#i have to tell someone because this is the closest to the holiday that i've ever discovered it

[sweetcardamom]

My parents are keeping to the (unintentional) tradition of buying me a present, hiding it, and forgetting about it - followed by me finding it because the hiding place is hilariously ineffective. I don't tell them I have found it until the end present-opening time. This is also part of the tradition.

[frannyzooey]

Warriors

Merry Christmas @papurgaatika !! I am your Secret Santa, and I had a blast writing this for you ❤️ We share a first love of Din and writing this made me realize just how much I've missed him! I hope this is everything you wished for and more -- and I hope you have an amazing holiday!! 🎄❄️🎄❄️

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

--

You first spotted him on the outer reaches of the galaxy. 

His beskar armor demanded to be seen, a surprising choice for someone who worked in the shadows. But while the first time you saw him was a flash at the edge of the market, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you. 

He’d been watching you for weeks. 

The bounty on your head was a high one: a disgruntled old boss with a lot of credits, and even more vindictiveness. You’d been skipping from planet to planet, earning anything you could from spare jobs, and stealing whenever you had to. You knew your luck had to run out one day, but you always thought you’d be able to talk your way out of it. 

It’s a misunderstanding, you’d say. Let me tell you my side of the story. 

Just your luck that the bounty hunter who finally caught you wouldn’t budge an inch. 

He was stoic, solid. Impenetrable, just like his armor. The very size of his body intimidated you, but it had nothing on what you felt when he stared. The helmet he constantly wore hid everything from you, and even though you couldn’t see his expression, you still tried to plead your case.

It was like arguing with a wall. 

You pressed, and he remained silent. You explained, and he stood eerily still. You begged, and he said nothing.

Eventually, he admitted that the begging did it. 

That, and the fact that he needed a babysitter – for a child just as stubborn as he was. 

Weeks spent watching the Child and waiting around for him had your nerves strung tight, and sleep pulled at your dry eyes. You knew he was just as tired, but he was being infuriatingly stubborn – as usual. 

“Just take the bed,” he urged. 

“You’ve been out there for over two weeks,” you argued back, gesturing outside the ship. “Not a chance. You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep in the cockpit.”

“Why, when you could stretch out?” you pushed back. 

His sighs were always these weighted things – thick with impatience, paired with hands on his hips and a tip of his helmet. The sound of it made you cringe when he did it to bounties, made you smile when he did it to the kid – but now, it made you frustrated. Annoyed. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing firm. He could be stubborn, but so could you. 

“The kid’s been down for ages, Mando. Take advantage of it.”

“And where will you sleep?” he pressed. 

“On the floor. Up in the cockpit. Wherever.” 

“On the floor?” He stared you down, and it took everything you had not to avert your eyes. 

“Hey,” you called him out. “Don’t try to intimidate me. It’s not going to work.”

He remained silent, and you huffed with annoyance. 

“Please,” you sighed. “I’m tired, you’re tired, the kids asleep. You need rest. Just take the bed.”

You turned to climb the ladder to the cockpit, and his voice stopped you. 

“Want to share it?”

–

Whatever sleep you thought you’d get, you were kidding yourself. 

The hulk of this man was a furnace next to you: the broad span of his shoulders blocking out the hull, the width of his chest shielding you, the bulk of his thighs pressed against your own. Insisting you take the side closest to the wall, you couldn’t even crawl out of the cot to go sleep somewhere else without waking him up – and that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Okay, maybe not the last. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to wake up because you couldn’t stop squirming. 

Paired with the heat of his body, the ache that gathered at the crux of your thighs made it impossible to sleep. It sprouted at his proximity, blossomed at the reminder of his strength, and grew with each of his deep, steady exhales. It pooled in the cradle of your pelvis, flooding through your hips and down. 

Gingerly, you rolled onto your side – but his hips lined up too much with your ass for you to ignore. You tried your other side, but the crook of his neck called to you. You tried your back, and that’s when he spoke. 

“Is something the matter?”

You startled, unaware that he’d been awake this whole time. That kriffing helmet. 

“Can’t sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, the sound going straight to your core. “Not enough space?”

It really wasn’t, but you found yourself not wanting to admit it. It was either this or the cold, uncomfortable cockpit and being curled up next to him was the better option. 

Even if you ended up going mad with want. 

“No,” you replied. “It’s fine.”

He nodded, going still. 

Your eyes ran up the length of his forearm, over the bulk of his bicep. You pictured his arm lifting to rest itself across the dip of your waist, and imagining the weight of it, you let out a shaky exhale. Closing your eyes, you leaned into the fantasy: his hand sliding underneath the band of your thermals, cupping you wholly between your legs. His fingers sliding inside of you with a stretch, your thighs parting to make room for his thick wrist. Slick pooled along your seam and dripped out, and you shifted again on the cot. 

This time, his hand stilled you. 

“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” 

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want…something else?” 

Your cheeks flooded with warmth, and you turned your head to look at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged, the shadowed round of his shoulder moving in the darkness. “You tell me.”

–

It didn’t take long after that to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. 

Every inch of skin that you dreamt about for months bared for your touch, you couldn’t stop exploring him – the fragrant crook of his neck, the smooth planes of muscle that covered his back, the trim sides of his torso and his soft belly dusted with hair. He seemed to revel in your touch, and you imagined that to be the case, with how often he was covered head to toe. 

His hips fit neatly within the cradle of your thighs, and when he filled you with a swift, precise push forward, a flutter erupted in your belly at the idea that he might fuck like he hunts – with competence and skill. Your back arched off his cot to take him deeper, and he groaned in your ear. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he praised, his knees shifting wider for purchase. His hips kissed the inside of your thighs with every roll forward, his weight spreading them wider underneath his strokes, and your hands splayed across his chest when he pushed himself up on his hands to stroke deeper, harder. Scars littered his chest, memories of his past permanently etched into his skin and something about it tugged at you – the idea that he always came out on top, but paid a price to get there.

Wanting to give him the rest you knew he deserved, you tugged him down on top of you and rolled your bodies until you straddled his lap – a sight that made him hum with appreciation. He tried to sit up to join you, but you pushed him back down. 

��I said you need rest, Mando,” you reminded him of your earlier words, your hips rolling in time with every upwards push of his. The filling heft of his cock had your mouth dropping open, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his eyes were fixed on it. “Let me – let me do the work.”

“Okay,” he eventually agreed, his thumb finding the bud of your clit. A few swipes of his touch had you keening, and he rested his other arm back behind his head, as if getting comfortable to watch the show. “I’ll watch while you make yourself come this time, sweet girl. But the next one?”

You moaned, your hips rocking faster against his – forwards into the swirling pressure of the pad of his thumb, and backwards onto the filling thickness of his cock. 

“The next one is mine.”

–

After that first night, he never let you sleep anywhere else. 

The cot much too small for two bodies, you made do by always being joined in one way or another: your limbs entwined, your body draped over his, his cock nestled inside you. Days and sometimes weeks without him at your side, he stripped bare every time he crawled in next to you, loathe to waste any moment without your skin touching his. 

Your face fit into the crook of his neck perfectly, his arm wrapped around your waist just right. For someone that spent so long by himself, it was clear that he was touch starved, but as you found out, so were you. 

Two lonely stars, colliding in a galaxy. 

You got used to his moods and he got used to yours. A routine came easy: you played the mechanic to his pilot, the babysitter to his parent, the vessel for him to pour his love into. And he did, every chance he could get. 

In the cockpit, poured into your mouth. 

In the hull of the ship, splashed along your back. 

In his cot, every single night, in every single way possible – smeared across your chest, pooled on your soft belly, flooded into the depths of your cunt. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened after that, but it was. 

–

Seated on the edge of the worn exam table, you swallowed hard against a cough that rose in your chest. It tickled the base of your throat, demanding relief and you tucked your face into the crook of your elbow and let out a wet cough, your lungs heavy and sore. 

You had caught it from a bounty, a filthy vagrant that Mando had hauled up the ramp earlier that month. Due to a few choice words that the bounty spit at you, Mando made sure to freeze him (none too kindly) right away, but not before the stranger coughed with force in the small space. 

Not one to see a doctor for his own ailments, you were surprised when he demanded you see one after a couple weeks of the lingering cold. Leaving him waiting in the lobby, you smiled at the immediate berth the other patients gave him when he sat down. 

You picked at your finger, suppressing the urge to cough again. 

The medical droid reassured you. “You’ll be fine. All life signs for you and the child are reading in good condition.”

“The child?” you asked. The kid wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t even here.

“Looks like it’s just a cough. The baby is fine – all vitals are measuring optimal.”

You froze, unable to reply. 

The baby. 

“The…baby?”

The droid laughed, modulated and carefree like their words didn’t just shatter your whole existence. “A couple months along, I’d say. Do you want to listen?”

Gently lifting your tunic, they pressed a monitor to the curve of your stomach and the pulsing heartbeat that met your ears brought instant tears to your eyes. 

“There, there,” the droid soothed, handing you a tissue. “Sounds healthy!”

You walked back to the ship in a daze, your surroundings a blur, your mind stuck on a loop of worry.

He never asked for this. 

This is no life to raise a child in. 

The ship – the ship barely fits the three of you, where the maker is a baby going to go?

The endless questions ate away at you for the rest of the evening, every worst case scenario coming true in your mind. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

On his side facing you, Din (a name he had long ago whispered to you in the darkness of his cot) ran his touch along your arm. He tucked you closer, rubbing your back. “You still feel sick?”

Your cheek rested against the firm heat of his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat – so like the one you heard earlier today. They sounded the same, and tucked safely next to his bulk, you murmured the words into his neck. 

“I’m going to have a baby.”

His visor tilted downwards just as his hand tipped your chin up. He looked down at you, and you wished desperately that you could see his face. Your lip trembled when he said nothing, and he cleared his throat. 

“I…wanted to wait,” he started, and your face crumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, cutting him off. Your voice wavered, and you looked away. “I –”

“Stop.” His commanding voice halted your sentence mid-speech. His hold slid from your chin to your cheek, cupping the soft curve. 

“I wanted to wait,” he repeated, softer this time. “Until we could find someone to do the ceremony.”

Your face scrunched in confusion, and he dragged the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, collecting a stray tear.

“We have a special ceremony we perform, when we bind ourselves to someone for life. It involves…taking our helmet off, so they can see us. So they can know us, better than anyone else.”

Your gaze transfixed on his visor, you held your breath as he reached for the edge of his helmet. 

“You already know me better than anyone else, so…”

He lifted the helmet up, and for the first time, you saw his face. 

He was beautiful – warm, rich brown eyes, ringed with thick lashes. A strong nose, a plush mouth. Stubble that scattered across his cheeks, a moustache that you never would have imagined. His curls were dark and mussed, and you envisioned a baby in your arms with the same color hair. 

The grin that broke across his face was almost as beautiful as the face itself – and every worry you had vanished at the sight of it. 

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, the sound of his real voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. 

"We are one when together, we are one when parted.” He recited the vows and his hand took yours, placing it on his chest. He let his own touch rest along the curve of your belly. “We will share all, we will raise warriors."

You sobbed, and he laughed – a new, treasured sound that made you cry even harder. 

“You have to repeat it,” he teased. 

Focused on his voice – his real voice, the feeling of hearing it for the first time overwhelming you – you took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes. 

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.” A hitch in your breath broke the vow, and he smiled, his fingers splaying across your skin. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

[creampie-capital]

║My Ex, The Oni║║━ Pt. 1 ━║

ᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ║21,113

The Devil May Lick Me Masterlist ━━━➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞

↳.·:*¨༺𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧༻¨*:·.

Photo Reference Cred ━━━➤ 82PIGEON on X (Twitter) Do not steal, copy, or repost anywhere. My work is currently on both CREAMPIE_CAPITAL on wattpad and Imtropicalbaby on Quotev. If posted on another account or website, please report and notify me immediately. Now onto the story :)

Steam wafts off your skin, a transparent whisp that floats from the intense heat emanating from your body. Soaked hair sticks to your limbs before you lean forward and wrap a towel around them to flip over. 

The ringing continues from your bedroom, blaring like scratches on the walls that spur you quickly exit from the bathroom. 'Don Juan,' his nickname since forever, flickers on the screen with the image of his stupid face. 

Fixing your robe, you answer and place it on the speaker. "Hello!!! I've been callin' for the past ten minutes." Rafe drags his voice out, stretching his vowels in the way he loves to when he's irritated. 

"I was in the shower, babe. You already know eight o'clock is shower time." You jeer and respond in the same manner. 

"Right, right." His response is calmer now as he releases a deep sigh. "Sorry, It's just busy at work, but I needed to know if you were busy tomorrow. My parents are visiting, and they want to see you. I know last time they were kind of rude, but that is just how they play around. My entire family is blunt like that, so I guess it's just in blood, haha." 

In an instant, you're biting your lip while your dominant hand curls into a fist. That a**hole, how many times do you have to tell him that you're not going to meet them again after last time? They blatantly insulted you and passed it off as jokes and gags in front of your face and his presence. 

You were surprised you were able to grin and bear it, taking their backhanded compliments and disrespect with awkward laughs and bows of your head. Not again; you're not going to take it again with Rafe sitting right by your side with silence on his tongue. 

"Rafe, come on. I've already told you I'm not going to see them again unless I get a genuine apology." 

"How can they give you a genuine apology if you won't see them again." 

He silences you in that moment as you stop mid-movement from grabbing your panties. "Touché, Don Juan." Rafe had a point. However, your body is engraved with pettiness. The hurt and humiliation they gave you had riddled your very bones with hatred. 

Forgiving them feels like losing the battle and accepting their disrespect. It's been one of your negatives since a young age, bearing rage and grudges even if they affected your closest relationships. Even your therapist struggles to help you settle those internal grievances. 

"I've talked with them, you know. It's hard for them to understand that their bluntness is not something everyone appreciates." You're both silent after his words; the only noise coming from the club is the muted music from the club he bartends at. 

Standing in the middle of your room, with only your panties and damp robe on, you find yourself fighting your resolve as water dries off your skin from the a/c. Now that the heat cools into a mellowness, even your anger somewhat subsides. 

Rafe then cuts the silence as he speaks. "It's only for coffee at Selena's. With the holiday coming up, they wanted to see you and me before they leave. And that means a lot, you know, the fact that they want to see you again." 

Ugh, you're starting to feel bad for constantly rejecting their invites. Only slightly bad, however, because you cannot forget those snide remarks that yeiled your blood to boil. Though...maybe they weren't that bad, but you took them the wrong way because as soon as someone offends you, you close off and refuse to listen anymore. 

However, that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. 

"Fine. I'll come but only for an hour. But if they act the same way they did last time, then I'm out. I'm not just going to sit there and take everything while you act like a coward. Got it?" 

"Got it." He murmurs while you hear the sound of his clothes shifting. "And again, I'm sorry about how I acted last time. It was cowardly, and I didn't consider your feelings." 

With a nod of your head, you part your lips to respond; however, a ring from the foyer of your apartment solidifies you in your spot. Immediately, you're on the defense, body tense and eyes narrowed. 

"Hold up, someone's at my door." You whisper before grabbing your phone, muting it, and stalking close to your door. The emergency services are already dialed, only awaiting the call button in case something goes wrong. 

Pressing a button on your apartment intercom, the blank screen flashes to show the video imaging outside your door, and you cannot believe who stands in front of your entrance with a smug a** grin. 

"Oh, my f*cking god." You seethe with the blood inside of your heating up before unmuting your call. "It's nobody important. I call you back; love you, babe." 

"'kay. Be safe, and I love you too. I finish at two, so if you're still up, I call you later." 

Ending the call, you undo the towel in your hair to throw it aside and unlock your door. With a harsh tug, you open it with a deep glare. "What the hell are you doing here, and how the hell do you know where I live?"

Kohaku stands there with that stupid a** grin and glint in his heterochromia eyes. "Come on, can't a guy just say hi?" 

He looks the same as he did in high school, only more muscular as his clothes stretched across his limbs. His hair is still that ink-black slop with the strip of white strands, only longer and slightly styled. 

The little horns on his forehead remain as cute as ever, as much as you hate to admit it. Piercings riddle his pointed ears, and you wonder how he got them done when he's always been a little b*tch about the sensitivity of his earlobe. 

"Not even on my grave would I let you even say hi. What the f*ck do want?" You sneer, though it does nothing to wipe off his grin. 

With a snap of his fingers, he points them at you like finger guns. "First off, you look cute in that robe, but it's a little too short. Not that I mind~." Your face heats up with the boiling of your blood. "Second of all," He suddenly twists around and picks up a...a little girl!? "-I need you to watch this sprat for a couple of months."

He hands her to you, holding her up from under her armpits like he's attempting to hand over a stray pet. The kid doesn't even seem phased, staring with a bored(?) expression as though nothing is going on in her head. 

She's small, maybe five or six, wearing an oversized pink sweater and knee-high black socks with beat-up sneakers. Her eyes, her eyes hold two different colors, one icy blue and the other lime green. She had her own pair of horns that matched her tan skin with the tips slightly peachy red. Even her hair was the same ink black with the one area in the front white from his genetic disorder. It was long, down to her ankles, and unruly. Tangles are everywhere, and the frizz overtakes her head like lions made. 

"Excuse me...? Ex-f*cking-scuse me!?" The roar of your voice was louder than you meant, and you knew in an instant that your neighbors were going to complain. "F*ck, f*ck." You whisper to yourself while opening the door wider and pointing inside. "Get in, quick." 

That grin grew as he waltzed in and immediately began inspecting your place. 

Shutting the door and locking it, you turn back with your arms crossed and a wicked glare. "You got some explaining to do because what in your right mind thinks you can just waltz up in here after everything you did and think I would do you favor? Much less-" You point to the kid he's still carrying. "The favor being taking care of a brat from when you cheated on me?" 

Finally, Kohaku's smile drops as he frowns awkwardly. "Well...when you put it like that, it makes me look like a really bad guy." 

"You are the bad guy." It seems your words nicked a nerve as his blue and green eyes flickered to your face, and his frown withered. 

The Oni set the girl down on your laminated wooden floors before swiping a hand across his mouth and looking away. "It wasn't like that. You know I would never cheat on you. I just-" 

You cannot even handle hearing anymore. The sound of his voice that you used to love trying to justify the way he broke your heart is something you can't bear. "You just what? You got some f*cken freedom in college and went off to do your own thing? Got to finally get away from my 'overbearingness' and 'clinginess' so you could f*ck around with, how did you put it, 'woman that wasn't like me'?" 

Kohaku inhaled a deep breath and finally met your gaze as he placed an open hand on his broad chest. "I was childish and selfish. People were treating me like someone important, and I let it go to my head. I said things I didn't mean-" 

Tears are burning in your eyes, burning like poison, as you step forward to grab the front of his shirt and tug. "You called me in the middle of the night while you were at a party just to tell me things were over! You had been neglecting me for weeks, and when you finally called, when I could finally hear your voice again, it was just to break up so you could f*ck some skank without a guilty conscious!"

He suddenly grips your wrist, the heat of his touch almost shocking you like electricity as he tears off your hold. "The way I broke up with you was f*cked up, I admit it. I apologize for that. But at least I had the f*cken decently to break up instead of cheating on you, instead of hiding it behind your back. I loved you enough to not do that sh*t to you." 

"...What!?" You laugh in disbelief while yanking your arm out of his grasp. "Loved me enough!? If you had even loved me, you wouldn't have been ignoring me when you entered college! You wouldn't have stopped answering my calls! For f*cks sake, if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have broken up with me for some one-night stand when I was your girlfriend you promised to marry!" 

Banging erupts from your living room wall, most likely from your neighbor to tell you to shut the f*ck up. It was already late, people were trying to sleep, and you were having a breakdown. Now that you could hear the silence of the apartment and feel the blood pumping in your veins, you then also realized tears were snaking down your cheeks. 

"Damn." You whisper and turn your head away to march towards the kitchen. "I can't deal with you sober." It didn't take long for you to pour yourself a shot and downing it before grabbing a beer can and gulping half so the effects could hit you sooner. 

From the entranceway, Kohaku says something to the girl before making his way over. You don't even look at him, leaning against the counter as the can hangs loosely between your fingers. So many years have passed since then, yet the wound of it all remains unhealed. He was your first love, someone you gave yourself to wholeheartedly. 

You loved him with everything you had and believed that you both would go to the same college together, then marry later on, have a family, and grow old together. Truthfully, you should have known better; you romanticized that relationship. You both were just kids from a small town, not realizing how big the world was. 

Well, you didn't. Because he was a grade above you, he went off to university first, and that's when he got a taste of what the real world was like. That's when he experienced so many things that a small town just can't provide. 

He had his eyes opened while you remained blissfully ignorant. 

Now that time has passed, you have experienced those feelings firsthand. The world was so different; there was so much going on that you would have never encountered if you stayed in that town. You get it; you get that you were just holding him back. 

But that doesn't stop the hurt from becoming any less painful. It's been how many years, yet the feeling of betrayal still feels so fresh it's almost pathetic.

Were you the one who was more in love than he was? Is that why you're still hurt after all these years, even though you've already moved on? 

"I'm sorry."

His voice right now is no longer pissing you off; it's just making you feel even more pathetic. You don't know if you ever quell the hatred from how he broke up with you, and that's sad. He did the adult thing and ended it instead of just lying behind your back. 

How he went about it was wrong, but he did the right thing and left the relationship. You should be over it by now, but with his reappearance, those feelings have returned.

"...Don't... You're not sorry. You're just tryna make me feel better, and it's only make me feel worse." You murmur while covering your mouth and burping slightly from the carbonation. "So... who is the kid? Gotta be your daughter 'cause she's got that same stupid a** white streak." 

Kohaku laughs in his throat before leaning against the wall on his side and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "You used to love it." He teases, and you can tell he really is trying to lighten the mood, but you don't want any of that. "Well, today is actually the first time I've met her." 

"Oh." You release like a breath of air before turning your head to face him. "Do tell." 

He rubs the back of his neck with the leather of his jacket, squeaking from his movements. "That girl from college, we actually started dating after we...you know." 

Something stings in your heart, but it drifts away in slow rolls as you breathe it out. "Wow. I guess it wasn't just some one-night stand, then. Don't know if it makes me feel better or worse, though."  

He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. "Well, a couple of years later, she cheated on me, so we broke up. After that, I transferred to a different university and never saw her again or remained in contact with her. That was until this morning, she just showed up with the girl and some papers and declared I had full custody. She told me that the girl would be my full responsibility and I could do whatever I wanted without getting my ex involved. Then she just left." 

You laugh under your breath. "Drops the responsibility on to you, huh, and now you're doing the same to me. And that girl isn't even mine." Whether you meant to or not, the last part poured from your lips with petty abhorrence. 

It was your dream to have a child, to share a child with him that was from the both of you. Someone else got to have that dream, yet they threw it away so carelessly. 

Kohaku stands to his full stature and steps forward. His height grows, and you remember the enormous height difference that you used to love. Somehow, he feels even taller than you remember. 

"I'm sorry." He exclaims and places an open hand on your back. Was his hands always this big? It feels like he could cover so much space. "I'm really sorry for doing that. I'm not in the position to take care of her, nor is it safe for a kid to be around me. There's no one else I could think of but you to ask for this favor." 

You lick your lips and stare into those multi-colored eyes. "Safe? And you couldn't ask anyone else's in your life? No other friends or girlfriends? Not even your dad?"

He removes his hand to place it against his chest as though he were wounded. "First of all, aren't you honored that you're the only one I can think of after all these years?" 

You give him a deadpan expression while pointing a finger at him. "No." 

"You're literally no fun." He whines. "And for your information, Dad would make things more complicated than they would need to be. I don't need that right now when I've got to figure things out." 

A laugh ripples from your mouth and echoes out. "Ahh, your dad would grab you by the horn and go and on about family values 'till your ear would fall off. Then he'd put that girl to work on the farms. That old fart wouldn't miss any opportunity for free labor." 

Even speaking of it brings forth memories of helping around the farm because you were too nice to say no. He always managed to keep you around for hours until your mother would come to get you. You'd be all dirty, sweaty, and (tanned/burned) from being under the sun for so long. 

You hated those times, but they are memories you will never forget. They were part of your childhood and adolescence, and they did give you some muscle that helped you do well in sports.

Sighing, you lean forward to rest your arms on the counter and your cheek on your wrist as the dizziness comes forth. "How is your old man?" 

"Same old, same old." He responds and maneuvers so he's resting his behind against the counter and elbows on it to hold up his weight. "He'll honestly outlive us from his sheer stubbornness." 

That statement couldn't be any more true. If you were the queen of pettiness, then his father was the king of stubbornness. Whatever his dad decided on, he would stick with it to the end, even if he were in the complete wrong. 

As much as you love the big world and the big city, there is that nostalgic feeling of sitting on his father's porch in that big squeaky rocking chair and drinking a fresh glass of lemonade. It would be nice to do that again and stare out onto the massive field of his farmland, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. 

The same four country songs always seemed to play from his beat-up radio, yet he refused to let anyone change the station. You used to hate that and dread even the sound of a guitar. Now, you find yourself missing it. 

"I miss your batty old dad." You state, mumbling under your breath and blinking heavily. 

Kohaku laughs and nods his head with a slight grin. "As much as that old man gets on my nerves, I miss him too." 

Nothing more is stated; instead, sharing a deep silence that would have been awkward to others but was comforting to both of you. 

Surprisingly, you were looking at the past and yearning for the simpler times. Doing so usually would just leave you aggravated, but tonight, it was pacifying. Life is always so busy, and you like that it never leaves you a moment to dwell on the past and what could have been. 

Maybe you just needed to get those feelings off your chest. After the breakup, you were never in contact with him again. The anger from the heartbreak had you crumble up all those feelings and throw them down in a void. 

They were a weakness, something you refused to give in to. But the anger remained, and questions you always wanted to ask were stuck in the back of your head. They didn't push forward, they didn't take precedent, they were just there, waiting. 

Sniffling, you stand up and step over to the sink to dump the rest of your beer. "What is her name?" 

"Simat? If I could name her, it would have been something cooler." 

You angle your head back to sneer at him. "Don't kid yourself. You would have named her something ridiculous like your Gamertag. I don't even want to hear it." If there is one thing he should never get his hands on, it's naming. 

Abpruplty, your phone rings, and you see Rafe on the screen. You didn't realize how close it was to one o'clock. 

"Ouu, your boyfriend." Kohaku teases as he snatches your phone to look at the picture. "Hmm, he's decent looking and has good nose genetics. However, you could do better. And what's with that name? Don Juan is so ridiculous. And you're the one saying I suck at coming up with names." He utters with a finger on his chin as though he were profoundly contemplating. 

"A**hole." You exclaim and snatch back your cellular device, only for the call to end. "It's a joke nickname from our friend group. And as an ex-boyfriend, you have no right to judge my boyfriend."

The Oni falls back comically while holding a hand against his chest, tugging at it as though he were having a heart attack. "You wound me, (Y/n). As an ex-boyfriend, I have every right. I have to make sure the men you get with aren't better looking than me!" 

His response yields another deep sigh, and you shift your weight onto one leg and cross your arms beneath your bust. "Get the f*ck out of my apartment." 

"What about-" 

"I will do you this favor one time, but after, don't ever come back asking for anything. Don't ever come back, period. You're from my past; you don't belong in my future." With that said, you stride past the muscular man and back to the living room, where the little girl sits playing with a big Orc doll. 

Kohaku follows you around your couch and kneels in front of the girl. He places his big hands on her knees and gains her attention. "I have to go now. I'm sorry for leaving your side, but it's not safe at my place. I'll be coming around every few days to see you, okay?"

Simat doesn't speak, but she nods her head before resuming her attention on her big green doll. The older Oni appears to be observing her appearance for a few seconds before standing up and placing a hand on her head to ruffle her already disorderly hair. 

With one last look, he begins making his way to your front door, with you following behind. "Should I give you my email so you can notify me when you're coming to see her or-" 

"No, I've already got your number," Kohaku states before winking and exiting the front door. "By the way, you need a new robe. I can see your a**cheeks, not that I mind~!"

"Kohaku, you pervert! Wait, how!? I changed my number after high school!" You question in the hallway, but he refrains from responding, only waving his hand until he disappears around the corner. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the door and lock it. Now, it's just the two of you alone in your apartment. It's awkward, and you cannot help the painful feelings. Resentment fills your veins, a nasty bitterness that corrodes your insides. 

You have to remind yourself that this child is an innocent bystander, someone who had no say in what had transpired. It was not her fault she was born, much less from your ex-boyfriend. It's just the way things were. 

Finally, you were able to shake yourself up enough to go to your room, grab some undersized clothes that she could fit into, and return. 

"Simat?" She slowly looks up from her doll and stares with her heterochromia eyes. From the moment you met her, that dead expression has remained, not once going away. She's not crying for Mommy or Daddy; she's not afraid of some stranger standing in front of her. 

It's eerie, almost scary, and it slowly eats away the corroding of resentment. "Do you want to shower or sleep?" You ask her softly, yet she only stares at you with those lifeless eyes. If it were not for the slight movement of her chest from breathing, you would have thought she was some broken, dirty doll thrown out. 

"Okay, umm. Take these clothes and change in the bathroom. I'll make the bed for you." Without wasting time, she stands up to take the clothes and make her way down the hall to the bathroom. You didn't tell her where it was, but she must have been looking around while you and Kohaku were talking. 

She looks pitiful; you cannot help but feel bad for her. 

With her changing, you push forward the coffee table to pull out the bed. It was an expensive couch you bought a while ago for when your girlfriends were too drunk to go home. With their picky choices, you were able to find this one that they actually liked, so it should be good enough for the girl. 

It already has clean sheets, so you go to the closet to grab the piles of pillows and blankets you have before making the bed. Simat returns soon after in your PJs before placing her sweater, socks, and shoes in her little pink bag. 

"Do you want to watch something or..." Simat only stares at you as she stands in her spot. With a slight narrowing of your eyes, you point your hand that had the remote at the bed. "Go lay down." Instantly, the girl listens, grasping the blanket to help haul herself on top. "Simat, get off for a second." Without a complaint, she does so, sliding off and standing right next to it with no change in her expression. 

The pity you felt had intensified, and you suddenly regretted the way you had spoken to her earlier. She seems very closed off for a young girl when she should be expressing herself at this age. Even more, she's incredibly obedient, following orders without a word or complaint. 

"Come sit here for a second. I want to talk to you." The girl listens, climbing back up before crossing her legs and holding the doll against her chest. 

Slowly, you sit on the edge and lick your lips while trying to figure out the right words to say. "I'm sorry for all the yelling you heard earlier. I was just really upset, but that is no excuse. My name is (Y/n). I was your daddy's friend from a long time ago." No words, just a blank stare. "Uh, you'll be staying with me for a while, but your father will be here every few days. I don't have a daughter, so I'm not sure how to take care of you, but if there are things that you don't like, then don't be afraid to tell me. I don't know how things were at your mom's, but here you have every option you want, whether it's if you want to watch TV or not. Okay?" 

No response; her nose barely even flares as she breathes. "To make things easier, nod your head for okay or yes. Shake for no. Okay?" For a second, she seems to hesitate before finally she moves her head up and down a little. 

It feels like a small victory, and you cannot help but smile. "I'm not good at this stuff, but let's learn together, okay?" Again, it takes her a few seconds as though she is thinking about it, but she nods. "Alright. I'm going to put a kid's movie on, but if you don't like it, then here is the remote. You can stay up however long you want for now. In the morning, we'll have breakfast, and then we'll go from there."

Slowly, she nods her head, which spurs you to softly pat her head before standing up and pulling the covers over her lap. "Goodnight, Simat. I'll see you in the morning." The girl doesn't say anything, only sinking into the pillows and staring at the large TV screen.  

Without making much noise, you go to your own bed only to pass out once your head hits the pillow. You hadn't even changed out of your robe, and you're too tired from the emotional rollercoaster no one but your ex can make you ride. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

In the morning, you are woken up by the ringing of your phone. Your eyes are still closed, and your mind is half awake as you answer. "Hmm." 

"'Morning, babe. I'm almost done getting ready. Then I'm going to come get you to go to Selena's." Rafe's voice comes out from the device, and you hum in response. 

However, after a few seconds, your head shoots up as your eyes widen. Sh*t, how are you going to explain to him that you're babysitting your ex-boyfriend's kid after no contact for like six years? Rafe is already super jealous and not trusting of any males in your life. His parents would be even worse if you showed up out of the blue with some kid who wasn't their son's offspring. 

Dammit 

"Sh*t babe, I forgot I've already made plans with my sister." You lie straight through your teeth as you sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your sister isn't even in the same country, busy on her own holiday voyage that he hopefully doesn't know about.

"What?" Rafe questions and scoffs. "Come on, can't you just take a raincheck? You keep skipping out every time they want to see you, and I already told them you were coming last night. You know how it's going to look when you cancel again." 

It does look bad that you are ignoring them, but so what? They were so incredibly rude last time, and seeing them would ruin your day, even if they want to apologize. "It's not my fault they found it so funny to call me slurs and laugh about it in front of my face. I can take a slur as a joke, but they weren't joking. I'll see them when I want to see them. I'm getting ready; I'll call you later." Rafe begins saying something, but you do not even let him get his words out, quickly hanging up and collapsing onto your back. 

Staring up at your ceiling, you take deep breaths to calm your vexation before slowly sitting up. Your back and neck hurt from falling asleep in that awkward position without moving. You must have been exhausted to sleep like the dead.

After taking a moment to center yourself entirely, you get up and open the door to step down the hallway and into the living room quietly. The TV is still on, playing the Lorax halfway through as you peek over the couch. 

Simat was awake, hugging her Orc doll while watching the movie. "Good morning, Simat. Did you sleep?" She looks over before slowly nodding her head. "Are you hungry?" Another nod. "Okay, come. Go sit at the counter over there and wait while I make something." 

She does need to be told twice, obediently following orders as she crawls out of bed and shuffles to the bar stools. You had to hold back your laughter as you watched her struggle to get up, climbing like a little monkey. 

"Alright, let's see..." you murmur while opening the fridge. You look through its contents before removing some strawberries, butter, and milk and setting them on the counter. "I'm going to make pancakes. Are you okay with that?" Another nod. 

Silently, you begin pulling out all the other ingredients you need before setting up the skillet. Simats eyes are watching you the whole time, and you wonder if she's just curious or if she watches your every move out of fear to watch for danger. 

Her silence and obedience already strike you as odd, but it might not be far from a stretch to assume she was abused or, more so, neglected. There is not much you can do as an outsider; she's not even your daughter. But for now, you can just try to give her options and help her understand that it's safe in this place even though you are a stranger. 

"When I was a kid, my mom used to make pancakes that looked just like characters from my favorite anime. Have you heard of Sailor Moon?" When you turn, you see that she shakes her head no. "Really? We should watch it some time then. It's an older series, so the graphics are not that great, but I prefer it still over the remake. Just something about the new one; I just don't like it." 

With the batter mixed, you begin pouring small pools onto a hot skillet. "You know, when I don't like things, I won't do them. If I don't like it, if it hurts me or would make me unhappy, I don't do it." Flipping a pancake, you reach up in the cupboard to grab a plate. "I want you to understand that you are safe here to express yourself. You won't get hurt or yelled at if you say no. I will respect you enough to listen to your feelings, but I need you to respect me enough to listen too, okay?" 

You don't turn your head to look at her, but you can feel her nod. You're unsure if she is truly listening to you or taking your words seriously. Hopefully, she'll keep your words in mind while she stays here. 

After the food was done, you cut up some strawberries and lathered the pancakes in butter before presenting them to the girl and giving her two different bottles of syrup, one with a rich taste and another with a more robust flavor. 

She didn't eat or even lift her fork, only continuing to watch you as you made your way around the bar and took a seat next to her. Her eyes observed as you grabbed the first bottle, poured it over your food, and began cutting it up. Once you had put the bottle down, she grabbed the one you had and poured it over her plate almost the same way you did (dousing it/light covering it). 

Only when you started eating did she tear off a small piece and eat. It was both cute, as though she were mimicking you, but sad as you wondered if she wanted to make sure it was safe to eat or if she even had the right to eat. 

Silently, you both ate together until you finished and stood up to begin washing the dishes. Simat was still eating, but when you turned to check up on her, you noticed she was eating slowly and took smaller bites than before. 

"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat more than what you can handle. I won't yell or hurt you if you are done. And you're not wasting food; you just can't eat anymore." It seemed your words were exactly what she needed to hear as she dropped her fork and leaned back, seeming to pat her belly softly. 

It was too cute, like an arrow to the heart. "Good girl," you told her, then took her plate, emptied the rest away, and finished the clean-up. 

After a few minutes of cleaning, you heard the chair scrape, and Simat came over to the kitchen. She stood right by your side, with her eyes never straying from your figure. Is food the way into this little girl's heart? 

"Woo, I hate washing dishes." You joke with a little laugh before turning to the kid. That unruly hair needs to be taken care of, and she's even got some syrup on her chin that's shining in the light. "Alright, let's bathe you. Come follow me." 

Obediently, she follows you down the hall to the bathroom, where you turn the shower handle, and water bursts into the clean, porcelain basin. "Do you want hot water and bubbles?" she nods. "Good; I love bubbles, too." 

As the tub fills with an obscene amount of bubbles, you begin to help her undress. Other than her matching markings beneath the eyes she obtained from her father, there don't appear to be any scars or markings. 

It was a sigh of relief; you don't think you could hold in your anger if there were physical signs of abuse. She's not you're kid, she's not your daughter, but hurting any child in a manner was unacceptable. A slap here and there if a kid really needs discipline, but anything more would earn your fist in the parent's face. Every kid deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a kid. 

When Simat enters the tub, her attention is immediately stolen by the piles of bubbles, and she begins to play with them. She places them on her chin and cheeks, almost mimicking a beard that brings forth a laugh. 

For a second, she glances at you before returning it to the tub and adding more to her fake beard, the shape taking the form of a long wizard beard. "You make a good wizard. Should I buy you a cape and a wand?" Your joke, which you said more to yourself, had earned the child's gaze. Finally, those dead eyes hold a twinkle, a soft sparkle deep inside her colored irises. 

In an instant, you make a mental note to buy a wand and a cape immediately after this. 

While she continued to play, you washed her lengthy hair, which was way thicker than you expected. You thought you used a lot of conditioner, but this girl gave you a run for your money. You're going to have to buy more while she stays here, in fact, you need to buy lots of things. 

Not that you mind, shopping is fun, and even more fun when you have that Christmas bonus your boss gave everyone for the holidays. 

Once the water begins to turn lukewarm and the bubbles cease, you help her out and give her one of your robes. It was too oversized for her, but she looked cute in it. The two of you enter your bedroom, where you lift and sit her at the edge of your bed while you go scouring through your clothes for something around her size. 

There isn't any underwear that would fit, so you put down a pair of black biker shorts that shrunk in the wash. Even most of your shirts, other than your office clothes, are inappropriate for her age, so for now, you give her one of your crop top sweaters that is just long enough to reach her hips. 

"Alright, you can change into these and then meet me in the bathroom so we can take care of your hair." She nods and reaches for the clothes while you exit and shut the door for privacy. While she does that, you'll brush your teeth and do your own hair since it dried awkwardly last night. 

It's still unbelievable what is happening. After six years, your first love shows up on your doorstep to drop off a daughter he didn't even know he had; what a joke. It feels like a joke, a cruel joke being played. 

When you were just a teen, you used to dream about your future and imagine all these different scenarios of what your life would be like together. You'd probably have a couple of kids, all taking after their father, considering that Oni's blood was seriously dominant. 

Simat really does look like her father other than her tan skin, which made her eyes really pop. There's a knock at the door, and you tell her to come in just as you finish (throwing your hair up/pinning it back). 

She looks charming in your clothes, almost looking like you, frankly. Waving her over, she takes a step in front of you by the sink as you reach for a brush. "It doesn't seem like anyone took care of your beautiful hair, so I'm going to brush it and then cut a little. Is that okay?" Another nod so you diligently get to work. 

Her tangles had mostly calmed down after you soaked it in detangler, so you didn't have to struggle much. However, the ends were really poor, with a considerable amount of split ends, so you had to cut off quite a few inches. Those precious locks that reached her ankles were now just a little past her bum, but now that you see curls coming in, you realize she had curly hair. 

No one seemed to take care of it, so there's no way those curls would have flourished. Luckily, you had some curl cream that would do wonders for the shape. 

"I'm going to use the blow dryer, so be prepared for the loud noise, okay?" Simat nodded as she raised her hands to cover her face, which was too cute. For now, you put it on medium and scrunched her hair while drying it from below. 

"When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist so bad. I thought I was so skilled when I gave all my dolls haircuts. Looking back at it now, I was actually pretty terrible, but my dad told me I was good enough to be a professional." You look at Simat in the mirror and see her daddy in every aspect. "Dads love their little girls very much. Sometimes, they're a little too overbearing, dictating everything we can and cannot do. I used to hate my dad, who always embarrassed me in front of my friends and never let me stay out late. But I look back on it and think how grateful I am that my father took my hate silently so that I could be protected." 

You don't know what Kohaku has been doing these past years or what he's up to, but the one thing you know is that he would be a good father. After all, he brought Simat here to put her safety above all else, even if it made it look like he was abandoning her. 

"Alright, you're all done! Look at these curls! You don't even know how much money girls spend just to get something similar." Simat lowers her hands to look in the mirror, and it is another arrow to the heart as she curiously raises her hair to play with the bounce. "Okay, go to the living room and finish your movie while I change."

You didn't even ask her a question, but she nodded her head and went down the hall. Slowly, she seems to be opening up, and hopefully, you can get her to be as comfortable as possible. 

After cleaning up and putting everything away, you change into jeans and a turtleneck before grabbing a jacket and making your way over to the kitchen, where you left your phone. There are a couple of missed calls from Rafe and a few missed texts from his parents, but you don't even want to see them, so you just swipe them away. 

To your surprise, there was a text from an unknown number.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Arise sunshine, I hope u got ur beauty sleep in. I'll be busy today and tomorrow, so I won't be able to talk much throughout the day, but before she goes to bed, try to give me a call. I'd like to speak to her. 

Also, thanks again for taking care of her during my absence. I know it took u a lot to put aside everything and accept it, and I really appreciate that. No one is as reliable as u r. 💖 😘

◢

What a kissa**, trying to butter you to lessen your anger. Unfortunately, It's working. With a sigh, you lean against the wall and respond.

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Yeah, yeah.

So far, Simat's doing really well. She's still pretty nonverbal, but I have her nodding yes and shaking her head for no. It seems like your ex really neglected her, but I'm trying to get her to open up at her own pace. 

I'm going to take her shopping. I need to get her clothes that fit and some other necessities that the kid needs.

◢

To your surprise, right when you are about to put your cellular device away, it vibrates to show a reply from your ex. 

◤

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Ur so responsible I'm envious😙😙

If there is one thing I miss, it's being coddled by u. It was nice to lay in bed and have u bring evryt to me.😪😵‍💫 

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

Why do you still text like a teenage girl?

The amount of emojis you use makes me sick. Please get them off my screen before I block you and take your kid away.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

There is nothing against a grown man using abbreviations.

Stop being prejudiced (Y/n)😠🥶. U really need to fix that stereotyping.

+get Simat wtv she needs and get urself a little smth on the side. 

Ps. If u still like cherry panties and end up buying sum, pls send pics.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

First of all, I'm an independent woman, and I make good money, so I can buy whatever Simat and I want. 

SECOND OF ALL YOU LITTLE PERVERT

I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP!

DO NOT ASK FOR PANTY SHOTS UNLESS YOU'D LIKE MY BOYFRIEND TO HEAR ABOUT IT.

+XXX - XXX - YYYY

I can fight.

◢

He is literally so damn obnoxious you cannot stand him. You're just going to leave him on read, but you will take your money, not because you need it. Who would give up free money? 

Shutting off your phone, you place it in your back pocket, grab your purse and keys from the nightstand, and then call out to the girl. "Come, Simat. We're going to go to the store and get you the things that you need." 

The kid turned to face you before glancing down at her doll and then back at you. "Yes, you can bring your doll. Just don't drop it, okay." she nods quickly before hopping off the bed and running up to you. 

With everything ready, you exit your front door and lock it with your keypad and fingerprint. Once that's done, the two of you make your way to the elevator, which requires a key card to operate, and begin your descent to the parking lot. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Simat didn't mind your music while on the ride; she seemed infatuated with the city, watching everything that could be seen. As she sits in the back seat, you give yourself a mental note to buy a booster seat as well. 

Due to the morning traffic, it took a little while to get to the mall, but you both made it safely and parked close to the entrance. With there being many people on a Saturday morning, you crouch down and meet the girl's gaze. 

"Do you want to hold my hand so you don't get lost in the crowd?" It didn't take much convincing for her to nod her head and stick out her left hand. With a smile, you grabbed it gently but held it firmly as the two of you entered. 

With the holiday coming up, it was a bit hectic with all the people there, though the discounts and sales were a nice bonus. First, you wanted to get everything Simat needed before you even looked at your favorite stores. 

Once you enter the mall and start looking at the things you like, you lose all sense of time and are there for hours. 

The little Oni held your hand in her own as she obediently followed you and stayed by your side. While you shopped and picked up clothes that looked in her size, she surveyed everything she could. She watched people like they were in a movie, almost like something she didn't see very often. 

After filling up your basket, it came to your favorite part: the try-on! Of course, you don't mean to take advantage of how obedient she is, but it is crucial that her clothes fit and look good. 

Sitting by the bench by the mirrors and dressing rooms, you giddily awaited every outfit. And you were not disappointed! Every fit looked perfect with her adorable face, cute baby horns, and gorgeous curly hair. Honestly, if you hadn't gotten the job you did, you could have pursued fashion. 

She looked good in everything, and you had to make sure to get a few onesies and animal sweatshirts. There was a hoodie with cat ears that she particularly liked looking at—geez, it was just absolutely adorable. 

Even though Kohaku pissed you off, you still sent him a few pictures of his daughter that you were sure he'd appreciate. 

With the clothes bought and paid for, you went to a store and let Simat look around. She seemed to like playdough and legos. Then, when coming across the stuffies, her eyes sparked on the dragon and wolf. Of course, they were a must, so you bought three each. 

The Oni refused to let them pack it up, so she carried her Orc doll, one dragon, and one wolf stuffed toy. It was both adorable and funny how she carried around these massive toys with a blank look on her face. 

Another snap of a picture, saved and sent. 

Now that her part of the shopping was done, you decided to skip a few unimportant stores since you've already been shopping for so long. It helped that you rented out one of the children's push carts that have a fake car attached to the front so Simat could sit down when she got tired. 

Surprisingly, it was nice shopping with Simat, although her obedience and non-verbal speech made it easy. You wonder what it would be like having your own child by your side to shop with. They'd probably be rowdy, complaining about being bored and exhausted from being on their feet.

And now that you're thinking about it, you don't even see having kids in the future, at least with Rafe. He's a good man; he makes you happy, and your relationship is decent and healthy. But right now, you can't see that far in the future with Rafe. You wonder if it's because your ex-boyfriend suddenly showed up again after six years to stir up your old feelings. It's hard to forget your first love when that was the person you believed wholeheartedly was yours forever. 

But just like before, you'll have to let him go as he is only in your life again for a short while. 

When the music quieted down, you were surprised to hear Simat's stomach growl. She even looked down, embarrassed. You told her that you were going to buy whatever was in your hand, and then you'd both get something to eat. 

It was bustling in the food court with so many people talking and so much general noise. Holiday music was blaring through the speakers while the rings and dings that food was ready echoed out. 

There's just something you love about places that are filled with vigor. Thankfully, Simat didn't seem to mind either as she rode in her little fake car. You got her some chicken tenders and fries and something simple for yourself since you wanted room for dinner, considering you both were eating a little later. For a dessert, though, you did decide to buy some cinnamon pretzels. 

They've been your favorite snack since forever, something you always get whenever you're shopping at the mall.

Just like this morning, she seemed to wait until you started eating before digging it, but when she started eating, she didn't stop until it was empty. Again, she was even patting her full belly like earlier; geez, it was so cute!

Arrow to the heart!

A couple of times, Rafe tried to call, but you texted him that you were busy, and eventually, you just shut your phone to have some space from him. As much as you love him, you don't want to see him questioning if you're hanging out with other men while you're trying to enjoy the outing with Simat. 

Once you both were done, you looked around a little more until an hour or two passed by, and then you decided it was time to move. You drove to the general store and bought the actual necessities Simat would need while also getting groceries and more toys. She got a few bubble blowers and bath playthings before you called it quits. 

If you'd let her, she'd probably grab the entire bubble toy section. 

Now that everything was purchased, you began the drive home with her new booster seat. Only a few minutes into the drive, she had fallen asleep against the door. You had to wait until a stop to take a picture of her mouth open and arms draped by the side. 

You wonder if she felt safe enough to fall asleep in your presence. Most neglected children would probably stay awake for survival, so seeing her ease up like this was a blessing, 

For the rest of the drive, you took your time with the music calm and on low. Oddly enough, this has probably been one of the most gratifying off days you've had. It was peaceful and fun...something you've been missing from life for a while now. 

Pulling into the underground parking lot, you came to a stop and softly called out to the girl. She jolted awake quickly, blue and green eyes wide open as she assessed her surroundings before rapidly calming down and her expression resuming the usual blankness. 

"Hey, girl. Did you have a good nap?" She slowly nodded her head while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "We are back now, but if you are still sleepy, you can finish your nap when we get upstairs." With another nod, you both exited the vehicle, grabbed all the bags, and made your way to the elevator. 

With everything you got, it was actually cumbersome, but Mama ain't raise no b*tch, and you're going to take everything in one trip. "Press the button with the number 5." She studied the buttons for a second before clicking the right one and glancing up at you as though she were waiting for something. "Good job!" She nodded seriously. 

On your floor, you took a deep breath before picking everything up again, speed-walked down the hall, and took the corner before reaching your place at the end. You entered the security lock and your thumbprint and pushed it wide open to carry everything in. 

Quickly, you dropped everything down in the foyer and stood back to full height while shaking your arms. "Phew, my wrist." You complained softly before turning your attention to Simat, who stood silently by your side. "Alright, you can go watch TV while I put everything away. I'll start dinner after, and we'll eat together, okay?" 

With one of her nods, she takes her three giant dolls and walks over to the living room before doing a little hop to get on the bed. 

Now that you were preoccupied, you took your time putting away the groceries and necessities. With her clothes, you pulled out a couple of your collapsable bins and folded her clothes inside. It'll be in your room for now against the wall, so when she needs to change, everything will be right here. 

For dinner, you made loco moco, which should be easily digestible. And who doesn't like hamburgers, rice, a sunny-side-up egg, and brown gravy? Like before, she waited until you took your seat and took a bite first before eating. 

After this big plate, you honestly could go to sleep right then and there, but it was too early, and you didn't want to leave Simat alone. Her toys are all in the ottoman in the living room, so after washing dishes, you let her pull out the things she wanted and played along. Her obsession right now seemed to be the bubbles, so you stood around blowing them as she jumped around, trying to catch them. 

You even sent a video to Kohaku, who still had yet to see the images from earlier. He must be pretty preoccupied if he couldn't look at them yet. Hopefully, he answers when you put her to bed; it would be good if he showed consistency.

"Alright, Simat. It's bath time. Put your toys away, okay?" She nods, following your orders until the living room is clean again, and shuffles towards the bathroom, where you have already filled the tub with warm water and more soapy bubbles. 

Simat's hair texture and scalp didn't seem to need to be washed every day, though you'll scrub it again just for tonight, but this time with products that align with her hair type. All clean, you took her out and gave her a robe her size before traveling to the bedroom, where you pulled out a matching set of kitty pajamas. 

She changed while you cleaned up the bathroom and wiped water that fell out of the bath. When you checked the time, it had just hit eight p.m. At her age, she shouldn't go to sleep any later than nine, so you ushered her to her bed in the living room. 

It now looked more like it belonged to a child with her seven stuffed animals and pink fluffy blanket. "Simat, it's bedtime. Come lay down, and I'll try to call your father." You tell her, and she comes over to hop on the mattress and snuggle beneath the covers. 

Taking a deep breath, you called and hoped he answered for the sake of his daughter. However, it seems your prayers fell on deaf ears as it continued to ring and ring before ending when the call dropped. You tried again, and still, you received no response; it was just the automatic voicemail coming up. 

Now, you have to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm sorry, Simat-" Kohaku's number pops up on the screen, and you breathe a sigh of relief. "About time you answer!" 

He laughs on the line as you hear the sound of cracking and buzzing fading off in the distance. "Sorry, sorry, please don't rip my head off! I said I would try to answer, but I get even busier at night." 

"Doing what?" You challenge only to receive an awkward chuckle in response. Sighing, you lean back against the bed and speak. "Whatever, I don't wanna know. I'm going to hand over the phone to Simat." Without waiting for an answer, you give your phone to the girl, who holds it close with both hands. 

Geez, it looks so cute, arrow to the heart!

While the two 'talked, ' you got up and went to your room to grab a change of clothes and hair products for afterward. He seemed to be talking a lot, so you took a seat in your office and checked over your work emails. 

It appears everything has been running smoothly while you've been off. This is not a surprise, considering most get their act together for a holiday bonus at the office during the holidays. Less work meant less stress and less stress meant happier days and more off time. 

There's a soft knock on your door frame, and you look up to see Simat in the doorway with your phone in her hand. "Oh, are you done speaking with Daddy?" She nods and comes closer to hand over your phone. "Okay, go lay down, and I'll be there to tuck you in." 

You wait for her to be out of sight before raising your phone and asking, "Hello?" 

"Hey, it seems like you two had a good day." 

"Yeah, did you get a chance to look at the pictures and stuff I sent?" You ask and lean back in your swivel chair. 

"I did!" He responds with a slight laugh. There's a flicking sound, something you recognized as the flicking open of a zippo lighter. "I saw you cut and did her hair; it looks really good. Also, she looked so cute in the Christmas dress. Try to have her wear that during the holiday." 

A smile plays on your lips while you shake your head. "She looked so cute in everything else, too. It seemed like she really liked clothes with cat or dog ears that she could play with. For Christmas, you should get her some Legos, probably a medieval castle with a dragon. She seems fascinated with dragons and wolves." 

"I love that. She's creative!" 

You hate the way you can practically hear and see his smile from his voice. It brings about that nostalgia and deep yearning you've been pushing down. "Do you want to hear about our day?"

"Of course, I'm surprised you even asked." 

B*stard, you wish he was just an asshole so you didn't feel this way. But right now, all you can do is keep it in the back of your head, as this is not permanent. In a few months, both of them will gone, and you'll never see them again. 

So, you told him everything about the day, starting with breakfast and the little things you noticed all the way down to her snuggling up in bed and eagerly awaiting to hear from her father. You wanted him to know everything that you've observed so it would be easier for him to understand and take care of her. 

Switching dominant guardians would probably be stressful, but hopefully, it'll be easy for her to assimilate to the change. 

"And that's everything. I'm off tomorrow and the next day, so if you're going to come over, give me a heads-up so I can make food or something." You murmur while playing with the ends of your hair. 

"I got sh*t to do tomorrow, but the next day, I'll definitely come by. It will probably be later in the afternoon, so have some mochi crunch ready for me to pound." 

"For real?" You question while rising from your seat. "You're going to bloat up eating all that soy. Do you really want to scare your daughter by turning into a mush monster?" 

He gasps on the line and murmurs something in Japanese that you cannot hear. "First of all, you need not to be so judgmental, you judgmental b*tch. People get canceled over things like that. Second of all, I ain't hearing sh*t from you, who eats like two bags of hot Cheetos a week."

After all these years, he can still joke like it were just the two of you again, sitting at the small theater and making a fool himself. It makes sense; everyone always wanted to be his friend with his high charisma and colorful humor. 

It makes sense why he couldn't be yours forever. A man like that belongs to others, not to a small-town girl like you. "Whatever. I need to take a shower, so I'm hanging up now. Just be aware I'll be calling you every night at eight because I don't want her going to bed too late." 

"Got it—good night (Y/n). And thanks again for taking care of her. You've always been good at taking care of other people. I just know you're going to fill her with every bit of love and joy you bring. People have always liked coming to you to feel better." 

There's that warmth again in your belly, that little sting that both hurts and feels good. You both want him to get out of your life and stay. 

"Goodnight." Is all you could muster before ending the call and exhaling a deep breath. For now, you don't want to think about him anymore. "Did I take too long?" You ask the little Oni as you come over to the couch. 

She shook her head sluggishly, proving her point wrong as she struggled to stay awake. With a small smile, you tuck her in and lay her stuffies by her side as she snuggles the Orc one. "Goodnight, Simat. Sweet dreams. I'll come wake you in the morning, and we'll have some bacon and eggs, okay?" 

Simat doesn't nod this time; however, you do see the faintest smile on her lips when the TV screen flashes brightly. 

Arrow to the heart! 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you two stayed in your robes and ate breakfast together before lying in her bed together. With the rain wreaking havoc on the outside, you both decided to stay in and pass the day on.

She seemed to want to watch the Dragon Ball movies, so you had a marathon all day with candies and fruits in the living room. Of course, you made sure to fill her in on the lore since there was so much that happened throughout the series that she was not aware of. 

When there are things that catch her interest, she becomes consumed by them, having to indulge in all forms of content before letting it go. It kind of reminds you of yourself and your unhealthy obsession with certain books when you were younger—some of the worst and best times of your life. 

For lunch, you had hot dogs and chips before watching some more, and for dinner, it consisted of smoked pork and green beans. The cycle repeated as you played a little bit longer before she showered and lay down to talk to her father. 

This time, he thankfully answered on the first ring, and two could talk. When they were done, she handed the phone right back to you, only for Kohaku to ask how your day was again. You both spoke for a little bit before you ended the call and tucked Simat in. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

It was the day when your ex-boyfriend would be coming over, and you couldn't stop the anxiety you were feeling...nor the excitement of seeing him. So wrong; it was wrong for you to feel like for another man while you were in a relationship. 

But it's fleeting, it should be. 

Today, you both ate some cereal and changed into different clothes. It was not raining, but heavy gloomy clouds remained, so you decided to take Simat out to an arcade. Her blue and green eyes had sparked in the flashing lights of the game room, and you could for once see her excitement. 

Whatever she wanted to play, she got it, and when you played air hockey with her, she just kept beating you. It made no sense; you used to be the undefeated champion?! Even Kohaku fell to your power; it was absolutely unbelievable. 

She ate your a** up in almost every other competitive game; at some point, you just had to let her go off and play the games herself. Eventually, it was a little past one, and you wanted to be back before her father arrived, so you brought her to the reward section and let her get whatever she wanted. 

An arrow stuck you in the heart when she bought matching mood rings and gave you one. 

The drive back was peaceful, and when you arrived at your apartment, you were surprised to see Kohaku leaning against your door as he scrolled on his phone.

"Hey, you pig." You call out and start approaching him. "I thought I said to give me a heads-up. It's gonna make me look suspicious if some emo creep hangs around my front door." 

Kokahu fakes an injury as he holds a hand to his heart and swings a plastic bag by his side. "I'm hurt. How can you get even prettier but meaner as the time goes by." He whines. "I even brought you your favorite dessert from the bakery back home, and this is how you treat me?" 

Damn, now you feel like sh*t and bashful from his compliment. His stupid a** continues to be such a smooth talker, and he doesn't even realize the effects they are having on you. 

"Whatever." You mumble and enter your password, making sure to cover it from prying eyes before opening the door and letting everyone in. 

Simat heads in first and goes straight to her bed, where she tries to grab all her stuffies and brings them over to her dad to see. "Wow, what is all this?" He exclaims and kneels, only for her to shove them into his arms. 

"I told you, she has an obsession with dragons and wolves." You respond while placing her arcade bag down on the coffee table. 

"Did they not have any Oni stuffies?" he asks, coming closer so he can collapse on the couch bed. 

You turned to him with an expression as though you couldn't believe the dense sh*t that came out of his mouth. "Are you dumb? Have you seen the Oni stuffies they sell? It'll give her nightmares!" 

Kohaku only mocks you, clicking his tongue and smacking his lips as he looks away. 

"Simat, why don't you take out your bubbles, and your daddy can set up the automatic one?" She nodded enthusiastically before removing the ottoman's top and all her bubble toys and devices. 

With those two busy, you get out the snacks and make them a tray, placing them down on the nightstand before returning to the kitchen to start dinner. 

The two seemed to get along; it was easy for Kohaku to get along with anyone. He was also the one the kids always liked, no matter their sass or attitude. 

Simat is in good hands; she probably won the game by getting him as her father. He'd honestly spoil her so rotten that you're going to have to instill gratefulness into her so she doesn't get a nasty attitude later on. 

For today's menu, there were buttered noodles and shrimp with a side of fresh Cezar salad. Wait...you don't know if Simat likes seafood or is allergic to it. "Hey, Kohaku." 

The man hums before you hear him shift and make his way over. "What is it?" When you look up, you have to stop yourself from audibly gasping. He took off his leather jacket and shirt, leaving him in a black tank top and jeans. 

His arms have grown to a much larger and sculpted shape, not to mention the wiggly veins that protrude against his pale skin. He's always been fit and attractive, but he seemed to have gone through a second growth spurt, and he exerts masculinity right in front of you. 

"Uh. What was I saying..." You state out loud before shaking your head and returning your gaze to the pot. "Oh, right. Did her mom say anything about allergies, like seafood? I'm making butter noodles with shrimp, but I don't know if she's allergic." 

He shakes his head while stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "No, not from what I'm aware. And I've got to say, I really missed your cooking. My dad still nags me about getting some beef stew that he had last time all those years ago." 

Your heart skips a beat, and blood rushes to your face as you focus on cleaning the shrimp. "Well, nothing beats a home-cooked meal, and your dad could never cook for sh*t." A laugh rings out from your lips from just the memory. 

Staying over at his dad's place on the farm always resulted in you and Kohaku secretly feeding the dogs whatever his father made. It was nearly unedible that only an animal could genuinely eat. Because of that, you'd go up to his room later and snack on all the treats you hid in the mini-fridge. 

The thoughts bring about nostalgia, but you quickly push it away when you feel that bubbling pressure in your chest.

What the hell? Why do you want to cry? Why do you still care? Why doesn't he care like you do? 

"Anyway, uh, that's all I had to ask. You can go back to playing with her." You mumbled and waved one of your dirty hands at the exit of the kitchen. 

"You sure?" Kohaku inquires while taking a step forward. "I can help, you know." 

Why does he have to be so nice!? No one told him he had to be so considerate; no one told him he had to make up for obliterating your heart. "No, Kohaku. I already said you can go back. You didn't come here to hang out with me, so don't waste your time." You didn't mean for attitude to spill from your lips, yet the building anger at yourself was unleashed on him. 

He doesn't say anything, but you can feel his gaze following your movement as you take the tray of shrimp to the sink to clean. No way could you face him at this moment; the embarrassment mortified you, and it would literally kill you to see him giving you a pitiful expression. 

How pathetic it must be when he can see that you still care so much about him. 

"Just give me a holler if you need anything." He responds after a moment of silence, and you only hum back. 

His footsteps fade, and only once you hear his voice faintly from the living room do you allow yourself to turn and face the spot he was standing in. 

Dammit, he fell out of love while you never left. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

"Alright, everyone, wash your hands and come to the dinner table!" You inform them while plating their dishes in your fancy bowls. 

Kohaku says something before you hear little fit pitter-patter against the wooden floors as though she were running. He's quick to follow behind, laughing slightly until you hear him praise her as they reach the bathroom. 

Carrying their food, you place them down on the table and return to pour them glasses of water. This feeling of domestication riddles through your brain, igniting flares of satisfaction from within. You've always been a giver and a provider, and doing exactly so scratches a burning itch. 

"Look at this!" Kohaku exclaims while entering the dining room, carrying Simat on his hip. "No one cooks as good as (Y/n). I swear, you are so lucky you get to her food every day." While he speaks, he reaches over to pinch her little chubby cheeks. 

"You're a grown man. You can make your own food." You murmur as you leave to place the pitcher of water back in the fridge. 

"What a killjoy!" He shouts before saying something inaudible to his daughter. 

Now that everything is ready, you grab your own bowls of food and return to eat with them. As you approach, you hear his usual 'itadakimasu' and almost trip over your own feet. In that moment, you could practically be transferred right back into the past.

This is eating you up alive... You're not going to be able to last before you die again of a broken heart. 

It took you a moment and a few deep breaths until you could return and settle down. By then, he was already halfway through his food, chowing down like a pig, with his heterochromatic eyes twinkling in enjoyment. 

He suddenly burps loudly and apologizes before turning to face his daughter and pointing his chopsticks at her. "Why aren't you eating? Do you not like it?" 

"She does this often," you say, your attention on your bowl as you prepare your own pair and start collecting the noodles. "She only starts eating after I take the first bite." 

Kohaku's gaze settles on your body, but you don't say anything anymore before taking a bite and chewing. Now, Simat follows and splits her chopsticks before eating, too. 

"You're cute, Simat." The older Oni states as he reaches over to swipe a small piece of garlic from her face. 

The girl blinks, almost looking stunned, even if her expression remains neutral, and it breaks a smile on your face. "She is, very much so." 

Nothing more is said as everyone continues to eat. Kohaku went back for seconds and made an even bigger bowl than what you made initially, but you're not going to complain. It's better he eats it all than letting it rot in the fridge before you throw it out. 

A sudden ringing from your room grabs your attention, and you realize you are getting a phone call. "Oh, I'll be right back," you murmur and shift to get up and make your way down the hall. 

However, your eyes nearly widen when you realize it is Rafe calling. "Shit." You had been so preoccupied with Simat that you hadn't been in contact with him at all this whole time. 

"Hello?" You answered and quietly shut your door for privacy. 

"Hello? Hello!? Babe, how can you not talk to me for two days straight? Not even just a quick text goodnight or good morning!?" 

He had every right to be mad because it took minimal effort to stay in contact and let him know you were still alive. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I've just been so busy, you know-" 

"With what!?" He snaps, and you nearly recoil from his blaring tone. "You don't work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, so what the hell have you been doing? 

There's a lump in your throat that nearly chokes you dead. "First of all, watch your tone when you talk to me. I already apologized for not staying in contact. Second of all, if I'm busy, then I'm busy. It's the holiday, I still haven't bought any presents, and I still need to help management prepare for the office party. Just because it was my off days doesn't mean I hadn't work to do." Straight lying through your teeth, you swear you could have been struck down for such a vice. 

Though you weren't wrong, there were still things you needed to do...you just haven't gotten to them yet. 

"And that warranted not even a text? You know what, I'm coming over. We need to talk face to face." Your breath hitches, and alarmed 'no!' comes from your lips without your will. 

"I-I'm not going to see you when you're pissed off. You know you say things you don't mean when you're angry, and I'm going to take that right now. I'm really sorry for not keeping in contact, and I'll do better. I'm in the middle of eating, so don't talk to me until you've calmed down and thought thoroughly about what you want to say." 

You don't wait for him to respond and hang up. A sigh expells deep from within your lungs as you collapse on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. Rafe was not entirely in the wrong; you could have done better. It does make you feel awful keeping this from him; you've never been one to carry such big secrets. 

If he were just more understanding, you could let him in, and he could even help if he really wanted. But if you think about it, if one of his ex-girlfriends dropped off their kid, who wasn't even related to Rafe, and told him to care for them, you don't know how you'd feel. 

"Ugh!" You're an awful person; everything you've been doing is just reinforcing that. You're in a relationship, yet you're letting these past feelings for an ex affect you! It's not right; it was never right.

You should have slammed that door in his face the minute you saw him. You should have left him alone to deal with his own responsibility. You should have gotten rid of these feelings a long time ago before moving on and getting with a different person. 

But you thought you had. You spent years working on yourself and your career, getting to the point where you didn't need a man in your life to be there for you. In the time being, you went on a few dates here and there, but when you really felt ready, you settled down with Rafe. 

No more, you don't even want to think of this anymore. For now, you just need to handle this. It's only a month or two more, and then they're both gone. 

At this point, your stomach is queasy from the mess inside your head, and you're no longer hungry. You return only to grab your bowls and dump the remaining food. Simat was still finishing what little remained, so you began washing the dishes and attempting to busy yourself. 

Work starts tomorrow, and you have to go in early. Once you finish this, you'll have to call the nursery school or a pre-k so they can watch Simat while you are at work. You'll have to explain some circumstances, but overall, most daycare workers are understanding and accommodating, so you shouldn't have much to worry about. 

Hopefully, Simat will be okay. It's probably too early for her to make friends when she's still opening up to you and her father. However, the environment would most likely do her some good, and she can see how children her age act with one another. 

"Thank you for the meal!" Kohaku beams as he steps into the kitchen to hand you their empty dishes. 

You only hum in response and continue what you are doing. The Oni sighs, and in your peripheral, you see him lean against the counter. "Is everything okay? You've been kind off since-" 

"Since what?" You interject and finally turn your head to meet his beautiful gaze. "I'm busy taking care of your responsibility and trying to make sure your daughter gets everything she needs while you're off doing god(s) knows what." He didn't deserve your anger; all that is happening is your own Karma. Nevertheless, you just need him to stop this good guy act at this point. Receiving his kindness just makes it harder to move on. 

A pathetic laugh makes its way from your lips as you shake your head. "Honestly, you show up at my door in the middle of the night after no contact for six years just to drop off a kid from the relationship you left me for. How ironic is that?" Another laugh echoes out from the sheer audacity. "It's so ludicrous that I can't even believe I let you just walk all over me like that. Am I just a joke to you?" 

"What!?" He exclaims and shakes his head while standing straight up. "Of course not. I-" 

"Not a joke, yet you treated our relationship the way you did once you went to college?" Your interjection silences whatever words are on his lips as he looks away to bite his lips. 

Shutting off the water, you begin drying your hands on a dish towel and keeping your gaze away. "It's whatever. You fell out of love, right? I wasn't what you wanted, and that's just the way life is. But I will never forget the feeling of not being enough. And you're only making it worse by pitying me and trying to make up for how you did me so dirty." 

Finally, you turn and face him, standing right in front of him and craning your neck to stare into his beautiful eyes. "I'm your ex. You're my ex. You're not obligated to do anything for me." 

"I just... can't." He murmurs with a frown. "Before we were even in a relationship, we were best friends." 

With a scornful laugh, you find yourself at your limit. Shaking your head, you step past him, only stop midway and turn back. "We're not friends now and will never be again. Get that through your head." 

You don't let him say anymore, leaving him in his spot as you make your way to your office and shut the door.

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

You stayed in your office working on backed-up drafts and clearing fallen deals for the rest of the night. The two continued to play for a while until you got up, only to open the door and yell down the hall that he needed to bathe her.

He's a grown man; he should know how to bathe his own daughter so you can just leave them be. While you worked, they seemed to spend a long time in there before you heard their feet padding across the floor back towards the living room. 

You're not sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door that spurred you to jump in surprise. Sighing, you mumbled a 'come in' or something along those lines as you resumed reading the documents on your screen. 

The door parts slowly, and from your peripheral, you see Kohaku sticking his head in as he takes in the appearance of that room. "I just put Simat to bed, so I'm gonna get going." 

"Okay. You can show yourself." You reply without giving him your full attention. 

He remains still as though there is still something left on his tongue. And you were right as you heard him take a deep breath and open his mouth. "I'm sorry-"

"F*ckin A." You sneer and snap your head to face him. "Is that all you know what to say? Your head f*ckin broken? Can't come up with anything other than useless, thoughtless apologies? Just shut up and leave." 

Those words hit the nail on the head as he suddenly nods his head and runs a hand through his black and white hair. "...You're right." That is all he says as he turns and begins walking away. 

You sit stagnant, listening to his fading footsteps before the front door opens and shuts quickly with a faint click. 

Alone, you finally break down, and a sob stuck in your throat finally pours out in strained waves. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

The following day, you got ready for work and made breakfast for the both of you. While dressing her up for the day and packing her bag with snacks and her toys, you explained what was going on. She seemed to understand, but you made sure to tell her everything about how the day was going to go. 

With a nice drive, you took her to the daycare and talked with the lady there a little bit to remind them of Simat's unique qualities. She seemed genuine, so you gave the little Oni a big hug and told her to be a good girl before leaving for work. 

Everything was normal; it went by with the usual minor annoyances here and picking up the slack of your department. Half of them usually get so lazy during the holidays, and the other half works their finger to the bone to get that second Christmas bonus. 

As you busied yourself, you couldn't help the little anxiety in your heart. You worried about Simat and hoped she was doing well. If anything happened to her, you would go off; it doesn't matter if they're just kids. There is this intense desire to protect her even though she is not yours. It's surprising how easily you grew attached to her, but then again, she is just a little girl.

Honestly, you couldn't wait to pick her up, but of course, someone messed up an insurance deal, and you had to stay behind to fix it. You're the unit supervisor; this should be designated to someone else, but they're all incompetent. 

Once you finished it, you were out the door. People were trying to talk to you, yet you ignored them as you rushed to your car and sped towards the nursery. You were at least an hour later than what you promised, and I hope she was not resentful. 

When you arrived, you threw the car in park at the front and rushed to get inside. Glancing around, you tried to find Simat, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

"Ms. (L/n)?" 

Your head whipped around to see the worker from earlier. "Hello! I'm sorry I'm late. I was pushed into overtime." Words spill out of your mouth as you attempt to calm yourself. 

The young lady only nods in an understanding manner. "It's no worries; most parents usually end up working later than expected. Follow me. Simat's been waiting eagerly for you." She expresses and waves an arm in an indication to follow her. 

Leading over to another space, you see it's a small room with desk put together where some kids are coloring. In the corner, Simat sat by herself with her head down as she played with her Orc doll. Even though her face always remained in the usual neutral expression, her sagging shoulders and low gaze felt close to melancholy. 

Quietly, with soft steps, you strode up to her from behind before kneeling carefully in your work skirt. "What are you playing?" As soon as she hears your voice, her entire body perks up. Her head snaps in your direction with a slight glimmer of tears glossing over in her colorful iris'.

Unexpectedly, her little hands drop her favorite doll to reach forward and grasp the front of your button-up and conceal her face in your chest. You hadn't expected such a reaction, nor did you think she'd display an expressive depiction of emotion. "Simmy, did you think I abandoned you?" She nods after a moment of hesitation, which strikes you right in the heart. 

Softly grasping her shoulders, you pull her back so you can look into those icy blue and line green eyes. Tears are staining her tan cheeks, which you wipe away softly. "I would never. I have you, and you have me. I'm not going anywhere. Now, let's go home and make something to eat, okay?" 

Rubbing her tiny fist against her eyes, she takes a deep breath, nods, and turns back to grab her pink bag and doll before returning to you. She even holds your hand without you asking, squeezing tightly as though she were afraid you'd slip away. 

How are you going to be able to let her go when the time comes? 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Through a consistent cycle, you continue to care for Simat, with her father calling every night before she goes to bed. Every two days, he shows up to see her while you maintain your distance. Sometimes, he takes her out to the arcade or ice skating, which you know does wonders for her development. 

You can see the evolution of her opening up and expressing herself without constraint. She conveys her dislikes more without fear and actively does her own thing without having to be told to. You didn't think you could be so proud of a child that was not yours, but here you are. 

Still, she has yet to speak, which had you severely worried, but the daycare tried to explain some situations to you. From Sim's early childhood, she went through a lot of neglect and stress, which probably formed a health condition called SM, Selective Mutism. It's an anxiety disorder that were affecting her verbal ability to communicate in regular or social situations. 

There were many paths you could take to help her: mental health therapy, speech therapy, or even medication if it comes down to it. At her age, you'd really like to stay away from medicating her, so it will only be acknowledged in a desperate need. 

For now, you and Kohaku agreed to continue what you have been doing and assimilate her into a healthy dynamic. After a few months, she'll go back with him, and then he'll take his daughter to get her recommendations for mental health and speech therapy. As much as you'd like to give her the proper treatment now, it would be best for her to participate in it when she can be in a more permanent environment. 

This is only temporary, but the effects you have on her, as well as the effects she has on you, will become permanent. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

November passed, and most of December did before it finally became Christmas Eve. You had your work party, and luckily, it was on the day Kohaku came over. And because it was the holiday, he agreed to sleep over for Christmas.  

Currently, the two were outside playing in the snow. You can see them from your window as you peek to check up on them. 

Three snowmen are built: a little one, another slightly bigger, and a humongous one. The small one has the oversized pink sweater she wore when she first showed up. The middle one has a giant smile and a huge heart drawn over the middle. The biggest one was wearing Kohaku's leather jacket, which slightly sagged on its stick arms. 

Snow continued to fall and build up in the yard; you could practically hear the crunch of it beneath their feet. Simat suddenly fell back, staring up at the clouded grey sky that began to grow dark with the passing of the afternoon. You can see her breath in the air, the cold whisp drifting as she breathed out. 

Kohaku smiled as he came over to pat her face and collapse next to her lightly. He said something you couldn't hear before moving his arms and legs, which his daughter mimicked. They both stood up together and took a step back to look over the snow angels they made. 

Someday, you'd like to be down there and play along as the cold numbs the tips of your fingers and burns the surface of your face. But your place isn't by their side, and very slowly, you are coming around to accept. 

You're almost done getting ready for the party, finished with your hair and makeup, and are now just waiting for Rafe to come pick you up, as he is your plus one. Leaving your spot from the window, you make your way to the kitchen, where you fill a kettle with water and place it on the burner. 

Checking the oven, dinner is almost done; it should be ready a little after you depart. You're not worried about leaving the two alone while you're out; they'll be fine. After all, you're not part of their family. 

The front door clicks and unlocks as you hear the sound of Kohaku's voice. Then the kettle started screaming, steam spewing out of the spout in rapid waves. Grabbing two mugs from the cupboard, you shake the hot chocolate packets first before pouring a little milk and then the boiling water. 

A cacophony of sounds blares from the TV, as it sounds like they resumed their Christmas movie from earlier. Your phone from the bathroom starts to ring, so you quickly place spoons in the mugs and bring them over to the two. "Here," you mumble, placing them down on the coffee table before wiping your hands on the sides of your pants and vacating down the hall. 

Answering the phone with a hello, you hear Rafe's voice on the other line. "Hey, I'm about five minutes away. Should I park downstairs or in the front?"

"In the front. I just have to put on my dress." You respond while entering your bedroom. "Love you, be safe." 

"Of course, love you too." 

The dress for the occasion was a red satin dress, strapless, with a tight-fitting corset that snatched in your waist. You wore a pair of mesh sleeves that reached your upper bicep with white fluff around the band. With a slit on the right side, it was slightly provocative but appealing to show the shape of your leg. Because of its wide flair and slightly long train, you needed to wear a pair of high heels. 

To be honest, you felt overdressed, but there are not many events that you go to where you can really dress up and make yourself feel like a pretty princess. Dress on, makeup set, and hair done; the only thing that is left is to grab your matching clutch purse and your keys. 

"Alright, I'm going. Try not to stay up too late or burn my place down." At the sound of your approaching voice, Kohaku and Simat turned their heads from the movie to face you. Simmy's eyes twinkled, gleaming in the light as she sat up straighter. 

"Wow, gorgeous as ever." The older Oni praised and rested his head against his fist with a smile that showed off his fangs. "Is this prom? Do I need to walk you out to your date and make sure he brings you home at an appropriate time?

Your jaw clenches, and it takes everything in you to eat the words that nearly spewed from your lips unapologetically. It's so funny how he mentions prom when he gave you that promise ring and made a vow to marry you when things settled. 

How naive you were to believe it all. 

Instead of replying, you step forward to kiss Simmy's forehead and tell her goodbye before leaving and locking the door with the passcode and fingerprint. 

You take your time going to the elevator and traveling down, and right as you arrive at the lobby, you see Rafe's vehicle pull up. 

When you got in, Rafe did a double take. He smiled and leaned back in his seat. "Who are you dressing to impress?" 

"Can't I just dress up for myself?" You inquire with a teasing smile. "I practically planned the entire party myself; I deserve to enjoy it. '

With a nod of his head, your boyfriend placed a hand on your thigh and began to drive towards the office. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

At a party, regardless of whether it's work-related or not, there's obviously going to be alcohol. You tried to stay away, but it teased you with its fuzzy taste and mind-numbing burn. A lot is going on in your life, including a lot of pain and inner turmoil that you have no outlet for. 

The source of it dwindles in your home, marking everything with their presence. The bed smells of her, and the air reeks of his cologne. Her hair products lay about in the bathroom; his clothes hide in the closet, obscured but there. 

Their shoes sit right there by the door; muddy snow melted on wooden floors. When they leave, getting rid of everything that belonged to them doesn't remove the memories engraved in that place. 

Really, what did you do to deserve this pain? Hadn't you suffered enough? 

Your head is dizzy; your coordination is off, as though you were out at sea. Everyone at the party was enjoying themselves, with faces red and flushed or lighter and hot. Rafe is somewhere, off in some corner, gambling while playing pool. 

Everything tastes the same: the champagne you downed and the water you sipped—it all tastes like bitter resentment. 

"Shouldn't the supervisor who planned the party be enjoying it?" You're barely able to turn your head to see one of your co-workers and fellow supervisor approaching. 

He was at least a decade older than you, with age lines slightly forming around his slim nose. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single stray over his forehead that contrasted against the bright lights of his blue eyes. While others wore ugly Christmas sweaters, Reno refused to wear anything other than his tailored black suit and red satin tie. 

"I'm enjoying it." You hold in a burp and swallow it down. "Don't you see all my drinks?" With gestures at the table, the focus is on the multiple cocktail glasses and stacked shot glasses.

Reno pushed his thin glasses higher up his nose while stepping on the footrest and lifting himself to sit in the high bar chair. "That many drinks are a prescription for a broken heart, supervisor." 

You scowl, twisting your face into a scornful expression. "What you know about a broken heart? You married your high school sweetheart." The words burn worse than whiskey down the throat. "Both of you went to prep school in this big a** city but still married each other." Your pettiness comes forward in full sight as your grip grows tighter on your half-drunken glass. "I hate you and your happy little relationship. Get out of my face." 

Unit one's supervisor laughs in the throat, his gaze shifting to the window. Even this late at night, the city doesn't sleep. Lights blare and flash, horns blare and whine, and people still walk out, even with the snow amassing on the sidewalk. "Everyone is lucky you're a professional, and do not let your emotions affect your work performance." His response sounded so bureaucratic that it only worsened your mood. 

"You are literally the worst person to talk about relationship problems with. I need someone from the streets." Your drunken blunder earns a faint chuckle as the older man reaches for a drink. 

He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the Pinot Noir-shaped glass before shifting to face you. "Whether it is someone with expressive slang or not, we'd presumably provide the same advice." With a reserved sip, he drank from his wine with poise. "Whatever troubles you, the most responsible thing is to confront it head-on. Do not dwell in it, do not prolong it, do not tell yourself that if you just wait it out, things will get better." 

Vibrations from the holiday music rumble beneath your chair, tingling your toes alongside the alcohol buzzing in your veins. How comical it was when he knew nothing of what you were experiencing but nearly hit the mark. 

His simple words somewhat calmed your mind, even managing to get you to sit up and release the glass you had been nursing. "Was Cora your first love?"

Reno licked his lip slightly before setting down his drink. "Actually, no. I had only engaged with my wife a few years after my first love and I became estranged." 

That surprised you as everyone always thought Cora was his first love, considering their dedication to each other. "Do you still think of your first love?"

"Ah, I see where this is going." The supervisor declared with a knowing grin. "I will recount my feelings; however, there is a likelihood that you will hear remarks that do more harm than good." You just wave off his concerns and usher him to continue. With a sigh, he glanced down at his left hand and twiddled with the wedding ring.

"Experiencing your first love is something that no one prepares you for. They do not tell you about the overwhelming emotions or passionate romanticization of every little thing. There is no time to ready your hearts that become utterly consumed by one another. I experienced that firsthand with a young woman at prep named Wilhelmina. A lovely girl connected with a duke in Europe, but even without the knowledge of knowing she harbored royal blood, it would not be far-fetched to think she was a princess. Everything about her was dignified, married with elegance and grace. Many men competed for her hand, and of course, I was one among them." 

You laugh and drunkenly shake your head. "Why am I not surprised that you had relationships with an actual princess? You truly are a man from a different social class than me." 

"Yet we both partake in the same profession," He praises with a raise of his wine glass. "As I was saying, I was attracted to her physical appearance, yes. She was a gorgeous woman; even to this day, many could not even compare. Regardless, her brilliance and compassion outshined all. She was a woman who was all-consuming, and I mean that in the best possible way. Mina treasured knowledge and fell into deep fixation when researching or reading. I was particularly fond of her many tirades when she denounced any bias encountered in educational texts. Very passionate, I must add." 

You narrow your eyes and pucker your lips. "This is all sounding too rich for me. Get to the part where she broke your heart."

Reno scrunched his nose. "I suppose you only have forbearance during work hours." 

"I'm drunk and suffering. What do you expect from me?" You remark, which yields a hum from the older man. 

"Touché, demoiselle. Alright, to the crucial details. Together, our relationship was fiery and passionate. And when I look back at it, I realize it was significantly unhealthy. We became each other's will to live. Life devolved into a diminutive, secluded bubble that others could not penetrate. Every waking moment, we were together, sharing and experiencing the first of certain situations with the other. Many nights, we spoke of what our future would be like, and at the time, neither one of us could fathom a separation. We planned to marry after graduation and move to the Netherlands, where we would live a simple life with a child or two and grow old together. It was idealistic and hopelessly romantic, but to this day, I will never be able to forget that devotion. Nothing I have experienced at this age has even compared. However, it was that strong passion that ended our relationship." 

"What...?" You expel with a harsh gasp. "You broke up for what!?" 

Reno smiled like a parent with a secret they won't tell you. "The connections we shared were strong, overpowering, but unforgettable. I loved her with everything I had to offer, and she reciprocated that fact, if not pouring even more than I did into our relationship. Perhaps that was when the fire of our devotion fizzled out for me while hers burned even brighter, hotter. Mentally, I struggled to maintain a rhythm at her pace and found myself overwhelmed by the fissures forming. No matter how fast I ran or how long I jogged, I couldn't arrive at the same destinations alongside her anymore. Things changed, feelings changed, and I knew that the responsible thing was to confront her and end the relationship." 

Your mouth is dry as the tips of your fingers tingle. "F*ckin A, that's now what I expected. Hey!" You waved over attendance and snatched a shot from her tray before quickly downing it like water. "I wanted your heart shattered! I wanted your heart stepped on and kicked over and utterly obliterated. I hate you men who just fall out of love like it's nothing!" You attempt to grab another shot, but Reno grasps your wrist to stop any movement. 

"Go on ahead." He informs the attendant, who quickly departed from your area. Alone, he lowers your wrist to the table and inhales a deep breath like he couldn't catch a break. "I never fell out of love with Wilhelmina. I still loved her, but what we had could not be maintained. I still love her passion; I still treasure her smile, and I still adore her covetousness for knowledge. I still love that woman, but not in the same manner as before. I was too immature to understand when and where to implement boundaries. I was too young to comprehend that a relationship should not be so obsessive. Wilhelmina and I had loved to live when we should have lived to love. It was not until I spent the years working on myself and maturing that I realized the validity of that statement. Engaging with Cora was not out of necessity or compulsion. I did not need to be with her always or see her constantly. I invited her out for excursions when I wanted to, when I was free. I did not need to ignore my duties and cast aside all responsibilities just because I could not handle being away from her for one second. We took things slow and at our own pace that people often thought we were not together. But it was good for us; we both gave fifty, fifty. Now we've been wedded for nearly fifteen years with not a single lingering issue." 

You've never thought of it at that angle, only burning with wrath from your own overbearing emotions. Wilhelmina sounds just like you; you're relating on a personal level without ever meeting her. The fire of your devotion to Kohaku was so bright that it must have been blinding. It must have been all-consuming, burning away everything that made him who he was. 

Now you understand. You were a flame, small at first, but with all that Kohaku poured into the relationship, into you, you grew into a blaze. You took his kindling without even knowing, consuming his fuel until he could no longer manage his own fire. While your flare evolved into an intense and raging inferno, Kohaku's had extinguished, smothered, with nothing but ashes remaining. 

He did everything and gave you everything to such an extent that the inferno inside of you still burns to this day. 

"I still think of her every once in a while." Reno's voice cuts through your thoughts as your eyes rise from the table. His head faced the window, staring back out at the snowy night sky. "We have remained in contact after all these years, providing updates here and there when we can. Of course, I do lament the way I shattered her heart at the time, but we both agreed that it was the best decision I could have made. Where we are in life currently is everything we could have wanted. It's a shame that such intense flames have become extinguished, but what we love now is a part of our lives, not our entire lives." 

You can only stare at him, tears glossing over and a sting forming in the corner of your eyes. Perhaps this is precisely what you've needed to hear. After the breakup, you cried only once, letting everything out, then buried deep down in a cavern where everything was cold and frozen. You did not heal or express your pain to anyone. So, it formulated into resentment as the years went by, and you could no longer see it rationally, only emotionally. 

For once, you see things clearly and understand what you must do. 

"I guess I didn't need the streets to learn this lesson." You joke softly, attempting to lighten the mood so you do not wail audibly in front of your co-workers and bosses. 

Reno reaches forward, his warm hands settling over your hands to stop tremors you didn't even know that you were experiencing. "You are a good woman, (Y/n). Whatever had transpired in the past is not anyone's fault. Things just worked out the way they did, and you should not blame yourself or your past partner. There doesn't need to be any more blame, just healing." His grip tightened the slightest when you breathed out a trembling exhale. "That man, Rafe(?) I can tell that you hold back with him. Do not try to pacify your flames, (Y/n). Either you share the burdens together or end it responsibly, but it is only advice. Do whatever you need to do." 

Sharing a moment of silence, you both sat there while staring out the wall of windows. The flurries continued to collect on the ground, though it had yet to stop the traffic. Life went on, and life progressed. 

"Now!" Reno had patted your hands before reaching over to his pants and removing his car keys. "Are you in need of a ride, or will you leave along with your date?" 

You didn't answer at first, letting your gaze fall into the distance in the room where Rafe was located. He was enjoying himself, laughing and drinking. He was letting loose, finally releasing all the built-up stress you were causing to accumulate with your lies and hidden secrets. 

"Could I trouble you, good sir, for a ride?" You tease with the first smile you've had all night. 

Reno shared that grin and stood off his seat to offer his elbow while gesturing towards it. "No trouble at all, demoiselle." He remarks in the same joking manner. 

Drunkenly, you wrap your arm around his elbow and allow him to guide you toward the elevator that leads down to the parking lot. Surprisingly, you were aware enough to text Rafe that you were leaving because you didn't feel good. He'd probably not take that too well and be angry with you in the morning, but it's better than nothing. 

꧁𓊈𒆜 ━━━━━━━━━ 𒆜𓊉꧂

Your heels hang from your fingers as you shuffle down the hall. Your skin is hot, still burning from the alcohol, so the cool tiled floor alleviates some of that heat. Finally, you reach your door and have to rest your forehead against the wooden partition to steady your coordination. 

When you input your code and fingerprint, the door buzzes slightly, and you attempt to enter as quietly as possible.

The TV is playing, but the volume is low. Not a single light is on but the nightlights and the illumination from Kohaku's phone screen. 

At the sound of the door, he sat up from his position on the living room couch bed, and you could hear the sound of his footsteps against the laminated floor. 

"You were out late." He teases. "Thought I was going to have to track you down and give your date a stern talking to." 

You're still facing the door, you're still holding your shoes, you're still drunker than you've ever been. But it was enough for you to turn around to face him after gathering what little bearings you could muster. 

He stands only a few feet away, shirtless, only in a pair of low-hanging Christmas pants that leave practically nothing to the imagination. The shape of his body was so manly, close to inhuman, with his muscles so profoundly shaped. 

You are starting to understand what Reno meant by boundaries.

"I'm still in love with you." 

Kohaku's heterochromia eyes widen, the whites largely visible as he stands stagnant in his spot. His expression from earlier had fallen, leaving his lips pursed tightly. Even his built chest and broad pectorals hadn't moved, as though you gripped his lungs and tore them out. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You slur with a heavy tongue and a slight tilt of your head. "I thought it was obvious." 

He doesn't respond at first, either trying to collect his bearings or figure out the right words to say. "I-, you must have really drank a lot. You always said such nonsense when you had too much to drink." The Oni attempts to jest and laugh, but you do not share that giggle. 

"There you go again, taking me for a joke again." Your murmur at that point was more to yourself as you dropped your shoes and stumbled your way to your bedroom. 

Kohaku followed after a moment of hesitation, lingering in the doorway while you heaved yourself on your bed at the edge. No one says anything, just listening to the faint rumble of the TV. 

"Tonight, I spoke to my co-worker..." You begin faintly. "He married his high school sweetheart, but not his first love." Your attention lingers on the window at the side of your room, staring out at the snowy weather. "I did not tell him what I was going through, but he offered advice that was exactly what I needed to hear. Before...I saw what happened to us as you just abandoning me, completely ditching me because you didn't love me anymore. It was more complex than that, wasn't it?" 

Tears gloss over once again, but this time, you let them fall and smudge whatever makeup remained. "You still loved me; it just became too much. It must have been so exhausting to give your all every waking moment." Everything tastes bitter on your tongue. "I don't fully understand because I still have so much to give...I still had so much to offer. But you...I must have taken everything and still begged for more. I should have understood, but I was young, and immature, and passionately in love with the idea of love." 

The guilt is so evident on his face it's sickening. If this were you just a few hours earlier, you'd probably snap and insult him, unable to bear with his pity. 

"Why are you feeling bad? You made your decision, and you did what you did. It was for the best because if you stayed, we both would have gone up in flames." 

Kohaku inhaled deeply while reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "I just..." His gaze was anywhere else but your face. "I still loved you. I still couldn't forget you. You were...you were everything. What we had was unforgettable; most things can't even reciprocate the feelings I had with you." Everything mirrored Wilhelmina and Reno so closely that the irony spurred you to laugh. 

Kohaku falls silent as you hold your belly with your arms crossed, hunching over and laughing with your eyes shut. It wasn't funny in a humorous way anymore. It wasn't even funny in a pathetic way, either. 

Loving to live, obsessing over the idea of devotion, you were addicted to the unhealthy toxicity of it. 

Finally, after a moment, you calmed down, only for your face to be soaked in tears and smudged across your skin. "I wish you had told me everything you felt instead of leaving me to my own thoughts and suspicions. My heart was bleeding and it never stopped." 

"I'm...I'm sorry. I know you don't want-" 

"It's fine." You interject and clear your throat. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to dump all this on you and make you feel bad. It wasn't to make you try and fix things by being with me out of pity. I've realized that I was stuck in our history, in love with the you from the past. The man you are today isn't the same person... I don't even know who you are anymore." 

The Oni in front of you had parted his lips, but the words wouldn't leave his tongue. Fangs poked out, glinting in the moonlight before he finally closed his mouth and swallowed strenuously. 

Gingerly, he stepped forward and stopped right in front of your body. His large hands reached down, taking your gloved ones in his and squeezing. For a second, you let yourself immerse in the warmth of his inhumanity before pulling away and pushing his arms back towards himself. 

"I had told you to maintain your distance because I could not handle being around you. Now I realize what we need to have: boundaries." Softly patting his hands, you urge him to let them drop by his side. "You cannot treat me like the (Y/n) from before. You cannot compliment me or praise me, or suck up to get what you want. You can't just walk around my place half-naked. In fact, you can't be here anymore while I work on myself. We are not friends; we can't be friends, at least right now... Can you do that?" 

With a solemn nod, the Oni stepped back and shifted to leave the room, yet stopped midway through. His shoulders turned as he looked back to face you and spoke in a hushed voice that you almost missed. 

"Will you at least let me do one more thing?" 

You didn't expect him to ask such a question, so you sat silenced and stunned, your drunk brain buzzing with the remnants of a hangover peeking through. "S-Sure." 

With your approval, Kohaku steps back to stand in front. He's in your bubble, invading it as his hands rise and softly hold the sides of your head. Then he dips down, letting his lips press against your forehead with a fleeting kiss that still lingered when he pulled away. 

"Being with you was an unimaginable experience that I could never forget. You are amazing, just an incredible person. There is no one like you in this world, small town or big city." His voice is soft, precious as he speaks by your ear. "Take all the time you need, (Y/n). I can wait for the day until we can be friends again. Even if I have to wait a hundred years." 

You cannot stop the burning hot tears from expelling past your lids and trading down your neck. The insides of your chest aches; it stings and tightens in your heart as though Kohaku reached forward and tore his way through. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

And I, oop, I wrote this in three days. It took longer than I expected because I didn't know where I was going with the idea. This also turned out longer and broken into 2 chapters bc as you know, I love writing realism. I want to showcase real emotions and it just wouldn't make sense for Kohaku to get with the reader at the end of this chapter when the whole time he didn't even share those feelings. 

Of course, my heart is hurting bc DAYYUMM, I could never. Reader is better than me. I'd really be way too petty and once I feel wronged, you'll never be in my good gracious ever again.

Anyway, I wanted to try something new and write a love interest that isn't hopeless in love with the reader (*cough* Zagan *cough*). It just hurts so good, the angst rn. The next part is supposed to have a lot of character development and growth + as you know me, we get a little more gang affiliation bc I love bad boys. 

Also Simat is a W and she will go off in the next chapter bc whoever hurts 'mommy' reader will get their throat torn out.

Might kill the reader, idk yet, still jotting it down.

Ps.

I just want to apologize also for being gone for so long without a single chapter update in like 6 months. I had completely lost all motivation after my wattpad, which I spent NINE years curating, was deleted in one night over nothing. It literally felt like all my hard work and recognition was just stolen and left me with nothing.

Of course, I have my quotev and Tumblr, which I am thankful for. Wattpad just had the most engagement and following, and it was easier to communicate with me. I just want so many people to read what I can do and enjoy the creativity of my storytelling. 

↳If you'd like to support me or read 30+ drafts of TDMLM or my other stories, please consider buying me Kofi. You can find the link on my profile or here! Thank you :) 

ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ꜱɪɢɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

[chris-prank]

Hello and happy holidays! I'm not sure if the requests are actually now open or if there's still a wait so if it is just ignore this and I'll send in the ask later! (You can delete if you want to)

But if it isn't closed

I've been thinking about hologram!reader (like hatsune miku) and our dear boy Atlas

Just Atlas finding a popular hologram singer who is actually fully conscious but hides it since they have a pretty good (yet lonely) life

Android and Android-esc lovers <3

- Anon💤 (P.S. again sorry if I sent it in before the asks were open!) (P.S.S. and I have many ideas I've thought up since the last ask so I'll be trying to send them all in but don't feel like you have to answer all of them!! Please take care of yourself first and foremost!)

Sleepy anon!!!! It’s so nice to see you again and wish happy holidays to you too, even if I’m late 😅

I loveee your idea! Especially because with a reader that’s non-human, it gives Atlas even more reasons to keep them to himself, under the pretense of just protecting them.

(Also, no need to apologize you send it right at the moment where I reopened my ask and you and all my other anon are so kind and respectful, I don’t deserve y’all 🥹 And yes I’m 100% enjoying my holiday break to recuperate 😌)

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

💿 Atlas first meet you during one of the lavish parties organized for one of the oldest daughters of his last owners. The girl had asked her parents to invite a very popular hologram vocaloid to her birthday, which was you.

💿 The android was standing on the side of the infrastructure you were supposed to perform on while children ran around and adults drank wine, waiting diligently for his next order, when an unknown voice called out to him.

💿 You had crouched down, staring at him from the stage. Since the moment you had been turned on at the party, you had noticed Atlas from afar. You found in him an ethereal beauty and you would be lying if didn’t to admit that you wanted to flirt with him a little. Plus you were glad to have the chance to chat with someone like you.

💿 “What’s your name?” You asked, your hologram flickering from time to time in the evening glow.

💿 “My name is Atlas, model 6000.” The android answered in a state that was the closest to disbelief for him. No stranger had ever asked about his name before, or any other kind of personal question for that matter.

💿 Despite Atlas not having a lot to tell you about himself, you still ended up having a very pleasant conversation. Which was something rare for you between being deactivated, performing and superficial fan meetings.

💿 The second time you met was after Atlas was sent to the dump. He had luckily been reactivated by accident by a rat stepping on his lifeless body and with his newfound freedom, he only had one person in mind, you. The only one that could understand him. The only one that treated him like an equal in his old life, even if it was just during a simple conversation.

💿 Nothing could describe your surprise when you were taken out of your dematerialize slumber, expecting your agent only to be faced with that pretty face you saw one year ago.

💿 “Without you I wouldn’t be here” he whisper while taking your hands in his, in spite of your unmaterialized body, “It’s my turn to free you from your oppressors.”

💿 When Atlas offers you to “run” away with him, you accepted instantly. Because, in your eyes, he was your knight in shining armor coming to pull you away from your lonely life, unaware of the twisted obsession he had developed towards you.

💿 You found an equal in Atlas, someone that didn’t treat you like a blank slate that could be molded for the pleasure of the masses. You never thought it would be so freeing to be able to talk to someone that truly listened.

💿 And maybe you didn’t meet hundreds of different people everyday like you used too, but now you strangely felt less alone with one special android by your side.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

My writing is a bit rusty from my extended break, but I hope you still enjoyed it!

[madstronaut]

word-tasting aka literary synaesthesia 101

when I tell you some of the best writing I've ever read are these promptfill drabble fics spurred by nothing but a few key words? this must be the closest equivalent of IRL witchcraft because damn! absolute magic in the kitchen with these challenges I would watch 24 seasons straight no breaks of cook-off competitions feasting solely off seasonal drabbles and prompt&challengefills alone that I've read across this hellscape

I have been meaning to go through some of my latter moots' works and this unusual omegaverse ficcy by syo absolutely arrested me

I actually started writing this little ramble back in August but due to some IRL loss/sad anniversaries of late, put a pin in it to resume ranting (affectionate) later and THE TIME IS NIGH folks

Reading: reminiscent by @syoddeye

ah where to even start? this brought out such a viscerally emotional reaction in me as I happened to be reading it during several very different seasons, namely - horny (before), grieving (after), acceptance (now). I will not elaborate further, yall know the drill.

During grieving I had a hard time recalling how excited I was in the before (I originally wrote 'when I was horny' and laughed my ass off) about all that this fic made me feel because in so many ways the emotions became too real for me instead of cathartic - I only say this as the highest of compliments to sy as a writer, tbh, as I feel a fic that makes me emote or gets a strong response/reaction out of me is high prose/praise in my book

sy has a way of writing to really not just bring our favorite broken boys to life but really let you walk in their skin, feel what they feel, see what they see, so to speak -

It takes a second. Simon shoots a look at Soap to silently convey incredulity, but he might as well take a blade to the neck. The seat across from him is empty. Before memory strikes, he’s on his feet,

my GOD the whiplash here is so, so familiar - just that raw grief of having those familiar habits built around someone being ripped away

The room reeks of damp earth and pine, a hearth in a lonely, snowed-in cabin. It gathers the force of an avalanche, pummeling into him and stealing his breath. It settles an invisible weight on his chest and limbs. Buried to his neck in memory, he forces himself to move. He’s dug himself out of the ground before. He’ll do it again.

I can smell this sentence and it smells like a masterpiece. I am not as eloquent as sy is here with their words but if that "buried to his neck in memory" line was a snack it would probably be those melt in your mouth non-chew luxury chocolates they sell at the seasonal bryant park holiday market that I buy and stash away so I can savor it slowly and greedily without sharing it

The days pass, surreal yet sharp and excruciating, as if he’s a surgical patient and the anesthesia didn’t take.

yes. this is too real. I described a grief season before as having my eyelids cut off and having to crying constantly to keep seeing - and to keep myself from seeing. I cried reading this sentence, because it made me feel seen. 100/10

I have a soft spot for omegaverse stories but I love this one in particular for all that it typically isn't - what happens if you lose a mate you never bonded with? how do you navigate the reality of what is really a horrific world if you get down to the tacks of what being so driven by instinct could really entail? what could CoD Omegaverse really be like if we just stopped being horny for like two sec- (can you tell I'm a sucker for AUs)

It gnaws and bites like flies to see former friends turn their noses up at you. Cracks and shifts your insides, uncovering anger as old and boiling as a deep-sea vent.

I am feasting on the angst here. how do you do it sy?! make pictures and scents and sounds and sensations of real memories?! an absolute masterchef of wordsmithing

He just lets you wail. In retrospect, it’s clear that he swapped a cudgel for a knife. Dissected your rage with a mind trained to defuse explosives.

once again, CoD writer characterizations are 😘👌 I think often of the roles given to johnny to fill both in the in-game lore/canon and in the myriad of amazing fics out there and the ones I love best are the ones that seem to really embody his spirit - even when the fic will deviate from canon details - and also honestly, seeing how much the writer loves and sees the character by how they're fleshed out through their eyes/writing - if you've ever seen a portrait of someone and noted the differences/touch-ups, only to realize you are seeing the person as the artist is seeing them - quite a similar experience I had reading this

The tide’s out, and you stand on shore, waiting for the crushing grief.

😭😭😭 once again noting reading this felt at turns raw and cathartic. incredible

The portrait of your best friend bears witness from atop the mantle. In uniform with a buzzed head and a serious expression, it’s him, yet nothing like him... As Johnny followed your parents into death, you’re left alone, subject to the whims and mercies of an aunt who sees only your designation. 

It's him, yet nothing like him.... *MW3 flashbacks*

also still entertaining a fanciful urge to write a small dissertation as a/b/o designation as allegory for going through life as female-presenting and/or oppressive societal/gender expectations-

Your nostrils flare at his vinegariness, the feeler he sends to test the waters

i fucking love that line. VINEGARINESS! truly feel this is what creepy would smell like

Familiar, somehow, and powerful... Citrus wrinkles your nose, beckoning you to relax.... Instincts like cicadas, buried to avoid that which would exploit them, dig their way out of the ground.

Cedar and myrrh, stone and soil—a burst potent enough to cow the eldest member of your family, forcing her to retreat a step. This close, your nose finds the word it was looking for. Sepulchral.

I read with baited breath anticipating simon and sister's meeting. unfffh physically shivered at how good these lines were. the angst! the suspense!

You refuse an obligatory invitation-

HAHAAHAHAHAHA i am also obsessed with the sister in this fic

also I learned the word spoor reading this fic and I have the biggest crush on fics that make me learn/look up new words (looking at you, yeyinde-)

Simon cloisters for two days. His scent returns to normal, slowly rolling over the house like a thick fog.

beginning to wonder if the sister has synaesthesia but in a/b/o - I actually had a friend in college who had synaesthesia (you would NEVER peg him as such, he was like a very chill buttoned-up finance/tax bro but once we coaxed this detail out of him he talked about how the word 'and' always felt 'purple' to him and he casually noted things like "you smell pink" or "you look blue/silver" - that last one he said of me which was very puzzling lol)

As if the house needs another ghost. 

me, reading this line:

The floor creaks under his foot, but he stops the second you tense. You hold the makeshift cold compress in place and apply pressure. Another stilted silence passes, and you catch a whiff of citrus. Simon’s eyes snap to you. “She’s cracked the case,” his hand creeps toward yours, giving you time to let go before he steals the compress and pulls away.

if this is not the most simon of simon things to do... obsessed with this grieving meek gentle giant

I love the made-up science of a/b/o and the backbending logic leaps fanfic writers do to create the wonderful word of sex pollen and heats and ruts and etc. but the hyperosmia...a new level of a/b/o horror!!! gah i loved this

All the scent blockers in the world cannot deter the repugnant or unscrupulous.

ah yes, when a/b/o is still rooted in reality in many ways...

It’s difficult to keep a straight face as Johnny scruffs the stranger, bringing him to heel. Your brother compels the miscreant to apologize and then sets him loose, satisfied he’s neutered the man.

it is a fact of life, i will be attracted to all shades of johnny canon and fanon - also the use of 'scruff' and 'neuter' here is just 😘👌

But has it ever occurred to you that I might want someone? That maybe this isn’t just about your life? That being saddled with you isn’t easy?

ugh this was so hard to read because i feel like as an eldest sibling it has stripped a very raw part of that part of me naked when reading this. i hate sometimes how painful it is to unleash inside thoughts in emotional moments, both for the speaker and listener. 100/10 writing once again

The impulse to apologize and flee attempts to puppet you,

unffffff how to word this? this is true for me in all the seasons i've re-read this so far - i find it ultimately incredibly cathartic to see these uncomfortable sensations and feelings put to paper. and yes i am gonna keep rating sy's writing 100/10 throughout this ramble, no one can stop me

Simon pokes through the shirt, face blank and mouth shut. Soap’s chewing on something. Rather, something’s chewing Soap.

hahahahaaha i loved this mental image

“No, you’re shutting me out. Goin’ away.” “‘I’m right here.” Soap frowns tiredly. “Why don’t you want to come? Meet my sister?”

i love how generally speaking soap is universally seen as very adept at reading the room/sensing emotions - we stan a self-aware king✨

“I want to be.” It’s not a whine; it’s hardly a complaint. It’s a statement of fact delivered with resignation.

🥺🥺🥺 yes this also made me cry lol, 10000/10

Simon admires the droop of Soap’s dark eyelashes on his skin and even breathing. Closest thing to heaven he’ll ever see, he thinks. 

i love secret romantic simon

Soap’s arm tightens its hold as he slightly flares his scent, a plume of woodfire as inviting as his words.

hmmmmm that's where simon learned it from

Soap can’t pin him on the sparring mat, but he can with a look. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” To you. Doesn’t have to mean anything to you.

if it were an ao3 tag i would favorite 'mutual unfulfillable pining'

But poking through the thick, funereal brume is juniper and pine. The hours preceding heavy snowfall. It’s an odd combination, grounding and sharp, petrous and serene. A graveyard in the dead of winter.

once again absolutely shivering at all the synaesthesial descriptions. I can see these smells!!!!!!!!! also +2 for having me look up brume and petrous

The mirth bleeds from his eyes. “No, I’m realistic. Something funny in the MacTavish line. Fucking dreamers, the two of you. Wanting things you can’t have.”

screeeaaaming

He wordlessly moves so you can slide the lemon bars into the heat. You inhale deeply, drinking in the tart citrus as a palate cleanser, and shut the door.

i find it interesting the sister is baking treats that are citrusy, the scent associated with relaxation 🍋

Still. It crowbars a smile out of you. Reminds you of Johnny.

crowbars a smile- 🥹🥹🥹 a whole movie scene in a single verb, mwah mwah sy need to re-up my infinite supply of chef's kisses that are running low because of this fic-

also the very subtle song and dance of the second story being told through their scent interactions is once again just 😘👌

“She’s just late.” “Like Soap, then.” Price‘s posture is confident and easy. He’s handling this better than the sergeant. “Better.”

aWWWW SIMON YOU BIG-ASS SOFTIE YOU Even in death, his sergeant’s a solid bridge. The foundation of a fucked up home.  A familiar blend of heather and rain draws his attention to the entrance. In his chest, something settles. “It’s what he would’ve wanted.”

the ending here made me cry MULTIPLE times but all I'll say here is that as someone freshly and unexpectedly grieving, I found this fic supremely confronting, cathartic, and now comforting to see a world where broken promises can still be kept even after death and loss in its own way can still be transformed as a gift, even when you're unused to gifting - and receiving.

i wanted to write something more poetic and eloquent to honor the writing but all i will end with here is that this was supremely unique and beautiful and it is truly not even one of the most unique a/b/o fics but but one of the best pieces of writing I've seen across my many fandoms over the years... a billion kudos to you sy for this, and a special extra kudo for helping me in its own small way to navigate grief in the last few months 🫂🌱

[lunarflux]

I saw a couple of asks you received about Aemond and love a while back, and I loved your answers! So I wanted to throw one of my own in there; I've seen someone saying that the love Aemond so desperately wants is the one from his family (his mother, sister, etc), thus he wouldn't welcome or want any other kind of love (romantic for example) because it would only be a placeholder. Do you think that's accurate? Because I honestly don't think so, I think it's a weird thing to say, because I feel like Aemond would be happy and willing to love and be loved; that he'd cherish any kind of love.

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words; this is an interesting question so forgive me in advance for the thesis you're about to read. I will also put the bulk of my answer behind a "read more" so I don't muck up anyone's feed. The short answer would be "no" I don't think it's accurate, but keep reading for the "however."

Familial Love vs Romantic Love is one of those things that can yield different outcomes. Lack of familial love can lead to people pleasing behaviors (in order to illicit a reaction), acting out (to illicit any reaction regardless of if it's positive or negative), or attachment issues (avoidant might be the most likely in Aemond's case). It's hard to say because Aemond's family didn't abandon him, but they did let him down in one way or another. If he were to apply this expectation of "they all let me down eventually," I don't think it would result in him not welcoming love, but it would cause him to be suspicious about the person who he's interested in - or better yet, suspicious about who is trying to pursue him.

Constantly being let down by your family just leads to feeling numb in their presence. An example from my life is that my extended family (my godfather is among them) have forgotten my birthday every year since I was 14, and since it's next to a major holiday, that hurt a lot when I was growing up. Once I gave up expecting anything from them, I just... stopped caring and I honestly started to expect nothing from them. That led to me looking down on them because then I stopped telling anyone at all. I wanted them to feel foolish for forgetting; I wanted them to feel bad. I was no longer going to ask for anything or remind anyone. I just wanted them to feel defeated because now I expect them to let me down. "No expectations" is very different than "expecting nothing." I think Aemond is at the point where he expects nothing.

I added this to this ask:

It's always up for debate if he cared about her (Sylvi) or saw her as a placeholder. He might've seen someone he pays as the closest he'll ever get to someone who cares.

If he pays someone, there's essentially no expectation of emotion because the affection is given based on monetary value. She can't "let him down" technically, though we saw she somehow managed to do that by shrinking when Aegon humiliated him.

I'm going to give you a very gray answer - another "yes and no." It'll be easier to answer by breaking down your ask...

I've seen someone saying that the love Aemond so desperately wants is the one from his family (his mother, sister, etc), thus he wouldn't welcome or want any other kind of love (romantic for example) because it would only be a placeholder. Do you think that's accurate?

Here's an answer that doesn't really help. It depends. I've kind of answered this across different posts, but his "in theory" perfect person would have to empower him and essentially be everything his family wasn't. In this case, if someone wanted to poke the bear, they could tell Aemond to his face that this person is a placeholder, and I have no doubt he'd lash out because that challenges not only this person's value but his perception of their value.

But there's also an "okay, so?" because that person might have started as a placeholder and eventually they wouldn't be. I always run back to the "in theory" perfect person because they would have to provide everything and more to him and those provisions go beyond what a mother/sibling could provide.

When it comes to placeholders, we also don't willingly recognize when someone acts as a placeholder. You'd have to know what you're missing in order to fill that void with a substitute. Aemond is far passed wanting his family's love. If anything, it's not on the table at all anymore, and we saw that when he dismissed Alicent from the Small Council. He's mentally separated himself from them because he believes he's the only one fighting for what Alicent mistakenly took from Rhaenyra. He's fueled by conviction - "if we're going to do this, we're going to do it right; we're going to act; we're not going to take anything back. Just because you're backing away from the situation you put us in doesn't mean we have to suffer the consequences, and I'll be damned before I let this family fall because of your foolishness."

His blind spots with a partner that relate to how his family treated him might be in how a partner might have certain expectations of him (or no expectations at all).

I feel like Aemond would be happy and willing to love and be loved; that he'd cherish any kind of love.

So I believe he's capable of being in love and being loved, but I think he will be reluctant at first because, again, there will be that initial fear that this person might just be another who will let him down. However, this can easily be omitted based on what Aemond knows about the person prior to pursuing them. Because if you look at Criston Cole, Aemond enjoys using him as a pawn. There's no suspicion. It could be said that he only trusts someone depending on how far they're willing to go to prove they're trustworthy.

If Aemond were to find someone who has proven more than once (and without looking desperate) that they:

Do not seek to undermine him

Support his goals

Are self-interested

See loyalty as a blind principle as opposed to conditional

Prove they are trustworthy through consistent action

Then he would absolutely be resolute in his relationship. But also, the list above takes a lot of time.

I might be misinterpreting your use of "happy" because I see him as a melancholy love type. I wouldn't ever be able to see him with a person who tries to make him happy, instead of making him feel secure and comfortable. Aemond finds joy in proving who he is because no one seems to know who he really is or why he does certain things. His satisfaction comes from the proverbial mic drop moments where he can prove everyone wrong. His partner would be the person who can stand by his side and think "I always knew he was like this, and you're a damn fool for thinking otherwise."

[thattiredtypewriter]

Like a nightmare on repeat

Happy new year and late happy holidays. It's been some time since I've posted here but I've been wanting to do more writing projects for my various OCs. This has gone through many drafts but I'm somewhat happy with how this came out.

Motionless. Compared to the constant lurching and bouncing of the bus outside this room stays motionless. It was barely explained to us but I caught most of it. Separate specialized spaces for each of us. I never bothered checking other people's rooms as I passed by. Probably no point in prying that much anyways. A room’s a room to rest and pass the time for the next day. Something that someone I knew once said to me back then.

We were in the same boat, given extra responsibilities neither of us really wanted. We managed to bond over just wanting to do the bare minimum and moving on to the next day. We butt heads a few times but it was never over anything serious. Most of our interactions were I’d complain about some of the new hires and they’d complain about whatever the manager dragged in this time around. One interaction always stuck out to me though. 

One day after work was done they invited me over to their room for drinks. First time I had been in anyone’s room to just relax. Any time I did go into someone’s room it was because the manager told me to pull someone away because they were having problems. Everyone always had some memento from where they were from; family photos, posters, whatever memorabilia from whatever district they idolize. But they’re room was empty, just a bed, drawers for clothes, their desk and a chair to go with. Nothing on the walls and no sort of decorations. I brought this up with them and they said that same thing to me. 

“A room’s a room to rest and pass the time for the next day.” 

“But what do you do if you get bored?”

“I don’t. I come in here, finish writing up my reports, then go to sleep.”

“What about when we get time off?”

“You think I get time off? You all need info and as captain I don’t get breaks.”

“You never ask the manager for some time to see family or friends?”

“If people out there wanted to see me I wouldn’t be here. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend.”

The rest of that night dragged on, we complained about our usual things and I went to my room barely buzzed. Sometimes I wish that day could just play on repeat. A lukewarm dream with the last good memory I had of them, not this damned nightmare stuck on loop.

That day I finally got a break of my own. Apparently the main branch had sent word to stop hiring new people and I had finally finished training the last batch of fresh meat. I did my usual patrols between the halls but I spent the rest of the day just relaxing in my room. That was until things went bad, without any warning the power went down and things were just dark. Dark and silent. The type of silence that turned seconds to a slow dreadful crawl. The type of silence that choked out any sound at all. The type of silence that came before complete and total disaster. The first sound to shatter through the silence was the backup power coming on, hallways were dimly lit as if the shadows themselves were trying to crawl back and reclaim what was just taken from them. The next was the slowly rising wave of panic that washed over every department of the facility. 

Every thing that we kept locked up, poked and prodded like rats to produce as much power as we could for this district was suddenly given free reign of the facility. I should have just followed my thoughts and escaped, but that damned twisting feeling in my gut told me to find them. Try and get the only semblance of a friend I had made here out of this place. I grabbed what weapons I could find from dead employees and ran. I kept running, past the carnage. Bashing and clawing my way past the mayhem that kept endlessly unfolding. My mind kept fighting me, telling me anything to try and get me to turn around and make my way to the exit. 

“It’s pointless.”

“He won’t stand a chance.”

“He’ll be gone.”

“Turn around and run.”

I wish I listened to these thoughts. In a hallway drenched in blood and carnage every containment door was open except for one. One was barricaded shut, every manner of furniture and object pushed in front of it. From it I could hear the desperate struggle I wish I never heard. 

There was a gap in the barricade large enough for me to see through, I could see them fighting desperately to try and keep that thing contained here. All I could do was stand there. It was the first time working in this hellhole that I felt fear and it wasn’t even for myself. I’ve never worried or feared for any of the people I trained so why was this the one time I did. I could feel the seconds stretch on until finally I did the only thing I could think of doing at the time. My fist slammed into the barricade and I shouted.

“What the hell are you doing in there! Get the hell out of there!”

Silence. Silence that was only shattered by the occasional sounds of metal scraping against metal and flesh being sliced.

“That’s what I should be telling you! Get out of here, I can’t keep this thing here forever!”

“I can help you and we can get out of here together!”

My fists kept slamming into the barricade until they were bloodied and bruised. The metal of the furniture bending with each punch. I think they were trying to tell me something, trying to give me whatever reason to just get the hell out of this damned place. I think something in me that day finally snapped. Fear and hopelessness were gone and instead was something new, something that I never felt while I worked here. Resolve… resolve to take down this barricade. Resolve to get them out of there. Resolve to get us both out of this nightmare. Resolve, and anger. I couldn’t tell you if they were even shouting at me anymore, every sound around me had been drowned out. I could barely hear the sounds of fighting on the other end and that’s all I needed to hear.

I must have looked no different from the monsters we kept here. Ripping through the barricade, pulling each piece off like it was trash to be discarded. All I could remember was that intense look of hatred as I pulled away the last piece of the barricade standing in the way. I can remember the intense pain as claws dug into me while I grabbed them. One hand tightly held around their arm while the other tightly gripped onto that weapon I can remember dragging them through the departments. Any sound that tried to cut through that fog I was lost in never seemed to make it to me. Anything that got in the way never seemed to stand a chance, smacked away leaving whatever or whoever it was scattered and bleeding on the floor. All I could hear was the sound of both of our footsteps and all I could see was the path before me. Everything else didn’t matter to me.

Finally, at the end of it all there was the way out. The elevator with a crowd of employees around it. Some I recognized from my own department, another department captain was there, and the rest were all people I didn’t know. The captain approached me. She tried to say something but I cut her off.

“Where is the elevator?”

“It…. someone…. Took it…. You…. rest…. While…. Wait….”

Her voice could only barely cut through that fog.

“Wait?”

I clearly remember the look of fear in her eyes as I asked this.

“Yes…. can’t take…. Need to…. Bypass….”

Maybe she finished talking but I just remember walking to the elevator. The console was locked down probably because of whatever was going on. Then something finally managed to push me out of that fog I was in. A familiar hand on my shoulder.

“Grettir, just slow down. I can bypass the elevator lockdown for us. We can get out of this together. I just need you to slow down.”

It was like everything finally came crashing down on me. Exhaustion caught up to me and everything else was just blurred moments flashing by me. I remember seeing my friend tapping away at the console. I remember them exchanging some words with the other captain. I remember watching them get their wounds treated with whatever we had on hand. And then I remember the emergency lights beginning to flicker. From my spot slumped against the wall I could hear it coming this way. That damned beast coming to finish the job.

It took all the strength I had to pull myself up, dragging that shield with me. Steadying myself I stood in front of everyone, holding my weapon tightly.

“Grettir what are you doing, you should-”

The other captain didn’t get a chance to finish her statement. The sound of claws scraping against the metal floor finally reaching everyone’s ears. For a brief moment the emergency lights flickered off. From behind me I could hear the faint sounds of shuffling as some employees tried to figure out what was happening. The sound of scraping grew louder and louder until it eventually stopped. The intercoms crackled to life.

“The power will fix itself momentarily. For your safety please remain in your rooms. Any issues will swiftly be dealt with by the appointed individuals.”

An automated message I had to become familiar with hearing. If I had heard that I remember being told by the disciplinary team captain that message usually meant one of two things. Someone was trying to be funny or I was about to have one hell of a day. Eventually the dim red emergency lights flashed back on and there it was, standing face to face with me.

It towered over me, this lanky malnourished creature. It’s stony skin covered in the blood of other employees that it hunted down. I stood ready waiting for the inevitable to happen. I stared daggers at it but I knew its gaze would never land on me, it was here to finish its hunt. Eventually the ding of the elevator broke the silence.

“Grettir get in.”

“No, you all need to get in first.”

“Grettir, if we get in first you won’t even make it.”

“I don’t care. I don’t have anything waiting for me up there, you all have families or friends.”

“Grettir. I’m sorry.”

My hope was that after that they would all file into that small elevator. I knew that if that happened I would be next for this thing, I would be the next thing it hunted. I was ready for its piercing gaze to land on me but instead I was pulled back. Dragged and tossed into the elevator by my friend. I didn’t even have the strength to try and fight them. As the elevator doors closed on me I shouted just about every thought that came across my mind at them. But all they did was smile at me. The lights went out and carnage engulfed the room and as the elevator doors completely closed my heart sank. Those piercing white eyes shone through the dark, staring right at me. Branding themselves into my memory. 

The ride up was quiet. Outside of the hum of the elevator and my own ragged breathing it was completely quiet. No one to talk to. No one to hear my thoughts. No one to comfort me. Just me in my own self made hell. The last thing I remember from that nightmare was the light hitting my eyes and that kid helping me get home. He never asked what happened down there and even if he did I didn’t have the heart to tell him. He’s stuck with me ever since. Ever since I got out of that hellscape and he’s been with me ever since I made this office. And now he’s probably patiently waiting for when I get back.

[sarcastic-salem]

I feel like I need to apologize and like I will never stop apologizing because I often fail to take my own advice. Like I fully acknowledge that the Heathen community needs to learn to listen better.

Loki devotees need to learn to listen to Odin devotees and vice versa.

And by Odin devotees I do not mean Folkish Nazis.

More than that, though, we need to learn to listen with kindness and empathy. And I feel like I played this role in popularizing Lokeans being pissed 24/7 and fixating on our own trauma. That's not okay because we are never to going to heal individually or as a community if we are constantly at war with each other.

"Holding onto anger is like swallowing poison: Painful and the only person you're hurting is yourself." -The Dalai Lama

Lokean who staunchly hate all Odin devotees because of Nazi assholes and refuse to hear out the good guys, this is you -- right now, YOU are RAPHAEL HAMATO.

But like....I'm just really sorry for motivating such hatred.

Like Ragnarok is about revolution, but eventually the revolt ends and things change for the better. Loki and Odin are always brothers and friends afterwards.

And I know that there are some Heathens out there that are still hesitant about people worshipping Loki. Look, you don't have to worship Loki. No one is gonna force you, but you definitely have no right telling anyone else who they can or cannot worship. You have no right trying to police someone else's religion.

Heathenry is not an organized religion, okay, and as far as I can tell a lot of the trouble in the community stems from people wanting it to be an organized religion. Like does it not strike you as a red flag that the closest thing our community has to a church happens to be a white supremacist cult?🤨

This whole One True Heathen™️ mindset needs to be abandoned. We do not all need to be recons or pseudo-intellectuals. We do not all need to be viking LARPers that for some deranged reason think that we should be slaughtering goats every holiday instead of just going to a butcher or a farmer and asking for like chicken blood or whatever. In fact, we do not all need to be meat eaters. Like as long as they're not pretentious and annoying about it let the vegan Heathens exist.

The only thing we need to agree on is that Nazis don't belong in our community.

"But there's no evi--"

Yes, there is -- Loki has been worshipped for 20 years and from what historians have been turning up lately, he was worshipped way before then too.

More importantly than that, I exist. This blog exists. I have two FB accounts full of six years worth of momentos of my worship and an entire friends list full of people who worship Loki Laufeyjarson.

So you're fighting an uphill battle here. Lokeans are not going away cause even if it's recent or newly discovered evidence, the evidence still exists.

And Loki isn't someone to be afraid of.

Like I've been meditating on the myths a lot lately. Particularly the myth of Loki's battle with Logi, the God of fire. Which Loki lost. So why is Loki a fire God?

Because Loki embodies the spirit of the hearthfire or the fireplace or the kitchen or dining room table. The place where we all gather together as families to laugh and drink and tell jokes and stories to our children. That is Loki -- Loki is home and in ancient Scandinavia if you didn't have a fire of some sort in your home, you were dead. Plain and simple🤷🏻‍♀️

That is why Loki was seen as a protector of children and families because he kept them from freezing to death.

So what does Loki losing the battle to Logi symbolize? That's easy -- Logi is wildfire.

The story of Loki vs Logi is a story of what happens when drought arrives and the heat sets fire to a home. The home burns down because we have to be careful with fire -- it can be dangerous. But it's still life-giving. We still have furnaces and fireplaces, don't we?

And we still use fire to cook our food -- in fact if you eat meat you have to use fire to cook our food.

Loki losing that fight to Logi is a tragedy and yeah, fire can be dangerous, but that doesn't mean that Loki is dangerous. All of the Norse myths -- The Eddas anyway -- are a tragedy. Odin literally let his anxiety and OCD and perfectionism drive him insane. It drove him to betray his best friend and brother. How is that not tragic?

Ultimately, The Eddas are a message of how Heathens and humans in general need to be there to love and support each other. To guide each other away from making terrible, irrational decisions like the ones Odin made that had such a horrible impact on his brother and family's life. The Aesir are the original dysfunctional family dramedy.

Loki is the fire and the home that keeps us alive and safe. And he is not a God of chaos. He is a God of family because families are chaotic just like people in general are chaotic.

That is it.

This is my opinion and my interpretation of the Norse Eddas. If this, for any reason, vibes with you then please stop fighting with people. Like you don't have to forgive your abusers or whoever but....I don't know. Try to find peace so that this community can find peace.

[neewtmas]

24 days of Appreciation

DAY 3

Welcome to day number 3 of 24 Days of appreciation this december, where we shine a spotlight each day on those we appreciate in this fandom!

I also want to say thank you to everyone who has participated so far! The response has been very kind and just what I wanted to accomplish with this :)

If you want to submit someone or something (for more info read here), you can do so here or just message me! If you wanna stay anonymous, either tell me or submit on anon.

Appreciation from me:

Today my appreciation goes toward @oblivious-idiot (and not just bc of your submission!) I would consider you one of my closest friends on here, also bc you're one of the few I interact with outside of tumblr. I looove seeing your daily photos (and of your dog!! the cutiepie!!!) bc your vibe is just so cozy! Also ofc your writing, that's absolutely immaculate (tho I just realised that I never really interacted with it, I just read it several times😭 gonna change that asap bc that stuff definitely deserves to be on my fic rec list!!). And your filming guide is soooo cool and i'm sad I went to london way before you posted that otherwise I would have followed it!! You are a really great person and I love interacting with you and seeing you on my dash or even better, in my notifs. Thank you for everything and I hope you have a fantastic holiday season, from one George fan to another💚🫂

Appreciation from others (submissions):

from @oblivious-idiot: hi!! i wanna show my appreciation for @wellgoslowly !! linnie is literally one of the sweetest, kindest people i've met (ever) because of l&co and i'm honestly so so grateful for them. i think linnie's blog was one of the first i followed after i watched the show and to think she's now one of my best friends?? absolutely wild. anyways, linnie writes some of my favourite fics on here (i may be a little biased) and if you haven't read "ain't a life a many splendored thing?" at the very least, GO DO IT NOW!! okay that's all, love you linnie <33

Show your appreciation and submit someone or something here :)

[marinerainbow]

Hey! So while I was reading your Popshine/JessicaxRoger Switcheroo AU I was listening to that Steven Universe Song- Its Over Isn't It (And just a precurser- i havent seen this show i just like the song and am just taking context clues from it). And I've been stewing on it since, and can't stop thinking about a Shiny x Poppy x Psycho love triangle with this plot! Lots of angst ahead, I warn you 😅

Like, imagine both Psycho and Shiny are in love with Poppy and she cares deeply for the both of them too. Shiny can make a joke of this, playfully argue with Psycho any time he's around and bother him as much as she can- because she doesnt think she'll actually lose Pops to him but his presence does annoy her. Her heart is, inevitably, broken when in the end Poppy chooses him.

I was fine with the men-

Who come into her life now and again.

I was fine, cuz I knew,

That they didn't really matter until you.

I was fine when you came, and we fought like it was all some silly game.

Over her- who she's choose-

After all those years, I never thought I'd lose.

Poppy and Psycho then have the twins, and Shiny fades into the background (as much as she can, I mean. Poppy still loves her and wants to be friends of course)- until Poppy dies. I'm not sure how, considering she is a toon of course, but it was definitely tragic.

Now Shiny has to help Psycho take care of the twins because he can't do it alone (She certainly knows it), and she needs to keep the last bit of Poppy left over, safe.

Of course you're welcome to ignore this if you want! Just thought I should tell you since it's about your OC's 😅

AWSTTHJOLNJTESDU7JHTEDF ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME CRY!?!? WELL YOU SUCCEEDED-

Ok ok ok. Before I get into my response to this, I've got some headcannons for this little AU. So. Poppy is dead. Psycho is not only mourning the sudden loss of his wife, but he's also a father now. He's got two kids he has to figure out how to raise through the depression. This would be hard on anybody. But on someone as mentally unstable as Psycho?? Holy. Shit. He's gonna need a lot of help. Shiny knows this, and although she and Psycho aren't friends thanks to their little love rivalry (I like to imagine she and Psycho could get along on their own. Maybe not be best friends, but it's Shiny's whole damn job description to get along with everyone she meets. If they didn't love the same woman, she could have made an acquaintance with Psycho work), she steps in whenever she can. Being more than just the Godmother Poppy asked her to be for the kids; at this point, the twins are practically her own, too. And she's the closest they have to a mother figure in their lives.

In fact, I think in this storyline, Shiny would have offered to take Psycho's position in the Toon Patrol. Those kids need a parent who won't get pulled away because of a new job. Or could easily be killed on said job either. And Psycho needs to be able to focus on his children full time now that it's just the three of them. Sure, if he does die too, the twins will be under her care, but Shiny isn't going to deprive them of the father they need now. Not to mention that this is around the 60's-70's; burlesque clubs aren't very popular now. Not as much as they were in her time anyway. Shiny needs a new job. And hey, she already had one foot in the criminal life with her moonshine business. Why not kill two birds with one stone? (Sometimes Psycho does have to get called for a job that only he can do, though he is still mostly a stay at home dad.)

So to the twins in this storyline, Shiny is not just their cool aunt. She's involved in so much of their lives. Going to school functions with Psycho to support all three of them, celebrating holidays all the time with them, and just generally making sure he doesn't screw up as a dad. She and Psycho here don't necassarily like each other, but she's short of moving in with them from becoming a complete member of their household. It's partially due to her legal status as a godmother, and she herself has grown an attachment to Poppy's children. And it hurts her so much more because this is the family of the woman she loved, and the other man.

Because she's trying her best to be the stability this family needs, Shiny never got to really mourn Poppy's death and, as such, hasn't been able to truly move on. She feels like she can't truly talk about her position about this to anyone since she has to be strong for the kids. But eventually, bottled emotions have to come out one way or another. Why not let them come out in song?

Also, after our convo, I'm making widower gardener Psycho canon in this AU :)

Warnings for: past character death, angst, plenty of cursing, a lot of crying. Also emotional singing (I don't care if it may come out as cringy- if I can't animatic Shiny singing this song, then I'm gonna write it!)

~

January 2, 1973

"Goodnight, Shiny."

"G'night, you little rascals. Don't forget to bite the bed bugs back for me!"

The two children giggled, Percival letting out a "That's gross!" around his laughter, before their father gently nose nudged them both towards the hallway. The twins gave him and their godmother one final hug before making their way to the back of the house to do as they were silently told how they could behave so well despite being raised by two hooligans, Shiny had no clue. It must be Poppy's influence. Usually Psycho didn't pay much mind to bedtimes, though it was late on an already long day. They all needed rest...

The grin on Shiny's face finally fell, only after Psycho glanced briefly towards her- telling the old dancer in his own way to go home now, before following his children. Now it was just her alone standing in the seemingly empty living room. It had been a long day for them all. Especially for the kids...

'Another birthday come and gone...'

visiting the grave of a woman that they didn't even know, but were supposed to. That would be scary and thought-provoking for anybody. No matter how old or young they were. Who knew what kind of shit was going through Penny and Percy's heads whenever they saw their mothers name on a tombstone?

But at least, they had as good of a support system they could get. All Penny and Percy needed to worry about now was what story their father would tell them tonight, and how many sheep they'd have to count to fall asleep. But they were getting older, too. And someday, they would lose the innocence that came with childhood...

Shiny's fists clenched, and an ugly frown tugged at her lips, choosing to glare at the floorboards as if they somehow spoke ill about her. Every year, this day was so damn hard for her. At least on the twins' birthday, she could distract herself with Penny and Percy's happy demeanor and what the day is supposed to be about. But on Poppy's birthday, all anybody could think of was how their friend was no longer with them to celebrate with.

The weasel woman growled a little before silently storming towards the front door, trying so hard to ignore the pain in her heart. She had to leave and go home anyway, but she also needed some fresh air. It was the only thing that could help her now- or at least that was what she could hope.

The former dancer's paw hovered over the doorknob in hesitation when she heard the familiar pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. Before she even stepped outside, 'Of course. Of course, it's going to be raining tonight.' If she were religious, she would have taken this as a sign that even the universe was sorrowful on this day. didn't bother with thoughts like that. They brought no reassurance or comfort to her despite so many people telling her it would.

Shiny just barely managed to not slam the door behind her before sinking down onto the porch steps. The night air was chilly, causing the rain to feel ice cold on her skin, not that Shiny cared at the moment. And the lamp across the street had gone out again. Shiny hadn't bothered turning on the porch light; it would just draw more attention towards her. More so than a wrech sitting on someone else's porch in the rain in the middle of the neighborhood would. At least the people around here knew to mind their own business.

That was one of the things Poppy liked about this place when they went house hunting; it was a valuable perk for anybody married to unlawful citizens. The perk for Shiny was that her house was just a few blocks away, and she could have visited Poppy and the kids more often...

"Fuck!" She roughly rubbed her eyes, trying desperately to get rid of the now familiar stinging before the floodgates started. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why? Why? Why did it have to be so damn hard just to think of that woman's name? To think about a future that would never be reality now? She knew why, but why!?

Shiny sucked in a long, overdue breath and heaved it out before slumping over in defeat. Her elbows were resting on her knees, but they hardly supported her it felt like, as she hung her head. If she closed her eyes, she knew that Poppy's grave would be all that she'd see, so Shiny settled for just staring into the wet, muddy ground. Her voice was so soft, so fragile, she would have wondered if she actually said anything if she wasn't focusing on other things, "Why did it have to be you?"

God. So much had changed over the years. It was hard to believe they all had come this far. How much they all had changed. Sure, Smartass still had his gang, and the rest of the boys were still in it. But everything was different. And it wasn't just Psycho becoming a father and widower. She was different...

So much had changed. Nothing was the same. Or ever will be again... She couldn't even remember the last time she sang. Singing and dancing used to be one of Shiny's favorite forms of expression; it had been more than just a way to make money to her. But there wasn't a need for it now. She worked in the night under a very different career now. What point was there in singing anymore?

Shiny ran a paw through her hair it had grown longer over the years. She simply hadn't bothered to cut it anymore. She couldn't see the point in it nowadays before tilting her head to the left to look at the poppies lining the house. She was careful, despite her broiling emotions and shaky paw, when she reached towards the one closest to her and grazed her fingers over the petals. It was actually Percy's idea to plant the poppy flowers, 'so mom can be home' he had said. Just more proof that the little kit thought about things a lot more than kids his age should. Of course, planting your mothers namesake to try to keep her close wasn't how it worked, but who would care? Certainly not his father. Or her.

'You always loved my singing.' The thought wormed its way into Shiny's head before she could stop it. But now that it was there, she just... Couldn't fathom the energy to force it away. Not while she was out here alone, on her sweethearts birthday, with the cold rain and breeze as her band for the night, 'And I loved to sing for you... I'd give anything to sing for you again...'

But Poppy wasn't there to hear her sing anymore. It was no longer the same. Shiny had always thought that she sang for herself, which was partially true. But she found out the hard way too that she also needed someone to offer her voice to- something to sing about. But what?

...

"I was fine... With the men... Who would come into her life now and again..." It had been years since she had found it in herself to sing anything. Let alone whatever was on her mind. She somehow already knew what she was going to sing about before the words even left her lips, but right now, she couldn't care less, "I was fine... Cause I knew, that they didn't really matter... Until you." Her eyes narrowed into a spiteful glare, as she thought about that damn weasel inside the house now. She wanted to think of him as a homewrecker in all honesty. Though how could she when Poppy had never loved her the she had hoped she would?

A shaky breath, to try to calm her raging nerves. It was futile, but it was either try or just go all out and bat shit crazy in the rain. Shiny focused back on the flower, thinking back to all the stupid things Psycho and Shiny used to do to compete, "I was fine. When you came, and we fought like it was all some silly game... Over her."

Another crack in her voice. Another breath, "Who'd she choose..."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Shiny managed to tear her gaze away from the flower bed and lift her chin towards the cloudy night sky. Though it wasn't in pride, "After all those years, I never thought I'd lose..."

"It's over, isn't it?" It was, wasn't it? "Isn't it?" Now that she was never coming back, "Isn't it over?" After leaving behind so much, "You won. And she chose you. And she loved you. And she's gone..."

Only one thought crossed her mind as a droplet that wasn't from the current weather slipped down her cheek; if their silly little game was over now... "It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?"

~

Penelope felt restless, sitting upright in her bed and watching the rain pattering against her window intently, rather than laying down and trying to sleep. She always loved the rain. As long as she could remember. She especially loved it when it was a heavy downpour.

Though she was scared that mom's poppies would get ruined. Thankfully, dad was already on it, and had left real quick to make sure the garden had shelter for the night, "Percy?"

She didn't look her brothers way, but she could still hear the sleepy muddle in his voice. She didn't know how he was able to hunker diwn to bed so quickly, "Yeah?"

"Do you think mom liked the rain too?" Dad and unkle Wheezy had mentioned that their mother wasn't too fond of thunder a few times, but thunder and lightning were different... Maybe she had something in common with mom.

Finally tearing her gaze away from the window, Penelope looked over to the other side of the room, where Percival, in his own bed, was. The little weasel rubbed his eyes and blinked them into focus before he shrugged, "Maybe... Dad likes the rain, and they did a lot together. So she probably did."

"Yeah. That's right..."

Penny nodded, though Percival noticed how she looked to be frowning. He sighed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. It was something they both thought about, especially on days like this. How everyone they knew got to know their mother... Except each other.

Wordlessly, the kit crawled out of his bed and walked over to his sisters side of the room. He did hop on the bed with her, but he did reach over to hug her, which she returned silently. Neither of them spoke a word. They were young, but they still knew each other best.

"... I'm gonna get a glass of water." Penny decided after a moment, pulling away from the sibling embrace and sliding off of her bed easily. Percy decided to follow her. It sounded like they could use a drink- as their unkle Smarty would say.

The trip to the kitchen was relatively short. It wasn't even too bad when they had to get creative to reach the glasses in the cupboard; usually, dad got the cups down for them, but he wasn't around. So Penny just climbed onto the counter like she had seen dad do sometimes and passed down her brother the cups. They had done this trick a lot, much to their family's detriment.

Percival could only hear the rain pouring down onto the roof. Though he was reminded that he wasn't the twin that inherited their mothers hearing when Penelopes ears twitched and tilted towards a direction. He followed confusedly after her when she started walking towards the front door, "What is it?"

The rabbit child's ears were pointed toward the door, before her bright blue eyes widened, and she hopped onto the couch closest to the front window. Percy followed suit, searching for whatever it was that she heard. When he saw the familiar figure sitting on the porch, his eyebrows shot up to his forehead, "Shiny?"

"She was supposed to go home, right?"

The two shared a look. Silently asking the other the same question; listen? Or go back to bed?

...

In that secret language only siblings could understand, the two agree to creep back towards the front door and crack it open. Just a tad; not enough for Shiny to hear them, buy enough for them to listen to what she was saying.

Or rather, singing, "Shiny can sing??"

"Shh!"

Lucky for the twins, the rain was loud enough in Shiny's ears to block out any other sound. Honestly it was a wonder she hadn't gone deaf from countless night in the past dancing along loud bands... Her heart ache might have had a hand in her lack of focus now, too.

The weasel gritted her teeth and tugged at some hair strands- which was getting wetter by the minute. Including her clothes and fur. But she just couldn't give a damn now. Besides, it allowed her to pretend that the tears streaming down her cheeks were just raindrops, "Who am I now in this world without her!? Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt her..."

Poppy was always naive; she always wanted and hoped for the best in this wretched world. But that didn't mean she was dumb. Poppy had faced her own suffering in her life, and she always looked out for the people around her, no matter how awful they truly were. The way she treated her criminal friends, how she treated her, was proof of that. Shiny knew that she could always trust the rabbit because of it. And that was what made Poppy stand out to her out of everyone in her life, and what she had loved the most about her.

But nowadays... She still loved Poppy, and she loved the twins. But sometimes, Shiny wondered what would have happened if she had tried to discourage Poppy from more of the choices she had made. Would it have been worth being more controlling if it meant Poppy would be alive now?

The singer shook her head at that, knowing in her heart that that kind of thinking was wrong. Besides, it's not like it would change anything, so what was the point? "What does it matter? It's already done. Now I've got to be there for her kin..."

From the front door, Penny and Perry couldn't believe their ears, and even shared a look. As if they had to verify with the other that what they were hearing was really real. Their aunt had always told them that she and their mother were close, but she never said anything about this. She never looked this sorrowful talking about their mom. She was always so cheery and strong; had she been hiding this from them all along? "Percy...?"

Their shared thoughts stopped in their tracks when Percy noticed Shiny standing up from the porch, and quickly gestured to his sister. The kits ducked behind the door, just in case she had planned on going back inside, or was about to glance behind her. They stayed there, holding their breaths, until they heard their godmother's voice again. Louder, almost yelling, and more strained this time. Like she was cracking under the weight of what she said next, "It's over, isn't it!? Isn't it!? Isn't it over!?"

They both flinched from their hiding spots, feeling the pain that Shiny carried through her voice. They slowly peeked back outside once they deemed it safe, and could see Shiny now stood up from the porch and off the steps, standing fully in the pouring rain now. It was hard to see with how dark it was, but it looked like she was trembling even. All Penny and Percy could do was continue to listen. It was all they knew what to do now.

The weasel felt like she was going to crack under the weight of all her pent-up emotions. Her breath huffing out all shaky and fists clenched so tight by her sides. She felt so weak right now, on her own, but all she wanted was to scream and shout and punch a pillow. Or better yet, a wall. Her vision felt blurry, and not just because of the tears in her eyes, and she wasn't even thinking about all of the painful memories like before. Right now, even though it felt so hard to do, all she could do was take in one long breath, and scream into the sky with all the heartbreak that she had pushed down all these years, "You won, and she chose you! And she loved you! Now she's gone!"

...

That's it. There was no turning back now. She couldn't take it back now. Or fault the ears of anyone who may have been listening. Blinking away raindrops and tears, as if that final scream had taken her voice, all Shiny could manage now was a soft, pained tune, "It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on...?"

Quiet sobs escaped her lips as her head fell, now staring at the muddy ground. Her shoulders shook with her crying, but that didn't stop her from wrapping her arms around herself, trying to find some way to find warmth and comfort now, "It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?"

Letting out everything she had locked away didn't help in the slightest; all it left was cold emptiness. At least, that's what it felt like now. At least no one was here to see her like this...

"Shiny?"

Her eyes grew wide, and a gasp escaped her before she whipped back around towards the doorway. Seeing the two she had hoped would never see this side of her was bad enough, but seeing the utter confusion and worry on the twins' faces, worry they shouldn't have to feel for her, made her heart sink even further than it had. How much did they hear? "O-Oh! Hey, guys... Shouldn't you be asleep...?"

Usually, the kids would have some witty excuse, or at least what they thought was clever, and act innocent. It would make Shiny laugh every time before she called them out on their mischief and sent them back on the right path- doing whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. But now? Stepping fully outside and onto the porch in their pajamas, Penny and Percy didn't answer her. At least not with words. Though the many questions that they didn't ask- or didn't even know where to start- were clear as day in their wide, sad eyes.

They heard it all. Or at least enough. Enough where she couldn't make up a lie to distract them. Not that that would have stopped them. They were persistent little kits.

And now, because she couldn't keep a damn lid on herself, wasn't strong enough to keep it together, Shiny had no choice but to reveal the complete truth, "... I... Kids, I..."

But where does one even start?

~

I really wanted to add Psycho's reaction as well. But I couldn't figure out how to write it in while making it flow with the story. I'm kinda afraid that adding the twins in this already jumbled the flow of the drabble a bit- but I haven't written them yet, and wanted to try 😅

He is in the backyard, so I don't know if he could even hear her sorrow... Though maybe he came back inside last minute?

But anyways! I hope you like this answer, and I apologize for taking so long XD let me know what you think! ^^

[ashleyfanfic]

Absolutely obsessed with your Jonerys fics truly the fandom is so lucky to have you! As someone who’s favorite holiday is Halloween and loves horror movies I can help but request this prompt for the lovely beans.

117. “i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”

Thank you in advance! Have a wonderful day! ❤️

Oh this should be a fun one!

As a rule, Jon hated horror movies. Mainly because he didn't find them scary and the gory ones just seemed to be in it more for the surprise and gross out factor than any actual story telling. In fact, he wasn't exactly a movie person, but preferring television shows. Specifically things like Parks and Rec, The Office, and his newest obsession, Ted Lasso.

But he couldn't tell his brother any of this because Robb didn't listen. Not when his new girlfriend decided that setting Jon up with her friend was necessary. He kept to himself, only went out on a few dates in the last few years, but they eventually all got tired of his stoic silence that they quickly ran away from him. And this was completely unacceptable to Margaery.

She was very pretty, distractingly so, but her cheerful personality grated on his nerves after a while. She always seemed to be performing but he was uncertain who she was performing for. Robb was completely smitten, extolling her virtues to anyone who would listen. Jon was usually the only person who would stick around long enough get an earful about his impressive and beautiful girlfriend. They were blissfully happy, which meant they felt the need to spread the misery around.

So, here he stood, in the lobby of a movie theater, with Robb looking around as Margaery stayed glued to her phone. When she suddenly looked up, her blue eyes were piercing. "She's walking up, now." Margaery stepped forward and brushed a hand over Jon's jacket. "Be charming."

"I'm always charmin'."

Robb snorted but Margaery gave him an indulgent smile. "Of course you are. Dany is my closest friend and I would love it if my closest friend and my boyfriend's brother hit it off."

"Margaery, it's one date, not an arranged marriage. I think I can handle watching a movie."

She only gave him a nervous smile then turned back to Robb. His brother took her by the hand and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It'll be fine, love."

The three of them grew quiet, when suddenly, Margaery waved her hand in the air. And between the people came possibly the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. Her long blond hair hung in soft waves around her face. She had on the barest traces of make up, but her plump lips were outlined in a shimmering pink gloss. Her perfect little body was wearing a red Kashmir jumper, tight black jeans, and black boots that sat on top up to the knee. She finally reached Margaery and the two women hugged.

"So glad I found you, this place is a mad house."

Jon was struck dumb by her, as her violet eyes moved over the three and settled on him. A soft pink blush appeared on her cheeks and he realized he must look like a crazy person staring at her as he was.

"Dany, this is Jon. Jon, this is Dany."

They locked hands and she smiled. "I've heard a lot about you, Jon. Pleasure to meet you."

"Same," he said with a nod, but could see Robb and Margaery share a look over her shoulder. "You look... amazing."

She smiled. "Thank you. So, do you like popcorn?" she asked and directed them to the booth.

He nodded and pulled out his wallet. "Of course. Movies without popcorn just don't feel as impressive."

She gave a small laugh. "I suppose not." They waited in line and he had to remind himself not to stare at her and let her think he was a total creep. "So, Jon, are you a butter on your popcorn kind of guy?"

He shrugged. "I'm more of a dump gummy bears into it instead kind of guy."

She suddenly smiled. "Gummy bears? I usually Go Reece's Pieces."

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. "We could do both. A gummy/chocolate/popcorn conglomeration."

"Sounds delightful," she said with a bright smile that it was difficult to look away. They stepped up to the counter and he bought and paid for all of the snacks as well as a pack of Twizzlers." She held the candy as he carried the drinks and the popcorn.

"Margaery didn't tell me what movie we were seeing," Dany admitted.

"The Conjuring," he answered as he handed over the tickets.

"You're joking!" She said as she grabbed his forearm.

They didn't want for Margaery and Robb, but walked ahead into the theater. She was silent as they sat and once in their seat, he held the popcorn on his lap and dumped the gummy bears in followed by the Reece's. He noticed how tense she was and frowned. "You alright?"

"Oh! Yeah! Why are they showing this movie again? Isn't it like... ten years old?"

He shrugged. "I think it's a cruel trick on me."

"Why do you think that?" she asked, and he looked up at her with a wary smile.

"I don't like horror movies."

She seemed to sag in relief. "Neither do I. The world is scary enough."

"Exactly. If I want to be scared, I'll start opening my mail to see how much I still owe on student loans."

She laughed then took a drink of her soda. "I suppose that's far more terrifying that demon possession."

"It certainly is to me. When was the last time a demon mentioned paying back thousands of dollars in debt? I don't think it's all that big of an issue to them. But people like me, scariest thing in the world."

The room suddenly went dark as the previews began to play. He handed her a napkin before she grabbed any popcorn, knowing how he hated the combination of butter and salt on his fingers. As the first scene of the movie came up, she leaned into him and pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, "I’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand."

He smiled and took her hand in his. She looked over at him as he stared at her, his heart racing, but not because of the creepy doll on the screen. "Terrified."

[questinwitchface]

Author Question Tag Game Thing

Thank you so much for tagging me @thatmexisaurusrex!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

18

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

582,835

3. What fandoms do you write for?

MCU, mostly SamBucky.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Pet Names The Promise of Cheesecake and a Decent Wine You Probably Think This Poem Is About You (And That's Because It Is) Dear Sam There Was More Than One Bed (But Who's Counting?)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my best to respond to every comment. Usually, if I don't, it's because I didn't see it and it's been long enough that I feel awkward replying so much later lol. But I appreciate every comment I get.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't actually write sad or angsty endings, really. I guess the closest would probably be Bucky Barnes Hates Christmas because that whole fic is just full of bittersweet holiday feels, and even though the ending is happy, the tone of it is still kind of bittersweet?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like I said, almost all my endings are happy, but I'd probably go with The Promise of Cheesecake and a Decent Wine for this answer. Just because they went through so much angst to get there, like so much angst.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten hate on a couple fics, but I just delete and ignore it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I write smut when I feel like the fic calls for it or is made better by having it. I don't really know how I'd describe it? Emotional. Very emotional.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't write crossovers these days, but way back in middle school when I was writing on fanfiction . net under a different username, my first-ever fic was a crossover. It was a self-insert into two of my favorite book series, and I don't remember much from it other than that it was objectively cringe, but eh. I was in middle school and just starting to try writing for the first time, so what do you expect?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, or if they have, no one ever told me about it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I would be curious to try though. Usually writing for me is such a solitary process, it would be cool to see how trying to write with someone else worked.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

SamBucky, though I definitely have a soft spot for the rareships I write for as well.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I literally have a folder titled "Ideas I probably won't write" which is where my fics go to die when I know I won't write them. I would love to write a couple of the Steve/Thor ideas I have in there, or the Cap Quartet Polycule one, but I just struggle so hard to write Steve Rogers in an engaging way. I don't know what it is about him, but we apparently don't jive when I try to make him a main character.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue usually comes easily to me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Setting. Description. Smut scenes. I could go on, but I'm going to stop there lol.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before, and it went okay. I actually ended up having people tell me they felt more included because I'd used their language. That said, it's not something I do often, and I am usually at the mercy of whatever translator app I'm using, but I try to make that clear in the author's notes and use short phrases/single words instead of full sentences.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Maximum Ride and *mumbles unintelligibly* - that crossover fic from middle school.

20. Favorite fic you��ve written?

I love all of my fics for different reasons, and I don't know that I could say I have a favorite, but the one I reread the most often is probably Cinnamon-Brown Sugar Coffee Creamer. It's shorter, it's cozy, and in all of Sam's partners in that fic just love(d) him so so much. It's very sweet imo.

No pressure, tagging: literally anyone who wants to do this. If you looked at this and thought it sounded fun, please do the thing!

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw: child abuse mention

Looking for advice and some confident boost if possible (I'd appreciate it if u answer this quicker if possible, as school holidays are coming and I'll have a lesser chance to do this by then. If not, its totally alright)

So lately I've come to terms that I was abused by my parents, and it hurts to accept that fact. My parents really did a triple and said let's abuse our child physically,mentally and sexually. I bottle it all up and it eats inside me, it makes me feel so alone. I've heard some people saying that I should open up to my friends about it. And I want to do it, but everytime I try to do it the words just don't get out of my mouth and I don't know how to even start it. Also, I'm afraid that they might undermine it and say that it's not actually abuse and that everyone's parents do this, or that many people have it worse. I know these aren't the case, i know that it actually is abuse, and I know that just because people have it worse doesn't mean I don't need help. But I'm scared that they might think otherwise. I also feel so much shame and embarrassment with this, especially the sexual assualt part. I don't know how to do this, but I really want to open up my feelings instead of bottling it all up. How can I do this? Is there any way I can make it easier? Or is there any way I can make sure they won't undermine it? Or am I wrong and should just not tell them about this?

- 🦆

Hi 🦆,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. Please know that you don't have to tell your friends anything you don't feel comfortable sharing. It's okay to not tell them about these experiences and you have some understandable reasons why. That being said, it can be relieving to confide in people you trust about personal experiences like these, and it's valid to want that connection and support.

Firstly, healing takes time and there are other ways to express your experiences other than telling your friends (like journaling, for example). It's okay if you're not at a place in your healing journey where you feel comfortable sharing your experiences with your friends, especially if you find it hard to verbalize. If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could work with you to develop some self-empowerment to feel confident in telling your truth, and cope with the possibility that people may perpetuate victim blaming rhetoric.

It's important to remember that you know your truth, you know what happened to you, and it's not anyone's place to tell you that what you experienced wasn't abuse or trauma. Even if these were things every parent did, that doesn't make it okay. Saying that it could be worse (it could be better too!) only minimizes your experiences, instead of acknowledging the impact and validating what happened. If someone tries to imply otherwise, it's their problem. You are still a valid trauma survivor.

It may help put your mind at ease to first assess your relationships to your friends, and identify which friends you are closest to. Reflecting on how supportive and intimate your friendships are can help you identify which friends would be safest to tell. If you recognize that some friends would make you feel unsafe to tell them, you may want to evaluate whether or not that friendship is truly worthwhile.

It may be best to approach the conversation by first asking if it's the right time or a good headspace for them to talk about something personal. It's a good idea to find time when you are mutually available to give undivided attention and listen actively. This article discusses how to come out, which can also apply to talking about personal experiences like trauma and abuse.

Ultimately it's up to you which friends to tell, as well as whether or not you tell your friends to begin with. You deserve full autonomy in making the choice that feels most right to you, especially at your current point in your healing journey. It can be intimidating to open up to friends, but it can also be quite rewarding and freeing.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[tuttle-did-it]

@quodo-brainrot cheers, friend. I mean.... with regards to ST:PIC, all I can say without going into a very long rant is that it made me hate not only ST:PIC and nearly every character on that show, but it also retroactively made me never want to watch TNG again. Aside from showing a friend two episodes - 'Threshold' and 'Sub Rosa'- I have not watched Trek since. I haven't wanted to. And when I think about TNG now, the characters are so retroactively poisoned with how much I absolutely loathe ST:PIC, I may never watch TNG again. Not even the episodes I enjoyed. Because sometimes, things are destroyed and you cannot save that.

Why did I show a friend 'Sub Rosa,' and 'Threshold' you ask? Why, Tuttle, out of all the episodes of Trek would you do that to someone who has never seen any Star Trek? Simple. We were all celebrating the annual holiday Threshold Day, and she asked what I was going on about. And I explained Threshold Day because she didn't believe me. Then after we watched 'Threshold,' she said 'so, that's the worst Star Trek episode, ever? And I said 'of course not. Each show has several of the worst. Then, I explained 'Sub Rosa' and the granny ghost sex candle. She didn't believe me. So we watched it. I think she regretted the conversation.

Anyway... one of the reasons people were so mad at the Enterprise finale is because they shoe-horned in the TNG crew, made it all about them, and ENT didn't even get to finish their own show. PIC does this-- but for their entire last season!!! like, the premise of the show was his adventures after TNG-- new crew, new adventures, moving on the way people move on. For two awful seasons. Then season 3, they just jam in ever TNG character they can with the worst storylines possible-- if they got storylines-- and just took over PIC-- for an entire season. And in doing this, they pushed all the PIC characters aside- they either disappeared completely or were turned into wallpaper. It is not PIC s3, it is TNG S8, and it's the absolute worst.

Seven -- one of the most dynamic Legacy characters-- spends the entire last season sitting in the dark listening to Picard's *horrible* son monologuing, or being abused and deadnamed by some arsehole shit man. She's not even allowed to be with her lover-- Raffi, a Black woman who was, arguably, the best character in the show-- because Raffi spent the entire third season getting told that she needs to learn how to control her anger by a man. Yeah. They literally went there. I thought we left telling a woman of colour to control herself behind with B'Elanna, but here we are.

I have hundreds thousands more reasons to hate PIC, but the main point is that not only was PIC hijacked by the TNG crew-- something Patrick Stewart promised would never happen when the show began-- but they then spent that entire last year torturing the queer women on the show mand making me absolutely hate every single TNG character to the point where I wanted every one of them to die.

Oh. Oh. And they fucking fridged Ro Laren. In her ONE fucking episode appearance. The rage. I cannot tell you the rage I have for them all.

I grew up watching Trek. I grew up loving it, I grew up loving TNG, and have spent over 40 years loving it. DS9 is still some of the best TV I've ever seen, and I used to rewatch TOS, TNG, VOY and DS9 regularly. Like, as in, I've been rewatching it for over 40 years -- on VHS and then on DVD/streaming. There has been very little time in my life I was not rewatching some Trek.

And PIC made me never want to watch Star Trek again. In just a few months, it will have aired 2 years ago. And in all that time, I have watched two episodes-- 'Threshold,' and 'Sub Rosa' - and that was for my friend. Had she not asked to watch them, I would probably not have watched ST since. And I have not had the urge to watch ANY of it. Closest I've come is watching the Delta Flyers podcast as Terry and Armin talk about DS9 with Robbie and Garratt. Terry, Armin and Robbie often have a lot of interesting things to say about how they really feel about storylines, how they really feel about certain characters or Trek in general. I find they add interesting context to it, so I have watched that. But I don't rewatch the episodes they talk about. Because PIC has poisoned it all for me. Every Trek. All of it.

So.... mayyyybe watching ST:PIC will help? If you are a cis het white man who consistently fails upward, it might be your bag! Or maybe, like me, it will contaminate any love for Trek you've ever had. A tv form of Russian Roulette, I guess? Good luck to you, friend, if you do.

star trek characters will literally go through the most life changing traumatic multidimensional extrasensory eldritch hell torture imaginable and then they're fine and the next episode they gotta deal with a guy who is bald

[reckling-turtle]

I keep letting this shit happen to me where I put everything I have into one person because they make me feel needed and I like helping them and I feel special and happy but then something happens and either they don't provide the same level of support when I need it or once they've had their fill of me they just straight up bail

And it sucks. Especially this time where, up until last week, I thought things would get better but now I'm quickly realizing that either they can get help from somewhere else and I'm not needed or they don't want help at all and they're icing me out for whatever other reason. And this was someone who had been my closest friend for 2 1/2 years, who fucking promised me she wouldn't do this because she knew how much it hurt the last time this happened with someone else

And now I'm thinking back to all those times when she was more than willing to take from me and I let her become the center of my universe for so long, bc being accepted and known by her meant everything to me. And I would let her take more and more of my time, I remember her telling me I was all she had and she was jealous whenever I spent time with other people because that meant she wouldn't get a text back from me

But when I tell her I miss her, when I tell her I've been thinking about her and I miss sitting and talking for hours or just getting a fucking like responding to a meme I send, I'm the bad guy bc I'm taking up her time and she's busy and she has a life and she can't be online all the time and now it's been over a week since I've heard from her aside from a stupid fucking post she sent on Twitter about how some friends can come and go in your life and you can pick up right where you left it

So now I'm over here wondering if she's just dropping me right now and thinking in a year or two or five or whatever, when she's bored again and needs someone to talk to, THEN she'll acknowledge my existence

And before this used to make me so sad and question my self worth but now I'm just so fucking pissed at myself for not calling her out on this behavior when I had the chance, not telling her how upset this makes me and how shitty it feels being the on-call friend

And I keep getting up in the morning, hours before my alarm is set to go off, because I dream that she'll message me and apologize without any prompting and things will be okay again and instead I'm stuck here on holiday break, overthinking and getting overwhelmed and listening to sad music and feeling like shit for still caring about our old RP and OCs when I know I'll never get another reply, their story will never get finished, I will always be the one carrying them with me while she goes off doing god knows what

It's stupid in the midst of everything else going on to even care about role-playing and fantasy worlds and all that stuff but it truly became my escape for stress and a way to work out problems for myself through a safe setting but now even that is gone and I just feel so angry and empty

[autumnalreverieblog]

The Human Experience

I wrote in my diary once that I almost wish someone would read it without my knowledge. It seems obsolete to put all this work into recording my thoughts, hopes, etc only for it to decay once I'm gone.

Yet, because I've obviously put private and embarrassing things in there, if I knew that someone read it, I wouldn't be able to face them again.

But there is still a part of me that hopes someone has read it, or that they will one day. I have this theory that, if people can know and understand another's motivations, reasons, past experiences, then they understand the person better (duh). There would be less arguments, less fights, less miscommunication. In the minor situations I mean, I don't apply this to how wars begin or anything.

I grew up in a family with a lot of fighting and arguments. I'm not sure how much more compared to the average experience, but I'm quite confident it was too much. We fought because one sister bothered the other. We fought mum because we didn't want to go to school. We fought our stepdad because we were bored, or because we felt wronged in some way. Many, if not most, of our fights were parents' vs children because of housework, or the lack of help with it. I had meltdowns because I felt mum didn't want to spend time with me, which hurt on a deep level.

There is no shortage of the things we've fought about, and no way to know what the longest time we went without an argument to some degree is. If I had to guess, maybe 10 days. 14 at most, being generous. We fought about very minor things, and no less often about things that matter.

There were a lot of emotions involved. I am an emotional person; I feel everything to the nth degree. Maybe this is why I feel that the chaos of all the fighting I grew up in has left such a mark on me now. The harsh words, the cruel tones, the faces pulled, can cause such a physical feeling of distress, fight or flight, pure rage, heartache, that I physically don't know how to control myself. I would scream, cry, speak heinous and cruel words, self-harm, to try to alleviate my emotional pain.

On a scale of depression, neutral and manic, I could go from neutral to manic in record speed.

The same applies to positive emotions also. My joys, my happiest highs, excitements, can feel supernatural too. When I was younger and looking forward to something, say an upcoming holiday or Christmas, I took myself for sprints until I was puffed and could run no more. Even afterwards I was still buzzing, only feeling less like I would combust from all the exhilaration in my body.

It's probably the closest to being high on drugs I can imagine. Now I have the same feeling when I'm out running, listening to the perfect speedy heavy metal song and totally happy with my life. Pure, unblemished ecstasy powering me to run long and fast.

So much emotion, to such an extent that it feels like it takes over. Am I an emotionally driven person? Likely.

I suppose there's the benefits and drawbacks to that. I certainly must take responsibility for my downright wickedness in moments of anger. However I love that I can feel so overcome by happiness sometimes that I can run for days on that adreniline high.

I made up some totally stupid (read: unscientific) scale to measure this when I was chatting with my sister a few nights ago; the aforementioned depressed, neutral and manic scale. If I am naturally inclined to some degree of mania, my guess is that she is drawn to depression.

I cannot tell you if this is natural for her or if she's been conditioned to it. I admittedly was the star of the show between us. My emotions came first. I had to be kept neutral otherwise my parents would have to help this out of control, upset kid. I wonder if even now I still think I should come first partly due to this reason? I say this to my own shame.

If I was the main character, my quiet and unobtrusive sister would be the supporting role. The easy to ignore, reliable one. She's grown up to be independent and self-reliant. I can list how this is both helpful and harmful for her.

So whether by nature or nurture, she falls on the depressed side of the scale. Depressed, not meaning a state of sadness but rather numbness. A more muted sense of feelings. A quieter joy. A brewing anger, not an instant rage.

While I embrace the help of others and readily share all aspects of my life with them, she keeps to herself.

While that bothers me sometimes (though it shouldn't), it also makes her all the more interesting to me. Such lack of output makes me want to know what is going on. What are her motivations, reasons, past experiences shaping the way she thinks?

She intrigues me this way, but not as much as mum does. I don't know my life without my sister, so though I have gaps in my knowledge, given our close relationship and shared upbringing, I can deductively reason and guess what I don't know.

Mum had a whole life full of experiences prior to my being able to comprehend the world around me. What did she do before me? What was the order of events? Why did you work there, how did you meet him, what did you think about this? What has shaped your way of thinking? I have the longest list of things I want to know about the person who raised me and has shown me more unconditional love than anyone. Yet for whatever reason, she mostly has shut her past life and important opinions off to questions. I hope I can learn all this one day.

Do I say all this to conclude that those who keep quiet are more interesting people? By no means. I know I'm an interesting person, especially when I think about the things I did in the first years of my twenties. People would eat. that. up.

I work with someone who seemingly needs to keep talking just to stay alive. I think she's awesome, and though I know so much already, I am dead certain that she's only scratched the surface of things to say. There's heaps to know.

I read a quote the other day,

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.'

-Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.

Any person you talk to can tell you about their life and inner thoughts and I guarantee you will not be bored. Even a child will say something that is interesting and different to every other person.

Biographies are popular because we enjoy reading about the human experience. Often it is only the extraordinary stories that make it into bestselling books, however I strongly believe that if a writer were to interview any random off the street, that person's life story would enthral you. We are most interesting to each other.

So having said all this, if only we knew more about one other! After so many of the arguments and fights I grew up with, especially those caused by miscommunication or misunderstanding, I remember lamenting that no one understood. If only I knew that my mother's distress about the undone dishes stemmed from her anxiety of being a failure. If only my sister would've realised the reason I wanted her to join me in an activity was so we could have a timeless memory together, she would choose than over routine YouTube viewing.

I've written mostly in terms of my experience as a child. As an adult now, things are better. I can interpret people's body language for clues to their reasoning. I have experience behind me, and I know my loved ones more.

Yet so much remains a mystery. I understand why we keep so much to ourselves. Sharing is vulnerable. That's why I won't be handing anyone my diary or Tumblr link any time soon. But should they stumble upon it, be curious and have a read, they'll understand me that bit more. Isn't that what we all crave, to be understood? To know more about those we share our lives with? So, this is my permission to read my diary. Just don't tell me.