Emile/Em (I used to go by June/Juniper). 25 y/o. Witch, gay, demi She/They I'm also best friends with the amazingly talented cillpiines.tumblr.com đ Icon by @annicon. Header image by @dramaticallydepressed PLEASE UNFOLLOW IF YOU SUPPORT: Trump, all lives matter, terfs, transmeds, truscums, pedophilia/MAPs, or any LGBT+ phobia
63! Days! Until I move out of the same town that my emotionally abusive mother lives in! Then I'll be in a two bedroom apartment AND be just down the road from work AND be able to legally have all my animals!
You know, I didn't get to move when I wanted to. But it turned out for the better. I'm in a one bedroom, cozy little apartment. I can have all my animals, I'm closer to my job than I would have been in the other apartment, and the place just feels like home. It's where I'm meant to be. This is a much better "Christmas". Better than I could have ever dreamed.
#iâm not embarrassed but#i hate the thought of having to guard what i love#and defend any of my interests to others#people are the worst i donât want them to know me
63! Days! Until I move out of the same town that my emotionally abusive mother lives in! Then I'll be in a two bedroom apartment AND be just down the road from work AND be able to legally have all my animals!
63! Days! Until I move out of the same town that my emotionally abusive mother lives in! Then I'll be in a two bedroom apartment AND be just down the road from work AND be able to legally have all my animals!
Nothing like being anxious all afternoon, then your mother calls you out of nowhere and you don't answer because your phone was on silent, then you text her that you're at an appointment and ask what's wrong, then she doesn't reply and now you have to stay away from your apartment for a little while because you're paranoid that your mom will drive by your apartment to see if you're there.
So you sit in a busy parking lot where you know she won't show up waiting a reasonable amount of time so you can go home "after your appointment"
Sun could still hear your words ringing around in his head.Â
âWeâll have lots of time together tomorrow, too.âÂ
Youâd promised. You had promised Sun that you would come back for that slumber party. For him and Moon.Â
Moon. Sun was so worried about his lunar counterpart. Since youâd left, Moon had gotten... scary. He was so angry and hurt. Sun tried his best, but Moon was getting harder to reason with every day.Â
Management was even talking about canceling naptimes.Â
Today had been another busy day. More kids than Sun could easily handle, more messes than he could clean by himself. But that was okay! He was still trying his very hardest. And it wasnât like he couldnât clean after hours, between patrols. Even if it meant skimping his charge a little bit. It wasnât like he really needed to run all those background programs.Â
Although, he had to be a LITTLE cautious. The last thing he wanted was to end up back in Parts and Service with Carlos. Sun had never imagined himself capable of disliking a person, but Carlos had managed to find a way.Â
Humming softly, Sun moved to and fro. Picking up toys. Scraping gum and glitter glue off of surfaces. Sweeping up scraps of paper and candy wrappers. Tossing dirty blankets and pillows down the laundry chute.Â
Only the constant loop of the daycareâs jaunty tune and the ring of his own bells filled the silence. Sun tried to make the work more interesting by juggling toys and balancing as many stray balls as he could on the tips of his toes.Â
He couldnât help but wonder where youâd gone. What were you doing right now? Were you eating well? Sleeping? Did you think about them? Did you dream about them?Â
Sun hoped you would come back soon. He just knew things would be all better once you were back. Moon would be better. Things would be just like before.
When Sun turned to continue cleaning, he realized he was already done. He stood for several seconds, searching the daycare for the slightest hint of mess. But heâd left no mat unturned.Â
Sighing softly, Sun called his wire down.Â
Perhaps he could do some crafts. Or read that book youâd left behind. What did it matter that heâd already finished it a dozen times? A bakerâs dozen could be lucky!Â
Still, as his feet touched down on the balcony, he couldnât find the motivation to do... anything. He quietly entered the little storage space youâd designated their room. His eyes roved over the mass of pillows and blankets youâd dragged up there to make Sun and Moon a âbedâ.Â
A sad smile spread across his face.Â
You were coming back. You had to be. You cared about them enough to make them a space. You lent them books and told them about your life and called them âfriendâ.Â
You wouldnât just leave them behind after all that.Â
Right?
Sinking into his little nest, Sun dug between the pillows a moment. After searching, he discovered your sweater buried beneath everything else. Moon had been the one to find it, a few days after you had stopped coming in for work.Â
Trembling yellow digits traced the tears in the fabric. Moon hadnât meant it. He was just so distraught.Â
Sun had read somewhere once that humans liked to share clothing from time to time. So they could bask in the comfort of one anotherâs scent when one was gone.Â
But Sun wasnât human. And he had no sense of smell. No way to derive comfort from the smell of you on things youâd left behind.Â
Still. He pulled the sweater in close and tried to imagine.Â
Sun imagined he could feel your warmth in his arms again. Hear your laugh echo through his auditory receptors. See you smile bright.Â
You would come back.Â
And until then, he would hold onto your things and he would keep them safe.Â
"do robots dream?" you ask quietly one day in the gentle darkness of the daycare. the lights are out for naptime, and the air is filled with intermittent soft snores of the toddlers curled up cozily in their blankets.
moon looks over at you from his position squatted atop the security deskâsurveilling the kids from the small height. his ruby red eyes alight the air between you in a tender glow. there's a moment of silence after your words, as though he is contemplating his answer.
"no," he eventually rasps out and turns his head back around to the bundles of blankets and pillows he's in charge of. a steady lullaby chimes out from within his chassis and it makes the ambience of the daycare more soothing than it usually is when the lights are on.
you hum and spin yourself idly around on the security desk's chair. "but if you could," you start as you stare up at the ceiling dotted with faint glow-in-the-dark stars, "what would you dream of?"
moon doesn't respond to you for a long time. you listen to his little lullaby and feel sleep brush warmly against your eyelids. it gets to the point where you wonder if he just doesn't feel like answering youâindulging you. not that you'd blame him. and just when you're about to change topics, maybe laugh off your inquisitive questions, he starts to speak in a low, low voice.
"we would dream of the sky," he says as he looks up at the daycare's ceiling. the small lights that dot it are in no way on par with the night sky you have the privilege of seeing every day. something aches in your chest at the distant longing in his gaze. "we would dream of the stars and the moon and the sun. we would dream of the sea. we would dream of an endless field of flowers."
you listen along as he speaksâperhaps airing out something that had been weighing upon him for who-knows-how-long. it makes you ruminate deeply, causes your toes to curl within your shoes and your heart to beat solemnly.
"we would..." he suddenly trails off, and you don't notice when his gaze flicks over to you for a brief moment, too caught up in spinning yourself around and around and around. he makes a soft sound like he's clearing his throat, then says no more. you do not push or press him, your mind lost in thought about a small daycare tucked in a desolate corner of the world. where the robot within looks up at a concrete ceiling and sees nothing beyond it.
we would dream of a house, with us and you, moon thinks but does not say. his eyes close as though he can picture it right before him. we would dream of late nights and early mornings. we would dream of a time where we could be with you and only you.
but that is only a dream, he sighs and reopens his eyes to continue his meticulous scanning of the children. the lullaby continues to chime away.
I think people voting celery simply have not done enough cooking to understand the heavy lifting that celery does in soups. Itâs subtle but itâs so so so important to the flavor.
