#a scientific study should be done on my brain honestly

[arthursfuckinghat]

RDR2 has done irreversible damage to my brain, any mention of plans or Tahiti and I get sent into orbit

[witchofthesouls]

You know what would make the Transformers in a Who Framed Rodger Rabbit Earth even crazier?

A bot is born there but as a Toon.

No one knows how it happened but a random cartoon vehicle someone got intact Allspark energy and came to life. Pure uncanny valley feeling for both factions in my personal opinion. The toon bot can turn into vehicle but operates nowhere close to normal.

Headlights easily shift into cartoony eyes, a large mouth disguised as a front bumper, and use their tires/wheels like hands n feet. Even their Spark acts fucking weird! Ratchet would faint if cartoony eyes and a mouth suddenly popped up on a Toon Bot's spark chamber just to sass him.

Toon Spark: This better be for medical reasons Doc cause patient/doctor relationships are a big no-no.

A Toon Bot would honestly freak out the TFP iterations the most. Especially Buckethead

May I raise the stakes?

What if real-life Toons (and Earth lifeforms in general) existed because of a synchronization effect between Earth/Gaea (born from comatose Unicron) and a Primal Artifact/Allspark from Primus?

And I say this because of Benny the cab.

Benny would be very much their weird space in Uncanny Valley because you already described a lot of the things that would freak out the Cybertronians.

While Cybertronians aren't strangers to transformation sequences, they are very much rooted having at least two modes: alt-mode and root-mode.

Monoformers have much stigma against them as they, either willingly, by medical complications, or natural means, challenge the foundation of their society.

To make it even more unsettling, I propose that mechanical Toons exude spark energy but have no spark.

Sparks are a fundamental organ in Cybertronian biology. It can be physically manipulated and scientifically studied. Toons don't have that real-life and tangile certainty of a soul.

They're more aligned with Earth lifeforms. Yes, we have hearts. But we have heart transplants.

Cybertronians don't have an equivalent of that. There's a process to save a spark by removing it (and the brain module) to a new frame, but there's nothing to be done should both be guttered and destroyed.

Just imagine cyborg Toon with all the bells and whistles got crushed in a skirmish because some mech thought it was a newfound thingmabob, just for the pieces to wail out for help or flirt with Ratchet/Hoist/First Aid and the mech is having an internal mental breakdown.

"Gosh, doc, I wouldn't have taken ya to be a philosopher. Tee-hee." Que a disembodied hand twirling a stray coil from the damaged cavity. It sparks, and smoke forms little heart-shaped puffs.

Ratchet/Hoist/First Aid are holding an equally disembodied helm that inexplicably gained eyelashes to flutter optics: What the merciless Pits is going here!

"I'm more of an art Toon. Tell me, have ya heard about Remedios Varo?"

[worldofroma]

March 23 2023, Thursday - 2:24pm

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this yet but I’m a huge pot head. Yeah I’m 17, but may I remind you I’m a citizen of a small hick town in Ontario, if you don’t smoke weed you’re a fucking loser. Not that I do it for peer preasure or anything, I’m just allowed to do whatever I want. Anyways, with that, I often have intriguing questions that I’ve never heard anyone ask before. Maybe I’m wrong, but I swear I’m more creative than most people my age, or anyone else for that matter.

Hear me out on this one. It is extremely common for a fetus to absorb another fetus in the womb when theres twins or even triplets. (Maybe not extremely common but its still a thing). So with that being said, is it more likely for the people who did absorb another fetus in the womb and made it out without any issues to develop multiple personality disorder? It would honestly make so much sense if they did because they absorbed a whole nother person even if they weren’t a fully developed person yet. Would that not cause them to have some kind of split personality? Someone study that please because I need to know.

How were languages created so god damn perfectly? The fact that I’m able to type this out right now with words that perfectly capture their meaning makes absolutely no sense to me. How did they know what word worked for what? How did they call a desk a desk and a chair a chair? How did they know and meant the connection between two words in a sentence?? I don’t get it. And on top of that, how did they create other languages and translated them so it works for both? Did they sit down at a desk and discuss what word goes for each language? Don’t understand.

Why doesn’t time travel exist? Now this one will sound crazy but seriously listen to this because I can’t be the only one who thinks this. Theres times throughout the day that I’ll be looking at the clock and just wishing to god there was a way I could just skip through time and skip the boring parts. Normal, right? Well as a kid, specifically on christmas or something like that, I’d always wake up super early and for some reason I’d just assume that if I changed the time on my alarm clock, it would be that time in real life. Am I just so unbelievably stupid, or was there a reason my brain just immediately jumped to time travel? Because last time I checked, I don’t sit there thinking “damn, forgot I can’t just teleport” or “forgot I can’t shapeshift into a chair”, but I fully believed I was able to time travel… theres gotta be a scientific reason for that.

Human cloning is real. Okay, yes, this is a conspiracy theory already and I know this falls under one of the most common ones, but I have a different opinion on this. Remember Dolly the sheep? They state that they successfully managed to clone her on July 5th 1996, but they began testing that theory in 1970. You really think that after they successfully cloned a sheep after 20 years of trying that they just stopped there? Hell no. They’ve either already cloned or are still in the process of cloning a human and whats to say with all this knew technology and information that they haven’t done that already? But with that being said, I’m not saying any celebrities out there are cloned or anything like that because the process (that I know of) only works by the cloned being growing up from a cell, not the age or stage of life the thing being cloned is currently. So yes, cloning of people is definitely true just not in the way most people assume.

The saying “space is infinity, it’s constantly expanding”... bitch expanding into what? If it’s infinity, then whats beyond that it could be expanding into? You’re wrong, it’s either infinity and takes up all the space ever offered to us or it’s expanding and a certain amount of distance. It cant be both

Why do we live in a world of democracy where we have someone in charge? Who decided that we should live under the rules of one person who almost never has the qualifications to do so when we really should just be living our own lives freely? I know a lot of people will be thinking that this one is stupid but lets be real here, if you can’t or couldn;t handle living in a world where we all just live on our own peaceful, you need psychological help.

Who made up time and how do we know that they didn’t lose track of time or mistake something? Real time, months, weeks, days, years, who the hell made it up and how were they able to keep track of it for so long? Shit makes no sense.

What makes a yawn contagious? How come a sneeze isn’t contagious or the hiccups, only yawns? Even writing this now I’m yawning, but I’m not sneezing or hiccuping. Bitch.

I can’t think of anymore wild questions at the moment but I constantly have them and everyone thinks im crazy or stupid for asking them, but if its so stupid then give me the answer. God damn.

[littleapocalypsekitten]

Waxing philosophical tonight:  

Do you know something that really bothers me?  It is when people think they are smart simply for favoring a harsher option.  What I mean is, the idea that cynicism is automatically smarter than optimism, that favoring the kind thing makes you somehow more childish than favoring the cruel thing.  

This came up to my mind when reading the comments on a Youtube video exploring near death experiences and evidences for consciousness being more than what we think of it as now. It wasn't even a religious / spiritual video, it was about scientific frontiers in the study of death-process and weird brain-stuff (with the study of these matters being valuable in terms of "maybe we can help people in vegetative states").  There was some spiritual speculation to it, but the vid didn't tell anyone what to believe.  Never read the comments. I did.  People commented talking about grief for loved ones and hoping to see them someday, followed by people who said “You’ll never see them again, that’s it, suck it up.” I mean, not even just conveying their own beliefs about death, but going out of their way to be rude about it to others.  (I have a heightened sensitivity to these things right now, as I am currently grieving).  People can believe what they believe.  That's not the point.  The point is, why do people have the attitude that if they happen to believe in the "harsher" thing, it makes them somehow smarter and better? (And entitled to be needlessly rude to people)?  This made me flash back to a belief of mine a long time ago:  The “Harsher = Smarter thing” was the very reason why I believed in Hell for as long as I did. This goes beyond the “oblivion” idea. No, seriously.  Yeah, I had the evangelical Christian thing going on for a while, but as I was getting out of it, stopped going to church, started divesting myself of many dogmas, I actually kept the belief in an eternal conscious torment Hell for most of Humanity for a long time, far longer than I should have.  It wasn’t that it was just scared into me / is one of those terror-beliefs that is hard for one, particularly a person with anxiety, to shake, it’s that.. when I mulled it over, for a very long time, I had this whole philosophy about the “harshness of nature” and the “harshness of life.”  I believed that “life and nature are harsh, so why not the afterlife?” I honestly believed that because life was cruel and not particularly fair and graceful that anything that came after had to be the same way.  A very depressed, ‘we’re fucked” mentality - with the hope that I had actually done the right things to avoid it.   I had no desire to see my enemies burn or anything like that, I really just thought “existence is harsh and it makes me smarter to believe in the harsher thing.”   This was why, even after hearing Biblical arguments for universal reconciliation / Christian Universalism and the like, with very solid scholarly and historical argument for the position, it was a hard sell for me for a while just because of this dumb “I’m smart for believing hard stuff” thing.  And the idea of Hell really messed me up.  I have abandoned it, but it still messes me up. And, of course, it is arguably a lot worse than the smart smugs who pat themselves on the back for believing in complete oblivion and being rude to grieving, spiritually-hopeful people about it just because they can. At least oblivion isn’t Hell.   This happens with a lot of things, too, not even belief-matters.  Think about the people who are ambivalent toward anything that will potentially create a better world, like “why fight climate change?” and “crass capitalism will always be with us?  The world is HARD! Big fish eat little fish!”  The general idea that the world is getting worse, too.  (I think we have some setbacks, but having seen a lot of progression in society in my own lifetime, I am overall optimistic for humans generally gradually getting better at things).   I really do think we have a kind of straw-nihilism / hopelessness in society / messages that “being hard makes you smart” that is... not always productive.  I feel like calling it the Rick and Morty Effect.  It existed long before that show, though.  

[thebibliosphere]

Hi Joy! I was wondering, I know what they're not supposed to be used for, but I've never seen reliable information on what essential oils are actually meant for. What is the appropriate use of essential oils? Can't eat em or use em on skin, can't diffuse em or breathe em in really, so I'm left wondering what on earth we ARE able to do with them? Why do these things exist? Are they safe to use in showers, I'm seeing a lot of shower bomb things with essential oils lately. Thank you!

Essential oils can be used for emotional and physical well being, provided they are used correctly. Which regrettably, thanks to scam MLM (multilevel marketing, not men loving men, as some people seem to think when I type that lol) companies like d*Terra and Young L*ving they are not.

When diluted properly using carrier oils, people who are not sensitive to essential oils can use them for aromatherapy, general emotional well being (scents are stimulating, our brains like pleasant scents!) to help with stress relief, general comfort and well being and even pain relief. 

Menthol oils are used commonly in pain relief oils because they make things go tingly numb, as well as “decongestants”, which I’ve actually talked about a lot before, and why they don’t actually do what people think they do and why they are not suitable for kids under a certain age: https://tmblr.co/Zomfxx2LT76gn

You can also use them safely in like, mist steamers so long as you use them as intended, and don’t use them constantly, which is what most people do. Essential oil air misters should only be used for 20 minutes in a well-ventilated area, and never around small children or pets. I tried googling for my usual sources about why essential oils are harmful to animals, but they’ve been helpfully buried under a bunch of essential oil marketing propaganda that has paid google money to appear at the top of the search results and bury actual scientific research.

The only essential oil company I actually trust is the Tisserand Institute as they do actual scientific research into essential oil use and safety and published the  Tisserand Essential Oil Safety handbook for professionals that actually cites studies regarding injury and harm caused to small children (and adults) by essential oil misuse. Their website and products are my go-to for referring people in the UK. They also run online classes (which I did in person, back in the day) https://tisserandinstitute.org/safety-pages/

I’m not associated with them beyond having done their classes and owning some of their oils. They’re just actually an essential oil company that does their due diligence to safety and makes it abundantly clear that what harmful cults like d*Terra promote are incredibly dangerous and unethical.

And as for the bath bombs? Those things are made with carrier oils, which dilute the essential oils safely. I think the favorite oil atm is coconut oil. So this makes them safe for topical use, but it doesn’t mean a person still can’t react to it if they have sensitivities they are perhaps not aware of.

They are, essentially (heh), unregulated medicine grade oils, that should never have found their way into the hands of the general public, yet here we are. Like, for example, jasmine oil is often touted as a great relaxing oil for massages, and it is! It can also really help with menstrual cramping... but it can also lead to miscarriages if used on a pregnant person. It’s not guaranteed to cause miscarriages of course, but I also can’t help but wonder how many people who are trying to get pregnant who are using essential oils as part of that process realize they may actually be harming themselves as well... makes me really sad, actually.

And honestly, if people are going to use them like medicines, which a lot of people do, they should really be more heavily regulated. Australia has much better regulation of essential oils than we do here in the US, but that’s not saying much considering how awful it is here.  

[i-am-a-whimsy-boy]

Five. Straight. Miles. With. No. Breaks.

Nobody asked for more of me ranting about Murdoch's lack of health and safety awareness (part one here), but we're doing it anyway because I thought about this way too much and posting this gives me the illusion of that being productive. (There's a TL;DR at the end for anyone who doesn't want to read an essay today.)

Let's talk about season 1 episode 6, "Let Loose the Dogs" and how Murdoch put George in a situation where he could have very easily injured or even killed himself and Murdoch did not consider the danger here at all.

In this episode, Murdoch needs to figure out if it's possible to run from a pub to the scene of the murder in nine minutes, and, in order to do this, he gets George to make the run five times in a row and averages the time. We know it's an eighteen minute walk to the crime scene from the pub, meaning it's roughly a mile, and George runs this five times. What I'm saying is, Murdoch essentially made George run five miles straight all in one go.

In fairness, this might not be crazy intense for an in-shape person, but I have the athletic ability of a doorknob, so this seems absolutely terrible to me in the most ideal of circumstances, which, I don't believe George was running in. Regardless, if we assume his average time is around nine minutes, then he was running for somewhere around 45-50 minutes straight, likely pushing himself to run faster in order to get a faster time or to impress Murdoch. If his endurance isn't above par, that's quite a lot of prolonged physical activity, even if he was drinking water and taking breaks, which he probably wasn't.

This is a bit of speculation on my part, but since we don't see a water jug anywhere with Murdoch, I'm willing to bet that George wasn't drinking water at all during his runs. Without water, your body can't make sweat to cool you down and release some of the heat produced when you exercise. I'm sure we all know this, but it's vital to stay hydrated, especially when you're going to be exerting yourself. More speculation, but Murdoch definitely values efficiency, so I'm assuming he made George run from the pub to the bridge and back and counted that round trip as two separate runs, thereby cutting out the time needed to walk back and start again. We only see the tail end of George's final run, ending at the bridge, so we don't know if Murdoch gave him any breaks, but knowing Murdoch, he probably kept break time to a minimum, if he thought about getting George to take breaks at all.

Resting when you're exercising or otherwise exerting yourself is important to avoid injury and to allow your body to cool down, especially in hot weather. Season 1 of Murdoch Mysteries takes place during 1895, and judging by the weather in the episode, it's during early to mid summer. I'm going to say early July. The Government of Canada has historical weather data available going back to the 1840s, and in July of 1895, the average temperature in Toronto was around 19° C, with a high average of 24° C and an extreme high of 32° C (source). Temperatures also averaged in the higher range in the first week of the month (the 4th through to the 8th had highs of around 30° C with almost no rain, and that extreme monthly high of 32° C happened during this week). Caution is recommended in 25° C weather to avoid heat exhaustion and heatstroke. 30° C and above is considered dangerous. George was sprinting five straight miles with no water and no breaks: definitely not exercising caution. In heat like that, especially with no breaks or water, it wouldn't be very hard to contract heat exhaustion or exertional heat stroke, both of which can be very dangerous, and the latter can even be fatal. Exertional heat stroke happens when your body produces more heat than it can lose because of overexertion or high temperatures, and the high core body temperatures it causes can very quickly start damaging organs, including the brain and the heart. It's a medical emergency. Since George is constantly moving and producing heat and he has no water for his body to make sweat with, he's practically begging for heat stroke.

This whole thing seems incredibly dangerous to me and I'm honestly surprised the poor guy didn't collapse.

I really want to know what Murdoch would have done if he was sitting there on the bridge waiting for George to finish his run and George just didn't come because he passed out somewhere over the course of the run. Murdoch didn't have anything with him other than a pocket watch, a notepad and a pencil. Best case scenario, he could have submerged George in the creek that the bridge went over in order to cool him off, but if he had collapsed earlier in the route, he wouldn't have any realistic cooling methods available other than, like, fanning with his hands or that notebook he had, which would have been much less effective than water. A person can survive with a core temperature of around 40° C for about thirty minutes before serious organ damage starts setting in. I'm not convinced Murdoch could have cooled George down fast enough to avoid that. If George had gotten heat stroke, I'm willing to bet that he'd probably have died.

Even if George didn't get heat stroke, he still could have gotten really painful muscle cramps or gotten hurt in other ways. I was in a lifeguard training once and I wasn't super well hydrated and I got a leg cramp bad enough that I couldn't walk, let alone swim. I was having problems with my leg for days afterward. George could have gotten a similar cramp, and, if one had struck while he was running, the resulting fall could have injured him further, especially since he was running through the woods. Who knows what he might have hit his head on had he fallen?

I realize that, if George had said to Murdoch, "sir, I need a break," Murdoch would definitely have let him take one, but George isn't very good at advocating for himself. He tends to do what he's told and not question it or ask for anything different. George just takes things in his stride, even when he gets the short end of the stick, and I don't think he would have asked for a break if he needed one. Regardless, George shouldn't have had to have asked because Murdoch should have planned for breaks. It shouldn't be a surprise to Murdoch that people need breaks when they're exerting themselves.

The most annoying thing is that Murdoch compensated George's running times for exhaustion, meaning that he knew George would get tired and he knew he had to tweak the calculations in order to get an even average. You know what would have made Murdoch's averaging even better, and would have eliminated the need to compensate at all? Having a larger goshdarn sample size. If Murdoch had gotten multiple constables to make the run and averaged all of theirs, he'd have gotten a more even and realistic average and he wouldn't have had to take exhaustion into account. There's a reason most scientific studies are based on a sample of the population and not case studies of single individuals: because it's better and it represents the population as a whole better. I bet Murdoch could have rounded up five constables and made them run a mile with no trouble at all. Some of them would probably have enjoyed it! But no, for some reason, he has to torture George instead.

It's like Murdoch is unaware there are literally dozens of other constables at Station House Four at his disposal.

TL;DR: Murdoch made George run five straight miles with no breaks in hot, summer weather when he could have gotten better results with more constables; George could have gotten seriously ill, hurt or killed; and I am questioning my sanity.

[thepiningpoet]

The Pining Poet presents a Periodical Pother:

Allow me to fulminate for a moment, please.

My thoughts on the recent J.K. Rowling hate: When a complex topic is confusing to you, it's perfectly understandable to have questions...not that trans folk are obligated to answer them. But if they do offer to answer your questions (which may be perceived as invasive by some, understandably) then pay them the courtesy of at least listening. I don't believe Rowling has done this but has insisted on keeping a belligerent stance in all regards on the issue.

When there is something beyond my understanding I've chosen just to shut the hell up. I've learned that early on. It's served me well so far. Other than that, gain more understanding through scientific findings (and I mean scientific journal articles, studies, and published statistical findings by reputable scientific associations and those who actively work in scientific fields) plus listening to the opinions of those in the trans community to gain more understanding and, yes, empathy. No one wants to feel foreign or strange in their own body, so although I may not fully grasp everything involving trans' mindsets, I do understand the idea of wanting to be seen and heard in a way that feels authentic to oneself as long as no one is using their platform to devalue others in their own fight for equality and recognition.

"When a complex topic is confusing to you, it's perfectly understandable to have questions...not that trans folk are obligated to answer them. But if they do offer to answer your questions (which may be perceived as invasive by some, understandably) then pay them the courtesy of at least listening."

For example, many people still perceive the term "gender" and "biological sex" to be the same thing, so be wary of "gender is how you think/I wanted my body to match my brain" arguments which belittle already marginalized groups like me who proudly associate themselves with their original biological sex but often don't mentally operate in a way that society deems as "typical of a woman". Reviewing this, plus having another argument with an embarrassingly uninformed individual using the "there are only two genders argument"... it only pushes a point that's been increasingly on my mind: we should just eliminate the idea of gender. It serves no one anymore and actually...it never did. All the idea of gender has done throughout the ages is oppress, immure, limit us despite our natures and cause mental turmoil for the populous in terms of finding their own unique identity. What is it about this point that scares people really? Is it truly the fear that someone will get raped in a public restroom? If it is, they needn't look to the past to see that many countries have had mixed bathrooms before. Much of Scandinavia still does and I assure you, I've never felt safer. Is it the fear that you'll have sexual/romantic feelings with someone you didn't "intend" to?

"When there is something beyond my understanding I've chosen just to shut the hell up... It's served me well so far."

Well, here's a novel idea: Why not allow yourself to fall in love with whoever you end up falling in love with? Would that honestly be the most horrendous of crimes? And those worth knowing and loving will be honest with you about their history so that BOTH of you can plan a realistic future, whether together or apart. So, what is there to fear other than your own freedom and potential happiness? Maybe your only authentic fear is in discovering who you truly are. #foodforthought

Sincerely and most happily yours,

The Pining Poet 🥀🌹

P.S.

Psychology 101:

"Cherophobia is a phobia where a person has an irrational aversion to being happy. The term comes from the Greek word “chero,” which means “to rejoice.” When a person experiences cherophobia, they're often afraid to participate in activities that many would characterize as fun, or of being happy." - Rachel Nall

[villlainarc]

All of These Stars (Will Guide Us Home)

Summary: Logan had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

His guardian angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those two were indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

In which Logan finds himself stuck with a guardian angel and a strange feeling blossoming between them.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: brief mention of not eating (though it isn’t intentional), swearing, it gets real sad before it gets happy again

Word Count: 11,504

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive

Notes: for the sanders sides reverse bang, run by @sanderssidesfanfiction. as per the rules of the reverse bang, the art this is inspired by was done by none other than @2queer2deer and is here

and finally, many thanks to ren for offering to beta this after it got too long for me to catch everything myself and my brain gave up on me fjskskd

ao3

_________________________

Logan was a neuroscientist. He knew that a fight or flight response was triggered when the human brain was overwhelmed and stressed. He knew exactly how it dealt with information and that if need be, it would formulate more believable scenarios when the current one couldn’t be processed. He knew that when it came to sleep deprivation, intense hallucinations would only start after a full seventy-two hours of no sleep.

Logan was not overwhelmed. Logan’s mind had always processed things in the way it should have, and he was not prone to coming up with scenarios that had never happened. While it wasn’t as much sleep as would have been ideal—seeing as he had been consistently sleep deprived for the past week—Logan had still slept for a full seven and a half hours last night.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why there appeared to be an angel in the middle of his lab.

“Ah,” the angel said, turning around, completely oblivious to the fact that it (he?) was not supposed to exist. “You must be Logan.”

So. The angel knew his name. Logan found himself nodding blankly in response, trying to think up some sort of explanation for why there would be a fucking angel in his lab.

“Nice to meet you then, Logan. How are you?” the angel asked, still clueless about how utterly impossible its (his?) being here was. He (Logan had decided somewhere in the back of his mind that calling something humanoid “it” felt distinctly wrong) lifted himself onto one of the stainless steel tables littered about the lab, swinging his feet as he continued talking. “I’m Roman,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Logan blinked. The angel—or Roman, as Logan supposed he should refer to him—was sitting on his lab table, and that’s about all Logan’s mind could process at the moment. Acting on the one thing that made sense to him, Logan took a step forward. “Get off my lab table.” After taking a breath and making a very conscious effort not to scream, he tacked on a clipped, “Please.”

“Oh! Sorry, yes. I’ll do that.” Roman pushed himself smoothly off the lab table, landing on the ground with barely a sound.

“Right,” Logan said under his breath. “Right,” he repeated, this time directed more at Roman than himself. “I’m going to have to wipe that down, and then you’re going to tell me exactly why you’re here, how you know who I am, whether or not you’re actually an angel, how your wings work, and then you’re going to get the fuck out of my lab.” With that, Logan felt perfectly secure in grabbing a clean cloth and a spray bottle of bleach before walking back to the offending lab table and wiping it down thoroughly.

“I think you’re going to have to repeat all those questions for me, one at a time, and at a far slower pace,” Roman said, hovering in the background once Logan had begun cleaning. “I caught exactly none of it.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “I apologize, I was rambling a bit. Give me one moment and I’ll be right with you.” With a final swipe of the cloth, Logan put away the cleaning supplies and pulled a notepad out of his lab coat. “Now,” he said, scrawling something across the page as he sat down, “please, have a seat in this chair right across from me and then answer this to start: why are you here?”

“Why, for you, of course! I’m your guardian angel, Logan, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

That raised a fair few more questions than it answered, but Logan wasn’t going to think too hard on that just yet. He finished noting what Roman had said and then moved on to his next question. “I had asked you how you knew who I was, but I think that question just answered itself, so I’m going to skip it.” Logan tapped his pen against the notepad for a moment, recalling what he’d said next. “Ah, and then I asked if you were actually an angel, which, again, I feel has been sufficiently explained. Now then, how do your wings work?”

“Like any wings would work, I suppose,” Roman said, ruffling his feathers a bit as he stretched them out to their full width. Logan winced as a few feathers fell to the floor, making a mental note to sweep them up as soon as he could. “I flap them, and they help me fly. What else would you like to know about them?”

“Hm, they do protrude from your back, correct? And you were born with them?”

“Yes, and yes, I— where are you going?” Logan had gotten up from his chair while Roman had been in the middle of speaking, poking about his lab for something.

“Just getting a pair of gloves. Please, don’t mind me. You can continue.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright. I was pretty much done. But may I ask why you’re looking for gloves?”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a quick nod. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed before going to get them, but… would you mind if I touched your wings? I’m curious as to how they feel.”

“Absolutely! Be my guest.”

“Thank you. Could I ask you a few more questions while I work?”

“Ask away, darling.”

“In that case—” Logan pulled the gloves over his hands with a snap, walking up behind Roman, “—I hope this isn’t too forward or uncouth, but what exactly does it mean to be an angel? On Earth, we have a multitude of myths and ideas about what they are, how they act, where they come from, what they do, and so on. What’s the truth?”

“Hm, I can’t really answer that. Since you’re a mortal, there are certain things I’m simply not allowed to tell you. But! I can say that every culture got at least a few aspects right. Every story holds a grain of truth, and the stories of angels are no different.” Roman paused, and Logan heard the first few hints of a frown enter his voice. “What are you doing back there, anyway? It tickles.”

“Me? Oh, I’m just looking for muscles or bones, I suppose, though anything interesting would do. I’m not sure. Do you happen to know what your wings are made of?”

“Um. Muscle, probably? And bone and feathers? I’m not sure, honestly. It’s not something that’s of particular importance, you know?”

“I see,” Logan said, still running his hands through Roman’s feathers. “They appear to be almost identical to bird wings, did you know that?”

“…No? Is that a good thing?”

“It means they were specifically designed for flight, likely longer flights as well. They’re more similar in structure to the wings of a bird of prey, though I suppose that would make sense, especially considering that the rest of you is humanoid and we too are a predatory species. So yes,” Logan concluded, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’d say that is a good thing.”

Roman turned his head slightly, watching Logan pull off his gloves and put them carefully in a waste container with a curious look in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad.”

“Do you mind if I take a few of your feathers to study them?” Upon seeing Roman bristle a little at the thought, Logan added swiftly, “I was only referring to the ones that have fallen to the floor, I wouldn’t take them directly from your wings, not to worry.”

“I don’t see why not, then. You didn’t have to ask, you know.”

Logan shrugged. “It’s always better to ask about everything when working with human—or humanoid, in your case—test subjects.”

“Hm,” Roman replied, cocking his head to the side as Logan lifted a few feathers from the ground with a pair of tweezers before carefully sealing them in a plastic bag.

Once he’d done that though, Logan’s scientific curiosity immediately waned, leaving only a looming sense of panic because, as he’d somehow managed to forget, there was a fucking angel in his science lab and absolutely no protocol for handling such a situation. “I need to sit down,” he decided aloud.

“Good idea,” Roman hummed, getting out of his own chair and making his way around the lab. “This is where you work, huh?”

“Yes. Don’t touch a thing.” Logan’s words were purely instinctual, any rational thought he may have had vanishing rapidly.

“Noted,” Roman replied, making a show of folding his hands behind his back before peering into a microscope. “You’re a neuroscientist, right?”

“Shouldn’t you already know that? Being my ‘guardian angel’ and all,” Logan said, and he would have put finger quotes around the words “guardian angel” if his hands were not currently occupied with holding his head between them. Logically, Logan knew his sarcasm and disbelief stemmed from the fact that he was currently falling into denial but emotionally, Logan was very far from ready to acknowledge the fact that angels just might exist—no, scratch that—that they did exist.

“Oh, of course I knew that. I’m merely trying to make small talk. You seem a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“This ‘small talk’ is only serving to make me more overwhelmed.”

“Ah. Would you prefer if I got straight to the core of your psychological issues and the reason you’ve been deemed worthy of being assigned a guardian angel?”

“…I’m going to have to say no to that. What would really help is you shutting the fuck up so I can think straight.”

“Jeez, I knew you weren’t good at making friends, but I didn’t—”

“So sorry, did you not hear when I asked for complete silence?”

“Right, right. Got it. Shutting up now.”

Logan let out a sigh at that, letting his head drop once more into his hands.

He had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

The angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those were just indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant that he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

Having come to a decision, he lifted his head from his hands. “You need to get out. Now.”

Roman blinked at him from his place behind a different microscope than the one he’d been near before. “I— what? Why?”

“I don’t need—nor do I want a guardian angel, so I’m asking you to leave. That’s all, I can assure you it’s not personal.”

“Logan, darling, I’m frankly offended that you would imply that I would just abandon you like that! Besides, I’m tied to you until further notice. I couldn’t leave you behind even if I wanted to—which, for the record, I don’t now and won’t ever.”

“Yes, well— figure something out. I am not entertaining this any longer. I apologize for the inconvenience, but you are of no use to me. Thank whoever’s in charge for thinking of me, and goodbye, Roman. It was nice meeting you.”

“…So, what do you not understand about the fact that I cannot physically leave? Because I thought that was pretty clear, but if you need me to, I can explain again.”

“I understood you perfectly fine,” Logan said, standing up and taking an unintentionally menacing step towards Roman. “I simply don’t care. I’d thank you kindly for leaving me alone. I don’t need your help.”

“Was that an invitation for me to list all the ways you do, in fact, need my help?”

“No, it really wasn’t, it was actually a very explicit invitation to leave me alone and get the fu—”

“So! First of all, you’re lonely.”

“That’s just wrong, plain and simple. I have Patton and I have Virgil, not to mention my family and—”

“Very true, but if you try to tell me they truly understand you, you’d be lying, no?”

Logan had nothing to say to that.

“Exactly. Secondly, your ambition and curiosity are the only things you’re living for. You have no proper sense of self and no confidence in who you are as a person.”

“I—”

“No, no, I’m not done yet. Thirdly, you still haven’t moved past the fact that your aspirations and curiosities have always been mocked and still don’t feel that you can speak your mind freely because you fear you’ll be belittled for your interests.”

“I think that’s more than enough, I get the idea—”

“And finally,” Roman said a bit louder, talking over Logan’s objections, “in your drive to prove the people from your past wrong, you’ve lost all trust in those closest to you. Not only are you lonely now, you still insist on keeping everyone at a distance so you will forever be lonely.”

Logan was silent.

“So, how did I do? Was I right?”

“Perhaps a few things you said were somewhat accurate, but that in no way means I need your help. Because I don’t.”

“Mm, my boss begs to differ, and so do I. Besides, you really don’t have a say in this. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Roman didn’t seem very troubled with this information, sending Logan a sparkling grin followed quickly by a wink.

“Well then. Let’s just say you do end up staying around. What exactly do you plan on doing that any good therapist couldn’t?”

“Well, for starters, I’m an angel, Logan. My angelic nature is a healing force all on its own. Secondly, a therapist couldn’t provide you with love now, could they? They wouldn’t be able to help you feel less lonely by being your friend, huh?”

“I don’t need—”

“You don’t need friends? Everyone needs friends, Logan. It’s human nature, I’m sure you know that.”

Logan sighed, running a hand absently through his hair. “Let’s say I ignore you. Would you eventually leave me alone?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright then, let’s just pretend I do accept your existence in my life. How am I supposed to explain who you are?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. I can handle the explanations, that was all a part of my training.”

“How comforting. Now, what happens if I’m never deemed ‘fixed?’ Do you just have to live with me until I die? Does that mean you’ve failed?”

“Okay, so let’s get one thing straight—”

“I don’t think you can do that. I’m gay.”

“Oh, I know, it’s just a figure of speech, but anyway, that wasn’t even the point. What I was going to say is that you aren’t being ‘fixed.’ You don’t need to be fixed, you need love and support. So I’m not here to fix you, I’m here to help you, and I won’t fail in that, Logan.”

“That’s a sweet sentiment I suppose, but that doesn’t eliminate the possibility of failure by any means.”

“Well then, it seems we have an opportunity here, now don’t we?”

“Do I want to know what that entails?”

“Quite possibly not, but you also don’t have a choice. Either way though, you need to learn how to trust people, right? Here’s your first chance. Trust that I won’t fail you, because that’s all you can really do in this case.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm, I don’t think that sounded much like you trusting me, somehow. Let’s try that again: I won’t fail you, Logan. Trust me.”

“I… will ignore the possibility that you might fail.”

Roman snorted. “That’s closer, at least. You’ll get there someday.”

“Well,” Logan said, clearing his throat. “Would you mind getting out of my lab while I work, at least? I’m afraid I won’t be able to concentrate with someone else in the room.”

“Even if that someone’s fabulously charming and winningly handsome?”

“I’m afraid so, and I’m so very sorry about that,” Logan said, not sounding very sorry at all.

“You don’t sound very sorry at all,” Roman pouted.

“Yes, well, I am and I’ve wasted enough time entertaining you. So if you don’t mind, I have work to do now.”

“Ooo, what are you doing toda—”

“No, nope, absolutely not, get out.” He herded Roman out the door, slamming it once he’d made it through. Leaning his head against it with a sigh, Logan made a futile attempt to collect his thoughts, knowing instinctively that no matter how hard he tried, he would be getting absolutely nothing of worth done today.

_________________________

For the next several weeks, Logan was constantly plagued by Roman’s continued existence.

The angel refused to leave him alone for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and Logan was certain he was going absolutely insane because of it. No matter how many locked doors he hid behind, Roman always managed to find a way through. Logan hypothesized that it was magic, but Roman vehemently denied that when asked.

“Me? Use magic? Why, of course not! It’s not allowed when I’m on Earth because I’m supposed to be ‘blending in,’ and I would never break a rule as important as that. I’m shocked and appalled that you’d accuse me of such a thing, my darling Logan.”

Logan didn’t believe that absolute bullshit for a second, but he could never prove anything to the contrary, even though he did spend nearly every waking moment with Roman. Even if he could never get Roman to stop talking. Even if he was overwhelmed with the constant onslaught of Roman Roman Roman—

At that point, Logan couldn’t remember what he had been trying to find out in the first place. As he spent more time around Roman’s constant chatter, he could feel himself physically losing brain cells; it was getting harder to think, harder to move, harder to calm his head, his heart, his breaths.

It was possible that he should have mentioned this to Roman, but Logan didn’t want to tell the angel any more than necessary, even though doing so would mean that he would leave him behind sooner. That wasn’t worth the vulnerability he would be showing, nothing was.

So he just had to… survive.

He could survive; he’d done so all his life, clearly. There was no reason at all for him to stop now.

Besides, he had a few hours of Roman-free time while he was at work, and that was enough to let him breathe properly. Though it was gradually becoming harder for him to concentrate long enough to find the correct train of thought to follow, his time spent at work as a neuroscientist was still far superior to any time spent around Roman.

At least, it had been before today. Because today, everything—everything—was going wrong.

First, it was his alarm being set to the wrong sound. Instead of waking him up with its usual serene tones that gradually increased in volume, it emitted a jarring series of beeps that physically hurt Logan when he heard them.

Then, it was his coffee being too cold, then too sweet, then being spilled over his counter. It hadn’t all been lost, but what was left in the thermos wasn’t enough to placate Logan as the right amount would have on any other day.

After the spilled coffee came the pout Roman gave him after he’d snapped at him for humming too loudly. After the pout came the imploring request to pretty please tell Roman what was wrong, after the request came another bout of waspish remarks, after the waspish remarks came another pout, and after the pout, Logan simply left.

Once he arrived at work, Logan was certain that his day was going to get better. It could only go up from the pit he’d fallen into, right?

Wrong. Logan’s day could—and would—get so much worse.

The first thing to go wrong at work was seeing his messy lab. He’d been tired when he’d left last night, leaving the clean up to his future self. This was proving to have been a terrible idea.

Cringing at the equipment strewn all over, Logan locked his bag away in a locker on the left wall and got to work cleaning.

That, at least, was calming.

What was decidedly not calming was having one of his coworkers burst through the door without so much as a knock. This was the second thing to go wrong after Logan had arrived at work, and the following conversation was the third.

“You aren’t busy, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I—”

“Doesn’t matter. We need you to check out these scans right about… oh, now, but no pressure of course. I’ll be in room 312 whenever you’re done,” the man—whose name Logan couldn’t seem to remember for the life of him—interrupted with a tight smile. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought, strolling out of the lab without even having the decency to close the door behind him.

The fourth thing to go wrong was the fact that Logan had to actually concentrate on doing something while there was still clutter all over the room, but he did manage to do so with only mild suffering.

Logan had just begun to grow hungry when the realization of the fifth thing to go wrong dawned on him. He’d forgotten to pack his lunch.

Fuck.

This wasn’t catastrophic, of course. He could always go somewhere to buy lunch, but it was while Logan was searching for his wallet that he remembered leaving it on the counter at home. While Logan would by no means starve without lunch, not having food to sustain him for the rest of the day would not bode well for anyone who needed to speak with him.

That was the sixth thing that went wrong.

The seventh thing to go wrong was Logan’s lightheadedness, a sudden reminder that he hadn’t had breakfast either, so consumed had he been with the spilled coffee and argument with Roman. This left him with two awful options. He could either wait until he got home to eat (which would have countless adverse effects on his physical health) or he could ask to borrow money from someone he worked with (which would have countless adverse effects on his mental health). There really was no winning for him.

But having to deal with the discomfort of asking for money seemed to Logan a lesser evil at that point than having to wait for several more hours before he’d be able to alleviate the gnawing pain in his stomach.

This was the eighth thing to go wrong, the ninth being the fact that the sandwich he’d been lent had been slathered with mayo and gone soggy because of it.

Logan’s day seemed to be looking up after lunch, though, as he had finally managed to finish cleaning up his lab by that point and was able to continue research into a different patient’s condition at a more leisurely pace than he’d had to think at that morning.

There was still so much that could go wrong, though, and it all did.

The tenth thing was a conversation with a coworker that stretched on for a small eternity, the eleventh a series of three brand new things he had to do at “his earliest convenience,” the twelfth a glass beaker that Logan had dropped shattering to pieces on the floor.

Logan left after he’d cleaned up that mess, not wanting to get to the thirteenth bad thing because although he was far from superstitious, the fact that he now knew angels existed was fucking with his mind in that regard.

Once he got home, he restarted the count of things that went wrong solely for his own sanity. Reaching a count of unfortunate incidents that was any higher than twenty things would make him want to scream, so when he saw Roman waiting for him on the couch as soon as he walked through the doorway, he considered that the first terrible thing to happen once he’d gotten home as opposed to the twenty-first terrible thing that had happened in total.

The second thing was the discovery that Roman had raided his refrigerator earlier that day and eaten the lunch he’d made for himself, the third that he found his house to be entirely void of Crofters jam. The fourth was the fact that peanut butter eaten alone made his mouth feel thick and dry, the fifth Roman’s proclamation that he’d told Logan so.

The sixth thing to go wrong once Logan got home was the fact that Roman would simply not stop singing, even after he’d mentioned that he was going to take a nap because it had been a long day so could he please be quiet for just thirty minutes? That was all he wanted, thirty blissful minutes of peace and quiet.

He didn’t even get five.

That was alright though, he decided, because he could read and block out any noise that happened to drift his way, obnoxious singing included.

The seventh tragedy occurred when Logan finished his book and had to return once again to reality and the angel that came with it. It was getting dark, and Logan should have gone to the kitchen to get food at that point. He hadn’t eaten much at all today, but going to the kitchen also meant having to deal with Roman and his loud voice and prying questions and— nope. Logan didn’t have enough mental energy left to handle that.

So instead, he decided to do what he always did when his problems proved to be too much for him. He ran away from them.

Specifically, he ran away to a field of wildflowers in the middle of nowhere with the most perfect view of the stars he’d ever seen.

While that was still running away, Logan tended to ignore that in favor of admiring the night sky.

Now, all he had to do was get out of the house without running into Roman. He would want to know where Logan was going and then he’d have to explain and then Roman would want to come with him and that could only end with Logan becoming even more frustrated with the world, so he opted to leave through his window.

He’d never tried to do that before, so he was pleasantly surprised when he made it out with only a slight stumble. Without the walls of his house closing in on him, Logan noted that he felt more at ease than he had all day. The night air also helped to calm him, and his entire demeanor had relaxed by the time he reached his field of wildflowers.

Letting out a sigh, Logan felt any remaining tension melt away as he sat down beneath the leaves of a willow tree. He leaned his head back against its trunk and allowed himself to simply trace the constellations above him with his eyes.

When he’d been far younger, more naive, and less concerned with making enough money to live comfortably, Logan had seriously considered becoming an astronomer. He’d also toyed with the thought of being an astrophysicist, but the idea of having to work with concepts that weren’t concrete or truly proven made him feel slightly panicked and had turned him off from that completely. Still though, he’d always found anything to do with planets, galaxies, stars, and anything in between to be utterly fascinating. He could have spent hours in the library reading about astronomers and their discoveries from centuries past, and while Logan wouldn’t ever be one to work solely in theoreticals, learning about those theories was almost more fascinating than the facts themselves. No matter what else was going on in his life at the time, he had always been able to turn to the stars in some form or another as a calming presence. They were the one constant that hadn’t managed to fade from his life, and Logan was incredibly grateful for it. He didn’t even want to think about a life lived without the stars for company.

That’s why this field of wildflowers meant so much to him; it wasn’t the place itself as much as it was what it allowed him to see. His surroundings were undoubtedly beautiful, but they paled in comparison to the sky above. And, sitting beneath the willow tree and looking up, up, up, Logan was perfectly content.

He would have stayed that way too were it not for the arrival of one The Blessed Roman, guardian angel.

“Logan? What are you doing all the way out here?”

Sighing, Logan avoided the question. “Did you follow me?”

“No! Well, kind of. That depends on what you mean by following. No, I didn’t see you leave and then decide to leave then as well. But yes, I did notice that you were being awfully quiet and decide to check on you before discovering that you were gone before using the bond between us to guide me here.”

“Wonderful, so I can never escape you.”

“No, you really can’t, I’m afraid.” Roman walked the rest of the way to the trunk of the willow tree, sitting down beside Logan and pressing his back up against it as well. “Now, why are you here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to talk to you. In fact, I would much prefer to be left alone.”

“Ah, you’re shutting down again. You don’t want to be vulnerable, so you’re pushing me away when I try to get you to open up. You definitely shouldn’t do that, especially considering that no matter how vulnerable you are, I am physically not able to hurt you in any way, shape, or form. I promise you can trust me.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Oh, that’s fine too! You can talk about anything, but please, Logan, just talk to me.”

“I— why?”

Roman shrugged. “Talking helps, sometimes. Just to have someone who’ll listen to you, you know?”

“I’ll try it, I suppose. But if I ask you to leave me alone again, please do so.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Alright. So.” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to continue. He looked up at the stars again, and his eyes lit up with the sudden brilliance of an idea. “Look at the sky, and see that star over there? The really bright one?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Its name is Rasalhague, which is derived from the Arabic phrase meaning ‘the head of the serpent collector.’ And since it’s the brightest star in the constellation Ophiuchus—a constellation depicting a man often believed to be the Greek god of medicine, Asclepius, with a serpent in his hands—the name is rather fitting. And the bright star below it? That’s Sabik. Its name also comes from Arabic, meaning ‘the preceding one,’ though this time there’s no fitting explanation as to why. If you connect those two stars with twenty-five others, the brightest ones being there, there, there, here, there, and there—” Logan pointed at a new star in the constellation with each word he spoke, “—then you have the full Ophiuchus constellation. And if you look just to the left of Sabik, you can see Serpens Cauda, which is the tail of the serpent Asclepius is holding. Now, below and slightly to the right of Rasalhague is Serpens Caput, the other half of the full Serpens constellation. If you translate their names from Latin, they mean exactly what they are supposed to depict: ‘snake tail’ and ‘snake head,’ respectively.”

“Oh! I remember those! If I’m not mistaken, I helped to create them.”

At that, Logan’s gaze snapped back down to Earth. “You did what?” he asked, voice breathy with awe.

“I’m an angel, Logan, of course I helped with the creation of the universe! I made quite a few stars, actually. I think you humans call the constellations they make up Corona Borealis and Corona Australis? The northern and southern crowns? There are a few others that don’t remember the names of, but if you look over there—” at this, Roman took Logan’s hand in his and moved it in a circle around a spot in the sky a little bit to the left of Ophiuchus and Serpens, “—that’s where most of my stars are.”

Breathless, Logan went quiet for a few moments, trying to remember which constellation those stars made up, if any. Then, without warning, he gasped. “Oh! Oh, your stars are near Microscopium and Telescopium, two of the six constellations Lacaille discovered and named after scientific instruments and navigational tools, all first documented in 1756. Lacaille was a French astronomer who also christened a fair amount of other modern constellations the same year, but my favorites are those six: Microscopium and Telescopium, of course, and Fornax, which is the chemist’s distillation furnace, Octans, the octant, Pyxis, the compass, and Circinus, the dividing compasses. You can’t see all of them right now since they’re in different places throughout the sky and some of them aren’t as bright nor as recognizable as, say, Ursa Major and Minor or Orion’s Belt, so even then they would be more difficult to see, but—” Logan stopped, seeming to catch himself. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear about all that.”

“No!” The intensity in Roman’s voice caused Logan to turn towards him in confusion, a slight frown on his face. “I mean, of course I want to continue to hear you talk about constellations, so no, please don’t stop talking, please never assume I won’t want to hear what you have to say. It’s interesting, and I like hearing the joy in your voice.”

“Ah,” Logan said, his face coloring lightly. He cleared his throat again before continuing in a softer voice, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. When you talk about stars or space or science or honestly, anything that makes you smile, it’s—no, you—are beautiful.”

“I’m just… lecturing, really, and there’s nothing special about that.” Logan rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Besides, you were the one who created the stars I was telling you about. Compared to that, I didn’t do anything at all.”

“On the contrary, I think your knowledge is far more than a simple ‘anything.’ When I formed those stars out of light and space dust, I never could have imagined them inspiring a smile—or anything else, for that matter—so gorgeous.”

Logan wanted to ask how Roman could have possibly believed that stars, some of the most beautiful creations in existence, wouldn’t result in something just as pretty.

Logan also wanted to completely ignore the fact that Roman thought the resulting pretty thing was his smile, fearing how flustered he’d become if Roman so much as alluded to that statement again. Eventually though, he settled on a response that didn’t encapsulate even half as much as he was feeling. “Thank you for creating them,” he said.

“If they’ve brought you even a fraction of the amount of happiness as they seem to have, it all will have been worth it.”

Logan felt himself blushing again, but he chose to pretend that his face was not a brilliant shade of red. “Yes, well—” he trailed off, finding himself unable to think of the right words to say.

Roman laughed, lightly setting his hand over Logan’s to pat it in a show of fond affection. “You’re adorable.” He grinned once more, shifting his grip so he was holding Logan’s hand properly before moving on to an entirely new subject. “Anyhow, are you feeling any better?”

“Actually? I think I am,” Logan said, making a valiant attempt to convince himself that his improved mood had nothing to do with the fact that Roman was so casually holding his hand.

“Soo… are you saying that I was right?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I would never.” Roman laughed again, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound. “But thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know it is, but… it’s nice to have someone pretend to care anyway.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. I promise you, Logan, I will never pretend with you.”

“Oh.” There was an odd sort of warmth in Logan’s chest, and he wanted to hold onto the memory of it for the rest of his life. As he drowned in that wonderful feeling, he felt the rest of his day fade into nothing, completely insignificant in this current moment of peace. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“You’re welcome,” Roman replied, but it sounded like he meant something else too, something hidden just beneath his spoken words that Logan couldn’t quite pick up on.

With a soft sigh, Logan leaned closer and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. “You know,” he began, “I should apologize for the way I treated you earlier today. It was uncalled for, and you didn’t deserve it. I took out my feelings on you when you didn’t really do anything but sing too loudly—which, to be fair, can be incredibly annoying, but I digress—so I’m sorry.”

“Um,” Roman said in a way that was very nearly a squeak as he looked down at Logan. “Thanks.” He swallowed, and his voice returned to normal when he spoke again. “Now that you mention it though, I should probably do less of that when you’re around. I didn’t realize it bothered you as much as it did, so I too apologize.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “And I’ll do my best to remind you in a less snappish way whenever it gets on my nerves.”

“That would be nice, yes,” Roman agreed, returning Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “Now, I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I am truly glad I got to talk to you tonight. I know it may not seem like a lot, but it’s a better start than I would have ever hoped for you. Forgive me if this sounds odd, but I’m incredibly proud of you for that.”

“You’re very pushy, it was going to happen eventually.” Logan let out a small laugh at Roman’s answering noise of offense before clarifying, “And it’s nice to talk to you. I like having someone who’ll listen to me.”

“More people should listen to you. You’re fascinating, Logan.”

Logan felt his face heat up and his heart flutter yet again. “I— hngk.” he turned to bury his face in Roman’s shoulder. “You aren’t so bad yourself, I suppose,” he replied eventually, once his face had cooled down just a bit and his heart had slowed to a slightly more normal pace.

Roman hummed his agreement, placing a light kiss on the top of Logan’s head—which, for the record, completely nullified any progress Logan’s face and heart had made in calming themselves—before saying, “It’s getting rather late, and you’ve had a long day. We should go home.”

“Hm, we should,” Logan agreed, making no effort to move.

Roman sighed. “If you want, I could carry you.”

“What?!” Unlike Roman’s almost-squeak, Logan’s was far more obvious. “No, no, that’s alright, there’s no need for you to carry me. It’s fine, it’s all fine,” he said, standing suddenly and brushing nonexistent dirt off his clothes.

“Let us be off then!” Roman declared, kindly ignoring Logan’s flustered state and offering out his arm with a flourish.

Logan placed his hand in the crook of it, a smile that didn’t read at all as love-struck back on his face. “What a perfect gentleman.”

_________________________

After their conversation beneath the willow tree, Logan’s days passed much more peacefully. Roman wasn’t as loud and overbearing, and Logan found that talking to him about anything and everything was just as easy as it had been that night. Their days were full of laughter and happiness, and Logan finally grew comfortable with the idea of living with a—with his—guardian angel.

Logan had also grown painfully aware of the lulls in conversation whenever Roman complimented him and he found himself at a complete loss for words or when he shot Roman an unexpected smile and the angel’s face turned a shade of red almost as bright as the sash he’d had on the day Logan had met him. He was certain it couldn’t have meant much, but those lulls still blinked out at him like a neon sign on a deserted street.

…Alright, so it was possible that he wasn’t so naïve as to think that the constant state of being flustered and the constant blushing and the constant heated eye contact and everything else that had been happening meant nothing. And it was possible that he was aware that this likely meant he harbored feelings for Roman and Roman for him, but that in no way meant that he had to acknowledge these feelings.

He very much did not want to waste a month of perfectly good friendship, so he would also very much pretend these feelings did not exist.

At least, this is what he would have done had he not walked into his room one day while Roman was stretching his wings.

It was only then that Logan had realized that he hadn’t seen Roman’s wings at all since the first day they’d met and in all honesty, had nearly forgotten about him. There were times when Roman seemed so human that Logan couldn’t believe that was not the case. When he saw Roman’s wings though, he was reminded sharply of the fact that Roman was an angel, through and through.

Roman was an angel, and he was falling.

Logan assumed that this was why Roman’s wings were going black at the tips, but he still figured clarifying would be prudent. “Roman?” he asked, knocking lightly on the door frame to alert the angel to his presence.

“Logan!” Roman exclaimed, spinning around and hiding his wings behind him as best he could in one rapid movement. “What— what are you doing here, my darling?”

Giving a sigh that was altogether too fond, Logan said, “This is my room, Roman. I’m in here because I forgot my glasses on the nightstand.”

“Oh,” Roman nodded, still trying to make his wings disappear behind his body. “Yeah, that makes sense. Uh, go ahead and, um. Get your glasses so you can see. Not! That there’s anything interesting to see here.” Roman flashed him a sparkling grin, hiding the layer of panic beneath it.

“Telling me that there isn’t ‘anything interesting to see here’ is only going to convince me of the opposite. Besides, I already saw your wings. Why are they turning black?”

“That? Oh, that’s nothing!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“…By ‘nothing,’ I of course mean nothing of importance! I tried dyeing my feathers and was checking to see how they looked. It’s not good, I know,” Roman said with a laugh, that impressively enough, barely sounded forced.

“Are you falling?” Logan asked, ignoring Roman’s explanation entirely.

“Am I— am I falling?” Roman scoffed. “Why on Earth would I be falling? There’s no reason for me to fall, is there?”

“Well, I don’t think I should know. I’m not the one who knows the rules and hierarchy of the angels. So, you tell me. What reason would there be for you—or angels in general, I suppose—to fall?”

“Ah. Angels fall when they do… something bad. You know. Bad things. Evil things.”

Logan raised an eyebrow again. “Such as?”

“Oooh, you know. Pride, sometimes. Or jealousy, sloth, lust, greed, gluttony, wrath, too much disrespect or insubordination, not doing their job, uh, consorting with the enemy, and other such wickedness. Just. General bad things, as I said.”

“So, have you been prideful?”

“Not any more than what’s healthy.”

“Jealous? Lazy? Lustful? Greedy, gluttonous, wrathful?”

“Nope.”

“And I know you haven’t been disrespectful and that you have been doing your job.”

“Mhm. See, Logan? No reason at all for me to fall.”

“What would you define ‘the enemy’ as?”

“What?”

“ ‘The enemy,’ ” Logan repeated. “As in, ‘consorting with the enemy.’ ”

“Oh! Some define it as any non-angelic entity, but most would agree that ‘the enemy’ is more along the lines of a beast from Hell or another demon of sorts. And I clearly haven’t been consorting with any demons, so—”

“Define ‘consorting’ for me in this context, will you?”

“Well, normally it would mean to closely associate yourself with someone, but, seeing as I am a guardian angel, that is sort of my job. I’m not consorting with you if that’s what you’re worried about. The only way I’d be able to properly consort with you would be if I developed some sort of bond with you outside of a normal guardian angel-mortal relationship. Which! I haven’t! I’m just helping you work through your issues, and if I just so happen to become closer to you while doing so, no one could fault me for that!”

“Roman, I hate to break it to you, but that sounds exactly like consorting with the enemy. If you’ll excuse me for pointing this out, I feel we have a relationship that is just a little bit different than a strictly professional one.”

“Okay, so maybe you’re right. But almost all good guardian angels become friends with their humans! I’m hardly the first one, and none of them have fallen.”

“Mm, I suppose that is true. Can you think of any other reason that you could be falling?”

“Well… there is this one thing? That might possibly be happening? But I sincerely doubt it is,” Roman said through blithe laughter.

“Do you admit that you are falling, then?”

“I— uh, no…?”

“That convinced me of precisely nothing, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Roman’s demeanor brightened immediately upon saying this, as though pretending that everything was fine would convince Logan that it was.

It didn’t work, clearly, as Logan asked not a moment later, “Now, what’s that thing that might possibly be happening?”

“That? Oh, nothing! Again, nothing at all of importance. I assure you I’m fine, Logan. I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt that you could. In theory, at least.” Logan couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face at Roman’s offended gasps, but he managed to continue through barely repressed laughter. “But right now, you are very much not taking care of yourself for whatever reason. Care to inform me what that’s about?”

“I mean, no. Is that an option?”

Logan sighed in fond exasperation. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well. It was worth a shot.”

“No, it really wasn’t.”

“You’re no fun. But! Nice talk, it was great to see you, Lo!”

“…What are you doing.”

“Uh, I’m going to finish getting ready for the day?”

“And are you just assuming that I forgot about the whole ’you’re falling’ thing?”

“…Yes.”

“That would be incorrect, then. Please Roman, just let me know what’s going on. It’s clear you’re hiding something, so what is it?”

Roman winced at the accusation, sitting down on the bed. “Is there anything I could say to convince you to stop prying?”

“No, nothing at all,” Logan replied, sitting down next to him.

“Then… it would be best to just say it, right? Not draw it out for too long?”

“Yes, that is what most people would prefer to do.”

“I fell in love with you, Logan.”

“You did.”

“I did.”

Logan wasn’t sure why he felt so shocked, in all honesty. He’d known that this was very likely to be true. He’d known that Roman was falling from the second he’d walked in the room, and he’d had his suspicions as to why he was a moment later. He was at a loss, then, as to why he would possibly be feeling tears on his cheeks.

“Are you… crying? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I— no. You’re fine.” Logan turned away to wipe the wetness from his cheeks before looking back up at Roman. “I believe it’s just that you—essentially, you’re falling because of me, aren’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. This is still entirely my own doing, after all.”

“But it is because you fell in love with me that you’re falling, correct?”

“I mean kind of, but I promise you that this isn’t your fault, Logan.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, wiping away the final traces of his sadness from beneath his eyes. “If I had—”

“What, been less easy to love? You aren’t easy to love, Logan, and that’s one of the infinite reasons I do love you. I had to do so much to be granted even a glimpse of who you are, and after I did… well, I can hardly fault you for being yourself.” Roman gave him a bittersweet smile. “It wasn’t any one thing that caused me to fall in love with you, it was everything that you are and were. I love you—not something that you said or did or anything else—and there’s nothing you could have done to change that. My fall isn’t your fault, Logan. I promise.”

Logan dutifully ignored the blush that began to cover his face. “Is there any way to stop an angel from falling?”

“I’m not sure. But frankly, Logan, I don’t mind falling one bit if it’s for you.”

“That’s incredibly sweet and all, but I am trying to figure out a way to save your soul here, so I’d appreciate any information you may have on hand.”

“Yes, right. I, uh, I’m sorry to say that there isn’t a way to save a fallen angel, darling. You can’t raise angels, so while I do appreciate the fact that you care for me, there’s nothing you can do.”

“You haven’t fallen though, have you?”

“No, the darkening wings just indicate that I’m going to, and I’m going to soon.”

“You haven’t fallen yet,” Logan repeated, giving Roman a pointed look.

“…Yes. That’s what I just said.”

Logan shook his head, deciding to fully explain what he was thinking himself. “So if you stop doing whatever is causing you to fall, halt the progression of black over the rest of your wings… you could still be saved. You are still an angel, so you can be saved. All you have to do is—”

“No. Absolutely not. Logan, I made you a promise, and I won’t break it. I won’t—”

“—leave me behind.”

“—leave you behind.”

“You have to. I want you to be able to remain an angel, to not fall, to be happy because I—”

“I can’t. I don’t care what happens to me as long as it means I still get to see you and spend time with you and as long as you’re happy because I—”

“—love you,” they finished in unison.

“And that’s why you have to leave.”

“And that’s why I can’t leave.”

“I love you,” they said again, perfectly in sync, the words meaning everything and not nearly enough all at once.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Logan whispered.

“So then you won’t,” Roman replied, voice just as quiet.

“But I— I know there’s no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice.”

“Not this time. No matter what you do, I lose you.”

“Logan—”

“You have to leave. You have to go back to— to heaven or whatever sort of paradise it is that you came from. At least this way, I’ll get to say goodbye.”

“Logan—”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s another way, and I’ll stop.” It was a question, a challenge, but most of all, it was a plea.

“I—” Roman took a quivering breath. “You’re right. You’re always right,” he said with a slightly watery laugh. “There’s no other way. You’re right.”

There was a tragic sort of irony in that. The one time he wished more than anything that he was wrong, Logan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his head against Roman’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

Logan looked up and placed a delicate kiss on Roman’s cheek. “Do you— are you alright with leaving now?”

“Now?”

“I know it’s sudden, but I— I don’t want to draw this out any longer than necessary, not while I know that you’ll be leaving soon enough anyway.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Both Logan and Roman went silent for a moment, neither moving, neither wanting the world to continue hurtling towards the end of their time together. Finally though, Roman spoke.

“How about one more day?”

“One more day?”

“Mhm. Just… spend one more day together, and then I leave tonight. So we can part with a few more beautiful memories of each other to hold on to.”

“That sounds—” Logan had to pause, clearing his throat to banish the emotion from his voice. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you have a plan?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Logan laughed, happy to ignore the ticking countdown in the back of his head until later. “I figured I’d ask, but somehow, I didn’t think you would.”

“You know me too well, love.” Roman lightly kissed the top of Logan’s head before continuing, “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready. You’re good just wandering around town for a while, right?”

“With you?” Logan smiled. “How could I not be?”

_________________________

Time has a funny way of passing sometimes. When you’re looking forward to something, it seems to crawl. When you’re doing something you enjoy, it can become negligible and easily forgotten. When you have nothing to gauge it by, Mondays become Thursdays and Thursdays become Sundays.

And of course, when you’re dreading something, the time before it passes in a blur.

Roman and Logan’s day passed in a blur.

They’d gone to all three bookshops within walking distance of Logan’s house and the ice cream shop situated beside the final one. There was an odd little museum near the edge of town, and they’d dropped by there too. They had brunch at a charming cafe and made up stories about the people that walked past the window, perused the aisles of several stores just so Roman could try on increasingly eccentric outfits for Logan’s amusement and bought nothing. At the dog park just off of Main Street, they’d stopped to laugh with each other at the antics of the puppies that rushed to and fro before strolling along the road towards a park of their own, lined with the most beautiful flowering trees. They stopped in bakeries and candy stores, coffee shops and out-of-the-way boutiques filled to the brim with various antiques and trinkets. Logan and Roman did all that and still would have sworn they couldn’t have spent any more than four hours together.

It was, of course, closer to eight and a half hours since they’d walked into the first bookshop to the moment the sun had almost fully set and their day was over.

Time can do that to you sometimes.

Similarly to the way time had felt earlier in the day, time after the sun had set passed in flashes, quick as lightning and just as bright. The walk to their willow tree should have taken at least fifteen minutes, but it felt as short as one shallow breath.

When they did reach the willow tree, they stood there for what felt like an eternity, lost in each other’s eyes before Roman broke the silence. “Dance with me,” he said.

And though Logan had never once danced in his life, he replied, “Of course.”

Beneath the moonlight that filtered through the willow tree’s branches, Roman twirled Logan to the beat of the silence around them. Neither pointed out the lack of music, and neither mentioned that Roman had only asked to dance to put off the inevitable.

It was only when their feet grew too tired to keep moving that they stopped and stood still. Logan looked up at Roman and the stars above him, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky as to find someone like his angel, even if it was only for a fraction of his life. Roman looked down at Logan and the silver light that gleamed in his dark eyes, pondering what he had done to deserve having so little time with the love of his life before everything was ripped away.

The whole world paused as they held each other, Logan’s arms twined around Roman’s neck and Roman’s wrapped around Logan’s waist. The air felt fragile, like everything—not just their hearts—would shatter into trillions of pieces once they spoke again.

Still, time continued stubbornly forward on its path towards the end of Roman’s life on Earth—his life with Logan—so the angel spoke despite the fact that he could practically hear how the world shattered around them.

“Logan,” he started, moving his hands from Logan’s waist to brush a lock of hair behind his ear and brush the beginnings of a tear from beneath his left eye. “Logan, there are no words I can say that will truly encapsulate all that I feel for you. There is nothing in this world that could explain all that you mean to me, and there is no way for me to express the euphoria in my heart at having gotten to know and love you. Everything you are and every bit that you’ve grown causes me to fall more in love with you as the seconds tick past, and every moment I find I love you more sets a new precedent for the amount of love I’m able to give. Meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and no matter what happens, I will never, ever forget you. I love you, Logan, more than all the stars in the sky.”

“Roman,” Logan began, wracking his brain for a way for him to say everything he wanted to. “Did you know that if you were trapped in a black hole and you peeked out, you’d see everything that had ever happened and will ever happen in that tiny patch of sky?” he asked, settling on what he knew how to do best: teach.

“This is because black holes are so dense that they distort time itself. The universe slows down and speeds up on a whim, and the passage of time means nothing at all. You could enter a black hole today, and if by some miracle you managed to escape, you’d emerge thousands of years into the future though to you, it would have felt to be mere minutes. This ‘time dilation,’ as it were, would allow you to look ahead of you and see everything that had fallen into the black hole before you and if you managed to turn around, you’d see everything that would fall in after. So, if by some miracle you had enough presence of mind to observe the world around you as you neared the event horizon, you would be able to see the entirety of what had happened in your small corner of the universe when you did. Everything would be moving so much faster than light itself that you’d be able to watch the whole evolution of the universe happen—from the Big Bang to the end of life as we know it—all at once, over and over again.

“But you know, I think if it were me in that black hole, looking out at the creation and destruction of the universe, the rise and fall, again and again, all I’d be able to think about was being here with you in this moment. I don’t care one bit about seeing the rest of the universe when I have something more precious to me than all the stars in the sky—when I have you.”

Roman’s jaw had dropped at some point while Logan had been speaking, awed by the love and eloquence in his words. “Beautiful,” he whispered as he brushed a hand over Logan’s cheek, unable to say anything else and unwilling to shatter the silence any further.

Then a breeze blew through their hair, and Logan and Roman were reminded abruptly that the rest of the world existed.

“You have to leave,” Logan said, and it was at once an order and a lament. He took one step back, and it was the most painful thing he’d ever done.

“I do,” Roman agreed, and it was at once an acknowledgment and a form of mourning. He unfurled his wings, and it hurt more than anything else he’d done in his immortal life. They opened fully, glowing a brilliant white against the darkness as he flapped them once, lifting off the ground. He flapped them a second time, and he was well into the air, barely close enough to reach out a hand and brush it against Logan’s face. “Goodbye, my darling. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roman’s hand began to pull away, and before he knew what he was doing, Logan’s own hand shot out and grasped his wrist as he said with sudden intensity, “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you? Just once, just to remember you by.”

“I wish I could give you thousands of kisses, Logan. Of course you may have this one.”

With that, Roman floated down slightly, feet still a few inches off the ground as though he knew that if he landed he’d never leave. Placing a gentle hand on Logan’s cheek, he leaned towards him, preparing for a soft, sweet kiss.

Logan seemed to have other plans though, for he laid his hands on Roman’s face and dragged him closer, standing on his tiptoes to reach Roman’s lips and meet them in a kiss so passionate the flame burning between them could have set the whole world aflame.

Logan didn’t pull back for a long while, refusing to come up for air because he knew—he knew—that when he did, it would mean Roman’s goodbye would be permanent. But he was human and had to breathe eventually, so pull back he did. Even then, though, he still wouldn’t remove his hands from Roman’s face.

“I love you,” Logan said once more, resting his forehead against Roman’s.

“I love you too. Goodb—”

“Don’t say goodbye. Please. I don’t want to think about the fact that I— I won’t— I won’t ever be able to see you again. Just say I love you. Those can be—” Logan swallowed hard, but he continued holding Roman’s face in his hands as though it were a lifeline. “Those can be your last words to me. Better than goodbye, I think.”

“Okay,” Roman whispered, fluttering his wings gently as he gradually lifted himself farther and farther away from Logan. “I love you, Logan. I always will.” Roman didn’t wait for a response, wiping the tears glistening in his eyes away as he fluttered into the sky and vanished in a bright flash of light.

He was gone.

Logan took a breath, willing it to stay calm. It hitched anyway, and his voice came out similarly unsteady as he said to empty air, “I love you too, Roman. Always. Always, and more than all the stars in the sky.” If he really listened, Logan could almost imagine he heard those final words echoing back at him, falling from the sky the same way Roman almost had.

_________________________

Roman was falling.

He was falling, and his wings hadn’t turned black. He was falling, and he wasn’t screaming in pain. He was falling, and he was smiling.

He was falling, and Logan was staring at the sky in disbelief as he did.

Logan was a neuroscientist. He knew that a fight or flight response was triggered when the human brain was overwhelmed and stressed. He knew exactly how it dealt with information and that if need be, it would formulate more believable scenarios when the current one couldn’t be processed. He knew that when it came to sleep deprivation, intense hallucinations would only start after a full seventy-two hours of no sleep.

Logan was not overwhelmed. Logan’s mind had always processed things in the way it should have, and he was not prone to coming up with scenarios that had never happened. While it wasn’t as much sleep as would have been ideal—seeing as he had been consistently sleep deprived for the past week—Logan had still slept for a full seven and a half hours last night.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why Roman appeared to be falling from the sky.

Roman wasn’t supposed to be falling from the sky. Roman was supposed to be in heaven or whatever sort of paradise it was that he lived in because Logan’s heartbreak hadn’t been for nothing, because Roman leaving had meant something, because their dual sacrifice had ensured that he would be safe.

So why the fuck was he falling now?

And where were his wings? If he were falling, shouldn’t they be as dark and black as night?

Something was wrong. Logan didn’t know what, but something was wrong. He had to get to Roman.

Logan wasn’t normally one for running, but he did make sure to keep himself in shape. That, combined with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, caused him to arrive at the field of wildflowers in record time. As long as Logan’s sense of direction was sound, he was sure that Roman had, for whatever reason, appeared to be falling straight for their willow tree.

Panting, Logan slowed down as he scoured the ground for the place Roman had fallen.

“I’m up here, love.”

Logan looked up. “You’re on top of a willow tree.”

“Astute,” Roman agreed.

“Why are you on top of a willow tree?” Logan asked, refusing to ask the question he wanted the answer to most of all.

Roman shrugged. “It’s just where I fell. I didn’t have any control over that.”

“Right,” Logan said, only slightly distracted by the fact that Roman was currently leaping from branch to branch in an attempt to reach the ground. “So then,” he began, figuring that putting this off any longer didn’t make the least bit of sense, “why did you fall? And doesn’t falling usually entail becoming… you know.”

“A demon? Yeah, it normally does. But I’m a special case,” Roman grinned as he made one final jump and landed on solid ground.

“Yes, I’d say you very much are.” Ignoring Roman’s spluttering response as he continued to make his way towards the angel, Logan asked, “But in this particular scenario, how so?”

With an annoyed huff—presumably still directed at Logan’s previous comment—Roman replied, “I didn’t technically fall, not in the way you’d think of it, since I did nothing wrong. So I’m not a demon, but I’m also not an angel anymore.”

“So what are you, then?”

“Human.”

“Wh— How?”

“Easy,” Roman said, tucking a lock of Logan’s hair behind his ear the moment he drew near enough for Roman to do so. “You know how I fell in love with you? And you fell in love with me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think I could forget? It’s not as though that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past several weeks.”

“Yes, well, my point is that angels are creatures of love, of course, so once my boss figured out why I came back, She decided that tearing me away from the love of my life went entirely against everything angels stood for.”

“And that… caused you to fall?”

“Not exactly. That caused Her to give me a choice: stay an immortal angel until the end of time, helping people as I always had or fall to Earth and become a human so I could still be with you.”

“And you chose to come back. You chose to be human. You chose—”

“You.”

“Me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, my darling.”

“Roman—” Logan stopped, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

“Yes, love?”

Still lacking the words he needed, Logan instead took another step forward at the same time Roman did, and their lips met in the space between them for their second-ever kiss.

“I love you,” Roman said, voicing what Logan could have only hoped to.

For once, Logan was more action than words as he kissed Roman again. It was a promise—a promise to them both that their kisses would be just as numerous as the very stars Roman had helped to create, their love just as beautiful.

“More than all the stars in the sky,” Logan replied finally, lips still a hairsbreadth from Roman’s, voice barely a whisper.

“More than all the stars in the sky.”

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

[pappycat89]

My brain just did a weird thing which got me thinking about weird things my brain does, so I'm gonna talk about them, because why not?

First up, this is all gonna sound weird. Im gonna describe the thing that my brain does and then how it feels. None of these things last for long enough for me to explore these feelings, so the descriptions i give are as best i can. Most of the time, if i say something like "it feels like i could just step into it" i mean theres this almost physical feeling of being on the edge of something. i dont know how else to describe it

Ok, so lets look at what my brain just did. While casually scrolling tumblr, my brain decided to bombard me with a sense memory of something. I say something, because it was less then a second, so i couldn't tell details. All i know is for that split second, i was not sitting at my desk scrolling tumblr. I was somewhere else, doing something completely different. Where ever i was the room was a different colour, there were other people there and it was warm.

"Ok Ben, thats just a memory" well, the thing that makes it weird is that not only took over my senses completely, but there was a small part of my mind that felt like if i just tried, i could literally be in that moment. Like standing in a door frame, but not quite being in the room. That feeling passed when the memory did, but they felt like they came from different parts of my brain. The memory came from down and back, while the feeling of being able to step over the door came from above and back.

another weird thing my brain does is deja vu. Others ive spoken of describe it as a weird feeling of having done this before, but without details. I experience it like a movie playing in my head of whats happening, as its happening, and then it continues from a point where its diverged from whats actually happening. So, theres someone talking to me, and im hearing them, but im also experiencing the conversation in like, a separate window, and the other window deviates from whats happening. I know what it is they're about to say before they say it IRL, and when they say the wrong thing it actually feels wrong. This usually lasts couple seconds and is always accompanied by the feeling that if i just tried hard enough, i could derail this reality and hop to the one in my head. It almost feels like im leaning against a glass panel, and if i could just conentrate i could break the glass, but i cant. The more i try to focus on this other window, the faster it fades, and is almost always gone after about 5 seconds. sometimes its less, very rarely more.

the last thing i wanna talk about is memory related, and may also just be like a trauma response of something. Its also gonna touch on suicide and self harm, so like, skip this part if thats a problem (this will be one big paragraph like the ones above. just skip to the next big gap) So, i can feel the difference between memories and things ive imagined. Like, i have a pretty good and active imagination, but i can always tell what is and isnt real. memories have this kind of weight to them in my head. Theres just something about them that feels different from other things. Except, i have memories that feel like memories, yet cant possibly have happened. And not in a repressed memory kind of way, but in a literal, "there is no way this could have happened" The last memory like this i examined was about guns. I live in australia, and it is very hard for civilians to get their hands on a gun, to the point that until this year, i had literally never seen one up close or touched one, and in this case it was my housemates hunting rifle. So there should be no way that i have the memory of holding a handgun, loading it, and putting it in my mouth. I didn't pull the trigger, but the memory is so deep that i can remember the heft of the gun, the smell of the oil and metal, and the taste of gunpowder residue on the muzzle, and how the metal felt as it scraped the back of my teeth. This is not something that i could have conceivably ever done, yet i have this thought in my head that feels so much like a memory. It honestly worries me sometimes, because if i can imagine something so real it feels like a memory, how many of my memories are real? are there memories i have that feel like dreams or my imagination but are actually real?

Anyways, thats some of the weird things my brain does. I dont like thinking about them too much sometimes because they fuck with my head, but also its fascinating. It sometimes makes me wish i could get into some kind of scientific field where i could study this kind of thing

[rubykgrant]

That last re-make of Carrie was... kinda waek, honestly (and I don’t just mean that in a “the original is always the best!” kinda way, because sometimes they really aren’t). I think it fell into too many motions that a lot of horror movies take, and it wound up feeling like basically any other creepy movie in recent years. Even that might not be so bad, but it also kinda missed some important points of the story; Carrie didn’t feel as “rejected” as the book and first movie depicts her to be, and that is SUPER important, not because it somehow shows that “Carrie was evil and finally snapped!” or “All these kids were evil and deserved to die!” (that is just too close to the “serial killers were all bullied, boo-hoo” excuse, and also “get back at your bullies by hurting them” mentality... and just, no). 

The point of how horribly Carrie is treated is THESE ARE ALL KIDS. The adults around them have been seeing horrible behavior going on for YEARS, many neighbors have seen Carrie being physically and emotionally hurt by her mother, and none of them do much at all. There is even a moment at the prom when Carrie feels like she could maybe finally let go of the hurt she’s been feeling, and the other kids are thinking that they actually regret the awful things they’ve done, and then... the bucket. Carrie needed help, and the other kids needed to actually be guided before things were too late. However, that isn’t what happened. The cruelty had become so casual, it had cut very deep, and it was already too late on the day of the shower incident (though, if I were to really blame any characters; Carrie’s mother Margaret was definitely at fault. then there was Chris and her boyfriend. those 3, more than anything or anybody else, wound up killing Carrie and everybody at the prom). I guess my point is, it is a double-tragedy; Carrie suffered, and then people died. 

None of them should have. Sue sees this, but because she’s just a teenager too, she doesn’t realize the depth and meaning of it until the end. She does understand that she hates herself for being so pointlessly mean to Carrie, and she wants to fix it. Not just apologize, but FIX it, so Carrie won’t feel like that anymore. If it wasn’t for Margaret White tormenting her daughter, and the little couple with their bucket, perhaps it would have worked. The first death, the first person who is killed, is NOT a victim of Carrie; it is Tommy Ross, Sue’s boyfriend who takes Carrie to the prom. The bucket falls, hits him on the head, and that is it. If Carrie had not been somebody with telekinetic powers, the prom still would have been a tragedy. All because one teenager in particular was mad that she couldn’t keep on bullying people and get away with it. Because these KIDS NEEDED HELP, AND TO BE STOPPED. The horrible bullying that falls on Carrie is important to the story, because shortly after, most of the girls seem “normal”. They are awkward and even a little sorry. They don’t want to admit that they have something ugly inside them that made them do that. It is important to see how bad that is, and ALSO how these are mostly just regular kids; this is something we might have to see in ourselves.

Also, just a personal dislike I have for the re-make; it has Carrie move her arms around when she uses her powers, and I guess they figured this would look cool, but there is a lot of emphasis in the previous and original sources that Carrie is discovering a new kind of “muscle”, she is essentially “flexing her brain”. It is incredibly draining for her to do, and it also burns through energy in her body even though she doesn’t appear to be moving or doing much. Having her move her arms around makes it more of a physical action, and it just kinda bothers me.

I bring all this up because I’m re-reading Carrie, and it got me thinking about how the book has several “articles” included throughout the pages, combining with the narrative paragraphs, and it is an interesting concept. The articles (various versions of interviews of people who survived the incident or who knew Carrie, scientific studies, and speculations) imply a much bigger picture. The events of Carries prom has proven, within the world of the book, the psychic/mental abilities exist. Some people still doubt it, but there has been research done and “findings” that support the idea that Carrie was telekinetic. Most of these articles tell us what is going to happen in the story ahead of time, while the narrative explores the inner details of the characters. The articles let us know that yes, Carries has strange mental abilities, and lots of people have died connected to her powers. We get two kinds of “how” explanations.

None of the Carrie movies have included the research articles, he get the straight-forward story in the narrative (which is fine and makes sense, it is more clear that way for the movie). Since two movies already exist, I think if there was every another try at a re-make, it would be good to switch it up and explore this other angle. Create something that is almost like a documentary, perhaps even have “reenactments” of certain scenes. It would make the story feel like something that really happened, maybe even do the found-footage thing for some events (the stones falling on Carrie’s house when she’s little, a neighbor could have recirded that, but nobody thought the footage was real outside of the people who saw it). You’d get tricked into thinking this movie is just a documentary thing... but then the scenes change, and the movie REALLY starts, telling us the narrative as it usually is told (like, the first 20 minutes or so are the “documentary”, then it rolls into a regular movie). At the end, it shifts back to talking about the research and what-not. I just think that would be a cool, and slightly different, way to roll with it

[whoperlokian-bendingismagic]

New Short Story

Distance is a funny thing. Or rather, perception of distance is a funny thing. Human brains can really truly understand distances of up to about ten miles. Anything longer than that and it’s just math. Driving down a road, if you have 240 miles left and you’re going eighty miles per hour, you have three hours of driving left. You don’t really know what that means, though. It’s just ticking on a clock, and going from landmark to landmark, if there even are landmarks to use. The human mind is always approximating, always recalculating sensory inputs based on past experience It only knows what it’s been designed to know.

Never trust your own mind if you have instruments. Instruments first. If there’s no instruments then don’t trust your two-second gut. Trust your two-minute gut.

I grew up in the Eastern Urban Complex. The night sky was nothingness, a velvety black backdrop to a million lights and and towering buildings stretching up and over.

My parents saved up for a vacation. A proper one outside of the urban complex, not just a trip to a different borough where you didn’t have to do the cooking or cleaning for a week. We went when I was 10. We took a train that had no windows. Passengers who had never lived outside the city experienced agoraphobia and severe confusion. It was better to entertain everybody with screens, caused less panic. The train was luxurious. The chair was comfortable, we were served delicious food by pretty ladies in tidy uniforms and gleaming smiles, their hats perched just so over their immaculate hair.

We took the train out of the city and all the way to the end of the line. If you asked me how many miles we traveled on the train ride, I would have told you about fifty. I looked up how far the trip actually was years later. It was more like seven hundred miles.

Distance is relative. Distance is perception and perception is false. Check your instruments, check them again. If the numbers seem wrong to you check the backups. It’s probably you that’s wrong, though.

As I stepped out of the station, I found the world too big, too open, and I suddenly felt too small. There were people there to help us get acclimated. Focus on ourselves, then let our senses explore this alien experience of openness, of distance, of the desert. We got into a car and were driven out towards the mountains. We couldn’t see the mountains from the train station, but that was what my parents told me. We were driving towards the mountains. I’d never seen mountains in person. I’d looked at pictures in a book, though. I’d heard they were big. When we crested a hill and could suddenly see the mountains, I shrieked. They were coming right up on us and we were going to crash into them.

My parents shushed me, but the driver chuckled and said that was a pretty typical response. Of course, we didn’t crash into the mountains, they were still miles away, and as we got closer, the slopes became gentler, smoother as we got closer, and the road climbed up through a canyon between two peaks. The trees changed. The Eastern Urban Complex has trees in its thousands of pocket parks between buildings, shady trees with broad green leaves that turn golden and orange and red in the fall. The trees here had needles. Very little grew beneath the trees, and the dirt felt more like dust than anything.

We finally got out of the car at a retreat. There were a series of buildings situated around a bigger building. THey were all built out of logs. My mom told me the smaller buildings were called cabins, and the bigger one was called a lodge. I had read about cabins before but didn’t think they looked quite like that.

Perception and reality are often at odds. Instrumentation distills reality into digestible pieces of information we can use to modify our perception to match reality. The instrument says I’ve been “here” for two days, but that feels wrong too. I don’t have any backups to cross-check, though.

 There were other children my age there that I played with, trails to hike, a forest to explore and rocks to climb. I don’t remember a lot of details from my time there. I couldn’t tell you the color of the sheets on the cozy bed. I couldn’t tell you what meals we ate, or the names of the children I played with. There’s a distinct smell, one of dust and pine trees that’s locked in my mind, though, and there’s my first sight of the true night sky. 

My parents let me stay up late, and we would go out and look at the night sky. It was practically littered with stars, big and small. I’d never thought of the sky as an object before. I thought that maybe if I got a good 50-foot ladder, I could climb to the top of that and touch the stars from there.

Examine your thoughts. Why are you thinking what you’re thinking? What’s the basis? Answer these questions honestly to yourself and to others, it can save your life, your crew, and your mission.

That experience planted something deep in me and I strove to find a way to touch the sky. A 50-foot ladder is hard to come by, but if you really want to touch the sky, you need a fusion drive. The best way to get a fusion drive is to join the Naval Scientific Exploration Team, NSET, pronounced “enset” for short. 

I poured myself into my studies. I had never been a slack student, but with a distinct goal in mind I became great. I studied general spaceship engineering and navigation. NSET only takes the best and brightest, so I fought to prove that I was good enough. 

There was an experiment, or demonstration done on every NSET cadet after they were accepted. We were asked a series of “true or false” questions with only a second to answer each one. “An object released in Earth’s atmosphere will fall to the ground”, “Magnets attract opposite poles”, “A ball thrown will approximate a circular trajectory”, Easy, true, true, false.

“The earth revolves around the sun” false. “Orbiting objects experience gravity” false. “The world is flat” true. We all knew the correct answers to those more difficult questions, but without time to think, we grabbed for the convenient, intuitive answer. Answers that are convenient or intuitive are not by definition correct. They are, however, easy to fall prey to, because they fit so neatly into a caveman view of the world. 

Cavemen have never traveled through space, though. Cavemen have never traveled at a million kilometers an hour, or measured distances in light-minutes. Cavemen were never one mistake away from their entire support environment vanishing in a cloud of twisted metal and shattered ceramic. Cavemen never watched their friends desperately fight against nothing and be pulled apart from each other by first order kinematic equations, enacted ignoring losses due to air resistance or friction. At NSET academy, we watched tapes collected from black boxes from early manned explorations deep into the solar system. I can’t sleep sometimes thinking about the panic and terror flooding those people as they were ripped from their venting ship and out into space.

So we had it drilled into our heads that we were unreliable, that trusting our gut could be catastrophic. The first practical exercise in the NSET training program is called “the egg”. It’s a sensory deprivation tank. You feel weightless, with no light, no ambient temperature, no sound. It starts by feeling liberating. The mind is free to wander, to contemplate anything. People outside NSET use sensory deprivation tanks as a meditation aid or a brain-booster, but they get to control when they leave. The Egg isn’t something you pay for, or do to enhance your mind, or leave whenever you want. It’s a test and a demonstration. Some people lose it hard. They get transferred to a different branch of the Navy, or optioned to leave with no shame or dishonor, just getting admitted to NSET is an easy way to join a private spacer corp. NSET isn’t for everybody, and if you can’t handle The Egg, then nobody wants you on their NSET crew.

I didn’t fail The Egg, but I can understand why people do. When all the senses you rely on to provide information don’t have any information to provide, you start losing the more esoteric senses supported by the main five. First, you lose your sense of form as your body dissolves into the nothingness surrounding you. Next, you lose your sense of space entirely, if you don’t have a being, a shape, then how can you know anything to be anywhere? Without space, you lose time. Some people, particularly those living with mental conditions like ADHD or depression can already have a loose grasp of time, but even the most neurotypical hard-ass king of punctuality starts losing their sense of time.

Then, The Egg opens. The light is disorienting, sounds are suddenly back, and you have a shape, a form, a place, there are things happening, which means that time works again. Then comes the question: “How long were you in there?”. Nobody answers that one correctly.

Two days can’t be right. The oxygen and battery indicators haven’t even gone down to 75 percent.

You should not trust your intuition, your internal senses to make decisions for the entire space ship. That is the constant lesson at NSET training. There are tips and mental exercises to help with some of the shortcomings our minds have, but our instruments are always the key. We go back into The Egg on a routine basis, and now that we know what’s coming for us in the prolonged sensory deprivation, we can react. Focus on your breathing, your heartrate, your fingers and toes. Move periodically to pull yourself back into awareness of your body. The heart is not a good clock, but it’s better than no clock. Count your pulse to use it as a rudimentary timepiece. Don’t go with your initial gut feeling. Instead, if everything else is going wrong, think about the information you have available for two minutes and then check your gut. If you’re only given a second to answer, you think the sun goes around the earth, but with two minutes you’ll know that the earth moves around the sun.

Everybody is trained in every function of the ship. There are specializations, but we aren’t running routine trade routes to Mars or microgravity mining operations. NSET’s goals are to travel to the great beyond, past the Oort cloud and set courses to new solar systems. The ships have the latest technology, the best drives, and the best crews.

I’m ostensibly a navigator, helping track progress and plot courses as we travel further than any human ever has. However, if need be, I can pilot the ship, rebuild the reactor, maintain environmental controls and life support, and repair damage to the ship’s hull.

With new drive technology and a different goal in mind, we surpassed the limit of Voyager 1 as the farthest human-made object from earth in just eighteen months. 

The time doesn’t make sense, the O2 and electric readings don’t make sense, checking trajectories. Which way am I headed?

The sun is nothing but the brightest star now, out of millions visible to my naked eye. My repair mission timer is reading three days now. The ship is long gone, I don’t know how I got separated but I did. I’ve been using every trick in the book, but staying out here is almost worse than The Egg. Three days doesn’t make any sense. I had O2 and suit systems batteries good for a five hour repair shift. I started using my heartbeat as a timer, I counted to 3600 beats, an hour, and the gauges haven’t moved, not since I left the ship. 

I’m not cold, but that’s not surprising. The one-second gut reaction is that I should be solid ice by now, but space doesn’t work like that. Heat transfer occurs through three mechanisms: convection, conduction, and radiation. Convection requires a moving fluid, and conduction requires a contact with a surface at a different temperature. The void of space requires neither. The suit is designed to minimize radiation heat loss, so I’m keeping a level temperature, especially now that I’m not exerting myself. I’ll be warm for a long time after I die out here.

I do have to keep myself moving, minimally at least. If I stay still for too long, I can feel myself becoming the universe. My arms and legs melt out from me and start spinning outward and outward. My chest becomes so bright and before I know it I am the universe, I have no form, I have no volume or dimension and I become the galaxy around me, until my suit beeps, or an itch develops on my skin and I snap back into myself, and now the repair mission timer reads four days. Oxygen at 75%, battery at 75%. 

In calculus, when the teacher was repeating subjects to the rest of the class that I already understood, I would contemplate infinity. Calculus deals often with infinity and zero, and I would contemplate just how large infinity was. I would try to fit it into the room with me. Over there, in a corner, there’s a tiny speck. That speck contains all human knowledge. I make it just a little bit larger and add another infinity inside the infinite volume of the room. I add all the functions that have a derivative, the speck grows infinitessimally. I add all the functions for which no symbolic integral exists, the speck grows less. This whole vast room is everything we don’t know and do know and even then it’s merely vast, not infinite. Now I’m experiencing just how wrong I was. Infinity stretches out from me in all directions and I cannot see all of it. The stars slowly rotate around me and maybe if I had a really good fifty-foot ladder I could climb up that and touch them. 

I’m traveling at close to a million kilometers every hour, every 3600 heartbeats, more or less. I may as well be going nowhere. The stars aren’t changing, nothing is changing. I’m only going a million kilometers an hour compared to earth. There are all kinds of things that I’m traveling slower than, or I’m in lockstep with. Motion is relative, distance is relative. I don’t have instruments that can tell me where I’m headed or how quickly, or if anything is coming.

Day five, and I remember that I haven’t had a drink of water since before I left. Two hours before I left I took final hydration, then I peed before getting in the suit because I hate peeing in the suit. I haven’t peed either, I haven’t felt the need. Haven’t taken a shit. Haven’t felt the need.

I flex my fingers and toes. Then I roll my head and smile and frown and squint and stick my tongue out. I say a few words, mostly to practice words.

The word “planet” is ancient greek for “traveler”. Technically, then, everybody on the ship is a planet, the ship itself is a planet, and I’ve somehow become a planet all my own. I’d have to call myself a rocky planet. I have a crust, and underneath that I’m liquid, and all my heat comes from the core of me. I haven’t eaten food in five days, either. No food, no water, oxygen at 75%, battery at 75%.

It took me a while to notice the dark spot in the sky. The void of stars, where there was nothingness. There hadn’t been nothingness there before but now there is. Day five and a half, another star just vanished behind the penumbra. A rogue planet, it must be. I’m traveling so fast compared to earth, I’m probably still going pretty fast compared to this rogue planet as well. I’m on a pretty direct approach with this black nothingness. Not a black hole, there’s no accretion disc, there’s no gravitational lensing, just black. A dark planet just as lost as I am. I wonder if I set foot on it, will it drain all my heat through my feet and leave me a frozen husk in an instant? Will I be alive for long on this?

Strangely, I will be the first NSET crewmate to make physical contact with a planet not of our solar system.

I’m getting closer to the planet, I can feel something happening, a tug leading me to the planet. Two-second gut reaction is that I’m caught in the planet’s gravity. Two-minute gut reaction is that I won’t really feel the gravity until I’ve got something resisting me. I’m in freefall, but without an atmosphere there’s nothing to perceive the pull of gravity.

So why am I feeling this pulling force?

Just under half of my vision is complete void. In my slow spin I can see the stars in half the field of view, and the rest is simply blackness. I don’t have enough light to tell if anything is rushing up on me. I can’t tell how close the ground is now of this pitch-black planet.

Then, impact as my body touches the surface. Not feather-light and gentle, but not so hard it hurts. And then, I sink, and the cold rushes into my suit, and the blackness consumes me and I feel nothing once again.

[nrctranslations]

Episode 11 “A Place Without Clouds”

[Headmaster’s Office]

The day of the Festival

Grimm: Far away, I can see huge clouds that look like whales, but this area is completely clear.

Trey: Yeah, it seems like we can smoothly complete the ceremony, right, headmaster?

Crowley: Hmm...

Deuce: Why are you hesitant? All of us believed there would be clear skies on the day and rehearsed until today!

Crowley: Yes, but even so, look outside the window! As Grimm says, they are far away, but the rainstorm clouds are approaching!? It will only be a matter of time before it reaches the school, and to continue with the ceremony at this time will be...

Phone rings

Crowley: Hmmm? The number is...private. (Picks up) Hello? Yes? Idia Shroud? I-I never told you my phone number, right? How did you get this num-what? Ceremony? I was just talking to Deuce Spade about whether to cancel the ceremony. Yes...yes...what?!! T-that will be a problem!! Excuse me, wait!? Idia Shroud!!! (Phone call ends) ...He hung up.

Deuce: What did Idia say?

Crowley: He said to not worry about the weather, and requested that the ceremony take place for sure. And, he also remotely controlled my computer and sent the reporters e-mails- “The ceremony will be taking place as planned and we will be waiting for your interviews of the school”. I’m at a loss...if it comes to this, doesn't it mean that I really, really have to carry out the Wishing Stars festival!?

[Woods Behind Campus - Big Tree]

Cater: Trey and Deuce, are they alright? It’s a bit far away, so I can’t really tell.

Ace: Well, if it’s Deuce you can tell. He’s definitely trembling from nervousness.

Deuce: I-it’s finally time...c-c-can I e-even dance properly?

Trey: Deuce, don’t get so stiff. Relax your shoulders. We were specially chosen to do the ceremony, but you won’t be able to dance as rehearsed if you’re like that.

Crowley: It’s as Trey Clover says. The news reporters that will be covering our school’s celebration of the Wishing Stars festival have all arrived. I’m counting on you, alright?

Deuce: Y-Yes sir!

Crowley: By the way, where is the vital Idia Shroud?

Trey: He seems to be late.

Crowley: Please don’t tell me that he’s not coming.

Deuce: I really don’t think that...well...but it is Idia Shroud...no, we decided this from a man-to-man competition. Idia will definitely show up!

???: ..........AaaaAaAaAaaAA...!!!!!!!! Footsteps running

Deuce: Oh! That person that’s running over while screaming something...!

Idia: G-g-g-g-going outdoors in clothes like this...it’s too embarrassinggg ahhhhhhhhhh!!! Pants Oh- my bad for being l-late.

Deuce: Idia! It’s great you came!

Grimm: Hmmm? What about Ortho? Shouldn’t you two be together?

Idia: Y-yea, he’ll come later. Th-there were a lot of ‘adjustments’ that I got caught up on.

Grimm: ‘Adjustments’?

Crowley: Anyway, it’s great you made it in time. Now, let’s begin the festival before the weather takes a turn for the worse.

Idia: Understood. Deuce, Trey, are you ready?

Deuce: ....

Idia: W-w-what?!

Deuce: No, it’s just that Idia today seems to have a completely different aura than usual.

Trey: Yeah, I felt the same way. Honestly, I thought you were going to spit out that you didn’t want to play the drums so I was surprised.

Idia: I-there really is no trust in me huh. Well I get what I deserve, yep I do. N-now that doesn’t matter. Rather than my aura, we should really think about what we can do to make the ceremony successful...

Thunder

Grimm: NYAA!!

Option A: “What a loud rumble!” Option B: “That was a really bright flash!”

Grimm: H-hey you, how could you stay calm? It was so scary!

Crowley: I was also a bit scared! It suddenly rumbled, and I was surprised. However, it really has come to this. I have to put a stop to this here. Everyone, the ceremony is cancelled!

Deuce: Wait, there isn’t any rain yet...

Crowley: You heard the rumble of thunder just now, right? I cannot allow you to continue under these circumstances. Besides, look! Above you! The rainstorm clouds have completely engulfed the skies.

Deuce: T-that’s true...

Grimm: You can’t even see the stars at all because of the huge whale clouds!

Crowley: You understand now, right? Holding the ceremony in this weather is too dangerous. I will evacuate the students, so all of you should also make preparations to leave.

Deuce: ....is it really going to end like this?

Trey: We can’t do anything about it, Deuce. We all did as much as we could. When it comes to the weather, there really is nothing we can do at all.

Deuce: But...we tried so hard just for today...to be able to study in this school, even though I’m still far from a model student, I was lucky enough to be chosen to represent the students, and I really wanted to tell my mother about how I carried through my role as ‘stargazer’ to make her happy......but now it ends halfway through like this!! Argh...damn! 

Idia: Yep yep, muscle-brained people always suddenly loose their temper like that LOL

Deuce: I-Idia...?

Idia: You kept quietly mumbling over there by yourself. It was really annoying. Besides, isn’t it even weirder to sigh over a weather forecast that’s been scientifically conducted by the meteorological agency?

Deuce: HUH? What the hell did you just say??

Idia: Technology illiterate LOLLLLLLL I’m not the same as you. Unlike you, I don’t get so worked up over childish school traditions, I don’t run around just to get a shut-in otaku to participate in a ceremony, and I can’t collect 300 ‘wishing stars’. However...because Deuce really is an idiot, that’s why I decided to listen to Ortho’s wishes.

Deuce: Huh? What do you mean by that...

Idia: If the wishes can’t reach the stars, then we’ll deliver them to the stars.

Swoosh

Ortho: IDIA~~~!!!!

Idia: You came!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been waiting, Ortho!!!!

Grimm: NYA! W-what is this? What’s that amazing suit on Ortho?

Trey: Somehow, it looks like the design of the ‘wishing star robes’ too...

Idia: This is the attachment my brother made for me so that I can break through the planet’s atmosphere! It’s ‘Stargaze・Gear’!

Deuce: ‘Stargaze・Gear’....? W-wait, before that, did you just say you’d ‘break through the atmosphere’?

Ortho: YUP!

Idia: If the clouds are in the way, then just decorate the stars wherever there aren’t clouds. Have Ortho carry them up to the skies.

Everyone: EHHHHHHH~~~!?

Deuce: O-Ortho...isn’t it dangerous?

Ortho: It’s alright! It’s been tested many times, and more than anything it’s the body that my brother designed.

Deuce: So the two of you really plan to just fly through outer space?

Ortho: Of course!

Deuce: T-THAT’S AMAZING~~~~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Idia: Wha- wait- what!? Can you not suddenly let out such a loud noise?

Deuce: Idia, you really are truly amazing!!!!!

Idia: EH? Wait-, no-, stop, don’t cling to me! I really can’t deal with skinship! I-even I really wanted it to go well this year. For Ortho.

Idia: Deuce, Trey, what do the two of you plan to do?

Trey: Well...I could never have imagined that Idia would come out with flying machines like this. Since you’ve done that much, we have to do what we can.

Deuce: Of course! Ortho will surely deliver the ‘wishing stars’. The three of us should respond to that with the perfect dance and drums performance!

Idia: Hehe, K!! Now, let’s begin.

Ortho: I’ll move to the sports ground which will be the launching complex. Idia...see you later!!

Idia: Yup!

Deuce: Ortho!

Ortho: Hmm? What’s wrong, Deuce Spade?

Deuce: You said that you weren’t a student of this school, and that you and your brother counted as 1 student...but you are definitely the 4th ‘stargazer’. Let’s show everyone the best Wishing Stars Festival!

Ortho: Yep!!

Ortho runs off

Crowley: W-Wait a moment, all of you! What in the world are you planning to do?!

Grimm: NYAHAHA! Good luck, ‘stargazers’! My ‘wishing star’ depends on you!

[alolanrain]

Ash was often cast out by his teachers during Elementary and Middle school for being “ to rowdy, loud, and disrupting the class as a whole “ and “ unable to keep up with the class learning pace “ when he had a severe case of ADHD, it wasn’t until being shown about the Pokemon School by Mallow did Ash really want to get back into learning.

But what Ash didn’t know was that Principal Oak had access to almost all his records, that means his school records and his trainer records.

 his school records if printed out was a good size stack because most of it was nasty comments his past teachers had about him and there was a good chunk that came from teachers that he never had. His trainer records quadruple in size, making the other stack look like a few flimsy sheets of paper to the monument that was the accomplishments that he had acquired over the past few years. 

Thankfully Principal Oak had taken his time going through both stacks, highlighting what he himself think are key details, and scanning it into two PDF’s and adding the video links also. adding it to an email he CC’d the teachers that cold hold one more student in their class at such a short moment. it was only five teachers, and Professor Kukui was one of them. 

“ Hello all, I would like to state that I am sincerely sorry for reaching you all so late into the night, but I've got a particular student wanting to join our school and you five are my only teachers that have a spot available. in these links are the students School records, notes, and comments from past teachers and their Trainer records - note that I had highlighted details that I myself had thought were important in both documents but feel free to send me any notice or concerns about said student and it would be much appreciated if you all talked about what classroom would be the right one for them so that we can reconvene tomorrow. Sincerely, Principal Oak. “ 

Kukui was working on other scientific paperwork when he got the email, he had a feeling that he already knew who the trainer was but nonetheless he opened the email and the two docs on separate tabs. immediately he was taken back at how many notes and teacher comments from the first document that were all underlined in yellow highlighter. 

“ Ash had somehow had bribe the visiting Lucario and Riolu from interacting with his other classmates, and when confronted about this had denied it until going into a crying fit and brought to the Principals office where we called his mother and viewed the tapes. “ 

the first comment had left something incredibly sour in Kukui’s chest that curled between his ribs, his mind supplied that Ash hadn’t gone into a tantrum but actually pushed to the point of crying by a teacher. the comment didn’t even say if Ash had actually bribed the Lucario and Riolus to him or not. 

scrolling down the pages some he stopped at another comments. 

“ Ash couldn’t sit still during assigned reading time and when faced openly about it he said that he ‘ couldn't consintrate on his book because it was hard for him ‘ he was promptly sent to the Principal’s office and would be retrieved once reading time was over. “ 

now Kukui could understand that sightly, if one of his students acted antsy then it would slowly spread about to the rest. But asking him openly in front fo everyone else in the classroom instead of pulling to him to the side? that was just a dick move right there. 

he scrolled down more until he got to the section of his last year of Middle School. 

“ Ash is incredibly lazy and doesn’t work during most of the class hours. he would approach my after school asking for help with last weeks homework, I asked if his mother helps him. he replied that she’s been busy with her work at the deli shop. I asked about his father and he mumbled something that I had to tell him to repeat it louder, maybe if Ash had a father figure in his life he could actually get some school work done. “ 

Kukui couldn’t believe what he was reading on his computer screen, how can these people be teachers!? you don’t just say that to one of your students that was actively coming after school hours for help. The disgust was slowly started to thicken inside him, but he ignored the document for the email conversation that was happening instead. 

“ I personally don’t want a slacker in my class, all these notes from these teacher must be true! “ ah, good old Amy. Kukui is all for productivity but he know’s that if a student has a bad day, their going to be slower than normal - or in Kiawe’s case, faster and sloppier. 

“ You have a point Amy, but a lot of the comments accusing Ash never stated if they were right or wrong. so you just can’t go assuming that their all right. “ Victor was always apart of the neutral spot, his place next to Kukui since both of them had experienced bad teachers personally and actually worked with them. 

“ Maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt, it say’s that he stopped going to school over 6 years ago, Ash probably wasn’t mentally prepared for school and Kanto does grade harder than we do. this might be really good for him! “ Kukui couldn’t help but figure out who his hackles rose at Petunia’s words. it maybe because Kukui had traveled Alola and Kanto himself, and he didn’t go to collage or any kind of further studies for a while after he got back from Kanto. 

he didn’t bother with a reply because he hasn’t seen the other PDF and so he couldn’t make a full judgment, and he knows Jackson won’t answer until morning because that’s just the type of person he is. 

looking over to the other screen he started from the yellow box surrounding the basic info of the trainer, only to stop and squint at his big screen. 

“ Name: Ashton Ketchum. Class: Pokemon Trainer. Starting Age: 10 - Current Age: 17. Titles: Orange Island Champion; secondary Champion to Kanto and Johto’s Champion Lance, reserving spot for Frontier Brain - though unlikely. Starter Pokemon: Pikachu {through Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Kalos}. Relatives: Delia Ketchum [Mother, Alive], -Unknown Father-, Kanto Champion Red Ketchum [Older Brother, Deceased], Kanto and Johto Champion Lance Wataru [Uncle, Alive]. Doctor Notes: has a severe case of ADHD and has quite the larger appetite for a boy his age and size. “ 

Kukui ha heard about Orange Islands and Secondary Champion during passing, but he never knew it was an actual thing. but he miraculously passed that information over to focus more on the Frontier Brain title, he knows from passing boring students that come from Sinnoh that the Battle Frontier doesn’t hold a spot for a person that was undecided - but apparently for Ash they did. 

getting over his initial shock he was hit by a different wave of emotion when he read through the relative section. He had personally met Delia, she was such a sweet woman during their short meeting and he he couldn’t help remember their last name for some reason. 

this kid - or young adult now - has been dragged through the mud as a young child by his teachers, doesn’t know who his father is and his brother is dead. pursing his lip’s he leaned back into his chair, Kukui pulled his glasses off to lightly chuck them onto the cluttered desk, his hands coming up to press the palms of his hands into his eyes. 

he was honestly fighting himself. 

Kukui had a good reputation with the kids he taught and watched graduate from the Pokemon School, but this year he noticed that Principal Oak had given him... he really shouldn’t call them special kids and those weren’t the right words in any way. 

Lillie comes from a small family, but a family with privilege and wealth, her mother sends over donations for the school to do big projects and that also help pay for any big field trips that they have. Lana’s father is one - if not - the best fishermen in Alola, he helps out the other Scientist if their work is surrounding marine Pokemon and they pay him a very big check every time he brings them the Pokemon on their list. Kiawe’s farm gives a bunch of free food for the kids that usually can’t bring their own lunch and is one of the most sought out brand for certain foods on all four Islands. Sophocles is the younger cousin of Molayne, and is a growing mastermind at technology. Mallow’s father runs one of the best restaurants in Alola and had been featured on many TV shows and some that even went international. 

but unlike them who were placed in his class for one reason or another by Principal Oak, none of his students have the same vibe like Ash. just being in the same room as the young adult Kukui felt like all the colors around him had turned more vibrant, more colorful in general. and watching him practically sink up with Kiawe during the battle between those three team skull kids was amazing, he spoke the commands to Pikachu in such a way that you just imidieatly know that he had been doing this for some time. and from how he interacted with Mallow, they acted like they already knew each other for quite sometime even though they haven't known each other for probably more than two hours. 

but the question rises, where would he stay? The empty loft sitting in his house collecting dust pushed forward in his brain and he knows for a fact that the other teachers wouldn’t give one of their rooms up in their house to a complete stranger. so it was perfectly clear to Kukui. 

ignoring the conversation still going on between the other three teachers he types out his answer to the Principal. 

“ Give him to me, I have a loft in my house since he’s going to need a place to stay and he had already met all of my students. “ he leaned back after he sent the message, chewing on his bottom lip as his mind flashed through the basic paragraph, he should start searching what could help ADHD people learn better. 

[gender-construction]

Reflection

Throughout all of the work we have done this semester one concept that stand out to me is gender as a social construction. In my reflection, I have chosen to focus on the theme of social construction, essentialism, and sex and gender, which all seem to interlace into one. Through my Tumblr blog, you will be able to see how I viewed this topic before taking Global Women’s studies course and after. Before taking this course, I was very intrigued by Women’s Studies this is because I grew up in Birmingham Alabama and I am all about smashing the archetype of the Southern belle. At the beginning of this course I found myself really challenging the stereotypes, but I quickly had to accept that there’s some reality there. I had a conversation two weeks into the course with my high school friends and I have to admit some of them really cannot see how the patriarchy has affected their lives. I realized that most of my friends’ goals after college in tale; getting married having kids they think that’s what it is all about: the guy being the say-so, the girl being the whimsical and getting her validation through him. I have to say, I love the South but it’s there. I also realized that the older generation often laments that younger women see “feminist” as a dirty word. Due to these findings, I was started to question how these wants and assumptions got placed in our minds and where do these roots come from this course helped answer my question. I can honestly say this course has changed my point of view of this topic as a whole it has helped me identify a mold that has been imbedded. I feel as if this class should be a requirement for every woman to take. Through the class I learned a lot on this topic of gender as a social construction and how this effects women globally in many ways such as health and health care, employment, political representation, education, and inmate/ public violence. In different counties, there are strict laws against practice dealing with identity.

Through my first Tumblr post you can see how the video that I posted elaborates on how sex and gender often times get treated as synonyms mistakenly but they are NOT the same thing. It’s important to define the terms accurately to avoid confusion. I have found that many research articles, and researchers, refer to gender when they mean sex. Sex is a biological category that is determined by the specific sex chromosomes inherited from one’s parents. In humans, male sex is determined on reproductive organs, chromosome profile, and assigned at birth. While, gender on the other hand is socially, culturally and personally defined. Characteristics and behaviors that are socially and culturally determined for example: girls like pink and boys like blue, girls play with Barbie’s and boys play with hot wheels.  Another example, men are normally identified out of the two genders as more athletic. This is when Essentialist views starts to come in. This is the idea that sex determined the gender example ALL women want to be a mother because they have the organs to give birth and because they have that they must be more maternal. Essentialist view that quality as an essential quality of being a female because of biological makeup. They view the beliefs that categories, or individuals and groups of human being, have innate defining features exclusive to their category.

I didn’t quit understand the term ‘essentialist’ until I read the short story “Girl” by Jamaica Kincaid. The mother in this poem is giving her daughter ‘advice’ on how to be a lady to both help and scold her at the same time. She warns her daughter against becoming a “slut”, dispenses much practical and helpful advice that will help her daughter keep a house of her own someday, she tells her daughter how to do such household chores such as, laundry, sewing, ironing, cooking, setting the table. Sweeping and washing. The mother also tells her how to behave un different situations, including to talk with people she doesn’t like. However, the mothers’ advice seems caustic and casting out of fear that her daughter is already well on her way to becoming a ‘slut’. She tells her not to squat while playing marbles or to sing any Antiguan folk sings in Sunday School and to always walk like a lady. From the advice that the mother is giving is coming from a essentialist view she thinks that because that because her daughter is a women she must follow these rules in order to find a husband and run a household.  If someone subscribed to gender essentials they believe that there’s a “maleness” or “femaleness” inherent in men and women, whether that’s a spiritual or scientific property. People often use biology to justify essentialism by posting that our chromosomes or hormones or brains make us feminine or masculine (which isn’t true). The mother in “girl” is clearly making claims about gender differences being biological rather than a social construct.

To carry on with, another reading from this course, I was to focus on “Burn Introduction to Global Women’s studies”. The quote, “Men and women live on a stage on which they act out their assigned roles, equal in importance. The play cannot go on with both performers. Neither of them ‘contributes’ more or less to the whole; neither is marginal or dispensable. But the stage set is conceived, painted, and defined by men. Men have written the play, have directed the show... assigned themselves the most interesting heroic parts” - Gerda Lerner. This is the idea that gender inequality is embedded in family, cultural economic, and political, and social structure is sometimes referred to as the patriarchy and social systems that serve males’ dominate over female.

Another reading is the reading “The Treatment if BIBI Halder”, the quote, “They had a point. Bibi had never had never been taught to be a woman; the illness had left her naïve in most practical matters.” When reading this it infuriated me, because a woman should not have to learn how to be a woman but in reality, they do. What I have learned this semester is that woman and men are held to certain standard and these standards are met by being taught to do certain things that their roles are defined by society. One of my Tumblr post is a video on “20 things to avoid becoming a real lady” I posted this because I found it necessary to show the standards that society has for women. I posted another post of Barbie talking bout all the things she wanted to accomplish, I thought it had to be shared because I found it humorous that Barbie the toy that is said to be a huge part in social construction in little girls is seen in these memes as actually saying she wants to do all these things that a a women is not supposed to do.

Lastly, I wanted to talk about my last two post. They discuss the conversation of feminism some people thing the word feminism is an awful thing. I think it goes along with the whole social construction idea that women and men are two separate things and they have different criteria’s. Femniism goes against what social construction is trying to prove. I think it is very important for ll men and women to be feminist. After taking this class I would 100% now identify myself as a feminist. I think that it is very important that people educate themselves on the matter of womens studies. I have learned a lot through this course about literature, sociology, and society.

[happinessandbeyond]

Questioning and Reflections on Educating Gen Z and Gen Alpha: Changing systems, Structures and Interactions.

Who are the Gen Z?

Gen Z are those individuals who are born between 1995 and 2012.

Who are the Gen Alpha?

Gen Alpha are those individuals who are born between 2012 and 2025.

This article does not cater only to the privileged, to those who can afford schooling and to those without disabilities. I’m going to consciously try and cover how and why our system needs to change for the present generations in the schooling system and the next set of them.

A global pandemic was enough to provoke me into thinking what we really need to start changing in the way we deliver information and how we do it.

Our present system consists of educational boards for the so called normal functioning child. For those children with sensory impairments, specially-abled, gifted, and intellectually challenged, our educational and service providers have a set of activities, fundraising campaigns, trainings and vocational opportunities which only help in functioning to a certain extent so as to make one independent. Have we really invested resources to enable inclusivity into understanding what a person with a certain challenge could be going through in a global crises, has there been a deeper understanding and research as to what a person with emotional and physical challenge needs in order to fight a battle such as this. What does it mean to be self sufficient and independent then?

The “real” question everyone asks ‘what are we preparing our children for?’

And the “real” answer that is often given is “We are preparing them for life”. While we are in a middle of a crises our education system caters only to a handful of people who go into becoming experts in scientific research and solution finding. While we ace in being heavily populated we are definitely falling far behind in providing opportunities for the masses in order to help the masses in turn.

While we constantly emphasize on the fact that children are the future, then how come none of the children are finding any meaning in the system of our education? What future can they possibly even dream of when opportunities are only for some and not others?

The two generations after the millennial’s are the one’s that we need to focus on, in order to save lives and add meaning and not just prepare them for life.

The RTE Act, the rule of having a special needs child in a mainstream school is not what we should be proud of, we can only be proud when inclusion is achieved as an unsaid law and prepares children into inculcating basic qualities and values such as helping, empathic understanding which can then be utilized in a progressive manner where children are encouraged to think and reflect critically. By this I mean using some useful core values and applying the knowledge base towards a healthy and meaningful lifestyle.

Our present structure consists of teacher-student, facilitator-student, guide-student and so on. The role of the “knowledge” provider remains in a position of someone who is experienced and in a place to educate. When a structure based on hierarchy and power exists there is a passive killer that is constantly being built within the psyche of the child which is DOUBT.

As adults most of us have ideas and novel plans on bringing about change in our own ways, but why is it that only a small percentage of us can actually execute it? It’s mostly because we are dependent on an authority for approval and validation on whether it’s right or wrong. But then the reality lies in the fact that risks are involved either way, then why not follow our instincts? And this self doubt mostly occurs because the system in which we are taught and raised makes one doubt themselves FIRST even before standing up to speak and express. Although I do want to emphasize that there is a thin line between thinking twice and expressing, which should also be role modeled at a very young age.

Research in child psychology has shown and proved that children at the age of three onwards have the capacity to absorb any information that is exposed to them repeatedly or instructed. In my work with children of that age group I have observed firsthand, the levels intelligence and their capability to reason and resolve conflicts with their own age groups and even with adults given the freedom to express and listen. If we do have such a wonderful opportunity, then why not expose children to an environment that is real, authentic and free of self-doubt.

The brain of a gen z and a gen alpha child is much more hyper stimulated due to the changing lifestyles of adults and exposure to increased levels of screen time radiation. Where our educational structure and interaction is based on books and exams the ever evolving brain thirsts for something more meaningful. When there is no rationale and logic behind some of the most relevant questions that children constantly ponder over and ask, a bigger passive killer is built within the psyche of the child which is loss of interest. It can arguably be said that children are curious by nature, I do not disagree, but what does concern me and should concern all of us is that they begin to get curious about things that don’t hold any meaning and purpose.

Here I give you some of the questions that children between the age of 6-13 have asked me.

 ·    Why do we need exams?

·    What is the point of carrying so many books every day?

·    Why do we have such limited classed of PE?

·    Why don’t we have an option to exercise choice in how we want to learn and study?

·  Why should we study so much and some of us have to sit at home after marriage?

Honestly I wish I’d told them that it’s all a money making racket and a business idea to run schools, and that no one really cares about what they do or who they become after a given point. But again I’m one of the passive culprit who was also put into the system from the age of 3.

Although to most things I told them that I do not have a definite answer and that I’m still in the process of figuring it out.

In our ways of interaction with children of the gen z and the gen alpha, (I mean all children irrespective of any medical or psychological condition) our education system and training facilities have a long way to go in their ways of interaction which can only start by not repairing the roots but by growing new roots.

Soon after the pandemic hit every country, some of the schools in India were converted into hospitals and shelter for those who need to be quarantined, some institutions have gone out of their way to help students and provide classes online, then again the online classes in India only caters to a handful of them and here again, we do need to question if that’s what education means and if that’s what is important as opposed to providing mental health and physical health services for every child.

I posed this question to a few children in the present schooling system and here’s what they had to say.

 Question:

 How do you think your education system could have prepared you to battle a global pandemic?

Washing our hands , putting our elbows front while sneezing and all other safety precautions should not only be told when such pandemic arrives it should be mainly put in education curriculum because if we learn this from childhood then itself we can apply it strictly when such pandemic arrives.

It should be taught each and every citizen of the country should strictly follow the rules put up by the respected country (during lock down some people were unnecessarily out without any reason)

Education system should also be prepared for online classes before itself so that studies will not be disturbed.

Education system should bring awareness in the schools of rural areas to help them build up their immune system.

Lasya – 8th grade (Bangalore-India)

______________________________________________________________

Our education system should have some practical experiments in the lab showing the importance of washing hands and being hygienic, and the explanation of it and the consequences and result could have made us aware of all the diseases. The education system should have seminars regarding self hygiene, and how these viruses spread and become a global pandemic affecting people. They should have at least had soaps in the washrooms so that children have some impact on cleanliness. Though there are some chapters in the children’s books but not much importance is being given to hygiene. Our system should teach children basics about viruses and bacteria. The higher grade students know much about it and they are aware of things and it has helped them to stay safe.

 Aina- 10th grade (Bangalore-India)

 ______________________________________________________________

 I think the education system should have emphasized how viruses and illnesses spread and how important it is to stay home and take precautions against it. I feel like there are people in my school and community who do not understand the seriousness of the coronavirus pandemic and think it’s ok to keep going out unnecessarily.

We should have been taught about previous outbreaks in the past and how we as students can help slow/stop the spread of viruses.

As for what my school and education system has done as an effect of the coronavirus, I think they are doing the best they can. Our school district quickly implemented an online learning system for us so that we can still hopefully graduate on time. Although many school events got cancelled, the teachers, principal and counsellors at my school often offer support for students during this time. Many of my teachers and even the school principal are very understanding.

Our school district even gave away the districts laptops to students who don’t have their computers at home and offer WIFI hotspots. There are a lot of things that are unknown at this time such as whether or not my class will even have a graduation and whether or not we will ever go back to school again, but I certainly feel that my school has done the best they can despite the circumstances.

However, we should have been educated on what to do and how not to panic during a pandemic, which my school is also trying to do through online classes.

Prarthana 12th grade (USA-Texas)

______________________________________________________________

[lessfamiliarsouls]

GCSE tips

(and i guess exam tips in general)

So I finished GCSEs a few weeks ago and now that I’ve had some time to come back to my senses and take a step back I feel like this might be the best time to write about them as they’re still fairly clear in my head. So, if you’re going into Year 11, here are some things I kinda wish I’d knew more ? I guess?

1. Do NOT prioritise your studies over your mental health. Honestly. It takes a massive toll and it is hard but you cannot push yourself to sit at a desk for hours every day on study leave because you WILL burn out! Even just taking the time for 5 mins of music or stretching or taking a short walk around ur area is worth it, just to let your brain have a bit of a break.

2. that being said, don’t use your breaks to go on your phone. Before you know it, the whole day will have gone by - seriously. Using screentime limits or Study Timer (on App Store, it’s basically an app for the pomodoro method - you do 25mins of work and get 5 mins to have a break, p simple) is a good way to avoid just lounging around your phone

3. don’t beat yourself up! you ARE good at your subjects, you DO know your stuff. It feels like you’re faking everything but don’t worry because everyone, even if they’ve revised for hours and hours, feels like they’re improvising. Sometimes the best thing is not to compare how much revision you’ve done: I remember after I came back from Easter holidays I had a breakdown in almost every lesson because I felt like everyone had done more than me. The truth was, I had focused more time on other subjects, and they’d done ones I hadn’t got onto studying as much yet. Everyone works at different paces, as long as you feel confident when you’re working by yourself at home, it’ll be okay!

4. ofc the regular tips: DO PRACTICE PAPERS! seriously, they’re the best help you can get. ask your teachers to mark extra essays or at least help you plan them. utilise school resources! trade revision resources w friends!

5. speaking of friends, don’t revise w them! I know someone who had an awful easter break (revision wise) bc she thought she could revise w friends. She’d go to the same library half the year went to and none of then ended up doing work. Don’t do that! Obviously, once you’ve learnt the content, you can do quickfire Q&A stuff but spending more than a short amount of time means you will get distracted and won’t be efficient in your revision

6. when you’re timetabling, make sure you leave large blanks bc sometimes there are gonna be days when you can’t force anything into your head and if you’re on a super cramped timetable, you’re gonna fall behind very quickly. sometimes, instead of a full timetable, it’s good to just work in to do lists.

7. try not to get addicted to a tv show. like, many people do, but honestly speaking from experience don’t recommend

8. start getting a good sleeping pattern earlier in the year! it will help you come exam time!! & don’t pull all nighters, it DOESNT help. Trust me! It’s literally been proven scientifically that an hour of sleep compared to an hour of revision before an exam can help you retain more information. If you’re sleepy, you’re not going to be at peak performance

9. as soon as the exam is done, PUT IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD! that’s it! nothing can be done! if it was awful, don’t worry, you have time for the second paper & if it was hard, i’m sure lots of other people found it hard too

10. don’t compare your grades to others. everyone is working to their own goals. just because you’re not great at maths and your friend is predicted an A* grade doesn’t mean you should be judging yourself for it! Everyone has their own strengths! Also, if someone is complaining about a lot of pressure being put onto then because of high predicted grades, don’t get angry bc “they shouldn’t be complaining, their predicted grades are high” - everyone has different standards and different pressures so it’s unfair of you to judge them for their goals just as it’s unfair of them to judge you for yours.