#just tell me if im posturally doing core work like a normal person even though all my joints wanna be hyperextended

[lawrising-a]

( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

#» death risen ( thread. ) #lilian♡matty » i understand what love never could . i forgive what love never would ( pseudoneiric ) #v.ddlc ★ and the boy who loves you the wrong way keeps weakening #pseudoneiric #tw suggestive #( okay so. i think this pales in comparison to your amazing answered ask. like pales so hard ) #( but i hope this was a delight to read regardless !! ) #( thought it was time to reply to this. a lil warm up gift for lilian's bday <3 ) #( have some matty being lovestruck and a bpdcore mess for an entire response! ) #( and oh! hope its alright lilian was like. in the bathroom. she seemed shaken from being so open that i thought she'd need a breather ) #( if thats dumb im sorry </3 ) #( ANYWAY hope this was good ik i said i wouldnt write but i lied. its lilian day )

[kindest-way-to-say]

okay so. i’m just gonna rant. about some pain i’ve been experiencing for a while. like, we’re getting into it

if anyone would like to put in their two cents, feel free. im kinda just yelling about my problems into a void, but im definitely not gonna stop people who might know what this is from giving me advice.

idk. my brains shutting down a bit.

TDLR: my left arm has been in constant pain for three days. it’s probably nerves or something. i’m very addled rn. i hate the world i want to sleep for a millennia. i also have had similar, smaller pain issues over a course of 4 months. i hate it here. i would very much like this to not be a thing, please.

so this story starts the mid may. my last month of school. i’m suffering through just to end this bullshit. but i notice that p much every time i have to do some slightly more than normal walking, some random body part of mine will just be in this sort of dull pain.

and i just kinda go. huh. okay. ow. and brush it off. this continues. it’s pretty minor, (like barely a 1/10 on a scale) but enough for me to be mildly annoyed by it on occasion.

go to two weeks before my school lets out for summer.

i get appendicitis and have surgery for it. i’m fine. that situation went better than expected, i was just not the most comfortable.

appendicitis pain traditionally presents in the lower right quadrant of the abdomen. right next to a shit ton of nerves. and the pain i’m going through starts to affect my leg. can’t really walk without alarms going on.

it gets better. i’m not like. comfortable, but i’m just taking ibuprofen a few times a day and managing decently. 3.5/10 pain level average.

but then, as i start going out and living life as a teenager in the summer (hanging out with one person semi-regularly, and doing weird family lunches), i start to notice that most times i leave the house, i’ll come back home with some pretty decent pain in assorted parts of my body.

like my back will hurt, which i just blame on my shit posture. but then it’ll be a weird muscle connected to my ankle or some shit when i am very well known for hating any and all sports except for hockey. which i don’t play.

so i’m not doing things to pull muscles, but i’m feeling twinges of pain kind of a lot. which sucks.

but i brush it off, now consciously keeping an eye on it and taking ibuprofen when needed.

pain levels steadily rise over time, but it’s still at about a 4/10 for the most part. there’s the occasional spike to a 6, but that’s not frequent.

keep going on to mid-july. every time i leave the house, i’m feeling dull ache/twinges in multiple places and my knees feel really fucking off a lot of the time. almost like if your knees were crooked or something?? idk.

but it’s still 5.5 on the worst day. so i just kinda hesitantly mention this to my mom. who’s used to me complaining anyway, but i make it clear that it’s been going on for a while, and it feels like somethings wrong.

and she says “oh yeah we can think about seeing a doctor.”

and i just. okay! cool. fun. rad. sick. vague pain. that’s my favorite activity. i love everything about this.

but i just grit my teeth and bear it. still doing the ibuprofen thing when my ignore it and distract yourself strategy doesn’t work.

now, end of july. trucking along. i’m at least in mind discomfort pretty much all the time. sucks. hate it. i’m concerned.

go to the 31. i pull a crazy all-nighter because i have chemical imbalances in my brain and shit just happens. i stay up for like 44 hours. wild. i sit at my desk for a while, drawing and i notice “wow my left shoulder doesn’t feel that great. huh. i have been sitting here for a while.”

so i go do something else but it doesn’t feel fantastic. almost like a buzzing in parts of my back and my upper arm. on my left arm. i am right handed. don’t know what that’s about.

go to sleep sunday night, i wake up to it just being worse. (also i have some weird circulation problems because of genetics. just random shit. no pain whatsoever. just funky.)

like wtf that’s a 4 right as i’m waking up. what the actual fuck. don’t like that.

but i was raised catholic so none of us talk to each other. so i just joke about my body organizing a shitty coup d’état to a friend and chalk it up to a fucked up muscle. but it’s like kind of moving?? a bit?? weird as fuck. don’t like it. still dull pain, but certainly something that pops up into my conscious mind like 10 times a day.

i didn’t do anything would result in a pulled muscle (trust me. my school is really intense about theatre and show choir. hard core choreography in everything that i practice 3 times a week during school+whatever play/musical) so i’m really just making excuses to soothe my brain and i know it. full denial.

i took ibuprofen the first and second day. can still tell it’s happening, but it sucks less.

yesterday i play a shit ton of guitar, and i can feel my upper arm cramping up and shit (which. oW. 5.7/10. WHAT THE HELL.) even though there is no strain on my left arm except for pressing my fingertips into some strings. no shoulder shit going on.

so i try to stretch out. no help.

and then the adhd medication instead of sleeping medication debacle happens and i don’t go to bed even though i actively tried to multiple times. i write a poem instead.

hurts mildly the whole time. it starts kind of limiting the functions of my arm. which. what the actual fuck. stiff, a bit seized up in especially bad pain moments.

i get focused on writing a poem and shit i only 20 minutes to get ready to leave for my appointment.

i forgot to take any ibuprofen, and it was already reaching 5.85 levels from sitting in my room.

in the car and in the orthodontist office, my left arm is completely fucking useless to me. half of my brain at all times is focused on like “oW OW OW OW OW” because it’s reached a point where i can’t really ignore it. it’s just there now. moving it isn’t great, it sitting in place isn’t fun either.

i’m at 6.5 levels. from the round trip of like 20-ish minutes, it’s raised that much. a lot of internal dialogue about it.

on the way to the orthodontist, i’m talking to my mom about it. she, sounding kind of annoyed, asks “what, do you want to see a doctor?”. i say “honestly? yes. it’s been 3 days nonstop. steady rise. there’s something genuinely wrong. i’m concerned about it.”

it feels like someone is poking around inside my arm with electricity or some shit. whole arm. shifting localizations and slight fluctuation in pain level. rapid escalation even just today.

i explain what it feels like in less wordy terms. and she says “that’s sounds like it could be nerve-related.”

it’s been three days. i’m exhausted. this has already taken a pretty significant mental toll, let alone discomfort level.

i have a high pain tolerance. i only started actively complaining about appendicitis pain the night before it exploded. that shit festers longer than overnight. i had been i pain for half the week before i said shit. and i just kinda sucked it up until i felt like i couldn’t walk without needing hella support.

but it’s really fucking getting to me. shit ton of weird tension, buzzing. just. constant painful buzz moving around.

i express this. “it’s a non-stop pain bad enough to be something i am fully aware of at any given second. if i stare off, im probably thinking about my arm.” and she kinda dismisses it.

it’s been like an hour, and i’ve gone up to 6.8 levels multiple times. based on patterns, it’s not just gonna stop any time soon, and i’m really good at working around weird problems like this.

like i said. pain every time i go out.

i’m good at hiding when i’m not 100%, but this is beyond me. it’s like someone’s just stabbing me with tacs over and over again. on my entire left arm and on the rare occasion, part of my leg.

i’m so genuinely uncomfortable, and i would this to not be a thing anymore.

#long post #uh. help? #oW OW OW #ITS LIKE SOMEONE IS PLAYINH FUCKING OPERSTION ON ME #sorry this is so gigantic #rip my arm ig?? #i’m already disabled my body doesn’t need to betray me like this #bitch tried to kill me once already and failed so it’s back and trying again and iT SO MUCH FUCKINB WORSE THAN THE FIRST TIME #HHHHH