#i can’t flip a switch and turn off my adhd

[crabofthewoods]

so about adhd

i know there’s that whole thing with neurotypical people saying “just focus”/“just get your work done” or “try harder” or something to that effect

and i think it’s hard for people to comprehend the words “i can’t” because to them it just comes across as “i don’t want to” or “i refuse to”; people automatically assume that the person with adhd is just being lazy

but it’s not just an “i can’t”; it’s an “im not able to”

im not super familiar with chemicals and brain functions and stuff (please educate me if you can/want to!!) but i am fairly certain that one of the causes/results of having adhd is that our brains don’t process dopamine correctly

dopamine, the chemical responsible for things like motivation and satisfaction and being able to focus, does not get processed properly in our head

[thegrandlinesimp]

Hii! I saw your autism awareness event and I think it's so cool that you're doing this! Last year I found out I have autism and things finally made sense to me after all these years. So I'd like to request something for this event ☺️

May I request Zoro/Law with 'Reaction to first seeing their s/o have a shutdown'. I suffer from panic attacks (luckily I'm doing a lot better lately, but oof). So this prompt feels recognisable :)

Thank you 💕

As requested over PM I switched out Law for Bartolomeo (my simpy cutie!)

Panic attacks aren’t a far cry from shutdowns in my own experience (I get both so I gotta do an assessment on how I feel when I know one is coming on cause my coping for each is vastly different). For me the main differences are how fast my heart is going and if I can talk, for both there’s still that general sense of fear, that everyone is looking at me.

I get things making sense, I went through all of school not knowing I had autism (turns out my parents had an inclining but never got me tested) and literally 2-3 weeks before finals in my last year I got tested.

Fun bombshell.

Case in point: IF YOU THINK YOU OR YOUR CHILD HAS AUTISM GET THE TEST DONE!!! THIS GOES FOR ANYTHING!!! DOWN SYNDROME, ADD, ADHD, SCHIZOPHRENIA!!! ANYTHING!!!

Note: Barto’s one is with an S/O whose shutdown was induced by stress, yes, this can happen, I was once so stressed I had them weekly for three weeks straight 😊 fun times

BTW: anything written like this is information pertaining to autism that helps add context and is written in such a way that one’s eyes are drawn to it but is easier to ignore than if it was in bold.

Warning: Zoro’s is a bit panic inducing, proceed with caution!

Zoro and Bartolomeo: first time seeing their autistic!S/O have a shutdown

Zoro

Again, I feel this would happen at a famous Straw Hat party, and pretty early in the relationship too

Tbh this dummy doesn’t really notice anything wrong till someone points you out to him, too busy taking part in tasting the local drink

But when some local says “that pirate’s acting pretty weird” he gets worried

He knows you’re different, you explained it to him as best as you could, and he recalls you saying something about “turning off” when you get sensitive

When he sees you, he wishes he listened better

You’ve found a secluded spot not too far from the ship, probably having tried to make it there before you shutdown fully

Laying on your side, body tense yet there’s little twitches in your limbs every now and then, knees pulled up and hands clutched to your chest, they’re twitching the most

Then he realises they’re not twitching

You’re scratching…

No, clawing at your own skin!

This is also known as self-harm stimming, where the person is unable to help but hurt themselves as a means to get out of the current state they’re in. such actions include scratching one’s skin long after it bleeds, hitting oneself, using objects to self-harm. From personal experience the need to do so is incredibly strong and occurs more when in a depressive state followed by an anxious state, such as a shutdown

As soon as he realises this, his immediate instinct is to grab your wrists as he shouts for you to stop

You want to scream at the sudden touch, kick out, flail, yet your body tenses, knees curling up tighter to your chest, breath coming in little gasps as you curl in on yourself mentally and physically

Zoro’s stomach flips at your reaction, but he holds fast, keeping a firm – near bruising – grip on your arms, thinking to himself that whatever discomfort you’re feeling is better than adding to the flecks of blood under your fingernails

Even with your eyes squeezed shut, you can feel his intense gaze on you, which only worsens the numb inducing terror pumping through your veins

Too many eyes, hands to tight, everything too loud, too much too much too much, helphelphelphelp!

You want to shout it all at him yet you can’t even open your mouth

It’s Robin who finds the two of you, within seconds she’s assessed the situation and takes immediate action, telling Zoro to keep holding you while she runs to the ship

She ends up coming back with Chopper, who saw her dashing about and knew something was up for the woman to be in such a state

Robin carefully drapes a blanket over you, and Chopper changes into his Walk Point form, laying the front half of his body across yours

The reindeer says Zoro can let go of you now, which he does very reluctantly

It surprises the swordsman when you seem to cling to Chopper’s fur, the young doctor flinching a little at the tight grip but not voicing any discomfort

When you eventually calm down, Chopper carries you back to the ship on his back, not caring if you’re too heavy, he patches your cuts (thankfully not too deep) and has you rest in the infirmary for the remainder of the crew’s stay at the island

Zoro watches you for the next few weeks like a hawk, Chopper ends up having to explain exactly what happened

He promises to do better for you, asking the ship’s doctor dozens of questions to better prepare himself

He’s gonna feel guilty when he realises that he made the whole thing worse, give him time, tell him he didn’t know and you forgive him, he’ll come around

(there weren't enough gifs on here to I grabbed one off google, and the fact that this gif isn't available on Tumblr is a sin)

Bartolomeo

Thankfully he does better than the previously mentioned green haired boy

Honestly the day was lovely, strong wind filling the Going Luffy-Senpai’s (I will never get over this ship’s name) sails, bringing with it the crips smell of the sea and rolling waves

Surprisingly good weather for the Grand Line

Bartolomeo was cheery as ever, ready for his crew’s next adventure

Only, he couldn’t seem to find his number one partner in crime, you

It was odd, you were usually out on deck, soaking up the warm sun or shouting profanities at oncoming storms, so to not have your lively presence on deck was making him a little uneasy

He eventually finds you in your shared cabin, wrapped up in a bunch of blankets, curled up on the bed

Of course, his immediate thought is: ‘cuddles!’

As one can guess this didn’t go well

The moment he goes to climb into bed next to you, you let out a soft, short, high-pitched whine

He pauses, having never heard you make that sound

“Ev-…everything okay, babe?” he asks as he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder

Only for you to flinch again, whining once more

Bartolomeo starts to panic, were you hurt? Why didn’t you say anything to him? Why didn’t you tell him? What was going on?!

“…No…touch…” you manage to mumble, curling up tighter

Now, Bartolomeo isn’t the smartest man, but he has a decent memory, and he remembers you telling him about your autism, how sometimes you just didn’t want to be touched because it upset you

…Or…or something like that?

His first thought is to make a funny face to make you laugh, if you laugh you won’t be upset anymore, right?

Hmm, but you don’t seem to want to move, and you’re hiding under the blanket

Favourite food? No, you need to move for that as well…

And then he has a brilliant idea…that – obviously – involves the Straw Hats

He pulls out a scrap book from a draw, flipping through the various newspaper clippings before coming across one of the funniest news articles involving Luffy-senpai and his crew

Bartolomeo sits down on the floor with his back against the bed, and begins to read

He tries to keep his voice as quiet as possible, recalling you saying you hate shouting when you’re ‘upset’, though he does get a little excitable and ends up giggling every now and then

It’s by the fourth news article that you begin to giggle along with him

Once he’s finished the article he turns to grin at you, but his smile falls when he sees you’ve been crying

“Cuddle?” you whisper, a faint smile on your face

He returns the smile, climbing onto the covers so as not to disturb your blanket cocoon and wrapping his arms around you

He doesn’t mind that you don’t feel like talking right now, there’s plenty of time for you to explain everything to him later

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Dimitrescu Daughter HCs

I thought this would only take a few minutes. I was so, so very wrong. Anyway, some of these are somewhat exclusive to my fic (Serenade), but they’ll make sense even if you haven’t read that.

Daniela:

Others have already talked about how Daniela reads a ton of romance novels, so I’m not really going to go into that very much, just saying that I agree 100%, I mean c’mon, it’s practically canon.

While she mainly sources books from her family’s library, there are a few she’s “acquired” over the years that she keeps locked away in her room. These tend to be a bit, ahem, steamier than her mother would approve of/let her read under normal circumstances.

How did she get these? Well, there has to be someone who delivers goods to Castle Dimitrescu (Duke, perhaps?), seeing as the Maidens need, like, actual food to survive. Sometimes Daniela manages to convince them to order books for her, usually just asking for books by authors she likes, or ones she’s heard maidens whispering about.

No, the delivery person does not read the book’s summaries or reviews, they have a feeling (based on titles and covers alone) that they don’t want to know.

As for her experiences with actual romance… she’s so very, very excited about it, all the time. Wants to kiss every cute Maiden she sees, and sometimes daydreams about a beautiful woman fleeing from lycans who comes to the castle for shelter, clinging to Dani for warmth and protection, and it’s love at first sight, and they kiss and kiss and right as it gets to the good part-! Someone interrupts her daydream (usually Cassandra).

However, her actual experiences are fairly limited. Sure, she has kissed Maidens, but she tends to get over excited. Like in Serenade, she starts to rush the process, and usually ends up draining her “lover” aka victim before anything more intimate happens.

She’s definitely done sexual things, just, well, not with other people. Private things. Usually during or after reading one of her special books. You get the picture.

Because of this, and her aforementioned love of romance novels, Daniela has become somewhat obsessed with the idea of her first time. She wants everything to be perfect. The setting, the timing, who she’s with… Hence her reaction in chapter 3 of Serenade. It’s not that she didn’t want to continue, just that the circumstances didn’t feel right. She’s very particular!

Favorite Music Genre: Girl goes wild for an emotional, gut-wrenching love/power ballad. The type to lie in bed and cry while listening to Hozier or Lorde (not that she can hear either of them, considering her limited music options). Doesn’t admit it, though, and mostly listens to indie pop when other people can hear. That and whatever the Maiden plays on piano ;)

Okay it feels weird to joke about her loving music I wrote, anywayyyy

Hobbies: Other than reading there’s not too much I can see her doing, really. She’d be sure to get into anything that her s/o enjoys, though, even if it’s something difficult or time-consuming. Writing is something she’d love, but it’s difficult for her to keep her focus on just one project at a time. Ideally she’d write short stories, romantic ones obvs, and have someone else proofread/edit them. For the most part she’d write within fantasy and historical setting (seeing as she’s got experience in both of those departments).

ADHD, BABY. Bigtime, seriously. Maybe this is just my adhd ass projecting, but I can’t not see her as having it. For her it mainly manifests with hyper-focusing/difficulty staying on task. It’s like a switch with those on either end, flipping back and forth every once in a while. She can spend six hours reading two different books in one sitting, but if someone just breathes too loudly it disrupts her completely. Because of this she’s somewhat prone to abandoning projects. It’s a sore subject for her, and her sisters are aware, normally only bringing it up if they’re really angry with her.

Opinions on the four lords: Thinks Heisenberg is a tool (pun intended), also thinks that he secretly reads super erotic novels. She doesn’t have any proof, though, and would never say anything about it out loud. Just makes fun of him in her head. Doesn’t actually judge him for what she thinks he reads, just judges his personality and the “need he feels to hide his secret”. Loves Donna, and low-key thinks she’s attractive. Daniela mostly bases that off the portrait she’s seen, but, like many fans, also thinks the hands are nice. The puppets don’t bother her, though she also doesn’t really care about them, other than thinking that Donna interacting with them is cute.

Opinions continued: Moreau is… uh… fish boy. Daniela thinks he’s weird, kinda gross, and hardly considers him a “real” lord. Poor boy :(  At least she doesn’t actively make fun of him?... Even if that’s only because she kinda forgets about him most of the time. As for Lady Dimitrescu, well, obviously Daniela loves her mom. The whole family is very close, and as the “youngest”, Daniela gets a lot of attention. Sometimes she thinks her mother is too strict, but at the end of the day there’s no love lost.

Bela:

Cleans up after her sisters a lot, but still nowhere near as much as any of the Maidens do. Often agrees to help with messes in exchange for blackmail material. “Oh, Daniela, what a shame you broke mother’s favorite dish… I could help, but you owe me one.” At the end of the day, though, there’s plenty she would slide.

Being the “oldest”, she’s expected to behave the best, and often feels more restricted than her sisters. Being an example is hard! Occasionally she’ll have the impulse to rebel, but this usually only manifests in scenarios like the one mentioned above, aka she’ll simply be more lenient of her siblings for a bit.

Overall far less sadistic than her sisters. Cares more about the quality of pain then the amount of it. Only ever goes overboard if someone full out threatens or hurts her family. Insults towards them still earn her ire, and will get her to punish someone, but it’s not enough to make her resort to torture. Usually.

Gets the most restless out of the three. As cool (and large) as the castle is, it’s all she’s ever really known. If not for her weakness to cold, she’d go out on hikes a lot. Nature interests her, fascinates her, but she’d be a little less fond of most of it in person. Like, oh, waterfalls sound so cool, followed by a hundred complaints about the noise. Thinks deer are the cutest shit ever (second only to humans, maybe).

Unlike Daniela (though that HC is relevant almost exclusively to Serenade), Bela has actually slept with a Maiden before. She doesn’t really care for them enough to consider it a relationship, instead admiring them for their entertainment value. Definitely could fall for a Maiden, simply hasn’t yet. Of the three I feel like she takes the longest to fall in love, and even longer to actually act on her feelings. Sometimes resents her siblings because they unknowingly “claimed” a Maiden that she was starting to be interested in. However, she fully acknowledges that she should have said something if she didn’t want to lose the girl, considering the situation they live in.

Favorite music genre: Classical, full orchestra style, with a soft spot for swing/jazz. Enjoys having music play softly while she reads, and is very particular about the volume. Absolutely would argue with her sisters if they tried to change the music or turn it up.

Hobbies: Reading, duh. Less interested in romance than Daniela by a considerable amount. For the most part she reads non-fiction books, enjoying learning about history and the sciences. Astronomy is at the top of her favorites list, followed by biology, then obscure (and often bloody) pieces of history. Niche=perfect. Also enjoys music, even if she had to rely mostly on self-teaching books. Knows the basics of piano, but doesn’t actively play, much preferring both the violin and harp. Most of the time she’ll only play if she knows her sisters won’t bother her, or if her mother asks her to.

Opinions on the four lords: Admires Heisenberg’s work/his edgenuity, but thinks the actual man is a temperamental child… who smells like wet dog. He’s only been at Castle Dimitrescu a couple times (per Mother Miranda’s request), and both times Bela moved to the other side of the house so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge his existence. While she would never admit it, she’s low-key creeped out by Donna’s dolls, and really only tolerates Angie. However, she would never act on her nerves, out of consideration for Donna’s feelings. She knows that her mother gets along well with the dollmaker, and keeps this at the forefront of her mind.

Opinions continued: “Moreau who? Oh, the fish guy? He’s still alive?... Good for him.” Wants to make Lady Dimitrescu proud, but not as desperately as Cassandra. Unknowingly mimics a lot of her mother’s little habits and ticks, and would be quietly embarrassed if someone pointed it out to her. As mentioned previously, she feels like she has to be an example for the others, and somewhat resents the pressure this puts on her. On the other hand, she does enjoy being “responsible for” (read: in charge of) her sisters. Additionally, she is the most likely to get away with lying to Alcina, though she does not often do so. This isn’t because she’s the most manipulative (that’s Cass), or the best liar (that’s Dani, if she’s trying), but simply because Alcina doesn’t think her oldest daughter would lie. Even if she doubts something Bela says, she’ll usually give her the benefit of the doubt… as long as it doesn’t happen very often.

Cassandra:

Sleeps the most of the three, if only because she’s the most active of them. Not as fast as the others while in swarm mode, but the fastest on foot, partially because she’s more likely to simply walk places. She knows the sound of feet on the floor scares the Maidens, and she drinks their fear with utter pleasure. Additionally she claims that it just feels nice to “stretch her legs”. But she will not hesitate to enter swarm mode when chasing someone. As fun as it is to smell their fear, she can get impatient, wanting to get close and personal to her target.

Tends to hide most of her feelings, sometimes even opting to “convert” them into anger. In other words, think of her emotional state as an ever-filling bottle of water. As things happen, she feels emotions, and the rate at which water pours into the bottle increases. Ideally if the water level started getting too high, she would address whatever is increasing the flow of water. Instead of that, she often uses anger, which is equivalent to shaking the bottle a bit and letting water messily spill out of it. Doesn’t address the actual problem, but let’s her release some pressure/free up some room.

Goes through Maidens faster than her siblings (yes, even Daniela “draining you of blood is romantic” Dimitrescu). Not all of them even die in the basement, sometimes what was supposed to be a “warning” turns into “oh shit the blood won’t stop coming out, this is how I die, in this accursed castle, no friends or family to mourn me, just the painful knowledge that I will not be the last, I will die for no cause, no glory, just the bitter whims of a blood-soaked mistress” or something along those lines.

While more likely to get attached to someone than Bela, Cassandra isn’t one to do much about it. She might flirt, might even try to kiss (or, uh, kiss while also not wearing clothes wink wink), but she won’t (usually) claim someone as her own, or protest if one of her sisters wants to have some fun with them (even if it’s the bloody kind of fun). Technically gets over breakups and “breakups” (i.e. death) easier than either of her sisters. To be fully accurate, Daniela still goes through lovers faster, but she also remembers them and cares for them for longer post-breakup.

Somewhat of a blood kink. Like, more than vampires automatically have. In intimate settings she cares more about the quantity of blood and what she can do with it (loves bloodstains) than what causes the bloodshed.

Favorite music genre: Rock ‘n roll. Leans towards older stuff, as well as heavier songs. Soft spot for symphonic metal, but doesn’t admit it out of the fear that some might consider it a “weaker form” of the genre. Almost exclusively listens to bands that have female vocalists, and gets crushes on them more than she’d ever admit.

Hobbies: Art! Painting, mostly, but dabbles in sculpture from time to time. It’s been too long since I took an art class for me to suggest a style for her paintings, but I imagine her sculptures would be somewhat abstract. Her art would revolve around emotion, the stronger and rawer the better, with viewers often being left uncomfortable. While Alcina buys plenty of art supplies for her, Cassandra is fond of improvising, especially by creating her own “tools” (of questionable efficiency) out of items she has laying around. She is absolutely the one who took her mother’s lipstick. If you don’t know what that means, don’t worry, it’s just mentioned in one of the RE8 notes that Lady Dimitrescu’s valuable lipstick is missing.

Opinions on the four lords: Tolerates Heisenberg more than the rest of her family by a considerable amount. She’s seen glimpses of his work, his steampunk-adjacent style, and actually kind of digs it. While Bela cares more about the science behind his work, Cassandra just digs the aesthetic. Sometimes for her art she also needs things she can’t get from the castle, and are too obscure to get from a merchant, so she trades tools/ideas with Heisenberg in exchange for him making something for her. “Can you make a battery but whenever it’s in use it makes a horrible screaming sound?” “Yes. PS I hate your mother and Miranda.” “I didn’t fucking ask.”

Opinions continued: Doesn’t really care much about Donna, but acknowledges her as a fellow artist, and would be willing to consult her if she talked more (and talked without Angie). Cassandra hasn’t met Moreau, thankfully (he would cry). Knows about him from her sister/mother, and as a result doesn’t care about him. Internally whenever someone mentions him, she pictures, like, a Goldfish Cracker (the snack that smiles back) with legs except also it’s green and moldy.

Opinions cont.: Loves her mother so much. Determined to please her, to make her proud, but often left feeling less loved than her sisters. This strains her relationship with her family, not that she’d ever voice her feelings and talk through the issue. Let’s be real, Alcina would probably feel guilty for not realizing how Cass felt. Nonetheless, Cassandra probably spends the most time with her mother, often offering to assist her with tasks, or trying to get her to appreciate her art.

[jaskierswolf]

Weight on My Shoulders

A very self-indulgent prequel to my not so kinky soulmate AU (Tumblr/AO3).

Any references to events or messages involving my own darling soulmate @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde is purely coincidental. I promise we are much more needy than this.

Ship: Geraskier (pre-romantic)

CW: Far too much pining, mentions of anxiety, long distance friendships

_____

Jaskier pouted as he wrapped himself up in his weighted blanket and duvet. Even with the additional weight he was struggling to sleep properly, but it did help. What would really help was a hug from his soulmate, but that was off the table. Geralt was a bazillion lightyears away, all the way in America, and Jaskier was stuck in miserable, grey England. They’d been talking online for two years, and the distance wasn’t getting any easier. If anything it was getting worse, and Jaskier wasn’t sure how much more he could take of it.

“Jask, you’re falling asleep, love,” Geralt hummed from the too bright screen that was lighting up his room. “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed,” Jaskier huffed.

“Go to sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

Jaskier whined, sinking further into his blanket burrito. “But I have work again tomorrow, I don’t want to sleep. I want to talk to you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Geralt sighed, smiling warmly at him through the screen, “But I will be here when you wake, I promise.”

“I’d rather you be here with me.”

It was pathetic. Jaskier knew it was pathetic, but he just felt a warmth in his chest, a ghost of Geralt’s arms around him.

“I’m always here” Geralt hummed in his mind.

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s mental embrace, letting himself soak in the glow of his soulmate’s warmth. He was struggling to keep his eyes open which didn’t really matter but he only had a few hours each day to video call his soulmate and he hated wasting any of them. It had been worse the last few days. Essi and Pris had announced they were going to honeymoon in New York, and whilst they wouldn’t see Geralt, they would be a whole lot closer than Jaskier had ever been. He’d even considered asking to tag along in their suitcases so he could afford the trip to the States.

He just missed Geralt so fucking much.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, wiping the tears from his eyes that he hadn’t even realised had formed. “I love you more than Dandelion.”

He tried to laugh but it sounded weak to his own ears. Dandelion was a musician, just like he was hoping to be, a beautiful tall elegant man with gorgeous long blond curls, and a laugh that could outshine a thousand suns. He was also Jaskier’s celebrity crush and inspiration. Jaskier had been obsessed since he was sixteen, secretly hoping that Dandelion was his soulmate. Not much had changed since meeting Geralt in his dreams. He was still completely obsessed with the musician, only his daydreams tended to include Geralt as well, a fact that his soulmate thankfully found endearing.

“Wow,” Geralt chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s high praise.”

“It’s true! I would renounce my love of Dandelion for mere seconds in your arms,” Jaskier insisted, “and then I would never let you go and you’d be stuck with me.”

“It would be hard to work with a Jaskier in my arms.”

Jaskier scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “You’ll manage.”

“Sleep, Jask,” Geralt’s words were a low hum, added weight to his blanket and Jaskier could feel himself slipping. He supposed it was only a matter of time really, it was nearly midnight and Jaskier had to get up at an ungodly hour for work. “For me.”

And really that was just unfair. Geralt knew that Jaskier would do anything for him. He was just that desperate for attention, although despite his slightly less dramatic personality, Geralt could be equally needy, if you knew how to read him.

“That’s cheating,” Jaskier whined.

“I never said I play fair.”

“Betrayed by my own soulmate,” Jaskier pouted as Geralt hung up the call and his tiny little bedroom fell into darkness. Without the light of his phone, Jaskier was fighting a losing battle. “I love you, dear heart.”

“I love you too, a lot. Too much.”

Jaskier scoffed, turning to hug his pillow. “Never too much, never enough. Goodnight, my love”

“Night, Jask.”

_______

When he awoke the next morning, Jaskier had a notification on his phone. It wasn’t unusual. Geralt often left him little messages, pictures of Roach, or things that had reminded him of Jaskier throughout the day. Sometimes, if Jaskier was lucky, Geralt would leave him gifs of Dandelion, and on even rarer occasions, awkward selfies that were never flattering despite Geralt’s godlike appearance. Jaskier treasured every single one. But no, that morning he had a more unusual notification.

It was from Lambert.

They’d talked a couple of times, mostly in a group chat whenever Geralt wanted to include Jaskier on family film night or playing games online, which Jaskier was shockingly terrible at, especially the shooting games the boys preferred. Lambert had never DM’d Jaskier before though. There had never been an occasion to, so why bother?

So Jaskier was feeling more than a little anxious about clicking on the message.

“Geralt?” he tested, although he was pretty positive that his soulmate was asleep. Geralt would usually at least say good morning when he was awake, but there had been nothing but silence through their soulbond.

It came as no surprise when Geralt didn’t answer.

His phone buzzed again in his hand, another message from Lambert.

“Bollocks,” Jaskier groaned, sitting up in bed so he could find his glasses. They were buried under his blanket and looking a little bent out of shape but that was nothing new.

L - Guess who’s coming to England on a business trip!

Jaskier’s heart jumped and hope soared through his body, a flutter of wings in his chest as his pulse raced, only to be destroyed in the next second.

L - It’s not Geralt, shit. I should have started with that.

- It’s me.

- I’m coming to England. Found out this morning. All expenses paid. - I’ll be in London for a week, if you want to meet up?

Jaskier stared at his phone. He was excited, of course he was but he couldn’t help the ache in his heart. His friend was coming to England. Geralt’s family was coming to England. That was one step closer to meeting his soulmate in person, but it wasn’t far enough. He felt like shit. Guilt tore through him. Lambert was clearly excited about his news and yet all Jaskier could think of was how he wasn’t Geralt.

Maybe he could give Lambert something to take back to Geralt. They’d sent letters and parcels back and forth but it would be different like this, and he should be excited. He should be over the fucking moon.

And truth be told, if he hadn’t felt so incredibly needy already he probably would have been more excited, but his heart was feeling fragile. Jaskier had spent the last week or so wondering if Geralt loved him back in a romantic way, or whether they would just be the dearest of friends. Whatever it was, Jaskier would be fine. That’s how soulbonds worked. They would be perfect for one another, platonically or romantically but Jaskier fell hard and fast.

Surely Geralt would love him back in the same way, right?

Jaskier was too afraid to ask at this point. He just kept saying “I love you” and hoping that Geralt would hear the truth. Neither of them had spoken about dating other people, but Jaskier knew there was no hope for him. Perhaps the odd fling, but he’d tried that once and without the connection he had with Geralt, he just wasn’t really into it.

He sighed dramatically and picked up his phone.

J - That’s fucking brilliant!!

He added a stream of emojis for good luck.

J - and all expenses paid for?! Drinks are on you, darling x

L - You should be so lucky.

- Pay for your own drink you cheapskate.

Jaskier squinted at the screen, pushing his fringe from his face. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and he ignored the dryness in his throat. Logically, he knew he should get up and get some water but his bed was comfy and he didn’t quite want to face the day yet, especially as Geralt was asleep. Things just felt heavier when Geralt was asleep.

He sighed again and tapped out a message.

J - Can you sneak Geralt in your suitcase?

- I’ll pay for the luggage fee <3

Lambert started typing immediately and Jaskier waited with bated breath. It had been a joke but there was always a chance that Lambert would be allowed a plus one… right?

L - I’m afraid not

- I’m sorry. I know you want to meet.

- Geralt is just as upset. The bastard hasn’t spoken to me all day.

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh at that. He’d sensed something had been bothering his soulmate, especially when Geralt was the one to insist they video-called before Jaskier went to bed, but it was nice to hear that he wasn’t the only one being pathetic and unreasonably grumpy. Sometimes it felt like Jaskier felt everything and Geralt was just putting up with him because he didn’t have much choice. In his heart, Jaskier knew that wasn’t true, that Geralt just showed his love in a more sedate manner.

Opposites really do attract.

He sighed and switched chats, typing out a quick message to his soulmate.

J - I miss you. I love you. I will be unbearably needy today. Sorry!

Flipping his phone to the camera app, Jaskier snapped a quick selfie. He looked like a mess of stubble, glasses and ratty hair… but Geralt never seemed to mind.

J - Isn’t your soulmate the best?

- Love me?

- I love you

- I already said that but it’s true.

Jaskier cursed and threw his phone onto the end of the bed before remembering that he hadn’t answered Lambert yet. He pouted and scrambled to find his phone again, struggling against the weight of his blanket. The blanket did wonders for his ADHD but it could be a pain in the arse to move sometimes. Reluctantly, he switched back to Lambert’s chat.

J - I can’t wait to show you around! Ooh we could go to the natural history museum, I’m sure some of the stuffed animals look just like you! Or maybe a show!

L - Not sure how much I’’ll be able to hang out, but we’ll have to get a photo to show Geralt.

- He’ll probably be jealous.

- But he’ll manage.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. Siblings could be the worst. He’d never really gotten on well with his own sisters but he could imagine having Lambert for a brother would be a hundred times worse. Still, he smiled at his phone. Geralt would be jealous. Geralt wanted to meet him. That was a good thing, no matter how much Jaskier pined to see his soulmate over Lambert.

This was a start.

One day.

They would meet one day, and then Jaskier would never have to let him go. He just had to be patient… for now.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

hey so i'm hoping to get some writing advice about creative burnout? like i seem to write in fits and spurts. some months i can churn out a oneshot or chapter everyday and some months i can do one (1) creative thing only. so i'm wondering how to prevent creative burnout and how to just create more smoothly <3 thank you!

Creative Burnout & How To Ward Against It

First, I’d like to preface this all by saying you’re definitely not alone. You probably already know this, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.

I know from personal experience that creative burnout can leave you feeling hopeless, detached from yourself—the kind of identity crisis no one needs in 2020. 

So buckle in, folks. It’s a dosy.

I. The Symptoms

Not to be the local WebMD page here, but signs of burnout can include:

Procrastination (more than usual)

Dreading writing and feeling stuck or overly perfectionistic when you try

Physical tiredness and/or irritability

Feeling like everything is monotonous

It’s more than just writer’s block. It’s a physical and emotional exhaustion response to something that goes deeper than a simple lack of inspiration. In my experience, and from a bit of research, I’ve found that what your brain is really looking for is dopamine.

Dopamine is essentially your brain’s chemical reward system for doing something interesting or exciting to you. As someone who is diagnosed with ADHD, I have chronically low levels of dopamine, so this is a constant struggle for me—but it is absolutely made worse by creative burnout.

II. The Problem

Studies have shown that the more we do A Thing the less that thing will give us dopamine (unless a component of the activity changes regularly). This is because eventually our brains desensitise to the stimuli provided by the activity, and subsequently, we become disengaged.

But it’s not necessarily The Thing (i.e. writing) that becomes boring. Actually, more than a few factors could be at play here, and the first step to finding a solution is to identify the problem.

1. ENVIRONMENT LACKS EXCITEMENT/CHANGE—

Sometimes, the monotony of everyday life can feed creative burnout. This becomes especially applicable in quarantine when you’re not leaving your house.

What we don’t realise is that even something as small as the variables of driving to and from work, or interacting with passing coworkers, gives us dopamine. So if you have the same routine every day that does not involve any added variables, your brain will begin staunching that dopamine supply.

2. EITHER TOO EASY OR TOO CHALLENGING—

In 1975, Hungarian-American psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, coined the term “flow”, which refers to a heightened state of creativity and concentration on an activity. Csikszentmihalyi posited that if your skill level is equal to the level of challenge in any given activity, you will experience this state of flow.

The chart below is taken from Csikszentmihalyi’s own study on the subject of flow and motivation. It examines “your skill level” on the x axis in relation to the “challenge level” on the y axis.

Essentially:

Too much challenge + not enough skill = anxiety, worry (which might lead to procrastination and perfectionism)

Too much skill + not enough challenge = boredom, apathy (which might lead to monotony, irritability, and other depression-like symptoms)

Skill level = Challenge level = Flow

3. NOT ENOUGH “ACTIVE” STIMULATION—

When it comes to dopamine seeking, there is a distinct difference between active and passive stimulation in the brain.

Active stimulation is any form of activity that you have to actively engage in. For instance; exercising, doing a crossword puzzle, or reading a book. These kinds of activities not only give you dopamine, they also facilitate critical thinking and problem solving thought processes, which act as catalysts for creativity.

Passive stimulation, on the other hand, comes in the form of television, social media, and YouTube. It’s anything you can consume without having to actively engage. Passive stimulation will indeed give your brain dopamine, however, it won’t activate your creativity.

The problem also lies in the speed at which you receive the dopamine from passive activities. Passive stimulation is so easy to access that the more you consume, the harder it becomes to pick up active stimulation. Your brain expects a hit of dopamine just by picking up a phone or turning on the TV—it becomes addicted to the quick fix of a Netflix binge.

III. The Solutions

Based on the problems mentioned above, I am going to list a few solutions. Keeping in mind that not every solution will work for everyone, these can act as both preventative measures and remedies for someone who is currently burned out.

1. CHANGE UP YOUR ENVIRONMENT/ROUTINE—

Aim to do at least one thing per day that will add “variables” to the monotony. This can be as simple as going on a long walk, dressing up in that bold outfit you always wanted to wear to the office but never did, or sitting at a different workspace in your home.

Anything you can do that’s simple, but might provide an extra variable to your day to spice things up. Note: this shouldn’t be the same thing every day.

2. CHALLENGE YOURSELF MORE—

If you find yourself bored by your work, try challenging yourself more. This could mean setting goals for yourself that go a bit beyond what you’ve been doing. 

For example, if you’ve been writing 500 words per day, see if you can beat your own word count every day for the next week. If you’ve been writing mainly fluff pieces, switch it up and do an angst piece. See if you can write a book in a month, or start a blog where you don’t write fiction at all!

Anything you can do to add a little kick to your workload. Note: Beware of challenging yourself too much! This can lead straight back into burnout.

3. CHALLENGE YOURSELF LESS—

If you’re on the flip side of that coin, and find that you are anxious, procrastinating, and perfectionistic when it comes to writing, fret not. Just because you’re experiencing any of these things, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of doing the job with your skillset.

It just means your perception of the job needs to be shifted.

Procrastination, at its heart, is a fear of failure, which results in actively avoiding the negative emotions associated with the task that causes this fear. Perfectionism is a type of procrastination that is a combination of a fear of failure and a fear of success (or, more accurately, other’s critiques of your success) all at once.

Neither have anything to do with your actual skillset, but they have everything to do with your perception of your skillset. Obviously, this is a harder thing to fix, as it has to do with deeply ingrained levels of self-esteem.

What I can offer you is a tactic to trick your mind into thinking you’re capable.

If you have a task, big or small, and you are feeling overwhelmed by it (like you might go curl up in bed and scroll Tumblr), immediately break that task up into smaller tasks. Keep breaking up the smaller tasks until you have the smallest possible part of the bigger task without doing nothing.

Then do that smallest possible thing.

If your goal is to write a 2000 word one shot, a small part of that task is writing half of it. An even smaller part of that task is breaking the one shot up into “scenes” and writing one scene. For instance:

Jude wakes up to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a fever.

She tries to go to work, but Cardan, being the mother hen that he is, threatens to never make her another grilled cheese sandwich (her favourite food) ever again if she doesn’t stay home.

Jude agrees begrudgingly, and Cardan sits her down in front of the TV with a bottle of Gatorade. He leaves to go get medicine from the store.

When Cardan comes back, Jude is worse than before. He makes her soup and saltine crackers and spoon feeds her.

She complains the whole time and, in her feverish state, threatens to never buy him another bottle of wine (his favourite food) ever again if he doesn’t let her feed herself.

Each bullet point represents one “scene” of about 200-400 words each. Obviously, there will be more details that you work out as you write. But with these five smaller scenes, your goal is no longer writing the 2000 word one shot. Your goal is writing the first of the five scenes.

If you complete the smallest possible task, you can stop, and you’ll still feel like you’ve accomplished something because you can cross off that task from your list. But chances are, by the time you cross off one task, you may have inspiration enough to keep going.

4. ENGAGE IN ACTIVE STIMULATION—

Since active stimulation has been proven to turn on the creative “tap”, try incorporating more of these activities into your daily routine:

Exercise: As the resident couch potato, I hate to say that exercising is good for creativity, but it is. Even if it’s just going on a short walk, so long as you’re moving.

Reading: Sometimes you have plenty of ideas, but no words to fit those ideas. Fill your well of words by carving out an hour or two each day for reading a good book.

The Creative Process: In the writing world, the creative process is a process of about 20-30 minutes that the writer partakes in every day before they start writing. This process should be creative, but also have nothing to do with writing. You can try colouring in a colouring book, painting, organising a page in your bullet journal. Anything that is creative but does not make you think about everything you have to do that day. Think of it as creative meditation.

Listen to music: Having APD, I personally can’t listen to music while I write. However, studies have shown that if you listen to at least ten songs per day, it will significantly benefit your dopamine levels and overall mood. If you’re like me and prefer to work in silence, maybe stick on a couple songs during your creative process. If you can manage music and writing together, get out those headphones!

5. KEEP A REGULAR SCHEDULE—

I know this is the most cliche point in the book, but it’s valid. This doesn’t mean do the same thing at the same time every day over and over, because ultimately we’re looking to avoid monotony. 

But having pillars of structure to bolster the excitement can definitely work to keep you from slipping into burnout. Going to sleep, waking up, and having your meals at relatively the same time every day are good examples of this. 

Feel free to change up the things you do between breakfast and lunch, but make sure you have those pillars of consistency so your brain knows that a break is on the horizon and doesn’t get tired.

6. PACE YOURSELF—

This is particularly difficult for those of us who are coming out of a creative burnout, but I urge you to pay special attention to this one. If we are suddenly hit by inspiration and the writing is flowing and flowing and flowing, eventually we will hit the point of highest dopamine capacity for writing.

Not putting a check on the flood of inspiration coming out of a creative burnout, I’d argue, is actually a guarantee that many of us will experience burnout all over again. It becomes this vicious cycle in which we are trapped.

While it feels great to write non-stop and receive immediate validation for that work, try to limit yourself to how much you’re writing and how immediately you post your writing (if you plan on posting it).

Whenever I finish a one shot or a chapter of something, I like to allow at least one day for editing before I post. This timeframe is important, because it acts as a buffer of rest between writing marathons. 

You can take however long you need for the editing process, but definitely make sure you have a set amount of time in place. Otherwise, your brain might not have enough time to come down from what is essentially a writing high, and you will always need to reach greater heights in order to achieve that same level of dopamine.

~~~~

Overall, the most important things to take away from all of this are: 

Change up your environment

Keep your brain actively stimulated 

Have pillars of structure between which you can run about chaotically to your heart’s content

PACE YOURSELF!

Hope this helped. Happy writing!

-Em 🖤🗡

Writing Tip Masterlist

Fic Masterlist

Celebrate 2K with me!

[personal-garbage-can]

#1

I think I’ve gone numb? It’s weird idk. Being on lexipro for seven years, I honestly can’t say I felt much emotionally that didn’t go away in five minutes. Even when my grandfather died, I cried at the funeral when everyone else did but then I moved on.

Now that I’ve finally got off of it, I can’t say there’s much of a difference. I know that I’ve always been emotionally challenged. People know me as bubbly and cheerful and sure that’s just how I am naturally around people, but with stress, school, feelings, anxieties, I just dismiss it and move on with no consequences. Maybe one. It’s that whole thing, I think, where you bottle up your emotions until they burst. I don’t feel shit, completely numb, for weeks until boom! Panic attack.

All the psychologists classify it as a panic disorder. Unexpected and intense panic attacks out of no where, and the lingering thought in the back of your mind saying that your gonna snap and start spiraling until you have another. I don’t know, it’s been years with this thing under my belt and I still don’t know why it’s still here. It’s probably the consistent panic attacks, so dumb so stupid, I’m not a fan. I think it stems from my stupid adhd shit, if it’s out of sight it’s out of mind until I’m reminded of the fact that I exist and have to put in effort to exist, then yay more panic. That’s why I refuse to write notes, because chances are when I look back I’ll be reminded of everything I could have remembered, and how pointless it is to try. I hate her, she’s a bitch and a good for nothing lazy asshole. Literally my emotional switch is off until one day god decides to flip it on, but only for three hours so you can hyperventilate and hysterically let it all out, self-harm or not. And then turn it right off again for another couple weeks. Can I just unscrew the plating and throw it away????? Fuck light switches. I’m tired, does that count as feelings. I’m just really really exhausted :/

[trashyswitch]

The Real Reasoning Behind All of This

Pocket is getting sick and tired of the pressure that comes with writing fanfics. So, she starts to imagine the characters she's written about, and imagines what advice they would give her and what comforting strategies they would use. And as she predicted, lots of tickles!

Pocket was growling and throwing her phone around the room. So many expectations. So many ideas given to her. She has no excuse to not write now. But she just didn’t. Want to.

She hated when she felt like this. It felt like she was letting everyone down by not pushing herself to fucking write. She knew Shannon was fine with the no writing, but were others okay with it?! Probably not.

She walked up to the fridge and was about to reach for a smirnoff.

[Alcohol doesn’t solve problems]

[Alcohol will make your life miserable]

[It’s a fake high, Pocket.]

[SUGAR]

Pocket angrily closed the fridge and grabbed some chocolate covered almonds instead. She didn’t wanna do the work...It was so much work...She hated waiting for the moments she got into hyper focus. That was the only way she would get her fanfics done at a reasonable time. She relied on those hyper focus episodes. Perhaps if she skipped out on her ADHD med, she would have more energy to do the work. But nope...The adhd med is supposed to help her focus. But the ADHD med drained all her energy. Every time she missed her pill, she would wind up with extra energy. She would be filled with adrenaline. It felt like a sugar high...Or a buzz.

Pocket had recently figured out that a buzz from alcohol was very similar to ADHD adrenaline rushes. It was a fun little fact that she found to be very interesting and yet...disappointing. Finding out the truth meant she didn’t need alcohol to experience happiness. But skipping the ADHD meds couldn’t be the answer to all her problems. There were benefits to her pill. There were days that she didn’t want to be a ball of energy. There were days that she wanted to lounge. And that pill allowed her to do that without issue.

So is being drunk like having ADHD? Maybe for her. But is ADHD like being drunk all the time without the hangover?

Who. Knows.

Pocket looked down at her dog and smiled. She was laying against her leg with her back upwards towards the ceiling. She looked like a loaf of burnt toast...with a bandana tied around her neck. She was a sleepy girl...A fun girl...A cute widdle bean. And definitely a somft girl.

Pocket began to stare off into space as she stared at the white screen on her laptop. Nothing to write...nothing.

Why was she like this? Why is she here? Why can’t she write right now?

Snoring doggo. She snores a lot.

“Hey Kiddo…” Someone said beside her.

She turned to the left, and smiled. “Hi Patton.”

“Why so down?” He asked.

“I can’t write worth my life.” She complained.

“Well, no matter what you think about your writing, I always support you and will help you when things go wrong.” Patton told her. “So tell me: What’s going wrong?” He asked.

Pocket looked down. “I have no motivation left…”

Patton nodded. “Well, you did go through a phase of writing nonstop for tickletober…” Patton reminded her.

Pocket nodded. “Yup...I just want a little more motivation left over and interest. That’s all I ask.” Pocket told him.

Patton nodded. “And motivation, you’ll get again eventually. Now is just not the time.” Patton reminded him.

“Maybe it’s time I changed what I did again…” Pocket thought.

“Changing your way of doing things, is only going to upset the 400 or so followers that you have.” Someone else said.

Pocket looked over to her right. It was William Afton.

“I know…” Pocket muttered.

“Maybe the problem is, you’re too much of a ler to play the lee.” William offered.

“Well...I’m certainly too ler to be a switch…” Pocket mentioned.

“Also, when are you gonna change your status to ‘ler’ instead of ‘switch’?” William asked.

“When are you gonna stop being manipulative?” Pocket asked the murderer in the room.

“T...Touche.” William replied as he faded away.

Soon, another person appeared. ‘Take some time for yourself. It’s what Shannon wants.’ THe person signed.

Pocket looked over and smiled brightly. It was Jamie!

“Hi Jamie!” She greeted him.

‘Hello!’ Jamie replied.

“Getting to be the time to watch your halloween video again.” Pocket mentioned.

‘Happy halloween!’ Jamie signed happily.

Pocket repeated the signs for ‘happy halloween’. She had taken a sign language course before, and learned Sign Language in her own spare time.

“I know exactly what Pocket needs! But only if you want it.” Patton offered.

Pocket smiled brightly. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Yes.” Pocket smiled.

‘Wow! You quick!’ Jamie signed.

“I’ll say!” Patton reacted.

William appeared again .“Let’s get to it then. I’m not patient when it comes to tickling.” William said.

“Alright!” Patton ran to her hips and started digging. “Just tell me-”

“BAAAHAHAHAHAHA!” Pocket yelled, laughing hysterically already.

“WOW! I must’ve hit the jackpot!” Patton reacted.

“I’ll say...She’s already a mess of laughter.” William reacted.

“MYHYHYHY HIHIHIPS AHAHARE THE WOHOHORST!” She laughed.

“You kidding me? You’ve got fuckin’ Shakira hips goin’ here.” William reacted.

Jamie hummed silently as he thought long and hard on where else to tickle…

Then he remembered that bellies exist!

Jamie smiled and started skittering his quick fingers on her belly.

“EEEEHehehehehehe! NOHOHohohoho!” She was pushing the arms away and kicking wildly.

“Awww, de poor widdle baby can’t handle de tickles!” Patton teased.

William looked up at Patton. “Is that seriously how you talk to people?” William asked.

“No!” Patton responded, rather offended. Then his face switched to a smirk. “Only when I’m teasing.”

William looked...rather terrified of the face change.

“GUHUHUHUYS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Pocket begged.

“Oh yeah…” William muttered.

Patton placed a hand on William’s shoulder. “William, William, William…” He said to him politely. “She loves this.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow. ‘Pocket kicking and pleading.’ Jamie mentioned.

Patton smiled and stopped tickling Pocket. William looked down and stopped tickling as well.

Pocket’s laughter turned to giggles and started lessening to huffs.

But then…

“Why…...why did you stop?” She asked.

William blinked and widened his eyes. “Because breathing is important.”

Patton giggled. “Told ya! I know a lee when I see one~” Patton teased.

William blushed at that and looked away.

Jamie looked at William’s blush out of the corner of his eye, and smirked. He rubbed his hands together and tickled William’s sides.

“WHOAHAHAHAHA! WHOHOHOHO-” William scooted himself away from the random tickle monster that was tickling him, and turned to see Jamie in the same spot he was in. “Oh...It was you.”

Jamie wiggled his fingers with a smirk from both the lips and the mustache.

“Uh oh…” William got himself up onto his feet and started running. Jamie wasn’t far behind him as he chased Will around the room.

Pocket watched this whole thing and giggled. It was so funny seeing the most innocent man chasing the murderer for tickles around her room.

“Now: Let’s get this lee mood dealt with.” Patton decided.

Patton started tickling Pocket again and specifically focused on the sides and belly this time. Pocket laughed and giggled as she kicked her feet and flailed her arms around all over again.

“OHohohohoho nohohohoho! Pahahahahahat!” Pocket laughed.

“Yessss?” Patton replied.

“Ihihihit tihihihicklehehes!” Pocket laughed.

OHOHO SHIHIHIT- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Someone else shouted.

Patton stopped tickling and turned around. As it would turn out, Jamie had already caught William and was now tickling the man.

“IHIHIHI- WHAHAHAHAT’S YOHOHOUR NAHAHAHAME AHAHAHAGAHAHAIN?! JAHAHAHACK??” William asked.

Jamie widened his eyes, stopped tickling him and completely lost himself in laughter. This man couldn’t even bother to remember his name right?! Wow! It’s a wonder he kept a business afloat for as long as he did!

Pocket smiled and enjoyed watching Jamie laugh his head off. It was nice to be able to imagine these characters.

“Alright. One more tickle attack, then I’m all done!” Patton decided.

Pocket nodded and opened her arms to him. Patton happily took it and tried tickling her ribs next. He started at the bottom ribs.

“EEEHEHEHE!” Pocket laughed before collapsing to the floor. It would seem that Pocket was SUPER ticklish on her lower ribs!

Patton tried moving upwards.

“PAHAHAhahahahat! Hahahahahehehe!” She laughed.

“Ooooh! Not so ticklish on your middle ribs, huh?” Patton said out loud.

“Nohohoho...Just thehehe bohohottom rihihibs.” Pocket replied.

“Good to know!” Patton started digging into her bottom ribs and focusing on the spot between the ribs too.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHA!” Pocket laughed.

Patton slowed his fingers down and stopped pushing as hard. “Your laughter...is so much different when you’re tickled! Are you faking your laugh often?” Patton asked.

“Nohoho...Ihihi juhuhust hahahave dihihifferent tihihickle lahahaughter.” Pocket told him.

“Well, good to know! I’m happy to know you’re not forcing yourself to laugh.” Patton replied.

Patton took a moment or two to look at the progress between William and Jamie. As one would probably expect, William was now getting his revenge on Jamie! And while the tickling wasn’t producing much of a laughter sound, Jamie was certainly making wheezes and visual reactions.

‘Stop stop stop stop stop!’ Jamie kept signing.

“Why would I stop? You’re clearly loving this!” William reacted.

Patton laughed at that. “Yohou’re not wrong about that.” Patton confirmed for him.

“See?” William smiled and continued to tickle Jamie for a little longer before stopping to let him breathe.

“Not so bad for a lee, huh Jamie?” William teased.

Jamie flipped him off as a response.

Aaaand that earned Jamie even more tickles.

Pocket was helped up by Patton and was given a big bear hug. “Thank you Patton.” She told him.

“No problem, Kiddo!” Patton replied.

“And thank you William and Jamie!” Pocket said next.

‘You’re welcome! Love you!’ Jamie signed.

“Glad to help kid. And for the love of god, take a break.” William ordered. “You deserve it.”

Pocket watched as the characters faded out of existence. Pocket smiled to herself, feeling a lot better. She wasn’t really motivated from the experience, but she did feel a little more inspired again. She felt like she had a better grasp of why she did these fanfics in the first place: To just have fun. And sometimes, the fun will feel like a chore...but that’s okay. It’ll get better.

Now to get these new, fresh ideas into motion before she forgets!

But quickly, a little sentence popped into her head:

[“For the love of god, take a break.”]

Yeah...Maybe he’s right. She didn’t really feel motivated to get anything more going yet. She just felt...super inspired with no energy to make it.

The brain was too tired to do what the heart wanted.

So, Pocket grabbed her laptop, turned on some Lo-fi music and decided to take a nap.

[“You deserve it.”]

This might be my last fanfic before Tickletober rolls around. So, I hope you enjoyed it!

[emiefaunwrites]

Neurodivergency headcanons for the bois?

Hey anon!

Sorry for the delay on this. I had to Google what the word meant and I've done a lot of thinking on it too.

So I don't suffer with any form of neurodivergency personally but I know a few people that do. A family member has ADHD and I'm told that as a child that I had to too. And from memories of growing up around this family member, I could easily see Leon as having ADHD too.

And I mean...Taka could have autism. But to me, as someone without autism, I wouldn't know where to begin or how to write him with it without fear of getting it wrong.

But something I do think that he has is OCD, and I had a friend growing up with OCD. I've given him couting compulsions in BA and also hinted at it in my HCs. So I think I'll stick with this.

For the purposes of this post, I'll stick with just Taka if that's okay? My posts are already super long as it is and I don't want to do an injustice to either condition by squeezing them both in one post. Therefore trigger warnings for compulsive behaviour and anger.

So. Enough on that, I'll get to it. Thank you for your ask and I hope this is okay!

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

• When he was younger, Taka was diagnosed with OCD.

• He's always had a love of numbers and tidiness, but as he got older and the bullying got worse, this love turned into compulsive behaviour.

• His toys would need to be laid out in rows of five, in perfectly symmetrical lines.

• His parents would have to give him exactly five kisses before he could settle to sleep.

• He had to knock five times before coming into a room.

• Five was an important number, or multiplications of five.

• And he would get upset if this wasn't respected.

• His parents saw it as a little quirk he developed, not thinking anything much about it.

• That is, until they found him stuck at his bedroom light one night - distressed because of a bad day at school and he couldn't concentrate on counting and so had to keep switching the lights until he could make it to one hundred without stopping.

• That's when they knew it was more than just a quirk and took him to see a doctor.

• Over the next few years, Taka managed to find ways to cope with his compulsions - managing the obsessive thoughts until he's convinced he doesn't have them anymore.

• But OCD never goes away. And will come back under stressful circumstances.

• It's around the time of their big exams of their second year that Leon starts seeing signs.

• Now that he and Taka spend most of their time together, things he'd missed in first year become more obvious.

• Taka's things are all laid out in rows of five.

• When he's at the door, he'll always knock five times.

• Taka keeps asking for more kisses before he can leave or go to sleep - exactly five.

• If Leon goes over this amount in excitement, he'll make sure to round it up to the next multiple of five.

• It doesn't concern Leon too much at first - he just attributes it to some cute things his boyfriend does.

• But the closer exams get, the more intense the compulsions get.

• Leon will hear him counting under his breath when there's nothing to count.

• He'll wake up in his room to see Taka has organised everything in rows of five.

• The five kisses are accompanied with five hugs, five I love you's, looks of frustration on his face after every one but the first.

• And he can feel an anger brewing in his boyfriend that he has no idea how to handle.

• He tries speaking to him about it but he's brushed off with excuses - he's just tired, its exam stress, Leon's just exaggerating the issue.

• But it all comes to a head on night when they're heading to bed, a week before exams start.

• Taka insists that he has to switch the light off, which Leon has no issue with - he can get comfy under the covers.

• But there's a tenseness in Taka's posture as he heads over - reaching out to switch the light off.

• Then on.

• Then off.

• Then on.

• With each flip of the switch, Leon sees Taka's shoulders hunch more and more, see his teeth grit as he counts under his breath.

• But his finger slips, interrupting the pattern - and his face twists in what looks like pain as the pattern starts again.

• Off and on and off and on, two, three, four...

• All the way to nine this time.

• And his finger slips again.

• It keeps on going - Taka's frustration making him rush and slip or lose count so he has to start all over again.

• It seems like its almost over, his counting has sped up and he's all the way to forty two.

• But his finger slips again.

• 'DAMN IT!'

• Taka roars out, slamming his fist onto the wall first and then his head before starting to cry.

• Leon can't let this continue so he gets out of bed and rests his hand over Taka's - the one resting over the light switch.

• 'How many times?'

• Silence - a look of agony and self-loathing on Taka's face.

• 'How many times, baby?'

• '...fifty.'

• 'Then lets count together. Nice and slow.'

• They stand there together, Leon couting very, very slowly as Taka cries to himself - the utter shame of his compulsions getting the better of him and having Leon see him in such a weak light becoming too much to bear.

• And as soon as they're done he spins around and sobs against Leon's neck, letting Leon rock him gently back and forth until he's calm enough to explain what's happening.

• Of course, Leon insists he contacts his dad and gets himself back in for therapy - something the doctor advised them four years ago when he was managing well.

• And of course, he does - and keeps having to do on occassion throughout his life from then on.

• And they come up with a coping mechanism together - for Leon to sit on Taka's lap in a hug and let him count the bones in his spine.

• Loudly, slowly and clearly so that he doesn't himself stuck in a loop.

• He has bad periods every now and then - but with Leon's support, he never feels alone again.

[residentofthedisc]

Very, Very Personal (and a Little Projecting) Headcanon

Ray Doyle from The Professionals is neurodivergent. 

Specifically, I’m gonna argue that the closest condition would probably be undiagnosed ADHD. 

(Also Bodie could be also ND because there’s an entire episode surrounding Bodie’s apparent PTSD which is never brought up again because of course) 

OK. Hear me out. 

- Depression.

Doyle exhibits depressive traits within the canon of the show. The Rack is probably the clearest example: he loses interest in his hobbies (i.e. not working out, his bikes, etc.), exhibits extreme guilt and self-deprecating (self-destructive) behaviours, and pulls away from support networks. In Discovered in a Graveyard, his tendencies to overthink and blame himself are well enough known by his coworkers that they question whether he’s going to fight for his own survival (and there’s an interesting little off-hand comment that Doyle ‘forgot’ to set his locks, so possibly more self-destructive behaviour) and worry about it. So, essentially, him being ND isn’t necessarily a huge stretch of logic? I mean, he could have bouts of depression and depression is a common comorbidity for people with ADHD. 

- Mood swings and extreme emotions. 

Doyle seems to fluctuate wildly between some fairly extreme moods. He’s described within the fandom itself as being mercurial. He flips a switch from utter joy to quick rage to broody self-reflection in minutes.  Now, this could indicate bipolar disorder or ADHD but as his moods have clearly defined triggers, I’d lean towards ADHD. 

- Intense emotions and moral codes. 

Doyle is described as being hot-headed and passionate and sensitive. He wears his heart on his sleeve and has a remarkably strict moral code for the job that he does. He has a real sense of right and wrong as well as an intensity of feelings to match. On it’s own, this doesn’t really mean he’s ND, but along with the other traits, it could be autism or - again - ADHD. 

- Impulsivity and reckless behaviour. 

Doyle is reckless. End of. OK, nope, let’s elaborate. 

Doyle is constantly putting himself in danger by running straight into situations without thinking. He forgets to call in if he’s found something, he speaks without thinking, and elements of his backstory could be indicative of this being a life-long trait. His ‘I cut up another kid when I was just a kid myself’ story and stories about causing trouble don’t mean that kids with ADHD are naturally violent, but that constant impulsivity and (due to other ADHD factors) difficulty in structured environments can land them in hot water. I can’t imagine a 1950s-ish school in Derby or probably Birmingham the unspecified city he grew up in would have the resources or understanding of his condition and that may have pushed him into crime and juvenile mishaps. He does point out that he joined the police to put him on the straight and narrow - perhaps showing that he needs external structure to be imposed on him to feel he’s functioning properly. 

- Hyperactivity/attention span. 

So, I’m not sure if Doyle could be considered hyperactive in the traditional sense. He is not jumping around all the time or constantly moving exactly, but I think there’s still an argument here. Whenever Doyle is waiting for something, he seems to be constantly fiddling with things; brain puzzles, reading, his own clothes, etc. All of these could be an ‘acceptable’ form of stimming he’s developed, but he does seem to have more energy than Bodie, but Bodie could just be messing him about. Similarly, the moments he’s focusing, he can be focusing intensely enough that Bodie has to repeat - possible hyperfocus? This section is probably the biggest reach. 

- Random traits because my own ADHD has completely bored me out of continuing nicely. 

* Sensory Processing Issues: very uncomfortable in suits and ties, has very specific styles and clothing materials he appears to like. Wears sunglasses a lot so possible photosensitivity (but also is likely just wanting to look cool). 

* Special interests: He seems to get quite obsessed with certain things, particularly cases and keeps picking at them even when they seem solved. (I think) Bodie occasionally mentions him ‘still going on’ about things, unrelated to the story. 

* Social difficulties: Doyle is not smooth, especially with romance. Honestly, he actually gets turned down by women more than I expected with characters like this. 

* Masking: Doyle is canonically good at undercover. Not unbelievable with being in the police, but what if he learnt this first masking his neurodiversity? 

* His long term memory is excellent. 

OK, so, long post and I am absolutely projecting because it would be really nice for my teenage hero to be both queer and neurodivergent like me, but I do think that it wouldn’t take a lot of twisting for Doyle to be diagnosed with ADHD. 

[dusksmote]

Is there any background info you can give on characters in WTSAU?

Like any cool hc you give the characters?

okay i have SO MANY 😩 but i can’t say all the best ones until later cuz they involve SPOILERS

so i’ll try to say all the ones i can with the information given:

Style:

- Kyle’s had feelings for Stan since he realized he was gay, which was in middle school. When Stan came out as bi he told Kyle first, before Wendy, even though they were dating at the time. Kyle’s insecurities prevented from acting on his feelings even after they broke up.

- Wendy has pegged Stan in the past, but Kyle is the first guy Stan’s ever been with. Wendy has come around to support their relationship since the events of ETL chapter 4.

- Stan is always the first one to say ‘I love you’.

- Kyle was the last one in their big friend group to lose his virginity, but he has one of the highest sex drives of the guys. He and Stan switch off being top almost equally, but Kyle prefers to top and Stan prefers to bottom. they fuck daily.

- When they want to have a hard, passionate fuck Kyle tops. when they want to have slow, emotional sex Stan tops. Kyle has slight sadist tendencies (inflicts pain) and Stan has masochist tendencies (receives pain). Stan is especially into breathplay (choking, face sitting, crushing, etc.) and assplay. he’s the best ass eater (so call him a bottom feeder 😂) and Kyle’s superior in the blowjob department.

- Stan has hyperhidrosis, meaning he sweats more than the average person. this is why their rooms/the truck/anywhere they fuck smells so strong. there’s a few hints for this in ETL/WTSAU, he keeps antiperspirant in his locker and in the truck, he gets really sweaty whenever they have sex. Stan also has asthma and acne, which Kyle’s been helping him treat. Kyle loves popping his zits for him.

- Conversely, Kyle is super hygienic and always tries to keep himself clean and dry. when Sharon comes into Stan’s room in chapter 1 and describes the smell, the gym locker scent is Stan, the Old Spice is Kyle, and the ‘inside of a rubber balloon’ is their latex lubricant. 

- Everyone at school considers them the obnoxious, overly romantic couple. they hold hands, cuddle, kiss, and dirty talk in front of everyone. they think they can get away with it without people noticing but they’re chronically conspicuous and not stealthy. the working title for the fanfic was actually ‘Ain’t Slick’ for a while before it changed to What They Say About Us!

- they’re fucking devoted to each other and are exclusively monogamous. Stan is especially protective of Kyle and Kyle is fiercely possessive of Stan. 

- Kyle applied as a math major in his college applications, and will eventually get a PhD for logic and set theory. Stan’s a bio major and wants to go into physical therapy.

- Stan doesn’t smoke weed out of principle (because of his dad) so Kyle also doesn’t smoke in solidarity. 

- Kyle is a type 2 diabetic, and doesn’t need to always take insulin. his weight gain began with the World of Warcraft episode and was maintained instead of lost like in the show. his weight is a cyclical feedback loop of: genetics (mom’s side of the family), too much insulin (when using insulin therapy), and diet. this led to him developing lordosis (excessive weight warps his spine) so he didn’t grow as tall as he would have, and makes his weight appear more exaggerated. short stature, weight, and body image issues led to quitting basketball which in turn contributes more to his weight. this impacts his self-worth which leads to stress eating. his biggest fear is that he’ll never stop gaining weight and will end up as big or bigger than Cartman.

- Stan has gained a few pounds since he started dating Kyle, while Kyle has lost a few.

Cutters/Bunnyman/Kenrietta:

- Kenny is straight, but has voluntarily sucked dick before. he and henrietta have hooked up a few times in the past after running into each other at poetry slam events which Kenny takes Karen to. 

- Butters and Cartman are exclusively gay, and think girls are fucking gross. they’ve only every slept with each other.

- Kenny, Cartman, and Butters are all best friends and do pretty much everything together. even though Butters and Cartman are dating, Kenny never feels like a third wheel because they rarely act romantic in front of anyone (including him). however, when Style start dating and Cutters come out about their relationship, Kenny begins feeling like a fifth wheel.

- Butters lives almost entirely at Cartman’s house. His parents actually don’t mind because they enjoy not having him around. Liane is 100% the cool mom from mean girls who asks them if they want snacks or a condom. Sometimes all three of them crash at Kenny’s house for variety (or when he has to watch Karen because his mom is drinking/out of the house).

- Kenny wants to study psychology in college and become a family therapist or social worker. he’s taking a gap year to save money then going to community college. Cartman and Butters applied to the same schools and plan to stick together long-term.

- Butters and Cartman’s relationship started as experimenting with each other as their sexualities developed, and began after Cartman confided that he had sexual feelings for Kyle. Cartman and Butters have also developed genuine feelings for each other, and overtime their relationship transformed into what it is now. because of how their relationship started, they’re very open about any sexual feelings they have for other people and have a ‘hall pass’ for friends they’re allowed to fuck if given the chance, without it considered cheating.

- Butters is a huge gossip. he will promise to keep secrets and then immediately turn around and tell Cartman--which totally happened after Kyle said he thinks Stan has a crush on him in ETL chapter 2. Butters and Cartman keep nothing from each other, and the only secrets they won’t tell are the ones about each other. 

- Kenny is the easiest of the larger friend group to confide in, and keeps every secret he’s given. he’s known Cartman and Butters have been together since the beginning, about Cartman’s crush on Kyle, and Kyle’s crush on Stan. People naturally come to him for advice and to vent. The least likely person to confide in him is Kyle, who’s more likely to curl in on himself instead of expressing his feelings.

-SO much shit about Cartman and Butters’ relationship I can’t say yet because it comes up in the fic 😩 please ask me about these two again later when i can say more!!!

Creek:

- Tweek is a dom top and Craig’s his catamite. they try to get away with sex anywhere they can and have gotten very stealthy because of it. Tweek also has one of the highest sex drives of their friend group, and Craig will let him do whatever he wants anywhere, anytime. 

- Tweek is constantly high on stimulants (cocaine, meth, adderall, etc.) and Craig experiments with him in certain settings. this is what gives Tweek his boosted self-confidence and flippant attitude. 

- Pete Thelman (hair flip goth) is their coke dealer. Tweek trades him his ADHD meds for it, which Pete resells to posers. If Tweek doesn’t have enough to cover the cost he and Craig make up the rest by giving Pete sexual favors. sometimes they have threesomes for fun too.

- Tweek and Craig both think Kyle is hot and would fuck him given the chance. being open about this with each other makes them feel closer and strengthens their relationship. they have roleplayed as Stan and Kyle in bed before while high out of their minds.

- they're deeply in love and would do anything for each other. Craig could get Tweek to stop taking drugs if he wanted to but right now they enjoy experimenting with them together. in the words of everyone who know them, ‘Tweek and Craig are perfectly fucked up for each other’. 

Kyle’s family:

- Sheila’s biggest regret as a parent is letting Kyle get fat, because she was also overweight as a kid and dealt with the same issues he does now. It’s the same reason she feels obligated to help Kyle’s cousin overcome his weight dilemma (by trying to get him and Stan to hang out).

- Ike is an eboy who loves lil peep. He, Karen, Tricia, and Firkle all make tiktoks together and complain about their gay older brothers/friends.

- random fun fact: If Ike and Karen get married that would mean Kyle and Kenny are brothers-in-law, which would mean the main five all end up as extended family to one another.

Stan’s family:

- Sharon has plans to divorce Randy but is waiting until Stan leaves for college to not uproot him from school and his friends.

- Grandpa Marsh is still kickin’ in the old folks home and Shelly’s off in college.

- Randy’s a narcissist who lives vicariously through Stan’s accomplishments in sports. the easiest way to explain it is: Randy’s not as proud of Stan for being a successful athlete and attractive jock as he is proud of himself for producing one. Stan’s ability to get laid with (he presumes) hot girls makes Randy feel like he has game too. one of the reasons he’s disgusted by Stan’s relationship with Kyle is if Stan’s fucking some big fat guy it doesn’t align with his narrative. 

-

this is just the stuff i could think of off the top of my head, i’ll probably come back and add more to this as i remember it. ask me again in a few chapters!!! i have so much i want to say about bunnyman, cutters, the future for style, and their families that i can’t say yet!

[fondnesses]

roscoe’s notebook post

A while back I said I was going to write a post about the way I use notebooks for writing projects. This is the first of several posts about Writing Process I’ve been tossing around in my drafts for a little while as a result of conversations with friends, so bear with me.

I. Love. Notebooks. I genuinely would have to deeply overhaul my whole Process of writing anything on the longer side if I were to go paperless; I find physical paper pretty invaluable when I’m outlining, brainstorming, and researching, and I still probably write ¼-⅓ of all my actual content on paper first. (That proportion used to be a lot higher, but I’ve gotten better at being productive on a computer in recent years, which is great.) I’m a very visual person, so notebooks really help me visualize my ideas, story structure, etc. It’s very helpful to be able to use arrows and diagrams and physically strike things through, and the tactility is really soothing to me. If I show people my notebooks or talk about them, I often get a response like “this is so organized”, which is sort of true, but I have to stress that it’s “organization for a disorganized mind”; I can’t misplace ideas or notes if it all goes into the same physical object, vs. electronic notes, which are much more, like “Did I say that in a voice memo? PM it to myself on Discord? Leave it in a desktop sticky note? Write it directly into the Google Doc? Who knows! It’s lost to time!”. It’s very much an ADHD management strategy.

It helps that I’m a very neophyte stationery hobbyist and appreciate any excuse I have to use my pens, but I also will go off at any opportunity about how helpful I find them for writing projects, which is why I decided to just make a post about it. Right now I mostly use them for (fan and original) fiction projects, but I used a notebook for a very similar purpose when I was working on my undergrad thesis, and I have a slightly different but equally necessary-to-me approach to notebooks I use at work.

My typical structure for a notebook that’s devoted to one project only looks like this:

I always leave the first couple pages blank so I can go back and retroactively index bujo-style. I don’t always actually do the index, because sometimes I get too lazy, but I like having those blank pages there to give me the option. I also usually put epigraphs/inspo quotes on the first page.

After that, there’s often (but not always, I’ll talk about it) a couple pages at the start where I’m frantically jotting down loose brainstorming ideas before they've coagulated into a story structure. Just, like, vomiting into the void.

Stemming out of that, I usually write out about like 5-10 pages of outline-style notes in chronological order, laying out all the main story beats and charting out the story trajectory. This will inevitably get revised and rewritten many times, but I find the process of writing these wide-angle synopses really useful for dislodging ideas, making connections re: thematic threads, etc. from my brain.

I’ll devote a couple pages after that to specific things like "sex scene brainstorming", "random scene ideas/minor details that don't have a clear place in the outline right now but I'll turn to for inspo later" [this is what I refer to as “bits” in one of the later photos], "page where I just outline the Motifs And Themes", "research notes", "to-do list", "stuff to check on a second pass", "things to put in the a/n and AO3 tags", etc.--the specifics vary with the story.

Then, I skip ahead to approx. halfway through the notebook and cordon off the rest of the pages to be “free writing” space, AKA writing of actual content rather than planning, with the expectation there will be no internal organization and I’ll transcribe to laptop as I go. Writing on paper feels less binding than typing something on a computer; it’s like a little secret kept with myself, and it doesn’t need to go anywhere or be seen by anyone if I decide I don’t like it. Setting aside pages in the back half of the notebook means that, as more things come up re: planning, I can go back and add those in the rest of the pages that were intentionally left blank. This is how I avoid (for the most part) having the whole thing be a jumbled mess where there’s no separation between the notes and the actual story writing; I learned this the hard way via the first notebook I’ll show you in a second. I’ve recently gotten really into using Muji sticky note tabs to label any pages/sections of particular import that don't want to have to refer back to in the index and would rather just flip to instantly.

I do use notebooks that aren’t specific to any one project, but those are much less organized and less worth sharing.

Before I look at more recent stuff, here are some selections from my notebook for the project that got me into writing longfic, my Golden Kamuy canon divergence AU (with apologies for the bad photos, my phone’s camera is trash). I worked on this from Sept 2018-July 2019. It was a learning experience in a lot of ways, and notebook utilization was one of those. I’ve always used notebooks for keeping track of writing projects, as I said earlier, but before this it was largely without much organization or structure; just total chaos. Having a physical notebook became really important for this project because it was a sprawling multichapter story with rotating POVs and a lot of historical research. I also learned a lot about what not to do with a notebook, personally, or at least things that don’t work so well (for me). This was a college ruled spiral-bound Decomposition Book, for the record.

By the time I bought a notebook for it I already had a (very basic) plot outline in mind, so I wasn’t doing that very initial ground-zero brainstorming in here; I was copying out of my phone’s notes app, basically, and then going from there. 

This is one of the first pages in this notebook; I wanted to visualize the relationship web between the four central characters in the story in terms of how they feel about one another. The two colours correspond to the POV characters (Sugimoto in orange, Ogata in pink), and I used this colour-coding throughout the notebook with highlighters, etc. to keep track of information that was more relevant to one character than the other. Tsurumi and Yuusaku aren’t POV characters, but they’re prominent in the story and their presence impacts the central relationship between Sugimoto and Ogata, and it was helpful to me to map out the emotional ecosystem, as it were.

(There are coffee stains all over this, because I wrote the vast majority of the story in coffee shops because I didn’t want to be around my roommates, lol. This is part of why I never do fiction writing in notebooks that are too nice, I get neurotic about needing to keep them tidy. I can’t use ones that are too shit though, either, so it’s a bit of a narrow window. I’ll talk more about brands and paper quality etc. later.)

As you can see, this is the first page of many I set aside specifically for jotting down different pieces of historical information relevant to my story. It’s about fictional characters who are members of an army division that existed in real life, and both the canon and my fic involve a high level of attention to detail with regards to which divisions were present for which battles, etc., as well as general historical details specific to the Russo-Japanese War setting--what did people eat in the trenches? What did they do to fill time? How did they get through the winter? What did third party observers have to say about the conditions? What were the specs of their weaponry (particularly important because one of the POV characters is a sniper and gun nut)? I did a lot of reading (and watching of antique gun collector Youtube videos... the things I do for love, eh), and it came in handy so many times, because it turns out it’s much easier to write trench warfare slice of life if you have factual details to pull from when you don’t know what to do with a scene! Imagine that!

This is the first of three “grid outlines” I made; this is a way I sometimes like to visualize a story outline all on one page, with the columns representing chapters and the squares within the columns representing sections/scenes within the chapters. As you can see, early on I was hoping to get this done in five or even FOUR chapters (whatmakesyouhaha.mp3), with POV switches happening internally within the chapters. This proved to be unwieldy for many reasons, so I revised the outline:

Here I’d come to terms with the fact this story was going to have a lot more chapters than I’d planned, and I rearranged things so that it would happen in ten, with each chapter belonging to only one POV character. This also needed revising later, and in the end the story looked a bit more like this (though it did in fact end up being twelve chapters, but only because Chapter Ten was like, 12k, and needed to be split in two chunks):

I must have remembered to bring my fineliners to the coffee shop this time, lol, because as you can see it’s properly colour-coded this time. This outline was made when I was already four posted chapters into the fic, which hopefully gives you a sense of the way in which I am sort of a planner and a pantser; I can’t get into a longer project without an outline, but the outline inevitably changes many times throughout writing and I often end up with a finished product that looks pretty different from what I was intending. My creative M.O. as always is Do The Maximum! Amount! Of! Work! Possible!

This is what a “free writing” page looks like, for me. In this notebook I didn’t set aside any specific spaces for free writing so it’s strewn throughout the notebook in a really disorganized way and I was constantly flipping through looking for bits I’d written and forgotten to transcribe, and I decided to be more organized in future as a result of that. If something’s crossed through, that means I transcribed it. As you can see, they’re often small sections, sometimes just a coupled decontextualized sentences. About 3/4 of what I write in a notebook makes it into the story, I’d say; some of it never goes anywhere, and that’s OK. I have less of an issue killing my darlings if they never make it off the paper page.

A very brief, top-down chapter outline, where the goal was not to get too bogged down in details and just to visualize the beats and pin down what they’re trying to accomplish. Chapters for this fic typically ran about 6k, and five or six scenes per chapter was pretty common, so the average scene length was about 1-1.25k words/scene. IDK why I called it storyboarding when I didn’t make drawings. (Margin numbers are to keep track of word count, since I was using a daily word count tracker while writing this.)

This page was, as titled, for keeping track of the various balls in the air when I was about 2/3-3/4 of the way through the story and really feeling the pressure with regards to tying up the various loose ends. This was... a struggle. I hadn’t ever written anything longish (this fic ended up just under 70k) that had an action plot before, let alone a canon divergence scenario where I had to engage with and explain away various canon plot elements so I could maintain the audience’s suspension of disbelief.

Now, I mentioned earlier that I learned various “things not to do” with my notebooks while working on that project. One of those lessons I learned is to be more realistic when assessing how big a project is likely to get, not least because I RAN OUT OF PAGES around the chapter 9-10 mark. In my defense though, that’s because I’d never written anything even half this long! But I know better now, and try not to be in denial. Finishing the notebook early was a way bigger problem than I’d anticipated, and was part of the reason the last few chapters took several grueling months to finish. The issue was that I needed to be able to use a notebook to maintain my workflow--attempting to do it only on a computer was dismal--but it seemed silly to start a notebook of a similar size to the one I’d finished (80pg, approximately B5 dimensions) when there was no way it would need that much space, especially since the reference pages, like the historical notes, didn’t need to be transcribed over. I was also pretty broke at the time and didn’t want to spend money unnecessarily, lol. I tried to get by using a Moleskine Cahier for a month or so because I had one lying around, but it was horrid; it was too small to be used comfortably, it wasn’t spiral-bound so it wouldn’t lay flat, the ghosting is terrible and I hate the way Moleskine paper feels, etc. Eventually I caved and went to Muji and bought a 30ish page A5 with closer to lay-flat binding, and I finished the story in there. I would take a comparative pic for you of the relative notebook sizes and include some of the scene staging diagrams, etc. I put in there, but I can’t find it :(

So I learned that specs really do matter, and it’s okay to be picky if the pickiness is going to make the difference between actually using a notebook or not. Things that are important to me in my notebooks:

Ruling (gotta have ruling, I can suffer through grid but blank or dot is a no-go)

Size (I can’t use anything smaller than at least a medium-large notebook, I find it claustrophobic and get miserly about page space)

Binding (twin ring is my preference because it looks and feels better than a classic spiral but has the same comfort of use with regards to bending the pages back to suit workspace size and laying flat with ease)

Paper quality and colour (I don’t like anything too slippery/smooth or with too much visible ghosting, and I strongly prefer an off-white paper to bleached paper--part of why I don’t use Decomposition Books anymore, the paper is scratchy and it’s too damn bleached!)

Pagecount relative to size of project

Portability (in non-COVID times; anything bigger than a B5 wouldn’t fit in the satchel I used to bring to work at my old job), etc.

But everyone’s taste is different in this respect, and the only way to figure out what works for you is through trial and error, I’m afraid. I also suspect I’m more neurotic and particular about the sensory experience of using a notebook than most people are, but I yam what I yam.

Now to talk about the notebooks for my current projects, where I’ve refined my approach somewhat. I’ve included less photos for these because they’re ongoing WIPs I don’t want to spoil completely, but I’ve tried to include some outline-type stuff to give you an idea.

My big bang fic is in the very ugly twin ring notebook on the right; I got it at a dollar store by my house because I needed something to work in and didn’t want to wait for an online order, but it’s been very serviceable for my needs. The paper isn’t even bad. The bigger notebook (B5) is my Sangcheng fic.

I wanted something with a lot of pages for this, because I knew it was going to be a long story, and for some reason the fact it’s smaller than my usual preference doesn’t bug me (I think it’s an A5?); it just fits this story, somehow. I’m not sure exactly how many sheets are in here but I’d guess about 150.

Because this notebook has upwards of 100 sheets, I made a lot of use of sticky-note tabs to label high-priority pages. The colour coding of these doesn’t mean anything, it was just whichever ones I had at hand at any given moment. These are those tabs from Muji I mentioned, I’m really obsessed with them--the shape makes them so much less obtrusive and more practical than conventional squares/rectangles OR flag shapes, IME.

My big bang story is nonlinear, so, similarly to what I did with colour coding for the two POVs for my GK fic, this story has two main colours corresponding to whether a given section takes place in the “before” or the “after” portions of the timeline, with blue as “after”, yellow as “before”. This is what the most current version of the outline looks like in there:

If you squint, you can see the alphanumeric notes in the top right of each section entry; I gave them each a code like “A3″ or “B5″ corresponding to their position in the story sequence (so, it goes A1, B1, A2, B2, etc., through to B9 and then the epilogue). [Unintentional that this schema overlaps with notebook size labeling and so is kind of confusing in the context of this post.] At first I was just keeping track of the sections via the highlighted titles, but it got confusing because I’d write down “Wedding” or “Yiling” in my notes and then refer to the notes later like “but there are multiple marriages?? and multiple scenes in Yiling??”. Stuff gets struck through with a straight line if it’s been written in a more-or-less complete form and crossed out with a squiggly line if it’s been cut from the outline or made redundant.

As I said earlier, I started out all the initial brainstorming for my Sangcheng fic in its notebook, instead of brainstorming it in someone’s DMs/my notes app/a voice memo/etc. and then transcribing it into the notebook in a somewhat more organized fashion, which is how my stories usually start out. Because of this, the first five-ish pages are basically just stream of consciousness rambling where I was trying to jot down every disconnected thought I had about the story concept. I don’t have photos for that because it’s too spoilerific for later developments in the fic, but I can show you some of the stages the outlines went through, once I was able to corral those initial notes into a story structure:

All the chapters in this fic have their own highlighter colour, so when I started trying to make sense of my initial brainstorm notes I just went through and highlighted stuff in the colour of the chapter it would make the most sense for, and then transcribed things more-or-less in chronological order into the relevant chapter outline. I later ended up rewriting all the chapter outlines AGAIN to refine them and divide them internally by the individual scenes, which makes them a lot more legible and less wall-of-text-y. They look like this now, with about four sheets per chapter:

Because this fic is on the longer side, I have some pages that are just for keeping track of other story elements, like this, where I refer back to whatever the fuck the “themes” are supposed to be whenever I forget what this fic is about:

It’s all about the visionboarding... Anyway, that’s most of what I have to offer, since most of these two notebooks is Forbidden Content.

With regards to brands/supplies, I really like this Kokuyo Campus Wide notebook that I’m writing Sangcheng in, it’s pretty perfect for me. I also like the B5 Muji twin rings, but those only come in 30 sheets, so I wouldn’t use it for anything above a ~20k project. The B5 Maruman Spiral Note 6.5mm ruled/80 sheet is another good one, though I wish it was twin ring instead of spiral. As you can tell, I like Japanese stationery brands because it’s easier to find decent paper quality and minimalist design without shelling out $$ than it is with American/European brands, at least IME. I like Rollbahns too. But honestly, I can usually find pretty serviceable random notebooks that aren’t brand-name from Asian dollar stores; it’s really not something where you need to shell out tons of money.

[sparkwhorunswithwolves]

“The next day Scott apologizes to Allison, who’s a little bit upset. But hey, Scott’s a werewolf, so I mean, what are you gonna do, say no?”

//

Of all the things that confused me for a long time, among the most confusing was Scott/Posey Stans’ simultaneously held beliefs that Scott McCall would be the bestest werewolf ever and yet somehow remain a toxic human disaster worthy of pity. All the things that make Scott McCall that disaster – his insecurities, his lack of empathy, his bigotry, his hypocrisy, his abusive tendencies and behavior, his possessive instincts – also make him an absolute horror as a werewolf.

How many times did Scott lash out in anger at people he professed to care about just because they didn’t do what he wanted them to do? How many times did Scott lie and conceal important information from others for his own benefit? How many times did Scott’s mother, girlfriends and friends complain about not being able to help if they don’t know? How many times did Scott charge headlong into situations with no plan whatsoever solely focused on fulfilling his own emotional needs? If it wasn’t for Stiles and Derek, Scott would have been killed off by the hunters and by Peter Hale after exposing his own kind during one of his jealous fits/dick measuring contests with Jackson in Season 1. If it wasn’t for Stiles and Derek, Scott would have hurt Allison and killed Jackson out of jealousy.

Scott knew that becoming a werewolf gave him the power to protect the people he cares about (which includes managing their image of him) and the power to force said protection on them. Teen Wolf S5A and B proved that Scott McCall will lie and manipulate and cheat and gaslight and commit premeditated murder to keep things under his control until he can’t any more; then he’ll explode, whine, throw another one of his self important temper tantrums, and attempt to blame others for his own failures. Why do you think Scott McCall’s body count is higher then the villains’?

Remember how Scott reacted when he found out that Isaac liked Allison? Isaac was a goner the moment he interacted with “HIS” woman. Scott never ever had the slightest hesitation (or any regret) about physically punishing him. Dead man walking. In fact, the only reason Scott stopped abusing Isaac in front of Melissa was because he started preying on the new girl on campus and, quoting Tyler Posey’s own words, “Kira is a good distraction for Scott.”

Perhaps that’s what Scott stans mean when they wax lyrical over how much of an incredible wolf and ‘true alpha’ Scott makes in self-insert Scott McCall Supremacist fan fiction after self insert Scott McCall Supremacist fan fiction: they admire how many innocent people Scott murders and how many abuse victims Scott maims, abuses and violates while working out his delusions of grandeur, pathological jealousy and emotional issues.

Scott McCall had that 10-episode span where he plotted/conspired with Deaton and Gerard Argent against Derek Hale and his Pack behind everyone’s back; which culminated in self proclaimed hero and ruler of Beacon Hills Scott violating Derek’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent and committing premeditated attempted murder just because: “He threatened my mom! I had no choice!”

And yet, the Scott McCall defense squad trolls are adamant that Scott immediately flipped an emotional control switch and resolved all his issues. Of course Scott McCall wouldn’t lash out and savagely attack the moment his friends chose to kick his whiny ass to the curb for good or suggested that Scott didn’t have the right to make their decisions for them. Nope! Ice-cold control. Clear loyalties, superior morality and leadership skills. A good, nurturing friend, boyfriend and werewolf and a true blessing to the pack. /sarcasm

While canon shows us that Scott McCall is a flop wolf (even his only beta Liam and his girlfriend Malia called him a failure to his face in Season 5), everything in canon confirms that Stiles Stilinski would make a magnificent werewolf. Born Wolf Peter Hale has always known this – that’s why he offers Stiles the Bite in Season 1 and then shamelessly admits that he NEVER stopped fantasizing about biting/turning Stiles in Season 6.

In conclusion: if Teen Wolf had revolved around the Hale Pack and family and werewolf Stiles and/or Dark Stiles & Void Stiles like viewers wanted, it would have been a better and much more interesting show than whatever Scott/Posey crap-show we got (and it would have lasted longer, too.)

The Teen Wolf writers and producers should have killed Scott McCall off in Season 1 Episode 1 and replaced him with Vernon Boyd or Kira Yukimura instead.

~•~

https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/623259473284399104/another-thing-fandom-claims-a-story-about-the#notes There. Fixed it for you canon and reality wise @ princeescaluswords

---

Ohhh, do I have opinions about… all of those things. So, in no particular order:

Hale pack; Hale pack 2.0; werewolf Stiles; pretty sure I answered Boyd as the MC before; Kira; 

Did I ever actually post that TW would have to deal with fundamentally different themes if Stiles/Allion were bitten instead or did I just go nope NaNo project?

Okay, let’s see, how would a show that actually focused on worldbuilding, werewolf dynamics/culture outside of “I’m the alpha now”, and pack-as-family be more interesting than a show about what is either the most hilariously bad excuse for a Good Guy™, or an unsatisfying good guy turned villain story that didn’t realise that we were actually interested in the character’s lives outside of Scott?

With the Hale pack 2.0, the show would be about rebuilding that, about human and werewolf norms clashing, and finding a middle ground that isn’t “you’ll heal/werewolves made them do it”.

Because TW does have so much potential for all those things, but Scott’s not interested in them unless it directly affects or benefits him; but we never see non-abusive pack dynamics.

And this might just be because I grew up with wolfblood/still haven’t finished the order, but actually seeing that kind of pack bonding/history outside of “let’s save the day” is so much more interesting. 

-

Werewolf!Stiles is interesting, because I can and have seen it both ways with a pretty even split?

(I’ve also answered Stiles saying yes to the bbite at least twice now, and that answer hasn’t changed. Unless it’s time travel. post5a/b Stiles asking Peter or Derek for the bite would be hilarious.)

First off, “Stiles would kill everyone he lies about giving a shit about!1!1!” is absolutely hilarious, given that Scott was the one who tried to kill Stiles, hurt and only didn’t kill Jackson because Derek and Stiles interfered, hurt Isaac, because of “control issues”. But sure, Stiles is the one who would kill everyone on sight. /sarcasm

Okay, so. Stiles wants to be part of this world, does everything he can to learn about it and knows when you can’t do something because werewolves. He has also shown that he’s willing to make sacrifices (skipping the lacrosse game in 1x9(?)/Eichen House in 3b/the relationship with his dad) if it meant keeping people safe, because he knew not doing those things would hurt people more than they could benefit him. 

(Meanwhile we have Scott “being bullied” into playing lacrosse/not caring if The Darkness™ hurt anyone— Isaac or anyone at school/lied to his mom, Allison, Kira constantly. Go figure)

Other than that, I honestly can’t tell how much control I would want canon!Stiles to have. Because with fic, I could go either way, for obvious I need to fixate on something other than adhd and werewolves, please, reasons, but canon? I don’t think perfect control on at least the first full moon is something that's actually possible given, you know, canon. And depending on if you go with Stiles being bitten instead of Scott, it’s not a particularly interesting story. 

But everything in canon suggests that he would be self aware enough to know that, and not go to a party like a certain other person I will not name here. 

-

But that’s one of the main— issues I have with this line of thinking. It’s always how would this compare to Scott. You always outdo the other, when you can’t really compare it in the sense they are both very different people, who are going to handle the same situation very differently. Scott’s go to response when Shit Happens is to avoid it for as long as possible by distracting himself with school/lacrosse/gf of the season; while, despite for that throwaway line, Stiles always needs to be there— he researches werewolves, stalks Theo, helps the Hales. 

As I said before, neither is the most thought out or safe option, both are a normal response, but you can’t— It’s hard to compare them because Scott got bitten “because of” Stiles, and didn’t have any how to werewolf 101 he really listened to. While with Stiles it’s either a) him getting “himself” bitten that night and being excited about it, b) him wanting the bite, knowing what to expect, with a lot less trauma, c) getting bitten without consent but with that understanding of what is happening. 

-

Now, Kira’s story is something I would pay good money to actually see done right. Because can you imagine of they did kill off Scott in 3a, and Kira had to navigate a) BH’s drama, b) coming into her own powers, c) actually dealing with not being fucking told about that, and d) not being fucking lied to end just getting yeeted into the desert?

[scotch-and-roses]

I wish I could just throw myself into my work to deal with my grief. Unfortunately ADHD and trouble focusing has not been helped by dealing with grief. I’ll start to hyperfocus, then have an intrusive thought about “why hasn’t the Princess come over to yell at me for not having gone to bed yet?” or I’ll look over at the bed expecting to see her curled up asleep to give myself a boost of warmth/comfort, and instead be confronted by an empty bed. Logically I knew that this would happen eventually. She had kidney disease and it wasn’t ever going to get better. I just really hoped that it wouldn’t happen while I was in grad school. I knew that coping with the loss of her while undergoing the stress of grad school would be amazingly difficult, and the idea terrified me. Just thinking of the day that I would lose her was enough to send me into tears. And the reality is that some days feel impossible to get through. And I haven’t figured out a way to keep myself together and productive when I hit those walls. Instead I just kinda fall apart. And I’m still so behind on my work from the migraines at the beginning of the quarter. I am literally down to the wire now. And I just keep alternating between feeling numb and feeling shattered. I have been pulling out of it more, feeling more functional again. There’s just so much all at once. I need to completely rebuild myself in some ways, and I just haven’t had the time or space to do that. And everything is suffering as a result. She was my emotional support/touchstone and this being that loved me and that I loved and cared for and having that routine gave me more purpose and I built my routines around her needs. Not having that framework has left me feeling extremely untethered. And I’m sorry y’all for having to deal with the constant stream of me talking about this, I appreciate the support and love you’ve all shown. This is just part of me processing really. Writing things out helps get it out of my head/helps me to work through the emotions. I just keep hoping that it won’t be real. It doesn’t feel like it should be real. I miss her so damn much. And there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it. The last time I was apart from her for so long was when I was at Reed and lived in the dorms and she stayed with papa. But papa and I talked nearly every day so I’d get daily kitty updates and pictures sometimes. And she was always waiting for me when I got home from school. But this isn’t like that. She isn’t just somewhere else, waiting for me to come home. She’s gone. And now matter how badly I want that to not be the case, that’s how it is. She’s just gone. And I hate it. I wish so badly that I could hold her again and feel her warmth and softness and hear her purr. And it’s never going to happen. Sure, there will be other cats in my life again at some point. But they’ll never be her. I think my earliest memory is from about the age of 3. I’m 28 now, which means I have approximately 25 years of memories. I had Princess for 13 years. That means that over half of my life that I remember she was a part of. She was part of my family and one of the beings that I cared the most about in this world. Most of my friends have not been in my life for as long as she was at this point. She was this huge, important part of my life. And now that’s gone. I have the memories, and I cherish them. But it’s not the same. When I come home from a bad day I don’t have her to come sit on me and purr or take a nap with her curled up against my chest. And it’s just all these compounding things. Going through stress with school, or relationship drama, or worrying about financial stuff, and then not having my fuzzy creature that gave me comfort just takes that stress or whatever and then piles grief on top of it. Until I feel like I can’t breathe, like I’m drowning. Part of me wants to just give in. Give in to the depression, to just curl up and give up on trying to be productive and functional. To just blow off my work, my classes, everything. Because it is so hard. And I feel like my professors are being patient, but are also annoyed with me. And I don’t know how to explain to them how much I’m struggling. That I’m trying, but it’s all just so much and I am barely staying functional. Just doing the daily things that I need to do like eating and showering, keeping the apartment relatively orderly so that I’m not being a horrible roommate, they take so much energy right now. Going to class, grading, doing assignments on top of that is incredibly difficult. And I keep emailing them apologizing for the migraines, for missing class again and again because of them, and because some days the grief is too overwhelming. And I’m just terrified that they’re going to respond with “no, you’ve missed too much, you haven’t done enough, that’s not a valid reason, do better” and that I’m going to fail. I don’t want to. As tempting as it is to give up sometimes, I don’t want to. For one thing, Princess would be pissed. She hated when I was depressed. And this goddamn paper is now three hours overdue and I am torn between trying to pull myself out of this spiral and finishing it tonight like I planned or emailing the professor and once again begging for understanding and more time. It was a month two days ago since I lost her. And the pain is still tearing me apart. But I feel like emailing the professor and asking for more time again, that she’ll dismiss me. That because it’s been a month I shouldn’t be having these breakdowns anymore. That I should be better. And I think I’m slowly getting better. But I’m not better. I’m still a mess of tears and snot and emotions and I’m still trying to figure out how to piece my life back together. And I’m so tired. God I’m so tired. This is exhausting. I’ve always been a very emotional person, I joke that on a dial of 1-10, my emotions are turned up to 11. I feel a lot of things and I feel them very strongly. I love fiercely and strongly, and likewise I feel grief in the same way. And it is so draining. And Princess was my battery pack, she helped me recharge. And learning how to function without that, figuring out how to compensate for that loss, is overwhelming. And I can’t help wishing I could go back. Take her to the vet sooner. Spend more time with her. Something. Anything. And I can’t. And it sucks. So much. I just keep blaming myself. If I’d done more or something different. If I hadn’t spent so much time hanging out with friends away from home. If I’d been more diligent in her diet. If I’d seen about getting her some kind of medication. Anything to give myself more time with her. And I could have, at the end. She could have been hospitalized, had her kidneys completely flushed, been placed on fluids and things for multiple days. But her levels were so high that it would have been temporary. A way to get her feeling a little better for who knows how long just so that I could have more time. And that felt wrong. It felt wrong to put her through that just so that I didn’t have to say goodbye so soon. And I hate that I wish I had. Because I miss her so goddamn much and would give anything right now to have more time. Even though it would have meant her possibly suffering and me going into thousands of dollars of debt. And I know I made the right choice. But god it was so hard. And I wish I never had to make it. And for the last 13 years she’s been here to help me through hard times like this. When I’m crying in the middle of the night and don’t have anyone to talk to, don’t want to bother anyone, I had her. And it feels like I’m just stuck in this horrible loop where I miss her and it hurts, and I want to cuddle her because that’s how I’ve dealt with similar pain in the past, but she’s gone so I can’t, and it hurts more, and it just keeps going until I’m curled up on the bed, sobbing, with my arms wrapped around me because it feels like if I don’t physically hold myself together I’ll shatter into a million pieces. And I sob until I’m gasping for breath and I can’t see a way through the pain. I don’t know how to make it stop. Papa keeps telling me to “compartmentalize” and “just cherish the memories”. And I want to scream because that’s not how I work. If I could just flip a switch like that or tuck things into neat boxes, don’t you think I would? I don’t want to feel like I’m drowning. But I can’t just turn off my emotions or decide to feel something different. And he criticizes me for being so open, so giving of myself, for investing so much. And maybe it is a flaw, maybe I do need to work on closing myself off more. Perhaps I need to find ways to temper myself. But I feel like that’s work to be done when I’m not in the middle of emotional upheaval. I can only do so much at one time. And right now I’m at capacity, I’m over capacity really. So tired. Both physically and mentally/emotionally right now. I don’t want to email my professor, but I think I have to. Dammit. 

[bigskydreaming]

Kinda curious if anyone else with ADHD has this experience:

So, I like to play music in the background while I work and write and do stuff a lot of the time, but even when I turn on a pre-selected playlist and set it to random, normally I’ll take forever to actually get started on what I was doing. Because see, first I have to put on the RIGHT song to start with, and when that finishes I have to switch to the NEXT right song. So effectively, I’ll end up clicking next song like, twenty times in a row, shuffling through til one starts playing and I’m like oh okay yeah, this is the one I wanted, this feels right. And only then will I start working.

And it doesn’t work to just think of my favorite song and make sure I start on that one, because I don’t HAVE a favorite song and the more I try and think okay which is my favorite, gotta pick one, gotta get started, the more indecisive I become. I can’t just zero in on a destination song, its like it HAS to be random, but it also has to ‘click’, so instead I just hit shuffle and next and randomly switch up selections until it lands on one that makes that click feeling in my head.

And it doesn’t matter that because its a playlist, EVERY song on it is one I normally like anyway, like, its not about it just being a song I like, but the RIGHT song I like, lol.

But as long as I’m on my medication, this is also like, the easiest and most reliable way for me to know when my Adderall kicks in and when it wears off too. Because it doesn’t work instantly for me, its gotta get into my system first, so I’ll usually take my pill, turn on my playlist and settle in to work. But knowing like...I’m going to be flipping through songs for at least a few minutes first....and the second my Adderall kicks in and starts working for me, I just KNOW, because without fail, that’s the second that whatever little thing going on in my brain that makes me dissatisfied with 99% of the songs I like on my playlist....that’s when that switch is just flipped off and I can just sit back and start working without another thought about it. Suddenly, my brain remembers ‘oh, I like ALL of these songs and it really doesn’t matter which one is playing, its not like the music is the point anyway, any one of them is just as suitable for this as any other, so I don’t actually need to worry about this or make a big deal about choosing.’ 

And I don’t feel a need to touch it again, no matter how many songs it goes through, until my Adderall starts to wear off. And I always know when that is, because that’s when my brain starts getting picky about it again, distracted by my music and obsessing about wait, do I really want to be listening to THIS song, or is there another, better one?

Anyone else have a similar thing?

(Kinda funny, even though this is a relatively small thing, its the thing that actually was my breakthrough with my ADHD, like accepting that it was real and that medication was necessary and helpful. Like cuz of how I was raised and how my parents were like therapy and psychiatry and medication and all that are useless and bad and you just need to have more WILLPOWER and not be lazy and flaky, like, I had a deepseated mistrust of mental health diagnoses well into my twenties. Oh I believed ADHD was a thing, but it was a thing other people had, me, I was just lazy. It was only when a psychiatrist finally got me to agree to try medication that I was like, oh, hello, lol, and it was actually this simple thing. It’d bugged me for years and years that I was so damn picky about background music and made such an unnecessary big deal out of it, and the fact that one little pill did in minutes what I’d obsessed for years about not being able to do with willpower, lol, like....that was what made the lightbulb go on as I realized...oh...huh. I actually DO have willpower, I just...also have funky brain chemistry that needs medication to balance out. Good to know! LMAO.)

[kaycares22]

when you see this, post an excerpt from a wip

It’s 8 o’clock on a Tuesday night, and the bar is mostly empty. A guy in a suit nursing three fingers worth of bourbon, a man and a woman who are seemingly together but both buried in their phones, two retirees with empty plates and empty beers sticking around for the conclusion of Game 3 of the World Series, a group of co-eds at one of the high tops. It’s halfway between San Francisco and Beacon Hills and hasn’t hosted a full house crowd since the 80s, which makes it perfect. Stiles picks a spot off to the side and slides onto a stool.

Before he’s even settled in, the bartender flashes him a smile and slips a cocktail napkin in front of his place. “Can I get you anything?” He opens his mouth to respond, but he’s quickly distracted by the TV screen on the opposite wall where the first baseman is about to make the final out of the night. She follows his line of sight, twisting around to watch the ball land perfectly in his glove. End of Game 3. A little ways down the bar, the two retirees grunt their approval, and the bartender swivels back around with an even wider smile. “Especially now that we’re celebrating.

Stiles raises an eyebrow in silent protest. “Celebrating?”

She mirrors his expression as she leans a little closer and says, “You live in California, and you’re going to root against the Angels?”

“My mom grew up in Chicago,” he says, holding up his hands in a what can you do? gesture.

“You’re rooting for the Cubs?” She scrunches up her nose in disapproval, and he gives a second shrug of his shoulders. “Well I might have to ask you to leave then. Want to order anything while I make up my mind?”

“Coors? Please.” The bartender nods and taps the surface of the bar twice before moving away.

Alone, Stiles pulls his phone and checks it. It’s now 8:04. He glances over his shoulder at the door, then back down at his phone, the screen still blank. His foot starts tapping against the rung of his stool, just a little faster than the song playing in the bar. It’s been years since he took something for his ADHD, but something itches beneath his skin as he glances down at his phone in time to watch the time flip over to 8:05. Then he glances over his shoulder again.

“So.”

Stiles’s head whips back at the sound. The bartender sets the bottle in front of him, lips pursed in whatever question comes next. About Chicago… he can practically hear her say. He’ll laugh and give another shrug as he recounts the story of his grandparents, Polish immigrants, who settled in the only major city in the Midwest teeming with reminders of home. About his mother who couldn’t wait to escape the miles of cornfields she grew up surrounded by. About his father stationed on the coast, the furthest thing from a cornfield. Because there’s no better time than 8 o’clock (8:06) on a Tuesday to spill your life story to a complete stranger. But she’s cut off by a gasp from somewhere behind Stiles, and one of those coeds is suddenly dangerously close to invading his personal space.

“Can you turn it up?” she breathes, blue eyes wide. “They’re talking about it.”

He follows her line of sight to the TV in the corner. The game is over, replaced by the nightly news. On the screen, a reporter talks to the camera, the US Capitol building a backsplash behind her. Stiles’s stomach wastes no time forming a thick, tight knot.

“It’s muted,” the bartender deadpans, but if the blonde notices, she doesn’t let on, as she nods eagerly. The bartender stares for another minute before she sighs and moves away to adjust the volume until the TV starts to compete with the Bruce Springsteen song still playing overhead.

“…has garnered a surprising amount of support in the last year, Ron,” the reporter says onscreen. “But there’s still a lot of upheaval over this controversial issue, especially outside of California.”

The image changes to a hallway somewhere, a middle-aged woman in a red dress now standing with a microphone in front of her face. “It’s just not safe. Who knows what those… those things are capable of?” She punctuates the question with a shiver, like she’s physically ridding herself of the thought.

Again, the camera switches to a slightly older man in a suit. “This is a slippery slope,” he says, wagging his finger at the camera in a way that probably won’t get him the re-election votes he thinks it will. “Pretty soon, people will be demanding rights for their pet goldfish. And what then?”

Stiles snorts at the irony of the guy’s statement, unintentionally breaking the silence that had settled over the bar.

“He’s right, you know,” one of the retirees says as he wags his finger in the same way, first at Stiles, then back at the TV. Stiles feels grateful when the stranger turns his attention back to his friend and busies himself with picking at the corner of his bottle’s label while still listening in. “We don’t know where this ends. And they’ll spread - like an infection. And how will we even know? You can’t tell by lookin’ at ‘em!”

“It’s almost like they’re just like us,” Stiles mutters under his breath as he works a corner loose. He didn’t realize the bartender had drifted back his direction, not until she leans forward and presses her elbows against the bar, also dangerously close to invading his personal space.

“They bothering you?”

He shakes his head. “They’re just -” But she cuts him off with a sigh.

“I’m just tired of it, y’know? Like I’m 28, and this hasn’t even been a thing till now. Couldn’t they have just stayed wherever it was they were?” Her words drip with empathy, and Stiles realizes too late that she thinks they share the same frustration. He’s silently glad he didn’t tell her his entire life story. “I mean, I get it - kinda - but it’s like - Oh shit.”

Stiles knows before he looks to see what she’s staring at just over his head. He knows before the door falls shut again. He knows before he realizes he can hear the door fall shut because it’s now silent - the entire bar.

“Jesus Christ,” the old guy mutters across the bar, and Stiles spins around, smile wide as he waves.

“Hey, Scotty!”

Scott stands just inside the door, like a deer caught in the headlights, which is probably a fitting metaphor right now. He blinks rapidly as he takes in the crowd of stares, all directed at him, and then he ducks his head and gazes down at his feet as he walks quickly to the empty stool beside Stiles’s. Derek has a tendency to square his shoulders and set his jaw now, a silent threat of what he’s capable of becoming, but Scott’s the opposite. He shrinks down into a form so human, no one would know if this entire mess hadn’t made him its poster child.

“Hey, y’know, next time?” Stiles says as he slaps his best friend on the back before he’s even sitting. “Maybe leave your scarlet L at home?”

Scott glares in his direction before starting to shrug his jacket off. His arm is almost free when that same blonde coed is back at their side, eyes even wider than before.

“Oh. My. God,” she sighs. Her face is so pale, Stiles worries that she might pass out. But then she squeals and grabs the bar, just shy of Scott’s elbow. “You’re Scott McCall!”

“No.” Stiles immediately leans back as far as he can, holding onto the bar to steady his stool that’s now balanced on its back two legs so he can see around Scott to the girl. “No, you can’t get a picture. No, he can’t do the thing with his eyes. No, he’s not going to show you his fangs or his claws. No, he’s never met Michael J. Fox, Michael Sheen, or Jack Nicholson, so he didn’t help them rehearse for the role. No, you don’t get to know if he’s single or dating or into humans.” Stiles pants as he finishes his rant, stopping to take a deep breath before he asks, “Any other questions?”

Her face quickly turns from alabaster white to bright red. At first, she looks like she might actually cry, but then she shakes her head as she takes a step back, directly into the arms of one of her friends who whispers something in her ear, carefully raising her voice for just the word asshole.

“Thank you,” Stiles says with a wave of his hand. He watches the girls turn back around and retreat to their table before he rocks his stool back to its steady base with a sigh. But as soon as he looks away from the girls, he’s met with Scott’s judgemental stare. Stiles sighs again. “What?”

“You couldn’t have been nicer to her?” he asks, voice hushed.

“You’re not a celebrity! You’re just… fighting the legal battle of the century.”

“It’s not the legal battle of the century,” Scott corrects in a mumble under his breath. He tries to stare straight ahead, but Stiles can see the way his eyes occasionally dart over to the elderly men who throw down a wad of cash and leave without another word. To the woman a little ways down the bar who’s stood up and stands behind the man she’s with now, knuckles white as she grips his shoulder while they wait for their bill. To the college girls who can’t stop gawking and whispering, like he’s Ryan Gosling or something. Eventually, he settles for staring up at the TV, where the evening news has thankfully moved on to recapping Game 3.

“Well, you made the news again tonight,” Stiles says with a sweep of his beer bottle in the direction of the TV. Scott looks back over at him with concern in his eyes, and Stiles rushes to correct himself. “The case did, I mean. Some asshat in a suit trying to argue that if Derek’s marriage is legal in Georgia, then some loser living in his mom’s basement might try to marry his pet fish.”

Scott turns his attention back to the TV, but there’s a tension in his shoulders now, fist clenched at his side. “Swinton,” he mutters, voice dropping a little quieter. Stiles raises an eyebrow, not recognizing the name. “Some scientist in Alabama. He’s the one who lobbied for that law that bans blue monkshood but not yellow.”

“So you can’t get drunk, but they can kill you.”

“Right.”

“Fuckers,” Stiles mutters under his breath.

Scott snorts, but sobers quickly with a sigh and a shake of his head. “That doesn’t matter. If we could just get the cagings and the lynchings to be illegal everywhere -”

“-And make sure you guys have basic human rights,” Stiles interjects.

“Just the torture. For now. Then we can worry about everything else.” Scott’s shoulders slump as that newest wave of anger ebbs, and Stiles reaches over to gently squeeze the back of his neck in a comforting gesture. Scott carries a lot of guilt in the space between his shoulders and etched into those new lines around his eyes that no amount of persuasion has helped to lessen in the past few years. He needs this victory more than he’ll admit aloud.

“We’re gonna win,” Stiles says as he squeezes his neck a second time.

Scott’s expression is more grimace than smile and doesn’t come close to meeting his eyes. “Does it count if it feels like this, though?”

Scott’s eyes scan the room, and Stiles’s gaze follows. The bigots and their unwanted commentary are long gone. So is the woman who shook like a leaf and buried her face in her husband’s shoulder when they walked past. The suit is still just sitting there, staring down into his glass of whiskey, but the college girls are crowded around their phones, probably basking in their newfound popularity after tweeting about their encounter. The bartender has moved down the bar, too, busy wiping down glasses as she keeps her distance now, either out of fear or embarrassment. This bar is a microcosm of their entire existence now: a weird mixture of fear, anger, and unwanted attention. There’s no future where Scott McCall doesn’t live on in infamy.

“Hopefully it doesn’t always feel like this,” Stiles offers with a shrug of his shoulders.

Scott’s expression moves a little closer to a smile, but there’s a sadness there, too. It makes him look older than his 26 years and more tired than Stiles has seen them awhile. They don’t talk about the casualties of this war they’ve been waging so much anymore, but everyone knows they’re there: Lydia. Issac. Malia. They all carry around battle scars now - lost opportunities, failed careers, doomed relationships, physical wounds, physical losses. Almost a decade of their lives.

It sounds like a cliche, but it started slow, when it did start almost a decade ago. There was a lot of fear after Scott was caught red-eyed and claw-handed in the library. That image stuck while Beacon Hills conveniently forgot Scott McCall saved their collective asses, and that fear bred a lot of hatred in return. Then Davis retracted their offer for Scott’s spot in the Class of

2016. Patients started refusing Melissa’s care. The county filed a lawsuit against Stiles’s dad.

It only got worse when other packs in other states stepped forward in solidarity. Scientists wanted to pull Scott and Derek apart - literally - in their quest for answers. Parents thought they should be locked away, somewhere where they couldn’t succomb to their thirst for blood and try to turn their children. Evangelicals tried exorcisms, which was surprising, considering it was always the Catholics who believed in demonic possession. The first lynching happened in Oklahoma. The cages first appeared in Tennessee. Ohio’s courts had to step in before hospitals stopped inflicting pain on newborn babies to see if they would shift. (That was almost five years ago, and no one has yet to confirm what happened to the babies that did shift.)

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst of it was a domino effect leading back to here. Their legal battle started when Lahey’s Law was declared unconstitutional by the Michigan Supreme Court. It took three years before they went to trial. It was another two after that before Michigan, with Texas’s support, earned an appeal. And now, a year later, a final appeal to the Supreme Court.

They know the odds. Lydia memorized them first, but they can all recite them now: 15,000 cases apply, and the court can hear 100 at most. Certiorari is a part of Stiles’s every day vocabulary, Derek knows the justices’ decision records like other people know athletes’ stats, Scott has three lawyers on his speed dial. Stiles’s dad had asked how he was feeling after one of those first meetings with the lawyers, back when the loft was sufficient enough for strategizing and combing over evidence, and Stiles had said Like I should’ve paid better attention in Civics.

“Okay,” Stiles says now as he drums the top of the bar, pushing aside thoughts of their impending court case. “What do you got for me this time?” Scott looks a little startled by the question, and Stiles can’t help but smile. “What? You thought I thought you wanted to meet just because? So you can get a buzz via osmosis?” Stiles raises his beer in a solo toast before taking a drink.

Scott’s eyes dart around the room, and Stiles’s eyes follow, but it’s still just the guy in the suit, the girls huddled around their phones, the bartender who is obviously keeping her distance now. “I thought you said this place was empty,” Scott sighs.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t give me a whole lot of notice.” The timestamp on Scott’s Meet @ 8? Somewhere between? reads three hours ago, and Stiles is still just learning what exists between his hometown and San Francisco, his current home. “Plus, this is still better than the zoo your place is,” he adds, picturing the mess of reporters perpetually camped outside Scott’s Beacon Hills home. “It’s starting to look like you’re giving the Kardashians a run for their money.”

Scott ducks his head again, face suddenly read. “Someone wants to do a reality show.”

“No shit?” Stiles asks, brows raised. Scott nods. “I swear to god, I’ll kill you.”

Scott groans, but doesn’t bother to respond - they both already know the negative press outweighs whatever coverage would do to humanize the pack - as he reaches back behind him instead, fishing in the pocket of his jacket. A few seconds later, he pulls his hand free holding a photo that he slides across the bar.

In front of him, Stiles finds a young couple with wide smiles and a toddler balanced on the woman’s hip. He’s about Scott’s height with lighter hair and his arm looped around the woman’s waist. Her blonde hair falls just past her shoulders in soft curls, and the flash of the camera reflects in her hazel eyes in a way that makes them look almost amber, a color Stiles knows by heart. The toddler stares back at Stiles with matching eyes, clutching a fistful of her mother’s shirt, until Stiles’s chest physically starts to ache, and he has to flip the picture over. On the back, he finds writing:

Brendan Roades, 34

Callista Roades, 31

Poppy Roades, 3

“She’s a friend of Hannah’s, from the Michigan pack,” Scott explains as Stiles stares down at the list of names and ages until his eyes water. “She moved to Texas when she got married, but Hannah stayed in touch. I guess they mostly kept to themselves till a couple weeks ago when the baby shifted in public. And Texas -”

“Fuck,” Stiles cuts him off. “They’re gonna take the baby. The fucking government can take her because of that bullshit law and make her their little science experiment.”

“Which is why they left.” Stiles’s head snaps back up, staring at his friend in confusion. “Callista called Hannah, asked if it was safe to come back. But Hannah lost contact with them somewhere in the middle. That was five days ago.”

Stiles swallows hard as he flips the picture back over, studying their faces again. It’s not the first time Scott’s come to him with a story like this. He’s become the public face of what TIME Magazine has dubbed The WereRevolution, but the McCall pack had made a name for itself in the underground network of packs throughout the U.S. long before this all started. As things have become more complicated, he’s just become their contact more frequently. Neither of them remembers anymore if word got out on its own that a member of the pack now worked for the FBI, or if Scott had said those words in an attempt to provide solace to someone, but this has become their arrangement. Scott collects missing pack members’ stories, and Stiles pulls every string he can.

“They’re probably just holed up somewhere,” Scott says. “Waiting till it’s safe. Till it’s not everywhere.” He jerks his head toward the TV where the ticker tape now reads Viral petition amasses one million signatures in one day demanding NFL test for “weres.” Everywhere. “The Supreme Court’s gonna decide if they’ll hear our case or not any day. Maybe they’re just waiting it out.”

Stiles stares hard at the picture, moving his thumb to cover up the small child and her wide, innocent smile. The first time Scott handed him a photo like this, it took Stiles a week to connect the missing werewolf to a suicide that happened a week after cable networks started running ads for wolfsbane bullets. Two weeks ago, it was the victim of a hate crime in a state that hasn’t adopted Lahey’s Law, so no arrest was made.

Stiles sets the picture back down, revealing the toddler and her tiny fist, holding on for dear life. He reaches over to squeeze Scott’s shoulder just a little too hard. “We’ll find them.”

[misbit]

ADHD is basically destroying my life and I don’t know what to do. I’ve been in college for almost a decade. I’ve changed majors three times because I’ll get a good way through it and get frustrated or realize  that I no longer care for the subject. I’ve failed classes because I’ve forgotten important due dates or got so frustrated I stopped making an effort. And I’ve been late to class pretty much every day since day one back in 2014. And I’m finally almost done -  finally but I can feel my brain starting to slip back into the “this no longer interests me thus I will be making no effort” mindset it always does. I don’t drive. I have a car but I don’t do anything with it. It’s not that I haven’t tried - I’ve tried for years to do it. But when I’ve gone out to practice I’ve made so many “could have resulted in an accident” type mistakes because I’m not paying attention, that I’m scared to get a license which makes me obligated to get myself places. Currently I’m stressing myself out because I misplaced a very important document. I should have filed taxes four months ago but didn’t know where I put this document. I still don’t. My entire apartment is such a mess from my being so disorganized, I don’t even know where to begin. I didn’t get a tax return because of my disorganization and I’m stressed out worried that I might accidentally owe and be on the hook when I can’t file because I don’t know how to keep my life together. I want to get diagnosed. I would love to be able to get ADHD coaching and medication and academic accommodations. Those would be life changing. But I don’t want to be dismissed as lazy or just “a bit forgetful”. I don’t want to be diagnosed with anxiety and depression again. I don’t want to be thought of as “dr*g seeking” if I mention the possible benefits medication would have for me. I don’t want to pay all kinds of money to see someone only to subconsciously mask my symptoms the way I do with my autism. I don’t want to pay all kinds of money just for a professional to brush me off or minimize my struggles. Plus, there aren’t even people in my area who are able to diagnose it. Which means trying to find a way to get four hours away just hoping I won’t have to repeat the process if the psych in question does dismiss my symptoms. And many require “proof” that the symptoms were present in childhood. So that means hoping that my mom kept report cards from pre-2007 and hoping that my teachers made notes of these specific things. Or they may want to interview people who knew me back then which leaves... literally my mom - like that is the only person I know who knew me before age 12. My mom, someone who got mad at me when i was diagnosed with depression as a teen because it “made her look bad”. I’m sure she would totally take time off work to talk to a psych so I could get diagnosed with something she’s, on many occasions, called a “fake disorder made up just to push meds onto kids”. So that just leaves me here hoping I can figure something out. Basically it’s hope I can get the help I need or keep sitting here self destructing because I struggle with things so many people seem to be able to do so naturally. I want someone to sit down with me and tell me what I can do to help myself. I want medications to “flip a switch” on my executive functions so I can pay attention to conversations, so I can keep my life straight, so I can maybe almost function. I want accommodations at school so i can take exams in the testing center where every page turn and sound outside doesn’t break my focus and eat up time. But no, it’s never that easy. So I guess I’ll just be here, sitting in my mess of an apartment, typing this up when I should be studying, trying to find a document I lost months ago. So yeah, I guess I just wanted to rant. Maybe people have advice but I don’t know. I’m just burnt out from trying to keep myself from falling apart.