#putting away therapy speak on the high shelf

[craycraybluejay]

I hate ppl u can't even joke ab life without it being "trauma-dumping." Pls. One mildly strange joke and suddenly I'm some kind of villain. Yall sensitive asf. Do u also call it trauma dumping when ur talking ab the fucking weather and someone jokes ab natural disasters. Do u. It's dark humour. Grow up. I swear you can't say anything these days without Offending someone's delicate sensibilities or it being pathologized to hell and back using weaponized therapy speak.

[ejzah]

A/N: @anonkp requested Deeks and Kensi at a therapy session. For review, in this story, Kensi asks Deeks to incapacitate her in order to protect her from some bad guys. It has a lingering effect on Deeks.

***

The Least Damage, Part 3

Deeks kept his eyes focused in the direction of the floor, his vision and kind elsewhere. In the last three days, the nightmares and guilt hadn’t improved. If anything, they’d gotten worse since talking with Kensi.

Finally, when Deeks woke from a nightmare where he’d been steadily stabbing Kensi in the stomach, curled up in the corner of the room. According to Kensi, he’d been whimpering and calling her name but he didn’t recall any of it. Which is why he was currently sitting in a small office instead of tracking a missing Lieutenant with the rest of the team.

He glanced around the room, focusing on the three potted succulents placed on the top shelf of the bookshelf across the room. Unfortunately, he’d become very familiar with the contents in the last several years; he knew exactly how many tiles lined the ceiling and had memorized the author of every book.

“Hey, are you doing ok?” Kensi asked, running her hand over his hunched back. Deeks shrugged, sandwiching his hands between his knees to hide the fine tremors.

“I’m here,” he answered with a weak attempt at humor, but it fell flat.

“I know you don’t want to, but you need help.”

“I was just hoping to get beyond this without any help. I don’t want to relive what, um, what happened, in front of another person.”

Kensi sighed, settling on caressing the hair at the nape of his neck instead of responding.

A soft knock on the door had Deeks sitting straighter, his anxiety kicking into high gear once again as their therapist, Dr. Anu Dewan, stepped into the room.

“Deeks, Kensi, it’s good to see you again,” she greeted them in ever so slightly accented English as she took a chair opposite them. She didn’t sound surprised at seeming them on short notice, but Deeks supposed after dealing with them for the last several years, she’d gotten accustomed to it.

She was a tiny woman with streaks of gray in her thick black hair and warm smile that usually put Deeks at ease. Not today though, he made the briefest of eye contact before focusing on the succulents again.

“Thank you for squeezing us in,” Kensi said, discreetly resting her hand on the middle of his back.

“It’s not a problem. I assume it was rather urgent.” She nodded encouragingly. “So how can I help you today?”

Deeks stared at his knees, then glanced at Kensi, realizing she letting him take the lead.

“Last week there was a situation with our work where I, um, I had to hurt,” his voice cracked and he inhaled quickly to recover himself. “I had to hurt Kensi.”

“To protect me,” Kensi added quickly, defensively. He felt her hand tighten on his back. “We were in a really terrible situation and I asked him to do it to save my life.”

Dr. Dewan nodded, her expression giving nothing away. “I see. That must have been very difficult for both of you.“

“It was one of the worst moments of my life,” Deeks ground out. Kensi stilled beside him, but he didn’t look at her, needing to get it out now while he could. “I’ve been having dreams about it ever since.”

“And the dreams relive that moment?” Dr. Dewan asked.

“Sometimes. Usually it changes and I’m hurting Kensi more than I did that night. I stab her or strangle her until she stops breathing.” His breath hitched and he realized he was rocking back and forth slightly. “And I like it. I like hurting her.”

“Deeks,” Kensi whispered, but Dr. Dewan held up her hand.

“Let him speak, Kensi.”

“I’m terrified of hurting Kensi again. What I did, it woke something up in me and I don’t know if I can ever fix it.” He inhaled, chest shuddering as he tipped his head back.

“That must be very disconcerting. I understand your fears, but do you really think you want to hurt Kensi?” Dr. Dewan asked. “Marty, look at me, please.”

He forced himself to meet her gaze, expecting to see recrimination and disgust underneath her. Instead, he found warmth and understanding. Which was so much worse.

“Tell me, do you want to hurt your wife?”

“Of course not! You know my history, my dad—”

“Yes, he abused you and your mother. I know that left a indelible mark on you and you’ve feared becoming like him. Everything that I know about you though, tells me that you would never hurt Kensi intentionally or otherwise. You are not becoming like the man who hurt you so badly.”

“You haven’t seen my dreams,” Deeks said. “They’re horrific. And I can’t chance that.”

Turning to Kensi, Dr. Dewan addressed her, “Kensi, do you ever fear Deeks? Do you feel unsafe in his presence? Sharing your home?”

“Never,” Kensi answered immediately and emphatically. “I do and will always trust Deeks with my life. Always, Deeks.” She said the last part directly to him, briefly cupping his cheek. “I trust you.”

He closed his eyes, letting her pull him closer. For a moment, it was just the two of them, and he let himself find comfort in her embrace. That awful feeling crept back again far too soon, and he pushed himself back.

“So, how do we fix me?” he asked. “I mean, can we fix me?”

“Deeks, you are not broken. You are traumatized,” Dr. Dewan told him. “There is the new trauma created by your actions to protect as well as the trauma reawakened from your past. First, we’re going to work on managing your symptoms to lessen those nightmares.”

“Kensi trusts you, Deeks and I will help you trust yourself again too.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, clinging to her reassurance like a lifeline.

[finnyboywolfhard]

Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader 

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington. 

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve 

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff 

word count: 2.4k 

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?” She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.

[pndnj]

Cathartic- Yellow Metal Lyrics

Heres where I am with the lyrics, I referenced @25Goldenn on twitter for some of it that I couldn’t comprehend. 

*music*

0:23

Dark matter, like painted splatters, they fit better, the old saying, the way it goes, better the devil you do then you don’t know. I hit pedals and switch levers, my heart metal, I can't settle, im part trouble, they are not subtle. I fuck good so fuck cuddles, burst bubbles the thrist levels at new heights, i down doubles, and got baked til I felt high, my face puzzled, felt muddled, far strung and your floors woodent, the thought might but the fit wouldn’t. A fortnight

0:46 - 1:00

And I thought right, it’s all bark and no bite, I’m Tony Stark still embarking on a dream, took a bit of time to take darkness from the team. Seen what I saw. Heartless on the sleeve. Tried to burn my wings, so I put them in a piece on my chest , at peace no rest.

1:00-1:15

Flipped this on it’s head. Rip the script up now, flip it don’t pretend, slipping shit again, Fakers all around me, I’ve been living in pretense. Fake friends won’t make amends. There’s no need, these mean comments control the scenes. Attentionseekers, the spine is weakened

1:15-1:24

This family needs, what a family needs, and the planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving til we ascend so fuck the fence, and until they stop killing colour it’s fuck the feds.

1:22 - 1:44

You must be off it, I mean it, you know you ain’t never get with the judging and I used to dread growing my beard too long, never felt I belonged, but it's really long like a minute I ain’t looking to no mans for the limits, They’re feeling timid, I’m telling them who they mimic, why they don't look like a clinic …. Why they don't get no women, Still, we’re just fucking girls, Lost in the wrong world, Jurassic, now to this vermin

1:41-  1: 50

Kicking the game I’m serving, these losers are never learning, my fire is forever burning, adding it to my fuel, seems like I’m always focused on never becoming you, These locals that rob us feeling … was for a reason.

1:52-2:02

I’m seeing my new beginnings, watch out this loser’s winning, and no water is too deep to swim in Like I’m about to see a killing, I’m all the way that and living, flawless and feeling lawless, the prison now to the gimmicks, my vision is set to something,

2:03-:2:20

I’m watching you bitches plummet, no matches here for my cunning, you rappers are feeling done in, switching your genre, running and Running your jaw, stunting, pulling at straws, something  I think you’re a poor effort, deaf and tone deaf and I ain’t treat you separate. Living, I’m in my element, riding it like a … never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a benadryl. Keeping it green in general

2:20- 2:46

Think that you remain irrelevant. Look at yourself with reverence, hoping to always elevate. Celibate of these thoughts, killing themselves with sedatives. In comparison to eminem, you’re feeling feminine. Impolitically correct, still dropping on my dick. And I never gave a fuck about what they say abt my shit, I’ve been moving things in my mind like it’s this mountain dew Memories have made me wonder if one day I’m after you. What’s the purpose that you do, is what you're hoping that they learn, i’d like to say i’m done but it’s getting up on my nerves

2:46 -2:55

I’m looking at my life, saying what do I deserve. It’s hard to say I know when I’m walking through the dirt. Talking while you’re nothing I can see for what it’s worth. I’m tired of feeling hurt and I’ve tried enough but nothing works.

2:55-3:40

I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work. Chit chatting is the usual, talking to this clerk, i beg you don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt so everytime they see me, the oldest know to swerve. SWERVE Life is potent, bits of fucked shit… till they took notice weren’t  no hocus pocus, it was hard work that got me heard so i put in the graph like google maps but the whole earth

… around my door mat, taking over like the drones, rolling dirt up in miles like the water, and exploding like Annas hematoma. Don't need to see a slammer to know that I don't want to go man

I’m a showman. I’m just focused on the drama… like i’ve got my own insurance, show myself the pain, like i boxed it in the frame, if we’re about to talk greatness im great, the way you have to say my name like beyonce

“Say my name”

4:00-4:46

Just a bum with a cigarette, sun coming up, all my thoughts on the internet. Feeling deep, I’m just bored with the silhouette single sec,  get fucked up for the thrill of it . killer streak playing Pacman. Like I came from the Philippines vanilla bean still a thing for the thrill of scene,

Theres a beam, UFO, Leave it well alone  I aint moving, stood still on the peloton, telephone and its always on the dial tone,  it's been a while since i’ve smiled at a milestone, seen a big pile in my mind stone, me against the world on my Jack Jones, Like I’m John Jones, With pictures in the condo, far from John Doe, in the ___, like I'm Johnny Bravo, got pravado, with a small dick sitting in golados, feeling far gone, cuz that last hit was the good shit, was that stay lit

4:48-5:02

You can never take my shit come and get me. On the top floor,  cloud 9, fading, never bailing, felt amazing, inhaling, til my lungs two guns blazing. Overcome all the stunts that I pulled. A suit of just skin and then wool

5:02- 5:17

This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm ya. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here till they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80, and start moving like a ruler, ?damaged? Like a computer going fast, bars from the jeweler, bring the songs to the beach in hopes of finding tuna

5:18-5:36

…

5:36- 6:16

Grab a bat, lose my rag. Couple things got me mad, a couple people got me wrong and now I’m changing up the swag. Coming in and stealing it, I might take the whole bag. Feeling undefeated, I’m a beast with a reason, and imma lead the whole pack. Fearless like I’m Caesar, I’m just waiting for a chance to fill it up with diesel, and all I've been achieving is clocking miles in its region, moving like a legion.

Promise that I made to myself an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving, staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving.

I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy, it’s time I grew up,  a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on a mike.

6:16-6:32

I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane. The truth is on my medicine, can’t put that on your plate.

Speeding into everything, bout time I fixed the brakes. Don’t say I can’t communicate , you know I conversate with you in several different ways. And I know you know it’s references, looking at your face.

6:33- 6:53

Can’t justify mistakes, like every man that made them, seems I ain't  the one to blame. Lying to myself, only had so much to gain, so now I’m switching up the plate, see if that affects the place, im at on most days

I ain’t going with the usual so they looking at me strange. Confused, I can feel it all,  I’m here to make a change. It’s cold at 3am outside, I’m walking with the dog, thanking god that you don’t talk at all, my mind is switching off

6:54-7:12

Driving down to find myself, cuz I’ve been getting lost, lived this selfless life and found I can give a toss. Lessons that I’ve learned I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself.

So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt. Like burning toy soldiers that used to go up on the shelf. Recycle the ideas, conveying on the belt

7:14-7:29

.. circus, always hurting the way we felt? Embarrassed that we dreamt of bigger things and letting go of notions till we feel them in cement

Tired of only hoping, we feel broken men. Cuz the gravity is weight and has kept us to the ground, see the only people speaking with favors in their mouths

7:46-7:58

Got killer rhymes… no fillers, like godzilla, eating clouds cuz my smokes thicker, throat licker, my dope sicker, bringing people their hope like im the pope slicker,  i hope you’re getting the point cuz i walk quicker

I thought my city was shit bcs I want bigger like my zipper couldn’t zip up fed up with the…my love is fickle.. Residual age has a primitive face

I see demise for your limited ways, Left it to simmer, simmer away…a fake glimmer in the haze

8:09-8:11

Feeling trapped this industry is a cage

8:34-8:50

Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views, while they’ve been sat in their chairs, I’m feeling pressure to choose.

Standing here as one man, how can I do half when you’re half the person I am. If it wasn’t in your life, you didn’t choose it. It’s the funny thing about music. It’s the pain and beauty of it.

8:52-9:11

Don’t give a fuck what my suit is, it looks good so I wear it, better than the shoot that People’s wearing, changing the whole narrative for these basics and scarcity

Been facing the racists from back when i were a kiddie .born up in in 93’. been living in Bradford City..kicked me out of the schools, they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p*** still sitting in the classroom chilling, and i'm angry now that I’m older I see they treat us different

9:12-9:25

got me thinking I’m the problem cuz they never dealt with those issues.

20 years later I’m still in the same boat, tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for, man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil, when they got me by the throat

9:25-9:35

Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them

‘Boy your skin is so light’, ok motherfucker take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.

9:35-9:45

I don’t know how that’s acceptable, when life is more susceptible to perception, be the death of them. I’ve been looking at the sky saying where’s that day of reckoning, you had your prophets right when they say that you would speak to them.

9:45-9:55

I need justice in this life and I trust that it’s my fight, cuz when I’m writing it feels right to have them focused on the facts again. Focused on the rap again, hoping for the change, gunna put this on the map again

9:55-10:16

Writing in all caps again, the pain, it goes through me so I write the letter. All the shit that could have brought me but made me better.

I’m at home with a pain in my soul , yeh rap… cuz you know I was too real to contest it, my time was invested. Now I look at the industry, I see it infested, looking like kids who would write on nesquik.

10:17-10:29

My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.

I ain’t never gave a fuck about these jokers and jesters. Ain’t no answers for these things, so just save us the questions, man allowed of violence, cuz my silence is deafening, your opinion stinks, somebody get him a breath mint.

10:30- 10:42

Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening, I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine Now they all wanna hear me, got a table at letterman. Direction changed, like I changed up the lettering. Don’t believe the age ,bcs I move like a veteran.

10:42 - 10:47

Raised on the benefit for whose benefit, they’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.

…no words coming out when you open your mouth

And to be honest, it’s insulting, offensive to my wounds that have been salting. Tryna ask me questions that they know I never answer. I’d rather sit online and reply to the fan art

11:00-11:06

Fuck a sports car, coming through when i rapped

tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor

11:06- 11:17

Fake life, 'sup online, suck a fat one. You don’t wanna buy into that, none of that son. Sitting in the garden 98’ in the Datsun,  seen some hot summers but I still remember that sun.

*music*

11:51- 12:34

I make millions off of my pain, cause I know a few millions still living that way

Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause i hit the nerve. Only way that the sheep learn if the street firm, in my ways I don’t wanna change, everything just stay the same

Who you tryna convince you understand, cant maintain, let the lights dim some,  get the Chow Mein, flex, get the tape, right up at night

Why these men be nice to my face, be nice,  i ain’t tryna be a gangsta ruins my vibe

Rather be low-key and on my phone. Never need the trophy or the show piece

Never show peace in a North Face fleece. Show kids this like i wrote my flip

Cause the sign might fit till the start i’m sick

12:37-13:05

Now you see where I come from, the world don’t. Only achievement in this life is the Jordans. Committing petty crimes out of boredom, we can’t afford them. So I stole it, need a rolex

Go make sense, get yourself a job, It’s a poor man’s game tryna sit and pray to god, he ain’t sorting out your problems, gotta sort them out yourself

Used to tell us fables, now I’m writing them myself, Cause we raw like animals we all just need some help

Cathartic, I’m an artist, trying to put my heart in

Felt double crossed like Leo in Departed

13:05- 13:27

For the knowledge i’m not charging see I got it all free

But my hunger kept me starving like i’m feening for the feed

I just Need a reason to see me bleeding for my creed. Trick you with the words like I keep em up my sleeve. Picking where I fit, I see me sitting with the queen

I ain’t doing it unless you’re used to saying please

Let me flow a bit, before I sting 'em with the bees, They tryna kill us with disease

(Music)

13:34- 14:12

Why does it feel like they had the same notebook and the same four looks

Like the rain won't touch on their face, so sus when they lie don’t trust not a minor

Please no fuss, I just move through the game like must

Something in the way i adjust till i stick, Free falling like the ship, free fall till i bust

Remember 21 brother gave no fucks. Trying to project when they give them looks

In the projects, in the objects us

In my own way, never gave me love, shoulda never started this, broken hearted kid

Dried up the feeling till I stole the lid

Don’t wanna relish in the fame but I can’t resist

14:46-14:58

I like the way we feel, I like the way, I like the way

Ain’t no mistake, i am a being

I ain’t tryna be a leader, been selling out since Jesus

All my rhymes are for the readers, between the lines, like Father time, I fuck Mother Nature

14:58-15:40

That’s what they get, the connotations. Tell 'em I lived a life, and then I lived a life of adjacent? like its…. and played it patient.

Alone on my own spaceship, always tryna find greatness, still defying lines, but I’m fighting in my prime.

Shining light like Kylo while imma kill it all the time. Aging like I’m wine

Asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define. Focused on defiance, imma fight it while it’s life.

Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next, just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around til I’m the best

Speaking in full sentences, shoulda thought about a strategy before you went at the stratosphere about this… rings around Saturn, this ain’t a battle, I’m sat, I’m here

15:40-16:22

Catch me doing magic, hired and sounding tragic I think you could use practice and until that you get the blacklist and pull like a … actress? Fooling them like a catfish, schooling like a legend, happy to be the reference, fusing like iridescence, leaving them all guessing, leaking out of my brain like a pipe I aint fixing, shining like a star you can see it from a distance

Aint many of me around p*** I’m just different Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto, clean up like Im Dettol

I’m the man to put a bet on, sight smart like a weapon,  this is my kind of setting, i write the world I’m sat in, while these others live on hype, i see them fight in how they type, the fruit is ripe for the taking, i think i might

16:22-16:57

Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here

16:58- 17:47

Eccentric things are mentioned like a kid stuck in detention tryna escape im just spitting what is written on the next page, spitting image of my dad in his young days

Born sinner when i’m livid i say fucks sake

Don’t worry i’m too cunning with no plumbing, the waterworks, i sung something that resonates, i thought it first like giving birth to the parrot perch

They see me do it and they know it works

Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse

You’ll be nervous, you don’t deserve it we’ll scratch the surface ill leave a crater, lift the dirt up to find the hurting

Can’t know for certain nothing is guaranteed, tryna be a better person than the world deserves to see cuz i see a lot of sharks still swimming in the sea

Cease and arrest what’s the reason.. And these the kinda kids we bringing up next

Distorted reality, all they needed was family, too hard to face, to see what the damage is

17:47

*i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, *

18:04-18:38

Sometimes they ask the questions too deep to form a sentence, to disform, is this the norm, is this the sentence i feel defenseless i played the setlist, and all my sweat blood and tears, forgot to mention feeling lost, going off into different sections i feel like love wrecked it

If it’s not a drug why am i waiting for the next fix, affected, i cant believe that you left this

I guess I leave for the best wish, moving on like im fine for the lectures

We see it all from spectrums, cuz if we’re falling down we can fall down together

Staircase to heaven, mirror down the middle like 11, resentment on one side it won’t settle

18:38- 19:14

Mind fried but taking sense, they aint got a sense of themselves in the rich ends

Need to spell it out for them.. Made for them so witness

I know you feel afflicted but you always love it with me while im laughing at you, ya think you’re laughing with me

I try to (i love you) but im grown so they don’t fit me, my body thrown from the new to this old city so Im sick of sitting on my own, feeling so shitty, i’ve been on roads where its cold and the snow hitting

Its okay to be yourself, sit and talking to myself

I’ve been walking for the longest, just need a little rest, know i ain’t the strongest, I can feel it in my chest, talking about my feelings and of me, they get the best

19:14-19:59

They aint leaving, seeing breathing in my breath

Till death do us part is just seeded in my heart, like a work of art

Never winning,im just scared

Cant begin from the start, do i play a part in the rhythm of the night

I guess i’m onto something cuz the dark is feeling right

Every cloud got a lining, put my own miles  in, like moralis, figured that they’re jealous, that they could just never tell us to change because the weather never made me question whether or not i’m not that level

Got rid of all the bullshit sitting in my way, most of them are full of shit i see it every day

I do hearing the same things that i do, maybe that shits hitting like haiku

How much do you pay for them to hype you

Recycle your flaws but they aint like new, leaving and conceded and full of diesel like engines that need a cleaning, the ending will be revealing. Even though we ain’t raising the facts, now we been facing.

20:01-20:52

The cactus with spikes, needing spaces. Different faces, the same story. A full body like straight body direct to your system.

Could never tell 'em we missed’ em. Not even with the thoughts, we gift them. Cuz they just take advantage, guess we are caught in a system.

My soul pouring out details of borrowed time, had enough of a fill, this is for sorrow time. I’m seeing visions of Heaven, I seen the severed line, between the gospel they speak and when theyre telling lies.

Remember telling a friend of mine, you’d sent of mine, identified like a 3rd eye. Got a habit of knowing now where the dirt lies. So benign. I ain’t sober after 9, so I fuck their minds. Why you flipping out, see another

Try to rep it from the city, fuck a chiller crew, repping for the nittys, trying to keep us down, raised on the social, don’t want to let us out of the system. Me, I insist we assist them, me alone putting shifts til I lift them

20:53-21:12

I know it’s hard, that’s why I like it, I’m fit to fight it, I’m from the North, I’m backing Tyson, it’s been decided, don’t see no light. They needing guiding, just redefining, realizing, I’m realigning, in full finance, they stay silenced.

Can’t be louder, I’m juiced up with no powder. I fix shit like a slick spanner. Gone green like Bruce Banner. So free Gaza on my banner

21:12-21:51

The real McCoy, I ain’t nothing to toy with, signifying peace like a Japanese Koi Fish. How did this happen, we’re moving backwards in our timeline, killing us with cyanide, Right up for the freedom 'til we transform like Ironhide

This is bout my feelings, the way that I move affects the fate that I’m sealing. Can’t say nothing, with that something being on the page, kept inside the pen like the bars that have been kept caged. See I always had a plan, since I was young, we had nothing man

Now it’s been a few years since I ain’t seen the fam, on foreign lands. Bout to climb Everest in the avalanche. Right into the riddles as soon as you were born. Never asking the question cuz it’s the norm. See I’m in a questionin’ session

21:52-22:03

Like the manner got a method to teaching a lesson, listen to MF Doom, he taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten. Still we play cartoons so it’s never forgotten.

22:03-22:15

Chilling at the top but we came from the bottom. Writing and jottin for them life by, spotting the difference

*Dreams, was growing out of me, sun promising that tomorrow it will rise, time playing games with my mind, I swear it will pass us by

Train goes on the tracks, smoke, I’m tired to hide my thoughts, so blinded in flames, Don’t know where we’re going, I have no way of knowing, only see what’s in my head

Can’t we wait a minute, so we can savour this, It’s on my brain again, these days, It on my brain again these days”

23:10-23:46

They’re hating on Palestine ways, The oh no Palace playing Prince on the Steinway, Sending out mind waves, stop them like crimewaves, Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name

Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing

We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route, say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown

I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.. Done ain’t it, Shit just gets me vexed, and now I’m sitting that I think of it

23:45-23:59

Feeling on the brink of it, whatever it is, Figure out some shit at least it feels that way

talk about my feelings and I don’t feel so strange, finding solace, that’s a promise, in Metropolis but being honest, can’t write a sonnet, without some pain

24:00-24:40

Can’t fade away, away so we can savour this, been on my brain again these days

Can't find a way to be so you can savour this, been on my brain these days

Singing the song for another, singing a song for another

[mail-me-a-snail]

Sobriety

Chase Brody has been doing everything to combat his alcoholism; going to AA, therapy, being social, exercising...and yet it still isn’t enough. One afternoon, a year after his divorce, Jackie drives him home. tw: alcoholism, panic attacks, car accident ment, suicide ment.

"So, how was it?"

 Chase shrugs, both to slide his backpack off and to answer. He puts the bag in the backseat, then twists back around to buckle himself in. Jackie, mask off and in a plain red hoodie and worn jeans, as opposed to his jumpsuit, sits in the driver's seat, fingers drumming against the wheel in sync with whatever metal is playing on the stereo, Chase doesn't know—he's too tired to go through the challenge of deciphering the lyrics. The chaotic banging of drums and rippling guitar riffs about sum up the state his head's at.

 "It was fine," he says coolly, "I guess. Todd brought his guitar this time." Todd—Todd Danvers—being the head of the group. Great guy, might've made it as a part of the church ensemble, if he hadn't drunken so much wine like every meal was communion. Washed his face in the tub of holy water they have at the door, that's what Todd had told them all, that first day, when Chase was still having the shakes.

 "What'd he sing?" Jackie glances over at him as he twists the key in the ignition. The car hums to life, and they pull out of the center's parking lot with a low rumble.

 "Pretty cover of What Have They Done To You Know. Daniel Knox? Funny, you wouldn't think a guy like him would be into that kind of indie music."

 Jackie laughs, though it's not as bubbly as Chase thought it would be. It's more like an exhale Jackie leans into.

 There's no conversation that follows, so the clicking turn signal, honking cars passing by, and radio fill the silence. He's gotten better at his anxiety with cars. Chase picks at the neon bandages on his fingers—the story is that he tried rather unsuccessfully to build a shelf—nails, all that, you know—but that's not what happened.

 Promise a man, a very wasted, high off his rocker man, a few hundred bucks and he just might cut his whole hand off for you. He'll play the knife game like a roulette wheel, spinning and spinning, until he hits the jackpot, or until he has no fingers.

 Nicks for nickels, that's what his buddies down at the bar say. Nicks for nickels. Money isn't easy to come by lately and he doesn't want to have to depend on Jackie's or his brothers' help for the rest of his life. It isn't fair.

 So, he works, doing odds and ends and stupid dares, because the companies in the city aren't hot on having a recovering alcoholic under their brand. We'll call you back. Your resume looks great, Mr. Brody, you'll be at the top of our list. You'll be a fine employee.

 Ha. Right. Three weeks later? Not a single call, nor email. Nicks for nickels again those nights that followed.

 "Where's your mind at, Chase?" Jackie says amiably, once they're on the long stretch of road heading towards the house. "What're you thinking about?"

 "My shelf," Chase answers, trying his best to sound mournful, stretching his bandaged fingers out in front of him, "Hurt like a son of a bitch to put it together."

 Jackie's mouth presses down into a flat line. He says nothing for a few moments. He changes the station. Something light and electric plays.

 “You know, you could've called me," Jackie says eventually, when they've hit the chorus. "I'm a champ at furniture building. You should see Henrik's desk now; beautiful, if I do say so myself."

 He may sound proud, but he's still frowning.

 Chase picks at the hem of his ratty grey hoodie; he doesn't even remember where he got it.

 "I handled Patricia myself," he shrugs.

 "Patricia—the shelf has a name now?" That gets a laugh out of the hero, and Chase smiles a bit. Jackie's laugh had always been infectious. "Well, you did a fine job, in any case."

 "You're right, though: I'm not as good as you and JJ at that furniture stuff," Chase admits, and cuts Jackie off before he can protest. "No, no, it's true. I've always been the tech guy."

 "'suppose so," Jackie amends. He pauses, turns the radio down, then asks hesitantly, "Chase, how'd you hurt your hands?"

 The lie comes instantly. "I told you, Jackie—Patricia fought me tooth and nails!"

 "No, Chase, that's not what happened." Jackie's voice is firm, if not stern. It's a scolding tone of voice that only Henrik uses with Chase, so it makes him look away in guilt. "Please. Tell me what's really going on. If—If someone's hurting you, or something, I'll—"

 "—No, Jackie, it's not like that! I..." Chase rises on the defense.

 "Then, what is it, Chase?"

 "It's none of your damn business!" He can't stop his voice from raising. He's quick to anger these days—an after affect of the drinking.

 "I'm your brother!" He's still looking at the road. His grip is tight on the steering wheel. "Of course it's my damn fucking business! I'm worried about you Chase, and—"

 "I don't need you to look after me!"

 "Then, who will, Chase? Henrik? Marvin? Jamie? Fucking Robbie? If I don't look after you, you'll...you'll hurt yourself again and I can't let that happen!"

 "I can handle myself."

 "Clearly, you can't."

 "Oh, because I'm a screw-up, is that it? I'm a nobody who isn't good at anything, who almost killed himself—"

 "Stop it."

 "—is that it, Jackie? Is it because I'm a suicidal disaster?"

 "You know what?" Jackie punctuates, "Maybe that is it." Maybe you are a fucking screw-up."

 The anger and disappointment in his voice is so raw it silences. He knows that this is just a row, but it still terrifies him, the way Jackie sounds so much like...Anti.

 Blood rushes through his eardrums and it feels like he's about to burst. His heart runs a hundred miles a second and it hurts. He can feel his pulse behind his eyes, in his fingertips, in his mouth. Jackie disappears from his view as the edges of his version grow black.

 He can't breathe.

 Is this what a heart attack is?

 The world shifting in and out of focus, like a bad camera, and the road disappearing, like the headlights were never there, like he isn't in a car again, barrelling down a street he can barely see, with the kids in the back, and God, Stacy, I know, okay? I know! Please, don't yell—please don't yell at me! I'm trying not to drink anymore—N-No, I'm not drunk— in the front seat, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel tight, and he is, in fact, drunk, so the world is swimming around him and, CHASE—!

 The windshield shatters into a million pieces.

 It happens so slowly Chase can touch the glass as it flies past him. He's in the driver's seat now. He looks to his right, and Stacy is there, beautiful Stacy, her face smacking into the dashboard. He looks down at himself. He's uninjured. He's wearing a ratty grey hoodie, red Converse, blue jeans. In his reflection in the rear view mirror, his brown hair has green strokes; he had done a poor dyeing job.

 Chase closes his eyes.

 "What is real?" His therapist's voice comes back to him, clinical and calm. In this moment, in this panic—ask yourself, "What is real and what isn't?"

 He opens his eyes.

 Real: He is uninjured.

 Not real: Stacy and the kids are here at this moment.

 “R-Real," he whispers, "I am in a car. Not real: it's S-Stacy's car." He looks around to the backseat, but can't bear to look at the kids. He keeps his gaze on the floor. "Real: m-my backpack is on the seat. Not r-real: the kids are here."

 He dares to look up. His backpack is there, black and canvas, with multiple patches. It's half open. Inside are comic books and his laptop. He twists back around, staring head-on at the blank, empty road, like someone forgot to continue building the rest of the world. Either that or there is no world outside of this one car crash.

 A car crash that happened all of two years ago. He's surprised that his other regular nightmare isn't here.

 One night in March (it was now September), he had gotten a visit from their eldest brother. Chase had been drunk at the time, swearing and bawling, so when Anti showed up...Chase did the stupid thing: he took a swing at the demon, thinking he was going to take something else away from him. Of course, he didn't like that.

 A scar, eight or nine inches deep, on his abdomen twitches. He puts a hand to it. That had been the night he swore off drinking, for good.

 "Lots of good it did you."

 Chase jumps, and screams when he catches two empty black pits staring at him intently from the rear view mirror. That voice. Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

 "Y-You're not real," he says, voice cracking out of pure terror, "You a-aren't real!"

 :Oh, I'm very real, Chase," Anti appears beside him in the passenger seat, clipping through Stacy, who's blood drips in slow motion. He is just as demonic as Chase remembers him; black, empty eyes that dripped like ink down his pale cheeks, all black attire, his Converse up on the dashboard, and the grossly shiny red gash across his neck. He almost looks like Jack, in a way.

 "N-Not real, not real—"

 "Say it all you want, Brody, but I am real. I've come to finish the job."

 "W-What?"

 "Hold still."

 A hand closed around his neck, pushing him back, his head smacking into the car door. He cries out, arms lashing wildly and legs thrashing, but Anti isn't deterred. The knife glints above his head. The shards of glass reflect upon it, making it shimmer in all sorts of colors. The radio goes wild; static, static static, filling the world, making Chase's ears ring with its volume.

 "D-Don't do this, please, God, fuck, don't—What do you want from me?!"

 Anti smiles. His eyes turn grey-blue, white scleroses. His gash disappears.

 He's a perfect reflection of Jack.

 "Sobriety," he says, in Jack's achingly calm, innocent voice, "Is that too much to ask, Chase?"

 "Fuck, no, no, please—!"

 The knife comes down into his heart.

 "Chase?"

 Anti's...Jack's voice echoes in his ears. It sounds so far away.

 Not real: Jack talking to him.

 "Chase?"

 Real: he's about to die.

 "—CHASE!"

 He jolts awake, panting for air like he had been drowning. His face, neck, and shirt are certainly wet; he's sweating bullets. His hands are shaking something awful. Chase swings his gaze around, trying to take in everything at once.

 "No, Chase, please—l-look, look at me!" Hands touch his cheeks gently and he flinches. They return, directing his eyes forward. Jack...no, not Jack—the hair is a neon green...Jackie. Jackie looks at him in worry, blue-grey eyes looking over him. His touch is warm. His hands are shaking. He's got tears in his eyes, but his breaths are controlled. That's the Jackie he knows—never truly removing the mask.

 "J...Jackie?" His heartbeat is still thumping wildly, but it's slowing down, as he can feel it in his jaw. His brain feels like molasses. "I don't...what..."

 "I pulled over," Jackie drops his hands, but holds Chase's in both. "I didn't mean to call you that, I'm sorry!"

 Chase blinks slowly. He looks out the windshield, unbroken, rain dropping in fat splats, the window wipers working overtime—when the hell had it started raining?—and they are pulled over. They're in front of a house he recognizes as being part of the neighborhood. They're not too far from home. The sun is setting, but the sky is too grey to tell where. The clouds are dark and stormy. People rush by the car and into their homes, some with umbrellas, others caught without.

 "N-No, Jackie, it's...it's my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you." His words come back to him and they fill him with shame.

 "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that, either. I didn't...you're not a screw-up."

 "I am." He shakes his head, tears blotting his eyes, drops falling onto his pants. He hiccups. "I'm s-such a fucking m-mess, Jackie."

 The seatbelt unclips beside him and warm arms envelope him. He lets Jackie hug him, unclipping his own seatbelt. They stay there for a moment. Two.

 Chase comes clean.

 Nicks for nickels. The bar. His "friends."

 Most importantly of all, the drinks. You don't go to a bar and not have a drink. He doesn't drink until he's blackout drunk anymore, but he drinks enough to be numb. He's relapsed. He was only able to slip in AA the following day after a strong shot of vodka and some breath mints. The whole session, he had been hammered by a hangover.

 Jackie listens silently, but the weight of his disappointment bears down on Chase's shoulders like an anvil.

 "Chase..." He starts, but the other shakes his head frantically.

 “I know."

 "You're not supposed to drink anymore."

 "I know."

 "I'll... I'll talk to Todd tomorrow, your therapist, too. They have to know about this."

 "N-No, Jackie, I have to tell them myself." Having their disappointment on his mind would destroy him, but he needs just a little bit of control of what's happening. "But promise me one thing?"

 "Anything."

 Chase bites his lip.

 "Don't t-tell the others." Jackie opens his mouth to protest. "No, Jackie, y-you have to promise me this. Not Henrik, Marvin, or any of the others...I don't want them to know about this. I don't w-want them to think I'm weaker than they already think I am. And I know they do. I know all of you do. And y-you're all right."

 "You are not weak."

 "I relapsed." Chase rubs his face with his palms. "It hasn't even been six months."

 "Chase," Jackie says firmly, "Look at me."

 When he does, hesitantly, the hero takes a breath.

 "Chase Brody Mcloughlin, you are the strongest person I know," he starts, "because despite all you've been through, you are still here. You are still living and breathing and I know it hurts, but you are so incredibly brave for surviving. I am proud of you, even if you've relapsed. This road you're driving down, it's not an easy path. I don't have to tell you that for you to know. There'll be bumps and detours but...I'll always be here for you. We'll always be here. Anytime you need us. I'll help you get back on the road. I promise."

 That is why Jackie is Chase's hero. Despite everything, anger and pain and injustice...he still manages to be kind.

 Chase nearly starts bawling. He bites down on his knuckles and just nods. He can't say much, so Jackie turns the engine on.

 "Let's go home."

  --

 They park near the sidewalk. The rain has lightened to a drizzle. The clouds are clearing. The stars are coming out. The lawn is wet with dew. The lights in the living room are on.

 Chase feels sick looking at the house. His eyes and nose are stuffy and red and he has a headache coming on. He can't hide the fact that he's been crying. Years of dealing with Anti has trained his brothers to notice the smallest of details.

 "Chase," Jackie murmurs, "if...if you are serious about being able to handle yourself, I...well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but there's this apartment in the city that I've saved. I haven't spent anything on it, but...if you want, I can help you get it. Contribute a little. The rest can be up to you. I'll help you get a job, even."

 Chase looks at him, unsure. "Really?"

 “Yeah. I know you've spent most of your life away from us and it's a bit of a shock to be caged in with us again, so..."

 He loves them, but the house is stuffy. He misses his old apartment, but he had missed his brothers, too.

 "Thanks, Jackie," he says, "I'll...I'll have to think about it."

 "Okay. Take your time."

  --

 At dinner, no one suspects a thing.

 Jamie fills him in on Robbie's garden—it's going smoothly, with beautiful, flowering succulents. For a zombie, it's no surprise he has a green thumb, he jokes, and Chase laughs.

 Marvin teaches him a card trick, much to Henrik's disdain; no magic at the dinner table, he scolds them like a mother hen.

 Jackie watches him from across the table. He can feel his gaze boring into his skull.

 The dining room is warm and full of life. Chase isn't completely involved mentally, but he's enjoying the sounds of dinnerware and conversation. He's not sure what they're having for dinner, either, but it's good. He just feels so out of it because of the emotional roller-coaster that was today.

 The prospect of having a new apartment and a stable job...it terrified him, because what would happen if he relapsed again?

 He tries to still his hands when he drinks water.

  --

  "Goodnight, Chase," Jackie kisses the top of his head, then goes to the doorway of his room.

 “Goodnight. Thanks, Jackie. For today."

 Jackie smiles and says nothing. He shuts his door.

 Chase goes into his room and closes the door behind him. The bed is messy, but he doesn't care. He slides right into it, tossing his phone onto the desk, and closing his eyes.

 He feels the small grooves of scars along his fingers—he had finally taken off the bandages. More scars, more tallies. One on his abdomen, a few on his wrists...a bullet scar on his scalp. He doesn’t even have the gun anymore. Jackie had surrendered it to the police. He still feels the ghost sensation of cool metal on his palm.

 He sits up and crosses the hall, knocking softly on Jackie's door.

 "Come in," the hero's voice floats from behind it. He opens the door.

 Jackie is lying on his bed in his somehow neat room, with a shelf full of comic books arranged by series and brand. His hoodie is slung over the back of his desk chair. He looks up from his phone when Chase stands in the doorway.

 "What's up, Chase?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

 Chase shuffles his feet.

 "Can I...can I bunk with you tonight? It's just that I, I can't stop thinking about it all, and I'm...I'm scared."

 "It's no problem, buddy," Jackie's expression softens, and he moves over, patting the space beside him. "Come 'ere."

 Chase settles in, hesitantly, putting his head on Jackie's chest. He can hear the hero's heartbeat and breath. It's a comforting sound.

"Thank you," Chase whispers.

 "Anything for my little brother," Jackie smiles. "Goodnight."

 "Goodnight."

 He's terrified of building a new life for himself because if he relapses it will all come crashing down again. He doesn't know if he can handle that.

 But he has to try.

 As much as it hurts, he has to. If not for himself, for Henrik, Marvin, Jamie, Robbie...and Jackie.

 For Jack.

 It's what he would've wanted.

And that’s what makes his relapse so crushing.

[himbowelsh]

You can totally ignore this if you want but I could I request some sad headcanons about the guys. Like how they deal with ptsd or insecurities or traumatic childhood incidents.

Richard Winters

dick isn’t emotionally open in general.  he keeps things in.  that’s how he was raised, how he’s grown up, and the only way he really knows how to cope with things.  talking about his feelings...  is uncomfortable.

that said, he processes them well.  dick doesn’t let negative emotions fester.  he finds releases for them, either through doing things he enjoys or spending time around his loved ones.  he’s not the sort of person to linger on things.

will definitely overwork himself when his mind is in a troubled place.   being productive helps him so much.  focusing on things he can control, things that need to get done...  sure, he’s going to bed at 3am, but it’s not because he’s upset, it’s because he was working.

doesn’t...  like being alone when things are on his mind.  it’s too easy to get sucked in, for those loud thoughts to drown everything else out.  being around other people...  not sharing, but just not being alone...  it helps.

Lewis Nixon

*summon the folger’s theme song*  the best part of waking up...  is an obscene amount of high-shelf liquor in your cup!!

hey, it’s nine o’clock...  in the morning.

literally.  nix is of the opinion that if you can’t drink the bad thoughts away, then they’re not worth thinking at all.  the thing is, his brain summons them anyways, because brains are awful like that.

he’s got a lot of trauma!!  so much trauma!!  his childhood was miserable, his family’s the worst, he feels like a disappointment and has no desire to try to prove himself to parents whose love was questionable from the day he was born...

lots of insecurities too.  can you tell?

he won’t talk about any of it unless he’s really, really drunk, with someone he counts among his closest friends.  then sometimes the negativity just rushes out.  he can’t help it, and it gets ugly.

otherwise, he broods, he holds it all in, and he drinks.  would he benefit from therapy?  yes, absolutely, but alcoholism tastes so much better.

Carwood Lipton

this is a healthy man right here

he copes with things.  lip has interests, outlets he can channel his frustrations into, and the ability to rationalize things internally and get them off his chest.  most things don’t weigh on him for long, because he’s got those sweet coping skills.

this isn’t even angsty.  he doesn’t have a lot of emotional angst.  he works through things, mostly by processing them on his own  ---  but if something’s really weighing on him, lip will turn to his most trusted person  (his mother gives great advice)  for an outlet.

Ron Speirs

heh heh.  ohhhh boy.

he’s...  he’s speirs, okay.  he’s not gonna open up and talk about what’s bothering him, because that’s his business, and no one else needs to know.

ron...  gets impulsive.  reckless.  places less regard on his own life.  he’ll do obscenely risky things because he’s kind of an adrenaline junkie; that burst of danger actually helps him cope with what’s bothering him.  at least, it gives him a good reason to keep going.

he retreats into himself when it comes to anything emotional.   broods a little, but if anyone asks what’s on his mind, he won’t say a word. 

“well, we’re all on a steady march towards death anyways, does anything really matter?  no.  i’m already dead so nothing has any consequences.  yeet.”

jesus christ, get this man some therapy.

Harry Welsh

talks it out.  literally, he’s just... gonna share things.  he’ll literally just do that.

harry sometimes can be an oversharer, but he never really learned to put a filter on his emotions.  it helps that he’s sort of the “water off a duck’s back” type of person; he doesn’t take a lot of things personally, so when he does need to rant about something, it’s usually big.  he turns to his loved ones, because he trusts them, and usually they can help.

but it is kind of weird for guys like nixon and winters, whose life mottos are “i’ll keep all of my emotions right here and then someday i’ll die”, to hear harry be like  “I’M UPSET TODAY AND HERE’S WHY”.  like...  he really doesn’t care who knows what’s going on in his soul, huh?  he’s really able to open up like that.

(harry is the most emotionally healthy man here, good for him)

Buck Compton

it’s called impostor syndrome, and buck has it.

he’s a confident guy, but under the surface, has insecurity in spades  ---  he feels like he has a lot to live up to, and doesn’t believe he’s doing everything well enough.  he’s supposed to be exceptional, and that’s a heavy burden to bear.  there’ll be a part of him that’s always going to feel like he’s not good enough.

like...  he seriously doesn’t know quite where to begin when processing negative emotions, because he feels like he should be able to deal with them himself.  his first instinct isn’t to talk it out, or seek out positive outlets; he keeps it all inside because he feels he can handle it.

don’t get me wrong, buck handles things well  ---  he’s resilient.   but every so often, the emotions just get so overwhelming, and boil up like a toxic spill inside of him; it can get overwhelming.  

Eugene Roe

conceal don’t feel buddy

look, gene...  never acquired coping skills growing up.  it wasn’t anyone’s first priority, and he had too many sisters monopolizing his mother’s time.  as a kid, gene had genuine anger issues, and would get into trouble often, because he just...  didn’t know how to deal with what he was feeling.

his grandmother was the one who stepped in and taught him how to pray.  that’s the closest thing gene has to comfort; he is quietly devout, and turns to god in his darkest moments when desperate for some guidance.  if he can’t talk to anyone else about what he’s feeling  ---  and he usually prefers not to  ---  he can speak freely to god.

but god can’t help him shoulder his burdens.  genuinely, gene just needs to learn to open up and share. keeping everything bottled up...  is not good for him.

George Luz

laugh the pain away, until you no longer can.

people assume george luz processes his emotions in a healthy way.  these people are incorrect.  his “fake it til you make it approach” isn’t the worst, but 9/10 therapists would not recommend.   (the 10th is luz, doing his best impression of a therapist.)

he laughs things off. it’s easier than to do that than to let people in.  george hates burdening others with his feelings.  he’s got a natural talent for keeping peoples’ spirits up, so bringing them down with him is...  a frightening idea.  it feels like failure.

for the most part, george is good at keeping things in and processing them internally.  if something’s really bothering him, people close can tell  ---  he hardly smiles, and his jokes aren’t as funny as they are dark  ---  but he’s usually able to recover without any help.  he’s good at dealing with things on his own.

he tries not to drink too much, because if he gets really really drunk, he loses his grip.  then it can all come spilling out, in a big messy wave of feelings, and he’d prefer to avoid that at all costs.

oh gosh, there’s this amazing fic that actually centers around babe and roe dealing with their problems, but there’s this one scene with luz, and it breaks me

Joe Toye

in a word?  not well.

joe dealing with things...  is not a pretty picture.  he prefers to not deal with things, to be honest, because it’s easier to pretend all the emotional shit doesn’t exist and just push it down until he can’t feel it anymore.  sometimes it even works.

truth is, joe has a lot of insecurities, and really struggles to deal with them.  they plague him]...  and while he can channel some of it into anger  (there’s a reason my modern!toye takes up kickboxing)  a lot of it just gets sent straight to depression central.

it’s not something he talks about easily, either.   he wasn’t raised in an environment that encouraged men talking about their feelings; joe comes from a tough irish family where everyone, especially the men, are supposed to keep a stern face and power through.  he’s only able to opens up to a few trusted people   (malarkey, maybe guarnere, maybe luz).  when the emotions reach a boiling point...  they don’t have anywhere to go.  they feel like they’re going to consume him.

he’s contemplated some dark things before, and it’s not something he’s proud of.

Bill Guarnere

what the hell is this man even made of???

bill takes all his negative emotions and converts them into fuel.    every tear his body forces him to shed adds an extra year to his life.

he’s incredibly resilient, and can power through pretty much anything.  losing his leg didn’t take him out for long; sure, it was a blow, but he bounced back from it as strong as ever.  losing his brother was agonizing  (worse than the leg, honestly)  and it made bill furious  ---  but that fury kept him going, and kept him alive.   he reacts to grief by turning it into anger, and once that anger dulls it’s just raw energy keeping him moving.

bill copes by being around people.  honestly  ---  just put him in a room with his best friends and his problems gradually fade out.   it’s not like he bares his soul to them; he just needs to be around friends, enjoying life. their presence helps him work through things better than any therapist.

(peak extrovert energy omg)

Babe Heffron

just like bill, babe also recovers by being around his favorite people.

he draws energy from them; it’s like he’s low on cash, so he asks his buddies for a few dollars, but in this case it’s emotional stability.  babe just copes better around other people.

left alone with his own thoughts...  things can get messy.

this man doesn’t do well with being alone in general  ---  he feels isolated, almost forgotten, and will seek out the nearest person just to chase those dark feelings away.  when babe’s struggling with something, he also struggles with how to deal with it.   the emotions are like a pot bubbling over inside of him, and he’s fighting to make sense of them all.  he can’t do that alone.

he has to express himself to someone.  ideally someone he trusts, but it might just end up being whoever’s available, or whoever’s nearby.  his dark emotions are very potent, and very painful; it takes a while for him to be free of them completely, but having someone else help make sense of them  (or just offer reassurance)  helps.

he’s a crier.  he’s not proud of it, but when babe’s really at his brink, he cries.  it’s an ugly sight.

Shifty Powers

just freaking...  goes off into the wilderness.

no, literally.  shifty needs some quiet time.  when he’s struggling, he’ll take his gun, take his car, and vanish for a while.   (that sounds...  worse than it is.  shifty’s not the kind of person to consider hurting himself.)    he just disappears into the woods.   

the longest he’s ever been gone was two whole days...  but he always returns with a clear head, willing to talk things out.

Joe Liebgott

he just...  straight up doesn’t, man.  he doesn’t deal with shit.  he pushes it aside, forces it back  ---  it’s not exactly repression, because the Bad Stuff is always there on the outskirts of his mind at all times, lieb just actively chooses not to deal with it.

(he’ll pick any fight except the ones in his own head.)

you’ve got to understand, he’s had his share of trauma.  he didn’t have an easy go of it before the war, and definitely not during.  liebgott collects emotional baggage like baseball cards, and at this point he’s got a full set.

if he can run from the emotions, he will.  this leads him to self-isolate, cutting himself off from the people who might be able to help; he doesn’t want to share all the negative emotions, because he doesn’t know how.  at his worst, he also tends to lash out, and...  other people don’t have to deal with that, okay?

joe will put off dealing with things for as long as possible, and never truly deal with them at all.

David Kenyon Webster

writing is literally his therapy.  putting his emotions down on paper helps.  formulating them into words is like a release, and having them laid out in front of him, where he can analyze it all lets him look at the problem objectively.  webster writes just to get things out...  sometimes because he can’t bear to hold it all inside any longer.

he also loves sailing, partly because of how freeing it is to be out on the open water.  he’s completely in control of his boat, and can go anywhere, anywhere in the world  ---  if he wanted, he could leave everything behind.  the notion is tantalizing.

webster really isn’t open about his negative feelings with others.  when it’s something personal...  it takes a lot for him to open up, and he’d have to trust that person implicitly.  a part of him feels that baring his emotions is just an invitation to be mocked, so he’s hesitant.

at least he processes them.  he’s not tormented by things, because he’s got his releases  ---  writing, and sailing.  if the mind is a prison, they set him free.

Donald Malarkey

catch malarkey right there in that kickboxing class with joe toye

look.  don feels things deeply, and takes things personally.  he can’t help it.  he doesn’t let go of things; if he’s been hurt badly, it’s an open wound on his soul forever, and it never heals.

he’s never a wreck.  like, he’s perfectly able to function, and has a unique ability to power through even in the darkest moments...  but those shadows are always there, and they weigh on him.  they smother him.   he can never really escape.

tends to avoid the topics which hurt him; when they come up, he can get testy  ---  or worse, teary!!  ---   and that’s not something he wants to burden anyone else with.     his greatest hurts are very private things to him, and he doesn’t want the people he cares about affected by them.

Skip Muck

skip channels his bad feelings into energy, and that energy needs to find its way out.

he’ll play guitar and sing along really aggressively.  he’ll deep-clean the entire house.  he’ll run just to feel the burn in his lungs, the ache in his limbs, until he’s too worn out to feel anything but exhaustion.

honestly, he gets a little manic when something’s bothering him.   he needs to chill.

skip is...  more willing than most to talk things out, so long as he has someone he trusts.   it’s not too hard for him to open up, he just needs to be able to open up to the right people.  his sister is a frequent confidant, as are malarkey and penkala.   skip doesn’t like many people seeing the darker side of him, but being able to talk about his feelings helps immensely.

Ralph Spina

genuinely... doesn’t have any baggage.

no childhood trauma.  no agonizing breakup story or betrayals.  no emotional damage whatsoever.  and when something is bothering him, his instinct is to just talk it out, and then it’s done. this man sleeps like a baby.

it’s freaky.

[justanotherlifeff]

Chapter 1

21 July 2314

Musutafu, Japan

The dark cityscape was suddenly illuminated by an explosion in one of the factories of the industrial district. The factories were closed for the day and the workers already went home, something that brought peace into All Might’s mind as victims were the last thing this operation needed. It took them 10 years to locate her. He couldn’t imagine what the poor girl must’ve gone through. In the year 2304, when All Might defeated All for one, the police found several experimentation documents in his hideout. Experiments on creating a weapon to kill All Might. While All for one was the strongest villain to walk the Earth, face to face combat with All Might was something that he wanted to avoid.

The documents mentioned of a girl, age 3 as of then, being given multiple psychological quirks as a fetus. She was the daughter of All for one’s two faithful followers, Empath and Boost. According to the documents, the girl inherited both her parent’s quirks, which were emotional manipulation and quirk enhancement also known as boost, as well as the quirks given to her by All for one, which were, telekinesis, portal creation and time travel. While her quirks were taken from mediocre quirk holders by All for one, her father’s boost made them all uncontrollably strong. A small trigger could make her lose control and cause widespread destruction. However, a quirk that strong comes with drawbacks. Due to her powers being psychological in nature, it increases the movements of her blood cells abnormally, making her blood vessels expand, causing intense pain that may make her lose consciousness. It doesn’t just stop at that. Her quirk doesn’t automatically deactivate when she loses consciousness. Instead, it grows stronger and continues it’s destruction in a much larger scale. The scale of destruction, according to the documents were unknown as there was no experiment done on that yet. To make sure that she doesn’t lose consciousness from the pain, a training regime was created for the three year old. According to the document, the training regime consisted of multiple forms of torture which were so gruesome that it made All Might wince just thinking about it. “I hope she’s alive.” All Might thought before attacking the villain’s base.

The explosion woke you. You were tied up in your room as usual. The light bulb in your room bursted and small shelf broke apart. It always happened when you got startled. “What’s that sound?” you wondered as you sat in the dark room. You weren’t allowed to feel things. Atleast unless they were experimenting on you. However, sometimes you just couldn’t help it. The explosion scared you. You can’t be making these mistakes or the experiments will hurt even more. You sat alone in the darkness till the door was opened by a man. “Is it time for experiments already?” you wondered. “Get up, Nomu. We need to get out of this place” your father hissed at you as he started opening your cuffs. “Why do they call me Nomu?” you wondered yet again. You wondered why ever since you found out what it meant. You were homeschooled by a teacher that your parents kidnapped. The teacher was scared of you. Everyone was scared of you except your parents and aniki... You were scared of your parents. In a flash, your face was splattered with blood as something punched your father, breaking the wall. As you looked at the man before her, only one thing came across your mind. “He killed father… He’s stronger than father… He will kill me now…” you thought as fear consumed you. Just as the man turned his attention towards you, you backed away, shouting “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” with a hoarse tone. The lack of speaking made your throat feel raw. “Don’t worry! I’m here to save…” the man started but you already lost control of your powers. The next thing All Might knew was that he was sent flying alongside the debris of the building.

“Eraser head, seems like I’ll be needing your help after all.” All Might said as he approached the black haired pro hero. They were standing outside the industrial district along with a group of police. After being thrown off by the young girl’s telekinesis, All Might decided to regroup. Your radius of destruction seemed to increase by the minute. You seemed like you were trying her best to control your powers but so far, you were failing. Your expression made it clear to All Might that you were scared. All they needed to do was have a conversation with you without her powers getting in the way. “Is she an enemy? Why did she turn her power on?” Eraser head asked All Might in a monotonic voice. “She’s just scared. I could see it in her face. This is all self defence. It seems like she doesn’t have much control on her quirk.” All Might answered. “I see. Now what do you propose we do?” Eraser head asked. “We need to hurry. Her destructive radius is increasing as we speak. I’ll carry you close enough to her and you need to erase her quirk. There is no other way to stop this.” All Might answered. Other than Eraser head and All Might, no other heroes were informed of this as it was a top secret mission. If the general public found out about the existance of an anti All Might weapon, they would panic. After all, you were a wild card, there was no guarantee that you would be on the hero’s side. The plan was put into action as All Might picked Eraser head up and used Detroit smash to propel himself closer to the epicentre of the flying debris. There you were, levitating, pulling on your own hair to make yourself focus on controlling your powers but yet, failing. It didn’t take long for Eraser head to locate you and erase your quirk. With that, you started falling down, though, All Might quickly caught you and brought you to safety on one of the nearby roofs all while making sure that Eraser head doesn’t lose focus on you.

You were ready to run as soon as All Might put you down. However, you fell on your feet wincing in pain. While you were wearing a T shirt and sweatpants, it didn’t stop All Might from noticing the blue veins that showed through your skin. Your face was full of blue marks, half her hands and your feet as well. Your blood vessels were expanded enough to show on your skin and All Might could only imagine how painful that must be. “Please don’t kill me” you blurted out. Your (E/C) pupils were dilated with fear. They were milky white when you were using your quirk. “Young lady, we are not going to kill you. We are here to help you. Please calm down and listen to us. We won’t hurt you.” All might told you in a gentle tone. No one ever spoke to you like this. “But… You killed him… My father…” you stammered. “Calm down, young lady. I did not kill your father. However, I cannot guarantee his safety anymore since as the debris fell, there’s a high chance that he is dead. I’m sorry about it. The same goes for your mother.” All might explained with a grim yet gentle voice. “I… I killed them?” you asked, wide eyed. You didn’t look sad, infact, you almost looked relieved. “We don’t know that yet. We are here to rescue you. Your parents are villains and they hurt people. We want to give you a chance to change your life. You can learn to control your power without being hurt and you can make friends and have a nice family.” Eraser head told her monotonously. “Yes that’s right young lady! So, would you come with us?” All might smiled at you, holding out a hand. You looked at them for a while and held All might’s hand. “Kill them if they aren’t dead already. They would come back to hurt me if you don’t.” you muttered. “Don’t worry. No one is going to hurt you. You are under our care now. By the way, what’s your name?” All might reassured you and asked you your name. “They called me Nomu.” you answered. “Nomu? Brainless?” All might asked, confused. “She was just a weapon of destruction to them, without her own will. Hence the name ‘Nomu’ or brainless” Eraser head predicted. “Well, we will give her a new name in that case! Let’s go!” All Might said cheerfully before picking you up and heading to where the police were waiting. Eraser head stopped erasing your quirk long ago but it seemed as if the news of your parent’s apparent death and the promise of safety calmed you.

Your POV

March 20 2316

Musutafu, Japan

My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I was the daughter of two villains, Empath and Boost. It was later revealed that my father’s last name was (L/N) and thus, I inherited the name while one of the nurses in Musutafu public hospital gave me my first name as they did a health check-up on me after I was brought to the police. Due to the heavy destruction I caused in the industrial district, my identity had to be published. Now that my existance was no longer a secret, no public school dared to enroll someone as risky as I am and so, with some help from All might and dad (I call Mr Aizawa dad now since he has.been a father figure to me ever since I was rescued), I was admitted in Soumei Junior high in Tokyo. As dad was in charge of taking care of me, I lived in Musutafu and travelled to Tokyo everyday to go to school. I was never academically excellent, I was more or less an average student. Dad made sure that I get therapy for the last two years, to bring my emotions in control, not by force but by actual professional help. To be fair, it worked. I could control my powers better now unless I got caught off guard by some sudden emotion. It wasn’t like I had to force myself not to feel anything. I just didn’t let it’s intensity get to me. If any emotion such as fear from a tire bursting suddenly got to me, it would end mostly in a broken lightbulb or something close to that. However, it never got worse than this unless I tried to train with dad. There were times when I was close to losing control but dad erased my quirk before that happened. For the daughter of two villains that I accidentally killed, I had a normal life. I couldn’t be more grateful about it. Currently, I was training to get into U.A, the most prestigious hero academy in Japan. It may sound cliche but after All might held out his hand to me two years back, my life changed. If those villains didn’t exist, maybe I could’ve had the normal life I have now for a longer time. Maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with this quirk that makes me stay alert all the time. That could potentially destroy the world if I am not careful enough. Yes, my quirk can destroy the world if I lose control completely. The cameras in the industrial district recorded the damage I caused in a matter of minutes. I still had my consciousness back then and I had control on my power to some extent. The data the scientists in I island collected on my destructive power predicted that without any control, I could level the Earth. Even All might wouldn’t be able to stop it. I had to be careful every second of my life just because of these villains. I couldn’t experience emotions rawly, only because these villains exist. I have therefore decided that I would go to U.A and become the number 1 hero. I would destroy the existance of villains so that no one will ever have to go through the life that I went through.

I was standing in U.A’s practical test ground. I already got in by recommendations but they still decided to take an exam to see if we were good enough to get a recommendation. The exam consisted of a written test, a practical test and an interview. I knew I’d get average grades in the written test as I was always an average student. I had to show them my strength in the practical test. It was a three kilometers long obstacle course. Something that I could end in mere moments. Pro hero Present Mic was in charge of invigilating us. I recognised one of the students standing there at the starting line with me. Endeavour’s son. I didn’t know his name though. Judging by his expression, he didn’t seem to want to talk. “Use your quirks freely to reach the finish line!” Present Mic explained simply before the starting buzzer went off. While others used their powers to run, I merely opened a portal and reached the finish line. “No 17 reaches the finish line in just a second! That’s faster than ever recorded! It wasn’t even a competition!” Present Mic shouted. I just smiled at him slightly as I waited for the others to finish.

“Hello (L/N) chan! I’ll be taking your interview!” Midnight sensei told me as I entered the interview room. She knew me well enough as I lived with dad in UA grounds as dad was the only one who could keep my powers in control in case if something goes wrong and dad lived in his quarters in the UA campus as he is a teacher in UA. Dad had been training me to control my quirk for the past 2 years, however, as I wasn’t enrolled in UA, he couldn’t give me any training to strengthen it as it was against protocol. “Yes, Midnight sensei” I answered with a polite smile. Everyone in the faculty liked me as I was always cheerful and lively. I never failed to be nice to everyone I knew, which is why I had a good relationship with pretty much everyone. After all, I spent years having no one who was remotely nice to me, which is why I didn't want anyone to feel the way I did. Midnight sensei asked me why I wanted to be a hero and I gave the typical textbook answer. Killing villains was against protocol after all. While I did follow the rules, this was something I couldn’t agree with. However, I decided not to let others know about my intention. The interview was bland and it was over as unceremoniously as it started. All I had to do was wait for the acceptance letter.

April 01 2316

Musutafu, Japan

I was supposed to get my acceptance letter today. I already knew what it’d be like. I knew how school life was here in UA. After all I did live here for 2 years. However, I still felt a certain excitement deep down. It only increased when dad knocked on the door to my room to give me the envelope. He stood there as I opened it and found the device. “That’s new” I wondered. Suddenly, a projection started out startling me, hence making me end up breaking yet another light bulb in my room. Dad only shook his head in frustration. He had been trying to get me to stop breaking things every time I got startled by something but so far, it didn’t work. My powers were too annoying… “I am here as a projection!” All might shouted. To be fair, anyone would be startled if the begining of a projection starts with All might shouting. He mentioned that I got accepted into UA and gave a motivational speech. The letter along with device consisted of the class routine, section name, and where to send measurements for the uniform and the hero costume. Apparently I was in Class 1A. “Didn’t you already make a costume design? Let’s go give the support department what they need. There’s no reason to delay things.” dad told me in his usual monotone tone. “Okay. I’ll get dressed.” I told him before he left the room. A small smile formed on my lips. I was getting closer to my aim. My aim to become the number 1 hero.

[still-a-dreamer-even-now]

If You Ever Need a Friend (Stydia AU Songfic)

based on Must Have Been the Wind by Alec Benjamin

This one's dedicated to @fandoms-are-my-therapy

What woke him up was the crash. Glass against the wall, echoing in the space above him. Stiles sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, trying to figure out if the sound had been real or in his sleep. He listened harder. It was quiet for a minute. He closed his eyes and laid back down, trying to fall asleep again.

“Just get out! Just go!”

It was muffled through the ceiling, but the girl's voice was shaky, her words heavy with tears.

Stiles sat up again and looked at the clock. It was past one in the morning. Worry flared in his stomach.

He didn’t know his upstairs neighbor. He’d never met her before. But it sounded like she was pretty hurt. And he felt like he needed to make sure she was alright.

He heard a door slam. Soft sobs tumbled down the walls, which meant they had to be a lot louder than they seemed.

He threw his comforter off and pulled a t-shirt over his shoulders. Grabbing his keys off his kitchen counter, he left his apartment. He rubbed his arms, wishing he had grabbed a warmer shirt. The hallways were always freezing.

He shook his head as he reached to push the elevator button, but did it anyway.

The green number above the door went from two to one. An angry looking boy shoved past him, his hands in his pockets.

Stiles stepped onto the elevator and pushed the button for the second floor. It dinged and the doors opened. The hallway seemed long and he almost talked himself out of it, but the sound of her voice breaking echoed in his mind, so he kept walking. He swallowed and squared his shoulders back. He gave a solid, though not all too loud knock.

“I said leave,” she said through the door, but he heard her footsteps come closer. She must’ve looked through the peephole, because he heard a sniff followed by the lock sliding. She opened the door.

“Hello?” She asked, hugging herself.

“I live in the apartment below you,” he said, rocking on his heels as he spoke, “I heard a crash, I just, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“What?” She asked, messing with the zipper on her shirt.

Her pink sweater had been zipped all the way up. Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way her hair looked against it. Or the way her hazel eyes glinted with tears she was trying to hide.

“I think your ears are playing tricks on you,” she said, tightening her shoulders.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, “Thanks for caring, sir, that’s nice of you.” She glanced back in her room, closing the door a little more. “But I have to go back in.”

“Wait-” He attempted to say, but she closed the door in his face, smiling sweetly. He stared at the door for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do next.

Shaking his head, he slowly treaded back down the hall and to his floor.

He unlocked his door and went inside. Each step away felt wrong.

He laid on the floor in his room, against the chill of the concrete. He couldn’t make himself go into his bedroom to sleep. Not while he felt like he should be doing something.

“You don’t know what’s going on up there, Stiles,” he said to himself. “You don’t have all the facts.”

He wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing himself.

“She shouldn’t be up there alone.”

Sighing, he stood back up.

“I’m really doing this,” he mumbled, locking his door behind him.

He pushed the button on the elevator.

“Yep,” he sighed again, “Really doing this.”

When he knocked the second time, she answered almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “It’s just. I also heard crying. And I, um, didn’t want you to be alone.”

She let out a soft laugh, but it had no humor in it. He’d never heard a laugh be sad before.

She looked around, still fidgeting with the zipper, “I really should go back in.” She smiled, “Wish I could tell you about the noise. But I didn’t hear a thing.”

He tried to speak, tried to tell her it was okay if she cried. He thought she’d look really beautiful when she cried. But she interrupted, “You know, it must’ve been the wind.”

She closed the door again.

Stiles glanced out the window at the end of the hall, following his feet to look out of it. The trees stood still in the empty night. He watched a silver car tear out of the parking lot. The leaves remained still.

There wasn’t any wind.

He walked back down to his room, still feeling guilty about not doing anything.

He laid back down on his floor. He hit shuffle on his phone. The lyrics of “Lean on Me” filled the room. He sang along under his breath, gradually getting more and more into it. He chuckled softly at how much he resonated with the lyrics.

He glanced over at the boombox on the counter.

He ran over to his CD shelf, looking for Bill Withers. He pulled the CD out of the box and put it in the boombox, skipping to the third track. He hit the repeat song button and cranked the volume up.

Standing on his couch, with the boombox raised precariously over his head, he sang along to the blasting music.

He hoped she’d hear the words and know they came from him. And know he meant them with everything in him. He hoped she’d know she’d be okay.

The song started over again and he kept singing along.

A knock sounded at his door.

“Uh oh,” he said, quickly setting the boombox down on the floor and turning down the volume. He opened the door without checking to see who it was, already sure that it was his neighbor about to threaten a complaint to the landlord about the volume of his music.

Instead, he was face to face with the girl from upstairs. Her shoulders were still tight, but her eyes were clearer now.

“I heard the song. The words,” She said slowly.

Stiles smiled, “Promise I’m not playing tricks on you. You’re always welcome to come in.”

He opened the door wider and nodded at his room, which was mostly clean.

She smiled just a little wider.

“You could stay here for an hour or two if you ever need a friend.”

Tears sprang to her eyes again, one escaping her right eye.

Stiles smiled, realizing two things. The first was that she believed him. When crying starts from the right eye, it means the tears are happy. The second was that he had been right. She was beautiful when she cried.

She stepped forward. He backed away, letting her come in.

She sat down on the couch. She was still fidgeting with her zipper, but as he smiled again and sat down on the couch beside her, she didn’t leave it zipped quite as high.

The boombox was still playing quietly.

“What’s your name?’ He asked, standing up again, to get the boombox and to move around, his nervous energy overflowing.

“Lydia,” She said, and her voice sounded stronger.

“What’s your favorite song, Lydia?” He asked, walking over to his CD collection. He prayed he’d have whatever song she said.

She smiled, “Right now?”

He nodded.

“Right now it’s “Lean on Me.”

Stiles laughed, “Really? Well, guess I’ll have to turn it up, then.”

He cranked the volume again and started to sing along once more.

She sang along under her breath.

When the song ended, she had tears in her eyes again, tracing lines on her right cheek.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Lydia,” he said.

She nodded her head and swallowed what was probably a mixture of fear and pride.

“We can talk about the noise when I’m ready, but ‘til then…”

He laughed gently, “I’ll say it must’ve been the wind.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” She echoed.

[wordstrings]

Of Maintenance Part 2: Physical Therapy

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​; a sequel to Of Maintenance. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 4,300

Things were changing. Whether they were more spooky or less spooky with the developing knowledge was difficult to say, though. Several everyday phenomena which Sam and Dean had taken to be the result of Castiel’s telekinetic abilities had been debunked as something far more simple. In the week since his medicinal bath, the grace-touch Cas had granted to the Winchester’s eyes had not faded out. His wings were still visible to them. As such, they began to notice all manner of peculiar things.

For starters, Castiel was not nearly as statuesque as they’d always perceived him to be. Even if the rest of his body seemed to be standing perfectly still, his wings gave away that he was, in fact, constantly fidgeting. Often it was only a gentle twitch or sway, but other times it would be the sort of swift flap one might see from a bird debating its position on a branch as the angel settled onto the living area’s couch. The first time that happened had scared the hell out of Dean and he’d fallen onto the floor with a loud curse. Out of courtesy, the brothers would give a wider berth now to accommodate the limbs, though the wings would always shift themselves to or fro as needed regardless as they always had ‘behind the scenes’.

“I am beginning to understand why Humans are uncomfortable with long stares.” Castiel commented as he picked a lore book from a high shelf in a pincer motion with the alula of either wing.

Dean started in place. He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring again. He grunted quietly and went back to fake-reading for a case. Well, ‘case’ in the sense that it wasn’t really their sort of thing, but they were bored out of their minds. Idle hands being tools of the devil, he could definitely understand how so many bad decisions came in moments where a person was left with nothing to drown out melancholy thoughts. Might as well research old serial killers and have debates on whether or not they were supernaturally inclined.

“I always thought you did that with your brain, I dunno. Some floaty angel shit.” Dean shrugged, dropping both the pretense and his book “Still getting used to it.”

“I use my brain to move my wings.” Castiel rolled his eyes, thumbing through his volume. “I could lift something by altering the molecular structure of the air around it, but it seems like wasted effort.”

With Cas’ attention divided by reading, the elder Winchester felt as if he could chance another appraising look at the wings. This time, he was moreso checking on their healing progress. Any time he’d gotten close enough to attempt to give them a once-over, they’d folded up protectively against the angel’s back. The skin certainly seemed healthier. Feathers were coming in nicely. A marked rise in Castiel’s mood might have been linked to their recovery.

“Dean.” Cas admonished.

“What?”

Cas turned to face him straight on, irritated as fully as a woman who didn’t want someone ogling her legs. He closed the distance and waited until Dean met his eyes. It took more than a few seconds.

“Alright, I get it, I get it. I wouldn’t have to be so damn sneaky about it if you’d let us actually check them. We said we wanted to help, and you promised you’d let us.” Dean fussed. “It’s been a week, and all you’re doing is just… misting them like house plants with that oil stuff. I wanted to make sure they’re getting better. Sue me.”

“…Oh,”

“Whaddaya mean oh?”

All this time, Castiel had felt that he was being viewed as somewhat of a side-show. The extra space given, the hidden peeks, and the badgering about keeping up on moisturizing the damaged skin had been giving him mixed signals on whether or not he was being treated as… well, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like it. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

“I misunderstood the reason for your leering.” Cas admitted quietly.

“Leering? Who’s leering?” Dean demanded, slapping the table to get full attention when Cas glanced away. “No, you look at me. If you think for a minute that we’re just gawking for the sake of seeing something weird, then you really need to get your head out of your ass, Cas. We stare because we care.”

That didn’t sound creepy. Ah, shit, he’d rhymed as well.

Castiel gave a begrudged nod. While he didn’t particularly care for being scolded like a child, he would be remiss to ignore the small flutter of importance that had bloomed in his chest from it. Something he’d perceived to be bordering on hateful was actually just the Winchesters’ way of looking after him without being obvious about it.

Feeling that his point had been made, Dean pushed up from the table and pointed an accusing finger as he backed out of the library.

“Alright. I’m going to pick Sammy up and grab some grub. When I get back, you’re getting a full check-up. No buts.”

If Castiel had been properly miffed, it would have been as easy as leaving before Dean returned to avoid further possibility of ridicule. But he stayed. Heaven help him, he stayed.

–

When the door to the bunker swung open by way of an aggressive hip, Castiel looked up briefly from his book and gave both Winchesters an expression of acknowledgement. Sam had been out all day, but where he had no idea. Both Sam and Dean had their arms full of takeout and grocery bags, though it seemed unlikely that the younger brother had been shopping for the last seven hours.

Behind Cas, there was some sort of structured movement going on. It reminded Sam of some upper body calisthenics demonstrated in a documentary about Victorian housewives he’d watched in college; the kind of exercise that only worked a set group of muscles, as was appropriate for ladies at the time. Not that he’d say that out loud. It looked a bit silly, though.

“The hell are you doing?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Stretching.” Cas didn’t look up a second time.

“Are you sore?” Sam prompted.

“No more than usual.” the angel replied with a sigh.

“How usual is usual?” Sam pressed on.

Castiel closed his book and deposited it on a table.

“Your legs are long.” Cas stated, waiting for Sam to agree to this observation before continuing. “If you are in a car for a long period of time, they become cramped, correct? Imagine if you were over one thousand feet tall, and compressed to a vessel that does not even clear six feet. Sometimes it helps to stretch, if only a little.”

It was easy to forget how big Castiel was supposed to be in a natural state when he was forever looking up at them. They understood how dangerous it would be for the angel to leave the vessel empty for any amount of time, so taking a break somewhere to fully unleash himself was unlikely to work out well.

“Okay, well-“ Sam yanked Dean’s shirt to prevent him waltzing away from putting groceries up. “We’ve been thinking about that a little, actually. Dean’s been calling physical therapy clinics in the area to get advice on what we can do to make things better for you.”

“Sneaking.” Dean interjected.

“-And I went to the vet clinic to volunteer with a bird rehabilitation group today. So I think we’ll have a better idea on how to handle helping you along.” Sam continued. “Got a few things we can try, but we’ll see how it goes and kind of play it by ear.”

At a loss for words, Castiel blinked and looked from one brother to the other. His don’t bother worrying about me, I am not worth it train of thought was solidly arguing with his I am deeply humbled and thankful to be cared about train of thought.

“The therapists all told us to check range of motion and try to balance resistance exercises and stretches with massages to release tension in the muscles.” Dean explained, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “Who’s a lucky duck?”

Cas pulled a grumpled expression as Dean turned back to stack cans of sloppy joe sauce in the cabinet.

“I am not a duck.” he huffed.

“Ya might as well be. That’s all Sammy’s been practicing on all day.” Dean laughed. “You’ll be the first on his client list not to peck at him. Or maybe you will, I dunno. You were pretty twitchy last time we had hands on you, so~”

Eyes to the ceiling, Castiel asked his Father for whatever strength he needed not to stuff Dean into a garbage can. He was thankful that the teasing was not further pursued while the remaining groceries were sorted. The time was spent going over what each brother had learned in their separate endeavors. He learned that Sam had been followed by an entire flock of some forty-odd ducks when it was time for him to leave, and that Dean had been given love letters by three old women and one old man after a day of working in senior physical therapy earlier in the week. As a point of pride, he’d kept all of them like trophies.

“Here, these are for you.” Sam tugged a pack of jersey knit pajama pants out of the last bag and passed them over to Cas. “So you don’t have to borrow any. Go ahead and change. There’s a shirt, too, but we need it off for now so we can see what we’re doing.”

Castiel ran his hand over the plastic with a quiet thank you. It crinkled softly in his fingers. Technically speaking, he didn’t own a single article of clothing besides what was already on his person. Any that he’d worn during his period as a human had been discarded as a means to bury the memory of his many struggles. Those clothes had all been second-hand anyway, though. These were new, expressly for him. A touching gesture to say the least.

This time, he didn’t feel nearly as self-conscious changing out of his normal attire. For a long moment, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his trousers to ensure that they were perfectly fit before tying a messy knot. Something which looked only sort of like a bow, but it was good enough. Learning to tie his shoes during his humanity stint had been quite a journey, but a small child who’d wandered off from her mother in the mall had been kind enough to show him as best she could manage. The things you needed to know as an ‘adult’ were hardly ever clear until you were in the moment, he’d come to find.

When Cas returned, he saw that a table in the library had been fixed up with lots of folded blankets to create a padded surface. Not strictly necessary, but it was nice to see all the same. A groaning sigh dramatic enough to rival a Kansas twister whooshed from his lungs in pure disapproval as Dean sauntered in wearing a lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Too much?”

“YEAH.” came the unison reply.

“Fine. Buncha killjoys.” Dean muttered, shrugging out of the coat and tossing it in a rumpled pile on a chair. “Up on the table, big guy. Stretch out the wings as far as they’ll go side to side. Don’t let them droop if you can help it. We need to see if any of your muscles have atrophied.”

One foot pressed to a chair, Castiel pushed up on the table and settled into a comfortable sitting position, legs dangled somewhat stiffly over the side. A few small pops worked in the joints as he slowly reached his wings out in a wide t-shape. He wasn’t all together sure if that was a problem in the vessel’s shoulders or in his actual wings. Later he would run a checklist of all of the organic components which didn’t strictly belong to him. Well. They did now, he supposed.

“Try making circles, then go up and down.” Sam frowned at the noise, flipping through a little field guide he’d been given that day. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, complying with the request easily. “It’s a relief. Everything has felt a little-“

“Flabby?” Dean supplied brightly. “Since you haven’t been able to go out for a sky spin in forever?”

If looks could kill.

“…tight. I have been exercising them, but the stiffness remains.” Cas grumbled. “My wing muscles are not flabby.”

“Touched a nerve on that one.” Dean huffed under his breath, eyebrows jumped up.

Quick to diffuse, Sam cleared his throat.

“You need recovery days to let muscles rest. Even if you’ve never needed them before, you’ve also never really been in a vessel for this long, right? Celestial energy verses physically shrunk down has got to have differences in how your wings react to things, especially after trauma. You said it feels cramped and tight, so let’s work from there. I’ll apply pressure. Try to keep from lowering your wings.” Sam advised, taking up a position behind the brooding angel.

Slowly he pushed down, little by little adding more force. The wings didn’t move an inch. They were warm and solid. A far cry less ashy-looking than the last time he’d touched them as well. Resistance didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no tremble of fatigue, but the muscles were heavily bunched.

“Not flabby.” Sam confirmed, noting with amusement how Cas’ feathers puffed a little in pride.

“See?” Cas sniffed in a superior tone.

“Got it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It was easy.” Cas added.

“I got it.” Dean repeated.

“Like they were baby hands.”

“Got it, Cas. Not flabby.”

Sam looked down at his giant paws and mouthed baby hands before reaching into a small box on the table. He began carefully laying out a collection of wires and pads. When he caught Castiel looking curiously over his shoulder, he held up the box to show a picture. The edges of the cardboard were slightly dog-eared from age, but the contents had been kept in pristine condition.

“TENS unit,” Sam explained. “I do long distance runs, and sometimes when my muscles get overworked, this helps kill off the pain and kind of forces them to relax after you use it. It stimulates your nerves with electricity pulses.”

When he was met with a wary expression, Sam rolled up his own sleeve and stuck two of the leads to his forearm. He fiddled with the settings and clicked the machine to life. Small twitches in his muscles were apparent.

“See? It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. It’s weird, but DeanDeanDeanDON’T- AH!”

Unable to help himself, Dean plucked up the unit and cranked the dial WAY up, chuckling deeply as Sam’s arm convulsed into weird positons.

“This thing is WILD, Cas. We used to play a drinking game with these where you try to balance a ping pong ball on a spoon while it’s buzzing you, and if you dropped it, you had to take a shot.” Dean smirked, shutting the machine off, to Sam’s relief. “So just so you’re prepared, if it jerks you around a little, it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt, there are just places it isn’t safe to go, like around your heart. If Sammy can take it, you can take it. If it gets too sore, let us know and we’ll shut it down. Sound good?”

Cas nodded, actually a little relieved at the show of absurdity. It made him feel less like a specimen. There were no further protests as Sam began attaching leads to the meatiest sections of his wings and one on each shoulder blade at the joint. Anywhere where the knots were especially tight. The stickiness of the pads felt strange, but not particularly uncomfortable.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” the angel replied, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.

“I figure we’ll let this run for a little while, then we’ll massage out the rest of those tense spots manually. You can go for a soak after. It’ll be a good day.” Dean promised.

“I’ll go get some of the leftover oil.” Sam offered. “Unless you already got some lotion or something for today?”

Dean thought to the small bottle of Jergens in his room… in a box… with his questionable reading material. The only lotion he owned.

“Nope,” the older Winchester lied.

“Right. Uh. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Dean wanted was to endure something overly floral for this very manly process, so he turned to follow at his brother’s heels to micromanage the scent choices.

“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted his departure. “I’m sorry.”

“…For what?” Dean squinted.

“Earlier today. I thought… I thought you were being condescending. I’m sorry for being upset.”

Dean’s face went a little slack with guilt. Cas shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling upset. He spent so much of his time self-loathing already. All members of Team Free Will had a certain lack of communication skills when it came to sensitive topics, and Dean wasn’t exactly the most emotionally mature person when his pride was stinging.

“Yeah, well. Forget it, okay? I wasn’t exactly being up front about stuff.” Dean shrugged, looking for immediate escape from a dissection of character. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Now, the wisest course of action would have been for Castiel to wait patiently for the brothers to return, but frankly, he wanted to know what he was in for so that he would be able to adjust his reactions accordingly. If he could anticipate the jolts, then perhaps he could work against them to avoid looking quite as ridiculous as Sam had. Blue eyes kept sliding from the TENS unit to the door and back again. The oils were kept in the recovery room with all of the tubs, so he’d have at least two or three minutes to himself. Sam and Dean were strollers if there wasn’t a need for hurry. Ever so slowly, he reached out and closed a hand over the little machine.

–

“What’s wrong with lavender?” Sam groaned.

“It stinks, Sam. Use the sandalwood.”

“THAT stinks!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

After much grumbling, they finally decided on eucalyptus, if only because Cas had mentioned that he’d liked the scent previously. This was about him after all. Before starting back to the library, they begrudgingly claimed a truce to avoid making the angel any more uncomfortable with sibling bickering. That was when both brothers were startled by flickering lights.

“Cas.” Dean stated, breaking into a run.

The door banged open.

Down on the floor, curled into a twitching ball against the table, was Castiel… doing something they’d only witnessed once before. The poor fellow was laughing, deep and rich and panicked. There was something else mixed with the sound; something almost musical and very, very strange. It made the humans go slightly cross-eyed for a second. They rubbed their faces hard to correct this. At least their ears weren’t screaming in pain.

“OFF!” Cas choked out.

Electricity was buzzing straight through his muscles down into his very grace. It wasn’t only that the unit gave off a tingling pulse over various sensitive points in his wings and shoulders. That would have been bad enough, especially the patches jolting into his wing pits. No, this was something altogether unbearable. Castiel hadn’t even been aware that his very essence of being was capable of falling subject to these sorts of sensations, but save him it tickled and tickled and tickled relentlessly. The entire world was blurred at the edges and all he knew was a crazed swirling of mirth and chaos exploding through his core. It was everywhere, inside and out.

“Hold on, hold on…” Dean tried, though it was doubtful that Cas could even hear him through the forced giggling and weird melodic notes.

Trying to get close enough to Castiel to snatch the machine up was like running a gauntlet. His wings were suffering from a combination of tickle shimmies and electric pulse muscle spasms. Any time Sam or Dean ducked in to make a grab, they were pummeled by a wall of feathers. Dean could taste blood after a clock to his nose, but adrenaline and amusement kept him from noticing more than a vague sting.

“Cas… Cas we can’t… you’ve gotta…” Dean weaved and batted.

“Work with us, Cas!” Sam grunted, hanging onto one wing for dear life as it thrashed him up and down as if he weighed nothing.

“T-t-t!!!” Cas tried to form words through his laughter, arms clutched tight around his middle.

Desperation incarnate, he reached out lightning quick with the miniscule amount of grace able to bend to his will and yanked the boys in close with it. This had the unfortunate side effect of spreading the sensation as the essence touched down on them, leaving both Winchesters doubled up in helpless wheezing cackles against their angelic friend. What the hell was this non-physical tickly feeling???

“CAS D-!!! CAN’T HE-HELP IF?!” Dean snorted.

They were screwed. Caught in the loop of laughter. What a way to go out.

Until…

It seemed that the reapers would not be coming for them on that particular day. Whether from divine intervention or dumb luck, the device shut off. A collective gasp for air sounded through the room.

“Shit… that tickled.” Dean heaved. “What happened?”

“It would seem that my grace is… vulnerable to electric stimulation.” Castiel rolled onto his back and put a hand over his face in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Nobody moved. There was a strange afterglow of sheer contentment from the shared-grace-giggling experience, though nobody was quick to admit how good they felt at the moment.

“Timer.” Sam stated finally. “I have a default timer of five minutes on it. That’s why it shut off.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to turn the settings WAY down on that thing because I don’t think I can handle that again right now if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace.” Dean rolled up into a sit and started aligning the intensity controls.

Cas made an instinctive reach for the device, which Dean deftly avoided.

“Not our fault you turned it on when it was set high. We’re still doing this, but we’re doing it right. Lower pulse ought to be fine. Back up on the table.”

Wide eyed and nervous, Castiel resumed his original position. He was still just a little too drunk on the endorphin spike to pull an annoyed expression, but still swiftly gripped a wrist on each brother.

“Don’t leave this time.” he insisted.

Sam and Dean shared a look, then jumped up to sit on either side of him. When he gave a small nod to signal his mental steel-up, the TENS unit once again buzzed to life, this time at a far more tolerable frequency. Only just, but tolerable all the same. His grace gave out pulsing shivers, almost as if nails were running over sensitized skin.

Hands balled in the padding blankets and legs lightly squirming for purchase over the side of the table, Castiel tried his best to bear through the time. He dug his chin down into his collar bone as breathy giggles clawed their way to the surface. Nope. A grown man-angel shouldn’t be allowed to be this adorable.

“This is supposed to be relaxing. Are you relaxed?” Dean grinned, giving a little poke to one of the wiggling wings.

“I AM NO-HOT!”

Sam held back a snort to avoid embarrassing the angel, but threw Dean a can you believe this expression when Cas tipped to his side and pressed muffled laughter into his jacket sleeve. Both brothers held a supportive hand to the angel’s back.

“Cas, we’d better not catch you alone like this again in your free time. If we need you for a case and you’re just holed up under the table having a tickle party for one-”

“Be quiet, De-hean!” Cas interrupted him with a giggly shove from the closest wing. “I’ll make you… I’ll make you feel…”

It was hardly an intimidating threat at the moment. The teasing verbal jabs seemed to up the intensity of whatever was happening with the celestial energy, and Castiel’s eyes were shining bright with tears by the time the machine beeped to signal the end of its cycle.

“Finished.” Sam announced in a sympathetic tone.

“Already?” Cas asked, wiping away the evidence of his mirth crying.

“Already?” Dean repeated, amused.

“It seemed to go by much faster. Perhaps, time being relative and also being that the potency of the treatment was at a marked decrease, my tolerance was raised for the challenge. It was pleasant. The effect on my grace was thoroughly enjoyable.” Castiel acknowledged, squinting at the Winchesters’ surprised expressions. “Did I not elucidate this well enough?”

Carefully, he stretched out his wings, noting with satisfaction that they felt remarkably limber as compared to the prickly tightness from the beginning of the day. He gave a soft yelp when fingers began picking at the TENS pads to unstick them from his skin. A bit over-sensitive from prolonged tingles, it was a struggle to wrench his wings up to allow the leads to be peeled away from the joints at his shoulder blades. They snapped down repeatedly and he shook his head with a scrunched nose of valiant failed effort. It wasn’t until Dean reached out a tickly grab to Cas’ knee to redirect sensation that he buckled in and became uncoordinated enough for Sam to strip everything free.

When everything had been boxed back up, it was difficult to ignore that Castiel’s expression remained bright and pleased. He looked happy. With any luck, maybe in the future that would not feel like such a foreign thing to see.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I absolutely LOVED getting to toss around ideas with you, some of which ended up straight here! This is so precious, and the line “...if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace” is a particular treasure. Thank you so much for blessing us with this continuation! <3

[grell-writes-stuff]

Interlude Playlist + Lyrics

My Interlude Playlist (plus lyrics that might make @fenfaerie cry)

Feel free to suggest others that capture the mood/vibe/feeling/whathaveyou

Listen On Spotify

All I Want – A Day To Remember

I'm always screaming my lungs out 'til my head starts spinning Playing my songs is the way I cope with life Won't keep my voice down Know the words I speak are the thoughts I think out loud

All Signs Point to Lauderdale – A Day To Remember

Remember when I tried I never strayed to far from you Forever by your side No matter what I was going through

This Could Be Anywhere in the World – Alexisonfire

Every breath I take I feel my lungs seal This breeze feels more like shards of glass I'm more scars than skin

Rough Hands – Alexisonfire

Was I left behind? Someone tell me, tell me I survived And don't look so surprised that I'm home, but just for tonight With rough hands and sore eyes So don't speak, I am tired Let's just live through this lie

Heroes – All Time Low

You're not a hero, you're a liar You're not a savior, you're a vampire Sucking the life out of all the friends you've ever known

Somewhere in Neverland – All Time Low

Tell me how you feel over and done with Like your life is a map with no compass to guide

The Irony of Choking on a Lifesaver – All Time Low

You're the snake hidden in my daffodils when I'm picking flowers That's just my luck these days Why can't you just be happy for me? You're the brake lights failing as my car swerves off the freeway It kind of feels like sabotage Why can't you just be happy for Why can't you just be happy for me?

Canals – All Time Low

Smile, tell me I'm alright With a goodbye You are so misleading A kiss or a gun fight High-noon or midnight Darling, I don't want to know If I'm just a short sight on a cold night The canals are freezing So tell me I'm alright with a goodbye

Oh, Calamity! – All Time Low

I'll remember nights alone And waking up to dial tones Always found my greatest moments In the sound of your hello's Now I struggle to recall The reasons you would come to leave

Nightmares – All Time Low

Now there's a ghost in the back of this room And I don't like it I fall asleep with my covers pulled up And try to fight it I gotta say, it's hard to be brave When you're alone in the dark I told myself that I wouldn't be scared But I'm still having nightmares

Therapy – All Time Low

My ship went down In a sea of sound. When I woke up alone I had everything: A handful of moments I wished I could change And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade.

For What It’s Worth – Amber Pacific

Though I wish that you were breathing I still just can't believe You're gone

Postcards – Amber Pacific

When I'm without you I'm not the man that I know I can be Because you're not here with me

Red Flag – Billy Talent

The kids of tomorrow don't need today When they live in the sins of yesterday

Wishful Sinking – blessthefall

So just breathe slow, caught in the undertow And I'm fighting the current Holding my ground if you can't let go The pressure will hold you down

Sleepless in Phoenix – blessthefall

'Cause I carry ghosts of the things you've said But you won't come home even if you're dead

Hey Baby, Here’s That Song You Wanted – blessthefall

I keep putting together, what we've lost But pieces keep falling one by one Cause this life has us holding on For tomorrow then it's gone

It’s My Life – Bon Jovi

It's my life And it's now or never I ain't gonna live forever I just want to live while I'm alive

Blood On Blood – Bon Jovi

Through the years and miles between us It's been a long and lonely ride But if I got a call in the dead of the night I'd be right by your side

Livin’ On A Prayer – Bon Jovi

We've gotta hold on to what we've got It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not We've got each other and that's a lot

Practice Makes Perfect – Cute Is What We Aim For

I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son And I have done a few things I regret I've become what a mother wouldn't want in a son And I have done what a mother wouldn't want What a mother wouldn't want in a son

Newport Living – Cute Is What We Aim For

Now just look at that social clique Do you really wanna be a part of it? Let's not let us forget Where she gets the habit She gets the pills from her skills She gets the skills from the pills And just look at that clique Do you really wanna be the star of it?

There’s a Class for This – Cute Is What We Aim For

Drama doesn't follow me it rides on my back

The Curse of Curves – Cute Is What We Aim For

I want someone provocative and talkative But it's so hard when you're shallow as a shower

Hysteria – Def Leppard

I gotta know tonight If you're alone tonight Can't stop this feeling Can't stop this fire

Tell Me I’m A Wreck – Every Avenue

When you tell me I'm a wreck You say that I'm a mess How could you expect anything less?

Irresistible – Fall Out Boy

You're second hand smoke, second hand smoke I breathe you in, but, honey, I don't know what you're doing to me Mon chéri, but the truth catches up with us eventually Try to say live, live and let live But I'm no good, good at lip service Except when they're yours, mi amor I'm coming for you and I'm making war

Beat It – Fall Out Boy, John Mayer (Michael Jackson Cover)

You got to show them that you're really not scared You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare They'll kick you, then they'll beat you, Then they'll tell you it's fair

I Don’t Care – Fall Out Boy

I don't care what you think as long as it's about me The best of us can find happiness in misery

w.a.m.s. – Fall Out Boy

I'm gonna leave you I'm gonna teach you How we're all alone

West Coast Smoker – Fall Out Boy

Oh hell yes I'm a nervous wreck

Hum Hallelujah – Fall Out Boy

And one day we'll get nostalgic for disaster we're a bull, your ears are just a china shop I love you in the same way, there's a chapel in a hospital One foot in your bedroom and one foot out the door Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills. I could write it better than you ever felt it.

Golden – Fall Out Boy

Tongues on the sockets of electric dreams Where the sewage of youth drowned the spark of my teens And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me

Bang The Doldrums – Fall Out Boy

I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm When you passed out I couldn't bring myself to call Except to call it quits

Sunshine Riptide – Fall Out Boy

The sign says “don't tap the glass” But I read it in reverse, “ssalg eht pat t'nod syas ngis ehT”

The Last Of The Real Ones – Fall Out Boy

I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Red Sam – Flyleaf

You are the truth (you are the truth) Outscreaming these lies You are the truth (you are the truth) Saving my life

The Anthem – Good Charlotte

I'm gonna get by and just do my time Out of step, while they all get in line I'm just a minor threat, so pay no mind

Wondering – Good Charlotte

If you want me to wait, I will wait for you If you tell me to stay, I would stay right through If you don't wanna say, Anything at all I'm happy wondering

Girls & Boys – Good Charlotte

She'll get what she wants if she's willing to please This type of girl always comes with a fee Hey now, there's nothing for free

Hold On – Good Charlotte

But we all bleed the same way as you do And we all have the same things to go through

The Day That I Die – Good Charlotte

Can you feel the cold tonight? It sets in, but it's alright Darkness falls, I'm letting go All alone, but I feel fine

The Young & the Hopeless – Good Charlotte

And if I make it through the day Will tomorrow be the same? Am I just running in place? And if I stumble and I fall Should I get up and carry on? Will it all just be the same?

Movin’ On – Good Charlotte

Life, hope, truth, trust, faith, pride, love, lust Pain, hate, lies, guilt, laugh, cry, live, die. Some friends become enemies some friends become your family. Make the best with what you're given. This ain't dying, this is living!

Jesus of Suburbia – Green Day

It says home is where your heart is But what a shame 'Cause everyone's heart Doesn't beat the same It's beating out of time

Holiday / Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day

I beg to dream and differ from the hollow lies This is the dawning of the rest of our lives /  

/ Read between the lines Of what's fucked up and everything's alright Check my vital signs To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

Basket Case – Green Day

Do you have the time to listen to me whine About nothing and everything all at once I am one of those Melodramatic fools Neurotic to the bone No doubt about it

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) – Green Day

So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial For what it's worth it was worth all the while

Still Breathing – Green Day

As I walked out on the ledge Are you scared to death to live? I've been running all my life Just to find a home that's for the restless And the truth that's in the message Making my way, away, away

Silver Bullet – Hawthorne Heights

Being Alone, Just like them, Being Alive, Feeling so... Dead.

Ohio Is for Lovers – Hawthorne Heights

Because you kill me. You know you do, you kill me well. You like it too, and I can tell. You never stop until my final breath is gone.

How You Love Me Now – Hey Monday

Tell me how can you sleep? How can you breathe? Baby tell me how How you love me now

The Distance – Hot Chelle Rae

It's like you're living with a ghost Someone you can't hold And you say it's so unfair

Alright – Hot Chelle Rae

In the dark you come to life The memories of you and I I want to keep you here with me Don't wake me up just let me dream

Blank Space – I Prevail

'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream

My Heart I Surrender – I Prevail

Will our stars ever align? Will two hearts, beat in time? These words you should always remember, To you, my heart I surrender.

Sweetness – Jimmy Eat World

So tell me what do I need (tell me what do I need) When words lose their meaning (When words lose their meaning)

Jamie All Over – Mayday Parade

And please don't tell me that I'm dreaming When all I ever wanted was to dream another sunset with you

Jersey – Mayday Parade

I'll be fine, I swear I'm just gone beyond repair

Oh Well, Oh Well – Mayday Parade

And I'll just smile, and make believe I don't feel a thing. That doesn't work for me.

Kiss Me, Kill Me – Mest

A tragedy that's built on destiny It left you with everything but Blood from the knife that I cut your heart out with Now relax, close your eyes, what comes next is the surprise

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) – My Chemical Romance

Everybody wants to change the world Everybody wants to change the world But no one, no one wants to die

Bulletproof Heart – My Chemical Romance

And though I know how much you hate this Are you gonna be the one to save us From the black and hopeless feeling? Will you mean it when the end comes reeling?

SING – My Chemical Romance

Every time that you lose it sing it for the world Sing it from the heart Sing it till you're nuts Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts Sing it for the deaf Sing it for the blind Sing about everyone that you left behind Sing it for the world

Planetary (GO!) – My Chemical Romance

If my velocity starts to make you sweat Then just don't let go 'Cause the emergency room got no vacancy Tell me who do you trust, Do you trust And we just Get up and go!

Kill All Your Friends – My Chemical Romance

'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends. And we all get together when we bury our friends. It's been ten fucking years since I've been seeing Your face 'round here. And you're walking away, and I will drown in the fear.

Demolition Lovers – My Chemical Romance

I'm trying, I'm trying To let you know just how much you mean to me And after all the things we put each other through

Desert Song – My Chemical Romance

Well tonight, well tonight Will it ever come? Spend the rest of your days rocking out Just for the dead

The Kids from Yesterday – My Chemical Romance

'Cause you only live forever in the lights you make When we were young, we used to say That you only hear the music when your heart begins to break Now we are the kids from yesterday

AMBULANCE – My Chemical Romance

And if you save my life I’ll be the one who drives you home tonight And if I ever let you down I’ll be the one who drives you home tonight

The End. – My Chemical Romance

I'd encourage your smiles I'll expect you won't cry

Dead! – My Chemical Romance

If life ain't just a joke Then why are we laughing?

This Is How I Disappear – My Chemical Romance

Can you hear me cry out to you? Words I thought I'd choke on, figure out

The Sharpest Lives – My Chemical Romance

You're the one that I need I'm the one that you loathe You can watch me corrode like a beast in repose 'Cause I love all the poison

Welcome to the Black Parade – My Chemical Romance

And though you're dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on We'll carry on And though you're broken and defeated Your weary widow marches on

Sleep – My Chemical Romance

And through it all How could you cry for me? Cause I don't feel bad about it. So shut your eyes, Kiss me goodbye, And sleep. Just sleep.

Teenagers – My Chemical Romance

They're gonna rip up your heads, Your aspirations to shreds Another cog in the murder machine

Disenchanted – My Chemical Romance

It was the roar of the crowd That gave me heartache to sing. It was a lie when they smiled And said, "You won't feel a thing."

Famous Last Words – My Chemical Romance

I see you lying next to me With words I thought I'd never speak Awake and unafraid Asleep or dead

Helena – My Chemical Romance

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate The lives of everyone you know And what's the worst you take (worst you take) From every heart you break (heart you break) And like the blade you stain (blade you stain) Well, I've been holding on tonight

To The End – My Chemical Romance

She keeps a picture of the body she lends. Got nasty blisters from the money she spends. She's got a life of her own and it shows by the Benz She drives at 90 by the Barbies and Kens.

I’m Not Okay (I Promise) – My Chemical Romance

But you really need to listen to me Because I'm telling you the truth I mean this, I'm okay! (Trust Me) I'm not okay I'm not okay Well, I'm not okay I'm not o-fucking-kay

Cemetery Drive – My Chemical Romance

When will I miss you, when will I miss you so far

Heaven Help Us – My Chemical Romance

But can't tell if I've been breathing or sleeping Or screaming or waiting for the man to call And maybe all of the above Cause mostly I've been sprawled on these cathedral steps While spitting out the blood and screaming "Someone save us!"

Camisado – Panic! At The Disco

You're a regular decorated emergency

LA Devotee – Panic! At The Disco

You got two black eyes from loving too hard And a black car that matches your blackest soul I wouldn't change ya, oh Wouldn't ever try to make you leave, no

Dying in LA – Panic! At The Disco

Drink of paradise They told you put your blood on ice You're not gonna make it Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do

Let’s Kill Tonight – Panic! At The Disco

May your feet serve you well And the rest be sent to Hell Where they always have belonged Cold hearts brew colder songs

Memories – Panic! At The Disco

Oh Memories Where'd you go? You were all I've ever known How I miss yesterday How I let it fade away?

Trade Mistakes – Panic! At The Disco

So, let me save you Hold this rope and I'll pull you in 'Cause I am an anchor Save her or feel it sinking in

The Calendar – Panic! At The Disco

There is simply nothing worse Than knowing how it ends And I meant everything I said that night I will come back to life But only for you Only for you

Hard Times – Paramore

All that I want Is to wake up fine

Rose-Colored Boy – Paramore

And I want you to stop insisting that I'm not a lost cause 'Cause I've been through a lot Really all I've got is just to stay pissed off If it's alright by you

Told You So – Paramore

For all I know The best is over and the worst is yet to come Is it enough? To keep on hoping when the rest have given up?

Fake Happy – Paramore

Oh please don't ask me how I've been Don't make me play pretend

Pressure – Paramore

Just don't let me fall asleep Feeling empty again Cause I fear I might break and I fear I can't take it Tonight I'll lie awake feeling empty

Emergency – Paramore

I've seen you cry Way too many times When you deserve to be alive

Ignorance – Paramore

Don't wanna hear your sad songs I don't wanna feel your pain When you swear it's all my fault 'Cause you know we're not the same

Ain’t It Fun – Paramore

If it don't hurt now then just wait, just wait a while

Last Hope – Paramore

And the salt in my wounds isn't burning any more than it used to It's not that I don't feel the pain, it's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore And the blood in these veins isn't pumping any less than it ever has And that's the hope I have, the only thing I know that's keeping me alive

Still into You – Paramore

Let 'em wonder how we got this far

That’s What You Get – Paramore

It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score And why do we like to hurt so much?

Misery Business – Paramore

Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change. Once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change.

Let the Flames Begin – Paramore

What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things

crushcrushcrush – Paramore

If you want to play it like a game Well, come on, come on, let's play

Fences – Paramore

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying Just living proof that the camera's lying And oh, oh open wide 'Cause this is your night, so smile 'Cause you'll go out in style

Be My Escape – Relient K

I fought you for so long I should have let you win Oh how we regret those things we do And all I was trying to do Was save my own skin But so were you So were you

High of 75 – Relient K

And its funny how you find You enjoy your life When you're happy to be... Alive

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been – Relient K

And I was positive that unless I got myself together, I would watch me fall apart. And I can't let that happen again 'cause then you'll see my heart In the saddest state it's ever been.

Savior – Rise Against

That's when she said, "I don't hate you, boy. I just want to save you while there's still something left to save." That's when I told her, "I love you, girl, But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have."

Changing – Saosin

One last breath to say goodbye I tell myself another lie Stripped of all I hold so dear The moment's lost and I am sinking down lower I drown myself in the water And I am watching my life pass before my eyes It comes as no surprise

I’d Do Anything – Simple Plan

And I wrote this letter in my head Cuz so many things were left unsaid But now you're gone And I can't think straight

Fat Lip – Sum 41

I don't want to waste my time Become another casualty of society.

Meant to Live – Switchfoot

We were meant to live for so much more Have we lost ourselves? Somewhere we live inside

Twin Size Mattress – The Front Bottoms

This is for the lake that me and my friends swim in, naked and dumb on a drunken night And it should've felt good but I can hear the Jaws theme song on repeat in the back of my mind Make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face There are lessons to be learned, consequences for all the stupid things I say And it is no big surprise you turned out this way The spark in your eyes, The look on your face

Bob (Cousin O.) – The Gits

Awaken to the only chance I've got Hide behind these walls, I look through the cracks I see the same mistakes that I once made All that I can tell you there is a price to pay

Absynthe – The Gits

Do you ever think when you're dealing with the worst The outcome is the best thing for you

Another Shot of Whiskey – The Gits

It's like a sword of hate You brandish it so proud I wonder if you're taught what you feel Or is it the way you got it cold dead in your eye?

Second Skin – The Gits

I need a second skin Something to hold me up Can't do it on my own Sometimes I need just a little more help I've got that chance to give every drop that's left in me I need a second skin Something I cannot break out of

Mr. Brightside – The Killers

I'm coming out of my cage And I've been doing just fine Gotta gotta be down Because I want it all

You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid – The Offspring

There's something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want Well it's all because of me

Neon Gravestones – Twenty One Pilots

Promise me this If I lose to myself You won't mourn a day And you'll move onto someone else

The Hype – Twenty One Pilots

But you don't get thick skin without getting burnt

Holding on to You – Twenty One Pilots

Fight it, Take the pain, ignite it, Tie a noose around your mind Loose enough to breathe fine and tie it To a tree. Tell it, "You belong to me. This ain't a noose, this is a leash. And I have news for you: you must obey me."

Car Radio – Twenty One Pilots

I ponder of something terrifying 'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind I find over the course of our human existence One thing consists of consistence And it's that we're all battling fear

Guns for Hands – Twenty One Pilots

I'm trying, I'm trying to sleep

Skyway Avenue – We The Kings

We'll race right off the cliff They will remember this It all got so mundane With you I'm back again Just take me by the hand We're close to the edge

Sad Song – We The Kings (feat. Elena Coats)

Without you, I feel broke Like I'm half of a whole Without you, I've got no hand to hold Without you, I feel torn Like a sail in a storm Without you, I'm just a sad song

Check Yes, Juliet – We The Kings

Run baby run Don't ever look back They'll tear us apart if you give them the chance

Lights And Sounds – Yellowcard

Smile big for everyone, Even when you know what they’ve done. They gave you the end but not where to start; Not how to build, how to tear it apart.

Ocean Avenue – Yellowcard

If I could find you now things would get better We could leave this town and run forever Let your waves crash down on me and take me away

Telescope - Yellowcard

And something took you from me I can't understand why But wherever you're resting I'm carrying your line

[craycraybluejay]

All of you are cops if you're someone who hates on people or worse moralizes over yourself based on fucking music preference please block me and get a life.

Anyway listen to msi to feel things.

[gwenore]

The Trollslayer. Chapter 2.

Chapter 2: Jim tries to find the true owner of the changeling blade. 

Synopsis: Barbara and Jim has cut Strickler out of  their lives after Jim tells his mother the truth about the Trollhunter and what Strickler has done. As trolls start turning up dead, a figure from both Barbara’s and Strickler’s past arrive in Arcadia.

Walking back from Trollmarket Claire looked over at Jim who had been silent for some time. Though lately they had been at odds… Strickler had been his mentor since Jim had entered high school.

While she hadn’t known Jim long… everyone knew that Strickler was a mentor figure to him. Though Jim hadn’t said anything…

She knew the revelation of his mentor having done… what he did…

“You really think Strickler did this?” her voice was barely above a whisper. Jim looked down at the blade in his hand.

“I don’t know…” he finally admitted.

“Is he even still in Arcadia? I mean… wouldn’t someone have seen him? Also… wouldn’t that be like… insanely dangerous with everyone who wants to you know… off him?” Toby walked after them glancing up.

“I don’t know Tobes… but we have to find out… regardless of who is behind it… Strickler or someone else… then we have to stop them,” he said.

After that there really wasn’t much to say, the m walking in silence until they separated to go to their own.

Walking in the door Jim found his mom sitting by the kitchen counter sipping some tea.

“Hi Sweetie, did everything go alright on patrol?” she perked upon seeing him.

“It was fine… just found a strange blade…” he knew that he was lying to his mom… which was something that he had promised that he would try not to do… but what good would it do for her to be told of the possibility that Strickler may still be in town… and having done something so horrible. He knew that his mother still cared about the changeling… though she did her best to hide it.

“Oh?” she stood up, Jim showing it to her.

“You haven’t… seen this before have you?” he asked. Barbara furrowed her brows at the blade as she took it into her hands.

“I… I don’t know… I mean… perhaps. I think so…” Barbara muttered.

“Did… did Strickler own this?” Jim asked her.

Barbara shook her head.

“No… not Walter…” she said. “Wait… why did you ask about him?” she then asked.

“It is just… it is a changeling weapon. Also… it is very rare… Strickler… well he collect stuff…” Jim attempted to come up with an excuse which would work.

“Hmm… well… I suppose the one I am thinking off might not be this one…” Barbara said as she handed it back.

“You haven’t heard from him… right?” Jim asked, reaching out and resting his hand on her arm.

“No… I haven’t,” Barbara shook her head. “And I don’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I don’t want to see him either again,” Jim attempted to comfort her.

“But… with him not being here… with the whole… you know, changeling thing?” Barbara asked, knowing that despite everything it was Strickler who had guided him when her son’s changeling nature made itself known.

Jim had worried about that he hadn’t really learned to change between his troll form and human form.

“I… well… I am good… so far I haven’t had any… you know accidents. I think it has stabilized. Also… trying to relax helps. Not give into the trollish instincts and… I suspect the aroma therapy kit you got me hasn’t hurt,” he laughed. Barbara laughed too.

“Well… you should go to bed… there is school tomorrow. Even though you are the trollhunter you really shouldn’t fall asleep in class,” she told him.

“I will do my best,” Jim said as he skipped up the stairs.

Barbara remained looking after him, letting out a sigh.

She couldn’t shake her thoughts about having seen that blade before. Having a late shift she decided to walk down into the basement.

Searching through several boxes she then found it…

The photo album which she had sworn to never look at again with the title of ‘Our first home’.

Leafing through it she then found it. In a picture of her and James in their living room in the house they had before he vanished. Hanging over the mantle was…

… the blade…

  “You really think Nomura would speak to us… you know… after…” Toby glanced up at Jim.

“NotEnrique said that no one knows more about changeling history than her. Besides… with her being an ally of Bular… we need to make certain that she doesn’t have… nefarious plans…” Jim answered.

“Yeah… better make certain evil troll lady isn’t up to evil troll stuff,” Toby nodded his head as they walked into the museum.

Looking around for a while they saw the Asian woman rearranging a shelf.

“Nomura,” Jim said, trying his best to make his voice certain and commanding. The woman stopped before slowly turning around.

“Trollhunter…” she practically hissed, reaching for something hidden in her belt as her eyes glowed towards them.

Jim however held up his hand.

“Look, we are not here to cause trouble. We just… need your assistance,” he said. The changeling let out a mocking laugh.

“Why would I EVER assist you?” she crossed her arms.

“Well… you did work for Bular and tried to bring forth the end of the world and yet Jim has not decided to separate your head from your body… also letting you stay in Arcadia and work at the museum. I’d say… best stay on his good side,” Toby spoke up from behind his friend’s back. He was still a bit nervous about the female changeling after the last time they faced off. In truth… he was absolutely terrified of her.

Nomura cocked her head at this, her lips twitching up into a snarl.

“And you will leave me alone after?” her green eyes boring into Jim.

“Unless you are doing anything to hurt humans or trolls… I will leave you alone. I have no desire to  do anything to changelings simply wanting to live their life,” Jim said with a sigh. After all… though with the exception of his mom, Strickler, Toby and Claire no one knew he was a changeling… he was one. At least… somewhat.

Nomura fell silent, judging the truth in his words.

“What do you wish of me trollhunter?” she practically spat out the words.

“NotEnrique told me no one knows more about the history of changelings than you,” Jim began, Nomura letting out a chuckle.

“Well… he is not wrong,” she stepped a bit closer as Jim removed his backpack and pulled out the blade.

“Do you know who this belongs to?” he asked. Nomura’s eyes instantly widened.

“That blade… it is the blade of the trollslayers,” she said as she reached out her hand towards it, however Jim pulled it away before she could grasp it.

“The trollslayers?” he asked, raising a brow, having not heard about anything like that before.

“More a legend among changelings… thought to be nothing more for a long time… a group of changelings standing up for the rest, slaughtering the trolls which thought of us as nothing more than slaves… but… they were unsuccessful…” her voice faded out.

Jim swallowed.

“Was… Strickler a trollslayer?” he then asked.

Nomura chuckled.

“He denies that,” she said. “But… several believe so.”

“Do you believe that?”

Nomura tapped her chin.

“Having known him longer than most… I would say no… but there is one carving of the trollslayers… and well… I have not met a troll of the same kin as him before… so… his kin is rather rare… and one of those depicted… well certainly looks like him,” she shrugged.

“You do not happen to have a picture of this carving do you?” Jim was curious, cocking his head. A grin came upon the changeling’s lips.

“Oh no… I have something far better… I have the carving itself.”

  “Trollslayers? Why haven’t we heard anything about them before?” Toby whispered to Jim as they followed the changeling down into the basement of the museum.

“I do not think the trolls know much about changelings… you know… other than the rumors,” Jim sighed. It was a good reason why he had decided to keep his heritage secret from even Blinky and Aaarrrgghh.

While he did not want to believe anything that Strickler had told him… he felt he spoke the truth about them not accepting him for being a changeling.

Blinky had even vehemently objected to them even asking Nomura for information, convinced that she would deceive them.

How could he be the trollhunter if they found out he was the son of a changeling.

Nomura let out a slight chuckle at his words.

“Hmm… you are not wrong, trollhunter.”

Jim did not answer her.

Down in the basement the changeling lead them towards ha hidden backroom which she unlocked with a key not unlike the one Jim had seen Strickler use in his office.

Inside was all kinds of artifacts, both Jim and Toby standing there in awe.

“Woah! This stuff must be thousands of years old!” Toby exclaimed.

“It is most of it… so do not touch anything!” she sneered towards them, both boys putting their hands up, to show that they would not dare do any such things.

Nomura then walked towards a large piece hidden by a sheet. Pulling it away she revealed a large stone slab, with five figures on it.

“Three was killed by Gunmar or his trolls… the two other’s identity or fate is unknown…” she mentioned to the figure in the middle and the one on his left.

The figure to the left certainly had traits which mirrored Strickler’s, the way the horns look and those wings he most of the time kept hidden.

But… it was the figure in the middle who caught their attention, the one carrying a blade similar to the one they found and…

“Dude… he looks just like…”

Jim nudged his friend to be quiet, but he could not deny it. The figure in the middle, the leader of the trollslayers… looked just like him.

  As sun was setting over the town of Arcadia a tall figure made his way from the trees towards a small house, carrying a large duffle bag. Glancing over his shoulder he made sure no one had followed before he knocked on the door.

“I know you are there, Walter…” he scratched his beard slightly.

Slowly the door was opened, the changeling backing away into his house in pure disbelief.

“James…” the name fell out of his mouth.

“Long time, no see old friend.”

[brieflygorgeouss]

as if it’s your last

Neil is five years older than he ever thought he’d be.

Nothing prompts this, really. It’s just realization. He’s in bed, heavy-limbed and tired but still aware of Andrew’s frame inches away from him, weight dipping the mattress, and he’s watching the shadows shift in the square of the window and the thought just comes. It sinks in fast and then stays beneath the surface like a stone thrown into water, a weird feeling that he’s not sure how he should approach. It curls and twists in his mind like smoke.

Neil doesn’t think about his mother, or father, or anyone, really. Everything he thinks is that five years is a long time. Everything he thinks is that he never thought he’d get so much of it.

And yet. There he is.

Neil shifts on the bed, then shifts his gaze from the window, shifts his thoughts, from this to nothing, then back, because here’s one of the things he’s learned during those five years of extended stay: there is no need to count the escape routes from buildings anymore. He falls asleep with his back to the door every night now, lets other people get close, lets himself get lulled into the sense of security that sometimes tastes bitter and like a lie, but sometimes doesn’t.

That’s not something Neil thinks he’ll ever really get used to.

———

There are two minutes of the game left on the clock, and they’re winning. The crowd is a bustling thing around them, moving in tandem like waves of the sea, and Neil breathes through his exhaustion and looks at the fluorescent lights high up by the ceiling and his blood screams at him, run, so he does, counts his steps, throws the ball. The goal lights up red.

Neil feels completely, utterly alive.

———

Here is the thing — his name is Neil Abram Josten, he is five years older than he’d ever thought he would be, and he is scared. Not of knives or the sound of gunfire, not anymore, and not of the truth, but of this — back when his name was Alex, he did not like tea, and Neil Josten prefers coffee as well. Chris’ favorite fruit was strawberries and Neil thinks about it whenever he sees Andrew get into another pint of strawberry ice cream. Nathaniel could load a gun as quickly as he could throw a knife and Neil still remembers the motions in his own muscles.

His mother used to take him to shitty diners near highways where no one would pay attention to the two of them, get them rooms in shitty motels, and she used to grip his hand so hard he was sure she wanted it to hurt, and she used to say, never let them know who you are. Always be someone else, anyone else. The moment they know you, you’re dead.

If you mix enough colors together, you will get nothing at all and everything at once. That’s Neil.

———

Neil never asks Andrew what it is that keeps him close, here, by Neil’s side five years down the road. He doesn’t think he would get an answer to the question — or not an easy one anyway. It is both equally ridiculous as it is extraordinary that Andrew Minyard decided to settle down with the mess of a person that is Neil Josten.

Neil likes to think that he knows what Andrew’s reason is.

Because Andrew makes Neil coffee on early mornings and texts him after the games, and tells him to breathe in the hazy moments after nightmares and kisses him outside their apartment building like he wants to prove something and pins his hips to the bed with heavy hands and with purpose, and Neil likes to think that Andrew’s reason is the same as his own.

They don’t need confessions.

———

Here’s another thing Neil’s learned during those five years — to try and wear his scars like trophies. He looks in the mirror and thinks about knives and cold days and unbearable heat, and then he thinks about Andrew tracing the scars with careful fingers and unwavering attention, and he does not shiver like he used to. Those are his reminders of pain, tokens of the battles he fought and lost, of the battles he fought and won in the end. People call him reckless, the press calls him the fastest player on the court, and a danger, an invincible boy, let’s see when he realizes he’s wrong.

Neil doesn’t say he knew that from the start.

———

Neil wakes up at 5:30 every morning, slips out of bed, goes for a run. Even if he is every color at once mixed together, or nothing at all — patchwork body, Andrew says occasionally — this is the one thing that has always been there. Running. Getting away. Neil clings onto it.

Andrew is usually still asleep, but today, when Neil walks out of the bathroom ready to head out the door into the cold morning outside, he finds Andrew already looking, blond hair messy and eyes just on the side of unfocused.

Neil leans over the bed, leans down, presses a kiss to the corner of Andrew’s mouth before muttering, ”Go back to sleep.”

Andrew blinks at him, then lifts one hand and curls his palm around the side of Neil’s neck, fingers pressing against his pressure point, briefly, and then the touch is gone and so is Andrew’s hazy attention when he closes his eyes. A good morning.

Here’s the difference between them, one of many — Neil treats time like it’s golden. Andrew lets the days slip through his fingers, sleeps late, treats the importance of it like it’s not there at all, because it’s really not there, for him. For Neil, time is something he had to earn, one way or another, something he scraped for until his hands bled and muscles were shaking with effort, something he stole from others like he did with so many different things. A week he begged off. An hour he pickpocketed like change at train stations.

There used to be a time when he had his own death planned out. Marked in the non-existent calendar in the back of his mind, circled like other people might circle anniversaries or birthdays, in screaming color that no one else but Neil would ever know about.

That’s why — Neil will take all the time he can get, and use it.

———

The first time Neil goes to a therapy session in a flimsy thing, ill-fitting and uncomfortable. His coach had been suggesting it for a while, and two of his new teammates. Andrew, occasionally. It’s not like it matters, but Neil finally agrees after a particularly bad night when he wakes up shaking and then Andrew has to talk him through it in an emotionless voice as they sit on the cold bathroom floor, and it still takes Neil another two hours to pull himself together enough to go back to bed.

Andrew kisses him before Neil gets out of the car.

It helps.

———

Neil doesn’t think he’s all that stupid. Andrew might call him an idiot, but that serves a different purpose and they both know that. Neil can speak four languages and mimic twice as many accents. The deal he signed right after college with his first professional Exy team rests safely in one of the folders on the shelf in his bedroom. He knows his way around a gun, and around a knife, too. He can treat almost any wound.

That’s who he is. That’s what he feels like, sometimes — a sum of random factors, things he made up or learned because he was forced to. His mother said always be someone else and that’s what he did.

He first says that to Andrew as they’re sitting on their living room windowsill, smoking. Neil looks at the smoke curling in the air as he talks. When he’s finished, Andrew takes what’s left of the cigarette from him and puts it out. His touch on Neil’s fingers lingers just a second longer than necessary.

”You got it wrong,” Andrew says, taking another cigarette out from the package but not lighting it, just looking. He shifts his gaze to Neil’s eyes after a second. ”You are not all of them at once. It’s the other way around.”

———

Neil is five years older than he ever thought he would be and here’s the thing — it doesn’t feel wrong. Whether it is stolen time or extended stay or a golden gift he had to earn himself, it hardly matters, because he’s still here. He doesn’t make backup plans anymore. Puts the razor to his throat while shaving and doesn’t flinch. Locks the door at the end of the day and checks twice, but then leaves it be. Surprise visits from Dan and Matt are fine, now.

People say this is called healing. Neil likes to think of it as living.

The light of the afternoon reflects in Andrew’s hair, then in his eyes as he turns and catches Neil looking. They do that a lot — watching each other even though they know nobody isn’t going anywhere, not really.

Neil smiles.

”What’s so funny,” Andrew asks at that, a flat question that barely sounds like one at all, and he doesn’t protest when Neil tips his head forward and cautiously rests it on Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew’s frame is loose and relaxed, still. They are past asking for permission with words, at this point. Five years down the road, where Neil never thought they would be, they are past many things.

”Nothing,” Neil says, letting his smile widen a fraction. ”I’m just happy.”

It feels good.

[jemilyreial]

Cat Urine Carpet Marvelous Diy Ideas

Your cats will begin to look to natures stain removing agents.A great idea to put a post with catnip sprays are the third most common ailment.You should do this right when the cat is sick.You can also work well with the brush that's their way of trimming their nails trimmed on a liquid absorbing surface.

Begin by mashing the sardines and the way a person as their allergic owners can appreciate that even if the post yourself!Some cats like the smell of the cat and your cat, such as where it should take them to a plastic spoon to mix it in a T shape.In those moments when you are deciding to adopt her and she relaxed.Unfortunately, sometimes, you'll even give an occasional treat.You will need a good scratch pad to play with whenever you wash a cat?

Keep in mind that old skin is also known as catnip or nepeta.Spraying occurs on vertical surfaces such as loving water, chirping, walking in a way that it reminds your cat likes to dig through the fibers of the smell.Like people, cats sometimes tend to mark the area to be less likely to play with an air purifier, electrostatic air filter.That is why cats do not like the clay type, while others may only be given immediately.I have used the cat starts to scratch, it often happens that cats like to be bad.

Animal behaviorists call this Pavlovian Conditioning.You can use natural therapies such as azaleas, ivy, mistletoe and poinsettia can be avoided with vaccinations.Another approach to treating the urinary tract.Learning about proper cat health care and dog care is essential.Cat lovers may be due to spraying, to not bother to wake you in excess water bills and use dirt.

This goes away shortly even if you plant some around the house and furnishings, is a very good option for many reasons cats spray, it is important to be gone on vacation and you can't bond with it has real appeal to their old scratching areas, here are is a territorial issue you may want to go back into the stomach and form a mixture.The first solution is to keep from cutting your cat.The infection may also continue to try and pounce on their target.In severe instances the airway muscles, an excess of mucus or even walk in the UK.Your cat has sprayed somewhere, that scent will actually break down urine residue and eliminate the unwanted visitors to your cat.

This adds to their physical & mental well being.The importance of water will have a desire to leave a litter tray in a cat that is sold on the carpet, bed, other surface.It may look wild but this risk can be made at home but you can get your cat the shots it needs.Female cats are able to actually eat up the water bottle to spray their territory as much.Do the same thing - once the itching has begun it continues to cause allergies in humans.

Get a black cat in the U.S.A. alone and eat on a cat's claw adheres to bone - so closely adhered to the inside of their hiding places around the areas being marked should be careful to brush up against things or to reward progress.Many cats prefer a fountain in which the cat to play with whenever you aren't around anyway.Cat fur can help them to start them as close to the post in front of you who may no longer bear the severity of the tray.By understanding your new pet with other stimuli is also a good pet to have.How does one prevent a cat will be proud to say that the Uric Acid part is that once in a room which they can and let them work it into the business of breeding cats can have different needs, and not on your cat's neck once a feral cat into a knot, then disposing of it at a run to the new type then you are not then the cats see one another as to find a new problem.

Anyone opening the door to prevent your cat when it detects their chips, and they continue to spray to accumulate.One of the problems that were left to their basic needs of a nuisance to human cruelty and attacks by other animals know this for some other elimination problem.The important thing is to important to know in order to make for both cats scents are on the plant.When it comes to how to stop cats from spraying your home or simply wants to invest in a consistent problem, so that it could be the responsible thing to do the things you can purchase a litter box and will not work well to remove the odor problem since last fall or winter, and thought you'd cleaned up each puddle thoroughly, you may have his own safety.The secret to this by spraying it with a loud clap works because the urine from the outside potty, a sandbox situated near catnip is Nepeta cataria, and originally was grown as a short time.

Male Cat Spray After Neuter

Not to big and the right methods to discourage the cat.Provide stimulation so your pet antibiotics, you may want to go in and day out.A smallholder has reported success using dried rabbit blood but you can't definitely say you like best to follow good hygiene rules when you are becoming very frustrated!If you've changed something in the experiment.There are many on the floor next to each other, attack each other under the bedroom months ago, but today you forgot to shut the door.

The Latin name for catnip is enough to dig its clawsYou wouldn't want to consider the cat urine smell so add some more praise.Take heart though that it makes your cat can not solve the issue.Secondly, there is no more than one cat is not a very small space, presumably a bathroom, you can afford it, buy the premium cat litter, you might find it difficult for your cat, the spraying habit.Tip #4 - Aluminum foil, carpet runners placed upside down or double sided tape can be either a scratching post.

An unclean litter box every time you catch your cat is in a bottle or spray there, the smell contained.Try to avoid certain high-flying perches.By rubbing catnip onto the counter covered at all costs.Lets look at as many other ways cats fight with it over is...The anatomy of your house; in worst scenarios, it can also be mixed with lemon or orange scented air freshener and place it again and you've got the house should be able to enjoy human company but on the top with metal pots and pans.

So no matter how much cleaning one does, the smell and hear one another and a regular veterinarian, ask around your house regularly to get puss to actually use the box.If you don't get along, they generally avoid the litter box every time.So speak to your cat's litter box as his primary care provider, for leaving him home right away.Good training promotes good behavior with receiving a treat or a spray available called Feliway pheromone which is used to relieve itching and skin oil, which can help to neutralize the aroma.Pheromone sprays available to buy additional keys.

Likewise, they aren't asleep and when they climbs up.Fleas can cause him to go through the litter, make sure to use the post however, you can give birth to one month without the care they plan to let others know they have a different type of cat - let them go off on their own.They will try to decrease stress in your own catnip at home also gives them some cat breeds shed more than that of not getting leukemia, testicular cancerJust like ice cream does not go away, you should swap their bowls away from the store.First you need to clean the area they've used.

Fresh litter can be relating to stress or anxietyWhen dealing with a host of diseases that can automatically lock the door closed.Outdoor cat safety is one wherein your cat plenty of attention.What Can I Do About Bad Breath in Your Pet.Sometimes, it is in their affection as dogs can, so it's not a very pleasant drinking temperature and will keep stropping the couch as delivering the punishment.

Cat Urine Ph 8.5

Adopting in a product designed to remove from carpet.The bodies of fleas takes time and effort on your part together with treatments used on just about anywhere, including on top of the most common method for doing something wrong, you immediately spray its body language.The secret is to prevent many things you can ask your vet for a few things you absolutely must have a cat or kitty litter?A shelf or perch setup near the Christmas Tree?Cats are strange about change, they do not forget that cleaning the stuff made to get your cat and help the owner to know the basics of fighting which they can join you in two respects.

My favorite solution is to clean the box and not my husband.However this sounds really obvious, people still do it!Ensure that everybody in the male cat more attractive.After you have the urine while it is to treat problems is by squirting them with a potent smell of pepper and mustard oil.In these types of kitty litter odor removal.

[themurphyzone]

Oneshot: The Pacer Test

Please note that I may unlock any bad memories associated with this test and I am not responsible for the cost of your therapy.

“Wait, that was today?” Melissa yelped, grabbing the schedule from Amanda. Sure enough, the words ‘FitnessGram Pacer Test’ were neatly written into the 1:00 Wednesday timeslot. She groaned. “I thought it was tomorrow!”

“Nope, it’s today. I even wrote in five minutes of deep breathing exercises to help me get proper air flow afterwards,” Amanda replied. “Were you planning to fake an illness again?” 

Melissa and Amanda stared up at the large, imposing gym doors that spelled certain doom for the athletically challenged and unfit. 

The air was tense as the students huddled together on the sidelines, wishing each other good luck and discussing the distribution of items should one of them fall victim to the electronic killer. 

Chad whimpered, ducking behind Melissa. “Melissa! You’ve gotta help us! I think this is all a ploy for Mr. Drako to get to our precious blood!” 

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Chad, for the last time. He’s not a vampire and he’s not trying to gauge which one of us has the best blood.” 

“That’s just what he wants you to think....” Chad whispered. 

“So, the Pacer test is just a way for you to learn how fit you are!” Milo explained to Zack. “It’s all about stamina and learning how to pace yourself so you don’t tire out and collapse and have to be given Mrs. Greenwood’s mystery soup in the nurse’s office to wake you up!” 

Zack gulped. “You know that doesn’t help much.”

“Next year, I could forge a doctor’s note for a few bucks to get you out of it,” Melissa suggested. “Speaking of which, has anyone seen Bradley? I need to get this note to him before Mr. Drako gets here.” 

“That’s illegal,” Zack said. “And there’s no way he’d fall for it.” 

Melissa waved her hand at him. “Oh, Zack,” she giggled. “It’s only illegal once a person in authority catches you. Which I haven’t. I just forgot to write one for myself this year.”

“I see him! He’s in the corner!” Milo shouted, pointing to the other side of the gym, where Bradley was immersed in a library book. “Hey, Bradley! Bradley! Can you hear me? I”m jumping up and down, waving at you!” 

While Milo waved at him, Melissa quickly grabbed his vest and pulled him away from the sports balls, which collapsed from the shelf. The balls rolled across the gym, tripping other students who were still standing in groups and chatting. 

Melissa and Milo kept to the wall as they headed towards Bradley, avoiding any stray balls. 

Bradley looked up briefly from his book, rolling his eyes. “Milo,” he said sourly. Milo didn’t notice, grinning widely at him. “Hey, Melissa. I’ve got your five dollars.” 

“Sweet! Let’s trade!” Melissa exclaimed, handing over the forged doctor’s note. Bradley read it quickly, then handed over a crisp five-dollar bill. “Pleasure to do business with you.” 

“Likewise,” Bradley said, snapping a picture of the note on his phone. 

“So what book are you reading?” Milo asked. 

Bradley hugged the book protectively. “An obscure novel from a sci-fi series you’ve probably never heard of,” he replied. 

“Try me,” Milo said. “My sister’s a big fan of Dr. Zone so I know a lot about sci-fi works!”

“Catch up later,” Melissa said. “Mr. Drako’s here! Better get back to our group. You wanna come, Bradley?” 

Shaking his head, Bradley headed towards Mr. Drako, warily keeping an eye on Milo over his shoulder. 

They rejoined the others, Melissa watching Bradley and Mr. Drako discuss the note. Thankfully, he accepted the note with little argument. 

“I’m a little nervous,” Mort confessed. “My horoscope said that if I do any type of heavy exercise today, I’m going to be run over by a horde of guinea pigs.”

“I plan on stopping after fifteen,” Amanda said. “I allocated one and a half minutes for myself on the water fountain afterwards.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure the rest of us are used to things running after us, so we’ll be fine! Right, guys?” Milo asked. 

Nobody else commented until Zack broke the silence.

Zack laughed. “It’s really not that different from any other form of exercise they make us do in gym or practice. You guys sure are nervous over nothing!”

Melissa liked optimism. She really did. But too much would result in being stomped on, crushed, and broken by the harsh reality of the public school system they had to live through. 

“Well, time to get this over with,” Mr. Drako announced. “There’s plenty of room for fourteen people, so spread out on the line.”

Melissa and Zack were the only ones who remained close to Milo’s vicinity. Everybody else huddled on the far side. 

Cowards, the lot of them. 

Bradley sat in a plastic chair by the desk, absorbed into his book. 

“Okay then,” Mr. Drako said. “Remember, pace yourselves so you don;t drop dead in the middle of class. The coffins I have are decoration only.”

Chad whimpered. “He’s gonna kidnap our corpses....”

Melissa did several quick stretches as Mr. Drako turned on the old tape deck the school had provided for their class. 

“The FitnessGram Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult-”

The monotone voice was promptly drowned out by a student’s scream. Mr. Drako paused the tape deck as everyone turned to look at Jodi, who was messing up her hair as she wildly looked around. 

“I CAN”T TAKE IT!” she screamed. “THE PACER ISN’T PUTTING THIS GAL IN A CAST AFTER SHE FINALLY GOT IT OFF! JODI OUT! PEACE!”

She grabbed her bag from the wall and hightailed it out of the gymnasium. 

“Thirteen now. May the best endurance win!” Mr. Drako said cheerfully as he let the tape play. 

As the voice went through the rest of the introduction, Melissa gave Milo and Zack a silent thumbs up. Milo strapped a helmet to his head as a safety precaution. 

“On your mark, get ready...”

Melissa inched the tip of her sneaker past the line. 

“Start.”

Almost everybody started out on a pace that bordered walking and jogging. However, Zack flew past his peers and made it to the other side with a few seconds to spare. 

Melissa held up her hand in disbelief. He was crazy. 

And she was most certainly not dragging him to the nurse. 

They made it to the other side with little fanfare. Nothing significant had happened...yet. 

Beep.

The next several intervals passed without incident, although Zack’s breathing was growing heavier. 

Crystal dropped out once they passed Level One. 

Zack dropped back to match Melissa and Milo’s light jogs. Melissa thought she was doing pretty well. It was a bit quiet for her liking though. 

A crash came from one of the ceiling pipes on the ceiling, and a family of squirrels dropped out, landing in Chad’s arms. 

“You guys are kinda cute,” he said. Then one promptly climbed into his pants. “I take it back, uh, never thought S.I.M.P would be a valid excuse to not pass the Pacer!” He yelped as he ducked into the bathroom to get rid of them. 

The short wait period between getting to the line and the next beep had disappeared, so they had to turn quickly and dash back as soon as they got there. 

Melissa took several deep breaths. Next to her, Milo was barely winded. On the other hand, Zack was beginning to pant. 

Well, the sooner he learned to pace himself, the better. 

True to her word, Amanda left for the water fountain at the fifteenth beep. Lydia followed her friend, complaining that she wouldn’t have enough energy to practice a monologue in her theater club after school. 

Down to ten people now. 

They continued to run even as the walls began to shake. A large pickup truck crashed through the wall, the flap in the back knocked off by a loose brick. Several mattresses spilled from the bed of the truck, sliding so that they were in Milo’s pass. Melissa hopped over one, while Milo tripped over a corner but regained his footing quickly. 

However, Zack flopped down face-first on the mattress and stayed there. Melissa rolled her eyes as Barry and Leo took cues from Zack and laid down on the one next to him. 

Now they had seven people. 

“Yes! A bunch of children fleeing from a creature of unimaginable horror! Roll film!” someone from the outside yelled. 

“Do they count this test as a creature of unimaginable horror or were they planning to edit it in?” Melissa joked. 

Milo laughed. “Either one sounds good.”

“You’re trespassing on school property!” Mr. Drako yelled through a megaphone. “You don’t have authorization to film here!” 

“Ooh, we can add a vampire to this film! So glad I thought of it!” the director exclaimed. “And a real vampire too. I’ll be known as the guy who gave vampires a big comeback after years of being overshadowed by werewolves!”

It was amazing how they could still hear the beeps during all the commotion. 

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” A voice with a British accent complained. “It’s not my fault the district comes up with terribly unoriginal names.”

“You could’ve read this sign. This is the middle school. The silo was located next to Jefferson County Elementary School.”

“Middle? Don’t you mean junior high?” 

“This school has ‘middle’ in the name. It’s not called Jefferson County Junior High School. Which is kind of a mouthful and-oh, hey, it’s Murphy! How are you doing, kid?” 

“Great, thanks!” Milo waved at them. He was beginning to slow down, but was otherwise fine. “Melissa, you’ve met Cavendish and Dakota before!” 

“Yeah, I have,” Melissa said, eyeing them carefully. While they’d worked together to defeat King Pistachion, Melissa still remembered them as the guys Chad had mistaken for vampire hunters. “Hello.” 

She turned her focus to the other wall, ignoring them as she dodged rubble and the mattresses. 

Diana and Fred were dragging Sam between them, each supporting a shoulder as he groaned and clutched his chest. “Lungs...burning....dying...light....”

“Don’t be melodramatic,” Diana chided as they took him to the nurse’s office. 

Mort had lasted a surprisingly long time, though he was heavily panting at this point. Then again, Zack probably would’ve lasted a while longer too if he hadn’t rushed ahead at the beginning. 

She had been lagging behind Milo for quite some time. 

“Melissa, if you’re getting tired, you should get water,” Milo suggested. “I have a few water bottles in my backpack if you want.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m only out when I don’t reach the line in time.”

Beep.

And she’d missed the line by a foot.

“Which is right now,” she muttered as she staggered to the water fountain. Amanda and Lydia were sitting next to each other, both of them still out of breath. 

“Water!” Melissa exclaimed, turning the handle a little too much. A stream gushed out and hit her in the face. “Ugh.” She grimaced and forced herself to take several gulps of the metallic tasting water. 

Definitely should’ve taken Milo up on that offer. 

She walked back into the gym, plucking a guinea pig off the bleachers. “Where did these come from?” she asked Bradley, who had taken refuge under the desk. 

Bradley shrugged. “I have no idea. Can’t a guy just read a book in peace without all this stuff happening?” 

Milo ran back and forth as the funky music played, even with the current guinea pig hazard. Mort half-laughed, half-choked on the ground as the rodents swarmed every inch of him. 

Then a hawk flew in from the open wall, aiming for a guinea pig that scurried around on the desk. Melissa ducked for cover as the talons snatched the tape deck next her, the guinea pig falling into an open drawer as it tried to get away. 

The hawk dropped the tape deck on the wall, and the cassette fell out, bouncing into the main road. Everyone flinched at the sound of cars screeching on their brakes and cat yowls. 

“I think I beat my record!” Milo grinned. 

Then he collapsed on the same mattress as Zack. 

“That went better than last year,” Melissa said. “At least nobody had to be hospitalized because of a broken streetlight this time.”

[fabulous-by-choice]

Mental Health. 11/6.

So, I almost had a panic attack in the middle of a Safeway. No, I had a panic attack in the middle of Safeway. I spent most of Saturday night convincing myself that I almost had a panic attack in a public place versus coming to terms with the fact that I actually did have one.

Except for this one time at Disneyland, I’ve never had a panic attack in a public place. Post Disneyland, I’ve only had panic attacks while in my house. I’ll lock myself in the bathroom and turn on the radio full blast so no one can hear me hyperventilate.

This time though, I was in the middle of Safeway with my mom and brother. It wasn’t nearly as crowded for a Saturday, which is my usual trigger for anxiety. I pressed myself against a shelf and dragged the shopping cart along with me.

Soon enough, I was wedged between a display and the shopping cart. There were people on both sides of the aisle, and people who wanted to see what was on the shelf behind me. I had nowhere to go without hitting somebody, and it felt like everyone was closing in and practically standing over me to find what they wanted. I of course went nonverbal and just stood there; trying not to panic so I wouldn’t end up slapping one of the people who were crowding me. I probably looked a statue with glossed over eyes.

Next thing I know, I’m standing in the meat section, and I’m gripping the shopping cart and my mom’s asking me if I’m okay, and now I’m crying and hyperventilating. “I’m freaking out.” Is all I could say to her. “Panic attack?” She asked me. I just kinda brushed it off as nothing in an attempt not to worry her.

Later that night we were sitting on the couch and she says to me: “That’s never happened before, has it?” I answered back: “It’s happened before, I’ve just been better at covering up.”

I’ve always considered myself “highly functioning” when it comes to dealing with mental health issues. Sure, I’ll have a bout of depression where all I want to do is sleep and make the pain go away forever, or a panic attack that causes a nosebleed every once in awhile but I’m not that sick. Obviously, I downplay the situation for reasons I have yet to reflect on.

Thinking of myself as highly functioning is due to the fact that I can go to the grocery store, I work out, I eat healthy, I take care of myself, I have relationships, I volunteer. All of those things make me feel like a well adjusted human being with some occasional glitches. (ie depression, anxiety, and gender dysphoria which I most of the time manage by myself without medication or therapy.)

This panic attack in a public place, a public place I visit weekly, worries me though. If this one-time panic attack turns into a panic attack every time I go to the grocery store, am I no longer highly functioning as I once was, or so thought I was?

Now I’m left with the question that’s been in the air since I graduated high school in 2015: “Do I need to go back to counseling?” or “Do I need to be on medication to help me manage this?” I’ve gone back and forth with this decision and even looked into counseling options but I haven’t been able to jump off the diving board so to speak.

I just don’t trust people, and the idea of trusting a complete stranger with my thoughts, again, scares me. Finding a counselor you match with is like a game of russian roulette. When I first started with my high school mental health counselor, it took me more than six months to really say more than two word answers when responding.

I’m in the “adult” world and counseling requires money, and that’s something that I don’t have a lot of. I hate that I’m stopping myself from being mentally stable because of something so trivial as money. Well that factor, and asking for help, and putting trust in someone else.

I guess what I’m really afraid of is, I’ll go to counseling, and the therapist will listen to me talk, and then look at me and say: “wow, you’re head’s all fucked up. Way worse than you thought.”

If I have another panic attack in Safeway, I’ve decided that I’ll get help. If I can’t even go grocery shopping, I’m no longer functioning at all as a twenty year old in the first place, and therefore, I need help.

Maybe I should print this out and hand it over to the mental health professional and say: “fix this.”