#when you get 2 people with adhd in the same bed expect chaos.

[parkermunson]

we all talk about kinky Eddie but what about goofy, giggly sex? let's be honest, eddie is a menace sometimes [18+ obv]

eddie gets over-excited and accidentally bumps your teeth when kissing. he pulls away feigning hurt, holding his lip with a pout, just to laugh and say "just jokin, sweetheart"

eddie pushes you on his bed and your head bumps the wall a little. you spend the next 5 minutes convincing him you're totally fine and you should really get back to the task at hand because you're so. turned. on.

eddie who gets ahead of himself and tries taking off his jeans while walking only to fall flat on his face. you can't help but break down laughing and neither can he

you're on top riding him like your life depends on it and he grips your hips harshly to stop. you look at him confused only to watch him swat your hair away from his face and fake cough

you change positions to missionary. you're so close, eddie is too, but then "fuck, CRAMP. CRAMP! MY LEG"

eddie's back to grinding into you, faces so close together intimately. "did you have.. *sniff* garlic for lunch?"

stopping midthrust to sneeze

he stops again moments later, sighs and mentions he forgot to do something. "it can wait... no it can't." he grabs a shirt to place in front of him and runs out of his room. you hear a bunch of clanking metal then he's back. "wayne wanted me to take food out of the freezer for him. nearly knocked over the fridge, i was moving too fast"

he climbs on top and puts his cold hands on your belly

gets too excited and keeps missing your hole.

he's thrusting in you when you put your hand on his chest to stop him. "i hate this song." "babe, we talked about this. sabbath will never get turned off during sex." "but can't you change just this song? lower it maybe??" he pulls out, walks to the stereo, and turns it up

you get on your knees in front of him, his hands dig into your hair. he stops you just as your mouth is about to devour him, "nope, you're right. this song sucks"

your mouth is gliding over his cock, his hand is gripping your hair. he's thrusting into your mouth but pulls out suddenly. gasping, "that was a close one. almost came in your mouth when it's your puss-puss that's hungry." you grimace at his words. "yeah, i heard how bad that sounded too but i ran with it anyway"

you're back on top riding him, this time with your hair in a bun. you start slow, but get impatient and start bouncing quicker. you've both been waiting for release and now you finally get to it. eddie's fingers are digging into your hips while your nails are clawing into his upper chest. you ride it out and collapse on top of him, your breathing synchronises as it slowly comes down

you sit up and look down at him. "hi," you whisper. "hi," he chuckles back.

eventually you get up and both of you slide some underwear on. he turns to you with a hand held up toward you. "great teamwork back there, champ." he's expecting a high five but you just shake your head and make your way toward the bathroom. "well.. practice is same time next week"

[background-noise-headache]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No such luck.

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

“He shouldn’t be cursed any more.”

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

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I didn’t see it until you left.”

“And you didn’t break it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

[jigensass]

Thoughts

I always have this tendency to be...human. My interests, opinions, thoughts, feelings, and so on, change such as the ebb and flow of the ocean move back and forth on the beach. But just like a bull in a china shop, these feelings overstay their welcome and cause chaos in my everyday life. It always occurs when I am least expectant of it. I never notice it when I am in a "decent" mood. Since I've had this whole week off, I've been constantly stimulating myself with tasks I have been wanting to do: watch Netflix, write, read, non-work tasks as a change of pace. However, I got so involved with a new app of coloring pages it was probably what I did for about a third of my time off so far.

Before this week and a few weeks prior, I've noticed all of my energy going into my work and then coming home and curling into bed to go asleep. The weekends would also consist of these same activities (maybe I would go to the store to buy groceries but doing that mere task wiped me out for the rest of the day until about 8pm). This exhaustion has also led me to neglect my meditation practices on an active scale. Needless to say, I was attempting to practice at work and keep my mind at ease. But this week stirred something inside of me.

My brain is always wanted to be stimulated. From dusk until dawn. I wake up around 6 am, grab my phone, check Tumblr, go to work. I get to work at 7:30 am, I instantly turn on my laptop and do not stop sometimes until 4-5 pm. Get home and do the above paragraph. Some days, I'm perfectly fine with this. The constant buzz keeps me going. But after 3 weeks of doing the same thing and having to account for 5 other different people to make sure they're on par with doing their jobs, it was soaking me dry. Last Friday when I was the only person in our department on shift (the other guy had to go home because he was sick as well) I texted my boss who was off in an equivalent of a bitch fit because I was on my last fuck to give after all the mud I had been drug through in the last 3 weeks. Given I was completely aware that 'shit happens', I was still angry because this was not the first time I had been run over by the bus like this. She called me to calm me down which did help, she seems to be one of the very few people who actually understand my brain, can process my emotions, and get me down to a solid state of inner peace.

The difficulty of finding this 'inner peace' on my own is that the concept happens in a way that isn't mindful by what every Buddhist book I've read is actually mindfulness. I've been meditating for over a year now and I have achieved mindfulness, but not all the time.

In times like the past couple of weeks, I have neglected to sit on the cushion mostly because I don't have the energy to do so. I did yesterday and it came to reflect that my mind has 20+ things buzzing in it at once when I am moving through life. Music, stray past thoughts, futures that would never happen, and so on. When you're trying to be calm, it overstimulates you so much it causes a breakdown. I did some reading before typing this section and ADHD people tend to be either adrenaline junkies or sensitive as shit. I disagree with this statement because I believe I fall somewhere right in the middle. A lot of factors are dependant on where on I am on this quote "continuum" despite the time, location, alignment of the stars, my mood, the situation and activity I'm involved in, etc. Some things I would continue to pleasure myself with like a crackhead (such as taking in information from books and doing coloring pages), but other times I am so sensitive to certain things I just want to hit the eject button so fast (i.e. socializing in general and talking. Foreign noises tend to irk me, noises of any kind distract me).

Why I decided to write this big, long...thing, is that I have come to somewhat of a realization or if it's a reminder. (IDK) But here is my conclusion to the events of last night's meditation/this week's mindlessness/reading some books.

Some may not know, but I decided to ditch social media around September 2018 for the majority of sites (minus this one). And it HELPED with my overall success to peace with myself. I didn't ditch this site because I had people who cared about me and abandoning them would put me in the basis of isolation.

However, in regards to more personal reasons about myself, I feel as though writing Stephen's persona has gotten me to a point where it is affecting me emotionally (yet again, this isn't the first time I've noticed it and I've let it go over a meltdown or two, but I have decided that it didn't help and in the end, only spun things faster). It's nothing y'all did wrong, it's me. It's how my brain has been responding to things ever since I was a child.

So, yeah, I'm taking a hiatus. Don't know how long it will be. A day? 2 weeks? *shrug* I don't know. I just need to think things over.

Final Statement: The way I've been writing and getting caught up into things is not healthy for me and I should have caught it earlier when the signs were obvious. But I was on a dopamine junkie rush and didn't see it.

[nuwandatowanda]

(via What It’s Like to Live A Day with ADHD)

Writing about a day in the life of someone with ADHD is a tricky thing. I don't think any two of my days look alike. Adventure and (somewhat) controlled chaos are my constant companions.

As someone who runs a YouTube channel called How to ADHD, who’s engaged to someone with ADHD, who has ADHD herself, and who talks to tens of thousands of ADHD brains, I can tell you this — if you’ve met one person with ADHD, you’ve met one person with ADHD. We’re vastly different creatures.

We do have a surprising amount in common though, especially when it comes to the stuff we experience on a daily basis. Most days, it’s:

a rollercoaster of successes and failures

some moments feeling like a genius, and others feeling stupid

both distractibility and hyperfocus

good intentions gone off the rails

little emotional wounds from being judged by the outside world — or ourselves!

the healing from being understood and accepted for who we are

I hope this peek into my experience of one day with ADHD helps with that understanding.

The morning scramble

I wake up suddenly, search for my phone — what time is it??

Oh, okay. Still early.

It takes me awhile to fall back asleep — restless legs — but as soon as I do, the alarm goes off. The snooze button and I trade punches until my fiancé turns it off.

I jolt awake — what time is it now??

I scramble for my phone. 11 am.

SHOOT. Totally missed my morning yoga class, and now there’s not even time to shower. I growl at my fiancé — “why did you turn off the alarm??” — and stumble toward the dryer for clean clothes … which are still in the washer. I start a new cycle, then dig through the hamper, literally sniffing for something to wear.

I throw on semi-decent clothes, deodorant, mascara, take my meds — I’m almost out, SHOOT, gotta make an appointment to get another prescription — grab a Fiber One bar on the way out the door …

And then I run back inside to grab my phone. 11:15. YES! I’ll still make it to my meeting!

With time to spare, I run upstairs to kiss my fiancé goodbye and apologize for my morning crankiness. And I’m out the door! Woot!

I run back inside to grab my keys. 11:19. STILL GOOD!

The part where I wish time machines were a thing

As I jump on the freeway, I remember to call my psychiatrist — also that I forgot to charge my phone last night. Gotta decide between my headphones or my charger (thanks, iPhone 7).

4 percent battery? Charger wins. I wish wireless headphones were an option, but I have a hard enough time not losing regular headphones. And technically, they’re on a leash.

I try using the speakerphone but it’s too noisy on the freeway, so I hold the phone up to my ear as I call. The receptionist says there’s only one appointment available before my meds run out — do I want it? “Um … let me check my calendar … ”

Shoot. It’s the same time as coffee with Anna. This would be the second time in a row I’ve canceled on her. Not much choice though.

I’ll make it up to her, I vow … somehow.

I bring the phone back to my ear and see police lights in my rearview mirror. I panic and wonder how long they’ve been following me. The receptionist is halfway through confirming my appointment — I hang up and pull over.

One policeman eyes the dirty plates on my passenger side floor — I call these my car dishes — as the other hands me a ticket. As soon as they turn away, I start bawling. But I’m very aware I deserved it and weirdly grateful for being called out. I’ll definitely drive safer from now on.

Wait, 11:45?!

I get back on the road and check Waze obsessively to see whether I can make up for lost time. I drive faster, but Waze is annoyingly accurate. Eight minutes late as predicted.

Well, not terrible … you don’t really need to call unless you’ll be more than 15 minutes late, right?

Except I still needed to park … and fix my mascara … and walk over.

12:17. Ugh, I should’ve called. “SO sorry I’m late!”

My friend is unfazed. I can’t decide if I’m grateful he isn’t annoyed, or depressed that he expected it.

I tell him that, half joking. But he takes me seriously and says, “I used to have trouble with that, too. So now I just leave early.”

But this is what I hear: “I can do it, why can’t you?”

I don’t know. I try. It never seems to work out. I don’t get it either.

He starts pitching an internet project he wants me to write and I’m having trouble focusing. I’m doing a good job of pretending, though. I’ve got the thoughtful nod down.

Plus, my meds should kick in soon … Seriously though, does he have to talk that slow?

I see a server hand someone a check and I wonder how much my ticket was for. When do I have to pay it by? Do I have to pay by check? Do I even HAVE checks anymore? Wait, did I set up autopay for my new credit card?

I’ve missed half of what he’s saying. Oops. I start playing with my spinner ring to ground my attention. Focusing gets easier, but this doesn’t look as good as the thoughtful nod. I can tell he’s wondering if I’m listening now. Ah, the irony.

Honestly, this project sounds cool. But something feels off — I don’t know what. I have good instincts, but I’m kinda new at this whole “success” thing. I failed pretty regularly the first decade of my adult life.

It’s weird being successful enough that other people want to work with you. It’s even weirder having to decide whether or not they get to.

I awkwardly end the meeting.

Back on schedule — let’s try to keep it that way

I check my bullet journal, the only planner I’ve ever been able to sort of stick to, to see what’s next. Research from 2 to 5pm, dinner 5 to 6pm, writing 6 to 9pm, relax 9 to 11:30pm, bed by midnight. Totally doable.

My meds are in full effect, my focus is good, so I decide to head back home and start early. I should maybe eat lunch, but I’m not hungry. The table next to me orders fries. Fries sound good.

I eat fries.

On my way home, my friend calls. I don’t answer. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to get another ticket, but I know it’s because I don’t want to disappoint him. Maybe I should do his project. It was a cool idea.

Back home, I cuddle up with a soft blanket, and start researching — and realize why I didn’t want to do the project. I reach for my phone and can’t find it. The hunt begins — and ends with me giving up and using the Find My iPhone feature. A loud beeping emerges from my blanket.

I call my friend. He answers. Does anyone else find that slightly weird? I almost never answer when people call. Especially if I might not like what they have to say. Call it phone anxiety, but a text to announce a phone call is the only way to get me to pick up — maybe.

But he answers, so I tell him why I don’t want to write his project: “Because YOU should write it!” I tell him what he said that made me realize it and walk him through how to get started. Now he’s excited. I know he’ll crush at this. I feel successful for the first time today.

Maybe I do know what I’m doing. Maybe I — I hang up and see what time it is. 3:45.

Oops. I’m supposed to be researching dyslexia for an episode.

I throw myself into the research until my alarm goes off at 5, reminding me to stop for dinner. But there’s stuff I still don’t understand yet. Ehhh, I’ll just keep going until 6.

It’s 7 and I’m starving. I grab way too much food — wait, wait.

I bring the food to my desk and begin typing furiously: “Turn ‘reading with dyslexia’ into a game …”

I write half the episode.

I get a better idea.

I start working on that one — WAIT — laundry! Not gonna beat me THIS time!

Switching the clothes to the dryer, I realize my workout clothes aren’t in there. Argh, I missed today so I have to go tomorrow or I’m not gonna feel good.

I grab my yoga pants and a bunch of other clothes off the floor of pretty much every room in the house and start a new load. I remember to set a timer!

I sit back down to write, but the idea doesn’t seem as great now.

Or maybe I don’t really remember it.

ADHD, the after hours

I can tell my meds are wearing off. It’s getting harder to hold all the thoughts in my brain while I work with them. The page in front of me is a random tangle of words. I’m getting frustrated.

The timer goes off. I gotta change the laundry — except the dryer’s still going.

I set the timer for another 10 minutes and head to the couch to hang upside down and try to get my brain to work.

Upside down, I remember I’m trying to get better about work-life balance and wonder if I should stop, even though I haven’t gotten much done. But tomorrow’s super busy, especially now that I have to work out, and — BZZZ.

I race back to the laundry room, take a corner too sharply and run into the wall, bounce off, grab the dry clothes, dump them on my bed, switch over the wet ones, and start the dryer. I race back and check the clock. 9:48.

Okay, I’ll keep working, but I’ll stop at 10:30. And fold the laundry. And relax.

10:30 comes and goes. I find a way back into that idea and I’m in a flow. I can’t stop. This is hyperfocus, and it can be both a blessing and a curse for those of us with ADHD. I write and write, and rewrite and rewrite, until my fiancé comes to check on me and finds me passed out in front of the computer.

He carries me upstairs, sees the pile of clothes on the bed, pushes them aside, and tucks me in. I promise to do better tomorrow, to make more time for us. And to fold the clothes.

He kisses me and tells me that clothes are just clothes, but the stuff we make lasts forever.

I hug him, hard. And see the time over his shoulder — it’s 3am. I’m gonna have to choose between sleep and yoga. Tomorrow’s gonna be another scramble.

Written by Jessica McCabe on July 27, 2017