#Someone get me some adderall

[theonetruegnome]

Oh my god it's been like 4 days, I'm sorrryy, you must all be so mad at me, I'm sorry. But at the same time, I feel I am constantly churning out content and feel somewhat anxious about not pacing myself. I'm sure I have enough steam left to at least tie up any loose ends, so don't worry, the story will finish itself. But I just wanna know; Should I pick back up my old pace of 'one thing every day or so', or do you prefer waiting a few days? Feedback on this would be greatly appreciated. Anyway, enjoy the show!

There was complete silence following Conk's words. Eli was staring, mouth agape in shock, at the small figure. She was short, no doubt about that. She came barely up to her brother's midriff. Yet she seemed much larger than she actually was, due to the large amount of lilac downy feathers covering her whole body. The fluffy young feathers looked soft to the touch and worked to make her appear older and stronger than probably she was. The only parts of her body discernible from the plumage were her hands and the part of her face not hidden by her fringe. She wore a pair of faded booties with very heavily patched soles, as well as a deep purple scarf that was a bit too big for her, having been tied up several times so as not to appear ridiculous. Near her chin, sewn into the fabric, were the initials 'C.O Featherby'. The entire time they had seen her, her face wore the brightest smile any of them had seen, and that's coming from the group that frequently hung out with Callum!

The silence stretched on. Eli and Dandy were both blushing a prominent red. Mana had one hoof pressed against the bridge of her nose. Finally Eli spoke up.

'Conk, I am so sorry, I-I didn't know.'

'Eh, it's fine, these things happen.

'No, really, that was... That was just bad, we... Sorry...' 'Yeah, we shouldn't have assumed... Sorry' The elephant averted his eyes down to his feet while Dandy's cheeks went redder still.

'You guys apologise too much. I really don't mind, and I'm sure she doesn't, do you?' 'Whuh?' 'See?'

Eli gave a weak chuckle at the young hen's confusion, face clearing somewhat of the red incursion. Callum approached the chick and bent down to talk to her,

'So what's your name then little lady?' 'Chamomile!' 'Well, isn't that a pretty name! Do you like your name?' 'Uh-huh! What's your name?' 'My name's Callum.' 'Your name's pretty too!'

As Callum kept up the conversation, the rest approached the trio to get a better look at the fluffy little bean.

'So... You have a sister. That's new then?' 'Huh? Oh, no, she's three years and four months old now. Really *Yawn* Growin' up fast. Ahh.' 'What?! How can I only be finding out about this now? I've been to your house like a dozen times this year!' '*Streeetch!* I guess you're just not observant.' 'Conk, I have five siblings, two of which are younger sisters. I find that very unlikely.' 'And yet you didn't even notice the toddler that suddenly appeared in my house?' 'Says the guy who forgot my birthday two years in a row and told me a story to compensate.' 'You love my stories! And I didn't exactly hear you complaining when I said 'The End'.' 'I was passed out for the next eighteen hours, I didn't get a chance to complain.'

As Conk tries to answer, he's cut off;

'Alright, settle down, neither of you is perfect, we can agree on that. Let's just end it there.' 'Hey, why is she wearing your clothes?' 'Why do you ask?' 'It's just that it looks like you have a poorly-made Mini Me following you around. Nothing else.' 'They're hand-me-downs. She was so happy when she first got 'em she's never taken 'em off.' 'That can't be true!' 'Those are her clothes, P.Js and even her bath clothes. If they need a wash we have to sponge her down and huh- *Yawn* hang her outside to dry as well. She loves them that much.' '...Ok, that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard.'

Chamomile, having finished talking, toddles over, looks up at Conk and raises her arms above her head.

'Up! Up!'

'OhMyGod it got cuter.'

'*Snap!* This is one for the scrapbook!'

'Okay Chicklet, *Oof* uuuup we go!' Conk Groans like a middle-aged man with a bad back as he lifts his sister onto his shoulders. Next to the perfect little chick right next to him, the others notice for the first time how truly awful he looks. Feathers sticking up at odd angles, eyelids twitching, he's shaking like a leaf and his eyes are so bagged it looks like he's been punched in the face.

'Uhhh, Conk?' 'Huh? What's up?' 'What's up is that you look like the grim reaper. How long did you sleep last night?' 'I pretty much didn't, and now I can't tell if I'm dead or not. Which is why I'm going to be taking this little pickle home for a nap, she's too energetic.' 'Nooooo! I dun wanna sleep!' Chamomile tries to stand up and climb away from Conk's reach pulling on many feathers in the process. 'Oww! Ok, Cham, I'm going home to rest anyway and I should take you home for Mom and Dad's sake, they'll be worried sick about you. You're sweet for trying, but you can't just go toddling off looking for me when you miss me.' 'Bu' I Don't wanna sleep. I wanna play.'

'I mean, we could take care of her while you go home and sleep.'

Conk's head whips around to look at Sunny. 'What? No, not possible. Out of the question.' 'Why? We-' She glances over at Dandy, Eli and Mana. 'I am responsible enough to take care of her, so you can tell your parents that. And she won't be bored at all with Callum and Leah fussing over her.' Conk glances over at the two, who are looking at Chamomile like a pair of arsonists would look at a gas station. Okay, they'd all take good care of her, but... 'But, I'm her brother...' He stifled a yawn and rubbed his temples. God his head hurt. 'So? Nobody ever said she had to be looked after by a relative-' 'Gimme the baby!' 'Woah! Tone it down Callum! You're at a fourteen, we'd like you at like a four, max, ok?' 'Ok, sorry, I just got excited...' '...I... I guess you guys could hold onto her for a few minutes...' He gently lowered her to the ground and knelt down to speak to her face to face. 'Cham, you're going to stay with Sunny and the others for a while, ok? I'll be at home taking a nap. If you want to go home, just tell someone and they'll take you home, got it?' 'Otay! I love you!' 'I love you too Cham.' Conk gently kissed her on the forehead before letting go of her. As he trotted away, he looked back. Chamomile had wrapped herself around Leah's legs, the latter appearing to be experiencing cute-induced hysteria.

Conk slowly trudged the well-known path back home, forcing himself not to drop into nearby hedgerows and flower beds to pass out. Finally, he reached the Featherby family household. He stepped inside, mumbled to his parents where his sister was and that they shouldn't worry, and tucked himself into bed. A single thought swam to the forefront of his mind as his breathing slowed and his limbs went light. 'I must be the luckiest cockerel... in the world... To have... such good friends...' Finally he closed his eyes and entered the familiar folds of calm, numbing oblivion.

[tangledinink]

if i gotta deal with it they gotta deal with it

[phagodyke]

taking an extra half an amfexa before I leave work bc [redacted] (popular artist) is playing my city tn and I'll need it to cope with how awful the traffics gonna be when I'm on the bus 💀

[toxycodone]

When’s the next monsterfucker journal dropping.. hehe..

-🐍

when i feel like people are desperate enough for it hehe

[foolish-edworm]

okay why is my brain working overtime rn im literally so exhausted girl (gender neutral). like. i dont have the physical energy for all this mental energy you're putting out right now what the fuck.

[wickedhawtwexler]

my gaydar is so-so but my adhd-dar has not been wrong yet

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

My neighbors might hate me because I love singing while doing everything. Playing phone games? Music. Cleaning? Belting like I'm performing a concert. Walking? You can bet your buttons I have a karaoke track playing.

But I also have the horrible habit of playing one song on loop, and if I don't know then I learn it by picking up that way. But I only know certain lyrics for most of it.

So my neighbors have been hearing bits and pieces of Chronically Cautious all morning. Mostly "So if I'm honest, I think I'm beginning to question how much I want this," which I'm sure is not how they pictured their morning going. And I ended up playing a karaoke track, so that they got to hear the full thing about four times.

At least I'm a decent singer?

[cellophobia]

damn i wish i was one of those bp people who feel well rested on 3 hours of sleep. i am so tired and i want caffeine but that'll make me tweak

[stewystew]

Taking my adderall again‚ made a list‚ we are SO back

[onrainynights]

I'm not even asking for much literally I just need a job like that's it just a job that won't literally kill me would solve like 70% of my problems and well the other 30% I can't do anything about anyway so let me fix what I can fix and give me a job PLEASE

[zipquips]

.

[peachinspiration]

dunmeshi mithruncore (every day I can’t get up to make myself eat at all or get up to use the bathroom or fall asleep or actually do more to help myself unless im told to or someone physically Makes me do it or I finally manage to do so for the first time very very late in the day cuz I forced myself to out of fear)

[sleepii-moth]

i think you need to be able to hire someone to bribe you to do work that you need to do but like not with money. i need someone to come to my house and be like "ill show you never before seen concept art of this game you like if you do your homework right now" i would be so much more productive i think

[barrenwomb]

mutual 1: what if their periods synced [picture of griffith and guts from berserk]

mutual 2: just had the most insane sex of my life. i'm so lonely & no one loves me

mutual 3: they should have fucked tbh [about blood siblings]

mutual 4: yeah i'm aware i have commitment issues but like, no one ever threatened to kill themselves so i wouldn't leave them. i mean is it even worth it. like

mutual 5: i need to be put on adderall sooo bad. i ghosted my psych btw

mutual 6: i'm having a mid life crisis at 23 uuuugh kms fr. attended my first class in months and the professor called me a good girl. woof 🐶

mutual 7: this omega just had an abortion omg...anyways being a fujoshi actually makes u a feminist because men deserve to be reduced to sexual objects as well

mutual 8: i don't believe in god but if god existed i'd be his little whore

mutual 9: men need to be walked around like dogs

mutual 10: i'm fundamentally unlovable

mutual 11: need someone to get a matching succubus womb tattoo with

mutual 12: i'm so horny i deserve to be put down . i wish someone groomed me

mutual 13: does anyone know if sniffing ibuprofen is bad for your health

mutual 14: got my birth control refilled. anyone need some estradiol? hmu

mutual 15: rip amico mio. e mo si mangia

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 12

wc: 2.6k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), reader flirting with Jay for strategic reasons

warnings: sort of kind of dubcon ish only bc reader uses a truth serum on someone but it's contextually ethical and nothing shady happens, made up wonderland plants by yours truly, reader shakes them feminine wiles to get info in a very sfw way

summary: you brew a special blend of tea with the sole purpose of spilling tea with a friend of Mal's.

song recs: what baking can do - waitress OBC, power and control - marina, something bad - wicked obc

a/n: your outfit (it's the same one as ch11), also HI I MISSED YALL. things have been CONSTANTLY happening and good news is I'm finally on the right dose of adderall so I was able to knock out the last part of this chapter in like 20 minutes or smth lol. ily all and if I missed you in the tag list just hoot n holler at me in the tags!!

also candorcorn root is a made up plant that makes people tell the truth, and neutrestnuts are a made up wonderland chestnut that neutralize things

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Your mind is reeling as you go over the elements of the strategy before you again and again. You have the candorcorn root - from the right side of the plant, of course - in a small pouch. You carry it into the school kitchens, gather the rest of your ingredients, and lay them out in a meticulous sort of mise en place. You let out a long puff of air out of your pursed lips, staying in a deep focus as you begin to do something you’ve done a thousand times before.

Brew a pot of tea.

You brew the candorcorn root into a strong concentrate, so strong it makes your eyes water. You set it aside to boil down as you settle on what the body of this beverage will be composed of. Candorcorn root is known for having a strong, bitter taste - sometimes with a sweet aftertaste depending on the truth that’s revealed, but you’re not counting on a particularly sweet truth under the current circumstances. 

To hide some of the earthy bite, you begin making your own blend of different dried herbs, spices, and tea leaves. You start with a base of English dinner - it’s much too late in the evening for English breakfast, even in tea form - then carefully whisk in a little bit of matcha. Once that’s steeping and nicely blended together, you muddle in a few fresh cranberries. You add in a healthy dose of your favorite Port Royal vanilla to lighten the flavor profile and minimize suspicion. 

Feeling mischievous, you add in a few mint leaves to the mix. After it brews together, you waft the steam into your nose. It smells… irresistible. Your mouth waters, and you scribble down the recipe on a napkin to make again later - sans the candorcorn root concentrate, of course. You check your pocket watch, and the time for action is growing nearer and nearer. You bite the crook of your finger in consideration. 

Your mother always used to tell you, the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart, and the way to his heart is through his chest cavity. You suppose it would be a rather good, sensible decision to have a backup plan of sorts. As bizarre as it is to think, you are aware that not everyone drinks tea - especially not as often as you do. You hum and rock on your heels anxiously, eyes darting around the kitchen as the self imposed deadline you’ve set marches coldly closer. 

“Wait,” you murmur, freezing as you get an idea. 

You begin digging through the kitchens as quickly as you can, looking for a few things. If you can get them together, you won’t need to worry about ensuring the specialty tea is consumed in full. You rifle through cupboards and pantry shelves, gathering chocolate spread, a large box of fluffy, cake-like cookies, hot chocolate powder, and a small jar of currents. You look around some more, huffing in irritated frustration at the lack of proper tea biscuits in the kitchen. 

Your disappointment is short lived, however, when you remember the large supply of tea biscuits you always carry around with you for just this sort of emergency. You reach into your teapot bag and pull out your sewing kit, then proceed to swiftly open it up and dump out all the biscuits it contains. Your sewing supplies is kept in a biscuit tin, of course, otherwise you’d get them all mixed up and find yourself hemming your trousers with snickerdoodles. A preposterous idea, of course, everyone knows that biscotti are best for mending trousers. 

The last crumbs fall and you’re brought back to the task at hand. Or rather, at foot, since that’s where the rest of the crumbs land when you stuff the empty tin back into your bag. You let out a shaky but determined breath, and begin to get to work as swiftly as you can manage. You falter once more, realizing that gloves are most likely in order here. You can only find your backup gloves, white and silky with a little pearl in the center of each wrist, but you suppose they’ll have to do.

It’s with a surgical sort of precision that you begin, soaking the biscuits in the candorcorn root concentrate just long enough to get soft around the edges. You lay out each biscuit meticulously, then slather them in a layer of chocolate spread and thick whipped cream. You repeat the process again and again until you’ve a little stack before you. 

Once satisfied with the deceptive desert before you, you top it off with more chocolate spread and a heavy dusting of powdered cocoa mix, sure that the sugary chocolate will balance out the earthy, bitter taste of the candorcorn root. You garnish the top with a few strategically placed dried currants, spelling out eat me along the top. 

You remove your gloves, careful not to get any candorcorn root on your bare hands, then make up another little pastry. The second one, however, is free of any Wonderland serums or juices, and instead is garnished with a few comfits from the container you keep with you - a habit you’d picked up from your mother. 

You next prepare a perfect cup of your brew, then a second containing your secret ingredient. Gloves, of course, are worn during that second step. Your cup is garnished with a piece of fig, the other with a cherry stuck along the rim of the tea cup, bleeding down onto the side. You place everything onto a silver tray, as tenderly as if you were in the middle of diffusing a bomb, and exit the kitchen with it in your only slightly trembling hands. 

You let out a steadying breath as you ascend the stairs in the great hall, making the turn towards the boys dorms. Stopping at an open window, you let out a whistle, signaling to a waiting bluebird that you’re ready, and to send word to your companions for the evening. You walk down the hall as silently as a ghost, only stopping when you hear rowdy yelling coming from behind a particular door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and after a few thrumming pulses, a large cat pads up to you, accompanied by a doormouse. 

“Alright,” you breathe solemnly, “it’s now or ever.” 

The doormouse skitters up to the knob, slipping into the lock and popping it open with a click. It slides down and scurries to safety, and you do the same, moving a few feet away and hiding in an alcove. The cat, brave and noble, slowly enters the room via the now ajar door. It only takes a few moments for the chaos to ensue. 

The silent, still hallway is filled with a riot of barking and yowling as the cat speeds out of the room like a bolt out of blue. She’s followed, of course, by Duke; and Duke is naturally followed by Carlos. They all shout and skitter down the hall, around the stairs, and deeper into the school until they’re out of earshot. You steady yourself, wait a moment, then poke your head into the room, now only occupied by one person. 

Jay.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask coyly from the doorway, blinking up at him. Jay seems surprised to see you, and answers around button mashing his way through the level he’s playing. 

“Uh,” He replies, distracted as he continues to look at the screen. “Yeah.”

He lets out a long string of curses as he takes a nasty hit, hemorrhaging hp when he’s nearly done with the level. There’s still a chance, and he continues to fixate on the screen. 

Perfect, you think.  

Using your foot, you gently nudge the door closed with a click. You reach behind you, flicking the lock closed, and walk forward. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your winning streak,” you say with a cute smile, deliberately stroking his ego. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to tell you what an amazing job you’ve been doing at tourney.”

That gets his attention. Some of it, at least. 

“Oh, word?” He asks, smirking as he glaces away from the screen a little more. You nod, humming sweetly in response. You keep your eyes trained on him while you reach into your bag and slip on your gloves. You pick up his tiramisu and slink over to his bed, breaking off a moist, chocolaty bite with a fork. 

“Your athletic performance was… nothing short of inspiring.” You say slowly, bringing up the fork to his lips. “I bake when inspired.”

He chuckles, getting that cocky, flirtatious look on his face. He opens his mouth to reply with something you could only assume would be cockier than a spaniel, and in that moment, he presents the perfect opportunity for you to ensure he eats the first bite of your special pastry. He startles a little, then hums in approval at the enticing taste. You hand him the plate and offer him the cherry garnished tea, then remove your gloves, careful not to cross contaminate your dishes from his. 

“This is really good,” Jay says, and you smile more slyly than a Cheshire cat. “So,” you begin, dragging your fingertips across his wrist when he accepts the beverage from you, “tell me.”

You lean in like you’re utterly fascinated by him, like you can’t wait a moment more to learn all there is to know about him. 

“How is it that someone as…” you trail off with a breathy sigh. “Rugged… as you is still flying solo, as it were?”

You take a sip from your cup, gaze locked onto his, scrutinizing each quirk of his brow and twitch of his smirk, searching for anything he might reveal beyond his words.

“Well,” he starts, puffing his chest and acting all cool and nonchalant. “You know, playing the field is a full time job.”

“Both of them.” You hum. He looks at you blankly. You shake your head. 

“Nevermind.” You murmur. You can feel yourself growing antsy. You’re not sure how long your dear cat friend will keep Dude and Carlos distracted, and Jay’s had enough candorcorn root syrup to testify in front of a parliament of owls. It’s time to cut through the detritus and root around until you find what you’re really here for. You set down your teacup, leaning forward.

“Dating must be so hard coming from somewhere like the Isle.” 

He starts to answer, but you don’t pay much mind, continuing your train of thought. 

“It’s just… if someone as enticing as you hasn’t been locked down yet, how is it that Mal managed to get a prince like Ben wrapped around her finger so quickly?”

Jay puffs out his chest, laughing at your flattery and taking another bite of the tiramisu. 

“Well, I’m not really at liberty to say,” he starts, leaning casually and flexing his arms as he stretches. “But let’s just say Mal really worked her magic on him, you know?”

He laughs, and your stomach sinks. You have to remind yourself to manually laugh along with him. 

“Really,” you tease, leaning closer. “And what sort of magic would that be?”

“Oh, you know Mal and her freaky mind control thing.” He chuckles, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes to mimic when hers glow. 

“But when you’re out on the tourney field…”

He continues boasting about his sportic success, but your mind is entirely elsewhere. Mind control. Of course. You wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner. Mind control, the same trance Mal’s mother used to lure Aurora up to the spinning wheel. Your heart starts thudding painfully in your chest as your mind races, grappling with the ramifications of what this could mean, the danger Ben and all of Auradon could be in. 

You stand up quickly, reaching into your tea pot bag and pulling out a few neutrestnuts you’d snagged from your last trip to Wonderland. You smack one loudly against Jay’s bedpost, cracking it open in one swift movement. Before he can ask what you’re doing - or even realize you’ve stopped listening to his ramblings about tourney - you’ve pushed the nut inside his mouth. 

“There we go,” you say, watching him to ensure he eats it. “There’s your after dinner nut. They’re all the rage in Wonderland.”

It’s a lie, but not one he needs to worry about. You gather up the remaining tiramisu and tea cups, leaving his dorm quickly. The neutrestnut should take effect and neutralize the honesty that comes from consuming candorcorn root, so Jay will be back to rights quite soon and be none the wiser. 

You wrack your mind as you try to figure out where you can learn more about dark fairy magic. Not much is known about it, and what is known is heavily debated by both magic experts and members of the fairy community. You pause, remembering something, something that sits just on the tip of your tongue. The Museum of Cultural History has Maleficent’s staff on display. Maybe there’s some information there, something too specific for the usual library catalogs. 

You check the time on your pocket watch and see the little hand is pointed to the words Hurry On Now Hurry Girl, The Doors Of Wisdom Are Nearly Closed!

Realizing the time pressure cooker of a pickle in which you find yourself, you take off like a bolt of midnight blue, rushing across campus to get to the museum on time. You’re sure you can persuade the guard to let you stay late, being from the Wonderland Embassy and all. When Alice Liddle of Wonderland is your mother, people tend to go along with any strange or unusual requests you make. 

You reach the museum just in the nicknack of time, catching the guard’s eye just as he’s about to lock up. After a rush and babble of explanations, he concedes, letting you in with a concerned nod. You’re not quite sure he’s following what you’re saying, but you’re in, which is really all you’re troubled with at that moment. 

“Oh- uh, I suppose so, Miss Liddel.” The guard agrees. “Just make sure to check in with me before you leave.”

“Thank you so much-” you glance down at his name tag. “Neil. Truly, thank you.”

He nods, accepting your gratitude. Before you can leave, he chuckles lightly.

“Doing some studying for parents day?” He asks with a smile. 

The archive is in your sight, but you stop in your tracks. 

Parents day. 

In the tizzy you’d been swept into you had totally forgotten parents day. Will you have enough time to prepare? You must. There’s really no way around it. Maybe if you can work quickly enough, you’ll be able to get back to your dorm soon enough to get everything ready by morning. You turn to Neil with a smile you hope comes off as sincere and not panicked. 

“Precisely.”

You enter the archive quickly, rushing through titles in hopes of spotting one that reads To Miss Liddel, Within Contains the Answer to All Your Troubles. Just like you’d expected, and unlike you had hoped, that particular book appears to be nowhere in sight. You don’t lose hope, though. You find a treasure trove of old, dusty, complicated books that each contain a little breadcrumb of what you’re looking for. 

You just hope you can gather enough to form a loaf before daybreak.