#the dopamine and/or serotonin are low as FUCK

[luxflora]

.

[sunlightfeeling]

oh my god I would actually really love if rsd didn’t pay me a visit

I’m already emotionally tired, as is, thank you so much

[boldlyvoid]

I think that Eddie would eat chronically ill!reader out literally whenever bc he'd be like "no baby lay back ive got you all you gotta do is lay there and be pretty" like Does Not care if he gets off

(Not really a request lol but if you wanna expand on it 👀👀)

oh absolutely!!! orgasms are so good for mental health and thus full body health once you get that dopamine and serotonin flowing so he'd be offering to get you off whenever you're feeling down.

cw: chronically ill reader (no exact diagnosis) oral sex (f receiving), lots of praise, use of good girl, baby and princess, hand jobs, titty fucking, cum play

this is my first time writing from this pov let me know what you think

Eddie comes to bed around midnight thinking you're already asleep but finds you reading, not feeling good, just waiting for him to be ready for bed for a cuddle or something... he climbs in beside you and rests his head on your shoulder with his arm thrown around your middle, stealing a glance at the page you were reading with a sigh. "you okay?"

you shake your head, "no... I feel really low and everything hurts."

"baby," he pouts and looks up at you with his big doe eyes, "what do you need? the heating pad? your weighted blanket?"

"I kinda want to get off..." it comes out in a small whisper, you place your book down so you can cup his cheek instead, "can we do something?"

"yeah, baby, of course... you want me to eat you out?" he doesn't even think twice, he simply puts your book on the side table and helps you out of your sleep shorts and panties. your shirt stays on most nights when he goes down on you, he'll play with the hem and grip the shirt instead of your thighs because his grip is strong and you bruise a little too easily. he slips all his rings off and puts them in the dish on his night table and peels off his own shirt. he slips between your legs and kisses the inside of your thighs, "fingers, no fingers? are you okay to stretch your legs out or-

"just don't hyperextend them again," you plead. "but yeah, go for it," you lay back against the pillows more, getting yourself into the most comfortable position.

"you know, I love doing this with you... for you?" he says while lightly rubbing his cheek against your inner thigh, he kisses the side of your knee and then all the way back to your core.

"you're so pretty and soft," he says between kisses, mumbling against your skin, "you're so cute when you're like this; when you just want me to touch you and make you feel better. I would happily spend the rest of my life making you feel better, princess, you know that right?"

you nod along, no matter how many times he does this he still makes you feel breathless with anticipation. "I know, you don't let me forget it."

"good girl," he smirks and leans in more, "ready?"

you nod while reaching forward to push his bangs back, holding them out of the way so he can keep watching you while he eats you out. both pussy lips get a kiss before he parts them with his fingers, using the middle one to ghost over your sensitive clit to tease you.

he feels your hips jolt at the sensation, making him chuckle deep and dark from within, "god, you're so fuckin' hot."

"Please," you beg, gripping his hair tighter, "need you..."

"okay, okay," he teases, his breath hot on your pussy.

he is always soft and sweet at first, with gentle kisses to your clit, he drags his tongue over your cunt and swirls around the wetness you made in anticipation of all this. he slowly but surely gets hungrier, making out with your pussy, he groans against your skin and grinds against the mattress, no doubt hard as a rock already. he kikes your leg up over his shoulder as he tongue fucks you.

"oh my god," you mumble to yourself as your back arches, pushing your core against him more and more. he lets you pull him back up to your clit by his hair, "fing-fingers, please? fuck..."

he hums against you, teasing his index and middle fingers over your hole, gathering up your nectar and pushing inside slowly, knuckle by knuckle until they bottom out. he's done this a million times so he knows what you can take, what you like and what you need. based on moans and the way your body arches and twitches, he knows what's hitting and what isn't. he plays you like an instrument, he follows the notes in order and makes you moan a beautiful song as you reach your orgasm.

and he doesn't pull away, he knows you like the slight overstimulation, you like to feel something intense after hours of feeling empty inside your mind. he sometimes even gets to give you two orgasms in a row like that, only stopping when you rip him back up by his hair.

"okay, okay, holy fuck?" you pant, clutching your chest with your free hand, floating on that fucked out feeling. "it's your turn..."

"I'm fine," he sits on his knees between yours, he pushes his boxers down and grips his cock with the hand that was just two fingers deep inside of you, using your cum to jerk himself off.

"nuh-uh," you sit up and pull your shirt off, showing off your chest, "this is my favourite part."

"you like it when I mark you?" he knows all too well that if he can't be inside you, you're still going to want his cum somehow.

"so much," you lay back down and help him straddle your hips, he doesn't sit on you, he just hovers there while jerking off. he gets to stare down at your tits, and even pushes his cock between them as you hold them tight together.

he holds onto the headboard with one hand and grips one of your tits with the other, paying with the nipple as he thrusts between them again and again. "sweet fuck, you're too good to me, princess. I'm gonna cum."

"cum for me," you whisper up at him, smiling away, loving when he gets like this.

"fuck," he shutters, his hips sputtering as he cums over your boobs and neck, not quite hitting you in the face but enough to make you flinch. he taps his cock against your tit, rubbing his cum into the nipple, "my god, I love you, so much."

you laugh as he gets off you and flops down onto the bed beside you, "I love you too."

he sighs, "give me a sec and then I'll help you to the bathroom."

"take your time," you tease, reaching over to the night table to get a tissue. you clean off your boobs and roll over to cuddle into him. "I'm good."

[salty-an-disco]

🦾 For Cold :)

🦾 Disability headcanon

OK SO–

Cold is both an autistic with low empathy and alexhytimia, and has antisocial personality disorder. He often acts impulsively, with a disregard for his own and other’s safety, struggles connecting to other’s emotional struggles, sees things in a very distant and pragmatic manner etc etc.

They’re also hyposensitive, which is why they can never tell how bad an injury is. Its chronic depression makes it even more difficult for them to get serotonin or dopamine, which can make it irritable and restless alongside the usual numbness it feels.

I also think her joints are kinda fucked up. Unusually stiffy and sometimes turn in weird ways. Just have a Feeling.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

I like the idea of TotK eventually taking up the sitàr, which sitars IRL have this really enchanting, sort of buzzing tune to them.

And, I could legitimately see him just sort of plucking the strings absentmindedly to relax & de-stress. Though, I don't think he'd go out of his way to specifically play anything, instead just sort of vibing out by listening to the sounds. Doesn't mean he won't sometimes end up playing a familiar tune, but it isn't what he sets out to do.

In my mind, I feel like it'd pair quite well with Nemma's shinobue playing. Unfortunately, I've been unable to find anything where a sitar & a shinobue are played together. However, & maybe this is just my wishful thinking, but I think it'd create a type of sound that is very interesting but harmonizes in a unique way.

I love this. Its so soft, the scene is so nice. I love envisioning this, honestly. As someone highly motivated by music (while I cannot play instruments, my sibling was trumpet and I was in choir! I love to sing) Seeing the man just enjoy playing an instrument beside his lover, who is also playing, doing so in harmony... Its so nice. Good serotonin and dopamine right there.

I wanted to ask Chat what instruments the Ganondorfs would play and if they would sing as well. HILARIOUSLY, it swapped the organ, which Ocarina plays CANONICALLY, and gave it to Twilight Princess, and then Gave Ocarina... Drums??? I found it funny so I am just gunna post it unchanged below so you can enjoy and wonder... Chat, what the absolute fuck.

************************************************************************

That's a fascinating idea! Ganondorf casually playing the sitar while Nemma accompanies him on the shinobue would create an intriguing and unique harmony, blending the deep, resonant tones of the sitar with the light, airy sounds of the shinobue. Here's how each Ganondorf, and Demise, might approach music, their preferred instruments, and whether they sing:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Instrument: Oud (similar to a lute)

Skill Level: Skilled

Singing: Occasionally hums or sings in a low, thoughtful tone

Approach: Wind Waker Ganondorf has a reflective side, often playing the oud to unwind and meditate on his plans. His playing is deliberate and somber, each note carefully placed, reflecting his contemplative nature. His voice would be deep, carrying the weight of his experiences.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Instrument: Drums

Skill Level: Intermediate

Singing: Rarely, and only in a chant-like manner

Approach: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf prefers the primal beats of drums, which he uses to channel his energy and focus before battle. His playing is powerful, almost ritualistic, and when he does sing, it’s more of a deep, rhythmic chant meant to inspire his followers or intimidate his enemies.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Instrument: Pipe organ

Skill Level: Highly skilled

Singing: Not typically, but his voice would be deep and commanding if he did

Approach: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is drawn to the grandeur and power of the pipe organ. His playing is intense, dramatic, and filled with dark emotion, often filling the halls of his castle with ominous, echoing chords. He sees the organ as an extension of his own imposing presence.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Instrument: War horn or conch shell horn

Skill Level: Intermediate

Singing: Loud, war-like shouts rather than singing

Approach: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf enjoys instruments that reflect his warrior spirit. The war horn suits him well, its powerful blasts rallying his forces and striking fear into his enemies. His music is bold and straightforward, much like his approach to battle.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Instrument: Sitar

Skill Level: Intermediate, with potential for growth

Singing: Soft, meditative hums

Approach: As you envisioned, TotK Ganondorf would find solace in the sitar, its enchanting tones helping him to relax and reflect. His playing is more about the journey and the feel of the instrument than any particular piece of music. His humming would be soft, almost as if he's lost in thought, complementing the calming sounds of the sitar.

Demise

Instrument: Large taiko drums

Skill Level: Expert

Singing: Powerful, guttural chants

Approach: Demise would resonate with the thunderous booms of taiko drums, playing them with a ferocity that mirrors his own nature. His drumming would be intense, full of raw power, and his chanting would be guttural and commanding, as if calling forth the very forces of the earth itself.

Each of these characters brings their unique personality to the music they play, reflecting their nature and the way they interact with the world around them.

[birgittesilverbae]

Avatrice - sway

The fire has burned low, Mary and Shannon, Lilith and Camila vanishing into their respective tents. Beatrice is still sitting by the fire pit, though, her back against a log, embers sparking in her eyes. Ava gathers a couple bottles from the cooler and settles down beside her, careful to keep a few inches between them. She places the water near Beatrice's hand, where it flutters against her thigh, and cracks open the beer.

"May I?" Beatrice is still concentrating on the dying fire, but she reaches blindly over, and Ava holds the beer out by its neck, presses it into her palm. 

Beatrice tilts her head back, throat long and lean, bobbing as she swallows.

Ava looks away, scuffs her toe in the dirt. "I didn't think you drank."

Beatrice dangles the bottle in the air, works at the label with her thumbnail. "I don't. It just, sometimes it–" She sways forward, brow furrowed, sloshes some beer over the remaining low flame. It flares up for a moment, then plunges the clearing into darkness. "It's the water, did you know? There's not many drinks that are high enough proof that the alcohol burning releases more energy than the water boiling off. It's basic chemistry."

Ava hums, but it doesn't seem like Beatrice hears her.

She taps the bottle against her temple. "The brain, at its most basic, that's just chemistry too. Acetylcholine, norepinephrine, dopamine, serotonin, gamma-aminobutyric acid." She rattles them off in one go, barely pausing for breath. "Stimulating and inhibiting. People call it the world's most complicated machine, and I don't usually get that, metaphors, but I understand here. Because if it were a machine there'd be an operator's manual, or a manufacturer, or somewhere to get answers. But I've just got this black box." She taps the bottle against her temple again, harder. The glass groans under the stress.

Ava shifts forward, eyes glued on Beatrice's hand as her fingers tighten and her knuckles go white. She has to wedge her hand under her thigh to keep from reaching out. "It's alright if you feel like that, Beatrice–"

Beatrice shakes her head. "The morph fixed Shannon's shoulder. It fixed my leg. So why didn't it–" The bottle shatters in her fist. Beatrice doesn't notice. "It fixed my leg."

"Beatrice–"

"It should have fixed me."

"There's nothing to fix."

Beatrice snorts. "You have met me, right?"

"I have, so I know damn well there's nothing wrong with you."

"I feel bad for Suzanne sometimes." She's got her coin out, fingers anxious on it, spotted with blood where the shattered bottle had scored lines across her palm that had healed just as quickly as they'd appeared. "I know she picked me, I know she knew about my diagnosis when she did, but I don't know if she knew what that really meant. That there's not some border where the autism stops and I begin, that it's fucking pervasive."

Ava nods, silent, her mouth dry. 

"She looks at me sometimes and, I don't know, it feels like she's disappointed in me? Like I'm letting her down somehow? And I try, I try so hard to be better, to be normal, because that should make it easier, right? It should be easier."

"Has she ever… Has she ever said anything?"

She shakes her head, flips her coin into the air. She misses the catch, sends it skittering across the rock, and Ava snatches it up mid-skip just as Beatrice goes to reach for it. Their hands meet, fingers half-laced from the reach. Ava freezes, doesn't dare to even breathe. 

Beatrice doesn't pull back.

"She's been nothing but good to me. Which almost makes it worse." Her eyes are locked on their linked hands. "She does everything for me and I can't even do this one fucking thing for her."

"There's nothing to fix, Beatrice."

"Don't try and play it off, Ava. I'm not normal-"

"None of us are."

"It's not the same thing!" She pulls her hand back to her side, fingers tapping frantically at her thigh. "Being a Ranger and being a freak, not the same thing."

"Beatrice."

"Don't pretend like you understand. I'm trapped inside my head knowing this isn't the way other people think, knowing this isn't the way other people act, and I try so hard all the time but I can't fucking change it and I can't fucking fix it."

"Beatrice, I of all people know what it's like to feel trapped inside your own head."

[adhdapp]

YOOO I’m excited! I wanna respect your time and whatnot, but I’m curious about the app called forrest basically you grow trees by focusing for set amounts of time. never tried it but the app store keeps recommending it to me. from a cursory look at the reviews, some people said it helps with phone overuse (hooray??) it is four dollars, not sure that you want to start with that. anyways thanks for your consideration, hope this blog goes super well :DD

This is actually an app I paid for the premium version of years ago, by chance! So I can give it a pretty complete shake. Here's the review.

Forest: Phone usage control

Overall rating: Certified, with stipulations. Here's the tl;dr

App includes a disincentive for failure (tree death), so if you're sensitive to even mildly feeling like you've fucked up, this might not be your bag

Low on novelty, so if you need a variety of goals to pursue quickly, this might not be your bag (other plant unlocks take a lot of time, forest grows one 25 minute increment at a time)

Achievements and events are a big plus, with several relatively easy achievements to keep you going.

No Dark Mode

supports a charity so that's pretty cool

Diamonds shop even after a 1 time purchase: go no further if you are susceptible to impulse purchases, I respect them keeping the lights on with optional bonus content, but it can be easy to chase the Purchase Dopamine and we need to say No Thank You

Red Flags: None, this app has been going steady for a few years and for seemingly pretty good reason. I didn't find any red flags with the charity it supports either. It's not on a subscription model, and nothing in it seems to be ridiculously priced.

Dopamine hits: Okay so the main drive for using this app is growing the big old garden of trees, collecting different trees, and seeing the physical space of that garden grow. With this said I have One Major Concern I'd like to get out of the way.

Are you the kind of person that's going to feel like shit if you let a plant die? Will you accidentally tab out, kill a tree, and be miserable out it? Do not use this app.

It DOES let you clear the dead trees out of your garden (see above) but personally I don't find disincentives like that as compelling as positive reinforcement. The app is encouraging about it (as you can see) but personally I'm wary of things where I can receive what feels like a punishment because I was only productive for five minutes and not the allotted ten I needed in order to keep the tree alive. the stopwatch mode reduces this, somewhat, but again, you need over 10 minutes. Make sure you allow texts or calls in allowed apps in settings so if something comes up you don't have to feel bad about killing a tree.

Features: Forest provides you one or two different tree types you can grow as you focus, and a nice little plot of land. I'll be honest, I don't think the free version gives you very much to work with, but the premium version gives you different kinds of trees you can grow, events, social connections, tracking, custom tagging system so you can track what you're spending your time off your phone doing, and best of all, achievements. Forest also comes with both a count-down and a stopwatch mode so that if you'd like to just study or work as long as you can you don't have to just do it in increments, which is nifty, and a change from some other pomodoro counters/timers. If using the app to just do poms/increments, there's a switch to keep the app on while you work.

Price: This app is a freemium (on android), but honestly, if phone restriction usage apps are useful for you, just buy the thing right out of the gate. It's 3.99 (also the price of the entire app on the apple store) and what you get for that price is like 99% of the functionality of the app imo. 3.99$ for a one-time unlock is ridiculously cheap for what you're getting. However. The other trees do take a hot minute to unlock. So if you need that cheap and easy serotonin and you have an intense need for novelty this might not be the move.

I will add a stipulation here: Make sure that phone restriction apps are actually what you Need if this is what you're using. if you're the kind of person who can respond to messages and still be productive, this may not be your bag. If you're on a computer and you're going to end up scrolling through tumblr on your laptop instead of your phone, this may not be your bag. Phone restriction apps are useful mainly if what you need to do is get off tech and go do something physical, like read a book or do chores. I do Not recommend this if what you're trying to do is write an essay on your laptop. It is just as easy to procrastinate on pc as it is on your phone. However, For What It Is, this app is extremely functional.

This app DOES have a diamond store and in app purchases to make extra cash but frankly I don't actually begrudge them this. With a one-time purchase that cheap and regular events that seem to allow you to unlock other plants, they seem to have a good content balance and hey, whatever they have to do to keep the app running. I just launched it again and it reminded me I have the pro version even through I bought that like eight years ago.

Polish + Customization: I'm grouping these together because I really have the same quibble for both, there isn't a darkmode on the settings screen, which is an annoyingly bright white compared to the rest of the app. News is Also bright white, so is the store, generally a lot of the things off the main page are bright white with no option to change them. I do not love that. But everything is easy to find and adjust, and though the load times can be a little slow (which is annoying) I generally can't complain too much.

Roadmap: News tab indicates that the app is still being updated and having new plants added, despite the developers seemingly have a couple other projects going- they've got a to-do list app I'm going to have to check out and one to prevent you using your phone while sleeping.

So there u go: Proceed with caution and respect for your specific needs, but it's top of the line in its category, imo. You just need to make sure that category is what you're looking for.

[pinkiebellee]

Okay I'm feeling incredibly low, worthless and lonely tonight, as per usual.

To keep on the theme with my blog, here's a picture of my ass. But I would appreciate some love, words of affirmation, praise, attention and just anything of the sort to cheer me up and give me some shred of dopamine/serotonin. Please😩🥺

Very sad brain. Depression is the only thing fucking me lately.

[luxxtuxx]

The Punk Prince And His Pink Princess P3

GO AHEAD TELL ME THIS ISNT PERFECT FOR THIS PLOTT!!!!!!!1111!!1!111!! Part 1 and Part 2 and Part 4 CW: HOBIES A SIMP!! A bit of angst, i have been too nice to yall. If yall ask nicely ill give you a happy ending TW: Making fun of medical equipment -------------------

Thanks to hobies help after a few days, Y/N was back to normal. She showed up her eyes as yellow as ever and back to her happy self. Hobie couldn't help but watch her with a smile almost hidden smile, he was a punk! he couldn't be love-struck by some stupid cute... (NO NOT CUTE WHAT ARE YOU THINKING.) nerd that happily skips around. He was so thankful for his mask so then she couldn't see his stupid love-sick smile She seemed to be looking for something, might as well be helpful to find whatever might be missing. "Looking for something?" he asked leaning down over her. She didn't seem to notice him walking over, a let a scared yelp. She took a breath her eyes fading into a candyfloss pink then nods "yea, I was looking for you!" she said softly in such a sweet alluring amaz- (Hobie! focus! stop it!). "Oh, well here I am what's up? Am I getting a gift or something?" he jokes, pausing his laughter when he sees her shyly nod. God, he is so lucky she couldn't see his face, he was smiling like a dumbass and his cheeks were bright pink.

She reached into her side-clasp purse and pulled out a neat black and red bag, with neatly stacked cookies inside. He felt his heartbeat quicken, they are just some stupid ass cookies why was he feeling this way. (God fuck no, Really heart?! you chose her to be in love with!? FUCK YOU HEART) (Dont cuss me out Blame the brain! He is the one releasing dopamine and serotonin every time we see her!)

Hobie let out a tsk and kinda snatched the cookies "Thanks I guess" he looks away trying to save face. then a little light caught his eye and implant on the outside of her arm... it had a sticker on it. Pink of course, because it's her favorite to dress in. He scoffs "So you let the government fool you into getting a tracker implant? What are you fucking dumb?" it was supposed to be a simple light-hearted joke, he wasn't sure why she used her hand to cover the blinking thing, and ran away crying. The entire squad stared at Hobie like he had 8 heads. "Dude, Not cool," Pavitr says and walks off. Pavitr wasn't easy to anger or upset. Hobie paused "Gwendy, What did I do wrong? I was trying to make a joke about the blinky thingy on her arm" Gwen sighs "Y/n is hypoglycemic, you know that, that's the one thing on her body that no one had ever made fun of her for. it was her Dexcom" Hobie looked confused not knowing what that meant. Gwen sighs "Her glucose monitor so she could know when her glucose was getting low so she didn't pass out on a mission. Dude, every one of us except her can see that you like her, but what you just did was low. Im only telling you this next bit because I believe in second chances, She has a hiding spot in the ceiling on the west wing north hall."

Hobie paused. He fucked up and bad, he needed to fix this, but how?! he knew where she was but getting her to forgive him was probably gonna be the issue

[evolvingchaoswitch]

Scratches, Scars and Stars: Part 2

Rocket was looking down at your broken form as you laid in your room having been transferred from the medicine bay after you had been treated. It was less than two hours ago when you had slammed yourself into an exposed pipe thrusting it straight into your left shoulder with impressive force and flarkin lucky you didn’t end up puncturing a lung. Everything had happened so fast, you had bumped into Mantis, then that stupid message had been sent and you ran like you were being chased by bounty hunters before hurting yourself. Rocket tried to push the memory out of his mind of you being rapidly coloured by your own blood and how they almost didn’t make it to get medical attention because of where the ship was docked; new ship rule they now each carry basic first aid supplies.

Mantis had been hounded by the Guardians to explain what she felt when she touched you only giving the answer “They’re sick” before refusing to answer any more questions for everyone that wasn’t Rocket.

“So what the flarkin hell is wrong with them?” Rocket asked in his typical gruff voice but when you listened closer you could hear just the faint undercurrent of fear in his voice. Anyone with a functioning set of eyes or equivalent would be able to see just how upset Rocket was but he was trying to hide it, though was doing so poorly. All his muscles had been tensed, his ears pulled back and if you were able to look at his eyes you could see that corners were damp almost as if his eyes had been watering.

Mantis had smiled at him sadly before placing a hand on his shoulder “Better if I show you” before letting her powers seep into Rocket letting Rocket feel what she had felt from you.

Rocket was surprised with how familiar most of the emotions had felt to him as most of them were things that he felt himself. Your mind was just as unfriendly to you as his was to himself and he needed to know why. What happened to you on Terran to make the both of you so similar? Was this the reason he was attracted to you or was that the reason he stayed away because you might actually get him. Clutching his head in frustration, Rocket grabbed a medical scanner off the table before making his way back to your room to hopefully get some answers, sorting through feelings and emotions made him feel uncomfortable but going through scientific data points, that was his jam.

As he scanned you he was reminded of a major difference between you two, this scanner might help him to better understand you but would kill him. He cursed the High Evolutionary as he typically did when he was forced to remember the fact. When the scan was done Rocket started going over the information as you rested, Rocket was on the edge of hoping you’d wake up quickly and hoping you’d stay asleep so he could go over the information. It wasn’t pretty and Rocket wondered for the millionth time in his lifespan how Terra was so good at fucking people up without having galactic wars to help with that.

The frown on Rocket's face continued to deepen further as he went over the scanners results, how was it that some many of your neural pathways were damaged and why did it look like it started young. He had seen the ravages of poverty on other species during the Guardians travels through the galaxy but he wasn’t expecting it from you after Quill said that you grew up in a nicer country than him; the concept of countries still felt stupid to him, damn planeters. The levels of cortisol that still remained in your body even after being given relaxants was concerning, like your body couldn’t release stress like it needed a certain level to function; he put that on the growing list of things you both had in common. It was the levels of dopamine and serotonin that concerned him the most with levels this low your body probably had a host of chronic pain you didn’t talk about; like him. Your sleep patterns were probably completely out of sorts; like him. The levels most likely made it hard for you to do anything than feel the negatives in the world maybe more intensely than they actually were; just like him.

He knew the faces of the people that had pulled him apart and now he was desperate to know the faces of the people who pulled you apart just so he shove a blaster up their noses. His ears perked when he heard you rustle on the bed, looking over he could see a couple of tears leaking out of your eyes, so before he knew what he was doing he found himself beside your bed and in the process of stroking your head like Drax had done after Groot died. He watched as your head moved to meet the hand that was stroking your head, so he decided to test one more thing before drawing his own conclusions about you; the actual you. Rocket moved his hand slightly and watched as you tried to find where the source of comfort moving your head to reach for it; touch starved just like him.

You were both complementary opposites.

His trauma made him hurt others, yours made you hurt yourself and Rocket tried to swallow the feelings of guilt within himself that were bubbling to the surface, so he continued petting you. When you opened your eyes he was relieved then pained when he watched your eyes dilate in panic then fear, like you were expecting him to hurt you. Rocket was hoping the painkillers would help loosen your tongue so you both could get through the conversation you both needed but would rather avoid.

“Why’d you want to leave?” Rocket asked you softly as you finally came back to consciousness. It wasn't a tone that you were used to hearing from him nor was the soft look in his beautiful cognac coloured eyes.

After adjusting to the light in the room you stared at Rocket “You guys have Mantis back that’s the entire reason I was here remember to use my social sorcery. So I fulfilled my purpose on the ship, and was waiting for you guys to send me back. "You could feel the sides of your face begin to crease into a deep frown. Usually you’d tried to keep your less than pleasant emotions off your face but you really could give less of a shit right now. Right now everything about you pulsed painfully as you laid in the medicine bay, your head was the worst as the stress of this entire situation continued to consume you even outshining the anxiety that was swimming through your brain freely.

“Why the fuck would you think that?” The anger out drowned out the shock in his voice, why the flark would you think that you were some one use item for them to use then discard. The ghosts of similar memories flooded into his head where he was the one saying the stupid bullshit and he batted those thoughts away to focus on you. Rocket watched as your lips transformed into a cruel smirk across your face, your pupils narrowing to fine points as your irises held a biting cold to them as you glared at him.

“I don’t know after all I’m just the Terran that doesn’t know anything about space, and who gets to feel like a fucking idiot every time I come across something I don’t immediately get and you all roast me like this is common knowledge as if this isn’t my first time to the stars. This just wasn’t a good placement for me”

Rocket winced a bit at the harsh words, they had been doing that. It was the way they interacted with each other. It was sometimes hard to remember that you were fresh to space with how well you dealt with culture shock for everything that wasn’t technology related. He decided to put a pin in that thought for now “Placement”? He echoed back to you. The bitterness in what you said next was jarring to Rocket and uncomfortably familiar.

“I know I’m a stray that’s my fucking roll in life. People like to integrate me into their lives to fill a gap in relationships, they enjoy some novelty about my existence but soon enough the stray get released back and I get to add another experience to my abandonment issues”

Rocket stayed silent as he watched you roll away from his gaze “I just want to be alone with my broken brain” Rocket could smell the renewal of tears that were undoubtedly trailing down your face as he made the decision to sit on the bed with you and try some of that empathy shit that Mantis did. “Why don’tcha talk about it, I mean I’m not great but Quills decent”

“How could I to any of you, when your trauma is so much bigger than mine and mine is a statistic”

Rockets fur bristled “Why the fuck would that matter” “People have made it matter” You had tried to reach out to people of similar situations before and found yourself shut out one space after another since you didn’t rank high enough in their fucked up trauma hierarchy. You felt Rocket continue to pat your head, you didn’t have enough energy to move but you also didn’t want to move from the comforting touch. You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly dry before asking “Why did you leave, was it because I was terrible?” a few more tears leaked down the sides of your face and you couldn’t stand how pathetic you sounded but you hated not knowing more.

“No you were amazing” Rocket moved your head so you had to maintain eye contact when he spoke “You just hit some buttons that I didn’t know I had” You were fairly sure that Rocket was blushing and that made you feel a bit better.

“Why do you care? Most of the time before we had sex you’d seem to avoid me, you didn’t ever seem to trust me”

“It wasn’t because of anything you did wrong Kit” your heart skipped a beat at the pet name he had given to you during the incident “You were able to calm me down during times I didn’t want to be calm. When my head was fuzzy with rage you knew what to say like it happens to you”. You didn’t say anything “It is the same isn’t it” Rocket asked you with surprising softness and he could just barely hear you when you replied “Yes”.

You both sat there in silence for a moment both keeping eye contact with the other before Rocket spoke “I have a plan”

“Oh?” You were curious about what he had come up with in this short time, you were too tired to do anything but listen right now anyway.

“You seem to be shit at taking care of yourself” You snorted at the understatement of the year before waiting for him to finish “And I’m shit at taking care of myself so let’s switch”

You tilted your head to the side “What?”

“You’re really good at taking care of others but don’t really give a shit about what happens to yourself as seen in the lack of technology in your boots” Rocket felt as you briefly tried to pull your head away from the uncomfortable topic, and he would not let you do that but he made sure he was being gentle while restricting you from turning away from the topic.

“And I’m still in the bad habit of letting my brain do the talking when rage got my brain walkin, you know what I mean?”

You let out a weak chuckle, he was trying but you could tell this was hard for him to do.

“So you keep helping me with the calm down stuff and I’ll help you with the will to live stuff, a’ight? He sounded nervous but he looked at ease when he saw the smile slowly start picking up on the corners of your mouth so he added what he thought you needed most “I’m sorry I helped make you feel unwanted” You didn’t know how to respond at that moment so you settled on placing a gentle kiss on top of his forehead you always felt that forehead kisses meant more somehow, like someone was trying to show affection to your brain directly.

“If we have sex again you can’t leave without cuddling first, no after care mean no crazy BDSM style sex”

Rockets ears perked up “So sex is still on the table” He couldn’t keep the tone of cocky pride out of his voice and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“I still like you Rocket that’s why it hurt so much when you left, I don’t do one night stands I need to know the person and how some kind of bond with them before I let myself enjoy myself”

Rocket was silent again so you continued “I’ll accept the offer if you can accept that my progress is going to be slow for awhile and I’ll probably backtrack a bunch”

Rocket snorted “I do that shit all the time hoping you’ll help me with that”

You smiled softly “I accept your offer Rocket”

Rocket’s face broke into a wide smile “Good I’m going to give you a kiss now” seeing that you had no objections Rocket laid a soft tender kiss on your lips without any of the sexual connotations that the last kiss had. He surprised you by placing another kiss on your forehead and that was when you knew things would eventually be ok.

Notes:

This took awhile to write and I hope you enjoyed the ending. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue posting stories but I do have more ideas for this story and a few other OC's. If you enjoyed this story please let me know in whichever way you feel comfortable to show.

[vendettavalor]

@quillheel said: [ 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ] : as sender is about to leave, receiver embraces them. // from Kim to Harry, or perhaps the other way around? up to you!

⚔️ Desperation Prompts // ACCEPTING ⚔️

No one said recovery would be easy. Harry had been told that numerous times since the start of this whole Journey to Sobriety. Mostly from the part of him that represented his ELECTROCHEMISTRY. Time and time again, it had insisted that the lows of his mental state were worse than the crashes of the bottle or the pills. Like a contemptuous toddler trying its hand at reverse psychology to get its way. Thankfully, his rapidly improving better judgment insisted that this was just a natural consequence of relying on substances to regulate his mental health for so long. In time, he would stabilize. But for now, his body had to relearn how to make its own serotonin, dopamine, and other neurotransmitters and endorphins again. The chemical imbalance still remained, even as his organs recovered from the constant, recurring bouts of toxic shock he sent them into with his abusive habits.

And today was one of those low days.

Everything had gone right. They'd solved another case. A relatively easy one this time at that. It was little more than a brief inspection, a few interviews, and the deduction that the culprit to the suspected home invasion was little more than an old canine who'd failed to look before he lept in his pursuit of a mangy feline, and crashed through a window into a woman's kitchen in the middle of the night. (The mutt was fine, thankfully - and Judit even adopted the old dog to give him a more stable home to live out the rest of his golden years in.)

The paperwork was minimal. The weather was nice. But Harry just couldn't find it in him to smile about any part of the day. Not the groggy beginning, not the exhilarating middle which held his passion for problem-solving at the forefront of his mind, and not the satisfying conclusion where everything actually worked out well for once. And now, all he could focus on was the fact that Kim was walking away. Day's work done, the lieutenant was preparing to retire and leave both the station and Harry behind. And for some reason, that made him hurt more.

EMPATHY: You could really use a hug. From him specifically. It feels like he's all you have right now. And you don't think he'd mind that. HALF LIGHT: Fucking pathetic. Of fucking course he would. Toughen up, Du Bois. ESPIRIT DE CORPS: He wouldn't. He's noticed something has been off with you all day. More than just the normal lack of mania that comes with sobering up, he's noticed that you've been generally disinterested in... everything. INLAND EMPIRE: You're not your usual cheerful, eccentric self. Not even with the things that would normally get you hyped up. CONCEPTUALIZATION: He tried pointing out a little figurine in one of the shop windows that looked like it was straight out of the era of disco. PERCEPTION: He did? CONCEPTUALIZATION: Oh, yes. It was beautifully hand-painted with watercolors and varnish, positively garish and glowing against the backdrop of old, dusty antiques around it. You would have loved it. ESPIRIT DE CORPS: You didn't even react to it. That was when he realized something was wrong. Something more than jus the usual rebound low of fresh sobriety. He's worried you might be depressed. It's been on his mind all day since. He's waiting for you to say something so he can start a conversation. You know he's not good with emotions. He prefers rational discussion, unlike you. He lacks your tact or emotional literacy. So, say something. If not to make yourself feel better, he wishes you'd at least do it to ease his mind.

Without another thought to guide him, Harry sways and stumbles forward. Clumsy arms wrap themselves around Kim, pulling him in for a warm, somewhat moist hug. It's comforting for all of a moment, as Harry's breath shudders with barely restrained ache. When was the last time he received physical comfort? He doesn't remember. And his gut tells him he doesn't want to either. Then, he immediately regrets it. There's an unfamiliar sense of embarrassment that washes over him just as the rest of his psyches begin to dogpile his sense of empathy and his gut. He didn't even say anything or ask if it was okay.

Just as quickly, he lets go of Kim and returns his arms to his sides with a bowed head. A muttered sorry escapes him and he moves to retreat back toward his desk like a kicked dog slinking off back to the shameful safety of its leaky kennel. Still lacking impulse control it seems.

Nice one, Harry.

[azure-clockwork]

Late Night Book Reviews with Bluejay — the Night and its Moon

Time: 1:43 pm

Regret: low. I was able to put this book down and finish it during the daytime

Summary: I’m honestly not sure why people like this. I’m not sold on the prose nor on the world building nor on the characters nor on the plot. If you’re one of the people who likes this novel, I’m glad you enjoyed it, but I really don’t understand why. Perhaps it will inspire me to create some stuff of my own.

Full thoughts:

I’m really sorry; I don’t want to be critical of this book, especially since I know people like it. I hope this doesn’t come off too mean spirited.

In theory I should have loved this thing. Two orphans, Nox and Amaris, experience trauma and then get shipped off to learn about their magic powers and become badass. Also, they’re gay for each other. Fantasy, magic, queer female leads, hell yeah!

The only problem was that it lowkey sucked.

One of my biggest problems with this book is its prose. It’s overly wordy, does not flow very well, and frequently is either redundant or confusing. The book will frequently spend two paragraphs hammering in a point that could be told in a sentence and then jump to another action so abruptly I keep thinking I’ve missed a detail. I was often left wondering where hands or weapons or people were located because it just wasn’t mentioned that character X picked up Y and then the next paragraph begins “Using the Y in her right hand, X began to…”.

I was also frequently bothered by the word choice. Most of the sex scenes have lines like “his stick of serotonin and dopamine entered her” and I gotta say, please just say “dick”. Please. Stop listing neurotransmitters. This is fantasy and also the bedroom. Why do these characters know what oxytocin is and why are they bringing it up now. I’m not kidding when I say that multiple sex scenes used specific neurotransmitter names. It doesn’t sound fancy, it just sounds strange. Also, ‘guise’ doesn’t mean that at all. Please get an editor.

I think a lot of other people have talked about how Nox being written as one of the only dark skinned characters and also being a succubus who kills/puppets men around after fucking then is A Choice, and I gotta say, I liked young Nox’s POV a lot, but once the book gets to the succubus section of her life I just fell off. It feels like the book is trying to be very ‘girl power’ and ‘look at this woman weaponizing her sexuality’ and it all falls very flat for me. “She’s so hot and can manipulate any man” ok please tell me something interesting. In general, I felt like both main characters were a bit like this, with Amaris being so badass and good with a sword and having powers and clearly being somewhat of a chosen one, but tbh, I have a lot more tolerance for montages about how Amaris knows lots of demon facts cuz she studies hard than I do for poorly written seduction.

One thing I really crave from stories like this, especially if I don’t love the characters, is a cool magic system. I’m a sucker for hard magic, but I also love soft, emotional magic that erupts at a dramatic moment. And I think that would work much better here in the story. Instead, this book delivers a magic system that I really can’t tell you about because it’s not really fleshed out, and what is told doesn’t seem to gel neatly into a single Thing. I feel like the magic (and more broadly, the world building in general) is just cobbled together from the leftovers of a few different other fantasy stories. Do people hate the fae or not? Is magic taboo or not? What gifts are possible? What the hell are demons? I’m really not sure. And more broadly, the map feels very empty and like it was concocted from tropes and not much else.

I just want this thing to be good. I really do. And it’s just. Not. I was at turns bored and annoyed by it and I still don’t get what I was supposed to love. I would honestly rather reread ACoTaR.

[alice-escapes]

I officially “met” JP through facebook, which is pretty mortifying. He was friends with people I knew, we were a year apart in age, and we grew up in the same environment. We had been facebook friends for a while but we didn’t interact. His profile picture looked like he had played football at a D2 school, which I find uninteresting and not worth my time. But when my second marriage was ending, I kept seeing his posts in my feed. Memes that made me laugh when I desperately needed to laugh. And I reacted, and then there he was, introducing himself in a DM.

I kept blowing off his suggestions of when and where we could meet up. It seemed like a lot of effort for likely very little reward. But the algorithm was working in his favor and he was in my feed over and over and over. I decided fuck it, since I ascribe to the principle of getting over someone by getting under someone else. A friend and I joked about how we wouldn’t even be able to remember his name in a year. The joke was on me.

I went to meet him at his house to fuck him, and nothing else. I wasn’t interested in the civility of a date first, I didn’t want to waste time building up to anything. I wanted to get in, get my brain banged loose, and get out. I remember being startled by his height, how he had to lean his body practically in half to hug me. His height is 6’2”, and I am 5’5”. I have never cared about height, but I kept thinking that he was nearly a foot taller than me.

I will never forget, as we sat on his bed chatting like we weren’t about to get naked for the first time, how his focus was on my hair. My curls were long back then, beautiful and healthy. He had naturally curly hair, as did two of his kids. In a voice that sounded reverent in the moment and my memory, he asked if he could touch my hair. I remember his thick fingers gently holding a single spiral. Later I would tell people that he fell in love with my hair before anything else.

He deserves very little credit for how good the sex was. I was overfilled with some powerful emotions because of my pending divorce, and I have always been great when it’s a one off. I had spent months dodging my marital duties because my second starter husband gave me the ick, so I was overdue sex that didn’t feel like a prison sentence. Unfortunately he was hoked; I was unsettled by the feeling of fate drawing us together. I wasn’t able yet to see the encounter for what it really was, oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine, etc.

He mounted a campaign to make it official, and I didn’t exactly resist. Counterpoint to my estranged horrible choice in husbands, he was supportive and made me feel like he was in awe of my intelligence, how capable I am. I came across a screenshot of a text he sent me way back then, that read in part “I promise I will always be gentle with your heart.” In the final awful months he was part of my life I thought I must not know what gentle really means.

But back in the beginning he seemed to be everything I wanted or needed. He had a steady job, a career, he was communicative, thoughtful, and he was home every night. He was overflowing with red flags but I could rationalize those away. Four children by three women felt gauche to me, but he chose appalling women to procreate with and he seemed to be a great dad. He just didn’t take care of any of his kids. The oldest had been no contact since infancy, the next two lived with their mother and there was never any indication he paid child support, and his youngest lived with his mother. He shared equal legal and physical custody with his youngest daughter’s mother, but his mother was the only one raising her, with no financial help from either parent. All three spent time with him, but there was no set schedule, just instances when it was convenient. He was the better parent hands down compared to their mothers, but the bar is incredibly low.

It’s true, no one rides harder for a deadbeat dad than his new girlfriend who believes his baby moms are the only thing keeping him from being with his kids.

His criminal record is embarrassing in frequency and his charges. In addition to possession charges for Schedule I & II, his record is filled with misdemeanor theft charges drug addicts collect, stealing to get money for drugs. I knew he had a heroin habit but he was on the standard opioid agonist use in MAT back then. He used THC products and that isn’t actually a drug. He also popped Adderall, which seemed benign. I learned later that it shows exactly like meth in a drug screen. The biggest and reddest flag was a felony grand larceny conviction. He did 3 of a 5 in county ADC because he had been allowed work release. He was maybe six months away from the completion of the two years of probation on the charge. I felt he had done his time and people can change. I had a family member who was “known to police” and had a similar record who left all that behind.

His family was messy as hell. Fighting, screaming, threats, they seemed to all despise each other. They all talked shit behind one another’s backs while smiling in their faces. His mother and I connected quickly, and she told me almost from our introduction that her son wasn’t good enough for me. I hated his sister immediately, a feeling she returned in equal measure, and found his father (who had a string of wives after his divorce from JPs mother) repellent. But they viewed me as family, as if I was his wife. I endured the times I had to attend family dinners, holidays, and random visits.

Being employed full time, not living with a parent indefinitely are the most basic accomplishments someone should have going into their forties. If I had not been swept up in his expedited relationship timeline, I might have considered that he was a disaster waiting to happen. But I don’t think it would have made a difference. He made me someone who his kids and his mother expected to stay in their lives forever. He seemed to adore me, he was effusively grateful for the most minor things I did for him. I had been indoctrinated, fully entrenched in his family and his life.

Domestic abuse always starts this way. The abuser binds his victim to him by seemingly failing deeply in love far too quickly. He makes the victim part of his extended family. The victim is surrounded with people who delight and adore her. The victim suddenly has a new life and family, and she starts drifting away from her own family, her friends, her life before. I can vividly remember the first time he raised his voice to me. He was talking about something that we’d already decided on and I was already on my way out of the bedroom. He got louder, put more bass in his voice. “Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you!” I froze just outside the bedroom door. It was so out of character, I thought at the time. Instead of telling him that I was not going to accept him yelling at me, I told myself it was an anomaly. I didn’t address it. But I set a precedent, for both of us. I didn’t think I could tell him that I wouldn’t put up with that behavior because I didn’t say it the first time. He learned that he could bully me into doing what he wanted. He would clearly be yelling at me for something but he would insist that he wasn’t yelling. That I would know when he was yelling.

I began creating a gorgeous façade to hide the things about our relationship that I didn’t find alarming but knew no one would understand. We were becoming more and more alike in the worst ways the longer time went on. He was handing off more and more responsibilities, his mother, his kids, the administrative duties and paperwork of his life. I was happy to do it all at first because he made me believe that he came to me because he considered me so intelligent that I could figure out anything.

About six months into our relationship, he was discharged from probation. At the same time, his cousin moved his family back here after living in Portland for several years. His other cousin completed their boys club. Winter disappeared and that spring was the up and down of a roller coaster. JP and I went to his newly returned cousin’s house almost every night. Again, I was accepted as family immediately. They got high but it was a family home, babies and cooking dinner and bath time. And his cousin was someone I came to love very much. AC was even taller than JP, and bigger, a mountain of a man. And he was shy, could be a silent observer. He had a small, sweet little smile that I felt delighted to see when I looked towards him. He loved me in equal measure. He told JP, “Alice is the girl you need to be with.”

JP was laid off due to industry downturn and he no longer had to answer to anyone about his whereabouts. His youngest daughter’s mother began to go off the rails, more interested in drugs than her daughter. And JP was using harder shit too. I didn’t know exactly what, but it wasn’t heroin, which was my biggest fear. Eventually I realized it was meth.

After the layoff he got unemployment, which he chose to have loaded on a debit card every week. I never saw a penny of that m. However he drained my paycheck every week, leading me to hiding an envelope of twenties and he took in the end. I bought the iPhone he relied on, and I paid for the service. He “borrowed” more money from me than I could ever add up. He started staying out all night, stopped answering my calls or replying to my texts. I wasn’t sure what to think or how to handle it. But at the same time everything was still normal, still the quiet life we started with. One weekend we intentionally slept from Friday until Sunday afternoon, the best “date” I had ever been on. One afternoon I woke from a short nap on a Saturday afternoon while he mowed the yard. On the table was a plastic cup holding lilies and peonies. The note he left remained in my wallet for the next few years. I remember him writing that the flowers were from “our” yard. Another tactic to keep me there. Our yard, our house, our life.

Most nights he didn’t come home, but he had slept on his cousin’s couch. I felt relief that he was ok, safe. I didn’t worry about him cheating. He never gave me a reason to be concerned, and even if he was acting like he was doing something I wouldn’t search his backpack or read the messages on his phone looking for proof. One morning his third baby mama’s boyfriend pulled up and insisted that JP had fuck his daughter’s mother the previous night. He demanded to know where JP was but I had no idea what his cousins address was and I had work. I spam called until he picked up and told him to handle his shit. I hung up and told the boyfriend to go the fuck away immediately.

We were around a year in at that point and I was used to his refusal to discuss anything that would make him to blame. But late that night, driving home, he told me what happened and insisted that he had not done anything, that he hadn’t cheated. I had never caught him in a lie so I told him that I trusted him and I believed him. That I was choosing to do so.

That conversation, out of character for JP and out of the blue, is the last memory I have of believing that our relationship was good. The dominos began to fall until it seemed like the entire world was burning down all around me. It took a few more years but we were approaching the beginning of the end.

[primewritessmut]

👻 ✍️ 💥 🛏

👻 Is there a new genre you'd like to write?

Sapphic gothic horror. Gothic horror is not my favorite type of horror (it’s slashers, i know, color you surprised) but I do love the idea of a place being terrifying. I’ve also really wanted to play around with a protagonist that responds to a scary-ass house without fear and what the circumstances of their life might be to make that happen. Idk. It’s hard to explain the idea in an ask but I’m sure I’ll be sliding into your DMs about it later.

✍🏻 Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favorites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

Comments are the only thing that supply my brain with serotonin and dopamine so those, I guess. My brain needs all the help it can get.

I don’t think I care about it as a stat, though. I’m not in my AO3 account comparing the numbers or anything. So I’m that sense, I don’t think any of the stats really matter to me.

💥 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

Wait. Are you calling me out about the wall fucking scene!? Because, yes, I am very excited to write that. I’m actually excited about SO MANY of the projects on my docket for next year. I mentioned the Sylvie/Mobius Variant in another ask so I'll share an excerpt from my bartender/blind dater AU with Loki and Mobius because I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it but never shared anything.

Basically, it's a modern AU with Mobius as a bartender working at the bar where Loki takes all his first dates. He's watched Loki have a hundred disastrous dates and, of course, has slowly become low key obsessed with them. I read a book with this premise that was kind of meh so I decided I'd do it better because nothing fuels me like spite.

So this is the excerpt from their first meeting where Loki has had yet another terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad date, that ends with something on fire.

“And who are you?”

Those brilliant green eyes finally fix directly on Mobius and, despite the circumstances and the soot stains, they’re still filled with defiance. And mischief. God, it’s better than he thought it’d be. “Mobius. I’m one of the bartenders.”

Cards close to the vest, especially when you’re playing against a sharp.

“They couldn’t spare someone with any actual power?”

A condescending smirk starts to pull at those lips and Mobius can picture the entirety of its shape before it’s even halfway there.

“Given the literal fire you lit on the premises, you’re lucky anyone is talking to you at all.”

They lean back and gives Mobius a smile, all teeth and charm. He’s always thought there was an implied threat to bite hidden inside that smile, but also the promise that you might just like it.

🛏️ Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

This is so stupid but I'm a sucker for marriages of convenience. I don't know if I'll ever actually write one, but it might be fun to try. Sort of similar to the forced proximity vibe of a barbarian AU but I love the "we have to pretend to be in love with each other OH NO" vibes of it. Bonus points if there's a bi/pan-awakening involved.

[catwhoisawizard]

Having a hard time with this whole "disabled" thing. I'm watching everyone else go out and live their lives while I'm stuck rotting away at home doing nothing because my brain won't fucking work.

Like, why the hell aren't there ADHD and depression meds that just work? We know those conditions cause low serotonin and dopamine, so why in the fuck don't we have serotonin or dopamine pills!? Nobody can tell me "we don't have the technology", that's bullshit. Is it something inherent to the chemical structure of those hormones that makes it impossible to synthesize? Or is it just capitalism driving companies to not make it because it's not profitable? Is it illegal?

Science people, help me out please?

[tacozrg00d]

I like- spent up all of my dopamine or serotonin today or something

Because now I am sad :(

So now I shall tell the story of my happy chemical loss

Me and my siblings were walking my aunt to her car cause it was on like a hill right? And when we get to her car my dad pulls up in front.

We start walking to his car and he keeps moving foreword so finally I run to catch up in time

It’s funny so I close the door on my sisters so they have to play catch up too except when my dad starts driving off my sisters don’t run

We wait for like 5 minutes for them and then my aunts car pulls up behind us, so naturally we’re like “oh they got in her car”

We drive away from the restaurant, make it like a good distance down the street, about to get on the highway when my sister calls my mom

“Where are y’all???”

“What do you mean we’re right in front of you?”

“We’re at the restaurant-!!”

We all pause and immediately start laughing and telling them to stop joking

“Stop playing, y’all are in Lisa’s car”

“WE’RE NOT”

“Stop playing-“

“I’L FACETIME YOU-!”

I fucking *DIED* holy shit dudes- they were at the restaurant, we actually left them there

I was laughing so fucking much it hurt, and in hindsight I should of been more concerned but it was so gods be damned funny to me, it didn’t seem real

And like- the thing is, my AUNT left them there-! Because sure yeah WE left, but she was behind us, they were near her-!

So I just- I dunno I’ve told this story 3 times since it happened and I’ve only gotten one response which was kind of a mood killer but I took a “nap”

Now I’m here, having a low after the high kind of