The I.K. Method ⋆˙⟡ is a sensory-based shifting technique created specifically for the ADHD brain and those with Aphantasia. Rest assured, the technique was created to fit EVERYBODY. Let me tell you, the only skill you need is bluff because we will lie throughout the process. I think it will please “lazy” folks because as one of them, I made it as simple as possible. So here's the sauce!
⋮ ⌗ ┆ Level 1: The Spark (The "Wait, What?" Technique)
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
The brain is often stuck in a "loop" of birth reality intrusive thoughts (Especially the ADHD brain). To break this, you use the "Wait, What?" technique.
- The Action: Ask yourself a question that assumes you are already in your Desired Reality or Waiting Room.
- Examples: "Wait, why is the lighting so much softer than this in my WR?"
- The Goal: This forces the brain to "search" for a memory that hasn't even happened yet in the 3D, effectively "hooking" your consciousness into the Manifested Reality data stream.
For someone with Aphantasia, we skip "seeing" and move to "knowing." This is the Non-Visual Map.
- Spatial Awareness: Mentally acknowledge where objects are in your DR relative to your current body. Like at home you can direct yourself even with the lights off. For example; "The desk is to my left. The door is behind me." You don't need to see them; you just need to know they are there.
- Then, we use our senses: Take a physical sensation you feel right now (the hardness of a chair, the warmth of the room) and relabel it.
“This hardness isn't the living room couch; it’s the wooden bench in my BR.” (BR=birth reality, used instead of CR because CR affirms you haven't shifted)
- The Optional “Narrator”: If your mind wanders, narrate your actions in the third person. "They are sitting in the WR now, feeling the air change."
⋮ ⌗ ┆Level 3: The "Gravity Countdown"
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
This is the core movement of the I.K. Method. It uses the vestibular system (your sense of balance and weight) to trigger the shift.
The Sinking Descent (100 → 0)
- Use Case: Mostly to shift but you can do whatever you want.
- The Process: Count backward from 100 (I am assuming I am not the only one who imagines a downward movement when I count downward- or I might just be weird). With every number, feel your body becoming heavier.
- The Transition: By the time you reach 0, feel the floor vanish. You "sink" or "fall" through your current seat and land directly into the texture of your DR seat/bed.
⋆˚࿔ OR ⋆˚࿔
The Floating Ascent (0 → 100)
- Use Case: Recommended for reaching the Void State or shifting while staying awake mostly but you can use it as an asleep method too.
- The Process: Count upward from 0 (Same here!). With every count, feel a layer of weight "peeling off" your body. Until you become faceless and formless. (Particularly effective for the Void)
- The Transition: By 100, you feel yourself floating upward, disconnected from your physical body, entering the weightless blackness of the Void.
Failsafe: The “Desired Assumption” Technique
For my folks who fear their Birth Reality distraction. In this method you should simply relabel them (you gotta be creative!) Like, if you hear a fan, assume it is a coffee machine in your DR (go all in with the bluff!)
- The Rule: You never "stop" or "restart" because of a distraction.
And for mistakes in counting, pick up from the closest number you remember. The goal is relaxation and not to be worried.
this is by far one of the most well made, thought out, and overall well designed methods ive seen in a while. i hope you guys like this method as much as me and @linasweetgirl do˚. ᵎᵎ ♡ִֶ⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆˚.
Educate yourself and spread awareness with the help of these sites:
Al Jazeera
- This is a news site that gives constant updates and information on Palestine.
Decolonize Palestine
- This is a website that informs you about the history of Palestine, debunk myths, and gives out a lot of resources to look into.
Visualizing Palestine
- This site creates infographics that can help people visualize the statistics from data collected about Palestine. They are free to download and share around.
US Campaign for Palestinian Rights
- This website includes numerous campaigns and resources you can look into and support.
The Palestinian Museum Digital Archive
- This site features a collection of many things from Palestine that archives documents, letters, and other items that show the lives and experiences of Palestinians.
Ways you can donate to/support families in Palestine:
Arab.org
- Just do your daily clicks and you get to donate for free. Please take the time to donate to all of the causes.
Gaza Funds
- Every time you refresh the site, it leads you to a different GoFundMe page for the people who need help.
Care for Gaza
- This is an organization that sends aid out to Palestine, you can find more in their Twitter/X account. They also have a PayPal.
eSims for Gaza
- You can send an eSim to people in Palestine to help them connect and reach out.
Emergency Relief for Gaza
- This is a campaign that gives food, medical supplies, and other humanitarian aid to families from donations.
Medical Aid for Palestinians (MAP)
- They also give medical aid to the people in Palestine and you can also support by donating to them as well.
Palestine Children's Relief Fund (PCRF)
- Donate here to give funds and support to the children in Palestine as they specialize in pediatric care.
Google Docs/Spreadsheets:
Make sure to look at the other tabs within the spreadsheets as they lead to more options/resources!
Help Gaza
- This is a spreadsheet with a list of fundraisers for different families/causes that need support! Look through and donate when you can!
Operation Olive Branch
- This is a spreadsheet with many links and ways to help in the project! There are campaigns, fundraisers, volunteer work for other parts of the causes and such! Make sure to check it out!
★RESOURCE LINKS AND INFO★
- A google document made from Twitter/X user: para_docx. This includes links, resources, and information for the other ongoing genocides as well.
Some of these documents intersect and have similar resources and links, but I'm adding them just to make sure as they may also have some that aren't listed in this post either.
Let’s pretend I didn’t ghost y’all since last year, alright? ^-^"
Here’s a chunky post. Grab snacks, or just skip ahead to the end if you’re impatient.
Lots of folks are really devoted to visualizing their DR, but honestly, I’ve just realized that’s only half the story and kind of the weaker half, too. What actually matters is proprioception. Bless you.
In plain terms, proprioception is your built-in “where the fuck am I now?” sense.
That thing that lets you poke your own nose, eyes closed, without somehow smacking yourself in the face.
And I’d bet this thing is what could really help people shift. Without needing to visualize (a treat for my friends with aphantasia).
Visualization? It’s fine. Think of it as concept art, cool for vibes, inspiration, and motivation mostly.
But proprioception is feeling like you are somewhere vs. watching a movie about being somewhere.
Consider dreams for a second. They’re often weirdly fuzzy and disconnected, but you still know you’re somewhere else, not because the visuals are spot-on, but because you physically feel placed. You sense your weight, your orientation, where your limbs are.
Proprioception’s doing the really heavy lifting, while your brain is kinda busy generating random visual nonsense.
Still, everyone always seems to default to “visualize harder!”
Like, no? Not needed?
Sight’s just one sense, and honestly, it isn’t even in the top 2 of the most reliable ones.
Ask someone who’s blind if their world feels less solid or real just because they can’t see. (Actually, don’t bother them, but you get the idea.)
Visuals aren’t the full story. What you see isn’t even that real. Light hits the retinas, sends some electric signals, and your brain makes a guess:
“Yep, that’s green.”
But is it really? Or is “green” just your brain interpreting data and someone else sees something completely different?
Like the “the dress is blue & black/ no the dress is white & gold” situation. Both versions are correct and true, since their brain guessed the color based on the signal it got.
So my wild guess is that you don’t need crystal-clear mental images of your DR. At all.
Everything you see IRL is already just a very convincing and accurate guess.
We live in a culture that worships visuals, screens, selfies, “pics or it didn’t happen.”
When someone says “feel yourself in your DR,” our brain instantly translates that to “see myself there” and people start straining, trying to produce images while totally ignoring their actual sense of presence.
It’s like someone tells you to listen and you just stare harder at the speakers.
Then you get people thinking they can’t shift because the images aren’t clear enough (aphantasia again) when their sense of location is actually the one screaming, “We’re in CR!” but, well, they’ve been told to ignore it. Kinda.
Now, philosophical tangent.
Your brain doesn’t “know” reality. It gets inputs and makes guesses.
Sight? That’s light hitting retinas.
Sound? That’s vibrations.
Touch? Pressure.
The brain pieces these together as well as it can to go: “Okay, I’m in a room. Probably.”
Proprioception is the anchor. It’s telling your brain: “I’m here, facing this way, arms here, legs there. That was something hard, probably a wall I ran into.”
When you dream, the signals get scrambled.
When you dissociate, things feel fuzzy.
When you’re drunk, goodbye spatial awareness.
See the pattern?
Feeling “real” boils down to proprioception.
Vision? Easy to fool with optical illusions, hallucinations, VR headsets, whatever.
Proprioception? Not as easy, but doable.
So shifting is very likely not about tricking your eyes. It’s probably just convincing your brain you’re somewhere else and to finally update the fucking data stream because the previous one sucks ass.
Another wild part: your brain doesn’t have a body. It’s got a map of a body.
A simulation basically, constantly updated by electrical gossip from joints and muscles.
It’s like a controlled hallucination of where you are and it usually matches reality, but doesn’t have to.
“Where you are” isn’t fixed, it just tends to feel that way, since we are kinda conditioned to assume we are our body.
Every time you shift, you would simply be updating the way your brain interprets the data it gets.
New data stream, new location.
Your brain already flips between dream body and waking body every night, which are totally different maps, but both work.
If it’s that easy to switch… maybe switching to your DR body is just as easy?
Kind of a trip, melted my brain a tiny bit.
Also: you’re not even “in” your brain, really. You’re more like consciousness floating in the void, getting live updates from your meat suit?
Your whole sense of self is your brain’s best guess, all for survival.
We’re piloting a body with rather questionable software (brain piloting a meatsuit, anyone?).
Of course shifting works. The whole system is held together with tape and perception. Just retape the wires or something like that.
How to use the sense of location for shifting:
Body Scan - Don’t just notice tension. Really feel it.
“My shoulders are here, relative to my hips, taking up this much space.”
Map yourself. See how location is something you’re creating.
Phantom Limb Play - Puppeteer method anyone???
Move limbs without actually moving. Imagine extras, tail, wings, whatever works. Don’t try to see them. Just sense their weight, movement, momentum when they move.
Blind Navigation - Move around your DR with eyes closed. Don’t rely on visuals. Feel the distance you have left before running into a wall, the floor beneath you, objects, the whole room. Know your place without ever needing to look.
Some neuroscience stuff for further read (peer-reviewed/mainstream neuroscience):
On Reality as a Guess: Check out Anil Seth’s “Being You” or his TED talk on Controlled Hallucinations.
On Body Ownership: Look up the “Rubber Hand Illusion” and “Proprioceptive Drift.”
On Spatial Awareness: Search for “Peripersonal Space Multisensory Integration.”
Olaf Blanke Full Body Illusion: Full body illusions and out of body experiences
Thomas Metzinger: The Ego Tunnel: philosopher/neuroscientist who argues there is no "self," only a "transparent mental model" of a self.
Vestibular-Somatosensory Interference: technical term for when your balance and touch sense gets confused, leading to the feeling of floating or a limb changing shape or form.
Pokémon Go players unknowingly created billions of environmental scans now used to train military drone navigation systems for GPS-denied wa
Visual positioning systems now guide autonomous weapons where satellites can't reach.
Niantic's spin-off company, Niantic Spatial, transformed those gaming clips into a Visual Positioning System (VPS). Think GPS, but using camera vision instead of satellites. The system matches live video feeds against pre-built 3D maps to determine precise location—critical when enemies jam satellite signals.
In December 2025, Niantic Spatial partnered with defense contractor Vantor to integrate this ground-level navigation with aerial drone systems. The goal: unified air-to-ground positioning for military operations in "GPS-denied environments." Translation—your Squirtle hunt helped map terrain for autonomous weapons.
Summary: Y/N goes on the mission. It was supposed to be a simple mission…
Word Count: 6,255
Warnings: angst, little fluff, mention of blood
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
---
The Mission
At first, the mission unfolded like clockwork.
The team touched down on the outskirts of a remote Hydra outpost nestled deep in a mountainous region. Intel had flagged the facility for data extraction—nothing high-threat, mostly old storage, according to the briefing. Just a simple in-and-out. Surveillance disabled. Entry points mapped. The air was cool, thin, but quiet. Too quiet.
Y/N moved with the others through the tree line in a blur, her senses sharp, every muscle tensed. Even with her enhanced speed and strength, something about this place made her skin crawl. Wanda’s absence was like a silent echo in her chest, tugging at her instincts louder than anything else.
“Eyes up,” Steve’s voice came through the comms. “We’re approaching the eastern entrance.”
Y/N nodded, appearing beside Sam and Nat with supernatural ease, scanning the perimeter. They breached the door with minimal resistance. The corridors inside were dim, dust-covered, abandoned-looking—but not entirely empty. Y/N could feel it.
“Too quiet,” Nat muttered, checking the corners.
“Energy readings are spiking,” Sam said, holding up a scanner. “Something’s still live down here.”
They reached the data terminal without incident. Strange. Y/N started the extraction, her fingers a blur across the interface, while the others secured the area.
Then everything went to hell.
A sudden boom ripped through the silence. The ground trembled. Dust poured from the ceiling as a wall at the far end exploded inward. Reinforced blast doors hissed open—and behind them—
“Ambush!” Steve barked.
Dozens of Hydra operatives poured in, armed to the teeth and moving with disturbing precision. Automatic fire erupted. The team dove for cover.
Y/N was already moving. In a blur, she shot in front of Sam, arm outstretched—her fingers snapping closed around the bullets mid-air. One. Two. Three. Caught like they were nothing. Then, with a burst of speed, she launched forward, disarming three men in the blink of an eye and slamming one clean through a wall.
“We’ve been set up!” Nat shouted, ducking a blast.
Gunmen dropped from above, rappelling from vents and hidden shafts. It had all been a trap.
Y/N gritted her teeth, eyes darting back to the data terminal—78% downloaded.
“We have to hold until it’s done!” she yelled, tearing a chunk of metal from the wall and using it to block another barrage of bullets. She threw it like a discus, taking out a group of enemies in one clean arc.
But her mind wasn’t on the fight—not fully.
She was thinking about Wanda.
And the baby.
And how fast everything could be lost.
Her chest tightened. No matter how fast she was, how strong—she couldn't be in two places at once.
I have to survive this.
I have to go home to them.
And suddenly, surviving this mission became the only mission.
---
The hallway was barely holding together from the force of the battle. Y/N stood at the front of the team, chest heaving, adrenaline pumping. Her speed had cleared most of the path, and her strength had kept the walls from collapsing entirely.
“98%!” she called out, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Just hold a little longer!”
The terminal hummed beside her, screen flashing as the data download neared completion. Behind her, Steve and Nat held their ground while Sam covered the flank.
Suddenly, Tony’s voice crackled through the comms, urgent and sharp:
“Heads up—Vision and I have visuals on reinforcements. Not inside. Outside. And they’re not your average goons—these are enhanced.”
Vision’s voice followed, more controlled but just as serious:
“I count at least seven. They’re waiting for extraction to fail.”
Y/N’s heart dropped.
Before she could react, the terminal pinged—100%.
“Drive’s ready!” she shouted.
Sam grabbed it and turned, but a low hum began to vibrate through the floor.
Y/N froze.
“What is that?” she muttered, then realized,
The sound was familiar.
“Fall back—now!” she yelled, but it was already too late.
Her limbs felt heavy. Like molasses had filled her veins. She tried to run, to push forward—but her body didn’t obey. Her momentum died mid-step, and the blur of motion that usually trailed her fell still.
“What the hell—?” Steve called out, noticing her slow down.
Then came the sound.
Pop. Pop.
Two gunshots.
Sharp. Close.
Y/N staggered backward, breath catching in her throat. She looked down.
Blood bloomed across her side and lower abdomen.
The pain hit a second later, burning, white-hot.
“Y/N!” Sam shouted, diving toward her.
Y/N hit the ground hard, her vision swimming. Blood seeped through her suit—hot, fast, and too much.
She tried to move but her legs barely twitched. Whatever they hit her with… it was working. Her speed—her healing—it was all gone.
Nat was by her side in seconds, skidding to her knees. “Where are you hit?”
“Side... and ribs…” Y/N gritted out, clutching her abdomen. “Bullets are still in.”
Nat’s fingers were already working, applying pressure. “Alright. You’ll be okay. I just need to get them out.”
She tapped her comm, urgency in her voice. “Vision, we need immediate extraction. Y/N’s down—bullets lodged too deep to remove here. Vision, do you read?”
Static.
“Vision?” Nat repeated, louder now. “Come in. Y/N’s hit!”
More silence.
Sam and Steve were laying cover fire around them, but Nat’s eyes flicked to the sky. “Where the hell is he?”
Y/N’s breathing was shallow, ragged. “Nat…” she rasped. “He’s not answering?”
“No,” Nat said grimly. “But that doesn’t matter. We’ll handle it. I just need—”
Y/N gasped as Nat dug a blade into the first wound, her body convulsing. “AHHHHH—!”
“Hold still!” Nat snapped. “I have to get it out. Your body won’t heal with the metal in you!”
Y/N screamed again, eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched so hard it felt like they might crack. “It’s not working… dammit, Nat—it’s not working! There’s something wrong.”
Nat’s hand froze mid-motion. “What?”
“They did something. Slowed me down. Whatever it is, it’s still in my system. I can't heal until that bullet's gone…”
Nat looked down, heart pounding. She could feel the bullet—it was deep, but accessible. Maybe.
“Okay. Deep breath. You have to trust me.”
“I do,” Y/N whispered, clutching her shoulder. “But please—please—don’t let me die.”
Nat's expression softened just for a second. “You’re not dying. Not today. Not on my watch.”
Another call through the comms. “Vision! Where the hell are you?” Sam’s voice this time, urgent. “We need you down here!”
Nothing.
Nat bit back a curse and dug in again, ignoring the cry that tore from Y/N’s throat. Steve and Sam were closing ranks to protect them, enemies swarming. Time was running out.
“I’ve almost got it,” she said through clenched teeth, blood coating her gloves.
Y/N’s lips trembled, sweat slick on her brow. “Wanda… needs me… the baby…”
Nat froze. “What?”
But Y/N’s eyes were rolling back. Her grip loosening.
Nat forced herself to focus. “No time for questions,” she muttered. “Just hold on.”
Whatever was blocking Y/N’s powers—they needed to get it out fast.
---
Wanda’s POV
Wanda’s breath caught before the pain even registered.
It struck like lightning—sharp, violent, and wrong. Her knees buckled and she gripped the edge of the sink in her bathroom, the coffee cup slipping from her hand and shattering on the tile below.
Her vision blurred.
“No…” she whispered, one hand flying instinctively to her abdomen, the other to her chest. Her heart thundered wildly, a rhythm not entirely her own.
Y/N.
Something was wrong. So wrong.
She felt it through the bond—not a vague unease or a distant pulse of fear like before—but a surge, raw and red-hot, flooding her senses like fire. The pain, the panic, the searing heat of a wound that wasn’t hers but somehow was.
Her body curled forward, a cry ripping from her throat.
“Y/N—”
Wanda scrambled to her feet, stumbling toward the door. Her vision swam, her pulse chaotic. The nausea came again, but this time it wasn’t morning sickness. It was fear.
She could feel her.
Y/N’s pain.
Her helplessness.
Her scream.
Wanda’s hands shook as she pressed her palm to the wall, trying to ground herself. But grounding was impossible when the person who was your ground was out there bleeding.
The bond screamed in her blood.
Wanda gasped. “No—no, no, no—”
The baby. Y/N’s voice echoed in her soul. Wanda… needs me. The baby…
She staggered toward her nightstand, fumbling with her comm. “Steve—someone—tell me what’s happening!”
There was yelling in the background, static and gunfire, but no one answered her directly.
A cold chill crept up her spine, colder than the panic. She didn’t have time to question it.
Wanda's voice broke as she yelled again into the comm, "Where’s Y/N? Is she—is she okay?!"
Another wave of pain nearly knocked her down.
This wasn’t just injury.
This was a wound meant to sever.
But she wouldn’t let it.
“I’m coming,” she whispered, hands glowing red with magic that trembled and sparked wildly. “I’m coming detka.”
She pressed a trembling hand to her belly and then to her wrist, where Y/N’s name had always burned brightest.
“Just hold on.”
---
BACK TO THE TEAM
Y/N screamed as Natasha tried again, her gloved fingers slick with blood, shaking as she tried to reach the bullet lodged too deep in Y/N’s side.
“I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I can’t find it—” Nat hissed through gritted teeth, her voice straining against the chaos around them. “Where the hell is Vision?!”
“I CALLED HIM!” Sam’s voice came through the comms. “He’s not responding—he’s just hovering up there with Stark!”
Steve’s shield flew past, slamming into a Hydra soldier closing in. He dropped beside them to cover their position. “What’s wrong with him?!”
Y/N’s skin was pale, blood soaking her suit. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. “He’s not coming…” she said hoarsely, her eyes fluttering open, meeting Natasha’s. “He’s not coming.”
Nat looked down at her in horror. “Why would he—?”
“I don’t know…” Y/N whispered, her body jerking as another wave of pain hit. “Maybe he wants me to die…”
Nat froze, but only for a second. “No. No, don’t say that. Focus. Stay awake. We’ll fix this.”
Y/N shook her head weakly. “It hurts, Nat. I can’t… I can’t heal unless you get the bullets out.”
Her hand reached out blindly, fingers brushing Nat’s wrist. “Wanda… she felt it. I know she did. I felt her panic. I need to get back. I need to hold her. The baby—”
A choking sound escaped her throat, part sob, part scream, as another tremor of pain wracked her.
“I can’t die, Nat…” Y/N gasped, her eyes wild with desperation. “She needs me. The baby needs me. Please—please—get them out—”
Nat’s face twisted with emotion as she grabbed the med kit again. “I’m going to try. Just—just hang on, okay? Stay with me. Don’t you dare give up.”
Blood pooled beneath them.
Gunfire rang louder.
Smoke clouded the battlefield. Explosions from Hydra tech rattled the ground as Sam flew overhead, trying to suppress enemy fire. Steve was shouting commands, but his voice was drowned in the chaos.
Nat’s hands were soaked in blood. She couldn’t see the bullet—couldn’t feel it—and Y/N was slipping.
“I can’t get to it!” she shouted, panic now breaking through her usual cool.
Y/N’s eyes were fluttering closed, her lips pale and trembling. “Tell Wanda I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“No.” Nat grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look at her. “No goodbyes. You hear me? You’re not dying. I’m not letting you.”
But then another explosion hit nearby—closer. Dirt and metal rained over them. Steve threw his shield, taking the brunt of the shrapnel, but the noise was deafening.
And that was when Sam’s voice cracked through the comms, horrified.
“WE’VE GOT A NEW WAVE—RIGHT SIDE! ALL ENHANCED! SHIT—VISION’S STILL NOT MOVING!”
Nat’s jaw clenched. “What the hell is he doing?!”
“I don’t know! Tony’s trying to override something—he says Vision locked him out of the system!”
Y/N coughed hard, blood on her lips now.
“No, no, no—stay with me—stay with me!” Nat was shaking now, her voice breaking.
Then Y/N cried out—loud, guttural—as the dampener activated again, forcing her body into complete stillness, locking her abilities down even more.
“I can’t… move…” she gasped. “It’s spreading…”
Her body jerked, back arching as another pulse hit from the tech laced into the bullets inside her. Her speed was gone. Her healing stalled. Her strength fading.
“Wanda,” she breathed again. “She’s coming. I feel her. Please…”
But everything was slipping—her vision blurring, the world dimming—and still, Vision hovered above them, unmoving, watching as if he were a god among ruins.
Nat looked up, her fury nearly explosive.
“You bastard,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
And in that moment—everything tipped toward disaster.
A sudden pressure rippled through the air, thick and electric, like the calm before a storm.
Then—
A crack of red lightning exploded overhead, and in the next heartbeat, Wanda descended like fury itself, a scarlet streak tearing through the sky. She landed hard near the blast site, the ground trembling beneath her feet as her powers surged outward in a blinding pulse.
Her eyes, glowing red, scanned the chaos—but locked instantly on the only thing that mattered: Y/N.
Collapsed. Bleeding. Barely conscious in Natasha’s arms.
“Y/N!”
The scream that left Wanda's lips was raw, broken.
She sprinted forward and dropped to her knees, trembling hands hovering over Y/N’s blood-soaked side. Her magic sparked uncontrollably, crackling around her fingers.
“Wanda—” Natasha began, but Wanda barely heard her.
“What happened?” she choked out.
“Shot twice. Something tech-based is slowing her down—her healing isn’t working,” Nat answered quickly, voice tight. “I tried to pull the bullets out, but I couldn’t reach them.”
Wanda’s heart clenched. Her stomach turned, not from the nausea that had become her norm lately, but from pure panic. She felt Y/N’s pain through the bond like fire in her chest.
“I’ve got her,” Wanda whispered, lowering her hands until scarlet light enveloped Y/N’s abdomen.
“Wands—” Y/N gasped, body twitching. “You can’t… it hurts—”
“I know,” Wanda whispered shakily, “I know it does. But I have to. Please… hold on.”
The magic delved deep, guided by instinct and desperation. Wanda closed her eyes and breathed through the wave of emotion crashing through her—her mate’s pain, her baby’s life, her fear that she might lose both.
“Come on,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Come on, please…”
She felt the first bullet—foreign and cold—and pulled. It scraped through muscle, then finally popped free, clattering to the dirt.
Y/N screamed, her back arching, but her eyes fluttered open for a moment.
“Just one more,” Wanda whispered, tears falling freely now. “Then your body can start healing. I promise.”
Scarlet magic trembled as Wanda reached for the second bullet. It was deeper, wedged in tight.
Behind her, Nat was holding pressure on the wound. “Wanda, she’s losing too much blood—”
“I know,” Wanda snapped, then softened. “I know. I feel it. I feel everything.”
She cradled Y/N’s cheek with one hand, steadying her, while her other hand worked the bullet loose with delicate, precise pulses of red.
“Don’t you dare leave me,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Not when I’m carrying our baby. Not when we just started.”
Then—with a final surge of light—the second bullet tore free.
Y/N gasped, then coughed weakly, color beginning to return to her cheeks as her body started to heal.
Wanda let out a sob of relief, gathering her into her arms and holding her tight.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered again and again, pressing her lips to Y/N’s forehead. “We’re okay now. You’re okay. We’re okay.”
She didn’t let go—not even when the sounds of battle still echoed in the distance.
Because in her arms was everything.
Her soulmate.
Her future.
Their child.
And nothing would ever take that from her.
---
The ground was scorched in patches, blackened by blasts and collapsed tech. Gunfire and the roar of enhanced enemies echoed across the battlefield, the mission having spiraled fully out of control.
Steve’s voice crackled over the comms—strained, breathless.
“Wanda—we’re getting overwhelmed! There’s at least six more enhanced coming from the east—super strength, energy manipulation, some kind of shielding. I can’t hold them off alone!”
Wanda turned her head sharply, heart pounding in her chest. Scarlet crackled around her like a storm barely held in check. Behind her, Y/N lay still—her breathing shallow, her body slowly healing, but not fast enough.
“Stay with her,” Wanda said to Natasha without looking. “Don’t let her move.”
Nat nodded, positioning herself over Y/N with a weapon drawn, gaze flickering between her fallen friend and the advancing enemy line.
Wanda stood slowly, power rippling around her in waves. Her fingers flexed at her sides as she looked toward the approaching threats—faces twisted in Hydra armor, masks glowing, eyes feral with aggression. They were enhanced and coordinated. This wasn’t a random ambush. It was a planned assault.
Scarlet power surged behind her eyes.
They were coming for them.
For Y/N.
For their baby.
And that made them a threat Wanda could not afford to let live.
She rose into the air, her movements graceful and terrifying, arms outstretched. “You don’t get to touch my family.”
She launched forward in a burst of red lightning, colliding with the enhanced before they could close in on Steve. Chaos exploded—energy beams ricocheted through the sky, but Wanda moved like a force of nature, tearing through them with a fury born of fear and love.
Steve, catching his breath, turned toward her briefly. “Thank God…”
But the tide hadn’t fully turned yet. Not with how many there were.
Back by the rubble, Natasha glanced down at Y/N. The blood flow had slowed. Her chest rose and fell, but her eyes were barely cracked open.
“Y/N,” Nat said urgently, touching her cheek. “Come on. Wake up.”
Y/N’s fingers twitched.
A broken breath escaped her lips. “W-Wanda…”
“She’s fine,” Nat lied through her teeth. “But she needs backup. She needs you.”
Y/N gritted her teeth. Her limbs were like stone, her body sluggish from the tech that had slowed her down. But her healing had started now that the bullets were gone—pain radiated through her ribs as bones began to knit, muscle stretching back into place.
Her fingers curled into the dirt. She forced herself to move.
For Wanda.
For the baby.
Because her soulmate was out there risking everything—and she wasn’t about to let her fight alone.
Y/N groaned as she shifted, her hand pressing to the half-healed wound in her side. Her vision swam, but she forced herself upright, swaying on her feet. Blood still stained her clothes, and her muscles ached like fire—but her healing had started. Her speed was coming back, little by little.
“She’s pregnant,” Y/N rasped, her voice sharp and trembling. Her eyes locked onto the red storm of chaos swirling in the distance—Wanda in full force. “You need to get her out of there.”
“Y/N—”
“Now, Nat!”
Without waiting for another word, Y/N shot forward, pain ricocheting through her body as she pushed her legs to move at near full speed. The speed inhibitor had weakened, and the moment she broke through the last of its grip, everything clicked into place—her strength, her purpose, her need to reach Wanda.
Wanda was still holding her own, throwing back enhanced enemies with brutal force, her magic wild and lethal. But even she was starting to show signs of strain. Her breathing was erratic, her movements slightly slower, protective instincts clashing with growing exhaustion.
Just as one of the enhanced flanked her from behind, raising a plasma blade to strike—
A blur slammed into him, sending his body flying into a heap of twisted metal.
Wanda spun around just as Y/N skidded to a halt in front of her, blood on her lips and fury in her eyes.
“Detka!” Wanda’s voice cracked with panic. “You shouldn’t be up!”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Y/N snapped, chest heaving. “You’re pregnant, Wanda. Get out. Now.”
Wanda looked like she might argue—until she saw the blood still leaking through Y/N’s side.
“Y/N—”
“No. I’m not leaving you, but I am getting you out of this fight.” She gritted her teeth, eyes burning into hers. “Please. For our baby.”
Wanda’s breath hitched.
Then she nodded.
But before they could move, another wave of Hydra reinforcements broke through the smoke.
Y/N stepped forward, shielding Wanda with her body.
“You get her out,” she said to Steve and Natasha over comms. “I’ll hold them off.”
Wanda’s eyes flared red as the enemy closed in. “No,” she said, her voice deadly quiet.
Y/N’s heart clenched. “Wanda—”
“I’m not leaving you,” she snapped, stepping up beside her. Her hand slipped into Y/N’s, and her grip was firm despite the tremble in her fingers. “Don’t ask me to. Not again. Not now.”
The world around them raged — Hydra soldiers, enhanced enemies, smoke, and gunfire — but in that moment, all Y/N saw was her.
The woman she loved. The woman carrying their child.
And she looked fierce. Terrified, but unyielding.
“You’re pregnant,” Y/N said, pleading, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “If something happens to you—”
“Something did happen,” Wanda cut in. “To you. And I felt every second of it. You think I can just walk away from that? From you?” Her voice cracked, and her other hand pressed to her stomach for a brief moment. “We’re bonded. You feel like home. I can’t leave you here to fight alone. I won’t.”
Another explosion rocked the ground behind them. Steve’s voice shouted something through the comms, but neither of them listened.
“I don’t care if the sky falls, Y/N,” Wanda said. “I’m staying with you.”
Y/N blinked hard. Her wounds throbbed. Her legs barely held her upright. But her heart… her heart ached with so much love for this woman that she could hardly breathe.
“Fine,” she whispered, voice hoarse but firm, “but you stay behind me and Steve.”
Wanda nodded, lips trembling as she blinked away the tears she refused to shed here. Not in front of their enemies. Not when the one she loved was still bleeding, still shaking, still standing — for her.
Y/N turned, eyes scanning the battlefield through the smoke and chaos. “Steve! On me!”
He was already moving, bloodied but alive, his shield up as he carved through the thick of the enhanced soldiers trying to push forward. At Y/N’s call, he redirected, heading straight for them.
“Got you,” Steve called, urgency in his voice. “Fall in!”
Y/N took Wanda’s hand for just one more second, squeezing it — grounding herself in it — before letting go.
“Stay back,” she told her again. “And if I fall, you run. You protect our baby. Promise me.”
Wanda looked like she might argue again, but something in Y/N’s voice — in the quiet command of it — made her nod once.
“I promise,” she whispered.
Then Y/N was gone in a blur of speed, still slowed but pushing through the pain, through the fire in her legs and the burn in her chest. Steve covered her flank. Wanda’s magic surged behind them, glowing scarlet, protecting their backs.
But the low pulse came again—another speed-blocker wave.
Y/N’s legs locked mid-run.
Her scream caught in her throat as she collapsed, tumbling hard, her momentum shattered. Before she could recover, enhanced agents surrounded her. Hydra operatives dragged her toward the trees.
Wanda screamed.
Her eyes glowed red, her magic ready to lash out, to burn the world to get to her.
But suddenly—
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, locking her in place.
"Let me go!" she yelled, thrashing wildly, magic pulsing and flaring. “Y/N!”
“Wanda,” came the unnervingly calm voice of Vision.
She froze for half a second, shocked. “Where the hell have you been?! Let go of me—she's down there—!”
He didn’t answer. Instead, with a swift, calculated movement, he pulled a small syringe from his belt and stabbed it into her neck.
Wanda's breath hitched. “Wha—?”
Her magic sparked, faltered.
The world tilted.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly as her body began to go limp. “You’re not thinking clearly. I can’t let them take you too.”
She slumped against him, her eyes fluttering, her arms wrapping protectively over her stomach even in unconsciousness.
Vision carried her onto the quinjet.
Sam and Nat turned, startled, as he emerged with Wanda in his arms.
“Where’s Y/N?!” Sam demanded.
Vision didn’t answer. He just shook his head once—expression unreadable.
“We’re not leaving without her—” Nat started, stepping forward.
“She’s gone,” Vision said flatly. “We have to go. Now.”
“She’s not dead!” Sam shouted.
Vision’s voice sharpened, cold. “She is compromised. And this one—” he motioned to the unconscious Wanda in his arms— “is all that matters right now.”
Nat’s eyes narrowed. Sam clenched his jaw, furious.
Just then, the quinjet hatch opened again, and Steve climbed aboard, urgency in his movements.
“Go,” he said firmly, breathing hard.
Sam hesitated, looking at Steve, then nodded.
As the engines roared to life and the quinjet began to lift off, Steve cursed under his breath, voice tight with anger and helplessness, “We left her behind…”
Vision didn’t respond, his expression unreadable as the jet disappeared into the clouds with Wanda in his care.
---
The quinjet’s ramp hissed open as it touched down at the Avengers Compound, its landing gear trembling slightly with the weight of tension inside. At the same time, Tony’s suit clanked against the tarmac as he landed hard nearby, his faceplate sliding open as he marched forward, eyes blazing.
He didn’t wait for pleasantries.
“The hell were you doing up there, Vision?” Tony snapped, striding up just as the others disembarked. “You went dark in the middle of the mission. You blocked my feed—mine. No comms, no HUD link. You disappeared.”
Vision stepped down from the ramp slowly, carefully, carrying the still-unconscious Wanda in his arms. His face was neutral, impassive, even as Tony got in his path.
“I was caught up with Hydra agents,” he said smoothly. “I couldn’t respond.”
“Bullshit,” Tony said without hesitation. “You’re a walking satellite dish. You could’ve blinked Morse code if you wanted to. And don’t tell me you got overwhelmed—we both know that’s not even remotely possible unless you wanted to be.”
Nat stepped in, placing a calming hand on Tony’s arm. “Tony—”
But Tony shrugged her off. “No. We left Y/N behind. Because of him. Because no one knew where the hell he was.”
While Tony was still locked in a heated standoff with Vision, the medics arrived with a stretcher, urgency in their steps. One of them gently took Wanda from Vision’s arms, eyes flicking to her pale face, her limp form.
“She’s stable,” one medic noted after a quick scan, “but her vitals are all over the place. We need to run a full checkup immediately.”
Natasha’s jaw tensed. She didn’t say anything, but the way she turned on her heel and followed the medics said everything.
Inside the medbay, Wanda was quickly hooked up to monitors. Her heartbeat echoed steadily in the room, but her eyelids didn’t flutter. She looked so small, too still, and it made Nat’s chest ache.
Bruce arrived a few minutes later, pulling on gloves, his brow already creased with concern. “What happened to her?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Nat replied, voice tight. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the door was closed before continuing, her voice low. “There’s something else you should know… I think Wanda might be pregnant.”
Bruce froze. “Wait—what?”
“Y/N told me while she was bleeding out in the field,” Nat said, biting down the emotion in her voice. “She was begging me to get Wanda out, said the baby needed her. She looked terrified.”
Bruce ran a hand down his face, eyes moving toward Wanda again. “Damn. Okay. I’ll run a full scan, but I’ll do it quietly—no one else finds out until Wanda wakes up and tells us herself.”
Nat nodded. “Thanks. And Bruce?”
“Yeah?”
“Something’s wrong. I don’t just mean with Wanda. Vision didn’t respond on purpose. Y/N is still out there because of him. We need to find her fast.”
Bruce gave her a grim nod before getting to work, while Nat stayed by Wanda’s side, gripping her hand.
“Come on, Wanda, wake up,” Natasha whispered, her thumb brushing gently across the back of Wanda’s hand. “She needs you. The baby needs you. And we need answers.”
The room was quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors. Bruce worked quickly but carefully, scanning Wanda’s vitals with a portable device, already setting up for more in-depth testing. He didn’t ask any more questions—he knew better than to speak until they had facts. But the weight of Nat’s words hung heavy in the air.
Outside, the storm hadn’t calmed.
Tony was still pressing Vision, his voice sharp and full of disbelief.
“You blocked me out. You blocked me, Vision. That’s not a glitch, that’s a choice.”
Vision remained stoic, almost eerily calm. “I was overwhelmed by the Hydra units. I made a judgment call.”
“A judgment call that left Y/N behind?” Tony snapped. “A judgment call that somehow left Wanda unconscious and drugged out of her mind?”
Steve stood a few feet away, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He hadn’t said much—not yet. But the tension in his jaw and the dark storm in his eyes promised that he wasn’t buying any of it either.
“I acted in Wanda’s best interest,” Vision said, coldly. “She was in danger.”
“And Y/N?” Steve finally asked, voice low but heavy. “She wasn’t?”
There was no answer. Just silence.
And it was all the confirmation Tony and Steve needed to know something was off.
Back inside the medbay, Wanda stirred.
Nat shot upright.
A flicker beneath her eyelids, a twitch of her fingers.
Then Wanda’s lips parted in a small gasp as her head turned weakly toward Nat.
“Y/N…” she croaked, her voice hoarse and broken. “Where’s… Y/N?”
Nat squeezed her hand, trying to steady her own heart. “We’re going to find her, Wanda. I promise.”
But as Wanda’s eyes fluttered open, filling with confusion, pain—and dread—the color drained from her face.
“No…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, no—Vision…”
Her body jolted as the memory returned all at once—her struggling to get to Y/N, the desperation in her chest, Vision grabbing her, holding her back… then the prick of something sharp in her neck before everything went dark.
She sat up abruptly, gasping, her hands flying to her stomach. “The baby—oh God, the baby—”
“Wanda—hey—Wanda, breathe,” Nat said quickly, gently pushing her back down with steady hands. “You’re okay. They’re okay.”
Wanda blinked, her chest heaving, tears welling in her eyes. “They?”
Nat froze for half a second, then cursed herself internally.
Bruce turned from the monitors, giving Nat a quiet nod. “The scans confirmed it. You’re carrying twins, Wanda. And they’re both strong. Healthy heartbeats.”
Wanda’s hand remained frozen over her belly, as though afraid to move. “I didn’t know,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Her wide eyes shifted from Bruce to Nat, brimming with confusion. “Wait—how did you…?”
She looked at Nat sharply now, a tear slipping down her cheek. “We didn’t tell anyone. Not yet. Not even the team.”
Nat’s expression softened, her voice lowering with a kind of reverence. “You didn’t have to.”
Wanda’s heart skipped. “Y/N?”
Nat nodded. Her throat tightened as she remembered the blood, the panic, the raw desperation in Y/N’s voice. “After she got shot… while I was trying to stop the bleeding, she begged me to get you out. Said you needed to be safe… that the baby needed you.”
Wanda covered her mouth, a quiet sob escaping.
“She was so scared, Wanda,” Nat whispered, blinking quickly. “But she wasn’t afraid of dying. She was afraid something would happen to you. To them.”
Wanda leaned forward, clutching her stomach as if to shield her children with her own body. Her shoulders shook, but her resolve was building beneath the grief.
“She still doesn’t know it’s twins,” Wanda choked out between sobs. “We haven’t even been to the doctor yet. We were waiting for the next off-week, to go together…”
Her voice broke on the last word. Nat reached out, placing a steadying hand on Wanda’s back.
“Then we’ll make sure she hears it from you,” Nat said softly. “When we get her back.”
Before Wanda could respond, the medbay doors burst open.
Vision stood there, his expression unreadable, eyes locking on Wanda immediately. “Where is she? I need to see her.”
Wanda stiffened, and for a long moment she didn’t say a word.
Then she stood, slowly, protectively placing herself between Vision and the monitors still softly displaying her babies’ heartbeats.
“You drugged me,” she hissed, voice cold and trembling with rage. “You drugged me, and you carried me away from the person I love while she was bleeding out in a war zone!”
Vision’s face remained neutral, but his eyes flickered faintly. “You were in danger. You weren’t thinking clearly.”
“You don’t get to decide what I’m thinking,” Wanda snapped, magic crackling at her fingertips now, glowing faint red. “You don’t get to touch me without my consent. You don’t get to sedate me like I’m some experiment that’s gone too far.”
Bruce stepped forward cautiously. “Alright, that’s enough—”
“No, Bruce,” Wanda said without looking at him, her gaze fixed on Vision like a blade. “He did this. He left Y/N behind. He put his hand on me like I was his property. And for what?”
“You are my property,” Vision snapped, his voice suddenly rising — cold and sharp like broken glass.
The room fell deathly silent.
Bruce froze. Nat took a step forward, instinctively placing herself just a fraction in front of Wanda. Even the medics, silent in the background, looked up in shock.
“You were created from the Mind Stone just as I was,” Vision continued, his tone hardening with every word. “You and I are bonded by something beyond the primitive nonsense of soulmates. That mark on your wrist? It's nothing. A biological coincidence that humans cling to for meaning.”
Wanda’s lips parted slightly, but no words came. Her entire body tensed.
“She manipulated you,” Vision said, eyes glowing faintly now as he stepped closer. “Y/N saw your vulnerability and exploited it. And now that she’s out of the way—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Wanda said, her voice a low growl.
“She was always in the way. Always trying to steal you. Poison your mind. But now she’s gone, and we can finally—”
“No!” Wanda’s voice cracked through the medbay like a whip, laced with a surge of red energy that exploded outward and knocked Vision back into the wall with a bone-rattling crash. Monitors beeped wildly. Lights flickered overhead.
Wanda stood in front of the bed, trembling, her hand instinctively clutching her abdomen.
“You’re not bonded to me. Yes, I felt a connection because of the Mind Stone, but we were never bonded,” she spat. “You don’t own me. And I was a fool—for ever being engaged to you in the first place.”
Vision pushed himself up slowly, smoke rising from the wall behind him. His synthetic face contorted with something cold and twisted.
“You are confused,” he said, stepping forward again, unwavering. “Y/N will die soon—if she’s not already dead. And then you’ll realize—”
Wanda’s eyes went wide before he could finish. She gasped, a sharp cry escaping her throat as her knees buckled beneath her. Her hand flew to her chest, pain ripping through her with terrifying intensity. Not hers—Y/N’s.
“Wanda!” Nat called out just as she saw her sway.
Before Wanda could collapse fully to the floor, Nat lunged forward and caught her in her arms.
“Bruce!” Nat shouted, voice high and urgent. “She’s in pain—get something—now!”
Wanda clutched at her chest, her face pale, sweat blooming across her forehead. Her lips moved, barely forming a sound: “Y/N…”
Bruce rushed to her side, barking orders to the medics, already reaching for the sedative and scanner. Wanda’s entire body trembled in Nat’s hold, magic sparking erratically from her fingertips, reacting to the panic and pain rolling through her.
“It’s Y/N,” Wanda sobbed, barely conscious, her voice hoarse and breaking. “She’s in pain—I can feel her. She’s hurting—please—”
“I know,” Nat whispered, holding her tighter. “I know, we’ve got you. Just hold on.”
Wanda cried out again, her body arching as another wave of Y/N’s agony surged through the bond. The lights above flickered wildly, and the nearby monitors sparked with static. Bruce injected the sedative into her arm with steady hands, his jaw clenched.
“Her heart rate’s spiking—adrenaline’s flooding her system,” he muttered. “She’s going to crash if we don’t get her calm.”
But it wasn’t Wanda’s fear doing this—it was the bond. Y/N’s suffering was bleeding into her like fire through a cracked dam. Wanda’s fingers dug into her abdomen protectively, even as her body fought to stay upright.
“She’s still alive,” Wanda gasped. “I can feel her—Bruce, please—don’t let her die.”
Bruce hesitated for the briefest moment, then met Nat’s eyes. “We need to keep Wanda stable. But if what she’s saying is true, we need to find Y/N now.”
“I’ll tell Tony,” Nat said, still cradling Wanda. Her gaze shifted to the door where Vision had stood seconds ago—but he was gone.
Have you ever wondered what it takes to get a technology ready for space? The NASA TechRise Student Challenge gives middle and high school students a chance to do just that – team up with their classmates to design an original science or technology project and bring that idea to life as a payload on a suborbital vehicle.
Since March 2021, with the help of teachers and technical advisors, students across the country have dreamed up experiments with the potential to impact space exploration and collect data about our planet.
So far, more than 180 TechRise experiments have flown on suborbital vehicles that expose them to the conditions of space. Flight testing is a big step along the path of space technology development and scientific discovery.
The 2023-2024 TechRise Challenge flight tests took place this summer, with 60 student teams selected to fly their experiments on one of two commercial suborbital flight platforms: a high-altitude balloon operated by World View, or the Xodiac rocket-powered lander operated by Astrobotic. Xodiac flew over the company’s Lunar Surface Proving Ground — a test field designed to simulate the Moon’s surface — in Mojave, California, while World View’s high-altitude balloon launched out of Page, Arizona.
Here are four innovative TechRise experiments built by students and tested aboard NASA-supported flights this summer:
1. Oobleck Reaches the Skies
Oobleck, which gets its name from Dr. Seuss, is a mixture of cornstarch and water that behaves as both a liquid and a solid. Inspired by in-class science experiments, high school students at Colegio Otoqui in Bayomón, Puerto Rico, tested how Oobleck’s properties at 80,000 feet aboard a high-altitude balloon are different from those on Earth’s surface. Using sensors and the organic elements to create Oobleck, students aimed to collect data on the fluid under different conditions to determine if it could be used as a system for impact absorption.
2. Terrestrial Magnetic Field
Middle school students at Phillips Academy International Baccalaureate School in Birmingham, Alabama, tested the Earth’s magnetic field strength during the ascent, float, and descent of the high-altitude balloon. The team hypothesized the magnetic field strength decreases as the distance from Earth’s surface increases.
3. Rocket Lander Flame Experiment
To understand the impact of dust, rocks, and other materials kicked up by a rocket plume when landing on the Moon, middle school students at Cliff Valley School in Atlanta, Georgia, tested the vibrations of the Xodiac rocket-powered lander using CO2 and vibration sensors. The team also used infrared (thermal) and visual light cameras to attempt to detect the hazards produced by the rocket plume on the simulated lunar surface, which is important to ensure a safe landing.
4. Rocket Navigation
Middle and high school students at Tiospaye Topa School in LaPlant, South Dakota, developed an experiment to track motion data with the help of a GPS tracker and magnetic radar. Using data from the rocket-powered lander flight, the team will create a map of the flight path as well as the magnetic field of the terrain. The students plan to use their map to explore developing their own rocket navigation system.
The 2024-2025 TechRise Challenge is now accepting proposals for technology and science to be tested on a high-altitude balloon! Not only does TechRise offer hands-on experience in a live testing scenario, but it also provides an opportunity to learn about teamwork, project management, and other real-world skills.
“The TechRise Challenge was a truly remarkable journey for our team,” said Roshni Ismail, the team lead and educator at Cliff Valley School. “Watching them transform through the discovery of new skills, problem-solving together while being driven by the chance of flying their creation on a [rocket-powered lander] with NASA has been exhilarating. They challenged themselves to learn through trial and error and worked long hours to overcome every obstacle. We are very grateful for this opportunity.”
Are you ready to bring your experiment design to the launchpad? If you are a sixth to 12th grade student, you can make a team under the guidance of an educator and submit your experiment ideas by November 1. Get ready to create!
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
HI DOGMAN!!!! okay okay first of all i absolutely ADORE your game, its genuinely my favorite game ever, you are so inspiring and your humor is MMMMMMM 10/10 thank you for living
I'm curious about the technical side of things, I know you used RPG Maker, but what plug-ins did you use and how hard would you say it is to make a visual novel is on there?
Ayy, glad to hear you like my work!
Too many plugins to list. If you wanna see which ones I used, they're in the www/js folder of your dt installation. Hell, you can copy the whole js folder into a new RPG Maker project, open the plugin manager and it'll just highlight the ones the game currently uses (tmk there's a few that I used but then removed still lingering in the files) and show you the settings I use too.
There's a few subtle code changes outside of that file, but just for little stuff, like one thing I'll mention in a bit.
As for how hard it is to use... The majority of the work using it is actually pretty easy once you get the hang of the basics. Entering dialogue isn't at all hard once you memorize the formatting codes and once you get the hang of using the picture commands, you can pretty much do the basics of what I do.
While my engine choice is unconventional, there were good reasons I wound up choosing it as my engine of choice in both 2016 and 2019, starting both DSaF and DT. That being said, I find a lot of the tedium comes from working around the engine's limitations.
The most notable example is the fact there's no good way I know of to preload images/music. If you look at DT's code, every time a pose is rendered, the NEXT poses needed are rendered on a backplane specifically so when they're needed, they don't flicker by default when they render (which happens all over the DSaF series.)
I also changed the filepath for the track the game normally pulls from for background noises to use the main music folder and basically swap between the actual music track and this second looping track to make music load instantly on change, something else I never figured out in DSaF.
There's technically a command that's meant to preload assets, but I've found it's not reliable. There's also preloader plugins but none of the ones I've personally tested don't shit the bed on specific systems at best, or leak memory due to not being able to let go of assets when they're no longer needed. The hacky way I do it was genuinely the only method that worked reliably on every system.
That's really the long and short of it. You could probably import the www/data folder too if you're curious on what the code actually looks like on each map.
Pedrotober - Day Three: Reed Richards, Fantastic Four - First Steps
pairing: reed richards (fantastic four : first steps) x f!reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: mutual pining, flirting, younger!reed, fluff.
main pedrotober masterlist
check out my ko-fi to leave some love
You’d been research partners with Reed for months now. He was just as involved and embedded in your hypothesis as you were—both barely able to leave the lab. The last two weeks had consumed you both: long nights, far too many coffee runs, sometimes mornings with you both asleep next to each other—faces stuck to your notes, snoring, sitting upright in those creaky old lab stools that you both had no idea how you didn't fall off of.
This morning was the third night this had happened in the last couple of weeks.
You woke to the sound of a door slamming down the hall. You sat up—neck stiff, throat dry, paper slightly stuck to your face, and glanced at the clock hanging above the chalkboard:
5:54 AM
That woke you up like a cold splash of water.
“Shit–” you shot out of your seat and started gathering papers frantically, “Reed, wake up!”
Reed grumbled and swallowed, mumbling, “Five more minutes…”
You hysterically chuckled, shoving papers into a folder, “It’s 5 minutes to 6... in the morning…”
Yep. That did it.
He shot up and stumbled backward, instantly waking up, “Fuck—” He joined you in gathering scraps of notes just as frantically, “How far is the office?”
“If we run or walk?” You joked, glancing his way.
He grinned, always appreciating the way you could turn things like this more lighthearted than he could. He was always so square, so technical. There wasn’t room in his mind to be irrational, spontaneous, reckless—but you? You did it within the margins. You seemed to live on the edge but still be able to remain secure. He was a different person around you—with you.
He liked the person he was around you.
He shoved his folder into his bag and quickly wrapped the strap over himself, grabbing his suit jacket off the coat rack and sticking his tie in his shirt, between the buttons to prep for your likely marathon, “Come on, if we leave now, we can act like we didn’t wake up in the lab... again…” He smirked.
“One sec,” You stuck your folder into your bag and did the same, looping it around your frame before quickly tying up your hair into a loose bun.
You looked breathtaking—taking Reed's breath away as he watched you. He was stuck where he was, staring at where you just stood—jaw slightly slacked, face flushed, pulse suddenly racing. It was like you were moving in slow motion. He felt that he was witnessing something sacred in the beauty of your appearance.
“Ok, let’s go.” You said, quickly heading for the front door of the lab. You turned around when your hand landed on the door, “Reed? You coming?”
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair quickly, “Yeah—yeah sorry, coming!” he started jogging towards you.
The two of you practically ran down the hall, across a courtyard, and down several hallways in the next building before finally getting to the auditorium you needed to be at.
You were both out of breath, flushed, and bent over with your hands on your knees, “I take it you’re never this late?” You said, looking at him, a small giggle bubbling up.
He shook his head, his breath heaving in and out as he tried catching his breath, “Never.”
You took a few deep breaths and straightened your posture, your breath coming more even. “Okay, so we need to highlight our findings with the lensing data first by tying it back to the simulation models, and then emphasize the need for extended observation time, right?”
Reed nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag across his shoulder, swallowing to even his breath out. “Exactly. You lead with the maps. They’ll see the proof in the visuals.”
You hummed, distracted as your eyes flicked down to his tie—crooked from your mad dash across campus. Without thinking, you reached up and tugged him closer by the edge of his lapel.
“Hold still, gotta fix this,” you murmured.
He froze, breath hitching as your fingers brushed his chest, straightening the knot like you’d done a dozen times before in the last several months—before meetings, before symposiums, before presentations. It was second nature by now, something small and habitual, but lately it began to feel different. The air between you shifted as your gaze drifted up, your knuckles grazing his throat.
You met his eyes, and for the first time, the simple act didn’t feel like caretaking—it felt like something else. Something neither of you had dared to name.
His pupils widened, lips parting slightly. The silence stretched—charged and fragile—until the office door swung open.
“Dr. Richards? Dr. Y/N? They’re ready for you.” The secretary’s polite voice broke through the moment like glass shattering.
You both jolted back a couple of steps, your hands falling quickly, his throat clearing as though to chase away the ache left behind.
“Thank you,” Reed said hoarsely. You grabbed your folders out of your bag, and together you stepped inside.
The panel sat in a semicircle of polished oak—three men in tailored suits, two women with identical tight smiles. They barely looked up as you entered.
“Dr. Richards, Dr. Y/N,” one of the men greeted, but his eyes only flickered over you before landing fully on Reed. “We’ve reviewed your proposal—why don't you walk us through your data?”
You and Reed exchanged a glance before he nodded for you to begin, the plan you’d agreed upon. You stepped forward, voice calm, confident.
“Thank you for meeting with us. Our research centers on gravitational lensing as a method for mapping dark matter distributions—”
“Miss Y/N,” another man interrupted, adjusting his glasses. “Could you clarify whether these observations were conducted independently or under Dr. Richards’ supervision?”
You blinked. “Pardon me, but it’s Doctor,” you corrected automatically, forcing a polite smile. “And yes, the observations were conducted collaboratively. Together we both—”
“Yes, of course,” the first man said dismissively, cutting you off, turning back to Reed. “Dr. Richards, perhaps you could expand on the computational modeling?”
Reed hesitated, glancing at you. “Actually, that’s my partner, Dr. Y/N’s area. She designed and implemented the regression models herself. She knows the data like the back of her hand...”
Unbothered, they continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “I see. Well, it’s admirable you’ve involved a… diverse choice as your partner,” one of the women offered, condescension wrapped in a smile. “But these equations—surely they were derived by you, Dr. Richards?”
“No,” Reed said firmly, the edge creeping into his voice. “She derived them. She verified the accuracy. She’s the reason the models work.”
The panel shifted uneasily but pressed on, directing the next question right past you. “And Dr. Richards, how do you foresee scaling these results?”
Something in Reed’s expression hardened. He stepped back slightly, hands folding behind his back, and turned deliberately toward you—his eyes steady, voice warm.
“Dr. Y/N, would you like to answer that?”
You caught the glint in his gaze—quiet reassurance, an unspoken ‘I’ve got you. Show them.’
Your heart steadied. You turned back to the panel and launched in, “Our scaling projections are based on the extended observation window proposed in section four,” you explained, gesturing to the chart displayed in front of them. “By increasing our telescope time by forty percent, we can test the simulation’s predictive capacity across multiple lensing events.”
You didn’t stutter. You didn’t shrink. You filled the room with the sound of your expertise.
They tried to cut in again—twice—but you pressed on, calmly but firmly, answering every objection with data and clarity. By the time you finished walking them through the visuals, even the most skeptical pair of eyes couldn’t look away.
When the last slide clicked dark, the silence that followed wasn’t dismissive. It was more thoughtful.
One of the men cleared his throat. “Thank you, Dr. Richards. Miss—”
Reed’s voice cut cleanly across the room as he stepped beside you, putting his hand lightly against the small of your back to show his unwavering support, “It's Doctor.”
The man blinked. Reed’s tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried steel.
“Dr. Y/N,” Reed continued, “is the heart of this project. You’ve heard the evidence. She’s shown you the proof. If you want to understand what we’re proposing, she’s done an excellent job of demonstrating it this morning.”
For a moment, no one breathed. The quiet power in his words hung heavy.
Finally, one of the women nodded slowly. “Yes, well, we’ll need a few minutes to deliberate... if you'll excuse us?”
“Of course,” you said smoothly, gathering your notes with careful hands. You turned as you began walking, Reed at your side, and stepped into the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind you. You let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.
“God,” you whispered, rubbing your temples. “That was—”
“Infuriating,” Reed finished, his voice low. “The way they talked to you—like you were some assistant. I can't believe how ignorant—how absolutely—”
You looked up at him, surprised by the heat behind his words. His jaw was tight, his eyes stormy. “Read, it’s ok, I’m used to it…”
“They just don’t see it,” he started quietly, but his voice grew as he went on. “But I do. You—You’re brilliant. You’re the reason we’re here at all.” He continued, not being able to stop himself, “And I don’t ever want you to think for a second that I’ll let someone silence that.”
Something twisted deep in your chest. Gratitude. Something softer too—dangerously close to the feelings you’d both been avoiding.
“Thank you,” you said softly, voice catching a little. “For backing me up.”
He exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he found your gaze, “Always.”
You both stood there in the quiet corridor, shoulders brushing, hearts thrumming, waiting for the door to open again.
A few minutes later, the door opened with a soft click. And the same secretary as before leaned out, “They’re ready for you now.”
You both straightened instinctively—shoulders squared, expressions composed—as you stepped back inside.
The panel sat in the same semicircle, but the air felt different. Lighter. Expectant.
The lead chair folded his hands. “Dr. Richards. Dr. Y/N.” He paused, exchanging a look with the others before continuing, “We’ve reviewed your presentation and the data you've laid out for us. After deliberation, we’ve decided to move forward with full funding for your next phase of research.”
For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. Your chest lifted with a stunned inhale.
“Your proposal demonstrates remarkable potential,” one of the women added, voice measured. “Particularly the clarity of your modeling and the strength of your analysis.”
You felt Reed shift beside you, the subtle spark of triumph radiating off him, though his voice stayed calm, respectful, “Thank you. We’re incredibly grateful for the opportunity—and for your confidence in our work.”
You echoed softly, “Yes, thank you. We won’t let you down and look forward to showing you the data we gather with this phase next semester.”
There were a few polite handshakes, formal nods, and a brief discussion of next steps. You managed to keep your composure—professional, steady—though your pulse was racing so loud you could barely hear the words they were telling you.
The moment the door shut behind you again, Reed let out a breath that turned into a laugh—half relief, half disbelief.
You turned toward him, eyes wide, lips breaking into a wide grin. “We did it!”
He grinned back, the first unguarded, boyish smile you’d seen from him in weeks. “We actually did it!”
And then you were in his arms—instinctively, naturally—hugging him so tightly your folders nearly spilled from your grasp. He let out a low laugh and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close before suddenly lifting you off the ground.
You squealed, half laughing, half gasping as he spun you once, the world a blur of joy and disbelief.
“Reed!” you laughed, clutching at his shoulders.
He set you down carefully, hands lingering at your waist, your palms still splayed against his chest. The laughter slowly faded, replaced by something quieter—more fragile. You were standing close, far too close, breaths mingling in the charged silence. His eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and you swore the world tilted for a second.
You both blinked, pulling back slightly, flustered but smiling still.
You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Guess all those late nights paid off.”
“Guess so,” he murmured, his voice low, soft. Then, more quietly, “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
You looked up at him, warmth curling deep in your chest. “Likewise.”
For a moment, the air between you hummed with all the things you weren’t saying.
Then you cleared your throat, trying to shake the intensity. “So…” you started, a little breathless, “do you want to… maybe take a rain check on the lab tonight? Go get a drink later? Celebrate, just—something that doesn’t involve fluorescent lights and data sheets?”
Reed blinked, startled—he never said no to lab time. But one look at you, eyes bright, cheeks flushed from excitement, and his answer came easily.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Your smile widened. “Good. There’s a place a few blocks from campus—Wally's? I’ll buy the first round.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not a chance. I’m buying. My treat.”
You looked down, suddenly feeling shy, and bit the side of your cheek before looking back at him, “I’ll meet you there at 7?”
He nodded and put his hands in his pockets, observing your nerves, “Yeah—I’ll see you there.”
You nodded and started to back away slowly, heading towards the exit, pointing to the door, “Well, uhm, I’ve got class in 15 so I’ll see you tonight...”
He nodded, watching you, "Tonight..." his eyes soft and warm, “Can’t wait.”
The bar you’d chosen sat tucked on the corner of a quiet street, a cozy place strung with soft amber lights and low jazz humming through the speakers. The kind of place where time felt slower, warmer. You arrived almost 15 minutes early—too excited, too restless to wait any longer, honestly hoping to scope out the place to get the best place to sit—but when you stepped through the door, you stopped short.
Reed was already there.
He stood near the entrance, hands clasped around a small bouquet of wildflowers—lavender and soft yellow blooms threaded with sprigs of green. He looked slightly out of place in his nicely pressed shirt and slightly loosened tie, but his eyes lit up when he saw you.
“Hey,” you greeted as you walked up to him, voice soft but bright.
“Hey.” He smiled, a little nervous, and held the flowers out toward you. “These are for you.”
Your brows lifted, warmth flooding your cheeks. “Oh—Reed, you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he said quickly, then hesitated, his gaze dropping to the petals as if trying to find the right words. “They’re, uh… a token. For… you know, securing our first round of funding. Congratulations and all that.”
You smiled, taking them gently. “They’re beautiful.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Truthfully… they just reminded me of you. Couldn’t help myself when I grabbed them on my way over.”
The confession hung between you, quiet and genuine. You looked down at the flowers again, fingers brushing over the lavender, and your heart gave a soft, helpless tug.
“Thank you,” you murmured, eyes lifting to meet his. “I love them.”
He smiled—small, honest—and gestured toward a corner booth. “I uhm, I got us a seat.”
You followed him through the low light, his hand lingering on the small of your back as he guided you protectively through the thick crowd—the murmur of other patrons faded into a soft backdrop. When you slid into the booth across from him, the candle on the table cast a warm glow across his face, softening the lines of concentration you were so used to seeing in the lab. He looked different here—relaxed, almost shy.
Drinks arrived—a whiskey for him, a glass of wine for you—and you clinked glasses with a shared, giddy grin.
“To funding,” you said.
“To you,” he countered, eyes glinting. You blinked, and he flushed, quickly amending, “I mean—to us.”
You laughed softly, heart skipping, and took a sip.
He swallowed and nodded your way, “You look really nice, by the way. I don’t—I uhm, I don’t think I’ve seen you honestly, outside of the lab.”
You narrowed your gaze and teased, “Are you sayin’ I don’t look good in the lab?”
He blinked and stuttered, shaking his head, “N-No no—no I just mean, you uhm, fuck…” He nervously chuckled, trying to find the words.
You reached across the table and touched his arm, “I’m just messing with you.” You smiled and took your hand back, “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You tilted your head and took a sip of your wine, keeping your gaze on him.
He blushed and looked away for a moment, suddenly feeling bashful—grinning ear to ear, “Yeah? You think so?”
You shrugged and set your glass down, fiddling with the bottom of it as you averted your gaze, confessing, “Yeah, but then again, you always look good if we’re out here being honest and all...”
He looked at you, and his features softening, “Well, thank you. Y'know—for bein’ honest and all...”
Conversation flowed easily, at first about anything but work—favorite constellations, how you both agreed that the cafeteria coffee was awful, your thoughts on the most recent space journal articles, and reminiscing about the time you both accidentally slept through an entire morning’s worth of lectures from staying up too late. But even when you tried to steer away from ‘shop talk,’ it crept back in, like gravity pulling you both home.
“—and when the data started matching the predictions?” he said, leaning in, eyes alight. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“I know!” you grinned, mirroring his excitement, your wine glass forgotten between your hands. “It was like the model just clicked. Like we’d been holding our breath for weeks and finally—”
“Finally exhaled,” he finished quietly, smiling at you.
Your laughter softened. “Exactly.”
You both lingered there, close enough to feel the warmth of his hand resting near yours on the table. The air between you was thick with something unspoken—familiar and new all at once. After a few more drinks, the edges blurred just enough for your guard to slip. Your knee brushed his under the table and stayed there. His thumb traced lazy circles against the condensation on his glass, eyes flicking toward you every few seconds like he couldn’t help himself.
“You know,” you said softly, “I don’t think I’ve ever worked with someone who understands me the way you do... It’s like… things make sense when it’s just us.”
His eyes softened, voice equally quiet. “Yeah. They do.”
You stared at him for a long moment, your chest aching in the best way. The candlelight danced across his features—eyes bright, mouth curved in that gentle, crooked smile you’d grown to love.
He cleared his throat, voice rougher now. “I meant what I said earlier. About not letting anyone silence you. You’re extraordinary, Y/N.”
Your breath caught, eyes flicking down. “Reed…”
He reached across the table before he could stop himself, fingers brushing yours—just enough to make your heart stutter. You didn’t pull away. Neither did he.
For a few seconds, the world outside faded completely—the noise, the deadlines, the exhaustion. There was just this: the soft hum of music, the glow of the candle, his hand brushing yours, and the unspoken truth settling warm and steady between you.
You smiled faintly, voice barely above a whisper. “This was a good idea.”
He smiled back, eyes warm and certain. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Best one I think we’ve had all year.”
The night air was cool and sweet when you stepped out of the bar, the city quieting around you, the glow of the lamps stretching long over the pavement. Reed fell into step beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, his tie still loosened, his hair a little mussed from the evening.
“I still can’t believe we actually did it,” you said, glancing up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “First round of funding. We really pulled it off.”
He looked over at you, eyes warm. “We did,” he said softly. “Couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”
You smiled down at your shoes, your cheeks warming despite the cool breeze.
For a few blocks, you walked in companionable silence—your footsteps in sync, the hum of the city fading as you moved deeper into quieter streets. Then, after a moment, Reed glanced at you and, with a touch of hesitation, bent his arm and offered it out to you.
You looked up at him, brows lifted in surprise.
He gave a small, bashful smile. “Y’know… if you wanted to, uh, hold on. For balance. Or… whatever excuse you want to use...”
You let out a soft laugh but slipped your hand through the crook of his arm anyway. It fit naturally, your fingers curling against the fabric of his sleeve, and when his arm tightened just slightly in response, your heart gave a small, helpless flutter, and you leaned your head against his bicep for a moment.
You fell into easy conversation again, reminiscing again, “Remember Dr. Carson’s class?” you asked with a laugh.
Reed groaned. “How could I forget? Man had the patience of a saint but the exams of a sadist.”
You snorted. “Exactly! I thought I was going to fail that final.”
He huffed a chuckle, “You? You were the only one who got the bonus question right. You practically carried the curve.”
You shook your head, grinning. “Oh, come on—says Mr. 4.9 GPA? Reed, you set the curve for the university!”
He glanced at you with a fond smile and chuckled, “You’re feeding my ego a little too much with that observation.”
You were still laughing when you started to pass the park—its trees swaying gently, the path lit by pools of soft golden light. Then suddenly, your laughter caught, and your eyes widened with a spark of mischief.
“Oh!” you gasped, tugging lightly at his sleeve. “C’mere! I want to show you something!”
Reed blinked, caught off guard as you moved to take his hand—tugging at it, pulling him toward the park path, “Wait—what—hey!” He chuckled, stumbling after you, his laughter joining yours, “You’re lucky I’ve had just enough to drink to follow you anywhere right now.”
You turned back with a teasing grin. “You’d follow me anyway.”
He laughed again, shaking his head, though he didn’t deny it.
You led him down the quiet path until you reached a weathered wooden picnic table sitting beneath an open patch of sky. Without hesitation, you hopped up onto the tabletop, your heels clicking softly against the wood before you laid back, your hair spilling around you like a dark halo.
You patted the spot beside you. “C’mon.”
Reed hesitated for a beat, then climbed up and stretched out beside you. The space was narrow, your shoulders brushing, your hands resting close enough that the warmth of his skin bled into yours.
You exhaled deeply, eyes turning skyward. The stars glittered bright and endless above, the moon a pale silver coin.
“Gosh, would you look at it,” you whispered, pointing upward. “The sky’s so clear tonight.”
He followed your gaze, the reflection of the constellations mirrored in your eyes.
“I can’t wait to study more about stellar formation,” you murmured, voice soft, dreamy. “To really understand what makes them burn, how they shape everything we see. It’s like… they’re the oldest storytellers.”
Reed smiled faintly. “What was it that made you want to do this in the first place? Astrophysics, lensing, all of it...”
You went quiet for a moment, your eyes tracing the horizon of the stars. Then you said, softly, “I think… I wanted to understand what makes us.”
He turned his head toward you for a moment, curious to know more. “What do you mean?”
You breathed out slowly, a smile tugging at your lips as your gaze stayed fixed above, “Well, didn’t you know?” you whispered, eyes glowing under the starlight. “We’re made of the same matter as those stars up there. Literally!” You hummed and shook your head, shrugging, “I don’t know about you, but to me, there’s just… something beautiful about being made of the same things that make up the night sky. Like… we’re all connected to something infinite.”
Reed turned to look at you—your face illuminated in silver light, your eyes alive with wonder—and he felt something catch in his chest. Awe. Tenderness. Longing.
You made sense of things no one else ever had. You steadied him. You never flinched from his intensity; you matched it with your own. You saw him—all of him—and wanted to be more than just lab partners—colleagues. He wanted you.
In that moment, he knew: there wasn’t a single star above worth more than the one lying beside him.
You turned your head when the silence stretched, finding him already gazing at you—eyes soft, full of something that made your breath hitch.
“Reed?” you whispered.
He didn’t answer. His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing against your cheek with a touch so gentle it made you shiver.
“There isn’t a star in our infinite galaxy,” he murmured, voice low and reverent, “that compares to how beautiful you are to me.”
Your breath caught, eyes wide as his gaze flicked to your lips. And then, before you could speak, his mouth found yours.
The kiss was tender—soft and slow, a question and an answer all at once. The world fell away: no deadlines, no panels, no research, no funding presentations—just you, him, and the quiet hum of the universe above.
When he drew back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as his thumb softly stroked your cheek. You smiled, unable to help it, and leaned in again, your lips curving against his in a second kiss, deeper this time—warm and certain, full of everything you’d both been holding back.
He chuckled softly against your mouth, the sound low and happy, before cupping your cheek and kissing you again—slow and lingering, under the same stars that made you both.
When the kiss finally broke, the world felt different—softer, brighter, more alive. The stars above seemed to shimmer just a little more, like they’d been waiting for this moment too.
You stayed close, foreheads still touching, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Neither of you spoke for a while. You didn’t need to. The silence was full of understanding, of wonder, of everything you’d both tried to hide these last few months.
Eventually, Reed let out a shaky laugh, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, “So… guess this is the part where everything changes, huh?”
You smiled, your voice a whisper. “Maybe not everything.” Then, after a pause: “Just… enough.”
He smiled back, his expression warm and full of something deep, something new. Without a word, he reached for your hand between you. You laced your fingers together, the fit so natural it made your heart ache.
You both turned your eyes back to the sky, lying side by side on the wooden table, your hands intertwined between you. The moon hung luminous above, the constellations stretching wide and infinite, and for the first time in a long time, you felt completely still—like the universe had finally aligned.
