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phykios · 4 years

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honesty and promise me, part 3 [read on ao3] [co-written with @darkmagyk]

Several more weeks and hookups later, Annabeth thinks she should probably come clean. Some people might bury it deep, and for sure, Annabeth’s considered it, but, well. It is kind of embarrassing that she didn’t know Percy’s name at first. Stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her--she’s had nameless one night stands in the past, and despite Thalia’s ribbing, she knows that Thalia doesn’t really care either. It’s just that, you know, he’s Thalia’s family, and they’ve seen each other a few more times, and they are planning to continue to see each other a few more times in the future. Or more than a few times.

Anyway, she kind of feels like she owes it to him. Like he deserves this small nugget of truth, payment for all the times he’s fucked her blind. It’s nagging at her, and she hates feeling like she owes anyone anything.

Piper certainly seemed to think so, when Annabeth had told her over their monthly brunch date.

“It’s just common courtesy at this point,” she said. “Like, what if you guys end up married and then sell your story to Hollywood, they cast my dad as the male lead, and it comes out in interviews that you didn’t know his name for like a month? He’s gonna get the wrong idea.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure which part was more ridiculous: the movie, Piper’s dad being involved, or them being married.

Anyway, sharing some of her avocado fries, Piper had reminded her that being mean wasn't very punk rock, shutting her up effectively.

She’s out on site in the Lower East Side, taking measurements for plots of land, writing down sun angles and measuring the wind velocity between the brick buildings, when she gets a text from him.

I’m on a break and I’m starving 😩 Want to grab something to eat?

It’s 2pm on a Thursday and he wants to grab something to eat. If Annabeth didn’t know any better, she’d say that that sounds like a real, honest-to-goodness, bona fide date. (Meeting up at and subsequently leaving bars together does not count as a date, she’s pretty sure. Neither do the booty calls.) He’s been getting a little free with his texts, that boy, sending her selfies and memes and questions about her day, and now this? An invitation to their first, actual date? She should block him on principle, just for the sheer audacity.

sure, wya

520 8th, text me when you get here 😁

That’s another thing: Percy loves his emojis. If this is going to continue, they’re going to need to have a serious talk about that.

She doesn’t need to text him when she gets there; he’s already outside, leaning on the stone edifice of the building like a particularly jacked rent boy in his tight t-shirt and broody look, cigarette between his fingers. The sweatpants sort of ruin the image, though. He looks particularly comfortable in a way that warms Annabeth right from the inside out. “You know, when Nico said you smoked, I honestly didn’t believe it.” she says, not even bothering to say hi.

He looks up from his phone and smiles, the sun behind his teeth. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.” She doesn’t even hesitate--she plucks the cigarette out of his hand, taking a drag off it herself. “You been smoking for a long time?”

“Who do you think taught Thalia how?” He raises an eyebrow, bemused. “Is that a problem?”

It is, but it’s not like she can tell him that without losing some of her credibility. “Wouldn’t smoking fuck with your cardio?”

Percy shrugs, conceding. “A little. I used to be a lot worse, but I just can’t quite kick the habit. It’s mostly a stress thing, anyway.”

“Rough practice?” she asks, putting just enough effort into her lip wobble to make it abundantly clear that she’s making fun of him. “Were the other boys being mean to you because of your tights?”

He grins at her, saucy. “Annabeth Chase, do you really think that NYCB rehearses here? In the Garment District?” But he laughs before she can stammer out an answer (and thank God, she’s lived here three years and can barely keep the boroughs straight, let alone the neighborhoods). “I just wrapped up teaching a class. I don’t have to be at rehearsal until 5, I was thinking we could hang out? Bryant Park?”

A first date at the New York Public Library. She almost hates to admit it, but Percy Jackson might be kind of her dream man. “I believe I was promised food,” she sniffs, but she does hold out her hand, and when he takes it, lacing his fingers through hers, she’s sure that he can feel her heart beating, palm to palm.

Twenty minutes later they’re settled on a bench in the corner of the green, Annabeth halfway into a ham sandwich and Percy juggling a salad and an iced coffee. He’s been regaling her with tales from the more exciting side of ballet, a side she hadn’t even imagined could actually exist. “So by the time I land in Paris,” he says, taking a sip of coffee, “the guy’s foot has swollen up to, like, twice its original size, and when I finally managed to find some wifi to check my phone, there’s, like, eight missed calls from my mom and my agent, and an email from her that just says ‘READ THIS,’ in all caps, and of course the article is in French, which I didn’t really speak at the time, and I was so stressed that my ADHD made it so I couldn’t even read the Google translation, and I had to ask someone to translate it for me.”

“Oh my god,” she says, struggling to keep it in.

“And that’s how I found out that I’d been moved up to first cast in Le Corsaire, from the poor barista at a coffee shop in Charles de Gaule!” He laughs.

“That’s insane,” Annabeth says. “And the show was the next day?”

“It was that night! I had to haul ass to the opera house and get warmed up, because I was going on in about four hours. You should have seen the looks on everyone’s faces when I stumbled in, I’m sure that they all wanted to kill me.” Percy chuckles, taking a bite of leafy greens. “Now I wasn’t just the twenty-year-old upstart American, I was the twenty-year-old upstart American who skipped town when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“How did it go?”

“Killed it, of course,” he says, deservedly smug.

Despite her best efforts, she’s absolutely entranced; he’s a great storyteller. “I bet you break that story out at parties all the time, don’t you.”

He laughs. “Whatever gets the donors to open their checkbooks, right?”

“I can’t believe you lived in Paris. I’ve always wanted to see it.” She’d had a few chances to when she was in college, the semester she’d studied abroad in Rome, but she just never got around to it. Just another item on her long, long list of regrets, placed somewhere between the sketchy burrito from last week and not telling her mom to fuck off earlier when she’d had the chance. “If I were you, I’d never leave.”

Percy shrugs. “It was amazing, I won’t lie. But towards the end I just really, really missed it here. All my family is in NYC, you know? My mom, step-dad, and my sister live here, and Thalia and Nico and Hazel, too. I tried to come back and visit whenever I could, but being away from them was really hard.” There’s something soft and inviting in his expression when he says, “I’m really happy to be back home.”

“What are they like?” Annabeth asks. “Your family. Your non-mob family, I mean.”

He rolls his eyes, but he grins another one of those blinding grins, too. “My mom is the most amazing person you will ever meet. Not only did she support my dance habit, she did it as a single working mother who had to raise an angry, ADHD asshole of a son who didn’t always appreciate her. I don’t even want to know how many hours she had to work or how many scholarships and grants she had to track down in order to pay for me to go to SAB, but somehow she made it work, and managed to write her novel at the same time. She married my step-dad the summer I turned sixteen, and my baby sister was born the next year.”

Even Annabeth, cynical and black-hearted as she is, has to smile back. The love he has for his mom is so palpable, so tangible, she can practically see him glowing. “And the…” What had Thalia called them? “The ‘Cousin Consortium’?”

At that, Percy laughs, full-bellied, unrestrained. “The name was Nico’s idea. I didn’t really have many close friends when I was a kid, apart from my buddy Grover--he had to wear this really gnarly leg brace and I liked to dance, so you can imagine how much we got picked on--but we were all really close growing up, since our dads were all assholes. They may have left us emotionally scarred, but at least we had each other’s backs the whole time.”

This is a very Percy thing, she’s starting to realize: he can not and will not hold back on his feelings. He simply refuses to. Where most guys might try to hide or downplay their affection for their friends, Percy’s is written all over his face. Maybe it’s a byproduct of doing ballet, but he’s so unashamed of his love for his friends and his family and his art, that maybe Annabeth kind of wishes she could be included in that love too, if it always feels this warm and joyful.

“I think it’s amazing that you guys are so close. I only had the one cousin when I was growing up, and we didn’t really talk all that much,” Annabeth says, almost without her permission. Something about him, it’s just so easy to talk to him. He makes it safe to open up.

“The med school guy, right?”

Annabeth nods. “Magnus. Fifth generation Harvard student. We’re all very proud.”

Ugh. Even she has to wince at the false cheer in her voice. Percy gives her a half-smile, sympathetic and soft. “Harvard not really for you, then?” he asks, picking up the threads of a long and complicated story, and one that she absolutely does not want to get into right now. Or ever, if she can help it.

“More like I wasn’t really for Harvard.” Which wasn’t entirely untrue. She had been good enough for the university in Cambridge, Mass--good enough for two degrees and graduation with honors--but she had never been good enough for her mother’s capital-H Harvard. Never good enough for her mother at all, really.

Percy takes her hand. His fingers are cold from his iced coffee. “Hey. It’s their loss,” he says, with a sincerity and an intensity that makes her blush.

Every part of her wants to pull away. His thumb is rubbing against the joint of her finger, soothing and sweet, and she thinks she may break out in hives from it. “Damn right it is,” she mumbles.

He is so nice. So nice and hot and sweet. Objectively, what she’s about to do is a terrible idea, and might torpedo a really good thing that they have, but if she doesn’t come clean now her own guilt is going to drive her insane.

“Okay, I have a confession to make.” Percy raises his eyebrows, slurping the last dregs of his drink. “When we met… and then when we hooked up the first time… I may have… thoughtyouwereJason.”

He blinks. “Pardon?” he asks, mumbled around the straw.

Annabeth buries her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

“You… thought I was Jason?”

“Well,” she sputters, glaring at him through her fingers, “you were being all bro-y with Thalia!”

He is valiantly trying to hold in a smile. “You know, I distinctly remember telling you my name that morning.”

“I was really hungover,” she whines, “and you were shirtless and making breakfast so I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

“For a whole week?”

This is so embarrassing, why couldn’t she just keep her stupid mouth shut? “Yeah.” She slumps her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket. “Sorry.”

She’s not entirely sure what she expected: at best a couple of weird looks and a tentative promise to meet up later that would end up not working out, at worst she thinks he’ll just get up and leave her here at Bryant Park. Either way, they’d be doomed to months of awkward interactions, until eventually they wouldn’t be able to be around each other, and Thalia would have to pick a side--and Annabeth’s seen what Thalia does to people who cross her family. She’s seen Thalia beat a dude to pulp for calling Nico the f-slur. Picking Percy over Annabeth? That’s nothing.

So when he starts laughing, Annabeth is completely at a loss. Slowly, at first, then all at once, he’s laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and he has to put down his salad so it doesn’t topple over onto the grass. His head is tilted back in joy, the grey, late afternoon light adamant that Annabeth can see all of his features clearly, from his screwed up eyes to his bright, white teeth to the single dimple in his cheek.

Of course, even his laughter is hot. Asshole.

“You thought I was Jason!” He shrieks.

Annabeth crosses her arms, scowling.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I really don’t mean to laugh,” he giggles. Annabeth can feel her own giggle rising in response, and she ruthlessly quashes it. “I can definitely say I’ve never heard that one before. You do know Jason is blond, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I did not. Besides, you and Thalia look exactly alike.”

He scoffs. “No we don’t.”

“Uh, yeah you do. You, Thalia, and Nico are all basically clones of each other.”

“Okay, Captain Glasses, whatever you say.” He rolls his eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth feels like she has to say again.

He cocks his head. “For what? For thinking I was Jason? He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“No, for,” she blushes again. All this blood rushing to her head can’t be good for her. “For sleeping with you when I still thought you were Jason.”

Percy scoots closer to her, throwing her a grin and slinging his arm over her shoulders. Without even realizing that she’s doing it, she settles in beside him like she’s been doing it her whole life, slotted up against his torso, tucking her booted feet beneath her legs. “I am choosing to take that as a compliment,” he says, smirking. “You couldn’t resist my charms, even when you thought I was a brogrammer.”

Annabeth can’t help herself. She kisses him, wiping that smug grin right off his face, and when she finally retreats, after what feels like hours, he looks so dazed she could probably keep calling him by any name she wanted and he wouldn’t even realize it.

After their lunch, they meander for hours, headed in a vaguely southerly direction, holding hands the whole time, a steady, uninterrupted flow that took them all the way from Midtown to Greenwich Village. He tells her about his first day at ballet school; she tells him about her favorite monuments. “There are two architectural environments in America,” she says, ranting, speaking with enough force that she might forget the feeling of his hand in hers, “endless dead suburbia, or cities where every single building is either a concrete or a glass block--and not even Brutalist concrete, just shitty, poorly designed, paint-by-numbers concrete. It is an absolute travesty of modern government that they don’t fund any public works projects anymore.”

“That’s why all the gardens and stuff?” he asks.

“Nowadays everything is built by the lowest bidder. At least I get to add some beauty back into the city.”

“I know what you mean,” Percy says. “Paris is practically overflowing with public works, you almost forget about it sometimes.”

She sighs. “You’re so fucking lucky. Paris is so beautiful and everything in New York is just hideous.”

“Aw, come on,” he says. “Not everything. What about the Empire State Building, or Central Park?”

“Well, obviously, those,” she says, just a teensy bit flustered, but she’s not about to give up the argument without a fight. “I just mean like, normal, every day buildings: offices and apartments and stuff. It’s all so samey and boring.”

He looks to her right, pointing at the building they are passing. “What about this one?”

She turns.

If she had known they were headed this way, she never would have taken them past here.

“It’s… okay, I guess,” she mumbles, staring up at the arched windows, pedimented doors, and Rococo details of Miss Minerva’s Private Pre-College Prep School. A shudder goes down her spine, like someone walking over her grave. “There are better Beaux-Arts buildings.”

Sensing her discomfort, he picks up the pace, and changes the subject.

Finally, he stops outside a nondescript building, turning to face her. “This is me,” he says, a little bit mournfully, squeezing her hand. “Are you okay to get home safely?”

This man is ridiculous; it’s not even dark out. “I think I can manage a few blocks,” she says, lightly swatting him. “Isn’t it kind of early for you, though? It’s only four o’clock.”

He flushes faintly, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Uh, well, I always give myself a little extra time--you know, time blindness and everything.”

“You baked in extra time in case I wanted you to walk me home, didn’t you?” She mock-gasps, secretly delighted. “Scandal!”

“Guilty,” he grins. “You’ve been to mine so many times, I was curious.”

She just barely stops herself from laughing out loud at the very idea of Percy coming to her apartment--as if. Thalia hasn’t even been to her apartment. Nobody knows where she lives, none of her neighbors know who she is, and this is entirely by design. “Cut me some slack; a girl’s gotta have some mystery. Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never make things easy for me,” he says, white teeth gleaming.

“You better believe it,” she smiles back. “Now that I’ve foiled your plans, are you going to be too bored?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something,” he shrugs. “I’m very resourceful when it comes to boredom.”

Inspiration strikes, and she grasps his hand, pulling him down the alleyway. She almost hates to admit it, but she has something of a Pavlovian response when it comes to hanging out with Percy. Annabeth has come to expect some really excellent sex whenever the two of them meet up, and maybe spending all afternoon with him has made her a little bit horny.

She presses him up against the brick wall, hidden from the street by the long afternoon shadows, and kisses him. His hands flounder for a second, before coming up to rest on her shoulders, this thumbs tapping against the base of her neck, fingers fluttering on her jacket. It’s an intimate touch, kind of chaste and very respectful, and he holds her with precision and grace. He wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t want to. This is a date with no expectation of sex on his part. But Annabeth does not want grace right now, spooked by the ghost of her old school. She does not want precision. She just wants him. She just wants to keep him on his toes, keep him interested, blow his mind a little.

She just wants to blow him, to be honest.

He squeaks into her mouth as her hands fly to his belt, deft fingers practically ripping it off of him in an increasingly familiar motion. “H-hey,” he says, squeezing her shoulders, “this is--”

“Do you not want me to?” she asks, one hand playing at the top line of his underwear.

“No--I mean, are you sure? I’m-I’m okay with this, I just want to--”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, then drops to her knees. “But we’ve got some time to kill, don’t we.”

Afterwards, when she’s finished with him, Annabeth wipes her mouth, and he whimpers.

“Ho… holy shit,” he pants, flushed and trembling.

She tucks him back into his boxers, doing up his fly. “There we go. That was better than being bored, right?”

He nods wordlessly, swallowing, shaking. His eyes are glassy and glazed, stupid like he’s just shot out his brain through his dick.

In the short time they’ve been together (though, honestly, this might be the longest relationship she’s ever been in before… and they haven’t even broached the “dating” conversation yet) Annabeth has been on the receiving end of several different Percy looks. His face will light up with joy when he first lays his eyes on her, so happy to see her (though she can’t really fathom why), glinting like the sun on the water. His eyes will narrow, glaring, even as he furiously tamps down on his growing smile when they start arguing over something stupid, like Annabeth’s affinity for olives. He’ll grin at her, knife sharp and slanted, licking his lips and looming over her after she comes down from yet another orgasm via his mouth or his hands.

Percy looks at her now like someone took a bat to his head, and instead of seeing stars, he sees little miniature Annabeths flying around.

He pulls her to him and kisses her, entirely too sweet for what she’s just done to him, but that is also a very Percy thing. And when she leaves him with a final kiss on his cheek and squeeze of his ass, she can feel that look burning a hole through her jacket, following her down the alley and around the corner, and she finds that she doesn’t mind the weight of it at all.

#my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #ballet au #darkmagyk #woot!!!!

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yoiku · 3 years

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beep boop it’s an update on what’s going on in yoiland and how the main brain computer fried itself this time. It’s a long one!

So I got a letter on the 1st of July stating that I’ve been admitted into the big boi hospital for the proper tests/evaluation for ADHD and/or other neurological/behavioral issues. The paper said that I shoud be getting an invitation within the next 6months, and my goodness if time hasn’t been weird since then. Two months have passed and it feels like it’s both gone past really fast and agonizingly slow at the same time??? I’ve also been a real emotional rollercoaster because I decided to drop off my SNRI medication, and well, that’s been pretty rough. I gave it a slower drop off at first like instructed and for a few weeks after the effects had worn off I was feeling pretty great, I was able to find joy in little things again and it was great! ...Until I got that very familiar feeling of not being good enough again while I was trying to work on some art I owe to friendos. And to make things worse, when I tried to reach out for a meeting with a nutritional specialist for weight control purposes (this is a thing i’ve been trying to gather up courage to do for fucking years now.) I got straight up denied... because I don’t have diabetes(...yet). This on top of the pile of self loath I had already accumulated... Man that hit me like a truck hits a critter on a highway, and I went straight into suicidal mode in a matter of a few days. I’m not gonna go into detail about those few days, but long story short, I ended up popping my old doze of the SNRI pills to regulate my emotions for a few days. They make me unable to rest properly (can’t get more than a few hrs of shallow sleep -> constantly tired or high wired) but they also make me a mostly emotionless blob, so they helped in that moment. I still don’t want to continually take them though, they make me feel so understimulated about everything :/ I should meet up with my doc about it, but I already know he’s not going to have any new options for me before the ADHD thing is out of the way. Just gotta wait for now, ugh. I guess I do now have a better grasp on how the meds have affected me overall though, so going forward regardless of what those neuro test results will be, I feel like I have feedback to offer now.

Overall I feel like over this summer I’ve really gone backwards with my mental health. I don’t leave my apartment for 3-4 weeks at a time again, and when i do go out it’s like 10min trip to the grocery store to get something. The absolutely horrific heatwaves during june/july/august did not help. Not going out or getting even the slightest of excercise makes me really fucking tired, frustrated and hurty all over, all the time. Yet doing something about it all is hard when going out the door feels like climbing mt. everest with a spoon for an ice pick or something.

On a brighter note, autumn is on the door now and the cooler weather and darker nights are starting to give me better vibes. It’s nice to have a distinct day and night again. I’ve been able to resume my habit of drinking coffee on the balcony while it’s cool/cold out late night or early morning. It’s really cozy and gives me the Good Vibes™.

On the creative side of things, the vibes are still pretty bad. while on the meds I wasn’t getting much feelings about making art, not good or bad, so i generally didn’t really feel like drawing. No stimuli there so why bother? Now that I’m off meds I have a burning urge and the feel that I really want to create... But I’m also stuck in the self loathing pit again, feeling like shit about everything I make. The process is fun but the results make me want to never create again, so it gets more and more difficult to start a creative process, because I feel like it’s gonna make me feel worse anyway! >:/ Can’t have nice things, sigh. Still, I’m fighting that vicious cycle of feels right now, and I know it -will- ease up at some point. I just wish I was able to flip that switch in my head when I want to or need to, instead of having to wait and fight every goddamn time. I also should be starting another period of social/work rehab next month, and now that majority of people are double vaxxed for covid here, those workshops can operate local again. So I should be having a reason to leave the apartment at least twice a week then! I have so many plans and hopes on what I want to do with my life(and art), but all of them are being held back with all this mental health nonsense I have to deal with. I’d really love some healthy stability instead of this stagnation in my life x_x Still alive and occasionally kicking though.

#personal #mostly about the depresso espresso #but some other stuff too #no rebloggingsplstyvm #content warning: mention of suicide #there's probs a looot of typos and bad grammar here but I don't have the willpower to double check :D sorry!

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breakingsomething · 4 years

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the fall part fifteen - the topic of forgiveness

basic summary: marvin does an emotional speedrun. chase attempts an apology. a storm is coming.

trigger warnings: mentions of medication, hypnosis

tagslist: @synonymsforzombie @spicydanhowell @skyewardlight @dreaming-of-stories-and-stars @cest-mellow @graveyardlettuce @lower-your-expectationss

marvin had had hangovers before, but this one was just awful.

the hotel was nice though. someone that he assumed was staff had brought him toast and apple juice, which he was immensely grateful for. it helped his headache ease. then he'd spent the morning psyching himself up for getting up and going to face his brothers again, which he really didn't want to do but knew he'd have to eventually. he supposed he couldn't avoid his responsibilities forever. ugh, everything hurt.

"what was the name of the man who paid for my room last night?" he asked the receptionist as he finally worked up the energy to check out. the woman smiled at him, the computer screen lighting up her face as marvin waited patiently, clinging to the desk for support. he was tired as shit. maybe he should have taken advantage of the free room and slept longer, but he knew his brothers would be worried. he wondered how many frantic texts they'd sent him before remembering anti had stolen his phone. the thought shouldn't have been funny. yeah, he needed a nap.

"it was… anthony berlin," the woman told him, pushing up her glasses as she looked at him. marvin nodded. he didn't recognize the name, like he'd expected. a small part of him had thought the interaction between them had seemed very familiar, but of course he'd been drunk out of his mind. he probably was just imagining things.

"thank you," he said gratefully, and flashed a small smile at her as he left. this hotel was pretty nice, actually. he wondered how much it had cost for a room, but decided not to ask that as well. once outside, the cold air practically slapped him in the face. well, that was one kind of wake up call. he should definitely go back home now.

he didn't.

he walked to naomi's instead. she'd managed to move back yesterday, though the shop was closed and likely wouldn't reopen for a little while. he went up the fire escape and knocked on the side door, whistling sharply to let her know who it was. it took her only about a minute to answer, and marvin breathed a sigh of relief when she did.

"why are you on my fire escape?" was the first thing she asked. she looked different from the last time he'd seen her; bags under her eyes, hair yanked back into pigtails, fringe hanging in her face. "i mean, good to see you. uh. yeah. good to see you."

"good to see you too," he said softly. he tapped his shoes on the metal bars, avoiding the thin vines that had woven themselves through them. he cleared his throat and glanced back up at her. "do you wanna go somewhere? the beach, maybe? we could go sit at the gazebo and get fish and chips? or -"

"fish and chips sounds good," she interrupted. a grin split her face. "let me get dressed very quick. i'll be out in five minutes."

five minutes later, they were on their way down the steps and towards the high street, talking casually like the events of last week hadn't happened. it was only once they'd arrived at the shop down the street that naomi quietened, lowering her head and silently taking marvin's hand.

"they're going to start me on carbamazepine," she murmured. "that's usually used to treat epilepsy, but it's effective for bipolar as well. the lithium wasn't working anyway, so they're easing me off of it. i should be good in a month or so."

marvin blinked, then smiled wide. "oh - naomi, that's great!"

she snorted, turning her face away so he couldn't see her grin. "yeah, i suppose. i'm - i'm sorry about my breakdown. i know i must have scared you."

he squeezed her hand gently. "you're ok. i've… i've dealt with things like that before. henrik sometimes has flashbacks and barely recognizes us when we try to help him. we're always there for him, and i'll always be there for you."

naomi's lips parted, and her eyes flickered away. "oh, uh - thank you. thank you, marvin, i… ugh, i don't know why you put up with me sometimes. but thank you for it."

they each got a container of fish and chips, then walked to the gazebo, grabbing a spot on the benches. "you'd think there'd be more people here so early on a - what day is it?" marvin said as they ate. "thursday?"

"i think so," naomi said. she threw a chip across the ground, and above twenty seagulls immediately flew down and began fighting over it. "lost track of the days. they're all the same, anyway. boring." she glanced at marvin. "unless you're visiting. those days are easier to manage."

marvin went silent, staring at his plastic fork. it was a minute or so until he spoke again. "are you really ok? now, i mean. i imagine that - breakdown, was, uh… something that'd been building up for a while."

she sighed, crossing her legs over each other. "i guess. i do feel better, yes. i'm going back to therapy and i believe new meds will help a lot. i just… it scares me, the way my magic exploded like that."

marvin hunched further over himself, resting his elbows on his thighs. "has that happened before?"

"mm-hmm," she hummed. "never to that extreme, but yes. i suppose that happens when you - when you're bottling up so much emotion inside of you. you can just explode."

she kept talking, but marvin was staring down at his food with unfocused eyes, suddenly not hungry. he had lashed out at chase with his magic. had that been why? maybe marvin wasn't as composed and put together as he thought he was. maybe. but he was supposed to be the big brother now. he couldn't afford any explosions like that again.

"- anyway, what's been happening with you? it seems all i've talked about is myself," naomi was saying. marvin jolted, snapping back to attention guiltily with wide eyes. naomi giggled at the look on face. "daydreaming a bit there, pyro?"

he laughed. "maybe, maybe. sorry. i'm - doing fine, yeah, fine." he decided not to mention the storm or anti or his own magic explosion. she didn't need more stress on top of her own. "do you wanna walk down to the beach? i'm sick of sitting still, and we've been here for like, ten minutes."

"sounds about right, you adhd ridden bastard," naomi joked, and they set off again, chatting about nothing the way they always had. it made marvin's head hurt. something about how… how usual, how samey this was. it was like the past three months hadn't even happened. like it was april and they'd just celebrated chase's birthday and jackie had come home with a huge cake, having forgotten henrik was supposed to be getting it, and chase had ended up with two cakes that he'd shared with the kids and even stacy when they'd come round to give them his presents. marvin remembered on that specific day they'd sat out the back and ran about like idiots for a few hours, even some of the adults. jackie had lifted louise onto his shoulders and marvin had taken connor, and they'd raced up and down the garden, stacy occasionally yelling for them to slow it down before they got hurt. a few neighbourhood kids climbed the fence to play with them, and eventually it had turned into a right party, every one of them laughing so hard their chests hurt, the heat of the sun making them all dizzy and warm. it had been such a good day. and to think that all that time, anti had been chained up in jackie's makeshift base under that shop, tortured and hurt. just the thought of that made the memory sour. why had that been better days?

"you know, everything's been so strange lately, hasn't it?" naomi said, stirring him from his thoughts. they had arrived at the stone steps down to the beach, and naomi was walking down the wall with her arms outstretched so she wouldn't fall. "ever since you, uh, found anti. like, there was the veil breaking, the resurface of the black magic people, that weird ass storm…" she stumbled, then leaped from the wall to the sand of the beach. "a lot has happened in just three months."

"yeah," marvin murmured, kicking sand into the air. the wind blowing off the water was salty and cold, messing up his already scruffy hair. "it's all shitty! all shitty. let's just… let's run down to the bottom of the beach and then go back up towards the park." he glanced at naomi, grinning. "what do you say?"

naomi's eyed flashed with mischief. "i say... i have a head start," she said, then took off running like a child, sand flying behind her.

"hey!" marvin called. he raced after her, the wind roaring in his ears, nearly slipping on the unstable ground several times. he caught up with her right as she reached the second flight of steps. "that was - that was cheating, you asshole - rematch, rematch!"

"catch your breath first, pyro," naomi grinned. they sat at the top of the steps next to the park, the grass still wet from the rain. marvin doubled over and rested his head on his knees, breathing hard.

"you're - terrible," he gasped. "swear to - god, i'm - gonna - get you back."

"pfft. you wish." she ruffled his hair, and he gave a small shriek of annoyance. she laughed at his reaction and leaned back to look at the sky, laying her back on the grass. "it's getting dark already. think it's gonna rain again?"

marvin laid back too, facing upwards. the sky was getting very grey, black clouds rolling in. "maybe," he agreed after a moment. "hopefully not for a little while."

they just rested in each other's presence for a while, warm and comfortable. "i missed this," naomi murmured. "just sitting doing nothing like this. it feels like i'm always doing something these days."

marvin nodded, yawning contentedly. "yeah, i get the feeling. so much shit always going on." he raised his hand to the sky, twirling faint strands of magic round his fingers, small and controlled. "i just wanna run around and do random bullshit again."

the wind rustled the trees, people playing faintly in the background of the park. it was a while before naomi spoke. "do you think raymond's alright?"

marvin startled. he had barely thought about raymond since he'd been taken, mostly because the memories hurt and he didn't like to think. a small stab of guilt hit him, and he turned his face, cheek touching the cold grass. "i dunno," he mumbled. "i hope."

the truth was, raymond had now been missing for almost a month, and hecate was starting to lose hope for finding him. marvin never thought he'd say it, but he hoped he'd be ok. the two of them had been really close, once. and as much of a dick as his ex was, marvin didn't want him in the hands of jackie.

"remember the day we met?" naomi said. she raised her arm next to marvin's, and several dead leaves flew off the ground to rotate round her hand, visibly getting greener and brighter as they spun. "you were running from him cause you owed him money. you ran into my shop to hide. that's how you set my door on fire, ha!"

marvin found himself giggling at the memory. "oh my god, yeah. and i was hiding under the cash register bit while you told him to fuck off in swedish? holy shit, that was fantastic."

naomi's arm shook with the force of her laughter, and she bumped into marvin, resting their hands together in the air. "i wish you could have seen the look on his face, he was raging. i suppose we have him to thank for us meeting, actually, which is very weird." she turned towards marvin, dark eyes twinkling. "that's pretty funny, when i think about it. the irony, ha -"

she froze. marvin opened his mouth as if to say something, but just licked his lips and swallowed, mouth dry. was she implying what he thought she was?

"can i kiss you?" he said without thinking. his heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his fingertips, which were now entertwined with naomi's. he wondered dimly if she could feel his heartbeat.

"i'd like that," she whispered.

marvin leaned forwards, eyes fluttering shut, and pressed his lips to hers before quickly pulling away. "shit," he giggled, covering his face with his hands. "i've forgotten how romance works."

naomi laughed. "no, you're doing it right." she rolled over and bumped their noses together. her breath was warm, chocolate eyes sparkling like stars. "this is peak romance. kiss me again."

and he did.

the yelling started as soon as he got in.

"where the fuck were you?"

"henrik, calm -"

"chase, i told you to let me -"

"no, i told you not to be an asshole!"

marvin just stood there and took it. he couldn't be bothered to say anything back. really, it was amazing how quickly a good mood could dissipate in this house.

"jesus, marvin, are you even listening?" henrik cried. his face was blotchy, hair mussed like he'd just been asleep. he poked a finger into marvin's chest, face screwed up in anger. "you didn't come back for hours, you sent us one bullshit text saying "oh, i'm taken care of for the night," and then you don't message us again! what are you playing at?"

marvin sighed, closing his eyes. "i never texted you, henrik."

"- and you even think you can - you what?"

marvin winced at how cold henrik's tone had gone. "i didn't text you," he said, loud and clear. "anti stole my fucking phone. i spent the night in a hotel then went out with naomi. is that ok by you?"

henrik blinked, mouth falling open. "you - i - i thought you'd gotten your phone back! who texted us saying you were alright if -"

"don't know, don't care," marvin muttered, before pushing past henrik and standing in front of chase, speaking to him only. "i'm sorry i lashed out. i should have been more in control and i shouldn't have gotten so upset."

"no, i was being the asshole," chase sighed. he leaned against the oven, bouncing on his heels and biting his lip. "i was mad about something else and took it out on you. i'm really sorry."

marvin nodded. "well, then that's settled," he said. "problem solved. i see no more reason for us to fight anymore."

"i - what - no!" henrik spluttered. his glasses had fogged up with his anger, and he quickly took them off to wipe them. "i'm not done -"

"i don't give a shit." there was no warmth in marvin's voice, no emotion at all. "i'm done. i'll see you guys later."

and with that, he raised his chin and matched out of the room, head held high until he got to his room and collapsed against his door, trembling and eyes stinging.

he sighed softly, breaths shuddering. maybe he should have asked naomi to borrow her phone so he could message his brothers like he'd originally planned to do. to be fair, he'd gotten a bit preoccupied. a smile spread across his lips, and he gently touched them with the pads of his fingers like a lovesick teenager. well, something good had happened today. something different. maybe that was what he'd needed.

"i'm going for a walk."

henrik barely looked up from his computer. "sure. go for it." then he blinked, suddenly softening and looking up at his brother with tired, pale blue eyes. "and… be safe. are you alright?"

"mm," chase grunted, already yanking on his jacket and pulling on his boots. "i'm fine. i'm gonna - meet lucas, actually. i should be back soon."

henrik pursed his lips, nodding slowly. he glanced back towards his screen, but his eyes kept flickering back to chase, concern etched in his face. chase ignored it. he had shit he had to do.

he needed to apologize to lucas. in person. he'd already texted him, but felt like he owed him a real life apology for running out on him like he had. chase had no clue what he was going to say - sorry i freaked out when our faces got too close, i have childhood trauma relating to my sexuality that's scarred me for life - but lucas had agreed to meet him next to the train station, and chase was already rehearsing what he was going to say in his head. hopefully they could be friends again after. he'd hate to lose a friend to something so dumb.

"sir! excuse me, sir, sir!"

chase whipped round at the sudden frantic cries. running up behind him was a man with curly black hair and a long coat, freckled face pale and panicky. he stopped and doubled over, trying to catch a breath. "i'm sorry - but my - my children, my two sons, they've disappeared and a woman down the path told me she'd seen them come up here with some man - have you seen them?" he was shaking, eyes wide with alarm. "please - i can't lose them, please help me!"

chase made several stuttering sounds, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. his chest tightened in sympathy for the man; chase had lost his own kids before, and he could feel the man's panic in his own heart. lucas was going to have to wait. "i haven't seen them, i'm sorry," he said, and the man sobbed with dismay. chase held up both hands, stepping forwards. "but i'll help you look for them! they came this way?"

"yes, yes," the man cried, his scottish accent thickening with tears, swiping at his face. "i asked several people, a woman with a pram told me she'd seen two boys, black hair like mine, coming this way. i'm - i'm so sorry to bother you, oh god, i'm just so sc-scared…"

"hey, it's ok," chase comforted, flapping his hands awkwardly. "i'll help look. come on, let's see what we can find."

the streets were oddly empty. strange, it wasn't even six o'clock yet. "what are your kids names?" chase asked, attempting to distract him.

"dolos and apate," he babbled, tripping over his shoelaces as he walked. "they're twins, seven years old, my wife chose the names because she loves names that mean things. she died recently and there's been - there's been no one else to help me look after them…"

"i'm - i'm sorry," chase said, eyes scanning his surroundings as they got deeper into the city, farther away from the train station. "uh, what's your name? i forgot to ask that, i'm sorry."

"ronald," he said, getting farther away from chase as he walked faster. "i know, such a difference from my kid's names - fuck, i don't know what i'll do if i can't find them!"

"sl-slow down!" chase wheezed, clutching at his side. ronald paid no mind and raced round a corner, disappearing from view. chase cursed silently. "ronald - be careful!"

it was only when chase turned the corner too that he realized something was wrong.

in front of him was was the music shop. silent aside from the blowing wind, birds cawing in the darkening sky. ronald had completely disappeared, and all chase could hear now was his ragged breathing and the blood pumping in his ears.

"ronald?" he said softly.

a sudden, blood curdling scream suddenly rang out from inside the store.

chase wasted no time. he took off like a shot, shoving the doors wide open and darting inside. "ronald?" he cried, bouncing round the room looking for a door. there was nothing, just a small back room that was completely empty apart from a charred guitar. "ronald, where -"

and oh, shit. there was a door behind the place that had once probably been a cash register, slowly opening to reveal what looked like a white hallway, where chase could hear faint screams emitting from.

his first thought was to call the police. he dialed the number as quickly as he could with shaking fingers, waiting for someone to answer. eventually, after far too long, someone did. "hello?" came a man's cockney english accent. "brighton police, what's your emergency?"

chase quickly filled them in on the situation, all the while walking slowly closer to the white door. he felt like something was drawing him closer, calling him, even. "that does sound serious," the policeman was saying, somewhere far away. "do you know if the man is alright? he's screaming, yeah? well, that's not ideal. maybe it'd be best to go see he's ok."

"yeah," chase mumbled softly. his head felt like it was full of wool. "maybe i should."

he could hear the policeman laughing as the phone slipped from his hands.

the hallway was painted white, no doors or windows, slanting downwards to a large silver door at the end. and it was the sound of the door behind him slamming shut that snapped him out of his strange trance, eyed widening with the gravity of the situation as he realized he was somehow trapped.

"hey - hey, let me out!" he screamed, sudden panic filling his veins and making him immediately lightheaded. "no, no, no, this isn't funny, let me out, please, please let me -"

"chase," came a familiar irish accent. chase took a sharp breath, not daring to look. not daring to turn towards the source of the voice he hadn't heard since the owner of it had threw him in the air with black magic. "chase, i want you to listen to me."

someone was tapping on marvin's window.

now, the problem with this was that he was on the second story, maybe ten feet off the ground. he hauled himself off his bed, shoving his laptop to the side and blinking away his headache. he'd been so caught up in messaging naomi that he hadn't even noticed the room had gotten dark. it had probably been staring at the bright screen that had caused the problem. he yawned, rubbing his temples, and threw open his curtains to see -

"oh, you're fucking shitting me," marvin shouted. he threw his hands up in the air, staring at the man who was somehow ten feet in the air, clinging to a pipe with shaky fingers, grinning proudly as he looked in. anti tapped the window again, managing a small wave before gripping the pipe again.

marvin shut the curtains.

the frantic banging started up again straight away. marvin rolled his eyes and opened the curtains again. "what do you want?" he asked flatly, glaring at anti hugging the pipe tightly. he was pale and trembling, soaked through from the rain, nose bleeding with a bruise over one eye.

anti made a face and attempted to mouth something. marvin furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, not understanding. it was harder to tell what he was trying to say with no tongue in his mouth. eventually, marvin managed to decipher it. "you got mugged?"

anti nodded. marvin gave a despairing sigh and dragged a hand down his face. "ok. give me one good reason why i should trust you."

anti opened his mouth again, but suddenly his fingers slipped and he nearly fell, scrabbling to find a foothold so he wouldn't be left dangling in the air. his breathing visibly quickened, and he shook his head rapidly, mouthing one word over and over. marvin couldn't tell what it was, but he could also tell that anti was absolutely going to fall if marvin didn't let him in.

part of him wanted to shut the curtains and just let him go. another part of him wanted to open the window and smack anti's hands off the pipe himself. and another part of him, a much more depressing part, just didn't want to see anyone hurt anymore.

"you're so pathetic," marvin said flatly. anti nodded solemnly.

with a dramatic eyeroll, marvin pushed open the window, reaching out an arm to pull anti inside. anti gasped with relief as he left go of the pipe and tumbled to the floor, slamming his head off marvin's desk. marvin didn't move to help him.

anti groaned in pain. but by the time he'd sat up, marvin had a glowing hand held in front of his face. "this is a damage spell," he growled, pressing his other hand to anti's chest. "i've just wound up all the power based magic in my body and compressed it into my hand. i will not fucking hesitate to shoot this through your goddamn skull if you so much as touch me or my brothers at any point. i will eviscerate you. do you hear me? i will eviscerate you."

anti nodded again, eyes wide. the second marvin let go, he scrambled back into the wall, breathing heavily and clutching at his neck.

marvin narrowed his eyes, lowering his hand just slightly. "now. tell me what you're doing here or i throw you back out the fucking window."

anti didn't even attempt to respond. he just stared at marvin's lit up hand, his pupils dilated. he swallowed, almost completely unmoving.

marvin sighed and shook the magic from his hand, distributing it throughout his body again. "fucking hell," he muttered, and sat back on his heels. "hurry up and talk. i'm getting sick of the sight of you."

anti blinked and raised his hands to sign, but they were shaking so badly he couldn't seem to move them properly. marvin frowned and touched one of them, yelping. "fuck - you are so goddamn cold, how are you even alive?"

he paused, then tugged down anti's right hoodie sleeve, making him flinch. his wrist was still somehow bruised and painful looking. "how did you even do this, anti?" marvin despaired. "i'm just - fucking hell. how did you climb up in this state?"

anti's eyes had gone slightly unfocused. he didn't appear to be listening. marvin groaned. "here - do you have my phone? you can communicate using that."

anti shook his head, and marvin sighed again. "didn't expect so," he muttered, and went to get his computer off his bed. before handing it to anti, he held up a hand in warning again. "break this and you die. i'm not fucking playing around."

anti made a face and slowly flapped his hands in a circle, trying to warm them up enough to type. "the phone and also your kitchen knife got taken when i got mugged," he wrote slowly into an empty google doc. "sorry."

"of course," marvin sighed. "of course. so what do you want?"

anti hesitated before writing the next part. "can i borrow your computer?"

marvin didn't even have any words. for a moment he just stared at anti, open mouthed, before raising a hand and slapping him across the face.

anti yelped loudly and made an exaggerated what the fuck face. marvin curled his hands up with rage, digging his nails into his palms. "you - you, you - you fucking dare even -" he was shaking with anger, tears picking the backs of his eyes. "oh, you fucking infuriate me!"

anti attempted to write something again, but marvin cut him off, slamming his laptop shut. "no. get out. get the fuck out. i don't know why i decided to let you in here. get out."

"wait!" anti signed quickly. "i'm trying to -"

"no!" marvin cut off. "i don't want to hear it -"

"i'm trying to find -"

"i'm giving you ten seconds to get out or -"

"i'm trying to find dapper!"

marvin froze at that last sign. anti looked like he wanted to retract his statement as he saw the look on marvin's face. "you fucking what?"

anti shrank back briefly before sitting up again, trying to regain some scrap of dignity. "i've been looking for dapper," he signed, keeping his eyes trained on marvin. "he's nearby, i know he is, and i -"

"if you think we're letting you near him ever again," marvin said quietly. "you're wrong."

they were interrupted by the sound of anti's stomach rumbling loudly in the quiet room. anti winced and pressed his hands in on his stomach, trying to silence himself. "hungry?" marvin asked with a raised eyebrow. anti flushed, rolling his eyes. he shook his head, removing his hand from his stomach. it immediately started up again and anti hissed through his teeth, curling in on himself.

"i should… probably get you food," marvin said quietly. he still had no clue why he was doing this. why he was giving anti second chances. he breathed in and out, trying to calm himself again before speaking. "fucking hell, why am i even bothering…"

he stood, blowing air out his cheeks as he thought. "you're not staying the night here," he said firmly. anti looked like he wanted to protest, but lowered his hands after probably a second of self reflection. marvin nodded, satisfied. "and i'm not letting you use my computer. especially not for - that. but i will get you food and water and an ice pack for your wrist, cause you're really pathetic and as much as i despise you, i don't wanna find your body on the floor of a bus shelter one day. you got all that?"

anti bobbed his head slowly. marvin glared down at him. "now, stay quiet while i get you shit."

anti's shoulders slumped down, and he gestured to his mouth, making a face of seriously?

marvin groaned. "i mean it, anti. shut the fuck up. if henrik finds out you're here, he'll kill you. and i will let him. got it?"

"fine," anti signed, glancing away. "i'll shut up."

marvin grabbed the doorknob and shook his head. "i can't believe i'm trusting you again," he muttered, before opening the door and immediately coming face to face with henrik.

for a moment, neither man said anything. then henrik started. "trust who again?"

marvin's heart was racing. "uhhhh… myself?" he nodded quickly, his palms suddenly sweaty despite the cold. "giving myself a pep talk. you know, gotta stay on my toes." he laughed nervously, and he hoped anti had had enough sense to duck out of sight in case henrik peeked in. henrik glowered, and for a moment marvin was completely convinced he knew. then the other man lowered his gaze and sighed.

"ok, sure. marvin, i'm - i'm sorry i was an asshole to you. we can't keep going in fucking circles like this." he laughed softly. "not to sound like that arschloch. honestly, i hope he's suffering in the rain out there. i can think of no one who deserves it more."

marvin winced. "uh, yeah. i'm just gonna -" he gently pushed by to get down the stairs, desperately praying that henrik wouldn't look in his room. "i'm gonna make food. 'scuse me."

"marvin," henrik called, and marvin briefly screwed up his face before turning round again. the doctor was looking down at the floor, wringing his hands awkwardly. "i - i'm genuinely very sorry. i know i… didn't sound sincere before. probably because i wasn't being sincere. but now i am." he took a sharp breath between his teeth. "i think we should stop fighting. put all this anti business behind him. i think we can now both agree that anti is an untrustworthy bastard, right?"

marvin bit the side of his lip, guilt welling in his chest. "mm-hmm," he hummed, beginning to step down the stairs. "i'm - sorry too. i am. thank you for… yeah."

his heart pounded as he darted through the house to the kitchen. and as he started on making a sandwich with a packet of crisps, he wished and wished jackie had never picked up that fucking necklace.

"jackie," chase said, voice unsteady. "jackie, i don't - i don't… i don't understand."

jackie nodded slowly. both his hands were raised next to his face, covered by a pair of gloves. red hoodie, mussed hair, goggles on top of his head; he looked almost the same as he always did. but chase knew this wasn't the same man he'd once called brother. the blue of his eyes had turned a solid black, and although chase couldn't see his necklace, he knew it must be underneath his shirt. he wasn't even wearing the thick glasses he could never see without. chase took him in, heart pounding in his ears.

"just listen to me a second," jackie said softly. chase nearly sobbed at his voice. "please. i need to -"

"where's ronald?" chase demanded loudly. his eyes darted back and forth, looking for any other way out of this tiny hallway. "and i've - i've called the police. they'll be here soon."

jackie sighed, then tapped the back of his gauges. "come in," he murmured, and suddenly the silver door behind him opened up, two people stepping through. one was ronald, dead eyed and stiff. the other was a tall blonde man chase didn't recognize, wearing a trench coat and holding a bat. jackie gestured towards each of them respectively. "chase, this is rhudy. and this… this is aaron, our dear policeman. also my boyfriend."

"'ello, 'ello, 'ello," aaron said in a mocking tone, flashing chase a grin. ronald - rhudy - didn't move. just stared straight ahead without any expression on his face. chase felt sick.

"you tricked me?" he spat. "you - this - this is the boyfriend that hurt henrik?"

aaron rolled his eyes. "no, i'm one of his many other boyfriends. i'm the one he saves specifically for when he needs someone to pretend to be a policeman."

jackie turned and shot aaron a glare before turning back to chase, softening. "i want to talk to you. there was no evil intentions behind this, i swear. i just needed you to listen."

"this is where you kept anti," chase managed. his lip was quivering, and he blinked hard so he wouldn't cry. "this place, this weird b-base of yours - why? i don't understand. and why him?" he waved a trembling hand towards rhudy. "what's wrong with him? why does he look like that?"

jackie took a step forwards, just slowly. "i built this place to hold anti, yes. very high tech, but i had help." behind him, aaron straightened, tilting his head up proudly. "and rhudy is - no one important. well, he is, but not to you."

chase shook his head, fear pulsing in his veins. "why's he so… dead looking? why did you lure me here?"

"well, to answer your first question… he is dead," jackie explained, like it was nothing. "i killed him. accidentally, of course, and i didn't realize until recently. this is his soul you're seeing. i control it." he lifted a hand, and rhudy immediately followed, blank faced. jackie smirked. "like a little puppet. remember when anti was younger and always called us his puppets? oh, the sweet sound of the tables turning… warms my heart."

chase's breathing quickened, his stomach rolling. he could taste the bacon tortellini he'd eaten for lunch in his mouth again. "you - he - jackie, that's so fucked!" he squeaked, ashamed of how wavering his voice was. "that's so fucked, i - what do you want from me? answer the question!"

aaron opened his mouth, but without even turning round jackie held up a hand and aaron silenced himself, huffing and leaning on his bat. jackie looked suddenly serious. "chaser, i want you to believe me. this necklace - it's… corrupting me." his hand drifted towards his collar, and he clutched at something beneath his hoodie. jackie winced in pain, and chase's heart tightened. his brother looked up, desperation visible in his dark eyes. "i want rid of it, but i don't know h-how… i feel like something bad is taking over my mind, m-making me do things… i don't want to be like this. i don't, i don't." he shook his head, screwing up his face. "i'm so sorry i hurt you."

everything about this screamed danger. but chase found himself taking another small step forwards, lifting a hand to touch jackie's arm gently. "i knew it wasn't you," he choked out. "i told marvin and henrik. i told them. i said that you were still in there, that your magic was just hurting you - i'm sorry i doubted you, i'm -"

jackie suddenly pulled him in for a hug. chase didn't even hesitate, just immediately melted into it, clinging to his brother like an anchor. jackie was cold. he had always been so warm.

"i'm sorry," jackie whispered, voice cracking. "i love you, chaser, i love you with all my heart."

"i love you too," chase sobbed. he opened his eyes briefly, and looked at aaron and rhudy. rhudy didn't move or react. aaron was looking at his phone, bored. he glanced up to give chase a small, wicked smile, eyes glittering.

"tell me you really love me," jackie said. there was something in his voice that instantly put chase at ease, making him relax in jackie's arms, warm and sleepy.

"i really love you," chase murmured.

jackie's grip tightened on his back. "tell me you'll obey."

"i'll obey," chase said, even quieter.

jackie pulled away, smiling and facing chase head on. oh, his head was spinning. he felt so empty, his thoughts gone. "good," jackie grinned. "good. now listen closely."

he leaned into chase's face. "you're going to go straight home and forget you ever saw us, or that you came to this store at all," he whispered, voice dripping like honey, filling chase's head. he nodded sleepily. jackie smirked even further. "you're going to wait until i tell you i need you. understood, chaser? nod again if you understand."

chase hummed softly, bobbing his head mechanically. "i understand," he said flatly. "i understand."

jackie pushed him away gently, turning chase towards the door and opening with a few button presses. "by the time you've left the store, you'll have forgotten everything," jackie told him, his voice far away. "remember what i told you. i love you, chaser."

true to his word, by the time chase had gotten back out into the now pouring rain and the colour returned to his eyes and face, he didn't remember a thing. had he been planning to meet someone? he didn't think so. no, he needed to go home. go home and wait until he was needed. needed? needed for what? his thoughts screamed. chase shook it off. fuck, he had forgotten to take his meds this morning. must have been why he was so confused suddenly. it must be.

he hummed to himself the whole way home.

anti was right where marvin had left him. leaning against the wall under the window, shivering and burying his face in the curtains. marvin sat down beside him. "made you a sandwich. it's, uh, bread and butter with like, a full bag of cheese and onion crisps. i also have a bottle of water. it's tap water. and a pack of ice." he placed the last one on anti's wrist under his sleeve. anti sat up, hissing through his teeth at the pain. his eyes darted back and forth across the room, and marvin frowned. "are you alright?"

scowling, anti nodded, yanking his hand away and pulling it close to his chest. silently, he grabbed the water bottle and clingwrapped sandwich and stuffed them in his hoodie pockets, not meeting marvin's eyes.

"you're welcome," marvin said sarcastically. anti rolled his eyes and tried to push himself to his feet, managing to get onto the windowsill again.

"yeah, you'll have to go back out the window," marvin deadpanned. anti scrunched up his face, and marvin pushed him aside to open the window again. "i know, it's terrible. but like i said, i don't want henrik to see you."

anti made another face as the sound of pouring rain picked up ever louder through the open window. marvin threw his hands up at anti's reaction. "what? what is your problem?"

anti just shook his head and swung his legs out the window again. "i don't know how the fuck to climb down," he signed, glancing down to the floor below. marvin huffed loudly.

"don't care. have fun." he tapped anti's shoulder, making him flinch. "don't come back here again, ok? fucking christ."

anti rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of the pipe again, giving a small gasp of pain as he clung to it with his injured hand. marvin only watched him go for a moment before straightening and wandering back to his bed, flopping down and pulling his computer back onto his lap.

there was a sudden yelp and a loud thump from below.

marvin immediately leapt up again and raced to the window. anti was on the ground, flat on the grass. "fine!" he signed up at him, giving a thumbs up. "fine!"

he staggered to his feet, swaying painfully. marvin huffed and slammed the window shut again, closing the curtains. this time, he definitely didn't look back.

chase came home an hour later.

"how was your meeting with lucas?" marvin asked with a supportive smile. henrik had filled him in on the situation, and he was going to try and help chase as much as he could with it. "did it go well?"

chase blinked, resting an arm against the doorway. "meeting with who?" he mumbled. then he shook his head, mouth falling open slightly. "oh. oh, oh, oh shit. oh shit!"

marvin furrowed his eyebrow in confusion. "chase, what? did you - did you meet up with him?"

chase palmed his forehead, groaning loudly in despair. "i didn't, i meant - i forgot, christ, how did i forget that?"

marvin gaped. "you forgot? how do you forget - how do you - isn't that what you went out for in the first place?"

"yeah!" chase's eyes were wide with sudden panic. "yeah, how could i forget? i just walked around and then came back, i must've gotten really lost in thought - oh fuck, he's gonna hate me, marvin!"

marvin placed his hands on his brother's shoulders, looking him in the eye. "chase, bro, calm. it's ok. we're all very preoccupied, this is heavy shit we're dealing with recently. just tell him the situation." he lowered his voice. "have you looked at new therapists? you just seem so spacey lately."

chase nodded slightly, bringing his head forward to rest on marvin's collarbone. "mm. i did. i promise i'll show you later… i'm tired, marvin."

"i'll help you upstairs," marvin said softly. he knew chase sometimes got like this where he randomly forgot things; it was a symptom of depression, he knew. chase murmured something into his chest as marvin wrapped an arm around him, assisting him in stumbling out of the kitchen into the hall. he could hear henrik on a call with someone in his room as he walked by. "you just rest, drink water, feel better tomorrow."

and if chase noticed the tone change in marvin's voice, he didn't say anything. he definitely didn't see marvin's face crumple as chase fell onto his bed, drifting off almost immediately. and when marvin left the room, shoving his hand in his mouth to stop himself from crying out, he thought about how much he missed the days that henrik, jackie and jamie were all here together when chase got into states. how he didn't have to do it alone. something heavy sank in marvin's chest. he chose to ignore it.

don't cry, don't break. just deal with it and move on.

and he did.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #henrik von schneeplestein #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #naomi gudmundson #rhudy o'donnell #aaron mckenzie #the fall

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nuwandatowanda · 6 years

Photo

(via What It’s Like to Live A Day with ADHD)

Writing about a day in the life of someone with ADHD is a tricky thing. I don't think any two of my days look alike. Adventure and (somewhat) controlled chaos are my constant companions.

As someone who runs a YouTube channel called How to ADHD, who’s engaged to someone with ADHD, who has ADHD herself, and who talks to tens of thousands of ADHD brains, I can tell you this — if you’ve met one person with ADHD, you’ve met one person with ADHD. We’re vastly different creatures.

We do have a surprising amount in common though, especially when it comes to the stuff we experience on a daily basis. Most days, it’s:

a rollercoaster of successes and failures

some moments feeling like a genius, and others feeling stupid

both distractibility and hyperfocus

good intentions gone off the rails

little emotional wounds from being judged by the outside world — or ourselves!

the healing from being understood and accepted for who we are

I hope this peek into my experience of one day with ADHD helps with that understanding.

The morning scramble

I wake up suddenly, search for my phone — what time is it??

Oh, okay. Still early.

It takes me awhile to fall back asleep — restless legs — but as soon as I do, the alarm goes off. The snooze button and I trade punches until my fiancé turns it off.

I jolt awake — what time is it now??

I scramble for my phone. 11 am.

SHOOT. Totally missed my morning yoga class, and now there’s not even time to shower. I growl at my fiancé — “why did you turn off the alarm??” — and stumble toward the dryer for clean clothes … which are still in the washer. I start a new cycle, then dig through the hamper, literally sniffing for something to wear.

I throw on semi-decent clothes, deodorant, mascara, take my meds — I’m almost out, SHOOT, gotta make an appointment to get another prescription — grab a Fiber One bar on the way out the door …

And then I run back inside to grab my phone. 11:15. YES! I’ll still make it to my meeting!

With time to spare, I run upstairs to kiss my fiancé goodbye and apologize for my morning crankiness. And I’m out the door! Woot!

I run back inside to grab my keys. 11:19. STILL GOOD!

The part where I wish time machines were a thing

As I jump on the freeway, I remember to call my psychiatrist — also that I forgot to charge my phone last night. Gotta decide between my headphones or my charger (thanks, iPhone 7).

4 percent battery? Charger wins. I wish wireless headphones were an option, but I have a hard enough time not losing regular headphones. And technically, they’re on a leash.

I try using the speakerphone but it’s too noisy on the freeway, so I hold the phone up to my ear as I call. The receptionist says there’s only one appointment available before my meds run out — do I want it? “Um … let me check my calendar … ”

Shoot. It’s the same time as coffee with Anna. This would be the second time in a row I’ve canceled on her. Not much choice though.

I’ll make it up to her, I vow … somehow.

I bring the phone back to my ear and see police lights in my rearview mirror. I panic and wonder how long they’ve been following me. The receptionist is halfway through confirming my appointment — I hang up and pull over.

One policeman eyes the dirty plates on my passenger side floor — I call these my car dishes — as the other hands me a ticket. As soon as they turn away, I start bawling. But I’m very aware I deserved it and weirdly grateful for being called out. I’ll definitely drive safer from now on.

Wait, 11:45?!

I get back on the road and check Waze obsessively to see whether I can make up for lost time. I drive faster, but Waze is annoyingly accurate. Eight minutes late as predicted.

Well, not terrible … you don’t really need to call unless you’ll be more than 15 minutes late, right?

Except I still needed to park … and fix my mascara … and walk over.

12:17. Ugh, I should’ve called. “SO sorry I’m late!”

My friend is unfazed. I can’t decide if I’m grateful he isn’t annoyed, or depressed that he expected it.

I tell him that, half joking. But he takes me seriously and says, “I used to have trouble with that, too. So now I just leave early.”

But this is what I hear: “I can do it, why can’t you?”

I don’t know. I try. It never seems to work out. I don’t get it either.

He starts pitching an internet project he wants me to write and I’m having trouble focusing. I’m doing a good job of pretending, though. I’ve got the thoughtful nod down.

Plus, my meds should kick in soon … Seriously though, does he have to talk that slow?

I see a server hand someone a check and I wonder how much my ticket was for. When do I have to pay it by? Do I have to pay by check? Do I even HAVE checks anymore? Wait, did I set up autopay for my new credit card?

I’ve missed half of what he’s saying. Oops. I start playing with my spinner ring to ground my attention. Focusing gets easier, but this doesn’t look as good as the thoughtful nod. I can tell he’s wondering if I’m listening now. Ah, the irony.

Honestly, this project sounds cool. But something feels off — I don’t know what. I have good instincts, but I’m kinda new at this whole “success” thing. I failed pretty regularly the first decade of my adult life.

It’s weird being successful enough that other people want to work with you. It’s even weirder having to decide whether or not they get to.

I awkwardly end the meeting.

Back on schedule — let’s try to keep it that way

I check my bullet journal, the only planner I’ve ever been able to sort of stick to, to see what’s next. Research from 2 to 5pm, dinner 5 to 6pm, writing 6 to 9pm, relax 9 to 11:30pm, bed by midnight. Totally doable.

My meds are in full effect, my focus is good, so I decide to head back home and start early. I should maybe eat lunch, but I’m not hungry. The table next to me orders fries. Fries sound good.

I eat fries.

On my way home, my friend calls. I don’t answer. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to get another ticket, but I know it’s because I don’t want to disappoint him. Maybe I should do his project. It was a cool idea.

Back home, I cuddle up with a soft blanket, and start researching — and realize why I didn’t want to do the project. I reach for my phone and can’t find it. The hunt begins — and ends with me giving up and using the Find My iPhone feature. A loud beeping emerges from my blanket.

I call my friend. He answers. Does anyone else find that slightly weird? I almost never answer when people call. Especially if I might not like what they have to say. Call it phone anxiety, but a text to announce a phone call is the only way to get me to pick up — maybe.

But he answers, so I tell him why I don’t want to write his project: “Because YOU should write it!” I tell him what he said that made me realize it and walk him through how to get started. Now he’s excited. I know he’ll crush at this. I feel successful for the first time today.

Maybe I do know what I’m doing. Maybe I — I hang up and see what time it is. 3:45.

Oops. I’m supposed to be researching dyslexia for an episode.

I throw myself into the research until my alarm goes off at 5, reminding me to stop for dinner. But there’s stuff I still don’t understand yet. Ehhh, I’ll just keep going until 6.

It’s 7 and I’m starving. I grab way too much food — wait, wait.

I bring the food to my desk and begin typing furiously: “Turn ‘reading with dyslexia’ into a game …”

I write half the episode.

I get a better idea.

I start working on that one — WAIT — laundry! Not gonna beat me THIS time!

Switching the clothes to the dryer, I realize my workout clothes aren’t in there. Argh, I missed today so I have to go tomorrow or I’m not gonna feel good.

I grab my yoga pants and a bunch of other clothes off the floor of pretty much every room in the house and start a new load. I remember to set a timer!

I sit back down to write, but the idea doesn’t seem as great now.

Or maybe I don’t really remember it.

ADHD, the after hours

I can tell my meds are wearing off. It’s getting harder to hold all the thoughts in my brain while I work with them. The page in front of me is a random tangle of words. I’m getting frustrated.

The timer goes off. I gotta change the laundry — except the dryer’s still going.

I set the timer for another 10 minutes and head to the couch to hang upside down and try to get my brain to work.

Upside down, I remember I’m trying to get better about work-life balance and wonder if I should stop, even though I haven’t gotten much done. But tomorrow’s super busy, especially now that I have to work out, and — BZZZ.

I race back to the laundry room, take a corner too sharply and run into the wall, bounce off, grab the dry clothes, dump them on my bed, switch over the wet ones, and start the dryer. I race back and check the clock. 9:48.

Okay, I’ll keep working, but I’ll stop at 10:30. And fold the laundry. And relax.

10:30 comes and goes. I find a way back into that idea and I’m in a flow. I can’t stop. This is hyperfocus, and it can be both a blessing and a curse for those of us with ADHD. I write and write, and rewrite and rewrite, until my fiancé comes to check on me and finds me passed out in front of the computer.

He carries me upstairs, sees the pile of clothes on the bed, pushes them aside, and tucks me in. I promise to do better tomorrow, to make more time for us. And to fold the clothes.

He kisses me and tells me that clothes are just clothes, but the stuff we make lasts forever.

I hug him, hard. And see the time over his shoulder — it’s 3am. I’m gonna have to choose between sleep and yoga. Tomorrow’s gonna be another scramble.

Written by Jessica McCabe on July 27, 2017

#add #adhd #attention deficit disorder #attention deficit hyperactivity #adult add #adult adhd #mental illness #mental health #article

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