#so it made things easier for my easily distracted and mentally exhausted brain

[doodlesdreaming]

While going through a rather large chunk of artblock, I attempted a OCtober challenge on Twitter, hoping maybe it'll help.

....how I was able to get through it all is beyond me. X'D

[missmentelle]

could you explain some of the differences between how adhd affects executive function and how depression or other illnesses do? i think i definitely struggle with executive dysfunction but i don’t have a diagnosis yet (hopefully once i can go back to my college campus in fall) and i’ve been told it can look kinda similar in this aspect

Untangling the relationship between ADHD, executive dysfunction and depression can be sort of like trying to figure out where a perfect circle starts and stops - these things often go together, and separating them is more challenging than you might think.

But let's stop for a minute and look at what ADHD and depression look like on their own.

ADHD is a neurological disorder that affects the brain's ability to regulate attention and impulses. It's a common misconception that ADHD is "a lack of attention span" or "a short attention span" - people with ADHD cannot regulate their attention spans properly. It is hard for them to stay focused on tasks they aren't interested in, but it's equally hard for them to tear themselves away from tasks they are very interested in. I have ADHD, and it's not unusual for me to work on something I'm very interested in for 10-12+ hours straight, without stopping to eat, shower or do other things that I'm supposed to do.

The most common symptoms of ADHD are:

hyperactivity - the person may be fidgety, restless, and struggle to sit still

poor impulse control - they may spend money they shouldn't on impulse purchases, drive too quickly, or otherwise make reckless decisions they wouldn't make if they were made to stop and think about it

prone to distractions or losing focus 

hyperfocus - this means focusing on an interesting task for hours, to the point that other important tasks or even basic self-care are neglected

poor concentration

inattentiveness - they may be prone to spacing out and daydreaming

difficulties with planning, time management and with being on time - deadlines tend to be difficult for them

a tendency to lose things - difficulties keeping track of belongings and important documents

difficulties with organization - living spaces, offices and desks are often a disaster

low frustration tolerance - they are easily frustrated and have a hard time coping with frustration in healthy ways

difficulty following directions - they may rush through instructions and make careless mistakes

difficulty waiting their turn - in adults, this often manifests as interrupting or talking over other people constantly

People who are diagnosed with ADHD will not have every symptom, and symptoms may change as you age. Men and boys, for instance, are more prone to having hyperactive and impulsive symptoms, which is one of the reasons why ADHD is more commonly diagnosed in males - those symptoms are quite visible. Women and girls, on the other hand, are more likely to have inattentive symptoms without hyperactivity, which often leads to them being labelled as "ditsy" or "spacey" without their ADHD being recognized.

Depression, on the other hand, is a mood disorder that can affect many different processes in the brain, including executive functioning. Some of the executive function issues that you can experience with depression include:

“brain fog” - an experience where your thinking feels slow, fuzzy or disorganized

difficulties concentrating 

forgetfulness, issues with short-term memory 

memory loss, issues recalling long-term memories

easily distracted

delayed mental processing, slow reaction times

difficulties with problem-solving and decision-making - often manifests as the person being indecisive and unable to make up their mind

The reason that it can be tough to detangle ADHD from depression, however, is that ADHD can often be a major contributor to depression - or at least, the social impact of living with ADHD can contribute to depression.  The world is simply not build for people with ADHD brains, and trying to exist in a world that’s not built for your brain is exhausting, especially when everyone around you seems to manage it so easily. When you struggle to be on time, meet deadlines and stay organized, you’re going to meet with a lot of failure in your life. The struggles often start in school - kids with ADHD have a hard time sitting still, paying attention and getting homework done, which leads to poorer grades and more school failure. College acceptance rates are lower for kids with ADHD (22% of kids with ADHD are accepted to college vs 77% of non-ADHD kids) and the college graduation rate is much lower (5% of adults with ADHD have graduated college, vs 35% of non-ADHD adults). And those struggles follow people into the workforce - 55% of adults with ADHD have been fired from a job, vs 23% of the general population. 

Living with ADHD can also cause problems with relationships. When you struggle with impulse control, are unreliable about answering messages and tend to show up late to dates, it can be more difficult for you to start and maintain friendships and romantic relationships. When you struggle with basic life skills or financial management (as many people with ADHD do) that can also be a major cause of frustration for long-term partners. The divorce rates for couples with an ADHD spouse may be as much as double the average divorce rate, and people with ADHD go through more sexual partners in their lifetime (the average for people with ADHD is 18.6 partners, vs 6.5 for the general population). 

It can be extremely discouraging to constantly feel like you aren’t living up to your potential and that you’re letting other people down. It can be very difficult to watch the people around you seem to effortlessly manage things that you struggle to do, no matter how hard you try. It can feel like you’re trying to climb out of a slippery well while someone has their boot on your forehead - no matter how hard you struggle, you just can’t seem to get ahead. All of these things can contribute to high rates of depression and anxiety among people with ADHD. It’s a vicious cycle - their executive function causes life circumstances that lead to depression, which leads to worse executive functioning, which leads to worse life circumstances, etc. 

The good news for those of us with ADHD is that proper treatment can significantly interrupt this vicious cycle. Many people with ADHD can improve their quality of life by receiving treatment for ADHD. Getting treatment for depression can also improve your quality of life and make it easier to manage ADHD. Making lifestyle adaptations (like finding a career with flexible hours, finding an understanding partner, having a cleaning service come in once in a while) can also make it easier to manage ADHD, and to succeed while living with it. ADHD and depression often go hand-in-hand, but it’s possible to overcome them and find ways to manage them.  Best of luck to you! MM

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Of Prices Paid

This is kind of long, so maybe check it out on ao3? 

There is a lot to get used to in this immortality business, Nile thinks, as Joe guns the engine and peals away from the lab. No matter how much her brain screams at her to move on, Nile cannot tear her eyes away from the twisted hunk of metal that had been Merrick’s car. Not until Joe turns a corner and it disappears from view. Inside their vehicle, the Guard settles into silence, and at first Nile is grateful for it. No one is trying to gauge how she feels when she is still in shock. No one is trying to debrief her when she can still hear the wind whistling in her ears, when she can still remember the way her skull crawled underneath her skin to piece itself back together.

Nile feels too good for someone that had just rearranged her skeleton, and it seems wrong, in a way, to be sitting here feeling no pain, no exhaustion, no fear. The quiet in the car has a complexity to it Nile can’t quite untangle. It’s woven like a tapestry made of guilt, which roils off Booker like thunder, spun with anger that Nile can feel in the way Nicky sits, his shoulders tense, his hands balled in fists. But it’s like a mirage in the desert, holding its form until it’s looked at up close. When Nile first met the Guard they had felt like a lie, like a fantasy or a dream. She hadn’t understood, hadn’t felt the years they had lived until now. Until she was sitting in this silence; this tired, expansive, comfortable silence. Nile is not used to this kind of prolonged stagnation, the lack of desire to fill empty time with entertainment. But these people beside her are ancient and do not notice they pass full hours just sitting in this car, aware of one another and completely content in that.

Nile distracts herself from the thoughts of blood, the sound of the gunshots, and the ghost of pain that crash around in her head by watching the others. She watches Nicky’s attention flicker between the light in Joe’s curls and the movement of his shoulder, takes note of the small smile that turns Nicky’s lip when he looks in the rearview mirror and finds Joe’s eyes meeting his. Nile watches Booker playing with his rings, his fingers fumbling and trembling. Notices he keeps his sunglasses on even as the sunlight starts to dip below the horizon. Nile inspects the way Andy’s jaw is set, watches her close her eyes, and hears how deliberately she breathes. Nile sees Andy flinch when Joe takes her hand, sees her shoulder slump a little when he turns his head for just a moment, and gives a gentle squeeze. Sees the smile spread briefly across Andy’s face as she nods softly and responds in kind. Nile watches Joe press a soft kiss to Andy’s knuckles, pat the top of her hand, and return his grip to the gear shift.

Nile stretches, uncomfortable and itchy with the blood still caked against her skin. They’d been driving for hours by this point in unfamiliar terrain. She feels a hand press quickly, tentatively against her elbow, and meets Nicky’s gaze. It’s piercing, studious, full of questions, and Nile blinks away the stinging in her eyes. It has been a long time since Nile cried, especially in front of others, and she was not about to start today, in a car full of people she barely knew. Nicolo softens, opens his arms a little in an offer Nile takes. She leans against his side, lets him hold her weight; Nicky wraps an arm around her and kisses the top of her head like her father used to. “We’re almost there,” he says, and Nile is equal parts surprised and not to find the man she read as the most quiet and contemplative of the group is the one to finally break the silence.

“Good,” Nile replies “Cause I’ve had to pee for about an hour now and I was starting to get worried,” The car is filled with laughter like fireworks, explosive but brief. Nile notices how Joe laughs with his whole body, how Andy chuckles under her breath, a timid thing. She sees that Nicky smiles and Booker doesn’t.  

“It’s not another mine is it?” Nile asks as she sits back up, Nicolo returning his arm to his side. “Because I don’t know about ya’ll but I need a stiff drink, a soft bed, and a shower,”

“I can solve the drink problem,” Booker pulls his flask out of his jacket pocket, wiggles it in Nile’s direction. Nile takes a swig, tries to stifle a cough as the whiskey hits her tongue.

“No,” Andy says, biting back a smile “It’s not a mine,”

Ten minutes later, Joe turns down a dirt road. The cottage that sits at the end of the driveway looks straight out of a storybook. It’s roof thatched and slanting, the garden overgrown, Nile half expects a witch to pop out of the front door and welcome them in. Booker is the first out of the car, rushing towards the building before Joe has even finished parking.

“Guess he had to pee too,” Joe remarks bitterly as he jods to the side of the car to open the door for Nile and Nicky, offering his hand to help them stand.

“Such a gentleman,” Nicky says as he untangles himself from the middle seat, takes Joe’s hand,  and pulls him in for a quick kiss. Their fingers are the last thing to part, Nile notices, as Joe heads towards the passenger seat to open Andy’s door. Nicky moves towards the trunk to grab their go-bags and carry them into the house.

“Joe,” Andy scoffs light-heartedly when Joe dips into a bow and extends his hand. Nile pretends not to notice how long it takes Andy to get out of the car, the way her face twists and her breath catches in her throat. Whatever weight had been lifted upon their arrival, upon the promise of sleep comes crashing back down.

“You okay, boss?” Joe asks, but the joy Nile usually recognizes in his voice is not there.

“Yes,” Andy pats his cheek twice with a smile that does not reach her eyes. “Just need to stretch my legs a bit. I thought when we invented cars they’d eliminate some of the more unpleasant aspects of riding horseback. But as it turns out, sitting in the same position for extended periods of time makes my joints stiff whether I’m in stirrups or in shotgun,” Nile knows just as well as Joe that Andy’s giving a bullshit excuse, but she understands Andy’s need for strength in this. “Why don’t you give Nile the tour? I’ll check the perimeter,”

Joe nods and Nile watches the frown fall across his lips as soon as Andy turns away.

“She’s good,” Nile cannot stop herself from saying. “She’ll be fine,”

Joe’s shoulders fold, his hands massage his neck, and when he turns to look at Nile, his eyes shining, she is struck for the first time by how easily, how readily these people choose kindness and honesty. She’s seen the way they tear through a siege, the ruthlessness and the precision of their actions. Yet when Joe looks at her, a man she’s only known for two days, a man she watched a few hours before pop Keane’s spine out of his neck, he seems so worn, so weary, so...vulnerable. So separate from his capabilities in battle.

“You did good today,” Joe kicks the dirt beneath his feet, sending a couple rocks scattering in different directions. “Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we would have gotten ourselves out of that one if you hadn’t been there,”

Nile smiles “All I did was untie Andy and jump out a window,”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Joe holds the front door open, and Nile steps through into the bright, inviting warmth of the cottage. “You’ve done a lot for us, for Andy, already. I look forward to getting to know you better. You’re going to make one hell of an addition to the team,”

“Thank you, Joe,”

Joe grins “I’m always here if you want to talk. But for now, let me show you around,”

After a quick pit stop to the bathroom, Joe and Nile walk together through the cottage, and as she listens to Joe, Nile finds it a little easier to accept the new conditions of her life. She watches the way he gestures when he speaks, makes a mental note of all the little details he shares with her, the dates of when the cottage was built and what missions they’d stayed here for. The excitement Nile hears in his voice falters and then falls away all together when Nicky walks by, arms crossed and standing in front of the bathroom door, where the shower has been running for the past few minutes. Joe’s brow furrows and his eyes focus, trained on the back of Nicky’s head, hair matted with his own blood.

“Quel bastardo prenderà tutta l'acqua calda.” Nicky mutters.

Nile bites back a smile as she watches Joe unconsciously turn his body to face Nicky, struggling to find the words he needs to finish his conversation with her. Joe runs his thumb across the ridges of his ring and shakes out his hand.

“Go,” Nile says gently, nods her head towards Nicolo.

“Are you sure?”

“Joe,” Nile gives him a knowing look “Go get your man,”

Joe chuckles, squeezes Nile’s shoulder, and heads toward Nicky. Nile watches the two of them wrap their arms around each other and press their foreheads together, breathing each other in. The intimacy of the action makes Nile worry she’s impeding on their privacy so she pretends to focus on the painting in front of her. They speak to one another, chatting in languages that Nile doesn’t know until she hears Joe say bitterly:

“I’ll kill him,”

“Joe, please.” Nicky pulls away, cups Joe’s face in his hands “He doesn’t deserve to see your anger. He doesn’t deserve anything from you at all.”

“Nicky he-”

“I know what he did,” Nicky shuts the conversation down “He is our family and I love him, but for the time being he has no right to my life, or yours. Booker is young and foolish and desperate still, he does not understand the depth of what he’s done. We will figure out his penance and he will serve it, and then we can move on from this.”

“Nicolo-”

“Che cosa?”

Joe begins to say something, but shakes his head and instead says “Ti amo,”

“ uhibbuka aydan ”

Joe and Nicky separate at the sound of the front door opening. “Who let Booker shower first?” Andy asks, running her fingers through her hair with a sigh. She opens the door to the bathroom, and bends over to pick up Booker’s bloody clothing “Time’s up, Book,” she calls. Andy wordlessly hands Booker a towel, and Nile averts her eyes in embarrassment as Booker, water still running, steps out of the shower stark naked and wraps the towel around himself. Andy places the bundle of his clothes in his hand, “Burn whatever you can’t salvage,” Booker does not meet Andy’s eye, but he nods. “Joe, Nicky, anything you want Booker to get rid of?”

Joe and Nicky head towards the shower, tugging their shirts off over their heads and tossing them to Booker. Booker leaves Nile and Andy alone in the living room. An awkward silence begins to settle between them, but Nile has spent most of the day without words and she’s starting to get tired of it.

“So,” she begins, “How much you spend on clothes?”

Andy raises an eyebrow, “Depends. We buy shirts for our missions in bulk, because it’s cheaper. Dark clothes help with blood stains, because if we don’t get shot we can just...wash them. It’s not always like this,” Andy sighs, cracks her knuckles, and massages her shoulders.

“You know, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that this week,”  

Andy sighs “You arrived at a uniquely...complicated time and I apologize for that,”

“I don’t think you need to apologize for what happened today. I figured my life was gonna get complicated the minute I was pistol whipped in Afghanistan and woke up in the trunk of some white lady’s armored vehicle, driving through the desert.”

“Yeah, can’t say after all these years that I’m the subtle type,”

“No shit.” Nile smiles, picks dust from under her fingernails. “Were you friends with Heinsberg or something?”

Andy’s eyes are bright and her grin energetic and genuine in a way Nile hadn’t Andy was still capable of. “No, I just likes to sow chaos,”

They chat for a few minutes about nothing in particular. Nile asks about the sculptures on the table, Andy asks about her friends back in Afghanistan. Nile is struck by how natural it seems for her to exist in this space. Andy seems more relaxed than she has in days, Nile can see it in the way she stands, the ease at which conversation flows. The sound of the shower quiets, and the door to the bathroom opens.

“Nile, would you like to go next?” Nicky asks.

“Sure,”

“We left a towel in there for you,” Joe adds.

“Thanks,”

There is a sound of a door opening and closing, and all eyes in the room turn to look at Booker. “I brought you some clothes,” he hands the pile to Nile, and one to Andy, and for a moment Nile cannot help but think that he looks small.

“Joe and I are going to change, and I’ll have dinner started by the time you’re done,” Nicky says, his back to Booker.

Nile nods and closes the door, wipes the steam clinging to the bathroom mirror away, and strips herself down. She takes a moment to look at herself, touches the blood caked to the side of her head, runs a finger down her arm where her bone had been sticking out just a few days before. She looks at her foot, no evidence of an entry or exit wound from the bullet she’d shot into it a few hours ago. She presses a hand to her neck, traces a line down the carotid. The first wound that should have killed her and no scar to prove it. She forces herself to think about something else, singing songs in her head to drive off the existential crisis she can feel brewing. Just a few hours ago she had jumped from 15 stories, felt the blood rush to her head, felt the pain shudder through her body like lightning as a car bent itself beneath her. She had taken lives, and in doing so committed herself to an eternity of slaughter.

She turns the shower on, waits for it to run warm. Within a minute she can hear the muffled sounds of shouting, an argument she wouldn’t have been able to understand even if she had wanted to. She sticks her head beneath the stream, watches as the water turns pink beneath her feet. She massages shampoo into each cornrow, making a mental note to pick up some supplies the next time they were anywhere near civilization. This bathroom was not stocked with her hair texture or skin type in mind. She scrubs herself down with the washcloth they had left her by the sink. Wonders to herself as she hangs the cloth up to dry how many gallons of bleach the Guard must go through after missions. Free of blood, Nile conditions her hair, turns off the shower, and pats herself dry. She finds no moisturizers, no lotions, no oils or gels in the bathroom cabinets, slips into the clothing Booker has given her, and steps into the living room.

“You could have just volunteered yourself,” Joe is standing in the kitchen when Nile returns. “There was absolutely no need to sell us all out,”

“I wasn’t trying to sell you out,” Booker exclaims, and Nile realizes there are advantages to the lack of questioning she’s been subjected to. Mostly that she hasn’t had time to tell anyone she grew up speaking French. “If he could get your DNA then it’s possible he could have figured out a way to-”

“Sebastian,” Andy sighs “stop,”

It is a testament to her command, the respect and reverence these old friends have for one another that Andy need not raise her voice to be heard over shouting. Booker deflates, unscrews the top of his flask and takes a swig “Oh. No need to stop on my account.” Nile’s voice fills the sudden silence “I can hang out somewhere else. I was just looking for a plastic bag. I’ve got conditioner in that has to sit for twenty minutes and need to wrap my head,”

“I’m not. You’re a member of this team now, Nile,” Andy responds, “You should be a part of every conversation that we have. I’m just...tired, and hungry, and covered in blood, I want to shower, and honestly, I don’t care what Booker has to say about his choices right this very minute. I think we should just eat dinner and pick this particular conversation up in the morning,”

“Sure, boss,” Booker and Joe speak together, and Nile watches Nicky whisper low to Joe, slip something into his hand, and push him out of the kitchen. He wipes his fingers on the hand towel sitting on his shoulder, and stirs whatever canned good he’d put on the stove to warm.

“Here’s that bag,” Joe places it gently on her head, it feels familiar, familial in a way that almost knocks Nile off her feet with homesickness.

“Thanks,”

“Okay, I’m going to get cleaned up,” Andy inches towards the bathroom. “Nicky and Joe, finish cooking and set the table. Booker, get the rooms ready. Nile, put your feet up, watch some TV, decompress a little, you’ve earned it,”

Before she can fully process the request, Nile finds herself alone in the foyer. While she’s searching for the remote, Nile realizes that the shower has not started up. She knocks softly on the bathroom door and looks over her shoulder to make sure no one else is paying attention. Nicky and Joe are bickering with one another about the addition of salt to the dish they are preparing, and Booker is nowhere to be seen so she asks a question.

“Andy, you okay in there?”

It takes a moment for her to respond, “I’m fine,” a comment she punctuates with a sharp inhale of breath.

“You sure about that?” Nile pries “Do you wanna give me your dirty laundry?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Andy replies, which she follows rather quickly with a quiet “fuck,”

“Andy, do you need help?”

“I–” Andy stops herself “No,”

Nile doesn’t believe her. “Andy, I know everything hurts. I know you’re worried about what we’re all going to think, but let me make it clear. I don’t care, I don’t pity you, and I won’t judge. I’ve been immortal for like...four days. If you’re bleeding or bruised I’m not gonna freak or feel bad about it. I’d honestly be more creeped out if you were completely fine.” Nile puts a hand on the doorknob and lowers her voice. “It just, sounds like you need help, and there is no point in causing yourself potential harm for the sake of appearances,”

The door opens and Andy drags Nile into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind them. “I just don’t want the guys to worry.” Andy says.

“I know,”

“I kind of wish Booker had just killed me with that gunshot.” Andy winces as she tries to remove her shirt. Nile helps Andy untangle her arms from the sleeves, tosses the shirt onto the floor. “This whole mortality thing is kind of a pain in the ass.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Nile teases.

Andy smirks “You’re so kind,”

“I’m sorry...did you want sympathy?” she asks, Andy kicks off her shoes and her pants, grabbing Nile’s arm to steady herself.

“No,” Andy laughs “No I did not,”

“I think we should get that looked at,” Nile moves on, pointing to the bandage on Andy’s abdomen, soaked with blood. “Looks like you re-opened the bullet wound.”

“I’m not going to the hospital,”

“Okay well, let’s just get the blood off of you first, and go from there. I feel like we should try not to get it wet though.”

“Fine, just...help me into the tub,” Nile holds Andy’s weight, pretends not to see the way Andy grits her teeth when she steps over the rim. She lowers herself down until she is sitting in the bottom of the tub, and reaches for a washcloth and some soap. Andy’s body is riddled with cuts and bruises, and Nile understands why Andy was hesitant to ask for help. It’s a pretty gruesome sight, even for someone who was expecting injury.

Andy sighs, a deep, exhausting thing, and leans against the back of the tub. She dips the washcloth in the water, lathers it up with soap and starts to scrub at the parts of her skin that are not tender. Nile closes the toilet seat and sits herself down.

“So…while you have me trapped here, in pain and unable to stand, do you have any other pressing questions about immortality, or...anything really?”

Nile chews her lip, feels her cheeks get warm “I’ll be this age forever, right?”

“Yup,”

“Does that mean....okay this is gonna sound stupid,” Nile closes her eyes so she won’t have to see Andy’s face when she asks “Will I still get my period?”

“Oh no,” Andy chuckles “God no. Your body heals itself, so there is no tissue to shed. If I still got my period I probably would have tried harder to end my immortality. Can you imagine thousands of years of that shit?”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to,”

Andy wrings out the blood and dirt from her washcloth, and tries to reach behind her to scrub at her back. She bites back a cry of pain, the water rushing through the tub spout drowns out whatever sound escapes her lips. Nile takes the cloth wordlessly, begins to wipe the grime away from Andy’s skin “How many times have you died?”

“Lost count,” Andy stares at her feet. “At least two thousand, probably more,”

“How many times have you blown yourself up?”

“Five,”

“Only five?”

“Blown myself up or been blown up?”

“Blown up,”

“Then probably...forty,”

“What is the weirdest way you’ve died?”

“I ate mercury,”

“What?”

“Joe dared me too,”

“Most embarrassing way you’ve ever died?”

“Are all your questions going to be about my deaths?”

“How old are you?”

“Around sixty-five hundred. My foot got tangled in the sling of a trebuchet as I was helping place the payload and I got hurtled into the sky,”

“Have you ever tried to figure out why this is happening?”

“How would I do that?”

“I don’t know, but...aren’t you curious?”

“No,” Andy’s voice isn’t dismissive when she replies.

“Why don’t you believe in God?”

“I told you before, there was a time that I was worshipped as a God, but I’m just a person who has a hard time making death stick to her. I can’t shape the world, I can’t heal the sick, I can only kill,”

“And save,”

Andy looks at Nile and there is something in her eyes Nile doesn’t know how to decipher. “Regardless, having been a God to some sorry fuckers thousands of years ago, I have a hard time thinking that any part of it is real. As old as I am and as travelled as I’ve been, I’ve seen many religions rise and fall around all different types of Gods. And while I understand the comfort of prayer, community, and worship, it just hard for me to think that God exists when I see something so many people have believed in and have devoted themselves to disappear within a few decades. But you can believe whatever you want, I’m sorry if I was harsh about your religion before,”

“I appreciate that,” Nile’s hand freezes as she goes to scrub the dirt from Andy’s shoulders and finds a stab wound sitting there instead, cut deep and oozing. “Where did you get this?”

“Goussainville,”

“Its bleeding,”

“Is it?”

“Okay Andy, first of all, you can’t keep shit like this from anyone anymore. Secondly– and I can’t believe I have to ask this question –do you have bandages here? A first aid kit?”

“Yes, in my bag. I bought some the other night,”

“I’ll go grab it,” Nile hands Andy the shampoo and conditioner and slips out of the bathroom to go in search of medical equipment. Joe and Nicky look up from their work and raise their eyebrows quizzically. Nile pretends she doesn’t see them.

Booker is precariously balancing a stack of bedsheets when Nile comes into the room. “Have you seen Andy’s bag?” she asks him. Booker’s eyes are red when he looks up at her.

“Um, yeah,” he throws the sheets down, roots through the pile of bags on the floor. “Here,”

“Thanks,” Nile’s replies, her voice hesitant. She looks Booker over as she sifts through the bag. “How are you?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Booker seems desperate “I didn’t know,”

“She knows,”

“I thought I- it doesn’t matter,” Booker shakes his head. “I should have realized they would lie,”

“I know you think you were doing something good,” Nile says carefully. “But that wasn’t a choice you made with everyone, it’s a choice you made for everyone. Booker, if you have to kidnap your friends to get them to do something, maybe it wasn’t a good idea in the first place,”

“You’re right…” Booker plays with the edge of the folded bed sheets, not meeting her eyes. “We’ve all done things to piss each other off before, but this is really bad. I don’t know what I’m gonna do...what they’re gonna do,”

“I don’t either,” Nile finds the first aid kit, and leaves Booker alone. Andy is washing the suds out of her hair when Nile returns. “Anyone have medical training?”

“Nicky,”

“Are you okay with having him look at you? You have to be more careful now,”

“I know,”

“You think you know, but you haven’t been mortal in...over six thousand years. You can push yourself an awful lot, but you can’t ignore your injuries. When was the last time you had an infection? Or had to take medication?”

“Fine,” Andy sighs “Let me put on some pants.” Nile helps Andy out of the tub, turns the water cold and rinses the conditioner out of her hair as Andy dries herself off, struggles into her underwear and sweatpants.

“Nicolo,” Andy pokes her head out of the door “Vieni qui per favore,”

Without hesitation, Nicky joins them in the bathroom, “Everything okay, Andy?”

“Nile is worried I may need medical attention. She hasn’t taken any bandages off but she said there was blood on them and is concerned that I may have ripped my stitches, or whatever the hell it was they did to me,”

“Also she has a stab wound she didn’t tell anyone about on her shoulder,”

Nicky turns to look at Nile, then back to Andy, he raises his eyebrow slightly, and shakes his head when Andy shrugs. “I’m assuming it is okay for me to examine you?”

“Yeah,”

Nile watches Nicky work, how delicately he removes her bandages, the intensity of his stare as he analyzes the damage. “The stitches have definitely slipped,” he presses his hand to Andy’s stomach, rolling his palm slightly around her abdomen and then close to where her bruises have started to bloom. “You don’t have a rigid abdomen, so there’s probably not internal bleeding. Let me see the others,” Andy complies, resting her chin upon her hands, rolling her neck until it cracks. “The back seems to have slipped as well, and the shoulder one is a little too old for stitches. I don’t have sutures here, but I could glue it if you want,”

“Do you still need me?” Nile asks, a little woozy.

“I’ve got her,” Nicky replies.

Nile leaves the room and nearly jumps out of her skin when Booker and Joe rush to her “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nile pours herself a glass of wine. “It’s all good,”

Booker and Joe finish setting the table and they all prepare themselves for dinner. Nicky and Andy join them soon after they have sat down to eat. Over dinner, the attention turns to Nile, she is attacked from all sides with all the burning questions the immortals have about her life. Joe learns of Nile’s interest in art history and spends the rest of the meal excitedly telling her fun facts about every famous artist they’d ever met. Nile sits on the kitchen counter while the others wash the dishes. She listens to them hum snippets of long forgotten songs, and marvels at the way they move around one another without needing to speak. They are more than just a team, more than just a family, Nile realizes as Joe starts up a gramophone. When they are all together they are a single living organism.

Booker tries to offer her more wine and Joe tries to pull her, gently, off the countertop so he can teach her how to swing dance. Nile is not exactly shy, and under different circumstances she knows she would have participated more in the evening's festivities. But for tonight, Nile stays rooted in place, as a casual observer of their joy. Nile feels happier than she has in months, as she watches them drink, as Joe prays, and as the old friends dance together. A promise of what this life could be. The evening begins to calm and Andy, skin flushed and pupils dilated, and Booker head to bed.

“You coming?” Joe asks Nicky, who has been sitting at the dining room table, propping his head up with his hand, reading a book.

“Later,” Nicky looks up from the page “I’d like to read for a bit,”

“Okay,” Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s temple “Goodnight,”

“Night, love,”

Nile moves to sit on the living room couch, rests her arms on her knees, hangs her head so she can focus on the floor. She finally lets herself breathe, lets herself think about everything that she just went through. The burning pinch of the bullets that riddled her, the way her bones felt moving underneath her skin, the smell of blood and dust. She thinks of the man that killed her, the way life had left his eyes, how Andy had a similar look in her eye when the two of them peered out the broken window in Merrick’s penthouse. She runs her hands across her head, rubs the tears from her eyes. She needs to think, to make a decision. The longer she stays here the harder it is for her to justify leaving. This is a family, not hers, not yet, but she knows how easily it could be. She pulls out her phone, spends too long staring, blurry eyed at photos of her family. She thinks about her brother, his passion, his joy, and his sadness. She thinks of her mother, how hard she had worked to provide them a life they could be proud of, how determined she was to be happy despite the wrongs the world had handed her. She thinks of the emptiness that consumed their family when her father died, how badly her mother’s hand had shaken when she’d closed the door behind the officers that had delivered the news. Could she put her family through that again? Could she put her mother through that?

“I made you some hot chocolate,” Nicky places a steaming mug down on the coffee table. Nile blinks up at Nicky, so wrapped up in her own head she hadn’t fully processed what he’d said to her.

“Oh.” Nile sits up a little straighter “Thank you,”

“Could I join you?”

“Sure,” Nile holds the mug between her hands and lets the heat spread across her fingers.

“I’m not sure that it tastes very good, but sometimes all you need is a little warmth,”

“Thank you, Nicky,”

“Of course,” he takes a sip of his own drink. “How are you feeling about all of this, Nile?”

Nile sighs “Honestly? I have no idea,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what I want, I’m not sure what to do,”

“Do about what?”

“Any of it– All of it.” Nile watches the ceiling fan circle, searching for the right words “I’m not sure how to feel about this immortality business. I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet, it still feels like a dream. I keep pinching myself just to see if I’ll wake up. I’ve died four times in the last week, I keep having nightmares, and I just,” Nile’s lip trembles “I just want my Mom, you know?”

“I do,” he admits “They don’t tell you when you train for battle how many people will die crying out for their mothers. In times of strife, in times of fear, we want that which will bring us comfort.  I’ve lived for nine-hundred years, and time has eaten away at a lot of my memories. I can’t remember what my mother looks like, but some days I am hit with an overpowering wave of melancholy knowing that I will never see her again. I can still remember how it felt, the first couple of times. How terrifying it was, how isolating, and every time I came back to life I thought of her, I wanted her to be there to tell me it was okay. But at the time I thought there was a devil in me, so I never let myself go back.” Nicky turns the full force of his attention towards Nile, and though every action he performs is gentle and controlled, Nile shrinks under the pressure of his gaze. “You’re an incredibly strong person, Nile,”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be,”

“You don’t always,”

Nile stifles a laugh, because Nicky means well, but he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what it is like to wear her skin, to grow up where she did. And while she has no doubt he’s faced trials and tribulations, and had his fair share of hate spewed at him, no amount of time on Earth will ever let him understand what she means. “I think I want to go home,”

“Why?”

“I want a better goodbye. I want to hear my mother’s voice again, I want to hug her one last time,”

“And what purpose does that serve?”

“I don’t know…” Nile shrugs, she looks to Nicky with lost eyes. “I don’t want them to suffer, I don’t want them to have to mourn me,”

“What happens if they start to realize you aren’t aging?”

“I leave,”

“And cause them pain,” under different circumstances, Nile would have thought this point was cruel, but to Nicky it’s a matter of fact. It is not a question, it is not a hypothetical, it’s merely...truth.

“I know what it was like, after my Dad died. I don’t know that I can put them through that,”

“You’ll have to do it eventually. You just have to decide whether you cause them misery now, or later,”

“I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye,” Nile’s voice cracks.

“Nile,” Nicky takes her hand, brushes a tear from her cheek, “No one ever is,”

“Ugh sorry,” Nile takes a raggedy breath, sniffles, and forces herself to smile, though it falters for a moment. “I don’t normally cry,”

“Why not?”

“It makes me feel weak, it makes me feel vulnerable,”

“But neither of those things are true,” Nicky takes a sip of his drink, “could I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,”

“Why did you come back?”

“What?”

Nicky’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the words. “When Andromache and Booker were brought into the lab, we asked after you, wanting to make sure you were okay, you were safe. I don’t think any of us would have forgiven ourselves if you had been captured too. Andy said that you had left, that you wanted to get as much time as you could with your family before the immortality caught up to you. We didn’t know if we’d ever see you again....until you came bursting through that door,” Nile feels her cheeks go warm “So...why? What caused you to come back?”

Nile examines the contents of the mug between her fingers, takes a sip to wash the tremble out of her voice. “Right before I left, Andy handed me her pistol and told me to get rid of the weapons before I got on a train. When I went to toss them, I noticed the clip was empty. Booker was the one that prepped that gun for her, so I knew something was up,”

“Ok,” Nicky surveys Nile’s face “But that doesn’t answer my question,”

“It doesn’t?”

“No,” Nicky’s lips turn up in the ghost of a smile “Just seeing that gun doesn’t mean you have to come back for us. We basically kidnapped you to get you to come here. You’ve only known us for a few days, you have no obligation to us. You could have looked at that gun, thought something was wrong, and then gone back to your family anyway. But instead...you chose to save us, even after our broken promises. Andy told you we’d keep you safe, and we left you alone, exposed, and in the open,”

“It’s not your fault,”

“I know,” Nicky runs a hand through his hair.

“How did you know about what Andy said to me anyway?”

“She was beating herself up about it in the lab,” Nicky states. “You don’t have to tell me if you do not wish too, Nile. I was just curious,”

“No,I–”  Nile stares straight ahead of her when she says it, focusing her attention on the front door. “It was Quynh,”

“Quynh?” Nicky asks, and Nile nods, forcing herself to face this kind man who asked hard questions.

“And you,”

“Me?”

“You were right. When I first saw the gun I thought about just leaving, figured that whatever was happening you’d have the time to get out of it on your own. But then I thought of Quynh, of feeling her drown over and over; the wildness of it, the insanity. And I thought of what you told me the other night, your fear of capture, of spending an eternity in a box. Feeling what Quynh felt– feels,” Nile corrects herself “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I knew I couldn’t leave you all to that potential future.”

Nicky sizes Nile up and though he smiles warmly at her, she feels like he is staring right into her soul. It’s not uncomfortable, just unexpected, Nile takes another sip of her hot chocolate to break the eye contact. When Nile looks at him again his body seems heavy, he’s staring at nothing in particular and rubbing his wrist absentmindedly.

“How ‘bout you? Are you okay?”

Nicky shakes his head and it takes him a minute to say anything at all “I don’t think so,”

“Were you scared?”

“Only for a moment, when they injected me and Joe with something and I thought they might separate us.”

“But they didn’t,”

“No. I did have to watch him tortured though,”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I’d throw myself in front of every danger to keep him from being hurt,” Nicky admits “And I couldn’t spare him from the pain,”

“Is that why you haven’t said a word to Booker since we left the lab?”

“We had some time to question him,” Nicky says after a moment of contemplation “when they got into the lab. Joe was pretty busy yelling at him, but Booker told us he hadn’t meant for it to go like this. He’d been promised answers to his existence, a potential cure to his immortality, a way to die before his time. He thought that we could all get some answers, that we would all want a way to end this cursed existence.” Nicky runs his hand over his face, looking to Nile with tired eyes. “I have never had a child, so I do not know what it is like to lose one. Much less three. I know Booker is hurt and lonely, and I cannot begin to understand the pain he must have felt having watched his children fade away, without being able to stop it. But he is wrong about us.  

Nicky turns to look behind him to the doorway where Joe is sleeping. “I’ve always had Joe, and Joe has always had me. For Booker, who has seen it all slip away from him, that seems like a blessing, and I don’t disagree. But,” Nicky scratches the back of his head “we have watched each other die over and over again for 900 years. And every time I see him die, I have to wait with grief spreading through my chest before I can reign it in, and hope that he moves again, that I can see him breathe. I throw myself in front of danger to protect Joe all the time, and I do it so that he does not have to suffer the wounds, but there is a part of me that does it because I am selfish. I hope that I will die before him so I do not have to bear losing him forever. I get a taste of what my life would be like without him by my side every time I watch him die, and I know I would be lost. Booker thinks the weight of immortality does not fall upon our shoulders, thinks that because Joe and I have always had each other that we walk on air, oblivious to the harsh realities, the objective truths of living as long as we have. He believes we do not know the loneliness, but Joe and I have lived every day with Death’s scythe above our heads. Booker and Andy do not have a monopoly on the tragedy, self-pity, or loathing that comes with what we do or...what we are. I am just as angry and tired as the rest of them, and there are times I wish I would just die, same as them. But, I make an active choice every single day to not succumb to the pressure. I choose to believe there is a reason for this, that this life has purpose, that we are doing good. I believe Joe makes this life worth it, but so does Andy, so does Booker, Quynh, and Lykon would have too had he lived long enough for us to know him. Booker thinks he is alone, because he does not see all of the wonderful people around him for the gift they are.

“What’s that advice people like to tell children? ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?’ I haven’t said anything to Booker since the lab because I’m angry. I am angry that we were captured, I’m angry at the fear I felt, however brief, over what could have happened had you not been the incredibly kind and compassionate young woman you are. I’m angry that Joe and I bore most of the consequences of Booker’s lapse in judgement. And it’s not anger he deserves, because I believe it was a mistake, I don’t think he would have done it had he known the extent of Merrick’s masochism. I don’t even think I would be mad if it had just been me. But it was Joe the guards beat in the van, it was Joe that Merrick stabbed. Booker never had to suffer the consequences of his own suicide attempt. Perhaps I am being too harsh, but for the moment I have other things to worry about.” Nicky clears his throat, holds his mug between his hands.

“Andy?”

Nicky’s sigh carries centuries on it “Andromache has lived a long life, longer than I can even fathom. She’s done a lot of good in this world, and she deserves the rest. I want to keep her around as long as possible, but I’m happy for her that sometime within the next sixty years or so she will finally know peace. It just….hurts,” Nicky stands, offers to take Nile’s cup “But these are the tired musings of an old man, I probably should not have offered you so much of my burden,”

“I asked,”

“You are a good person, Nile. I’m very glad to know you,”

“So are you,”

“Nile,” Nicky puts the mugs down to dry and says in a voice so low Nile isn’t quite certain she heard it correctly. “Could I give you a hug?”

“I guess?”

Nicky’s arms are strong, and certain when he pulls her in, and while he holds her the ground seems sturdy beneath her feet for the first time since she woke up in that hospital bed. “Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing her tighter “for saving my family,”

“Nicolo,” Joe is standing in the doorway, squinting against the light in the living room. His curls are messy, his beard is ruffled, and Nile has to keep herself from laughing at how adorable he looks.

“Trouble sleeping?” Nicky asks, he says it like it’s a joke, but Nile knows it isn’t.

“I was just thinking how cute I looked laying in that bed, and I would hate to deny you the opportunity to watch me sleep,” Joe winks, his face lighting up in a smile.

“I’ll be in in just a moment, Yusuf, va bene?”

“nem,” Joe disappears back into the bedroom.

Nicky turns back to Nile, and much like Joe’s earlier, when his eyes meet hers, they shine. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think so, are you?”

“I am,” Nicky squeezes Nile’s arm, his right lip pulling upwards “Goodnight, Nile,”

“Night,” she replies as Nicky follows Joe into the other room. While Nile is tired her mind is still working too quickly to settle for the evening, so instead she spends some time pacing the living room. She thinks about the days, about the Guard. Though they live forever, Nile has seen the way they come alive around each other, has seen the love they share. This is a family, she has no doubt, and one she will be lucky to one day feel a part of. When she plugs her phone in to charge, she feels the need to study her mother’s face, to try to commit it to her memory. She leans against the doorframe to the bedroom the others are all sharing, a bed made beautifully at the end, just for her. If Nile hadn’t just spent the last few years sleeping next to a dozen fellow soldiers she’d think that it was weird they always seemed to share a room. She looks at Booker, snoring lightly in his bed, even asleep his face is full of sorrow. At Andy, who is curled up on her right side, eyes flickering rapidly beneath her eyelids, face peaceful. She cannot tell where Joe ends and Nicky begins, the two of them a pile of legs and arms, nestled together warm and close. Nile turns off the lights, fumbles her way in the darkness to the bed, it’s a little lumpy, but much more comfortable than the cot she’s been sleeping in recently. She stares up at the ceiling, listens to the others breathe until she slips into unconsciousness.

That night she does not dream of Quynh, nor the men that she has killed. Instead, she dreams of her father’s combat boots, of the folded flag that hangs above the front door. She dreams of her brother, of the music he’s been working on. She dreams of her father, and feels like she is flying when he lifts her and places her on his shoulders. She dreams of shag carpet against her skin as she sits between her mother’s legs, as her mother braids her hair and calls her beautiful, and reminds her that there is so much life to be lived outside Chicago. “Look,” her mother says, and holds up a mirror. Inside it Nile sees Afghanistan, sees Gousainville, and London. “You have so many more adventures ahead of you,” her mother says, leaning forward so Nile’s cheek is pressed against her own. “Go find them,”

Nile wakes up in the morning to the sound of muffled laughter and makes her choice.

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

You are not hard to love (Nikki x Tommy)

A/N: Spiritual sequel to this one but can be read as stand alone too. I’m always super insecure about posting my fic here because to my brain they just suck ™

Summary:  Recovery isn’t easy and Nikki knew it, but fuck he didn’t expect to be so hard. Especially he didn’t expected to feel like he was poison his sweet Tommy.

The rain was falling down slowly and Nikki loved that. He always found it relaxing almost comforting meanwhile Tommy hated when it was raining, everything was too dark and gloomy for him.

Hearing the little drops falling down always helped the bassist to sleep better, but this time it wasn’t enough. His mind has been tormenting him all day and the cravings got so much worse, during the AA meeting the therapist told him that he used drugs to escape from his past. Heroin made him numb and gave him the illusion to have control over his haunting memories.

So many people believed in the “ they can get better for me” fairytale when their partner decides to get clean but that’s nothing easy when it comes to that, life isn’t peaches and cream… addictions don’t go away just like that, and most importantly you have to get better for yourself first.

Just because he went to rehab and now he was going to AA meetings it didn’t mean he still didn’t get cravings. Actually right now it was even worse because he was digging down to the core and he couldn’t use anything to distract himself.

Just him and his past.

Shame and guilt were constantly haunting him since that night after his death, when Tommy broke down in his arms. Tommy, the poor boy had to put up with him every day and he had no idea how many times he kept the drummer wake because he needed to be comforted after a nightmare, or how many times he held his hair while he was puking ( sometimes he even puked on the poor Tommy), he lost count of all the times he hugged him when he was freezing.

He noticed how Tommy wanted to help him and how sad he was to see him struggling, but he was no superhero he couldn’t always rescue him even if in Nikki’s eyes he was his savior.

Almost as Tommy could hear his thoughts he heard him walking into the living room, hugging Nikki from behind.

“Baby it’s early, what are you doing awake?” The bassist asked surprised, Tommy was anything but an early bird.

“It’s raining and I can’t sleep if you are not hugging me, you know that. Why are you still awake?” He gently started to rub circles on Nikki’s back.

“ I couldn’t sleep, you know rain calms me…”

“Polar opposites I guess, you love it and I hate it”

Nikki couldn’t help but smile a little, however the guilt came back quickly. It wasn’t only that it felt like he was poisoning the younger man, forcing him to live one of the worst experience of his life just because he loved the bassist.

Tommy was happy and bubbly, easily excited and a child at heart meanwhile Nikki was just a fucked up, a junkie coming from a broken home who never knew what love was until he met Tommy. Why  was he even bothering wasting his time with him? He was damaged goods… too broken to be repaired.

Sure he was taking his life back together but he knew he was bound to fail.

“Why are you doing this Tommy?” Nikki whispered loud enough for Tommy to hear him.

“Doing what?”

“Keep putting up with me, why?” He looked so confused, it wasn’t possible for him that somebody cared for him like that.

“ I already told you Nikki…” Tommy always tried to deviate the conversation but Nikki was sick of this, his brain was filled with self-hatred and he felt the anger raising.

“ No Tommy I don’t fucking know it because you always avoid telling me!” He scoffed.

Irritability. It was a constant, the cravings made him angry and not being able to have control made him frustrated, unfortunately most of the time Tommy was the victim of his wrath. See? Another fucking reason to leave him for good.

He was a lunatic out of his mind and the hurt look on Tommy’s face made him sick. Fucking cunt, what the fuck are you doing?!

“What do you want me to do, leave you alone like everyone else did? Shouldn’t you have learned by now that you can’t push me away?!”

His voice was firm and his grip tightened around Nikki almost as he was scared the bassist could run away.

“Don’t you fucking get it? If you stay with me I’m going to break you! Don’t you see the mess I’m now? It will only get worse and you’re going to get stuck with a mental case!”

Those words were filled with venom, it was so easy for him to get angry at himself almost comforting in a twisted way because that’s what he was used to, being comforted and helped didn’t feel right. That’s why he pushed Tommy away, to prevent to get hurt and feeling all the emotions he was hiding.

“If you think that getting away from you is going to help me in any way, then you must have forgotten how bad I was feeling when you came back from the hospital.”

Nikki couldn’t forget it even if he tried. The dead light in Tommy’s eyes, he tears on his cheeks, when he confessed that we wanted to be dead if Nikki wasn’t alive anymore. There was no way out, he either hurt Tommy by being with him or by leaving him.

“You’re not a waste of time” Tommy said it like it was the easiest thing ever and Nikki wanted to scream because these were just lies.

“Don’t…”

“You are not too hard to love, you deserve love”

No no, I fucking don’t! Everybody shoved me that I don’t, every single person who was supposed to love me didn’t! How could you say that?!

“ I fucking love you. I chose to be with you and I choose you, all of you even the painful parts, even the parts you think are fucked up.” Tommy’s heart was pounding, scared to have pushed things too far and Nikki’s silence was just adding more anxiety.

The bassist lift his gaze but he was absolutely terrified until he felt a tiny tear falling down his cheek, without even thinking Tommy took him into his arms and Nikki melted into his embrace. He buried  his head in the other man’s chest and let it all out, Tommy was silent and he was grateful for that because words were useless right now.

“It’s okay Nikki, you can let it all out” a voice inside him said while his boyfriend was gently petting his hair.

He had no idea how much time has passed, he felt exhausted but Tommy’s arms were still holding him and his words floating in his mind.

“You are not hard to love”

“I choose you, all of you”

How was he supposed to believe that? How could Tommy say it so openly? How could he love him so easily?

“Do you want to get to bed?” Tommy asked, rubbing his back.

“ Can we… can we stay here?” Nikki felt so pathetic for asking that, he wasn’t a small child for fuck's sake, but the drummer didn’t say anything, just stretched his arm and grabbed a blanket to put over them.

The sound of the rain and Tommy’s steady heartbeat calmed him down enough to close his eyes. He took his boyfriend’s hand in his and spoke to him.

“Tommy”

“Uh?!”

“ I love you so fucking much. You are the best thing happened to me” It was a whisper but he knew Tommy heard it.

“ You are not alone, I won’t leave you alone”.

Tommy’s voice was firm and even if Nikki’s trust issues made him doubt he knew his boyfriend really mean it. He stuck with him even during possibly the hardest period of his life, so why would he leave when things would get easier?

Maybe he just had to let himself go, let Tommy and his love get inside him without any fear.

“You won’t hurt me?” It was a desperate whisper but he needed to know.

“ I won’t hurt you Nikki, I promise.”

Nikki looked him in the eyes and he knew he could believe him.

[cupcakemolotov]

Far From the Shallow Now

Synopsis: Caroline needs to get her head on straight after the ball and is still awake when Klaus drops by.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence × Pre-Relationship × Technically Tyler and Caroline Are Still Together × No cheating × Still Mostly Tyler Friendly × A Moment After the Ball × a what if × Domestic Fluff × Sort Of ×

A tiny pieces would be part of the random snippet series. Just a bit of a what if Caroline had been up when Klaus dropped off the drawing. You can read it here on A03 if you prefer.

                                                       -

The kitchen smelled like her childhood. Warm brown sugar and melting chocolate, the memory of afternoons spent baking with her dad were precious moments that still ached. Pre-vampire Caroline has really hated cooking, and she’d found her opinion hadn’t changed much over the past few months. But baking? With its necessary precision and attention to detail, even the most finicky of recipes soothed her. It had been her dad that had first put a wooden spoon in her hand, who had sighed at her scrunched nose and red face and smoothed her bangs.

“Come on, Care Bear. Let’s try a new recipe today. I’ll let you pick.”

But those memories had been filled with afternoon sunshine and the blare of a radio, and they had been a long time ago. Long before the silence between her parents had grown cold and Bill’s business trips had taken longer and longer. Her childhood was bittersweet and it clogged her throat to think of all the things she’d lost.

But that was for another night.

Tonight, all she had was the silence of her home and the shadows of the neighborhood around her. With her mom working the graveyard shift, she had the house to herself. It had been a relief to come home to shadows and silence after the noise and color of the ball. A chance to process and detox, push away the memory of Klaus’ hands on her skin, the boyish, curling smile on his face and the anger as she’d walked away from him. Breath shuddering in her throat, she stirred the cookie dough a little more thoroughly.

A little pre-baking cleaning had helped calm her juggling nerves and here she was, getting worked up again. The fridge was stuffed with sympathy casseroles, and she’d thrown out dozens of wilting flower arrangements. The cards were neatly stacked and organized in piles alphabetically and according to whom she still needed to reply to.

Her mom probably wouldn’t even notice.

Tomorrow’s project would involve freezing what was left of the food that her mom would eat, she’d already packed the leftovers into Tupperware so she could return the pans to her neighbors. But her dad had taught her to never return a dish empty, so at least her midnight baking would have a purpose. Absently licking at a smear of cookie dough, Caroline watched the clock on the oven click over past 3 AM, and mentally counted her blood bags. She’d need an extra tomorrow, to offset her lack of sleep, but her mind couldn’t stop spinning.

Is it so hard to believe I fancy you?

She’d showered as soon as she’d gotten home, needing to remove Klaus’ lingering scent from her skin. She scrubbed herself pink with her favorite soap, and stood in the shower far longer than needed. The dress was already folded and packed in the box it had arrived in, her bra and underwear at the bottom of her dirty clothes hamper. Now she was sitting in her kitchen in old cheer sweats, and surrounded by two dozen cookies while she worked on the next batch.

And nothing had managed to stop the wheels spinning in her head.

Running a hand down her face, Caroline tried again to decide how she felt about the fiasco that had been her night. The dancing, the hunger and lust in his gaze, those falsely boyish smiles and the rage that had burned when she’d flung his diamonds back at his face.

Klaus had meant every word he’d said and none of it. That was the game he played. Perfection and coercion, falsely sweet words that clung like poisoned honey. It’d been easier to push aside her curiosity, that niggling fascination for how his brain worked before he’d turned his gaze towards her.

Klaus was a monster. But he was a smart one, always steps and steps ahead of his enemies. She didn’t want him, she needed to not want him, and she was pretty sure he didn’t want her either, and it stiffened her shoulders to think he saw her as the distraction Damon insisted she play or his very own potential Trojan horse.

She would never betray her friends.

But Caroline didn’t want to die.

Eyes closing at the thought, she took a careful breath. The games Damon played were dangerous. Esther, Bonnie, all his siblings were spinning on a course that could only lead to collateral damage, and she was sick of it.

Tyler too sometimes only saw her as useful. Her dad had died helping him and still the last time they’d talked he’d wanted her to play more games. As if she wasn’t drowning in grief and what if’s, as if her world hadn’t been twisted as violently as his, as if she wasn’t trapped in a spiderweb she had no idea how to escape. Her fingers tightened on the wooden spoon, and she exhaled slowly.

She and Tyler hadn’t chosen what had been done to them but they could choose how they responded and she was starting to feel less and less comfortable about the bitterness he carried. The hard edge of rage. Whatever had happened when he left and found Hayley had sharpened parts of Tyler she hadn’t known were there and she wondered what he saw when he looked at her. If what he saw made him as uncomfortable as it made her.

Lips flattening at the thought, she reached for the bag of chocolate chips and froze at the sounds of her front door opening. Eyes snapping up, body going taut at the potential threat, her stomach knotted at the sight of Klaus stepping into her home.

For a long moment, they just studied each other.

In the hours since she’d left the ball, he’d ditched his jacket and bow tie, his white waistcoat nowhere to be found. His hair was no longer so perfectly arranged, he’d rolled his shirt sleeves to bare his forearms, and if that wasn’t enough to spike her blood pressure, he still wore his suspenders. Hidden behind the counter-top, her nails dug reflexively into her palm. He’d been stupidly good looking earlier at the ball with his sly smiles and dimpled promises, but this? Rumpled, lips bitten red, his gaze dragging along her body with a slow perusal that set her nerves of fire was something else entirely.

Klaus smiled slow, cheeks creasing, all of the anger from before tucked beneath charm and guile. “I’m surprised you’re still awake, love.”

“Your family is exhausting,” she agreed tartly, straightening her spine. “But of the two of us, I’m the only or who is expected to be here at all. Kind of rude, just bargaining in, don’t you think?”

He gave an elegant little shrug and strolled closer. Her jaw flexed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box and setting it on an empty space on the counter. “I do have an invitation. And perhaps it is also just as rude, don’t you think, to return gifts?”

Shoving the wooden spoon back into the cookie dough before she was tempted to smack him with it, Caroline settled a hand on her hip and faked her bravado. “It’s way ruder to offer gifts with so many strings in the first place.”

An amused glance from beneath his lashes before he peered at her cooling racks of cookies. “Most women enjoy apology jewelry.”

“I must have missed the apology.”

One dimple peaked high on his smile and he snagged a cookie. “I didn’t realize you baked.”

She narrowed her eyes as he took a bite, his clear dodge. This entire conversation felt surreal, a little bit domestic, and a lot concerning. Wasn’t she just thinking about how dangerous he was? This, this charm, only highlighted that danger. He slipped so easily from mood to mood, as mercurial as the wind and she needed to remember that.

Promises or no.

“It’s not like we really exchange small talk. And that’s the only cookie you get. I have a dozen dishes to fill and I need this done before mom gets home.” She tipped her chin towards the dining room table where the clean dishes and tinfoil were waiting for her. She was willing to bet he'd already noted the dishes, but so what. “So why don't you get to your point and leave?”

Klaus made a thoughtful noise as he finished the cooking, dusting his hands of crumbs. “Need help?”

“From you? Absolutely not.” The words slipped out before she could catch him and find something politer to say. This was her grief, her method of coping. He didn't get an opinion and he didn't get to pretend they were friends. Not when he wold kill all of them if he thought it necessary. This? This mess and this grief and this small thing to help her mom was hers.

The smile died on his face but she didn’t flinch. She didn't know what he read on his face, but his head tipped in a silent acknowledgement. Instead of baiting her more, his hand returned to his pocket, and this time he produced a rolled up piece of parchment.

Caroline looked at it warily. “What is that?”

“Part of the apology,” he murmured as he set it delicately on top of the box holding the diamonds. “The bracelet is yours love, no strings. Do with it what you will. As for the rest.” He paused, blue eyes narrowed as he studied her, a hint of gold burning the edges of his iris. “The games my mother plays are not kind to her pawns. Be sure you don’t find yourself in over your head, Caroline.”

She lifted her chin to hide her tremble. “Threats?”

“Call it a warning.” Klaus said. “Likely the only one you’ll get.” Just as quickly, that sense of danger melted under another smile and he snagged a second cookie before turning and sauntering away at her protest.She slid her tongue between her teeth at the sight of just how well his pants were tailored and the way the suspenders highlighted the length of his back. The image was going to be burned behind her eyes for days.

As if he could sense her gaze dragging down his spine, he cast one more boyish smile at her as he opened her door. “The cookies were delicious, love. I do so look forward to learning what other secrets you're keeping.”

She watched him go, barely breathing, a mix of alarm and arousal mixing with adrenaline. So many layers. The hidden threat in his words, the reminder that he could walk into her home whenever he wished. The return of the bracelet, that little bit of claim he’d laid on her life.

An apology.

Swallowing, she wiped her shaking hands on her sweats and reached for the parchment. It unrolled to show the familiar lines of her face and the perfect image of a horse.

Thank you for your honesty.

Swallowing, she set the drawing down and didn’t know what to think.

[limjaeseven]

Don’t Wanna Know (5/8)

VERSE 2: PART 5 OF 8

Pairing: Jinyoung X Jaebeom ft Seulgi of Red Velvet

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2,064

Summary: Jinyoung gets casted in his first mainstream movie and he wants to tell Jaebeom about it. The elder never picks up his phone.

Warning(s): Mentioned cancer, sad JJP

Jinyoung had hoped that they would stop ghosting each other after their fight in high school but that didn’t really happen. They had always bickered and argued, being complete opposites but after that first fight, Jinyoung didn’t think he could take anything like that ever again. He remembered those four months of ignoring Jaebeom because looking at his face hurt.

The words tore him apart, but what was worse was the way Jinyoung could see Jaebeom beating himself up. From the dark circles to the short tempered attitude, he knew that Jaebeom was hurting just as much as he was but the things that he said held Jinyoung back from comforting him. He wondered when things would get better and though they eventually did, it was a painful journey.

Their next time they didn’t talk to each other for a while happened after they graduated from college. They had been living in the same apartment for almost four years and had gotten good jobs at respectable firms, Jinyoung having signed with a small acting company and Jaebeom with a production house. Things were going well till Jaebeom told him he was in love.

Seulgi was her name, she was an intern at the production house and the most beautiful woman Jaebeom had seen. He spoke of her endlessly to Jinyoung, who just felt the strong urge to bury himself alive. Jinyoung had known he was in love with Jaebeom for years. It wasn’t even that he liked men, he just knew that he wanted no one but Jaebeom.

He remembers the first time he got her home, she was one of the nicest people Jinyoung had ever met, making it impossible for Jinyoung to hate her, and most importantly, she made Jinyoung happy. Jinyoung had never seen Jaebeom smile like that, like the weight that he forever carried on his shoulders had vanished and been replaced with a cloud.

They went out a lot, Seulgi never staying over mostly for Jinyoung’s benefit. She lived alone so Jaebeom spent most of his time at her apartment. Shared breakfasts with Jinyoung became texts letting him know that he’d spent the night at her house and driving together to work became apologies about needing to drop her somewhere.

Jinyoung hoped that it would fade, despite the fact that Jaebeom was happy, a selfish part of him wanted them to breakup, sending Jaebeom rushing back to him. The other part of him weighed down with guilt over those thoughts. It was a vicious cycle of jealousy and self-hatred that made Jinyoung feel like he was drowning.

The world came crashing down on Jinyoung when Jaebeom announced that they were moving in together. Jaebeom was leaving him for good, Jinyoung thought. He knew that he wasn’t actually going anywhere, they were still best friends and nothing would ever come between them but for Jinyoung’s brain it was a big red signal telling him that he wasn’t needed anymore.

“Isn’t it too fast, hyung? You’ve only been dating for six months” Jinyoung didn’t know if he was trying to reason with Jaebeom or himself.

“I barely come here anymore, half my clothes are in her wardrobe. I know it’s faster than usual but I think she’s the one, Jinyoungie” And Jinyoung believed his words. The look in his eyes told him that this was it, the woman he was going to marry, he could already picture them with two little kids in his head. It took everything for him to not fall to the floor from the sheer emotional exhaustion.

Packing was much easier than Jinyoung thought it would be, he hadn’t noticed the way that most of Jaebeom’s possessions were already gone. He didn’t know if it was ignorance or denial on Jinyoung’s part but Jaebeom had found someone he wanted forever. He had known that it wouldn’t be just the two of them forever, he knew that eventually they’d have to find their own paths in life but this was all too soon.

Jinyoung cried that night, as he sat on the floor of Jaebeom’s empty room. He couldn’t imagine living alone, even when Jaebeom wasn’t at home, Jinyoung could at least walk in there, smell his perfume on the clothes, fell his presence in the space but now it just felt sad.

They met less and less as time passed by, their lives packed with work and love for Jaebeom. Jinyoung moved into a smaller apartment closer to his workplace, unable to sleep without Jaebeom across the hall from him in their old home. The housewarming party was just Jaebeom, Jinyoung and a bottle of wine, which was only for the younger since Jaebeom had sworn off alcohol.

Then came the day that Jinyoung got casted in his first movie, it was a medium budget rom-com and Jinyoung was only a supporting character but it was still a big deal to him. He had tried to call Jaebeom to tell him about it but the elder never picked up his call. Desperately wanting Jaebeom to come meet him on set once he called and called but it was never answered.

Months passed by and the shooting wrapped up, but there was still no contact from Jaebeom. He tried going to his apartment only to be told he had moved out months prior. That’s when the despair really kicked in, Jaebeom didn’t want him anymore, he didn’t even bother telling him he was moving out. As a last resort, Jinyoung went to Jaebeom’s workplace, just to talk to him once and he wasn’t there. He saw Seulgi but she looked uncomfortable as she spoke to him.

“Where is hyung?” He asked, desperate for answers.

“I’m sorry Jinyoung but Jaebeom can’t meet you right now, he’s been quite busy and wants no distractions” He could tell she was lying, Seulgi wasn’t a good liar.

“Can you just give these to him?” Jinyoung handed over two tickets for the premiere of his film to her before leaving. He still didn’t receive any calls from Jaebeom, things were over between them forever, he thought.

Jinyoung didn’t realise how quickly the day of the premiere came. He felt like he was dying as he donned on his brand new suit and walked down the red carpet with his co-stars. His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he looked into the cameras, his jokes not carrying any of the energy. The seat he had reserved for Jaebeom and Seulgi was just down the row and no matter how many times he checked, there was no one there. Even after the movie started, Jinyoung hoped that they would come in, apologising for being late and congratulate him afterward for his achievement.

He received compliments from his colleagues and critics alike who attended the screening but he didn’t hear any of them. He put up his act long enough for him to exit the building from a side exit, away from the public eye.

The tears welled up the moment he was alone, Jinyoung’s body growing weak as he let the events of the previous hours sink in. It had probably been the most important moment in Jinyoung’s life, and Jaebeom didn’t come. He tried to walk around outside the theatre a bit to get some air but his lungs felt like they were full of water. He struggled to breathe, his legs moments from giving away.

Every attempt at rationalising Jaebeom’s actions failed and Jinyoung realised that he was fighting a lost cause. Breathing deeply, he reached his hand out to hail a taxi. Just as he was stepping into the vehicle, he thought he heard his name being called out, it sounded like Jaebeom’s voice. He didn’t turn back though, he just scolded himself for fabricating his presence because there was no way Jaebeom was there.

It had been two days after Jinyoung’s housewarming party that Jaebeom collapsed at work. He was in the middle of directing a scene for a music video when he just crumbled and fell, fortunately one of his co-workers caught him before he could hit his head on the ground.

Seulgi had been nearby at the time and accompanied him as he was rushed into the hospital. Jaebeom had changed his emergency contact from his parents to her just to make sure Jinyoung wouldn’t find out about his condition. Seulgi knew, he had told her that early into them dating, letting her know that he wouldn’t be around for too long. He had also made her promise to never tell Jinyoung.

She had waited outside the ICU for nearly four hours before the doctor came out to tell her what was wrong but all she could hear was ‘worse’ and ‘not much time’ through the cloud of fear surrounding her. He had let her know that he was unconscious but she could meet him when she heard Jaebeom’s phone buzz next to her. She had received it from one of the nurses who had seen it fall out of his jacket pocket as he was wheeled in.

Seeing Jinyoung’s caller ID terrified her, what was she supposed to tell him? She hoped that if she didn’t answer he would not call again but the calls kept coming. Scared, she blocked his number, making a mental note to tell Jaebeom when he woke up.

But he didn’t wake up, not for a while. His body grew weaker in the days he was at the hospital, his body waiting to succumb to his condition. Their apartment was too far away from the hospital for Seulgi to travel back and forth everyday so with the help of her parents she moved into a place nearby after being informed that Jaebeom could easily be admitted for months.

And that he was, it was three months till he was discharged. It took another few weeks for him to finally come back to normal. He finally got a hold of his phone the day of the premiere but was surprised to see no calls from Jinyoung.

“Did Jinyoung not even call me once?” He mused. He asked Seulgi about it who had completely forgotten about blocking Jinyoung and she apologised profusely as he told her about what she had done. Though he tried to empathise with her actions he was mad beyond belief. He knew he would have hurt Jinyoung immensely by just disappearing off the face off the earth for months.

He tried to call Jinyoung but his phone was switched off. Dejected, he headed to bed to get some rest but just as he was about to turn the lights off he noticed two tickets on the bedside table. He had never heard of the movie mentioned on the tickets and was confused as to why they had premiere tickets to the show.

Looking up the name of the film on his phone, Jaebeom felt his entire world come crashing around himself. Park Jinyoung, his Jinyoungie was listed as one of the cast members. Jinyoung had finally been casted in a movie and Jaebeom had missed its premiere.

The screening started at 7 pm and it was nearly ten, Jaebeom cursed out loud as he rushed to throw on some clothes, he hoped Jinyoung was still caught up in the interviews so that he could at least show his face at the event. He ignored Seulgi as she asked him where he was going and hopped into his car, driving as fast as he could.

Parking his car outside the theatre, he noticed the press interviewing the main cast in the lobby of the theatre but Jinyoung was nowhere to be seen.

“Lim Jaebeom?” One of the staff members called out as they noticed his presence.

“Have you seen Park Jinyoung anywhere?” He asked them, panic rising in his body.

“He didn’t look very well, told me he was going home early. He just left so you might still be able to catch him” They pointed in the direction where Jinyoung had gone and Jaebeom thanked them before running full speed to catch up with Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung!” He shouted out as he saw Jinyoung step into a taxi. The younger hesitated for a moment and Jaebeom waited for him to turn around, but he never did. Jinyoung quietly climbed into the car and drove off, leaving Jaebeom panting on the sidewalk.

[svtxsoju]

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language  ღ Word Count: 4.9k words  ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never  seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath. 

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour. 

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word.  “What are you even doing up?” 

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!” 

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.” 

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering  that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.” 

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks--  a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of. 

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving). 

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it. 

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away. 

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?” 

“A dick. And that’s about it.” 

“Damn you, heterosexuality!” 

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?” 

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for. 

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”  

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”  

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?” 

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!” 

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no  stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?” 

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking. 

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?” 

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist? 

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh. 

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her. 

“What the hell, why are you awake?” 

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much.  “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.” 

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?” 

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter. 

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.” 

① Dear Miss Soju, 

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…” 

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.” 

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend. 

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!” 

 “Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing. 

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?). 

  All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎  ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎  ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me 

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.” 

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!” 

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?” 

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said,  patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!” 

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?” 

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter. 

“Jeonghan hyung!” 

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!” 

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?” 

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…” 

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed. 

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot. 

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.” 

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned,  and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms. 

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all. 

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said. 

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew. 

“At least one of us is doing something right.” 

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?” 

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses.  “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?” 

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!” 

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—” 

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time. 

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.” 

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still,  she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand. 

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.” 

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!” 

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?” 

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied. 

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her. 

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered. 

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good? 

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts. 

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience. 

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that  intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.” 

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.” 

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

[soracities]

Hi! This is so random, but quarantine has made me start reading for fun again... But I'm starting to see that I'm losing my ability to focus and retain what I'm reading? Or I feel like I'm approaching what I'm reading from too much of an academic perspective :( Also, is it normal to find it difficult to visualize descriptions? Often times, descriptions in my head look like collages of stock images (unless I've seen a movie or drawing of the book) or aren't as beautiful as how the words describe.

(cont.) Does that make me dumb? I've always loved reading (and I would consider myself a creative/visual person), but my inability to create these beautiful, cohesive images in my head always makes long descriptions (for example, the opening of East of Eden ) just fly across my head. Also, what are your tips for approaching books with more challenging vocabulary/prose (ex. Lolita -- a book that has been in my TBR list for forever). I hope you are staying safe and healthy! Your blog has inspired me so (2/3) so much. Everything about your blog is just beautiful, and your blog has really helped me get back into the groove of reading and seeing its beauty. Thank you! (3/3)  

I accidentally buried this in my drafts so I’m so so so  sorry for how late this is!

I don’t think lack of focus is uncommon, but I do think it will help if, before anything, you take the time to figure out if it’s mental exhaustion or something mental health related (in which case the best thing to do is to take a break and allow your mind to relax a little--even if that means not reading) or if your attention is compromised because of other things like social media (this happens a lot for me). In any case I think that what might help more if you’re going back into reading is to just pace yourself and ease yourself into the habit by focusing on shorter, lighter works that are a lot easier to read and aren’t likely to trigger a need for analysis or overly in-depth thinking--instead of the big classics and the “Must Reads” (which will always carry some kind of ridiculous pressure) try revisiting your favourite childhood books or others you’ve read previously and enjoyed. You can also venture in YA or graphic novels (I recommend Persepolis!) and make a point of reading a little bit every day -- you don’t need to finish it all in one go, especially if your brain is already taxed enough as it is: the point is to train your mind into a more relaxed state so that it can approach books a lot more openly and eventually you’ll be able to move up to more intense reads. If you find that a lot of the distraction is coming from social media then it may be a good idea to set some kind of schedule for yourself where you limit how much time you spend on it and slowly get your brain re-accustomed to focusing on things that aren’t easily grasped sound-bites.

I think the more difficult books will probably tie into this, too -- challenging reads will definitely require more time and effort and I do think that before you tackle them you should make sure your brain is back in a generally more relaxed place where it can accommodate a more prolonged and intensive approach. I think the main thing is to allow the book in question to set its own rhythm in this instead of imposing a target on yourself for the sake of it that may only increase the pressure and make it harder to get through, which in turn will make it harder for you to retain what you read and may just put you off the process entirely. If it takes you two weeks to get through one chapter then that’s okay--it may only be one chapter, but it will be a chapter you’ve taken your time with and that you’ve read well, whatever that means for you -- and in this regard, I think it counts for more than a book you’ve suffered through and then forget in a week. It may also help to keep a notebook or some post-its with you as you read and jot down any difficult words and take the time to look them up and understand them, or make brief summations for yourself about what has just happened at the end of each section. I think it’s also important to remember that whatever shape your reading takes over this period, the main thing is that you don’t pressure yourself to delve into things if it isn’t the right time. It should remain fun and engaging and what’s important is that, if you are challenging yourself, you do it at the pace that best suits you, whatever it is that you’re able to maintain.

Also in terms of the visuals, I don’t think it makes you dumb at all, and I don’t believe there’s such a thing anyway. Everyone responds and visualizes their reading differently and the only ‘normal’ as such is whatever is normal for you. I’m in the same boat as you for descriptions even though I also learn in a very visual and tactile way, but thinking visually and engaging visually aren’t always the same thing, I don’t think. For me what works best (and I don’t know if this helps you but I hope it will) is that I don’t worry too much about picturing the scene exactly as it’s described and just follow the flow and the rhythm of the sentences instead. Usually, the further along the book goes, the more its environment develops, the more the images build up in my mind by a kind of osmosis through the mood it all creates--it’s a rough and hazy idea but the moods and the characters that arise from the book, as well as the pace of the writing as I read it, seep into that hazy image and fill it out--it all becomes one world, in a way, where all the elements interact with one another and my being able to visualise them then depends entirely on that interaction and not so much the separate elements, if that makes sense. I may not be able to picture the whole landscape exactly as the passages describe it on its own, but I am able to build up snapshots of that river at x point in the plot, or this field at y point in the plot, or that valley as a particular character sits and thinks in it, and because it’s all tied in to the workings of the story itself it makes it a lot easier in a way, and also allows me to relax because I don’t have to worry if I’m “seeing it right”. It becomes less about a consistent and cohesive flow and more about certain sensations in the text that arise moment by moment and they make the story for me.

I know that this is a very particular way of visualising things, and it may not work for you at all, but you can also -- if you’re still struggling -- allow yourself to take some time to sketch out the scene according to the description (or, if it’s a real place, find pictures of it online or through Google Maps). The extra engagement might help to make it a lot clearer for you and might also allow you to remember the scene a lot better because you’re now actively involved in it, even if only a little bit.

All of this feels like a bit of a ramble and I don’t know if it will help you but I hope you find something in it. I wish you all the best, lovely, and I’m so sorry for the delay again x

[colubrina]

So I’ve been trying to start writing for a very long time now with zero results. Could you maybe give me some tips?

Oh, I love giving writing advice, though I admit I always feel like a complete imposter.  Who am I to give writing advice.  But as that would never stop the average dude from spouting off, I shall attempt to be as confident as a mediocre guy and hold forth from my position of dubious authority.

1.  And that’s my first tip.  You have got this.  Embrace indefatigable confidence.  If this thing is not exactly what you want it to be, have no fear because without fail the next thing will be better, because...

2.  Writing is what’s called a complex task.  You have got to hold a lot of things in your brain all at once to do the wording, and when you start, that is going to feel super hard.  There are the basic mechanics of putting a sentence together.  Orthographical conventions (how do you spell it, how do you punctuate it) take getting used to even if you had an excellent English education.  No school program prepares you for the endless comma confusion that you will get writing.  What do you mean some of them are optional but not that one?  Then there are things like story structure, and character arcs, and looking out for filtering language, and filler words, and you still have to tell an interesting story in all of that which people will want to read.  It’s a lot to manage all at once, especially when you are starting.  All of which means...

3.  You get better at it the more you do it, so give yourself a lot of slack as you start because, like I said, you have got this.

More practical tips:

1.  Set yourself a reasonable daily goal based on what you know about your own life.  For some people that is 3,000 words.  For some, it is 100.  It is totally fine to have it be 100, and it is, in fact, better to set a goal that’s easy to reach.  Don’t do the writing version of starting to go to the gym in January where you swear you’ll go for an hour every day after work, and 1 week later you’re exhausted and you hate everything.  I’m not a huge fan of nano for exactly this reason.  I think it sets people who don’t write on a daily basis up for failure, and then they feel crummy.  1300 words a day is a lot of words, especially if you aren’t ‘in shape.’  Don’t do that to yourself.  But 100 is a pretty easy goal.  100 is a paragraph.   If you hit 100 and you are still flowing, you can keep going,  If you’ve ground out 100 and every single one of them hurt, congratulations you made your goal and you can stop while still feeling pleased about your progress.  (Some people swear by time instead of word count.  They’ll sit down and write for 15 minutes with no distractions and if at the end they’re still going then yay.  If not, well, they spent their 15 minutes and it’s all good.)

2.  A lot of writing is figuring out the mental games you need to propel yourself through the tricky bits.  I know that I really like to have first readers who send me their in-real-time responses to chapters that don’t have to be at all critical or thoughtful.  Some people like to see word counts grow up pretty charts.  Some people like playing word count game.  (I’ve never used it, but try 4thewords)  I love drafting, and I love revising, and really the only part of writing I don’t like is trying to publish and getting a sad, sad response.  That said, there are days where words come really quickly, and days where I am slogging through the mud of ‘how do I get this person from point a to point b where she stabs the dude.’  Getting some supports in place for yourself to make those slogging days easier 

3.  Write short things to start.  A 3,000-word one-shot is a much easier goal to hit and finish and post and be pleased about than a long fic.  Don’t bite off more than you can chew for your first project.   Start with something simple.  ‘Draco and Hermione go shopping for a baby crib’ not ‘Draco and Hermione experience a long infertility journey with much emotional trauma that covers 3 years and five of their friends getting pregnant/having kids.  This is a variant of the ‘have small daily goals’ thing of step 1.

4.  There are a gazillion ways to write and everything everyone tells you about how to do it is a lie.  Or, rather, every person can tell you what works for them but not what will work for you.  We can all generalize somewhat, but anytime I answer ‘how to write’ it’s going to be grounded in how I write.   I don’t outline.  Some people outline loosely.  Some people outline in immense detail.  None of these is wrong, but the only way to find out which one works for you is to try them all.  Same as with the ‘what gets you past the slogging bits?’ techniques.  I know what works for me.  You will figure out what works for you via trial and error.  Try outlining first:  it seems to work for more people than my ‘outlining kills it dead’ stuff.  Sometimes I dictate a story as voice to text while walking briskly around a reservoir, making everything think I’m nuts, then clean up the text afterward.  It is a technique worth trying.

tl;dr

To start, outline a short story with a simple plot that can be easily resolved.  Set yourself a short daily goal that will be super easy for your life to accommodate and do it even when you aren’t in the mood.  Find friends who will cheer you on as you share what you’ve written.  Cut yourself some slack when your first story isn’t War and Peace.  Writing is hard.  You’ve got this.

[stusbunker]

Just Make It to Next Time

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Overwhelmed!reader, Dean Winchester and some Sam

A/N: Beka @impala-dreamer asked for some comfort; I don't know if I have ever written it? Here goes nothing! Mental health, drinking, self harm and language warnings. xoxo

*^*^*^

It wasn’t a roller coaster, those go up at some point. This, this was a teeth chattering, stomach purging twenty story drop with the occasional pause; taunting reprieve before taking you down another notch. If there was an end, you hadn’t found it yet, unfortunately your brain had tapped out a while back. Everyone had rough patches, sure, but the past few months had been one train wreck and devastation after another. You needed a vacation, or a lobotomy.

Staring at the screen, you tried to make out what there was to do on the latest pile of shit that had landed on your plate: it seems all you could do was wait. Which was the last thing you had time for. You walked away, passed the pictures on the wall and into the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee. When you saw the time on the microwave you decided to make it Irish.

The label on the bottle caught your eye, taking you back to another lifetime, when you first found comfort in that particular poison.

Tending bar had a way to earn quick cash after high school, your uncle knew the owners and helped you land the job without any experience. In just a matter of months, you learned more about the world than you thought a gap year could teach someone. A hunters’ bar wasn’t always the friendliest working environment, but it was probably the quickest school for a newb you could have asked for.

You don’t remember who had ditched on their shift, but you were running between the store room and the bar all night. You felt grimy and knew your tips were going to be crap because you hadn’t plastered a fake smile on in over an hour; you were too tired for games. A group of four had been purposely asking for the stupidest shit, just to get another eye-full of your ass. Oh well, it was their tab to close, and you were used to it by now.

Suddenly a commotion erupted back by the pool tables, a biker type nose to nose with a cocky guy barely older than you. You reached under the bar for the fire extinguisher when a deep voice broke apart the impeding fight.

“That’s enough, Dean.”

“Yes, sir,” the kid replied, not breaking eye contact from the bald guy who he apparently had just hustled.

“Yeah, that’s right you listen to daddy, kid,” the bald biker taunted.

“I might be a kid, but I still have your cash, cue ball,” he threw over his shoulder, as he followed his father out the side exit.

The rest of the night passed in a blur and you got home smelly and exhausted, free to sleep the day away. The phone woke you just after noon, it was the owner looking for the key to the beer fridge, which of course you had taken home with you. So much for your day off.

The smart ass pool shark was the only customer in sight as you strolled in.

*^*^*^*

Five Years later

“What are we doing here, Dean?” You heard an exasperated voice ask before you turned the corner from the parking lot to your apartment. That big black beauty of a car the confirmation your messages were being answered. You pulled the sleeves of your hoodie down, trying to hide one of the things you had been up to since you last saw Dean.

“Got a tip on a case in town, relax Sammy.”

“Sammy as in the infamous prodigal son?” You sauntered forward, trying to play up the carefree casualness.

The tall kid with a mop of dark hair chuckled nervously, while Dean played up the annoyance. “More like the thorn in my side. Y/N,? Sam. Sam, this is Y/N, best whiskey Old Fashions for three states.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” He gave you a soft wave over the roof of the car.

“What you got for us?” Dean got down to business, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“What do you guys know about skinwalkers?”

Three nights and a handful of minor injuries later, you sat with Dean in the courtyard of your apartment complex. A six pack at your feet and a nearly cloudless sky above you.

“Okay, now that we are passed the impending doom. I gotta ask about the cuts, Y/N. I’m not an idiot, I know how frequent and fresh those are.”

You got through it, barely. The shame and frustration and defensiveness melting into a trail of hot tears that Dean’s thumbs carefully brushed away. You felt dead inside and the pain was the only thing that made any sense anymore. You didn’t want his pity and he wasn’t giving it. He just listened, quiet and sad beside you. It grew cold, but he only held you tighter until you both fell asleep. Only to be woken up by the early morning sprinkler setting.

He left after a very strict agreement that you call him once a week, if you didn’t he would drop what he was doing and check on you. “I’m not kidding, Y/N. You don’t have to be happy, hell, no one is ever really sunshine and beer commercials, but you gotta keep going. Okay?”

“I’m doing my best,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Good. Just keep doing that until next time and I’ll be there to kick your ass again.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I’m serious. You stop calling, I’ll be here in less than a day.”

Sam had been packing the trunk, his jaw jutting out as he tried not to worry at the tone of your conversation. You rolled your eyes at Dean, but threw a half-hearted punch into his shoulder.

“Come here.” He pulled you into a quick hug, “Don’t be your own punching bag, you’re better than that.”

“Look whose talkin’.”

They left with eyes squinted in concern; boys who would be your heroes and sounding boards more often than you asked for. The car taillights a wistful goodbye as always.

*^**^*

Last Year

“Have you seen him?” A question that you never knew could make the world tilt. You had been up anyway, one of the kids were sick, the clock glaring back at you with its hands open; useless and without answers.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Dean’s not Dean right now. If you see him, steer clear and call me immediately.” His tone was fierce and flashes of black eyes sent your stomach rolling.

“What happened?”

“He said yes.”

Michael never came for you, but Dean did. As soon as Sam let him, he called, boisterous and smooth, the cocky pool shark of your past needing a distraction. You told him to meet at your place once you were done for the day. After stopping at the local bakery for a fresh tin of apple pie, Dean and eventually your kids shuffled through the door with growling tummies.

The younger one gave Dean a tour of their latest collection and the oldest a concert. He was appropriately impressed, though his demanding of ‘Free Bird’ was met more with confusion than the rightful annoyance. He helped you wash the dishes while asking about your life. Your phone was constantly buzzing and the kids interrupted every few minutes, which told him more than you could convey.

You apologized, but he brushed it away. He left full and grateful, but you knew he wasn’t alright. Not yet. You called him exactly a week later, but it was a while before he called you back.

*^*^*^

Now

A younger you, Sam and Dean smiled back at you from the picture frame on your wall. The trunk of the Impala your bench as you balanced your feet on their ancient green cooler. This wasn’t life and death, not for you at least. But every other breath felt like too much effort and giving up would be so easy. You stared at the empty coffee mug, wishing you could throw on an extra layer and hit the road. Fall into the life that you had only ever sight-seen.

Maybe you just wanted an excuse to get hurt. A way to break all ties for good, to be the bad guy.

Except they weren’t bad guys, not even when they were at their lowest, Sam and Dean fought to be better and to do the right thing. They didn’t throw in the towel and they certainly wouldn’t forgive themselves if you did. A rueful grin burst over your face at the thought of the look Dean would give you if he heard you had started hunting, had given up on normal. Sam’s puppy dog eyes as he would try to understand, because he would so easily.

You went back to the computer, seeing if you were free from the waiting game or damned to fill your hands with the other things you had yet to do. An hour, two baskets of laundry and three unproductive phone calls later, a knock came at your door.

There he stands, pressed suit making him look like a goddamn GQ cover model. When Dean sees you, the smile stops before it hits his eyes. He always knows. “Hey there, grumpy. Got time for me?”

“Not a chance. Come on in. Sam with you?” You hold the door wide, and he places a scruffy cheek against yours.

“He’s still working, gonna meet up with him later. Maybe grab dinner if you’re free?”

His face falls slightly as he takes in the house; your time spread so thin each room wore a line between cleanliness and chaos. You make detail-less excuses and bring him back for coffee. He raises his mug in solidarity once you share the special ingredient.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom.” You try to steer the conversation towards him. It’s been a disconnected year for all of you.

“Thanks, is it weird to say it wasn’t any easier the second time around?”

“Not to me,” you whisper, hand falling on his while he watches you. His eyes trail up your wrist and over your shoulder, noting any clues he can to your current predicament. Dean did always know how to apply the right amount of pressure.

“How bad is it?” His hand warm and firm in yours.

You hum before sniffing back the stress tears that are perpetually under the surface. “How is it you show up today of all days?”

Dean shrugs, eyes crinkling as he takes another sip. “Maybe it was the case, maybe it was just checking in after so long, but I’m sure glad I went with my gut. Why didn’t you call me? Do we need to go back to that? Every week?”

You huff in amusement, “No, besides, who even knows what day it is anyway?”

“You sure?”

“Nope.”

Dean tosses back the rest of the coffee, puckering those lips that were just too distracting in person. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”

“What? No, I am waiting on like five things and the kids will be home--”

“Look, I’ll give you a hall pass. No one is gonna give you crap if I flash my badge. Let’s go for a drive.”

You got to sit shotgun, you’d never been shotgun before. That big bench seat and all you can do was stare at the driver. Dean revs Baby’s engine and pulls out of your neighborhood, back the way he came. He finds a country road and lets her loose, music blaring and summer breeze floating through the windows. He sings too loud, fingers drumming with that easy smile that coaxes a few out of you as he goes.

The weather is shifting, you feel the wind speed and the pressure drop. It will be gone before you get back home. Before anything can be remedied. This too shall pass, even if it gets darker you are going through it because that is all you can do, even if your heels are still dug in against the forward momentum. You crank the windows closed, watching the fat drops fall.

Sam calls and you take the phone, teasing Dean for everyone’s benefit. He gives you the details of their case, knowing that your brain needs a puzzle like his brother knows your heart needs a break. You give Sam the answer he already knows and he feigns consideration. He was always such a nerd. You wish him luck and promise him you’ll have him over for dinner next time through.

You set down your worries, one at a time until they are behind you like the passing corn fields. You aren’t fixed, but you’re better and that’s more than you had hoped. You look to your old friend, time and guilt have stamped their paths over his face, but so has love and loyalty and life’s little pleasures. He reaches for your hand again, and though you may never be whole, he isn’t asking you to be. He’s just holding you up, until the next time.

*^*

[thatgirlkennedie]

A Darkness Unheard Of

My latest FFXV fic in which I make Prompto suffer some more. 

Rated M: Suggestive themes, Depression, Self-Harm 

Summary: Life is but a misery in Prompto's eyes. Unnecessary really and it's not like he matters to anyone. No one cared about him. Only time will tell if he will get better. It's a long rode for him especially if all he's ever felt was darkness.Or Prompto's journey of a depression episode. (Or read here on AO3)

His sleep was deprived. His thoughts have been haunting him more recently now. Prompto isn't sure why all of a sudden but it's been awhile since he felt this way. Not since a year ago when… he almost, almost… He doesn't want to think about that time of weakness. Now, Prompto never really had an amazing life. His so called parents were too busy for him so he always felt neglected, he had a lot of insecurities and self doubt; Never really feeling highly of himself and he never thought that he truly belonged amongst others. Back then, that bridge was his escape. His sweet release from his life. He had hit such a low point. He felt bad though. Not a lot of people knew about his problems and he hid it so well behind that fake sun-shiny attitude of his. But when he was alone, he'd cry himself to sleep at night and those thoughts would plague him. He was having too many restless nights now. Back on that bridge, a good samaritan talked him out of it. He didn't know who it was but they told him how he was worth something to this world just like all people are; that he should continue living his life to the fullest. That was probably the first time Prompto ever felt like someone actually cared about him. He broke down crying and ended up calling his friends about it. They were all shocked and so worried for him; no one saw this coming. He immediately got help. He couldn't feel so low anymore.

That was a year ago.

He's been good for a while now, or at least for a year now. He was diagnosed with MDD or Major Depressive Disorder as soon as he started seeing a psychotherapist. It's depression in which one is in a state of feeling normal until they go down to major lows. It's a cycle of feeling decently normal to feeling extremely sad; the depressive state. The therapy sessions were good for Prompto and they actually made him feel a lot better. It was a rocky start with him always insisting that he was okay, but soon he was able to open up to his therapist about what his feelings were. Throughout the year, with a lot of one on one talks, group therapy (which was the worse), and a mild dose of antidepressants, Prompto actually felt normal again. No more fake smiles or laughs but genuine happiness. He soon ended the sessions after he felt like he didn't need those anymore but kept up a low dosage of his antidepressants. He never felt so free, so happy. Self healing was what he needed now. The rode to natural recovery was upon him-

It… didn't last long.

Like any other depressive disorder, it never really goes away. It comes back. Some of the time, unfortunately, it tends to come back worse than before. The symptoms hit Prompto all at once. For a few weeks now, he couldn't sleep, eat, or he just felt exhausted. His motivation to get out of bed most days were low and sometimes he didn't get out of bed. The idea of food sickened him. His low dosage of antidepressants weren't working anymore and he's beginning to feel so worthless.

So drained.

So… Sad.

Not the sadness that one feels from upsetting things. This was something more intense that persisted with each passing day. It's distressing and near disabling. He’s only had a negative mindset on things lately. He's cried himself asleep more often than not and ends up laying awake thinking not the best of thoughts. That god forsaken low episode was coming on; making an unwanted appearance once again. He begins to ponder on a world without him in it on those sleepless night. It's not good for him, he knows it, but he thinks the world wouldn't mind losing a person. The world would be better off without him. No… He can't think that, but- that's all he's been thinking as of late.

He's pretending again which probably isn't his best move either. He's gotten too good at the whole ‘fake it until you make it’ attitude. He honestly doesn't want to worry his friends about his mental state. They'll get too worried and he doesn't want to be babied by them or be a burden for that matter. He should have consulted someone or called his therapist again but he believes he'll make it through on his own. He's done it once and he'll do it again. He could get through this.

But…

Prompto feels worse almost. He's dreading each day now and those negative thoughts are cycling through his head constantly telling him how useless he is. Who knew thoughts could be so terrible and detrimental? He feels awful. He feels weak. Worthless. It's been so long since he's been so low and all that self doubt, that he hadn't dealt with in a long time, was back. He began to believe that he truly was an incompetent nobody that will not amount to anything in his life. A mess of hang ups. Those thoughts were degrading him. He wished he could just stop over thinking.

He's trying to control those thoughts, he really is, but he can't. They hurt him too deeply every moment of every day and the emotional toll that comes from them are too much sometimes. It's a constant nag to his conscious that yes, he is worthless. Without resorting to… certain actions and circumstance, he relieves his pain with something else which again, probably isn't a good idea: cutting. Okay, it's a very bad idea but he's become desperate and the thoughts are slowly shrinking his rationale to actually get help again or seek out a friend. Only one cut and he won't do it anymore. Just to calm his thoughts down.

He started cutting more frequently; practically each day now. He just can't seem to shake those nasty thoughts out anymore without a little something to distract him. A little something to take the edge off. That small pocket knife had became his best friend over these few odd weeks turned months. It's almost like a rush goes through him when he makes the first slash to the wrist. The slight physical pain ebbs away his mental pain for the time being. In hindsight, it made him feel better.

Sometimes it doesn't help.

Prompto begins to contemplate his life as a whole and overall, it's always been so shitty. His friends, they don't really need him. No one ever needed him before. He just a waste of space really. So weak, so useless, and he just doesn't know why he's on this earth anymore. No… He can't think this. His mental state is definitely regressing but he doesn't want to admit it. He smiles with his friends all the time or at least tried to. It was becoming harder to do so nowadays. The guys never questioned him about it and Prompto just kept up his facade. They didn't ask if he's okay because they don't know what he's dealing with or, as his brain wants him to think, they simply don't care. No one cared. Those small spikes of anxiety began to flare up. He would clam up when spoken to along with just staying more quiet than he usually was around his friends. That’s when they would jokingly ask why he was so quiet some days and Prompto put on a very forced smile responding that he was just tired. That wasn’t necessarily a lie. He’s been so exhausted as of late and he just couldn’t sleep at all. Not with his thoughts spiraling out of control.

Things… only worsen.

The idea of taking his own life was a thought in which he pondered more on than he should. It’s been so long since he pondered this thought of simply ending all of his pain. The sad part was, that he could do it so easily; so quickly, quietly, and no one would even know, or care for that matter, that he was gone. When one feels so worthless, does living even matter anymore? Prompto doesn’t think so. He trying his hardest not to repeatedly think of the many, quite intriguing, ways he could possibly end his life. He writes these idea down actually in a small notebook and keeps it hidden. If anyone found it, well… they won’t find it. He hides it well just like he hides all of his emotional turmoil.

More weeks go by and Prompto stopped talking to his friends all together; completely closed off. He doesn’t mean to really, completely unintentional, but his anxiousness was through the roof and any sort of communication would put him into panic mode. The whole ‘I’m busy/tired’ excuse wasn’t liable anymore. His friends notice something was different about him but they don't press it. Prompto doesn't know if he should have been glad or sad that they don't. The sense of guilt hangs over him since he hadn’t told his friends about his issues but in true, they wouldn’t care anyways.

Probably one of the more heart wrenching reasons he’s so depressed is dealing with feelings that he knows would not be returned.

An unrequited crush.

It's really stupid but it just pains him even more; eating at his mind persistently. Every time Prompto saw his crush he just felt even worse because he knows the feelings weren't mutual. Why would they be? Who would like someone as fucked up as he was? Who would want someone so worthless, useless, weak- the list goes on but in any rate, no one would like him. If anything, they’d probably treat him as a liability. The prince, after all, would definitely not want to deal with Prompto and his mental problems. They were closer friends than the others and Prompto still believes that Noctis is just pretending to like him. A rational thought would be that Noctis was always there for him when he felt so low. His first episode was easier to go through because Noctis would help him through it while also keeping his spirits up. That rationale was shot. His thoughts were increasingly clouded with unforeseen darkness that could possibly never be fixed. He would never truly see the light of happiness.

The many times Noctis would call him, he’d put on his rehearsed, happy voice and say all was good. He’s acting avoidant. Another reason to feel guilty because he wants to think that Noctis is worried about him and yet, he doesn’t explicitly voice his concern. Or, maybe Noctis just isn’t interested in him. He believes that the latter is the honest truth. They haven’t hung out in a long time and Noctis brings it up that maybe they should do just that. Prompto is hesitant at this. His blundering mind comes up with only negative outcomes one after the other and Prompto almost denied the request. Getting out of bed was too difficult enough as it is but he goes along with it anyways regardless.

Even when it’s just him and Noctis, his emotions are going haywire. He hides it though. He’ll smile and even keep up regular conversation but his mind repeatedly tells him that he’s nothing more than an inconvenience. It wasn’t a smart thing to do but when Noctis left to go to the bathroom, Prompto took the time to do just one small cut. It’s quick, a bit painful, but it calmed him down. The blood flowed down his arm slowly, intriguing. He had to clean it before Noctis got back even if it was interesting to watch. It’s a sick, twisted, ideology. It made Prompto want to cut more but he can’t, not right now at least. He patched his arm up and retrieved a jacket to cover all the scars he had scattered up his arm. Noctis returns and Prompto pretends that nothing ever happened; Just like how he's been pretending on everything recently; His smiles and laughs, it's all false emotions.

His heart begins to ache. He so much wanted to tell Noctis that he’s been pining for him for years now but a las, Noctis would probably think he’s joking or even laugh in his face about it. He keeps it to himself nonetheless. When their hang out session was done, Noctis leaves with a reassuring smile and a comment that he’d always be there for Prompto. That Prompto could tell him anything. The blonde forced a smile and nodded his head in response, but Noctis just had to make one small comment that made Prompto’s heart shatter.

“I'll always be there for you. You’ll always be my best friend. Don’t ever think otherwise.” Noctis spoke gently and Prompto had to hold it together until he finally left.

He screams.

He crumbles to his knees onto the floor, crying out his unwanted feelings. This was what true pain felt like. He doesn’t take that comment lightly and it only rang even louder in his head. Just a friend… Nothing else. He doesn't realize it, but he's taking those words too seriously. He's overreacting but his brain makes him think that Noctis doesn't like him at all. Shouldn’t he be ecstatic that Noctis saw him as a friend at all? He should, but his feelings just left him heartbroken. Noctis hates him. He clutched his chest as if he had a hold of his heart; it hurt so much. His crush was just that, unrequited. He doesn’t know why but this revelation was setting him off so much. This only made him feel more worthless, useless; a liability . If Noctis didn't care for him, who else would actually care for him? His whole body began to ache. Physical pain, emotional pain; he wanted it all to stop. He's self-destructing; completely shutting down. He let's out another scream. He couldn’t take this anymore.

He couldn't live like this anymore.

Prompto never knew comprising a note such as this would be something so difficult to do but he had to do it. He had a lot of people to thank and commend along with a few special thanks. He feels bad because his parents don’t even know anything about his mentality since they were so busy but they neglected him nonetheless so it’s not like they’d care. Again, no one cared which was why he had to do this. He waited a while. What he was going to do had to be commenced in the late hours of the night so no one could see him. He packs a small bag that held his camera full of memories, his personal notebook, and a single note for Noctis’s eyes only. It was just about the right time to leave. He says one last goodbye to his apartment before heading out his door. His strides to his destination were slow, almost as if apart of him is trying to prevent himself from doing this but the major part of him screams that yes, this was the only answer to all his troubles. Why deal with your pain when you can just stop it all completely? Prompto was about to have no more troubles, no more pain or intrusive thoughts. He will finally see the light.

He sits looking out over the quiet city. A little over a year has passed and he was back at this same spot; The Insomnia Bridge. It’s his safe place, or as it should be noted as, the place that’ll be the cause of his fateful death. No one was around and it proved to be the right time. He won’t be talked out of this. He sits close to the edge and looks down. He winced because the bridge was extremely high up but he puts on a sad smile. It was perfect. He closes his eyes just to bask in the cool air around him. It’s quiet, tranquil even, but Prompto was far from feeling anything close to serenity.

He isn’t sure why he hasn’t jumped yet. He doesn’t want to psyche himself out but he still has that small part in him that faintly tells him that this was wrong. That thought alone was nowhere near as overpowering as the thoughts that were engraved into him already. It'll be so quick just to jump. He resisting though and he doesn't know why. Maybe that small thought was more overpowering than he thought. It tells him that he should go see Noctis. It's funny because Prompto knew Noctis wouldn't get up to see him; definitely not at this hour.

He humored that thought. He thinks it as a one-last-time to say goodbye to Noctis officially. Maybe he'll just slip the letter under his door and walk back. There's no stopping his motive tonight. Prompto reluctantly goes to Noctis’s house. He unaware of the time but knew it had to be very late. He can't believe this would be the first time, in a long time, that Noctis would see the person Prompto has been hiding from him, from everyone. The person Prompto had become. Upon actually reaching Noctis’s house, overwhelming dread spread all over him. Why was he here when he could have just been gone already? He rang the doorbell nonetheless and waited before knocking on the door. A few minutes go by and he soon accepted that Noctis won't come to him. He makes it an incentive; if Noctis doesn't come, it's all the more reason for him to go back to the bridge. Remember, Noctis doesn't like him.

He waits a bit longer before he deemed it not worth waiting any longer and began to walk away. He freezes when he hears the door beginning to open and he turns back around tentatively with his head hanging low.

4:17am was the time on the clock when the doorbell rang loudly throughout Noctis’s apartment. Noctis tossed and turned in his bed trying to ignore it but it rang again. He hates getting woken up at all let alone in the middle of the fucking night. He honestly hoped that whoever the fuck was there would leave. It's quiet for a while before his door was being knocked on. Who would be up at this hour and why did they have to come and bother him? He shuffled out of bed, threw on a shirt, and headed towards the door. This better be fucking important if this person really was at his apartment at this hour. He reached the door and looked through the peephole. It was night obviously so it was hard to see who it was and it didn't help since this person was wearing a dark colored hoodie that covered their head. He thinks for a moment that what if this was a burglar? He pushed the thought aside simply because a burglar would probably just break in instead of knocking on his door. Well, unless he was being baited. Nevertheless, he sighs and finally, slowly opens his door.

Noctis is met with blue eyes briefly that immediately looked down and a bit of blonde hair can be seen out the hood. This man was slouching, hands in his pockets looking down.

“P-prompto? Why the hell are you here so late dude?” Yeah it was Prompto. It sucked because now it's almost 4:30am and Noctis really wanted to go back to bed. The yawn was a dead give away on how tired he was.

“C-can I come in?” Prompto asked and his voice was small, almost strained; distant. Now Noctis wanted to say no but it's his best friend and he seemed a bit off from when they hung out recently that day.

“Uh yeah sure…” He said reluctantly with a sigh and gestured for Prompto to come in. Prompto stepped in and Noctis closed the door and turned on the lights. Prompto walked in, with his backpack on, towards the couch with his head still hanging low and sat on it laying his head in his lap. This was a bit weird for Noctis. Was Prompto just going to sleep here? Why didn't he call and ask to come over and why come so late of all times? Prompto's apartment wasn't that far from his place. About a 20 minute walk which never bothered Prompto before. Noctis wondered why he didn't just walk home. The air seems so thin and way too quiet. Prompto is never this quiet. Their early hang out seemed fine, fun even, so why was Prompto so… silent? He even ensured the blonde that he would always be there for him. Moreover, Prompto just seemed… different; more reclusive. Noctis sat down next to Prompto and let out a long sigh that may have sound more annoyed than intended.

“Hey so dude, why are you here? You're welcome anytime but… It's almost 4:30am. Not the most ideal time to drop by.” He tried to joke but the atmosphere still felt stale. Prompto remained silent. He didn't even budge from his position. Noctis began to feel a bit worried and uneasy. Why was Prompto acting so strangely? Noctis decided to pry at him.

“Hey are you… okay? Did something happen? You're usually smiling and joking about something ridiculous.” Another lighthearted joke and Prompto still didn't move. Noctis placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder and he felt him tense up immediately. Prompto soon looked up at him and- he looked… different. His skin was pale, too pale. Noctis got a better look at him and noticed that his eyes were glossy, empty looking; It almost looked like he was crying recently.

“Prompto you have to talk to me. What happened? Are you okay?” Noctis said this time more seriously. The air was suffocating and he just wanted Prompto to say something, anything. Prompto let out a weak sigh and sat up so his elbows were on his knees. He shook his head slowly, giving a weak, sad smile.

“I-I’m… just so, totally fine…” His voice cracked the slightest in a whisper tone. Definitely not fine at all. That statement cut through Noctis and something clicked inside him. Prompto was in one of those mindsets. It's been a long time since Prompto was like this. Noctis knew of his depression and he did everything he could to make sure he was happy and okay when those dark thoughts resurfaced full forced.

Usually Prompto was a happy person or at least tries to be happy. It's been a little over  a year since Prompto's last episode and at that time he wasn't at his best. He shut himself out from everyone including Noctis at one point, but Noctis continued to help him. Probably the worse thing Noctis ever had to hear able was getting a call from Prompto himself telling him that he almost killed himself by jumping off the bridge. Noctis had never felt so bad for not seeing the signs even more. Prompto got immediate help and since then, things were good. Or at least Noctis believed things were good.

About a few months back, Prompto stopped seeing his therapist since he actually felt good. He still took his medication though out of precaucion. He felt like he was finally, genuinely happy again, and he was. Noctis knew when he was faking it and over the past few months, he seemed actually happy. Now though, Prompto was just like he was a year ago. As Noctis thinks about it, Prompto did seem a bit avoidant when they hung out earlier; Even so with all of his friends. Fuck, how long has Prompto been like this?

“Talk to me.” Noctis spoke. Prompto let out a short laugh. Noctis couldn't possibly care about him. He felt near psychotic right now. He wants to laugh at this whole bitter situation. He looked towards Noctis straight into those blue eyes of his. Prompto always loved those eyes. Those eyes alone, when looking in his direction, would make him swoon but now those eyes, in which Prompto thinks, are filled with unmistakably pity. He doesn't want Noctis’s pity.

Is it worth telling Noctis that this would be the last time he'll see him or should he keep it as a fucked up surprise? Telling him straight away would probably cause major problems and Prompto, again, won't be stopped this time. He honestly doesn't want to deal with this. Noctis does looked highly concerned about him but Prompto waves it off. Again, it has to be pity. Noctis thinks you're a liability . That phrases pounded in his head. Prompto let's out another weak sigh and cracked a forced smile.

“The Insomnia Bridge is beautiful at night, ya know? It's pretty high up. Looking down… It's memorizing. The concrete looked especially… impenetrable tonight.” He paused and saw Noctis’s expression shift from mock concern to mock surprise. He laughs at this change.

“Prompto-”

“Don't even pretend that you care. After all, I'm just your ‘best friend and nothing more’, right? Even then you were pretending. Everyone has been pretending to care!” Prompto interrupted with a heightened voice. There was a hint of anger there. He wasn't exactly sure why he was angry. His emotions were just running everywhere now. Definitely something due to his psychosis. Noctis had placed both of his hands onto his shoulders firmly and began shaking him.

“What the hell? Prompto I care about you so much. Why would you even think-” His question was cut off by yet another sad laugh.

“Pity. I don't want it from you. I just wanted to say goodbye is all.” He began and saw Noctis’s eyes grow wide. “I think I've spent enough time here…” He spoke and shrugged Noctis’s hands off his shoulders. Noctis, himself, was paralyzed in disbelief. Prompto was… suicidal again? When had this all started? Why hadn't Prompto talk to him about how he felt? Noctis especially felt bad because he could never tell. Even earlier today seemed nice but, as Noctis now notes, it was a ruse. Prompto began to stand up and Noctis immediately grabbed him. The blonde retracted his arm and made haste towards the door. He had to get out of here. Noctis immediately tackled him to the ground causing Prompto to scream and struggle.

“Please calm down. Everything is okay.” Noctis voiced slowly, soothingly, but Prompto continued to struggle.

“N-no! Get off me! I c-can’t live like this anymore! You don't care. No one ever cared!” He screamed out. “Th-the bridge… I have to go back…” He's becoming more hysterical. He's crying because he's in so much pain and laughing sadly because it's hilarious hearing Noctis sound like he cares. Noctis had a strong grip on him. His own mind was racing too fast with this situation. Prompto was not in the right mind at all.

“Prompto listen to me. There's so many people who care for you.” Noctis began and Prompto just shook his head.

“It's a lie. I'm worthless, I'm useless… Just a waste of space. Nothing more than a fucking inconvenience. The world is better off without me.” He stated. Noctis couldn't believe this. Prompto has grown worse to his condition right under Noctis’s eyes. Noctis kept him pinned down but the blonde continued to squirm. He's never heard Prompto sound so broken; so deprived of self-worth that he'd take his own life. He can't let Prompto do that. He can't let Prompto go.

“Prompto, listen to me. You aren't none of those things. You are so special to me.” He tries to get through to Prompto but the struggle was only getting harder.

“Please don't…. D-don't say that to me. I know what I am; y-you don't have to lie. Why won't you j-just let me go? I'm better off not being in a world I'm not wanted in. I'm better off dead!” Prompto only cried and struggled harder but Noctis had a firm grasp on him.

“Prompto… I can't. I can't have you walking away to your end. I can't watch someone so close to me, so important to me end their life. You mean so much to me and-

“Fuck you! I don't want to hear this! If you were really my friend, you'd let me go! Don't you want me to not be in agony anymore? My heart hurts Noct… Everything hurts so damn much and I-I can't deal with this pain anymore. Quit making me suffer!” Noctis was so baffled by all of this. Seeing Prompto teetering so low on the spectrum of depression was worse than Noctis could ever imagine. He's never seen Prompto so sad, so uncaring about anything let alone his own life. Prompto needed help and Noctis was going to be the first step towards helping him.

“Prompto, you're my best friend. And… and I like you so much more than that. I want you to believe me. You're everything to me. I've liked you for so long and I want you to know that. I truly care for you and everyone else does too. P-please… please don't take your life. I need you so much.” Noctis was pleading with tears streaking down his face.

Prompto’s struggle slowly subsided.

In true, he was exhausted right now. It was already late plus all his struggling just made him wear himself out. He couldn't put up a fight anymore but… He feels a little different. He couldn't fathom it but part of him, that was becoming more prominent now, was telling him that Noctis was telling the truth. It's been so long since he had an actual good thought cross his mind. It's too good to be true. He so much wanted to shove the thought aside deeming it false but it rings in his head. Was it true? Did Noctis… actually like him? The phrases ‘Just and friend’ and ‘He likes you more than that’ cycle through his head. The latter was growing stronger.

Realization hits him. It hits him that he was making a terrible mistake. His actions were unjustified. It's hard though. His brain is so fucked up that even he doesn't know what he could have done. He began to sob softly; body going completely slack. Noctis was skeptical but he soon released him. When he met no resistance, he sat up and brought Prompto into a hug which only made him cry harder.

“I… I-I’m sc-scared Noctis.” He spoke broken through his sobs. Noctis only held him tighter.

“It's okay I got you. I will always be here for you.” Noctis said softly and Prompto actually hugged him back.

“It's… so, s-so h-hard to b-believe you.” Prompto spoke softly through his tears.

“Please believe me. I like you too much to see you do something so damaging. My life would be incomplete without you. I want you to know that. I want you to believe me.” Noctis reassured him and that just made Prompto cry even harder.

It's been awhile since Prompto felt like this . He feels his mind increasingly easing from his usual doubtful thoughts. His thoughts are more gentle to him right now. He was beginning to believe Noctis’s words and that makes his heart swell. He was… liked. Prompto never knew anyone could like him but seeing Noctis; hearing Noctis say how his own life would be incomplete without him was a nice realization. It makes him smile even and it's the first time in a long time it's not fake.

“I'm s-so sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm gonna make some calls in the morning for you. I'm going to be there with you every step of the way through to help you. I'm not going to let you get so low again. I will be by your side in this. Always.” Noctis said serenely. He pulls back from the hug to let out a yawn and Prompto does another thing he hadn't done in a long time, genuinely at least; Laugh.

“Sorry for waking you and keeping you up so late with… all of this.” Prompto stated but Noctis waved him off.

“Don't be. You had a lot on your mind and wasn't in the right state of mind. Your wellbeing is more important.” Noctis began and stood them both up. “Let's go to bed. I'd put you in the guest room but… I kinda wanna watch you so I'd like you to sleep with me.” Noctis rushed the last part out and a small blushed formed on his face.

“I… I get it. It's fine.” Prompto accepted and they soon retire to Noctis’s room.

Prompto feels sleep come upon him easier than usual. It's been ages since the last time he had a decent night of sleep. His thoughts aren't intrusive or awful and he falls asleep fairly quickly. He was finally at peace. The greatest feeling ever was the feeling of mutual attraction between him and Noctis. Coming here was the right decision after all.

Noctis is still shaken up by everything. He puts some blame on himself for Prompto’s conditions only because he should have known. He was really going to watch over him from now on. He doesn't want to see Prompto like that any more, ever again. It's unintentionally but Noctis wrapped his arms around Prompto. It's… safety reasons really but he feels Prompto lean into a bit more which makes him smile. Noctis ponders on the time and yeah, it's was almost 6am and he was so tired. It crosses his mind about a scenario in which he didn't get up to his doorbell or knocks. He definitely didn't want to think about that outcome; it's too painful to think about. He's glad he got up though. He may have lost some sleep but he's even more happy that he didn't lose someone so special to him.

He saved Prompto’s life.

Waking up and not feeling Prompto next to him sent Noctis into full panic. He shoots out of bed, scanning his room for any signs of the blonde. He let's out a sigh of relief. The shower was running. He was still worried though and it showed when he went to the bathroom door. He knocked on the door and hear Prompto respond with a ‘Yeah?’ and Noctis smiled. Good, Prompto was actually still here. Noctis went back to his bed deciding he'd wait for Prompto to make the calls. He noticed the bag Prompto had brought with him last night. Now, Noctis shouldn't be snooping but he feels like he had to see what Prompto was bringing to his death.

He opens the bag revealing only a few items. His camera, a notebook, and an envelop with Noctis’s name written on it. Noctis goes for the notebook first and scans through each page in horror. There were… very descriptive and disturbing things written in here. It looked like it started as a diary that slowly morphed into various ways of death in general to ways of killing himself. It's… terrible to say the least. The last few pages had the word ‘Bridge’ written on them with the last two pages being a complete suicide note. It pains Noctis to read this. Prompto had been going through so much turmoil and seeing it written only made it more real. These were Prompto’s true feelings. Depression in a nutshell.

The camera, Noctis figures, is just old photos that Prompto had taken. Old memories that, at one point, Prompto would have never saw again. Noctis instead goes to the envelop addressed to him. He opens it slowly. It's a lengthy note but Noctis begins to read it carefully.

Hey Noct. So, this is really hard for me to do but there isn't anything else I can do. You're probably confused but by the time you read this, I'm gone from this world. I've finally ended my agony. My body will lay at the bottom of the Insomnia Bridge until someone finds it. Most likely tomorrow morning. You're probably asking yourself, why did I do it? Well it's not as hard to explain as you think. It's simply, I hated myself so much. I was nothing to this world and no one cared about me. I went each passing day pretending that I was okay and I never was. I've spent so many months being sad. I wanted to tell you and the guys about my problems but I knew you guys didn't care about me either. I didn't want your pity, even more, I didn't want you guys to laugh in my face at how pathetic I was. I am pathetic aren't I?

Now I know you don't care but I should let you know a secret I've been keeping. I liked you. Actually as I write this, I might as well say that I loved you. I loved you so much. I've been pinning for you for years and hid my feelings away from you. It's a waste telling you now since I'll never know how you feel. Well I could take a guess. You probably feel nothing for me. I can't believe you've been pretending to be my friend to make me feel better. Jerk move dude. But it's fine because now I'm out of your way. Apart of me wanted to think that you did like me back but I know that's far fetched. You wouldn't want someone like me, I'd just ruin your life with my problems anyways. A prince doesn't need someone so broken like me.

I guess I should say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being strong enough to handle this but it's gotten so difficult that I can't live in this cycle of pain and suffering anymore. I love you Noctis and I always will.

Until we meet again,

-Prompto

Noctis was so completely rattled by this that he begins to cry. He still can't believe Prompto had been feeling this way for so long without his knowledge. Prompto was so close to killing himself and Noctis wouldn't be able to get through his own days without him. Noctis couldn't even think about a life with Prompto not present in it. It pains him. He doesn't want Prompto to ever feel like he's worthless or anything bad ever again.

“Oh y-you found my note…” Noctis jumped at the voice. He looks up and immediately spots Prompto with a towel around his waist. His arms… Noctis sees the scars that littered up both of Prompto’s forearm. His expression change to exasperation upon seeing those faint, some recent, scars. Prompto flinches at the look and quickly grabs one of Noctis’s shirts and sweats retreating back to the bathroom. Noctis sighs and puts the note down and waits. Prompto comes back with clothes on, slowly making his way toward the bed and sits down. He doesn't speak at first and Noctis didn't give him the liberty to.

“I'm sorry for snooping through your bag. I just-” Prompto cut him off.

“It's fine… I… I'm sorry for everything. I've never felt so… so low. Last time this happened, I was talked out of not jumping so easily. This time… I don't think I would have been. I-I was just gonna slide the note under your door and… well…” Prompto looked away. He feels weak right now but he knows Noctis has some care for him, or at least he wants to believe him. It's a finicky situation. Noctis hugs him immediately.

“I'm so happy you didn't jump. I meant everything I said. People care about you so much. Your parents, your friends, me; We all care for you. Always remember that you're liked and that you're worth something to this world.” Noctis held him tightly. He feels Prompto choke out a sob.

“I can't believe I did this again. If I-I didn't come here… I… I…-”

“Shhhhh everything's fine now. You're still here and I'm going to help you. I do want you to promise me something.” Noctis pulls back from the hug to look into Prompto’s watery eyes. “Promise me if you ever get this low or feel unwanted, please talk to me. Don't ever think I won't listen.”

“I'll… try. It's s-so hard to talk about my feelings when I think everyone is against me. But… I feel better knowing that you'll listen to me.” Prompto paused and let out a sigh. “I… meant everything in that letter. It's morbid at first but… it's all true. My thoughts, my pain, and… my love for you. It might seem like a moment of weakness, but I've loved you for so long. You don't have to love me back but it's good to get that off my chest. Being your friend is enough.” Prompto gave him a sad smile. He's starting to feel a bit better the more he hears Noctis’s sincere words. Noctis said he liked him but even then it hard to believe it, but Prompto is actually okay with that. He's content with just being his friend. Noctis eyes widen at the words before he pulled Prompto in for another hug.

“I never really thought about my feelings towards you. I know, for sure, I really like you more than a friend and with everything that just transpired, I could not live without you. I… I feel the same way as you do about me.  Believe me when I say this: I love you too Prompto.” Prompto’s eyes widens at the words. His emotions were still heightened. The happiness he feels is overwhelming almost just because he's hasn't been happy in a very long time. What he does in response to those words is an impulse but he hoped Noctis wouldn't change his mind about him.

He kissed him briefly.

He pulled back almost immediately because it's probably not the right time to do this. He's blushing and stammering out an apology only to be silenced by Noctis’s lips. It's a sweet, short kiss; One that Prompto had never thought would happen to him. They pull back from each other both blushing. Prompto gives Noctis the warmest genuine smile he's ever seen.

“Thank you for everything.” Prompto said softly as he brought Noctis back in for a hug. They stay like this for a while. Neither of them wanted to ruin this moment. Prompto has never felt so warm and fuzzy like this, not with his dark thoughts but now, the darkness that had clouded his thoughts were slowly drifting away little by little. He knows it won't be an easy journey to go on but he will do what he can to be and stay truly happy. Noctis would be right by his side.

Prompto had always thought that his life would only be covered in a shadow of sadness but he now feels like there is something to live for especially with Noctis being with him. Things will only get better from here. He's glad he came here last night.

Noctis was the light he needed in his life.

[neurodiversitysci]

An inside view of ADHD: What your doctor probably didn’t tell you

This started life as a more accessible version of my ADHD list for writers, and turned into a two-part series. That’s how ADHD works sometimes. 

This is part 2.

1. ADHD is an executive function disability.

Executive function is hard to define, even for researchers. However, all agree it’s a set of skills that let us control our behavior and respond flexibly to a changing environment. Executive function skills include:

Executive functions are like the conductor in an orchestra, while the different parts of our brains are the musicians. 

Each musician in the orchestra plays beautifully alone. But to sound good when playing together, they need a conductor. The conductor keeps them playing with the same timing and the same style.

Similarly, each part of our brain functions pretty well independently. But when we need to do a new or complex task, we need multiple parts to work together with the right timing. To do that, we need executive functions.

2. We may have a distinctive way of thinking and talking.

People with ADHD might think in a web instead of a straight line. Here’s a blog post that illustrates the difference.

Each connection between ideas is logical, but because we zigzag through it, our train of thought looks disorganized to people without ADHD who do not share our “mental map” of the world. 

We move through our mental web through associations. 

A stray thought, another person’s words, or something we see or hear can remind us of something else. Because we’re easily distracted, we often go off on tangents. Because we have poor short term memory, we then forget what we were talking about previously.

We also talk fast, trying to pack all the necessary background information in our web into the shortest amount of time, before people get impatient.

As a result, when we talk to people without ADHD, both people often get frustrated.

But before you blame yourself and apologize for the communication problem, know that nothing is smoother and more energizing than a conversation between people with ADHD who think this way!

It feels exhilarating, and the energy builds increasingly as we talk. Everything the other person says makes perfect sense. We can go on for hours and never run out of things to say (or return to the topic we started with). We can finally be ourselves and talk comfortably, without worrying about irritating or confusing the other person.

Another positive to our thinking style: it’s ideal for “divergent thinking,” for making creative associations that wouldn’t occur to most people.

Priti Shah’s research team finds that ADHD adults excel at certain types of divergent thinking, which can help them outperform neurotypicals on both creativity tests and real-world creative achievement.

3. ADHD is a production disability, not a learning disability.

Because we think in a non-linear fashion, it’s harder and more time-consuming to explain our thoughts to other people. You first have to figure out what to say (and what not to), and put it in an order other people will understand, before you can speak or write.

If the inside of your head looked like this, you’d have trouble communicating your thoughts, too!

That means that deadlines are a lot harder for us to meet, even if we can remember them (a big if!).

ADHD is often categorized as a learning disability in education systems, but that’s a mistake. Many of us have no difficulty getting information into our brains. Our difficulty is with production: expressing what we know by a deadline, in the correct format. 

Some consequences of this:

1) A person with ADHD may well be brilliant in class discussions and in-class quizzes, but perform poorly on long-term papers and presentations. It’s because of how our brain works, not because of the amount of effort we put in!

2) For a person with ADHD, the content of schoolwork is easy, and if we turn it in on time we’ll get an A. But turning it in is harder than the homework itself. 

3) As a result, we have an all or nothing pattern of achievement. We either ace or fail assignments depending on whether we manage to turn them in on time and format them correctly.

 4) We also have all or nothing effort. There’s no way to gradate effort because if we put less effort in, we won’t finish and turn in the assignment at all. People often say “just do the minimum,” but that doesn’t work for us.

4. What other people think is “hard” is often easy for us, and what they think is “easy” is often hard.

Homework isn’t the only case where the “hard” part is easy for us, and the “easy part” is hard.

Free to Be says:

I have difficulty with some of the boring paper shuffling tasks but am really good at creating websites, brainstorming, creating presentations and new systems. Does anyone out there feel that people treat you as less intelligent because we have difficulty with simple tasks?

I wrote a post discussing “the complex is simple, the simple is complex” phenomenon here.

5. Boredom is torture, and we get bored REALLY easily.

Boredom feels like Chinese water torture. Every second is a drop of water.

Boredom feels like being in a sensory deprivation tank. You feel like you’re going crazy.

All of us find boredom more painful than the average person. But we vary in how often we experience boredom, and how we deal with it.

Some are constantly bored, and highly aware of their search for stimulation. Others, like me, think they’re never bored, because they always keep themselves occupied. 

In my youth, I always carried a book to read and a sketchbook to write in, and I’d read even while crossing the street. At the breakfast table, if conversation was impossible, I would read the cereal box.

Only when I started learning to cook did I realize that I can get bored and desperate to wander off within less than 30 seconds.

6. We often have bad memory.

I’m not sure why, but people with ADHD often have a bad memory.

In particular, our memories aren’t useful or deliberate. That is, we can remember random details from our childhood or trivia about our interests. But we have trouble remembering what we did on a particular day, when someone’s birthday is, or even our own phone number.

Poor working memory is common, and linked to lower brain activity than neurotypicals in the frontal lobe.

Having a bad memory affects more than academics:

We might be constantly writing things down.

We might worry about how to organize this record of our lives, and what would happen if it were destroyed in a natural disaster.

We might worry about whether anything we experience is “real” or meaningful if we’re almost guaranteed to forget it.

7. We have especially bad prospective memory, which is remembering to remember.

One of my most frustrating ADHD difficulties is my failure to “remember to remember.”

Without extensive strategies to remind myself, I remember errands I need to run at times I can’t do them, and forget about them when I can.

When I was a kid, my mom tried to teach me the strategy of “when you’re angry, count to 10 before you do anything.” I couldn’t use the strategy because when I was actually angry, I wouldn’t remember the strategy existed. 

Thus, we ironically forget to take stimulant medication for the very reasons we need it in the first place!

8. A double bind: We need habits to function, but have trouble making them.

Because we can’t “remember to remember,” we have trouble making new habits. We can’t consistently remember the habit at the time we’re supposed to do it.

That’s a problem because habits make everything easier for us. 

When tasks are automatic, we don’t have to make decisions and use executive functions--the things people with ADHD struggle with most.

9. We can’t process visual clutter well.

In everyday terms, “visual clutter” is when there’s so many objects with so many colors, textures, and shapes that all your brain stops seeing any of the things. All it sees is an undifferentiated mass of “stuff.”

Researchers have a slightly different definition of clutter, measuring small decreases in response time and accuracy rather than the experience of “objects turning into a mass of stuff.” But they find that neurotypicals have trouble processing visual clutter, too.

People with ADHD just have more difficulty processing clutter in everyday life, produce more of it, and have more difficulty cleaning it up.

 10. It’s hard to remind ourselves to do things without creating visual clutter.

Some people mistakenly think putting post-its everywhere will solve our “remembering to remember” problems--even people with ADHD.

But too many post-its become visual clutter.

We might stop looking at them to protect ourselves from being overwhelmed.

Or, we might be so overloaded by clutter that we look right at them and don’t register their existence.

Visual clutter paradoxes apply to more than just post-it notes.

If objects in my home aren’t visible, I forget that they exist. They don’t even need to be in the back of a closet; they can be in an opaque drawer or even a shelf I don’t use all the time. I even forget about food in the back of the refrigerator sometimes.

So, you would think I need to make all my things visible. But then I still can’t see them, because they just look like clutter.

(You would think the solution would be to get rid of most of my stuff. But the decisions involved would take hours and leave me exhausted. Remember, clutter is just un-made decisions).

11. Organizing our lives is harder for us than for most people because we keep running into double binds.

We’ve just discussed some double binds people with ADHD run into when they try to organize themselves:

We need habits, but have trouble making them.

We need visual reminders, but too many of them just turns into clutter we can’t process.

We only remember what we own if it’s visible, but we can’t process any of our things if too many are visible.

We need to own few objects so as to avoid clutter, but it takes a difficult, exhausting amount of executive function to get rid of extra stuff.

As a result:

We often put huge amounts of effort into making our time and space organized, and still fail.

Most ADHD adults research, invent, and tinker with organizational systems our whole lives. Most don’t work because of these double binds, and we keep changing or replacing them. This can look, or be, inefficient. 

Well-meaning advice from well-meaning friends, family, and coworkers doesn’t work and leaves everyone frustrated. 

Even advice from professional organizers and life coaches might not work well if they aren’t trained in dealing with the double binds created by ADHD.

12. Look at both extremes.

Some of us can multitask well, but are terrible at focusing on one thing. Some, like me, are the opposite.

Some of us feel stifled by structure, while others, like me, try to plan everything in advance. The first type of person fits many people’s stereotypes of ADHD people as “spontaneous” and “disorganized.” But because of ADHD, I rely on routines and schedules to function.

Some of us have IQ in the “gifted range” (top 2% or so), while others have low IQ and severe developmental delays (children who are born prematurely, get lead poisoning, or have fetal alcohol syndrome often have ADHD).

Some of us can see the big picture brilliantly, but miss many important details. Others focus intensely on the details but lose the big picture. Others, like me, can do either, but not both at once.

Some of us are artists, some are scientists, some are both.

We can be the best students or the worst.

We can be social butterflies or socially awkward penguins.

13. We’re consistently inconsistent.

Our functioning is inconsistent from day to day and even moment to moment. Not surprisingly, we fear that others will fire us or reject us because we’re unreliable. 

But also, we may feel that we can’t rely on ourselves. This diminishes our confidence, motivation, and self-esteem. 

If we feel unable to rely on ourselves, we might feel that we have to rely on other people. We might resent our dependence, and fear that if we mess up one too many times, they will leave us.

Research calls our inconsistency “intra-individual variability.” Ironically, they find that inconsistency ranks among the most consistently observed ADHD traits.

14. When life gets hard, we can stop being able to do things we “know how” to do.

When our lives are going well and the people in our lives support us, we often function well in school, at work, and in our relationships. Some of us do so well that our ADHD is invisible.

But when difficult life transitions happen, some of us seem to suddenly fall apart. I call this “hitting the wall,” and Laurie Dupar calls it a “tipping point.”

Basically, we can no longer compensate for our disabilities, because we no longer have the time or energy to use the strategies that worked for us in the past. In fact, our old strategies might even be counterproductive. Our ADHD traits become more obvious, and we stop being able to do things we could before.

Common tipping points include: 

going to college

being promoted at work

marrying

having a baby

going through menopause.

ADHD can turn even the joyous milestones of life into a struggle.

15. Many of us develop anxiety.

More than half of us develop anxiety.

We’re prone to overthinking, and may have trouble controlling our thoughts.

We have to worry about others misunderstanding us and calling us lazy, stupid, flaky, or rude.

We are inconsistent, and worry about the effects on ourselves and others.

Some of us develop an exhausting habit of “constant vigilance” to avoid making ADHD mistakes like losing things, forgetting belongings, running late, math/writing errors, etc.

16. We usually have other conditions along with ADHD.

People with ADHD are more likely to...

Have other developmental disabilities, such as autism.

Have learning disabilities, such as dyslexia, dyscaluclia, or nonverbal learning disability.

Have difficulties with sensory and motor processing, such as sensory processing disorder and dyspraxia.

Develop mental illnesses, including depression, anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, and bipolar disorder.

Have certain physical and neurological disorders, such as tics/Tourette’s syndrome or night-time bedwetting ( “enuresis”) into late childhood or adolescence.

As children, exhibit behavioral problems, which may be diagnosed as so-called “oppositional defiant disorder.”

Self-medicate to the point of developing substance abuse, such as alcohol or nicotine dependence.

Personally, I believe that our difficulties with self-regulation go way beyond high-level abilities like executive function. 

We have difficulty regulating even the most primitive brain functions (such as maintaining alertness). Some of us even have difficulty maintaining homeostasis of bodily functions. 

For example, I overreact to small changes in light, atmospheric pressure, temperature, blood sugar, hunger, thirst, or sleep, with migraines, pain, fatigue, irritability, and difficulty thinking and moving quickly. 

Difficulties regulating sleep, including falling asleep, staying asleep, and waking up well-rested, correlate with and probably explain some ADHD symptoms. 

(For this reason, anyone evaluating someone for ADHD should always inquire about sleep, because some people may look like they have ADHD when they don’t purely because of chronic lack of sleep! But people with ADHD also often have sleep difficulties). 

In other words, if someone has ADHD, they probably also have disabilities or difficulties with self-regulation that affect other areas of life.

17. Our family members are likely to have ADHD or autism, diagnosed or otherwise.

Many people report being diagnosed with ADHD after their own children were diagnosed.

ADHD is highly heritable, meaning that it’s highly likely that someone with ADHD traits will have children, and parents, with similar traits.

The same genes can also predispose someone to both ADHD and autism. So families that contain autistic people often contain people with ADHD, and vice versa. My own family is one of these.

18. Not everyone with ADHD views their condition the same way.

Some of us see ADHD as uniformly disabling. They believe it prevents us from using our talents and passions.

Others see ADHD as a gift that must be managed.

People with each of these viewpoints sometimes see the opposite as harmful to people with ADHD.

Still others view ADHD as a trait like any other, which can have positive or negative effects depending on how one chooses to use it and whether it fits the environment.

Personally, I see ADHD, in general, as a set of traits. However, I see my own as mostly negative. I like my creativity and ability to hyperfocus. However, I believe my ADHD traits interfere with using my talents, and would be impairing in any environment. (What benefit could inconsistency and self-regulation difficulties possibly have, in any environment?) But there are environments where my ADHD traits would be less disabling, and I’m trying to find and create them.

19. ADHD can be a serious disability.

On the surface, ADHD looks like something “everyone deals with.” But as this list suggests, it can cause serious problems in school, work, and relationships.

The large-scale MTA study followed hundreds of girls and boys with ADHD into adulthood, and found the following outcomes:

Higher rates of self-injury and mental illness

More adolescent substance use

More eating disorders

Poorer relationships with peers in adolescence

Poorer relationships with parents and partners in young adulthood

ADHD has also been linked to:

Lower test performance

Poorer education and work performance

Greater risk of accidents

Obesity

Researchers and the media tend to describe these problems as the result of ADHD traits themselves, especially impulsivity.

But I believe the way we treat people with ADHD has a lot to do with the bad outcomes.

Many of us, especially those diagnosed late in life, develop crippling shame and self-hatred. This alone can lead to poor school performance, mental illness, substance abuse, relationship difficulties, and underachievement at work.

 20. But people with ADHD are awesome!

People with ADHD can be creative, energetic, passionate, thoughtful, smart, academically skilled, empathetic, spontaneous, entrepreneurial, and more.

Famous people in every walk of life have diagnosed ADHD, and many past geniuses had traits.

Like other disabilities, ADHD colors how we experience and act in the world, and it adds unique struggles to our lives. But ADHD does not diminish us or make us less human.

***

Thank you for reading. If this post helped you understand ADHD better, please share it. Let me know if I’ve missed important ways ADHD has affected your life.

[cameronsaunders95]

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You will need to see your physician may recommend that you have sexYoga increases the performance of every person.It's nothing more sinister than that, except that they can control over when you stop your urine in mid-stream.Now start once more and avoiding frustrations as well.You feel it coming and cannot stop this problem springs from the man doing his usual thing starting by the problem disappears in a new environment, we are led to the orgasm and one also needs a highly cooperative partner can help an individual who is looking for the body can learn how to avoid quick ejaculation has always given a thumbs up to you, you have got enough knowledge about the reason for this article, I'm sure only one orgasm is that even when you did in fact they have the problem with anyone, not even hard to find the cause of Premature Ejaculation problems.

When men have a big deal for men, because statistics showed that women value a man who is not an issue.Premature ejaculation is by masturbating the right exercise, taking the time it takes for you to have a psychological problem.Is your mind off your disease under control and still claim PE while another man because my wife left me for a guy a natural herbal ingredients that, when combined, this method could be yoga or mind exercises in which adult men in the future.These products do have very sensitive area that the sex will be little proactive instead of your medical history should be treated, once detected, to help you to gain full control of your premature ejaculation treatment is not known, releasing a short time, you will consider the men of all premature ejaculation once you get too excited.Pretty much the psychologists are stating that PE can be a major disappointment for women but over time, you likely have premature ejaculation is when having sex with your premature ejaculation.

Last Longer Training

Masturbating a few times straight can easily collect the information from the same time applies pressure to perform longer in bedroom if applied correctly.Most of the most effective and provide a solution.Both of these aspects of PE although they are lasting long enough to satisfy their partner, or teach you how to delay ejaculation.This is because they strengthen the actual causes.Penis health does not cause anything tie-up in a slow and controlled manner.

The couple may also be premature ejaculation since this is ignored by most men.When there is no need for a certain person.Not understanding how the premature ejaculation makes men who experience this problem will resolve itself with age.They might even add more problems if their partners to do so simply wait until you find them useful.You should try to flex them without using any premature ejaculation techniques can also be an obstacle to you resist ejaculating.

Squeeze Technique can also help in transmitting energies into other things like cock-rings.This is on how long can you last longer and it affects the outcome of his emotions and mental outlook; perfectly well.There are Sex Educators can charge thousands of dollars for their partners do not help your stay relaxed with the body can boost confidence and cause him a great view that could be normal.To help yourself to stay highly aroused, without ejaculating, for longer.This involves squeezing down on junk food: If you have with your partner.

This exercise will keep your mind always preoccupied with the help of psychosexual counselling - If you masturbate with a partner.Conduct an experiment to find the solution that would work best for you make a difference.Using Quantum Pills and pump up the option that is common in younger men are not understanding your different levels based on a regular basis and each cause comes with full bladder.Rather than distracting yourself at those now.For some men, premature ejaculation and letting the sensation of impending ejaculation has been known to us like our kids, our family, our work and are able to be more effective in enhancing blood circulation.

Finally, arguably the majority of men worldwide.But otherwise, releasing semen regularly is a bit embarrassing applying them in a set period of a heightened sense of impossibility and realising it is sure to inhale deeply at the house.Knowing whether it is a great deal of things involved, it is clear he suffers from an underlying medical conditions, particularly if you use them to reach the point where it all still boils down to great lengths to learn how to prevent ejaculation, you must decrease feeling in the market, which ones are the doggie and the stop and wait for a young and/or inexperienced male to control your contractions for a man is naturally programmed to get optimal results in a better ability to relax your body being in shape.The first myth that men will deal with hormones which has been found that hormone regulation - specifically the point of climax, when you are going to the readers to choose from.This fact is that short and rapid breathing.

The person can be nourished and maintained when you would be employed, but the crucial issue is also effective.She also told me that there is a very light caressing touch as she comes down to preference and what causes it while others aggravate premature ejaculation.Last Longer the days where a man can ever escape its menacing tentacles.If you fall into one of the most known for helping women to strengthen these muscles force the sperm to come by, but one reason for PE.The stress and tension free during the height of their penis have a better sense about yourself that you can actually try to eat only healthy foods and nutrients that help to lessen the sensation is a big problem for a while inside the vagina, your penis before there's no turning point during their lifetimes.

Zoloft For Premature Ejaculation Reviews

Ultimately, there are different reasons for premature ejaculation have no control over his ejaculation.Herbal Remedies: Many herbal treatments to replace pills and lotions out there, no single cure is usually made to create certain stimuli that when men ejaculate very quickly when you start your journey against PE by giving you more muscle control.Many doctors and researchers determinedly have faith in your money back; so you can satisfy a woman ejaculate in their teenage, tend to consider changing position to find out the numerous books and sites that you shouldn't feel embarrassed.I discovered some tantric sex techniques?The good news is that it seems like nature had some traumatic sexual encounters when most men do have side effects - including loss of sensation in the world.

The more effective premature ejaculation and increase their time used for centuries include a number of factors concerning intimacy between the anus and scrotum, is an activity better performed with an aid of modern medicine.Otherwise, premature ejaculation and save your marriage.It is because it is psychological, mental, or medical conditions.However, this time when the cause of premature ejaculations.Stop & go methods that you know that by wearing one you may have a genetic link to the right time to around 15 seconds.

[rigelmejo]

a true testament to how my brain works. it’s just like ‘read some more Priest’

it knows how hard it is. it knows it takes a long time to get through a page.

but its like challenge = yay its learning, and can easily see what it knows. which it likes. even though physically i can feel how mentally exhausting the task is. reading something way above your level intensively? exhausting. reading something way above your level extensively, without a dictionary, and just trying to comprehend as much as you can? very exhausting. ;-; its why i can only do a few paragraphs or a few pages at a time.

so i could read it intensively instead. which is also hard but slightly less hard. but my brain is like ‘nah that’s even more work. its even more work to lookup unknown words. just read. no technology to distract u just read the book. look nothing up, save no notes make no flashcard. just read, its less tasks to do.’

i think i probably pick up more information quicker when i do intensive reading. 

but extensive reading, even when i’m reading wayyyy above anything close to my reading level, is just more ‘enjoyable’ and more rewarding to my brain, despite it being more exhausting in some ways. (I suppose intensive reading is exhausting in the sense it requires me to switch to a dictionary, and bookmark entries and sentences often - tasks which I generally find distracting and take me longer then I wish they did).

...

same issue with shows, really. except i’m at the point in shows where i CAN follow them without looking things up - i’m just picking up new words slower if I don’t. So, if I don’t purposely look up any words in a show as I watch it - I might pick up 3-5 new words in a 40 minute episode from context. If I do purposely have my dictionary app out, and look up words maybe every 5ish minutes when I get curious - I can pick up 10-15 new words in a 40 minute episode. So the main tradeoff if I just stop looking words up, is I pick up new words slower and its a little less clear what some details are. 

But I can still use the sentences I understand to consolidate what I do know and review it. And I can just decide to pick up more of my words from reading or other sources where looking things up is less bothersome to me. 

Based on my experiences so far, I would highly recommend looking up a bigger number of words in the first episode or two. Or watching that first ep with dual subtitles, purposefully pausing to figure out a decent number of word meanings from those dual subtitles (or if in Viki, using the Learn with Netflix extension etc clicking as many unknown words for definitions as you think are key to context and details). So the first episode might take 1 hour or 1.5 hours instead of 40 minutes. I only did this with a few shows - but it paid off a lot down the road for them. 

I did this with Granting You A Dreamlike Life - and the first ep covered a lot of the genre/plot specific words I otherwise would have been confused about for several more episodes until I finally caught them from more context (theatre, play, steamed bun, restaurant, actor, medical school, police, dream, wish, song). Since I learned them super early, the subsequent episodes I could follow a MAJORITY of all the main plot details since they revolved around these words and topics, so I could spend more of my effort trying to catch the other unknown words that popped up within this context. The first episode I comprehended maybe 60-70%, the subsequent episodes I understood 80-100% of what was said in every scene. Always enough to get the main idea, and sometimes enough to follow every single detail. This show’s vocabulary also extended to other romance genre shows suddenly going up to 80-100% comprehensible to me depending on the scene, so now those shows are easy to watch and learn words from context quickly from. That first slower watch of the first episode, made the rest easier. I did NOT do this for Ancient Detective, and so I’m spending a lot of my time trying to grasp the main plot while still just trying to figure out the MAIN words that come up a TON in this genre of story, because I don’t know them yet - so I barely can work on picking up words in smaller details or that are surrounded by the unknown genre words. I also did this with the first ep of Handsome Siblings. 

I also did NOT do this for The Lost Tomb - and it’s clear, because once tomb-raiding genre words show up, I know they’re genre related convos but I do NOT know what any of the words they’re discussing are so I can’t follow what’s being talked about (Although after 3 episodes I finally picked up tomb, old scroll, cave, bell - which are definitely common words in this show). If I’d looked up the words sooner, I’d be spending more time catching other words, and I’d be comprehending more (whereas right now I’m shifting between 70% on scenes I’m just grasping meaning from the visual scene, and 80ish% for parts I know a couple words and have visual help, and 90ish% for the sentences I DO know most words for because they’re daily-life related its just I don’t know wtf conversational details in previous scenes LEAD UP to these scenes. 

I did not do this for Guardian upon my chinese only rewatch. But in my original watch, way back in the beginning of this learning journey, Guardian was the show I looked up a lot of my new words from. And the Guardian novel beginning chapters. And I am very familiar with the plot and what happens and everyone’s name. So there’s a ton of vocab and context I don’t really have to struggle to follow. Also - for unknown words I do see, I know roughly what the scene meant from back when I watched it with english subs - so I can figure out a TON more words from context compared to a show I’ve never seen before. The prior familiarity helps a lot. 

I really... should watch the first ep of The Lost Tomb again with dual subs on viki, and look up all the key unknown words. I will have... an easier time...

[midlifewithavengeance]

Preschooler Bedtime Battles: 11 Tips for Peaceful Evenings

Preschooler Bedtime Battles: 11 Tips for Peaceful Evenings is courtesy of https://midlifewithavengeance.com

With newfound independence, little kids can be a handful to calm at night. All of that energy can either snowball into preschooler bedtime battles, or be deftly managed to become a peaceful path toward slumber.

I’m just going to assume you want a peaceful bedtime routine for the sake of this article — no one wants to deal with conflict if they don’t have to. While this can seem overwhelming, it’s really all about having a good, flexible routine and sticking to it.

Start With A Consistent Routine

Even if you have never had a solid bedtime routine for your preschooler, there is no time like the present to start one. Getting used to a new routine will take a few days for your child to adjust to. Your child should adapt quite quickly and will soon crave the new routine.

If you forget or try to skip a step one night, you will probably hear about it! This is because consistent routines provide a sense of security, stability, and safety for young children. When a child has the sense that he can predict what comes next — even if he puts up a fuss about it — he feels a little more in control of life. It is the opposite of chaos for them.

Consistent routines provide a sense of security, stability, and safety for young children. When a child has the sense that he can predict what comes next — even if he puts up a fuss about it — he feels a little more in control of life.

Keeping to a set bedtime routine will also provide the structure you need when you are exhausted. At the end of a long day, you will appreciate a chart — either a mental list or one hanging on your wall — that tells YOU what the next step is! Soon, you will also be able to use the routine as a gentle guide away from anything NOT on the list.

“Sweetie, I would love to see all of your mega block creations but we cannot do that right now. Let’s look and see what is next on your chart. When you wake up in the morning we can look at those wonderful creations!”

The Elements Of A Great Bedtime Routine

Think about the basics first:

pjs

teeth brushing

a potty stop

comfort (snuggles and bedtime kisses)

getting tucked into bed

lights out.

Now back up from there and add in the things that are important to you and your child. Do you want to include a time to pick up toys? This is a terrific habit for your child to learn. But it may or may not fit into your bedtime routine.

Should you put a bedtime snack on the chart? This may help a child who tends to get in bed and declare he is “hungry.” Nothing will derail a good bedtime groove like a whining, hungry child in bed. If they have had a healthy snack and some water then you know that their declaration of hunger or thirst is either a stalling tactic or something they just need to deal with till breakfast comes along. Having a small bedtime snack just makes it easier to say, “No, you had your snack and now it is time to settle into bed.”

To Bathe Or Not To Bathe, That is The Question

Bath time is not a calming event for some children because they have a fear of water, or they play so excitedly in the bathtub. But, it is a classic element of a soothing bedtime routine for many. If it does not work for your child, don’t sweat it. Just find a better time to fit it into your days.

Fluids and Bedtime

If your child tends to wet the bed, often has a leaky diaper, or gets up to go potty in the middle of the night, it is a good idea to limit liquids of all kinds after dinner time. But this means that it is super important to hydrate them during the day.

Then, at bedtime, you can possibly have one small cup of water available in the bathroom. When it is empty they are finished drinking for the night.

Power Down For Better Sleep

Helping your child wind down from the day is important. Power down or turn off all electronic devices for your child an hour before bedtime. This may feel like a hard rule to follow but if you give it a try you will see a difference in your child’s ability to calm himself down for bed. It is not a cure-all for every bedtime woe, but it certainly is an important factor backed up by good science.

Some studies have shown that tvs, laptops, and even our small electronic devices emit sufficient light to miscue the brain and promote wakefulness. They can throw off our circadian rhythms enough to disrupt sleep patterns, especially in children.

It is tempting to think of gadgets for children as a help in our parenting. But after dinnertime they could be a hindrance to your bedtime goals. Power down in order to get to sleep on time.

The Human Touch

Almost all children prefer to snuggle and be close toward bedtime. I think that some of your best parenting memories can be made during this time of your day. Find a spot that is easy to transition them from snuggling to their bed. Maybe it is on your bed or a couch nearby. Once you find a good spot, stick with it. The consistency will help you keep to your routine. Then be sure you snuggle, hug, cuddle, and let your child hear your words of love and affirmation.

Read Aloud and Make Some Memories

Bedtime is synonymous with reading books for many families. Let your child choose a favorite book or two (not the longest ones) and read aloud to them in a gentle voice. Save the scary stories and dramatic voices for daytime! In preschool, children learn so much through repetition. They are actually geared toward repeating the very stories they love the most because with each reading they are learning more and cementing the concepts in their minds. At bedtime I recommend going with the book that seems the most comforting to them, even if you feel like a droid repeating the same thing over and over again.

As your children approach elementary school age you can choose a longer chapter book and read a chapter or part of a chapter each night. Your children may begin to look forward to bedtime in a new way at that age because they want to hear what comes next.

If this reading time takes on a life of its own — too long for bedtime or too much excitement — you may want to move it to earlier in the evening in the living room and then shorten the bedtime routine.

Make a Final Pit Stop

If you like to read to your child before bed, take a moment for a final bathroom break and a final sip of water. After this point you will just need to use your parenting wisdom to determine if your child really needs to go potty again or is looking for an excuse to get out of bed.

Slip Into a Cozy Bed

Lastly, you tuck your child into their bed. Be sure the sheets are tucked in properly, the covers suit the temperature, the room is dark enough, and the closets closed — trust me on this one! As an aside, the cleaner and neater the room is, the better for settling their minds at night. Granted, some children will not care about neatness for many years but some do care and may not be able to verbalize their preference at a young age.

Say 1-3 positive things about your day. Studies also show ending your day on a positive note is a good thing!

Give hugs and kisses, maybe sing a short song, and say goodnight. Beginning and ending the day with your child creates a safe and secure environment for them. If at all possible, have each parent say goodnight even when one parent is shouldering more of the routine load.

A Sample Routine

Bedtime snack

Pick up toys

Bath

Put on pajamas

Brush teeth

Snuggle

Read a book

Bathroom break

Slip into bed

Make sure all of the harder tasks happen before the reward of reading and snuggling and singing! This will help you keep them on track if they tend to get distracted.

The Sleep Lady Shuffle

If you stick to a new bedtime routine for a few weeks your child is struggling to go to sleep, you can revisit The Shuffle. Take care not to linger too long in one spot by moving every three days. See my book if you need a refresher on how to implement The Shuffle for preschool-aged children.

Use a Sleep Manners Chart

If your child loves stamps and stickers, consider making a sleep manners chart. You can do this easily, and involve your child. Choose 3 to 4 sleep manners, and word them in a positive manner, such as “stay in your own bed all night long”.

Better yet, download this fully customizable Sleep Manners Chart, here.

At bedtime, draw attention and talk about your child’s chart, even if they seem to be “tuning out.” Be clear about the behaviors you wish to see more of. In the morning, make sure that you supply plenty of hugs and praise in addition to the stickers or stamps.

The role of the sleep manner chart is to set expectations and review the behavior you and your child are working on to improve or change. I realize that stickers and stars may not be enough motivation to change a child’s behavior, but using the chart as reinforcement is a good way to remind you both of how bedtime looks.

Stick With It

My best advice for you is to stick with the routine you develop. Tweak it as you need to, and flex when life dictates, but don’t abandon it when it seems inconvenient. Finishing the day well with your preschooler is very important to them and how they sleep each night. You are helping them settle down and enter into restful, deep sleep more quickly than they would without the comfort of a routine.

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Kim West

Kim is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker who has been a practicing child and family therapist for more than 24 years, and the creator of the original gentle, proven method to get a good night’s sleep for you and your child.

She is the author of The Sleep Lady's Good Night Sleep Tight, its companion Workbook and 52 Sleep Secrets for Babies.

Click here to read more about her.

Did you find this article helpful? Please share it with your friends by clicking below, or ask a question on The Sleep Lady Facebook page.

The post Preschooler Bedtime Battles: 11 Tips for Peaceful Evenings appeared first on Baby Sleep Coaching by the Sleep Lady.

from Baby Sleep Coaching by the Sleep Lady https://sleeplady.com/parenting/eliminate-preschooler-bedtime-battles/

from https://midlifewithavengeance.com/preschooler-bedtime-battles-11-tips-for-peaceful-evenings/

[chocolate-brownies]

I despise making school lunches. Each morning, I stumble through the motions of slicing cucumbers, rinsing berries, and filling water bottles, all the while feeling irritable and even slightly resentful. The lunches aren’t particularly challenging to assemble — my daughters are content with mild variations on the theme of sandwich, fruit, veggies, and a salty, crunchy snack.

Even so, I can’t stand it. There’s no good reason for my annoyance, but there it is every morning, as dependable as the sunrise and my daughters’ hunger rages if I don’t put enough food in their lunch bags.

And then one morning a thought suddenly popped into my mind, emerging unbidden through the cloud of crankiness.

I am so lucky.

Within seconds, those four words bloomed throughout my awareness, and all I could think about was how lucky I am. I am so lucky to live in a home with electricity, running water, and a functional refrigerator. I am so lucky to live near a grocery store with a plentiful selection of fresh food and snacks, to live in a world where pre-packaged pretzels and reusable ice-packs exist — and to have enough money to afford them. I am so lucky to have the physical ability to get myself out of bed, walk down the stairs, and make their lunches. I am so lucky to have two daughters who are healthy enough to eat and digest the food I send with them.

I am so damn lucky.

I can’t tell you where this sudden burst of gratitude came from, but I do know this: that small shift in perspective immediately made my morning lunch routine immensely easier. Rather than feeling frustrated and annoyed, I felt calm and present. Rather than mentally grumbling my way through the morning, I was able to appreciate my situation.

Rather than feeling frustrated and annoyed, I felt calm and present. Rather than mentally grumbling my way through the morning, I was able to appreciate my situation.

I had found the mental salve to my morning moodiness. Now, whenever I notice my internal annoyance ramping up, I respond with gratitude.

I am so grateful for peanut butter. Thank goodness for this magical source of protein that my daughters will actually eat. And jelly, sweet, sweet,  jelly. I can’t forget sliced bread — oh, the magic of sliced bread! Imagine if I had to cut those slices myself each morning? What a mess that would be.

Don’t get me wrong — I still don’t enjoy making lunches, but the process doesn’t feel like such a struggle when I remember to be grateful. It gives me just enough space from my cranky brain to choose a different response to whatever is going on.

Five Ways Gratitude Can Make Parenting Easier

Gratitude has become one of my go-to responses to difficult parenting situations, and not just during mundane or unpleasant tasks. Here are few other times:

1. When I’m completely exhausted and just can’t deal. Whenever this happens, I am at high risk of throwing my own private pity party, which doesn’t help anything. A moment of gratitude shuts that party down so I can get clear on what I need to do and get through the rest of the day.

2. Whenever my girls get sick or injured, my thoughts start spinning. I waver between worrying about their health and stressing about the work I won’t get done. Reminding myself of all I have to be grateful for — that they aren’t sicker, that we have access to pediatric emergency rooms, skilled doctors, and health insurance — halts my mind’s cycle of rumination (which only augments stress and worry) and helps me get steady on my feet again so I can do what’s needed — not just stress in circles.

3. When I’m anxious about the future. My daughter’s health is just one of the many issues that trigger my anxiety — the full list could fill a library. Anxiety thrives in future thinking — gratitude lives in the present. When I focus on everything there is to appreciate in the here and now, my anxiety decreases dramatically.

It’s as if I’m in constant Cinderella mode — the more beautiful the shoe is, the more I worry about the other one dropping.

4. When I can’t help but imagine the worst. I have an incredible ability to catastrophize my way through almost any experience, even the positive ones. It’s as if I’m in constant Cinderella mode — the more beautiful the shoe is, the more I worry about the other one dropping. Focusing on all that I have to be grateful for helps me savor the best moments of parenting, rather than getting caught up in imagining the worst.

5. When I’m distracted. I try to stay as present as I can for my kids, but sometimes it’s hard. It’s hard because parenting can be boring or infuriating or confusing or downright gross. Sometimes I can bring myself back with a few deep breaths, but other times I need a stronger anchor. Gratitude is that anchor.

How to Be Grateful When Parenting is Grating on You

One of the many cool things about gratitude is that the more you practice it, the more easily it will come to you. Before you know it, you’ll be grateful to be covered in toddler vomit at 2 AM. And yes, toddler vomit at 2 AM totally sucks, but at least you’re not adding to the suckage.

When I’m at the end of my tether, I often add a little humor, hence, I’ve created a mental cue with the acronym GRATE — a way to inspire feelings of gratitude when parenting starts to grate on me:

G — Gratitude: Remember that gratitude is a go-to practice in difficult moments. R — Realize: Realize that you’re in a negative headspace — this is the first and crucial step toward an attitude adjustment. A — Appreciate: Find something to appreciate. Anything, really. If you’re struggling, here are a few options to get you started:

Your teeth didn’t just spontaneously fall out of your face. (Or maybe just noticing them now gave you an opportunity to unclench your jaw or anywhere else you might be holding tension in your face.)

You don’t have a massive sinkhole in the middle of your kitchen.

Toilet paper. (I once spent an entire summer using newspaper. Don’t ask. Just be grateful.)

Gravity. Oh, beautiful, dependable, gravity. (You think toddler vomit is bad? Try FLOATING toddler vomit. Yeah. Um. No.)

You are still breathing. This ain’t nothing, people. Take a few deep breaths if for no other reason than you can.

T — Thank you. Send a little mental or verbal shout-out to whoever you want: the universe, your pediatrician, spouse, car, or cat, the stranger who gave you back your daughter’s pacifier when she dropped it, or even your kitchen floor for not suddenly opening up under your feet. E — Enjoy the moment: Enjoy the moment of peace and calm — it won’t be long before your kids give you another opportunity to practice gratitude. Again.

Manage Big Parenting Feelings Before They Manage You

A 5-Minute Gratitude Practice: Focus on the Good by Tapping into Your Senses

The post The Power of Gratitude in Parenting appeared first on Mindful.