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cherriesfineline · 3 years

Text

MEET HALFWAY OUR NEEDS - one shot

a/n: hi! this is my first time ever posting one of my writings online (I'm about to shit myself but oh well). I literally wrote this so fast I'm impressed, but anyways I (kind of) proof read this -not really- just quickly read through it after I finished it. English isn't my first language (I'm so self conscious I'm probably gonna say that every time I post something) but besides that, I really hope you enjoy this <3 feedback is truly appreciated, it helps me improve!

-Joey

Pairing: Harry x Y/N

Warnings: detailed sexual content

Word count: 9.2k (of mostly smut??? sorry)

the one where Harry wants to get married but Y/N doesn't.

As you grow older, you start realizing life isn't as easy as it seemed when you were a kid. Not everyone gets lucky enough to have a job they're passionate about. Not everyone can satisfy all their necessities. In fact, you realize it's most people instead of "not everyone". Friendships and relationships won't last you a lifetime (those promises of being there for each other forever now seem like genuine naiveness) if you don't put enough effort in them. When you are young you believe that being able to play for hours straight without getting bored is what true friendship is about. And maybe it is, during those years. Adult relationships require a lot of time, and effort. And sometimes, sacrifice. Conversations have a different weight, and being able to trust someone with your most uneasy thoughts and experiences is hard. To find and to keep. When it comes to love, you start realizing that the thrill and intensity of teen romance isn't what true love is about. It's not about getting into fights, hardcore jealousy and toxicity behaviors. It's about being able to just be there, with that someone. Being able to coexist in each other's worlds, share what you're passionate about without any fear or remorse, being able to communicate. To ask for help when needed. Now, that doesn't mean things can't get complicated. For the past two months, Y/N and Harry's relationship has been balancing on a very, extremely, thin line. After six years of being together, and three of those living together, being the happiest they've ever been, everything started to look different for Harry. He was ready to take a step Y/N wasn't. Harry always knew he wanted to get married, have kids, move to a pretty house outside New York (it's been his favorite city ever since he visited when he was 12, then moving all the way across the globe from Manchester to attend Columbia University). And when he met Y/N, he knew she was the one he wanted all that with. But Y/N... she wasn't so sure that was the life she wanted. Having kids was a no at least until she was in her 30's. And even then, she knew she'd have to re consider if that's what she really wanted. She loves kids, she has a couple nieces a nephew's (coming from a big family has it's perks) and she's a preschool teacher. She's good with kids, but she wasn't so sure she'd be a great mother. Not for a specific reason, but she really feels like that's the case. Taking care of someone else's kids versus your own is extremely different. Now... it gets even more complicated when it comes to marriage. She doesn't believe that a piece of paper kept in a legal's office will make any changes in their relationship. It will all stay the same, married or not, so she just doesn't think it's important, nor worth the money. Harry, on the other hand, thinks marrying her will change everything in his life. For the better. He loves her more than he'll ever be able to put into words. And because he can't put it into words, he feels like it's the actions, small and big, that help him communicate his love a bit better. He still remembers the moment he mentioned marriage to her (not for the first time, but definitely the first time he actually thought 'ok i really want to marry her right now') like it happened yesterday. He remembers exactly what it felt like to physically feel his heart shatter inside his chest, and the way he silently cried himself to sleep that night with Y/N in his arms. "Would you ever, uh... consider g-getting married? like, I don't know, if we ever have, like, an actual conversation about it, would you consider it?" He asked her in the middle of their Lord of the Rings marathon. Harry could feel her intense staring at the side of his face. She was quiet for so long, it killed him. He truly wanted the cushions of their pink couch to just suck him inside the furniture piece. He wouldn't dare to turn his face. He couldn't look at her, no. Not to face the rejection of his lifetime. "Uh, I don't think so." She said, and Harry only nodded, thinking the conversation was over

once he felt her move her head to face the television again. "You know how I feel about you and how I feel about marriage. I honestly think it's useless. You don't need a signed paper to know how much I love you, Harry." Her tone was soft, but the words that left her mouth felt like a million knives inside his chest. That conversation sent him spiraling over a thousand thoughts, overthinking their entire relationship and how he now felt like they were getting nowhere with it. He respected her decision, though. That's why he didn't bring it up again. Y/N sensed his mood change that same night. She kept her mouth shut, because she truly didn't know what to say. She didn't understand where he was coming from, or why it was so important to him. At first, she didn't think his mood was affected because of her not wanting to get married, maybe he had something else going on and was struggling to talk about it, but after many sessions with her therapist going over and over their conversations and trying to decipher why everything was so weird between them, she came to the conclusion it might have to do with them not getting married. She just didn't want it. And she didn't know how to make him understand. But she couldn't lose him either. He was her everything. It took her months to be able to sit next to him like she did the night he was watching The Little Mermaid in the living room of their small New York apartment. It's been months since they last shared a movie night, or a date. They've been eating dinner while having awkward small talk about their jobs and friends, going straight to bed after cleaning everything up, each to their side. They haven't touched each other except the occasional greeting peck ever since that night. And it was killing both of them, but neither knew how to approach the other. As she sat down to his right, she saw him tense immediately. It broke her, to see him so on guard around her. Y/N couldn't look away from him, with her body facing him and her head rested on the back of the couch, she wanted to grab his hand so badly, but she didn't know if he'd reject her. The doorbell rang, and he looked at her for the first time that night. His eyebrows had the cutest frown and she wanted to kiss his forehead to make him relax, but of course, she didn't. She sent him a shy smile and stood up, going straight to the door and picking up the cash she left prepared on the little table next to it. She could feel his stare burning holes in her back, which sent chills down her spine. "Thank you so much." Harry heard Y/N say, immediately hearing the door shut. From where he was sitting he didn't have a clear view on who was on the other side of the door. Y/N made her way to their kitchen (to do God knows what, Harry thought) only to appear seconds after with two tubes of ice cream (from his favorite place) and two big spoons. She sat back down next to him with her legs under her, a little closer than moments ago but still out of Harry's reach. She handed him one of the tubes, and Harry immediately noticed it was chocolate chip mint, his favorite, he might add. He looked up at her, who gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and a side smile, and he couldn't help but smile widely at her, his deep dimples on full display. God, I missed those dimples so bad. Y/N thought. But what she didn't know is that Harry was thinking about how much he missed her. Entirely. He hated himself for overthinking every small detail, and for thinking so lowly of their future. But he couldn't help it. "Thanks." He shyly took the ice cream and started eating right away. Not five minutes later, he grabbed her by her thigh and dragged her next to him, only to have her close to his body. And because he missed her. And her body heat. And her addictive smell of clean soap and vanilla. And a lot of other things which would take a lifetime to enumerate. She looked at him from her new spot, and due to the proximity, she had to shift her head slightly up to look at his face. She slid her right arm around his left,

carefully looking at him to see any kind of reaction that might show discomfort, and when she noticed his smirk slowly and barely making an appearance, she relaxed next to him, fitting half of her body under his arm, with his elbow resting on her stomach and her head on his upper arm. Half way through the movie, with their ice cream tubes forgotten on their coffee table, Y/N looked back up to him, and even though she's been doing it every two minutes, Harry knew she wanted to say something this time. He doesn't look at her, though, thinking it might shy her away, but right when he was trying to concentrate back on the film, he heard her say something. It was barely audible, almost like she didn't want him to hear it. Did he imagine it? Maybe he's so deprived from her and her touch and her words that he's finally going insane. Harry looked at her this time, and looking straight at her grey eyes so closely for the first time in two months felt like a thousand fireworks exploding violently on his stomach. "Did you say something?" He looked at her confused, and the look on her eyes is so hard to decipher he thinks she definitely said something she's scared to repeat. "I miss you." Y/N repeated herself, barely louder. But then he knew for sure he didn't imagine it. His Y/N missed him. For so long Harry thought he was losing her, that after distancing himself from her she finally realized she not only didn't want marriage, but a relationship with him at all. But she missed him. And he missed her. "You miss me?" He asked, almost like he didn't believe her, his tone was low and his voice sounded deeper that ever. Y/N nodded, but she felt pathetic. She felt like he didn't miss her like she missed him, maybe he didn't miss her at all. For two months she's been feeling like he wanted out, that this relationship felt like an obligation to him. Harry felt her slowly sliding away from his arms, and that's when he realized he's been so stuck in his head he still hadn't replied. "Don't," he quickly grabbed her by her thigh with his hand closest to her body "please, don't go." She stayed still in her place, looking at him with soft but sad eyes. "I miss you so much, Y/N." Harry turned on his spot so he's facing her, and softly cupped her jaw with his free hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "You have no idea." He whispered, slowly getting her face close to his while closing his eyes. He kissed her forehead so lovingly she literally burst into tears. Y/N's soft sobs alarmed Harry, lifting her head up by his hold on her jaw. "Please, don't cry baby. It breaks me when you cry." Y/N shifted on her place so she was with her body facing the back of the couch, her knees pressed against it, but she tilted her body to the side so she could hug Harry. She slowly draped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his chest. A sigh of relief left Harry's lips, resting his chin on top of her head while he hugged her back. One of his arms was resting low on her back, while the other one rested on her shoulder, his giant hand cupping her head to softly caress her hair. They stayed in that position for a long time. Y/N could feel Harry's heartbeat, and how it slowly picked up speed when she pressed her lips to his chest. And even though he was wearing a shirt, Harry could feel the heat of her lips through it. He pressed his own lips on top of her head, leaving them there for a while, almost like a very long, still kiss, until he felt her head shift underneath his lips. He pulled away just barely to allow her to look up at him, and when she noticed him quickly looking down to her lips, she stretched her neck up to press their lips together. It was a short, very sweet kiss. With fear as an undertaste and nervousness written all over her. She was just scared he was going to leave. When she pulled away from him, she didn't have time to open her eyes as she felt Harry press their lips together again. This second kiss was almost the same as the first one, insecure. It's funny, if you think about it. How similar their

feelings were and how scared they were of messing everything up with a single wrong move. Once Harry pulled away from the kiss he initiated, they locked eyes, yet again. But this time, it was written all over their faces how badly they missed each other, and how much they dreaded to feel the effects each had on one another after so long. The third kiss they shared, it's initiated from both sides, almost as they were able to read each other's minds. Their lips moved in sync, and as Harry softly captured Y/N's bottom lip between his own to slightly suck on it, she put more pressure into it. The kiss slowly started to gain force, passion and need. But she was scared to take the next step. She wanted him to take the full lead, as opposed to what they were used to, just because she didn't want him to feel like he owed her anything. And then, he did take that step. The hand he had holding her jaw moved under her hair to grab her by the neck, while slowly tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, asking for access to her mouth. And once she allowed their tongues to meet, his hold on her lower back got stronger, draping his arm completely around her waist to pull her closer. That action made Y/N's body lift up from how strong he was holding her, and she took this as a sign to move. She straddled him on the couch, sinking (almost on slow motion) to sit on top of his thighs. Harry groaned in frustration. She's too far away, he thought. "Closer." He said in a pleading tone, and Y/N complied immediately. She slid her body up his thighs, and he forced her chest to collide with his. The hand that was holding her neck slowly traced her entire spine, to join his other one on her lower back. Her tongue felt so warm and soft, so inviting. He had always loved the way she kissed him, with so much passion but with a gentleness that was so her. She managed to fully relax in his hold once her hands found their way to his hair, right behind his ears, and he couldn't help but whimper at the feeling of their groins pressing together. This sparked a burning fire inside both of them. A fire that burned so good they'd rather die caught on it, than to never feel it again. Harry slowly slid his hands up and down her sides, all the way from her outer thighs to her side boobs. And when he did it for the second time, on his way up he slid his hands under her shirt instead of continuing their path over it. When his hands stopped at the higher part of their path, he caressed her side boobs with his thumbs, doing the same afterwards right below them, and when she finally grinded down on him, letting a deep groan leave her lips, he cupped her breasts with his hands. But when she pulled away, he dropped his hands automatically.He started eating his brains out thinking he really messed up, he was taking things down a road she didn't want to take yet, which was okay, it's not like he only wanted her body back, but he was scared he made her uncomfortable. Only then, his dick grew incredibly hard when she grabbed the hem of her oversized t-shirt to pull it up and off her body. Her perfectly perky boobs bounced slightly when Y/N dropped her shirt on the floor, resting her arms on her sides. He looked up from the lovely sight of her boobs thinking about how badly he wanted to devour them, only to find her with an uncertain look on her face. And he hated it. He hated the thought of her doubting herself so much. Harry ran his hands up and down her soft stomach, and then slid them up, softly but barely touching her boobs. His destination was somewhere else (for now), and he grabbed Y/N by her neck to pull her close. Their lips met again in the softest kiss they shared that night so far, and Y/N melted in Harry's arms like the forgotten ice cream behind her. He kissed the corner of her lips as he pulled her hair slightly so he could start kissing her jawline, down to her neck, leaving pepper kisses all over her skin. When he reached her collarbone he started sucking and biting (she loved when he bit her) knowing he couldn't do it to her neck

due to her job. She let a moan leave her lips, and when Harry slid one of his hands to grab her by her hip, she grinded down on him again, with more confidence this time. Harry lowered his face a bit more so he could finally reach one of his favorite features of his Y/N, her boobs. He took her left breast in his mouth, sucking on Y/N's nipple, making her whimper and jerk forward, tightening her hold on his brown locks to pull him even closer. He slid the hand that was holding Y/N's hair down so he could pay attention to both nipples at the same time, while using his hand on her hip to keep a steady peace to her grinding. Once she caught up with the slow but rough peace he wanted, he let go of Y/N's hip to grab the nipple he had in his mouth with in his hand, and he pinched both of them at the same time, rolling the hard buds on his fingers, then moving his mouth to the other one. He spent a lot of time paying attention to Y/N's nipples, nibbling, sucking, groping, knowing damn well they were extremely sensitive (she could orgasm just by nipple stimulation if done correctly, but she really wanted him right now). Y/N pulled from his hair enough to let him know she wanted something else, and when he let her nipple fall from his mouth, he looked straight into her eyes. Harry's cheeks were tinted a pretty shade of pink, and Y/N couldn't help but admire the beautiful man under her. He looked at her with such pure eyes, but lustful at the same time. She didn't understand how he could look so innocent but so fucking hot at the same time, it was unfair how angelic he was. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, to let him know she wanted it off. Once Harry complied, throwing his shirt somewhere near Y/N's, he immediately reached for her cream silk shorts, tugging the elastic band down as a silent plea for her to get out of them for him. She stood up from the couch, knowing Harry loved when she undressed herself for him, and still in between his legs holding eye contact, she slowly slid her shorts down her thighs along with her underwear. Harry couldn't keep eye contact for long, though. His eyes were glued to her glistening core that was slowly making an appearance, and he was getting frustrated at how slow she was being. He sat straighter on the couch so he could reach for her, and slid his hands down the front of her thighs, and on their way up he slowly slid them to their insides, getting close to where she wanted him. He slid one of his hands down again, but this time he grabbed her right leg from behind her knee, to pull it up. He made her rest her feet outside his thigh, which was now in between her legs. In this new position he got a clear view of her pretty pussy, all on display for him. "So wet, baby." He whispered, and she couldn't help but return her hold on his hair to pull him closer to her. "All for me?" Harry asked her, looking up to stare at her right in the eyes. When she nodded, he hummed in response. "Let me take care of you, it's been so long. You probably need it so much, don't you?" His voice was so fucking deep and raspy she nodded desperately in response. Y/N couldn't handle much teasing, and she let Harry know by tightening her grip yet again, and forcing his face to be so close she could feel his breathing on her. "Please, Harry." She pleaded. Harry loved teasing her, but he knew it's been a long time, he didn't want to frustrate her much. He finally licked very slowly up her folds, all the way from her opening to her clit, humming when he reached her sensitive bundle of nerves. Y/N let out a long sigh of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering shut. She felt like she could literally come just by that, and when he closed his lips around her clit, she grind her hips against his lips. He started switching between sucking and pressing his tongue on her clit until he started to move it, creating undefined figures with the tip of his tongue. They missed each other so much, so so much. And they both knew sex wouldn't magically fix everything. They knew they needed to work things out. But

sometimes conversation needs a little push, something to remind them why they need to fix things. The magnetic pull they felt towards each other was unbearably strong. They needed each other, in every imaginable way, but at that moment, they needed each other's bodies and emotion, no words needed. Just feel each other close. Harry gave her clit a sweet kiss, and looked up at her while his fingers traveled up and down her folds, until they found their home in her opening. He searched her eyes for approval, and when she whispered a soft 'please' he slowly sank his ring and middle finger, knuckle deep. She whimpered loud at the sudden pressure, and he groaned at the tightness of her hole. He rested his forehead on her navel for a second to let her adjust, and when he felt her grind on his fingers, he held her gaze while lining his mouth with her clit yet again. Harry started to work his fingers in and out of her, sucking on her clit. But what turned him on the most was her slow grinding on his face and fingers, like she was fucking his fingers nstead of his fingers fucking her. Harry used his free arm to slide it under her leg that was up on the couch, and grabbed her ass with a tight grip to pull her even closer. The pleasure was beginning to feel overwhelming, the pressure deep down on her belly begging for release was making her desperate. Y/N's moans and breathy sighs were becoming louder and consistent and the way he could feel her legs slightly shaking gave away how close she was to her release. Harry wanted her to make a mess on his face, so badly. He lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his tongue, not before he moved his fingers one last time to massage her spongy spot at the front of her insides. He fucked her with his tongue as he used his soaked fingers to stimulate her clit, circling in the fast and rough peace he knew she enjoyed so much. Her insides felt like a rocket about to launch, between his moans sending vibrations through her entire body and his fingers stimulating her clit the way she exactly needed, she became a moaning mess. Y/N couldn't comprehend how she was still standing up, even though Harry's arm under her thigh was holding most of her weight up, her knees were about to give up soon. "H-Harry, I'm so close," Y/N spoke as clearly as possible, knowing her panting was messing with her words, "please don't stop." He admired the way her jaw tightened and relaxed, her mouth opening shortly after, making a perfect 'o' with her eyes pressed shut. With one specific movement of Harry's tongue, she finally let go. With her eyes rolling back she let a couple of continuous 'fuck's quickly leave her mouth. Her entire body jolted forwards, bending a bit over him while his mouth was still attached to her core, helping her ride her orgasm, making it last for as long as possible. Y/N pulled Harry away from her with her grip on his hair once it became too much, and looked down at him. Without a second thought she bent down to lock her lips on his, with so much force it threw him back into his original seated position on the couch. "Take your pants off, now." She demanded, but adding an almost inaudible 'please', mostly for her. He happily obliged, taking his boxers down with them, imitating her previous actions. His cock sprung free, and he hissed at the feeling of freedom. Harry was so focused on her he didn't realize how painfully hard he was. He could feel his own heartbeat thundering in his chest with so much force it was almost alarming. He needed her so, so badly. Once his pants and boxers were thrown and forgotten on the floor, she straddled him. Giving him a quick but soft kiss on the lips, she began making her way down his neck, reaching back up again to (what she knew) was his most sensitive spot behind his ear. Y/N sucked a small bruise, and he whimpered. God, Y/N loved those small noises he made. She kissed her favorite beauty mark on the right side where his neck meets his shoulder, and that small action alone made his heart feel like someone was squeezing and

twisting it. He missed those small loving details from her. Y/N kept making her way down his chest, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses all over him, not forgetting to suck and nibble at his nipples. She loved taking care of him. All of him. And the way he enjoyed her playing with his nipples was something he was always scared of admitting, but he knew he didn't have to ask her to do it, because she just knew. She sunk down to her knees, still sucking and licking the skin all over his stomach while caressing his thighs (Oh, those thighs). Y/N finally grabbed his dick and slowly stroked him all the way from his base to the tip, collecting some of the precum leaking from his deep pink, swollen head. He groaned loudly, lifting his hips to fuck her fist once. She took that as a sign to lower her head even more, his cock now in front of her face. "Want my mouth, baby?" She tapped her plump lips with his tip, and when he looked down at her, she moved her closed lips around him, almost like she was using his precum as lipgloss, her hand still slowly moving up and down his length. She got him hypnotized. "Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Y-yes, please." He heavily sighed. His begging made her drip down her thighs, he knew how much she loved it, and she knew he loved begging too, maybe even more than her. She always took such good care of him. She swirled her tongue around his tip once, then proceeded to lick up his shaft a couple of times like his dick was an ice lolly. Once she finally wrapped her lips around his tip, he sighed in relief, and relaxed his shoulders. Harry's hands grabbed her neck to pull her head down, and she surprised him when she suddenly deep throated him before even working her way there. "Fucking hell, Y/N." He moaned when he felt her humming around him. Harry grabbed her hair making a shift ponytail, to help her get her hair out of the way, and using his grip on it to lift her head, her mouth left his dick, and he smirked at the small pout on her lips. "You are so perfect." She ignored him and tried to lean forward again, which made him smile at how desperate she was. He let her get what she wanted, allowing her lips to wrap around his tip again. She licked up his slit and swirled her tongue around him, and hollowed her cheeks to suck on his tip. She took more of him in her mouth, using her right hand to work on his base and her left to gently cup his balls and play with them. Harry knew he wouldn't last long. It's been a while since they've done anything remotely sexual, and his hand... his hand wasn't her. So even though he could get himself off, nothing in the world would compare to how it felt when it was his Y/N pleasing him. His breathing became irregular as she bobbed her head up and down his length in a steady rhythm, and when she tugged on his balls he knew he had to pull her away right that second, or he would come. And he really wanted to, but not like this. "Baby, please," he tried to pull her head away with a tug on her ponytail, but she didn't oblige. Instead, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, still bobbing her head up and down on him, and that sight alone could make him come in a heartbeat. But he kept it together. "I wanna come inside you, p-please." And that made Y/N pull away, her mouth making a 'pop' sound when she let his dick fall from her lips. She then straddled him, her hands finding their home right behind his ears, grabbing him by his hair, while his made their way around her body, hugging her close. His dick fit perfectly between her lips, and Y/N grinded on him to feel his wet cock slide through her folds, creating the most delicious friction. Harry kissed her passionately, trying to pour everything he felt in the kiss. And Y/N did feel it, because she was trying to do the same. They repeated the action a couple of times until she reached in between them to grab a hold of him, positioning him on her opening. And when she finally sank down on him, they locked gazes. They sat still, connected. They were so close. They felt so close. Harry

nudged her nose with his, softly brushing their lips together. He then noticed a single tear run down her cheek, and reached for her face quickly. Right before it got in her mouth he caught it with his thumb, and she leaned in his touch. They didn't say a word. Just sat still. With Harry caressing her cheek, and Y/N looking straight into his eyes. Y/N leaned forward to capture his top lip between hers, leaving the sweetest kiss, repeating the action with his bottom lip. After, she went for the right corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jawline, his pulse point, behind his ear. And repeated the exact same trail on the left side of his face, finishing with his top and bottom lips, one last time before starting to slowly grind and circle her hips on him. Harry just couldn't stop staring at her. The amount of love and adoration he held in his heart for that woman was beyond words, and actions. And he then understood. He understood that he could live a life without marriage if it meant living it with her. He could handle it. He would get over it. He involuntarily dropped his head back and shut his eyes with so much force, while hissing through gritted teeth when she finally lifted her weight on her knees, sliding up on his dick until he was almost entirely out, only to sink back down roughly, going so deep it made both of them moan loudly at how tight she was. She slid one of her hands around his neck to grab him by his chin, forcing him to look at her. Y/N kissed him again, and this time their kiss was messy and desperate, between crashing teeth and loud moans due to her fucking him with all she got. She let go of Harry's mouth to sit straighter, using his shoulders as support to move faster. This position gave Harry a view he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He could see his cock, so drenched of her arousal, and her pussy taking him so well. The wet sounds leaving their connected centers were magical, so erotic, accompanied with the small whimpers and moans coming out of her perfect lips. Harry thought she looked like a fucking goddess, with her round and perky tits bouncing up and down every time her tight pussy took him entirely. "You're being so good, baby. Letting me fuck you just how I like it." She whispered to him, staring at his heart shaped, swollen lips. The lips she was so addicted to. "You take such good care of me, angel. Always." He replied, looking into her eyes which were still glued to his lips. She licked her own, and moved forward to crash them against his on another messy kiss. They both were so close. Harry couldn't understand how he managed to hold his release for so long, but he was proud of himself. Y/N separated their lips for a moment to make him suck her point and middle finger, which he complied immediately, knowing exactly what she was doing. He then watched her lower her hand between their bodies again, but this time to reach for her clit, where she started to gently rub circles, stimulating herself. Harry started thrusting up with force, to meet her halfway, tightening his grip around her middle. Y/N bit down his shoulder to stifle a loud moan, which only made Harry thrust faster. "Please come for me, Y/N, I wanna feel you come all- all around my cock." He managed to plead between breathy whimpers. And it only took a few more thrusts from him to make her insides explode in the most blissful sensation, like electricity running all the way from her belly to her toes. She stiffens in his hold, her inside walls tightening and clenching so hard it almost sends him out of her, making his balls tighten right before he lets go. She could feel him emptying inside her, his spurts of cum filling her up, leaving both of them exhausted, satisfied and utterly fucked. None of them moved for a while. Y/N's breathing calmed him, almost like a lullaby, and the way Harry was gently stroking her back made goosebumps erupt all over her body. Without any warning, Harry stood up, making Y/N wrap her legs around him, she hissed through the feeling of his dick moving while still

inside her, and she bit down his shoulder again. She didn't question what he was doing, she didn't care. Harry sat her down on a cold surface after turning the lights on, and when she opened her eyes she realized he sat her in their bathroom counter. He put some space between them so he could finally look at her again. The fact that they barely spoke during sex today (when they were usually pretty vocal) made everything so... different. Not in a bad way, though. It made them both enjoy sex as the pure performance of just loving someone. No need of crazy positions, weird kinks or edging each other the way they're used to. Just love. The need to feel connected. The need of physically demonstrating each other's love. How they are each other's entire world. "I'm gonna clean us up, okay?" Harry told her softly, and she only nodded in response. She leaned in to give him a soft kiss, which honestly caught Harry off guard now that the sexual act was over. But made him happy nonetheless. She was scared of him shutting her out again. But he was scared of her getting tired of him. He knew she was a free soul. She wanted so many things, and settling down to start a family like he wanted to wasn't in her near plans, maybe in her plans at all. And he knew that. He understood it, and he respected it. He just thought about how badly he truly wanted that life with her. He was just scared she would let him go. They both looked down and hissed the moment he slid out of her. Harry had the perfect view of their mixed cum dripping down her core, making a mess on the marble counter under her. And Y/N saw his dick twitch at the sight, but decided against commenting on it. Even though it made her slightly smirk. Harry took his time cleaning both of them, and Y/N didn't look away from him. Not even for a second. He lifted her up again and literally sat her down on the toilet so she could pee. They've done this a thousand times, it was normal for them, she wasn't modest about him seeing or listening to her pee. After they brushed their teeth next to each other, stealing curious looks (especially Harry at Y/N's boobs through the mirror), they went to bed together. And for the first time in two months, she rested her head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her. The only thing she didn't notice was that once Harry knew she was asleep, he couldn't keep it in. He cried himself to sleep that night. But it wasn't any different from what he was used to from the past couple of months. The only difference was that this time, he knew he'd give up his dreams if it meant he could keep her around. & The next morning, Y/N felt something, or someone, shift behind her. She knew it was Harry. His arm was thrown over her waist, resting dangerously close to her boobs (she secretly loved the way Harry seemed obsessed with her boobs) and she could feel his breathing hit the back of her neck. She hugged his arm closer to her body to let him know she was awake, which made Harry shift even closer, cup her left breast and press his pretty pink and warm lips to her neck. "Good morning." She said with a breathy laugh, her morning voice was a sound that drove Harry mad. She sounded way too sexy for her (or his) own good. "Hi." He nuzzled her neck with his nose, "how'd you sleep?" He left another lingering kiss, this time below her ear. "Amazing. Haven't slept this good in a while." She replied honestly, wiggling her body back towards him so their torsos were pressing together. "Mhm, me too." He whispered, tightening his hold around her, his morning wood pressing on her lower back. She could already feel the pool of her arousal in between her legs, and when she arched her back so now his dick was pressing against the curve of her ass, he groaned in her ear. He slowly started to grind himself against her ass, moving down on the bed a bit so he could better his position. And when she grinded back against him, he reached in between them to position himself on her opening. He pushed the tip in, just enough to feel her tight hole around

him. "Can I?" He asked her to make sure they both wanted this. When she sighed deeply in pleasure and murmured a 'yes', he slowly thrusted into her, both moaning a bunch of profanities. They both were huge lovers of morning sex. It increased their moods during their days, helped them relax and carry their days with a carefree feeling. So, he fucked her. Hard. Not even close to how loving they were last night. He woke up with an unbeatable energy, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He fucked her in the position they woke up in. He turned her to her stomach and fucked her while (almost) laying completely on top of her (she loved feeling his weight on her) and he fucked her on all fours, only to end up in their initial position, with her back against his chest on their sides, so he could play with her clit to help her come. That morning they spent it in bed, Y/N made them breakfast, Harry read a book. They both knew they needed to talk, but they wanted to enjoy some time where everything felt normal between them again. So they avoided the topic. But the conversation they owed each other kept being pushed. And for another two months, everything slowly started to feel normal again. Usually, avoiding conversation will lead up to more hurting. But with Y/N and Harry, it ended up becoming a realization point. Harry got in terms with the fact they wanted different things. He decided she was worth anything and everything in the world, because she was his world. But what he didn't know was that Y/N spent those entire two months imagining what a life like the one Harry wanted with her would be like. And after one day, on Harry's 28th birthday, during a small walk they were taking on Central Park, she realized she would do anything in the world to make him the happiest man he could ever be. She kissed him so passionately that day, interrupting their walk. He looked at her with a confused look when she pulled away with the brightest smile on her face. But that smile made him confirm he was willing to give up his dream of getting married. That's why in mid February, Y/N found herself shopping in a very expensive jewelry store. She knew Harry liked that place since his 'H' and 'S' rings were from there. They had an amazing section of handmade rings that she spent a long time going through. She wanted to pick the best one she could find. She found the prettiest, most fine silver ring with a red stone adorning it's top. She knew he would love it. It definitely didn't look like the typical engagement ring, but nothing about Harry was typical. It would match the rest of his rings lovingly, and Y/N knew he would simply love it. Not only because it was a pretty ring, but because it would mean something big for them. Three days later, Y/N came back from work to find Harry sitting on their living room couch watching the forecast. Why? Who the fuck knows. He never watched cable TV. Y/N just stood there for a while, just staring at him. "Hi, love." He greeted her. "Are you alright?" He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. The crease between them made an appearance, even though it was there most of the time. "Hey." She finally moved, dropped her keys on the little bowl sitting on top of the small table in the hallway. "All good, gonna put some comfy clothes on really quick." She lied. She just couldn't wait any longer. Watching him sit there all frustratingly beautiful doing absolutely nothing was fucking annoying, it was so unfair how beautiful he was. She had an entire evening prepared but she just couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to do it now. She dropped her purse on their bed and quickly got rid of her shoes, but didn't change into anything comfier. She just grabbed the small black velvet box from her t-shirt drawer and went back to the living room, sliding it in the back pocket of her jeans so he wouldn't be able to see it. Harry looked at her with a confused look, wondering why she was still in her work clothes walking directly to him when she said she wanted to change. She sunk to her knees in

between his legs, which only made him even more confused. "You sure you're alright?" Harry gently asked her. She just hummed in response and grabbed the remote sitting on the coffee table (moving as little as possible, she didn't want him seeing the small bump on her jeans because she knew he would ask about it), and turned back around. She rested her ass on her ankles, and her arms on top of his thighs. "So..." she started. "So..." Harry repeated, confused. "I love you, so very much." Y/N started and Harry's breath got caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting this at all. "So much, you don't even understand." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. They haven't told they loved each other in so long, scared of the other not saying it back. God only knows why, because it was clear as water they still loved each other with their whole beings. "And I know we both always wanted different things." This is it. Harry thought. She's breaking up with me. "And I know there are some things I believe that you will never understand, and there are some things I- I didn't understand, for a long time." Harry furrowed her eyebrows further at this last part. Now he truly didn't understand what she was trying to say. "For so long I thought I wanted something, you know? Like I was sure I had it all figured out for myself, the life I wanted. But I actually- I was searching for a life that wasn't mine. And I didn't realize that what I already have is everything I could possibly want." Y/N's cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down her face so fast they were drenching his hands that were now pressed against her cheeks, softly caressing them. "I know now, that love is about finding common ground. Meeting each other's needs. And sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zone to do that. And I came to a conclusion." She swallowed the big lump on her throat, and that finally allowed her to let a long breath leave her chest. "I love you more than anything in this world. I hope you know that, and I know I struggle sometimes with letting you know how much I adore and admire all of you. But I promise to do my best today, and for the rest of my life, to make sure you know how loved you are. How much I'm willing to do for you. And this took me a while to understand, but I do now. I understand why you felt like you needed to take that 'next step' with us. And I understand why it'd make you as happy as you always said. So, it'd make me really happy to ask you to," Y/N reached her pocket and heard him gasp when she pulled the box in front of him, revealing a beautiful ring for him, "marry me." Harry was speechless. Truly, ultimately speechless. Not only was the love of his life asking him to marry her, she was saying she truly wanted this. Harry's gaze kept going from the ring back to her eyes. And after a while of no one saying anything, Y/N cleared her throat. "H," she whispered, "Will you marry me?" She asked, the soft tone on her voice and the question he dreamed so many times asking her knocked him back to life. "Yes, yes, Y/N, yes- oh Y/N-" he choked a sob, and the biggest smiles appeared on both their faces. Y/N threw herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck so tightly. He helped her straddle him so he could wrap his own arms around her. They held each other for a few seconds, both crying the happiest tears they ever let drop, and when she pulled away to put the ring on him, he surprised her by crashing their lips together. They shared their most passionate kiss in the entirety of their relationship, both still crying, smiling, spilling so much love and adoration with each stroke of their tongues. When he pulled away, she finally placed the box in between them again. "Can I put it on you? I know you like to wear your 'H' ring on your ring finger, so we could put it somewhere else, you know? And make it our own thing-" Harry interrupted her giving her a soft peck, "or we could-" another kiss, "I don't know." She finally gave in, pressing her lips harder against him. After another long kiss, he finally told her

where he wanted his ring, and with a last kiss he patted her ass to let her know he needed her to stand up. "Wait here." He pointed at her, and she sat on the couch with a soft 'okay'. He returned moments later with his hand behind his back and a lopsided smirk. He sat in the same position she was for her proposal, in between her legs. Before he said anything, he moved his hands in between them, opening a red velvet box. She gasped like Harry did moments ago when she saw the beautiful ring with a small red stone (yes! Like his own ring) placed on top of a very thin and delicate silver band that was sitting inside the small box. "It was my grandmother's." Harry said in a quiet tone. "She gave it to me before she passed away a couple months after we met, remember?" She slowly nodded, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. There was so much love written all over his face. "I told her you were it for me. I knew I wanted this with you ever since we met at our university library. She gave it to me in hopes I could... give it to you some time." He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I kept it hidden from you all this time. Didn't want you to find it and make everything weird between us. But I'd really love if you could, um... wear it if you want?" He shyly asked. "It'd be an honor to carry her ring with me, Harry." His face lit up so fast at her response. "Yeah?" He asked, perplexed. "Yeah." Y/N replied with a big smile. "Will you marry me, Y/N?" He asked her this time, and she couldn't help but giggle. "I asked you first." She pecked his lips. "But yes, Harry. I'll marry you." And she kissed him again, and he couldn't help but smile so widely she ended up with her lips against his teeth. After putting his grandmother's ring on her, they shared another night of pure, loving sex. None remember how many times they made each other come, but they did have another important conversation between rounds. "Something else I wanted to tell you..." She said, in between kisses (they loved giving each other soft small pecks all over each other while they were talking). She was straddling him in their bed, his back against the headboard. He didn't want to pull out of her just yet, keeping his cum inside her for as long as possible. "I know you're ready to have kids, like, right now." She said, and he raised his eyebrows playfully at her. "I can tell by your breeding kink, honestly." He let a loud laugh leave his chest, making her smile too. It was honestly hilarious, I mean, look at their position. "I decided I really want to have kids with you." He gasped, "But..." he sunk down in his position, a visible pout on his lips, which she kissed away from him. "Promise me you'll wait for me, until I'm in my 30's" He locked eyes with her. She really wanted this. So much. "Only three more years?!" He asked with so much hope. "Three more years and we can start trying, I promise. I just thought that- that we could get married now, have some time as a married couple, you know? To enjoy ourselves." She shrugged and he couldn't help but smile widely and her, nodding frantically. "That way we are both adapting to each other, you know? Meet halfway our wants." "God, I love you so much." He chose to say, instead of replying straight away. "I'll wait a lifetime to have kids with you if that's what you wanted, just please- decide before you reach menopau-" He couldn't even finish his sentence since she shut him up by putting her hand over his mouth. "Don't even say it. God, I don't wanna be old." She sighed in frustration. "I honestly can't wait to grow old with you." Harry said with such a loving tone, like an enamored teenager, hugging her closer to him. And she couldn't help but smile back at him. Because even though ageing scares her, she's ready to spend the rest of her life with him. "I love you, my angel." Y/N told Harry, before kissing his lips, yet again.

"I love you, my Y/N." Harry whispered to her, keeping her face close to his.

Thank you so much for reading! Have a lovely day <3

-Joey

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry smut #my writing

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momentofmemory · 4 years

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it’s almost the end of october, which means one of the greatest, most terrifying exploits known to writers is upon us: NaNoWriMo.

there are plenty of super good survival posts out there, but as this’ll be my seventh time participating (six wins, hoping for a seventh), i thought i’d drop my own set of tips into the mix. i’m going to focus mostly on the practical details of how to write; if you want tips on the writing itself either search the writing/reference tags or pester me to do another one later :P with that said, ~on with the post~

Step One: Figure Out Your Goal

i know, i know, obviously it’s to write 50k, but what does that mean to you? are you expecting

polished prose, ready to send off to a publisher?

being able to write every day?

just throwing up a bunch of ideas?

a mix of everything?

all of these are valid, but they’re going to require different approaches. if you want jaw-dropping writing, you’re going to need in the ballpark of five or more hours each day, if not more. if you want consistency, you’ll want to look at your normal schedule and set up a couple times you know you can write at. if just you want words, pretty much all you need to make sure is that you squeeze writing time in whenever.

your goal will probably change as the month progresses, and that’s totally fine. just check in every so often to remember a)what you’re working for and b)if it’s actually plausible. speaking of...

Step Two: Realize Your Limitations

1. Typing.

imma get super practical here: your typing speed dictates how fast you can get done. if you write 40wpm (the average), you cannot write the full 1667 in a half hour any more than you can run a mile in under three minutes. it’s honestly not a bad idea to check out your own speed, if only to help you understand yourself better. in my experience, actual writing then works like this (using my max speed, 89, as an example):

Absolute Max: 89 wpm (baseline)

Warring: 70 (75% of baseline)

In the zone: 45 (50% of baseline)

Taking my time, concentrated: 22 (25% of baseline)

anything lower than your max/4 probably means you’re spending a lot of time either researching or staring at the page, so just be aware of that.

2. Time & Focus

this kinda goes without saying, but best case scenario this is at least 1-2 hours of your life a day, or dedicating full Saturday/Sundays if you’re a weekend warrior kind of person. it’s so, so worth it if you can make time for it, but also don’t feel bad if you can’t! doing a half nano (25k) or whatever you want is also a fully acceptable plan.

that said, if you do have time, figure out your focus too. if you’ve never been the kind of person that can type for six hours straight, you will probably not magically become this person when it hits Nov. 1 (though with practice, you might be by Nov. 30). i like trying to write at least 300 before work and another 300 during lunch. that way there’s only 1k left for the evening, and having words on the page just makes me feel better. experiment with different ways of blocking out your time in the first few days and see what works best for you.

3. Don’t Forget You Live in a Body

writing is hard work, you will need to eat brain food! hunching over wrecks your back, stand up and stretch every so often! you will hate existing if you forgo sleep for days! and for the love of charles dickens, patron saint of getting paid by the word, take care of your mother-effing wrists!!

seriously on that last one. i’ve ignored it in the past and thoroughly screwed up my wrists one year; don’t be me. keep in them in a neutral position, do regular stretches, and if you need to, get wrist wraps (i recommend these).

Step Three: Actually Doing the Thing

the previous steps have had pretty broad advice, but now it’s time to get down to the nitty-gritty. these are mostly things i know work for me, and therefore may not for you—adjust to your own needs!

1. Write for 15 Minutes Every Day, Non-Negotiable.

i don’t even mean this is a “write 15 min and then your brain will be tricked into writing more” kinda way, but like, literally. you’re probably not going to be able to do 1667 every day—sometimes you’ll be tired and just won’t have the time. you’re very likely, however, to have 15 minutes, and you’ll want to use them. Doesn’t matter if you write 50 words or 500 in that time, at least you’ll have done something, and that’s usually enough to keep you from feeling like just giving up the next day.

2. You Might Need Physical Spaces

i’m a pretty sensory person when it comes to writing, and having a dedicated writing space is so helpful for me. going back to the idea of being an embodied person, it’s a lot easier to get your brain into a writing mode if your body’s already there. some good options include:

coffee shops (cozy! food!)

a specific room in your home (easily accessed! do what you want!)

libraries (free! quiet!)

a friend’s house (writing buddy! easy access to sounding board!)

all of these places usually have access to wifi, which is a positive.

3. You Definitely Need Digital Spaces

i pretty much always write in the same processor, once again because it helps set the mood. the main options include:

google drive (solid choice, cloud backup, mobile accessible)

dabble writer (cloud backup, links to nano, dark mode, chapter options)

write or die (only for actual writing—a scary but effective motivator; save elsewhere)

word/pages/etc. (ready to go on your computer, formatting options)

scrivener (great plotting tools, detailed interface)

i use dabble writer myself (they’re a nano sponsor, so you can get it free for this month, and as a double bonus you get it half off for the rest of the year if you win). and no, i’m not getting paid to wax poetic about them, but honestly i’ve used it to win the past two years and i adore it.

anyway my biggest tip here is that i SUPER SUPER DON’T RECOMMEND NON-CLOUD OPTIONS. it’s very risky, but if you must, do a proper back up at least once a week. that shiz is not worth it.

4. The Timer is Your New Best Friend

because i’ve heard this argument before: no, it’s not a crutch, and no, it’s not cheating. it’s literally best practices. i’m personally a big fan of this online timer, and i let it run for 15 min every time i write. after each session i check how many words i wrote, then after maybe a quick 1-2 min break, start over.

you can totally set the timer for longer or shorter periods, depending on what works for you. i’m a fan of the 15 min sessions bc it’s just long enough to get a bit of flow going, and just short enough that i can convince my spacy brain that we can get through it without wandering. it’s also a fantastic length for warring, if you’re down for that.

5. Write That Idea Down for Lewis’s Sake

the original idea for the chronicles of narnia came to c.s. lewis when he was at a restaurant, and thank the lord, he wrote it down on a napkin. he wouldn’t write it until some time later, but if he hadn’t written it down, he might’ve forgotten it. why is this important, you ask?

BC YOU WILL FORGET THINGS.

if you have an idea, write it down in your phone or your notebook or the waterproof paper in your shower, because i don’t care how sure you are that you’ll remember it, you super won’t. i’ve forgotten many solutions to plot holes in my time and i still hold vigils over their graves. don’t be me. write it down.

Step Four: Managing that Inner Critic of Yours

all right, pay attention. i’m not going to tell you not to edit, because i would be a massive hypocrite if i did. i totally edit during nano. the important part is letting your editor help you win, not hurt you. and that means gaming your critic’s system.

1. Have a Dedicated Deletion Section

many people hear “don’t delete anything” and baulk, because for some of us it’s distracting and we want to rewrite that section until it matches our vision. so, i’m here to tell you: delete it!! rewrite entire chapters!! just save the original content as part of your word count. this is another reason i love dabble, bc at the start of nano i just make a separate part of the book, label it “delete”, and any time i’m writing and dislike a sentence/paragraph i just dump it into that folder and move on. this way you still get to keep the numbers (and why shouldn’t you? you wrote them!) while also writing words you actually like. plus, sometimes that line you deleted in ch. 1 winds up being supremely pertinent in ch.15, and now you can just copy/paste it instead of having to try to remember what exactly you’d said.

2. Acknowledge Ranting as a Time Honoured Tradition

think there’s no precedent for that 2K diatribe you wrote on the london underground? well fear not, because you can’t possibly do worse than hugo’s entire chapters worth of content on the french sewer system! or melville’s frankly terrifying obsession with the finer features of whale biology!

like, yeah, maybe you’ll decide later you don’t need it, but for now, embrace that soap box. dead white guys have been doing it for centuries and still get places in college syllabi. the least you can do is give it a place in your word count.

Step Five: Have Fun!

i know, i know, it’s cliche, but seriously. if this isn’t fun, or at least rewarding, why are you doing it anyway? so enjoy it! send passages you’re proud of to your friends! daydream about it in the car on the way to work/school! cry over a notebook about the twist you just came up with! nano’s a time of fun and exploration, and you shouldn’t miss out on it because you’re thinking too much.

also, this might be counter productive to put at the end of an essay on nano, but don’t obsess over reading essays on nano :P there comes a time when one must simply do, and nano is pretty much the definition of that.

#nanowrimo #writing tips #writing #reference #writing advice

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fayedolan · 5 years

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Rehab so far has been a mixed bag. Half the nurses and aides leave much to be desired, but all the doctors and therapists have been awesome. The nearly nonexistent cell reception is making me paranoid that I’m missing important calls, but it has been a nice reprieve lol And I hate that the cafe closes at 6pm, but it’s suuuuper inexpensive, so it evens out. All in all, 7/10, would recommend on a limited basis lmao

Sunday the 16th: I went home to grab more stuff for Mom - clothes and toiletries and a laundry basket. The Kessler Institute is in NJ, but we live on Long Island. I took an Uber to the Orange station, NJ Transit to Penn Station, LIRR to Babylon, and then an Uber home... for a grand total of 3 hours 😵 At least the NJ Transit train was a double decker, which I hadn’t ridden since I was a kid, so that was fun. And weekend crowds are always the best, more families and people who don’t do public transit frequently so they’re mostly wide-eyed lol There was a family sitting behind me, and most people would probably have found the kid annoying af because he talked nonstop, but after spending the weekend in an antiseptic building with a lot of older patients and indifferent staff, the kid was a breath of fresh air. It was nice to be among people for a bit - part of the reason why I enjoy traveling and commuting. Anyway, I got home with just enough time to pack, finish one piece of paperwork, shower, and straighten my hair. Because I was traveling with a large suitcase and I'm too small to put it in the overhead, my dad's old boss agreed to drive me back to NJ - a testament to her kindness and fondness for my dad. Even though we hit traffic, we still got there quicker than our ambulette transport lol She even got home in an even shorter period of time!

Monday the 17th: We hit the ground running. Mom had occupational, physical, and speech therapy from 10:30 to 2:30, with an hour break for lunch. She was off the vent for two hours total, one in the afternoon and one at night. I wrote a ton of emails inside and made even more phone calls outside. Both Mom and I were exhausted by day's end.

Tuesday the 18th: Mom had an early start, with a video swallow thing at 9am and followed immediately by her therapy sessions at the same times as the day before. Her OT therapist let me join her morning session in the gym to observe and help out a bit. Mom finally got her first proper shower since the accident. She got into bed early. Oh, and she was off the vent the whole freakin’ day! She was allowed to be off for three-hour intervals, but surprised everyone when she did all her therapy sessions and went the whole afternoon without any distress. Everyone kept calling her a rockstar lol

Wednesday the 19th: I went home for a long day of errands. The commute home was pleasant and lasted from about 8:20 to 10:45am, half an hour shorter because I caught an express on the LIRR as soon as I got off NJ Transit. I emptied the mailbox, took a shower, made lunch, and fixed my hair as soon as I got home. Around 2:30, one of Mom’s coworkers, a younger 20-something girl, picked up me to go to:

the post office where I re-mailed the title to Mom’s car because I got the address wrong and it was sent back;

the grocery store where I bought Mom’s shampoo and conditioner;

DSW where I returned one pair of shoes and picked up another;

Old Navy where I bought Mom 5 men’s large sweatpants, 3 men’s large polos, 1 men’s large sweater, and 1 women’s XL sweater because everything I brought from home was too small and tight to accommodate everything she wears underneath lol;

and finally the bank where I spent an hour submitting my power of attorney papers for Mom’s account and starting to close Dad’s.

I’d hoped to catch a 6:03 train to Penn, but took so long at the bank that I ended up catching one 30 minutes later, which ofc meant I caught the NJ train that was delayed 🙃 Even worse, I got stuck sitting across from these two college girls who wouldn’t stop talking about their obviously upper class lifestyle: all the places they’ve been to, things they’ve done, people they know. I literally wanted to hurl on them. At least the Uber to the rehab facility was nice because it had been foggy all day, even on Long Island, but it was especially thick at night up in the mountains, so it was super pretty lol I got back to Mom’s room around 9pm. She approved of my clothing choices for her, thank god lmao

#postapril24 #i started writing this on Tuesday and gdi i was gonna finish it lol

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jo-the-schmo · 6 years

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So this was what my retreat was like

My school does this thing for the incoming seniors. You have to go through with it in order to graduate, they’re serious about it. The incoming seniors are separated into 3 groups. One goes at the end of Junior year, one goes during the summer, one goes at the beginning of senior year. I went on the summer one (obviously).

Anyways, before you go on the retreat, they give you a paper with some rules on it. Some basics are that you can’t bring snacks, wear leggings, etc. You are also not allowed to bring any electronics, no watches either.

So my group meets at school, there’s 35 of us, and we take a bus up to the grounds (which ironically was 15 minutes from where I live with my dad). This place is on essentially a golf course with some extra foliage. There are religious statues and crosses everywhere. (I probably should’ve established that I go to a Catholic school) There’s a chapel in the main building too.

We were then all given name tags with our names and a number on them. The number represented the “small group” you were in. My group was Group 4, including me and my small group leader, there were 3 girls and 4 boys (this is important for later). You sit with your small group and are given a paper folder and a medium sized notebook with a blue pen. You get sent to put all your stuff away in your rooms, it’s a single room so no one shares.

During the first day, we experienced the first 5 of 16 “witness talks”. A witness talk is a real life story with a sort of moral behind it told by either one of the student group leaders or the teachers in attendance. A student group leader is either someone who attended the first retreat for my senior class or one from the last retreat from the graduate class btw. Every talk has a theme to the moral, some are religious and some are social. This will be the case for the other 16 too. We also go through the first small group session. In these sessions, your small group, with the leader, go into a room with only each other and light a candle while sitting on the floor. Our room was almost all windows so I at least had some nice views. In these sessions, your group members individually answers some questions that were given after certain witness talks. These questions are extremely varied with depth and meaning. This is also presented to be a time where you talk about your life and your relationship with god. At the end of it, you’re all supposed to hug. This is where my first problem was presented. I don’t like hugs, and I’ll explain that later. So immediately, people are already uncomfortable with me (except for my one guy friend who knew what was going on) because I was rejecting everyone’s hugs. Blah blah blah, we ate and went to bed.

Now here’s where things got kinda tricky for me. The second day rolls around, and I’m really feeling my depression. I have insomnia and get really bad dark thoughts at night so that notebook they gave me is full of weird. (I also do that throughout the day). The leaders and teachers wake you up by playing loud music and screaming up and down the halls. I get ready, I go out, we eat breakfast and all that. So this is another real not good for me, Reactions. After a certain amount of talks, your group leader says that everyone from every group has to go up to a podium and tell everyone there what you took from it and how it relates to your life, they call these Reactions. This gave me a panic attack and made my student leader have to calm me down from the floor of the girl’s bathroom. I’m given special permission to not have to do any of the Reactions if I don’t want to. So we go about our day similar to the last one with a small break to explore the grounds and such. I decided in the next small group session to open up just a little. I admitted that I don’t personally have a relationship with god like most of the people there, that I have hereditary depression and anxiety, and that I have DID. I didn’t get into the specifics, it was mostly just get it out of the way so it wouldn’t be an issue. But then came the letters. At the end of the day, you sit in the chapel in the dark with everyone while two of the teachers read off letters from your parents. My dad doesn’t know how to be serious so I appreciated how funny he made his. They tell you to go back to your rooms after it’s all over and when you get there, lying on your bed are more letter from other people. This was one of the only parts I liked, I thought it was cute even though it made me cry a little. Anyways, so I cry myself to sleep and all that.

Day 3, oh boy, it’s the worst day. First off, at this point, I was feeling like shit. We get up to go to breakfast and I’m complaining to my friends that I feel like I’m gonna be sick. On my tray I only have a hashbrown, half a slice of bacon, and a small cup of coffee. I try eating and it literally took me two minutes to swallow a corner off the hashbrown. A different student leader notices that I look in pain and asks me what’s wrong. I tell her that I don’t feel well and at this point it’s not just because I feel sick. So far, everyone has pegged that I don’t wanna be here, that this whole thing makes me upset. She tells one of the teachers that I’m not well and I’m sent to my room to lay back down for a while. I end up missing all of breakfast, a few of the witness talks, and lunch before they have me get back up and try and participate. Then I notice that I’m shivering a lot, I ask my friend to see if I feel warm and I do. I tell a teacher and see checks my temperature, I come out at 100.6 degrees F which although is a low grade fever, it’s still not good. They give me some Tylenol to reduce my fever and another small rest time. (My student leader was also checking on me throughout the day) I eat dinner by myself before going back to join my group. Okay now let’s just skip to the worst part of this whole thing, Open Prayer. Your group and leader go back to your session room, turn off the lights (it’s dark outside at this point) and are instructed to take turns having a conversation with god while everyone listens. No responds or makes comments about what you say, you just say it by picking up this cross thing when you’re ready. Here’s my issue, I hate talking about my feelings to people I don’t trust or in general, but I feel an overwhelming sense of obligation. Side story, I have this problem a lot, and a similar thing happened in my junior retreat (which was just a shorter version of this one). On Junior Retreat, I felt obligated to open up and that if I didn’t, I wasn’t trying hard enough. So, when I tried to open up, I got freaked out and ran out of the room in a panic. I was missing for 15 minutes and no one knew where I was. What they didn’t realize was that I was just in the bathroom down the hall, banging my head against the tiled wall and begging for their mute god to kill me while I hyperventilated. They didn’t find me until I got myself up and looked for them. Now you see why this isn’t really good for me, yeah? Okay, back to Senior Retreat. I feel that same bout of obligation after most of my group shared their most personal life stories while having a one sided conversation. So, I picked up the stupid cross thing and rambled about how I didn’t understand how anyone could do something like this, how I don’t know how to just say it, my frustration with that, that I don’t want people to understand me because it means that they feel what I feel, that this bad thing has happened so many times so it shouldn’t hurt me anymore but it does, my fear of admitting what happened because I don’t know how men will react to it, and finally the one thing that I never want people in my real life to know about. Now some of you already know, but I was sexually assaulted my freshman year. I don’t talk about it, I get uncomfortable when people who aren’t my therapist bring it up, and that’s why I hate hugs, I admitted that to them. Hugs make me feel trapped, it’s not their arms wrapped around me anymore, it’s his, it’s not their innocent intentions anymore, it’s his. I didn’t feel better to finally have other people hear it, no weight was lifted from my shoulders, I felt sick. I feel wrong, I feel compromised, and worried. Most of the guys in my group seemed more hesitant to talk to me after that. After some reflection time in the chapel, we were sent to bed. I wanted nothing more than to die in my sleep because this all felt like too much.

But then the next day came, the last day of the retreat. There isn’t much to say about it. We wrapped up, went back to the school, had a ceremony where we get these metal necklaces with crosses on them, and watched a moments reel the teachers made. I was hardly in any of the pictures because I cry when I’m not ready to have my picture taken, especially when I’m not wearing makeup. Everyone was supposed to go up to a podium and say what they learned from the experience, was allowed to not go up, my dad was actually glad I didn’t because he knows me at this point. The teachers were completely disappointed. Out of all the students, I was the most against this whole thing and they’ve never seen someone leave the experience hating it. They were waiting for me to have my moment where I suddenly got it, where I felt better. They asked me if I got anything, I said I wasn’t sure because I didn’t want me Dad to yell at me for saying nothing, they asked how I felt, I was allowed to be honest and say not good, and then I went home. I took off the stupid necklace and haven’t touched it since.

I left out some of the weird shit we did like lick some salt from our hand while holding a candle, the moments where all 35 of the students hugged each other while I sat awkwardly and hoped no one would ask, the arms around the backs during a bonding session that I had to decline, the letters my group wrote to me where the basically didn’t know what to tell me and things like that. I might post some of the pictures from my notebook so y’all can see how genuinely fucked I was during the whole thing. I actually lost my mind a little bit and still can’t keep track of time because you never knew what fucking time it was in there and I never wanna hear someone unironically say “God Units” ever again.

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wellpersonsblog · 3 years

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I Tried to Ride a 100 Mile Bike Race and Almost Died (Here’s What I Learned)

Note from the author: This Thanksgiving, we’re all living through extraordinary times and many of us are dealing with unbelievable hardship and loss due to COVID-19. I want to share a story that I hope will inspire you to reflect and give thanks for the little things in our life, no matter how difficult circumstances may be today.

Like many members of the NMA community, I started as a runner. Then I moved into yoga, strength training, and exploring the mountains I call home in Boulder, Colorado.

But until recently, I hadn’t ridden a bike since high school.

Nonetheless, my uncle told me about a century ride for which he was organizing a team to raise money for Type 1 Diabetes research. So without much thought, I committed.

Then I learned what a century ride even was: 100 miles… on a bike I didn’t even have… with six weeks to train.

Without any other options, I did what felt the most logical at the time: dive straight into the deep end.

I bought a road bike (apparently, that’s a thing), and spent as many “hours in the saddle” as I could, learning from whatever experience the ride threw at me:

I bonked, and had to learn about nutrition to fuel endurance training.

I got tire flats (3 in just 10 rides, and learned to change a tire by watching youtube on the side of the road.)

I got stung by a bee (I’m allergic), and forced myself to stay calm while I rode 20 miles back to town.

And, I fell in love with a new sport.

While training, I had clear visions of writing a blog post recapping exactly what I did and how you could too. I was psyched, passionate, and riding high.

When race day came, I started confidently, knowing that I had reached 84 miles on my longest training ride. I knew I’d finish the full 100, so I started focusing on the time and aiming to beat my best pace… I passed the 50 mile mark in less than 2.5 hours. I was on track to accomplish a sub 5 hour finish. (Nothing special for seasoned riders, but a personal goal.)

At mile 64, my race ended when I crashed, breaking my nose and eye socket bones, and impaling a plastic part of my sunglasses into my cheek.

Oh, and I exposed the bone in my nose. When I heard the EMT call for a helicopter, because the ambulance would take too long considering my condition, I was left wondering if I was going to make it home to my 1-year-old son.

Here’s what happened, what it taught me, and why more than ever, I believe failure should be your best friend…

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The Setup: Training for a 100-Mile Ride in Just Six Weeks

What started as a wild idea quickly became reality when I realized I had just six weeks to train. So I figured I had two options:

Tell my uncle that I didn’t have time to train and wouldn’t be riding with him.

Start riding my bike as much as possible, while fulfilling my duties as a parent, with more than one job, and allowing for muscle recovery between training sessions.

I figured I’d start by testing myself with just a 20 mile ride. I had no conception of what that would even feel like, so, I figured, if I can do 20, I’ll put off quitting for a little longer.

I did the 20 (slowly), and four days later, I tried 30 miles…

And every 3-5 days, when my legs felt rested, I increased the length by 10 miles…

Before long, I was doing real mileage — 50, 60, 70 miles, and with two weeks to go before the race, I completed my final long ride of 84 miles.

I was feeling so strong and confident that I began setting goals in my mind: I wanted to finish in under 5 hours — average pace of 20 miles per hour.

And even though I had only been on the bike more or less 10 times, I felt that I could do it…

I even wrote down some tips, intending to write an NMA post that focused entirely on the training:

Don’t try to put together your own training plan, without consulting any books, experts, or friends. You’ll miss basic tips, like “eat constantly so you don’t run out of energy and crash.” (At the time, I meant “crash” as in “bonking”, not physically crashing.)

If you’ve never taken apart a bike, don’t wait until the night before the race to take apart your bike and try to fit it into a special shipping bag for the plane ride.

A small amount of caffeine is great at the end of the ride.

Start with slower-carbs (like Bobo Bars, PB&J’s, or this recipe for energy balls) earlier in the ride. Save gummies and gels for the end, if needed. It’s easier on your stomach; provides a better foundation for fueling past 50 miles; and, at the end of the race, you’re dry mouth won’t want to eat another “bar”, so sugar in drink or gummy form worked better for me. Tip: While the whole-food plant-based solution to workout energy, Plant Bites, weren’t a thing when I tried for this race, they are now. And they’re awesome.

The Glory: When Things Go Right

Early in the race, I was learning how to ride in a peloton. I had never ridden in a group, working together to save energy as we push against the wind.

“Wind,” as it turns out, is a factor when riding a bike.

It was a blast. The person at the front of the group would push hard for 5-7 minutes, breaking the wind for all of us behind. When they were wiped, they’d peel off and line up at the back. The next rider would take the lead.

When it was my first turn, I was more than a little nervous. The guy peeled off and said, “Just keep us at a nice 23 mph.” I responded, “I don’t have an odometer, so that’s one issue. And either way, I can’t keep a 23 mile per hour pace!”

He smiled and said, “We’ve been doing 23 miles an hour this entire time…”

I had a surge of energy… which was short lived, because leading the pack is tough work! I don’t think that I lasted a full 5 minutes before the guy behind me said, “Thanks for the pull. I got it.” I probably wasn’t keeping pace…

My only other memory was a prescient one:

I thought to myself, “I’m right on the wheel in front of me — just inches away — going 20+ MPH. This peloton stuff is dangerous. If I fall, that would be really bad. Just don’t take down Glen.” (That’s my uncle, who organized 100+ riders for the day.)

The Fall: Taking Down Uncle Glen, and Nearly Taking My Own Life

Sadly, I took down Uncle Glen….

When I crashed, he was right behind me, and then went right over me. And then went to the hospital with me.

That was one of the worst parts of the entire ordeal; the other was seeing my wife’s reaction to my mangled face.

“Losing” in an (internal) competition is tough. Not finishing is generally worse. Ending in the hospital is really bad…

After my face smashed into the pavement, my first thought was, “I’m not OK. I need to call Adriana.” (My wife.)

There is a tremendous amount of blood flow going to the brain. When you hurt your head, it’s very bloody. If you’ve ever broken your nose, you know how extreme it can be.

Blood poured freely while I crawled towards the phone still attached to my bike. I somehow got enough cell signal to tell Adriana that there had been a crash. Then the call dropped. She was waiting for us at the next water station, at the bottom of the hill. When she saw an ambulance passed, she grabbed our son and followed it to the crash site.

I was conscious during the entire journey from the ambulance to the operating room. I remember saying, “Thank goodness my face was there to break my fall. Otherwise, I could have really been hurt.” Adriana didn’t think that was funny, but I got some laughs from the doctors. She stood in the OR for hours, pregnant and holding our 1 year old son, while I was on the operating table.

I’ll never forget when they rolled me past her, on the way to a CT scan to check for any number of possible injuries to my brain or other vital organs. It all got real in that instant.

For the past hour, I had been making jokes, worrying about my uncle, and hoping to get out of the hospital, because I planned to treat my face with my own natural remedies, and I hate hospitals.

But then, all of a sudden, I was heading for a CT scan and the idea of lasting damage, or death, became very real.

What if I lose vision in that eye? Or both?

What if I can’t see my son grow into a man.

What if there’s internal bleeding?

What if…

Laying in the CT machine after having just seen her terrified face, the enormity of the situation washed over me.

We take risks each day, from driving cars to riding bikes.

And when everything is good, we take so much for granted — like my eyesight, our loved ones health and happiness, and the simple joy of a giggling little kid getting tickled by his mom.

How precious life is. How precious life is.

It’s a phrase we’ve all heard so many times before, but laying in that CT machine, that’s all I could think about.

How precious life is.

If I’ve learned anything — aside from how to ride a bike 64 miles and crash — it’s how fleeting life can be and how desperately we should try to enjoy the most simple pleasures.

Every run or ride. Every smoothie, family dinner, and kid’s book.

Every time we can roll over in bed without waking up from pain, or let water rush over our faces in the shower.

(I lost much of the skin between my upper lip and hairline— on both sides of my nose, which is hard to understand how that’s possible. And with 100+ stitches, showering was a pain, literally.)

So with all the different “goops” that I lathered on each day, all I wanted to do was wash my face vigorously. I couldn’t for months… Now, nearly every day, I consciously think about how nice it feels to let the shower hit my face.

But perhaps the most simple pleasure: enjoying each moment with loved ones.

Failures and Setbacks Leave Us With Opportunities

It’s hard to believe, but in some ways, I would go through it all again to derive the perspective that I now have.

I’m grateful for the adventure — and even the scars — because without them, I wouldn’t cherish every moment the way I do now.

It’s because I failed in a grand, dangerous way that I’m left with a gift far greater than I could have ever imagined when signing up…

A new perspective and a deep appreciation for life.

And while I certainly hope you don’t have to experience a near-death event to gain some appreciation, I do challenge you to stop running from failure.

Failure leaves us with opportunity. Opportunity to grow, learn, and get better.

We’re better athletes when we learn from failed workouts, and we’re better humans when we grow from failed experiences.

So as we approach the new year, I hope this story will inspire you, just as the experience has changed and inspired me.

Savor the little moments in your own life. Laugh and love as much as you can. Give your loved ones an extra hug. Call your old friend. Let the sun hit your face (something I’m not yet supposed to do until the scars fully heal)…

And always wear a helmet.

The post I Tried to Ride a 100 Mile Bike Race and Almost Died (Here’s What I Learned) appeared first on No Meat Athlete.

First found here: I Tried to Ride a 100 Mile Bike Race and Almost Died (Here’s What I Learned)

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cosmosogler · 6 years

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hi guys. nnnnnnnnnooooot feelin too hot.

i got up even later than yesterday, because i fell asleep somehow even later than the day before.

in my dreams i was... trying to navigate a landscape with a gps. i was in a scrub desert, like back at home on the plateaus, and every plant had thorns and no leaves and the grass was dry and sharp and clingy. i could see out over the countryside and there was a storm rolling in. my mind said monsoon but it looked more like a death superstorm. i took shelter in a house and i was trying to fix an electrical panel but i discovered with some irritation and dismay that the wall was so thin that it couldn’t fit anything like wires or insulation. the storm was rolling in.

after that there was a lot of car riding and bike riding and watching the other drivers on the road since i was in the trunk when i was in the car. some people i knew drove by and i heckled them but upon approximately 0 seconds of reflection i realized my teasing didn’t make any sense considering who they were. like either it was not relevant at all or was too mean to be playful. and it was to people i didn’t want to be mean to.

i dunno. after that there was a guy trying to kill the bike champion by rigging the race’s prize and i was also biking past the scene every now and then but also kind of passively watching.

i don’t know how i feel about the passively watching sort of dreams. on one hand there are dreams where i am present but unable to interact with the world. there are others where i am just watching people go about their business like a movie and i don’t, like, remember that i am also a person? or i have dreams where i AM another person and they have their own thoughts and make choices i don’t always agree with.

the dreams were i’m myself... aren’t really the best? but i prefer them to the kind where i just kinda poke my head in and look around. even when i’m dressed up in a costume or giving out the wrong name when people ask it’s still me.

um... anyway, i finished up my laundry and... i don’t remember any more. i had some strudels for breakfast! the apple kind isn’t as good as the strawberry. i put them on the second to highest setting in my toaster and they didn’t get cooked all the way through.

i got to the office at around 11 or 11:30. luis didn’t answer my text about the movie. i worked for a while. i got two sections of grading done and i started the next quantum assignment. next week there will be a new one though and i will be 3 behind again. tomorrow i will be 4 weeks behind in classical.

losin it.

luis came in around 4:30 and i asked if we were seeing the movie and he said what? and then that he had too much work to do. and also his phone died. so that fell through. it’s ok though. i kept working on the grading and the quantum and stuff. i didn’t get the first quantum problem done but keegan said it was really hard. i ended up being too hungry and grouchy to keep working so i went home around 6:45 or so, when i realized i had just spent 15 minutes doing literally nothing because i couldn’t focus any longer.

6 work sessions. so, about 5 hours of work total...? 4 and a half? each one is 45 minutes. i didn’t always have the timer on while i was working though because i’d forget to reset it, and i skipped my break toward the end.

i started feeling real iffy around 5 and the feeling hasn’t gone away since then. by “iffy” i mean everything feels weird and i would like to be not alive.

i keep seeing things, mostly in the corner of my vision. like i mistook the paper towel dispenser for a dark figure standing in the bathroom. the coat rack spooked me, multiple times. absolutely nothing, a few times. i keep seeing bright streaks in my vision and weird little spots of color that slide around. the motion is what puts me on edge. that and there was a big old roach in our office today and jennica and i weren’t sure what to do about that. it was on top of her grading so we couldn’t really... swat it i guess. chuck ended up getting it. we think it was near death anyway, it didn’t seem interested in moving and jennica said it looked like it had mold on its shell.

i mentioned to jennica that i was seeing weird stuff that wasn’t there on a second look and she said that was weird. that was the end of it.

i asked mom to set up an appointment with the eye doctor for when i go home in december. i hope she actually did that. might have to do it myself when i get a few minutes...

apparently stress can make your eyes do weird stuff.

anyway it’s almost 11 now, i wrote past my alarm again... i was looking at stress effects on the body. and stuff about grinding teeth. my jaw’s been popping for like two years now, it’s obnoxious. sometimes i can’t close my mouth properly because it, like, snags.

i feel like i’m dying. my body’s falling apart. i’m gonna end up having every non-vital organ taken out or replaced. well, i already got a vital one poked at and repaired haha.

harrison told me the other day that i talk about aging like i’m already 60. i shrugged and said i’m already wearing out. i hurt all the time, i just don’t have the same range of motion on my right side as i do on the left because of scar tissue. my brain doesn’t work right, my digestive system stopped working properly. i dunno.

on my way out of the office i caught keegan coming out of the grad lounge. he said he was escaping his problems with smash. i nodded sympathetically. but i don’t know how they do it. how do they talk like they’re lazy and mention they don’t work for whole days and STILL get the homework done on time? what am i missing? i know we’re all wearing out from long term anxiety but like... they’re still keeping up. i’m the only one who’s three weeks behind. and i’m only doing work for two classes instead of three.

anyway... a positive thing that happened today is that i biked up the hill in fourth gear instead of third!! i was so exhausted at the top that i couldn’t get back up to speed in fourth gear on level ground, but i can make it up the hill in a higher gear than before.

cyclists still fly past me on the way to and from campus. i don’t know how they do it, it’s not like i’m in the first set of gears. i stick to the second set, and sometimes the third set if there’s no cars or pedestrians. they don’t pedal that much faster than me, they just... are faster. maybe i should see if the tires have enough air or something. i dunno. maybe it’s the fact that i’m riding a trash baby bike that looks like it’s older than i am.

but i moved up to fourth gear so now i am Even Faster going uphill. it helped that i had a snack right before i left. someday i will achieve my dream of gotta go fast. i just have to ride up the hill 40 more times. and then 40 more again.

i’m seeing my psychiatrist tomorrow. so there’s that... it feels like everything happens so slowly but i still manage to lose all the time between obligations. i have an entire week to do this classical assignment. but suddenly it’s a week later and i haven’t even had time to start. and then do that for four weeks straight i guess, now, it’s been.

i’m gonna be a Responsible Adult today and get ready for bed at a REASONABLE time... after this song.

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restatebrk24219 · 5 years

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10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

Update: I wrote this article in 2015, but I thought with the new year right behind me that I should update it with all the learning I’ve received on the subject of post-mortems. I realized, in retrospect, that I left one key tip out that I make sure to include in all my post-mortems. So, what’s better than 10 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem? I present the much new and improved 11 Tips For A Successful Post-Mortem. (Spoiler: #5 is new.)

I love meetings. Actually, let me clarify. I like creative, strategy-focused meetings like a brainstorm or its emo cousin, the Post-Mortem.

What is a post-mortem? To some, it’s an examination of a corpse in order to determine the correct cause of death. To other more well-adjusted individuals (no offense Dana Scully), it’s a discussion (usually at the end of the project) to identify and analyze elements of a project that were successful or unsuccessful. It answers the question, “How’d we do?”

Many people find the name “post-mortem” too macabre. They’d rather call it a “retrospective,” which I find boring and lacking imagination. Even if a project was a ridiculously successful delight from start to finish, the post-mortem marks the end of a job (or phase) and your team is probably happy to have it behind them. If I had my way, I’d call it the “[insert project name] Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza!!” Now don’t tell me you wouldn’t rather go to that than the “[insert project name] Retrospective.”

Not Just For Single Projects

Many people assume that post-mortems are only for one-off projects. Although they’re extremely important for projects with a clearly defined start and end date – think apps, web sites, infographics, etc. – they’re just as useful for ongoing marketing efforts. Post-mortems can keep the big picture in perspective with monthly, quarterly, or annual reviews. Obviously, having one every month is time-consuming, but a few hours every quarter is time well spent.

Not Just For Agencies

Post-mortems aren’t just for agencies trying to retain clients or win new business. They are every bit as useful on the brand side. Marketing Directors can equally benefit by holding post-mortems after finishing any campaign or project. To note, in a perfect world, the post-mortem can involve the client team and the agency team together. Remember, it’s “How’d we do?”

So, now that you’ve been convinced of the awesomeness of the post-mortem and have probably already scheduled one, here are my 10 tips for getting the most out of your post-mortem:

(Note: For the purpose of these tips, I’ll refer to them in the context of a single campaign with a goal of completion rather than an ongoing project.)

1. Have a post-mortem for every project, no matter how small or how big, no matter what the outcome.

Even if a project is small, there are always things that pop up which will help you learn for larger projects. For example, let’s say that the project was delayed because of communication issues. This could lead to a delay of a few days for a small project. But in a massive project, this could delay you by months and more importantly, increase the cost by two-fold. Always a fun conversation with the CFO.

Importantly, post-mortems should be held no matter how well a project went. Some tend to think that a post-mortem is all about what went wrong. Again, I prefer to think of it as “how’d we do and why?” I’ve never worked on a project that went perfectly. Likewise, I’ve never worked on a project that was a complete disaster. There is always something of value to learn.

“The minute that you’re not learning I believe you’re dead.” Jack Nicholson

2. Schedule the post-mortem directly after the project concludes.

If you’re like me, project details evaporate from memory when the big push is finished. If a project goes well we lose sight of problems in light of a job well done. If a project goes poorly we lose sight of successes as we try to figure out what went wrong. Have your post-mortem while details are still fresh. Bonus points for scheduling them in advance.

“The palest ink is better than the best memory.” Chinese Proverb

3. Set a constructive mindset.

This is by far the most important tip on this list. A post-mortem is not about highlighting failures with the purpose of assigning blame. It’s not about reviewing employee performance. It’s about reviewing the work and the result for purposes of team and personal improvement. It needs to be constructive.

Therefore, it’s important that your team is in the right mindset: positive and learning-focused, not defensive or hypercritical. The best way to do this is to start off the conversation with something positive. Generally, the more powerful or proud they feel, the more effectively they can process constructive criticism.

As one of my team members always likes to say when things go wrong, “Well, nobody was killed, so…” Remind everyone that, no matter how embarrassing a gaffe, you can learn from it. Obviously, this doesn’t work if somebody did die, but no Portent project has killed anyone so far… so I’ve been told.

“I’m the kind of person who likes to create the environment and mindset – not because I do it deliberately, but because that’s how I like to live – where, from catering to makeup to hair to wardrobe, electricians, camera department lighting, sound, you know, it’s our movie; we’re together, and we have that camaraderie and that closeness.” Steve McQueen

4. Create an agenda.

Even a relaxed meeting needs an agenda. The last thing we want is a completely disorganized mess that leaves you an hour later with no idea of what you actually learned. Having an agenda will actually help with all of the tips I’ve spoken about so far.

Here’s a sample agenda for an effective post-mortem:

Set Tone / Explain Format (5 Min) – This is possibly the most critical, pivotal 5 minutes of the meeting. It’s where you remind the group that this post-mortem is all about constructive analysis. It’s your chance to guide the mindset of the group and hopefully get them to relax and feel safe enough for a truly productive session.

Recap The Project (2 Min) – That’s it. You’ll give a synopsis of what the project was about and what the initial expectations were. This will let you focus on the measurable goals so you can objectively evaluate whether the project was a success.

Recap The Outcome (3 Min) – Although there might be a difference of opinion on how everyone thought the process went, usually there’s a pretty straightforward idea on whether the goal was met. Was the client happy? (This could be a client in the literal sense, or it could be the CMO of your own company.) Did the cost exceed the budget? Was the product delivered on time?

Team Member Questions (40 Min) – This is the meat of the post-mortem. Where all this setup will pay dividends. It’s where the conversation really gets going and your team members get an opportunity to speak up. It helps to jump-start by asking one person a question and allow people to riff off each other. The important thing is that everyone gets a chance to contribute. Here are the questions that I like to ask:

Are you proud of our finished deliverables? If yes, what made them great? If no, what was wrong or missing?

Did we get the results we wanted and did it make impact?

Which of our methods or processes worked particularly well?

Which of our methods or processes were difficult or frustrating to use?

How would you do things differently next time to avoid this frustration?

What else could we do better next time?

What was the most gratifying or professionally satisfying part of the project?

Wrap-Up (10 Min) – This is where you thank everyone for participating and let them know that notes will be coming soon.

Admittedly, it can be really challenging to keep to this agenda on the fly, but the last thing you want to do is stop the conversation from flowing organically. Most times, the conversation will jump naturally from one question to the next. The important part is that you make sure each of the answers is a conversation and everyone is able to address them.

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin

5. Send out a questionnaire to all the participants prior to the meeting.

An agenda is extremely important, but it’ll be hard to stick to your timetable if the participants aren’t prepared themselves having thought about all the questions you plan to cover. If they haven’t already though through the questions, I guarantee you if you ask them what methods or processes worked well, you’ll get at least 10-20 seconds of blank stares.

This is productive for two reasons. First, you’ll more likely get better answers. It’s hard to come up with something on the spot that has substance. Secondly, when somebody finally feels like they have a good answer, nobody else will listen to them because they’re busy trying to think of a good answer themselves.

So, along with a simple agenda, make sure that you send all the participants a list of questions that they should think about prior to the meeting. It’s best if you give them plenty of time to get this done so it’s not a last minute dash right before the post-mortem.

“We must open the doors of opportunity. But we must also equip our people to walk through those doors.” Lyndon B. Johnson

6. Identify the moderator.

Along with an agenda, there must be one person responsible for moderating the meeting. This is generally the same person that set the agenda and scheduled the post-mortem. Having a moderator not only creates bumper rails for the conversation, but allows all the other team members the freedom to speak their mind without worrying excessively about the structure or process.

A good moderator will give the right amount of leeway for the conversation to tackle a tangent before reigning it back in.

The moderator should also be the one to take notes. I recommend using a white board. That allows team members to stay engaged, rather than frantically scribbling notes.

“Can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the things?” Homer Simpson

7. Keep it relaxed.

As I mentioned earlier, I love creative strategy meetings. They tend to be more relaxed and therefore more fun. Dreaded, high-tension post-mortems kill creativity and seal your team into their personal shells. That kind of meeting is as productive as a team-wide nap time.

You’re uncovering uncomfortable stuff much of the time. Deliberately promote a relaxed environment. If it’s early in the morning, bring coffee and donuts. If it’s later in the day, bring beer and well… donuts. Always bring donuts.

“A cheerful frame of mind, reinforced by relaxation… is the medicine that puts all ghosts of fear on the run.” George Matthew Adams

8. Encourage participation.

The goal of a post-mortem is a deep dive into the project and learning as a team. By surfacing the perspectives of everyone in the group – many of whom are often more in the weeds – they let us uncover issues at a micro-level that add up to a seriously macro impact. If only a few team members are speaking up, be sure and ask the others what thoughts they have. Sometimes it only takes a small amount of prodding before people feel comfortable talking.

“In teamwork, silence isn’t golden, it’s deadly.” Mark Sanborn

9. Leave the laptops behind.

Just like creative brainstorms, I prefer that post-mortems are screen-less affairs. Folks are encouraged to bring notes, but computers often provide more distraction than they’re worth. For those already a bit hesitant to share their thoughts, there’s nothing worse than opening up only to find that people aren’t paying attention. A post-mortem should create dialogue and bounce thoughts and ideas back and forth. There’s no room for a computer in this process – even for note taking. (I’ll explain why later.)

“The successful warrior is the average man, with laser focus.” Bruce Lee

10. Develop actionable takeaways.

Even the most productive post-mortem is no good unless there are clear, actionable takeaways. “Do better” is a noble takeaway indeed, but how do you act on that next time? You need specific to-dos the team can remember in the heat of the next project.

In our previous example, if communication was the problem, perhaps the actionable takeaway is to set more regular, in-person check-ins.

Actionable takeaways set clear expectations. The team can hold each other accountable for implementing them on the next project.

“An organization’s ability to learn, and translate that learning into action rapidly, is the ultimate competitive advantage.” Jack Welch

11. Share post-mortem takeaways.

Nothing groundbreaking here. The last important tip is to share the post-mortem takeaways with anybody who might benefit from your newly-found pearls of wisdom. This definitely includes your post-mortem attendees. But spend the time to identify others in your company who deal with the same challenges.

“Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.” His Holiness the Dalai Lama

While some of these tips are bit more rigid than others, the most important thing to remember is to keep the nature of the post-mortem light, yet still productive and impactful. If you succeed, you’ll watch your team take away immensely valuable insights that’ll make the next project even better.

Or if this is all just too much, just be sure and call it a Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza. And bring donuts.

The post 10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem appeared first on Portent.

http://bit.ly/2AJittR

#10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

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constructionsworkr3053 · 5 years

Text

10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

I love meetings. Actually, let me clarify. I like creative, strategy-focused meetings like a brainstorm or its emo cousin, the Post-Mortem.

Not Just For Single Projects

Not Just For Agencies

So, now that you’ve been convinced of the awesomeness of the post-mortem and have probably already scheduled one, here are my 10 tips for getting the most out of your post-mortem:

(Note: For the purpose of these tips, I’ll refer to them in the context of a single campaign with a goal of completion rather than an ongoing project.)

1. Have a post-mortem for every project, no matter how small or how big, no matter what the outcome.

“The minute that you’re not learning I believe you’re dead.” Jack Nicholson

2. Schedule the post-mortem directly after the project concludes.

“The palest ink is better than the best memory.” Chinese Proverb

3. Set a constructive mindset.

4. Create an agenda.

Here’s a sample agenda for an effective post-mortem:

Are you proud of our finished deliverables? If yes, what made them great? If no, what was wrong or missing?

Did we get the results we wanted and did it make impact?

Which of our methods or processes worked particularly well?

Which of our methods or processes were difficult or frustrating to use?

How would you do things differently next time to avoid this frustration?

What else could we do better next time?

What was the most gratifying or professionally satisfying part of the project?

Wrap-Up (10 Min) – This is where you thank everyone for participating and let them know that notes will be coming soon.

“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin

5. Send out a questionnaire to all the participants prior to the meeting.

“We must open the doors of opportunity. But we must also equip our people to walk through those doors.” Lyndon B. Johnson

6. Identify the moderator.

A good moderator will give the right amount of leeway for the conversation to tackle a tangent before reigning it back in.

The moderator should also be the one to take notes. I recommend using a white board. That allows team members to stay engaged, rather than frantically scribbling notes.

“Can you repeat the part of the stuff where you said all about the things?” Homer Simpson

7. Keep it relaxed.

“A cheerful frame of mind, reinforced by relaxation… is the medicine that puts all ghosts of fear on the run.” George Matthew Adams

8. Encourage participation.

“In teamwork, silence isn’t golden, it’s deadly.” Mark Sanborn

9. Leave the laptops behind.

“The successful warrior is the average man, with laser focus.” Bruce Lee

10. Develop actionable takeaways.

In our previous example, if communication was the problem, perhaps the actionable takeaway is to set more regular, in-person check-ins.

Actionable takeaways set clear expectations. The team can hold each other accountable for implementing them on the next project.

“An organization’s ability to learn, and translate that learning into action rapidly, is the ultimate competitive advantage.” Jack Welch

11. Share post-mortem takeaways.

“Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.” His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Or if this is all just too much, just be sure and call it a Super Post-Mortem Extravaganza. And bring donuts.

The post 10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem appeared first on Portent.

http://bit.ly/2AJittR

#10 Tips for a Successful Post-Mortem

0 notes