[Hey all, the likelihood of me returning to Elliot is very slim. Meanwhile, I invite you to add my active muse. He’s an OC who’s come to mean a lot to me, and fits best with horror type storylines but can adapt. He’s @ghcstmagnet . Hope to see you over there. Love, Felix.]

OOC

- I'm still alive. - I'm working on getting back to things now that a major source of creative block is gone, but please understand that I owe more here than anywhere and need to figure out my course of action for catching up. I don't like dropping there but may drop the really old ones where I'm stuck or whatever. If I do, we can totally start a new thing. -Included with owes are all drafts, asks, and promised starters. -Unrelated but autocorrect wanted that to say "penises" instead of promises (and did so again just now). -I have two Cybersecurity courses under my belt now so the knowledge for IC shit is growing. Don't be surprised if in plotting I get tech oriented. -As soon as I hit "post" I'm going to bed. -I need to check the date but it's around 2 years I've been writing Elliot. I may take a lot of breaks but it's devotion.

uponaredwheelbarrow:

Noon. That wasn’t too bad; he’d slept til 2:00, 3:00, even 4:00 PM before after getting that stoned. Or, sometimes he wouldn’t sleep at all, not if his anxiety was high. What does that say about Tyrell, that I was relaxed enough around him to sleep next to him? What does that say about me?

The truth was, he felt something when it came to Tyrell. It was difficult to pinpoint. He liked the other even though he felt he didn’t deserve the same in return. As for trust, there was as much there as there could be, though Elliot would never fully trust anyone, not even himself (especially not himself). And then there was something else, something different, something not bad but not identifiable yet. There was a bond, that much he could say for certain. An inexplicable bond.

Who’d have thought after everything, that would be there? Does he feel it too? Or is it just me?

“Sometimes,” he said, sitting up, fingers pushing back through his hair, hand moving quickly to stifle another yawn. “Don’t always sleep though.” When morphine had been part of his life, that had often been used as a sleep aid, but no more. Weed, that was the hardest drug he’d do; withdrawal was something he didn’t want to deal with again, nor did he want Tyrell to see him so weak. Why?

“You’re not the type to sleep in, are you?” It was more a statement than a question, Elliot not a mind reader – simply good at reading others. He knew the kind of man Tyrell was, at least, he thought he did.

@uponaredwheelbarrow || Continued from here.

The weed had been much needed. The event itself, sitting there, getting high with fucking Tyrell Wellick had been surreal, but then again, everything was surreal for Elliot these days. For once, he retained more memory of the night before: they’d lit a joint, gotten high, had another. They’d relaxed, they’d talked, and it was the closest to comfortable Elliot had been around him. He’d been able to tell him how he did feel bad for him, how he never meant for Tyrell’s life to get so fucked up because of him and what he’d done. He’d told him how he wanted to fix things, for all of them. He even told him about how in prison, he’d dreamed of a future where they were all happy…Tyrell included.

Like with any situation where a heavy amount of drugs had been ingested where that drug led to relaxation, both had grown tired. At the time, it hadn’t seemed weird to share Elliot’s bed. Both had been talking (exactly about what, he couldn’t remember), and then he’d slipped off to sleep. The amount of THC in his system seemed to keep Mr. Robot at bay for once, a good thing given his company.

As he came to, this was his recollection. A good thing, as he heard the soft, familiar voice saying his name. And though by now the high had worn off, he felt, oddly, relaxed. It was like waking up next to Shayla after they’d… only that wasn’t the case here. Reaching up and rubbing at his eyes, he yawned. “Hey,” he said, not sure what else he could say. “Time is it?”

[So apparently Tumblr resets your account to put your viewing on Safe Mode if you haven’t been super active in a while. It’s done this to me on two accounts. Weird.]

uponaredwheelbarrow:

      Elliot himself hadn’t slept much that night, but there’d been moments in and out of it. Thankfully, Mr. Robot had left them be, so far as Elliot could tell. Resting back on the bed, tired from the combination of stress and poor sleep, he didn’t fully believe the other’s answer, but accepted it.

     “I do remember,” he said quietly. “You were crying. It’s okay…I cry sometimes too.” He didn’t know how Tyrell felt about others seeing him in such a state, so it was important for Elliot to let him know that he didn’t buy into the whole ultra masculine, sensitivity is bad bullshit. “So I stayed here, to make sure you were okay.” It was the best way Elliot could not just apologize, but show caring.

     “Did you sleep okay?”