#-love addict-

[shmitty]

Long walk

I wished I had not been woken from my slumber

I dreamt of a long road surrounded by darkness and fog

Yet your light was always there

How long had I walked?

Seemed like a eternity

Where was I going?

-l.a.-

[animal-s0ul]

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[dorothywonderland]

Is it considered plagiarism if you're copying your own comic?

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

[s0up1ta]

"so grunkle ford how do you know bill?"

"... that's not important."

[slutdge]

i want addicts to be safe and fed and housed and loved unconditionally i am 100% serious

[uncanny-tranny]

I guess what gets me about fatphobia is seeing someone literally recovering from addiction and gaining weight being framed as a bad thing because a substance use problem that is eating you from the inside out is preferable so long as you are twenty pounds lighter.

It has never been about people's health.

[gothamite-rambler]

"Who do we know that did drugs? I got it!" Batman said, calmly.

Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne stood in the Batcave, looking over some data on the Batcomputer.

Dick: None of us have done drugs or made drugs, but we need someone who's versed in it. Who?

Bruce (excited, sudden realization): I got it! Call Jason!

Dick: He blocked you again?

Bruce looked a bit sheepish, but quickly recovered.

Bruce (defensive): You’re not calling him?!

Sighing, Dick reluctantly pulled out his phone and dialed Jason’s number. Jason answered, but before Dick can say a word, Bruce suddenly knocked him to the ground and snatched the phone from his hand.

Bruce: Are you still friends with Roy? We need to learn how crack is made. We’re tracking someone!

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, Jason started laughing—slowly at first, then breaking into fits of uncontrollable laughter. In the background, a weary sigh can be heard that isn’t Jason’s.

Jason (laughing, catching his breath): I’ll ask him. Hey Roy—

Roy (in the background, exasperated): Fuck you!

Jason (chuckling, responds to Bruce): I think he can help us.

Bruce: Oh, thank God.

Dick, now back on his feet, glaring at Bruce with a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

Dick: You could’ve just asked for the phone!

Batman: Get over it.

Roy: You know I was on heroin not crack!

Batman: I will send you $6,000 if you are honest with me and tell me you at least know how it's made.

Roy (huffing as Jason laughs harder because he knows what's about to happen): Okay, you're going to need a pen.

[fanaticalthings]

POV: You're the oldest sibling

it's tough being the oldest.

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Bonus:

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:

There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’

like wow babe. good fucking point

[shmitty]

-The odd I see -

I sometimes wonder if my body is the Argos

Ever faithful

Ever holding on

Refusing

To give up until my soul completes it's epic journey

In the end

They will meet for a finale moment

With just enough time to say goodbye

Oh

The odd I see

[soahbee]

Older men are the strongest drugs and I'm addicted.

[gyustellations]

how i sleep after slicing my legs open

[taya-ki]

Just thin king about one piece yaoi real hard...

[158590]

[pokeberry5]

i feel like i never draw tim smiling but bb robin tim smiles a lot! (in between angst and tragedy)

brought to you by my continued attempts at figuring out tim’s early robin hair