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#literally i just used heat of the moment by asia as the summary idea and literally took a lyric and used it as the title
mckiwi · 11 months
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“Nobody asked me about my writing” meme
I was tagged by @aelaer (thank you btw)
1. What are you currently working on?
I’ve kinda been flipping between “Oblivescence” and “Heat of the Moment”. When I get tired of one I’ll switch to the other.
2. Summarize your current project.
Currently at about 3k words for “Heat of the Moment,” it’s just a simple oneshot I’m nearly finished with. Basically Loki seeks out Stephen and Thor for assistance because there’s mysterious murders happening in Jotunheim. Unfortunately they can’t use magic and daggers for all their problems. “Oblivescence” on the other hand is at about 7.3k words. A multi chapter fic that’s being a pain in the butt cause I’ve run into a plotting problem. Essentially Stephen in the fic is struggling to deal with all the memories from Dormammu and the time loops, so he starts to use a spell to get rid of his memories. You can imagine how well that turned out.
3. Summarize your current project poorly.
In one project Stephen is solving other peoples problems, in the other he’s creating his own.
4. Describe your favorite character or characters.
Stephen Strange, a boy born in Nebraska (a fact that gets featured in “Oblivescence”) and rose to fame in New York. He’s a family man at heart despite no longer having blood relatives to turn to anymore. For this reason, particularly the death of his younger sister, he made a career for himself in neurosurgery. He enjoys trivia, music, music trivia, reading, studying, pop-culture, helping people, and annoying his friends. He feels most comfortable in situations where there’s a high success rate and/or he’s in control. He’s a broken man but he always pieces himself together again. Loss and pain are two things he knows well. The loss of his family, the loss of Christine, the loss of his hands, and the loss of his inner peace are all things that have made him who he is today. He’s an incredibly deep character but there’s a summary.
5. Post a line from your current project without any context.
From “Oblivescence”: He didn't like sleeping in the dark, never had. Part of him wanted to put some of those plastic glowing stars on the ceiling like he had in his childhood bedroom.
From “Heat of the Moment”: Stephen looks up from where he had been absent-mindedly stepping in Thor's larger footsteps in the snow, only to face the opening of a cave.
6. How do you get through writers block?
I start reading the fic I’m working on, cause I’ll eventually either get in the momentum of the fic and start writing for it, or I answer some asks on @askthesorcerersupreme so I can get in the “writing for magic” mindset without having to stick to a plot.
7. Would you want to live in the world of your current work?
Imma have to pass on that. The world we live in is crazy enough, no need to add alien invasions to that.
8. Briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline.
Almost all of my fic ideas start out as just a basic idea, then I have to develop an actual fic out of it. “The Raven” started out as just Oh wouldn’t it be cool if Stephen collected the infinity stones in Infinity War? But then I had to break it up in sections. How does he get each stone? Why does he want the stones? What gets in the way of him achieving his goal? And eventually all those points are lined together into an outline I can write something about. So I suppose I use a sort of “divide and conquer” technique to make an outline.
9. What is the aesthetic of your current project?
“Oblivescence” gives of AU vibes but also Fix-It cause apparently the mcu refuses to even acknowledge Stephen’s trauma and backstory. Overall… oddly I’d say a vintage aesthetic idk it just fits. “Heat of the Moment” gives modern. A fun little fic with cool tones.
10. What song sums up your current work the best?
“Heat of the Moment” is literally named after “Heat of the Moment” by Asia. “Oblivescence” was actually a bit inspired by the song “Won’t Remember” by Tors. You look so much like him / The man that you were and It hurts just to miss you / When I’m there by your side are the two verses that inspired the way Stephen still has his same personality, just without knowing why he is the way he is. He has problems trusting people. Does he know why? Nope. But he knows that he does.
I’m tagging: @atypical-snowman @hithertoundreamtof23 @harpywritesfic @doctorwhitefox @webtrinsic1122 @rosewrites (and anyone else who wants to join)
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blizzardfluffykpop · 5 years
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Showed in Your Eyes
Summary: In the heat of the moment you find yourself forgetting your surroundings only knowing what is in front of you.
Minho X Jisung
Oneshot
This is for my Secret Santa job for Stray Kids Secret Santa Exchange @lee-knows-it I hope you enjoy this I tried to make it to your liking and all (I also wish you happier days, and warm hugs and smiles) @skzsecretsanta thanks for making this possible :)
Gang Au (Knocking out someone(s), kidnapping, selling drugs, hacking, I guess I did mention stabbing, but no deaths!)
You better believe this gang is strong, mostly because of their tight family bonds, these nine are inseparable and would go great lengths to protect each other their much more like a mafia because of their strong family bond
But they are more just nine kids that didn’t have support from their families, found each other and started relying on each other to make income
Chan is the leader of stray kids, no surprise there because he's quite smart, although he got into dealing drugs… he has a 4.0 GPA in college rn which is impressive, and actually tutors a few people he sells drugs to. He makes alliances with other gangs so if there is ever a time they go belly up he knows got7 will have their back and so will twice
Jeongin the youngest and helps makes the drugs alongside Seungmin, and packages it and sends it to Hyunjin who makes the deals
Seungmin he makes drugs alongside Jeongin and he likes to do chemistry so when he by accidentally found out how to make drugs, he was selling them and that lead to some trouble until he made friends with Woojin and he enlisted him into the gang
Hyunjin makes deals, but not only because he's handsome, its because the kid has a way with words, acts like he's giving them deals, by telling them a higher price than they are charging for, if they're not going for the price he starts off with, he'll tell them “You know you're cute, say what, I'll give you 50 percent off” they fall for it everytime
Woojin and Chan met by chance, Chan switched his course in bio, and Woojin needed a partner, and they were talking and found out they both could use each other
Woojin can make friends with ease and makes sure he can trust them before he draws them in to the gang
Changbin knew Jisung since high school and they both joined at the same time
They both do the same thing of dealing out drugs, although Changbin can be more aggressive if the person starts haggling Hyunjin for a lower price
Jisung may look soft and squishy but he puts up a fight like no other, they always think they can steal from Jisung because of his looks, they have another thing going
Hyunjin is so glad to have them behind him when he is making deals
Minho is a fighter, if the group ever gets into any trouble he is the one who is ready to beat up anyone who hurts his family, he also the interrogator of the group, much more of the bad cop
Also forgot to mention that Chan is the good cop interrogator if someone messes with them and comes into their borders without a reasonable reason
Felix was the last one to get into the gang he is a skilled hacker, he was on the run from Australia the govt caught him hacking in, Woojin found out and asked him if he wanted to join and they would never snitch on him, and Felix agreed and is the hacker for group and if anyone ever gets kidnapped or anything he is first to know and already laying out the blueprints to get them out
If we’re going in order how it works, Woojin recruit the members in the gang, Chan makes alliances with other gangs and sets up the meeting to sell the drugs, Jeongin and Seungmin are the drug makers, once the drug is made, it is handed over to Hyunjin, Hyunjin goes to the meeting place with Changbin and Jisung ready to jump in, if all fails and they get kidnapped, Felix is on it in a second, hacking into the cameras finding out where they were taken, once he finds out, Minho is on it in second, and without fail bails them out
Jisung and Hyunjin went together on a drug sale, Changbin was sick but trusted the two could take it in just like the rest of the gang thought they could
It turns out that the guy they were dealing with was aggressive, didn't like haggling, and started taking out on the two Jisung started fighting with him told Hyunjin to run and tell the others, thinking he had it
Before Hyunjin even made it off the side street, Jisung was snatched off the street and kidnapped
The minute Minho heard the news, his heart broke and he was blistering with anger
He started demanding Felix to work faster, he watched through the camera as Jisung was picked up and thrown into the back, he couldn't hear what was going on but he was kicking the man, but it was clear there were others
Minho turned away not being able to bare watching the scene unfold
He wouldn't lie if you asked him if he had feelings for Jisung he flat out tell you he did
He's just to shy to tell it to Jisung so he just babies him with cuddles and always worries about him, he would love to admit it but he worries about Jisung just liking him as a friend
And seeing that Jisung just got kidnapped his heart is completely crushed
“I found it just let me hack into the system and get your blueprints” A deep voice calls out, pulling Minho out of his thoughts
Not another minute goes before Felix prints it out, he gets up, “Go get your man” Minho's blush covers his face, he puts in his bluetooth and slams the car into drive down seven blocks parking across the street
Felix telling him to “go left and there should be an open window there” he hops up in
“Two guards coming up fast,... you're clear now, go down two doors on the right” Minho rushing being careful not to make a sound he sighs as he opens and shuts the door
“Secret bookshelf it should be the fifth green book on the 3rd shelf that opens it” he scans over the books, pulling at the grin book and nothing happens
“I don't think-” as the bookshelf starts spinning, “Late reaction I guess… anyway, you should be seeing three doors, pick the very first one and in there is Jisung but be warned he isn't alone!!”
Minho pulls up his black bandana, and opens the door, meeting a dark, wet, cement, he carefully steps in and slips into the corner
It must be a boiler room, and he looks and sees a shadow he quickly takes a stab at the person and they let out a grunt, “What's wrong, Lucas?” he hears a voice call out, he muffles his hand over Lucas mouth and quickly rids the man of any weapons while Lucas tries to fight back, to no avail, Minho knocks him out slamming his head enough against the cement to knock him out
“Lucas can't you see I'm in the middle of something!!!” a man screams out, stomping angrily towards them pulling a gun out at Minho, “What did you do to him?” “What did you do to Jisung?”
“Oh so this what this about… well I'm Taeyong, you're pretty good at sneaking past people aren't you?” Minho visibly gulps, “Well, let's make a trade you help Lucas up and bandage him. I'll see over it Jisung will stay here and I will give him back”
“You must care about your members a lot” “More than you would ever guess”
They take Lucas into another room and bandage him up and Lucas moans out in pain and rolls over but refuses to get up, “Now take me to Jisung and let me leave”
“Oh I'll take you to Jisung alright” and a gun is placed in the small of Minho's back taking Minho's arms and twisting them behind his back with one hand holding the gun in place and pushing him into the other room
Minho growls and loosens up, before he takes Taeyong on by surprise and throws him over him, in a quick burst he wrangles the gun out of Taeyong's hand, finally, seeing Jisung in front of him
He sighs in relief as he looks at Jisung, but before he could do anything to try to save Jisung he feels Taeyong move and start kicking at him, in one fail swoop he bashes his head on the ground to knock him out long enough to save Jisung and get out of there
He tips off the bandana on Jisung’s face seeing tears streaming down his face he looks up and sees Minho, his eyes widening as he softly gasps. Minho pulls his bandana down
He squats down to his level before cutting off the ropes surrounding Jisung's wrists
Jisung wraps his arms Minho, he laughs in relief, “I'm so glad it's you that came for me” Minho nods as he cuts the ropes from around his ankles
Before he can lift him over his shoulder and listen to what Felix is telling him, Jisung whispers, “I know it's a bad time to say this,... but you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever had chance to catch a glimpse of…” Minho feels his heart speed up, he seeing his chance, he takes his chin into his hand and kisses Jisung
He feels Jisung kiss back, he realizes where he is, “We can continue this later” he throws him over his shoulder, “Okay Felix tell me where it's clear"
Felix guides him through with ease, he rushes out the car and speeds off, his hand finding Jisung's as he makes it back to Woojin's house. He parks in the lot and Jisung thanks him over and over again, “So where were we” Jisung laughs, kissing Minho's cheek, “Take me on a date first” Minho rolls his eyes, “Anything for you my dear”
It turned out Jisung liked Minho more than just friends, and would make a strong relationship making the gang stronger and better than ever
Then one day they got caught the police held mercy on the nine, and cleared their records, told them to become big, and to never get into trouble or they would be in sling
They listened and sometimes life just works out that way, and if you're wondering they did make it big, becoming Stray Kids the kpop group no longer a gang, and they never got in trouble ever again
Minho and Jisung being the biggest gay kpop in the industry, support coming not just from each other but the fans as well
Nerves from stage fright will never beat gun fights, but they could easily get used to it
After all with the family altogether, nothing could come in their way, a strong bond they hold and will continue to hold for a very long time
They became sensations from speaking out about their struggles to being wise and knowledgeable about the world around them
Taking part in whatever they could to make the world a better place and possibly their smiles could make a difference in their fan’s days
They truly could and can like no one else, being so supportive or everyone they come across and it comes back to them just as equally or more so
(Sorry if it ended weird I was watching the new Cinderella and it made me go third point of view I'd fix it but I seems to me like the perfect end. I hope you enjoyed it and I wanted to get it out sooner but… I hope you had an amazing holiday, and a wonderful new year, for many more to come :)
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katsidhe · 4 years
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Fic: vladimir and estragon are dead [15.19 coda]
AO3
Summary: what plea, what surrender, will a bored God possibly accept at this late hour?
The world is empty.
They drive across a landscape that is only a little more desolate than it always has been. This is their end and their beginning, this is where their roads always lead: to highways with no cars for miles, empty backwaters and ghost towns. This time it’s only slightly more literal. The fulcrum of the universe shifts and tilts with them; the center of mass of the earth moves devastatingly, tenderly.
Sam waits for the gutting claustrophobia to kick in, and finds that he can’t make the feeling truly latch on. Maybe it’s because it’s always been here, curled up in his heart like a parasite. It’s not that Sam isn’t used to the idea of a prison larger than a planet, creation as a dark and empty pit, company laughably limited. He finds his mind instead attempting to flit over more practical concerns. When will the electrical grid fail? How many fires have already started, set by unattended stoves, how many cities are burning? How long until every light winks out, until darkness and silence returns to swallow the trappings of civilization?
Cas is dead, and he has died so many times, they’re all dead, they’ve all died so many times, but the pain still squeezes his heart, catches him under the collarbone like a knife. It hurts moving, breathing. But the losses Sam carries mean nothing compared to the weight of what he has personally managed to erase. His stubborn spite, his fetid desire to carve out a life for himself and his tiny family, his rebelliousness managed to get the fucking multiverse killed. Sam has never been to Asia, but now four billion people who lived there are gone. It is absurd to mourn. It is absurd to exist.
Sam won’t allow himself to feel the grief but he will permit the guilt to cripple him. What does it matter if he’s crippled? What does any of it matter? His defiance led to this: a blank page. An empty canvas.
When they reach the Bunker, the stars are bright above. It is the impossible, cold glory of a vast aquarium, viewed from the inside.
They drink together in the quiet. More accurately, they attempt to. Dean gamely downs pull after pull of whiskey. Sam tries. The first shot has him retching, spitting like it’s battery acid. He vomits on the library floor.
Dean laughs meanly, says, “I can drink for both of us.”
Sam looks up and meets his eyes and feels his face twist into a rictus laugh too. He finishes being sick and he doesn’t clean up, doesn’t bother. Cleaning, like many things, is not a concept.
It doesn’t feel like the world has ended down here, even though Sam knows it has. Could be any other day, miles and miles from civilization, insulated underground behind wards that keep out anything short of a god (or anything without the keys). This hole in the ground doesn’t feel vaster or emptier than it normally does. The wider world has never existed in this space; this is the center of the entire universe, just the two of them.
Dean passes out at some point, and Sam lays his head down too. He strips down to one layer, tosses his overshirts at a chair, kicks off his shoes, then his socks. He runs his fingers over the smooth grain of the table, over and over and over. He feels the worst kind of drunk, dizzy and lightheaded with a pounding headache. He should drink some water. He should eat some food. He won’t, though. Who’s depending on him now? For what purpose should his body be fueled? What power, fair or foul, mundane or magical, ought to keep his bones from collapsing in on themselves, into bloody withered dust?
“How do you summon God?” Dean asks muzzily, when he blinks awake again under the golden fluorescent light.
”Maybe the amulet,“ Sam offers. He’s been picturing it mutely all night, turning it over and over in his head, with the weight of heavy responsibility.
It’s dragged out of hiding. The brass is not just warm to the touch, it’s searingly hot. It burns Sam’s fingers when he tries to take it out of the box: even the barest brush of the cord makes him flinch away. Dean wraps his shirt around his hands and tries, and swears. The heat is not diminished one degree. Eventually Sam just takes the entire memory box, upends it messily on the library counter, uses a broken pencil to fish out the amulet and dump it in the metal bowl, among the herbs and the roots and the bones of a small furred creature.
By silent agreement they take everything outside, blinking in the bright dawn chill, leaving Jack to his miserable sleep. Sam is still barefoot. The sharp gravel opens tiny wounds. Shoes seem a pointless inconvenience, some petty barrier between himself and the world, and for what? What can reach him now?
It’s the strongest summoning spell Sam knows. Enochian and Sumerian, to call like to like, to invoke heavenly power. A sigil Rowena taught him, that inscribes itself in purple flame.
He chants quietly in the stillness. The amulet flares in blinding white light, but as the brilliance dampens Sam can make it out when it melts, when it dwindles into pointless black sludge. Dean touches the bowl briefly. Sam feels nothing.
Not that it matters. He knows Chuck can hear them. He prays, too, with belief and desperation he hasn’t felt in years. He gets on his knees, and after a moment, Dean joins him. It makes Sam’s heart twist.
They pray to a God who is not absent. The spot in his shoulder where Sam shot God and himself aches sharply. God wants him to suffer, he knows. He understands where they live now, in a wasteland with something that hates them. This is familiar territory. They are Chuck’s entertainment, his bulwark against a devastating darkness.
Nothing and nobody shows. Sam shifts from his knees into a full-body prostration, doesn’t look to see if Dean does the same. Instead, he buries his face in the dirt. Tears still won’t come. It’s not  that he’s numb. He’s just had too much practice, that’s all. Please, he prays, please, he is so sorry, he will bear any humiliation, any torment, he will bear any trial, please, for mercy—
A thought, a message, or a memory. Will you, Sam? Will you? What will you do for me? Will you cut out your heart for me, hold it in your hand, will you eat it?
And Sam knows this isn’t enough. Of course not, their mere surrender is never what Chuck wanted. Sam knows what Chuck wants, right? He’s lived it long enough. Chuck wants to watch.
“Dean,” Sam says. He sits up and brushes dirt from his face. Dean is already standing. Staring up at the risen sun. He’s holding his knife. He’s figured it out too.
“I know,” Dean says.
Still on his knees, Sam looks at the knife. “We have to make it good,” he says. “Not too fast, right?”
Dean stares down at him in horrific fury. There are tears in his eyes. “This is fucked.”
Sam smiles like a flinch, just at the corners of his mouth. “Not like we haven’t been here before,” he says. “It’s okay.”
Dean comes a step closer. Close enough. Hit me, Dean, Sam thinks, Sam urges. He wants it with his whole being, invites it. The whole universe sings with the cosmic rightness of it. The new sun wants this to happen, the sky the Kansas fields the deep blue sea God in his Heaven and the Devil in his Hell, every molecule, every uncounted star and every grain of sand wants this. Sam wants this, with sublime intensity.
Sam wants to say the words to summon Dean’s wrath, but in this moment he can’t remember them. Maybe just being is enough. It should be. Maybe just kneeling here in the dew-damp grass will be enough, to fan the sense-memories. It is for Sam. He can feel the tears coming, for the first time since the world ended.
Dean’s face forces itself into something like a snarl. It’s ugly. “I’m not torturing you, asshole,” he says.
Sam shrugs, with one shoulder. His other hurts with an abominable, shooting pain. “Gut wound?” he suggests. This time he does smile.
Dean scoffs. “You do me first,” he says. He takes Sam’s arm and drags him upright. He paws at his belt, brings out his gun, and presses it into Sam’s hands.
Sam doesn’t fumble on the slide, on the grip. His fingers check the weapon and click off the safely with automatic efficiency. He nods loosely. He understands. This too is the sacrifice demanded, and neither of them may shirk their parts.
“At the same time, then,” Sam says.
Dean scrubs his hand over his face. He nods.
“Chuck!” Dean screams. “Chuck, this is for you! You’d better fucking FIX THIS! Bring them back, bring them all back. Here’s your goddamn ending.”
He looks at Sam, and Sam looks at him. Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder, to keep them both upright. Dean grips his arm with painful intensity. When the knife slides into Sam’s abdomen, and twists in a burst of breathless star-bright agony, some puzzle piece of the universe slots into alignment. When Sam’s fingers bury the muzzle between their bodies and pull the trigger, crimson relief overtakes him in a flood.
Their breath releases in a gasp. For long, impossible moments they remain upright, swaying, foreheads pressed together. Sam wants to clutch instinctively at the fatal wound, but that would mean releasing the gun or releasing his grip on Dean’s shoulder, both absurd impossibilities. Dean’s hand is cold on his arm but so warm in the mess of his stomach.
An eternity later they stagger apart. Sam watches fascinated as his breath mists in the dawn air.  He gasps again as the knife slides out and drops, as the gun drops next to it. Now finally his fingers are permitted to explore the bloody gape of his torso. His searching eyes meet Dean’s, similarly poleaxed. Now his brother’s face has relaxed into half a grin, high on gory oblivion.
“Together,” Dean breathes, on a trickle of blood. “Hah.”
Sam nods. They’re both sinking inwards, gravity dragging them down. Where will they go, he wonders, with Death’s death, God’s spite, the world’s emptiness. Somewhere either better or worse than here, he decides, and it doesn’t matter which.
“Picturesque enough?” Dean spits at the sky. His smile is broadening. His eyes are red. He’s hungover, or actually, still drunk, Sam thinks. Blurry with misery. Sam is only drunk on guilt.
The sun climbs higher. Sam breathes in bloody panting gasps and watches red mud form around them. He and Dean aren’t touching anymore, and somehow that too feels right. He can listen and watch Dean curled into himself and dying out of the corner of his half-slitted eye. The heat of the new day builds, skimming over them like the brush of a giant hand. The pain in his shoulder splits him through, worse than the pain in his gut. When he coughs, the world itself shudders.
The blood pools in grass and dirt, forming little eddies and ponds. Like an ecosystem, Sam thinks. He tries to imagine a new world springing up from where he and Dean are soaking into the soil—fresh life, a microcosm of new biota. It’s all he wants. But the only image he can picture is the slick of black oil sheen at dusty gas stations, the unnatural rainbow opalescence of toxic reflections, a poison where nothing at all can grow. He doesn’t pray for meaning, but he wishes he were allowed to. Like in the Cage, it carries the sick certainty that the only God that can hear him is one that certainly means him ill.
Between one blink and the next, Chuck is standing on the grass, loafers brushing the pooled blood. “Hey, guys,” he says. He’s smiling, only very faintly.
“Bring them back,” rasps Dean. He’s nearly gone. They’re both nearly gone. “We did what you wanted.”
Chuck doesn’t respond. Doesn’t do anything like pull up a lawn chair, either, like Sam might have expected—just stands and stares with perfect inhuman attention.
Sam doesn’t feel it when Dean dies, but he knows it happened. When Sam dies, God is still watching over him.
Chuck is smiling when Sam gasps back to life, when he hears Dean gagging a few feet away. Sam recognizes the expression, because he’s seen it before, in a dim and bloody tunnel, in a different universe.
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First Chance at a Family
Day 2 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas.  Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the list!
Prompt: ginger/gingerbread
Rating: T
Pairing: 9xRose AU; mini-sequel to Second Chance at Forever
Summary: Rose & John’s journey to parenthood, told in 4 parts.  Warnings for: morning sickness, pregnancy, etc
2020 31 Days of Ficmas masterlist  |  Second Chance at Forever
AO3
---
“Ugh.”  Wiping at her mouth Rose leaned back, closing the toilet lid and reaching for the flush.  Tilting over onto her side, she rested her heated face against the soothingly cold bathroom floor, feeling like death warmed over.  “This is the third morning in a row, and I’m starting to think it’s not the New Year’s hangover,” she mumbled into the tiles.  “I’m not ready to go there.”
Her one comfort was that John was surely already at work, blissfully unaware of the physical and mental turbulence occurring in her stomach.  No need to worry him before she had to.
“If I still don’t feel well tomorrow, I’ll go see a doctor,” she bartered with her stomach, hand hovering over it for a moment before clenching her fist and lowering it to the ground.  That, she felt, would be a tacit acknowledgement of the increasingly-likely scenario, and she wasn’t ready to face that yet.  “And if not, definitely the day after.”
She lay there for a few more minutes, eventually determining it was safe to resume her day.  Moving gingerly, she washed her face and brushed her teeth, pulling her dressing gown tightly around her as she shuffled towards the kitchen-
And froze, shocked to see her husband sitting at the table sipping from a mug and writing on a piece of paper.
“Morning,” he said flatly, not looking up.  “That’s for you.”  His head tilted in the direction of a steaming mug across from him, and she sank into the seat without taking her eyes off him.
Lifting the mug to her lips, she found ginger tea, her stomach clenching at the implication.
“I thought you had office hours this morning,” she broke the silence once she’d drunk half of it. “Why…”
“My wife is sick, I wanted to be here if she needed me.  However, I didn’t want to intrude if she wasn’t ready to tell me what’s going on?”
And just like that, she knew- that her fears were correct, and worse, John had clearly figured it out first.  Shit. In the back of her mind she knew this was a good thing, she should be happy about it, but we’ve only been married a year, it’s too soon!
She let out a sigh. “Technically, I don’t know what’s going on.  I just have… growing suspicions.”  Peeking up at him, she met his eye, his expression softening.
“I see.”  Setting down his pen John removed his glasses, rubbing at his face for a moment before rising, coming around the corner of the table to kneel beside her.  “I realized yesterday, and… it’s more than a suspicion.”
“That’s what I get for marrying a doctor,” she joked weakly, rubbing her thumb along his jawline.  “I wasn’t… keeping it from you, I just… hadn’t faced it yet myself.”
Leaning up, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.  “Okay. I’ve already called us both off, so why don’t we lie down for a cuddle, and not talk about it?”
“Okay,” she agreed, heart filling with love for such a wonderful, understanding partner.  “I’m gonna finish this tea, first, though.”
“Absolutely.”  John stood, resting his hand on her back and offering her a small smile.  “The ginger will help with the nausea.  So will a nap.”
Deciding to bring the mug to the bedroom with her, she let him guide her into bed, curling up in his arms with her head on his chest and his hands on her belly.
-
Seven nausea-filled days later found them sitting in an exam room, Rose aggressively chewing on a piece of ginger candy as she sat on the table looking around.  John was seated on the guest chair, seemingly enthralled with a pamphlet, though his bouncing leg gave evidence to his own anxiety.
“Oi.”
He looked up, blinking. “Yeah?”
“Why ginger?”
“What d’you mean?”
She gestured with the bag of candy in her hand.  “Why does this supposedly help?”  With every minute they had to wait she was growing more nervous, and nothing distracted her the way her husband could when he fell into ‘professor mode’.
John immediately abandoned the pamphlet on the countertop, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees.  “Well, first, it’s a traditional remedy dating back thousands of years, mostly in India and Southeast Asia, where it grows naturally.  It’s fairly interesting actually – it helps with a number of ailments, and isn’t limited to the digestive tract.  Current thought is that it’s an anti-inflammatory and anti-oxidant, and can cure sickness from motion and chemotherapy, not just-” he paused to wave at her, but was prevented from continuing by a rap on the door followed by it opening.
“Good morning,” the doctor said brusquely, stepping in.  “Noble?”
“Yes,” they chorused, Rose adding, “I’m Rose, this is John.”
The doctor nodded, consulting the iPad in his hand.  “Great, I’m Doctor MacMartin.  So, I have your test results.”  He sat on the stool, setting down the tablet and looking at her for the first time. “You’re pregnant.”
Despite having spent the last week coming to terms with the idea, the confirmation knocked the breath from Rose’s lungs.  Pregnant. A baby.  She looked to John, who was silent, eyes wide and surprised but pleased, with a silly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  In response her own twitched, and suddenly they were beaming at each other, tears pricking at her eyes.
A baby.  A family.
And just like at the end of The Grinch, her heart expanded.
-
“I have literally never hated you more than I do at this moment.”
John, the bastard, had the gall to smirk, not pausing as he tucked her in.  “It’s just for two weeks,” he said cheerfully.  “Then our bundle of joy will be here, and you won’t want to get out of bed.  You should rest while you can.”
She huffed in response, folding her arms across her enormous belly.  At thirty-seven weeks she’d been placed on bed rest as a precaution, and two hours into it, she was already going mad.  John was fussing over her like a mother hen, and she already knew it would be worse when word spread and Donna and Jackie showed up to ‘help’. She was tired, and sore, and she hadn’t seen her feet in months, constant heartburn, and the most galling bit- “Why do you lie?”
“About what?”  Kicking his shoes off he settled himself next to her hip, one hand naturally settling to the bump and stroking, doing little to calm the rolling child within.
“‘Morning sickness’. More like ‘all day sickness’.  And why do you say it’s only during the first trimester?  Why am I still nauseous?  I mean, I know I haven’t actually been sick, but honestly, I don’t mind that so much- at least after I feel better, if only for a few minutes.  But there’s no relief!”
He clucked his tongue sympathetically, hand moving to caress her knee.  “I know it sucks, and you’ve had it rough.  But you’re doing brilliantly, really, and I’m so proud of you. You’re already such a great mum.” Leaning forward, he nabbed a ginger candy from the nightstand and handed it to her.  “Not much longer.”
“And to think, people say this is the easy part,” she muttered petulantly, unwrapping the candy and popping it in her mouth.  “I just wanna meet them.”  They’d decided, after weeks of squabbling, not to find out what they were having- the deciding factor had been when Pete had let slip Jackie’s plans for a gender reveal party, and Rose had put her foot down out of principle.
John was silent for a long minute, waiting out her sighing and grumbling until she settled.  “I know.  Me too.  But for now, can I tempt you with a movie instead?”
“Don’t you have to go to work?”  Even as she said the words she reached for her mobile, pulling up Netflix to broadcast it to the telly he’d set up.
“Nah,” he said easily, moving to sit next to her, close enough they were touching from hip to thigh. “And, I had one in mind.”  Nabbing her mobile, he held it out of her reach, typing one-handed.
Moments later the telly flicked on, Netflix opening on the movie credits, and she gasped.  “Top Hat!  My favorite.”
“I know,” John said smugly, dropping the mobile on the bed in favor of taking her hand.  “I know you and your Mum have Cliff Richards movies, and I want us to have something similar with little Florence.”
“Not happening,” she didn’t glance at him.  “Ginger and Fred- yes.  Florence?  No. We’re not having a grandmother.” The baby kicked then, and she smiled down fondly at her stomach.  “Isn’t that right, little one?  Daddy’s just being silly, you’ll see, Earl.”
Her husband scoffed. “Is that a pun?  We are not name our child Earl Noble, Rose Tyler- talk about setting him up for failure!”
“Shush.  The movie’s starting.”
Grinning, they turned back to the show- neglecting the dancing on screen to focus instead on the movement of her belly, the child within dancing to the music far more interesting.
Two more weeks!
-
Fighting back a yawn, John made his way down the corridor to the waiting room, stopping just out of sight to take in the room.  Everyone they loved most was gathered there, scattered around in small groups.  At first glance the only person missing was his godson August, the baby likely with Martha’s parents; even Tony was there, though the six-year-old was asleep against his father.
It warmed his heart to see them all together, waiting, already loving the little life they didn’t know had arrived, and was currently be weighed and cleaned up.  Slipping his mobile from his pocket he took a picture of the group, wanting to capture this moment, show his child how loved they were from their first breath.
Taking the few steps needed to enter the room, he bit back a smile when no one looked up or registered his presence.  “You all waiting on someone?”
In seconds he had everyone’s full attention, eager eyes waiting with bated breath, and he knew he was failing to contain his joy as they gathered close, instantly dropping their newspapers and books and mobiles to focus on him.
“Well?!”  It was Tony who broke the silence, eyes still full of sleep, and John crouched down in front of him.
“C’mere, mate.”
The boy stepped closer, watching impatiently, little brow furrowing.  “Is my Rosie okay?”
“She is.”  John took a deep breath, nearly overwhelmed with the moment, and the weight of the words he was about to say.  “So’s your niece.”
The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop for one heart stopping moment; and then Jackie screamed “It’s a girl!” and everything devolved into chaos, as he was pulled in every direction for hugs, kisses, and congratulations.
“Wait!” Donna commanded, loud enough to be heard over the chatter, drawing everyone’s attention. “More information.  Is Rose okay?  What’s the baby’s name?  When can we see them?”
“Right.”  Still hugging Martha, somewhat leaning on her for support, he organized his thoughts.  “Rose is fine- a champ, of course, though she’s exhausted.  Baby’s good, big and healthy.  And you can see them in an hour or so.”
Martha poked him viciously in the side.  “And her name?”
His smile grew, thinking of his little girl – for so long she’d felt like an abstract concept, despite watching Rose’s belly grow and actively planning for her arrival.  But now she was here, and beautiful, and his heart was fully.  “Genevieve Amelia.  Jenny.”
This brought on more gushing, and far too many questions for his tired brain to track, much less comprehend or answer, until once again, his sister’s voice broke through.
“Who’s she look like?”
“Rose.”  He grinned; every baby he’d ever seen had just looked like a squirming blob, especially at only minutes old, but not his little girl- no, his daughter already looked so much like her mother it was uncanny. “But she’s got your hair.”
“Yes!” Donna crowed, clutching onto Lee’s arms.  “Another ginger!  We need more of them in this family, I always said that.  Does this mean I get first dibs on meeting her?”
This sparked a new, lively debate between Donna, Sylvia, and Jackie, John just shaking his head with a grin. Catching his grandfather’s eye he tilted his head slightly, before grabbing his brother-in-law’s hand and slipping away with a wink to Pete.
Everyone would have a chance to meet the baby, but they’d decided the oldest and youngest would have first dibs.
Overwhelmed by the urge to see Rose and Jenny, he quickened his step.
His family needed him.
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megbox · 5 years
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2018 Year In Review
Previous Posts: (2017) (2016) (2015) (2014) (2013) (2012) (2011) 
2018 has not been a banner year for self care. It has not been a banner year for much of anything, to be honest. This year in review will be much less colourful and exciting than they traditionally tend to be. It has been a year of hard work, stress, and feeling the pressure of the less-fun parts of adulthood creeping up on me. It has been really hard, to be totally honest. I have spent the majority of the year in a deep state of exhaustion and distress. There are positives within it all, though. Big positives, such as: 
I went on my longest trip ever away from home. 
I have developed so much in the professional sense and have fallen so deeply in love with social work and my future career path. 
I have made new friends who reflect these changing influences in my life, and the enduring friendships that have survived all of these years continue to strengthen and deepen as time goes on. 
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January: 
Tell me - why does January always suck? 2018 began with an opening double shift on New Year’s Day, which I feel is strongly symbolic of the year as a whole because you have an exhausted Megan struggling to responsibly balance my professional responsibilities, self-care, and partying. On January 3rd, Alex and I booked our flights to Asia and in doing so, solidified that we were going through with a plan made drunkenly over the table last summer at a karaoke bar. 
I did get to spend an awesome ski weekend with Alesta, Sydney x 2, and Shelby. It was especially nice because this particular group of people had never spent time all together - we were just united by being a group of girls who love to ski. We hit Lake Louise on Saturday, stayed overnight at a hostel in Banff, and Alesta and I hit Sunshine on Sunday. In Banff, we got a free jug of sangria because we are cute girls. We went to High Rollers and Sydney was drinking IPAs and porters like a pro. I went alone (like... what? Who am I? How drunk was I?) to Dancing Sasquatch after and made friends with some Nova Scotians in line. One of them paid for my cover and bought me not one but two of those infamous Time Machine drinks and extra bonus - Alesta and I got FREE lift passes at Sunshine. 
At the end of the month, my mental health took a sharp nosedive into oblivion and I don’t even really know why. I started experiencing a violent resurgence of something I haven’t felt since the end of the 12th grade, having what I now recognize as panic attacks. The first one came when I was studying on a Sunday at Higher Ground and I had no idea what the fuck was happening, I’d been there for several hours when I suddenly felt the urge to throw up. I packed up all my shit and burst out the door literally gasping for air but ended up being fine. Just shaky and confused. They started happening more frequently after this, with no predictable trigger, and I started to feel the physical manifestations of stress. That was new and it freaked me out. This lent itself to a lot of strange patterns around eating (since I was constantly feeling nauseous, or I thought I was, I didn’t want to have a full stomach. I also thought I had a food intolerance, and because I’m me was 100% convinced I was pregnant because the stress caused me to miss my period). 
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February 
Things started to get so bad in February that I had to plead my manager at Famoso for less hours. He was an idiot in general but also did not seem to grasp the severity of what I told him. He would frequently schedule me for these long swing swifts all weekend long, leaving no time or energy for the mountains of homework I had to do. It did not help. 
February was especially busy with school. That’ll be a recurring theme throughout this year. It could honestly be a summary of this entire year - so I’ll spare you the details. But five courses at the University of Calgary is no joke. 
I never needed reading week so badly in my entire life. I was beyond happy to just be able to take a long weekend and not be at Famoso. Shelby arranged for a giant group of her friends to spend the weekend at her friend Sawyer’s massive, absolutely beautiful cabin in Invermere. I got to spend some quality time with two of my favourite people on the planet - Emma and Sydney. From the minute we got into Emma’s car together, to having ciders at the Emerald Lake Lodge on the way, to eating A&W and sharing a bed and “she gon’ fuck the fridge.” Sydney and I spent one afternoon on homework while everyone else went skiing and I was with her when she got the news that she’d won this massive grant and we celebrated by sitting in this magical massage chair and just loving life. We played Drink, Talk, Learn! And I gave a drunken presentation on the history and etiology of pugs. Emma and I went skating on Lake Windermere to cure our hangovers on Sunday. A keg and a bonfire were involved. It was so Canadian, honestly LOL. And so perfect. 
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March 
Although I was still struggling with this weird panic-nausea cycle, it lessened through March as more and more assignments were completed. I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to use a cliche. I gave three presentations in a week, I remember that being particularly awful. 
I attempted Mellow March for the second time and once again failed. Mildly concerning. I caved on a Wednesday wing night with the Famoso friends. It was 27 days in. So close, so close. 2019 will be my year! 
I started getting really into podcasts at this time because I started commuting using public transit. I got really into Guys We Fucked (which I still love), and This Is Actually Happening. TIAH is kind of fucked up though, and after a while it started to fuck me up. I would have weird dreams about the content and I started becoming paranoid that there was something wrong/extraordinary about me. So I stopped. I guess that is something I have learned about myself this year, is that even when it’s not overt, I am really deeply effected by some of the things I learn. Typically, people of this nature do not excel in the field of social work so allow me to flag this as a place for improvement in the future.
I ran the 5km at the St. Patrick’s Day road race, which was awesome and I won the draw that everyone was entered in and got a FREE pair of these super nice, hot pink New Balance running shoes that I now cherish with my life. 
I had my first round of practicum interviews, which only ended up being one interview because I was offered the placement at CommunityWise before I could interview anywhere else. This is one of the best things to happen the whole year :) 
And a special moment for me as well was on March 31, I got to see Alvvays live. 
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April 
In April, I finished hell semester and immediately jetted off to Thailand.
From the get go, the trip was a bit of a shit show. This was my second time to Asia, and my first experience with really planning a trip including flights, hostels, and transportation from place to place without the aid of a tour guide or travel company. We had a time even getting to Bangkok due to an untimely snow storm the day of our departure that forced our flight to Vancouver to be late and causing us to miss our connecting flight to China. After two hours in line at the Air Canada desk, an agent produced a new itinerary for us. Calgary to Los Angeles to Hong Kong to Bangkok. He printed the sheets out and when I looked at the times on the paper, the mental math wasn’t adding up. With me, the mental math never really adds up but this time it seemed impossible that we could leave so much later than planned for our trip and arrive in Bangkok only three hours later than we were supposed to. I brought this up with him and he assured me it was fine. I wasn’t satisfied though, and asked a bunch of other airport personnel the same question. They all said we were fine but lo and behold, we land in Hong Kong and are waiting for the Thai Airlines desk to open so we can retrieve the tickets for the last leg of the journey when the agent there tells us, “They put you on the flight that left yesterday.” Anger and distress ensues. I call Air Canada from the airport in Hong Kong and the call drops. I’m straight up crying on the floor at this point. But in the end – we fucking made it.
In Bangkok, I was welcomed back to the stifling heat and humidity of Asia. We met American doctors-to-be who were at the end of their trip and were totally sick of one another and were very happy to have company. We ate massaman curry for every meal, partied on Khao San Road (those nitrous balloons!!! God, they’re so fun!!), and spent a lot of money on a single cocktail just for a photo op at the top of a skyscraper but the sunset was perfect and it was totally worth it.
In Chiang Mai we drank Sangsom and Coca-Cola by the pool and ate street food out of Styrofoam containers. We met these Americans who were teaching English in Chiang Mai and they took us to a night club on the back of their motorbikes. I did a drug I said I’ve never do in one of the bathrooms at this night club and ended up going home with one of the aforementioned teachers. It was funny to me because at about 3:00pm, Alex and I went back to our hostel to change and get ready for the evening and at that point I said, “I think I’m going to end up hooking up with Cory.” I fucking knew. I KNEW.
In Pai, I had the DIRTIEST hostel experience of my life. I was showering… just fully naked and vulnerable in this nasty ass shower when I saw a bug I did not recognize from my sheltered upbringing crawl out of a hole in the wall. I have never felt more small. It was also 43 degrees and we were staying in a tiny hut with a plug-in fan that only worked half the time and somehow had the effect of making the room hotter? Pai was also the first time we rented motorbikes. It’s honestly so dangerous… like, what the fuck, Thailand. We experienced our first flash rainstorm. We went to a place called Sunset Bar and took mushroom shakes and holy shit I’ve never experienced more potent mushrooms in my entire life. We met our Irish friends who we’d later see in Koh Pha Ngan, and I slept with an Israeli soldier on our second-to-last night and I’m almost 100% certain I took his virginity.
Koh Pha Ngan was alllll thunderstorms. We also decided to splurge a bit on food on this island and gorged ourselves with seafood and lavender Moscow mules at this nice restaurant down the road from our hostel. We partied so hard. We went to the pre-parties for the Full Moon – they have the Waterfall party two nights before, and the Jungle party the night before. I had sex with a total stranger at the Waterfall party up against a rock (when I recounted this story to Steven upon returning home he put on a redneck accent and said, “C’mon baby let me take you down to the fuck rock” and now that’s all I hear when I think about this experience in my head). The Full Moon Party was fun but not AS fun as the pre parties. It wasn’t as wild and the beach is so big but everyone concentrates in one little area. I took some kind of mystery pill (as you can see, I was very safe in Thailand) and had yet another sexual experience with a casual partner. I also witnessed a fight in the taxi back because one girl called another girl a stripper. It was bad.
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May 
Continuing on with our Asia trip.
We landed in Krabi and intended fully to chill out a little bit after the wildness of Koh Pha Ngan. The first night was chill, we were staying in the Muslim quarter of the Krabi area so there weren’t a ton of nightclubs to go to and the hostel had some kind of run-in with police and weren’t able to take us out on the pub crawl we signed up for (lame). We had a roommate from Vancouver on the second day who bought a bunch of Xanax from a Thai pharmacy and gave me one. I can never do it again because it was so. good. But of course, I took one pill and stopped drinking just in case. This bitch continued drinking and took six or seven Xanax throughout the night. I honestly don’t know how she lived. We went rock climbing and drank beers on a boat tour one day and it was soooo great. We had the hottest tour guide. I did a hike by my lonesome that I nearly died on.
On the ferry ride from Krabi to Koh Phi Phi is where I got the sunburn that will likely give me skin cancer in later life and kill me. 90 minutes on the outside deck of a ferry (because I felt nauseous as fuck and didn’t want to vom in the cabin) absolutely fucked. me. up. We stayed at another pretty fucking gross hostel in Koh Phi Phi, and my roommates were all male which was a new experience for me. I went on a solo booze cruise cause Alex was sick. We took mushrooms again with our Canadian friend Kelsey and god, I was laughing so hard I was crying and I could not stop. I was like rolling around in the sand laughing so fucking hard about Fisherman’s Friends candy. It was so blissful. So pure.
And then… the sickness. This is going to be TMI but… fuck it. A bit of indigestion and stomach trouble is expected whenever a white person enters Asia. Different microbes etc. etc. But this… this was on a new fucking level. I knew something was up because on the morning that we woke up to take our ferry from Koh Phi Phi to Phuket, I vomited. And I never vomit, and I wasn’t that hungover (especially in relation to much of the rest of the trip). I felt okay afterwards though so we soldiered on. Three hour ferry ride, totally fine. We board our bus that will take us from the ferry port in Phuket to our hotel and about halfway through this bus ride, I feel it. I am wearing overalls. My heart starts beating loudly in my chest, sweat begins to bead on my forehead. Holy fuck, I am going to shit my pants. I clench until we get to the hostel – which is, of course, the last stop. It’s like a solid 45 minutes of pain. My stomach is ROILING. I have never felt anything like it.
I honestly know nothing about Phuket because I spent the entire 72 hours we were there running from my bunk bed to the bathroom. I would go so far as to say every ten minutes. At one point, I just brought my laptop into the washroom with me and watched Netflix for a few hours. A roommate who was with us switched rooms (understandably… I’m sorry, Helen). I didn’t eat for four days, literally not a fucking thing. Just Gatorade and water so that I didn’t die of dehydration. Because we had an airplane to catch and I needed to not be shitting the contents of my body out, I saw a doctor. He prescribed me like five different medications and told me just to take like eight of these pills and to expect stomach pain but it would at least get me through the flight to Seoul and hopefully home.
It worked, and we spent the last few days of our trip in Seoul. What an absolutely fascinating and beautiful part of the world. With Kieun as our guide, we got to see the best parts of Seoul. People took photos with us and gave us free shit. I had the absolute best meal of my life (it was the first thing I’d eaten in like four days… I really risked it all with the Korean barbecue honestly…). All-you-can-eat thick fatty slices of pork belly, grilled in front of us and dipped in sesame oil and salt with garlic and spices. Spicy chicken feet on the side, corn with cheese. It was wild. I cannot believe I stomached it.
And on May 12th, we returned home back to our lives and school and work and all of that boring ass shit. I remained ill for a solid six weeks upon returning home. To a lesser degree, I still have not fully recovered. At this point, I am unsure if I ever will. I truly think that second-round Asia gave me skin cancer and permanently altered my gastrointestinal functioning. Worth it? Unsure. But it happened nonetheless.
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June 
My brother graduated from university and won a very prestigious award and it was very nice to watch him cross the stage and hear a nice speech about his accomplishments (he won so many scholarships that he basically had a free ride to school – I think it’s clear who inherited the brains).
I finished up my spring courses. Can I just say - spring courses are the worst? The two I picked were especially bad. The one about human sexuality was basically Sex Ed 101 which made for an easy A but I was hoping to investigate deeper on a number of topics. And the second one was way too hard for my tiny brain to accommodate and I got the lowest mark I’ve ever gotten on my paper and it brought me down.
I had a very random unexpected night where I slept with a really close friend of mine (like, friends for over a decade) who I used to have a little bit of a crush on in high school. We were very drunk and it was kind of a curiosity-satisfying move that has actually not resulted in a very big change to our relationship at all but I think it’s worth mentioning because younger me would have been stoked. This one’s for you, younger me!
We went to the High River Rodeo and Cabaret – another unexpected move but oh my god it was so fun. Matt, Steven, Amanda and I. You could buy as many beers as you wanted at a time and they were cheap because fuck the AGLC apparently. The rodeo was actually super fun. The cabaret was redneck af and I happened to see my roommate from the hostel in Koh Phi Phi and his buddies there? Although it was not a friendly reunion because I had unknowingly exposed him for cheating on his girlfriend when he was in Phi Phi (which he did. I shared a room with him, and the girl he loudly banged every night until 4am). Two-stepping ensued and I passed out in the car ride home. I have a great photo of Steven from this night next to a bottle of hot sauce. I do not recall why. I will include it below. 
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July 
Okay, I am just going to preface this by saying July was a hot mess. 
Myself, Madison, Maeghan, and Cayley were all single and messing around on dating apps so we decided to create Tinder bingo. It’s exactly what it sounds like. The rules were that you could only cross off two things per date (so that you had to go on a minimum of three to win), you got bonus points for going on a Tinder date with the same person someone else had gone out with, and the first to win got their drinks paid for on a night out. So, I went on exactly one Tinder date. Which is something I said I’ve never do and never really saw myself doing but I went for it on this occasion because I think that in this day and age, a Tinder date is an experience everyone should have. So I bit the bullet, and went for a drink with this guy James at the Oak Tree Tavern. And oh... my god? What a terrible experience? LAUGHABLY terrible. His only desired topic of conversation were the nationalities of people I had slept with and in what circumstances. At one point he asked me, “when was the last time you had sex? Was it good?” He also talked at maximum volume and I guarantee you everyone else at that bar overheard our conversation. Midway through the date, he asked for a review of how he was doing and I told him he seemed a bit nervous. This angered him. He said, “I’M NOT NERVOUS” and I was like, “you asked, buddy.” He asked me if I would pay for him. Cayley literally had to come rescue me and I ran out of his car where he had unbuttoned his pants and had his dick out and was literally on the verge of tears begging me to touch it so hard. I literally bolted out of his car and he yelled out the window, “CALL ME!” He still hits me up on instagram sometimes. I hope his life gets better. 
I also moved again. This is my favourite living situation I’ve ever had. Great roommates who are almost never home. Cute house. Good location. A+ choice by me. 
I got really obsessed with the Thai cave rescue. It was just such a compelling and unique STORY and I would literally come home from work and refresh the BBC live update feed for hours until I fell asleep, then I’d wake up and refresh hoping for good news. I cannot wait for the movie. I will go opening day. #Obsessions 
Stampede!!! Oh my god, what a wonderful Stampede. The most memorable thing is that Steven and I went to the standing rodeo one afternoon and got absolutely. fucking. hammered. Whilst there, we met and befriended two Australian retirees named Lyn and Ken. They are rich and are obsessed with horseriding and rodeo stuff. They purchased many drinks for us and we convinced them to come to Nashville North with us, where they purchased MORE drinks for us and Steven attempted to show them how to two-step. They later invited me to go horseback riding in Banff and I accepted. They literally picked me up, drove me to Banff, we crushed two bottles of wine at the Park gin distillery, went on a three-hour horseback ride through the mountains, they drove me home and I paid for NONE OF IT. It was........ a day. I sat on my bed later and thought to myself, “that was fucking weird.” But now, if I ever go to Melbourne, I will hit them up. 
It was Ali’s birthday and we went camping in Waiparous. We took mushrooms on Saturday and just as they were beginning to fully kick in, the RCMP rolled in and kicked us out of our campsite. What a wild time to be faced with an interaction with the cops. Also - no one could drive except for two people who had stayed sober and they had to shuttle us to a new campsite. Have you ever tried setting up a tent on mushrooms? Do you know how difficult and hilarious it is? 
And lastly at the end of July, I went to Folk Fest. I saw Alvvays again. Front row! Like, against the barrier front row. It was awesome. It was folk fest that inspired me to cut my hair and get bangs again. No regrets. I love my bangs. I also experienced a level of street harassment that I didn’t know was possible from some random, innocent-seeming guy. It was terrifying. I called the police. No bueno. 
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August 
In August, I got promoted at my job and basically became a baby manager. It was better in theory than in practice because my shifts got longer, I made less in tips (but more hourly), and the cash out for a restaurant is a long and frustrating process that depends on a lot of small pieces working together correctly in a big ass spreadsheet and I suck at math.
In happier news – August was also the establishment of podcast club. Podcast club is one of the best and dorkiest things I have ever been involved with. We pick a podcast each week to listen to, and get together on Sunday mornings at 10:00am to discuss the contents of the podcast. It was initially open to whomever wanted to come but has since whittled down to a core group and at this point, we’re all so close that it would almost be weird to introduce a new person into the mix. There is Kendal, who I go to school with and who started the whole club. Her boyfriend, Mitch. Lachlan and Maddy who are siblings. Matt, a YouTuber who was kind of a wildcard. Chad, also kind of a wildcard but who works as a youth counsellor – and me! Podcast club has made my life infinitely better and is probably the best thing to come out of 2018, in all honesty.
I also got obsessed with Harry Potter and read like almost the whole series and my new at the time roommates thought I was such a loser because I would literally post up on the couch in the living room with a HP book and they would come back five hours later and I hadn’t moved and all I wanted to talk about was Harry Potter. 
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September / October / November 
I am lumping these three months together in this review because truly, they are lumped together in my mind and heart. 
On September 11, I started my first practicum at CommunityWise. I really had no idea what to expect when I started there but looking back, I cannot believe how hard I lucked out. The U of C is VERY clinically-based when it comes to how it educates and describes the practice of social work. CW was the opposite of it all and day-to-day so much happens there that it is honestly impossible not to get dragged in at such a deep level that it literally forces you to care. When I was in practicum, I did a lot of reading and I came across this concept of a “disorienting dilemma” which is “an experience within which a current understanding is found to be insufficient or incorrect and the learner struggles with the resulting conflict of views. Such experiences often are those to which learners point as the beginning of the process of questioning their understanding and views and entering the transformative learning process” (Source). Truly, being in that space over the course of 300 hours created this for me. I was forced to confront a lot of racist and otherwise problematic shit that I have been brought up with and that comes up in small ways for me that I try and quash down for the sake of saving face. Poverty, addiction, mental health issues showed up LITERALLY on the doorstep and I was thrown into it all. The experience was a disorienting dilemma and it shook me out of my bubble and I have never fallen so deeply in love with social work. My supervisor and I formed a VERY close relationship that probably broke some ethical and professional boundaries and she was there for me to discuss social issues and experiences I was having in an honest way that really deconstructed things. I had my debit card stolen by a client on one occasion, had to call the DOAP team because I witnessed people in overdose more times than I can count, had to talk many a person down from suicide, befriended a very mentally ill person who suffers from delusions that they are an alien in a human body sent here to observe earth and report back to their master. We had to kick someone out of a workshop for being racist. It was a wild ride, honestly. There were many many positive things to come out of practicum. I built my professional network in ways I never would have been able to, I was able to move out of the “student” realm and step into the role of a social worker and advocate and professional. I did a lot of public speaking! I was out in the community talking to a million different people. I made videos and posters. And the best part of all is that even when my practicum ended, my connection to CW did not. They have hired me on as a digital storytelling intern (paid!) for the new year. Which is a major confidence boost and I just love CW and everyone there so much. I will literally be forever grateful to them for taking me under their collective wing and showing me I have the skills and abilities to be an effective social worker :) 
Ahem. Now on to some not-so-good things... 
The end of October was kind of difficult because I was attempting to manage practicum responsibilities, actual class projects and homework, second-round practicum interviews, and Famoso. I was very stressed out and it was not good, especially because I got a rejection from one interview and didn’t even get an interview at my top choice. I was feeling very sorry for myself and may or may not have cried at my desk at practicum. It all worked out in the end though, and actually I was offered a placement at the first place I interviewed – they just took a while to get back to me. She called me to let me know this while I was on a run and being idiot me, I picked up… panting and gasping for air in Nose Hill Park. She was like, “We’d like to offer you the place… wait, are you okay?”
I would also like to just slide it in here that I slept with my ex in October. Which wasn’t a particularly momentous occasion and was actually kind of funny because it felt so much like a one night stand. I am mostly putting this in here because I don’t think many people know that and I want to see who reads this far.
Along similarish lines – I PUT MYSELF OUT THERE AND ASKED SOMEONE ON A STRAIGHT UP DATE AND GOT REJECTED AND IT WAS HONESTLY SO EMBARASSING AND BRUTAL and it’s okay now but oh… my god. This also happened around the same time as the rejections from practicum placements and I had such a bad night where I got drunk on my couch alone and Cayley brought me burnt ends from her new job at a brewery because she was #concerned for me and I didn’t want to be alone. That’s a true friend right there.
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December 
December is only halfway done - but I feel I can summarize it accurately. It has been a nice, tidy wrap up to the year. A month of podcasts, cleaning my house and my car and my life up, a mysterious knee injury that is really fucking me up, working a lot at Famoso, finishing my practicum and school semester. One thing I am dreading is that my brother’s girlfriend who our family is not particularly fond of will be joining us in Saskatoon this year. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. 
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In General 
2018 has been very stressful for me. But despite the stress, and sometimes out of it, have come some very nice, beautiful things. I said last year in my post that I wanted to become more deeply involved in my community and in activism and social work and in that way I think I have excelled. I’m in it now, you guys. I feel capable. I feel motivated. I feel CONFIDENT. And I’m fucking excited to see what comes in the future. 
I nearly doubled the amount of people I’ve slept with so that’s... a notable thing that happened this year. 
It has been nice to feel a return to a sense of belonging with my old high school group of friends. In a way, I feel more united with them than ever. I guess not having a partner that they all hate helps. But also, I think I’ve just been feeling more and more like myself. But to Connor, Steven, Matt, Adam and the assortment of new(er) members that come and go - I am very grateful for you all. It has also been good for my heart and soul to become so close with people from podcast club. It’s actually like... really hard to make new friends. Podcast club made it easy. And I found myself on a Friday night in Maddy and Ben’s apartment, watching cooking shows and teaching them how to play card games, laughing until I cried and drinking wine. And it’s like... who else gets together on EVERY Sunday morning to discuss podcasts? For fun? I know relationships change and dissolve and grow from each year to the next but I just have a deep feeling that some of these friendships are the real deal. And I’m really lucky. It sounds so ~fake deep~ and lame but honestly podcast club is making me a better, happier, less anxious person. 
2019: 
I think 2019 is going to have to be the year that I really, truly grow the fuck up. I’m not mad about this. I look forward to crushing through 400 more hours of practicum, graduating and getting my degree. Hopefully entering the work force for real (this prospect is honestly so exciting to me... I creep the job boards every day daydreaming about what I might eventually do when I leave the world of waitressing) and making some adult money. 
I also like... totally got fat in 2018 so 2019 will involve some activities to counterbalance this. AND I have a ticket to Big Valley Jamboree. Which is hilarious because I think if you asked 2015 Megan what she’d never do, it would be “go to BVJ” but here I am, ticket in hand, excitement mounting by the day. Boots on, bitches. 
Some of my goals or things I’d like to work on in 2019 are to become less attached to social media and more invested in the actual moment/doing of things rather than recording them (ironic as I type this MASSIVE year in review post, yes), to get into a healthy and sustainable pattern of exercise where I don’t just like become obsessed with it for a little while and then slowly taper off and then do none of it for like six months... and honestly? I want to download a bunch of those dating apps again and just go for it. I think you can learn so much about yourself through dating and I’ve been such a recluse this year for the most part because I have been sort-of-but-not seeing someone since literally JULY but we’re not actually together and I don’t know what’s going on. I just need to get over my own insecurities and anxiety and just jump in with both feet. It’ll be fun. It’ll be crazy. I’m excited. 
The rest of it, as always, is an open book. Who knows where I will be, what I will be doing, or who I will be doing it with by this time next year? Not I. 
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spidermando · 7 years
Text
Pilot - Plus One Series
Summary: What if the Winchesters had a plus one from the very start?
Pairing: None Yet
Warnings: Fighting
Word count: 900+
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Deep breaths, in, out, in and out. Despite the exam already being over, a feeling of dread washed over me. It was my final exam, the last one I’d ever do being a high school student. It would also determine my future, if I went to university or not, if I got a good job or not.
“Daisy, you’re literally the at the top of the class. You did fine!” My friend, Samantha, laughed, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “Get your bag out of your locker so we can head to MacDonald’s!”
Still filled with nerves, I headed to my locker and took my bag out, throwing it over my shoulder. Sam followed me, making conversation while she waited. Being as organised as she was, her bag was already slung over both shoulders, a small smile on her face.
“I mean, I like him but I don’t. You know?”
Humming in response, I continued to listen as we made our way to the others. Waiting for Sam to finish, I joined in on the conversation, as we left the school and headed down the main road. Slowly my nerves melted away, leaving a permeant smile on my face and bounce in my step.
The journey from school to the fast food restaurant was 40 minutes on feet, 10 by car. Despite the length, being bored wasn’t an option. To help pass the time, we often exchanged stories and played music through Dan’s UE Boom. Today was my turn to choose, so I connected my phone to the speaker and blared my favorite playlist.
‘Heat of the moment’ by Asia was the first to play, much to my friend’s dismay. Despite our close bond, they never liked the music I played. I never really minded, I liked it and that was all that mattered to me.
Our destination was in sight, meaning there was only another five minutes to go. Excited, I wrapped my arm around Sams shoulder, lip synching the lyrics to the song that was playing. We talked about graduation next week and how we were going to celebrate it with our families. I had no idea what I was doing, as my parents demanded to keep it a secret. They were always doing stuff like that, planning events and never telling me. It’s one of the reasons why I love them so much, despite what my words might say.
Finally, we made it across the road and into the parking lot. I felt Sam as she took my hand and tugged me in the other direction.
“Go ahead, we’ll catch up soon!”
Nodding, our friends continued into the restaurant, leaving us alone. Moving over to the side, I leaned on the wall.
“What’s up?”
Sam just stared at me for a moment, before lunging. A scream left my mouth as my body moved to the side, avoiding her talon-like fingernails. She paused a moment, looking at the concrete wall, before turning her head towards me.
Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was just my imagination, but I swear her eyes turned black, before returning to their normal blue colour. Another scream ripped through my throat, echoing off the walls and disappearing into the unknown.
Her teeth bared, before she jumped at me again. Narrowly avoiding her, a small crack sounded as she flew into the concrete wall. Slowly, she turned back to me. Blood was dripping from her awkwardly bent nose, dripping into her mouth.
Assuming she broke her nose, a small slither of satisfaction filled me. Karma, I guess. With a snarl on her face, she pounced at me again. I quickly dodged, but didn’t move fast enough as I felt her nails rip through the layers of my skin. A whimper left my mouth, as my hand went down to hold the now bleeding cut.
A chuckle left her mouth, causing me to furrow my eyebrows at her.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing. You’ve broken your nose and all I have is a little cut.”
My remark instantly ceased her laughing, leaving a blank look on her face.
“Touché.”
Our deadly game of cat and mouse continued, with me being the mouse and her being the cat. Somehow, I dodged most of her blows, only gaining a few more cuts and bruises that would surely be purple for days, if not weeks. I dare not further question her, too afraid for my own life to know what she was doing with hers.
For the first time, I threw a punch. The crack of my knuckles penetrating her right cheek bounced off the walls, disappearing into the quietness outside the alley. A shocked look passed her face, leaving her mouth open. A smug grin crossed my lips, satisfied with both my punch and her reaction. Sadly, my victory was short lived.
Suddenly, her hand grasped my throat, pulling up high enough that I was forced to stay on my tippy toes. She swung her arm, smashing me into the brown brick wall, forcing all the air out of my lungs in both surprise and pain.  My eyes closed, denying my tears from escaping.
Before I could regain my breath, her hand squeezed my throat, closing the small gap left in my oesophagus. My mouth opened wide, as I choked on the fleeting air. My blue eyes opened wide, as I stared at my future killer. Once again, her eyes turned black, and this time I knew it wasn’t just my imagination, or dark lighting.
The tears flowed freely down my cheeks, a symbol of my earlier residence crumbling around me. The black dots in the corner of my vision started closing in, and I knew there was no escaping this.
I heard a distant yell in the background, as the dots covered everything and left me in darkness. I felt her grip disappear, before my body fell lifelessly to the ground.
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