#is adderall safe

[leah2eroes]

tumblr stopped being fun at some point in the last like 3 weeks. i hope it comes back. i feel awful.

[bilaudad]

“it’s gaslighty” shut up shut the fuck up

"We removed a major character growth moment"

Mindless attempts at pandering like this drive crazy

[splendidsimp]

[othercrossee]

Remember when zone was happily married

[sucktacular]

.

[raustenacious]

My new meds are fucking with my emotions in bad ways. Especially since it's for my adhd

[solarcitymelodies]

I almost wanna rewrite those posts because in some of them I kinda had a point... idk but I miss the goosebumps fandom man. I promise I'll be less deranged this time

Hey to whoever liked all of my really old goosebumps posts from like 2021? I'm sorry. But also glad you enjoyed! But also HOW did you understand any of it? 😭

[foone]

I spent a while on red-27 which is a decently world to hang out on most of the time. They've got a mostly unified socialist world and aren't worried about immigration so you can totally just show up and hang out without needing fake ID or anything and you can get by without local currency for a long time, since most stuff is free (they've got one of those monetary systems where money is used for luxuries, not necessities: so you can grab a sandwich at the deli for nothing, but if you want to get a big meal at a fancy diner, you pay for that.)

But the annoying thing is that, because of their MLMY roots, they don't really believe in a lot of mental illnesses? And it's worse because they're also very much against stimulants.

So sure, it's nice to take a break from living in capitalism, but eventually I gotta come back to a world that can sell me Adderall, you know? My brain doesn't work.

(they've got historical reasons for this: some Incidents between ww2 and the former US going socialist means they think of stimulants as being a drug you give to your forced labor workforce to make them work harder. Free citizens of a socialist society don't need to be pushed harder, it's a whole "from each according to their ability, to each according to their need" thing: it's bad to try to make people more productive by dosing them with stimulants. Which, I mean, is valid if you're talking about a theocracy dosing their slaves with near-meth, but I think my ADHD situation is a little different, you know?)

I need to find somewhere else I can hang out on, without this issue. And no, Yellow-14 is not an option. They're maybe a much nicer socialist world to hang out in terms of being able to get the medicines you need, but they're not a terribly safe place to hang out on if you're gay or trans. Which is kinda darkly hilarious considering you can get hormones at your local pharmacy for free, no questions asked?

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ║ ❝𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I would like to apologize with how long this took me to write, I will admit, I was too busy planning out a Series for Striker (Helluva Boss). Also, I added another chapter so it’s gonna end with twelve chapters!

Word Count ➳ mentions of violence, blood, sexual content, groping, pet names (Darlin’), swearing, oral (M), mentions of selling drugs (Adderall), alcohol use…

Content Warnings ➳ 2k

JUDAS MASTERLIST

IT WAS A COUPLE OF HOURS AFTER RICK LEFT YOUR APARTMENT.

Your coffee machine was working overtime with the amount of cups you consumed. You couldn’t sleep with the constant texts from Lori and her mother dragging you over the coals about leaving a perfect man like Shane.

If you couldn’t avoid their words awake, you couldn’t find an escape in your dreams, you couldn’t escape everyone’s goddamn opinions. You paced around your apartment, cleaning and reading, reading and cleaning… And they were getting to you. You were starting to feel like you made a mistake.

You had never seen Lori angry, the last time you recounted would be on her wedding day, you couldn’t remember why but just the furious look on her face. And now, to drag her pregnant self to your doorstep and into your safe place, you couldn’t forget it.

No matter how many cups of coffee or the pages you flipped or the mirrors you wiped down or the batter you mixed. It was all starting to become too much to handle.

And when you heard knocking on your door, you were sure it was her again, ready to scream at you once again. You tried to ignore it, but it seemed to get louder and louder by the second. Whoever was on the other side was persistent.

You sucked it up and was ready to curse them out until you saw Daryl. For a moment, everything fell to relief until you saw the bruise over his left eye, a split lip, and bloody knuckles.

Both of you stared at each other. None knew what to say until he attempted to step forward, his voice was gruff and you couldn’t comprehend what was said. You remembered bringing him inside and sitting him down on your chair, asking all kinds of questions.

“What the hell happened?”

“How did you get this?”

Daryl remained silent, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. His eyes looked empty and he never pulled his hands back when you cleaned them, it was only when you reached to take off his jacket and shirt and stood behind him is when he pulled away.

You didn’t know and he didn’t want you to know. He couldn’t. You took a couple of steps back and turned the other way to let Daryl handle the rest of his injuries. You felt even worse now.

Did you overstep?

It was only until the two of you were in your room, that you still bore the shirt he left behind, more like it was stolen from him. You refused to give it back when he was leaving for work.

He laid his head against your shoulder, taking in your perfume, his cologne, and cigarettes.

“Daryl-”

He hushed you with a kiss, pushing you down onto the bed, his hands sliding under the shirt to grope your breasts.

“Please.” You heard him whisper in your ear. “Help me, would ya?”

And you listened, ripping off his leather jacket but letting him take off his shirt himself. You knew what he wanted, after all, he too fucked you mindless and he made you think about him.

But even if he was able to fog his mind with nothing but you, you couldn’t do the same. Your mind wouldn’t go blank and think about how good he felt inside of you or how he knew what made you click.

It was early in the morning, around seven. You had a freshly brewed cup of coffee as you sat back on your recliner, legs crossed as your eyes were glued to under the sofa. You could see the corner of the paper peeking out. Your nails tapped the mug.

“That guy isn’t who he seems to be.”

You scoffed to yourself. How desperate is Shane that he needed to have a background check on someone because you rejected him?

It was baffling, you never thought a man like Shane could go this far. You always held him in high regard, you had respect for him even if he got around a lot. But all the women you spoke to said that he was kind and caring, a boyfriend everyone would want.

But you never understood why he had so many girlfriends, he too said they were the best, rarely were bad ones. He once said that he planned on proposing but then they broke up, he refused to say anything about it and she ignored all your texts so you stopped contacting her.

You set the mug on the coffee table and bent down to push the paper back. You then jumped when you felt a hand on your rear, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Dammit Daryl!” you slapped his hand away but smiled when you got back up.

His hair was still wet from the shower, he wore a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. His leather jacket hung over the arm of the sofa. “Somethin’ under there?” He asked you.

You shook your head, grabbing your hot mug. “I was lookin’ for the remote, thought it was there.”

Daryl chuckled, walking to your kitchen. “What’s with the damn coffee?” You heard him say,

You followed him, seeing him pour himself a cup. “If you don’t like it, you can gladly find some other apartment to crash in.” Placing your hands on your hips. “How long you plan on stayin’?”

“Don’ like me ‘ere?” He blew on his coffee a few times before taking a sip, licking his lips.

“You know I do.” You retorted, leaning against your counter. “I’m worried ‘bout you. You show up to my place without a warnin’, all bloody ‘n shit, and you still never told me what happened.”

“Ya really wanna know?”

“I mean… If it’s alright.”

Daryl nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.” He replied. “Shit jus’ got rough at work. Things could’ve gone worse if my brother wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I work at a bike shop, the customer wasn’t happy with the cost of fixin’ his shit bike.”

“A bike shop, really? And here I thought you worked at a cafe.” You joked.

Daryl lifted an eyebrow. “Ya screwin’ with me?”

You snorted loudly, giggling at his reaction. “No shit!” He rolled his eyes at you. “So, where is your shop?”

“North, jus’ into the mountains.”

You hummed. “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“When I was gonna take off your shirt, I-”

“Ya ain’t gotta apologize for shit. Ya were tryin’ to help. Ma fault for not sayin’ anythin’.”

“Well, it ain’t normal for you to come to my place unexpectedly. But I’m glad to see you okay.” You reached over to touch his eyes, grazing over them. “I’d give it a couple of weeks, are you in pain?”

Daryl hummed. “Jus’ some throbbin’.” He set his cup into the sink, his hands coming to your hips. “But I’m sure ya can treat it as well.”

You smirked, that same hand coming down his eye.” Then you gotta tell me what you need.” Your hand trailing down his chest and to cup his semi-hard cock.

“Put yer mouth on it.” He immediately said, keeping eye contact. Even when you got on your knees and slowly pulled down his pants and you grasped his cock.

You could see him getting frustrated, grabbing the back of your head and giving it a push. “Keep your hands to yourself, Daryl.” You told him. “Touch me again and I’ll leave you like this.”

He cursed under his breath, throwing his head back when you jerked him off. “C’mon, darlin’.” He let out a deep breath.

Daryl shuddered when he felt your mouth come around his cock. “Ya sure love playin’ with-”

“(Y/N)! I’m sorry I got-!” Amy burst through the door with Andrea by her side. It was like time froze, her eyes making contact with Daryl’s.

You scrambled to get away, hiding against the counters as Daryl struggled to put his pants back on. “The hell?!” He shouted, tucking himself away as he glared at the intruders. “Who the hell are ya?!” He demanded to know.

Andrea stepped forward, trying to remain calm. “You must be Daryl! We heard so much ‘bout you!” But you could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Y’all couldn’t knock?”

You got up, clearing your throat. “Daryl, this is Andrea and her sister, Amy.” You introduced them yourself. “So guys… What are you doin’ here?”

“...I got your text late.” Amy murmured, looking rather horrified. She did just catch you blowing off Daryl in the middle of your kitchen.

Andrea raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on her lips. “Looks like we interrupted somethin’.” Looking back at Amy, still looking scared. “Care to explain yourselves?”

You glanced at Daryl, who looked angry. “Nothin’. Daryl jus’ stopped by to hang out.”

“Uh-huh… Jus’ hangin’ out… On your knees.” She clicked her tongue. “Totally not traumatized.”

“Stop it.” Andrea whispered in her ear, smacking her shoulder. “So Daryl! Tell us how (Y/n) got on her knees for you.”

“Amy!”

“Hey! I deserve some answers after seeing that!” You argued with Amy, even if the situation was serious, it was still laughable. But you also had to calm the girl down after coming into your apartment like that. The text you sent did sound rather strange, she had never seen you send a message like that.

The two of you were still laughing it off while Andrea attempted to talk to Daryl but refused to look at her, his eyes glanced in your direction but moved off you.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He spoke rather quickly, she didn’t feel like they were intruding… No, she had that familiar suspicion that she had about many others.

“Daryl? As in Daryl fuckin’ Dixon?!”

“The hell y’all be lookin’ for Dixon?”

“If ya do find ‘im, let ‘im know he still owe me my fuckin’ money!”

“Looks like you got us into deep shit.” Any huffed, rubbing her eyes as she sat back in the car seat. “You nearly got us killed over some naggin’ feel you have.”

“Was I ever wrong ‘bout it?”

“No but each time you didn’t us killed!” Any screamed, wanting to pull out her hair. “Dad always told us we shouldn’t go where we aren’t welcomed and we clearly aren’t here.”

It was a couple of days after Andrea and Amy walked in on you and Daryl. Andrea had come to her college and dragged her into her car, not saying a word until they reached the mountains.

Andrea started the car, pulled out of the parking lot of the gas station and drove. “We jus’ ain’t askin’ the right questions!”

“You still wanna ask around? Have some faith in (Y/n). She knows who she’s getting into.”

“C’mon, don’t tell me that Daryl isn’t getting more suspicious by the hour.”

“…You ain’t wrong there either.”

“We’ll try again, jus’ one more.”

Any opened her phone, reading through her texts. “Try the Midnight Rumbling, my friends say it’s a popular spot.”

“Popular as in college popular?”

“Yeah but all sorts of illegal activities. She said that’s where she gets her Adderall.”

“Ain’t that the stuff you guys use to study?”

“Yeah, the campus has been lockin’ down on anyone who sells it. So, they come to this spot to get some of it.”

Andrea chuckled. “And you say I’m a bad influence.”

“Shut up and drive.”

“I gotta admit, at least The Golden Bite has clean floors.” Andrea’s arm was linked with her sisters, the two of them cowering by the loud banter from everyone and how glass was heard breaking.

The drinks were pouring by the second that she had a feeling that the bartender wasn’t even keeping count of each pour.

Amy gasped when she had to dodge two muscular men fighting, a crowd formed around them, shouting cheers and insults along with placing bets on whoever will bite the dust or win.

“I need a shower.” She groaned, following Andrea to the bar. “Feels like somethin’ is crawlin’ under my skin.”

Andrea nodded in agreement, looking over her shoulder. “…I think this might be a lost cause.”

“Now you’re seein’ it?”

“Ain’t you the one who said to come here?”

“It was a recommendation!”

“Bullshit-!”

“If it ain’t Judas! You better have my bike Dixon!”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @devilxbug , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @tremendousstarlighttragedy , @skulliecadaver-blog ,

⊰ Chapter 6 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 8 ⊰

[virtualgirladv]

Can you explain this "Tgirl rescue polyhouse jestermaid" living situation you mentioned? It sounds like a petplay story.

have the cliff notes cause i didn't sleep and that isnt playing nice with my monster with adderall chaser breakfast

real bad living situation got worse

sent a "not safe please help" message to everyone i knew in the state

friend offered to let me stay at his place with gf and meta

been being fun shitposter irl much to the houses pleasure and cleaning up/doing yard work to not feel like a leach and have some sorta thing to do to feel like a person sorta

been getting out of survival mode, getting to see sunlight, slowly getting back onto hobbies and going outside (damn i used to get like 500 steps a day max cause i was pretty much trapped in a room)

can put all my disabilities payments into therapy and food that doesnt make me sick which has been really good

but yeah, things are getting better

[drdemonprince]

Through prescriptions, I've managed to stockpile more meds than I can use, such as Adderall and T. Is there any safe and functional way to redistribute any of these meds to those who need them? Thank you!

Transexchange dot com password trans5

[renmackree]

Pleasepleasepleaseplease can you just write a LITTLE of the Stiles in Derek's DMs??? I just need something to keep me going while you slowly rip my heart out with other ideas?

I will pay in love?????

Hey Anon, I'm guessing you're talking about this post?

Just for you, ok? :)

Eggs

Butter

Cheese

Look up the percentage of Australia desert for **funsies**

Stiles typed out the list and hit send before sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket. The barista called his name and he scooped the large tray of coffees from the counter with a slight wave and a fiver in the tip jar. Shelly always made sure to add the extra whipped cream on his caramel macchiato frost and that was not to be forgotten.

The Boston air was crisp this morning as he stumbled out of the little coffee shop and towards Roscoe who was parked on the narrow street. While school was in Cambridge, the best coffee was across the river and everyone in his Computational biology department knew it.

Which was why Stiles was always the errand boy.

He put the departments coffees in the little box on the floor of the passenger seat strapping it in so that they would be safe for his long (not so long), arduous (re: three stop lights and a bridge), journey back to MIT.

A ding came from his phone, Stiles groaning loudly as he gripped the steering wheel and shook it in frustration.

"I swear, if it's Lydia changing her order for the seventh time, I'm throwing her Herbal tea into the harbor."

Ha. Boston Harbor. Tea. Stiles was hilarious.

He took another deep breath and opened his phone to see a small notification.

DH: Did you finish your paper on multidisciplinary approach to estimating wolf population size for long-term conservation?

"Huh. Specific..." Stiles had finished that paper a few weeks ago, but had barely made the deadline. He had been about to text Danny that the new AI prototype he had installed on Stiles' phone was whack when he saw the notification came from Instagram, not from M.A.T.T.

Another ping came through.

DH: And why would you need the percentage of Australian Deserts? That seems like a boring thing to spend your free time on.

Stiles' mouth hung open, eyes wide as he realized what was happening. Someone was replying to his DMs on Derek Hale's Instagram. He held his phone out like it was a bomb between thumb and forefinger; an almost whine escaped his mouth.

It had started when he was in High School almost 10 years ago now. One night he had been on an Adderall-Mountain Dew-Jelly Doughnut-Pizza high and decided that the best way to keep all his random thoughts in one place was to use the app that distracted him DAILY as a note system. He had even made a burner account so that he could keep all his random thoughts together.

Only problem was, his little distracted monkey brain had accidently clicked on Derek Hale's DMs rather than his fake account. It was five weeks in when Stiles noticed and at that point it was too late. It wasn't like Derek was going to answer him anyways, he had said on NUMEROUS occasions that social media was not his favorite thing and he only had the account to promote his new movies (which Stiles watched religiously. I Was a Teenaged Mothman was probably the worst and best movie franchise to ever hit the theaters and Derek Hale as Mothman was his every wet dream.)

So, he just continued to use it. Grocery lists, reminders, random thoughts at night, future movie ideas, school assignment ideas, complaints about his stupid roommate back in freshman year - he wrote it all.

And now someone was responding to TEN YEARS of DMs.

Stiles didn't know what he should do. Should he ask if this was actually Derek? No, wait that was stupid. Derek wouldn't actually be handling his social media. He had people. Peoples? Multiple people who could answer this for him.

"Some. of. us. have. hobbies. that. no. one. understands. And. I. need. it. to. win. a. bet." Stiles spoke each words as he typed it, sending the message out before typing another one. "And. yes. I. got. an. A. minus. because. Harris. hates. wolves."

Stiles tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and started driving to campus, mind still reeling that someone would be responding directly to random DMs that made no sense. If Stiles was asking questions about when the next IWATM movie, sure that would be a conversation the PR team might engage in. Not this.

Lydia owes you $40 for Venmo

Stiles decided to ignore it and his phone remained silent the rest of the day.

.o00o.

Call your Dad

Finish your stupid damn thesis or s u f f e r

Don't forget to get tickets.

It had been a week since the strange response to his DM came through, so Stiles assumed it was a fluke. He had tried a new note handling app that Danny had recommended, but a day later he had already started throwing things back into Derek's DMs. Hey, cut him some slack, it was a 10 year habit.

His phone pinged and Stiles' mouth almost fell open again. Another response.

DH: What are you getting tickets for?

This time, Stiles was quick to respond.

SS: I'm going to try and get tickets to the Bruins game tomorrow. Gotta love hockey, am I right?

There was silence on the other side of the screen, Stiles letting out a frustrated sigh. Whoever Derek Hale's Social Media manager was, they picked the weirdest things to respond to.

DH: So not Mothman in Love premier?

Ah. Now he knew what this was. They were trying to see if fans were biting at the newest spin off. Smart marketing.

SS: I already have my tickets for that. Opening night, middle row, got the collector Popcorn bucket on hold too. I know a guy.

The three dots at the bottom of the screen indicated that the person was typing, Stiles wondering if they were going to ask for a quote or a picture for the page from the opening night.

DH: You have appalling taste in movies.

Stiles' mouth dropped open again, his mind running at a million miles a minute and then crashing into a brick wall with the word appalling painted over it.

SS: Excuse me, the Mothman movies are absolute hot trash and I eat them up like greasy diner food. Do not talk about my comfort trash like that.

SS: but they are pretty bad, so I mean. You're not wrong.

And done, there was NO way the Social Media manager would ever EVER respond to a fan who said something like that. He could go back to his note taking life and luckily Derek Hale would never know.

DH: Then why do you watch them?

SS: Because you're a fantastic and sexy actor and if I could I'd lick chocolate off your abs.

His phone pinged.

DH: You're not bad yourself.

HUH.

Stiles was speechless, his eyes reading over the sentence over and over and over again. He opened his Instagram and quickly flipped through the pictures he had. Most were of him with the Lab boys, Lydia was in a lot of them, some of him on vacation in Peru, some with his Dad. Nothing that would ever, EVER scream you're not bad yourself.

SS: wow, maybe you do need those glasses checked? Unless scrawny Computational Biology Doctoral candidates really crank your wheel.

DH: Computational Biology PHD? Big change from the FBI you were originally thinking about.

Stiles sucked his teeth. That was the problem with this dynamic. Stiles had written everything and anything about himself in these DMs and it could be anyone reading it.

SS: Cyber security would have been my downfall if I did FBI clearly, since you know everything and I know nothing about you. I don't even know if you're Actually Derek Sampson Hale.

There was a blip of the three dots and then nothing. Right, Well that was fun while it lasted. Stiles had been about to turn on his Playstation and forget everything when the ping came through.

Instead of a text, there was a picture. Low v-neck, black rimmed glasses, slightly messy hair, beard that looked like it needed to be trimmed, holding a sign that read your turn @StilesisMe.

Derek. Fucking. Hale.

"Oh my god, oh my god..." Stiles scratched the back of his head furriously, throwing the phone on his bed and just circling it like a vulture circling its next meal. "Derek Hale sent you a picture, Derek Hale is reading your shit."

He stopped walking for a moment. "You just told Derek Hale you'd lick chocolate off his abs."

Stiles threw himself on the bed, slamming his head over the pillow at least a dozen times. Finally he grabbed his phone and sent a quick message.

SS: I don't send photos on Insta. Add me on snap if you want. @S.S.Stilinski69420

He waited.

God he waited.

And then the little Ghost of a notification from Snapchat appeared saying Haleofaguy added you as a friend. Stiles felt his fingers freeze as he hovered over the accept. Why, why was Derek Hale the movie star talking to him? Was he bored? Was he lonely?

Stiles remembered an interview once where Derek said he liked talking with people and learning new things, so maybe it was that? Maybe Stiles was just an interesting guy that Derek wanted to know.

No matter what it was, Stiles' insatiable curiosity got the better of him and he needed to know just how far this rabbit hole would go.

He took a minute to find a filter he liked and snapped a pretty unflattering picture of himself with the caption this is what your in for, buckle up Mothboy

Nothing happened, and then snapchat told him Derek Hale saved the picture to their chat and sent one back. It was the most unflattering angle Stiles had ever seen of the actor and he couldn't help but laugh.

It's Mothman

[franzizka]

Chilchuck in 50 cherry or Marcelle in 10 Adderall? (Also have a safe flight <3)

thank you for requesting and for the wishes!! have an exasperated man

[chungledown-bimothy]

the label on my adderall says "check with your doctor or pharmacist to make sure it is safe for you to take this drug with all of your other medications"

the use of all, not any, is so funny to me. like, "you're on adderall of course you've got other shit wrong with you that needs medication". incredible.

[schrodingers-slut]

I’m actually sick and tired of us all pretending we don’t know the issue behind the Adderall shortage. Yeah the one that’s been going on for TWO YEARS now. Like ofc no one wants to admit shit, and it’s possible there’s some internal shut with the medical system bc when isn’t there, but I know it wouldn’t be nearly this bad without the war on drugs pearl-clutching attitude.

The DEA loves to fuck us over on the small chance that it’ll make it harder for people who don’t need Adderall to get it. They’re pissed that ADHD diagnosis is becoming increasingly common and they think we’re a bunch of whiny little drug seeking fakers.

But I have what’s looking to be TWO separate conditions that can only be treated with adderall. The alternatives don’t work for me. We tried. That’s the first thing they do. Adderall is only prescribed as a last resort because any competent doctor KNOWS how hard it is to get as a controlled substance.

I’m tired of pretending y’all care about addicts and disabled people.

I’m struggling so badly and I’m LUCKY because if I didn’t have family willing to drive to 15 places to get a single bottle of medication, if my family was any poorer, if my doctors treated me even slightly worse (like they very easily could if I wasn’t a tiny afab white abuse survivor who instinctively people pleases when authority gets mad) I would honestly be on the street, in jail, or in an institution right now.

People with ADHD are KNOWN to struggle with substance abuse. Without access to meds like Adderall that’s all we have. Adderall saves lives and I’m sick and fucking tired of y’all wringing your hands abt it like we don’t know the risks. Like we’re too stupid to make informed medical decisions.

Actual harm reduction and respect of basic fucking rights when it comes to disabled people REQUIRES access to safe, easy, affordable access to medication. You don’t get to whine about it cause it makes you uncomfy that some of us need drugs to jump through all your stupid capitalistic hoops.

Fuck the war on drugs fuck the DEA fuck the stigmatization of disabilities and fuck all you abled/neurotypical pieces of shit that think you know what’s best for us.

[incorrectmlpstudentsixquotes]

Ocellus: We’re getting closer and closer to graduation day, so it’s high time we all start looking at college.

Sandbar: Um, Ocellus? I think you mean ‘colleges’?

Ocellus: Don’t be a stupid, Sandbar. That would imply we’re not all going to the same one!

Sandbar: Oh, this is going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?

Gallus: Why are you so obsessed with making sure we all go to the same college?

Ocellus: (chokes out Gallus) Because I don’t like changes to my environment.

Gallus: Alright! Understood! Put me down! I don’t like choking in this context!

Ocellus: (letting go of Gallus) Now, while it is important we go to a good school, it’s also important we all go to a school we’re all capable of attending. So I have selected Manehattan University.

Cozy Glow: M.U. is actually one of my fallbacks.

Ocellus: BE GRATEFUL I INCLUDED YOU!!

Ocellus: Now then, some of you could do with raising your grades. I’m not gonna name names, but Sandbar and Silverstream.

Sandbar: I’m present.

Silverstream: And I’m a gift!

Ocellus: Sandbar, I took one look at your GPA and promptly threw up in my mouth.

Sandbar: Yeah, it, uh… It does that.

Ocellus: We’re gonna get you on adderall and hope it sticks. Don’t ask where the prescription comes from, I have people. Silverstream?

Silverstream: (batting eyelashes) Yes, Mommy-Celly?

Ocellus: I am literally not a miracle worker, we’re gonna hack the school’s mainframe.

Silverstream: Yay! Crimes!

Ocellus: Smolder, your best hope is pursuing an athletic scholarship through cheerleading. Are you familiar with the terms CTE or ACL?

Smolder: Nope!

Ocellus: Let’s keep it that way. Now go practice jumping off of high places and trying not to break your neck.

Smolder: Bitchin! I do that already!

Gallus: Y’know, Ocellus, I hate to be that guy, but I was actually thinking of taking a gap year-

Ocellus: (pimp-slaps him) Go ahead. Say it again. I flipping dare you.

Gallus: You know what, higher education sounds great all of a sudden!

Ocellus: And if I ever hear you say different, I’m going to staple your beak to your paws and sell you as a tchotchke!

Gallus: Hahaha, I do not feel safe…

Ocellus: Believe in the schedule, my friends! We’re all going to die on the exact same day at the ripe age of 81 after spending our lives in a six-person completely non-sexual polycule!

Swift Foot: (poking her head) Can it be seven?

Ocellus: Maybe! I’ll look through the schedule and see if I can fit you in!

Swift Foot: Yes! Take that personal demons!