|𝙰𝚐𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜| 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚖𝚙 (Retired)

🍭𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎..𝙸'𝚖 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢🍼 schlatt

Littlespace:🍭Toddlerspace🍼

Little: 🐏Schlatt🖤

\\Tw: Little drinking, Twitter 😒//

((Yes. I'm putting a TW for Twitter- cause, doesn't it deserve one at this point?))
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Schlatt was sat on the couch, his eyes scanning his phone screen, he read through his Twitter feed. Why not? Maybe one of his friends are doing something interesting, I mean- they aren't but why not just stay on for a bit. Mistake.

After a while, schlatt saw a thread that caught his attention. It had his tags attached to it, so it was related to him. He read through, frowning at what he read. His brows furrowing in a mixture of frustration and sadness. The thread called him horrible and vile things that he wasn't..calling him words that schlatt slowly began to forget the meaning off, while still knowing they were bad. The boy was slowly regressing the more he read, his eyes watering as he kept reading.

Soon the ram was on the edge of littlespace, only thing keeping him from slipping was himself. 'You don't deserve to feel small' 'you barely deserve your platform.' A voice crept into his head, 'Do it. You know you want to..it's the only thing that will help you..' the voice spoke to him, saying something along those lines at least twice. It didn't take much convincing to get schlatt to do as the voice said, the ram soon got off the couch and began to toddle his way to the kitchen..he opened a glass cupboard that contained Alcohol.

The boy had started regressing as a healthier coping mech, though he didn't fully abandon drinking. He'd do it on special occasions, like parties or just a very nice dinner...today was the exception. The male pulled a bottle of Grey Goose from the cupboard, and pulled off the cork. He stared at the large glass bottle and held it up to his gentle plump lips, tears swelling in his eyes as the bitter taste did not please his regressing taste. Yet he still drank, the smell almost nauseating him. He sat on the floor, his two hands holding onto the base of the bottle like he would to a baby bottle. He just wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, the liquid tasted so bitter and horrible, it left a burning feeling in his mouth and throat.

The little began to sob as he held the bottle, pulling it away from his lips. he began crying out for his 'Mama' or his 'Bunbun' yet no one was coming to his aid, no one was rushing to his side to pick him up and give him cuddles. No one was taking the bottle from him, and replacing it with a bottle of warm milk..no one was there to help. He was alone, with only himself and his sobs. Everything around him began to go staticky. His brain only focusing on what he felt in the moment, how alone he was.