#i'm too lazy to make these level out properly

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[dairsmuids]

A Deadly Performance

A Haytham Kenway x Reader smut fic (named for the mission it's set after, because I'm lazy at coming up with titles)

Dedicated to @anli-rambles my beloved, because I love you endlessly, and my life is better for having you in it. (shut up I can be as sappy as I want this is my fic <3) Thank you for being the first person to read this, because your praise actually hyped me up enough to want to post it lol

Tagging: @bloodfathers @sangheilihoes @ladysaturnsdust @amefuyuu @wyyvernn @memoriesofafallen @heiress-prime

Haytham's cape billows behind him as he strolls out of the opera house doors, seemingly unbothered by the cacophony taking place behind him. He walks with his usual air of cold confidence, greeting you with just the briefest hint of a side smile as Holden opens the carriage door to let him in.

"And how was the opera?"

"Rather dull, truth be told," comes Haytham's deliberately-flat response. You can't help but giggle into your palm at that — you know full well, of course, why he'd come here and what he'd done — but Haytham is far too busy inspecting the amulet in his hand to react to, or even notice, your amusement. He seems utterly bewildered by the fruits of his labour as he twirls the unusual item between his fingers.

"Shall we be off, then?" asks Holden.

"Aye, to Fleet and Bride."

"By your command."

As the carriage begins to move off, the hollow sound of the horses' hooves ringing out against the ground, you lean into Haytham's side, to which the Templar finally acknowledges you properly with a soft kiss to the side of your head.

"Missed you," you murmur, "Holden's been beguiling me with tales all evening in your absence."

Haytham just hums a noncommittal response, clearly still distracted by the amulet in his hand. You reach for it curiously, but he moves it away with a playful air as he finally makes eye contact with you.

"So, this is what Master Birch has been foaming at the mouth about," you say, leaning in to take a closer look.

Haytham gives a subtle raise of his eyebrows as his steel-blue eyes find the amulet once more. "His utterly inane preoccupation with this... this... prattle evades any level of understanding I've had of him over the years," he says, and you can tell by the tinge of frustration in his voice that there's something going on there, something deeper than he's letting on, but you don't press the matter. Even if you did, you knew Haytham likely wouldn't wish to speak about it.

Wanting to be a place of solace for his very obvious disgruntlement you reach over to plant a kiss against Haytham's cheek, your lips lingering upon his skin for a moment or two, before placing your hand gently upon his knee, stroking your thumb idly against the clothed skin. Haytham doesn't respond at first, his entire focus still on the amulet, but then you glide your hand all the way up his thigh, squeezing gently as your fingertips brush his crotch, and his body language stiffens up ever so slightly.

"What are you doing, my dear?" he asks, gazing at you now, with an arch of one single perfectly-groomed brow. There's the tiniest hint of a smirk flickering upon his lips.

You flash him a grin. "You just seem a little... tense, is all. I thought perhaps I could help with that."

"Is that so?"

"It is so," you tell him, and you lean in to press your lips against his, his hand trailing up the back of your neck as the two of you begin to kiss in long, slow, perfectly in-sync strokes.

You give his thigh another light squeeze as you pull away from the kiss, tracing your fingertips up and down, glancing downward to notice the way there's now a very obvious bulge at the front of his breeches, "May I be allowed to… help you with that, sir?"

At first you wonder if perhaps Haytham is against the idea of you doing something so wanton to him in a semi-public setting, but his hooded gaze and the way he suddenly leans in for another quick peck on the lips tells you all you need to know. "You may," he replies, and then his warm lips are against the shell of your ear, his voice a harsh growl as he speaks again: "Discreetly, or there'll be trouble."

And so you do as he commands. Haytham's eyes drift closed as your hand slips upwards and into his breeches. A small, restrained groan falls from his parted lips, his fist tightening around the amulet in his palm.

"You're utterly insatiable, you know," comes the Templar's voice, low and raspy, as he opens his eyes to regard you again, his intense gaze fixed upon the side of your face. You swipe your thumb over the head of his cock and he immediately responds, sucking air through his teeth. "Didn't you get enough of me this morning?"

Your thoughts drift back to earlier in the day — Haytham had given you a wake up call in the form of his teeth at your neck and a hand between your legs, before proceeding to take you in bed, on the chair next to the bed, and against the windowsill. A good morning indeed.

"I can never get enough of you, love," you say with a smile, and then you lean in closer, dropping your voice. "Besides, I figured you were deserving of a reward for the job you did this evening. This is a much better reward than any kind Master Birch would give you, hm?"

Haytham breathes out a chuckle at that, though his gaze is clouding over as he does so — clearly too distracted by your touch to fully engage in a conversation. "I should certainly hope Reginald never offers me this kind of reward; I may have to pledge my allegiances elsewhere."

Your chest jolts slightly with the ghost of a laugh as you grasp at the waistband of Haytham's breeches, pulling them down just enough to expose his now fully erect cock to the open air of the carriage, immediately reaching to wrap your hand around him, stroking up and down with just the right amount of speed and pressure. This isn't the first time you've done this to Haytham: you know just how he likes to be touched.

Haytham drops his head back slightly as his chest heaves with heavy breaths, his eyelids fluttering shut, and he reaches for the red cravat around his neck to loosen it slightly.

"You're going to be the death of me, you naughty little thing," he moans, his voice a quiet rumble that barely pierces the air around the two of you.

You hum happily at that, revelling in the velvety warmth of his cock in your palm as his hips thrust upwards, one of his hands scrambling to grasp at the back of the carriage seat while the other still tightly grips onto the amulet. It's clear he's trying his best to control himself, but as you continue to move your hand roughly against him, you can tell that restraint is quickly becoming the furthest thing from his mind.

Haytham presses his hand to his eyes, pushing upwards into his hairline and grabbing lightly, as though he needs to hold on to something, anything. A few rogue strands of dark hair fall loose from his usually-perfect ponytail, framing his slightly reddened face.

"You're a menace," he chokes out as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock again, the action making a filthy slick sound as you smear his precum up and down the entire length.

Restraint appears to be an entirely forgotten concept to Haytham now as your continued touch sends him hurtling toward the edge, his hips fucking furiously upwards into your hand like nothing else matters in life. He looks a dishevelled, desperate mess, a million miles away from his usual buttoned-up self, and you love that you're the only one who can coax this side out of him.

Haytham's entire body begins to tense up, his thigh muscles tightening until all at once you feel his entire body shudder, a long, guttural moan escaping from between his parted lips. His stormy eyes roll back into his skull as he lets himself fall into climax, his release coating your palm, the abundance of it dripping down your wrist and onto the warm skin of his exposed stomach.

Without missing a beat he reaches his hand into the chest area of his jacket, pulling a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his red waistcoat and offering it to you, which you accept with a soft laugh as you use it to clean up the sticky mess on your hand. “Ever the perfect gentleman,” you say teasingly.

Haytham chuckles as he draws in a deep breath, his demeanour now seeming much more relaxed as he begins to straighten himself up, tucking his softening cock back into the confines of his breeches.

“Let me fix this,” you murmur as you reach for his loosened cravat, untying it before redoing it into a perfectly even bow. His gaze upon you is heated and intense, as though pouncing upon you like a wild animal would be preferable, and as you meet his eyes you can't help the blush that spreads across your cheeks.

“For what it's worth, my darling,” Haytham growls lowly, his warm breath tickling your ear as he leans in close, “I fully intend to repay the favour later.”

[lolahasmoxie]

Cuddle Monster (E.M.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Childhood Best Friend Reader

Warning: (smacks fanfiction) This baby holds so much fluff! Kids! Cuddling! CASUAL INTIMACY UP THE ASS!

Word: 487

Notes: I'm a second-grade teacher, and my kiddos still love to give hugs. I also have friends with kids the same age. Not gonna lie; some warm kid hugs just make my soul happy. This doesn't really push the story forward at all; it's a pleasant little interlude.

Also, my edible JUST kicked in. Enjoy!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /

@kimmi-kat @feltonswifesworld87 @mrsmunsonxquinn @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @hahahafucku @emilyroxy @ihatepeanutss @mackyboo21

Ronnie Wayne Munson was his father's child.

Whenever you watched Ronnie, it was like seeing your best friend grow up all over again. But the similarities ran more profound than just sharing the same hair and colored eyes.

It was how they both poked their tongues out while in deep concentration to how they would fall asleep in full starfish mode; you enjoyed every bit of Ronnie Wayne Munson.

Especially the fact that he inherited his father's love language of physical touch.

Every time you were at their home, Ronnie would take you by the hand (after his father had welcomed you properly with a kiss) and had you sitting on the couch as soon as he could. Then he would proceed to climb into your lap, tiny arms around your neck and his warm body pressed against yours, as he told you about his day.

You'd had to chastize Eddie once or twice as he sat next to you on the couch. His arms crossed over his chest, and a pout on his plush lips, as his son slept in your arms.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"You came to see me; I should be in your lap."

"Eddie, he's 4!"

"I mean, this level of disrespect in my own home is appalling. I will NOT let it go unanswered.”

“Jesus Christ, get over here you giant baby.”

Weekends are a sacred time for you and Eddie, but you can hear his tiny little feet creeping into your bedroom like clockwork every Saturday and Sunday.

You feign sleep, trying to hide your giggles as Ronnie huffs and puffs as he tries to climb into your bed. He always comes to your side of the bed since Eddie sleeps like the dead, and eventually, you pick him up and gently place him in the middle.

His warm, tiny body curls instinctively into you. You run your hand up and down his back to coax him back to sleep. You let out a yawn when Eddie stirs next to you.

"You two left me out? What's a guy got to do to get some damn cuddles in this place?"

"Eddie, the sun isn't even up yet. Can you wait until, like, 9 am to be weird?"

"Nope, cuddle me, NOW."

"But we're so warm and cozy here." You give him a sleepy grin, closing your eyes as he grumbles while inching towards you and his son.

"Gonna file a complaint with the Union, I tell ya. Can't get a cuddle from my woman. Can’t get a cuddle from my own begotten progeny, my very own flesh and blood..."

"Go to sleep, Eddie."

"Not until you tell me you love me."

Silence.

"Please?"

"Fine!" You lean in, and in seconds, Eddie's plush lips are softly pressed against yours. His arm lands on your waist, both of you creating a soft cocoon for Ronnie. "I love you."

"I love you too, Princess. Can I tell you something?"

"Tell me."

"This, all of us. It feels really nice, right?"

"It feels perfect." You feel lips against your forehead and calloused fingertips trace lazy patterns as you slowly fade back to sleep. "Wouldn't change it for a thing."

[cryptid-juzou]

🪦🎃 Trick or Treat, pls 🎃🪦

🎃👻Your little 🍬treatie🍬 shall be a skk ficlet where Dazai does what he does best and gets on Chuuya's nerves, but what could his purpose for this be, I wonder 👻🎃

Chuuya ground his teeth together, looking at the clock for the third time in the last 20 minutes, time was moving at a crawl and he could feel a tension headache coming on from having his jaw clenched so tightly. That bastard, like usual, had no respect for timing. This was the third joint mission in the last six months that Dazai had been a pain to work with, always showing up late, talking in that infuriating sing-song way, taking nothing seriously.

Or at least appearing too, as much as he hates to admit it Dazai’s plans never failed to work out, he was always in control of the situation. So he knew that if Dazai was slacking off, he had already decided everything was going to work out exactly as he wanted it to. It was still a pain in the ass to have to wait around until Dazai deigned to arrive.

At the 30 minute mark, suspiciously close to being exactly 30 minutes late, Dazai finally walked through the door of the warehouse they were meeting in. Hands in his pockets, whistling his stupid lovers suicide song, Dazai stood by the far wall and made a theatrical show of looking around in all directions with a confused expression. Chuuya watched this for a bit before, predictably, losing his temper, “Hey, shitty Mackerel, we’re already running behind, what are you fucking looking for.”

Dazai made a big show of turning towards Chuuya, angling his head down and looking surprised, his eyes glittering with mischief as he said, “Oh, there you are! Chuuya is so small I didn’t see him, I thought he hadn’t arrived yet.” 

Chuuya shouldn’t have been surprised, but his quick temper meant he never had been able to stop himself reacting to Dazai’s many attempts to get under his skin. ‘Huhh!! What was that you walking waste of bandages!” Chuuya stomped over into Dazai’s space in a way that was meant to be intimidating, but of course to Dazai, wasn’t. He simply gave one of his infuriating bright but artificial smiles, further enraging Chuuya.

Chuuya’s face was flushed red with anger, his fingers twitching where his hands were in his pockets, itching to grab Dazai’s shirt front and drag him down to his level to yell at him properly. “You show up 30 minutes late, and the first thing you do is insult me! I should leave your lazy ass here and let your agency deal with the repercussions, this mission came from your side, not ours.”

Dazai grinned, his eyes sparkling the way they always did when he knew whatever was about to come out of his mouth would be enraging. “I know Chuuya’s brain is small to match his body, but surely even he knows that refusing to help is disobeying Mori’s orders.”

A distant part of Chuuya that hadn’t completely succumbed to irritation recognized that Dazai was being extra annoying today, he normally wasn’t quite as insufferable as to go for multiple height jokes in a row. But at this moment, he did not think too hard on this, could not, because all his energy was focused on being mad at Dazai, on doing something about the grin on his stupid smug face.

This time Chuuya did not hold himself back, his gloved hands pulling out of his pockets to fist in Dazai’s shirt front, dragging him closer to yell in his face, “Shut the fuck up about my height, bastard. It does get old. For someone so smart, you recycle a lot of the same old insults you know.”

Rather than try to escape Chuuya’s vice-like  grip, Dazai wrapped one bandaged hand around Chuuyas where it was still fisted in his shirt and leaned towards his ear. He lightly whispered, “If i'm so insufferable, then maybe Chuuya should put me in my place,” the warmth of Dazai’s breath on Chuuya’s skin making him shudder.

Dazai leaned back just enough to make eye contact, this close Chuuya could see flecks of varying shades of brown in his irises, and could see just how amused those eyes looked. He could also hear how Dazai’s breathing was slightly heavier than usual, Dazai leaned back just enough to look Chuuya in the eye and smirk.

Chuuya, exactly as Dazai had known he would do, fell for the very obvious bait. He used the grip he had on Dazai’s shirt to walk them the two steps over to the wall to forcefully push Dazai into it. Dazai's head bumped painfully into the wall, but he had no time to react before Chuuya’s lips were on his, taking advantage of his gasp of pain to lick roughly into his mouth. One hand unclenched from Dazai’s shirt and came up to tangle in his hair, tugging harshly to pull Dazai down to Chuuya’s level so he was no longer on his tiptoes. As always, Dazai got his way, and they were both about to be a lot later for their mission.

ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)

[cbrownjc]

HOTD possible spoiler (as well as some Fire and Blood ones) under the cut:

The person who posted the initial rumor/leak/spoiler is clarifying/sticking to it.

I've already talked about my problems with how this show has handled its black characters here (wrt Laena) and here when this Nettles rumor/leak first happened a few days ago.

Honestly, if this rumor really is true, I will pretty much be done with the show. Because aside from the racist angle the show just falls right into by doing something like this, it's also just lazy AF writing.

If the show wanted to make Rhaena a more active participant in the war that very easily can be done without making her a dragon rider. They could have her play a bigger role in helping in the survival of her family members, seeing that she, her sister, and her two little half-brothers are the only ones who do so (along with Corlys). Let her become the more politically savvy twin, using her status as a princess and such to form alliances, keep the Vale on the side of The Blacks, and things like that. Maybe even leading up to things like having her take the lead in ensuring that Corlys doesn't get executed for treason after the war is over.

But nope. Just make her a dragon rider during the conflict too. And hey, since she's black now, just have her replace the only book-canon black character in the story of the Dance, who was already speculated by some to be Daemon's bastard daughter anyway. Because all black people are just interchangeable anyway, right? 🙄 (That is if we're even bothering to give them character and story arcs in the first place; especially in comparison to their originally white book counterparts *cough*Laena*cough*).

So yeah, NGL I was already growing apathetic about the show before this, given how Leana, Rhaena, and Baela's characters were all handled in Season 1. Cutting out Nettles and just having Rhaena take her place? When the two characters are nothing alike, personality-wise?

Yeah, if this really is true then no thank you. I'll check out clips of the big moments -- Rook's Rest, Blood and Cheese, and whenever The Battle Above the God's Eye happens in some later season -- on YouTube or something. But actively watch episodes in full? Nope.

Again, I'll wait to full-out rant on this when it's 100% confirmed in some way. (And yes, such a rant very likely would include talking about how color-conscious casting & writing > > > > > > color-blind casting & writing; and using that to properly world build -- because yes that is possible even wrt a fantasy world like Westeros, which already has established places in its world where black people prominently lived and originated from.) Maybe waiting to do so is just me being in denial, IDK. But I'm kind of having deja vu wrt how I felt about the rumors circulating about Season 8 of GOT again. I just couldn't believe the writers were going to be that level of hack-lazy. And yet . . . .

I really had hopes that HBO had learned from that mistake and that the writing team and showrunners for this show wouldn't do something similar. But ever since I saw what happened to Laena's character, (and how her role in Rhaenrya's life -- when they were young -- was basically given to Alicent), I've been questioning if they really have . . . . or ever did. 🤷🏾‍♀️

[nasmuhhh]

heya guys!!

nothing important, I just decided to make a strange post about the relationship between me and Creep with that trio in my blog-

it's can be like...headcanon? idea? I DUNNO!! think as you want! :D

I did it just because I want to think about it a little!

also warning - MUCH TEXT!!

let's starts I guess. :3 ->

Nasmuh and Baldi.

y'know, when I'M NOT ACTUALLY TRY TO BEAT ONE OF BB+ GAMEPLAY Baldi and I would probably have the usual fun conversations and all sorts of adventures. like go camping.

when I'm trying to beat one of BB+ gameplay - I think he's REALLY HATE ME SOMETIMES...until I give him an apple, of course.

third floor is just a nightmare!

(considering that 0.8 is coming out soon, THE GAME WILL BECOME EVEN MORE HARD FOR ME!! MYSTMAN IS SO UNFAIR TO US!! TwT)

Nasmuh and Peppino.

ah, I want pizza sometimes...and just play Pizza Tower JUST BECAUSE I WANT TO RE-BEAT THE WHOLE GAME WITH S RANK-

I already beat whole Pizza Tower with A rank. and I would like to upgrade the entire tower to a higher rank, but I have to go in Lap 2 because I don't have enough combo to S rank.

so...considering that we're playing as Peppino, he has a reason to hate me fr.

HE CLEARLY DOESN'T UNDERSTAND WHY WE'RE GOING BACK TO TOWER AGAIN AND AGAIN.

poor Italian man. 😔

Nasmuh and Luni.

(too lazy to draw, sorry)

yes, yes, Gacha. again. not everyone likes it, so I don't post things with Luni that often...

well.

I think he either doesn't care or he doesn't care. he's more likely to get into the habit of messing with some girl fan, so he just don't give a duck.

or is he just not showing his emotions properly?..

...

dunno, he is hidden in himself! >:(

btw, he's been holding out long enough in battles in Gacha Club.

(he has level 110 already, how can he lose it?-)

Creep and Baldi.

surprisingly, Baldi treats Creep normally, which is strange. I mean, Creep could help me sometimes during gameplay, so...

it's really weird.

does Baldi think that Creep is NPC, or is it just that Creep hasn't managed to piss him off yet?

I dunno, but this is very strange!

speaking about Creep, he treats Baldi normally himself.

Creep and Peppino.

Creep is slightly afraid of Peppino, so he will be very careful when contacting him. he runs around level and collects Pizza Points for Peppino.

he just knows that I want to re-beat whole tower with S rank.

Peppino doesn't really trust Creep. he's suspiciously strange to him. but he still finds it useful to be honest.

anyway, he had some weird kind of help I suppose.

Creep and Luni.

he doesn't like Creep.

[lasi-nariyoyoreads]

Hello, it's me... A Twice stan hahaha

I wanted to ask for a reading for Sana's personality. If this is okay~~

I hope you're doing well. Wishing you well :)

Sana's personality according to tarots

Hi! I'm okay, how are you? Are you enjoying the comeback?

Disclaimer:

My readings are made for fun and you should read them for fun too. So don't take them seriously.

Core aspect of her personality:

strength

This card in the tarots is usually represented as a woman who pets a lion, so it doesn’t refer to brutal power, but to courage, determination, patience.

Sana might be a “strong” person, someone who is always positive even while facing hardships.

She might be someone that fights for what she wants, but also someone able to bring a positive influence to others, encourage them, even guide them.

She is good at relating with people, who look up to her and respect her a lot.

What does she think about herself?

rev magician , rev the world, 8 of swords

She might think she’s greedy or someone able to manipulate others. We know it’s easy for her to befriend others, so she might consider this as some sort of tool she can use when necessary?

She feels lacking. 

If it’s from a professional point of view, there might be a lot of things she wants to try or she isn’t satisfied with her current level of success/skills, so she wants “more”.

If it’s from a private point of view, she might feel something lacks in her relationships, either a real important union, or simply she feels she doesn’t have enough time to take care properly of her loved ones.

She might feel trapped in her current position, she would like to try new things maybe or she would like to express herself more freely.

Linking all these cards together, it feels as if she believes she should be happy and satisfied, but she isn’t and she considers this dissatisfaction as something negative, as “greed”.

What do they think about her?

ace of cups, rev ace of swords, rev lovers

Ace of cups is a very romantic card, so it can imply people might actually have romantic feelings for her or they generally have a soft spot for her or they might see her as a source of love and affection.

However, others consider her as someone who lacks ideas and originality, like “she’s always doing the same thing”, as if there’s no evolution or no clear plans about her future.

Others might think there’s an imbalance in her life, like her emotions might be a bit all over the place or they consider her as someone who lacks organization.

Positive traits:

rev 2 of swords, 8 of swords, 10 of swords

She’s cautious, even in the most stressful situations, you can trust her to not lose her mind.

She is someone who keeps looking for answers, solutions etc. She doesn’t give up.

You could say she’s a positive person, not just in a “yay I’m happy!” way, but above all in a “I believe it can go well”, an attitude that might be a good influence for the people around her.

Resilience is the right word to describe it. No matter what people say or think, no matter how bad the situation is, she has the type of mindset that doesn’t give up.

I think she also makes for a good friend that gives good advice. If a friend sees no ways out, she might probably be able to either find a solution or to give them hope.

Negative traits:

rev king of swords, rev page of pentacles, rev the sun

She might have a hard time to follow a routine and keep a regular schedule.

She might be the type who loses her sh1t when she’s angry, she might get very emotional.

She can be immature and childish, lazy, she might lack a real goal or miss opportunities.

She might have mood swings like feeling very enthusiastic about something or very negative about something else, or in general she might have very strong opinions and it's hard to make her change her mind. If you gave her a negative impression, it's hard for her to see you in a different light.

In general, I’d say she has a certain chaotic energy because she’s an emotional person.

[thyrup]

CW: Suggestive, not smut

..........................................

"We've been thinking," Geto began casually.

"About what you told us last week," Gojo finished with more enthusiasm.

You frowned, nonplussed, "What did I tell you last week?"

"About how you've never had an orgasm."

You snorted, "Don't you have better things to think about?"

Neither of them laughed back.

"Why are you guys being so weird about that?"

"It's so sad," Gojo taunted from his place slumped against the arm of the couch. His stare cut into you, even through his blindfold. "You should let us help you."

You choked. Whatever you had been expecting, that wasn't it.

"W-what?"

"C'mon," Gojo cajoled, "Bet we could do it. Bet we could make you cum with just our fingers."

You looked desperately to Geto, the practical one, the level-headed one.

He shrugged, "I prefer to use my tongue."

"You guys can't be serious."

"Why not?" Gojo was sitting up properly now, leaning in close.

You leaned back instinctually, only to feel Geto against your back.

You had seen them work in tandem like this countless time before - picking out a girl in the bar and circling like wolves to separate her from her friends, whispering sweet nothings until she walked out of the bar drunk on their attention. You'd seen it, but you'd never had the full power of that intoxicating attention turned on you before.

"I-"

Geto cut in before you could voice your concerns, "I know the dirty stories you and Shoko send back and forth. Don't you want to know what it's like? Experience it for yourself instead of just reading about it?"

It was rare you were flustered around your longtime friends, but you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Y'do," Gojo pressed, "I know you do."

When you whipped back around to face him, he hooked a finger in his blindfold and pulled it down around his neck. It was impossible to lie when faced with the infinite facets of those blue eyes; they would see right through you.

"O-okay."

The word was barely there, barely out of your mouth, when Gojo pushed forward, swallowing the last syllable.

Geto shifted, turning on the couch and pulling you into his lap. Gojo followed, chasing your lips with his.

It was immediately too much. Geto's cologne, something deep and woodsy, enveloped you while his too-big hands ran down your arms. Gojo's knee pushed between your thighs, his arms caging you in against Geto's chest.

Suddenly, Gojo was gone. Geto threaded his fingers into the white locks and pulled the other man back with a sharp tug. Gojo was looking over your head, at Geto, but the gleam in his eyes made your stomach tighten all the same.

"Slow down," Geto warned, his voice soft and lazy and no less of a command.

"'S hard," Gojo whined, "She's so sweet. Go on, you try."

Gojo fell back on his haunches to watch as Geto tangled his hand in your hair instead, turning your head enough to meet his steady gaze. Without thinking, you lifted your chin and parted your lips, inviting him to kiss you.

The smile that spread across Geto's face sent warmth fluttering through you. You wanted to please him. Wanted him to give you that warm, doting smile again.

His lips slotted over yours, more purposefully than Gojo's had, quickly coaxing you to open up for him, to allow his tongue to press into you.

"I'm gonna take your pants off, 'kay?"

You moaned into Geto's mouth in response to Gojo's question, lifting your hips in aid and invitation.

"Fuck, Geto, you've gotta see these."

Languidly, Geto pulled away, leaving you panting, to see what Gojo had uncovered.

Gojo slid a finger into the waistband of your lacy panties, letting them snap against your skin.

Geto didn't need to speak, you could feel his approval stirring against your lower back.

"D'ya think she matched for us?" Gojo said excitedly, plucking at the hem of your shirt.

"Well?" Geto pressed, taking the hem from Gojo and dragging your shirt up your torso.

Dazed you nodded, then shook your head furiously.

Gojo laughed, "Which is it?"

"They match," you muttered, "But it wasn't for you."

"Don't be stupid," Geto chided from over your head, musing your hair as he tugged off your shirt, "It's all for us." 

[rainbowsky]

Ok I am the turtle who asked about the breakup cpn, with the kadien and things. I have been told that is rude and hurtful and im sorry Mr Rbs, I do not want to cause you stress. I follow cuz I am autistic and I like that you are too but autistics still rub each others fur the wrong way sometimes just like anybody so im sorry if I did that. Have a great day and stay healthy and may YiZhan stay happily married and one day get to safely come out if they want!

...

I don't even know what to say to this.

Who told you that it was 'rude' and 'hurtful'? It certainly wasn't me. I don't have a problem with people asking me honest questions that are in good faith. I answer all kinds of asks, regardless of my reaction to them.

I'm sure whoever said that to you meant well, but I don't want anyone putting words in my mouth. Whatever they said to you, that was their own perspective.

As for your ask, it actually did annoy me a bit, but not because there was anything rude or hurtful about it. I was annoyed because it contained things that are long-standing sources of annoyance for me (which isn't your fault).

First of all, you said "I know you don't believe kadian" which - honestly I've heard people say this before and I find it frustrating. I literally have a whole post that is prominently placed on my masterlist post, where I state pretty clearly that kadian is real. So when people say things like this it feels like they aren't paying any attention and are just making assumptions about me, or else they have poor reading comprehension.

I'm going to be really clear about this:

Being skeptical is not the same thing as being dismissive.

I am skeptical about a lot of candy and CPN, but that doesn't mean I don't buy candy and CPN. It just means that the candy and CPN I do buy is stuff I genuinely believe in - not because it's cute or makes me feel good (nothing wrong with that, but it's not what gets me excited), but rather because I've evaluated it and I feel (based on my own criteria) that it's well substantiated and real.

Contrary to another popular myth about me that also frustrates me (the ridiculous idea that I don't buy CPN and candy) - a huge percentage of my blog is devoted to CPN and candy, and in fact I think CPN and candy are pretty critical to turtledom.

I say this all the time and I hope it will sink in: it's never wise to paint with too broad a brush. Nuance, people. Not everything is black and white. Most things are grey. Just because I seem like a doubter on a lot of things, doesn't mean I don't have my own CPN, and doesn't mean I don't hold a lot of candy close to my heart, much of which I think is important and unwashable.

It seems like some people see a personality trait in someone and then try to extrapolate it across everything about them. Not only is it inaccurate, frankly it betrays a certain level of intellectual laziness. "Oh, here's the funny guy, everything's a joke to him." "Oh, here's the serious guy, he has no sense of humor." "Oh, here's the cutesy girl, she won't like this scary movie."

People are complex and often contradictory creatures. We shouldn't assume we have a read on someone just because we've picked up on a few of their character traits.

As for kadian - in my post about kadian I went to some pains to show that kadian is real, so I don't get why there's anyone out there who would think I don't 'believe' in it. In reality I think people who don't 'believe' in kadian as a concept are uninformed and out of touch. 'Not believing' in kadian would be like 'not believing' in slang acronyms like LOL and OMG.

Back to that 'broad brush' thing I just said - just because kadian is real, that doesn't mean a particular perceived kadian is real and intentionally placed. These things have to be examined in context in order to be properly evaluated.

You can refer back to my kadian post for all that.

On to the other, bigger reason your ask frustrated me.

Just Say No To The Turtle Binary

Your ask was about a 'kadian' you thought you saw in DD's post about being sick, and you felt it was evidence of a breakup.

Without realizing it, you stepped into something that bugs me about the fandom.

If you've been following me for any amount of time at all, you will know that one of my absolute pet peeves in this fandom is when turtles take everything GG and DD say or do as being deeply significant to their relationship. As I've said before -

👉🏻 almost nothing from or about GG or DD will actually be a candy. 👈🏻

I think the key to respecting and honoring their humanity is to love them as individuals first and foremost, and as a couple second. When we fixate entirely on their relationship we end up accidentally dehumanizing them and failing to recognize, respect and celebrate their individual achievements.

There are a lot of turtles in this fandom who take every single thing GG and DD do as either proof they are together, or else proof they are not together. And frankly, that doesn't make any rational sense.

If you've ever been in a long term relationship - or a relationship of any kind, whether family or friends - you should already know that almost nothing in our daily lives is about that relationship. Our day-to-day lives tend to revolve around work, school, hobbies and interests, other social interests and obligations. Almost nothing we do in our day to day lives is about any one particular relationship.

Just look at my own blog here. How often do I mention my partner? Almost never. But we've been married for years, and he's the most important person in my life. Why don't I mention him more? Because my life doesn't revolve around him.

GG and DD are no different. They are real, non-fictional human beings with busy lives and successful careers, and they have a ton of obligations and focuses and pursuits in their daily lives. Almost none of it is about each other. Why, then, would people be so ready to think that every post, every gesture, every clothing option, every decision, every goal is about each other?

Not only is that absurd just on the face of it, it's also absurd when you consider that the vast majority of things that ARE related to their relationship will never be made public for you and I to see.

Their lives are almost entirely focused on their careers. They work hard, they have packed schedules. They no doubt spend a lot of time connected to each other behind the scenes, via texts, video chat, etc. but most of their time will be taken up with their work, and with meetings and discussions with various handlers and brands and management and other career-related contacts.

It's going to be rare for us to catch a glimpse of something related to each other, because such things are going to be rare in their daily lives and in most cases shared privately.

So I am deeply dismayed when DD can't even call in sick without people assuming a break-up. It's not right. My god, let the man be sick for a day.

When it comes to kadian we need to remember that the context is actually more important than the numbers. What is the likelihood that any particular message is about something to do with their relationship? What is the likelihood that something important is going to be discussed or disclosed in that particular venue or format? What is the likelihood that GG and DD are going to send out key messages about their personal and private relationship in the timing of a Head and Shoulders ad?

DD is in the middle of promoting his new film, which - at the time - was just days away from being released. Can you honestly believe for one hot second that he's going to pick that time - of all the times in the world - to dicker around with cryptic, deeply consequential messages about his relationship? Consider his priorities, here. Consider the context and venue.

And have some empathy for the sick guy who was just trying to quell rumors that were flying about him.

When we evaluate anything they are saying or doing, we should be kind and empathetic about it, and on their side.

There were a lot of anti messages going around when he called in sick that day. People had all sorts of nasty theories about why he called in sick, including a theory that he was trying to generate sympathy to boost ticket sales.

Imagine that. Imagine if calling in sick to work made that big of an impact on your life and reputation? NO PRESSURE.

Like, woah. No wonder the guy never takes any time off anymore. No wonder he pushes through when he's got a sprained ankle or is practically falling over from exhaustion. The man can't take a day off without all hell breaking loose.

I expect that kind of thing from antis, but not from turtles. It's very disappointing.

A final note:

Another important thing I want people to fully understand and accept:

My failure to answer an ask is no commentary whatsoever on what I thought about that ask or about that person.

Anyone who has been following me for any amount of time at all should know that. I answer as many asks that annoy me as I do ones that make me laugh, smile or reflect.

In reality, if I don't answer your ask it's 99.9% of the time for one of these reasons:

I don't have time - I've been incredibly busy lately and have had very little time on Tumblr. Most of that time is spent scrambling to keep up with the content GG and DD and turtles have been releasing/discussing. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that this is pretty much always the reason I haven't answered an ask.

It's something I have already thoroughly covered, which can be found easily by doing even the barest search of my blog or browsing through my masterlist post. Given how little time I have for Tumblr, I'm not likely to spend much of it repeating myself.

It's a complicated question that will take a lot of time to answer, so the question ended up in my drafts folder as I pick away at it over weeks and months. My drafts folder is almost as backlogged as my inbox.

IT WAS NOT A QUESTION. I get quite a few of these. I've said this many times - my inbox is for questions.

Of course, anti BS, hate asks, etc. don't see the light of day, either, but that goes without saying.

If you've asked a question in good faith and it's not been answered, it's for one of the top 3 reasons on the list.

So, Anon, I found your ask frustrating, but I didn't find it 'rude' or 'hurtful'. And even though I found it frustrating, I didn't hold it against you because I know that approach is common among turtles. It's just a fairly standard part of the fandom that - while frustrating - I've more or less accepted as 'the way things are'.

So, no hard feelings. You didn't do anything wrong AFAIAC. I think you might want to do a bit more critical thinking than seems evident based on what you sent me, but you weren't rude or hurtful.

And to be clear, Anon: most of what I'm saying in this post isn't aimed at you. Like I said, I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about a couple of things, and you were unfortunate enough to accidentally stumble across it. I definitely don't hold anything against you.

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

One FAQ to Rule Them All...

Because I'm lazy, I'm putting all of my info in one place! General rules, resources, and answers to common questions can all be found here with appropriate links!

My Blogs

I currently have three other blogs, which are listed below!

My main Transformers blog is here! It's the one I started with and the biggest, if you would like the most comprehensive look at my writing I'd suggest starting here!

My NSFW Transformers blog is here! I started this one with the intent of doing all kinds of raunchy asks but it evolved into a transformers focused blog just because!

My Lego Monkie Kid blog is here! This one doesn't see much activity anymore, but feel free to check it out!

My Requests

So, why am I here? I got started writing requests for free, and I still do them now when my schedule permits! You can pop into my ask box whenever it's open, give me a short synopsis, and I'll write headcanons or short stories. Whether you prefer to be wordy in your request or just drop in with the bare details, I'll absolutely make it happen if inspiration hits. I do try to answer everything in my inbox eventually, but I can't guarantee it, so please don't take it personally. There are many ideas I LOVE but just don't have the spoons to answer properly!

Requests can include as many characters as you'd like, but I always reserve the right to select whichever ones work best for me.

My Commissions

If you've seen my writing and like it enough to want something more tailored to your needs, be on the lookout for when I open up commissions! My current status can be found at the top of my page!

My Rules

I like to keep things casual so I don't have many rules, but here are the essentials, please message me for any clarification.

1. I expect a basic level of decency from anyone on my page and posts, and reserve the right to block without question. Thankfully this one isn't too hard, just don't be a jerk and we'll get along, but still needs to be posted because some people can never remember to behave!

2. If you ever have any issues with anything I've posted, like wanting a tag to be introduced, please notify me through my direct messages! As a forewarning, I will not answer if your issue is related to a ship, headcanon or canon divergence in my writing. You're free to block me and move on with your day, as we both have better things to do!

3. Requests will be answered if and when I have the time and inspiration. There's no problem asking me what I am working on, but repeated inquiring will be ignored. Yes, this means it may never be answered, but unfortunately I work a full time job and just can't dedicate the hours I'd need to answer every ask. Maybe someday that will change!

4. This particular blog will have SFW and NSFW posts, so PLEASE don't follow unless you're 18+!

Common Questions

1. Do I have to pay for requests? Nope! You can leave as many as you want in my inbox, but the caveat is I get to choose which to write and when. If you want to guarantee something is written you have to commission me when I have them open.

2. What are prompts? I tend to enjoy applying the same scenario to different characters, as I find it a fantastic writing excercise, so I will develop prompts around specific situations as a kind of shorthand! The name of a prompt will usually be in the tags, but if I haven't written it in a while a link is always helpful!

3. Will you roleplay with me? I'm afraid I'm just not much into RP, sorry!

That's all for now! Thank you and have a lovely day!

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 3: Love Story | Read Chapter 2: Clean!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - MATURE ((for now, but there WILL BE explicit stuff later sooo (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, ofc, especially sexual tension out the wahzoo. Adult language. Alotta feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Fighting. Insults, Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at a 50.6% but ends up at about a 67.9 % in this chapter). Also I'm feeling lazy so these tags are incomplete. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 10.5k

Summary!: You're forced to play nice with Ezra for one night and things between you two reach a new peak.

A/N: REWRITTEN AND REFORMATTED ON: 12/26/23

******

“I got tired of waiting

Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around,”

Your mind slowly lets go of the interaction with Ezra. You get washed up, dressed, and manage to eat a couple of bit bars before you grab your equipment and walk out to the dig site, seeing the familiar faces of your crew also heading over there. The downpour is now steady, rhythmic as it falls, and soon the ground is dampened.

As the crew heads out to the site, Ezra is right there with you all, trying his best to keep his mind off of you. He’s doing a piss poor job of it, though. His mind keeps wandering back despite his best efforts; the way you make him feel both incredibly infuriated and yet incredibly attracted to you. There’s something about you that’s just so damn... captivating. Blessed mother, he can’t wrap his head around it. You’re like the hypnotizing flame and he’s the poorest of moths, helpless to stay away and doomed to burn. He knows it isn't healthy, but he can't help himself. He keeps finding reasons to be around you, even when he knows it isn't the smartest thing to do.

You find a good and relatively isolated spot to work, just a few yards from the rest of the crew and you begin your setup. The dig site is a good 500 square feet, with grids separated by flags to mark the boundary between one space and another. Each area per prospector is about 10 feet around, though it’s hard to say how many gems can be found in one sight. Once you finish with one, the boss removes that mark from the drawn grid map, and it is then considered a barren area before you move on to the next space. It’s nothing too complex, but it does take up plenty of time in the day.

As you settle into your space, you double-check your radio, ensuring your signal is functioning properly. 

“Test.. test.. 1-2, 1-2…” You say quietly as you begin to unpack your tool kit and kneel on the damp soil. 

“Signal RO-4379, copy.” You hear your boss call back. You look up to his spot as he overlooks from the watchtower and you both give each other a thumbs-up. Out here, radio signals are all on throughout the shifts, and you can hear the thrum of the other workers through your earpiece, but you're so used to it now that you can easily tune it out if necessary.

Ezra finds a spot for himself near the middle of the site and starts his own work after checking his own signal, hearing yours and his heart skipping a beat for a moment. But he ignores it and tries to focus on the task at hand. His mind keeps wandering back to you still, even with the labor head of him. He can't help it, his thoughts just keep cycling back to the conversation from this morning. And more the topic of it: that mysterious, captivating, frustrating girl. He lets out a deep sigh, trying to just keep busy and push the thoughts away for now. But it's hard. It's so hard. He's never felt like this before. He'd never felt this level of attraction to someone before. It's maddening.

As you work, you recognize the chattier voices amongst the men. There is one very clear voice missing from the lull of conversation though. Ezra. He hasn't said a word, not one bit. The verbosity he usually shows is gone. He's clearly much more distracted than usual, and it doesn't take being a rocket scientist to guess why. Your eyes scan the site for him and you spot his helmet a few yards away, the man himself standing a few feet from it as if he just threw it down and walked away. Which, of course, is exactly what he did.

He was so consumed with thoughts about you that he couldn't even think straight. He had to get away before those thoughts threatened to eat him alive. And so, he’s walked away. Now, he's standing off to the side, staring blankly at the ground. He's trying to sort out his mental natterings, trying to forget about you and your infuriatingly captivating ways. But no matter how hard he tries, he’s failing miserably.

You see him standing there, a troubled look on his face, and you feel overwhelmed with the urge to comfort him, surprisingly. But you don't, turning away fully and continuing your work, forcing yourself to focus on the day's labor. Whatever is on his mind is his business, and he’s adult enough to sort it out, you decide.

But, Ezra’s mind is a storm of emotion as he struggles to hold back everything he's feeling about you. The confusion, the frustration, the attraction, the anger. It's all swimming around in his head; a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. And he doesn't know how he's supposed to sort it all out. Finally, something inside of him just snaps, and he yells out loud. 

"Damn it!" He slams his fist into the ground, almost as a way to try and release all the bottled-up frustrations inside of him.

The outburst makes everyone stop their work. You turn to look at him and see his expression. No one moves for a long time, not even him. But you do. You straighten up and walk over to him.  

"You, come with me. Now." You say, leaving no room for argument. He turns, surprised by the firm tone in your voice. He doesn't argue, though. Not after what he just said, how he just acted. He just nods and follows you, wondering where this is going. He's still not sure exactly what to say or do, but something about you is making him feel less like he's going to explode, even just the simple act of you being near him makes the tension in him soften. A small smile forms on his face. Maybe this won't be such a terrible day after all.

You feel the rest of the crew's eyes on you both as you two walk off together, and you know it'll likely be dinnertime's gossip, but you don't care. When you two are finally far away enough, you stop and turn around to face him. 

"What in Kevva's name was that?" You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest. Ezra sighs as he looks at you. 

"You heard that, huh?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He looks almost embarrassed, but then he tries to hide it with a small smirk that doesn’t come across as convincingly as he wants it to.

“Yeah, kinda hard not to hear your little temper tantrum.” His smirk widens and he sighs quietly as he runs a gloved hand through his hair.

"What can I say, rook? You... you make me crazy. Sometimes, I just... I don't know how to react." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You have that effect on me." You bristle at that, at his admission. You're not sure to be flattered or offended. And he notices. Ezra raises an eyebrow again. 

"You should be flattered," he says with a small smile. "No one else has ever had this effect on me. You're... well, you're special, rook." He lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. "You're just frustratin’... in a good way... mostly." He chuckles, trying his best to diffuse the tension. "You're like a puzzle I can't figure out, and it's drivin’ me nuts. But in the best way possible. Do ya know what I mean?"

“Why are you so concerned with ‘figuring me out’?” You ask him, crossing your arms again.

“I find you perplexin’, rook, and… infuriatingly interestin’.” He says with a light shrug. “Which, as I previously indulged, doesn’t happen often.” He repeats. 

"So I should be... flattered? Flattered that you just stopped our progress on this dig and threw a temper tantrum because you can't keep it in your pants?" You ask, scoffing. "We're here to work, Ezra." You respond, narrowing your eyes at him.

Ezra goes scarlet as you throw the word "pants'' out there, almost as if it were some kind of curse word. He clears his throat before responding. "That's... not exactly what I meant, now is it?" he says, a bit of an amused look on his face. "Look, I know I got a little carried away, but... can you honestly say you have no idea what I'm talkin’ about? The way you make me feel? The way you make me want to do anythin’ for you?"

"Ok, now you're just yanking my chain." You say with an eye roll. "You've never liked me, Ezra." You say. "From the moment we met, you made your disdain for me clear." Ezra rolls his eyes right back. 

"You're half right," he admits, a wide smile coming across his face. "I didn't like you when we first met, and I have no problem admittin’ that. In fact, I didn't like you for a long time-”

“Let me guess: because I’m a woman-?”

“Because,” He interrupts you. “You didn’t want to learn. You had yourself convinced you knew everything there was to know about the labor because of how you grew up, ain’t that right?” You don’t answer that but he smiles anyway. “But you've grown on me, ya know? You're almost... tolerable now." He smirks, almost as if he's joking, but there's a hint of truth behind his words.

"Oh, wow! The great Ezra has called me ‘tolerable,’ allow me to try and contain my swooning!" You say, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you narrow your eyes at him.

"I suppose sarcasm was the only response I should've expected from you," he says with a smile, a small smirk on his face. "But come on, are you really goin’ to tell me you haven't felt... somethin’ between us?" He looks at you pointedly, then shakes his head. "Maybe I'm wrong... maybe I'm just seein’ things that aren't there..." He looks away for a moment, clearly thinking. "But I don't know ... it certainly feels like somethin’."

You scoff. "Yeah, it's called heat exhaustion, could be deadly if you're not careful." Your alarms ring and you sigh, a warning from the boss that you're both taking too long. "Get your head in the game, Ezra. We've got work to do." You say and begin walking back to the site.

Ezra sighs as he turns and follows after you. As you two reach your places, the prospectors begin to whisper and cast glances your way. Most of them have a look of interest or amusement on their faces, though a few look slightly concerned. Ezra doesn't pay them much mind as he tries to focus on his work. He does, however, keep sneaking some looks at you, as if his eyes just can’t help but want to drift to you again and again. 

As you all settle back into the rhythm of work, he can't shake the strange feeling in his stomach. Is it excitement? Anxiety? He isn't exactly sure what to call it. But no matter what, there’s definitely something between him and you, he knows that now. He keeps stealing glances at you throughout the day, hoping to steal just a small smile. But you keep your eyes from him even as you practically feel his gaze burning into your back, forcing yourself to stay focused on the prospecting ahead of you. He finds himself admiring your dedication and work ethic, despite your brief confrontation. 

Eventually, he seems to relax, even though the tension never leaves his shoulders and that furrow between his brows never truly softens. But, the day goes on and you’re overall pleased with how the work pans out, even if the mud makes things harder than you’d like.

The next three days pass by slowly. Due to two things in particular: the rain that persists, making things overall more difficult for you all… And Ezra’s behavior. 

Seemingly overnight, Ezra’s usual chattiness has lessened. He still engages in pleasantries with the crew at breakfast and at dinner, but his conversations are surface-level, without that signature philosophical wax-poetic bite that’s become synonymous with him. And it’s only worse out in the digs, where his silence is practically felt. Something else almost makes up for it though. 

In the span of those three days, Ezra’s eyes are on you more so than they have been for the last almost five months. They’re fixated on you from the moment your shift starts, until right before your shift ends. You know it even when you’re not facing him directly, like a tingling heat that settles over you like a second skin. 

It makes you feel so good yet so angry at the same time, which again, almost fills the gap of Ezra’s constant talking. The only time you don’t feel it is when you’re in your tent, and the feel-good mix is then replaced by a cocktail of loneliness, guilt, and even… regret that settles heavily on your heart like a rock.

It begins to actually affect you, not as significantly as it does him, but you find yourself feeling… off, in a way you don’t think you ever have before.

The other prospectors notice the shifts in your respective demeanors but no one brings it up, not even Denver, your crew leader and boss for this expedition. He’s an older man - maybe 50, if you had to guess - older than either you or Ezra, who keeps all of you in check when he needs to. The fact that he hasn’t spoken to either of you to correct this is surprising to you. But it makes you think that maybe you’re just overthinking this whole mess. 

Until the fourth day rolls around.

The morning is boring, dull, and grey. It’s unusually quiet in the dining tent, well, as quiet as it can be with about 25 bodies in a space of about 100 feet. You grab your food quickly and scan the room. Denver is sitting with his usual group, save for his right hand. Ezra must’ve overslept. Something he rarely does, now that you think about it. As you’re exiting the tent with your tray, you’re bumped from behind, almost spilling your food all over the forest floor.

“Hey, what the-?!” Before you can finish, Isaiah runs towards the personal tents. You watch him with interest but you don’t follow him, hoping that whatever it is, it’s nothing severe. Isaiah was another member of the crew, only a year or so younger than you. You didn’t talk to him much but he seemed like a good kid, if a little skittish. Other than that all you knew about him was that he was a recent father to a baby girl and had married his high school sweetheart. You shake your head lightly and eat at the nearest tree, taking in the sight of the forest as you do. Your mind keeps bringing Ezra up but you try to fight it, instead focusing on coming up with a game plan on how to tackle the day. Hopefully, it all goes well.

Well, you were pretty wrong about that. It had been a long and frankly frustrating day. You’d gotten much less out of the harvest than you had expected. It had been hours spent under the clouds and a blanket of humidity with very few gems to show for it. You’ve just finished up dinner when the rain finally gives you all a rest. You’re on your way back to your tent when Denver strolls up to you.

“Hey, colt,” Denver says. “Good evening.”

“Sir?” You ask. “Is something wrong?” 

“Yes and no,” He says. “I just wanted to let you know that you’ll be taking over Isaiah’s guard post tonight. He seems to have come down with something. I know it’s last minute but I just went to check in on him and he’s been hunched over his toilet, puking his guts out for the last ten minutes.” You nod at him, even as your face contorts in disgust. He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. So, can I count on you?”

“Of course, that’s no problem.” You say and are about to walk away, thinking the conversation is over. But then he speaks again,

“Ezra will be joining you as well. He was supposed to cover for Theodore tomorrow night, but when I mentioned you would be covering Isaiah, he talked to Theo and got him to find someone else to cover him.” You pause and your brow furrows.

“No offense to your judgment, sir, but I really don’t need a babysitter.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Denver smirks slightly, but his eyes remain kind.

“I’m well aware, colt, no offense taken. But Ezra pointed out that during his watch two nights ago, he noticed some groups landing near here. I’ve been keeping the post occupied with two crew members a night, and I won’t have you alone tonight if things go sideways.”

“Then, pair me with someone else, anyone else. This is not… ideal.” You’re starting to sound petulant and almost insubordinate, but you stand your ground. It sounds more genuine than you intended… because it’s true. You’re barely able to keep the tension at bay between you two now by staying out of his way and giving him a wide berth as a buffer. But the idea of being alone with him all night at a small guard post surrounded by nothing other than his… Ezra-ness and this situation between you two is… terrifying.

“C’mon, colt, I know you and Ezra aren’t the best of mates, but surely you can put your differences aside, can’t you?” He asks. “He seems to be alright with it.” You frown and almost protest but you can’t deny Denver. He’s a great boss, all things considered. Strict, but kind. A firm hand, but a gentle one. He could easily weed out the problematic crew members and made sure to handle them before they ever became an issue. He was a rare find in this business, that you were sure of. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to get on his bad side. You knew what that looked like and it wasn’t pretty.

You take a long, deep breath and plaster a clearly fake smile on your face. “Of course we can, sir.” You respond, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he sees your reaction. But he smiles anyway and nods.

“Good, shift starts in two hours. Try not to kill each other.” He chuckles lightly and heads into the dining tent without another glance back. As soon as he’s gone, your smile drops, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair. Well, this’ll be interesting.

You decide to take a good hour-and-a-half nap before the night watch starts. When you wake up again, you’re not as irritable, but still peeved by the situation. You wash up quickly and prepare yourself for the task ahead. The feeling of being forced into this shift gnaws on your nerves the whole while. You don't need a babysitter, but Denver seems to think otherwise. Still, it’s not like you can ignore his orders. Just do the job and be done with this, it’s only for one night, you think.

You leave the tent and begin your lonely walk toward the guard post, though it’s a much more rustic setup than it sounds. Really, it’s just a makeshift tower the entire crew built with a ladder and four wooden planks cemented together on top of sturdy beams and a tarp to shield from any bad weather. There’s nothing much but only a couple of chairs set up for the guards of the shift.

You arrive and thankfully you’re the first to show up for duty. You climb the ladder as quickly as possible, feeling better once you’re on stable footing. You set your pack down and begin taking out your thrower, your radio, your helmet, and your binoculars. You’re facing directly north, on the opposite side to where the ladder is, and you grab your binoculars, doing a quick sweep of the nearby forest. 

Sure enough, there’s a campfire in the distance, about a few miles away, and you see the smoke of another one not too far behind that. You click your teeth under your breath, hating that Ezra had been right. Speaking of which… you hear the sounds of someone else climbing the ladder and turn to glance at him over your shoulder.

“Honey, I’m home.” He huffs as he takes the final step into the watchtower. You snort and turn to face him, still irritated. “Ready?” he asks, his dark eyes locked onto yours, “Or are you goin’ to request someone else?” He says a subtle jab.

You let out a sardonic bark of a laugh.

“Even if I wanted a different partner, apparently you’ve convinced Denver I can’t do this without you,” you say with a frown. There’s an awkward tension in the air between the two of you as Ezra responds.

“I was only bein’ realistic, I just told him you could utilize my aid and abettin’.” He says, “I assured our chief executive we could be civilized about this.” You roll your eyes.

“We don’t need to be friendly, we just need to get this done.” You say simply. Ezra stands motionless for a moment as if he’s holding himself back from responding. 

“Fine,” he says after a few moments, “let’s get it done then.” He rolls his eyes and throws his bag down next to yours as he puts on his helmet, his gun strapped to his hip. “Just try not to get us both killed,” he says, but his tone is more like an insult than a joke.

“Oh yes, sir I’ll do my absolute best.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm as you glare at him. Ezra's eyes narrow in response, and he turns away without another word. He knows the routine enough by now to be prepared, and he quickly gets things ready. He checks the settings on his gun, and the radio, and makes sure his helmet is secure. The longer the two of you are in silence, the more tense the moment becomes.

"You know," Ezra says finally, "you're really annoyin’ sometimes."

“Ditto.” Is all you quip back as you watch the trees through your binoculars Ezra glares at you for a moment, still holding the same expression, his mouth tight and his eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he sighs, and his tone softens.

"Look," he says, "we've had our fair share of disagreements. Do we really need to do this now?" He gives you a long stare, even as you refuse to turn and look at him, "We have to work together here. So I'd like to bury the hatchet, okay? Can we do that? If we're goin’ to be here all night, I'd really rather not spend that time fightin’."

“Yeah, so you keep saying, and yet you keep treating me like I’m a subordinate. You told Denver I needed you out here, well guess what? I don’t. I don’t care how many groups are out here, I don’t need a babysitter.” You say angrily.

Ezra grits his teeth for a moment, and there's a flash of anger in his gaze. But then he takes a deep breath, calming himself.

"Do you want to be workin’ this shift?" he asks. When you don’t bother to respond, he continues, "I'm not sure you understand how borin’ these nights can be. I'm just tryin’ to make conversation. If you want to be a grouch, that's fine." He gives you a smile. "Go ahead, be a grouch. I like bein’ in your company, rookie." He says, his tone slightly spiteful but still mostly genuine.

You scoff. “Whatever.” You mutter and finally return your eyes to the tree line.

Ezra sighs, and then he turns his gaze back to the forest. He lets an awkward moment pass before he speaks again. “Are you always so cold? Or am I just especially masterful at bringin’ the worst out of you?” He smiles at you. He’s trying to make amends, but he can’t resist a jab.

“Nope, just you. Guess you’re just so special.” More sarcasm from you.

Ezra laughs, "Well, I appreciate it." He lets out another sigh as the minutes tick by in awkward silence. After another five minutes, he tries again,

"Look, we're stuck here for hours. Might as well try gettin’ along, even a little." You give him another long look, that he responds to with amused mirth in his eyes. "Just tryin’ to keep us entertained, that's all. And you're a tough nut to crack."

“Geez, aren’t you a charmer?” You respond but your voice isn’t as hostile as before as you feel a slight amusement at his words. “I’ve been called a lot of things before but ‘a tough nut to crack’ is new.” You admit

Ezra gives you a small smile. "In my defense, you really are. So far you've shot down my every attempt at light banter." You roll your eyes but can’t help it as an amused smile starts creeping across your lips. "I'm still tryin’ because I hate awkward silences-" He sighs again.

“You don’t say, I hadn’t noticed!” You say mockingly, with more sarcasm.

 "-and I'm not about to say you're borin’ but..." he leaves the other half of the sentence unspoken. "You make it hard to carry on a conversation," he finishes after a minute. 

“Oh, shut up,” You quip. He laughs in response to that, 

"Well, can you blame me? You really do get a kick out of makin’ things awkward, don't you?" He asks, smirking.

“I’m the one making things awkward? Not you who’s been acting weird around me since our rendezvous at that pool?” You retort.

“It was hardly a rendezvous, rook. In my experience, rendezvous have much… happier endin’s.” His tone ends with insinuation and you look away, a short snort your only response. Ezra gives you a long stare, but he's unable to keep a serious expression. "Alright, I'll admit it," he says with a light chuckle, "I, myself, make things awkward. But you make them worse."

“I do not-!” He crosses his arms over his chest again, and he smiles as he cuts you off. 

"Ya see? It's more fun when we banter. Why don't we keep at it? We're stuck out here all night. We have to find some way to make ourselves laugh." He gestures to the wilderness around them. You hear the hiss of his helmet, which he sets on his chair. You do the same a moment later, breathing in the oxygen around you two. "We could try tellin’ jokes?"

“Jokes?” You ask with a snort. “Please don’t make me sit through ‘Ezra’s Comedy Hour’ all night, I will literally blow my brains out,” you say, though you’re clearly joking.

Ezra chuckles, "Not my best idea, I admit," he says. He's silent for a few moments before an idea hits him. He leans in, his tone hushed. "Truth or dare?" he asks. His eyes are locked on yours as he waits for you to answer. Oh, great, this isn't awkward at all, he muses to himself.

“Seriously? Kevvasake, you really are 14.” You mumble with a light smirk, shaking your head. “Ugh, fine, if it saves me from shooting myself: dare.” You say.

Ezra gives you a sly smile. "Very good," he says, "So, for this dare, you have to say somethin’ nice about me." He leans forward, locking his eyes to yours. "Somethin’ you actually mean. This is a dare, not a request."

“Oh my god, never mind,” you say, grabbing your pistol in jest.

Ezra full-on laughs at that, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon," he says, "You said dare, not ‘dare-except-for-that-one’." He gives a grin, and then he laughs again. "You'd rather shoot yourself than compliment me, huh?" You sigh.

“Alright, alright.” You say with a small grin as you think. “You’re the smartest person I know.” You admit. His eyes light up, 

"No bullshit?" He's shocked and clearly hoping for a sincere answer.

“No bullshit.” You say seriously. “You’re insanely smart… it’s actually kind of annoying,” you add that with a teasing smirk. Ezra's eyebrows raise at your last remark, but he still smiles.

 "Well," he nods, "thank you." He lets a moment of silence pass before he speaks. "That was very nice of you to say," he adds. He glances at the tree line before he leans in closer and speaks quietly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It was also a little mean," he adds in a half-whisper, "but, that's how I know it was sincere. You have to be smart to know how to make a back-handed compliment to that level." You shrug. 

“I try,” you say with a proud smirk. “Alright, your turn. Truth or dare?” You ask. Ezra takes a deep breath and nods. 

"Dare." He says, immediately regretting his decision. "Hit me with your best shot. I'll do my best to comply." You take a deep breath. 

“I dare you to… do something that terrifies you.” You say, keeping it vague. Ezra crosses his arms over his chest, thinking.

"Terrifies me, you say?" he says, tapping his foot for a moment. "You're really goin’ all out with this one, aren't you?" he asks. He raises an eyebrow, his voice light, but there is a trace of hesitation in it. "How terrifyin’ we talkin’ about?" he asks.

“Well, as tempting as it is, Denver would hate it if I killed you via heart attack so… I guess just something relatively scary? Basic phobia stuff?” You offer. Ezra lets out a short bark of a laugh.

"You're a real evil one," he says, "I'll give you that." He sighs and crosses his hands over his chest. "I have acrophobia," he says, "Or a fear of heights, for the layman. I've avoided climbin’ stuff for so long because I'm scared of it." He pauses for a moment, letting that sink in. "But," he says, "a dare is a dare, and I'm not goin’ to back down."

“How do you climb the ladder then when you’re on guard duty?” You ask. 

“By tryin’ very, very hard not to look down.” He responds, making you laugh.

“Ok. I can work with that. Fine,” you look around the nearest trees. “How about you climb… this one then? As high as your fear allows?” You say, pointing to the one closest to you two. Ezra lets out a deep sigh. He stares up at the tree for a moment, and he closes his fingers into a fist. His expression is grim as he nods. 

"Fine." He says. "I'm not happy about it, but, fine." He adds after a moment. 

You two quickly descend the ladder, still keeping an eye out on the nearby forest. He begins to climb the tree, being careful not to fall out of it as he slowly makes his way up. He reaches up and takes deep breaths, trying not to think about the fact that he's so high off the ground.

He’s going at a faster rate than you thought.

“You’re doing great, champ!” You call up to him, watching him climb. Ezra laughs, 

"Oh, shut up," He continues climbing, and he tries to ignore his fear the best he can, instead trying to focus on the dare itself. You can do this, he thinks to himself. It's just a stupid dare. You can do this. He reaches a particularly thick branch, and he takes a moment to rest and catch his breath. As he does, he looks up and speaks, his voice tight. "How much higher?" he asks, "To the top?"

“It’s up to you,” you say honestly. “You ready to come down?” You ask Ezra sighs, but he doesn't move an inch. 

"Yeah," he says, "I think I'm ready. I'm just.." he says, "This is kinda a lot, you know?" He laughs a little, trying to sound unbothered. He takes a deep breath through his nose, and then he begins to climb back to safety. He moves slowly, and he makes sure to keep his eyes on his footing as he climbs. Once he reaches the ground, he turns to you and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Thanks for that," he says, "I.. hated it."

“That’s kinda the point of a dare, genius. You’re not supposed to enjoy it.” You say with a smirk. “Regardless, you did great. That was brave.” 

He's sweating from the physical activity. "It was..." He shakes his head. "A stupid dare," he says, "but I had to honor it. A man's word is all he's got in this world." He smiles and laughs to himself. He looks at you and shrugs. "You made your point though. You got a reaction out of me." He laughs. 

“Good, now come on, let’s get back up to the guard post.” You say and walk with him back. He lets you climb the ladder first and when you get back up you’re both a little winded. So, you both take your seats in the two chairs. After he catches his breath, he says, 

"So, I guess what's left is for you... Truth, or dare?"

You smirk and use your binoculars to do another sweep. “Truth.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest. He smirks.

“Chicken.” He responds. You turn towards him with a roll of your eyes. 

“You gonna ask me the question or not, vet?” You ask. He takes a second to mull it over.

“Alright, fine. Tell me… about your most embarrasin’ date.”

“Embarrassing date?” You ask. He nods, an encouraging and curious look in his eyes. You take a moment to think.

“There was one, a few years ago. It was this guy I had met at a bar.”

“Already off to a bad start.” He remarks, smirking, making you reluctantly nod in agreement.

“Don’t worry, it gets worse.” You assure and he laughs.

“Oh-ho, now you really have to tell me,”

“He was incredibly clumsy. Like insanely clumsy. I mean that’s how we met, he bumped into me and almost spilled my drink but he was really sorry about it. I didn’t think anything of it at first cuz, ya know, you can’t help something like that right?”

“Right.” He responds with a smile.

“He asked me out to dinner. The guy tripped twice before we got into the restaurant, then he almost hit a couple as he went to push my chair in for me when I took a seat.” You both begin to laugh at that.

“Oh, man. Poor sap.”

“Yeah, again, I could overlook it cuz he was cute, but then…” You pause for dramatic effect and he quirks an eyebrow.

“Then?”

“Then, we order the appetizer and he drops a mozzarella stick…” Another pause.

“C’mon, you’re killin’ me, rook, what happened?” He asks, fully invested and he leans forward in his chair.

“Well, our poor boy decides to pick it up, which first off: gross, and then he crawls almost completely underneath the table… When the waiter passes by, he trips over him, making him spill that very same couple’s food.” You take a moment to gauge his reaction and it's clear he’s trying not to laugh, placing his hand over his mouth. “And to make matters worse: after he gets up, he spills his drink on my outfit.” At that last bit, Ezra can’t hold it anymore and he laughs. A genuine belly laugh.

“Whatever happened with him?” You shrug in response. 

“He was actually pretty nice, all things considered. We’re still friends but yeah not at all what I was looking for, thank you.” His laughter dies down slowly, and his face is a little flushed. 

“Interestin’, do you commonly stay friends with your bad dates, rook?” He asks.

“Not usually, but he’s a nice guy. What’s the harm?” You say and shrug your shoulders with a small smile. He snorts.

“Oh I see, so you’re forgivin’ to everyone but me, is that it?” He asks with a smirk.

“Yup.” You say self-righteously and he rolls his eyes, making you laugh again. “Alright: truth or dare?”

“Truth.” He responds, leaning back in his seat.

“Ok… is it true that this,” You gesture to his patch of blond hair. “is a vanity thing?” He scoffs.

“Is that the worst rumor you’ve heard about me?” He asks.

“Not the worst,” You say with a smirk. “I’m just genuinely curious.” He sighs and lightly shakes his head with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“It’s genetic, actually. Comes from my mom’s side of the family.” He admits.

“Oh, c’mon,” You say and lean forward a little bit. “C’mon be honest: how much upkeep does this take daily, hm?”

“It’s just a dollop of pomade and I am out the door.” He insists.

“Oh no, I think you definitely put some serious time into this look,”

“Well, we can’t all look like we were specially crafted to bring tempestuous thoughts to the mind now, can we?” He asks, and you notice the way he lets his eyes trail over you for a moment, making you avert your eyes with a bashful smile. “Your turn then, truth or dare.” He says.

You smirk. “Dare.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Ezra takes a deep breath, and he thinks for a moment.

His expression is pensive until there's a light-bulb moment in his mind, and he laughs. "Alright," he says, and the grin on his face is wicked, "I dare you to..." He leans in close, and he says, "Make a pass at me." He says, raising an eyebrow.

You give him a long look but he’s unfazed, simply shrugging. "I'm curious to see if you can. So..." He lets out a breath. "Go ahead," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Just try." You let out an exhale through your nostrils. 

“Make a pass, how exactly?” You ask. He chuckles a bit.

"However you feel comfortable, rook. I wanna see how it's done," he says. "Hit me with your best shot, I'll play along."

You roll your eyes. “Fine. I’ll do my best,” you say sarcastically, though you are willing to see what his reaction will be.

Ezra smiles, and he folds his arms over his chest. "Go for it," he says, giving you a small smirk.

He waits. He's not breaking eye contact, and for some reason, he seems both smug and curious all at once. If he had any kind of self-awareness, he'd realize that he looks like a massive douche-bagel right now. You think for a minute and try to figure out what to do. This isn’t exactly the proper setting but…

“Screw it.” You mutter before you place a flirty smile on your face. “So… come here often?” That’s a lame start and you’re well aware of it, it sounds clunky and awkward and way too cliché.

Ezra's eyes light up, and he breaks into a laugh. "That's a classic," he says with a grin. "But truly your worst performance to date, rook. Try again. Hit me with somethin’ else. Somethin’ better."

You sigh and roll your eyes but you smirk anyway. “Alright, fair enough… How about this?” You lean forward and meet his eyes, locking your gaze with his as you lean forward. You give him your best bedroom eyes and place your hand on his knee. Just keeping it in place.

“Is… this… any better?” You ask, your voice a little lower, languid.

Ezra's heart almost skips a beat. He can feel his face turn red. "I uh, I..." he says, "I.. uh..." He clears his throat, but his blush continues on. He can still feel your hand on his knee as he recovers his composure. "This uh..." he clears his throat again. "Is definitely better, yes.”

You laugh at his reaction and pull away. “Good. You underestimate me, vet.” You say, even as your skin feels hot.

Ezra sighs. "Clearly." He crosses his arms over his chest with a crooked smile. "You surprised me, star-eyes," he says. "Well played."

“Oh it’s ‘star-eyes’ now, is it??” You ask with an amused chuckle to yourself.

Ezra's eyebrows raise at that. "What, don't like it?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "You could do a lot worse." He laughs and smirks. "My mother used to call me pretty boy, I'm sure star-eyes can't be much more offensive than that."

“Pretty boy??” You ask with a more genuine laugh. “Oh I am so saving that one,” you say.

Ezra's eyes light up. "No, wait please don't." He pleads. "That's so much worse than star-eyes." You laugh now, nodding.

“No, I am definitely saving that one.” You tease. Ezra takes a deep breath and he sighs, shaking his head. 

"You're not makin’ it easy for me, are you?" he says, but he laughs anyway, his eyes light.

“Alright, your turn: truth or dare.”

"Dare," he says. "Come on, do your worst. I'm sure you're dyin’ to." He laughs again. "What could you possibly dare that's worse than what you just did?"

“Oh, what, you think that’s the worst? Ok, smart-ass, fine… you do it too then. Make a pass at me.” You say with a smirk. He takes a deep breath. 

"Seriously?" he asks. "You want me to do what you just did?" 

“Not exactly, Einstein. Obviously, you have to put your own twist to it. So go on, do your worst: I dare you to make a pass,” you challenge

Ezra sighs. He wants to roll his eyes, but he holds back, just laughing. "This is absurd," he says, "But alright, fine." He chuckles for a minute as he plans it out. He eventually looks up at you and he smirks. "Alright, then," he says, "Just don't laugh." He raises an eyebrow. "Try to take me seriously, alright? I'm only doin’ this for the game." He sighs. "You ready?"

“You’re stalling, pretty boy,” you say, but nod anyway.

Ezra laughs, but he rolls his eyes. "Right, ok, here goes nothin’."

He begins to speak, and he holds his hands up and he makes dramatic gestures. "Dearest," he begins. "Your beauty is unmatched. I love the way you laugh." He takes another breath. God, how am I doing this? "Your smile lights up my day," he says, "There's no other like you." He says, his voice tight. You can’t help it as a smile breaks out on your face, a genuine expression with no hint of mocking or sarcasm.

“Ok, that’s actually very sweet.” You admit. “Didn’t peg you as such a romantic.” You tease

Ezra's face goes red, and he clears his throat. He looks away, looking embarrassed and nervous all at once. "You like it?" he asks. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow even as he still feels embarrassed. You nod and he smiles, scratching the back of his neck a bit. "Well, thank you, I do my best," he says, clearing his throat once more. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Are you kidding? My first attempt was garbage." You say with a grimace, embarrassed. "Luckily, I was able to recover."

Ezra nods at that. "You're not wrong." He says, still smiling. "But your second attempt, on the other hand... Masterful." He says with a light laugh, slightly shaking his head as he still can’t believe you were so bold. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” You say, feeling confident, a little cocky even. He looks at you for a moment, and he crosses his arms.

"I dare you to make me blush. And I don't mean a little blush. I mean..." he adds, "make me turn beet-red." He smiles a bit, looking a bit smug.

"Pfft, easy." You say, even as your heart immediately picks up its speed like you've just been injected with adrenaline. "Sit back," You say, your tone now serious as you stand up.

Ezra leans back, but he raises an eyebrow as you stand. "This is where it gets interestin’..." he replies. He leans back, but he looks confident, waiting for your move.

You sigh and in one swift motion, you sit on his lap, straddling him. 

“So, does this work, then?” You ask with a smug grin as you take in his reaction.

His face goes from confused to embarrassed as his face reddens again, completely taken aback by this development. He can't contain his reaction. His eyes are wide, and he freezes as you climb in his lap. He flushes even more as he can do nothing but make short, hushed sounds as you sit on his lap. What is he supposed to do, at this moment, with you so close to him? He's too flustered to do much at all.

You can't help it as your face shifts into an expression of genuine amusement, deep laughter erupting from you. "God, look at your face!" You say, pointing at his reddened cheeks. Even as you revel in your joy at one-upping him, the rational part of you is completely panicking. Why the hell did you do this?? There are a million and one other things you could’ve done, but this???

Ezra's blush deepens, and he shakes his head at you. He makes an attempt to look away, but for some reason, he feels physically incapable of doing so. He feels like a teenager, and he can barely believe that this is happening. He clears his throat, and he finally manages to look away with some very concentrated effort on his part. "You're t-too much," he says. Your proximity is driving him wild, and he can't seem to form words. As you watch, his hands are suddenly clutching the side of the seat of his chair, and they’re almost trembling as they resist the urge to touch you.

"Yeah, well, I play to win." You say with a shrug, quickly moving off of him. "Anyway, are we done with this childish little game now? We've got work to do, you know?" In reality, you're just trying to get your mind off of what happened. And you're failing. But he doesn't need to know how much it affected you.

Ezra wipes his forehead as his blush slowly begins to subside. His heart is still racing, however; it's safe to say that he won't forget this moment… not for a long time.

You snort, seeing that he’s still flustered but you decide to spare him. You grab his binoculars from his side, “Here, take these and keep watch over the south end of camp, we've still got a few hours to go." You say.

Ezra sighs, his face still slightly red. He takes the binoculars and walks over to that side of the tower. He raises them to his eyes and he tries the zoom feature as he settles back into focus. What in Kevva’s name was he thinking, asking for that? It was downright utterly foolish of him. Ezra can’t help but blush and feel embarrassed even as he tries to maintain an aura of professional indifference.

You, for the most part, do a good job of hiding how mortified you are by what you did. It shocked you as much as it did him. Maybe even more. But you keep a cool air to you the rest of the night, keeping your chat with Ezra to a minimum, feeling the tension from before feel... different now.

Ezra eventually calms down, but he still feels the occasional wave of embarrassment. His interaction with you certainly left an impression on him, one that he may not fully understand yet. He tries to hide it as best he can, but the fact of the matter is that he enjoyed every single second of it, all of it. Being so close to you, being held by you… the warmth and weight of your body on his lap sent his heart racing. He loved it, if the uncomfortable strain in his pants is now anything to go by. It all felt real and natural. But he isn't quite sure if you think similarly about the experience.

As the sun's coming up over the horizon, you're feeling exhausted. Your eyelids are actually drooping and instead of standing to full attention, you're leaning your elbows against the edge of the railing, feeling bone-tired. As you look over at Ezra, you see he's feeling very much the same. He yawns loudly. 

"Oh, this has been absolutely brutal," he says, stretching. "I think this is the longest I've ever stood out here." He looks over at you, "How are ya holdin’ up?" he asks, clearly tired. He reaches up and rubs his temples and the corners of his eyes.

“Tired." You admit, your voice is much less animated than it was earlier in the night. He chuckles.

“Do you want to sleep?” He asks. But then he yawns again and you realize he’s much more exhausted than you are.

"Rest." You say, keeping your eyes on the horizon. "I'll cover and wake you before Denver comes." You say quietly.

“You sure?” He asks. You nod again, still not looking at him as you watch the two campsites in the distance.

He lets out a sigh as he gets comfortable in a corner of the area. He lies down on the floor and closes his eyes for a moment. He tries his best to get comfortable as he waits for sleep to come.

After a few minutes, Ezra eventually relaxes enough to get to sleep, his mind starting to drift to the events earlier that night. Even now he can’t stop thinking about you. His breathing calms as he falls asleep. He lies there on his side, and he rests one arm under his head and the other close to his stomach. While he's sleeping, a few soft, soft snores occasionally escape his mouth, and he seems comfortable. At his quiet snoring, you turn to look behind you. His face is peaceful, the crease between his brows gone and his lips slightly parted as he breathes. You watch him for only a few minutes, not even realizing you've begun to smile.

As you look at him, you feel an odd warmth in your heart, something you can't quite put your finger on. But you can't deny how much you enjoy looking at his face, asleep or otherwise. You stare for only another minute before you turn back to the watch, waiting for the time to come for Denver to relieve you of your duties.

It’s half an hour later before you hear Denver call for you both. You crouch down for a moment. "Ezra, wake up." You say as softly as possible, laying a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking it to wake him up. He rubs his arms and his face as he sits up. Again, he’s surprised that your touch against him felt so... natural. He looks over at you, his face a bit groggy and tired. 

"Oh, is that the time?" he asks. He slowly stands up and stretches, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his arms over his head. "Ah, I'm ready to be done with this."

“Ditto.” You say just as Denver is climbing the last step up the tower towards you. "Sir? Good morning, how did you sleep?" You ask Denver.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Exhausting." Denver responds. “And you two? Good to see you really didn’t kill each other last night.” He says with a light chuckle. Ezra laughs too and runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm ready to hit the showers, eat some breakfast, and get some well-deserved rest." He turns back to look at you. "What about you?" he asks, turning to you. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted." You agree. 

"Get some sleep. We'll see you out on the field after lunch, alright?" Denver says.

"Understood." Ezra says, "We'll be ready at attention." He says and begins to descend the ladder. You follow after him.

As Denver takes over the watch for the morning, Ezra turns back to you, and he sighs once more as you both reach the forest ground. "Well, that was a long night." He says, rubbing his face as he tries to wake himself up a bit. He shakes his shoulders and stretches a bit more. "You want to head to the dinin’ hall now?" he asks. "Or should we grab some food and head back to the quarters?"

"I'm exhausted, I just really want to shower and get some rest before the shift. I'll eat something later." You say, rubbing your neck tiredly.

"You can't go to bed hungry," he says. "What about somethin’ light and easy? Somethin’ to carry with you?" he asks. "No one wants to go through their shift on an empty stomach." Your stomach grumbles suddenly, betraying the protest that was already forming on your lips. Ezra chuckles a little bit. "I rest my case." He says, before looking down at you and raising an eyebrow, "Is there anythin’ in particular you want me to get you from the dinin’ hall?"

"I can get it," You say, already changing direction more east towards the dining tent. "You should rest if you're tired."

Ezra sighs, a look of annoyance on his face. "Look rook, I don't want to be rude, but I'm tryin’ really hard to spoil you, even after I had to babysit you the whole night." He adds, his tone a little harsher than he intended. He folds his arms over his chest, his eyes a little harder as he stands his ground. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll find it and bring it over to you." He says, "Please?"

You roll your eyes. "Fine, goddamn, fine. Just get me whatever they're serving. I just want to eat, shower, and get some rest before the shift. I'll meet you outside the tents." You don't give him a chance to respond, instead briskly walking away to your tent.

Ezra's expression is still sour, but he eventually shakes his head. "Fine," he says as he watches you walk away.

He takes a deep breath and walks toward the dining tent to fetch your food, grumbling to himself. Ezra always wants to do everything by the books and regulations, but for a moment he forgot what a pain you are to deal with. He can’t deny that he enjoys your company, but you drive him nuts at times.

After a short while, Ezra returns with a plate of food and a small cup of coffee, all the while wearing a massive scowl.

You've showered by the time he arrives, though your expression isn't much friendlier. Still, you know when to be civil, even with Ezra. "Thank you." You say quietly, sitting on the small stool outside your tent before you grab both the plate and cup from him. You notice his lack of a plate or coffee. "You didn't get any for yourself?" You ask.

"I don't want any," he says, his tone a tad bit harsher than intended again. "That's for you, not me. So you better eat, because I'm not doin’ any favors for you after this." He says, and he's not bluffing.

You scowl at him again. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't remember asking you for any ‘favors’." You say, adding air quotes to "favors." "Just like I didn't ask you to babysit me last night either. Both times you volunteered." You say.

Ezra's face turns bright red. "Just... just eat!" he says, not wanting to argue about whether or not you asked for favors. "Why are you makin’ such a big deal about this? I'm just offerin’ to take care of you! I don't have to do this for you. You do know that, right?"

"Because do you not realize how absolutely ridiculous you're being??? What, do you think I got here by being taken care of?? I can handle myself! I don't need to be babysat, I don't need to be spoon-fed, and I sure as hell don't need y-" In your rush, you spill the food and coffee and it shocks you into silence. You hadn't meant to. Honestly. You look up at Ezra with an apologetic look, feeling immediately remorseful. "Oh god, I'm-I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" You start, but he suddenly turns on his heel and leaves without giving you a chance to finish your apology. He has nothing to say to you, none of what was said needed to be followed up. He storms away, leaving you on the ground with the spilled tray.

You watch him walk away and you could try to stop him, but you don't, realizing you both need a moment to be away from each other, to cool off. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, looking off into the trees. What now? You realize you messed up, and overreacted, and the remorse and guilt sit on your chest. You know you have to make it up to him... somehow. At the very least show him you're not a total asshole. You stand up from your stool and leave the mess on the floor, making a beeline for the dining tent.

Ezra heads to his own tent and sits inside, fuming at you for a solid five minutes. He rubs his hands over his face and takes several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Why does she do that to him? He sits for a few more minutes before deciding to get up and shower, hoping that will help clear his head.

Some time later, you approach his tent quietly, cautiously. The tray in your hands is stacked high with food, and the coffee is fresh. "Ezra?" You call out to him as you reach the entrance. "Can-" You sigh, trying to steel yourself for whatever his response may be. "Can you come out here for a second?"

Ezra hears your voice, and with a heavy sigh, he gets up and heads toward the entrance. "What is it?" he asks, as he steps out. He's in his longjohns, a black t-shirt, and black pants, his hair still wet as you realize he showered before coming out to face you again.

"I... wanted to apologize." You say quietly. "And I noticed you didn't get anything for yourself when you brought me food so..." You trail off, holding the tray out to him.

Ezra sighs as he looks at the tray of food you have in your hands. The gesture is very sweet, and he lets out another long, drawn-out sigh.

"This is very kind of you," he says, "But I don't need an apology, rook." He says.

"Yes, you do need an apology." You insist softly. "I was out of line, and I should've been more grateful for your help last night. I am sorry... really."

Ezra then looks down at the tray in your hands, and then he raises a brow at you, "I won't turn down the food." he says as he crosses his arms again, seemingly more relaxed this time. "Not after all that." Ezra leans forward, his arms still crossed as he looks at you. "But," He starts, his tone much less severe. "Just tell me... why are you tryin’ to butter me up?"

"I'm not-" you cut yourself off with a sigh. "Can't you just take this for what it is? An olive branch and not a bribe?" You ask.

He runs a hand through his hair as his eyes move from the tray, to you, and back again. "What am I supposed to do?" he asks, "Am I supposed to make up with you because you're suddenly bein’ nicer to me? Is that it?"

You sigh. "I know it's weird," You say awkwardly. "That's my fault. I shouldn't be such a pain sometimes. I just... I don't know, ok? What you said earlier made me think and- Kevva above are you going to take this damn food or not? The coffee's getting cold the longer we stand here bickering."

Ezra sighs once again. His hands slide down his arms as he drops them to his sides.

"Fine," Ezra says, "I'll eat." He grumbles, "But only because I'm hungry." He says, his tone much less harsh. Ezra reaches out and grabs the food with one hand, while the other hand grips the tray. He's still not happy with you, though, but you can tell his mood has become much less sour.

"Fine. That's fine." You say and step back. "I'm gonna go get some rest before the shift starts... Enjoy your food." You say awkwardly before you practically run from him, heading to your tent.

Ezra watches you scamper off, and he frowns again as he watches you. You are exhausting.

With not an ounce of energy left to waste, Ezra brings the food into his tent and sits down on the edge of his cot. He starts eating, but it seems like his hunger is not enough to distract him from you… yet again.

He finishes the food, and once he's done, he sets the tray aside before putting his hands behind his head and laying back on his cot.

Sleep doesn't come easy, though.

He tosses and turns on his bed for what feels like hours. He's exhausted, but the sleep refuses to come. He can't stop thinking about you. He groans, and he sits up on his bed. With an angry sigh, he throws back the covers and stands up again.

He needs to see you again.

Ezra quietly leaves his tent. He walks toward the tent that you're in, and with quick and quiet movements, he peeks inside. He doesn't want to disturb you, but he's desperate for your company. And maybe, just maybe, he feels bad for what happened between you two before you ran off.

Ezra peeks in through the plastic window to see if you’re inside. His eyes quickly adjust to the dim lighting as he seeks you out. His head swivels toward you, and his breath catches in his throat. He sees you lying on your cot peacefully. His breathing hitches, and he finds himself unable to look away. He stares for a moment, drinking in your beauty.

He can’t help it: he smiles again. He leaves you to rest, heading back to his tent with the image of your peaceful expression embedded in his brain for the rest of the day.

******

Ok soooo please ignore the fact that it's been a month since I last updated ok thank you so muuuuuch. I've been crazy busy with grad school stuff and also been traveling quite a bit so I just haven't had the time to edit and post. Whoops. But I'm making up for it - hopefully - by posting this chapter and the next all at once! Anyway, that’s it, thanks a million, hope you all enjoyed, and see you in the next one!

Tag List: @pedrocentric @luz-introvertida @castleamc @moralesfish @klara-luise18 @supernaturalgirl89 @december-gal1 @pbeatriz @castleamcc @hillarymurray4 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @sherala007 @littlemisspascal @practicalghost @donnaa @scorpio-marionette @kayleezra @amandanik23 @maxpbxtch97 @mandy-sings @lowlights @shadesofnerdlygrace @harriedandharassed @carefulnowprincess @amneris21 @horton-hears-a-honk @xdaddysprincessxx @trickstersp8 @mswarriorbabe80 @permanentlydizzy @teddy2510 @bitchwitch1981 @jedi-in-crocs (hope it’s ok that I’m tagging you all!)  

Links!

Join the Tag List here

Ao3 link here

TikTok here

Story Playlist here

The Masterlist here

Read Chapter 4: Invisible String!

[theeleventhhour]

I was looking in my inbox for your ask @catb-fics and somehow it was deleted but I wanted to do it anyway so here I am, better late than never

Favourite Van pic

It’s hard to choose only one but that I remember these are ones of my favourites

Favourite Van quote

- "I'm really in to words, so l've always wrote lyrics and stories, since I can remember really. In school I could never spell. I was a bit dyslexic, so I would always get words mixed up all the time, but I was always good at capturing a story.”

Even though he wasn’t able to read properly he managed to introduce some interesting and complex vocabulary in his songs and it fascinates me

- "My dancing style? Captain Jack Sparrow when he runs meets Austin Powers when he blows them fembots up"

Hilarious

- “I'm terrible in bed but I'm incredible with my hands.”

No comments

- "They just don't know what they're on about. They say, 'We just want to make music for ourselves.' But if you wanted to make music for yourself, why did you leave your fucking bedroom? Why play a gig? Why stick it on the internet with fucking artwork and sell it on iTunes for 79p? You want to be successful. You're just talking bullshit. I think people see through it, to be honest. If selling out means playing to 100,000 people, making them lose their shit with their best mates and their girlfriends, then I want to sell out! If it's going on a Hellmans advert and getting two million quid for it then 'Fuck, I love mayonnaise!'"

I think is such a lovely thing that he didn’t made all for fame but because he is a guy who loves music above all and wanted to share his passion

- "I've hated guitar since I started. It hurts my hands. It's heavy. It cost me money to buy when I was a kid. They break. They all sound shite and out of tune anyway. I hate face-melting guitar solos. Why would I want to melt anyone's face? I got into music to make lads bounce, girls blush and my dad feel proud. I didn't get into it to melt someone's fucking head off."

Again the purpose of what he wanted to do with his music and honestly I get the point of being not cheap invest on instruments, but I love the solos only I’m not capable yet bc I’m too lazy 😅

Favourite Van moment

Well is not only Van’s but I bet it was his idea bc wtf else could come with that? I mean ninja masks? I want to kiss his stupid brain he’s really brilliant coming up with solutions in order to pursue his dream

Him hitting himself on stage for being hyperactive:

Yeah, I always chip my teeth on the mic stand. The first show in San Francisco on the last chord, no one could see because the lights went off, but the in-ears pack came off and hit me in the eye. I came offstage with a pretty big, overhand-right-looking, swollen eyebrow. But yeah, I like moving the mic around.

And this interview (idk if it refers at the same moment

Also almost every single one interview of his early 20s, they were another level

[enigmaticpink]

Rat cages do and dont's

I thought this would be a good reference post for those who have rats are or are thinking about getting rats, considering the amount of misinformation I see on this site about rat enclosures. I honestly could make a series of posts about rat care misconceptions as a whole but I think this is a really important one. Of course there are some exceptions to these, such as in the case of hospital cages or travel/temp cages, but that's not what I'm talking about in this post.

1. Do make sure it's the proper size

Rats need about 2.5 square feet per rat, and adding height or extra levels doesn't add to this, only adding floor space will. A critter nation, a popular rat cage, can only hold four rats. Adding a unit on top doesn't increase the amount of rats you can keep in one, only adding floor space by adding a unit on the side can increase the rat limit. 32x20x24 is the absolute minimum cage dimensions. There are many other brands that meet the requirements and are suitable, make sure to always check the dimensions. Plastic neon critter trails from PetSmart are never ever acceptable.

2. Do use loose substrate all along the base.

Rats are a fossorial species that need to be able to dig and burrow, and thus need at least a few inches of a suitable substrate to be properly enriched. Lining your cage with fleece or blankets is not suitable at all and is something I see many people doing too often. This is not proper rat care. Additionally do not use paper or clay pellets as a substrate through the whole base. Certain types of pellets are okay in litter boxes but aren't a suitable substrate.

Paper bedding is often used and it's not inherently harmful but paper has very poor ammonia control and the ammonia in rat pee is very bad for their delicate respiratory systems. You will need to change this out much more frequently to insure they're not breathing in a bunch of ammonia and it will stink alot more. Plus paper bedding can be more expensive. All around I wouldn't recommend it at all.

Wood shavings are a really good option, depending on the type. Certain woods like cedar and raw pine will release chemicals that aren't good for rats at all. Pine bedding is alright if kiln dried, but some rats still may be sensitive to it, in my experience. Aspen bedding and hemp bedding are great options. Make sure the bedding isn't too dusty, certain brands are less dusty than others, but it isn't too hard to sift the dust out on your own usually.

In the case of bio-active enclosures eco earth and other types of soil make really good substrates, but this type of cage set up honestly deserves its own post.

3. Do have proper ventilation

Like stated before the ammonia in their pee is very bad for their respiratory systems, therefor a cage needs to be properly ventilated. Bin cages, tanks and aquariums, any cage that doesn't have proper ventilation on all sides, is harmful. They need to have proper air flow in and out of the cage. That's why cages with the typical four wired sides and wired top is best. I even see homemade cages with two sides made of wood and two sides made of wire cloth and this isn't okay either. (Not to mention wood cages are improper as well do to pee absorption and being able to be chewed through)

4. Don't use too many levels

Little to no levels should be used in your cage if you want an active lay out. Try replacing them with lava ledges, ropes, branches, baskets and the like, to make the cage layout more enriching and to keep them active and healthy. Ramps especially aren't recommended, this can cause laziness, hind leg degeneration, and wired ramps can cause bumble foot. Wired anything except for the sides of the cage are a big no.

Some people keep one or a minimal amount of levels and I think this is okay depending on what you do with it. I keep one level in my cage to hold a dig box but all other additional levels have been removed.

5. Do fill it with the right things

A big cage that goes above and beyond the size recommendations but isn't filled properly is still subpar. They need lots of enrichment and alot of "clutter" so to speak, to feel safe. A wide open bare cage will not make them feel secure and they will be extremely bored.

They should have lava ledges and ropes and the like for climbing. Sea grass mats and branches made of safe wood also are great. Check beforehand to see if any wooden item is made of a wood that's safe for rats, as some wood is toxic to them. I personally use grape wood and apple wood in my cage.

Foraging toys are also a great, and I'd say necessary, addition to any proper cage. They need things to keep them from getting bored, they are extremely intelligent animals and foraging toys or small puzzles like that are great for them. Actually lots of toys for parrots are great for rats.

They should have at least a few different places to sleep, such as hammocks or hides. I like to have at least one of either for everyone rat.

Fall breakers. This is extremely important to insure the safety of your rats. If your rat falls from the top of the cage, fall breakers are there to catch them and avoid potential injuries. Seagrass mats, nets, and Ikea tie holders are amazing for this, I recommend multiple. You should have enough that there's not too many open spaces your rat can fall through. They also additional give your rat more things to climb on, making the layout more active.

Rats can be littered trained, and paper litter pellets are good for litter boxes, or a different type of substrate then the one you use for the rest of the cage. Just make sure the litter tray doesn't have a wired bottom.

Also additional I recommend having nesting material available in the cage, such as Timothy hay or orchard grass or anything along those lines. They really do enjoy putting nests together with them and it adds some texture variety for them.

6. Do have proper water sources

Rats should have access to clean, fresh water at all times. They should have multiple sources of water.

Bowls aren't bad but are very likely to be spilled, spoiled, or contaminated and need to be changed at least daily. If you do give them water in a bowl they should still always have at least one bottle, though I would recommend more depending on how many rats you have.

7. Don't house rats alone

I think most know this but I'm adding it on in case. Rats are social animals and you cannot replace their need for same species companionship. They should be grouped in groups of two at minimum, and two is the absolute minimum. Three or more is actually much more recommended. Housing a rat alone for long periods of time is down right cruel.

Also don't house them with non rat animals, such as mice and hamsters and the like. They should not under any circumstances be interacting with other species, other than their fellow rats and their humans. Your cat grooming them is not cute.

If there's anything I forgot to say, feel free to add on.

[anartificialsatellite]

ADHD thoughts incoming:

I used to be (still am, tbh) terrified of forgetting to cite something or citing incorrectly or somehow otherwise inadvertently plagiarizing.

The solution to this fear is to be very thorough and very organized when writing which is something I, as a lifelong sufferer of ADHD who made it through most of my pre-college academic career completely flying by the seat of my pants, Am Not Good At.

So to compensate for a skill that doesn't come naturally and which I deftly avoided learning as a kid, I had to figure something out. One approach that is often taught to people with ADHD is to break tasks up into chunks, and this can sometimes mean breaking them into pieces that feel absurdly small. It actually works pretty darn well!

But it does feel silly, sometimes.

I think there can be a tendency to feel like systems you set up to help you or structures you use to organize yourself as a person with ADHD (or even not!) are a crutch or somehow make what you're doing not as serious or legitimate as someone else, because it feels like other people (whoever they are) don't do that or don't need to.

This isn't true.

Like, aside from the fact that everyone follows some kind of organizational structure when approaching a task, the way in which you've chosen to approach your thing (whether it's a paper or a manual task or whatever) ultimately doesn't matter for the legitimacy of the final product so long as you have done your work ethically and the final result meets the parameters it's supposed to.

Does that make sense? For example, I was given a little worksheet by a professor in undergrad when he was teaching us from the very basics how to properly write a history paper. It breaks part of the process down into really basic elements, and it feels on some level like a very simple and handhold-y system to use, because it was devised to help students who'd never written a real history paper before.

I still use it! I still use it. It works! It's a real basic tool that maybe a lot of people wouldn't need to use, but it's not like it's taking the work out of it for me. I'm still doing it. It's my research, it's my writing, and if I have to chunk out my work like a baby historian to feel confident and satisfied with it, then so fucking be it.

Sometimes the tools other people use work for you and sometimes they don't. Sometimes things you "should" be able to do don't work, or things that are meant to save you time and make your life easier don't. Another example: I manually format all my citations because I'm too lazy to edit the metadata in a lot of my Zotero sources so that it generates them properly, and even when it does I worry that it didn't.

Is it a little weird that I'm "too lazy" to do something that could ultimately save me more time and effort? Yeah, but I've found something that works for me and which I feel confident about, and that is what ultimately matters the most. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try new things, but if they don't work for you, they don't, even if they "should."

There are people who do this shit on the fly and don't need the level of explicit breakdown of a particular task that I need to be successful. But I'm not those people, and maybe you aren't either.

[joehillssimp]

Hermitfam is baaaad.

Like it's passable when you consider it's a 30-40 something year old white guy writing and performing it, but like... aside from that it's baad.

The backing beat is good, I like it. However, the chill vibes don't really match the speed Impulse pulls right after the intro poems. It honestly feels more like the backing beat for a singer than that for a rap song, missing the heavy percussion and.... BEAT, that that is typical of the genre.

Even more chill rap songs like Young and Wild and Free(Wiz Kalifa, Snoop Dogg, Bruno Mars, etc) have a set percussion and rhythm that guides the song along and helps to set the pace for the artists performing on the song. And that is really the core of the problem with this song.

Impulse doesn't know how to stay on beat, and doesn't seem to understand that the performer is supposed to stand out, but still fit into the overall composition of the song.

I won't talk about the opening bars, those are more spoken poetry and an introduction than anything. But the first real verse, despite being the strongest one, with a consistent flow, has the problem of not quite matching the backing track.

I don't much to say about it other than that, it's the best part.

Then the chorus comes in with Impulse kicking it up about half a notch speedwise, returns to that thing he did in Hermitgang where he tries to shove too many syllables into one bar, making the whole thing sound jumbled and rushed, like he didn't take the time to actually smooth out the little bumps in his writing before recording.

After that, the next 2 verses have this kind of spoken word, beat poetry, vibe to them. Which is fine, if he hadn't tried to open the song itself with speedrap.

Now it's not uncommon for rappers to have 1 verse, or a bridge in a different style than the rest of the song, but it's hardly ever the first verse, and usually when they bring on a guest, who's voice adds variety and it supposed to act as a high point in the song, before having another chorus or whatever to finish off the song.

It's a climax. So musically, Impulse has the Climax right at the start of the song, and then the rest a kind of chill slide down a lazy river. And i should say, there is nothign wrong with a slower flow, a lot of rappers from the east coast are hella successful off their slower flows, but once again, their flows are on beat, with a consistent cadence and blend with the backing track.

So when he starts off fast, and then slows down for all his other lines, which are at most 12 syllables each, it feels like he couldn't figure out what to say about the rest of the server, or that he was padding for runtime so the song would reach that 2 minute mark. Not to mention completely leaving out TFC.

And I think, that aside from there being no rhythm to the song, Impulse's voice isn't properly balanced by the rest of the beat. Impulse's voice, I wouldn't say it's high pitched, but it's very close to the tonal range that the rest of the song exists in, and so they use volume to make him stand out. It would have been better if perhaps they had taken some deep bass, and used that to set some kind of rhythm, with higher melodies that create a space for Impulse's voice to stand out, while keeping all the audio levels at reasonable levels.

As it stands, Impulse is so loud you can barely hear the beat, especially during the chorus.

I'm not good at explaining my thoughts but yeah uhhh...

In regards to impulse's writing...

Think of the consonants in a word, or line, to be like a drum beat. The way each one is stressed and unstressed, creating each hit and pause in the percussive melody.

For people not familiar with music theory, even drums have tones and pitches, and when you write a rap song, your voice becomes a part of the drums, who's tones support the melody, rather than the melody themselves like in normal singing.

And I listen to how Impulse phrases his words, and how he places his stresses and pauses, and it creates something akin to a child just beating a drum however they like, getting tired but still hitting, and then doing whatever they want on the chorus as well. it's not a good sound.

And the worst part is that I KNOW that impulse plays the drums. I KNOW that he should have a better understanding of rhythm and cadence than that shown in the song. Which makes this as a whole more disappointing.

Maybe he just doesn't understand how that all translates to writing.

I genuinely believe impulse could have made a better song, writing, cadence, overseeing the creation of the beat so it matched his creative vision....

I dunno it feels rushed.

And it sounds like a bad song.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 1/24/2023

Well, I had my break. Mostly, what I did was download a new phone game where you run a restaurant, and wasted an enormous amount of time on that. No regrets.

I said last week was my break, but it's not really a break because I'm trying hard to only do stuff when I feel like it. I did start a new art piece which is going...slowly. It's going slowly because I'm taking my time, though, and I spent a million years on hands.

I would like to write, and I have two different things I am enthusiastic about working on, but unfortunately, if I sit down and try to write, my head just goes completely empty. This happens sometimes. Hopefully it will pass. It usually does. I've been trying to take care of other chores in the meantime, so that if my inspiration eventually returns, I'll be able to take advantage of it.

I've been trying to re-read some of the older parts of Heart is a Muscle, in preparation for writing a new part. I used to really like re-reading my writing, but I haven't been feeling it, to be honest. In art, there's a thing where your eye improves at a different rate than your hand, so sometimes, all of sudden, everything you draw looks like shit, but it's because you've leveled up in the ability to perceive art, not because you've gotten worse. I don't really ever think about myself as getting better at writing. I am a lazy writer and I do what I want, and I do not strive to improve my craft. I think I maybe have improved (or maybe just changed?) over the last three years, though, which is why my old writing feels so crusty. It's also possible that I'm just sick of my own voice. Kinda surprising it took that long to happen, tbh.

In other news, my aluminum plant cuttings have been growing roots! I'm so proud of them! I might repot them soon, and try to take some cuttings from my fittonia, and possibly my daughter's peperomia (because I want one). She's going on this houseplant journey with me, plus her room has some of the best light in the house. She took one of the pups her paddle plant made to school and gave it to her teacher. 😭😭😭 You have to understand that this is possibly the first time either of my children has had any interest in the things I care about. It's nice.

I made a sourdough bread today that was significantly better than last week's sourdough. I did make the mistake of proofing it in the oven, because the house was cold. I guess it was still a little too hot (I had heated it up to as low as it could go, and then turned it off again), or I should have spritzed my loaf with oil instead of water, or maybe just re-spritzed it every ten minutes or so, but the dough dried out a little and formed a skin, which meant that it couldn't rise and caramelize properly when I baked it. It was pretty ugly, but it tasted good and was very soft and squishy on the inside. The children, apparently, really like the dense, gluey rock I baked last week; they said both loaves were equally good. Whatever, my tasteless children.

I have been trying to keep my sourdough starter fed more regularly, so I've been looking for more things to do with discard (I already do pizza, pretzels, waffles, English muffins, and bagels). This week was sourdough morning glory muffins, which were very good, as morning glory muffins go (Mr. P loves morning glory muffins). It looks like that blog has lots of good discard recipes, so I may try out some more of them.

I guess that about covers it for this week. Will I do anything next week? We'll see!