WHY DID NO ONE NOTICE BFORE THOUGH LIKE NOW THAT I HAVE MEDS. I CAN ACTUALLY GET SHIT DONE IM NOT LAZY OR STUPID LIKE I USE TO THINK I WAS.
like I didn't notice I got overstimulation because I dissociated so damn much I could barely form a god-damned conversation.
Well if I'm being honest systemic racism and religious trauma due to colonization of stolen land. Has a lot of factors to make late diagnosis possible.
my throat is closing my heart is too big my skin is shriveling and my eyes feel like dust. the noise is too loud but too quiet at once my brain is pounding and my blood is humming. this, i feel, is death.
For the dialogue prompts ~ "Can I make you something to eat?...Okay. Want a hug maybe?...Okay. Do you want me to sit with you?...I can do that, love."
Sorry you're having a bad night and I hope tomorrow is kinder to you :)
thank you, this is very soft and lovely and I appreciate it <3
modern au - established relationship - mild angst, mostly soft
tw: nonverbal ADHD Jaskier - overstim (based on my own experiences)
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Jaskier made his way into the apartment; Geralt listened as the graduate student silently removed his jacket and hung it in the hallway closet. He heard the sound of Jaskier’s familiar footsteps padding down the hall and then the quiet click of his bedroom door closing behind him. Geralt followed quietly, pausing outside and unsure of how to proceed.
This had only happened a couple times before, if the situation was in fact what Geralt assumed it to be. The nervous zookeeper held his breath and knocked on the door lightly with the very tip of his knuckle. “Babe?”
The door opened a crack and one wide, red-rimmed eye stared out at him.
Geralt lowered his voice to a whisper and asked: “Are you okay?”
Jaskier shook his head No.
“Can I make you something to eat?” No. “Okay. Want a hug, maybe?” No. “Okay. Do you want me to sit with you?”
Jaskier opened the door wide enough to let Geralt slide past him and then shut it again, eager to keep the light out. The brunette had drawn his sound-and-light proof curtains closed and piled all three of his favorite weighted blankets onto the foot of his bed. They’d been sharing Geralt’s memory-foam mattress lately since it was more comfortable, but Jaskier needed his own space to work on songs and homework and video presentations.
Geralt teasingly called the space “Pooh’s Corner” because every time he peeked his head through the door Jaskier was wrapped up in at least two different fluffy blankets while he worked.
Now, with his big blue eyes as round as dinner-plates and shining with unshed tears, he looked incredibly small. More like a lost, sad little Christopher Robin than the snuggly rambunctious Pooh. Geralt sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, knowing that Jaskier would tell him what he needed one way or another.
The music student crawled up the mattress and huddled against the nest of pillows by the headboard. He patted the space next to him and Geralt made his way up, careful not to jostle the bed too much. He sat with his back against the headboard and stretched his legs out in front of him. Jaskier wrapped himself up in one of the blankets and scooted himself over until he was curled into a ball across Geralt’s upper thighs. The student’s warm back was pressed tightly to Geralt’s abdomen; one long-fingered hand took Geralt’s and placed it on the crown of his head.
The zookeeper, slightly anxious in case he made a wrong move, began to gently thread his fingers in and out of Jaskier’s hair, petting softly and smoothing it away from his eyes. The student settled, his weight going full and heavy atop Geralt’s legs.
“Rest,” the older man whispered. “I’ve got you, Jask. You’re safe here.”
Jaskier looked up at him, his words hanging unspoken but understood between them: I know. Thank you. I love you.
Geralt smiled down reassuringly and kept running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Over and over again. “I love you, too.”
hey.. I've been having a high anxiety day so I'm terribly tired.. may I request some fluff to deal with all the negative feelings??
Geralt knows that it’s going to be one of Those Days when he walks into the living room and finds Jaskier sitting on their shitty floral-print couch, staring blankly at the dark television. “Did that meeting with the board last night empty what was left of your People Battery?”
The mess of brown bedhead bobs up and down. “Yeah.”
Geralt loads a streaming service while Jaskier remains motionless and silent, watching Geralt’s movements with a sense of something beyond both boredom and apathy. “Do you want to watch ‘Regular Show’ or ‘Chowder’?”
“Can I-” Jaskier sighs as if asking this question is the hardest thing he’s ever done. As far as Geralt knows, in this moment, asking this question might very well be the hardest thing for Jaskier to do. “Can we watch Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century?”
“Yeah,” Geralt smiles, typing the request into the smart-tv and pressing ‘play’. “I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like the usual?”
“Yes, please.”
Geralt hates how small Jaskier’s voice gets when he’s like this. The usual exuberance and energy is gone, drained by too much human interaction, and only the shell is left. He knows how to take care of his best friend, though. He’s good at this. He gets the coffee going and puts a kettle of water on the stove to boil.
Then he returns to the living room and grabs the thickest, fuzziest blanket they own. He spreads it out on the floor and gestures at it. “Burrito time.”
Jaskier smiles gratefully and lays down on one end of the blanket, his arms and hands tucked tightly against his sides. Geralt pulls the edge of the material up and braces his hands against Jaskier’s shoulders, heaving and rolling his friend’s lanky body until the brunette is totally wrapped in the warmth of the comforter. When he’s properly cocooned, Geralt lifts him up from the floor and deposits him back on the couch looking much happier than he did before.
“Thanks.”
Geralt nods. He goes to the kitchen to fix his friend a cup of herbal tea, and gets his mug of coffee (with 2 generous spoons of sugar). He smiles once again when he realizes that Jaskier has started laughing along with some of the horrible early 2000′s dialogue. Fox Kids was not exactly quality programming, even if it was a goofy concept for a show.
“Feeling better?” the Witcher asks, sliding Jaskier’s mug down the coffee table towards him.
“Yeah...” Jaskier wiggles in his cocoon until he’s gently pressed against the solid warmth of his roommate’s side. He slowly rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, his muscles tense as he waits to be rebuffed. Geralt merely slides an arm around the blanketed mass of his friend and smiles. “Much better, actually.”
Geralt presses a soft kiss to his brown bangs. “Good. Do I drain your People Battery, buttercup?”
Jaskier warms at the nickname and shakes his head. “Never. I could spend every day with you forever and still be just as happy as I am now.”
“Are you happy?”
“I am wrapped in an enormous Blues Clues blanket being snuggled by the worlds sweetest Witcher,” he giggles, “What’s not to be happy about?”
Jaskier adores Geralt’s little acts of service like this, and hopes that soon the big buff himbo will buck up and admit his feelings. Jaskier is patient. He’ll wait. He doesn’t want to scare Geralt off; although if his darling Witcher can handle his drained days so well, perhaps there’s nothing to wait for after all.
Geralt laughs at something Watson said, breaking Jaskier from his reverie. He does love this man, after all. Why keep him waiting? Maybe Geralt was just shy. He certainly blushed a lot when he saw Jaskier in any state of undress... or if he was worried about him... or when Jaskier flirted with him casually in passing...
When this episode is over, he decides, he’ll kiss Geralt for real.
Heads up for christmas shopping with ADHD!
I love Target for the calming enviroment, not too loud of music, and just a generally sensitivity safe place to shop without feeling overwhelmed.
So I figured the SuperTarget would be the same, right??
WRONG. Loud blaring party christmas music combined with crowded aisles, the lights cranked up a notch to be BRIGHT, and the sound of constant slamming doors and people touching me to move me (no, they didn't speak to me, just pushed their carts into my hip when they JUST entered the aisle) became an overstimulating nightmare. It was like Walmart.
So if you gotta go to a supertarget, bring sensitivity earbuds and prepare to get the fuck out of there when you're done. Or just be like me and go back to your local target, with the dim lights and low sound stimuli.
