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anastasiaskywalker4 · 3 years

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MisterLuu

That is actually the best pairing DC can make out of Trinity aside Lois and Clark. Or Bruce

and Clark for that matter. They both fit Bruce well, though Diana is even more matched with

him. In fact she's the best match romantically for him out there. At least so far. Though

number of fanfiction and arts on the net would suggest that that spot is reserved for

Superman not Wonder Woman :D

Except maybe for Silver and Julie - all Batman's love interest are abusive and downright

toxic. Selina, Talia, Adrea, Jet. Because in terms of comics and not relationships it fits

Gotham mold. People just tend to forget it after rebirth run. Yeah the one that made Batman

impotent and unable to do anything without the Cat around. Exactly that one. And tend to

forget how terrible as human beings his lovers really are.

Going back to the point. Both Talia and Selina tried to kill him multiple times in the past, or

those close to him. Whatever right? Who wouldn't like a lover that tried to end you few times

over. Both assaulted him physically and emotionally. Repeatedly. Both scared his body and

his mind. Repeatedly. Both tried to seduce his wards (adopted sons if u like), just to get to

him. In Talia's case that was basically pedophilia. That's just sick and makes you want to

puke. Both are possessive bitches, Cat threatening his flings while they are in bed while

Talia, well Talia can even go as far as beheading (to her credit she was right with this one).

Both makes him a goddamn hypocrite. Both face no repercussions after a cold blooded

murder while at the same time he berates Diana like a dick when she came to look for his

friendship and support after Max incident. Difference is she had no choice while Selina or

Talia most certainly had. Great move Bats, hypocrite much? And most importantly they both

lie and betray him, and leave him. Over and over again. Again, that's a constant with Cat

and miss Al Ghul. Diana never showed any of those traits with any of her lovers.

Get any counselor or psychiatrist to read actual Bat love history throughout the decades

and they would be writing books on how disfuncional they are. For a love-hate dynamics

they work fine. Or for some adrenaline fueled sex, but that's it. Hell, he even banged Dinah

when they were on adrenaline high. It all has a clinical term. Trauma bonding. As opposed

to authentic bonding. Which he could have with WW, had even one of them tried.

They did not though. Out of fear of ruining their mutual respect and deep bond. In

pre-flashpoint it may have been a thing if Diana acted on it. Again, Diana, not Bruce, so cut

the crap on how he was deflecting her. He was in doubt, yeah, but clearly was ready to give

it a go. She was the one that got scared even though she was clearly had over bat hills in

love with him. Even Martian stated this to Supes. Pre Crisis ? Not really. Some flirting and

kissing, nothing more. Post-flashpoint, New 52 and Rebirth ? Also not, though DC like to

tease those two. Forever Evil gets a hint that Bruce feels more than friendship towards her,

much to Selina's dismay. And that goddamn tension when they got to spends decades

together in another realm. Mostly from Diana side again. But no. The real canon love that Diana had for Bruce was during pre-flashpoint, not counting alternative universes. And it

was so strong that it showed her loving him more than her mother and sisters. And her

lasso forced her to admit it when facing Mera. But Bruce was "dead" at that point. So yeah,

never acted upon this. Pity. You could see she regretted it.

Aside their comics history in canon universe, realistically speaking Diana is way more

similar to Bruce than Selina will ever be (or Talia for that matter). Even though at a the first

glance they are nothing alike. She's the light , he's the darkness. She believes in love and

trust, tries to see the good in everyone. He's cunning, distrustful and downright realistic to

her idealistic approach. She's honest and straight while he will not hesitate to lie or to use

violence to get results. And you know what? It makes for great couple chemistry and

tension. It may be a cliche, yeah, but Yin and Yang dynamics work. That's why Clark ends

up with Lois all the freaking time. Even on elseworlds he and Diana are a thing only after

Lois is out of the picture. But that's not the most important thing. Yin and Yang provides for

a tension yes, but it would never last in the long run. For a relationship you need also

something in common. And Bruce has that in spades with Diana.

They might be on opposite side of the spectrum but than you realize how much alike they

really are. They are both kindred spirits. Both born fighters, warriors at heart. Arguably two

of the best in the world. At least Diana is according to Batman. And judging by Wonder

Woman's choices in man that is a highly important trait to her. Both endlessly fighting for

others. Both have utmost respect and admiration for each other. Both tirelessly train to

make themselves physically and spiritually better. Constantly. And to make the other better.

Their sparring sessions are legendary. And heated. Both with a great heart and

compassion. I would argue that Bruce's compassion is even bigger than Diana's. Even

though their methods might differ they share the same goal, which he has with no other

woman. Both have the heart of a warrior and are pushed by the circumstances of their

upbringing to reach for impossible dreams. They are also two of the most stubborn and

obstinate people in DC universe. Both perfectly capable of operating solo, and yet both

performing the best in a team. And yes, Bats is a great team player. Both natural leaders

that other heroes follow without hesitation. Both selfless and able to sacrifice for those they

value, trust and love. None of the other Bat trollups have any of those traits. Not to mention

they emotionally and physically find the other highly attractive. One being a literal goddess

and the other perfect male specimen. As for Batman, his relationships tend to collapse due

to a lack of trust. He's either unwilling to bring his romantic partner fully into his world or he

can't bring himself to trust completely. While Selina got his trust now, it's recent

development. And a mistake judging by latest issues. Again. One would think he's smarter.

When it comes to Diana, he trusts her. Fully. She's not privy like BatClan is to his world, but

they aren't that close in mainstream DC. She's not a psycho with daddy issues or a violent

narcissist. List can go on. Selina on the other hand doesn't have that much in common with

Bruce than she has. Not even close. He loves her, yes. But I don't see Di leaving him

countless times over the choices he makes. Or lying, or betraying, or trying to sleep with

Dick to spite him or... you get the point. Though there is one thing that gives Kyle an edge.

Immortality. Diana won't die unless killed. It doesn't make for a great long term relationship

prospect. But then again, those are comics, and he's a goddamn Batman. He would find a

way :)

The thing is - there is no other woman that fits his world as much as Diana does. And Bat is

capable to loving deeply and going to great commitments with a special woman. He showed

it with Andrea, he showed it with Silver. Problem is he always got burned. Every time he let

his guard down and opened himself. And he would have to do it when it comes to Wonder

Woman. She deserves that. It's hard to imagine with current Bruce, but it is most definitely

possible. It would be harder than with an ex criminal or an assassin though. Because there

would be much more on the line. The other two would crawl back anyway if he messed it

up, Di wouldn't.

There is also another aspect to this outside comic universe. His partners tend to be minor

characters compared to WW. She has her own series, JL, JL dark and every major

crossover/event happening in DC. They don't. And so does Batman. Both are one of the

most popular DC characters.

Besides changes to Bruce writing that are needed to make this work (cough.. pre flashpoint

Bats... cough), it would require fitting it to their distinctive titles. And frankly Diana can easily

function without any love interest and generate money. It's even easier that way. It fits her

as an independent, strong female character. Arguably most iconic of them all. And It's most

certainly easier for DC with a tease here and there than an actual WonderBat in mainstream.

Maisterluu wrote this is a comment on a YouTube video which is dow in the comments. They make really good points for ww and bats. No hate to other DC ships with ww and bats.

#batman x wonder woman #wonderbat #dc comics #dc animated movies #dceu verse

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deans-baby-momma · 3 years

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Wounded Hearts 2

Summary: When John Winchester leaves his two high school-aged sons in a motel in Fairfax, IN while he goes off on a hunt, they both make friends. What happens after they have to suddenly leave when John comes to fetch them. Will those friendships endure? Does Dean leave a piece of his soul behind?

Word Count: 3,408

A/N: This is a sequel to Past Haunts, but it’s mostly what happened in the thirteen years between high school and when Sam and Dean return to take care of a haunting in their old stomping grounds of Truman High. The first couple of chapters will be mainly Dean’s POV and then after that, each chapter will switch from Dean’s POV to Rebecca’s POV. I will label them appropriately.

Rebecca’s POV

The walk home is kind of uncomfortable. My crotch is sensitive and tender and these jeans are not helping at all. I think over what just happened. I just gave my virginity to Dean Winchester. The boy who came out of nowhere and walked the school halls like he owned the place. I briefly thought about how just last week he was all about Amanda Heckling, the popular girl, the head cheerleader. Had he fucked her too? They had seemed hot and heavy for a minute but then, just as quickly as he showed up, they were over and he was proclaiming to the halls that he was a hero. Had he taken Amanda's virginity too?

I shake my head and huff a laugh. No way was Amanda Heckerling a virgin. Not since freshman year at least. She had been caught with her pants down, literally, with Justin Scott in her bedroom. So, no Dean definitely hadn't taken Amanda's innocence.

As soon as I get home I rush to the bedroom to change out of my- now damp from the remnants of what had transpired between me and Dean- panties. Thankfully it's just my cum filling my underwear; Dean had wrapped it up before he fucked me.

I change quickly, wadding my ruined panties into a ball and stuffing them to the bottom of the hamper. My mom yells that dinner is ready and I pause, taking a breath and praying that neither she nor dad can sense the change in me. I'm no longer their innocent little girl but a woman, an adult capable of safely fornicating.

I can feel their stares, hear their whispers as I walk to my locker. Does everyone know? Are all my classmates aware that I am no longer pure and virginal Rebecca Quentin. Do they know that I oh so easily gave it up to Dean Winchester? Or am I just imagining it all?

I grab my books and sign in then take my regular seat in Mrs. Meadows' English Lit class. My heart is pounding in my ears, knowing that shortly Dean would walk through the door. Would he sit beside me, like he did Amanda? Would he ask me to be his girlfriend? I mean, we've already done the deed so that's the next step, right? Ok, so our steps are a little misconstrued but so what?

I hear him before I see him, his heavy army-style boots stomping down the hallway. As soon as he enters the room, my breath catches in my throat. I'd always thought Dean was good-looking but now? Damn is he sexy as hell! I can't help but turn away to hide the blush on my face as I remember his touch and how it felt to have him inside me. My heart drops as he passes by the empty desk beside me to take his seat at the back of the room. Dammit, maybe it wasn't as special to him as it had been to me. Maybe he was used to defiling girls and then acting as if they didn't exist. As Mrs. Meadows calls for attention I vow to confront him at lunch. Hopefully we can have a quiet discussion and not cause a scene.

By the time the bell rings for lunch, I am a nervous wreck. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to address the obvious elephant in the school. Dean Winchester conned his way into my pants; pretending to be a gentleman and noble when in all reality he was a fraud, a hustler. Watching him with his little brother yesterday, how he had made sure Sam was well-fed and taken care of had to have been a ruse! Just a way to get me to let my guard down and then he struck when that window of opportunity opened; like a snake, a conniving devious snake.

Deciding I can't civilly accost Dean, I make my way to the vending machines. I'll just go to the motel after school and talk to him then. I just hope he hasn't duped his next victim there. That's what I feel like; a victim, a casualty of the trickster that is Dean Winchester. I scan the lunchroom as I enter but see no sign of Dean or his brother Sam. I sigh in relief as I don't think I could handle being ignored again. I sit at a table in the corner and open my bags of chips.

The rest of my classes were dull and lackluster. I just couldn't concentrate on anything any of my teachers were saying. The concept that Dean was ignoring and avoiding me was breaking me, was breaking my heart and soul. I wanted to know why. Why did he choose me? Why did he have to defile what could have been an incredible friendship? Maybe even a wonderful and dare I say loving relationship. Did getting the privilege of saying he slept with me mean more to him than that? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got until I had furiously scribbled a hole into the paper on my desk. I was going to that motel after school and finding out!

When the last bell sounds, I gather my books and head to my locker. I look morosely at locker #214, the one Dean had been assigned. It was only a few down from mine. I hadn't seen him all day; not since he so openly ignored me during first period. It is painfully obvious he was avoiding me. Well I am going to put a stop to that. I march out of the building and head down the same path we had walked yesterday, straight to the place it all went downhill, room 7 at the Motel Monroe.

A few hours later

I knock on the door and wait. And the longer I wait, the more upset I get. How dare Dean ignore and avoid me and act like I don't exist in his world. Yesterday, he acted as if he made me believe he was interested in being my friend, if not more and today I'm nobody?

I'm not a nobody. I get perfect grades and in less than a year I will be moving away, going to college and in a few short years graduate with a master's in psychology and on my way to becoming one of the best behavioral counselors in the country. I have plans and dreams; I'm not just some girl to pass the time with.

After a few minutes and another knock, there is still no answer. I step to the window to see inside but the curtain is closed tight. 'Oh no you don't, Dean Winchester,' I think silently. 'You are not hiding from me. We are going to hash this out like adults.' I walked toward the manager's office to find out if there is a way to get him to open the door. Instead I find devastating news when the manager tells me, "They cleared out about 3 hours ago."

I walk away from the motel, the place I lost my virginity in with tears threatening to roll down my face. Will I ever see him again?

Eight weeks later

Time is a fickle thing. Some days it seems to rush by while others it seems to just stand still and turn stagnant.

After finding out that the Winchesters had left town, I turned my attention back to my studies. I only had a few more months until I'd be graduating high school and moving on to bigger, brighter things.

Thanksgiving had come and gone and now we are all hurtling toward Christmas and the almost two weeks off from school. The whole school is abuzz with excitement and enthusiasm for the break. Me? I am just going through the motions. I had gotten ill a few days ago, puking my guts up and just feeling horrible. Whatever it is, I wish it would just run its course already. I am tired of feeling weak and feeble.

Today is the school's last day before Christmas break and I was just looking forward to being able to lay around and let the flu or pneumonia or whatever gets its claws into me. Something grabs my attention and I look at the calendar hanging beside my desk. A big old red circle is around the 4th, the day I should've started my period. I grab the calendar and turn it back to November and see another big red circle. Two months. Two missed periods. And I know that they are missed because every time I start I always draw a line through the circle and these two circles have no lines. What the hell? I try to remember having my period in November but I am coming up blank. The last period I remember was in October, the first part of October. I remember because it was right after my Mom's birthday. I turn the page and yep, October 5th has a circle with a line through it. So why didn't I mark through November's and December's? I scan through the month of October and my eyes land on the 14th.

The day I spent with the Winchesters, the day I lost my virginity to Dean, the day that…..oh fuck. Oh god no!

At school, I can’t concentrate on anything. My calculus teacher calls on me and I don’t hear her. The words ‘I’m pregnant’ keep repeating over and over in my head. I can’t be pregnant. I only had sex once. But once is all it takes, I tell myself.

I get through the rest of the day, barely, and by the time the last bell rings I am a nervous wreck. I know what I need to do. I have to go to the pharmacy and buy a test. But everyone knows everyone in this town and I know old Mrs. Wilson will tell my parents that she sold me a pregnancy test.

Walking into the drugstore I am praying and hoping that Mrs. Wilson possibly has the day off and someone else is working her shift but no such luck. As soon as I walk in she sees me and smiles. I return the smile and walk down the farthest aisle from the one I need. As I trek slowly through the store, pretending that I am looking at different things, I come up with a plan. I’ll just take one off the shelves and ask to use the bathroom.

When I get to the correct aisle I feel overwhelmed. There are so many! Different brands, different processes. I find one that looks easy enough; what is more easier than just peeing on a stick? Stuffing the box in my bag, I head toward the front of the store, grabbing a package of maxi pads on my way.

“Hello Rebecca,” Mrs. Wilson greets me. “How are you today?”

“Hi Mrs. Wilson. I’m good. Listen, is there anyway I can, uh...use the facilities here?” I ask as I show her the maxi pads. She nods in understanding and points me toward the bathroom.

I quickly shut and lock the door and lean against it, taking a breath. ‘Come on Rebecca. You can do this.’ I think to myself. ‘It might even be negative. Could be something completely different wrong with me.’

I pull the box out of my bag and step toward the toilet. I know I don’t have that much time before Mrs. Wilson comes to check on me. Pulling the test out of the box, I quickly read the directions.

1. Pee on stick

2. Wait 5 minutes.

3. Two lines means pregnant; one line means not pregnant.

Ok simple enough. I do as instructed and place the stick on the sink. This is going to be the longest five minutes in history!

How can something so inconsequential as a piece of plastic change your whole life? Plastic is nothing but synthetic polymers that can be molded into whatever is needed. In this instance, this piece of plastic was sculpted into a thin white stick with a window on the end. And in that window was life-altering news. Two pink lines.

I stare at the test for what seemed like forever. I’m pregnant. I am only a few months away from turning 18, graduating high school and going off to college. Yet, here I am carrying Dean Winchester’s illegitimate child. I place my hand on my still flat stomach and look in the mirror. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper to my reflection. I didn’t even realize I am crying until I see the tears streaming down my face.

Hearing Mrs. Wilson heading my way, I hurry and wipe my face clean and pick up the positive test, sticking it in my pocket. I open the package of pads and take one out and cram the unused one into the bottom of the trash can. At least, that way it will look like I used one and not raise any suspicions with the old busybody.

After paying for the one item I won’t be needing for a while, I leave the store and head home. How am I going to tell my parents that I’m pregnant? Of course they're going to want to know everything. Well, maybe not everything. They know how babies are made, they have me after all. But they are going to ask a million questions. Who’s the father? Where is he now? Does he know? Is he going to be a man and step up? I only know the answer to one of those. Dean Winchester is the father. That’s all I know. He used me and then up and disappeared the very next day.

I get home and am relieved that both my parents aren’t home yet. I have a few more minutes to come to terms with the fact of my situation myself. I run upstairs to my room and fall onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. While I am alone, I decide to go ahead and get it out. The anger, the frustration, the heartache.

I am 17 years old, a senior in high school and pregnant by a boy who split in no time afterwards. The tears come instantaneously. How am I going to be able to fulfill my dream of going to college and becoming a psychologist? I can’t be raising a kid while going through years of study at Harvard to get my bachelor’s plus an internship. By the time I’d be done with all that my child is going to be at least 10 years old.

Damn him! Damn him and his boyish charms and his mesmerizing green eyes and his sexy as hell body.

“Damn you Dean Winchester! I hate you. I wish I’d never met you,” I scream into the fluffy cushion. “I hope wherever you are that your dick falls off and you can’t do this to some other poor girl!”

Fuck, is all I can think. How many girls had he done this to? How many illegitimate babies did he have? He had said his family traveled a lot so there were probably girls all over who were pregnant or had bared his offspring.

"Fuck," I sigh. "If I get an STD because of him I'll hunt him down and kill him," I growled. I begin punching the pillow, pretending it is Dean’s face. I can’t believe him. How dare he take advantage of me like that!

But then I realize, he didn’t take advantage; I clearly gave him exactly what he wanted. ‘Dumbass! I am such a dumbass. I walked right into his trap and didn’t even understand what I was getting into. I was so dumbfounded and surprised that he wanted to talk to and hang out with me that I just followed him along like a lost puppy. And then I gave him the one thing that I could never get back. All because of a few words and some attention. How much of an idiot am I?’

Shaking my head at my stupidity I head to the bathroom to clean off my face and get prepared to confess to my parents. They are going to be so disappointed in me. It’s going to break their hearts. I’ve been talking about going to Harvard and becoming a psychologist since I was in middle school and now that is just a pipe dream. It won’t ever come true now.

I don’t have much of an appetite so I just push my food around on my plate. I feel bad about it because Mom had rushed home from work and went straight to cooking and now my stomach is all twisted up and I can’t eat. It looks like they are about to be finished with their dinner so I decided no better time than the present.

“Mom? Dad?” I begin. “We need to talk.”

“What is it sweetie?” My dad says as he gets up to put his plate in the sink. “Did you get a C in class or something?” he turns back to the table with a jesting grin on his face. “You know you don’t have to be completely perfect in everything.”

Mom and Dad have been telling me for years that I was pushing myself too hard. That it doesn't matter to them if I get straight A’s or not as long as I don’t fail. But I wanted to prove to them, and myself, that I could. And so far I had; I am only a few credits shy of graduating high school with honors.

“Oh, I’m not perfect,” I tell him, looking down at my hands in my lap. “Far from it actually. I-uh-I have some not so good news. You might even call it upsetting news.”

My parents both look at me, perplexed. Mom speaks up first, “What is it Rebecca? Are you dying? Do you have cancer or something?”

Leave it up to Mom to think about a worse-case scenerio. Of course in her mind, the most distressing would be that I only had a few months to live. Which, in this case, it’s kinda true. A few more months and life as I know it is over.

I pull the positive pregnancy test out of my hoodie pocket and lay it in the middle of the table. Clear as day, anyone can see what it is. My dad suddenly sits down and puts his head in his hands and Mom…well, Mom stands up, looks at me with pity and walks out of the dining room. A few minutes later, I hear their bedroom door slam shut.

The commotion brings Dad out of his stupor and he looks up at me. “How did this happen, Rebecca?” I quirk an eyebrow at him at the absurdity of his question. “I mean, I know how it happened. When?”

“Back in October. I hung out with this guy and his little brother and we watched a movie and ate pizza and popcorn. After the movie was over, his brother wanted to go to the arcade and it left me and Dean in the room, alone. One thing just led to another.” I finish with a shrug of my shoulders.

And just like I assumed, Dad begins badgering me with questions. “Who is he? Does he know about the baby yet? Is he going to step up and take care of it and you?”

I sigh before I answer. “His name is Dean. Dean Winchester. No, he doesn’t know and probably never will. He and his brother were staying in the motel across town while their dad was working. He’s gone now. Left the day after. I don’t know how to get in touch with him.”

Dad and I sat there in silence after I told him about Dean and how he was no longer around. I can see the steps of processing Dad is going through on his face. At first he is angry, livid even. Then he is just mad. But what breaks my heart is when my dad looks at me and all I can see is disappointment.

I feel like such a failure. I failed my parents and myself the moment I allowed Dean to come into my life. The moment I had sex with him.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @markofdean79 @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78

#dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #wounded hearts #past haunts sequel #rebecca quentin #smut #fluff #angst #dean x becka #high school

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ladyfogg · 4 years

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May I? - 23/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @geekygwen

Sharing a space with someone else was a new experience for Data. He had spent hours on end with Faith in the past, however, having her there with him after his shift or on his days off brought a new level of intimacy. His bed was now their bed and his quarters were now their quarters.

Her clothes hung in the closet next to his. He even had set up a terminal for her across the room from his and occasionally they worked together.

The transition did have a few minor inconveniences as sharing a space normally would. However, through communication, the two were able to establish boundaries. For example, Faith would pick up after herself and Data would not rearrange her belongings without asking.

All in all, it was a positive experience.

They had not told many people about the arrangement. Data had improved on keeping the details of their relationship private, limiting any questions to a select number of confidants.

With his and Faith's relationship on solid ground, Data turned his focus to his upcoming art show. The closer the date approached, the more it consumed his thoughts. He found himself having difficulty narrowing down which paintings to showcase as he had painted thousands over the years. Faith helped with the event details themselves, such as food, decorations, etc. It was turning into a wonderful joint effort between the two.

Data sat at his console, running diagnostics while simultaneously organizing his artwork yet again. He heard the door open and glanced up to find Faith entering their quarters.

"Ten Forward is looking great," she said. "Guinan took over decorating and kicked me out." When she saw him at his console, she sighed. "You were there when I left hours ago. Shouldn't you take a break?"

"You are well aware I do not need to rest." Data continued to work. "The show is twenty-two hours away and I have yet to decide on which paintings to display. Aside from the ones involving you, of course."

Faith crossed the room and moved to stand behind him. Her hands ran up his arms to rest on his shoulders. "There is such a thing as over-thinking, babe. You need a distraction."

"There is not much that can consume my thoughts enough to qualify as a distraction."

Data found his console blocked by Faith as she slid her body onto the smooth surface. Her legs moved to trap him between them, forcing Data to look up to meet her eye.

"I can think of one thing," she said with a flirtatious smirk.

Intrigued, Data studied her. "You are attempting to seduce me in order to take my mind off my problem."

"Correct." Faith cupped his face as she leaned forward, eyes shining with excitement. "Also, I believe making love in a work-like setting was on your list. Number thirty-two, right?"

"Thirty-three," Data corrected. "Thirty-two involved the armchair, remember?"

"Mmmm, yes I do."

When she kissed him, Data closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation. He had grown used to the strange tugging feeling in his stomach when they touched and the way his hands seemed to move on their own accord, coming to rest on Faith's thighs.

Before they could go any further, however, Data found his mind too preoccupied. He drew back and gave her an apologetic smile.

"I am afraid it is not working."

Faith smiled back, running her hand through his hair. "It was worth a try. I figured it would be a long shot. Do you want me to leave so you can keep working?"

"I would rather you stay."

Faith slid off the console and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Whatever you need."

Data returned to work. "I would appreciate your input on the pieces for the show."

"Of course! Did you narrow down which ones you want to focus on?"

"I have settled on one-hundred and twelve possible paintings and combinations."

Faith blanched. "You might want to pair it down a little further."

"I am aware."

"Have you tried laying them out and looking at them?"

"I do not understand how that will help."

Faith smiled at him while she stroked his hair. "I know you have your lists running through that amazing mind of yours, but an art show is about visuals. So, maybe you should choose based on that."

Data had not considered such an approach. "It is worth a try."

He stood and the two of them went into the next room. Every surface aside from the bed had paintings either propped up on or leaning against it. Each time Data thought of a painting, he had taken it out of storage and the result was a room filled with various works of art.

As Faith spread the potential paintings around, Data studied them closely. All he could see were the change in techniques. How his style shifted each time he studied another artist or how the colors changed when he focused on color theory.

Remembering Faith's comment about visuals, he concluded that style and color were not exactly what she had been referring to. So he focused on the subjects instead. Once he began following that train of thought, he started to move the paintings around himself.

Faith stepped back and let him work as he picked up speed. Eighteen minutes later, he stopped, taking a few steps back.

Without realizing it, Data had selected paintings of his friends and family. He stared at the collection of faces, reliving his memories of each one.

In the beginning were Dr. Soong and his wife; his parents whom he had never really gotten to know. There was one of Lore, his brother and rival, yet no less a part of Data than anyone else.

Commander Riker followed, someone who Data looked up to and came to think of as one of his closest friends. Lieutenant Worf, Wesley, Dr. Crusher, were showcased as well. He had learned so much from each of them and cherished their friendships. Guinan and Counselor Troi had been instrumental in his growing relationship with Faith. Their advice and wisdom was something he would always value.

Captain Picard's place among the collection was well-earned. He was not only Data's captain but had advocated for him when no one else would. Without him, Data had no doubt he would not be where he was.

Spot was no less important than anyone else. Through his cat, Data had learned to take care of another being. Geordi was his first and best friend. Data had come to think of him as family and hoped the sentiment was returned.

At first, Data had hesitated to include Tasha due to their intimate history. However, she was and always would be special to him and Faith knew of their past. When he first told her, they spoke for hours about Tasha. Data felt if Tasha were still with them, she and Faith would have been fast friends.

Lal stared up at him from the painting, captured exactly as she had been when she was alive. Data still had her memories and accessed them from time to time. The idea of creating another android child had not left him, though it was a discussion he and Faith would have to have when they were further along in their relationship.

The final paintings were of Faith. The first one of her he had even done, leading up to the stars one he had shared with her weeks ago.

As Data was studying his work, Faith came up next to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

"I love it," she said.

"Does this look visually pleasing?"

"It's more than that. It's beautiful to see all the people who made a difference in your life."

"Then, these are the paintings I will display."

Faith beamed up at him. "I'm so proud of you."

The way her face lit up as she looked at him gave Data that feeling again and he bent his head to kiss her.

"I must go relieve Commander Riker from the bridge, and you must sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day for both of us," Data said.

"Don't remind me. My brain is already spinning with everything that still needs to get done."

"I shall make you your tea before I leave. Do you wish for me to stay until you fall asleep?"

"No, no. I'll be okay. Besides, you have duties to attend to."

Data replicated Faith's evening tea while she changed into her sleep clothes. Once she climbed into bed, Spot slunk out from behind the chair where she had been hiding and took her usual place at Faith’s feet. It pleased Data to see his cat warm up to Faith so much.

"Thank you, babe," Faith said, taking the teacup from him. "If I'm not awake when you get back, feel free to wake me. I have some diagnostics I have to run before preparing for the show."

"Faith, you should set aside downtime for yourself as well. I appreciate all your help but I have noticed you have not properly rested in many weeks."

“What do you mean? I’m sleeping better than I have in years.”

“Sleep is not always the same as resting.”

With a sigh, Faith leaned back against the headboard, hands clutching her steaming mug. "Deanna said the same thing. I agree but I just don't know what I could do to take my mind off things."

"Perhaps we can spend time on the holodeck."

"Yeah but what program? My mind is blank."

"I can create a program for you if you trust me."

Faith smiled softly. "With my life. I'm sure I'll love whatever you come up with."

"Then I shall do so." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Goodnight, mi alma."

"Goodnight, babe."

Data began creating said program by the time he left their quarters. He wanted it to be perfect, not just because he cared about Faith but because she had been such a big help with the show.

When he arrived at the bridge, Commander Riker smiled at him. "There he is! How is the planning for the art show going?"

"Very well. Faith helped me decide which artwork to display."

"That girlfriend of yours is a gem." Riker stood to allow Data to take the captain's chair. "You're a lucky man."

"Thank you, Commander. I believe so too. Will you and Counselor Troi be able to attend the show?"

Riker smiled wider and clapped him on the back. "Wouldn't dream of missing it."

As he turned to go, Data realized he would like Riker's advice on helping Faith relax. "Commander, may I ask you a question of a personal nature?"

Riker stopped, his eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Data stepped closer and lowered his voice to avoid others overhearing. "I have offered to create a holodeck program to help Faith relax. As you are aware, it has been a stressful time for her and she has difficulty resting when she’s not working. What would you suggest?"

"A program is all well and good, Data, but what Faith really needs is shore leave. She needs time off the ship and not spent in a crashed shuttle or being held captive."

"It is difficult enough to convince her to take time off on the Enterprise. It will be a task to get her to leave the ship."

"Well, I assumed you'd go with her. You both have plenty of personal shore leave available and you deserve a romantic vacation."

Data could follow Riker's logic. "That is an interesting idea. I shall work on that for the future as it will take some planning. In the meantime, what would you suggest for a holodeck program?"

"Sunset dinner on the beach," Riker said without hesitation. "Soothing, romantic, and leaves room for a moonlight swim if you catch my drift." He winked.

Data did not but he assumed the commander was referring to something intimate. "I see. Thank you, Commander."

Riker gave him another pat on the back and a smile before he took his leave.

Data had to switch his focus to his duties but kept building Faith's program in the back of his mind. His subroutine had specific perimeters for showing appreciation. He needed to put as much work into thanking Faith as she had put into helping him. He had often heard from his various male colleagues that anticipating their partner’s needs or showing adequate appreciation was difficult in a relationship. Data had thought as much for some time but that was no longer the case. As his and Faith’s relationship progressed, he found it easier to do so. His urge to make sure she was happy and healthy outweighed most anxieties about failing. Most. Not all.

His shift was routine and once it was over and Captain Picard arrived to relieve him, Data returned to his quarters. Faith was still asleep when he returned, which pleased him. True to her earlier statement, she had been sleeping for longer, uninterrupted periods of time which he knew was good for her overall well-being.

As he sat beside her, he admired her relaxed features. He appreciated seeing her void of the anxiety that so often took hold. Sometimes when she thought he was not paying attention, she would let her anxiousness show and her forehead would crease with worry. It was those times that Data was concerned about. With many good things happening around her, it made him curious about what could still be plaguing her ever-working mind. Counselor Troi had explained to him that anxiety and depression did not simply disappear because things were going well. But when Faith slept, Data noticed that was all gone.

He reached out to stroke her wavy hair. A moment later, she stirred, opening her eyes and giving him a sleepy smile. "Good morning." Her voice was soft and hoarse.

"Good morning, Faith. You asked me to wake you when I returned."

She gave a large yawn and a stretch. "I did, didn't I?"

Data could tell sleep was not leaving her as quickly as it usually did. "Perhaps you should remain resting. No one would fault you for taking advantage of the time."

"But, I have diagnostics…"

"Are they urgent? Do Geordi or the captain need them today?"

"Well, no."

"Then go back to sleep." Data readjusted the blanket. "You can run them later."

She pondered his response before giving him a sly smile. “Or you can slide into bed with me and we can make out a little.”

Data was intrigued by her switch in priorities. He had known sex and physical contact could distract humans but it was interesting to witness it firsthand. Faith was quite driven and focused when it came to her work, but it seemed the thought of being sexual with Data was enough to change her mind about continuing her rest.

He saw no reason to deny her request and found the idea acceptable. He stepped out of his shoes before sliding into bed with her. Once settled, he pulled her close. When their lips met, she no longer had any traces of sleep. Her body curled around his, her hands clinging to the front of his uniform. Per his program, his eyes closed while he kissed her and he focused on using his other senses. Her smell invaded his nostrils and the way her mouth moved against his activated his sexuality program. However, since Faith had not specified whether or not she wished to engage in intercourse, he shut the program down.

“I love kissing you,” Faith mumbled, her sleep-addled brain making her more vocal about her feelings than she normally would be so early in the morning. “I can kiss you for hours.”

“While physically I will be able to do so, I do not believe you will.”

She chuckled, peppering his lips with kisses. “I can try.”

Data knew she was being facetious so he let the comment go without discussing exactly why that would not be advisable. He cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply, the way he knew she liked. At least, he concluded she appreciated such action. Her pulse tended to race faster and she often let out a small noise of appreciation.

The results were instantaneous. Faith clung to Data even tighter, throwing her leg over his hip. He may have shut down his sexuality program a bit prematurely…

Before they continued, however, Data wished to discuss with her the idea of taking shore leave. Since she was so obviously relaxed, he thought she may be more agreeable to the idea in such a state.

“Faith,” Data said in a hushed voice when she pulled away to catch her breath. “May I ask you a question?”

“Now?” Her response was not said with any annoyance or malice. It was more of a whine as she attempted to kiss him again.

Data gently stopped her. “I realize my timing may interrupt our current intimate session, however, I promise it is relevant.”

“I was only teasing, Data. Of course you can ask your question. What’s on your mind?”

“While our duties on the Enterprise do not allow us to indulge in such intimate activities on a regular basis, I was wondering how you would feel about taking shore leave with me sometime in the near future.”

Faith pulled back to look him in the eye. “You want to take a vacation with me?”

“Is that not an activity most couples participate in?”

“It is. I’ve just never been on vacation with someone I’m dating. And the thought of taking shore leave always makes me feel so guilty. I mean, the Enterprise—”

“Can function without us for several days. It has done so numerous times in the past when neither of us was on board.”

She pursed her lips as she usually did when Data made a valid point. He allowed her to take her time answering, not wishing to rush the process or put pressure on her answer. “I’ll definitely consider it,” she concluded after a time. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love to have several long uninterrupted days with you in a comfy bed somewhere tropical. It’s just…” She trailed off.

“Is your anxiety a factor?”

Faith nodded. “I tried taking shore leave when I first joined Starfleet and for some reason, I could never relax enough to enjoy it. The guilt of being off having fun while my colleagues worked just felt wrong. it was always difficult to turn my brain off.”

“I do not believe humans can do such a thing. It is my understanding, that would be fatal.”

Faith chuckled, stroking his cheek. “Not literally. Figuratively,” she explained. “What I mean is, when I’m on vacation, I can’t help but worry about all the stuff I should be doing on the ship. What I could be helping with. It got to the point where shore leave made me more stressed than staying on board. So I stopped taking it.”

“Perhaps with me accompanying you, that can change,” Data suggested. “You do tend to lose track of time when we are in bed together.”

She gave him a sly smile as she drew closer once more. “Are you saying that I’ll be so distracted by your sexual prowess that I’ll forget all about the Enterprise?”

“When you phrase it that way, it does seem as though I was boasting,” Data realized. “I can assure you, that was not my intention.”

Faith chuckled and gave him a small peck on the lips. “I will take shore leave with you, but I’ll need some time in advance to get used to the idea. Is that okay?”

“I only wish for you to be comfortable and happy.”

“If you want me to be happy, kiss me again.”

Data obliged.

They did not spend much longer in bed as there were still many preparations to complete before the art show. Hours later, after Faith assisted Data with carefully packing his paintings and transporting them to Ten Forward, she stepped away to get herself ready for the show. Data did not know what she meant but was unconcerned. He set about putting the paintings on display himself, readjusting them to account for the flow of the room or certain lighting. Data had just put the finishing touches on his work when Guinan approached him.

“These look wonderful, Data,” she said with a proud smile. “Everyone is going to love them.”

“Thank you, Guinan. And may I say, you and Faith did a wonderful job with the decorations.”

Ten Forward had been transformed into an elegant art gallery. Faith had insisted on having what she called “finger foods” and various kinds of synthehol, all for the guests to graze at their leisure.

Guinan looked around. “This was mostly Faith. She was adamant about making sure your art show was ‘perfect’. Her word, not mine. Said she even researched what other art shows look like. She really cares about you, Data.”

“That is good to know. She is special to me as well.”

“It’s more than that,” Guinan said, linking her arm with his. “Her feelings for you run deep. And while I know you are just developing feelings yourself, I want you to know how serious she regards her relationship with you.”

The tone of her voice led Data to believe her intentions were serious. He had known Guinan for some time and she would not make such a statement for no reason.

“I appreciate your concern,” Data said. “But you need not worry. I am serious about our relationship as well. In fact, Faith and I have been sharing quarters for some weeks now.”

Guinan actually looked surprised. “Really?”

Data nodded. “We did not want to tell many people as Faith values her privacy. I am learning to appreciate it as well. I am also eager to continue this relationship with Faith. She is…” He could not find a word sufficient enough to describe exactly what Faith was to him.

Thankfully, Guinan did not need him to finish his thought. She patted his hand, her smile widening. “I understand, Data. You better get ready. Your guests are going to be here shortly.”

There was not much left to do so Data took the time to do one more walk around the room, making sure his paintings were in the exact position to give them the best appearance. Eventually, Guinan opened the doors to Ten Forward, and Data’s friends and colleagues began to arrive.

To his surprise, a large number of people began to file in. He imagined if he was capable of feeling nerves, he would certainly be feeling so. Having others experience his creative endeavors tended to heighten his senses to a degree. He found himself focusing on their expressions and stances, trying to decipher what they thought of his work.

Geordi was among the first group of people to arrive. Data watched him walk through the show, admiring each of the paintings for a significant amount of time before approaching Data to congratulate him.

“Data, this is spectacular,” he said, giving his friend a smile. “I’m really proud of you, buddy.”

“Thank you, Geordi. I hope you do not mind that I included a painting of you in the show.”

“Not at all. I’m honored and touched. I think these are some of your finest work.” Geordi looked around. “Where’s Faith?”

“I do not know,” Data admitted. “She helped me bring the paintings down and then said she had to go get…” He spotted her the moment she walked in and almost lost his train of thought. “...ready.”

Faith looked stunning. She was not dressed in her Starfleet uniform or formalwear. She had opted for a dark blue sleeveless dress that hugged her curved frame. While the front did not dip as low as the dress Fajo forced her to wear, it still accentuated her breasts. When she turned to greet Counselor Troi, Data noticed the back of the dress dipped provocatively, stopping just above her lower back. The skirt of it folded around her long legs when she walked, occasionally showing off a smooth leg through a slit in the side. Her hair was pinned up in a simple style which highlighted her natural waves.

She was a vision of pure beauty.

Geordi followed Data’s gaze and smirked. “I’ll leave you to it,” he told his friend, before disappearing into the crowd.

Data did not notice him leave.

Faith caught Data staring and gave him a shy smile as she crossed the room to him. “Sorry I took so long,” she said, fidgeting with the dress. “I wanted to try something new and had to work up the nerve to actually leave our quarters.”

“Faith…” Data was speechless which was a strange feeling for him. “You look beautiful. I am honored you dressed so…” His eyes scanned her frame once more. “...exquisitely for my art show.”

“Well, it was more for you than the show.” She slipped her arm around his and smiled. “Shall we mingle then? Everyone seems so excited.”

Data had to admit, he found it difficult to focus on anything else with Faith on his arm. He found his gaze constantly drawn to the stray curl around her ear or the way the dress draped over her backside. Thankfully, she was more focused than he was and was able to draw his attention to those who were speaking to them. The compliments on his paintings came one after another. Person after person approached them to congratulate him on his work. His friends were each thrilled to be included.

At one point during the evening, when Faith was engaged in conversation with Beverly, Data slipped away from her to approach Captain Picard. He had seen the captain enter Ten Forward some time ago but had been reluctant to engage with him until he had time to study the paintings.

“Hello, Captain,” Data said, coming to stand by his commanding officer. “Thank you for taking the time to come to my show.”

“Data, I have to admit, I didn’t know what to expect when you told me you were putting together an art show,” Picard said. “This is wonderful. Seeing all of us depicted by your own hand is very moving.” They walked down the line together and Picard smiled at the image of him. “I will say, you could have at least made me look a tiny bit younger.”

Data recognized the light tone of Picard’s voice as a teasing one. “I shall keep that in mind for the future.”

At the painting of Tasha, Picard paused. Data recognized the sadness in his eyes. He often wondered how the Captain handled so many losses under his command. In the past, Data himself lacked the emotion to really dwell on such matters. But when Tasha died, that had changed. And now that he was with Faith, he could not imagine losing her in the same manner. It was a scenario he did not entertain.

When they reached Faith’s paintings, Picard’s demeanor changed to a lighter one. He gave Data a look out of the corner of his eye, his eyebrow cocked in amusement. “You and Ms. Diaz certainly have come a long way in such a short time.”

“Sir, do you think our relationship has progressed too quickly?” Data asked. “I had my concerns about such a thing but was assured we should move at our own pace.”

“Mr. Data,” Picard said, giving the android his full attention. “I may not know a lot on the subject but I do know this: love is love. It is going to happen whether we wait or jump right in. I envy you, Mr. Data. What you and Ms. Diaz have is special.”

“You are not the first person to tell me such a thing.”

“That’s because it’s true. We can all see it. And we’re all happy for you.” He gave Data’s shoulder a brief squeeze before pulling away. “Now, tell me about this one here…”

By the time the last of the guests left Ten Forward, Data was ready to retire to his quarters. He imagined he was as close to tired as an android could be. Talking to so many people in such a short time was a lot. But there was another reason he was eager to leave. The entire evening he had been watching Faith and planning how to show her his appreciation for everything she had done for him. Guinan offered to clean up and all but shooed Faith and Data from the room.

“That was wonderful!” Faith gushed as they stepped onto the turbo-lift. “Everyone loved your work. It was a magical evening. Some people even want to know when the next one will be. I don’t think I have the energy to even think about that let alone—”

Data silenced her with a deep kiss. Faith let out a noise of surprise, almost stumbling from the force of it until Data’s strong arm looped around her waist to catch her. He was overcome by a strange sensation pulsing through his body. When her mouth opened in surprise, he immediately slid his tongue past her lips. He could not understand it or contain it, causing him to kiss her with almost bruising force. Thankfully, he caught himself before he could accidentally hurt her.

When he drew back, she was panting, her brown eyes wide. “Where did that come from?” she asked, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

Data’s eyes followed the movement. “I do not know. But I have been wanting to do that since the moment you stepped into Ten Forward.”

Faith smirked, slipping her arms around his neck. “Oh really? What else have you been wanting to do?”

The doors to the turbo-lift open and without warning, Data scooped her into his arms, making her squeal in surprise. "Data!"

He wanted to experience her sexually. Their intimate moments had become a comfortable and enjoyable part of their relationship which he looked forward to. It was not only because of the feelings that emerged during their time together but because of the closeness it provided.

Faith had shared a similar sentiment with him so he knew the feeling was mutual.

Feeling. It was strange for Data to use the term so frequently. Desire and happiness were the emotions he associated most with Faith. When they were engaged in intercourse, most of his background processes were shut down or filed away for later.

As he carried her down the hallway towards their quarters, his hand found a slit in her dress, coming to rest on her thigh. He touched the warmth and smoothness, wondering if it would feel different if his hands had human nerves.

Would his skin goose pimple like hers did? If he had a heart, would it race? He noticed her pupils dilated when she was aroused so he had adjusted his sexuality program to do the same when they were intimate. Faith had not mentioned it but he noticed she seemed to smile wider when it happened. Even then he saw it happen right before his very eyes.

“Faith,” he said as they approached their door. “May I make love to you again?”

“I want you to do more than that, Data,” Faith told him, her voice dropping into the low register she only used when they were intimate. “I can tell you’re feeling something and I want you to give into it. Don’t think. Don’t analyze. Just feel.”

The doors opened and Data carried Faith over the threshold. “I could not stop this feeling even if I tried.”

#commander data #lt commander data #data tng #Data Soong #star trek next generation

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domesticsasuke · 4 years

Text

Domestic Sasuke AU Headcanon List

Domestic!Sasuke is an AU where Sasuke retires from being an active shinobi after Sarada is born.

But in my version of the AU there's a lot little more to it than that! This basically details all of the important changes that come with this AU.

Putting under a read more because this got long as fuck.

In this AU, Sasuke is brought back to Konoha similar as the canon series. He is interrogated for information on things like Orochimaru's research, the movements of Oto while he was affiliated with them, and any other information that may deem worth Konoha knowing. All of which he gives up willingly.

He is sentenced to one year probation in which he cannot leave the village, unless his presence is otherwise specifically required. He can do whatever he wants, missions included, as long as it's within Konoha.

Less than a house arrest, the probation is supposed to be an adjustment period to allow Sasuke to settle back into village life, situate the Uchiha estate, adjust to his lack of an arm, and focus on stabilizing his physical and mental health.

Now in Sakura's Story, we know that Sakura works on establishing help centers dedicated to helping children with their mental health and trauma across the shinobi nations. I like to think that within the village she was already pushing for better focus on mental health for shinobi.

Part of this adjustment period is Sasuke receiving counseling, both for anything he experienced while he was away and for what he experienced as a child. When Anko heard they were trying to find the best choice for counselor for Sasuke upon his return, she very firmly volunteered. As someone who went through some fucked up shit as a kid, she’d been working on becoming trained to help other shinobi youth.

I think the potential student-mentor relationship between Sasuke and Anko, given their shared experiences with the curse mark and Orochimaru, is woefully underutilized and unexplored.

The first few months are bad. Despite having returned willingly to Konoha, Sasuke's mental health is a mess. After years of emotional and physical trauma and keeping his mental barriers locked tight, finally being in a position where he can potentially feel safe makes him pretty much shut down. (A common occurrence for people once they get out of unsafe environments into safe ones.) Anko starts helping him work through all the layers and layers of shit and baggage he has backed up in his brain.

Interestingly enough, Sasuke finds himself spending a lot of time with Lee. Lee's energy reminds him a lot of Naruto and it begrudgingly endears Lee to him, only there’s something much more calming about sparring with Lee than Naruto. (Their dynamic comes to resemble Gai and Kakashi somewhat, but Lee is just a little sweeter and Sasuke just a little more serious.)

Sasuke and Sai oddly hit it off in their own strange way? There's a moment of tension between them on their first amicable reintroduction, but Sasuke has a much easier time communicating with him than Naruto and Sakura did upon meeting Sai. Even if Sasuke is wildly thrown off by the explicit and straight forward thing Sai often says.

As for Naruto and Sakura? They’re his most important people, always have been, even if he had to deny it to himself and others for years. Reconnecting with them isn’t... hard, but it’s awkward. Navigating this once familiar space, a space he spent so long rejecting feels strange and sometimes he feels ashamed or embarrassingly unworthy.

This entire relationship is built on the idea that he never genuinely tried to kill either Naruto or Sakura. It was either him putting on a show or him trying to convince himself he could, but he never would have gone through with it.

Sasuke also has much more meaningful moments with both of them individually where he apologizes to them. The terrible things he’s done and said are addressed and he makes it a goal to repent.

Sasuke enjoys talking about medical things with Sakura. He heard and learned a lot about medical science - especially dubious practices - while aligned with Oto, so they bond over talking about how fucked up some of the stories Sasuke shares. Sasuke gets a kick out of her mutual disgust, indignation, and reluctant intrigue. He also takes special interest in things she has to share about eyes.

While Sasuke will never not be Sasuke, his rekindling friendship with Naruto is, for the first time, not based on a foundation of pride and resentment. Naruto is still loud and annoying at times, but there’s also a feeling of freedom when they’re together. There’s nothing hanging over their heads anymore.

Nearing the end of his year, Sasuke begins to get increasingly restless. He's made wonders in his progress, but a lot of demons still pull at his subconscious.

He begins taking missions out of the village again, he and Sakura grow closer romantically, and life settles into something resembling peaceful, but the nagging itch that he's not doing enough is a persistent one.

In this AU, everyone doesn't settle into married life and have kids so early. Everyone has a bit more time as adults, a bit more time to figure themselves out and to court each other, before some of them finally have families years down the line.

During this, Sasuke catches wind of more and more ugliness in the world. He organizes with Tsunade to allow him to spend more time on long term missions targeting and working to uproot systems of severe crimes like human trafficking and slavery, something we see him doing a bit of in canon.

These missions can sometimes yield child victims and he corresponds regularly with Sakura and her health centers to organize for them to be taken in.

He's back and forth between Konoha and his missions over the years. Gone no where near as often as in canon, but sometimes gone for months at a time for particularly deep missions, but still works as a regular Leaf ninja on call for missions when he's home.

He does still struggle with a feeling of obligation and guilt sometimes due to his actions in the past, and there was maybe one year where he tried to isolate himself from the village partly for these reasons, another being because he felt his Sharingan drew enemies, but Naruto and Sakura set him straight. There weren’t about to him spiral back down to that abyss.

He is often accompanied by Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Lee, Anko, and a number of other of his friends in numerous situations over the years. He also accompanies Sakura on her rounds to check on centers' progress from time to time.

Team Taka no longer works with Orochimaru (because fuck that noise, is Orochimaru even alive in this AU??), and maybe join Konoha or work in Konoha affiliated establishments? (What do they do?? What are their goals??? Who knows, haven’t thought that far ahaha) Karin probably connects with Naruto over their shared Uzumaki lineage. Juugo might work in one of Sakura’s centers.

By the time Sasuke and Sakura finally decide to get married they've had years to address their pasts and spend time together.

It's when Sakura gets pregnant that Sasuke begins to reevaluate just exactly where he wants to be in life. He's spent so many years fighting. He's been fighting for recognition, revenge, redemption since before he was eight years old and realizes he... he's tired.

He's never allowed himself to rest because he's always felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. And he realizes he doesn't want to fight to feel allowed to exist anymore.

He wants... He wants to be there for Sakura. He wants to be there for his baby. And with a little help from the Sakura and Anko, he learns that that's *okay*. That despite all the ugliness still out there, he has a right to put his own desire to be with his family first, that he can trust the good people in his life to take on the responsibility of helping save the world while he takes time to be there for the ones who need him.

Bonus Headcanons that come with this AU:

Hinata is still a ninja

Neji is alive

Tsunade is Hokage for longer instead of stepping down to let Kakashi take over

Mom aged Hinata get a Better Haircut

Yamato isn’t Orochimaru’s keeper

Konoha doesn’t work with Orochimaru (Maybe he’s dead? Maybe Kabuto takes his place?)

#domestic sasuke au #sasuke uchiha #uchiha family #naruto #naruto au #boruto #sakura haruno #anko mitarashi #naruto uzumaki #idk if I should tag others because they're just mentioned?#I don't plan on having them really be on this blog #do they NEED tags?#I'll go back and tag this and I see fit #long post #stills #mod post #mod speaks #world building

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timdrakequotes · 5 years

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Hey! Was wondering if you could pull up some of Tim’s serious/inspirational quotes.

1. ‘One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes. Superman, Batman–everyone. I remember I’m not alone. I remember things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to. […] Your folks, an old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before. Someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to the problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great…or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works.’ –Tim Drake (Robin #156 – The High Dive)

2. ‘Get up. Get the hell up. You don’t get to quit!’

–Tim Drake to himself (Robin #167 – The Promise)

3. “You know what? You never made me Robin. I made myself.”

–Tim Drake on Batman (Robin #100 – The Price of Justice)

4. ‘All of us. We’re not the costumes. At the end of the day, we’re just a bunch of scared guys trying to fight through the fear and leave the world a little better than we found it. People always ask,“Why Young Justice?” I’ll tell you why: Because we’re so damned glad that we found each other, that we hold on to each other like life preservers as the flood waters rise. We don’t get more complicated than that. We don’t have to.’

–Tim Drake (Young Justice #55 – I’ve Got A Secret)

5. ‘Maybe…maybe it was the pressure. When you’re fighting for what you believe in–for what’s right–you find out just how alone you are. Every time you face up to evil, you have to beat it. But you only have one life…and you can’t afford to lose it. It’s a knife-edge not many can walk. Sometimes…even heroes fall.’

–Tim Drake (Batman #466 – No More Heroes)

6. ‘I don’t like people putting us in a box. Telling us what we’re capable of. Telling us who we are. I chose to become Robin, nobody picked me.’

–Tim Drake (Teen Titans #4 – Breaking the Rules)

7. “I hear a lot of loose talk about “justice” these days. Maybe we should talk more about peace.”

–Tim Drake (Robin #26 – The Hard Lessons)

8. “Despite how cold and empty I actually feel, I go out of my way to keep it lighthearted. Because I’m not going to surrender to the void, no matter how attractive and comforting it seems. The all too welcoming abyss. That dark place where Batman lives.”

–Tim Drake (Robin #132 – Fresh Blood Part One of Four: Too Many Ghosts)

9. “I can feel it now, like Batman used to. Electricity and guilt, shadows and sadness, kinetic energy and hope. It’s my city now if I want it to be. Not Dick’s. Not Bruce’s. Mine. But to make it that way…to make it right…what will I have to become? So many choices…but what will be my decision…?”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #26 – What Goes Around…)

10. ‘If I were no longer Robin…that would mean that no more innocent people are being threatened. No more criminals going around breaking the law. No one was living in fear of their lives. No more crime or wrongdoing. It would mean that mankind had entered Utopia, and I’d be happy for humanity. Because that would be the only circumstance under which I’d quit the game.’

–Tim Drake to Young Justice (Young Justice #7 – Conferences)

11. Robin: [to Jack Drake’s grave] I’m tired of pretending that not having you here isn’t killing me. That every time I lose someone else, it doesn’t take a little part of me with them. Before…before it happened, you told me it was all worth it. This life was all worth it, and that I should never question it. Well, I’ve been trying…please believe that I’m still trying…but every day I have to find another reason to put this mask back on. Sometimes it’s for Bruce. Sometimes for Conner, but a lot of times, I do it for you. Because you were brave enough to understand the man I wanted to be. And you lost your life because of it. If I was just some normal kid with some normal life, you’d be alive today. Maybe Mom��would be alive today. Were your lives really worth all the others I’ve saved? God, how can I even ask that? Dad, I used the night of your death as a reason–no, as an excuse to turn into someone else…and I came here tonight to tell you it won’t happen again. I’ll never give up, Dad. Not while there’s a breath in our bodies–neither one of us will ever give up.

Batman: [above Tim on a tree branch] No. We won’t.

Robin: We’ll get stronger. We’ll get faster. We’ll get smarter. We’ll honor you, and everyone else we’ve lose. We’ll die before this happens again. We won’t forget. And maybe some day… Maybe you can forgive us.

Batman: Goodnight, Jack. I’ll take it from here.

–Tim Drake with Bruce Wayne to Jack Drake (Robin #167 – The Promise)

12. ‘I don’t care if I am afraid–I can still act!’–Tim Drake to Scarecrow

(Batman #457 – Master of Fear)

13. “Here’s the thing: no one can predict their own future. The best a guy can do is to look to those who’ve been much longer on the same path as him, and see what a life of walking that path has done for them. For me, those people are Bruce and Dick.

You see what I’m getting at? Bruce has been on the job the longest. It’s slowly driven him madand eaten the human part right out of him. But what about Dick? Surely a guy like him can’t dedicate himself to this line of work and keep a level head on his shoulders? I wanna yell “He can!” But I can’t forget the glimpses I’ve seen recently of the same kind of monster eating at Dick, too. Little things that, looking back now, I can remember seeing in Bruce a few years ago. Should I call them “early warning signs”? Do I dare to assume it’s a disease I can’t catch with time?”

–Tim Drake (Robin #100 – The Price of Justice)

14. ‘You can’t have a friendship without trust…nor a relationship…nor a teammate. Take Batman for example… He trusts me to keep his secrets, to cover his back. I trust him the exact same way. He knows that I’ll always consult him on anythinghaving to do with those secrets, and vice versa. Because of that implicit trust, our relationship works. And it’s unique.’

–Tim Drake to Secret and Spoiler (Young Justice #30 – Round Robin)

15. “No time for ego, hurt feelings, petty disagreements…it’s all in the past. I need help. I can��t do this by myself.”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #9 – Collision: Part One of Four)

16. “Hesitation…second guessing…self-pity… Leave them behind. They’re death now. Use what you know. Remember what you learned. Be smart. Stay alive. Save the girl. Remember what Shiva taught you…what Ducard taught you. Remember how Dick moves so effortlessly. Remember Conner’s own special “techniques.” Remember what Bruce did. Use it all now. Win the next fight and the one after that before you get there. Remember everything your teachers gave you. Don’t be any of them. Be all of them.”

–Tim Drake (Red Robin #8 – Council of Spiders: Part Four of Four)

17. Tim: Robin is a symbol just as much as Batman is. It isn’t just a symbol of the law, it’s a symbol of justice. And Batman needs a Robin.

Batman: What I do is dangerous.

Tim: I know.

–Tim Drake with Bruce Wayne (Young Justice Secret Origins – 80 Page Giant: Little Wing)

18. ‘Of course we’re going to do this. I said it looked tough, not unbeatable.’

–Tim Drake to Secret (Young Justice Secret Files and Origins – Take Back the Night)

19. ‘“Never fight angry.” I didn’t know what it meant until tonight. He wasn’t talking about style or common sense. He was talking about weapons. Honor. Purpose. That’s what helps you survive and win. When all you bring to the fight is anger…you’ve already lost.’

–Tim Drake (Robin #25 – Sophomore Lethal)

20. ‘If you’re asking if I plan to continue as Robin, the answer is yes. I’m more determined now than ever before. But don’t for a moment think I’m now like you, Bruce. I’m not about to let these losses turn me into another copy of you–grim and vengeful and closed off from most of what keeps us human. Steph and Darla and my Dad died in a war worth fighting–made even more so because of the terrible price they paid, not in spite of it. I won’t squander their sacrifice by quitting again. So, if you’ll still have me, I’m Robin, and I’m in it for the long run.’

–Tim Drake to Bruce Wayne (Robin #132 – Fresh Blood Part One of Four: Too Many Ghosts)

21. ‘This is the deal. You want us to be part of the Teen Titans, this Tower has nomore rules. We get enough of them at home. We won’t sit on the sidelines. We won’t be treated like inferiors.’

–Tim Drake (Teen Titans #6 – War and Peace)

22. ‘We know we’re right, but what’s the point in being right if we’re not willing to fight for it?’

–Tim Drake to Red Tornado (Young Justice #18 – Revolting Developments)

#answered

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johnnyprofane1 · 4 years

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How to Get Diagnosed #ActuallyAutistic in Just 26 Years

First off, this is not a poor-me story.This is a journey to #AutisticJoy story…

I’m a singer/songwriter, pretend Rock Star with a decent following… after at least 5 other careers.

I’m also #ActuallyAutistic. Or my fave hashtag… #AutisticAF.

Two most frequent private-message questions I get?

Not about lyrics, my guitar playing, or even my mohawk…

1. Could I be autistic?

2. Should I get a diagnosis?

Well, here’s my way-long, way-detailed, way genuinely autistic answer…

I was born in 1953. Long before autism or Asperger’s were widely discussed in medicine or popular culture. More or less, just beginning in the 70s.

At least by 1957, at 4, I knew I was “different.” Family and neighbor kids told me so.

A lot.

In kindergarten, a teacher reported I was unusually creative, but “stayed to myself.” After 2nd grade intelligence testing, I was tagged “gifted.”

But my behavior was “odd.” Solitary. Formal in speech, a know-it-all. “Insensitive to context,” liked talking and playing in class. “Inattentive” to lessons.

I had one close friend at a time… In fact, only one I remember in all of primary school. In 4th & 5th grade. Jeff.

Wonder what he’s been up to the last 56 years…

My intelligence: uneven. My reading skills were off the chart, but verbal learning, most of education at the time, was difficult for me. Math tested high, but I was so impulsive on quizzes, I needed remedial classes.

Tests were a silly game to me. It was fun to be the first-one-done. I couldn’t have cared less about grades. I’m a process-, not results-oriented guy.

And most glaring? I was disliked, even hated, by schoolmates, cousins, perhaps even parents.

I was a target for mockery, hate speech, bullying, physical and sexual attack, and later molestation. And universal disappointment: “You’re not living up to your potential.”

A history of dozens of jobs, dozens of relocations, lost years in a cult, lost years in badly matched relationships…

And honestly? A history of causing great pain to others. Inadvertently perhaps, but not always. Then circling back to the couple of decades in what most would label a “cult…”

Something was just not right with this picture.

I first sought diagnosis at 17 following suicide attempt #1 in 1970. The experience was horrific.

I felt badgered by the therapist, “I know you have a secret you want to tell me.” I wanted so badly to please her. But had no idea what I was feeling, much less why.

As still happens under great stress, I temporarily lost language ability. I became mute. Which has several times been interpreted as “resistance,” “guardedness,” or even “passive aggression” by “helping” professionals.

I didn’t try therapy again until my first year in grad school, 1980. The psychiatrist summarily dismissed me without a plan when I didn’t respond to imipramine (an anti-depressant)– possibly I pissed him off. I seem to have a talent for stepping on therapist toes.

But in 1991, I entered the mental health system and essentially never left. Every new psychiatrist, psychologist, therapeutic social worker confidently diagnosed me… with something entirely different.

Between 1991 and 2016, I was diagnosed with adjustment disorder, major depression, type II Bipolarity, rapid cycling bipolarity, malingering, borderline personality disorder, dissociative disorder NOS (including discussion of multiplicity), PTSD….

There have been additional discussions of various anxiety disorders (especially social anxiety), attention deficit, schizophrenia, TIAs, stroke damage…

Pretty sure I’m leaving a few out.

With each new diagnosis, each and every professional confidently told me he or she had nailed it.

This time…

And they could help.

I was medicated accordingly with imipramine, Prozac and all the modern SSRIs, Welbutrin, Effexor, Lithium, depakote, tegretol, gabapentin, klonapin, lorazepam, respirdal, the occasional syringe of haldol, provigil and other narcolepsy drugs, sleep aids, supplements like fish oil, more I’ve forgotten….

And offered suggestions of Abilify, Seroquel, other anti-psychotics, electro-shock (ECT)…

As well as therapies including Jungian, supportive, interpersonal, analytical, psychodynamic, cognitive, task-centered, solution focused, dialectical behavior, cognitive behavioral…

I was myself a counselor from 2001 to 2011. Strange, but true.

Not one of these interventions helped me materially.

Not one.

And I experienced some very concerning side effects: tics, emotional numbness, difficulty thinking, feeling like a stranger in a strange mind. I totally gave up on treatment and medication in 2011. Bouts of suicidality ensued.

A very few friends and one wife threw the term autistic around over the years, but I never followed up. It seemed so unlikely. I was so bright. So articulate. Even somewhat successful… for a few months at a time.

And without conscious awareness, I had become adept at hiding the fact I was actually dysfunctional… perhaps the majority of the time.

Plus, I could pass for “normal” by masking… when not under stress. I learned by junior high to practice my favorite classmates’ neurotypical behavior in the bathroom mirror. Hide stimming, meltdowns, panic attacks, the total autistic burnouts lasting sometimes months, years…

In 2011, the intimacy of the most successful relationship of my life forced me to look inwardly as deeply as I could in order to avoid losing my third wife. (We are still together, deeply in love, but live in separate houses a few hundred feet apart. She needs breaks from my intensity. I find even her company exhausting after a few hours.)

My now-third wife had a family member with “high-functioning” autism, what we used to call Asperger’s (and what we now call, simply, autism). Watching this young boy negotiate his world was like watching myself in a magnifying mirror.

We had so many behaviors in common. Mine were just somewhat better disguised. With my wife’s encouragement in 2012, I began reading articles, books, online forums…

In 2016, when we separated briefly, I finally re-entered therapy. This time, I contacted various experts in adult autism through Indiana University’s Indiana Institute For Disabilities Community (IIDC).

Bingo.

Every symptom…Explained.

Every “flaw” in my character… traced back to this pervasive developmental diagnosis.

I am making progress in a kind of task-oriented counseling. Working on strategies to accommodate characteristics that just ain’t gonna change…

But the key gifts that external, credible diagnosis gave me:

Accepting I really am different, with very different needs from neurotypical folks.

Providing for those needs, as I discovered them. For instance, understanding my “special interests” are not hobbies. They are central to my survival. My job.

Reducing stimulation, sensory & social. Accepting I will have few intimate relationships in my life and becoming cautious about “friendships,” only those few folks who take the long, long journey to know and like me. After a lifetime naively assuming each new stranger was a new friend, my motto became, “Don’t like me? Don’t hang.”

Spending unashamed time… alone. I have a radical need for autonomy, while simultaneous difficulty managing independence when any other human is present. As much as I crave intimacy, I must manage my time with humans. Say less than 5 minutes with a stranger before anxiety or panic sets in, maybe 2 hours with my wife. Which brings me to…

Over the last few years, I’ve not only experienced reduction in anxiety, depression, suicidality, dissociation, night terrors, meltdowns, panic… I’ve come to realize my natural state.

Finding love. My neurotypical wife and I respect, admire, encourage, and desire one another. Pretty much a first for me.

Autistic joy.

Not disease…

Joy.

When I’m creating words or music, walking alone in Nature, watering my garden, cooking, fermenting pickles, making bread, decorating, yard sale-ing, reading, loving my pets, meditating, even shaving…

I’m in the flow.

There is no time. There is no space. No surroundings. No memory. No pain. Just lizard-warming-in-the-sun…

Joy.

Everything that restricts that joy? Gotta go. Good riddance…

So, diagnosis?

Yeah.

That’s my story.

And this time, I’m sticking to it.

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blackandwhitedays · 5 years

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hello

woah... it’s been over two years since i’ve logged into this blog.

i didn’t think i’d be able to recover it. thankfully i’ve been using the same five(ish) passwords for the past four years.

so much has changed since i first began posting. although, i only made about three posts. it’s not uncommon for me to come up with some bright idea to start a blog/journal then forget about it after a few entries.

where do i even begin?

well, i graduated. and the boy i mentioned in one of my first posts? we are going on two and a half years together. crazy stuff. he was my saving grace through my last few months of high school. i don’t know what i would have done without him.

i used to post on another website called my-diary, where i updated about my life a lot more. reading those posts made my chest ache. i genuinely felt like i couldn’t breathe. suddenly, i was in high school again, overwhelmed and suicidal with no one to talk to. yeah, shit was rough to say the least.

i lost all my friends in february of my senior year. so, yeah, about two years ago now. i couldn’t really remember the details, but rereading my old entries helped jog my memory. it was all childish drama, as i suspected. my friends thought i was petty and secretly hated them, so they dropped me. i was already disliked by my entire graduating class, and suddenly i had absolutely no one. i sat alone everywhere i went. my guidance counselor accused me of sabotaging my own relationships. which now i understand as a symptom of my extreme anxiety and fear. i would destroy my relationships with others before they could hurt me first. but that’s not what i did with my friends in school. i cared for them a lot. they were all i had at the time. and they were perfectly okay with abandoning me at my lowest point because they were selfish from the start, i was just too desperate to see it.

it still chokes me up thinking about everything. i sometimes get into these weird obsessive states where i will purposely go back and reflect on my high school times and get really depressed. i don’t know why i do it. i’m so much better now than i ever was then. yet it’s like i enjoy hurting myself sometimes. perhaps to make sure i’m still capable of emoting like i used to.

but anyways, let’s talk about the now. i graduated and basically made a massive “fuck you high school and fuck everyone who hurt me.” you better believe i was the talk of the town. i got about thirty comments praising my bravery, then the next morning the hate started flowing in. people called me retarded, a dumbass, a liar, etc. all the good stuff. called me a slut for wearing crop tops. and my mother, who was so worried what others would think of HER because of the post, kicked me out. i lived on ben’s couch for several days. it was a nightmare. i thought i had hit rock bottom.

but shit moved on. i moved away and started going to college. my mom eventually apologized for being a selfish bitch about the whole situation. i forgave her, even though i don’t know if i’ll ever fully be able to. ben moved with me and got his own apartment in the same town. i ran out of money after the first semester and nowhere would give me more loans, so i had to drop out and move in with ben. we both worked as much as we could and moved back in with our parents for about a month. then we saved up and got our own apartment in a bigger city. which is where we are now. ben has a really great job working in masonry. he’s making ridiculously good money, though he has no clue how to budget and is constantly broke. i am a supervisor of a program that helps people with disabilities and brain injuries. i also make good money. i’m saving up to go back to school this fall. our apartment is small and owned by a sketchy property management company who is absolutely going to rob us of our $1,000 deposit. we also have a dog by the name of winston. he is the love of my life and i adore him more than anything in this world.

my life has done a complete 180. there’s no denying that. the only thing that could make it better is having some friends. yep, two years later i still haven’t made a long term friend. i think it’s due to a combination of moving around a lot, working constantly, and somewhat isolating myself due to fear of getting hurt again. ben and i thought we made friends with some people living in our building. they were a couple and were pretty great for about a month. we had cooking nights where we made dinner, went hiking and exploring different cities, and hung out all the time. then the girl decided to pick a fight because apparently we opened her messages and didn’t reply right away and it upset her. i tried explaining that we’re both insanely busy and sometimes we check our phones in the spur of the moment but don’t get time to actually type out a reply. then she got even more upset and said “guess i’m not allowed to have an opinion then?” and started subtweeting about me on twitter. she also refused to talk it out in person and would only discuss it through snapchat. just really, really childish shit. then a couple weeks later they broke up. so there went that. i sometimes still talk to her but i’m certainly not interested in pursuing a friendship. i don’t need that kind of drama in my life.

sometimes i wonder if it’s me. if i really am some crazy manipulative bitch who just has no idea that she’s on some rampage to destroy everyone’s lives. but i really don’t think so. i just want some people who can come over and watch movies, chill out, etc. then when it warms up outside, we can go hiking and smoke in the woods, go on adventures at night through the city, and eat at all the different restaurants in town. i also want friends who i can make really shitty obnoxious jokes with and they will LAUGH. is that so much to ask? apparently, it is.

i do work a lot though, which prevents me from having as much of a social life as i would like. i’ve been a pretty regular smoker of weed for going on four years now. through my junior and senior year of high school as well as in college up until now. but in these last seven months since i moved into this apartment, ben and i have smoked almost every night. and boy, have i felt the effects. i definitely feel less focused and productive. i just want to come home and be lazy. which i can’t be. my job requires me to stay sharp and be productive, so i’ve decided to cut back and make it a weekend thing. it’s hard, though, because ben smokes every. single. day. and he has no plans to change that. he tried stopping and got so depressed he was feeling suicidal again, which he hasn’t felt in a long time.

oh, and as for ben and i? yeah, two and a half years. pretty crazy. we were all over each other for the first year and a half. we fell hard for one another. it hasn’t been perfect by any means, but it’s been a good time.

my biggest issue in the relationship is our lack of sex. i’m a very sexually driven person. i love sexually charged attention. i love a man who will slap my ass when he passes by me, and has to resist the urge to bend me over every time i “accidentally” change in front of him. ben is really not like that. his sex drive is practically non-existent, which has taken a toll on us for sure. it’s mostly because of his depression, i think, so he’s trying to get on antidepressants. they’re also for him, of course. he wants to feel happier. hopefully, it works.

these last few months have been a little rockier. not because we’ve been fighting more or anything. but i just feel like his heart isn’t as in it as it once was. he will deny it, of course. he claims he’s never been more in love with me. and i’m sure he genuinely believes that. but his lack of effort says otherwise. i spent $150 on concert tickets for him this valentine’s day. guess what he got me? nada. like, not even flowers. or chocolate. i’m not asking for him to break his bank on me. at all. i’m the easiest girl to please when it comes to this stuff. i just wanted to feel special. and i let him know how disappointed i was. i thought expressing my feelings would make him want to make it up to me, but he hasn’t done anything. he also hasn’t done much around the house, and i’ve been working late almost every night. i like things done a certain way, and he knows that. but you’d think he’d recognize that i’m working soo much lately and that i could use the extra help around the house. but no, i have to confront him about it which leads to him getting super defensive which leads to me getting upset which leads to a fight. then the whole night is ruined. it took an entire fight for him to finally clean up one night when i was working. which was nice. but it felt like he was doing it because i made a big deal about it, not because he actually wanted to help me out.

WARNING: Vulgar rant up ahead:

i feel like i’ve sort of began building up some resentment towards him. i hate that that’s the case. but i’m getting laid maybe twice a month. i’m nineteen years old and i am fucking HORNY. and i’m not unattractive to look at by any means. it sucks so bad when i come home and try to be subtly sexy and change in front of him and dance around and all he does is stare at his fucking phone. then when i straight-up climb on him and try to kickstart things, he says he’s tired and it’s too late. it makes me not want to come home from work. there’s nothing for me here. he doesn’t pay any attention to me. the most i see him is when he eventually passes out in my lap at 9:30 at night. it’s fucking exhausting. i’m so starved of attention. i went from being so incredibly crazy about him just a few short months ago, being so positive he was the one for me, to being almost in tears at the thought of dealing with this way of living any longer. i’m trying so hard to hold out for him to see a doctor and get on meds, but i just don’t know if it will help. he’s been on some before, and he was still sad and actually thought getting off of them would help his sex drive. but surprise, it didn’t.

i can’t imagine us breaking up. i mean, i would have to completely start over. get my own place, pay for everything on my own, etc. it would be so hard. i don’t want that to happen. but i’m fucking miserable here. i can’t rely on sitting on my fucking dildo and cuddling my dog as replacements for the love i signed up for when i entered this relationship. are we fizzling out? i don’t know. but i’m sad and angry and very, very frustrated.

and i’ll be honest, i’m really not that sexually attracted to ben in the first place. at first, i was, but he’s basically used all his moves on me and it’s pretty repetitive when we do have sex. i can’t get off without porn anymore. which i hate. i don’t even like porn that much. but it’s the only thing that works. so, would things even improve that much if he was having sex with me all the time? i don’t know. i just know that if things haven’t turned around by the summertime, i may be looking for a new place to live.

do i sometimes yearn for the freedom that comes with being single? sure. do i sometimes wish i could get laid by someone who actually has new moves to offer? of course. but do i want to sacrifice my relationship to receive these things? that’s what i’m not sure of.

i hate to even think of losing ben. it’s terrifying. i just want to feel loved. i just want to feel appreciated for everything i do around here. i try so fucking hard. but he gets so defensive when i try talking to him and thinks he contributes just as much as me (not even fucking close). i can’t even have a civilized discussion with him because it turns into a messy ass fight. wow, this is the longest post ever. i’ve talked about a lot tonight. it feels good to get some of it off my chest. it’s been building up inside for quite some time. i hope shit gets better in regards to my relationship. i need some damn love. and fast.

#relationship #deadbedroom #lonely #help

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originaljediinjeans · 5 years

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I think here on Tumblr is the only place I “could” discuss this. If I brought it up on a Facebook support group my post might not get approved by admins because of how what I am about to describe touches on multiple sensitive issues. Also I have certain friends in those support groups that might not like seeing what I have to reveal.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We’ve been called “Mormons” in the past but we’re trying to step away from that. Those of you who have heard of the Church know that the Church has come under fire for its policies towards LGBTQ+ people, based on teachings that promote the traditional family and traditional marriage as the center of our lives and the thing for which we are rewarded the most in Time and Eternity for having. For very strong personal reasons I accept the Church’s teachings about the importance of marriage and family.

In the last few years I have added a good number of LGBTQ+ friends into my social circle. A few of them are very vocal about their identity and lifestyle on their online profiles. I have had good experiences with some of these people and I have grown to care about them as peers and as friends. Some of them I have stood by (mostly via internet) as they have struggled with their own mental health problems. I want to have good relationships with people from all backgrounds. There is no reason in my mind that I can’t.

I am autistic, and I have struggled with mental illness off and on since my teen years and issues about marriage and sexuality and my beliefs about them have been at the center of a good portion of those struggles. My parents and my counselors and doctors would all tell you that I have a very “black and white” way of thinking and they are correct. For me, something either has to be all one way or all another way. I have worked very hard since I was a child to try to understand that things that are different can coexist, and things that are not all one way can be just as they are.

There is a part of me that is always trying to reconcile having LGBTQ+ friends and associates with my faith. I have done everything I can to study the scriptures and the teachings of church leaders in order to understand the concept that the Savior taught that we must love those who are different from ourselves. He dedicated His life to making a special effort to reaching out to everyone who was outcast, downtrodden, and left behind in any way: He asks as much of me as well as everyone who follows him.

After this last weekend’s General Conference, I saw the usual backlash on the internet against how certain topics were addressed by the General Authorities. I admit, it was enough to trigger a meltdown. I was able to pull myself out of it. I came to the conclusion that the issue with myself is that I am not ‘homophobic’ as much as I have anxiety about certain topics. I wonder how much homophobia itself is related to actual anxiety etc, but that is not the main issue here. The main issue here is me and how I feel.

I don’t want to “hate” people for who they are. And I don’t. But I have two seperate lines of thinking when it comes to my LGBTQ+ friends:

One: I love and respect them and I am so grateful that I can be friends with people who are different from me

Two: I do not approve of the lifestyle choices of people that I am acquainted with because my Church teaches that sexual relations are only legitimate between a man and woman legally married.

I have to carry those two mindsets in my interactions with certain people--I think it’s partly due to the fact that I’m autistic that sometimes I can’t deal well with the effort of being, in a sense, “double-minded.” It can feel exhausting because I’m trying to resist my natural tendency to think only one way. But I come from a church and a culture that teaches that basic values should not, cannot be compromised, and that only reinforces my mental rigidity, and that makes accepting other ideas harder. I confess sometimes that rigidity lends itself to feelings of anger and hate--but I don’t like to dwell on them. I don’t want to.

I hate reading or hearing that my opinions about anything are wrong, even if it’s not directly addressed to me. But I have a growing paranoia that I’m going to get hate for my opinions anyway (but if it comes because of this post so be it--I have honest concerns and I need to address them and I hope the right people find this post).

A lot of what I see on the internet tells me that my church is wrong about everything: about sexuality, about gender differences, about the leadership, I could go on for quite a while. There are people who question how it is “fair” that the highest rituals of our religion are exclusive to people who do as the Church teaches. There are people who protest that if God’s love is so universal and far-reaching that they should be allowed to have full participation in the Church regardless of their sexual behavior. There are many who claim that the Church wants them to “suffer” rather than have fulfillment from romantic and sexual relations with people they are attracted to. All of those concerns are valid. I don’t know the answers to all of their questions. However, I don’t think that questions or other people’s complaints are a reason to abandon faith.

My biggest concern is that as much as I “love and respect” my LGBTQ+ friends, I feel hypocritical and evil for associating with them because I have negative feelings towards their way of life. I feel like a bad person because I don’t “love” them unconditionally, or that I have to pick and choose how to love them. I think I am being fake with them. I have always been concerned about these friendships at least in theory but now I am an adult and being able to deal or not deal with them is going to have real consequences.

(Yeah, it’s Satan, I know).

When I was younger, I had the assumption that I was supposed to not interact with people who were immoral in any way, that it would make me “unclean”. I have since learned, of course, that that attitude is very wrong. I get that there are plenty of people in my church who treat LGBTQ+ people very poorly and I know that that has caused serious problems--some of my LGBTQ+ friends are from that background. I know that Jesus Christ would never condone members of His Church being unkind to others just because of their sexual orientation.

(Side comment that may hurt the validity of my quandry: I know that it sounds like the General Authorities of my church are talking down about LGBTQ+ people, or at least saying things that sound hurtful or aren’t what people like to hear, but the Church has always taught that we need to show love and kindness to all people, that we are all children of our Heavenly Father, and that being disdainful of others who commit sin is not the right way, even if we aren’t trying to make them “repent.” Those teachings are still valid even if the members don’t always live it. Also, back in 2015 the Church supported legislation in Utah to promote equal housing and employment for LGBTQ+ people, and the Church recently supported a hate crimes bill in Utah that includes protections for LGBTQ+ persons. I feel that the Church is trying to promote peaceful relationships and equal rights for access to basic needs).

I have a very real paranoia that if my LGBTQ+ friends knew how I “really” felt, they would abandon me. I belong to a church that is actively seeking to put them down, in their minds, and the flawed culture of imperfect members is hard to disentangle from Church policy. I have a very real compulsion to “out” my “problematic” side and just get it over with, to post here on Tumblr or on Facebook that I am a “toxic” person who should be shunned. In fact, since last October I have been tempted to commit suicide over the mere possibility that this ugly beast exists in my soul.

(Yeah, that’s definitely Satan)

I still believe that homosexual behavior is a sin. I have no intention of leaving the Church or criticizing its leaders, even if they are imperfect. But I accept that same-sex attraction and gender dysphoria is a reality for many people, and there is nothing wrong with those feelings in themselves, even though living in a world dominated by cishet people is very difficult. I also know that Heavenly Father does not approve of homophobia. The “natural man” is the one that gives in to fear, anger, and hatred.

But there are people who would interpret my religious views as homophobic no matter how I felt about them as individuals. I am afraid that the people that I am actually friends with might think of me as homophobic merely for belonging to this Church and for accepting some of its teachings. And there are people who think that if I don’t unconditionally “accept” and support their sexual lifestyle choices that I don’t truly “accept” them. I’m afraid of my own homophobia and it hurts. I’m afraid of attitudes of hatred and prejudice taking over me and then costing me my relationships with other people.

I am afraid that as we get closer to the Second Coming that the conflict between people fighting for what they believe are their rights and the Church trying to stand its ground will get very heated. I don’t know how that’s going to affect me but I’m not looking forward to it. However, I don’t want to worry about that now. And I shouldn’t. My life is better for my relationships with people who are different from me, including those of differing sexual orientation. I know that my Savior has commanded me to love other people the way that He loves--loving them for who they are and encouraging them to follow Him--and I want to.

I just really need help reconciling my feelings, or at least knowing that such reconciliation is possible. I’m not concerned about doing the right thing as much as am I going to be okay and do my LGBTQ+ friends really accept me without me having to compromise my beliefs? These issues put me under a lot of mental and emotional pressure. What is it going to take for me to be strong enough to withstand it?

Sincerely, Me, a person who struggles with mental illness and wants to do right by the people she cares about

Please interact: open-minded people who are religious/spiritual, Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, people with knowledge or experience of mental illness, LGBTQ+ people who are more tolerant of religious people; people who have struggled with similar thoughts or fears a plus

DO NOT INTERACT: athiests and exmos, antis, etc., anyone who just wants to talk down to me about my beliefs or “educate” me; also far-right religious people who misinterpret religious beliefs to justify homophobia

#mental health #mental illness #autism #tumblr stake #LGBTQ+ issues #sensitive subject #faith #faith and doubt #sexuality issues #paranoia #friendships #stress #personal #homophobia

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pocketseizure · 6 years

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The Legend of the Princess, Chapter 28

The Legend of the Queen

In which Zelda makes a courageous decision to live happily ever after.

This is the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who’s followed this story – I could never have written it without your kindness and support!

This chapter has an illustration (link) by the brilliant @lightsintheskye!

(Chapter 28 on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr) (Cover Illustration)

* * * * *

Zelda stood at the window of her bedroom as the sun set over the western mountains.

She looked down at Castle Town, watching the activity in the streets as people came and went. The roads were filled with travelers, as were the canals. The city’s population had grown steadily during the past ten years. Soon there would need to be wider roads, as well as another bridge, and the walls surrounding the city would have to come down to make room for new construction. In a way, Zelda mused, the damage caused by the riots may have been a blessing in disguise. Now there was finally an excuse to redesign the city’s layout, something she had been discussing with her counselors since her earliest forays into the administration of the kingdom.

Zelda crossed her arms over her chest. She was already laying out a timeline in her head as she assembled a list of priorities. It was good to have a moment to herself to do nothing but think in silence. She was usually forced to occupy herself with her clothing as soon as she returned to her private quarters, either to change into something formal for court or to extract herself from one of the gowns she felt obliged to wear, but at the moment she was comfortable as she was. After returning to the castle from the Temple of Time, she’d ordered that one of her riding outfits be tailored into a military uniform. She was pleased with the results. She looked good in pants and a jacket; it suited her. A princess carefully reviewed petitions and made subtle suggestions, but a queen commanded armies.

Zelda looked past the city and out to the hazy line of the far mountains that marked the border of Gerudo territory, remembering what Tetra had told her about the division of political power. “Delegate,” Tetra said, and that was exactly what Zelda intended to do.

At dawn she had stood on the balcony overlooking the front courtyard and delivered a speech to everyone in the castle, soldiers and invaders and guests and courtiers alike. She pardoned everyone who had participated in the riots and promised to use the royal family’s own funds to rebuild what had been damaged, but then she surprised everyone by proposing an equal council of territories. The monarchy had been in existence for so long that she had only the most nebulous ideas concerning how a republic would work, but she would have time to figure that out. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Zelda’s coronation ceremony was supposed to have begun an hour ago. Given the circumstances, plans had changed. Her father still hadn’t woken, so she had simply stepped in as the reigning monarch in his absence. She had thus become a queen without a grand ceremony. This was probably for the best, as resources were scare at the moment. At least the food prepared for the celebration hadn’t gone to waste.

Makar vanished back into the forest, and Darunia stayed with the king, but Ruto and Nabooru had remained at her side throughout the day. Impa had as well, for which Zelda was grateful. Link convinced Barghest to stand with her as she addressed the people who had invaded her city, and he was surprisingly civil as he accommodated her request. Zelda had to take care to treat him not as the former stablemaster but as the leader of a small army, but it was easier than she expected. She had been trained for such things, after all, and he cut an imposing figure.

She sent Ganondorf to negotiate with the Moblins and Lizalfos who had set up camp in the training grounds, asking him to convey her goodwill to them. It was convenient that Ganondorf could speak their language, and it was even more useful that they were willing to listen to him. As far as she could tell, no one in the camp said a word about Ganon, but she would have to monitor the situation. The irony of the faith she placed in Ganondorf not to take advantage of his position was not lost on her. She had made the decision to trust him when she allowed him to claim a piece of the Triforce, however, and she saw no reason to regret her judgment.

Zelda raised her hand to look at the golden triangle on her skin. She reflected on what Tetra said about how the Triforce had split before the flood. It was curious that she, the ostensible reincarnation of the avatar of divine wisdom, had ended up with the Triforce of Courage. Link had been granted the Triforce of Power, while the Triforce of Wisdom went to Ganondorf. This was a surprise to them all. She wondered if the Triforce had somehow chosen its bearers, or whether they chose for themselves, unconsciously asking for what they had wanted all along.

Perhaps one day she would have time to think back on all of this, but it was currently of utmost importance that she take action. Most of the visiting dignitaries would leave the castle soon, probably within the week, and Zelda was looking forward to setting out from the castle herself. Even if she hadn’t been properly crowned, it was the duty of a new queen to tour her kingdom. Or rather, if the talks during the next few days went well, it would be her duty as the provisional leader of Hyrule to make diplomatic visits to the various territories of the republic. Daphnes would stay here and recover, and she would have space to think about how to rebuild their relationship during her journey. He was her father, and she loved him, but she would never be able to forget what she had seen him do, all the while claiming that his actions were to save her.

Considering what had happened to her mother, Zelda was anxious about traveling to the desert. Still, she knew it would be politically exigent if that were the first place she visited. If nothing else, it would be an interesting experience to be a guest in Ganondorf’s court. It amused her to imagine him doing his best to be appropriately courteous and polite to her in public.

There was a knock at the door. Zelda was annoyed, thinking that it was still too early for anyone to come fetch her for the evening assembly, especially since she had specifically asked not to be disturbed. “Come in,” she said brusquely, making her irritation clear in her tone. As a princess, she had taken special care to be gracious and kind, but she was beyond such niceties now.

She waited for the door to open, but she couldn’t hear anything behind her. A moment later she realized how odd it was for someone to have knocked on the door to her bedroom instead of the main door to her quarters. Whoever was at the door had already passed through the rooms below without alerting her. Zelda was immediately on guard. She slowly withdrew a short blade from the inside of her sleeve and turned swiftly while flipping the knife into her hand.

She came face to face with Ganondorf. Her blade was almost touching his throat.

“Good evening to you too,” he said in a flat voice.

“My apologies.” Zelda withdrew the knife and placed it on her dressing table. “I thought perhaps you’d come to kill me.”

“That would be somewhat anticlimactic.”

“Perhaps it would, but it would also be more efficient to murder me in private.”

“Is that what you say to every man you invite into your bedroom?”

“I don’t recall inviting you,” Zelda replied. “Speaking of which, why are you here? I seem to remember asking for a report on the negotiations with Barghest, but surely that can wait.”

“I came because of a more pressing matter,” Ganondorf said, withdrawing a lacquer box from an inner pocket of his robes. He smiled as he offered it to her. “Happy birthday.”

Zelda was taken aback. It was indeed her twentieth birthday, but no one had mentioned it at any point during the day. This was understandable, Zelda reasoned, given the current state of the castle. In fact, she had almost forgotten it herself.

Since she didn’t move to take the box from him, Ganondorf placed it in her hands before lifting the lid to reveal two golden hairpins. They gleamed softly in the light of the setting sun.

“These belonged to my mother,” Ganondorf explained. “They were given to me on my own twentieth birthday, but I had no use for them. I used to wear my hair long like all Gerudo men, but that was the day I decided to break with tradition and cut it short. This is something of a secret, but I happen to know that these hairpins were originally given to my mother by your own. I thought you might like to have them. As a memento, of sorts. Of our mothers, and the friendship they allowed us to enjoy when we were younger.”

“They’re beautiful,” Zelda said, genuinely touched.

“Would you like to wear them?” Ganondorf asked.

Zelda nodded, closing the box and holding it to her chest as Ganondorf moved behind her. He carefully inserted the pins into the bun she wore, using them to tie the ends of her sidelocks back so that they framed her face like wings. He turned her toward her mirror and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“They look good on you,” he said. “They bring out the gold in your hair.”

Zelda met Ganondorf’s eyes in the mirror, assessing him. He seemed content and comfortable in her presence. She suspected that they wouldn’t have the opportunity to be alone together like this often, and she didn’t want to enter into the same sort of painful relationship that their mothers had struggled with for so many years. I need to break this off now, she resolved.

“I’ll accept this as a gift of friendship from the King of the Gerudo,” she said with a thin smile. “It will help me to remember you fondly once you’re back in your own city.”

“About that…” As Ganondorf’s words to trail off, he pressed his thumbs into the stiff muscles between her shoulder blades and began to massage her back. Zelda wanted to tell him to stop, but she had been on her feet all day, and what he was doing with his fingers felt wonderful.

“I’ve been thinking about your decision to initiate a republic, and I’ve made my own decision to abdicate the throne. To tell the truth, it’s something I’ve been considering for some time now. If I hadn’t been born, the position would have gone to Nabooru, and she knows this as well as anyone. I’ve discussed it with her, and I believe she’s amenable to the idea. I’d like to remain in Hyrule as an ambassador.”

“It’s been some time since we had a formal ambassador from the Gerudo,” Zelda said cautiously.

“It’s been some time since you had a formal ambassador from the Rito as well, and it goes without saying that you’ll want to maintain a good relationship with the Darknuts and Moblins. I could help facilitate that.”

“I suppose you could,” Zelda agreed. “How generous of you.”

Feeling self-conscious, Zelda walked to the window and looked out over the mountains, not wanting Ganondorf to see her blush.

“But I should tell you that I have a selfish reason for wanting to stay,” Ganondorf continued as he followed her. “I’ve always loved Hyrule, ever since I first came to your castle with my mother. I’d like to spend more time here, if you’ll have me.”

Zelda thought of the flowers he kept in his rooms, and her mind wandered to the terrible old man in his garden under the Great Sea. By this point she knew Ganondorf well enough to know that he did nothing without reason, but she also knew he was telling the truth about his affection for Hyrule. Perhaps it would fade, in time; perhaps he might one day grow nostalgic for his homeland and long to return. But he was here now, telling her that he wanted to stay with her.

She turned to face him. That would be nice, she wanted to say, or something equally inane, but instead of speaking she reached for him, and then his lips were on hers, hot and demanding. She opened herself to him, and he cupped the back of her neck to pull her closer. She tasted him in her mouth, the sweetness of his breath and the spice of his tongue.

A part of her expected to hear Tetra’s voice in her mind, chastising her for allowing Ganondorf to take advantage of her. Was he really giving up power by abdicating, or did he still have an ulterior motive for wanting to remain in Hyrule? Was this part of a larger game he was playing?

If this man is a threat, Zelda thought, breaking the kiss, then I welcome the challenge. But she was done doubting Ganondorf’s intentions, and she was finished with maintaining her silence.

“I’m going to have to tell you something,” she said.

“Good,” he replied, meeting her eyes. “I want you to tell me everything from now on.”

“You seem to think that Ganon is a cycle, or somehow related to the seal held in place by the Master Sword, but I agree with my father, and I agree with our mothers. I think Ganon is real. I’m worried that you will become Ganon, eventually. As long as you stay in Hyrule, I’m afraid that’s always going to be a danger.”

“None of this changes who I am,” Ganondorf assured her as he kissed her forehead. “I will always be on the side of the men who opposed Hyrule. I’m still angry about what happened to my mother, and I’m still angry that your monarchy has lasted for as long as it has. I will always be angry, and my anger will always be dangerous to you. But would you really want me to be gentle?”

“It would make me happy if you could be yourself,” she answered, relaxing into the strength of his arms.

“You want me to be myself? After everything you’ve seen?”

I’ve seen more than you can possibly imagine, Zelda wanted to tell him. She thought of the man who had cut down each of the leaders of the tribes of Hyrule as gracefully as he had once danced with her in the Great Hall, even as he told her that Hyrule would burn, and she thought of the man with a lined face and stooped shoulders who tended flowers in his garden in the underwater courtyard outside a forgotten library. In the Temple of Time Zelda had realized that Ganondorf loved fighting, that it satisfied a physical craving within him. Or perhaps he needed a form for the violence that raged within him. Zelda had seen Hyrule as Ganondorf must have seen it, passing through one life after another, staggering through a fantastic landscape of disaster and pain, floating under overbright moonlight on the waves of his own darkness.

“I will take control of your violence and exhaust it,” she promised him, meeting his eyes. “I will take you to the end of the world and see that you arrive safely.”

Ganondorf murmured her name and kissed her. He was fervent and urgent as he pressed himself against her, exploring and revealing her, consuming her with his hands and mouth even as he stiffened at her waist, earnest and sincere in his desire. The joining of their bodies was perfect, and they fit together as if they had been made for one another. If it was their fate that their union would only lead to disaster, then so be it. We abandon kingdoms because we want more than kingdoms, Zelda thought, and in his arms she knew it was true.

“You saw something I didn’t,” Ganondorf said as he held her. Zelda nodded, her head against his chest. She waited for him to continue, but he was silent. It occurred to her that, for all the questions she had asked Ganondorf, he never once asked her to explain her own actions. He was never one to ask questions, and she understood now that he was simply waiting for her to reveal herself on her own terms.

“You want to know why I destroyed the baton my father was holding?”

“You said something about seeing Hyrule flood.”

“I did,” Zelda confirmed.

“You said you saw me as well.”

“I did. You were… older. And unhappy. It wasn’t a good future. For you, or for anyone.”

“Did I become Ganon?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Was I still as handsome as I am now?”

“Of course,” she lied.

“If I didn’t see the vision, then it must have been real. You managed to move through time.”

“I’m not sure if that’s exactly what happened, but it felt close enough.”

“That should be impossible.”

“As impossible as the way you move through space?”

“The consequences of moving through space are minimal. You changed the entire reality of our world.”

“Yes, and you should thank me.”

“Would you do it again?”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“You destroyed the artifact the king was holding. What will you do with the ocarina?”

Ganondorf’s body was still warm and pliant against her own, but his voice had become dangerously quiet and still. A part of her had been afraid of him all this time, and with good reason, but she was beginning to realize that he had been afraid of her as well. And with good reason. Still, she was hurt that he couldn’t yet bring himself to trust her.

“I tried to destroy the ocarina earlier,” she admitted, offering the truth without prevarication. “I used the same silver arrows, but they had no effect. That magic only came to me in the presence of the Triforce and the Master Sword, so it may not always work. I think it might be possible that no one person can destroy the ocarina. But…” She paused to collect her thoughts as she tried to remember the shape of Tetra’s pendant. “I think there may be a way to split it into pieces. We should probably ask Link for help.”

Ganondorf’s body tensed, and she pulled away from him. “What?” she asked. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I don’t like it that you had a child with Link.”

Despite herself, Zelda couldn’t help laughing. “I saw the end of Hyrule, with you trapped in an underwater castle for who even knows how many years, and that’s what you’re upset about?”

“Are you still opposed to having children?”

Oh my, Zelda thought. What a thing for him to ask. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she said, still smiling. “I haven’t agreed to allow you to remain in Hyrule.”

“How bold of you to assume that it would be my children you’d be having.”

“I’ve found that I’ve become bolder since I received the Triforce of Courage. Do you feel any wiser?”

“Wiser? No. Although perhaps a bit more… imaginative.”

Ganondorf grinned and tilted Zelda’s chin up to meet his mouth. She welcomed his kiss, and her hands roamed over his robes as she traced the contours the body hiding underneath. Imaginative, indeed. She didn’t mind admitting that she’d been imagining a few things herself.

A faint sound caught Zelda’s attention, and both she and Ganondorf turned toward its source. Someone was knocking at the door to the sitting room downstairs.

“Your Majesty?” a muffled voice called out. “We’ve come to help you prepare for the evening.”

“I should leave,” Ganondorf said, starting to pull away, but Zelda gripped the fabric of his sleeves.

“Stay,” she insisted. “I have no desire for it to be a secret that I allow you to visit me here. I’m a queen now. I can do whatever I want.”

“Is that so,” Ganondorf muttered, his grin widening. “Then what do you want, Your Majesty?”

Zelda gave herself a moment to envision a future in which none of this had happened. Hyrule hadn’t flooded, the Triforce hadn’t been split, and she hadn’t shot the king. She had never seen Link with the Master Sword in his hand, and she had never confronted Ganondorf. She imagined a world in which she had never been visited by nightmares of a raging beast crashing over the kingdom, and her coronation ceremony had proceeded as planned, with the future stretching in a straight line in front of her as far as she could see. But everything had changed, and she no longer knew what to expect.

“I’m not entirely certain at the moment,” Zelda admitted. “For the time being, I want you to redo my hair. I want to show off those hairpins you gave me. Do you think you can handle that?”

“With pleasure,” Ganondorf said, tucking one of her sidelocks behind her ear.

“I also want you to go downstairs and dismiss my staff, if you wouldn’t mind. Please tell them that I won’t be wearing a gown this evening.”

“Is there any reason you can’t tell them that yourself?”

“No, there’s no reason at all, except that I want it spread around the entire castle that I’ve had a private audience with you. In my bedroom. I want them to think I’m currently too preoccupied to meet them.”

“Too undressed to meet them, you mean.” Ganondorf narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”

“I’m getting get the gossip out of the way before it becomes a problem.”

“I question the wisdom of sending up smoke where there’s no fire.”

“Who said there’s no fire? The evening isn’t over yet.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Zelda looked into his eyes and smiled, happy that she was finally able to speak exactly as she wished. “Yes,” she said. “It’s an invitation.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Then I’ll consider it accepted.”

Ganondorf gazed at her a moment longer before heading downstairs. He opened the door this time, rather more loudly than was necessary.

Zelda let out the breath she had been holding and walked to the basin placed next to her dressing table. She splashed her face with water and then regarded herself in the mirror as she patted her skin dry. All things considered, she didn’t look half bad. She would look even better once Ganondorf plaited her hair. Her mother once wore her hair in a style that she’d claimed had been inspired by the Gerudo queen, and Zelda was certain Ganondorf would know how to recreate it. She imagined his fingers in her hair and shivered with pleasure.

“May the goddess grant me wisdom,” she said to herself, blushing at the thought.

Zelda brushed a spot of dust from her trousers and straightened the sleeves of her jacket as she waited for Ganondorf to return. She may be the descendant of a goddess, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from becoming the master of her own fate.

She selected one of the rapiers mounted on a stand beside her bed and belted its scabbard across her hips. The weight of the metal felt good on her thigh. Zelda was only a novice swordswoman, but there would be plenty of opportunities for her to develop her skill once she left the castle. Perhaps Ganondorf could teach her a thing or two – and Link could as well, if he chose to accompany them.

Zelda raised her hand and watched as the golden triangle revealed itself, shining in the sunset. This would be her first night presiding over her court without her father, but Impa and Nabooru and Ruto were waiting for her, and Link and Ganondorf were to be her escorts. Zelda was filled with anticipation. She tightened the straps holding the sword at her waist and prepared to meet her destiny as the newest leader of Hyrule.

#Princess Zelda #Ganondorf #Zelgan #The Legend of the Princess #Zelda fic #my fic

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madam-lit-nerd · 6 years

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OK BUUUUUUUT I don’t have enough high school Destiel in my life lately, so here...HAVE SOME HIGH SCHOOL DESTIEL!

So Dean transfers to Central High School at the start of his junior year, brand new and handsome with the sharp jawline and bright green eyes, and oh-so-mysterious with those brooding stares and leather jacket.

Cas, on the other hand, has been in the county’s school system since pre-school—same classes with the same kids for so many years. There’s nothing mysterious in the least about his wide gummy smiles and bulky sweater vests, always paired with askew glasses and perpetual bed head. Which, on some people would be sloppy, but on him, it’s all kind of...adorable.

Right off the bat, Dean’s earning quite a bit of attention from guys and girls alike, all staring at him with desire or glaring with jealousy. There are, of course, a few people who immediately try to ingratiate themselves to him, but he‘s met these kinds before—they always try to wiggle their way in, bathe in that new-kid spotlight with their too-bright smiles and too-loud voices.

And yet, between all the first-day, back-to-school outfits and makeup and hairstyles, all the flirtatious smiles and overt greetings...there’s one person who stands out to oh-so-cool, mysterious Dean Winchester: the disheveled kid with the gummy smile who grins at him from three lockers away and quickly tosses out, “I’m Cas. Lemme know if you need anything!” before rushing off to his next class.

A friendly interaction that’s not too overbearing is exactly what Dean needs, and he finds himself glancing over at that locker throughout the day, hoping for another moment. Turns out that, even though he never quite catches Cas at his locker, he does see him when he walks into the last class of the day (physics).

Cas already has several other students around him, laughing and joking as they discuss their summers, but as soon as Cas sees Dean, he pats the desk behind him in invitation. Dean smiles gratefully as he settles his long frame into the small desk, surprised yet grateful for the unexpected show of friendship.

They fall into conversation easily, almost as if they’ve been friends for years. But as Dean watches Cas interact with the other students who walk into the room, he realizes that this is just who Cas is, how he actswith pretty much everyone. He’s awkward and dorky, sure, but endearingly so.

Dean finds himself admitting that he’s kind of into music and maybe it’d be fun to be involved in a band of some kind. Cas smiles widely and tells him about Chuck and his band that meet in Practice Room C almost every day after school.

“They’re no Zep,” he admits with a little chuckle, “but they’re the only band we have here at Central.”

Dean blushes and says that he’ll check them out, earning another blinding smile from Cas.

After the final bell of the day, Cas walks with Dean back to their locker block, still as easy and engaging as ever. Dean can’t help but marvel at how many people pause to bid Cas goodbye, everyone from freshmen to seniors, top-rung athletes to low-rung nerds. And Cas is just as friendly and open with each and every one of them.

Once they’ve gathered their books, Cas points Dean in the direction of the practice rooms before heading off to his own Monday-afternoon club (something about recycling, from what Dean catches). Dean does find the practice rooms and the aforementioned Chuck, along with his fellow band members Gabriel and Cain and Crowley. He hears them before he sees them, and he’s surprised at how good they are.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he knocks on the door—in fact he’s pretty surprised that he actually works up the nerve to do so—but Chuck’s already heard from Cas, and immediately invites Dean to sing along with them for the afternoon. By the end of the rehearsal, they’re blending like they’ve been doing this for years, and Dean’s got himself a vocal spot with Aborted Apocalypse.

When Dean spots Cas in the hallway the next morning, disheveled and adorable in yet another bulky sweater, he tries to thank him, but Cas just waves him off with a simple “That’s what friends do.”

And, from what Dean observes over the next weeks, Cas is just as generous with...well, pretty much everyone.

First it’s the giant football player Gordon who runs up and scoops Cas into a giant bear hug bc he finally earned a B in his history class, all thanks to Cas tutoring him in his one free hour.

Then it’s the sketchy guy Sid who usually hangs out behind the gym celebrating April 20 every fucking day, shuffling up to Cas to mutter that he’s “got the stuff in his car.” At first Dean’s taken aback, bc he can’t help but wonder if Cas, well...but then it turns out that “the stuff” is the Tupperware containers that Cas used to pack a bunch of meals when he learned that Sid’s mom was in the hospital for surgery.

Then it‘s Bela sauntering up to inform Cas that their usual girls night at the movies will need to be moved to Friday instead of Saturday bc she’s been asked out on a date.

Then it’s Becky, a freshman who stumbles up sobbing bc her junior boyfriend broke up with her to ask Bela out on a date.

Then it’s some random sophomore asking Cas for a hug and a piece of chocolate bc they failed their world history quiz. Then the frickin school counselor stops by to ask Cas to sit in on an appointment with one of his friends (a term that literally applies to the entire school, as far as Cas is concerned).

And Cas—sweet, adorkable Cas who’s involved in so many extra clubs and volunteer groups on top of all this—just takes it all in stride. Dean can’t even begin to guess when the guy studies or does his homework, but he passes in all the homework that’s due and he aces all his quizzes (at least the ones that Dean grades).

When Dean finally asks Cas how he does it, how he manages to look out for so many people while still taking care of himself, Cas just shrugs and says something about “mom friend” before offering Dean one of the cookies he’d baked over the weekend.

It’s at this exact moment that Dean realizes that he’s falling for Cas. Pretty fucking hard. It doesn’t help that they’re spending more and more time together: studying for physics, hanging out at each other’s houses, binge watching Dr. Sexy, volunteering for events with the animal shelter (Cas’s idea). Cas will even sit in on the band’s rehearsals some afternoons and hum along as Dean flashes him funny faces and flirtatious winks.

And yeah, Dean tries dropping hints here and there, flirting and gentle teasing—everything that’s worked for him in the past. But, Cas seems oblivious? Honestly, truly oblivious. Whenever Dean flirts and tries to compliment his eyes or hair, Cas deflects and makes a joke instead. The couple of times that Dean asks Cas out, it’s misinterpreted as just . . . hanging out. It’s incredibly frustrating, to say the least.

But there are so many hints that maybe Cas does like Dean back? Like the way he always smiles so openly at Dean, with his entire face lighting up every time they’re in the same room. The way he goes out of his way to talk to him and spend time with him, no matte how many other people are vying for his attention. How he attends the band’s gigs once they start playing local venues...He even befriends Sam (which is a huge deal for Dean) bc they’re both in GSA. Which, that certainly sparked Dean’s interest when he heard, but Sam had to admit that he didn’t actually know if Cas was into guys, or just an ally.

It isn’t until Bela sweeps into an Aborted Apocalypse rehearsal on a Tuesday afternoon in November and shoves her perfectly manicured nail into Dean’s chest to ask, “Why the hell haven’t you made a move on Cas?” Which surprises Dean, bc he knew that Bela and Cas were close (an unlikely pairing, given...well, them. Apparently it went back to freshman year with Cas helping Bela through some family stuff) but he didn’t know that she’d take such an active role in trying to get them together.

He offers his entire list of excuses, from “Cas is the same with me as he is with everyone else” to “I don’t even know if he’s into guys.” Bela just rolls her eyes at every single one.

It’s only when she says, “You both can make up as many excuses as you want, but everyone can see how you’re into each other!” that Dean begins to consider the possibility that Cas might actually want him back.

But he still has to be sure. “Everyone can see?” he asks around the ball in his throat. Bela nods slowly, like she’s dealing with an idiot, and as Dean looks around, he can see the rest of the guys nodding along too, all with shit-eating grins. Well, fuck.

It’s then that he has to admit that none of his usual tricks have worked. And Cas is just so fucking friendly with everybody. Dean can’t believe he, of all people, is special to Cas.

Bela just rolls her eyes and drags Dean from the room to another empty practice room. She levels Dean with a stern glare as she threatens to “disembowel you slowly with my pinky nail if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, ever.” And then she tells him about Brady.

Apparently, Cas is gay, but his last boyfriend Brady (some dickwad who attends another school across town) spent the entire relationship actively convincing Cas that they shouldn’t ever break up because no one else would ever want him. And then when they did break-up, Brady blasted Cas on all the social sites, and at one point, even vandalized Cas’s car, spray-painting derogatory, hateful slurs across every surface. So Cas is understandably hesitant about starting a new relationship because of how Brady treated him.

But, the biggest reason he won’t let himself show interest in Dean is he still believes what Brady said. Regardless of how many people love and accept him at school and at home, there’s still a tiny part that thinks that he isn’t good enough. When Dean scoffs in anger and disbelief, Bela arches a brow and spells it out: unless Dean makes it super obvious that he’s into Cas like that...well, Cas will never make that leap on his own.

As Dean is just about to head back next door, Bela calls out, “He loves the Beatles, you know.”

Dean smirks back at her, “Give me some credit, Bela.”

That weekend, when Cas arrives at the little coffee shop the guys are playing (with Bela in tow), Dean makes sure to stop at their table before the show and compliment Cas on his new button-down. When Cas smiles up at him, blushing so prettily as he murmurs his thanks, Dean can’t help but brush his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand, sharing a long, soft smile before his giddiness carries him back up to the stage.

They start with their usual set—a couple songs that the guys had written before Dean joined, a song they’d all written together, a couple popular covers—all songs that Cas has heard before. But then, the last song before the break, Dean smiles right down at Cas as he says, “This next song is for my amazing best friend, who’s loved and appreciated by so many people...including me,” he glances down shyly as he admits, “Cas, there’s no one else I could sing this to.” He looks right back up into Cas’s shocked blue gaze, “No one else who I’d want to hold my hand.”

He nods to the guys behind him, and the bass line starts to thrum as Dean sings the first, low lines:

“Yeah, I’ll tell you something. I think you’ll understand, when I say that something: I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand.”

The tempo picks up as the others join in. “Oh please, say to me...you’ll let me be your man. And please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand. Now let me hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand.”

Cas’s cheeks burn a bright red, but he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from Dean—from his sincere eyes and kind smile—and Dean can’t bring himself to look away either. Everyone else, everything else, fades away. It’s just him and Cas as he sings the bridge.

“And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. It’s such a feeling that my love... I can’t hide...I can’t hide...I can’t hide.”

As Dean sings through the final chorus, he can see it in Cas’s face—the realization and certainty that Dean is singing this just for him.

When the song ends, Dean still can’t tear his eyes away from Cas. Chuck announces a short break, but it’s all background noise to Dean as he hops down from the stage and returns to his best friend. Their shy smiles match as Dean reaches down to intertwine their fingers together. Cas slowly stands and pulls Dean into a tight hug with his free hand, unwilling to release the hands held between them.

“I really do, you know,” Dean murmurs into Cas’s ear.

Cas pulls back just enough to let Dean really see his eyes. “I know. I’ve hoped, for so long, but I just...I couldn’t tell.”

Dean scoffs. “You couldn’t tell? You, who spends so much time looking out for other people—“

Cas rolls his eyes. “Yes, the mom friend.”

“Why do you keep calling it that?” Dean wonders, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Because that’s what I am,” Cas insists. “And no one wants to date the mom.”

Dean arches a brow. “Ever heard of Stacy’s Mom? Or MILFs? Or Mrs. Robinson? Or—“

Cas cuts him off with, “I get it, I get it.” He chuckles, brushing his nose against Dean’s. “I still don’t understand it, but I get it.”

Dean’s eyes drop to Cas’s mouth. “And you get me.”

“I do?” Cas can’t help but tease, but Dean chooses to respond with something that will erase all doubts. His lips meet Cas’s, somehow gentle and fervent and kind and sincere, each giving and taking at the same time.

When they finally part, to the sound of people clapping and cheering, Dean glances down at Bela and nods once. “Thank you.”

Cas looks down at her, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “This was you?” Bela just shrugs as she looks back down at her phone with a bored expression, “I was just so sick and tired of the eye-fucking.”

Years down the road, when Dean and Aborted Apocalypse have hit it big, Cas will use his sparse free time (you know, between his full-time job as a social worker and his classes to earn his second masters degree) to go see Dean and the others perform whenever they’re nearby. And every time Cas is at one of their shows, they play another Beatles song. But they never actually circle back around to “I Want to Hold your Hand” until the night Dean pulls Cas onstage to drop to one knee and ask him if he’ll hold his hand for the rest of their lives.

So I’ve kind of had this idea floating around in the back of my head for a while now (you know, high school nerds falling in love over music). I mean, I’d heard through the grape vine that Jensen could sing, but it wasn’t until I saw this video that I realized I had to write something with musician Dean. The song “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was originally sung by the Beatles, but the version I picture Dean singing here is closer to this slow version from the Across the Universe soundtrack. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! As always, please like and share, as that is the lifeblood for us authors on here. Ok, byeeee!

#yeah i wrote something #destiel #high school au #teenager au #musician!dean #mom friend!cas #new student!dean #beatles music

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mrsgrangermalfoy · 6 years

Text

GOT7 FIC RECS

JJP

Featherweight by foxxing

It’s been 13 years since any of them have seen Jinyoung. Spurred onward into a life of crime from their delinquent childhood on the streets, the 6 of them have risen in the underground ranks to become the most successful group of hitmen under the Knight Group. Jinyoung, having abandoned them and their lifestyle at 18, has risen to stardom as the hottest actor in Korea, but not everyone loves him: on a sunny February day, a $6 million dollar hit crosses the desks of the 6 Knights, but only one of them is bitter enough to take it.

Or: Jaebum becomes Jinyoung’s bodyguard under a fake identity to get revenge for a broken heart.

Word count: 124,000

tbh read everything by this author, they are a quality source of jjp

Anteroom by minyukie

How do you act around your ex with your child in the other room? It’s been almost a year and a half, and Jinyoung has yet to figure it out.

Word count: 76,771

i love kidfics, kinda angsty

Charade by Sugarbowl

Jaebum and Jinyoung walk parallel paths in many ways, but Jaebum isn't interested in their intersection. Jaebum struggles to support his young son on his own, while everything seems to come easy for wealthy, charming Jinyoung. But when they're forced to partner for a project, Jaebum finds himself a bit more willing, and much more in need.

Word count: 152,145

I love this author’s characterization of Jinyoung, please read it dadJB is something we all need more of

Compass Calling by Sugarbowl

Prince Jinyoung is destined for a lifetime of luxury, until he's shoved in a trunk and accidentally abducted. Im Jaebum clawed his way out of poverty to captain a pirate ship and... not much else, actually. Jinyoung could be his first real treasure, if Jaebum could just figure out how holding someone for ransom actually works.

Word count: 82,944

if you didnt think you needed a pirate fic before, YOU DO NOW, literally the fic that made me ship jjp

Wilder by Sugarbowl

Newly graduated, Jinyoung is determined to try new things. New parties, new boys, and when Mark asks for a favor, even volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. But new experiences can get complicated, and he quickly finds himself a little out of his depth.

Word Count: 76,619

why are there not more summer camp AU’s. i love this author so much they come up with the best ideas i had to rec three fics honestly just everything they’ve written you won’t regret it

Citation by KingJackson

When the one book he needs for an important term paper has to remain in the campus library, Jinyoung catches the eye of Jaebum, a library assistant.

Word count: 115,401

jinyoung’s a dick here and jb is too good for the world, quality smut, cute markson on the side, read the sequel Renewal too

Honey by crimson_calamity

It was always the handsome ones, his mother always told him: handsome boys will use you, break your heart and leave you with the pieces. Jinyoung used to think she was talking about herself but, well. Her intuition towards her son has always surprised him.

(Jinyoung doesn't think she could ever have anticipated this)

Word count: 5693

This is the first fic in the “We’re the opposite of angels” series. just read the whole series (Of all the assignments, Not quite what anyone expected, Let's make this work) cus JB as a demon is hot ok

Baggage by mertlekang

RentAU! - Jaebum and Youngjae have been living in a shitty apartment on the wrong side of town for years, struggling to pay their rent and carrying the weight of their past mistakes. With the introduction of a new neighbour, a meeting with an old flame, and the help of a stranger after a mugging, new relationships are built and their lives grow all the more complicated.

Word count: 47,081

Warning this fic made me cry, but it’s so well done i could feel the characters pain myself, it’s not solely a jjp fic, contains markson and yugbam too

Walls of Glass by hakkais_shadow, katamari

The city's social structure is firm and unyielding--Alphas at the top, Betas in the middle, and Omegas as pliant, broken servants to the Alphas. When Im Jaebum, the heir of an old Alpha family suddenly finds his social position flipped, he's thrown into a world of intrigue, deceit, and as the very unwilling servant to an even more unwilling Park Jinyoung.

Word count: 37,873

I still dunno how i feel about ABO fics but i like the power dynamic between JB and jinyoung and i found the world very interesting and well created

bloom by subsequence

Jaebum may have learned to accept his role as future king, but accepting this new role — the thought makes him sick to his stomach.

If he could have, Jaebum would have chosen any other way to present as an omega.

(Or: Omegaverse Arranged Marriage AU featuring Princes!JJP and a cast of loudmouth extras.)

Word count: 82,833

another ABO fic, but also well done, great if you love a good royalAU like me

꽃이 만발한 차 (Tea Blossom) by seitsemannen

Unlike the other companions at the Red Orchid, Jinyoung’s robes never revealed more than the slope of his neck or a sliver of his wrist, if he was being flirtatious. His clients were paying for his intelligent company and handsome face, nothing else.

The entrance of Jaebum in his life is the start of a series of exceptions.

Word count: 39000 (this is a WIP)

interesting concept, i’m intrigued to see how the story progresses

MARKSON

The Prince Who Never Laughed by seitsemannen

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, lived a beautiful and kind prince named Mark, who after his mother's loss never laughed again. That was until he met the brightly smiling apprentice of a glassblower, Jackson Wang.

Word Count: 50,000

a cute fic, i love royalAU’s

Playhouse by seitsemannen

All sorts of rumours surround the handsome Wang heir and the good-looking servants of his household, but no one seemed to know for sure, as no matter the price, the members were not willing to give the secrets of their Master up.

Mark doesn't care for celebrities or rumours, except the one that says the Wang household pays several times more than the usual servant's salary, so when there's a job opening at the House, he goes for it. In the days and weeks spent at the House, Mark gets to know the members and finds out what of the ludicrous rumours were true and what weren’t. What he did not know to expect, however, is how good friends he would become with the other members of the House, and what’s worse, that he would fall in love with Jackson Wang.

Word count: 311,000 (this is a WIP)

honestly this is like a classic, and super smutty and long

Twist by KingJackson

Mark knows Jinyoung. Jinyoung knows Jackson. Jackson hooks up with Jinyoung who also hooks up with Mark. Mark goes to hook up with Jinyoung and ends up also sleeping with Jackson. Jackson sometimes hooks up with Jaebum, but that isn’t important right now.

And they say romance is dead.

Word Count: 68,964

honestly this was the fic that made me ship markson, i wasn’t too big on them but jackson is too good here to not root for them

MARKJIN

(tbh if anyone know any good markjin fics hmu i’m struggling to find quaility ones)

Blue Neighbourhood by gotsichi7

Jinyoung lived in his own bubble until Mark came around and reminded him how precious friendship was. The bond they had was beyond any friendship Jinyoung had ever made which made Mark special to him. But school was coming to an end and after graduation, there was no telling where everyone would end up. Life threatened to break that bond or rather seperation made them realize just how special their bond was.

The relationship of Mark and Jinyoung based off of the Troye Sivan album, Blue Neighbourhood.

Word count: 43,963

angsty af, another one of those that hurts so good and you feel in your soul

Ameoto (Part 1 of 2) by aquilaprisca

In a small town, hidden beneath constant rain and shadows, Jinyoung spends his time alone lying on his mattress wondering whether the hollowness inside him will ever be filled. Somehow even the smile he perfected over the years can't even seem to save him from himself. But being the only bartender within a mile radius means Jinyoung meets people on a daily basis, and as he watches the door, and waits for the ring of the bell, he wonders sometimes if there'll ever be someone that enters his bar and changes everything for him.

Word count: 28,806

cute fic i enjoy the writing style, light angst, don’t forget to read the sequel

MARKBUM

ok so i don’t really read markbum but cutiepiemarkeu has written a huge amount of really solid markbum fics if you are interested

#got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 fic rec #got7 recs #jj project #jjp recs #markson recs #markjin recs #markson #markjin #markbum

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epicfales · 6 years

Text

The Triumph in NOT Graduating Today

In September of 2013, almost five years ago, I sat crying in my admission counselor’s office and decided to defer my education at Kalamazoo College. I had just gone deaf. I promised Suzanne, my admission counselor, that I would be back, and that she would see me graduate, and that it would all be worth it. Somewhere in the universe was my (then healthy) friend Olivia (who I hadn’t met yet), and she was embarking on a gap year adventure of her own, traveling the world. We didn’t know each other, then. Maybe in another universe we would have met sooner—maybe Olivia didn’t take a gap year, and maybe I didn’t go deaf, and maybe we both went on Land Sea (a wilderness orientation for incoming freshmen) in 2013 and became best friends. And maybe in another universe we both intentionally took a gap year and went on global adventures before starting college. And today in that other universe, on June 17, 2018, we are both graduating from Kalamazoo College.

In case you’re reading this and don’t know anything about me and Olivia, neither of us are graduating from Kalamazoo College, today—at least, not in this universe. And I think, for both of us, on some level, this feels like some sort of failure. Olivia was diagnosed with Acute myeloid leukemia (AML) while on a backpacking trip in the summer of 2015. She had to put her education on hold. You can read more about her story, here: http://livfor.life/. My story is published on this blog, but I stopped writing at some point, and avoided updating people on my very personal reality. To summarize, I spontaneously left K in the summer of 2016, for reasons that I have trouble articulating. I tell people that I wanted to try art school, but looking back I think that was a decision I made after deciding to leave K. The reality was that I was becoming sicker—fall quarter of 2015 was rough, winter 2015 involved several experimental immunotherapy treatments, and spring 2016 felt like a sprint to some sort of imaginary finish line. I had one advisor tell me that I had virtually no chance of being successful in academia if I continued to miss school. It crushed me. My education was everything to me, but I couldn’t keep up the way I wanted to, and it made me feel as if I were failing. I have no doubt that leaving K was necessary. In the fall of 2016 I caught pneumonia, and between then and now I’ve coped with various infections and maladies that have made it incredibly difficult to be a student. I’m barreling through college, taking a semester at a time, and sometimes experiencing setbacks that never cease to humble me.

Why am I now writing about all of this? Well, Olivia is back. I met Olivia in my Intro to Sociology and Anthropology course, and we bonded over our love for the outdoors. We had similar Osprey backpacks and similar bubbling personalities, and we connected. Our friendship evolved in the summer of 2016 when we found ourselves in hospital beds on opposite sides of the country—she in California, and I in Michigan. She was undergoing treatment for her cancer, and I was treating a minor case of Bell’s Palsy. It was 3:00 AM my time, and we texted for hours. We bonded over our mutual frustration with our bodies, and we discussed things larger than ourselves. It was beautiful. Our diseases are so different, but our experiences are not so different. We both felt nostalgia for the lives that might have been. We wondered (although not out loud) what those lives would have been like, if we would have been happier, etc. There’s a special kind of loneliness in being twenty-one years old, and being awake in a dark hospital room in the middle of the night. Talking to Olivia made it infinitely less lonely. My nurse came in to check on me, and he saw how happy I was. I could only smile with one side of my face, but my eyes lit up, and I felt a level of peace that somehow feels like a genuine gift from God.

So, Olivia is here. It is my first time seeing her since she left K in 2015, and she came back for our class’s graduation. We woke up at 7:00 AM and went on a breakfast adventure. We had a super-soul conversation, which lasted several hours. We are both physically weak, though we’ve dealt with more physical stress than most people deal with in a lifetime. We compared pill boxes and medication side-effects, and we talked about our insecurities. Please understand, it’s almost impossible for sick people to have friends. Our friends are afraid of us, they are terrified of our lived experiences, and this makes it very difficult to have authentic relationships. Most people in their twenties do not want to talk about poop, or puss, or bones, or chemo, or health insurance, or living or dying. When two sick people come together, it’s a validation of our shared truths. We are both lonely, despite the fact that we are surrounded by people. We are scared. We are embarrassed. We feel shame for our bodies, and we feel vulnerable, even though we know that this is all beyond our control. It’s difficult, okay? And we rarely acknowledge how difficult it is.

I don’t often talk about mental health, but I had a clinical nervous breakdown this past December. I was humiliated, and it felt like an out of body experience--pardon the cliche, but I snapped like a rubber band. However, the more I talked to people, the more I realized that I was fine—at least, that the emotional release I experienced was something that was valid, and very necessary. For people like me and Olivia, we are expected to be “inspirational.” We are beacons of light, and our positivity throughout increasingly dark experiences stirs something beautiful in others. Do you know how exhausting it is to be inspirational all the time? We are expected to take everything that comes, and to persevere with enthusiasm. People tell us we are strong, and damn right we are strong, but it isn’t like we have a choice. We endure, because we have no other option. You don’t see us raging at God, begging for mercy, crying, throwing up from pain. You don’t see our mothers worry about us, you don’t see them sacrificing everything for us, and you don’t see the toll our illnesses take on our families. Being sick is not glamorous. It’s ugly, and raw, and incredibly human.

Both Olivia and I are the kind of people who believe in barreling through. We both immediately turned to blogging when our physical health began to spiral. We both put on tough faces, and insisted that we were fine. I asked Olivia why she felt like she needed to come to this graduation—I don’t want to be within a thousand miles of this graduation—and I think we both needed to sit and reflect, and try to cope with our present realities. There is a quote by Cheryl Strayed that I think is appropriate, here: “I'll never know, and neither will you, of the life you don't choose. We'll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn't carry us. There's nothing to do but salute it from the shore.” We sat in my air conditioned Subaru, looking out over the Kalamazoo skyline, and aptly saluted our sister lives.

An interesting fact about Olivia and I is that even when sitting in a parked car, we both insist on keeping our seatbelts on. The physical trauma that our bodies have endured makes us feel perpetually unsafe. We talked about why this is. How could it be that our guts and souls felt so uneasy, even though our minds logically know that we are fine? I want to make a point about this, because this is what our lives are like on a good day. And this was a good day. This was my first time eating out since emergency surgery last Monday. Olivia flew across the country, and walked up several flights of stairs. This is as good as it gets. This is as close to “normal” as we get. And yet, we still feel uneasy. We still feel this dark cloud of danger and despair. It’s important to recognize that we don’t normally confront this cloud. No one wants us to confront this cloud. People want to hear about acute trauma, and tales of triumph—they don’t want to hear about the day-to-day lives of the chronically ill. And in so many ways, that invalidates our existence. The world goes on when we take our daily naps, and we feel as if we shouldn’t be napping, because we are twenty-three years old, and dammit, we should be doing stuff. But we are doing stuff. Every day is a triumph for us. We get out of bed, and we take baby steps towards wellness.

When I first began this blog in 2012, I wanted it to be a tale of triumph and recovery. I wanted a beginning, middle, and end to my story. Now, in 2018, I realize that my disease isn’t something I can conquer and eradicate. No matter what happens, Olivia and I will always live with the threat of that dark cloud—we will always be at risk. In so many ways, this makes us angry. What is important is that we do not sit in this anger. We need to meet it, confront it, and give it a safe place in the back of our minds. Because without anger we wouldn’t have the capacity for compassion and forgiveness. We live in a world of people with complex stories, and we have nothing to gain from resenting those whose lives seem less troubled than ours. Today, we listen to our ex-classmates worry about the heat or the possibility of rain for graduation. To be honest, it feels exasperating. Healthy people are hard to be around, yes, but we cannot invalidate someone else’s genuine emotion. A quote from Brené Brown’s Rising Strong works well, here:

“The opposite of scarcity is not abundance; the opposite of scarcity is simply enough. Empathy is not finite, and compassion is not a pizza with eight slices. When you practice empathy and compassion with someone, there is not less of these qualities to go around. There’s more. Love is the last thing we need to ration in this world. The refugee in Syria doesn’t benefit more if you conserve your kindness only for her and withhold it from your neighbor who’s going through a divorce. Yes, perspective is critical. But I’m a firm believer that complaining is okay as long as we piss and moan with a little perspective. Hurt is hurt, and every time we honor our own struggle and the struggles of others by responding with empathy and compassion, the healing that results affects all of us.”

I think, this is what it means to be triumphant. It does not matter that we are not walking across a stage, today. That life was not for us. It is a sister life, a ghost ship that we must wave to from the shore.

On my way home from breakfast with Olivia, I listened to Oprah’s podcast where she interviews swimmer Diana Nyad, whose motto is “find a way.” I think this applies to not only us, but to all people. There is sublime beauty in endurance, in pushing our bodies past the realm of human possibility. For Diana Nyad, that meant swimming from Florida to Cuba. For Olivia and I, it means something different. Make no mistake, Oivia and I have stories of triumph, and so do you. They might not be the stories we wanted, but they are ours—singular and our own.

#deaf #autoimmune #cogans #coganssyndrome #cochlear implant #chronic illness #hearing #cancer #anger #compassion #friends #cheryl strayed #brene brown #oprah #oprah winfrey

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sweetpxsin · 7 years

Text

Ong Seongwoo : Bestfriends to Lovers

•Honestly you had no idea how this friendship happened

•Both of you were just young little saps probably around the age of 5

•You were shy yet still playful while Seongwoo was super friendly and super energetic *inserts winking face*

•Alright anyway you were just minding your own business coloring with your crayons when he came up to you

•He literally sat down in front of you and said these exact words

•”You look lonely, wanna be bestfriends.”

•He didn’t even give you a second to reply before smiling and saying “great!”

•Thus started the beautiful or hectic whatever you prefer friendship

•Like honestly Seongwoo wouldn’t let you color ever again unless he was tired

•Only then he would lay on his back or sit and watch you color or draw, but expect him to be talking to you nonstop

•You were still a little quiet shy but grew to understand that he was going to be your best friend whether you like it or not

•It didn’t bother you too much though. Since you were shy it was nice to have a friend that could make you laugh till your tummy hurt and manage to make you smile when you were upset

•When middle school came around Seongwoo had started showing an interest in dance and made another friend named Kang Daniel

•And thus came the power trio ongniel(insertname)

•But you were still number one in Seongwoo’s and he still managed to make you top priority because you were his bestie since basically forever

•If you were uncomfortable he would try to lighten the atmosphere and take away the discomfort

•if you had a bad day he would try to find a way to make you smile again

•if you were being honest it was probably those things that made you fall for Seongwoo

•But you didn’t take it too seriously because you both were young and honestly who takes young love seriously

•y’all both were 4th graders

•You were right anyways your feelings for Seongwoo dwindled and you went back to loving him as a brother

•Anywayssss all three of you went to same high school and since all of you were so close it was only natural your classmates had ended up shipping one of you with another

•It would have annoyed all three of you if it hadn’t been for Ong making fun of the ships

•Especially when he would act out the over exaggerated things people would say one of you guys had supposedly done with each other

•Like once Ong had caught you because you tripped and later that day he overheard some girls over exaggerating what had happened so he acted it out for both of you like the girls had said it happen and it ended up with you guys being in a laughing fit

•That was probably the only time you guys had actually cared about said ships

•Other than that you guys were just best friends that were as close as siblings

•You went to Ong and Daniel’s dance club to cheer them on and they’d always encourage you on the hobbies you had picked up

•But remember that crush you had one Ong in like 4th grade

•Yeah honey it’s back to bite you in the butt

•It had started when you actually gave your own divided attention to Ong when he showed you some of his freestyle, like he went out of his way to make sure you were the one to see it first

•Because he had made it clear you were the first one to only see it, you lowkey kinda felt special because he didn’t show Daniel and you like usual

•It didn’t stop there though

•You started to like how Ong would brush his hand against yours before holding it/playing with it and how he would still make it his duty to make sure you smiled and laughed no matter how bad your day was

•Daniel caught on and instantly started teasing you about it ending up with you hitting him while he just laughed his ass off

•The interaction you shared together didn’t go unnoticed by Ong and he got a little jealous and would often walk head of the both of you instead of at the left of you

•Ong had managed to develop feelings for you but was pretty decent at hiding it along with his jealousy

•But hiding his jealous was slowly getting more difficult because girls were shipping you with Daniel more and more, which is a straight no no in Seongwoo’s book

•The last straw though was when he was about to call you to tell you about his feelings but he had caught Daniel pulling you off to the side

•Out of curiosity he peeked a bit to see what was going on

•He felt crushed when he saw you blushing like mad while Daniel was smiling like a happy child

•Ong thought that the only logical reason for both of your reaction was because Daniel had confessed to you

•He wouldn’t have really minded to be honest but when you guys acted like nothing happened he was slightly annoyed and instead of confronting you he straight up became petty ong

•Once he saw you in study hall you had called him and he ended up throwing his sweater in your face

•”Yah!” Ong looked back at you and shrugged saying he meant to throw it on his desk before walking off to talk to his other guy and girls friends.

•You brushed it off and tried to do your work but failed miserably

•Ong was talking a little too loud and the girls with him were laughing louder than usual

•Not only that but whenever you dared glance in his direction he’d have his arm over one of them

• In the end when study hall ended you walked to Daniel’s class room and waited for him with your arms crossed

•Ong noticed and his heart break a little seeing you with your lips pursed a little as you waited for Daniel

•He wanted you to look slightly impatient as you waited for him outside of his class

•It made him even more jealous for when he had caught you hit him lightly, complaining about how he took to long before your pout was replaced with a smile

•He tore his eyes away from you and headed to lunch and decided to sit with the same girls because he couldn’t stand seeing you with Daniel

•At lunch you noticed Ong’s lack of presence and quickly searched the cafeteria for him to see if he was lingering anywhere

•You saw him sitting with the same girls he was talking to in study hall and placed your head on the table having lost your appetite

•The whole time during lunch Daniel ended up comforting you while occasionally handing you pieces of food since he didn’t want you to get hungry

•In all honesty Daniel felt like a relationship counselor and which both of you weren’t so dense, he could tell both you liked each other rip

•”Why don’t you just tell him how you feel after school?”

•”Are you nuts he’s been avoiding me”

•”Give it a try I can smell a petty Ong a mile away”

•Sooooo after your two last periods you decide to that you’d go with Daniel’s suggestion and waited at the front doors since you were always the first to wait

•Once you saw Ong you quickly pulled him to the side no questions asked and dragged him to a less populated area

•”can we talk?”

•”about what?”

•Just with how indifferent his tone sounded had managed to knock your confidence at it’s very low

•”Ong we’ve know each other since we were little and I never thought I would ever be at this moment in my life where facing you is so difficult. Your smile makings my knees go weak, your laugh can warm up any room, you made me feel special when I thought no one would ever like me...”

•You guys met his and you swallowed dryly

•”Shouldn’t you be saying this to Daniel.”

•”W-what?”

•”It’s alright I saw what happened in school today I’m over it.”

•”What are you talking about?”

•”You know what I’m talking about! Daniel confessed to you finally didn’t he!?”

•You were shocked because Ong had never raised his voice at you and because Daniel never confessed to you

•”You’re making this hard for me (y/n). Daniel beat me to asking you out. He told you I liked you too, right? You don’t have to make me feel special just so you can put ease on your own heart.”

•You suddenly thought that Ong had caught Daniel pulling you off the side to have a private talk with you

•”Ong..,, Daniel never asked me out he pulled me… He pulled me to the side because he was trying to give me advice on how I should… You know confess to a certain dummy I like.”

•You had to bite back the smile that was creeping on your lips as Ong’s eyes widened slightly

•”Right… I knew that.”

•You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shyness it was just the cutest thing ever

•”Soo…I was wonder if you liked me back…”

•”No I just said all that to be nice I like Daniel oppa better.”

•He rolled his eyes and pulled you into a tight hug

•”Liar, Ong oppa makes your knees weak with his smile, and warms up a room with his laugh and makes you feel special when you no one less can~”

•You hummed in agreement and placed your head against his chest tightening your grip on the hug a little

•”I’m sorry for accusing you earlier.. It’s just that I really like you and I didn’t like it when others would ship you two together. I wanted you as mine.”

•”Your such a dummy.”

•”But I’m your dummy

•With a smile Ong cupped your face before pulling you into kiss.

•Oh and dating Ong Seongwoo would mean you guys are the most extra couple in the school

•Like literally on valentine's day he bought you a huge teddy bear that was taller than him and said “Here for when you mess me but I can’t come over”

•You guys would be that one couple that wears matching outfits for the lolz of it

•But Ong would also love to shower you in kisses and hugs and of course make sure you laugh everyday because of him

•Over all dating him would be the cutest and funniest thing ever.

#ong seongwoo #ong seongwoo imagines #ong seongwoo scenarios #wanna one ong seongwoo #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines

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