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thejusticelounge2014-12-31 06:19 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2014-12-31 06:19 pm
Entry tags:
cohabitation
O: So, I’ve got a cat now.
K: She’s a good cat.
O: Did you meet her? She’s so fucking demanding. I thought she might nip your ankles or something.
K: Demanding? Are we talking about the same cat? Or maybe she’s just being nice to me until I displease her.
O Maybe she’s waiting until five in the morning to jump on your chest, kneading and drooling and making weird little harsh meows.
K: Honey, that’s pretty standard for cats.
K: You know, all ‘large blond human, I require sustenance’.
O: If my mom’s Emma had done that she woulda crushed me. But I guess they don’t do it to kids. Kids have nothing they want.
K: You aren’t in charge. They know who’s In Charge, cats. My abuela had a cat for a while.
O: *grins* She had a cat, or a cat had her?
K: Both, I think. They were both strong willed as hell.
O: *picks up his cat, who happens to be strolling by* We need to introduce her to Bou. *the cat yowls and waves her feet until he puts her down again*
K: *is trying not to smile, between the memory of Lalo the cat and the current Ollie/kitten dynamic* You want me to call her in?
O: Sure, why not? No time like the present. *picks Emma up again, better this time, so she doesn’t instantly hate it*
K: *grins and whistles for the puppy, who, after a moment, trots in slowly, then catches a sniff of the cat and pauses mid-stride in confusion; Kate calls for her again, and she somewhat reluctantly pads over to her, getting a scratch behind her ears for good measure*
O: *holds Emma firmly* Uh. I guess we should just let them co-exist in the same space for a while until they feel comfortable? *he looks over at Kate, then gives a wry grin*
K: Who’s a good girl—si, se usted. *gently strokes Bou’s head until she calms a little and starts looking around with gormless curiosity* I think they’ll be okay.
K: Seeing as there isn’t immediate wrath.
O: *relaxes back on the sofa with his cat, who settles in against his stomach* Our beachhouse is gone. *his voice is a little stark when he says it*
K: *looks up at him, biting her lip—this is the kind that’s a sharp deep bite, not the slow drag of thoughtfulness or the brief momentary tang of pleasure—the kind that’s pain to distract from other pain; Bou momentarily forgets about Emma to press her nose into the crook of Kate’s elbow in comfort* I know. I…did he tell you about the lake?
O: *leans his head back, some obstinacy in his response* It won’t be the same. It won’t be where we did everything. Where we started /being/ “we”.
K: The new place…it’ll be ours. From start to finish. It’s not a replacement, just…building something new. They can’t take what we made in the beach house away, though. Ever.
O: I know. I know, I know. And we get to all choose what goes in it this time. It’s not entirely bad. *heaves a sigh* But it’s not our beachhouse.
K: *Bou pokes her head back out of Kate’s arms to appraise Ollie and Emma thoughtfully, while Kate speaks* I know it’s not. And I’m hurt as hell that it’s gone. But…the best part of it’s always been remembering, for me. *because it has—the thought of their first night there still makes her head swim and her heart pound*
O: *after a moment* I’m just sick of losing things. This is why I tried to never get too attached to anyplace after my … *shakes his head* It’s too goddamn hard to start feeling like it’s okay to think of someplace as home and then have it /not/ be.
K: *softly* I hear you, cielo. It’s why I don’t really make places be home. People are home instead, I think, for me now.
K: *can’t really bear to sit down here anymore, and gets to her feet, sitting next to him on the sofa, though she’s letting him (and, to be brutally honest, mostly Emma) dictate if there’s touching*
O: *Emma looks over, but her eyes are half closed and dull and she seems fine, purring away* Yeah. Well. I don’t do that either, in case people don’t stay. *adds in a slightly bitter undertone* …or /I/ don’t stay. God knows that’s always a possibility.
K: *puts her hand on his hip, gentle but firm* No one’s not going to stay. Someone might use double negatives, but other than that…
O: *snorts, but it’s in amusement* All right. Okay. I guess I’m just a little lopsided lately. Mood-wise.
K: You’re entirely allowed to feel that way, you know.
K: None of us should snap back to where we were instantly. It wouldn’t be…it’d be wrong. *deeply, inherently wrong*
O: Yeah. I… *looks over at her as Emma moves, turning around and resting with her forepaws stretched out on Kate’s arm* I’m sorry about what happened with your mom. I mean it’s shitty about your dad too, but he was always shit. I mean… *he twists his mouth, unsure* I don’t know if I should be talking to you about it, or if you consider this some kind of catharsis.
K: *offers Emma her fingertips to sniff before she tries touching her* I… *she considers for a moment, looking back at Ollie finally, in the eye* I don’t know what it is. I don’t mind talking about it, I just…maybe it’s just that it almost seems unreal in my mind, like a dream with physical consequences.
K: It’s like I made it that way to cope with it all, that it’s all so big that if I actually thought about it I’d fall apart. and maybe I’m weaker than I thought.
O: I don’t think it’s about weakness, Kate. It’s about scope, and having to deal with trauma that you put away because you didn’t have the capability to deal with it at the time. *he watches as Emma settles half onto Kate, getting her dull expression again* I think you need to start unraveling it. Just, y’know, knowing that you have Bruce and me here to support you, however it turns out. However it makes you feel.
K: *gently strokes Emma just behind the ears, only with her fingertips, as Bou nuzzles into Ollie’s leg* I…okay. Because I don’t want…it shouldn’t be all about me, Ollie. My story’s only part of it, and my ability to cope…doesn’t negate where I’ve behaved badly.
O: *stroking along Bou’s side with his foot, skritching her with his toes* I don’t want to have to fight for it. I mean, I know I fight for everything, even when I /don’t/ have to, but this… *he looks slightly pained, half embarrassed* It’s hard for me. If I have to keep reminding you or keep asking or keep … it’s hard enough to bring it up at all. I can’t keep doing it. I don’t want to have to fight to make this stuff important to you. *his voice is as raw and naked as she’s ever heard it, a different kind of vulnerability than the times it’s happened while they were having sex*
K: *bites down hard on her lip again, almost drawing blood* It’s…you’re always important to me. Always. Even if I suck at showing it, and I need to work on that—but if you’re hurting then nothing is right with me either, because you’re en mi sangre, And part of this that’s been so damn bad is knowing that’s true and not being able to talk about it, pushing everything down, for myself and everyone else, to keep walking through the day.
O: *gestures in frustration* Yeah, but, see — Kate, our lives are always gonna be like that! There’s always gonna be some godawful thing that pops up outta nowhere and blindsides us, and I need to know that even when it’s /hard/ and it’s taking all your effort to keep going, you’re gonna be there for me. Because otherwise you’re not pushing it down for my sake. Because it won’t help me if you do.
K: *is quiet, chastened, for a long moment* Yeah. And maybe that’s why you’re right. Why I should pick the parents thing apart a little more. Because otherwise… *otherwise she just will continue to bury it and keep going*
O: *turns on the sofa, the cat protesting slightly before jumping down out of the way so Ollie can take Kate’s hands* Because otherwise it won’t help anybody. I don’t need you to be perfectly right about everything all the time. You aren’t. You can’t possibly be. And I don’t need you to be strong for my sake or any of that. All I want is my wife and partner trying her best for me and not shutting me out or shutting down. Because I try my damnedest to be there for you too, Kate. You and Bruce. *squeezes her hands, clasping her wrists together* I just want you to try. You don’t need to even succeed.
K: I can definitely try. *squeezes his hands, even as Emma grumpily digs her claws into their thought a little bit* I just…do you have any idea where to start?
O: For you? With your parents, you mean?
K: Yeah. I mean…it’s so damn big. *though maybe she means more than just her parents, maybe it’s the whole damn burying of things*
O: *contemplates* Well. I mean, maybe you should start with your dad. He’s the more awful part of this and you probably … I mean, you probably have a lot of memories about him and what he was like that you’ve repressed and packed away. But there might be patterns there that could help you figure the rest of it out.
K: Mm. Patterns about him or about me… *she strokes his wrist with her thumb, comforting herself with the small gesture and the lightness of the touch* I guess both.
O: *nods* The one affects the other. I’m starting to clear through some of my blank-outs too. It’s nothing I /want/ to remember, but it … helps, in a way. To know all the things I went through.
K: To have reference instead of nothing…yeah, I know what you mean. *shifts to rest her head against his shoulder*
O: So yeah. No more of this lone wolf crap. If I can change to be less self-destructive because you wanted me to, then you can change to be less tight-lipped about shit you shouldn’t be.
O: *jiggles her head with his shoulder to emphasize, then kisses her hair*
K: Lone wolf with pack, then.
K: She’s a good cat.
O: Did you meet her? She’s so fucking demanding. I thought she might nip your ankles or something.
K: Demanding? Are we talking about the same cat? Or maybe she’s just being nice to me until I displease her.
O Maybe she’s waiting until five in the morning to jump on your chest, kneading and drooling and making weird little harsh meows.
K: Honey, that’s pretty standard for cats.
K: You know, all ‘large blond human, I require sustenance’.
O: If my mom’s Emma had done that she woulda crushed me. But I guess they don’t do it to kids. Kids have nothing they want.
K: You aren’t in charge. They know who’s In Charge, cats. My abuela had a cat for a while.
O: *grins* She had a cat, or a cat had her?
K: Both, I think. They were both strong willed as hell.
O: *picks up his cat, who happens to be strolling by* We need to introduce her to Bou. *the cat yowls and waves her feet until he puts her down again*
K: *is trying not to smile, between the memory of Lalo the cat and the current Ollie/kitten dynamic* You want me to call her in?
O: Sure, why not? No time like the present. *picks Emma up again, better this time, so she doesn’t instantly hate it*
K: *grins and whistles for the puppy, who, after a moment, trots in slowly, then catches a sniff of the cat and pauses mid-stride in confusion; Kate calls for her again, and she somewhat reluctantly pads over to her, getting a scratch behind her ears for good measure*
O: *holds Emma firmly* Uh. I guess we should just let them co-exist in the same space for a while until they feel comfortable? *he looks over at Kate, then gives a wry grin*
K: Who’s a good girl—si, se usted. *gently strokes Bou’s head until she calms a little and starts looking around with gormless curiosity* I think they’ll be okay.
K: Seeing as there isn’t immediate wrath.
O: *relaxes back on the sofa with his cat, who settles in against his stomach* Our beachhouse is gone. *his voice is a little stark when he says it*
K: *looks up at him, biting her lip—this is the kind that’s a sharp deep bite, not the slow drag of thoughtfulness or the brief momentary tang of pleasure—the kind that’s pain to distract from other pain; Bou momentarily forgets about Emma to press her nose into the crook of Kate’s elbow in comfort* I know. I…did he tell you about the lake?
O: *leans his head back, some obstinacy in his response* It won’t be the same. It won’t be where we did everything. Where we started /being/ “we”.
K: The new place…it’ll be ours. From start to finish. It’s not a replacement, just…building something new. They can’t take what we made in the beach house away, though. Ever.
O: I know. I know, I know. And we get to all choose what goes in it this time. It’s not entirely bad. *heaves a sigh* But it’s not our beachhouse.
K: *Bou pokes her head back out of Kate’s arms to appraise Ollie and Emma thoughtfully, while Kate speaks* I know it’s not. And I’m hurt as hell that it’s gone. But…the best part of it’s always been remembering, for me. *because it has—the thought of their first night there still makes her head swim and her heart pound*
O: *after a moment* I’m just sick of losing things. This is why I tried to never get too attached to anyplace after my … *shakes his head* It’s too goddamn hard to start feeling like it’s okay to think of someplace as home and then have it /not/ be.
K: *softly* I hear you, cielo. It’s why I don’t really make places be home. People are home instead, I think, for me now.
K: *can’t really bear to sit down here anymore, and gets to her feet, sitting next to him on the sofa, though she’s letting him (and, to be brutally honest, mostly Emma) dictate if there’s touching*
O: *Emma looks over, but her eyes are half closed and dull and she seems fine, purring away* Yeah. Well. I don’t do that either, in case people don’t stay. *adds in a slightly bitter undertone* …or /I/ don’t stay. God knows that’s always a possibility.
K: *puts her hand on his hip, gentle but firm* No one’s not going to stay. Someone might use double negatives, but other than that…
O: *snorts, but it’s in amusement* All right. Okay. I guess I’m just a little lopsided lately. Mood-wise.
K: You’re entirely allowed to feel that way, you know.
K: None of us should snap back to where we were instantly. It wouldn’t be…it’d be wrong. *deeply, inherently wrong*
O: Yeah. I… *looks over at her as Emma moves, turning around and resting with her forepaws stretched out on Kate’s arm* I’m sorry about what happened with your mom. I mean it’s shitty about your dad too, but he was always shit. I mean… *he twists his mouth, unsure* I don’t know if I should be talking to you about it, or if you consider this some kind of catharsis.
K: *offers Emma her fingertips to sniff before she tries touching her* I… *she considers for a moment, looking back at Ollie finally, in the eye* I don’t know what it is. I don’t mind talking about it, I just…maybe it’s just that it almost seems unreal in my mind, like a dream with physical consequences.
K: It’s like I made it that way to cope with it all, that it’s all so big that if I actually thought about it I’d fall apart. and maybe I’m weaker than I thought.
O: I don’t think it’s about weakness, Kate. It’s about scope, and having to deal with trauma that you put away because you didn’t have the capability to deal with it at the time. *he watches as Emma settles half onto Kate, getting her dull expression again* I think you need to start unraveling it. Just, y’know, knowing that you have Bruce and me here to support you, however it turns out. However it makes you feel.
K: *gently strokes Emma just behind the ears, only with her fingertips, as Bou nuzzles into Ollie’s leg* I…okay. Because I don’t want…it shouldn’t be all about me, Ollie. My story’s only part of it, and my ability to cope…doesn’t negate where I’ve behaved badly.
O: *stroking along Bou’s side with his foot, skritching her with his toes* I don’t want to have to fight for it. I mean, I know I fight for everything, even when I /don’t/ have to, but this… *he looks slightly pained, half embarrassed* It’s hard for me. If I have to keep reminding you or keep asking or keep … it’s hard enough to bring it up at all. I can’t keep doing it. I don’t want to have to fight to make this stuff important to you. *his voice is as raw and naked as she’s ever heard it, a different kind of vulnerability than the times it’s happened while they were having sex*
K: *bites down hard on her lip again, almost drawing blood* It’s…you’re always important to me. Always. Even if I suck at showing it, and I need to work on that—but if you’re hurting then nothing is right with me either, because you’re en mi sangre, And part of this that’s been so damn bad is knowing that’s true and not being able to talk about it, pushing everything down, for myself and everyone else, to keep walking through the day.
O: *gestures in frustration* Yeah, but, see — Kate, our lives are always gonna be like that! There’s always gonna be some godawful thing that pops up outta nowhere and blindsides us, and I need to know that even when it’s /hard/ and it’s taking all your effort to keep going, you’re gonna be there for me. Because otherwise you’re not pushing it down for my sake. Because it won’t help me if you do.
K: *is quiet, chastened, for a long moment* Yeah. And maybe that’s why you’re right. Why I should pick the parents thing apart a little more. Because otherwise… *otherwise she just will continue to bury it and keep going*
O: *turns on the sofa, the cat protesting slightly before jumping down out of the way so Ollie can take Kate’s hands* Because otherwise it won’t help anybody. I don’t need you to be perfectly right about everything all the time. You aren’t. You can’t possibly be. And I don’t need you to be strong for my sake or any of that. All I want is my wife and partner trying her best for me and not shutting me out or shutting down. Because I try my damnedest to be there for you too, Kate. You and Bruce. *squeezes her hands, clasping her wrists together* I just want you to try. You don’t need to even succeed.
K: I can definitely try. *squeezes his hands, even as Emma grumpily digs her claws into their thought a little bit* I just…do you have any idea where to start?
O: For you? With your parents, you mean?
K: Yeah. I mean…it’s so damn big. *though maybe she means more than just her parents, maybe it’s the whole damn burying of things*
O: *contemplates* Well. I mean, maybe you should start with your dad. He’s the more awful part of this and you probably … I mean, you probably have a lot of memories about him and what he was like that you’ve repressed and packed away. But there might be patterns there that could help you figure the rest of it out.
K: Mm. Patterns about him or about me… *she strokes his wrist with her thumb, comforting herself with the small gesture and the lightness of the touch* I guess both.
O: *nods* The one affects the other. I’m starting to clear through some of my blank-outs too. It’s nothing I /want/ to remember, but it … helps, in a way. To know all the things I went through.
K: To have reference instead of nothing…yeah, I know what you mean. *shifts to rest her head against his shoulder*
O: So yeah. No more of this lone wolf crap. If I can change to be less self-destructive because you wanted me to, then you can change to be less tight-lipped about shit you shouldn’t be.
O: *jiggles her head with his shoulder to emphasize, then kisses her hair*
K: Lone wolf with pack, then.