𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴

A supernatural wife never stays…

I’m always extra fascinated by folklore tropes that show up in a wide variety of cultures, so let’s look at another one: the supernatural/inhuman wife. These are usually stories about a man winning himself a wife that is decidedly not human, either through trickery or courtship. But it never lasts, because these stories all seem to have the same ending, the wife leaves:

Almost all selkie stories, both from Celtic and Nordic tradition, are an example of this. A man steals a selkie’s pelt and thereby binds him to her or leaves her stranded on land and in her desperation persuades her to come back with him and become his wife. After many years and many children she always finds her pelt, however, and as soon as she does she runs off to the sea. In most cases it turns out she has a husband and children in the sea too. In most she keeps leaving presents for her children and in some she still feels affection for her human husband, but she never goes back ashore. There are similar tales about swan-maidens.

An Aboriginal story from the Guugu Yimithirr-speaking people called “The forest spirit and his ten beautiful daughters” tells how the great hunter and warrior Gabul, the Carpet Snake, goes to the mountaintop where the powerful Forest Spirit, lives. He bests him in an unarmed fight, demanding to marry one of his daughters as reward before he will let him go. He takes the most beautiful of the ten daughters home to be his wife but starts worrying when she does not eat or drink. Eventually he takes her to the river and there she promptly turns into a fish and swims upstream back to her father’s mountain, leaving Gabul ashamed and broken-hearted.

There are also stories about fairy wives, most notably two from Wales. One, collected as “The Shepherd of Myddvai”, has a shepherd courts a beautiful maiden that dwells in a lake by bringing her bread. She agrees to go with him if he promises not to strike her three times without cause. Of course he promises this, but he taps her once for dallying to spur her into action, once in confusion when she weeps at a happy wedding, and once in disapproval when she laughs at a sober funeral. She declares their marriage ended and flees back to her lake, only returning once her sons are grown to give them gifts of healing. In the similar tale “Touched by Iron” a farmer’s son falls in love with a fairy maiden and the promise he must make her father is to never touch her with iron. One day as he helps his wife off her horse, she is touched on the knee by the stirrup of the saddle and vanishes. But with her mother’s help she does get to visit him sometimes afterwards, by standing on a large floating turf on a lake, so it could not be said she had set foot on human earth.

In a Chinese story called “The Painter”, from the 9th century bundle Wenqi lu, a learned man buys a screen with a painting of an inhumanly beautiful woman on it. The painter tells him of a ritual that might bring the woman to life and the man manages to call her to him. She steps out of the painting and consents to stay with him, they even have a son together. When the child is two years old, however, the man speaks with a friend of his, who immediately suspects the woman of being a dangerous creature and gives him a celestial weapon to kill her. As soon as he arrives home, his companion sobs that she is a mountain spirit who never asked to be painted by the painter and never asked to be called by him. She steps back into the painting, taking her child with her, leaving the man alone with a beautifully painted screen that now shows both her and the little boy.

this page has given me so many helpful writing tips ♡

Beginner writers often describe a character's attributes through what is essentially a list: "He had green eyes, dark hair, and a sharp jaw." This can be fluffed-up with more interesting and original descriptions: "Her eyes were dark and quiet, and suggested secrets he would never know of." But at the end of the day, this only serves to form a relationship between the character and the reader: what does a character look like and feel like to the reader?

To make description meaningful, it should impact the way a character is viewed by others and themselves. If a character wears glasses, others might assume they're smart or nerdy, even if they aren't. If a character used to be short as a child but no longer is, they might still see themselves as short and small even when they no longer are. In real life, our perceptions of others and ourselves, whether we like it or not, are affected by physical appearance and inevitably the assumptions or differences in treatment we make toward them. It's important to reflect that in your stories and characters.

should decorate this blog but i don’t know how to glam it up

please do more bad boy aone it was amazing

❥𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?? 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘺!𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 (✧︎﹃ ✧)

PATCH SIX UPDATE COMING NEXT WEEK - SPOILER BELOW

It is finally happening my fellow Astarion and BG3 lovers! The long-awaited new patch is on its way (probably arriving on Valentines day but this is not confirmed).

Larian confirmed new KISS ANIMATIONS will be coming as well as camp idle animations and multiple bug fixes!

Here's an example of one of the kiss animations involving Astarion and Halsin for all those #halstarion fans:

You can read Larian's Twitter/X post here.

Are you excited??

ᴋʏᴏʏᴀ ᴏᴏᴛᴏʀɪ ⛧ 鳳 鏡夜 ✧ (ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 22) ღ

               🅷🅰🅿🅿🆈 🅱🅸🆁🆃🅷🅳🅰🆈 🅺🆈🅾🆈🅰❣

Bestfriends| MHA X BlackFemReader

Hi Besties ! I was in a writing mood but, I didn't feel like messing with my current WIP because ✨procrastination✨, so here are some cute, maybe NSFW headcannons/scenarios about the boys reacting to their bestfriend(who they have a crush on) being at their place when they get home from a stressful day! This is literally my fingers moving faster than my brain, so bare with me if it's awful lol.

Warning NSFW (18+) Content| Viewer Discretion Advised

oral sex

fingering

foul language

mentions of blood

penetration (?) - idk, haven't written it yet.

Aged up/ ProHero characters

ProHero! Deku

You met when you transferred into the support course during your second year, he was always coming in to discuss changes in his costume design and the two of you just clicked. It went from casual greetings in the hallways to movie marathons on the weekends.

Whenever he'd go on school missions you'd hug him so tight, lecturing him to be careful. "I'll be fine, (n/n)" he'd blush, but he'd nuzzle against your neck before saying his final goodbyes.

Your protectiveness continued well into adulthood, when he was a full fledged Pro Hero. Always hovering and fussing over him, threatening to jump in if he was ever in trouble. He never complained about you babying him, though. He loved that you cared.

People found your dynamic hilarious, this big ole' man being lead around by little old you. Hanging on to your every word like a puppy. He was enamored with you, but for the sake of your friendship he never mentioned it.

Izuku was dead tired, the day had been brutal. He'd fought several villains, ended up in a hostage situation and fell off a roof. Blood and grit clung to his skin and hero costume. He was desperate to get to his hot shower and warm bed.

Walking through the door, he heard a random R&B song playing over the stereo and smelled fresh baked cookies. That could only mean one thing. She's home, he thought, smiling to himself as he made his way into the living room. Izuku had given you a spare key for emergency's but you honestly you used it whenever you were feeling bored. He didn't mind, he loved seeing you when he made it home.

"(Y/N). I'm home." he called out, kicking his shoes of near the couch. He started to worry when you didn't respond immediately but relaxed when he heard running water. Izuku trudged down the hallway, rolling his neck and stretching his sore muscles along the way. "Puppy. It's me." he knocked twice and cracked the door open, smiling when your bonnet covered head peaked through the frosted glass door.

"Oh my god, Izu! What the hell happened?" He chuckled to himself, not even five minutes into the house and he found himself on the receiving end of one of your lectures. "I had a rough day. Fucking tired." he groaned and you flinched at his words. Izuku rarely cursed, so he must be feeling pretty bad. "You almost done? I'm gross." he peeled off his hero costume, too exhausted to feel bashful. It's not like you've never seen him in his underwear before, you're his bestfriend.

"Friend" he mumbled, rolling his eyes. On days like this it was hard for him to hide his true feelings. All he wanted was to pull you into his arms and kiss the stress away. "I just got in but, I'll get out- "No, no. I'm gonna get in with you."

Before you could protest his was sliding the door open and pushing himself inside 🌚. "Izu!" you screeched, covering your breasts with your hands. It was counterproductive because it pushed them up nicely and gave him a nice view of your puffy cunt. Was she touching her self? he quirked a brow, but shook the thought off "I'm tired. I didn't want to wait anymore". That statement was pretty loaded considering the current situation and his feelings about your relationship. "Just this once, please" he pouted, handing you his sponge and body wash.

With a sigh, you took the items and began pampering your friend, being sure to nag him simultaneously. He couldn't care less, too caught up in the way your fingernails felt scratching his scalp or your soapy hands running across his skin. He didn't even realize you were crying until your voice broke.

"I know you can take care of yourself but, I still worry." you paused, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades and wrapping your arms around his torso. He hummed, rolling his head back and covering your hands with his own, it felt good being with you like this. Nothing could ruin this moment. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Izu. You're my bestfriend."

That did it.

In a flash he had you pinned against the shower wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. "Look at us right now, (Y/N). Is this what bestfriends feel like ?" You felt his tip slide through your folds, picking up the slick that had been accumulating since he'd first gotten in the shower. "i-Izu ?" you stammer, and he pulls back to watch your face as he teases your entrance. "I don't want to be friends anymore, puppy." Your mouth falls open when he starts to push in, splitting you open on his enormous ✨cock✨ and he takes this opportunity to pull you into a bruising kiss.

"We should be lovers instead."

ProHero! Red Riot

The two of you met in the drugstore one day when he was looking for hairdye. The store was out of his usual brand and he didn't know which one would be closest to Radiant Ruby. So he was staring at the boxes having an internal meltdown. Dark roots are not manly.

"Try Very Vermillion, the undertone is different but its the same shade. If you just touch up the roots you can barely tell the difference." Your soft voice caught his attention, and then your bright smile and similarly dyed hair. It was a deeper red than his and it went well with your (l/d) brown skin. "Thanks, cutie. I really appreciate it." he pulled down his shades and winked, enough to make most ladies swoon but you just smirked back. "No problem, Mr. Riot."

"How'd ya know it was me?" he asked, following you down the aisle. He was shocked, it seemed like a pretty good disguise when he left in the morning. "Kinda had to mistake a killer smile like that" you winked, and the blush that grew on his cheeks was enough to put Radiant Ruby out of business for good. "Can I get your name?" he asked, red eyes never leaving your figure as you checked out. He thought he was being stealthy but you noticed. "(Y/N). How about you get me lunch too?"

Henceforth, you were inseparable.

"Yo, Ei. Where's your twin?" Katsuki teased, referencing your similar hair color and the fact that you were always wearing his merch. He called you his "mini me", which is true since he's a freaking giant. "I'm on my way to her place now!" he beamed, "she promised to make me some American food!" He loved when you cooked for him. One of his favorite pass times was watching you move around the kitchen, whipping up different dishes for him to try. "Tch, you two idiots should just make it official already." Katsuki huffed, nudging his friend who was smiling at his phone. Probably because you'd sent him an "adorable" photo wearing some new merch you picked up. "Nah, she's way too good for me." he'd smile sadly, stuffing his phone, and his feelings, in his back pocket.

You were putting the brownies in the oven when you heard the front door open. "I'm in the kitchen, Red !" you called, eager to see his expression when he saw the spread that you'd prepared for him.

Pro Hero! Red Riot had won a major victory today after an intense battle with some huge villain downtown. It was all over the news. He smiled and waved at the cameras, because it was the manly thing to do, but you could see that he was wore out. You wanted to do something special, so you prepared all his favorite foods. Fried chicken, Cajun steak alfredo, meat buns, and brownies for dessert. The man could eat.

"Hey pebble. What are you- wow ! What's all this ?" he smiled brightly as he entered the kitchen, tossing his mask on the counter and reaching for a piece of chicken. "Aht Aht!" you smacked his hand with a wooden spoon, "wash your hands first. You're filthy". He pouted but complied.

"What's the special occasion?" he asked, watching you fix him a heaping plate of food.

"I saw your fight on the news. You did so good, big guy!" You pinched his flushed cheeks and gave a knowing smirk. Eijiro may seem overly confident but he's actually pretty insecure sometimes; you're constantly reassuring him, being sure to remind him how great he is and how lucky you are to have him. It was fun for you because you liked how giddy he'd get after a few compliments. His praise kink goes crazy.

"(Y/N)- , stopp" he whined, but made no real effort to escape your grasp. "Why would I? You're the best, Riot. So big, and strong and manly." His cheeks were super red now and chewing on his lip.

Loose strands of hair fell into his eyes and you brushed them behind his ear . "(Y/N)" he whispered, you were so close and your words had his heart racing. "So brave. So kind." The game you were playing faded away as you gazed up at him. "So pretty." Your fingers traced the lines of his face, his cheeks, his nose, his lips. "You're so pretty, Red."

His resolve snapped. Trapping you between his arms, he bent down and pressed your lips together. An explorative action, kind of testing the waters. He pulled back and rubbed his nose against yours.

"I think you're pretty too."

One thing led to another and now you're sprawled out on the kitchen counter while his thick tongue swirls around your swollen clit with two fingers in your cunt and his thumb in your asshole. When your pussy contracts around your digits and you cum screaming his name, he licks the slick off his fingers and goes back down for seconds.

The man loves to eat.

ProHero! Mindbreak

The two of you met when he came into your new coffee shop in downtown Tokyo.

"Just a large black coffee, extra sweet, with a squirt of chocolate" he sighed, placing his card on the counter and rubbing his eyes. He looked miserable so you decided to cheer him up, or at least try to. "Wow, are you ordering a drink or me?" you giggled, a sickeningly sweet bubbly sound. It made him want to puke. "I don't think I could stomach both." he deadpanned. Ouch.

Too stunned to speak, you walked off and busied yourself with his order. "Nice going, Hitoshi. You hurt the airhead's feelings." he mumbled to himself, watching you pout and chew at your lip. He thought you were kind of cute. At least if you were into chunky little bimbos, which he definitely was.

"Sorry about that" he said as you handed him the cup, "hero stuff". "S'Okay!" You giggled again and leaned forward against the counter, flashing him a nice view of your tits. What a little ditz he thought, eyeing you as he took a sip. "Oh wow" he blinked, "this is the best coffee I've ever had". The smile that you gave him was so bright, he almost regretting telling you. It was way too early for this. "Great!" you chirp. sliding his card back to him. "It's on the house. A small thank you keeping the city safe, Mr. Hero."

Now he was too stunned to speak. He wasn't used to people being so nice to him; most folks were intimated by his quirk or his resting bitch face. It didn't bother you though. He mumbled a "thanks" and headed towards the door. "Come back and see us now." Hitoshi raised his cup and nodded, he'd definitely be returning.

He came in the same time everyday, ready to be met with the aroma of coffee and your smiling face. It got to the point that you had it waiting for him before he even made it to the counter. If it wasn't busy, you'd sit at a small table chat; well you'd do most of the talking. Hitoshi would just sip his drink quietly and listen to you ramble on about whatever ditzy thoughts were swirling in your cute little head.

"I don't that's what it means, sweetheart." He'd smirk whenever you misunderstood something. He loved the little face you'd make when you were confused. Your nose would scrunch up and the dimples in your chubby cheeks would pop out. "But 'Toshi, he specifically said 'those buns look delicious' don't you think they look good?" you pouted, pointing towards the freshly baked pastries. The perv was clearly talking about the way your round ass jiggled in that cute little mini skirt when you reached for something high on the shelf, but you didn't need to know that. "They look amazing, sweetheart. I'll take two."

Nothing particularly bad happened during Hitoshi's shift. He was just fucking exhausted. He'd been working the night shift for the past three weeks with no off day. You'd seen how worn out his was so you stopped by his house sometimes to make sure he was taken care off himself. You knew he kept a spare key above his doorframe, so you just let yourself in.

"Welcome home, Toshi !" you greeted him at the door wearing nothing but one of his muscle shirts. What in the actual fuck? "My clothes got wet when I was cleaning so I just grabbed one of your shirts while they dry. I hope you don't mind." Why would he mind when you were wearing the smallest shirt he owned and it fit your soft curves perfectly. You weren't even wearing a bra, round tits spilling out the sides whenever you moved your arms. And did you say you cleaned? He looked around and the place was spotless, hell you even fed his cat. Could you be anymore perfect?

"Thank you, sweetheart" He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing his body against yours and nuzzling against your neck. You always smelled so good. Like coffee and chocolate. "Thanks for what?" you giggled as you rubbed his back. "For everything" he mumbled and you scoffed, "I'd do anything for you, Toshi. It's no big deal." Hitoshi pulled back and looked down at you, "Anything?".

"Of course I would. I love you, silly."

"C'mere", Hitoshi picked you up and laid you on the couch, you were startled and confusion and you watched him curiously when he laid on top of you and pushed his face between your boobs. "I love you, too" he murmured, pulling the fabric to the side with his teeth and popping your nipple into his mouth.

"T-toshi!" you gasped, grinding up against him but he held your hips down. He flicked his tongue against the bud and pulled off with a *pop*, "You'd do anything for me, right?" One finger swirled around your nipple, while the other slid up your thigh and onto you clothed pussy. "Y-yes" you whimpered, taking a shaky breath when his finger snaked under your lacy panties and into your waiting cunt.

"Be mines."

Nastygirls| @xogabbiexo, @thicksimpx, @plussizeficchick, @namjoonswifeyy, @tenyaiidasslut, @po3ticb3auty, @kaizokuluv, @angwritez, @presidentmonica, @indiecursor, @arielspoem, @xosuki, @dejwrites @gabzlovesu

writing fan fictions takes a special kind of creativity

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

His question hit like a punch, and the pressure of it lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. Armed Forces Day? Three years ago? A sharp jolt of recognition hit you, though the details of that night remained fuzzy. The memories were there, but they felt distant—like something you hadn't allowed yourself to fully remember after becoming a mother. 

You steadied yourself, trying to mask the unease rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?” you tried to sound steady but the tightening grip on your purse betrayed the rush of nerves running through you.

Simon shifted, his broad frame nearly eclipsing the dim light of the bar. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle in his own head, as though each word carried a burden too heavy to bear. “There was a night,” he began, his tone low and rough, every syllable deliberate. “Here. Three years ago. You were here. So was I.”

Your heart skipped, a wave of realization hitting with an almost physical force. The hazy recollections of that night flooded back, slowly accumulating together—laughter, drinks, an unexpected connection. Something that hadn’t felt planned but had burned far too bright to ignore.

The knot in your stomach twisted painfully, every part of you urging you to push it away, but the truth had already begun to sink in. “You’re…” The words stalled in your throat, heavy and lodged, the sentence unfinished as the reality stung like an accusation between you.

Simon exhaled sharply, part sigh, part laugh—but there was no humor in it. His gaze locked onto yours with unsettling intensity, and for a moment, it felt like he was waiting for you to break. “Yeah,” he replied simply, the word thick with certainty. “And she’s mine, isn’t she?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine, your body instinctively stiffening. The truth strung in the silence between you both, too glaring to avoid. Heart racing, every sense screamed to deny it, to distance yourself from this conversation before it spiraled out of control. But anything that could be said felt wrong, heavy on your tongue as you forced them out: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Simon’s eyes held yours, filled with something you hadn’t seen before—a desperation that cut through his usually composed demeanor. “Please,” he urged, the plea more potent. “Just tell me.”

How could this be happening? How could something so raw, so unspoken, suddenly spill into the air between the two of you? The weight of the moment anchored you, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a way to move past it. 

“She is,” you muttered at last, the confession slipping out like an unwanted secret. Fingers clenched tightly against the table’s edge, grounding yourself against the suffocating reality pressing in. “I never thought… never thought you'd come back into the picture.”

A brief silence stretched out before you spoke again, everything tumbling out in a rush. "I didn’t even know your name. All I recall was you kept making me." The admission hung in the air, lighter than it was, an attempt to lighten everything you didn’t want to say. 

The memory refused to stay buried. His face from that night, the intensity of his stare under the bar’s muted glow, how his presence seemed magnetic and overwhelming all at once—it all surfaced, unbidden. The connection had been undeniable, but that was your secret to carry. He didn’t need to know the details you still clung to.. 

“I don’t even know how it happened,” The sentence barely made it past your lips. “We used protection.” Doubt crept into your mind, unraveling the careful narrative you’d built for yourself. Did we? The past, fogged by alcohol and blurred moments, refused to come into focus.

Simon blinked, the blankness in his expression giving way to confusion, then disbelief. “Did we?” he asked with an edge of uncertainty. He was searching for answers neither of you seemed able to provide. Silence filled the space between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

"That parts a bit fuzzy," you admitted quietly, thoughts drifting away, the edges of the remembrance blurring with every passing second. “And clearly we didn't given our current situation.” 

Meeting his gaze, you knew this was the man from that fortunate night. Only different. More mature as if life hadn’t been kind to him. “All I know is… I woke up, and it was just me.” The recollection hung heavier than expected, twisting in your chest. "I never imagined I’d run into you again."

A heavy silence settled between the two of you, the gravity of everything left unsaid pressing down on the air. Neither of you knew how to move forward, or even if moving forward was possible.

“I knew she was mine,” Simon muttered, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He looked like he was trying to hold something back, fighting against his own emotions threatening to break free.

You blinked in disbelief, the reality of his revelation settling in like ice in your veins. “You saw her?” The shock was evident. The idea that he had been so close—watching, perhaps even knowing—yet remained silent was almost too much to process.

Simon nodded, his gaze never meeting yours as he began. “Last month. When you were leaving the café with her. Johnny stopped you, and I was there.” He hesitated, swallowing hard as if the bulk of it all was pressing on him. “Johnny and the lads, they were the first to say they saw a little girl with my face. I was skeptical at first But then… then I saw the two of you together. And I saw it. Saw me in her. I had no idea she was even a possibility. Or that you were, for that matter."

Your breath hitched, a sharp sting rising in your chest. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface, the hurt, and the confusion all collided in one sudden wave. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The question shot out before you could stop it, the accusation sharp and loaded with all the frustration. He had been so close. Watching. Why didn’t he speak up?

Simon paused, his gaze dropping to his hands, fingers flexing as if he were trying to grasp for something he couldn’t hold. The silence stretched long between you, the tension palpable, as if the room itself was holding its breath. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came. 

“I…” He started, staring at his hands as though they might hold the answer. “I’m not good with things like this, love.” He rubbed the back of his neck, having a hard time fully expressing how he felt but this moment needed authenticity. “I needed time to figure out if I could step into a life that was already doing fine without me. I was afraid of complicating things, of ruining something that was just fine without me."

You didn’t expect what he said to hit you so hard. The impact of his confession—that he had stayed away because he wasn’t sure if he was fit to be a part of your life, Adira’s life—settled deep within you, heavier than you could have imagined. You’d been fine, hadn’t you? Raising Adira, carving out a life on your own. But there's always been that lingering voice in the back of your mind, that small, quiet thought of “what if?” What if things had been different? What if he had been there from the start? Maybe you wouldn’t have had to quit those overpriced mommy-and-me classes because of those judgmental women who gossiped behind your back. Maybe things would’ve been easier.

“I wasn’t about to just waltz in, love,” Simon’s voice softened, more vulnerable now, like he was carefully weighing his thoughts. “I needed to know if you’d even want me here. You and her…” His gaze darkened for a moment, his voice trailing off as though unable to bear too much out in the open. “I wasn’t sure if I was the right person to step into something already so… perfect.”

In those words, there was something you hadn’t expected to hear from him: honesty. He was afraid. Afraid of being the one to ruin what you had built. Afraid of not being enough for you or for Adira.

“I guess I understand,” you said quietly. "I just wish you showed up sooner."

Simon didn’t answer right away. Something within him flickered with guilt, and for a moment, you both stood there in silence. He glanced down at his hands, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out, but wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

"Can I meet her?" Simon asked nervously, a grown man fidgeting in his seat, the weight of his request sinking in.

"Now?" You chuckled, trying to brighten the moment. "It's late. I'm sure she's already asleep."

Simon’s gaze flickered with hesitation, but the desire was clear. He was barely holding it together, as if afraid that the chance to meet his daughter would slip away if he didn’t ask now. 

"I understand," he mumbles after a pause, almost to himself, but there was a longing there you couldn’t ignore. "I just…I need to see her. To know her. Even if just for a moment."

The magnitude of the situation pressed down on you again, this wasn’t something you had expected when you woke up this morning. You had no clue what to do with all of this, with him, with Adira’s future—your future. But still, you could hear his sincerity.

"Tomorrow," You decided. "We can meet up tomorrow, but it has to be on her terms. She's not exactly the warmest with new people."

Simon nodded, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "I can wait."

You gave him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment of the moment. There was still so much to figure out, but at least now, for the first time, there was a possibility. A chance to rebuild what had been lost. "Bring toys," you suggested sincerely, thinking about what would make her happy. "She likes trains. Doesn’t need to be anything cartoon-ish, just a proper train."

Simon blinked, a touch of confusion in his gaze. "She doesn't like dolls? Like most girls?" His tone had a hint of disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite picture a little girl who wasn’t into the typical, pink frilly things.

The thought of dolls made your stomach tighten, and you shook your head vehemently, as if to expel the very idea. "God, no," you replied, unease creeping into the conversation. "Please, don’t bring dolls. That’s the last thing I want." You shuddered as you spoke, recalling all the unnerving memories. "She gets all Sid from Toy Story with them."

Simon’s brow furrowed even deeper, clearly unsure. "What does that mean?"

You visibly grimaced, the image flashing vividly in your mind. "It means I wake up to doll heads scattered all over the place," you say, your voice low and serious. "And it's... creepy. Like she's planning something with them. It’s like waking up in a horror movie."

Simon chuckled at first, but as he saw the unflinching seriousness in your expression, his laughter quickly turned uncertain. His grin faded, and the unease that filled his eyes told you that he was realizing this wasn’t some joke. "You’re messing with me, right?"

Your stare at him, completely deadpan. "I wish I was."

For a moment, Simon just stared, taking in your unwavering expression. His lips parted, a nervous laugh escaping him as he absorbed warning. "Alright," he said slowly, now understanding your cautious warning. "No dolls. Trains. Got it."

You gave a relieved sigh, feeling the baggage lift off your shoulders. The tension hadn’t fully gone, but for now, at least the toy issue was settled. There were plenty of bigger things to confront later, but this? This was a small victory.

This one is a little shorter than the rest, simply because I want the meet up chapter to be really long for yall! :3

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