#[out of sarcasm and adderall]

[st4rgiirll]

first kiss

s1!stiles stilinski x gf!reader

creds: roseraris for dividers!

you were perched on stiles’ bed, watching him pace back and forth across his room, his hand moving animatedly as he talked about the latest werewolf drama involving scott.

the police radio scanner on his desk crackled with static, and his wall was covered in red string and newspaper clippings - his latest attempt to piece together all the supernatural happenings in beacon hills.

“and then scott practically wolfed out in the middle of practice!” stiles exclaimed, running a hand through his short hair.

“like dude, we talked about this! control! but no, apparently catching greenberg’s crossbody was worth risking exposure to the entire lacrosse team!”

you couldnt help but smile at his sarcasm. this was classic stiles - all nervous energy and rapid-fire words, trying to keep his best friend alove while maintaining some semblance of normalcy in their increasingly bizarre lives.

“stiles,” you said, trying to interrupt his rambling to no avail. “stiles!”

he stopped mid-gesture, turning to look at you with those warm brown eyes that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “yeah?”

“come sit down before you wear a hole in your floor.” he glanced down at the path he’d been treading, then shuffled over to sit beside you, his knee bouncing with restless energy.

“sorry, i just… there’s so much happening, y’know? between scott’s furry little problem and trying to figure out who the alpha is, and my dad’s cases, and-“

“and you’re carrying all the weight of it.” you finished softly, placing your hand over his fidgeting ones.

stiles fell quiet, a rare occurrence that made you look at him more closely. his eyes were fixed on where your hands touched, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“how do you do that?” he asked suddenly.

“do what?”

“just… know exactly what to say? how to calm me down?” he turned his hend over to lace his fingers with yours.

“you’re like my personal adderall, except, y’know, prettier and less medical.” you laughed, feeling your cheeks warm.

“did you just compare me to you ADHD medication?”

“i did, didnt i?” stiles groaned, his free hand coming up to cover his face.

“that was supposed to be romantic. in my head, it was definitely more romantic. can we pretend i said something smooth instead? like, i dunno, ‘you’re the moon to my werewolf’ — wait no, that’s worse, that’s definitely worse—“

you cut off his rambling the only way you could think of – by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. for a moment, stiles froze, and you could practically hear his brain short-circuiting.

then his hand came up to cup your cheek, and he was kissing you back with all the pent-up energy he usually put into solving supernatural mysteries.

when you pulled away, stiles blinked at you several times, his mouth opening and closing without sound – another rare occurrence.

"did you just—" he started.

"kiss you? Yeah."

"and I—"

"kissed me back? also yeah." a grin slowly spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"that was... wow. that was awesome. can we do that again? we should definitely do that again. like, right now. or whenever you want. im free for the next, like, forever—"

this time when you kissed him, you were both smiling too much for it to be perfect, but somehow that made it even better.

the police scanner crackled again in the background, and somewhere in beacon hills, scott was probably getting into more werewolf-related trouble, but for now, none of that mattered.

stiles pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "just so we're clear," he whispered, "this means you like me, right? because i really like you, and it would be super awkward if—"

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"we’ve been dating for 6 months."

"oh yeah… cool," he breathed, then immediately cringed.

"i mean, not cool like 'whatever' cool, but cool like 'this is the best thing ever' cool, and im going to stop talking now because im pretty sure im ruining the moment, and—"

you silenced him with another quick kiss, and felt him smile against your lips.

"you know," he said when you separated, "i think i just found my new favorite way to be shut up."

the police scanner suddenly burst to life with his dad's voice reporting a disturbance downtown, and stiles' eyes lit up with that familiar mix of curiosity and excitement.

"want to go investigate a potentially supernatural crime scene with me?" he asked, already reaching for his keys.

you laughed, standing up and pulling him with you. "only you would think that's a romantic second kiss location."

"hey, i contain multitudes," he protested, but his grin was infectious as he led you toward his jeep.

and just like that, life in beacon hills continued – only now with the added bonus of being able to kiss your adorably sarcastic boyfriend whenever he started rambling about werewolves.

[son-of-drogo]

So I saw someone else was taking notes while watching the Granada series and I decided to do the same:

Scandal in Bohemia

-No dude, do you know how expensive commissioned art is?

-Shoot his ass Irene 💕💕💕

-If she weren't married...

-Watson💕💕💕

-Mrs. Hudson 💕💕💕

-Nooo! Let Watson eat!

- Lol u want some cocaine babe? -Sherlock Holmes

-Rip Sherlock Holmes, you woulda loved Adderall

-Goddammit Jeremy, why are you so pretty?

-Gotta pretty myself up for Wat the king

-Holmes every time Watson deduces: 🥰

-"I am lost without my Boswell" 🥰

-you know they made fun of the king's outfit after he left

-Oh yeah, a mask over your eyes is totally gonna hide your identity. (Sarcasm)

-you literally have royal portraits, dumbass.

-the moral of the story is: if you're gonna do sketchy shit, don't photograph it.

-And respect women.

-Holmes@the king: You are so fucking stupid.

-HORSIE

-God, quit manspreading on my sofa -Holmes probably

-Buddy that sounds life a you problem.

-Irene in a tux could step on me

-God that outfit is so fucking stupid

-Hell yeah fancy restaurant date night!

-Lol Sherlock looks like a bunch of kids are gonna steal his lucky charms.

-Leave Britney Irene alone!

-Watson: But you're gay!

-Aww, they love each other!

-I just love how goddamn weird Sherlock is.

-"Rrrrrequire"

-The cause is NOT excellent.

-Irene: Okay what the fuck?

-Jeremy Brett dramatically yelling "fire!"

-oof she figured it out.

-Oh my God Holmes you dumbass

-Oh my God the outfit is when worse with the hat

-Housekeeper is trying not to smile

-You've been bamboozled!

-Oh he feels bad for tricking her

-her dress is so prettyyyy

-Yass bitch, get your happily ever after!

-She's a queen, just not your queen, bitch.

-imho she served way too much cunt to be with the king

-Holmes is just so fucking delighted that a woman outsmarted him.

The Dancing Men

-such a good husband💕💕💕

-He just wants to helpppp!

-Poor Elsie is having an anxiety attack

-Look at the gays, in their flat.

-Holmes trying to impress his boyfr-I mean flatmate (level easy)

-🎶"bum bum bum bum"🎶

-PAH!

-I love them so much

-Watson being a little shit 💕💕💕

-Just these gay cunts

-Jeremy had nice hands

-Hilton, we love you, but we don't need your whole life story.

-"She tired of America" me too bitch, me too.

-Ahh Elsie is so pretty!

-*Sobbing" Hilton and Elsie are so cute!

-This episode owes me restitution.

-I would die for this woman.

-He just loves her so much

-One of the few good dudes in the series.

-Everybody's so pretty, I'm too bisexual for this!

-Watson just hesitantly reaching for Holmes' monogram on cyphers.

-Fantastic mustache 10/10

-communication is important

-Babe, tell him your stalker is after your, he'll understand.

-Bush full of lads

-Oh he saw Watson sneaking the monogram back.

-God Watson tries so hard to get Holmes to eat.

-Say no to drugs! And yes to solving weird crimes.

-Poor woman just wanted to go no contact

-He jump the couch

-Holmes in straight up fucking shock

-Watson give your man a hug

-Kryten💕💕💕

-IMHO every house should have a murder room

-Watson suggesting to Holmes to ask Mrs. King to sit down.

-Hilton just wanted to be a good husband and he got killed for it.

-Inspector Kryten fangirling over Sherlock Holmes

-"Eldrrrrridges"

-Oh Holmes is checking Watson out

-That stupid fucking hat

-It's giving Arby's

-that's a whole lotta mustache

-She doesn't love you, Arby's man.

-Ugh, possessive men make me gag

-Take the hint Arby's!

-Arby's: Can I see her?

Watson: Hell no you fucking can't!

[spylarman]

Tagged by @itsbowbi

Are you named after anyone?

Nah pretty generic white boy name. Though my middle name is passed down on my dad's side! It's not a common one.

When was the last time you cried?

Uhhh like last week actually lol got a lot on my mind and no one to bother talking about it with

Do you have kids?

Nope and I don't ever ever plan on it either. Rather get a vasectomy and probably will one day

What sports do you play?

None unless you call an adderall reign energy and cigarette at one time as a high adrenaline sport. In high school I did track and field tho! I was the best in my grade at shotput discus and javelin lol throwing MASTER

Do you use sarcasm?

Yes but honestly I don't really notice until after the fact. It just pours out of my mouth randomly and I'm like "whoops my real thoughts came out"

What's the first thing you notice about someone?

Honestly I usually look at clothes a lot. I feel like what someone wears really ends up matching with their personality and interests so it's fun to pay attention to! Otherwise I really like voices if it's someone I'm going to talk to and not just like noticing from a distance

Eye color?

Darker brown eyes. With the eyebags it looks like all the light has left my soul ✌️

Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies mostly. There's a time and a place for both but I do like a good psychological thriller like Perfect Blue and stuff

Any talents?

Mmmm not that I can really think of honestly. I'm relatively unremarkable lol

Where were you born?

New Hampshire. Gorgeous gorgeous state. Boring as fuck tho there's nothing to do there unless you like to ski and hike lol

Hobbies?

As I'm sure most people say video games for sure, mostly love Fromsoft games dark 1 best dark 2 worst fight me. Otherwise on the rare occasion I can I like to build computers! Not much of a hobby tho. I do origami too. Used to as a kid and decided to pick it up again since it's relaxing and cuts down some screen time lol also MTG, D&D, nerd to the core

Any pets?

My beautiful boy Jack. The love of my life and the only thing that's keeping me grounded nowadays

Height?

5'7" or 5'8" I honestly do not remember the last time I got my height checked was at like 16

Favorite school subject?

Honestly English class was fun. Mostly because I loved talking about the stories and why characters may have done things and stuff. I used to want to be a psychologist so getting into the mental details of things is fun

Dream job?

I do not dream of labor. But if I had to pick something it would be a musician. Music is my favorite form of expression and I wish I had the talent to be able to beautifully get out the thoughts in my head

I like oversharing about random things and I have zero idea who else I follow does. Maybeeeee @tailless-whale and @geeses like to overshare as well??? I think talking about myself to the void is fun lol

[astramthetaprime]

The Balance of a Hair

On August 12th, I woke up at 5 AM and lay there a few moments before I smelled the most horrible nauseating smell.

A moment later my mind shorted out and for at least a couple minutes I lay there not able to fit thoughts together, not even enough to know what was going on around me -- not my dog beside me, the ceiling over my head, the blanket across my chest.

It passed after a couple minutes.

And I got up to start my day an hour earlier than usual since there was no way I could get back to sleep.

This has been happening since about 2021 or 2022. It's inconvenient since it usually happens several times over the course of a day, but happens in no discernible pattern over the course of months. It doesn't seem to cause any permanent damage, has no cause I've been able to determine. Just the horrible vomit-inducing smell and dissociative episode, lasts a couple minutes, might make me almost throw up, might make me kind of shaky after two or three times in a day. But then it's gone and I go on with my life.

I hadn't been paying much attention, because it did no lasting harm.

But now, I'm working outside of the house and having to drive to work five days a week. And on the 12th, it happened while I was driving on one of the busiest roads in my city, surrounded by early morning rush hour traffic.

I'm all right. I didn't hit anyone. But the very real possibility that I could have easily killed myself or someone else crossed a line and once I got to work I called my doctor to make an appointment.

They managed to schedule me fairly quickly and I went in this past week. I'd written down all I could piece together about the incidents and gave it to my NP.

She completely ignored the parts where I dissociated in the middle of rush hour traffic, claimed it was just acid reflux, and prescribed Pepcid for it.

Then, out of left field, she wrote a referral for an ADHD assessment and a prescription for Adderall, when I had said nothing about that and hadn't asked for it.

She just ... threw an addictive stimulant at me. Because, y'know, nothing bad ever comes of easy access to addictive psychoactive stimulant drugs. ( /sarcasm )

Throughout my life, I've avoided drugs at all costs whenever I could. Some drugs are beneficial, I'm on three without which I would be dead. But for several years in my 20s I was on Paxil, an SSRI anti-depressant. They tell you it's non-addictive. The hell it isn't. You build up a tolerance for it and have to keep upping the dosage to get the same effect. And God help you if you're forced to give it up cold turkey. Ask me how I know.

(Pro tip, if you have to give up Paxil cold turkey, it makes your head spin like a top, to the point of vomiting. Keep a supply of motion sickness meds at hand -- Dramamine -- and keep on it until you're clean of the Paxil. You're welcome.)

Beyond this, it is strongly implied now that I'm considered to have both ADHD and Autism. I didn't come to the ADHD conclusion myself. I'm still really coming to terms with being Autistic. But now, ADHD and substances I am not sanguine about allowing into my body. It's a matter of agency, of bodily autonomy. I didn't consent to this, really. I was told out of the blue that I would be assessed for ADHD when I hadn't asked for that and hadn't been prepared for it.

Another pit opened beneath me, and I don't know who I am anymore.

I can't see by this new light.

The edit for my manuscript came back on Monday, it's Friday, I haven't even been able to open the file to start on it. $1600 for that edit, I haven't even been able to open the file.

But by God two nights ago I did a solid two hours on Ember Star because I took an Adderall at noon and nine hours later I was still going strong.

Am I being played by my NP because she has a quota to fill? She's short on her Adderall scripts this month and there's crazy old Aunty Proton, Autistic as fuck, we'll just slap down that referral and a script and hey we're up by one. Latest statistics say 70% of Autistics also qualify as ADHD, she probably is, we'll just get the cart before the horse and throw drugs at a problem that hasn't even been diagnosed yet.

No one seems to see me here, losing all my concept of who I am.

There's probably a drug for that too.

[rainbowrenjun]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

tagged by @boochans (ty!!!<3 even tho it took me like a week lol)

1. are you named after anyone? nope! unless you count the fact that my mom loves british tv so she gave me and brother very british names unintentionally lol 2. when was the last time you cried? yesterday i teared up but i can't for the life of me remember why. if we’re talking a proper cry tho i don’t remember but it couldn’t have been long ago bc i’m a big cry baby like crying doesn’t register as a big deal to me atp like that’s just my life baby 3. do you have kids? noooo omg i’m still trying to figure out how to take care of myself😭 4. do you use sarcasm a lot? idk what counts as a lot but i have been known to be sarcastic 5. what sports do you play/have you played? never been a huge sports person but as a kid i did soccer, golf, and a bit of karate 6. what’s the first thing you notice about people? i’m not sure maybe their outfit? or maybe hair color/style bc that's the easiest way to tell people apart imo 7. what’s your eye colour? light blue 8. scary movies or happy endings? not a big movie person but i’m always down for a good comedy so i guess happy endings 9. any special talents? not that i'm aware lol (unless having such bad adhd that adderall makes me sleepy is a special talent🤔) 10. where were you born? this feels like a security question so i’m gonna keep it vague and say the west (of us america) but i only lived in that town as a baby im not a true West Coaster™️ 11. what are your hobbies? giffing, trading/collecting kpop stuff, video games (esp rpgs!! give me recs if ur into rpgs 👀), writing (fanfic but also original stuff that i can never seem to finish), used to be really into makeup but i fell out of it during the pandemic, reading (i tend to not read for 6 months and then read 300k words in one sitting. all or nothing🫡 also if u read danmei or wlw stuff give me recs:3) 12. do you have pets? yes i have a 6 year old cat (thalia) & a 2 year old dog (mochi)! 13. how tall are you? roughly 5’5 14. favourite subject in school? social studies! 15. dream job? author has always been my childhood dream that's carried into adulthood if i can ever finish a damn novel, but rn i'm trying to attempt college (again) to go into a history related field!

tagging (if u want to ofc :3): @minchanz @mistarover @taeminnomuyeppeo @twiceland @jsuh

+ bonus visuals references of thalia & mochi 🥰

[eclipsedcrystalstar]

You also seemed pretty confident with the Lunar Dumb Song one can you explain more on that too

YES ABSOLUTELY. I won’t be going line by line but I will definitely pick out some

“You said with certainty I may be the dumbest person that you've ever seen” Despite actually being pretty smart, he’s had his intelligence diminished before for his personality

“You've mentioned Adderall Slip this guy a sedative, he's bouncin' off the wall” I believe Lunar was mentioned at some point having ADHD (I see him as autistic but he can have both as a treat), adderall is a common medication for ADHD. The slip this guy a sedative line connecting to his hyperactivity.

“So if that's how you feel” Essentially ‘well then if that’s how you think of me’ leading into the next lines. Fits a bit with Lunar’s sarcasm

“When we go down When kingdom come Don't look at me, don't look at me I'm just too dumb I'd love to stay (love to stay) But like you said (like you said) Don't look at me  'Cause I got nothin' in my head (nothin' in my head)”

Basically ‘don’t ask me for help, after all I’m ’too dumb’ remember?’ Fits a bit with both his sarcasm and early stuff not being taken seriously by others

Finally got this done it’s been in my drafts for too long

[deading]

i was freaking out like a month or so ago about seeing a psychiatrist but i was diagnosed with adhd & cptsd (shocking!!!! this was in conjunction with my therapist. this is sarcasm but i am actually shocked. i expected to be called crazy.) and life has become so much easier since i started adderall. i feel like a normal person. its a wonder i’ve survived so long

[traumagenic-positivity]

A bit of a vent but not really. Mostly just complaining about being polyfragmented

CW mental hospital mention

I HATE that a system with a DSMP fictive host does something shitty to us and then bam one billion dsmp fictives

I’ve watched maybe 30 minutes total of the dsmp. There shouldn’t be this many. One of them is secondary host and that shouldn’t be allowed either

We’ve also split like 70 times in the last two weeks because I was sent to grippy sock superhell for getting too silly in front of other people. They treat you like a fucking dog there and they tried to accuse me of doing crystal meth because of my adderall. I value the intent of first responders but they’re all going to hell for lying to mentally unstable people I fear.

New subsystem of 70+. Awesome (sarcasm)

I’ll never be able to do enough one block vertical jumps for the lore to understand what the fuck is going on in this system civilization 😔

im so sorry nonnie :< I really really hope you guys can get everything figured out and get better <3

[bakafox]

My therapist sent me the email address for reporting drug shortages to the FDA and I finally just wrote what I tried to make a thorough, serious, notice of how I've not been able to get my Adderall, though I fear some of my bitter sarcasm may have leaked in a bit.

In May I got to experience a minor, but very noticeable change in my life while on a low dose of Adderall, and since that first bottle ran out I've just been sitting grinding my gears as usual, but with the memories of what it had been like on the Adderall for that single month.

Fortunately I guess, my memory is shitty so if I go too much longer without getting to try the slightly higher dose my psychiatrist prescribed for me, I'll probably forget most of what I got done while on the stuff beyond a very vague and general vibe of I think I functioned a little better.

[stardustinmyhands]

4/11/24

I just filed for disability.

Now starts the drawn out process. It took me 3 hours total to fill out that application, because of all my doctors and medicine. I may look for a lawyer this time too.

I’m at my IVIG infusion right. It makes me so thankful for my port each time I’m here. I’m at the Phoenix infusion center cause I’m not set up at the Mesa one yet. My doctor sent it to Banner Desert last week, so I just have to wait for insurance to approve it. So I should be able to get my infusion at the Mesa hospital next time.

My pain is mild today, but they also gave a 1000 mg of Tylenol and Benadryl with my IVIG. I’m also on zofran and adderall. So everything is balanced out.

My girly bits are not as sore as they were yesterday. Stupid badder infection. I’m on antibiotics that can cause stomach upset, which is awesome •sarcasm•. Like I don’t have enough tummy issues already.

[foolsdiamond]

I'm like, 10 years into my ADHD diagnosis. At this point in my life, I would say I am very happy, my life is rewarding, and I enjoy waking up. I have a beautiful wife who I mesh with perfectly. I have time for my hobbies, even though sometimes I cannot work on them because I cannot control what my brain chooses to focus on. I have a home slowly filling up with paintings and artwork I've made and hung up on the walls, which still brings me joy to see how good I've done (even if in the moment, my art typically disappoints me). I have a stable full time job that is helping pay my bills. We have a new dog in the family, and are looking at buying a house (to be fair, I've been saying that for a month now, and haven't actually taken the first steps). I would say my life used to be miserable with ADHD, but not anymore.

I would have been diagnosed sooner if I wasn't such a high performer in school, even if I personally was struggling to complete homework assignments in a home setting, it could be explained as my home life being miserable (one of the two primary sources for my clinical depression) and it was never enough to bring my grades below a B, so I was off the radar.

I got my ADHD diagnosis off of two factors: one, my inability to control what gets my attention; and two, my extreme emotional dysregulation. For the first, it was largely not an issue for me; I would draw during class, I would draw during my free time at home, I would browse deviantART and RP with my friends online. It wasn't an issue for me to develop a hyper fixation, because my love of Homestuck only meant I was drawing more, and also straight up ignoring entire classes to read the webcomic instead (sarcasm, but my grades still didn't drop). But the partner I had at the time was getting increasingly frustrated with me not giving him my full attention, and honestly in hindsight, I didn't want to give him my full attention because I was secretly afraid of him.

For two, I was diagnosed with many potential issues, from a wide set of psychiatrists. Depression/Anxiety, it could be Borderline Personality Disorder, I have Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, etc etc. This is definitely affected by me being AFAB, and the codependent, toxic relationship I was in at the time. I never would have sought a diagnosis had I not been desperate for a medical reason to explain why I am the way I am, and I'm not just a neglectful partner.

What benefits have I seen from getting diagnosed? Well, I guess I could have used my medical ADHD diagnosis to get disability accommodations at work (in the US, the ADA means you're not required to demonstrate why you need accommodations, just that they be provided) but I was scared admitting "I have a legitimate disability that prevents me from regulating my circadian rhythm and I legitimately cannot detect my alarm clock, even when it's a tornado siren or when it's a vibrating alarm clock strapped to my forehead" would give my job justification to fire me instead of cut me some slack.

Medication? I tried a few, I tried Strattera and a generic for Adderall. Unfortunately, neither medication actually solve the symptoms I have issues with. They both leave me feeling high strung, hyper alert, and spiked anxiety. They didn't help me maintain my focus on the road while driving, for example. (Yes, I was practically falling asleep behind the wheel spacing out. I still do sometimes, just not as extremely as before)

Coping mechanisms? I mean, yeah, to an extent. The best thing for ADHD is lifestyle changes into having a consistent routine. Holy shit, I just remembered the 3rd major symptom I had that I used to get tested for ADHD. My memory is absolute garbage. I actually walked into a clinic to get tested and said "I have horrible memory, Im struggling to remember what other ADHD symptoms I think I've shown" and they sent me away; didn't even ask me generic ADHD questions. Just, bad memory? Not my problem lol.

Anyway, I couldn't remember to take my medication for my depression and anxiety, so I was constantly on and off of it. It meant I couldn't take a daily birth control pill either, because I couldn't keep track of what day I did. I tried pill counters. I tried calendar reminders. I tried sticky notes. I tried it all. So I tried to go on ADHD meds, as if remembering to take one medicine would fix my brain to remember to take the other lol

I could have reorganized that in, but I feel like it's important to demonstrate the flow of consciousness I have, as a good example of what having ADHD is like.

Anyway, back to coping mechanisms.

Having a consistent job helps; my jobs schedule isn't that consistent, so I developed a habit of checking my schedule the night before and setting my alarms based on it. Having a wife helps a lot; she's extremely good at routine and scheduling, and since I lack an internal drive to perform chores (boring things like Having A Clean Living Space aren't rewarding enough on their own, not quite like Video Game) but now I have an external motivation I've internalized: cleaning it for her. I don't draw as much as I used to, but I do a much wider variety of sets and crafts for fun. I cook and bake more now, for fun. I don't have a huge attention span for reading like when I was younger, so I don't do a whole lot of that. I have a story I'm "writing" (I have 80% of a rough draft down and 20% in my head, plus the skeleton to a sequel, but I haven't worked on it in actually several months). I'm never late to work anymore, I can wake up to my alarms when I couldn't before (it's probably related less to ADHD and more to my ex not allowing me to get more than 5 hours of sleep a night). Sometimes I still get overwhelmed if there's too much information happening at me at once, but I'm also autistic.

The question here isn't whether I think you have ADHD. I don't really care to diagnose you, nor do I think you have the typical signs (usually sharing completely random ideas that only your brain has drawn connections to, because it rapid-fired through 10 different references but only said point a and point j out loud). The question here is whether being diagnosed with ADHD would actually benefit you. I personally needed answers to the question "what is fucking wrong with me?" and sought to know. But if you're happy and satisfied with how you feel and how you're living your life, there's no reason to worry if you're neurodivergent and what flavor it is.

But people are going to continue to ask if you have it, because you're funny and relatable on the internet, and they assume they see themselves reflected in you.

Derin experiencing and writing the most ADHD-coded experiences taken straight out of the DSM: Not me tho I'm built different

I've been thinking about this and I think the reason that I'm so sure that my quirks aren't symptoms of anything is that all you guys who do have ADHD post about having utterly miserable unrewarding lives full of chaos and instability. My life is relatively chill, I find my writing and crochet to be very rewarding long-term (something which I'm constantly seeing ADHD posts about calling impossible for people with ADHD), I had no particular trouble with my Bachelor's degree or my Grad Dip and dropped out of my PhD only due to a stress-related heart condition (everyne with ADHD here seems to talk about how hard it is to complete higher education with ADHD). People with ADHD here talks about how ADHD makes long term commitments practically impossible; I've been doing my web serials for... what, 5 or 6 years, I think?... and while it's not fun every minute of every day (no job is), it's been perfectly achievable and I'm not likely to stop any time soon. People with ADHD here post about how they're always restless or bored or miserable; I tend to be pretty relaxed and generally happy. They post about how long term projects are horrible and they can't get pride or a sense of achievement from them, only a sense of relief that it's over; I do get a sense of relief when something's over, but I'm looking at the huge patterned blanket I crocheted a couple of years ago right now and feeling pride in it. They post about having highly addictive personalities; the only things I'm addicted to are caffeine and this fucking webbed site. I get bored with predatory 'addictive' games immediately. I was academically very successful in school, was able to focus on things like reading for long periods of time (I'm less good at that now but I think that's the effect of the internet on my brain, not anything intrinsic), and while I do tend to be a very disorganised person I've never been disorganised enough that it's caused me serious unresolvable issues.

My life experiences just do not match up with the experiences espoused by people with ADHD. Life is neither incredibly hard nor miserable for me. I just happen to also be absent-minded.

[heavysoldat]

it’s really you (on my mind)

best friend’s brother!bucky barnes x fem!reader

(gif by me)

inseparable since middle school, it was no surprise that you ended up falling for your long-time best friend. what was surprising, was who you actually ended up with at the end of the day.

warnings: SMUT (unprotected vaginal sex, blowjobs, face fucking, finger fucking, dirty talk, name-calling, slightly public sex, consent checks, breeding), angst, insecurities, language, very small age gap, hurt/comfort, a little cheesiness. 

(this is highly inspired by something i watched a while ago, that i cannot remember for the life of me)

A two-week long vacation between two families can go one of two ways: completely fine and dandy, or a total fucking disaster mid-way through.

This one time, it’s not so perfectly black and white.

Your feet are covered in wet sand, sliding through your flip-flops and even found home in the bottoms of your bikini. It doesn’t help, how they drag along the hot pavement on your way back to the shared beach house. 

The crash of the screen door hitting the wall is the last thing on your mind, shaking body making it harder to walk as you storm through the living room, hell-bent on landing upstairs with a crash land onto your temporary mattress. You’re practically dizzy with embarrassment, shame, anxiety and fear— feeling like you just swallowed an entire bottle of Adderall mixed with coffee.

Your own anxiety blinds you from your surroundings— so the sudden, jarring feeling of a hand stopping you via a grip on your wrist is enough to have you letting out a shriek.

“Hey! Hey!” Bucky calls, a lighthearted chuckle gracing his voice, “What’s the hurry?”

You’re breathing shallow and fast, heartbeat practically pounding in your chest; you’re crumbling in on yourself. You try to cover it up, try to calm yourself down, but the shakiness in your breathing and palms is enough to blow your cover. 

“Noth-nothing,” You stutter, barely meeting his gaze. “I’m just- tired, and wet, I just wanna take a shower.”

He goes quiet, smile leaving his features. His eyes are scanning you, scanning you with a softness you rarely see from him. Always the cooler, more aloof, older guy— fresh out of college, hurdling closer towards his future than you’ve ever been. It’s rare; rare that he speaks like this, rare that his voice isn’t threaded with incessant teasing and sarcasm.

With one look down to your shaking hands, fiddling with each other nervously, he steps closer.

“Hey,” His voice is soft, “What’s goin’ on? You’re shaking.”

“Nothing.” You insist— but the tears threatening to spill from your eyes tell a different story.

Bucky grabs your trembling hands, holding them together, “Take a deep breath. Calm down.”

After staring down at his feet, lulling it over in your head, you let out a shaky, trembling breath. You continue, deep, in-and-out, until it’s smooth. Until it’s not withering in your lungs. Until it’s not an uphill battle.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Bucky asks, slowly letting go of your hands, letting them fall to your sides.

You watch as he leans back against the marble countertop, on the side next to the bar stools. You rub your right arm with your left hand, still trembling, but at least breathing.

“It’s- uhm,” You’re struggling to get past the wall of anxiety that’s flooding you. “I asked- I asked him out.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, staring at you with the prompt to elaborate.

“Beckett.”

His eyebrows raise in knowing. “Finally?”

“What?”

He laughs humorlessly, picking at the loose thread on his Baja hoodie. “I mean, I can’t say I didn’t see it coming? I honestly expected you to do it sooner.”

Your eyes grow sad, scared and wary.

“It wasn’t obvious, or anything,” Bucky retracts, hoping to calm you down, “At least, like, not to him. No offense to him, but... my little brothers fucking oblivious. Honestly.”

You hum in response, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth.

“I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

You shake your head.

“That’s... really surprising.” His voice raises in pitch, eyebrows going back up. “I mean, I- I always thought, he had a thing for you. I think we all thought it. That’s why, well, I-“

“Really?” You cut him off- tugging on your lip harder when he nods. He watches as your fingers grab onto the skin of your arm harder, pinching it between your fingers with unease.

“Do you want a hug?” Bucky asks, voice soft, eyes soft, but with uncertainty.

You nod, almost childlike, immediately melting when he pulls you into a tight embrace. The fabric of his jacket is enough to warm you, fingers folding into it to pull him tighter.

“I’m getting your jacket wet,” You mumble, muffled, head buried in his chest.

He blows a raspberry, mouth vibrating against your hair, “I don’t care.”

It’s the constant throbbing in your brain— the fear of you being you that keeps dragging you down. The fear that you weren’t good enough, weren’t hot enough, weren’t funny enough. It has you crying softly against his chest, rough sniffling muffling with the fabric.

After a few, long, heavy moments of you rotting against his chest, slightly calmed by the constant rubbing he’s providing to your arms, you finally manage to pull yourself away.

Rubbing a tear from your cheek, you gulp. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Hey, what?” His voice strains, “Don’t say shit like that. It’s not personal, I fuckin’ swear. You didn’t- you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s his own shit. That doesn’t mean you fucked up, or-or you’re fucked up.”

Your eyes continue to water, your wiped away tears still making your cheeks sticky and hot. You still can’t look at him, even when he’s holding you, even when he’s guiding you.

“Then why does it keep happening?” Your voice is barely there. Barely a whisper.

“What?”

You swallow, thick in your throat, sucking your bottom lip in behind your teeth.

“This- it’s the second time I,” You breathe, “I just keep getting turned away, rejected, I feel… I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re great. You’re... you’re fun, and you’re smart, and you’re- you’re hot.”

That has you scoffing. It’s not in disdain for him, not in anger— but in sorrow and pity for yourself. The frown on your face is bigger than your own eyes. 

Sensing the tension, the anxiety, he asks: “Do you want to sit down?”

When you say yes, he guides you to the long, L-shaped couch in the corner of the room. Sitting down with you, letting enough space sit between you two so it’s not awkward— but not enough that he can’t comfort you.

“You’re not- you’re not unlovable, or unattractive, or whatever is going through your head right now.” He reassures you, still rubbing your arm with his thumb, “I swear to god.”

When you look at him, you can’t help but feel the words bubbling at your throat, giving you heartburn and scorching your mouth like vomit.

“It was you first.”

First, he’s confused. His eyebrows furrow, his eyes squint, his body tenses. “First?”

But when it hits him, it hits him.

“Oh.” He gasps, “Oh.”

You turn away, staring at the wooden floor poking out from between your feet.

“You never- I never- That’s impossible. I never, I couldn’t have rejected you. You never said anything.” He rambles.

You shake your head.

Oh.

Oh.

His eyes soften.

The years of him dating his past girlfriend; Dot, was her name. They had met in college, hit it off quick, and swallowed up two years of your life. The Instagram photos, the times she slept over, her insistence on PDA and flaunting him anywhere she can— it ate you up. It broke your heart.

“I didn’t know. You didn’t- you never said anything.” He stutters, voice still soft. He sounds sad, almost regretful. He sounds saddened for you and himself. “I’m... I’m sorry. I always thought... I thought you and my brother...” He explains, dread filling his lungs like air. 

Your face only saddens, swallowing thickly. You can’t help but feel your lip quiver, fingers beginning to tremble again.

“Did you actually?” Bucky asks, slowly.

You nod. “Yeah... yeah.”

Bucky can’t help but go silent. He takes a moment, takes a second to really process it, staring off into space next to you for moments before he speaks. The silence kills you, it’s painful, it’s murderous, almost violent in the way it hits you— almost threatening to draw tears from your eyes once again, finally looking at him.

“I wouldn’t have rejected you.” He states, finally, eyes closed. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I... I liked you too, you know.”

“What?” You ask, almost like your flabbergasted by the idea that he would even think about seeing you that way. You’re younger, you’re behind him, you’re from a different world— not even in his peripheral vision.

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “I just, I thought you liked Beckett, so I never- I never said anything. And even- and even if that wasn’t the case, I didn’t want to make it awkward, didn’t want him to hate me for ruining your friendship or something.”

“So you...” You trail off, trying to collect your thoughts, “You were into me, before Dot?”

He chuckles, dry and nervous. “I mean- It’s... it’s shitty, but, I did even while I was with her.”

You’re staring, eyes blank, eyebrows raised, finding yourself trying to soften your breathing again. “Do you, still...?”

“I mean...” Laughing awkwardly again, he leans his elbow on his thigh to rub at his forehead, “Yeah. Yeah. Of course I do.”

“Really?” Your voice is hopeful, a smile appearing at the sides of your mouth.

“Yeah.” He laughs again, but this time, it feels genuine. “I mean- have you looked in the mirror? That swimsuit you’re in today is enough to drive me to fucking drink. And it’s not just because you’re hot, you— you’ve been taking up my mind, like. constantly. Every time we talk, I walk away so fucking...” He lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Satisfied.”

That has you almost crying again, but for a completely different reason. You’re laughing, wetly, trying to pry your eyes away from him despite the fact that you can’t. He squeezes your arm, reminding you that you’re still connected.

When you turn back to him, he brings his hand to your cheek, wiping some stray, wet hairs out of your eyes. His hand lands to cup your cheek, just to hold you.

“Can you kiss me?” You find yourself asking, before you can even think about it.

Bucky’s taken by surprise. It has him almost acting immediately, before he roots out his worries.

“I’m not...” Fingers trailing your face, “I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?”

You giggle, heart beating warm from his care. You shake your head. “No. I promise.”

Slowly, he leans in. He places a tentative, experimental kiss to your mouth— lips barely even pressing against yours. You grab his face, pulling him in, swallowing his mouth in yours. It has him grunting and moaning against you, hand moving to your back to pull you in closer.

After exploring each other’s mouths, practically eating each other whole, Bucky pulls away:

“What about- what about my brother?” He asks, out of breath.

“I don’t- I don’t care about him,” You breathe heavy, nose rubbing against his, “It was you first. It still is.”

He basks in your words like they’re the sun, a grin exploring his entire face and crinkling his nose. He brings you in again; has you moaning and gasping into his mouth, hands holding onto his stubbled jaw for dear life. He can feel his body vibrating, his stomach wrapping up in knots as the familiar, cold desire spreads up his spine; the same one that is spreading throughout your core.

With your body pressed so close to his, getting closer by each minute- you can feel his length under his sweatpants, growing harder with each kiss. He apologizes, pulling away from you.

You’re trying to catch your breath, “Don’t be.”

You lean down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck, fingers trailing down his clothed chest with the same rhythm. Feeling his fingers itching near your ribs, you grasp your hand in his, bringing it to cup your clothed breast.

Bucky groans as he squeezes the mound of flesh— he’s quick to pull down one of your bikini cups, head moving quick to bring his mouth to your nipple. He wraps his lips around the bud, suckling onto it as he massages the rest of your breast.

That has you tossing your head back, letting a moan out into the air- “Fuck.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, mumbling against your bust.

“Yes,” You whine, “Fuck yes.”

With him sucking on your exposed tits, you brush your hand down, palming his cock overtop of his pants. He groans against your nipple, pausing his movements at your distraction.

When he stops, you pull him away from your tits, grasping his face in both of your hands.

“I want you in my mouth.” You confess, breathless.

That has Bucky groaning again, cock throbbing in his pants. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” You whine, “I wanna suck your cock. Please.”

How could he ever say no to that?

With his approval, you lean your head down almost immediately. You pull down his sweats, exposing his boxers, which are removed just as quickly. His cock; hard, leaking and pink at the tip smacks against his clothed stomach. You wrap your hands around his length, suppressing the moan threatening to spill when you realize you can’t even touch your fingers around his width.

When you give your first experimental lick, he’s moaning, head tossed against the couch; “Fuck.”

Bucky’s hand moves to wipe the hair out of your face, watching as you wrap your lips around his cock and slide him down your throat. He’s grunting, moaning at the sight; unable to keep his eyes away from you, despite how they threaten to close. 

He’s salty in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat as you bob your head up and down. Your hand massages the part of his length you can’t fit down, feeling the way he’s throbbing against your palm.

One thing you’ve learned is that Bucky is extremely vocal. He can’t keep his mouth shut— between grunts, moans and whimpers, he’s letting out an entire symphony above you, free hand gripping the couch so tightly his hand turns white.

You lean up to grab his hand, pressing both of them at the back of your neck as a signal. 

He stares into your eyes, big and round above his cock, “Are you sure?”

You hum against his cock, making him grunt.

“Fuck, okay.”

Bucky grips your hair between his hands, spreading his legs enough to let himself balance. He starts slow; pushing and pulling you up and down his cock, groaning at the feeling of your tongue moving around his tip. 

He gets faster, fucking your face within minutes. You’re gagging around him, spit trailing down onto his pants, tears slipping from your eyes to mix with your already wet face. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl.” Bucky moans, “Takin’ it so well. You like my cock down your throat? You like letting me use that little mouth of yours?”

When you moan at his words, he can’t help but laugh.

“God, I know you do,” He gets faster, grunting harder, “I can tell. Such a little- fuck, little whore, lettin’ me use her like this- I love it, shit, I fuckin’ love it.”

He pulls you off of him with a wet pop, whining at the loss of your mouth- despite the fact that he’s the one who caused it.

“C’mere.”

He’s quick to pull you up, pulling you onto his lap. You can feel his cock against your stomach; but before you can react he pulls you back against his mouth, moaning at the taste of his precum against your tongue. 

Bucky pulls the other cup of your top down, freeing both of your tits to the air conditioned breeze. He slides his hands down your stomach; tickling your skin, before it slips underneath your swim trunks. 

His fingers rub on your folds, smiling when he finds you already soaked.

“You get that wet just from suckin’ me off?” He asks, after pulling away from your desperate mouth.

“Uh-huh,” You whine, “Can’t help it.”

He coos, rubbing your cheek with his free thumb, “I know you can’t, baby.”

Bucky’s fingers catch in your hole, slipping inside with ease. He’s able to fit two in with your provided slick, soaking his fingers and sliding them right in. His thumb flicks at your clit as his fingers scissor inside of you, pumping in and out.

You bury your face in his neck, desperately grinding against his fingers with heavy moans against his neck. That only makes him get faster; pistoning inside your heat with abandon, hitting that spongey spot inside of you with ease.

“You want me to fuck you?” He breathes, strain in his voice clear. “Want me to fuck you right here on this couch, where anyone could fuckin’ walk in and see you?”

You whine, “Yes, fuck, please.”

When he pulls your trunks to the side, he slips inside of your wet heat easily.

Bucky groans at the feeling of your fluttering core clenching around him, harmonizing with your whimpers.

He pulls you up by your chin; softly, stroking your cheek with his hand, despite how it shakes with pleasure. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm. I’m okay. Please move.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your awaiting lips. 

Bucky starts off slow— a tantalizing, torturous grind, barely even moving inside of your cunt. 

“Mm, I know, honey.” He coos, after you whimper impatiently against his skin, “I gotta- fuck, gotta go slow. Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, if I go any faster I’m gonna blow my fuckin’ load already.”

That has you moaning. That image: him filling your cunt, having him leaking out of your folds and onto the couch, over top of your trunks— it fulfills this primal desire in your stomach, making you even more desperate than you were before.

“Oh fuck, do you like that?” Bucky asks, almost shocked, “You like the idea of me fillin’ that little cunt?”

You nod, whining.

“Fuck,” He moans, drawn out in a long groan. His thrusts get faster; he’s grabbing onto your waist, pulling you down against him so he can piston into your cunt from below. You’re loud, moaning into the air as his heavy balls slap against your ass. “God, you’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand draws down to beneath your pants, rubbing your clit in circles.

“Fuck, baby,” Bucky grunts at the sight, “Look so pretty gettin’ yourself off like that, shit, yeah, make yourself cum on my cock. That’s fuckin’ it.”

You’re bouncing on top of him without even moving, tits moving rapidly in front of his face, hair flowing every which way with the fast movement. You’re so close, so desperate to that rope finally ripping, tearing inside of your core in the most delicious way. 

Bucky’s sounds of pleasure fuel your need, getting you closer to that edge, hurdling, hurdling, hurdling, until—

“Fuck, Bucky, fuck!” 

You’re crashing. Falling down off the cliff into a bone rattling orgasm, cunt clenching so hard around his cock you’re suffocating it. Your legs are twitching, trembling around him, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking you through it, using you to get himself off- now that he no longer needs to worry about you coming. 

“Oh god, baby, gonna fuckin’ cum,” He grunts, “Can I really come in you? Fuck, you gonna let me?”

His voice is so genuine, it has you turned on all over again. 

“I’m on the pill, please. Please, fill me up.”

You lean down, whispering, whining encouragement into his ear, practically pleading for him to spend his load deep inside your cunt.

When Bucky cums, he cums hard. His balls slap against your ass one last time, burying himself deep inside of you. His legs are trembling, burying his face into your neck to muffle the yells he’s letting out, almost completely against his will. 

“Oh,” He moans, voice trembling like his limbs, “Oh god.”

“Mhm,” You whine, brushing his hair in your fingers.

You two stay there, wrapped in each other. You can feel his cum dripping out of you already, running down your leg to stain the grey fabric of his sweatpants; which undoubtedly need a thorough washing now.

You feel Bucky leaving soft, gentle kisses against your jawline, up to your ear, cheek and nose, then finally planting one on your lips.

“You okay? Was that okay?” He asks, brushing your hair from your face.

“Mhm.” You hum, again, “Was really good.”

He smiles, genuine and soft. “Good. I’m glad.”

You giggle, bringing him in for another kiss by the back of his head, more sloppy this time.

“Hey, uh,” He says after he pulls away- much to his own dismay, “As much as I’d love to just stay here, we should probably move. They’re gonna be comin’ back from the water, soon.”

“Oh- shit, yeah, right.” You laugh, letting out a harsh breath. But when you move to get up off of him, he pulls you down, wrapping your mouth in another harsh, tongue-filled kiss.

“Sorry, just had to do that one more time.”

[symptoms-syndrome]

Do you know any good resources on adhd, autism and trauma please ? I am trying to pinpoint why my brain is the way it is and while it is probably trauma I want to see if I can definitely rule out the other two please.

I would personally venture to say that it wouldn't be possible to know for sure on your own. In fact, there are certainly some folk who may never know for sure what parts of their behaviors etc. are due to what circumstances.

ADHD, autism, and chronic trauma all make your brain a little different from most. There are a lot of things that can come with living with any one of them, such as feeling like you can't connect with others, feeling easily overwhelmed, or having less faith in support structures. These are not "symptoms" per se, but moreso "common experiences." Many folks with ADHD, autism, and/or trauma are failed by support systems (be they school, parents, etc) and learn similar thought patterns that simply make sense given the context of their growing up. They all share the common thread of growing up "different," which can for many people lead to similar experiences.

One of the harder parts in my personal diagnosis journey was related to gathering information about my childhood. Since ADHD and autism are present since birth, and trauma is often (but not never) later, some ways that some psychs have tried to differentiate is by gathering information about a time before someone's trauma. That's not something that was applicable to me.

In the end, I think it can be helpful to remember that diagnoses are primarily our (as humans) way of understanding the many, many ways brains can work. They aren't always discrete, entirely seperate categories. It may be true that I would not have been diagnosed with autism/ADHD had I not endured trauma, but there's no way for me to know. All I know is that after extensive testing, someone who went to school for a lot longer than I decided that ADHD and autism were labels that fit my behavior, and that those labels have helped me access the things I need, like medication.

Trying to pinpoint exactly why you are the way you are is like trying to make a picrew avatar look exactly like you. These tools (diagnoses, or in this metaphor character creators) are made to best describe groups of traits among groups of people, but I find the more you try to apply things on a more individual level (be that individual people, individual behaviors, or individual symptoms) the less they make sense. Primarily, I think you just need to find what works and gets the point across. A picrew isn't going to have your exact eye shade, because it's not made for you specifically. But that doesn't mean you can't make something recognizably you with the tools provided.

I would suggest considering what benefit a diagnosis will garner you, and if there are other ways of getting those benefits. For some things there may not be, for example it's incredibly hard if not impossible to get Adderall (legally) without an ADHD diagnosis. But if you're trying to learn to understand sarcasm, for example, you don't need a doctor's approval to look online around autistic forums and see what's helped others.

TLDR; our brains are all different, and diagnoses are just our best attempt at sorting them into understandable categories and far from a flawless system. Do what you feel you need to to meet your needs, and understand what those needs are. Decide for yourself what works and doesn't work for you.

Obvious disclaimer that I am by no means a professional, nothing in this is sourced from anything but my own experience and opinions.

[cinnamonapplecrunchbar]

she hates the way her name rolls off his tongue, his tone always so chastising, so condescending. it reminds her of her father, and honestly, she’s sick of the men in her life. sick of them belittling her, sick of having to work twice as hard, be that much more poised, just because she’s a woman. she holds his gaze, her stare powerful, challenging. "classic," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "i can always count on you to do what you do best: throw out tired, juvenile insults because that's all you have." her gaze unwavering. "it’s honestly predictable. but i wouldn't expect anything else from someone with the maturity level of a middle schooler." his words sting. the one’s about how she should just study harder. a brief flicker of hurt flashes in her eyes, but it's gone before he can see it. ‘like i haven't been studying hard,’ she thinks, ‘like i haven’t been losing sleep, drowning in coffee, taking adderall just to stay awake, pushing myself to the edge, drilling this bullshit into my brain until it sticks.’ she blinks quickly, forcing the emotion down, not now, brain. ‘95. still not good enough. never good enough.’ but there's no way in hell she’s letting him see how much it hurts. she straightens, holding his gaze firmly, pushing the frustration deep inside where he can’t reach it. “it’s cute that you think i’m complaining. i’m just pointing out the obvious. you’re a cheater. must run in the family.”

“classic spencer,” andrew starts, turning around in his chair to face her. he lived for little moments like these when he got to boast his smarts and humble anyone who got in his way. they kept him motivated. “we can always count on you to do what you do best.” he smirks playfully. “bitch and moan about how one would have to cheat to score higher than you. instead of you know, just studying harder.”

[darkisrising]

I was gonna say 43 for BobaDinLuke but seeing as how you’ve basically already written that… 22

Oooooooooo... fun! Thanks for the prompt! (as you can see I am blatantly ignoring my WIP because I have zero chill and needed to dive into this one right away) 22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au When the synth opening of the evening’s fourth ABBA song starts up, Boba has officially had it. He needs a drink, maybe three, and since the Skywalker/Naberrie contingent have pulled out all the stops at this reception he knows it’s in his best interest to take advantage of the open bar while he can.

“Whiskey,” Boba tells the bartender. “The most expensive you’ve got.”

When the drink is set before him he shoots it back exactly like he knows he’s not supposed to with whiskey of this caliber and when he catches the bartender watching him he grins, unrepentant. “Another,” Boba says and when he shoots that one back, too, the bartender fixes him with dark eyes that glint in the bar’s blue uplighting.

“Let me guess.” His voice is a rasp, and every bit as intoxicating as the whiskey. “Another?”

“You’re smart. I like that in a man,” Boba says and when his own wicked smile is answered by the slightest flicker of one on the bartender’s face he feels a warmth spreading liquid smooth through his chest. Some of that could very well be the whiskey. Not all of it, though, he decides when the bartender is flagged down and he turns to reveal the curve of a muscular ass in horrible cater waiter black slacks.

“That kind of a night, huh?” the man says when he comes back to where Boba is holding down the end of the bar.

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Oh, it would be better if the DJ would stop playing so much ABBA. And,” he confides, holding up his hand so that Boba can see the red that stains like blood on his palms. “If a certain someone would quit ordering pomegranate appletinis.”

“Boba,” he introduces himself, and the bartender says “Din” before their hands meet in a handshake. He’s got nice hands—broad and warm. Callused just enough to hint at a life spent doing hard, honest work and Boba can’t help but wonder what his chances are that he might get jerked off by one of those nice, warm, callused hands later.

“So how are you related to the happy couple?” Din asks, running a rag across the bar.

“Went to college with the bride’s brother. He never would have graduated without me.”

A raised eyebrow and a silent stare are all the prodding Din does, but it’s effective.

“I used to be his Adderall dealer. Sold it to half the fuckers in here, not that they’d ever admit it. Might crater their political aspirations.”

“Drug dealer to the D.C. trust fund set, huh? That’s a pretty good gig, how’d you manage that?”

“I went to law school right along with them. Graduated top of the class,” and how that had burned some of his peers up inside: the scholarship kid whose Daddy was a nobody that had effortlessly snatched all the top honors out from under their legacy student asses.

If he hadn’t kept meticulous notes of everyone he’d ever sold to he might have worried about someone narc-ing on him. Instead they all knew that if anyone tipped the administration off on Boba’s side hustle he’d be taking down the entire student body along with him.

In college his empire was secure and he’d been untouchable. Sometimes he misses those days.

“Impressive.”

“I am at that,” Boba says with easy arrogance and the bartender’s lips twitch in another smile so Boba decides to go for it. “In ways you can’t even imagine.”

Eyes fill with an answering heat and Din says “I don’t know. I have a pretty good imagination.”

Oh, Boba’s chances of getting those callused hands on his cock are looking very good.

Din catches sight of something behind Boba’s shoulder and gives a quiet “Fuck.”

“Hi! Hello!” a chipper voice says and one very inebriated Luke Skywalker sidles up to the bar. “Another pomegranate appletini, please!” His voice is a little louder than is strictly necessary and Boba doesn’t need to see the red flush that’s spreading beneath the carefully knotted tie to know he’s had an awful lot of those pom-whatever something-tinis.

Din turns away to make the drink and sparkling blue eyes brighten even more when they find Boba. “Hey! There you are! You missed Dancing Queen! But don’t worry, I bribed the DJ and he’s going to play Waterloo next.”

“Great,” Boba huffs and Luke doesn’t seem to hear his sarcasm, only proclaims “Isn’t it?” in the tone of a guy living his best life before he’s kissing Boba with wandering hands and an enthusiastic tongue.

“Your drink, sir,” Din says, and any hint of flirtation is wiped clean from his face.

“Oh, perfect,” Luke’s grin is sun-bright, the kind that used to make Boba’s knees weak back when they’d started hooking up in college.

Still does, truth be told.

“Hey, bartender—”

“Din,” Boba supplies quietly and Luke quickly amends his words with a cheerful “Din. You’re really cute, do you know that? Any chance you want to come home with me and my boyfriend when this is over?”

Boba watches as Din’s cheeks turn pink beneath his dark spread of stubble. Solemn eyes slide between Boba and Luke, considering them both with all the weighted pull of gravity. Luke’s arms around his waist tighten, and he knows Luke well enough to know he’s getting every bit as turned on as Boba is.

“Yeah,” Din says at last. “Yeah, I could do that.”

[roscoe-dream]

Can I request a teen wolf ship then?) For both male and female character, since I’m bi, if that’s ok. I’m female, short (5’2) and insecure ab my body and blame most of problems for my thighs. I have heterochromia i’m blonde. I love art, books and storms. I’m infp, very ambitious + quite smart. I rarely get angry, but I’m comfortable being sassy and I value sense of humor and intelligence in others. I hate rudeness and disrespect, and I’m mostly romantic And drink 4-6 cups of black coffee a day.

sure thing! also i think having heterochromia is suuuper cool :) p.s. i got a little carried away..

TEEN WOLF SHIP.

(GIRLxBOY)

Honestly, girl you are the perfect match for STILES.

And I mean that.

The first thing Stiles will do upon your first encounter is ramble about how cool your eyes are, maybe throw in a few facts about people who have them, and eventually turn into a blushing mess at the realization that he went on a tangent in order to tell you that your eyes are pretty.

He loves you because you’re pretty much the only person who can keep up with him, the pack usually can’t or don’t even bother to mess with the spastic boy, but especially try to avoid him when he’s taken too much Adderall. Stiles comes to you because he knows how much caffeine you drink, and is always happy when you’re just as off the walls as he is.

Stiles always wants you around. He admires youre intelligence and LOVES that you actually appreciate his sense of humor. You’re the only one in the group that actually acknowledges his quick witted comments, sarcasm, or jokes and giggle along side him. He stopped asking others for help with research or getting things done because he enjoys your company so much and likes that you’re able to read up on things with him.

You two do a lot of running around, so there’s never really time for proper dates. Stiles usually sets up his room, grabs his laptop and you two switch off nights picking movies. He obviously picks Star Wars. Whenever you two or intimate or being romantic, he will always make it a point to you ‘I love you’ and ‘You’re beautiful, every freaking aspect of you is.’ Stiles always wants you to be aware of how perfect you are to him, no matter what, and that he’s eternally grateful that you’ve given him the opportunity to make you happy.

(GIRLxGIRL)

I could really see you with MALIA.

Under all that tough exterior, she’s a total baby. I think you can really bring that out of her.

When Malia firsts sees you, she almost immediately indetifies you as a wolf because of your eyes. She’s never seen anyone with eyes like yours from the short time she’s been a human, and she thinks they’re just another like her or Scott.

She finally understands after telling her multiple times (and her not believing you) that you’re only human, but she doesn’t stop clinging to you, saying ‘I don’t care, you smell really good.’ It’s funny because you think she thinks you smell like a dinner, when Malia actually means she’s in love with the scent you give off.

When she develops feelings for you, she wants to always be around, and her scent to linger on you. She’ll give you hugs, making the group give her smug looks because they all know what she’s doing. She’ll linger around with you, looping her arm through yours, sitting next to you in the school library or at lunch. Malia no longer wants Stiles to teach her about being a human, and instead wants you to do it in order to be around you and your scent more.

You end up teaching her about your own loves, books, arts, and storms, which Malia instantly grows to love so she can bond with you. You teach her about being kind, and that being angry or violent is something people don’t usually like, especially you. At this, Malia knows to try and control herself to make you proud.

Whenever it comes to the point of talking about being mindful of people’s downfalls or insecurities, Malia asks you what you mean, ‘What are insecurities, and why do I have to be mindful of them? Just stop having them.’ Not fully understanding, you tell her what having an insecurity is like, along with telling her that you have some as well.

However, growing up as a coyote, Malia hasn’t seen many humans. She doesn’t see ugliness or imperfections on any human body, she finds everyone beautiful. She finds you stunning. So instead of being blunt or rude, she remembers you teaching her to be kind. Taking a deep breath to tell you, ‘Well I think you’re beautiful.’

And maybe, just maybe, you kiss.