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yo what didi comebackto“The Fire and the Fern”
The battlefield was quiet now — too quiet for Quokka’s liking. The wind still carried traces of smoke, and in the fading light, ash clung to the air like ghosts refusing to leave.
Lolcti stood a few metres away, blood on her cheek, chin lifted in that maddening way she always had. Even bruised, even furious, she was unbearable — and impossibly captivating.
“You always have to win, don’t you?” she hissed, voice trembling between rage and something softer.
Quokka stepped closer, the heavy echo of boots on scorched stone filling the silence. “Winning’s easy,” he said, his tone low and even. “It’s not losing to you that’s hard.”
Her eyes flickered, uncertain. “You think everything’s a game.”
“And you think I don’t notice when you look at me like that,” Quokka murmured, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous.
Lolcti’s breath caught. “Like what?”
“Like you’re daring me to come closer.”
The wind shifted between them, carrying the scent of smoke and salt. For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The distance between them was a thread — fragile, stretched, and trembling.
Quokka reached out, brushing his thumb across the streak of dirt on her jaw. “You drive me insane,” he said softly. “You make me want peace and chaos at the same time.”
Lolcti’s reply came as a whisper. “Then maybe you finally understand what you’ve done to me.”
For once, there was no battle left to fight — only the quiet, dangerous rhythm of two hearts that had spent too long pretending to be enemies when they were really mirrors.
The war between them didn’t end that night.
But for the first time, neither of them wanted it to
This is the worst thing I’ve ever read kill me“The Fire and the Fern”
The battlefield was quiet now — too quiet for Quokka’s liking. The wind still carried traces of smoke, and in the fading light, ash clung to the air like ghosts refusing to leave.
Lolcti stood a few metres away, blood on her cheek, chin lifted in that maddening way she always had. Even bruised, even furious, she was unbearable — and impossibly captivating.
“You always have to win, don’t you?” she hissed, voice trembling between rage and something softer.
Quokka stepped closer, the heavy echo of boots on scorched stone filling the silence. “Winning’s easy,” he said, his tone low and even. “It’s not losing to you that’s hard.”
Her eyes flickered, uncertain. “You think everything’s a game.”
“And you think I don’t notice when you look at me like that,” Quokka murmured, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous.
Lolcti’s breath caught. “Like what?”
“Like you’re daring me to come closer.”
The wind shifted between them, carrying the scent of smoke and salt. For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The distance between them was a thread — fragile, stretched, and trembling.
Quokka reached out, brushing his thumb across the streak of dirt on her jaw. “You drive me insane,” he said softly. “You make me want peace and chaos at the same time.”
Lolcti’s reply came as a whisper. “Then maybe you finally understand what you’ve done to me.”
For once, there was no battle left to fight — only the quiet, dangerous rhythm of two hearts that had spent too long pretending to be enemies when they were really mirrors.
The war between them didn’t end that night.
But for the first time, neither of them wanted it to
better than colleen hoover iclThis is the worst thing I’ve ever read kill me
Hey Quokka,“The Fire and the Fern”
The battlefield was quiet now — too quiet for Quokka’s liking. The wind still carried traces of smoke, and in the fading light, ash clung to the air like ghosts refusing to leave.
Lolcti stood a few metres away, blood on her cheek, chin lifted in that maddening way she always had. Even bruised, even furious, she was unbearable — and impossibly captivating.
“You always have to win, don’t you?” she hissed, voice trembling between rage and something softer.
Quokka stepped closer, the heavy echo of boots on scorched stone filling the silence. “Winning’s easy,” he said, his tone low and even. “It’s not losing to you that’s hard.”
Her eyes flickered, uncertain. “You think everything’s a game.”
“And you think I don’t notice when you look at me like that,” Quokka murmured, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous.
Lolcti’s breath caught. “Like what?”
“Like you’re daring me to come closer.”
The wind shifted between them, carrying the scent of smoke and salt. For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The distance between them was a thread — fragile, stretched, and trembling.
Quokka reached out, brushing his thumb across the streak of dirt on her jaw. “You drive me insane,” he said softly. “You make me want peace and chaos at the same time.”
Lolcti’s reply came as a whisper. “Then maybe you finally understand what you’ve done to me.”
For once, there was no battle left to fight — only the quiet, dangerous rhythm of two hearts that had spent too long pretending to be enemies when they were really mirrors.
The war between them didn’t end that night.
But for the first time, neither of them wanted it to
haaland isnt fineHey Quokka,
I need to say this with all due respect — and maybe a touch of dramatic flair — but I can’t continue this. After enduring my tragic heartbreak era last year (the kind that had me listening to sad playlists like it was a full-time job), I’ve finally found peace… and, coincidentally, a 6’2 fine, magnificent specimen who has me rethinking the definition of “perfection.”
I know you’ve got passion, and trust me, that’s cute — but passion alone can’t compete with height, jawlines, and emotional stability. I’ve moved on from chaos to calm, from heartbreak to healing, and from “maybe” to “oh absolutely.” It’s not you, it’s just that my standards have evolved, my delusion has matured, and my heart’s now reserved for taller matters.
So this is my formal resignation from any potential situationship. I wish you nothing but the best — truly. May your future be filled with girls who haven’t yet met their 6’2 redemption arc.
Sincerely,
A woman reborn, healed, and thriving![]()
brother my man my slime i literally said i was using chagpti wanted people to beat each other up not write letters. grown ass people writing letters come on mane
The way people act like I’m single is actually wildhaaland isnt fine
if ur finding any part of him fine u find him fineThe way people act like I’m single is actually wildlike sorry I don’t need to post a PowerPoint presentation of my man for validation. He’s 6’2, fine as hell, and yes, he exists — not imaginary, not AI-generated, and definitely not available for public viewing
also fuck no haaland is not fine put a bag over it
This whole message sounds AI generatedThe way people act like I’m single is actually wildlike sorry I don’t need to post a PowerPoint presentation of my man for validation. He’s 6’2, fine as hell, and yes, he exists — not imaginary, not AI-generated, and definitely not available for public viewing
also fuck no haaland is not fine put a bag over it
I'll do one better:if ur finding any part of him fine u find him fine
Quokka looked at her for a long moment before speaking, his voice low but steady.
“Go ahead, Lolcti. Find someone better than me.”
He took a step closer, the words sharper now.
“Find someone who knows the way you twist your hands when you’re trying not to cry. Someone who can handle the way you fight, the way you love, the way you burn everything you touch just to see who stays.”
His jaw tightened. “Find someone who keeps up with you when you’re impossible. Who doesn’t flinch when you’re angry, or walk away when you’re quiet.”
He let out a humourless laugh. “You won’t find them, Lolcti. You’ll find someone easier. Someone who doesn’t make you feel everything all at once. Someone safe, someone forgettable.”
Then his voice softened, almost breaking.
“But not better. Never better.”
