broke across your face. “you any good with a gun?”

He broke into a full-fledged grin. “Yeah, you could say I’m pretty great.”

Nodding in amusement, you gazed at the crowd that had gathered to watch. They were all drunk, which meant they were very loud and very encouraging. 

Some random guy who had elected himself as master of ceremonies whistled to get everyone’s attention. “So here’s the deal: you have to shoot your five bottles to finish the contest. First one to get their five wins. The contest isn’t done until all the bottles have been shattered. Good luck.” He walked off to the side so you and your opponent could get into position.

As you raised the butt of the rifle to your shoulder to make sure you were positioned properly, you couldn’t help but glance over at Dean. His flannel shirt was straining ever so slightly at his shoulders, and his focus was impeccable as he looked down the barrel. His footing shifted ever so slightly before he lowered his rifle, signaling that he was ready to begin. You followed suit soon after, cheeks flushed ever so slightly at having found yourself competing with such a handsome man. 

As the drunk master of ceremonies began the final countdown, your focus narrowed until your world was just you and the bottles sitting 20 yards away. He yelled “Shoot!” and your rifle found its home on your shoulder milliseconds before your eyes found the target through the iron sites. 

One bottle exploded and you were lining up your next shot before the sound finished ringing through your ears. 

Two down, three to go. Somewhere, your brain registered that you were keeping up with the man next to you. 

Three bottles lay in pieces in the dirt. As you pumped the action for your fourth round, a crunching noise met your ears instead of the smooth sound of a bullet filling the action. 

A quick glance confirmed your suspicions: your rifle was jammed. 

A growl rumbled deep in your throat. You hated to win, and you hated it even more when you weren’t able to see a challenge through to the finish. Before you could even think, your hunter instincts had kicked in, just as your competitor began lining up for his fifth and final shot. He had taken a quick break to glance your way when you had thrown your weapon to the ground in frustration, but now he was back on track. 

Quick as a whip, you had grabbed your knives from your boots and were prepping for the farthest distance you had ever thrown. 

The blades were out of your hands seconds later, and the twin crashes made you grin with pride. Sure, you hadn’t finished before your challenger, but you felt confident that you had more cool points than he did.

He had lowered his rifle and turned towards you as soon as he was done shooting, but now his mouth was agape. 

“Wha- how-” he trailed off. It didn’t help that the crowd was going crazy too.

You smiled. “I don’t think the challenge said I had to shoot all the bottles, did it? Whoops.” And with that, you turned and downed a tequila shot offered by a very drunk, very enthusiastic crowd. 

The sting of the remembered tequila matched the sting in your head as the crocotta pounced on you once again, breaking you out of your trip down flashback freeway. 

Your right hand flew to its throat as your left hand violently felt around for anything sharp enough to stab the monster with. As long as you could puncture its neck, you would be all right. 

At the edge of your vision, you could see Sam slumped against a wall, and it looked like his face was bleeding. You could hear Dean rustling around, trying to stand up, but your concern was more focused on the monster trying to kill you so it could eat your soul. Have fun with that, you big bag of dicks.

And with that, you brought a knee up into the rear end of the monster. This knocked it off balance just enough that you could manage to squirm out from under it. He recovered quicker than you did and pinned you up against the wall. One forearm was held against your throat and you struggled for breath as he slowly brought a knife out from behind his back. 

A devilish sparkle lit up his eyes as his mouth split open, revealing rows upon rows of sharp teeth. It looked like a shark’s mouth, and it appeared as if this creature enjoyed your pain. 

But he took too long to savor the moment. Dean pounced on him from behind, driving his knife into the monster’s neck and dragging him to the ground. 

You slid down the wall as you gasped for air, your hands gingerly touching your neck where you were sure marks will appear in no time. Dean pulled his knife out of the monster, and it only took one shared glance to communicate that you were okay from your ordeal. He nodded, stood up, and walked on unsteady legs to where his brother was beginning to regain consciousness.

As your body recovered from its brief time without air, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall, and wondered how the hell you were going to explain yourself. 

See, crocotta’s lure their victims in by imitating the voices of their victims loved ones. And guess who’s voice you had heard on the phone earlier? 

Deans. 

Yeah, yeah. You loved Dean. Big whoop. You had for years. Hell, you had a stupid crush on him from the moment he had looked at you with awe when you had won that stupid shooting contest years ago. But you were sure that he didn’t feel the same way.

Sure,  you could probably explain it as more of an admiration, a respect for the man. But as sure as he could spot a hustler from a mile away, he knew when you were lying. 

You blew out your lips as you heard Dean call your name.

“Come on, we all gotta hit the ER. Sammy’s gotta get his head looked at, and you should probably get your melon looked at too. He hit you pretty hard.” He spoke as he hoisted his brother to his feet and placed his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get out of this place.” 

Hours later, you sat in the hallway of the local hospital, eyes closed as you held an ice pack against your bruising neck. A quick look in the mirror had shown that a dark purple band was slowly making itself known. Just great. 

A familiar sigh filled your ears, and you cracked one eye open just in time to see Dean sit in the chair right next to you. He had a cut on his forehead that he had just had stitched up.

“Nice embroidery.” Your voice came out rough and croaky.

He grunted his amusement. “And here I was just gonna comment on your pretty necklace.” Dean gently reached a hand out and pulled your hand and ice pack away from your neck. He winced when he saw what the crocotta had done to you. He wasn’t a stranger to getting injured, and he should be used to the people around him getting hurt, but he hated it more and more when you especially got hurt. Not that he would tell anybody, of course.

Pretty soon you both settled into a comfortable silence, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell you that Sam would be okay.

When you were called into his room, Sam turned his head to look at the two of you and scoffed when he saw your somber expressions.

“Come on, you guys, don’t be so serious.”

You spoke up. “We’re not worried about you, you giant. Just thinking about the case.”

Neither you nor Dean were actually thinking about the case. You were thinking about how you were going to explain hearing Dean’s voice on the phony phone call, and Dean was thinking about his own phone call. He had heard your voice. 

But the two of you were too damn stubborn to tell the other the truth. You loved Dean Winchester, and he loved you, but neither of you had any clue. 

[orrangepoem]

imaginary friend // h.s // part two

author’s note: HERE IT IS!!! I am going to make this into a series, but I have no clue how many parts it’s going to be. I hope you enjoy!

w.c: 2.5k

summary: Harry has an imaginary friend called Y/N.

P.S: I do mention going to therapy and having depression in this part, so a trigger warning.

READ PART ONE HERE!

“I’m sorry, have we met before?”

Harry’s heart broke. No, it did more than break. It shattered, exploded, combust, all the words he could think of. Into a million pieces. This is his Y/N, he’s never been more sure of anything else. Her hair was the same color, though Harry could tell she needed a trim, and it was probably driving her mad. She always complained of her long hair, and would make jokes about shaving her head. “But I would look disgusting if I did that,” she’d say. Her pupils were wide, only allowing a small ring of color to show. Her cute little nose that always reminded Harry of a pixie, still sloped down to a point. Freckles spread across her face like constellations, and he remembered how they would disappear a bit in the winter and that’s why it was her least favorite season.

“You’re- you are Y/N, right?”

“Yeah. May I ask who you are?” She raised a hand to run it through her hair and Harry noticed her hands were a bit calloused and covered in paint. Despite the situation, he allowed himself a small smile, he always knew she was going to do something artistic.

“I’m Harry.” His introduction seemed to have a struck a chord within Y/N. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open, but no words escaped.

“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you, but I’m afraid you have me mistaken for another Y/N. I’ve got to get to class, bye.” Her words were rushed and frantic and Harry couldn’t figure out why. She put her head down and practically jogged away from Harry and into the art building.

“But…” It was too late, she was already gone. Gone from his life again.

Harry couldn’t help but think that there’s a chance, the tiniest chance that she wasn’t Y/N. She’s imaginary, don’t be so thick. Just a part of your childhood. She can’t be a real person.

But he would recognize that smell of vanilla and cinnamon anywhere. If she really was his Y/N, he refused to let her get away again.

He had to get her back.

-

Harry. Fucking HARRY. Y/N hadn’t heard that name in so long, not since she was in the beginning part of her teenage years. It caught her off guard that a boy, a very cute one at that, had come up to her. But when he said his name, it triggered something in her. All the memories had come flooding back.

For ten long years, from the time she was five till she was fifteen years of age, Y/N had weird dreams. Not nightmares, in fact the quite opposite. She’ll never forget the first time she saw him.

Y/N was having a dream about being in her backyard, when she spotted someone sitting on the ground under the big oak tree. He held his knees up to his chest and kept his eyes trained on the dirt. She slowly walked up to him and got a better look at him. He looked to be the same age as her and had brown hair, that was curly, and stuck out in every which way.

“Hello.” The boy looked up at Y/N and she could see the color of his eyes. As green as the grass he was sitting on.

“I’m Y/N.” She reached a tiny hand outward for him to shake, but he didn’t dare move. Y/N rested her arm back by her side and took her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to think of how to get the mysterious boy to open up.

“Wanna play superheroes? I like to be Wonder Woman, sometimes Poison Ivy, even though she’s one of the bad guys. You can be whoever you want!” The boy let a small smile loose, and Y/N noticed his two front teeth were slightly bigger than the rest, but she thought it was cute.

“Well c’mon!” Y/N grabbed his hand in anticipation and pulled him off the ground and began running off.

“I’m H-Harry,” he finally spoke up quietly and he wasn’t sure if she had heard but she turned around and gave him a smile.

That’s how all the dreams went, just she and Harry being kids. As she grew up in real life, she watched Harry grow as well. She always kept Harry a secret, in fear of anyone thinking that she was crazy. As she got older, Y/N thought about the possibility of Harry being real. Why else would she have dreams about the same boy for years? She wasn’t sure if she believed in fairytales, or soulmates, or anything of that nature, but the more she thought about Harry, the more her mind changed.

-

It was when she was thirteen that Y/N started getting anxious about how far this Harry situation was getting. A boy at school had gotten her attention and she tried being with him, but just couldn’t. Harry, this boy that probably didn’t even exist, had her heart, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

She confessed to her mum what had been going on and she suggested that Y/N see a therapist.

-

“What type of childhood did you have? Did you make friends with other children, or were you very timid?” Y/N was sat in a therapist’s office, goosebumps all over her skin because she was quite nervous and it was absolutely freezing in the room.

She expected to be lying down on a couch, while being asked the repetitive, “how does that make you feel?” Instead she was sat in a (rather uncomfortable) chair across from a woman called Dr. Green, who had papers strewn across her desks and children’s drawings taped to the wall behind her.

“I was quite shy, usually kept to myself. I did start to make friends once I got a bit older, but they’re all very outgoing.”

“Hmm I see. Dreams can sometimes be a bit difficult to interpret, but I would say that this ‘Harry’ boy was a way for your childhood self to cope with not having other kids to play with. Children tend to get attached to objects, or in your case, people, very easily and that’s what happened. Your brain tricked you into thinking that Harry was the perfect friend for you and you didn’t need anyone else.” Y/N nodded her head in understanding.

“What do you suggest I do?”

“It’s going to be difficult and take quite some time, but you need to slowly push Harry out of your life. Anything that may remind you of him, or if you do something regularly that you associate with him, get rid of it. But do it in steps and be patient, if you try to stop this all at once, it will be much harder.”

“I understand. Thank you so much, Dr. Green”

“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’ll see you again in two weeks to see what progress you’ve made.”

-

No progress was made. Y/N grew more and more frustrated during the two weeks while waiting for her next appointment with Dr. Green. Harry just wasn’t going away, even in her everyday life, he was always there.

Y/N decided to go to this restaurant that wasn’t too far from her house. It was old, run down, and she was always the youngest person in there, but they had the best curly fries and strawberry milkshake. She took a seat in a booth, and her usual meal was immediately brought to her. She was such a regular, the waitresses didn’t even bother with giving her a menu anymore.

“The usual, for our best customer,” Anne, the older waitress who never seemed to have a day off, placed Y/N’s fries and milkshake on the table, with a kind smile on her face.

“Thank you, Ms. Styles. Don’t you ever take a day off from work? Just for yourself or your family?”

“Oh, I wish I could sweetheart, but I’ve got to keep my little ones fed. And you can call me Anne, I think we know each other well enough by now. Enjoy love, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you, Anne.”

Y/N’s mouth watered at the food in front of her and she nearly moaned when taking a sip of her milkshake. She made a mental note to get the recipe for it before she went off to university in a few years.

Y/N picked up a curly fry and was about to eat it, but stopped. Her face fell, and her stomach was in knots. The damn fries were reminding her of Harry, because they resembled the curls on his head. She threw it back onto the plate and pushed it away from her.

“Never thought I’d see the day when Y/N Y/L/N doesn’t eat our fries,” Y/N looked up and saw that Anne had returned.

“I never thought so either. My mind is just all over.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m on my break so we can talk about it, if you would like.” Y/N nodded her head and Anne sat down in the booth across from her, but not before taking some fries. Y/N didn’t mind, she knew that Anne was always working nonstop, and probably didn’t get many breaks.

“So, what is it love?”

Y/N sighed and gave a small roll of her eyes, “boy troubles.” Anne let out a small giggle, and Y/N thought to herself that she hopes to be that beautiful when she’s Anne’s age.

“I remember those days. Getting butterflies when you saw the cute little boy you fancy in the halls at school. Then crying and thinking you’ll never find love again after he breaks your heart.”

“I think my situation is a bit more complicated, Ms. Sty- uh, sorry, Anne.” She raised her eyebrows as a signal for Y/N to further explain. She hesitated for a moment, because she liked Anne, and didn’t want to embarrass herself. Y/N took a deep breath and told Anne everything and her heart was racing when she was finished, she prayed that Anne wouldn’t think she was crazy.

“Sounds like a lot going on sweetheart and I don’t think I can give you advice on what to do because I haven’t experienced anything like that, but I will tell you that you’ll get through it. You and your mum have been coming to this restaurant since you were still in her belly. Always got fries and a milkshake, just like you. I’ve had the pleasure of watching you grow up and you have become a very strong girl and you’ll be ok.”

“Thank you, Anne, that means a lot to me.”

“And if you get over this mysterious boy in your dreams, maybe I’ll get you a date with my son,” Anne let out a laugh but Y/N got a feeling she wasn’t completely joking.

“Oh, you’ve got a son? Thought it was just you and Gemma.”

“No, I’ve got my baby boy as well, he’s about your age. My break is over now, but it was nice talking with you Y/N, come back again anytime you need, you know you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you again, Anne. Have a good rest of the night!” Y/N left the money for her food and a tip for Anne and walked out the door, letting the cold, evening air hit her face. She wondered why Anne hadn’t said her son’s name, but quickly put it to the back of her mind.

-

Y/N continued going to therapy, and going to the restaurant to have talks with Anne, but nothing was working. Harry just could not leave her mind, and Y/N became depressed. She loved Harry, although he was a part of her imagination, but she didn’t want to love him. She wanted friends, she wanted a relationship with a real person but she knew that she couldn’t be with anyone while also being in love with some imaginary boy who only appeared in her dreams.

This continued for the next two years, and Y/N just fell into a deeper hole. She felt helpless, and just wanted Harry to go away. But then things started changing, finally, things started to turn around. Y/N would never forget that day either.

February 1st. Y/N was 15. The night prior, Harry wasn’t in her dreams. She woke up feeling confused, a little sad, but also happy. When taking a nap later that day, Harry showed up in a dream, but Y/N quickly woke up. She was finally getting away from him, and wasn’t going to get sucked in.

Throughout that year, Harry came and went. Until one day, he was gone. No dreams, no nothing. There were still some things that reminded Y/N of him, but she didn’t care. She was finally making progress and wasn’t going to let anything get in the way. Finally, Harry left her life completely. Y/N went a full two months with no dreams of Harry and she knew in her heart that he was gone forever. Was she sad? Absolutely. This boy, whether he’s fake or not, had become a big part of her life, but Y/N knew she had to let him go.

-

Just when Y/N thought everything was going well, some boy named Harry had to show up. Y/N couldn’t even focus in class because he looked so much like her Harry. His eyes were the same color, the most beautiful shade of green Y/N had ever seen, and his hair was pushed back but still had those curls. His lips were the same shade of pink, and still looked soft. Those damn lips.

There was no way in hell, no way possible, that the boy who came up to her and introduced himself as Harry was her Harry. But Y/N had to make sure, she had to know. It was nearly 1 in the morning and Y/N couldn’t take it anymore, she had to find out. After she got out of class, she started talking to everyone and campus until she met someone who knew Harry and where his dorm was.

Y/N jumped out of bed and put her slippers on, not bothering with proper shoes or clothes. She grabbed a jacket, cause the London air always gets extremely cold at night, and made her way to Harry’s dorm. Thankfully, he was just in the building next to hers, so it wasn’t too far of a walk.

Second floor, room 213.

213. There it was. Y/N stood frozen in place, too terrified to move. She heard someone speaking on the other side of the door, and before she could run away, it swung open. Harry was standing in front of her, with headphones in his ears, a jacket on, and some workout shorts. She assumed he was about to go for a late-night run.

“Y/N…hey.”

“Hi. I know it’s late, I’m sorry. Can we talk? Or were you about to go somewhere?”

“We can talk. I was about to go for a run, couldn’t sleep. Do you want to come inside or…?”

“I’m not much of a runner, but we can walk around campus if you don’t mind,” Y/N gave a soft smile to let Harry know everything was ok, she could sense that he was nervous.

“O-ok.”

SEND ME REQUESTS AND GIVE FEEDBACK! Another side note, I am in no way a professional therapist, so the part where Dr. Green was talking to Y/N wasn’t proper advice or anything, I just tried my best to think from a therapist’s point of view. 

[batterymonster2021]

How to learn any language in six months | Chris Lonsdale | TEDxLingnanUniversity

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-to-learn-any-language-in-six-months-chris-lonsdale-tedxlingnanuniversity-5/

How to learn any language in six months | Chris Lonsdale | TEDxLingnanUniversity

Translator: TED Translators admin Reviewer: Allam Zedan The persons within the back, are you able to hear me evidently? Adequate, excellent. Have you ever ever held a query in intellect for goodbye that it becomes a part of how you feel? Possibly even a part of who you might be as a character? Good I’ve had a question in my intellect for many, many years and that’s: how are you going to speed up studying? Now, this is an exciting query in view that in case you speed up learning, you can spend much less time at college.And should you study really rapid, you in general would not ought to go to tuition at all. Now, after I was once young, institution was once type of ok but… I determined quite by and large that college received in the way in which of studying so I had this query in mind: How do you learn faster? And this commenced after I was once very, very young, when I used to be eleven years old, I wrote a letter to researchers in the Soviet Union, asking about hypnopaedia, this is sleep-learning, where you get a tape recorder, you place it beside your bed and it activates in the core of the night time when you are slumbering, and you are speculated to be studying from this.A just right concept, lamentably it doesn’t work. But, hypnopaedia did open the doors to research in different areas and we now have had super discoveries about finding out that began with that first question. I went on from there to end up enthusiastic about psychology and i’ve been worried in psychology in many extraordinary ways for the relaxation of my existence up except this point. In 1981, I took myself to China and that i determined that I used to be going to be native level in chinese language inside of two years. Now, you ought to have an understanding of that in 1981, everybody concept chinese language was fairly, quite difficult and that a Westerner would learn for 10 years or more and never quite get superb at it. And i additionally went in with a further notion which was: taking the entire conclusions from psychological study up to that factor and making use of them to the learning system.What used to be rather cool used to be that in six months I used to be fluent in Mandarin chinese language and it took just a little bit longer to get up to native. However I appeared round and that i noticed all of these folks from distinct countries struggling terribly with chinese language, I noticed chinese men and women struggling terribly to gain knowledge of English and different languages, and so my question got refined all the way down to: how are you going to help a common grownup be trained a brand new language rapidly, easily and easily? Now this is a particularly, really main question in contemporary world. We have now huge challenges with environment, now we have big challenges with social dislocation, with wars, all varieties of things occurring and if we are not able to keep in touch, we’re rather going to have situation fixing these issues. So we ought to be competent to speak every other’s languages, that is fairly, rather main. The query then is: How do you do that? Well, it’s simply quite effortless. You appear round for people who can already do it, you seem for circumstances where it can be already working and then you identify the ideas and apply them. It’s referred to as modelling and i have been looking at language learning and modelling language learning for approximately 15 to two decades now.And my conclusion, my commentary from that is that any grownup can study a 2nd language to fluency inside six months. Now after I say this, most people consider i am crazy, this isn’t feasible. So let me remind every body of the historical past of human progress, it’s all about expanding our limits. In 1950, everybody believed that strolling one mile in four minutes was once not possible, after which Roger Bannister did it in 1956 and from there it is acquired shorter and shorter. A hundred years ago everybody believed that heavy stuff doesn’t fly.Besides it does and we all know this. How does heavy stuff fly? We reorganise the material utilizing ideas that now we have realized from watching nature, birds on this case. And at present now we have long past even additional… We have long gone even additional, so which you could fly a vehicle. That you could purchase any such for a pair a hundred.000 US bucks. We’ve automobiles on the earth that fly. And there’s yet another strategy to fly which we’ve realized from squirrels. So all you have got to do is copy what a flying squirrel does, build a go well with called a wing suit and off you go, which you could fly like a squirrel. Now most folks, quite a lot of persons, i would not say each person however quite a few individuals think they are not able to draw. However there are some key principles, 5 principles, that you may apply to learning to attract and which you can without a doubt learn to draw in five days. So, if you happen to draw like this, you learn these standards for five days and follow them and after five days you could draw anything like this.Now i do know that is authentic for the reason that that was once my first drawing and after five days of making use of these principles that was once what I was competent to do. And i looked at this and that i went: "Wow, so that is how I look like when I’m concentrating so intensely that my mind is exploding." So, any person can be trained to attract in 5 days and in the identical way, with the same common sense, someone can study a 2d language in six months. How? There are 5 principles and 7 actions. There may be just a few extra but these are most likely core. And earlier than I get into these I just wish to speak about two myths, I want to dispel two myths.The primary is that you simply need talent. Let me tell you about Zoe. Zoe came from Australia, went to Holland, used to be seeking to study Dutch, struggling totally, tremendously… A nice deal and in the end folks had been announcing: "you’re utterly vain," "you are now not gifted," "stop," "you’re a waste of time" and she or he was very, very depressed. And then she got here across these five standards, she moved to Brazil and she utilized them and in six months she used to be fluent in Portuguese, so talent would not topic. Men and women additionally feel that immersion in a brand new country is how to gain knowledge of a language. However appear around Hong Kong, seem at the entire westerners who’ve been here for 10 years, who do not speak a phrase of chinese language. Appear at all of the chinese dwelling in the united states, Britain, Australia, Canada have been there 10, twenty years and they don’t converse any English. Immersion per se does now not work. Why? When you consider that a drowning man can’t gain knowledge of to swim. Whilst you do not communicate a language, you’re like a baby.And if you drop your self into a context which is all adults speaking about stuff over your head, you will not learn. So, what are the 5 principles that you just ought to pay awareness to? First: the 4 phrases, concentration, meaning, relevance and reminiscence, and these interconnect in very, very principal approaches. Notably when you’re talking about studying. Include me on a journey by way of a wooded area.You go on a stroll via a wooded area and you see some thing like this… Little marks on a tree, maybe you pay concentration, probably you don’t. You go yet another 50 metres and you see this… You will have to be paying attention. Another 50 metres, if you haven’t been paying attention, you see this… And at this factor, you’re paying awareness. And you’ve just learned that this… Is main, it can be imperative considering it way this, and anything that’s associated, any information related to your survival is stuff that you’re going to pay attention to and as a consequence you are going to take into account it. If it is involving your private targets, then you are going to pay concentration to it. If it is primary, you are going to consider it. So, the first rule, first principle for studying a language is focus on language content that is relevant to you.Which brings us to tools. We grasp tools via utilising instruments and we be trained tools the fastest when they are central to us. So let me share a story. A keyboard is a instrument. Typing chinese a exact approach, there are ways for this. That is a software. I had a colleague decades ago who went to night time tuition; Tuesday night time, Thursday night time, two hours at any time when, practising at residence, she spent nine months, and she did not learn to style chinese. And one night we had a quandary. We had forty eight hours to provide a training guide in chinese.And he or she acquired the job, and i can warranty you in 48 hours, she learned to sort chinese given that it was once crucial, it used to be significant, it was once major, she used to be making use of a instrument to create value. So the second precept for learning a language is to use your language as a tool to be in contact right from day one. As a kid does. Once I first arrived in China, I didn’t converse a phrase of chinese, and on my 2d week, I received to take a coach journey overnight. I spent eight hours sitting within the eating vehicle talking to one of the crucial guards on the coach, he took an interest in me for some purpose, and we simply chatted all night in chinese language and he was drawing graphics and making movements together with his palms and facial expressions and piece with the aid of piece by piece I understood more and more.But what was once particularly cool, was two weeks later, when individuals have been speakme chinese round me, I used to be figuring out some of this and i hadn’t even made any effort to study that. What had occurred, i would absorbed it that night time on the teach, which brings us to the 1/3 principle. Whilst you first comprehend the message, then you will acquire the language unconsciously. And this is particularly, relatively good documented now, it’s whatever referred to as understandable input. There may be 20 or 30 years of research on this, Stephen Krashen, a chief in the subject, has released all kinds of these extraordinary studies and that is just from one in all them. The purple bars exhibit the rankings on one of a kind assessments for language. The red folks were persons who had realized by means of grammar and formal study, the golf green ones are the ones who realized by way of comprehensible input. So, comprehension works. Comprehension is vital and language finding out just isn’t about collecting tons of skills. In many, many approaches it is about physiological coaching. A lady i know from Taiwan did quality in English at university, she bought A grades all the way by means of, went by means of university, A grades, went to the USA and discovered she couldn’t comprehend what persons were saying.And folks began asking her: "Are you deaf?" and he or she was once. English deaf. Due to the fact we have now filters in our brain that filter in the sounds that we are acquainted with they usually filter the sounds of languages that we’re no longer. And if you cannot hear it, you is not going to realise it, for those who are not able to comprehend it, you are not going to study it. So that you surely need to be able to listen to these sounds. And there are ways to do that nevertheless it’s physiological coaching. Speakme takes muscle. You could have obtained 43 muscle groups to your face, you ought to coordinate these in a way that you make sounds that different individuals will realise. In case you’ve ever done a brand new recreation for a few days, and you know how your body feels? Hurts? If your face is hurting, you’re doing it proper. And the final principle is state. Psycho-physiological state. If you are unhappy, angry, concerned, upset, you are now not going to learn. Interval. If you are happy, cozy, in an Alpha mind state, curious, you’re going to be taught quite speedily, and very mainly you need to be tolerant of ambiguity.If you are a type of folks who wishes to comprehend one hundred percentage each phrase you’re listening to, you’re going to go nuts, on the grounds that you can be highly upset all the time, due to the fact that you’re not best. If you are at ease with getting some, no longer getting some, just paying awareness to what you do have an understanding of, you are going to be satisfactory, comfy, and you can be finding out speedily. So founded on those five standards, what are the seven moves that you are taking? Quantity one: pay attention a lot. I name it mind soaking. You set your self in a context the place you’re hearing lots and tons and tons of a language and it isn’t important should you recognize it or not. You’re being attentive to the rhythms, to patterns that repeat, you’re paying attention to matters that stand out.(chinese) Po nozi. (English) So, simply soak your mind on this. The 2d motion is that you simply get the which means first, even before you get the words. You go: "well how do I do that? I do not know the phrases!" well, you realise what these distinct postures mean. Human conversation is physique language in lots of, many methods, so much body language. From physique language that you would be able to recognize quite a lot of conversation, for that reason, you are figuring out, you’re acquiring by way of comprehensible input. And you could also use patterns that you recognize. If you are a chinese language speaker of Mandarin and Cantonese and you go to Vietnam, you’re going to comprehend 60 percent of what they are saying to you in everyday dialog, on account that Vietnamese is set 30 percent Mandarin, 30 percent Cantonese. The 0.33 action: mixing. You most commonly have on no account thought of this however should you’ve bought 10 verbs, 10 nouns and 10 adjectives, that you would be able to say one thousand different things. Language is a inventive process. What do infants do? Good enough, "me", "bathtub", "now". Good enough, that is how they keep in touch. So mixing, get inventive, have fun with it, it would not ought to be excellent, just has to work. And when you are doing this, you focus on the core.What does that mean? Good, any language is excessive frequency content. In English one thousand phrases covers eighty five percent of some thing you are ever going to assert in daily communique. 3000 words gives you ninety eight percent of whatever you are going to say in daily dialog. You obtained 3000 words, you’re speaking the language. The leisure is icing on the cake. And when you’re simply beginning with a new language, start with your device box. Week quantity one, to your new language you say matters like: "How do you say that?" "i don’t have an understanding of," "repeat that please," "what does that mean?" all to your target language. You’re utilising it as a device, making it valuable to you, it is important to be trained different things in regards to the language. By way of week two, you must be announcing matters like: "me," "this," "you," "that," "give," you know, "hot," simple pronouns, easy nouns, simple verbs, simple adjectives, speaking like a baby.And through the 1/3 or fourth week, you’re entering "glue words." "even though," "however," "thus," these are logical transformers that tie bits of a language collectively, enabling you to make extra elaborate that means. At that factor you are speakme. And when you’re doing that, you will have to get yourself a language parent. Should you appear at how kids and dad and mom engage, you can realise what this implies. When a little one is speakme, it’ll be utilising simple words, simple combos, mostly relatively strange, regularly very unusual pronunciation, other people from external the loved ones do not have an understanding of it. But the mothers and fathers do. And so the child has a secure environment, will get self belief. The dad and mom speak to the youngsters with body language and with simple language they comprehend the little one understands. So you might have a comprehensible input atmosphere that’s safe, we realize it works; otherwise none of you may speak your mother tongue. So that you get your self a language father or mother, who’s somebody concerned with you as a man or woman who will keep in touch with you pretty much as an equal, however pay concentration to support you fully grasp the message.There are 4 ideas of a language parent. Spouses aren’t very good at this, adequate? However the 4 principles are, initially, they are going to work hard to realise what you mean even when you’re way off beat. Secondly, they’re going to in no way correct your mistakes. Thirdly, they are going to feed again their understanding of what you might be saying so to respond correctly and get that suggestions and then they’re going to use words that you know. The sixth factor you have got to do, is reproduction the face. You obtained to get the muscle tissues working right, so which you could sound in a technique that individuals will comprehend you. There may be a couple of matters you do. One is that you hear the way it feels, and consider the way it sounds this means that you have a suggestions loop operating to your face, however ideally if that you may seem at a native speaker and simply observe how they use their face, let your unconscious intellect soak up the principles, then you are going to be competent to opt for it up.And if you are not able to get a local speaker to appear at, you can use stuff like this… (female voice) Sing, music, king, stung, hung. (Chris Lonsdale) And the final thought right here, the final action you have got to take is some thing that I call "direct join". What does this mean? Good most men and women studying a second language style of take the mother tongue words and the target words and go over them over and over of their intellect to try and recall them. Particularly inefficient. What you have to do is recognize that everything you realize is an image within your intellect, it can be emotions, in case you speak about hearth, you can smell the smoke, that you would be able to hear the crackling, you will see the flames, so what you do, is you go into that imagery and all of that reminiscence and you come out with an additional pathway. So I name it "same field, distinct course". You come out of that pathway and also you construct it over time, you become more and more skilled at simply connecting the new sounds to these graphics that you have already got, into that inner representation.And over time you even come to be naturally good at that approach, that becomes unconscious. So, there are five ideas that you need to work with, seven moves, in case you do any of them, you’re going to fortify. And don’t forget these are matters beneath your control as the learner. Do them all and you’re going to be fluent in a 2nd language in six months. Thanks. (Applause) .

[airoasis]

How to learn any language in six months | Chris Lonsdale | TEDxLingnanUniversity

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/how-to-learn-any-language-in-six-months-chris-lonsdale-tedxlingnanuniversity-5/

How to learn any language in six months | Chris Lonsdale | TEDxLingnanUniversity

Translator: TED Translators admin Reviewer: Allam Zedan The persons within the back, are you able to hear me evidently? Adequate, excellent. Have you ever ever held a query in intellect for goodbye that it becomes a part of how you feel? Possibly even a part of who you might be as a character? Good I’ve had a question in my intellect for many, many years and that’s: how are you going to speed up studying? Now, this is an exciting query in view that in case you speed up learning, you can spend much less time at college.And should you study really rapid, you in general would not ought to go to tuition at all. Now, after I was once young, institution was once type of ok but… I determined quite by and large that college received in the way in which of studying so I had this query in mind: How do you learn faster? And this commenced after I was once very, very young, when I used to be eleven years old, I wrote a letter to researchers in the Soviet Union, asking about hypnopaedia, this is sleep-learning, where you get a tape recorder, you place it beside your bed and it activates in the core of the night time when you are slumbering, and you are speculated to be studying from this.A just right concept, lamentably it doesn’t work. But, hypnopaedia did open the doors to research in different areas and we now have had super discoveries about finding out that began with that first question. I went on from there to end up enthusiastic about psychology and i’ve been worried in psychology in many extraordinary ways for the relaxation of my existence up except this point. In 1981, I took myself to China and that i determined that I used to be going to be native level in chinese language inside of two years. Now, you ought to have an understanding of that in 1981, everybody concept chinese language was fairly, quite difficult and that a Westerner would learn for 10 years or more and never quite get superb at it. And i additionally went in with a further notion which was: taking the entire conclusions from psychological study up to that factor and making use of them to the learning system.What used to be rather cool used to be that in six months I used to be fluent in Mandarin chinese language and it took just a little bit longer to get up to native. However I appeared round and that i noticed all of these folks from distinct countries struggling terribly with chinese language, I noticed chinese men and women struggling terribly to gain knowledge of English and different languages, and so my question got refined all the way down to: how are you going to help a common grownup be trained a brand new language rapidly, easily and easily? Now this is a particularly, really main question in contemporary world. We have now huge challenges with environment, now we have big challenges with social dislocation, with wars, all varieties of things occurring and if we are not able to keep in touch, we’re rather going to have situation fixing these issues. So we ought to be competent to speak every other’s languages, that is fairly, rather main. The query then is: How do you do that? Well, it’s simply quite effortless. You appear round for people who can already do it, you seem for circumstances where it can be already working and then you identify the ideas and apply them. It’s referred to as modelling and i have been looking at language learning and modelling language learning for approximately 15 to two decades now.And my conclusion, my commentary from that is that any grownup can study a 2nd language to fluency inside six months. Now after I say this, most people consider i am crazy, this isn’t feasible. So let me remind every body of the historical past of human progress, it’s all about expanding our limits. In 1950, everybody believed that strolling one mile in four minutes was once not possible, after which Roger Bannister did it in 1956 and from there it is acquired shorter and shorter. A hundred years ago everybody believed that heavy stuff doesn’t fly.Besides it does and we all know this. How does heavy stuff fly? We reorganise the material utilizing ideas that now we have realized from watching nature, birds on this case. And at present now we have long past even additional… We have long gone even additional, so which you could fly a vehicle. That you could purchase any such for a pair a hundred.000 US bucks. We’ve automobiles on the earth that fly. And there’s yet another strategy to fly which we’ve realized from squirrels. So all you have got to do is copy what a flying squirrel does, build a go well with called a wing suit and off you go, which you could fly like a squirrel. Now most folks, quite a lot of persons, i would not say each person however quite a few individuals think they are not able to draw. However there are some key principles, 5 principles, that you may apply to learning to attract and which you can without a doubt learn to draw in five days. So, if you happen to draw like this, you learn these standards for five days and follow them and after five days you could draw anything like this.Now i do know that is authentic for the reason that that was once my first drawing and after five days of making use of these principles that was once what I was competent to do. And i looked at this and that i went: "Wow, so that is how I look like when I’m concentrating so intensely that my mind is exploding." So, any person can be trained to attract in 5 days and in the identical way, with the same common sense, someone can study a 2d language in six months. How? There are 5 principles and 7 actions. There may be just a few extra but these are most likely core. And earlier than I get into these I just wish to speak about two myths, I want to dispel two myths.The primary is that you simply need talent. Let me tell you about Zoe. Zoe came from Australia, went to Holland, used to be seeking to study Dutch, struggling totally, tremendously… A nice deal and in the end folks had been announcing: "you’re utterly vain," "you are now not gifted," "stop," "you’re a waste of time" and she or he was very, very depressed. And then she got here across these five standards, she moved to Brazil and she utilized them and in six months she used to be fluent in Portuguese, so talent would not topic. Men and women additionally feel that immersion in a brand new country is how to gain knowledge of a language. However appear around Hong Kong, seem at the entire westerners who’ve been here for 10 years, who do not speak a phrase of chinese language. Appear at all of the chinese dwelling in the united states, Britain, Australia, Canada have been there 10, twenty years and they don’t converse any English. Immersion per se does now not work. Why? When you consider that a drowning man can’t gain knowledge of to swim. Whilst you do not communicate a language, you’re like a baby.And if you drop your self into a context which is all adults speaking about stuff over your head, you will not learn. So, what are the 5 principles that you just ought to pay awareness to? First: the 4 phrases, concentration, meaning, relevance and reminiscence, and these interconnect in very, very principal approaches. Notably when you’re talking about studying. Include me on a journey by way of a wooded area.You go on a stroll via a wooded area and you see some thing like this… Little marks on a tree, maybe you pay concentration, probably you don’t. You go yet another 50 metres and you see this… You will have to be paying attention. Another 50 metres, if you haven’t been paying attention, you see this… And at this factor, you’re paying awareness. And you’ve just learned that this… Is main, it can be imperative considering it way this, and anything that’s associated, any information related to your survival is stuff that you’re going to pay attention to and as a consequence you are going to take into account it. If it is involving your private targets, then you are going to pay concentration to it. If it is primary, you are going to consider it. So, the first rule, first principle for studying a language is focus on language content that is relevant to you.Which brings us to tools. We grasp tools via utilising instruments and we be trained tools the fastest when they are central to us. So let me share a story. A keyboard is a instrument. Typing chinese a exact approach, there are ways for this. That is a software. I had a colleague decades ago who went to night time tuition; Tuesday night time, Thursday night time, two hours at any time when, practising at residence, she spent nine months, and she did not learn to style chinese. And one night we had a quandary. We had forty eight hours to provide a training guide in chinese.And he or she acquired the job, and i can warranty you in 48 hours, she learned to sort chinese given that it was once crucial, it used to be significant, it was once major, she used to be making use of a instrument to create value. So the second precept for learning a language is to use your language as a tool to be in contact right from day one. As a kid does. Once I first arrived in China, I didn’t converse a phrase of chinese, and on my 2d week, I received to take a coach journey overnight. I spent eight hours sitting within the eating vehicle talking to one of the crucial guards on the coach, he took an interest in me for some purpose, and we simply chatted all night in chinese language and he was drawing graphics and making movements together with his palms and facial expressions and piece with the aid of piece by piece I understood more and more.But what was once particularly cool, was two weeks later, when individuals have been speakme chinese round me, I used to be figuring out some of this and i hadn’t even made any effort to study that. What had occurred, i would absorbed it that night time on the teach, which brings us to the 1/3 principle. Whilst you first comprehend the message, then you will acquire the language unconsciously. And this is particularly, relatively good documented now, it’s whatever referred to as understandable input. There may be 20 or 30 years of research on this, Stephen Krashen, a chief in the subject, has released all kinds of these extraordinary studies and that is just from one in all them. The purple bars exhibit the rankings on one of a kind assessments for language. The red folks were persons who had realized by means of grammar and formal study, the golf green ones are the ones who realized by way of comprehensible input. So, comprehension works. Comprehension is vital and language finding out just isn’t about collecting tons of skills. In many, many approaches it is about physiological coaching. A lady i know from Taiwan did quality in English at university, she bought A grades all the way by means of, went by means of university, A grades, went to the USA and discovered she couldn’t comprehend what persons were saying.And folks began asking her: "Are you deaf?" and he or she was once. English deaf. Due to the fact we have now filters in our brain that filter in the sounds that we are acquainted with they usually filter the sounds of languages that we’re no longer. And if you cannot hear it, you is not going to realise it, for those who are not able to comprehend it, you are not going to study it. So that you surely need to be able to listen to these sounds. And there are ways to do that nevertheless it’s physiological coaching. Speakme takes muscle. You could have obtained 43 muscle groups to your face, you ought to coordinate these in a way that you make sounds that different individuals will realise. In case you’ve ever done a brand new recreation for a few days, and you know how your body feels? Hurts? If your face is hurting, you’re doing it proper. And the final principle is state. Psycho-physiological state. If you are unhappy, angry, concerned, upset, you are now not going to learn. Interval. If you are happy, cozy, in an Alpha mind state, curious, you’re going to be taught quite speedily, and very mainly you need to be tolerant of ambiguity.If you are a type of folks who wishes to comprehend one hundred percentage each phrase you’re listening to, you’re going to go nuts, on the grounds that you can be highly upset all the time, due to the fact that you’re not best. If you are at ease with getting some, no longer getting some, just paying awareness to what you do have an understanding of, you are going to be satisfactory, comfy, and you can be finding out speedily. So founded on those five standards, what are the seven moves that you are taking? Quantity one: pay attention a lot. I name it mind soaking. You set your self in a context the place you’re hearing lots and tons and tons of a language and it isn’t important should you recognize it or not. You’re being attentive to the rhythms, to patterns that repeat, you’re paying attention to matters that stand out.(chinese) Po nozi. (English) So, simply soak your mind on this. The 2d motion is that you simply get the which means first, even before you get the words. You go: "well how do I do that? I do not know the phrases!" well, you realise what these distinct postures mean. Human conversation is physique language in lots of, many methods, so much body language. From physique language that you would be able to recognize quite a lot of conversation, for that reason, you are figuring out, you’re acquiring by way of comprehensible input. And you could also use patterns that you recognize. If you are a chinese language speaker of Mandarin and Cantonese and you go to Vietnam, you’re going to comprehend 60 percent of what they are saying to you in everyday dialog, on account that Vietnamese is set 30 percent Mandarin, 30 percent Cantonese. The 0.33 action: mixing. You most commonly have on no account thought of this however should you’ve bought 10 verbs, 10 nouns and 10 adjectives, that you would be able to say one thousand different things. Language is a inventive process. What do infants do? Good enough, "me", "bathtub", "now". Good enough, that is how they keep in touch. So mixing, get inventive, have fun with it, it would not ought to be excellent, just has to work. And when you are doing this, you focus on the core.What does that mean? Good, any language is excessive frequency content. In English one thousand phrases covers eighty five percent of some thing you are ever going to assert in daily communique. 3000 words gives you ninety eight percent of whatever you are going to say in daily dialog. You obtained 3000 words, you’re speaking the language. The leisure is icing on the cake. And when you’re simply beginning with a new language, start with your device box. Week quantity one, to your new language you say matters like: "How do you say that?" "i don’t have an understanding of," "repeat that please," "what does that mean?" all to your target language. You’re utilising it as a device, making it valuable to you, it is important to be trained different things in regards to the language. By way of week two, you must be announcing matters like: "me," "this," "you," "that," "give," you know, "hot," simple pronouns, easy nouns, simple verbs, simple adjectives, speaking like a baby.And through the 1/3 or fourth week, you’re entering "glue words." "even though," "however," "thus," these are logical transformers that tie bits of a language collectively, enabling you to make extra elaborate that means. At that factor you are speakme. And when you’re doing that, you will have to get yourself a language parent. Should you appear at how kids and dad and mom engage, you can realise what this implies. When a little one is speakme, it’ll be utilising simple words, simple combos, mostly relatively strange, regularly very unusual pronunciation, other people from external the loved ones do not have an understanding of it. But the mothers and fathers do. And so the child has a secure environment, will get self belief. The dad and mom speak to the youngsters with body language and with simple language they comprehend the little one understands. So you might have a comprehensible input atmosphere that’s safe, we realize it works; otherwise none of you may speak your mother tongue. So that you get your self a language father or mother, who’s somebody concerned with you as a man or woman who will keep in touch with you pretty much as an equal, however pay concentration to support you fully grasp the message.There are 4 ideas of a language parent. Spouses aren’t very good at this, adequate? However the 4 principles are, initially, they are going to work hard to realise what you mean even when you’re way off beat. Secondly, they’re going to in no way correct your mistakes. Thirdly, they are going to feed again their understanding of what you might be saying so to respond correctly and get that suggestions and then they’re going to use words that you know. The sixth factor you have got to do, is reproduction the face. You obtained to get the muscle tissues working right, so which you could sound in a technique that individuals will comprehend you. There may be a couple of matters you do. One is that you hear the way it feels, and consider the way it sounds this means that you have a suggestions loop operating to your face, however ideally if that you may seem at a native speaker and simply observe how they use their face, let your unconscious intellect soak up the principles, then you are going to be competent to opt for it up.And if you are not able to get a local speaker to appear at, you can use stuff like this… (female voice) Sing, music, king, stung, hung. (Chris Lonsdale) And the final thought right here, the final action you have got to take is some thing that I call "direct join". What does this mean? Good most men and women studying a second language style of take the mother tongue words and the target words and go over them over and over of their intellect to try and recall them. Particularly inefficient. What you have to do is recognize that everything you realize is an image within your intellect, it can be emotions, in case you speak about hearth, you can smell the smoke, that you would be able to hear the crackling, you will see the flames, so what you do, is you go into that imagery and all of that reminiscence and you come out with an additional pathway. So I name it "same field, distinct course". You come out of that pathway and also you construct it over time, you become more and more skilled at simply connecting the new sounds to these graphics that you have already got, into that inner representation.And over time you even come to be naturally good at that approach, that becomes unconscious. So, there are five ideas that you need to work with, seven moves, in case you do any of them, you’re going to fortify. And don’t forget these are matters beneath your control as the learner. Do them all and you’re going to be fluent in a 2nd language in six months. Thanks. (Applause) .

[kidicarus13]

Ares Mission Journal, Astronaut Philip Lester

Summary: The Phan NASA AU that we’ve all been waiting for. Don’t tell me that you haven’t been waiting your whole life for this, because lets be honest, you’d be lying to yourself.

Word Count: 23,324

Warnings: Lots of pain and fluff and angst, the lovely slow burn angst so strap yourself in for that lads.

A/N: I actually originally wrote this for my astronomy final project (minus the swearing and I changed the names around so my astronomy teacher didn’t look up the people’s names and discover that I’m writing about actual people). Yes, I did write gay fanfiction and turn it into my forty-five year old male astronomy teacher with a wife. But he probably enjoyed it, honestly. Lots of inspiration from @mangothatismelancholy​‘s lovely story Misfit on Wattpad (go read it like seriously it’s won a WATTY it’s so fucking amazing please go read it).

This fic is also on wattpad exactly the same, if you wanna check it out!

Ares Mission Journal, Astronaut Philip Lester

March 23rd, 2037

They say that in life you never completely get what you want.

They say that there’s always a point where you just can’t do anything anymore, where there’s that final obstacle you will never make it over, that there is always someone better than you.

Throughout my entire life I’d chosen to ignore this outlook on life where you always assume the worst. Because if you always assume the worst thing will happen then how do you ever get the motivation to try in the first place?

This was my mindset when I applied to be an astronaut on the Ares Missions.

But people all around me, even my closest family and friends told me that it was unreasonable, that I shouldn’t get my hopes up and I should find something else to do for when I inevitably get rejected. So many people told me this, that I actually started to believe it.

But then I got the letter back from NASA.

And I’d gotten accepted to be one of the astronauts on the Ares mission.

To say that I freaked out is an understatement, really. I was so ecstatic and excited and relieved that all of my hard work and all of those long years at college had finally paid off in the best way possible. Out of millions and millions of people that applied, somehow I was one of the five selected. One of the five.

And I’ve been given the job of recording everything that happens on this mission--the training, the launch, the flight, Mars, and the departure from Mars. It’s a really important job, considering what I’m writing could end up published in newspapers and scientific articles for future generations. But no pressure (nose pressure), right?

So far I’ve heard absolutely nothing about any of the other astronauts on my team, as we are not allowed to post online that we’ve gotten accepted. I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow (our first day of training) to meet the rest of the crew. Honestly, I’m somewhere between excited and terrified to meet them. I mean, we’ll be spending the next three and a half years together, which would be a very long time if we all ended up not being able to stand each other. But just like everything else I’ve done in my life, I’m looking at this in the best way possible. NASA most likely chose people that would get along exceedingly and have traits that complemented each other so that we would work together stupendously on Mars under high-pressure and tense situations.

Who knows, maybe I’ll be meeting my four new best friends tomorrow, if NASA really did choose people in that fashion. Maybe I’ll even meet the person I’m meant to be with and we’ll fall in--no.

No, that’s absolutely crazy. Forget I ever even mentioned the whole thing. I’ll record how well everything ends up going tomorrow after the first day of training.

March 24th, 2037

I just want to reiterate my thanks to NASA for giving me this experience. Walking into the headquarters of NASA today was the most surreal thing that has ever happened to me. Just taking a step inside, watching everyone turn to me and look at me with respect, seeing the spaceship I’ll end up leaving in soon in the process of construction.

Someone needed to pinch me, because honestly, none of it felt like it could possibly be real.

And the other members of the crew were all absolutely amazing. All of us are so different yet weirdly compatible as a group (which, once again, was probably NASA’s intention). Well . . . almost. I’m sure we’ll get there soon.

The first crew member I met was Daniel Howell. From what I could gather about him, he’s calm and cool and collected, all of the time. I assume that he won’t crack under pressure (at least not noticeably), so if for any reason we get into a bad situation, he’ll help us pull through it. But on the downside, he seems to struggle with caring about people. All of us were sat in a circle, and I turned and asked him a single question.

“So, how are you? Excited for the upcoming training?” I asked cheerfully, plastering a huge smile on my face (which wasn’t hard, considering I was already bursting with happiness and bubbliness). But as a smile formed on my face, a frown appeared on his.

“Look, I know we’re both on this mission together, and you’re really excited, but . . .” he trailed off, and it looked like maybe, just for a second his eyes flickered warmly towards me. But just like a lighter, as soon as his eyes brightened, they fizzled out.

“But . . .?” I questioned, leaning my head forward in curiosity.

“I think it would be best if we only talked when absolutely necessary, Phillip.” By now everyone else in the room had turned to stare at us.

“W-what? Why?” I stuttered. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

Dan sighed, almost looking guilty--but not quite. “Philip.”

“It’s Phil, actually,” I corrected before I could stop myself.

“Phil, sorry. Look, we’re here to get to Mars, that doesn’t mean we have to be best friends,” he stated flatly.

“W . . .” I trailed off. Without a second glance back towards me, Dan stood up and pulled his over to a corner where he proceeded to get on his phone and ignore us.

One of the other three guys, Tyler, who’d been staring at me in shock for the past five minutes walked over to me and unceremoniously collapsed in a chair beside me.

“What an ass, huh?” he spectated, gesturing over at Dan.

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” I muttered, looking down at the carpeted ground.

“Hey, don’t let him get to you, alright?” Tyler said, playfully punching my shoulder. “Anyways, this is Anthony,” he pointed to a guy with dark brown hair and brown eyes (nothing like Dan’s eyes, though), which were squinting in distaste at the piece of paper he was scribbling on. “He’s clearly the smart one out of all of us. And that’s Connor over there, he’ll be the communicator between us and Earth.” I glanced over at Connor, who looked up from his computer for a moment before returning to typing at the speed of light. “You’ve already met Dan, obviously,” Tyler said, turning to scoff in his direction. Dan was hunched over in his chair over his phone, bent over just enough that his dark chocolate brown fringe fell down to cover his hazel eyes. His whole body was tense, and he seemed to be trying to draw himself in on himself to get as small as he physically could. Most likely he just heard Tyler talking about him and got flustered. But why? If he didn’t want to be friends with any of us, why did he seem to care about Tyler’s opinions of him?

Unless maybe . . . he does care, and he was lying when he said he didn’t want to be friends with us.

And that’s when I made the internal decision that no matter what, regardless of anything Dan says, I’m going to become his best friend, and I’m going to find out why he doesn’t think he can let anyone in his life.

And so I made this promise to myself, in the middle of a NASA conference room, with Tyler talking a mile a minute next to me about his entire life story. Even if it would put me through pain, I was still determined to get to know him.

April 18th, 2037

Today is the last day before we leave. Our last day on Earth before we’re shot into space in a piece of metal that may or may not explode.

For these past few weeks we’ve been training nonstop to be prepared for the strange conditions on Mars (if you’d wish to read a full in-depth long journal about all of training we did and how it affected us, then go read that document. However, this particular journal log will be dedicated to how us as a group gets along and our interactions on Mars, as well as a sort of “personal diary” for me to write down my favorite experiences of the trip). But in these weeks, I still haven’t made any progress with Dan. The rest of the group keep telling me to just let it be, let him be the silent, resilient, emotionless member of our group that can bench press 250 pounds (seriously, I’m not joking). I know that somewhere inside of him, a part of him is screaming, begging and desperately craving to show emotion, to have a friend. And so I refuse to give up, no matter how insane people tell me I’m being.

Speaking of insane, a group of Russian scientists have recently been begging NASA and Americans not to send our mission up to Mars. They say that supposedly the radiation and UV rays from the sun can make us blind, or give us cancer that makes your body slowly deteriorate from the inside. The scientists here at NASA told us that they’re just making stuff up to stop our mission from going to Mars before them. I mean seriously, Russia, previously the Soviet Union really thought that we would take there cockamammy advice about cancelling a space mission? They’ve got to be mental to believe that we’d cancel it, especially when we’ve come this far.

Seriously, we’re leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow!

To say I’m excited is an understatement--I’m ecstatic. Even though the risk of the spaceship exploding persists, I still want to go. After all, dying while trying to accomplish my dream doesn’t sound that bad. At least I’ve chased my dreams and never gave up on them, unlike other people who think their dreams being a reality is impossible. I’d much rather die trying to make a dream a reality than doing something I wouldn’t enjoy doing for the rest of my life, always wondering what if . . .

April 18th, 2037, later

I didn’t think I would be making another journal entry today, but something extraordinary just happened.

Dan and I talked.

It was around 10:45 at night, and I was walking to the kitchen to make some food, as I couldn’t sleep, when I walked past the door to his room. Usually his door is always closed and locked, but for whatever reason, today it was left open slightly. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but I’m more of a believer in fate and destiny than just writing every peculiar event like off as a coincidence. Curious, I walked towards the door and put my ear against the small open crack, careful not to put any of my weight on the door. From inside the room, I could hear soft sobbing. Intrigued, I pushed open the door, and peered through it.

Sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, whilst shaking with sobs, was Dan.

My mouth fell open at the sight of him so unraveled. Usually he was so put together and collected, like the rock that tied our group down to sanity, so seeing him like this was just odd.

Quietly, I stepped inside and precariously shut the door behind me, careful to make no noise. I crept forward towards Dan, each step harder to take than the last.

I opened my mouth, willing for words to come out--comforting words, letting him know that I was here for him, that I’d hold him until he felt better.

Instead, all that came out was, “D-Dan?”

Immediately he shot up and stared at me, my presence clearly shocking him.

“Phil?” he questioned, his voice cracking. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I-I’m sorry!” I exclaimed. “I was just walking to the kitchen when I noticed that your door was left open, then I heard crying and I got worried so I came in here to make sure you were okay and I’m sorry, really, I should’ve just stayed outside and--”

“Wow,” Dan interjected, rolling his eyes and successfully cutting me off from my embarrassing rant. His mouth quirked up at the corner in amusement and I was stunned. It was the first time I had seen him do something with his mouth that wasn’t frowning. His eyes seemed to brighten, which made my mouth drop open.

He was . . . beautiful, almost in an ironic way. Sad tears adorned his cheeks but his eyes glowed with so much warmth and yet he was still smirking mischievously. Somehow he wore each emotion better than anyone else I had ever seen.

“I just can’t figure out why you care so much,” Dan remarked, almost to himself.

“And I just can’t figure out how you don’t care,” I retorted, not even a moment later. “How does never showing any emotion and always being alone seem so appealing to you?”

Dan looked down at the bed now, shrugging, emotion gone from his face again.

After a minute or two of silence I figured he just wasn’t going to answer, but then he answered so quietly that if I hadn’t been listening closely, I would’ve missed it.

“Because then I won’t get hurt again.”

“W-what? Who hurt you?” I asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

We sat in silence for few more minutes, until I got the courage to speak again.

“Why were you crying?” I mumbled. Next to me, Dan tensed.

“I was just thinking about tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow?” Dan turned his head down to stare at me, his hazel eyes stormy.

“About all of the risks, what would happen if the spaceship exploded. What if those Russians are right and being on Mars can make people go blind and get cancer? What then?” Dan exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes at him. “You really believe the Russian scientists over ours? And besides, you’re really strong, I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

Dan’s eyes flashed with an emotion I didn’t understand until he turned to stare into my eyes. Being this close to him, I could see that his eyes weren’t just brown, but flecked with gold and green. Nervously, I swallowed. Then he suddenly broke his stare towards me and turned to look at the ground.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he finally whispered. My eyes widened in shock. Was he maybe talking about . . . me?

“Then who?” I asked softly.

Dan opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, until he thought better of it and shut his mouth.

“Nothing,” he muttered, before standing up and starting to shoo me out. “As stimulating as this conversation has been, we both need to sleep before tomorrow. So get out of my room,” he snapped, startling me.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, walking out as he was pushing me to go faster. The moment I was outside, he slammed the door shut in my face causing me to flinch.

It seemed like he had opened up to me, even if it was just for a moment.

Now that I knew for sure there was something in there, I most definitely wasn’t going to stop trying now.

“Bye, Dan! See you tomorrow!” I shouted cheerfully, before skipping back to my own room for some much needed sleep.

April 20th, 2037

Well, we did it. Yesterday we launched into space for our physically and mentally exhausting 253 day long journey to Mars. And miraculously, the spacecraft did not blow up--we’ve made it into space and are on track to Mars.

But it might as well have exploded, as Dan has started ignoring me again, despite what I thought was a breakthrough yesterday.

When we boarded the spacecraft, I ran to sit by him, and turned to tell him hello. He didn’t answer, he just stayed on his phone, typing rapidly, like his life depended on this single text message. Either way, he was completely ignoring my presence.

“Hey, Dan,” I said softly. His eyes still remained focused on the screen. Finally, I tapped his shoulder wearily.

“What?!” Dan spat at me in annoyance. He had looked up from his phone finally, but his eyes were filled with anger towards me.

“I-I just wanted to see if you were doing okay because yesterday you seemed kind of worried about the launch and I was worried about you,” I said timidly, folding my hands into my lap and biting my bottom lip.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. Worry about yourself,” Dan answered hollowly, turning to stare at the bland grey wall made of solid steel and titanium.

“But--” I protested, before Dan cut me off.

“I’m fine!” he exclaimed, turning to face the wall. Next to me Tyler whistled.

“Someone’s on their man period,” he joked, laughing.

“You don’t know what he’s going through,” I told Tyler, annoyed. Tyler’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Look, Phil, I know you’re really nice and all, but standing up for Dan? Really? He’s the biggest ass I know, and I’ve met the Kardashian family before.” Anthony and him both chuckled at that, causing me to gasp in shock.

“How could you say that? When you have absolutely no idea what he could be going through! I know you’re just trying to make a joke, but next time don’t insult other people while you do it,” I lectured.

“You don’t have to defend me!” Dan snapped angrily.

“See!” Tyler retorted.

“But I want to,” I mumbled. Dan’s eyes went wide as he turned to look at me, the hazel orbs pooled with disbelief and surprise.

“And why? I’ve never done anything for you,” Dan whispered, his voice cracking, only the second time I’d heard him speak with so much raw emotion present in his voice.

“Because I care. And I believe you will too, someday, when I’ve finally convinced you to be friends with me.”

Dan let out a dry, sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen sweetheart. I think I’d rather jump out into space and get crushed by all of the pressure than be your friend and care about you.”

Despite Dan’s biting tone and harsh insults embedded into his words, I still noticed the way his eyes flashed briefly, as if the way he had spoke to me had caused him pain.

“Astronauts, take your seats. Take off in sixty seconds. Fifty-nine . . . fifty-eight . . .” the voice droned robotically as all of us scrambled to fasten all of the buckles and bars in place.

“Well, we’re really doing this,” Anthony marveled.

Yeah,” I answered breathlessly. We were doing this. We were doing this.

And I was terrified.

“If we all die, I just want to thank you guys for at least putting in all of the effort to get here,” Connor announced, swallowing nervously.

“Me too, man,” Anthony agreed.

“Guys . . .” Tyler suddenly piped up. “I’ve never been in love before. What if I die on this mission and never get the chance to fall in love?” his voice trembled. It was odd seeing someone normally so put together and humorous just falling apart before your eyes.

At the mention of love, I found my eyes flickering towards Dan nervously, surprised to see that his eyes were already trained on me, the emotion in his eyes unreadable. I looked away, blushing.

“It’s okay,” Connor suddenly chided in. “Maybe you won’t find love in this life, but I’m sure you will one day. Everybody has that person out there for them.” A tiny smile formed on his lips and he looked up at the wall, a longing look entering his eyes.

“I think you’re lucky, Tyler,” Anthony suddenly interjected. “You’re not in love, Tyler, so it doesn’t hurt when one of you leaves.”

Connor’s head shot up and he stared at Anthony, disbelief and worry starting to cover his face.

“What are you talking about?” Connor asked sharply, his words taught and harsh.

Waving at Tyler, Anthony roared, “HE’S NOT IN LOVE! HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT WE HAD TO GO THROUGH TO GET HERE AND HOW HARD IT WAS TO MAKE THE CHOICE TO LEAVE HER FOR YEARS AND I--” his voice cracked suddenly, causing him to falter. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I think that the take off is just freaking me out.”

“It’s okay, I get it. That must be really hard, Anthony. I hadn’t even thought about it that way.”

For a moment the three of them remained silent, until Tyler unexpectedly blurted, “Is there someone waiting for you on Earth, Connor?”

Again the small but genuine smile appeared on Connor’s face. “Yeah.”

“And she’ll wait for you all seven years?” Anthony asked.

“He’s waited for me before, he’ll do it again.”

The robotic voice interrupted everybody before anyone had a chance to react.

“Ten.”

My heart rate shot up almost instantaneously.

“Nine.”

“Dan,” I whispered.

“Eight.”

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“Seven.”

“I’m scared. Like, really, really scared,” I muttered frantically, my words all over the place.

“Six.”

Maybe he wouldn’t answer me.

“Five.”

Maybe I was wrong about him.

“Four.”

Maybe he really just didn’t care.

“Three.”

“Me too,” he enunciated softly.

“Two.”

On a dumb impulse, I released my death grip from one of the bars holding me down, and slowly I inched my hand towards his, closer and closer until--

“One.”

Our hands made contact--sweet, blissful contact that made my stomach swoop so badly I forgot about the spacecraft entirely.

“Phil, I--” Dan started to say, before getting interrupted by the spaceship lurching upwards so forcefully that his head shot back. I tightened my grip around his hand, clinging onto him like he was the only thing rooting me to sanity. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact his grip on my hand seemed to increase too.

“Alphis to spacecraft, do you read? Over.”

“This is Connor. I read. Over,” Connor responded in a shaky voice.

“Everything all right so far? Nothing strange? Over.”

All of us turned to look at Connor in confusion. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Um . . . no. Should there be? Over.” Connor’s voice was filled with worry.

There was a long pause of silence. I turned to look at Dan, who was biting his lip while looking at the ground thoughtfully. His hand was still tightly holding onto mine, shaking ever so slightly, so his whole “calm aura” wasn’t fooling me.

“Spacecraft to Alphis, can you hear me? Over.”

The silence that came from the speakers was almost ominous.

“Dan?” I asked softly. “What were you going to say? Before we took off, I mean.”

“Oh!” Dan exclaimed, seeming nervous to be called out. “I-I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Of course I did,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Now stop trying to avoid the question.”

“Um . . . I just wanted to say thank you. For, you know, being there when I needed you to be. Even though you didn’t have to be there.” A blush filled Dan’s pale cheeks as he looked down at the floor, purposefully causing his fringe to fall in his face in a failed attempt to hide his growing blush. My mouth fell open at his confession, shocked that he was showing this much emotion to me in the first place, when just before the flight he was trying to ignore my existence.

“R-really?” I stuttered. “Does that mean that you--”

“Don’t push it, Sunshine,” Dan scoffed, looking back over towards me with a small smile. My heart fluttered involuntarily in my chest.

“Sunshine? Why Sunshine?” I asked, moderately annoyed.

“Because, Sunshine, you’re always happy, smiling, and there for people when they need it,” Dan told me. Now it was my turn to blush.

“Shut up,” I mumbled.

“But also when they don’t need it. I’ve gotten many a sunburn in my day,” Dan sassed, sticking his tongue out at me.

“Excuse me? Are you an adult? Or did NASA start a program to send kids into space?”

“Oh, that must be how you got accepted. I was wondering why they chose you, Sunshine.”

The ship suddenly rattled, starting to shake violently with such force for a moment I really did fear that it would explode.

Dan laced his fingers through mine, before resuming to hold onto my hand so tightly it started to go numb. I noticed that his hand was shaking slightly, his eyes fixated on our hands like he was trying to burn the memory of them entwined in his mind. With our lives possibly about ready to end, he probably was.

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered, his voice so soft that no one else but me was able to hear him.

“What happened to Sunshine?” I asked after a moment’s hesitation, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sorry, Sunshine, but I need to tell you something if we’re going to die here..” My eyes widened and I leaned over to him as much as I could with all of the restraints around me.

“W-what?” I stuttered.

“Look, I . . . I think that--”

Abruptly, the spaceship stopped shaking

“Alphis to spacecraft, Alphis to spacecraft. Can you hear me, Connor? Over.”

“Connor to Alphis. Yes, I can hear you. We’re all okay. Over.”

“Alphis to spacecraft, thank God. Our readings were telling us that the heat shield had adjusted slightly during takeoff. It must’ve been a malfunction in our sensors. Are you sure everyone’s okay? Over.” My eyes widened and I looked over at Dan, who seemed to be breathing easier now.

“I guess your fears were warranted then, Dan,” I whispered to him. He frowned thoughtfully.

“Yes, we’re all okay up here. Can we get up and move around now? Over.”

“I don’t see why not. But if for any reason the spacecraft starts having problems, rush back to these seats to strap yourselves in. Over.”

“Hey, Dan, do you want to--” I started, looking over to Dan, but he cut me off by wrenching his hand out of my grasp and moving to unstrap himself from the seat.

“No,” he concluded tersely, before standing up and waltzing out of the room towards his room, leaving me to stare after him in confusion. Why is it that just when we start to make some progress he has to walk away, leaving me disoriented and at a loss to what had just occurred? Sighing, I began to unfasten all of the straps holding me down to the seat when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, Ty--” I stopped abruptly when I looked up to see not Tyler, but Connor. “Oh . . . Connor. Sorry, I just assumed that you were Tyler--”

“It’s fine, Phil,” he reassured me. “Look, I wanted to talk to you. About Dan.”

I unbuckled the last few straps and lifted the bar from my seat and stood up, running a hand through my hair in annoyance. “If you also wanted to tell me that I’m wasting my time trying to befriend Dan and that I shouldn’t pursue him because he’s just some heartless jerk, then I really don’t want to hear it, Connor. Sorry.” Brushing off my shirt, I started to walk away in the direction of my room where I planned on sitting for the next few hours, debating what had possibly gone wrong between Dan and I and how I could fix it.

“No, Phil, I don’t think that. In fact, I think Tyler and Anthony are wrong about him and how you should treat him.”

“Really?” I asked, shocked. Well, I guess it made sense. Whenever Tyler and Anthony would insult Dan (usually in front of him too) he never did join in. He just sat quietly in the corner, often working on something on his computer, or on the phone with someone. Almost like Dan, but he gets along with everybody and actually shows emotions. “Sorry. I guess it’s not really that surprising, actually.”

“Why do you say that?” Connor questioned, his brow furrowing.

“Well, you’re really nice and I’ve never actually seen you make fun of Dan, so I guess I just jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry,” I said sheepishly.

Connor just shook his head and smiled, a look of total amazement covering his face. “You’re sorry? Really?”

“What?” I asked, confused.

He just shook his head again, laughing this time. “I just don’t see why you’re sorry, or calling me nice. Have you ever looked at yourself? You’re literally the living, breathing definition of nice. If you opened a dictionary and looked up the word ‘nice’, you would find a picture of yourself.” I rolled my eyes.

“No, I’m not Connor. If that was true, wouldn’t Dan not hate me?” My voice pitifully cracked on the last phrase and I couldn’t help but lower my head in shame. “Sorry,” I muttered as I felt tears come to my eyes. “I don’t mean to act like a child.”

“Phil, you’re not acting liking a child at all. If you weren’t acting like this, it would mean that you don’t care about Dan.” I opened my mouth to object, but Connor cut me off. “You’re really not, Phil. And believe it or not, Dan doesn’t hate you. At all. It’s just hard to see that he cares because he has so many walls up around his heart it’s near impossible to see any emotion that he feels.”

“Then how can you see it?”

“Because,” Connor started, sighing and closing his eyes as if reliving a memory. “I was once just like him. And I can see how nervous he is to be feeling anything towards you. He must’ve been hurt before, really badly. If he shows any flicker of emotion towards you, Phil, know that he’s screaming at you for help, for some way out of the fortress he’s built around himself. Somehow I think you’re the only one who can help him out now. So don’t abandon him now, even if people tell you that he’s not worth it. Because he is, even if they can’t see that now.” With that, Connor turned around and started walking to his room.

“Wait, Connor!” I exclaimed, rushing after him. “Thank you. For telling me.”

His mouth quirked up at the edges in a smirk. “Of course. Any time.” Connor strolled off to his room, opening the door before turning back to look at me again, a huge smile adorning his face. “Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

“W-wedding? What? Why would you ever suggest something like that?” I stuttered, going red.

“Talk to you tomorrow, Sunshine,” Connor told me between giggles, closing his room door behind him. Rolling my eyes, I walked away from his door and headed over to my room, my eyes lingering on Dan’s door for longer than they should’ve. I couldn’t help but wonder what he could possibly be doing in his room. Sleeping? Reading? Exercising? With him, I’m never really sure about anything. Dan wasn’t so much about being black or white, he seemed to prefer a different shade of grey every time..

But I’ll worry about him tomorrow. Today I’m going to go to my room, write all of the journal entries and documents I need to write, and then sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day, and I’m determined not to let Dan push me away then.

August 25th, 2037

Well, as it turns out, the so called “tomorrow will be a new day” was a complete lie. Dan has been busying himself with work and refusing to stop to talk to me at all these past four months. Each time I approach him, even just asking him if he wants me to grab him dinner since he’d been exercising for about eight hours straight (you think I’m joking. I’m not), he’ll just shrug me off and walk away.

I suppose Connor was right, in the sense that Dan had multiple walls that were incredibly difficult to tear down. After he let his walls down for just an instant towards me, it seemed like he got scared and was afraid of me not caring for him anymore. Instead of confronting this fear and telling me about it, he did the only thing he knows how to do, that he’s done for his whole life—shut me out.

Which hurt slightly, I suppose. But how could it not?

But what really bugged me, the thing I really wanted to know was what Dan was going to tell me when he thought we were going to die. I distinctly remember him saying my name, almost telling me something, before the radio from Earth cut him off. And then he promptly refused to tell me what he wanted to say once it was safe to get up.

It almost feels like he’s avoiding me on purpose, and nothing I do or say will make him stop. Maybe opening up to me scared him slightly, so now I have to prove to him that he won’t regret opening up to me.

Which is exactly how now, at ten o’clock months later, I was outside his door, pacing, trying to think of the best way to approach him.

Writing about it now, I can see that I was being absolutely ridiculous. If I wanted to talk to him, I should’ve just walked right up to his door and knocked on it until he came out to yell at me to shut up.

Instead, I ended up sitting on the ground next to his door, hugging my knees to my chest, hoping that he would come out eventually and be forced to interact with me. Sometime about fifteen minutes later, he opened his door, most likely to grab a late night snack from our food storage. He didn’t get very far, though, as my presence went unnoticed until he walked straight into me and tripped, slamming into the ground on top of me with a grunt.

For a moment we just laid on the ground, unmoving. It was almost as if all of the words I’d been wanting to say to him for the past months wanted to come out at once, before they all promptly decided to get lodged in my throat, causing me to stare at Dan opened mouth for the greater majority of a minute.

“Um . . . Phil?” Dan finally asked, his voice apprehensive.

“Y-yeah?” I answered after a long moment of silence.

“Why were you sitting outside my room?”

I nervously swallowed, glancing up at his confused and questioning hazel eyes for a moment before quickly diverting my eyes and focusing on the black material of his t-shirt.

“I-” I started, my voice breaking off. It felt like my throat had physically closed and I couldn’t speak or breathe. “I was waiting for you to come out,” I finally answered.

“Why didn’t you just knock?” Dan asked, looking at me like I was insane.

“Would you have answered?” I shot back, raising my eyebrows. Dan sighed in defeat, biting his lip and looking down at the ground with a sigh.

“No,” he admitted, fiddling with the thread coming off of his shirt. “Probably not.”

“Why?” I asked, my voice an octave higher than usual. Dan looked pained as he stared back towards his room, as if longing to dash back inside and not come back out again.

“Because.” Dan proclaimed flatley, emotion void from his voice, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes, refusing to accept his answer. “We both that’s not true, Dan. So you can stop lying.”

Dan glared at me, his jawline clenching. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But you need to talk about this. Look at you, you’re falling apart! Why can’t you just talk to me?” I questioned, even though I already knew the answer (courtesy of Connor).

“Phil—” Dan started, his voice strained. “I-I’m sorry, Sunshine. But I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

Dan looked down at the ground, and I could almost see the thoughts that must’ve been flying through his head. The way he was acting, anyone else would’ve just stopped, turned away, and let him be.

And I almost did.

But then I remembered Connor’s advice.

“If he shows any flicker of emotion towards you, Phil, know that he’s screaming at you for help, for some way out of the fortress he’s built around himself. Somehow I think you’re the only one who can help him out now. So don’t abandon him now, even if people tell you that he’s not worth it. Because he is, even if they can’t see that now.”

And I knew that I couldn’t listen to Dan—I had to read between the lines, in the way his eyes seemed to look pained when he told me to back off, in the slight tremble of his bottom lip, how his hand was shaking ever so slightly, and the way his whole body was tense, as if anxiously awaiting my answer, despite claiming to not care.

“Dan,” I whispered softly. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you tell me. So you can stop trying to push me away, okay?”

No one else but me could’ve noticed, because they didn’t look at Dan the way I did, look at every single detail of his actions and knew exactly how to read them—but after my reassurance, he seemed to visibly breath again, his jaw relaxing, and I could almost detect a small smile trying to form on the corner of his mouth.

“Please,” I whispered, while Dan hung on to my every word. “Stop, it’s not going to push me away.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” Dan whispered back breathlessly. “I don’t know how to let anyone in, how to make people do anything but hate me—”

“I don’t hate you.”

Dan let out a small chuckle at my antics.

“I don’t hate you, too.” A real, genuine smile formed on his lips, and I noticed for the first time he had deep, adorable dimples.

“Don’t move,” I whispered, before taking a step towards him and wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. My chin rested on his shoulder, and I could feel his warm breath on my ear. His whole body had tensed up, his arms frozen at his sides like he didn’t know how to react. Maybe he didn’t.

“Relax. It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I muttered into his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. After a few moments, I felt him place a tentative arm around my shoulders, before pulling me even closer to him.

I felt him start to shake again, but this time it wasn’t with anxiety—it was with sobs.

“It’s okay,” I whispered into his ear again. “It’s okay, Dan, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.

“I promise.”

“You do?” he asked shakily.

“Of course.” I felt Dan pull me in even closer, until I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began—we were just us.

Dan, I thought. That was all I could think, the sole thought of him making my heart race and causing my breathing to quicken.

“Will you be my friend?” I asked after a long period of silence of us just standing together, our arms wrapped around each other tightly, refusing to let go.

Dan sighed, disentangling his arms from around me and taking a step back. “I’d be a terrible friend, Phil. You know that.”

I scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder. “What are you talking about? You’d be a great friend, Dan. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’ve never even had a friend before,” Dan admitted, biting his lip. I could see the pain swimming in his eyes—or were those tears? “I’ll just end up hurting you or something. I have no idea how to be a friend or care for people or make them happy.”

“Then I’ll teach you,” I whispered.

“Phil,” Dan whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ve managed to make you stay away from me for so long, why are you bothering me now?”

“I was never away from you,” I answered. “You just weren’t looking, so you didn’t see me.” Dan’s lip started trembling and his eyes seemed to well up with tears.

“I-I was looking, what makes you say I wasn’t looking?” Dan stuttered, his hands starting to shake as well. Tentatively, I reached out and grabbed his hands.

“But were you really seeing?” I asked softly. For a long moment Dan just stared at me in silence, his eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. Dan opened his mouth as if to say something, his eyes shining warmly towards me for once, before he slammed his mouth shut again and started to stare at the ground again.

“Fine,” he muttered in defeat.

“What?” I asked, confused. He let out a small chuckle, his mouth quirking up at the corner as he looked at me, his eyes fond.

“Fine, I’ll be your friend,” he grumbled, clearly trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Wait, really?” I gasped, my mouth falling open in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious,” Dan scoffed.

“You won’t regret it, I promise!” I exclaimed, bounding forward and for the second time, wrapping my arms around Dan. He clearly wasn’t expecting it, as he fell backwards and nearly fell onto the ground for the second time in our exchange. Quickly, I grabbed him by the waist and managed to keep him upright. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Dan mumbled, his face bright red. My face started to flush as well when I realized that his shirt had moved up slightly, so I was now pressing my hands against his bare hips. Once I made sure he was able to stand on his own, I wrenched my hands off of him and took a step back.

“S-sorry,” I stuttered, afraid that I had somehow now passed some unsaid boundary he had and that he’d take back the whole being my friend thing that he had begrudgingly agreed to.

“It’s okay,” Dan spluttered, his face still slightly red.

“So, what were you up to before we ran into each other?” I asked brightly, trying to change the subject.

“You mean before I ran into you sitting outside my door, waiting for me to come out?”

“Shut up!” I laughed, playfully punching his arm.

“You know, I have to say, your choice of pastime sounds quite fun. I also enjoy sitting outside my friends’ doors awaiting for them to exit too,” Dan teased, giggling. The noise surprised me at first, as it was the first time I really ever heard him giggle with no self-constraint, like he didn’t care about trying to hide how he truly felt around me anymore.

“So are you implying that you sit outside my door and wait for me to come out, seeing as you just told me that I am your first friend?” I shot back, smirking.

“Excuse me!?” Dan exclaimed. “Are you implying that I stalk you? Because last time I checked, this whole friendship was your idea and you wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to be your friend.”

“Oh, you thought I was going to start leaving you alone now? That’s funny, I was planning on sleeping over in your room every night now that we’re friends.” Dan’s eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn a slight hue of red.

“W-what?” he stuttered.

“I was joking, Dan, calm down,” I laughed. “No but seriously, what were you doing before you ran into me?”

“I was just going to go get some dinner before going to bed, I was kind of hungry after skipping breakfast and lunch—”

“Are you serious? You skipped breakfast and lunch after all of that exercise? Are you trying to get sick, Dan?” Dan seemed to shrink under my harsh tone. It was weird how now that he wasn’t guarding his emotions so much around me, I could actually see how much my words could affect him.

“I’ll be fine, I’m always fine.” At this statement, I just rolled my eyes, knowing how incorrect it was.

“Clearly, you’re not fine. Come on, I’m taking you to get food. Right now.” Without waiting for an answer from Dan, I grabbed his arm and started dragging him towards the kitchen in the center of the spacecraft.

“Phil, I’m fine, calm down, it’s not like I’m going to die or anything—”

“Too bad,” I retorted. After walking in silence for a peaceful minute, my arm still linked through his. “What do you want to eat?” I finally asked.

“Well, it’s not like there’s many options, is there? We’re supposed to be eating those freeze-dried packets each day—”

“Actually, Dan, we’re supposed to be eating three of those freeze-dried packets each day to keep up our nutrition intake so our muscles don’t deteriorate from the unusual gravity and pressure. However, since you have proved to be incompetent at counting to three each day, I believe I will be taking over for you in the food department,” I sassed, a small grin appearing on my face when I saw the look of bewilderment (and a tad bit of amusement as well) appear in his eyes.

“Excuse me? Did you just say I can’t count to three? I’ll have you know that I used to watch the Count on Sesame Street every day when I was kid—well, that and Winnie the Pooh—but I was incredibly proficient in maths while in school, you idiot,” Dan said in his rush to defend himself. I let out a small chuckle at his idea of an insult. Clearly, insults were another thing that his skills somewhat lack in, most likely from his limited experience with people.

“Mm, really? Just sounds like a lot of excuses, if you ask me.”

“I was four grades ahead in math at my school, Phil, more than you could say about your mathematical achievements, I’m sure!” Dan exclaimed, trying (but failing) to unlink our arms. For someone so strong he probably could’ve easily just wrenched my arm out of its socket, but something told me that he didn’t really want to break the link between our arms just yet.

“And I was valedictorian, your point?” I shot back, a few stray chuckles escaping as I struggled to hold them in and be somewhat serious. Dan just rolled his eyes.

“And here I was thinking that you had to be a well-rounded student to win valedictorian. I guess I was wrong.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed, smacking his chest playfully. “That’s offensive, I only ever had one A minus and that was in P.E. in the sixth grade!”

“Of course it was P.E. that dealt you in, you never really struck me as the athletic type,” Dan remarked, almost to himself. He wasn’t wrong, though, in school sports really just weren’t my thing. This probably had to do with the people playing the sports rather than the sports themselves, but I digress.

“Yeah whatever, Mr. Athletic and Strong and . . . Jock . . . Guy . . .” I trailed off, causing Dan to launch into a fit of giggles.

“Just call me Mr. Athletic and Strong and Jock Guy from now on, then. Forget Sunshine, that’s by far the best nickname we’ve came up with,” Dan said, a real genuine smile on his lips that I found my gaze focused on. How did one simple motion that I’d seen countless amounts of strangers do in my life seem so special on him? Maybe it was just because of the way his eyes lit up as well, and how his whole demeanor just seemed happier when he did actually smile—but either way, it was so much more entrancing than anyone else’s smile that I’d seen.

“Whatever,” I scoffed, suddenly realizing that I’d spaced out and left him without a response for too long. I unlinked our arms and crossed mine over my chest. Dan remained silent at that, and just as we reached the door to the kitchen he reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me from walking inside.

“Phil,” he started, before freezing with his hand still gripping my arm. Nervously, I glanced down at his hand that was clamped down on my forearm before flicking my gaze back up to his nervous gaze.

“Yeah?” I asked softly.

“I-I’m sorry if that was rude or something, I just . . .” he trailed off, releasing his grip on my arm and staring at the ground.

“Yeah?” I pried, not letting him off the hook that easily.

“I, uh, actually used to be really unathletic and bad at sports when I was in high school,” Dan blurted, not pausing to breathe before continuing, “and I was, um, bullied for it a lot. You know, being the emo kid that sucked at every sport that we tried to do, even worse than the girls in the class was awful. So, um, I decided that I didn’t want that in my life, so I started working out a lot, until I’d gotten to the point where I am today. I don’t really know what I thought I had to prove to any them, they were all just a bunch of assholes, anyways,” Dan said, chuckling nervously while running a hand through his hair. “So, um, I wasn’t always Mr. Athletic and Strong and Jock Guy.”

For a moment I just stood in silence, staring at Dan in wonder. Connor definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would be worth it when I managed to break down some of Dan’s walls and see who he really was. Seeing this other side of him, the side that he hid away from everybody else except for himself was just . . . well, amazing. The fact that he trusted me, me out of anybody that he could possibly confide in as well, sent a rush of euphoria through me. Or was that just butterflies?

“But you,” Dan quickly interjected into the piercing silence that had fell between us, “you’ve always been “Sunshine”, it seems. And I don’t think that’ll ever change,” he added fondly, making my heart swell. I looked up at him, a lopsided smile on my face.

“No,” I told him, “I don’t think it ever will. Not towards you, anyways.” Without waiting for a response, I reached forward and linked our arms together again, and dragged him into the kitchen.

But I didn’t miss the prominent tomato red blush that appeared on his face.

“Hi Connor, Tyler,” I exclaimed as we walked into the kitchen. I felt Dan tense next to me. “Hey,” I whispered to him. “If you can’t handle talking to Tyler right now, I’ll make you your food and bring it to your room, if you’d like.”

A small smile appeared on Dan’s mouth, but what was most noticeable was the way his eyes lit up. They were filled with total unadulterated fondness and admiration towards me. He just shook his head slightly, all of his features lit up as a complete smile took over his face.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked rhetorically, almost to himself.

“I’ll be here all night,” I joked, before taking on a more serious tone. “Or forever, if you’d prefer?”

The tiny uplift of Dan’s lip was back, a smile drastically different from his huge smile just a few moments ago, but somehow this one seemed more real, seemed to carry much more emotion than the previous one. “I suppose I could settle for forever.”

I froze, caught in the moment staring up at his glowing hazel (but not just hazel, there was also a mix of gold, and occasional specks of green and blue sprinkled throughout) eyes, the eyes that had previously been so cold towards me. But now they were lit up, brighter and more orphic than any of the stars I could see if I just took a step to the left and looked out the window. They were somehow more complex than anything I’d ever seen, and since I worked in the astronomic field, that’s saying quite a lot. I suppose when you find someone who’s gaze towards you somehow trumps that of any other alluring star or captivating planet, you’ve found the one.

Wait, what?

“Forever sounds all right,” I finally managed to choke out after leaving him without an answer for so long.

“Hey guys, fancy seeing you two here!” Tyler suddenly exclaimed, walking by and watching us curiously. “What brings you two to this part of the ship? Together? At this time?” Tyler finished his dramatic proclamation with a wink towards us.

“It’s literally only eleven o’clock, Tyler, it’s not like we’re having a three in the morning binge eating session,” I quipped, annoyance dripping off of my words from being interrupted.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you ended up here at obscene hours of the night eating obscene amounts of food.” My jaw dropped, and I just gaped at him in disbelief.

“We agreed to keep that between us!” I hissed angrily. I swear if he tells Dan—

“Yeah, well, thanks to that sarcastic comment, I don’t really feel the obligation to keep that secret right now.”

“Shut up!” I whisper yelled, trying not to call that much attention to how much I was panicking. “Please shut—”

“So, Dan, I came in here one night about two weeks ago to grab some food at like three in the morning, as one does—”

“Tyler!” I exclaimed, this time not disguising the look of panic on my face.

“Hey, Tyler, leave him alone. I doubt Dan really even wants to hear your embarrassing story of Phil,” Connor interjected swiftly, from where he stood on the other side of the room sipping a coffee. He looked pretty indifferent towards the whole situation with his casual slouched posture and expressionless face as he took another sip of his coffee. But I didn’t miss his sly smile and coy wink at me after both Tyler and Dan stopped looking at me, which caused me to flush involuntarily.

For the first time in the past few minutes, I chanced a gaze up at Dan (okay, not really up, he’s literally only like a centimeter taller than me. I was just slouching at the time and he was standing up straight) and noticed with a jolt that his eyes were trained on me, curious filling the hazel pools. A small smile appeared on his lips when he noticed my returned gaze, before he looked back over at Tyler, the small smile turning into a mischievous smirk.

“Actually, Connor, I’d love to hear this ‘story’ Tyler knows.” My mouth dropped open, and Tyler chortled in response. Over by the wall, Connor covered the growing smile on his face with his hand, resulting in a glare from me. But right next to me, Dan was practically shaking as he chuckled, seeing my flustered reaction.

“Shut up,” I grumbled, shoving him slightly, just resulting in him not even moving an inch. He started laughing harder, leaning on me for support as he gasped for breath. Connor’s and Tyler’s eyes were fixed on the two of us, most likely scrutinizing us for being so close to each other, especially when Dan’s personality is so reserved.

“Um, so, anyways, I came to the kitchen a couple of weeks ago to grab some food, at three am, as one does, and Phil was just—get this—sitting down, eating basically all of our food. I’m pretty sure that we won’t have have enough food to last these last two months now.” Tyler was shaking with laughter by the end of his story, the rest of us just staring at him, eyebrows raised.

Dan turned to me, his eyes an unreadable emotion as he pulled me aside, placing a tentative hand on my shoulder.

“W-what?” I stuttered, confused, the contact between us causing me to be even more flustered. Sure, he’d agreed to being my friend, which involves some physical contact, but somehow each time it still caught me completely off guard and caused me to lose my breath and act completely irrationally.

“You didn’t tell me you were binge eating,” Dan finally got out, his demeanor swiftly changing to one of concern and worry.

“We weren’t really talking,” I mumbled, biting my lip and looking at the ground, the wall, my shoes—anywhere that wasn’t Dan, really.

“That doesn’t mean that you couldn’t have come and talked to me!” Dan exclaimed, looking offended.

“Well, you didn’t really come across as the person to talk to about my problems at the time, Dan.” I started biting my lip nervously again, almost afraid of how he would act. This was a complete three-sixty from how he was acting just an hour ago, I wasn’t even sure how to act around him anymore. Not that I ever knew how to act around him in the first place.

“But why?” Dan finally got out. “I don’t understand.”

“It was just once!” I defended. “And it won’t happen again!” Dan just glared at me in response.

“Really? How do you know that it’s not going to happen again?” Dan blurted, before he got a lot quieter and whispered, “What if you get hurt? Eating too much at one time can really damage your health, and it’s not like I can just take you to a hospital if something bad happens? What if you start doing it regularly and there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to stop you because—”

“Dan,” I stated calmly, gently placing a finger over his lips to silence him. His eyes widened considerably and a faint blush started to appear faintly on his cheeks. “It won’t happen again. I have you now.” It seemed like for a second, Dan was just going to smile and agree, then we’d hug it out and I’d grab him his food like we’d originally intended and then we’d go back to his room and talk for a few more hours before we went to sleep. Instead, the grin faltered on his face before it could fully appear.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” he questioned, his voice piercing cold—but not towards me. Somehow I knew the icy tone was directed at himself.

“No!” I protested without thinking. I mean, he wasn’t wrong, I guess, when I was binge eating that night it was because of him. But now he was different, he seemed less guarded about his emotions, he’d finally decided to trust me. That wasn’t something that I wanted to lose now, after coming so far and waiting for so long to finally make any progress.

“No really Phil, was it because of me?” Dan’s piercing glare bore into me, and instead of just outright denying it again (like I had originally planned), I found that the words just got lodged in my throat. “Phil?” Dan pushed, but in a softer tone now. He almost sounded strained, like he knew the truth would hurt him.

“W-well, yeah, I mean I guess it was because of you. But it was just a one time thing, Dan. And now I have you, so now that won’t even be a problem anymore,” I found my voice getting quieter and quieter as I went on with the sentence, a light blush dusting my cheeks. How many times have I blushed today? It has to be at least 394 times.

“If for whatever reason, Phil, you want to do that again, come and talk to me about it. Okay? I’ll help you through it.” Dan’s voice was soft and gentle, fondness slowly seeping into his phrase even though it was quite obvious he had just originally intended for the phrase to be serious and firm.

“O-okay,” I stuttered. Dan cocked his head at me in confusion.

“Are you alright? Normally you don’t stutter, usually it’s me messing up my words.” After Dan’s bash towards himself I found myself chuckling quietly to myself.

“Dan, you’re the most articulate and intelligent sounding person I know. And of course I was going to stutter, Dan, I’m still not used to this whole you actually caring about me thing.” I watched Dan take all of this in, from the furrow of his brow to the slight downward curve of his mouth as he took it all in.

“I’ve always cared about you,” he finally managed, after several attempts at trying to speak.

“Really? It was kind of hard to tell,” I mumbled, remembering the cold way he’d been treating me these past few months, and the first time we’d met when he first dismissed my offer of friendship.

“Maybe you were looking, but you weren’t really seeing,” Dan remarked inquisitively. A moment later a lightbulb went off in my head as I recognized that phrase as my own from earlier.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, lightly slapping his shoulder “That’s rude. In order to use my words you have to cite your sources, and I don’t see any bibliography so . . .” Dan snickered in response as he walked over to the counter and starting to add hot water to his packet of freeze-dried food.

“Sorry,” Dan apologized (though he didn’t really sound sorry at all). “I guess I’m just one of those people who copies and pastes everything from online because they’re too afraid to use their own words.”

“Sounds pretty accurate,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Excuse me?” Dan yelled, snapping his fingers at me, before holding up a finger and downing his entire freeze-dried food pouch.

“That was definitely me in grade school,” Tyler remarked from the other side of the room. I jumped slightly as I looked back over there and noticed him and Connor both still standing there. Somewhere in my conversation with Dan I seemed to have forgotten all about their existence.

“Nice to see that you have noticed our presence finally,” Tyler said, somewhat dryly.

“Sorry,” Dan and I apologized at the same time, before turning to look at each other and start giggling.

“By all means, carry on, I’m actually quite entertained,” Connor suddenly piped up.

“Shut up,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“Well, as cute as you two are together, I’m going to bed. I have to be up at ten in the morning to run through all of the systems to ensure that they’re all functioning properly with NASA scientists,” Tyler announced as he began waltzing out of the room.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘as cute as we are together?’” I questioned, just before Tyler could duck out of the room.

“Oh, you guys are in the stage of denial right now. I see.” My eyes widened at Tyler’s words, in both confusion and slight distress, as I’m sure none of what he was accusing Dan and I of was even remotely true. “Denial is the first stage of love, you know!”

And on that note, Tyler just waltzed out of the room, Connor following close behind, shooting me an encouraging smile.

“I have to be up at six to talk to several reporters on Earth. Tyler should stop complaining,” Connor told us, before walking out of the door, leaving the two of us alone.

“I’m kind of tired too!” Dan suddenly exclaimed. “You know, too much exercise, not enough food, that kind of thing.”

“Dan,” I said sharply, causing him to flinch.

“Y-yeah?” he stammered. His hazel eyes widened and I could see the panic in them.

“Don’t shut me out again, okay? Remember I’m here for you, always.” At the end of my proclamation I shot him a small timid smile, unsure of how he was going to react. He still seemed a bit on the fence about feeling and being open about said feelings, so I really had no clue how he was going to react to me expressing my feelings.

“I won’t,” Dan promised me, hesitating a moment before reaching up and clasping my shoulder. “I don’t know if I even can anymore,” he added as an after thought, his voice much smaller. His confession made the side of my mouth quirk up in a lopsided smile as I just looked at him fondly.

“I’m glad,” I whispered. “I really am.” Dan’s eyes seemed to light up at this, like he had been half-expecting me to react badly to his confession (I have no idea why he would’ve thought that, considering every time he showed me genuine emotion I felt like bursting with joy). Nervously, I reached up and brushed his fringe to the side, revealing his forehead. Without hesitation, I leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, though my lips lingered for a moment longer than they probably should have for the kiss to be considered platonic.

The moment I leaned away from Dan, he seemed to jump twenty feet away as he rushed towards the door.

“Good night!” he yelled, before slamming the door that separated the hallway from the kitchen shut. I let out a small chuckle at his antics, knowing that he’d rushed to leave because he hadn’t wanted me to see his reaction. Unfortunately for him, however, it was pretty hard to miss the way his entire face flushed and turned such a dark shade of red he could’ve blended in with the NASA logo on the wall behind him.

A huge grin broke out on my face as I found myself reliving Dan’s reaction over and over again. I brought my hand up to my face in an attempt to stifle the grin slightly, stop it from completely overtaking my face, but it was already a lost cause. With a slight skip in my step, I too walked out of the kitchen, heading towards my room to get some much needed sleep.

September 2nd, 2037

I woke up to incessant knocking on my door, banging against it in no particular pattern.

“Phil!” they yelled, before continuing to bang against my door.

“What?” I grumbled in annoyance, pulling the blanket up over my head, determined to ignore whoever had decided to wake me up this early after my late night with Dan last night.. We’d stayed up until when normally the rays of the sun would start to peek out from over the horizon. However, since we’re on a spacecraft, we don’t really have a sunrise or sunset like on Earth. I remember confessing to Dan somewhere around four in the morning that I missed seeing the sun on Earth, seeing the sunrises and sunsets every day.

Dan just laughed in response to that, leaning back against the pillows of my bed, putting his hands behind his head.

“Really?” he asked, still chuckling quietly to himself.

“Yeah,” I answered, my brow furrowing as I walked over and sat next to him, my gaze locked on him until he looked over at me. “What, do you not miss it?”

“No,” Dan responded without a moment of hesitation. “How could I when I have you? You’re the literal human embodiment of a star, and more beautiful if you ask me.” My breath caught in my throat at that, and I sat with my mouth gaping at him. Dan hadn’t shied away though, in fact he seemed to grow more confident under my stare. His mouth was lifted up at the corners in a small grin, as his tired eyes stared back at me, full of warmth. On his lap, he’d laced his hands together over his crossed legs, and as always he was wearing all black—except for his socks, which were a bright blue that he’d had to borrow from me when he’d found a hole in his black ones. His hair was messy and curly atop his head, as he hadn’t taken the time to straighten the long brown locks that morning.

“I know that you don’t believe me when I say that, Phil, because for whatever reason you can’t accept the fact that you are an amazing person—but you are, Phil, you really are.”

“O-oh,” I had stuttered in response, at a complete loss for words. That had seemed to happen more and more lately, Dan telling me something, actually expressing his emotions more and more as he grew comfortable with me that ended up rendering me speechless and unable to respond. He didn’t even realize the effect his words had on me when he said them, he didn’t even notice the way my whole face would light up with a huge smile, and how a light blush would coat my cheeks as my heart would skip a beat.

And then there was the way he’d just dismiss my words when I tried to tell him the same, explain to him that he was just as extraordinary as he claimed I was, even more so in fact. I still wasn’t quite sure why he seemed to harbor so much hatred toward himself, but I was determined to find out, just as I was determined to find out everything about him, no matter how trivial it was.

“PHIL!” the person screamed outside my door, startling me out of my flashback. Groaning, I sat up and got out of bed and stumbled over to the door, only tripping and falling over once (which was quite impressive, in my opinion).

“What!?” I spat in annoyance as soon as I flung open the door. Standing in my doorway with a smug grin on his face was not Dan, like I’d originally been hoping for, but instead was Tyler.

“Phil!” he exclaimed. Without waiting for a response he just waltzed into my room, turning to look at me with a confused look. “Did you forget what today was?”

“Um . . .” I mumbled, my mind reeling as I tried to remember what he was talking about. “What?” Tyler rolled his eyes in response, but he didn’t really seem all that upset. In fact, he seemed like he expected it.

“Well, I guess you have been distracted recently by Dan.” At that I opened my mouth to protest, but Tyler raised an eyebrow, causing me to fall silent.

“Yeah, whatever,” I scoffed, but I found the scowl on my face turn into a grin that took over my entire face as my thoughts went back to that of Dan. How could they not, with someone as endlessly fascinating as Dan? Even if I sat and just thought about Dan for days straight, I still wouldn’t be able to fully grasp why everything he did was so captivating to me. Just arguing with Dan about the silliest of things is a past time that I’ve found myself enjoying more than anything I used to do with friends back on Earth. Somehow it seems that Dan had, without even trying, managed to steal the spot of the most important person in my life. It’s not like he even tried to become that person, that he made a conscientious effort to become such a significant person in my life. Maybe he’s had that spot secured since the first moment we really talked to each other, in his bedroom on our last day on Earth.

We’ve made so much progress since then, became so much closer. Not only had he become the most important figure in my life, but I liked to think that I became that person in his life, too.

“Phil?” Tyler demanded, waving an insistent hand in my face, yanking me out of my thoughts for the second time.

“Sorry, what? I was spacing out,” I explained, feeling a slight flush take over my face and neck as I realized I had literally just spaced out in the middle of a conversation thinking about Dan.

“Today’s our board game night, remember? NASA wants footage of us doing normal things to show people that spaceflight has progressed and is now actually quite comfortable with the artificial gravity system we’ve created and such,” Tyler recited, a small grin forming on his face. “Do you think Dan will join us? We told NASA officers that he wouldn’t a month ago, but if you think he would—”

“Yeah, I’ll go ask him!” I interjected excitedly, the prospect of seeing Dan again causing a huge smile to break out on my face.

“Do you think he’ll say yes?” Tyler inquired, a slight frown appearing on his face.

“I’m sure if I ask him he will,” I answered, turning to my closet and starting to pull out clothes to wear.

“Really?” Tyler’s voice wasn’t really filled with surprise at my confident statement, he seemed to have adopted more of a curious tone.

“Yeah, really.” Wordlessly I turned around and started to peel off my shirt and pull on another, this one bright blue with the NASA logo imprinted on the front, along with a pair of black skinny jeans.

“You guys seem to be getting pretty close,” Tyler stated, the same curious tone underlining his words. I turned to face him with a questioning glint in my eyes.

“Very close!” I heard Connor yell from across the hallway.

“Like, really close!” I heard a third voice add, most likely Anthony.

“Shut up,” I grumbled in annoyance, stalking over to my mirror where I tried to style my hair into its usual fringe.

“So what was he doing in your room until three in the morning last night?” a voice asked me, causing me to jump in fright and drop my comb. Huffing, I turned around to see a smirking Connor leaning in doorframe, Anthony right behind him with a matching expression.

“Talking,” I responded laconically, finally deeming my hair acceptable before grabbing a sweater off my bed and shrugging it on. “And it was until four in the morning, not three.”

“Really? Just talking?” Anthony pried. I raised my eyebrows at the three of them, wondering why they were all ganging up at me at the same time.

“. . . yeah, is that a problem?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“No, of course not,” Tyler stated, taking a seat on my bed. “We’re all just curious as to when you guys are going to fuck.”

“W-what!?” I screeched, turning a dark shade of red I didn’t even know was possible. “W-why would you say that?”

“Oh, he’s still in the stage of denial,” Connor told the rest of the group, me still in a state of shock and mortification. “Which is, as you all know, is the first step in falling in love.”

“E-excuse me?” I practically screamed.

“Phil, honey,” Tyler enunciated, walking up to me and grabbing my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him, “it’s time for you to realize your feelings and swan dive into the gay.” I just stood dumbstruck, looking up at Tyler in complete and utter confusion.

“What feelings?” I managed to get out a moment later. Around me, the three boys all just burst out into laughter. Connor was leaning against the wall, shaking, as Anthony clutched to him, his whole body shaking as he laughed. And in front of me, Tyler had been reduced to the floor, where he laid in hysterics.

“W-what feelings!” Tyler echoed, before launching into another fit of hysterics. From across the room, Connor locked eyes with me, and gestured to the figure that had just appeared in the doorway. My attention immediately was torn from Connor, Anthony and Tyler and was instead redirected towards Dan. He still looked half-asleep, so I quickly came to the conclusion that the three of them must’ve woken him up.

“Phil? What’s going on?” he asked groggily, letting out a huge yawn. I felt my previous frown twitch up and turn into a grin as I took in his adorable bedridden appearance.

“Nothing, they’re just being stupid. I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” I asked, concern dripping from my voice as I walked over to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace, unable to resist when he looked so adorable. Dan initially tensed the moment my arms wrapped around him, but he eventually relaxed into the embrace and lifted his arms up and pulled me closer to him. The corner of my mouth quirked up slightly at that, a small smile that somehow seemed to encompass more emotion than the previous smile that had lit up my entire face. This one seemed smaller, more personal and intimate almost, one meant only for Dan, not one that I just offered up to anybody like my other smile.

“Those feelings,” Connor piped up suddenly, causing me to freeze.

Wait . . . what?

“What?” Dan asked, pulling away from me reluctantly, and shooting Connor a curious stare.

“Nothing,” Connor quickly stated. “I was just explaining something we were talking about with Phil.”

I just stood there, my mouth gaping at Connor in disbelief. Was he implying—were all of them implying that I . . . that I liked Dan? That I had feelings towards him that were even more complex and serious and . . . romantic than I had previously thought?

No, that’s just completely ridiculous. Dan and I are best friends, that’s all. Of course they might interpret it differently, because we were much closer than other friends, but that’s because we just clicked in a way that I never thought I would with someone. Sure, I felt very strongly about Dan and his happiness and felt overjoyed every time we would talk, and let’s not even mention the swooping feeling that I feel whenever we touch, but that doesn’t mean that I love him or anything. Seriously, is the oxygen machine broken or something, because absolutely nothing they’re saying makes any sense at all, whatsoever.

“What do you think, Phil?” Dan suddenly asked me, breaking my train of thought instantly. I looked up at him in confusion, but found myself just getting lost in his eyes rather than giving a coherent response. Seriously, how many colors are his eyes? Surely no one else has eyes this complex, otherwise I wouldn’t find myself staring at them so often—

“Phil?” Dan repeated, sounding worried.

“S-sorry, what?” I stuttered.

“Anthony was just explaining the whole board game thing to me, I was thinking maybe we could go start that now?” Dan told me, looking at me curiously. “Are you sure you’re okay? If you don’t feel well we can postpone it for another day, I’m sure NASA wouldn’t mind.”

“N-no, it’s fine, I’m fine,” I spluttered, feeling incredibly nervous to have Dan’s eyes on me all of a sudden.

“Really? You seem kind of off,” Dan observed, reaching up and placing a hand on my forehead, which almost caused my legs to give out underneath me. “You feel kind of hot.”

“No, really, I’m fine,” I squeaked, feeling the other three’s gazes all locked on me with matching smirks.

“Okay . . .” Dan agreed tentatively.

“Come on guys!” Anthony told all of us, walking out of my room, Connor and Tyler both following him. Tyler caught my eye as he passed and winked at me, causing my eyes to widen in shock. They were serious about this whole me liking Dan thing, weren’t they? I still have absolutely no idea why, they’re being completely foolish and jumping to incorrect conclusions—

“Let’s go then, I haven’t played Monopoly since I was six!” Dan proclaimed with excitement, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and dragging me along. Somehow the embrace was the exact thing to calm me down and return me to feeling somewhat sane as we launched into one of rounds of carefree banter.

“You could play Monopoly when you were six?” I questioned, remembering how I couldn’t play Monopoly with my family until I was at least eight and understood the math and logistics of the game.

“What, you couldn’t?” he teased, smirking at me.

“Right, I forgot you are also Mr. Math Prodigy, of course you learned how to play Monopoly when you were six,” I retorted with an eye roll.

“Actually, I learned to play it with my parents when I was four, but if it makes you feel better, sure, I learned it when I was six.”

“Ass,” I muttered, shoving him gently.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you, I was too busy reciting the first thousand digits of pi in my head,” Dan remarked sassily.

“You’re right, you definitely aren’t an ass, that’s insulting to all of the donkeys out there.”

Dan’s mouth dropped open, and he stopped walking to dramatically throw a hand across his chest. “Excuse me bit—”

“Language!” Anthony hissed, slapping a hand over Dan’s mouth. “We’re supposed to make this family friendly, with no cursing!”

“Oh, I guess you can’t be here at all then, Dan, your all black outfit isn’t exactly ‘family friendly’.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault the NASA shirts they gave me were all black!” Dan said, playfully smacking my arm.

“Didn’t you specifically ask NASA to only give you black clothing?” I asked, trying to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape from my mouth and failing.

“No,” Dan lied, a smile breaking out on his face as he tried to deny the lie. “Okay, maybe I did.”

“And this is Dan and Phil, the two best friends of the mission,” I heard Connor announce, causing both Dan and I to stop talking and look over to him, where he pointed the camera towards the two of us.

“Hi,” I said brightly, waving at the camera happily. Dan’s face reverted back to being emotionless, and he gave a small half wave to the camera. Rolling my eyes, I bumped into his side, offering a small reassuring smile to ease his nerves that had inevitably started once he noticed the camera in the room. He just huffed at my antics before sticking out his tongue at me, a smile reappearing on his face.

“As you can see, when they’re in each other’s presence, they tend to ignore the rest of the world,” Connor explained, causing Dan and I to glance at each other and turn slightly red.

“Guilty as charged,” I chuckled nervously, holding up my hands in the air. Tyler raised an eyebrow at me, before winking at me. I just flushed more in response, deciding to just ignore the three of them and just stay next to Dan and help calm his nerves towards the situation. Wordlessly, Dan grabbed my hand and led me over to the Monopoly board, and dragged two chairs right next to each other, and fell into one, pulling out the other chair and gesturing for me to sit down. I giggled at his stupid antics, sitting down in the chair. He instantly leaned over to me, pressing the side of his body against mine and resting his head on my shoulder. Before I could stop myself, I let out a noise of shock that I quickly stifled afterwards. Biting my lip, I just decided to pretend like there was no cameras and no one watching, so I just moved my head to rest on top of his. Dan let out a small noise of content, leaning into me further.

“Sorry, I’m still kind of tired from our late night last night,” he whispered, clearly intending the words to only be heard by me.

“It’s fine, I am too. I should’ve made us go to bed sooner, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry for that, Phil, it was one of the best nights of my life.” My eyes widened and I found myself gasping before I could stop myself.

“Oh shut up, I’m sure you’ve had tons of better nights,” I muttered. Next to me, I felt Dan stiffen.

“Not for a long time,” he answered after a minute of silence between us. Concern flooding every inch of my body, I tentatively reached over to his hand and laced our fingers together, watching his tan, strong fingers weave through my thin and pale ones. I smiled lazily at the sight of our clasped hands and gently squeezed his hand to offer some form of comfort.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed, hoping he would hear my almost incoherent apology.

“Why are you sorry?” Dan questioned, a small chuckle running through his body.

“That I didn’t find you sooner,” I answered after a moment’s hesitation. At that, Dan pulled away from me and shot me a curious look, that almost had a small undertone of panic as I watched his bottom lip tremble slightly.

“D-do you k-know?” he stuttered in confusion, his voice accusing and hurt. “Is that you’re being so n-nice to me? H-how—”

“No!” I interrupted, my mouth falling open at his accusatory words. “What are you talking about? What do I not know? Why would that change how I act to you—”

“O-oh,” Dan answered, his voice small. “I’m sorry, I thought you were just another one of those people who pitied me and didn’t actually care about me.” Dan’s voice was small and frail, cracking at some points; the harsh words directed towards himself, I could tell, and nothing hurt more than that. I would go step on the bloody sun if it meant Dan would never speak of himself like that again.

“Dan,” I said softly, wrapping an arm around him and bringing him closer to me. He slowly moved his head back to where it had been resting before on my shoulder, and I pressed a small kiss to the top of his head. “Dan, no matter what you’ve been through or what crazy backstory you have, you’re still you, and I still care about you so, so much. What you’re thinking of doesn’t matter, Dan, you’re my best friend, I still love you, nothing could ever change that.” It wasn’t until I was done speaking that I suddenly realized the weight of my words and froze.

Were Connor and Tyler and Anthony . . . actually right? I mean, yes, I love Dan. There’s no way I can deny that, but . . . how do I love him?

Damn it, this was probably exactly what they wanted, to start this seed of doubt in my mind until I couldn’t ignore it and it started to overrun my thoughts and mind until it couldn’t be ignored anymore. Had these feelings always been there and my oblivious self just didn’t even realize?

And what about Dan? How did he feel? I’m sure he just views me as his best friend, he doesn’t have three annoying friends that put thoughts in your head that you’d rather not think about. Or maybe he does feel that way about me, it’s not like he ever pulled away from any of my advances, and he certainly hadn’t ran away just now when I confessed that I loved him, in at least some capacity.

Seriously, what was their problem? Why did they think it was even remotely a good idea to get these thoughts going in my head?

“I . . .” Dan started, his voice shaking. “I . . . I think I love you too, Phil.”

My heart melted. Nothing seemed coherent anymore, my thoughts were somewhere up in cloud nine. The rest of the room seemed to melt away, the cameras, the other people, all there was was Dan, the boy in my arms who had just professed that he loved me as well, the boy who I had worked so hard to befriend, the boy who was too smart, a bit sassy, and sometimes a bit dark with his jokes and his humor. It was Dan, who has the best smile that you only get to see on the rare occasion he’s completely happy and doesn’t care who sees—this was one of those rare occasions.

Dan looked up at me shyly, his grin splayed across his face, causing every one of his features to simultaneously light up. His eyes sparkled with raw emotion, fondness that was directed at me, and me alone.

Unable to hold it back anymore, I wrapped my other arm around him and pulled him to my chest, resting my chin on his head, which was buried my shoulder. Wordlessly, he lifted up his arms and wrapped them around my torso, holding me to him as close he could. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes, and suddenly his form started to tremble in my arms. A moment later I realized that he was crying, that he was letting me see him cry, something I thought I wasn’t going to be able to see for a long time.

“Shh,” I hushed, pulling him even closer to me, and starting to rock back and forth. “Shh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. I won’t let you go, either.”

“Okay,” he answered, his voice an octave higher than usual and scratchy with raw emotion.

“Are you guys ready to start the game!?” I heard Tyler suddenly exclaim, interrupting Dan’s and my moment. Dan stiffened in my arms and pulled away slowly, like he was reluctant to leave the embrace.

“Yeah, sure,” Dan replied, wiping the tears off of his face. Worried, I reached between us and linked our hands together again and watched the grin reappear on his face.

“Well, let’s start!” Anthony proclaimed, reaching forward and starting to deal the money.

TWELVE ACTUAL HOURS OF EXTREME PAIN, LAUGHTER AND EMBARRASSMENT LATER . . .

“No!” Connor screeched when he rolled a seven. “Dang it dang it dang it dang it!” Next to me, Dan burst into a fit of giggles.

“Aw, Connor, did you just land on my Boardwalk that currently has a hotel on it? Do you have that two thousand dollars to give me?” Dan taunted, still giggling.

“No,” Connor muttered in annoyance, huffing and crossing his arms.

“Do you have to mortgage your last three properties to pay me back? Oh, and even then you still can’t pay me back? That really sucks, doesn’t it?” I found myself bursting out with laughter at Dan’s attempt to trash talk (though if you’re trash talking during a Monopoly game, there’s already so many things wrong with your trash talking attempt. And your life, to be quite honest).

“Well, it’s not like we were expecting any other outcome,” I announced, shrugging. “Mr. Math Genius,” I added as an undertone, causing Dan to huff in annoyance and shove me gently away from him, before returning to my side not even a moment later.

“Shut up, it’s not like I didn’t go easy on you guys,” Dan scoffed, causing Connor and Tyler to start yelling in protest.

“Yeah right, like you were going easy on me—” Tyler retorted.

“If you were going easy on me I would’ve won, I’ve never lost a game of Monopoly before!” Connor exclaimed.

“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Dan teased, starting to laugh against me. I felt a small chuckle of my own surface, along with a lopsided smile at Dan.

September 4th, 2037

I didn’t know.

How could I have known?

I’ve spent my whole life around other people, helping them through their problems, holding onto them as they carefully staggered their way through their own falling apart life.

So I should’ve known that someone close to me, the person closest to me in the whole world was struggling to carry on, struggling to carry the crushing weight of their existence and the certain absence of other people’s existence from their life.

It should have been me he clung onto at night and sobbed into, it should have been me that he turned to when just existing became too tedious a task.

He said that this was something he didn’t want to tell me about because he didn’t want pity, he didn’t want to burden me further when I already had problems of my own.

But I would’ve never pitied him.

Yes, I would have held him all of those nights he fell asleep alone crying into his own arms while he yearned to have a pair wrapped around his frame besides his own.

Yes, I would have wiped away his tears and kissed them away.

Yes, I would have whispered sweet nothings in his ear, mumbled promises of everything working out in the end, paint pictures of a fantasy world he had to escape to.

And yes, I would have felt pain for him. Felt angry that he had to go through any of this. Because he deserves none of this; all he deserves is the absolute best.

I would have even taken all of the pain from him in a heartbeat, stepped in and felt the grief wracking my own spine, feel the sorrow and utter agony he had to experience all of those years.

But pity?

No.

Never.

///

“I need to talk to you about something,” Dan blurted out of the blue, causing my energetic rant about narwhal horns to come to a screeching halt. My entire body stood on end as I tensed, unsure and afraid of what was to come next (as was human instinct, of course).

“What?” I asked, trying to keep a calm and steady voice but failing miserably. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing—I just—I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now,” Dan admitted reluctantly, starting to nervously pick at his nails from his seat on my bed.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, my whole body filling with panic. What could this possibly be about? Someone was going to die, weren’t they? Was he going to die? Oh God.

“No, it’s nothing bad or anything, just something that I’ve never really told anyone that I just . . . want to get off my chest, and I feel like I can trust you. Or if I can’t trust you, I can’t trust anyone,” Dan enunciated carefully, letting his words fall out not in a disorganized clump of incomprehensible words, but instead thinking each sentence through and carefully structuring it.

“Phil . . . when I was six . . . my . . .” Dan trailed off, his eyes welling up with tears as he stopped and looked away towards my wall, blinking furiously. “Sorry. I thought I could do this without crying now, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, Dan. It’ll be okay,” I reassured, walking across the room and settling nervously in the bed, turning to look at Dan with what I hoped was an encouraging stare. He breathed deeply, clearly trying to calm himself down before he started to freak out.

“Look . . . um, when I was little, about six and three-quarters . . . I killed my parents,” he blurted, stopping and ducking away, shame coating his entire being, seeming to hang over his entire existence like a shroud.

“Oh, Dan,” I breathed, reaching over and grabbing Dan before pulling him into my lap, Silently I ran my hands through his hair, closing my eyes as I tried to process any of the information I had just learned.

There was no pity, no fear.

All I felt was the pain, my own pain and the countless agonizing hours of pain that Dan must’ve gone through.

“There was a candle, in my room. I was up late one night reading,” Dan sniffled, the retelling of the story clearly causing him an immeasurable amount of pain. “Somewhere around the middle of Robinson Crusoe, as the middle can be a bit slow, I fell asleep.”

I let out a small gasp, immediately stifling the noise afterwards. Right now Dan needed strength, someone to lean on and pass a bit of the pain onto. And I desperately wanted to be that person.

“In the middle of the night, while I was sleeping, the flame managed to spread across my desk, to my curtains, burning my entire house down, destroying everything my family and I had ever known while I laid unaffected, at least until the screams started.” Dan bowed his head as emotion took over his body and rendered him unable to speak. Instead I just pulled him into my chest, holding him as he sobbed, gently rubbing his back as I tried to convey to him that it was okay, that everything would be okay, that nothing had changed between us now.

“Dan, I love you,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head softly, causing his sobs to slowly start to ebb out. “No matter what. Don’t ever tell yourself anything different, because it’s not true. I love you, every stupid ridiculous adorable lovable part about you, Dan, I love. And I’m here for you. Always. That’s something that you can count on, even if it seems like the rest of your world is falling apart, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan mumbled in response, my words seeming to shock him into a stupor of confusion and happiness.

Never pity. Only love.

October 2nd, 2037

I woke up to the most incredible feeling in the world, the most incredible person in the world ensnared in my arms, their legs tangled through mine carelessly. Except it wasn’t carelessness that flooded through my body now at the feel of his body pressed up against me. All I could feel was love—just love, the mindblowing exhilarating feeling that accompanies loving someone, the overwhelming protective urge to always be with them, to spit at anyone that comes anywhere near them or hurts them at all in any way..

It was something I thought that I would never get the opportunity to experience. Throughout my whole life it was always me loving unconditionally, always pouring everything into my relationships. But no one really appreciates that when they’ve been loved their whole life.

But Dan. He hadn’t been loved his whole life, he wasn’t used to people showing that they actually cared about him, at least not anymore. So he was able to love me back. Unlike everyone else, who just thought me pouring everything into other people was ridiculous, he found comfort in it, was able to appreciate it.

And I love him.

I really really do.

In fact, I’m more sure about this than I’ve been sure about anything before in my life.

///

“Okay lovebirds, I understand that the two of you are just exploring your new relationship, but you have the rest of our time out in space to do that with each other. Right now, though, I think we need to have a mandatory group bonding session!” a voice told me, yanking me out of my bleary half-awake loving thoughts.

“New relationship?” I heard a voice grunt out next to my ear—Dan, I would presume. Unless Tyler crawled into my bed last night when he had a nightmare, which I somehow found myself doubting.

“You know, how you and Phil are dating now? That relationship? The reason why we’re holding the mandatory crew meeting, so we can discuss a system where you tell us before you have sex so we can put in earplugs and not walk in on you?” Tyler explained. I could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Dan screeched, sounding mortified.

“Honey, calm down. He’s just being an ass, I’m sure there’s an actual reason why we had to call a meeting,” I explained sleepily, not as annoyed with Tyler as I once would have been. Now that I actually knew him better, I could see that he used the humor to hide what he was actually feeling, to hide how nervous he really was about how Dan would react to him.

“Excuse me!?” Tyler yelled in indignation, punching my shoulder. “What did you just call me?!”

“Calm down, Tyler. We’ll be out in a few minutes. Now get out,” I mumbled sleepily, barely even registering it as Tyler slinked out of the room silently.

“Phil?” Dan asked suddenly, his voice high and strained as it always was in the mornings. “Did I  . . . did I dream last night?”

Immediately any thoughts I’d had of falling back asleep for a few minutes before waking up were shattered instantaneously. “What do you remember from last night?”

“I . . . I told you about . . . my parents. Then you told me that it didn’t matter to you, that no matter what you still . . . love me,” Dan articulated carefully, sounding like he’d really thought this out since he woke up.

“That was real. You weren’t dreaming,” I confirmed, sitting up and turning to face him. His face was scrunched up in thought as he let my statement sink in.

“So . . . you love me?” Dan inquired softly, his eyes seeming to sparkle in the faint lighting as he spoke “Like . . . you actually love me? Despite everything I am and everything I come with? You can really look past what I’ve before and see who am I now?”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” I whispered. “No matter who you’ve been, Dan, or what you will be, I love you. Because I love you. I don’t know why, or why I’m even so drawn to you in the first place. All I know is that I am drawn to you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Phil . . .” Dan trailed off, his expression guarded. “Can I ask . . . how . . . you love me?”

“I just told you that, that it doesn’t matter to me. What do you mean how could I love you? Stop doubting yourself, Dan, for once in your goddamn life realize that you are amazing and I feel honored to even get to know you—”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Dan interrupted, his face turning a bright red. “I mean . . . in what way do you love me?” His face burned a bright red as he ducked his head away from me, almost in shame.

And I found myself freezing.

Dan also . . . loved me . . . like . . . that.

“I . . . I love you like you are the most important thing in my entire life, like I feel like I want to spend the rest of my life with you, protecting you and holding you in my arms and arguing with you. I love you like you are the best person I will meet in my entire life—no, not like you are, you are the best person I will ever meet, without a single doubt in my mind. Dan, I believe that every person has someone out there that was made just for them, someone whose genes line up perfectly with another and perfectly complement each other. Despite it seeming improbable, I believe in soul mates. Even if you don’t believe in soul mates, I do. And I believe you are mine,” I confessed all at once, somehow managing not to stutter over my words, which was a new for me. In most pressuring situations I become tongue-tied and mess up my words and seem like I can’t even speak English anymore.

I suppose that there are some people that just make you feel like yourself, no matter how hard it may be to be yourself sometimes.

“I do believe in soul mates,” Dan answered few minutes later, confidence surging his voice for the first time since last night. “In fact, I’m one of those people that believe in the red strings of fate that tie us to someone that we’re meant to meet. With all that’s happened to make us meet and keep drawing us together after we met, the red strings between us must be threaded together and weaving together in an incomprehensible knot that will never snap despite all of the pressure that may be inflicted upon it.”

“Kind of like our relationship,” I stated, shrugging lightly. Next to me Dan gave me a confused look, prompting me to elaborate. “What we have together is endlessly complex, something that most others can’t understand. And no matter how much pressure is put on our relationship, how much strain and tension, it could never snap. Never.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dan inquired, sitting up and facing me, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he sent me a thoughtful look, clearly thinking about something I didn’t know about. His bright brown eyes shone as he looked at me, his face crinkling up as he smiles. And dare I say . . . the way he’s looking at me, it feels like it’s filled with so much emotion, so much raw tender love and compassion and it was so obvious that he really truly and genuinely cared. Before, they were just words he was saying, but now just looking at him, I can see the love that flickers between us as we speak.

It was something I’d never seen in a couple before. Not even my parents would look at each other this way, like the other was their complete and utter world and they’d die for them in a heartbeat.

Actually, Dan is my world, and I would die for him in a heartbeat.

Perhaps he isn’t the only one who looks completely and hopelessly head over heels in love when he stares at the one he cares about. Tyler and Connor and Anthony all saw something in the way I looked at him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. Besides the way I feel about you,” I confirmed, after sitting and gathering my thoughts into an articulate phrase for about a minute.

“Well in that case . . .” Dan whispered softly, the words barely audible from his lips, as he hardly articulated the words in the first place.

And then Dan was leaning in, shifting from his position on the other side of the bed to lie closer to me as he continued to get closer. Realizing his intentions, I let my eyes flutter close slowly just before we made contact, but after about thirty seconds of thick tension between the two of us, I opened my eyes again, his deep brown eyes already fixated on me. He appeared nervous, his bottom lip trembling slightly, and for a moment I had to wonder if maybe he had never kissed someone before.

“Is this okay?” he questioned desperately. “Like, you don’t think I’m weird or—”

“Dan,” I stressed, rolling my eyes. Deciding that instead of waiting for Dan to make the first move, I was just going to do it myself—God knows I’ve been waiting long enough, there was no reason for us to delay it any further.

And so I leaned forward and pressed our lips together softly before he could reply. The words he was planning on responding with got stuck in his throat and he ended up making a loud noise of shock, his eyes going wide as his whole body tensed up and became rigid for a moment.

Until I pulled him into my arms, and lost myself in the kiss, lost myself in the feeling of just holding Dan, feeling Dan, breathing in Dan, kissing Dan. It felt like all of my senses had been heightened, and I could feel and hear everything—if I always felt like this I’d be a fucking super hero. Dan slowly relaxed in my arms, letting the tension flood out of his body as he went limp in my arms and kissed me back harder, cautiously placing a hand on the small of my back where my shirt had ridden up.

In response I just clutched him harder, kissed him deeper and more passionately, determined to show him how I felt without saying any words, to just hold him and kiss him until neither of us could breathe anymore and have him understand how much I love him.

I think he knows now, though.

“HEY! YOU TWO WERE SUPPOSED TO BE OUT THIRTY MINUTES AGO! STOP MAKING OUT AND COME TO THE DINING ROOM RIGHT NOW!” someone screeched from the door, making me jump apart from Dan in surprise.

Standing in the door looking unimpressed was Tyler, glaring at the two of us. “I’m not leaving until the two of you are up and dressed and then walking towards the dining room.”

“I hate you,” I groaned, but got up anyways. “But I’m not getting dressed, if you want to call a mandatory meeting this early you’ll deal with me in my pajamas.”

“IT’S TWO IN THE AFTERNOON, IT’S NOT THE MORNING ANYMORE!” Tyler screeched, his whole face turning red as he lectured me.

“We’re in space, there’s no such thing as the concept of time like we have on Earth. If we want to sleep until five in the afternoon, there’s nothing stopping us,” Dan defended, becoming defensive the moment Tyler started scolding me.

“Calm down lover boy, I was just teasing him,” Tyler reassured, holding his hands up in the air and backing away slowly, as if he was afraid Dan would jump forward and stab him for insulting me.

“What, you thought I was being serious? I was just joking, Tyler, lighten up,” Dan laughed, his face lighting up as he started giggling. The corner of my mouth quirked up at the sight of him laughing without filtering his reaction around Tyler.

“O-oh,” Tyler stuttered, seeming at a loss for words. He turned to me with an incredulous look on his face, his jaw dropped open as he mouthed ‘he’s laughing’. In response I just chuckled at his reaction, used to seeing Dan laugh by now so I wasn’t nearly as shocked as he was. “I’ll just—um—go to the dining room now.”

Tyler ran out the door after abruptly excusing himself from the conversation. Dan’s laughter slowly died out until he walked up to me, a smile painted across his face.

“Shall we?” he offered, holding out his arm to me for me to link together with his.

“We shall,” I agreed, looping my arm through his and pulling his body close to mine as we both started walking towards the dining room to attend the meeting.

///

“Nice shoes,” Connor commented, not even looking up from his notes he was reading over when we walked into the room.

“Shut up,” Dan grumbled, flushing a bright red as he shuffled his feet slightly, revealing that he was, in fact, wearing bunny slippers.

“Okay, fine. How about we discuss your new relationship instead? How’s that whole thing going? If you ever need any advice or pointers about anything my door’s always open—unless there’s a sock on it, of course—”

“Connor!” I yelped, turning a bright red at his words.

“Which the two of you need to start doing if you guys want a bit of privacy as well. I do NOT want to walk in on anything—”

“Tyler!” Dan yelled this time. “We’re not . . . like, going to . . . you know . . . do that . . . anytime soon,” he stuttered off, his whole face a shade of red I’d never seen on him before.

“Wait, then what were the two of you doing all of last night?” Connor asked, confusion covering his face as he squinted up at the two of us from his seat.

“We were just talking about . . . everything, really,” I answered, not entirely sure how to reply. Dan probably wouldn’t appreciate me telling them what he told me last night, so I just decided to be as vague as possible.

“Everything? What does that mean?” Tyler questioned, looking even more confused. Next to him, Anthony was typing away on his laptop, his eyes wide as he stared at the screen and continued typing frantically. Typical Anthony, though, tuning out completely from the conversation as he worked.

“I . . . I told Phil about something that I hadn’t told anyone before,” Dan spoke quietly, but all of us could still hear him due to how silent the room had grown apart from the constant clacking of Anthony typing on his computer. My mouth fell open as I turned to face Dan, realizing that he was about to tell them too.

Wow, he really wanted to get along with crew now.

I have to wonder if that might have anything to do with me.

Or perhaps I just know that it has everything to do with me.

“What does that mean?” Connor inquired slowly, leaning forward in his seat and growing serious.

“Um . . . I told him that . . . um . . . When I was a kid I did something horrible,” he stammered, looking down at the ground as guilt flooded his expression. I slid next to him, linking our hands together and sending him a small reassuring smile as I whispered,

“It’s okay.”

“One night when I was six, one clear crisp November nights—you know those nights, where you just look out the window and stare at the trees and stars and think about how vast the sky really is and how the universe may be an infinite size, something we’ll never be able to fully explore as the wind comes in through your window, stinging your face slightly with its gentle pinpricks, but a nice sting, one that feels refreshing and energizing—”

“I know those nights,” Anthony suddenly whispered, before turning red and looking back to his computer. “Sorry, continue.”

“Anyways, um, after staring out my window for a while, I decided to start reading a new book, as it was already quite late, and I wanted to get at least halfway through Robinson Crusoe, the new book my parents had bought for me,” Dan paused for a moment, taking a shaking breath before continuing. “About halfway through—”

“Halfway through? In one night? It took me a month to read Robinson Crusoe! And you were six!” Tyler exclaimed, wonderment taking over his face. “Wow, you must’ve been one smart kid.”

“Not smart enough,” Dan whispered, closing his eyes as the rest of the room fell silent again. “Halfway through, during the slow part, I fell asleep by the candlelight. Little me didn’t really think much of this, the words seemed to lull me into sleep, into their grasp and the thought of blowing out the candle never even crossed my mind.

“I woke up a while later to screams echoing throughout the house. By then, the fire had spread. It was too big for me to blow out then.” Dan stopped speaking abruptly as his eyes started to fill up with tears. “And it was too late. My parents were dead while I laid in my room sleeping, blissfully unaware as the rest of my house went up in flames.”

“Dan,” Connor breathed, his eyes welling up with tears as well as he gazed at Dan. “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault, you know that?”

“But it was my fault,” Dan insisted. “Though . . . it was an accident. And there’s nothing I can do to change it now.

“I just wish that . . . I could see them one more time. Tell them how much I appreciated them pushing me to be the best one more time, just tell them how much I love them . . .” Dan trailed off, the tears in his eyes starting to fall and he hastily reached up and wiped them away, hiccuping as he tried to hide the fact that he was crying despite it being painfully obvious. “Sorry if it seems like I’m complaining, it’s just that I really cared about them, you know, and when it feels like you’re the reason the people you care about die . . .”

“It’s possible,” Anthony murmured softly in the room, but loud enough for all of us to hear him and turn to him with wide eyes. “Seeing your parents again.”

“What!?” Dan barked, his eyes going wide and revealing just how bloodshot they really were from crying. “Are you lying!?”

“No . . . that’s what I’ve been working on for the past couple weeks. The spacecraft’s radar picked up a signal a little ways away, and the object the signal is showing me is . . . very peculiar,” Anthony explained, biting his lip slightly as he spoke.

“What did you find?” I asked softly, knowing what Anthony meant. He had found something, something that could help us—but the object, whatever it was could potentially be dangerous

“They’re called cosmic strings,” Anthony continued apprehensively, like he wanted to explain it to us but didn’t want to get our hopes up too much. “Have you heard of them before?”

“Aren’t they the theoretical objects that some scientists predict were made during the big bang when the universe went through a phase transition? From what I’ve read, scientists believe that they are one-dimensional like line objects, as thin as an atom that have a density of over a million tons—like vortex lines in liquid helium, almost?” Dan questioned, seeming unsure of his knowledge as he rattled off what he remembered, taking a seat as he spoke, me sliding into the chair next to him not even a moment later.

“Wow, not bad,” Anthony remarked, looking over at Dan with an impressed expression. Dan just flushed and glanced down at the table. “I definitely didn’t remember that much about them, I had to look them up and study them a bit.”

“Okay, but how exactly do cosmic strings relate to what you’re talking about?” Tyler questioned, before his eyes got wide a moment later and he continued, “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that!”

“It’s fine, Tyler, don’t worry about it,” Anthony assured, turning to his computer and typing a little bit before turning back to face him. “However, cosmic strings have everything to do with what I’m talking about.”

“And what may that be?” Connor didn’t look up from the table when he spoke, his gaze remained fixated on a certain point on the table.

“There’s two nearby,” Anthony finally admitted. “Cosmic strings warp space time as they move, but when two cosmic strings get near each other . . . they move towards each other at the speed of light, and when they hit . . . it does some really weird things to spacetime. Like, for example, allow for time travel. Or allow for traveling to a parallel universe. The spacetime around the cosmic strings after they collide turns the virtual particles in the spacetime into almost real particles with large densities and energies.”

“Wait . . . so I could see my parents again?” Dan gasped, his mouth dropping as he looked at Anthony.

“But there are risks, aren’t there? We might come out at the wrong place in time, or go into a parallel universe and not be able to come back,” Connor elaborated, a perplexed look crossing his face.

“That I can’t deny,” Anthony sighed, looking defeated. “I’ve tried to look and see if any scientists have predicted no risk with entering the area where space time has been thrown off due to the cosmic string interaction but . . . there’s nothing.”

“I’ll go with Dan,” I stated firmly, leaving no room in my voice for discussion. “The two of us can go in the extra pod, the one meant for emergencies.”

“Phil,” Anthony said, sounding exhausted. “That’s too dangerous. We couldn’t let the two of you go, I could be sending you two on a suicide mission.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? If we die, at least it means that we died together, happy, while trying to make Dan’s dream come true. I’d die for that to happen!” I articulated, sounding confident and put together for once while thinking and speaking on the spot.

“Or I could go alone,” Dan suggested meekly.

“Absolutely not,” I spat. “If you go anywhere, I’m going with you.”

“I suppose we could tell NASA that we noticed something odd in the radar system and sent you two to go check it out . . .” Anthony said slowly, a hopeful glint appearing in his eyes as he thought about it. “It just might work.”

“Phil, I couldn’t ask you to—”

“Dan,” I stressed, turning to glare at him. “You can’t convince me not to go with you. If you want to go, I’m going to go with you. Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dan muttered in defeat.

“There’s no other way to time travel? Nothing?” Tyler piped up suddenly, his voice dripping with confusion.

“Well, theoretically, yes. Realistically, besides cosmic strings? No, not really,” Anthony explained. “We’ve yet to find a wormhole, and even if we did, the spaceship we’d send into it would have to travel at the speed of light just to enter it, and our technology isn’t that advanced yet. Traveling into a black hole is too risky, and too far away as well. The other theory is that in a universe where all of the matter is rotating, if you go off in a spaceship you could end up coming back years before you actually set off. However, this solution of general relativity that Kurt Goedel came up with would require the matter in our universe to be rotating, and we don’t know if it does for sure.”

“Also, people wouldn’t live long enough in the ship to actually be alive when it arrived back before it left, with the speed our ships go now,” Dan added.

“So . . . would you guys tell NASA that so Dan and I can go to the cosmic string collision?” I questioned, looking at the three men also sat around the table.

“Actually . . . it does work,” Dan suddenly interjected, his voice soft.

“Excuse me?” Anthony inquired. “How do you know for sure?”

“When I was young . . . maybe like four or five . . . I saw someone talking to my parents, hugging them, someone I’d never seen before,” Dan explained, his eyes going a shade darker as he remembered.

“Who was it?” Connor asked softly. “Phil?”

“No,” Dan said firmly. “It was me. Now.”

October 5th, 2037

“Why do you always write in that notebook? It seems like everytime I turn around you have it out and are writing frantically in it,” Dan commented from his position in the pilot’s seat of the small spacecraft we were sitting in.

“Because it’s my job, it’s why NASA hired me to go on this mission,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “Plus I like writing down everything that happens.”

“Yeah, but I’ve read your journal. You include actual dialogue that’s the exact words people spoke. Most people don’t write like that in their journals, they just kind of summarize their feelings about the day, Phil,” Dan told me, shrugging slightly as he carefully steered the ship the left a tiny bit.

“Well . . . um, that’s because I haveaphotographicmemory,” I mumbled, getting progressively quieter as I continued to talk.

“What? Actually speak English, please,” Dan joked, obviously trying to get me to relax and realize that whatever it was, I could talk to him about it.

“I said I have a photographic memory,” I spoke quietly, looking over out the window, my face turning red. Ever since I was born, I strongly disliked sharing that fact with people. It just makes them look at you differently because you can clearly recall every conversation you’ve had, something you looked at as clear as a picture in your mind. Even telling NASA when I applied that I had a photographic memory and would be excellent at logging a day’s events because of it was difficult for me.

“Really? You’ve never told me that before,” Dan commented, looking pretty nonchalant about my response. “Me too, actually.”

“Wait, what? Are you serious?” I gasped, turning to face him, ignoring the captivating view of the spacetime madness the cosmic strings had caused outside the window.

“Yeah. How do you think I got accepted to NASA? My charming good looks?” he joked, laughing.

“That was definitely it,” I confirmed sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“Maybe if you were the admissions officer,” Dan laughed.

Then the spaceship entered the region of distorted spacetime. Without control, the spaceship started lurching out of control, alarms going off all over the craft, the alarms lighting up the control panel, painting Dan’s worried face with a slight red glow.

“It’s taking a lot of fuel for the spacecraft to keep flying when there’s this much resistance!” Dan yelled, his lip starting to tremble as he frantically tried to punch codes into the control panel. “We just have to reach that light over there, I see my parents through the distortion, I think if we make it there we should be fine. But I don’t know if we will make it there, this spacecraft doesn’t hold much fuel in the first place.” Helplessly, Dan stared at the control panel, his eyes welling up with tears as he started to panic.

“Maybe if we got rid of some of the weight—”

And then I knew exactly what I had to do. To save Dan, to save him from floating around in this cosmic spacetime hell where they dangle memories in your face forever.

To let him see his parents again, like he wanted to.

I’m sorry Dan.

Goodbye.

I love you.

November 2nd, 2018

It worked, I suppose.

I’m back then, back in 2018, back when I was a child and my parents were still there. Before I fucked everything up beyond fixing, ruining the people I cared about.

In fact, I’m sitting in a motel on the street I grew up on, writing this. Just down the street, Dan lives on, blissfully ignorant to the pain his future self will be subjected to. Lives on without knowing that the person he fell for is dead.

Also because of me—my fault again. It’s always my fault.

I don’t know how to write like he did. He knew how to paint beautiful pictures of scenes, describe his feelings in a moment along with the dialogue. But me . . . I don’t know how to write down my feelings. With Phil I felt like I could finally feel again, after repressing them for so long after my parent’s death.

But now he’s dead too.

And I don’t know how to do this without him, how to approach them without him. I don’t think I can.

Why would he sacrifice himself for me? I’m not worth it—and I never will be. So why would he make such a brash decision? Especially one that leaves me alone without him, the only one I love from my time.

It hurts.

Too much.

\\\

Somehow I found the courage to knock.

I managed to conjure up the willpower to get up, to walk down the street to my childhood home.

And knock.

“How can I help you?” a voice asked, yanking me away from my thoughts. It was my mother. My mom.

My role model, my inspiration, everything I aspired to be.

“You know, you look really familiar. Do we know each other?” she questioned, shooting me a curious look.

“Yes,” I gasped before I could stop myself. “It’s me. Dan. Just . . . a bit grown up, I suppose.” She just stood there, her mouth open in an ‘O’ shape.

“How are you . . . how could you possibly . . . why . . . ?” she breathed, blown away.

“In the future two cosmic strings collided. I was on a mission to Mars at the time, but the crew I was with let me go so I could see you guys again,” I hurriedly explained, tears welling up in my eyes as I looked at her. “I thought I would never see you again,” I sobbed, lurching forward and pulling her into a hug and crying into her shoulder.

“Dan, I would never leave you! You know that, why would you ever say that!” she exclaimed passionately, wrapping her arms back around me without hesitation. “Rylan, get out here now!”

“You guys didn’t leave,” I whispered into her ear in a broken voice. “Of course you guys didn’t leave. It was me. It was all my fault. I made you guys leave.”

My dad ran out of the house, up to the two of us in the driveway, carefully shutting the door behind him. “Emily? What’s wrong? I had to leave Dan in the house alone.”

“Rylan,” she breathed, taking a step away from me and allowing him to look at me for the first time. “Look at him. It’s him.”

“D . . . Dan . . . is that you?” he asked incredulously, staring at me in shock. “Did you somehow . . . time travel here?”

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, tears welling up in my eyes again. “I j-just had to see you guys again. When the opportunity presented itself, I just couldn’t turn away the chance to see you again.”

“Again? Why don’t you just go see us in your time?” he asked, confusion glinting in his eyes.

“B-because,” I whimpered. “You guys are dead then. Because of me. Because I was so, so dumb and couldn’t even blow out a candle before I fell asleep. Because of me you guys are dead and I was left alone and it’s all my fault.”

“Dan!” my dad exclaimed. “Of course that’s not your fault. It’s a simple accident, any of us could’ve done it. I’ve gone to bed leaving candles burning before, how could I blame you for doing the same as a child?”

“What if I just stay until when you guys are supposed to die? I’ll just save you, and you’ll never die!” I exclaimed suddenly, struck with the brilliant idea out of nowhere.

“No, Dan!” my mom hissed. “Are you crazy? That’ll create a paradox—you’ll save us, and we’ll be alive, but then you’ll never come here to save us in the first place, and we’ll be dead again, then the whole process starts over again.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I wailed. “I have nobody! The person I fell in love with came with me on the spacecraft to meet you guys, but he ended up flinging himself out of the spacecraft so the weight was lower and the fuel would be able to get me all the way here! Don’t you understand? Not only are you dead, but when I finally opened up to someone again and loved them, they left me too! And it’s all my fault!”

“Oh Dan, no. Baby, no,” my mother hushed, stepping forward and pulling my cowering form into her arms, holding me close and swaying the two of us as I sobbed. “None of this is your fault. Absolutely none of it. You just have to work harder for the things in your life than other people do—but that means that you’ll appreciate what you have more than others in the end because you know how hard it is to find someone like that.”

“He really is amazing,” I sobbed, laughing slightly as I sniffed loudly. “I think he’s my soulmate, actually. The two of us just get along so incredibly and there’s never a dull moment between us, and he just makes me so damn happy.”

“Then save him,” my dad said, rolling his eyes as he joined in on our hug, pulling me closer to him as well. “We’ll be here, taking care of you and raising you right until we die. And then he will take care of you when we’re gone, it sounds like we can trust him with that.”

“How am I supposed to save him? He’s just floating around in a messed up area of spacetime, probably seeing all of these memories surrounding him that he can’t reach! There’s nothing I can do now,” I whimpered into my dad’s shoulder.

“Oh, Dan. Do I really have to spell it out for you?” he chuckled. “I thought you were a genius.”

“Dad,” I groaned, but I couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped my throat at his words.

“Dan, you know how to time travel for God’s sake. Travel back to the time right as he jumped in and swoop in and save him before he runs out of oxygen. Obviously. Clearly this guy hasn’t forced you to watch enough cheesy romance movies yet,” my mom scoffed, sounding offended by her last phrase.

“Mom, we’ve been on a spaceship for the past year. That’s where we met, mom. There’s really been no way or time to watch chick flicks and romance movies,” I answered, rolling my eyes in annoyance. “Geez.”

“Well, now you have all of the time in the world I suppose,” my dad joked, giving me one final squeeze before pulling apart slowly. “Now go. I’m sure you have to fix your spaceship before you leave, and I’m sure you’re going to want to get there as soon as you can. I think. How does time travel work for the one traveling?”

“Oh hush!” I laughed, shoving him.

“Bring him by before we die, Dan honey, if you could?” my mom inquired with a hopeful face.

“Of course!” I answered, smiling at her happily. “I’d love for you guys to meet him.”

“What’s his name?” my dad asked. “Then you should really go.”

“Philip Lester. But he likes to be called Phil,” I responded, a faint smile appearing on my face at just the thought of Phil. “He’s basically the human embodiment of the sun—always happy, cheery, just brightens up the room he’s in. Makes other people and planets look dim compared to him. I call him Sunshine sometimes—not as much as I used to, but I do—because he is my literal sunshine. Without I’m left disoriented, alone, and confused, unable to survive without him. Every moment with him feels timeless, like something I’m always going to remember even if it’s just a split second loving glance he sends me at three in the morning when we’re talking.”

“Augenblick,” my dad muttered under his breath. “A decisive moment that in time is fleeting, yet momentously eventful and incredibly significant.”

“That sounds like a lot with Phil. He just does stuff sometimes, like whisper I love you or kiss me and it means the world to me,” I answered honestly.

“Well, don’t just stand there talking about everything he does and how he makes you feel! I know how soulmates work. Now go save him!” my mom screeched, pushing me down the driveway. “I love you, so now go save the one you love so maybe one day you can be a parent too.”

“Too soon, mom,” I groaned.

But I smiled anyways, despite my annoyed words.

October 5th, 2037

I was finally back to save him.

It took a year of repairing the spacecraft, then another year and a half in space traveling back to the cosmic string collision.

But I was finally back to save him.

As I flew through the area with warped space time (this time with plenty of fuel), I searched for the memory that would show Phil jumping out of the spacecraft. After a few long minutes of searching I finally found it and flew through it without hesitation.

I came out on the other side, watching the other spacecraft containing me fly through a past memory with my parents and disappear.

But I didn’t care about that.

What I did care about was the man that was currently floating aimlessly through space, clearly squeezing his eyes shut and tensing his entire body.

So I took my parents advice and followed my heart. I decided to not care what the rest of the world would think as I rushed over to him, opened the top hatch and let him tumble into the spacecraft, gravity suddenly affecting him again.

With ease I caught him, and closed the top hatch before turning back to just stare at him.

He laid limply in my arms, his head lolled slightly to the side, his raven black hair ruffled up in a quiff above his head messily. His eyes were still scrunched shut, like he thought he was still in freefall through space and he was just trying to block it out.

But it was Phil. Everything about him just screamed Phil, proclaimed that this was, in fact, the man I’m in love with.

So I leaned forwards and rested our foreheads together and whispered, “I love you.”

And then I kissed him softly, kissed him until he kissed me back, recognizing my lips from anyone else’s in the world.

“Hey,” I muttered, pulling him into my arms again. “You’re safe now. You’ll always be safe now.”

“God, I love you,” he murmured in my ear. “I can’t believe you found a way to save me.”

“I’ll always find a way to save you,” I responded softly, basking in the scent and feeling of Phil after being away from it for so long. He’d only been falling for a few seconds until I swooped in and saved him, but I’d been apart from him for two and half years, and I wanted to savour every moment with him, never take a moment of him being with me for granted.

Not ever again.

THE END.

And they lived happily ever after, forever and ever, for infinity and beyond.

You are such a dork.

But you love me (*^_^*)

Somehow. Who knows how I put up with you.

You know, I thought most of your writing wasn’t going to be that great from your comment about not being able to write that well, but it was actually pretty good. I mean, you could do with a few lessons from me and a bit more of an extensive vocabulary.

Oh fuck off.

But Dan, I thought you couldn’t live without me, I thought I was like the literal sun to me, and me just being in your presence makes your life makes it so much better!

That was then, this is now. I’ll gladly throw you out of the moving spacecraft now.

Am I still supposed to give this notebook to NASA?

I wouldn’t suggest it. They might think that we’re both slightly insane.

I mean, time travel is a theoretical concept to them still, they probably wouldn’t believe us if we said you actually went back in time and got advice from your long since deceased parents.

I was thinking more along the lines of them reading our personal thoughts and just thinking that we were insane, but yeah, the time travel stuff doesn’t really help either.

Anyways, so how’s your day going? (^-^)

Phil, I am literally just sitting at the front of this spacecraft headed back to Earth passing a notebook back and forth with you while giggling about it. How do you think my day is going?

Clearly I don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked. Duh.

You are literally five.

Does that make you a pedophile then?

Please shut up.  Just actually talk to me like a normal person.

No! I’m not a normal person, remember? \(^o^)/

Dork.

You say that like you’re not also a complete and utter nerd and dork.

Nerd.

R00d.

Plz stahp with the txt tlk it hurts mah brain m8.

Fine. NASA will know that you’re the one who ruined this amazing conversation and drew my notebook about our space mission to a close.

I THOUGHT WE WEREN’T SHOWING NASA THIS JOURNAL BECAUSE THEY’D HAVE TO PUT US UP FOR A PSYCHIATRIC EXAMINATION.

Hee hee. You’re cute when you’re mad ^_^

That’s it. I’m done with you.

NOOOO Dan no stop walking away get back here Dan NOOOOO. Rude. How rude. Just ignore the literal sun, I’m sure that’ll end well for you.

The end. For real this time. Phil, don’t you dare write another sentence.

Another sentence.

Works Cited

Anderson, David Lewis, Dr. “Cosmic Strings.” Anderson Institute, andersoninsitute.com, www.andersoninstitute.com/cosmic-strings.html. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.

Asthana, Anushka, and David Smith. “Einstein Was Right: Space and Time Bend.” theguardian, www.theguardian.com, 14 Apr. 2007, www.theguardian.com/science/2007/apr/15/spaceexploration.universe. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.

Bonsor, Kevin. “How Time Travel Will Work.” Bibliotecapleyades, bibliotecapleyades.net, www.bibliotecapleyades.net/ciencia/time_travel/esp_ciencia_timetravel25.htm. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.

Bonsor, Kevin, and Robert Lamb. “How Time Travel Works- Cosmic Strings.” How Stuff Works Science, science.howstuffworks.com, science.howstuffworks.com/science-vs-myth/everyday-myths/time-travel5.htm. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.

“Do Cosmic Strings Exist?” LIGO Scientific Collaboration, www.ligo.org, www.ligo.org/science/Publication-S5S6CosmicStrings/flyer.pdf. Accessed 16 Mar. 2017.

Engel, Joshua. “Relativity (Physics): If Matter Bends Space Time, What Does It Bend In?” Quora, quora.com, 8 May 2012, www.quora.com/Relativity-physics-If-matter-bends-spacetime-what-does-it-bend-in. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.

Hawking, Stephen. “Space and Time Warps.” Stephen Hawking, hawking.org.uk, www.hawking.org.uk/space-and-time-warps.html. Accessed 15 Mar. 2017.