#one more rebagel before I do these today

[factorialsfandoms]

This is some Sky angst for the bad things happen bingo prompt of ‘knife to the throat’. While not the whumptober prompt for today, it has the vibes of ‘gun to the temple’ just old timey, so... I may as well post it today! The second scene is for day 5, and I’ll queue it up to rebagel this and post it to tumblr then. It, like most things, will make it to AO3... Eventually???

Warnings: blood, major character injury, medical inaccuracy, ambiguous ending (once there’s scene two I promise its fine)

Characters: Sky, Warriors, Time

FIC:

It had been a stupid mistake. One moment Sky had hesitated to cut down a woman in the middle of a fight, the next he was disarmed, spun around, and had a knife pressed against his throat.

A tiny bit of blood leaked out, but that was not his primary concern - no, it was the way horror dawned across his brothers' faces as they noticed it, or perhaps the way the woman shrieked "stop!"

For a moment, even the monsters obeyed her.

The other Links made to approach, but many of them were cut off by the creatures moving back onto the attack. The fight was winding down, but there was still enough to keep most people occupied.

"Now, please," Time's hands were raised both to pacify and show he had dropped his sword. "Ma'am? There's no need for anything drastic."

The woman tensed a little, but did not make a reply. She did not even seemed scared, not like Sky would expect from someone resorting to this sort of act with his eight heavily armed brothers right there. Distracted, yes, but it would only take a few moments before Wild was free to snipe her - and Sky was certain that, if it proved necessary, he could.

Which... What was going on?

"But you came into my home," the woman sobbed, and yet her body was far too relaxed for it to be true. "You invaded my home!"

"Ma'am," Time did not have the benefit of being pressed against her and feeling the way there was not a drop of tension in her body - as there had been moments prior. "We will leave, just please, let him go."

"What assurance do I have that you will not kill me as soon as I let him go?" she pressed the knife a tiny bit tighter.

Sky tried to zone out the knife, the conversation, everything - Time's panicked but soothing tones, the hurried footsteps as other members of the Chain approached only to be stopped. He concentrated instead on the situation, working out what was going on.

The woman was lieing, she had a plan - stalling for time, perhaps? But why would-

Sky's lightning-feathered scars ached uncomfortably, a sure sign of either a storm, or a building magical power.

And given where they were, he would put money on the magical power.

And on the woman being the one to be storing it up. 

With how it crackled... Sky did not know magic well, but knew that she could not be allowed to succeed.

There was no way he was getting out of this. Not without taking his brothers down too and... And he couldn't - not now, not ever.

Sky raised his eyes slightly, making apologetic eye contact with Time.

"Sky! Dont-"

Sky did.

In a sudden movement he dropped his weight, digging the knife into his throat even as he tipped his adversary over his back and onto her own. Instinctively he threw his hands to his throat - knowing there was no saving himself, but trying anyway - pinching the skin shut even as the room erupted once more into chaos and bloodshed.

Sky swayed where he stood, trying to breathe even as blood filled his windpipe and nothing came. He stamped on panic as it built - he knew this would happen, and he chose it - only for it to overwhelm.

He was dying. He was dying and he couldn't even choke. Couldn't... Couldn't say goodbye to Zelda - he hadn't, when this adventure dragged him in, and now he never would - could say goodbye to his brothers, either.

Tears built in his eyes and he pressed harder on his throat, desperately, hopelessly trying to keep the blood inside.

"Sky!"

Firm hands took his shoulders, guiding him to lie in someone's lap.

Squinting up... Warriors. Of course it was Warriors. Time was nearby, dealing with the fight, and it was Warriors holding him so close.

Sky's fingers were peeled away just momentarily, and the Captain's face turned grim. "Fairy!"

A familiar cluttering of bags sounded out - the fight was ongoing, and yet still people were checking. For him. For him...

"Here!"

A speck of hope - Wind took aim and threw the bottle across the battlefield. Warriors did not even grown as he caught it, tipping the fairy out a little too fast and forcing her onto Sky's skin.

Piercing pink cut through his darkening vision, as a wheeze finally broke through and into his lungs. Desperate, unfeeling, he gasped for more.

"That's it," Warriors body shielded Sky from the attacks all around. "Come on, Sky, you can do this."

Breathing though he may have been, Sky could still feel his body shutting down. All around him was his own, bloody mess, and there... Was not enough blood inside him. Not any more.

He tried to laugh and thank the fairy - it wasn't hurt fault that his body was like this, she'd done her best - as the cold set in and the pain disappeared. Sky could feel himself shaking, and hear the horror in both Warriors' words and expression as he took that in. Felt Sky's cheek, leant down over him.

"Stay awake," Warriors begged of him. "You'll be okay, Sky - the fairy healed up the damage, you just need to stay awake."

Every part of himself felt frozen and heavy, what Warriors was asking seemed an impossibility. But...

But his brother was crying, and even if Sky was too weak to wipe away his tears, he could keep his eyes open.

"There," Warriors sobbed. "Just like that."

Someone else appeared - Sky couldn't be sure who - lifting his legs as the scarf was untied from Warriors neck. It was folded a few times before being placed over Sky, a makeshift blanket that did nothing against the chill.

The someone and Warriors were talking - much too fast - but the sounds of fighting were going away.

Good.

He might never get to say goodbye to Zelda, but... But his brothers were safe. Zelda was safe in Skyloft, and his brothers were not being injured here. He could relax, just let-

A heavy slap came across his cheek, jolting him back to the present. As his eyes sluggishly focused, Sky could see Warriors' moist eyes close above him, begging him to stay awake once more.

The someone else continued talking, perhaps to /another/ someone else in turn. Too many voices now, all cluttered around. Sky could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and yet every thought and movement was weighed down by the weight of at least seven Grooses.

Warriors was asking something of him, but it did not make any sense; Sky fisted his hands into the scarf. That was clearly taken for an answer, for moments later he was being scooped into Warriors' arms.

More conversation happened all around him, panicked and hurried. Sky... Sky could hear their panic, but it was as hard as seeing through his darkening gaze.

A pinch to his shoulder had sky startling more awake once more, gasping in surprise and confusion. It happened a few times - he had long forgotten how many, only barely remembered the desperate voice that came with it - before he was being put down.

To his one side was a fire, to the other was Warriors knees. A potion was being teased drop by drop between his lips; when he realised he cooperated, letting the potion slip in properly.

Swallowing hurt, it hurt so badly, but it could be done; a sigh of relief seemed to pass around the camp, Warriors hand coming to rest on Sky's forehead.

There was a little further talking and another pink glow, and then Sky was being bundled into Warriors arms instead. Tucked small, shielded from all sides, and most importantly cocooned in warmth.

A hug.

Warriors was hugging him, even as he barked orders around.

That... Should not have taken so long to work out.

Still, if he were getting a hug, either... Either it was too late, or it was going to be fine.

Too confused to work out which, Sky huddled closer, and let the creeping darkness dray him off to sleep.

His brothers were safe. In that moment... Nothing else really mattered at all.

[thiscrimsonsoul]

{out of paprikash} *flops* I. Am. Exhausted. XD Tomorrow is the last day I officially have to work, but today was the last marathon day, and I can breathe a sigh of relief. Also, I thought I had six weeks off, but I looked at the dates, and I actually have close to eight, so... that’s a huge woot right there. In the next few days, as I get some rest and recover mentally from these past two hell weeks, I will be on here with more regularity and will be able to write a lot more. =)

For now, I’m going to post a mun meme and then try to get to some replies if possible. We’ll see how it goes, heh. I’m not gonna lie, I’m really, really tired and my brain is mush right now, so don’t expect wonders from me on here tonight.

I do have another announcement: I’m bringing back one more muse from about a year long hiatus while I’m off from work and have more time to rp. If you’re a fan of The Mummy (1999) and The Mummy Returns (2001) movies, if you love ancient Egyptian lore/aesthetic/settings, or if you just want more opportunities for fandom crossovers, please go visit and bother Ardeth Bay over at @medjaichieftain. With the MCU’s multiversal shenanigans, there’s the potential for universe/time jumps and things that could be interesting in crossover threads. I’m going to schedule him for Sundays, but I’ll be keeping him open for a while to get him started before sticking to the ol’ rp schedule. I’ll rebagel his promo in a sec too. =)

[quellmythirst]

Summer Days and Summer Nights. Part 3-

Summary: Living in the city can get pretty boring, your hoping that this season is more interesting than the last. Although living in a tiny flat with your little brother certainly isn't helping matters. Characters: You (reader) x Billy Russo. OC Brother and OC Hudson. Warnings: Swearing, drinking, touching, idiots. Word Count: 1+k {Part 1} {Part 2} Chapter Summary: You wake up from your night at the club to a message on your phone. This gets a bit raunchy later on. If you are under 18 DNI. I do not consent to my works being copied, shared or rewritten. But feel free go rebagel and criticise me.

You woke up, surprised that you weren't more hungover. Your mild headache probably the result of Copper and Hudson having a very loud sing-a-long at 3 am. Unlocking your phone, you thanked past you for being aware enough to put it on charge. Checking the time it’s 8am, awesome. The boys will still be in bed knowing Coop. You thanked past you again for taking the upstairs bedroom. Your eyes shot open when you saw you had a message from an unknown number. You stared at the notification, wondering if you could deal with that. You decided that was a decision for a clean, caffeinated you. Peeling back the blanket you realise you had slept in your clothes, no wonder your arms were sore. Your jacket wrapped tightly around you, squeezing into your sides. Untangling yourself from your jacket, you throw it back onto the bed, a small slip of paper falls from the your pocket and onto the ground. You bend down, turning it over in your hand.

Billy (129) 161-1013 When did he have time to do that? Fuck. The number matched the one in your phone. You groaned, wiping your hand down your face. "No. No. No," You chanted to yourself. "Shower first. Then, whatever this is." Stepping into the steaming shower, your sudsy soap washed away your worries, soothing the aching in your arms. Your thoughts drifted until your fingers were pruney. Taking your towel from the rack you dried off, throwing on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top. Picking up your phone you headed down stairs making a pot of coffee. Your brain really needed the jump start today. You sat on the balcony, taking a sip of your coffee and opened up the message. Taking a deep breath before your eyes fell processed the words on the screen, It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/n. I hope I'll get to see you again I'm sure you'll find a way, Billy Dinner. Tonight. Eight o'clock. Rosarios It didn't sound like a question, but you had so much work to do to prepare for your job tomorrow. You were prepared though, you'd done this a million times. Surely one date wouldn't hurt.. would it? "What are you smiling about?" Your brother said from behind you, looking over your shoulder "Who's Billy?" he grinned at you. "How's Hudson?" You asked, throwing it back. "Just left, he's coming back later, do you think you could? Be busy tonight?" You rolled your eyes at him. Knowing what he was like they'd be up all night either kissing or playing video games or both. You gave him a small nod before grabbing another cup of coffee and heading upstairs to get things ready for tomorrow. Sending a quick text to Billy. Meet you there. See you soon, Gorgeous By 6pm you had everything ready for tomorrow. By 7pm you were all set for your date. Your pastel mid length sundress setting your curves on fire. Slipping on your sandals you head towards the door. Noticing the make out session currently happening on your couch. "Don't you pair fuck on my nice couch," You call before slamming the door behind you. The walk to the restaurant is nice, the cool summer air bristling past you. Couples holding hands, everyone is out enjoying the summer air. You start to get excited, your mind wandering off to the man you're meeting. The soft brush of his stubble on your cheek, the way his eyes seem to devour you with a look, if the rest of him is just as sharp as that jawline. Your foot catches on a stray piece of pavement and you hurtle forward onto your knee. Fuck. You sit down on the sidewalk, scraping loose pieces of concrete from your leg. Thanking whoever that your skirt isn't ruined and is long enough to cover the scrape. Brushing the rest off, you stand wincing a little bit. It's fine. You've definitely had worse and you're only a block away. You're a bit early, too keen to get out of that tiny apartment. Sitting at the bar you nurse your drink and wait for your date to appear. He did. Appear that is. Only about 5 minutes after you. "Couldn't wait?" He asked, his hand slid around your waist. "I've been waiting," you smirk, over the rim of your glass. "Our tables ready, Gorgeous. Follow me" taking your

hand to help you down from the stool. You sat down at a small table at the back of the restaurant. Billy's eyes glancing over the restaurant before landing on you. He took your hand in his, pacing a small kiss on inside of your wrist. "Thank you for coming" those fucking eyes gleamed at you, staring at you through his thick lashes. Was it getting hot in here? "Thanks for inviting me, I didn't really want to stay home and watch my brother and his new thing get it on" You said, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand when he placed it on the table. "Diversion an I?" He chuckled, ordering you both a glass of wine when the waiter appeared, his eyes ever leaving yours. "Maybe," You replied coyly "And what kind of distraction would I be?" He asked, leaning forward, his hand slipping up your dress. "A good one, I hope" "Best looking distraction I've ever had," you mumbled, downing the rest of your drink. Hoping he hadn't heard you, the raising of his eyebrows and slick smile told you otherwise. The waiter returned quickly with your wine and took your orders, before leaving you to your date. You spoke generally of your work, knowing that your rants about severs and the like bored most people. Reminding yourself that your new employer valued discretion. Billy told you he worked in protection, a bodyguard sort of deal you assumed, he also skimmed over the intricate details. You spoke for what seemed like hours about books, music and movies. Seemingly having similar taste, although you left out the part about your adventure novels usually turning sexy. He asked about your brother and family. You filled him in on moving to the city for better opportunities. During your whole conversation you realised his eyes never left yours, smiling when you would giggle at something he said. His hands were always on you, caressing your leg under the table or holding your hand above it. Was this guy even real? After dinner you stood as he pulled out your chair. "Let me pay my half" You insisted, but he was having none of it. "Oh, did you want to pay? Too late, I paid as soon as I walked in the door." He smirked at you, his hands circling your waist. He bent down, capturing your lips in a kiss so soft you thought you might pass out. "I can think of other ways you can repay me" "Let's hear them," you teased, pulling away from him. You started to walk back down the street, his footsteps falling closely behind you. "Cars this way, Gorgeous," he said, taking your hand. You smiled up at him, he could take you into an alley and kill you right now and you'd die happy.

{Part 4}

[antics-pedantic]

MUTANT MEDIA CLUB: Cyber-Chump

For those who saw glory in the digital world, the Coalition for Generated Imagery was the group to go to. And there was no one more skillful than Null Node. Their hair was a bright red, eyes glowing golden from the cybernetic implants there. And of course, they sported a cool long, dark coat and half-finger gloves. Everyone in the C.G.I. just really dug cyberpunk. And I do emphasize the “punk” aspect, as members of the C.G.I. were working folks in the areas of programming, mechanical engineering, and hologram-putting-together tasks. 

Today, Null Node had managed to get a working build together for a new game they had been working on. The prototype title for the time being was something to the tune of “Danger in the DMV,” a short role-playing game meant to illustrate the utter agony of having to do much of anything at the department of motor vehicles. It was a passion project, so it didn’t pay nearly as much as the 3D animation work Null and some others did for Triumph Studios on some of their sci-fi/fantasy programming. But it was a labor of love they worked on at their own pace, and not on crunch time that demanded days, nights, and minimal bathroom breaks.

“How’s the game coming along, Null?” asked Volcanicook, owner of the tropical-themed “Magma Munchies” food truck, as she served up the cyberpunk a styrofoam container of fresh hot food. She was a mutant who had a literal volcano sticking out of her head.

“Finally got some irritating assets to work. At this rate I’ll be able to have as few bugs as possible. Then the real challenge will be plugging the game online.”

“Hey, make a promo post and I’ll rebagel it. From my personal and my company accounts!” said Vcook. “I’ve been so hyped to play your next release! That last one—“Parkour Granddad” was great. Vertical gameplay coupled with a challenging, but not impossible puzzle system? Loved it!”

“Ah… I don’t know if Danger in the DMV will be as mechanically complex. The plot is pretty bare bones.” said Null Node. But Volcanicook would hear none of it.

“Null Node, you look me in the eyes and tell me makin’ some fries is less important than grilling up a whole order.”

“But the fries are just a side, Vcook. Not a main course.”

“But nothin’!” scoffed Volcanicook. “Sometimes people just want some fries. Not a whole thing. Don’t feel like you gotta put out a big spread every time. Just focus on trying to bring your visions to life as best you can. Bugs are to be expected! You can work them out later if you really gotta. Besides, it doesn’t help that you’re busting your rump on all those more lucrative jobs.”

Null Node could only offer a hushed thanks to Volcanicook before they departed. That was a lot to think about. So much thinking about the nature of creation versus merely churning out content that the cyberpunk failed to notice the whirring of a lawn mower engine. A few jerks in homemade power armor had blocked both directions of the sidewalk Null Node was on. 

“Shell Gamers!” gasped Null Node, brandishing a tactical katana from within their long coat. “What do you greaseballs want?!”

“We want payback.” said one of the Shell Gamers. “Our sector lieutenant literally wants his money back after buying one of your stupid artsy fartsy games.”

“But the game is free with a “pay what you want” option.”

“Shut up! Get ready for a jump, boys!”

The Shell Gamers charged at Null Node. With a swipe of their sword, Null was able to scare them into ducking for cover. That gave the cyberpunk a chance to rush off into an alleyway. The Shell Gamers couldn’t follow Null Node up a fire escape ladder unless they took off their clunky armor. The smug Null Node was halfway up to the roof before a window opened up in front of them, a Shell Gamer pulling the cyberpunk into the apartment, where the Shell Gamer slapped a spaghetti strainer onto Null’s head. The colander hat was covered in little devices and a whole mess of wires that let off sparks.

And then Null Node passed out.

X

“Hey. Are they awake?”

“Buzz off, I’m not checking unless I find a stick to poke ‘em with.”

“Scrapsap, c’mon!” 

Null Node came to a start slowly: There was a rusty robot, and some raven-haired guy in a pair of glasses and a bowling shirt bickering all the while. It appeared that they were in a gritty alien environment—the interior of a ship or base. Did the Shell Gamers send them all off to space or something? 

“Hey. Hey. Can we maybe take five seconds—minutes rather, and speak freely?”

“What? Oh yeah. I’m Scrapsap.” said the robot, mechanically extending an arm to shake hands with Null Node. “The geek here’s CLERK.”

“It’s CLARK!” spat the man. “Clark Raut, at your service.”

“Hey, I know you. From that talk show-- Speakeasy Station, right?” said Null Node, shaking Clark’s hand as well.

“Wow. Are you one of the many who send me death threats to read aloud on the show?”

Null Node shook their head.

“What? No. I like your livestream. Your critiques and skits are great too. But that does explain why those Shell Gamers brought you here. You must have dissed their favorite… I dunno. Movie? Game? Comic?”

“I diss a lot of things.”

Clark seemed to light up a little at the thought of having an audience that wasn’t hostile towards him, even grinning at Scrapsap, who was fishing for a five-dollar bill: Scrapsap had made a bet that the next person who had seen Clark’s show would be one of his many enemies. Fortunately, Null Node was a friend.

“But why would they kidnap a robot?” asked Null Node.

“I think they’re jealous of my tremendous appeal. Being that I kick ass and I’m so beautiful.” suggested Scrapsap. “And those Shell Gamers are… uh. They’re wet socks. Haw haw!”

“Damn.” said Null Node, looking to Clark. Both were nodding. “What a mystery. Let’s focus on getting out of here.”

The three wandered around the place for a while, trying to find their way out. Scrapsap had come across some sort of strange pad on the ground beside a ledge. In spite of Null Node and Clark’s best attempts to pull the robot away, Scrapsap proceeded to hop onto the pad, which increased his jumping power many times over, and launched him in an arc over to a hovering platform across the chasm before them. 

“Hey look!” shouted Scrapsap, holding up a set of upper body armor. “Somebody left their stupid football gear here.”

As Scrapsap said that, a shot rang out. An emerald-hued energy bolt of tremendous power proceeded to lay waste to Scrapsap. Mostly in that Scrapsap was so startled by the blast (which he could have survived), and then backed up off the edge of the platform he stood on, to fall into the abyss. Clark was screaming, Null Node panicking albeit in a more silent fashion. 

“Sup, boners.”

With a “BYUA!” sound and a burst of purple light, Scrapsap reappeared beside the cyberpunk and the self-styled critic.

“Scraps! How’d you survive that?!” exclaimed Clark. Scrapsap just shrugged, then pointed and laughed at Clark.

“Heck if I know! But I totally saw you blubbering over my DEATH.”

“I didn’t’!” lied Clark. “But… you’re right here. You clearly got teleported out.”

Null Node blinked. They had realized what was going on.

“No, he did die, Clark. He just respawned!”

And then in that moment, some kind of ancient intercom system began to blare. Words, no less!

“PEOPLE ARE A RESOURCE!” came a voice. “AND JUST LIKE RESOURCES THEY NEED TO BE MINED. SO THAT OTHERS CAN LIVE, IN A BETTER TOMORROW…”

“Is he talking about US?!” cried Clark. 

“AND I’M GONNA DO A LOT OF MINING. A LOOOOT. OF REDSTONE MINING—”

But the voice segued into rambling and laughter.

“I think. I think he kinda lost it there at the end.” said Null Node. “We gotta get out of here.”

The three started to sprint. Behind them were stray shots from the one trying to snipe them. Until at last, that figure appeared before them: With a white coat and tie, plus some pasta strainers and bowls that made up a helmet and shoulder pads.

“It’s the health inspector of the future: Judge Bread!”

“That’s RIGHT you UNCOOKED TURKEYS!” exclaimed Judge Bread.

“But why would a health inspector play video games?!” cried Clark.  

“It helps me pass the time until I am needed once more to deliver verdicts and damn the UNHYGIENIC!” gurgle-screeched Judge Bread. “You’ve been found to be unacceptably filthy in both exterior and your inside thoughts and feelings, how do you plea?”

Scrapsap made a fart noise and dived for cover with Null Node. That left Clark to get fragged by Judge Bread. Of course, when Clark respawned, he looked mortified.

“What is it, Clark?!” said Null Node.

“That dingbat Scrapsap didn’t tell us there’s a scoreboard!”

“It doesn’t matter!” shouted Scrapsap. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”

“It does! The only way to win is if we score high enough.” said Clark. “And Scrapsap is at -1! You and I are at 0!”

For revealing that Scrapsap had the lowest score, the robot tried to extend his arms over to punch his companion into oblivion, knowing Clark could just respawn. Null Node slapped everyone aside at last.

“Then we gotta grab some weapons and score enough to get out of here! Those Shell Gamers must be around here in this digital warzone. I say we meet them head-on and punch our tickets that way.”

“And we’ll pay the toll… in hot lead!” spat Clark. “Alright. Scrapsap can go use his extendo arms to grab us some guns. Let’s you and me try to distract Judge Bread.”

Clark was the first out of cover. Null Node not far off. The two split off in different directions to keep their opponent busy while Scrapsap sought weapons. It seemed they had all started off unarmed, and all the other players around had gotten the jump on them. 

For Null Node it was surprisingly quiet for a while. They assumed Clark had kept Judge Bread sufficiently distracted. At least they did until they ran into Bread, who was currently experiencing the phenomenon known as “lag,” as the health inspector’s wireless fidelity took a massive drop. Before Null Node could escape, Judge Bread’s movement was corrected, and he lagged no longer.

“Testing. Testing.” said Judge Bread out loud. “Am I still lagging?”

“You’re good now I think.” said Null Node, before slapping themselves upside the head. This surely meant Judge Bread could finish them off. While Null Node backed up, Clark observed the events from a vantage point, and began foraging for something to defeat Judge Bread with, before jumping down.

“Ow, shit!” cursed Clark, taking slight fall damage. “Your honor, wait! You CAN’T shoot Null Node, because you WON’T BE ABLE to shoot Null Node, because—”

“Spit it out, boy!” hissed Judge Bread. But soon, Judge Bread was enamored with what Clark offered in exchange for Null Node’s life: a bottle of mouthwash. Judge Bread was notorious as the most dedicated of health inspectors, and he was practically shaking with delight at the sight of an item that could improve the thing he valued most.

“H-H-HYGIENE!”

Clark put the bottle on the ground and kicked it over to Judge Bread. Judge Bread took the bottle frantically, before shuffling away. 

“How did you find mouthwash in what I can only assume is a modded late 1990’s first-person-shooter game?” asked Null Node. 

“They did a promotional thing with the dental health company where the in-game armor pick-ups were mouthwash. I was able to exploit it using console commands.”

“And that’ll be the LAST time you cheat, CLARK.” came the booming voice again. 

“But is it really cheating if he just… re-skinned something?” said Null Node, pointing out that factoid. The booming voice just groaned.

“Ugh! Whatever. Just go to the CENTRAL OBELISK once you have enough points. And then in the POWER DOME, we will decide who games and who games NOT!”

Clark scratched his head.

“I think that clown knows you from somewhere.”

Null Node tried desperately to recollect who they might have antagonized in the past to deserve such treatment. Then reconsidered, as Shell Gamers would antagonize people over the slightest thing. It didn’t even have to be a major personal beef with someone else. Just purchasing the wrong color headphones or liking a video game they hated was enough to mark even the gentlest soul as a target. 

“Hey, quit brooding.” said Scrapsap. “I got us some guns.”

“We’re not brooding!”

Null Node was up first. They picked out a shotgun. Or something very much like a shotgun, it seemed to shoot lightning bolts in lieu of a spread of buckshot from shells. Scrapsap was carrying something resembling the model of carpet cleaner one could rent from a store, steam still rising fresh from its firing barrel. And then Clark was armed with a rocket launcher, but its ammunition seemed to consist of ball-peen hammers.

Now armed, the three stood back-to-back. Null Node had figured on navigating every corridor and crevice they could squeeze into, avoiding the more heated players and picking off novice stragglers to build up their points. At least, until the stragglers disconnected from the match in frustration. Soon, only the best players remained. 

“We’ve gotta make it to twenty points—where are we all at? I think I’m just about at 19.” said Null Node. “One more and I can go take on the Shell Gamer that put us here.” 

“I’m at 17.” said Clark with a sigh. “I got clipped a couple times back there and didn’t say. I’m sorry, Null. I might not be able to get out of here.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I’m at like 15.” said Scrapsap. “I keep falling off platforms. If you’re gonna be stuck here, you’re stuck with me too. And I’m gonna destroy everybody else. Because I wanna destroy you MYSELF Clark.”

“I’ll get you first, you rustbucket.” said Clark. “Regardless, even if we can’t get our points up we’ll at least distract some of the higher level players enough to let you do some damage.”

Null Node offered a small smile. But then they looked to their shotgun and shook their head.

“We should split up now. I’ll see you two by the Central Obelisk soon enough.”

X

Scrapsap felt quite safe wielding that gargantuan rental carpet cleaner weapon. There was absolutely nothing that could go wrong so long as he had his superior firepower, and nerves of literal steel. Or so he might have claimed: Scrapsap was actually very incredibly afraid he’d never be able to get out of this game. Forced to play with utter dweebazoids for time immemorial. 

Just then, the sound of a duck ‘quack!’ went off, and Scrapsap turned to aim: He’d spotted a Shell Gamer using some kind of ray gun to turn people into a duck.

“Oh no way, you got the Morph-O-Ray!” exclaimed Scrapsap. 

“What? No, it’s only the Quack-O-Ray, dum-dum.” said the Shell-Gamer. “The Sheepinator and the Chicken one are separate weapons.”

“Not as of the update. There’s a trick for it with the uh, the mouse-wheel and stuff. Here, try it.”

The Shell Gamer mulled it over for a while, before finally switching out weapons. Scrapsap nudged the Shell Gamer into doing so, before loudly ordering the Shell Gamer to fire right away. Which ended up launching a grenade that ate away at the Shell Gamer’s health, and then Scrapsap scurried over to punch them. When the Shell Gamer respawned, Scrapsap just gestured defensively.

“Whoa, go easy on me here: I thought you turned on me! Anyways you didn’t time it right. You gotta do it more like this, real fast but then back and forth. It takes a few tries, so don’t feel ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed, I’ll prove I can do it and that you’re just a crappy teacher and player!”

After the rinse came the repeat, and Scrapsap scored another point.

“Good try, real close.” said Scrapsap, as they tried a couple more times. But rather than get angry, the Shell Gamer seemed kind of dejected.

“Thanks for being so patient with me, robot guy. My boss wouldn’t cut me nearly as much slack…”

“What? He sounds like a tool.” said Scrapsap, looking to see that his score was up to twenty points and he could easily progress. “C’mon, forget this lousy exploit. Let’s go micspam meme songs at people so they get annoyed. You deserve it.”

“Wow. Thanks!”

“Oh, and feel free to trash talk your boss all the while, I ain’t no snitch.”

“Funny you say that. So just before we started this whole scheme—"

X

Volcanicook was back at her truck, wondering where Clark and Scrapsap were at. Along with her current sweetheart, the half-crocodile cursed comedian called Lounge Lizard, they had formed a sort of friend group with a catchy name. The kind of name that would make for a great series title, or a larger franchise someday. Though they were hardly the only ones in the entertainment business—and as mutants at that, this motley crew saw fit to call themselves the Mutant Media Club. With the writer’s satisfaction at the in-universe title drop, the misadventure continues:

“Hey Vcook! Check THIS out.” exclaimed LL. The comedian was wearing a pair of roller blades, struggling to maintain balance. “Scraps promised we’d go to the roller skating rink. Wanna come with? I bet I can get us free food and stuff if I fake an injury!”

“Sure. But LL, have you looked at the time? Scrapsap and Clark have been gone a while. Come to think of it, I saw some Shell Gamers laughing it up about Null Node…”

Lounge Lizard gestured for Volcanicook to wait a moment, before pulling out their phone. Rather than look at the digital clock, LL was instead distracted by a text.

“Hey, Vcook. Go play Half-Quake.”

“LL. Muddy buddy. I know business is slow, but I should probably keep the truck going a little longer—”

“HALF-QUAKE PRONTO, MY VESUVIAN DARLING!”

Gesturing for Lounge Lizard to slow down, Vcook went to pull up a laptop she kept with her more personal non-cooking things in the truck. Once she booted up the game, Lounge Lizard was failing miserably to board the truck, slowed down by the roller blades they had yet to master.

“Here’s the server address. Do you see ‘em?” asked LL, throwing the phone into the truck.

“Not as well as I’d like,” said Vcook, rubbing one eye and picking up the projectile phone that landed in her lap after collision with her face. “But yeah: I see Scrapsap and some Shell Gamer being friendly. Clark’s sprinting through a hallway rabidly firing the Ball-Peen Hammer Bazooka in a bid for survival. Null Node’s not far off…”

And then Volcanicook got into the game as well, using her familiarity with the arena to obtain an oversized glue gun. It was like a large hose attached to a backpack loaded with the stuff, and she was proceeding to use it to entrap other players. Fighting her way towards her friends.

X

Clark was running for his life, but what else was new?

The ball-peen hammer bazooka was almost useful. He fired it low to the ground, and the hammers would bounce around in wide swinging arcs that took some health and armor points away from his opponents. But it wasn’t enough: He had to hurry and find a more direct weapon. 

The first sight of a pad emitting a hologram duplicate of a machine gun was halfway promising. Save for the fact the weapon pad needed a moment to manifest a solid copy, as indicated by a hovering circular loading bar. Clark tapped his foot impatiently, wondering when it would finally be ready. 

“C’mon, can’t you go any faster?!”

Just then, there was a small blinking red light: On the edge of the pad was a coin slot, with an insert for entire dollar bills as well. A handy infographic demonstrated that depending on the payment provided, it would make the whole thing go faster. A quarter would take off a second or two, a whole dollar would go halfway through, and for ten dollars it would completely disregard the duration. An added sticker also suggested that for twenty dollars or more, the weapon could receive exclusive skins for the in-game model, the price ever-rising. The only other way to attain them seemed to be via randomized loot boxes, or through a nigh-impossible amount of grunt work in the game that few had the free time to achieve.

“Wow! This STINKS!”

“No KIDDING!”

Clark nearly jumped out of his pixelated skin at the sight of his opponent: It was Judge Bread. 

“This wasn’t the deal, Bread. I gave you the mouthwash.”

“And it was good, for all its digitized worth.” rinsed and spat Judge Bread, putting the bottle away. “I blasted a few punks on the way here, came to give you my spare laser pistol.”

Clark had nowhere to leap to if Judge Bread was fooling with him. But sure enough, the health inspector was kicking over a weapon as promised. 

“… Why would you help me?” said Clark. “Won’t this prevent you from winning the match?”

Judge Bread scoffed.

“There’ll be other matches. Other weekends. But an upstanding young man like yourself is rare. You and I are both very critical of the world around us. And we share an affinity for mint flavored things. When the day comes that I can no longer harshly PAN a fool like a fresh hot LOAF, I will need a successor who can really stick it to these dirtbags and make them feel bad for liking things-- Hey! No need to start shooting at me yet. Just give it some thought. Here’s my card.”

Clark ceased firing frantically and took the card as Judge Bread dived back into the fray. The health inspector left Clark a few easy targets rack up points with—and Clark, not wanting to waste this opportunity, fired away. He could rejoin Scrapsap and Null Node up ahead. 

But at what cost? Was he doomed to be a nitpicking nuisance like Judge Bread? And worst of all, to eventually become like him? As cool as it would have been to shoot guns and be some sort of action hero, it was toeing the space beyond the line Clark walked, between being a mediocre schmuck and the descent into noise pollution and disturbing public peace to rant about meaningless details. He wanted to be heard though, inspire thought, and encourage analysis of the components that made up the media everyone consumed.

For now, he’d have to settle for having a blaster and supporting his friends.

X

Null Node had gotten up to twenty points. He was at the central obelisk, or whatever it was that their opponent had designated the point of their final battle. Ahead, Null could see a building of pillars and archways, in the olden Roman style. There in the shadows stood a figure in that homemade power armor. 

“Do you remember?” asked the Shell Gamer who masterminded this entire operation. “Have you figured out the mystery yet?”

“No, you’ve given me no hints or clues whatsoever.” said Null Node. “There’s no possible way anyone could come to a reasonable conclusion based on available information. Haven’t you ever seen a decent detective story in your life?”

“What-- forget it, alright. I’ll simply tell you, fool…”

The figure stepped out of the shadows. 

“I’m Shell Gamer #544. Colby. We went to video game programming camp together in middle school.”

Null Node had to stop and think about it. They were almost certifiably convinced Colby was just making this up for dramatic effect. But Null Node had to try! Null reached within the depths of their mind, using the full capability of their compu-power cybernetics to fire synapses and neurons and-- 

No, wait. Null Node remembered Colby now. The kid that kept bumming everyone else for their coding work. Actually, Colby did that during computer science class in high school and into college. There was never a stretch of time that Null Node wasn’t forced to acknowledge Colby’s existence. Colby was just such a rude jerk that everyone made an active attempt to forget about him. In Null Node’s case it nearly worked up until now that Colby had become a Shell Gamer. 

“Screw you. You couldn’t come up with an original idea or line of code to program it to save your life.”

“Yeah, but I’m still getting jobs.” sneered Colby. “With Triple-A game studios that make ultra-graphics masterpieces. You’re just a bunch of pretentious art snobs who don’t live in the REAL world.”

“Only because you basically sabotaged and robbed the efforts of everyone around you.” said Null Node. “And shut up, it doesn’t matter how great the graphics are or how realistic the gameplay is. None of that matters if people don’t enjoy what they’re playing. Whether it’s all play, a story being told as only an interactive medium can allow, or who knows what.”

“%$&# off. It’s time to end this.”

Null Node was going to draw their gun, but Colby had like ten or so other guys show up next to him. A few Shell Gamers, but mostly stragglers bought off with the promise of randomized loot crates. Gunslinging gamblers hired to make this fight unfair. Null Node looked around to try and find Clark and Scrapsap, but they were yet to arrive. Null didn’t blame them if they ditched, or couldn’t get their scores up in time. 

“Open the crates first.”

Null Node perked up at the sound of Clark’s voice as he walked into view. The Shell Gamers scowled, but their hired guns paused. 

“What do you mean? They’ve promised us high chance tyrian purple loot boxes. That’s a guarantee we’ll get good stuff. We even saw the loot boxes in their inventories.”

“It’s still a roll, cowboy.” retorted Clark. “You wanna risk your scores and reputation on a variable payment? We made it to twenty points. If we got to this final showdown, there’s a chance you might walk away with nothing, or earnings less than nothing. Every damn one of you will be made fools of.”

Just then, the gamblers turned their weapons on the fewer Shell Gamers.

“What is this?! Don’t let that geek tell you what’s what!” exclaimed Colby. “We know these games. We’re the Shell GAMERS.”

But the guns were still turned on them. 

“I may be a cutthroat sellsword of the digital realm, but I’m proud of how much time I put into this game to get where I am level-wise.” said one of the gambler-gunslingers. “Let’s go, posse. Greater glory and prizes await us in another server.”

The gunslinger-gamblers disconnected from the match. It evened the odds a bit. But it was still two against five. Clark had his hand over his side-- not actually wearing a holster, he just wanted to feel like the star of a spaghetti western movie, about to whip out a pistol from the holster. Waiting for Null Node, or the Shell Gamers to start firing. When the shooting started, there was a shock to be had.

Volcanicook had used her gluethrower to stick them all in place! All save for the fleeing Colby. Scrapsap and the reformed Shell Gamer came sprinting in, playing a musical mash-up of “YMCA” and “Highway to Hell” that left them all terrified. 

“Go ahead!” said Vcook. “We’ll handle these crumbs!”

Null Node just nodded, as Lounge Lizard appeared nearby, gator-sharp teeth clamped onto a foe’s exposed arm. Before they left, LL threw Null Node their favorite tactical katana.

“You dropped this back in the meatspace!” said LL. “Give ‘em HELL!”

Null just grinned, offering thanks before running after Colby. The two were eventually face to face on a bridge that spun away from the rest of the arena, to the point they couldn’t jump off without falling into a pit below.

“So, this is how it ends?” said Null Node.

“With you dying. And crying.”

“I can only do the latter before the former.”

Colby scowled.

“Don’t try to confuse me! Die!”

“Or should I cry first?”

“ERRAAAAUGH!!”

It was a war waged to the last. The two running every which way, jumping around to exploit movement glitches that would grant them greater velocity. Shots from their collected array of weapons went in every direction. And then the fact that the both of them weren’t really all that good at competitive arena shooter games became quite apparent as they continuously failed to hit each other, only occasionally scoring a lucky bit of damage every now and then as they frantically lashed out at one another. 

Until finally, Colby seemed to disconnect from the match abruptly. The arena around them began to crumble, as players scrambled to become the new host of the match before it all fell apart. And since the three unwilling participants were ported into the game by the Shell Gamers, they started to crumble too. 

“NO!” exclaimed Lounge Lizard. “FART MCMUFFIN, GRAB MY PAW!”

Clark reached out to grab his friend’s hand, but upon successfully gaining a hold and preventing the crumbling process, Lounge Lizard and Clark high-fived, which released Clark to his fate. Scrapsap laughed, reaching over with an extending robo-arm. But his mistake had been thinking a low-five would fare any different. 

And then Null Node woke up in a leather recliner seat, forcing off an oxygen mask that was also hooked up to an IV drip of Mountain Dew. Clark was not far off, emerging from a similar setup. On top of their “life” support technology, they were given virtual reality goggles. As for Scrapsap, he had just been plugged in via a USB or HDMI cable port into the master computer, where Colby sat. 

“The--the jig is up, Colby.” sputtered Null Node. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Give it up Gameboy, you don’t stand a chance.” said a dizzy Clark. “Why did they mess with the color contrast on my VR set?... eugh.”

Scrapsap was still powering back on. Colby turned his office chair to face them.

“You fools. Did you think my intention was to trap you inside the game forever?”

Clark squinted his eyes.

“That chart on the wall detailing the phases of your evil plan seems to confirm that for us.”

“What? No.” said Colby, tearing the paper chart off. “It’s just a bonus of my larger plan. Shut up. My real plan was to use you chumps as free beta testers for my Half-Quake mods and VR setup. Once I get this to the department heads, they’ll be thrilled! I’ll earn a king’s ransom!”

Clark separated Scrapsap from the USB cord that kept him in place. The three were running to grab whatever they could-- fire extinguishers, chairs, anything that they could physically utilize to destroy the place. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you: We’ll sue your pants off if any company machinery is damaged! After all: Triumph Electronic is the interactive software subsidiary of Triumph Studios. A larger organization YOU assholes still work for!”

Clark still held up the folding chair he’d found. Scrapsap was swinging his arms like windmills. Null Node held the fire extinguisher in hand. Though none discarded their improvised weapons, they could tell that retaliation would not come this day. 

“So… we can leave, right?” said Clark.

“I actually can’t stop you now in that regard, so yeah.” sneered Colby. “But in all your years to come, in your most private moments, you’ll remember this moment. Like, you’ll be in a shower and then you’ll just get haunted by the memory. That you were BETA beta testers, and I am an ALPHA male!”

“You realize that David Mech, who originally suggested the concept of Alpha male animal pack leaders in his 1970 book "The Wolf: Ecology and Behavior of an Endangered Species," has long since disproven?” pointed out Clark. “Mech himself came back in a 1999 paper to say wolves don’t fight for dominance but instead split off from the pack to form new ones and rule them because they’re parents leading their pups? Not to mention, the concept was actually first believed to have been observed in female chickens--”

“This is why no one likes you.” said Colby. “Get out of here already. I’m gonna get paid. Go whine about it online.”

“Colby’s a loser, let’s get out of here.” said Scrapsap, giving Clark a pat on the back and waving Null Node over to follow. As they exited the building, they could see the Magma Munchies truck in the distance coming to give them all a ride home.

“I can’t believe it. He won.” sighed Null Node.

“We don’t know that! Maybe his boss will call him a dingus and say the idea sucks. And fire him. And throw eggs at his house.”

“Scrapsap’s actually right for once. There’s no guarantee that Colby’s Mountain Dew life-support system will succeed. And even if it does we can point and laugh at it. Maybe I’ll make a video essay about how much it bites.”

Null Node tried to smile a bit at the thought. 

“Hey, I told Volcanicook but.. I don’t think I got to mention my newest project to you and Scrapsap. It’s called ‘Danger in the DMV,’ I think you’d like it…”

“Clever name! Tell us more?”

“I hate going to the DMV, it’s so time-consuming and stuff.” said Scrapsap. “Does your game capture the agony of waiting in line and taking a photo on the spot for your driver’s license?”

“That and more, Scraps.” said Null Node. “That and more.”

THE END… FOR NOW

[ardentlythieving]

Heyyyy everybody welcome back to the rambling with Ardent show coz yet again I’ve been having thoughts and typing them out helps me process them so here they are. As always if u rebagel i kill you but like,,,, not today or tomorrow just one day...... ummm putting this one under a cut and like tw: abuse coz im gonna be talking quite heavily about that hhhhh.

Hi, I’m Ardent and I’m an introvert. “But Ardent you act like the LEAST introverted person I know”. Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa buckle up peeps coz all will be explained... eventually. This one is gonna be a long one.

Ok so I’m not 100% on where to take this one so it might be kinda messy, but y’all can just deal yea coz that’s what my brain is like All The Time. Anyways. I guess it started when I was REALLY young. Not the abuse itself, that’ll tie in later but. Fun Ardent Fax number 67: I was homeschooled until I was about 9. And here’s a free secret from me: homeschooling + adhd = a 9y/o who doesn’t reallly know how to relate to other ppl. Hella shy, hella nervous, bad at making friends. Got bullied quite a bit, it was whatever. Safe to say I was a pretty Lonely Kid. This isn’t part of the abuse, but it did set me up for it I guess. Like, it made me vulnerable in a specific way that someone could, and did, exploit.

When I was 12 was when I met her. She has quite a unique name and despite what she did to me I don’t wanna doxx her so imma call her NJB for nutjob bitch because I can be nasty if I want to and right now I want to. Shut up, this is my post not urs. Anyways, we were in the same class, we were both cut off from any other friends we had at that point due to them being in different classes and we kinda.. fell in together. Around this point was also when my mom got diagnosed with cancer, which will become relevant later. Back to the story. So for about a year, maybe a little longer everything was great. We got really close really quickly. She was probably my first Real Best Friend since I started school. Now the year before I HAD made some friends, but like I said, they all got put in other classes. And I was so friggin scared of going back to being that lonely that I got real close to her real fast. 

Then we started high school/college/whatever you wanna call it. And that was the point where things got.... weird. NJB started lying. About a ton of shit. And it was stuff that I KNEW was bullshit, but if I didn’t take her seriously enough she got pissy at me. And then like a week later wow, lie no longer relevant, wonder why that is??? Lmao. Now at this point there were other people in our group of friends. Who had all joined the group through NJB. This should’ve been a MASSIVE red flag, but I was like 13 or 14, so I didn’t pick up on it. Basically anyone else I wanted to hang out with, she wasn’t interested in getting to know. And if I hung out with other ppl and tried to become friends with them she started getting very pissy about that. And like... she was my Best Friend and these were people with Friend Potential and I didn’t wanna be lonely again so it was really no contest. 

And at this point she got bored of general lies and started lying about ME. Everything would be fine for a while and then she’d be like “why did you do/say this?” And it was something that NEVER happened. And sometimes she wouldn’t even explicitly say what I supposedly did, she’d just tell me that “I know what I did” (no i dont coz it never happened) and then she’d call me an ugly bitch or whatever. I could apologise or I could try and remind her that it never happened or I could just say nothing and take it and it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t talk to me, she’d stop our other friends from talking to me, and I would just be isolated for a while. A couple of times she threatened to beat me up, although she never actually did. 

And then she’d be all “I forgive you” or she wouldn’t even do that she’d just act like it never happened and was all ready to be friends again and I didn’t HAVE anyone else and I hated hated hated being so LONELY and would’ve done anything to stop. And I think there was also a bit of me that was scared of what she would do if I said no. So I’d go back to being her friend and everything would be great and fun and wonderful for a while and then it would happen again. And again. And again. For about a year.

Then my mom died. And I took a month off school. And two weeks after I got back, she did it again. Yeah. My mom had been dead 6 weeks and she decided this was the perfect time to make up lies about the depressed girl. I lost it. I literally threw myself at her. I got pulled off her and just kept trying to kick her, but I couldn’t and I was sent out of class. Didn’t get in trouble for it, but I got to spend that class sitting in the library reading and it was the only class I had with her so... probably for the best lmao. And on the very last day of school for the year she came up to me and acted like nothing had happened and I was so relieved to not have to be alone anymore and that she’d forgiven me for attacking her that I just.... went along with it. For another year or two. And then I finally had other friends and one day she started one of those lies that weren’t about me, but I was supposed to be ultra sympathetic to and I just. Walked away. 

And then the abuse itself was over, but the trauma was still there. And I repressed it so fuckin deep I only really remembered this shit all happened about a month ago. I got scared right, like deep down all the way inside me, of being that dependent on one person ever again that I would let them treat me like that because being alone was worse. And that was the point when I became an extrovert. I forced myself into that role of talking to as many disconnected people as possible and having as many different groups as possible because it was the only way I felt safe. Because she didn’t start that shit until at least a year into our friendship, so how tf was I supposed to believe that the new people in my life would 100% never hurt me like that? I still don’t know how. So I coped the only way I could: by making sure that even if someone DID pull that shit and cut me off from a group of friends I had other options. 

It also meant I have... issues dealing with loss. Because I DID have one other friend for the first year that was going on. And then she moved to Australia and I was totally alone. So I guess I started associating losing friends with becoming dependent on one person again, which ironically enough made me more and more dependent on anyone I thought I was losing. That’s one I’m working through. Now that I’ve realized it’s what’s going on I can actually start addressing it and tbh I feel so much better now I am. Still don’t know how to deal with the whole “im forcing myself to act like an extrovert even when it exhausts me coz it’s the only way i feel safe”, but it’s whatever. I’m on meds now and I have a good support network and I’ve started therapy. One day I’ll figure it out. I’ve been living like this for this long, I can keep it up until I reach somewhere better.

And I guess that’s my sign off reminder. Whatever you’re going through, you’ve survived it this long. You can keep surviving until you reach somewhere better. One day we’ll all get to be a person we’re happy with, we just gotta hold on and work to it together. Ardently, signing out.

[thederivativeofrad]

Update

I ran into an old friend today (if you can call him that being my mother’s age) and I think he was exactly who I needed to see in that moment, which is pretty rad. He said a couple things, things that were--unknowingly to him--exactly what I needed to hear.

I’ve got a lot of things going on right now, but of those things the most important is improving myself--both physically and mentally--for the sake of doing it, to be happier, to be healthier, to be more capable of all the things I want to do. 

I have a lot of emotional baggage that comes from things that I’ve been through from childhood to now, and quite honestly, to view learned behaviours through someone else and to be able to identify that in oneself can be something very useful when it comes to bad habits and trying to fix them. I grew up with both of my parents, no matter if that should have been the case or not, and they tried very very hard to make sure that I had everything I needed, most everything I wanted, and was supported in everything I did and most everything I said. I was spoiled, but that weird line just before spoiled rotten. I didn’t expect these things, I appreciated them deeply and knew how to show genuine gratitude, and though most of my years so far I have quite deeply respected my parents and the decisions that they’ve made, but over time I can see that they made a lot of mistakes, enabled me in some areas too much, and have quite honestly shown me in a few different ways/examples what an unhealthy relationship is and how to create such an environment. They didn’t realize they were doing this at the time, but that doesn’t mean that bad habits hadn’t been formed, and that damage hadn’t been done over time.

For a long time I saw most people as above me, especially those people that I liked, respected, cherished, and loved. I’d still argue that up until very recently that I very consistently felt this way, and to this day I still feel that way on occasion and that I am trying very hard to quit making these assumptions and letting them dictate how I act in my relationships, whether they be with people I have closely known twenty years, sixteen years, seven years, five years, or three years. Some of these people are people that I try very hard to please, ultimately giving up a lot of my own self to attempt to fulfill this. These are people that I want to constantly impress, people that I want to constantly be happy, people that I want to say I’ve done something for, that I’ve helped them in some significant way. 

The ironic thing is that by putting some of these people on such a pedestal I have unfortunately pushed them away at times, and in some cases with past relationships I have irreparably damaged bonds that likely could have gone on. I want to do so much for these individuals such as my mother, a particularly depressed friend of mine, and a majority of my past girlfriends (good thing Freud’s theories are trash, amirite) that I have gone and trashed so many good things just because I felt so insignificant, like the help that I was giving wasn’t help enough, as if everything I was doing wasn’t good enough or wasn’t exactly how the person would have wanted it to be done, and that was ammunition for me to hurt myself and to make myself feel even more low. I become a different person while dealing with this mess. I become a shadow of myself acting as a servant to the individual in question even though all they wanted from me is me.

Yes, it’s taken me a decade to realize it, but people want to hang out with me, talk to me, be friends with me, be in a relationship with me whether platonic or romantic, because they like me for who I am. My real friends didn’t give a shit if I couldn’t help with every single problem, or if I didn’t drop everything I was doing to answer a text within ten seconds. I don’t need to not only text constantly but be interesting the whole time to stay friends or even more with someone. I don’t need to be awake for every possible amount of time it’s possible to talk to someone else for them to feel loved and important. On the same note these people shouldn’t have to constantly affirm that everything I am doing is correct; I need to act for myself, I need to feel like I am enough, I need to understand that they love me for who I am and not only because I can perform these actions and I have to perform them perfectly for them to still love me. The last girl I made these mistakes with just rebagelled a post actually that I will quote here because I actually feel it for myself now instead of just knowing it’s a healthy thing to think:

“If your friend is crying over a break up in the middle of the night, and you have a Psychology final at 6 AM.. it’s okay to choose the test and support her in the morning. If you’ve promised someone that you would see a movie with them but stayed up all night coughing your brains out.. it’s okay to reschedule. You do not need to feel obligated to sacrifice your own self for the sake of someone else all of the time. The only person I was born to nurture is me.”

— disappoint people and be okay with it (what I’m learning)

And what that means to me is that I am first when it comes to me, and that those people that love me and support me that I have found and been able to surround myself with are not going to leave me just because I can’t be completely there for them all of the time without any sort of hesitation. I can’t throw myself away for other people, no matter how much I love them and care for them and look up to them and respect them. I can’t treat those I love like they are so far above me when they are trying to be with me. 

I do not give a single fuck how fucking ridiculous that sounds, how easy for some people it is to realize that, how stupid I must be to not have been able to see that with my own fucking brain for nearly twenty-one years, but this is not a joke. I had this epiphany today, and I feel wonderful having come to the realization. I cried today when I was standing in my room and I managed to come up with the words that explained how I felt to the core: “I want to be myself.”

I was on a completely different page with so many people for so much of my life without even realizing it. I was trying to be the most desirable individual in their lives so that they would never want to let me go because I was afraid of them letting me go and all that did was either overwhelm them in such a way that they couldn’t take it any longer or gave them means to just take and take and take from me until I was just a shell of what I once was. I did these things, I let people do these things to me. I hurt people by trying to help them because I didn’t think that what help I was able to provide normally, the help that they were expecting, the amount of help they could conceivably expect from another human being on their level, was not enough. I didn’t think I was enough, even though I thought I didn’t think that I still thought that because I couldn’t get over those deeper thoughts in my mind that tell me no one will ever love me for me, no one will ever care unless I give so much of myself that there’s nothing left for me.

Now I want to be myself. I don’t want to be afraid of what people think of me anymore. I mean, I’ll always be nervous for job interviews, or meeting new friends, but that’s not what I’m getting at. I don’t want to fear that my mother doesn’t like the way I’ve swept the floor and that she’ll love me less for not doing it exactly as she would have. I don’t want to fear that sending an email to a good friend will push her away from me just because I can’t always read her tone accurately. I don’t want to be this stupid motherfucker that feels like he has to make every single day of someone else’s life the new best day of their life just to keep them interested, or like every single random conversation, long-winded goodnight, or description of someone’s picturesque beauty has to be better than the last just to be able to ensure that they will want to hang out again. Just the same, I can’t expect every kiss emoji to be returned, every I love you to be heard, every hug to be as tight and long as the last, just to hold the belief that this other individual actually loves me. 

I feel so stupid for not being able to get that through my head. 

I forgive myself and will work hard to not repeat my past mistakes.

I want to be myself. I want to write until my hands hurt, I want to feel comfortable singing at the top of my lungs (or a respectable volume given context) no matter who’s around to hear. I don’t want to be embarrassed of the things I love unless it’s in a cute sort of way that people pick on each other sometimes like I always pick on my guy friends when they have unconventional sorts of interests. I want to talk about the things I love and not feel like I’m boring or annoying someone just because their eyes are wandering. I want to trust that the people who love me will love me no matter what (barring extreme circumstances) and that the people who still want to be my friend after seeing my quirks and hearing my interests, after knowing how strange I am, will be by my side until the bitter end. These are not things that those friends can do for me, these are things that I have to accept, things I have to feel, things I have to trust. I need to feel important, I need to believe that my help is enough, no matter how much or how little it happened to be at that time. I need to see that I should not have to work my ass off doing everything possible to make myself feel like I’m doing something in order to feel as if I am appreciated. 

There are times where I have done so many things for someone in hopes of being the greatest thing in their life. I worked my ass off to allow for certain events to happen, I was always around, always there to help with menial tasks and attempt to take it beyond what was asked, and to be honest: a few of those people I did those things for never even knew who I was. The tasks I worked so hard for, that I put so much of myself into, weren’t even noticed. They did nothing for the relationship that I was trying to build, all they did was take away from what I had for myself. 

I’ll always remember a girl, Donna, who I tried so hard to make happy in every way that I could and I always managed to just make myself look creepy due to comically bad timing. I did everything I could to try to brighten her day and all I succeeded in doing was making her uncomfortable. 

I’ll probably never forget another girl, Abby, who I worked so hard to please her family to try to have them accept me, who I wrote enormous notes to multiple times a day which were probably some of my best writings to date. I tried to help her see in what ways her family was hurting her and in what ways she should probably try to break free and find new pieces of herself, but she only took and took, likely just enjoying the dedicated attention of an older boy. 

I was putting parts of myself into these people, but I was not myself. I was attempting to impress them, attempting to change something about them to make them happy as often as possible at my own expense. I created unsustainable relationships, in some cases before a relationship was even formed, just because I wasn’t confident enough in myself to know that everything would be okay, or at least turn out the way it ultimately should, if I could just behave normally; be myself. 

Today has been my first day taking my new medication. I feel like I can think more clearly. I feel better about myself. I hope it’s not a placebo effect just because this is my first day taking it, though I haven’t had any positive placebo effects in the past, so that’d be a wild new experience. I’m not sure if I would have been able to come to this epiphany today without the help of said drugs, but I don’t feel like less of a person if that is the case. I don’t feel like less of a person for being able to cry today and work through the associated problem with the assistance of a drug. I don’t feel as if anyone should. In fact, I feel better. I feel like I can make strides forward with my mental health as well as my physical health with this new perspective. I feel a little behind, sure, but people have been telling me for months that I’ve got my whole life ahead of me, and while sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, it sure does help to know there are people quite a bit older than me who have gone through a lot less shit.

I still don’t feel like I’m ready to be seriously romantically involved with someone, and I don’t think I will be for quite a long time. I may not know how long a long time is, but I know that it’s definitely not something I should even be thinking about right now. I’ll be resuming my education soon, I’ll be looking for work once I’m ready after I’ve settled into that, and hopefully I’ll have a lot of time to spend with the wonderful friends that I’ve had around me this whole time, working through this with me, keeping me in their thoughts and occasional check-ins as their lives move forward at their varying paces. I suppose if anyone dislikes the adjustments that I’ll be making over the rest of my life, they aren’t really my friend, no matter how much that hurts... but, to be honest, I think that a few people will be happy that I can perhaps see this relationship problem I’ve had a bit more clearly now, and hopefully they can help me stay on track.

To wrap it up, that guy that I talked about in the “intro” of the update: his name is Tim. He watched me grow up, he’s essentially family since I have so little extended family that I would actually consider family. I hadn’t seen him in probably nine years, but I ran into him today. He commented on how I had grown, he shared some stories, we talked for a while, and he accidentally answered a struggle that I had been having with myself for a while. I won’t go into that here, mainly because I don’t want to talk about those sort of “plans” publicly (apparently there are more personal things than my relationship problems), but sometimes people just kind of show up in your life at the right times to keep you oriented in the right direction. 

I think that’s all I really have for now, though. Besides the mention of new medication and a new mindset it wasn’t much of an update, more of an explanation of how I keep fucking myself over with the people I love, but I wanted to put this somewhere. I made a major step today in discovering a new way that I can work on myself. I’m disappointed in how long it took for me to come to the conclusion, but I’m proud that I can say I came to the conclusion at all. At this rate and vector, I’m pretty curious to see where I’m going to end up. Can’t think too far ahead, though--that hasn’t been turning out too well. Instead, I’d just like to keep a positive outlook going one day at a time. 

Update done, peace out.