#this is what i was doing a few afternoons ago.... just compiling this.

[forfucksakesniall]

Heyy i love ur writing so much and i got this idea the other day so basically we all know lewis will be such a good dad and so can u do where lewis gets forced by his teen daughter to watch edits of him on tiktok and make him react to it🫶🏻

Change some bits sorry. Hope you still like it! Thanks for the request.

Pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: TOO MUCH FLUFF, Pipes by Christina Aguilera.

"Daddy, can I play, please?" his 7-year-old daughter asked him. "Um... sure, baby," he replied, handing her his phone and letting her do whatever.

She was getting bored from staying in his office all day because mommy couldn’t watch her today, so daddy needed to take her to work with him.

He was on his computer, learning all the data from previous races, and everyone was minding their own business.

For her age, she basically knows how to use it. It's amazing what a kid can learn at such an age.

After a few minutes, she finds the TikTok app and starts scrolling. She suddenly giggles when she sees a video compilation of her daddy laughing like an old man.

Lewis didn’t notice her giggling, thinking it was some cartoon video or whatever.

Then he sees another of her daddy getting caught being himself. She giggles louder than before, which now caught Lewis’ attention. He turns and looks next to her. ”What’s so funny, darling?” he leans closer to see the phone and sees it. ”Daddy is being silly,” she says. He smiles at her and gives her a pinch on the cheek.

”Oh yeah? You think daddy was being silly.”

”Aw!” She pulls away his hand and sticks out her tongue.

He continues watching with his daughter who’s now completely distracted from work. She scrolls down and sees an edit of him from before and after.

“Why is your hair like that?”

”Cuz’ it's an interview I did a long time ago. I haven't grown my hair out yet.”

”Hmmm,” she says with dissatisfaction. ”What? Do you like my hair better now?”

”Well.. yeah,” she says, stating the obvious.

”Since when are you such a sassy pants?” he teases her, tickling her sides.

She giggles and squirms away. ”I’m not!!”

She scrolls again and comes across a thirst trap of him with the song "Pipes" by Christina Aguilera.

He snatches his phone back as fast as he can and turns it off.

”Ummm.. I think it's.. nap time,” he tries to ignore what just happened and not look all flustered. ”Mommy told me about that song, and I told her you were really good.”

”You think so, darling?”

”Yup,” emphasizing the “p.”

“Well, I’m actually writing a song about you.”

”I know..”

”How’d you know that?”

”Because I’m in the next room.”

”Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” he laughs and apologizes for that.

Lewis takes his baby to the other room where the sofa was turned into a bed, where she can take her afternoon nap.

“I’m not sleepy,” she says sleepily while she rubs her eyes and yawns widely.

“Just lay down, baby. How about I sing to you?” he says.

“Okay, daddy,” she lays down and cuddles with her blanky.

After he got her to sleep, he gets to the table and sits at the desk with the computer next to the sofa bed. He was going to send you a message that your baby is finally sleeping. He forgot that he didn't close the TikTok app, and as he opens the phone, the thirst trap was playing, and he watches it.

He didn’t realize he was smiling while watching it and was on the phone for a couple of minutes. You, however, called him and ended his trance.

“Hey, beautiful. What's up?”

”Just wanted to know how you guys are doing. I hope she isn't much of a ruckus there...”He looks at his cute baby sleeping soundly.

”No, No. She’s been really good. She's sleeping right now. Actually, she’s been sleeping for...” he checks the time and realizes he’s been on TikTok for at least 30 minutes. ”Lewis?”

”She’s been asleep for 30 minutes now. Wow.”

”That’s good to know. I’ll see you guys later then. Love you!”

”Love you too, babe.”

He then ends the call and contemplates the situation. There's no way he just watched 30 minutes worth of TikTok edits of himself.

Damn.

[kimikiui]

Why You Should Vote for Hakupo

Hello. Good evening, morning, afternoon, brunch, sleepytime whatever time it is for you right now. I am here to sell my little autism creature to you. This is going to be a fairly long post so, just sit tight.

The second round of polls will not be out for a couple of hours. I wanted to reblog the post with this, BUT- I have class at 3 when the polls are released. Plus, gotta get those non Hakupo believers before they vote for anyone else, amirite?

Also the stickers used between catagories are the official line stickers by Pikomaru ➜ https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/3951590/en

Reminder; It's only Shinji sweep until its Hakupo sweep.

No, I'm not putting a section breaker because even if you don't read it, I want you to see the sheer size of this... It's an essay at this point. Let's get started shall we?

What is a Hakupo?

Hakupo Tsukishiro is a energetic and powerful masculine voicebank for Utau (and amadeusy but we dont talk abt brunnnoooo). He was released all the way back in 2010 and has had many important milestones in his 13 years of distribution. Four compilation albums, 7 voicebanks, 2,500+ fanarts (that i all have), and uses by really awesome people *points to the crowd*. That's all of you guys out there. <3

Hakupo as a character is inspired by moe, thanks Clarice. Like most moe characters, he's a bit air headed and happy go lucky person. His positive attitude is sometimes brought into original songs he's featured in, which just makes me smile- girlbosses love a good pick me up song.

Also he has a stupid little coat and pants. This is all you need to know to vote for Hakupo, but I will continue forward incase you are still on the fence.

Cool Hakupo Facts

He almost has the same exact suggested range as Miku (C3 to E5)... His is actually larger... he goes higher (C3 to G5).

The "Do Re Mi FâåÁaæ↓" incident of Christmas 2020, contact me I will elaborate further.

There is a little bit of an evil twin thing going on. Yeah. This is a win.

His genderbend design Kohaku is revealed when you turn down the brightness of his official reference sheet (he pulled a scott cawthon guys).

He hates to be called cute and have his head patted... which is cute.

Despite looks- His description says he has curly hair come on guys- LITTLE FLUFF.

By looking at his official Twitter bot, there's a few extra things we can learn about him. He is very stupid, very impatient, has a horrible sleep schedule, bad at multitasking, and can't stand still (I can elaborate more on these if asked).

I wrote a 43 page Utau cartoon pilot script with Hakupo as the main character. Shameless plug.

I also wrote my college admissions essay about Hakupo. Thanks for getting me into college Bobo!

Sick Bobo Uses

Get boboed.

What does Bobo mean to me?

I found Hakupo 7 years ago now, sitting in the middle of an Utau melody. I told myself I would just turn off my tablet and listen to the music. Yeah that worked- guess who was next after the screen turned off. BOBO! I needed to see the little creature creating this melody. I turned on the screen, and was not disappointed. Fancy twink in a oversized tailcoat with weird pants. I remember rambling to my mom later about how cool he was, why he was so unique, and why this one specifically caught my attention.

He's been my special interest since then, everyone around me knows Hakupo wheather they like it or not. He's about 80% of everything I draw, 50% of what I talk about, and 100% of my little creature I snuggle up with every night.

Literally.

I have a Hakupo bodypillow. Can't sleep without him.

Anyways, he's helped me find a lot of my best friends *coughcoughmeatcoughrevcough*, never fails to make me happy, and helped everyone around me realize I'm extremely autistic. The least I can do is write an ungodly long propaganda post while drinking my coffee at 9 am.

Stan Bobo Oobieero.

Hakupo Memes for Propaganda

GO VOTE FOR HAKUPO ON @utaupoll AT 3 PM EST

Thanks, have a nice day.

[justkeepwalkingnothinghere]

The Owl House: A show that has changed my life in a way nothing else has.

It’s been over a week since the finale aired. Over a week since we’ve had to say goodbye to a show that has more than likely changed animation. Saying goodbye and coming to terms with it has been painful, but I’ve been doing fairly well since the 8th, since the most emotional night of my life in recent memory. The finale has really made me reflect on these last 6 months. The last 6 months since I had watched the first episode, and changed the course of not just my life, but my brain chemistry as well. I have at last found a way to put my thoughts and love for this show into words, and have realized just what this incredible series means to me and what it has done for so, so many people. It makes me feel a certain happiness nothing has ever managed to give me, or at least nothing in a very long time, and I can’t wait to tell you all.

This is the story of my discovery and journey through a series like no other, and just how my life has changed because of it.

The Owl House. I still remember that rainy afternoon in mid-September when I watched my first video about it. I had heard about it before, but hadn’t really been too interested in it. Hard to believe, looking back. But on this fateful afternoon, my YouTube recommended would show me an out of context video, introduce me to a magical adventure, and be my first step on a path that would alter the next 6 months of my life and counting. Not the first time this has happened, and certainly not the last. First one video, then two, then a few animatics and Lumity compilations, and maybe one or two videos of Luz being the biggest bi disaster ever. All of them being from season 1, of course. No spoilers for me, thank you, YT.  The seeds of my obsession and hyperfixation were planted that day and already began to grow.

A few days go by, I watch the first episode and start dying from laughter from the first 30 seconds, and when I went in only for Lumity, I quickly knew I was going to experience so much more than that. A week later, I finally put my foot down and made my mom and I watch the first 6 episodes one day after school, and we never watched a single new episode without each other. We spend time with season 1, already on our way through a magical realm full of possibilities, we blow through season 2 with unbridled amazement, we cautiously watch Thanks to Them, the newest episode at the time, knowing it was the beginning of the end. We had already been through so much, and we were about to see much more.

I hop onto the fandom, excited to interact with fellow fans who are just as dedicated to this show than I am, excite to see all the fanart and the fics, the theories and the memes, the comedic mayhem that is fueled by a burning passion and love for a series, for a wide cast of characters, for a world so so special to most. I spend time on the subreddit, I join Tumblr and make some pals, and my love for The Owl House grows and grows and grows, bigger and bigger and bigger without restraint. I find my favorite characters, my favorite ships, my favorite episodes. Raine rises through my list of characters and lands their spot as favorite and the one I go to for comfort, right alongside Luz. Raeda and Lumity tie for the spot of my OTP, I slowly start shipping Gustholomule, I start writing my first TOH fic about Raeda, I found my people. People who are just as crazy for this fictional world and its cast of goofballs and weirdoes.

People that I can relate to, in a fandom that, for me, is unbelievably warm and welcoming, a million times better than nearly every other fandom I’m in. My love keeps burning brighter and brighter, I manage to connect with a few folks irl and find a Discord server full of wonderful people, all through this series. Never have I been this attached to anything before, never have I experienced something incredible like this. Usually, the shows I watch either ended years ago, still have years left in their lifespan, or I’m never that emotionally attached to hold onto it for long, or have any sort of reaction to it ending outside of “Oh well. Guess that’s it. Sad to see it go”, only to be fully recovered a couple of days later.

But not with Owl House. With TOH, it’s so, so much different, almost as if it’s a whole different species. I’ve latched onto it for months, not intending to let go for a long, long time, I spend hours and hours on Tumblr, the subreddit, and Discord every day talking about this show and info dumping to friends. The Owl House captures a happiness that not even Friends or SpongeBob can achieve, both being shows that have been special to me and always will be. Friends for just being a great show and playing a special part in my relationship with my mom, and SpongeBob for being such a major part of my childhood, a part that holds a large amount of nostalgia. That’s not to say that Friends and SpongeBob don’t make me happy, they really do, without a doubt, but don’t stand a chance against Owl House.

I was never able to pinpoint why Owl House is as special and important to me as it is, until after the finale. After Watching and Dreaming, I realized, it’s because it makes me feel seen. I relate to Luz more than any other fictional character in existence. I’m weird and nerdy on a daily basis, bisexual, neurodivergent, and have never felt like I fit in. I’ve always felt out of place in this world, even in places that are basically made for you to be like this, even in spots where my friends and I can hang out and be weird together. I’ve always seen her as a cartoon version of me, I see myself in her most of the time, and it’s why I cling to her a lot. Same thing goes for Raine, though it’s not as much, but still important, as a person with a crapton of social anxiety and a passion for music and the arts.

I feel seen through all of these characters, whether I see myself in them, or the situations they face and the emotions they feel. It’s incredible, really. And it’s not just me, I’ve seen this in practically the entire fandom. This world, the Demon Realm, makes all of us feel seen, and it’s amazing that a show is able to do that. That a show is able to make us feel in such a way that makes us come together to find and bond with each other. And then I realized something else. Everything about this series makes me unbelievably happy for one reason. It makes me happy and warm inside, like a place I know. Like a place that lets me be who I am around my family, no questions asked. This fandom and everyone in it makes me feel comfort.

It feels like home. Like I belong. It feels like a warm hug, like a kiss to the forehead, like a hot meal on a rainy day, like a nice bath or shower, or the smell of freshly washed bed sheets, like the warmth of clothes fresh out of the dryer, like cuddles after long day, like a nice piece of chocolate, like warm cookies from the oven, like a cup of coffee in the morning, like every single comfort you can think of. The music embodies this perfectly, the end credits more specifically. While the opening more or less feels like “Let the adventures begin!”, the end credits feels like coming home to family and friends, like a hug from the entire cast, like 2 simple words that, although simple, mean a lot to not just me, but many others: “Welcome home”.

In short, The Owl House is a legendary show that has changed history in many aspects, a show that has made millions of people feel seen and find who they are, made many feel like they belong, and has filled millions with a feeling of comfort. A feeling of comfort so strong, it’s the first thing plenty of us reach for when we need something to lean on, or a shoulder to cry on. When we just need a pick me up after a hard day, or when we just need a smile on our faces. It’s a series, a cast of wonderful characters, a magical, fictional world, and a massive fandom that welcomes us with open arms, and makes us happy like not much else can.

And if that isn’t an achievement to be proud of, then I don’t know what is.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

We're coming up to the two-year anniversary of American comedian Trevor Moore's death, which is about a week before the two-year anniversary of Sean Lock's death. The latter of which made me more sad than any celebrity death ever has, because 1) look, I know we're not supposed to be all parasocial or whatever and those people on TV are not our friends, but I had relatively recently finished every episode of 8 Out of 10 Cats and Catsdown, which I think is over 400 in total, and you can't do that without feeling like you know those people a bit, also I watched his stand-up and Fifteen Stories High, so I could better enjoy the silly panel show stuff while knowing he was better than that, just like I knew Jon Richardson was better than that, and just like I knew Jimmy Carr wasn't, and 2) a friend of mine had died not all that long before then, I was still grieving for him and some of the sadness about Sean Lock's death may have gotten mixed in with grief for someone I did actually know.

Anyway. Thinking about that tonight. Trevor Moore's death didn't me quite as hard as Sean Lock's, but it was still fucking tragic, way too young. And he was very good. My brother first introduced me to Whitest Kids U'Know (Trevor Moore's sketch group) quite a few years ago, and it's one of the few things he and I agreed upon. My brother and I have very different taste in comedy, so I didn't expect to love this thing that he described as pretty much his favourite comedy at the time, but he was right. It was so funny that I watched every episode of the Whitest Kids U'Know TV show, and got Trevor Moore's High in Church album. I still have Whitest Kids U'Know sketches on my list of things I occasionally spend an afternoon re-watching (along with SMBC sketches, Chris Flemming videos, Tim Minchin songs, used to have Mitchell and Webb sketches on there but that's tougher with Robert Webb being a dick).

Sean Lock isn't quite as easy to clip as Trevor Moore (not without going through all the clickbait compilations on Channel 4's YouTube account), but there's always:

Surrealism on the letters and numbers show:

This one made me laugh far harder than it should have, really:

And I really like this Stewart Lee story about him:

In about 2005 I was trying to escape Avalon management, a solid career move of which S Lock was an early pioneer ("You're breaking these kids' hearts", I remember him saying to the company's promoters in Edinburgh in '95 or so as they ran another hapless 20-something hopeful into insurmountable debt). I was in an Indian restaurant in Nottingham with S Lock and D Kitson and I was trying to persuade D Kitson to manage me as his 'client', as I wanted to be able to reach the small but discerning audiences he did, and without doing any television or publicity. S Lock said we were a pair of fucking idiots. I don't know why he was so annoyed, but wonder if he took my attempt to eschew popular mechanisms as a personal criticism.

I feel like it sums everyone in that story up perfectly. Right alongside the Russell Howard story from Edinburgh 2004-ish, when he asked Sean Lock why he wasn't doing a long run there with his stand-up show, and Sean replied that he doesn't really like his job that much, he's just trying to get through it (that story came from the 2008 radio episode where they got on the subject by discussing who they'd most like to get to take to work with them, and Jon Richardson said he'd love to take the comedian Sean Lock... both heartwarming and heartbreaking when you think that he did, in fact, get to take Sean Lock to work with him him many times before he died, and contrary to what he told Russell in 2004 once, Sean probably enjoyed up to seven minutes of it). And the Lee Mack story about how he initially bonded with Sean Lock due to a shared distrust of the comedy industry and everyone in it.

There was always this sense that the cynicism in Sean Lock's act was real, and that's why he spent so much of his career on fluff like panel shows instead of the deeper cynical stuff like 15 Storeys High, he knew everything was bullshit so he was just trying to make enough so he didn't have to do more bullshit than necessary. All of Stewart Lee's cynicism but none of his pretension. 8 Out of 10 Cats (the non-Countdown version) has to be worst show that I've ever spent more than 100 hours watching, but it did make me get attached to the regulars who overcame the weakness of the format, and frequently of the other guests, and made it better than that. The Sean Lock/Jon Richardson dynamic is some of the best chemistry I've ever seen on TV. You'd think it wouldn't work - you'd think it wouldn't be as good as the Richardson/Howard thing of someone made of sunshine to balance out the pessimistic one. But nope, turns out two grumpy people go great together if they're Sean and Jon. Channel 4 struck gold with that.

[youshi56]

Afternoon:

I thought I would share this analogy “What’s in your cup?” As life presents opportunities to experience what is in our cup as opportunity to invite Jesus into areas of pain, sorrow, areas in need of healing, also as opportunity to be aware of those things that lay dormant until time for healing. And opportunities in praying for others as we experience what is in their cup.

Understanding healing, wholeness, transformation as a process in which as healing takes place in the lives of all Gods’ people we are more effectively able to offer the same love, forgiveness and mercy given us each day. I also enclosed a simple song Thank you God for today as well as Litany for Parents and as Father’s Day is coming up I share it as well.

Yesterday you can’t alter, but your reaction to yesterday you can. The past you cannot change, but your response to your past you can. Max Lucado

I LOVE THIS ANALOGY:

You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you or shakes your arm, making you spill your coffee everywhere.

Why did you spill the coffee?

“Because someone bumped into me!!!"

Wrong answer.

You spilled the coffee because there was coffee in your cup.

Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea.

Whatever is inside the cup is what will spill out.

Therefore, when life comes along and shakes you (which WILL happen), whatever is inside you will come out. It's easy to fake it, until you get rattled.

So we have to ask ourselves... “what's in my cup?"

When life gets tough, what spills over?

Joy, gratitude, peace and humility?

Anger, bitterness, victim mentality and quitting-tendencies?

Life provides the cup, YOU choose how to fill it.

Today let's work towards filling our cups with gratitude, forgiveness, joy, words of affirmation, resilience, positivity; and kindness, gentleness and love for others. 🤗

Mary Oliver, in her poem "Praying," writes:

It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together ...

In these difficult days, my prayer is more weeds in a vacant lot than the blue iris. I go on long walks every day to calm the disparate thoughts running around my mind. I'm not surprised I'm more anxious, but I'm often surprised at my inability to say anything at all in these hard times.

But as Oliver writes, "prayer isn't a contest, it's a doorway." And, a little over a month ago in a desperate search for a doorway that would lead to solace from the daily meltdowns, arguments, and hard days with my son, I put a call out to my Facebook friends.

I decided that if I couldn't find the words to pray, maybe others could and I could put them together into something we could all use. I wanted to compile a "Litany for Parents," so I asked my friends to share their prayers with me. Then I enlisted a priest friend of mine, Fr. Anthony Cecil, to help me and my wife, Gillian, compile them into a prayer.

With Father's Day on Sunday, I thought this prayer could be a source of solace in these troubled days.

We paid attention then patched a few words together, as Oliver said to do. And in these days, I wonder if that's something we all must do for ourselves and for our world.

Prayer isn't all we should do, of course. As one who lives deeply in the Benedictine tradition of prayer and work — there is work to be done as well. The work of creating a more just world. The work of creating a more interconnected and equitable society.

But as Father's Day nears, I'm also reminded of the work that must be done in our homes. The work of teaching our children about their shared humanity. The work of loving them the way they should love others. The work of serving them the way they should serve others.

In these hard times, I pray your prayer, even if it’s simply patched together, will be a place to find much-needed comfort and encouragement. I also pray that what you hear will move you to work for justice and for peace in our homes and in our world.

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

That I may always be thankful for the gift of my parenthood, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may enjoy the little moments of each day, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may always be respectful, patient and kind, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may not speak or act in anger when I am distressed and tired, but listen to my child, and understand their emotions, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may be encouraging and uplifting while knowing when to set proper boundaries, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may readily forgive, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may be attentive to my child, and not to the distractions that surround me, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may have strength and courage to treat each day as a fresh start, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I replace my fears with hope, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may play more and worry less, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to see you in others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may see you in my child, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to serve you through serving others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to serve you through my service to them, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to love you through loving others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to love you through my love of them, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That you will watch over and protect my child, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will give me wisdom when I need it, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me be just as you are just, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me be merciful as you are merciful, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me to love, for you yourself are Love, Jesus, I trust in you.

Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus and Our Mother, pray for us.

St. Joseph, earthly Father of Jesus and patron of fathers, pray for us.

Sts. Joachim and Anne, parents of Mary, patrons of grandparents, pray for us.

Sts. Zechariah and Elizabeth, parents of St. John the Baptist, pray for us.

St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine, pray for us.

St. Monica, mother of St. Augustine, patroness of mothers, pray for us.

St. Margaret of Cortona, patroness of single parents, pray for us.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, widowed and cared for her children alone, pray for us.

St. Gianna Molla, who gave her life so that her child could live, pray for us.

Sts. Louis and Zélie Martin, parents of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, pray for us.

Let us Pray:

O God, who have been pleased to allow me to share in your creative power through parenthood, graciously grant that our home may be a temple of your love, and that, by imitating the example of virtue and charity shown to us in the Holy Family, we, like them, may glorify you in all that we do. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Mary Oliver, in her poem "Praying," writes:

It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together ...

In these difficult days, my prayer is more weeds in a vacant lot than the blue iris. I go on long walks every day to calm the disparate thoughts running around my mind. I'm not surprised I'm more anxious, but I'm often surprised at my inability to say anything at all in these hard times.

But as Oliver writes, "prayer isn't a contest, it's a doorway." And, a little over a month ago in a desperate search for a doorway that would lead to solace from the daily meltdowns, arguments, and hard days with my son, I put a call out to my Facebook friends.

I decided that if I couldn't find the words to pray, maybe others could and I could put them together into something we could all use. I wanted to compile a "Litany for Parents," so I asked my friends to share their prayers with me. Then I enlisted a priest friend of mine, Fr. Anthony Cecil, to help me and my wife, Gillian, compile them into a prayer.

With Father's Day on Sunday, I thought this prayer could be a source of solace in these troubled days.

We paid attention then patched a few words together, as Oliver said to do. And in these days, I wonder if that's something we all must do for ourselves and for our world.

Prayer isn't all we should do, of course. As one who lives deeply in the Benedictine tradition of prayer and work — there is work to be done as well. The work of creating a more just world. The work of creating a more interconnected and equitable society.

But as Father's Day nears, I'm also reminded of the work that must be done in our homes. The work of teaching our children about their shared humanity. The work of loving them the way they should love others. The work of serving them the way they should serve others.

In these hard times, I pray your prayer, even if it’s simply patched together, will be a place to find much-needed comfort and encouragement. I also pray that what you hear will move you to work for justice and for peace in our homes and in our world.

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

That I may always be thankful for the gift of my parenthood, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may enjoy the little moments of each day, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may always be respectful, patient and kind, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may not speak or act in anger when I am distressed and tired, but listen to my child, and understand their emotions, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may be encouraging and uplifting while knowing when to set proper boundaries, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may readily forgive, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may be attentive to my child, and not to the distractions that surround me, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may have strength and courage to treat each day as a fresh start, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I replace my fears with hope, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may play more and worry less, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to see you in others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may see you in my child, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to serve you through serving others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to serve you through my service to them, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to love you through loving others, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That I may teach my child to love you through my love of them, Jesus, grant me this grace.

That you will watch over and protect my child, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will give me wisdom when I need it, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me be just as you are just, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me be merciful as you are merciful, Jesus, I trust in you.

That you will help me to love, for you yourself are Love, Jesus, I trust in you.

Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus and Our Mother, pray for us.

St. Joseph, earthly Father of Jesus and patron of fathers, pray for us.

Sts. Joachim and Anne, parents of Mary, patrons of grandparents, pray for us.

Sts. Zechariah and Elizabeth, parents of St. John the Baptist, pray for us.

St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine, pray for us.

St. Monica, mother of St. Augustine, patroness of mothers, pray for us.

St. Margaret of Cortona, patroness of single parents, pray for us.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, widowed and cared for her children alone, pray for us.

St. Gianna Molla, who gave her life so that her child could live, pray for us.

Sts. Louis and Zélie Martin, parents of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, pray for us.

Let us Pray:

O God, who have been pleased to allow me to share in your creative power through parenthood, graciously grant that our home may be a temple of your love, and that, by imitating the example of virtue and charity shown to us in the Holy Family, we, like them, may glorify you in all that we do. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

[ms-hells-bells]

20 years later, someone wrote a poignant letter to another guyana paper, in regards to how poorly the girls were treated, with so little celebration and news in regards to their survival, and even worse, all the support they were promised after their rescue, like over $50,000 to the eldest when she turned 18, and helping her into nursing school, never materialised.

Dear Editor,

Really time does fly, I couldn’t believe that it’s almost 20 years since those two sisters were lost in our dense jungle. I’m sure that I speak for many when I say it was completely blotted out from my mind until Stabroek News’ Gaulbert Sutherland took us back in time: “Girl lost in jungle 19 years ago recalls ordeal” S.N. Oct 6th, 2014.

Reading the story about Bertina and Bernadette Domingo was definitely not a “Cinderella” kind fairy-tale stuff, and if there is anyone who reads it and thinks so I beg of you to share your views perhaps it may help me to see it from a different and positive perspective.

I can remember so well their humility and respect which they exhibited upon reaching some miners at a camp-site after such an ordeal even as young as they were then, the first set of words they uttered were “good afternoon”, such impassive response befitting philosophers. Few grown adults under such condition would have been able to maintain their composure.

But after reading what Gaulbert Sutherland reported, the permutations of thoughts that flooded my mind left me in quandary: Just why should I be worried, bemoaning over the affairs of others? This is the way of Society, these things will go on and on forever, just who do you think you are? Who is listening?

Who cares? Why keep writing words that no one hears? Then for a moment a thought – why allow yourself to become like them, what good does it bring?

And by the way I think these kind of stories should be compiled into a book, we have so many poignant, heart-rending human interest stories that would sure make wonderful readings – they need chronicling.

But definitely there are some worrying things that were mentioned: the promise made to the sisters by the then late President, $65,500 they were to uplift upon attaining the age of 18 years; Bertina said she lost all of her documents when she took ill – bank slip, medal awarded, plaque etc.

She had wanted to become a nurse, was she assisted in any way in realising her life’s ambition? She never got a chance to write exams, form two was the highest class then in that community – what now!?

Also mentioned was the difficulty getting items to those remote areas; that her 11-year-old daughter would soon be sent to Secondary school at Annai and would be boarding there, the money promised to her and sister would certainly be welcome. I will play the positive card here and assume that Bernadette the younger sister is doing well in Brazil, so let that be.

Editor, in light of all the above it behoves one to ask; just where was/are the representative of the community? Government officials, Toshaos and other personnel?

For a very long time I was under the impression that special attention was being paid to those two sisters, they were our young heroines. I remember two American pilots who were lost somewhere in the desert for two weeks, their plane was shot down/crashed and they were decorated and honoured as heroes. They made headlines all over magazines, tabloids etc. And they were grown men, soldiers with sturdy constitutions trained in survival skills as compared with our two young women-virtually babies – 9 and 13 years old and had to battle with a formidable and treacherous jungle infested with wild ferocious beasts and dangerous reptiles empty handed – except for a cutlass – starving and being stalked by a jaguar which they endured and survived for about six weeks! You know it’s so disheartening, one hears and reads so much about the big brouhaha being made, the rapid and radical positive changes being made in these remote far-reaching hinterland regions, yet now reading this story after twenty years, it seems such an illusion, sad indeed.

Bertina and Bernadette, though now 32 and 28 years old respectively, together have 11 children six and five; and while that is nothing unusual, upon reflection and examining the present I don’t think we would want to classify the outcome of events, since their ordeal as a form of achievement where we can be proud. With six children to take care of, Bertina does farming and fishing in the jungle surrounding her remote village Apoteri, while her eldest son who is 15 years old works in the gold field.

In the inner recesses of our minds our conscience speaks.

Yet I sensed that she does exhibit heroine qualities, for though she has not been able to become a nurse, she does possess the strength, resilience and determination nursing six children – a nurse in her own right, as mothers are in spite of broken promises, disappointments and lost medals. But she deserves more than a medal at this stage. I wish the sister the grace and fullness of life and I hope that somehow she would be able to see this letter.

in reading more about the colombian children that survived the plane crash and jungle, i stumbled upon this story. there is almost no english news about it, largely only an AP article from 1996 about it, there's not even a wikipedia page, but i found a translated page of a guyana newspaper with the story.

THE gripping, inspiring survival experience of two young girls lost in Guyana’s jungles is the stuff epic films are made of.

Bertina and Bernadette Domingo of the Wapishiana tribe, Apoteri Village in the Rupununi began travelling from 7th April 1995 with their uncle up the Essequibo River; an uncle who had been instructed by the father of the girls to take them direct to the family farm.

Instead he diverted in the opposite direction with them, paddling for ninety-five miles in a canoe, then forcing them to trek through the jungle, threatening to kill the terrified girls when they cried.

At Pakani Falls they watched in fear as their uncle died of malaria – an uncle whose motives for his actions are shrouded in secret, lost forever in the hinterland landscape that had been the undoing of men from a time even preceding the Spanish Conquistadors.

If that uncle meant harm to his innocent, trusting nieces, as his actions indicated he did, because terrible pictures come to mind of child and female trafficking, he paid a terrible price for his heinous betrayal of his brother and nieces.

But that was no real consolation to the two young girls, who were left alone and defenceless to fend for themselves in the dense, dark rainforest, with merely a cutlass, a hammock, and their traditional tribal skills to keep them alive.

They were forced to undertake a journey that would test all their survival skills, their resilience, their character, and their survival instincts if they were to live.

The older Bertina, at thirteen, would have to become the leader, transmitting her unshakeable faith that they would survive their ordeal to her frightened nine-yr-old sister. In turn, the response of the younger girl, and the faith she reposed in her older sibling, would bolster Bertina’s spirit and inspire and encourage her to greater feats of endurance.

Before their journey ended they would have traversed over 200 miles of virgin rainforest, at the mercy of the elements, with all the inherent dangers of the deep rainforests – from the remote reaches of Essequibo to approximately 190 miles up the Berbice River – a mile away from the Lindo tributary.

They ate what they could, but their knowledge of the land and basic survival skills, inculcated from birth by the traditions of their aboriginal tribe, came to their rescue, resulting in their finding the “haiwa” wood to produce the most crucial requirement for their protection at night – light.

The girls staved off hunger by eating berries, peppers and fish caught by the traditional method. They remembered their tribe’s ancient skill of lighting an area of water with the “haiwa” wood to entice fish to the surface, then spearing them with a spear – in their instance with a cutlass.

The girls also had a miraculous escape from the claws and jaws of a jaguar and were forced to keep their terror at bay when they encountered the large snakes, crocodiles, and other large and dangerous denizens that proliferate in Guyana’s rainforests.

At one point they thought that they were about to be rescued. Hearing the sound of an engine their hopes soared as they walked quickly toward the sound and what they hoped would have been the end of their ordeal.

But as fast as they walked it was not enough and the frightening sounds of the rainforest enclosed them once again.

Rescue seemed near at hand once more when they stumbled upon a porknocker’s camp, but the camp had long been abandoned and was empty of any human presence. At nights they slung their hammock high in the trees to protect themselves from the many ever-existent perils threatening their survival every minute, with every step they took, and even in their sleep.

Many nights Bertina stayed awake for hours watching protectively as the exhausted Bernadetta slept the sleep of the innocent.

Meanwhile the girls’ parents were frantically looking for them and search parties were organized. The parents, accompanied by members of one search party went as far as Kurupukari – 60 miles from the Potaro River, but had to give up, not knowing what direction to take in the vast, dense rainforest.

Frantic messages were sent to relatives living in Georgetown in attempts to locate the uncle and girls, but to no avail.

Finally, at 5.50 p.m. on the third day of May, 31 days after they had left home, covered with mosquito bites and weak with hunger, Bertina and Bernadetta stumbled into a porknocker’s camp.

The astonished miners fed the girls and then took them into the city, where officialdom took over, affording them medical and other care.

Their rescuer, a miner named Gonsalves, said that the area in which they were found was so remote that hardly anyone ventured there.

The indomitable will to survive, their stoic resilience in the face of betrayal and overwhelming dangers, and the epic journey of these two fragile little ones is the stuff of which legends are made.

This was triumph of the human spirit against all odds. These two little girls were imaginative, resourceful, determined, tenacious, and, above all, courageous beyond the parameters of normal human endurance of body and mind.

To honour their resilience and courage in the face of danger and adversity, the Domingo sisters were deservedly conferred with a special award for courage during the 1996 investiture ceremony by then Executive President of Guyana, Dr. Cheddi Jagan.

They had also been awarded with a plaque saluting their bravery by the South Ruimveldt Policing Group.

Bertina and Bernadetta Domingo represent the best of the indigenous peoples of this land.

[kjmsupremacist]

Felix sweet boy baby angel but Christopher Bang is literally Satan? Idk if you saw but Hyunjin ratted him out on live and said the lyrics for Red Light were toned down. I don’t want to know. I don’t. He was already talking about edging and I don’t want to know. He can keep his Scorpio Venus and his Sag Mars away from me and everyone I love. I would give anything to know his rising if sign. It’s giving Earth but there’s so much air in his chart it’s hard to be sure. 🤖

i am so happy you sent me this ask because i have been looking for an excuse to talk about red lights. I sent leon and margot a seven minute long voice message when i was doing my research for my red lights-inspired fic like that's where i'm at.

First, yes, I saw Hyunjin's comments! that's what chris gets for trying to say hyunjin wrote all the lyrics in the first place. nice try, chris. also, his scorpio venus is SEXY. i won't be taking criticism on this opinion.

Now. Please see under the cut if you want to watch me dissect Red Lights -- both the lyrics and the MV.

so, credit where credit's due--I skimmed this and this reddit posts while I was doing my research.

now. we all know that on the surface, this song is about sex (and specifically bondage and edging—that much is clear). but, ah, how's the saying go? "everything is about sex except for sex, which is about power"? sure.

yeah, it's meant to be sexy. they did that for us and im still not sure if I want to kill them for it or thank them with my life. BUT, as they mentioned in the howl in harmony video, it's primarily a song about obsession.

The first reddit post does a great (albeit kind of aggressive) breakdown of the lyrics, where it becomes really clear that they're talking about the relationship they have with their work and the relationship they have with fans. In essence, the song is about how they want to give their lives and all their time to making more content for fans so that they will continue to receive love from us. The red lights are actually the recording light on a camera (hence the line “set the mic up”).

And so a relationship like the one depicted here is dark and intense, and yes—passionate and driven by love—but ultimately, it consumes itself in the vortex of its own desire, and then peters out into a sort of blank monotony—learned through repetition, a habitual reflex instead of a true reaction.

Then, the second reddit post goes on a deep dive of some of the symbolism seen in the MV—specifically, the use of kink. This is where it gets really fun.

We mostly see Hyunjin in shibari-style bondage. OP posits (and I agree) that he is meant to represent passion without discipline. The shibari ropes are tied messily (and so therefore dangerously) which is perfect for representing how often kink (and other obsessions) can devolve—you plunge in headfirst, but you are directionless except for the insistent tug in your gut that cries for more, more.

Chan, on the other hand, is seen primarily (esp in solo scenes) bound by heavy chains. He represents discipline with no passion. In the Howl in Harmony video, I believe he mentions that after a long day of practice, he'll still find himself in the recording studio, even though he's tired. He does what he has to on autopilot, because he knows he must, because it’s the only thing he feels he can do.

If Hyunjin is mania, then Chan is depression. The chains are GREAT symbolism because this dutiful march towards burnout and beyond is, as the lyrics suggest, stemming from a desire to keep receiving love (from fans)—that if you just work hard enough then no one will ever leave you. You wish to bind the person (or people) you love to you, but in the end the bonds only weigh you down.

So then the part where they’re tied together, back to back, at the end, shows when passion and discipline come into balance. And that’s creation for the love of creation while still maintaining a respect for yourself, the art, and your audience. (or idk. maybe they just thought we'd like to see them tied to one another. and they were right).

It's also fun because while we see Hyunjin and Chan both assume positions of domination and submission, it's clear Chan is meant to be the “dominant force” here (hence discipline). The reason we do see instances of Hyunjin in power (choking Chan, standing over him on the table) is because any somewhat healthy d/s relationship involves first the surrender of power. The dom is only perceived to be in power because the sub first relinquishes it them. So. You know.

I will say I'm not sure what to say about the edging theme (BNKSJDF) besides the obvious—almost giving you what you want, but not quite.

And finally, this is not part of either of those two reddit posts, but I was ENTHRALLED by the use of mirror and mirror-esque imagery throughout the MV and in the choreo. I love mirrors as a symbol so we're going to talk about that, too.

First and most obviously, it may be a bit on the nose. In art, mirrors and reflections are often used to show that there is a deeper meaning than what is clear on the surface. So this might have just been hyunchan going "hey! it's not just about sex!"

but I think there's more to it than that. Mirrors are often used as a vessel of truth—in some Chinese myths, for example, mirrors can repel demons, as they will show a demon’s true form. Or see the Little Mermaid—though Ursula managed to change her outward appearance, she was caught in her lie when another character (sebastian, i think?) saw her reflection in the mirror.

Additionally, one’s reflection used to be thought to contain one’s soul��which is why mirrors were covered in the home of person who had just passed, so they would not be trapped as a ghost in the world of the living.

For this reason, mirrors are often also considered dangerous. Think of Narcissus, for a start, who fell in love with his own reflection and sat at the water's edge, pining, until he fucking died. Or consider the following quote (which I love) from Fernando Pessoa:

“Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself. The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.”

We use mirrors to watch ourselves watching ourselves (and the Margaret Atwood who lives in our heads cries “male fantasies, male fantasies! You are you own voyeur!”). We perform for the mirror—often what we see in the mirror is not actually how we are seen by others! We think we may find truth there, when in reality it is a distortion. Ties itself up really nicely, I think.

In any case, this really goes well with the theme of obsession in the song—staring in the mirror asking, what do others see? What is wrong about me? What can I do better? The idea of looking in the mirror to seek what others see, both positive and negative, is common throughout. And I think their use of mirrored choreo (esp when it seems like one of them is the reflection!!), as well as mirror placement on the set of the mv, and ESPECIALLY the lovely bit at the end where they both stand staring carefully at their own reflections, all work to drive that theme home.

and i don't even know how to touch on all the color symbolism (when it changes between color and b&w?? the palette being overwhelmingly yellow and red and black???), or the lens filters (warping, blurring, etc), or the way they superimposed pieces of the video on top of other pieces, or the use of that one stark white background—without writing a fucking dissertation (and this is already a ridiculously long post) so i'll just stop here.

This is all to say, maybe what they meant was that the lyrics were a lot more aggressive about these themes and they were asked to tone them down to keep it neutral.

or maybe they're just sexy, sexy motherfuckers and their managers bonked them on the head and sent them to horny jail.

[sauntering-down]

twenty years ago, i wrote a Star Wars fic.

two years ago, i opened the document for the first time since junior high and liveblogged the reread for Mary.

tonight... you get to experience the experience. savor it. firefox crashed twice while i was compiling this post, so cursed is the tale...

someday, Mary, i will tell you about the cringiest thing i've ever written. it's completely ripped off of a Boba Fett novel released right after AotC, there are song lyrics repurposed as a poem, iirc there's a literal Plot Device that gets completely forgotten about until i realized i was at the end of the story… anyway, i just have to read it myself first, because i literally haven't opened that document in fifteen years. it's that bad. i printed it out and brought it to my grandparents' cabin upstate and made everyone in my family read it. i physically cannot let you read the entire thing, but when i finally get up the courage, i'll liveblog it for you

it's so bad, Mary. it's so bad. the ship in the story is literally the Slave I with (i think???) a different name. i distinctly remember looking up the actual type of ship in one of my brother's many Star Wars guides

it's FANTASTIC and just the vague memory is so awful i seriously haven't touched it since i was like, 13

i don't remember very much of the plot except the kid trying to get his ship back, because i'm pretty sure that's what happened in the Boba Fett novel lmao

there's supposed to be something about a mysterious crystal, but after like one chapter i forgot about it until remembering at the very end and just having this kid find it in a ship. like… imagine opening your glove compartment one afternoon and finding the fucking Hope Diamond in there. that's pretty much what happens

the last true island of cringe on my hard drive must be conquered

should've bought myself a neck brace in case i cringe so hard my head retracts into my torso

me: alright before i even open the document, i should tell you it's called 'Cast My Soul to the Sea'. IF i recall correctly, it's a bastardized lyric from a Loreena McKennitt song Mary: This is going to be AMAZING

i'm not sure i ever heard this song. i took the title and the """"poem"""" in the story from the titles of a totally different Star Wars story i found online. i didn't read it, btw, i just liked the title

okay. gonna open the document. if i never reply again it's because god smote me

thank god it's not written in Comic Sans

okay. okay. up until this instant i didn't remember the protagonist's name but thought it started with a J… turns out his name is Zachary McCoy. a very Star Wars name there.

anywho, it starts off with a line from this """""""""poem"""""""", and Zach's sister Evelyn asking if that's all he's written. he claims "seventh form" is difficult, whatever that is.

their father is apparently coming home soon. he is, OF COURSE, a bounty hunter.

we timeskip to Tuesday when Dad gets home… okay, this family consists of Zachary, his two little sisters Evelyn and Clarissa, mom Rachel, and dad… Breon. BREON. i mean, at least i was TRYING to make something a little more Star Warsy, but it stands out badly compared to the much more normal names. i should've gone big or gone home. why not Zaqureehy???

…i just realized this entire story is SEVEN PAGES LONG. what the actual fuck, 13-year-old Alex???? you useless asshole.

moving on… Zach notices his father seems sad, but doesn't worry about it much

Zach overhears his parents talking quietly and conveniently catches a few super relevant words! we get our first mention of the 'Caman's Crystal'

so Breon needs a hand because he has to track a bounty on Yavin 4, but he also has to get help from "the couriers on Dell", whatever that means. apparently he needs to do these things at the same time… so he asks his kid. how old is this kid? fuck if i know.

and there ends chapter one. it was about 400 words. i'm deeply ashamed of myself

me: chapter two… Zach sees a cool ship, goes "oh neat, whose is that?" and apparently it's HIS now. this kid is like, twelve. Mary: I mean…expensive flex, Breon, but okay

he notes it's almost like the Slave I, although HOW he knows that i have no fucking idea, except it's smaller. i'm calling it the Slave II now.

it's actually called the Starlight 7, but.. nah

Zach finds it a little strange at first but ofc he's an INSTANT EXPERT at piloting and gets the hang of it instantly

Breon apparently just vanished into the ether, because Zach's in hyperspace now. he reads a book to pass the time… which apparently has detailed descriptions of both Yavin 4 AND Kamino. can you tell i was not very familiar with anything Star Wars besides the movies?

oh wait, apparently Breon's still there? okay then

Zach tells himself not to worry because his father's flying and Breon is, of course, Jango Fett with the serial number filed off there's a clone joke there

…what follows is a total rip-off of the AotC scene where Obi-Wan chases Jango and Boba through the asteroids near Geonosis, complete with some rando Jedi following Breon and Zach. except they escape by shooting a wall with a torpedo and then hiding so it looks like they crashed into the wall Rando Jedi is clearly dumb as shit, because he falls for it. why is he there? idfk

i hate myself for making my parents read this. they must've been so disappointed. i bet that was the exact moment they realized why i was kicked out of honors classes after 7th grade.

chapter three! within the space of 57 words, they land on Yavin 4, spend the night in a hotel (do they even HAVE those on Y4????), Breon tells his son where to go, and then Zach takes off on his own.

i WANT to say Breon randomly gets killed at some point off-screen, but i honestly don't remember. too bad i can't keep it that way submitting to the mortifying ordeal of knowing myself here

mmkay so he heads to Dell, which has 11 moons and apparently extremely strong gravity that pulls the ship in, though there's no actual mention of the effects this would have on a human hanging out there or anything. Zach can't find a landing pad and instead lands the ship in a small field near a city.

Zach says 'people' and means 'humans'. kid's fucking xenophobic.

i'm now really glad this is short because it's excruciating.

he inexplicably gets stopped by two bounty hunters who are looking for a kid around his age LOL he namedrops his dad to scare them off

Zach then wanders around like "okay Breon McCoy is well known and i'm his son, so nobody can use me as bounty, unless i AM a bounty" and my brain just short-circuited a little

me: chapter four! he has no idea where these 'couriers' who are supposed to be awaiting him are, or even WHO they are Mary: nice going, Breon, you didn't give your kid any information me: Breon didn't do a great job prepping him for this, but that's what 57 words gets you, i guess

so he goes back to the Slave II and OH NOES IT'S GONE!!!!!!

a Dellian girl named Amandia is hanging around. that seems suspicious as fuck, but she tells Zach that a guy named Buz might've taken the ship and it's probably on Dell 2.

me: what the FUCK is going on in this paragraph Mary: I'M SO CONFUSED??????? me: who's Perrier???

like. okay. so i guess Breon told Zach to find the couriers so they could help him find the crystal… and maybe Perrier is the bounty he's trying to find…?

usually i can puzzle out my own writing, but this one is… really something

fuck it, moving on. 'couriers' are Dellians light enough to… fly from the surface of Dell to the moons without a ship?? this makes NO sense but i'm pretty sure it was ripped off that Boba Fett novel, so i'm sure there was a better explanation somewhere

at this point i'm just going to assume Breon's trying to bump off his son for insurance money or something and he's in cahoots with these guys. Amandia helped steal the ship, obviously.

okay, chapter five! Zach and Amandia are on a cliff, waiting for the gravity to shift. the explanation has something to do with the moons. idk.

so they step off the cliff and fall a bit and then just… start gliding through space, rising and falling with the gravity changes. again, 100% stolen from that novel. they eventually land on the moon (no idea how they breathed this entire time), but lol it's the wrong moon

yeah, Amandia's suspicious as fuck.

they do, however, make it to the correct moon. apparently "daylight never comes" there, so i'm going to assume it's tidally locked and they're just on the dark side. this inexplicably gives Zach an idea for his """"""""""""""""""""""""poem"""""""""""""""""""""

they walk for a while until they see another Dellian about Amandia's age, whatever that is. his name is… Noah. they need to use his speeder to get across the moon because Buz has his ship. how do you know that, Amandia… Zach isn't NEARLY suspicious enough for this line of work. she's so obviously working with this Buz dude, kiddo.

chapter six!

Zach. honey. she flies around on weird gravity tides. this girl doesn't give a FUCK about a super-fast speeder; she's trying to get you killed or sold into slavery or something.

so they take off in Noah's speeder, which is extremely fast. Zach's cool with this because he likes upgrading his own speeders, asks if this thing goes any faster, which ofc it does.

oh hey! we finally find out Zach lives on Naboo.

Noah's been to Kamino, apparently. i don't know how i missed the very clear fact that it's an extremely isolated planet and gets very very very few visitors

they see the Slave II! but suddenly it takes off and heads for another moon!!!!! SUSPENSO.

literally two pages left. i can't believe i packed so much into seven pages and yet there's absolutely no detail, action, exposition, character development, or even much in the way of PLOT here.

side note, i just remembered a part in my dream where R2-D2 had kidnapped a person and kept them buried in a shallow grave… but they were still alive and i saw him dig them up. their entire head had been skinned and they were like, weakly crying out for help. it was extremely creepy and fucked up. then C-3PO showed up and R2 quickly buried them again before 3PO noticed. so i guess i subconsciously think R2-D2 is some kind of sadistic serial killer or something? idk, man. let's go back to the story.

so Noah decides they can follow the Slave II in his own father's ship, hilariously called the 'Superfly'. he says he's eleven years old, too… so Amandia's just a kid also? maybe Buz is her dad and he's getting her started in the crime business early. wait wait no! i was wrong! it's ZACH who's eleven. Noah is thirteen and he's annoyed he can't have his own ship

they're so busy chatting they don't notice a "small fighter" approaching until it fires at them

and then there are like… five fighters? who fight each other? and one of them is Noah's brother… idk

anyway, they manage to land on Dell 8 after that, though the ship is slightly damaged from the hit they took

Mary: Is this entire 7 page story literally just jumping from moon to moon? me: PRETTY MUCH

they see Zach's ship but can't follow in their own, so Noah grabs a conveniently located speeder and they're off again!

chapter eight… they switch so Zach can drive… they catch up to the Slave II and Buz, whoever he is, gets out… they run past him onto the ship and he takes the speeder and leaves. that's. um. anticlimactic doesn't seem to cover it.

they hear something rattling around in the ship, but WHATEVER, Zach stops on the other moon and Noah leaves and then… well… you need to witness this for yourself.

i wasn't joking about the glove compartment thing. it's like the only thing from this story i really remembered lmfao also check OUT that amazing writing there.

Mary: Space glove compartments are definitely a thing, they have a whole thing with them in the Jedi Prince books, so you're just in a long line of wonderful ship glove compartment writers Mary: that being said, WHY WOULD HE PUT THE SUPER RARE AND VALUABLE CRYSTAL IN A GLOVE COMPARTMENT

chapter nine, Zach goes to a "government building" on Yavin 4 and hands over the crystal to some random official, who asks what he's doing here

look, i don't even know what this crystal is, what it does, why it's so valuable and everyone wants it… i just don't know.

me: Zach says he's looking for his father Mary: And here's where we find out…that his father is DEAD (I assume)

and then… AND THEN…

THE END. except for the """"""""""""""""""""""poem"""""""""""""""""" which is like five lines, doesn't rhyme, makes no sense, and hopefully got an F.

Mary: BRILLIANT ENDING, 5 STARS

what was the crystal for? why did Buz steal Zach's ship, and why did he give it up so easily? does Zach ever go home? does the rest of his family even know Breon died? BEATS ME MAN

it's amazing. it's so bad. half the cringe comes from the inescapable knowledge that i made my family members read this. thank god i don't remember how they reacted

i bet Breon faked his death maybe he gave Zach the ship in hopes his secret lover Buz would bump him off in the process of stealing it. then they'd take the crystal, pawn it, and go off to start a new life together. Buz's daughter Amandia helps out and comes to live with them. Noah never gets his own ship. the end.

[exovapor]

I'm OBSESSED with your writing. Can you try.. Maybe, Donnie being a filthy boy being an 'stalker-ish' of his long time crush? Be checks their FB for new posts, saves every picture of them he finds? He doesn't mean to be a creep, feels guilty, but just doesn't know how to ask for more than friendship?

Good afternoon Anon. Here is my short story in relation to your ask.

I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take this, so I had to do a bit of guessing on my part. I hope this something like you were wanting.

I will admit that this ask was a bit of a struggle for me, not knowing a clear direction to take it outcome made me a little unsure of my writing and guessing abilities LOL. However, I will admit to crying along with the characters in this story more than once.

Thanks again for the ask and the initial compliment. I hope to continue to earn your favor in future posts.

· Stalker [noun]: 1a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. 2a person who hunts game stealthily.

· Donnie stared at the definition on his one of his monitor screens while his various other screens were busy flashing receipts of files downloaded, text trail streams from your phone, notices of any social media post/update/like/heart/emoji, a GPS line grid of your routes today (overlayed over the routes you’d taken previously), and data search hits of anything and everything that pertained to you.

· At this point, the boy had literally every picture you had ever posted, anywhere, of yourself. In fact, he had all the pictures that other people posted of you in them. He had even gone through the effort of designing a face recognition program that picks you out of the background of total strangers’ pictures and, yeah, he had those in a file too.

· He has special file folders that compile things that you like, things you don’t like, things that make you happy, things that make you sad. He is your own personal Pinterest and you didn’t even know it… and maybe that is the part that keeps bothering him so much.

· He sits staring at that word and definition and chewing his bottom lip. True, he knows the word and the meaning, but he needed to LOOK at it, analyze it, mull it over in his guilt ridden brain.

· He just KNEW the word Stalker couldn’t apply to him.

· After all, he isn’t harassing or persecuting you, you don’t know! So, it isn’t necessarily ‘unwanted attention’. It is just…unknown attention.

· Stealthily, hmmmm, did that part apply to him? Well, He isn’t EXACTLY being stealthy.

· If you knew about technology like him, then you would probably see his programs running on your devices and be alerted to his activities. AND, if you shared his love and view of technology, then you would probably be more understanding of his activities and not consider them stealthy…just data mining. In fact, you might applaud him.

· ‘Ok, that was taking it a bit too far’, Donnie thinks to himself and he feels a band tighten and squeeze around his infatuated heart.

· He is almost certain that you would be shocked to learn of his extra curricular activities and how they revolve around every aspect of you.

· Regardless of how he tried to spin the truth and wiggle out of the definition of stalker, Donnie still felt guilty for invading your privacy. However, he honestly couldn’t help himself…at least not anymore.

· He has fought the urge, the nagging thoughts and the burning need, to know more about you for what seemed like an eternity.

· Listen to him, he is starting to sound dramatic like Mikey! What is his turning into? He is losing his rational edge!

· To be accurate, it hasn’t been an eternity. In fact, he has known you 1 year, 36 days, 14 hours, 11 minutes, and 23 seconds to be exact. However, you started occupying space in his mind 2 minutes into meeting you and your claim over his mind has grown exponentially over time.

· You were quiet and reserved during that first meeting, so there wasn’t much to go on. It started as a simple visual interest with a thought of ‘Oh. She’s pretty’.

· However, then you started talking and that changed everything.

· You opened up more and more each time you hung out with their little group, revealing layers and layers of interests and personality. You were fascinating…and that’s when his thoughts about you really started to snowball and spiral out of control.

· You went from being a simple pretty face to being a walking embodiment of everything he seriously ever dreamed of having in a mate.

· Early on, there were three sticking points that really made Donnie’s feelings problematic. 1. He was a nearly seven foot tall walking talking turtle and you weren’t. 2. You had a boyfriend that you were deeply in love with and adored. 3. Donnie was too insecure about #1 and how you felt about inter-species dating to let you know that you had started to OWN his heart.

· Now, thanks to his surveillance, there were only two sticking points….#1 and #3.

· He still remembers the feelings of that day, 44 days ago, when the blip of information popped up on this screen alerting him to the fact that your boyfriend was starting to stray.

· Donnie had severely conflicting feelings bombard him at once and it was overwhelming.

· The initial knee jerk reaction was elation, one of the problems blocking him from you may soon be null.

· However, the feeling of elation only lasted for a second or two before the intense anger and sadness set in. Donnie was honestly shocked at the depth of his anger, he didn’t even know he had that level of malice in him. Had he been in physical proximity to your boyfriend at that moment in time, Donnie isn’t sure that he wouldn’t have hurt your guy…or worse.

· How COULD this guy do this? WHY would he? He HAD YOU! What the heck was this guy thinking? Not only did he have you, but you thought the world of him. When you spoke about him you would smile so genuinely, your eyes would shine and gaze off into a bright imagined future. Donnie was always so jealous to watch it happen, he wondered what it would be like to be THAT GUY. And here the idiot was throwing it all away and meeting up with another girl!

· WHAT THE…(yes, this called for a curse) HELL…IS WRONG WITH HUMAN MEN?

· As the anger set root in his heart, the sadness engulfed Donnie like an all-consuming wave. He realized he was going to have to share this information with you, somehow, and that he was going to have to watch as it destroyed you.

· At first, Donnie had a plan to try and save you both from that fate. True, it would hurt him more to save your relationship, but he would rather be the one facing the pain and not you.

· He TRIED to circumvent the situation. He sent anonymous messages to your boyfriend stating that he knew about the infidelity and that he would tell you if needed. However, it didn’t seem like your boyfriend cared because he sent messages back stating Donnie could, basically, go fuck himself.

· Life had cruel sense of irony, thought Donnie, that is exactly what I do since this moron has the woman that I love.

· So, after trying for nearly two weeks to stop what was happening behind your back, Donnie had no choice but to let you in on the secret.

· Donnie couldn’t come right out and tell you that he caught your boyfriend cheating by hijacking your data streams and the data streams of those around you. So, Donnie intercepted some texts between your boyfriend and his mistress and he then sent you a text, under the guise of your boyfriend, telling you to meet him at a specified restaurant for a date.

· It had been a gut wrenching night for Donnie. He remembered watching it all play out on camera feeds from around the restaurant and street outside. He watched you dressed up in your pretty dress get out of your cab in front of the restaurant. You had such a lovely smile on your face, you must have thought you were in for a romantic evening.

· He watched as you walked inside and how the hostess got flustered and confused by a 2nd girl showing up for your boyfriend’s seated-for-two table.

· Donnie stopped breathing as your eyes found the new couple holding hands and giving each other sweet kisses across the table. Hands and lips that were supposed to be yours were touching some stranger.

· Donnie watched your smile and eyes die…the light of your inner sun go out…

· …and it killed him.

· He’s not sure who was crying the hardest, you standing there in that restaurant witnessing the scene or him back at the lair watching your world crush around you on his monitor.

· It had taken a while for you both to recover from that night.

· His brothers noticed his melancholy mood for a couple of weeks but Donnie wouldn’t tell them what was bothering him. And you stayed in your bed, refusing to face the world, for nearly as long.

· Eventually, the group began to notice your silence and absence, so April stopped by your apartment to check on you. She was the one to pull you out of bed, get you to shower and eat. She visited everyday and made sure you had someone to vent to and a shoulder to cry on.

· Donnie was glad that April could be there for you when he couldn’t. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a male, to be your confidant at that time. Especially since he felt so much guilt over having to be the one to expose you to that pain.

· No, he didn’t CAUSE the pain, but he did have to make you face it and he didn’t like not being able to protect you from it. You were such a rare, precious creature and watching you in pain felt like he was suffocating slowly.

· There were some points during those first few weeks that he questioned if he did the right thing, but logic told him it would have eventually come to pass with or without his involvement. It was better to rip the bandage of quickly and let you start to heal than it was to let you linger and drag out the inevitable.

· Donnie did secretly check on you every single night during patrol. And, of course, his surveillance feeds were always running. He watched from a distance as his beautiful phoenix burn down to ashes and, eventually, started to rise again.

· Now, it’s been over 3 months and you’ve begun to be more like your old self. Donnie can tell there is a silent sadness there, but you are able to laugh and smile with the group during your get togethers. And each time you two are left alone, his mind nags at him about those last two sticking points.

· Would you be at all interested in him? And HOW does he go about telling you that you have become the center of his world?

· Still staring at the monitor and the Stalker definition, Donnie sighs and rubs the bridge of his snout to release of the pressure now pushing against the inside of his head. The memories of what has happened, the emotions of what was and what is, it was all starting to be too much.

· “Bro, what’s all this?”, Mikey says standing behind Donnie’s chair, talking around a mouth full of pizza.

· “NOTHING!”, says Donnie, voice breaking from the stress of being caught. A startled Donnie quickly taps some keys on his keyboard and the screens revert back to the standard lair camera feeds.

· Mikey may look or even come off as naïve at times, but he’s no fool, he can sense that his older brother is trying to hide something. “Dude, seriously, what was that? I’ve been standing back here reading the screens. I saw Y/N’s name and that looked like her phone number on that other file…, you know the file that looks like texts messages. And why is there a plotted map of the area around her apartment, her work, and to the lair? What’s up?”, Mikey said giving a disapproving look at being thought a pushover.

· “Just standard surveillance, Mikey, nothing to worry about.”, Donnie says trying to placate Mikey’s curiosity. Donnie hates lying, especially to Mikey, but he’s feeling so guilty about being such a…(inward sigh)…stalking creep that admitting the truth is hard to do.

· Mikey stands there staring at Donnie and, as he does, Donnie begins to fidget with his computer chair armrests.

· Mikey stuffs the remnants of the pizza slice into his mouth and does his best Leo impersonation by crosses his arms and staring down at Donnie as sternly as his jolly face can achieve, “Dude, I’m not going to ask you again. You’ve been weird for months. We’ve let it go for the most part but now you are hiding things from me…from ME, dude! You and I, we’re like peanut butter and jelly, we’re ice cream and chocolate fudge, we young dudes have got to stick together. Trust me, bro, I’ve got you!”.

· Donnie stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet Mikey’s eyes any longer. He gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly started to speak, “Sorry Mike, I…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately. I’m doing things I never thought I would do, I’m feeling so guilty about it, but I don’t know if I can stop doing it either. I feel…lost.”.

· Mike relaxed his leader stance and leaned against one of Donnie’s lab tables, “Bro, I can tell you’ve been carrying some heavy stuff lately. You need to let it out.”

· Donnie felt the heat rise up through his body like he was suddenly being consumed by a fire and he ripped his glasses off his face and drew them down on the desk in frustration, “Mikey, I’m in love with Y/N. I have been for a while. I have been…”, Donnie hangs his head in shame, “…tracking all her digital foot prints and watching her. In fact, I’m the reason she found out that asshole boyfriend of her's cheated.”

· Mikey’s mouth drops open at Donnie’s demeanor and use of the word ‘asshole’, “Whoa, dude, why didn’t you say something earlier?”.

· Donnie can feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, this was so embarrassing, so frustrating, so…..so many things at a once. He didn’t have a response for Mikey, all he could do was shake his head.

· Still with his head hung down and staring at the floor, Donnie starts to hear Mikey chuckle. Donnie looks up to see Mikey’s eyes on him and for some reason they are full of merriment at his painful dilemma. Donnie stares at his, normally, very considerate brother in astonishment, this isn’t like Mikey at all!

· “Mikey, I’m more than serious here, now is not the time to make fun of me. What is so funny?”, Donnie asks exasperatedly.

· Mikey shakes his bald head and claps his brother on the shoulder with his green hand, “Bro, she thinks you’re cute.”.

· “W-What?!”, Donnie stammers out.

· Mikey, still chuckling, says, “Yeah, dude, that’s why I asked WHY you didn’t say something about liking her sooner, she’s always thought you were cute. She and I talk about it all the time.”.

· Donnie just stares at his jolly brother in silence. His mind is too blown to form a sentence.

· Mikey turns to leave stating, “And by the way, dude, stop watching her like that…that’s just creepy.”.

@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell

[talatomaz]

defenceless | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i can’t believe it’s been a year since i last wrote for jj. and i have no idea where this came from.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

warnings: major references to blood/being stabbed. mentions of assault

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 19 year old adopted daughter and gets victimised after stopping an unsub from assaulting someone

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled when your Mum came up behind you and softly kissed your head.

“Morning, Mum. I made you some breakfast.”

You said, pouring coffee into the seasoned profiler’s ‘No.1 Mom’ mug that you’d gotten for her several years ago.

You’d gifted it to her on the first Mother’s Day you had with her after she adopted you. And she used it that morning and every morning since.

“God, what’d I do to deserve a daughter like you?”

JJ said proudly as she dug into her breakfast, happily munching on a piece of toast as she looked through her case file. Whatever dark, horrific crime she and her team were investigating simplified down to a few pages in that brown file.

“Busy day?” You asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring across at her.

“You have no idea. I’ve been up for a few hours trying to compile some notes on this case we’re working. Young, relatively low-risk, women are being raped in alleyways and there are no witnesses.”

She explained as she continued to eat whilst scribbling shorthand notes on a notepad.

“Any ideas on who you’re looking for yet?”

She hummed in answer. Swallowing her food, she replied, “Yeah, I think we have a preliminary profile that we want to release to the public later today.”

Pouring the rest of her coffee into a travel cup, she put her files in her bag and placed it on the counter you were resting against.

“You got class today?”

You were studying criminology, wanting to follow in your mother’s footsteps and become a profiler.

Nodding, you answered, “Yeah, then some of my friends and I are gonna head to the mall. And yes, I’ll message you constantly, so you know.”

You added when your mother opened her mouth to presumably ask that very question.

“Thanks, sweetie. Whoever our unsub is, he’s targeting women your age and considering he’s probably here right now, I need to know you’re safe.”

“I know, Mum. Now go, you don’t want to be late for work. Hotch only lets you be late once, you know.” You smirked.

“Yes, I know. Bye, y/n. I love you.” Your mother mirrored your expression and kissed your cheek.

“I love you too.” You replied, handing your Mum her keys and you watched her leave as the white door closed gently behind her.

***

“Maybe just call him out on it and see what he says?”

You suggested to your friend, Kerri, after she explained her boyfriend troubles to you and your other friend, Ally.

“I mean, the worst that could happen is-”

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard a muffled scream. Furrowing your brows, you walked closer to where the sound came from; an alleyway behind an old warehouse.

Remembering your mother’s earlier profile, you whispered to your friends, “Stay behind me.”

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Not sure.”

Inching around the corner, you saw two figures behind a dumpster. The smaller figure, who appeared to be a blonde female, was struggling against the male standing over her.

“Hey! Get away from her!”

Shouting, you ran up to the two and watched as the man’s head whipped around to face you before he darted off, jumping over a fence.

Approaching the woman, you saw she was half naked and had blood seeping from her nose.

“Oh god. Call 911, she’s been assaulted.” You said quickly to your friends who stood behind you, shocked at what they had just witnessed.

Hearing Kerri following your instructions, you took off the jacket you were wearing and wrapped it around the exposed girl.

“H-He tried to r-r-”

Unable to form the words, the girl started to sob at her ordeal.

“I know. It’s okay, honey. What’s your name?” You asked, speaking quietly to try to calm her as if she was a spooked animal.

“A-Annie.” She choked out as she tugged your jacket closer around her.

“Annie, you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

The former began to sob harder and fell against your chest. Wrapping one arm around her, you used the other to take out your phone to call your Mum.

“Shh, it’s okay, Annie. You’re okay.” You said, soothing the distraught girl who was currently crying her heart out against you.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?”

After quickly explaining what had just transpired, JJ told you and your friends to remain where you were since you were all witnesses and that she’d be there soon.

“You did good, babygirl.”

Morgan said, handing you a cup of coffee.

You were currently sitting at your mother’s desk at the BAU, having already given your statement to both local police and your Mum’s team at the crime scene. Emily and Spencer had driven your friends home whilst you came with your Mum to her work - she refused to leave you alone, even though you’d argued that it was still daylight and you’d be fine.

You didn’t reply, deciding to sip the hot drink, wincing when it burned your tongue.

“He’s right, y/n. Most people probably wouldn’t have heard anything.”

You glanced up at your Mum who stood above you, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“What will happen now? To the unsub, I mean. I interrupted him so he never managed to rape Annie.”

“He’ll probably try to hurt someone else.”

You turned to face Hotch as he approached you and the rest of his team.

“I just got off the phone with the hospital. They’ve discharged Annie into the care of her parents. She wanted me to tell you ‘thank you’.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. Physically anyways. So, you think he’ll get sloppy? Since he never got to...finish, he’s probably going to be antsy right? He might make a mistake?” You asked, hopeful that your Mum would catch him soon.

“More than likely. He’s definitely going to be angry, especially since we’ve just released the profile along with the sketch you helped us with, y/n.” Hotch answered, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

“Anything I could do to help,” you replied.

Standing up, you faced your Mum, “I think I’m going to go home. I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I’ll drive you h-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted your Mum, “you’re busy here and you’ve got a lot of work to do. Besides, it’s only mid-afternoon so I’ll be fine. I-I just need some air.” You said, your voice faltering when you felt tears forming.

Clearing your throat, you held back your emotions and kissed your Mum on her cheek, “I’ll message you when I get home.”

“Okay, baby. I’m proud of you.”

The tall blonde hugged you close to her which you returned with as much ferocity, her hands stroking your hair as she cradled your head against her.

Bidding your goodbyes to the rest of the team, you left the federal building.

“JJ, you okay?” Morgan asked.

JJ had heard the emotion in your voice and though she was proud to have seen you comforting the most recent victim, it had hurt her heart to see what came after the ambulance drove away with an injured Annie in the back.

Once you’d given your statement and described the unsub to her and her team, she’d followed you to her old vacant office from her media liason days where you’d broken down.

She had watched you hold yourself together by a thread all throughout the questioning but had known that the adrenaline high would crash soon. And you quite literally did crash. In her arms, the moment she had closed the door behind her.

She had fought back her own tears as she gathered you into her arms, soothing you as you did earlier with Annie.

She’d tried as hard as she could to keep you away from her world.

She didn’t want you to be exposed to any more darkness than you’d already experienced when you were younger, before you’d met her.

“JJ?”

The blonde blinked, breaking away from her thoughts to stare back at the rest of the team.

“She did good, JJ.” Morgan repeated as JJ simply nodded, not knowing what to say.

***

Taking out your phone, you sent a message to your group chat with Kerri and Ally, wanting to make sure they were okay.

After receiving replies from the both of them confirming that they were fine and just a bit shaken up, you placed your phone back in your pocket.

Sighing, you continued walking down the relatively empty street; the majority of people either at work or school, unaware of what had happened just a few hours earlier.

You thought about Annie and later crying in your Mum’s arms. You didn’t even know why you did. Spencer probably would have given you some fact about adrenaline crashes but you shook your head, feeling self-conscious.

There was no need for you to break down like that.

All it achieved was your Mum being worried about you which was the last thing you wanted because it meant she’d be distracted from doing her job. Catching this asshole.

Hands in your pockets, you felt the bright sun shine down on your face.

Stopping for a brief moment, you glanced up at the sky, and allowed yourself to breathe.

As you were about to carry on walking, you felt a harsh grip on your arm pull you into an abandoned parking lot.

You thrashed against the strong hold, the self-defence skills your Mum taught you kicking in.

Stomping on the large figure’s foot, you smirked at the grunt of pain that fell from his lips. Then you elbowed them in their stomach and threw your head back into theirs. Hearing more shouts of pain, you started to run before you were roughly pushed against a brick wall.

Your breaths came out in heavy pants and your eyes widened as you stared into familiar eyes.

It was the unsub.

He held himself tight against you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and into your view. Your eyes flickered from the sharp blade to his eyes. They were filled with fury as blood dripped from his nose - from when you’d head butted him.

“Good. So you recognise me.” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed a bunch of nails.

“What do you want?” You spat out, refusing to show any indication of fear to him.

“You ruined the other girl for me. But you seem like a challenge. I like that.”

Pressing the knife against your neck, he used his free hand to undo his belt.

You barely controlled the terror that threatened to rise through your body. Instead, you tried to focus on the pressure of his weapon, waiting for a slight reprieve where you could make your move to escape.

That moment came when he unzipped his trousers.

The pressure lightened for a few seconds which was all you needed.

Grabbing his wrist, you twisted the knife away from you and kneed him in the groin. Pushing him away, you stumbled, trying to escape.

But he was quick on his feet.

He swiftly picked up the knife that had fallen to the floor and thrust it into your stomach.

You groaned, the pain unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach as blood started to coat your clothing.

You slumped down the wall as the unsub crouched down, sneering at you, “Bitch.”

Tapping the ground behind you, you felt a piece of broken glass in your fingers. Gripping it tightly, you gathered all your strength and plunged it into his neck.

He yelled out, his hand going to the glass that was still in his flesh.

Recognising what he was about to do, you clambered to your feet and watched as he pulled the shard, of what appeared to be from a broken beer bottle, out of his skin. Blood splatted all over the wall that you had been against, just moments before.

Blood continued to seep out from your wound.

You took off your jacket - the one you had previously wrapped around Annie - and pressed it against your skin. You groaned at the white hot pain that seared through your skin.

Knowing you were only down the street from the Quantico building, you took out your phone and called your Mum as you walked, as well as you could in your condition, back to the federal building.

“You home already?”

“M-Mum, c-come outside. I-I need you.” You choked out, trying to steady your breathing.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You could hear her shouting to the rest of her team before she continued to talk into the phone.

You made it to the entrance of the federal building but you were too overcome with exhaustion and you felt yourself drop to the floor.

You could hear shouts from the people around you as they watched blood pool around you.

“Oh my god. Y/N!”

You heard your Mum yell as she fell to your side, pressing her hands heavily against your wound.

You barely heard as Hotch called 911, stating his name and rank and urged for an ambulance to be sent immediately.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you looked up at your Mum.

“Come on, baby. Stay awake for me.” JJ begged, tears carelessly running down her face.

“It hurts, Mum.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you’re strong. Stay with me. How’d this happen?”

JJ knew the only way to keep you awake was to continue talking so your brain could still remain active.

“H-He’s dead. He attacked me. I-In a car park. Down there.”

You weakly raised your hand and pointed towards the direction you had come from.

“Good girl. Just stay with me. You’re going to be okay. Y/N? Y/N!”

JJ screamed when she watched your eyes flutter closed as you lost consciousness.

***

“Woah, y/n. It’s just me.”

JJ said quickly when you jumped as she came up behind you to kiss your head.

It had been a few weeks since you’d been stabbed.

You’d woken up in a hospital, hooked up to all sorts of machines monitoring your heart rate. Your eyes had fallen on your mother who, once she saw you were awake, started to cry and hug you close to her. That then made you start crying and the two of you were just a pile of tears as you clung to each other.

After the tears had stopped and the doctors had checked up on you, JJ had told you that they’d found the unsub in a parking lot a few blocks from the BAU.

A couple of days after, you’d been discharged from the hospital. Your mother had stayed by your side up until this week when you had urged her to go back to work.

That had led you to now. She’d just arrived home from work and you hated that you were still on edge after your attack, despite your Mum telling you it was normal.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey.” JJ said softly as she came to sit beside you on the sofa.

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you spoke, your voice coming out in a whisper.

“I’m scared, Mum.”

You felt her eyes on you as she spoke, “Scared? He’s dead, y/n. He can’t hurt you.”

“I know, I just-In that moment when I fought him, I was so defenceless. And I’m scared of what will happen the next time I can’t defend myself.”

You continued, tears welling in your eyes as you stared ahead, unable to face your mother.

“Y/N,” JJ gently turned your face so she could look into your eyes.

“Am I defenceless?”

You blinked, having not expected that question. “What? No.”

“Exactly. I’m not. But I felt like it after I was kidnapped and tortured a few years ago. It’s normal to feel like that, y/n. But it’ll pass. I can promise you that.”

“It’s like I can feel him stabbing me over and over again.” You choked out, failing to force your tears back down.

“Oh, baby.”

JJ gently pulled you to her as she wrapped her arms around your body. She cradled your head against her chest as you clung to her arms, now sobbing.

“I got you, y/n. You’re safe. I got you.” She repeated, soothing you as you continued to cry.

Still hugging you against her, she kissed your head,

“As long as you have me, you’ll never be defenceless.”

[victory-duo]

BDSP came out a while ago! What do you think of it?

Heya! Still trying to do the legendary mon hunt postgame, but I have mixed thoughts about it being such a strict remake yet removing some things, but honestly, BDSP's been a fun revisit to Sinnoh as a game, personally!

Naturally, I treated this run as a revisit of Oliver's run but just in another timeline. :D

I'll put out my cons first:

- I was disappointed in the watering down of contests 'cause they were one of my favorite side activities. The rhythm game would have been nice if they didn't remove the dress up and move appeals completely :(

- I also didn't like that the Underground lost the traditional secret bases and traps, as I was so excited to play with my sister and friends. That said, honestly, the main reason I wanted BDSP was to be able to play Sinnoh with others (I missed out on the DS wifi), so the lack of features to connect and play with others even as simple as poffin-making made me disappointed.

- I am so polarized with the topic of difficulty and balance in this game. This mainly impacted my personal way to go about my journey with my team in Pokemon games, so two things:

1) I did not appreciate affection mechanics being merged with friendship, keeping it separate like in SWSH camp at the least would make me feel less bad that I have high friendship with them but not triggering the OP affection mechanics lol. I didn't like using herbs to lower friendship just to lessen affection so I just lived with it. I don't like battling online so I'd have preferred to experience the competitively-adjusted trainers in the main game with fair battles.

2) The EXP Share topic is a hot one, but it was weirdly balanced yet not in this game? Gen 4 games were not built around it at all, and it was so apparent with the Gym levels after Gardenia that I had to make a backup team to soak up the extra levels. I'm personally in the "make it optional" camp because I liked keeping my team up to speed and turning it off once I feel they're strong enough, but it saved some time pre-Cynthia for me not to be TOO underleveled lol.

And for the pros!

- Playing through it reminded me that there's something I really liked about the older game designs that incentivized backtracking and getting lost out of the way, and I wish future gens moving forward will get that charm of adventuring back. (SWSH dlc felt like that in a good way!)

- The new stuff they can get away with were nice!! I loved having such a tough time with the E4 and Gym rematches.

- I LOVE how they were serious making the trainers competitive and tough. I went in a deliberately underleveled run with the E4 and I like... spent the whole afternoon genuinely struggling with the levels AND their strategies. And Cynthia's Milotic???? MY NIGHTMARE

- I've rambled about it a bit in my twitter once in a while, but the DPPt soundtrack is my favorite from all of the others, and I am so happy to hear how it was approached!

My personal favorites---those I prefer much more now than the ogs, were Trainer battle (I already was obsessed with it before), Eterna, Route 209, Canalave, and the Ending theme.

- And did I mention how much I love the DPPt credits theme?? And BDSP ambushed me in the best way possible once I finished it, wow, I did not expect them to actually base the whole thing mainly from Platinum and add DP elements?!?! It's probably one of my favorite credits sequences as a whole now because of everything they did there, I was so emotional by the end!!!

- My personal favorite part? My sister and I were especially adoring all the new outfits for the O-sibs---they may be few, but I can feel that someone in the new dev team really likes fashion design, and I thought they did such a good job matching the outfits to them as existing characters!!

I wanna doodle all of them sometime, but for now I'll end this post with some of the ones I did while playing:

(I will compile these in a separate post once I complete the outfits!)

All in all, I enjoyed my time while it lasted despite my gripes! I do hope they update the game more 'cause I love Sinnoh, but atm I'm slowly focusing more on Legends. I'm really excited for it and hoping we learn more of it soon!!!

[philtstone]

“summertime” ch. 6

[full fic here]

“What d’you think, Aunt Sarah?”

“Hm?”

Sarah’s doing accounts. The one good thing about accounts is that they don’t really change no matter where you are. Math stays the same and all her fuckin’ spreadsheets remain a pain in her ass. Kamala is supposed to be helping her – asked eagerly to do it thrice over this morning – and she is for the most part, but she’s also distracted every few minutes by Michelle, who is across from them sipping solemnly on a diet Pepsi and compiling a list of songs very in her dilapidated sketchbook. The quiet murmur of the pre-noon bar, empty, keeps them company. 

“What do I think what,” Sarah says.

“Woman Like Me,” Michelle says. “For the girlboss mixtape.”

“Technically it’s a playlist,” says Kamala helpfully. “He’d listen to it on an iPod.”

An old iPod – it’s one of those novelty colours (blue like his eyes) and scratched. The kids insisted he keep it for himself so that they could foist their respective media obsessions – tastes, fancies, whatever keeps them occupied and distracted in the daily doldrums, they got that DnD game, too – onto him under the guise of cultural education. Sarah thinks mostly they just miss having friends to talk about stuff with at school, and Bucky is a good listener. He doesn’t tease or have stubbornly established taste like Sam does and declares favourite songs in a way Sarah hasn’t got the mental energy to do. All the media files are pirated because official avenues mean imprisonment and torture. And also, because they are insanely expensive.

“Oh, he already knows that one,” she says distractedly. One of those early days, Before, she came home to her brother’s rental in the driveway, her brother in the backyard with the boys, and James Barnes scrubbing down the inside of her fridge and serenely humming the Little Mix song she’d played the previous afternoon in the car. 

She’d thought then that maybe life had turned around for the better.

Michelle blinks, then says, “Okay, yeah. The embarrassing white dad energy checks out.”

Kamala giggles. Sarah starts a new column and says, “But God, I thought you girls’d finished that mix weeks ago.”

“It’s a new one,” chirps Kamala. “Part two.”

“I’m doin’ it here so I can get you and Kamala’s takes,” Michelle adds, peering at her list and chewing on the tip of her pen. “It came to my attention that we have multi-generational wisdom at our disposal.”

Multi-generational wisdom makes Sarah think of her grandmother again. She hums behind her teeth and stares down at her numbers. She keeps losing her spot because instead of math her head is full of the previous night’s mundane terror – it amounted to nothing really – and the desperate way she is missing Bucky’s presence. He’s had a couple bad spells. Rhodey’s visit overlapped with their attempt to breathe and move past it and then what happened. She thinks he is okay now, just sleeping poorly. He spent last night downstairs with Sam. But Tuesday, yeah, it was bad: sluggish all day and then at four a.m. she woke up to him sobbing and trembling in a corner. He wouldn’t let her touch him. Sarah knows it was not personal but it left her feeling helpless anyway. 

“Survivor by Destiny’s Child,” she says, plugging the last few numbers into their handy-dandy calculator. “And uh, there’s a Kelly Clarkson one.”

read more on ao3

[showyoumyfavoriteobsession]

Underdiscovered Polygon Streams

I started compiling this list a while ago, accidentally published the draft, panicked, and deleted it instead of saving again SO here's attempt number 2! Probably not new to most folks, but some fun non-series streams that I have found while plumbing the depths of my hyperfixation. Feel free to add your own!

Best Video Game Music of 2017 Funstravaganza! Clayton and Simone play Audiosurf to the Polygon staff’s (Brian, Susana, Allegra, Pat, and Russ) favorite video game music as an end-of year celebration. I love this idea and wish they did it more years! CW for LOTS of flashing lights.

Simone and Ashley’s Overwatch Dream Date Spectacular Simone and Ashley were giving away merch and screaming. A lot. Simone is an aro queen and has no idea what constitutes a date.

It’s Jaws Time in SUBNAUTICA w/ Jenna and Clayton Jenna’s first stream! She and Clayton explore the ocean in search of big scary fish. Generally chill, a few deep-sea jumpscares. (They talked about this one on a Valheim stream recently!)

Fort Friends! Pat, Jenna, Simone, and Clayton play Fortnite like... some kind of squad that is bad at games. Some kind of... terrible squad.

Polygon’s Friday Afternoon Smash Party A rotating group of Samit, Jenna, Clayton, Russ, Brian, Simone, Allegra, and Pat playin’ Smash Bros. Closes with Yoshi Betting, which is strangely investing.

NO MORE HEROES Turns 10, with Pat and Brian One of Brian’s first streams, playing a Wii game with big nostalgia for Pat. A chill good time.

Pat and Allegra Play Spellspire - Fantasy Typing RPG Pretty much what it says on the tin. Allegra is a very good with words and Pat is there also /s The developers put in a patch in response to this stream which is delightful.

Mount Your Friends 3D - Polygon Will Reach The Peak Russ, Clayton, Brian, Jenna, and Pat cycle through playing this very silly physics-based game.

Yakuza 6 - Pat and Allegra are Doing Crimes, But Only the Cool Kinds of Crimes They play minigames and take silly selfies. Also check out this video, which they reference in the stream, where they play a silly mission with the Yakuza localization team.

Ashley and Pat Play YOSHI’S WOOLLY WORLD Part of a short-lived series called Me You and Wii U. We learn some cursed facts about beloved Nintendo characters and take a good nostalgia trip.

Pat Plays Tokyo 42 A rare solo stream; if you, like me, just enjoy listening to Pat’s voice, you’ll like this. The game has a really cool art style too.

~*~Pat and Simone Stream Corner~*~

(I think these are more well-known but just in case you're like me and always digging for more Pat and Simone content)

MONSTER HUNTER: WORLD - Pat and Simone Vs. Big Lizards Simone has a banana crisis

Pat and Simone Play MR. SHIFTY cool game

Pat and Simone Play Human: Fall Flat Pat relates childhood trauma

CUPHEAD with Simone and Pat really satisfying co-op play

PAT AND SIMONE EXTREME BIKERZ SIMULATOR Simone talks about communists and learns about soda syrup

Polygon Plays Red Dead Redeption 2 Again Patrick “horse crimes” Gill. Very good cameos from Jenna and Clayton.

Red Dead Redemption 2 Online: Cowboy Babies (part 1) (part 2) The first half-hour is them making each other in character creation

BURNOUT PARADISE REMASTERED - Pat and Simone Go To Car World Good Game Ogre lore

~*~Thanks for visiting the Pat and Simone Stream Corner~*~

[beelsnack]

Henlo!!! Just wanted to request MC getting surprised by the demon bros in the human realm! The bros miss MC a lot so they just surprise them and hang out for a bit :) it can be HCs! Thank you and I love ya work ❤️

Henlo!! Get ready for some fluff, my dudes.

I don’t know why, but this seemed better as short little headcanons as opposed to my usual scenarios.

-----

Lucifer

- He had expressly forbade any of his brothers from going up to the human world, because “they needed time to readjust.”

- But apparently Pridey McPrideface is exempt from his own rules.

- He does his research. If the human still lives with their parents or has roommates, he picks a night when they are home alone.This night is reserved for the two of them, and he will eviscerate anyone who gets in the way.

- Honestly, he wants to do some sort of grand entrance, but in the end, he simply knocks on the door.

- “Hello, my dear,” he takes their hand and kisses their knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

- “Lucifer!” they tackle him with a hug strong enough to knock over a lesser demon. In his peripheral, Lucifer sees a neighbor stick their head out of the door and look around with a confused look.

- “You have nosy neighbors, I see.”

“Well, I mean, I did just scream ‘Lucifer...’”

“Perhaps we should go inside before someone calls a priest?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

- The two of them spend the night in their living room, just talking. They ask if he wants to go out somewhere, but he declines.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been in centuries. I’m perfectly satisfied with staying in with you.”

- He hadn’t intended to stay the night, but it was near impossible to resist the offer. And that would end up being his downfall.

- He had forgotten about that stupid game that his brothers and the human liked to play, where they got pictures of each other sleeping. And, just as he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend the night with them, they couldn’t resist the temptation to steal a picture while he slept.

- When he arrived back at the House of Lamentation, all six of his brothers were waiting for him in the entrance hall.

- “So, where ya been, Luci?” Mammon sneered. “Ya couldn’t have possibly snuck off to visit the human after makin’ damn sure you told us not to do that, now could ya?”

“It’s not like our dear eldest brother to do something so hypocritical.” Satan said coolly, regarding Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.

“...I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Lucifer huffed.

“’Hey guys! How many points is a sleeping Lucifer worth?’” Levi turned his phone around to show Lucifer a picture of his own sleeping face, with the human’s laughing eyes just poking out from the bottom corner.

“...Oh.”

He wasn’t living this one down for a while.

Mammon

- This sneaky little bastard straight up just climbs into their room in the middle of the night.

- You know, like he DIDN’T live in a completely different realm.

- The human damn near punches him in the face when he wakes them up.

- “Mammon, what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“Visiting, what’s it look like?”

“To my neighbors, probably breaking and entering.”

- They should kick him out, all they have to do is issue a pact command. But Mammon looks at them with his sad blue eyes and they just can’t bring themself to do it.

- “I got so used to ya...y’know...sleeping next to me.” he shuffled around like a kid waiting to get scolded. “It’s hard to fall asleep when ya ain’t there.”

“Shut up and cuddle with me, you big baby.”

- They stay up stupidly late watching vine compilations and talking until they straight up just pass out against each other. They stay like that for the rest of the night.

- And by rest of the night I mean until freaking noon the next day. And the only reason they wake up then is because Lucifer is blowing up Mammon’s phone.

- “Mammon, where are you?”

“If you’re out clubbing, be back at a reasonable hour. If you’re out scheming, don’t come back until you have something to show for it.”

“You better not have passed out in a gutter somewhere. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Mammon, please tell me you didn’t directly disobey an order and go visit the Human Realm.”

Four unread voicemails.

“Welp, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks, human, love you too.”

Leviathan:

- Social anxiety is a bitch and a half, so he just asks if he can come visit.

-Deadass just portals into their living room like “’Sup, I brought games, go get some snacks and get prepared to get rekt.”

- That’s it, that’s the visit.

- They decide to do multiplayer vs some other humans and they wipe the floor with them.

- “Eat it, normies, I’M the one playing with a hot person! Have fun in your moms’ basements!”

“Pot meet kettle, Levi.”

“I don’t live in a basement, though!”

“Fair point. Boom, headshot!”

- Levi manages to sleep over without repercussions solely because nobody is surprised if he doesn’t show up somewhere.

Satan

- Makes direct eye contact with Lucifer as he leaves the House of Lamentation and goes “Don’t wait up.”

-Times his surprise visit so he’s made himself comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee when they get home.

- They brought a friend over to study or whatever. The human sees him in the middle of the living room and just screeches “Satan, what the fuck?”

-The friend is like “Aight imma head out.” And like goes into witness protection.

- Satan comes bearing gifts of the newest installments of Devildom book series’ and a recording of the episodes of the crime dramas that they need to catch up on.

- They pause between each episode to talk theories even though Satan already knows what happens. Both of them feel proud of the human when they figure it out.

- Mammon texts Satan in the middle of the night in absolute terror.

Mammon: Satan you get your ass back to the Devildom right now!

Satan: Why?

Mammon: Because Lucifer is about to rip a hole through the dimensions to drag you back here!

Satan: That sounds like a Lucifer problem.

Mammon: It’s about to be a Three Realms problem!

- Read 2:09 AM

Asmodeus

- He just tells Lucifer he’s going to visit Solomon.

- And makes sure to tell him that if Lucifer decides to interrupt him, he will gladly let him listen to all of the naughty things they’re going to be doing.

- And Lucifer just straight up doesn’t want to deal with his shit so he lets it go.

- The human comes home to see Asmo stretched out on their bed scrolling through Devilgram.

- “Ugh, finally! You took forever!”

“Asmo? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was planning on seducing you, but I absolutely refuse to have sex on a bed that moans louder than I do.”

- They go on a cute little cafe date and Asmo insists on going to all of the high-end fashion stores.

- “Devildom fashion trends always seem a few decades behind the human world. Honestly, it wasn’t until about five years ago that I could find a skirt above my knees! You would think a Realm full of sin and vice would be a little more up-to-date with provocative attire.”

- FASHION. SHOW.

-They spend an absurd amount of time trying on tacky jewelry and roasting it via Snapchat. Like, the employee showed up on Asmo’s story as they were kicking them out.

- They buy a bottle of liquor on their way back to the human’s place, get absolutely smashed and, depending on your preference, either have the giggliest sex ever or watch stupid beauty hack videos. Maybe both. Actually, definitely both.

- The next morning, Asmo does an Inter-dimensional Walk of Shame and no one is surprised.

Beelzebub

- Was going to lie about where he was going but felt guilty about it.

- So he just didn’t tell anyone.

-Knocks on the human’s door and immediately gives them the biggest bear hug.

- “I missed you, so I came to visit. That’s okay, right?”

- Beel wants to go out to eat, but the human flat out says no because they can’t afford to wine and dine the Avatar of Gluttony.

- They compromise by buying a crapton of snacks at the grocery store.

- Cashier: Must be a big party you’re having.

Human, grabbing a family size bag of chips out of Beel’s hand without even turning to look at him: Yup.

- They make themselves a blanket fort in their living room, watching movies and eating way too many snacks. Beel asks them questions about their family and their life up there. If the human has photos, he wants to see all of them.

-The human falls asleep mid-movie, slumping against his shoulder. Beel picks them up and tucks them into bed, planning on leaving to let them rest before they sleepily ask him to spend the night.

Belphegor

- Convinces Mammon to cover for him.

- Does this by going “Please, Big Brother?” and Mammon caves almost immediately.

- Pops into the human’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning and wiggles into bed with them.

- “Why am I not surprised?”

“Missed you too.”

- Human just accepts the snuggles and goes back to sleep. Belphie makes sure they have good dreams.

- If they have work or school, Belphie convinces them to call in sick and spend the day with him.

- Lots of naps and sleepy kisses. The chillest day ever.

- The human feels so relaxed that they almost convince Belphie to stay another night, and Belphie almost agrees.

- But Mammon’s ability to bullshit will only last so long, and Belphie knows he needs to go back before someone notices that his “afternoon nap” was going on 14 hours.

- “Come see me in my dreams, okay?”

[baepop]

Muse

You meet a quiet painter that helps you manage your anger.

Word Count: 4.7k

Pairing: You x Taehyung

Genre: Slight fluff, slight angst, Smut

A/N: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I had to sit down and write it out this afternoon. I hope you guys like it 🥺

What are you thinking?

The pinkish hue of your cheeks had long subsided now, though the heaving in your chest still remained albeit at a minimal level. The part in your lips prevailed as well, if only to huff the stray hairs falling over your face occasionally.

The rest of your hair was sprawled across the back of his couch like wild seaweed. Your favorite necklace rested in the crook of your collarbone as the dainty chain tickled your sensitive neck. Goosebumps broke out across your arms as they, too, were strewn across the couch. Your pose wasn’t ideal, but you knew it was exactly how he wanted you, so you wouldn’t get up to close the window letting in a cold draft.

His apartment was quaint, a studio on the upper west side that resided above a bodega and a taqueria. You’ve had many opportunities to take it all in, yet somehow there was always something new to discover whenever your eyes wandered.

You pondered if this was all a big metaphor with some grand artistic meaning about how it somehow represented his mental state. How he, such a quiet and minimal person could be happy in such a cluttered apartment on one of the busiest streets in the city was beyond you. You peered at the ostentatious wallpaper juxtaposed with the exposed brick behind him. Paintings lent up against the walls on the ground, stacked against each other, even in the kitchen. Only one word came to mind: loud.

Your eyes eventually came back to him, and when they did, the pink hue returned except this time it was in the form of a blush. He had been eyeing you carefully, waiting to make eye contact with you. When you did, he shot you that lopsided smirk you knew so well before he returned to his canvas. It was his way of telling you to stop moving your head so much.

You leaned your head against the back of the couch again and didn’t move until he finally put his brush down. He stood and backed away from his painting to gain some perspective, deciding if he was truly finished or not.

You’d once heard that paintings are truly never finished, it was just a matter of when the artist was willing to stop. Since then, you’d always wondered when Taehyung would deem it acceptable to put the brush down, when he’d feel that he had done everything he could to capture your essence. You knew there had to be something to it, since every time you’d gaze at the finished product it’d take your breath away.

He was always able to capture your inner feelings with eerie accuracy, which was something that endlessly amazed you.

So many afternoons spent in his apartment, you venting about the latest thing that got your blood to boil while he focused on his artwork. And each time, as you’d emptied your brain of all its toxic contents, he’d make magic happen on the paper.

You watched Taehyung shake his head then return to his seat and pick up the brush again. Some days it was harder for him to decide when to stop.

As you laid naked on the upholstery basking in the afternoon sun that was now filtering in through the window, you began to reminisce about the first time you had posed for him. Your face had been the color of a tomato from complaining about a rude bus driver and your hair was a matted mess after waking up late for work that morning. You didn’t understand how you could possibly be anyone’s muse, especially that day.

You had been in no mood to sit around for hours in a strange apartment, but you had given Taehyung your word after he kindly texted you asking for you to be his model earlier that week. You both happened to take a recreational art class downtown together a year ago when he had tapped you on the shoulder two hours into the lesson and extended his phone to you for your number. You had tagged along with a friend that day to see what their art class was like, and you were glad you did when you saw how cute the shy guy across the room was up close. You were flattered, to say the least, especially when he had later texted asking you to be his personal model. After all, the class had been about learning to paint the human anatomy, so the proposition hadn’t come from left field.

But when the day finally came, you just weren’t in the mood. You showed up and took your clothes off in a huff, taking a seat in front of him and attempting the breathing exercises your anger management counselor had taught you.

As the hours went by, you realized you probably weren’t making such a good model, and your annoyance turned into shame as he moved away from his painting. When you were just about done getting redressed, he turned the easel towards you and took your breath away just like that.

He was an amazing artist, but more than that he was exceptionally observant. What you expected to be a painting of you being petulant and looking anywhere but at him, was instead of a girl that looked very unsure of herself. He’d even used a cool toned palette exclusively to convey those feelings perfectly. You could only look at him in awe, feeling more vulnerable than you had been with your clothes off a minute ago.

After that, he texted you to come over on a weekly basis, and each time you came and did much of the same. You’d take your clothes off and pose anywhere in front of where his easel stood ready and waiting. And each time, he’d reveal a part of you on the paper that you never cared to show anyone.

You were ashamed to admit that you were always angry stepping into his apartment, but each time he turned the easel towards you, a different girl stared back at you. Sometimes she was scared, sometimes she was hopeful.

A few sessions later, you felt as though you could trust Taehyung, partly because he seemed to be in tune with parts of you that you hadn’t even known existed deep under the many levels of anger and hatred that bubbled noisily at your surface. He made you want to express yourself, which was something that was tough for you to do, even with your therapist. But it wasn’t like there was anything else to fill the silence with during those quiet hours anyway. So every week you’d come over expose yourself to him in more ways than one.

You couldn’t exactly call it talking, though.

You’d tell him about what happened that day to make you mad, and sometimes what made you feel particularly murderous. Few times, you’d express something that made you happy, because those really came few and far between. And whenever you did, you felt oddly childlike, as if expressing happiness was somehow attributed to being young while expressing grievances was adult-like. Or maybe it was the way Taehyung’s eyes brightened whenever you talked about something positive. It made you want to look for more things to be happy about, and that in itself, was childlike, you supposed.

But it was all one sided. After a long time of posing for him, you began to wonder if that was the deal: you’d express yourself for him while he’d express himself on paper. You figured it wasn’t a terrible trade, but as time went by you found it increasingly frustrating not to have any reciprocation on the same level. His artwork was always a reflection of you, and it left a huge mystery about who Taehyung really was inside.

Of course, you were never one to accept things as they were if you weren’t content with them, so you slowly learned how to better communicate with someone who was mute.

At first it annoyed you that he’d never answer your questions, no matter how simple or complex they were. Occasionally, if you asked him something that warranted an obvious “yes”, he’d look up from the canvas and smile with his eyes before returning to the task at hand. Those small notions were enough to hold you over until the next question arose. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t being heard, or seen, for that matter. His paintings of you proved quite the opposite.

Your painting sessions became like therapy, in a way. You always felt alleviated after posing for him, and over time, you came to depend on them. What started off as you warily stepping into his place with your bag clutched around your shoulder checking for hidden cameras and other red flags turned into you bursting in with two coffees in your hand already starting a story about your bitch of a boss. Taehyung found your workplace gossip hilarious, though you’d never know why. And overtime, his chuckle was also something you felt was like a small yet precious gift to you, another facet of the elusive painter who was still inspired by your body countless artworks later.

Taehyung and his cluttered studio.

They started off as something you didn’t want but definitely needed. You found it quite a drag to commute to his side of town regularly especially when you were in a foul mood most days. You often kicked yourself for agreeing to go.

Yet these days, it was quite the opposite. You had managed to make some serious headway with your anger management over the past few months, partly thanks to Taehyung for giving you a space to safely and comfortably talk through your turbulent thoughts and emotions. But now, you looked forward to paying him visits, not because you needed to vent, but because you wanted to see him. You wanted to find more peculiar things in his apartment, to notice something else about his personality that you hadn’t before, to be in his calming presence. Because just as he had plenty of time to stare at every inch of your body’s anatomy, you did so too. And boy, did you take advantage.

You had already been compiling a mental list of things about Taehyung you had noticed over time, intimate details that somehow set the cosmic scoreboard even for how intimately he was getting to know your naked body.

For example, he had a crinkle between his eyebrows when he focused on painting a particular part of you that was giving him trouble to grasp. When he was really focused, he’d jut his tongue out a bit and swipe his bottom lip. He often liked to run his fingers through his hair when leaning away from his portrait to gain some perspective. He always pursed his lips before smiling, as if showing amusement was somehow forbidden. And when he gave way to a smirk, it almost always bloomed into the widest boxiest smile you’d ever seen. His hair had more highlights in it than you cared to count, and he had a weird aversion to coasters. Dried rings on countertops all over his apartment served as unquestionable proof of.

You felt like you were finally starting to grasp what kind of person he was, though it still felt as if you were outside looking in. You wanted to know him like he knew you, but you weren’t sure it was possible to be let into someone’s heart that you’d never had a proper conversation with. It proved to be a very difficult thing. But when your efforts came to fruition, the recompence you felt was beyond words.

It was during a particularly shitty day, not because anything made you mad, but because the weather was god awful. Nonstop rain mixed in with cold weather and persistent winds made for a troublesome commute. And because of it, it took way longer to get to Taehyung’s place than normal. When he opened the door for you an hour after your agreed meetup time, his eyebrows shot up in surprise but nonetheless let you in. His hair was damp and his TV was on, two things you’d never seen before.

You had dropped your bag, coat and wet shoes at the door, hugging yourself and rubbing your arms as you walked further in. His heater was on, so you immediately went to go sit by it. You hadn’t realized your teeth were chattering until he brought you a steaming cup of coffee with a sympathetic look to boot. You took it from his hands gratefully and fixed your trembling fingers over the smooth ceramic, blowing the steam away before taking a tentative sip. Mmm, dark roast.

Taehyung looked over at his art supplies, his fingers twitching when his eyes landed on his recently cleaned brush, poised and ready on the lip of the easel. But when he looked back at you, he decided it was probably best not to have you take your clothes off right away. So he brought a blanket over to you and draped it over your shoulders before returning to his seat on the couch. He was watching a horror movie, which made you all the more curious about this strange boy that never talks. What kind of person watches horror movies alone?

The coffee, blanket and heater warmed you up rather quickly, and soon you had removed your socks and your sweater before settling in to watch the climax of the spooky film. You wanted to wait for him to suggest he still wanted to paint you, feeling perfectly content to just hang out like this. For the next half hour, you both took turns glancing at each other but missing eye contact as if this was a game of tag. You started smiling to yourself, wondering why today felt so different when you had already been meeting for months now.

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation before decidedly moving to sit next to him on the couch. He moved over to give you plenty of room before returning your smile politely, though there was an amused glint in his eyes that you hadn’t missed before he turned to give the television his undivided attention. You wondered if this sudden electricity between you both was all in your head. It’s not like you could ask him directly, or if you wanted to for that matter. It’d be embarrassing if he hadn’t developed a crush on you over these past few months as you had with him.

Yet as you sat on the same couch you had lounged in for months, you couldn’t help but wonder what if?

You swallowed thickly and your pulse quickened as you realized how close his hand was to you. It laid in between you both, flat against the cushion. You never noticed how pretty his hands were before now, taking in the light vans that ran up his arms stemming from his slender fingers, Your own fingers twitched before you slowly inched your hand forward nand placed it over his. Your eyes flitted towards him, regarding him warily. He had been watching the movie with his head leaning on his palm, and when your skin made contact, his eyes moved sideways, first taking in the intimate gesture then looking at you briefly before turning back to the television in what looked to be a bored expression.

Your bravery crumbled and you began moving your hand away, but he caught it in his before you could get away and then laced your fingers together. Your eyebrows shot up and you tried to hold back the huge smile on your face as you finished watching the movie with your hands joined in between you both. Taehyung couldn’t help but look over at you a few more times and grinning at the blush on your face, finding it cute how shy you were when it came to making a move.

When the movie had ended, you both sat quietly, playing with each other’s fingers, you giggling girlishly and him enjoying the sight of you being so flustered. Eventually the flashing of his phone screen from across the room caught his attention and he dropped your hand, much to your disappointment. You figured that was as much as you were going to get out of him today, so you began stripping as he busied himself typing away. When he returned to you, he was surprised to see you naked and posed, ready to be his muse again. You furrowed your brow and gestured toward the easel to which he shook his head slowly. Ah, I guess he doesn’t want to paint any more today.

“Sorry, I figured we were still doing that. Should I just go and come back next week?” Taehyung thought for a moment then shook his head again, coming to sit by you once more. “Then… what? You want to sit here and hold hands all day?” Taehyung quirked his brow at you, his lips pursing as he held back a smile. “You’re so frustrating sometimes you know.” This time he smiled and scratched the top of his head while looking at the floor, not offering any semblance of what his plans were.

It’d been a while before something miniscule got you worked up and angry like it used to, so you were surprised when the way his eyes seemed to roll away from you caused a switch inside of you to click. You were growing angrier by the second and you couldn’t seem to stop it.

You huffed as you yanked your top from the floor and pulled it on over your head. You reached for your underwear and kicked your legs through the holes as Taehyung sat and watched you with patient eyes.

“I mean, you could text me or something and let me know not to come over next time. I don’t live close by you know.” You huffed as you stood up to get your sweater that still laid serenely by the radiator. You weren’t looking forward to braving the wet and cold just after you had dried and warmed up.

But before you could march over to it, Taehyung firmly took hold of your wrist, causing you to spin on your heel.

“I’m sorry, don’t go.”

You ogled at him, looking at his lips for a while to see if they’d move again. You couldn’t believe he just talked aloud. When they didn’t, you looked up at his eyes in confusion. His expression was urgent, his pupils deep pools of sincerity that you could swim in forever. He was genuinely apologizing, though you felt there was no need. You already knew you were throwing a fit needlessly.

“…I…”

Taehyung slowly smiled, realizing it was your turn to be speechless. He tugged at your wrist, guiding you to sit on his lap. Your heart raced at the newfound proximity. You were now close enough to smell his bodywash which was enough to make your head swim if it wasn’t for the fact that Taehyung just spoke in the most rich and velvety voice you’d ever heard.

“I thought…you were mute.”

“Selective.” Taehyung held your gaze for a minute as his fingers brushed against the soft skin under your wrist, feeling your pulse thump furiously. You looked into his eyes with uneven breath as the realization hit. He was finally letting you in.

Suddenly you were leaning in, craving to experience the full extent of his emotions. And so he met you halfway, molding his soft lips around yours in a deep kiss that made your heart stop altogether.

His large hands took hold of your sides and held you tightly against him as he leaned in to savor your taste. His tongue swiped curiously against your lip so you parted your mouth, allowing him full access to it. You leaned back the more he leaned in, and eventually you were both laying down on the couch with him positioned on top of you, making out intensely. When he broke away panting, his lips were swollen and his eyes full of lusty haze. You didn’t get a chance to take his demeanor in fully, because his lips were back on you again except kissing at the skin of your neck instead, leaving marks along their journey to your collar bone. Each bruise was a paragraph of text written on your paper skin, each lick a compliment he longed to give you since the first time you took your clothes off for him.

It seemed as though for all that he lacked verbally, he more than compensated with touch and emotion.

His hands sneaked underneath your shirt and pulled it off of you before he gazed at your chest. You blushed, because although he’d seen your breasts countless times before, he’d never looked at them the way he was now. You felt like a clay statue he was breathing life into as his lips latched onto your buds, causing your back to lift off of the cushions. He was as good with his mouth as he was with his brush strokes.

You made quick work of his shirt, feeling all too eager to feel his burning skin on yours. His touch was setting you ablaze, and you found the dull ache in between your legs increasingly harder to ignore. You carded your fingers through his hair as he took his pants off impatiently. You’d have taken the opportunity to take your own underwear off, but something told you you’d enjoy it a lot more if he did it for you.

Taehyung leaned back on his heels, his eyes shooting downwards as you opened your legs tentatively. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties and slowly peeled them off of you as if he was opening a present. He licked his lips as he spread your legs wide before him, taking in your glistening sex from his vantage point. Suddenly he bit his lip and stood up, disappearing behind the couch momentarily. He returned with a condom and tore into the packet as you both looked at each other eagerly.

Finally, he sat in between your legs again, brushing his thumb against your reddened clit as he licked his lips. You didn’t want to wait for him anymore, so you sat up and took hold of his lips with yours again, guiding him down onto you and wrapping your legs around his waist. When he plunged inside of you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He rocked his hips slowly at first and continued peppering your body with kisses and bites. Your nails dug into his back while he balanced himself on his elbows, his hands pushing away the hair from your face. When he kissed your lips again, your tongues swirled wildly, causing him to lose control and pick up the pace. You hissed and moaned, your hips coming up to meet him stroke for stroke.

And as his movements got increasingly rougher and more urgent, you lost yourself in them over and over again because now it was his turn to express himself.

Your sweaty bodies writhed against each other all afternoon, each moan of yours an appreciation of his affection towards you and each grown of his conveying a wordless confession.

Making love to Taehyung was like him having a conversation with your body. He knew all the right places to touch and when. He’d get so wrapped up and passionate during your afternoons spent together that he’d hardly seem like the same quiet man sitting across from you staring at a canvas for hours. He was rough yet gentle, persistent yet patient, truly in keeping with the enigma that he had always been to you.

And now, as you sat on the very same couch you both had made love on the first time and many times afterward, you found yourself eyeing him mischievously. It had been 20 minutes after he decided his painting wasn’t quite finished yet, and you were getting antsy.

He’d caught your look, and though a reaction didn’t register on his face, the growing bulge sitting pretty in between his legs was enough for you.

Your nipples were quickly hardening in the frigid air entering through the open window, though the reason for that wasn’t entirely attributed to the col temperature. Normally you were patient enough to wait until he was done, but today was stressful and you wanted so badly for him to help you relieve some of that stress.

So you didn’t bother holding back your joy when he finally stood up from his spot in the corner and sauntered over to you, giving you a disapproving look. You looked back at him apologetically, though you weren’t sure it translated well as you bit your lip lustfully at his approaching figure. He sighed, flicking one of your hardened nipples roughly. You let out a shaky breath to which he snickered as he pulled his shirt off over his head. This time it was his turn to bite his lips as you purposely spread your legs, giving him a full view of what he was capable of doing to you without so much as touching you.

He growled as he crawled onto the couch, groping your curves and dips as he contemplated how to punish you for being a fidgety model. You awaited eagerly with a shallow breath then squealed as he abruptly scooped you into his arms and off the couch. He brought you over to the windowsill and sat you down before kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs again. Your breath hitched in your throat at the first stroke of his tongue on your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the windowsill as you scooted closer to the edge to give him better access to you. You made a mental note to interrupt his painting sessions more often.

“A-ah….Taehyung…” You moaned softly as he sucked lightly on your clit. His eyes watched you carefully as his tongue navigated your slick folds expertly. When you threw your head back as his tongue got closer to your entrance, he pushed the wet muscle inside and fucked you with his face, causing you to buck your hips onto him. Your head snapped back down, and your fingers latched onto his hair, guiding him in and out of you as you fucked his face. You were so close to cumming, but you needed a bit more. That’s when Taehyung replaced his tongue with two fingers, plunging them inside you and curling them upwards as he milked the orgasm from you. You hunched over, holding onto his head tightly as you came all over his mouth and fingers.

“Fuck…that was…” You panted and let go of him, allowing him to stand back up as he wiped the side of his mouth with his thumb. He smiled at you brightly, all semblance of disapproval gone from his angelic features. You brough him towards you and kissed him passionately, only then feeling the cold wind licking at your backside. You shivered, so he took your hand and led you off the windowsill.

He embraced you as you wrapped your arms around his midsection, holding you in silence for a few moments. Eventually, he tipped your chin up to stare into your eyes and gauge the rest of your sentence from what your eyes could give away. You looked back at him and smiled, feeling brave enough to ask him something that didn’t have a simple yes or no answer for once.

“What are you thinking?”

Taehyung looked down for a moment then took your hand in his. He brought you over to his easel and placed you in front of today’s painting, looking at your reaction carefully. You had expected to see yourself staring at the center of the page looking horny as ever.

But as you gazed at the painting, you saw a girl who was very much in love.

Your chest tightened and your eyes glistened. Turning towards Taehyung, you looked up at his wary eyes. He held his breath as his thumb stroked your knuckles, conveying more than you had ever expected him to be able to. And for once, you were glad there were no words.

[mimiwrites2000]

Blue Meeting Blue

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Side Pairings: Jean x Pieck / Gabi x Falco:

Words count: 2010

* spoilers for ending of  manga

inspired by this fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

Summary:

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted. The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided. For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

the day of their wedding was finally here, Armin and Annie, the world waiting for them, and they were ready to face it, as one.

Husband and wife.

a one-shot about Aruani wedding, based on fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

His heart drummed in his ears. The lump in his throat enlarged into a coarse rock, impossible to swallow. His throat tight on his windpipes he could barely breathe.

He tried to compile the tips he read a few days earlier; deeply breathing and a smile.

He failed miserably at both.

“Armin?” 

He brushed his suit.

“Armin?”

He shifted his weight from one feet to the other.

“Armin!”

“Yes!” Armin jumped, searching around him, catching a few glances from the small crowd.

“Why are you not responding?”

Armin turned around and-

“Oh, Connie, I’m sorry, I’m just- you know, I was just-” Armin shook his head, waiting for Connie to somehow decipher the concoction of words he threw at him.

“It’s ok,” Connie chuckled, running his hand up and down Armin’s back, “it’s your wedding, it’s ok to be nervous.”

Armin thought about it for a moment, clicking his sharp crispy shoes on the wooden floor: “I’m not… I’m not nervous…”

“Excited?” Connie retorted, raising an expecting eyebrow at Armin.

At that, Armin blushed.

“Oh come on,” Connie laughed, nudging Armin, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Armin turned around, combing his hair down with his palms, his eyes scrutinizing the invited. Less than twenty people seated in rows, the joyous anticipating guests shifted in their seats, smiling at Armin and waving. The humble place densed with close friends and family. As ambassadors, their compulsory position obliged them to have another big, huge wedding, inviting the allied nations and every political face ever. A just-for-show kind of celebration, glazed in fake smiles and formalities. Armin and Annie had an innate dislike for these occasions. But they would have to do it either way. For now, they would live every moment of this homely, small wedding. 

They didn’t go venue hunting. Historia offered her own warehouse (that was attached to her farm house) to hold their wedding; they couldn’t say no to that. 

The warehouse transformed into a cozy, traditional hall, rows of velvety pink chairs aligned in straight lines, breaking in the middle to form a path overlayed with a shiny white carpet, leading up to where Armin was waiting. White flowers decorating the humble place, with golden fabric draped in soft curves. It gave off the family atmosphere Armin and Annie strived for. 

They couldn’t have it any better.

Gabi and Falco settled in the last row, Falco shamelessly and most likely unaware of himself openly-swooning over Gabi, both in summer outfits, Gabi’s dress flowered from the top to the bottom, Falco clad in a brown modern suit. Gabi was either oblivious to Falco’s hypnotized state, or she acted oblivious. Armin decided it was the latter.

Jean was sitting beside Pieck, facing away from each other. Armin sighed, they probably got into another fight. Since they started dating two years ago, their relationship had been on and off all the time.

Armin moved on, but the movement of Pieck’s hand took his attention. Slowly, she slithered her hand next to Jean’s, touching it slightly… a moment passed, before Jean sighed, intertwining their fingers.

Armin couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips.

A few seats next to them sat Reiner, his mom by his side, passionately whispering something in his ear. Reiner looked so out of it. 

When Reiner noticed Armin’s eyes, he smiled, paying him a small wave, with a gesture to his ring finger.

Ah

His mother’s whispers were nothing but pestering him about when he’ll get married. Armin laughed, shaking his head.

Armin’s eyes halted on the first seat at the far right, where his childhood friend sat, clad in a crimson red dress, her hair touching her shoulder, a dust of make up adorning her face. Mikasa smiled at Armin, a proud smile. The proud-mom-smile she wore whenever he did anything she was proud of.

She was proud of everything he did, every single thing he did since they were only nine.

He waved at her, she nodded in response.

He could never forget Mikasa’s reaction when he told her he would propose to Annie.

The tears, the hugs.

Happiness overflowed out of her.

But soon enough, they both crumbled on the floor, hugging each other, sobbing, lamenting whispers escaping them. Eren’s name slipped every now and then.

Armin swallowed, looking at his feet. The bitter sweet roughness of that night would remain in his mind for as long as he lived.

Someone joined the seat beside Mikasa.

It was Hitch.

Gorgeous.

Armin thought. She did look so pretty, her hair slightly curled, in an off the shoulder navy dress that overflowed in a soft skirt.

She waved at him, he smiled and nodded.

Then she winked, raising her thumbs.

Armin furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t understand, but nodded anyway.

Connie was having enough of Armin’s ignoring game; he cleared his throat and said: “Hey, by the way, how did you ask Mr. Leonhart for his blessings?”

“Oh, uh, well…” Armin started, flashbacks of that day at the forefront of his mind.

Even though they had been engaged for over a year, Armin still remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

Well…

“Well, he said that if I don’t treat Annie well, he will take my life with his own hands,” Armin said, shrugging his shoulders, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it was easier than I thought, if I’m being honest with you.” 

“Oh God.”

“No it’s not that shocking, besides, he supported me and Annie from the beginning,” Armin replied.

“I can’t believe it,” Connie’s eyes fixated on a spot behind Armin.

“Well, I don’t know what you exactly think of Mr. Leonhart, but-”

Connie clicked his tongue, pointing behind Armin.

Armin turned around and-

It was her.

“Annie…” he whispered.

Standing there, arms tangled by her father's.

A simple dress, a peasant dress; puffy sleeves with ruffled edges that beautified her updo hair. Pastel pink contouring the dress’s folds, adding a variant of flowery accents to it. A tight brown bodice hugged her waist, making the flowy skirt finely pleated into cascading silky waves. Something about it reminded Armin of a field of pink flowers in a spring afternoon.

The slight blush on her cheeks, her bangs framing her face, boldening her beauty.

The memory of gazing at a crystal in a cold basement from a few years ago struck Armin.

But the cold was replaced by warmth.

A warmth that traveled from Armin's toes to the tip of his nose, a feeling he never experienced before. He wanted to scream, jump in his spot, like a toddler in a candy store, but he also wanted to hug himself, cage himself in a corner, and cry.

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted.

The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided.

For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

The warmth reached Armin's eyes, his sight blurring.

His lungs caught fire, and despite feeling suddenly hot, his hands were freezing cold.

A thousand thoughts swarmed his mind in the short period of Annie walking up to him. It took approximately a minute, perhaps two, but for Armin, it felt like eternity. A labyrinthine he was very willingly getting lost in.

When she reached him, at the altar, not a single breath left him. His sight was blurry and eyes burning. His whole body shook with every sob he tried to suppress.

Someone held his hand, Armin looked down, and through his blurry eyes, he saw Mr. Leonhart’s gripping his hand, his hold a bit tight.

Mr. Leonhart took Armin’s hand, raising it. In his other hand, he held his daughter’s hand.

He guided Annie’s hand to Armin’s, placing them on each other, before clasping them in his strong grasp, holding them for a while. He looked at Annie, nodded at her with a smile, before he turned his gaze to Armin.

Mr. Leonhart leaned towards Armin, whispering in his ear: “I would kill you.”

Armin laughed, though his mouth opened but no voice came out.

Mr. Leonhart descended, walking to his seat, dabbing at his eyes.

At that moment, Armin’s world muted into a deafening, incomprehensible line. He took Annie’s hands in his. His eyes went up, from their intertwined hands, up to her collarbone; she wore a simple necklace, a small, silver circular metal hanging from it.

To anyone who wasn’t familiar with Annie, it looked like a normal necklace. 

But it wasn’t.

It was her ring.

Her infamous ring.

Armin’s wandering eyes reached Annie’s.

Blue meeting blue.

And that was the last trigger.

Sobs escaped Armin’s lips. He cried, tears flowing and cascading on his cheeks. He didn’t want to cry, it made his eyesight blurry and he wanted to see Annie clearly. He brought his elbow to his eyes, wiping his tears, only for new ones to flood.

He tried to stop them, gritting his teeth, biting at the inside of his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut.

He couldn’t, all his attempts leading to more sobs and tears.

Warm hands on his face made him flutter his eyes open. With a handkerchief, Annie softly dabbed at his cheeks, a smile small on her lips. Her eyes were glistening as well.

Armin focused on her eyes, and slowly, took deep breaths.

Sobs subsided, and tears stopped streaming down his face, clearing his vision.

She cupped his face in her hands, and brought him down, capturing his lips on her own, a quick kiss, lingering for a bit. Armin kissed her back, closing his eyes briefly, before she pulled away. She pulled far enough to look into his eyes, but close enough to feel his breath on her face.

“Ahem ahem.”

Both almost jumped at the sound, turning their heads. The priest stood there, a smile on his lips.

Only then did Armin and Annie realize that the small crowd was giggling.

“You jumped off a few steps there,” the priest said, nudging his head towards them, eliciting extra chuckles from the crowd.

Armin pressed his lips, looking at Annie. She was already looking at him, her lips pressed as well. They exploded in a fit of laughter, before they calmed down, and the ceremony went on.

From the priest’s concise sentences, Armin presumed that the priest knew that Annie and him couldn’t wait to get married.

Rings slipped in their fingers, in their left hands, so smoothly, as if they were always meant to be.

Armin’s heart beating faster as they tiptoed closer to the ending of the wedding.

“And now,” the priest announced, taking a step back, “you, Armin Arlert, may now kiss the bride!”

They held each other's eyes, before Armin wrapped his arm around Annie’s waist, pulling her closer to him, and kissed her.

They kissed many, many times before.

But that kiss felt different.

Their first kiss as husband and wife.

Armin pressed his lips against Annie’s, feeling her heartbeat against his own wild one.

Cheers and claps erupted from the crowd, quiet sobs mixing with them.

They pulled apart, fighting against the magnetic force drawing them together.

Armin held Annie’s hands in his, running his finger on the ring, glistening in the light.

Annie was his, and he was hers.

“My husband,” she whispered, her voice an inch from breaking into tears.

An involuntary smile pulled at Armin’s lips, before he leaned towards Annie, resting his forehead on hers: “My wife.”

She shook her head, rubbing their foreheads together.

“My wife,” he said again, “my wife,” his voice getting louder, before he turned to the crowd, lifting up their intertwined hands victoriously in the air, screaming out: “my wife!!” 

Laughs and more claps burst, guests standing up in the process.

As the bride took the groom’s arm, the newly married couple made their way, taking a new step in their lives, together, forever and ever. 

.

.

first time writing a wedding, well, that was a wild ride hahahaa

I tried to write the feelings I got when I first saw Bella's fanart, I hope I got them right! this was a sudden one shot that I'm so glad I gave a shot and wrote, it was a very blessing experience thank you so much for reading!! If you guys liked this, I might write a second chapter but from Annie’s pov, sooo tell me what u think uwu aaand of course, any feedback is much appreciated!!