The day has come, and you have passed away. The fates give you two options as to how you will spend your afterlife. You may spend eternity exploring outer space in the vast expanses beyond this planet, but you can never return to the surface of the Earth, only viewing it from above. Your second option is to spend eternity exploring the depths of the oceans, including the insides of volcanoes and all the way to the Center of the Earth. But you may never return to the land, and can only view it from the edges of waters. Where shall you go, soft spirit?

The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not “the thinker.” The moment you start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated. You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of intelligence beyond thought, that thought is only a tiny aspect of that intelligence. You also realize that all the things that truly matter – beauty, love, creativity, joy, inner peace – arise from beyond the mind. You begin to awaken.
—  Eckhart Tolle

@rootenist - I just reblogged your contest post (@tootenist) and I was wondering if you could do a fic where Spock and his s/o are on a diplomatic mission but the place they were going gets attacked and they get separated. Spock has to try and find her before whoever attacked them does. (If I did the contest thing wrong just ignore this 😅)

Word Count: 2544
Author’s Note: I took some liberties, and Spock and reader aren’t actually in a relationship. Yet ;) Also, I couldn’t find a definitive confirmation of the Vulcan word I used actually being canon, but I used it anyhow. And finally, this fic kinda got away from me, and is longer than anticipated. I’m sure you are all very disappointed in that. Uh, also, totally made up the aliens because sometimes new aliens are the easiest to vilify.

“I’m still not quite sure what we’re doing?” You asked as you fastened your safety belt in the shuttle.

“The Creatotians are extremely literal. They do not understand analogy, or symbolism at all. Jim assigned me to be the negotiator for the peace treaty between the two factions that are warring on Creatotia. He did not want to risk an agreement that was not clearly understood by both sides,” Spock explained.

“I know, I get that,” you replied. “What I don’t get is why I have to come?”

“You are the woman on board I am most comfortable with, and I am in need of a spouse,” Spock explained. You choked and stared at him.

“What?” You sputtered.

“Obviously, Y/N, we are not wed,” Spock clarified. “But the Creatotians were very clear about the parametres of what made an acceptable negotiator. And mated was one of the specifications. As I was qualified in all the other areas, the captain chose to blur the lines, so to speak, and hope they do not notice we are not, in fact, a couple.”

“So I fake being your wife, and we can be off this rock quickly?” You asked. Spock nodded slightly.

“That is the idea, Ashayem,” he agreed. “I am uncertain about how much the Creatotians know about Vulcans, but you should know that we are not as physically affectionate as humans.”

“I’ve been working with you for months now, Spock,” you countered. “I’d figured that out. But what about affectionate nicknames?”

“No.” Spock’s response was immediate. You laughed.

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There is a time and season for belief.

Luke Skywalker is nineteen and his world stretches horizon to horizon, a sea of sand. Stars glitter in the vast distance, a promise beyond words, and he dreams of it in between shooting down womp rats, in between gathering the day’s precious water in too-light tanks. There’s a universe out there, welcoming. Luke dreams.

(The Empire finds him first.)

Luke Skywalker is twenty-one and starship fights light up the space between stars, soundless explosions that ripple in space. The Force links him to everything, to all; Leia shines bright and determined halfway across the galaxy, Han lights up, endless smirking fire, and he doesn’t know if they’re bright because of who they are, or because he loves them. Maybe both. They fight, and they’ll win. Luke dreams.

(The Empire find them first.)

Luke Skywalker is twenty three as his father’s chains burn into smoke, shattering under dark lightning. Hope saves the galaxy. Love, and hope, and family, anger banked beneath belief. There was strength in Aunt Beru’s patience, in his uncle’s unwavering, stubborn determination to gather water every day. Love ignites the stars, until they shine on peace. Luke dreams.

(The Empire waits, tattered ruins reforming along the edges of space.)

Luke Skywalker is fifty-three and his students flare like bright lights, banked embers that flare with emotion, like starbursts. This is the best he could ever be–acting as a bridge to the stars, for children who look up and dream. There’s hardship and sacrifice, but when he watches his nephew grow, stretching towards the sun like a sapling, it’s worth it.

(The First Order finds his nephew first.)

Luke’s world stretches horizon to horizon, a sea of deep blue. Stars glitter in the vast distance, a promise beyond words, and he closes his eyes to it, the reminder of guilt and hellfire. When solar flares erupt and scorch planets beyond repair, the Force ripples with dying cries. There are still, all these years later, so many dying cries, and sometimes those bursting stars are pulses of Force-lightning. His dreams are nightmares wrought at his hands.

The Jedi must end.

Rey finds him first.

Things I learned about Genghis Khan

I learned things today about Genghis Khan - yes, that guy - that I had no idea I didn’t know. CNN declared him the “Man of the Millennium” a few years back and I now understand why.

  • He invented a lot of things, including passports, the Pony Express, and the concept of diplomatic immunity.
  • He had two horsehair “spirit banners,” one black and one white, made from the hair of his best stallions. The black represented war and the white represented peace. These went with him everywhere and in Mongolia, legend has it that the black one still exists.
  • He set foot inside a building exactly once in his entire life. He lived in tents called gers, or yurts, and dressed like everyone else. He also insisted that his name not be spoken with any particular reverence.
  • Although he was definitely a bloodthirsty invader who rightly inspired fear in many nations, he never attacked anyone without giving advance notice.
  • He was a firm believer in the idea of a meritocracy - after removing those in power in a place he conquered, he would install new leaders of those areas based on their individual worth. Sometimes these new leaders would be chosen from among his fellow Mongols, but just as often he would select them from among the people he conquered.
  • Everyone living in his empire had the right of religious freedom; they could worship however they chose and were never penalized for it. 
  • He had a harem, of course, but that was normal for his culture at the time. His chief wife was a woman named Borte, to whom he became betrothed at the age of eight. He loved her devotedly - before they were married, she was kidnapped by one of his enemies, who raped and impregnated her. Khan fought to get her back, by which time she had birthed a son. He married her regardless and raised his stepson with great kindness. 
  • Because she was his first and most important wife, the four sons Borte bore him were the ones who inherited his empire. They also had daughters, all of whom became pretty important figures. Right up until Khan’s death, he would go to Borte for advice on all manner of things and considered her extremely wise; after his passing, she retained her high status in the empire and continued to advise her sons and other nobles.
  • Reportedly, he was afraid of two things: wild dogs and his mother’s temper.
  • He was buried with a treasure so vast as to be beyond counting; it took 2,000 soldiers to dig the burial site. When they returned after his tomb was sealed, they were all slaughtered in order to keep the location a secret. To this day it has never been found.

anonymous asked:

do you think there's any reason to worry about the "family thing " Phil's been away for? He went somewhere two weeks ago and dan said the same thing. i dunno

Anonymous said:
dan said that Phil left to see family but it’s the 2nd time in 2 weeks, any theories or thoughts? Because some people were saying that Dan seemed a bit pissy, and I don’t fully agree but he didn’t seem as happy as usual.

I had five asks similar to this so forgive me for not publishing them all. This is one of those topics I already feel impatient with so I am definitely not going to make it through responding to all of them. The whole weird distrusting anxious leaping to the worst assumptions trend the phandom is on just exhausts me. Friends, take a deep breath, calm down, they are literally happier and more open than they’ve ever been, stop convincing yourselves that there is some imaginary other shoe that’s going to drop constantly. That’s no way to live. 

But to answer you: Why would there be reason to worry about Phil going on a family thing? Considering Cornelia tweeted about being at an airport, it’s not unreasonable to think that it was genuinely just a family thing. And is he obligated to say exactly where he is and what he’s doing if he’s seeing family? What, so fans can pop up wherever he’s at or stalk down his family members there? There are a lot of reasons he could travel twice in a month and not want us to know exactly where he’s at. 

Even if it’s not a family thing, why would you immediately worry about that? Say it’s work; he’s probably contracted not to say anything yet if it’s a project that hasn’t been announced. Are you upset because Dan isn’t with him? They are allowed to work independently of each other. And if it is a family thing, why is that upsetting? Again, because Dan isn’t with him? Dan literally just finished talking in this liveshow about how he’s anxious interacting publicly with people and doesn’t want attention, and how he needs to be alone in order to recharge and find creative energy. Does that sound like someone who really wants to throw him into an extended family situation if he doesn’t have to? 

Their lives are vast and expansive beyond what is made available to us. This increasingly frequent reaction feels more like as an audience Dan and Phil fans (and often youtuber fans in general) pride themselves on feeling like they know everything they’re doing, and they feel threatened by Dan and Phil doing something that we don’t know every detail to about therefore that sense of threat is projected back onto Dan and Phil. Not only is that not fair to anyone, it’s also just not fun for the rest of us and surely not for them, either. 

Five problems in chthonic physics

1. Consider a perfect sphere, of uniform density d and radius r, which has just been discovered in the deepest vault of a newly-found pyramid in Egypt. If it is exposed to a metaphysical potential V(x) of the type described in the Voynich Manuscript, derive the width of the ghastly chasm that is about to yawn open beneath the vault, and give the most likely half-life of the sanity of any observers.

2. What physical processes lead to the formation of lightning? Assume a day-old corpse is placed in a standard reanimation chamber. Using Cornelius’s animatory decay equation, estimate the size of thunderstorm that will be needed for a 50 percent chance of full revival.

3. Describe the chain of fusion reactions that provide the Sun’s primary energy source. When the planets align, calling the Old Ones from the void, that other set of reactions that Science dare not name will start up in the Sun’s heart. Estimate, from basic physical and mystical principles, the time that an observer located on the Earth would need to observe a change in the Sun’s output from the starting of the Other Reactions, and show that this far exceeds the time required for humanity to succumb to the ghastly malignities of the Old Ones.

4. If an ancient flooded city is submerged in a water-filled well of 50m diameter and 100m depth, show that water pressure will be sufficient to seal shut that city’s haunted temples, given that they demonstrate a typical level of cacodemonaical activity. Assume a team of investigators, heedless of the awful phantasms lurking below, descend to the city in a spherical submarine of radius 3m. If energy transport within the well is primarily by convection, how long after their intervention will it take for the surface of the well to be contaminated by the soul-annihilating stench of evil?

5. Consider a vast, crawling horror beyond the capacity of the healthy human mind to imagine. Is approximating the horror by a uniform cylinder of length x and length r a valid strategy for preserving the desperate shreds of your rational mind for long enough to scrawl a warning message in the tunnel to this accursed place? Assume moderate light levels and approximately one litre of blood for ink.

“The moment you start watching the thinker, a higher level of consciousness becomes activated. You then begin to realize that there is a vast realm of intelligence beyond thought, that thought is only a tiny aspect of that intelligence. You also realize that all the things that truly matter - beauty, love, creativity, joy, inner peace - arise from beyond the mind. You begin to awaken.” - Eckhart Tolle

Art via @dimensao7

more sad gardy

“I’m standing there… in front of a mirror. It directly reflects my face : my eyes, my nose, my mouth. It shows me that I exist here and now. And yet, I’m nothing on Earth anymore. It’s as if I was only a ghost. I wander in the HQ everyday like a lost soul, I pretend to be happy even if my emotions betray me sometimes. I’m trying to forgive the unforgivable… but why ?

I got closer to the window to look around… I’m trying to understand what makes me want to stay here, chained to my terrible reality. This world is so vast… I know that beyond the forest there’s Balenvia and Huang Hua’s home : the Fenghuang’s temple. But what else is there ? “The unknown… and fear…”

This thought made me shiver. I don’t know anything about this world excepted for what the others told me. Leiftan is right, I will never make it all alone… Not by being so weak. I have to become stronger, I have to stop relying on others.

I have to count on myself and myself only.”

Lostcauses Fic: The Commander’s House

Yeah.  Still not over it.  Sorry.  

(Any similarity between Levi Ackerman and Emma Hamilton is entirely coincidental.) 

It doesn’t get any easier.  The pain doesn’t dull.  It’s as sharp and bright as it was four years ago in Shiganshina.  It’s just buried deeper.  Carved into his bones, woven into his sinews, twined around his heart, his lungs. Some days it feels like it’s strangling him, suffocating him from the inside out.  Other days Levi knows it’s the only thing holding him together.

But he keeps on going.  He does his job, leads reconnaissance missions beyond the walls, accompanies the surveyors and cartographers as they map every inch of the island.  Strange to think that all this time they have been on an island, and that out there, across the ocean, is a world vast beyond their comprehension. He wonders what Erwin would have made of it all.

There are settlements outside the walls now; farms and villages, homesteads dotted along the rivers and valleys, straggling along the coast.  But Levi always returns to the walls. To Shiganshina.  

He buys the house.  The one where they laid Erwin to rest.  Repairs it with his own hands.  Hanji had it cleared out, burning every last stick of furniture when they removed the body. His body.  When they took Erwin away.  “We can’t risk spreading disease, Levi.”  He knew that of course, he’s not a fucking idiot. Growing up in the Underground, he saw first hand how quickly disease could spread. But he saves the bottle from beside the bed, washes it carefully, and every time he visits, he fills it with fresh flowers.

People call it The Commander’s House now and the local children whisper that it’s haunted. It is, but only by Levi.  He inhabits the house like a restless spirit.  He doesn’t really live there.  He doesn’t really live anywhere. He just exists.  

Levi moves some of Erwin’s belongings into the house; his books, personal papers, a few clothes.  He claims a worn uniform and weathered cloak, the threadbare shirt with the ink stain on the sleeve, old boots, worn and scuffed by wear.  They hang in the wardrobe in the bright upper room now.  Erwin’s dress uniform, the one with the gold braid and the sleeve pinned back, is in the museum at the cenotaph.  Levi tries not to think about tearing open the buttons of that uniform, tries not to picture it lying in a crumpled heap of gilt and braid on the floor beside the bed, tries not to feel the weight of his Commander, lying hot and heavy on top of him, slick with sweat and consumed with desire.

Levi, fuck…Levi…

Sometimes Levi sits in the room at the top of the house and reads or just listens to the sounds from the street below; children playing, a dog barking, the notes of a blackbird singing somewhere.  But if he closes his eyes he can still smell the blood and the ash and the entrails.  Still feel the titan blood evaporating from his skin.  Still hear the words “teacher…how…find out…don’t exist?” more real than the sounds of laughter filtering in through the window.  That was Levi’s world, not this one.

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Praying For Love An Paying In Naivety

Langst Drabble

1630 Words

Drabble about Lance’s feeling as he’s trapped in the airlock. (Not really klance, but Keith does show up.)

[TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide mentions and a little bit of self harm]

[NOTE: This is not to romanticize self harm and/or depression. It is a very serious thing]

Summary:  “Lance was empty, like the vast sea of space beyond the airlock doors. It would be nice, he thought, the release death would bring.” Or, Lance is trapped in the airlock, and has some thoughts. (this also has a lot of intrusive thoughts, please be careful when reading it)

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DAY 3319

Jalsa, Mumbai                    Apr 29/30,  2017                  Sat/Sun 1:26 am

This side dear beloved .. this bank .. this brink, there is you, the elixir of life .. what of the other side .. across ..?

Rays of the moon soft and gentle ..wipe away misty fogged eyed, the anguish of life .. the breeze so light and in its mild attire, do make me forget the sorrows of mind .. those withered flower buds, smile and tell you to be in good spirit .. that little bird on the branches of the tree, does give its tale of the essence of youth .. you fill me with the nectar in cup, appease me, entertain me, my soul ..

What of the other side .. the other bank the brink beyond .. who would envelop me with .. the affection ..  care that I do get here ..

My eyes do see ..  beyond .. the vast turbulent oceans .. yet standing there on the other bank, someone does drag me to its arms .. I move today, you will do follow, in the morrow .. and the day after the friends and their company .. the world doth weep in the absence, but they that have to go do go .. my mind doth quiver in uncertainty, just by the banks hither .. but when I shall reach .. alone .. by the middle .. what then my fate .. shall be ..

You are with me here .. what of the other side .. what doth happen then and there ..

… and more .. and more … and more .. beyond .. the description of which may and shall remain unknown .. for when they, that achieve such command, never do come back to tell us the experience or the factuality of the after death ..

Iss Paar is here now ..

Us Paar is there on the other .. unknown and in the mystery of its being ..

If the vision of a poet could not ;  what do we mortals claim to ever know  !

Amitabh Bachchan


SMALL (Bellamy Blake x Reader) 

Request: Hello! Can I please request a Bellamy Blake imagine where since the reader got to the ground she can’t stop looking up at the stars because she loves them so much and Bellamy notices and finds it cute and starts looking at them with her and overtime it becomes their thing and they fall for one another, also if she could be shy that’d be great. Thank you! Sorry if it’s a bad idea or anything I just think it’s cute lol :)

A/N: Aww no I think it’s really cute :) Thanks for requesting! xx


You’ve always loved how the night sky was never completely alone. Stars always filled the darkness in litters of bright dots that never failed to leave you in awe. As the polar diamonds gleam and glitter from above, Bellamy keeps his his eyes on you and a smile on his face. For many weeks he’s watched as you take time to sit alone and admire the stars. But tonight was different - he felt different. Taking in a breath, Bellamy makes his way to you and takes a seat beside you. 

“Oh, um, s-sorry.” You stutter, your eyes wide with bewilderment as you look at your leader, “I know I should be keeping an eye out for grounders… but the stars, they’re -" 

 "It’s okay,” he interrupts, the sky reflected in his brown eyes as he looks heavenward, “I understand." 

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aurora under the ice, pt. 2

Voeld lives up to its harsh reputation, and Saskia and Jaal are stuck in a cave alone to wait out a storm. Jaalmance, pre-relationship (ao3 link)
previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Once, when Saskia had just started school on her own, cast adrift from Lukas after spending their whole lives attached at the hip and feeling thoroughly alone, she had worked up the courage to attend one of those awkward freshman mixers at the start of her first semester at Columbia. Young kids, all of them eager to be out of their parents’ houses, ready to mingle and meet new people and start their lives as adults, and all of them apparently ready to drink themselves under the table to do it.

Courage aided by Lukas’ threat, of course, that he would drop out of Alliance training and frog-march her to a party himself. He would require pictures by midnight, or he was on the first flight to New York, no arguments. He’d done more for less of a reason, and somewhere, deep down, she’d agreed with him. She’d spent the past two years doing nothing but sitting or shuffling through a nearly empty house like a ghost, taking apart every electronic object she could find while her body healed.

But she hadn’t done much socializing during her convalescence. Not that she’d wanted to, obviously. She’d never particularly wanted to meet new people. But now that she was up on her feet and healthy enough to attend school without her nursemaid of a twin hovering over her shoulder, she’d thought she should try.

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He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
—  The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald, 1925

LALO - Antwerp townhouse by Sculp IT features world’s largest pivoting window

This beautiful open-plan townhouse in Antwerp looks out onto a modest garden with a terrace that runs direct into a huge double-height kitchen/living space. The pivoting window that stretches from roof to floor opens out in two and currently holds the record for the largest window of its kind; a whopping six metres hight by three metres wide and weighing almost four tonnes apiece. 

The kitchen area is glorious in its minimal styling, with an island worktop that can be wheeled out onto the terrace when the weather is warm. The window was to replace the property’s older extension that offered no connection at all to the garden beyond. This vast glazed construction was designed to recreate that connection between outdoors and indoors. 

See more at: dezeen

Even before the ever-so-gentle moment where Mike’s lips touched hers and their entire universe came to a graceful halt for a solid minute, Eleven feels a funny sort of fluttering in her stomach when he touches her hand or speaks in soft reassurance or gives her a rare smile. She isn’t sure how to describe it, surveying the words she finds in her slightly limited vocabulary in dissatisfaction. It’s very different from the nauseating twists in the pit of her stomach for the Bad—when Papa would narrow his eyes if she didn’t do well enough or the multitude of men in white coats who she never recognized would stick her with painful needles. It’s more powerful than the gentle warmth that spread throughout her chest when Will’s mother wrapped her in strong arms and comforting words. Now, as much as Eleven adores learning all the new words and ideas from her friends and family to describe her world, she loves most of all to figure them out herself, especially through books, though she’ll never tell. Which is precisely how El finally settled upon the right way to describe this funny feeling. The feeling that bubbles up when Mike reclines her in the La-Z-Boy and makes her favorite flavor of Eggos when she comes over for breakfast on Saturday mornings and interlaces their fingers right before falling asleep beside her in a nest of blankets on the basement floor during a sleepover and can’t help as his cheeks turn rosy after she picks him flowers and squeezes her hand comfortingly. Laying peacefully on her back in a magnificent field of flowers that extends as far as the eye can see—a beautiful yet hidden place, far past the woods of Hawkins, that Will told her about—she studies the vast sky beyond her, taking care to describe to herself the sapphire hue and light dusting of white clouds, as a delicate winged creature lands beside her on its flower of choice. Butterfly, she recalls from the mountain of books on flowers and insects she’s borrowing from Mr. Clarke. A few of its companions, colored a similar calm shade of orange outlined in black linework, flutter over her quickly with wings beating gracefully as they seem to float along with the breeze. The butterfly at her side adjusts its wings slowly, almost studying El just as she carefully studies it, before departing at a much quicker pace. And amongst the brightness of the flowers swaying in the wind and the gentleness of the creatures with the frantic wings, El smiles, inwardly and outwardly, in the solitude of her secret place, at her newly defined funny feeling. The one that fluttered within her when she touched Mike’s lips softly. Butterflies 

On Dhea

Tendrils of sunlight danced across her skin, over the gentle curve of her nose. Silent hums of sleep escaped her parted lips.
How could he possibly escape the gravity pulling him to her, when not even godly intervention would keep him at bay? 
The mattress gave way as he snaked his way up her back, every movement accentuated by a featherlike kiss to her bared skin.

This is how she felt him, even from the fade; a whispered promise of warmth and light, a soft and gentle caress beckoning her to reality.
A final kiss was planted on the tip of her ear as he settled in the space between shoulder and neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her. 
Elfroot and hay, though he considered her more heaven than earth.

On dhea, vhenan. His breath on her neck felt like home.

A small whine escaped her as she turned to face him, eyelids fluttering happiness in morse. Let me stay here.

Please, Solas, vhenan, she purred, just 10 more hours.


By nightfall she had managed to steal three kisses from him. 
One left paint on her cheek, the other two she demanded in apology as she had wandered into the war room with a streak of green over her cheekbone.
Three tiny, little kisses. Not nearly enough, she thought.
He had chuckled at her when she pouted in mock anger and offered to help her drag the heavy couch to the balcony. 
He had insisted that they share a bottle of wine over dinner first.
After, he asked her:

What is it about the stars you long for?

Freedom, she answered, gesturing for him to help her lift the couch.

She had stopped halfway through the room, dropping the furniture with a thump and climbed over the plush pillows to give him four more, tiny, little kisses.
And two more. One more. 
For good measure.

She settled between his legs and rested her head against his chest as he handed her his book.

You have to hold it, he had said. If I am to hold you.

She told him colorful stories about the vast beyond, gesturing wildly to the different constellations. Never once did he remind her of the book.
Freedom, she told him. He almost felt it.
Silently they drifted, at home within each other. 

We have much to accomplish. Get some rest.

Read for me, just a little, emma lath. She picked up the book and found the page.
He read, gently stroking her arm when she had to turn the page.

She wished upon the falling stars for the smooth tenor of his voice to carry her into the fade, a lullaby for every night she had left to live.

Guardians of the Galaxy: Just Like Her

My attempt at putting some logic into a whole “Peter’s little sister existing in the GotG universe” thing…. doesn’t make sense XD But hell, you can’t fault me for trying. So in this one I tried to make this less of a ‘reader’ fic and more of an imaginary character’s inner monologue. Like some nameless character who’s supposed to be Star-Lord’s sister. But I kept it in the “you” form because it can still be interpreted as a reader fic for those who like that kind of thing. Good luck making sense of any of this XD

So this is about Peter’s little sister (you????) asking about the mom you shared but hardly knew. Based off an anon prompt.

Words: 1,195

You were reclining in the helm of the Milano, feet propped up on the autopilot-set controls. Peter was blasting the music mom had given him throughout the ship, as he usually did. After the first fifty times of listening to the rotation, the music really got to you. She seemed like a really cool person, especially with this kind of taste in music. 

“Hey, feet off, princess,” Peter walked in and nudged your boots with his hand. You were snapped from your reverie and obeyed, placing your feet flat on the ground. 

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, sitting down in one of the free seats in the control deck of the ship, facing you. 

You glanced over at him and shrugged, “No, not really. I mean, nothing bad. I’m just in a funk.”

“Aaand… is there anything I can do?” Peter asked, wringing his hands nervously. You grinned softly at him. Even though you’d only known each other as siblings for a few years, he still tried to take any bit of love he had in his power to make you feel at home. Hell, if either of you even had a real home in the first place. Still, he was always nervous about touchy subjects. Less so than someone like Rocket or Gamora, but still. God bless him for trying.

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Humans are weird: What to do when you can't get your homesick human a pet

Amilia stare out the window lost in the way the leaves of the tree just outside were waving in the gently breeze. The sunlight showing bursts of bright green against a background of dark foilage. It glistened almost like stars did against the dark background of empty space. A flash of feathers caught her gaze and she watched a birds startled flight from one tree to another. In the far distance massive snow topped mountains towered over the valley her window looked out too. Her eyes traced the path of a stream whose sours was hidden from sight.
A soft woosh indicated the door lock opening, and the observation deck flooded with red light. The image of Earth shimmered, giving way to the true view of vast space beyond.
“Apologies Amilia, I was unaware this deck was occupied.”
A Salidan stood in the door way, primary eyes flickering incandescently from yellow to red in a show of embarrassment.
The Salidan race were similar to humans, carbon based organisms with similar enough organs. They were tall and spindly, with four arms, two sets of eyes, skin in variations of the color purple, and three sets of lungs with a built in filtration system that was capable of filtering out elements detrimental to their bodily process. They came from a planet remarkably similar to earth, thought it lacked in Earth’s extreme biodiversity and violent weather systems. There’s was located in the GN-z11 galaxy, from which they were currently 6 billion lightyears away from.
“Axlan-yua,” Amilia smiled, “No harm done I’m guessing I didn’t register to your telepathic hoodoo.”
Axlan-yua frowned primary eye lids drooping in disappointment, his secondary eyes stared unendingy into her own. A trait Amilia had been told was known to cause discomfort in humans not used to interacting with Salidian’s. “No, unfortunately even spending so much time with you has not familiarized me to your brain patterns.”
His head tilted in a show of curiosity, an action Amilia was hesitant to tell him he had picked up from her, “Was that Earth you were looking at?”
Amilia smiled sadly, “Yes,” she said, “A place called Colorado.”
“May I inquire,” He seemed to hesitate, “are you suffering what they call “Home sickness”?“
Amilia sighed, and motioned to the soft seat across from her, telling her friend with body language that his questions were okay. The young Salidian relaxed his stiff posture, and sprawled out across from her.
“I don’t know Axlan, how can I be Homesick for a place I have never been?”
Axlan-yua’s primary eyes shifted to a deep green, which Amilia judged as introspective from her long association with her friends emotional coloring.
“I sometimes wish to step upon the soil of the planet my memory lines once walked, perhaps you merely long for memories buried within you genetic code?”
Amilia shrugged, “I don’t know Axlan…it’s possible.”
Axlan-yua reached an arm out to pat Amilia on the leg, “One day we will go to Dokkum, and we will go to Earth…and see if we can discover a cure to your mind sadness.”
Despite his reassurances Axlan-yua was worried for his juvenile human friend. He began spending his free time on the intergalactic academies library council researching those things that would make his friend happy.
Unfortunately pets were not allowed in the academy for students, though he HAD seen Amilia visiting some of the zoological professors animal companions. So he began researching things that made humans happy. As well as things that might trigger his friends genetic memories.
After desperately asking Sax, a Xycfra, who were insectoid types with perfect photographic memories with the ability to access a hive mind, for help he finally had a plan. The next time the merchant ships docked he handed his list of items to an Earth dealer.
The gruff looking man read the list with what could have been a confused frown, or and angry scowl (Axlan-yua wasn’t adept at reading humans he was in constant contact with).
“Don’t recall Salidian’s having a thing for scents,” the man said, with what Axlan-yua supposed was suspicion, “Your folks haven’t found a way to get sussed out on essential oils have ya?”
Axlan almost felt the need to blink his secondary eyes in a show of the human emotion shock, and he might of if his secondaries has eyelids, “No, Sir, essential oils don’t act as a drug on my species.” He hesitated before offering, “My human friend is sad.”
The man nodded in understanding, “Wanting to give ‘em a taste of Earth.” He said nodding in contemplation. “Wait here.”
He wandered into the back of his ship and was absent for a long while. When he came back out he had a box full of items.
“Here,” he said, “I threw some other things in as well,” and pulled a few packet with English writings on them, “This is a drink, kinda like tea, instructions are on the packet and this stuff goes innut you serve it hot like..ya know…always makes my daughter feel good when she’s blue.”
Axlan-yua nodded eagerly, and gathered the items.

When Axlan-yua told her to meet him in the observation pod four Amilia knew something was up. Salidian’s do NOT have good poker faces what the emotionally colored primary eyes and all. But he was her closest friend at the academy. And she new whatever it was it wouldn’t be bad. The room was lit like an earth twilight, and all the rooms graphic walls were ingaged in the middle part of the rooms light was being produced by a projection of a low fire, the sound system projecting the sounds the wood made while it burned….a gentle crackle and small pops.
It seemed like she could SMELL the fire smoke almost.
She gasped as she looked around her and realized that it appeared as though they were standing in a meadow. Surrounded by tall Douglas fir trees, and then the scent hit her faintly like lemons or pineapples but fresh and crisp…and somehow she knew this was what these trees smelled like.
In the background a low whooshing like blood constantly running within her ears with little bubbles, and that was the stream between the trees making that noise! She looked up and saw pink tinged clouds, and the first stars appearing in the sky, this was what the sky on earth looked like.
She turned to look at her friend, eyes wide in wonder, and the green happiness of his eyes let her know that if he was human his grin would be a mile wide.
“Sit Amilia, Sit!” He handed her a mug, with a thick milky brown liquid sloshing around in it. Floating upon the surface were small bits of stuff that looked like foam chunks.
With a small sniff her eyes widened in delight, “Hot chocolate!” She laughed happily.
She turned eyes wet with moisture to her friend, “Axlan, how did you do all this?”
Axlan-yua could feel the happiness radiating off of her. He could FEEL it! He was synching with his friends brain patterns.
His eyes whirled a rainbow of colors in excitement before setting back to happy green, “I could not take you to earth, so I brought earth to you.”

“And that,” Amilia told her enthralled children as they sat around the happily crackling fire, cheerfully munching a s'more, “Is how your Uncle Axlan and I began the installation of “World Rooms” on Intergalactic Academy Stations.“

_________________________________________ Team no sleep! Just an idea I had to write down.