#adhd plaguing me the last few days

[tinyreploid]

Mm9 thoughts...

the horror of realizing your longevity of your existence is predetermined/preprogrammed and, ultimately, your fate chosen for you...

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not getting into Genshin Impact?

(note: This situation happened two years ago, back when me and both parties involved were in our final year of high school- I am 19 now, and haven't been in contact with both people since. However, I recently brought this situation up with my current friend group and even though they said I'm NTA, it did get me thinking, so I wanted to get a different view on the situation from an unbiased party)

T (F) and J (NB) used to be best friends back in primary school, yet ended up splitting after J essentially ditched T for a new group of friends. When I (F) had to move town and go to a new school due to my mother's work, I ended meeting T, and the two of us became fast friends. We ended up going to the same high school, and stayed friends.

However, looking back on our friendship now, there were a few red flags that I ignored at the time. For example, both of us have ADHD, and while T was more than happy to infodump about her hyperfixations to me and I was more than happy to listen and ask questions, when it was my turn to infodump, she'd zone out and only pipe up to crack jokes. Whenever I tried to be genuine and start a serious discussion with T, she'd quickly change the subject. T never had a problem with telling me off whenever I did something to upset her, yet when I tried to do the same, she'd essentially go "nuh-uh" and try to dismiss my feelings.

One thing that stuck with me was when, one day, the two of us were having a conversation about meme songs, and she brought up 'What Does the Fox Say?'. I made a comment about how that song was my late father's favourite song, and T (knowing how close I was with my father and how sensitive I still was about his death), told me verbatim "No offense, but your dad deserved to die if that was his favourite song."

Despite all these obvious signs that T was not a good friend to me, I stuck with her- after all, she was my only true friend, and I had a very difficult time trying to make new friends.

Cue to a few years, when J decides that they want to try and apologize to T and hopefully become friends with her again. Even though it took a while for J to fully earn her trust back, T eventually accepted the apology and J joined our friend group.

This is when the trouble started.

While T and J like being in larger fandoms and getting interested in whatever game/show is trending right now, I myself tend to stick to smaller fandoms due to anxiety and like to get into new media at my own pace- for example, when Monster Prom was popular back in 2018, I avoided the fandom like the plague, and only decided to give the games/community a shot last year. I also find I get incredibly upset when I try to force myself into a hyperfixation, so I find it kind of hard to join new fandoms until it feels right for me.

So, in 2021, while I was still in my Pokémon hyperfixation from the previous year, J and T had gotten into Genshin Impact. They played the game every day as soon as they got home from school, and would talk about it constantly, often ignoring what I had to say to do so. As I mentioned before, I had no issue with listening to them and asking questions, yet I did have an issue when they couldn't extend the same courtesy to me. It made me fed up that they'd never give me an opportunity to talk about something I liked, yet expected me to politely sit back and listen to them.

Soon enough, they noticed that I was starting to go silent during conversations and wouldn't even bother to add in, so T messaged me to ask what was wrong. I told T my honest feelings about the whole situation, and they claimed that I should just get into the game so we could all talk about it together. When I told her that wouldn't solve my issue of them ignoring my own interests, she snapped and claimed that I was being insensitive about what was her and J's comfort game and that I should be putting more effort into the relationship. We had a bit of back-and-forth, with me telling T about how I felt excluded and unwanted in the group, and her dismissing my feelings and claiming I was being too sensitive. After that, I cut ties with both of them, and haven't spoken to them since.

So, I ask again: AITA for not just forcing myself into liking a game I had no interest in to maintain our friendship?

[demigod-of-the-agni]

tell your followers about our cringe sons..,, (if you want) (i’m talking about jee and cy)

yessir o7 GUYS LISTEN UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️

stelly and i came together one day and shared braincells.. they became our little blorbos, Cyril Antares (stelly's boy) and Jeeva Prabakar (that's my boy. DO NOT CALL ME OUT ON THE LAST NAME. STOP IT. STOP. I AM NORMAL)

Their love is a tragedy... a very beautiful, painful, agonising tragedy. Their story is a tale of college roommates, of roleplaying games, of Star Wars, of dice, of difficult families, of feeling isolated and unanchored, of doctorate degrees, and above all-- reconciling with our pasts when the future looms over us.

oh, and it's also about being subjected to the horrors of entities beyond mortal comprehension and being constantly plagued by death 👍

they are our cringe sons,, they are dorky and they are silly but they are also a match made in heaven <3 Cyril is the guy who is a little too-in love with his D&D campaign, and Jeeva really loves exploring a little too much. They made out at some point. They are the definition of autism/ADHD couple (no we don't self-project in this household).

anyway i think i've divulged a good few details about our boys. stelly can you be a champ and reblog with the BEAUTIFUL TASTY ART YOU MADE OF THE BOYS 🥰🥰💖 very much thank you in advance!!!!! 🫶💖🫶

additional note: this is the meme that encapsulates their relationship

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

Good morning.

Some scientists believe ADHD is caused by the brain processing dopamine inefficiently.

The brain requires chemical homeostasis and if you're processing less dopamine than you need, you are perpetually doing things to help stimulate dopamine production, whether that's impulsiveness, speaking out of turn, making jokes at inappropriate times, picking fights, fidgeting, zoning out, etc.

Worse, when you're asked to do something that's unpleasant and won't allow you to do something rewarding at the same time, like paying a bill or doing math homework, your brain riots because it NEEDS the dopamine and this is actively preventing you from getting what you need. Until you're down to the wire and adrenaline floods your brain, allowing you to Do The Thing on that momentum alone, you're stuck.

You don't get to choose to ignore your brain's need for chemical homeostasis; you have to treat it or work around it somehow.

Stimulant medications address the brain's immediate need for happy chemicals. This is why stimulants calm ADHD people down. Suddenly the brain is no longer screaming for dopamine, and you are actually enabled to do the things, including the boring or difficult things, that you've been wanting to do all along. This is also why caffeine puts a lot of ADHD people to sleep. The brain, finally having what it needs, is calm.

i get why people are scared of stimulant medications but like, when you have ADHD and you're properly dosed, it's not addictive. Because your brain chemistry is different. You're not getting a high, you're actually calming down, for once in your entire life.

It's not like ADHD meds don't come with side effects and downsides. If i could function without them, I'd prefer to, because the side effects are a bummer. I also don't like feeling like i rely on a crutch, especially when shortages, politics, misinformation and ableism make the future of access to them so uncertain; but i feel similarly about my glasses. Kinda wish i didn't need em. You know?

But even with all that said, meds have been a miracle for me. Over the last couple years, my self-confidence has grown. The feeling of fear and failure that's hung over me literally my entire life is lifting, because I'm finding i consistently have the capacity to meet people's expectations and do what's most important. I'm less anxious about unpleasant tasks, because i can be confident in my ability to do them before they pile up. I'm able to be present more often, at work and in the rest of my life. I can show up for my friends. I'm no longer constantly scared that others will Find Out that I'm Faking It, because yeah, I'm a hot mess, but i can get crap done when i need to now usually. I'm actually making significant progress towards goals I've had for years and never been able to start on. I'm discovering that with some strategy, i can have some consistent habits. I'm having more compassion with myself and cutting myself some slack when i do fall short.

Meds haven't fixed everything for me; progress has come slowly with a combination of meds, therapy, getting older, and settling down in life. And i still struggle a lot, with things like keeping my space clean and consistently doing tasks that i don't like or that cause me sensory issues etc. I still struggle with a LOT of shame around my ADHD, every day when i step over that pile of laundry or try to remember where i left my phone. But I'm not constantly scared I'm about to be fired anymore. I'm not ending the workday exhausted from anxiety and spinning my wheels after a long day of under-performing. I'm not so plagued by the feeling that I'm letting everyone down or that I'll never be able to achieve my goals. Compared to a few years ago, i am so happy, calm and confident--i wouldn't have recognized current me.

Meds are a miracle. Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[kookaburra1701]

6 questions

I was tagged by @thana-topsy thank you friend<3<3<3

RULES: answer the questions then tag some folx you want to get to know better/catch up with.

Last Song: Because I am a cliche I pretty much exclusively listen to Synthwave while working (coding.) I was in the middle of listening to Casio Love by Paul Collider. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pQcX6ih9tFk

Last Show : Cells at Work! Code Black - let me tell you I have NEVER been invested in a dude getting a boner as I was by the climax (HEH) of episode 3 and I write and read a lot of M/M fics.

Currently Watching: I'm working my way through all of Max Miller's Tasting History videos. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vlQZ3NPnoLk&list=PLIkaZtzr9JDkNXTsFck0w9CFVF0U-zPlV

Currently Reading: I have ADHD, so I'm almost always reading more than one thing. Non-Fanfic: I'm reading a fan translation of the BL LN "The Otherworld's Books Depend on the Corporate Slave." It's kind of a send-up of the isekai genre (which I usually avoid like the plague) where the main protagonist is a boring accountant who accidentally got dragged along when the Beautiful Magical Teenage Girl was sucked into a portal to the other universe. He's very genre aware and is very exasperated at the teenage girl who keeps falling for all the tropes of the isekai genre. He ends up saving the otherworld with his awesome accounting skills, and must have a lot of sex with the other love interest who in a normal isekai would be the one romancing the Beautiful Magical Teen Girl. It's absolutely bananacrackers and I'm having lots of fun reading through it. Fanfic: Hollow Men by @thana-topsy Tells the story of a Thalmor POW's escape from the clutches of the LDB, and his road to recovery. Like Lightning by JottingProsaist - this fic is single-handedly changing my mind about second-person POV. It's incredibly well-done, and gives the reader a fantastic, intimate insight into different characters' thoughts and motivations. The Prodigal Dragonborn by @ms-katonic-of-tamriel A delightful Lucien Flavius/Miraak romp around Solstheim and Skyrim. If anyone can make Miraak Be Better it's Our Dear Cinnamon Roll Lucien Flavius. Stumbled across this one while desperately searching for M/M fic featuring Lucien. The Bonds of Civility by @nientedenada - Just started this one, but super-enjoying the hasty decision-making by the LDB having massive political fallout, and all of the intrigue that goes along with it.

Current Obsession: The Elder Scrolls. Uh, if we're getting more specific I'm deep into plotting and outlining a massive Lucien Flavius/Kaidan Chivalric Romance trilogy. I'm also polishing up the first draft of a prequel focusing on Lucien and his first few days in Skyrim, so I guess Lucien is my current TES obsession?

Unrelated Obsession: Fiber arts - but this ends up being related to my TES obsession, lol, since I'm currently working on charting out some Elder Scrolls designs for knitting and Tunisian crochet, and also traditional embroidery samplers that might have been done by various cultures in TES. I also love history, especially Roman Empire history, but not in the weird "Julius Caesar did nothing wrong" crypto-fash way but in the "ha ha Diocletian's big naturals (are cabbages)" way. (shoutout to @dwellerinroots for that joke) Also in the "I need to figure out if subligaculae can be untied with one's teeth for historical smut purposes" way. I also have an entire subdirectory on my computer of all the dicks Ancient Romans drew everywhere they went.

Uh, I'm actually writing this while waiting for a pipeline script to finish troubleshooting so no time to sort through and see who's already been tagged, but if you want to do it please do! I love learning more about people. :)

[madcapromantic]

Hey MadcapRomantic, I hope you are having a great day. Im a mad fan of your A03 work To Whom the Wolf King Bows. I noticed while reading it for I'm betting is the 100th time that you haven't updated for a few years. I was just curious if the story was going to be continued? I also wanted to offer my help as a Beta if you need any help. Hope to hear from you soon 🐺

I agonized over how to respond to this message for a full fucking day because it made me so happy that I ugly cried so hard I almost threw up.

So, it goes like this; I have no plans to stop this story. I promise. I write when I can, little bits and pieces, but I don't have much free time. See, since I last updated, I graduated with two different degrees at the same time in the middle of the plague, attended a kind of undergrad clear across the country, painted a mural by myself, started my own business, renovated a space to use as my studio completely alone, and have been trying to get academically published. And, on top of all of this, I was (finally) diagnosed with ADHD (literally, like, a day after I handed in my final thesis project), had a bunch of dumbass family shit explode, and fell into a deep depressive low.

It's not that I have stopped writing. I am also the kind of person who has to be a certain type of mindset in order to write. So, sometimes, even if I have a little extra free time, the will to write might not be with me. It all kind of compounds, you know?

I appreciate the offer to beta, too, but I'd have to get to know you better to ever feel comfortable with something like that. My normal editor is literally one of my best and longest known friends, but they aren't part of the TW fandom, so this isn't a project they are part of, and so I've just been roughing it, lol. If you have, like, discord or something, message me privately with your name or whatever so I can add you, and I'd be happy to talk more :)

[thegooseberrypatch]

Age is Just a Number (Mostly)

As long as we are not talking about some people's definition of "relationships," I feel like age is mostly just a number. Life is rarely so simple as to allow for certain things to stop just because one is 20, 40, or 70. I'm here with several examples for those who have copious amounts, or maybe just a little bit, of trauma. Trauma hurts regardless.

I'm 40. I was raped when I was 12 by a 13 year old boy. I was a ministers daughter, he was the son of a cop and a football star. I didn't tell anyone. I buried the memory. I am one of the few cases of legitimate repressed memories. I didn't remember my rape until I was 20. I was at college, engaged in my first back door experience, and the pain triggered the entire rape scene and the months after the assault. My shrink had never met anyone that had true repressed memories (I'd been seeing him for well over a year.) 20 years after recovering the memories, I am still healing from the experience. I am rarely triggered by certain pains, scenes in movie and tv don't bother me anymore, flashbacks are rare/non-existent. My husband taught me dirty self-defense and made sure I KNEW I could protect myself; so even if I froze and survived another assault, I would know that I was capable and strong. There is everything to be said for SURVIVING. Surviving is not consent. I survived my rape by dissociating. There is nothing wrong with that.

I'm 40 and I have extreme medical trauma and White Coat Syndrome. November 2023, my doctor, whom had earned my trust and respect, laughed at me during an appointment. I was in the middle of an explanation and while I was drawing breath to finish, he burst out laughing and blamed it on impulse control issues. My husband was there, thankfully, as a witness to this. Before that, I had GBS and had no medical care from either my PCP or the Neurologist assigned. He said there was "Nothing wrong with me" after 3-4 weeks of being partially paralyzed from the waist down and unable to walk, hold my urine or bowels. He didn't say "I don't know," or "We'll figure it out," or anything else that wasn't ego driven. HE didn't know what was wrong with me and so I was the one making it up. He lied in his official report in my file and basically said I was anxious and blah, blah. My husband was also witness to this. I've had 20+ years of bad health care, ego driven and incompetent doctors, and conditions no ones bothered with. I need medication to see doctors, I avoid them like the plague, my husband has to attend appointments with me, I start having anxiety attacks 3-4 days before scheduled appointments. The only doctor I trust is my dentist; she is amazing. Snapping out of it, isn't an option because I have ongoing medical issues.

I'm 40 and I suffer from Agoraphobia. I no longer fight it. If I need to go out, somehow I will. But I mostly don't leave my property without my family and I am okay with that now. I used to fight it to the detriment of my mental and physical health.

I'm 40 and I still cut. It's a tool in my toolbox that I rarely use but when I need it, I use it and without guilt. My husband is aware and is supportive of responsible use of this tool.

I'm 40 and I am in the middle of my first eating disorder relapse since I recovered in my early 20's. I got pregnant and weighted 110lbs at 5'2. I was required to gain 10lbs as quickly as possible for her sake. I was also a very high risk pregnancy. The last 2 years, since I had GBS in the summer of 2022, have been extraordinarily difficult, culminating in the near ending of my 18 year marriage. I've been in counseling for years, because I like it, he's been in counseling for well over a year, we're going to do couples to work on communication because that's our main issue: he's autistic and I have ADHD. Our communication is apples and trucks. He's also got other issues, that I won't discuss, that he is committed to working on. We had 7 days where we didn't speak, see each other, nothing. I didn't leave my room, he stayed at work. It was hell. We both came out of it different and ready to fight like hell to keep everything we've built. But that week for me, it was something else. Something scary. I *believed* it was over. I wept for days, had chest pains, anger, rage. I went through the cycle of grief, alone. When we came out of our mutual places, we realized that it was the end of a shit marriage and the beginning of a new one. But now I am in the throws of ED relapse with no tools. I haven't dealt with it in therapy in many years, haven't needed to. I've had a few blips but never a full relapse. I'm trying not to feel stupid, etc. I didn't decide to relapse and my husband is very supportive of me getting it worked out. Before November of 2023 I would have called my doctor and told him what was happening; he's not a therapist but I trusted him, with every fiber of my being. At that time, I knew he would have bent over backwards to help me until I found a new shrink, etc. Now, he doesn't even know and the one person I could have counted on medically, isn't safe anymore. I miss him. I still grieve that *MEDICAL* relationship.

Your trauma isn't you. It's part of you and it doesn't have to rule you. But sometimes, it pops up and makes lots of noise and feeling it and letting it go is probably the best way to deal with it. You aren't alone. One day you'll be as okay as possible.

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

So....I'm just putting this into words as I'm starting to process it all, no one is obligated to reply or DM (you can if you'd like to, just not required). But there's been some...crazy shit my mother admitted that I gotta get out of my brain.

~

Trigger/Content Warnings (uncensored words that can be filtered/blocked): abuse (intentional) & neglect (intentional), ableism, maltreatment of a disabled/mentally ill person, (baffling) transphobia, parental trauma, self harm, ideation/attempts, mention of razor blades

So, we've been tentatively (pending medication evaluation to make sure the meds are working) diagnosed with a few things by a psychiatrist, and prescribed meds for some of it. We now have PTSD (they can't diagnose C-PTSD yet but PTSD helps us get flashback/night terror sleep meds that help us fall back asleep when night terrors/flashbacks wake us up (Prazosin)), ADHD (reconfirmed/previously diagnosed but now approved for meds (Adderall)), D.I.D. (no meds for it but they said they'd “make note of it” because it may affect how/if meds work), and Bipolar Disorder (infrequent/slower swings - month or more long episodes at a time) on paper. We have bipolar depression meds (lamotrigine), ADHD stimulants, & PTSD meds. The bipolar meds are daily, PTSD meds & ADHD meds are both “as needed”.

We've been sleeping way better, and able to actually schedule/go to appointments and apply to jobs and generally be an adult.

The bipolar meds are working. It's like our brain had this thick wintery fog preventing us from seeing more than a day into the future where we were still alive, and now the fog is thinner and I can see days ahead, a month ahead, and actually plan accordingly. And that's only on 1/4 dose (they have to slowly bump you up (every 2 weeks up 1/4) to prevent side effects; after 2 months we'll be at full dose, so in mid February we'll be at full dose). It's amazing how much the meds are already doing given it's just 1/4 what we'll be prescribed when they can.

So,, the fact that the meds are working so well means we have bipolar. I decided to tell our parents just to see if they knew. ...They did. Our father said they already knew but “didn’t wanna force a label on” me.

Two days later I texted our mother with questions and clarifications. How long had they known? What else had they noticed and not told me? Did they know I was trans before I did?

A day after I texted, she finally replied.

They knew we were bipolar 2 years ago. She claims they talked about it in front of me/us so there was no need to tell me (if she's being honest, I don't remember it— but the fact that none of us remember that is...sketchy, especially given our father said they were never going to tell us). The only comment about our mental health that entire time was “you better be talking to your therapist about that” (/snarky) when she saw I'd been self harming. She admitted last year that she “didn't know what to say/how to help”, as if she couldn't have asked her adult child what they needed or how to help. So they apparently knew we were depressed and she did nothing to prevent multiple attempts in that time or to help prevent self harm (she even went so far as to buy us *sharper* razor blades because she claimed she thought we were “slipping [on accident] while shaving” so...she enabled it?)

She also admitted she knew as early as 4th grade that I had clinical anxiety & ADHD. She only tried to get me diagnosed for the ADHD (which didn't finally get diagnosed until 2016, when I was 16 or 17) and ignored the anxiety. That anxiety has turned into even worse diagnose-able disorder levels (which are eased a little with testosterone and bipolar meds but still plagues us nonetheless). So apparently she neglected the anxiety on purpose, and shamed us for ADHD symptoms/traits despite confidently knowing we had it.

She also admitted she knew I was struggling academically as early as middle school. Her only solution at the time was to offer homeschooling, which I of course said no to. It's one of two things she actually accepted a no for (the other was asking if I wanted to go to Christian church, & she didn't really want to go so she quickly accepted a no). When I dropped out of uni in 2020 due to the overwhelmed compounding stress (in hindsight: PTSD flashbacks, newly discovered D.I.D., ragingly unmedicated ADHD & bipolar, autism that wasn't recognized or accommodated...and then a concussion in Nov 2019 adding to all of that), apparently fully aware that I had bipolar and was neurodivergent and showed signs of PTSD, she called us an “academic failure” and a “financial failure”.

She then admitted, unintentionally, why she's been so transphobic the past 5 years since we came out. She claims that she noticed we “suddenly” didn't want to “be perceived as female” in high school, but she attributes this to “lack of self confidence” that needed self defense/martial arts classes to be fixed, and “immature boys” flirting with us. So she basically views us, a transmasc person who is happily 8+ months on testosterone, as an insecure girl who just didn't like to be sexualized by immature boys. I have addressed this multiple times in the past 5 years, including telling her that a gay man perceived me sexually (he checked me out & definitely perceived me as a man; we were in the LGBT+ club at uni together) and it made me very happy, so it had nothing to do with being sexually perceived *if they didn't think I was a woman*.

It's been a few days. I didn't text her back because I was so hurt and angry that she didn't tell me she knew and kept bullying (abusing) me and pressuring me to detransition and refusing to get me meds (even Tylenol wasn't ”allowed” in that house, it was evil, she's a bit of a ‘crunchy mom’) and then bullying me for being difficult and uncooperative. I'm still hurt and angry.

I wanted to assume good intentions. No parent actually hurts their kid on purpose, ¿right? ...¿Right?

But apparently they did. My understanding of my upbringing and my parents is shattered and darkened with some very painful and real shadows and intentions.

I was telling our girlfriend about all this, and she said I have the backstory of a villain origin story and it's amazing that I chose to fight to be a good person despite it all. She's surprised (positively, not like I would've actually) that I didn't kill my parents. But I saw everything I didn't wanna be, and I filled in the blank spaces in the gaps hoping to create someone good. I guess I succeeded, but it hurts that I proved it's possible and my parents are choosing not to do what I did.

So...that's why I've been so quiet lately. ✌😅

~Nico

[aelfwyn]

The Plague

So after three years of successfully avoiding covid, my very own parents brought it into our house (dad had “just a cold” and was “no longer infectious”). Uh-huh. I’m managing with cold/flu tablets, but OH is having a very tough time, and also I get to spend the next weeks, months and possibly years being anxious about post-covid complications, like anything from brain fog (I already have ADHD, I do not need MORE brain difficulty, thank you), to ME/CFS or life-threating cardiovascular illness. YAY!

ALSO I was already aware of this, but being actively in it is really driving home just how badly this is currently managed in the UK. And by “badly” I mean “practically not at all”. Essentially, unless you are in a designated high-risk group, you cannot get a booster shot (my last vaccine was the third dose/first booster, back in DECEMBER 2021), cannot get free tests, therefore cannot report positive test results, and you are not eligible for treatment (unless hospitalised).

On top of that, the guidance for if you have symptoms or have tested positive basically amounts to “try to stay home”. If a kid has symptoms but feels well enough, you can send them to school or child care (!). In the advice for how to avoid spreading it, there isn’t even a mention of FFP2/3 masks, they just say “a face covering that fits snugly against your face and has more than 1 layer“, and again, it’s all “try to work from home”, “try to stay away from other people”. The mind boggles.

And of course I have a ton of work at the moment, so I cannot take a few days off to just stay in bed / on the sofa and take things VERY slowly, which (I hear, on the internet, NOT from health services, because see above for how awful that guidance is) can reduce the risk of long covid.

At least I actually CAN work from home (because I already do anyway, I’m self-employed, I haven’t worked in an office for YEARS), but still. Urgh.

[fontegagrilledcheese]

Dumbasses in Quarantine

This is my Bog Exchange fic! I finally finished! This is for the lovely @herostag I hope they like it!

Special thanks to Dani and Doug for beating my grammar with a stick. Ily <3

This is 2.9K words of idiots being idiots during the plague. Just pure fluff, no CW here. Modern Au.

1. Geralt had finally had enough of Jaskier complaining about all the takeout they had been consuming since everything had gone on lockdown, so here he was, watching a pot of noodles cook while Jaskier was in the living room weeding his island in Animal Crossing for the third time that week. He stirs the spaghetti around before grabbing a second pot and the jar of pasta sauce that he had bought at some point in the last few years. Geralt pours the sauce into the pot, throws some Italian seasoning in and hmms at the consistency before ladling some pasta water into the sauce to thin it out slightly. “Dinner’s almost ready” Geralt softly calls to Jaskier before going back to his noodles, fishing one out to check the doneness. Geralt bites into it and makes a face at the sweetness as Jaskier walks into the kitchen.

 “Everything all right there?” Jaskier inquires, coming over to look into the pots on the stove. 

“Hmmm, I think so. Taste this?” Geralt fishes another noodle out to hand over to Jaskier, who eats it with a hum. 

“That doesn’t taste right,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “But I don't know enough about cooking to dispute it.” 

Geralt hums again, “Think it will be fine?” 

Jaskier just shrugs and goes to set the table, leaving Geralt to finish putting the meal together. Geralt tilts his head at the pots on the stove before pulling out his phone to text  Eskel ‘is pasta supposed to be sweet when cooking?’

While waiting for a reply, Geralt drains the noodles and dumps them into the sauce to stir them in before his phone rings with a call from Eskel. 

“You tried a noodle and it tasted sweet?”

“Yeah, is it supposed to be like that?”

There is a moment of silence where Lambert can be heard laughing in the background before Eskel replies, “Are you sure you put salt in the water?”

“Yeah, poured a bunch of salt in there like you said to.”

Eskel hums, “Are you sure it wasn't sugar? Did you make sure to taste it first?”

The silence on Geralt's side is telling, and Lambert can be heard dying in the background. 

“Thanks Eskel,” Geralt says before hanging up and staring down at the pot of sugared spaghetti. 

“Hey Jask, how do you feel about getting takeout again?”

Jaskier sighs, “What happened?”

Geralt blushes “I… I may have put sugar in the water instead of salt…”

“Oh… but the sauce?” 

“I put some of the pasta water in the sauce to thin it.”

Jaskier starts giggling, “G-Geralt... noooo.”

Geralt sighs, wearily turning off the stove. “So takeout?” 

“Yeah, takeout is fine. Whatever you feel like.”

Geralt hums and pulls up the delivery app, “Sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier sidles up to him, giving him a half hug, “Thanks for trying.” He leans fully into him so he can see Geralt's phone as they order.

2. A while into quarantine, Jaskier decided he needed some greenery in his life, since he couldn’t leave the house. This led Jaskier to order himself a cute little cactus from a local nursery for the next time they order a grocery pick up. Talking Geralt into stopping by the shop on the way back from the store proved easier than Jaskier had anticipated. Geralt had begrudgingly agreed after hours of Jaskier’s pouting and puppy eyes wearing him down. 

Jaskier dances around the apartment with his new treasure before placing it on the sunny windowsill in their living room. Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles at his roommates' antics, “You do know how to take care of it don’t you?”

Jaksier pouts at him, “It’s a cactus, how hard can it be! I just water it every so often and bam, beautiful thriving mini Geralt!”

Geralt huffs at him, grabbing a controller for their gaming console, “You promised I could destroy you at Mortal Combat if we picked up the plant.”

“Yes, yes Geralt I’m coming, just let me water my precious child.”

Weeks later, Little Geralt starts looking a bit droopy, causing Jaskier to water him, but unfortunately Jaskier does not account for his ADHD and lack of calendar filling out, and proceeds to water the poor cactus every day for the next two weeks, water logging and eventually killing poor Little Geralt.

Once Jaskier realizes, he cries to Geralt only a little and has a funeral for the cactus as he throws it away, being the absolute most dramatic about it as possible. Geralt just rolls his eyes at the antics and adds a new plant to the order list to pick up the next time they have their outing to go get groceries.

Jaskier gives Geralt the biggest hug when he realises they’re heading to the plant store and talks excitedly about how determined he is to to not kill Little Geralt the Second; Geralt just rolls his eyes half heartedly but helps Jaskier set up a calendar to keep track of when he’s watered the cactus. This works for about a month before Jaskier gets busy and forgets about his little plant, frying on the windowsill, until Geralt notices about three months later.

“Hey Jask, your cactus is looking a bit… shriveled.”

Jaskier rushes into the living room “NO!” He yells as he slides to a stop on his knees before the  dried up little plant “Noooooooo, Little Geralt the Second, nooooo!” he shakes his fists at the ceiling.

Geralt pats his shoulder comfortingly, “At least it lived longer this time.”

Jaskier shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m a terrible plant parent.”

Geralt hmms consolingly, “We can get you another. I’ll try to help you keep better track of it this time.” 

Jaskier nods, “Thanks Geralt,” and picks up his dead plant to go throw it out. 

Geralt just hmms and pulls up the pick-up list on his phone to add a new little cactus.

Three months later, Little Geralt the Third is thriving in its place on the windowsill, happily soaking up the sun on a bright spring day as a breeze comes through the window. Jaskier dances around the living room, vacuuming and dusting as Geralt cleans the kitchen of the previous night’s actually decent attempt at cooking. Jaskier sings along to ABBA, twirling with his duster mic when disaster strikes poor Little Geralt the Third. Jaskier swirls too close to the window and pops his hip at just the wrong time and the plant wobbles before being pushed off the edge and falls three stories down to the concrete sidewalk down below. Jaskier freezes at the crashing sound and turns to look out the window, staring down at his poor, broken plant.

“Nooooooo, Geralt!” Jaskier yells, and Geralt comes running in from the kitchen, startled by Jaskier’s cry. 

“Jask?!” 

Jaskier just points down at the sidewalk, falling to his knees “Geralt, I killed him! I killed our son! To ABBA!” 

Jaskier sprawls out on the floor dramatically, mourning the fate of poor Little Geralt the Third, who had been thriving wonderfully before going splat on the pavement. 

Geralt sits down next to his dramatic roommate and pats his leg, “That one was actually doing pretty well. Maybe we could get another and just find a better place for it to sit?”

Jaskier sniffles and looks through his lashes at Geralt, “Really?” 

Geralt nods before being tackled to the ground in a tight hug. 

“Thanks Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, nuzzling into his friend.

3. Geralt stood staring into the mirror at the red roots growing into his perfect silver platinum hair. He pouts at it, looking at his hair and then back down at his phone at the pictures of his past beautiful silver hair. 

“I can do it, how hard can it be?” he grumbles, glaring back at his roots. He nods to himself before searching different bleaches, toners, and silver dyes that are available at their local beauty shop.

A week and two trips to the store later, Geralt is once again standing in the bathroom and glaring at his roots in the mirror. “How hard can it be...”

Five hours later, Jaskier comes home from the park to Geralt sitting on the couch in a hoodie with the hood on and scrunched up around his face, pouting.

“So how did it go?” he asks.

Geralt grunts in response.

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” comes Jaskier’s exasperated reply, reaching for the hood over the back of the couch.

Geralt growls and catches his hand, yanking and pulling Jaskier over the couch and partially into his lap.

Jaskier laughs and reaches up again with both hands, trying to use one as a distraction. Geralt growls again and tackles him to the floor to pin him, where they tussle around before Jaskier gets an upper hand and pulls the hood off. Geralt freezes as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

 “Don’t,” he growls.

Jaskier’s grin turns into giggles, then into full on laughter. “Geralt! Your hair!” 

Geralt sits back with a pout, still sitting on Jaskier. “I know, it's horrible.”

“It's bright purple! What did you do!?”

Geralt flushes, “I forgot to set a timer and left the toner in too long. It should wash out and wear off in a few weeks,” he grumbles.

Jaskier continues to giggle. “Well at least it's not permanent, and you bleached the roots pretty well.”

Geralt sighs and nods before laying down on Jaskier for a consolation cuddle. “Yeah, at least there's that.”

4. Geralt’s birthday was coming up and Jaskier was determined to celebrate it, even if they couldn’t go on their customary birthday bar crawl that they had gone on for both of their birthdays since they had been roommates in college. Jaskier wanted to go the extra mile for his bestest friend in the whole world and decided that he was going to make Geralt a homemade cake, icing drizzle and all. Jaskier had scoured the internet for weeks trying to find a cake he thought geralt would like and that he thought he could make with his limited baking abilities. He finally found the perfect recipe for a simple strawberry pound cake that he only had to buy a minimal amount of extra ingredients for. 

The day of Geralt's birthday, Jaskier sets up in the kitchen and banishes Geralt to the living room to play his new Witcher game while Jaskier makes the cake. 

He starts by setting out everything he needs and getting the beaters set up and his recipe out. He preheats the oven and then gets to work measuring everything out carefully, looking back at his recipe often, so often he doesn’t quite notice that he’s grabbed the salt container instead of the sugar and measures out the three cups the recipe calls for before adding it into the wet ingredients bowl to cream together as stated by the recipe. Jaskier goes about making his cake and mixing it up, carefully pouring it into the disposable cake tin they had bought specially for the event before putting it in the oven and carefully setting a timer on his phone.

He takes a break for a moment to make a cup of tea before cleaning up the mess from the cake and mixing up the simple drizzle icing for the cake.

The timer goes off and Jaskier pokes the cake with a toothpick as he has been directed, frowning at the lopsided cake. 

“Is that how it should look?” he mutters to himself, looking at the clean toothpick. “Guess it’s done.”

He pulls the cake out of the oven and  sets it on the rack to cool, poking little holes in it with the toothpick to help it cool and absorb some of the icing later.

After 30 minutes, he drizzles the icing over the cake, humming happily to himself. 

“Geralt, do you want to do cake now or later?” he calls into the living room. Geralt hmms and stands before replying, “Now.”

Jaskier grins and grabs them plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake with.

Geralt stands beside him at the counter, smiling softly at the cake Jaskier has made him. 

“Thanks Jask,” he says softly. 

Jaskier grins fully at him. “Happy birthday, Geralt!”

They cut into the cake and serve themselves. Geralt happily eats his, reaching out to get seconds while Jaskier frowns at his slice. “Does this taste right to you?” he takes another bite while Geralt shrugs.

“Tastes fine to me,” he replies, happy to continue eating what his Jaskier has made him. 

Jaskier frowns more and looks at his recipe, “I dunno, doesn’t it taste salty?” 

Geralt hmms in thought before continuing to eat, “Suppose so, but it’s not too bad.”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! No Geralt, stop eating that! I must have mixed up the salt and sugar when I was measuring, oh! It's terrible, I’m so sorry, Geralt,” he whines, looking almost at the verge of tears. 

This causes Geralt to pause his gremlin-like cake eating, setting the plate down before pulling his best friend into a tight hug, resting his head against the others. “So maybe you had a booboo with it and it’s a little salty. You know I’m not picky, and it tastes fine and vaguely like strawberries. I’ll eat it anyway, Jask.” he grumbles out.

Jaskier sniffles. “But you deserve a good cake that’s made correctly.”

Geralt hums, “Maybe, but this is something you’ve made for me with all your heart, and I think it tastes alright, and I will keep eating it, because you made it for me and that makes it taste all the sweeter.”

Jaskier sniffles again, squeezing the man in his arms tightly “Oh, you big softy! You don’t have to eat it.” 

“But I want to.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighs, nuzzling the broad chest he’s pressed against. “Love you”

Geralt smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskiers temple. “Love you too, you disaster.” 

Jaskier gasps and smacks his chest “You!”

Geralt laughs and grabs his cake before dragging Jaskier to the couch. “Come on, I demand my birthday cuddles.”

Jaskier puffs his cheeks but settles against Geralt on the couch, holding the controller for him “If this is my penance.”

5. Usually Jaskier did the laundry while Geralt did dishes. This was because Jaskier had many a delicate piece in his wardrobe and he did not trust Geralt to treat his clothes the right way if he were to do the laundry. Geralt didn’t care much either way who did the dishes and who did the laundry, as long as the chores ended up done in the end. This was how their kitchen, laundry nook, and part of their living room ended up absolutely covered in bubbles.

They had decided to switch up the chore rotation for the week because the dishes weren’t too bad and Jaskier hadn’t worn any of his ‘delicate’ pieces in the past week and a half, meaning there was nothing of his Geralt could mess up. The switching of chores had unforeseen consequences however, in that neither remembers exactly how to do the new chore, as they hadn’t had to in at least a year. Rather than ask the other for help, both Jaskier and Geralt decided to wing it and try their best. 

Jaskier stares down at Geralt, slav squatting, staring at the bubbles that were slowly invading their apartment via the laundry and kitchen. 

“So, I couldn’t remember which dish liquid was the one for the dishwasher and put the red one in, which was apparently the wrong choice…… What did you do to create the bubbles in the washer?” 

Geralt grunts. “That was the dawn dish soap that we hand wash the alcohol glasses with,” he sighs. “I may have put a full cup of laundry detergent in the washing machine”

Jaskier gasps “A full- Geralt! The entire cup!? That’s at least double the amount you’re supposed to use!” 

Geralt pouts. “I couldn’t remember how much,” he grumbles

“You could have asked me!”

This earns Jaskier a raised eyebrow and the stink eye.

“Fair enough,” he giggles. “We should have asked each other when we were confused.”

Geralt nods before standing. “Well I guess we should turn the appliances off before the bubbles get worse… wish me luck”

Jaskier nods and jokingly salutes him. “I’ll remember you dearly.”

Geralt chuckles and shakes his head before wading into the bubbles to stop the dishwasher and washing machine cycles.

A minute later he reappears, covered in bubbles from head to toe, looking like some sort of grumpy snowman. Jaskier laughs at him before Geralt smirks and captures him in a bear hug, causing the man to shriek. “Nooo! Geralt my clothes! Ackkkk!”

Geralt swings him, picking him up slightly. “I think if we let the bubbles settle we can clean up in a little, but we should change first.”

Jaskier pouts “The point of you doing it was so only one of us had to change.”

Geralt gives him a toothy grin, carrying him towards their bedrooms to change. “But you laughed at me, that demands retribution.”

Jaskier just sticks his tongue out at him before being set down in front of his room. “Wanna play Smash while we wait?”

Geralt grins, “What, wanna get wrecked that badly?” he winks to Jaskiers affronted gasp before going in his room to change.

guess I’ll add my tag list huh

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskiersvalley @jaskierswolf @dani-dandelino @wherethewordsare @softnerdypeter @thecomfortofoldstorries @dapandapod @lindianaj0nes @kuripon​ @elliestormfound @veritasrose

Hope y’all enjoyed it >///<

[annonymouslyblonde]

Where I Should Be

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Pairing: Percy x Annabeth

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: Set during Mark of Athena the night of the day they found Percy. What if the stable scene wasn't the first moment alone Percy and Annabeth had? While I love the stable scene, Annabeth just isn't patient enough to have waited that long to catch up with Percy. My take on an additional scene for MoA.

A/N: Everything follows canon for HOO other than the fact we don't have a consistent timeline on the amount of time Percy was missing. So bare with me. My headcannon is that for Percy, it was a few months (thanks to his Hera induced nap), but for Annabeth, he's been missing eight months now.

The slight creak of the door woke Percy. After four years of fighting monsters and Lupa's training, he had learned to sleep lightly. Before the door could close, Riptide was uncapped and at the intruder's throat.

A sharp gasp came shortly before the person hissed, "Percy, it's me!"

Annabeth. Of course, it was only Annabeth. Percy sheepishly lowered his sword. Nothing said "I've missed you the last eight months" like a sword to the throat. Then again, she had judo flipped him, hadn't she? Seemed fair enough.

"I thought you were a monster!" he whispered harshly in defense of his actions, but Annabeth leveled him with a signature glare.

"A monster quietly making it past Jason on guard and opening your bedroom door instead of exploding it?"

His cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Hearing it aloud especially from Annabeth did make it seem pretty ridiculous.

"I was half asleep, and stranger things have happened. Besides I wasn't exactly expecting anyone tonight."

Annabeth looked away from him distracted, half asleep herself. She was barefoot and clad in her favorite worn flannel pants and a camp half-blood sweatshirt of his that was definitely too big for her.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she admitted quietly. "I just- I shouldn't have come, it's stupid. Go back to bed, Percy." She started to turn for the door when he dropped his sword completely to reach for her.

"Hey, don't."

He turned her back to him. In the light of Riptide, tear tracts stood out on her cheeks, and her eyes were red, puffy, and glassy like she may cry again any second. He gently stroked her cheek.

"You've been crying," Percy noted. She wiped angrily at her eyes trying to remove the evidence.

"Nightmares again?" he asked gently. Percy was always gentle with her when nightmares plagued her. Being vulnerable didn't come easy to Annabeth, and he felt honored she would trust him enough to show her vulnerable side.

When she confirmed his suspicions with a nod, Percy collected her in his arms and felt her sigh with relief. He remembered how awful the nightmares had been before at camp and when she'd stay at the apartment, even taken a few elbows as she fought them when she fell asleep during their movie nights. And now? A shudder cut through him trying to imagine how awful they must have been when he vanished. For him, it had only been a few months, but Annabeth had been looking for him nearly a year now not knowing what she may find on the other end.

He pressed a long kiss to her hair and asked, "Which one this time?"

Percy was familiar with most of them by now. Her mother and father rejecting her, blankets turning into spiders, standing at his funeral shroud in hand with everyone telling her he was gone, him accepting the offer of immortality and leaving her alone. And now he had actually left her alone at camp for eight months. The thought made his stomach turn.

"Same one I've had the last few months," she mumbled into his chest. "Every worst-case scenario. You not remembering me, not wanting to leave Camp Jupiter. Or not finding you at Camp Jupiter at all, that you'd never been there and we were completely wrong. Or worse." He knew the "or worse". Her biggest fear used to be abandonment and rejection, but now it had become more than that. The worse was finding him already dead.

"When I woke up, I just- I didn't trust my own mind that we really had found you. That you were really here. I thought I'd finally snapped. Today was probably the best scenario I could have thought up, and you know how it is for half-bloods. Things never go right."

He tightened his hold and stroked her tangled curls, burying his face in her shoulder. "Today they did. Right enough at least. I'm here. I'm with you where I should be."

"I'm so sorry, Percy," she sobbed into his shirt. "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you. I failed you epically."

"No, you didn't." He gently extracted himself taking her face in his hands and made her look at him. "That was all Hera. You did everything you could. I know you did."

"I can't help but feel like that's my fault too. After all, it is Hera," she spat the name out with a much venom as gorgon's blood. Somehow her voice could do that. One side sweet and comforting, another as deadly as poison. "She had to take you. Part of me feels like she took you to get back at me."

Percy couldn't help the chuckle. "Oh, I've done my share of angering that psycho goddess."

The pair stood for a moment in an extended silence. It wasn't enough to alleviate her guilt and he knew it. So he continued.

"It had to be me I think. Any other half-blood getting to California and through the wolf House with no memories? Even if I didn't know about it, I had Achilles' curse protecting me until I got to camp Jupiter. It saved me more than a couple of times."

"Until? You mean-" Her voice trailed off as her fingers grazed the spot at his lower back that he'd confided in her was his only weak spot. His stomach flipped at the gentle touch of her fingers in a way that had nothing to do with the weak spot he previously had.

"I had to give it up to enter Camp Jupiter," he explained. The realization donned on her.

"So when I flipped you earlier-"

"Oh yeah felt every bit of that, thanks. Probably bruised my back along with my ego," he teased. A thunk sounded as she hit her head on the door.

"I'm an idiot," she groaned. "Of course you couldn't carry a Grecian curse into a Roman camp. I'm sorry, Percy. I never meant to hurt you." Her hands skimmed his back hoping she hadn't hurt him too badly.

"I know you didn't, babe." Her heart flipped at the affectionate term. He didn't use that one often, usually when they were alone, but it did strange things to her whenever he did call her babe. It still felt surreal occasionally that they were together in that way. The days of them arguing on the way to LA didn't seem so far in the past.

"You were angry and scared and had every right to be after I disappeared like that. Besides you've done more damage in sparing practice. I'm fine."

She didn't say anything, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him again assuring herself he was really there. Soon, he felt her breathing even out against his neck, and she slumped heavily into him starting to fall asleep again. When he shuffled them towards the bed, she stirred making the task more difficult.

"Come on," he whispered into her nest of golden curls, loving the way she burrowed into his arms. "Lay down with me."

"Can't," she mumbled sleepily. "I shouldn't even be here. I need to go before we get caught."

"I think we've earned this for one night at least. It's been too long since I could hold you." His arms tightened around her, adding to his point. "I'll even set an alarm so you can sneak back before anyone is up. Better yet, where's your hat?"

"Stopped working," she spat out bitterly. "Only gift mom ever gave me, and apparently she kept the receipts. I don't wanna talk about it."

That concerned him. If Athena was taking things from Annabeth, what did that mean for the rest of them with their parents? Percy made them promise to be better with their kids, and here they were a few months later going back on their promises. Typical.

"You and your mom aren't talking again?"

"No one is talking. Olympus has gone silent except for Hera apparently." Bitterness crept back into her voice as the hurt and worry of the last several months tightened in her chest again. Before her mind could go too dark, the ship pitched suddenly sending them tumbling into his bed and Percy into a fit of laughter.

"See even the ship is telling you to stay."

She snorted and settled against him as he pulled a blanket around them. If the Fates seemed to be telling her to stay, then who was she to argue. Curled into his side, she took a deep, comforting breath of the salty air that seemed to follow him. The smell of the ocean, the smell of him, always calmed her now. Automatically, Percy ran his fingers through her hair. Well as much as he could considering it was a knotted mess.

"Speaking of moms though, your mom and Paul are doing well. They've been worried about you, but they're good."

"You went to see them?"

Distractedly, she drew Greek letters across his chest needing to keep her hands busy. Curse half-blood ADHD. It was always worse when she didn't sleep well, but Percy didn't mind. The light touch of her fingers dancing across his chest focused him. All he could think of was her. The smell of her shampoo. Her warm breath as she spoke to him. The feel of her securely wrapped in his arms. He never wanted to forget this again.

"I wanted to keep them informed and see if they heard from you," she answered having finally ordered her thoughts enough. "I've been going at least once a week when I'm at camp. Your mom's kept me sane the last eight months."

"She's pretty great like that. I tried to call her. I don't know if it helped or made things worse. I didn't really explain too well."

"It helped," she assured him with a squeeze. "She managed to forward it to me, and we must have spent an hour on the phone together listening to it. It was good just to hear your voice. And speaking of, you should call her in the morning. The camouflage on the ship will make it safe for a phone call."

"She's going to kill me when I get home," he groaned. Annabeth laughed into his chest. It was the best feeling in the world to hear that laugh again.

"Probably so, then she's going to hug you for a month straight. She wanted me to tell you she loves you and misses you. She never doubted I'd find you."

When Annabeth first came to tell Mr. and Mrs. Jackson-Blofis about Percy's disappearance, she made sure Sally knew she would do whatever it took to bring him home. The older woman merely nodded and smiled at the younger girl.

"Of course you will, dear. I have every faith in you." And she hugged her. Sally never once doubted Annabeth's ability. And later as Annabeth worried over the quest from her mom, it was Sally that held her hand reassuringly and told her everything would be alright. In the past eight months, Sally Jackson had become a rock to Annabeth, and she would never be able to thank the woman enough for that. The woman never doubted that she'd find the most important thing in both their lives.

"And she shouldn't have." Percy interrupted her thoughts, answering both her words and internal musings. "Because you are amazing."

Looking down at the girl curled against him, Percy couldn't help but finally feel at home. Emotions overwhelmed him fighting for dominance. Pride in her. Anger for being snatched away. Fear that it would happen again. Happiness to have her in his arms again. But one feeling was more powerful than the rest, and he needed to make sure she knew before anything else could happen.

"And I love you, Annabeth Chase."

She propped up on her elbows, staring at him dumbfounded. A long quiet moment passed before Percy broke the silence with a nervous laugh.

"Oh that's so sweet," he mimicked in a high voice. "But you know I'm not sure I feel that-"

She shut him up with a kiss. By now, they had kissed lots of times. There was Mt. St. Helen when she had surprised him with a kiss. Or the time they came back to camp high on the victory of defeating Kronos when they had kissed by the lake. And of course, the best underwater kiss ever which had become every underwater kiss since. But every time she kissed him, it made his stomach flip just like it was the first time all over again. When they finally parted, she leaned her forehead against his with a satisfied smirk.

"Of course I love you, seaweed brain. Think I'd have gone searching for eight months if I didn't?"

"I'd do it for you," he vowed, wrapping a ringlet around his finger. "I'd do anything for you."

"You're proving my point for me."

She smirked at him, and he took the moment to truly study her face. She was beautiful as always, but the deep, puffy rings under her eyes had definitely not been there before. Her cheekbones stood out sharper and he realized when he held her, she was thinner, gaunt even. He could feel each of her vertebrae when he ran his hand down her back. Her face was noticeably paler as well, and her hair lacked its normal shiny, glow. Overall, she pretty much looked like death warmed over. He traced the purple skin under her eyes.

"Gods, Annabeth, when's the last time you slept?"

She rolled her eyes at him. The first time he told her he loved her followed up with how tired she looked. Leave it to Percy Jackson to ruin a beautiful moment.

"Always the charmer, aren't you?"

"I mean it." The laugh in her throat died with his serious tone. Percy was seldom serious. "When's the last time you actually slept a full eight hours? And you haven't been eating well, I can tell. I know how you get when you stress."

Annabeth settled against his shoulder again, not able to bear the concern on his face. No, she hadn't taken great care of herself lately, and she didn't need Percy to remind her of that. Sally did enough of that commenting on the increasingly dark circles under her eyes, always insisting she stay for dinner, that she was getting too thin.

"I couldn't," she finally admitted in a small voice. It seemed pathetic to her now that she hadn't been able to take care of herself, but she lacked the will to without Percy. All of her focus has been on finding him.

"I had to find you. When I did sleep, I snuck into your cabin or fell asleep in your bed at the apartment." She paused waiting for his reaction. Would he be angry she snuck in there? Would he not like her sleeping in his beds while he'd been missing? But Percy just tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her head. She released the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. It amazed her sometimes how Percy always seemed to know exactly what she needed.

"Being in there where it smelled like you, it was the only way I could actually get some sleep. Chiron had to know, but no one ever said anything."

Tears collected in her eyes, and she turned her face into his chest trying to stop them. Percy was the only person she ever let see her like this, weak and emotional. The only time she let herself break was in the seclusion of the Posidon cabin curled around his pillow.

"I missed you," she whispered hoarsely.

"I missed you too. The whole time, all I could think about was getting back to you. You kept me going, kept me alive."

"You mean you remembered me the whole time?" she asked incredulously. How could she have been the one thing he remembered? When Jason showed up, he hadn't remembered anything. It didn't make sense to her that Percy would remember anything, much less her.

"Yeah. Whether she meant to or not, you were the only thing Hera didn't take from me. The second I woke up, I didn't know my name, but I knew yours and knew I had to get back to you no matter what. More things came. The quests and all. That kiss under the lake. But it always came back to you. You're ingrained into who I am now, Annabeth. You were the reason I kept going because I knew I had to get back to you."

She leaned up pressing her lips to his again, tracing every inch of his face trying to memorize it. The kiss spoke everything they had struggled to say to each other. Her euphoric relief seeing him alive and well. His hope for a future with her in New Rome. The deep connection that had tied them together since they were twelve. Everything.

"I love you, Percy Jackson," she breathed against his lips, pouring every emotion she felt for him into the words. He grinned that lopsided smile she adored so much.

"I love you too, wise girl."

[papermonkeyism]

Why is making phone calls so hard for my brainnnn

After few days of psyching myself up, I finally called to maybe restart the official ADHD diagnosis process again, after it got halted by another wave of the plague (sigh). And now they want me to retake the blood test I already did last time (which, I guess fair, it's been over half a year) but we did agree on a schedule of getting the test > getting results > proceeding.

Except I can't find open times for the blood test on the app I need to reserve the time, so now I need to call AGAIN, to either ask for a test time manually, or reschedule the already agreed process. Or both.

Hnerghh

I just really wish phone calls weren't such a big deal to me, but having hearing damage combined with audio processing problems PLUS having to make the call during work day (because of their opening hours. I cannot escape the noices of the warehouse that risk drowning the phone out. I! Do not! Like! Not to mention talking to strangers I can't see stresses me out)

Whine.

[theladyscarlettt]

Forgotten Figures (pt. 5)

This part is longer than the other parts, I apologize to all my fellow ADD/ADHD readers. However, the length was needed for the plot and character arcs (specifically a certain elf.) I really hope you all like it and keep a look out for the Easter Egg I left for you. ~The Lady Scarlettt

Link to Forgotten Figures (pt. 4)

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*Warning: a suggestive scene, mild language

---

She paced the chamber floor, the words of Thranduil plaguing her thoughts. She looked at the chair in which he occupied the evening before, rage consuming her. She sucked in her breath to hold back a cry, walked over to the chair and slung it across the room. The chair slammed into her night stand, causing the daggers to fall to the ground. She knelt down to pick one up, her eyes beginning to sting. She turned the smooth blade in her clammy hands, and thought of what she would say to him. 

She could tell him about his father’s visit, but it would spark a very, unwanted conflict. She even tossed around the idea of fleeing the kingdom, but that was a foolish, cowardly and selfish notion. While her love for the prince was enough, she could not deny the unsettling burden that came with the idea of leaving. Mirkwood was her home. She was raised here, Tauriel was here, and as much as her present circumstances caused her great peril, her loyalty was to the crown, for she has known nothing else.

She simply was a creature with a title that held no knowledge of the true cruelty, sorrow and inequity the world held. As she sat dazed by the colors of the white gemmed speckled daggers, she understood the days of fantasizing and dreaming were no more. Her childhood, through the night, had abandoned her and left her with nothing but hope, the most dangerous of all emotions.

Her decision came to her, and so did a knock at the door.

She jumped slightly, gripping the dagger in her hand. She wiped her eyes and frantically stood trying to find somewhere to conceal the white gem handled daggers. 

“One moment!” she called, finding the wooden box they were gifted in. She placed the dagger inside, hesitated, then locked it.

She approached the door trying to calm her breathing, as she slowly opened the door, she saw a worried Tauriel. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Y/N,” she smiled warmly, “Are you alright? I heard you were not feeling well, is there anything I can do?” 

Y/N forced a congested cough, “I will be alright tomorrow, thank you for your concern.” 

Tauriel looked past her into the disheveled room, than back to Y/N, “Are you sure, you’re alright?” not waiting for an answer she walked past her into the room.

“I- ugh.” Y/N groaned, closing the door. 

Tauriel inspected the room and began to pick up clothing, books and bottles. 

“Tauriel,” Y/N groaned, “I’m alright really, you do not have to clean for me.” 

Tauriel, ignoring her picked up the wooden box on the bed. “I’ve never seen this before, it’s beautiful.” She turned to Y/N. “What’s in it?” She asked, turning it in her hands.

“Nothing, just some old letters from... my parents.” Y/N lied.

Tauriel smiled sadly and laid the box down, “Is that what it is? I can’t believe its been so long ago.”

Y/N paused, in all the chaos she had forgotten it was the anniversary of her parents passing. She slumped and sat on the other end of the bed.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to barge in, I just needed to know you were alright. Two guards were found unconscious last night outside the West Wing.” Tauriel said, trying to change the topic. 

Y/N perked up, “The West Wing? Why that’s where the royal vault is. Who would do such a thing?”

“I am uncertain, but the King is investigating everyone on their whereabouts last night.” She said.

“Was something stolen?” Y/N questioned.

“I’m not sure but someone from one of the units said a few of the White Gems of Lasgalen were missing. I’m sure it was merely a superstition for we all know the lengths the King will go to for those pieces of rock.” She laughed.

Y/N suddenly felt ill at the coincidence of timing, she looked to the box by Tauriel.

Tauriel turned to face Y/N, “Y/N! Why you look faint.” She moved closer to her friend, “Are you sure I can not fetch you some water or-”

“Tauriel,” Y/N whispered, “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Yes, anything.” She said with concerned eyes.

“I want you to take that box, go to the woods and bury it, but do not tell me where.” She whispered.

Tauriel looked from Y/N to the box with suspicion, “Are those not your last ties to your family?”

“I know I must move on,” Y/N said desperately “but I do not know I have the strength to do so. Please, rid me of its sight, that’s all I ask of you.” 

Tauriel looked to her friend, then to the box. While there were no words spoken, there were none needed, for some reason or another, she understood.

“Y/N you are like a sister to me, and I trust you more than life its self.” She grabbed the box, “I only hope you trust me the same.”

Y/N looked to Tauriel, tears in her eyes, “I do. I promise to you-”

“Do not make promises you can not keep.” Tauriel said and stood, “I will do as you have said, all I ask is, in time, for your truth. Until then, I will wait for you.” She left, closing the door softly behind her.

---

Y/N lay asleep in her bed, when the window opened from outside. The prince stuck his head in and was alarmed by the disarray of the room. When he spotted her amongst the mess, he stepped in, quietly closing the window behind him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, creeping over to her bed. 

She turned in her sleep, a soft moan escaping her lips.

He smiled sweetly at her resting face. It never ceased to amaze him how she always seemed so graceful, even in her slumber. He sat softly on the bed, and placed a hand on her arm. “Y/N,” he whispered again.

Her eyes shot open but before he could react, she grabbed his wrist twisting it behind his back and latched her arm around his neck, pulling his body to her.

“It’s me- It’s agh,” he gagged, “It’s me!”

Her eyes widened in embarrassment, “Legolas! Forgive me, I thought- I thought you were someone else.” She released him and her eyes frantically searched the room.

“Hey, Hey.” He hushed, grabbing her shoulder, “Are you alright? I should be the one frightened, not you.” he laughed.

She looked to him, her breathing slowing. “I’m sorry” she said placing a hand over her chest.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” he sang, pulling her into him, “Are you alright?”

“I do not know,” she said her eyes checking the room again.

He pulled back, with a worried expression, “Has something happened? Tauriel told me you were ill.”

She almost scoffed but caught herself, “I’m alright, truly. I just ate something sour I suppose. Tauriel? Did you prompt her?”

“Why no,” Legolas chuckled, “Father and I were coming back through the forest from the river, when I spotted Tauriel alone in the woods. She looked tired, so I offered her my horse, that’s when she told me she was out looking for Athelas, for your fever.” He placed a hand on her check, “Seems they worked.” he smiled.

“So, she did do it” Y/N mumbled, feeling guilty for questioning her friend’s loyalty.

“Do what?” he questioned.

“You never miss a beat do you?” she teased.

“Never.” he grinned, leaning back against the headboard, realizing she was hiding something.

Thranduil’s words echoed in the back of her mind as she stared at Legolas. The dreadful hope she so clung to, quarreled with the reality she now faced. She could no longer look him in the eyes. 

Legolas felt something was severely wrong but he was not sure what. He looked around her room at the piled clothing, opened books and overturned furniture. He sighed, “I wish you would tell me what is the matter. I feel as if I am to do with it.” he reached out to test her and she jerked away. “So, it is.”

“I can not do this anymore, Legolas.” she blurted out.

He blinked, “What do you mean?” he asked, even though he knew what she implied.

She stood, biting her finger, as she did when she was nervous or in deep thought, “This. Us. I can not continue to see you.” her voice cracked.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, “and why not?”

“You said it yourself, we can no longer sneak around for the rest of our lives. We were never meant to be together and deep down you know it, practically everything is against it.” With every word she spoke, her heart began to break

“What has prompted such speech from you?” Legolas questioned, with a bitter tone. “Was it not two evenings ago you said-”

“I know what I said, damn you.” She spat. “But I also know that we are fools to think we have the privilege to enjoy such pleasures. We do not have that freedom. You are the prince, you are the heir to the throne-”

“To hell with the throne,” He stood, the light in his eyes now gone, “To hell with the titles! You know, I care nothing for it or the riches it holds. It is not and has never been the life I wanted, I was merely born into it by chance.”

“Then why don’t you just walk away, if you fucking hate it so much.” she yelled, shocked by her new found anger.

He looked at her, like she were a fool, “because I can’t.”

“and why not?” she asked, trying to maintain the act but there was little to no confidence in her attempts.

“My father, would never allow his only son to leave, you have no idea who he truly is or what he is capable of.” His eyes fell.

“Legolas,” she breathed. She looked to the ceiling to keep the tears from streaming down her face. She could not do go through with it. “Legolas, I’m sorry, I did not mean any of what I said. I didn’t know what to do. I was just frightened because your father, he-”

“Will not accept us, I know.” he said flatly, not meeting her eyes. 

“No, no, Legolas, he came-” She tried to reach for the words to fix the situation.

“If he does not, I will leave.” he said.

Her eyes widened, “What? No. Legolas you can not leave. Not over this, not over me, that’s so foolish of you.”

He turned to face her, “Then let me be a fool.” He approached her, “I rather live my life with meaning, then live it meaningless. For you, I would do it.”

“Legolas, one does not simply walk away from such duties,” she rejected him by backing away. This was the worse possible scenario she hoped would not happen. The heir, abandoning the realm. The chaos that could unfold at the news of an open throne with no one acting as it’s rightful successor. Wars would unfold. Wars because of her.

She felt her back press against a wall. She looked into his ocean eyes, the moon light was perfectly illuminating his silver, starlight hair. She felt many things in that moment, many things one could not help to feel after someone professed their love in such a way. “Legolas,” she pleaded, “Please, do not make this mistake, on my behalf. I forbid it.”

He looked down at her, and shook his head, “I’m willing to accept the costs of my errors, if they are so much as that.”

She could not tell if it were guilt or lust that made her give in to him but she did.

He knew she withheld something more from him, something important. He could not help, but wonder if his father had threatened her. However, he knew in her present state of manic, she would not speak, unless, she felt she could trust his actions. While her mind was far more intelligent than his, the desires of the flesh, unfortunately would have their way, in her vulnerable state. He felt shameful as his mind tossed around the one thing that would obtain him this information.

“Forgive me,” he said, his breath hot and dripping with shame.

So, he seduced her.

She felt his lips press against her’s as his hands ran down to find the curve of her back. His lips were soft, and his taste was sweet. She found herself, unconsciously, kissing him back harder each time. He smiled through her kisses, and eagerly tugged at her lip with his teeth. She moved her hands up to his tunic’s collar, pulling him towards her. To balance himself, he placed his hand up against the wall, and with the other, slipped his hand down to her thigh, pulling it up. She leaned against the wall as he kissed her passionately, his tongue familiarizing itself with its surroundings.

All of the fear and anger that had seemed so prominent before, slowly seemed more foreign to her with each passing second. She had never felt so timid, yet so daring in her life.

She reached up, gathering his hair between her fingers and pulled his head to the side to reveal his strong, veined neck. She placed light kisses alongside his jaw line and then began to mark it. She barely heard the moan, escape his lips as he leaned against her. Before she could finish, he impatiently patted her thigh, to which she jumped lightly and he picked her up, shoving her back against wall, to begin leaving a trail of kisses along her collar bone. Her eyes fluttered as she dug her nails into his back. 

He suddenly set her down, to which she looked to him disappointed, but he had a smug look on his red face. He quickly bent down, grabbing her behind the knees and slung her over his shoulder. She could not hold back the laughter that radiated throughout the chamber. He spun her around once, for good measure before flipping her onto the bed. She began to laugh that sweet laugh he loved but he placed a finger over her slightly swollen lips. 

“Shh,” he hushed, “Secret Scandal, remember?’ 

She rolled her eyes and playfully slapped him. 

He then grew serious, guilt stopping him, “Are you sure? We can always wait a while longer.”

She smiled up at him, her fingers tracing the gorgeous, ethereal features of his face. “Promise me,” she looked down, “No matter what happens, you will not forsake me.”

He looked at her, not knowing it then, but the lie in which he would tell, would haunt him for the rest of his life, “I would never do anything to harm you. You have my word.”

She looked up to him, stroking his face lovingly, feeling safe within his presence, “Then, yes, I’m sure.” Her breath danced with his as he kissed her, this time, somehow, even more sweetly.

---

“You see Gimli,” she said, “It’s funny how people lie when they are afraid.”

Link to Forgotten Figures (pt. 6)

[citrineghost]

On ADHD, Being Dramatic, and Being Lazy

Gather round everyone. It’s time for our every-few-monthsly post on ADHD by your local ADHD ghost. In this episode, we’re talking about ADHD and how it relates to “being dramatic” and “being lazy.”

On Being Dramatic

No doubt a lot of you have been told you’re being dramatic over the years. I know I have. There are a lot of reasons one might be dramatic, but they’re rarely about the drama.

If I’m to guess the origin of the word dramatic, I’d guess it probably has something to do with over exaggerating your response for the drama. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of people being dramatic - on tiktok and vine, on youtube... drama calls for dramaticism.

Do you want to know what isn’t dramatic? Genuine reactions. That’s right - genuine reactions, inherently, cannot be categorized as dramatic or hyperbolic. There is nothing about them that is being overdone with the intention of getting attention or entertaining other people. So, let’s talk a bit about how this conflation has hurt us as a community.

Growing up, everything I did was “dramatic.” Crying because I didn’t want to do more chores was dramatic. Having a panic attack because there was a spider in the room was dramatic. Freaking out because I needed people to stop touching me was dramatic. Getting angry when my mother made jokes about my sex life as a teen was dramatic (and apparently abusive, but that’s neither here nor there). Nothing I did that involved a noteworthy amount of emotion was anything, if not dramatic.

On Being Lazy

I know a lot of you have also been labeled as lazy over the years. “Lazy” is the diagnosis everyone loves to give to those who don’t do enough, in their eyes. If you “could have” done something and then “chose not to,” you’re lazy... right?

Growing up, I was lazy too. I was lazy for avoiding housework. I was lazy for not wanting to brush my teeth. I was lazy because I didn’t turn in my homework. I was lazy for staying in bed, on my computer, most of the day.

If I’d only just “applied myself,” or if I would just “put in the work,” then I would be respectable to the people around me. But, because I wasn’t “willing” to put in the time and effort, I was lazy.

Why Is Emotion Dramatic?

The short answer is: it’s not. The real question is, why do people seem to perceive emotion as being dramatic? These are real emotions, after all - real and genuine feelings that are being dismissed as playacting. There are a number of reasons.

Why Are We Lazy?

Again, the short answer is: most people aren’t. The question here is, why do people see others not doing something and assume it’s because they simply don’t want to put in the work? Why do they not seek out an explanation or consider other alternatives? There are a number of reasons for that too.

The Answer...

Editing to put a Read More here because it’s very long

(TW for each of these sections in their name)

1. Sexism

At its core, seeing emotional outbursts or responses as dramatic is inherently rooted in sexism. Whether you’re a boy or a girl, man or woman, if your emotions are being mocked, it’s almost definitely because of our world’s history of sexism and relating emotion to women, who are “illogical” and “just want attention.”

And “real men” work! They work hard! They work long hours! They put themselves into an early grave, with pride, by never sitting down to rest! For this very reason, women, housewives of decades past, were expected, after a long day of doing housework and caring for the children - things that are just as exhausting as a full time job - to dote on their husbands who had just returned from work expecting a hot meal and a beer to be ready for them. Her work is devalued. It wasn’t grueling or tiring or important. It was just “women’s work.” A wife who does all of the housework and child rearing and fails to provide a hot meal and a warm body to her husband is “lazy.”

This is further shown to affect men as well. We can see, as early as non-manual labor-based jobs existed, the men who took them were lesser. Men who work at computers are seen as nerds and geeks - weak. Men who work in universities, coming up with new solutions to our medical needs and discovering the mathematics we need for space travel and advanced technology - they’re weak too. They’re unimportant to society because they’re not willing to get their hands dirty. Those men who prefer artistry are called gay and seen as disposable. It is irrelevant to the conservative man that his artistic counterpart designs everything that fills his home and office - that without artists we would have nothing.

2. Racism and classism

You might be surprised, but racism and classism both have their hands in this as well. I’m talking full on systemic oppression. The ability for people in power to look down on those they see as beneath them for being emotional or passionate about a topic or incident is all about power. You can see a million examples of this today. POC are called dramatic or are implied to be blowing things out of proportion by conservative white people because they want equal rights and feel they’re being treated unfairly. Their emotions are dismissed as irrational and dramatic. 

The cries of the poor, whether white or of color, are mocked. They have no reason to be having the emotions they’re having because they wouldn’t be in the position they’re in if they weren’t “lazy.” After all, only lazy people don’t have money. Only lazy people can’t get work. If they had just “applied themselves,” they would have an income, a home, and ample food on the table.

3. Ableism

And, last but not least, we have ableism. The neurotypical and abled people of the world, at large, cannot understand the experiences of the disabled, both emotionally(those with mental illnesses, disorders, and so on(whether or not certain disorders can be categorized as a disability in a just society is another topic entirely, but they are regarded that way, generally)) and physically.

If you have sensory overload, you are being irrational. It doesn’t matter to a NT if this is caused by an actually chemically different response in your brain. It doesn’t matter if it’s Real To You. To them, it doesn’t make sense, and so you deserve no compassion for your experience. Your emotional response is dramatic.

If you have executive dysfunction, you are simply choosing not to do your work. It doesn’t matter that there is an actual reason, buried in you somewhere, for why you have become Stuck. It doesn’t matter if you feel crippled by this aspect of your life. They see that you have neglected to do something they deem easy. Therefore, you are “lazy.”

ADHD and Being Dramatic

For those of us with ADHD, being called dramatic is a very familiar experience. After a while, we begin to internalize it. We must be dramatic, right? After all, so many different people have told us we are - and for good reason. We do tend to get overly emotional.

So the question is, why? Why do we get overly emotional? Why are our emotions so much different than those of our NT peers?

1. Lack of Emotional Regulation

A big part of ADHD, which is not yet a diagnostic criteria, is our emotional disregulation. ADHD, inherently, comes with some amount of disregulation in our emotions. We have a hard time controlling the emotions that we feel and managing the intensity of them. They may come across as overly intense, or they may seem subdued, both for reasons we can’t possibly figure out as individuals. This disregulation is entirely out of our control, happening at a neurological level. Our brain chemicals don’t work as they should. But, no matter how unregulated our emotions are, they are still real. We do still feel them, exactly as intensely as we think we do. Disregulated does not mean made up.

2. RSD

If you knew about RSD before, or you’ve read my last post on ADHD (under my tag adhdghost), which has gained some popularity, you already know what this means. For those who don’t, RSD is short for Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. This condition plagues something like 99.9% of people with ADHD (while not being ADHD exclusive.) It comes with the lack of emotional regulation and means we have a reaction, that seems out of proportion (or “dramatic”), relative to the thing that caused it.

In short, RSD episodes can look like an entire breakdown, a very sudden loss of any self esteem or confidence, the feeling that you are certain someone now hates you or has secretly always hated you, and/or an immediate need to get rid of the thing that caused it. These episodes are caused by any kind of perceived failure or disappointment. They can be caused by someone whose opinion or relationship we value who gives us a slightly judgmental look, someone saying they don’t understand why we like the thing we’re interested in, or even not living up to our own expectations. These episodes frequently lead to emotional outburts, episodes, breakdowns, and tears. Naturally, all of this is “dramatic,” despite it being very real and painful for those experiencing it.

3. Combination with Other Things

Emotional disregulation can interact with other parts of our lives as well. For instance, I have a lot of phobias. My reactions to seeing or being around the things that terrify me can be even more intense than how most people react to their phobias. They can cause anxiety attacks, emotional breakdowns, and lasting fear for hours or days after. My recovery from these instances is hindered by my inability to regulate the feelings they caused.

Emotional disregulation can also interact with triggers, trauma, sensory problems, etc.

ADHD and Being Lazy

And of course, if you struggle with ADHD, you want to know, “Why am I so lazy?” The answer is: you’re not! Laziness is a made up word. Laziness was created to pass blame onto people who struggle to do things that more typical people can accomplish with ease.

So, what is the reason we struggle to do these seemingly simple tasks?

1. Executive Dysfunction

This is The Big One. Of all the things that can cause an inability to do things, executive dysfunction is the Achilles heel of ADHD. Because ADHD causes a difficulty with prioritizing, rewarding actions with no immediate reward, and creating a list of steps for us to take (something that comes naturally to NT people), we sometimes get “Stuck.”

This feeling of being stuck may look like us just having fun and avoiding our responsibilities. You may be Stuck right now, scrolling through tumblr mechanically even though you’ve been needing to pee for three hours. Naturally, you’ve been wanting to go to the bathroom... you just don’t know how.

To a NT, this sounds ridiculous. “Just get up and go?!” I’m sure you can imagine your parents saying, when they simply don’t understand. The truth is, tumblr can be a nightmare for executive function. It endlessly scrolls, giving you post after post. There’s no natural stopping point. You keep an eye out for a natural end to this activity, but it’s hard to find the right post to stop on. If you find those, “This is your sign to go to bed,” posts helpful - otherwise locked into the activity of scrolling regardless of whether you want to - you might be struggling with executive dysfunction.

This inability to “queue” our actions or prioritize what we need to do, and in what order, can wreak all kinds of havoc in our lives. You remember you didn’t really understand that equation the math teacher explained earlier. You know today’s homework is related to its use. Therefore, you cannot start your homework. There are a number of possible solutions floating around your head. Maybe the book will explain it better. Maybe your parents know how to do this and you could ask them. Maybe you could Google it. It’s possible the homework is about something else. But, if it is, what if you don’t understand that? Maybe you should ask your teacher before class?

Even though you have all of these solutions in your head, because you don’t know which solution is the best solution, you find yourself unable to do any of them. You show up to class with no homework and your teacher gives you a disappointed look. “I don’t understand why you don’t just apply yourself more. You’re a very smart student.” The remark brings you to holding back tears, because you want, with every fiber of your being, to apply yourself and make your teacher proud, but you simply don’t know how.

This is the destructive nature of executive dysfunction, and it is not something to be taken lightly.

2. Distraction

For those with ADHD, the inability to regulate external stimuli makes focusing incredibly hard. You wake up one morning and plan to start that English paper after breakfast. You go to get yourself some cereal. You’re out of milk. You decide to make toast instead. You burn your toast because you lost track of time for just 30 seconds. You go to throw it away, feeling an overwhelming amount of guilt over the two pieces of bread you wasted. The trash is overflowing. You decide to take it outside. It’s a really nice day out. Maybe you should take your dog for a walk. You haven’t taken her on a walk in a while and you’re just now feeling motivated to, so you should take advantage of that. You go to retrieve your dog and take her for a walk. When you bring her back in, you go to get her treats from the shelf in the laundry room. Oh yeah, you’d been meaning to do laundry. You go to get your laundry hamper from your room and notice there’s a bunch of laundry on the floor. You begin picking up the laundry from the floor. You may as well tidy up the other things on the floor as well. You finally get around to taking your laundry to the washer. You’re out of soap. Maybe you ought to make a run to the grocery store. You take ten minutes to find your keys and wallet and then head out to the grocery store. When you get there, you’ve forgotten what it was you needed. “Oh, right! I’m out of milk!” You go and retrieve milk. When you get to the checkout and the cashier rings you up, you suddenly remember you need laundry soap. Well, it’s too late now. You’ll have to do laundry tomorrow. You can’t risk the cashier giving you a tired look by asking them to wait. You go home and make some cereal. You can’t really write while you eat, so you open tumblr. you scroll through tumblr for a while. Your cereal gets soggy, you notice, disappointed. You see a tumblr post reminding you that you forgot to order something important online that you need to get here as soon as possible. The day continues in this way until you finally realize at 5pm that you never started your paper. “It’s so late now... I’ll just start it tomorrow morning,” you tell yourself. Rinse and repeat.

If you relate to this, you might want to consider researching ADHD a bit, because this is a very typical ADHD experience.

3. Hyperfixation and Hyperfocus

The last prominent reason why people with ADHD are seen as lazy has to do with a cycle in hyperfixation and hyperfocus.

If you don’t already know, hyperfixations are those interests you have that fill you with an overwhelming love and which take up an incredible amount of your time, energy, and brain space. These could be fandoms, hobbies, characters, games, or otherwise.

Hyperfocus, on the other hand, can be related to hyperfixations or things that aren’t hyperfixations. Hyperfocus is when you get “locked in” on a task and can’t seem to put it down. If you started this post not knowing how long it was and find yourself still raptly reading, completely ignoring the world around you, you may have hyperfocused on it. If you ever start cleaning and just can’t stop until the whole house is clean, despite your lack of regularly cleaning for over a month, you are hyperfocusing on cleaning. If you write a 20k word fic in one night, you are hyperfocusing.

Hyperfocusing can leave you completely unaware of the world around you, causing you to neglect your own basic needs, such as food, bathroom breaks, water, and social interaction. 

Because people with ADHD are able to occasionally apply themselves to such an extreme degree, NT people don’t understand why ADHD people are unable to apply themselves to other things as well. The reason we can’t is because we do not regulate our hyperfocus. Hyperfocus comes from tasks that are giving us serotonin, to make up for our brains inability to give serotonin in the way it should - in the way NT brains do. Emptying the dishwasher just felt really good. The next thing you know, you’re filling it with more dishes and wiping off counters and sweeping the floor and, “oh god, it looks so nice what if I just-” and then you move on to the laundry and the living room and the bedroom and then somehow 6 hours have passed. You don’t know how it happened, but now your house is clean and you feel amazing... but also tired and hungry. So you go make some food and then pass out on the couch.

So, when NT people see this kind of laser focus, they demand to know why you couldn’t do that simple math assignment, or why you haven’t been returning their texts, or why you couldn’t apply the same level of energy and enthusiasm on that really boring geography project. They demand to know why you’re so “lazy” the rest of the time.

There’s also the element of hyperfixation. It is the ultimate distraction. Your parents tell you to do the dishes and you say you will. Suddenly, you’ve found a fanfiction about your hyperfixation and you can’t stop reading it. It’s 60k words long and it will take you all day, but you’ll find a break to do your chores somewhere in there, right?

Your mom is suddenly knocking on your door what feels like 5 minutes later, but it’s been an hour. She wants to know why you didn’t do the dishes yet. You’re upset at yourself, but you lash out at her, because you’re unable to regulate your emotions. “I’ll do it in a minute!” you say loudly from behind your door. She walks off, irritated. You ask yourself why you can’t just do it now. Why does it feel impossible to tear yourself away? Your hyperfixation is the ultimate creator of hyperfocus. It rules you.

Before you know it, it’s midnight. You’ve finished the fic. It was amazing. You realize with dread that you still haven’t done the dishes, so you sneak out to the kitchen, hoping your parents have gone to bed. They have, but you find the dishes have already been done by someone else. Suddenly, you’re holding back tears from the RSD episode this has triggered. You ruined everything. You disappointed your parents. You’re a lazy and terrible child and they deserve better.

The truth is, you’re none of those things. In fact, you’re struggling with one of the most difficult mental blocks someone can have. But to others, you’re just making excuses. To others, you should have been able to just do the dishes and then go back to reading. But you know it’s not that easy. But why?

It’s ADHD, Babey!

If this post is hitting hard in a way that feels like your life is being splayed out before you, you might just have ADHD.

The fact is you are not dramatic and you are not lazy. You are struggling with a lot of ADHD symptoms that are making functioning in a neurotypical world incredibly difficult. This world was designed by and for NT people. Your worth is not based in how you live up to their expectations.

If you think you might have ADHD, it might be time to ask your doctor about getting an ADHD evaluation. Please check out my last post (the one i mentioned is under my tag adhdghost) to get more information on RSD and on getting evaluated.

An Important Note

Many experiences and struggles caused by ADHD are also present in other disorders. For example, RSD can be seen frequently in autism as well as in anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Sensory overload, emotional disregulation, executive dysfunction, and so on, can all be present in things other than ADHD. If you want to know if you fit the criteria for ADHD, go check out the criteria on the ADDitude website, which is a great source for ADHD related information.

[closertotheheartofthesunrise]

happy alyx day!!!!

i seem to perpetually have a lot going on so no special art for today unfortunately. :(  but here’s some renders I did in Maya the other day after I ripped her model - plus some smaller versions screencapped straight from the render viewport bc plain old “export render” didn’t export her hair materials as dark as they appeared. idk what’s up with that exactly...needs some more work.

Anyway.....LOTS of thoughts about bideo game under the cut

HI THANKS FOR CLICKING THROUGH??? TLDR I LIKE HALF LIFE A LOT AND I ALWAYS HAVE FOR SOME REASON. AND NOW IT’S BACK AND I STILL LIKE IT

It’s now one year to the day that I, watching a Discord channel full of Valve Index owners struggling to decompress their preloaded games, finally acknowledged that I was not going to be playing Half-Life Alyx on launch day. I was sitting at my little workstation at my family’s dining room table, steadfastly blocking out the homework I had to do, thinking unhappily of my Vive in its box on the floor in my school apartment. I had no computer with which to run a game as demanding as HLA, and no comfort but Kelly Bailey’s CSGO music pack, and a friend who was going to stream the game later. I deserved this, I thought. I deserved this more than any of you.

I have no way of knowing if I did or not. I was feeling pretty helpless at the time. My family’s kitchen table was not where I was supposed to be. It haunts me as I recall it – alone with my headphones and my laptop, sealed off, surrounded by a family struggling just as hard to adapt to a new kind of world. We were all packed in together, the specter of The Plague newly looming. I wanted so badly to escape – even a vacation to City 17 would have been a sweet relief. The Quarantine Zone – ha! Alyx didn’t know the half of it.

I joke that the reason I like Half-Life so much is because I played it too young and imprinted on it, like a baby bird. There’s truth at the bottom of that joke – I was deep enough in the Orange Box fanclub that I spent an entire year anxious for the release of Portal 2 after its announcement. In 2011 I was 12, so if memory serves, I had played Half Life 2 and its episodes before I was 11 years old. Too young? Maybe. I seem to have come out ok, but I wish I could play every game in the Orange Box for the first time with the experience and life context of who I am today. There are things you are less likely to understand or identify with when you’re a kid, and I’ll never get to experience Portal or Half Life 2 for the first time with that understanding.

That being said, I loved the games anyway. I directed the kind of fanaticism towards the games that only a child with unsupervised internet access, no responsibilities, and what likely should be an ADHD diagnosis can muster. I printed out a picture of GLaDOS and carried it around in my pocket, a budding artist’s reference photo. I vibrated in place every time I saw a crowbar. I drew lambdas on things. I had an ipod shuffle that I listened to in the car on the way to school – I loaded it with every Half-Life song, and Portal 2 music stems I ripped from the game with GCFscape. I had the general order of the playlist memorized, so that I knew if I skipped around and heard Vortal Combat, I was at the first song in the playlist, and I could click out of shuffle mode to go backwards to my newly added songs. The ipod had a button that spoke the names of songs out loud to you in a funny text-to-speech voice, because it didn’t have a screen. I can still hear it doing its best to handle those stems - “sp_a2_part2_coretransfer”, right?

But we’re here to talk about Half Life. For a period that may have lasted up to three years, it consumed me. I searched “half life 2 episode 3” and every possible variation up on google news a few times a week. I made my parents listen to the soundtrack. I have faint memories of trawling FF.N for fanfiction to occupy my little self, as well as a few forays onto Ao3. I spent most of my time on deviantart, although I couldn’t tell you what I was actually DOING on there, haha. I was digging through middle school notebooks a few days ago, and found a handful that were packed with Valve ephemera…unfinished and unfocused fanfiction, musings on how to mash Portal and Half Life canon together, fiction featuring actual Valve employees, unsteady drawings of hunters and Team Fortress 2 characters and how I thought Episode 3 was going to play out.

And then…I got tired. I graduated from 8th grade and discovered Sherlock and Homestuck and Doctor Who and gleefully immersed myself in their work and fandoms. (You had to be there.) It was nice to lurk in a live community, and as I worked through high school, Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, and assorted animated things took over as tentpole media. I moved across the country. I graduated from high school and enrolled in an animation program at a local university. And I grew up.

One fateful day in November 2019, I was sitting in an art history class. I had my sketchbook open next to my notes, and I had a red pen I’d picked up at work that was a joy to doodle with. I was thinking about a set of character designs a classmate had shown a few hours ago, ones that had sparked thoughts I hadn’t had in at least seven years. As my professor showed slides of Northern Renaissance still lives, I drew a place I’d never been, yet seemed to remember as well as my old neighborhood.

(I’d like to note, just to flex, that I know you can’t see the Citadel from that angle. I was making a conscious choice to try to hit every landmark in one picture, and that’s the angle I started from.)

A few hours later, Valve announced Half-Life Alyx – the first Half-Life game in thirteen years. I watched the trailer on my phone on a bench at school. Then I watched it at work, a few minutes before my shift. Then I watched it again.

I didn’t know what to think. I’d read Epistle Three - I’d closed the book. I’d already mourned. It was like a dead friend returning from the grave.

Then it grew. I had to play this game.

I’d attended a VR demo through my school’s video game development club a year ago. It had been magical – I and my friend were the last ones to leave. I thought as I left that VR was truly something different and unique, impressed beyond belief by Space Pirate Trainer and Tilt Brush. This is what I try to impress on everyone I talk about VR with – there’s no substitute for being inside a headset. A stream is a pale facsimile of the experience. Now, here was a new Half Life game, and I finally had an excuse to purchase a VR system.

What I didn’t realize was that I needed a proper computer to run the used Vive I ended up buying in February, and as I was preparing to build my proper VR computer, everything went to shit. As the year passed I scrapped together a tower on the back of a broken system I got from a friend, and finally – finally – in February 2021, I had a computer that could run Half-Life Alyx. (I have learned a lot about computers in the last year! So much fun.)

And when I had everything set up, I was playing a new Half-Life game!! a NEW one! Even through a new medium, it felt like home in a way I really didn’t expect. I still don’t know how to express it. It’s nice to play a Half-Life game where I didn’t know what was coming next, where the maps and story weren’t burnt into my brain. Part of me imagined it felt good to be in the Source engine again. Maybe it just felt good to return to City 17. And it was soooo much fun, every minute of it.

The other thing was that…I got to experience the game as an adult, one with about 8/9ths of an animation degree. I know about the production pipeline now, and writing a good story, and directing the viewer’s eye, and setup and payoff cinematography and vistas and visual storytelling. Playing through HLA is playing through a work of art. I almost wished I didn’t know anything about Valve’s game design philosophy, because then I wouldn’t have noticed how the devs were playing me like a fiddle – but how much fun it was to be that fiddle.

I finished Half Life Alyx a few weeks ago, on March 12th – just one day after the anniversary of the last day of school. I thought my gaming habits had dropped off since 2013 because I had moved on to other interests, but I wonder now if it’s simply because I ran out of linear, single-player FPSes to play. (Or maybe none appealed to me.) I like to know that I’m always going in the right direction, and that my story is intentional and will come to a climax in a satisfying way. Do I owe my preference in game styles to my 2010-13 obsessions? Maybe. I don’t think it matters by now. What I DO know is that my childhood ambition of working at Valve now looms again...

And of course, 11-year-old me is completely blissed out. I can’t wait to see what they do next. It’s been so much fun to return to this world in the past year, to use the powers I’ve gained in the last decade to fulfil my childhood ambitions of expressing my love for the universe and characters. Thanks for coming back for us, Valve.

[background-noise-headache]

Hurt the Bard, but like, Emotionally/Non-lethally

Um, terribly painful Jaskier-whump idea. (This has some Geraskier elements in it, but in a pre-relationship, developing friendship way, featuring a lot of Geralt openly caring for Jaskier because that’s my head canon, Geralt speaks with actions and his eyes, not his words. 

I know the fandom likes to play with the idea of Jaskier’s parents being distant or abusive or neglectful. Which I do enjoy, but I vibe more with the idea that Jaskier had very supportive parents and that’s why he’s so confident and open and affectionate.

So, this: The court mage’s apprentice is bitter and angry seeing all this love that annoying brat (only a few years younger than him) gets. The jealousy is eating at him. Jaskier goes to Oxenfurt then sets out on his own to become a bard with the encouragement of his parents even if it’s not what’s expected of a viscount.

Somewhere between when Jaskier meets Geralt to the djinn incident (I imagine after Cintra) Jaskier is home for a while, telling his family about his adventures and being showered in love and sharing that love back with them, he’s missed them so much.

The apprentice is now the court mage and that anger has never gone away, just been buried and smothered because dude does not have the best coping mechanisms, no one ever taught him any. Asshole decides to cast a curse on Jaskier:

“Every kind word will cause you pain and make you rot on the inside, but no one will see the pain they cause you. It won’t kill you physically, but you’ll swear you’re dying. Every kind word, every compliment, will make you rot until the only relief and joy you get is when someone insults you. You’ll beg for them to hate you, beg for them to spit in your face.”

By the next day it’s clear how effective the curse is.

(Okay, trigger warning for body horror, skin issues, medical wounds. This is honestly me coping with a terrible nightmare I had a few years back that I never completely got over and sometimes I need to talk about it. So, bear with me, or skip to my line of astrisks)

(You know what, additional trigger warnings for toxic relationships and emotional abuse between Jaskier an characters only mentioned in the show but never seen. You know the ones)

By rot, I mean that when Jaskier looks at his skin it looks like it’s bruising, and then cracking, bleeding, pealing away. It’s molting and pussy and awful (that is specifically what it looked like in my dream, the skin on my left arm was molting.) But nobody fricken sees it! Jaskier can point to the wounds, groan in pain, nobody sees the cause. It’s not actually there, it’s technically in his head because that’s what the curse does, it won’t kill him, just rot him. 

So immediately Jaskier realizes he has to leave home because every time he sees his parents and his siblings and his neices and nephews they’re excited and happy and loving. They’re quick to realize something’s wrong, but Jaskier knows they can’t see the way his skin is turning. He leaves without saying goodbye because he can’t explain.

He travels, avoids his friends and familiar places where he’s known. But when he performs his audience will tell him how wonderful his songs were and patrons will flirt and it’s all pain. It’s less painful to avoid performing, but harder to survive without it. But he can’t always bear the pain, it’s just too much sometimes.

He runs into an old classmate. He and Valdo were never close, several years apart in age. They chat, they flirt, they go to bed together. Valdo is sparing with his compliments, and very observant. Because Jaskier gets irritable with pain and too many nice words makes him lash out, but insults stir a fire in his eyes that Valdo enjoys. He thinks he knows what Jaskier really wants. He’s not sure how he feels about it, but Valdo can’t remember the last time he had a fling so interesting and contradictory.

They travel for a while. Jaskier becomes a backup for Valdo’s performances, getting a share of the coin to get by and minimal attention. It’s better this way, he tells himself.

One drunken night he tells Valdo about the curse. To Valdo it makes too much sense and it’s so tragic and the tragedy makes it more romantic. The relationship is downhill from there as Jaskier realizes the kind of situation he’s gotten himself into and how he’s becoming dependent on Valdo’s cruelty, and how much crueler it feels if Valdo says something nice.

He leaves.

He meets the Countess. She flirts with insults and thrives making people feel lower than her. She pays him a lot of money to play for her and takes him to bed and rarely has a kind word and if he avoids drinking too much he’ll never fall into the same trap he did with Valdo.

And then a song begins circulating about a poor bard cursed to long for pain and cruelty, who will never know love again. Which fucking hurts worse than any of this shit before, the message that he’ll never be loved again burns.

The Countess grows bored and kicks him out. He travels for a few weeks, to tired and burnt out to perform and goes through his money fast. He also had jack-all in the way of travel supplies, not even a bedroll, so it’s a rough few weeks after he can no longer afford a bed under a roof.

And then he meets Geralt on the bank of the Pontar. Gods it’s nice to focus on someone else’s problems for a moment. And then the fillingless pie comment, and it’s the first time in a Gods-know-how-long time that he finds no relief in the insult, only annoyance. And that old habit of bickering with Geralt kicks in because even if it’s been a few years they’re still friends. 

(Yes, they’re friends. I head canon that Geralt says they’re not friends 1. because he has obvious abandonment issues and self loathing problems, as the fandom well knows, and 2. every time he says he and Jaskier aren’t friends, Jaskier insists they are with more and more evidence to prove it and it makes Geralt feel warm and fuzzy. Eventually they had that conversation and Jaskier knows what Geralt actually means/wants to hear when he says they’re not friends)

(also Geralt has been plagued with insomnia for weeks or months on end, and I’m telling you, you would be cranky too. Not getting enough sleep gives me migraines, worsens my snow vision, makes my ADHD worse, and makes me irritable. That’s why Geralt is so grumpy on the river bank)

So for a few minutes he forgets about the curse and the festering rot on his skin. And then the djinn, and he’d really like to get back at the two people that have hurt him the most recently, and then break this stupid fucking curse already.

No such luck.

And after all the djinn nonsense, Yen makes the offhanded comment, “Where’s your cursed bard run off to.”

“He shouldn’t be cursed any more.”

“Oh no, he was cursed long before the djinn.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I didn’t see it until you left.”

“And you didn’t break it?”

“It wasn’t killing him. The djinn was. One problem at a time. The djinn needed to be solved before this curse.”

So, yeah, Yennefer and Geralt find Jaskier outside and they have a long talk about it. Yen needs a day to prepare for breaking the curse because she’s already used a lot of chaos today and she needs rest. (And those two idiots need to talk, she can see it and it’s giving her a migraine she needs to sleep off)

Jaskier tells Geralt about the last year or so of his life. It’s fucking shit.

The curse is broken. There’s no sign of rot on Jaskier’s skin, no pain when anyone says something kind, like “we are friends” and “I missed you” which is a relief.

But the emotional changes won’t go away overnight. Jaskier responds to kindness with hostility and takes insults in silence. And Geralt isn’t doing well watching someone he cares about act... act like Geralt. Self-hating and believing they need cruelty to be normal. And there’s no traveling therapist either. So they’re doing the best they can. But it’s a rough few years as Jaskier unlearns all that shit.

It kind of convinces Geralt to get his head a little more out of his ass and stop hating himself so much, realizing how painful it must be for Jaskier and his brothers and Vesemir and Yennefer to watch.

The mountain is just a really awful few days. Jaskier takes Geralt’s lashing with minimal resistance. A comment that it’s not fair is a vast improvement from 5-6 years ago, but nothing like his younger self would have responded, all puffed up dramatics until Geralt realized how ridiculous he was being.

Geralt and Jaskier have an awkward, stunted few days hiking down the mountain, during which Jaskier decides he needs to go to the coast and sort himself out. He’ll see Geralt next spring.

He goes home and spends that autumn with his family. It’s the most healing three months he’s ever had. The mage has long since left, and Jaskier’s not sure he’ll ever get that closure, but he’ll take what healing he can get now. He’s more like his old self than he’s ever been since the curse broke.

And then Geralt shows up on the edge of winter, limping with an exhausted child surprise and a wounded sorceress by his side. Jaskier gives them shelter for a few nights but they can’t stay, they’ll in danger as long as they’re stuck down south.

The night before they leave, Geralt and Jaskier talk, clear the air. Geralt asks if Jaskier is happy. He is. So Geralt decides not to ask Jaskier to join him. Yennefer is the one to ask, because fuck that idiotic bullshit and Ciri already knows him from a few winters spent at Cintra and adores him, and he’s already great with kids, a skill Yennefer and Geralt can’t claim yet.

Jaskier’s family supports him, of course they do. He promises to return home soon.

* * *

So like, I was going to pose this as a writing prompt and offer it to anyone who wants to write it. I didn’t intend to develop it so much, but getting it out of my system helped a lot. I needed to get all those ideas out.

If it speaks to you, feel free to run with it, but please include a link to this original post or mentioned me. My ao3 is Shadowmightwrite17

(yeah, tbh, that nightmare still haunts me. I told my parents about it immediately, but I didn’t open up about it to anyone until last summer when I told my best friend about it. I was like, “did I ever tell you about that one nightmare I had where my skin was molting off my arm?” and he was like, “no. no you did not. wtf” But there was also a thing last week when I read a vaguely body-horror sentence in a Witcher fanfic about something moving under your skin and I remembered again, so like, I needed to talk about it somehow)