#like noooo. the point is that its old. the experience. how else am i supposed to pretend to be a gay emo boy in 2006 listening to futct.

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

I should probably get a little stand or a pretty box for my cd player to keep her safe. I have to protect her.

[donnerpartyofone]

reasons my i am probably too sensitive to have anything to do with other people

including other people’s drama that has absolutely nothing to do with me

i started reading this person’s new webcomic on instagram a month or two ago, and what started out as a fun little time killer that i looked forward to every day has started making me so uncomfortable that i wish i’d never heard of it. it takes place right now, in an especially embattled US city, and it’s about the dysfunctional lives of a bunch of shallow millennials, set against the backdrop of an increasingly dangerous country in an unpredictable state of revolt. it’s solidly engaging, convincingly characterized, and rendered in a unique funny animal style; i wasn’t surprised to discover that it’s going to be published soon by the most reputable publisher of this sort of thing. at first, i was impressed by it because i thought the behavior and dialog of its insecure young people was so well observed. it felt like one of the only things of its kind that i’ve read, more or less about real people living right now, that was neither a broad ugly satire, nor a pretentious drama exaggerating the specialness of its characters. the other thing i liked about it was that while it was largely about their sex lives, it didn’t seem at all sexy to me. the artist has a kind of distorted, rough-hewn visual style that i thought put some emotional distance between the overheated state of the characters, and the real consequences of their decisions. then it all got weird.

the artist stuck a really long, graphic sex scene in the middle of story that made me think...oh, maybe i AM supposed to be getting off to this? that’s weird, this all seems really bad to me, like every character is just mindlessly, selfishly bent on destruction and not doing much to make me like them, and i’d been reading along thinking “god i’m SO GLAD i’m not in my 20s anymore and i don’t have to deal with people like this--or with the pressure to act like this, as if using sex to create drama and being ‘crazy’ is the ultimate thing a person can do with their life”--and then suddenly it felt like maybe the comic was actually some kind of celebration of this lifestyle, or at the very least it’s an intensely sentimental portrait of a time of life, and of types of people, that i cannot imagine feeling sentimental about. then something else happened that made the comic even MORE uncomfortable to read, somehow: it had been gaining traction at an amazing pace, with tons of people leaving comments to the tune of “noooo don’t do it!”, the way you would yell at someone in a horror movie not to go back for the cat, as each character made the worst possible personal choice in every daily installment. the “don’t go in there!” response seemed pretty natural to me, but then the artist stepped in and made this announcement threatening to stop doing the comic altogether if the readers wouldn’t stop criticizing the characters. pretty much everyone in the comments was like “???”. many apologized if their comments were offensive, although they had no idea what they could have said that was wrong; other people, who seemed more sure that they were the ones being accused, said that they thought you were SUPPOSED to feel critical of the characters’ obviously bad decisions. that was how i felt, and at that point i was just enormously glad that i never comment on shit online or get involved in any type of community shit, especially when the artist started explaining laboriously that all of the characters represent some facet of the artist themselves and so therefore none of them are meant to be seen in a bad light at all and they’re all meant to be loved unconditionally and if you find yourself thinking mean things about the characters then you are effectively shitting all over the artist as a person. a lot of readers fell all over themselves to be supportive, and i just thought...this isn’t something you should support, though. it sucks that the artist is feeling so sensitive, but they’re about to have a book out in the world where they won’t have any ability to threaten readers who are “reading it wrong” or having incorrect thoughts about it. i mean...life is full of uncomfortable experiences and people you can’t relate to, i really don’t think we should be promoting this hopeless sanitization of all experiences in which trigger warnings used to be something that protected traumatized people from being randomly confronted with traumatic material, and now they’re used to just make sure nobody ever has to hear anything they don’t like, ever. anyone who cares about this artist should be helping them understand that they cannot control how people read their book or how they feel about each character and story in it. or failing that, they should be encouraged to just turn off instagram comments. but because of all this drama, i found myself reading all the comments obsessively--something i did when the blowup first happened, because i couldn’t find anything in there that i thought was mean or offensive, which added to my uncomfortable fascination with the whole thing--and that’s when i spotted a comment where somebody asked the artist is this was a furry comic. i wish this didn’t blow my mind, but it kind of did. i mean, it’s a book where almost all the characters are animals, and they occasionally have a bunch of raunchy sex. i think that if you’re a furry, meaning you’re interested in that sort of thing, this book is completely available for you to enjoy however you want. but this person needed the artist to FORMALLY CATEGORIZE IT as a furry comic. what the fuck is the meaning of that? it struck me as something that people in fandoms do, where they need every single thing to be labeled to death in an intensive and intractable way like it was science, the Final Word on everything in the universe, and they like *argue with each other* about whether they’re *allowed* to ship certain characters together or imagine them doing specific things, which is something you would only worry about if you thought the topic represented a literal material reality that could be adversely affected by people’s improper thoughts. i mean imagine if you felt that way about your jerkoff fantasies about fictional characters? that your horny thoughts are up for debate by hundreds of people you don’t even know? imagine feeling like that about OTHER PEOPLE’S jerkoff fantasies, like it’s worth fighting over and trying to CONTROL? like holy fucking shit you guys, STOP IT. it would even be one thing to ask the artist if THEY were a furry, which may or may not be anybody’s business, but to ask whether interpreting the comic through a furry lens is ALLOWED is like...well, actually, maybe it’s exactly in line with the artist’s recently expressed attitude, that you’re forced to think of the book in exactly the way that they personally think about it, or else you should have your reading privileges revoked. so now i’m still reading the comic, sort of compulsively, because i’m a little addicted to the soap opera of it and i’m ALSO a little addicted to the soap opera of the artist battling the readers over finding the correct orthodoxy for reading the comic--there’s a particular guy i’ve become aware of in the comics community because he is always harassing people with this mix of really caustic sarcasm and really bitter political self-righteousness, and he was surely the main person who was being “mean” to the characters, and HE’S STILL DOING IT IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY, because i guess the artist would rather have problems with people than simply block them and eliminate them from the equation? but the whole entire thing is making me so uncomfortable i can hardly stand it. reading about like, dumb hot chicks with no self-control, and smug young shitheads who use the veil of progressiveness to hide or justify their predatory sexual behavior, and grownass adults who start drama with 20 year olds in order to feel relevant, AND being forced to know that the artist intends for me to embrace and adore all of this bad shit--like, people and things i left behind in real life, because it was all bad!--with ultimate love and compassion, or else they reserve the right to claim that they’re being personally attacked, has just become too much to take. it’s starting to make me feel sick. i really need to take the reigns on this thing. as much as the artist needs to forget about this control fantasy and stop being so precious about what they’re doing, i need to stop subjecting myself to something i find painful, embarrassing, and frankly creepy, if i ever wanna get back to a state where i have less to complain about.

tl;dr: stupid hipster is too sensitive to read a webcomic by a stupid hipster who is too sensitive for anyone to read their webcomic.

[positivlyfocused]

Sometimes I Gotta Seethe In Rage

Three weeks ago I wrote how every negative situation is positive. Well this week brought such a crazy-ass example of that, I shared it with all my clients. Now I want to share it with you.

This story is hilarious. I almost wrote "unflattering", but you'll see at the end that this story flatters me in the sense that I saw how this infuriating situation was also a massive blessing.

Summer's sun, blue skies and Oregon's hot breezy air called me out again last weekend. I love working outside along the Willamette River shores. I enjoy Ospreys above and salmon jumping skyward likely avoiding sea lions and their chisel like teeth.

I decided I wanted more of that, so I packed my bike. I packed light, my portable chair, my iPad and nothing more. I planned to finish reading Ross Douthat's The Decadent Society, its insightful take on current reality had my attention for weeks now. I anticipated exploring Douthat's take while enjoying the Oregon summer.

^^The usual spot I work from on summer Oregon days...by the Willamette's beautiful shores... 

That's not what happened though

Oregon's governor recently eased lockdown mandates. With her decree, all of Oregon made similar plans. I expected a few people riverside, but wasn't prepared for crowds that showed up.

A forty minute bike ride turned into an hour while I tried finding suitable, solitary rest stop. I finally decided on a rocky shore devoid of human for lack of any sand. But I had my chair. I didn't need sand.

I parked my bike, set up my chair then settled into Douthat's narrative. Thirty minutes later, a couple with two dogs showed up. The young, tattooed Portlanders led their dogs to the water's edge, unleashed them and threw tennis balls into the river. The larger of the two dogs, a pit-bull, leapt into the water while its smaller puppy companion barked in envy. Then the puppy eased into the water, found it agreeable and went for a swim. I smiled then turned back to Douthat.

Minutes later, the puppy was licking at my bare legs. I'm not a dog person, but I can appreciate a cute pooch. On this day though, I just wanted to read in quiet on a beautiful day. It annoyed me that this dog suddenly was licking my leg. But what annoyed me more was the fact that its owner hadn't done his legal duty of keeping his dog under control.

I lifted my legs away from the pooch, clearly annoyed, which the owner saw. He came bounding to my rescue, scooped up his dog with an apology and returned to his spot. There, he put it on a leash. His partner too re-leashed the Pit-bull.

All that was nice. But it was too late.

I got hooked in frustration-momentum

Momentum is a powerful thing. Especially negative momentum born of oft-told stories. I've harbored negative stories about dog owners who don't keep their dogs leashed and therefore under control as leash laws mandate. So much so it's one of my "pet peeves" (oh god! no pun intended!).

Recently when I read about a "Karen" from Central Park Manhattan who made a racist false police report against a fellow New Yorker who politely asked her to leash her dog in an area where a leash law was in force. The fellow New Yorker, a board member of the New York City Audubon Society who happens to be African American, recorded the whole incident. The recording went viral and popular outrage caused the woman to lose her job and her dog. Reportedly, New York is considering banning her permanently from Central Park and the District Attorney is considering pressing charges against her for making a false police report.

This story came to mind as that puppy slimed me. When its owner grabbed it and apologized, I mused whether he also thought about that Central Park incident.

The problem was, I didn't shake the association, which would have been in my best interest. Comparing my experience to what happened to the Audubon Board Member wasn't really fair. But old stories about my pet peeve combined with that viral Central Park experience in my head creating momentum that swept me up.

For the next half hour I couldn't focus on my reading. My mind swirled around the association, my indignation, my annoyance and frustration....

^^I don't hate dogs. Dogs love me as much as I love them...sometimes...��

What happened next was no surprise

The couple decided to pack up and leave, having I suppose, had enough time at the water's edge. As they walked to the bike path, I heard the woman say to someone I couldn't see "Sir, would you mind leashing your dog?"

The irony didn't escape me. "Cosmic Justice" I thought. Little did I know said justice was just getting started...

I couldn't hear the what the person she addressed said, but I heard what she was saying. I also got the annoyance in her tone:

"Why aren't you willing to put your dog on a leash sir?" She asked. I turned, hoping to see who she addressed. I couldn't see that person. She continued.

"My dog isn't friendly," she said. The person said something I didn't hear.

"How many years have you been around my dog sir?" She replied. "I'm telling you my dog is not friendly."

Apparently whoever she addressed had done nothing, so she reached down, picked up what looked like a 40 pound pit-bull and scrambled over rocks the rest of the way to the bike path with her male companion in tow.

I was thinking about karmic kickback, wondering how the couple felt now since they themselves hadn't controlled their (little) dog. Which is why I hadn't noticed that not seconds later another dog was sniffing at my leg!

It's my turn...

I turned in surprise, saw the Husky, then darted around looking for the owner. Presumably this was the same person the young woman spoke with earlier. Finally I saw him sitting in a chair he set up behind me on the bike path's edge.

My indignance increased. "Really?" I thought. "Twice in a row?" What did I expect? I create my reality. Here was the Universe serving me a big pile of pet peeve....a second helping if you will, this time via a Husky and yet another irresponsible owner.

But wait...it gets worse. Or rather, I got worse.

I should have known trying to get the owner to do anything about his scofflaw dog would be futile. After all I saw that play out just seconds ago. Never the less:

"Sir, would you please come get your dog!" I said with force ten annoyance.

The owner looked down at me, at his dog and said "he's alright."

"I'm not!" I said.

The owner said nothing.

At that, I'd had it!

Now I was fully in rage. That's right, I was so angry, I was shaking. I wanted to strangle that damn dog and murder the owner. But I also knew it wasn't the dog's fault. So I directed all my rage (in my mind) at the owner. I wanted to first strangle him, then murder him!

I should mention I had the presence of mind at this moment to see the ironic humor here. A part of me knew what I was doing was ridiculous. It's just a dog. But the principle folks, and the momentum of my pet peeve had me firm in its grip.

Clearly this guy wasn't going to do anything about his dog. There was no way I could recover my state of calm at this point, not to mention focusing on Douthat's prose. I decided then to gather my things and head home in a huff, which took all but a couple minutes.

But I couldn't let it end that way. Noooo.

As I pushed my bike up to the bike trail, I made my "offender" clearly: white male in his 40s, beer in hand, listening to a transistor radio, minding his own business and cool as a 🥒. Perfect contrast to my seething rage, which at this point, boiled over and out my mouth:

"YOU'RE EXACTLY THE KIND OF PERSON WHO GIVES DOG OWNERS A BAD NAME!" I yelled in his general direction. I hopped on my bike and peeled away on the momentum of my righteous indignation. 😂🤣😊

That wasn't the end of it.

A half-mile into my return trip, it struck me. What happened here? Why am I letting this situation shape how I feel? How I feel is more important than how I'm treated. In fact, I know by choosing how I interpret what happens in my life, I can create reality. Here I was doing what a noob at all this "you create your reality" business would do...

At this point, I should stop and say I know sometimes I'm going to get pissed. It's just part of what happens when an eternal being comes into physical reality.

Thinking an enlightened person doesn't get mad sometimes indicates misunderstanding about how physical reality works. Physical reality intentionally offers variety: things I want and things I don't want. After all, how am I to know what I want if I don't know what I don't want?

How am I to know what thoughts feel better than others, if I don't have a negative experience every now and then?

That's what I thought one half mile into my return ride. And that's when I decided I had the power here. I had choice.

So instead of continuing to seethe, I decided to put my attention on something else. Something more pleasing. So I noticed the blue sky. I noticed the green trees. I noticed how much I like riding my bike, how good the sun felt on my bare legs and arms, how good it feels on a Oregon summer day. In seconds I felt better. My feelings reminded me how wonderful it is working from Oregon's riversides:

That's when something amazing happened

The more I thought these thoughts, the better I felt. Then...

Ever had an experience where something happens, you react in a less than ideal way, then, later, you get a thought, an idea, an alternative way you could have responded that might have been more effective?

Well that's what happened. In my increasing happiness I received an alternative scenario that played out in my mind. Rather than throwing a tantrum at the guy, I saw my self calmly rise, gather my things and my chair, walk up to the guy and set up my chair right next to him. So close our chairs touched side by side. Then I sat down, looked at him and began politely talking his ear off.

That's when I burst out laughing, a belly laugh so strong it obliterated my anger. I let this alternative reality play through my mind, adding humorous bits here and there – I saw him looking at me surprised, then trying to ignore me, then suddenly packing up his things and stomping off, dog in tow off leash. I imagined him and I actually having a friendly conversation, chatting away like best friends. I imagined him and I sitting there, me chatting away and he trying to ignore my chatting tsunami in quiet annoyance...

And you know what happened next? The entire situation changed for me. No longer did I see him as the idiot epitome of bad dog ownership. Instead he became a shining example of what I could be.

Consider this:

This guy was doing his own thing, oblivious to what others thought and said about him

This guy was in his own reality, enjoying his life with his dog. So was the dog!

This guy had presence of mind, a centeredness so powerful, he appeared unphased by not only one, but two verbal aggressors trying to knock him off his rocker

As much as I want to vilify him, he demonstrated to me vibrational mastery. And at that point he went from villain to teacher.

I want to be like that. I want to be calm in the face of storms.

And, in fact I am, nearly all the time.

Which is another thing he taught me: that I am that nearly all the time.  When I'm not, there's always something great in the experience I learn about myself and about my Positively Focused practice.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Diligence: Moderation - Gerry x Reader (Mississippi Grind)

🎉 YOU ARE FINALLY OUT OF MY DRAFTS GERRY!!! FINALLY!!! 🎉

Author’s Note: Requested by @sufferthesea ❤😘 And... I’m so so so so so SO sorry it’s taken me so long! Considering you requested as soon as I opened them up!

OH GOD! How dare you make me chose between Gerry and Danny this song is just SO GOOD for both of them depending on how you interpret it. But... This is where we’ve ended up..! I hope you enjoy my decision! 💙💜🙊

I couldn’t have done this without @3134045126 - I wrote 800 words of this when it was requested and... it stayed at 800 words. Because I wasn’t feeling it. Thanks to discussions with her she inspired a brand new idea (and much happier I gotta say!) and this was born. Although, I’m not gonna lie, it took me a while and life experience to put it down on paper Considering the sweet Sufferthesea sent this to me as a song: Moderation by Florence + the Machine should probably be the place you go first...!

Disclaimer: Mississippi Grind (& associated characters!) not mine! Lyrics (and song idea!) also not mine!

Premise: Having sworn himself off Gambling his life away... Gerry needs something new to fixate on... Words: 2889

Warnings: Angst (my old friend!) / 

Want me to love you in moderation Do I look moderate to you? Sip it slowly and pay attention I just have to see it through You got me looking for validation Passion's new Want me to love you in moderation Well, who do you think you're talking to?

And little girl, who do you think you are? You think you need it, you think you want love You wouldn't want it if you knew what it was

I've never made it with moderation No, I've never understood All the feeling was all or nothing And I took everything I could Can't hold it back, I can't take the tension Oh, I'm trying to be good

I don't see the worth And I'm still try'na figure out if it Always, always, always has to hurt

---

noun

     1. careful and persistent work or effort.      2. the avoidance of excess or extremes, especially in one's behaviour or         political opinions

Gerry was obsessed. When wasn’t he? Obsessed with the game. With winning. With that hit gambling gave. He hadn’t known that kind of rush, been able to get that kind of fix from anything else. But he had promised… Curtis, his daughter... himself that he was done. That this time cleaning up his life really meant just that. There was only one problem. YOU. All that nervous energy, that need to obsess and want something so badly... that kick... he’d poured it all into you.

You didn’t know this yet. In fact he’d barely worked up the courage to talk to you yet. He liked that. The almost. Every conversation you had had been initiated by yourself - short, sweet... everything her craved... and yet never long enough. He would sit in the corner of the cafe you worked in and just watch you. He felt a little safer sitting all the way back here; like he could deny he was doing what he was doing. But he did it often enough for you to one day ask if he had an office that he could work from. Whereupon he blushed and looked to the table with a nervous giggle; “I guess so...”

Trouble was, he was never productive in the office... because he could only think of you. Whenever he had to go back to showing people around houses he would make sure to stop by for a coffee either on the way or on the way back; just so he could see you. You’d become accustomed to this routine so much that you had his order ready for him the second you saw his car pull up in the lot. But he’d always make sure to stop and talk to you for a little while, even when he knew he was running slightly late.

The worst days were when you weren’t working. Or on occasion you would swap tables with someone else, and suddenly he wasn’t waited on by you.  That felt as bad as losing did. Only he supposed he wasn’t losing money; so it should have been better. The problem was it toyed with his emotions, so it felt worse. Sometimes you would catch his eye and smile even when you weren’t waiting him. And he liked that.  You loved the smile he gave back too; his pretty blue eyes, the sweaters sometimes you wished you could wrap yourself up in. It was a strange thing to think about someone you barely knew. But you thought it all the same.

Gerry didn’t like it when you turned that smile on someone else; because sometimes he felt that it was just for him. But, what if it wasn’t? What if every joking comment you made him wasn’t cute and flirty? What if it was something you just did? Because you were kind and gentle... not because you might actually like him. What if you didn’t really notice him at all? Sometimes you were so busy you didn’t even acknowledge him, and then that hurt even more. Because what if everything else was just because of circumstance? What if he didn’t really matter to you at all...?

He guessed he could walk away at any time, and nothing was keeping him coming back. But Gerry couldn’t walk away without knowing. He had to know. That was like walking away from a table... you can’t walk away when the odds could still swing in your favour (not that they did that often in Gerry’s experience, but there was always that chance), even if the game is over there’s still an opportunity to play one more round. Although, the point was he was trying not to play games here. But you... made them so hard to resist. But the tables so easy to leave...

 So he started staying on your shifts until closing. And because this was both new and something that you’d witnessed on 5 consecutive evenings, you started to worry. For him, and for his intentions; “Gerry... you know this is the fifth time you’ve stayed this week right? Is everything okay?” “Yeah... Yeah... everything’s fine...” He slid his laptop closed and looked to you; that same utterly adorable smile you couldn’t help but fall for. “Are you sure? Will you be here tomorrow night too? I’m worried...” “Oh you... don’t need to worry about me...” He bit his lip and looked away from you “Can I, uh... get one more coffee?” “Coffee?” You repeated slowly “at this time of day?” “Mm hm.” You sighed gently; “Okay. Sure... but then you gotta leave... it’s past closing time and I gotta get home...” “W...Well why don’t you have one with me?” It was about the most confident thing he’d said “No...” Ouch-! “I’m okay... but... that’s sweet, thank you...” “Well then come sit with me...” “Gerry I gotta clear up...” you headed back to the counter “I’ll bring it over though.” “No-! That’s okay I can come sit up by you.” He stood “Gerry it’s okay I can..” you didn’t have the opportunity to finish by the time he was within inches of you. And even he realised that was a little too close. “Sorry...” He lowered those blue eyes to the floor and ran a hand through his hair, bashful. You searched his face for a minute; what was going on with him? “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Y-Yeah... Everything is fine...” he flushed and you got the picture; everything was both fine and far from fine... and that was your fault.

You shook your head and took his hands in yours; which snapped his eyes immediately back to yours; “Come on… Sit down… I’ll get you a drink…” Gerry sat tentatively at the bar, tapping his fingers nervously on the surface; “You sure you want coffee? You look like you could use something a little stronger…” You pulled down a mug and set about making something for him. You had just the thing. “…Why, do you have anything stronger-?!” You laughed to yourself; “Noooo…! Why, what’s your poison?” “Oh, uh… Woodford is pretty good.” “Bourbon-!?” You turned and studied him for a minute “Mmm… I can see that…” You finished mixing your concoction and placed it in front of him; “Oh. Is that hot chocolate?” “Mmm hmmm.” You leant on the counter with a smile; “You look like you need it.” “Thank you…” His voice was so gentle and again his look away from you was shy. You felt you could both be skipping around feelings here. And yet both of you were apparently okay with doing this…

“Gerry…” Your voice was soft and calm, “You had me real worried for a minute…” He attempted to take a sip but it turned into a gulp and the too hot liquid burned, making him wince; “…Oh…?” You leant on your hands and tilted your head; “What’s wrong… Tell me what’s wrong…” He laughed, but it wasn’t genuine “What isn’t wrong.” He turned away from you for a minute “…I dunno… Maybe you should just ignore me… Maybe its nothing…” “Gerry…” You were gentle again, placing a hand on his arm “Talk to me… Is it me? It kinda feels like it’s me…” Maybe you should bite the bullet on this one. Maybe you had done something without realising, or maybe he was just reading into something too much. “No… You? You’re kidding… It’s just I…”He shook his head; removed your hand from his arm, but, kept it in his own “I am NO good for you…” It felt like rejection. It was painful. Even though you know he’d meant it to warn you away. Even though he’d not actually told you that he had any feelings for you yet he clearly did; you wondered if he’d even realised he’d not outright said it “Gerry… Do you have a crush on me?”

He opened his mouth and then hesitated; had he not already… made that obvious? Wait, no, he hadn’t yet told you-!? SHOOT! He began tripping on words; his heart screaming at him to say yes; but the temptation to deny it too great. You hushed him gently; “Sweetie, calm down… It’s okay…I don’t mind…” “You should…!!” Gerry slipped his hand from yours, looking like he’d just said a million things he wished he hadn’t “I’m no good for anyone…” He twisted back to the bar and picked up his mug again. “Why?” You leant back on your hands; “I think you’re kinda cute.” “W-“ He paused and looked at you uncertainly for a minute; “You do?” You nodded “Mmm hmmm… But now I completely understand why you watch me so much…” “You noticed-!?” pink dusted his cheeks, making you giggle; “Yeah, I noticed…” He tilted his head; you were suddenly unfathomable, and he had to let you know that; “…But you… I don’t get it… I don’t think I understand… you…” You raised an eyebrow “Why?” He shifted in his seat, almost nervously “Because… You… Somehow you make me want to keep straight… And… it’s not fair on you for me to-” “Gerry, hold on a second… Me?! I… Me?!” You weren’t exactly sure how to react to that. Seconds ago he’d basically been telling you the reasons you shouldn’t want to love him. Now he was telling you that because he had feelings for you; that he was trying to be a better person for you, he was sitting at your tables, and not gambling tables.  It wasn’t like you could help that you had fallen for him. It hadn’t exactly been something you’d had control over.

“Y/N…” He laced his free hand with yours, leaning closer to you he lowered his voice “…I can’t… DO things in half measures…” His eyes flicked to several of the tables “…I’m not. I’m not a moderate person. It’s intense… And I don’t think I can put you through a thing like that.” That sentence came with a promise. That his love would also contain no moderation. Was that not what love was about, though? Love wasn’t meant to be moderate? Was it? Wasn’t it meant to be a no-holds-barred thrill ride? Intensity… That was a whole part of it wasn’t it? He almost laughed; “You’re gonna get nothing but trouble…” He grinned “I’m sure you’re not gonna put up with that more than once.” Finally he made you laugh “It just, sounds like you need some diligence.” “Oh- uh huh! And where do I get that.” You gave a gentle shrug; "Well, I mean I studied psychology..." you pushed yourself forward on your elbows "So maybe I can listen and help out..." "Like a therapist?" "Haha-! If you think a therapist would help you...! I'm not qualified though!"  you leant on your hands with a smile at the intrigue on his face; "I dunno, I think you'd be more than capable of... Listening to my problems... Though I don't know if I particularly want to burden you with them..." "Nonsense..." your next smile was encouraging "Besides, I like the sound of your voice..." There was that nervous, jumpy flicker across his face again. Cause and effect "Y- You do?" "Mmmm..."

So he began his story. Shortened considerably, he told you about his gambling habit, meeting his lucky charm, and setting out across the Mississippi, culminating in winning a hell of a lot of money... But also his constant fear that he'd not be able to resist the pull back. But you realised, as he talked, and as he hinted, and his eyes almost pleaded with you to understand, Gerry had a new pull now. And it was the reason he was always here. Not moderate indeed. It bordered fixation... But healthier than his other one. Still, he'd also sat here and tried to give you a bunch of warnings. Self-deprecating warnings that would impede his goal. Just like gambling... With his feelings not his money... Could you date a man like that? Could you let yourself pass up this chance? That was just as big a question. He hadn't asked it of you yet, but it was hanging in the air. That he could get those words out. That he could really confess. Maybe that would be a gamble too far... You wish you could tell him it would be worth it. Part of you didn't want to influence this. If it became something more would all that energy be poured into your relationship? Into love for you? Or would that obsession grow too much... Or manifest itself elsewhere?

* 

It was long after closing by the time you both even had the inclination to look at the time. "Oh my god! D-did you have to be anywhere?" Gerry looked slightly horrified that he'd kept you, even though you had told him one more drink and he had to be gone. Considering how closely you had watched him drink it, he must have finished hours ago. You chuckled, "Nowhere more important than here... " "But somewhere-!?" "Doesn’t matter now, does it. Gerry don't worry about it. I'm happy I got to spend time here with you." His smile was bashful and you liked that, he was just so cute. "Thank you... It was good spending time with you too..." He slid off the bar stool and collected his things; "Guess I might be back tomorrow... Anyway?" You laughed, rounding the bar to him; "Ahhh-! You’ll be disappointed I don't work again until Thursday." "What-!? What am I gonna do for 3 days-!" Although he said it jokingly, and then laughed "Well, it's good you have some days off you deserve it... Guess I might see you Thursday then." "Oh," you gave him a sweet smile "I'm counting on it..." There was that blush again, and this time when he bit his lips together he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. And this time it was you who was making that gap too small; but it was comfortable now, there was no too close about it. The first move became all yours as you wrapped your arms around him; he tensed and jumped all at once – even though you moved slow – to feel your embrace like this. You tried not to giggle into his shoulder as he dropped his bag; holding him there as you snuggled into him. If you’d imagined it even half as much as you thought you had – it was just as good in real life. Hesitantly he moved his arms around under yours; and soon they were wound around you. That only made you pull him closer – revelling in the warmth of his body against yours. And if that was the way you were feeling... If Gerry’s heart was anything to go by, and you could feel it here… Everything was blank – his brain and his heart. Although his heart was beating on overdrive and it felt as good as knowing he was just about to deal the winning hand. He simultaneously wanted to push you away and pull you desperately closer and never let go. And oh, OH, it felt so good-! It was only when you ran your hands into his hair that he let out a noise; somewhere between a soft sigh and a whine it was barely audible but it was there as he melted into you. “It’s okay…” You murmured it; “It’s all going to be okay…”

 You let him go far too soon, and you both knew it. And that proximity left heat in both your cheeks. Your head was rushing and you thought for a moment that your idea maybe wasn't such a great one... You walked him to the door, slowly. It’d already been about half an hour since he'd said he better leave. It didn't matter to you, now you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. "So..." Gerry turned at the door, stepping down and out into the street "Thursday? I'll be here..." You nodded "I hope so...!" He smiled and began walking away but you took his hand and pulled him back "Gerry, wait..." you held him there for a minute; and he couldn't help but entwine his fingers with yours - it was instinctive... Something he ached for. "Call me...." This time he just let himself smile at the piece of paper he could feel transferring from your hand to his; “…if you ever need some diligence…” “Call you?” “I’d like a little moderation myself.” You gave a wink as you unlaced your fingers from his and folded your arms “Maybe we can figure this one out together?” He smile turned into a grin and he laughed, truly laughed “I’d… like that a lot.” “Good, cuz I don’t know who else is going to take care of you. But I better be making sure someone does it.” That had him looking away from you again, but the blue in his eyes was considerably brighter this time; “Thank you…” You stood in the doorway of the café watching him leave, and he turned back to wave as he stepped into his car, making you smile and offer him one back; Oh, Gerry…  you shook your head, loving the way you could now feel your heart beating, because he had done that… Warning or no, I want the chance to love you anyway…

---

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING! And oh my god, once again I’m so sorry this took an age! I hope he was worth the wait 😘😘

3 Virtues down! 💜💙

@multifandom-writings - Appropriate as you asked for him!

@dennismitchell @krnncsbtch @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad.