#this if technically part of the stardust au but don’t worry about it

[knightoflove]

A lovely Jehan for your troubles, perhaps?

🌺 Reblogs are Encouraged 🌼

#I was gonna do something more to make it technically self ship but whatever #it’s fanart of the blorbo lmao #📜 starry eyed poet #trist.🎨 #jehan prouvaire #les mis #I’m venturing into the main tags for a change lmao #hello five people who go thru the les mis tag #this if technically part of the stardust au but don’t worry about it

[shuuenmei]

partner

TWST OC Week Day 7: AU

BEFORE WE BEGIN:

For the last day of TWST OC Week, I picked AU and after some brainstorming, I decided to pick a Pokémon AU.

Or rather, a Pokémon crossover AU where Yuu (Rei) comes from the Pokémon universe instead.

This was a personal AU I had in mind for some while but placed on a backburner since I wanted to focus on the main fic first.

But with TWST OC Week, I thought it’s a good chance to revisit the AU again.

Without further ado, here we go!

I’m glad to be doing this event and it’s been fun!

Yuu doesn’t know what to expect when a seemingly mutated, talking, Shiny Zorua threatened to burn her if she didn’t hand over her clothes.

She only realized that she wore a whole robe and new attire, but internally panicked when her bag wasn't around, nor the fact that she has no Pokéball at hand.

So she had to trap the unknown monster back in the coffin she initially awoke to before escaping.

By luck, she met a petite, but older than he seemed student who healed her burns but the monster chased after her before being stopped by a man who claimed to be the Headmaster of this strange academy she was brought to.

“Ah, I found this bag and belt with peculiar looking metallic balls attached to it earlier, they must be yours, yes?”

The Headmaster waved his hand to show her belt with six Pokéballs intact and sling bag.

She hastily took the items and thanked the man. “Thank you sir... it seems my things were separated from me when that monster attacked me.”

“Attacked?”

He turned to the monster and frowned. “So it comes down to the fault of your Familiar.”

What, he’s not-

The headmaster didn’t listen, but the boy...student, with her, Lilia, listened and they talked along the way.

Checking the things inside her bag and her Party on hand as they did so.

________________________________________________________________

The mutated talking Zorua burned the whole room just shortly after the talking magical mirror declared that she had no magic.

The experiences and senses she honed as a trainer being the saving grace that lets her avoid the flames.

As the whole room set into a panic, she took a Pokéball that held her longtime friend, family, and partner.

Gazing at the ball for a moment, she murmured.

“Let’s go, partner. You ready?”

The Pokémon inside it nodded at her with a resolute gaze.

With a nod, she threw the Pokéball to the air.

“Gabriel! Sparkling Aria!”

Her long trusted Primarina landed gracefully on the ground and sang, large water bubbles formed all around them, appearing out from the air and the bubbles burst.

Water spreads all over and extinguishes the flames that appeared.

“Fnah!? My flames!” The mutated Zorua exclaimed but she paid no heed to what was going on behind or around her.

She’s only focused on seeing the flames gone and snuffed out.

In spite of the chaotic situation she found herself into, she’s glad that she’s not alone.

________________________________________________________________

Gabriel made quick work on the flames and the flames are gone by seconds.

The mutated Zorua was caught and she observed a red-haired student chant. “Off With Your Head!”

A large lock shaped collar was magically put in place at the monster.

After some words were exchanged, the boy turned to her. “This is your familiar, is it not?”

The Headmaster chimed in. “Yes! Do something about him! This is your familiar is it-”

Water was blasted on his face before the man could finish.

Turning to her furious partner, she chided. “Hey! I know you’re offended that he assumed that the mutated Zorua who threatened me to go naked is part of the team but you can’t just shoot a Water Gun at anybody!”

“Eh...? He isn’t yours?” The man repeated.

“Gabriel wouldn’t have been offended enough to blast water on your face otherwise.”

“I, I see...” The man looked at her Primarina, who only gave him an angry look in return, readying another blast of water.

“Come on Gab, calm down.” She held and stroked her partner’s hair.

“Pardon me,” The red haired boy called for her, “... you said he threatened you to what?” The red haired boy questioned.

“I woke up from the coffin because that monster,” She pointed to it, “burned the coffin, and then told me to strip naked from these clothes or he’ll burn me to death.”

Silence followed.

“...If that’s the case,” A lavender haired student with the red haired boy spoke. “it’s no wonder your partner is upset enough to attack the headmaster for his wrong assumption.”

She nodded at him. “Gabriel’s my longtime partner, I’d never replace Gabriel over some mutated talking Zorua.”

“Mutated what?”

“A Zorua.” She spoke. She had some suspicion about what kind of world she got brought into but she had to ask. “Do you not have Pokémon here?”

“...What’s a Pokémon?”

Oh boy.

________________________________________________________________

With the monster who called himself as Grim sent away, her status as coming from another world where, in their words, people tame magical monsters on a daily basis, being open news to the students present, but unable to return back to where she once came from, the Headmaster lets her stay around as he finds a way to bring her back to her original world, added onto his own surprise that she is a girl, and that the academy is actually an all-boys school.

She isn’t too worried about being trapped here for the while.

If anything, once the news of her going missing goes around, the Ultra Recon Squad and those from Aether Foundation would likely go and find her via the Ultra Wormhole.

They would have gotten in touch with Selene too by then.

Meanwhile, she was brought to an unused dorm that was planned to be repurposed on a later date.

She is now looking at her PC Box via the Portable PC, a new technology from Galar that lets you open your PC anywhere and anytime that is just recently applied in Sinnoh PC’s.

Speaking of Sinnoh... she was last walking around Route 214 back home, wasn’t she?

How did she get here-

Gabriel’s nudging brought her out of her thoughts.

“...Yeah, we should make the best of things for the time being.” She nodded.

At least the Pokémon in her PC Box are safe and the PC can still be used, even in another world.

Though she had to think of how she can manage to bring some of her Pokémon out and not get them stuck in the PC Box for too long.

She got enough berries, over a hundred, she last counted, obtained from renovating her Poké Pelago for years, so food for her Pokémon and her own person wouldn’t be a problem.

She knows the basic housework and the like at least, and can cook things decently.

She also got enough clothes, be it undergarments and others.

But first…

“We got a lot to clean up, don’t we?”

Gabriel nodded at her.

Time to get started.

________________________________________________________________

She would have gotten started if not for the monster she mistook as a mutated Shiny Zorua sneaking back in, only behaving once she threatened to have Gabriel shoot water at him if he didn’t, and dealing with the resident ghosts who were bothering her, thinking she’d be easy to play around with if it weren’t for Gabriel being way powerful for the ghosts to handle.

She had to convince the Headmaster to let the monster, Grim, stay if not for the fact that he’d do more harm if he is kicked out again.

“Ah, speaking of, would you like to register Grim-kun together with you as a student?”

“...What?”

The Headmaster explained. “We have some cases where students register as a 2-in-1 student due to circumstances. Considering that of yours and Grim-kun’s desire to enter the school, wouldn’t it have worked out?”

“...No, I’d rather register with Gabriel and my Pokémon than to register together with Grim.”

“Fnah!? Why!?”

She shook her head and reasoned, staring at the Headmaster. “You’re implying as if you want to replace my longtime friend, partner and family over a stranger. I refuse to have my partners be replaced by anybody.”

She looked down at Grim next. “And honestly, you still need a lot of work to do and understand what’s appropriate and inappropriate for people. Telling people to strip naked and burn them if things don’t go your way is not it.”

“...That’s true.” The Headmaster agreed.

“...I shall register you and… who would be your main partner?”

“Gabriel.” She spoke without hesitation.

“Alright, Gabriel-kun and Yuu-san. You two will be students from tomorrow on, while Grim-kun will be on probation until he is deemed ready to be a student.”

She nodded.

Sounds good to her.

________________________________________________________________

“So you’re choosing Popplio, young Yuu?”

Yuu nodded at Hala.

She is only twelve this year.

Her parents advised her to move with her cousins to Hau’Oli city, Alola, from Sinnoh last year and she still needs some time to get used to Alola weather.

It’s too hot, and she personally missed the cold, chilly air of Sinnoh.

Then her uncle suggested she try and take the island challenge and see if she can dethrone the first ever champion of Alola, Selene, who took charge three years ago.

With little to do beyond hanging around Iki Town and wandering around Hau’Oli, with her cousins off to their own adventures, she decided she might as well take it.

The Popplio clapped in glee and hopped towards her.

She held her first… rather, second, Pokémon, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Gabriel.”

Popplio welcomed the nickname with a cheerful bark. Followed by another cry of triumph.

Gabriel stared at the newcomer.

She noticed it’s gaze and introduced Gabriel to her technically first Pokémon she befriended.

“Oh, this stardust looking little guy? The name’s Aster. Aster’s not really someone I want to use in battles since Aster doesn’t seem like the kind to like fights right now, but Aster’s a friend.”

Aster the Cosmog smiled at Gabriel, excited at the thought of having a new friend.

#black or white (fanfic) #Twisted Wonderland #Twst X Pokemon #Yuu (Rei) #Shiina Yuu (black or white) #twst grim #dire crowley #Shuu's fics #Shuu Art #even from an alternate universe yuu (rei) has zero mercy for grim #pokemon #pokemon x twisted wonderland #Twst OC Week

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The BNHA Group Chat Fic Nobody Asked For

Pairings: Todoroki Touya (Dabi)/Mr Compress (Sako Atsuhiro), Shimura Tenko (Shigaraki Tomura)/Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)/Kurono Hari (Chrono), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)/Shirakumo Oboro (Loud Cloud), Fukukado Emi (Ms. Joke)/Kayama Nemuri (Midnight), Bakugo Katsuki/Kaminari  Denki/Kirishima Eijiro, Iida Tenya/Monoma Neito/ Aoyama Yuuga

Word Count: 1,637 Words

Summary: LOV, internships, and Tenko unintentionally reveals a secret some of his classmates keep hidden from even Aizawa.

Warnings: Abduction Mention, Kidnapping Mention, Caps, Death Mention, Injury Mention, Amputation Mention, Prosthetic Mention, Cursing, Blood Mention, Teen/Underage Pregnancy Mention, Pregnancy Mention, Broken Bones Mention, Drugs Mention, Adoption Mention, Half Blind Character, Deaf Characters, Mostly Mute Character (due to a different medical issue), Selectively Mute Character, let me know if I should add anything else.

Notes: In this AU, Hisashi Shimura married Nao Shimura and Inko Midoriya had Hana with Nao then Izuku and Tenko with Inko and Nao respectively before Tenko's power went out of control and killed his parents.

Notes: Honoka (or 和花) means harmony flower. She's named after Hana Shimura. Nanami (or 七海) means seven seas. She's named after Nana Shimura. Akiyama(秋山) means autumn mountain, Sekai (世界) means world, Ayaka (彩花) means colorful flower, Akari (明り) means light/brightness.

Usernames: We Are Number One™ Aizawa: Dadzawa, Aoyama: immafiringmahlaser, Ashido: princessbubblegumknockoff, Asui: Galvan, Iida: Emergency Exit, Uraraka: 9.8, Ojiro: tailfloof, Kaminari: Pichu, Kirishima: baby shark, Koda: youredoingamazingsweetie, Sato: GuyFieriIsGod, Shoji: Cthulhu, Jirou: Jack Skellington, Sero: Spider-Man, Tokoyami: EdgarAllanCrows, Todoroki: WHERE?, Hagakure: cena, Bakugo: WHAT?, Midoriya: SmolMight, Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: exhausted, Yaoyorozu: TheGreatCreator, Kurono: stopwatch, Chisaki: donthugmeimscared, Yukimura: choticgaydisaster, Bubaigawara: shadowclonejutsu, Shimura: idontfeelsogood, Awase: illrememberyouallintherapy, Kaibara: IDOWHATIWANT, Kamakiri: scyther, Kuroiro: itsmeyaboy, Kendo: Akimichi, Kodai: deadinside, Komori: shroomgurl, Shiozaki: wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs, Shishida: furry, Shoda: cryptid, Tsunotori: mylittlepony, Tsubaraba: airbender, Tetsutetsu: Iron Man, Tokage: t-rex costume, Fukidashi: glorifiedtextbubble, Honenuki: Eren Jaeger/spookyscaryskeletons, Bondo: Slimer, Monoma: HopeSummers, Yanagi: iLiEdImDyInGiNsIdE, Rin: snek, Toga: mystique, Sako: lostmymarbles, Hikiishi: queenofmagnetism, Iguchi: eye gucci, Shinokanri: stardust

Usernames: Emos Anonymous Kaminari: blackcloakedbrides, Shoji: fryingpan, Jirou: greentwentyfourhours, Tokoyami: myscientificinfatuation, Todoroki: twentyoneplotpoints, Bakugo: immobileinwhite, Midoriya: falldownboy, Shinsou: stabtheveil, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Chisaki: plummetingininverse, Yukimura: anxietyintheclub, Shimura: nappingwithsirens, Kuroiro: thousandfootcane, Kodai: marianaspit, Monoma: entiretimelow, Yanagi: recentyearsday, Sako: halfminutetomars, Aizawa: hollywoodlivingdead, Shouji: fryingpan, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Aoyama: phantomtown, Honenuki: visualizedragon, Sako: halfminutetomars, Awase: distressparade, Shinokanri: simplestrategy

Usernames: UA Teachers Are Tired™ Eraserhead/Aizawa: grumpy scarf cat, Present Mic/Yamada: screeching cockatiel, Midnight/Nemuri: chaotic goth gay Ingenium/Iida: gotta go fast, AllMight/Toshinori: actual sunshine, Vlad King/Kan: bloody hell, Power Loader/Majima: speechtotext, Ectoplasm: needalegup?, Snipe: kazoo cowboy, Cementoss: concrete block, Blackmist/Kurogiri: goth portals

Me? A Bitch? More Likely Than You’d Think-Chapter 8

10:03 am

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: So, I heard someone's operating the LOV again?

idontfeelsogood: No, it's inactive. There shouldn't be anyone in it, all of us are here, in UA becoming heroes, none of us would become villains again EVER. At the very most, drop out and live life out as a normal couple, but never become villains again. We all talked about this.

mystique: yeah, if we did, we would have told you heroes already about that one of us and have them put with Koku and the two creeps

Dadzawa: Well, someone's running it and it seems they had a meeting with the yakuza and I'm afraid I need all of you to be under constant supervision by a pro hero for a short while.

stopwatch: If it proves our innocence we shall do it.

2:01 pm

We Are Number One™

lostmymarbles: @chaoticgaydisaster Agency is fun. I really like working under Sir Nighteye.

chaoticgaydisaster: That's because you're both really serious and you get along very well.

lostmymarbles: Perhaps.

lostmymarbles: Oh, we're already going on a patrol! I'll call you when I come back from patrol, honey!

chaoticgaydisaster: I love you, you absolute dork.

3:59 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: I've just received word that Atsuhiro Sako has been kidnapped during his patrol.

chaoticgaydisaster: GET MY HUSBAND BACK THEN!

Dadzawa: Calm down, you need to be rational. He should be fine. They're looking for him as we speak.

chaoticgaydisaster: Please don't let him die? I love him, I need him.

Dadzawa: I can't promise you anything sadly, I'm not a part of the rescue team right now but they'll involve me if it becomes more serious.

chaoticgaydisaster: Can I have a Good Dad™ hug?

Dadzawa: Of course, come to the teacher's dorms, Hitoshi is already here stealing said hugs.

5:25 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: I have confirmation that they've found Sako. He's mostly fine.

WHERE?: What do you mean 'mostly'!? That's my brother-in-law!

Dadzawa: It looks as though his left arm has been ripped off but they're currently working on both healing him and attaching a prosthetic that would allow him to still channel his quirk through the arm.

mystique: Has anyone seen Tami?

eye gucci: She was with the Fatgum Agency I think.

baby shark: I haven't seen her for a while. She showed up with me and then she just kinda disappeared near...oh

stardust: what is 'oh'? What happened to our favorite girl?

baby shark: She disappeared at around 2 or 3 just like when Sako disappeared.

Dadzawa: I'll send the search team out for her too.

6:19 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: Magne is back! She's in the ICU recovering now, she needed some pretty strong healing so she'll be out of commission for quite a while. We haven't closed the investigation but you LOV kids need to know the message stapled on your friends.

Dadzawa: [pic of two papers reading 'here take this back, we don't need him yakuza' and 'I will always run the League.']

Dadzawa: Do these mean anything to any one of you?

idontfeelsogood: I'm so done. I've been hiding from a little twerp, I can't even believe I was scared of him. He's going too far, like always, and I thought he'd changed like we did but he didn't. I'm going to sort this shit out. Send a search team by tomorrow morning at 6:30 if nobody sees me by then, I have some business to take care of.

Dadzawa: wait, AllMight will have my head if you get hurt!

idontfeelsogood is now offline

Dadzawa: fuck.

6:34 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

grumpy scarf cat: so it looks like Tenko is going off-grid for what I'm going to call a 'private investigation' into the revived LOV. He's apparently taken his hero supervisor with him because Ragdoll is gone with him and he's going to, and I quote, "sort this shit out". and requested a search team if he doesn't show back up in 24 hours.

yeet yeet bitch: yeesh, you really can't catch a break, huh, Shou.

grumpy scarf cat: I'm starting to wish I expelled them at this point.

gotta go fast: bullshit, they're our disciples and you know it.

yeet yeet bitch: you're right but why say it?

9:35 PM

We Are Number One™

donthugmeimscared: No sign of Tenko yet, Hari, I'm getting worried.

stopwatch: Me too, but we need to trust he can do this.

shadowclonejutsu: he should be fine, guys. he'll be okay.

6:17 AM

We Are Number One™

donthugmeimscared: Almost 12 hours

Dadzawa: I know, Kai.

donthugmeimscared: Do you think he'll be okay, Mr. Aizawa?

Dadzawa: honestly, I don't know but I'm here to offer you hugs if you need them.

donthugmeimscared: Thank you but I can't do hugs right now, too constricting.

6:30 AM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: the search party is officially being sent out to get him.

4:17 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

screeching cockatiel: we found him and we have the traitor under arrest. Tenko looked worse for wear so he's at the hospital already

actual sunshine: Who's the traitor?

screeching cockatiel: Minoru Mineta.

actual sunshine: I'm glad he was arrested.

gotta go fast: Yagi, are you and Tenko okay? you've always sympathetic when it was someone underage being arrested.

actual sunshine: it becomes null when my mentor's son gets hurt. blood to me or not, I can't feel sympathy for someone who's hurt him. he didn't have a childhood to begin with and I won't let anyone take what little is left of it from him.

screeching cockatiel: is he okay, Yagi?

actual sunshine: Since he's in my temporary custody until Ms. Midoriya can finalize her adoption paperwork, they contacted me first with his injury report and I would like that purple little shit to burn for what he's done.

yeet yeet bitch: Do you wanna elaborate?

actual sunshine: His leg is broken. The leg he had an injury in before. They have to fix it again.

yeet yeet bitch: Shit.

actual sunshine: Along with that, he's been deemed unable for further stress in the form of training and extraneous activities because the hospital confirmed he's eight months pregnant and needs to deliver early due to the drugs Mineta forced into his bloodstream.

yeet yeet bitch: Fuck, this isn't good.

actual sunshine: I'm pushing Ms. Midoriya's paperwork up through the courts as an emergency adoption due to the situation of him being her technically being his step-mother and her son being his only remaining relative, even if only by half of his blood and him needing a stable family after the birth of a child.

yeet yeet bitch: Hopefully they'll get it done quickly.

actual sunshine: Until then, I need to go offline and be there for him as his only parental figure and the only other person allowed in the delivery room.

screeching cockatiel: What do we tell the children? Tenko's boyfriends?

actual sunshine: Hari was already called to the hospital but they cannot confirm it's his child so I'll be the only familiar face to young Tenko in the room for the delivery.

actual sunshine: I must go.

actual sunshine is now offline

8:17 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

actual sunshine: Tenko is fine, out of surgery for the C-Section and in recovery now. the two little girls are fine too, both are a little smaller but that's expected since they're both premature and Tenko never gained much weight during the pregnancy.

grumpy scarf cat: I still can't believe he's been pregnant his whole stay at UA. hell, he was probably pregnant during the USJ incident at the beginning of the year.

actual sunshine: You're probably right and I don't like that idea, Aizawa.

grumpy scarf cat: me either but that's the reality of the situation.

10:24 PM

We Are Number One™

idontfeelsogood: Out of surgery in recovery. Got drugged and they needed to induce me there to give birth, which I didn't even know I was pregnant. Two healthy little girls named Shimura Honoka and Shimura Nanami.

chaoticgaydisaster: Welcome to the teen mom club, Tenko.

WHERE?: We have meetups on Mondays and Fridays and have playdates with the kids.

idontfeelsogood: I thought you two were the only ones with kids though?

wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs: No, I have a one year old son, he is the light of my life.

WHAT?: Well, I mean...

princessbubblegumknockoff: I best be going! Wouldn't want to burn down the house with the water I left running.

spookyscaryskeletons: Oh, would you look at that, it's time to go to sleep and never speak of this again.

Dadzawa: wait, we have seven of you now? I thought we just went up to three!

Dadzawa: And Honenuki, I never expected you to be a teen parent.

spookyscaryskeletons: Whaaaaaat? Nooooo. I never said that. I said I was going to bed! I'm just going to bed!

Dadzawa: Suspicious.

spookyscaryskeletons: I certainly don't have a one year old son named Akiyama. Nope, not at all.

wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs: My son's name is Sekai.

princessbubblegumknockoff: Honestly, I thought you'd read that in my file. I was basically just out of the two day hospital stay when I took the entrance exams to get into UA.

baby shark: Can confirm, my moms watched her daughter that day.

princessbubblegumknockoff: Her name is Ayaka.

WHAT?: You literally met Akari when you visited my house.

Dadzawa: that wasn't your parents' child!? That was a ten month old child!

WHAT?: No, I fucking made that!

Dadzawa: I shouldn't be shocked I got six of the seven teen parents in this school. well, if you need me, please don't hesitate to ask me for help.

WHAT?: Well, I want to bring Akari to the dorms because she'll be safer here. She's been staying with Auntie Inko for a month or so now.

Dadzawa: of course.

Taglist: @logan-sanders-enthusiast @luckyicekitsune @whippedbel @lgbtforeverything @pinecone-chomper @mikmacmoo @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @purplespiderstormcloud @stankyratman @king-of-the-oranges @headcannons-and-random-things @fear-ze-queer @turtleluv799 @ymmm-someone

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #snoweywrites #the bnha group chat fic nobody asked for #league of misfit heroes au #tw abduction mention #tw kidnapping mention #tw caps #tw death mention #tw injury mention #tw amputation mention #tw prosthetic mention #tw cursing #tw blood mention #tw pregnancy mention #tw broken bone mention #tw drugs mention #last bnha groupchat chapter today #i promise #hey look a new one!

[axther]

[1/3]Hi! i'd like a BNHA matchup? I'm a INFJ-T, female, virgo. I'm 5'11 and very insecure about my height, because of that I'm very awkward around people even people I'm comfortable with. I'm very shy and reserved, frankly judgmental with people I don't know. it’s something I'm trying to work on. those who I feel are trusting enough or even really worth of me as a friend, I cherish completely. I'd do anything to protect the people I care about.

BJFSABFNJAS I COULDN’T DECIDE SO YOU GET FOUR INSTEAD OF THREE 

#1 is...Todoroki!

Oh my GOD

Y’all judge each other, on the spot 

It wasn’t even intentional, of course

But you see him and it’s an immediate ‘oh god an emotionally constipated rich boy’ 

And he sees you and thinks that you just straight-up hate everyone 

So y’all don’t talk. 

At all. 

There’s a strange tension between you two 

It’s not hate, but you two aren’t friends 

Until the sports festival 

And he becomes more social 

It makes him become more aware 

He thinks about how he had prejudices about people

So rather than dance around it 

He just walks up to you and asks if you hate him

You panic!! Naturally!!

And you clear it up, fast 

He’s relieved, of course

But now he feels bad, and you feel bad 

So he starts sticking to you

You guys haven’t talked much, but he still hangs around you 

It’s a weird symbiotic relationship

Your friends become his friends 

And little by little, he starts realising that you’re really pretty when you’re open 

And he’s not talking the sort of pretty that makes heads turn

But it’s a soft comfort

You fret over everyone in your friend circle and it makes his heart flutter, just a bit 

And you’re so tall!! 

In my humble opinion, todo would absolutely DIE of joy if his s/o was tall 

(actually, i think all the lads n gals would die of joy but eye-) 

Not only do most of the fangirls not fuck wit you!! 

But big spoon big spoon big spoon!!!

Take some of the responsibility to protect everyone off his shoulders

Because as soon as y’all are on the bed, your arms wrapped around him, 

He’s out like a light 

The boy even dreams about you omg 

You wake up in the middle of the night to hear him murmuring something about your hair 

And then turns and nuzzles into that shit and oh my god 

soft.jpg

#2 is...Josuke! 

Now listen

Josuke’s the same height as you 

And considering that the average Japanese woman’s height is 5’2

As SOON as he sees you, he’s that one gif from parks and rec where they zoom in on Chris pratt

He’s THRILLED 

Like he can and will stop you in the street and strike up a conversation 

Because holy shit!! This Jupiter of a woman can look him in the eye!! 

When I say it’s love at first sight I mean it’s on sight 

He sees you and he’s enraptured 

And as soon as he realises you’re so sweet, albeit a bit closed off

He makes it his personal goal to be close friends with you, if not more 

Can and will flaunt you around 

There are several repercussions 

One, Okuyasu is jealous as fuck because his type is motherly and soft 

Two, Koichi is even more dwarfed 

Three, Jotaro is surprised but pleasantly so! 

Let’s talk about one of my favourite aspects of dating a JJBA Part 3 and forward character

Stands 

And here we’re going to assume you have a stand (something i feel that would be kinda omnipotent and not physical, like having a third eye that can see into the future or smth) 

Crazy Diamond: Crazy 

Like CD will hang around you as soon as you’re in range 

Somehow, CD will find a load of little gifts, even if they’re a bit unconventional 

What’re you going to do with a tonne of shiny rocks?? 

I don’t know but it will break CD’s heart if you throw them out 

(guess it’s time for a rock collection) 

It comes to a point that if you and Josuke have an argument, Josuke’ll be stubborn 

But CD will wail and cling to you like glue 

It’s certainly nice because CD shows how Josuke’s feeling

So arguments and unspoken problems are resolved a lot faster

Josuke’s not embarrassed by CD’s clinginess!! 

He’s like ‘fuck yeah my gf knows just how much I love her!!!’

#3 (tied with #4) is…Jotaro (Pt 3)! 

Tsundere boye 

Will refuse for FOREVER to tell anyone he has a crush

But you make him super soft 

You aren’t fangirl-y so it’s certainly a breath of fresh air for him 

You’re calm and quiet and not too short 

(remember he’s like 6’2 so you don’t have to worry about being too tall!!!) 

He won’t admit it until you’re actually in a relationship, but he’s super confused about why you’re insecure about your tallness. 

He thinks it’s incredible 

You were literally born to run faster, fight better, be stronger 

It’s the same way with him, so it does make him sort of wonder if his height is bad 

He gets over it relatively quickly 

As much as he’s big and mean, he’s also VERY VERY SOFT.

Smiling gently when you’re not looking? Being super proud of your work? 

Soft kisses on the shoulder and watching you sleep next to him once he confesses? 

Yes’m!! 

Once camera phones come out you bet your ass that the only pictures on his phone are candids of you 

He loves you so, so much 

While he feels that he’s a bit unwieldy in the romance department, he’s always there for you!! 

And it absolutely makes his heart swell with love if you tell him how much you love him and what you adore about him 

And don’t get me started on Star Platinum 

S-Plat adores you on a whole ‘nother level 

Rather than rocks like Josuke, S-Plat will give you actual stuff like magazines and drinks

You so much as glance for half a second too long at a set of paintbrushes, or a trinket?? 

S-Plat is there with it in hand, and Joot’s got his hat tilted down with a furious blush 

S-Plat loves hugging you!!! 

He’s a cuddle monster, even though Jotaro won’t act like it for a long, long time 

He will hang off your shoulders and refuse to disappear unless you tell him to, something that bothers Jotaro a lot, actually 

Does that mean you’re okay if he did it? Are Stands technically sentient, but just obey out of obligation? 

S-Plat’s super protective of you, too

While Jotaro is scared shitless something will happen to you, he respects your space and lets you do your own thing 

But oh lord

If there’s a Stand attack and you get hurt, S-Plat can and will go apeshit. 

I mean this in the most literal sense possible 

Everyone will be howling for S-Plat not to kill the Stand user, not to hurt him anymore 

But Jotaro glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sees your limp body 

There’s a furious, cold steel gleam in his eye

He’s purely emotionless

But Star Platinum is screaming, sobbing, torn between taking care of you and ripping the Stand user to shreds. 

Everyone can see that it’s impacting Jotaro on an incredibly deep level

And that’s probably how most of the Stardust Crusaders found out, honestly 

Because when someone is ready to kill for you (and almost does), doesn’t that say more than enough? 

#4 (Tied with #3) is...Jonathan! 

a GENTLEMAN 

This king would treat you so well 

Folks call him a simp but they’re fools 

He would treat you so gently 

It’s almost like he thinks you’re delicate

Of course, you’re not, but it’s an incredibly cushy lifestyle 

Being pampered by your rich boyfriend who wouldn’t so much as glance at any other girls if you even vaguely mentioned it??? 

Yes’m!!!

You paint him something?? 

The next time you visit, it will be front and centre by the staircase 

You write something for him? 

He has it in his pocket, constantly, and reads it when he needs a breather. 

He adores you endlessly and wants to marry you, 100%

He’s here for the long run!! 

After the first fight with Dio, he’s stressing to you how much he just wants to live well with you 

(personally, i write within the Eyes Of Heaven AU, and Jonathan lives, goddamnit) 

After the second and third fights, he drops as much of the fighting life as he can 

The last thing he wants is to die on you and leave you a widow 

You tease him on how big-hearted he is at times, but takes it all with an open mind 

He thinks that when you get upset, it’s adorable 

You’re much shorter than him, so he just wraps you up in a big ‘ol hug 

But if you’re angry at him, he won’t 

He feels like it invalidates your anger, and the last thing he wants is to make you feel bad 

The kind of arguments you guys would have would be like ‘You got me the best present!’ v ‘No, you got me the best present!!’ 

Seriously

The amount of softness...its tangible 

#matchups #matchup #bnha x reader #jjba x reader #IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG #I didn't realise how much of my creative cells 'hey lover!' took lmao

[anonthenullifier]

Post Hoc- Ch. 2

An “And They Were Research Collaborators!” AU

Chapter 2: Design Overview

Summary: Wanda and Vision map out how they will approach their collaboration.

AO3 Link

Note: IRB = Institutional Review Board. They review all studies that involve human participants to make sure they are ethical before collecting data.

Wanda stares at the empty pan behind the steamed tilapia sign and sighs, shuffling to the left and scooping what is supposedly a vegetable stew into her to-go box. This setback is par for her day, one filled with a series of disappointing if nots. Like if not for waking up late she would have packed her lunch and if not for Nat having a meeting and Sam working in the field she wouldn't be alone for lunch. Then, if not for needing to work on her grant, which has to be sent to the grant development office for revisions and suggestions by the end of the week, she’d have gone out to get some fresh air and better food.  

Really she can go even further than today. If not for her first yearly review she wouldn’t be scrambling to put something together right now. And, if not for spending her first year on joining Reed’s team to apply for that multimillion dollar quantum loop grant he just secured, she would have already applied for her own funding. But she didn’t and that’s why even though she was applauded for her cooperative research with the other physicists, she was also informed, in very professional and not technically threatening words, that at such a highly regarded institution it wasn't good enough to always be a co-author or secondary investigator. 

Wanda breathes in and tries to ignore the abyss of her future, which will be easier to do with a brownie as a treat for when her methodology is done. 

Three feet to the left and she discovers that all that remains is the sign and a couple of crumbs. That seems fair. It’s not like she’ll even manage to get the methodology done today, her mind scattered in a hundred different directions on what exactly she wants to do with quantum chaos theory. The higher ups not only expect her to be a primary investigator with some significant external funding all her own, but they also demand novelty.  She knows she can get there, but it takes time, which she doesn’t currently have. 

Cutting her losses, she pays and heads off to her hermitage, to-go container clutched in her hands and head down, desperate not to get roped into lunch with any colleagues. Not that she doesn’t like them, but she reserves her mental and social energy for the required meetings. Plus, knowing her day, she’d probably get to hear all about one of their exciting and creative grants that happens to also scoop her idea and put her back to square one. 

As she nears the exit, something in her periphery catches her eye and she turns subtly to investigate. The object of attention is the lanky form and blonde hair of a certain psychologist. Great . Things went a little uncomfortably silent after her suggestion at the bar the other week and she hasn’t seen or heard from Vision since. Yet there he is. There's a part of her that feels like she should go over and apologize, worried she may have fractured his sense of scientific integrity though Natasha claims he’s fine, simply busy with adjusting to a new job and not gifted at social interactions. The majority of her conscience isn’t particularly concerned with him right now, more than happy to give him space and lots of time to exist in a state of being busy or terrified of her, either reality meaning she has more time to work on her research. And yet she can’t seem to find the confidence to keep walking towards her office. 

Is this how a particle feels when it goes to leap to a new position only to discover it’s entangled with another one thousands of miles away? This desperation to have free will while also feeling an inexplicable pull towards the movement of his sweater clad shoulders as he hunches forward? 

Wanda caves to his quantum energy and heads towards the psychologist, hoping the interaction will free her to go back to work. “Mind if I join you?”

If she was surprised by their entanglement, he’s clearly uncomfortable by it, response a little delayed as he moves his attention from the book in his hand ( Seven Brief Lessons on Physics ) to her face. The slow blink of his eyes could be a startle or that look you give to the person whom you find annoying beyond words and who also still keeps talking to you. Then his ambiguity breaks into a friendly smile, the book waving at the chair across from him, “Not at all, please.”

“What are you,” as she sits down she catches a glimpse of his lunch, mind veering into a different universe, “No, they had peanut butter today!”

His brow wrinkles, smoothing out once he follows her eyes to the beautiful, plump, peanut butter frosted brownie on his tray. “Oh, yes. I usually do not have dessert, but Sean-“

Wanda assumes he’s talking about one of the other psychologists that Sam has also mentioned, “He’s the pheromone guy, right?”

Vision’s, “Correct,” is layered with so much disquiet she is tempted to switch topics and see if he agrees with Sam’s own passionate views of Sean. “But he told me to try one as it would, according to him, ‘change my life’.” It will and it explains why the tray was empty today, those brownies coveted at the institute, the only true unifying belief amongst all of them. “Would you like to split it?”

If not for the fact he was already in the process of cutting it in half, she would have been polite and refused, but you can’t put a brownie back together, right? ”Only if you don’t want all of it.”

“I don’t.”

Wanda accepts the napkin holding her prize and begins to realign their conversation to the reason she joined him, starting small in case he shuts down like he did at the bar. “That’s a good book.” She nods towards the black cover speckled with stardust. It’s the same book she sent to Pietro after he told her he didn’t know how to explain to his co-workers what his sister did. 

“So far, yes.” Only now does she also see Vision’s notebook, margin to margin filled with impeccable handwriting and straight arrows forming various diagrams. “I attempted to read some of your more recent publications,” Wanda holds her breath, preparing for the typical condescension she receives from men outside her field whenever they speak of her work, “and though they are exquisite and elegant, I found my literacy in the area itself severely lacking to grasp the full meaning of your work.”

This isn’t usually how these things go, his eyes turned down instead of up and his voice absent that searing cockiness implying the disconnect in understanding is her fault. She doesn’t know how to handle genuineness, her defenses already built up for rebuttal. “You do know that you don’t have to be a physics expert since that’s my job, right?”

“I am more than aware,” the armor of goodwill might actually tighten around him, “I am simply curious about the field and wish to have some level of knowledge going into our collaboration.”

There’s no deceit evident in what he says. “Um, well, Rovelli is a good start then.”

Vision nods enthusiastically, “It is very accessible,” then his nod lessens into a discerning glance towards his notes, “though it is leaving me with more questions than answers.”

“Welcome to physics.” Unlike her last joke to him, this one he picks up on, a tiny, slightly boyish smile that seems to imply the same joke would work if you replaced physics with psychology. But Wanda isn’t here to talk about physics and doesn’t have the time to likely answer the questions in his notebook, so she moves them along. “Speaking of our collaboration, any thoughts?”

His face and shoulders drop, eyes staring at his spoon stirring the opaque broth in the bowl, his entire demeanor seeming less like the friendly man from moments before and more like a marionette with a lazy operator, the spoon stirring and stirring. Wanda begins picking at the half brownie, waiting for him to reach a thought. She decides that five minutes of this soul crushing silence will be her breaking point to call off the original idea and go with something less ridiculous. Vision only makes it thirty seconds. “I believe,” the words pull his face back up, their eyes meeting, “if we can overcome the ethical and logistical hurdles then it is plausible.”

That’s better than she anticipated. “Okay,” Wanda pushes her lunch to the side, arms coming to cross on the table while she leans forward and settles in, “what are the hurdles?”

“Well, first of all with such a paradigm we would not be able to get informed consent.”

Somehow they’ve already moved from an idea at a bar to a paradigm. “Why not? What’s the paradigm?”

Vision turns back five or so pages in his notebook and then slides it across the table. On the paper she sees several boxes connected with arrows, labeled with numbers that are then explained in the legend at the bottom. It’s gorgeous, aesthetically speaking. “If we truly want to examine gift giving of billionaires,” the idea still tastes bitter in his mouth, the entirety of his presence recoiling at merely saying it, “we have to set up a realistic fake wedding, likely through a wedding website.” He motions for her to turn the page, revealing a sketch of said website. “This site will be sent with the invitation and the RSVP would be here, so we can track it.”

For a man so on edge with the idea, he has it fairly well planned. “And if we get informed consent then…”

“Then we will have told them what we are studying and they will know it is a sham wedding, thus reducing the likelihood of realistic participation.”

Which makes sense. “The issue is?”

“Not receiving informed consent typically requires a full board review by the IRB.”

Wanda has heard Sam complain about the IRB, particularly about the wait time for approval and the, as he calls it, idiotically narrow view of the federal regulations, so she has a small inkling of the horror in Vision’s voice at what sounds like an even more in depth review by the board. “Which we don’t want,” he nods, affirming her read of him, “does it count if we tell them afterwards what happened?”

A toothy grin breaks across his face, “Precisely my thoughts,” he motions for her to turn the page again, revealing a bulleted list of thoughts. “If we have consent afterwards, then we may be able to get around it. Of course we also have to consider how to return any gifts to them.”

“They’re billionaires, not like they’ll miss it.”

This is the wrong thing to say, the joy of empiricism dropping from his face, the same way it did the other night. “Ethically speaking, it would go against the principle of Justice in the Belmont Report.”

“Okay,” whatever this report is, it is clearly near and dear to his heart, “so when we are done we send them all a consent form asking if we can use their data and what they want done with their gift?”

He nods along with his, “Correct. Perhaps we provide different options like returning it or donating it to a specific charity.”

That seems like a reasonable suggestion. “What else?”

Vision glances at his wrist, prompting Wanda to find a clock on the wall and experience the always wonderful chest tightening of anxiety when a day is already half over and she’s gotten nothing done. “I am afraid I need to go back to my lab,” a statement that should elicit relief but she’s a little sad, for some reason, likely because this was an okay distraction from the rest of her bad day.

“Why don’t you send me the list of topics and we can meet up in a few days once my grant is done?”

“Of course.” 

Vision gathers up his reading materials and slides them into a brown leather bag. The next words out of her mouth are a surprise to both of them, “Oh and if you have any questions from Rovelli, feel free to email me.”

This garners an appreciative curve on his lips and a slight downturn of his eyes as he takes in the offer. “I will, thank you.” He stands and it is still a disorienting and mesmerizing sight to behold. “Good luck with your grant.”

“Thanks.” 

By the time Wanda is back to her lab and settled in at her computer, lunch container open and partially eaten brownie placed reverently out of reach, she already has an email from Vision with the subject line Logistical and Ethical Issues...and Some Questions . She opens the email and slides it over to her left monitor with the intention of reading over it whenever she needs a break. 

“The place looks nice!” Natasha’s voice reaches him over the soft jazz streaming out of his computer, her eyes roaming over the newest furnishings of his lab as she walks into the room. “Nice you finally have a place for people to sit.”

“It is.” And she uses it, plopping into the chair several feet away from him. Even though he was aware of the sparsity of his furniture (apparently the only standard equipment for their lab spaces are a desk, a chair, and a table), he hadn’t actually cared until his meeting with Wanda and the abject horror he felt at her having to sit on his table. “I think I need to get a few more filing cabinets, but otherwise it is suitable.”

“Probably some wall art too, it’s a little drab.”

“I like it that way.”

Natasha smirks, the same way she does anytime they come to a difference of opinions. “I know, you’re no fun.” A statement that, if actually true, would run counter to their years long friendship. “Want to be fun and get some dinner?”

A tempting offer if he didn’t have so much to finish before his meeting with Sociology tomorrow. “I can’t.” There is no reason to completely forego the offer, and he always finds a delay of gratification necessary for him to be productive. If he wants to finish his work tonight, he needs to lay a promise of reward. “I could meet for breakfast tomorrow?” 

“Fine.” Natasha gracefully stands from the chair, slinging her laptop bag across her chest as if she is leaving. Only she doesn’t move, “What do you think of Wanda?” A discerning and dangerous flicker moves across her face as she waits for him to answer. 

“She seems pleasant to work with so far.”  

The answer is not enough based on the disbelief etched into every inch of Natasha’s stance. “That’s it, just pleasant?”

“We have only actually spoken face-to-face four times, two of them very brief.” 

This still does not sate Natasha’s curiosity, nor does it reveal to him why it seems to matter so much. There’s more she wants to say, her knuckles growing white the tighter she grips the strap of her bag. And then her fingers loosen, as does her face, an amiable yet empty smile flashed in his direction. “I’ll see you in the morning. Our usual?”

“Yes.”

“Night.”

“Goodnight.” He watches her leave before turning back to his computer, the meeting agenda half-finished and staring at him on the screen. It is likely, he imagines from past experience, that Natasha’s aim is simply to help him be more sociable, something that a person like Natasha deems necessary in life. Not that she is dependent upon people (the opposite, in fact), merely that to her it is an essential part of joy. He agrees, to an extent, but also finds solitude freeing and required, a classic introvert. Not that personality factors determine everything in life, he would never give that branch of psychology so much credit. 

A two note chime alerts him to a new email, likely a memo about safety goggles in the chemistry labs being mandatory for all visitors after what Natasha told him happened the other day. Vision clicks over to his inbox and is pleasantly surprised to see the sender is MaximoffW . 

He isn’t sure why he is pleasantly surprised. As he told Natasha, other than some meetings, he has not actually gotten to know his collaborator. His affective response is likely due to mere exposure given the string of emails they have sent over the last couple of days and also that he seems to notice her more and more around the institute, mainly getting an afternoon tea or at the vending machines in the main lounge. Which itself is simply the Baader-Meinhoff phenomenon. Now that he knows who Wanda is, he actually recognizes her, thus he believes he is seeing her more, and, due to mere exposure, the more he sees her the more positively he responds to her presence. It is simple psychology, nothing more. 

Inside the email is a brief response to his last question - This will do a better job than me at explaining it and then there is a link to a video on the double slit experiment, the most recent line of inquiry they’ve been discussing in terms of the behavior of matter. He watches the video three times, jotting key points and additional questions each time in the section of his notebook he has now dedicated to learning physics. After the third time, he contemplates what to write back. At first it’s That was very insightful! but he deletes it, the cursor blinking judgmentally at him as he tries to think of something more intelligent than that. This helped greatly in understanding what you were saying about the lasers This one he deletes before finishing, not wanting to imply her explanations have not been helpful. They have been, it is just a large and complicated field. Vision watches the video one more time and changes his tactic to witty, or so he hopes. If someone invents a shrink ray, would we then be able to test the diffraction of humans?  That seems ridiculous, though she has shown a predilection towards such things. Ultimately he combines them all together and hits send. 

Barely two minutes into working, the tell-tale chime draws him back to his email. Pretty sure that’s what Pym (my next door labmate) is actually working on. Though he wants to start by shrinking ants . 

Vision chuckles, intrigued and confounded by the entirety of physics. It is well-known in psychology and other social sciences, that there is not a unifying theory that explains everything. Yet he always had the notion that this is not true with the physical sciences, or at least, they wish for it not to be true. Wanda concurred with this while answering his question about the incompatibility of Newtonian physics and quantum mechanics. Thus it seems there might be multiple theories that might explain phenomena and instead of embracing them all, factions have arisen. Classical ingroup favoritism and outgroup derogation. 

Another chime comes from his computer, still from Wanda but this time unrelated to physics. Are you still at work?

I am . 

Almost a minute passes, all spent with his eyes on his inbox. Me too. 😕 Any interest in ordering pizza and talking about our study? I could use a break from this grant. 

Vision stares at the still unfinished agenda and begins to type out a polite decline, until his stomach grumbles. Pizza would not be objectionable and technically he would still be productive, just for another project, plus he can finish the agenda after their meeting. He can’t imagine Wanda will want to be at work much longer. 

I would be amenable to a dinner meeting. We can meet in your lab since we met in my last time. He almost hits send and then flashes back to the numerous times he has tried to order food for people without knowing their preferences, so he adds in If it is possible, I prefer no meat on my pizza. 

His notebook and computer are already packed when his phone vibrates, Wanda’s Head on over showing up on the lock screen. 

The journey is fairly painless with the hallways mostly empty, allowing him to consult the various directional signs without people sending him judgmental stares. Even if he has gone to this wing on a couple of occasions to meet with Natasha, the entire Marvel complex is maze-like, stairways not always located in the most sensible places and not all of the elevators going to all of the floors. Eventually, however, he gets to the physic’s floor (or so the sign states) and all he has to do is peek in each window until he sees Wanda inside a room erasing writing from one of her boards. 

Despite the fact she is expecting him, Vision still knocks, taking her wave to mean he can enter. 

When Vision interviewed for the position at the Marvel Institute, he was only shown lab spaces like this one, spacious and fully furnished, a far cry from his somewhat cramped space. There are doors at the back that ostensibly lead to wherever Wanda goes to actually conduct her studies and at the right side of the room is a series of three large white boards. “This is an impressive set-up.”

Pride emanates brightly when she turns to him, arms waving out to the side like a game show model emphasizing the awe-inspiring set-up. “What would Freud say about your lab envy?”

It was only a matter of time until this type of joke was used. He allows every person one pass where he politely laughs at it while also correcting the comment, “Given the majority of Freud's theories are not scientifically based and do not hold up to empirical scrutiny, he likely would not have anything substantial to say.”

“Ouch,” perhaps it was too harsh, though a trace of her smile still clings to her face, “so Freud is off limits?”

“I, um, yes, sorry, it is--”

Wanda shrugs, turning to place the eraser on the ledge of the whiteboard, “I get it, I’m tired of hearing people quote Newton’s laws at me as a way to win an argument when Newton doesn’t even apply.” Has he done this? The specificity of it forces him to go back through every email they have sent and conversation they’ve had. “That wasn’t about you.”

“Oh, good.” He places his bag on one of the many chairs around a table, pulling out his laptop and starting it up before grabbing his notebook as well. “I will endeavor to do no such thing.”

“Thanks.”  Wanda picks up a marker and begins jotting down the list of items they still need to discuss, some of them followed by a check mark while others have a star. “So the ones with the check marks,” he looks up to follow her explanation, the uncapped marker pointing at the board as she talks, “mean I think I have a solution for them. The stars are things we still need to decide.”

Over half the list has check marks and he finds himself filled with a buzzing curiosity as to what she determined to do with them. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s start fun.” All of it is fun to him, the prospect of chiseling out the most appropriate methodology the most enjoyable part of research. A close second is running the statistics, but they still have a ways to go before then. “I did a mock-up of a wedding website last night, let me,” she taps away on her phone and soon after he receives a link. Clicking it opens a dark gray background with golden orbs clustered around the outside of a large picture that currently is a stock photo of a happy couple with the copyright information stamped onto it. “Obviously we have to change the pictures.”

“Yes.” And all of the details, each field for venue, date, time, wedding party, and registry left either blank or with TBD written in. There is an RSVP page and a photo page, both empty. “How customizable is this?”

“There are a lot of options.” She bends closer to her phone, swiping the screen a few times. “Yeah you can customize which pages show up.”

Vision clicks through it, most of his mind thinking through the experimental design he is leaning towards and part of his mind trying to figure out why this website seems so familiar. “Is there a way to customize the order in which they see the RSVP and the registry?”

“Um…” Wanda slides her phone back into her sweatshirt and moves to her desktop, the furious clicking and typing of marginal concern, enough that he stands and approaches her work station, watching her move through the website. “I think so, what did you have in mind?”

Vision grabs a stray chair and brings it over, always feeling overbearing and awkward when he stands while someone else is sitting. “Based on your example of destructive and constructive interference, I was thinking we might want to stick with a fairly basic study on order and framing effects that way we can test classical probability against quantum probability with a phenomenon found in both our fields. Perhaps half of our participants receive a website that asks for the RSVP before showing the registry and the other half receive a website that asks for the RSVP only after they have seen the registry information.” 

This is new information to share and so he gives her time to digest it, her head subtly nodding as she processes it all. “I like that idea, not sure it’s possible with this particular website though,” she hesitates, clicking through the various options on the main portal, “if we get desperate we could always talk to computer science about customizing the code.”

“Why does that only have to be from desperation?”

Now she sits back and stares at him, a harrowing quality forming in her eyes about what must be some past transgressions or infighting with that department. “Because if you want to talk to anyone there, you have to talk to Victor von Doom first.”

Oh yes, he had somehow already forgotten the other Victor was their chair. “Is he really that bad?”

Wanda nods, “He just makes me feel really uncomfortable.” 

“I can be the one that speaks to him.”

A contemplative moment passes before she denies what he thought was a reasonable suggestion. “He’ll just tell you no. But,” she inhales deeply, “if it comes to that, you can come with me.” The next part he thinks is an aside, at least he cannot tell what it has to do with getting help. “I’m like 99% sure he has to be a supervillain somewhere in the multiverse.”

The multiverse is something he is vaguely aware of, primarily from reading and watching science fiction. “Why do you say that?”

“Listen--” a loud rock anthem comes from her pocket and she answers it immediately, face a little sheepish at the interruption, “Okay, yeah, be right down.” Wanda hangs up and stands, hands diving into her sweatshirt pockets. “Pizza’s here, I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” 

Vision scoots his chair closer to the desk and grabs the mouse, navigating through the wedding website and playing with the placement of everything. It seems it might be hard to create exactly what he has in mind, though it is possible either a different service or a professional could help them. Otherwise it seems like it should work, the privacy settings making it so they can keep it visible only to those who have the link and they can require all RSVPs and gifts to come through this website, both things that had concerned him with planning the potential for this study. 

Which actually is concerning, a pit growing in his stomach the more feasible this all seems. Technically they can do this ethically. Not only did he spend the afternoon re-reading the federal guidelines on ethical research with humans but he also emailed with the chair of Marvel’s IRB to determine if post-participation consent would keep them to an expedited protocol. Though the chair was unwilling to provide any answer with 100% certainty, she seemed optimistic. Plus if they allow the participants to take the gifts back or if they donate them to a known charity and provide receipts, there is nothing ethically or legally wrong. It’s in the moral side that he still is waging a battle. There is just something about the large-scale deception that bothers him. This is despite the fact that deception is often a part of his research, but rarely ever to the extent of fake websites and actual money being exchanged, thus leaving him in a strong state of dissonance. Vision knows, as is usually the case with cognitive dissonance, it is his attitude that will change, not the behavior, and that is precisely what is happening. The more he thinks about the study, the more he communicates with Wanda, the more compartmentalized his thinking becomes. Usually it is in poor taste to use so much deception, but in this instant, it’s fine. He also wonders if there is a degree of moral disengagement going on, if this will irreparably lower his ethical standards and open him up to a world of many more deceptive studies to this degree. 

“Hope you’re hungry.” The words shatter his internal debate, Wanda’s hands gripping an enormous pizza box. Clearly his surprise is palpable, a half-smile going along with her showing him the box, “They only have one size.” 

Vision joins her at the higher table, taking a slice onto the paper towel she offers and then he follows her to two armchairs that face the whiteboards. “I have found that New Yorkers are very invested in abnormally large pizzas.” It’s why they have to fold the slices in order to eat it with any dignity. His first week here Natasha chastised him for wanting to use a fork and knife, telling him it would not go well for his credibility in the city if he did it. 

“They really are, I love it. So the website will work,” her mind has already moved from the pizza, focusing on the board. “Sounds like you have an idea of what you want to do theoretically,” one of the items that had a star, “have you considered also measuring and accounting for demographics or maybe we need to manipulate the fake bride and groom...or groom and groom...or bride and bride?”

All things he has considered. “I truly like the idea of testing the gift giving based on demographics both of the billionaires and the couple…”

“But.”

“But there are only six hundred and twenty one billionaires in the US.” 

Wanda lowers her pizza to stare at him, “That’s way more than I thought there’d be. That’s a lot.”

“It is.”

A hand comes up to cover her mouth as she speaks, not wanting him to see the bite she took, “But…”

Vision has drawn out several factorial designs in his notebook, always loving the complexity of them and their ability to more thoroughly test theories. “When doing community based research, you should plan for a low response rate, like twenty-five percent,” he places his pizza on a table and goes to the board, uncapping a blue marker, “that would leave us with one hundred and fifty six likely participants. This assumes these are the only ones that look at the website.”

“Do you know if we can track who goes to the site?”

A very pertinent piece of information he does not have the expertise to answer, “I believe that is something we would need to discuss with Computer Science,” her nose crinkles at the suggestion. “When you do a factorial design, so let’s say we did a 2 - framing,” he writes the factors as RSVP first or RSVP second , “by 3 - couple composition,” and then he writes the three options Wanda had provided before, “in order to have sufficient power to get effects we would need roughly one hundred and fifty usable participants.”

“Then we have enough.”

This is where he keeps getting stuck, because technically, yes, they would be fine but he highly doubts the response rate of billionaires is anywhere close to the response rates of more normal incomed individuals. “I worry we will get closer to a 15% response, though I am happy to consider including such a manipulation.” Wanda seems to accept his concerns and not push it, even if her face says she wants to come back to it later. “I do think we can still code and analyze for demographic information of those who respond as it will likely influence their gift giving.” 

“Good.” It is said with finality, seeming to cement their tenuous design. “With quantum probability I want to have as many factors as possible to build the best model.”

Something he assumed would be the case, and something that he also likes to have even with his classical probability. The next question he prefaces with ignorance, “I am not certain how research in physics works,” a preface she lifts an eyebrow towards, on edge and ready to jump at whatever misinformation he might share, “but do you need to make your hypotheses a prior for the model?”

The jump doesn’t happen, simply a silent bite of pizza and an extended silence. “I’ll make some a priori, but I need to really look at all the possible variables we might code for first, which will have to wait until my grant is in on Friday.” Vision nods, mentally leaving that spot blank in the IRB so he does not forget to insert it. “What are you hypothesizing?”

“I am not sure we should share that information…” at least he had assumed they would not so that he does not influence her own hypothesizing or creation of the computational model. “What if my hypothesis influences yours?”

He watches her lips purse and left leg swing up and over the right one, a smugness and challenge in her stare that activates his sympathetic system, the marker passing back and forth between his hands as he waits for her to speak. “Keep your secrets then.”

Instantly his body calms, the threat gone and replaced by a fluttering amusement. “The last major issue,” there are a lot of minor ones they will need to iron out after her grant has been submitted and before the IRB is turned in, “who will be the bride and groom for the website?”

Wanda stands from her chair, hands wiping against her skirt, “Make sure to eat.” 

“Oh, yes.” He grabs his pizza and takes a bite on his way to join her back at the computer, head cocking to the side as she searches for “attractive couples” and scrolls through the pictures. “I do not think we can do that.”

The scrolling stops her “Why not,” said in a way that implies she is aware why not but wants confirmation. 

“What if they do a reverse image search?” The search immediately stops and she closes the page, putting them back to the blank wedding site and its all too familiar out of focus stars against a dark gray sky. “Did you base this on the cover of Rovelli’s book?”

She sits up straighter, shooting him a wink and a sly smirk, “Took you long enough to recognize it, thought it would be fun little Easter egg.” 

“I like it.”

A companionable and studious silence descends, the couple in the stock photo on the website smiling and taunting him with the fact they can’t actually use the picture. He has thought a lot about what to use, knowing that every single wedding website has pictures and without pictures they would potentially be adding a design confound to their study. Perhaps they should have one site without a photo and one with, a possibility he files away for later. “Can we pay some people to come in and take pictures for us?”

Vision has thought of this as well. “We could, though I imagine we will need more than a couple of pictures and I, personally,” he hates to admit this as he believes it makes him sound greedy or overly self-important, “do not wish to use my start-up funds for this since I have already allocated them to other projects.”

“That’s fair,” there is no apparent disgust at his greed, far more prevalent is understanding, “I don’t really have excess funds either to throw at this.” Again they descend into thoughtful quiet, broken again by Wanda. “Do you have any research assistants?” Vision shakes his head, at some point he will, but he has been informed that he needs a functioning lab before he can hire any additional help. “We could ask Sam-”

“No, I do not feel right asking for free labor from Sam’s assistants.” Particularly after all of the odd tasks Vision’s own advisor required of him during graduate school. He vowed he would never put anyone through such hoops. 

Wanda gets up to retrieve another slice, folding it expertly and dangling it into her mouth. It’s at this point that they make eye contact and he almost breaks it, except the way she is staring at him is like one would at a museum, when you see a painting from far away and squint to determine if it is worth leaving your current path or waiting until you mosey on over to that end. Wanda lowers the pizza and tentatively walks towards him. “You know we probably want two people that are reasonably attractive.”

Vision agrees, having already planned a small pilot test for the attractiveness of the photos. “Correct.”

“And we don’t have the money to pay them.”

“Yes, we have already covered that.” Now it feels like being hunted by a shark, the same feeling he had after she suggested this study. 

Wanda sits back down, angling her chair towards him. “Why don’t we do it then?”

“Well, I-” though his mind rages against the idea with a big, flashing neon NO, logic betrays him, mouth drying as his useless tongue is unable to articulate any sound reasons against it. To be truthful, Wanda is attractive and he is not wholly unattractive. Other than his height, he is fairly nondescript from any other white male of his age. There has to be a catch, there has to be some reason this shouldn’t work. “If they search for our images they will be sent to the Marvel Institute’s website and immediately realize our wedding is suspicious.”

Wanda’s eyes narrow, not buying the counterargument. “Well we’ll use different names and we could have a small disguise. Like dye our hair,” something he is not willing to do and nonverbally conveys. “I can dye my hair, always wanted to be a red-head, and you can, I don’t know, wear glasses.”

“That is preposterous.”

The chatter of the keyboard is his only response, her body bending towards the computer until she pulls up a picture and motions towards it, “Works for Superman.” 

It does and, if he remembers correctly, there was a recent study on the effectiveness of disguises that found, as long as the person did not know the individual in the picture, simple disguises like facial hair, altered hair color or style, and yes, a change like glasses effectively made people assume two pictures were different individuals. Empirically and logistically speaking, it is likely their best option. 

“It’ll work.” Wanda’s enthusiasm only seems to grow with each second while his own plummets. “We could even go on fake dates and get a lot of pictures and we won’t have to be paid for it.”

Vision can feel his dissonance being resolved the longer he sits in silence, his lack of verbally declining the option a clear sign he must be, at some level, accepting of it. “It would allow us more control over everything.” 

“It would.”

Appetite gone, Vision stares at his pizza, trying to see if there is any reason not to do it. “Would that be uncomfortable, to take the pictures?”

The unperturbed air from Wanda already answers it, but she adds in an equally casual shrug, “It’s not like we’ll be doing anything more than having to stand close to each other, I mean, we’re practically touching now.” Vision looks down and sees the barely inch of space between their shins and immediately scoots backwards a hair to create a more professional distance. “I don’t mind.” In another circumstance, he would be flattered by the implicit trust she has to even offer this, a clear sign, he thinks, that she does not view him as threatening. Would she be offering this if the other Victor was her collaborator? “But if you aren’t comfortable with it, we’ll find another solution.”

Vision finally looks at her, studying the utter lack of hesitancy on her face and the gentle concern in her eyes about his own feelings on the matter. Social trust and connection is something he has difficulty with in his own life. Logic can help him with this decision. Wanda is trusted by Natasha, a person with even greater social trust issues than himself, and if Natasha trusts her and Wanda is as sincere as she seems now, it should not be an issue. “I suppose it can’t hurt to try it.”

#scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #alternateuniversescarletvision #the vision #mcu #fanfic #mine

[imsfire2]

Lot of memes lately

Number one: I was tagged by the lovely @cats-and-metersticks; thank you for tagging me!

Your questions:

1. List your current WIPs!! 

Eeek.

·         The bargain of liberty – original fic

·         Volume Two of “By stardust and moonlight” – still at planning stage but definitely feels like a WIP in my mind

·         Stardust dancing (completely stalled, to my great shame and sadness)

·         Fragments from the Tale of the Ring - LOTR/Rogue One fusion AU (only ever going to be bits, not the whole thing!)

·         The star of Lyonesse (Arthurian legend/Rogue One AU, stuck on the rocks of angst and the appallingly high Major Character Death factor)

·         A dozen or so assorted one-shots which will eventually be published as more Fragments from the Multiverse    

·         Three attempted re-writes of novel-length fanfic into original fic

·         Five original novel-length fics that stalled between chapter three and chapter eight

2. What’s your favourite thing you’ve ever written? 

>screams weakly and lies down to die< I am so bad at choosing favourites.  I am never sure that anything I write is genuinely any good, but at one and the same time I’m also really childishly loving and protective and generally a fond mama to my own work.  

One answer I could give you is “The eternal love of Gabriel Yeats”.  This is an original story which I wrote in 2005-6 and revised in 2015. It remains unpublished and probably always will, but it’s been shared with a few friends.  I know my writing has got better since then and I know it has many problems structurally and in the internal logic of the plot, but it has a special place in my heart because it was the first full-length story I finished that I felt was genuinely solid and worth reading.

If original work isn’t covered and I have to keep to fic, that makes it even harder to choose!  

In a dark time, the eye begins to see has a place in my heart for similar reasons to Gabriel Yeats; I’m more a natural long-form than short-form writer and it was a delight writing a full-length novel to give our Rogue One heroes a totally different path from hope to victory.  Likewise A rider comes to the valley, which forced me to face the challenge I’m currently baulking at with the Arthurian AU mentioned above, namely writing an AU that is desperately sad instead of a fix-it.  

I very seldom write Baze/Chirrut as I find them hard to get right, but I’m genuinely quite proud of The last dancer, which is about the experience of being part of a very small, very broken diaspora and the decision to hold on to your culture and everything it means in the face of that breaking.

I’m also very fond of some of my bleakest one-shots.  In particular I feel very Loving-Mama towards the non-Rebelcaptain ones, which often don’t get much love, like The mask and In the holding pen, and Recruitment, and The first time.

Also one of my earliest pieces for the Rebelcaptain fandom, Poetry of the First and Second Republics, Vol 3: The War Poets (extract), which is both a really unusual form and canon compliant, but was a very satisfying technical challenge.

3. What are some of your current goals as a writer? 

Keep writing.  Get better at it.  Finish my WIPs.  Start new ones.  Never give up writing.

Also, find ways to get people reading my original work as well as my fanfic.  Find, one day, a genuine old-fashioned agent and get a publishing deal.  Be, not just a writer on AO3 who’s also self-published a couple of novellas on Kindle, but an actual on-paper published novelist with books in bookshops.

4. What first inspired you to write fanfiction? 

Ever since I was little I’ve had ideas about what I would do if I wrote the scripts for assorted films, TV series etc.  My first conscious attempt to write one of these ideas down – completely in secret because I didn’t even know there was such a thing as recognised fan fiction – was a rambling Star Wars story set after “Return of the Jedi”.  Adventures for Luke and a bold and heroic OFC, trying to track down Palpatine’s heir.  Lots of badly-written lightsabre fights, feels, hiding in caves, mutual pining and a solid dose of H/C.  So yes, writing Rogue One fic now is kind of coming full circle for me because it all began with Star Wars!

5. What’s your favourite thing to cook for dinner vs. what’s your favourite meal to eat out? 

When I’m doing the cooking, probably something simple but tasty like a cheese omelette and a salad, or a bean chilli.  Eating out, either eastern Mediterranean/middle eastern food (Turkish, Greek, Cypriot, Lebanese etc.) or south Indian food.

6. What would your dream house be like?

It would be rather larger than a single person has any right to expect!  That way, I could put up guests easily.  It would have high ceilings and large windows, and a big garden with mature fruit trees.  It would either be quite near where I am now, in west London, or somewhere on the coast. It would never be particularly smart inside but it would be comfortable, and there would be a lot of books.  Also cats and dogs.

7. How do you like to start a story? 

With whatever bit of it really wants to be the bit I start with!

I know that sounds daft but I’ve found from experience that waiting for The Right Opening Line to come along can leave an exciting idea completely bogged-down.  Jumping in with the scene that has my energy at the moment, on the other hand, gets things started.  Then I can go back, do the beginning and fill in the gaps, once the blockage has broken.

8. What’s the biggest thing that convinces you to read the second chapter in a multi-chapter fic?

What happens next to these characters?  I need either a plot, or strong character writing, and ideally both.  

9. What fic are you currently obsessed with (any fandom, reading or writing), if any? 

I’m waiting in mixed anguish and awe for the conclusion of the mighty jplus’s historical AU Indigo; suspect I will cry my eyes out several more time before the end.  This series by the same author, The Edge, is also terrific.

And although I fear this will end up as that rare and heart-breaking thing, the canon-compliant AU, I’m eager for the next chapter of @ruby-red-inky-blue aka guineapiggie’s superb The World through a Scope .

10. Describe your perfect Saturday!

Get up, find myself full of energy and optimism, open the blinds to find it’s a perfect sunny-but-not-boiling-hot day; shower, dress, breakfast, make coffee.  Spend the morning writing, without either worrying about what I’m working on or experiencing the urge to procrastinate. Go for a walk along the Thames in the afternoon.  Meet a friend at one of the pubs on Kew Green, have a beer and perhaps watch the last overs of a cricket match on the Green, then stroll into Richmond for a lazy supper out and a movie.

11. Metaphors or similes? 

Both; both is good!

Haven’t analysed my own writing in detail but I’m going to guess I use metaphors more than similes; but I could be wrong!  They both have their place and I’d hate to be denied one or the other.

Thank you for tagging me!

#cats-and-metersticks #thank you for tagging me!

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #48

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Why it sucks to be a snake in space by EboniObsydian for polarspaz Words: 31,825 (8/?) Author’s Summary: It had been a month since the transformations, since the ill trip through an electrical storm transformed the humans into creatures of myth - Shiro became a dragon, Hunk became a troll, Lance became a centaur, Keith became a naga, and Pidge became a gorgon - and there were still things and quirks to get used to. Even so, the castle floors were still cold and slick and Lance still slipped on them when he was unawares. Shiro still scared the heebeegeebeez out of everyone with smoke occasionally emitting from his nose and mouth and his icy touch, Pidge still didn’t dare remove her blindfold around anyone and Hunk still lurked indoors during light hours when planetside. Between him and Shiro though, no one knew whose hoard was bigger. Alternatively titled “Myths in a Space Castle" — Inspired by @polarspaz’s Snakes & Horses AU where Keith is a Naga and Lance is a Centaur. Not strictly adhereing to the AU since Shiro is a chuvash dragon instead of a vampire and Pidge uses female pronouns. Updates sporadically.now you can find me on tumblr! @bucketoffudgeinamuffin My Comments: This is such a FUN fic. It reminds me of a survival fic where characters have to deal with a new and crazy situation and learn how to survive and find food and build a fire and all that. The mythical creatures the paladins turn into are all very fun and interesting and fitting, and the way they have to adapt is so well thought-out and fascinating to read. I’m really enjoying this, and I’m really looking forward to more. This one sucked me in, for sure. The Keith and Lance friendship is especially good, but no one is neglected.

When You Are Alone by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 26,355 Author’s Summary: 5 times Shiro and Ryou disagreed. Updates every other day. My Comments: Part of an excellent, wonderful series in which “Kuron” is redeemed by Team Voltron and stays on as Shiro’s twin, Ryou. This entry is a great exploration of both characters learning to adapt to the changes and exploring their own personalities. Humor, angst, comfort, deep conversations, everything I like in fanfic is there. It’s so good.

humility by bobtheacorn Words: 1,446 Author’s Summary: “Before I turn this on,” Pidge begins, “I’d like to just go on the record and say that Hunk is hands down the best member of this team.” “Seconded,” Lance says without hesitation.Pidge continues, “And his tireless contributions to the emotional well being of his fellow paladins is commendable and beyond reproach. If I had a medal, I would give it to you, Hunk. As a matter of fact, I’m making you one first thing tomorrow.” “Stop, you guys,” Hunk says, and whether he’s feigning being emotional or it’s genuine is hard to say. He’s fanning a hand in front of his face, blinking at the ceiling. His voice is a little choked, “Man, I said I wouldn’t cry.” Keith is sitting beside him on the couch with his arms crossed, bewildered by the formalities. //Keith doesn’t know anything about video games. Outrage ensues. My Comments: This is so cute and funny and adorable. Love these kids hanging out and having fun.

CUPS by SerenePhenix Words: 4,385 Author’s Summary: Coran was willing to sacrifice far more than just his wellbeing for the sake of these young people in his care. Anything to ensure that they could win this war. Anything to ensure they did not have to worry about something like making an alliance. My Comments: When you find a good hurt!Coran fic, you gotta hold on to it, because it’s rare and precious like a jewel. This is great, though of course Coran is kind of an idiot for not just telling someone. But of course he has to be strong. For all the kids. Sigh.

Exploration by luoup (ravenic) Words: 1,573 Author’s Summary: Day 4 Prompt 2: Exploration Shiro & Lance&Hunk: going somewhere new and interesting and fun My Comments: What a great trio! It’s so nice to see them hanging out and chilling and enjoying a cool area. Fun, relaxing read.

in the places where it is soft and quiet by kingwise Words: 2,807 Author’s Summary: Pidge found this rose quartz room one day while exploring what would be her new home. She didn’t quite want to call it that though. Home was rumbling laughter, round glasses, and the smell of frozen peas heating in the microwave. And now, the only thing she had left were the glasses. (When she wore them, it felt like back when she played dress up with Matt. They were a burning memory she clung stubbornly to.) or, where pidge feels terribly sad and misses her family, and lance tries to help in the end (takes place pre-s4) My Comments: Love Lance being such a sweetheart with sad Pidge. Always good to have more of those two.

Sugar Cookies by Gootbuttheichou Words: 2,538 Author’s Summary: Lance is more than thrilled to be attending the Galaxy Garrison in order to become the world’s best pilot; however, he didn’t expect there would be so much studying to do. Luckily, his roommate Hunk is happy to study with him, and happy to bake treats when his friend is gloomy from studying. My Comments: Aw, sweet boys. Hunk is such a good friend. I want them to be roommates in canon so bad, but for now at least I have fics.

Fever Can Wait by oldmythologies Words: 2,138 Author’s Summary: Prompt fill: “Hey there! Can I request a sickfic where Shiro gets a fever so high he starts babbling and gets disoriented. Maybe he gets a cold bath before it gets worse? :O” from crazy-indigo-child on tumblr. My Comments: Really sweet sickfic with delirious Shiro and gentle Keith. Hits the spot.

Fireworks by AmnesiaticRoses Words: 7,397 Author’s Summary: Voltron is treated to a victory party – a planet-wide one. But not all of the locals are celebrating, and are instead looking to exploit the party as the paladins let their guards down. Written from prompts provided from Grimkohai, technically using the one for the third week of October – “Festival” – but if I don’t get this out of my hands I’m going to tweak it into a mess. My Comments: This is an EXCELLENT fic, and the fact that my comment is the only one is an absolute travesty. The action, characterization, and worldbuilding are all fantastic. It feels like an adventure in a place you’ve never been but would like to visit someday. The paladins are all smart and competent, but special spotlight on Lance for being smart and brave while concussed and captured. It’s so good, you guys. Read this fic. Comment. It deserves more love.

as the lion loves the lamb by Demenior Words: 3,986 Author’s Summary: The Lions are powerful, ancient machines that have existed for eons. To be chosen by them is an honor only few have, for they pick only the greatest of heroes to serve them. But to serve a Lion is a life sentence. And a Paladins life is always a short one. The Lions are hungry. My Comments: Seriously horrifying take on what the lions are and what they want. This creeped me out, and it’s pretty rare for words on a page to do that. Excellent stuff.

Cold As Ice (With No Sign Of Life) by PastelClark Words: 1,826 Author’s Summary: It is a dark, terrible thing that only crawls to the surface, like frost over metal, when she is alone. When she feels her paladin go with one of her siblings somewhere far away enough that her hold over the bond fuzzes and fades out, flat-lining into the barest of sensations, and she is left with only herself. And she must be broken, she decides, to feel this way—because she is a leg, meant to be stable and secure and strong, as she has known from the beginning of her creation. Legs do not get paranoid, or frightened, or…or lonely. But she does. When her paladin leaves, the cold sets in. And the cold, it is nothing but lonely. My Comments: Angsty little Blue POV on losing Lance. It hurts.

Chamomile Tea by SerenePhenix Words: 3,937 Author’s Summary: Deciding what’s best for oneself is never easy and just a long process of trial and error. OR: Pidge fucked up and Shiro’s there to help. My Comments: Part of a series, a modern AU where the paladins are roommates and take care of each other. So here’s Shiro taking care of Pidge. Lovely.

Light of the Galaxy by thekingoftrash Words: 5,308 Author’s Summary: Sometimes, it’s the aftermath of freeing a planet that gets you. OR Shiro’s hurt, Hunk’s helpful, and Lance and Keith argue over the proper grammar usage of quiznak. My Comments: Hurt Shiro, supportive team, what else can you ask for?

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This by tymedfire for mssstilinski Words: 3,172 Author’s Summary: Lance gets Earth music again. My Comments: Cute fic with the team appreciating dancer!Lance.

Nose Knows by sedna_mode Words: 1,861 Author’s Summary: Following a one-off comment from Hunk about how good his sense of smell is, the team devise a challenge to test him. The only thing is they… forgot to involve Hunk himself. Good thing he’s always up for a challenge, and Hunk is good.And he knows it. My Comments: Absolutely perfect fic based on a preview from one of the comics. I love this view of Hunk and the team.

Made of Stardust by itsthevoid Words: 3,819 Author’s Summary: Altea was destroyed long ago, and since then, Allura hasn’t had a planet to call her home, not even Earth. This doesn’t mean that she’s homeless. My Comments: Really lovely futurefic in which all of Team Voltron gets to go home, even if it isn’t what they expected. I loved the conclusion.

Spring Gifts by wingedflower Words: 3,535 Author’s Summary: Lance is always homesick, but some days are harder than others. Especially this day, when he would give anything in the universe to be back on Earth with his family. For the time being, his space family will have to do. But maybe it’s not so bad after all. My Comments: I adore the way everyone was so supportive of Lance once they realized he was having a rough time, emotionally. They treated his sadness like a wound, something that deserved to be acknowledged and cared for, and they were all willing to drop everything to do it. Just lovely.

Siren’s Curse by Internal_Screaming Words: 2,051 (½) Author’s Summary: Galra are slowly taking over the kingdom, only a few villages stand against the empire, and even those are disappearing quickly.Pidge remembers the day they took her family, and every day since, she had tried to find a way to get to them. Then her answer comes, as she finds Shiro during a storm. She believes this may be her chance to get on land and find her lost family.Galra are a specific race on earth, mermaids and sirens are different species and believed to be myths. Pirates roam the seas and are known to either give no shits about the war against the Galra or have chosen a side. Usually the side being that of the Galra. My Comments: Really cute fantasy AU with mermaids, sirens, humans, and pirates. Fun read, and I’m looking forward to more.

Survivor’s Guilt by Agapostemon Words: 8,281 Author’s Summary: “What were you doing at my house in pajamas this morning?” Shiro groans.“Oh, uh…” Matt stammers, “Y-your boss called me? You didn’t show up to work, and she was worried. And then I got worried, because… your texts last night were a little scary to begin with, but then you didn’t show up to work? Anyways, I drove over to check on you, and your door was unlocked, so…” he gestures vaguely. My Comments: Modern AU in which Matt supports Shiro through PTSD, depression, and a suicide attempt. It’s pretty dark, but with a hopeful ending. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

stillness by bobtheacorn Words: 3,088 Author’s Summary: “You’re all too young to really understand the nuances of Pac man,” Shiro says, trying to get a rise out of them, though it backfires.“Vintage is cool, Shiro.” “Yeah, old things are in! Why do you think we have so much respect for you?” “Oohoho! Pidge!!” //Coran finds something interesting on the scanners and takes everyone on a detour for some well-deserved rest and reflection. My Comments: It’s so nice to see the Voltron crew just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Fun, relaxing read.

Lost in Translation by EdgarAllenPoet Words: 22,178 Author’s Summary: “Keith shook his head, not knowing how to communicate that he didn’t understand him. Kolivan’s face turned to stone.” My Comments: Keith accidentally goes to an alternate universe and runs into a BoM where no one understands him, and when they do, they don’t believe him. It’s brutal, especially if you’ve read the other fics in this story where Kolivan and Antok are father figures to Keith. Very intense read, I couldn’t stop once I started.

Kiss From a Rose by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 14,176 Author’s Summary: 5 times Shiro got kisses from the team, and one time he returned them My Comments: Absolutely adorable fic, notwithstanding some pain and suffering along the way. All of the platonic kisses were incredibly sweet and cute, and the ending was ridiculously satisfying.

Casting Shadows by BlackFriar Words: 74,777 Author’s Summary: An encounter with an ancient creature leaves Keith a child and Shiro reliving the past. While searching for a way to get their red paladin back, the team uncover a connection between a savage race of aliens and one of the universe’s oldest mysteries…and learn the past is never truly behind anyone. My Comments: This is an absolutely home run of a fic. Intense and horrific at times, but a thrill ride. It weaves together past and present in a great way. This is not a cute, fluffy deaged fic, though. Young Keith is terrified, for good reason, and that never really goes away, though the ending is perfectly satisfying. There’s also a lot about past child abuse that gets really awful at times, and the enemies in this fic are particularly disgusting (think the Reavers from Firefly/Serenity). Warnings aside, though, this is a fantastic fic. Plot, characterization, and worldbuilding are all spot-on. I really enjoyed it.

Muzzled by Emls479 Words: 5,181 Author’s Summary: The blade of Marmora aren’t the only ones with time altering technology. Days on the outside can be months within. Keith finds this out a little too late. My Comments: Holy crap, poor Keith. This was brutal, most especially because from his perspective, he was abandoned by his team, even while they were doing everything they could to rescue him. The comfort at the end was very good, but oh man, Keith goes through some awful stuff in this one.

If It Helps You Breathe by LynnLarsh Words: 5,632 Author’s Summary: A bad night with alien liquor puts Lance in a headspace he’s spent years trying to get out of. It’s a downward spiral that he eventually realizes he needs help dealing with.Trigger warning for self harm. The tags are important on this one. Please tread carefully. My Comments: Warning for self harm, so mind the tags. I really appreciate that Lance sought help on his own, eventually, because I know how hard that is. The hurt/comfort is good, and it’s realistic about how hard it is to deal with issues like this.

Grey by Skiewrites Words: 4,281 Author’s Summary: Grey is a secondary quintessence, made of Black and White quintessences. It represents the movement and manipulation of quintessence from one host to either another host or outside the host in an unnatural form. The most common use for Grey quintessence is during attacks in the form of lightning bolts. The physical representation of Grey quintessence is storm. Lance learns a lot from his family during his childhood, ranging from him being an alien and about the species that destroyed his home planet 10,000 years ago, to the legends of Voltron and the quintessence they use to protect the lion they’re currently hiding with.It’s a shame he never really said goodbye. My Comments: Really interesting twist on the concept of Altean Lance, with great worldbuilding and family interactions. I’d be interested to read more in this ‘verse.

Honest Work by juniperallura Words: 1,365 Author’s Summary: Based on my random HC that Shiro likes to garden because it’s peaceful and dear god someone give that man some rest My Comments: A relaxing little fic with Shiro getting some satisfaction from working with his hands.

cutthroat by buttered_onions Words: 1,363 Author’s Summary: Lance volunteers.(A Voltron/Hunger Games AU.) My Comments: Another amazing AU from buttered_onions, though Hunger Games scenarios always make me sick. There’s going to be more, but this is already brilliant.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Shadows of Stars (33466 words) Coran's Guide to the Care and Keeping of Earthling Humans (37525 words)

#voltron legendary defender #fic rec #weekly voltron fic recs #vldgen

[triplet-vo]

hurtling into stardust (pt 1)

DigiOTPWeek Day 3: Sci-fi AU

Word Count: 1227

Pairing: Ishida Yamato/Takenouchi Sora

Cool metal pressed against the base of Yamato’s skull. “Don’t move.”

He held his hands up but turned his head a fraction until he saw a slight woman with red hair and a side shave in his peripheral vision. “What is this?”

"We’re being watched by the security pods,” said Takenouchi, her voice strained. “Don’t say a word. Nod if you understand.” 

He nodded.

“Ichijouji’s gang kidnapped Yagami Hikari,” explained Takenouchi quickly. “He burned all my contacts for good measure. You’re the only person left who can help me get off this godforsaken planet and catch him before he gets the chance to deliver her to the Dark Masters.”

The feeling of dread in Yamato’s stomach only grew with each word she said. “Takeru,” he blurted out.

She jabbed the metal barrel of her blaster hard into his neck, and he winced. “Why do you think I’m holding you at gunpoint? I don’t want them to think you’re coming with me willingly. Besides, Takeru's smart enough to take care of himself. Now. Are you going to help me or not?”

Yamato nodded reluctantly.

“Then let’s go.”

“You’re mad at me,” Sora remarked calmly.

Their escape flight from Knowhere had gone remarkably well, considering that she was now an outlaw and every mercenary worth their salt would be looking for her. But Ishida had done his part: he knew all of the dock guards personally and they didn’t give him a second look when he left port. Still, Sora had kept her blaster in hand until Ishida was able to safely pilot the Garurumon into hyperspace. She only relaxed she was certain that no one was following them.

However, Ishida remained grim faced and rigid at the controls of his ship, only speaking up once to clarify the coordinates that Sora gave him. That wasn’t unexpected: he wasn’t a chatty person by nature and she technically had commandeered his beloved ship. But there was also something deliberately cold about his manner toward her. 

She realized what it was after a moment’s thought.

“Look, I get that you’re worried about Takaishi,” she coaxed. “But I swear, he’ll be fine. I’m not totally reckless. I had word sent to him to go into hiding. He’s probably heading to the Underground now - ”

Ishida pounded his fist on the console. Sora jumped.

“Autopilot engaged,” the ship’s AI declared robotically.

Without another word, Ishida left the cockpit. After a moment’s hesitation, Sora got up to follow him, her hand drifting cautiously over her blaster holster. When she found him again, he was banging around the storage and repair bay. She leaned against the counter and watched him. “You know, you’re doing a really good impression of a sulky preteen girl. Wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

That didn’t get a reaction. She went for the jugular.

“I thought you would be happy that I chose you as my pilot, Ishida. I did consider asking Takaishi instead, but  - "

Sora was prepared this time for Ishida slamming a drawer shut; it still made her wince, though. “Shut up,” he snarled.

She straightened and crossed her arms. “You chose to help me,” she reminded him. “Remember? I gave you the choice."

Ishida's entire body bristled like a wolf defending its territory. “Not much of a choice,” he ground out. “The only reason I’m here is because I didn’t trust you not to kill me and take my ship for good measure if I said no.”

That stung more than she would admit. Sora carefully kept her expression passive. “Should have turned me in to the dock guards, then.”

He scoffed. “Your reputation precedes you, Takenouchi. I’m not fool enough to attempt a double-cross.”

Sora examined him for a minute and then unstrapped her blaster. Ishida tensed - except she put it on the counter. She slid it down to him before crossing her arms again.

He glared at her as though she was pointing the blaster at him point-blank instead of disarming herself.  “What are you doing?”

“If you’re only here because you don’t trust me, then you might as well kill me now and go back to Knowhere,” Sora told him coolly. “It’s not a bad idea, actually. There’s a huge bounty on my head - more than enough to buy that ship you know that Takaishi’s been wanting since forever. If you kill me and bring my body back to Ichijouji’s goons, they’ll know for sure that you weren’t my accomplice. You’d be able to keep your brother safe.”

Ishida didn’t move. Hell, it even looked like he had stopped breathing altogether. Was that temptation in his eyes? Sora wasn’t sure.

She wiped the cold sweat from her palms on her pants before she continued, “Even if my message doesn’t get to him... Takeru keeps his ears to the ground. He’ll hear about all of our disappearances and know it’s safer to go into hiding too. He’s a survivor.” She gave a short, hard laugh. “Honestly, his odds of survival are a lot higher than the rest of us right now.”

He picked up the blaster. “Not as high as it would be if I returned home now.”

“That’s true,” she admitted, watching his face for any indication of his thoughts. Ishida was a better poker player than her, though; his eyes were entirely opaque. “But really, how safe will any of us be if the Dark Masters get their hands on Hikari? You think life is bad now? Just wait until they have the strongest Oracle in the Seven Realms under their power.”

“I thought that was just a rumor,” Ishida said sharply. “You mean it’s true? Yagami can see the future?”

Sora shook her head. “Not just the future. She can also see possibilities. All possibilities. ‘Royally fucked’ doesn’t even begin to describe how I think about our species’ chances of survival right now.”

Ishida turned the blaster over in his hands contemplatively. “I assume you have a plan. If it’s true what you’re saying, Ichijouji isn’t going to be transporting her on some lightweight cargo ship. And he’ll definitely be flying with a lot of muscle to make sure he doesn’t lose her.”

“I know. I do have a plan.” She hesitated. “I just need to know that I can count on your help. I can’t do this alone.”

It felt like an age before he nodded reluctantly. “I’m in. We can’t let the Dark Masters have her.”

Relieved, Sora sighed and then offered him a real, if tired, smile. “Thank you." She held out her hand for her blaster.

He looked at her outstretched hand. “Oh, this?” Ishida tucked the blaster into his belt and had the audacity to smirk at her. “Nah, I’m keeping this. Let’s call it... your commission fee. For hiring me and my ship.”

She gaped at him and then narrowed her eyes. “You son of a -”

He neatly sidestepped her lunge and then ducked her follow-up punch. “You got me on my ship by force; the least you could do is let me have your blaster.” Ishida slipped out of the repair bay and strode to another part of the ship. “Are we going to start planning this rescue attempt or what?” he called back.

Sora gave an inarticulate scream before stalking after him. She was going to make him pay.

Read the full fic here:  AO3 | FF.net

<< Day 2: Superhero AU | Day 3 | Day 4: Sci-fi AU (Pt 2) >>

#digiOTPweek #digimon fic #sorato #digimon #digimon adventure #takenouchi sora #ishida yamato #sci-fi au #this was unexpectedly a lot of fun #but mostly stressful #details borrowed from gotg and star wars #I have so many ideas for how this could spin out??? #oh no #it's still the 16th here so this counts for day 3 #writing prompt

[thejamesoldier]

Sneaky Peeky!

Hi there! So as you know I’ve been working on that Steve x guardianangel!reader au and I’ve written some of it. I’ll be posting the first chapter pretty soon but for some reason I can’t control myself with this fic and I have this need to share it already. So here I am, succumbing to my weakness and thirst for approval, giving you guys a little sneak peek of the story. 

(Let me know if you like it or if you have requests on how you want the story to go or suggestions! I’m all ears dolls xxx) 

1945 - Somewhere over the Atlantic

The wind hisses nastily through the smashed holes of the window wall in front of him. He stares out at the most beautiful horizon he has ever seen. Endless creams and blushes and pastel oranges dance through winking heather clouds under the broad warm spotlight of the setting sun.

You hover unseen above Steve Rogers as he sits at the controls of the doomed aircraft.

For the first time in your celestial existence, you are paralyzed. It’s a human emotion, a shackle that is somehow transcending and chaining you to the spot. You are a being that is supposed to be above the reaches of manifest life, above the limits of the living and the dead, above it all. But here and now, watching the cold wind scrape its fingers through your human’s golden hair, you realize that there is absolutely nothing you can do.

Because your human -- Steve -- has made a decision. He has chosen.

His gaze burns long and wide at the view in front of him for another moment, an innocent fear coloring the constant anger swirling in the never easing neptune whirlpools of his irises.

He rips his gaze away and shoves it down at the frantically flickering control panel below him, smashing his gloved finger against a button or two,

“Come in! This is Captain Rogers! Do you read me?”

There’s some rustling over the static radio line before finally a frantic: “Steve?!”

Peggy, you recognize immediately. Your all seeing eyes blur a little as your superior Sight nudges into and borrows half the gaze of Asta, Peggy’s Guardian, who hovers over Peggy too as the human woman sits huddled up to a control panel of her own. With one eye on Steve and the other on Peggy you already know how this is going to end. You knew how it was going to end the second Steve took a look at the control panel.

Steve has chosen.

Out of uncharacteristic, you dare say human, panic you surge forward flapping your wings about in quick shaky movements as you veer around Steve and the chair and frantically take in the screaming controls of the panel. Steve is speaking to Peggy, the words deaf to your invisible ears as the realization that you’re done hits you.

Steve is going to die. He’s choosing to die. You know your fingers can’t actually touch any of the controls but you slam all of them anyway, growing more hysterical as you watch your hands move right through the solid metal.

You’re going to be ripped from him.

You’re going to be taken from him.

Once he dies you’ll guide him to your world, take him to the stars and make stardust of his sins and immortalize him as whatever the great abyss deems him worthy to exist as. Maybe his soul will go right back down to Earth, open the eyes of a newborn, or return as a dog, or maybe he’ll be sent to an entirely different universe. You wonder if he might be chosen to be a Guardian, like you.

You don’t have a heart, technically, but the core of your being clenches and throbs as you feel the pull of the stars reaching down through the atmosphere and gently dragging you away from him, warning you that his death is nearing and your job is finished.

Death is not the end, you know this from the near eternity of your existence seeing as you’re one of the original Guardian’s, the oldest to Guard a Human Soul on Earth for over a millennium, but you can’t help the overwhelming panic that your human’s death is happening too soon. You have been caught off guard.

That has never happened to you, in all of your time Guarding souls throughout thousands of universes and thousands of planets and thousands of life forms, you have never once been reluctant -- afraid -- to let a soul pass.

The aircraft groans the prophecy of its nearing tragedy while Steve once again finds himself staring out at that gorgeous view as the clouds give way to the ominous smirking ice below. Diving through Earth’s parting gift of beauty, art and sky, Steve speaks almost in reflex with Peggy. His gaze locks on the ice growing bigger and more menacing with each second.

You release a celestial cry, a sound of defeat that echos into the universe travelling through time and space warning every Guardian of what it feels like to fail. Without much else left to do you shove yourself between Steve and the controls directly facing him as he stares straight through you, human eyes untrained and unable to stand a sight as pure as you.

Bringing your hands up to cup his sweaty dirty cheeks, you watch the fear -- hatred -- bravery -- regret -- and most potently anger battle in the big blue twin oceans of his eyes as his death nears. You see that moment when it really clicks that he’s gonna die reflect in his pupils.

“Peggy,” Your human whispers as you don’t dare remove yourself from him. You try to wrap Steve in as much Grace as you can muster, all the Grace you have even if it can’t help him now.

He has chosen.

“I’m here,” Peggy hushes as obvious tears make themselves known through the radio by the quiver in her voice.

The ice is close now. You can sense the chill in the air even though you can’t really feel it. You move your wings so they wrap protectively around Steve even though they’d go right through him, your beings on such a different frequency of existence it would be impossible for you two to actually touch. Not pulling away, you make yourself watch this. You make yourself watch the horrifically brilliant culmination of every human emotion explode in Steve’s eyes like ancient stars collapsing in silent decimation among the infinite black.

There are a few moments of just wind and Steve’s heartbeat. The look in his irises reminds you of the first time he opened his eyes to see you hovering over him in his hospital bassinet (babies can handle the sight of your kind, the innocence of newborn life touches the wavelength that you exist on just barely enough to see you). That same magnificent awe and fear of the world he had as an infant mirrors in his eyes now before he dies.

A complete circle.  

Steve’s lashes surrender and close seconds before the ice embraces the aircraft with greedy cold arms. Something tears in your core, an awful wrenching feeling as the great hands of the universe reaches down and tears your wings from your body, stripping you of your Grace, before you dissipate into simple matter with a burst of light, scaring this moment on the infinite timeline with a bright angry flare.

All is quiet for one beat, and then the universe gasps.The great hands have made a mistake.

Fate sneers as it steals your wings back. For the world is not done with Steve Rogers yet, and there can’t be a Steve Rogers without his Guardian Angel.

Fate returns you to your Guardian form and flings you back down. You fall from the black abyss and plummet to Earth, to your human. And for exactly 67 Earth years you protect Steve with your arms, wings, and Grace, creating a temporary cocoon of stardust feathers and celestial skin.

The scientists will say it was the layers of ice that preserved Captain America, but no one will catch the delicate imprint of feathers on the ice that touched his body.

I wasn’t sure if I should tag my permanent lovelies cause it’s not technically an update, but your opinions on the story I worry about the most so I thought why not. Sorry if it was annoying!!! xxx

Permanent Tag List: @evilmermaidsinc, @buckyandsebsinbin, @simplyme8308, @captain-chimichanga, @mellifluous-melodramas, @creideamhgradochas, @notsoprettykitty, @ryverpenrad, @mrtinslydia / @whintersoldiers, @the-one-and-only-vampcake, @james-bionic-barnes, @badassbaker, @kenobi-and-barnes, @fangasms101, @almondbuttercup, @mar-gega, @vacam79, @nenyakj, @angryschnauzer, @rosegoldarmour, @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @takemtoneverland91, @jenairedale, @musichowler, @seargantbcky, @mllx-anazra

#Nikki muses #Nikki writes #Sneak Peek! #Steve x reader #GuardianAngel!Reader #Steve Rogers fic

[bngtnblues]

letters to an angel

genre: college AU/angst

author’s note: I’ve written three jimin fluff drafts but at the end, unsurprisingly, it’s got to be an angst. Warning: this scenario does have mentions of depression, mental disorders, and death. Credit to @saliechelon255 for making the beautiful gif above ♥‿♥   hope yall will like my first scenario for our chimchim (｡◕‿‿◕｡) and thanks to the lovely anon who requested and had to wait quite long for it. oh, and remember to request!!!

pairing: jimin x reader | scenario

blurb: A bunch of scattered letters from a girl to a boy who stole her heart and took it beyond the stars and above.

////01

Dear Jiminie,

My hands are shaking now as I’m writing this. It’s been a year and they still tremble whenever the pen begins to nearly bead onto the page. It’s a sight I’ve gotten used to every day. I guess, whenever I try to start this letter, it’s as if an upsurge of fear and all the anxiety that’s taken so long to stumble through appears in a cataclysm of waves. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and pray it doesn’t bury me.

I’ve written only seven lines and I can already feel it in my chest.

Shit. I’m crying.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I promised myself I could do this. I promised myself that I could write this letter. I promised so many promises it seems I only break them.

I miss you so much it scares me to the point of-

I can’t do this. I can’t stop crying and the paper’s all drenched from my tears and the ink’s blotched and everything is a mess.

I’m sorry.

I’ll try again tomorrow. I promise.

I’m so sorry.

////03

Dear Jiminie,

It’s my third letter. I’ve learnt to domesticate the upsurges and the waves now. Sometimes, my vision starts to blur and my hands turn numb but the thought of you somehow reading these letters has become a constant comfort.

It was my therapist who suggested the idea. Therapist Joon as I like to call him. He’s my second one so far and he’s not so bad too. At any rate, writing to you is growing into an addiction, Jiminie. It’s the only thing I look forward to doing in the extent of this twenty-four-hour span. Nowadays, I live in a perennial state where I’ve come to accept pessimism, with all of its negative intentions, because there seems to be no good in this world and it’s exhausting trying to find some.

I thought you’d want to know that Taehyung’s moved out of your dorm, he couldn’t bear sleeping in there and you’ll find him most of the time dozing off in the theatre’s backstage. I barely see Hoeseok anymore. He reminds me with monthly texts of the upcoming dance productions but he and I both know, what’s the point of going when you won’t be there. I haven’t seen Yoongi ever since you left. I once got a random postcard from Quebec wishing me well and as for Jungkook… he’s not doing too well, Jiminie. I’ll see him in one of my lectures with dark circles and he’s so thin now. He’s apparently been diagnosed with insomnia ever since he found you that day.

You know where I am right now? I’m sitting on our bench, the one on the beach near your house. I used to wait here while you were at rehearsals, the faint breeze brushing my nose and a clear sight of the stars sparkling in a world of darkness. It seemed like hours since I could finally see you running with a bag of snacks in your hand as an apology. You’d be panting when you reach me, kissing away the small pout on my lips considering even a small kiss from you, Jiminie, is like setting off a kaleidoscope full of stardust in me. It would leave me always airheaded. You had the kind of effect that could make a shrivelling weed convince itself it was a rose in full blossom.

We would sit side by side, you gazing at the sky, and me gazing over at you. Your eyes would be shining from the reflection of the stars, your hair matted from sweat but I would still sweep them over, your cheekbones glistening under the light as you patiently sipped on the bottle of milk.

You once pointed out a star in the sky, almost invisible to an eye and said, “ I promise one day, I’ll go as far as giving you that star Y/N.”

I remember scoffing, “As if. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Park Jimin.”

You turned to me, your eyes no longer shining and whispered, “Believe me, Y/N, I intend on going.”

And you did go and I’m still waiting here, Jimine. Still waiting for you give me that star.

////04

Dear Jiminie,

It’s early morning here and I can’t sleep, love. My mind has become cursed from thinking too much. It’s gotten used to wandering off into different dimensions where you’re still lying beside me.

Your brother came by my dorm yesterday. He’s taller now, probably taller than you. He talked about the how your father’s changed and how your mother keeps calling your voicemail.  Then there was an awkward silence between us. He left after awhile. He looks so much like you, Jiminie.

I’ve realised it’s been one year and twenty-one days. One year and twenty-one days without those sweet coaxes of whispers into my ear. One year and twenty-one days without the feeling of your soft tufts of hair between my fingers. One year and twenty-one days without the stroke of your lips against mine. One year and twenty-one days since I’ve felt your fingers grasp mine as you hummed a melody while we walked to the library. One year and twenty-one days without hearing you laugh at the most pointless things. One year and twenty-one days since I’ve seen that smile that inexorably causes my breath to hitch.

It’s been one year and twenty-one days since you decided your life wasn’t worth living, Jiminie, and once again, I sit on the edge of this bed, inebriated with silent tears.

////06

Dear Jiminie,

Everything sucks. Professors piss me off with their overly-worrying questions, lectures tend to be the only time I can fall sleep, and my roommate is a bitch who thinks I need to ‘get back in the market.’

I told her to fuck off. She wasn’t too pleased and when I think about it, you would have made me apologise to her.

Anyway, I ate lunch with a group of friends today. Well, technically I sat with a tray of untouched stew while watching everyone smile and laugh while I didn’t. Nowadays, it takes actual effort to fake one or the latter and I don’t even have the energy to do that. On the other hand, the way people glance at me as I walk past or the way they talk to me now makes me wonder sitting on the edge of my bed isn’t a bad idea after all.

In the loneliest of nights, I find myself looking for your things, Jiminie. Like yesterday, I found a CD filled with your favourite music and there’s this particular song you always used to play to which you’d literally sweep me off my feet, making me abandon whatever I was doing, and waltz us around the room.

Remember that, Jiminie?

And a week ago, I found your scarf which you forced me to wrap around my neck on our second date, even when it wasn’t that cold. You were such a cheeseball. You told me to hold onto it with crimson cheeks and then shyly uttered that it suits me way better than it did for you.

I should have given it back.

It still smells like you.

////07

Dear Jiminie,

Therapist Joon asked me when was the last time I felt happy. I said I’m always happy. I talk when I’m happy. I breathe when I am happy.  I smile when I’m happy. I’m even happy when I’m supposed to be sad.

He said that was one shit of a lie he’s ever heard.

////09

Dear Jiminie,

Sometimes I wish I never met you because then, I wouldn’t have any sleepless nights and I wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that this world can be so fucking cruel.

Does that make me a fool?

////12

Dear Jiminie,

Talking. Eating. Breathing. Sleeping. Everything hurts really. I don’t understand why I’m still here. I stay up at night thinking where you are and where you’ve been and where you’re going and every night I wonder when you’re coming back.

Therapist Joon read me a chapter from this book today. It was about a boy, who kept all of his emotions and troubles locked up inside a clear blue bottle. He tossed the bottle far into the sea, except he didn’t see the thin, slithering piece of string camouflaged around his ankle. Slowly, it anchored him down and then one day the bottle cracked. It cracked so bad the boy found his reflection the next morning with jagged lines running all over his face.

I told Joon I hated the story. It was too metaphorical for my liking.

He then finished off the session with a conclusion that a part of me blames myself for what happened and just like the boy, I’m bottling it all up.

He told me I need to start accepting your death.

death / deth / (noun) : the end of life of a person. the destruction or permanent end of something. period of greatest darkness, coldness, etc.

////13

Dear Jiminie,

There’s a red traffic light incessantly blinking inside me. It’s been like that ever since I wrote you the previous letter.

I knew a boy who was considered a disappointment in his parent’s eyes. Who was constantly reminded of the disreputable son - the auspicious heir who let down his family to become a dancer. All the more, the boy soon found judgement in everything, the dark thoughts of mediocrity and imperfection hissed in his mind while he twirled and leapt on stage. When he thought he could leave everything behind, it slowly ravaged inside him because he learnt to wear his happiness like some sort damnation, something he was forced to believe he could never truly deserve.

Along came his artful way to pretend which had everyone completely fooled. He plastered on smiles, always laughed a little more than needed, the persona never faltering.

You had us completely fooled, love.

But I started to notice everything, Jiminie; the sharp shards of glass in you, the tearstains you drowned in oceans the night before, the thorns you dug into your skin and scars you hid so shrewdly, how food had become your enemy and lying your best friend.

And I tried Jiminie. You know I tried. I tried to glue back the pieces that were hopelessly thrown away, I tried to take your pain away, even if it was only for a few minutes, praying when I was finished, you’d see yourself the way I saw you.

It was too late, though. I was so blinded by the light of saving you, I didn’t realise how there were still empty spaces embed in between the pieces, a bottomless vacuity where hopeful thoughts perished, and even if I took away your pain for a moment, it returned greater, more malignant, more poisonous each day. You told me with a sad smile there wasn’t any hope to begin with. As if it was the undeniable truth I had to accept.

But I couldn’t force myself to believe that. And I still can’t.

Did you honestly think it would’ve been easier for everyone if you just killed yourself, Jimin?!

Jungkook said you didn’t leave a note behind that day and I’m glad you didn’t because that type of notes hold a bunch of sorrys and goodbyes which embody complete lies. You’re not sorry for leaving me here. You’re not sorry for anything and I hate you so much for that.

////14

Dear Jiminie,

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I look up into the night sky and it’s no longer the dark blue I once saw. It’s black and it’s dead and a star from the corner of my eye sits in space, unexceptionally desolate and dim, trying its utmost to shine in the night sky.

How come the night sky reminds me of you and the star of myself?

My breath and tears are all coiled into one substantial blob and my whole body feels like collapsing into destruction all because of you. You, who used to make daisies bloom onto my cheeks and orchids onto my heart. You, who took in complexity and emitted simplicity. You, who danced like a tragedy and now all of this makes my chest hurt.

I think you’ve turned me into a masochist, love. I think I like how my chest hurts when I remember the way you smelled like strawberries and the way your giggles still chime in my ears. Your cold fingers leaving chills on my skin and the spearmint your breath blew across my face.  I remember the irregular galaxies inside your eyes and your nose tickling my neck and your arms which surrounded me at night.

I’ve succumbed myself to it.

I hate you but I’m in love with you. I hate you and I don’t want to love you anymore. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

////15

Dear Jiminie,

Truth: I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I want to hate you but I still want to love you.

I’m such a mess.

////17

Dear Jiminie,

Please come back.

I swear to god, I would do anything for you to come back.

Please, Jiminie, just come back so I can hear your heart beating and hold you tight and play with your hair and we can talk about anything or dance to anything.

I love you so much. Please come back.

Please.

////20

Dear Jiminie,

I’m standing on top of a building, and no, I’m not going to jump. Although, I would really like to sleep for a very long time.

I’m standing on top of a building, looking down onto the gleaming maze of a city, thinking about the time my nonexistent voice whispered, shouted, begged for you to not go.

I once asked you why you desperately wanted to leave. You tilted your head back and a low chuckle flew out of your mouth with irony. That sight will always be scratched in my mind, love. The airy eyes, deprived of any care in the world, lit up by one single notion, and then you said, “That’s where my paradise will be and this is my hell.”

You were always selfish.

I wanted you to realise paradise was actually here.                                        I guess I was always selfish too.

////21

Dear Jiminie,

Hoseok spotted me on the beach, lying on the sand and the shells like a corpse. He asked me how I was. I couldn’t find the right words to say I’ve gone mental when it comes to my dead boyfriend so I chose to reside with the simple “I don’t know anymore.”

Which is the reality after all because I have no words to express how I feel. One minute, I’m okay then the next, I feel as if I could implode. I never chose to feel like this. I search for a place where the emotionless are but I think that’s inevitably impossible.

////24

Dear Jimine,

I’m watching the sunrise and it’s moments like this where you feel as if everything in the world stills to a halt and it’s like there’s a second where the universe tries to become like cosmos. There’s no noise, and yet, the birds keep singing, and there are so much light and darkness in one unified assortment.

Today’s your birthday, Jiminie, and I’ve realised saying goodbye to someone does hurt but you know what’s more painful? When you ask someone to stay when you know they want to leave so badly. You can’t change their mind no matter how many times your voice becomes raw from shouting and begging and the worst part is when they actually leave and you finally realise the proof that you didn’t change their mind one bit.

It makes me think that you never really needed me the way I need you.

Happy birthday, Jiminie.

////26

Dear Jiminie,

My roommate-who-I-never- talk-to-and-who-says-the-wrong-things-at-the-wrong-time made me sit down and watch stupid kitten videos.

I laughed and smiled once during all of it. She’s not as bad as I thought she was.

////27

Dear Jiminie,

This is what happened today.

therapist Joon: so, how are you today, Y/N?

“good”

therapist Joon: ahh, good. A word that seems so complete but isn’t.

I shrugged. The man is crazy philosophical.

therapist Joon: what I meant to say is how are you really today? Because when I ask you how you are, I really want to know.

“That’s great.”

therapist Joon: you know, Y/N? grief comes with a whirlwind of emotions which a human mind can’t fully comprehend and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know I’ve told you this before but keeping all that emotions deep beneath you is not going to make you understand anything nor will it help you.

“…”

therapist Joon: I’m not going to force you to say anything about Jimin. I know you talking about him is difficult and the letters seem to be doing some progress but just-just tell me if he liked the cafeteria food or if he hated the library because it has poor ventilation or something. Opening up about the tiniest details about him will help, Y/N. I promise.

“…..They gave out egg salad for lunch. He always hated it. It has that horrible smell.”

////30

Dear Jiminie,

I visited you today. I brought cherry blossoms and white carnations because they were your favourite. Funny how I used to put flowers in your hair and not on your grave.

////31

Dear Jiminie,

You loved rain and I hated it but today, it doesn’t bother me for the first time. I’m actually liking the sound of the drops hitting the window, exuding nostalgia of many things that has happened and never will happen. Stormy junctures like these make me hope that there are people who are just as lost as I am.

////36

Dear Jiminie,

The strangest thing happened today. I opened my eyes and it’s not so dark anymore. There were yellows and greens. There were pink and oranges. The night sky was still dead black and I can see that one star unconditionally shining to it’s uttermost, and the fact it keeps on shining in an abyss of total darkness made me think maybe it’s not so bad here.

These letters are becoming shorter. Sorry.

////37

Dear Jiminie,

Today, I ran into Jungkook and I guess it was something in his voice that made me sit down with him on a nearby bench. It was complete silence until he asked me why is it that the dead never really leave? Why does it feel like you’re still here?

I didn’t know how to answer since I didn’t know the answer itself.

He started crying after that and I’ve never seen Jungkook cry before. He was mumbling hastily that it was his fault that you’re gone and if he didn’t leave you alone in your dorm, none of this would happen. He was always so close with you, love.

Then, I hugged him. I hugged him so tight and god, he’s so thin. I was so scared that he would break from the pressure.  

I gave him Joon’s number and an apple. Hopefully, he’ll use both.

////40

Dear Jiminie,

I went to see your parents. Your brother wasn’t home so it was just your father, who stares out into the distance now, and your mother, who’s locked herself up in your bedroom. She’s been like that ever since they cut your phone line. The butler still remembers me and the gardener gave me a tulip when I left. Your father no longer looks at me with dissatisfaction and I no longer look at him with despise. I guess we’re both mutual now.

////100

Dear Jiminie,

You existed for an innumerable number of reasons and I wish I could have told you each one, every day so you could have realised how much you matter and how much you will always matter to everyone you’ve left with a little imprint of yourself in their lives. You’ve only thought of yourself as a flaw who wasn’t worth being adored, worth being loved, worth being happy, worth having everything or being someone. You were flawed but yet you were immaculate and somehow you forgot you were worth anything at all.

Sometimes I forget that you’re not here with me, Jiminie. Sometimes I see a cute dog or hear something funny while I walk down the street and think that I’ll tell you later and then I’ll remember that I can’t because you’re dead and no amount of pleading or anger or sadness will bring you back. It was the undeniable truth that I’ve come to accept along with the reality that I’m still a collateral mess and I’ll always have bad days because they hold equal importance as the good ones.  

I’m in a place in my life now where things are getting better. I’ve started up a little group at our college that raises awareness about suicide. I don’t want anyone else to experience the crippling pain of losing someone to it. I don’t want anyone else to experience what you felt here.

I’ve stopped going to Therapist Joon and on my last session, he told me how some people believed that the dead pervades in the creation of this world which was comforting because it’s nice to know you are in the trees and the ocean I walk past every day or in the stars.I bought Joon a bunch of mixtapes as a thank-you gift and he’s invited me to his boyfriend’s restaurant which I fully intend on going.

Taehyung no longer sleeps in the backstage of the theatre ever since the staff found out. Hoseok’s got a girlfriend and I’ve watched one dance production so far. Never as good as the ones you were in, Jiminie. Taehyung says Yoongi’s now somewhere in Australia. I don’t think he has a plan to ever come back here. Jungkook’s doing well. He goes to Joon now and most days we meet at a cafe so he has someone to talk to.

Your brother’s gotten a huge football scholarship and your parents are actually content with that. They’re all coping in their own ways and I try to visit them from time to time but it still hurts.

This is probably my last letter I’ll write to you. I want you to know I’ll always love you because I think even twenty years from now, I’ll still love you with all my heart could offer. There will presumably never be a day that I won’t miss you. This sounds all cliche and sappy. I guess I got that from you.

But you know what, Jiminie?

Love surpasses the borders of death and me living on this earth without you doesn’t matter anymore because one day, I’ll see you on the other side when it’s my time to get there.

Yours forever,

Y/N

ب_ب

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