#I'm still not planning on doing this any time soon

[hellenhighwater]

If you did build the redwall and get mice, since they dont live for long, how would it work once they all passed? Would you get more or just clean the redwall set up and have it as decoration? If you did get more would you have to sanitize the redwall set up? How would you clean around it when you did have the mice (honest questions, you got a bug in my brain about trying to make a set-up for mice and keeping them, but ive never kept mice before so im wondering your plan)

Honestly, I'm not sure. I've had mice before; they are lovely little pets, but that was when I had the Terror of the Underbrush. She was a fantastic hunter but also had zero interest in my pet rodents, so it was a less risky proposition--I don't trust my current cats to not murder a loose mouse out of pure confusion. I do think I could build a cat-proof enclosure, though.

Anyways--I could sell the whole thing when the mice passed; I could get new mice. Yes, you can just clean the enclosure and introduce new ones. Part of the point of making Redwall out of ceramic is that it can be very easily cleaned and sterilized--it's exactly the same stuff as dishes are made of. I could literally throw the whole thing in the dishwasher, or dunk it in boiling water. Easy cleaning!

The main issue is that I don't want a decorative Redwall, I want a REAL Redwall. With real little guys. So while I could make felt or ceramic mice, that's not the point! I want it to be used.

So I'm probably going to find someone to pass this along to when it's done. Ideally, someone that posts their mouses, so I can see it in use. But there's also a real possibility that the brain worms will Get Me and I will make a whole little Redwall world before I slow down.

[wtfaniii]

I can do it alone, but he can also save me

Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho

Part 1 Part 2

●Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between

●Note: Thank you for welcoming me so well on this platform! I'm still learning how to use it, sorry, Wattpad is my thing LOL But I'm understanding it more now

●Warning: Maybe some drama? Some violence and discreet flirting

The reader doesn't know who is In-ho, Jun-ho refused to talk about his past with her, so she is engrossed in the true identity of this handsome man.

Well, the plan hadn't worked out the way they wanted.

They had taken away their trackers and any object, even the smallest, that they could use to defend themselves.

—Now what do we do... —Gi-hun muttered more to himself but audible to the girl in front him.

—I think the best thing to do now would be not to die —she answered seriously, the vows had been made and unfortunately, despite Gi-hun's attempts to persuade the players to withdraw, staying had been the final decision —For now we must eat if we want to win the next game —She added holding out in front of him the food the guards were giving them, but he refused to take it, he looked so lost in his own mind that she had no choice but to sigh and sit down next to him.

—Come on, open your mouth, belly full and heart happy —Jung-bae, Gi-hun's friend sitting on his right side, spoke while holding a spoon with the egg in front of his face.

—Last time I was here, many innocent people died —Gi-hun said, looking at his friend seriously. He wanted to convince him that everything he said was true and that they should leave there as soon as possible.

—Help us then.

There was a third voice that caught the girl's attention, it was number 001, the one who had the decisive vote and preferred to stay, whoever had the blue circle was a suicidal person from her perspective.

The rest of the players surrounded them waiting for some advice or positive words from the previous winner.

The girl just listened attentively to each of them, but the most interested was 001. He asked him more concise questions and spoke confidently, as if these games were not very different from the ones they played at recess when they were little.

Something that seemed curious to her.

He felt her gaze so turned it towards her so he could look the police in the eye.

Of course he had investigated her, from the moment she searched for her boyfriend on land and sea, he wouldn't say it out loud but his brother was lucky because if it hadn't been for her him would be dead under water.

Her eyes looked at him with caution and analysis, like a cat looking at a dog with distrust but ready to scratch if the situation arose.

He found it interesting.

After the rest of the players left, 001 stayed with them to continue talking until the conversation increased in tension, Gi-hun complained to him, if he hadn't voted for the circle they would have left there.

—Fine, let's stop this conversation now, there's no point in blaming each other —Jung-bae said to avoid any upcoming fight.

—That's right, now what we have to do is be prepared for the next game —She said —We have a bit of an advantage —added, looking at Gi-hun.

—I would like to join too —said number 388 jumping out of his bed.

He introduced himself as Dae-ho and the conversation changed from the winning player to the navy and the fact that both he and Jung-bae had been members.

It seemed like they would get along well and be a good team, however, the atmosphere became tense again when the purple-haired boy with the number 230 threw player 333 to the ground, being followed by 124, who kicked him in the face.

—¿Shouldn't we tell them to stop? — Jung-bae asked.

—Yes...

Seeing that neither of the two men was going to intervene, the girl stood up and walked towards them.

—That's enough, two against one isn't fair.

—You better stay out of this —Thanos pointed at her angrily, but after looking at her closely, he let out a laugh and clapped his hands, which echoed throughout the room and caught everyone's attention —I know you, you... policegirl, you arrested me a month ago.

Now she remembered it too, of course, that snobby rapper who tried to bribe her after she caught him buying and transporting drugs but she decided to ignore him and walked to 333 to shake his hand. —Get up

Before he could accept her kind gesture, Thanos pushed her back failing to knock down.

—This is not your playground, policegirl, I can do whatever the fuck I want here.

She remained silent, still with head held high, she was not afraid of him at all, she could easily defeat him but did not have time to do or say anything when 001 intervened.

—That's no way to talk to a lady.

She could defend herself, she didn't need any man to speak for her, however, that sentence seemed quite chivalrous, Jun-ho also intervened for her from time to time and that was a gesture that inevitably made her smile.

A smile that In-ho noticed.

—Is she your girlfriend? Or do you just fuck her? —As soon as he finished the word, In-ho already had him firmly held by the hair.

124 ran towards them with the intention of helping the purple-haired boy but in the blink of an eye he was already on the ground, the girl had knocked down with a kick.

With just three blows, In-ho subdued Thanos and pinned to the ground.

She silently analyzed him again, those movements were too precise to be from someone without experience, he could have been part of the police or even the navy.

They were congratulated with applause when the 230 began to gasp for air and forgiveness. As returned to their place, they both formally introduced themselves by giving respective names, a sign of trust.

Once again In-ho confirmed what thought, she was a respectable and valuable woman, one he would like to challenge more than should have for having gotten into these games.

N/A: I wanted to make a fic with a theme like that HAHA

[filmtv2022]

Part III: Our Time is Limited (18+)

Part II

Pairing: Geta x Reader (Romantic) & Platonic!Caracalla x Reader

Synopsis: Fighting back worry, Reader reveals their concerns about Acacius and Lucilla. In the dark of night, Geta & Reader find solace from the weight of the world in each other, even if the reprieve is temporary. The struggles of the empire are only part of the obstacles that move to keep Geta & Reader apart. Caracalla's illness rears its ugly head proving to Geta that protecting the ones he cares about most may not be a possibility, throwing him closer to the edge of despair and desperation.

Warnings: smut/sexual activity + drug use + violence

A/N: Oof am I excited about this installment of the story! These three have my whole heart and I'm beyond grateful to those of you who are joining me on the journey of telling this story. Some of this will continue to follow canon, but I haven't fully decided how the story will end... therefore if things diverge... don't be surprised. I'm letting these characters dictate where the story goes within the realm of my planning. And as always, please forgive me for any and all mistakes!

** I will start working on the next part soon, but work is picking up for me in the next few days. So I apologize if it takes a bit longer to get part four out!

------------------------------

The cool stone was in stark contrast to the humidity and heat that rose through the heavy air. Steam clouded your vision, marking the water's surface in swirling patterns not unlike the constellations in the night sky. Trusting your knowledge of the room, you tracked through the dark with expertly placed steps avoiding the slippery spots and sharp edges. Barefoot and clad only in the robe Caracalla had discarded before slipping into bed, your mind wandered to the events that had unfolded just hours earlier. 

You dipped your toe into the farthest bath. Warmth radiated up the length of your calf enticing you to sink into its depths. More than ready to shed the tension in your muscles and the ache of your cheek, you plucked at the knot around your waist. The heavy fabric fell off the slope of your shoulder, exposing your skin to the air. Letting it drop to the floor, you kept a firm grasp on the smoking bundle in your hand. Inhaling deeply, you allowed the medicine to sit in your lungs easing the pain and dulling your mind. 

Alone, you stood exposed to the empty space. For a moment, the haze over the water cleared revealing your reflection. Here, hidden from prying eyes you were free to map the passage of time. Youth remained in the pleasant curve of your chest and hips, and yet your eyes… they were no longer the bright windows to your former self. Tired, and anxious, you stepped carefully into the bath. Sinking down on the ledge beneath the surface, the water washed in choppy waves. 

Covered to the top of your chest, you brought the furl of dried flora to your nose once more. The foggy weight of the opium and devil’s breath wafted around you, smoothing your senses. Lost to their powerful hold, you almost missed the emperor’s approach. Geta stood beside you, admiring the glimpses of your skin. 

“You’re late.” Your head lolled to the side to look at him. The makeup he’d worn earlier had been wiped clean apart from the smudge of scarlet that painted the fatigued skin beneath his eyes. Dressed down from what he’d worn during the day, rings still adorned nearly every finger. Their stunning jewels glowed in the dim flickering torchlight that danced about the room. 

“And you are… relaxed.” Geta smiled down at you, amused with just how far gone you were. Standing beside the pool, he twisted the ring on his pinky, an anxious habit he’d picked up in his youth. 

“And I’d be better if you were in here with me. Do you intend only to watch or join?” Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to focus your vision under the influence. The deep fortifying breath you took filled your lungs with moist air and the murky lull of the opium. The pain had long since ceased and yet you continued to partake, the blend doing wonders to ease the nervous jumble of your mind. Unburdened, your free hand slid beneath the surface, teasing your pebbled nipples before dipping between your thighs. 

Under the watchful gaze of emperor Geta, you allowed your eyelids to close, blocking out the rest of the world, focusing on the brush of your fingertips along your core. In your self-imposed darkness, you listened to the muted thump of clothing being discarded beside you. Geta’s robes pooled at his feet leaving him bare and in search of the water’s pleasant heat. With care, he stepped in to join you, the waves lapped harder at the sides as his weight upset the balance. Ripples crashed upon you, marking his approach, but it was the sensation of his presence surrounding you that snapped reality into place. 

Geta’s broad palms came to rest on either side of your head, leaning his weight into his elbows so that mere centimeters separated you. Mesmerized by his beauty, you reached for him, mapping the planes of his chest with your fingertips so that glistening trails reflected back at you. 

“You’re late.” You repeated, this time the plush of his lips brushed yours as you spoke.

“As you’ve mentioned,” Geta smirked into the kiss. The velvet of his tongue exploring yours added fuel to the fire stirring within. Just as he felt you lean forward, chasing more, he pulled back earning a pitiful whimper. “Can you find forgiveness within?” 

“Perhaps.” Emboldened and consumed with need, you tossed away the bundle, its flame extinguishing in the puddle beside your discarded clothes. Entirely free, you ran an eager hand along the soft expanse of his stomach, teasing your way closer to where you knew he desired your touch the most. A sharp inhale tumbled into a choking gasp as you reached for him beneath the surface. Geta was half hard in your hand as you rolled your wrist, passing the width of your thumb over the tip and sealing the rest of the words in his lungs. Swift and gentle, you pushed against his chest, leading him across the bath to rest on the far ledge. Enveloped by steam and the feeling of your hands upon him, Geta’s head tipped back bumping lightly upon the stone. 

From this vantage point, it was impossible not to lose your senses in the delicious features of the man before you. His shoulders heaved, shuttering at your steady grip along the length of his cock. Trusting you completely, Geta’s jaw fell slack, his eyes squeezed shut, blocking out everything besides you. The thick bands of gold wrapped around his fingers bit into your waist as he pulled you closer, forcing you to balance with a knee upon the ledge beside him, your other thigh resting between his spread legs. The hand at your waist held tight while the other kept him from slipping, his hips raising to meet you, desperate for more. 

“Is this what you desire, Geta?” You whisper along the shell of his ear, timing your question with the twist of your hand. A greedy smirk wrapped around the rest of your thought. “Tell me what you want.” 

“You.” Geta’s eyes snapped open, and the dark of his pupils was blown wide, showing the depth of the lust that consumed him. Using all his strength, Gets hauled you into his lap, your lush thighs pressed along the outside of his own. In one fluid motion, the breadth of his hand fell to the base of your throat feather-light over the bruises that marred your skin, while you hastily sunk down on him. Swallowing each other’s moans, Geta devoured you in a heated kiss. Unsteady, you reached for his shoulders, using him as an anchor. 

Devoid of any thought but the storm of pleasure that continued to build, crackling in lightning strikes across every nerve in your body. The pair of you were in perfect harmony, his body moved in unerring time with your own. Leaning back, Geta pursued you, dropping his hand from your throat to lay a line of fire down the column of your neck, traversing the swell of your breasts above the water. 

Focused entirely on you, Geta groaned as your velvet walls fluttered around him. His free hand came between you, laying expertly placed brushes on your clit. The swirl of your hips faltered as did his own. The pair of you worked each other over the edge, the sound of unhindered moans echoed through the room before giving way to shaky breathes. Boneless, and weak, Geta’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest. Exhausted, he buried his face into the side of your neck. 

“Mine… you’re mine. Always.” You could feel the ghost of his words drift over your flushed skin as he spoke. His confession twisted the knot in your stomach, for you knew it was the truth you both desired, but not the reality that existed. For as long as Caracalla lived, this was all you and Geta could ever be, lovers in the night, shrouded in shadow and hidden from the world. 

“Yours… but only so far as the night allows.” At the sound of your voice, Geta sat back to look at you.

“Only so far as the night allows… though I’ll gladly take what the gods permit.” His response was met with a half smile from you. Geta studied the bleary look that remained in your eyes from the opium and devil’s breath. Even held captive to the influence of the medicine, the worry and fear from earlier at the arena returned. 

“What if the gods have abandoned us?” You murmured, pressing the pad of your thumb along the expanse of his lower lip.

“Where is this coming from?” His head cocked to the side, the scared boy returning in full force at the look on your face. “You promised a confession… that you’d tell me the concern which occupies your mind. You have my ear.” 

“I did, yes. I just… I do not know if what I speak is truth or the anxieties of a mind on edge.” You admitted sheepishly. 

“It matters not. It weighs upon you, and you mustn’t carry this burden alone.” Geta’s wide eyes looked up at you, encouraging you to share the concerns of your heart with him, to trust him in a way that no other had ever dared. For there were many who gossiped to and confided in him as an act, but never had another trusted him with their innermost contemplations. 

“It’s the General and his wife… there is something afoot with the pair of them. The way he spoke before the crowd today… Those were not the words of one loyal to Rome or you. And Lucilla… you should have seen her face when that gladiator stepped into the arena. It was as if the world fell away.” Taking a shaky breath, you reached for him, pulling his brow to rest on yours. “There’s something wrong there, Geta. You must be cautious. I need you safe, both of you.” 

“Acacius… and…” He looked past you, dropping his countenance so that he could stare into the abyss beyond. 

“Lucilla, yes," You repeated hesitantly.

“But they are…” The tremble in his hands radiated over your body as he clung to you.

“Meant to be your closest allies, I know.” 

“It cannot be true.” Geta’s voice cracked, the thoughts catching on the barbs that constricted his throat. Not wanting to lose him entirely, you held his face between your palms, your thumbs sweeping in tender arcs across his cheekbones. 

“And I hope that it isn’t, in earnest I do, but until you know for certain I pray you to keep a weather eye upon them. For I am uncertain where their true loyalties reside.” A shallow nod marked his comprehension. “You know I would not speak of this unless I believed there to be at least a thread of truth in it. Geta, you and Caracalla… you are my priorities.” 

“I know.” Words failed him. Desperate for you to know how sincerely he understood, Geta’s lips met yours. With careful hands, he fastened his hold on you, gripping tight to the back of your thighs as he lifted you to sit on the edge of the bath. The temperature change sent gooseflesh rushing over your skin, causing you to shiver, though the discomfort was short-lived. Geta followed you to the side, his hands skimming from your ankle to the bend of your knee allowing him to see the sway of pleasure at his touch before reaching for your robe. Standing to his full height, but still within the water, he swept the flowing garment over one of your shoulders. Together you threaded your arms through the holes, letting it drape behind you. Satisfied that you were protected well enough, Geta exited the steaming bath. 

Bent at the waist, he reached for his own robe. The bright carmine of the fabric was beautiful against his skin as he donned the cover. Not wanting to slip on the damp stone, you stood at a snail's pace and made your way to him. You grabbed for the ties he held in his hands while yours remained unfastened. Geta relinquished his hold without question allowing you to methodically form the knot. 

“Take me to bed, Emperor. For tonight I am yours alone. Let no fear of the future keep you from me and I shall do the same.” Tugging lightly, you felt Geta pitch toward you, his hands finding your frame to keep from tumbling further. The tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip in contemplation. 

“As you wish.” Geta deftly closed your covering, tying it loosely before reaching for your hand. His own quivered, painting a picture of the tremulous hold he had upon his nerves. On instinct, he guided you both back to his chambers. The journey was short and uneventful, only the two guards beside his door remained awake at this time of night. 

Back in the relative safety of his room, the pair of you undressed and fell into the comfortable plushness of the bed. Already spent from the night’s previous endeavors,  Geta curled into you, his strong arm protective around your middle, holding you flush with his chest. The emperor’s distant stare sat buried in your shoulder, and with each mellowing breath, he inhaled the scent of you and attempted to let go of his thoughts.  You didn’t need to see his watery eyes to know his struggle. Threading your fingers with his, you willed peace upon him, hoping that sleep would overtake him soon and relieve the pain and worry. 

A new day broke over the imperial palace. Within hours a hectic flurry of action would overtake the relative calm of the early morning, but for now, a tenuous peace remained. Geta, still free from the perils of the waking world, did not so much as stir as you gingerly pulled yourself from his arms. Dressing quickly, you found your way back to Caracalla much the same as the day before. The dull ache from your wound had returned with the absence of the opium’s presence in your system. At the back of your mind, you noted the itch to reach for more, to pull from the supply that sat ever present in Caracalla’s chambers. To your better judgment, you ignored the desire. 

Sunlight trickled into the vast room, not yet strong enough to illuminate the space in full. Heaped upon the bed, Caracalla lay tangled beneath the sheets, his bare chest milky white apart from the marks that littered his otherwise perfect skin. Dundus’s elated chirp announced your arrival. The tiny creature picked its way across the table, seeking attention and affection. Dressed in clothing fit for an emperor, Caracalla’s faithful pet and companion lept from the back of the chair he’d crawl on to get closer to you, landing upon your shoulder. Tiny hands plucked at your clothes, tickling the exposed skin at your neck. 

“Good morning, my little friend. Thank you for keeping him company.” You collected a piece of fruit from the nearby bowl and handed it to Dundus who happily accepted the gift. Like this, you made your way to Caracalla. The young man stirred in his sleep, more aware of you than you’d previously thought. At the side of the bed, the faithful animal departed, scurrying off in another direction as you pulled back the covers to join the emperor. 

“Where did you go? I woke and could not find you.” The groggy croak of his voice caught you off guard. 

“I know, forgive me.” You tucked yourself into his side, your head resting on his chest, hiding your face from him. “But I am here now.” 

“I do not like it when you are gone. I am lost.” His confession was barely more than a whisper, so low you were uncertain whether he meant for you to hear it. The bridge of your nose burned, the guilt of leaving him behind was always present, but hearing him speak candidly… it hurt more than you were prepared to handle. 

“I am never truly gone, Calla. You can always find me, here, even in the dark.” You pressed the width of your palm to the place above his heart. Caracalla’s hand came to rest on top of yours, keeping you close without asking for more. Silence descended upon you both, leaving far too much room for your mind to spin. Like this you waged war with your thoughts, counting away the minutes until the sun rose fully above the horizon. 

Almost done dressing, you ran your hands over the pleats in your stola, fixing them in place. The black and gold swirled together impeccably, fierce and sharp. Caracalla’s unassuming frame came into view beside you dressed in matching attire. Your gaze fixed on the mirror before you assessing the picture of unity the pair of you presented, but the look in the emperor’s eyes faltered the rhythm of your heart. Turning to face him, you noted the absent feel of his gaze. It was as though you barely existed in his current reality. 

Caracalla reached for you, his slender arm extended weakly, just close enough for his fingertips to brush the gold inlay of your clothing. His touch wandered haphazardly over your stomach to the curve of your hip, dragging higher and ghosting over your breasts to your collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” You stilled his movement, holding him in place. “Talk to me.” 

You craned your neck trying to look into his eyes again, but nothing came of your request. The emperor remained silent. 

“We should go, your brother is waiting… your public is waiting.” You took a step to his side, floating past him a fraction of a pace before an iron grip clamped around your bicep, ripping you backward. Off balance, you tripped over the flowing cape that draped down your back, smacking into the wall with force. A sharp pain shot through your shoulder causing you to gasp. Flat against the stone, you didn’t have time to think when another blow landed. Caracalla’s nails bit into the tender flesh around your chin, your face held like a vice in his hand.  

“Calla, stop… ” You pleaded knowing it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. You grabbed for his wrist, struggling to speak, “You’re hurting me.”

“You're mine, whore,” was all he uttered, fresh blood trickling down your face as skin tore. The slamming of the chamber doors reverberated powerfully through the room breaking his concentration long enough for you to slip from his grasp. You stumbled forward, arms extended to try and keep from falling. Your knees crashed into the unforgiving ground and rattled your thoughts. A voice called in panicked waves from whomever had entered the room. Distantly, you recognized your name but could not respond. 

As carefully as he could, Geta who had come to collect his brother, lifted you from the ground. Back on your feet, you tried to focus. You felt the strength in your knees give way as Geta wrapped you into his chest. Over the top of your head, he locked eyes with Caracalla. Still trapped in his delusion, Calla started toward the pair of you forcing Geta to bark an order. 

“Macrinus, take her.” He gestured to the silver-haired man behind him whose face was absent of emotion. 

“I’m fine.” You tried to protest, but your argument was shallow given the crack of your voice and the droplets of red that welled like shining jewels from your wounds.

“You’re not.” As gently as he could, Geta passed you to Macrinus who guided you to sit upon a nearby chair. With keen attention still on the brothers behind him, the man pulled a cloth from somewhere deep in the pocket of his robes and handed it to you. 

Across the room, Geta held onto this brother, a hand tense on his shoulder and the side of his head, keeping Caracalla's eyes from drifting toward you. Quietly he whispered, his words not powerful enough to be audible from a distance. But it did not matter, even without them, it was obvious what transpired. The struggle to bring Caracalla back to reality grew more strenuous with every fit that overtook him, each bout taking more time to end than the last. 

The world refocused around you, allowing you to really look at the relative stranger who stood beside you. Mapping his features, you noted the way time had been kind to him, such beauty lingered along with the scattering of lines that shaped his face. As if he could feel eyes upon him, Macrinus’s focus fell to you and it chilled the blood in your veins. A hardness enveloped his being, a calculated focus left his eyes void of life as though everything human about him had died. You stood to meet him, forcing the man to continue to pay attention to you rather than the emperors. 

“Leave us.” You demanded, no longer wishing for his continued company.

“What?” He scoffed in disbelief at your boldness. 

“You heard me. Leave us. Your presence is no longer necessary.” You stepped in front of the man, your hand ghosting closer to the blade strapped to your thigh. Shoulders pulled tight, you cringed at the pain that radiated down your arm, but held firm in place, preventing any ludicrous idea that he might draw closer to Geta and Caracalla.

Macrinus's eyes flicked between you and the brothers. Giving into your request, he raised his hands in resignation, humanity returning to him as he backed up before turning away from the scene. You waited for him to navigate out of sight before returning your attention to the emperors, and it was heartbreaking. Slumped cross-legged on the floor was Caracalla, his head swaying from side to side, Geta knelt before him still holding onto his brother. Tears streamed down Calla’s rosy, pockmarked cheeks. The worst of the spell appeared to have ended leaving behind the childlike shell of the once lucid emperor behind. You knew this version of him intimately. Gone was the violence, replaced by a soul-deep desperation for closeness. 

With cautious steps, not trusting the strength of your legs, you made your way to the pair. Geta chanced a look back at you over his shoulder, his own eyes wet with emotion. As you got closer you attuned your ears to Caracalla’s senseless mumbles, ignoring the warm trickle of crimson down your chin and neck. The words he spoke would have seemed meaningless to an outsider, but they were far from it.

“Lost… lost… I can’t find…” Still muttering under his breath, Caracalla reached for his brother trying to make him understand, but failing to communicate. Stepping into the space next to Geta, you lowered yourself beside him, using his shoulder for support. Your attention was focused entirely on Caracalla, but you could feel Geta’s eyes on you… watching. 

You tested the waters, making contact with the man seated before you, treading lightly with your words, “I’m here. I am not lost.” Calla’s face snapped to yours, and in an instant, he was crawling to you.

His uncoordinated limbs wrapped around you in a fierce embrace. The crown of laurels that decorated his fiery hair pinched uncomfortably at the side of your head as he buried his face in your neck. You could feel him shaking in your arms, sobs wracking his body. Locked together in a never-ending maze of time and memories, you sat back on your heels, twisting to finally sit on the floor. You gripped him tighter as you rocked smoothly from side to side. 

Geta burned to touch you, to hold you, to tend to your hurts and nurse you back to health, and yet, here with his brother, he was trapped. He pleaded with you silently, praying to the gods for forgiveness. He failed to do what he’d promised, keep you safe. The weight of the empire rested on his shoulders, its tenuous balance almost too much to bear. It was never supposed to be this way, him working alone. But all of that paled in comparison to the bone-deep guilt that chipped away at this heart when he looked at you. 

A heavy sigh fell from Geta as he ran a hand over his decorated countenance, wiping away the tears and smudging the color that surrounded his eyes. Sensing his sorrow, you extended a hand, begging for him to take it. For a moment, he hesitated, terrified of needing you and simultaneously petrified at the thought of losing you. With a simple nod, you invited him once more to take your hand, and by the mercy of the gods he did. The weight of his fingers laced with yours seemed to right the injustices of the world, giving you both the strength to carry on.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 45

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's (Mother Spore) pov*

Ok, you are done. You thought this was going to be exciting...and it was! At first...but Xonorth and that Quackity guy been talking about what is basically nothing for the last hour and it doesn't seem like It's going to stop being like this for a while still.

You are bored out of your mind, the other villains are fully out and Mumbo looks like he's one loud noise away from folding onto himself and becoming a black hole... You haven't even begun discussing the actual plan to defeat the cult thing! And that's the whole reason why you are here.

So you cough up, you get everyones attention and the room's temperature drops. Everyone is staring at you, Boogeyman is frozen, the duck guy is intrigued, Xonorth just looks offended and the others seem to just be confused.

Mumbo tries to get your attention.

"Mother Spore!"

"..."

"What do you think you are doing???"

"..."

It's kinda sad to watch him struggling like this, you wonder why he came here in the first place when he's so socially anxious. . . He does deserve a bit of an explanation though, call it pity or call it sticking to your deal with him.

"I got bored"

. . .

"Wha-"

You turn.back towards the table, the room only growing more cold as you push fungi to grow in the corners and darker spots of the room.

"I'm sure everyone here was flattered to have been invited here... However I feel the current discussion isn't going anywhere."

Xonorth hits the table with his fists and Mumbo barely restrains himself from jumping back... Xonorth just snarls at you, quite pathetic really.

"These are matters between me and him, do not speak of that which is not any of your buisness Spore."

"They became my buisness...no, our buisness, when you decided to discuss it so boldy here in front of us during this meeting... And It's Mother Spore for your information."

"How dare you! You-"

"Really it is... surprising that you would divulge your own business so freely in front of so many people. Really, if said buisness was anything of worth you would have put yourself in quite the sticky situation. Of course, luckily for you, everything you have discussed thus far was truly a waste of everyone's time."

You hear the noise of someone covering up a laugh and something resembling a dying breath, you can guess the latter was Boogeyman, call it a hunch...

Behind Xonorth tendrils grow out and spread, the others don't really look impressed, so that's how he wants to play? His loss. You can do that as well, the wall behind You is soon covered in mycelium... He even tries to attack you, sending a tendril your way but you just sidestep it and grab it, as you keep hold on it as mushrooms begin to grow onto it until it is dried out completely and turns to dust.

"Me and Boogeyman were told there would be no fighting here, clearly we were lied to."

Here the casino owner is shocked out his stupor and moves to de-escalate the tension between you and the other.

"No! Ehm, I mean, I'm sure we can resolve this like civilized men."

Can you, you are no man and Xonorth is hardly civilized.

"We have still much to discuss after all. For example-"

"The plan. To deal with that...eggpire problem?"

"Ehm, why yes!"

"Perfect, then we'll stay here a while longer, just to hear the details"

You sit back down, Boogeyman is still frozen in place, you might have to check if he's still alive though, It's hard to tell still the way his breathing is so shallow.

"Recently I have discovered a banquet is going to be held by the Egg bastards and I got an in on how to get in."

Boogeyman unfreezes at that and still slightly shaken asks one very important question.

"And why do you need us?"

"You, I need you for some technical work to deal with some of their weirdly advanced protections, they spent a pretty huge amount of capital on protecting their egg... As for everyone else I might have a way in but we need power if we want to do anything against them"

"So? You want to crash this party then?"

"That's the plan, at least the basis of it"

". . . I see, guessing there's more of it."

"Of course, that's what I hoped all of you would join me in ironing out."

[buckandbobbyweek]

FAQ

What is Buck and Bobby week?

This is a week dedicated to Buck and Bobby from 911 and celebrating their father-son relationship. While a popular relationship, it's not a relationship that people often write about. So, with this event, we make sure there are plenty of new fic for us Buck & Bobby lovers!

What is the schedule?

Today (January 4th) the poll to vote for which month to fo Buck & Bobby week went up and goes for 7 days.

After there will be a poll to determine which week it will be, also running for 7 days.

Once we have a date, I will start working on a form where you can submit prompts and share this. This will be open for around a month. Less depending on how much time is left until the chosen date.

Once the form is closed, I will make a new form where you can vote for your favorite prompts. In the end we need 21 word/trope prompts (example: hugs, navy seal buck, hurt/comfort) and 10 sentence prompts (example: "did you steal my hoodie?", "what do you think you're doing?", "have you eaten yet?")

Depending on how many prompts and the results of votes, there could be a third form with the winning prompts to narrow it down more.

Then I'll make a post with the winning prompts and you can start writing!

And then we'll have Buck and Bobby week :)

Are there any rules?

AI is NOT allowed. Use of AI will end with your posts removed from the AO3 collection and being blocked on Tumblr. AI is theft.

This is to celebrate the father-son relationship between Buck and Bobby, NOT romantically. Romantic fics between them will not be included or reposted.

No abuse or SA taking place between Buck and Bobby. You can for other characters, but PLEASE tag accordingly! Use warning in both the warning section and the tags. I also recommend putting these warnings in an author's note and while posting on Tumblr. These are topics a lot of people want to avoid.

If a fic includes bashing of other characters, please tag accordingly as well. And, obviously, no Buck or Bobby bashing. (It would be preferable no bashing at all, but I'm not going to forbid or restrict you from writing it if you want to.)

No stealing, duh

I can't think of anything else, I try not to limit things. If you have a suggestion, let me know.

Do I have to sign up?

Nope. You can just post when it's time. Of course it's fun to let people know you're participating, but that's completely your own choice.

Can I be anonymous?

Sure! I do have to say a lot of people avoid anonymous fics because a lot of times they're very triggering or hateful to people. But if you don't feel comfortable using a username, it's a great way to still share your work. And I'm sure plenty of people still read anonymous fics.

Do I have to do all days?

Nope. While that is the most fun, if there's only one day you have time or inspiration for, that's amazing as well. You can skip days you don't want to do. It's completely up to you.

Is it limited to fics?

It's not! You can use any form of creativity. Think of:

Art

Playlist

Video edit

Picture edit

Moodboard

Podfic

Poetry

Anything else creative you can think of.

Is there a minimum or maximum word count?

Nope. No restrictions here either. This means you can also submit snippets. Or a full on novel with 100k+ words. Every number is allowed :)

How do I get it into the AO3 collection?

The collection isn't created yet and will be around a month before the event. Once it's created you can find the option 'post to collections / challenges' right underneath 'associations'. In this you search for the name, which I'll post on here once it's created. Once your fic is posted it'll be added to the collection.

I've never posted on AO3 before and don't know how.

I'm planning on making a quick tutorial soon, either on here or on @911buddieweek in which I'll explain the meanings of each parts, like ratings and warnings and the most used meanings behind them. Keep an eye out! If you want to know before I post, you can send me a message.

I have a different question

Don't be afraid to send an ask or message! I'll try to get back to you ASAP. I don't have tumblr notifications on, but I'm chronically online so I'll hopefully see it quickly. (I do like in Europe so if you're not European we might have a different timezone. But you can send it any time you want and I'll see it when I wake up.)

I hope this is enough info! And I'm very excited :)

[wings-of-ink]

Anon Ask response below! Very slight chapter 5 "spoiler" info too.

I thought I'd respond this way since I've rather liked being able to respond in chunks throughout the ask! ^_^

I saw the ask about bear related nicknames for Oswin, and I imagined my own MC (Winfred, I had mentioned him before) trying to call him any of that. But it doesn't work for him. Mostly because Winfred is taller and broader than Oswin, so if anything, Winfred resembles a bear more. A teddy bear, perhaps, given how sweet and kind he is, but a bear nonetheless.

I remember your Winfred! I love that, lol. So Oswin can be the honey to Winfred's bear?

Also, on a similar line of thought, I always think it's hilarious but very cute how protective the group is of my MC. Because, sure, Winfred is in a terrible unfair situation. But they don't know that at the beginning (except for Oswin), and my MC surely doesn't look weak nor frail. So it's funny to read how they all want to protect him so much. Yet, it's also so endearing. Winfred is such a sunny kind of character, I do imagine he is hard not to love.

That is adorable. They are all convinced that no matter how someone appears, they deserve a hand up when faced with troubles. Zahn is like an angry kitten putting on a brave face for Winfred, lol.

Speaking of love (I know I'm rambling at this point, sorry), I am heartbroken for Winfred. Because he used the chance to confess his feelings, and Oswin stopped him. And I don't know how Winfred would process that. Not entirely at least.

I've seen that theme in a few asks. I completely feel that, it's valid for MC's to feel heartbroken or rejected. It'll play out though and on the way home, Winfred will get to figure out how he feels about that.

For one, I know he won't force the topic again. He is understanding that Oswin needs time to tell him everything, so he'll understand he doesn't have to speak about love with Oswin just yet. However, I do imagine he could end up feeling resigned. In the sense he would interpret Oswin refusal not as Oswin feeling guilty about being loved by him, but rather as a declaration of an obvious fact: Oswin doesn't love him (which we know it isn't true, but Winfred doesn't know that). And since my Winfred's heart is wholly devoted, entirely and irrevocably owned by Oswin... It means Winfred probably would accept he'll never experience romantic love.

Awe, he's really going to go through it then. That is sweet, and it sounds to me like they sort of love in the same deep way.

Now, this is tragic and all, but I do imagine a funny scenario where Winfred —convinced Oswin doesn't, can't and will not ever love him— will try to find a partner that could make Oswin happy. Assuming Winfred survives, of course. Mostly because Winfred loves Oswin so much, that he prefers to see him happy with someone else than miserable. And maybe, if Oswin finds someone to love, then if Winfred died he would not feel as much pain, or at least would have someone to support him... I realize this stopped being funny to turn sad, guess I'm too fond of angst to stop myself.

LOL It's a sweet notion even if there is an underlying sadness to it! Oswin would be so torn up about that too.

In any case, I know you released chapter 5 recently. But I feel I need more and want to read chapter 6 as soon as possible. Especially so because the conclusion of chapter 5 shattered my expectations of how the story was going to go. I expected the journey to last until MC found a cure, not that they would return home. And that's not taking about the magic stuff that's going on. There is so much to learn about this world, and I'm hooked.

I miiiight have an outline going already.... :D I am really excited to write it too! I need to make some corrections to chapter 5 of course still, but I can't help but outline 6 to satisfy the "itch." The trip home is just to re-group though, so never fear, Winfred will be off to find answers again after a plan is made. I'm glad you love learning more about the world too, because there's some really fun info coming up! ^_^

Of course, don't pressure yourself. And remember to drink water too.

No worries! I'm making sure to take pretty good breaks before I really get into writing like normal. Winter is a very sleepy time for me and I know my limits. When I feel the spark, I poke around in my documents though. And I always have my water thermos at the ready!

Have a nice day!

You too my dear! Thank you for stopping by and sharing your thoughts! ^_^

[writeforfandoms]

Shatter Me 20

Find the series masterlist

Uh. Okay. So. I'm sure this is not what you're expecting, but trust me when I say it's going to be okay. I have A Plan.

Warnings: Emotional turmoil, little bit of abandonment, canon compliant, swearing, emotional overwhelm.

Word count: 2.4k

At Fett’s insistence, you joined him up top, settling into a seat with only a little hesitation. He wasn’t chatty, and he was harder to read than Din, at least to you. But his presence was… not quite restful. Almost soothing.

You were confident, if nothing else, Fett wouldn’t let any harm come to you. For Din’s sake, even if not for your own. That was fine. You didn’t care as much why. 

And Din definitely had more friends, more pull, than you did. Which was funny, considering how he came across at first. 

The blue and white of space outside lit the interior, casting odd lights on everything. 

It could have just been you and your sentimentality, but… it didn’t look as nice from here. From this ship. 

“Prepare to exit jumpspace,” Fett said over the comms, helmet briefly tipping your direction. You grimaced and held on tighter to the straps of your seat. 

“Copy that,” Bo Katan’s voice came over the comm. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.” 

“Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.” You didn’t have to see him to guess at his expression. He sounded darkly amused, something that niggled in the back of your brain. A learned response to that tone, a warning to hide. 

Not that you had anywhere to hide on this ship. Not that you needed to hide from him. 

“Watch out for those deck cannons,” Bo Katan shot back. Something in her tone made you think she didn’t like Fett very much. 

“Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.” Fett sounded quieter. Softer, almost. You couldn’t tell how much he was speaking to Bo Katan, or to Fennec and the others. (You guessed more to Fennec and Din, considering he already had a relationship with them.) 

The ship jolted a little as it dropped out of hyperspace, and you took a deep breath. Go time.

Not that you had to do anything but hold on.

Fett didn’t waste any time, firing on the other ship. If you hadn’t known the plan, you would have thought it was real. Fett swerved to follow the ship, and your stomach swooped with the motion. You couldn’t hear what was going on in the other ship, but you did see when the first TIE fighter deployed. 

“Kriff,” Fett grumbled, more to himself than you. 

You glanced at him, eyes wider than normal, and swallowed hard. The plan was not to get embroiled in a real firefight. 

Green flashes from behind made you clench your hands tighter around the straps. At least one TIE fighter had gotten behind you. Fett didn’t seem bothered, all his focus on the controls, even as he chased the other ship towards the Light Cruiser. 

He broke off at the last moment, swerving away. The ship juddered with an impact against the shields, made worse when Fett spun the ship around to shoot the TIE fighters still following. He evened out the ship and jumped back into hyperspace.

And now you waited.

“Alright there, little one?” His tone had gentled some as he addressed you. 

“Yeah,” you answered, only a little higher than normal. “I’m fine.” 

He hummed softly but didn’t disagree with you. “Mechanic, huh?” 

You blinked at him, surprised at the relative small talk. Then again, the two of you would be waiting for an unknown amount of time… Might as well. 

“Yeah. Started when I was a kid. My dad taught me everything he knew.”

He nodded slowly, hands relaxed on the controls. “My father taught me to be a warrior,” he mused. “And left me this armor.” 

“Is that why you’re helping Din?” The question left your mouth before you could think about the repercussions. 

He looked at you again, assessing if you had to guess. It was hard to guess with the blank visor staring you down. “He returned my armor to me,” Fett agreed. “And I swore to him that I would see the child safely returned to him.” 

You nodded slowly. It made sense, from what you’d come to know of Mandalorians through Din - they valued their armor above basically everything else. Although you had seen that Fett was willing to take his helmet off, more like the other Mandalorians you’d met what felt like ages ago. 

“I started traveling with him because my sister pushed me to,” you admitted, speaking slowly. It felt good to say, even if you didn’t think Fett really cared. “He terrified me, at first. But… I’m glad I stayed.” 

“Loyalty is worth more than any credits,” Fett agreed. “Especially when that loyalty goes both ways.” 

You looked at him, startled, ready to object on autopilot… But he was right. Din was loyal to you, in a lot of ways you hadn’t really looked at before. Your heart swelled, warming you through. 

Fett’s chuckle made you dip your head, embarrassed. 

“You may as well get comfortable,” he advised. “We may be waiting a while.” 

You took his advice. You didn’t leave, because you didn’t want to be taken by surprise when the call came in, but you did undo the straps on your chair. You relaxed. You listened to the ship, what you could anyway while it was semi-parked in open space. 

You still wanted to get a look at the innards of the ship. Maybe if there was time after Din and Grogu came back. 

After all, Din’s ship was gone, so the three of you would probably need to get a ride back to… somewhere. You weren’t sure where exactly. 

You’d figure it out later. Once Din and Grogu were back with you. 

Somehow, you still jumped when the comm crackled to life.

“All done here,” Fennec said from the other end. “Ready for pickup.”

“Copy that,” Fett replied, already inputting the coordinates again. “Anything I need to know about?” 

“Not until you get here.” Fennec didn’t sound foreboding, exactly, but… You wondered what that meant. She would have said something if someone was seriously hurt, right? 

You didn’t have long to spiral in your thoughts, though. Fett grunted acknowledgement and pushed the ship into hyperspace. 

It wasn’t long until the ship dropped out of hyperspace, revealing the Light Cruiser. It didn’t look any different from the outside. 

But you weren’t so concerned with that. 

Fett found a place to dock the ship. Fortunately, he didn’t try to stop you when you scrambled out of the ship as soon as you could. 

You needed to see Din and Grogu, see that they were okay.

Din met you in the hanger, looking a little ruffled but fine, helmet firmly in place. But his arms were empty. 

You couldn’t see Grogu.

“He went with a Jedi.” He spoke softly, not keeping you waiting. 

“What?” You froze, feeling as if you’d misunderstood somehow. Because Din had promised you that he and Grogu would come back. 

“A Jedi came,” Din repeated slowly, hands open at his sides. He didn’t move towards you. “I let him go. It’s what I’ve been working towards. For him to be with his own kind.” 

You breathed in, tears blurring your vision. You’d known that, you’d known Din wanted to find a Jedi to take Grogu, but… now? So soon? “I didn’t get to see him,” you whispered, heart aching. 

Din shifted forward and stopped himself, pulling back slowly. “I’m sorry,” was all he offered, visor fixed on you. 

You shook your head, too emotionally overwhelmed to answer him properly. One shaking hand lifted to wipe the wetness from your cheeks. 

“Is he okay?” you finally managed to ask, voice trembling. “Was he hurt?”

“He’s safe,” Din promised, finally taking a single step closer to you, both hands lifting like he wanted to take hold of you. But he didn’t. He held himself back that last little bit. “He is unharmed. And he will be safe with the Jedi.” 

You nodded, even as your shoulders hunched tighter. Which was ridiculous. This was what you’d wanted, right? For the kid to be safe, to be with his own people?

…Right?

Fennec slipped silently past you with no more than a glance and a quick touch to your shoulder. Your breath shuddered on the way in, and you tried to wrestle yourself back under control. You were making a fuss and you didn’t need to. Everyone was safe. No one was hurt. 

Even if Grogu was gone. 

“So what now?” You wiped your eyes again, refusing to meet Din’s gaze, even if you could. Instead you focused on his chest, checking the beskar for any new marks. 

“We see if Fett will take us somewhere,” Din said, hands falling back to his sides, hands opening and closing like he wanted to grab something. “From there, it will be easy to find passage to another planet.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to slow your breathing and calm yourself. It wasn’t easy. But you managed it after a few minutes of quiet. 

“Okay,” you croaked. “Okay.” 

Din stepped closer, slowly, like he expected you to reject him. When you didn’t, one hand took your elbow, helping to steady you and hold you close. 

“Ready?” he asked, low and quiet. 

You nodded, unwilling to trust your voice for now. Din helped you back onto the ship, staying next to you. 

“If you need transport, I am going back to Tattooine,” Fett said before either of you could ask. 

“That would be appreciated,” Din accepted with a nod. 

Fett inclined his head and climbed back up into the cockpit, Fennec following him up. 

Leaving you and Din in the hold together. 

The ramp closed, and Din ushered you to a seat, seeming concerned. You didn’t brush him off, needing the stability of him to regain your own internal balance. 

“Are you sure he’ll be okay?” you whispered, half-certain Din wouldn’t hear you as the engines whirred back to life. 

“He will be,” Din answered with more confidence than you could fathom right then. “We will see him again.” 

You breathed out slowly, soothed despite yourself with his confidence. Grogu would be okay, at the very least. If you were lucky, you'd see him again. Things would be okay. This wasn't the end. 

The trip back to Tatooine was largely quiet. You were already thinking of offering to look at Boba's ship, as a bit of repayment for the ride and his help. Only if he wanted you to, though. 

Din sat next to you the entire trip, one thigh pressed to yours, his pauldron hurting you a little where it dug into your shoulder. You didn't say anything about it - the pain was rather grounding, helping you to focus on the here and now, rather than spiraling out of control again. 

But the second time your head tipped sideways and thunked against the beskar, Din removed it, leaving his softer flight suit instead. 

You had to admit, his shoulder made a better pillow than his pauldron did. 

His arm shifted, giving you a little more room to settle in, and you melted against him with a tiny, contented sigh. 

No, things were not perfect. Or even good. But this? This was a lot. This was good. 

And in a life that hadn't had a lot of good things, especially recently, you clung to the good things. 

The ship shuddered as it entered atmo, and you blinked rapidly. When had you even dropped out of hyperspace? You didn't remember. Had you actually fallen asleep? 

Din seemed unruffled when you sat up, merely shifting his weight, helmet tipping towards you. 

“Sounds like we're almost there,” he rasped. 

“Yeah.” You straightened a little, glancing at him. “Where are we going next?” 

Din hesitated, holding very still. “I'll need to check in with the guild,” he said slowly. 

“Okay.” You could work with that. You'd already spent a good portion of your life not knowing exactly what came next. This wouldn't be so hard. Not with Din. 

The ship landed smoothly, and all of you exited. Boba had set down near the spaceport, within easy walking distance, but still away enough from what crowds Tatooine had to have some privacy. 

“You should be able to find passage from here,” he said, inclining his head towards the large transport vessels. “I will be remaining here, on Tatooine.” 

Din inclined his head. “Your help has been invaluable. Thank you.” 

Boba returned the nod and walked back onto his ship. Fennec lingered near the ramp, facing away from you and Din. 

And Din… Din looked at you. Hands open at his sides. He breathed in deep, straightening his shoulders. 

“Maybe you'd be happier staying here.”

The world fell out from under your feet. Your heart plummeted, chest constricting so tight you were surprised all your organs didn't simply give up. No. There was no way… Din wasn't… He wouldn't… 

“This life is dangerous,” Din continued. “You know that. It's hard on you. I've noticed. I don't even have a ship anymore.” 

All true, but. Why was he leaving you? Why now? You'd thought… you'd thought… 

“I want you to be safe.” Din reached out one hand, slowly, until his glove-encased hand closed around yours. “I have things I need to do. Things that are for Mandalorians.”

You shook your head slowly, too stunned and overwrought to form words, or even to cry. 

“I'll check on you, when I come back,” he promised, voice low and intent. He really thought he was doing what was best. “Be well. Stay with Peli.” 

He released your hand, which dropped limp to your side, cold and unfeeling. He stepped back, your feet rooted to the sand, heavy and thick. 

He turned and walked away. Your shoulders hunched. Your world shattered. 

You stared after him, unblinking, unmoving, even as grains of sand stung your face. 

“If you're looking for a job,” Fennec said from somewhere behind you, voice even and casual, “we could use a mechanic. There's a lot of work that needs to be done.” 

You breathed in, everything muted. You couldn't feel your extremities. Couldn't feel much of anything past the vice wrapped around the gaping loss in your chest. 

There was nothing else for you, now. 

“Let's go.”

[humanmorph]

fatt pin-up week 2: intimacy

a room & a bed

version from before i started messing with the bg & overlay colors (<- what a pain!!!). i like this one too.

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…

[quirkle2]

some stuff i didn't get to finish this year, mostly bc the motivation ran dry. even if i don't finish a piece i still have a blast makin the sketches

[violet-jessop]

two nights in a row gripping ice cubes like i'm 14 this is fucking pathetic

[endwersed]

guess who just spent 2 hours plotting out a new ending to striking out

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

was watching my mum responding to text after text getting frustrated because she wanted to make lunch but people wouldn't stop texting her

and i was like just. ignore them? just ignore the texts? i will ignore texts for hours until i feel like responding sometimes it's fine?

anyway my dad called me shallow for that one lmaoooo

[kyouka-supremacy]

(๑˃‌﹏˂‌)

[running-in-the-dark]

kinda disappointed with how this weekend went. I mean, it wasn't bad! but it was our first weekend in the new apartment, and I/we wanted to get a lot done. I already did a lot during the week (a lot for me, not a lot for most people I guess), but there's lots of things that I can't do/can't do on my own, either because I'm too short or not strong enough or I need someone else to hold something or whatever. which realistically just won't get done during the week because my husband works full time, so. it sort of sucks that only one very small, unimportant thing got done. 😔

[caterjunes]

we're gonna put our rats up for adoption at the animal rescue. things are. bad. we can't keep their cage clean. grayson gets exhausted taking them out to play and i rarely join bc i just feel empty or disgusted or i start sobbing or wind up in pain or exhausted myself. so they don't get the amount of human interaction they deserve/need.

i feel awful about it. i feel sick. i don't know the last time i've felt like such an abject failure. not just as a person responsible for small lives but as a partner. grayson gets such joy from these boys, and they are so sweet to us too. i just. i can't even take care of myself. it isn't fair. it's not fair.