Tommyinnit Oneshots

Bad Habits

A/N - This is loosely based on the animatic above made to the song Michael in the Bathroom. Just letting you know, I changed it up a lot and the video doesn't have the themes or topics that you'll find in this chapter. The animatic is really good and I would recommend checking it out if you haven't seen it yet. 

TW: Self-harm, underage drinking, swearing

It was pathetic, really. It would be so easy for him to open the doorknob, walk down the stairs and slap a smile on his face. Hell, the party was even at his house. So what was keeping him? Was it the generic party remixes of pop songs from five years ago? Was it the stench of alcohol and sweat that seeped in from under the door? Was it because he knew he would see Tubbo?

Maybe it was a combination of all those reasons, but the biggest among them was the last one. From wherever he was in the house, he knew he would eventually catch his best friend's eye and he didn't think he could handle that. He could handle the shitty music, shitty smell, and shitty people, but he couldn't handle seeing his friend who would no doubt be wasted in an attempt to avoid their problems.

So here he was, sitting on the cold tile with his back pressed uncomfortably into the handle of the sink cabinet. All because he was too much of a coward to go and have a conversation with his friend and fix the issues that had been brought up during their fight. They could be outside right now, away from the party and working everything out, but Tommy was in the bathroom while Tubbo was downstairs, drowning his problems with dubious alcoholic beverages and screaming song lyrics.

If Tommy had been thinking clearly, he would have understood that it was both of their faults and that a discussion was necessary. But Tommy wasn't thinking clearly because his mind was spinning and his hands were shaking and he knew it was all his fault. Everything was his fault. Tubbo didn't want to be friends with him, he was downstairs having fun with their other friends who weren't mean and depressed and anxious and broken. 

So Tommy did the only thing he knew how to at this point. Through the haze of panic, he was able to lean forward, open the cupboard behind him and locate the razor without hesitation. And when the blade gently cut his skin, he felt good. He felt happy. He finally got the punishment a despicable human like himself deserved, and at the same time, he got relief from the twisted thoughts in his mind. It was a vicious cycle that he went through, cutting himself because he hated himself and hating himself because he cut himself. And there was no escape, just more cutting and blood and pain and punishment and relief and then doing it all over again.

He had done this enough times to know how many cuts to do and how deep to make them. He didn't want to kill himself, just make a few gashes on his wrist. From the beginning, he had at least been trying to make them shallow enough not the scar, but the lines on his wrist hadn't faded after weeks and he had stopped worrying about that long ago. 

After fifteen cuts, he decided that was enough. He would rest for now and bask in the pain radiating from his arm, warm and welcoming. He felt tired and got worried that he had cut too deep, but after making sure he wasn't feeling dizzy or lightheaded from blood loss, he let his head rest against the wood behind him and closed his eyes.

Right as he felt himself fading into the blissful escape of sleep, the bathroom door flew open and slammed against the wall. Tommy opened his eyes and there, in all his stinky, drunken glory, was Tubbo, swaying on his feet before him.

"Oh no Tommy, don't be mean to yourself! I don't like it when you're mean to yourself," He pouted. Tommy chuckled and assumed the shorter had successfully forgotten about the argument earlier that day, and opened his arms for the boy who he knew would want to cuddle. Tubbo always got cuddly when he was drunk.

Tubbo immediately collapsed into Tommy's lap after seeing the invitation and curled his arms comfortably around the taller's chest. 

"Hmmm." 

"You okay, bubs?"

"I'm drunk."

"I gathered that. I'm thinking that you should maybe not do that as much."

"You're not okay though, Tommy," The brunet said, ignoring the previous statement and poking Tommy's chest. "I haven't been okay for a long time, Tubs," He sighed in response.

"I know," He sniffled quietly. "Oh, Tubbo, don't cry," The blond murmured comfortingly, but that only brought heavier sniffles and hot tears from the older boy. Tubbo was also very emotional when he was drunk.

"Something happened between us. Something happened and I feel bad. Whatever happened, I'm sorry and I don't want you to blame yourself. You always blame yourself and it makes me sad," He slurred. The drunken confession brought tears to Tommy's eyes and he wrapped his arms tighter around the intoxicated boy in his lap. Soon, the two were quietly sobbing on the bathroom floor, both of them broken almost beyond repair, damaging their bodies to avoid their problems. Tubbo was barely seventeen and had been following in his father's footsteps and drowning his sorrows in alcohol for months, and Tommy was still sixteen and had been cutting his wrists for well over a year now. Both of them were too broken to fix their friend, but they could be there for each other in times like this, still able to comfort one another at their lowest.

The two fell asleep on the bathroom floor, still hugging each other tightly. They knew that people would find them in the morning and they would see the red lines on Tommy's wrist and smell the alcohol surrounding Tubbo. They would be concerned and would try to help the boys end their unhealthy habits, but that was a struggle for the morning. For now, they would sleep.

(A/N, skip if you're not interested)

I didn't really know how to end this oneshot, which is why they just kind of pass out on the bathroom floor, but I can do that shit because I'm God in this book. 

Someone asked for a oneshot where Tommy gets radiation poisoning and I should have that out soon! That's it, hope you enjoyed.

Disclaimer: I am not God. This is a joke and it is humor in Jellybean's child book.