#Saturdays are for serotonin

[gunsatthaphan]

"I really like you."

[frommybedroom]

my favorite sight to see

[blujaydoodles]

[monster factory voice] lemme see this perfect boy

[forzafinally]

It's been 84 years since Charles has qualified on pole. Give me back my quali merchant

[alackofghosts]

nascent flash

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

not gonna be on tumblr from 12 noon (uk time) tomorrow until I have watched the new life series episodes - I have work from 2pm - 10pm so I will likely only be able to catch one episode before sunday and I do NOT want spoilers. if we are buddies do NOT dm me about the episodes please until ive watched themmm ^-^ i will cry

[macncheesenibblers]

Hi guys I think I had/have serotonin syndrome today and yesterday. Started a new drug for el fibro

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Mother's Day was mid (other than my son being a fucken rockstar) but I got drunk and watched TWO eps of the serotonin nuke with my husband so honestly it could've been way worse lmao

[luna-andra]

Actually had a W day. Went to the store, cleaned, washed clothes, cooked, AND I EVEN WROTE 1,000 WORDS?!? Now I need to go to sleep at a reasonable time (lol).

[bugsbutch]

i was supposed to get those pictures yesterday :( where are they :(((

[lacy1986]

Much needed today ❤️

Happy Soft!Saturday

@alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @tosoundlessdarkistare @heyyoplayer @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

♡ more soft noah to brighten your day a little ♡

[viennajoell]

Girlfriends on The Green

Summary: Gabe and Will call each other girlfriends on a golf course while Gabe’s actual girlfriend watches it all unfold in real time, helplessly third-wheeling.

Word count: 720

Warnings: Will and Gabe being all lovey dovey

A/N: this is lowkey so dumb I’m sorry😭

So Gabe tells me he booked a tee time for Saturday. I’m like, “Cool, I could use the serotonin.” Then he goes,

“Will’s coming too. He’s my girlfriend now lol”

Which is... classic Gabe. He says stuff like that all the time. Last week he told someone at a party that he was spiritually married to Ryan Leonard and emotionally married to me. Whatever. I don’t react. I just show up.

But when I pull up to the course, I see Will Smith, standing next to Gabe, adjusting his collar like they’ve been together for months.

I get out of the car like, “I’m sorry did I miss a group chat?”

Will grins. “Hey. You’re late. Gabe cried on the way here because I didn’t let him DJ.”

“I wanted to play Sabrina Carpenter!” Gabe yells from the cart. “It was a vibe.”

So now I’m third-wheeling.

Great.

Will and I have been through everything dorm drama, breakup meltdowns, that one time we got into a screaming match over whether it’s “Y2K” or “cybercore.” I have held this man’s hair back while he threw up in a Panera Bread parking lot. And now he’s apparently in a committed emotional relationship with my 20 year old hockey playing boyfriend.

Cool.

We get to Hole 1. Gabe swings so hard his driver goes flying. It lands, like, in the cart path. Will claps

“That’s okay, baby! Let it out!”

Gabe smiles at him like he’s just been told he’s the chosen one.

I stare into the sky, wondering if the sun can, in fact, kill me.

By Hole 3, Gabe’s insisting he “plays better when he’s spiritually aligned.” Will is nodding along. “He’s a Pisces Venus. It checks out.”

“I hate you both,” I mutter, lining up a shot.

“Love you too,” they say, in sync.

Hole 6, they make a TikTok. Not a quick little moment a full-blown, choreographed, lip-synced TikTok on the putting green. Gabe’s doing a dramatic point while Will turns in slow motion.

They make me film it. Twice. Because Gabe blinked the first time.

At Hole 9, Gabe throws a mini tantrum because there’s no more trail mix in the cart. I offer him my granola bar and he says, “That has raisins in it. Are you trying to ruin me emotionally?”

Will gives him a fruit leather from his own pocket and says, “It’s okay. I packed extras because I knew you’d spiral.

They share a forehead touch. Like an actual, lingering, slow-burn forehead touch. I feel like I’m hallucinating.

Hole 11, Gabe completely flops a chip shot. He flings his wedge like a dramatic prince who’s just been betrayed.

Will immediately crouches next to him like a golf therapist. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

“I just feel like I’m too hot to suck this bad at golf,” Gabe whispers.

“You are,” Will says seriously. “You’re hotter than this course deserves.”

At this point I’m texting our group chat like,

“they’re in love and i’m just here drinking a diet coke.”

Hole 14, Will absolutely destroys a drive. Gabe screams. “Did you see that?! Did everyone see that?! That’s my girl!”

“Boyfriend,” I say automatically.

“Right,” Gabe replies. “My gender fluid powerhouse.

By the final hole, they’re in their own little world. Gabe is lying on the grass, sunglasses on, sunburn forming. Will is rubbing sunscreen into his shoulders like we’re not in public.

I finish my last putt and just go, “So… is this what we are now? A throuple?”

Will looks at me. “I mean, if the vibes align.

Gabe: “Honestly I think this is the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.”

Will: “You tried to marry a croissant in February.”

Gabe: “And it was flaky. I’m growing.”

We sit down with smoothies after and they’re already planning their joint F1 TikTok account. I sip my drink and scroll Instagram, waiting for one of them to propose to the other with a ring pop or something.

They don’t.

Yet.

[elllisaaa]

Hello! It'my 1st time interacting. Nice to meet you! 😊 How would SVT Mingyu deal with liking a woman that does everything he does but better? I fell like he'd be a mix of turned on, in awe and also annoyed 🤣 He'd find you challenging and in the process of proving he's better he falls in love with u. You can make it fluff, smut, angst whatever you feel like it. 🥰 Thank you for the hard work. Your blog gives me serotonin.

MINGYU with a girl that does everything better is always a pouty mingyu, and a slightly annoyed mingyu too. everytime he gains knowledge about something new and that he tells you all about it, you only answer "oh, yeah, i already knew that." it's infuriating him because why can't you let him impress you ? it's the same when mingyu wants to help you with lifting something heavy, and you just do it in front of him as if you're not struggling at all. the only way to make you interested in him he has is by impressing you, so mingyu tries harder and harder to find something you're not as good at. it's also annoying how he falls more and more in love with you every time he discovers one of your talent.

"hey, y/n ! look at that, there's an archery session on saturday, isn't that so cool ?" mingyu says as he shows you the flyers he found. "oh, yeah, that's nice. i may go actually, it's been a while since i've practiced." - "practiced ?" - "well, i used to be in an archery club, even did some competition but i stopped." he looks at you dumbfounded, all trace of joy leaving his face and he crumbles the flyer in between his fingers. "can you just stop ?" - "stop what ?" you ask, very confused by his changing behaviour. "stop being so good at everything. it's attractive, but it makes it impossible for me to show that i'm great too. and how am i supposed to make you fall in love with me if you're already so perfect ?" he rambles as a smile spread on your face.

"you don't need to be good at anything to make me fall in love with you mingyu, i already am." you can see his cheeks visibly redden as your words sink in, and he looks at you with wide eyes. "w-what ? you love me ?" - "yeah, of course." - "but i… i only ever embarrassed myself in front of you…" - "i never thought that it was embarrassing, it was cute." the blush on mingyu's face becomes even more obvious as you go on. "y-you think i'm cute ?" - "yes, you idiot." you add before leaning in to kiss him, and even at that, you're gifted, mingyu thinks before closing his eyes shut and pulling you closer to him.

"you really thought i didn't know already ?" you comment as your forehead rests against his. "you did ?" - "it was kinda obvious how you would always try so hard for me. but i loved it, it was cute." every time you said this, mingyu didn't find it in him to be annoyed anymore. actually, now that all of this is out of the way, mingyu can't help but think about how hot you would look shooting an arrow.

"can we still go on saturday ?" - "why's that ?" - "now nothing's stopping me from gawking at you, it's fucking attractive how talented you are." mingyu says quietly, his face buried against your neck to hide how flushed he is. "yeah, you think ?" - "i know it. it's turning me on how you can lift more than me at the gym…" he confesses as you giggle, your ego skyrocketing as you whisper "wanna see other things i'm good at ?" with the way mingyu quickly drags you to his room, you figure that he really wants to discover what more you're able to do.

[forzafinally]

Because what is the point of race pace if you're starting P6 or P8? How much are you really going to make up in the race? Starting P2 and risking falling back to P3 is a better option to me because you're barely reaching the podium anyway the lower you qualify

Ykw. Idc. Bring the risky quali setups back. We'll handle the race pace better than last year anyway considering that the car isn't eating up the tyres that much. I NEED my Charles front-row starts. Enough is enough

[inks-books]

Writing Advice to Keep the Ideas Coming

How to Steal Like An Artist by Austin Kleon is a great resource to start with. It teaches you how to take information around you and put it into your own style and words so that you can create something fun and original.

Understand that writing is a skill you build not a talent you're born with. It's a muscle you gotta build up. The first things you write are going to be bad. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. It just means you are clearing the mud out of the pipes for clear water to come through. Gotta get rid of the crap so the good stuff can come through. 

When I was starting out writing, I would watch a movie and try to describe in my own words what was going on, the setting, and the dialogue happening onto a page. I would then go back in a second draft and add what I call fluff. You can't have a story without fluff. That would just make it bare bones. Give it meat. That's what 2nd and 3rd drafts are for: Adding meat to the bones and fluffing it up to a well rounded, well fed story.

Follow your muse when you get it and help yourself associate writing with something good and fun at first. Like writing a few hundred words (like a paragraph's worth) and giving yourself a little treat as a reward. It can be whatever you want. A bite of a snack, a piece of candy, a sip of your favorite drink. This will Pavlov you into associating following the muse with good things and serotonin. It will also cause it to chase ideas down in a back alley and rifle through their pockets for inspiration to keep the serotonin coming. 

When you write, make sure you do so consistently. This looks different for everyone. It can be for several hours during the day everyday. Or it could be every other day at lunch when you get a moment, or even once a week on a random Saturday for 15-45 minutes. As long as you have a set writing time that you keep for yourself you're going to be good. This is especially good for the days you don't have a muse but still need to write something to get it out of your system or get you past the dreaded writer's block.

Remember to write for yourself and the readers will follow. Don't worry about your audience or revisions until after you've told yourself the story first. This is the first draft. That makes it so that you can have a full draft to edit later and make sense out of it, find inconsistencies, and make it legible. 

Also remember to look at the books and stories you love and dissect what it is that you like about them so you can apply it to your own style in your own words. This could mean plot, characters, setting, grammar style, or dialogue and more. Just find what makes that happy button tick and apply it to your own style, changing to to match your own stuff without plagiarizing.

And lastly, I'm going to leave you with my favorite ira glass quote that really kept me going:

[flamingo-writes]

Autumn English Sky 

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Third person, self insert, fem reader, she/her pronouns used

Summary: Hobie goes out looking for one of his childhood friends, after a while of being missing and busy due to his Spider-Man duties. However when he finds her, she seems to have been struggling for a while. Hobie sits with her in an attempt to get her to open up about it.  Warnings: cursing, mentions of weight, weight-loss (but there’s no explicit description of the reader’s appearance other that having lost some weight), eating disorders, depression, Word Count: 1.7K 

Big shoutout to: @midnightnoiserose, every so often I go back and read the comments you leave to get a serotonin boost. Thank you for supporting my work so diligently 🥺💜

Putting the Author's note here bcs its longer than usual:

Author’s note: It’s been a while, I know. Life’s been busy I guess. ADHD-ing too close to the sun, dealing with adult life, work, periods where I feel burnt out, depressive episodes that come and go, you know how it is. Even though I’ve been constantly writing, I haven’t finished writing, nor I’ve written something I deem good enough to be posted. Whether it's my impostor syndrome, leaving stuff incomplete, or simply because my writing has been lazier, who knows. The thing is I haven’t posted anything in a while. As I’m writing this, I’m thinking: Hopefully this one will stick to the wall, like spaghetti. If you’re reading this, it means I made it. I finished writing something.  I guess this one will be slightly more personal? I’ve been mostly rummaging in my own life events and thoughts, looking for an outlet, so this might as well be that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a while. Hobie can’t exactly place his mind as to how long it has been. He’s been busy. Between taking care of his own universe, protecting people, making art, subversive actions, and taking part in some of the missions assigned in other parts of the multiverse. He was busy, indeed. Not because he had the responsibility to respond to Miguel’s every request, but because his friends asked for help. It’s been hard, tiring even, but not impossible to balance everything happening in his life. Every once in a while he went incognito for a while to catch his breath and ground himself. 

But he had to admit, things slipped off his mind every so often. With Gwen’s constant presence lingering in his sailboat, he’d forgotten to check up on one of his friends. To check up on her, who he called by every pet name in existence but never actually calling her by her actual name. 

“Shit,” he sighed tiredly as he put his guitar aside and got off his bed. Gwen, who was hanging out as usual in his dimension, bouncing her drumsticks on the dining table gazed at him. 

“What did you forget?” She asked, already used to his quirks. 

“I’ll be right back, I might take a while,” he said, completely ignoring her question and grabbing a scarf and heading out into the chilly autumn afternoon. 

Gwen watched him leave, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t weird for Hobie to avoid questions. So this wasn’t anything new. Also when he said he’d be away for a while, that always ended up being at the very least six hours. So she guessed he had some important business to attend to. She sighed and kept drumming on the table. 

As Hobie swung around the city, his mask on, he took the usual route to her place. It wasn’t far away from the dock where his boat was docked. But as he swung past her flat building, he noticed all the lights were off. Gazing through the windows, there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. So he proceeded to keep swinging around the city, going to the usual spots she frequented. 

It was Saturday afternoon, so stopping by her workplace wasn’t an option, she wasn’t there. He tried her favourite coffee shop, nothing. He headed to the park she usually took her dog to, nothing. As his options narrowed down, he went to the public library, hoping to find her. She wasn’t there, not inside the library at least. But she was hanging out by one of the small gardens inside the old building. 

One of the small gardens, with a small playground, and a couple of benches, he spotted a hooded silhouette. Although, even with the hoodie over the head, he was quick to recognise her smell. That familiar smell he associated with a warm hug the countless times she snuck him into her room when he was homeless and she still lived with her parents and let him spend the night and sleep on the rug beside her bed, wrapped in blankets that smelled just like her. 

“Been lookin’ for ya” He said calmly as she was sipping something out of a paper cup. 

As if snapped out of her trance she looked up at him, meeting his honey eyes and smiled at him. 

“Hobie!” She said happily, although he was quick to pick up on the tired tone in her voice. 

Not only  her voice, but something about the eye bags under her eyes, even the sight of her face, he noticed something different. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he sat beside her, and noticed her slight shivering, holding on to her paper cup as if clinging to the heat. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “If you’re cold why don’t you go inside?”

She shook her head solemnly and gazed at the empty playground looking rather bright compared to the autumn dirty English sky. 

“I don’t mind the cold…” She admitted in a low voice. 

“You’ve lost weight.” He pointed out calmly, looking at her attentively. He was aware of her constant recovering-relapsing cycle, noticing how seeing her gain and maintaining her weight worked as an indicator that she was doing good. Seeing her lose weight meant something had triggered her relapse. 

“Sorry about that…” She sighed defeated. 

“Don’t apologise…” He pointed out as he kept gazing at her. “Is everything alright?” 

Hobie didn’t want to admit it, but he felt partially responsible. He knew how important he was to her, they were close friends. Or at least used to be. He’d been busy, absent, and she also hadn’t been reaching out as she would normally do. But he wasn’t looking for someone to blame. He was more worried about her current state. 

“Could be better, frankly…” She sighed and took another sip to her paper cup. “I’ve been maintaining my current weight for a few weeks…” She explained. “I mean, I know I’m looking thinner that I normally do…I lost weight, haven’t gained it back, but at least I haven’t kept losing any more weight…” 

Hobie hummed, and glanced back at her. “Care to share a little bit more, luv?” 

The silence lingered, filled by the howling of the wind. After several seconds. 

“Frankly speaking, I am not sure what happened…” She admitted. “One day, I just noticed my appetite was gone…” She looked at Hobie. 

The tired look in her eyes was enough to tell him she was telling the truth. Perhaps, in the beginning, her eating disorder was tied to self esteem and image issues. But her most recent relapses seemed to be tied to a feeling of losing control, and even an addiction. She’d explained to him that at some point it just felt like an addiction. It was harming, torturous, self destructive, but something about it was oddly comforting, sometimes even euphoric. It was something he couldn’t understand. His time being a homeless boy, the stomach aches he’d get from being hungry for so long were far from gratifying. He couldn’t understand how she’d find comfort in such a feeling. But he understood how addictions worked, and he was more than aware that addictions simply didn’t make any sense. Yet, they held their victim by the throat and seduced them over and over again despite the number of side effects. 

“I’m sorry,” Hobie said softly, filling in the silence. She hummed. 

“Don’t apologise…” She whispered softly in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s not your fault. I really don’t know what caused it…” 

“Maybe if I hadn’t gone MIA for so long…”

“Or maybe it’s just the seasonal depression,” She added and gazed at him. “You’ve been busy, I know that. And it’s fine. You being gone didn’t cause me to relapse,”

“I’m not saying it did. But maybe if I wasn’t missing for so long, maybe I could’ve checked in on you earlier and helped you,” 

Hobie watched her shake her head slightly and look away. 

“There’s no turning back time, plus it’s fine…My appetite is still gone, but I’m not actively losing weight…I just can’t bring myself to gain it back…”

“Baby steps, huh?” 

“I guess…” 

Hobie sighed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him, hugging her tightly. 

“I’m still sorry for suddenly disappearing. I just suck at managing my time,” He smiled when he heard her soft chuckle and her free hand wrapping around his body while the other kept holding her paper cup. “But I’m here now, okay?” He said looking down at her and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. 

“Thank you,” She whispered softly and gazed at him. “The weather is getting colder, the sun setting earlier…and the fact that I’m busy with work as of lately…It’s starting to mess up with my head,” she explained calmly. “I haven’t been able to make any art either…”

“Life’s been busy, hey? It sucks…” Hobie pointed out. “You haven’t made any art because of a lack of time, or a lack of motivation?” 

“Both,” she admitted and gazed at Hobie. 

Hobie sighed. “Come on,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to her. 

“Where?” She asked and finished her drink. 

“Your place…it’s getting late. We can order some takeout, eat together, and make some art. It’ll do you good…” He purred softly. 

“And make what exactly?” she chuckled awkwardly as she stood up and held his hand as he pulled her with him and headed out of the library. 

“Anything…you draw and paint, the possibilities are endless…” He said with a warm and optimistic tone. “You write too so, either a poem or a short story…Just let that silly creative mind of yours spread it’s wings,” 

She chuckled and followed him. Throwing her paper cup on the first bin she found and headed out of the library. 

As Hobie had said, they stopped by some restaurant, ordered take out and went to her flat. They ate dinner, chatted, caught up, and spent the afternoon together. All attempts at trying to make art failed. Feeling rusty, she wasn’t able to make anything substantial, nor anything she liked. But even just the effort made her already feel some sort of relief. 

At the sight of her smile, Hobie felt his own lips curl into a smile as she watched her get frustrated, laugh, sigh and start over repeatedly, whining about being out of practice. He’d say something back, either a sarcastic comment, or a joke, anything in an attempt to keep that smile on her face. 

He decided to spend the night over, reminiscing of their teenage years, when he’d stay over the night in her room. When they were kids, he’d sleep on the rug next to her bed since her bed was that small. Now her bed wasn’t so small, allowing both of them to fit in there. The chilly weather was the perfect excuse to share the bed and keep each other warm. They kept talking well into the night, snuggled under the bed covers, whispering as if they would wake someone else, despite being the only ones in the apartment. Eventually falling asleep next to each other. The company, the talking and the banter, as well as being pushed to create art were the therapy she needed, granting her a good night sleep in a long while.