#i took the way ADHD makes me feel and made it her force sensitivity

[kalevalakryze]

Jedi June 2023

going to bite the bullet on this one too! My baby deserves to be let out into the world after all the work I put into her, and the way she made me love Mace Windu again.

Characters: Mace Windu, Original Jedi Female Character, Mentioned Depa Billaba, Mentioned Quinlan Vos, Mentioned Master Yoda

Warnings: None!

Relationships: Mace Windu & Original Jedi Female Charcter

Chessaf’re’krudo was often nervous around her Master. It was reasonable, considering the Legacy of Jedi Master Mace Windu, creator of the Seventh lightsaber form and renowned member of the Jedi Council. It wasn’t even anything necessarily about his actions that had put all the younglings in her crèche on edge, but more of the legacy and the stoicism.

                Mace Windu was a Korun man who’d trained Jedi Master Depa Bilaba, and how could she ever live up to the legacy that she must have left behind as his apprentice? Really, Chess could believe the only reason she was assigned to him was because she was purple like his jaded saber, and man, wouldn’t that suck?

                Her fidgeting must have pulled the man from his meditations, because the young Keshiri could feel his eyes leveling on her, only daring to crack her eyelids open once she managed to put her breathing to an even tone. Red eyes met brown in a tentative glance, before she found a particular divot in his robes she liked enough to stare at over eye contact. “Are you nervous, young one?” HE finally broke the silence of hyperspace, and as his legs uncrossed, Chess’s did too, only to be tucked into her chest.

                There was no point in lying to a man like Mace, not when he practically oozed the force from his very cosmic being. “Yes, master, We’re told many stories in the crèche about finding our crystal,” IT was easier, to blame her nerves on their trip to Ilum than on the weight she felt against her bony shoulders. Her chin rested on the top of her knee, and she picked at a piece of dirt that hitched a ride on the sole of her boot.

                “Trust in the force, Chess, and it will show you the way.” Was his only answer, and the padawan’s cheeks puffed out, because that definitely wasn’t the assurance she wanted, even if it was all the answer a Jedi needed. “Tell me about the force,” He questioned not unkindly as he mimicked her position, one leg stretched out and the other bent, tucked against his own chest with one arm.

                “it’s what makes up the-“ The padawan was cut off by a raised hand and a look she couldn’t place. “Is that wrong, Master?”

                “What does the force feel like to you? If you don’t mind sharing, I find that understanding how we each interpret our sensitivity may give an insight to how we can follow its’ path.”

                It took a moment, as Chess allowed her eyes to close, her legs extending against the durasteel floor of their small ship, resting against the tops of her thighs as a small tremor seemed to take over her hands. “The force feels… like my body is vibrating, like my bones want out but the force tethers them together, because it is the will of the force that I am whole. Like a constant tingling of my skin that doesn’t warn of danger, but like, like being reminded that it will be there to guide me home every night.” A small smile graced dark violet lips as her head turned upwards and the tremors in her hands paused. “like looking onto the path the force has put me on, and knowing that as long as I follow it’s light, there is nothing to fear, because the force guides me away from darkness.”

                When she opened her eyes, her Master seemed to be watching her carefully, and her cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “I’m glad to hear that the force feels like that for you, my Padawan. It is always wise to maintain a strong connection to the force and the light it provides, but be mindful, the Dark Side can disguise itself as many ways, and try to twist your beliefs into thinking it is the best option. Trust in the force, and in those of us around you as well. Master Yoda has been there for me on several occasions when I needed help sorting out how I could best conduit the Force,” Chess’s jaw had dropped at that, because, Master Windu needed to seek advice on the force? It didn’t seem real.

                “For me, the force is tricky,” His leg lowered from the bent position to extend outwards, until he was nearly mimicking Chess’s position again, though his palms stayed still where they rested on his knees. “I see the Force through Shatterpoints, moments that are vital to the world around us, where the Force shines a light on a person, place, or thing, where it shouts ‘hey, I’m over here, motherfucker!’ and I am to find a way to decipher what the best course of action is.”

                Maker, if Chess wasn’t already intimidated by the sheer power and legend of the man, learning about his ability to detect vital events only increased the feelings of awe. “Some Jedi can detect the echoes of an objects path. Master Quinlan has this ability as well. Do not forget, my young Padawan, that it is not a power or gift we have that makes us strong, but the will of the Force,” He assured when he noticed his Padawan’s face falling. She certainly didn’t get any cool powers from the force, and how was she supposed to amount to his legend as a member of his lineage when she wasn’t born powerful, and she certainly didn’t know the Seventh form yet.

                “And, Master Yoda’s only gift is his age,” Her Master pointed out, obviously allowing some humor into the conversation, causing the young Padawan to bubble with laughter. It was certainly true, Grandmaster Yoda had nine hundred years on them all, plenty of time to attune himself so strongly in the force.

                “Thank you, Master. I think I needed that,” Chess finally pushed herself to her feet, offering her hand to the Korun, who’d accepted it gratefully, before tugging her down to send her off balance and pull himself to her feet gracefully. Again, the Padawan burst out laughing, even as he helped steady her, Ilum’s surface coming into view as they exited hyperspace and drifted in the atmosphere.

[curlsincriminology]

Crush on You - Steve Harrington x Reader

A/N: Hi yeah, can you tell this was written by someone with ADHD on a plane in 30 minutes? Sure! But it's the first thing I think I've published in 5 years so you're gonna have to just deal with it! Not beta'd because again, first piece in 5 years. Also if you are lactose-intolerant be careful, this shit is CHEESY!!

@boyfriendstevie

Steve was going to maim Robin. 

He swore to God right then and there, looking at you with that cute little teasing twinkle in your eye as you said, "so you've got a crush on me, huh?" that he was going to find a way to permanently silence her. 

Robin had to be behind this. It had taken all of 12 hours - from him spilling his guts about his debilitating infatuation as he drove her home from work, to you sauntering through the Family Video doors - to get to this moment. 

His face felt hot... was he dying? Could he actually be dying? The sound of his heart pounding in his ears made him think he might still have a few more minutes of agony to go before his body mercifully took pity on him and just... y'know. Ended it. 

You, on the other hand, were thriving. You were positively giddy, unsure when the last time you had felt solid ground under your feet; you had floated on a cloud (you were sure of it) over to Family Video. 

Honestly, it wasn't Robin's fault. 

No one in their right mind would tell her something that they didn't want you to find out. Robin had been spilling Hawkins' secrets to you since your family had moved to town. 

At first, it was protective - a welcoming to the neighbourhood that helped you to know what cliques to avoid and who was sort of cool. Then it was friendly, to make you feel more at ease that you actually weren't coming off like the idiot you thought you might be. 

Now? Now it was downright… messy? Fun? No, definitely mischievous. 

Why else would she have rolled up on her bike to your part-time spot, parked behind the desk at the Hawkins Public Library, with that shit-eating grin on her face claiming she had some positively delightful news to tell you?

Either way you didn't care. Because it had brought you here, still in your work getup, absolutely vibrating with the sheer force it was taking you to not be the biggest tease in the world about something that was okay, maybe a little sensitive. 

Steve could see the restraint on your face anyway. He knew you wanted to tease him - you were loving this. 

He was still contemplating just faking an emergency and leaving. It would have been hard with the way you were leaning over the counter, gripping the side closest to him to keep you supported as you blocked him from passing you. But maybe he could manage it if he put on a good enough show.

You were biting your lip in an attempt to not freak him out with the intensity of your grin. You really just wanted him to admit it.

Standing there, with your body basically draped over the counter, your lip worried between your teeth and your eyebrow raised, Steve thought maybe it wouldn’t be the embarrassment that killed him. Maybe it would just be from how goddamn pretty you were.  He had never seen anyone more enchanting than you - he thought there were probably damn hearts in his eyes as he stared at you. 

And if he thought about it, maybe you hadn't heard it from Robin... he wasn't exactly subtle when it came to you. He'd definitely tripped over himself, literally, to be the one to grab you a tape you'd requested be put on hold. More than once. 

There had also been the time when you had caught him watching you as you perused the shelves, completely ignoring the increasingly frustrated attempts of Mrs Jones to try and get him to check out "Trading Places" for her. 

"Steeeeeeeve." The melodic singsong of your voice was enough to bring him back to the present. And to cause him to realize he had just been staring at you, gape-mouthed, for at LEAST 15 uninterrupted seconds. 

Yeah, it would be the embarrassment that killed him. 

"I- I uh." You watched a muscle bob in Steve's throat as he swallowed hard, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I-"

"Are you always this articulate?" You said with a bat of your eyelashes and he groaned. You were gorgeous and funny and he used to be so much better at this. There's no way he would have fumbled this conversation back in high school. 

Then again, you hadn't been at his high school. 

Eyes closed he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and quickly realised that could be interpreted as "no, I am NOT always this articulate which is to say, quite accurately,  sometimes I literally can't speak when you talk to me". Steve quickly opened his eyes to stammer out... something. Jesus. He was really killing it. 

You remain in your position, leaning on the counter as you wait for him to formulate a coherent thought. And no, you would not give him a reprieve. Not yet. 

Because you had been hiding your crush behind teasing comments and little jokes and playful nudges since the second you laid eyes on the man in front of you. Ever the charmer, he would flirt and tease and joke back with you, tit for tat. But sometimes… you could push it, and throw him off his game. You could reduce him to a blushing sputtering mess, and you loved nothing more than to watch him try to process if you were talking a big game or would really walk the walk. You wanted to see if you could get him to finally end this game of chicken.

Steve huffed and let out a tentative laugh. His hand had found its way back to the disheveled strands on his head. "I, uh, I feel like there's no way for me to get out of this."

If Steve hadn't spent the last few months studying your every goddamn facial expression, he would have missed the little narrow you did of your eyes. Almost imperceptible, but he knew you did it when you were processing something and not quite sure where that thought process was taking you. Or what you were going to do. 

It seemed like only a fraction of a second before you decided. 

"What if," you began, a small almost devilish smile starting to spread across your lips, "I made it easier for you?"

You leaned closer towards Steve, and watched his eyes widen ever so slightly as he looked down at your lips. He licked his own without realising it, following your movements as you leaned closer, closer... and grabbed the sticky pad and pen he'd been doodling on before you had flounced in. 

His cheeks warmed and it didn't escape your notice that there was a small flush spreading across Steve's face. Or that he absolutely wanted to kiss you. 

You grinned to yourself, pulling the used sticky off and pressing it onto Steve's chest. He glanced down in confusion at the piece of paper stuck in the gap of his vest, his eyes flying back up to meet yours as you beamed.  If you left your fingers splayed across his chest a second or two longer than necessary, he didn’t voice any complaints. 

Pulling your hand away from Steve’s chest, you curled it over the pad in your other hand, scribbling furiously, while keeping the note’s contents hidden from Steve's curious gaze. 

Pleased with yourself, you flipped the pad back towards him on the counter and slid the pen along with it, bumping his hand so that he would take over their possession. His fingers curled over yours briefly, and while you would’ve liked to have kept your hand under his a little longer, you were playing a special game and you weren’t ready for it to be over just yet.

Steve was so focused on your little smirk, and the way your eyes had crinkled when he looked down at your bottom lip, he didn't even register the note when he glanced down at it. 

"You can send it along with the town crier if you want." You teasingly gestured out the window to Robin who had just pulled up in front of the store. He struggled to process it all; everything that was you and the note you had slipped across the counter, and he finally looked up again at you, you were partially to the door. A wink thrown back at him as you passed Robin. 

"Hey Robs. Bye Steve." He heard a muffled “hello” and “bye” from Robin’s direction in response, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would have been to capture your lips against his with you as close as you had been. If not that, Christ, he could have at least admitted he couldn’t get you out of his head with you, there, giving him the perfect opportunity. 

The chime of the door wasn't enough for him to stop staring after you. In fact, he watched you walk away until he couldn't see you anymore. He was vaguely aware of Robin speaking to him as she buzzed around him, moving things he had left “in the wrong place” and “should have put away already”. He felt her push into her personal space, boundaries long forgotten if they had ever been present at all, as she tapped at his hand.

"Uuuuh Steve? What's that?" Robin asked, her large blue eyes studying him and the object partially hidden by his large palm. He blinked slowly, eyes focusing back on the room in front of him instead of the spot where he had last seen you, turning out of the parking lot.

He could be angry with Robin later he thought, flipping the pad in his hand to read what you had written. He felt the tips of his ears go red as he finally processed the words in your slightly messy scrawl, Robin yammering about something in the background. 

It was cute and it was cheesy and he was almost grateful you had left so you didn’t see the big stupid grin that spread across his face. Yeah, he had a crush on you. But you had a crush on him too.

He grabbed the pen and checked “yes”, pulling the note off the pad and shoving it deep in his pocket to get it away from Robin. He could deliver it himself.

[dionysianfreak]

some spicy things I do in my practice because of ADHD

given that it's literally my brain, adhd takes over a lot of things in my life. it finds a way to wiggle into everything I do in both bad and good ways. it's just how it is being neurodivergent and it's just how life goes for me, but that doesn't mean it doesn't aid me in many ways. growing up we aren't taught about mental divergency. we're taught the abled and neurotypical way and that's it, but in truth neurodivergent people only struggle due to not having the resources to do things the way that'll let them work efficiently. so here is a list of ways my personal adhd effects my pagan practice and ways I incorporate it into my worship !

stimming

stimming ! i stim a LOT and sometimes, if the emotion I feel is strong enough, they turn to uncontrollable tics. this also means that when during things like rituals, I'll have to pause so I don't tic and ruin something. this is totally normal and okay ! I've never once had a problem with it, and the Gods just patiently waited for it to pass as it always does. we both know it's just something that happens and it's apart of me, it isn't something to be ashamed of or hide.

accepting stimming once I was diagnosed was also something I did as a devotional act to Dionysos ! instead of trying to mask or push down the urge to stim, I'd allow myself to just let it out. my stims vary between very overt to covert, and accepting the overt ones as normal was a feat worthy of devotion imo. you can also keep stim toys on your altar when you're not using them, if you wanted to.

time and schedules

consistent worship ????? never heard of her. same goes for offerings. sometimes I give 294894 offerings in a day and sometimes I've given one offering in a week, it just depends on my ever changing behavior. there's no need to be stuck on a schedule if you don't want to or even make one to begin with. when I first started out, I asked Hermès, Apollon, and Dionysos (who I worshipped at the time) if I should make a schedule and the no was so hard I haven't asked since. my worship is a part of my daily life, as just like I don't drive places every day I don't worship every day. both are still important in my life regardless if I'm actively doing it or not. if you stuggle with consistency, I urge you to speak with the Gods you worship and see if making things more fluid would help !

hyperfixation is also a pain in the ass sometimes, especially when it becomes something other than paganism. due to the free nature of my practice and that I've chosen to devote, it sometimes translates into "well I don't haveeee to do this" and suddenly poof, all the motivation is gone. it's VERY hard to come back when your brain is so wired on something else entirely, and I understand the feeling. during these times I personally do very small things to keep up. if I make dinner for myself, I'll offer a portion and eat with the Gods just to show that I'm participating even when I'm struggling to. the small things count.

RSD - Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria

my RSD is crippling in my life, and it's reach extends to paganism sometimes as well (if you're unaware, RSD is the extreme sensitivity to perceived rejection in any form). sometimes during readings I receive a card that I believe is saying something "negative". sometimes it's criticism, sometimes advice, sometimes it's a slap on the wrist, but no matter what it is in reality I'm at the mercy of my brain to interpret it. so this has lead to meltdowns, long depressive/anxious episodes, and crying fests when I think a deity is angry with me. it has gotten so bad before that delusions have appeared and made me believe false memories or feelings of hatred from the Gods.

it's so hard and I'm so sorry if anyone else has to deal with it. to help with this, I have to fight to remind myself that advice is not an attack. the Gods are trying to help me and, even if They were angry at me, I've made mistakes before and They've allowed me to grow from them. i also have a checklist of questions I ask myself to allow logic and reality back into my head. a few questions include "have i done anything recently that's worthy of anger from a God ?", "is this something that will last forever ?", and "is this a message that has something to teach me ?".

impulsiveness

ask most people with ADHD about being impulsive and you'll probably receive a nervous side glace. we're impulsive often, which can do a multitude of things in paganism. one, starting a devoting and never finishing it. i am SO guilty of this one, and it make me feel bad even now. i have plenty up unfinished plans, drawings, and other devotional items that look around and guilt me. I've been in this cycle for a year and I don't think I'll ever grow out of it, but from what I've noticed the Gods don't mind. doing some of a devotion is a wonderful feat, and the energy that took is a wonderful offering even if you don't finish it.

I'm sure other adhd people and probably some autistic people have been in the position of "I just discovered this new Deity and oh my god I NEED to worship them RIGHT NOW or I'll DIE". They're just SO COOL and you automatically feel a connection. then three weeks later you feel demotivated to worship Them and now you feel terrible about it. don't worry, me too. to help with this nowadays I personally honor for a bit then worship if the worship relationship doesn't involve any help between us. this is what I did with Pan, and it worked VERY well for me. i recognized our connection but I didn't feel the pressure to consistently worship Him.

back to the start of the second paragraph, if you're stuck in that situation just communicate with the Deity. it can be hard to admit you're wrong, especially with adhd. however, just sitting down and calling to Them to let them know how you feel and that you think you made a mistake is a huge communicative step !

demotivation

this. one. sucks. inbetween hyperfixations, being stressed out or anxious, going through a depressive episode, and more can cause very deep demotivation and loss of energy in people with ADHD and other disorders. sometimes I'll just lay in my floor with my headphones on for hours because I literally can't find the energy to get up. a lot of people worry that this directly conflicts with Paganism and would slow progress. i understand why it seems that way, especially since adhd is a very "GO FAST, DO THIS THING N O W" disorder. there's actually a few solutions here I can think of

devote your personal healing to the Gods as this can give your brain a "reward" and can help you personally feel better in many ways. after weeks without a shower, devote a bath to a Deity or maybe eat breakfast at Their altar if you haven't been eating much. allow Them to be your motivation

take a break entirely. paganism certrainly isn't a 24/7/365 commitment and your practice molds to your needs. if you're just absolutely knocked out and need rest, take a break. I've taken MANY breaks before. I've been forced on breaks too because the Gods noticed my mental health declining before I did. never feel ashamed for needing time for yourself

do multiple small things rather than big things. a little bit of your dinner when you eat, redecorate Their altar or space, listen to music that reminds you of Them, think of Them when you're out and about in case you see something. you can weave devotion into daily acts in order to reinforce mundane things you need to do and calm your mind about paganism.

and finally, miscellaneous list of other things I do that are too small for their own section.

if you need to keep track of divination readings, no need to write down every reading you've ever had in detail. you can voice record them as you go, take photos of the cards, or use apps like Labyrinthos that can act as a tarot log.

your altar doesn't need to look perfect, it should reflect your worship and your devotion to a Deity. this means if your altar looks like a mess, as mine ALWAYS do, it's perfectly okay ! clutter aesthetic altars are the most beautiful altars in my eyes, and they're so worthy of adoration. I've never once heard of a Deity disliking an altar, They appreciate our work to put in a space just for Them. let your altar look messy and wild as you want, altars don't need to be aesthetic or color coordinated

you see everywhere that many of us are devoted to one deity in particular or multiple, I fit in here too. i just wanted to say that you never have to devote to any Deity if you don't want to. you could worship when you need help from a specific Deity or worship a different deity every month. never feel like you have to tie yourself down just because other people feel comfortable doing so.

you don't have to celebrate every festival. it's okay to skip celebrations that don't really apply to you or are at an inconvenient time ! you could also reschedule if you find yourself wanting to celebrate but burnt out or busy.

[pillage-and-lute]

Thicker Than Water (Part 8)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, (here)

Ao3 link HERE

Please note, this is pretty heavy, it deals with a lot of common insecutiries for adults with ADHD and Jaskier blames himself for a lot of things, but it’s not triggering in the traditional sense. Much of this fic has been about the ways Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria and other ADHD symptoms can cause self-destructive actions, this focuses on other insecurities, common blames, and then the self-isolation that can come from guilt, even unfounded guilt.

Please remember, in this fic’s world Geralt and Jaskier actually do have a loving and pretty healthy friendship, albeit with communication issues. People fight some times, these are just ways in which RSD can mess with healthy relationships.

OTHER TW: Mentioned child abuse.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yennefer and Ciri asked Jaskier to come down for supper that evening. Between lunch and dinner he’d napped, evidently passing out wasn’t the same as actual good-quality rest and his body was demanding it’s due. Evening came around, though and Yen took his elbow to help him stand.

They walked at a slow pace down the hall, Jaskier’s body not up for much more. Ciri stuck behind them, but the pace was embarassingly painstaking.

“Ciri,” Yennefer said. “This is a lot for Jaskier, and will take some time, why don’t you go see if they need help in the kitchen?”

Ciri gave one more concerned look at Jaskier, then bounded off. 

Yennefer steered Jaskier to an alcove in the stone of the hallway. He was embarrassed to find himself out of breath.

“What are you going to do?” She asked him. She wasn’t asking about his lungs.

“Eat supper I suppose.”

“I mean about Geralt.”

He knew she meant Geralt, and sighed. “I don't know, Ciri says I'm angry and I am...”

“But?”

“That day on the mountain I didn’t give him space,” Jaskier said, feeling a lump grow in his throat, blocking off his already small air supply.

“I never know when to give people space, I never have, I've been working on it my whole life and I still don't understand.” His chest ached. With emotion, with pneumonia, with tiredness. With shame.

“I’ve always been different, you know?” He looked up at Yennefer. He was taller than her but she sat regally, and he was hunched over, conserving his air.

“In stories being different is usually a good thing, you get cool powers and people love you, but life isn’t like that. And being different is...it’s so much worse when you’re a kid.”

“I know,” Yennefer said. Those purple eyes...she knew. She understood, probably better than anyone. There were parts of her story that Jaskier didn’t have, wasn’t entitled to, but she understood.

“I cant do things I'm not interested in, not don’t want to, can’t. Even if I am interested, they don't always get done,” Jaskier whispered, like he was confessing to a priest, not a barely-friendly witch in a cold hallway.

“I’m nothing but a ball of loose ends, tangled up and bouncing around, running into people and making them as tangled as I am,” Jaskier said. It came out half-sobbed, which upset his breathing and he began to wheeze, then cough.

“If I’m not interested in something, if nothing lights up my mind, I get so sad and tired it’s like this horrible weight.” Jaskier kept talking, feeling the emotions fighting to get out. “Being around people helps, I can get things done, be more normal. And interesting people, oh they’re the best, of course. They keep that awful sad, tired feeling away because they’re always interesting.”

He looked down at his knees, wrapped in their battered trousers.

“But I need to be around them so much,” he whispered. “And I’m too much for anyone to want around long.”

He leaned his head against the cold stone of the alcove wall, staring blankly and watching as his field of vision blurred with tears.

“I’m dramatic,” he said. 

“You’re a bard.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Dad called me a pansy, among worse things. He tried to beat it out of me. I just, I seem to feel more than other people. Happy is more happy, but sadness, fear, rejection, they’re all so much worse. I overreact and it makes me hard to deal with.”

He felt a tear roll down and get caught in the scruff on his chin. “I need people though, and I need people to like me. Crowds come and go I just needed one person to like me so I forced it to be Geralt.”

Jaskier was crying in ernest now, full tears falling and shoulders shaking, clogging up his breathing so his cries mingled painfully with coughs. Yennefer reached out and pulled at his shoulder, bringing him up from his hunched over position.

“I’m angry at him even though it was my fault,” he said, wretchedly.

“I followed him and took advantage of the fact that he doesn’t talk because he wont tell me to go away. I took advantage of his patience like that so someone could keep me around and I let myself believe that he actually wanted me around, that just one person could bear being around me. And being with him left me time to go seek out other interests, go ahead or stay behind, I never got bored and it was perfect for me and probably hell for him.”

Jaskier sniffled, looking away and studying the wall because he couldn’t bear to see the condemnation that would surely be on Yennefer’s face.

“And I fell in love with him. Which was stupid because I've been using him this entire time,” he whispered. 

“I used him for music and money, then I used him to bandage my self esteem and its all my fault.”

Jaskier finally managed to look at Yennefer and saw that she was actually rolling her eyes.

 “It’s not your fault, he was on a horse, you were walking, he could have left you behind anywhere.”

“He’s too kind to leave me to die on my own.”

“What about towns?” Yennefer asked. “What about the djinn?”

“The djinn was my fault.”

“The djinn was his fault,” Yennefer said, stubbornly.

“The djinn was my fault, I thought he was joking. He’d do that, you know? I’d ask him what he was doing and he’d say ‘cooking a unicorn’ or ‘hunting a gabledegook’ so I just thought he was joking again because I thought surely a djinn was only a story. Even if they weren’t there was no reason Geralt would want one. I made horrible wishes, they could have ruined lives, can you imagine?”

“I can.”

Of course she could. It had been stupid of him to say that, Yennefer knew better than anyone how a careless wish, or even a not so careless one, could turn out.

“I have to ask,” Jaskier said, since Yennefer didn’t seem in the mood to turn him into a salamander. “Did geralt wish for you to love him?”

“He wished for me to be bound to him the sex was just...adrenaline, magic, wanting another outsider, a little bit of the djinn. I won’t do it again.” She said, fervently.

“You don’t have to promise that, I have no claim to him,” Jaskier said.

“No one has claim to anyone,” Yennefer snapped. “But you love him. Anyway, I wasn’t telling you, I don’t want him. I don’t want sex with him I want his destiny, our destiny, nothing more.”

“I love him very much,” Jaskier said, after she settled from her outburst.

“Have you ever told him?”

Never, he might think he owes me something.”

“I think you think he’s more self sacrificing than he is. He wouldn't date you out of obligation, he’s not that sort of man.”

Jaskier tilted his head back against the stone. “But he feels guilty, for everything, all the time. What if he did it as an apology.”

“Geralt wouldn't do you the disservice of a pity relationship.” 

“We had a pity friendship.”

“You didn't.”

“We did.”

Yennefer peered at him with those strange eyes. “You love him though.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think its a lost cause.”

“I do.”

Yennefer shifted, pulling her hair over one shoulder. “When I asked earlier, I meant what do you want to do after this? Do you even want to see Geralt?”

“Oh gods I rambled and --”

“Shut up, you needed it off your chest.”

Jaskier sighed. “I always want to see Geralt, but I don't think I should be around him. He needs more space than most people and I need less. I do want an apology, I don't want him to grovel, I don’t want him to beg for me back in his life because that's a choice I want him to make on his own. I don’t even need him to tell me through speech because I know that can be hard. He could write a letter.I just...”

“And if you got an apology?”

“I intend to apologize first. I’ll apologize, maybe he’ll apologize, and that way we can at least be friendly, if not friends. And then in the spring I’ll leave, take a different path and it won’t matter anymore.”

I won’t be able to hurt him anymore, Jaskier thought, darkly.

“Nilfgaard wants you,” Yennefer warned. 

“I know,” Jaskier sighed. “I may have to fake my death or... oh!” He looked up at Yen, smiling even as he wanted to cough. 

“You can wipe my memory!”

Yennefer actually recoiled. 

Jaskier’s excitement had set off the coughing and he felt it tear through his throat and squeeze at his ribs until the fit eased.

“I’m not wiping your memory,” Yennefer said, severely.

“Why not? Yen, it’s the perfect solution, and Nilfgaard couldn’t get anything out of me.”

“And Geralt get’s his damned wish,” Yennefer snarled.

Jaskier looked down. “I know he didn’t mean it, he’s a good man, he wouldn’t wish anyone gone in that way, but yes, that wish would be granted and I’d never bother him again.”

“Geralt has a habit of making stupid wishes that he doesn’t actually want granted,” Yennefer snapped.

“You’re supposed to be on his side,” Jaskier said, smiling wetly. “It’s my fault, remember?”

“I don’t think even Geralt’s on Geralt’s side,” Yennefer said. “I won’t take your memories. You wouldn’t remember anything.”

Jaskier deflated. “I guess I’m as good as dead if I can’t remember songs or how to play the lute.”

Yennefer shifted uncomfortably.

“I would forget how to play, wouldn’t I?”

“Well...” she said. “No. You would remember anything you’d learn, knowledge isn’t memories, you know? You’d even know your songs, just not why you knew them or that you’d written them.”

“If you won’t do it, is there a mage who will? I’d only need to get to a city, how much do you think a spell like that would cost?”

Yennefer groaned. “No, bard, I’ll do it. If it’s what you still want, if you’re sure at the end of winter, yes, I’ll take your memories. It’s better than some quack doing it, or worse, turning you in to Nilfgaard but...I don’t like it.”

Jaskier was surprised to see her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I won’t take that choice from you,” she said, blinking hard. “But I hope it’s not the one you make.” She sniffed, she tried to make it seem disdainful but it was definitely tearful. 

“Anyway,” she said. “What about Ciri? She adore’s you, if you didn’t remember her it would break her heart.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I”m only a storyteller,” he said, wishing bitterly that it wasn’t true. “She has a whole marvelous family full of stories they can tell her.”

“Didn’t you hear her, she doesn’t feel like this is a family,” Yennefer said, sharply. 

“We’ll fix that.”

“So that you can abandon her, you mean?”

Jaskier grimaced. “It’ll be safer for her. Even if I traveled with Geralt, there’s no guarantee Nilfgaard wouldn’t take me, wouldn’t read my mind and put her in danger.” He looked Yennefer right in the eyes. “I won’t let myself hurt her.”

Yennefer hung her head. “We’ll discuss it at the end of winter,” she said. “Do you still feel up to dinner?”

Jaskier thought about it. He felt lighter, in a way, unburdening himself of the guilt he’d been carrying was better, but he was exhausted, and his chest felt raw. 

“I think I’d rather eat in my rooms,” he said sheepishly. 

He ate dinner alone, wishing he wasn’t but he was practicing giving people space, and he felt proud of himself for it. He only had to continue it, apologize, and get through the winter.

Then he’d never remember he had problems to begin with.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They will get there. Please read the note at the top, these are all very common ADHD insecurities and relationship problems. Remember, Geralt is not the villain. He needs to apologize, and he’s trying, but the villain is the insecurity.

Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz  @samukai  @charlies-dragon @live-long-and-trek-on  @holymotherwolf @morte-mistrata @mewithanie @sharondnovels @stinastar @ionlylikemycat @annafortoday @its-the-quenchiest-stuff @kkiyomizu @so--many-fandoms @endless-whump @ineffable-monster-romancer @tookarma @seraphim-miryam  @sweetiepieplum @nerdy-numinuos @ravenclaw-dirt

[forbidding-souda]

Hey, mod of @danganronpa-x-reader here and thanks so much for your shout out and kind words. I wanted to make a request! If you can’t do it (I have adhd so even when I read blog rules I always miss something) then ignore my request and just take this as a thank you post! But here’s my request Imagines of the V3 boys first time (nsfw) with a virgin female reader that’s nervous about it (I’m a sucker for these types of stories.

DRV3 boys with virgin fem S/O (NSFW)

I got ya! I’m not too experienced in being a virgin female but I’ll try my best bahaha so I only did the moment that the virginity is taken.

Ryoma isn’t included because no.

-Mod Souda

Rantarou Amami

He is cunning. He licks up and down your body, keeping that smug look on his face as he does.

He sucks on your chest, hard, and leaves red hickeys all over your body.

Anything to make you wet. He knows how this whole sex thing works, textbook wise, of course.

He’s pretty book smart. His good looks add to it, of course.

Especially when he lays you down, putting his hand down your underwear before taking them off.

You gasp. His hands are cold, making them more apparent once they enter you. 

Your breathing quickens. He just hums to himself, amused at how flustered you are getting.

Curses fall under your breathe once he curls his fingers, and you find your legs spreading unconsciously.

Pulling his fingers out, he finally pulls down your underwear.

And the nervousness you started with comes back.

“I’m a little nervous,” you state bluntly. It makes him pause for a second and he peers up at you with his puppy dog eyes. But a smile returns to his face as he continues on with positioning himself.

“If you ever want me to stop, just tell me, okay.”

You just nod, settling back into your relaxed position and taking a breath.

When he goes inside of you, he leans forward and rest his body on-top of yours to kiss your neck. 

“Please,” you beg, “Rantarou, please start moving!”

Kaito Momota 

His energy seems to joyful that you can’t find yourself being too worried.

He giggles as he kisses you, his mouth moving around your body, planting compliments.

Your fingers pull through his hair, too, especially when he kisses your neck.

“You don’t have to be scared.” He coos against you, his strong arms holding your naked body. He had a smug smile though, almost as always.

Stubbornly you deny his words. “I’m not scared.”

“It’s fine if you are.” 

He leans close to you, pressing his lips against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, and you can feel your breathe quicken when he pulls down his underwear.

Kaito places one hand on your thigh, lifting your leg so it goes on his shoulder.

His skin, warm and pressed against you, is rough, but his presence is calming when he touches you.

“Are you ready?”

All you can is nod, scared that if you talk your voice will sound not as ready as you feel.

But you are ready. You’re excited, almost, to know how it feels. 

He’s such a dork. He makes you smile and laugh. And you love him.

When he finally inserts himself inside of you, you squeal a bit. It’s an unusual feeling, something you’re unfamiliar with.

But once he starts moving, you understand the appeal to sex. 

Korekiyo Shinguuji

He lays under you, maskless and at a loss for breath. His hands glide up your thighs, holding you in place. He doesn’t speak, letting you take the control.

The feeling of anticipation carries you more than anything, you’re almost excited to know what it feels like.

Korekiyo is the perfect man to try with. 

“Are you okay, Kiyo?” You ask him. He rolls his neck, smiling.

“You shouldn’t be asking about me, my love. Are you the one that is okay?”

His voice soothes you more than anything. It’s nice. It’s kind. You want to put a strong face on for him. He can’t know how nervous you are.

All you can do is give him a toothy smile while you slowly start to settle yourself down onto him, his hips twitching in satisfaction.

It makes you hot, feeling him inside of it, and it’s nothing like the books say or the movies portray it as. 

Plus, the sight of him shirtless from under you is the most satisfying thing about it all.

“You’re gorgeous, Korekiyo.”

In response, he bucks his hips, smiling to himself at your loud reaction. The longer you sit on top of him, the longer he teases you with his sudden touches or dirty words.

Gonta Gokuhara

He’s definitely as nervous as you, if not even more. His big hands aren’t sure where to go and his soft lips don’t know what words to say.

You flip him, so his back is on the bed and you climb on top of him, kissing his softly. 

We are in this together, you almost want to say. 

You run one of your hands up and down his chest while the other pulls down his pants just enough to show you his dick. 

Close. You’re just so close to him. Nothing in the way the two of you met predicted that this is how your year would end.

Your heart beats at a crazy speed, and it’s all you can hear. 

You don’t know how it will feel, you don’t know what it will be like. Will you even like it? Will he?

Without another word, you let him inside of you, sitting on him with his hips against your own. You can easily feel him fill you up completely. It’s almost uncomfortable.

You have to take a breath before you can move.

He whimpers, his cheeks a deep red color. “Oh, S/O, please move,” he moans out. 

Kokichi Ouma

The two of you are sitting on the couch, you on his lap, letting his hands roam your chest.

You don’t have any underwear from under your skirt, and all he has to do is take off his pants. But he doesn’t want to rush anything. He knows it’s your first time, so he takes a while to make you feel good, getting you wet and open for him.

The noises you make get louder the more he touches you until you are practically begging for him to pull down his pants.

“Please,” you sit up, fingers intertwining with his roots. “Please, I’m ready. I’m ready.”

The unmoving swirl of nervousness still remains in your stomach, no matter how sure you of how you want this evening to end.

He pulls down his pants, the smile never leaving his face. He couldn’t help but let his fingers travel up your thighs and letting his kind touch align you with him.

So when you push down, you can feel him enter you, and the decision is definitely worth it. 

Your head leans against his shoulder, and you couldn’t help but whisper out, “Thank you.”

Kiibo

His metal body is cold, but you like touching it anyways.

And the day before, Iruma had approached you, telling you about his request and then drooling when she added the fact that he could last forever.

Knowing her, it made you a bit scared of what size she made it. 

Kiibo’s kisses seemed to distract you from the thought, though, until he moment his cold hand seemed to fall down into your pants, dragging them down along with your underwear.

You exhale, your cheeks puffing up as you do. It’s not like he’s more experienced than you. What are you even scared of?

“Be careful, okay, Kiibo.” You coo, advertising your gaze.

He tilts his head back a bit before rolling his neck, his form of expressing the slight offense he took to your statement.

“I would never hurt you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you say while laughing a bit. “I’m a bit sensitive, Kiibo, that’s all I meant by it.”

He draws close to you, resting his forehead against yours as he spreads your legs. “Then I will be careful, as you put it.”

You know that you can tell him if you feel uncomfortable, or if he is going too fast or slow, and he will accommodate himself to you. 

And you will accommodate yourself to him, whatever makes him comfortable, as he is as new to this as you.

Feeling anxious just seems silly. But it still bites at you.

You can tell, by the hard flush on his face, that he feels the same way.

In the midst of your thoughts, you let out a small moan when you feel him, warm, inside of you. 

Warm? Did Iruma put in a heater? Silly woman.

He opens his mouth, letting out a moan just at the contact, and the feeling of your walls pulsating against him. 

He can feel your heartbeat. That’s probably his favorite part.

Shuichi Saihara

If it’s even possible, you’re more of a blushing mess than he is.

Your body is sensitive to every single one of his touches. You whimper as his lips close over one of your nipples and his fingers drag down your pants. 

A part of you wants to squirm against his touch. Another part of you just wants him inside of you already, to know how it feels. To know what to expect.

“Shuichi, you’re driving me crazy!” You say with a small laugh. His saliva drips down your breast.

“Do you not like it?” He asks with a hint of shyness in his voice.

“I love it too much, it’s so overwhelming.”

His kisses trail back up to your mouth. “Does that mean you’re ready?”

“I... I am ready, are you ready, too?”

A small smile falls onto his face. He nods as he puts his fingers on his own waistband, pulling his pants down with a slow hesitance.

His movements are calm, though his hands have a slight tremble to them.

“Are you ready too, I asked.” You repeat with a bit more force, your thighs pressing together. “Please don’t force yourself.”

A smooth breath escapes his lips. Seeing your concern for him seems to calm him down. You care. He knows you care. 

“It’s my first time, too. I just don’t want to mess it up.”

“Don’t worry about messing up. It’ll just add to the experience, right, Shuichi?”

Your wide smile encourages him. But there’s a slight tremble to your hands, as well. Maybe he isn’t so alone. The thought is pleasant.

Both of his hands find their place on either side of your head as he pushes inside of you. 

“Aah- yes,” you moan out, your hands gripping his sides.

His head dips, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth to hide his quick whimper.

[epic-sorcerer]

Fuck

(Tw antiblackness)

Okay so when I was 11 my mom read this book to me about the 5 Chinese personality elements. Ever sense then I was fascinated by it and wanted to create OCs of my own to respresent them.

Bc my adhd can cause weird motivation and memory, I cared only with developing characters and story lines and slowly forgot the actual sorce material.

When I first started, I decided to focus more on story and not on character disign. Because mostly I took inspiration from vocaloid songs(you can tell this was a while ago) I decided to make them all Japanese so I could narrow their look way down compared to shapeless blobs in my mind.

Years past and I decided I didn’t like this anymore. I was ready to do the complete opposite and have a very diverse cast of characters. My strategy was to chose a culture in any where in the world, at any time, that most prioritized and valued what each element had to give and generally imbodied. Especially bc I wanted each character to be the most extreme form of their elements and often invisioned each character to be a political representative for each colony of element.

I good way to put this in perspective is to imagine I was making a communism OC so I made them Chinese or USA American. Basically that would chosenthose cultures bc it is something it generally is really extreme about and is known for.

My first real character disign was fire. I made her a Scottish pict, as I could give her red hair and have her be her full passionate and chaotic self.

All the other ones are up in the air. But I realized that it would be really cool to make tree be an African person with a 4c type Afro and a long and skinny body type. That’s the most tree like I could have made someone! I was so happy and got really attached to my black tree character. I new that Africa was huge and old, and that’s not even counting the West Indies. Of course I could find a culture that was tree-like. All I needed to do was look.

All of this screeched to a hault today. I decided to look up the tree personality after years and years and was met with something heart breaking.

Aggressive, angry, reckless, arrogant, etc. this reminds me of the angry black stariotype mixed with the newer unreasonable blm protester one.

I’m unsure if I’m being too paranoid or if I’m being reasonable when I say that I’m not sure if I can make tree black. Even though the negitive descriptions are for when tree is unbalanced, it still doesn’t make it okay imo.

From a writers perspective, it makes snese to start characters at when they are unbalanced, because then it’s an easy wrote to character development. Even if I don’t do this, I have no choise but to make this character aggressive sometimes if I truly want to stay true to Tree.

For perpective here’s the other elements’ triats from Wikipedia

Fire also is aggressive. And also waters positive and negative traits are opposites. Earth is a mix of all elements so im imagining earth may also be aggressive when unbalanced. Do you think I can make this work or should I change tree’s race?

Fire is a white Celtic. And I’m unsure what culture I want earth to belong to. I’m thinking of making water be a Samoan(not sure what time period), metal is still Japanese for now but I am unsure if that still fits my change in casting intentions so that’s probably going to change. Basically what I’m saying is that I’m only really going to have one white character, bc I want the cultures to be spread out throughout the map.

I know black people are often forced to constantly be on their toes in turns of wether or not something is anti black and if they are unsafe in that environment. I’m not black, but I belong to multiple minority groups and I understand that feeling to a terrifying degree. The last thing I would want is to make a choise that resembles anti black caricatures and put black poeple in the position of wondering if I dislike them or if they are unsafe around me.

I understand that feeling, and I don’t want to put poeple throguh taht. I still want to have a super inclusive cast, but I’m also aware that I have to be very careful as a white writer. Even though my intentions were good, I accidentally associated a black character with aggressiveness and that’s extremely hurtful. I’m also aware that if I represent a black character well, it can be uplifting to a black audience that I took so much care to learn about an African culture and put it in a positive light.

I remember when I was a baby gay and I came across this channel run by a cishet who dedicated a large protion of his videos to calling out lgbt phobia and premoting the idea that we deserve to have rights and to feel safe and happy as who we are. I was in awe a cishet would do taht for us and felt personally touched. I want to be able to do something that other people feel that same way about, because it’s truly a beutiful thing.

So...where do I go from here? Do I change trees race to a different one? Please be honest. I know I say I have rejection sensitivity dysphoria, but that dosnt mean you can’t criticize me. It only means taht you have to be careful and not angry. I truly want to make this story the best it can be, and I want to know if I’m doing the right thing if I change tree’s race to something else. 

I want all people to feel safe while experiencing my work(idk if it will be a book or what, it’s very early in development).

I have no intention on making tree a villain, instead a good character who is the sweetest person you can meet. I feel like I would make fire much more angry and aggressive bc of the Scottish pict emphasis on war and and never backing down, to make my intentions clear.

But even then, that doesn’t change that tree is so connected to anger. And I’m not sure how I can work with that so if doesn’t seam like an anti black stariotype

Anger, anger, anger. I don’t knwo what to do. Please help, preferably black users because yall definitely know heaps more about this than me as a white person.

Please knwo that I mean well, and I’m never intended to make my tree character black if I remembered how heavily it’s associated with anger. All I remembered was the optimism and happiness, as I am sensitive to negativity and my brain probably forgot about the dark side of tree on purpose when I was 11 and didn’t even think of making tree black. I’m so disappointed in myself and I promise you I can do better. I just need some guidance. I’m sorry to anyone I may have let down. I hope I can grow form this and make this story the best it can be.

Edit: I think it’s also nessissary to note that the positive triats are for when the person is in balance or in a good head space, the negative ones for the opposite. That’s why the negative and positive triats seam like opposites, bc that’s what they are. Idk if I made that clear so I’m adding it now!

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 2 - Facades, Family and Forgery

Chapter 2 already, wow! We are now 10k words in and there is no fucking way this story will be told in under 10 chapters. I guess more fun for you readers? This chapter is mostly me figuring out the different plot threads out. And to do the Jaskier has ADHD tag justice. The executive dysfunction is strong in that one. Also, I am still looking for a beta reader for this fic, if you’re interested.

Summary: Jaskier wakes up with two new additions to his household. Time to get the plan on tracks. 

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

Read on AO3

When Jaskier woke up the next morning he couldn't quite force himself to get out of bed. There were days like that, he knew. When the world outside of his pillows and blankets just wasn't interesting enough to lure him out of his heavy cocoon of warmth and bliss. Not that the world inside was any more interesting, but at least he didn't have to move to get there.

It wasn't as if there weren't enough things to do. Melitele have mercy, there was a whole fucking lot to do. There had been some complaints about taxes lately what with the war and a cow had died on the far end of Lettenhove and then there was the matter with Cirilla and Geralt and- ughhh.

He flopped over on his stomach. "It's too much," he complained into his pillow.

He supposed he really should get up, though. The matter of the lost princess half the continent was looking for in his house was somewhat time sensitive, after all.

Ah, there was the other problem. Not only had he woken up already bored, he had also woken up feeling guilty. He wasn't a cruel man; he didn't want anyone to suffer. Anyone but Geralt, and even him just a little bit. He was just angry and he didn't think he'd be able to trust him again for a long time and- great, his mind was getting side-tracked again.

What had he been thinking about before? He groaned again, trying to force his body to get up while he attempted to sort his thoughts that were hidden behind some mysterious fog in his mind. Not a muscle moved. He hated the fog days. He much preferred the days when his mind moved too fast for anyone to follow instead. Well, anyone but Geralt, that was. He had always been rather good at that and now that he was back it could be like that again, maybe. 'No!' he told himself determinately. 'I am still cross with him. I can't allow him to get under my skin that easily again.'

He started tapping out a rapid rhythm on his blanket. 'Oh good,' he thought. 'So, I can move. You know what would be great now? Getting out of bed.' He continued tapping his rhythm, the rest of his body still not moving.

Jaskier sighed heavily. What had he been thinking about? Cirilla, right. Truth be told he was glad, that she was here now. And that she was with Geralt. He didn't want any harm to come to her and there were... approximately two people and a dead horse on the entire continent he would trust her life with.

'Pity that Roach died before making it here,' he caught himself thinking. 'I think she would have liked it. Maybe I should get him a replacement? And the princess, too, they can't very well ride double all the time and I won't allow Geralt to make the poor girl walk the whole way. I know what that's like, I had to suffer through it long enough. I wonder if she likes flowers? She deserves a nice saddle. And nice clothes, too! Oh, maybe I can call a tailor. That would be a great opportunity to get Geralt into something resembling fashion, too. Maybe even a bit of colour? Oh, bad memories, that went totally sideways the last time we tried-'

"Fuck!" he cursed quietly. One moment he had been thinking about Roach and the next about Pavetta's betrothal - how had he even gotten there? And what had he been thinking about before that?

Right, two people and a dead horse. One of them had nearly died on Sodden Hill according to his intelligence and the other one was somewhere in Lettenhove Hall - preferably in his room next to Cirilla (of course he hadn't separated them, he was no complete monster). He should probably go talk to her soon. Welcome her, apologise for his harsh treatment of the day before, that sort of thing.

Ah, yes, like that he could put the cranky villagers off for a while. Slowly, he sat up. 'Finally.'

He still needed a plan. Jaskier groaned and dropped back down.

"Why did I do this?" he whined into the empty room. "It's always easier when I'm already sitting."

Well, now he wasn't sitting anymore. Great. And the idea of meeting the princess was not enticing enough to move him again. Great.

"I really need to get better at this..." He just laid there for a while, staring at the canopy above, following the same colourful threads with his eyes he had stared at a thousand times, bored out of his mind. Yet, every time he tried to pull a thought close it either vanished or actively tried to get away, to be replaced with the insufferable chorus of The Fishmonger's Daughter. 'Why on earth did I write such a despicable song?' he asked himself not for the first time.

His salvation came in form of a firm knock. "My lord?" the voice of Jakub, his manservant sounded muffled through the wood. "Are you up yet?"

"Almost!" Suddenly, it was very easy to jump out of bed and scurry over to the clothes laid out for him. "You, Jakub" he exclaimed excitedly when he entered with a tray of food, "are god-sent. You see, I just couldn't bring myself to get up and go about my day and the you appeared and now it is all very easy- Oh, are those raspberry tarts? I love those-"

"They are, my lord," he answered calmly and moved to lace up Jaskier's shirt, while the latter shoved little raspberry cakes into his mouth.

He could see his exasperation plain on his face when that didn't keep him from talking: "I couldn't even think right, I was thinking about Roach and the witcher and do you think the girl would like an embroidered saddle? I was thinking buttercups, though, no, that would be better for my next one. Can saddles be embroidered posthumously? No, that's not the right word, I seem to have forgotten it- Jakub, you are very silent today, is everything alright?"

"Quite, my lord. You are very talkative today. I wouldn't want to interrupt you."

"Right," his mind seemed to slow for just a moment. "I am sorry about that. It seems I am having one of those days."

The servant shook out the doublet and held it for him to slip into the sleeves. "Shall I inform the staff, my lord?"

"I think that would be reasonable. How are my dear sisters?"

"Very vocal about their displeasure to share a roof with a witcher, my lord." He buttoned up the last of Jaskier's doublet.

Jaskier frowned and popped the last two buttons open again. "Only Janina, I hope?"

"Indeed, my lord. She has also pronounced her plans to leave for Goldfurt immediately. They are already packing. Lady Józefa, on the other hand, appears quite smitten with... both of your guests."

He wrinkled his nose and ate the last of the raspberry tarts. "As I have feared. Stop the packing at once, no one is to leave Lettenhove unless I tell them to. Until further notice. Make time in my schedule for both of them." He halted and sat down to let Jakub put on his boots. "Actually, clear my whole schedule for the day." He sucked the last of the sour berry juice from his fingers. "But be sure to put the names of my sisters and my two guests on it. And think of solutions."

"Think of solutions, my lord?"

He shot him a confused look. "Did I say something else?"

"Not at all, my lord," Jaskier admired him for keeping a straight face. "I just wanted to make sure."

"Good." He looked around. It was obviously light in his rooms, so it couldn't be that early anymore. He only hoped he hadn't wasted half of his day. Again. "What time is it?"

"The sun has risen an hour ago and your witcher with it. He is stalking the halls in the guest wing and frightening the servants."

Jaskier frowned. "Send someone to tell him to stop. I won't have that."

"If I may be so frank, my lord?"

He waved his hand as a sign for him to continue.

"I fear you may be pressed to find some kind of occupation for him lest you want this to be a frequent occurrence. As long as he is meant to be in your service, I mean."

"I know. I am already thinking about it." He flashed him a bright smile. "That is exactly why you will put 'think of solutions' on the schedule. If he gets too restless before I find one, send him to the stables. He's good with horses."

"Shall I write down the issues you need to find them for, too?"

He smiled even brighter. "See? That is why you are in my service. You are very clever."

For a moment he thought, Jakub smiled, too. "Thank you, my lord." He surely had to be mistaken.

"Just do not put the names of my guests on it, if you please. Such a document would be very dangerous indeed."

He blinked. "I do not know the names of the witcher and the girl yet, my lord."

"Even better." He leaned back and folded his hands across his stomach. "Now go. I believe you've got a witcher to chastise."

Jakub looked very uneasy all of a sudden. "And the girl, my lord?"

Jaskier stood and straightened his doublet. "And the girl, indeed, Jakub. And the girl, indeed."

He made his way towards the door and was only stopped when Jakub said: "Your sword, my lord."

"Right!" He whirled around and took the offered weapon, tightening the belt. "I'm bad with new things, I'm sorry..."

"Always the same routine, Lord Julian," he said quietly and Jaskier half suspected that he wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Right," he answered cheerfully, "and I always forget." He was already out the door when he peeked his head back inside. "Don't forget the schedule," he reminded his manservant with a quick smile. "And the pacing witcher."

For the first time in a long while there was an odd little spring in his step when Jaskier walked. He even smiled at some of the servants, startling poor Marta that she dropped the pitcher of water she was carrying. When he apologised and bent to pick up the shards, she dropped the mop, too.

It was just his luck that that was the moment Józefa rushed along. "My darling sister," he jumped into her way, "how are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, Julek," she kissed him on the cheek lightly. "It seems you are, too."

"It seems, doesn't it?" He smiled at her. "Where are you going?"

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Jaskier gasped and clutched at his chest in mock hurt. "Why, can't a man not crave a simple conversation with his sister to wish her a good morning?"

"A different man, most certainly. You are not that kind of man. So?"

He smirked and batted his eyelashes at her. "Will you do me a favour?"

"Depends," she crossed her arms. "What's in it for me?"

"You get to spend more time with our lovely young guest, uh-"

"Fiona?" she supplied.

"Fiona! That's good! Show her around the castle, will you? The stables, the gardens, the library. Find out what she likes."

"I will. Will you tell me who she is in turn?"

Jaskier laughed. "Most certainly. A hundred different stories. Will you spread them for me?"

"I have already written Nadia and Irena about it; the word will be out in no time. You know they cannot keep their mouths shut. Will any of these stories be true?"

"Perhaps. Not a word about who she arrived with, I trust?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about? She arrived alone. The witcher isn't due to arrive until tomorrow."

"I do love you, Józia." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek, too. "Why have you never come to Oxenfurt? I am sure Dijkstra would be delighted to have you in his faculty."

"I would have. Alas, I think one runaway is enough for the family." She winked. "Off you go, brother, I'm sure you have a lot of things to do."

He groaned loudly. "Don't remind me..." Still he walked away, quickly bending out of the way of a servant. "See you at dinner," he called after her, "and keep Janina out of my hair for a few hours, will you?"

She laughed loudly. "I'll do my worst. Good day, my lord." And with that she had twirled around a corner and vanished.

Jaskier took his time to check upon the kitchens and the stables and his new horse, Pegasus. He was still small, hardly large enough to be ridden yet, but in a year or two he would make a very fine steed, he hoped. Not that he knew anything about horses but he trusted that he would be in good hands with his stablemaster Wiktor. He also informed the man that he could expect a very grumpy witcher to join him in the course of the day who he was advised to treat kindly.

"Why?" Wiktor asked distrustful. "Is he dangerous?"

Jaskier smiled brightly at that. "Not in the slightest. It is I who do not take kindly to insults made about my guests."

The old equerry shrugged. "As long as he's kind to the horses he won't find any trouble here."

"Good." He turned to leave. "Should there be trouble regardless, call for me if you will."

He grunted in reply. 'The two of them will get along very well,' he thought. He passed Cirilla and Józefa on his way inside and smiled and waved at them. When his sister signalled for him that Janina was nearby, he slipped away quickly.

When he shouldered the door to his study open, laden with an array of heavy tomes there was his schedule on his desk already. "Good man, Jakub," he muttered and began sorting through the books and sheets of parchments. Once satisfied he plopped down on his seat.

"Now, father," he murmured and pulled open the drawer of the desk, closely examining the writing utensils, "let's see what kind of semi-legal activities you were prepared for."

A fully developed plan had settled in his mind during the course of the morning. All that was needed now, was a tiny bit of forgery and they would be on their merry way. It should be done in no more than four hours - with some kind of allowance, he was a bit rusty after all.

He was just correcting the last few strokes on the fake latter he had written, when there were furious steps in the corridor. "Julian Alfred Pankratz!" The door flew open with a bang and nearly knocked an unspeakably ugly vase off its pedestal.

"Not the vase," Jaskier said emotionless, "Father loved it oh so much."

Janina ignored him completely as she stormed inside with swirling skirts. "What," she demanded and slammed her hands on his desk with just enough time for him to save his handiwork, "were you thinking?"

"Good day to you, too, dear sister," he said and blew the ink dry. "What has gotten into you?"

"You can't just order me to stay!"

He tapped the tip of his quill against his lip as if he were contemplating the issue. "In fact, I can." He pointed her quill at her. "I already have."

"I will not tolerate this! I refuse to live under the same roof as a mutant-"

He rolled his eyes as he tried to secure as many breakable objects on his desk as possible. "Here we go..."

"- who steals and eats children!" She grabbed a bar of seal wax and chucked it across the room. "I knew you were eccentric; I knew you travelled with one of them for two decades though I cannot fathom why, but bringing on here? Forcing me to share my home with him? A home you haven't even deigned to visit in the last quarter century? You are going too far, Julian!"

"Are you finished?"

"Finished?" she shouted. "I haven't even started yet!" Jaskier sighed and leaned his chin on his palm. That could take a while. He suffered through her tirade dispassionately, trying to flesh out the last details of his plan while she raged on and on and on. He had long learned to stop listening to her rants. Until- "And the child!"

He sighed. "What about her?"

"Who is she even-"

"None of your business."

"-one of your bastards? Did you bed a monster to need a witcher to bring her here?"

He stood abruptly. "Janina, you go too far."

"No, Julian, you went too far! Twenty years ago, when you just vanished! And then you just show up again and get the title."

"I didn't want it!" he shouted back. "I still don't want it! It was what father wanted, not me. Do not confuse your anger at him with your anger at me!"

"You still took it!"

"Take it back once I am a dead, for all I care. But as long as I am breathing, I am the Lord of Lettenhove, whether we like it or not. When I tell you, you do not leave, you do not leave. Get it together, Janina. I will not have you insult my guests any longer."

She narrowed her eyes to slits and leaned in close. "I hate you," she hissed in his ear. Then, she whirled around and stalked from the room.

"Well, you're not my favourite sister at the moment either!" he called after her, though his voice was drowned out by the bang the door shut with.

With a sigh he sat back down and pulled his letters out again. It was not his best work, he had to admit, though anything he forged these days could hardly compare to what he had done during his time in Oxenfurt. He had memorised the handwriting of all of his classmates perfectly and of quite a few professors and nobles, too. That had been one of the reasons why Dijkstra had recruited him in the first place. Well, that and that there were not many people who were as reliable as him when it came to spreading as well as listening to rumours.

He was just dispassionately drawing a scrawly sketch by young 'Fiona' - always a nice touch - when the door flew open again. "You frighten Ciri with your shouting," Geralt growled.

Jaskier was very glad that an angry witcher had long lost its effect on him. "You frighten my people with your pacing," he shot back.

Geralt snarled. "I have stopped."

"Good," he answered and turned back to his sketch, purposefully smudging the lines. No child ever drew without smudging the lines. When the witcher was still in the door a few moments later he looked up again. "I have stopped shouting, too."

"Just... don't do it again!"

"I'm sorry," he said slowly and put his pencil down. "What did you just say?"

That gave him the opportunity to see something truly marvellous happen: for a moment he saw a witcher - oh no, not just any witcher, but Geralt of Rivia - pale. "Nothing."

"Interesting sounds you make when you say nothing."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" Geralt's eyes darted around like a doe's before being shot. "Fuck, Jaskier, I can't read you anymore."

He allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. 'Good.' "I want another tone, witcher. You're forgetting who you're talking to. And I want you to never utter that name within these walls again."

"Jaskier?" He sounded confused. 'Poor man.' "It's your name, what else should I call you?"

"Oh? I thought I'd told you already. You may call me "my lord", here."

Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Jaskier could see how he was fighting with himself. "Forgive me, my lord," he said finally, "I did not mean to." He didn't clarify what he hadn't meant to but for the moment that was enough for Jaskier. "Is there anything else?"

"Come sit with me, witcher," Jaskier said and pointed to the chair opposite to him. "Time to tell you why you are here."

Begrudgingly he pushed away from the door and sat down across him. If he didn't know it any better, Jaskier could have sworn he was limping. "Why am I here then, my lord?"

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. "First things first: The girl you didn't arrive with is one my cousins."

"Cousin," Geralt deadpanned.

He waved his hand around. "Distant relative, I have a lot of them. You see, she normally lives with her family down in Verden but has recently been orphaned. And because I have such a soft heart, I have decided to take her in. I have visited my dear cousin Daniela not three years past and have become acquainted with the girl then. We have been in contact ever since I got here. Look, not three months ago Daniela even sent me a sketch Fiona had made!"

He held up the drawing he was working on and let Geralt scowl at it. "It's hideous."

He very nearly pouted. "Don't be mean, witcher. Cousin Fiona drew this!"

He sighed. "Fine. That's a good story but what if they discover you don't actually have a cousin named Fiona?"

"What do you mean? I actually do have a cousin Daniela in Verden! Well, did, she died in the cradle but that's the least of my problems." He turned the big tome he had been working on around. "Good thing Lettenhove uses the good parchment for the family records, eh? So easy to scratch one date off, replace it by another and add a new name. It's clear as day, witcher. The girl staying at my home is Fiona Nowak and no-one can doubt it. And we are all thrilled to have her here."

Geralt stared at the family tree and the letters in disbelief. "How did you..."

"I didn't attend Oxenfurt Academy for nothing, keep it up, witcher. Anyways, where was I?"

"You wanted to tell me what I am doing here."

"Why, you're just an old friend of mine, arriving tomorrow, by the way, enjoying my company and drowning your grief about your dead child surprise you never knew in my wine cellar while I comfort you with my ballads."

"Really?"

His expression grew serious once more. "No, witcher. My wine cellar is off limits. As are my ballads."

He nodded, looking over the letters again. "That is more than I hoped for, actually," Geralt confessed. "You do not have to keep us here. My lord."

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully. "I assume you had a destination with Cousin Fiona?"

He grunted.

"Words, witcher."

"Kaedwen."

He sighed. "And I assume it is not exactly near Montecalvo? Or Mirt? Or anywhere within a reasonable distance of here?"

"No, my lord."

"I didn't think so. So, your plan was to cross one mountain range travel through probably half of Kaedwen in what? One month before your wherever-you're-going becomes inaccessible due to the snow? The leaves start falling already. Normally you were nowhere to be seen by now."

Geralt blinked stupidly as if he was realising only now just how ridiculous that sounded.

"No, witcher, I think it is better for you to stay here for the winter and start out again come spring. So, you are not only staying a week. Which is why I need a good cover story to explain how my household has gained two new members."

He didn't reply to that for a while, just sat there and ducked his head. Then, very quietly: "Thank you, my lord."

"Do not thank me yet. Thank me once we have weathered this winter without being disturbed. I am a bit concerned about... some of the loyalties in my hose."

He snorted. "I noticed. It seems not all of your family are as inclined to my kind as you are."

"You'd do best to keep your ears to yourself here, witcher." Jaskier frowned. Of course, he should have thought of that before starting a screaming match with Janina. Well, he would have to remember for the future.

"I will. Though if you ever needed someone to talk to, my lord-"

"I will certainly not call upon you." That hurt. He could see it in Geralt's eyes. 'Not as much as the mountain, I bet.'

The witcher wrinkled his nose in disgust, grossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

Jaskier did his best to turn back to the letters, he still had to age them after all, but his skin prickled under the intense stare of his former friend. "What?" he snapped after a short while.

Geralt raised an eyebrow in answer.

"There's something bothering you, I can sense it. Out with it. Now."

He sighed and leaned forward. "Where are all the people, my lord?"

"What people?" He scoffed. "I'm just a viscount, witcher. And although I might be famous for my life before returning to my rightful place, we do not entertain big courts. The biggest thing that happens here is the annual fair. Then people from my other two villages and a few in the area come here to get drunk and leave again a week later."

"You're still rich, though. I expected-"

"What?"

"- a bard, maybe?"

"Why would I be in need of a bard?"

"Some friends from Oxenfurt, then?"

"I appear to have lost them when I took to the Path for a quarter century."

"You have two other sisters-"

"Married."

"Nieces and nephews-"

"Too young."

"Cousins-!"

"Stop it!"

"You're evading my questions, bard."

"And you're overstepping your boundaries," he hissed. "I am no bard anymore. Back off, witcher!"

Something changed in Geralt's expression. A tiny part that had been soft, hardened once more. "Right..." he said quietly. "In that case, my lord, forgive me."

"Leave," Jaskier ordered icily.

"Jas- my lord-" Geralt started but he didn't even let him finish: "I don't care, I tell you to leave, you leave."

He got up with a quiet sigh. "Sure. Whatever my lord commands." The door still shut behind him with a bang.

“If all of you,” he shouted after him, “could stop abusing my poor doorframes, it would be greatly appreciated!”

The door opened again and Jakub peered inside. “Is something the matter, my lord?”

“No,” he huffed as he collected the letters. “Everything is going just peachy. Why wouldn’t it be with my witcher-hating sister – who also hates me by the way – a witcher, his- charge and everyone else in my household who dislikes me for some reason or another!”

He blinked, obviously overwhelmed with the burst of words of his lord. “My lord?”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Just forget it. Find out if the witcher's injured. Once you have an answer, come to me at once."

He bowed quickly. “Of course, my lord.”

And with that he brushed past him out of the study, armed with letters and family tree alike, looking for his sisters. The viscount had news to deliver.

[lesbianrobin]

oh.... yes..... as an adhd steve-lover (and person who has a history of unknowingly crushing on adhd characters) i beg to hear ur reasoning......... please...

alright so a lot of this is gonna be like projection ddnkjcn and it turned into more of a general character analysis than an adhd analysis and i’m sure that some things i describe will differ from your personal experience so feel free to critique me but here goes:

Why Steve Harrington Has ADHD

Steve struggles in school, yeah, but that’s not really… crucial to my reasoning? I personally did pretty well in school despite having difficulties with getting work done on time and understanding certain things. The fact that he clearly tried to do well and just couldn’t is what’s important. That’s a classic ADHD thing, feeling like there’s some kind of invisible block making it impossible to think the way you’re supposed to be thinking and do the things you’re supposed to be doing. We see him studying a few different times with Nancy (though he’s reluctant to focus on the task in s1), it’s implied he’s written multiple drafts of the essay that he shows Nancy in the beginning of s2, meaning that he wants to do well. After Nancy critiques his essay, he basically decides to give up because he’ll never be able to make it good enough, and he probably shouldn’t even bother applying to college, and he’ll just end up working for his dad anyway. It’s a bit of an extreme jump from the relatively mild criticism he receives, but it seems to me like the kind of mindset that I (and others with ADHD) fall into constantly. First of all, rewriting something you’ve already written when you have ADHD can be… torturous. It’s impossible to focus because you’ve done it already, it feels pointless and boring, and your brain is just done with the topic. To Steve, there’s no point in even trying because he’s never gonna get it right, and he’d rather not even try than apply to college and have to suffer rejection. ADHD isn’t laziness or apathy. People with ADHD actually tend to care a lot about their performance in various aspects of life, and they care so much that it can often either propel them to excellence or drive them to depression over failure (whether that failure is true or perceived). Spoiler alert: we’re about to get into rejection sensitive dysphoria, folks!

I think this describes Steve perfectly. He wants to be the best at everything (Prom King, anyone?) and he cares a lot about what people think of him (to the degree that he spent three of his four years in high school behaving specifically to avoid the possibility of Tommy H and others making fun of him). Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, or RSD, is a condition which impacts almost all people with ADHD. This means that they are far more sensitive than most people to what others think about them. Think about Steve’s entire character arc: he essentially spends season one chasing the approval of Tommy, Carol, and Nancy. When Tommy and Carol’s desired behavior differs from Nancy’s, causing conflict, he’s forced to take a look at himself and decide what’s more important to him: pleasing his friends, or doing what’s right. Since Steve is a certified angel, he goes with what’s right, and from there goes on to apologize to Jonathan and help him and Nancy fight the Demogorgon. (Sidenote: the fistfight with Jonathan could definitely be considered as further evidence of ADHD! RSD can cause extreme emotional reactions when the person in question feels that they have been hurt or rejected, such as Steve believing that Nancy cheated on him with Jonathan. The fact that Steve resorted to cruel insults that he clearly doesn’t believe shows that he was acting out of his own hurt and anger, not out of true hatred for Jonathan.) 

Anyway, s1 Steve’s entire life is built around seeking approval from his peers. He realizes that his desire for approval has turned him into somebody that he doesn’t like, so he makes a change, and by s2 we see that he’s shifted somewhat: Now, he wants to please Nancy. He’s able to handle being mocked by Billy and Tommy H because he no longer puts any stock in their brand of approval, but being told by Nancy that she doesn’t love him elicits another (somewhat) extreme emotional response: he immediately leaves her at the party with Jonathan and doesn’t pick her up for school the next morning. He’s upset with her. Later on, he goes to her house with flowers intending to apologize, though he doesn’t actually know what he’s apologizing for. All he wants is for Nancy to be with him and like him again, because he can’t handle feeling unloved and rejected. S2 is also where we see Steve’s academic insecurity, and he hints at issues with feeling like a failure in the eyes of his father. By the end of the season, he’s able to handle not being loved by Nancy because he’s found a new source of self-esteem and approval: Dustin and the rest of the kids. Through acting as their “babysitter,” Steve’s found something to take pride in that nobody can take away from him. Billy may have overshadowed his basketball stardom and broken his keg stand record, but Steve no longer needs these shallow achievements to feel a sense of self-worth. 

S3 shows that, although he’s moved on from seeking approval from specific peers, Steve is still stuck searching for validation. He flirts indiscriminately hoping for anybody to respond positively, and he gets a job to appease his father. Here, I’m gonna jump ahead a little bit (because that’s just the way my brain is saying it’s gotta be lmao) and talk about a few of Steve’s other canon traits, then circle back around to how we see his ongoing struggle with RSD manifest in s3.

Now for the trait that people more commonly associate with ADHD, especially in men and young boys: hyperactivity. This one is a little more self-explanatory so I’m not gonna spend as much time on it. Steve excels in situations with clearly defined rules and expectations where it’s easier to stay on-track, as well as in high-pressure, fast-paced environments. This is why he succeeds in basketball and why he’s such a big damn hero every season. He thinks on his feet and steps up in intense situations without hesitation. Steve is the one who wedged something under the elevator door so that everyone could escape, he’s the one who took out a Russian soldier before he was able to alert anybody else, and when he saw Billy about to ram into Team Griswold Family, he crashed into Billy’s car. Part of this is the fact that it’s a sci-fi action horror show, and there are going to be dramatic action-packed situations, but it’s telling that if Steve is around, he’s almost always the one leaping into danger and adapting to the situation to deal with it quickly. Speaking of s3: The conversation Steve and Robin had on the floor in the Russian torture chamber!

This feeds into an even more elaborate Steve meta theory of mine about how he basically lives his life as if it’s a play and there’s a script and a set of rules that he’s gotta follow to please the audience, so I’m not gonna go into ALL of it, but this conversation is also important to the idea of Steve having ADHD and struggling with RSD. Steve says, “It just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just… bullshit.” When Robin says that she feels like her life has been “one big error,” he agrees. So far, Steve has lived his whole life according to one set of rules. If you flirt with girls and go to parties and play basketball, you’ll be cool and popular. Now that he’s graduated, he’s floundering. The structure of high school is gone and everything he worked for doesn’t actually matter in real life. People with ADHD often struggle more than others with the transition from high school to either college or the working world. Loss of familiar frameworks, routines, and actions can hit the ADHD mind hard, and this is pretty clearly happening to Steve in s3. In the beginning of the season, he can’t even manage to have a decent conversation with a girl without bringing up school and his own perceived failures. Sidenote: Robin also mentions that Steve was late to class every single day, which is both extremely relatable to me and the most ADHD thing I’ve ever heard. I knew exactly how long it took me to get from my house to the school, and I woke up with plenty of time to get ready every single morning, yet I somehow managed to be late so many mornings that I got multiple detentions and ended up having to skip a couple of classes entirely because another tardy would have fucked up my disciplinary record.

Later on in the bathroom scene, when he’s talking about why he didn’t talk to Robin back in school, Steve says, “…maybe ‘cause Tommy H would’ve made fun of me or I wouldn’t be Prom King. It’s stupid…” and it’s somewhat of a continuation of the earlier conversation. Steve is expressing the same sentiment. Now that he’s out of high school, everything that he once used to measure his success and self-worth is just stupid. This is another classic RSD thing! People with ADHD/RSD often set impossibly high standards for themselves and then struggle with self-hatred and doubt when they cannot live up to these expectations. Robin kind of inspires and encourages him to set new, more attainable standards for himself. Spending time with Robin makes Steve happy in a way that he’s never really been before, and he realizes that all of the benchmarks of normalcy and success that he’s been striving for don’t guarantee happiness like they’re supposed to. Instead of finding happiness in academic, romantic, or athletic success, he finds happiness in an unlikely friendship. His whole arc for three seasons has essentially been a big struggle with RSD and impulsivity where he learned how to handle social rejection and place the needs and feelings of others before his own.

There’s also a ton of little things in Joe Keery’s acting choices that support ADHD Steve, like his near-perpetual motion and the way that he’s gotta pace and eat a damn banana (both the traditional way and the no-homo breaking it into pieces way, might I add) so he can listen to Dustin talk about the Russian code. I personally relate to a lot of things he does, like mixing up basic names and facts (like Nazis/Germans in s2 and Gumby/gumbo in s3), and needing to explain a whole situation out loud before he really gets it (like when he runs down the entire monster situation in the mall in s3). I don’t know if those are ADHD things but they make me feel Seen. 

Anyways. That’s about it!! Thanks for asking lmao

[abcsofadhd]

On being diagnosed with ADHD in midlife

@campfiresbeerandcoffee got diagnosed with ADHD in their early 50s and I asked them to share their story. 

It’s kinda long but its a damn interesting read about a person’s experience with ADHD and a late diagnosis. It’s VERY well written and I’ve only spaced it out and bolded it for better readability.

Remember, it’s really NEVER too late to get a diagnosis.

I’ve known people with ADHD most of my life. I knew what it was, obviously. It was that boy who was socially inappropriate and weird, the one who got angry too fast, who touched oddly, who couldn’t sit still. 

It was the squirrel brained women I knew, that changed jobs, were super smart, had multiple competencies and could instantly grasp systems, but had so much drive they were always up, always working, always learning. It wasn’t ME.

It didn’t even occur to me that I had ADHD. I wasn’t a problem. I sat quietly in class, lost in my own thoughts, doodling. I could focus for hours on books, on coding, on the grains of sand on a sunny beach. I certainly didn’t have an attention disorder. 

My dad died in my 2nd year of uni. I didn’t do well. Well meaning counselors said I was high strung and should avoid all sugar and stimulants. Are you kidding? Caffeine kept me sane. Eventually I changed majors, and managed to graduate with a BA.

I even managed to get into grad school, and did entrepreneur things too. But eventually I crumbled again and didn’t finish my thesis. I had anger issues. I was high then low. I would rage and weep. I’d spend weeks in apathy, when I had everything I wanted: a business, a wife, wonderful family. But it was a long dark bleak tunnel every day.

Then I heard a radio show on chronic depression and recognized my symptoms. Got some help and medication, and managed to co-found a company.  The anti-depression meds helped, settling on Wellbutrin eventually. But things were still hard.

I got a straight job to help my wife start her career. I worked in an office, coding and structuring information systems. Prestige, recognition, it was great for my ego, good benefits and fair pay. 

10 years in this high performance position I crashed from accumulated stress when my mom died. I was prepared with Wellbutrin and counselling and even so I burned out with major depression and anxiety and ptsd symptoms.  

Took 3 years off work before I dared to take a job with minimal responsibility. In that time I had full on major ADHD symptoms but didn’t recognize them. I couldn’t say what I did all day. 

I couldn’t make a list, couldn’t go in the store. Couldn’t read. Couldn't feed myself. Couldn’t clean. Couldn’t listen. Just- floated in a fog of stress and anxiety. Developed skin issues, auto-immune issues, insomnia, eye twitches. Couldn’t even sit at a computer screen. I was completely useless. Couldn’t leave the house.

Eventually tho, as I worked through what I thought was PTSD, learning to accept the new broken me, I was able to watch a full 20 minute sitcom. Success! I was elated. Who could I tell? Who would celebrate that as an achievement? Yay, you watched TV? Pffft. 

But I was thrilled. And I could go to the store. Maybe even buy a few things. Often I’d just sit in the parking lot. But increasingly I could do some things around the house. Walk the dogs. Buy milk. So I accepted when opportunity offered me a lower-stress job related to my interests.

At my new job, I learned to make eye contact again, slowly re-learned to do simple math again. Cashing out would take me over an hour. I tried so hard to remember names and orders. Failed miserably. Tried to accept the new no-brain me. Found comfort in routine tasks. Developed coping strategies for memory. Accepted that maybe my purpose was to be a heart not a brain. My whole self-worth was always being the smart expert. Now I was busted. But that was ok, because it had to be! 

Medicated with prescription cannabis and started seeing big improvements in depressive symptoms. That led to being able to exercise. Exercise helped immensely. So I was bringing in a bit of money, I was leaving the house and interacting, and felt much better.

Met a co-worker who told me about her ADHD. I understood completely. Had my first “a-ha!” moment when someone asked me how was it that  I understood her. Oh. OH! Other people don’t understand her, and I do. Why?

But, I couldn’t be ADHD, surely? My coworker was classic ADHD in the way I then understood it. Changing topics all over in conversation, but I’d follow right along? We’d chat for hours after work. I grew to admire her strategies for getting things done, her tenacity, her acceptance that she could do things differently. 

And as I admired her force-of-nature engagement with the world, her acceptance of herself, I started to be open to the idea that there was more to ADHD than I thought. I really didn’t think I was ADHD, but how was it I could understand and keep up with her? And when I asked her about it, she looked at me like of course I probably had ADHD, and she thought I already knew?

So after working with her for 2 years I started to read about ADHD, because I was experiencing a little less stress and could focus to read again. But I hadn’t found out yet about the emotional dysregulation. I just knew I was functioning again, kinda. And so I embraced the feelings. I chased them, like an addict, seeking to feel good again.  

And boy did it feel good to let myself feel. I’d learned to build a box around my emotions, because I was always too sensitive, too happy, too sad, too worried. At my coding job, I just lost myself in matrices and code and denied my emotions.  My coworkers had affectionately called me Mr. Roboto. That hurt. But that was the old me. Now, I was going to LIVE and FEEL HAPPY, and it was great. I was elated. 

I partied and made new friends and drank too much and got stoned too much and talked too much and in my exploration  I left such wreckage around me. I was oblivious at first. But when I saw what I’d done, I was in torment. If I couldn’t be a brain, and I couldn’t be a heart, then what good was I? I desperately wanted to be ordinary, but I didn’t know how, and I was going to lose everything.

And then as I tried to get a handle on my behavior, some ADHD memes popped up on social media, and then they popped up with a funny story and I related. And again. And again. And I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Your blog specifically woke me up to the emotional dysregulation aspect, and following that thread of research made my likely ADHD undeniable. So I did the predictable thing and denied it for another year.

Finally I went in for assessment because if I had it, I couldn’t let my kids go untested and if I was going to ask them to try, I had to start with me. Doc didn’t even blink. Basically said, of course you have ADHD. 

This has been everyone’s reaction, when I share my diagnosis with my friends: “Are you really surprised, really?” Yes, dammit, I am! It’s surprising and hard to hear, yes, you are in fact broken. But it’s also freeing. I can stop beating myself up.  I can get appropriate help. I can try meds.

I am terrified of stimulants, because I’m super sensitive to caffeine, and even Wellbutrin was unsustainable for me, causing too much jitters. But I’m taking my Vyvanse and being hopeful. If it doesn’t work out, there is a non stimulant option.

 I know meds won’t solve everything. I know that I have so many of the strategies already, I recognize them in the ADHD forums, and books. But maybe meds will leave me enough energy to address things. Maybe I’ll be able to Get Things Done.

This medicated hopeful happiness does feel a bit like mania, I’ve learned to be distrustful of my happiness. But if it’s going to be helpful, I’m going to try it.  It’s early days.

I’m reading Gina Petra’s Is It You, Me, or Adult ADD? Stopping the Roller Coaster When Someone You Love Has Attention Deficit Disorder. And it’s wrenching. I knew my latest crisis was hard on my family, but I didn’t realize it’s been the whole marriage, it’s been my whole life, school, college, career, midlife! It’s enlightening but hard to read testimonials from people living with untreated ADHD partners, and recognize myself in their stories. I had no idea of the extent ADHD was contributing to my personality and behavior.

My wife and kids deserve to be off the rollercoaster. I also deserve to be happy. I want to look forward to each day again instead of waking up knowing I’m going to fuck up again.

So it’s not a comfortable place to be, here in the spotlight. But it sure as hell beats being in the dark and blindly flinging myself in a new direction. It’s revealing. It means taking personal responsibility. 

But it also means hope. Hope that it can be better. Hope I can stop hurting the people I love. Hope I can be the person I want to be, the person I’ve been on occasion. It means hope for sustainable stable relationships and jobs. 

[angcliics]

(    cherry  chapstick  coated  lips  inhaling  from  a  dab  pen  ,  oversized  flannels  hanging  off  of  bare  shoulders  ,  an  easy  laugh  over  a  constant  hum  of  music    )     *    ╱    hey  ,  was  that    andrea “andi” cahill    i  just  saw    ?    yeah  ,  i  heard  they’re  a    twenty - two    year  old  and  studying     political  science    and  that  they  live  in    hermes   . you  might  be  able  to  recognise  them  by  their   cartier  love  necklace   ,  but  people  around  campus  describe  them  as    generous    but  also    impatient    ,  which  i  guess  makes  sense  since  their  mbti  test  showed  up  as    infj   .  their  reputation  would  be  completely  ruined  if  people  found  out  that    she’s  struggled  with  drug  addiction    ,  but  let’s  keep  that  between  you  and  me  …  for  now  .   +  zendaya  ,  cisfemale  ,  she/her  ,  junior  .  

hi, hello, ur trash ari checking in with my trash baby, andi. let’s get right into the viDeO !!

i tend to ramble so i’m gonna try to keep it short...ish.. and sweet...ish. hehe 

the WINDHAM-CAHILL family

andi was born to a bit of a tumultuous household. her mother is a renowned actress from the windham family-- think a dash of kennedy and a hint of the roberts, with old money going back generations on the east coast and a few well-known hollywood elites with accolades out west. 

her mother had developed a bit of a substance abuse problem, and was inconsistently present in her daugher’s life, always choosing to travel or hand andi off to the nanny or her father instead. when she was around, she was often interested in material things and shallow aspects of her daughter’s life– her clothes, her looks, her popularity– and was hardly satisfied with andi, always reminding her of where she came from and what she needed to be. 

her father, a wealthy self-made financier, is kind and well meaning, but unequipped to handle his wife’s issues oftentimes. the pair got into shouting matches and fights over her substance abuse issues and  and frequent absences often enough. regardless, andi is very devoted to her father, fiercely defensive of him in any family argument, and close with him, seeing him as a rock amidst the instability of her mother. 

she’s the eldest of three, with two younger brothers. she’s very protective of them as well, but as the only daughter, andi usually took the brunt of her mother’s nitpicking, perfectionistic projections and arguments. although easygoing, when continually faced with conflict, andi would at times fight back with her mother. part of her despises her mother, part of her still desperately wants to be good enough to finally get that mark of approval and hear “i’m proud of you.”

on the surface of course everything looked lovely: the beautiful, shining oscar-winning elizabeth windham, the american dream success story andrew cahill, and three children with talent and poise. andrew himself attended bellecotte for undergrad, and andi is proud to follow in his footsteps, although her father was a member of the house of zeus. 

personal HISTORY

feeling the pressure from her mother and the increased attention due to her family name and fame, andi always felt like she was the kind of student that had to “do it all” in high school. so she tried. she took the AP classes, sat on student council, went to football games and every party and was even prom queen. 

she has ADHD, so using adderall was first nature to her and doesn’t affect her the way it affects others, but after long days of going, going, going and feeling stress and pressure and having to do it all on all sides, she started using xanax and smoking weed often to chill out and deal with it all, and on the weekends you could find her drinking straight liquor straight-faced in between puffs off her pipe at house parties. 

still, she managed to keep it together enough to get into bellecotte, where she’s kept up much the same-- her struggles with xanax and other benzos in particular ebbing and flowing with how stressed and anxious and burnt out she is, and whatever she’s going through. she doesn’t hide her frequent marijuana use really-- always taking hits off of her dab pen, she’s quite a functional high after so many years.

studying political science because it interests her, and because she knows she’s ultimately lucky enough to have opportunities presented to her because of her parents’ careers, and wants to learn how to create and advocate for a more equitable system for those less fortunate. her father, as he’s self made, often took her back to his hometown and showed her how he grew up, so she knows it doesn’t all just come for free. unsure what exactly she wants to do post grad, whether that’s politics, film, writing, business-- but she’s interested in a lot of things. 

PERSONALITY

the GOOD: creative, determined, altruistic, passionate, insightful, protective 

the BAD: reticent, moody/sensitive at heart, prone to burn-out, possessive

has a tendency to hold grudges when hurt, desperately wants to be enough for someone to stay, really wants to be needed and loved for who she is instead of what she does or her name or anything else. 

an introvert that’s very good at extroverting, although it can exhaust her and by the end of the party she’s always found somewhere quiet to smoke and sneak off to. 

is the kind to be casually smoking a joint and then make a point about how the misconceptions of the aztec empire upon the arrival of white settlers were overblown and eventually grew into contributing to the general ethnocentric/westernized perspective of native american peoples being savages and uncivilized, right? god. and then laugh and go back to watching whatever’s on tv

a Flirt. u know it now. has always had lots of Boy things happening and tends to get herself into lots of messy shit in that arena. hookups, exes, boyfriends, fwbs, etc– handles it and talks about it with self depricating humor. part of it goes back to that kind of low self value she has deep down since she’s afraid she’s not enough for who she is, just good for the relationships she has and what she can give other people and such. 

tends to keep her sensitivity/insecurities to herself. copes with them by forcing herself to extrovert  harder and going out more and keeping herself busy. like i mentioned, she’s struggled with substance abuse to some extent since high school– drinking, smoking, dipping into some prescription pills to help with her grades, or her anxiety, or any number of things. you might suspect it if you’re very observant, but probably not- it’s usually hidden by a shimmering smile, the glint of a cartier love necklace, and a tight outfit with a warm “CHEEERS.” 

this is one thing she’ll get defensive about and deflect from, btw. she doesn’t want to acknowledge it because acknowledging it means she has another problem to deal with and it feels like she’s been dealing with this shit forever.

sarcastic, but not mean unless she’s comfortable with someone, in which case it’s a teasing-kind of sarcasm-mean. laid back– just as comfortable wandering around target for two hours, kind of high, as she is at a night club with a crowd of friends and expensive bottle service. definitely more adventurous when she’s a little drunk or high. very typical to find her on the roof watching the sunset and smoking a joint while writing or listening to music or just being there with someone. 

can be self-sacrificing, self-deprecating, will martyr herself, burn herself out, and become possessive and demanding at times in stress. she’s an enneagram type 2 if that helps u understand hehe. 

wanted CONNECTIONS

i have a tag, but generically, i’d love and am always down for ride or die, best friends, skinny love??, longtime friends, childhood friends, housemates, sibling like relationship, exes, ex one night stand/fwb, current fwb, enemies-ish, crushes (unrequited either way or mutual), maybe a roommate??, neighbors??  all of it ok *sharpay vc* i want it all !!

and this got long ofc even though i tried JESUS i hate me ok anyways hmu here or on discord for plots?? i love u all?? i’m so sorry??

[jigensass]

2018, 2018, 2018

Guess I should probably let how my overall evaluation of this year as a whole. 

Well, it was long. Very long. Black Panther felt almost forever ago as well as every other movie I watched on the big screen including Crazy Rick Asians. 

Subjectively, I thought it was okay. Then again I did something big that a lot of people are hesitant to do. I deleted both my Twitter and Facebook accounts which gave me back some of my life. I felt less dead inside especially after a certain orange idiot came to my city and it made me very upset that people I liked at work were indeed the most stubborn assholes I have ever met. And facebook went before that because I was getting overwhelmed with all this nonsense coming through and such. Which was a part of this...journey that I don’t know where in the world I’m going. 

2017 was the year I decided to finally start this quest (I guess I’ll call it) to find myself after an ex of mine who mentally scarred me came back into my life and broke me right in front of my coworkers after what was already a very stressful week. I couldn’t take it and I started taking medication and I took some therapy sessions to find out what was going on and why I was feeling cramped in this imaginary world that my mind was making for me and come to find out, there were a lot of skeletons in the closet that I needed to burn. And that was for the 2nd time in my life I turned to meditation and Buddhism as my first stepping stone. 

This helped a lot to unravel and deal with daily problems as time went on, but it wasn’t enough. My boss in the six-seven months I have been hunkering down in her office has helped me and I have helped a lot of other people so much as to I am the multi-tool in everyone’s back pocket that they want to keep around. But that’s only at the forefront of my work ethic. I’ve always done my best with small tasks and keeping busy work ahead of me. Work is what kept me going because well, my social life was and continues to be utter garbage. 

As you probably know I could write my way out of a cave, but to talk my way out of a paper sack would be impossible. This reflects me as a person. Right now, I feel as if I’m that middleman in everyone’s lives that is used to find the better thing. I’m never the end goal. I’m always the support, never play of the game. Don’t get me wrong I love playing support because if you don’t have the cushion to the backbone in any situation, you’re pretty much fucked.  But with me, everyone sees that I can make POTGs, I can “be the hero”. So they let me, and I always get put in that middle way of ‘should I or should I not’. It’s stupid. Do I stay in my bubble or do I answer the call of duty? I’ve been put into those situations so many times without warning and then I get anxious and screw up! 

Right now, I decided to make this journey to descend to whateverthefuck is at the top of my mountain of life and I’m at like....maybe a third of the way there?  There’s definitely a clash somewhere between wanting to play support and people around me knowing the potential I have and want to throw me into the sun. And I have those days where people don’t want to do anything so I have to end up doing it, then people complain as to why I’m doing it.  Okay, enough ranting. Back to 2018. Yeah, I’ve made progress but I still don’t feel ready for this ‘higher calling’ I lived a lie for at least 23 years and I’m just now trying to figure out the core mechanics of what being ‘Crystal Short’ entails.  Because there are lives I could live, things I could do, but they don’t feel right at all for who I'm supposed to be.  At the end of this year, Buddhism tells you to be compassionate to all beings. I really can’t get behind that. There I some people who poisoned my soul who I want to watch burn so I guess that’s a plus of finding out that I agree with some things, but not all things, that one idea has to state that it is the true ideal in life. The only person who I want to burn so far is my dad because my mother makes me tolerate his ass whenever we go out and he acts like a toddler when he’s 50something. The therapy did pull up that he and my mom both did a lot of physical abuse when I was a kid and he was a good block for the mental and emotional abuse I have. He forced me to go see my grandma who also mentally scarred me when I was 12 and I had a panic attack in the nursing home and my dad started getting mad about it. Let alone I’m sure the CNAs noticed and did nothing.

fuck that man. And he’s a sexist, racist homophobe so that is kindling for the fire.

‘oh she’s not bad’  ‘yeah she’s not a bad person, but did she give you trauma’ (I’m convinced there are slivers of PTSD somewhere in my brain)

Maybe I have been looking at core mechanics but people around me keep trying to drown my thoughts. I don’t know. Next off, Relationships. My body and society tells me to do one thing and everyone else tells me to fuck off probably because I’m a terrible partner who tries too hard and isn’t interesting!

THAT’S ANOTHER THING! CAN’T SAY IT ENOUGH BECAUSE I’M ANXIOUS, PARANOID, HAVE ADHD AND REJECTION SENSITIVE DYSPHORIA YOU GOTTA FUCKING PROBLEM WITH ME YA GOTTA SAY IT TO MY FACE OR YOUR PERSONAL CONNECTION TO ME IS GONNA GET QUESTIONED EVERY TIME I BREATHE SPECIALLY IF I KNOW SOMETHING SMELLS FISHY.

Last thing in 2018, this blog. We here at Doctor Strange are staler than toast. Despite the massive surge of everyone else, I’ve only had a slight incline in followers this year. Probably because I love Doctor Strange in the MCU, but I’m not IN love with him. One, Benedict Cumberbatch is not attractive and two: I relate to him on a metaphysically level that he’s the longest thing that has been engraved in my interests. When I watched Infinity War, I was upset at the decision he made to hand over the Stone initially but I went back, reevaluated, and discovered that Ben was the perfect person to play this character. (I’ve spoken about this in buried posts, so I don’t want to sound like a record). And maybe it’s my age that’s showing.  I will flow with what comes out and what comes but there are so many other things I want to do such as play video games and watch movies. 

So conclusion of 2018. 1. Let me take my own journey because unlike everyone else I’m slow as shit 2. I’m at the bottom of the mountain because I was fed lies 3. The Super Beard Bros are still cops 4. I get bitter about stupid people. (House Slytherin is my home don’t give me no Hufflepuff schpeel) 5. I gotta be confident and stand up for myself 2019 sorry 20BITEEN is gonna be the year I kick names and take ass. No mercy

If I could put 2018 in one gif for me it would be.

2019 goals

[auk-blogs]

Shitty things that happened when I last went inpatient

At the CSU, I was denied access to my fidget toys (I am autistic AND ADHD) even though I specifically picked out ones that couldn't possibly be harmful - a stuffed animal, a Tangle, a glitter tube, etc.

Every time I tried to inform the nurses at the nurse's station that I was feeling extremely anxious, IF I got their attention at all they would just tell me that "there's colouring pages and puzzles in the dayroom" like. No?? I actually wanted some kind of medication mayhaps a sedative because I was going fucking NUTS

I was denied my ADHD pill, Vyvanse, because and I quote directly, I wasn't "working or studying or anything." No. That's not how it works. I needed that pill in order to think in a coherent manner for more than 2 seconds.

Actually the denial of my Vyvanse might be why I was so goddamn anxious? YOU try not getting anxious when your thoughts are all over the place and just keep getting faster and faster.

The other patients kept playing horribly bloody, violent, and graphic movies. Like WHY do you even HAVE a DVD that has a scene where a pirate has to do abdominal surgery on himself with no anaesthetic?? That's just. That's just pure Trigger(TM) on a shiny DVD.

There was this ONE FUCKING PATIENT. Cheri. I will hate Cheri until the day I die. She managed to always get ahead of me in her wheelchair and she would sit and simper with her watery eyes and her wobbling lip and her wringing hands and this horrible look in her eyes... The nurses always paid more attention to Cheri than me even though I was fucking articulating that HEY I NEED HELP FOR (X) THING and Cheri refused to speak.

Sweater Guy turned my room's light off in the middle of the night. I was insomniac and reading. And also the only patient in my room. Sure it's not a crime or anything but it's really fucking annoying. I wasn't bothering anyone, why not just let me read my book in peace?

For a while the only time I saw the therapist was as she was speedwalking down the hallway to leave for the day every evening. She wouldn't even make eye contact with me.

It wasn't until I finally snapped and told them that I had figured out at least 3 ways to attempt aliven't on that ward that they finally realised that yes, I DID NEED SOME ACTUAL FUCKING HELP.

The CSU led me to believe that the next place I was going to was going to be a long term facility. I took that to mean at least a month if not more. I was ready to finally get some serious help that I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET SINCE THE END OF 2016.

The CSU had a max stay of about 3 days, btw.

Well I got to Peninsula and it turns out that "long term facility" means 5 to 7 day stay. So... Not what I was led to believe.

I was strip searched, I believe is the term. Yes, I was forced to strip pretty much naked to confirm that I wasn't bringing any contraband on my person (despite me checking in voluntarily).

Like I've related before, I was "relieved of" my comfort items - my hardcover journal, some books, and my drawings. The journal and drawings in particular had content I wanted to share with the therapist(s) at Pinensula and I never got to.

When I got anxious about not having my journal/comfort item back, the staff were very apathetic to my literal BEGGING and just basically told me to suck it up and deal with it.

For some reason hardcover books were contraband?? Like what was I gon do, give someone a whack on the head? Anyway they offered me a composition book BUT IT WASN'T MYYYY JOURNAL and as any autistic knows one cannot simply replace a comfort item with a lower quality replacement.

When I, AUK, got too anxious and overwhelmed to deal anymore - Lizzie took over and threw a massive fit. We don't think we got chemically sedated, but we did get hoodwinked into going to a more "secure" ward and then when Lizzie was still pissed off, they manhandled us into a "blank room."

In the new ward, I was relieved of my clothes, my slippers, and pretty much what was left of my dignity. I was made to wear paper scrubs instead of proper clothes.

If I wanted to use the toilet or shower, a nurse would sit at the door with it propped open watching every move I made. No privacy. I eventually only used the bathroom once every morning and only showered once while I was at that ward.

The medication lady (unsure of her status - nurse? Doctor? Idk) refused to keep weaning me off my Lexapro and instead yanked me off it entirely. I'd been on Lexapro for a good while and uh. Ever hear of SSRI withdrawal? It is HORRIBLE. I still think she was totally unprofessional about that and should have fucking known better.

I am overly sensitive to sound and nobody would turn the fucking radio off. (All it played was Christmas music, too. *shudder*)

When I asked for more food, I never got it. I was so freaking hungry by the time I was released.

I'm pretty sure that the coffee was decaf because I got out into the world again and suddenly couldn't handle even half-caf. That means that the nurses were openly lying about the caffeine content - they repeatedly said it was full caffeine coffee.

There were supposed to be groups on that unit but like ...none ever happened? It was like the staff were so busy doing stuff that I couldn't see, that they didn't have time to do their jobs with the patients.

Did I mention that the manhandling left bruises? On my upper arms and also my right buttock from where the men forced me to sit down with all 200 lbs of me onto a concrete floor. Ouchies.

On my discharge notes, somebody wrote a note telling me to stop taking my birth control (which I take to regulate horribly heavy and long periods, not because I am sexually active). The discontinuation of the birth control was never verbalised to me. Never. Not once. There wasn't even an explanation in the note either.

Pinensula put me on what they said was an anti anxiety script but I looked it up and it's actually an antipsychotic. So if you go tell someone that you're anxious, you're psychotic? Like. What? (I understand medications can be used for more than one purpose. But I've been consistently prescribed meds that don't match with my self reported symptoms, and even meds that aren't MEANT to be used for the purpose they were prescribed to me for.)

I got so overstimulated while on the unit that I begged for earplugs. They didn't help at all, even when I combined them with a pillow over my head too. And then they went and turned the radio LOUDER.

(Although not relevant to me, there was this one patient who went ballistic over a hair being on her unpeeled orange ... She had been fiddling with her hair right before eating and she was the only one with that hair texture and colour on the unit... Yeah she threw a fit because she got one of her hairs on her unpeeled orange. Sigh.)

Did I mention that both the CSU and Peninsula are mostly for detoxing people? They just throw detoxing addicts and people who are having purely mental health problems in together. It is a bad system, because people like me who just need mental health support are often triggered by the detoxing addicts, and we get ignored by staff because the detoxing addicts are a higher priority I guess? They're certainly more dramatic.

My mum later told me that she was told that I was likely to be released early because I was "cooperative." Of fucking course I'm cooperative you absolute nitwits, I checked in voluntarily because I've been suicidal for like 16 years and I want some fuckin HELP

My mum tried to bring me a small stuffed dragon as a birthday present (yes, I was inpatient on my birthday). The stuffed toy was not allowed through because it was contraband. FUCKING HOW IS A LITTLE PLUSH DRAGON CONTRABAND? Mum articulated her distress as somethinf like "I just wanted to bring my autistic spawn something stimmy on their birthday" like fucking hell man, don't ever go inpatient if you are neurodivergent because they sure as hell won't allow you to have any coping mechanisms that aren't staying quiet, staring at nothing, and using dried up markers on a badly designed colouring page.

Anyway sorry this got so long. There's probably even more stuff that I forgot about.

Storal of the mory is don't go inpatient in Southeastern Tennessee, kids. You might be fucked up now but they will definitely fuck you up worse.

[ddonggeun]

Hey! So I’m suspecting if I got adhd/add but is there any symptom idk. It’s really exp here to get it diagnosed

sorry it took me a while to get back to you because honestly i dont know whats a good alternative for you can be so i guess i can share my own experience? 

first of all i think googling symptoms and types of adhd and reading peoples account on how adhd/add manifest is a good start? my doctor and the reddit /r/adhd REALLY help me to accept myself (which is the first step i think) but the way i get diagnosis (i am adhd with predominately inattentiveness - but at the same time i have depressions and dyslexia which is like a killer combo 10/10 would never rec) is that i came across with an article a couple months about how girls with adhd are more likely to be (mis)diagnosed with depression and it basically fucks up multiple generations because they cant get the help they need and i was like wait whats describe in it sounds kind of like me but at the same time i have always been very lethargic and rather well behaved in class growing up i am nothing like what you would typically associate with adhd (you know the hyper-activeness) so during my next visit to the doctor (im getting treatment for my depression) i mention to the article to her and she said wait you know what describe how you feel in a classroom setting growing up and is there anything you do that teachers complain about repeatedly and tell me how studying and doing homework is like to you and so i did (i can go further into details of my life since a lot contributes to why i only get diagnosis when im 21… let me know if you would like to know i guess?)

my doctor (who just so happens to be an adhd specialist and is quite active in the research area i didnt know before then we stan forever i love her really she is so encouraging and so good at her job) took some notes as i was talking and after im done she said you know what i think you might be onto something but i cant be sure yet (since i have depression and dyslexia which both overlaps quite a lot with adhd/add) why dont i first explain to you what adhd is and i’ll give you the set of official diagnosis questions you dont have to do it just take a look at it first do some research organize your thought talk to your parents about it and if you think getting a test on it is something you want we can set up another appointment and we can go from there - which is really really nice because adhd has always been a taboo at least with my upbringing it makes you a loser socially academically and you know just in general its not something you will want to have…. 

in hind sight there are SO MANY SIGNS even in early childhood how come no one notice i dont know prolly because i grew up in the 00s if you are different you need to kys lmao rip: 

trouble paying attention in school or work,

the appearance of not listening - although im an audio learner funny enough

avoidance of activities that require sustained focus,

being easily distracted 

restlessness

fidgeting and cant sit properly - i shake my legs or click my pen so much especially when im thinking or anxious lmao, i got into trouble a lot when i was younger because i only sit in my seat facnig the teacher 5 mins max at at ime then i move around or i move the chair around i think better when i cross my legs but i went to a uniform school and i always make my skirt too short so you know

interrupting - if i dont say what comes to mind when it comes to mind, the thought is gone forever

frequent talking and talking way too fast - i get the exact same comment every single report day class from when i was 4 till i graduated high school im not even kidding “she has excellent comprehension skill and reading speed. it would be great if parents can help her out a bit in maths or chemistry.  she has a lot of potential if she applies herself, she seems distracted although when we ask her questions she can answer. very helpful and bubbly and yet she talks too much in class. she is not disruptive and her seatmate never complains but she just doesnt stop talking. we have been pairing her up with quiet students in class in the hopes that she will talk less in class but she just turn the quiet student talkative”

trying to do multiple things at once - i cant do one thing at a time, even when im say writing a paper i need to be listening to music or talking to someone if not switching between tabs or word files

mood swings

hyperfocus - oh boy oh boy oh boy

impulsiveness - i dont know if i get better as i age or is it getting worse i just know how to clean up my mess lmaooooo

poor time management - although i would say ever since i start listening to stuff 24/7 it really helps build a sense of the passage of time or whatever? its like now i know ok by the time i get to the third song in the shower i need to be washing out my conditioner; or say i need to go somewhere in 40 mins which is really abstract to me i set timers and put on a show thats 35ish mins even tho im not watching it just so im aware of time is actually happening if it makes sense

fail to follow through - i start things and once i have it figure out in my head i struggle to put it down in words or explain it to others i work well with other adhd peps tho

doesnt follow instruction and only do stuff their way

burnout - this is the worst especially if you are a perfectionist or a control freak and guess who is both 

trouble coping with stress - 

i luck out because im canadian and my doctor (in my schools clinic) just so happens to be a specialist who is very passionate about helping undergrads and grad school students to achieve as much as they can - so doctor and diagnosis for me is free. i do have to pay for my medications out of my pocket for a bit since im on vyvanse (to treat both my adhd and depression-lead anxiety its complicated but it makes sense when my doctor explained it to me lol) and this drug isnt covered by Pharmacare (CAD $130ish for 3 weeks worth of 30mg, im mostly on 30mg but on days when i dont have work on stuff or go to school i take 20mg just so my anxiety dont cause me to explode lmao) and very expensive but recently my doctor and i have agreed that vyvanse really work for me and it is something that i should be on daily for the foreseeable future we applied for special authorization which means i only gotta pay the tax… of course medicating isnt a must but it is what works for me and we figure out a way to make it affordable so i cant be more happy about that

at the same time i work with my psychiatrist to you know configure the whole adhd thing cause you know 21 years of repressing and forcing your feet into a shoes that not even your size frick you up thats something people dont tell you 🤷🏻‍♀️

what my doctor said to me then stuck with me - she told me adhd or add really is no monster or flaw in fact it is a very valuable set of traits we inherit from our ancestor - we hate it now because modern society render these skills useless well you see adhd isnt all about the hyperactiveness you see in the media people with adhd are extra sensitive to their surrounding and prefer hands on experiences (today we call them distracted) they are always aware of the change around them and is capable to attend to a couple things at a time and act fast because their brains are always making sense of things even when they arent consciously doing it. in todays society we dont want these kind of people why? because they ask questions they are curious people who notice trivial stuff that dont contribute to productivity they cant sit still which makes them not the ideal factor workers or pupils BUT! you have to remember that industrialization started like a century ish ago before that our ancestors live in predominately tribal society - adhd people then are the perfect caretakers and protectors, why? because they are always noticing things they adapt and react fast… so yeah it kinda suck for us growing up in a system thats designed to be everything we are and it is something that need to be changed but for those of us who “made it out alive” especially people who only get diagnosed in adulthood more often than not they look back and realize they have developed so many incredible ways to cope to make things work - are they always the perfect way? are they always health? no definitely no but at the same time it shows you how incredible these people are they make things work yes things are really hard sometimes but you got to give yourself a pet in the shoulder for not giving up… with the help of science and research we now know a little more about how adhd affect people we now have medication and programs developed to help people with adhd - they arent to dumb you down or numb you but instead it helps you to focus better so you can actually hear your entire thought and not just phrases or sentence fragments

[epic-sorcerer]

Fuck

(Tw antiblackness)

Okay so when I was 11 my mom read this book to me about the 5 Chinese personality elements. Ever sense then I was fascinated by it and wanted to create OCs of my own to respresent them.

Bc my adhd can cause weird motivation and memory, I cared only with developing characters and story lines and slowly forgot the actual sorce material.

When I first started, I decided to focus more on story and not on character disign. Because mostly I took inspiration from vocaloid songs(you can tell this was a while ago) I decided to make them all Japanese so I could narrow their look way down compared to shapeless blobs in my mind.

Years past and I decided I didn’t like this anymore. I was ready to do the complete opposite and have a very diverse cast of characters. My strategy was to chose a culture in any where in the world, at any time, that most prioritized and valued what each element had to give and generally imbodied. Especially bc I wanted each character to be the most extreme form of their elements and often invisioned each character to be a political representative for each colony of element.

I good way to put this in perspective is to imagine I was making a communism OC so I made them Chinese or USA American. Basically that would chosenthose cultures bc it is something it generally is really extreme about and is known for.

My first real character disign was fire. I made her a Scottish pict, as I could give her red hair and have her be her full passionate and chaotic self.

All the other ones are up in the air. But I realized that it would be really cool to make tree be an African person with a 4c type Afro and a long and skinny body type. That’s the most tree like I could have made someone! I was so happy and got really attached to my black tree character. I new that Africa was huge and old, and that’s not even counting the West Indies. Of course I could find a culture that was tree-like. All I needed to do was look.

All of this screeched to a hault today. I decided to look up the tree personality after years and years and was met with something heart breaking.

Aggressive, angry, reckless, arrogant, etc. this reminds me of the angry black stariotype mixed with the newer unreasonable blm protester one.

I’m unsure if I’m being too paranoid or if I’m being reasonable when I say that I’m not sure if I can make tree black. Even though the negitive descriptions are for when tree is unbalanced, it still doesn’t make it okay imo.

From a writers perspective, it makes snese to start characters at when they are unbalanced, because then it’s an easy wrote to character development. Even if I don’t do this, I have no choise but to make this character aggressive sometimes if I truly want to stay true to Tree.

For perpective here’s the other elements’ triats from Wikipedia

Fire also is aggressive. And also waters positive and negative traits are opposites. Earth is a mix of all elements so im imagining earth may also be aggressive when unbalanced. Do you think I can make this work or should I change tree’s race?

Fire is a white Celtic. And I’m unsure what culture I want earth to belong to. I’m thinking of making water be a Samoan(not sure what time period), metal is still Japanese for now but I am unsure if that still fits my change in casting intentions so that’s probably going to change. Basically what I’m saying is that I’m only really going to have one white character, bc I want the cultures to be spread out throughout the map.

I know black people are often forced to constantly be on their toes in turns of wether or not something is anti black and if they are unsafe in that environment. I’m not black, but I belong to multiple minority groups and I understand that feeling to a terrifying degree. The last thing I would want is to make a choise that resembles anti black caricatures and put black poeple in the position of wondering if I dislike them or if they are unsafe around me.

I understand that feeling, and I don’t want to put poeple throguh taht. I still want to have a super inclusive cast, but I’m also aware that I have to be very careful as a white writer. Even though my intentions were good, I accidentally associated a black character with aggressiveness and that’s extremely hurtful. I’m also aware that if I represent a black character well, it can be uplifting to a black audience that I took so much care to learn about an African culture and put it in a positive light.

I remember when I was a baby gay and I came across this channel run by a cishet who dedicated a large protion of his videos to calling out lgbt phobia and premoting the idea that we deserve to have rights and to feel safe and happy as who we are. I was in awe a cishet would do taht for us and felt personally touched. I want to be able to do something that other people feel that same way about, because it’s truly a beutiful thing.

So...where do I go from here? Do I change trees race to a different one? Please be honest. I know I say I have rejection sensitivity dysphoria, but that dosnt mean you can’t criticize me. It only means taht you have to be careful and not angry. I truly want to make this story the best it can be, and I want to know if I’m doing the right thing if I change tree’s race to something else. 

I want all people to feel safe while experiencing my work(idk if it will be a book or what, it’s very early in development).

I have no intention on making tree a villain, instead a good character who is the sweetest person you can meet. I feel like I would make fire much more angry and aggressive bc of the Scottish pict emphasis on war and and never backing down, to make my intentions clear.

But even then, that doesn’t change that tree is so connected to anger. And I’m not sure how I can work with that so if doesn’t seam like an anti black stariotype

Anger, anger, anger. I don’t knwo what to do. Please help, preferably black users because yall definitely know heaps more about this than me as a white person.

Please knwo that I mean well, and I’m never intended to make my tree character black if I remembered how heavily it’s associated with anger. All I remembered was the optimism and happiness, as I am sensitive to negativity and my brain probably forgot about the dark side of tree on purpose when I was 11 and didn’t even think of making tree black. I’m so disappointed in myself and I promise you I can do better. I just need some guidance. I’m sorry to anyone I may have let down. I hope I can grow form this and make this story the best it can be.

[sneeze-queen]

The repercussions of lance running out of his meds in space? Both the physical (withdrawals) and mental effects (Can be for whatever you headcanon him with or want to write but the two that come to mind is depression or adhd)

Prompt:The repercussions of lance running out of his meds in space? Both the physical (withdrawals) and mental effects (Can be for whatever you headcanon him with or want to write but the two that come to mind is depression or adhd)

A/N: Alright, real excited for this one. One thing I’d like to establish beforehand. This is before the season two Langst and really, more like the build up to the insecurities we see Lance display. He feels pretty unimportant, and useless after this  but is still able to keep it under control. As time goes on though, (and he’s still not getting medical care) things are definitely going to snowball into what we’ve seen. Threw in some training whump too. Also since Hunk is the unproblematic fav, he’s really gonna help Lance out.Finally, I bet the pacing of this is going to be all frigged up, so I’m sorry in advance :(

Lance was lucky that he’d even held out for so long.

It a week after him and the other paladins had left earth before he’d completely run out of pills, and it was two days after that when his downward spiral began.

At first, there’d only been a loneliness. Small reminders that he couldn't go home. Lance felt saddened by this, but pushed through. Thencame the irritability, not only with small inconveniences like stubbing his toe but also the regular actions of his teammates. Suddenly, Keith and his temper was just too much. Pidge’s genius brain became an annoying reminder of all that Lance wasn’t and Hunk’s careful but close nature became smothering.

Lance would do anything to just get some alone time.

The next day however, was no relief. In the early hours of the morning, Coran’s voice echoed through the hallways loudly, waking everyone, even the mice. The Altean effectively reminded the humans of the ship that training would take place on the deck and not in the official training room. Which everyone had already known!

Quiznack, Lance did not want to get up. There was a persistent pulsing between Lance’s blue eyes, one that he’d fallen asleep with, but now it seemed to be more of a pressure that extended to the sides of Lance’s head from his temple and ears to his jaw.

Would anyone even care if he skipped?

No, they’d be more irritated than anything else then they’d come looking for him, and realize!what was going on. That was a conversation Lance was insistent on not having.

Reluctantly, Lance pushed himself from his wall bed thing. He was quick to don his under armor and skipped his daily skincare routine. He’d be probably be late if he put it on, so instead he moved straight to the deck of the ship.

When Lance had gotten there, he was greeted by the rest of his friends and frighteningly bright surroundings. Keith was also there. He was the first to talk to Lance, setting up their daily banter.

“What? Did you drag your feet or something? Come on, we’ve got to train.” Lance just scowled. He was in no mood to interact with people.

His lack of response definitely set the tone for the room making Allura begin her instruction.

“Alright Paladins,” she said. “I’ve realized that each of you are fairly unaccustomed to planets that have gravities different than earth’s. Today, to give you some experience with alternative conditions, you’ll each be running an obstacle course while Coran periodically readjusts the gravity of the ship.” Allura seemed to wait a moment for a comment but when there was none she continued.

“Shiro, you will go first.”

Shiro nodded dutifully, and moved to the starting line, pushing off and beginning the course when the stopwatch started. He was quick and there’d probably be 4 minutes or so before the next paladin had to begin.

Lance’s brow creased, he wasn't sure if he’d be able to get through this course without spilling his goo all over the floor. Or in the air. They were playing with gravity after all.

“Is it the withdrawal?”

Lance jumped. Hunk had come out of nowhere! The teen swiveled to face his friend and almost sized him up before simply saying,

“We aren't going to talk about that here.”

Hunk frowned. Lance wasn’t usually that hostile with him, or anyone for that matter.

“But it is that, right?”

Lance rolled his pulsating eyes and nodded.

“Do you think you’ll be okay?”

Lance nodded again. He was starting to feel like a friggin’ bobble head.

“Okay man, just let me know if you need to tap out of practice. I’m sure the rest of them will understand.” Hunk said.

Then, without warning came the loud whirring noise the fired up the gravity controls. The effects were not so intense that the paladins were floating, but now, when Shiro would jump from one platform to the other, he lingered in air for a few moments longer.

Lance frowned, this didn’t feel great on his somewhat sensitive stomach but he could push through when his time came.

But, not a moment after Shiro landed from a large jump did the gravity shift again, this time so heavy that everyone, Altean’s included, found themselves fighting the sudden pull toward the floor.

The sudden switch from low to high gravity was no good for Lance and the receding pain ghosting in his shoulders and neck had instantaneously quadrupled. The boy grunted in alarm then pulled away when Hunk tried patting him on the back.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed.

“Sorry! Sorry man, don’t worry. I won't again.”

In his head, Hunk checked off irritability on Lance’s list of symptoms along with hypersensitivity. That wasn't all though, Hunk could tell.

“Is there anything else?” Hunk asked softly.

Lance shook his head and made Hunk frown. Lance was lying but Hunk couldn't force him to tell him anything, or even get him to tell the others about his medications. It was Lance’s business and Hunk was privileged to even know about it in the first place. He wouldn’t push his luck, especially now while Lance was going through withdrawal.

“Lance, it’s your turn.” time must have passed quicker than the blue paladin thought. He stood, and took a shaky step forward with his wobbly knees.

The timer began before he’d even gotten to the line and from the corner of his eye, Lance saw Allura tapping her foot impatiently. What the hell was her problem?

“What are you doing Lance?” she called.

Lance huffed and ignored her, moving into a jog to a pair of walls. God he wasn’t some parkour expert, how was he supposed to use the walls to get across the gap?

With jerky and rushed movements Lance pushed from wall to wall as quickly as he could, cursing the universe all the while. It wasn’t a long obstacle in the slightest but it dragged out for Lance. When the paladin pushed off the final wall and landed in an unbalanced roll.

Lance rushed up and started to take off again, out of breath.

Now there were high monkey bars to swing to- Lance took a running jump and his hands clasped around the first metal bar then using his momentum to breeze through the first three bars. On the fourth however, the whirring noise rung through the room and Lance felt his hand begin to slip from the bar he was holding onto- his body was being pulled to the floor by the increased gravity, his neck and shoulders pulling against the strain.

Lance fell. His body slammed to the ground with an undignified yelp and suddenly, he couldn't breath. Lance shuddered and wheezed and gasped for air on the hard tiled(?) floor.

Footsteps wildly raced towards him and Hunk was in his line of vision.

“Lance! Are you okay?” He roughly swiveled to the other paladins.

“I'm taking him to the infirmary!”  Hunk practically shouted.

“Uh.” Keith began flatly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

Hunk shook his head vehemently. “Lance could have a concussion!”

Lance sat up, “No I do not, Hunk. I can finish the course.”

“Look at him!” Hunk cried. “He’s clearly delirious!”

Shiro gave way while Allura gave a questioning look.

“Are humans really that fragile?” She said while Hunk dragged Lance behind him from the room.

“Not usually.” •When Lance got to the medical bay with Hunk, he was about ready to blow. He had a massive headache, his muscles hurt and cramped no matter what he did and then Hunk was making everything worse by making Lance seem so incompetent. Like he couldn't even finish a training session.

‘But You couldn't.’ A voice in the back of Lance’s mind admitted.

“Come on, Allura showed me where a few things are. You can take something for the headache and go to sleep.”

‘You’re in bad shape, Lance.’

Silently, Lance did follow Hunk. He wasn't all to happy but, maybe the meds could help a little.

A/N: You know what, I’ve been working on this the past few days and I just don’t think that I can write the whole thing in one shot, so there’s this and if you guys want I can write one or two more bits as a continuation of this. Personally I think that that would work better but if you don’t like this then we can just leave it here

[spicedchaicoquette]

TPB

As I lay under TPB, I am trying so hard to get in the mood. He is already inside of me. I keep going through different scenarios in my head, trying to find the one that will excite me while he is fucking me. It’s not that I am not attracted to him, but after being together 9 years sometimes you need some excitement. I reach up to feel his muscular arms, it’s my favorite part of his body. I start to rub my clit with my other hand. He can sense I am having trouble. “What are you thinking about?”

“I don’t know?”

I hide most of my sexual desires from him. Sex is not the safest topic with him. We have come so far in our sex life, but unfortunately there is too much baggage and I choose not to let him see that side of me. “Look at me.” He says. “I want you to think about another man touching you.” I try to envision it. I close my eyes.

“He is fucking you while I watch.”

I feel anxious, but I also feel excited.

“His dick inside your pussy, then I come up to you and put my cock in your mouth.”

I start to move my hips with his. I am imagining a stranger inside of me. I rub my clit faster. I stop so I can flip over and he can fuck me from behind. I reach back down and run my fingers up my slit making my clit moist. I start rubbing circular motions over it again.

“Keep talking to me.”

“I want to watch you get fucked for awhile, then I want to fuck you in the ass. While his cock is in your cunt.”

He slides a finger in my ass while he is fucking me. I am still imagining having another cock inside of me. I feel the pressure rising. I rub my clit faster as he pumps in and out in a rhythmic movement. His cock is rock hard.

“Yeah, you like being fucked by someone else?”

I start to cum.

“Cum with me.... please... cum with me.”

He uses his finger tips to lightly trace along my back bone. The waves of pleasure extend longer. He knows I have a sensitive spot on my back that intensifies my orgasm. I feel my pussy tighten around his dick. I am lost in a fantasy of another man. He starts to fuck me harder and I feel his cock start to throb as his warm cum fills me.

TPB and I were together for 10 years, married for 5. When we first got together we had crazy sex. In parks, cars, on pool tables. I didn’t even want to date him when I met him, I just wanted to fuck. It took 6 months for him to convince me to go on an actual date. That one date was all it took, and I stuck around. Unfortunately We had a toilsome marriage. I have never had someone love me the way he did. His family name has a reputation, they love hard, so hard it’s suffocating. Their love is forceful, and intoxicating, but for as much as they love they cause just as much pain and destruction. It’s much like Newton’s third law, for ever action there is an equal and opposite reaction. After many years of emotional abuse, and cheating, and finding out he was bi, we tried so hard to make our marriage work. Therapy. medication (he was diagnosed with impulse control disorder, depression, ADHD, anxiety, and as possibly borderline), more therapy. weed. Fuck I forgave him over and over for things I should have just left him for instead. I felt like I was running out of options. I felt like the only way to try to save my marriage was to have an open relationship. But secretly deep down, I desired it too.

I had outgrown (or at least I thought) my promiscuous college years. I was a mom now, I felt insecure with my body, convinced no one desired me. Even through all our troubles I had stayed faithful to TPB I didn’t even toy with the idea of being with other men. He had never been satisfied with me, and I thought maybe if I gave him the option to freely sleep with other people, I could somehow still get the love I desired from him with out the pressure of feeling like I wasn’t good enough. It took much convincing on his part for me to finally agree. At first I didn’t think I would want to sleep with other people, I would just let him do whatever he wanted, but he wanted me to have “fun” too. We decided we would look for another couple who wanted the same type of things. He and I sat down and came up with a list of rules for each other. 1) always tell the other person what is going on, if the other person is uncomfortable we stop. 2)never meet with someone else unless the other person is aware 3) we will stop all contact with other people if the other person wishes it to be over.... it felt like some weird contract, but this contract helped keep me sane. These rules turned it from chaos into something I could process. He set up a few online accounts posting pictures of us and little bios about how we were a couple looking for another couple. I was so nervous. We started getting replies almost immediately. I was astonished. There was this growing sensation in me that made me feel like I was in college again. I was excited. Everyday I wanted to know who was messaging us, who wanted us, were there people who thought I was attractive? TPB sifted through lots of convos and people until we met K and Z. TPB and K started talking and immediately hit it off. K and her husband Z were new to the swinging life much like us and were also looking to maybe find a couple to meet up with. One day I came home from work and TPB gives me a phone # “this is Z’s #, K and I thought you two should maybe get to know each other and then if we all agree we can meet up. You should text him. “ My head is spinning. What do I say? What if he doesn’t like me? I don’t know how to talk to other men. Fuck it’s been years since I have been with someone else. I send the first text ...

“Hey it’s TPB’s wife, how are you?” Fuck I sound lame.

He texts me back. “Hey good, you?”

Holy fuck ok I can do this ... umm what do I say? I don’t t even know him .... ok um “good so I guess we are supposed to get to know each other haha” ....

“yeah I guess so...”

ok this isn’t going well. I start to get nervous, I already want to back out. I turn to TPB, “I don’t think I can do this. I have no clue what I am doing, wtf do I say to him?”

“Just be yourself, you get so worried about what people think about you. You are such a fun person, and you’re attractive I know he will like you, just talk to him like you would talk to me. Or send him a dirty photo... just don’t over think it.”

.... a dirty photo ? I haven’t sent a dirty photo in ages ... I am starting to panic. I feel sick. I text back “so tell me about yourself” Z gives me a plain description about himself. He is in the military, no kids, likes guns and cars ....and sends me a photo. He is cute. Tall, a little skinny, he is younger than me. He is 22 I am 28. I am so nervous to send a photo back, I am a bigger bodied woman. I know not everyone likes bigger women. But I quickly put on some make up, push my boobs up in my bra and snap a quick photo back to him. I am waiting for a reply .... I don’t hear from him ...... I keep waiting and nothing..... alright he isn’t into me I knew this would happen. At least I tried. So much for that.

I wake up the next morning and see I have a text from Z “😍 😍 sorry I fell asleep, you are Gorgeous.”

I feel invigorated. I am tingling. What am I doing? A common theme in my life. We keep texting all day, talking about random things. I think he is nervous too, he hasn’t even broached the topic of sex at all. I finally get brazen... “what turns you on?” He texts me back and starts telling me his likes and dislikes, nothing out of the ordinary. He asks me the same question. I return with vanilla answers about muscular arms and doggie style sex. I decide it’s time to attempt a nude photo. After many position changes, room changes, angles, hair up, hair down and about 100 photos later I settle on one. All of this is is causing a sensation to build in my thighs. Am I really sending a nude photo to some guy I don’t know? I can’t wait for his reply. It’s been years since I have felt this way. He texts back “you are so sexy, I can’t wait to fuck you.” I run to TPB and tell him everything. I feel like I am doing something wrong, but it feels so right. I feel guilty. I tell him that I sent a nude photo, and that Z thinks I am sexy. “ you are getting excited aren’t you?” Yes, yes I am, but I mask some of my excitement because I don’t want to upset TPB. We used to have many run ins with jealousy. Especially over men. Or maybe just one man in particular. It’s been years since he has been in the picture. But it still makes me nervous to show my feelings. So I decide to not tell him everything. TPB kisses me. I don’t waste any time and push my hand down his pants and start stroking him. We head to the bedroom. He is close behind me and I don’t even get all my clothes off before he is inside of me. I push my ass into him. I match his rhythm and start tilting my hips so I can get him deeper. I grab my vibrator and push it against my clit. I haven’t wanted to fuck this badly in so long. I Push against him harder. His hard cock is tantalizing. Yes, fuck I am already going to cum. I rock against him. Harder. Harder. Harder. My lips start to contract around him. He cums with me. I catch my breath and tell him I think we should all meet. I am ready. He texts K and they start to plan out how and what will happen...