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johnsbleu · 4 years

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 89

warnings: none, just lengthy speeches HMH masterlist

Before the speeches started, you and John quickly snuck into the house to take a shot of his more expensive whiskey since you’re both incredibly nervous. You’re still a little nervous to get up there in front of everyone, but you know that if John can do it, then you can too.

Jimmy kept his speech pretty short, but he got plenty of laughs from everyone. He talked all about how John is a great guy, and how much he adores you. He even told a story about John that you hadn’t heard before -- it was tame enough for your wedding thankfully. He didn’t get as sappy as he did during your ceremony, but it was a good speech nonetheless.

Tess is holding the mic firmly in her hand as she stands in front of everyone, and you smile at her, completely captivated by how comfortable she is to be in front of so many people. You’re definitely going to need at least two more drinks to stand up there and deliver your speech.

“Hey, everyone, how’s it going? Most, if not all, of you know me, but if, for some incredibly weird reason you don’t, I’m Tess, and I am the big sister of that beautiful bride right there.” she says, looking at you. She inhales deeply and looks back out at everyone, “I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. I know how much it means to both Y/N and John to have you all here. I’m so happy that they’re able to share their special day with you all.”

You and Tess never even talked about a speech, and you’re squeezing John’s hand and praying she won’t say anything to embarrass the two of you.

“I’ll try to keep this short -- ever since I’ve had my baby, I’m very emotional.” she says, and you hear some light laughter. “Our relationship has always been a unique one. I mean, how many people can say that their sister is also their best friend and actually mean it? I fully mean it when I say that Y/N is my best friend. I don’t know anyone quite like her; she’s just amazing. Since everyone here knows me, you probably know how protective I am of her. I will do whatever I have to do to protect that girl.”

You reach over for a tissue and quickly wipe away a tear in the corner of your eye, and you look over at John as he smiles at you. He places his left hand on your back and rubs it, then he pulls your chair a little closer to him.

“When we moved here for our fresh start, I tried to get her to date some people, but she was not having it. She wanted to take her time, and I understood that.” Tess looks at you and laughs, “She was going to do things on her term and at her own pace. I was totally cool with that, until I get a little fed up with her one day and made her go outside to check the mail because I wanted her to get out of the house. Best thing I ever made you do, huh?”

You laugh as you nod your head, “Yeah.”

“She met the love of her life; she met John. Now, I had seen John around a few times. Seen him walking Bleu around the block a time or two, and we’d always joke about how hot he was, but even then, Y/N didn’t give it much thought. I don’t think she ever really even looked at him. Not because she didn’t think he was attractive -- we all know John is attractive. Y/N didn’t want to look, because looking meant potentially liking this guy, which could lead to heartbreak.” Tess looks at you and smiles, “But…she finally met him, and she immediately hit it off with him.”

John wraps his arm around the back of your chair and pulls you closer to him so he can press a kiss to the top of your head, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you whisper back before you look at Tess as she finishes her speech.

“The first time I met John, I didn’t even have to turn on my protective big sister mode.” she looks at John and smiles, “John already had his protective mode on, and he was already protecting my sister. I could see it in the way he would ever so gently touch her arm or back, the way he would give her his undivided attention, the way he looks at her. Look at him, look at the way this man looks at my sister. Are you kidding me?”

Every person under the pavilion turns to look at you and John, and you laugh when you hear someone yell for the two of you to kiss. John smiles as he leans over to kiss you, and you sigh contently as you lean back and look at him. Yup, he’s pretty much in love with you.

“Come on.” Tess jokingly groans, pulling everyone’s attention back to her, “I promise I’m almost done. Ever since I met John, I knew he was the one for her. I knew he was the one she was going to marry and spend her life with. I just knew -- I am her big sister, and big sisters are always right.”

You roll your eyes playfully at Tess, “Yeah, yeah.”

“This past year, I’ve been able to grow closer to John, or as I like to call him, Old Man Wick. He’s the brother that I never got to have. He’s not only protective of my little sister, he’s protective of me as well, and I know mom takes comfort in knowing that.” Tess smiles, and you look over at your mom, who is full on crying. “John is…such a good guy, I can’t even begin to describe how good of a man he is -- I’m sure Y/N will do it for me when she gets up here. Anyway, I’ll stop talking now if you want.”

The crowd lets out a laugh, and you shake your head at Tess so she’ll continue -- you just love hearing her thoughts on John.

“John and Y/N, the love that you two share is inspiring. The way you two love each other, trust each other, encourage each other, it’s…incredible. How open and honest you are with one another, it’s really admirable. Your love grows with every passing day, and it just gets deeper and deeper. I can’t wait to see you two as parents when that day comes, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two because, whether you like or not, John, I’m not going anywhere! I love you two.”

Tess puts the mic down on the table, then she quickly walks over to hug you. She throws her arms around John and rocks from side to side with him, then she presses a kiss to his cheek.

John reaches out for your hand as he walks over to grab the mic, then he smiles when you look at him. He looks so handsome and happy tonight. His hair is fluffy, of course, but it is combed back just a little bit. His dark eyes are so warm and so damn full of happiness that it causes you to grow a little teary eyed every time you look at him -- you’ve never seen John so happy.

You inhale shakily as you take the mic from John, then you hold it in your hands, “On behalf of my husband and I, we’d like to thank you all for coming. We really appreciate that you’d want to be a part of our day.”

“I can do it.” John whispers, reaching out for the mic. He takes the mic from you, then he points at the chair next to Tess, “Go sit down, baby.”

You widen your eyes and smile, “You’re gonna do this without me?”

“This is all for you.” he says, and for a moment, you think he’s about to burst out in song.

You sit down next to Tess and clasp your hands in front of your chest as John shuffles in place a little bit. John looks so nervous up there, but you’re excited to hear what he has to say.

“So, I know I just met a lot of you for the first time tonight, and if we haven’t met yet, I’m John.” he says, and you smile when he looks at you, “And I am now married to that beautiful woman right there. I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. It really does mean so much to, not only Y/N, but me as well.”

You’re already beginning to tear up, and you don’t know how you’re ever going to make it through the rest of his speech without sobbing, or running to his side to be with him. He’s barely even started and you’re already tearing up!

“This might come as a shock to a lot of people, but I’m a few years older than Y/N.” he says, and you jokingly gasp. “And I’ve been married once already. I was married for 5 years, but I unfortunately lost my wife. She was ill and she passed away, and I lost everything when she died.”

On the surface, it sounds like John is referring to Helen as his everything -- and he was -- but not entirely. After Helen passed, John did lose everything. He lost his love, his home, his freedom, and almost his life. You’re more than aware of that.

“After she passed, I was in quite a tough position.” he says, and you let out a small laugh. “Life was a little…rocky, I was unsure of a lot of things, but in the end, I got back to Mill Neck and kind of got back to trying to live a normal life, a life that I so badly wanted.”

“I think he’s working his way up to me.” Jimmy says, and when John looks at you, you nod towards Jimmy.

John is definitely working his way up to Jimmy, and you already know he’s going to thank every person in this room. You can’t wait for it.

“So, I get back to Mill Neck. I’m just living my life, and I run into Jimmy, who is my best man tonight. Jimmy is a great guy, and he said some pretty great stuff about me earlier during our ceremony that I don’t think I’d be able to top.” he says, then he chuckles a little, “Jimmy is a good pal of mine, but no offense, Jimmy, you had horrible taste when it came to setting me up on dates.”

“I won’t argue with that, man.” Jimmy says, lifting his drink.

“If I’m being honest, I wasn’t completely ready to date when Jimmy had set me up on a few dates. I figured that’s what my late wife would want me to do though. She wanted me to get out there and live my life again. So, I agreed to a few dates. Some were horrible, some actually weren’t so bad, and I ended up making a pretty good friend instead.” he says, and he smiles at Jen, then he looks over at you again, “But the moment I saw my beautiful wife, that was the moment I knew I was ready to date again. She was just living right across the street when I saw her for the first time. It was like this switch had been turned on in my body, and my sights were set on her. I had to know this woman.”

John takes a pause for a moment, and he puts his hand on his hip like he’s trying to figure out what to say next. He doesn’t even have a piece of paper that he’s reading from, so honestly, he’s doing great on his own. John takes a deep breath and that's when you realize he's not pausing because he can't think of what to say, he's pausing because he's getting choked up.

“I wanted to know her, but there was something about her that made me absolutely terrified.” he says, and you hear a few people laugh. “I tried to introduce myself to her twice, and both times I got too nervous and backed out. I’m a grown man, but this woman scared the absolute shit out of me.”

You roll your eyes playfully at John, “Oh, whatever!”

“I finally introduced myself to her, and right after I scolded myself for not doing it sooner. She was so sweet and soft spoken when I met her -- not that she isn’t now, but now she’s a little spit fire.” he says, and you shrug bashfully. “As a result of getting to know her, I got closer to my best man, Jimmy. It was also cool to see Jimmy and Y/N instantly hit it off. They’re great friends, and they love to tease Tess and I. They randomly burst out in song, which leaves Tess and I completely stunned. They’ve randomly choreographed dances, they go out to lunch every once in a while, and they’re just great friends.”

It’s true! You and Jimmy have become great friends over the past year, and you do burst out in song and make up dances sometimes when John and Tess aren’t around. You also love to tease John and Tess. Jimmy is a great guy, and even if he wasn’t married to Tess, you’d still love him because he’s just a fun guy to be around and he’s such a great friend to John.

“Jimmy, I want to thank you for making my ass get out of the house and introduce myself to her. I’m truly grateful for our friendship, and I’m grateful that you agreed to officiate our wedding today. We couldn’t have had anyone better for it.” he says, and everyone laughs when Jimmy gets up and hugs John.

Wiping away the tear on your cheek, you stand up and hug Jimmy tight when he walks over to sit back down at the table. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then he cups your face in his hands.

“Love you, sis.”

You press a kiss to his cheek and smile, “Love you, Jimmy.”

John takes a deep breath and exhales as he looks over at Tess, “And that brings me to you. Tess, you look beautiful tonight. That’s what you told me to say, right?”

“I think the word I used was radiant, but beautiful works too.” Tess laughs, and John chuckles as he shakes his head.

“I want to thank you for how much support you have given to Y/N. You’ve been an incredible friend and sister to her, and she’s learned a lot from you. I mean it. She has. I know she’s picked up some of her snark from you, so again, thank you.” he says sarcastically, then he gives Tess a wink, “You really are a great friend to me, too. It’s nice knowing that I can call you up, and you’re willing to help me out. Over this past year, you really have become my little sister.”

Tess puts her hand over her heart, then she blows a kiss to John as she laughs, “I love you, old man Wick.”

“Ah, yes, always grateful for those nicknames as well.” John laughs, turning his attention towards your mom. “Mom, I want to start off by thanking you for raising such an incredible woman. She is, by far, the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She’s kind, generous, understanding, loving, and so much more. She is a great reflection of you. She got all of her best traits from you. From the first time that I met you, you welcomed me into your family immediately. You told me to call you mom seconds after I met you. I had only been dating your daughter for a little less than three months when I asked for your permission to marry her, and you said yes.”

Your mom is in tears and nods her head, “Of course, Jonathan.”

“Dad, I’m so grateful that Y/N as a father like you. And knowing that you love her like she’s your own really does mean a lot to me. Thank you both for giving me permission to take on the role of protecting and loving your daughter. It’s one that I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.” John says, smiling at both your mom and Dan, “She is my top priority every single day, and I promise to love her endlessly.”

Your mom immediately gets up to hug John and the two of them exchange a few words, and you see them both wiping tears off their cheeks. Dan reaches out to shake John’s hand, then they hug quickly. John is definitely going to be focusing on you for the last bit of his speech, so you reach over and grab Jimmy’s beer and take a big sip.

“I’m next.” you say, and Tess laughs as she pulls out a few tissues, “Yeah, gonna need those.”

John looks like he wants to throw up and if he didn’t want to finish his speech, you’d totally understand. He’s been talking for nearly five minutes already, and you have no idea how he’s doing it, you would have fainted by now. Then again, John has had a few drinks today and you don't blame him one bit.

“You knew I had to save the best for last.” John says, and you immediately begin to tear up when he smiles. “First of all, you look…so beautiful today. I keep looking at you and every time, I’m just stopped in my tracks by how gorgeous you are. An absolute vision. Even without your hair all done and your makeup and your beautiful dress, you take my breath away. Just laying on the couch with your hair all up in a pile on top of your head, wearing one of my sweatshirts that probably has some sort of food stain on it, you still blow me away.”

You laugh as you playfully roll your eyes, “Thank you for that.”

“I get to spend the rest of my life with you. How lucky am I?” he smiles, and you gesture to him. “And every time I say that to you, you reply with…”

“I get to spend the rest of my life with you, so how lucky are we?”

“Earlier today when we exchanged our vows in private, you said to me that you have faith in our love. I have so much faith in our love as well, but part of me was nervous that you weren’t going to show up today. I was afraid that you had realized what you were getting yourself into, and you and Tess were almost out of the state.” he laughs, and everyone joins in. “I want to thank you for allowing me to get to know you and for allowing me to love you. This past year has flown by, and it’s easily been the best year I’ve ever had.”

Grabbing a tissue from Tess, you dab away the tears in your eyes as you watch John tearing up a little more. John begins to get a little choked up, and you move to the edge of your seat and prepare yourself to take over for him. He clears his throat a little, then he looks up and smiles at you.

“When I asked her what kind of wedding she wanted, I figured she’d want something pretty small. Because if I’ve learned one thing this past year, it’s that she hates to be the center of attention. We have that in common, so the fact that I’m standing up here and have been talking for the past ten minutes, I can see how stunned she is.”

“I am beyond stunned, but I’m so proud!” you smile, clasping your hands in front of your chest, “So proud, baby!”

John laughs, the he looks back out at everyone, “All of my life, I've craved this sense of normalcy that I could never find. I found it temporarily with my late wife, but then I lost it when I lost her. I thought there was no way I'd ever get it again. Until I saw this woman. But this time, it was different. This was something I had never felt before.”

“God, he is crushing this speech.” Tess says, and you smile proudly.

John turns to face you a little more, and it’s suddenly like everyone else has disappeared. It’s just you and John now.

“The more I get to know you, the more I fall in love with you. I still fall in love with you every single day.” he says, and you both smile at each other, “Just knowing that I have you in my life is so comforting. You know everything, and I mean, everything there is to know about me, and you’ve accepted me nonetheless. Baby, just think back to that first month, this time last year…”

You look at John as you think it through in your head and frown a little when you realize that the first month you met John, you were falling head over heels in love with him, but you didn’t know anything about him. He was hiding a huge part of his life from you. But here you are, a whole year later, and the two of you are married. Your bond is unbreakable, and it’s all because of the two of you. You made John feel comfortable enough to open his heart and let you in, and he shared his most private secret with you: he’s a fucking assassin.

“We’ve come a long way in such a short amount of time, haven’t we?”

You nod as you wipe away the tear on your cheek, “Yeah, we have.”

“I love you in ways that I never knew were possible, and I love you for so many reasons that I won’t even get into because I know everyone's dying for me to stop talking.” he says as you both start to laugh. “You are my absolute best friend. You’re my -- Tess, don’t cringe -- you’re my peach.”

You look over at Tess as you laugh, then you reach for her hand when you see she’s crying softly.

“You have taught me so much about life in just a short amount of time. You’ve changed my whole outlook on life, to be honest. No relationship is easy, you and I both know that. Ours certainly hasn’t always been, especially not that first month or two last year. But with you by my side, I know that we can get through anything life throws our way. Baby, you have my entire heart, and I love you more than you’ll ever understand. Thank you for giving me purpose.” John grabs his drink off the table and holds it up, “If you’d all raise a glass to my beautiful bride. To Y/N, thank you.”

Glasses cling and people cheer as you get up and walk over to John. You throw your arms around his neck as you press your lips to his, and he lifts you off the of ground, hugging you tight to his chest.

“I don’t think I have it in me to make a speech.” you laugh as he sets you back down.

John shakes his head, “You don’t have to. Today is your day.”

“It’s our day.” you say, taking the mic from John, “Okay, well, as you can see, he’s absolutely amazing. He’s pretty crazy about me, too. Sit down, Wick. It’s your turn.”

John quickly grabs his drink, then he sits down next to Tess, and he looks like a little kid who is about to listen to his mom tell him a fantastic story. It’s odd being up in front of everyone without John next to you, but when you look over and see the smile on his face, you know that you can get through this.

You can do this, you can do this without crying!

“A bride’s speech isn’t quite a traditional thing, but like I’ve said a few times today, we’re not very traditional.” you turn to Tess and hold her gaze, “Tess, we’ve had one hell of an adventure this past year and a half. You and I moved here, we got jobs at a bookshop, we met wonderful men, and you even had a baby! Who would have ever thought that this is how our lives would turn out? Certainly not us. It’s funny because on our long ass road trip here, Tess was trying to cheer me up a little. I was sad to be leaving mom behind, and I was scared for how much my life would change. I was scared that I was going to hate it here. But Tess, she kept saying that this could be the move that changed our lives. That we could really find ourselves and who knows, maybe we’d even meet some cute guys.”

Tess laughs, “I wasn’t wrong!”

“You weren’t. You weren’t wrong at all.” you smile, then you take a deep breath, “Thank you for standing by my side today and every day since we were…well, since we were born. Tess, you are my sister and I couldn’t prouder of you if I tried. Thank you for pestering me endlessly to go check the mail on this day one year ago. If I hadn’t, I never would have met John. Jimmy, thank you for not only being a great husband to my sister, but a great friend to John and I. I really do love you a lot, and I’m so glad that you were the one to officiate our wedding.”

You promised your mom that you wouldn’t do too big of a speech for her because she knew she’d cry way too hard, and there’s no way you’d get through it either without sobbing.

“My mom made me promise that I wouldn’t do a big speech for her because she knew we’d both cry. So, mom, I just want to thank you for being the best mom. Thank you for not shoving John out the front door when you first met him, and thank you for not freaking out when you found out some of the details of John’s life.”

You reach out and hug your mom, and she kisses your cheek a few times before you lean over and hug Dan, thanking him as well.

“I know you’re all dying for me to shut up, and trust me, I’m sick of my own voice, but I have to thank one last person.” you say, smiling when you look at John, “My husband! Jonathan, you are the absolute perfect person for me. You know just how to love me and just what to say to make me feel better when I’m having a shitty day -- which isn’t too often anymore.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I always thought that I was a rather hard person to love, well, more like I’d been made to believe that I was a hard person to love. That the things I wanted in a relationship were too much for people. But after being with you, I realized the things I wanted in a relationship are things that should just be given naturally. You have made loving me look so effortless, and seeing how you so effortlessly love me made me realize that I could love myself. I have never loved myself more than I do now that I’m with you. You have made me the best version of myself.”

You take a deep breath as you walk a little closer to John, and he reaches out for your hand and squeezes it in his.

“Now I know that’s not the best thing to say. You should already love yourself, and all of those things, but John made me realize that it was okay to love myself. It was okay to forgive myself for things in the past. The thing is, I was teaching John the same exact thing. We had no idea. I was so busy teaching John to love himself and forgive himself, and just allow himself to be happy that I didn’t even realize he was doing the same thing for me.”

You know you’re talking way too much, but maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe even the way John is looking at you that is stopping you for ending your speech. Not to mention the fact that it feels amazing to say these things to John in front of your entire family. You’d definitely say them to his face, but the fact that you’re so unafraid to voice your feelings in front of other people is really liberating.

“You are everything that I have looked for in a husband. You’re kind and generous, you’re funny as hell, you offer warmth and security. You protect me on days when I’m feeling a little fragile, and you stand back and let me shine when it’s my moment to do so. You love me completely, just as I love you. You’ve accepted me for me, for all my flaws -- yes, contrary to popular belief, I do have a few. And this is why our relationship works so well, you and I, we have completely given ourselves to one another and accepted each other for the things that other people might not have. Jonathan, I just really fucking love you.”

John cups your face in his hands and pulls you down to kiss him, “I just really fucking love you, too.”

You wipe away the tear on your cheek, then you stand back up, “John, from the moment I met you, I knew that you were going to be the man I loved forever. And I know a lot of people here probably think we’re just making this shit up, that we don’t really talk like this to each other, but Tess can confirm that we do.”

Tess laughs as she nods her head, “Oh, they do. Trust me, everyone. They’re always like this. Very sappy!”

“I know I keep saying that I’m going to stop talking, but I keep getting carried away by how much I love this man.” you say, looking out of everyone, “I truly love this man, and I could sit up here and talk about him endlessly, talk about how I feel about him, how he remembers the smallest, most intimate details of our relationship, how he always makes sure that my burgers never have pickles on them, which is a big deal! I could tell you all about how he bought a fucking bookshop for me, how he clings to me at night when we go to bed, how I know, without a doubt, that this man is head over heels in love with me. I could tell you every last detail of our relationship, everything we've been through, good and bad, but I still don’t think you’d all understand how much love I have for him.”

John reaches out for your hand again when you begin to tear up even more, and he tugs your fingers a little to get you to look at him. He gives the sweetest, most genuine smile, then he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Thank you for everything you did to make our day so special. A lot of you might not know this, but…” you look up at the pavilion and smile, “John built this whole thing with his two hands. Him and Jimmy spent a whole weekend building it.”

You see everyone look around at the pavilion, and they’re in awe that John was able to build something like this. He’s quite a mystery to all of them.

“Jonathan Charles Wick, thank you for loving me with no hesitation. Thank you for trusting me to know the most intimate details about your life. I love you even more with every passing day. I’m ready to dive head first into the next chapter of our lives, as long as you promise to hold my hand.” you say, smiling when John reaches out for your hand again, “I wish I had a cool way to end my speech like John did, but…here we are. Wick, I fucking love you.”

John gets up as fast as he can, and he pulls you into his arms as you both begin to cry again. Your makeup is probably running all down your face as a result, but in this moment, you just don’t care. You just want to be in John’s arms.

You exhale loudly as you lean back to look at him, “Was that okay? I have no idea what I just said. I think I blacked out.”

John laughs as he nods his head, “Me too. I had to take another shot to be able to get through my speech, but I needed to say all of those things to you and your family. You deserved to hear those things. You deserved a better speech than I gave you, but I was nervous.”

“It was a beautiful speech. People who don’t even know you were crying because they could see how much you love me.” you reach up and place your hand on John’s cheek, “It was an amazing speech, baby.”

“Alright, alright,” Jimmy says into the mic, then he turns to you and John still clinging to each other, “Time for the Wicks first dance.”

You look up at John and smile, “That’s us. The Wicks.”

John smiles at you as the music starts to play, and he nods his head when he realizes you picked the song that he liked the most for your first dance. He wraps your arms around his neck, then he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

Swaying back and forth with John, you lean back and look at him, “So weird.”

“You’re my wife.” John smiles, then he raises his eyebrow, “If you still want out of this, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Shut up.” you laugh, leaning up to kiss him, “We’re married. Can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re mine forever now.”

John nods his head, then he smiles, “I can’t believe that I get to wake up next to you every morning, go to bed with you every night, get to…you know.”

Laughing loudly, you shake your head and tighten your arms around John, “Yeah, I totally can’t wait to do that tonight! Been missin’ you all day. I mean, we’re together, but you know.”

“Trust me, I know!” John chuckles, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “You look like an absolute dream, baby. I can’t thank you enough for choosing me.”

Holding John’s gaze, you reach up and place your hand on his cheek as you smile softly, “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I don’t mind all the things in your past. They don’t matter to me, they never have. The only thing that matters to me is that you’re happy.”

“And I am,” John takes your hand and spins you around, then he pulls you back into his arms as you laugh, “Everyone is staring at us.”

“They’re watching.” you correct him, and John leans down to kiss you with a little more warmth. You cup John’s face in your hands as you kiss him, and everyone cheers when John holds tight to you and dips you, keeping his lips pressed to yours. You tilt your head back and laugh as John hugs you, then you pepper his face with kisses.

“Can you believe I get to spend the rest of my life loving on you?” John shakes his head and smiles, “How on earth did I get so lucky?”

You lean up to kiss John again, then you look over your shoulder as a few more people start to dance. Jimmy and Tess are holding each other and Finn in their arms, and you smile when you see Shiloh pulling Gia to her feet as the song changes to a much more upbeat tempo.

“I promise I’m going to give you the best life.” John whispers in your ear as you both continue to sway back and forth, and you melt against his chest, “Anything you want, I’ll happily provide.”

You smile as you tilt your head back and look at him, “Marrying you today, becoming your wife, I already have everything I want.”

The dance floor is full of people dancing, and Tess grabs your arm to pull you away from John as she dances, but you look over at John as Benji, Shiloh and a few of your younger cousins surround him. John kneels down a little to talk to the kids, and Benji shows John a dance move he wants him to try. John laughs as he shakes his head, then he gives it his best try as all of kids start to laugh.

“So cute.” you whisper to yourself, then you laugh as Harper runs over to John. You watch as John holds her in his arms, and he makes his way over to you. “Hi, sweetheart!”

Harper giggles as she buries her face in the crook of John’s neck, and he tickles her tummy and bounces on his knees a little. John takes Harper’s small hand in his and dances as you laugh, and you wipe away the tear on your cheek as you watch them.

John reaches out and rubs his thumb against your cheek, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, I’m just…so happy.” you laugh as you wrap your arms around John’s waist and smile at Harper. You look up at John and tear up, holding his gaze, “If this is a glimpse into my future, I can’t wait.”

@callmeglenncoco @ficsnroses @hylianhbu @keanureevesisbae @cheekybluefox @re-florescer-a @tea-time-fun-posts @star017 @fangirl-fantasize @wheretheriversrunintothesea @jessicajones616 @sweetgoodangel @aragornswife

*let me know if i tagged you and you didn’t want to be tagged, or if you want to be added to my taglist! tumblr tagging was kinda weird so i hope it worked!

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #pls be kind #also i hope u all like this and have a good day ily yall #i can't believe theyre married now

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Amelia & Jac

Amelia: [okay so I'll put here what we said, for Jac's 18th Savannah sent her some flowers and Amelia binned them, obviously a big fight ensued and they haven't interacted from then in September to now which is nearly Christmas until Amelia sends her a christmas gift of the gay book with a portrait of Jac inside that'll just fall out when she picks it up and a chanel lipstick of some cute shade or other] Jac: [my vibe was if it was left on the step, leaving the book out there and taking the lipstick to send a message 'cos assumedly we'll walk past at some point as we live central] Amelia: [love that] Jac: If you were gonna take it upon yourself to decide I didn't want Savannah's gift, you should have also realised the same rule would apply to yourself Amelia: maybe Jac: No, you should have Jac: you wasted your money and time Amelia: I've got nothing else to do with either, so it hardly matters Jac: I'm not your distraction Jac: leave me alone Amelia: no, you're way more than that Amelia: but okay Jac: I don't have the energy for this Amelia: I didn't do this to force a conversation with you Jac: right Amelia: you're right, I shouldn't have got you anything Jac: you really shouldn't Jac: I don't want anything from you Amelia: alright, message received Jac: for fuck's sake Amelia: What do you want me to say? Amelia: it's been months, I miss you, I hate this Jac: You're about a lifetime too late for any of this Jac: things change Amelia: just go then Jac: Don't tell me what to do Jac: you haven't even apologized Amelia: because you're the only one who can tell me what I should or shouldn't do, okay then Jac: I declined your gift because I don't fucking want it Jac: that's my decision Jac: you can't force it on me Amelia: like it was my decision to get you one, even if you don't fucking want it Amelia: like it's my decision not to apologise when I'm not sorry Jac: it wasn't your decision to make Amelia: I know that Jac: She reached out to me Jac: and you ruined it Amelia: she didn't reach out, it was a cop out Jac: she remembered Jac: she didn't have to do anything Amelia: she didn't do anything Amelia: not even sign her name Amelia: fuck's sake, and you're mad at ME for my lack of apology Jac: Yes she did, she sent my favourite flowers Jac: and yes I'm fucking mad at you, you don't even know what you started Amelia: at least hold her to the same standard Jac: No, because you aren't the same Jac: and this gift meant something to me, the gesture did Jac: and you couldn't stand that so you took it away Amelia: the false hope meant something to you Amelia: of course I can't stand that Jac: there's nothing false about it Jac: she was never here for my birthday before, not as my friend, she had no reason to remember, I'm blocked on anything that would tell her Amelia: because it's so hard to get around being blocked Jac: so, that would just prove she cared enough to look Jac: either way, that meant something Amelia: it doesn't mean she's coming back Amelia: or dumping her boyfriend Jac: it still means more to me than anything you could ever give or do Jac: so you deal with that Amelia: I can't Jac: You'll find my sympathy running a bit low Amelia: that's how I always find it Jac: I don't have the space in my head or my life to care about you Jac: alright, and I've never said different Amelia: yeah you have Jac: when? Jac: a million years ago when we were kids Jac: life's moved on from then Amelia: this year, things have happened that mean something, you've made space for me and cared about me Amelia: I don't need words, you lie whenever you speak anyway Amelia: and yeah, that's how long it's been, that's she's been gone and I've been here for you Amelia: you can't deal with that any better than you're telling me I have to Jac: I've only cared about myself Jac: that's facts Jac: you've been of some use and that's about as deep as it gets Jac: ask anyone, Amelia Amelia: No Jac: Yes Amelia: you love to make me look and feel crazy but I'm actually not Jac: because normal people throw other people's presents away Amelia: you know why I did Jac: and normal people let themselves be treated like this Jac: yeah, you're so right Amelia: there's a massive gap between normal and the levels of delusional you're trying to make me out to be right now Jac: I'm not trying to make you out to be anything Jac: I'm trying to get you to leave me alone, at best Amelia: and I've said I will Jac: then go Amelia: [does] Amelia: [gonna take this moment to tell you what the book is, We Are Okay by Nina LaCour it's obvs gay and YA again but we've lost the optimism of the previous Christmas because this one is about grief and loss and loneliness, basically this girl leaves her life behind without saying a word (again to go to college lol) after her grandad dies but then her friend who she's in love with and who I think is straight comes to visit her there so she gotta start dealing with all her shit, very apt Amelia well done. I think it does have a happy ending for said main character based on the title but not a fluffy one and she isn't getting with that friend I'm p sure] Amelia: [In clearer terms, this is a book about Marin, a girl who has lost her grandfather, and in doing so, pushed away her former best friend, Mabel. So when Mabel comes to town, Marin does not know what to do with the memories. Marin at once does not want Mabel here, regrets her being here, but also desperately wants Mabel to love her. She has walls up and she wants them down, but she is too terrified for them to ever come down. Marin has lost everything, including Mabel, her best friend and her maybe-something-more. But it’s not a romance between Marin and Mabel. That is what is perhaps the saddest part. I once saw Nina LaCour talk live about this book, and she said something that perfectly sums up what is so arresting about this book: being queer and in love with your best friend is different than being straight and in love with your best friend. One is an experience in first love, and one is also that, but with an added experience of fear – not of rejection but of disgust. We do not want to hurt our best friends by loving them. We have learned to be ashamed of love and we carry that with us, through thick and through thin. BYE] Jac: [well, v on the nose, soz we won't be reading that hun and we didn't read the last one, so rude] Amelia: [maybe years from now bitch you will and you'll see what we were trying to give you] Jac: [perhaps but clearly not this one as it has essentially washed away lmao] Amelia: [something v poetic about a book about grief and loss and loneliness getting left on the step to disintegrate, when this is a film or netflix show I'll be v smug] Jac: [truly, the drama of it all] Jac: [setting it on fire is so last year, anyway, my thought is Amelia sees Jac and Jesse out somewhere but not out out like somewhere boring and every day which is confusing as it was to the fam 'cos she knows she's not talking or hanging out with them so she's like hmm] Amelia: [good idea but I don't know how I'm gonna be like oi what are you doing when it's none of your business hen LOL] Jac: [Jesse could talk to her 'cos we've established doesn't take a hint and it's like the most awkward] Amelia: [yeah because they are gonna be lowkey friends off and on even though she said they weren't after the vday thing last year so and maybe she asks about his gig he's meant to be doing or whatever cos he would've had to announce he ain't doing it on socials and everything like] Jac: [Jac just casually snapping at her like mind yo business Amelia] Amelia: [I'll pick the convo up after that fun little interaction then] Jac: [when you shoulda said nothing but it came out henny] Amelia: Don't talk to me like that Jac: Don't talk to my brother how's that Amelia: redundant Amelia: because I'll talk to him whenever I like as long as he's not the one upset about it Jac: Yeah, you've established you're a liar before now Amelia: No, we've established I have nothing to gain by keeping any promises to you Jac: and I give a fuck about what you wanna take from me Jac: you need to disappear, I don't want you in my life now, not even peripherally Amelia: I don't wanna take anything from you and I'm not Amelia: but disappearing isn't an option for a bit Jac: Contradict yourself immediately, it's really not a waste of my time Amelia: You're wasting your own time by continuing to have a go at me Amelia: when school's over we'll both be leaving, until then we're both stuck Jac: It wouldn't be a waste of time if you actually listened Amelia: likewise Jac: to what? Amelia: me obviously Jac: you have nothing I've ever wanted to hear Jac: and you're continuing to talk more bullshit now Jac: literally, mind your own business, it should not be hard Amelia: neither should getting your head around the concept that me talking to Jess isn't about you Jac: he isn't your friend Jac: he's my brother, I trump any kind of connection you had or wanna have for whatever sad reason Jac: so yeah, fuck off Amelia: if you want to make him choose, give him your bullshit ultimatum, I won't be Jac: No, you leave us alone Jac: it's like having a fucking stalker Jac: I am sick of the sight of you Amelia: I have left you alone like you asked Amelia: he's asked me to do no such thing Jac: You're pathetic Jac: get some friends of your own and you wouldn't have to cling on to someone being civil towards you Amelia: I've heard it all before Jac: then take the hint Jac: I'm so fed up of you and your moping Amelia: then take the 'advice' you're trying to give me and fuck off Jac: you see me coming, you should turn the other way Jac: I did not need to see you today, fuck's sake Amelia: yeah, I'll turn my desk around too, get back into detention, it has been a while Amelia: I wasn't looking for you, I don't want to see you either Jac: then it's in your best interest to run when you see Jesse coming then Jac: so glad you reached the logical conclusion, try to do it at the time next time, tah Amelia: bye then Jac: you're unbelievable Jac: you don't even feel remotely bad for what you've done Amelia: of course I fucking do Jac: bullshit Amelia: No it's not Amelia: but I'm not going to sit here and type out how and why I feel like shit when it means nothing Jac: you aren't sorry, you said, and you've not made any kind of attempt to actually make amends, not that you can now, it's too late Jac: it's all about how you feel and that you miss me and whatever else Jac: you don't care what I've been through Amelia: I'm not sorry for 🗑💐 but I'm sorry for hurting you Amelia: and that this means I'm not there now for whatever is happening Amelia: like you said, it's too late now Amelia: and like you also said, even if I was there, it's not good enough anyway so Jac: because this isn't some soppy book you read Jac: you aren't gonna save me and it'll all be happily ever afters Jac: this is real life and it's so much bigger than all this Jac: shit that you care about Amelia: yeah, it's my real life too Jac: none of this is real Jac: you're putting off getting one by kidding yourself that this will ever happen Amelia: it is to me Jac: just wait Jac: you'll find out soon enough Jac: this is nothing, all of it Amelia: maybe to you Jac: no fucking maybe Jac: you're a child, your problems are childish Jac: that's factual and I can't pretend to entertain it now Amelia: then don't Amelia: my problems aren't the same as yours because I'm not you any more than I could be Savannah fucking Moore, but guess what, it's not a competition Jac: they're non-existent Amelia: No, they exist, same as I do Amelia: but you don't have to bother about them or me Jac: Get over yourself, Amelia Jac: people have real shit going on, real stuff to deal with Jac: and you want anyone to care about your self-inflicted, whiney, entitled bullshit Jac: for what? 'cos you're an AMAZING friend, yeah, you don't use everything to your advantage or make it all about you Amelia: not really, I want you get away from me like you keep saying you want Jac: I didn't send you a present, loser Amelia: I didn't start a conversation about it Amelia: or keep this one going Jac: because you should feel fucking bad about what you did and you don't Jac: not even an eighth of what I do Amelia: I do feel bad, what do you want me to do to prove it, kill myself? For fuck's sake Jac: yeah good idea Amelia: nothing is good enough for you Amelia: you'd even twist that into something it isn't Jac: fucking try it Jac: I don't want you around Amelia: okay Jac: my life is ruined Jac: you don't get to be okay, you don't get to care about your pathetic crush Amelia: you don't get to tell me what to do or how to feel because your life is ruined Jac: Yes I do Amelia: No you don't Jac: really 'cos you've been pretty easy to manipulate this far Jac: don't act as if you've had say in anything Jac: that's about the only use you have had Amelia: well it's over, all of it Jac: call it like it hasn't been for months on my say so Jac: what is the point of you being alive, actually Amelia: I don't know Amelia: my parents, I guess Jac: good luck with getting that to last then Amelia: 🤞🍀🌠 Jac: give you 'til your late 20s before that stops being enough Amelia: it already isn't Jac: like I said, find some real trauma like the rest of us Jac: gives you something to cling to Amelia: or more to collapse under the weight of Jac: you don't even want to survive Amelia: and what? Jac: and that's the fundamental reason Savannah is better than you Jac: and I am too Jac: all I have is the shit behind me to drive me forwards Jac: and your ideal is to wallow in it Amelia: you've got a million reasons why, I don't care how they're numbered, to be honest Jac: you deserve the nothing you're left with and the nothingness that's coming Amelia: that's worked out perfectly then Jac: I swear to God you're lucky he was there Jac: any other day Amelia: yeah Amelia: you know what lessons to find me in Jac: I'm taking time off Jac: so you can have them Amelia: I really am lucky Amelia: maybe it'll make me care about 20 years in the future, like you do, or 5 or 1 Amelia: drive me forwards too Jac: unlikely Amelia: right now it is Amelia: I'm just trying to get through this conversation Jac: Jesus Amelia: my 🤔💭 exactly Jac: you clueless bitch Amelia: what am I supposed to be clued into? Amelia: we haven't spoken for ages Jac: and that's hardly a mystery Amelia: slag me off as much as you like, I don't know what's going on Jac: didn't inherit that off your mum then Amelia: clearly not Jac: yeah well when she finds out somehow you can hear all about it Amelia: finds out what? Jac: now you're gonna ask how I am Amelia: if you were in the hospital again or something that's more important than any of this bullshit Amelia: please just tell me Jac: no, because you did a grand gesture I didn't ask for so now I'm really all good Amelia: a Christmas present isn't a grand gesture Amelia: or what matters Jac: yeah, no shit it isn't Amelia: can you just Jac: what, tell you what's wrong with me? Jac: will that make you feel better Amelia: No Jac: yeah, that makes it almost seem worth it Amelia: forget it Amelia: I'll find out when everyone else does or I won't Jac: yeah Jac: your fake concern for 2 seconds was really comforting Amelia: nothing about this is fake for me Amelia: I don't know how many more times or ways I can make that fucking obvious Jac: you're all talk Jac: I expect nothing more or less from you at this point Amelia: because talking is all I can do Amelia: you won't take a 🎁 I'm not risking an actual gesture Jac: yeah, I heard Jac: nothing in it for you Amelia: okay, tell me I'm wrong Amelia: tell me there is Jac: no Amelia: say something Amelia: give me literally anything Jac: how many times can you be told it's not about you before you get it Jac: it's not about caring because I throw you false hope Jac: we were friends, once Amelia: which is exactly why I want you to tell me what it's really about Amelia: I care about you, I fucking love you Amelia: and something bad has happened Jac: depends on your point of view Amelia: put all of this bullshit between us aside and talk to me Amelia: you said it, we were friends Jac: I don't know if I actually want to hurt you this bad Jac: call me stupid Amelia: it's not about me, remember? Jac: still Jac: it's Amelia: you aren't going to talk to anyone else Jac: Jesse knows Jac: and my parents Amelia: that doesn't mean they know how you feel, just what's happened Jac: you won't be able to know either Jac: it isn't gay Amelia: this can still be one of those times where you say things to me that you don't to anyone else, if you want Amelia: if it'll help you Jac: Nothing will help me Jac: but I don't care Jac: I've got a baby Amelia: what? Jac: a dead one now Amelia: oh Jac: yep Amelia: when? Jac: it's why Jesse cancelled his gig Amelia: of course Amelia: that makes sense Jac: so now you know Amelia: yeah Jac: so yeah, there's nothing to be said or done and that's seriously it Amelia: okay, well I'm here if that ever changes Amelia: my mum's never gotten over it but I know talking helped her Jac: talking isn't going to assuage the guilt of creating and destroying life Jac: maybe I'll go pray but I doubt that does either Amelia: I don't know Amelia: there must be a reason therapy is so popular, you're the wannabe psychologist Jac: hope Jac: I'm not interested Amelia: alright, no talking Amelia: do you want to go out? Jac: and bleed over the four pairs of tights I'd have to wear to stop it running straight down my legs? Amelia: a no would be a perfectly acceptable answer Jac: yeah, it's perfectly acceptable to bother a therapist about it so you never mention it to anyone else Amelia: you're not going to mention it anyway, you've said as much Jac: that has nothing to do with your sensibilities Jac: if I wanted to, I could go into horrific detail Amelia: yeah, you could Amelia: you could also bleed all over my car if you wanted to Jac: Yeah right Jac: your entire street is curtain twitchers Amelia: we won't be hanging out on my street Jac: there's nowhere I could go that'll make me forget either Amelia: you've been stuck inside for days with your family, it's hardly a grand gesture to suggest taking you literally anywhere else Amelia: but okay Jac: Jess won't let me go anyway Jac: last time I said I'd hang out with you and he believed it I fucked your girlfriend so Amelia: you kissed her Jac: oh yeah Jac: same difference Amelia: no Amelia: there's quite a big difference Jac: maybe I told him I did then Jac: I don't remember Amelia: probably Jac: the outcome was the same is the point Amelia: the point is, Jess won't let you go Amelia: I got that Jac: I had to have someone come with Amelia: yeah Jac: not about to ask the poor sod who did it Amelia: have you told him though? Jac: yeah Jac: fucking embarrassing Amelia: I assume you're less likely to accidentally run into him than you are me Jac: I think I got points for dealing with it and being cool anyway Jac: go me Amelia: great Jac: it don't matter Jac: only would have if he'd kicked up a fuss Jac: but he didn't seem the sort and that's one less thing for me to feel guilty about so fuck it Amelia: does Darla know? Jac: I told her false alarm Jac: had to ask her about him so Amelia: then why do you think everyone's going to find out? Jac: people somehow always do Jac: I don't care anymore, not now Amelia: if my mum hasn't heard, it's unlikely Amelia: she knew about your alcohol poisoning immediately Jac: beneath her to have connections with an abortion clinic Amelia: she's not god squad Jac: close enough Amelia: my aunt had one after having Olivia, there was something wrong with the baby apparently Amelia: my mum wasn't protesting outside Jac: that's different then Jac: you have a reason, people can repeat that to themselves until they forget about it Amelia: you had a reason too Amelia: everyone does Jac: no, I had an excuse Amelia: you had a reason Jac: no, I didn't Amelia: yeah, you did Amelia: and if anyone else did it for the same reason you wouldn't call it an excuse Jac: Yes I would Amelia: you hate yourself, before this, after this and because of this Amelia: stop Jac: I didn't need to get pregnant, I did and then I killed it Jac: anyone who did that, I'd think exactly the same Amelia: you didn't mean to Amelia: and if you're going to punish yourself this hard for every mistake you ever make then you're going to last even less time than you think I will Jac: You don't act like that not not mean to Jac: all I need to do is live this year then I'll be doing what I actually want Amelia: and that's enough of a reason, don't you get that Jac: enough of a reason for what Amelia: you can't just have a baby you don't want Amelia: it's not like fucking lads you don't care about Jac: no one made me do any of it Jac: so it's not a reason Jac: it's stepping away from any responsibility Amelia: you made you Amelia: and you'd be a shit mum Jac: no, that's bullshit Jac: you tell yourself what you like about it but I know what I did Amelia: tell me you enjoyed it, any of the times Jac: it's sex Jac: that's one of but not the only point Amelia: say it then Amelia: what your point is Jac: Why am I repeating myself? Jac: I know what I did Jac: you aren't going to convince me otherwise Amelia: Why are you doing it? Jac: Well I can't anymore, actually Jac: 2 weeks minimum Amelia: but why have you ever? Jac: because I want to Amelia: you want Savannah Amelia: it hasn't helped you forget that, it won't Jac: neither do you but you didn't tell me not to do that Jac: I can still want to fuck guys Jac: end of Amelia: fine, I'll say it now Jac: yeah Amelia: I can't do this any more Jac: we aren't Amelia: we've said that before, it has to be different this time Jac: whatever Jac: you expect me to make promises to you? Jac: I don't fucking care, Amelia Jac: you deal with it, it's not my problem Amelia: okay Jac: Christ sake Amelia: What? Jac: Never mind, right, off you go Amelia: I'm not going Jac: 🙄 Amelia: you don't care, I heard you before Jac: you want it to be different this time Jac: do something about it Amelia: I'm not having sex with you, that's what I'm doing differently Jac: what's the point in that Jac: doing all the other shit, there's barely any difference Amelia: because I shouldn't have ever but I can't take any of it back Jac: we don't need to be friends either Amelia: we're not Jac: then leave Jac: why half-arse it, that's my point Amelia: I can't leave Jac: just the situation Jac: you don't actually need to kill yourself Amelia: no, I can't leave you Jac: don't be daft Amelia: I'm not repeating myself either Jac: please yourself Amelia: fuck you Jac: you'll be a long time waiting for a thank you Jac: I didn't ask for this Amelia: neither did I Jac: you have a choice Amelia: yeah, and I've made it Jac: and what? Jac: what would you like me to say? Amelia: don't say anything Amelia: I'd honestly love that Jac: yeah, I bet Amelia: the back and forth between utter lies and bullshit and brutal fucking honesty is worse than just the gaslighting Jac: then go away Jac: you're doing this to you Jac: I don't want you here Amelia: you're doing it to me Jac: no, I'm not Amelia: you are Jac: I'm literally telling you to go Amelia: you're always telling me to go Amelia: it's been over a year Jac: your lack of resolve is not my fault Amelia: if you really don't want me here, do something about it Jac: No, because I'm not crying about it Jac: if you feel so gaslit, fuck off Jac: don't reply, don't engage Jac: I don't owe you anything Amelia: you're literally complaining about it Jac: because you're crying wolf Jac: I can and will do what I want, that's how it's always been Amelia: It's no different for me, I've always done what I want too Jac: no, you're being horribly manipulated and used Jac: poor little Amelia Amelia: you fucking said it as a brag earlier Amelia: how easy it is Jac: so why are you repeating it back to me, like I don't know? Jac: you're waiting for me to deny it, or apologize and say it's not true and I care SO much Jac: get real Amelia: I'm waiting for you to stop Amelia: actually do anything you say you're going to Jac: why? Jac: why are you expecting me to act like I'm fine when I'm not Jac: keep making the same wrong call and act surprised when I do what feels right Jac: for fuck's sake, Amelia Amelia: I don't know Amelia: maybe because I'm not fine either but I don't treat you like this Jac: maybe 'cos you've got no willpower Jac: maybe 'cos struggling is a competition and I'm winning Amelia: maybe Jac: 🤔💭 on that Amelia: obviously Jac: fun never stops Jac: enjoy, like Amelia: 🎢 🎠🎪 Jac: 'tis the season Amelia: Merry Christmas 🎄🎅⛄ Jac: great Amelia: yeah Jac: make you feel better that? Amelia: 1. you literally don't care 2. neither do I Jac: I'm literally still bleeding from having my baby chemically expelled and you don't get any joy out of wishing me a Merry Christmas? Jac: what is the fucking point, if you're gonna be a cunt, commit to it Amelia: there's no point to any of this, we both get that Jac: nah, it actually makes me feel better to make you feel worse Jac: that's the point Jac: I have loads of them Jac: it's you who has zero idea what the fuck she's doing Jac: as per Amelia: oh well in that case, carry on Jac: if you hadn't worked that out by now, there is no hope for you Amelia: there's no hope for me anyway, as you've said repeatedly Jac: you seem pretty resigned to this whole victim thing you've got going on Jac: it's a fair observation Amelia: I'm sure it is Jac: yep, that's right, curl up into a ball 'til it's over Jac: fuck this Amelia: until what's over? Jac: the attack, whatever you wanna call it Amelia: I don't want to call it anything, I don't want to do this Amelia: you're the one who's getting something out of it, unless that's another lie Jac: then don't Jac: why the fuck are you still here? Amelia: because I can't fucking leave when you're in the middle of an abortion Amelia: for fuck's sake Jac: the good friend points are not being counted any more Amelia: I don't care Amelia: if this is all I can do, over nothing, then so be it Jac: you're gonna let yourself be a punching bag Jac: seriously Amelia: why not? Amelia: it's not like it's the first time, or that I haven't for things that matter less Amelia: and it's too late to change any of that Jac: because I want you to stop Jac: to fight back Jac: to not do this shit anymore Amelia: I'm not fighting you right now, even if I had the strength to ever Jac: it's like Jac: you don't understand how dangerous it is Jac: what if this was someone else Jac: do you wanna end up like that, getting knocked about and taken advantage of Amelia: I don't give a fuck about the future, remember? Jac: well stop it Amelia: no Jac: stop Amelia: no Jac: fine Jac: I'll go Amelia: okay, go

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rubyastari · 4 years

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“THE DISTANCING AND BLOCKING POLICY”

Bored to tears already? Yeah, me too. I’m also fed up with these overly-mentioned terms:

· Social (and physical) distancing.

· The New Normal.

· Self-quarantine.

However, the term ‘distancing’ has given me some perspectives lately:

For starters, last Eid Holiday. You see, in Indonesia, there’s this tradition where families hold gatherings and invite people over for an all-day feast. We visit friends and neighbours.

That’s actually fun, until we get to…small talks. You know, relatives or neighbours asking you some of these questions or comments, year after year after FREAKING year:

· “So who’s your boyfriend/girlfriend now?”

· “What? You’re still single at this age?”

· “When will you get married?”

· “When are you getting married?”

· “What? No kids yet? How long have you been married anyway?”

· “Only one kid? Your little one needs another sibling – at least one or two.” (What do they really know, seriously? They don’t even ask the toddler.)

· “Wow. You have lots of kids. I’m sure you must be overwhelmed.” (Oh, thank you for the not-so-needed comments.)

· “All girls? Don’t you want to try to get a son this time?” (As if they can do that the same way they order take-outs from their favourite deli.)

I know, I know. Such rude and intrusive questions/comments, eh? Unfortunately, that’s just how our culture works here. (Well, most of the time.) The sad thing is, many elders still believe that they’re entitled to throw you those lines in public without caring – whether you’d feel comfortable or not. Consider age their legal right. (Yes, it’s my sarcasm.)

In short, you get your feelings invalidated…like, a lot. You must have the thickest of skin or you’ll get into a useless fight.

This year? Thank God. In a way, you might have missed the usual traditions, but at least you didn’t have to put up with such drama. If you had used Zoom for free for a chat with your distant family and relatives last Eid holiday, you had to be effective with the 40 minutes’ session before getting disconnected.

Don’t get me wrong. I try not to hold any grudges here. (Believe me, I seriously do.) I just feel deeply reluctant myself when somebody treats family gatherings as life appraisals between members, comparing who’s already got what and who’s better at this and that…and many more.

The Benefits of Distance

Indonesians are generally sociable. Most of us are still tied to our families. We tend to make friends wherever we go. Plenty of us can even turn strangers into friends before turning them again into families too – or at least soul siblings by choice.

In fact, plenty of us still talk to our old school friends as we age. Sometimes it’s about real closeness, other times it’s more about maintaining relations / friendships, just for the sake of it. I know my sister still keeps in touch with friends she’s known since grade school. There’s nothing bad about it at all. In a way, she’s more like Ma.

This is why many Indonesians are still struggling with the idea of #socialdistancing. (Well, unless you’re introverts.) Most of them are not used to being alone and isolated for so long. Unfilled silence gets them anxious.

No wonder some of them have dared break the rules regarding travelling, meeting people, and being in the crowd in public spaces. Aside from the fact that many still have to go to work (or lose their jobs if not), they can’t stand isolation.

However, distance also has its own benefits, though.

For starters, you get to know yourself better – if distance happens to get you really alone. You learn to recognize yourself more, your strengths and flaws. You learn to rely on yourself even more than before, including how to make yourself feel happy.

If you know how to be happy with just yourself, then you won’t feel too sad when no one is around. You reduce your expectations on people, like on how you think they should make you feel.

Once you can do that, you won’t feel too disappointed if they let you down. You’ll try not to take everything way too personally.

Distancing versus Blocking

Meanwhile, blocking is everyone’s last resort when distancing no longer works. Honestly, I still hate doing this. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to get on with everybody.

Of course, as I get older, I’ve realized that it’s impossible. You can’t make everybody like you or feel happy with the way you are, no matter how hard you try. The same thing goes vice versa.

So I started adjusting more to reality and becoming more flexible. I’ve become more pragmatic too, although with the risk of being misunderstood as ‘cold and unfeeling’. I admit that I’m still emotional at times. Still, I don’t want that to ruin my whole day.

There are some people that I’ve already blocked online and offline too. I used to think it was a sign of cowardice, one’s inability to deal with differences.

Now I see that as a way to be much kinder to yourself. After all, your mental health matters too.

You don’t have to put up with everything you can’t really bear. You have the right to choose. If possible, sometimes it’s okay to just step back, distance yourself for a while, assess the situation from afar, or even place some serious boundaries between you and whatever makes you feel uncomfortable or unhappy.

For how long? It depends on how long you need it to be.

#writer@work #opinion #socialdistancing

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themockingcrows · 4 years

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Tapping With Blue Eyes Ch.5: Returning

John/Dave

This chapter is NOT sfw! Also available on my ao3!

A return to normality, an attempt to return to normal routines, but even the best laid plans get hiccups now and then.

The day of reckoning had arrived, and John was not prepared. He was physically prepared as he could be, loading the car up with odds and ends his father wanted them to bring back, along with things like fresh bread and several tupperware worth of casserole and leftovers, but something still felt off. There was no way to prepare enough. Not when it was Jake out there with his tap just lurking around, and not with their experiences in the house preparing him only so far. They’d done well, the cloaking worked, but how well could he do it on a timer? How much use would it be against a werewolf’s sense of smell?

John’s father saw them off with hugs and well wishes, and insistence that they call before walking into the apartment. That they check every inch of the place before starting to cleanse it, make sure there was nobody lying in wait. Jake didn’t have that much patience, both John and his father knew it, but on the off chance he did.. It was important. Every i must be dotted and every t crossed if they wanted the best chances to keep Dave safe, let alone himself.

They parted on good terms with hugs all around, Dave having forgiven James for the intense moments of hunting him down to make sure they were prepared. It was rough for a day or so… but the good intentions were there shining through, and the stunt had proven his point. They’d worked together much more intensely to work on cloaking afterwards, till it was up to James’ standards at the end. Now though, the air hung heavy and quiet in the car, even with the radio trying to play the latest hits as jauntily as it could.

Some things just couldn’t ease up, and potentially being hurt or bitten by creatures of the night was definitely up there as the cause of the somber mood.

John fiddled the radio to turn it off when he couldn’t handle the up-beat tempos anymore, hands flexing on the steering wheel.

“So.”

“...So,” answered Dave, looking from the window over towards John. “We ready for this?”

“Ready as we can get on short notice since you wanted to come home so bad.”

“We needed to come back,” Dave insisted. “I ain’t gonna live my life according to some douchebags schedule, it’s my way or the highway.”

“Or the boyfriend highway,” snorted John.

“Which intersects with my way a lot, if you haven’t noticed,” teased Dave gently. “But no, seriously, like. I think we’ve got this. Just gotta clear the house and keep two goons away, go back to normal once they get bored and leave. Simple.”

“Jake’s the one who’ll probably get bored first,” John admitted. “He’s always up for the next adventure, doesn’t have patience unless he really wants something. It’s his pet that bothers me, I don’t know as much about werewolves.”

“Bet they shed like mad bastards,” Dave quipped, earning a snort and a grin from John. It wasn’t the best he could’ve gotten, but it lightened the mood a bit so he’d take it. “What do you wanna do once we’re home?”

“Clear and clean-”

“Aside from the business,” clarified Dave, leaning back in his seat and stretching his legs out again. “Once we’re safe’n everything’s chill again.”

“Hmmmm. Probably ravish you a bit, then maybe eat cereal in my underwear and watch youtube,” shrugged John.

“Ever the romantic. ..Wait, you mean just like normal hanky panky shit or are you thirsty?”

John flushed a bit and adjusted his grip on the wheel again.

“A bit thirsty. And it’d be nice to get a drink at the best tasting time, once we’re safe and sound again. It’d help with the wards and stuff too if needed, a well fed vampire’s stronger than one living off carrot sticks.”

“Your dad’s food was anything but carrot sticks, John, I think I gained two pounds while we were there.”

“You know what I mean,” John mumbled. “Normal food only does so good for some things!”

“I love the way you talk about me like a gourmet burger.”

“With the sweet potato curly fries on the side,” John grinned, delighted by the eye roll he got from Dave’s direction, the faint little smirk. This was more like it. This was normal. Finally. “Though I gotta say I dig the ketchup the most.”

“Gross.”

“Okay, I lied, I like the serving boy more.”

“Serving boy? Jesus, your dad’s mannerisms are rubbing off on you as much as the language is.”

“I meant waiter!” flushed John, changing lanes and speeding up before settling into a comfortable cruise once more. “Damn it, you know what I meant either way, give me a break for a word slip.”

“I think that was a century slip,” laughed Dave. “But fine, fine. Color me intrigued. How do you plan on ravishing me, hmm?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Once we make sure everything’s safe I’d make you ditch the shirt.”

“Make me, huh?”

“You heard me. No shirts allowed, they get in the way and hide the best parts.”

“God John, make it all about my tits why don’t you.”

Laughing, John shook his head and continued. “Pants’d be next, but I’d want to be the one to take those off. I like seeing your thighs flex when I strip you down. Might leave the underwear on for a bit, spend some time teasing you..”

“...Are we seriously having phone sex while sitting right next to each other, oh my fuckin’ God.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked!”

Dave bit his lip, but grinned a bit. Okay. Play ball, they were almost home and he needed to not feel as anxious about that fact as he was starting to. “Alright, then. What happens after you tease me, huh? Can’t keep my focus forever with nibbles and teasin’.”

“Probably pin you down and slip your underwear down while kissing you,” John hummed. “And after a while I’d probably work into a handjob.. Then work you open bit by bit,” he said as if going down a mental list.

It was working. Dave’s pants felt a bit tight as his mind wandered away from the stress and trauma of the last few days, into something more normal. Something more them. He shuffled in his seat, adjusted himself casually, and crossed his legs at the knee.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” was all John said, leaving the topic at that as they finally took the exit for home and trailed through the blocks towards the correct building.

Once John parked, Dave got out and stared at the building with trepidation, John busying himself grabbing some of the containers to hand over, while making sure they each had at least one hand free at all times. Dave gripped his keys in his pocket, slipping the door key between his fore and middle fingers, bracing the rest of them in his fist. A solid pop with these would hurt a human like hell, maybe it’d briefly incapacitate a werewolf or a vampire. He hoped.

The apartment had the musty smell of trapped air and some unwashed dishes gathering unpleasant substances in the sink. Laundry needed done, chores needed catching up on, but the airing out needed to happen. John made sure Dave locked the door before he dropped the tupperware on the counter and stalked off to the other rooms to investigate, throwing back shower curtains and dropping to his knees to check underneath the bed as if Jake would be hiding there like a boogeyman from days long gone.

“Bathroom’s clear,” he announced. “Bedroom too.”

“Living room and closet look clear,” said Dave. “Fridge too, though some of my food’s gone. Fuckers.” Farewell precious bit of junk food he had chilling in there, you would be missed.

“CLOSET,” John suddenly shouted, followed by a thump and the sound of fabric being wrestled around. Alarmed, Dave darted to his bedroom door and peered inside, key back in his fist and prepared to use it as a weapon… only to see John wrestling with a jacket in the closet, fabric wrapped around his head and shoulders as if he were trapped.

“...Uh. John? You good?” Dave asked, slowly feeling the alarm fade from his blood as his hands sank down to his sides once more.

“Er. Yeah,” he promised. “Yeah, just. I realized I hadn’t checked, and when I whipped it open this came out an-. ….Yeah, I’m cool,” John insisted, yanking the jacket off of his head with one smooth motion, hair sticking up in several directions at once with electricity.

Dave smirked a bit. “So. The house is clear, then?”

“Seems that way. I’m gonna work on the door and windows,” grumped John as he threw the jacket onto the mattress and scuttled back out to the main room, Dave on his heels to put away the leftovers into the fridge. John had a new goal now, and till the apartment felt safe, he wasn’t likely going to be able to be interrupted.

At least it was interesting to watch.

The warding process was similar to the way it had happened to him at James’ house, but with the distinct desperation of someone wanting to keep something precious hidden this time. The stakes were at their highest now.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m staying over tonight,” John said when he rubbed his forehead and stepped back from the front door, going to check windows next.

“I’d have been shocked if you were going anywhere else,” admitted Dave. “...I don’t mind. I’d prefer you were here anyway.”

“Scared?” asked John.

“No! I mean, shit, a bit? But nothin’ I can’t handle. Nothin’ we can’t handle,” he corrected. “Look. You want somethin’ to eat, once you’re done with that?”

“I do,” John confirmed. “Make sure you eat and hydrate enough.”

“Wh- Oh. Right. Yeah,” coughed Dave, remembering their conversation from the car. Surely it wouldn’t be that specifically the same, they’d probably just wind up having the same interaction as usual when John wanted a quick drink. All the same, Dave fished out some suitable looking leftovers and popped the container in the microwave with the lid half off, and pulled out an apple juice from the bottom of the fridge.

Sitting at the table felt strangely normal, but out of place. Someone else had been in his home recently. Other people, strangers, had touched his belongings. It felt like the sanctity of the place, mess that it was, was disturbed. Tainted.

“Hey, would it be safe to open the window for a bit?” asked Dave without getting up. “Air feels all dead in here.”

“No.”

“WE’RE OFF THE GROUND FLOOR!”

“So? No.”

“At least crack it, goddamn, I’m feelin’ like I’ll suffocate. It’ll be your fault, too. Here lies Dave Strider, he died because his stupid boyfriend wouldn’t okay an open window and now his ghost eternally haunts the goon becau-”

“Okay, okay, Christ, you win. I’ll crack the bedroom window,” muttered John, stopping what he was doing in the bathroom prematurely in favor of going to the bedroom to ward in there instead.

The change was almost immediate, some of the stale pressure of the room fleeing just in time for the microwave to ding on the lasagna. Dave got out a fork, looked it over, scrubbed it with his shirt and a shrug, and settled down again to eat. Was it just a normal meal, or was it prep for a vampire meal? He wondered if his diet had as much effect on the flavor as John had said before, if the strict adherence to good food instead of junk served that much purpose. Maybe John just preferred the flavor of home grown all organic Dave to a Dave in his natural habitat of burgers and fries. All Dave could imagine it would taste like was copper, but then again he was the human in this situation wasn’t he?

His tastes began and ended on the plate.

John came back into the main room by the time Dave finished his serving and sank back in the seat with his juice, watching the vampire pace for a moment before running a hand through his hair with a sigh as he took a seat as well and spread out on the tabletop like a limp doll.

“I think I’ve got everything now,” he said. “Should be safe..”

Dave sipped his juice and let John have a few moments of peace and quiet before reaching out to stroke the messy hair he loved so much, scritching deep to reach his scalp. John grunted and nuzzled his head closer to the hand without opening his eyes, seeking more comfort while he could get it.

“You did good,” Dave promised. “I bet the place is Fort Knox now.”

“Yeah, but for how long,” John sighed. “...What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“I need to double check the schedule but I think I work tomorrow,” Dave said. About time, too. He didn’t want to imagine what his check was going to look like after the sudden time off. Ouch. Leaner month than usual ahead, but he’d handle it fine.

John bristled briefly, but under the soothing scratches to his scalp soon calmed again. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to come all the way from his toes.

“I’ll have to do my best to ward you tomorrow. I don’t know how long it lasts though, I might need to swing by on your lunch break.”

“You can just come get me after work, I doubt they’d try anything in public in broad daylight,” Dave soothed. “We’ll walk back together.”

“I’ll drive, I don’t feel like being that exposed for that long.”

Dave frowned a bit, but nodded. Okay. If that made him feel better, that’s what they’d do. “How long are things gonna be like this for, though? This high security?”

“Till they get bored and leave,” John said.

“How will we know when that happens, though? Isn’t no news good news?”

“Dad’ll let me know when Jake’s been spotted elsewhere, he’s kind of notoriously loud when he reaches certain destinations,” John said, finally with a bit of a smile. “No news is good news otherwise, yeah. They’ll make a move sooner or later, patience doesn’t last..”

“You keep sayin’ that, and I believe you, but I still don’t understand what kinda way they’d turn up.”

“Directly,” John said. “A break in, or accosting you directly on the street, or trying to abduct you to prove a point.”

A chill crept into Dave’s stomach, but he shook his head. He’d be fine. The house was warded, and he’d be in a public place afterwards, too. Things would be fine. It wasn’t like he was some movie hero who twisted his ankle at the worst possible moment, or went poking the hornet’s nest for no good reason. Every precaution was being taken for their safety, and John was a big guy who could handle himself.

“...You still hungry?” Dave asked with a soft smile. John tipped his head to peek up from beneath his bangs and furrowed brows, nodding a few times with a solid pout.

“Ravenous.”

Finishing his juice, Dave set the container aside and stood up, rubbing at John’s shoulders till the vampire straightened and stood up, embracing him tightly. Dave could feel the creak of bones that wanted to pop in his back, too tight in the embrace yet just on the edge of feeling a bigger relief if those joints would just move. His chin was tipped up with John’s right hand before a kiss overtook him, simple and sweet and deep.

Dave assumed he’d be walking to the bedroom, but soon enough he was being lifted beneath the arms, then tossed briefly to be caught again around the waist and ass, letting him snake his legs around John’s waist for extra leverage. Dave leaned forward as they walked to kiss the side of John’s neck, playfully nipping and biting at him with his flat teeth along the same places he knew John liked to drink from. The soft groans he earned were music to his ears, more signs that things were normal again as they headed into the bedroom and sat down as a unit on the edge.

Instead of letting John keep the upper hand, Dave grunted and shoved his weight forwards to tip them back till he was straddling John’s waist, leaning over him and kissing his face and Adam’s apple, shoving his hands up beneath the hem of his shirt. John only took his shirt off after Dave agreed to take his off as well, arching and wiggling beneath his weight to manage the feat. Greedily, Dave ran his hands over the shape of John’s chest, along the edges of his waist and back up over his ribs before gently scratching. The slight bite against his skin had John hissing air between his teeth and pulling Dave closer.

“Ah ah, I’m the one on top,” Dave reminded him, swatting at his hands.

“Big talk for someone who’s about to be on the bottom,” grunted John, forcefully holding Dave closer before thwumping them to the side and changing position, pressing him down into the mattress as he laughed. They struggled for dominance for a moment, Dave straining to kick up and away, John laser focused on getting Dave’s pants off. He slipped out of them to freedom soon as the waist was loosened, leaving them both winners in their own way. Dave’s socks were still on and a small patch on the front of his boxers was damp, pressing against a halfie that was only getting more and more prominent as John moved again.

Like a serpent he lunged forwards, catching Dave around the knee of one leg so he could plant his face against the inside of his thigh. Dave could feel the sting of a sharp fang drag across his flesh, the small beads of blood being lapped up with a flat hot tongue. He arched his back and peered down over his own abdomen, watching John eye the thin trail of pale hair leading down below his underwear band with some serious intent in his eyes.

“Oh no you don’t, fangs away if you head that way,” Dave insisted, lowering his hands down in front of his groin.

John hissed playfully and bared his teeth. “What, want me to stay down on your thigh instead?” he asked, teething at the skin again.

“Nnnn, no, I want you up further. Like. Up near the neck? You’re treadin’ ticklish territory down there.”

“Hooked on the neck, hmm?” teased John, releasing his grip on Dave’s knee in favor of climbing him, sinking down to rest atop his lover and plant his face against his nape. Dave had just started to softly groan at the feeling of fangs against his skin when suddenly he heard and felt a wet prrap instead, John’s lips buzzing wetly in a heavy raspberry.

“...Dude.”

“What? I couldn’t help myself.”

“Mood ruined. Like. Entirely. Mood has left the buildin’ and chartered a plane for who the fuck knows where.”

“You know you love me,” chuckled John, rolling his hips to put pressure against Dave’s groin just right, making him hiss in a breath. He shifted a bit and reached for the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and dropping it to the side for an easier reach.

“I know I do, but goddamn man, seriously. A raspberry? I’m hot to trot and I get a raspberry.”

“Ah suck it up, it’ll be good in the end no matter what,” John laughed, reaching for Dave’s boxers and pulling them down and then up to yank them off, leaving Dave exposed in front of him with his knees parted.

“Big talk small dick,” muttered Dave, unable to keep up all the bravado with an erection twitching in the open air.

“Sorry, didn’t hear that. Were you talking about the amazing healing properties of my dick, or just how huge it is,” John said, shifting to his side to scoop an arm behind Dave’s upper back, the other going down to grasp his cock, giving it a few strokes to get him used to being touched again before jumping right into a steady rhythm.

“Amazing healing properties, are you fucking seriou-nn… God damn it, slow do-ahh, slow down, I can’t think straight when you do that!”

“Then don’t think for a while. I’m tired of thinking, I just want to focus on you,” mumbled John, kissing Dave’s shoulder as his hand continued to mercilessly move, making Dave squirm for him.

John’s earlier promises of touching him and driving him wild before working him open soon came to fruition, the lube employed and John changing position to let his free hand reach so he could piston his fingers and gently spread them now and then in time with the movements up front. Dave, predictably, was unable to shut his mouth and kept chattering the entire time, shivers and all. By the time he was reduced to half rapping something, John covered his mouth with his own to shut him up, adding a bit of tongue for further distraction.

The sex was hurried compared to the teasing, John near his limit of resisting biting as it was from how sweet Dave smelled to him and the earlier samples. John hauled Dave into a few different positions once he'd shoved his pants down to his knees, holding his arms for stability to hammer against him easier, before they wound up in a close embrace as usual for the sweeter ending. The second Dave climaxed, John bit and began to drink, his own hips stuttering helplessly till he joined him blissfully after. He was cautious to not take too much, no matter how strong the urge to glut himself was, and carefully lapped at the site afterwards till the clots formed.

Light headed and satisfied, Dave felt like he was floating, and clung tight to John’s shoulders with a soft hum as he slowly came down. It was strange. Every time John drank from him like this, it always seemed like it took so much longer to come down from orgasm, to lose the high. He was content to drift with his eyes half opened, watching colors and lights shift above him, feeling and hearing John’s racing heartbeat thudding above him. Though he tried to stay awake, fighting the effects of the blood loss, the nap crept up on Dave and dragged him under like so many times before. John rolled to the side once Dave was out and bundled him up, curling around him tightly to make sure he was okay, overly awake and hyper alert now that he’d had a feeding.

Everything had a distinct scent, a sound, a feeling. The wards he’d placed felt secure, but the gap in the bathroom bothered him.. He’d work on that as soon as he got up, but for now just listening closely would be good enough. If he needed to, he’d fight with his pants around his knees. Didn’t matter, so long as Dave was safe and they could have a sense of normality again.

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

“John, really, I’m good. I’ve gotta go in, they were chill enough with me takin’ a few days when I shouldn’t have normally been able to, and now I gotta pay back the shifts I swapped,” Dave insisted, already dressed for work but still looking gray in the face. He’d not gotten as much rest as anticipated before the call came bright and early the next morning instead of the planned for early afternoon to closing shift, foiling some of John’s planning. His own schedule was getting complicated again, but not too wild yet. Not too wild for this.

“Are you sure? We could take you to the doctor or- wait, no, that’d be a bad idea if they’re not one of the okay ones,” grimaced John. “Do you need anything? Do you have snacks? Did you take your supplement? Did you drink enough wa-”

“John. You’re doin’ the thing again,” Dave said as he leaned down to tie his shoes. “It’s gonna suck but it won’t kill me. Worst thing’s worse I faint or somethin’ and have to come home early.”

John clamped his mouth shut and shifted his weight from side to side, hands up and begging to touch, to comfort, to assist. Slowly though he lowered them and nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Right, then. I’ll give you a ride at least. What time will you get off?”

“They said two, but it’ll prolly be a bit later than that.”

“Two? Three?” he asked to confirm, trying to think. “I should be able to be there. I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to walk.”

“That’ll be good. ...Maybe bring a snack with you?” Dave asked with a bit of a smile, trying to give John something he could do without setting off the mother hen side he was trying to keep in containment.

They chattered on the way out the door and to the car, John overly alert still and quick to place a protective hand on the small of Dave’s back as they walked. The radio was left off for the drive, the quiet soothing, calming as Dave continued to psych himself up for his shift. The shop was high energy, but surely if he paced himself he’d rally. This wasn’t the first time John had drank from him too close to work, but admittedly this felt different from usual. There was more stress involved than just wondering how many hours till a snack and a nap, what with the visitors lurking around town somewhere.

A kiss before they parted, John leaning over the middle of the seats to follow Dave as he pulled back for just a second more of contact, and Dave was closing his door and walking in the back to the smell of coffee and simple pastries and snacks. His coworkers welcomed him back, asking how he felt, and based on his appearance weren’t too surprised when he said he still didn’t feel 100% back to normal.

At least there was some understanding from the people around him. Dave pulled his apron on and went behind the counter, immediately starting to help make drinks and heat food items for the growing line in front of them. The grind was predictable, soothing in a looping way, unchanging. Not a challenge mentally so much as a challenge keeping physically upright in the warmth of the line. Things slowed down a while before noon, and Dave was barely keeping it together, the only one behind the counter now as he pushed a broom around to tidy the area from the earlier rushing around.

“Hey. Can I get a large double-shot cappuccino to go?” asked a voice, startling Dave from his sweeping stupor. Not the rudest hello he’d ever gotten, he supposed. At least he said hey first instead of just ordering and standing there like a goon. A look over had him double taking though and reconsidering the goon comment. This dude wore the same kind of shades as his brother back home, pointed and large on his angular face. He looked sharp, all edges, clothes comfortable and baggy as a counterbalance to his features, his slicked back blonde hair that looked styled and crisp with hair gel. He looked familiar somehow, and not just because of the shades. Dave could make out bright eyes behind the dark triangles, and before he realized he was staring the guy smirked at him.

“Like what you see?”

Ugh. Great, it was gonna be like that, huh.

“Ah, sorry. You’re just the first person to ask for that today, I was kinda surprised. It’s been a whirlwind of special mixed drinks all mornin’,” Dave said as he went to work the machine, talking over the hiss. “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Yeah, let me get a few cake pops too,” said the blonde, leaning to the side to look at the glass case more clearly. “And.. I’ll take a brownie. Separate bags, please.”

“Got it,” Dave said as he fished the items out and slipped them into their small paper bag carriers, setting them down near the register before turning to finish prepping the cappuccino. Once the lid was on, he set the cup forward and keyed the totals into the register, looking up once it flashed green. “That’ll be $9.50. Cash or card?”

“Cash,” he said, sliding a ten over and accepting his change before picking up the drink and treats with a grin. “Thanks, Dave. See you later.”

Dave waved a bit out of habit before blinking, watching the guy leave out the front door, and slowly felt his blood change to ice. They didn’t wear name tags at his store, and he finally realized why the guy felt so familiar. The last time he’d seen this face, it had been on the road to John’s father’s house.

The werewolf was on the hunt, and far too close to Dave for his liking.

“...Just till two,” Dave said. Then he could go home and forget all about it. It’s not like he’d tried anything. Just a cheeky hello in a place he couldn’t be touched, realistically. Did he really need to tell John about it, make him panic…?

#johndave #homestuck #john egbert #dave strider #vampire au #my fic

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opheliamblackwood · 6 years

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Refraction: Chapter 2: A Danger to Your Health

I'm dreaming of mom again. It's the same dream over and over again. It's always the same dream. She’s always reaching for me and as I reach for her, I can see her screaming, but I never hear it. I watch her skin and muscle melt away from her body until all I can see is half of her face masked in horror and her bony fingers reaching for me. I see the mushroom cloud go off in the distance and can feel the heat of the shock wave on my face. At first, it feels like the Sun and then it starts to boil my skin until blisters form. That isn’t possible for me now that I know that I can’t be harmed by the radiation, only fueled by it.

I don’t know what kinds of things I might be able to do. I know that one of the effects of the Radiation on those of us positively affected by it, is an unnaturally long life. It will take us a lot longer to die. Our life span is practically doubled and we don’t really get old. We age, but we don’t show it. Some of us have more mental abilities and some of us have physical abilities. There is extra strength, heightened senses on grand scale. Things like hearing farther than normal humans can, being able to lift a phenomenal amount. We never get sick, we never age, but we can die.

This girl I grew up with, Charlotte, found out she was a Nukie and lost her damn mind. She had telekinesis and it was heavily connected to her mood. As you can imagine, she was freaking out knowing that she was one of us and this made her telekinesis go haywire. She started throwing everything around her, including people. A lot of people got hurt and she moved a heavy machine that got slammed into her little brother who died from the impact. The only way to get her to stop was to knock her out which the Feds did. They took her away and no one has ever seen her again. Her poor family was left to pick up the pieces, losing both of their children. Her dad committed suicide a week later and her mom got really sick and eventually passed away a few months after that. It’s what Nukies like us risk to lose. It’s important to stay very calm until you can get a reign on whatever ability it is that you have.

I think about all of this as I go to work. I’m hoping to find something that will help me figure myself out. They’ve been running all sorts of tests on various Nukies. They tend to leave those of us that are Nukies and Engineers alone, seeing as how they need us. So, they test on other Nukies instead. Mainly, we test out their powers in a safe, controlled environment, draw their blood and try to replicate whatever genetic mutations caused from the radiation exposure on Non-Nukies. Nothing has worked so far. We can’t create Nukies. Therefor, we can’t un-create Nukies. So, there’s a strong chance I’ll be like this forever.

There’s a girl I work with, Bria. I knew her back in college. We had a lot of the same classes together and we’ve become good friends over the past few years. Especially since the War. We got assigned to the same team, so we see each other everyday. Bria isn’t afraid of me. Rather, she finds me interesting and loves to annoy the shit out of me every single day by asking me if I’ve figured out what my abilities are yet. I walked in today, clomping into the lab in my Doc Martens and Bria, as usual, excitedly jumps up from her stool to dash over to me and yet again, annoy the shit out of me.

“Anything?!” she asks in an excited whisper as if everyone where we worked didn’t know that I was a Nukie.

I sigh exasperatedly.

“No, Bria.”

I walk over to my stool and sit down, careful not to tip it over as I lean forward and look through some paperwork. I can feel Bria’s eyes on my face as I attempt to read. I give up and lay the papers down, turning to face her. As I expected, her eyes are alight with excitement and her lithe body looks like she’s ready to spring on me. I eye her warily and take the bait,

“What?” I ask.

“ You didn’t hear?” she asks, excitement still present in her voice.

“If I’d heard anything worth warranting excitement, I wouldn’t be asking would I?” I say, annoyance in my voice.

It sails completely over Bria’s head or maybe she just ignored it.

“ They found something.” she says, trying to keep her voice down to a whisper.

“What do you mean they FOUND something?” I ask.

Could she be talking about the Feds? Did they finally “crack” the code to us Nukies?

Bria looks around nervously and gets a little closer to me which is beginning to make me a little uncomfortable. I’ve seen Bria excited, but never like this.

“They tested a girl yesterday and Raheed was checking her blood when he found something. We did the necessary tests and....” Bria said, trailing off. She glanced around nervously. I looked around too and everyone was focusing on the task in front of them. I wondered why she was so nervous.

“ And?” I asked.

“ It worked.” she said, letting out a breath as if she’d been carrying a stack of concrete blocks.

My face must have betrayed how surprised I was.

“ What?!” I said in a rather loud whisper which garnished some looks from our colleagues.

“Shhh. Keep your voice down. Not everyone in the lab knows.” Bria said leaning in close to me.

“What? Why?” I asked. Why would it be a big secret anyway? Isn’t this what we’d been working towards for months anyway?

“ I don’t know. But...be careful. I don’t know what this could mean. They may try and experiment on you next. And, you’re my friend. I don’t want to lose you.” Bria said, tears in her eyes.

I laughed and reassured her, “Bria, I’ll be fine. I’m sure they won’t. Besides, they need me don’t they?”

“ Well, yes and no. Now that they know they can do it with the teams they have, what’s not to say they won’t just forego their no-touch rule and go after you next? I mean, it’s feasible.” she said worriedly.

“Bria. I think you’re being paranoid.” I said and turned back to my paperwork.

She was right. What was to keep them from coming for me next? I wasn’t going to be some god damn lab rat for these people. And, I enjoy being a Nukie. It keeps me safe in a lot of ways. It seems to me that the only real danger in this new world are the damn humans. I mean, I still consider myself human, but a lot of people would say I’m a mutant or a monster. Nukie is a kind term and Meta-Human is what the scientists call us. They say we’re the next step in the evolutionary change. They want to understand why people like me are so special that we get to have the privilege that comes with being a Meta-Human. Everyone wants to be the cool kid on the block. It’s not exactly like I asked for this, but I’m not exactly complaining either.

I feel like an X-Man everyday. I’m just thankful I’m not Rogue. It would seriously suck to have to wear gloves everyday of my life. Wolverine doesn’t seem like a great character in terms of if I had to choose to be him. Being Storm would be pointless underground, although, she is pretty bad-ass. Jean Grey was pretty cool, but she had a lot of issues with her powers. Cyclops, I’ll pass on that one. Gambit was...interesting. Nightcrawler was pretty cool. I don’t know. I think about this often. I get to be my own X-Man. Hey, maybe I can grab a bunch of meta-nerds like me and form my very own X-Men group in real life. How could would that be?

My mind tends to wander and jump from thought to thought. I kind of can’t help it. I was so stuck in my thoughts that I didn’t realize how quiet everything had gotten around me. I look back up and everything around me is different. People aren’t moving at all and the room is no longer bright and mostly white. It’s a stormy gray and there’s a mist that’s sort of snaking around everything like I’m walking in a countryside in a zombie movie or something. I carefully get up from my stool and I wave my hand in front of Bria who is staring in my general direction. Her body stays the same. Her eyes don’t move at all. Freaky.

I can hear this low humming sound and a faint sound of what sounds like whale song? What the hell? The room is suddenly very cold and I wrap my lab jacket around me even more. I take my goggles off and put them down on the table in front of me. Is everyone frozen in time? Is this Me? It has to be Me doing this. This has never happened before. I leave the lab and dash as quickly as I can to the experiment room. This room requires a certain level of clearance that I don’t really have. I’m on the lower end of what I’m allowed to do, see and participate in. If ever I wanted the full answers to what they do to people like me, now’s the time. I’m not sure how long this will last, so I’m really praying to every God that exists that it stays this way long enough for me to snoop and get back to my desk like nothing ever happened.

I remember watching a bunch of sci-fi movies when I was a kid. I loved watching all of the old stuff. The Twilight Zone was my favorite. I remember thinking about all of the possibilities of the world and wondering if any of those things are possible. Now that I’m older, I still think it’s all very possible. I had always wanted a different life. I used to beg for anything other than the mundane. Well, I got it. There was a war and multiple nuclear bombs were dropped. Everyone wanted so badly to win that they stopped caring about who they were fighting for. In the end, no one won. I guess, maybe we did. If this had never happened, I would never know what I could be capable of, what I could become. I feel like I’m in a sci-fi novel. If you think about it, I am. Dystopian future, protagonist with a heart-wrenching backstory. I think about this as I make my way down the multiple hallways I’ve walked so many times. I stand outside the door that’s heavily guarded. There are 4 SWAT officers that are heavily armed and quite intimidating. This is my chance.

I slip past them and go through the doors to see multiple scientists frozen in various poses around the room while they do different things. In the center of the room is the president of our branch staring at a man that is naked and suspended in clear fluid with various tubes hooked up to his body. Walking around the man, I see that his eyes are open. I gasp because I notice that the color of his irises are similar to mine. I’ve never seen anyone else with eyes like mine. I don’t have any siblings, so I know we can’t be siblings. He looks about my age and is well-built. I avert my eyes and try very hard not to look down, even though I want to. The last time I had a boyfriend was in college before the war. He didn’t make it. There hasn’t been anyone since.

So this is what they’re working on back here. I walk around the room, eyeing everyone cautiously and read over some of the various paperwork that I see. It seems like they’ve been working on him his whole life. He’s a year younger than me and he’s an orphan. They took him from one of the bunkers and have kept him here ever since. His name is Project number 12. They couldn’t even give him a fucking name? This is cruel. I wonder what they’re doing to him. I’m assuming they’re experimenting on him, but I wonder what for. Is he like me? He must be to have my eyes. I wonder if he has this ability too. I press my hand to the glass. I feel this connection with him now.

I don’t know how much time I have. I’m lucky as all get out that I’ve had this long without getting caught. I turn to head out of the room and look back one last time. His eyes meet mine and I let out a gasp. Is he...awake? I back away and run down the halls to my stool and compose myself. When my breathe finally evens out, the world swims back into focus. Noise fills my ears and I can hear the on-goings of the lab. No one even noticed I was gone. So, I can control how long I freeze time after-all. I look around and everything is bright, white and clear again. What was with that weird mist anyway?

Bria comes over to me and scares the shit out of me when she whispers, “Boo.”

“Shit, Bria! Why would you do that?” I say.

Bria looks surprised and steps back.

“Woah, you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.” Bria says.

“I’m fine. Just...tired.” I say, putting my pen down and rubbing my eyes with one hand.

“Are you having the nightmares again?” Bria asks.

“Yeah.” I say, looking up at her.

“ I’m sorry Rory.” Bria says, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I lay my hand over her hand.

“Thanks Bri. I appreciate it.” I say.

“You should go home. It’s not like they’ll notice if you aren’t here. There’s only like a thousand of us. What’s one day anyway?” Bria says.

“Yeah, maybe I will.” I say.

I work for another hour and decide to go home. I feel strange and think about that man that I saw. Was he looking back at me? Was he unfrozen? It’s weird. I feel like he’s watching me even now, but that isn’t possible. But, I can’t stop the feeling of being watched. I turn around in the street and everyone is doing their own thing. No one is looking at me. I turn around and head home.

I hang my jacket up and call out, “I’m home!”

The house is silent.

“Dad?” I call out. Complete silence.

I head upstairs and see him in bed.

“Dad?” I ask again quietly, gently putting my hand on his shoulder trying to wake him.

My breath catches in my throat. My hands shaking, I put two fingers on the side of his throat to feel for his pulse. There isn’t one. I fall back on the floor and look at his body. He’s gone.

#NANOWRIMO #writersoftumblr #4915 words

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epiphanyx7 · 6 years

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Personal rant:

A long time ago I read something about Stockholm syndrome. It’s not the DSM definition, just something that was being used to describe some kind of long-term abusive situation. I don’t remember the details, or where I heard it, or anything definitive about the memory itself. I just remember that someone, at some time, told me that Stockholm Syndrome existed because people will start to equate love with the absence of abuse. And this isn’t meant to be about Stockholm Syndrome specifically, but I remember at the time feeling that something in that explanation was profound. Love is not the absence of abuse, and it’s a problem if you start to confuse the two.

The thing is that I only sort of understood it at the time. I had learned as a teenager that it didn’t matter what I did, or how I acted. Abuse was an inevitability, and my behaviour didn’t effect it. If I was good, I would be lied to and manipulated and blamed for misbehaviour and told I was worthless, and I would be hit because my mother was angry. And if I was bad, those things would still happen but at least I could tell myself it was actually my fault, that I deserved it. And it was easy to fall into that trap, of thinking that I was in control because I made sure that when she abused me, it was because I’d done something terrible to arouse her anger.

And in the times between outbursts, I knew that the cycle was resetting and I’d be back where I started soon enough. I never thought she loved me during the times when she was nice and friendly, I knew it was a front she was using to manipulate the world around us. I never once believed she would love me, that she would care about me, or that she’d stop abusing me. I wanted it, of course I wanted it-- I was a kid, what kid doesn’t want their parents’ love? But I never expected to have it. I thought it wasn’t there, that she was incapable of loving anyone.

But for the longest time, I thought that my father loved me. I assumed it based on childhood memories of good times-- of when I was sick and he let me cuddle with him, of him letting me fall asleep on him in church, of the way he would intervene when my mother’s abuse crossed the line from emotional to physical. I remembered those things and thought they were love, because I genuinely couldn’t understand how any parent could not love their child.

But the thing is, it’s equally hard to understand how my dad could be the unfeeling, uncaring piece of shit he is -- the uncaring, soulless bastard he comports himself as-- if those memories are correct. I’m sure it’s possible for both sets of experiences to be equally valid, it’s just that it’s not probable.

The thing is, my father’s always been super... lazy, when it comes to putting in efforts for his actual relationships. Entitled and lazy, becuase while he does his work efficiently and is more than willing to go the extra mile for the things he cares about, it’s hard to believe that I’ve ever quallified as something he cares about.

When it comes down to relationships, he follows the path of least resistance. He was always more willing to give me his money than his time. I thought he was bad at communicating, that he genuinely didn’t know how else to be a father. But the thing is, after seeing him interact with his son, it’s hard to compare the relationship he has with his daughters and not feel like I’ve been cheated. He doesn’t care what I have to say. He asks how I am, but he doesn’t want to know about my problems. He wouldn’t let me live with him when I moved across the country (although, I am skeptical of the accuracy of that statement. Given that my sisters lied to get me here, I wouldn’t be surprised if they lied about asking him at all, even though I think I’m still giving him too much credit). I asked him to teach me to drive, and he offered to pay for driver’s ed instead. Sure, there’s no reason why I should see this as a slight, but it points to him not being willing to spend time in my company when he could just throw money at the problem instead.

The thing is, I have gotten so used to being gaslighted and manipulated by my family that I don’t even notice anymore when they’re being unreasonable, I can only notice my own feelings and reactions. So maybe I’m overreacting, but I have cPTSD so maybe I’m not.

I’ll put it like this:

I am looking back at my childhood and asking myself, “Is this love? Or is is the absence of abuse?” And the overwhelming majority of it is merely the absence of abuse. And it’s kind of shocking to me, now, because I had never questioned those happy childhood memories I had. I’d clung to them because they comforted me, but I can’t help but remember how controlling and unreasonable he was. And most of the church stuff was unreasonable even to the other people in the church! I can’t help but wonder-- was it because he actually believed in that garbage, or was it just a way of making sure his wife and children were isolated and completely under his thumb?

Because the real effect of all his ridiculous religious rules was: I didn’t have friends. I couldn’t have friends, because they’d want to watch movies or go bowling or eat meat, and I couldn’t because those things were “worldly” and thus the temptations of Satan. The only people who wouldn’t tempt me with the devil’s influences were other people from our church-- which was in another city, far away. People who I could only see once a week, and never socially because they lived too far away.

And when I finally did start going to public school -- (and the only reason that happened was because my mother was fed up with homeschooling) -- I was the kid who dressed weird, ate weird food, and wasn’t allowed to do literally anything at all because of a strange religion nobody had even heard of. How much of my ability to make friends was stunted because of my own issues, and how much because my parents kept me deliberately isolated from outside influences?

I know it’s probably not fair blame everything on them, it’s just hard to look at my own childhood and think “okay but was that real? Was that because they cared about me or because they were abusers?” especially when the overwhelming conclusion I’ve come to is that most of it was because they were abusers. My father didn’t abuse me, not because he was any less of an abuser than my mother was or because he loved me, but rather because I was too young to really understand the psychological conditioning he used to control my mother and sisters, and eventually because by the time I was old enough to actually be effected, my mother had gotten rid of him.

The weirdest thing is I knew that what he was doing was wrong. I knew that his controlling behaviour was bad, my sisters and I were good at ducking the rules and toeing the letter of the law if not the spirit. I remember at a young age, conspiring with my sisters to distract the parents so we could watch tv. We bribed our youngest sister to pretend to “fall” down the stairs because she was still learning to walk, and then while my parents were comforting her, we watched cartoons. We knew that we’d be in trouble if we were caught, but it was just... worth it to us. And there were lots of other things we did, things that we lied about and compared notes with other girls at our church in order to have ideas. We wore clear nailpolish and told our father that we used hairspray to make our nails shiny. We used clear mascara as well. We raced down the block to stop the ice cream truck in front of someone else’s house. I remember lying to my parents and telling them that my older sister had a headache and had gone to bed, because I knew she snuck out to go to a party. We all did stuff like that and we thought it was normal, we thought it was what children were supposed to do.

And the thing is, as an adult now I know that children are people and that you couldn’t control their thoughts if you wanted to, and you shouldn’t want to anyways. I know it but it’s so hard to look at my own childhood and realize that a lot of the punishments we accrued were abuse. Who beats a child with a leather belt because they watched cartoons?

There are lots of incidents of abuse that were invisible to me up until now because my parents treated it like discipline. When it comes down to it, even though I knew what the punishment would be, I did the things anyways because the rules didn’t make sense to me. Who tells their child that they can’t watch TV? Ever, I mean, not just when they’re grounded. Who tells their children that they can’t watch Cinderella, because it “contains witchcraft, and witches are evil”? Who tells their children that the punishment for lying is being beaten with a leather belt, and that the punishment for illicit tv watching is being beaten with a leather belt, and the punishment for not doing your chores is being beaten with a leather belt, and the punishment for being disrespectful is being beaten with a leather belt, and that the punishment for -- for everything, for reading a book with supernatural elements, or talking back, or being rude, or being upset in public, or making a scene, or not memorizing a bible verse, or dressing inappropriately, or having a boyfriend, or really just anything at all -- is being beaten?

Because that was it. That was the only “punishment” my parents used to control our behaviour when we were little. Sure, the number of times we were hit varied for specific infractions, but it wasn’t like we knew ahead of time. Any time the rules were broken, we were beaten, and the rules were subject to change whether we knew it or not. Add to that the psychological abuse, the overly controlling and possessive behaviour, the fact that I know at least one time when my father choked my older sister almost to unconsciousness when she was only three years older than me (so she couldn’t have been more than 12 at the time) means that he was as bad as my mother was. Just, not to me. Not where I saw it.

And I knew, I knew when I read my mother’s journal that he had been controlling and abusive sexually. I knew that he had been horrible to her, but I didn’t much care because she decided to abuse me and my sisters instead of leaving him or killing him. So now I am looking at my childhood thinking, did he ever love me? Have I been making assumptions this whole time because I’ve confused a lack of abuse-- in this case, a lack of direct abuse that I recognized as abuse-- with love? And I can’t tell. I have no idea. I know, intellectually, that both my parents are at least emotionally invested enough in my physical well-being that they were both upset when I was hospitalized. My mother held my hand while I was in the ICU, my father apparently was pretty distraught. But then I remember --- brief flashes of understanding as a child, I remember seeing my sister burn his prized possession in the fireplace and having some idea that she’d be... safer if I was with her when he found out, safer because dad wasn’t going to abuse me. I knew he was dangerous, even back then. But my mom kicked him out before he was a danger to me and my younger sister, and then he was mostly just a voice on the phone, someone not paying child support or not paying enough, someone who was entirely absent.

And now I look at him and I can’t help but think, okay. There’s my father the rapist. There’s my father who abused my mother, who used to use a leather belt to beat children who were under the age of 10. That’s my dad.

And I have dealt with all the emotional fallout of my mother as abuser, but now I have the sudden realization that I have never dealt with my father as an abuser. I have all this pent up rage and frustration and helplessness, and I know it’s only coming out now because I’ve been in closer contact with him this past two months than I have been since he lived with us when I was a kid, but at the same time I never had the words or awareness to understand it. So now I’m just... hurt. I’m hurt because I know that nothing has changed, but it feels like something monumental has happened. In a moment I lost the loving father I thought I had, I lost all the happy memories from my childhood based around him, and instead I’m stuck in the world which is objectively the same, but subjectively feels different. Now I’m a person who was abused and neglected by both her parents instead of “just” one.

The thing is I always wanted to believe that someone in my family loved me. And maybe they do, I won’t argue because I’m aware that I’m terrible at recognizing affection from other people because of all the abuse and neglect in my childhood. I don’t see it when it’s there. But it’s so fucking difficult, because I’m so used to being neglected that whenever people try to care for me, I feel like it has to be an obligation or a duty. I feel like the person I appear to be to others is a mask I have to wear, and that I’m ‘tricking’ people into caring for me. And then I have some sort of imposter syndrome thing going on in my own life, where I get angry that people see the mask or care about the mask, I feel like the real me is getting shafted in that transaction, but I’m also constantly putting up barriers to people knowing the real me, because I have to keep everything secret and safe so it can’t be used to manipulate and hurt me. And what’s truly stupid is the fact that even though the mask is me, it’s my public face, but I still feel like people can’t care about the real me if they care about the public me, even though it’s all me! It’s all one person! I don’t have multiple personalities that I know of, so I shouldn’t be jealous of or resentful of my own damn self, and I shouldn’t be angry when people care about the parts of me that I choose to let them see. But I can’t stop.

Ugh. Mental health is so fucking hard.

</rant>

#don't reblog #child abuse #personal

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atleastputinsomeeffortinuroc · 6 years

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Rant: My Opinion on Venom the Character --aka-- The Tragedy of Eddie Brock

Let’s talk about Venom for a second.

With his new solo movie coming out starring the always impeccable Tom Hardy, I think it’s time we discuss everybody’s favorite muscle-bound Spidey villain/ruthless anti-hero, because…I well I say everybody loves him, when that’s not entirely true.

I’ve never really been a big fan of Venom. Specifically as an anti-hero.

I agree with the masses when I say Venom (when written in a certain way) is a great, GREAT villain and near prefect counterpart to Spider-Man to truly challenge him as he is very much the embodiment of his failed responsibilities. (Failure to help Eddie, failure to control the suit and just throwing it away rather than truly destroying it.) However, when placed in the morally gray protagonist role like you would put, say, the Punisher, Venom has always come off as just completely and utterly boring to me. I have never seen nor understood the appeal. He’s just a big, muscly, edgy Spider-Man with a creepy smile that goes on about “WE MUST FEED” or some horseshit that lacks any sort of drama and tension, instead relying on blood and gore to satisfy the crowd.

Now, the reason why I believe this is mainly because I think the most interesting aspects of Venom are lost the instant you put him in that anti-hero role. More specifically, you lose Eddie Brock’s tragedy.

What does that mean? Well, it’s…complicated. In order to find out why—you’ve gotta break down Eddie to his fundamentals as a character and find out what makes him work, before you go in and look at what doesn’t.

Spoilers for the character ahead, and also I should mention that this is all MY opinion. If you love Eddie Brock and wanna disagree with me, you’re free to do so. Just know that I’m not saying EVERYONE IS WRONG AND I AM RIGHT. This is my own personal deal with the character that I felt has bugged me and has finally come to a head that I gotta get off my chest. Good? Good.

Alright, let’s start off with the two building blocks of Venom: Eddie Brock and the Symbiote.

The Symbiote is some space-dimensional-parasite thing that is this thing that feeds off of the emotions of its partner, and then gets a small bit of their emotions that becomes a part of them. Each symbiote, according to new lore, has its own personality and ideas—but the symbiote that fell on our character has had…let’s just say a very VERY difficult couple of previous hosts before Peter Parker ever entered the picture. It lost its mind and became this thing that fed off of one emotion more than any—pure, seething rage. That last part, to me anyway, is the most crucial part of what defines Venom and separates him from the other incarnations like Carnage or something. This suit is fueled by the darkest part of the human id, the place where your darkest fantasies and thoughts that you refuse to give the light of day manifest. As long as dark thoughts exist in your mind, it will gravitate towards them and expand them ten-fold. It’s more than just some black goo that gives you powers—this is a living, breathing thing that cannot be negotiated with, and cannot be controlled. It can only be submitted to.

Eddie Brock is another thing entirely. Many different people have many different takes on the dude, but based off of his different origin stories, and how he’s set up, there is one fundamental item that has always defined him before the suit: tragedy. Eddie Brock has always got the short end of the stick in basically every department. He’s either lost his job, or he’s lost his mentor, or he’s lost his girlfriend—hell, he’s even once lost his future when he discovers that he has a tumor. Whether it’s because of these events, or how he was raised before, all of these things happening to him at once garnered two things within Eddie: contempt. Contempt towards those who got to have the life he’s always wanted but could never have because of *insert reason here.* It also doesn’t help that every decision he’s made to fix his life has always blown up in his face as well by trying to take shortcuts that he’s seen others get away with in the past easily, adding to his pain and suffering. He is, essentially, the one person in all the Marvel universe who can never catch a break. It’s that aspect that honestly makes Eddie Brock more interesting than the symbiote in some capacities. He’s more fleshed out, more humanized and shows just how bad things can go for people in the wake of mistakes that superheroes can make.

Now, for me, it’s when you combine these two where things can get…iffy. Mainly because it’s how you interpret or misinterpret either the symbiote, Eddie, or both that can make or break the character. For me personally, there’s one aspect of Venom that works the best, mainly because it makes the most sense with their characters and motivations. It ain’t the suit, it ain’t the symbiote, but instead Eddie himself. If you stop to think about it, there’s a kind of tragedy surrounding him.

Eddie sought solace in life and was refused time and time again by those around him. And then, at his lowest point, there is only one thing that gives it to him: the symbiote. The symbiote gives him the power that he’s always dreamed of, and lets him finally unleash the rage and contempt that has been boiling in his system for years. And it is ONLY THEN when Spider-Man finally tries to lay down an olive branch. He tries to get Eddie to fight it, to beat it, but by then Eddie is too far gone. Hell, I’d argue that the instant Venom starts to refer to himself in plural, that’s when Eddie truly died. They are better now. They have found peace within themselves. And they don’t need your sympathy. The idea of being told that you can be “saved” becomes a joke to those who were forced to save themselves.

Therein lies the tragedy: It isn’t that Venom isn’t given a chance at redemption, but rather that he refuses it.

When writers play into that effect, and show how depraved and demonic Venom is, and then juxtapose it with the shriveled up husk of a man that is Eddie Brock who only finds peace in becoming that terrifying thing—that’s when the character is firing at all cylinders I think. He becomes this horror show who you can’t help but feel the same amount of pity as you do fear of him. It’s almost a kind of Walter White situation in terms of losing oneself to your alter ego. This is why and how I find Venom fascinating.

But, on the contrary, when you try to put Venom in the different role of anti-hero rather than straight up villain, I draw the line in the sand.

Y’see, a fundamental part of what makes Venom so much of a cool villain is because he can’t escape his tragedy. He is literally bound to it. To make him anything other than an antagonist would go against that tragedy and therefore would go against his character, or completely and fundamentally alter the fabric of the character itself.

For example, say you go the direction of having Eddie try to fight the monster and control his powers. Real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde style. The issue you’ve got there is that, well, it’s already been done. Peter tried that a looooong time ago. Plus, it wouldn’t work for the character as he’s already accepted the symbiote as part of himself. “We” and all that.

Another example, say you have Eddie attempt to find a kind of redemption arc and finally own up to his responsibilities. While yes, you can have this done where Eddie finally controls his anger and rage and can become a hero…but it has to come at a cost. Looking at this narratively, the one way to finally put it all behind him would be to defeat the thing that is keeping him from becoming human again, and there’s only one item in Brock’s past that does so—the Symbiote. For him to do a proper redemption arc that makes sense for the nature of the symbiote and how Eddie would move forward (and, admittedly, would be a good final note for the character,) he would have to destroy the suit or refuse to put it on again. Essentially, Eddie can be redeemed…but not Venom. If this were to be used, this would have to be Eddie’s swan song before leaving Venom proper.

The final option is, of course, why don’t you do a Punisher-type thing with Venom? He brutally takes out the bad guys that the other dudes won’t have the stomach to. While Venom could express his rage and anger against the right (or in this case ‘wrong’) people, and could provide an interesting issue for supporting heroes to tackle since he’s crossing the line for the right reasons, it’s kind of a one-trick pony. Long term it would fall flat on its face. It would get stale because you’d just see him constantly mowing people down with no consequence and no character development save for the occasional time when Eddie is justifying his actions. It would have to start and then, after a killing spree or two, he would get taken down by the heroes who force him back into a cage. This idea DOES fall in line with Eddie Brock’s tragedy, and admittedly could be done…but without that juxtaposition of Venom brutally murdering gangsters and supervillains with your Iron Men and Spider-Folks trying to maintain justice and order and are forced to take Venom down, it’ll all be lost.

You see where I’m going with this? Every time you try and set up Venom as an anti-hero, it just doesn’t work out that well. You either take away a fundamental part of what makes his character interesting, or you end up losing the character forever. He’s not like Punisher. He’s not like Deadpool. He’s not like, well, any other kind of anti-hero. He’s too much of a beast to be contained. It’s like trying to make the Joker out to be an anti-hero. You can’t. He’s done too many horrible things and would have no real reason to do any modicum of good in his entire life.

(Random hot take: I also don’t particularly care for Agent Venom. He just feels…lame. He has the Venom suit without the insanity of the symbiote or the contempt of Eddie, instead vying for a toned-down Flash Thompson who doesn’t have that strong a personality when put next to not only Venom, but Spidey and even Carnage. Also…really with the guns? You have a SYMBIOTE SUIT that can turn into ANYTHING and you choose GUNS?! That’s REEEEEAAALLY lame.)

Now. With ALL OF THIS BEING SAID. Let’s wrap right back around to the Venom movie.

In my eyes, there is only one real way you could feasibly do a Venom movie. It’s Eddie’s fall from grace and descent into madness. It’s a take on the world of bright super-heroes where even the best of them can’t necessarily save everyone, and create this beast out of your darkest nightmares. Perhaps it can even make a commentary on the collateral damage that super-heroes would have on society (not necessarily the death kind as seen in Civil War, but more of the problems they would create for the little people like Vulture from Homecoming—only expounded by constant tragedy rather than lack of a job.) Due to that, it would be less of a bloody slasher movie as much as a dark psychological thriller. Yes it would mean you wouldn’t necessarily see a LOT of Venom throughout the movie, but it would be something that emphasizes his best features while also being something you haven’t seen before from a super-hero movie.

It’s for this reason that I don’t mind that Venom isn’t in he Venom trailer. Hell, I’m happy he isn’t. Venom isn’t the best part of Venom, it’s Eddie Brock. The symbiote plays a part, yeah. But as a character, Eddie defines it. His growing contempt, his initial fear of giving into his “demons,” his tragic fall from grace, and his eventual acceptance of Venom as the only way to become whole which would THEN lead to the much-anticipated bloodbath. That’s why I’m glad it looks like he’s going to be more of the focus than Venom.

That being said, is the film going to go that direction I want it to? I don’t know. If I were a betting man, I’d say that it’s probably not going to be because of how little he connects to any kind of Marvel Universe due to rights, and how it looks like he’s going to be fighting different kinds of symbiotes with some ‘spooky organization’ that’s probably going to recruit him into being a citizen soldier or something. From what I saw in the trailer, that’s what it looks like. But, that being said, the fact that they focused so heavily on Eddie HOPEFULLY means it’ll be more about his aforementioned descent into madness rather than meaningless blood and gore. I don’t care if they completely change his origins—if they can make something interesting and meaningful then by God: DO IT. Look at what Spectacular Spider-Man did. The show altered Eddie COMPLETELY and made what I consider to be the BEST take on Venom’s character. It’s just the right amount of insanity mixed with the perfect amount of tragedy.

And at the end of the day, that’s what Venom’s all about: Insanity and Tragedy.

(Again, If you disagree with any or all of what I’ve said, feel free. But know I’m not telling you to feel this way, so don’t go bananas because I spoke my piece on a blog that nobody reads. This is just my personal opinion on the character. Nothing more.)

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ganglylimbs · 7 years

Text

A Cup Of Sugar

Pairing: Gavin Free/Lindsay Tuggey/Michael Jones/Meg Turney

Summary: Gavin gets new neighbors. This is how his life changes.

Notes: So, I’m late again with another story for Mavinseg week. This one is a combination of 3 seducing 1 and Go Big or Go Home.

Warnings: Neighbor AU, abstract amount of time. It’s also the longest one sot I’ve written. 10,855 words

Edit: I forgot to say, if you would like to buy me a coffee, please do!

The neighborhood was a small one, quiet with neatly manicured lawns and white picket fences. It was close enough to the nearest city, and to the nearest community college, that getting groceries wasn’t too much of a trek but far enough away that the prices were reasonable cheap. Gavin was no social butterfly, but even he knew most of his neighbors. He knew Burnie and Geoff from down the street often have BBQ competitions during the summer. He knew their wives, Ashley and Griffin, put up with because they love them. He knew not to disturb his grumpy neighbor Gus during Saturday mornings, as he’s most likely to be recovering from a hangover. He was friends with the rowdy but strangely nice group of college boys who live across the street from him. Though the guy scared him and was a bit weird, Gavin was even on friendly terms with Haywood who lived three doors down and to the left of him.

And of course he was well aware when quiet, funny Ray Narvaez Jr., who had previously lived to the right of him, moved to another city to live with his girlfriend. It was practically the talk of the neighborhood for two weeks. Gavin, being the guy’s next door neighbor and sort of friend, got used to the coming and goings of cars as the realtor showed off the house. Two months later, when the talk had slowed down, as did the cars, Gavin had mostly forgotten about it.

Gavin had just gotten back from a long shoot, paying the cabbie and thinking of the nice hot bath he was going to take, when the sight of a moving truck parked in front of the house next to his made him pause. I guess they sold the house? Which Gavin thought was weird, considering he hadn’t heard anything about it, especially with the way the neighborhood loved to gossip.

Not wanting to be caught awkwardly staring, Gavin finished paying the cabbie and quickly walked into his own house. Once the door was closed, he briefly thought about what he should do now. It was customary that he introduced himself, right? That was the social norm? So should he go over and say hi? Gavin didn’t really see the point in that and besides, it would require him to bring something (he can’t cook and after his disastrous try at meeting new people by bringing wine to the surprising-nonalcoholic Ryan, he was warily of trying that route again). So...maybe not.

What if they wanted to come over here and introduce themselves? Gavin looked around. His house was neat enough (?) and Gavin was great at faking small talk. But the thought of new people coming into his space slightly frightened him and Gavin found himself hoping it didn’t come to that.

So his best course of action was to meet them at the next block party, where they could be distracted by other people and no expectations would be placed on him. Nodding to himself for coming up with such an excellent plan, Gavin went to start that bath.

Of course, Gavin should have taken in the fact that it was spring and while they lived in a fairly warm place, Geoff and Burnie usually waited till they were sure that the cold weather wouldn’t come back before bringing out their pits.

So it wasn’t till a month later, when Gavin heard a knock on his door, that he realized he had no idea who this strange woman was on his doorstep.

“Hi there!” Gavin had to admit, she was cute. Shorter than him, and plumper, with bubble gum pink hair, she seemed to shine with happiness. Her smile was wide, her eyes bright, and Gavin couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“Hi?” Gavin asked, hyper aware that he was still in his shirt that he slept in last night and the hastily put on pajama bottoms.

She stared at him for a second before blinking. “Oh. Sorry. I guess I should introduce myself. Lindsay Tuggy, I recently moved next door.”

Gavin shook her outstretched hand, purely out of instinct. He was a bit shocked that this was his next door neighbor. If he had known that he may have gone over sooner-yeah no. No he wouldn’t have. “Gavin Free.”

“Nice to meet you.” There was that bright smile again and Gavin could feel his face getting hot. “I know we’ve never met before and I’m sorry if I’m bothering you and how awfully cliche this is, but could I borrow a cup of sugar?”

Gavin was a little taken aback. “Oh, um. Sure? Sure. I could go get it...or do you want to come inside? I have some tea I made up. It’s probably not hot but I could heat it up again. Or maybe some water-do you drink water? I don’t have a lot of other drinks-”

“Water is fine.” Lindsay broke in, chuckling a little.

Gavin smiled back at her, relaxing, and let her in. “Ok.”

Lindsay followed him into the kitchen. Gavin noticed her looking around as he got her a cup, fiddling with it for a few seconds as he tried to think of a topic. Small talk. He could do this. “So...you recently moved here? From where?”

“Oh from uptown Austin. Finally decided it was time to move in with my partners, to our very first house.”

“That sounds nice.” Gavin handed her the water. “What’s your partner’s name?”

“Partners. Meg Turney and Michael Jones, the loves of my life.” She beamed again and Gavin caught the dreamy look in her eyes.

He couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed that such a cute and nice girl was taken by not one, but two people, but quickly shook that off. “You sound really fond of them.” He noted.

Lindsay nodded. “I’m serious when I say I’ll probably spend the rest of my life with them.”

“Wow, I’m a bit shocked. But happy for you!” He quickly added on. “I can’t imagine finding someone to live with me, not to mention two people.”

“Oh, you can’t be that bad.” Lindsay teased.

“That’s because you’ve only known me for five minutes.” Gavin pointed out. “Trust me, I’m terrible. Can hardly take care of myself.”

“Sounds just like me! I’m so lucky I met Michael and Meg. I probably wouldn’t have made it this long without them. I’d burn water and I tend to throw my clothes everywhere. Michael threatened to break up with me the next time he trips over my shoes.”

“I’m horrible at making food too.” Gavin replied. “The last time I tried to make food for myself, I nearly burnt my kitchen down.”

“I almost did that too. Thank God for take out, right?”

“Absolutely. Gets a bit expensive though.” Gavin laminated.

“Well, maybe I’ll bring you some of Michael’s food. He’s great at feeding me. And Meg is fabulous at baking sweets. Which reminds me.” Lindsay looked over Gavin’s shoulder, at the clock on the microwave. “I should probably get back with that sugar.”

Gavin quickly straightened up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

Lindsay flapped her hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. Meg can wait a few minutes.”

They were walking back to the door, saying their goodbyes, when Lindsay caught sight of Gavin’s cat slinking around.

Lindsay immediately stopped, squealing. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah. His name is Smee.” Gavin looked over to where Smee was giving them an unimpressed look, sat atop Gavin’s couch like a King on his throne. “I’m guessing you like cats?”

“I fucking love cats. Unfortunately, Michael hates them and refuses to let us get one. We do have a dog, but that’s because Meg had Penny before we started dating her.” Lindsay had already set her plastic tub of sugar down and was quietly calling to the cat with little kissing sounds.

“Woof. That sucks.” Gavin said as he watched her, instantly feeling sympathy. His old apartment hadn’t allowed pets. It had been freeing, to buy his own house and get Smee. Less lonely too. “I love Smee, though he can be a little minge pot at times.”

“Minge pot?” Lindsay questioned, smirking up at him.

“It’s a word.” Gavin defended. “And Smee is the mingest cat. He sometimes gets grumpy and swipes at me. Or wakes me up at three am because he went mental.”

“Sounds like the cats I grew up with.” Lindsay gave up on trying to call Smee over to her. Gavin blames the way her mouth briefly turns down into a pout for the next words that come out of his mouth.

“You can come over some other time?” He offered. She tilted her head at him and Gavin looked away. “If you want to, that is, and play with Smee a bit. He’s usually more relaxed and willing in the morning, after being fed.”

Lindsay was silent for a brief second before breaking out into that sunny smile that Gavin’s was starting to associate with her. “That’s sounds awesome. Michael will certainly be grateful anyways.”

Gavin waved goodbye to Lindsay from his doorway, a piece of paper in hand with a date for when Lindsay would next come over. As soon as he shut the door, Gavin felt some panic starting to set in.

What had he done?

Flowers had started to bud as spring set in and Lindsay had visited him four more times. Most of the time, it was to play with Smee and lightly talk with Gavin (those visits usually lasted no more than ten minutes) but she also had a habit of coming over to borrow something from him.

Mostly sugar.

“I’m starting to suspect you're taking advantage of me.” Gavin brought up one day as he handed her a full cup (neatly labeled Lindsay because if they were going to do this, Gavin was going all out).

“Would I do that? Me?” Lindsay fluttered her eyelashes at him. Gavin gave her a look and she laughed. “Ok, so maybe I’m being a little lazy. But at least it gives me an excuse to come talk to you.”

“You don’t need to make up an excuse.” Though Gavin was flattered she wanted to. He had half-thought that he had scared her away with his extensive talk of cameras and editing when they had talked about their jobs one day (though Gavin had to admit, she almost had him running for the hills when she casually mentioned she worked for a big name company. As the bloody CEO).

But she had stayed. And listened. And asked questions. And wasn’t that strange? Gavin wasn’t used to people being interested in his work. Yeah the people he worked for, and Dan, and his parents were, all to different degrees. But the people around here? The second Gavin dived into anything more than “I film slow motion”, people had a habit of tuning out.

Lindsay didn’t and Gavin was grateful for that.

So no, Gavin was more than ok with Lindsay popping up now and again. Dare he say, even looking forward to it.

Lindsay shows up for sugar and Gavin provides it without argument.

There’s a knock on Gavin’s door and Gavin eagerly opened it. Because either it’s a package from his company or Lindsay and Gavin was looking forward to both.

Instead, what he was met with was the sight of a grumpy looking guy, with freckles and glasses and short boyish hair and Gavin could feel his heart thumping loudly. It was like meeting Lindsay for the first time all over again, only with less blinding smiles.

“Are you Gavin Free?” The man asked. Or, well demanded.

Gavin could feel his shoulders hunching, mind racing to think about who he had pissed off. His company was happy with his latest video, he had cleared up that thing with his ex months ago, and Dan hadn’t inappropriately hit on anyone for a while. Nothing coming to mind, Gavin hesitantly nodded. “Yeah?”

If possible, the man’s frown deepened. “This is so fucking stupid.” He muttered before straightening. Gavin could only blink at him in confusion before the man continued. “My name is Michael Jones and I’m here to borrow a cup of sugar.” He paused before, almost reluctantly adding. “And some cold medicine, if you have any?”

Michael Jones? That name sound familiar-wait, cup of sugar? “Are you Lindsay’s boyfriend?” Gavin asked, eyebrows raising.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Has that idiot never mentioned us before? Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. Can I get that medicine?And sugar, I guess?”

Gavin licked his dry lips before letting Michael in and leading him to his kitchen. “Lindsay mentioned you. I just, uh, wanted to confirm? I guess.” He gave Michael the sugar before heading to the cabinet above his kitchen counter, rooting around for any left over cold medicine he may have had. “Did she send you over? Is she ok?”

“Yeah.” Michael’s voice was coming to the right of him. “Fucking idiot got herself sick and now I have to take care of her. Why she wants the sugar, I don’t fucking know. We have sugar at home.”

“You do?” Gavin looked over at him. Michael nodded. “Well she usually comes over to borrow some from me. I guess it’s more of an inside joke. She probably knew I wouldn’t remember her saying your name and so used that as a way to make sure I know she’s with you.”

“That or she’s a fucking idiot.”

Gavin frowned at those words. That was the third time he said that. It was hard imagining Lindsay, sunny Lindsay, with someone like Michael Jones. Even now, whenever Gavin glanced at the man, he was scowling at the room. Gavin hurried his search, wanting to end this meeting and becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the silence. He’d might have to ask about their relationship the next time Lindsay came to visit.

“So I only have a little of the off brand. It’s not much but I hope that it’ll do for now-” Gavin turned around and cut himself off as he tried to understand what he was seeing.

Michael was lightly petting Smee. He was still frowning but Smee seemed pretty happy enough for the both of them. Michael looked up to see Gavin staring at him. “What?”

Gavin shook himself. “Sorry, sorry. Just surprised, is all.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Surprised I’m petting your cat?”

Gavin shrugged, giving the man a small smile and hoping that it would calm Michael down. “Lindsay had mentioned that you didn’t care for cats?”

Michael stared at him. Then he slowly shook his head. “Of course she did.” He took the medicine and the sugar and headed for the door. Gavin followed, worried that he messed up.

As soon as they reached it, Michael spoke again. “I don’t hate cats.”

“What?”

Michael looked back at Gavin, still frowning but there was something...sad (???) about it. “I don’t hate cats. Lindsay likes to joke that I do. Sure, I’m a dog person. But I don’t hate cats. I just know we don’t have enough time to take care of one and I refuse to get a pet and treat it like a toy. Lindsay understands that. But she still wants one, one day.” His mouth twisted up at that, a small smile and his eyes seemed to sparkle a little, like he was remembering something funny.

Gavin was having a little mood whiplash. Michael had, honestly, seemed a little hateful. Unpleasant. But what he was saying was making sense and Gavin gained a little respect for him. Plus, the way he said Lindsay’s name, like something sweet he couldn’t get out of his mouth and didn’t want to, had Gavin thinking maybe he had judge Michael too quick.

But just as he was thinking that, Michael’s smile disappeared. “Thanks for the medicine. And the sugar.”

“Ah...you’re welcome.”

With a nod, Michael left. And Gavin was left standing there, thoroughly confused about what had just happened.

Three days later and Lindsay was back at his house. The first thing she said when he opened the door was “I’m sorry about Michael.”

Gavin turned to the side to let her in. “Hey Lindsay, how are you feeling? Your voice sounds a little rough.”

Lindsay sniffed at him. Her nose looked red and her hair was messy but her eyes were as clear as ever. “What? Yeah I’m fine. I just came to apologize for Michael.”

“Why? Did he say something?” Gavin asked as he lead Lindsay to the kitchen so he could pour her a glass of water.

“No, he didn’t. I know because he’s Michael.” Lindsay said it like that explained it. And maybe it did but what Gavin wasn’t sure. Instead he motioned for Lindsay to continue. “And because it’s Michael, I know the asshole acted like, well, an asshole. I wanted to apologize for it.”

“He was pretty...intense.” Gavin agreed.

Lindsay sighed before sitting down in one of the chairs, sipping at her drink. “Yeah, he can be. But honestly, it’s just because he was worried.”

“He seemed annoyed at me.” Gavin said, sitting down across from Lindsay.

“Like I said, worried. I was pretty sick but because I was suddenly busy at work, I didn’t really pay too close attention to what my body was trying to tell me. I woke up Tuesday dizzy and ready to vomit. Meg is out of town but luckily Michael was there. And Michael can get pretty protective when one of us gets hurt in any way so you can see where this is headed. He’s annoyed I didn’t take better care of myself, annoyed we don’t have any medicine, and annoyed that he has to ask for help.”

“Oh.” Gavin said, relieved as he slumped in his chair. “I thought he hated me.” Gavin had been so worried that he had done something to upset Michael. Worried that he had somehow ruined the friendship he had with Lindsay because her partner hated him.

“What?” Lindsay sputtered. “No, no. He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re cute actually-”

“What?” Gavin sat up.

“And if anything, he’s upset with me for making him look foolish in front of a pretty boy.”

Gavin was RED. He knew it, could feel the heat in his cheeks.

Lindsay smiled at him and if Gavin didn’t know any better, he would say that the smile was a bit devilish. “What?” Her voice was innocent. “That’s what Michael was most annoyed by, the fact that I told him he needed to ask for a cup of sugar. You wouldn’t believe the fit he threw. I had to argue with him for like, ten minutes. While I was sick.”

“Why?” Gavin moaned. He was a second away from dropping his head into his hand.

Lindsay shrugged, unbothered. “Because I thought it would be funny.” Gavin gave her a look. There was that smile again. “I had to entertain myself somehow.”

“You’re an arsehole.” Gavin grumbled.

“Yes, but I’m an asshole who got a good laugh when Michael slammed open the door, ranting about how silly he looked, standing on your doorstep, asking for a cup of sugar.” Lindsay leaned in, voice dropping down to a half-whisper, like she was sharing some big secret. “You know what he told me?”

Gavin was sure whatever Lindsay was going to say would make him blush again, but he leaned in.

“He told me that he felt like he was in some black and white film, like a suitor showing up on the doorstep asking for the hand of a delicate Southern Belle.”

And yep, there goes his cheeks. “He did not!” Not only couldn’t Gavin see the man he met yesterday saying those words, he wasn’t so sure if his poor brain could take it.

“Well, ok. Maybe not. But he did say he felt like some asshole from the 1950’s by doing that.” Lindsay was laughing. The cheerful sound was broken up by horrible coughing. Gavin sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do as he let it pass over.

“Are you alright?” He finally asked.

Lindsay nodded, taking in large gulps of her drink. “Yeah, I’m good. But I should probably go now, before Michael comes home. I promised I would stay in bed all day, no matter how boring it is.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Gavin gave her a little grin.

“Thanks.”

Before she left, Lindsay turned back towards Gavin, biting her lip. “I...I came over here to today because I wanted to let you know that Michael really is a sweet guy. Really. He’s romantic and fun to be around and. Well, I love him. And I know he didn’t leave you with the best impression. But he’s my partner and we’re friends and I...want you guys to get along.”

Gavin thought about the way Michael petted Smee, carefully, and the passionate response to why he didn’t want pets. “He certainly scared me, but if Smee likes him than he can’t be too bad right?”

Lindsay’s eyes went wide but she was smiling again. “He actually pet Smee?”

“And Smee let him.” Gavin eagerly agreed.

“He wouldn’t pet our old neighbor’s cat no matter how much Meg and I cooed over it!” Lindsay said, faux offended. “I can’t wait till he comes home to make fun of him for this one.”

To say his feelings surrounding Michael was confusing would be an understatement. When meeting with rude assholes or people that made him feel uncomfortable, Gavin’s stance on them usually didn’t change. But Lindsay seemed to be determined to make sure that they got along.

The next time she came over to chat, she brought along Michael.

It was awkward. Michael still scowled the entire time and Gavin remained fidgety. Lindsay was the only one who really talked, chatting excitedly about some big thing her company was going to do. Gavin tried his best to listen, but couldn’t get past the feeling of Michael’s eyes glaring at him. As they were starting to leave though, Michael caught sight of Gavin’s gaming system and they ended up staying an extra ten minutes, talking about favorite games and what new releases they were looking forward to.

The next time they come over, Gavin is out of town. This prompts Lindsay to ask for his phone number so they could text. Gavin doesn’t feel nervous when he hands it over.

Lindsay and Gavin send cat memes to each other. Michael asks that he not help fuel Lindsay’s cat obsession. Gavin starts sending pictures of Smee instead.

About the third time the two come over, it was unexpected and Gavin was slightly embarrassed by the pile of takeout he had yet to throw away. Michael took one look at it and then exploded. Started going into a tirade that embarrassed both Gavin and Lindsay. Then he left, leaving Lindsay to apologize. He reappeared twenty minutes later with home made food. Gavin took one bite and instantly forgave him.

It became, like, a thing between them. Lindsay would come over to pet Smee and Michael would feed Gavin some home made food. In between bites, they talked and Gavin grew to like the other man. Lindsay was right, he was really sweet. When you got pass the foul language and angry scowls that is.

Around the sixth time they came over, they brought another woman. She was beautiful, enough to make Gavin tongue tied. She had long purple hair and glasses, her makeup was spot on. She was thin looking, dressed in running gear. Michael introduced her as Meg. Gavin could only nod as his mouth had turned dry.

“So this is the guy you two have been sneaking off too.” Meg said, smile wide.

Gavin sputtered causing Meg to chuckle.

“We have not been ‘sneaking’ over here.” Lindsay admonish, but she was smiling too. “We told you where we were going. You were just too lazy to join us.”

“If by lazy, you mean incredibly busy than yeah. I was totally lazy.” Meg rolled her eyes.

“What do you do?” Gavin finally blurted out, having scrambled his brains back together in order to form a sentence.

“I’m a cosplayer.” Meg said. “I make all my own cosplay and have a Pateron going. I also make Youtube videos.”

“Wow, what do you cosplay?” Gavin asked. He never had the time or patience to cosplay himself, but he loved to look at what others did.

“Mostly video games. The last shoot I did was as Tracer from Overwatch.”

“Oh nice. Do you play?”

“Only occasionally. I usually play indie games instead. And Mario Kart!”

“I don’t think I’ve played Mario Kart since I was a teenager.” Gavin mused. He blinked as the three of them looked at him in shock. “What?”

“You haven’t played Mario Kart in how long?” Meg asked, sounding slightly offended.

“Um...I guess like, eight years?” Gavin said, confused.

“Lindsay.” Meg said.

“On it.” Lindsay replied, already heading towards the door.

“What?” Gavin asked.

“I’m going too. We’ll need snacks and I know he won’t have any.” Michael butted in, already following Lindsay.

“What?” Gavin asked again.

Meg laughed and grabbed him, dragging him deeper into his own home, towards the living room. “We are going to play Mario Kart. You get the added bonus of watching me kick everyone’s ass in it.”

Gavin could only grin as they began setting up his game station. Lindsay returned with the game and Michael with the promised snacks. Gavin thoroughly got his ass kicked by Meg but he wasn’t always last and delighted in the angry shouts Michael and Lindsay let out whenever they got screwed.

Mario Kart turned to beers and horrible movies and Gavin could honestly say he has never had so much fun in all of his life.

With the weather getting nicer, the Ramsey’s and Burn’s started their cookouts. Gavin of course was invited as was Michael, Meg, and Lindsay. The first one they attended, the neighborhood swamped around them, wanting to get as much information as they could. Gavin stayed a little away from the circle, knowing how tough it can be to be hounded with questions.

But after a few minutes, Meg had weaseled away to find and chat up Gavin.

“It’s good to see you.” She said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you anywhere but at your house.”

Gavin smiled. “I’m very...reclusive. I usually don’t have time to go outside and enjoy myself.”

“Shame. Michael has commented a few times about how your backyard would look lovely with a few flowers.”

“Michael likes to garden?”

“More like he likes to the act of being productive. He likes planting and pruning and watering. Don’t know if he actually likes the flowers. They do make a good background for photos though.”

“He really seems to like to work with his hands huh?” Gavin observed, looking over at where Michael and Lindsay were busy entertaining everyone. He noticed that Michael seemed to be hitting it off well with everyone. Lindsay was too, but he expect that of her.

Michael had a really nice smile. It showed off his dimples.

“Oh, I can assure you. He loves working with his hands.” Meg’s wink was raunchy.

It took real effort from Gavin to not spit out his drink. “That’s, uh. Good to know?”

Meg chuckled, taking a sip of her own drink. “By the way. What do you do for a living?”

Gavin, almost shyly, told her all about his work with slow motion. Meg asked question after question after question and Gavin found himself relaxing into a conversation with her. He told her all about him coming over to England at the recommendation of his mentor and setting up his business. That lead into a conversation about England and, after finding out about her stints in other states, California.

Gavin found himself really liking Meg. She could make him laugh about anything.

This continued for the next few barbecues. Everyone would gather around the newcomers, Meg would somehow slip away and find Gavin, and the two would engage in conversation before someone noticed them. Eventually, everyone got bored of questioning Lindsay and Michael, and the next time they came to a block party, they were left alone.

For some reason, they always chose to hang out with Gavin. Gavin would be talking to Geoff about something and they would pop up and immerse themselves in the conversation. Gavin ended up introducing them further to people, including Ryan (Gavin pushed down the feelings of jealousy-and what was that about-at the way Ryan and Meg got along so quickly) and Jeremy and Trevor and Matt and the rest of the college boys. That lead to Gavin finding one of Michael’s weakness-the man couldn’t say no to a bet.

Later, Gavin would have to apologize to Burnie for the chaos that followed.

Summer was always a busy time for Gavin (well, every season was busy, Gavin was always busy but particularly in the summer). Summers in Texas always produced good weather, especially the light Gavin needed to film. As long as he drank enough water and wore sunblock, Gavin filmed as long as he could.

As such, his visits with his next door neighbors went down. He still texted them (Meg had given her own number to Gavin, with much blushing on Gavin’s side, and Michael soon followed saying he might as well) but he sorely missed their face to face chats.

Also, Dan came to visit.

Gavin ran his business as sort of a one-man band. He filmed, he edited, he dealt with demanding producers, he created the website, and he owned the camera. Gavin did everything himself. Expect during the summer, when his workload picked up.

Dan wasn’t as experienced as Gavin was with camerawork, but he had helped Gavin when the Brit first started up his business. After awhile though, Dan had to go back home to England to take care of his grandparents, leaving the business to Gavin. But Dan was welcomed back anytime he wished. The problem was, Dan didn’t want to live in America and give up his house back in England and Dan wasn’t entirely set on being a cameraman either.

So the two came to an agreement. Whenever summer came around and Gavin got a little overwhelmed, Dan would come live with him till work slowed down. Then Dan would go back to England until next summer.

Gavin welcomed Dan into his house one fine May day. While Dan started to put his stuff away, Gavin called the company he would be working with tomorrow to tell them he was bringing an extra guy.

While he was negotiating prices with the man, Gavin heard a knock on his door. He put the guy on hold and opened the door to find Meg standing there, looking pristine and with a polite smile on her face. Surprised, he let her in and told her he had to finish a phone call first. Meg just nodded and Gavin went about his business.

A few minutes late, Gavin finished the call and walked into his kitchen to find Dan and Meg staring at each other.

“Meg, good to see you.” Gavin grinned, walking forward to give her a hug. Meg hugged back, a little tighter than Gavin was used to. “I’ve see you met Dan.”

“Yes.”

“He’s my best bet mate from England. He’s here to help me with work.” Gavin explained.

“Oh really?”

“Yes?” Gavin said. Something about Meg seemed...off. Meg was usually warm and friendly, at least to Gavin. It was weird to see her acting cold. “Is everything alright? Oh wait, you want a cup of sugar right?”

Dan snorted behind him.

“What?” Gavin questioned, turning to see his friend smirking.

“Nothing.” Dan replied, innocently.

“It sort of sounded like you were going to kiss me.” Meg jumped in, but she was smiling now. She winked at Gavin. “I wouldn’t mind getting some sugar from you.”

Gavin stammered as his brain disconnected. Meg shared a look with Dan before the two bust out laughing. After that, Meg seemed to warm up to Dan rather quickly as the three talked.

When Meg left, Gavin commented about Meg’s weirdness. Dan smiled at Gavin. “Looks like you got yourself a possessive bird there, Gav.”

Gavin gave him a look but didn’t commented. Probably just Dan pulling his leg again.

Expect Meg started visiting more often. Their visits were usually one every few days. Now it was like she found a reason to show up at Gavin’s house everyday. When Gavin asked, Meg just shrugged and said that Michael and Lindsay were out of town for a convention and she was lonely. It didn’t sound like a lie...but Gavin didn’t think it was the whole truth either.

Even when Michael and Lindsay came back, they just followed Meg to Gavin’s house. Gavin actually didn’t mind it, even with how busy he was, but it was weird. Lindsay was constantly touching him and Michael glared at Dan the entire time (more than usual, that is). Meg was the one to introduce them to Dan and Gavin didn’t know if he was imagining the way she put an emphasize on “friend”.

Dan took everything in stride, with an annoying little smirk. Like he knew something Gavin didn’t.

Gavin and Dan had just returned from a job out in California when Gavin got a text from Meg.

You want to have dinner with us tonight?

“Meg just asked us to have dinner with them.” Gavin told Dan, showing him the text.

Dan shook his head. “No. She asked you to dinner.”

“What?”

“Sounds like you’ve got a date, Gavin.”

“What?”

Dan’s smirk was slow to spread across his face. “B. I think she’s asking you out on a date.”

Gavin stood there blinking at him. “What?” He finally whispered.

“Gavin, they like you.”

“They do not.”

“They do. You should have seen the way they were all over you when they thought I was your boyfriend.” Dan continued to tease him.

“They weren’t.” Gavin knew his voice was getting a bit high. Dan just laughed at him and Gavin slapped Dan’s shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m telling you the truth. They like you and Meg just asked you on a date.” Dan said, matter-o-factly.

Gavin stared at his phone. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.” Dan gave Gavin a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Wear that dark blue shirt of yours, makes your eyes pop.”

“Dan.”

Gavin is not sure what to expect when he goes over to the Jones-Tuggy-Turney house. He flipped and flopped over if this was a date or not. Had stared into his mirror, wondering if he was overdoing it with the shirt. He had an intense debate about whether to bring flowers or not.

Instead he brought a cup of sugar.

When Meg answered the door, she burst out laughing. Gavin could feel his cheeks burning (why, why did they always make him blush). “I...I hope this is ok?” He asked, holding out the cup. His eyes roamed over Meg. She wore a white, off the shoulders shirt, that ended out in a ruffle with black tights that hugged her calves. She looked good and Gavin was grateful that he decided to go dressy today. He supposed he should thank Dan later.

“It’s fucking perfect. Come on in.” Meg took the cup, leading Gavin further inside.

Gavin looked around. It suddenly struck him that, with the amount of time the three of them visited his house, he had never visited theirs.

It was nice. They clearly put some love into decorating the place. Pictures of the three of them decorated the walls, there were flowers in a couple of vases setting on top of tables (Gavin asked if they were Michael’s-Meg said yes), and an old clock sat in the corner. It sort of made Gavin’s house look bare.

Lindsay met them in the hallway, handing both Gavin and Meg a glass of wine. “You look good.” She said, looking him up and down.

“You do to.” Gavin replied, returning the favor. Lindsay had on a long-sleeve black sweater with a short pale skirt. Her black heels clicked against the wooden floors.

They made small talk for a bit, Gavin even met Meg’s little weiner dog Penny, before moving into the dining room, which was connected to the kitchen, the only thing separating them was a counter. In the kitchen, Michael was cooking. He looked over his shoulder at them and smiled. Gavin liked having those dimples aimed at him. Michael looked just as cute as the girls. He had on soft looking jeans and a light blue shirt, covered by a long brown jacket. His curly hair was covered by a brown beanie.

“I hope you like steaks? I figured I couldn’t go wrong with a steak.”

“I bloody love them.” Gavin reassured.

“Great, how do you want it cooked?”

“Medium, please.”

“Do you want to sit down?” Lindsay asked. “You look a bit tired?”

“I just got back from a shoot. Two days with very little sleep and I have to head out again Friday.”

Meg made a sound of sympathy. “I know that feeling. Back to back flights? It’s horrible.”

“Especially if you get the middle seat. The last time I had a middle seat, it was an absolute nightmare.”

“Tell me about it. One time I had a guy lean his head on my shoulder, using me as a pillow.”

“No.” Gavin said, aghast.

“And then he started reading my texts!”

“No!”

“Ok, you two. We don’t need to be discussing flying at the dinner table.” Lindsay said.

“Yeah, we hear Meg bitching about it enough. We don’t need two of you doing it.”

“Aw, but Michael.” Gavin said.

Michael pointed his finger at him, grinning. “Don’t you Micoo me.”

“But it’s cute the way he says your name.” Lindsay chimed in.

Gavin ducked his head and quickly steered the conversation to what they had been up to that week. Meg told him about the cosplaying she’s building, Michael complained about this shitty electrical job that he had to do, and Lindsay told him her company was thinking of buying their competitor. Gavin listened, amused by the way they told their stories and the way Michael exaggerated, hands flying all over the place.

The food was served, along with more wine and water. Gavin eagerly dug into his food, openingly moaning. “This is as good as always.”

“I’m glad you like it so much.” Michael looked far too pleased with himself.

“Hey, I made the potatoes.” Lindsay piped up. “Took me all day to peal too.”

“No you didn’t.” Meg said. She stabbed her fork at Lindsay. “This are instant.”

“Michael would never let us eat instant.” Lindsay said, sticking her nose in the air.

“I would if someone forgot to actually pick up potatoes and then had to go to the store thirty minutes before Gavin arrived.”

Lindsay pouted.

Gavin was grinning like a loon. He pointedly took a bite of the potatoes. “This taste delicious too, Lindsay.”

Lindsay stuck her tongue out at the other two.

Meg rolled her eyes before asking Gavin about his plans to attend the party the college boys were throwing. “The whole neighborhood is invited.”

Gavin shrugged as casually as he could. “I’m not good with parties, but if you guys go I will.”

That seemed to greatly please Meg.

The rest of the night went much the same. They swapped stories about their childhood and experiences in life, asked about parents and other relatives, touched on their dreams for the future, and even got into an argument about the way Gavin pronounced his words.

It felt comfortable and familiar.

Gavin helped them clean up, even going so far as to offer to help clean dishes, and all three walked him to the door. Gavin bit his lip before asking the question that had been on his mind for the whole night. “So...this was a date right?”

Meg’s smile was wide and soft. “Of course it was.”

Michael snorted. “You idiot. Yes.”

Lindsay giggled. “If you want it to be. I mean, I was hoping it was a date considering how much I like you and all.”

“Really?” Gavin asked, hopeful.

“Oh man, you should have seen these two.” Meg broke in. “They wouldn’t shut up about the cute neighbor with the amazing accent who I just had to meet. Lindsay practically threw away all our sugar at first so she could go over to talk to you-”

“I told you didn’t have to do that, Lindsay.” Gavin interrupted. Lindsay just shrugged.

“And Michael was an anxious mess for those first day, worried he had lost his chance.”

“As if you’re any better.” Michael pointed out. “The second you met him, you told us how much you wanted to ruin him.”

Meg wiggled her eyebrows at Gavin. “Oh I definitely did. And still want too.”

Gavin just shook his head. “So this was a date then.”

“Yep.” They all agreed.

Then they kissed him.

Meg’s kiss was hot. She clearly knew what she was doing as she pulled him closer to her, manhandling him into the perfect position so she could slot her lips against his.

Michael’s was passionate. His hold was tight against Gavin’s shirt, his lips aggressive as they clashed with Gavin’s.

Lindsay’s was sweet. She wiped off a bit of Meg’s lipstick from his mouth before pulling him in. Her’s was shorter than the rest, but she left Gavin with a nip on his bottom lip.

Gavin was dazed as they all smirked at him. “So...a date next week?”

“Date next week. But you’re planning it.”

They continued to visit him, but now the visits had a lot more making out included in them. Lindsay would peck him on the check before crouching to scratch Smee. Michael would demand a kiss in exchange for his food. Meg would pull him into a kiss as soon as they saw each other.

Gavin noticed that they were very generous too. Meg brought flowers as often as she could and Michael made a comment about decorating Gavin’s backyard. Lindsay would look online for objects that he commonly needed in his field and order them for him (even if it wasn’t a part Gavin needed, he still kept it, grateful that she bought it thinking of him). Michael brought over games they could play together and the two often shared their games’ library.

Dan had been right in calling them possessive. They would lay their arms across his shoulders and waist, would sit or lean close to him, had even sat in his lap a few times. The first time Meg did this at one of Geoff’s parties, Gavin had to hide his face in her neck at the teasing he got. Meg had no shame, of course, and neither did the others. They kept up their physical contact. Gavin didn’t mind as much as he complained he did.

Gavin also noticed how much more he was going to their house now. It just seemed easier, with all of them living there. Even if it was arriving at their house so that they could go somewhere else. Gavin started to think of the place as his second home. Slowly, little by little, he started leaving his things there. Some socks, a book, his controller-even his phone once.

He startled himself one day upon finding an extra toothbrush for him in their bathroom. And after they started having sex, he left an extra pair of clothes and pajamas in their room.

Sometimes, when Gavin slept in his own bed in his own house, he thought about what it would be like to live there full time. To always wake up looking at Michael, curled around Lindsay with Meg at his back. What it would be like to add his things into the mixture, his hair gel mixed in with their makeup and his coffee cup sat next to theirs. He would close his eyes and imagine adding new pictures to their walls, ones including him.

Of course that was all his imagination as they had only been together for a couple of months. It was too early to be thinking of living with them. Don’t let yourself sink too deep, Free. He scolded himself. You don’t want to mess this up.

After all, they hadn’t even mentioned anything to do with moving in together. And Gavin sure wasn’t going to be the one to ask.

Fall came and went in it’s usual whirlwind of gold and red. Dan went home, a neighborhood wide prank war started by Jeremy was ended by Ryan, and Gavin was still dating his neighbors. Halloween came by and Gavin spent most of it swallowing his tongue at the sight of their costumes. Gavin felt a bit stupid next to them in his store bought wizard hat and long black cloak over a pair of jeans and shirt. Michael at least wasn’t as glamorous in his black cat costume but it fit him really, really well. Gavin could see every muscle Michael has, every curve and dip, as the black velvet clung to his body. A long black tail swung from his backside and on his head were two cat ears.

Lindsay had dressed as a Slytherin. She had the green scarf and wand she actually got from Universal Studios. She even wore the nerdy looking glasses. Gavin had to admit, her gray sweater looked really warm. Though he doubted she was as comfortable as she assured him she was with the short, short skirt she was wearing.

Meg absolutely stole the show though, with her Lara Croft outfit. Tight, brown short shorts with a cut off shirt that that showed off her stomach. Strapped to her thighs were realistic looking holsters. Meg showed them to Gavin earlier, explaining all the work she did to make sure they didn’t pinch into her skin. Gavin tried them out for himself. They were really comfortable. Her hair was pulled into a braid and black makeup was smudged along her skin and clothes to look like dirt. She looked perfect.

Geoff made fun of him for the amount of times he almost ran into a wall while looking at them.

Halloween passed and then it was November. Which meant Thanksgiving.

“Are you sure you can’t go?” Lindsay asked him again.

Gavin watched as her and Michael walked around packing their bags. They were going to New Jersey to visit Michael’s parents and planned to stay from Wednesday to Sunday. Meg was out of town for a convention and wouldn’t be able to make it. Gavin had politely declined, stating that he too would be out of town for a shoot.

Gavin shook his head, uncomfortably aware that he was sitting on their bed, surrounded by their stuff. “I couldn’t get out of this one.”

“What asshole makes people work through Thanksgiving?” Michael grumbled.

“He’s a very...particular client. Everything has to be done by a certain timeline.” Gavin gave them a sheepish smile.

“Well, we’re going to miss you.” Lindsay told him, giving him a swift kiss.

Gavin helped them into their cab and waved at them from his doorway, watching as they drove away.

Thanksgiving Day saw Gavin sitting on his couch, watching the parade. “I don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving.” Gavin told Smee, the cat laying next to him in order to receive pets.

Smee gave him an unimpressed look.

Gavin frowned back. “It’s too soon to meet their parents anyway. We’ve only been dating for...five months? Way too soon.”

Smee licked his paw.

“Besides, the two should have their time together. Alone. I’ve been coming over a lot. They’re probably glad to be going without me.”

Smee got up, stretched, then walked away.

Gavin just hummed, looking back at the T.V. and watched as a large Snowman floated down the street. He idly wondered what he would tell them when Christmas time came.

It turns out he didn’t have to come up with any excuse.

Gavin didn’t enjoy working in the cold (he was used to England winters, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it). The shoot he was on (an actual shoot this time) made him work through not only cold, but rain. A terrible combination.

Gavin arrived home with a red nose and sore muscles. He spent the next day in bed, with a fever. Distantly, he was aware of Lindsay, Meg, and Michael coming to visit him. Gavin sniffed and coughed at them and they feed him soup.

It was Michael visiting him now, putting a cool cloth on top of his forehead. Gavin shivered and burrowed himself deeper into his covers.

He thought he heard Michael sigh and say something about how this would be much easy if Gavin was at their house. But Gavin couldn’t be sure as he immediately fell asleep, soothed by the sound of Michael’s voice.

Spring came and things were still going great. January seemed to fly by. Gavin had a mini heart attack when he looked at the date and realized that it was February 13th.

They laughed anyway at the cheap chocolates he gave them. Especially when he combined it with a mashup video of all the places he had had filmed them at. Later that night, they enjoyed another dinner Michael had made. In between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, Gavin asked a question that he’s idly thought about. “Have you guys ever wanted to get married?”

That cause the three of them to pause. Meg finished swallowing her food before nodding. “I’d love to get married, if we’re ever allowed to. I even have the dress picked out.”

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “Do you really?”

Meg sniffed. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“Not really.” Lindsay replied. “I haven’t really thought about getting married. Not seriously anyways.”

“Same.” Michael said. “As soon as I knew I loved the both of you, getting married sort of went off the table. After meeting Gavin, that feeling doubled. I mean, gay marriage just got approved. Do you really think multiple marriage will happen in our lifetime?”

Meg sort of deflated at that. Gavin quickly said, “Maybe not in America but I’m certain some country will legalize it. Maybe England?”

“Ohhh, Gavvy, are you offering to marry us?” Michael teased, but there was an odd note to his voice.

Gavin looked down and picked at his food. “No. It’s not legal anyways.”

“What do you think of marriage?” Meg asked.

Gavin shrugged.. “My parent’s…it didn’t end well. I don’t have a very positive view on marriage.”

“Oh.”

They ate in silence for a second before Michael jumped into a ridiculous story about something stupid that happened at work.

With summer came Dan and work and Gavin celebrating one year being in love. Gavin knew it was coming, had saw them celebrating each other’s anniversary. But it still surprised him when they took him out to the movies and dinner. He got a kiss from each of them and a cake.

Gavin enjoyed the time he spent with them because, as with every summer, he got extremely busy again. Dan and him were in New York to meet with another director, sitting in the lobby of an expensive hotel, when Dan asked him, “So how is everything going in lover town?”

Gavin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Everythings fine. Meg’s lovely, Michael is a pain, and Lindsay is cute.”

Dan smiled at him. “Sounds like you're in love.”

Gavin looked back at him. “I really am.”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way.” Dan teased. Gavin stuck his tongue out at him. “But seriously, B, I’m happy for you.”

Gavin’s smile softened. “Hey thanks, B.”

There was silence for a second before Dan spoke again. “So when are you moving in?”

“Dan.”

“What? It has to be hard to constantly move back and forth between houses, even if you are neighbors. I suppose you can connect your house in some way but I don’t know how that would go over with the rest of the neighborhood.”

“I..haven’t thought about moving in.” Gavin said, looking down at his phone.

“Liar.”

“Dan.”

“Gavin, look. I know you. I’ve been your friend for years. I know how you think. You want to move in, you want to spend the rest of your life with them. But you don’t know how to ask and so then don’t.”

“I do not.”

Dan gave him a look. “Gavin, I once saw a girl flirt with you, give you all the clues that she wanted to hook up, maybe something more, and you completely missed it because you didn’t realize that was what she was doing and was too shy to ask.”

“That’s not-”

“Or how about the time a guy came up to you and asked for a date and you told him it was November 6?”

“You can not use-”

“Or how about that time with the chief?”

Gavin slumped into his seat. “So you what? Think I’m being childish?”

“No. I think you're just being Gavin.” Dan said. “They like you, and you like them. What’s so wrong with asking them about moving in?”

“I don’t know, B? Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“You’ve been dating for over a year. I don’t think it’s too soon to start at least talking to them about it. Just tell them you’ve been thinking about wanting to move in at some point. If they think it’s too soon, at least you have the conversation started and they know what you want.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Gavin grumbled.

“That’s because it is easy. Look, they can’t read your mind. What if they want you to move in but are waiting for you to say something?”

Gavin made a face at him. “When did you get so reasonable at dating stuff?”

“I’ve always been reasonable.” Dan said, sounding offended.

Gavin side-eyed him. “You once got drunk and ended up sleeping out in the lawn, where your girlfriend then had to drag you inside.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

“Once inside, you started crying and tried to break up with her because she had a Mr. Blobby mask sitting on the table left over from Halloween.”

“Like I said, sounds reasonable to me.”

Gavin took Dan’s advice to heart. Well, he did after agonizing over it for a good few days after getting back from the shoot. He finally mention it when playing games with Meg (both Lindsay and Michael were away at work).

“It would probably be easier if my game system was next to your game system, that way we don’t have to go back and forth with our games.”

“Totally.” Meg replied, not looking away from the screen.

Gavin felt like that was good enough.

Gavin was panicking. He was all smiles on the outside, but inside, he was full on freaking out. It was Thanksgiving again and there was no way Gavin was going to get out of meeting Meg and Lindsay’s parents.

It was going to be a two partner, apparently. Since both Lindsay’s and Meg’s family lived in Texas, so it would be easy to spend two days with Lindsay and then two days with Meg.

They were super sneaky about making sure Gavin was free. And by sneaky, he meant that they asked if he had shoots coming up and, because Gavin didn’t realize what month it was, he saw no need to lie.

Not even a perfectly reasonable “I don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving” can get him out of it.

So now Gavin had a couple of hours stuck in a car to dread about what could possibly happen. He wasn’t so worried about them not liking him as a fourth member of the relationship, he was sure if they were fine with their child dating two other people, one more wasn’t such a big deal. He did worry that they wouldn’t like him. Would they be ok with him? What if he offended them in some way?

But what Gavin was worried about the most was that this was all too soon. What would they think about bringing home a partner they’ve only been dating for a year?

But Gavin didn’t tell them that and instead just braced himself for bad outcomes.

Surprising (but probably only to Gavin) everything went well.

Lindsay’s parents were warm and positive and baked the best pie Gavin had ever had. They welcomed him home with open arms.

Meg’s family was intense. She had a lot of siblings and her parents practically grilled him about what he did, but in the end they invited him to join in on some family games and Gavin left feeling welcomed.

Gavin was...happy he went. And he could tell that the others were happy he was accepted too. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he wasn’t being stupid about the too early thing.

For the first time in forever, Gavin thought about what it would be like if he brought someone home to England.

The Christmas tree was set up in the corner of the living room and Gavin was dragged into decorating it. They hung tinsel up everywhere and Lindsay seemed to want a snowman every five feet.

Gavin loved it.

There was something so nice about watching Michael squeeze everyone’s faces as he kissed them before starting to complain that it looked like Santa threw up in here. Meg would laugh and say that they haven’t even gone through half the decorations and Lindsay would pull out another endless string of lights.

At some point, Gavin knew they would bake cookies and try to build a gingerbread house. And later they would watch Christmas movies and Meg and Lindsay would try to put a Christmas hat on Smee while Michael yells at them and Gavin films it.

It was a happy time. It filled Gavin with all sort of feelings.

Gavin knows he can be oblivious sometimes. He’s been told that plenty by Dan. Geoff would roll his eyes when saying it and Burnie always laughed at him.

But it still came as a complete shock to Gavin one fine March day when Michael came up to him, while they were at Gavin’s house, frowning. “So are we just not dropping enough hints or are you a complete moron?”

“Michael, why are you always so mean to me, Michael?” Gavin whined, though he took no actual offense.

Michael rolled his eyes but bent down to help Gavin, picking up the other side of a heavy camera case so they could put it away in Gavin’s closet. “I’m only mean because you ask for it. But seriously, what’s it going to take?”

“What are you talking about?” Gavin asked.

“About us wanting you to move in.”

Gavin almost dropped the case. Michael cursed. “What the fuck, Gavin? Are you trying to fuck up my foot or something?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Gavin quickly picked up the slack. As soon as they put the case away, Gavin turned towards Michael. “Wait? You what?”

“We. Want. You.” Michael gestured between Gavin and himself and Gavin scowled at him. “To move in. With. Us.”

“Thank you, I can hear.”

“So?” Michael said, crossing his arms. His foot started tapping against the ground.

Gavin bit his lip. “You guys really want me to move in?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if we didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“After nearly two years? No?” Michael frowned. “If you don’t want to move in with us, just say so.”

“I do!” Gavin blurted out. He started fidgeting with his hands. “I do, I want to move in with you guys.”

Michael grabbed his hands. “Gavin, do you want to move in with us?”

Gavin took a deep breath, then looked up and into Michael’s eyes. “Yes. I want to move in with you.”

A slow smile began to spread across Michael’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

Later, lying in their bed, Gavin would laugh and mention that he thought he had dropped hints about moving in.

All three of them looked at him with confused looks. “When?” Meg asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have picked that up.” Lindsay chimed in.

“W-w-with you.” Gavin said, pointing at Meg. He had to half-sit up in bed to be able to do it, but he did. “I mentioned it when we were gaming.”

Meg’s eyebrows went nearly into her hair. “That was your hint? Mentioning it once when we were gaming?”

“Yeah!”

Michael just shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What? What?”

It took three days to move all of Gavin’s stuff to their house. Gavin won’t sell his house for another year (it’s a source of many arguments but ultimately they know it isn’t him having a backup just incase things go south-he’s just too lazy to get to it).

Two days after agreeing to move in, Gavin calls up Dan to talk about their agreement. Dan can still stay in Gavin’s old house during the summers until Gavin sells it. They all agree it’ll be pretty useful to have someone there to keep the house in good condition.

Dan is smug the entire time they talk. Gavin lets him be, because, well he deserved it.

At the end of it Dan tells him “I told you so.”

Gavin sighs. “I know, B.”

“You could have done this like a year ago.”

“I know Dan.”

A pause.

“Hey, Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you.”

Gavin smiles. “Thanks B.”

Gavin almost feels natural in their house. Sure, he’s been spending a good amount of time there since they started dating, but still. He woke up now in his bed, and ate food at his table, and played games on his T.V.

Their house had become his. Gavin loves it.

He loves how Lindsay and he will fight for coffee as they leave for work, how Michael is yelling at them as he cooks them breakfast, and how Meg comes down to complain about them waking her up.

He loves how one of them will knock on the door to his office, making sure Gavin took some breaks while he working.

He loved surprising them with gifts, loves going to Michael’s work to give him food (it was shitty compared to what Michael could make but he figured he should return the favor), loves helping Meg with her cosplays.

Gavin loves being with them. And he knows they love him.

Gavin is nervous as he waits in front of the putt putt golf area. It’s his two year anniversary. The rest of them were on their way, Meg and Lindsay were picking Michael up from work. After golfing, they figured they could move on to go-kart racing. Or maybe ice-cream. They haven’t really decided.

Gavin checks his watch. He looks down at the little box he had in his hand. Then back up, smiling as Lindsay waved at him from where they were walking down the sidewalk. Gavin meets them halfway.

He gives all three a kiss on the cheek. Meg kisses back but her eyes are glued to the box. “What’s this? You got us something?”

“Yeah.” He practically pushes the box into her hands.

Meg raises an eyebrow but opens it anyways. As soon as she looks inside, she bursts out giggling before showing Michael and Lindsay. Lindsay starts laughing too. Michael shouts “What the fuck, Gavin?” but he’s also smiling.

The box was filled with sugar. Gavin took the box back, shaking it a bit as he began to explain. “So I know I’m not the best at commitment and I have a hard time...expressing myself and putting myself out there. And I’m sure you know my problems with meeting...parents.”

“You mean the time you lied to us to get out of meeting my parents?” Michael asked.

Gavin winced. “You know about that, huh?”

“It wasn’t very hard to figure out. Elyse mentioned that she was surprised we didn’t take you and then told us that you had been home all week.”

“Yeah, well, ok. So I have a thing about parents.” Gavin mumbled. He shifted the sugar around some more. “So yeah. I thought this would be a good...surprise.”

“Surprise.” He lifted the box up. Beneath the sugar were a couple piece of paper.

Delicately, Meg pulled them out. “Plane..tickets?”

Gavin nodded. “To England. If you would like, would you like to meet my mom?”

They meet his mom. She loves them. They love her.

Gavin is happy.

#mavinseg #neighbors au #i don't know how to eel about this one #i love the first half #but don't know how to feel about the second half #but i hope everyone else enjoys it

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ghostlypeachkryptonite · 5 years

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The schedule is probably the one thing that everyone struggles with, and I’m not going to lie, it is hard when you work from home. But once you can crack your schedule, there is nothing that you can’t do. A while ago, I heard a saying that made my blood boil, “you have the same hours in the day as Beyonce”. Yeah, we know, but I’m pretty sure that Beyonce had one hell of a hustle on her hands at the start of her career too. We are so quick to put people down because we compare ourselves to celebrities and successful people who are further ahead on their success journey than we are.

Because we live in a world where money is needed to survive, Latte Lindsay runs a number of affiliate programmes and offers paid/sponsored content. If you choose to click the links and read the posts, the site may earn a commission or receives a payment. All of the opinions are my own. Opinions expressed here are author’s alone, not those of any partner brands/company(s), beauty & lifestyle brands, airlines or hotel chain, and have not been reviewed, approved or otherwise endorsed by any of these entities unless specified.

Let’s break the schedule down

First of all, you should be getting around 8 hours of sleep. This is non-negotiable because it is for your long-term health. Getting enough sleep at night is one of the foundations for success and I don’t want to hear otherwise. Yes, there are people who claim that they only sleep for a few hours before they get up and start working their butts off, but this is going to damage their mental and neuro health in the long term. As much as we all want to succeed, I still want to have my brain intact when I’m in my 80’s and 90’s, not suffering from dementia which has been linked to a lack of sleep in your 20’s, 30’s and 40’s.

Second, let’s say you should be doing around 8 hours of work a day, five or six days a week. This is where it can get tough for some people because they work full time and they want to overextend themselves. Do not worry about it. If you are working 8 hours or more on your full-time job, then taking 8 hours to work with intention on your day off will give you much better results than trying to push through the tiredness. I know it is tempting to work into the small hours of the morning to be part of the hustle porn community, but it isn’t worth it. I’ve done the hustle until 3 am, cramming everything in, typed until my fingers have gone numb. Do you know where it got me? Nowhere. I was tired and burnt out from it. If you work full time, choose one day a week to really focus on your own stuff and then take one day off to relax.

My third point is about learning. Learning can be done in an hour a day if you study with intention. They say that it takes 10,000 hours to master a skill but this is rubbish. It can take as little as 20 hours to master something if you can push through the initial frustration that comes with learning something new. Learning can be done in so many different ways, there are plenty of free ways to get bite size knowledge to help you and your business to grow. You might scoff at the idea of having to study a little bit every day but this is where most people fall down.

The number four thing that you need to schedule in every day is some self-care. Self-care is something that I am really passionate about. When I was a care worker, I saw first hand the problems that people faced as a result of not looking after themselves properly. I like to take an hour a day to get a shower in peace, fresh clothes, a cup of tea with some quiet time before I have to get the troops out of bed. But I also like to take an hour at night to relax and unwind before I go to sleep.

Number five is keeping the house clean. Within my schedule, I have around 3-4 hours for cleaning, doing laundry, and general maintenance of the house so it doesn’t look like I’m constantly in the middle of an exorcism with an asshole of a poltergeist. A clean house is important when you work from home because having a clear space helps prevent distractions. Plus, having a clean house as a parent is one of those ultimate goals that we wish we could have, why not blow everyone out of the water by actually doing it?

And finally, the kids. I have worked out a schedule for my kids so that they know exactly what is going on. They get bathed, fed, clean clothes. My toddler spends all day with me so I make sure that there is plenty for him to do. When it comes to me sitting working, I keep him in the room with me and give him attention when he needs it. When the older ones are at home, they all play together. I know a lot of women experience mom guilt when it comes to working and not dedicating their every waking minute to their kids, but don’t. In fact, you could use your work to your advantage and get the kids involved. I hand mine dusters so they can “clean” with me. When I am learning something, I get my babies involved because their little brains are like sponges and you never know what information they might pick up. When I am writing, I talk out loud and write things back to them to help encourage their vocabulary. Use what you do as a good foundation for life skills that they can use themselves as adults.

My weekday schedule

5am- Get up and have some time to myself to get showered and organised. I have a beauty routine that I like to do every day that makes me feel like a million quid. 6am- Start work. This might be answering emails or checking what I have planned on my to-do list. Or, if I’m feeling brave, I’ll get stuck in with a few hundred words for one of my books. 7am- Get the kids up and ready. This means showers, breakfasts, getting packed lunches sorted…..everything you could possibly think of for getting little ones ready for the day ahead. Even if it is the weekend, my little ones will be up early anyway (they have no concept of time and lack the ability to lie in). 8am- Multi tasking hour- This is the hour of the day that I have a bit of everything going on. I’m finishing getting the kids ready, having a quick tidy and opening curtains back, making lunches, throwing stuff in the dishwasher, and doing the school run. 9am- Normally by this time, I’m back in the house and I get cracking on whatever book I’m working on. Sometimes I am dealing with my editors and making changes to drafts, other times I am cracking away at the word count. 10am- Cleaning the house. After an hour of work, I stop typing and clean the house for an hour. This can be running the hoover over the floors, making the beds, and dusting the furniture. I also like to get the dinner prepared at this time so there are no excuses later in the day that result in a takeaway having to be ordered. 11am- Now I switch back to work mode and do some work on the blog. I might have a sponsored post that needs to be done or I get try and get ahead of myself with blog posts for the week or month. 12pm- Food and tidying up the house. I need to eat a lunch, and so do you. It is important to stop and take a break during the day for a meal. For around 30 minutes, I sit and have a meal without my phone, laptop or TV distracting me. And after I have eaten, I give the kitchen a quick tidy and clear up any mess that I have made. If the kids are in the house, they get fed at this time too. 1pm- Back to the blog- This is another chance to get some more blog posts scheduled for the week or month ahead. 2pm- Social media, promotional work and the school run is the name of the game at this time of the day. A lot of this is probably considered “busy work” that should probably be done by an assistant but I really enjoy doing this stuff myself. 3pm- Book time again. After going back and forth, different ideas can stew and mature in your head so I find breaking it up can really help, especially if you want to avoid writer’s block. 4pm- Ironing– Clothes get washed and then they need ironed. This is a great time for me to listen to an audiobook or a podcast. 5pm- Cooking and dinner time. Because I prep dinner early in the day, it is normally a case of turning some dials and pushing buttons. 6pm- Book time, and this is the last chance I have to work on a book in the day. 7pm- Kids bedtime routine. It’s bath time, into pj’s and snuggles with a story for the little ones. I can have this done within an hour so the kids are tucked up in bed for 8pm. 8pm- Me time hour- This is hour of the day when I get into my comfy clothes, maybe have a bath, I read or do something crafty like knit. Personally, I like to read most nights, maybe around 5 nights a week and then spend the other two knitting or cross stitching. 9pm- Sleep. Yep, it’s time for some shut eye and if I get into bed now and sleep, I get a full 8 hours.

Is this set in stone? No, I try to be flexible because there are days that other stuff needs to happen. One morning a week I schedule in appointments and pick up the food shopping. My weekends are kind of similar but I cut down on the cleaning and workload to spend time with my family, maybe an hour of cleaning and an hour of work at the most. The purpose of the weekday schedule is to make sure I have time to spend with my family at the weekends.

How to create your own schedule

Building your own schedule is one of the simplest yet most effective things that you can do to make your day easier. Think of it this way, when you where at school, you had a timetable of classes and things that you need to do during the school day. Some days there could be around 7 different subjects that you needed to turn your attention to, and for around 12 years you managed to study a variety of different things within 6 hours. Imagine what you could achieve if you sectioned your adult life like this. Work out what you want to do in the day. These will be unique to you. Use the circles below to work out the first part. I recommend making sure that you get 8 hours of sleep, 1 hour of self-care for a shower and a cup of tea.

Ok, I get that the pictures are not my best artwork, but that is how I sat and worked out my day and what needed to be done. Do not be afraid of being picky about what you do and how you work out your day, it should be work for you and your family to get the best out of your time.

What do you think of the schedule? Would you ever try anything as extreme as this? Let me know what your day looks like in the comments section.

The Ultimate Schedule for Working from Home The schedule is probably the one thing that everyone struggles with, and I’m not going to lie, it is hard when you work from home.

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smokeybrandcompositions · 6 years

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Evolution

I just read an article about how Americans don’t want socialism. That the trappings and failures of capitalism are far and away better than anything Socialism can bring to a country. Tell that bullsh*t to those Nordic countries. I concede that communism is designed to crate dictators; anytime to coalesce that much power into one person, there’s a problem, but socialism is different than communism and most people don’t understand that. Especially in America where anytime you mention anything with any semblance of sharing, it’s a goddamn fight. The thing is, though, we already have socialist policies. What the f*ck do you think Social Security is? I mean, it’s in the f*cking name! Beyond that, whenever there is a deficit or something in the budget, what’s the first thing the cut? Social Security! So, I mean, Socialism is bad, right? But it’s always used to bail us out though, right? So, which one is it then?

This article used examples like Venezuela and Russia to articulate their reticence but, I mean, of course they would. The thing that really got me was, immediately after this, they f*cking said it was because of corruption that these “socialist” governments failed. Bro, corruption ruins everything. By definition, that’s what it does. Venezuela is failing because the people in charge have no accountability and hoarded the country’s wealth. Same thing with Russia, but to a lesser extent. Their money was charred around by a set of oligarchs, funneling the scraps to the people. With a cat like Putin in charge, of course Socialism isn’t going to work. Dude is all about consolidating power and wealth is power there. Another failure cats like to throw in my face is Cuba. See, the thing about Cuba is, if they haven’t had all of those sanctions imposed by America on them for 60 f*cking years, Cuba would be a legit paradise. Cuba has some of the highest level of literacy in the world and they get that schooling for free. They have some of the best doctors in the world. The only reason their country is in such bad shape is because NATO decided their regime was toxic and blocked trade for decades. Cuba is an island. It has finite resources. They NEED that trade to survive. DO you honestly believe that, if Cube had the means to feed their people with traded goods, people would want to flee? I dunno, man, Havana is gorgeous.

But, okay, let’s say those examples are the worst, that Socialism failed miserably because it doesn’t work there. With dictators at the helm. What happens when you have elected officials running a country with checks and balances to the social programs? You get f*cking Denmark. You get f*cking Sweden. You get f*cking Amsterdam and Scandinavia. You get literally the happiest countries in the world. Let’s look at Denmark a little closer because I just read an article about them trying to debunk their $20.00 an hour minimum wage and it didn’t do them any favors. Sure, it’s a little expensive to live there but, with those taxes they pay, Denmark residents don’t really have to pay for anything but f*cking food. The effective buying power of that 20 bux is roughly 11.50 in real time but they have free education, healthcare, and daycare. So that right there cuts out student loan payments, exorbitant child care costs, and any ludicrous medical bills you may have to pay. That frees up a MASSIVE amount of capital for you to do whatever with. Seriously, you’d have a bout a grand extra, every month, to do what you need to do with. On minimum wage. Minimum. Wage. They have one of the healthiest economies in the world so there’s a good chance you’d make more than that, easy, especially if you graduate from a free college. You’re instantly pressed into the workforce in your major upon graduation and serve a 4-year term, for the government, in your field. Afterward, you’re free to leave or continue with that gig. So not only did you get a free education, they got you a paying job in your field, not an internship, fresh out of college. And it gets even better. Since the clear majority of Denmark citizens have a higher degree, there’s much less crime. The Nordic countries are some of the safest in the world. I wonder why? It’s almost as if economic imposed poverty breeds criminal activity or something. When you have less of that, you have less crime. Who’d have thought?

Democratic Socialism works. If some asshole isn’t in the big chair as we run that system, we’ll be fine. We’ll probably be great. Every time socialism fails, it’s because of a dick. Like the one sitting in the big chair now. Trump is actively ruining America. His is the most corrupt administration since Nixon, on both a national and private level. Everything he’s done has bolstered his brand and tanked the country. Seriously, how are we any better now, than W? How is the country in any better position, globally, than under Obama? He’s getting played by North Korea. He just publicly kissed Putin’s ring and lied about it. I’ve literally heard this man say, “Don’t trust what you see or read in the news.” Bro, what? That sh*t is textbook Nazism. It’s how you create dictators. It’s how Putin runs his whole system. The installation of mistrust in free media is how it always starts and you’re telling me Socialism is a problem? That Democratic Socialism will be the end of America as we know it? Nah, our county is already in decline and it’s not even a socialist has nothing to do with it. It’s this god-awful capitalism that has us to the brink. Wage disparity has never been higher. 80 percent of the GDP is being pocketed by, like, 20 people. Contrary to Gordon Gecko’s mantra, Greed is, in fact, NOT good! Crime is insane and literacy is down historic levels. Crime is insane BECAUSE literacy is down historic levels! Cats are out here turning on each other over dumb sh*t like race, politics, and religion, instead of uniting against the forces that have very real ill intent; the mother*ckers that are making the laws taking away your rights and protections.

America has an aversion to Socialism because the powers that be have orchestrated one of the most insidious propaganda initiatives I have ever seen. They hammered the red scare into our grand-parents, who fed that sh*t to our parents, who have distilled it into us. The thing is, though, we as the next generation have had access to information that the others have not. Propaganda like that doesn’t work on someone who understands haw to think. Most cats with a reason and common sense can see the way things are now, can’t be sustained. Why not give socialism a hot? But the intricate social engineering that has been enacted for decades has it’s claws in enough of this country’s people that making headway is nigh impossible. Abortion has nothing to do with government or religion. A chick has the right to do with her body, whatever she wants because it’s her body. If she doesn’t want to carry a tumor in her womb to term, that’s her business, not the f*cking senate, president, or Supreme Court judge. No one is coming to take your guns away if there ever is reform. What the f*ck do you need an AR-15 for anyway? It’s an assault rifle. Assault. It’s designed to take as many human lives away as possible because it’s a tool of war. You expecting war, my man? A two-party political system and the electoral college are tools created to perpetuate a false narrative that keeps us Pigeon hold to a corrupt system who’s only interest is to pocket as much wealth as possible, not move the country forward in the people’s interest. Competition is the mother of innovation so why is it there are only two options who, more and more, look the same? Capitalism doesn’t work in the way it should because the people in charge are assholes who kowtow to massive private interests and conglomerates. America is strong enough to secure itself, protect its national interests, and supply free education, healthcare, and a decent living wage without batting an eye. California, alone, is the 6th largest economy IN THE WORLD and we have 49 other states and a handful of territories that contribute as well. How is it we’re first in crime, last in education, and running point in wealth disparity again?

Its obvious capitalism isn’t working the way it should anymore. I think it’s because society has evolved beyond its principals. I think my generation is more interested in advancing society, not nationalism and I think the generations before us, the Baby Boomers and backward, are terrified of this change. They’ve been suckling at the teat of the all-knowing government machine since their youth and it terrifies them that the faith they gave to the watchers, has not been upheld. Trump feels like a panic play before the real wave of change hits. We’re already seeing it. Puerto Rican ma out in New York beat a 20- year Democratic incumbent. She’s democratic socialist and is very vocal about her views. We got a 24-year-old out in West Virginia running on an identical platform and he’s beating out a millionaire Republican. Bernie Sanders was a DNC sabotage away from being the Democratic nominee for president, and he was beating everyone in the field by double digit points! Hell, record numbers of cats 30 and younger have registered the vote in Florid for the first time in forever. You think those kids are going to follow the national trends? Millennials terrify the establishment because we hate the establishment. We see how terrible it is. We live how terrible it is. We have had access to other forms of government our entire lives. The globalization of the world and the fact that I can get instant information on my phone has given us a means to usurp the blind patriotism generations before us held dear. WE know America isn’t the greatest country in the world. There are facts that back that up. But it can be. And it starts with a vote toward universal healthcare. It stars with gun reform. It starts with a flat tax rate and government supplemented college tuition. It starts with a form on socialism that is both sustainable and realistic; a model that Denmark has followed for decades.

It starts with us.

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redlipsfortheguillotine · 6 years

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Dr Took My Appendix or: How I Learned to Stop Searching and Love the Iron, Part II

Part II Appendixgate

Now I’m not someone who believes things happen for a reason. Not at all. I think things happen, some of which as a result of our own actions, for better or worse, some as a result of the actions of others, and some just randomly. But I think every time something happens, we have choices. Bad breakup, fail an exam, have a drinking problem, get robbed, anything really – we choose what to do with it, if we can. Sort of like when people say depression happens for a reason. Yeah, the reason is usually being born with mental illness, developing them in life or as a result of another illness, medication etc. It’s not that deep, and it’s a shitty deal. Likewise, I believe freak medical emergencies happen for the reason that, well, they just do. Disease, accident or in this case, standard appendix ticking time bomb gone awry.

On July 31st I went to bed feeling totally fine. Well, still bored and insufferable. But fine. August 1st, I woke up at 4am with stabbing pains in my gut. Sort of similar at that point to the pain you get when you have food poisoning or a bad GI bug. I got up, had some quick and horrendous toilet action, and couldn’t get back to sleep. I called in sick to my practicum (which I only did because I couldn’t stand up straight because of the pain). Mid morning, I took a taxi to the ER, because it was much worse. Appendicitis vaguely occurred to me since right lower quadrant pain is a hallmark of the condition. I was given an ultrasound by the bedside – note, bedside ultrasounds are less reliable, and ultrasounds in general are unreliable when performed on someone with abdominal fat as the visibility is bad. The Dr said it “probably” wasn’t appendicitis so he wasn’t going to do a CT, and that it would either get better or worse. He said he’d get me some Advil (seriously, on behalf of the entire medical establishment I’m sorry we think an Advil is helpful for anything that brought you to the ER). He forgot, and I went home. I took Advil every 4 hours, which took the pain from a 9 down to a 7, so that was the routine. My pain level of 10 up to this point in my life was my first IUD insertion about 9 years ago, just for reference. At this point my practicum instructor called me and reassured me that when I got in on Tuesday we’d sort out a way for her to test my skills and we’d figure out the missed hours.

On August 2nd, I woke up feeling still shitty, but hoped I could get a lost of rest. Around lunchtime I started feeling a bit weird and nauseous. I turned off the fan and curled up on the couch with a blanket. I was freezing, which is obvs weird as I am always sweaty. Suddenly I realized I was going to puke, and walked to the bathroom, noting that I was walking into furniture on the way. I went to throw up, didn’t, and sat down on the bathroom floor. I noticed my toes and feet were super pale and blueish, stood up and saw my face was too, and my lips were purple. Now I may just be in the beginning of LPN school but I know that these are bad things. I said out loud to my reflection, “this is bad, I’m scared.” Then I stumbled on back to the living room to call my mum, and as I leaned over the couch my fingers smartly dialed 911. I explained my situation and was told not to eat or drink in case I threw up, and that there were no ambulances available but they’d send one when they had one. Yeah. That’s a thing. Probably worth its own blog post. I took my temp which was 38.5, so that got me thinking, well maybe this IS appendicitis. But what’s with the weird feeling? I called my mum, who called Al on her cell while talking to me on her house phone (and tried at one point to put the phones together so Al and I could hear each other – useless, but cute!). I asked her to help me time my pulse, which I discovered was 160. Um, shit, I thought. It’s normally 76, so this is an issue.

55 minutes later the ambulance showed up, at the same time as Allan arrived from work. I got into the bus and the paramedic and I agreed that I was super sweaty, and my pulse was nuts. I told him the Dr had said maybe it was the stomach flu, and he gave me the paramedic face that says “this is definitely not the stomach flu it’s obviously an infection but I don’t diagnosis so I’m not saying that.” Got to the ER, where we all learned together that getting an IV into a sweaty arm is very hard. No IV Gravol for me! A bed became available, and as soon as I stood up nausea gave way to me telling the paramedic I needed to poop. Yep that’s what I said, at age 34 to a paramedic “I need to poop.” Allan came in with me to make sure I didn’t pass out, and then we both quickly decided we weren’t ready for same room pooping, so he stood outside. While, I might add, another patient screamed that she was dying. Hospitals are awesome. Anyway, I got to the bed, and thankfully saw a smart and pro Dr, who said “this is going to hurt,” poked me in the gut hard and whipped his hand away. (Rebound pain is a fairly definitive mark of appendicitis, it’s the removal of pressure that really hurts). I scream-moaned and he said “K! Appendicitis I think, let’s get you some morphine and a CT scan.” Morphine is awesome, just for the record, and I went from pain that was now a 10 to a nice fuzzy 5. The CT showed my appendix was 3 times its normal size, with probable fluid collection which could indicate rupture, and p.s. I have 3 accessory spleens (called splenules!) that are maybe useful and probably cute. Got scheduled for emergency surgery 45 minutes later.

Woke up and discovered what a 10 on the pain scale REALLY feels like. Yuck. What I thought was 15 minutes in the recovery room was actually 2 hours of Al feeding me ice chips until they could get my pain down. Two 5mg doses of fentanyl later and a lot more ice chips (and Allan asking me questions about North Korea for his own amusement) and I got wheeled to my room. Nb: fentanyl gets shit-talked but medically it’s epic, it’s just only great in a medically supervised environment where you can be reminded to breathe and the dose is exact. Though you’ll do stuff like text your friend and have no recollection of doing so. But I digress. I soon discovered I had a drain extending from my belly, to collect what was in fact a ton of fluid from the ruptured appendix and the large abscess that caused said rupture. The next couple of days involved a lot of pain (a new 10! Post surgical pain after fentanyl wears off), a lot of Dilaudid (aka hydromorphone - also gets shit-talked, also great in a medical setting), a bunch of crying, me trying to convince my surgeon that I had to get out and go to my practicum, and a lot of help from nurses, my mum and my husband. We nurses are obsessed with whether post-surgical patients are passing gas. This is because we need to ensure bowel paralysis is not an issue. No exception here, I had someone asked me if I had passed gas every couple of hours. All I wanted to do was lie in bed, but I know walking helps gas passing, and I now completely understand how hard it is to get post-surgical patients to walk around. But I did. I’d walk up and down the hallway with Allan and my IV pole as support, ensuring my drain was securely pinned to my gown so it didn’t pull on that incision. I had low BP so lots of potassium IV, I had about 5 bags of IV antibiotics a day, and Heparin shots to prevent blood clots. On the day I was released I had my surgical drain removed. This involves a friendly nurse pulling a couple of feet of tubing out of you, followed by a 12-inch piece of plastic, while you make alien noises and try to breathe out enough for your ab muscles to stop trying to pull the tubing back in. You guessed it – new 10 on the pain scale. Luckily, I can’t remember that pain, cause my mind was like NOPE block that shit out. I got home, and thank Odin for Allan, who fed me healthy food and toweled me off after showers (and made fun of me for making him carefully dry between my toes), gave me meds because I was too high to correctly dose myself, and carried my pillows to and from the couch/bed every day. It took about 3 weeks of inactivity and my formerly unshakable quad muscles atrophied to nothing.

For the first time in my life, I felt an overwhelming need to go to the gym. More specifically, I wanted to lift weights. I felt weak. After surgery, the drain and what turned out to be sepsis, I was wrecked (thank you Dr idiot for sending me home instead of getting me a CT scan, thank you me for following my intuition when I knew there that my body was screaming at me that something really bad was happening). I’m fine, but sepsis kills people, and as I know now it takes about a month to recover from. Then some recovery from all the antibiotics themselves. But honestly, I’m so grateful for antibiotics and for the paramedics and for that second Dr for quickly and correctly diagnosing me. I could have done without knowing what sepsis felt like but I’m glad I now do, for my own benefit and the benefit of my future patients. I went through a lot of feelings (even more than usual!) over those weeks, from being angry I couldn’t finish my practicum or continue onto the next term with my friends, to feeling lucky to be alive, from feeling good that I had a break from the school work I had not been handling well. Eventually, I settled somewhere in between all of those feelings. I enjoyed the food Al made for me (including actual vegetables for the first time in months). I gave up coffee, which my Dr had been suggesting for oh, several years. (I suggest trying to quit coffee while immobile, without responsibility, and hopped up on drugs, it’s much easier). I watched several seasons of RuPauls’ Drag Race, and eventually, I started watching CrossFit documentaries on Netflix. This was the first sign that something was very different. I was choosing to watch fit people on tv, and I wasn’t crying that I was out of shape and they were better than me – I was feeling inspired. Needless to say, I’m not sure if I found it stranger or if Allan did, but it was clear that post-surgery Rachel was perhaps some sort of Rachel 2.0.

Part III coming soon

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lesbianrewrites · 7 years

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The Martian Chapter 2

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

LOG ENTRY: SOL 7

CHAPTER II

Ok, I’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.

Today I took stock of supplies, and did a quick EVA to check up on the external equipment. Here’s my situation:

The surface mission was supposed to be 31 days. For redundancy, the supply probes had enough food to last the whole crew 56 days. That way if one or two probes had problems, we'd still have enough food to complete the mission.

We were six days in when all hell broke loose, so that leaves enough food to feed six people for 50 days. I’m just one girl, so it’ll last me 300 days. And that’s if I don’t ration it. So I’ve got a fair bit of time.

The Hab stood up to the storm without any problems. Outside, things aren’t so rosy. I can’t find the satellite dish; it probably got blown kilometers away.

The MAV is gone, of course. My crewmates took it up to Hermes. Though the bottom half (the landing stage) is still there. No reason to take that back up when weight is the enemy. It includes the landing gear, the fuel plant, and anything else NASA figured it wouldn’t need for the trip back up to orbit.

The MDV is on its side and there’s a breach in the hull. Looks like the storm ripped the cowling off the reserve chute (which we didn’t have to use on landing). Once the chute was exposed it dragged the MDV all over the place, smashing it against every rock in the area. Not that the MDV would be much use to me. Its thrusters can’t even lift its own weight. But it might have been valuable for parts. Might still be.

Both rovers are half-buried in sand, but they’re in good shape otherwise. Their pressure seals are in-tact. Makes sense. Operating procedure if a storm hits is to stop motion and wait for the storm to pass. They’re made to stand up to punishment. I’ll be able to dig them out with a day or so of work.

I’ve lost communication with the weather stations, placed a kilometer away from the Hab in 4 directions. They might be in perfect working order for all I know. The Hab’s communications are so weak right now it probably can’t even reach a kilometer.

The solar cell array was covered it in sand, rendering it useless (hint: solar cells need sunlight to make electricity). But once I swept them off, they returned to full efficiency. Whatever I end up doing, I’ll have plenty of power for it. 200 square meters of solar cells, with hydrogen fuel cells to store plenty of reserve. All I need to do is sweep them off every few days.

Things indoors are great, thanks to the Hab’s sturdy design.

I ran a full diagnostic on the Oxygenator. Twice. It’s perfect. If anything goes wrong with it, there is a short-term spare I can use. But it’s solely for emergency use while repairing the main one. The spare doesn’t actually pull CO2 apart and recapture the oxygen. It just absorbs the CO2 the same way the spacesuits do. It’s intended to last 5 days before it saturates the filters, which means 30 days for me (just one person breathing, instead of six). So there’s some insurance there.

The Water Reclaimer is working fine, too. The bad news is there’s no backup. If it stops working, I’ll be drinking reserve water while I rig up a primitive distillery to boil piss. Also, I’ll lose half a liter of water per day to breathing until the humidity in the Hab reaches its maximum and water starts condensing on every surface. Then I’ll be licking the walls. Yay. Anyway, for now, no problems with the Water Reclaimer.

So yeah. Food, water, shelter all taken care of. I’m going to start rationing food right now. Meals are pretty minimal already, but I think I can eat a 3/4 portion per meal and still be all right. That should turn my 300 days of food in to 400. Foraging around the medical area, I found the main bottle of vitamins. There’s enough multivitamins there to last years. So I won’t have any nutritional problems (though I’ll still starve to death when I’m out of food, no matter how many vitamins I take).

The medical area has morphine for emergencies. And there’s enough there for a lethal dose. I’m not going to slowly starve to death, I’ll tell you that. If I get to that point, I’ll take an easier way out.

Everyone on the mission had two specialties. I’m a botanist and mechanical engineer. Basically, I was the mission’s fix-it man who played with plants. The mechanical engineering might save my life if something breaks.

I’ve been thinking about how to survive this. It’s not completely hopeless. There’ll be humans back on Mars in about four years when Ares 4 arrives (assuming they didn’t cancel the program in the wake of my “death”).

Ares 4 will be landing at the Schiaparelli Crater, which is about 3,200km away from my location here in the Acidalia Planitia. No way for me to get there on my own. But if I could communicate, I might be able to get a rescue. Not sure how they’d manage that with the resources on hand, but NASA has a lot of smart people.

So that’s my mission now. Find a way to communicate with Earth. If I can’t manage that, find a way to communicate with Hermes when it returns in 4 years with the Ares 4 crew.

Of course, I don’t have any plan for surviving 4 years on 1 year of food. But one thing at a time here. For now, I’m well fed and have a purpose: “Fix the damn radio”.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 10

Well, I’ve done three EVAs and haven’t found any hint of the communication dish

I dug out one of the rovers and had a good drive around, but after days of wandering I think it’s time to give up. The storm probably blew the dish far away and then erased any drag-marks or scuffs that might have led to a trail. Probably buried it, too.

I spent most of today out at what’s left of the communication array. It’s really a sorry sight. I may as well yell toward Earth for all the good that damned thing will do me.

I could throw together a rudimentary dish out of metal I find around the base, but this isn’t some walkie-talkie I’m working with here. Communicating from Mars to Earth is a pretty big deal, and requires extremely specialized equipment. I won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.

I need to ration my EVAs as well as food. The CO2 filters are not cleanable. Once they’re saturated, they’re done. The mission accounted for a 4-hour EVA per crewmember per day. Fortunately, CO2 filters are light and small so NASA had the luxury of sending more than we needed. All told, I have about 1500 hours worth of CO2 filters. After that, any EVAs I do will have to be managed with bloodletting the air.

1500 hours may sound like a lot, but I’m faced with spending at least 4 years here if I’m going to have any hope of rescue, with a minimum of several hours per week dedicated to sweeping off the solar array. Anyway. No needless EVAs.

In other news, I’m starting to come up with an idea for food. My botany background may come in useful after all.

Why bring a botanist to Mars? After all, it’s famous for not having anything growing here. Well, the idea was to figure out how well things grow in Martian gravity, and see what, if anything, we can do with Martian soil. The short answer is: quite a lot… almost. Martian soil has the basic building blocks needed for plant growth, but there’s a lot of stuff going on in Earth soil that Mars soil doesn’t have, even when it’s placed in an Earth-atmosphere and given plenty of water. Bacterial activity, certain nutrients provided by animal life, etc. None of that is happening on Mars. One of my tasks for the mission was to see how plants grow here, in various combinations of Earth or Mars soil and atmosphere.

That’s why I have a small amount of Earth soil and a bunch of plant seeds with me.

I can’t get too excited, however. It’s about the amount of soil you’d put in a window planter-box, and the only seeds I have are a few species of grass and ferns. They’re the most rugged and easily grown plants on earth, so NASA picked them as the test subjects.

So I have two problems: not enough dirt, and nothing edible to plant in it.

But I’m a botanist, damn it. I should be able to find a way to make this happen. If I don’t, I’ll be a really hungry botanist in about a year.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 11

I wonder how the Cubs are doing.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 14

I got my undergrad degree at the University of Chicago. Half the people who studied botany were hippies who thought they could return to some natural world system. Somehow feeding 7 billion people through pure gathering. They spent most of their time working out better ways to grow pot. I didn’t like them. I’ve always been in it for the science, not for any New World Order bullshit.

When they made compost heaps and tried to conserve every little ounce of living matter, I laughed at them. “Look at the silly hippies!” I would scoff. “Look at their pathetic attempts to simulate a complex global ecosystem in their back yard.”

Of course now I’m doing exactly that. I’m saving every scrap of biomatter I can find. Every time I finish a meal, the leftovers go to the compost bucket. As for other biological material…

The Hab has sophisticated toilets. Shit is usually vaccum-dried, then accumulated in sealed bags to be discarded on the surface.

Not any more!

In fact, I even did an EVA to recover the previous bags of shit from before the crew left. Being completely desiccated, this particular shit didn’t have bacteria in it anymore, but it still had complex proteins and would serve as useful manure. Adding it to water and active bacteria would quickly get it inundated, replacing any population killed by the Toilet Of Doom.

I found a big container and filled it with a bit of water, then added the dried shit. Since then, I’ve added my own shit to it as well. The worse it smells, the more successful things are going. That’s the bacteria at work!

Once I get some Martian soil in here, I can mix in the shit and spread it out. Then I can sprinkle the Earth soil on top. You might not think that would be an important step, but it is. There are dozens of species of bacteria living in Earth soil, and they're critical to plant growth. They'll spread out and breed like... well, like a bacterial infection..

Within a week, the Martian soil will be ready for plants to germinate in. But I won’t plant yet. I’ll spread it out over a doubled area. It’ll “infect” the new Martian soil. After another week, I’ll double it again. And so on. Of course, all the while, I’ll be adding all new manure to the effort.

My asshole is doing as much to keep me alive as my brain.

This isn’t a new concept I just came up with. People have speculated on how to make crop soil out of Martian dirt for decades. I’ll just be putting it to the test for the first time.

I searched through the food supplies and found all sorts of things that I can plant. Peas, for instance. Plenty of beans, too. I also found several potatoes. If *any* of them can still germinate after their ordeal, that’ll be great. With a nearly infinite supply of vitamins, all I need are calories of any kind to survive.

The total floor-space of the Hab is about 92 square meters. I plan to dedicate all of it to this endeavor. I don’t mind walking on dirt. It’ll be a lot of work, but I’m going to need to cover the entire floor to a depth of 10 cm. That means I’ll have to transport 9.2 cubic meters of Martian soil in to the Hab. I can get maybe 1/10th of a cubic meter in through the airlock at a time, and it’ll be backbreaking work to collect it. But in the end, if everything goes to plan, I’ll have 92 square meters of croppable soil.

Hell yeah I’m a botanist! Fear my botany powers!

LOG ENTRY: SOL 14

Ugh! This is backbreaking work!

I spent 12 hours today on EVAs to bring dirt in to the Hab. I only managed to cover a small corner of the base, maybe 5 square meters. At this rate it’ll take me weeks to get all the soil in. But hey, time is one thing I’ve got.

The first few EVAs were pretty inefficient; me filling small containers and bringing them in through the airlock. Then I got wise and just put one big container in the airlock itself and filled that with small containers till it was full. That sped things up a lot because the airlock takes about 10 minutes to get through.

I ache all over. And the shovels I have are made for taking samples, not heavy digging. My back is killing me. I foraged in the medical supplies and found some Vicodin. I took it about 10 minutes ago. Should be kicking in soon.

Anyway, it’s nice to see progress. Time to start getting the bacteria to work on these minerals. After lunch. No 3/4 ration today. I’ve earned a full meal

LOG ENTRY: SOL 16

One complication I hadn’t though of: Water.

Turns out being on the surface of Mars for a few million years eliminates all the water in the soil. My master’s degree in botany makes me pretty sure plants need wet dirt to grow in. Not to mention the bacteria that has to live in it first.

Fortunately, I have water. But not as much as I want. To be viable, soil needs 40 liters of water per cubic meter. My overall plan calls for 9.2 cubic meters of soil. So I’ll eventually need 368 liters of water to feed it.

The Hab has an excellent Water Reclaimer. Best technology available on Earth. So NASA figured “why send a lot of water up there? Just send enough for an emergency.” Humans need 3 liters of water per day to be comfortable. They gave us 50 liters each. There are 300 liters total in the Hab.

Looks like I won’t be able to cover the whole surface of the Hab with fertile soil. I’m willing to dedicate all but an emergency 50 liters to the cause. That means I can feed 62.5 square meters at a depth of 10cm. About 2/3 of the Hab’s floor. It’ll have to do. Anyway, I’ve only got a paltry 5 square meters covered at the moment.

After that, things got disgusting. I spent three hours spreading shit on Martian sand. I didn’t have to do it with my hands, at least.

I spread the sand out in a corner of the Hab, about 10cm thick. I wadded up a few blankets and uniforms from my departed crewmates to serve as one edge of a planter box (with the curved walls of the Hab being the rest of the perimeter). Then I sacrificed 20 liters of precious water to the dirt gods.

5 square meters was about right for the amount of manure I had handy. I dumped my big container o’ shit on to the soil and nearly puked from the smell.

That smell’s going to stick around for a while, too. It’s not like I can open a window. Still, you get used to it. I mixed this soil and shit together with a shovel, and spread it out evenly again. Then I sprinkled the Earth soil on top. Get to work, bacteria. I’m counting on you.

In other news, today is Thanksgiving. My family will be gathering in Chicago for the usual feast at my parent's house. My guess is it won't be much fun, what with me having died 11 days ago. Hell, they probably just got done gathering for my funeral.

I wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.

Wow. Things really came along.

I got all the sand in and ready to go. 2/3 of the base is now dirt. And today I executed my first dirt-doubling. It's been a week, and the former Martian soil was rich and lovely. Two more doublings and I will have covered the whole field.

All that work was great for my morale. It gave me something to do. But after things settled down a bit, and I had dinner while listening to Johanssen’s Beatles music collection, I got depressed again.

Doing the math, this won’t keep me from starving.

My best bet for making calories is potatoes. They grow prolifically and have a reasonable caloric content (770 calories per kg). I’m pretty sure the ones I have will germinate. Problem is I can’t grow enough of them. In 62 square meters, I could grow maybe 150kg of potatoes in 400 days (the time I have before running out of food). That’s a grand total of 115,500 calories, a sustainable average of 288 calories per day. With my height and weight, if I’m willing to starve a little, I need 1500 calories per day.

Not even close.

So I can’t just live off the land for ever. But I can extend my life. The potatoes will last me 76 days.

Potatoes grow continually, so in those 76 days, I can grow another 22,000 calories of potatoes, which will tide me over for another 15 days. After that, it’s kind of pointless to continue the trend. All told it buys me about 90 days.

So now I’ll start starving to death on Sol 490 instead of Sol 400. It’s progress, but any hope of survival rests on me surviving until Sol 1412, when Ares 4 will land.

There’s about a thousand days of food I don’t have. And I don’t have a plan for how to get it.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 22

Shit.

#the martian #the martian andy weir #lesbian rewrites #lesbiansafe #lgbt

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