#try not to say mother challenge happily failed

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

OHH my GOD new Chappell Roan camp country song about lesbian sex LIVE on SNL???? 'Only a woman knows how to treat a woman right'??? Thank you Jesus for making me a lesbian ohhh lord i am LIVING!!!!

[taevjim]

Marrying the Viscount (m)

18+

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

𝓢𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓽𝓸: Romancing the Viscount (m)

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Viscount! Jungkook x Viscountess! female reader

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: romance, angst (maybe?), smut

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: You had finally found your place in society, not only succeeding from the challenge of being asked for your hand, but from none other than a Viscount. In your mind, you were ready for a husband the moment you were let out into society, but now that you had the very thing you've dreamed of since you were a girl, right at your fingertips, you weren't sure if you knew where you stood in life at the moment. Would you live happily ever after, or would the pressure of being a Viscountess be too much for you to handle?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It had been a full week since Jungkook had asked for your hand in marriage and you were ecstatic, to say the least. Although you were probably one of the happiest women of the ton, not only securing a man, but a Viscount, you still couldn't help the way your eyes wandered as you walked through the street. You were constantly wondering what people were saying of you, wondering if you could live up to the status of Jungkook, if you could get used to all eyes being on you at all times.

Of course you've confronted Jungkook with your troublesome thoughts and you admired the way he never failed at coaxing you with kind words, and reminding you of your worth. You had to admit, his words managed to put you at ease but it never lasted too long before you were back to overthinking, allowing your thoughts to consume your mind, almost taunting you every second of the day. It was torture.

The thoughts in your head tormented you relentlessly and with Jungkook trying his hardest to not only be the Viscount everyone so loved and adored, you didn't want to put the pressure of your doubts onto his shoulders as it might become too much for him to handle.

You've seemingly been accepted with open arms by Jungkook's absolute lovely family. The excitement on their faces warmed your heart once he announced your unexpected engagement before them, only minutes after the two of you devilishly committed such sin in his carriage the night of the first season's ball. You've spent so much time in your life feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what you could've been doing wrong, all the while the Viscount had his eyes set on you all along.

The success you've longed for since you were a child was right before your eyes, right at the edge of your fingertips, yet it was still a bit difficult to accept the reality before you. To become wed to the Viscount, it meant more responsibilities piled onto your shoulders. Not only the responsibilities of being Jungkook's wife, but the responsibilities of becoming the Viscountess that this wedding would embark upon you.

In no way were you doubting the marriage, or doubting Jungkook. You love Jungkook with the entirety of your heart and you were practically itching for the wedding to get here so you could call him your husband. However, the doubt you had in yourself was beginning to weigh you down and the fear of drowning becoming a challenge you were afraid to face.

You currently sat at Jungkook's desk as you write in your journal, spilling your emotions out onto the pages as if they could listen to you and speak back. Writing had become a small part of your life in the past week, you deciding it would be best for you to write your thoughts down, instead of bombarding Jungkook with the trouble.

Glancing up at the clock, you sigh as you realize he still wasn't home. He had gone out for a bit of a hunting trip with the other Lords, all while his mother decided to take his two sisters shopping. She invited you to come along with them, which you politely declined, telling her you had some work to catch up on. In truth, you've been a bit skittish to step foot out in public without Jungkook by your side. He made you feel protected and secure with his presence, a presence you were undoubtedly addicted to.

Perhaps you were being a bit selfish choosing to lock yourself in his chambers as you cry to yourself on the pages of a journal. You had everything you've ever wanted, even more so than what you originally expected, and it seemed as though you still weren't happy. You've never really been faced with these type of hardships in your life, not while there was love involved, at-least.

You close your journal, deciding you were tired of pitying yourself for the day, and you stand to head out into town. You knew Jungkook's mother was probably at the modiste with her two daughters, for their debuts were coming up very soon and she needed to get them prepared for the time to come. You figured you would meet them there, suddenly feeling a little foolish for declining the invite of your presence.

The walk to the modiste was very quick, since it wasn't but only a block down the street. Besides, the weather was exceptionally nice today so you didn't mind and you needed the fresh air anyway.

"Oh my dear y/n, I'm so pleased to see you!" Jungkook's mother pleasantly greets you as you walk into the stop, wasting no time to rush over and land a kiss on your cheek.

You smile and slightly bow before following her over into the fitting room where her oldest daughter, Liliana, stood before the mirror. She was wearing an exceptionally elegant gown, a contagious smile on her face as she scanned over the fabric.

"It's beautiful," you compliment as you enter, earning an appreciative smile in return.

"Please, please come sit." Jungkook's mother rushes you over and sits you down on the sofa next to her, "Anna is up next. I think you'll absolutely love what she picked."

Jungkook's mother was always such a pleasure to be around. Although you've only known her a short time, you've never seen her with a sour face. You could tell she completely adored her children and raised them to the best of her ability. You felt complete admiration towards the woman as you watched the way she interacted with the two girls. They were incredibly lucky to have such a caring mother.

"Ohhh that is very pretty," you gush as Anna steps up onto the platform, giving a slight twirl to show off the gorgeous piece of clothing. She claps her hands in excitement, obviously very pleased with Madam Claire's work. She was a very talented modiste, after all.

Your future mother-in-law turns to you, capturing your hands into her own all while flashing you a beautiful smile, "I also have a surprise for you, my dear." Your eyebrows raise slightly at her confession and you turn to see Claire carrying a breathtaking burgundy colored gown into the room.

The color was so pleasing to the eye, making it difficult for you to move your gaze elsewhere. The bodice was a lacey material with a few crystals scattered about the surface, paired with mesh fabric sleeves that hung off the shoulders, and a slimming cotton skirt that cascaded down to the floor. For a moment you were speechless, completely taken off guard that Jungkook's mother would make such a kind gesture to have a gown made for you.

You turn to her, shock and appreciation written across your face. "Mrs. Jeon, this is for me?" you ask.

She lets out a small laugh and carefully reaches over to move a piece of hair from your face. "You are my future daughter-in-law," she states, "You mean so much to my son which means you mean a lot to me as well and you make him very happy. I wanted to show you some appreciation for being so wonderful."

Her words almost make you tear up and then you begin to feel awful for not coming along when she invited you out this morning. You were too busy moping about your, now, perfect life. In that very moment, you decided it was time for you to stop thinking of all the negatives regarding your future wedding, and start appreciating the positives.

"You are such an amazing woman, Ms. Jeon. Thank you." You slightly squeeze her hands that were still resting in your own and she quickly pats your shoulder, urging for you to stand.

"What are you waiting for?" she asks, "I want to see you try it on."

You didn't need to be told twice. You quickly spring to your feet and step up onto the platform, allowing Claire to help you change into the dress.

The dress was already stunning on it's own, but once you saw it on yourself, you couldn't believe a piece of clothing could make you feel and look so desirable. It fit like a glove and your heart warmed once again when you realized how thoughtful it was for Jungkook's mother to make sure she got your measurements perfectly without you noticing.

"Breathtaking," she claps her hands enthusiastically, clearly proud of herself for gifting you such a perfect gown.

"Now," she announces, standing to her feet, "We should start getting ready for tonight's ball."

Once the four of you exit the modiste and start the short walk back to the Jeon house, you begin making small conversation with Mrs. Jeon.

"Were you ever nervous?" you question, "About becoming Viscountess, I mean."

The corners of her lips upturn in the slightest way at your question, almost as if she was expecting for the two of you to speak about the subject at some point. She lets out a small sigh and hooks her arm through yours as you stroll.

"Of course I was nervous," she starts, "I didn't come from a wealthy family and it was quite difficult for me to make it into society. It took four seasons before I married and I was undoubtedly very discouraged."

Your eyes slightly widen at her statement. She was admittedly a gorgeous woman, probably more so in her younger years, so the thought of her having such trouble finding a husband was quite hard for you to believe.

"I can tell you're nervous," she continues, "But I don't want you to allow those feelings to overcome you too terribly. You will become an astounding Viscountess."

You feel reassured at her words, but you would be lying if you said the statement completely washed all of your worries away. However, you didn't feel alone. Learning that Mrs. Jeon struggled in society just like you have, comforted you in a way. It may have taken her four seasons to find a husband, but she married a Viscount and not only became an amazing Viscountess, but an extraordinary mother and woman.

"What troubles you?" she asks as she notices you staring off into the distance. You didn't want to dump all of your feelings onto her at once, but you realized she was the only one you were close to that understood the challenges that you were facing.

"I'm afraid," you admit, "I feel as though I've been looked down upon for so much of my life and I don't want to mess up. Truthfully, I don't know what I am doing."

You notice as the two of you arrive in front of the house and watch as Liliana and Anna rush inside, likely going to greet their brother, who should be home by now. You loiter behind with Mrs. Jeon and follow to sit beside her at a bench in front of the square.

"Honey, it's okay to not know what you are doing. How can anyone expect you to? Everything is new to you and I understand how overwhelming you must be feeling with your current situation. Jungkook will never fail you, nor will I. Don't be afraid to come and talk to one of us when it begins to feel too much, otherwise you'll suffocate from your own feelings." She caresses the back of your head as she speaks, and her words cause a wave of comfort to crash over your body.

"You're right," you admit. You smile at the woman before you, slightly leaning in closer to her touch. Having a mother figure in your life was proving to be very solacing, as you were ripped from that opportunity at a very young age.

"You know, when I married Jungkook's father, I had thoughts of leaving him." Her confession vaguely shocks you, not being prepared for those words to leave her lips. She slightly chuckles at your reaction, but continues speaking.

"I never thought I was good enough to be blessed with such a nobleman, much less to become a Viscountess. I struggled greatly in the beginning and I was ashamed to feel such a way, but I realized he needed me just as much as I needed him and I realized that he chose me for a reason. He saw things in me that I failed to see in myself and with his partnership and his love, I was able to become the woman that I currently am." Her touching words bring a tear to your eye and being the loving, yet caring woman she is, she reaches over to wipe it away before it falls.

"My son chose you for a reason," she says, "And I wholeheartedly trust his judgement that he has made an exceptional choice. It's okay to feel the things that you do, but I hope you can learn to put those feelings at bay before they consume your entire being."

You don't respond, partly because you don't really know what to say, but also because you can't trust that you can utter a single word without bursting to tears into her arms. She was probably the strongest woman you've met thus far and you wanted to make her proud.

"I hope you realize how much this talk truly means to me." Your words come out in a whisper, and once again she smiles at you with such adoration behind her eyes.

"I see the woman that you are and I know for certain you will make this family proud. You need not worry for how people will look at you, or what some may say as you walk by. You have a Viscount and not many can say that. You also have a pure soul and an impenetrable character. Promise me that you will come to me if you ever need anything." Her eyes sparkle so subtly as she utters such touching words, proving to you she truly meant what she was telling you.

You nod at her request and she plants a tender kiss upon your cheek before gently pulling you to stand from the bench. "Now let's go find my son and see what he's been up to."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next couple days pass by in a blur, for all you could think about was your wedding. It was only three days away and although you were still quite nervous, the happiness you felt in your heart outweighed all the negative feelings you've had the past week or so.

Jungkook knew how you were feeling and he couldn't blame you for the emotions you've dealt with. He knew it was hard for you and he did an exceptional job at helping you any way he could, in fact, the two of you never really stayed home too much. Every day, almost the same time on the dot, you watched his carriage pull up in front of your home, ready to take you on whatever adventure had called on your names.

He had taken you to a number of places , whether it be out of town to some of the most popular theaters in neighboring cities, or a simple walk to the park so the two of you can read together and share your ideas on what lies in the next chapters to come. You had come to the conclusion a long time ago that he was a great man, but knowing him the way you did now made you fall more in love as the days pass.

You sit in the bay window of your home, a book in hand as you read the passages in front of you, occasionally giggling at something ridiculous one of the fictional characters said. You had plans to get a head start, as it was a book Jungkook had picked for both of you to read; you of course wanting to get further into the story before he did. It became almost a challenge between the two of you to see how many chapters the other could read before your next outing. It was a little childish, really.

The sounds of horses approaching draws your attention away from the pages and you look down to see Jungkook hop out of the carriage, immediately focusing his gaze upon you. A smile graces your lips and you hop up with an urgency, practically running downstairs so you could greet your fiancé.

Dana shakes her head, a playful smile across her face as she witnesses the pure puppy love you and the Viscount had shared. When you had broken the news to her that you were to be married, she was over the moon for you, the purest form of joy took over her as she had embraced you in a loving hug.

"I knew it would be your season. All that worrying you did for no reason," she had whispered to you that night, pulling you to sit with her so you could tell her all about it. You didn't spare the details either, trusting that you could tell Dana all about the time you had shared with the Viscount and not have to worry of her judging you.

"Please don't slip!" she calls after you as you dart down the stairs.

You don't waste a single second as you approach the front door and swing it open to reveal the most handsome man before you, the man you would soon get to call your husband.

His face lights up as he sees you and he pulls you into a comforting embrace, planting his pillowy soft lips upon yours in a quick kiss. "Are you ready?" he asks as he pulls away and scans your attire from head to toe.

Dana had styled your hair in a casual but classy updo, making sure to allow a few hairs to fall from the sides so they could frame your face in the most appealing manner. Your body was also adorned in a pretty pale green dress, one of your favorites of your collection as you adored the way it fit your body so snug, yet still allowing you great comfort.

Jungkook struggled to take his eyes off you, almost not believing that he finally had you after years of yearning for the woman that you are. He almost groaned at the way you looked up at him through your beautifully dark lashes, the look in your eyes almost challenging him to pounce on you right then and there. It was becoming much harder for him to control himself around you these days and most of his thoughts were consumed with the day you'll finally be married, so that he didn't have to hold himself back during such circumstances.

You say a quick farewell to Dana and hook your arm through Jungkook's so he can lead you towards his carriage. The two of you had made a quick trip back to his house, where he decides the plans for today would consist of a horse ride to the fields and a picnic.

You were practically buzzing with excitement, not having been able to ride in quite some time. In truth, you had been practically itching to get out into fresh air and enjoy the beautiful nature of the season. It warmed your heart to know how thoughtful Jungkook was to remember all the things you were interested in, doing everything he could to see your smile. It also felt nice to know you would be having some much needed alone time with the man, as the two of you hadn't had much luck for such an opportunity the last couple days.

The weather was perfect, the sky a captivating color of blue, and the breeze so subtle that your skin yearned for more of the feeling. You and Jungkook were sat under a tree, occasionally feeding each other the various fruits and sandwiches he had packed for the two of you.

You had giggled at a thought that suddenly ran across your mind and you pick up a singular grape, slightly scooting back a couple inches. "Open," you playfully demand.

He just chuckles at your obvious giddiness and opens his mouth, watching as you ready yourself to make the shot. You accidentally overthrow the small fruit, causing it to bounce off of his nose and land in the grass. Within seconds, you've fallen over onto your side, a fit of giggles escaping from your belly.

"Oh you think it's funny?" he questions, playfully offended that you would laugh about pelting him in the face with a fruit.

He rises to his knees and scoots closer to you to begin attacking your sides with his fingers, attracting more high-pitched giggles from your body. He begins to chuckle himself, watching as you squirm under his touch, only stopping when he deems his punishment was enough. You rise back into a sitting position, slightly breathing heavily as you make the conscious decision to pick up another grape and throw it at him.

This time it bounces off his forehead and you quickly stand to your feet and take off across the field, knowing he was most likely right behind you, chasing you down.

"Get back here, you little brat!" You hear him right behind you and you let out a squeal, attempting to pick your feet up faster.

"Nooo! You stay away!" You squeal again, refusing to look behind you because you knew he was right on your heels.

Before you know it, you feel his grip on your wrist and your foot slightly catches the bottom of your dress, causing the two of you to tumble into the grass. You're back to giggling furiously as his fingers attack your midsection once again, punishing you for your childish actions.

"This is what you wanted huh? You wanted me to punish you, didn't you?" he teases, his fingers in your sides not letting up, causing numerous high-pitched squeals to launch from your throat.

"Okay okay I'm sorry!" you accept defeat and he stops torturing you, not yet moving from his position atop of your figure.

You lay there under his weight, breathing as if you've just run a marathon and you look up at him. The playful gleam in his eyes is gone and replaced with a look of desire as he analyzes your features. Half of your hair has made it's way out of the pins that were meant to hold it together, and the strands lay displayed across the grass around your head. Your cheeks a deep pink, from all of the running and laughing you've done. Your lips were rid of the gloss you once wore from the many kisses Jungkook has stolen from you throughout your picnic date.

His eyes jump back and forth between your own, soon slowly making their way down to your chest. It rose and fell, as you lay out of breath, and he can't help but notice the way the tops of your breasts just barely spilled over the edge of your bodice. You were a sight for sore eyes and he could look at you for hours, never becoming bored.

He can't resist the urge to kiss you, so he leans down to mold his mouth onto your own. He can taste the strawberries you've consumed only moments prior, urging him to kiss you deeper as he chases more of the taste on your tongue. Immediately, you can feel pure heat flood down to your core, a whimper softly rolling off of your tongue and onto his own. He could feel his control slowly beginning to slip from his grasp, which causes him to slowly pull away from you before the thought of taking you right here in the field consumes him.

You let out a low whine, slightly disappointed that he was no longer touching you the way you craved. He reluctantly stands to his feet and outstretches a rather large hand into your direction, aiding you to stand on your own feet as well. The silence between the two of you was entirely too loud and the tension was a thick presence in the contrasting light breeze that rolled through the air.

Once you both make your way back over to the tree, the two of you begin to pack up your belongings. You catch sight of a couple grapes scattered across the grass and you can't stop the giggle that releases from the confinements of your throat. He lets out a chuckle of his own and shakes his head.

"You are going to be the death of me, y/n." The sound of your name rolling off of his tongue causes a blush to rise to your cheeks. He takes a step closer to you, carefully removing a leaf that had been stuck in your hair before he shoves it in your face to tickle the tip of your nose. You giggle at his actions and swat his hand away.

"Well you better get ready, Mr. Viscount because soon you will be stuck with me for the rest of your life," you teasingly stick your tongue at him and he quickly scoops you up into his arms, the sound of your giggles blessing his ears once again.

With a quick spin and loving kiss pressed to your lips, he sets you atop of the horse and pats your thigh over the material of your dress.

"I sure hope so," he says, a smile stretched across his pretty face, "I wouldn't ever dream of having it any other way."

He grabs your hand and raises it to his lips to place a soft kiss upon your skin before retreating to hop up onto his own horse so the two of you can make the short journey back to Jeon house.

As you ride back, taking in the beautiful flowers that stretch across the field and watch as the rabbits hop around the plush, green grass, you turn to see Jungkook's eyes already upon you. In that moment, you realize you've never been more happy and you couldn't wait for what the future had in store for you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The day of your wedding was upon you and you were proud to say you didn't have an ounce of nervousness in your body. All of the negative feelings you once harbored inside of you had seemed to vanish, as if they were never there to begin with. The only feeling you had now was one of excitement. You had been dreaming of this day for years since you were just a girl, and now it was finally here, almost whispering into your ear that you deserved this. You deserved to be successful and marry a high ranking nobleman who accepts you as you are, not wishing to change a thing about you.

You were in love, and although just two weeks ago you had only spoken to the Viscount for the first time ever, you wouldn't dare change a single thing about the day you met. You may not have spoken to each other until that day but the two of you longed for each other in silence for years prior, making this very moment even more sweet and victorious for you both.

You stood in the fitting room of the modiste, just staring at yourself for only a few moments which felt like a lifetime. You just couldn't believe the sight before you. The sight before you being the very reflection of yourself, sporting your dream wedding gown, realizing that there was no possible way it could've ever looked more perfect.

Your dress was quite poofy compared to the style you usually wore and the detail that danced down the fabric of your skirt was certainly difficult to look away from, the train becoming your favorite part of the dress as it stretched out a couple feet behind you. You went with quite wide mesh sleeves that hung off the shoulder, which left plenty of room between your skin and the material. The bodice was a similar material of the skirt with even more detail and crystals that were embedded to the fabric.

Claire and Jungkook's mother were both staring at you in awe as they stood to the side and locked hands with each other, seemingly proud of the sight before them. You really didn't know what to say, your words stuck in the pit of your gut, not able to make their way up to the barrier of your lips.

"This dress," Mrs. Jeon breathes out, "It was absolutely made for you, darling."

You shoot an appreciative smile in her direction, trying your very hardest not to start crying. You didn't want to ruin your makeup before you were able to get married.

"It's everything I've ever dreamed of wearing on my wedding day," you finally find the words to speak. You then turn to Claire and clutch your hands to your chest, "You have made a dream come true for me. I don't know how I could possibly thank you enough."

She comes over to stand next to you, a prideful smile stretched across her glossy lips. "How about you thank me by marrying that man and becoming the Viscountess that you were born to be."

You quickly embrace her in a hug and place a heavy kiss upon her cheek before pulling away.

"Oh!" she exclaims, "One more thing."

She suddenly disappears around the corner before emerging once more with a veil held between her fingers.

"If you are to be married, we certainly can't forget this," she says before sliding the clip into your hair and positioning the material in it's rightful place. She then circles around to stand in front of you, carefully pulling two strands of your hair from behind your shoulders to place over each side of your chest.

"Perfect."

Now you really looked like a bride and if you had to admit, this was a reality you could see yourself getting used to rather quickly.

Once you've deemed yourself ready, you step off of the platform and stand before Mrs. Jeon. "I would especially like to thank you," you start, "For being there for not only myself, but your son as well. I can tell that he adores you with every fiber in his body and i wholeheartedly trust his judgement that he's made an exceptional choice with making you my mother-in-law."

You utter the same words as she spoke to you that day outside of her home. Her heart melts at the realization and she pulls you into a comforting hug. "Thank you, dearest, for showing me another reason why I'm thankful to not have let my emotions get the best of me all those years ago."

She pulls away slightly, her hands now resting on your shoulders as she tenderly kisses your cheek. "Now," she announces, "I believe we have a wedding to get to."

The three of you quickly exit the shop, Claire deciding to close down for the day so she can be there for your special moment, and you all hop into the carriage that awaits for you outside.

The whole way to the church, the two women are messing with the fabric of your dress, moving a few pieces there and a few pieces here. You could tell they wanted this day to be just as perfect as you did and you couldn't have been more thankful.

As you arrive, you could feel your nerves kicking into overdrive, the urge to fidget with your fingers getting the best of you. Your feelings go unnoticed by Mrs. Jeon and she reaches over to rest a warm hand atop of yours, stopping your nervous tendencies.

"Everything will be okay," she whispers, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Her words manage to sooth you and you take a deep breath, nodding your head. Her and Claire both help you out of the carriage, immediately making sure everything was in place before they gave the signal that you were ready.

Since you had no male relatives, you had made a request upon your engagement to have Jungkook's mother walk you down the isle. Of course she accepted, had feeling honored that you would assign her with such a special task. You had become so close to her now that you really couldn't picture it being anyone else to hand you off to her son.

Claire sneakily makes her way inside the church before you so she can get situated before the doors were to be opened.

Mrs. Jeon holds her arm out to you, to which you don't hesitate to take and hook your fingers into the crease of her elbow. She sends you yet another encouraging smile and you decide that you are ready.

The doors are suddenly opened for you and you remind yourself to breathe before the two of you begin your walk inside of the church. Any conversation that was had between your guests quickly silenced as you were revealed. The church was packed to the brim as no one wanted to miss the event of the Viscount becoming married and you quickly realized that all the looks of admiration were no longer aimed towards him, but towards you.

You shut your eyes for a quick moment, trying to stop them from nervously wandering, and as you open them again you are met with the site of your lovely Viscount standing at the alter. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, his graze not straying for a second, taking in all the glory of his future Viscountess.

As always, his tight-waisted skirt coat fit his figure to perfection and you had to prevent the whine that threatened to spill from your lips at the sight of him. You couldn't believe in mere moments you were to be his wife, the thought almost driving you insane.

You could feel everyone's eyes glued to you, impossible for anyone to look away. You looked like you had blossomed straight out of a fairytale from a storybook and you felt pride swell in your chest knowing that you had finally captured the eyes of the ton.

As you get to the end of the stretch, Mrs. Jeon places a soft kiss upon your cheek and hands you off to Jungkook, who reaches out to you immediately. You're finally standing face to face with him, his eyes wildly move across your face, completely starstruck at the beauty that stood before him. He's always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you in this moment was one he knew he surely would never forget as long as he lives.

The two of you can't take your eyes off of each other through the entirety of the service. It was as if the two of you were speaking a thousand words to one another all while your lips didn't move an inch. These were the moments you lived for. The moments where you could tell exactly what he was thinking, a single word not have been spoken.

You could feel his thumbs carefully tracing the smooth skin of the top of your hands, a touch so small that still managed to ignite a fire inside of you.

Soon, the words "You may kiss your bride." reaches your ears and Jungkook wastes no time pulling you in and locking his lips to yours in urgency. Everyone in the church cheers, standing to clap for you. The excitement that roars between the four walls of the church eggs you on to cup Jungkook's face, keeping his lips on yours for just a few moments more.

Finally, the two of you turn to the crowd and you can't help but notice the pure joy on everyone's faces as they now lay their eyes upon their Viscount and Viscountess.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Immediately after your wedding, Jungkook had his carriage ready to take the two of you to Italy for your honeymoon. You were thoroughly shocked, having wanted to go to Italy for so long, now you get to share the experience with your husband.

The journey was exceptionally long, but as you arrived in the streets of Venice, you couldn't take your eyes from the breathtakingly structured buildings scattered throughout the city.

Jungkook sits back in his seat, admiring how happy you looked. He thought it was adorable the way you pointed at something in passing with such excitement, urging him to look at what your sights had fallen upon. Venice was a gorgeous city undoubtedly, but as his eyes lingered over you, he couldn't imagine anything that was more gorgeous.

You've arrived at the hostel the two of you would be staying in and you stared up at the building in awe as you stepped out of the carriage. The weather felt much cooler against your skin and you shivered in delight, leaning your head back to breathe in the Italian air.

You both quickly make your way inside, Jungkook carrying both of your suitcases in either hand. He had refused to allow you to carry your own, so you trail behind him as you ascend up the staircase to the floor where your room would be.

The room was very spacious, already knowing that Jungkook most likely booked one of the best rooms they had. A king sized canopy bed sat to the left of the room against the wall, the bedposts extending so high, they almost reached the ceiling. A quite large bookshelf sat to the right of the room and your eyes trail up, taking in the rows and rows of books all the way up to the ceiling. There were also two chairs that sat on either side of the bookshelf and a lamp positioned in the middle, allowing a comforting setting to be able to sit and read a book. Lastly, an elegant patterned sofa sat against the wall straight ahead, next to a cherrywood desk.

The picture frames that covered the walls were photos that were taken of the city, each just as breathtaking as the other. You had never traveled as long as you've been alive, so you felt like a princess in such a wonderful location of the world. You were beyond grateful.

You don't notice that Jungkook had already set your things down, as you were too busy gawking at the beauty that was your shared bedroom for the week. Jungkook has traveled more times than he could count, so he was pretty accustomed to Italy by this point. He was more interested in looking at you, watching the way you made your way around the room, your eyes floating around the walls where different pictures of the city hung.

He slowly walks over to you, sliding his arms around your waist from behind. Your attention was no longer on the photos as you become focused on his touch. You close your eyes as he gently moves your hair from your shoulder, leaning down to press his warm lips against your skin. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you bask in the feeling that was him.

His hands grip your hips, turning you around so that you now faced him. You had to look up at him due to the height difference and your arms take their place around his shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his eyes not once leaving yours.

You feel your cheeks get hot at his compliment and he wastes no time, bringing a hand to rest on your neck before he leans down to capture your lips into a kiss. His kisses were always so soft, so warm, and so addicting. You would never get tired of the feeling his kisses brought upon your being.

He seemingly becomes desperate, for the taste of you always drives him mad. He's tried so hard not to lose control around you, wanting to wait until you were wed before he does the things he's been yearning to do. Now that he had you, just the two of you alone, he couldn't hold back anymore.

A squeal of surprise leaves you as he lifts you into his arms, walking over to lie you down on the edge of the bed. You look up at him through your lashes and he groans at the sight. Out of everything that he desired about you, your eyes were the one thing that could bring him to his knees with just one glance.

His eyes trace over your form as you lay before him. He takes you in as if this were the last time he would ever see you and he finds it incredibly difficult to draw his gaze away. He quickly notices the way your dress pools around the middle of your thighs, your legs slightly spread to accommodate his form which stood between them.

A slight gasp escapes your lips as he carefully traces a finger across the skin of your thigh and he watches with hunger how his touch leaves goosebumps in it's path. You were just as crazy for him as he was for you and somehow, that thought drove him even more insane.

"Please," you whisper, begging, "Please touch me. I need you."

His eyes snap back up to your face and you shudder at the pure want that reflects from his irises.

Wasting no more time, he leans down into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses across your flesh until he reaches the shell of your ear, whispering oh so slowly, "I'm going to show you how much I love you, my pretty Viscountess."

His words leave you utterly desperate and you already knew your undergarments were rightfully ruined. You shudder once again at the feeling of his hand disappearing underneath your dress, immediately touching you where you needed him most. He smirks into your neck at the sounds that fall from your mouth out of your control, and the way you grip the back of his neck hopelessly gives him the permission he needs to sink two of his deliciously thick fingers into your core.

"Oh god," you breathe out, your back slightly arching off of the sheets.

"Relax for me, my love." You listen to his gentle words and allow your legs to fall open further, giving him more access to your body. He slowly drags his fingers against your inner walls, praising you for your obedience, "Such a good girl."

Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut momentarily as he reaches even deeper inside of you, drawing the most beautiful sounds from your chest.

He pulls away reluctantly, not ignoring the whine that you make as he does so. He carefully pulls you into a seated position and reaches behind you to unclasp the back of your dress. Your eyes stay on him, not faltering for even a moment as he pulls the material from your body, leaving you in your corset, your undergarments, and your stockings.

A growl is stuck in his throat, threatening to be released as his eyes take you in, having yet to have seen you in this way. As if a flip is switched inside of him, he rushes forward to capture your lips in a heated kiss. He doesn't miss the way your tongue darts from your lips and past his own, relishing in the warmness that his mouth provides you. His hands begin to make quick work of untying the back of your corset, loosening it just enough for him to slide it down your body.

The sight of your breasts almost make him choke. He'd never seen anything more beautiful. They looked so soft and smooth, he was dying to just touch them.

He gives into his thoughts and reaches forward, enveloping both of your breasts into his large hands and he groans at the way your soft, supple flesh felt beneath his fingers. His fingers gently pinch one of your pink nipples, causing your body to jerk so slightly. He copies his actions to your other nipple. smirking when he gets the same reaction from you twice.

Momentarily, he moves his attention down to your undergarments and wastes no time in sliding them off your legs. He decides to leave your stockings on, quite enjoying the way they looked on you.

You take notice of the fact that you were fully naked beneath him, yet he stood fully clothed. You sit up slightly, running your hands up and over the fabric of his coat until you reach the top button, popping it open with ease. He looks down at you as you unbutton the rest, never taking your eyes off of his, and sliding his coat from his shoulders.

Your fingers slide down to the waistband of his pants and you begin to pull the cotton fabric of his shirt from it's confines, then sliding it up his chest. He moderately lifts his arms so you could pull his shirt from his body completely, your eyes falling to his abdomen. You drink in the creamy tone of his skin and his muscles that have been hidden from your eyes all this time.

He takes it upon himself to practically rip the buttons to his pants open, pushing them down his legs in a rush, his underwear soon accepting the same fate. You can't help the way your eyes trail down his body and landing on the hardness that has been kept at bay underneath the fabric of his breeches.

Your mouth begins to water at the sight, not able to stop yourself from reaching forward and taking him into your hand. You moan at how heavy it feels, wanting nothing more than to pleasure him the way he had done for you.

At the feeling of you beginning to run your hand down his length, he abruptly stops you.

"As much as I'd love to feel your cute little hands pleasuring me, I need you." The look in his eyes are pleading you and you bite your lip at the sight. What a man, you think to yourself.

He falls atop of you once more, connecting his lips to yours and moaning at the taste of your mouth. Your fingers find their way into the silky locks of his hair and he groans into your mouth at the feeling. You could feel the weight of his length pressed against your core, slightly rubbing at any sudden movement, and it drew so many more sounds from your body. Sounds that he needed to keep hearing. He never wanted to stop hearing the sounds you make for him.

He pulls away, keeping his eyes on yours as he reaches down to position himself upon your entrance. You didn't know what to expect for what was to come, but you knew you were ready. You were more than ready for him.

A gasp falls from your mouth as he, very slowly, pushes inside of you. The sting was definitely there, but your want for him was so intense that any feeling of discomfort was gone within seconds and soon you were desperately whimpering for him to give you more.

He lets out a grunt, squeezing his eyes closed at the feeling you provided him. You were so warm, and tight, and he felt at home as he buried himself inside the walls of your body.

"Please," you beg him, "More. I need more."

His head falls to the crook of your neck and his hips begin to move against yours, pulling out only just enough until he's diving back inside of you again. The moans that slip from your lips cause his movements to increase and your legs to tighten around his waist.

"God I love you," he grunts into your ear, "So fucking perfect." You moan even louder at his words, your core tightening around him.

One of his hands reach up to cup your breast, the feelings of his fingers playing with your nipple heightening your senses more than you thought possible. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his grip further.

He continues touching you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, growing desperate to hear more of the sounds you make for him. You don't disappoint as another moan escapes you and the pace of his thrusting increases.

There's a familiar feeling building in your core and the grip you have on the back of his neck tightens. His kisses trail from your neck to the underside of your chin and eventually back up to your mouth. You kiss him back hungrily and you dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, pushing him deeper inside of you.

He grips the sheets beside your head and pulls away so he can look at you. He wanted to see the faces you make when you fall apart beneath him, a sight that was more beautiful than anything he'd ever witnessed in his life.

"Look at me, darling," he says, reaching up to softly grip your chin.

You open your eyes and look up at him through your lashes. This was what he wanted to see. He wanted to see your eyes; to look into your soul and watch the way these intense feelings you shared swam around in your irises.

The intensity with which you looked at him caused that oh so familiar euphoric feeling to begin building inside of him as well. He was a weak man when he looked into your eyes. Your eyes were surely going to push him to the edge.

His thrusts grow faster and harder, causing your mouth to fall open and your fingers to bury themselves into the plush skin of his back. That feeling inside of you grows more and more and you feel as though your head may spin off of your shoulders any second.

It only takes a few more of his thrusts and you feel as though you're floating beneath him. Your eyes never leave his and his name slips from your lips over and over, your thighs then tightening around his waist, your core tightening around him even more so. The way you're looking up at him, the way your walls squeeze him so tightly, and the beautiful sounds that fall from your lips cause him to lose all control he's ever had.

His large hands grip your hips and his face falls into the juncture of your shoulder followed by his deep moans releasing from his chest, all the while his pleasure releases inside of you.

You feel breathless, yet wonderful as you hold each other.

Both of you slowly come down from the pleasurable high you simultaneously shared, the room suddenly feeling very warm. Jungkook places a few more kisses down your shoulder and back up again until he reaches your lips. Your lips join in a kiss that lasts for a few slow moments, the two of you basking in the feeling of each other.

He slowly pulls away and looks at you with an endearing gaze as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I love you," he whispers.

Your heart swells and the corner of your lips raise before you lean back in, stealing another kiss.

"I love you too," you whisper back and run your fingers down the side of his handsome face.

For the rest of the night, the two of you lie in bed, limbs tangled and your hearts full. You no longer felt nervous or scared of what was to come in your future, for all you needed was your Viscount and the love he has never hesitated to give you. The fear and anxiousness you felt all melted away as you look over at the man who you got to share the rest of your life with.

Marrying the Viscount was the best thing to have ever happened to you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[missmeinyourbones]

WHERE LOVE LIVES

big bro touya & little snotty brother shouto, noncanon verse where rei got the kids the fuck out of that house!!!! slightly suggestive at first but shouto is a cockblock, i love u todobros, part 2?

Against the creaks of the floorboards and the buzz of the streetlights outside, the Todoroki household is relatively calm. 

It’s barely the beginning of summer. Though it's rather late, the sun only set a mere hour ago and the humidity in the air still holds up, even without the harsh rays marinating the sky. 

The Todoroki house itself is on the smaller side, especially for a family as large as they are. Filled to the brim with trinkets and out of place belongings, there’s not much wiggle room for architectural design or things that aren't deemed necessities. 

But it’s well-loved, by a gentle mother and her four rowdy children. There are scratches on the floor from Shouto’s scooter that’s meant to be used only outdoors, and a chip in the beige paint from where Natsuo pushed Touya into the wall. Fuyumi’s work sneakers carefully sit beside the front door’s welcome mat. It’s a house and a home. 

With Touya’s mother out for the night, the eldest son was left in charge of the house—and with that, his siblings. When your boyfriend charmingly invited you to spend the night at his place, he might’ve left out that tiny detail. 

“Babe,” the squeaking of Touya’s mattress can he heard as he whines against your cheek, “you serious?” 

You push him, though your warm smile betrays your rough action, “Deadly.”

Touya smirks at your resistance—he’s always loved a good challenge. His hands crawl up your sides, squeezing at the sensitive skin by your hips and waist. He laughs under his breath when you gasp on top of him at the brushing of his fingertips. 

“Not even a quickie?” he smugly instigates. 

“Touya, all three of your siblings are home.”

He remains unphased, shrugging beneath you. His chapped lips find your neck, crawling up to your jaw and right below your ear. He sucks a bit harshly on the one spot he knows you like so much. 

“So? We can be quiet.”

You laugh at his bold words, and Touya hums happily against the vibration of your throat. 

“You’ve never been quiet a day in your life,” you remind him.

“I could learn,” he’s quick to retort. With a sudden buck of his hips, you feel his half-hard length rub briefly against your heat. Touya doesn't miss the way you bite your tongue to hide your whimper. 

At his foul play, you lean in dangerously close—not close enough to give him the satisfaction of your lips touching—before whispering.

“Sorry, I don’t fuck bad babysitters.”

Touya’s tongue skims his canine as he growls. “That’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.” 

You let him kiss you, and it's short and sweet despite his lewd words. But Touya works for more. His soft tongue tries to encourage your mouth to open, but you let him fail the first few times. On his third persistent try, you let your jaw fall open just enough to allow him access into your mouth. 

A soft moan purrs in your chest, and when Touya opens his eyes to take in (what he knows to be) the alluring sight, his eyes catch a tiny figure standing in his bedroom doorway. 

“Fuckin’ christ—” he jumps beneath you, bucking you off in the process and scootching upwards against his bedframe. 

You turn in panic to look at the now cracked open door, only to see a tiny Shouto. With squinting eyes and a pout on his face, his dainty hand fiddles against the doorknob of your boyfriend’s room. 

Touya runs his hands through his overgown roots in frustration. 

Now, he knows how dramatic he can be at times, but he means it when he says that this might be the worst thing to ever happen to him. Shouto, of all people, cockblocking you two. It’s like a comedy sketch written by his own personal devil.

“The fuck are you doing up?” he dares to ask him, though you don’t miss the “fuckin’ perv” he grumbles at the end of the question. 

“I—” a sniffled hiccup interrupts the smallest Todoroki’s declaration, “don’t feel good.”

Touya glares at his whimpering younger brother, unimpressed. “Go tell Natsuo,” he decides. 

“He’s asleep,” Shouto immediately whines in reply, because of course he tried Natsuo first. “And Fuyumi is studying for her big test tomorrow,” his voice drifts off as his eyes find the floor.

Touya, the last resort sibling, kisses his teeth and throws a pillow towards the door. 

“Well, ’m busy, too.” He returns to nip at your neck once more, but the glare you give him tells him otherwise. Unphased by your glare, he continus to lean in, but you dodge his advance and push his shoulder with your palm. 

“Fuck,” he groans dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. He turns his direction back to the boogery nuisance in his doorway. “Go drink water or something,” he waves him off with a hand. 

“Touya,” you hiss at your boyfriend’s coldness. He looks at you and shrugs, as if you’d approve of his dismissive reaction. Your eyes roll just as quickly as your voice beckons softly, “Come here, Shouto.”

You move to the edge of the bed and the sniffly boy trots over to you on heavy feet. His pajamas are wrinkled, presumably from tossing and turning in his bed for the last few hours. His hands hover over his abdomen as he hunches in nausea.

Your hand finds his forehead, sticky with sweat. “What doesn’t feel good?”

Shouto’s nose crinkles in disgust, and Touya rolls his eyes at the dramatics. 

You’re no stranger to any of the Todoroki siblings, especially the baby of the family. Between attending his school concerts and going out for ice cream celebrations, it’s safe to say there’s a lot of talk in the house about Touya’s pretty girlfriend—whom all siblings aren’t shy to vocalize is way out of his league. 

“My stomach feels weird,” he whispers behind a frown. 

You coo at his agony, fingers rubbing his boyish cheeks in an attempt to soothe his discomfort. “Well, what did you eat last?”

Shouto thinks for a moment behind his usual deadpan expression before his eyes slowly flicker over to where his older brother huffs on his bed. 

“Touya got us pizza for dinner,” he remembers. 

“Okay,” you nod. You remember seeing a few discarded pizza boxes when you first came in. “How many slices did you have?”

Shouto clams up in guilt at your innocent question, fumbling with his fingers and words as he croaks out a weak, “Seven…”

Your eyes grow in shock, but you’re able to suppress your surprise and merely nod before not so discreetly turning to his guardian for the night behind you in disappointment. 

Touya looks like a deer caught in headlights when you hiss through clenched teeth. “Seven?! What is wrong with you?”

He shrugs defensively, gesturing to the blob of red, white, and sniffles behind you. 

“He’s like… old,” Touya attempts to defend himself. “Figured I didn't have to watch him eat.”

Your eyes shoot daggers through his skin, and while he would normally love getting this look from you, he hates that it's in defense of his stupid brother. 

“Okay,” you sigh, turning back to the younger Todoroki. His eyes soften when you extend a hand to his slightly chubbier one, “Why don’t we go find some medicine and lay down for a bit, yeah?”

Shouto’s face lights up at the offer—but naturally, with one Todoroki sibling’s happiness comes another’s demise. 

“Woah woah woah—” Touya immediately stands up from his bed when his brother links your hand in his. He points at an accusatory at the little fucker when he gawks, “Who the fuck is ‘we’? Shouto knows where the medicine is.” 

“Touya,” comes your same warning from earlier, and while Touya loves pushing your buttons, he knows his final strike is always the third. 

So the three of you make your way downstairs—you and Shouto hand in hand while Touya grumpily trudges behind you. 

Touya’s right—for once in his life—because Shouto naturally guides you right to the medicine closet, opening the door for you and everything. What a little gentleman. 

A quick browse of the options and you decide on a bottle labeled for stomach relief. The bottle itself is opened but decently full, and Shouto behaves like a pro when he grabs himself a glass of water in preparation for his dose. 

You pour the designated amount into a medicine cup and lightly cringe at the thick consistency. The artificial advertisement of bubblegum and strawberry can only do so much to disguise the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s still medicine. You hear Touya stifle a gag from behind you, but you know it’s half to piss his younger brother off.

Shouto remains unphased, downing the liquid like a champ and silently rinsing out his mouth with his water. You swear you see him shoot Touya a look, one with slightly raised eyebrows that reads something along the lines of victory. 

You usher the two of them to the couch. Touya plops on the cushions obnoxiously, going as far as reaching for the television remote before you pluck it from his grasp. 

Though you sit beside him, knees skimming one another, it’s not enough for Touya—because Shouto makes himself at home with his head in your lap. Bastard. 

With a nod of approval from Shouto, you decide on some cartoon from the early 90s—something with talking animals and childish violence. 

The silence between the three of you takes over, but it’s warm—like a relaxing blanket of weight. The Todoroki household is rarely quiet, let alone a good kind of quiet, so Touya decides to let Shouto win this round.

He shifts his gaze to look down at his youngest brother. Shouto lays comfortably on your lap, your hands delicately raking through his hair to help lull him to sleep. When he feels Touya’s hard gaze on him, he has no issue returning the stare. Under your embrace, Shouto smiles mischievously and sticks his tongue out in a taunt. 

With Touya’s feet clunkily spread out on the coffee table and his arm loosely draped around your shoulder, he silently mouths to his brother. 

“Bitch.”

[onskepa]

Stxeli: Silly demon

Here is another chapter to keep you guys occupied while I type the next request! Enjoy!

Stxeli series

-------------------

“Hhhmmmhhmm~” Stxeli hums in content as she returns home from her little yovo adventure. Harvesting a good amount, many will eat well tonight. As she passes by, many greet her, some gifting her little trinkets or snacks. All that stxeli happily accepts and gives them yovo in gratitude. 

Arriving at her home, making sure the fruits are away from direct sunlight and in a cool nook, stxeli snacks on one of her gifts. There is still plenty of daylight left, her mother doesn't need her assistance and her father is important with his duties. Neytiri, her poor big sister, left to teach the ugly demon. 

So what can she do now?

“What to do, what to do…” stxeli wonders as she walks around the village. Doing bits here and there, helping young mothers or playing with children around her age. Even helped one of the girls to braid her long hair. A skill stxeli is coming to be an expert at. Her family can proudly tell. 

“Stxeli!” 

She turns around to see Tsu'tey running up to her. Greeting each other, she smiles. 

“Hi tsu’tey! Aren't you going to train the others?” stxeli asks. 

Tsu’tey nods but grins a bit mischievous, “yes, we are going to ride the pali’s, would you like to come?” he offers. 

Stxeli loves pali riding, but the logical side of her speaks, “I love to, but I don't want to get in the way of your training” 

“You won't, your sister is already there with the demon” 

That instantly clicked in her mind, understanding tsu’tey now. Her grin matching his own, stxeli raises her arms up. 

“Up please!” 

“Again!” Neytiri demands, her patience running thin. 

Jake sighs tiredly, getting up from the ground groaning in pain and exhaustion. To think riding a pali would be easy. Not everything is easy in Pandora, Jake guesses. If this is the easier part, he fears the future challenges he has to face. 

“Get up!” Neytiri looks down at him, showing her very obvious disapproving look. 

“I'm up, I'm up” Jake says. 

Getting back onto his feet, dusting himself off, “I know you are making this difficult for me, isn't there a better way?” he asks. 

“No, now try again” short and straightforward, something jake is taking notes about neytiri. 

He does again, this time he succeeds on getting on top of his pali, calming down the creature, he bonds with her. It felt odd yet amazing,  he can feel what the pali is feeling, feeling her heartbeat. Gathering the courage to go further, “HYAH!” he yelps, only for the thrust of the pali to be too quick. 

He falls once more, his face meeting mud. 

It took a lot of strength from neytiri to not laugh at his failure. 

Groaning in pain again, jake suddenly hears the sound of multiple hoof sounds. All coming to his direction.  So getting up and turning he sees none other than Tsu'tey and his students. Along with a tiny someone. 

“You should go away!” Tsu'tey sneers at jake. Speaking in clear english. 

“No, you’d miss me” jake talks back, a bit in a joking manner as he gets closer to tsu’tey. By instinct, tsu’tey turns his pali to cover stxeli from jake’s eyes. 

Ignoring what the warrior is doing, jake points at him, “I knew you speak english” 

Neytiri walks to jake, gently guiding the pali back. Tsu’tey speaks something to neytiri, something jake doesn't understand but chuckles it off.

“He will not learn. A stone can see better. Look at him” tsu’tey tells neytiri, who just smiles. Shaking her head, she gives jake a little break to clean himself off. Jake happily does. 

“What are you doing here? I told you I don't want you to be anywhere near him” neytiri asks as she sees stxeli sitting comfortably in front of tsu’tey, while munching on some yovo fruit. 

“He offered!” stxeli was quick to point at tsu’tey. 

Neytiri glares at tsu’tey, grunting disapprovingly. 

“Are you two just here to watch Jake fail and laugh at him?” 

“Yes” her sister and friend both answer quickly and honestly. 

Sighing, neytiri places a hand on stxlie’s leg, “sister, please be careful, you as well tsu’tey. If she is joining you, then you will be fully responsible of her while I am busy”. 

Tsu’tey nods, “she is always safe with me,” he reminds.

While keeping a safe distance, stxeli was enjoying her time. Seeing the dream walker fail time and time again was very amusing. And the silly faces he makes! He may be ugly but his goofy falls make up for it. 

However, because of the constant failures, it is getting on Neytiri's nerves. Clearly the dream walker is not improving at all. 

“Bah! You are pathetic! You will never learn like this!” Neytiri shouts in frustration. Up on one of the branches, stxeli was observing the whole ordinal. Neytiri is looking a lot like their father when angry. Down to furrowing their eyes. 

Jake was huffing and puffing, exhausted beyond his capability. 

“Done, we are done for today. Bathe yourself! You reek!” Neytiri shouts as she walks away. 

“Stupid dreamwalker, stupid ugh!” Neytiri mutters in frustration as she chops the vegetables. The other na’vi kept their distance so as to not tip her anger even more. Mo’at took notice of neytiri’s emitting anger, and how it is frightening the others. Before she can ask, stxeli appear beside her. 

“Tsmuke is mad because the alien constantly fails. He is not improving sa’nu” mo’at’s youngest tells. Now finally understanding the situation. 

“You go on ahead, do what you like until dinner” mo’at says, nodding happily, stxeli leaves. 

Taking a deep breath, the tsahik gets up from her position to go speak with her eldest child. Knowing how much she takes after her father, mo’at prepares for a long talk

“DAMN IT!” Jake curses out in anger. 

Once again Jake falls on his ass from trying to ride a pali. Groaning out in anger, he slams his fist against the ground. 

“The hell am I doing wrong?” He asks out. Letting his voice echo throughout the forest. 

“Theenk tu demon!” a voice was heard. 

Jake turned around, his ears twitching, trying to search for the voice. It sounded like a little child speaking, with a very heavy accent. 

“Hello….?” he calls out. 

“Theenk na’vi!” the voice speaks out again. 

Jake gets up, trying to find the source, “where the hell are you?” 

“STAY AWAY!” the voice screeches. 

Jake does so, feeling very confused. “Ok, ok I won't move” 

“Theenk na’vi!” the voice repeats. 

Aaaah, Jake now understands. Grinning a bit, he asks, “are you helping me?” 

“Halp tsumke” the voice replies. 

The voice no doubt belongs to neytiri’s “little sister”. The child, Jake suspects, is a human. Neytiri and the other na’vi would do their best to hide her from his view. Seems the child is doing the same. 

“Halp you, halp tsmuke” the child’s English was very broken, can barely understand her words. Her na’vi accent is very thick. 

“Ok…think na’vi you say..” Jake understood more. How the hell does that work? 

Stxeli wanted to slam her whole head against the tree. Why did she think it was a good idea? Any of this? Maybe she was better off with tsu’tey. But seeing neytiri upset didn't sit well with her. No doubt she will be in big trouble for being this close to the demon, and alone non the less. Stxeli would do anything to ease her family’s tension. 

Too bad she didn't think it through that she had to speak in english to the demon. 

English is so hard! 

Stxeli only knows a few words from trying to repeat what her family says. Half the time she doesn't even know what it means. 

That demon better learn the peoples language soon because right now she sounds like a baby. 

“Theenk na’vi! Pali theenk!” the child continues to say. 

Jake tilts his head, trying to code what she meant. 

“Thump…!! To thump! Beating!” 

“Are you talking about heartbeat?” Jake asks. Remembering what neytiri said. Feel the pali’s heartbeat. 

“Theenk na’vi! Pali theenk!” the child continues to say. 

Jake tilts his head, trying to code what she meant. 

“Thump…!! To thump! Beating!” 

“Are you talking about heartbeat?” Jake asks. Remembering what neytiri said. Feel the pali’s heartbeat. 

Looking at the pali, Jake takes a deep breath. Heading over, slowly raising his arms, displaying no threat. The pali takes notice, hesitant at first. 

“Easy…easy girl…” Jake soothes. The pali snorts out, letting jake get closer. 

“Bond! Kuru! Thump!” the child instructs. 

Rolling his eyes, jake carefully gets on the pali, being steady to not scare her. Feeling how calm she is, jake connects his kuru with the pali. Feeling what she is feeling, the thump of her heartbeat, the dirt from her hooves, the air in her nostrils. He can feel it all. 

“Theenk! One! Move!” 

“Ok…” taking it slow, jake thinks of what he wants to do. The pali starts to walk slowly around the area. Even taking a bit of jumps in glee. 

“Woa..!” he smiles, seeing as he has not fallen off to the ground again. 

“Ok let's try it” he mutters, his smile growing. The pali walks a bit faster, then faster, to the point where she begins to run around the area. Feeling her strong legs, her lungs taking deep breaths. It felt great, it was as though it was Jake who was running. 

“Woohoo!!” he cheers. 

“You what?!” mo’at couldn't believe what she just heard. 

Stxeli looked down, feeling guilty. 

“I'm sorry sa’nu! I just didn't want tsmuke to be angry any longer” she tried to excuse. Mo’at wasn't hearing it. When her sweet child told her of how close she was in Jake's proximity, how it was so easy for him to see her. Mo’at was shaking in fear. 

One wrong move, that is all it can take, one wrong move and stxeli would be taken-

“Sa’nu?” 

Stxeli grabs her mothers hands, letting her smaller ones reach her warmth. 

By instinct mo’at pulled stxeli close to her chest, feeling her tiny heartbeat. Quickly it soothes mo’ats anxiety. 

“Ma’ite, that was very reckless of you. If neytiri told you to stay away from him, you do so. He is still considered dangerous ma’ite. I dont want anything terrible happen to you” mo’at says. 

Stxeli huffs a bit, “as if that demon can hurt me. He fell off of the poor pali multiple times” 

“I dont care. From now on you will be either with me, or your sempu. Do you hear me? If jakesully is close, you hide. I am serious ma’ite. Not until he is deemed trustworthy” 

Stxeli nods. However, seeing her mother behave like this is new to her. Not one did her mother display such uneasiness. It worried stxeli very much. 

“Sa’nu? Why are you and everyone so worried that the demon seeing me? Is something wrong with me?” stxeli couldn't help but ask. Mo’at was quick to shake her head, sharing a light kiss on her little head. 

“No, there is nothing wrong with you, my child. There are just things outsiders have no reason to lay their eyes on things that don't concern them”. 

Mo’at holds her child tightly, her golden eyes staring out into the world. Sharp and steady. She may allow Jake to stay in her village, but she will not hesitate to take him out if he ever dares to get close to her little one. 

Aaaaaaaaaand that is it! Hope you all enjoyed this new chapter! Until next time! See ya!

Like the story? Click HERE to put your name in the taglist!

---------

Taglist:

@alastorhazbin @spookymomfriendtm @moonchildxoxx @thehoneymushroomhealer @kat-the-kit @galactict3a @my-skeleton-hats @hoodiepandaninja16 @sugurupookie @vivangothic @thepotatoislost @ceylon-morphe286 @victoria2054 @tulipatheticee @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @skittlebum @iaoisiwqk @ikeyniofthetayrangi @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-of-stars-and-flowers @baybaybear1 @imunkowndepressedandhorny @l-nectarine-l @poteitalouca @ayedomino0 @eternallyvenus @jane-3043 @jamie-rose @angrycoffeebean @that-of-stars-and-flowers @yuuseok-san

[warden-melli]

AGREED WITH UR TAGS. their friendship and relationship is so interesting because there's like. a LOT to it i think. i think its interesting in showing irida's flaws as a leader until she's able to learn a bit more about it and how to forge her own path but palina's response is also very interesting and it kinda makes me wonder about her response to the events, not just irida's pleading for her to train growlithe but to irida becoming the leader. and also like, what happens after they make up, that kind of thing.

some people interpret it as them just never getting along again, but i do like to think they eventually make up again, despite palina giving her a bit of tough love during the player's second visit to firespit island and the whole heatran thing. also irida seems like she wants to be on good terms with them again, so i do think they make up again, but just thinking about their friendship with one another (and how someone in the pearl clan suggests that due to irida having a dead mother when she was young, palina is someone she's very close to) is like. very interesting and i like it. sorry for the wall of text i have many thoughts about All Things Irida

Agreed their friendship is so interesting and I just keep thinking about it. I agree that Irida had a lot to learn about being a leader at the start of the game (as did Adaman), but even so I feel like Palina was a bit unfair to Irida, and I personally feel like their conflict is based on jealousy over Irida being selected as leader over Palina, and also Irida not wanting to accept that the nature of their relationship has changed as opposed to Irida’s shortcomings as leader

Like, we know that the two used to be super close, with Irida considering Palina to be an older sister that she clearly looked up to. We also know that the two competed to be leader of their clan, and that Irida was ultimately the one selected to be leader

I do understand Palina’s disappointment. It has to hurt to try really hard, but fail to achieve a position that you really, really wanted. Especially if you lost to somebody younger that you, and who you served as a mentor figure for. It may also hurt more after the incident with Lord Arcanine sr, as the trauma of the event may may have made her feel like she also failed in her duties as warden. I think it’s evident that Palina despite scolding Irida for acting as if their positions haven’t changed, still sees Irida as her little sister first, and doesn’t truly respect her as leader

I keep coming back to this dialogue - It really makes me think that this may have been a deciding factor in why Irida was selected as leader over Palina, and she’s clearly still very upset and bitter about it

I don’t like how quick Palina was to embarrass Irida in front of both the player and Iscan, especially after Irida challenged her by attempting to lay down boundaries as leader. Palina claims to know and accept that Irida is the leader, yet scolding her in front of everyone like she’s a child isn’t a good way to show it. I also get that she doesn’t want to be called that nickname anymore, but I don’t think Irida is doing it maliciously at all. It genuinely seems to be a force of habit, but even still Palina has requested she stop, so she really does need to work on that. In saying that though, I don’t think that Palina rejects the use of that nickname because she genuinely doesn’t like it anymore, but as a way to push Irida away, and to reestablish their relationship as a purely business one as a way of coping with her failure to become leader. I think Irida is confused, and having trouble coming to terms with the fact that things have changed between them after becoming leader, and she’s stressed and just wants her big sister.

I also keep thinking about how much this differs from Adaman’s relationship with his older sister figure, and of how opposite these two’s relationship is compared to Irida and Palina’s.

Mai (as seen in this offical art) happily teaches Adaman to play the flute (despite him being absolutely awful at it - another direct opposite of Irida), and throughout the story happily performs tasks for him, and advising him without question. This contrasts Irida and Palina’s relationship where Palina is the one less talented with the flute, and who pushes back against Irida’s requests (growlithe), and who sees any requests for guidance as a personal failure as leader.

I could keep talking, and there’s so so much more to the relationship, and feud between these two, but I really think the biggest conflict between them isn’t the direction, or lack of experience of Irida’s leadership, but the fact that Irida is leader and Palina is not. Another important factor I didn’t even touch on was Palina and Iscan’s relationship, one forced to be kept secret due to the two Clans feud, and how Irida’s position as leader of that Clan may further complicate their relationship

The saddest part of all of this to me however is it’s kind of implied that Irida had no great ambition of becoming leader, and it can be interpreted that she may have only competed to be leader because Palina was doing it, or because the two share a love for their people that may have been encouraged by Palina in Irida in the first place

Despite Palina’s concerns about Irida’s leadership, Irida is is nothing but loyal and defensive of Palina. Even with Palina’s behaviour and her reputation as warden plummeting due to refusing to train Growlithe, and no matter what people may say about her, Irida only ever speaks highly, lovingly and respectfully of her, even when Palina doesn’t extend the same grace

Despite their feud (which feels mostly one sided to me) their relationship started from a genuine place of friendship, so I truly would like to believe that the two of them could work through their issues and one day become friends, sisters, again.

Sorry for my own wall of text but my respect for Irida incurable and I have so so many thoughts about the girl ;.;

[lunathewafflelord]

It just occurred to me that if you replace every instance of the word "autism" in I Am Autism with "ableism" it'd actually be accurate. So I made it a thing.

(under cut because it's long + the ableist connotations of the original commercial)

I am ableism. I’m visible in your children, but if I can help it, I am invisible to you until it’s too late. I know where you live. And guess what? I live there too. I hover around all of you. I know no color barrier, no religion, no morality, no currency. I speak your language fluently. And with every voice I take away, I acquire yet another language. I work very quickly. I work faster than pediatric aids, cancer, and diabetes combined And if you’re happily married, I will make sure that your marriage fails. Your money will fall into my hands, and I will bankrupt you for my own self-gain. I don’t sleep, so I make sure you don’t either. I will make it virtually impossible for your family to easily attend a temple, birthday party, or public park without a struggle, without embarrassment, without pain. You have no cure for me. Your scientists don’t have the resources, and I relish their desperation. Your neighbors are happier to pretend that I don’t exist—of course, until it’s their child. I am ableism. I have no interest in right or wrong. I derive great pleasure out of your loneliness. I will fight to take away your hope. I will plot to rob you of your children and your dreams. I will make sure that every day you wake up you will cry, wondering who will take care of my child after I die? And the truth is, I am still winning, and you are scared. And you should be. I am ableism. You ignored me. That was a mistake. And to ableism I say: I am a father, a mother, a grandparent, a brother, a sister. We will spend every waking hour trying to weaken you. We don’t need sleep because we will not rest until you do. Family can be much stronger than ableism ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated by you, nor will the love and strength of my community. I am a parent riding toward you, and you can push me off this horse time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on, and ride on with the message. Ableism, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing with. You forget the spirit of mothers, and daughters, and fathers and sons. We are Qatar. We are the United Kingdom. We are the United States. We are China. We are Argentina. We are Russia. We are the European Union. We are the United Nations. We are coming together in all climates. We call on all faiths. We search with technology and voodoo and prayer and herbs and genetic studies and a growing awareness you never anticipated. We have had challenges, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak the only language that matters: love for our children. Our capacity to love is greater than your capacity to overwhelm. Ableism is naïve. You are alone. We are a community of warriors. We have a voice. You think because some of our children cannot speak, we cannot hear them? That is ableism’s weakness. You think that because my child lives behind a wall, I am afraid to knock it down with my bare hands? You have not properly been introduced to this community of parents and grandparents, of siblings and friends and schoolteachers and therapists and pediatricians and scientists. Ableism, if you are not scared, you should be. When you came for my child, you forgot: you came for me. Ableism, are you listening?

[three-eyed-skullbunny]

I am autism. 👹 I’m visible in your children 👦🧒👧 but if I can help it, I am invisible 🫥 to you 🫵 until it’s too late ⏰ I know where you 🫵 live 🏠 And guess what? I live there too 🏡 I hover around all of you 🫵 I know no color ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 barrier, no religion, ✝️ no morality, no currency 💷💴💵 I speak your language fluently And with every voice I take away, I acquire yet another language I work very quickly I work faster than pediatric aids, cancer, and diabetes combined 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠 And if you’re happily married👰, I will make sure that your marriage fails 💔 Your money 💰 will fall 🧗 into my hands 🤲, and I will bankrupt you 🫵 for my own self-gain I don’t sleep, 💤😴🛌 so I make sure you 🫵 don’t either I will make it virtually impossible for your family 🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒 to easily attend a temple, 🏛️ birthday party, 🥳 or public park 🏞️ without a struggle, without embarrassment, without pain 😫 You 🫵 have no cure 💉 for me Your scientists 👨‍🔬👩‍🔬🧑‍🔬 don’t have the resources, and I relish their desperation. Your neighbors 🏡 are happier 😁 to pretend that I don’t exist—of course, until it’s their child 👦👧🧒 I am autism. I have no interest in right 👍 or wrong 👎 I derive great pleasure out of your loneliness 😿 I will fight 🤺 to take away your hope. 🙏 I will plot to rob you 🫵 of your children 👦👧🧒 and your dreams. I will make sure that every day you 🫵 wake up ⬆️ you 🫵 will cry, 😭 wondering who will take care of my child 👦👧🧒 after I die? 🪦 And the truth is, I am still winning, 🥇 and you 🫵 are scared. 😱 And you 🫵 should be I am autism. You 🫵 ignored me. That was a mistake.And to autism I say: I am a father, 👨 a mother, 👩 a grandparent, 👵 a brother, 👦 a sister. 👧 We will spend every waking hour trying to weaken you. 🫵 We don’t need sleep 💤 because we will not rest until you 🫵 do. Family 🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒 can be much stronger than autism ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated by you, 🫵 nor will the love and strength of my community. I am a parent riding toward you, 🫵 and you 🫵can push me off this horse 🐴 time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on, and ride on with the message. Autism, you 🫵 forget who we are. You 🫵 forget who you are dealing with. You 🫵 forget the spirit of mothers, 👩 and daughters, 👧 and fathers 👨 and sons. 🧒 We are Qatar. 🇶🇦 We are the United Kingdom. 🇬🇧 We are the United States. 🇺🇸 We are China.🇨🇳 We are Argentina. 🇦🇷 We are Russia. 🇷🇺 We are the European Union. 🇪🇺 We are the United Nations. 🇺🇳 We are coming together in all climates. We call on all faiths. We search with technology 🧑‍💻👩‍💻👨‍💻 and voodoo 🪄 and prayer 🙏 and herbs 🌿 and genetic studies 🧬 and a growing awareness you 🫵 never anticipated.

We have had challenges, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak 🗣️ the only language that matters: love ❤️ for our children. 🧒 👦👧 Our capacity to love ❤️ is greater than your capacity to overwhelm. Autism is naïve. You 🫵 are alone. We are a community of warriors. We have a voice. You 🫵 think because some of our children cannot speak, 🗣️ we cannot hear 👂 them? That is autism’s weakness. You 🫵 think 💭 that because my child 🧒👦👧 lives behind a wall, I am afraid to knock it down with my bare hands? 🙌 You 🫵 have not properly been introduced to this community of parents 👩👨 and grandparents, 👴👵 of siblings 👧🧒 and friends 👯‍♂️ and schoolteachers 🧑‍🏫👨‍🏫👩‍🏫 and therapists and pediatricians and scientists. 👨‍🔬 👩‍🔬 🧑‍🔬 Autism, if you 🫵 are not scared, 😱 you 🫵should be. When you came for my child, 👦👧🧒 you forgot: you 🫵 came for me. Autism, are you 🫵 listening? 👂

i wasn’t listening could you repeat that

[obsessivefangirl]

I am autism 🧩. I'm visible 👁 in your children 👨‍👦, but if I can help 🆘️ it, I am invisible to you until it's too late 🕖. I know where you live 🏠. And guess what? I live 🏠 there too. I hover around all of you. I know no color ⚫️ barrier 🚧 , no religion ✡️❌️ ☪️❌️ ✝️❌️ 🕉❌️, no 🚫 morality⚖️, no 🚫 currency 💸💸💸. I speak 🗣🗣 your language fluently. And with every voice I take away 😶😶, I acquire yet another language . I work very quickly 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️. I work faster than pediatric aids, cancer ♋️, and diabetes 💉 combined And if you're happily married 💒👰🤵, I will make sure that your marriage fails 📃🍺🍺🍺. Your money 💰 🤑 will fall into my hands 🫴🫴, and I will bankrupt 📉 you for my own self-gain 💪💪. I don't sleep 💤🙅‍♀️, so I make sure you don't either 😴. I will make it virtually impossible for your family to easily attend a temple 🕍, birthday party🥳🎉🎂 , or public park without a struggle, without embarrassment 😳, without pain 🤕. You have no cure 💊🧪⛔️ for me. Your scientists 🧑‍⚕️ don't have the resources, and I relish their desperation😩 . Your neighbors 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️ are happier to pretend that I don't exist🙈 -of course, until it's their child 🧟. I am autism 😈. I have no interest in right ✅️ or wrong ❌️. I derive great pleasure 😄😄 out of your loneliness 😞😞. I will fight to take away your hope. I will plot to rob 🥷 you of your children 👶👶 and your dreams 💭. I will make sure that every day you wake up you will cry 😭😭😭, wondering who will take care of my child after I die ☠️🪦? And the truth is, I am still winning 🏆, and you are scared 😱😱. And you should be. I am autism 🧩. You ignored me. That was a mistake.

Family: And to autism 🧩 I say: I am a father 👨‍🍼, a mother 👩‍🍼, a grandparent 👵, a brother 🙎‍♂️ , a sister 👧. We will spend every waking hour trying to weaken ��🔪 you. We don't need sleep 😴❌️ because we will not rest until you do. Family 👨‍👩‍👧‍👧 can be much stronger than autism 🧩 ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated by you, nor will the love ❤️ and strength 💪 of my community. I am a parent 🤱 riding 🏇 toward you, and you can push 🫸🫸 me off this horse 🐎🤕 time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on, and ride on with the message 🏇🏇. Autism 🧩, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing with. You forget the spirit of mothers 🤱, and daughters 👧, and fathers 👨‍🍼 and sons 🧒. We are Qatar 🇶🇦. We are the United Kingdom 🇬🇧. We are the United States 🇺🇲. We are China 🇨🇳. We are Argentina 🇦🇷. We are Russia 🇷🇺. We are the Eurpoean Union 🇪🇺. We are the United Nations 🇺🇳. We are coming together in all climates 🥶🧊🥵🔥. We call on all faiths ✝️🕌🔮. We search 🔎 with technology 👨‍💻 and voodoo 🧙‍♀️ and prayer 🙏📿 and herbs 🌿 and genetic studies 🧬🔬 and a growing awareness 👀you never anticipated. We have had challenges, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak the only language that matters: love ❤️❤️ for our children 👪. Our capacity to love 💘 is greater than your capacity to overwhelm. Autism 🧩 is naïve. You are alone 🧍‍♂️. We are a community of warriors 🤺🤺🤺. We have a voice 🗨. You think because some of our children cannot speak 😶, we cannot hear 🔇 them? That is autism's 🧩 weakness. You think that because my child lives behind a wall 🧱, I am afraid to knock it down with my bare hands 🧱🤛🤛? You have not properly been introduced to this community of parents 👪 and grandparents 👵👴, of siblings 👬 and friends 👫 and schoolteachers 👩‍🏫 and therapists👩‍⚕️ and pediatricians 👨‍⚕️ and scientists 👩‍🔬. Autism 🧩, if you are not scared 😱😱, you should be. When you came for my child 🧩🤜👼, you forgot: you came for me. Autism 🧩🤜🤛👩, are you listening 👂?

[lordy-lou]

giving time

read here on ao3; written for the @tentoorosemicrofics​ challenge for the prompt “pete”

When Pete first meets the blue-suited Doctor—well, first is a misnomer, to begin with.  But when he and the newly-part-human man first shake hands, Pete can’t help but to look carefully at the man standing next to Rose, to examine and try to estimate timelines in his own faulty, purely-human way.  

(He’s read studies on this: when asked to estimate how much time has passed since an event, humans don’t do too well on accurately gauging the minutes, seconds, hours, without an external timepiece.  When predicting how much time will have passed, humans do the opposite: they’re far more accurate.  Faultiness of memory inherent in the recall of the past, but far better predictive abilities when set a task.  

Handy, that.  An evolutionary predilection for anticipation.)

Still tall, still thin.  New age on a face that wasn’t meant to age, according to Rose, but the sort of aging that’s come hard-won with tragedy.  Pete knows the look; he recognizes it from himself, from the bad years, after Jacks and before Jackie.  But not the oldest he’s seen from the man.

“Pete!  Pete Tyler,” says the Doctor, shaking his hand vigorously.  “Glad to see you still kicking about, especially with the missus’ cooking.”  He delivers the second phrase sotto voce, but not quite sotto voce enough, and fails to avoid a swat from the aforementioned missus, and Jackie scoffs.  

“Goes to show what you know,” she says, wrapping her coat tighter around herself.  Lord, Norway’s cold, and this beach reeks of brine and the sea and the faint, cosmic tang of split dimensions.  “I’ve got a cook and all.  Me!  A cook and a mansion.  Imagine that!”  She shoots a grin and a wink to Pete, which he happily returns.

Rose, however, smiles dimly at her mother’s continued amazement about finances, and Pete watches the Doctor hone in on that small smile like a lifering to a man drowning.  The man (man?  Alien?  Jackie had been her usual self when calling for a lift, and hadn’t explained things much beyond “He’s gone and starfished himself!”) murmurs something in her ear that Pete can’t hear, one hand curled around her upper arm…

…and her smile disappears.  Rose steps away from the Doctor, takes a breath, and looks at Pete and Jackie.

“I’ll see you in the zeppelin, yeah?” she says—not asks, the day Rose asks for permission or help or anything of the sort is the day the sun rises in the west—and begins trudging up the beach to where the zeppelin’s anchored.  Jackie makes a sound, calls after her daughter, and Pete—

Well. As the Doctor curls in on himself minutely, his lips pressed together and thin with pain—Pete watches a man drown on dry land.

—

Rose keeps up her silent treatment for the first part of the zeppelin ride back to London.  It’s not that the Doctor and Jackie don’t try; they do, heroically keeping up conversation like everything’s normal, trying to loop Rose in as much as possible.  But she’s refusing to engage, like she did before the beach last time.  Patterns and cycles, and Rose’s pattern is avoidance or dismissal until she can figure things out in her own time.  Or, alternately, kicking the world in the teeth in her refusal to accept what is.  Girl after his own heart, she is; seems like she’s taking the first option this time.

Pete is piloting the zeppelin and keeping a weather ear open.  The Doctor had come up, once, during a lull in the back-and-forth he’d been keeping up with Jackie.   He’d poked around, asked questions, made full eye contact, seemed sure in his skin.  

Pete’d considered asking what the whole metacrisis event entailed, but shook the thought away.  This man was the Doctor; this man loved Rose.  Good enough for him.  Instead, he’d explained the evolution of zeppelin technology in this universe (”Pete’s World!  That’s what Rose and I called it, when—well—”), the death of the monarchy (“Ahhh, Torchwood Estate.  No one to stop the lupine wavelength haemovariform, although—”), and the Great War (“Nineteen-twelve, not nineteen-fourteen?  Oh, fascinating!”) before the Doctor had gotten visibly antsy.  It’s when he starts to leave the co-pilot’s seat that Pete clears his throat.

“Doctor,” he begins, staring out the viewscreen in a pointless effort to make this upcoming conversation less awkward.  “Give her time.”

Even in his peripheral, Pete can see the Doctor’s raised eyebrow; the man is pointedly unimpressed.

“I know Rose Tyler,” he says, lowly, his voice absent of all the previous jocularity.  It’s steady and cool, and this is a voice that Pete knows. “I’m well aware that she needs time.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t try in the meanwhile.”

“Nah, Doctor,” Pete says.  His hands are sweating, minutely.  He shakes himself mentally.  “We’ve measured the timelines, you know.  It was two—well, some of our scientists argued three, but we’ve agreed by now—it was two years and some change for you, yeah? After Canary Wharf?”

There is silence in the cockpit, and Pete barrels on. “And how long did you travel with Rose, too?  Same story, right?  Two years and some change if you’re asking Rose, three years and some change if you’re asking my wife.”

“Two years, four months, five days, seven hours, thirty-one minutes.”

“Bet you could tell me down to the attosecond, couldn’t ya?”

“I’d really rather not.  Where are you going with this?”

“Point is, Doctor,” Pete says, dragging in a breath through his nose.  “Point is, you had two and a bit with Rose.  She and Jacks have been here nearly seven years, now.  I’ve called her my daughter for most of that time.  Hell, I felt it ever since I caught her, even if I didn’t know it at the time.”

Here, Pete chances a look at the man next to him.  The skin of his face is pale against the noxious cobalt of his suit, and there’s the beginning of an unpleasant realization sinking in.

Knowing that he is hammering nails into this man’s growing horror, his growing sadness, Pete continues:

“I also know Rose Tyler, Doctor.  Not like her mum, because she’s always going to be Jackie’s baby girl, but I know her.  She’s the daughter who fell into my arms and she’s the better mirror of me.  And I’m telling you that Rose needs time.”

He feels awful, playing at a pissing match no one asked for, this odd display of masculinity fitting awkwardly around his shoulders like an ill-made coat.  But he knows he’s said what has to be said, especially as the Doctor pulls an odd-looking coral thing out of his jacket pocket and studies it.  He knows that coral; he’s seen it before, a glimpse of otherworldly majesty that he has not yet begun to fully comprehend.

For both their sakes, Pete is nearly sick with relief when the Doctor says nothing, just clenches his jaw and begins to leave the cockpit.  But Pete cannot help but to vomit more words instead, to attempt to salve a wound that must be inflicted to preserve a causal loop.

“Doctor—before you go back in—”

“Oh, what now?” the other man asks, exasperation working double-time to hide what Pete knows must be a pressing terror.  But he stops in the doorframe anyways, his eyes bright and wet.

“She loves you,” Pete says.  “She really, truly loves you.  Fought tooth and nail to get back to you.  She’s older and harder, and god knows how much of that is my fault, letting her go on all those missions, but she’s still in there.” He knows it’s true as he says it.  His daughter has survived dangerous parallel worlds, galvanized broken souls, and she’s brokered peace treaties between warring races, and she did all while trying to live a life fantastic, if shattered. “I know her, Doctor, and that hasn’t changed.”

Then Pete lets his words take him a little too far: “That won’t change, Doctor.  Trust me on this.”

The Doctor studies Pete, his face dispassionate and flatly alien—no tics, no giveaways, nothing to hang a reference from—before he breaks into a grin, brilliant and sure.

“Oh, Pete Tyler.  You’re almost as clever as your daughter, you are.”  Then he throws the coral in his hand, flipping it in the air before catching it deftly.  “Transtemporal mechanics are a bit of a nightmare for human minds.  And here you are, year after year, waiting for the right time.  Tell me, though—does she know?”

Pete shrugs.  “Dunno what you’re talking about there, Doctor.”  He wills his face to be as stone as the alien’s was previously, and the Doctor lets out a loud HA! before he leaves the cockpit.

“Hope,” he says as he walks out.  “I quite like hope!”  

Pete breathes out a sigh.  He, too, hopes.

–

In his tiredness, Pete doesn’t recognize the sound at first, but the large blue box that shifts into view in the dank underground of Torchwood is a familiar sight, if only through a single glance and subsequent surveillance photos, surreptitiously archived by Mickey and sent over the breach.

Even then, he’s surprised when the Doctor—in a blue suit, this time, and it was a bit awful, really—bounds out of the TARDIS.  It’s a relief, really: Mickey’d said he’d be able to help, and his appearance here must mean that he was ready to solve this Cyberman prob—

“Hello, Pete!  Pete Tyler.  Not here to solve your Cyberman problem, unfortunately.”  The Doctor is beaming as he says this, and Pete’s heart both sinks in disappointment and, just as quickly, engulfs itself in rage.

“Doctor,” he says lowly.  “I think you’ll find that if you’re following Agent Smith’s directions—”

“I’m not!” the other man interrupts.  “Honestly, Pete, give it a week.   Things will be… ah, solved isn’t a great word for it, not really, but the breach will be mended.  A few things might slip there—a transmission, a thought, you should really listen to Rose when she says something about that—but that’s not why I’m here.”

Pete stands behind his desk, and he forces his fists to unclench from the tools in his hands.  He’d been fixing one of the dimension jumpers, the ugly things.  “I think you’ll find that it’d better be why you’re here, Doctor.”  The Doctor, wholly unperturbed, sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels.

“Honestly, Pete, it’s… taken care of.  Or it is in my timeline, anyways.  You’ll catch up in about… oh, seven years or so?  Keep an eye out for that, make it very sneaky-like when you first see me.  Or maybe not first, maybe during the zeppelin ride.  Don’t forget to pull some proprietary fatherly stuff in there, too—but I’m getting off track.  Sorry!  I’m here on a mission from you, actually.”

It’s a storm of information delivered in frighteningly few breaths.  Pete wills his shoulders to relax.  God, he’s so tired, and they’re so close to collapse; it’s the hottest summer on record and even this basement is too warm.  Blackouts have become commonplace and the sea levels are rising and the only thing keeping him from attacking the Doctor is his own damn exhaustion.

“I need,” he grits out, “for you to explain.”

To his utter frustration, the Doctor simply squints into the distance, like he’s seeing something in the air.  “Nah,” he says after a moment of that distant study.  “You don’t.  You’re a sharp one, Pete Tyler—thank goodness for that, otherwise I’d really be wondering where Rose got it from—oh, don’t tell Jackie I said that—but no, you’ll figure it out.   I’ve got a different goal here today.”  Then he quickly walks to Pete’s desk and grabs the dimension jumper off of it, before Pete can do or say anything.  

There’s a quick whirring, blue light—sonic screwdriver, according to Mickey—and then the jumper’s tossed back to Pete, and he barely catches it.

“Fixed,” says the Doctor.  Then his smile drops and his face sets into something stern.  “Now, Pete Tyler, listen to me.”

His voice is cool and low, and Pete, despite the muggy warmth of the basement, shivers.

“This jumper will continue to work as normal.  It is imperative that you are the one who uses it, understand?”  Any of the man’s overly-familiar facade has fully disappeared, but—

—but this man has lines where there hadn’t been any, during the initial Cyberman invasion.  He looks older.  For an alien that wasn’t supposed to age, only change—according to Mickey—how long had it been, for him?

“Pete!” the Doctor says, impatiently, leaning across the desk, crowding him.   “Only you.  This is also programmed to go off one last time before it stops working entirely.  Pete, you must be ready to catch her.  Facing north-north-west.”

There’s too much going on.  

“Catch her?” he repeats, dumbly.  Even as it leaves his mouth he’s ashamed, and the Doctor rolls his eyes.

“It’ll make sense in a week.  Just…”  and here, the Doctor’s overwhelming urgency fades, replaced with a soft sort of terror that Pete recognizes in an instant.  He’d heard it in his own voice when he’d planned to infiltrate the Cybus factories with Ro—with that girl—when he’d had only a weak hope for Jacks’ survival.

Pete’s mind whirls with potentials, with possibilities.  Catch her.  

“Ah,” he says, softly.  “I get it.”

The Doctor sniffs, raises an eyebrow.  “Do you?”  And there’s a challenge in that expression, a desperation, but above all… there’s a surety and trust there that feels undeserved as of yet.

Mickey’d mentioned how mental time travel could be.

“Think I do.”  Both eyebrows raise this time.  “Or, I expect I will in about a week’s time.”

The Doctor’s beam returns, full-wattage and nearly painful.  Pete wonders if it’s fake or not.  “Oh, at least the first half, I’m sure.”  Then the Doctor purses his lips and squints at Pete.  “Mum’s the word when you see me next, understand.  Preserve this timeline, Peter Alan Tyler.  Not the first time you’re doing this—well, not you-you, but other-you—oh, forget it.”

And with that, he turns and walks back to the TARDIS, and Pete catches a glimpse of towering metallic coral structures in a space too small for them to fit, and a distant figure in that biomechanical wonder moves closer to the door. He sees a flash of blond hair and a smile bright enough to power the entire grid, and his heart stutters in fear, in regret, and—

“Pete!” the Doctor calls, poking his head out of the doorway, blocking Pete’s view.

“Yeah?” he answers, weakly.

“Give her time.  She can be a right terror when she’s angry—ow!  Hey!”  The Doctor pops out of view for a second, then comes back.  “Sorry, the terror—I mean, the wife—” and this he directs with a grin back into the TARDIS, to the figure who by now is out of sight.  “Anyways.  Not just time; give her space, give her love.  You’ll understand.  Don’t forget.”  

Then the doors slam shut, and there is a great grinding noise and a warm blast of wind,

and then there is nothing.

Pete Tyler stands alone in a muggy basement, holding a dimension jumper in his hands.

Preserve the timeline, the Doctor’d said.  And all the other things he’d said, too.

Pete’s grip tightens on the dimension jumper, and then gentles.  He cradles it like something precious.

—

He’s able to set the zeppelin on autopilot by the time they’re about a third of the way over the North Sea, so Pete takes a moment to leave the cockpit and check on Jackie, who he’s sure has talked her way into a snit.  Hopefully no mother-daughter rows to defuse—not that he’d ever had much luck in doing so.  He’d been much better at picking up the pieces.

(He remembers, once-twice-thrice—Rose, hospitalized after a dangerous mission, shot or stabbed or torn, and Jackie laying into her like she’d been determined to get her own pound of flesh for herself.   The horrible, cutting things Rose’d said to her mother in return, desperate and angry, and Pete could only see himself after his Jacks had died, ready to cut others open in an attempt to staunch his own bleeding.

After one particularly nasty fight, Rose fresh from a failed diplomatic mission and freshly concussed as well, Jackie had stormed out of the hospital room in tears while Pete stood awkwardly in the corner.  This relationship was… a new one, only eight months old, and most of his attention had been on Jackie and her developing pregnancy.

Him!  A father!  At his age.  After all this time.

But then there was Rose, doing her damndest to hide her tears on a hospital bed in a darkened room.  And he remembered the bright flash of her grin in the distant doorway months ago, and realized that he’d seen her cry more often than he’d seen her smile and oh, how he wanted to see her smile like that again.  She looked like the best parts of her mother and him, even if he’d had no part to play in her life other than giving her a job, giving her a room—

—catching her.

Him.  A father, after all this time.  

Time—

Give her time.  Give her space.  Give her love.

Well, he wasn’t a time-travelling space alien, but…

Slowly, Pete had left his corner and sat himself in Jackie’s vacated chair.  He’d have to chase her down later, but for now—

Pete remembers the lack of resistance as he’d pulled Rose’s hands away from her face, remembers how she’d latched on to his own hands tightly as she curled inwards and sobbed in pain and frustration and heartbreak, remembers his own heart breaking for her.  This brilliant girl who could shout down a despot who’d been grounded, her wings clipped.

“I know you’ll see him again,” he’d said to her, after she’d cried herself out, finally fast asleep.  “You’ll see him, and you’ll be so happy,” he’d whispered.  “So, so happy, Rose.  I can’t wait.”

Pete wishes he could tell her when she was awake.  He wishes he could tell anyone.  But the refrain of preserve the timeline haunts him in his every word to anyone, and will for another six years.

In her sleep, though, she’d smiled.)

When Pete gets to the passenger deck, he is pleasantly surprised: Jackie’s huffily flipping through a magazine, but it’s one of her playful, pretend huffs, and he can tell she’s actually rather pleased.  She looks at him as he walks in, sneakily presses a finger to her lips, and then points at the seats on the opposite side of the passenger deck.  

The Doctor and Rose are bent together—no, more like Rose has curled herself around the Doctor, half in his lap and half on the seat, and he clutches her to him tightly.  She’s fully passed out as he runs the fingers of one hand through her hair, skittering up her arms and chastely around her waist, and he does not look out the window in favor of staring at the woman who flung herself across dimensions for the hope of finding him.

Pete walks softly towards Jackie, but even his quietest steps alert the Doctor, who slowly, gently lifts his head to look at Pete.  Rose murmurs and the Doctor smiles, whispers something in return; Rose nestles back into her spot on his shoulder.  It is the softest Pete’s ever seen her since that first time at Bad Wolf Bay.

The Doctor looks at Pete, and there’s that fathomless stare once more.

You caught her, he mouths clearly.

Pete shrugs.  She’s my daughter, he mouths in return.  And I had help.

The Doctor nods, as though this final confirmation is all he needed.  Then he closes those terrible, deep eyes, and bends his head down to rest against Rose’s, and, by all appearances, falls asleep.  His desperate grasp on Rose does not change.

Beside Pete, Jackie sniffles.

“Took ‘em long enough,” she whispers.

“Thought she’d need more time,” Pete whispers in return, offering his hand to his wife.  She takes it and he leads them both to the cockpit, where she settles comfortably in the copilot’s seat—although still very careful not to touch any of the controls.  Not her thing, she’d claimed; give her a lorry, though, and she’d paint the town red, she’d also claimed.   He believed her.  She’d be getting one for her next birthday, it’d already been planned.

“What do ya mean, ‘more time’?” Jackie asks once they’ve turned off the autopilot.

Pete shrugs.  “Whenever Rose’s gotten like… well, like that, she needs more time, typically, so she can cool down.  Think things through.”

Jackie laughs a little.  “Yeah, when she’s mad about that sort of stuff.  But not when it comes to him, you daft man.”  Then she sighs.  “She’s never taken any time when it comes to him.  Not once.  Not in the big picture.”

There’s a weight to her words, there.  A fact, both lovely and horrific, and Pete can feel his wife's certainty to his bones.  She sighs again, but it sounds happier this time.

“Oh Pete,” Jackie says.  “She’s going to be so happy.”  Then she leans over and kisses his cheek, smiling all the while.  “I’m going to get my daughter back.”

Pete remembers, again, the figure in the TARDIS so many years ago and also years to come, and her quicksilver grin, so different from the stern, guarded figure she cuts now.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” he says.  

Then he lifts his wife’s hand and kisses her knuckles gently, simply for the joy of it.

[ask-healthy-light]

With the tuned pendant ready to be brought to Sombra and Star, Celestia closed her eyes to tell the others the news, whereafter she asked them whether they were still all right, to which she received answers from Stygian and Light right away, promising her they were doing well; but though she waved goodbye to Luna and Nox but a little while ago, to her confusion, Celestia heard nothing from them.

At the Market, which had repopulated somewhat after the commotion caused by the little pink Diamond Dog, Luna and Nox failed to hear Celestia, as they were too focused on trying to find the Pup, when Nox felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright again; and although she still knew not why it happened, since she knew it was only when she was close to the small Pup, she took it as a sign.

Compared to last time, where they were some distance apart, the two Princesses were walking next to one another, looking around the stalls for the Pup, while also searching for goodies and gifts, and politely asking the townsfolk if they had seen any Diamond Dogs recently; but to their frustration, although Nox knew it was close, everybody admitted they had not seen it, and apologised with a bow.

Time and time again, Nox and Luna chuckled nervously as they helped every Pony they asked for help, and who gracefully apologised to them in turn, to stand upright, quietly and kindly asking them not to treat them as such; but they merely sighed silently after yet another Pony bowed again, although they just asked them to speak to them, like they would any other Pony, after helping them stand up.

But as the feeling in Nox's body continued to shift from high to low, eventually, they took a break for some time, and managed to find a stall selling crystalline roasted snacks and drinks; but while Nox happily ate and drank what she wanted with no difficulties, it took Luna a while before she got used to the toughness of the crystals, which actually were very tasty when she managed to eat them.

At one moment, when Nox had finished her drink, and was eagerly awaiting her Mother's permission to get another, she faintly heard Celestia's voice calling to her, and she wondered whether Luna heard it as well; but although she shook her head, when she finished eating her first bite of the strange food, Luna rubbed her jaw, and told Nox she did hear it, but not over the loudness of the crystals.

In turn, they closed their eyes and focused their minds, before they apologised to Celestia for not responding for so long, admitting they had been too focused on trying to find something, yet having no results to speak of; but Celestia kindly replied it was all right, and she was glad to hear from them, as she wanted to let them know that Starlight had created a pendant that could inhibit magic.

Now, the only challenge that laid ahead was to actually get it into Stygian and Starswirl's hooves, who could then offer it to Star and Sombra, whereafter, she hoped, they could finally be let out of that terribly dark underground prison; but they were not yet certain whether the crystal would also be able to block them from wielding the Shadow, and they knew not how they could safely try it out.

Before either of the two Princesses could answer, or even think about what they wanted to say, Luna heard a low growl from Nox, and was snapped out of her focus for a moment as she asked her Daughter if anything was wrong; but Nox admitted that she did not know, before she told her Mother that this had only happened thusfar when that little Pink Pup was close, and she told her to keep an eye out.

A small and bittersweet smile grew upon Luna's face as she nodded to Nox, whereafter she closed her eyes, and spoke to the others through the Void, telling them that she had a feeling they were close to finding what they sought; and after Luna told Celestia that she had but to ask for help, and Nox and she would be there as soon as they could, the two wished the others well and opened their eyes.

But as they got up to look around, a small, pink figure slowly emerged from beneath their seat…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing

[strawwritesfic]

Ryohei Sasgawa x Female!Reader: Cootie Catcher [Ch. 1]

Summary: You liked it better in the old days, when boys had cooties and didn't talk to you.

Challenge: “What to do, oh, What to do?” by crimsonxtearx5 on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (Friends to lovers; idiots to lovers; childhood friends; happily blended family; embarrassing parents; civilian!reader; bookworm!reader; opposites attract; Namimori Middle School; TYB!KHR Cast; no honorifics)

Relationships: Ryohei Sasagawa/Reader; Original Character/Original Character; Kyoko Sasagawa & Reader; Ryohei Sasgawa & Kyoko Sasgawa; Tsuna Sawada & Hayato Gokudera & Takeshi Yamamoto)

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Note: Book quotes taken from The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine, one of my all-time favorite books.

Chapter 1: Should Have Had a Staycation

“My tattered skirts caught fire, and I screamed. Vollys spat and put out the blaze. ‘Ah, you have a voice.’

I bit back another scream. Half my skirts were cinders, through which I saw bright-red skin. My left thigh roared with pain.

‘Now speak.’”

“[Name]?”

“‘When will you kill me?’”

“[Name].”

“‘Vollys wagged her head. ‘That is not a fit subject for conversation between us. It cannot—'”

“[Name]!”

“Huh?” Returning to the real world never failed to leave you disoriented. Only a few minutes before your mother shouted you name, you’d been lost in a world of princesses and child-eating dragons. Now you stood on the deck of a gently rocking cruise ship with an entirely different terror staring you down: Your mother’s glare. You remember all at once where you were—and that, unfortunately, this place had exactly zero dragons. “Did you say something, Mom?”

Your mother sighed and shook her head. “Young lady, need I remind you what you’re supposed to be doing?”

The honest answer was no, but you knew she wouldn’t want that answer. Your eyes drifted around the massive boat as you fought for time to let your brain catch up with you. Chlorinated water sloshed in the pool nearby. Tourists made their ways to seats while carrying trays piled with artery-clogging food. Sunlight beat down so hard from above that you had to squint to see even that much.

When your gaze found your mother again, her frown had grown larger.

“Relaxing?” you finally guessed.

“[Name].” Your mother dropped into the seat next to you. You could tell by the way she wrapped her arm around your shoulders that you were in for it. That the heat had turned her skin warm and sticky didn’t make you feel any better. Knowing that it would hurt her feelings if you scooted away from her, however, you remained motionless. “Yes, I want you to relax, but come on. You can read at home. Katsuro went to all the trouble to get you your own room so you could come along with us on this trip! Can’t you at least try to enjoy the cruise?”

And there it was: the “your new stepfather loves you” guilt-trip. Being used every hour or so only made this argument more ineffective as time went on.

“Enjoying things isn’t really my…thing, Mom.”

You ducked your head and fingered the page in your book. What other argument could you make? She didn’t want reminding that you hadn’t asked to come along on her and Katsuro’s honeymoon, or that you hadn’t wanted to come along on her and Katsuro’s honeymoon in the first place. Fortunately, this thought didn’t seem to occur to her.

“That’s not true,” she said. “I’ve seen you get excited with your friend…what’s his name…Ryoto?”

“Ryohei, Mom.”

You shifted back in your seat and lifted your book again. This was partially in the hopes that she would give up and go in search of another ice cream come, and partially to hide your rolling eyes. Trust your mother to constantly forget the name of the one best friend you’d had since the beginning of middle school.

“That’s the one! The Sasagawa boy. You always seem excited when he comes over after a soccer match.”

“Boxing, Mom.”

“Right, right. Oh, Katsuro!”

“Hey!” Katsuro himself plopped down on your other side, and his arm joined your mother’s around your shoulders.

You gave him a watery smile, or as much of one as you could muster. Didn’t they know they were slowly boiling you like a frog?

“How are my two favorite girls?” he asked.

“Great!” your mom chirped. God, she was so embarrassing. You’d have thought finally marrying the man of her dreams would make her act a little more her age, but so far you had had no such luck.

“Fine,” you answered. Honestly, though, all you wanted right now was for the two of them to go away so you could get back to your book.

“That’s wonderful!” Katsuro threw his arms up and, much to your relief, got up. “Because guess what?”

Your mom squirmed happily. “What?”

“I got us a trip inland for some zip lining!”

“Oh, my gosh!” Your mom practically squealed as she shook your shoulders. Your book fell off its perch on your lap and landed with a soggy thunk on the slat flooring. “That’s so exciting! Isn’t that exciting, [Name]?”

Both she and Katsuro grinned expectantly down at you. You forced yet another smile as you bent to retrieve your paperback before it got too wet. “The best.”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s go! We leave in ten minutes! Come on!”

“Yay!” A quick ruffle of your hair, and your mom took off after him.

You shook your head. You didn’t dislike Katsuro, but hanging out with her and him at the same time felt more like babysitting than family-bonding time. You could understand why they were head over heels for each other, but you’d rather they just let you stay in your room and read. Socializing wasn’t exactly your forte.

By the time you made it downstairs to the ship’s exit, a long line of day-trippers already stood waiting for permission to leave the boat. In the center of it all, of course, were your parents.

“[Name]!” They waved as soon as you appeared. You made a beeline for them despite the grumbling of those behind.

“Katsuro forgot his backpack,” your mom said upon your arrival. “Could you stand in line for two minutes while we run back to the room and get it?”

“Sure.”

“That’s my girl!” The two of them stepped out of line. Your mom flashed a smile at you before she disappeared, apparently having forgotten the most important bit, because she shouted over her shoulder, “And try to talk to some of the other kids, okay, honey? Don’t pick up your book again!”

After that stunningly kind reminder, she and Katsuro both vanished. You looked around the crowded area. No one looked to be about your age, and those that didn’t seem like someone that would want to talk to you. Only a few screaming toddlers toddled about, but other than that, you couldn’t see any children. Well, this was a honeymoon cruise, but far be it from your mother to listen to that line of reasoning when you were arguing for staying in Namimori on your own.

So far be it from you to listen to her line of reasoning about being social. A quick look at the glass elevators showed Katsuro and your mother already busy making out on the way up. There was no telling if they’d be back in time to leave. Your money was on probably not. Instead of skulking off somewhere to hide like you wanted to, you simply dug around in your backpack until your fingers found your damp book again. You’d hardly found your place again when an overly-chipper ship worker bounded up to the front of the group to perform some sort of cheerleading routine as she spoke.

“Alright, everybody! We’re going to be opening the door in ten minutes! But before we do, there are some rules we need to go through!”

You’d already stopped paying attention. Her words became nothing but a low buzz in your ears. You peeled the wet page away from where you’d left off, and began to read once more.

“[Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame]!”

Shrieking, you threw your book in the direction of the sudden noise. The source of that noise easily blocked your projectile. Your heart pounded inside your rib cage as you watched your poor, soggy projectile, slip out of sight. Only once it vanished from sight did you think to find out who it was that had screamed your name so hard your ears still hurt.

“Hey, [Name]!” said the boy.

You stared, then blinked, then blinked some more. Standing right in front of you was a muscular young man with short, silver hair and the widest grin you’d ever seen. But surely, surely it wasn’t who you thought it was. What were the odds of ending up on vacation with someone from school? Especially this particular someone?

“Ryohei?” you said.

He laughed and clapped your back. The force propelled you forward a few feet—not that he noticed. “I thought that was you, [Name]! When Kyoko saw someone with [color] hair and her nose buried in a book, I knew!”

“Yeah.” You took several wobbly steps back toward him. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re on an extreme family vacation!” he shouted. You didn’t even wince; two years with Ryohei had probably damaged your eardrums for good. “I was extremely surprised to see you! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, Mom and Katsuro just got married…” Now you winced. Ryohei already knew that. He’d been your guest to the wedding, even if the pair of you had spent more time eating than paying attention to the ceremony.

“And?”

“It’s their…honeymoon…”

“Oh! Right! How extremely awesome of them to bring you along!”

“Yeah,” you said, because there was no way that Ryohei of all people would understand how much you didn’t want to be there. Then something even worse occurred to you: “Wait. Ryohei, you’re not going–”

“Zip lining? Of course I am! It’s an extreme sport!”

You were pretty sure it wasn’t, but there was no need to burst his bubble.

“Why? Are you going zip lining?”

“Katsuro signed us up.”

“Where are your parents? I should give them an extreme congratulations for getting married!”

“I don’t know,” you answered weakly. The one time you’d like them there to save you from this mortification, they weren’t there. How very typical. “They went up the elevators and I don’t think they’re coming back.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I saw them…” For some reason you could not bear the thought of telling Ryohei that you’d caught your mother and Katsuro with their tongues in each other’s mouths. Strange. Normally you would say it anyway and laugh off an explanation when your friend voiced his confusion. All you could do manage just then was shaking your head. “Just intuition, I guess.”

“That’s great! Kyoko always says that women have an extreme intuition! I’m glad to see that yours is developing!”

“Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!”

The two of you stared at each other in mutual silence. Ryohei’s expectant grin did not fade one bit. Meanwhile, you continued to shift awkwardly from foot to foot. Why was Ryohei being here making you so nervous? You didn’t know the answer, but it was clear to you that it was time to bail.

“Well, I guess I better go make sure they’re okay. Have fun zip lining!”

Without waiting for him to respond, you turned around and attempted to force your way through the now-moving crowd. Something large and warm wrapped around your wrist and pulled you backward before you could get very far. The force of the yank upset your balance, and you flailed desperately to avoid falling to the ground and getting trampled.

Instead of the floor, however, you hit Ryohei’s chest.

“Hey, I have an extreme plan!” he said.

Did he see your obvious blush as you pushed off of him? You busied yourself pulling at the clingy tank top and shorts you wore over your swimsuit so that he wouldn’t get a chance to notice your face. “Plan? What plan? We don’t need a plan!” And your voice didn’t need to go so high either!

“Sure we do! You wanted to go zip lining, right?”

“Not re—”

“So you should come with me!”

“What?” No! No! Really, I should go find my parents and—”

“Call them!”

“Eh?”

“Call them!” He shoved his cell phone at you until you lifted your hands to take it from him. “Just ask if you can come! Your mom is extremely cool! I’m sure she’ll let you come on this extreme trip!”

“But…” You trailed away, then heaved a sigh and dialed your mother’s number. With Ryohei looking down at you like that, so excited, you just couldn’t tell him no. His grin widened as you lifted the phone to your ear. It rang six times, but just as it was about to go to voicemail, someone answered.

 “Hello?”

“Mom? Are you okay?” The dreamy quality of the female voice was throwing you off.

“O-Oh! [Name]!” Something that sounded an awful lot like bedsheets rustled in the background. “What’s the matter?”

 “We’re starting to set out. Where are you?”

“Oh! The trip! I’m sorry, honey, we won’t be able to make it!”

“Why?”

“Katsuro is…sick!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said in a tone of forced patience. “Is there anything I can bring up to you guys?”

“No! You just go find something to do and have fun. I’ll come find you later, okay?”

“Okay.” Ryohei flashed you two thumbs up. No way were you getting out of this. “Hey, Mom, is it okay if I go zip lining anyway? You know, without you and Katsuro?”

“Well…I don’t know how I feel about you going that far by yourself. You don’t have a cell phone. What if something happens?”

And she thought you were calling her how? “I ran into Ryohei. He says I could come with him.”

“That’s different.” Oh no. She sounded thrilled. “Have fun, honey!”

Before the word “bye” even formed on your lips, you heard the telltale beep of your own mother hanging up on you. You hit the end button yourself and, defeated, look up at Ryohei.

“So?” he asked, hands clenched up by his chest.

It pained you to admit it a little, but “I can go.”

“Extreme! And it’s our turn to leave! Come on!”

The last you saw of your book was it being trodden to a pulp as Ryohei tugged you down the rampart.

[laughableillusions]

I am autism. I’m visible in your children, but if I can help it, I am invisible to you until it’s too late. I know where you live. And guess what? I live there too. I hover around all of you. I know no color barrier, no religion, no morality, no currency. I speak your language fluently. And with every voice I take away, I acquire yet another language. I work very quickly. I work faster than pediatric aids, cancer, and diabetes combined And if you’re happily married, I will make sure that your marriage fails. Your money will fall into my hands, and I will bankrupt you for my own self-gain. I don’t sleep, so I make sure you don’t either. I will make it virtually impossible for your family to easily attend a temple, birthday party, or public park without a struggle, without embarrassment, without pain. You have no cure for me. Your scientists don’t have the resources, and I relish their desperation. Your neighbors are happier to pretend that I don’t exist—of course, until it’s their child. I am autism. I have no interest in right or wrong. I derive great pleasure out of your loneliness. I will fight to take away your hope. I will plot to rob you of your children and your dreams. I will make sure that every day you wake up you will cry, wondering who will take care of my child after I die? And the truth is, I am still winning, and you are scared. And you should be. I am autism. You ignored me. That was a mistake. And to autism I say: I am a father, a mother, a grandparent, a brother, a sister. We will spend every waking hour trying to weaken you. We don’t need sleep because we will not rest until you do. Family can be much stronger than autism ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated by you, nor will the love and strength of my community. I am a parent riding toward you, and you can push me off this horse time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on, and ride on with the message. Autism, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing with. You forget the spirit of mothers, and daughters, and fathers and sons. We are Qatar. We are the United Kingdom. We are the United States. We are China. We are Argentina. We are Russia. We are the Eurpoean Union. We are the United Nations. We are coming together in all climates. We call on all faiths. We search with technology and voodoo and prayer and herbs and genetic studies and a growing awareness you never anticipated. We have had challenges, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak the only language that matters: love for our children. Our capacity to love is greater than your capacity to overwhelm. Autism is naïve. You are alone. We are a community of warriors. We have a voice. You think because some of our children cannot speak, we cannot hear them? That is autism’s weakness. You think that because my child lives behind a wall, I am afraid to knock it down with my bare hands? You have not properly been introduced to this community of parents and grandparents, of siblings and friends and schoolteachers and therapists and pediatricians and scientists. Autism, if you are not scared, you should be. When you came for my child, you forgot: you came for me. Autism, are you listening?

[valdestrate]

I've started working at a certain thrift store known for its values. I was texting my mother about how I might not be cut off out for people pleasing retail and people yes people, not just therapists, have been telling me to write/ keep my writing more. So I decided to save this text and I'm not sure what to do with it so I'm saving it here. If by some reason another person ever reads this I would appreciate any character building you can give me!

The main example of why I'm not cut out for this. The Tardilious! This lady that came to donate today who passed right by the line up, stopped in the middle of the enter/exit lane and got out of her car. I told her she couldn't stop in the road but I'd pause traffic in our unloading lane and she could cut in quick. She gave me this smarmy "the guy ahead of me did '' and I said I told him it wasn't allowed either. He had one item in his hands already so he threw it to me over his truck and immediately left. So she gets back in her car And pulls into the area that I asked her to. Well then she just stays there in her vehicle and I kinda like walk over to the window to look at her. She's on her phone tap tap tapping life away and I'm busy. If she's not ready, I keep moving, to the vehicle behind her, see if any of them need a hand with anything. I recognize they are more easy going people as soon as they comment how busy I look and they're fine unloading into the bin themselves. 90% of the time most people do. Either it's a two person job, they're in a hurry/trying to hurry for my sake, or it's an old person dealing with a awkward, heavy, or a large load, but people like showing they're doing something. Maybe they feel their good dead or "charity" doesn't mean as much if they pull up with a bunch of garbage AND sit on their assess while a minimum wage employee frantically unloads their vehicle. I dunno but long story longer while they unloaded into the bin I turn my attention to the lady ahead of them that was on her phone but now was out of her car walking towards her trunk. I have a bullshit meter that's fairly low. My fuse has always been short but I make Buddha lament in sackcloth and ashes his inadequacy of patience compared to mine so it usually stays pretty balanced between the two and she had not blown my bullshit fuse. Yet. So I start with my apolowing (apologize explaining, not to be confused with Apolloing, which is blowing up. Usually in space on live TV) and she cuts me off "do you guys not go in order?".

Bullshit meter climbing.

"Pardon me" I am genuinely confused at what she possibly could mean

"The sign in front of me says to wait on your vehicle and an attendant will come do it"

Right! I forgot about that sign. But it doesn't say anywhere that we will just start unloading your vehicle, just that we will come AND ask if you we can help

"Yes of course Miss! I tried but your window was up and you were busy on your phone" I happily and confidently respond

"Whatever"

She throws back like verbal pancake covered in syrup

"Well is there anything I can do for you now? Can I help you unload?"

Pancake --dodged

"No, I can do it myself"

She throws out to the crowd of Facebook followers in her mind like Rocky might throw out to the crowd in response to his challenger telling him he can't. That is if Rocky was about a beauty pagant instead of boxing and played by Honey booboos mom instead Sylvester Stallone.

She immediately whispers useless under her breath. I cheerily say

"Well in that case how about a coupon?"

Pancake? Eaten

Coals of fire? Smells like burning hair

She snaps around with her hands outstretched, sees my big grin hiding my sweaty flushed face and the line of traffic, half a dozen people unloading their own stuff looking at this failed suburban mom in the very unflatteringly horizontal bright striped shirt berating a thrift store grunt working for a charity after she just cut in front of everyone. She pauses, stammers a "no thank you" and takes off.

I'm immediately back to work. Tell the whole thing to my supervisor later and he doesn't seem bothered. I feel like I need write a book about the different types of people I meet dropping off stuff. Need to create classes to assign them to, highlight the general different types and differences/nuances, and combine that with individual stories and "highlights"

[rose-demica]

I have made an important, hopefully life/career altering decision. (Though tbh I think it's going to be a lot of pain and agony for a year or two while I try learn and get used to it).

From now on, I will only be working on 3.5/4.5 projects at a time. I will not be jumping about between projects as my heart desires. I must finish the old project before I move onto a new one. (Of course I am allowed to have new ideas for both new and old projects, but I will write the outline/overview of the idea and put it aside for when I next work on that project).

The 3.5/4.5 projects will be, one film script, one original novel idea, and one fanfiction. The .5 is for small things like prompts or drabbles. BUT MUST BE SMALL! And the maybe 4 is for any work I have to do for Uni. I'm not sure whether to count it as a number, or say Uni projects are excluded because I have to do them or else I'll fail.

So, I guess I should introduce the current projects I'll be working on for the forseeable future.

Film: Laura Marano/Pop-star film.

I say Laura Marano because she's who I envision as the lead actress currently, however she is not associated with the film in any way other than inspiring the main character. (Yes, I hope that if its made she's offered right of first refusal).

A young-adult / early adult romance film. Daniel, a blind man, and his guide dog, Holly, go to see one of his favourite pop stars, Katherine Hawke at Vector Arena in Auckland, where she is doing 3 days of shows. Daniel is sitting waiting for the line to die down when he hears a commotion. A wheelchair bound girl and her mother's tickets aren't working. Daniel kindly offers them his two tickets, deciding to listen to the concert from outside. Katherine, having snuck outside for some fresh air, see's this, and strikes up a conversation, while posing as a Vector Arena employee. She decides to sneak him into the show. After the show, she sneaks out to see him again, and he invites her on a day out the next day. She accepts, and they meet up the next day. The duo - and Holly have a fun packed day out and about. But when they return, Katherine's true identity is revealed, and the pair are ripped apart. Can their fledgling romance survive? Or is Katherine's stardom too great of a challenge?

Original Novel Idea:

Honestly haven't picked one right now. I haven't been working on an original novel for the past month or so. When one strikes my fancy I'll let you know.

Fanfiction:

Despite having ideas and motivation for my Scorpion Fic, I think I'm going to stick with and finish my unnamed Ouran WIP. I recently read the manga and had an outpouring of ideas that I should be able to work on, and use to finish the story.

So I'm going to theme my asks and what I talk about around these 3 works, that doesn't mean you can't message/ask about others, I will quite happily talk about any of my projects!! And if there is anything you'd like me to work on and finish after these projects let me know! I know there is a lot of interest in my slow burn CDC fic, so that might be my next fanfiction project, but I won't know for a long while yet... unless I miraculously finish the Ouran WIP soon.

[jupitermelichios]

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

[trashboatboy]

I am autism 🌈♾️.

I’m visible 👀 in your children 👦, but if I can help it, I am invisible 🕵️ to you until it’s too late 🔪.

I know 🧠 where you live 🏠.

And guess 🤷 what? I live 🏠 there too.

I hover 🕴️ around all of you.

I know no color barrier 🌈, no religion 🛐, no morality 🦸, no currency💲.

I speak 🗣️ your language 🈵 fluently.

And with every voice 🙊 I take away, I acquire 💁 yet another language 🈵.

I work very quickly 🏃💨.

I work faster 🏃than pediatric aids ☠️, cancer ⚰️, and diabetes 🥀 combined

And if you’re happily married 👰 , I will make sure that your marriage fails ❌.

Your money 💵 will fall into my hands 🤲, and I will bankrupt 🏦 you for my own self-gain 💪.

I don’t sleep 🙅🛌, so I make sure you don’t 🙅 either.

I will make it virtually impossible 🚫 for your family to easily attend a temple 🕍, birthday party 🎂, or public park 🏞️ without a struggle 🏋️, without embarrassment 🤦, without pain 🤕.

You have no cure 💉 for me.

Your scientists 👩‍🔬 don’t have the resources, and I relish 🎉 their desperation 😈. Your neighbors 🏘️ are happier to pretend 🦄 that I don’t exist—of course, until it’s their child 👦.

I am autism 🌈♾️. I have no interest in right ✅ or wrong ❎. I derive great pleasure 🥳 out of your loneliness 🙍.

I will fight 👊 to take away your hope 🙏. I will plot to rob 💰 you of your children 👦 and your dreams 💭. I will make sure that every day you wake up ⏰ you will cry 😭, wondering who will take care of my child 👦 after I die 💀?

And the truth is, I am still winning 🏆, and you are scared 😱. And you should be 🔪.

I am autism 🌈♾️. You ignored 🚮 me. That was a mistake 🔪.

And to autism 🌈♾️ I say:

I am a father 👨‍👦, a mother 🤱, a grandparent 👴, a brother 👦, a sister 👧.

We will spend every waking 👁️ hour trying to weaken 😓 you.

We don’t need sleep 🙅🛌 because we will not rest 😴 until you do.

Family can be much stronger 💪 than autism 🌈♾️ ever anticipated, and we will not be intimidated 😨 by you, nor will the love and strength 💪 of my community.

I am a parent 👩‍👦 riding toward you, and you can push me off this horse 🐎 time and time again, but I will get up, climb back on 🧗, and ride 🏇 on with the message 💌.

Autism 🌈♾️, you forget who we are. You forget who you are dealing 👊 with. You forget the spirit of mothers 🤱, and daughters 👧, and fathers 👨‍👦 and sons 👦.

We are Qatar 🇶🇦. We are the United Kingdom 🇬🇧. We are the United States 🇺🇲. We are China 🇨🇳. We are Argentina 🇦🇷. We are Russia 🇷🇺. We are the European Union 🇪🇺. We are the United Nations 🇺🇳.

We are coming together 👥 in all climates . We call on all faiths 🛐. We search 🔍 with technology 👩‍💻 and voodoo 🙌 and prayer 🙏 and herbs 🌿 and genetic studies 🧬 and a growing awareness 🕵️ you never anticipated 👊.

We have had challenges 🥊, but we are the best when overcoming them. We speak 🗣️ the only language 🈵 that matters: love for our children 👦.

Our capacity to love ♥️ is greater than your capacity to overwhelm 👿.

Autism 🌈♾️ is naïve. You are alone 🏝️. We are a community of warriors 👊. We have a voice 📢.

You think because some of our children cannot speak 🙊, we cannot hear 👂them? That is autism’s 🌈♾️ weakness.

You think that because my child 👦 lives behind a wall 🧱, I am afraid 😨 to knock it down with my bare hands 👊?

You have not properly been introduced 💁 to this community of parents 👨‍👩‍👦 and grandparents 👵, of siblings 👧 and friends 💑 and schoolteachers 👩‍🏫 and therapists 👨‍⚕️ and pediatricians 👩‍⚕️ and scientists 👨‍🔬.

Autism 🌈♾️, if you are not scared 😱, you should be 🔪.

When you came for my child 👦, you forgot: you came for me 🧍.

Autism 🌈♾️, are you listening 👂?