Some things are not meant to last. Pure Vanilla knows that. He has always known that. And yet-when offered something fragile, something uncertain, something that should never have worked in the first place... he finds himself reaching for it anyway. It begins simply enough. A conversation. A choice. A quiet agreement between two unlikely sides. From there, it becomes something more. Something softer. Something steady. Something that begins to feel... real. There is comfort in that. In routine. In familiarity. In the quiet assurance that, for once, things can remain unchanged. And when something is repeated enough-given time, patience, and just the right amount of hope-it's easy to believe in it. Easy to settle into it. Easy to forget that it was never meant to last at all. ... Maybe then it doesn't fall apart all at once.

This was originally made just for the poops and giggles but soon got more serious, essentially shadowmilk(you) is living in the woods in a cabin with IT in his attic. He takes care of IT and is blamed by all the beasts for silent salts disappearance... Where is silent salt? What's IT? read and find out