#Can probably get to that point again without horrendous alcohol abuse but it's so fucking frustrating not being able to

[prolibytherium]

I am going to be 100% real my art got stiffer and more boring after I stopped binge drinking every day of my life circa mid 2022

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.20 "Into the Frying Pan"

CW: airplane setting, hospital setting, police mention, drugs/alcohol/cigarettes, nightmare/ptsd mention, tics/tourettes, injury description, discussion of noncon/dubcon, nsfw themes, conditioned whumpee trying to initiate sex with caretaker, dehumanizing language/discussion, discussion of past abuse, food mention, discussion of wearing a collar, derogatory language, strangling mention (let me know if I missed anything!)

It was all at once insanely overwhelming and yet incredibly simple for Elias to be away from August, to be on his own. He was allowed to just sit peacefully on his own, no one's hands were on him, there was no tight collar to make him feel suffocated. The flight attendants would occasionally sit with him and ask him how he was doing, if he needed anything, and he was thankful to be otherwise left alone. The lack of constant stress allowed him to lull himself off into a fitful, drunken sleep, where the dreams were horrendous but not stronger than his fatigue. At some point, one of the nice flight attendants keeping an eye on him draped her jacket over him, smiling at him when he woke up to look at her.

"You looked cold," she excused herself. "We'll be landing in about an hour and a half."

"Thank you so much." He grumbled back, tightening the jacket around him to get warmer, then he promptly fell back asleep.

The hospital visit was long and tedious, and by the end apparently also pointless, because they simply couldn't do anything for him. His injuries were plenty, and they had all been severe in the beginning, but by now they were all healed just enough for the doctors to slap some antibiotics and pain relievers on him and call it a day. The meds they gave him seemed diluted by the leftover drugs in his blood, so even that didn't matter.

He wasn't allowed to go straight home after that, like he'd been hoping, instead he was taken to the police station to talk about August. By then he wanted nothing more than to just be back with No Name, and the longer he wasn't the worse he felt.

"Is there anything we can get you while we wait?" People kept asking him, ever since he'd gotten on the plane. It was incredibly unnerving, didn't they know he was just an idiot pet, that he didn't get wants? He guessed maybe not having a collar on wasn't helping his case.

Right now the person asking him was a large police officer, waiting with him outside. Elias felt his stare fixated on him, probably on the tears stained on his face, or the tired, far off look in his eyes.

"Would you be able to get me a cigarette? Please?" The request came out slightly mangled and watery, he was surprised to hear himself asking for it. He was never allowed to ask for anything, he half expected to be slapped across the head for it. Instead, the officer reached out at a safe distance with one in hand. "Oh. Th...thank you so much."

As he lit up, the chill breeze ran through his hair, making him feel gradually more sober. He looked up at the palm trees swaying slightly, the realization that he was home really started to sink in. It was all gonna be ok because he was home. After talking about August and all of the atrocities he'd put him through with the police for a few hours, he felt like he had relived it all. And now it could be done, he just had to wait for No Name.

"Is that him there?" The officer piped up suddenly, making Elias flinch. He looked up to see him approaching, his shoulders high with tension.

Elias dropped his cigarette to the ground with a gasp, his hands flying to cover his eyes in pure shock. He was there! He came! Elias could've fallen over in ecstasy.

"Elias, my darling," he was saying as he got closer, his voice on the very edge of breaking, "Elias I'm here. I'm here."

One inch at a time, Elias dropped his fingers, peering up at him with tears in his eyes. How could he possibly have any more tears left? Now that he was looking at him, he was overwhelmed with relief, absolutely flooded with the promise of safety. No Name's hair was so much longer than Elias remembered, put up in messy dreads, and his face was glowing healthily. Was there...genuine, actual love in his eyes? Elias hadn't seen that in August's face for so long, his stare was often only predatory and arrogant, despite how often he threw around the word, he didn't ever look like he felt love for Elias. He couldn't fight the tears anymore, he dropped his hands to the side in complete surrender and choked back a few pathetic whines.

"Hey, hey, it's ok," he assured him, timidly stepping toward him, "you're alright."

"I c-cant...I'm so happy t-to see you." He sobbed, biting his lip to try not to get too loud. "I'm s-so relieved."

With a small, pleased hum, he grabbed Elias's arm gently, testing how much touch he would allow. "Come here, Eli."

The nickname sounded heavenly back in his mouth, and hearing the way his voice glazed over it with no remorse or second guess made Elias positively break, stumbling the step forward into his welcoming arms.

Cologne and lemons and weed. That's what he smelled like. That's what Tyson smelled like. "Oh god. Tyson. Fucking hell, Tyson."

"I've got you Elias," Tyson whispered, voice watery with his own tears, "I'm here, darling."

Elias couldn't contain himself after that, he was ticcing melodically in Tyson's arms, his name slipping out every few seconds, his hands tightening and loosening around his shirt. "You're here, Tyson. I'm so...oh Tyson..."

Slowly, Tyson led him to his car, without fully letting go of him. Only when he opened the door for him did he pull away, watching him duck in with red, swollen eyes.

"You look so different," Elias mumbled, picking at a loose thread on his borrowed pants, "I feel like it's been years."

Tyson sighed heavily, reaching over to take his hand. "Nearly 10 months."

Elias closed his eyes, a breathless whine squeezing past his lips. Ten months?! He couldn't believe that it had really been that long since they'd seen each other, and yet at the same time it felt more like years. It made him feel sick, thinking about it in that way. Ten whole months of torture, of wondering when August would snap again, terrified he would get killed if he said something deemed unpleasant. "That's...that's a really long time."

Tyson gave a somber nod, then glanced over and saw how sad it had also made Elias, and he squeezed his leg softly and forced the subject to change. "God, I've missed your voice so very badly. I'm so happy to hear you talking."

Elias couldn't take his eyes off of Tyson, and he found himself desperately holding his wrist with both hands to make sure he didn't pull away. "I forgot your name." He blurted. "I'm so sorry."

"My name?" Tyson chuckled, throwing him a questioning glance.

"When I was out there I...all I could remember was your voice and your face. I-I forgot your n-name and I feel like shit a-about it. I'm so - fucking shit - I'm so sorry."

Tyson's jaw flexed a few times, and Elias thought maybe he'd pissed him off. You're off with August for not even a year and you forget about me? You stupid slut, I can't believe I ever thought I could love you-

"Elias, you've been stuck in an absolute nightmare for the longest time. I cannot even begin to imagine..." He trailed off, shaking his head to himself. "Things are gonna be ok. You're here and you remember my name now. That's all that matters."

A shuddery breath shook Elias's frame as he tried to calm himself, and he slowly reached up to loop his fingers around his throat. When his fingers fell onto bare skin, a jolt of panic shocked through him. He didn't realize how used to the collar he'd gotten, but now that it was gone he felt stripped, naked in the worst way. He kept his hand there, cold fingers pressed to his own pulse, the entire ride back to the apartment.

It looked about the same as he remembered, which didn't mean much because every memory was sort of hazy and muddled through the drugs and injury caused brain damage. He stood in the center of the living room while Tyson set his things down in the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything Elias?" Tyson asked when he came back in. He had a glass of water in his hands, and Elias cringed hard as he took it from him.

"People keep asking me that," he mumbled, "I'm not...not allowed..."

Tyson frowned at him, tilting his head to the side. He gave Elias a second to answer on his own, but he'd already decided to stop talking. "Not allowed what, Eli?"

"Not allowed to want things. I wish people would stop...stop asking what I want. I can't want anything."

The face Tyson made at that was like he smelt something foul, his nose wrinkling as he thought about what he'd been told. He had guessed that Elias would be damaged when he got back, but it had been so long he couldn't even fathom what broken pieces he'd have to work with.

"Ok. Finish your water and we'll get you in the shower. How's that?" He kept his voice gentle in the suggestion, relieved when some of the tension dropped from Elias's shoulders with a nod.

"Thank you."

"Let me know if you're ready to talk about anything, yeah?" As he asked, he inched his way forward, looking him over carefully. He could see the faint outline of sharp bruises around his neck, a large scar barely healed on his bottom lip, and on top of it all large purple and blue blotches scattered his pale skin. "Elias...I'm so sorry I didn't do more to stop him."

Now it was Elias's turn to flinch at the distasteful words, shaking his head quickly. "It was my choice, please don't be-"

"No, my love," Tyson protested, softly caressing his arm, "no, I should have done more. You got hurt, I should have done more to help you. I am so incredibly sorry."

Elias was tearful at the words, leaning into his touch eagerly. "Tyson I... I missed you so bad. I felt so empty without you." His lungs tightened as Tyson got closer, his hands staying so gentle against his arms that it was jarring. Elias had to remind himself that he wasn't going to hurt him, this was Tyson, Tyson wouldn't do anything to harm him, but he couldn't help the uncomfortable anxious burning in his chest when he got so close.

"I love you, Eli." He whispered.

The look on his face alone was enough to send Elias reeling, the genuine, evident adoration made his head spin. The last time someone was telling him they loved him, the only emotion he saw on his face was some sort of sick obsession, a look that told him the "love" was only surface level. He began to openly cry, barely able to bite back his sobs.

"Y-you...you do?" He whined, suddenly not able to look at him head on. The emotions were so strong and heavy that he felt weighed down. Again, he wondered how his body was still producing tears. It was probably why Tyson had given him the water. "Really?"

"Yes, really." With that, Tyson kissed the bridge of his nose ever so gently, even when he flinched a little and closed his eyes. "Now let's get you cleaned up, huh?"

"Please."

Being nude wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been before, being forced to put himself on display for prying eyes and watering mouths ready to grab and pet and squeeze made him shamefully accustomed to not wearing clothes. Even though Tyson could easily overpower him and do any of that to him, he only touched him when he was sure it would be alright, only looked at him when he spoke. He was a little uneasy because he couldn't tell what Tyson was thinking, if he was disgusted or put off and that's why he wasn't touching him. Or maybe he'd done something wrong and Tyson was punishing him. Or he just wasn't pretty enough. He could make himself pretty, he was getting good at that, at carrying himself the way people liked him: as an object.

He did this as he was helped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. He was relieved when he felt Tyson's stare fixated on him, and he forced himself to look up at him through half-hooded lids. "Thank you, Ty," he murmured, in that way that August always loved, the way that made him go soft for a split second and then hold him closely and gently. When Tyson didn't do that, he took a shaky breath and closed the space between them, grabbing his bicep to get closer.

"Do you feel better?" He grumbled. Elias's eyes fluttered closed when Tyson reached out to run his thumb along his cheek.

"I do. Thank you so much." When he was met with silence, he turned his head slightly, pressing his lips against Tyson's wrist. His whole demeanor was screaming "touch me, please touch me" but Tyson didn't move, keeping his hand against his jaw, watching, waiting. Elias could scream.  He was too used up, that's what it was. August would hardly touch him anymore either, for the same reason: because he was a used up toy, no fun anymore. And Tyson felt the same way. It killed him to know that he wouldn't ever experience the bliss of Tyson's adoring hands on him, his warm mouth murmuring sweet nothings against his skin, his name falling from his lips, ever again.

"What are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?" Tyson asked him, shifting a little to stroke his hair, humming when Elias pressed into his touch desperately.

"I'm so...I'm afraid that I'm useless now." He admitted. "I know that you won't use me and...and if I'm not being used I...i just want to be important. Useful."

Tyson let out a soft, seemingly disappointed sigh, one that made Elias cringe. "Is that what it was like with August?"

He nodded slowly, not even making an effort to look up at him, too afraid he would see anger or betrayal or even nothing. That's what he was really afraid of, seeing no emotion there, the same blank stare August often gave him, toward the end. "I was just a toy, and August used me for a little while but then other people...they just started taking me too, because I was made t-to be used. But I guess I messed up cause August started hiding me and no one was allowed to touch me or speak to me and I don't want that to happen again, Ty, I want to be useful and good-"

"Eli, take a breath angel," he cooed, stepping closer to him, "I'm not them. You're a human being, and I care about you a great deal, I'm not going to use you."

Don't cry, Elias thought to himself, save your tears for when you really need them. Don't fucking cry. You look so ugly when you cry. He noticed that the voice saying it wasn't his own, rather August's low grumble. He wondered if it would always be there, saying awful things in the back of his mind. Tyson pulled his hand away, leaving Elias to sink into a frigid, freezing loneliness, the feeling of being in the basement was now inside of his chest. He brought his own fingers to his throat, wrapping his hands around his slender, bruised neck to ground himself. He hated himself for admitting it, but he knew deep down he'd look so much nicer with the collar, and maybe Tyson would use him then. Or he'd at least look at him the way he was meant to be looked at, with an intrigue and a thirst that barely overshadowed the guilt of it all. He knew the look well, he saw it every time he got up the courage to look up at the people using him. The dark eyes, the shameful pink tint to cheeks. Tyson would look at him like that, if only he was wearing his collar.

"Don't do this to me," he mumbled, voice breaking just a little, "you don't know how bad I n-need...i just need you-" he cut himself off with a swallow, shaking his head. He wasn't allowed needs or wants, what was he saying? Tyson could use him or ignore him however he saw fit, why did he think he had any say in the matter? "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry, love. Talk to me, tell me what you need."

"Nothing," he rushed, smiling through his tears, "I don't need anything. I'm perfect."

Tyson looked on the verge of arguing, ready to pry until he got something out of him, something worthy of a reaction. He knew, though, that Elias had shut himself up again, nervous to even be standing under his gaze. So he stepped away, nodding at him slowly. "Let's get you dressed, then."

Elias was thankful for the luxury of Tyson dressing him, after the whole day spent being treated far too well, too much like a person for his comfort. It was easy to slip back into the practiced doe-eyed, mindless little toy mindset as Tyson pulled his arms through his shirt, holding him steady as he slipped pants on. When Tyson stepped back to look at him, he had a fond grin on his face.

"You're so cute," he cooed, ruffling his hair playfully as he stepped away, "I missed you so much."

Elias blushed, bowing his head as a thank you. He felt cold under his stare, cooled down too quickly from the shower. He couldn't help the tremor that shook him slightly, and the second Tyson noticed, he reached out to grab his shoulders gently, pulling him against his chest. The warmth of being close to him made him weak at the knees, and Tyson tightened his grip as he keened against him. "Oh, Tyson," he whispered, "ah, you're so warm."

"Mm. I could hold you forever. You fit so perfectly in my arms." He gave him a light squeeze, listening to his breathing hitch gently.

"Tyson," he whined, trembling fingers twisting into his shirt, "ple-please touch me. I need you to touch me."

"You need it?" He repeated.

"Y-yes, Ty. I need it so bad it aches. Please." His voice was desperate, slightly fear tinted by hearing his own request. I can't have needs, he reminded himself, but this, oh this is the blood in my veins. This is the oxygen in my lungs. I will die if I can't have this. "Oh god, Tyson, please."

At that, Tyson's lips fell against his throat, causing him to tilt his head back with a small gasp. His skin was hot from Tyson's breath and it was constricting in the same comfortable way his collar was. "I love you, Elias."

Even though it was just a hushed whisper against his skin, Elias swooned, body light and airy at the words, Tyson's hands the only thing keeping him tethered to earth. "Ah...thank you.."

Tyson pulled off to look at him, a small grin on his face as he looked him over. The second he was off of him, Elias replaced Tyson's mouth on his neck with his fingers, dropping his head back down, face flushed and shoulders high. It was too much, entirely too much to have Tyson so close to him, touching him that way, and simultaneously it wasn't nearly enough.

"Anything else?" Tyson teased, leaning forwards as if to try and entice him. Elias was glued to the floor, refusing to look up at him after a breathless whine left his throat. "What is it, baby boy?"

He watched Elias melt at the words, legs shaking slightly as he stepped forward, quickly dropping to his knees in front of Tyson. He kept his arms raised in front of him in submission until Tyson took his wrists in his hands. He looked utterly broken as he peered up at him, the shower didn't help with the cuts and bruises as much as Tyson had been hoping. The bruises under his eyes seemed near permanent, and Tyson sighed heavily.

"Let me...let me make you feel good," Elias whispered, fingers reaching for the button of his jeans. Tyson's grip on his wrists was tight though, and Elias instinctively fell pliable in his grip, dropping his stretching fingers, when he realized Tyson wasn't going to let him move any more. "Wanna make myself useful."

Tyson dropped to his knees as well, keeping his grip secure on Elias as he did, trying to be at eye level. It was difficult because he was so much smaller than Tyson and he wouldn't look up at him anyways, but Tyson returned one of his hands to his own lap and coaxed him to look up with a finger just under his chin. "My love," he soothed him, "you don't even know what you're asking for. You've only been home an hour."

"But I-I don't...Ty..." His bottom lip trembled as he spoke, and now that his arm was free he once again rubbed nervously at his throat. Tyson had just started picking up on it, and all it made him think of was having to go pick up Elias from the hospital the first time, being told he'd been strangled. "P...please, Tyson. Hu-hurts."

"Look at you, Eli. You're shaking. Why don't we get you something to eat?"

"No!" He whined, looking rather afraid at his own outburst. "Tyson, I'm begging you-"

He froze when Tyson's hand replaced his own, fingers loose around his neck. "What is this, why do you keep doing that?"

Elias flinched a little at the harsh tone he used, then he relaxed into his hand. "I don't have my...uh...a collar. I'm not used to it yet, I guess."

"A collar?! Ugh, christ. Why would he..." He trailed off as he saw the sad, dejected wince pass over Elias's face. "Hey, no, it's not you, love. You did nothing wrong."

Elias nodded slowly, then straightened out his posture a little, taking a deep breath to reassure himself. "I'm sorry. I won't whine anymore."

Tyson was shocked by the quick change in demeanor, how, when Tyson's tone changed with him, Elias seemed to correct himself to not look so bothered, so ill. The way he carried himself was more thought out, like he was aware of every muscle in his body, how to present himself in a pleasant way. He stood up with a huff. "Ok, beautiful. Come on, I'll make you some food."

Elias let Tyson pull him up to his feet, then followed him to the kitchen. He was set down in a chair to watch and wait (and look pretty, don't forget to look pretty, Tyson keeps looking over at him and smiling softly but only when he remembers to be pretty). He ignored the burning need in his chest to be underneath the knife Tyson was using to cut up fresh fruit, or to be the water running over his hands as he washed the juice off. He was jealous that he couldn't be closer to him than he was, so jealous it hurt him. But he stayed in his place at the table, because it's where Tyson wanted him to be. And that's all that mattered.

[seeneverything]

today i decided to replay nick’s dlc! not only to catch back up and remain canon, but to look into his journals and the notes / environment around a little deeper to see if i can discover anything more about him, the game’s story, and the timeline of the game.

i have to say it somewhat surprised me that nick has handwriting that’s legible. i figured it would be similar to sally’s -- very here and there with hardly any grammar, punctuation, and horrendous spelling. yet nick’s journals though brief, are quite linguistic. a pleasant surprise.

but without further ado, my metas are under the cut! a very long read so i hope you enjoy it. i tried my best to divide it into some sort of organization as i could. <3

GENERAL LORE :

ever wondered what an original joy bottle looks like? well, nick has one.

it’s tucked in the far back in his kitchen, behind a light on his shelf. initially i thought it was some random drug and it was more proof of the dlc being pre-game. but if you look closer, the words underneath wellington wells’ emblem say  “EVERY DAY, JOIN THE FUN”  which is a clear indication of what it actually was. and beside the emblem, just to the right, if you really squint, it says  “FLAVOR:”  but it’s hidden and you can’t sneak around to the other side. however, considering how old it is, especially from the wear and tear on the sticker, one could probably imagine it being haworth’s own vanilla.

which intrigues me. i wouldn’t doubt that nick was one of the very first people who got the initial batches. virgil dainty found him when he was still a young poet in his teenage years. meaning he probably snatched him when he was around 16. if we play it out like he was 16 when the train came and took all 13 and under, nick would be around 32 during the base game. but i honestly doubt that since the make believes released more singles than albums, and they released the album around the time of strawberry’s release, as inferred by the cover of the album. so for now and to me, nick is somewhere between mid-late 30s.

speaking of joy though, does anyone remember the whole debate about the type of joy nick was taking in the dlc? it wasn’t any type at all. in fact, it was something sally made herself.

“Vibing my guitar always helps me remember things. Like where I put my Sally Specials.”

Those reds and yellows are just another one of the many street drugs that Sally sells to her clients. Probably something like rainbow and the like, but much, much weaker and not as long-lasting. After all, Nick has to take five at one time to black out. Probably at least three of them to feel any sort of a buzz at all.   ( as a side note, it personally makes me wonder if sally had anything to do with the production phlash. i’d love to see if there were any notes of it anywhere. )

I had a headcanon a while back that the woman using the power cell was using a sex toy. After all, she has a suitcase that’s cleverly hidden under her bed. If Nick believes it’s this, it makes sense that he’s aware of the “fun part of town,” unlike Arthur and Ollie once in the Parade. Yes, he goes there for sex and relief, but also because he makes deals with the owners to sell adult-themed merch. Wouldn’t be surprised if there were dildos, lube, even lingerie like Nick’s threads -- very, very plausible if there are full sex dolls.

With the Sally Specials and the Joy Bottle being so old, it could still be proof that it’s pre-game as well. After all, if Nick is still around Sally ONLY to obtain to drugs from her, then it could be easily inferred. After all, Sally remembers her time with Nick in the past together, not in the present. And that is pre-1964.

A LITTLE MORE ABOUT NICKY :

it’s absolutely no secret that nick hates himself. from the scratches on the mirror that hide his face and spell  “USELESS,”  to the inferred suicidal attempts from downing entire bottles of joy with alcohol. the puke is always so rancid in the sink. but there’s also this, too.

it’s funny how nick tends to keep scratching at his head and his eyes. the persona is who he’s trying to cover up i imagine, considering that there are multiple voicelines in the game that says he never meant to cause any harm. and he never meant to commit all the unpleasantries that come with being a rockstar. one of them being infidelity and adultery, and another being a general asshole to the public. overtime i believed that nick gained celebrity syndrome. which is essentially just being a karen on steroids. nick believes he doesn’t need to pay for anything, and he also has the innate ability to give orders to people. just because, in his mind, he’s the best in the world. the avalon’s manager wants to get back at him once and for all for his bossy attitude. but he’s not the only one who feels that, either.

petunia does as well.

nick’s love-life is an extremely complicated one. aside from the the various forms of substance abuse and exposure to said substances, nick has always had his rockstardom become the center of his universe. see, this is all headcanon but, i personally believe that nick was coddled as a child by his overbearing mother. mama told him the world would love him. and mama told him that the world would never hurt him, and that it would be perfect and easy to get through. but then he saw just how hurtful people could be, and just how much hate the world had to offer. and to him, at that. it was extremely difficult to find love in anything and anyone. especially himself. so finding petunia was very, very reassuring. after all, she did promise him, as nick said during the boss fight, to be the lighthouse on all his rocky shores. indicating that she would be the one to lead him back home, and make him stable. and i’m sure for a while, it did.

canonically, until nick lightbearer overtook norbert pickles. he found so many more people who loved him that way. and thus, he let the life of his own stardom take over everything else. including his love life. even more so when the birds threatened hatred and slander to his name if they couldn’t shag him. and if they didn’t manipulate him, nick was so afraid of losing another fan that he wouldn’t care. it felt good anyway, why not fuck people? he keeps a fan, doesn’t worry about being hated, and keeps the life of love toward him going.

not even thinking about petunia in the process. and instead of showing him that he didn’t need all the fans, instead of showing him that he needed to remain faithful and loyal, she lashed out and belittled him from every other corner. though he did deserve it for encouraging her into polygamy and bigamy and definitely by his demanding attitude(later in the note it mentions how he was a henpicker), she did not help his mental state in any capacity. petunia, the moment she didn’t help him anymore and show him the love he thought she promised him, became nothing more than someone who belittled him. truthfully nick never meant to hurt her, but it’s seen through his celebrity ideology that he truly believes in quantity over quality. a sad shame. nick’s mental state is so fucked he doesn’t even really know what true love is by this point. meaning he could potentially be easily manipulated without realization.

despite all this though, i found this to be especially intriguing:

a little hard to read, but this is during the scene before he fights the fans at the contest. his journal reads:

“They think I’m an IMPERSONATOR? Have I lost the Lightbearer aura? How much lower can I sink?”

this heavily implies that nick sets his own idolism over his chances of being a murderer. meaning that somewhere, deep in the crevasse of his subconscious, nick is so desperate for some true love and still can’t grasp hatred that he is clinging onto his persona for as much love as he can. even if it’s fake. thrice as intriguing when one learns that, during his breakdowns, he always explains how he wants his fans to know who he really is:

“i wonder if i remember how to sound polite,” “things are sure to look up once i’m not soaked in hemoglobin.”

an intelligent, young man who was so wrongly brought up into the world by an attached mother who never taught him what punishment really was. nick has been using his celebrity name as a clutch for so long that he’s having difficulty remembering who he really was, or if he can ever be norbert pickles again. he cannot handle being a celebrity, and he never could because of what his mother taught him and grew him to be. yet somewhere deep down, he knows his true self is there. but what nick doesn’t know how to do is accept the hatred of the world enough, especially to him, in order to ever take norbert pickles out.

it’s a constant mish-mash. he can hardly handle the hatred from being a celebrity, but what he does handle from stardom is what keeps him going with it. a war between nick lightbearer and norbert pickles. but neither side has proper ammo because the battlefield is strife with a lack of vegetation.

nick lightbearer in himself is an irony. he shines so bright for everyone around him but yet truly, the light is most needed for himself.

[theharellan]

101 DRAGON AGE QUESTIONS | not accepting

for the sake of reducing the number of ooc posts i’m answering these all in one and just @ing the people who asked the questions! thank you for them all!

if you sent me one of these btw and rbed this meme yourself and i didn’t send you something, please let me know! i want to send you things back and must have missed you reblogging the meme. this includes non-mutuals.

1. How did you get into Dragon Age? | asked by @kaaras-adaar & @dreamerlavellan​

Sort of by accident, actually. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in university (2011) and summertime is generally a time of inactivity and depression because I cannot tolerate the weather here. My dad happened to own Origins and I picked it up because??? Fantasy? RPG?

Starting the game I saw you could play as a dwarf, who have been my favourites in fantasy since a child as The Hobbit is among my favourite books. Then after that I fell in love with the worldbuilding for dwarves and Gorim, my first actual Dragon Age love. I was more or less hooked after that. DA was actually not my first Bioware game, I was obsessed with Jade Empire as a kid so like Origins appealed to me immediately despite being far less fun to play than literally any other Bioware game I’ve ever played. The characters and world more than made up for it.

I beat it relatively quickly and my dad bought Dragon Age II which had come out earlier that day, actually against my suggestion because I’d heard it wasn’t good. And in this instance my dad forgetting something I said turned out for the best because I ended up enjoying DAII more in some respects. While it took me a while to join the fandom as a content producer I was a consumer and certified DA trash from then on.

2. Have you finished all three games? | asked by @kaaras-adaar

Kskjdfs yes. I’ve beaten each at least 4 times, but probably more like 8. The only thing I haven’t played are some of the Origins DLC because as much as I enjoy my replays I am so ready to be out by the end of the game (and I have the worst luck with Awakening bugs) and I also don’t have Sebastians DLC b/c his never goes on sale individually and I refuse to spend more than like $4 on him.

3. How long did it take you to finish the series? | asked by @kaaras-adaar

I honestly don’t know. I think it took me like a week to beat Inquisition without 100%ing it, I’d say my first playthroughs all probably took about that long. I tend not to do everything in my first playthrough. Like shard collecting didn’t happen until round two, etc.

7. Favorite DA:O backstory? | asked by @dreamerlavellan & @fatefaulted

I’ve played through all of them and I enjoy them all except Cousland, but my favourite is Aeducan. I enjoy the politics, the culture, the aesthetic of Orzammar. I love Gorim Saelac and the surprising amount of depth to this character who is designed to be thrown away after the prologue. I love how it ties you to the Darkspawn threat in a bigger way than any of the origins accomplish. I love how it ties you to the Orzammar plot later in the game, and playing Aeducan first is probably one reason why I adore that branch of the game. It’s a good origin that establishes its world really well and has great characters to boot.

11. Share a pic of your favorite OC from any DA game. | asked by @dreamerlavellan

I just want to share pics of my girl and Solas’ future husband.

Ian Lavellan, non-Inquisitor written by @theshirallen

Thora Cadash, dwarven Inquisitor and default Inquisitor for this blog written by... me lmao.

22. Favorite DA2 party combo? | asked by @fatefaulted

My main Hawke is a mage Hawke, so this party is horrendously imbalanced, but: Varric, Merrill, Isabela. They all just like each other and I think that’s neat. Although in act one my favourite is probably Carver, Merrill, Isabela / Varric. Unfortunately the game doesn’t want me to have a warrior in my party.

24. Favorite main-story quest from DA:I? | asked by @kaaras-adaar

It’s hard to pick between In Hushed Whispers and In Your Heart Shall Burn. I love seeing the red lyrium’d companions and the dark future of Thedas, and speculating on what happened in the intervening year. I love reflecting on what it must do for the Inquisitor to see that and have it be undone. I think it sets up the rest of the game really well, and in ways Champions of the Just doesn’t do quite as well.

In Your Heart Shall burn is a simpler quest but I think the power and emotions in the quest are so raw. Playing this the first time was riveting and I was on the edge of my seat. The triumph of closing the Breach, the strangeness of your first encounter with Cole (whose appearance at the gates is another reason I prefer IHW tbh, I think it’s more tension building than Dorian’s), Corypheus, crawling through the snow. Capping it off with The Dawn Will Come and the journey to Skyhold idk, it’s just such an emotional high point in the series that every time I replay I get goosebumps.

25. Favorite DA:I place? | asked by @fatefaulted

It’s a tie between the Frostback Basin and the Emerald Graves. I love the lore in both, as elf trash I prefer the lore in the graves especially if I can include the Din’an Hanin into that category. But the Avvar lore and Ameridan is also Very Good, and while I adore the giant trees of the graves the Frostback Basin clearly was able to have more resources poured into its design, and as a result the different sections of the map have so much more character.

A close runner-up is the Hinterlands, as I think the quests there are fun and it feels like home. I enjoy returning to it. Which is good, b/c I’ve played through it... a lot... I think loving it might be a coping mechanism, but also I love the vibe of the early game that’s best captured in the Hinterlands.

32. Favorite DLC mission overall? | asked by @fatefaulted

Trespasser is up there with Shivering Isles as my favourite DLC ever produced. Its hits every emotional beat I think it needed to hit, set up the next game with greater detail and intrigue than the initial epilogue, and I’m honestly dying to get to replay it again on Thora despite what it does to my nerves. The first time I played it I could feel my heart beating faster like wtf me.

37. Blood magic: yes or no? | asked by @hopewrought​

Would I use it myself? No. Morally I think it can be reprehensible but also neutral, much like any other magic in the game. In certain characters I think even if used for good it may encourage unhealthy habits, but I think it can be learned to be engaged with in better ways.

59. Who was written really poorly? | asked by @theshirallen you can’t hide behind anon I know it was you

Oghren fucking Kondrat. When I think about the reasons Origins is my least favourite game he is among them. With Oghren there was a really good chance to portray an alcoholic abuse victim, suffering from severe mental health issues, and still mourning his wife, with the respect it deserves. Instead he just... is a gross sexist dwarf and his alcoholism is mostly played for jokes. And then he comes back in Awakening and... continues to be a gross sexist dwarf whose alcoholism is mostly played for jokes.

There could have been some really interesting stuff with Oghren, the Warrior caste of dwarves I think would suffer from issues similar to qunari warriors, where when they can no longer fill the purpose society has dictated they must serve, what then? They can’t do anything but fight. There could be comradery with Sten, or perhaps Zevran or Alistair, or any of the companions who have had the path their lives took dictated to them by societal forces they had no say in (even if they are happy with that direction). There are snippets of good stuff in here, the line “let us show them our hearts, Warden, and then show them theirs” is one of the best of the good-byes the game offers us imo. It’s a shame about what came before.

Like there are other characters, such as Sera, who I think were done dirty by their writers, but Sera at least got some growth in the DLC and there were attempts to address criticism of her character. Oghren in Awakening was just kind of a take two of an already poorly-done arc.

60. Who do you wish had been given more story? | asked by @hopewrought​

I wish Briala had more, like that she had some impact on the story in universes where Gaspard isn’t crowned with her as his puppetmaster. She and the elves reappears in that but not if you reunite her with Celene or exile her, and I think it would’ve been neat. I also wish she’d had a chance to interact with Solas in some small way given how many parallels were drawn by one of his own agents during Masked Empire.

I also wish we had more about dwarves in general in 2 and Inquisition. We get some great lore in Inquisition that was set up in 2, but with our only dwarf companion being Varric, who honestly has a relationship with his race that at times is comparable to Sera’s, it pulls a few of its punches. I really think they have dwarves set up to be important players in the next game, with their architecture featuring heavily in the dev diary, buuut no dwarves to be seen. So who knows. Just give me dwarves in the next game who aren’t Varric Bioware pls. Let me kiss one maybe.

61. Favorite NPC? | asked by @kaaras-adaar​

I’m not going to count advisors even though they kinda are NPCs and I’m going to answer one for each game so uhh...

Origins - Anora

DA2 - Feynriel

DA:I - Krem

Bonus - Lord Woolsley, the only unproblematic DA character

63. Best story moment? | asked by @ghilannainguideme

It’s a tie between the journey to Skyhold and the talk with Solas at the end of Trespasser and the resulting disbanding of the Inquisition (if you so choose). I really can’t separate them because I think the reason Trespasser works so well is how it calls back to the very beginning of Inquisition and that moment with Solas in the snow. It’s triumphant and sad, something’s ending, the fellowship is breaking, but you know all of you will continue to work towards a better world apart.

In DA:O I think it’d be saying good-bye before the final battle and in DA2 I think the moment where you can tell the Arishok he was right to take in the elves who killed that guardmen is good. Probably one of the reasons why I think Hawke-Arishok work so well as a protagonist-antagonist combination.

81. Favorite fanfic? | asked by @ghilannainguideme​

I don’t read a lot of fanfic, actually. Save what I read on here, which I do count, but idk if other people do.

My favourite writers to read are @theshirallen​, obviously. Joly wants to tweakIan’s personal quest but I think the version they have written now is still very good and you can find it here. I love reading Peace’s stuff and find their smut especially spicy in the best possible way, you can find a Merrill/f!Mahariel piece here! Gaia doesn’t write on Tumblr much these days, but she wrote a wonderful Tug/Sketch (the companions from Leliana’s Song) that you can find here.

I follow so many talented writers and I can’t list them all but here are a few I can fire off real fast: @theshirallen / @ghilannainguideme / @seahaloed / @sabraelin / @valorcorrupt / @mercysought / @hopewrought / @ofrevas / @skyheld have all moved me with their words at some point, be it in fic or rp.

82. Favorite fanart/fanartist? | asked by @ghilannainguideme

Again I just can’t choose jsdfks.

The easiest way is to just link my Solas fanart tag. Obviously this favours Solas artists, however, so also here’s a link to thedaswlw where there’s a boatload of amazing fanart all of wlw.

Of people I’m mutuals with I know @abracafockyou, @kaaras-adaar, @dalathin (currently inactive but I gotta link them), and @syntharts​ are all very talented artists.  I’m also a big fan of destinyapostacy, nipuni, elbenherzart, starscollected (on twitter), and many more.

97. What’s your favorite DA mod? | asked by @ghilannainguideme​ & @hopewrought​

I’ll chose one as many as I want to apparently from each game again, b/c why not?

DA:O - I have to admit I find this game hard to mod because nothing can really salvage the gameplay or look of the game. I need Better Dwarf Model so I don’t have to look at the odd dwarf proportions in the game (the women have arms for days). Mostly I have armour mods. I like Grey Wardens of Ferelden so I can match Alistair in the final batte and have everyone in uniforms in Awakening. I do like Kirkwall Exports because I can put Zevran in the robes of the notorious pirate tho. I haven’t used this mod yet but I also love this mod I retweeted this morning.

DA2 - Again, I don’t mod 2 very much. You could probably make some kind of chart for correlating my enjoyment of a game versus my urge to mod it, with the more I love a game means I want to mod it more. With 2 I enjoy the combat and overall design of the characters more so I mostly use a couple of tweaks, my favourite is Ishs Scarf for Merrill which just adds a cute blue scarf to Merrill and hides the fact that elves in this game have weirdly long necks. Oh and a mod to fix the weird hand dirt.

DA:I - Equal Opportunity Solas mod, I bought the game again on PC just to use it. Being able to play Solas/Ian for screencaps was everything tbh. Other mods I enjoy are More Banter, which while I have better luck with banter it is nice to be able to count on it. I installed it this latest pt and I have heard location comments that have never triggered before. Black Hair for Everyone has changed my life because finally Thora doesn’t have grey hair. No Dirt Buildup is also amazing, as the dirt can cause some really weird blotting on PCs that’s especially noticeable on dark-skinned Inquisitors.

99. Where would you live (Ferelden, Orlais, Free Marches etc?) | asked by @heysales​​

Probably Ferelden. It is fantasy England and hey if I make it past Inquisition maybe nothing will ever happen there again. Somewhere in the Free Marches might also be chill. Not Kirkwall. Maybe Starkhaven? Honestly tho I just want to live in the Frostback Basin. Have a spirit friend. Shake hands with nugs.

101. If you could meet your Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor, what would you say? | asked by @dreamerlavellan​

If I met Thora I’d tell her I’m proud of her. She’d be confused, but that’s ok.

[homestuckcontroversyin2020]

My Opinions on The Epilogues

So I expect that this isn’t going to go over too well, whether it be because I get absolutely zero attention on this post, or for the fact that I’m literally typing up what is probably a hate post that’ll spark up some, “Oh fuck you.” comments. Either way, I don’t really care about the possible hate to be garnered or anything. I’m here to state my opinion on this, and opinions can’t kill anyone when you’re as weak at arguing as I myself am. Now, this isn’t a fucking logical article, I’m not taking time with comprehensive research and making sure I fact check every little detail because that would involve reading Homestuck for and eighth time and re-reading the Epilogues so I have the biggest refresher in the world. I’m not doing that, so take my sub-par rambles.

Preface over, let’s get into the meat.

My original thought when I heard that the Epilogues came out was initially an eye roll big enough to be like when Hulk smashed Loki in the ground. An arch of, “What the fuck, Hussie.” In other words? I didn’t want to read them. I spent the first few days in agony, complaining about how Homestuck was probably just becoming a money grab, and hearing from other people about the content that  came out.

It.. wasn’t as bad as I expected when I jumped into it. People made a bigger deal about them than I thought was even insanely possible. Let me get this out of the way. I don’t hate the Epilogues. Do I think they were poorly done? Yes. Do I think that the writing was subpar? Absolutely. Do I think that fourteen year olds in their bedroom typing away at shitty fanfiction or roleplaying smut on MxRP/MSPARP have a better grasp on the characterization of each individual character than the people who took over and wrote the Epilogues? 10000%. Still, I thought they were a clever addition to alternate timelines. I had heard from a source they were meant to be a satirical take on fanfiction, and was a mocking poke at the Homestuck community... until Beyond Canon came out.

So here we are now with an 18 year old who’s spent their time on this planet obsessing over Homestuck since before they could read cuss words without feeling embarrassed telling you about how they’re pissed off with some small things that are of no value.

I’m an Alpha Kid Stan(TM) so everything that happened to my sweet babies has made me want to blow my brains out over the walls. Let’s go down the line.

Jane, sweetheart? Who hurt you? Now, I’ll be honest, I rushed through the Epilogues in my, ‘fuck I don’t want to read this but I feel like I need to in order to satiate my burning curiosity.’ mode. Jane’s whole... situation seems really fucked up to me. The color of her text in the EPs is another thing that pissed me off beyond belief, and I’m not sure why. The consistency between comic and canon was draining on my nerves. Jane, in Homestuck, is a whiny teen, but in no way do I look at her and see racist Hitler. Also, what the fuck was up with the clown thing? Why did she have an obsession with fucking Jake? Sure, she was into him before, but wasn’t part of her character arch getting over the buck toothed bangaroo? I thought so. I also thought that Jane was, you know, just a normal girl living her best life. She sure complained, but who doesn’t?? The Jane we’re given in the Epilogues seems to lack the internal dilemmas that the dear, sweet Crocker we’ve grown fond of does. There’s barely a hit of self hate, she doesn’t blow up, and sure we could possibly count this to her being older, but, what? She didn’t seem to be pissed off about the entire existence of trolls in Homestuck. Sure, her time with them was minimal and she didn’t really get all the shit through, but she fought side by side with Kanaya, even. I just don’t see it at all.

Jake. Oh boy. This is a big one. In either case, Jake’s whole thing really bothers me. He doesn’t seem like Jake. He seems like a watered down version of himself that doesn’t even make fucking sense? He’s an aloof dork, but he’s not horrendously stupid, there’s no reason to make him an alcoholic, and why the fuck is he an attention seeking slut? Yes, yes. We could blame this all on Dirk but really, what were the authors thinking? They had complete control over what happens in this and they turn Jake into something he’s not. He had other drives and passions than living out his life as the sexy action movie woman we all need in our lives. Jake’s smart to his own degree, stubborn, and kind of a flirt! He’s not insanely oblivious, either. For instance, I recall a specific moment where he insinuates that Jane was having a wet dream about him in Homestuck. I’m not going to find the quote, but I know it’s there. Jake spent time working on the robot rabbit for John with Jade and outright refused help from some outside sources. Jake is smart! He’s got an extensive vocabulary! He’s just a nerd, and he’s more than an uwu gay boy for Mr. Triangles.

Roxy, oh no. This is where I expect to get the most heat. Roxy is a beloved character. The light of my life and the best of the kids, in my opinion. (I’m an avid Dirk Stan, but Roxy has won my heart truly and thoroughly.) I don’t like the whole trans/non-binary thing. Not because I’m transphobic or anything, because I’m absolutely not. It’s because it feels like it just doesn’t fit with her as a character?? Roxy grew up in isolation in a place without humans, you really think she’s going to have an outright conceptualized view on gender roles and norms? Basic fucking psychology would tell you otherwise. This is something that her brain would have trained her to do based on a societal view. I may not have paid a huge ass amount of attention in psychology, but gender is a thing that’s completely up in the air and taught to us. Roxy didn’t have that. You could argue and say that her house has something of the sort that’d lead her to feel that way, or perhaps she’s learned this all off the internet, but her clothes scream femme and she had to make them herself, is all I’m saying. Again, whatever, go off, make Roxy trans. It’s not a huge deal, but that isn’t the only problem I have. Roxy as a character seems to have just lost her spark. There’s little outright love and enjoyment and adoration for her friends that there is in Homestuck. She’s not your hype go get them loving girl. Again, maybe you could blame this on the fact that they’re all older, but getting older isn’t going to drastically impede your previous personality and make you an entirely different person. They essentially turned Roxy into a watered down version of Dave, but trans. It’s like they couldn’t make Dave trans so they just made a new Dave. It’s annoying to me, and that’s my biggest problem. I love Roxy. I don’t care for Epilogue Roxy. If they had done it right, if they had used specific things from Homestuck, if Homestuck itself keyed in on this or ANYTHING, fine. But Roxy was old enough to question her identity, most people do around 16, and she could have had the opportunity to start representing this already. I mean, who was stopping her? Then the baby stuff. Huh? What? Why? Doesn’t make sense, pass. Her bffsy, brother, and person that cared about her most off and yeets himself from the top of the nearest belltower and all she can think about is copulating with John??? Alright, fam.

Onto Dirk. Y’know what? I don’t have many huge problems with Dirk. I found his personality in Meat really funny, I found the death in Candy absolutely soul crushing. Dirk is a good character. I don’t think they did his personality well, but I don’t think they did any of the characters well. Maybe John. Maybe. Dirk really just sounded like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted, and it was amusing to say the least. He sounded horrible from the way people talked about him before I read it, but I really just found his overzealous ego entertaining. I found the fact that they made him still totally desperate for Jake kind of annoying though. Dirk broke of their relationship. Dirk was the one who took a moment to realize it wasn’t healthy for either of them, and getting what you want isn’t good. Taking over the narrative and making your ex nearly jizz himself in public is hilarious and all, but also, what??

Alright. Alphas. Let’s move onto Betas.

I skipped a lot of it, not going to lie. Rather than breaking it down for each character like I did with the Alphas, I’m just going to ramble and see where the wind takes. me.

I don’t ship Davekat. I don’t see it working in a romantic aspect. I see them being bros, and it felt really forced in both sides of the story. The homoerotic tension could maybe be smelled for a mile away, but lets not forget something very important. Dave has shown interest in women. Dave was interested in Terezi, he called Roxy and Jane hot, he totally fucking jizzed his jeans for Jade. The fact that so many characters in the Epilogues were exclaiming that Dave was gay, and Dave himself leaning towards the sentiment, didn’t seem to really match up. Dave’s not just pretending to like chicks either, he’s definitely interested in them to the point of being genuinely flustered and embarrassed (I.E The Hot Mom conversation.) So, I don’t really enjoy that. I think the economy shit is cute, his alternate counterpart seemed to have a good hand for business according to the spiel that was made about him, I liked it.

Rose? Didn’t pay a lot of attention to her. The drug abuse shit really pissed me off. Rose in general really pissed me off in the Epilogues. 

John is a can of worms. His characterization was done well, but I guess I just don’t see the point in the two timeline deals. Also, why did he have sex with Terezi? Why was he so much of a baby when the rest of the people around him apparently seemed to mature? Who knows. I sure as hell don’t.

And... then there’s Jade. Poor, sweet Jade. She’s been done dirty almost as much as Jake has, if not worse. She has a dick for one. Yikes. She’s extremely sexually driven, which isn’t something I can see for canon Jade who just wants to hang out and vibe. She’s also so fucking insistent with the “uwu lets date Dave and Karkat” shit that it drives me up a fucking wall. Jade, you should know better! You dated an alternate version of Dave! You dated the OG motherfucker fresh timeline bitch who lost everyone, and sure he was depressed, but I think if I remember correctly you know about all of this???? Hmmmmm!!!! Big questions. It almost leads one to believe she’d know better than to enter into a relationship like this with Dave since it could be emotionally unfulfilling. :))))

Anyways, this entire thing is a can of fucking worms and I don’t suspect I’m going to use this account often aside from shitposting, so have this one uneducated article and if you made it through it and agree, disagree, or what have you, don’t be an ass in the replies? I get it, I’m opinionated and should probably shut my mouth, but it’s the internet and I don’t really care at this point.

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 19

The newby fighters thankfully handled media horrendously, answering questions in choppy six or seven word responses. Sure, it limited the material and made the story vulnerable to the writers embellishing devices, but the speedy conclusion of the often clock-stopping, boring event was never one complained about amongst the journalistic world.

When I stepped outside in pursuit of the strangely near empty bar, I pulled the sleeves of my blazer off and draped it over my forearm, sliding my clutch between my bicep and ribcage. The crisp, white silk of the tank top swayed with the calm, cool breeze of the nighttime air, mixing with my nervously sweating skin, creating an array of chill bumps over my flesh. An exiting patron held the door open as I swept inside the dimly lit sports bar. There weren’t many tables, only 3 tv’s, and no blasting music. Hence the lack of customers, I’m sure. Colton was easy to spot, hunching at a high-top near the glass front of the building. He hadn’t ordered a drink yet, once again, trying desperately to execute that military like, gentlemanly manner his father Michael, had instilled in him, presumably. I dropped the weight of my tired body in the un-cushioned wooden seat, and huffed aloud in the relief. “That didn’t take too long,” he stated first.

“Those two were complete media virgins. They didn’t have much to say.” I confirmed as I massaged in the sanitizer I applied to my palms, and scanned over the sparse clients.  

“Want me to grab you a drink or somethin’? I didn’t know if you were still a martini girl, so I held off.” Had his accent become thicker with his hair?

“Actually, I’ll just take a seltzer. Lime on the side too, please.” Tia would probably be able to sniff out the scent of alcohol in my sweat like a hungry hound dog, and have my tail for drinking while training.

She had graciously granted me a pass on my birthday, so I didn’t see it wise to push my luck any further. Come to think of it though, when in the actual hell had I become the girl to drink seltzer water and lime?

My ex now turned waiter for the moment returned with a small square tumbler filled with fizzy, clear liquid, and a long neck in his other hand. His black shirt painted over the ripples of his back, the muscles there moved like thickened water down the spread of him. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he shops for himself. I can only imagine his decision-making unraveling something like, “yeah, black t-shirt. I can always use another black t-shirt.”

“Thank you,” I said between lengthy sips. “And thanks too for, um… the flowers. They were stunning. You really didn’t have to, but it was a sweet gesture, Colton.”

“So I did okay, huh? They’re your favorite?” He hoped with questioning eyes, taking a quick pull of his sweating beer.

“Yes, Colt. They’re my favorite. You did well. Extremely well.”

“I owe you another 50 dozen more, Liv….”

Here is comes. The conversation was about to take a dicey dive into the abyss.

“It’s not flowers I need, Colton. I think you know a million dollars’ worth of pretty bouquets won’t fix, this.” I drew an invisible line through the space from me, to him, “It’s not gonna fix us. Or, whatever us there was, I guess.”

He sat his half empty beverage on the scuffed table tap, and I noticed the glass chatter against the surface. He was shaking. This wasn’t the angry, poked bear shaking though. This was the abused, cowering, wounded bird shaking.

“Yeah, Liv. I get that, okay? I just didn’t know where to fuckin’ start, ya’ know? I didn’t wanna get too pushy..” he began, while drawing nervous figure-eights with his callused finger tips along the cracks in the table top.  “But, I gotta know. I ain’t tryna put you on the spot or nothin’, but is there any fixing it, babe? I have no right to asking you this shit, I realize that. But, just give me somethin’ here, Liv. Should I just write us off?”

The million dollar question. How was I supposed to give him the answer his desperate eyes so anxiously desired, when I didn’t have it myself? I loved Colton Ritter, no matter how blindly I wanted the fact to be untrue, there was no refuting it. But, I couldn’t shake the reluctancy I felt towards him either. That apprehensive, yet yearning brew filling up my gut. The next words I spoke to him would be the defining moment of what my future held, so I hesitated. Taking as long as I needed to sort through the perfect retort.

“You act like that’s such a simple question to answer, Colt. You have no idea what you did to me for Christ sakes,” my fist gently, but effectively smacked the table, clinking the glass beverages there. I refrained from chewing his hide in nagging anger, but I wasn’t about to hold back on what I truly needed to say. “I was a literal basket case. As damn foolish and weak as that may sound, it’s a fact. I missed work, I made myself sick from the unrelenting crying. Like, seriously, there was actual vomit, Colton. I wore your fuckin clothes around the apartment like a lost mutt!” I could see him tense entirely, almost wincing aloud in shame and heartache. And I half wondered if maybe he’d done some of his own shameful grieving during our time apart. “Every day for nearly a year felt like one big, constant punch to my gut, making it almost hard to even catch a decent breath. I’ve been better for a while now, but every single day, your stupid, smug face finds its way into my head….” I allowed myself a pause to try and extinguish the burning tears I knew were about to come loose, but there was no use. Once the first fell, I just opened the watery dam. “If I’m being honest, part of my really just hates you. A big chunk of me, as a matter of fact. But I know the love is still there, as much as the hate. Probably more,” snubbing through my tearful fit. “I don’t think I’m ready right this minute, Colton. For us, I mean. I think I might be at some point, but who’s to say… I can’t name the day and time. So, if that isn’t enough for you, and you feel like I’m a waste of your time, then yes, you should just move on.”  

Th brawniest, hard as stone man I’d ever known, raised a hand to wipe dry his weepy eyes. It wasn’t a hysterical, sobbing outburst, and an actual tear may not have fallen free, but they were there. The glazy sheen over his blue toned eyes tonight gave him away. He blew out the breath he’d apparently been holding in before his mustered the composure to speak back.

“I’m on your time, Livvy, alright? I’ll just stay outta your way, and if ya’ want me, you know I’m here. I fucked up. Royally, to say the least. There is so much I wanna say, and I hope you gimme the chance to piece it all together for you someday in the near future. I’m sorry seems to be the most important thing right now. And I’m gonna say it every day I have the chance. I’ll hang back as best I can, okay? And if someone else so happens to come along, for either of us, then I guess that’s that, huh?” He reached forth his hand to graze as gently as a summer breeze over my resting fingers, a current of G-force energy rattled through my every internal organ. I didn’t jerk away from his touch this time, instead allowing myself the loving awakening I had longed for the past days without him. He’d be the death of me, whether it be in happiness or misery, I wasn’t sure.

“I think that sounds like the best way to handle it, Ritter. I can work with that,” I sheepishly smiled, curling an auburn strand behind my ear. “Now, I better get home and get some sleep.” Picking my clutch up first, then swallowing the last mouthful of my drink, I stretched my petite legs searching for the ground below me. Before I could drop on my heels, he had swiftly came to my side, offering his hand out to steady my drop from the heighted stool. The man was so full of these sickeningly, syrupy sweet courtly gestures, and I might as well have been licking the plate.

“Let me walk you to the car this time. Please?” he almost begged holding my jacket open for me to slide my arms in.

“How about I walk you to your bike, and we’ll call it a night.” It wasn’t a question. I wanted to seem as independent as I could to him, while also establishing again that I’d be okay without him if things didn’t pan out with our relationship.

I went out on a wobbly whim and locked my arm through the empty crease in his elbow, while his hand was snuggled deep into his jean pockets, and out of a side eyed glance, and detected a half smile on his lips. “My bike is right here on the corner. Is you car close?”

“Close enough. Don’t you worry about me, kid,” I winked before breaking my clutch on his arm as we reached his black bike parked by a ticking meter.

“Hey listen, Liv. I’m thinking about sticking with Temple Fitness. Y’know like, staring up a membership to train there and stuff. But if you’re not good with it, then I’m out.” He remarked strapping his helmet around his bearded, calico chin.

“I think I can handle it, Colton. Just stay outta my way, big guy..” it was clear by the playfulness of my high pitched, girl giggly that I was testing the waters with some flirty banter. The saluted “yes, boss” he tossed back told me he was aware of my joking tone. When I took a couple slow paces in exit, bidding him a goodnight, he met my steps, and leaned in for a hopeful kiss to my pert cheek. \

“Not yet, Colt. Not yet, okay?” The dangerously close presence of his lips to me could’ve shot me a million feet in the air above us. But, I had to keep the line drawn, for now anyways. He wasn’t out to the woods yet.

When I gave him my back in search of my own car down the sidewalk, he yelled my name, muffled through the visor of his helmet.

“Hey 2-1!” I turned slightly, never ceasing my footsteps, careful not to lose my balance while walking backwards in my strappy shoes. “You look better than ever, babe. And I’ll happily take my punishment for sayin’ it.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, and I curled my lips up with brows raised in disbelief, yet satisfying pleasure, winking with no words, and went on my merry way. I heard his bike fire up with an almost lion like roar, and he sped off in the opposite direction. Revving his accelerator, no doubt in teenage like, hormonal ego.

 The next morning, all too bright, and much too early I entered the office hanging my sleepy head, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events the previous evening. Through groggy rasps, I served my morning hellos to passing co-workers, determined to reach the noiseless four walls of my office and downing the contents of my Styrofoam cup. If I timed it just right, I thought maybe I could even sneak a 30-minute powernap sometime around the 10 o’clock hour. When I crossed the concierge desk, Layla, the awkward, mousy receptionist waved a hand to halt me.

“This package came to you this morning, Ms. Elliott.” The box rectangular box, wrapped in wrinkled brown paper had apparently been delivered early morning to the office.

I thanked Layla the messenger, and stepped over the threshold of the empty elevator. The package was unmarked, only adding to the quizzical allure, but I held my eager hands from slashing through the wrapping until I got into my private office. I blindly flipped on the single light switch, my purse thudding onto the neatly organized desktop calendar. I ripped the first corner of the box opened before I was even sat into the swivel seat, when a small folded sheet of paper fell into the floor.

Livvy,

Thought you may need this. The other one seemed little ratty. I think I cut it just how you like them. There’s plenty more where this came from.

Love,

Colt

I dropped the lid of the package, peeling back a translucent layer of tissue paper to find a white, slightly dingy colored Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt. One I very much recognized as belonging to the gift giver himself. A weak smile had instantaneously crept across my face as I ran a thumb over the fading of the smooth polyester blend. I pondered, and settled on a decision in that second, that I was going to unapologetically relish the games he’d be willingly to play to win back my affection. I wasn’t wholeheartedly dreadful though, and I knew sending him thanks for the thoughtful efforts was the right thing to do, so I sent him a text to extend some reserved gratitude. Giving him the impression I was appreciative, but wasn’t eating out of his veiny hands just yet.

Tia was distant as of recent. Cold as a sparkling Pittsburgh frost before dawn. The conversation we had about my exchanges with Colt weren’t half as pleasant, and supportive as my phone call with Sara. Tia hated the man, not saying I blamed her. No matter what he said, or didn’t say, the gifts he gave, or the groveling that arose, she wasn’t forgetting the past. Colton Ritter was blacklisted indefinitely in her book. So much so, I even had to gulp down concerns that fizzled for my own friendship with her.

Climbing the steel steps of the cage with her was never too terribly intimidating before that night. I always knew no matter how repetitive she’d  be with her promising that she wouldn’t take it easy on me, I could always sense the restraint of her moves. Yet again, before that night… The trifling stomps of her bare feet across the mat would’ve signaled danger, if the haughty shove passed my shoulder hadn’t already. “Chew that rubber, Elliott,” she yelled unkindly, instructing me to hurry with my mouth piece so we could get the session underway.

She was bouncing upward, shoving her knees into her chest, stretching to shatter my thighs with one of her categorical back kicks. Willow was crouched in the floor beside the metal confines, arms crossed about her chest in curious observation, Tia’s harshness not unnoticed by her and the onlookers in the workout room. We danced the usual mirrored waltz across the octagon from each other, each waiting for someone to stretch forth searching for the first connecting jab. Before my mind had a single minute to strategize an assault, Tia lunged lowly to bearhug my legs right from beneath my own body, and my elbows nearly ricocheted off the canvas floor. The sweat of my attacker was already profusely flowing, more so from the rumbling anger, and probable resentment she was feeling for the likes of me. We wormed around on the patched ground, she grabbing a lock around my legs, me tugging on her extended forearm. Amongst our grunts, and gasps of pain, a very confused and scratchy voice sung out above all else.  

“The fuck? Liv?”

My eyes beckoned toward Colton’s wide stance next to Willow, but Tia didn’t let up. The more I fidgeted for release, the tighter she wound her meager form around me. When the match between us didn’t halt, I heard his intrusions slice the room again.

“LIV!” But this time, it wasn’t a questioning tone. He was demanding acknowledgment, and more importantly an explanation.

My “friendly” opponent loosened her vice, and I lunged a swift, fumbly kick to shake her off. If my face wasn’t already reddened from the efforts of the spar, it sure would’ve been painted with  a bright shade when I stood to see the concerned contortions of his always tempting mouth. With his hands raised in dumbfounding confusion awaiting his answer, I rushed towards the cage door to meet him in the corner he was heading to.

“THIS is what you’ve been doing here, Livvy? What the hell?” He was lazily scratching a hand through the brown of his beard.

“Not that it’s a single ounce of your business, Colt, but yes. Started a few months back, Tia suggested it.” My feet firm and solid under his disapproving stares.

“Oh, c’mon Liv. I don’t mean to sound like a bossy prick about it, ok? It’s your life, you can do what ya’ want with it. It just… I dunno.. scares me, I guess…” I turned to notice his restless hands, squirming in fists at his side, and his teeth visibly grinding behind closed chops. “I hate myself for hurting you. How did ya’ think I was gonna take to seeing someone smash a fist to those pretty cheeks, babe?”

My gloved fingers didn’t hesitate to seek out his own, stilling his concerns. I intertwined our digits, and I swear I felt the life creep back into me.  His eyes closed under feathery lashes, and there was no denying the husky exhalation that purred from him at our connecting flesh.

“I’m not some.. some weak kitten, Colt. I know you think I’m just a lowly damsel who needs a constant eye watching over her, but, that’s not the case.”

Although maybe very “me: Tarzan, you: Jane” to the outsiders perspective, Colton was very… well, male. He considered his place as my partner to be one of the valiant knight, shielding me from any oncoming harm. My humble opinion? It was all part of his blue collar, endearing charm. But, he’d have to reel it in on the aspect of my fight training.

“It’s not that I think ya’ need it 24-hour surveillance, kid. As a matter of fact, I think it’s just a shot to my ego that you don’t need it, ya’ know. I just wanna protect ya’, alright? Damn it, you’re always makin’ me… makin’ me talk so much, 2-1.” He enfolded my small hand tighter under his grip.

“I appreciate that. My very own lethal prrotector, huh?” I winked and wet my bottom lip catching his eye. “Ask Tia though, I hold my own with these gloves, big shot. Be careful, or you may have to find out first hand.”

Cool it, hormones. You might as well just jump his bones right here.

The flirtation went crawling like a cold shutter obviously over his roasting skin, and his eyes were swirling through shades of blue. “I would happily take that beating, sweetheart!”

Walk away. Now. Go liv, you’re drooling.

“I gotta get back to her though, or I’m gonna pay the price. See ya’ around?” I was securing the gloves assuredly, ready to bid riddance to him before his animal senses detected my feminine excitement, and he held me back.

“I’ll be around, yeah. Oh, hey girl! Nice shirt, by the way..” I went for a drink of my room temperature sports drink and nearly gagged on it. No way he couldn’t notice I was sporting the package he’d delivered a few short hours ago.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[chloe-elizabeth-price]

0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 17 18 20 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 37 38 40 41 42 43 and 44

Wow, almost all of them, huh, @annoyinglyuniquebread? I’ll put it under a read-more as to not hit everyone with walls of text but read if ya feel like it…Okay, here we go!

0. Height 

I’m 5′1 just like Carrie Fisher/Princess Leia!

1. Age

I’m 21, but my birthday is in February so pretty soon I’ll be feelin’ 22! *Dances horrendously*

2. Shoe Size

 I’m a 5 in US sizes I think…?

3. Do you smoke?

I do not

4. Do you drink?

Well yes, it’s important to stay hydrated kids, my drink of choice is coke or tea…But I assume this is asking if I drink alcohol which I do not do

5. Do you take drugs?

Once again I assume this is referring to illegal drugs and not meds, I do not do any of those. However I do take antidepressants and sleeping pills for my anxiety-related insomnia/the occasional anxiety-suppressor.

6. Age you get mistaken for?

As I’m pretty short and thin (+ you tend to look smaller in a wheelchair which i occasionally use) I’d say people tend to assume I’m a lot younger than I am. If asked my age most people tend to guess around 15, or at least they did when I was in my late teens, no one has guessed my age in a while so maybe i look older these days? idk lol

7. Have tattoos?

I do have a tiny lightening bolt on my wrist, it’s a Harry Potter reference/a symbol for my general love of stories.

8: Want any tattoos?

I do definitely want more tattoos in the future, I haven’t really decided on placements yet but I know that I want a Buffy-B (a B in the Btvs-font) on my other wrist so that my two fandom tattoos can match in placements. I also want a fox somewhere and “fearless” in Taylor Swift’s handwriting to remind me of her brilliant definition of the word: (”To me, fearless is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. fearless is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.”)   which I think will help with my anxiety. Those are a few of the tattoos I know that I want to get at some point, but there’s always room for more options since I really like the idea of a lot of tattoos!

9: Got any piercings?

Nope, not even pierced ears

10: Want any piercings?

Not really, no

11: Best friend?

@gay-grandma

12: Relationship status?

Single, sapphic and sad

13: Biggest turn ons?

As far as personality and little things go I’d say people who listen and respect my opinions and my view of a situation, but also aren’t afraid to say what they think/voice their opinions I guess. Also like, when people are genuine with their affection and you can tell that they just genuinely care for you I guess? Geez this sounds cheesy! As for physically, I’m gonna say collarbones…Is that weird? I feel like that’s weird…Not necessarily seeing collar bones (malnutrition isn’t sexy, kids!) but just like biting or kissing them I don’t even know! Maybe I have a few kinks too, but this is already officially TMI and I’m gonna stop………..   

14: Biggest turn offs?

Bigoted or small-minded people honestly, nope not gonna interact!

16: I’ll love you if…

You respect me, seduce me with your nerdiness and/or let me introduce you to nerdy stuff (Movies/shows/books/games etc) I like and most importantly, genuinely seem to like me tbh, I don’t ask for much…

17: Someone you miss

I live pretty far away from my family for school so I find myself almost constantly missing them and my dog :( Also you and your stupidly pretty face, @annoyinglyuniquebread I can’t believe it’s gonna be so long until I get to see you!

18: Most traumatic experience?

Probably something emotionally abusive at the hands of my biological dad or his wife but honestly I’ve repressed most of it and I don’t really wanna talk about that sooooo………*shudders* Anywayyyy

20: What I hate most about myself?

Too many things to list to be honest. I’m not trying to sound negative, but I do have a lot of issues when it comes to how I view myself, but I am working on them and am hoping to be getting to a place where I can honestly say that I don’t think I suck in the near future, wish me luck!

22: What I want to be when I get older?

Author! I wanna write, write write! If ONE kid picks up a book I’ve written and it helps them in any way at all or sparks that love of stories in them that has become my own driving force, then my goal in life has been achieved!

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

Okay, so I have 4 siblings, two older sisters and two younger brothers. My relationship to my sisters are pretty much your standard sibling-situation, we grew up together and occasionally we wanted to murder each other, but most of the time we got along and now as adults we’re all pretty close even though I live far away. My brothers are a more complicated situation, due to my nonexistent relationship with my biological father I haven’t actually seen my little bros in years, I hope that we’ll be able to have some type of relationship one day, but as long as they live with dad I don’t see that as possible, although I love them and would love to be a proper big sib to them someday!

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

My mom is absolutely one of the most important people in my life, I love spending time with her and she’s the one I go to first if any problem, big or small arises in my life, we’ve always been extremely close and she’s quite simply my best friend. My step-dad (who I tend to refer to as dad most of the time) has been in my life since I was 4 and he’s more of a father to me than my biological dad (who i don’t even view as my ‘dad’ at all) ever was or could ever be. I love him with all my heart, he’s the best and one of the funniest people I know! I’d say generally I’m very, very close to both of my parents and they’re both extremely important to me and here I am getting sappy at 2AM. 

25: My idea of a perfect date

Movie/Show marathon and cuddling with snacks tbh

26: My biggest pet peeves

When the cover/general appearance of a book on my shelf doesn’t match what the rest of the books in that series look like…All my books have to match if they’re part of the same series or I freak the fuck out honestly! That’s really the only pet peeve I can think of at the moment.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

I kinda really like @annoyinglyuniquebread but don’t tell her, it’d just get to her pretty head and she’d probably tease me about it and I’m shy!

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

Wow, has someone told the oversized cheeto running America that he has a giant dead cat on his head yet orrrrr…?

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend?

I can’t think of a specific situation in which I’ve done this just now, but chances are if you’re my friend I’ve probably lied to you and told you I was sick so I wouldn’t have to hang out with you that day, it’s not that I don’t WANNA hang out, I love you I promise…it’s just my very awkward introverted ass not being sure how to tell you that I need to reschedule because my social battery is drained and that I am going to physically explode if I have to be around humans for the next few days, without sounding like a hermit and/or hurting your feelings soooo…Yeah, sorry about that!

30: What I hate the most about work/school?

That it ruins the fun of learning with all those deadlines and gives me performance anxiety about stuff I’d normally be good at/comfortable with doing…

31: What my last text message says?

“Night, I love you

32: What words upset me the most?

Any type of uninformed, ignorant hate speech, when someone is being bigoted in my presence it always makes me feel like I want to scream and/or cry 

33: What words make me feel the best about myself?

When people compliment my hair, clothes or writing it really makes my day every time without fail! Also when people use my chosen name and pronoun it makes me feel like I could take on the whole world on my own and win, so thank you SO much to everyone in my life who make an effort to do that every day!!

34: What I find attractive in women?

Um, everything about them, i mean have you SEEN girls??? I love being a lesbian; ladies, you’re all so beautiful I wanna squeal just thinking about it!

35: What I find attractive in men?

Them being Harrison Ford. If you are male, but not Mr. Ford I’m sorry but I’m simply not attracted to you at all and won’t date you. Sorry men, I don’t make the rules. However, if you’re reading this, Harrison from ca 1980 (why would you be?) hit me up!

37: One of my insecurities?

Too many to list again, but like I said, I am working on that! 

38: My childhood career choice

Author, not much has changed, huh? I’ve actually known what I want to be since I was like 5.

40: Who I wish I could be?

A happier, more secure version of myself…Or you know Han Solo/Veronica Mars/Kim Possible, that works too!

41: Where I want to be right now?

Right at this moment I’m pretty happy here under the covers in my big comfy bed listening to Taylor Swift with my laptop in my lap and answering all these questions. Even though I’m having a pretty bad case of insomnia I feel pretty content, a little hungry tho…Think I’m gonna go make noodles and finish Stranger Things when I’m done answering these! 

42: The last thing I ate

Some salted caramel chocolate a while ago, it was delicious!

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately?

Well I’d be cheating on my wife if I didn’t say Sarah Michelle Gellar, wouldn’t I? Although there are a few other candidates as well…

44: A random fact about anything

Did you guys know that @annoyinglyuniquebread aka Bella is really cute and awesome and great at holding hands? Well, if you didn’t there’s a random fact for ya!

Wow, that sure was a lot of questions, but it was fun to answer them all! Thanks for sending them, Bella

[silentfcknhill]

hey I've seen you reblog stuff about drugs and stuff and I just wanted to ask what narcatics were you into? random and blunt question but just curous. I'm having a hard time lately... drinking but I'm trying to quit with with it now and just started weed. I just feel like it's neve gonna be better, you know? shit I so okay for so long and then it all goes to fucking hell again. I'm sorry for unloading like this....

It’s okay, I hope you don’t mind if I ramble a long-ass answer. I was mainly addicted to drugs that were not traditionally considered addictive physically, just psychologically. My main drugs of choice were weed, acid, mushrooms and occasionally molly. I never had a huge problem with alcohol, as in I didn’t drink often but when I did I went way overboard and would often mix drugs that would make me very ill. Weed was okay for me at first before I went overboard and was spending hundreds a month, and I am not completely anti-weed like some people in NA, but I think there are people who can and can’t handle it mentally. I can’t. If you have mental health issues, especially anxiety (though I’ve seen some people it can help their anxiety), paranoia, dissociation, derealization or hallucinations/problems with reality to begin with, it is like playing with fire. I’m not saying you should panic, everyone has different reactions, but I could never smoke again after the bad acid trips and ego deaths I’ve had. Too many flashbacks. And I got serotonin syndrome a lot. I quit using 17 months ago and I’m still dealing with effects like visual fractals, a new worldview and mood problems. 

For about a year I was suicidal and having panic attacks every day, and I had to work double shifts while crying and vomiting (quiting was not an option because we are too poor and I did not want to be homeless again, especially in that condition). It takes a while for your brain to recover and learn to produce it’s own serotonin after smoking weed every day for two years, so there is a major depression that occurs when you get clean. I lost my appetite for a couple months, and also couldn’t sleep on my own. Drugs were basically my go-to for every minor inconvenience, so learning to be a person again and deal with problems directly was difficult. I became extremely paranoid while detoxing. I also lost all interest in everything, I experienced no joy and only dread, terror and depression. My obsessions such as movies and music were no longer enough to enjoy, I needed to experience them on absurd amounts of psychedelics and meditate on them and see them from weird perspectives to appreciate them. I have started gaining back my appreciation for the little things in life again by now. 

The hardest part for me was coming to terms with the fact that I will never be the same as I was before ever again, and now I just have to adjust. It sucks that I was a teenager while this was happening, and my brain was still developing, so now it became a part of my youth and shaped my personality a lot. But I try to think of it positively, because now I have a new chance to become a better person, I have a fresh start and not many people can have a second chance after fucking up and having no common sense. I am lucky to have not gotten into any legal trouble, though a lot of relationships were destroyed, I really deserved it. I am not trying to self-pity, but it is a fact that I have suffered beyond words and been to hell (I’m not religious but to me hell is a psychological state of torment and existential darkness and lack of reality), but I have also grown as a person and become exponentially more self-aware, empathetic, introspective and accepting of my defects. 

I know exactly what you mean when you say you feel it will never get better. When you’re in darkness it effects your whole perception and sense of reality and colors every area of life. We lose our memory of anything good ever. Kind of like a Dementor from harry Potter has sucked out our soul, which Dementors incidentally were written by JK Rowling as an analogy of her depression (Sorry for random reference, I am a fan of Harry Potter). But we are both still young, well I am and I assume you are as well as I don’t know many elderly people on Tumblr, and time changes things. Time doesn’t heal, but it does give you the opportunity to heal and grow. Nothing will ever magically heal, we will always be addicts, but you will have good days, and some very good days and memories, and those are worth riding through the bad to get to. It is very difficult to keep perspective, but I spent a couple years of my life on drugs. I have 70 years left ahead of me, best case scenario. This is not the end at all. 

I have seen people successfully drink and smoke and not become upset or addicted, but I have Asperger’s and BPD and I was foolish to ignore the sensitivities and chances I was taking and I put my trust into the wrong influences and people. I have developed my own coping mechanisms throughout my life, because addiction was obviously not the first and only trauma I’ve been through, I’ve been having issues since being a toddler basically including emotional violent abuse from the time I was born, sexual assault, personal deaths, bullying, self-harm and mental illness, having parents who are mentally ill and unstable and dealing with their suicide threats as a child, divorce, homelessness, murderers in the family, robbery, knife attacks, being a therapist to my mother, trying to stay objective as she described to me her post-partum depression involving demons telling her to throw me off a balcony and molest me, multiple suicide attempts of my own including a horrendous overdose, multiple hospitalizations, medications, dating a man in his 40’s as a young teen, being cheated on twice, coming to grips with my LGBT identity, and much more. I grew up in a fantasy world, always acting and playing pretend even to this day, I live my life through the eyes of my favorite characters, even while alone. AT this point it is very easy for me to detach from my emotions and reality and observe my own suffering as though I was a character in a movie or something. This is also why I have a decent tolerance to pain. I just view it as an experience, a memory. Time is really an illusion, so when I am hurt, I just remember that in a few hours it will be like nothing ever happened. 

Also, the one most important message I took from NA is probably the simplest, and most people don’t give it a second thought because it’s just a cliche to them, but when you really meditate on it and practice it, you realize how incredibly true and helpful it is: “One day at a time.” And that motto is a principle, not have to take it literally. I know for a lot of people, myself included, it can be more like one minute at a time, but you really gotta try to keep priorities in sight and self-care when need be. Sometimes there is nothing you can do to help yourself but go to sleep all day. It is fine to do that. I have trained myself to fall asleep relatively quickly using deep, controlled stomach breathing and and stims and mental focus patterns such as waterfalls, space travel, etc, movement that stays constant and is relaxing. Music helps too, but only without lyrics. There are a lot of sound pieces on youtube and stuff made for relaxing, like the sound of rain, or nature like the ocean or amazon. Whatever suits you. It is handy to have an off button like a computer sometimes. You just shut down and reboot. 

I’m not saying it is healthy to be avoidant, and I definitely have shut down and become very robotic as of late, but it is highly preferable to the alternative for me until when/if I learn better skills. You will hopefully feel better when you wake up, whether it was physical anxiety or mental or both. Plus, scientifically, sleep and dreaming is when our brains process information and memories, so we may come to familiarize ourselves with unknown fears or stresses while we sleep and wake up more able to deal with them rationally without the fight or flight. One day at a time ties in to a concept we call “the triangle of self-obsession”, and it relates to how living in the past causes resentments, focusing on negatives in the present causes anger, and fear stems from living in the future. One day at a time, take shit as it comes and don’t cross bridges before you get to them. of course, planning still is good but we must be flexible and not place our whole mental state on something that hasn’t happened yet. Anger roots back to fear, fear roots back to lack of control, and once we accept that we really cannot control everything and be omnipresent and all-knowing puppetmasters, we become more humble. 

I myself have come to terms with the fact that I am very narcissistic. I never thought I was, due to low self-esteem, but it only recently occurred to me that being narcissism is usually just a symptom of low self-esteem anyways, and it is just expressed differently. Some people build massive egos and brag. For me, my narcissism forms through being self-centered and selfishly focused on my own problems. Some people focus daily on distinguishing whether they are living and acting on their own will or their higher power’s will, and adjusting their behavior accordingly, because living on our own will is what got us in this position in the first place. I don’t really have a higher power in the traditional sense at this point, but it is still good to be mindful that I am not the center of everything, and that even though I claim to be open-minded, I am still just as judgmental and hypocritical as anyone else, I just express and experience it in different ways. Anyways, long tangent, no one cares, I will shut up now. I am kind of a basketcase, but if you need to talk, you can message or dm me anytime.