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dirt-apple-productions · 3 years

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This megapost will be updated twice a day until NaNoWriMo 2021 is done. Minimal, microscopic spoilers for Seraphite. Alura, one of its predecessors, is available here and won NaNoWriMo 2019. Starwalker is still with betas atm, but should be out around February.

For those unaware, Seraphite is a post-canon story meant to redeem Shadow Weaver and condemn the glorified suicide that was portrayed in the show. I haven’t come up with a good synopsis yet.

Day 1: November 1, 2021

So far, things have been sailing smoothly. At the last minute, I decided to mess with the prelude letters and change the author entirely. I don’t normally do this, but I think it works because this is the final act in my trilogy.

I’m not used to writing Adora’s point of view. I’ve done multiple character studies on her, but because she’s the lead of She-Ra, she’s a bit tricky to write since there’s not a lot of wiggle room with her POV like Shadow Weaver and Micah. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it soon, though.

This scene was very interesting to write. My intention was not for it to be erotic in any way (although some of my alpha readers interpreted it that way back when the idea was in the germinal stage). Rather, it’s supposed to show a “rebirth” of sorts, and in my opinion it fits very well with the title of Part 1: “Grave to Cradle”.

Right! My word count for today was 3,256 words.

Day 2: November 2, 2021

Well, today got off to a rough start. I woke up at 4:30 am and I’m downright miserable, but I still managed to write 1,418 words in my first session. A lot of it is garbled, emotional bullcrap about Catra, but at least I got the words on the page. Once I start Draft 2 I’ll be more judicious about writing when I feel like garbage.

On that topic: Catra. Although this fic is from Shadow Weaver’s POV as the lead, I wanted to show that not everyone forgave Shadow Weaver even when she chose to change. While I don’t think this is ideal - people should let go of grudges even if there’s no reconciliation - it does happen in real life, and one doesn’t have to be forgiven in order to be a better person. I also had a lot of beef with Catra’s arc in Season 5 and felt like it was broken on a fundamental level, so I wanted to complete it in a more honest way, rather than relying on the “pure catgirl uwu” image we got in Season 5. That to me justifies her actions, and I want to show a struggle for redemption on her part just as much as Shadow Weaver, especially since they’re supposed to parallel one another.

I went back in the afternoon and wrote another 927 words. Tried to squeeze out the last bit of Adderall from my system before I fell asleep again. These scenes dealt a lot with Micah’s psychosis and how it affected him post-Beast Island. I think that it was mild in S5, to the point where he might see a rat scurrying along the walls every so often when nothing’s there, but after Shadow Weaver died it got much worse. I never liked how the show refused to show any meaningful interactions between them, so Seraphite will have many of those.

Today I wrote a total of 2,299 words. My total currently is 5,555 words.

Day 3: November 3, 2021

Today was off to a slow start, but upon waking up (after a much better night of sleep), I wrote 979 words. Though I’m not exactly worried about meeting my WC goal each day - I usually end up writing twice or 3 times as much as what’s required, and even if I did miss it, I could fall back on that to survive with 50K+ - I’m finding that I have a very large succession of short scenes all at once. I’m not sure this is normal or good for the story, but if it doesn’t work, I suppose I can just change the beginning. I’ll have to do that anyway because the pacing is REALLY janky starting out.

I think in this story the biggest defining feature has to be directionlessness. So much of the world has changed since Prime’s defeat - heck, even the supercontinent was split into many smaller pieces, not to mention how much our characters have lost to the war. Micah in particular has had it especially rough. He’s lost his wife, his old teacher, and Glimmer is having a hard time reconnecting with this strange man she’s never met before. The only person he has is Nell, his doctor and companion.

Speaking of Nell, I realized some people are a bit confused about him. He’s my OC, obviously. He plays a major role in Starwalker so I won’t spoil too much for you all, but suffice it to say that he’s in love with Shadow Weaver and he’s also Micah’s best friend. There’s a lot more to his story, but you’ll have to RAFO once Starwalker is out. :P

I returned for two more “mini sessions” to write, because I was tired and panicked that Seraphite would end up badly written. I think that I’ve narrowed down the outline errors to the following: 1.) too many points of view, 2.) jumping into the action too early, 3.) just not enough scenes in general, and/or 4.) the time gap between Seraphite and Starwalker being so large that I probably need to write the memories first. Luckily these are things that can be easily solved with minimal reworking to the outline, so I think I’m going to keep writing.

Today I wrote a total of 3,229 words. My current total is 8,784 words.

Day 4: November 4, 2021

Today was the day to write a scene about the Velvet Glove! First session yielded 1,267 words. My writer’s block is much lower today because I know that the outline is fixable and I’ve been revising it as I go (if you guys don’t have Campfire you seriously need to get it - it’s a literal lifesaver when dealing with outlining and stuff).

As far as content goes, I’m very much enjoying the idea of Hordak’s clone rehab airship picking up survivors from the Velvet Glove (Tree). My friend and beta-reader @luna-tiel has already offered her OCs to me, and I’m planning to get more information on that before I keep writing. I figured it was the best way to repay her for all she’s done for me since reading Alura last year!

Bonus: have a snippet from Catra that’s an ode to the wonderful Entrapdak fandom.

Second writing session yielded 1,548 words, bringing my total word count to 11,599! I’m getting more confident in my ability to write this draft and do it well enough so I have a schematic for the rewrite.

I’m enjoying Catra a lot more than I thought I would. Her point of view skews a lot similar to my own in how I’ve characterized her, and her dialogue is very fun to write. I’m having her bounce off of Nell a bit (if you don’t know much about him, take a look at this fic, as well as this one too for a general idea of his characterization), and it’s SUPER AWESOME. They’ve got such interesting interactions!

Catra: Dad (derogatory).

Day 5: November 5, 2021

Woke up feeling fine (aside from swollen eyes because of a school-related meltdown yesterday 🥲), and I chugged 1,671 words this morning. My anxiety about the story has decreased heavily. The only thing I have to worry about now is the introduction and whether I need to subtract POVs, but that’s an issue for future Joye I suppose.

I’m really, REALLY thanking my writing software for existing and helping me so much. I will never get over how easy it is to revise the outline as I go if I sense more scenes need to be added next draft. That was by far the best thing about switching to a digital outline. Tip for all my NaNo buddies: if you win, you’ll get sales on writing software, classes, and more - and Campfire is one of the possible discounts! Depending on the amount of worldbuilding you do, the software can be $50-$75 USD, but it’s totally worth it!

If there’s one thing that I wanted to explore thoroughly in Seraphite, it’s the idea that returning to the past is sometimes impossible. All the character arcs demonstrate this to a degree. Realistically, I think that not everyone survived the unchipping process, especially Illuras since it was one of the first places Horde Prime destroyed and invaded. This scene does a lot for Adora in my mind because before, she’d held onto the reassurance that she was able to save everyone - and that helped her hold it together after Shadow Weaver’s suicide. But not everyone can be saved, and the only thing one can do is their best before they need to move forward, both for their own sake and that of others.

I didn’t end up writing more today because I had so much school to do, but I still wrote just above the word count goal and I’m sitting pretty at 13,270 words, so I think this day was still a success.

Day 6: November 6, 2021

I woke up and wrote 787 words, which is honestly way too low. I’m not sure why writing Adora’s point of view is so hard for me (if anyone is willing to let me bounce ideas off of them, please let me know), but it’s making all her scenes extremely short. I may need to seriously rework her chapters. Actually, that probably will absolutely need to happen. I need to reorganize the POVs way better for this rewrite because it feels like the story is way too thin.

I’m not going to be giving specifics due to spoilers, but I’m taking heavy evidence from the Steven Universe episode “Storm in the Room” for something major that happens in Part 3. I’ve been brainstorming this idea pretty much ever since I’ve decided to write Seraphite, and it’ll be wonderful to have it come to fruition.

Scarcely half an hour later, I went back to writing and did 1,807 words, bringing my total for the day to 2,594 and my overall total to 15,864. I’m thinking that I either need to add a lot more meat to Adora’s subplot or just have it so she’s aboard the Gossamer, and I’m not sure how much more I can develop this subplot exactly. Ah well. Notes for next time, I suppose.

Day 7: November 7, 2021

I woke up at 5 am and was able to pump out 1,125 words. I only have about 300 left to go, but given that I’m an overachiever, it’s probably going to be way more than that.

I’m finding as I write that Seraphite is much more a sequel to Season 5 of She-Ra than it is a sequel to Starwalker. I know that sounds weird, but it takes place after so much time that I feel explaining things would be fruitless. I can’t do much except recommend the show to others, but given that I prefer my writing to be accessible to everyone regardless, it’s a little disappointing. But I have to let the book be what it wants to be, so that’s that.

I went back about an hour later and wrote another 1,791 words, bringing my daily count to 2,916 words and my overall total to 18,780. I’m thinking that I might try a Stormlight-Archive style of POVs where I focus on different points of view depending on whose arc needs the most work. I think that may make the process of setting everything up more manageable.

Razz is so fun to write! People have asked me how I’m able to write her so well. My answer: I snort a big load of this guy before I go to write. Always.

Day 8: November 8, 2021

Well, I woke up at 3:30 am, because why not? Seriously though, this is one of the worst nights of sleep I’ve had in recent memory. I was able to get 1,297 words in on my first session, but most of what I wrote I wrote with my eyes closed. Why? Because I knew whatever I wrote would be garbage, so I decided I didn’t have to look at it. Plus, I would have just kept deleting everything I wrote over and over again.

Getting close to the end of Act 1! I’m definitely going to have to rework the plot on the next go, but just knowing that is actually relieving. Starwalker went through production hell because I didn’t alter the second draft enough from the first, and I really couldn’t take something like that happening again, given the stage of life I’m in right now as an overworked college student.

A few minutes after writing the first session, I fell back asleep till noon. After eating a tuna sandwich and taking my antidepressant way too late, I went to write again. Only 758 words, but at this point that’s exactly what I’m expecting from this crappy draft. Oh well. Total count is 20,835 words, which is pretty good for Part 1.

Tomorrow I finish Act 1! Woot woot!

Day 9: November 9, 2021

While I was talking to my best friend @kriff-the-jedi (who is doing her own NaNo megapost writing a Persona 5 fanfiction), I realized the problem with my outline. It’s the same issue as with Starwalker. The overarching problem is that the subplots feel very disjointed. One rule of thumb in writing is that every plot thread should be intimately connected with the others, and if it’s not, the story will feel “spread too thin”. I was confused at first why I couldn’t manage 6 POVs considering Starwalker 3.0 had 7 of them and I managed just fine, and that’s why. So, yay!

I finished Act 1, writing 759 words on my first session. From here on out I’m going to be avoiding posting snippets of my progress, considering the next draft will be very different on a fundamental level and I don’t want people to judge the fic too early. I’m sure everyone can understand.

During session 2, I wrote another 643 words, bringing my total to 22,237 words. Not the best, but at this point I’ve accepted I’ll need to rework the story’s outline on a fundamental level. I do plan to finish this draft before rewriting it just so I can have some sort of schematic to work with, but truth be told, I’m not exactly worried about the word count. I think I’m finally getting laid-back about my rough drafts.

Day 10: November 10, 2021

Well, I woke up at 4:15 am today because I was crying over math class yesterday and I can’t sleep when that happens apparently. I got 945 words on the page, and now that Adora’s subplot is starting to actually include relevant content, I’m having an easier time with it. Here’s hoping I don’t fall freakishly behind…

Speaking in terms of just general dynamics, I’ve had a very interesting time writing Nell. Nell’s past involves physical parental abuse, and though in the past he was fiancé to Shadow Weaver, the knowledge of what she did to Catra and Adora kind of broke him. He’s having a hard time forgiving her in this story, and considering the direction I want their dynamic to take later on, I have to be very careful not to invalidate his feelings for the sake of romance (which is what I felt like Season 5 did with Catradora).

Wow. Somehow when I went back to write, I managed to write 1,155 words, bringing my total for the day to 2,100 and my overall total to 24,337 words. I’m roughly halfway there! Here’s hoping I don’t have more tricky days where meeting the goal is a pain in the keister.

Day 11: November 11, 2021

Well, I woke up at 4:50 am after going to sleep at 8:30, so that’s still 8.5-ish hours of sleep. I can live with this. (I mean, I always do if it means NaNo.) On my first session, I wrote 1,234 words. It was a very good session and I’m glad I was able to actually write enough to feel like I’m getting somewhere in terms of progress.

I’m going to keep plot details vague to avoid spoilers, but when your story takes a direction you didn’t expect, it can feel so incredibly satisfying. I’m not even mad that I’ll have to rework my outline - I’m just happy that I have new ideas to play around with (and more words to write)! I’m taking a lot of inspiration from Sanderson’s Rhythm of War for this story, and I have no regrets.

I went back after crocheting and watching Carmen Sandiego, and got another 1,367 words down. This brings my word total for the day to 2,601 words and my overall total to 26,938 words. I deleted about half of Part 2 because of that direction the story took, but it’s no big deal. I’m going to be reworking the outline greatly anyway. I am getting close to the midpoint as a result of this change, though. That will signal a turning point in the book.

I think in this book one of the biggest themes is about forgiveness. This should be obvious for a redemption fic, but it shows that even the redeemed villain has to work on it, as well as her support group. It’s tricky, but I can work with it. This will be a good story in the end.

Day 12: November 12, 2021

Finally, I got a good night of sleep. This first session yielded 1,009 words, just above my preferred count for each writing sprint. I’m slowly making mental notes regarding what needs to be changed in the next draft, but knowing this one will be a pile of dog crap is pretty relieving.

I’m finding Catra’s character to be very easy and fun to write, which I wasn’t expecting given I loathed her arc in S5 and became a little bitter toward her because Shadow Weaver was sacrificed meaninglessly for the sake of a ship I didn’t even like. I’ve given her the hobbies of painting and singing in this story, and I think they suit her in a “goth-punk” way.

Went back after doing roughly 4 and a half hours of math, and I nailed another 1,267 words down, bringing my word total to 29,216 words. I had to make a sharp pivot regarding Nell’s character because the way I wrote him yesterday was so out-of-character I developed writer’s block just thinking about it. Luckily I was able to yeetus deletus the scene from the Seraphite Draft 1 canon, and now I’m doing much better. (No, I didn’t literally delete it. Never delete your work. Always keep a separate doc for cut scenes and all that.)

Day 13: November 13, 2021

I woke up at 6:10 am and wrote 1,132 words on my first session. I’m coming up on the first plot point of my story! Because Seraphite is a 4-act structured story, the midpoint actually occurs at the end of Part 3 (aka the middle of Act 3), instead of the middle of Act 2. I’m having a good time with this story, even if it’s going to be dog crap once I’m done.

I was talking to @kriff-the-jedi yesterday (who is my bestie and if you like Persona 5 she’s your girl). My basic trouble was that I knew this draft was going to be garbage, and the next one I’d have to reoutline completely from scratch. She seemed perplexed that I was doing NaNo if I thought this draft wouldn’t be a functional schematic, but we do have very different writing styles (I’m a discovery writer). Basically, I do think most of the ideas I have are redeemable, but I need to rework them in order for them to function better on the page and integrate with one another. I need to know what works and what doesn’t just on a fundamental level, and dog-crap drafts can still be useful in that regard.

I went back just before going to bed after doing some great work in math (if I do say so myself), and I wrote 1,793 words. That brings my total count to 32,141 words, and I am loving it! The midpoint is going to be nice even if I hate myself the whole way through this draft because I can finally start writing Nellura fluff. Whoever reads this story when it comes out is in for a real treat.

Day 14: November 14, 2021

I woke up at 5 am because I’ve resolved to finish two objectives of math today and I need to work on that. But not before NaNo! This session yielded 1,318 words, and I got past the midpoint. I’m having a decent amount of fun, but ignoring my writer’s instinct that something is Very Wrong with this draft is pretty difficult.

I’ve been working on this story for two weeks now! That’s pretty crazy. It doesn’t feel like that long, but it is! I’m 66.92% there to my goal, according to my NaNo dashboard.

This first session was a 3-scene one because my writer’s block got in the way today. I realized I had only 755 words written and realized I need to majorly up my game if I want to keep making good progress. I can do this! 👍🏻

I went back after checking on my Animal Crossing town and doing some crochet while watching Carmen Sandiego, as is my morning routine, and wrote 1,141 words. That brings my total word count up to 34,600 words, which is pretty great I’ll say. I’m trying my best to write at least 2,000 words a day, but it’s very hard some days because of how much I’m suffering with this outline. But I must soldier on.

Obligatory disclaimer about not giving too many plot details, but one important thing I had to research for this book was comas. One tender thing I learned was that talking kindly to the person and holding their hand/giving loving touches can sometimes be enough to pull them out of a coma. It’s got the potential for so much fluff in this story. ❤️ I may be struggling but I do enjoy the prospect of writing at least some of my disjointed ideas onto the page.

Day 15: November 15, 2021

Wrote 1,148 words on my first goal! So that’s something!

Well, I’ve reached the absolute. I’ve gotten to the stage where I’m writing random garbage that’s so repetitive it’s mind-numbing. I changed my mind - once I’m done with NaNo I’m going to be aborting this draft. There’s just too much wrong with it that I didn’t consider, so I’m just going to be puzzling that out till January when I go back to edit Starwalker again.

Day 16: November 16, 2021

I woke up at 7 am! Yay! Unfortunately, I have decided to abort this draft and start over. This does not mean I am stopping NaNoWriMo! The rules don’t say anything about working on multiple drafts, so I’m working on outlining the story right now. I can definitely still meet my goal if I miss a few days - I only have 15K words left and they’re going to be easy if I can figure out this stupid outline.

I have to be honest - the hardest part about Seraphite has to be the fact that I’ve been fantasizing about it for a LONG time. Normally this would mean I’d be able to write more passionately, but the problem is that my fantasies are very self-inserted. For example, I sanded down Micah and Shadow Weaver’s relationship a LOT because I personally would want comfort from loved ones after committing suicide and returning from the dead. The issue is that for them, it’s not that simple. I don’t want to turn into Noelle where I project my own desires onto characters for whom it just doesn’t work (that’s how we ended up with that dumpster fire of an arc for Shads to begin with). Thus, I’m going to be putting in conscious effort to write this story with a more nuanced lens.

Day 17: November 17, 2021

I had another good night of sleep! Let’s hope it lasts so I don’t keep falling behind in school. In other news, I’ve re-outlined Part 2 of Seraphite, and I feel a LOT better about this new draft so far. The path the story should take is a lot more clear to me, and I’m no longer feeling like I have to force myself to come up with something.

Assuming that I have the energy after going to lecture today, I plan to outline Part 3 as well. I could take 6 days off to outline and still be above my word count goal (thereby meaning I could still win), but since I’m an overachiever, I’m going to keep plugging away so I can get back to work ASAP.

Day 18: November 18, 2021

I managed to reoutline Seraphite in record time! I will update this post once I update my suffering word count.

Only wrote 864 words today but I already feel like this draft is an improvement. I’m just exhausted as heck and have no concentration abilities right now…

Day 19: November 19, 2021

I woke up at 5 am or so and wrote 1,207 words. I’m definitely still going to win - there are many perks to being such a chronic overachiever that you can win NaNo of all challenges after missing 2 days and straight up not meeting the goal for like, a week.

I’m feeling a lot better about this draft. There’s definitely stuff I still want to change, and I’m still slow-going, but I’m also suffering from intense school burnout so I’m not sure if my writer’s brain is already screaming at me that this draft sucks or if I’m just so tired that getting “in the zone” is hard. Time will tell, I suppose.

I went back in the late afternoon and wrote 1,630 words, bringing my word count up to 39,449 words. Yeah, I’m totally going to ace this contest despite my groove getting thrown off. It happens, but that’s the advantage of being an overachiever.

Day 20: November 20, 2021

After having an emotionally difficult night, I woke up at 7 am and wrote 1,121 words. I don’t really have much comment on this, except to once again shill for my writing software. With the worldbuilding panel I have, I can actually establish “systems”. Basically where you can organize characters, relationships, events, locations, arcs, and more into flowcharts and easily-accessible notes. How does this fit into Seraphite? Well, it makes organizing plot threads VERY easy and simple. I greatly enjoy working with Campfire Pro.

In this draft, I really wanted to rework the outline so Nell and Adora got more page time together. In the pilot draft, I think one of the most troubling things I observed was that I’d set up a relationship between them without actually letting them be in the same location for much of the book - not to mention that later on, Nell is very much focused on Shadow Weaver’s recovery, which already makes reconnecting with her abused daughter very tricky. Long story short, I think I’ve struck a good balance between the two relationships, although this will be the hardest story I’ve ever written by a country mile.

I went back and wrote 1,993 words, bringing my total up to 42,563 words. I’m 85.13% of the way to my goal! I feel very proud for recognizing the issues in my draft very early on and reoutlining in a way that establishes and does more with the established relationships in the story.

This is definitely the day for Dad!Nell scenes. I feel so good about this draft that I’m just going to blaze through it after NaNo so I can get it done. I’m not daring to hope that I can get away with this as the “working draft”, but if that did happen I would jump for joy.

Day 21: November 21, 2021

I woke up at 5 am and wrote 1,062 words, though I think the relatively low count is probably because of my exhaustion and annoyance from not letting myself sleep in. I don’t really have much more to say other than that.

1,278 words! Now my word count is at 44,903. Only about 5,000 words to go! I wrote a trash scene, but eh. Sometimes it happens.

Day 22: November 22, 2021

Despite it being the week of Thanksgiving, I still have to go to lecture. Hooray! At least I got 1,376 words down my first session. It’ll impede my ability to play Animal Crossing, but I’m so close to my goal I don’t mind anymore.

I’m finding that adding a little bit at a time to my finalized “timeline” as opposed to dumping it all in at once and dealing with disorganization later is hugely more helpful. I have it outlined scene by scene already, but finalizing a little at a time makes adding additional scenes loads easier.

I went back this evening and wrote another 1,065 words. This draft is like buttah! The plot is also picking up - I think one of the hardest things about beginning a story with six dynamic characters taking place 12 years after its predecessor is that you need a LOT of space to catch the reader up. And even catch yourself up.

Catra insulting Hordak when he doesn’t speak Meyan like she does is peak comedy. Change my mind.

Day 23: November 23, 2021

I woke up at 7:30 am because I was exhausted and anxious yesterday, and wrote 1,242 words. Due to being 97.17% done with my word count goal, I’m going to try and get to 50K today. Here’s hoping I can do it!

I’m getting close to finishing Part 1 of Draft 1.0. The pilot draft I’ve decided to call “0.1.” I think until I can figure out how to outline stuff better, I’ll have quite a few pilot drafts of future novels, especially considering I’m writing with completely original characters next year.

I wrote another 1,922 words today and updated my count! I have 50,508 words, meaning I have officially won NaNo and am eligible for the sales and prizes. But I’m not done updating this post! I said I would stop once the event was over. And as of now, it is not yet over.

I am enjoying Nell and Micah, though I am struggling with how they feel about Shadow Weaver. It is very complicated and not at all what I was expecting.

Day 24: November 24, 2021

I woke up at 5 am for lecture (because I don’t get a Thanksgiving break 😤) and wrote 1,135 words. It was a bit of a struggle to get over 1K, but I think that’s because these scenes I wrote are shorter by design. It’s nothing to do with the overall mentality or stamina I’ve got. Sometimes, there’s nothing left to say.

Went back after a lecture and wrote 1,595 words! I’m getting close to the end of Part 1, and that’s good news, because it means that hopefully I’ll be more engaged with my draft afterward. It is a slog to write, but not because of plot issues. Mainly just because there’s so much introduction that the action can’t really begin till Part 2. But don’t worry - it’s going to be good.

Day 25: November 25, 2021

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I woke up at 6:30 and wrote 1,070 words. I also completed Part 1 of Seraphite, on the official first draft. I’m still feeling great about this version of the story, and I’m sure things will be better.

For this draft, I opted for a Metroman-Megamind reveal that Shadow Weaver was alive. Because I can.

After stuffing myself with turkey, I wrote another 1,360 words. Currently character interactions are feeling very stilted, but I may be able to fix that with an edit or two. I think Micah might be aware that Shadow Weaver is alive before he goes - that would give them time to cut right to the chase without all the “filler,” so to speak.

Part 2 has begun! I’m hoping for a better time on this draft, considering the pilot draft started becoming literal torture.

I’m up to 19,920 words on this draft (since that’s the relevant information right now). Still very low for one part, but I’m not too worried about exact word count anymore.

Day 26: November 26, 2021

I woke up at 7 am and wrote 1,023 words today. I’m sensing something is still extremely tricky with the way Micah, Nell, and Shadow Weaver are interacting. The point is that the reunion is supposed to be awkward, but right now I can’t tell if it’s awkward because I wrote it that way, or awkward because I myself am having a hard time pinning down exact emotions.

Today I learned via Google that the Roman numeral for 40 is XL. Random, but cool.

I didn’t end up doing a second session because I had to go to the ER for a concussion. Yay.

Day 27: November 27, 2021

I woke up at 8 am (very late for me) and wrote 1,056 words. I think I’m getting better at uncovering my characters’ secrets in terms of their emotions. I think I’m going to keep writing and discovering, and see if there’s anything I can do to make this process better.

At 8 pm, I finished writing 2,062 words. Things are getting very interesting now because I decided to give an important revelation earlier on. Gotta create that juicy conflict, after all! ❤️ My total word count on this draft is 24,063 words.

Day 28: November 28, 2021

I woke up at 5 am for church and wrote 1,079 words. The aftermath of the bomb I dropped on my characters (a bomb that went undropped until Act 3/4 in the pilot draft) is so intense and significant that I’m feeling evil. 😈

Wow! My story SERIOUSLY ran away from me this time. I decided that Catra was going to kind of flirt with the enemy in this story on the spot, and honestly? It’s unexpected, but I like the idea, so into the outline it goes! I’m very excited to see where the story goes with this spontaneous idea in there. But I will absolutely have to alter the outline to accommodate this.

I wrote another 1,753 words, bringing my draft word count up to 26,894. I’m pretty proud of having written half an official “novel” within only 10 days. Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.

Day 29: November 29, 2021

I woke up at 5 am for lecture and wrote 1,264 words over 3 scenes. I’m getting close to the midpoint, and I think the way I’m writing Micah, Nell, and Shadow Weaver’s subplot is passable at least. I sense something is off, but I’m not overly worried about it since it’s a little minor.

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lillian-nator · 3 years

Text

Everything below was made by Me, Eye, and Ethan over the course of like 3 days

Thank you (with additions from sleepy my beloved)

Okay

Wilbur isn’t the oldest

Techno is

But it’s a war run empire, they take pride in their troops and armies and triumphs

The soldiers come first

So Techno is the commander in chief , the general

Wilbur, second born

Is heir to the throne

To the diplomatic side of the empire

and Tommy Gets shit

He doesn’t even understand why Phil had another kid

Of course there is the situation where Techno or Wilbur dies, or one of them steps down, but it won’t happen

Was he really born to be the understudy

he was born as a backup

Tommy was an accident but they’re not gonna let the public know that

like he's the Zuko

Phil doesn't really pay attention to him so his mother picks up the slack

Wilbur is 21

Techno’s 23

Tommy’s 17

However I have a really good idea for prince Tommy, just like what if he doesn’t like the way that people treat him? Like he doesn’t want all these yes men he wants to be he wants to be told now, he want somebody to tell him he that’s against the rules he just wants him like structure he just want someone to hate him he want someone to not like him and say no and tell him that he’s stupid which is why he does all of the stupid shit that he does

Ever since he was like 4

Everyone has said yes

He wants to defy them

He wants to just do something to make someone say no

That and he lowkey

He wants ~~Phil~~ Wilbur to pay attention to him

Is a Little Shit who causes so many problems on purpose to try and find someone who will push back against him

He wants someone to give him structure and discipline but overall he just wants his family’s attention

He’s broken shit, thrown temper tantrums, he’s started fights and he’ll he’s even snuck out and stole things

He’s never been stopped

People consider him snobby and spoiled

He's a brat

He gets everything he wants, but he doesn’t really want it, he just asks to see if they’ll tell him no

Tubbo = Stable Boy

Ranboo = Prince of another country (probably the americas)

Ranboo could definitely fit the role of an overseas royal prince who Tommy sees as a regal, spoiled, uppity little shit. Like Tubbo, who Tommy sneaks everywhere, has met Ranboo and likes him. Tommy can't possibly see why, he's unbearable.

Bench Trio = Best freinds

I think that Tommy and his brothers were always very very close

they just have jobs and shit

They took over Phil's shit

they probably drift apart as they get older, Wilbur and techno have duties and Tommy starts his quest for attention, they grow apart from their little brother without realizing it

Tommy and his mother (kristin) are always and have continued to be close

she definitely chides him, and tells him quietly to not do things for all of his "misbehaviors"

but there is only so much that she can do, because she has the duty to not make a scene

that and she's not who he's looking for attention from

You may be asking "How is crime recognized, identified, discussed, and atoned for?" more specifically, "Is it a 'you stole my bread so without asking anyone I'm cutting your hand off' or is it the US court system" ~~You may also be Ethan~~

The answer is:

like the UKs

But more like

Okay so the Supreme Judicial system, but Phil (and then Wilbur) has teh final say

Court system, but with Phil overseeing everything

instead of a judge

HOWEVER, that's in the national level

in smaller villages, its more of the cut your hand off system

because the judicial system isn't regulated

So bonus questions:

Punishments and the identification of whether a crime counts as a crime?

soldiers can call crimes out, and citizens can file reports

Phil's not really shit, he just doesn't show Tommy any attention because he's busy with the other two

Just honestly doesn't even care about most shit Tommy does

Like, doesn't pay attention to it until it affects him, he's busy running a country and training the boys to running a country

I don’t think they (the brothers) realize how badly everything is affecting Tommy

The only one who knows anything about the full extent would be his mom, and she’s in a similar boat to Tommy

Phil doenst really see her much either

Not like she could “Make a Scene” trying to get Phil to pay attention to his youngest, to actually love his child, he’s barely around

Kristin and Phil spend time together at night, but during the day everything is for the cameras

its like the UK royals, how they do shit just for the people

And Phil doenst want to hear about the kids at night, he wants to spend time with his wife

Tommy has stolen a car and will do it again

Just fucking hopped in and took a joyride

With Absolutely No Repercussions

Do you think Phil ever tries to hire like, a nanny or something? In the aftermath of the Car Incident? Yes, and it never worked

Tommy, like 15 at the time, pissed as hell as a random ass woman tries to tell him to go to bed at 8:30 pm

Tommy wants somebody to tell him no but not somebody hired to tell him no mannn

Tommy goes to like parties - like ragers

he has a network of really famous friends like young actors and shit

dude is a party animal, underage drinking, rumors of drugs, he’s the PR Teams worst nightmare, but they’re not going to say anything

The press makes up SO MUCH SHIT

The press once said that he had done cocaine when it was really one of his friends

Tommy adopts two dogs (hello Betty and Walter) without asking either of his parents

Betty is short for Elizabeth

He brings them in off the street

Literal abandoned street dogs and he goes, mine now

He like, walks down the street with sunglasses on, and just doesn't look at anyone as he walks the dogs, who have like black nice leather leashes

The paparazzi always finds him walking the dogs

like a modern celebrity

Mans can and will call the paparazzi on himself - because he is a drama queen ETHAN Tommy voice "hello pa pa. I have hired two new staff, pa pa." "Huh?" "they have found work in this palace as emotional support animals, pa pa." "....ok." tommy voice "he didn't even blink, elizabeth the fourteenth" END OF ETHAN MAKING FUN OF THE BRITISH

By the way just to clear things up with you all, Tommy addresses Phil as "Father"

most of the paparazzi's pictures of Tommy are him flipping the camera off

He poses for them

just sees a camera and fucking sticks his tongue out and flips them off

He’s wearing some atrocious outfit while walking his dogs and he just has a full on fashion photshoot of poses for them

If his dad won’t give him attention at least they will

Tommy befriends some of the staff

he hates a lot of the butlers tbh

thinks they're stuck up

but likes to gossip with the maids, and sit in the kitchen as the chefs cook lunch "Heyyyy, chef!" "Your highness, what is it, are you hungry?" "Can't a man just talk to his chef? Befriend his castle staff?" "Ah."

that and the kitchen gives betty and walter treats

Top ten Prince Thomas microaggressions

Number One: he calls Phil "your highness"

For context, kings are referred to as Your Majesty

He calls Wilbur Your Majesty

It was a joke when they were younger, a habit from then on, but now it’s to spite Phil

Tommy spends an ridiculous amount of money on clothes all at once, purely to see if Phil would yell at him for using the family debit card for it

He never wears the clothes

He doesn’t particularly like any of them anyways

Instead he donate them all anonymously

Tommy may be a brat but he isn’t wasteful

By the time Tommy’s 12 he’s started acting up, and it escalates slowly until he hits 15 where things just start snowballing and he gets worse and worse

he's definitely nicknamed by the press as some sort of party animal or fratboy

a spoiled brat

He’s 16, and he knows his place in the family, he is forgotten and glossed over, but he won’t be ignored, not if he can help it

The Public gives him the attention he wishes his father would give him, he walks his dogs with the paparazzi tailing after him, just hoping that maybe one scandal or one horrible picture will eventually be enough to make his dad actually See him

he'll tell the paparazzi what they want to hear

and give every magazine a story to tell

they notice him

he just wants somebody to tell him no, somebody tell this boy no without being paid to please

Tommy probably has like, pierced his ears or smth. Gotten tattoos.

he has holes in his face yes.

he pierced his ears and his nose

He has a tattoo on the inside of his finger that matches with Tubbo and Ranboo

Maybe the picture of him plastered from last weekend will make his dad reprimand him

Maybe the weed found in his backseat will get his Dad to ground him

Maybe the bottle of fucking pills he was “holding for a friend” but got caught with Will get some sort of reaction

and its not like he's only doing it for attention

he starts it for attention, but he loves it he does

he has fun, he loves his friends, he likes the parties and the air

but, he also loves the attention, he's not gonna lie

Tommy who took adderall at a party once but it didn’t do anything for him, he seemed to function a little better actually

Tommy who knows Techno has adhd and takes adderall for it, Tommy who puts two and two together Bc he’s not fucking dumb

Tommy realizing his dad never cared to even get him diagnosed or treated

and Techno does notice, he does figure it out, but he does either a "hey..." or a "m8 I'll just get you your own if its helpin you focus" and tommy is furious

Tommy's life here is just

'trying to be yelled at HARD MODE'

Just wants to be screamed at, lowkey

I think, Wilbur avoids the tabloids

And the press

And the news

However, his advisors often read him the shit about Tommy - or anything about him

But they never see the pictures

They don’t see the picture of Tommy drunk on a strangers balcony

They don't see how bad it is

Tommy however? LOVES reading what the press has to say about him

Phil sees it however,

And he’s so disappointed

He gives Tommy so many talks but it never works

Because it doesn’t get him to love Tommy, to care about what Tommy does

Not like their mother

And he never makes a scene, not in the way Tommy wants to

It's all about "YOUR RUINING OUR IMAGE"

not: "YOUR RUINING YOUR LIFE"

He never asks if Tommy is ok

He never asks if he’s safe

Tommy's mum however, SO MANY AWKWARD "STAY SAFE" TALKS

He doesn't just fucking jump off shit because of her, he's slightly less reckless so that he can come home alive to her

I just think that Wilbur, no matter how busy, would find time to concerned yell at his baby brother if he were to find out about the pills

Weed and alcohol? Not great but ok.

Pills though?? He is full blown concerned Wilbro there

His brothers care. Their father is busy. He's a jerk sometimes too.

Wilbur does put out the fire a bit

He’s glad Wilbur had his best interest in mind

But man

The news headlines

They do him dirty

Shit like “Prince Tommy Caught Doing Cocaine at Frat Party” really fuck him over

They really just try their best to make him look like shit 95% of the time

Tommy loves it, just a little

Bad press is still press

He laughs at the headline Bc he knows he wasn’t doing cocaine, but Phil doesn’t, wilbur and techno don’t know that

It’s a tense week after that headline is released

His mom doesn’t even know if Tommy would have actually done cocaine

They just don’t know

Kristin asks him

She’s the only one who believes him

I think Wilbur wants to believe him, Techno too

But it’s hard to, especially when you’re not even sure you know your own brother anymore

Wilbur says something along the lines of being disappointed in Tommy, if he thought Tommy was trying to be better

Tommy scoffs and says he is trying, but that it’s real rich of Wilbur to be or entering to care now

This isn’t even the worse headline

One time a blonde kid got picked up from the same party Tommy was at on a stretcher, he had had an allergic reaction

Some shitty journalist saw and automatically assumed it was Tommy

They ran with the story that the prince had fucking overdosed for at least a week

The things they say are close to the truth but not quite

The PR Team tries their best to help but

They don’t even know what’s true or not

Tommy goes on a bender for a week, and walks into their office with coffee and pastries to apologize

They all know that presents mean a rough week of damage control

But Tommy imports them these Bomb ass donuts so

Fair trade really

Also heaven forbid tommy gets seen with a girl

It’s the worst shit

Tommy gets caught, drunk off his ass, pushing a couch out a window

(To be fair the people were moving soon anyways, they didn’t need the couch, it was a going away party)

And the next morning, recalling what he did

He orders up those pastries and calls the coffee place

Swings by to pick up the coffee and picks up the pastries all within the next two hours and delivers them on the third with an apology note

It’s fucking DAMAGE control

Thinking about Tubbo and Ranboo being Tommy’s DDs when they can

They are

When Tommy’s handler isn’t around

Them doing wild shit together but not Wild Shit

Tommy teaches them how to do burnouts and donuts in a fucking lambos in an empty mall parking lot

Ranboo goes everywhere incognito, Tommy practically flaunts his rank, Tubbo is considered a nobody and doesn't have to do anything but show up in casual clothes. He has a uniform for stablework.

Ranboo's parents are approving of his friendship with the fledging prince, as they hope he can wrangle Tommy to regality and he's building positive relations between the two kingdoms.

Phil is disapproving, worried Tommy will taint Ranboo and his rep and cause a tense air between the two kingdoms. Tommy loves Phil's worry, he practically bathes in it, it's the attention he so craves.

Tommy definitely will hold Tubbo's hand when he walks with him, because the headlines all scream Tommy is the gay?? and while he's very incredibly straight, he finds this hysterical.

Ranboo isn't always in Tommy's kingdom and rather spends most of his time at home. He might be second to heir or the crown prince himself, but he does have to spend time in his own country. Tommy face calls him a lot and he and Tubbo are ecstatic when he announces he's going to visit

I imagine he's second to the throne because that means he can focus on building relations instead of training to be king.

Older sibling Fundy, gets chronic illness, and Ranboo has to take over the throne for a bit

One of Tommy's worst stunts was hitching a ride to the Americas/Ranboo's kingdom without telling anyone.

Whether by boat or plane, he was gonna go visit his young king friend no matter what.

I say "young king" but he's still a prince. Just filling in for fundy

But all eyes turn to Ranboo and Ranboo is stumbling with attention he'd never known. Tommy has to help, doesn't he?

He expects such a punishment for stowing away to visit, but the headlines are... positive. Prince Tommy's friendship with Princr Ranboo becomes.... legendary, practically. Tubbo is always excluded from the news, even when he comes with.

Never too fantastical for classism

But no, the headlines see Tommy's visit not as the young, rebellious prince stowing away, but as a young boy risking his skin to visit his stressed friend.

Tommy is appalled.

And Tommy just groans and shows him the phone

And Ranboo laughs and goes

“There there Tommy, I’m sure dragging me to a frat party will be enough to ruin the good press.”

“Maybe get a dui, you’ll have diplomatic immunity so no jail time?”

“Boo, I wouldn’t get jail time even if I wasn’t em-mune, I am simply too poggers.”

“Sure man, let’s go with that.”

Tommy’s like “maybe I need to actually start doing hard drugs”

Ranboos just like “no -“ just “Please god no, your brothers will kill both of us.”

The Boo is terrified of Techno and Wilbur

Not as royals though, simply as Tommy’s older brothers

Like he knows about Tommy’s issues with validation and feeling unloved, he knows his Brothers are often very busy

But he also sees the way they look at Tommy, and the way they look when people talk bad about Tommy

He knows if something were to happen and he was to cause harm to Tommy or cause Tommy to cause harm to himself

It probably wouldn’t end well for him

Wilbur and techno try as hard as they can

But they’re SO busy

That they can’t do much especially when Tommy’s so persistent on doing his shit

Tubbo is great with the horses he tends to, and Tommy adores them. Ranboo is an excellent, regal rider and Tommy and Tubbo are more rough and ballsy, so races are fair and fastpaced.

Ranboo once got bucked by a royal stallion and Tommy and Tubbo never let him live it down.

I imagine Tubbo lives on the property, as some servants do. He either doesn't have a family, has a bad one, or his family doesn't live close to the palace.

So Tommy 10/10 sneaks to the servants' quarters and he and Tubbo sneak out to ride the horses.

I feel like Wilbur makes more of an effort after the pills and cocaine incident, he tries to ask Tommy about the headlines

Purples is Tommy’s friend

Rich family, old money

Throws a lot of the parties Tommy goes to

Purpled and punz :handshake: Tommy

Frat Boys

I think you guys are underestimating the time that Tommy spends at the castle

Like he still has school, and usually 3 days out of the week he follows around his brothers like an endearing little shit

But those 4 days where he’s gone (which includes weekends) plus nights, he’s doing shit

Also, yiu know Pongo right

101 Dalmatians

That’s how Tommy walks Betty and Walter

They are like standing completely proper and walks straight

ah yes, the royal bitches and also betty and walter are there too

the paparazzi taking pictures of Tommy and the dogs

and Tommy turns, taking his sunglasses off, and smiles big and wide "They have names you know? You should stop callin' them 'the royal dogs'."

One of the guys, he's familiar with the prince turns on his camera and asks "what're their names Prince Tommy?"

"Betty and Walter. Give them some respect."

Tommy visits Ranboo sometimes. Ranboo was looking for him one day and just found him standing in a long hall, staring at a portrait.

It's Ranboo, just barely younger, hands folded behind his back, the perfect picture of regality.

Tommy is staring at it because he knows that at home, there is a portrait of Wilbur looking like that, and one of Techno, and one of Phil and Kristen, and one of himself.

But somehow this image of Ranboo is.. haunting

Not because it doesn't match with the Ranboo he knows, but because it does.

It haunts him because he can stare at his portrait for hours and never see himself, but this is so plainly Ranboo that it's chilling.

Ranboo stands beside him, hands folded behind his back as they always are when he is in nice clothes and his eyes are visible. Tommy glances over and Ranboo is facing him, but staring up at the picture. It's still him.

The clothes are different and his hair is longer now, but Tommy can't tell the difference past that.

He knows that Ranboo is what his family wants him to be

He knows that Ranboo is him if he hadn't strayed, the same past

Ranboo knows exactly what’s going through his head right now

And he knows exactly what he needs too

They get fucking piss ass drunk in Ranboo’s room order takeout and FaceTime Tubbo

They can party tomorrow, Tommy doesn’t need to be in public right now

ANywyas

Tommy and his mother have a wonderful relationship

she teaches him literacy and history, they have a tutor teach him maths

they eat breakfast together every morning

the whole family does

but his mum tries to eat lunch with him at least 3 times a week

he goes out for lunch the days he doesn't eat with his brothers or mom, out to some resturant, sometimes, they trash it or party, sometimes he just brings Tubbo, no big group, and they just chill

With Ranboo in line for kingship (the way royalty works is that if the ruler dies, it will always go to the next in line of blood, never by marriage. Even if every heir was dead, it would still not go to the ruler consort but instead to a family member of the late ruler), rep is so much more important

he can't really be seen with Tommy sometimes

not on the bad weeks

not when Tommy just destroyed a bnb or set off fireworks with his friends, or was caught throwing chairs into his friend's pool

Tommy likes sport cars

big car guys

He has an exorbitant amount of fancy cars

its truly like

disgusting

how many cars he owns

Wilbur makes fun of it Bc the kid is just now legally old to drive

But Wilbur has so many expensive instruments

Some of which he doesn’t even know how to play yet

to be fair

Wilbur doesnt go breaking his instraments

Techno, techno has swords, which makes sense Bc he’s a general

But the amount swords he has just hanging on his wall

Never meant to be used

It’s so many

I feel like Tommy has a few cars that he doesn’t even let get scratched tho much

His babies

he has his expensive cars that he wrecks

and then his expensive cars that he treats like gold

They’re named

Clementine is this horrendous orange car that he absolutely loves

Its a bright orange ferrari

(He loves it Bc it was a gift from Phil, one of the first cars in his collection)

(Tommy doesn’t know that the idea was his mother’s, his father didn’t know what to get him)

all of his cars have padding in the back for his dogs

Tommy hates purse dogs, the girls with them are always fake and horrible

but he wishes his dogs were that small

Easy to transport

but they got all gangly limbs like him

and stand up to his hip

Henry is his sleek black classic mustang convertable

its what he drives when he doesn't want to be followed by the papp

It’s what he drives when he takes The BT to lunch

its not that the paparazzi doesn't know its him

they know

but he's not in one of his bright fucking obscene cars

The press and Tommy have a weird sort of understanding

He creates their headlines and they let him have moments to himself

If someone breaches that

They risk getting blacklisted

that car was what he drove to his grandmother's funeral in

im not naming his grandmother, but all royals live like forever

Clementine barely sees the road I think

She’s kept in top condition

By Tommy’s own hands

But she probably doesn’t get driven to the parties

Or the brunches

Or the clubs

She's used pretty much exclusively for black tie events

Tubbo is his driver for those Bc he trusts no one else with the car

And he has to exit her before she’s parked

So Tubbo valets and then meets him inside

It’s also how Tubbo gets into the black tie events

so its modern right

so its like thousand-dollar suits instead of capes

so, Tommy just refuses to wear blazers and suit jackets

he always wears his button-ups rolled to his elbows

Maybe, maybe you’ll get him in a vest

But most of the time it’s a button up, rolled up sleeves, and the tie is most likely incorrect or untied

The only reason it’s correct half the time, is because Wilbur makes him let him tie it

Tommy won't wear the jacket because he prefers to roll his sleeves up - he's able to do anything, party or just like rough housing with his brothers, or helping out the staff

Wilbur won't wear a tie, or a button up most days, opting for a high-end sweater and loads of jewelry; its just much more his style.

Techno won't wear a vest because it restricts the places he can hid weapons, and he almost never keeps his tie tied.

Tommy trying to walk past Wilbur to leave with and untied tie

“Wait! You know you can’t leave like that, come here.”

Tommy’s groans and slumps over but walks over to Wil anyways

“I’m just gonna untie it halfway through the party, you know i will.”

“Well, I’m not letting my little brother walk a red carpet with an untied tie, you know I won’t”

The second half said in a mocking tone of voice, very clearly mimicking Tommy’s whining

It’s a soft moment, they stand there together, brothers

And as Wilbur’s pat the finished tie, they make eye contact and both of them have undeniably fond looks on their faces, damn they’re brothers n shit

“Thanks Wil.”

It’s quiet, it’s soft, it’s Tommy

“Of course.”

Just as soft, just as quiet, wholly Wilbur

Wilbur clears his throat breaking the soft atmosphere of the room

“Now go, you gremlin. Don’t be late”

Wilbur ruffles Tommy’s hair, careful not to mess it up too much

Tommy rolls his eyes And quickly heads for the door “Bye Wil! Love you! Don’t wait up!” Wilbur quickly yells after him

“Love you too! Don’t do anything stupid!”

“Oh Wil you know I can’t promise that!” Wilbur just rolls his eyes and returns to his book

Yeah Tommy stays away from tobacco I think

Just weed

and I wouldn't be surprised if like hits peoples vapes sometimes, but doesn't smoke cigs

for sure, its stressful

Wilbur smokes cigarettes though

and he can't act out like Tommy can

and Phil loves him..

Techno and Wilbur watching Tommy rebel in the ways they never got to

They feel kinda sad, that they never got to be kids like that, sad that Tommy feels like he has to act out for attention

he gets to do shit

like he gets to be a real teen

the whole, dumb rich 17 year old experience

like yachts, and expensive hotel rooms, and sport cars

And sure they probably wouldn’t have been going to frat parties or crashing brunch places, but they see him with BT

See him have actual friends

And they’re happy for him

But it hurts a bit

And Tommy's hurting too

It's a lot

but its like

even if Phil wasn't shit

its a lot of attention

like everyone is watching them at all times

Techno and Wilbur have to stay refined in the eyes of the press

Tommy gets to put on a show for them

Yeah yeah

Do you know how much a drunk picture of Prince Tommy is worth?

Too much

Some random guy on his first paparazzi job, gets a pic of Tommy, shirt mostly unbuttoned, tie tied around his head, drinking out of a beer bottle, and flipping off the camera while stumbling out of the most expensive hotel in the UK

The guy never has to work again

Purpled son of some billionaire, and Ranboo a literal prince is with him

They are both laughing at him

Tommy swung on a chandelier that night

A picture of that ends up online, some socialites Twitter

The amount of people in her dms for that picture?

Ludicrous

Like just the random pictures from Snapchat stories

Magazines pay thousands

Yeah the amount of double takes people have done going through their friends Snapchat stories like

Just tapping through

“WAIT WAS THAT PRINCE THOMAS????”

So, Dessert Drinks

It’s alcoholic beverages that have like chocolate or gram crackers or maybe candy in them

That are meant to taste like a dessert

So there’s chocolate cake margaritas, or like s’mores drinks

They’re Tommy’s favorite things in the world

Everyone thinks that he’d like the like strong, burning, whiskey esk stuff

But no

He wants the sweetest thing you got

Like he’ll drink straught vodka, but not if he doesn’t have too y’know?

He also like wine strangely enough

The like really expensive wine

Bc it reminds him of Wil

They have it down in the cellar

Techno is the whiskey dude

Or like 1942

Which is just a really bougie tequila

He just likes the shit that burns

Tubbo will drink literally anything

He’ll eat anything too

It definitely comes from the spot that he didn’t have that many choices like Tommy, but he genuinely just likes anything

Which is why Tommy really likes to treat him out to fancy fucking restaurants

One of Tommy’s favorite past times is spoiling his loved one

Fucking loves giving presents n shit

It's his love language

Ranboo doesn’t pay for anything when he’s visiting

Tommy insists on paying

Tommy has millions from the throne, he will use it

Plus he uses his daddy’s card so like, Phil can afford to spend the money

Oh he has one of those black cards doesn’t he

And by he I mean Phil

But you know, Daddy’s card

Black amex all the way

Boujie motherfuckers

Tommy's drunk like persona is different depending on the environment

When its Wilbur and Techno having to deal with Drunk Tommy

He’s like an excitable puppy, he would switch from rowdy to sappy real quick for his brothers

So they’re trying to get a drunk Tommy to bed but Tommy’s 100% clinging to them

Just full of affection

Techno tries to leave to go study and drunk Tommy just looks so fucking sad

Kicked puppy

He’s very much turning on the little brother charm, full scale pouting, whining, nicknames and all

making grabby hands, sitting on thr ground, fluffed up hair, shirt all wrinkled

"Fucking - fine. What are you gonna do without me, hm?"

He’s a god damned puppy and it’s hard to believe this is the same kid who got in a bar fight last week

he hangs off the chandeliers of boogie hotels

he also trashes his friend's rentals

on the other hand, he hugs his brothers

and steals Wilbur's crown

when he wears Will's crown it goes over his eyes

Still does after all these years

He’s grown but Wils head is simply too big

Tommy has his own crown of course

he just doesn't wear it as often as Wilbru does

Wilbur wears his all of the time

Tommy wears his when

A. he's drunk and with friends

B. at formal or royal events

he likes wearing it when he's partying

still thinking about drunk Tommy and his brothers having to deal with him

He makes techno give him a piggy back ride

He can walk fine, he just wants a piggy back ride man

Can you blame him?

They all really miss being little

They miss being able to be kids n shit

when their mother took care of them

and their father did all the king shit

And when Techno would give Tommy piggyback rides in the garden

When Wilbur had all the time in the world to learn how to play guitar

Even if it comes from Tommy getting drunk off his ass they’re glad they can still find the childish joy that they once had y’know?

Techno gives Tommy a piggy back ride to his room, and Tommy steals Wilbur’s crown and they talk and it’s nice

And as everything winds down Wilbur plays his guitar

And it’s so similar to when they were younger man

...

but then,,, Wilbur gets called down for an emergency meeting

and Techno has to make sure the guards are doing their rounds

and Tommy's left all alone in The Prince's Chambers

and people wonder why Tommy likes partying

fills the time, doesn't it?

He wakes up cold and alone and hungover

And he calls Tubbo and they just fucking day drink man

It’s a bad two days

Yeha but basically after this night he and Tubbo get fucking drunk as hell and they don’t come back to the castle for two days

And Tommy is barely sober during those two days

After those type of days happen Tommy always goes completely straightedge for a week

He doenst need to develop an addiction y’know?

Plus the chaos doesn’t have to happen drunk

He’s pretty irrational sober anywyas

half of the parties he's at he's not even drunk

sometimes he'll get high

but he just likes the adrenaline

and just hanging and being fucking assholes with his mates

POV you are an emotionally wrecked prince who is hanging onto this present as proof that your dad knows who you are at least in the slightest and you find out it’s not actually a gift from him but something your mother told him to get you

He didn’t even think twice just called the dealership and asked for the car, didn’t even know which one it was

mmmmm Tommy wrecks Clem that night

It’s not a good night for anyone

Got drunk as hell man

No dd

Car crash

I don’t think Clem is totaled

And Tommy is ok

But she’s scratched and dented and it’s just a representation of how Tommy feels

Something about Clementine being symbolic of hope and the idea that his father knew him

And with that crashing down

Clementine was bound to crash too

Tommy gets out with some bruises and Clementine can be fixed

But it happens on a public street so it’s everywhere

Tommy wrecks Clem

Then fucking goes on a bender

just destroys shit

parties so he doesn't think about it

and then he fucking crashes

Wilbur and Techno and Kristin all know what the car meant to him, what it symbolized to him

So when there’s a headline and a picture of Tommy staring at a wrecked Clem, they don’t know how to feel

maybe he mentioned something about upgrading Clem to Phil, or offhandedly at family dinner

And Phil asks something like “Right and when did you get this one?” Very rudely y’know

And Tommy’s like, it’s the one you got me for my birthday last year, and Phil just says something about how he has to be more specific because he doesn’t even know which one that is

And Tommy feels everything crumble around him and he just tensely says, “never mind...” and goes back to his food

The other three watch the whole exchange like, “fuuuuuuuuuck”

And then as soon as dinners over Tommy’s out the door man

He’s gone

he doesn't take the dogs, which means he's causing damage

He doenst even take Tubbo

they can hear the handler hand Tommy the keys

Tubbo comes to Wil to ask if he knew where Tommy was and that’s when they realize Tommy’s going out to cause real damage

And Tommy’s phone is turned off

They can’t contact him

Tommy gets handcuffed

he won't get arrested, but he'll get brought back in a police car

he fucking like crashed into a poll on purpose

like it was less on purpose and more like he definitely wasn’t not trying to hit something

And then they fucking breathalyzer him and he’s drunk as balls

Straight vodka type night

there's a bottle in the cupholder

He gets out when he wrecks and you just see him dead eyed staring at the scratches on her hood

The dent in her door

The cracks in the windshield

And he just takes a swig of the bottle

He lets the police take the bottle and handcuff him, taking him back to the palace

Clem is towed back too

He doenst care man

this is bigger than party to distract Bc it’s all he’s thinking about even drunk n shit

So I feel like he’s absolutely crushed

he spends like a week or two in a depressive episode won't leave his room, won't talk to his dad

and then he asks his mom "why didn't you tell me?"

and she just purses her lips and and shakes her head

and he's out

he needs to leave

he doesn't need her pity

and he just goes to Purp's and parties

because he just wants to have fun for one night before he learns that everything is a lie

His brothers are there as much as he lets them be

Tubbo too

Ranboo would try to make it over after seeing the headlines

he gets on a jet

and goes as soon as he sees the news

cause Clem was Tommy's baby

He loved that fucking car man

And then

Boom

One dinner is all it took to ruin everything

Phil's just left like "what'd I do?"

Techno is straight faced

Wilbur rolls his eyes at Phil

And Kristin just looks stressed

She’s still staring the the door Tommy all but ran out of

none of them finish dinner, Kristin waves the butlers over to clear the plates

They don’t, and Phil is just so confused and frustrated and he doesn’t know what happened

Top 10 Prince Tommy Headlines: 10. Mourning or Disrespectful: Prince Thomas caught smoking outside grandmother's funeral 9. New Connections? Prince Thomas and Prince Ranboo seen outside Palace walking Royal Dogs 8. Protective Older Brother; Crown Prince William shielding Prince Thomas from cameras while walking down London streets 7. When Will He Stop? Prince Thomas continues his week-long bender 6. Another Frat Party: Prince Thomas found stumbling drunk after rowdy night at The Ritz London 5. Boy Crazy? Prince Thomas and Mystery Boy seen dancing at Crown Prince William's Birthday Ball 4. Is Prince Thomas's Rampage Over? The Prince seen hungover, nursing a coffee at London Branch Costa Coffee 3. Time to stop; Prince Thomas caught doing cocaine at socialites party 2. A good friend - Prince Thomas flew to the United States to help Prince Ranboo with new responsibilities

1. When is enough, enough? Prince Thomas crashes after driving drunk, arrested.

10 Tommy doesn’t smoke cigs so mans was just getting high at his grandmas funeral

he was real close with his granny, it was a sad day

It was because his father said something like “oh, I didn’t know you were coming Tommy”

It was his fucking grandmother Phil

Tommy just puts his sun glasses on, and sits as far away as he can

Number 5, the boy is Tubbo, Tubbo thinks it’s fucking hilarious, Tommy is pissed

Some of those headlines seem like they’re from the car month

Obviously number one is

But then the bender headline

Then the coffee one

And then the Wilbur one

They seem like a series of events

big month for the press

Tommys hungover and he calls Wil asking for him to pick him up

And Wilbur drops everything Bc he’s just glad Tommy’s coming back home

wilbur fucking glares at the cameras

Tommy's used to it

And then the press tries to mob them and Wilbur Almost breaks decorum

Like almost fucking yells at someone who gets too close

and Wilbur never does that

he's so in-line

he never breaks the rules

but goddamn if they take one step closer -

He’s been especially stressed, and all he wants is to get his baby brother home man

He’s been smoking a lot more since the wreck

He just wishes he could make everything better

Tommy relishes in talking to the press

Wilbur will clart someone who gets to close to his baby brother

The press who’s never seen Wilbur as anything other than composed and charming suddenly being faced with a very angry older brother who smells slightly like cigarette smoke

Wilbur in the Pogtopia coat but it’s some designer piece that’s expensive as hell

It’s his smoking coat

And it’s what he picks Tommy up in

So he smells like smoke

And not the tasteful cologne he usually wears in public

just like a dark overcoat

really expensive wool

Wilbur using it to cover them from the cameras

when they were younger, like 16 and 12, Wilbur would hide Tommy

like no one got a picture of Tommy until he was 14 or 15

Kristin really hid the boys when they were kids too

Tommy trying to peak out and make faces at the camera

it was illegal to get pictures of them younger than 10

like immediate blacklist

And also maybe some legal issues

Wilbur pulls Tommy's hood up over Tommy's head

And it’s very older brother of him too, he pulls it over to protect his face but then cinches the strings to be a little shit

Those Wilbur and Tommy brother moments comps exists in the universe too

But it’s just shit like that

Tommy has a great support system

He really does

His brothers love him

His mom loves him

He has two amazing friends and a bunch of other great friends as well

And sometimes he feels like a brat for throwing all these fits over his dad y’know?

Wilbur always tries to like, keep an arm around him when they're doing red carpets

And keeps Tommy sitting next to him at Royal events

but also like, steals food off his plate

and ruffles his hair

Tommy whispers the fucking worst jokes about the dignitaries and nobles and Wilbur has to keep a straight face

god thats tommys favorite thing to do

he tries so hard to get Wilbur to laugh and lose his shit

The fucking big boobs bit

But it’s Tommy whispering it to Wilbur completely out of context and randomly at a gala

ALSO

THE WHOLE EXTENDED FAMILY BULLSHIT

TOMMY HATES IT

LIKE WHO THE FUCK IS THIS LIKE AUNT TO HIM?

HE DOESNT KNOW HER

But Royal Families are always big on that shiit

They try to hug him n shit

And Tommy depending on how Brave n shit he’s feeling (how fed up he is) will either politely excuse himself or straight up say no and step back with a glare

he's honestly uncomfortable around the strangers

who say they're family

like he's too sober for this

He needs a god damned drink

But he’s in a vest and a nice tie and his crown is sat proper on his head

And he can’t have a drink

god he's like a little doll, he plays by Phil's rules

the crown comes on and he's the proper prince

He fucking hates it

he sips on Wilbur's wine, and does the whole "tequila for water" thing sometimes

Flask in his sleeve

Techno catches him with the flask once and is just impressed

god is that a look on Techno's face

He sees Tommy slip it from his sleeve and somehow sleight off hand take a drink

And it’s just a raised eyebrow and a head nod that says

Good for you

Bc techno also needs a drink during these events

Sometimes Tommy will spike his and Techno's drinks

as Wilbur regally sips on wine

Wilbur fucking also secretly wishing he had a flask during the drier events

Wine drink just isn’t enough sometimes

Wilbur puts on his best face

and pretends he wants to be there

and gives out a warm smile, and raises a glass

god he fucking hates it sometimes

and sometimes he loves it

but man, does he hate it sometimes

Tommy complains and Phil makes a passive aggressive comment about how

“Oh but don’t you love parties Tommy.”

Wilbur sits between them

The table goes

Techno Kristin Phil Wilbur Tommy

Tommy just sneaks another sip of the flask

he doesn't have time to deal with his dads shit

Slumps back in the seat

He probably wouldn’t even try to hide it after that

Not like Phil is actually looking at him

He can let the press have it

He doenst care

just like leaves the flask next to him

under teh table

and jsut takes large swigs from it

Tommy maybe having a group of his friends crash one of the stuffy events

Not an important one

So fucking dedication ceremony to some inane building

He just invites a wild group of socialites

It’s nice

It’s not as wild as a normal Tommy Innit party

But it’s not a stuffy fucking boring ass royal meeting

they just bring some fucking whiskey into the back room and chat shit

Tommy fucking has a group of friends crash this gathering

It’s not wild

But it’s not stuffy

It’s nice

Tommy even drags Wilbur back for at least a little

and that takes a whole lot of work

It really does, Wilbur isn’t even a little tipsy off the wine, and Phil been by him the whole time and it’s just been hell, he can’t get wiobur away from the “socializing” hes doing

but when Wilbur is a bit tipsy he just becomes more charasmatic

truly a king

Less someone putting on a mask for their father

A little bit more authentic

he's a natural, sipping wine with one hand, and shaking hands with the other, crown propped beautifully on his head, million dollar suits hanging off his frame

It’s nice to see his brother in his element

its a bit sad

but its nice

A little yeah, Wilbur’s

Wilbur’s leaving him, not really but

Wilbur being king is-

It’s going to be hard

Different

More than it is already

Wilbur will always love him

But eventually he’ll be too busy for Tommy

Just like Phil is

And it hurts

But that thought is what makes Tommy take a drink of his flask and drag Wilbur to the back room

Wilbur doesn’t have to forget him yet

Tommy looks real regal too

Wilbur wishes that Tommy could see what he sees

But he knows that Tommy’s self worth issues would take more than a nice hug and some warm words to fix

Tommy looks regal, and the gold crown really fits with the whole golden boy aesthetic

and he laughs, and makes conversation with everyome

and everyone eases up around him

Wilbur wishes that Tommy saw what he sees

also

Tommy and Ranboo's texts have been leaked once

Wow so many dog pictures dude

but also

:sparkles:state secrets:sparkles:

That was hell to clean up

it fucking was

it used petnames (which the public is never supposed to know about the nickanmes of royals fun fact)

and said shit about Phil

and detailed Fundy's illness which isn't public

and talked about meetings that Wilbur forced Tommy to attend

Tommy was terrified

Ranboo too

He was so scared someone would be angry at him for it

He doesn’t think he could handle be yelled at for this thing that wasn’t even his fault

like of course he could've not said it over text

but one of his best friends lives an ocean away

and his life is just all about secrets

dont make this something too

:sparkles: hackers :sparkles:

if someone god a hold of Tommy's IP, or Phone, or Phone number

dms

they could be using instagram, twitter, or snapchat to have some of these converstaions

dms can get leaked real easily

Mmmm you ever think about Crime Bous

Because all I can think about is when Wilbur does get out of the house, and just like every event they go to

Tommy isn’t a fucking party boy then, he’s just Prince Thomas, Crown Prince William’s baby brother

And they always get photographed and shit

But they have a great time

They’re always smiling when they’re together

Sans Wilbur being a really protective older brother, and when their grandmother died

It’s nice to just go get lunch together at that one specific cafe they’ve been going to for years

Or just walk the dogs together

Just hang out and be brothers

They sit at the same table every time, and Tommy has gotten a Raspberry Lemonade since he was 8

When they walk the dogs, Wilbur holds Walter and Tommy holds Betty

Sunglasses on, big wool overcoats, and pants that were sewn just for them

And they’re seen walking out on the streets during big events a lot too

To like take a breather

Tommy has made a habit of allowing the press to ask him questions whenever they find him

Wilbur on the other hand always knows exactly what to say to press that come up to them

He always shoos them off with a polite “we won’t be answering any question right now thank you” and a blinding smile

And Tommy’s making a face at the press from over his shoulder

Either like sticking his tongue out or making some sort of face at Wilbur

As he gets older, he stops doing it as much because it gets a bit tiring, everything is tiring

But he does it every once in a while, usually a sharp grin over Wilbur’s shoulder accompanied by a middle finger

when like press sees that Wilbur smokes like a lot

big thin

and I feel like Wilbur would straight up be like "its not a big deal, its completely legal"

and hes like smoking 8 cigs a day, but its fine

He doesn’t have an issue

It’s just a little stress relief

King at 21 is a lot to handle

and maybe the stress is so much that it becomes a problem

but hey its his relief

its legal

he's fine

That’s Wilbur’s mantra most of the time

he falls asleep in Tommys bed a lot, waiting for the teen to come home

wilbur does

he finishes a pack, and sighs, rubbing his eyes

The empire is on the brink of war, it always is

He looks in Tommy's room, its empty

And he sits on the bed, waiting

10 minutes later he's asleep

The sheets don’t smell like Wilbur, and Wil thinks that’s what makes it’s so comforting

They don’t stink of nicotine or Wilbur cologne

The smell like Tommy

and while that smell like expensive booze, and coconut shampoo

its perfect

and the dogs are in Tommy's room too

he's a little less alone

Betty is the cuddler

She’ll come up and sleep next to Wil

but she wont do it to just anyone

its a bond, its trust

its the fact that Tommy likes Wilbur

she growls at Phil

she nudges at Kristin, LOVES kristin

anyways

its lonely and sad

because Tommy usually doesnt come back

Tommy snakes back in early in the morning and tucks Wilbur in

Though most times Wilbur falls asleep in Tommys bed

Uncovered

Completely dressed

He’s lucky bettys fur is sleek otherwise his very expensive clothes would be covered

I think Wilbur more often then not will wake up with Tommy in his arms, and that makes him very happy

like, Tommy comes it at 5am, and just snuggles next to Wilbur

It’s makes Tommy sad to know his brother is waiting up for him to never come

But at the same time he’s always so happy to see him when he gets home

I imagine sometimes butlers come to get Wilbur for work, and Tommy makes them leave so that Wilbur can sleep in "Hello your highness, we came to fetch King Wilbur for his morning briefing" "He's sleeping." "Well, I can see that Your Highness -" "So let him sleep." "Prince Thomas -" "Let. Him. Sleep. Okay?" "Yes, Your Highness."

I've decided that Tommy is the big spoon

in these vulranable moments, when Wilbur is weak, Tommy kind of holds him

like obviously there are a lot of tims, where Wilbur wants to hold his baby brother

however, Tommy kind of holds Wilbur, like wraps himself around Wilbur, and puts Wilbur's head in the crook of his neck

this happens when Tommy comes home to find Wilbur in his bed

either this, or Tommy curls into a ball and rests his head against wilburs chest

Tommy has daddy issues

Wilbur has the weiht of the world

Techno has ptsd

Phil: fuck you my kids are completely fine!

Wilbur’s nicotine addiction

Tommys abandonment issues

Technos fucking PTSD

Once, when the empires war was getting really, really bad, and Wilbur had to decide life or death shit

He smoked a whole pack in a day

And then just kept going

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking

why wouldn't they stop fucking shaking

Tommy stopped partying that week, he isn’t ignorant, nor a fucking dick

He was Wilbur’s right hand for as long as he needed him

Despite how badly he wanted to party until he could see straight

His brother needed him

His king needed him

And he will gladly serve Wilbur as long as he would have him

He stood right behind Wilbur

Every decision

He was right behind him

Even if it meant constant decorum and constant royal dress, Tommy was there

And that was a grounding fact

If Tommy hadn’t been there Wilbur thinks he may have lost it that week

Sometimes the only thing that kept Wilbur’s hands from shaking terribly was holding Tommy’s hands

When the advisors and court had left

Tommy would take Wilbur hands and make him do breathing exercises

Wilbur wasn’t allowed to look anywhere other than Tommy’s eyes

They would get through this

Together

They would, Tommy would make sure of it

Tommy in the room also made everyone a bit nervous and loosen up around Wilbur though

Because sometimes they act like they can boss Will around

And Tommy is stone faced, and has the media wrapped around his finger

The court knows that all it would take is one “scandalous statement” from Prince Thomas to end their careers

Wilbur could fire them, but he’s stressed

Any other day, he’s a fucking FORCE to recon with

But Tommy? He’s here to ensure the best or their careers would end

And you know that Tommy has at least 3 sources in the biggest news outlets in the empire

He could get ANYTHING out there

Wilbur’s throne is the biggest in the middle

Two thrones smaller aside him

Within the like office / study / planning room

Tommy's hasn't been used until just then

Tommy finds it quite uncomfy

But he can deal

Also Tommy drops the nicknames for the week or so

No “Big Man”

It was “Will” and “William”

Your Majesty at one or two points

But that felt a little too formal for both of them

Too alienating

Tommy learned a whole fucking lot of fucking politics that week

Not that he didnt listen in his lessons it’s just that

Well

He can’t not listen if he’s not there

It’s different IRL too

Seeing all the decisions

It’s terrifying

And he’s exhausted

Dressing nicely and talking for 12 hours a day about politics

And life / death decisions

So many cuddles dude

Just permanently cuddling if they’re not presently working or “coping”

And I think

That although Wilbur is the one who’s going through it

When they cuddle, Wilbur likes to hold Tommy

Just in the sense that Tommy’s here and safe

In the midst of all the death around Wilbur

He needs to know that his person, his kid is alright

Plus having this one thing this one routine helps him feel a little on control during this out of hand time

:sparkles: Prince Tommy PR leak :sparkles:

I talked about how Tommy was close to his grandmother

and how he was smoking outside of her funeral

maybe it was during that time in his life

really dark place in his mind

smoked and drank every day

Wilbur smoked a lot during that time yet

they probably drank together a few times

like straight up vodka

Just they’re so young and so tired

and so its like, pictures of Wilbur and Tommy (and just Tommy) drinking in the parlor, and in the like, bar area of their private living area, dark eye bags, red eyes, just straight from the bottle

Both of their ties were undone, no jackets, sleeves rolled up to their elbows, Wilbur's top 3 buttons are undone, they're both like manspreading

like they're just at their lowest, particularly Tommy, but Wilbur was having an adjacent bad time

Tommy's hair is a fuckin' mess

HOWEVER, they're both still clean shaven, neither of their shorts or trousers are wrinkled or stained

They may be going through it, but the royal image waits for no one

How does the castle react? Immediate lock down.

Interrogations or some shit

none of the princes are allowed to leave

they have to do clean up

they write scripts essentially for Tommy and Wilbur to adress the press

they need to send out a memo that they don't agree with underage drinking

its all structured, scripted, and written by advisors (and their father)

major damage control

which is just not what Tommy needs right now, because he's like trying to work through his grief

and Wilbur has a fucking fight with his father about that

Phil does not care

They fucked up

Someone else fucked up

And now they’re going to be big boys and fix it Like Phil's going to Tommy's room to get him to look over what his quick press tour and Wilbur jsut stops him in front of the door "He's fucking grieving - Let him have a moment will you? Don't you know how close he was with Gran?" "You messed up. He messed up. Now you're gonna be big boys and fix it." “You’re horrible sometimes you know that?” “I am your father” “Then act like it, your majesty”

meanwhile Tommy: in bed, hasn't slept, major depressive spiral, cuddling Betty, Walter standing guard at his door, holding onto a blanket that his grandmother gave him

just - can't even cry anymore

just empty

Literally just despondent

Staring at the ceiling as Betty noses his face

like good luck getting to get up, let alone read shit

He hasn’t showered in days

He is very much not presentable

like it's only been a week or two since his grandmother's death

and he still is processing

He is no where near done grieving

#tommyinnit #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #philza minecraft #philza #technoblade #tubbo #ranboo #SBI #sleepy bois inc #sleepyboisinc #LILLYS NEW AU #THE KING THE WARRIOR AND THE PRINCE #long post

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

College AU drinking HCs /// Dabi, Shigaraki, & Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

A/N: A little background for this college AU—imo the PLF would be a social frat and the Shie Hassaikai is a professional frat (pre-med). Sooner or later I’ll write general college AU headcanons for them…

Tags/warnings: implied dubcon/drunk sex, alcohol, problematic frat culture things, pressure to drink, brief mentions of public sex/exhibitionism, drug use, a tiny bit of degradation, Hawks is vaguely in it too

Dabi

A basic frat bitch who drinks beer 80% of the time

Surprisingly he can’t tolerate cheap beer and is kind of a snob about people who drink shitty beer but he doesn’t bring it up enough to be annoying about it. Constantly blowing the frat’s alc budget on bottled beer instead of cans, not the super expensive craft bullshit but a step above Natural Light at least, right guys? Come on

Dabi always volunteers to go with Keigo (the frat’s social chair) to pick up the keg because both of them have a crusade against the cheap stuff—Keigo because he wants people to get drunk on it at parties and Dabi because he wants to drink it himself. They lowkey have a bromance over it and sometimes go to breweries together to fuck around and daydrink. The two of them are always trying new beers and will generally keep a different sixpack in the fridge every day—if any of the other brothers drink their overpriced IPAs by accident there’ll be consequences

Speaking of Keigo, him and Dabi are both into making jungle juice. They both get really excited about it, it’s kinda wholesome except they’re both just plotting on how to get cute girls like you as drunk as possible without realizing. They’ve spent a bunch of weekends together trying different mixes and recipes for the best flavor/alcohol content combination

Dabi is a whole ass heavyweight. He’s been getting drunk since he was like 11 so a couple rounds of shots are basically water to him. He can’t even remember the last time he was really, really drunk, he just gets tipsy now. And believe he absolutely uses this to his advantage

You’re drinking together? He’s going to fill up your cup every time he fills up his own, so before you realize how much you’ve been drinking, you’re five drinks in and swaying on the spot while Dabi is completely unfazed. He’ll tease you about having no tolerance to make you drink more

Drinking games!! Once again his tolerance gives him an advantage. He’ll pull some fake chivalrous shit like offering to drink for you on the first round of beer pong and then after that he’s just going to demolish you until you’re so plastered he basically has to carry you up to his room (which has empty liquor bottles lined up on the shelves as “decor” because he’s such a stereotypical frat bro)

Ok this is kinda weird but bear with me—Dabi actually dislikes that alcohol makes you less responsive/makes it harder for you to cum. Doesn’t mean he’ll hesitate to get you drunk but he wants you to feel everything he’s doing to you and alcohol isn’t really conducive to that

Very laid-back when he’s tipsy, you can barely tell the difference from when he’s sober ♡

Shigaraki Tomura

A liiiiiiiightweight. 3 drinks and Tomura’s out bruv, out like a goddamn lightbulb, I said what I said

Although tbh it’s more like he gets drunk really quick and then sobers up really quick. Like he’ll be nodding off at the pregame but by the time the party starts, he’s ready to get going again

A wimp when it comes to alc preferences. Hates the taste of strong liquor and will never take shots without a chaser. Prefers to mix vodka and tequila rather than doing shots, preferably with root beer/sprite. Gets pissy if the party runs out of shit to chase with. The frat has a steady supply of amaretto and kahlua because of Tomura, he really likes sweet drinks

Genuinely hates beer and will take white claw over beer any day of the week. But he’s a frat president so he avoids talking about it bc it’s pretty embarrassing

Don’t tell anyone but…Tomura doesn’t really like drinking? Since he’s the president he has to be in charge of a lot of shit when they have parties. Drunk freshmen puking in the backyard? Tomura has to tell Dabi (recruitment chair) to find some pledges to clean it up. Fight breaks out? Tomura has to make sure no one gets hurt enough to get the frat in trouble with school admin. Undercover cops? Tomura’s the one who has to announce that they’re out of alc and shut it down

It’s annoying enough for Tomura to deal with that shit (not to mention get Keigo to stop fucking freshman girls and pull his weight as social chair) when he’s sober, and it’s 100x worse when he’s drunk

On the other hand, when Tomura gets drunk he’ll get really drunk. Doesn’t dance so he’ll just sit on the couch and maybe play handheld games, and he’ll get super annoyed bc he’s shit at games when his vision is blurry and his hands are shaking

Pretty suggestible when he’s been drinking. If you’re dating Tomura you can get him to do all kinds of crap after you get a few shots in him. Make him do your skincare routine with you and put face masks on together :,) He’ll never admit it but he likes being taken care of when he’s wasted

ON THE OTHER HAND THO…….if you’re not dating and instead just some random chick at one of his parties? Tomura will absolutely use being drunk as an excuse to creep on you. e.g. at kickbacks he’ll get you to play never have I ever/truth or dare so he can ask invasive questions

Are you a virgin?

How old were you when you lost it? Oh wow, you’re a slut/prude.

Body count?

Do you like sucking cock?

Ever let a guy tie you up/choke you/cum inside?

You keep answering because he seems super detached/disinterested, like he doesn’t really care about your answers or he’s just joking around. Little do you know…

Honestly a sneak creep—Tomura seems like he doesn’t give a shit about you until he’s groping you under your shirt on the dance floor, hands squeezing your tits before he shoves them into your shorts and tells you he’s going to wreck this little pussy as soon as he gets you alone ♔

Chisaki Kai

You know Kai drinks, but you never really see him drinking? It’s weird…he’s always holding a bottle when you run into him at parties but he never takes off the cloth mask he’s wearing

Brings his own alcohol to parties because no fucking way he’s going to be drinking the same nasty shit that the hosts are providing. Jungle juice? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Do you have any idea how unsanitary that is? Even thinking about it makes Kai want to throw up

Highkey a drug dealer although he doesn’t do much himself except maybe coke or adderall…Kai can sell you basically anything and all his shit is that high-quality you can’t usually get from a campus dealer

At the same time, if Kai’s planning on fucking you he probably won’t give you that much because he doesn’t want to babysit you when you get crossed

Likes Asian liquors, very on-brand for him. Baijiu, shōchū, sake, that kind of thing. Drinks a fair amount of soju but he exclusively buys boring flavors like “fresh” or “classic”

When it comes to Western liquor, Kai has better taste than most students. Would rather drink vinegar than any alcohol that came out of a plastic bottle, box, or bag. He likes top-shelf whiskey and gin and he’s good with strong alcohol; if you wince after taking a shot he’ll definitely look down on you

Prefers afterparties and kickbacks to big parties, and will take roof/outdoor events over crowds. Hasn’t set foot inside a social frat since he was a freshman and doesn’t plan to. Very much the “let’s get out of here, I have something stronger at my place” type

Fuck, you’re so trusting when you’re drunk…he could probably put a leash and collar on you and you’d thank him. It’s sort of baffling how bubbly and sweet you are when Kai gets a little liquor in you; he can’t decide if it’s annoying or a turn-on

Kai has average tolerance but unbelievable self-control and awareness, so he’s careful not to get too drunk himself

Likewise, if he’s interested he’ll keep a close eye on how much you’re drinking and how trashed you are, because when he gets around to fucking you he wants you to be fuzzy enough that he can easily take advantage but not too sloppy. Wouldn’t want you gagging on his cock after all

Loves watching you stumble around and fall over shit while he’s just shy of sobriety. Only time you’ve ever seen Kai laugh is when you drunkenly asked him for help walking once. No way. If you can’t walk by yourself you should just crawl

When Kai actually gets drunk, he’s pretty much the same except a little more sleepy/lazy. If he’s sitting down he has a habit of nodding off in the middle of conversations. It’s lowkey cute but Setsuno brought it up once and Kai got pissed so don’t mention it to him ♢

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roguephoenix85 · 3 years

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Final chapter - is Ymir badly written or is it something else? (spoiler for the end of SNK)

TW: mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse

So I’ve seen a few people confused, upset, and a little angry about the explanation for Ymir “loving” Fritz as the reason why things were as they were, and claiming it’s bad writing and rushed and what have you. I don’t claim to know all the nuances and in and outs of long form storytelling such as Attack on Titan, but I do know some things about being a victim of brainwashing, abuse, and defending the people who abused me. Some are saying it’s Stockholm syndrome, and while I don’t necessarily disagree, it’s a bit more nuanced than that. Because I did everything I could to get away from my family that hurt and abused me, but I still kept them in my life for some inexplicable reason, year after year, involving them in it and divulging information to them that they would use to harm me psychologically and mentally for their amusement and sense of power and superiority. Why? Everyone outside of my family who observed it could see that they were shitty and awful and I didn’t need them. But after 30 years of being told I’m incompetent, no one loves me like they would, I can’t take care of my life responsibly like an adult would, and that I’ll never have enough money to live unless they helped (and the condition of their help was to give them control over my care - they picked doctors, therapists, everyone, that would give them the diagnoses they wanted so it would be an easier case to be declared legally incompetent and have my mother control my financial and housing freedom), I had internalized it to such a degree that I truly believed those things about myself. My depression and suicidal thinking sprung from the conflict that this treatment wasn’t right vs. but they’re your family and they love you so they MUST be right, you MUST be an evil child to be controlled, and YOU’RE the problem. When that is all you know, you think that it’s love. Because the love you receive is conditional upon subservience.

Ymir wanted love and the only “love” was from the king once she acquired power. As much as she wanted the love she observed the only love available was manipulative and abusive. If you’ve never known actual unconditional love, you’ll take anything that you’re given. That’s why I was raped. That’s why I was molested. That’s why I allowed myself to compromise myself to stay with people who only sought to use and manipulate me for their own ends.

Because there was none around me. And when you’re terrified of death and attached to the world, wanting and hoping that someday something good will finally happen, you latch on to people, ideas, objects that end up doing more harm than good to you, because all you know is that abuse is what love is. Mistreatment is the norm. But inside, you know it’s not right. Something doesn’t feel right. So you hope. You pick the first person who gives you any value, even if it’s your value to them and not your own inherent value you’ve found for yourself. You never truly live for yourself. You’re living so that others will give you your value. Because when you did do things for yourself - you’re ridiculed. You’re betrayed. You’re humiliated and abused more. You’re kicked so much that you go back, again, and again, because the humiliation is worse than just letting them do what they want to you. That’s what happened to Ymir. The one time she did something she wasn’t “supposed to”, what happened? She got hunted and almost murdered. And when she found that power, she had value to her oppressor. Her tribe betrayed her to save themselves. This “king” tried to have her killed. But she found power. And once she had power, her abusers sought to capitalize on it. She had no one. So when you gain power and all of a sudden you have value to someone? You latch on. Because now you’re important. Now you’ve elevated yourself. But that value isn’t something for YOU. It’s something that is for the benefit of someone who only values you when you’re doing something for them.

I’ve noticed a lot of “I don’t get why Ymir would love the king, that’s bad storytelling”. My mother is a sociopath and allowed my molestation when I was a child because “everyone else went through worse and you’re a nasty little girl” - to a nine year old. She schemed to take my inheritance away from me. When my visitation with my father was over for the weekend, she would abuse and manipulate me for three days after every visit to “get me back to where I needed to be.” I would be choked, slapped, hit, have my room ransacked and destroyed if I didn’t comply with her wishes. When I wanted to kill myself because I found no solace with friends, teachers, therapists (that my mother sought out and paid for because she wanted someone to declare me incompetent or bipolar so she could take away my legal rights and exert control over every aspect of my life), neighbors, no one, even my own stepfather told me I was stupid for wanting to kill myself and that I’m ungrateful for everything. I would later discover this man was a heroin addict for longer than I had even been alive and that the only reason my mother stayed with him was because he had a large inheritance that would come to him and she could easily have his power of attorney taken away from him and control him because hey, he’s a drug addict and can’t be trusted. Better to let her take care of it all, right?

And even after all of this, I loved her. Well, I used to. I would keep wanting her love and respect because to give it up meant I had no value to anyone. The two significant others that I did have didn’t really love me, my last one was also a sociopath who convinced me to snort adderall, take hallucinogens, and stole my car to commit sexual assault against a mutual friend who had been assaulted not even 6 hours prior by someone else. When all you know is abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, and harming yourself to get a modicum of dignity and respect and love, of COURSE you stay. Because no one else loves you, right? You’re worthless and stupid and have no value except to me. I’m the only one who can love you. I’m the only one who can use you properly. Just do what I say and what I want and don’t complain or worse will happen to you. Families don’t do this to each other, you’re just mad that I’m better than you. Choices are hard, let me make them for you because clearly you can’t handle the “real world.”

When you are told these things and unduly punished for pushing back against it, of COURSE you think it’s love. Because no one is giving it to you otherwise. They isolate you, triangulate you so you HAVE to go back to them. And you do it. Because there’s nothing else around you showing you otherwise. It’s only when you share the story with others, or view it through the lens of someone else, that you understand how fucked it truly is. Under the under, Ymir is a child. She’s a child who wants to be loved. And all she’s known is manipulation and abuse. For thousands of years, because each “founder” was just her original abuser in a new body. Like Zeke.

Until Eren. Who saw her story, and instead of using her, validated her. Saw her experiences through an objective lens and said ENOUGH OF THIS. This is WRONG. It’s SICK. And it won’t end unless I do this. Until I give her the choice to break free. All it takes is one person to listen to you and hear you and your world is changed. But she never appeared as she did when she died. She was still a hurt child beholden to her abusers. And in this instance, the only thing that could make it stop is destroying it completely.

Is genocide wrong? Yes. Is scapegoating an entire race of people in the name of world unity wrong? Yes. Is using children for war and power and brainwashing them wrong? Yes. This world is cruel. It always was. That’s been the thesis of this story from day one. But. It’s also beautiful. But you have to allow that beauty in. You have to show it to people. Ymir wasn’t able to see any of it until it was far too late, but not from her own conscious choice. She’s just a child who wants to be loved and only found manipulation. And was scared of “death” because that meant there was no love in the world. None for her. Her existence was to be used and fucked to death metaphorically. And when that’s the only love you’re given and told to expect, you hold on to it and believe there’s nothing better.

Until someone or something objective comes along, hears your pain, shares it, validates it, and then tells you it’s fucked up that that’s how you were forced to live. When everything you’ve known is a fucking lie, you do want to scorch the earth somewhat. All these people that could have helped you and they said fuck you, I’ll use you too. Standing up to your abuser is scary. I’m currently suing my mother now, and I’ve been terrified of her retaliation even though I’m 35. Because she has money and people she can manipulate into harassing me on her behalf. Even though I’ve taken as many precautions as I can, there’s still things she can do - ensure I get none of my inheritance, destroy my childhood memories, slander me publicly, fly out to where I live and stalk me or have others stalk me, or find people loyal to her to assert that I should be declared incompetent because of my autism, even though I have my own doctors I see now who disagree with that sentiment. It’s scary, but it’s right. But I’m also an adult now, and when I realized that my stepfather was telling everyone in the family that when he was high on ketamine I convinced him to murder my birth father, and that it was MY IDEA, and that my mother lied about reporting my sexual abuse to DHS because she wanted to protect her brother, his kid that abused me, and their family over me, and also had me lie about my birth father abusing me by convincing me “Oh it was so traumatic you can’t remember” so she could get custody of me just because she hated him, I finally said enough. But I didn’t have an Eren to help me make that decision. Or a Mikasa to do what needed to be done.

Ymir is still just a child mentally. Separation from that, especially when you’re a child and have no other allies in the world and you’re told worse could happen to you if you separate from your abusers, is difficult. And sometimes nonsensical. I know a lot of people were confused as to why I would still try to involve my mother in my life after the insanely fucked up shit she would do. But you don’t know any better when you’re the target. My reasoning is that I’m an adult now and I have a life of my own I’ve built despite her. Ymir didn’t have, or didn’t understand, that choice. So she stayed. Asking for breadcrumbs of love and respect and dignity from lesser beings. To quote Chelsea Hart “You want to be worshipped by a goddess without having to be a god.” She had the power, and she didn’t know what to do because she was a child. So she gave away her power. And by then it was too late to be properly reasoned with. The only way to stop it was to destroy all of it. Because when you’re a child you don’t have the benefit of retrospect. You have a limited view of the world because you’re a child. You’ve been sheltered and told manipulative bullshit to keep you down, so breaking free is the radical thing. And when you’re a child, you don’t know moderation. You’re impulsive and your emotional intelligence is limited. So of course the rumbling is the result. But you also think you still love your abuser. Because that’s all you know truly, and when you don’t see it until it’s too late, this is the result. It’s tragic, but Isayama never said this was a happy story. And considering how he WAS going to end it, giving who remains another chance at life and evening the playing field by having Paradis’ army now be comparable to the opposition army, and having the curse of the Titans eliminated from the world, that’s a pretty good ending for them.

I mean, isn’t that what Eren’s goal was since he was a child? To eliminate the Titans from the Earth? I’d say that mission is fully accomplished now.

#snk meta #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk chapter 139 spoilers #snk ch 139 #I thought the ending was fine and appropriate to what he built up #but a lot of people don't seem to understand the pull of a deeply manipulative abusivve relationship and it shows #so I wanted to give context since them saying ymir staying with him is bad writing #it's not bad #it's just outside of certain scopes of imagination and experience #people who grew up in normal households have a harder time understanding why people stay with abusers #and some of the victims will claim its love #and i thought i was being loving by understanding her #but when the truth came out i had to be my own eren and mikasa #and i had and am still learning what true understanding caring and empathy are #getting rid of the bullshit from my mind #but for those who haven't experienced that kind of trauma and abuse yeah it pry seems poorly written and inconceivable #but i'm here to say it's not that crazy and not necessarily bad writing or characterization #it's just a deeply traumatic abusive relationship that one has no other workable context for besides you know its wrong but no one else will #give you what you need #so you take it where you can and hope that it's the right love #but it never is #hopefully this illuminates that choice for some of you guys

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sandalaris · 3 years

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send your a character impression asks: Seth and Kate if you don't have those already, and Jeff Winger and Annie Edison! ❤❤❤

Seth Gecko

First impression: I think I loved him right off the bat. He’s snarky and quick witted and those are usually the characters I like first.

Impression now: Not much has changed. I suppose I have more of an understanding for how he handled his demons now compared to my initial reaction to his heroin use. And I definitely think he’s at his healthiest in season three.

Favorite moment: Oh jeeze, he has so many good ones! I suppose I rather like him in Shady Glen. Just like his whole taking charge of the group and his awkwardly trying to smooth things over when he and Richie busted in guns drawn on that woman and her son. Reminded me of the convo between him and the Dew Drop Inn clerk.

Idea for a story: Nothing new, but I’ve got anther tUA-inspired AU snippet brewing that touches more on Seth’s Bad Ass Normal superpower though.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t know that it’s all that unpopular, but I’m not convinced Seth used again after season two. I’m not convinced he didn’t either, but it’s never been a personal headcanon or something that I’ve felt was a given or anything. I mostly feel that he went back to popping prescription pain pills and probably mixing them with alcohol (not smart) when he was feeling particularly shitty.

Favorite relationship: Probably him and Richie (although he and Kate are a close second.) Their relationship is pretty much the heart of the show and I don’t think I would’ve loved it nearly so much had it not been.

Favorite headcanon: It’s a tie between Seth getting a cross tattoo to represent Kate after season three, and that Seth started questioning his faith after the blood-transfusion-that-shouldn’t’ve-worked. And as a tie into the second one, that he and Kate do not have compatible blood types, something Seth learned after the fact.

Kate Fuller

First impression: That she was a typical, albeit a bit on the mature side, teenage girl, lol. At least for most of season one. I think I probably stereotyped her a bit, because I remember not realizing just how quickly Kate grew unafraid/immune to the Gecko Brothers until my first rewatch.

Impression now: She is so much a “there’s bravery in remaining soft”/”world’s nicest badass”/”do not mistake my kindness for ignorance” character. She has this quiet strength and is unwavering in who she is at her core.

Favorite moment: Pretty much anytime Kate meets someone new and they inevitably get attached and decide to go to the ends of the earth for her (or they’re evil and decide they want to possess her *cough*Malvado,Tanner,Oculto*cough*)

Idea for a story: I’ve been wanting to write a fairytale!AU, particularly with my favorite fairytale, but it doesn’t fit SethKate all that well. Maybe I’ll just expand on that crack!ficlet I wrote...? Idk. I’ve got too many wips anyway.

Unpopular opinion: I can’t think of one I haven’t named before. I suppose with the increase in purity culture here on Tumblr the fact that I really don’t mind the age gap between Seth and Kate nor do I think it makes any difference if Kate’s underage or legally an adult would count.

Favorite relationship: In show it’s probably her and the Gecko Brothers, but in those inbetween moments I really love her and Scott.

Favorite headcanon: Currently I’m think about how I headcanon that Kate has some lingering muscle memory about swordsmanship from Amaru. Its nothing too exciting, especially since Amaru’s pre-Earth memories -and therefore her memories of learning to use a sword- are fuzzy at best, but her body practiced with one enough during those six months that it falls into place easy enough when she picks up a blade.

Jeff Winger

First impression: Like Seth, he’s that brand of snarky and quick witted that I immediately like.

Impression now: I don’t know that it’s changed much. I love how the show let Jeff grow but also let him slip back into old habits. People don’t change overnight, and while Jeff didn’t need each lesson hammered over his head repeatedly, he did need to learn not to fall back into his default mode whenever he could.

Favorite moment: Anytime Jeff shows genuine excitement to hang out with the study group. Like when he showed up early to the apartment for the wedding.

Idea for a story: I’ve had this idea for a while where Jeff never got caught and is an even worse version of himself than he was circa the pilot. And he somehow meets a few (maybe all?) of the study group only they don’t make him a better person so much as he manipulates them into being part of his life as he unwantingly grows attached to each of them. It’s kind of dark for a Community fic, not counting some of the darkest timeline fics, but the idea entered my head one day and has been living rent free there ever sense.

Unpopular opinion: Its mostly unpopular among Jeff/Annie shippers, but I rather like how the Jeff/Britta storyline played out. It makes sense to me that they became friends with benefits and that the sexual tension between them faded as they got to know each other on a deeper level since they were incompatible. Plus, I really like their friendship.

Favorite relationship: I really loved his and Abed’s dynamic at the beginning of the series, but for the bulk of the show it’s a tie between him and Annie (romantic) and him and Britta (platonic)

Favorite headcanon: I fully believe Jeff is demiromantic. Its why he doesn’t think romantic love is real, he so rarely experiences it and only after getting close to someone, something he actively avoids doing, and why he figured that having a friend he gets along with and is sexually attracted to is all that was needed for a romantic relationship.

Annie Edison

First impression: Mainly I just remember not liking her crush on Troy in the first season, lol. I’ve never been that into ships where one side is super obvious and kind of desperate while the other is oblivious and/or sees them as just friends. I was really proud of her when she decided to not let Troy use her grandmother’s blanket (which is coincidentally also the episode I started to ship her and Jeff, albeit mildly at the time) and their friendship later on was wonderful.

Impression now: She’s one of my favorite characters on the show, although on Community I love them all so that’s not saying much, lol. Troy says it best when he says that Annie expects everyone to be better than they are and for herself to be better than everyone.

Favorite moment: I can’t just pick one moment, grr. Fine, the first thing that popped into my head was Annie saying the line about “a C? Why don’t I just get pregnant at a gas station?!” or something like that. Just her absolute insistence that anything less than perfection in herself is some kind of a epic failure in life is just amusing to me.

Idea for a story: I don’t think I really have any off the top of my head that aren’t Community as a whole fics. I’d love to write an AU for the show someday, it lends itself to the concept so well that just about any sort of AU would do. An I still have the FDtD crossover fic that is sitting all messy in my wip folder.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t really care where they went with her character in seasons five and six (I particularly don’t like how it was played for laughs that she started taking pills again between seasons 4 and 5). Her storylines are mostly fine, but I prefer the way her character went in the seasons that came before.

Favorite relationship: I was trying to think of someone besides Jeff, but even not looking at them as a ship I really did love their dynamic throughout the show.

Favorite headcanon: Annie’s parents where the ones who got her hooked on Adderall, telling her what to say to her doctor to get a prescription or maybe bringing home a bottle themselves, so that she could keep up her perfect grades and do all the right afterschool activities to get into an Ivy League school and make them proud. They were mostly embarrassed that Annie “couldn’t handle it” and tried to quit, saying she needed to try harder and “really, Annie, stop being so dramatic” when she OD’d.

#seth gecko #kate fuller #fdtd #jeff winger #annie edison #community

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lastoneout · 3 years

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Hey neurodivergent tumblr, I need advice!

I've known for years that I likely have type 2 bipolar disorder(I was prescribed several SSRIs that really messed me up before being given a mood stabilizer that helped), but most of my psychologists have sort of dismissed that? Which I figured was fine, I had a medication that helped with the depression and hypomania(which was never that bad in the first place) and figured that was enough, and eventually I also got an ADHD diagnosis that further helped me function more or less just fine.

Thing is my new doctor says that he doesn't think I have ADHD at all. He thinks my bipolar isn't managed well enough, and that instead of helping anything my Adderall is actually just making everything worse, and I should stop taking that and start taking abilify in addition to my current mood stabilizer(lamictal).

That...seems strange to me. Cuz yeah despite taking Adderall all of my ADHD symptoms aren't cured, which I figured was just because treating ADHD is a mix of medication and coping strategies, meds aren't a cure-all ofc. But overall I notice that I focus better and it's much easier to stop and start and finish things when I'm taking the Adderall as opposed to the times I've had to go off it, so I assume that means it's working(I always say it feels like someone scooped all the noise out of my brain). I do occasionally get a bit jittery and I do have trouble sleeping, but I always chalked that up to my anxiety(my dreams are always vivid and about my fears, and I have a fear of dying in my sleep that makes getting to sleep a bit hard some nights for obvious reasons), but it's never been bad enough that it's disrupted my life more than being a bit tired sometimes and not being able to drink as much coffee as I used to.

So I guess my question is, is there anyone who has comorbid ADHD and bipolar who can tell me about how the two interact so I can try to figure out if my new doctor is right? I am fine with potentially trying new treatments for my bipolar, but I'm worried about going off my Adderall and potentially losing a month or more of executive function just on a hunch. I'm also still pretty sure I have ADHD, I tick a lot of the boxes, my last 3 doctors all agreed I have it, and I don't think all of my symptoms can be explained as just "poorly managed bipolar", can they?

(Also I must say I'm pretty hesitant to believe this doctor cuz he seemed pretty dismissive of ADHD as a whole and hinted he believes it's over diagnosed, in his words "doctors just slap an ADHD diagnosis on you and don't think to check if it's something else" which is...not what happened to me. I had to ask to get tested for ADHD and I checked almost all the boxes on the sheet my doctor at the time gave me so?? He also kinda boiled it all down to just "not being able to focus or finish stuff" which I have way more symptoms than that. He also said I should try stopping the Adderall and just see if things get better when I'm on my current mood stabilizer alone and like, I've done that. I got diagnosed with bipolar a year or two before I got diagnosed with ADHD and I tried to get tested for ADHD because the Lamictal wasn't enough on it's own, and it still isn't.)

Anyway this is rambly, sorry I'm just confused. Getting diagnosed with ADHD was life changing for me, it finally made me see that I wasn't just stupid or broken, and that there were people like me out there who understood and a path to being a self sufficient, healthier person. Having someone tell me it's all just some other condition is really stressing me out and kinda scaring me and weirdly is making me feel like I'm broken, cuz like I was kinda proud of having ADHD. I tried to see the beauty in being able to think differently than NT people, I like being able to hyperocus and have special interests, and it was nice to have an explanation for how I've struggled to fit in all my life, and so yeah having all of that yanked away and replaced with "You're actually just broken" is unpleasant to say the least. (Not that there's anything wrong with having bipolar ofc, it's just different.)

So far my plan is to just ask if there's a nonstimulant ADHD med I can try in addition to the new bipolar medication, but I've heard those have a really low chance of actually helping. I have a month until I see the doctor again tho so at least I've got time to think about it all.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

#adhd #bipolar #bipolar and adhd

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Finding Home

a fic about @asocial-nebula‘s demons and angels AU!!!!

i’m sorry it’s kinda short. i had to use my mom’s Adderall today and that’s only, like, 20mg, so it doesn’t last as long. plus it’s the evening so it’s mainly worn off, but i really wanted to write something for this AU!!!

also, Nikola, i am so sorry if things are inaccurate. is Hell an underground cave system? does it have animals? running water? blankets???? i don’t know. i am very, very sorry if it’s inaccurate. i tried. but still!! i hope you enjoy!!!

Word count: 2281

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Joan remembered the first time she disappointed the House of Pride. And everyone else around her.

It was still morning and Hell’s caverns were as hot as always. Joan had wiggled out of her cave and glided down to the craggy pavilion where a female demon with cold eyes and large cinnamon colored wings stood. She hissed for attention and Joan, along with the others around her, straightened up.

“This hunt is for the head of the House himself.” The demon had said. “The first one to bring back a Magma Pig will get a spot next to him at dinner this evening.”

Joan perked up. That was exactly what her poor reputation needed, so she had been one of the first to shoot off from the pavilion after the word was given.

She wasn’t the best flier, especially because of searing back pain from the strain of her big wings on her little body, but she pushed through the screaming of her aching muscles this one time.

She flapped through the tunnels, barely dodging pillars of rocks and pointy stalagmites that seemed to be doing everything in their power to knock her out of the air. She spun through two reaching rock shelves and broke out into a large cave where a glowing pink waterfall flowed from a crevice in the wall, drifting into a winding river. Steam rose from the surface; everything down in the caverns seemed to be boiling hot. The sultry heat made her wingbeats sluggish and her scales feel like they were melting off, but she shook them out and scanned the cave.

There!

A Magma Pig was drinking by the river. She was huge, with fiery red pelt and streaks of gold that glowed like active lava. Her tucks were long and wickedly sharp, and she would definitely put up a fight, but Joan would win.

Joan flexed her claws, flashing her fangs in a smirk. She could already hear all the praise she would get when she brought back such a big swine. Her tail began to wag excitedly. She spread her wings and swooped--

But something stopped her mid-dive.

Piglets. Baby Magma Pigs.

There were three in total, and they frolicked out of a crack in the wall, grunting and squealing blissfully. Two began to playfight, while the other hobbled over to its mother and headbutted her leg affectionately. The mom made a loving noise, nuzzling the baby’s cheek, then submerged her snout back into the water for another drink.

Joan’s claws lost their slack. She hovered in the air, unable to bring herself to kill the family. What would the babies do without their mama? They would die!

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” A voice suddenly boomed across the cavern. A large demon with orange-gold wings came zipping out of one of the tunnels, followed by two others. “Are you a demon or an angel? Kill that pig!”

Joan floundered, nearly falling right out of the air. The orange-winged demon sneered in disgust and shoved past her roughly. She spun down to the cave floor and hit a rock roughly.

“Wait--” She shouted, but one of the other demons already dove down and snatched the pig up, slicing her throat. The other one managed to grab two piglets and snap their necks, while the last one got away through a hole in the wall.

The baby was alone. It was going to die.

“Why didn’t you kill it?” The orange-winged demon asked. “No kill could be easier! Are you really that stunted and useless?”

“I-I--” Joan pulled her wings around her like she thought they would protect her.

“I bet she was worried about the little baby pigs.” The demon that had killed the mother said, landing with a thump and a splattering of pig blood. “She didn’t want to leave them all alone with no mommy to take care of them. The poor wittle furballs.” Her voice was mocking and cruel.

“No!” Joan cried. “That isn’t it! I-I was going to kill it! I-I just--”

“Save it.” The orange-winged demon hissed. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’re pathetic.”

Joan had stared miserably at her feet. That day, she knew her treatment would only worsen, especially when the news of her failure got to the rest of the House of Pride. And it did.

For as long as she could remember, she was not like the other demons that prowled around Hell. They were all strong and big and powerful and knew what they were doing at all times. She was the exact opposite, it seemed, with her too big wings and too small body and too bright eyes. She wasn’t enough, ever. No matter how much she sharpened her claws on rocks or filed her teeth to points with bones or perfected her magic, her attempts always blew up in her face--literally, sometimes.

She was just--messed up. And she didn’t know how to fix herself.

The other demons saw her a mockery to their race. A waste of magic and scales. Their harassment became a ritual of sorts, a daily cycle of let’s stomp on Joan’s tail and let’s leave Joan stranded up on the tallest cliff because her wings were too weak and too big for her to properly fly and let’s dunk Joan into the scalding pools until she starts to drown and let’s rake our claws down Joan’s stomach again and again and again until she squeals like a stuck pig beneath our talons. It never ended.

And then, Cathy entered her life.

Cathy was like a rope ladder dropped from heaven--and in a way, she was. She was a fallen angel, banished from the ethereal world for reasons Joan didn’t know. But even with her new horns and darkened scleras and black wings, she was still an angel in Joan’s eyes.

Cathy had saved her from a particularly painful beating from a trio of demons. She thought they would have ripped her tail right out of her back if Cathy hadn’t come along and scared them off with very rude threats and mighty wingbeats and slashing claws. They didn’t speak to each other, rather just exchanged looks before Cathy walked away silently, but Joan felt a connecting between the two of them.

So she started following Cathy around. She was like a duckling of sorts, always somewhere near Cathy, whether the fallen angel liked it or not. A silent bond was created--at least on Joan’s part. She felt safe and happy around Cathy, even if they barely interacted. Being near her was enough.

But of course, like every good thing in her life, Cathy was taken away.

One day, Cathy just--disappeared. Joan looked everywhere, searching every nook and cranny in Hell, but couldn’t find a trace of the fallen angel. All that she had left of her were the things in her cave, which she started staying in to retain a shred of that connection they had. Cathy’s scent on ragged blue blankets were the only thing that kept her calm during anxiety attacks. She liked to pretend the covers were actually Cathy’s wings swaddling her and holding her close, protecting her from everything, no matter how different she was. And Cathy would be there when she looked up, smiling lovingly down at her, telling her how wonderful she was and how much she cared about her. Sure, Cathy never said that before or made any indications that she thought that way, but it was her fantasies that kept her going.

The abuse from other demons started back up shortly after that. Shoving, biting, scratching, vicious maiming that left her bloody and bruised--it all seemed so much worse than it did before. Perhaps because of what her attackers would say, telling her that Cathy left because of her, that she couldn’t stand being around such a pathetic waste of space, that she would rather die than be around her for one more second, that she ran off into the human world because facing the dangers there would be better than having to be with her.

The last comment sparked something in Joan’s head mid-beating. If Cathy wasn’t in Hell, then she was somewhere else.

After a year of Cathy being missing, Joan set off to the portal to the mortal realm.

Everyone said not to go in there. Everyone said they wouldn’t make it out alive, but Joan still went anyway. All she brought with her was Cathy’s blue blanket, as the fallen angel’s scent would keep her going when she wanted to lay down and die.

And she did.

A lot.

The pits leading to the portal were worse than everyone said. They were dark, for one, and so tight in some places that Joan got stuck for several terrifying moments. There were also.../things/ down there. Awful things with sharp claws and hundreds of eyes and gnashing teeth. One that Joan encountered was pale white and wrinkly. It crawled across the cave walls and ceiling, only jumping down to cling to Joan’s back and shred her wings. She just barely managed to shake it off right as it was going to pull out her spine.

There was also something very big and very red and very scary. It broke Joan’s ribs to pieces when its tail swung into her chest. For a few moments, she stopped breathing, then splayed her claws and stuck them into the monster’s eyes. It screeched and left her alone. For now.

By the time Joan finally got to the portal, she could only crawl, much too weak to stand up. Her chest was so bruised it looked black, she was bleeding all over, one of her horns was broken, her tail was bent at an abnormal position, and she couldn’t even feel her wings anymore. In fact, she wasn’t feeling a lot of things...the pain was starting to go away…

Joan collapsed into a pool of her own blood and began to weep. Everything hurt so badly. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if she just laid here for a little while… She didn’t even have to go through the portal because when she looked up, Cathy was there, smiling at her and saying sweet things to her. Her ears were too clogged with blood to actually hear her, but she was sure they were the nicest, most loving comments ever.

Joan reached out to Cathy, and Cathy disappeared.

Only her blanket was there, so stained with blood there was only a single splotch of blue left. But Cathy’s scent still lingered.

Joan had to get up.

She crawled the rest of the way to the portal, clutching Cathy’s blanket to her chest. She leaned against the onyx mantle, breathing harshly. She stared into the swirling white mass before her, so bright it made her eyes prickle in discomfort.

“Cathy…” She mumbled, feeling very dizzy. She wanted to rest. She was so tired… “Wait...for me...Cathy… I’m...I’m coming…”

Then, she reached out and touched the portal.

There were flashes of bright white and blinding silver. Joan screamed into the light, feeling like she was being burned alive. Her little body shook with violent tremors, then began to tingle intensely.

Was she dying? Was the portal really a trap to fry demons? Was this all a trick?

Would she never see Cathy again?

Joan opened her eyes to a clear blue sky. She was laying half in green grass that wasn’t completely charred and half in water that didn’t feel like it was going to boil her. Noises sounded all around her- distant talking, far away laughing children, croaking frogs, chirping birds.

She was here.

The mortal world.

She made it.

And when she looked up, she saw her.

Cathy.

She didn’t have her wings and horns and tail, and her eyes looked normal, but it was Cathy.

“Cathy--” Joan staggered to her feet. She nearly blacked out, but clung to consciousness, which felt much weaker than it did in Hell, and began dragging her agony-infected body forward.

“Cathy, Cathy, Cathy, Cathy…” Joan mumbled over and over again. She clutched the bloody blanket close to her chest. What if Cathy got mad that she got it messy? Maybe she should go back to the pond and wash it really quickly… No, she had to see Cathy first.

Weird. Cathy seemed so happy with those humans around her. Weren’t humans disgusting and weak and useless? Why did that one in the green shirt kiss her cheek like that? And was that Jane? She remembered that she had gone missing, too. She looked different as well. Did the humans do something to them? They must have cut off their wings and tail. She had to save Cathy!!

Joan tried to run, but her knees buckled and white hot agony rocketed through her entire being. She whimpered sharply.

“Cathy, please-- I need--you--”

One of the humans, one with short brown hair, turned its head in her direction and shouted something in shock. The others all looked over and had the same reaction. But Joan was only looking at Cathy.

She dropped the blanket and reached out her shaking hands.

“Cathy…”

And then, the ground rushed up to meet her; she was back in the grass. Everything was starting to fade into darkness. She began to cry. She didn’t want to die. Not without Cathy holding her.

But the blackness was closing in. She was so weak and everything hurt so much and she was just so tired…

The last thing she remembers was someone yelling her name, then everything cut out.

She hoped Cathy wouldn’t be mad about the blanket.

#six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #six fanfic #catherine parr #joan on the keys #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #jane seymour #finding home

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studyingsobriety · 3 years

Text

Why Did I Get Help NOW

This was my second exercise for my rehab program. It's called "Why Now?" The purpose is to explain why we got help now and not a month ago or a month later. What led up to the point where I decided that I need help right now? Then, I had to write what could've happened had I not decided to get help.

Here's my story:

I was sitting in my bathroom floor. I was home alone, depressed, and wanted to get that daily high, but I wanted more this time. So I had a 100 pack of whippets (whipped cream chargers or cartridges of nitrous oxide which you can inhale). I felt guilty, ashamed, depressed, alone. I was having a panic attack so bad that I was retching into the toilet while I loaded up another whippet and hit another after another.

I knew whippets could cause seizures or even kill you, I had done enough research on it. But I liked them too much to care, they eased the pain. Part of me even hoped in that moment something dangerous would happen. That was my "rock bottom," as some call it. That was when I knew I had to change. This happened around Christmas time in 2020. As the days and weeks went by, I stopped doing the, everyday like I had been. But I would still give in every time the cravings were too intense to ignore. One day, I had another breakdown after using again. I was "sick and tired of feeling sick and tired." I was determined, and I was whippet-free for 3 weeks.

Until one day, I had another panic attack, and those cravings just came back. "It'll make you feel better." "They numb your body and your mind." "It'll make your emotions less intense." All of which were true while you're using...but after, it only gets worse. But I didn't think about the aftermath until I was sitting in my car, hitting a whippet, when someone walked up to my window. It was my roommates...I could see their hearts breaking, and it broke mine too. I wish I could say that's what brought me here and that I haven't done them since. But I did them the next day. And the next. And the next... Next thing I knew I had been using everyday again for a week.

I drained my bank account, both checking and savings. I would ask my parents for money for food and gas, but that's not what I was spending it on. I relied on my boyfriend and friends for any food. This whole time I was lying to everyone around me. Friends suspected but were too afraid to speak up. That last time I used, it was a Monday, I had class at 12. I told myself, "well, I'm going to be late anyway, might as well get some," so I did. I didn't go to class. I hit my last whippet. I had to use the bathroom, so I walked into a building on campus to use the restroom. I suddenly started crying, uncontrollably.

I felt that guilt and shame again, like I was a liar, a drug addict, I was hiding and taking money from my parents. I felt like a bad person, like I didn't deserve anything good. On top of that, I was having suicidal thoughts. I broke down, I asked my friends for help, I told them the truth. I'm lucky to have such understanding and supportive friends. One of them told me I should call the 24-hour on-call counselor we have on campus, so the next day, I did. She really, really wanted me to go to a rehab, but she wanted me to be in an inpatient rehab, which is a huge step and a big decision that I wasn't ready to make.

She set up an assessment for me with an inpatient rehab, but told me I didn't have to go if I wasn't ready. I've been in inpatient care before. In 2019, I admitted myself to a hospital for having suicidal thoughts. I had some...interesting experiences in there that scarred me a little. Of course, a rehab is different than a psych ward, but I think that lonely feeling would still be there. So I started researching outpatient rehab treatment programs. The first one I found was Lion Rock. I talked to them, and it sounded like a good fit for me. I wouldn't have to drop out of school for the semester, leave work for a few weeks, and I could still have my main support system with me (my friends and family). So it just seemed to be the best fit for me. And that's how I got here.

Now, here is what could have happened if I didn't reach out for help:

Had I not reached out for help or told anyone about my continuous use, I would've continued to use. It would've continued to be that endless cycle of "I'm depressed, some whippets would help" and "I did whippets again, I feel like I'm just a stupid drug addict." The depression would've progressed. I would continue to drown my anxiety and depression in intoxication. I would hide it from all the people willing to hold me accountable, because I wouldn't want to be held accountable. I'd rather get high than do what's best for me.

At some point after using regularly and hiding it for weeks or even months, there is only these negative outcomes of continuous use with no help:

I would be mid-whippet when my heart decides to stop or my body has a seizure from my organs getting so cold. Someone would find me in my car, with the canister still in my hand, with my lips purple, and my face cold. Whoever it would've been to find me, it would be a horrific scene for them. It would likely traumatize them for life.

I would be so depressed, so suicidal, I'd be blaming myself for everything. I'd tell myself, "this is who I am now." I would use the whippets as an act of self harm, hoping it'd kill me or give me a seizure. Praying that I'm putting myself in danger. It would be what I want. I'd want to physically hurt myself so that people can physically see my emotional pain. People don't understand what you're going through until they see it physically. Since people can't see your mental health, it's harder to understand how severe it gets sometimes unless you physically show them. And in that moment of self harming by whippets, I would hope I could physically show them my pain.

I would continue to use in a riskier manner. What I mean is, I would continue to drive while high on whippets. Driving down the road, loading one up, hitting it, holding my breath until I load up the next one, exhale, and hit another. It would be a high possibility I could kill myself. Or someone else. Worse case scenario, I kill someone else and am totally safe myself and have to live the rest of my life with the consequences. I could kill somebody's child, somebody's wife or husband, somebody's best friend, somebody's mother or father. I could have another incident where I black out while driving except actually passing out this time. I could run into a tree, run a pedestrian over, hit a motorcyclist, or just have a horrific freak vehicular accident. Granted, I could be totally fine and never actually get to the point of passing out while driving, but all of these are possibilities.

I could be sitting in my parked car or even driving down the road, hitting whippets, and a cop could possibly catch a glimpse of me inhaling something that doesn't quite look like a cigarette or vape at all. If they were to catch a glimpse and question what I'm doing, they could easily come up to my car or pull me over and ask what I was just doing. As someone who doesn't lie well, I'd freeze up, but there's no way I'd admit to a cop that I'm inhaling nitrous oxide in public or on the road. I'd probably say something like, "Oh, I was just sitting here on my phone," or "Oh, I'm just driving home, I was just hitting my vape." But they'd suspect. The bigger problem is if they'd ask me to step out of the car. That's where I'd be terrified. During my use, because I would do them so frequently in my car, there'd be piles of cartridges and boxes for whip-its! in the back of my car. They would find the numerous cartridges filling up my console, underneath the seat, in the cup holder, everywhere. The cop might not know right off the bat what it is exactly, but it would definitely be suspicious. They would ask, "what are these?" I would--not being able to lie--tell them they are whipped cream chargers. That they are used to make whipped cream. They would ask me, "why are there so many in your car?" That...I don't know what I would say. But I only see myself getting arrested at this point and possibly being reported to a rehab and being court-ordered to attend an inpatient rehab. Inpatient rehabs are scary to imagine, but being forced to be in one...even scarier.

"Whippets" could turn into something else. Like how marijuana turned into Adderall. And Adderall turned into the whippets. How do I know I wouldn't find a new substance to replace the whippet addiction? I don't know. I had tried Xanax a couple times and really liked it and craved it often, I just didn't have a source of finding it easily. I remember worrying Xanax was the next move. How would I know this replacement of one drug to another wouldn't lead me to heroin, meth, crack, or something terrible? Something that would take over my life the way marijuana, Adderall, and whippets did but is much harder to hide, harder to control. How do I know I wouldn't fuck up my brain from all the drugs? I could kill so many brain cells that I can't function. I was once hospitalized for severe anxiety and depression, I've met people who can't even function like a human because they were so messed up from the drugs they've used. I met people who couldn't relax without some xanny. How do I know that wouldn't be me in the future? I didn't know, I still don't know. It could've been me if I had continued.

Like I said, any of these scenarios would have been possibilities had I not reached out for help sooner. They were all possibilities when I was using and that's scary to think about. I have to say that I am grateful that I reached out for help myself. I wanted help before one of these scenarios became a reality. I am doing this all for me.

My takeaway from this exercise:

Writing out what led up to the point of getting help makes it clearer just how bad it really was. It's kind of sad. I knew it was a rough time, but reading it in black and white really opens my eyes, and it's crazy.

Writing what could've happened really makes me just feel...like the face palm emoji. Because not only were these scenarios possible had I continued to use, but they were all possible when I was using. And that's really scary. These scenarios really paint a picture, and not a pretty one. Overall, this exercise made me incredibly grateful that I decided to get help when I did.

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copperbadge · 2 years

Note

Sam - You probably already know this, but I just heard that Adderall is now on back-order nationwide (even worse than it had been before). If you can start trying to re-order it well before you run out this time, I'd recommend it. I don't know if that's possible, though...

Unfortunately -- but also fortunately! -- it’s not possible. Because it’s a controlled substance that can both be abused by the patient and sold for a reasonable profit, it’s got very firm regulations. You get one scrip for a 30 day supply (you can’t have more) and then on day 30 you can file a whole new scrip (no refills!) for your next 30 day supply. This is a bit bullshit because there’s no real reason not to give someone who has a history of regular non-abuse a 90 day supply or two refills, but it’s legal meth, so you know, I see why the bullshit is in place.

So it’s Bad, obviously, because it means I can’t get a refill now while there might be some still in stock; my 30-day deadline is next Friday and there’s no moving that. So that’s me fucked a bit. However, this is also Good, because it means nobody else can do this either -- you can’t create artificial demand when it comes to Adderall, because nobody can buy out the entire stock or take more than their share. So while it would be much more ideal if I had renewed my scrip last week, the demand will only rise as much as the immediate action of people who are normally slow to fill their scrips, which I can’t imagine is a lot. Like yes we all have executive dysfunction but I think a lot of us have a real laser focus on the Good Brain Drug, you know?

The real problem is an uneven backstock. Some pharmacies will probably have a reasonable amount, others will be out for weeks. The pharmacy I use is a perpetually-empty Walgreens that nobody ever goes into or uses because nobody lives near it (I work near it) so I might get lucky.

Usually, so far, the protocol for me has been "every 30 days have a consult with my psychiatrist, he puts in a new scrip, they fill it". This time, OF COURSE this time, we're trying something new -- he wrote two scrips at once, one got filled, the other one gets submitted by me on the 30 day mark. So I’ll call the pharmacy on Monday and be like “I’m not freaking out about the shortage, I just need to know when I should submit a scrip that can’t be filled until Friday” but hopefully I’ll also get some info on the shortage.

And if I can’t get any immediately, well, I take frequent breaks and often don’t take my second dose, so I did the math in my tracking sheet and I have enough to see me halfway into November, especially if I don’t take any on weekends. I don’t love breaking into my personal backstock, but that’s why it exists, after all. This is a much bigger deal for people who really need the drug for basic function -- people on higher doses are going to be significantly more fucked.

I may ask my psych next time I see him if I could get on a 20mg scrip so I can split the tabs and make a 30 day supply last 60 days; I don’t think it’s normally something he’d approve of but with the shortage it might be the best way to secure a reasonably-sized emergency stash.

And I think all of this -- the spreading of the news, the counting of backstock pills, the strategies to stabilize one’s personal supply -- are really fascinating evidence of how treating non-addicts like addicts...makes them behave like addicts. If half the population of Adderall patients had a 90 day supply in hand, this shortage wouldn’t be such an issue.

#adderall #sam has adhd #drug use

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captainmarvels · 4 years

Text

wicked games [23]

Summary: Tom's past has finally caught up to him; but will it be the be-all and end-all of his life?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment (just the words, but still warning in case)

Word Count: 2734

A/N: today is Dec. 10th which means it’s been 2 whole years since I first started writing wicked games! I want to say thank you so so so so much for reading, enjoying, and loving this story as much as I love writing it - all the excitement and love some of you have given me, chapter after chapter, has made me stick around for the long run! xx caro

masterlist | tag list - add yourself!

You know that sinking feeling - the one that roots itself in the pit of your stomach like a tree, immovable? The feeling that drowns every nerve ending in your body in anxiety? Worry? Fear?

That was all Tom could feel as goosebumps spread along his arms, a cold sheen of sweat appearing across his forehead.

“Toyko? For a whole year?” His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his skull from the building stress.

Dom nodded, a smug grin replacing the eerie smile he donned before.

“You and Harrison used to go on and on about the Asian market this, the Asian market that, and I figured that the fifth year anniversary of your company was as good a time as any to start up a new headquarters abroad,”

“How can you expect me to just up and leave for an entire year?” Tom asked, no longer hiding the shock on his face.

Dom shrugged. “Easy. You just do it, Thomas. You’re the CEO, for God’s sake! How can you expect to run a company of this magnitude well if all you do is sit on your lazy arse!”

Tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as Dom continued.

“I’m handing you the chance to expand and grow your company in a new direction, on a silver fuckin’ platter, and all you do is complain. I don’t understand how children can be so ungrateful,”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I am an adult, who is fully capable of making decisions for my company-”

“Is that so, Tom? Are you fully capable of handling the blow back from the media, your partners, the entire fucking world if they knew what you’ve done behind closed doors? Don’t think I’m ignorant enough to not know when my own blood is a drunken coke addict.”

The deafening silence seemed to swallow Dom’s words, yet they still rang clear as day in Tom’s ears.

Taking a deep breath, Dom set down another folder on Tom’s desk, and headed straight for the door before stopping, his hand gripping the handle tightly.

“Your flight leaves the 4th, at 11am. Don’t be late.”

“I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself, mate. Your dad knows?”

Harrison was pacing the floor of his apartment living room, hands fussing with the mess of curls on his head.

Tom sat on the sofa, eyes shut tightly as he replayed the conversation with his father in his mind.

“Oi, if he knows about the coke, then he has to know it was me, right? Why’d I have to be your goddamn drug dealer, Holland?”

“I don’t fucking know, alright? I didn’t think he’d ever find out about the coke, but if he knows about that, he’s got to know about all the other shit I’ve done,”

“You haven’t done meth, have you?”

Tom looked up at Harrison, his glare more than enough to shut up his best friend.

“Look. He knows about the coke; doesn’t mean he knows it was from you,”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I was practically your only friend at Stanford, you idiot!” He scoffed.

“Fuck off, Haz! Listen to me - Dom’s a fucking prick, but I’m used to the threats. He’s nothing more than talk, alright? If he did anything to me, it’d taint the whole family name, and that’s not what he wants. He’d die before he lets anyone, even me, ruin the family legacy he’s spent years building.”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counting his breaths as Harrison resumed his pacing.

“Have you told…”

Tom shook his head. “I haven’t even gone home yet. I came straight here, I had to sort out my thoughts and everything,”

Harrison dropped down on the couch next to Tom, and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You are gonna tell her, yeah?”

“I promised her no more secrets, mate. Besides… it’s hard to hide the fact that I'll be gone for a year.” Tom leaned back, eyes fluttering shut once again as he tried to steady his racing heart.

“And the drugs? Does she know about all that?”

Tom’s silence was enough of a response for Harrison.

“You said no more secrets, right? This will come back and bite you in the ass, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But I can’t just go dumping every one of my fucking problems on her, Haz. Everything with my dad is already too much for even me to handle - I can’t expect her to handle all this right off the bat. I need to focus on her and what we have - I just got her back.”

“You have a point. You’re really gonna do this, then? Leave for a whole year?” Harrison could feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Opening his eyes, Tom glanced over at him. “There’s not much else I can do, can I? He’s already signed the lease for the apartment, and the check for the office space is waiting for my signature. There’s over three dozen resumes sitting on my desk, and I have to interview candidates as soon as I get off the plane.” With every word that rolled off his tongue, Tom could feel his anxiety spiking. He really was trapped.

“Tough shit, mate.” As they locked eyes with one another, neither could stop from breaking out in laughter. Tom shoved Harrison off the couch, only to receive a kick to the shoulder.

“You’re gonna pay for that!”

“Bring it on!”

When Tom asked you to take a seat, you could feel your heart folding over itself as it began to brave for the worst.

Harrison sat next to you on the sofa, with (what was supposed to be) an encouraging arm wrapped around your shoulders, but it only brought more anxiety and tension.

What was going on?

Tom was pacing back and forth, his hands buried in the pockets of his suit.

“Should I be concerned?” You whispered in Harrison’s ear. He shook his head no, never taking his eyes off of Tom.

“My bastard of a father wants me to go to Tokyo for a year - for the sake of the company, or so he says.” Tom stopped in front of the tv, one hand on his hip, and the other on the back of his neck.

Oh. An all too familiar sinking feeling appeared, replacing the anxiety that had begun to consume you.

“He’s already got an apartment for me, and a deal’s been negotiated for office space in one of the best locations in the city - all that’s left for me to do is sign the check.”

You sat up, resting your chin on your hands as you repeated Tom’s words over. He could see the gears turning in your mind, and he wasn’t too sure if that was a good sign.

“He doesn’t do this sort of thing often, does he?” You aired the question for both of them, but clearly it took them aback.

“What do you mean by that?” Harrison asked, brows furrowed. Tom met your gaze and nodded.

“From what I know and have heard, seen, and whatnot - Dom really doesn’t seem to stick his nose in company affairs most of the time. Only when he needs something, in some sort of capacity. For example - why did he give you the money to start the company in the first place? What motivated him to sign a check for over $4 million to his inexperienced - sorry! - son?”

Locking eyes with one another, Tom and Harrison seemed to share the same memory at that exact moment.

It was three in the morning when Dom got the call from Tom’s bodyguard.

“You’ll need to be present if you want him out on bail.” He heard over the phone.

“Is that Osterfield boy with him?” He asked, still groggy.

“Yes, but he was not arrested. He tried to stop him and-”

“Enough. Tell him to go home. Tom can sit in jail for a few more hours. Let them know I’ll be there with the cash before 8.”

The entire car ride back to his apartment, Tom couldn’t stop fidgeting.

He fucked up. Worse than any other time, and he knew this was going to cost him.

Recognizing the iron-wrought gates of the family estate, Tom glanced over at Dom.

“Your mother is in London with the twins. We need to talk, and I’m not setting foot in the dungeon you call an apartment.”

As the SUV came to a rolling stop outside the front door, Tom bit down on his tongue.

Every time he did something wrong - arrested for possession of marijuana, Adderall, coke; quite possibly every drug imaginable- or caused a scene at some fancy nightclub, Dom was there to break his fall.

That break always came with a price.

Sometimes the price was as simple as losing a percentage of his trust fund money. That didn’t bother him as much, considering $75,000 was mere change in his pocket. Other times, however, the price was a gamble. Like the time his father had to pay off a landlord so he wouldn’t break the lease after Tom and Harrison completely wrecked the vacation house they had been renting.

Tom wasn’t sure what this would cost him this time around.

They had barely entered the mansion foyer when Dom turned on his heel, and locked eyes with his son.

“You’ve been 21 for less than six months, and yet you’ve managed to put yourself through the goddamn ringer almost every week since then. Do you even care about your fucking reputation anymore, Thomas? Or any idea what this could do to the company?”

Fuck. The company.

The night of his 21st birthday, his father had signed him the coveted check for well over four million dollars - a check that wouldn’t be deposited in his account until he proved to Dom that he could get his shit together, put on a suit, and take on the role of CEO.

As his father had put it - Tom had had his fun, but as his undergraduate career came to an end, he needed to start focusing on making a name for himself; getting a seat at the table that was his birthright.

A start-up was just what he needed to set himself straight.

The project was well underway - it had made headlines the day Dom purchased the most lavish office space New York City had to offer. The plan was simple - have the company up and running smoothly by the time Tom graduated, so he could slip on the CEO suit and take over.

But nothing was ever simple when it came to Tom.

He had fought for hours with his father before they finally settled on an agreement for the money that night - only for Dom to turn around and slap him with a hold on the funds.

And here he was, rubbing it in once again.

“Are you listening? Graduation is months away, and yet here I am, bailing you out of jail for being a pathetic son of a bitch.”

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Tom spat, anger flooding every inch of his body. He won’t get away with this.

“I don’t even know anymore, Thomas.” His father sighed. “But this I know for sure; you fuck up like this again, and you can kiss the company and your trust fund goodbye.”

Tom’s jaw dropped, eyes threatening to pop out of his head from the utter disbelief.

“No you- you can’t fucking do that!”

“I can, and I will. I listed the company under the living trust, with the conditions we agreed upon the night of your birthday. If I deem it necessary, everything in the trust will be seized. You will have nothing if you don’t get your act together.”

“Is the company still part of the trust?” Your mind was trying to process everything Harrison and Tom had just laid out for you, but that was the one piece of information that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Harrison looked at Tom. Tom bit his lip.

“If the company is still listed in the trust, mate -”

“That means your father still has control over it-”

“He can just do whatever he wants, can’t he?” Tom fell to his knees, brushing off the agonizing pain in his bones as you came to him, your arms enveloping him completely.

Harrison felt a familiar sting in the corner of his eye as he walked over to his best friend and crouched down by his side.

“We’ve got you, mate.”

Once you were able to finally calm Tom down, you discussed in detail exactly what the plan was going to be. Even if it wasn’t what any of you wanted.

Tom decided he would agree to Tokyo if, and only if, he was able to bring his two best assets - you and Harrison. He planned to go to the office early Monday morning to call Dom and see if he could convince him.

It was the best you could all come up with.

Sunday morning, you remembered you’d forgotten a stack of letters at the office, which you needed to sign so they could be mailed out first thing Monday morning. With Tom at a conference upstate, you ended up having to head into the office by yourself.

When the elevator bell rang at the top floor, you were surprised to see the lights were already on in the waiting area.

Who else is here?

Making a sharp left turn at the end of the hall, you decided to move as quickly as possible - the motion sensor lights only lasted 10 minutes, so whoever set them off was still in the office, somewhere.

You spotted the stack of letters on your desk, and working diligently, got them all put away nice and neat in your briefcase.

A soft knock on your door nearly gave you a heart attack.

Dropping the case to the ground, you look up and lock eyes with the last person you ever expected to cross paths with.

“I hope you don’t have the company’s secrets tucked away in there, dear.”

Dom was looming in the doorway, his smile wavering as you just stared at one another.

Why the fuck was he there?

“I seem to have startled you, and I’m quite sorry about that - I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here on such a nice day,” He was a boulder blocking your path of escape, and your growing anxiety was making your skin crawl.

“I don’t know- I don’t know how I got to be so distracted, but I forgot these- these, um-” You picked up the briefcase, dropping your gaze from Dom as you ran the palm of your hand over the soft leather. “I have to get these letters signed so they can be sent out first thing in the morning.”

“Signing letters? Seems like such a clerical task for a woman in your position,” He took a step forward, and you stepped back, your hip hitting the side of your desk.

“I uh, wouldn’t really say that-” Tripping over your words, Dom could see you were on edge.

“No? Then what exactly does my son have you work on here? When you’re not busy attending to his… other needs.”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at Tom’s father in disbelief. Does he… know?

“You see, darling,” Dom took another step forward, and you found yourself pressed against the window, struggling to keep your balance. “As a father… well, parents are always fussing over their children, aren’t they? I’m worried about Tom, and I know you probably know him better than I, and, well. I need to ask a favor of you.”

The look on his face was something that would haunt you forever.

His index finger was tracing the photograph frame on your desk, his eyes never leaving yours.

Without another word, he pulled out a folded up piece of paper, and held it out to you. Encouraging you with a nod of his head, you grabbed the sheet, and unfolded it, your eyes scanning over its entirety while an uncomfortable sense of nausea filled your stomach.

New York Police Department

34th District

Report

Scrawled in blue ink were the words that would leave anyone distressed.

Sexual Harassment.

tags - part one:

@cherrynat @anytimebitches @jobean12-blog @emotchalla @enigma-xlii @illletitgrow @cloverrover @justaveryobsessedfangirl @ssweet-empowerment @killmongerdreams @spideytrxsh @eyestheyseeyou @aussie-mantle @spidergirlwanab @i-think-i-am-adorable @amanda51015-blog @princessskylarsblog @whoneedsalifeanyhowxx @chinalois @clairesrainbow @darkerthanspace @slighttinsomniac @curlytomholland @wanderlustomaha @hollandazing @mendes-marvel @wowspideyholland @joshuatparker

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #ceo!tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x reader angst

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shamelesslymkp · 4 years

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so you’re working a twelve-hour shift and you’re adhd as fuck: some tips from someone who’s been there

OK! so I metabolize medications BIZARRELY fast (I take the extended release version of adderall, which allegedly is supposed to have a 12 hour window of effectiveness but in my case only remains effective for about 6 hours* - instant release is even worse, only effective for 3ish hours rather than the expected 6) AND work long shifts (currently 10 hours but have worked 12 in the past) and so I’ve picked up some tricks along the way!

Trick #1: Move the Midpoint

if you can commute safely without your meds, wait to take them until AFTER you’ve arrived at work. in office jobs*, there tends to be about an hour of wind-up time at the beginning of the day and an hour of wind-down at the end of the day; the longer the shifts, the more true this holds. (fun fact! apparently people get LESS done during a 12-hour shift than they do during an 8-hour shift. who’da thunk?) Take advantage of this! Get your coffee together and your shit set up before taking your meds. Depending on the length of your commute, you’ve just moved your entire efficacy window an hour or two later - the meds aren’t lasting any longer than they normally do, but you’re maximizing the period of effectiveness.

*in shiftwork, food service, retail, etc. unfortunately this is not really the case and you’re not going to be able to push it forward any further than that, realistically speaking.

Trick #2: Supplement With Other Stimulants

OK, this one’s pretty self-explanatory and likely something you’re already doing, but seriously. If you can tolerate caffeine, USE IT.** This is going to be most helpful at the end of the day when your meds are still in your system and affecting you but are no longer actually effective. It’s giving you a gestalt of milder stimulants that should, when combined, have the effect of a stronger stimulant.

I personally find energy drinks to be the most effective method, because they’ve got more stimulants in them than just caffeine, but ymmv on what your body will tolerate.

**If you already have a faster heartbeat than normal or any arrhythmias please do not do this or at least not without talking to your doctor first; this hasn’t ever been a problem for me but my brother had to go off of adderall because his resting heart rate increased to like, 90 beats per minute. if you have anxiety, this may make it noticeably worse; you may have trouble falling asleep; etc. etc. standard stimulant warnings

Trick #3: Talk to Your Doctor

Your mileage will vary here; take into account your doctor’s level of assholery about prescribing adhd meds in the first place and your insurance’s (assuming you have insurance) level of assholery about paying for adhd meds, but if you’re currently taking a short-acting/instant-release version of an adhd med, see if you can get a prescription for a longer-acting/extended-release version, for an additional dose of the short-acting, or for a supplemental med for at the end of the day. Be very clear about the fact that your workday is longer than the generally accepted theraputic interval for the med in question; start the conversation by describing the impact on your job performance and then continue describing the impact to your adls AFTER work. Make sure to KNOW the typical length of efficacy for the medication you’re taking and specifically cite it in addition to the more specific/qualitative description to how long it’s effective for you personally.

Trick #4: I Lied. That’s All I’ve Got, Sorry.

Good luck! ADHD is difficult to manage even with medication, but you’re trying and fuck anyone who says you’re not.

*nowadays I have an RX for the XR twice a day, but that still only gets me basically through the workday and not much further, and because I am at the non-existent mercy of the american health care system I sometimes make the choice to forego a second dose in case of fuck-ups preventing me from getting my refill on time)

#ain't no other mkp #mkp isn't neurotypical #actually adhd

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the-sober-story-so-far · 4 years

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A pre-snippet to the past 10 years

Hi there, i’ve got quite a few posts to catch up on since i’m on day 3 of sobriety but I feel like any story should start with where I was these past 10 years. I became a mother at 19, happily. My son was planned, I had met the love of my life a bassist in a metal band and fell in love with the lifestyle that came with it.

When I had first met Matthew I had never partied before, I was in a very abusive relationship before where I wasn’t allowed to experience what most teens did. Parties, drugs,drinking, hell even my proms. So when I met Matt (before i was pregnant keep in mind) I went wild. We would party almost every night, we fell in love fast too. One of those loves that just hit you right in your face like a bullet. We were inseparable and we were both wild as could be. Once we had decided to slow down and stop going out as much we decided we wanted to get married and start a family together no matter how young we knew that regardless it was meant to be. So we were engaged, we were actually trashed when we got engaged it was pretty punk rock if I say so myself. In the middle of an alley in baltimore, he didn’t have a ring and it didn’t matter. We were just jamming to some Coheed and Cambria in my car drinking a 30 pack parked in this alley when he suddenly told me to get out of the car and follow him. At that point he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I thought he was just drunk or joking at first and I remember I kept asking him the next day if he was serious well, obviously it turns out he was.

So fast forward a bit, we were engaged and started trying to get pregnant and it took a few months but with luck we ended up pregnant. We decided to get married at the courthouse since we were already on the way to getting married that year anyways. Then we had our beautiful son, I was sober my entire pregnancy. I remember the first week after I had him I got trashed though just to celebrate 9months of pain and hell but at this point i was still a social drinker. The toddler years were happy years, we would only drink on the weekends or here and there when friends would come over. It wasn’t to the point where I had a problem yet.

Then he turned 4, and life got really hard. Problems with my family arose, financial problems as well. My mental health declined and i was diagnosed with Bipolar Type 2, as well as OCD, Severe Depressive, Severe Anxiety and Borderline personality Mercurial type. As well as having PTSD from my childhood with my parents. My mom almost passed when I was younger from liver failure. She ended up having a transplant and living. I had an emotionally abusive father, my mother’s mental health was never stable I actually use to remember her waking me up at 4 am and screaming at me as a child for things I had done the day before. I witnessed so many fights and insane moments a child shouldn’t. I then ended up in an abusive relationship from 14-18 with a boy who would hit me, verbally abuse me, gaslight me, manipulate me and then one day eventually sexually assault me in my sleep. The thing about trauma is it always catches up to you.

And that’s where I think it all started going wrong, it began catching up. I moved out in my first apartment with my husband and my son and finally had freedom. We had lots of parties, I met lots of “friends” who only cared about where the next party was or who had the drugs. I began partying more and more, and made decisions I was not proud of. Including hurting my husband more than I ever could have even fathomed, I don’t like to speak of it. I have faced my guilt about it daily but in short I was unfaithful. Even if it was one time, it was inexcusable. My cousin had moved in with me, and though I love her back in that time she wasn’t the best influence either. She always wanted to party or smoke weed as well. We became partners in crime, we always wanted to get into some chaos and have fun. Then we were forced to move back to my parents all 4 of us this time due to a shooting in my apartment complex where we were no longer safe. It was unbearable living there during that time, before my mom began fixing herself and facing her own demons and dealing with my father and his emotionally abusive ways.

So we ended up moving to my grandparents, where we were later kicked out of for having people over partying almost every night. At that point I had also assumed I wanted to be polyamorous, which indeed I am not. I am bisexual yes, but the polyamory was just an excuse in my own mind not to work on my own marriage and fix the damage I had unleashed upon it. When we lived at my grandparents was when the peak in my drinking began. I began drinking daily with my cousin starting early in the morning drinking bottles of rum and vodka all day to the point of blacking out, mixing clonopin with it. Smoking spice, smoking weed, just drugs and booze constantly. One night I overdosed and slit my wrists so bad that the scars are still there to this day I am lucky to be alive and you’d have thought that would have been enough to stop me from my path of destruction but it did not.

I did end up quitting spice, once we were kicked out of my grandparents I saved money at my job and we rented a place with my cousin and a “friend”, the drinking only got worse there. More parties, more drugs. I started dabbling with Molly and Adderall while i was there and almost ecstasy. My mental health declined so bad due to being worried about a relationship with a girl I thought I loved and spending my money on substance that we lost our house after I lost my job.

I moved back home again with my parents, just my husband, my son and myself and the drinking continued then for a few months it was daily drinking until one day I did finally get sober and quit drinking, months later I started to become incredibly sick and was still sober but thought I had cancer from how violently ill I was but I was too afraid to go to a doctor for it, instead in my fucked up mind I decided to attempt suicide twice. I lost many friends along this journey from the choices I made, and from who I was. I felt that being sick was my penance for being such a piece of shit for so long.

Months passed after this, I was sick for at least 9 more months vomiting at least 9 times daily sometimes more. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t shit and I knew something was wrong but I had doctors who didn’t care to find out, who brushed it off as IBS because I was “young and healthy”. 9 months they let it go, it turned out to be my appendix and a dead bowel. The day my appendix ruptured sepsis poured into my abdomen and i was dying, I was actually dying like I had wished for all those years and then it was in that moment that I knew I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live, I wanted to fight. I had my surgery and had 3 months of severe complications including seizures, fluid ruptures and a massive hole left in my abdomen from those fluid ruptures. September of that same year my intestine popped up below the surface of my skin and I had to have my first hernia surgery, it was successful until November of last year when it tore open and I had my final one. During the process I was foolish enough to keep the same doctors, to be dismissed over and over until the first hernia surgery when I had finally had enough and found doctors who actually cared. However, now I have severe PTSD with practitioners not to mention a nurse who physically and sexually assaulted me and a doctor who possibly did while I was under anesthesia. This is getting back to the trauma creeping up on you, it all has a purpose.

So, I went through severe anxiety, and experienced what real PTSD was. I was still sober until one night my husband and his friends and myself were all hanging out in the garage and they said have a beer you’ll be fine and that was when it all started again.

I used to look forward to every Friday and Saturday just wanting to get drunk to feel something, all the while i was still using marijuana daily as well. Well, maybe not to feel something i’d say more to feel nothing. And then it went from 6 drinks to 12 drinks, from Saturdays and Sundays to every day of the week. From 6 packs daily to 12 packs daily. From 12 packs daily to 15 drinks daily, from 15 to 18 and so on. This was a year ago i relapsed and this is my first 3 days sober since it all happened.

This is to document my journey, this is to look back and feel pride in how far i’ve come and this is so that I know I can do anything and how much I refuse to go backwards. If you’re reading this, i hope if you are in a place where I was it gives you strength, I hope you never feel alone.

Welcome to my sobriety diaries.

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headfullofstories · 4 years

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Truly Monstrous Luck - part 2

I wake up in a new room, and the first thing I notice is that my binder is off. Fuck. I bolt upright and bring my arms up to cover my chest. Oh no, oh no no no no no. If someone had to take it off of me, then… someone saw my body. I throw up a little bit in my mouth at the thought.

I look around the room I'm in. I'm on a cot, and… oh god, there're my tits. I curl my knees up to block them from sight, and continue to survey my surroundings. The room as a few more cots scattered about, most of them empty. There's a desk at the end of the room, currently occupied by a girl who looks a little older than me, skin the color of volcanic glass - a sort of deep blackish purple, covered in white freckles that look like stars. Her lavender hair is tied up into a bun, and she's wearing a denim jacket. Fuck, she's pretty.

She looks up at me suddenly, corneas jet black and irises a startling silver. If I was still alive I’d probably have a ridiculous blush all across my face right now.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “Yvonne was freaking out when you collapsed, thought she pushed you too hard with that walk, which was… kind of the case, but c’mon dude, you had to know this was gonna happen if you kept this thing on.” She holds up my ratty old Underworks binder, stretched and worn from years of constant use. I’m not quite sure the last time I took that thing off, whether it was last night or the day before, but my ribs are sore as hell now.

“There’s a recommended maximum time to wear these for a reason, y’know.” She sighs, dropping it onto the desk and picking up a walkie talkie. “Yvonne?” She asks into the radio, “your kid’s awake.”

A few moments later Yvonne runs through the doorway at the far side of the room near the desk, looks around the room for a moment and sees me.

“Oh thank god.” She sighs, walking up to me. “Camilla said it was probably nothing to worry about, but… I didn’t wanna cause you more grief today.”

“You gonna adopt every single fledgling you find, Yvonne?” The girl at the desk grumbles, looking down at her phone. “That’s… five now, right? Over the past 15 years? You should introduce New Kid to the others.”

“Well, none of my other 4 have left, which is a lot more than can be said for a lot of people here.” Yvonne reasons, before turning back to me. “I’m sorry that we had to take the binder off, Victor, but you’re not supposed to sleep with it on. Or do strenuous activity, which is on me, but you really should follow the doctor’s recommendations on these things.”

“I know, but… it’s… too much, sometimes, not to wear it.” I reply cautiously, doing my best to use the right words. “I get sensory overload really easily, and looking at my body makes it… a lot worse, most of the time. Being on T has helped with a lot of the visual dysphoria, but until I get surgery I’m gonna risk it with the long hours.”

The girl at the desk grumbles something under her breath, then picks up her walkie talkie again and mutters something into the speaker. Yvonne looks saddened by this and mutters something about the healthcare system in this country, but doesn’t object outright. After a few minutes Arthur walks into the room, exchanges a few brief words with the girl at the desk, then walks over to me and stands next to where Yvonne is sitting. He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

“Hey kid, what are your thoughts on top surgery?” He asks, sounding a little fed up. “Because what happened today can’t happen again, and if you fuck up your ribs there’s only so much vampiric healing can fix, and you’re gonna have a bitch of an afterlife.”

My vision goes double for a moment as I try to process what I just heard. “T-top surgery?”

“We have contacts at this practice out on Long Island, some people who are… specially equipped to handle people like us.” He elaborates, “We’ll cover all of the medical expenses, so you won’t have to worry about selling your fucking soul to the american healthcare system.”

Against my better judgement, I start sobbing. Arthur looks confused and Yvonne looks worried.

“Hey kid, you good?” Arthur inquires cautiously.

“I'm really sorry,” I manage to blubber out between hiccups, “but… th-that’s the closest thing to good news I’ve had in m-m-months.”

He nods. “I had bad luck when I was your age, too. Broke a rib wearing ace bandages when i was 19, couldn't bind for a year and damn near killed myself. In a fucked up way, dying was the best thing to happen to me.”

I look up at him, wipe my tears out of my eyes, and calm down a little. “You-you’re trans?”

He flashes a demonic looking smile, all teeth and a bit of pride, and lifts up his shirt to flash twin scars sprawling across his chest.

"Came out at the Stonewall Riots when I was 18 years old." He explains, still smiling wide and wild. “Year and a half before I was turned; when that happened I was a little younger than you, I think.”

I look at him in awe. “I’ve never met a trans person that was so much older than me.”

“For real?” He snorts, crossing his arms. “I should introduce you to Liz, then. 600 years old, turned when she was 14, didn't start transitioning until she was 87. I think she came over here on a Spanish Galleon, I'm pretty sure she originally made landfall in Guatemala..."

"Art, I know you're trying to focus, but you keep getting off topic." The girl at the desk yells over.

"Thank you Camilla, I realize that." He growls at the girl. Oh, so she's the Camilla person Yvonne mentioned. "Shit, did I forget to take my adderall again?”

I suddenly realize I don’t know where my backpack is. Oh fuck no, that thing has everything I own in it - my T, my journal, my charger, my spare clothes…

"Where's my backpack?" I ask Yvonne, panicked. I can feel my leg start involuntarily bouncing. “I need it, it has everything I have in it…”

Yvonne leans down and reaches under the cot I’m on and pulls out my ratty jansport, setting it down on my lap. I cling to it for dear life. It’s too late to stop the shaking, but at least it’s not gonna get any worse.

I see Yvonne go to rest her hand on my shoulder, but Arthur grabs her wrist and mutters something in her ear. My vision goes out of focus again as I try to calm myself down.

After a few minutes the shaking stops and I look up at the two now even more worried adults in front of me.

"Sorry…" I mutter, looking at my feet. "I… I need to know where this thing is or I… lose it, a little. It's really stupid, I don't know why it happens, it's super overreactive… my teachers all thought I just wanted attention in school."

“They…” Arthur starts, then hisses something unintelligible before looking at me in the eyes. The eye contact makes me a little nervous, but I do my best to hold it. “You’re not looking for attention if you have big emotions. That’s bullshit.”

I look down at my hands now, pulling at my joints and popping my knuckles. “My parents always said I’m broken and my brother thinks it’s something I can manage. I love my brother, but it’s… hard to get him to understand.”

He nods a little, then looks over at Camilla. “Can you check when Boris is open next?” He shouts over, to which Camilla gives a thumbs up. He turns his attention back to me, and shoots me a quick finger gun. “You need a new bus card, right? And you were going to your brother’s house when you got attacked, did you call him when you were heading over?”

I shake my head. “He was at work when I was heading over, and I have a key to his apartment so I was just gonna head over and wait for him.”

“Do you feel comfortable staying here for the night?”

"I think… that'll be better than going to my brother's house. I’m not sure if I can deal with the subway yet…”

He nods, mutters something to Yvonne, then heads out. Yvonne stretches out her hand, a silent invitation to get up and follow her. I take it after a moment of consideration, suddenly overwhelmingly nervous about my entire situation. What if these people are bad? What if they want to use me? I consider running, but after a moment I start thinking logically again. At the very least, Yvonne and Arthur are good. That’s enough for right now.

I grab my binder from Camilla on the way out, her silver eyes piercing my very soul, a silent warning to bind properly. I put the binder in my backpack, and throw the bag over my shoulder.

Yvonne guides me through ancient looking halls, lined with candelabras fitted with dim mercury light bulbs. I pull out my phone to check the time - 1:34PM. Shit, the day’s still only halfway done. I try to read Yvonne’s expression as we walk, but all I see is worry. No indication of where we might be going or what Arthur was whispering to her about.

Some people look at us as we walk by - some stare for a moment, but mostly they just glance briefly then look away. I keep as close as I can to Yvonne, and eventually we stop in front of a big pair of wooden doors.

“This is the common room,” she explains, gesturing towards the doors. “It has the best wifi in the building, it also has public computers, some books, board games… the works. I’ll leave you here, but feel free to explore around. There are signs at most of the intersecting hallways, so it’s not too hard to get lost around here, but most people will be willing to give you directions if you get turned around. You good with that, Victor?”

I give her a thumbs up, and hang outside of the common room until she disappears down the hallway. I debate going inside for a moment, but decide against it. There’s probably people in there, and people means social interaction. It means people seeing me without my binder on. I subconsciously start hitting the heels of my hands together as I debate what to do from here before deciding to head further down the hallway, away from where Yvonne and I came from. I cross my arms in an attempt to hide my chest, which is a little counterintuitive since it's probably just drawing more attention to that area.

I walk around for a few minutes without really seeing anybody, and after a little while I start to zone out, looking at the ironwork on the candelabras instead of where I’m walking, when I bump into someone. I yelp and jump back out of instinct, and the other person falls to the ground.

“I-I’m sorry!” I squeak as I start to fiddle with my backpack straps. “I didn’t see you!”

The person I knocked down, a boy with black hair and dark brown eyes, growls at me as he stands back up, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Um, m-m-my name’s Victor.” I respond, on the verge of tears.

“Alright, Victor, what the fuck are you? What are you doing here?” As soon as he’s fully upright he starts examining every detail of my face, and I realize that my mouth is still slightly open, so I slap a hand over it to cover my fangs.

“Oh, you’re a vamp.” He grumbles. “Were you one of those assholes who sells their blood to rogues, one of em went too far, threw you out?”

Suddenly I’m crying again. Three times in one day, what the hell? I start scratching my arms to try and counteract it. I try my best to look even smaller.

“Wh- oh fuck, don’t cry! I… fuck, I’m such a dumbass!” He hits his head a couple times. “Look, I’m really sorry, I have really bad impulse control issues, that was just the first thing that came to mind. Uh…”

It takes all of my willpower, but I manage to stop crying, only thing now the stimming is worse. I start hitting the heels of my hands together and tapping my left foot uncontrollably. “Um… thanks for the apology. Most of the time when I start crying I just get yelled at even worse.”

He looks at me, mild horror on his face, which I’m not quite sure if it’s from what he said earlier or what I said just now. “That’s fucked up.” He mutters, then he outstretches his hand. “I’m Adrian. Again, so sorry about what I said, I do not know what came over me. You’ve probably had a really rough day, huh?”

I take his hand after a brief moment of hesitation. His grip is really strong, I think normally I would be a little hurt by it but now it just feels like a very firm grip… wait, can I still be anemic if I'm a vampire?

"Um, yeah." I laugh a little, slightly intimidated by this guy. I'm automatically a little scared of anyone who makes me cry, but… I don't know. "It was kind of a shitty day before, but then with the… getting jumped and everything, and my life kind of being over, it's just been a whole lot worse."

"God, I'm an asshole." He says, a forced grin plastered to his face. "I completely understand if you never want to interact with me again."

"I'll think on that." I respond as I bring my arms back across my chest and start to focus on the wall right next to his head. "Uh, nice to meet you? Kind of?"

"Um, likewise." He responds as he shoves his hands in his pockets and walks off quickly. That was... weird.

#original story #spooky monsters n shit #this is maybe the most self indulgent thing ive ever written i have no goals in mind for this guy but im havin a good time

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justanotherdeadgirlwalking · 4 years

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That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part One.

Cynthia said I had to go to school today. “It’s your senior year Connor,” she said, “you can’t miss the first day,” which was just complete bullshit. I tried to compromise, “I’ll go tomorrow,” I told her. No, I had to go. Mom just wanted to get me out of the house after watching me sleep and sit in my room all summer. “Today’s a chance to go make some friends” she told me.

Look it’s not my fault that I don’t have any fucking friends, and it’s not my fault that I can’t make friends because everyone thinks of me as big, bad Connor Murphy, the freak. I’m not a freak. People just have this false idea of me in their head and have never taken the time to actually get to know me. I’ve always been a hot topic of rumors, even though I’ve never done anything really worth talking about. Except the incident in second grade. Someone explain to me why something so stupid that happened when I was 8 years old is something people still use to talk shit about me. It is still a story that gets told from time to time, “oh stay away from Connor Murphy, he’s batshit crazy. He once threw a printer at Mrs. G. because he didn’t get to be line leader” That’s not the whole story. No one knows what really happened because they weren’t even there. I mean, yes I was upset that I didn’t get to be line leader, even though it was my turn, and yes I did shove the table that the printer was on, which caused it to fall. So, I mean, I guess I threw the printer in a sense, but what does it matter? I was a child. Do you know how much embarrassing shit people did in elementary school that doesn’t get talked about because, well geez, they were children, and they’ve grown since then. Fucking Alana Beck peed her pants probably seven times that year, but we don’t talk about that. Whatever.

Most likely, no one is going to be telling that story this year. There’s some new hot gossip about me. See, I spent my junior year at a private school. It was awesome, I actually had a friend, and I was doing well, but I got kicked out. They did random locker searches, and I had weed in my locker, barley half a gram. The best part is, the weed wasn’t even mine. Not that anyone cares, not that anyone is going to ask, or listen to my side of the story. Ironically, they found so much Adderall, in probably 50 lockers, and they got away without so much as a warning. So, pills are okay, I guess, but marijuana isn’t.

Look, unlike what my parents might think, it isn’t dangerous or addicting or bad. Newsflash weed doesn’t hurt anyone. You can’t die from being too high, but pills, you can die from taking too many pills. I told them that too, I showed them statistics and research to convince them marijuana isn’t bad, they sent me to rehab to help with my ‘addiction,’ but all it did was teach me new, worse habits and prescriptions for mood stabilizers.

I’ve always been on medications to try to help me with the depression and paranoia, but I don’t like how they make me feel. Usually, I keep the pills hidden so Mom and Dad don’t catch on that I’m not taking them. I just prefer weed anyways; weed just calms me down, while the other crap I’ve been prescribed puts in a zombie like daze. I just smoke a little weed every now and then to help me get through the day.

People are going to say whatever they want, but I guess that it doesn’t help that I smell like pot anyways. That smell, no matter how many times you wash your clothes or spray your belongings with ferbreeze, never goes away. Regardless, I know I’m not the only stoner, not that I’m a stoner, but most people act like it’s a fucking personality trait to smoke. They’ll go online and post pictures of their bowls and blunts, thinking that they’re cool, but I’m a burnout freak because I smoke.

Despite my protests, I found myself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car as she drove me to school. Some people might think it’s lame to be driven around by their little sister, but I fucking hate driving. I get too distracted, plus, other people drive like absolute nimrods. I got enough stress in my life, why add the stress of driving.

The first day of school is always a waste; you never do anything meaningful or important. People just spend the day catching up with friends, talking obnoxiously loud about their trip to Italy, or how they built houses for the homeless, and you just do ridiculous ice breakers and make nametags. It’s not like I’m going to learn anything, I’m just going to sit through hours of “two truths and a lie.” Plus, I’ll have to sit through the embarrassment of no one volunteering to guess which of my statements is the lie. No one wants to waste their time with that. Though, I will admit, I came up with some good ones this year, “My birthday is 420, I like to draw, and I have a dog.” The lie, obviously, is that I have a dog. I’ve always wanted one, but Larry has always said no, “they’re too messy.”

I try not to let other people bother me. I just focus my gaze straight ahead, walking as quick as I can to my first class, avoiding obstacles the best I can. In my opinion, people that stand in the middle of the hallway to have their conversation do not deserve rights. Hi, you, and your conversation is not more important than me trying to get to class. Have some fucking decency and at least move over to the side, Jesus Christ. On the bright side, people do tend to move out of my way. It might be out of fear, but it’s convenient. I put my head down as I cut through the middle of two people. “Hey Connor” a boy calls, “Nice hair length,” he continues, “very ‘school-shooter’ chic.” Wow, was that really necessary; did they really have to stop me to tell me that? That’s what I need too: Connor Murphy, not only a freak, but also looks like a school shooter.

I stop in my tracks with a heavy thud as my boots hit the ground. I whip around to face the voice. I look up with a narrow gaze and see Jared Kleinman and Evan Hansen. They are two nobodies like me, but I guess they think they’re better than me.

“I was just kidding” Jared stutters, “It was a joke.”

“Oh, I know.” I say, with no emotion, “I thought it was funny, I’m laughing can’t you tell?” I close the space between us until I’m in his face, towering over him. I’m not a scary person, but I am 6’3”, so my height tends to intimidate people, plus I really like wearing all black. My physical appearance is really a shell of armor, no one knows how sensitive I really am. At least, people can’t walk all over me if they are scared of me. I stare him down, “Or am I not laughing hard enough for you” I say.

I found, that if you stare at someone long enough, they will leave you alone. Mostly, because they are creeped out. It must be working, because Jared takes a step back, “you’re such a freak,” he says as he turns to make a run for it.

Evan’s still standing there, laughing quietly to himself. “What the fuck are you laughing at” I snap at him.

“N-nothing” he stutters.

I turn to him, “do you think I’m a freak.” He’s still laughing to himself. “You’re the fucking freak,” I yell as shove him.

I pause for a moment, looking down at Evan, who is now on the ground. He looks scared, like really, scared. Does he think I’m going to beat him up? Has he been beaten up before? Who hurt him? I scan his body quickly; this kid is already in a cast. Great, I just pushed an injured kid. Maybe I really am a freak. What the fuck is wrong with me? I collect myself and quickly walk away. I don’t have time to deal with this. It’ll probably be a few hours before this goes around the school.

I make it to my locker, my eyes are still on Evan, who is still on the ground. He’s been on the ground for a while, surly he should’ve stood up by now. Fuck, did I break his legs? Zoe walks up to him and helps him up. He’s fine. I watch as Zoe talks to him for a few minutes. Even my own sister isn’t on my side. Thanks Zoe, I’ll remember that the next time you want me to cover for you when you sneak out. Mom and Dad might think I’m the fucked-up child, but they have no idea what kind of shit you get into.

Each class is a blur as I sit through hours of introductions. Finally, its time for lunch. I don’t have friends to sit with, and I don’t like to give people the satisfaction of watching me sit by myself, so usually I spend the period in the library. I’m safe among the stacks. Books can’t judge you, but they can be an escape from your fucked reality. I can’t find a place to sit in the main library, so I go in the back by the computers. There’s a kid talking on his phone, but I don’t think he’ll mind my presence. I find a seat in the corner and lose myself in a book.

Suddenly, I’m snapped back into reality when the printer goes off. It scared the shit out of me. I look at the paper the printer is spitting out, “Dear Evan Hansen” the top reads. I look over to see Evan hunched over a laptop, talking to himself. I don’t think this kid has any friends either, besides Jared, but Jared’s a dick. Evan isn’t a freak like me, but he’s just someone always in the background. Everyone knows who he is, but no one cares.

I should probably apologize to him about earlier.

I grab the paper and walk over to him, “Hey.” He looks up at me, startled. “So, what did you do to your arm anyways?” I ask him.

He looks down at is arm as if he’s confused as to what I’m talking about. “Oh”, he stammers “I fell out of a tree.”

I look at him, expecting him to say more, he doesn’t. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

I look at his cast, its blank. I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have any friends. “Hey, no one’s signed your cast yet; I will,” I say.

“No, no you don’t have to” Evan whines.

“Do you have a sharpie?” I ask. He stares at me for a moment before he starts digging in his backpack and pulls out a marker, handing it to me. I grab his arm, and he winces. I ignore that and write my name as large as I can along the side of his cast. I figure, no one else is probably going to sign it, so I might as well take up as much real-estate as I can. “There,” I say, “now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Evan stares at his cast.

I remember that I still have his paper, “is this yours?” I ask, holding it out to him, “I found it on the printer, it says ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ that’s you right?”

“Oh, that’s nothing, um, it’s stupid.” He tries to grab the paper from me, “It’s just an assignment”

I pull it out of his reach and look at it, my eyes land on Zoe’s name, “because there’s Zoe” I read aloud, “Did you write some freaky shit about my sister?”

“No, no” He stutters, trying to rip the paper out of my hand, “Why would I do that?”

“You wrote it because you knew I would find it” I snap, “So I would freak out and you can tell everyone that Connor Murphy is a fucking freak.”

“No” Evan cries.

I shove the paper into my pocket, “Fuck you” I say as I storm away.

I walk out of the library, and right out of the front door of the school. There’s still two periods left, but I don’t care, I’ve had enough of today. I keep walking, I don’t even know where I’m going. Eventually, when I’ve put enough distance between me and the school, I pause to pull out my headphones and put on some music. I don’t even care what I’m listening to, it just has to be loud enough to block out my thoughts.

I don’t feel bad about pushing Evan anymore; honestly that kid deserves way worse. He had to know I was in the room with him. No one is that oblivious to the world to not even notice that they’re not alone. Why would he write about my sister? Like does he have a weird fantasy about her that he just had to get down, and print out? Look buddy, most people keep their private thoughts in their head, where they belong.

I eventually reach a park, its oddly empty, but I guess all the children are still at school. I sit on a bench and throw my bag onto the ground, it rattles with impact. I pick it up to investigate the sound; I dig around until I find the source: a prescription bottle. I forgot that I had put my meds in here. I hold the bottle and read the label, it’s good old Prozac. I have refused to take it ever since it was prescribed to me. If you look it up, it has so many warnings and side effects listed, it doesn’t even seem worth it. Like there’s a small chance this will make you feel better, but there’s an even bigger chance that it might kill you, or make you want to kill yourself. The irony! They give you the medicine because you think about killing yourself, but the medicine makes you want to actually kill yourself. Do doctors even care about you, or do they just write you a prescription, so you go away?

I’ve never taken a single dose of this medication, outside of the hospital where they basically force it down your throat, but now seems like a good time to. I feel so numb, what does it even matter, it’s supposed to help me right? I swallow a pill, dry, and then another, and another. I keep swallowing them until I run out of pills. I throw the empty bottle on to the ground. Suddenly, I have a killer headache; I can feel my heart pounding, thoughts are racing in my mind. I lay down on the bench and take a deep breath.

#DEH #DEH fanfic #Dear evan hansen fanfic #deh fandom #dear evan hansen #dear connor murphy #connor murphy #mike faist #ben platt #musicals #fanfiction #fanfic #dear evan hansen fandom #connor murphy deh #zoe murphy #please validate me #trash

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