#Finding Natalie: Chapter 1 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

happysparklingshadows · 5 months ago

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A Certain Hunger (5/?)

Chapter 4 ✿ Chapter 6

Summary: Just a random few days in the first Summer in the wilderness. (Y/n) explore her surroundings and the people around her in the wilderness to find some sense of control and agency. She is blossoming. Adult (Y/n) gets an unexpected visitor late at night and has deep thoughts about the right move going forward. She also needs to get ready for a romance novel convention, but she just can't catch a break from her pine-scented memories.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x fem!reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Gore, Mentions of Starving, Mentions of weight, Mentions of Chronic Pain and Injury, the 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Coming out of the closet, Mentions of sex and voyeurism, Mentions of Cheating, Mentions of menstrual cycle, Stalking.

Word count: 16.7k

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEARS! Back in action with my monthly uploads, and I am so happy to have my first headcanon chapter that doesn't follow an episode of the show, I hope I can add about three in the first and second season that shows things more about the reader and her experience out in the wilderness when there was still a lot of hope. I even did a poll for the readers of this story to have a voice in the direction of this arc for the reader. If you have any questions or thoughts about this story, please let me know in my inbox, and if you have any requests, I would love to hear what you all think and want from the story. The three days that I focus on in this chapter are July 7-10,1996, during their time in the wilderness, and I plan on making a timeline written for anyone really into the story!

Day 1

The hard ground under you was comfortable enough to sleep on, and maybe enough blankets and exhaustion made it the most comfortable place in the cabin. Your pillow's plush, fuzzy fabric snuggled against your cheek as you slept deeply. The pain in your neck rested just right as you folded your arm under your pillow. Your blanket was warm.

A hollow growl rumbles in your stomach again as you rest.

You have skipped another meal last night. Making it the third meal of the day you have skipped for the others.

The months have been getting to you.

You didn’t think you could avoid hunger, but you didn’t think your stomach would hurt this much. It felt hollow and sore, but you were mostly fine and had the same energy. You haven’t been getting as much fish as you did your first time fishing, but it was enough for almost everyone. You decided to go without for the past four days to help everyone ration out the food. Lately, you would catch about three fish daily, around 1 pound each for 16 people. It was spreading thin on the days when Natalie didn’t catch any animals, but you were content with it sometimes.

You had two advantages over everyone else in the woods: you had wilderness survival, and you were overweight. It will take longer for you to suffer from starvation, and if you skip your meal, that just means everyone gets a little more. You didn’t mind it, but everyone else seemed not to like it; not even the boys wanted you to go without unless you simply put your food on the table and walked outside if you thought the portions too small for everyone. You would just say you could handle it, and if you had a negative calorie intake, it wouldn’t be as harmful as it would be if Jackie or Larua Lee skipped. Sometimes Van, Shauna, Lottie, or even Travis, to your great surprise, skipped with you for everyone else to have more. It was those days when there was a whispering dread in your ear, making you think too far ahead for your liking. You didn’t like to think about the nights becoming colder and the food slowly disappearing, and only having food that you saved, which would be nothing as things were going.

You worked your anxiety away as much as possible with the fishing and projects around the cabin, so you didn't think about it too much. You still hoped to be saved and didn’t want to think about the colder months unless you had to.

A soft hand lands on your shoulder and gently pushes you back a few times until your eyes creep open, “Hey, get up.” Natalie’s soft voice comes to your ears as you slowly get up.

“Wha- what's wrong?” You yawn as you sit up, your hands pushing the wooden floor. You wore your blue and pink striped lattice hem set your mom got you for your trip to Seattle. As you were sitting up, your shoulder peeked out of the top. Your clothes were slowly becoming bigger on you, and you couldn’t find it inside yourself to complain; you had wanted to be a couple of sizes smaller, but this wasn’t how you thought you would lose the extra weight. A thin layer of salty sweat lines your face and neck, feeling every small move with a sticky sensation tickling your flesh. The morning of July was as unforgiving as the day. You pray there will be rain today so you can get a break from the beating sun.

“Nothing. I got some food,” Natalie said with a smile as she looked over your face. She was most worried about you not eating the last few days.

“Really!?” You say as you quickly start to get off your makeshift bed from the floor. You try to pull yourself off the floor like you usually do, but your left arm gives out from under you, causing you to light thump back onto the floor, and a sharp stab stocks you through your stiff neck.

“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, concerned, as she takes your hand, pulling you to stand with her. Her eyes are concerned and worried at your inability to lift yourself. Seeing the biggest girl in the group fall apart wasn't a pleasant feeling because she wasn’t getting enough calories.

You chuckle as you place your hand on her shoulder as she helps you stand up. Your cheeks become hotter as she holds you up. When you are on solid ground, you softly push her off you and say, “Sorry. I was pretty tired yesterday. I don’t know why; I was just in the heat, I think.”

“I could tell; you slept like a damn rock yesterday after I got back from hunting. You good?”

“Yeah,” you say with a little sigh of exhaustion, but you smile at her nonetheless. ”It must have been jet lag, " you joke as you run a hand through your hair. You find a greasy curl in your bangs that stood up the whole conversation with Natalie. You try to hide your cringe at the feeling of your own bad hygiene. After two weeks in the wilderness, most of the body smelled sensitivities left everyone after the deodorant ran out.

“Looks like your prayers have been answered ‘cause I got us some rabbits.” Natalie chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck and looked at you.

You don’t notice how her eyes seem to study your movements, “The rabbit traps finally worked?”

“Yep, we caught four rabbits this morning, but one was lost. Something got to it before we got up.”’

“A wolf?”

“Maybe. But there was just a foot left behind.” Natalie shrugged her shoulders with an amused smile like she was going to laugh.

“Did you keep it? It’s good luck. Maybe Lottie would have liked it.” You say with a little chuckle at Natalie’s face, and you just turn your head away. You felt your cheeks getting warm talking to her. Before the crash, Natalie was flirty with you, but now she seems more serious. She only talks about food and how people feel, but you always feel like she has a special interest in how you feel. Your stomach growled last night, and she gave you strong looks from the corner of the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be eatin’ good today.” Natalie jokes as she crosses her arms, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, the second half of the first floor. She seems to be waiting for you to follow her to the hearth where Mari and Laura Lee are cooking the food, and the smells of meat cooking fill the whole cabin. It was making your stomach growl.

“Good. I will eat until I am sick if I can." you say as you finally move to look for clothes for the hot day. Natalie's steel-blue eyes lock as you move to your bags on the opposite side of the small room. You thoughtlessly take off your pajama shirt and expose your bare torso.

Now, after months in the wilderness, you have grown comfortable with your body being seen by others. It didn’t help that you all changed in the locker room together before the crash, but since there was nowhere you could go without peeking eyes, you have grown accustomed to just exposing yourself to change. Even if the boys were in the room, you didn’t even think about it even more because there are a lot of tits out here in these woods. Yours couldn’t be the only ones their eye see in the morning when everyone changes.

It was a little different this time, and you felt Natalie’s eyes on you, tracing your back as you looked down at your pile of clothes in your luggage bag. You could hear Misty and Krystal quiet in their conversation as you move quickly to find a shirt; your chest softly jiggles for everyone in the room to see. You find a thin pink shirt and a Harley-Davidson shirt your dad gave you that you made into a crop top. You tell Natalie to break the loud silence, “Did you find the rest of the pop tabs?”

“What?”

“Wha-” You say as you throw a sports bra on yourself, “Pop tabs, Nat.”

“Oh, yeah.” She says, quickly pushing her hand into her black jeans pocket and pulling out a couple of old pop tabs from the crash site. “These were the only ones I could find in good enough condition.”

You throw the pink long sleeve over your head as you take the pop tabs in your hands and push them into your bag. “Thank you, Nat! I needed a few more to improve my net,” you say as you pull the crop top over your head.

“What do you use pop tabs for again?” she asks with a chuckle. Her smile lingers on her lips, making you feel light in your stomach.

“Hooks, " you crock out to her as you start straightening your hair as best you can with your fingers. “Just bend them back and forth at an angle, and they're makeshift hooks.”

“Sick.” She says as she leans away from the doorway. She leans away for you to walk into the second living space.

“Good morning!” “Morning!” “Hey, (y/n)!” was sent your way as you walked into the room. You smiled and waved back to everyone as you sat down at the table. Everyone had a pile of rabbit meat on their plates, but yours was slightly larger, with berries and the last of the fish jerky on your plate.

“Guys!” you say as you look at your plate, worried everyone didn’t get enough food. But you are shut down by looks.

“Stop it; it's yours,” Jackie says, smiling. She then leans her shoulder towards you playfully.

“Yeah, please. We all thought it would be nice for you to have a big breakfast after skipping the last few nights,” Shauna says as she chews on some dark meat.

“But, guys-” you try, but your stomach growls as you look at the freshly cooked meat.

“Just shut up and take your present,” Van says with a playful glare and shakes her head. Everyone laughs as you try again to make them take some of your portion.

You eventually succumb to your urge to eat the meat. You sink your fork into the meat and shovel the dark meat into your mouth.

You feel the strands of muscle on the rabbit leg you bit. You feel the juices of the fat in its body flush out of the strands as you chew on it more. You savor the gamey and wild flavor of the rabbit’s meat. You just moan as you keep eating everything on your plate. There was a click in the back of your throat as you ate. Your jaw healed weirdly after the crash, making you hear the tiny clicks as you swallow.

You rub the back of your sweaty neck, and every step you take holds a tiny stab of discomfort at the base of your neck. It’s been two months and three weeks in the wilderness, and most of your wounds from the crash have healed beautifully. Your black eyes, busted lip, and burns healed within the first week, and the more significant wounds on your legs and neck seemed to take longer than expected. Misty said your leg took a little longer to heal than the other wounds, but it was because it was on the lower part of your body, and you believed her. But your neck has yet to feel the same. You know you should have had a brace on it, but you couldn’t find anything to make one without leaving someone without. You hoped that you would be saved before it became a problem. Luckily, it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, but it felt like you constantly slept wrong on your head, having a stiff neck for the rest of the day. You have been messaging your neck as much as you could as you felt it becomes sharply painful, but you have made it a habit in the week of walking in these woods for hours.

In another circumstance, these walks in the woods to the lake would have been therapeutic. The sun's rays peek through the branches and kiss the ground with light. The greenery completely consumes the environment, and with such natural beauty, sometimes you stand still, looking up at the tall trees. As you walk down the trail, you look up at the tall branches of the trees. At this point, it becomes almost muscle memory for you as you slowly approach the beach.

You decided after breakfast to take a bath and clean the grease out of your hair and the thin film of sweat on your skin. You felt uncomfortable in your skin on a hot day out in the Canadian sun, and knowing your day would be spent sitting under the sun fishing, you felt like it was just time to wash and use some of your soap rations and lotion. You hold your toiletries bag, a new pair of underwear, and a towel in your hands as you stand on the end of the grass to the beginnings of the sand, but you stand in place as you look down the lake.

There standing alone was Lottie in her nightgown, looking absentmindedly out to the sky, almost like she was trying to piece something together being written in the blue.

You notice her absence at breakfast, and the last few breakfasts, she has been gone, and you always find her at the water, just staring out into space. It worried you, but you knew there was nothing you could do for the time being. The only thing you could do is be there for your friend. You didn’t need her to tell you to notice that there was a mental health issue underlining Lottie’s behaviors lately, even though she is mostly normal throughout the day. Sometimes, you would have a conversation with her so that she could only forget what she was talking about or completely state vague and ominous things without being able to explain herself.

You softly place your towel on the big rock and untie your shoes. Then, you sit down as the soft waves brush against the hot sand, watching the brunette standing in the water. You stand up from the rock, taking your belt off, then your shorts, until you are in just your underwear. You unclasp your bra from under your shirt, slip the straps through your sleeves, and place your bra onto your towel next to your new pair of underwear.

You walk toward the water, softly stepping into the cold, blue water. Water splashes caress your leg, hugging your body with fresh frost. As you walked deeper into the water, it was a painful pleasure to reach the unresponsive Lottie.

When the water was at your thighs, you called out to Lottie, who was only a few more feet away from you, “Hey! Good morning, Lottie!”

You decided the best thing you could do was be there for Lottie and ensure she was on the right track. You also had to comfort her and help everyone stay in the best conditions possible until you were found.

She was deeply lost in her daze, but she seemed to slowly come back to reality with slow blinks when she heard your voice. She blurted out, “Huh?” and paused to rub her eyes with her fingers. “Um, right. Good morning, (y/n).”

You chuckle, playing down what you were watching, letting her get herself in order, “Hey, I saw you weren’t at breakfast when I woke up.”

“Have you eaten?” Lottie says in a deep, raspy tone as if she is sleeping but looking at you seriously. Hearing her talk to you like that was a little eerie, but it shows her concern about skipping meals.

“Yeah, Nat found a lot of rabbits, and they basically gave me one whole one with berries. It was surprisingly delicious.”

Lottie nodded, but her eyes looked miles away from her. She looked down at your body as you came beside her in the lake. She says as she doesn’t look connected to her body yet from wherever her mind is, “What’s the bag?” she asks as she stands still.

“Soap and stuff, I wanted to take a bath, but I saw you out here and came to you. Can I ask you a favor?”

Lottie's attention was now drawn to the bag in your hand and your thick thighs. "Yeah, Of course."

She didn’t move for a moment but blinked a few times, a clearer and more present look returning to her face. Lottie turned her body to face you fully. "What do you need?"

“Can you hold my things? I'll take my bath real quick, and you can take one, too, if you want.”

Lottie blinks at you and nods, her hands out to hold the bag. You smile as you slowly place the bag in her hands. You say, “Is it okay if you hold my shirt too? I know you have seen my tits enough times, but I want to ask before I take it out,” you chuckle as you look at her shocked face.

Lottie laughed quietly, her cheeks darkening with a grin spreading on her cheeks, and nodded. "I'm sure I can survive the traumatic experience of having to see your naked tits for another few minutes."

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Whatever.” You quickly take off your shirt and put it on Lottie’s shoulder to keep it from becoming wet. Lottie then glanced around to make sure no one else was there. 'We're alone here, right?"

“I’m sure, and if we weren’t, they wouldn't be seeing anything new.”

Lottie chuckled as she turned her head back to you, her brown eyes scanning your face as she opened your bag. You move in with your naked body to grab the shampoo, start to dunk your head under the water, and stand back up to rinse the foaming soap.

You splash water on your head as you close your eyes and place the soap on the crown of your head. You move the bottle towards Lottie’s direction, then quickly wash your hair with both hands.

Almost instinctively, you peek your eyes open. You see Lottie looking at your chest and down your torso. She doesn’t even notice your eyes, watching you gaze at her. You close them again and say to her, with a little laugh on your lips, “Wanna take a picture?”

“Maybe, so I have it for later,” Lottie muttered. She took another longing look as you rinsed the grease from your hair. She said louder before you asked her to repeat herself, “I don’t have a camera.”

“Guess you just have to use your memory, Matthews.” You laugh as you lean over again. After you rinsed your hair off the shampoo, you also decided to use some conditioner.

“Don’t make me out as some kind of pervert or something, (y/n)!” Lottie says back with a laugh, and she is now looking at your face as you scrub the smooth soap through your ends.

“I’m not, but I don’t know, you might be liking my tits.”

“What can I say? You’re my girl crush.” Lottie says, looking harder at your form as your eyes closed. She quoted Cosmopolitan about movie stars and singers, but Lottie has been thinking she is forming some kind of crush on you since you both shared that kiss late at night. Lottie doesn’t know what to think, but she knows she feels safe with you, and Lottie knows that she is pleasantly surprised with how beautiful you truly are. “I also have a girl crush on Sandra Bullock.”

You giggled as you rinse out the conditioner from the ends of your hair, “What the fuck?” You laugh as your cheeks grow in heat as she talks at you like this. You are happy she is out of her episode, but you didn’t realize that your tits were so distracting for her.

Lottie laughs and says, “I don’t know, I am just talking.”

From across the lake, in the thick brush, she watches with rasped and raggedy breath as she sees (y/n) in the water with Lottie. Jealousy runs through their veins like a heroine, making them hot off this intense hatred for Lottie and even (y/n). “Why is she always with other people? Why does she just show her body off like that? Doesn’t she know how beautiful she is? Doesn’t she know I would kill someone to touch her soft skin just once?” thoughts race through the teen girl's head. She wanted to touch herself at the image of (y/n) so beautiful and vulnerable in the water. If (y/n) was alone, they could have stood in the water bathing with her and watching the soap run down her body up close. It’s all they have ever wanted; it’s what they have thought about for years. They felt themselves retreating to the woods after the sounds of the girls' shared laughter got to their ears. It felt like knives were stabbing into their skin or like bugs digging into their flesh. Their hands formed into hard fists as they stormed away from the shoreline. They couldn’t take much more of this.

After your bath, you and Lottie separated for the rest of the day. You went to your new fishing spot with your makeshift fishing net, and Lottie returned to the cabin to do laundry. She stopped by with a basket on her hip alongside Laura Lee and Van. They asked if you needed help bringing the two medium-sized grey fish, but you declined. You work hard to weave fishing lines and waterlogged weeds into a sturdy fishing net with two thick branches to anchor the netting. You would bend pop tabs at an angle until they broke, making a hook to braid into the net. You were almost halfway done with this project, but you needed to constantly work on the net to finish it before midseason when fish became less active.

When you leaned into your braiding, the small remaining hole on the tab got stuck on the fishing line in a specific braid. You let your fishing pole sit lazily next to you. You put a small frog as your bait this time, but there wasn’t even the smallest bite for the last hour.

Suddenly, as you are weaving the netting, your fishing pole lunges forward, almost getting thrust into the lake water. You quickly drop the net and rush over to your old, rusty fishing pole, and before there is another thrust forward, you grab hold of it.

A mighty thrust forward caused you to step into the water, and you panicked with the pole. You quickly tried to reel in the line, but it didn’t move; instead, it moved you.

You looked down at the water with wide eyes. As you saw the clear fishing line thrash about quickly, you stepped back and decided that the best course of action was to pull it to the surface.

You slip on the mud, and your back leans on a tree as you struggle to pull in the heavy creature at the other end. You panic as you start to feel yourself being pulled forward again into the water by a strong force. You pull the pole with you, both hands on the reel and rod, and rush back to where you sat for hours. Surprisingly, the creature at the other end seemed spooked by you; pulling it forward, the turtle stilled, and as you rushed back to your spot from before, the green ball came to the mud with a low hiss coming into the air.

You look behind you to see an ugly, large, snapping turtle staring you down. The fishing line is in the turtle's beak, most likely in its stomach, as it ate the frog.

You were amazed, but you were also scared. You didn’t know what to do, so you stared at him. A few feet away, he stood, afraid, hissing at you. He was at least 25 lbs without his rocky shell.

SNAP! SNAP!

Before you could pull him in more, he lunged at you with two great snaps of his jaw, missing you each time but getting closer to you with each bite. He stands a foot away from you with his mouth open to whine a hiss.

You couldn’t think but quickly backed up again and looked for your knife. You grab it quickly before the turtle can react. You pull him in with all the strength in your arm. He hissed as his body lifted from the ground, and he hung from the line in pain from the hook in his throat. You try to stab the turtle’s neck to kill him, but he reacts quickly.

SNAP!

You moved quickly out of the way and luckily didn’t lose your finger. You rejected not letting the others help you because now you were dealing with more than before. You didn’t want to let the turtle go, but you didn’t have the strength to keep him in the air like that. You tried again, and he snapped at you. You then decided to put the fishing line on a lower branch of the tree next to you.

You take a trig growing from the broken branch to distract the panicking snapping turtle. You annoy the turtle with a twig to the face, and the turtle snaps onto the twig like it’s nothing, but as he is distracted with the twig, you stab the turtle in the back of its head. The blade pops through its head through the turtle's left eye, popping the small ball out of the socket and making you cringe. You pull the blade from the turtle's head and pull the massive beast from the tree.

You gave up on the rest of the day after killing the turtle. It was a very taxing experience fighting with an adult snapping turtle, and you pack up for the day. You put your little tabs in the fishing box, and your net inside the box handle to walk home. You put the two gray fishes on the stomach of the snapping turtle as you held onto its shell. Walking home with the big guy was laborious, but it was worth it. You knew how much food he would be if you brought him back, so you kept walking with the turtle, weighing you down.

When you got to the cabin, everyone circled Natalie, who held a small beaver in her hands. They cheered when you came to view and seemed beyond excited that both of you caught huge catches you had for them all. There was enough food for everyone for the next couple of days, and it could be spread out for 5 days.

Everyone decided to jerk the beaver and fish to keep them longer and to eat the turtle because Mari could make so much soup from it.

Jackie looked at the slimy moss-green turtle with a curled lip and narrow eyes, “I’m not eating that.”

“What?” Mari says and steps into your space to look at the turtle. Mari picks up the turtle from its shell with both hands and huffs at the weight as if she knew how to handle the beast. “My mom makes killer turtle soup. We can cook it with its shell. We just have to scrub him up, and we have a whole soup!” Mari smiles as she struggles with now Misty to bring the dead turtle to the porch.

You held the two small grey fish by their tailfins and added to Mari, “Don’t we have some carrots and spring onions?”

Jackie gave you a sideways glance at the mention of the bendy forest purple carrots you all found by the plane. The carrots naturally grew on the vine marshy ground the plane lay on. They were a fantastic find. The problem was preserving them long enough to eat throughout the days because they were root vegetables. They were bendable and weak but still were edible. “This sounds so gross.”

“You’re such a stick in the mud, Jackie. Just think it’s rabbit.” Mari says as she starts to wipe the turtle from its blood with a rag.

“Dude, look at it! It looks like a slug!”

“Dude!” Shauna says to Jackie, nudging her shoulder to make her stop talking badly about their dinner.

“I would rather have the beaver!” Jackie yelled with defensiveness, her eyes big and wide and serious.

A snicker from Van started it, making you laugh out loud and making everyone giggle at the joke Jackie unintentionally made.

“Beaver.” Van says, and it makes everyone laugh harder. Jackie rolls her eyes with a loud ugh. She stomps off to the back of the cabin to get away from the laughing and her unintentional pussy joke.

Late that night, after everyone had eaten the turtle soup, you sat outside on the porch, writing about your day with your journal in your lap. You had picked up the habit from Shauna, and you both decided to write about your experience out in the woods so that if you were found, people would know what happened in your time stranded. You have been becoming lazy with your journal lately because there has been nothing new to write about. You have been fishing, talking with your friends, and worrying about your mom.

A strong breeze sent a chill down your legs, making you cringe at the cold night. You closed your journal, placed your ballpoint pen in the center, and decided to pack it up for the night. You stood up off the porch steps, but as you stood, you felt a deep pressure in your pelvis, making you want to pee.

You turned yourself around to go to the woods, the pooping corner, as Mellissa coined it. You felt the tall grass brush against your calves, crickets and salamanders sing in the twilight of the Canadian mountainside; you felt the crisp, clean air reach your nostrils and travel down your throat. You traveled down the small trail you and all the others made from traffic, but you felt a drop in your chest as you approached the bushes.

Snap!

You turn your head to your right, through the thick brush of trees toward the abandoned plane, to the sound of something snapping a branch. You see the small figure in the brush coming towards you, her hands holding the tree for whatever reason. Her eyes glued on you, her mouth slightly open, she looks shocked at the snapping branch.

“Misty! Holy moly!” You yelp as you jump back on instinct. Misty always had a way to catch you off guard. “What the hell are you doing over there?”

“Uh, Peeing?”

You laugh out loud as you pant. For whatever reason, you feel your heartbeat in your chest. Misty’s unsettling personality isn’t one to be around at night. It is uncomfortable, but it is bearable if you speak right. You put your hand on your chest as you laugh again to distract from her creepiness and act like you are not uncomfortable in her presence.

“Oh, of course! Sorry, Misty! Doing the same!”

She steps forward out of the brush and keeps her eyes on you. “I could come with you to keep watch, you know, um, just to make sure you're safe,” she says.

A stiff breeze hit the back of your legs, but it wasn’t as chilling as the feeling of Misty’s eyes staring into yours. Something simmered under the surface—it was always there, but in this moment, it felt dangerous. You felt a desperate need to let her near you, to be friendly with her, but she didn’t know how to mask the sinister undertone in her words.

You hated the fact you felt pity. You felt bad. You didn’t want to make Misty feel like a freak like everyone else. You remember how crushed she was when Randy called her a dyke at homecoming years back, and you remember the rumors of her having anal and giving boys footjobs even though everyone knew she didn’t. You know how everyone treats her like an outcast in the wilderness. It wasn’t fair to be permanently outcasted because you were offputting but overly kind, you thought.

“Yeah, sure. Can you hold my journal?” You say to her as you stand in place, waiting for her to be beside you. “Hey, I have a question to ask you, actually?.” you add as you move to be behind a bush.

Misty looks into your eyes softly, her hands tightly holding the leather bond book. She smiles tightly and says, “Yeah?”

“What are those birds out on the water, do you know?” you ask as you unbutton your pants, move to a squat and pee. Your eyes lock onto Misty as you continue, “The one that makes those loud dove noises. I know those aren’t crows because they are like ducks sitting on the water and don’t sound like crows. They are so loud and scary early in the morning.”

Misty smiles, her eyes perking up with light, her face almost red with excitement as she proclaims, “Those are Common Loons. The black ones with red eyes.” She says with a smile growing on her lips, like she is smiling under the mask she wears, “Fun fact! They use Loon calls as Mourning Dove calls in movies because Loon’s are a lot more crisp sounding.”

You smile at her softly as you study her face. “That’s crazy... I thought it was some kind of duck or something.” You chuckle as you watch her face. You look to the forest floor for some leaves to wipe with, and Misty continues talking about different birds. You feel a shiver down your spine at how normal Misty is.

After you were done, you walked with her, took your journal back from Misty, and kept talking about her special interest in birds. She told you she has a pet named Neapolitan, Yellow Canary, back home who always sings for her when she enters her room. As she was talking, you watched closely at her eyes and lips.

Her eyes are bright and wide, and her lips turn upward as she speaks. But it was as if something inside wasn’t connecting with her eyes.

There was no sadness or grief at being here and not with Neapolitan. There was just contentment in her face.

Misty is acting the same way she did before the crash. She seemed fine, happier talking about the loon out on the lake more than her pet in her room. It wasn’t right. It made no sense. It scared you.

The energy coming off misty just made you want to run away. You don’t understand why Misty is giving you the creeps in the back of the cabin, but you don’t feel well hearing her speak. Hearing her become so content with being here and talking about home like it didn’t tear her apart made you feel sick. You couldn’t understand how she wasn’t sobbing, talking about home or a pet, and just talking to you like this was her best conversation in years.

Misty was at the porch with you as you started to step up the stairs to the cabin’s front door; she listed, “There is also the brewer sparrow, burrowing owl, bald eagles, American dipper, the brown-headed cowbird-”

“Misty?”

“Yeah?” She asked with her head whipping back to you, her blonde curls bouncing around her head with the movement.

“I need to ask you a serious question, and it needs to stay between us, okay?”

Her eyes widened for a second as she approached you with a deadly serious expression, taking the face you needed her opinion on sincerely. “Anything, what is it?”

You sigh and look away from her at the beautiful starry sky above you. “Do you think we're going to be found? I just—” You sigh as you look at the north star off the side of the Waxing gibbous.

“I don’t know.” Misty immediately answers before thinking about it, but she says, “Maybe the plane had its last location sent to the power tower, and people are searching high and low for you guys.”

“What do you mean “you guys”? Your family are looking for you like all our families are.”

“I don’t think they are, " Misty said as if it were a fact. At this moment, her eyes were empty of emotion, and her face looked too relaxed to be natural.

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, don’t ask if we’re going to be found as if you've given up hope, (y/n),” Misty says with a serious voice as she steps closer to you, with her face almost in yours, “You are the one everyone is looking up to for what to do out here, you're the one holding all of this together, and you can’t start asking those things now. You’re our only hope of staying alive long enough for search teams to find us, and you're doing amazing. You can’t lose hope now.”

She spoke to you like she was pushing you on a pedestal, building your confidence with a fierce glare to push you back in place. It was so unsettling. It was just wrong; it felt wrong, like she was toying with you for losing hope, which was so odd. Why do that?

Just like the day you left the locker room after their last game before the whole plane ride, she hid in the hallway just to stare at you.

“Okay, " you say to her as you fight the urge to step back, trying not to hurt Misty’s feelings. I’ll try. Sorry. I haven’t given up hope; I have just been getting wary lately.”

“It’s okay, (y/n), just make sure you don’t tell anyone else what you just told me because that might scare them.” Misty says again with her smile creeping up slowly, predatorily, like a wolf lifting its lip to lick their chops.

You blink slowly, feeling unnerved by the words but seeing why she was saying them. “I mean, I am just being realistic. I’m not trying to be a stick in the mud.”

“I know that.” Misty quickly animates her face and body, her hands to her chest to prove her innocence, with her eyes looking big up at yours. “We’re friends that understand each other, but the others don’t understand that. They will judge you and never take you seriously again.”

You look at her momentarily to understand what she is saying and feel the sinister undertone in her words. You know you should play it dumb and safe, though, as you smile at her and say, “Yeah, okay, you're right. Sorry for talking crazy.”

“No problem, bestie!” Misty beamed with a tight grin. Her eyes looked cold as she tried to make her smile warmly.

‘21

You had a wonderful last few days. When Misty dropped you off at your house, you quickly wrote the ending for your smutty novel. It was a perfect ending where the two women stay together and have hot sex, the perfect ending for a complicated romance story. It made you so happy to turn in the novel finally to your publisher, which after review, they fucking loved as well. It was sent to the editors, and the book's production will start by the end of next month. You couldn’t help but feel so accomplished that you even took your father out on a nice dinner to celebrate, and you have been on a happy high since.

Tonight, you have been sent over the editor's notes to fix the holes in the story. You went to get yourself a coffee and dinner and came home to see your cat sitting on your laptop keyboard.

You then took the next couple hours devoting yourself to critically combing through your story, your handwritten notes beside you, and your reading glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose. The chapters have been read over four times with edits each time to be approved in your eyes to move to the next. You remember when your first published book came out. It was a lesbian Vampire book trilogy about a feminine Noblewoman meeting a street fighting masc, which just so happened to come out at the same time the movie Twilight came out. The success of the movie made your book blow up in popularity among queer groups, in conservative groups from outrage, and from everyday literature lovers. You remember how stressed you were when you were writing the series and how many demands were placed on you to push out the next book and the next, and then you didn’t hear from your publisher for a year until they demanded a new book. You then wrote a fantasy book romance that had a fairy falling in love with a goblin, another successful series. Now, on your third romance trilogy, you have grown bored of your fantasy creatures and celebrate concepts. Tension grows in your shoulders in your computer chair, and you lean back, taking your glasses off in exhaustion.

Rubbing your eyes and leaning back in your chair, you naturally pulled back. The wheel glided on the carpet under your resting foot, and your eyes landed on the open closet.

Your chest grew hot, and your breath became deep. Staring at your closet door, with your hands on your head, you slowly rose from the chair.

“You don’t need to read them again.“ The voice begs in the back of your head.

In a semi-self-inflected trance, you step into the closet and find a mess of clothes and long-forgotten items: skates from the 1980s, notebooks from NYU, and an old steel safe.

“Stop it. You don’t need to read them again.” It says again.

Your painted fingers type in the code, your mother's birthday, and quickly open the safe. When you open the safe, a wave of smell barrels towards your nose, smelling like old paper, dirt, dust, and small hints of Pine.

You start at the worn black leather of the bound journal, which has water and sun damage staining on the exterior. The once-white pages have yellowed over the years, and the quality feels like it will fall apart in your hands before too long.

You gradually breathe as you lean against your closet wall and slide down, looking at the 25-year-old journal.

“(Y/n), it’s not going to change.” The voice pleads as you turn the page to a random page of the first book you found.

7/7/96 Today was productive and amazing! I caught a snapping turtle about 30ish ibs, and we made a yummy soup of it. It's the best thing I've had out here so far because I feel myself salivating about it. I can't wait to have a bowl tomorrow for breakfast. When Travis took a bite of the soup, he got the eyeball of the turtle, and he gagged. Mari said it was good luck and should eat it, but he kept gagging. He is so pathetic!! Natalie caught a beaver today, and we decided to make it jerky. Jackie didn’t want to eat the turtle, so she said to everyone with a straight face, “I want the beaver!” Needless to say, it made us all laugh until we peed! I am feeling happy today and hopeful. I feel better about being here, but it doesn’t make me feel completely at ease at the thought of being okay. I hope they haven’t given up looking for us, and I know everyone’s family wouldn’t stop looking for us. 7/8/96 I caught two fish, one of which was a salmon (score!!) Natalie and I started making a map by walking around the area and building it together. I had a bowl of turtle broth for breakfast and some fish jerky. a lot of progress with my fishing net. I am about ¾ completed, but I need more stable vining. I feel somewhat like I am PMSing, and I am so not ready to be on my period just yet again out here. I wish I had a pad or tampon out here. All we have is homemade ones out of shirts and stuffing made from cattails fluff. I am about to start because I am much more sad than yesterday. I miss my mom so much I can’t even help but cry when I think of her face

You violently start to sob and cover your face with your hand after reading the tragic line from your old journal. The journal that you and Shauna started there. It’s been 25 years since you wrote that sentence in the journal, but the statement is never more accurate than it is right now. You felt like you were 18 again. You were a child missing their mother and just want to talk to them about it. About everything, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to talk to your mother again. Nothing has changed from then to where you are now.

It was physical proof of your broken mind and heart. The words don’t even sound like you anymore. It was so young and naive, hopeful to no end. But when you see lines like that, you break down like a baby. Maybe it was for all the times you didn’t cry when you should have been out there.

You felt as you looked at the young woman’s words a feeling of grief that just harassed you in place when you so much as looked at a page. It didn’t matter if it was a sad or mundane page. It always made you break down. You don’t understand why you still have urges to read over your old dairy, but you did almost every week for your whole adult life. Maybe it was a reminder of the dead young girl you used to be or just clinging onto the moments in the wilderness that made you feel whole. It made you feel like you knew everything, your purpose, and the meaning of life, but as time marched forward, you didn’t feel any more in place than you did then.

It wasn’t fair.

You were just a girl.

You all were just children.

You may not have died, but a part of your soul did. Some of you just couldn’t escape those pine trees and butterfly weeds. It’s been a whole lifetime away, but you still haunt yourself.

It hurt because the words were just as true then as they are now.

You missed your mom.

You missed yourself.

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang!

You pause in panic and hold the journal to your chest in fright. You don’t understand. Is it real? It’s dead of night outside, and you live in the middle of nowhere.

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang!

“Hello! (Y/n)! Open up, please!” A familiar feminine voice yells from outside your house. It comes from your backdoor. The glass French doors rattled from the knock from the other, making a vibration ring out into the house and your shaking heart. Your anxiety spikes as you slam your journal shut, and you throw it into the safe, shutting the safe door with a sharp click. You race downstairs and go toward the doors with your heart beating violently against your chest. You don’t know why, but you knew you had to open the door for some reason without a fight.

You rush to your door in a panic, worried it is one of the team members in trouble and immediately needs you, and quickly unlock the back door. You felt foolish and like you were putting yourself in danger by opening the door when it was dark outside, but the knocking wouldn’t let up.

You rip open the door to come face to face with the big blue eyes of your goddaughter.

“Callie!?”

“Before you say anything, I need to-“

“Oh my god! Are you alright?” You gasp at her and grab her arms, looking over her small teenage body for any wounds or signs of her being harmed. How did she get here? She doesn’t have her license yet. She lives 3 miles away. She is in her bedclothes and has no coat or a bra.

“What? No, I’m fine.” She says to you in a snapping tone, tired from her journey to your home. She came from the wooded separation between the neighborhoods. You stand in shock, your mouth wide open as you stare at Callie.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE SO LATE!?” you raged as you grabbed ahold of her arm. You look outside to see if her boyfriend is there in his car. He wasn’t. You pull her into your warm home. “What the hell are you thinking!? It’s 1:20 in the morning!”

“Jesus Christ, Let me explain, chill!”

“Chill!? Are you serious? Does your mom know you're here?”

“Like she cares! She thinks I am at Cyanne's house, and I came home, but no one was home.”

“Callie, of course, she cares about you. She cares a whole shit ton about you.”

“Sure, she does.” She rolls her eyes softly, looking to the floor to examine her shoes. She is ashamed and defensive and feels foolish for coming here. You can read it all over her face. You take a deep breath. You need to calm down and make her understand.

“Callie, I am freaking out because I love you. Why did you walk to my house in the middle of the night with no coat? Do you know how dangerous that was?” You continued with a stern voice, your hand on her arm again to make her look at you.

She rolls her eyes again, annoyed, “I was okay, alright! I am fine! I was cold, and my feet hurt, that’s it!”

“You could have run into a dangerous person, you could have gotten lost in the woods-“

“I didn’t, OKAY!”

“Why are you here?” You ask again with her stern tone, your hand holding her tighter to make her look at you.

“My parents are cheating on each other.” She blurted out as she kicked off her shoes. She moves her arm out of your hold to sit on the couch beside your backdoor. You let her push off your hold of her at the words; you feel a sense of guilt come over you again as you lean against the wall.

Day 2

The humidity of the July morning breeze made your skin feel sticky as you carried some logs toward the chopping block for the firewood you all would need for the day. You woke up early today, restless as always, and stuff in the neck as you were the day before, and you look down at your tied shoes. Noticing the now caked-on dirt, mud, and leaves that have stained the fabric of your shoes it made you sad to see how dirty they got within only a few months out here.

You lift your head, and to your shock, you stand still in what is in front of you. As you approached the back of the cabin through the woods, you noticed two girls giggling against a tree. You see pale hands holding the tree as they lean into the other girl, their other hand on the other girl's stomach. You almost immediately know it was Taissa and Van making out against a tree. Soft moans from Taissa came out as she arched her back against the tree. You notice Van’s other pale hand down Taissa’s shorts.

You were in shock as you watched them. You felt dirty for walking in on their intimate moment and pervert for feeling your body tingle at them touching each other. Jealously ran hot in your veins, but embarrassment possessed you stronger. You realize you are watching like a peeping Tom and try to turn away from them.

Snap!

You cringe at the snapping of a branch under your foot. The two girls turn to your snapping branch to find you standing awkwardly behind them with wood logs in your hands.

“(Y/n)!” “Please, stop-”

“Guys, it’s, please don’t panic-” You try to calm the two down as they storm towards you. Van’s face was painted red, eyes dressed in worry as Taissa’s face was panicked.

“(y/n), You can’t tell anyone about this! I’m so sorry you walked in on this, but don’t think that we are lesbians or anything we- we just-” Taissa rambles as she grabs your arm to keep you there. They’re scrambling to find any explanation or excuse to explain the two of them making out against the tree even though there was no way to play down what they did. They still tried, and you just shook your head.

“Please, it’s okay, I promise-”

“You can’t tell anyone about this, (y/n)! They can’t find out about us; please don’t.” Taissa panicked again, tears in her eyes. The sight made you pause, and your heart hurt. Seeing how hard they tried to hide their love made you want to cry.

“Please, (y/n), don’t tell anyone,” Van added with deeply concerned eyes. She kept her hands to her waist, hugging herself, and tried to hide the proof of Taissa on her hands.

You look at the two with wide eyes as you realize you must calm them down. “I won’t tell anyone about this! I didn’t mean to walk in on you two-’

Taissa completely broke down as you spoke. Her face turned painfully in sadness as she started to cry. Her cheek was red with a lack of breath, and her eyebrows furrowed together tight. She was stressing out and about to have a panic attack.

You drop your wood logs on the forest floor, approach Taissa, and hug her. She tried to push you off at the first attempt, but at your second, she came into your arms with deep sobs coming from her stomach.

She wasn’t just crying about you finding out she was gay.

Your eyes scan towards Van, who bites the cuticle on her finger as she watches anxiously. It seemed to be a death sentence for the two to be found out. You say without hesitation, “I’m not saying a word. You have my word. I would rather die.”

Van blurts, “(Y/n), it’s okay, but you're not okay with this. We don’t know what to say-”

“Please, " you say again as you rub Taissa’s back. She is still sobbing quietly in your neck. With tears in your eyes, you say, “I understand. I get it more than you understand.”

There was a pause in the air after you spoke. Even Taissa calmed her breathing and her cries.

Van’s eyebrow quirked in confusion, and Taissa, hidden in your neck, seemed to be doing the same.

You felt brave in this moment with the two completely a mess in their shame and worry.

“I have known about you two for a while. I didn’t say anything because I was envious of you two. You found each other, and you had each other.” You pause as you try to find the right words. Taissa pulls away to look at you. I never found anyone to be with like you two.”

“What are you saying?” Van asks, her eyebrow higher on her forehead as she slowly figures out what you are saying. Taissa quietly connects the dots as she listens to you speak.

You tear up more as you would say it out loud for the first time. You felt emotional.

“I like girls, Van. I’m gay. I’ve never tried to be with a guy or anything, but I am sure I won’t be getting with anyone who isn’t a woman.”

They both pause as the moment comes over the three of you. A eureka moment was almost in the air as you looked down at your feet.

“I’ve known about you two since Randy’s party before leaving for Seattle.” You said as you looked at your feet. “I saw it in the way you two looked at each other. I just knew. I don’t know if anyone who isn’t gay would know, but I knew.”

You look back up to the two silenced girls and add, feeling yourself vomiting your emotions to the two only people who would understand, “I didn’t say anything because I was happy you two found each other. I was jealous because I didn’t have anyone, but I wouldn’t do that to you. I know how much it would kill me if someone told people before I was ready. I mean, I haven’t even dated a guy before or had sex with one to completely know if I am, but I just never had the urge to be with a guy, so I don’t think I am wrong…”

“(y/n), Why didn’t you tell us?” Taissa asks. She steps closer towards you with a hand holding yours kindly. It touches your heart.

You choke up as a tear comes to your eye. Van comes towards you, too, with a soft smile. “I don’t know. I didn’t even want to mention it. I don’t want you to think I wanted to do something wrong or that I wanted to break you two up-”

“Oh, no, no, (y/n), you big dummy.” Van chuckles as she comes to hug you and rubs your back. “We would never think you would do that!”

Taissa agrees instantly. She says, “We didn’t even think you would tell anyone; we were just panicked!”

‘I know, I get it! So, please believe me when I say the secret is safe with me! I am happy you two are together, and I don’t want to push you before you are ready to say anything. It's none of my business to tell.’

“Thank you,” Taissa says again, deeply touched by your words. As you finish speaking, she quickly pulls you into a hug. Van quickly follows suit. She holds a soft smile the whole time.

You softly cried and said in Taissa’s chest, “You two are the first I’ve ever told. Not even Shauna and Jackie know.”

It always felt so shameful that you never told your closest friends your true proclivities, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look them in the eyes and say you liked girls and not guys. Not after years of lying and saying you wanted to fuck random guys you decided you had a crush on, you felt like if you let the truth out to Jackie and Shauna, it would hurt whatever dynamic you had left after your distance because of your mom’s health. You skipped out on so many hangouts, sleepovers, club meetings, and even birthdays with your sandbox best friends, and it has been slowly killing you. They still reached out and acted like nothing changed, but you all know things have shifted to Jackie and Shauna being the best friends, and you are now the tagalong old friend. But since being out in the wilderness, you have been closer to them than ever. Every day the three of you steal away time to talk shit and just be girls for a few hours by the river while you fish. It was slowly feeling like it did back in freshmen year of high school when you three were a true trio, but the growing weight of your mental health and shame for not telling them so many things, being gay being one of them.

Van rubs a hand on your back as she pushes a hair behind your ear. “I am very happy to be the first to hear it. Thank you for telling me that. I told my big sister, " she confesses. She smiles softly at you, a sadness in her eyes. “She wasn’t super happy about it, but after a while, she acted the same as she always had.”

Taissa nods her head and says with a chuckle, “You are the first I’ve had to tell I was gay without dating them.”

You chuckle softly back as you pull away from the hug. You say as you look at the two again, “Please, believe me when I say it’s all going to be okay. Just be more careful with people being around.”

After this morning, the day went smoothly. Van went to chop wood, Taissa started cleaning laundry in the lake shortly after your deep confessions, and you went out to fish like always.

Today was a lucky day in the spring season because you caught a small gray fish and a Salmon. You caught a stray salmon on its way to lay eggs for the season, and it was completely healthy. As you raised the fish from the water, it snapped its tail.

You returned to camp with your wins, only to find Natalie returning with two more brown rabbits, dragging the small animal back to camp.

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing over there?” she calls as she approaches you on the trail. She seems in good spirits today, walking with a skip in her step, the rifle comfortably hanging from her shoulder.

“Got a fish, what about you, baby?” You say back with a chuckle at the end, trying to flirt back with her playfully.

She chuckles with you, a big smile, as she lifts the rabbits in her hand. " I got some dinner.”

You chuckle again without realizing you feel like a stupid schoolgirl not even listening to Natalie’s words, and you beam to her, “You did well with those traps!”

Natalie blushes as she chuckles; her hand scratches the back of her neck, and her eyes shy down to the ground. “Yeah, well, you helped me set them up.”

“It was nothing because you were doing almost all of it.” You giggle offhandedly, and you walk together to the cabin. You then snap your fingers that you remembered a thought you had. “I have an idea to run by you!”

“What’s up?”

“I was thinking that maybe we could start making a map of some sort to find a way out because we both go into the woods often.”

Natalie nodded slowly as she processed what you said, “like how?”

“Like we can draw the cabin as the center and then draw everything around it until we are as far as we can go.” You say with a shrug as you reach the cabin. Girls circle the fire, talking, working on firewood, hanging and sewing clothes on the line.

Natalie looks at you as you both place the animals on the table in the cabin for Coach Scott to skin for cooking later. “I see. You're saying we piece together everything we know until we get enough coverage to find a way out?”

“Yeah! I don’t know, but can we figure it out while we go? Like when we are bored, we draw more to the map.”

“Yeah, okay, I like this plan.” She smiles as she slowly looks over your face. With a cute shrug, she says, “I’m happy I’m doing something. Gives me a reason to steal your time.”

You giggle a little at the comment, trying not to take it as a clear hint that she wants to be with you. You say, “You always steal some of my time away, baby.”

“I just want more.” Natalie smiled at you playfully as she slid away from you in the kitchen doorway to the other living space. You felt yourself smile to yourself in a flustered state, huffing out air. “Holy shit.” You mumble as you walk from the table to the back of the cabin.

‘21

You lean against the wall with your eyes wide. You study Callie’s distraught face and see her lip quivering.

“My mom is cheating on my dad, and my dad is never home because his stupid fucking database needs work on, but it’s all just bullshit!” Callie says with a quiver in her voice, and tears come to her eyes, and she continues to say, “I am so sick of this shit!”

You stay quiet because you feel like she just wants to yell out her frustrations at you, and you want her to calm down.

“My mom asks me how I am or my day at school, but she doesn’t care about me! She doesn’t know what music I am, she doesn’t like my clothes, she hates my boyfriend, I can’t do this.” She has fat tears rolling down her face as she rages on. She tries to keep up the front that she is nonchalant and doesn’t care even though it is failing. “She just looks at me with these cold fucking eyes. I can’t stand it anymore. She looks at me and doesn’t see me at all! I am just a roommate to her!”

“Callie, that is not true. Your mother loves you.”

“No, she doesn’t. She fucking hates me.”

You stop yourself from yelling at her by closing your eyes and covering your mouth. You had a painful flash of a memory as she says that, of a bloody pile of rags used in the wilderness that old winter night when Shauna was in labor for the first time. You remember her cries that rattled your soul and caused you to have a tear in your eye. You could never bring yourself to speak about the baby before her, and it wasn’t your place to tell Callie something so heartbreaking about her mother. It didn’t stop your heart from breaking.

“Callie, stop-“

“I know she is fucked up, and she is traumatized, but she doesn’t care how she traumatizes me.” She says with her eyes full of angry tears, and she points to herself with her hands, but her eyes grow wide as she looks at you across from her after that sentence.

You just stood there emotionless against the wall, with your eyes losing color as she paused to reflect on what she said. You sigh deeply. You slide down a wall for the second time tonight as you softly raise your eyebrow at her and look away for a second. You take out the pack of cigarettes in your sweatpants pocket, and you put one in your mouth.

“I’m going to let you in on a little something,” you pause to light your cigarette, “something about the woods.”

You see her eyes keep wide and watery as she hugs her arms around her belly. She is focused on what you are saying but says nothing, scared of what will happen.

“Your mom, Jackie, and I have been best friends since kindergarten. We met playing house at recess and were always at each other's hips.” You say as you take a puff of your stick, looking at Callie with soft eyes, “I knew how your mother was when we were young. She was stubborn and guarded with her emotions; sometimes, Jackie and I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. She hid some things from us but always told us eventually.”

You stand up and sit next to Callie on your couch. You stare at the floor in front of you. Not her as you continue, you want to vomit, “But when we got out there, uh, the things that happened,” you pause yourself as you feel your lip quiver, “You have heard what people say about us, how they whisper what we did and what we did to each other to survive, is not as bad as it did go, honey.” You say with honesty dripping in your haunted tone, and you are in a faze staring at the burls in your hardwood floors. You know what you said was too dark and too vague not to continue as she sits beside you with bated breath. “People passed away out there because the winters were so cold that death felt like going to sleep. People passed away because they were trying to hunt, and wolves found them.” You stopped yourself again as you felt a tear fall from your eye. You weren’t even in your own body as you kept talking. It is somewhat the truth, mostly a lie, but still, the same reality you lived. You didn’t need to tell her the truth just yet.

You didn’t even look at the girl in the corner of your eye. Callie stared in awe as you spoke about the unspeakable—the crash and surviving the wilderness. Tears formed in Callie’s eyes as she looked at her godmother. She was emotionally and mentally affected by what had happened just from speaking vaguely about it, thinking about you as a teenager going through all that, and thinking about her mother as a teenager in that situation, too.

“I need you to know what happened out there changed your mother. It kept her alive. It’s why she is here today, baby.” You say as you slowly turn to look at Callie. You push your goddaughter's hair behind her ear as your face stays still, tears running down her young, flustered cheeks. “When we lost Jackie, me and your mom were never the same. Something died within us. And every time you come face to face with the death of a friend like that, it kills something inside of you. It’s hard having kids of your own when you have known so many dead children at one time…”

You put your cigarette out as it reached the filter of the stick, and you flicked the rest into the small ashtray on the corner table. “Callie, you are the age we were when all that happened. I know that in some small part when she looks at you, she sees what she could have been if it hadn’t been for the crash. And maybe it’s why she isn’t close to you right now or why she isn’t up your ass wondering what you're doing. Because she wants you to have a good time and do the stupid teenager stuff. She will never tell you that, though.” You say with a smile to Callie and a nudge to her side. You look at the calmed-down girl who looked deep in thought with her hands on her knees,

You add to her ear with a warm tone to your voice again, your hand on her shoulder. “She loves you. Period. She worries sick about you, and she couldn’t put you down when you were born because she worried you would go away if she let you go, Callie. But she couldn’t be a mother like she could have been if your mom had never been out there in those woods, even if that doesn’t make that easier for you or make it fair… it was some really dark times out there for your mother, and that’s why she is not as emotionally open like other mothers. I’m sorry, Callie, but please don’t think your mother loves you.”

“Okay.”

“And with that being said, what is happening with your mom and dad is between them. Stay out of it. I don’t know what is happening, but you have no part. They love you, no question, even if they are cheating. I understand it is affecting you and making you uncomfortable, but you can’t get involved with your parents. Okay.” You add that as you nudge her with your shoulder with a big smile. She softly smiles back with a shake of her head.

“Fine.” She sighs, defected.

You stand before your stove as you fry eggs in a pan. You yawn as you sip on your coffee. Your eyes still have a sleep crust in the corners of your eyes. You woke early to make breakfast for the sleeping Callie on your old sofa. Last night, after your long talk with Callie, you led her to your comfy sofa with the TV controller. You have her a pillow and a throw blanket to sleep on as you sit in your dad's old recliner. You let Callie put the TV on CartoonNetwork on some show she liked as a kid. You didn’t care much for its colorful characters or their loud laughing, but you leaned back as you heard Callie softly snore beside you in the living room. You leaned on your fist as you napped until the morning birds chirped outside your window.

You made a big breakfast for the two of you, including eggs, bacon, toast, and a fruit salad bowl. When you hear the teenager walking down the hallway connecting to the kitchen, she slumps into a counter chair. She looks comfortable and relaxed at your house, as you always do when you watch her.

“Good morning, Callie. How did you sleep?” You asked as you poured yourself another cup of coffee.

She yawns with her arms wide stretching, and she says in a deep yawn, “Good! I’m starving!”

You chuckle as you place the fruit bowl before her and fry her eggs, “Eat up. You came at the right time. I needed to get rid of some food.”

Callie chuckled as she threw a blackberry into her mouth. She says, “See, your favorite goddaughter coming over wasn’t such a bad thing.”

“No, but sneaking out of your house at midnight and crossing town to my house isn’t so cool.” As you look at the side of your face to her, you want her to know you’re not over the danger she put herself in to talk to. “You couldn’t have called me to pick you up.”

“You would have said no.”

“I might have, but you would have been safe.”

Callie sighed and took another berry in her mouth, slumping back in the chair almost defectively. You sigh in return as you plate the buttery egg for the child, “Listen, I love you. I care about your safety and feelings, okay? I would have come to your house and taken you out for ice cream or something. I wasn’t doing much then anyways, just picking out an outfit.”

Callie looks at you with big, soft eyes as you push the plate toward her. She just keeps her head down as you speak. Callie picks up a fork and eats the hot eggs and bacon. She mumbles as she eats, “Thank you for talking to me last night. About what happened.”

You move beside her, slumping into the chair. " Any time, I’ll always be there for you.”

“Why were you picking out an outfit at 1 in the morning?” Callie chuckled as she spoke, completely taken from your comment earlier.

You chuckle and say, “I’m promoting my book at a convention soon, so I was trying to find something cute.”

“Can I help you?” She asks you with big eyes, pleading for a yes, and shoves the hot egg into her mouth.

You chuckle and nod, “Finish your breakfast, and we can look around.”

Day 3

You and Natalie decided to start the map idea today. You went west towards the plane. There were enough animals that you both felt comfortable not fishing for the day, so you could devote more time to mapping the area. Today was the hottest day this week, and just walking to the front door from getting dressed made you sweat like a pig.

“Alright, I’m going to head north, and you go to the plane, try to find out what's beyond that big ass tree.” Natalie says to you casually as she readjusts the rifle strap on her shoulder. She looks over you softly.

You nod as you hold onto the strap of your purse, which you emptied to use as your forage bag—it just so happens to hold your remaining cigarettes. “Okay, I’ll try to get back at sundown, but I might take some rest.”

“Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

“I’ll try. You better try, too. You're so pale you’ll get sunburnt just standing right here.”

Natalie chuckled and shook her head, turning herself around to walk in her direction for her hunting, “Sundown!”

You smile and turn away towards the trail, “Sundown!”

You then march forward in the familiar trail down the forest. The way to the plane crash was like the back of your hand at this point. The once long and narrow path has become comfortable to travel through from Natalie and Travis.

The heat surrounded your skin, creating a sticky film that dripped down every curve of your plush body. You felt a sweat drop from your back and collect on your bra’s clasp. The heat was getting to you, but you kept yourself under the shade of the tall trees. You would have already been resting if you were directly under the sun.

A pale-barked tree with lime leaves had dark branch scars on its flesh, standing at a curve in the trail, looking like almond eyes staring down at you in random directions. It was natural for birch trees to have lower branches to break off so that the plant could focus on the top branches that face the sun, but the scars of the branches falling age into the almost furrowed fiber. It was unreal but completely natural. As it was unnerving, it was beautiful. You stop yourself in awe at the simple, complex, tall plant; it is skinny but tall enough to be at least 50 years old and 60 feet tall and stare up in wonder at the peaks of sunlight through the cotyledon. As you gently let your eyes glance down, the slight curve of its shape as it comes to its base.

The symbol stares at you. You softly raise your eyebrow as you stare down at the carving. It had to be new because it was at eye level with you, but it was faded enough not to be made by one of your teammates. Was it the mummy in the attic that made this? Or was it someone else? You were always so confused as you looked at the odd shape in the bark that your finger ran across the image out of a sudden urge. Your finger glides against the triangle, the short arms of the descending sides, the long diagonal line that crosses the entire shape, a crowned circle to the point on the top, and then a crooked hook at the base. You sighed to yourself as you moved away from the birch tree to continue on the trail. Your finger tingled with the friction.

You passed the old plane with a stiff, steady foot away from the eerie sight. Since the crash, you had wanted nothing to do with planes. The thought alone of being suspended in the air made your heart squeeze in your chest, and your stomach turn. You didn’t look at the white exterior as you rushed past the beast.

When you get past the wide thick dark brown oak tree, aka big ass tree, that had moss dominating the left side, at least 150 years old, you walk forward on the tall grass. You look down at the ground and try to find anything worth taking back as you walk forward, making the map a wonderful excuse to forage.

The summer has been a little dry in the last few weeks, with insufficient rain. The grass is turning brown in places as you move forward. The ground was barren of any nuts or mushrooms. You glace up, and you pause.

In front of you was the old, wide, thick tree again, and the plane was just behind you again. You looked behind yourself to be sure of it.

The plane was behind you again like you hadn’t walked at least five feet away from it.

A breeze brushed against your side, moving the baby hairs on your cheek as you studied the tree in front of you in confusion.

The timber has deep lines embedded in the tree's grain, and the moss grew on every pendant's surface. The swirls of the fiber were enchanting to look at and find where the line goes, but you pull yourself back from the beauty of the wood. You pull your crop top up to your face and wipe the multiple drops of sweat trailing down your nose and cheeks.

You march forward with some determination, trying to solve this problem. It made no sense.

You walk past the mossy oak tree again and go towards the crowd of trees in front of you that goes on and on. Your eyebrow quirks stay on your forehead as you continue on your journey.

And you walk forward towards the detritus as expected. The crunch of dead leaves and branched cry under your feet as you walk faster forward. Your eyes softened as you glanced around the environment, and you felt the uneasiness of whatever happened to melt from your shoulders. You reason that you must have turned yourself around when looking down at the mushrooms. You feel your mind wander as you march forward. You look up absentmindedly to look at the leaves above your head for some kind of entertainment.

Your eyes level back to their natural direction, and when you do, they widen in terror.

The cabin was before you, and Natalie was next to you. She looked at you nonchalantly and said, “Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

You freeze in place as you stare at the bleach blonde with a cold sweat coming over you. You felt the sweat collected from the hike you just had, and it felt like you spilled in time back to your conversation over 45 minutes ago.

“Hey, are you alright?” Natalie asked concernedly, her hand touching your upper arm to reassure you. She noticed how much you were sweating and was completely confused. How could you be so sweaty from walking from the cabin to the fire pit??

You just stare into her eyes, feeling scared, “Wha-what?”

“I said to stay out of the sun. Are you alright? Are you sure you're up for it today? It’s really hot.” Natalie says as she looks you over. She notices the pale complexion on your face and how your hands softly shake. “We haven’t looked past the tree, but you shouldn’t be scared.”

It was like you didn’t walk away. It felt wrong. This was wrong.

“I know, sorry! I’m getting a little lightheaded because my period is coming.” You lie, trying to find any excuse for acting so strange to her.

She raised an eyebrow and questioned what was happening to the girl beside her, and she said, “Okay… Just take some water with you. Take as many breaks as you need.”

“I will.” You say and nod. You must have imagined walking past the plane if you hadn’t left this conversation like nothing happened. You take the plastic red water bottle Natalie handed you with a soft smile and worried eyes.

“(Y/n), if you get tired, just head home. We can always come back to it; don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’ll try not to. I will come back as soon as possible, I promise.”

“Okay, try to get back at sunset, " she says as she softly steps back and starts to head in her direction to hunt. Her gun hits the back of her thigh as she stares you down. Please don’t overdo It.”

“Okay, be careful,” you mutter back to her as you watch her walk off in her direction as she did in the morning. You remember everything, and it’s happening again.

You shook your head to yourself as you turned yourself around, “I’m fucking crazy.” You thought as you walked the trail again, but you knew for certain you had traveled, and there was no question in the ache of your feet.

You get to the carved birch tree once again with its dark eyes. You don’t give it or the plane so much of a glance as you continue to the mossy oak.

You felt focused on your mission to understand how you got turned around so badly when you got back home, ignoring the fact you walked into a conversation you already had. You let your hand touch the moss on the left side of the oak as a marker in your memory if it was truly tricking you.

As the hour passes, you rush to see beyond the oak tree and familiar trees. You just needed a landmark to find it to draw, and you would head back. It didn’t need to be so confusing. You walk past the oak tree to the sea of timber to find a boring environment again, no trail to have your eyes look down to or rocks to stumble on, as you see the sparkles of light and birds resting in branches above. Your focus again relaxed even with your sharp mind, and your eyes glance down to your shoes again.

Your eyes look at your laces as you walk forward in routine. You took a deep breath as you tried to calm the nerves building in your body, and as you looked up, it felt like it shot whatever efforts you made to soothe yourself. You still your movements to the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.

Again, the pale-barked tree with lime leaves stares back at you on the curve of the trail. You didn’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.

You walked straight past the oak tree, glancing behind the birch tree to peek at the fat tree standing in the background of the plane. Then, you closed your eyes slowly.

Your lower lip quivers as your eyebrows furrow, and your teeth catch your salty lip. You swallow the spit collecting in your cheeks, holding a cry in your throat—a big drop of sweat rolls down your neck from the back of your head.

Why are you so emotional right now?

Why does it feel pointless? All of it. The trail, the map, the fucking point of trying to find a way out. It felt like everything was up against you, and you know rationally that it was mostly true.

You weren’t going to help anything. You are not fit enough to go more than a mile before you get tired, and you can’t help but get lost.

It’s a trail in the ground. How could you get turned around in circles?

Halting in your tracks, you covered your tear-covered eyes as watery tears ran down your cheeks, mixing with your sweat.

You don’t know what to do.

“Dad would know what to do. He knew what to do for everything out here.” You thought as your lip curls in a deep frown, pushing down a sob to the bottom of your stomach.

You wanted to hit yourself on the side of your head, and you wanted to scream into the bright green leaves that looked down at you with indifference.

You didn’t listen to your dad about everything. You wanted to hit yourself for every time you didn’t listen, and you didn’t care about what he was saying, didn’t absorb everything he gave you so lovingly. You wanted to crawl into his arms and be rocked like you were as a child. You wanted to feel the safety of his strong chest and arms around you. You are never going to feel it again.

The river ran down your cheeks as your feet started to march forward.

You felt stupid. Ashamed somehow. And overwhelmingly devastated.

It was fucking hotter than hell outside.

You slap your hand that covers your eyes to your side. You look down at your shoes, walking through the dry grass and dirt. You say to yourself, as you hiccup a cry, “This sucks.”

As you expected, you look to find the brown curvy tree again. You stop again as you wipe away the sweat from your brow and the wetness collecting at your upper lip. A breeze gracefully brushes against your back.

You sigh as you focus on yourself again. You wipe your face again with your black crop top and wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. You walked on. It felt like you were walking into a wall and expecting something different.

As you walk forward, you look at the oak tree, which is mossy and dominates the right side of the plant. This made you pause again this morning. As you stared at the tree, you wanted to pull your hair from the roots.

Wasn’t the moss on the left side?

You couldn’t be mistaken. You knew this tree. It’s the tree you slept under when the aftermath cuddled beside Jackie and Shauna. It was the tree you collected kindling for your first fire out here. The moss was on the left.

You fucking touched it, for god sake. You are not crazy.

Why is it now on the right?

You put your hand on the mossy side as you walked past it not even 15 minutes ago. You don’t know how you could have been turned around from looking down at your feet. It was in the direction you left from; it was on the left, not the right.

You threw your hands up in defeat, and a dry laugh came from your throat, tears streaming down again. You were too hot to think straight, but you felt an itch in your skin. You were so confused.

You walk towards the right side, lift your leg over a thorny bush, and start walking forward.

It wasn’t like it was before. It was a rocky and uneven terrain that made your aching feet uncomfortable. The crowd of trees was as it always was. You hiccuped at the end of your cries.

You stumble on a sharp rock, fall forward, and catch yourself with your knees and elbows on the grass.

You hiss a moan of pain, and you sit up on your knees. You wipe dirt and blades of grass from your elbows. You look back up to the dark branch scars of the single birch tree at the curve in the trail.

You didn’t cry this time as you stood up. You sniffled and looked on with fear. You are losing it. Maybe you're having heatstroke?

The birch tree with lime leaves and eyes staring down at you with almost a mocking laugh. You felt a scowl grow on your lip as you walked forward stubbornly. You just fucking can’t understand.

You think for a moment and can’t remember this strange birch tree. You don’t remember when you and Taissa found the lake, and you don’t even remember a curve in the trail. You thought birch trees grow in their groves and asexually sprout saplings around themselves. Sure, the seeds could have been eaten and taken to this specific spot, but not a single seedling for an adult healthy tree made no sense.

Nothing fucking made sense.

You find yourself in front of the oak tree again, almost dizzy from the turning around you have done today. The sun's heat beats on the crown of your head, and you feel a boiling sensation. You stare down at the bark of the oak, seeing the moss collect on the left side as it always has.

It was like the trees were messing with you and laughing. The leaves stare down at you with a snicker on their lips.

“Fuck it.” You spat out in frustration. You didn’t stop your leg kicking out to the tree, kicking the moss. The growth softly lands on the sole of your shoe and the tow box of your beaten shoes. You give up. “I don’t get it.” You say to yourself as a breeze comes over your burning face.

You turn around and see the curve of the birch tree move. You pause again as you look on, glaring at the change. You are paranoid.

The tree’s bark and scars moved in front of your eyes, and the curve on the side of the wood slinked into what seemed like a feminine hip.

You feel like you weren’t in your body as you wanted the tree morph in front of you. It completely moved two smaller scars to the center eye level to you, and it seemed to slowly open one of the scars like someone waking up from a deep sleep.

(Y/e/c) flashes in the new pocket as you feel your body launch back to the trail, running back to the cabin. You felt a scream rip out of your lip as you ran past the tree with a chill tickling your spine.

And you ran.

You look behind yourself to see a sapling next to the birch tree. It looked like a woman with her arms above her head, and what could have been hair stood up tall, her fingers connecting with her hair with leaves and seeds dancing. The body curves and leans to the side as if it looks at you running away with a studying eye.

You don’t look back after that. You stumble and panic your way through the sunsetting light. You felt unaware tears spilling as you tried to stay straight on the trail.

The sun was set when you reached the cabin, and the stars shone brightly above you. Time must have escaped you like your sanity. You puff out the pants of breath you had, and you can’t help yourself from feeling exhausted.

Natalie and Shauna sat at the porch steps waiting for you, the spring from their spot as they heard your footsteps.

“Oh my god, (y/n)!” “Dude! I said sunset! We were about to go out to look for you!”

You pant as you come to the two girls. They grab your sweaty form, and you look down to the ground as a sharp breath travels down your throat. You wanted to vomit how much you were exerting yourself. You knew you couldn’t tell the truth; they didn’t need to know how bad you were getting.

“I’m so sorry! I fell asleep and woke up, and I rushed back! Am alright, just fucking ran like hell.”

Shauna chuckles and punches your arm harshly, “You could have been hurt! Of course, you were just napping!”

Natalie shook her head softly at the confession and chuckled, but her eyes remained stern. " You can’t be trusted alone anymore. I have to babysit you because you need your baby naps.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You huffed in your still panting breath. You point your middle finger at Natalie as the two laugh, pulling you towards the cabin. Something bothers your foot inside your shoe, making you want to kick it off.

You follow them without a fight, and a growl in your stomach loudly grumbles as you enter the cabin. Most of the others were in their sleeping bags and makeshift beds on the ground of the living space, some in the kitchen.

Misty sits up from her spot and whispers, “Is (y/n) back?”

“Yeah, she's here. All's good.” Shauna says to Misty as she walks past you to the kitchen. “I’m getting your dinner.”

“Me too.” Natalie says as she follows behind Shauna with a concerned face.

Misty sits down with a big smile and says, “I’m happy you're back, (y/n).”

“Thank you.” You say to her without smiling, moving yourself to your bags.

You wanted to peel the sticky fabric off your body, completely change every piece of clothing you had, and take another bath.

“Is she back?” You heard Coach Scott ask the girls in the other room with sleep in his voice. There was a conversation you would hear, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to listen to. You wanted to lay down on your pillow.

It seemed well past 10 while everyone took a rest. You couldn’t wrap your head around how what felt like a 3-hour journey into an 11-hour one. You didn’t have the energy to care much, though. As you pulled your shoe from your foot, a pile of moss stumbled out from the inside, littering your sock with small moss fur.

You throw your shoe to the side, rip your sock off, and moss is even between your toes.

You stood up, disgusted and anxious. You pulled your crop top off, wanting to shred every piece of the day away. Then, you pulled a long pink shirt from your jean shorts, and lime-colored leaves fell inside your clothes.

The birch tree leaves.

You look down at the floor beside your feet at the pile of leaves and moss all around you as if you rolled around in the earth. You looked at your hands to find dirt under your nails as if you were digging for roots.

“(Y/n)?”

You turn your head sharply at Jackie. She lays beside your makeshift bed and looks up at you with big eyes. “Are you okay, (y/n)? You seem spazzed out.”

You shook your head and said, “I think I started my period, and I am covered in dirt.”

She chuckled and said, “That sucks, okay! I freak out every time I bleed out here.”

You nodded your head with a chuckle, lost in your own head, “Yeah, now I have to clean-“

When you look down at the ground, you see only a birch leaf and moss fur.

“I have to clean myself.” You finish your sentence, and you rub your eyes. “I think the heat is getting to me, too.”

“It’s okay! Lay under the window.” Jackie smiles as if she solved the problem and closes her eyes.

You were going fucking crazy.

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist ❀

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sos-gone-deeper · 20 days ago

Text

I Could Be A Good Mother (Travis Martinez x Reader) (Part 2)

Your confidant is working hard to make sure you and the baby are doing okay. But the girls can see that something is up, and the truth will always come out.

Part 1 | Part 3

Notes:

- Fem!reader

- Talk of abortion (but not really in this chapter), pregnancy, etc.

- Javi doesn't run away, nor does he die

- Takes place during the first winter

-------------------------------------

That night, Travis was tossing and turning in his makeshift bed. He just couldn't get you off his mind. When he finally did sleep, he dreamt of something he never thought he would.

There he was, in a big, warm house. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner, while he held a baby that looked almost identical to you. Music was playing, you were dancing, the baby was laughing, and Travis was simply admiring. There was no plane crash, no scars, no pain. It was a glimpse into the life that could've been.

He woke up from it slowly, trying as hard as he could to hold onto it. He found himself pretty shocked. Whether it was your confession, or his infatuation with you, or both, he had never dreamt of you before, especially in such a teeth rotting-ly sweet way.

Nat was sound asleep across from him, but before he woke her up for their hunting expedition, he crept over to your spot in between Akilah and Lottie. You were sound asleep, wearing a beat up hoodie, and your nose was red at the tip where the winter cold was getting to it. He vaguely worried about you getting frostbite.

"Travis?" Natalie's raspy voice said from across the room.

"Hey." He said, walking to the clothes pile and grabbing a coat. "Hunting time."

"It's still really dark out." Nat said. She fumbled for her watch. 5:00 am. Normally they didn't leave until 7, the earliest.

"Well, we gotta find something. We can't just starve in here."

Travis was already on the porch, suited up, loading his gun when Natalie came out, still tugging her coat on.

"Seriously, Travis, what's with you?" When he didn't respond, Natalie grabbed his arm, making him look at her.

"We have like 20 people in there, starving, or pregnant, or both, fucking withering away." He spat out. Nat flinched back, confused on why he was suddenly so worried. "And I'm not gonna let them die because I can't find a damn deer while being in the middle of the woods."

"Fine," Nat said, "Then let's go."

You stirred around the same time as most of the girls. The weather had really gotten to you all, almost everyone rousing when it has already been bright out for at least an hour.

You were immediately looking for Travis, before remembering that he and Nat woke up earlier to go out hunting. You had no clue how long they'd been gone at all, but they normally arrived back as the sun was mostly up.

You changed your hoodie, facing away from everyone so your small but still protruding stomach wasn't in sight. Javi walked past you, grabbing a knife to do some carving, a hobby he'd picked up when the pad of paper you'd given him and Shauna's extra notebook had run out.

"Morning." You said to him, ruffling his bed head.

"Good morning." He replied, assuming his place in front of the fire.

A figure moving past the window prompted you to toss on a coat and step outside. There, slung over Travis and Natalie's shoulders, was a deer. You almost burst into tears then and there, desperate to eat something other than Mari's belt soup.

"Good morning, breakfast is served." Travis proudly said, gesturing to the deer in front of them. Nat looked very confused, but said nothing.

After Shauna had properly butchered it and cooked it over the fire, everyone started to get their portion. Travis stood watch, making sure everyone would have a decent amount.

"What the fuck?" Mari exclaimed, watching you pile food onto a cracked and old plate. "Save some for the rest of us, maybe?"

"You already got your food, Mari." Travis said, standing up taller. Mari looked down at her plate in silence.

"Oh, since when do you give a fuck about food portions, Travis? You got a big deer, so why are you acting like it's not enough? What's going on?" Melissa added, crossing her arms.

Travis looked at you. He knew he couldn't say it, but he was hoping you would.

And you did.

"I'm pregnant."

Everyone stared. Not even Misty was happy the way she was when Shauna announced her pregnancy. You heard Coach Ben let out a sigh.

"No you're not!" Mari said. "You're just saying that so you can get more food! We're all hungry, I get it, but don't lie to us."

"I'm not." You said, feeling yourself start to tear up. Travis was looking at you, eyes full of worry. "I just- I didn't want to cause problems. And then Shauna told you guys, and... I-I just didn't want to upset anyone."

"What the fuck, Y/N." Natalie said. She looked accusingly at Travis. "Did you know about this? Is this why you dragged me out this morning?"

"You know what? Maybe it is." Travis' voice boomed over the girls. "No one said shit to Shauna, even thought it's her best friends boyfriend baby. I mean really, but now it's a problem? Do you think Y/N wants a baby in this mess?"

No one responded. You found yourself staring at the ground.

"Exactly. So suck it up." Travis pivoted to Natalie. "And fine. Don't come out with me anymore. I can hunt alone."

The food was eaten in silence. Travis was on one side of you, afraid the girls would steal off your plate, and Javi on the other side, silent over your confession.

"Boy or girl?" He finally piped up.

"What?" You asked, mouth full of meat.

"Do you know? If it's a boy or girl?"

"I wish." You admitted, smiling slightly. "I don't know, but I hope it's a girl."

"I hope it's a boy." Javi said. Travis leaned over and nudged his knee almost scoldingly.

"What?" Javi squeaked out. "It would be like having a little brother."

"Yeah, I guess it would be." You said, smiling at Travis. He always felt annoyed when Shauna talked about her baby, but now that it was you doing it, he had the overwhelming urge to wrap you up and take you away from this fucking cabin.

As Travis ate, he found himself picturing the baby. You wanted a girl? Fine, he was already imagining a smiling little girl with her mom's eyes beaming up from his arms.

You were right when you assumed no one would give you the same attention as Shauna. You didn't get a baby shower, and you didn't get doted on by the girls, asking how you were or if you needed anything.

In the fall, this would've freaked you out. But now, with Travis, you felt okay. You felt like as long as you had him on your side, you'd be fine. He was certainly pulling his weight, waking up early to get you food, giving you his extra clothes to keep warm at night, and taking it upon himself to move your bed closer to the fire. You'd never felt so appreciated before, silently wishing Travis could be the father instead of fuckface back home, who was probably already moved onto another girl.

But it wasn't like the girls were entirely shunning you. As you trekked back to the cabin with Van, both of you assigned to dumping the shit bucket and the guts from the past few deer, Van suddenly stopped.

"You okay?" You asked, setting your bucket down.

"I'm fine. I just- before we get back. I have to talk to you."

Fuck.

"What's up?" You said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You knew you shouldn't be afraid. You and Van had been pretty close before the crash, but now she was wrapped up in Taissa.

"You know, everyone's only being nice to Shauna because of Jackie." You flinched at the name. Oh, how you missed your team captain. You knew she would've understood.

"Oh." You whispered, not knowing what to say.

"And we don't hate you. Or at least, I don't hate you. It's just scary."

A scoff slipped past your lips. "How do you think I've been feeling? The only person I could tell was Travis."

"Yeah, what's going on with that?" Van said, dropping her bucket too. "Is he the father, or something?"

"No," You said quickly. "It's Andrew. You know, from back home." (I just made up a name for your boyfriend so let's all roll with it)

"Well, damn." Van said. "How did he feel?"

"He was pissed. Didn't even ask how I am or how I feel." You found yourself opening up to the scarred redhead in front of you.

"Well, you have me. And Travis, clearly. And Javi."

You giggled, thinking of Javi making the doll for Shauna. What a sweet boy. "Yeah, bless his heart."

"Let's get back." Van said, picking up both of the buckets.

When you got back, you were shivering from the cold winter air and exhausted from the walk to the cliff. Travis pulled a blanket over you, the two of you being the only ones in the attic. You wanted a nap, a quiet one.

"I talked to Van today." You said. Travis sat down next to you.

"Oh yeah? About what?"

"Just everything." You found yourself already fighting sleep, eyes feeling heavy. "She said no one's mad at me. That they're just being sweet to Shauna because of Jackie."

Travis scoffed. "Yeah, but you're both in the same boat right now. It wouldn't kill them to be nice to you."

Silence enveloped the two of you, only broken by the girls' chatter downstairs and the creak of the cabin doors. You closed your eyes, but Travis must've assumed you had them closed longer. He went to stand, but while on his knees he said, "Goodnight, Y/N".

You were going to mumble back a response, but before you could, Travis pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

As he creaked his way down the attic steps, you smiled to yourself, feeling the warmest you had in weeks.

---

I've been cooking these up at lightning speed, not sure what's possessing me to do so. But I hope you guys enjoy!!

#akilah yellowjackets #jackie taylor #mari ibarra #misty quigley #natalie scatorccio #shauna shipman #taissa turner #travis martinez #van palmer #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #travis martinez x reader

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delayeddrabbles · 1 month ago

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eat the rich - fwb!oc and frat!rafe (s3 based) - masterlist

summary: Ward Cameron is dead and noone but Rafe seems to give a shit. Rose ships him off to college without another word and he weasles his way into a frat mid-semester. Still grieving Ward, still untangling himself from Sofia, still adjusting to the world of treasure and power and real estate, he needs something to shake this weight off his shoulders. Natalie Chen is a "serial academic" and a stubborn socialist who refuses to graduate and go out into the real world. too afraid to not live up to the rest of her picture-perfect family. after a bad experience at one of the frat parties, Nat's long term relationship breaks down and her sex life is non-existent until she becomes study partners and friends with Rafe. when rafe finds out about what happened at the frat party everything shifts.

a/n: this is not my most aesthetically pleasing serie but i really love Nat and Rafe and the different dynamic they bring. A bit more partners in crime. a bit more tomboy than some of the other fics i've seen. I enjoy where the plot is going and the darkness and messiness to it. this will contain some toxicity and violence. it'll be a mix of prose and SMAU.

headcanons/moodboards (nat here and ship hcs here)

vibes/aesthetics - tag: eat the rich, rafe x nat, nat coded, college gf

series:

chapter 1: empty streets

flashback: florida part 1 (smau)

flashback: florida part 2 (smau)

chapter 2: empty streets

chapter 3: pink ribbons

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be-missed · 2 years ago

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Not Strong Enough (Chap 1)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(Pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: Probably mentions of kniv3s and blad3s or any surgical equipment. A few curse words as of now.

A/N: So plan on making a series, I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to say any promises. Hope you enjoy the story!

Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

"Mom said I should drop by the hospital and bring the pizza she ordered earlier." Jenna yelled to her family while going down their front door.

"Okay sweetheart, you take care and kiss your mother for me" her dad said while blowing Jenna a kiss.

Starting the car and connecting her bluetooth, now she is ready to drive. As the traffic lights hit red, she remembered that one of her friend recommended her a song to listen to, and she played it as the light turn to green.

Humming to the addicting beat of the song, she now try to find an empty parking lot at the hospital, which is a difficult task to do by the way, a heavy amount of people comes and goes, and some that probably stayed.

Jenna almost passed a white civic that left the spot as she sigh, now this is the hardest part, harder than finding a parking lot, is to park the car itself, she is having a hard time since she is used to her mom beside her and helping her to look at the back. But she needs to be a big girl now and do this.

A minute or so have passed and Jenna congratulated herself by parking her car so good that it follows the line and got the sides an equal space. She picks her phone up and messaged her mom that she's going up to her.

While walking through the lobby of the hospital, she noticed that some people are occupied to not notice her which she is thankful since she doesn't want to have a crowd and some people looked at her and she smiled politely at them. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the close button so fast so that nobody can be with her inside it.

Humming with the elevator music, floors passes by and the doors open with a ding, walking through the same designed hallway makes her remember that scene from her old movie scream. As she reached the reception like part of the floor, she smiled brightly and tried to ask one of the nurse that was standing beside the desk.

"Uhm hey, excuse me.." Jenna started but got cut-off when the nurse got called in the surgery room for extra hands, so what she did next is to ring the table bell to attract some attention that she needs to find her mom.

"Hello, how can I help you?" a woman appeared from the back room with the brightest smile she could ever see.

Stagnant. Freeze. Stop. Pause.

That was what Jenna like for a second, and the person standing opposite to her started to panic "Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?" Y/N stated.

"Oh.. I... I need my mom." Jenna stated while trying to compose herself "Uhm, no, I mean... Yes, yes I need my mom."

The woman in front of her gives her a questionable look... "Miss I don't know who your mom is, may I know her name so I can help you find her?" Y/N stated.

Well, Y/N knows, she definitely knows who is this girl in front of her, holding 3 large pizza boxes, this woman who is slightly smaller than her, has this wonderful freckles that painted her face, who have this deep dimple on her cheek, a wavy black hair and this cute bangs. Oh, definitely she is familiar with the woman in front of her.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm here for Natalie Ortega, she works here." Jenna stated while smiling. Damn it, did she really just froze there and told this beautiful lady that she needs her mom. She noted to herself that she needs to practice on how to stay cool and not to lose her rizz when she faces a beautiful women.

"Nat? Your mom is Natalie" The woman in front of her looks like a light bulb appeared above her head "I think she's inside the surgery helping Dr. Ava, but let me go to the surgery room, I let her know that you are here." Y/N stated while going to the other side of the desk where Jenna is.

"Oh, you don't need to, I can just wait for her." Jenna said while trying to hold the 3 large pizza boxes.

Y/N shakes her head and said "It's okay, I need to actually do something, I've been sitting there for so long my feet might forget how to walk if I didn't stand." with a little laugh at the end. She know think "Nice what a lame joke."

"Well, thank you, these pizza boxes is getting heavier" Jenna said and Y/N helped her to put it on top of the desk.

Fingers brushed, eyes locked, and lips started to curl.

"Well uhm... may I know your name?" Y/N asked the girl in front of her.

Then Jenna thinks "wow this pretty girl is so into me, she wants to know my freaking name." Jenna was so proud of herself she accidentally said "Why? So you could add me to the blank space on your list?" with a slight wiggle of her brows and a little smirk.

Y/N looked at Jenna and was stunned with what the girl said, Y/N thinks "did she just flirt with me? I mean, can it be? Or am I just delusional?" Y/N composes herself and replied "Well, I need to know your name since I need to tell her that her daughter is here, right?"

"Ground, swallow me please oh please" with that reply Jenna just wants to be swallowed by the ground where she stood way down below where her parked car is. SHE THOUGHT WRONG.

Jenna tried to just laugh it off and answered "I'm Jenna, Jenna Ortega" and offers her hand.

"I'm Dr. Y/L/N, I'm a resident surgeon here. So you can seat by the waiting area and I'll go to your mom and tell her that her daughter needs her." Y/N said and winked at Jenna and started to walk to to the surgery room.

Jenna walked to the row of chairs and started to cringe at herself from the inside. She fished out her phone and texted Aliyah:

To Aliyah:

I met this cute doctor and my mind just went blank. WTF!

Fr Aliyah:

Well having no love life really has a side effect, lol.

To Aliyah:

You know what, you are not helping at all, BYE!

Fr Aliyah:

WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?

To Aliyah:

IDK maybe comfort me? I'm your sister after all.

Fr Aliyah:

Just deliver the damn pizza and go home so you can tell me all

To Aliyah:

I will, when mom gets out, bye, love you.

Fr Aliyah:

Love you too, stay safe!

Jenna turns her phone off and was surprised with Y/N standing in front of her.

"What the hell, you could have given me a heart attack." Jenna said while holding her chest.

"That's good, you are in a hospital, in front of you is a doctor, we are surrounded by our lovely nurses, you will live if ever that happened" and Y/N gave her a cheeky smile.

"Geez thanks doc" Jenna answered sarcastically with a smile "Where is my mom then?"

"Well your mom said she can't go out of the surgery room and told me to help you instead to bring the pizza boxes in the break room since you need a keycard to go in there." Y/N replied while showing her I.D.

Jenna nod and said "Lead the way then." and smiled.

While walking, Y/N is now holding the pizza boxes while Jenna strolled along beside her.

"Why did you not get my attention earlier when I was sitting and you were standing in front of me?" Jenna asked.

"You were smiling, and I thought may be you are talking to your boyfriend so I waited until you turn off your phone. I don't want to interrupt you know." Y/N answered.

Even if it is hard for her to think that Jenna have a boyfriend, she doesn't have the say when it comes to it.

"Okay. Then why is this the first time that I see you here? You said you were a resident yet I haven't seen you in my past visits?" Jenna asked, again.

Y/N replied "It's my third month here and maybe you just don't visit during my work time that's why we don't see each other."

Jenna nodded and accepted it as a valid reply.

Y/N opened taps her I.D and opened the door for Jenna to come in first "Here is the break room, and thank you for the pizza, I have been craving these for days, thank God Nat bought it for us."

"So, you and my mom are close huh?" Jenna asked again, which Y/N noticed.

"Well yes, she is approachable, sweet, and kind so, what's not to like about your mom." Y/N said with a smirk.

"Woah there, do you like my mom, just to inform you my dad and her is in a healthy relationship and we are a happy family." Jenna answered a bit annoyed. BECAUSE, why would you like her mom if she is literally in front of you. HELLO?! ARE YOU BLIND!?

"Hey, I didn't tell that I like your mom, I'm sorry if that's how you interpret it, she just makes me feel welcomed, okay? And your mom is pretty, but I like someone, yeah?" Y/N replied but inside her head, its is all "IT IS YOU, YOU DUMBASS, I LIKE YOU NOT YOUR MOM."

"Okay, I'm sorry too, I just get defensive when it comes to my family." Jenna smiled .

"Well if that is all that you need, then we finished our task. I also need to go back there, I have a surgery in 30 minutes." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Sure, I'm sorry for holding you off." Jenna said while they go out of the room.

Walking back, Y/N didn't stopped by the reception and accompanied Jenna to the elevator.

Y/N broke the silence and took Jenna's arm which she was surprised while Y/N scribbled on her skin.

The elevator dinged which indicated that Jenna needs to go.

"See you around Jen!" Y/N stated while she rushed off.

Jenna was so baffled with the action and just waved, as the elevator door close, she lifts her long sleeves and saw a note

"My number, just in case you have more questions."

In Jenna's head "DID SHE JUST GAVE ME HER NUMBER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" and smiled to herself.

She is now determined to go to the hospital more to visit her mom and a side quest to see you.

______________________________________________________________

Chap 2 A/N: Well I think that was a long one. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the story and hope you wait for the next chapters!

#jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #NotStrongEnough #fiction #fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader

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xoln04f1xo · 1 month ago

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Chapter 1: Blood and Burnt Sage - The Monaco night air is thick with secrets. Charles Leclerc stands atop the podium, champagne in hand, but his eyes seek out the shadow in the crowd only he can see. You, a witch hidden beneath glamour, clutch a vial of protective herbs. Your relationship is a secret too volatile to be known.

Chapter 2: Black Veins and Red Flags - During practice laps in Barcelona, Charles nearly crashes after a burst of uncontrolled bloodlust. You're in the motorhome, frantically tracing a protective sigil, knowing his hunger is growing. The paddock can't know what he is.

Chapter 3: Lunar Secrets - You sneak into his hotel room under the cover of a full moon, performing a binding spell to keep his thirst at bay. He kisses you mid-incantation, desperate and dangerous. The moon sees all.

Chapter 4: Smoke and Mirrors - Team meetings become high-stakes performances. Your magic falters under pressure, and Charles’s eyes grow darker. Another witch has entered the paddock under the guise of a new PR rep. She knows what you are.

Chapter 5: Salt Circles and Strategy Calls - The new witch - Natalie - corners you in the paddock bathroom. Her warning is clear: stay away from the vampire or the humans will burn you both. Meanwhile, Charles wins pole but doesn't smile.

Chapter 6: Crimson Cravings - After a night race in Singapore, Charles loses control. You find him in an alley, mouth stained red. You heal the dying man, wipe the CCTV footage, and erase memories with a spell. Charles is horrified by what he’s done.

Chapter 7: Blood Bonds - You propose an ancient ritual: a blood bond that will keep his thirst tethered to you. Dangerous and irreversible, it ties your life force to his. He agrees, whispering that he'd rather burn than lose you.

Chapter 8: Ashes and Autographs - A fan touches Charles and recoils in horror - she’s an empath. Rumors begin to swirl. Natalie feeds the flames, and the FIA launches an "ethics investigation" into Charles’s "unexplained behaviour."

Chapter 9: Spellbound Pit Stops - During a chaotic race in Spa, your spell woven into Charles’s gloves falters. His reflexes go feral, inhuman. Cameras catch a blur that isn’t natural. You work overtime crafting an alibi spell to scrub the footage.

Chapter 10: The Witch Hunt Begins - A fire breaks out in the Red Bull motorhome. Natalie plants witchcraft evidence near your belongings. You’re interrogated. Charles uses ancient vampire persuasion to get you out, but now the paddock is watching.

Chapter 11: Sanctuary in Silverstone - You flee to an ancient druidic circle hidden beneath Silverstone’s old gravel paths. Charles follows, half-mad from thirst and stress. You perform a shadow ritual, drawing power from the Earth to stabilize him - but it costs you a piece of your soul.

Chapter 12: Coffins and Contracts - Charles is offered a renewal contract - but it requires signing a blood clause that would reveal his true nature. You try to intervene magically, but Natalie blocks your spell and reveals her own plan: she wants Charles for herself.

Chapter 13: Hexed Hearts - Natalie curses Charles before the Monza race. You race against time to break it. The ritual requires the sacrifice of your magic. You do it - Charles wins, but you collapse in the pit lane.

Chapter 14: The Price of Immortality - You’re comatose. Charles makes a deal with an ancient vampire lord - offering his loyalty in exchange for your life. You wake, powerless but alive. He’s colder now, ancient blood magic coiling around his aura.

Chapter 15: Love Like Fire, Love Like Blood - In Abu Dhabi, the season ends. The paddock buzzes with tension. You stand beside Charles on the rooftop of the Yas Hotel. The truth could end everything. But you choose each other again - witch and vampire, bound by blood, love, and the war that still brews in the shadows.

#f1 #x reader #cl16 x reader #f1 x reader #cl16 #vampire au #witchcraft

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nayziiz · 1 year ago

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No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

As the new F1 season begins, a wave of anticipation and excitement envelops both Natalie and Lando. For Lando, the racetrack is not just a place to showcase his driving prowess; it's a canvas where he paints his aspirations of success. The aspiration to perform consistently, stand atop the podium, and clinch victories symbolises his hunger for glory. This season represents a pivotal moment in his career, a chance to transcend from promising talent to a formidable force in Formula 1.

Lando's focus on consistent performance indicates a strategic approach to the season. He understands the importance of not just individual brilliance but also the need for a sustained effort across races. The podium is not merely a physical platform; it's a symbol of accomplishment and recognition. Standing there signifies that Lando has not only met but exceeded expectations. Each race becomes an opportunity for him to etch his name in the history of McLaren and Formula 1.

Meanwhile, for Natalie, the new season brings its own set of challenges and goals. Her role as Lando's PR Manager is not just about managing media interactions and public relations; it's about crafting and enhancing Lando's image both on and off the track. The challenge lies in maintaining a delicate balance between showcasing Lando's personality and ensuring a positive public perception.

However, Natalie's ambitions reach beyond the immediate season. She envisions herself as more than just a PR Manager; her goal is to ascend to the position of managing the entire McLaren F1 team. This aspiration reflects not only her confidence in her abilities but also her commitment to the long-term success of the team. Solidifying her role with Lando is a stepping stone toward greater responsibilities within the McLaren organisation.

“I haven’t seen Lucas around. Is he still coming to watch the race?” Lando innocently asks Natalie as they sit in his driver’s room with Lando signing caps and other McLaren merchandise.

“I doubt it.” Natalie responds, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. How come?” Lando asks, confused.

“We broke up.” Natalie informs him as she hands him the next batch of caps to sign.

“When did that happen? He didn’t mention anything to me.” Lando continues to pry.

“After Christmas.” Natalie bluntly answers.

Lando's signature hand pauses mid-air as he processes Natalie's revelation. The room, once filled with the mechanical hum of the race cars outside, now echoes with the weight of unexpected news. His innocent inquiry unravels a personal chapter that Natalie had kept tightly closed for months.

The dynamics between Lando and Lucas had always been a delicate balance, their interactions shaped by a shared connection with Natalie. While Lando and Lucas managed to find common ground and form a semblance of friendship, the undercurrent of tension remained, fueled by Lando's observations of how Lucas treated Natalie during her first season with McLaren the year prior.

Natalie had been the bridge between the two, her professional role demanding a level of collaboration between her boyfriend and the driver she worked with. Lando, appreciating the importance of maintaining a harmonious team atmosphere, tried to put aside his personal reservations for the sake of professionalism. However, it wasn't easy for him to look past Lucas's treatment of Natalie.

Lando, inherently protective of those close to him, struggled to like Lucas when he witnessed moments of disrespect or insensitivity toward Natalie. It wasn't just about professional courtesy; it was a matter of personal values. Lando valued the people around him, especially those who supported him in various capacities, and seeing someone mistreat Natalie sparked a sense of loyalty and concern.

In those moments, Lando found himself grappling with the conflict between friendship and principle. While he maintained a civil demeanour and tried to foster a positive atmosphere with Lucas, there were times when he couldn't suppress his disapproval of Lucas's behaviour. The struggle to balance his personal feelings with the need for a cohesive team dynamic presented an ongoing challenge for Lando.

Natalie, caught in the middle, appreciated Lando's support but also urged him to prioritise the professional environment. She understood the complexities of the situation and attempted to keep the personal and professional spheres separate. However, the tension lingered, adding an additional layer of complexity to the dynamics within the McLaren team.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” Lando says, the tone of his voice now tinged with concern. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awkwardness settling in the room. The merchandise, once a simple part of race day preparations, now carries an unexpected emotional weight.

Natalie maintains her focus on the merchandise, her eyes fixed on the caps as she avoids direct eye contact with Lando. The revelation casts a subtle shadow over the room, and she is determined to carry on with their professional tasks, steering clear of the personal. Lando, however, can't let it go

“After Christmas? Why didn't you tell me?” Lando asks, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

“Honestly, I was just trying to keep my head above water.” Natalie confesses, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and resilience. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Remember, we dated before I moved to the UK. We lived together, so I had to get my own place and move all my stuff."

Lucas, her high school sweetheart, had been her anchor for six years. Their journey had taken them from South Africa to the UK, where Natalie pursued her studies and Lucas secured a job opportunity in London. He was more than just a partner; he represented home, stability, and a significant chapter of her life.

Despite the duration of their relationship and the shared history, Natalie found herself in a place of grief. The breakup marked the end of a long-standing connection, and the process of disentangling their lives proved to be a challenging and emotional endeavour. Lucas had been her constant, her support system, even if it came at a cost.

Lucas's treatment toward Natalie painted a stark contrast to the nostalgia that might have lingered in her heart. The emotional toll of being screamed at, called names, and enduring his disdain for her job added a layer of complexity to the grieving process. Despite the toxicity, the familiarity of their history made it difficult for Natalie to sever those emotional ties completely.

Lando, now privy to the depths of Natalie's experience, feels a surge of empathy and concern. He realises that her grief wasn't solely about the end of a romantic relationship but also the dismantling of a life she had built with someone who, at one point, had been her everything.

Lucas merely befriended Lando with ulterior motives as to ensure nothing would ever foster emotionally between Lando and Natalie because of their close working relationship. Lando, who had tried to maintain a friendship despite his reservations about Lucas's treatment of Natalie, now grapples with a newfound understanding of the underlying dynamics.

“You should have told me, then I could have helped you.” Lando mumbles, his eyes convey a mixture of regret and genuine concern .

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?” Natalie, ever resilient, responds with a subtle smile.

“Nattie, seriously. Are you OK?” Lando genuinely asks, his voice reflecting a sincerity that transcends their professional relationship.

“I’m better now.” Natalie assures him, her small smile carrying a hint of gratitude.

The acknowledgment of Lando's concern created a bridge between them, a reminder that beyond the race strategies and public relations duties, they were individuals navigating the complexities of life.

Lando's soft spot for Natalie had been evident from the very beginning, stretching back to her first day at the McLaren Technology Centre over a year ago. There was something about her kindness, dedication, and unwavering support that resonated with him. As they travelled the globe together for races, a bond formed, rooted in mutual respect and trust.

The introduction to Lucas after the first race of the previous season brought about a different dynamic. Lando, despite his efforts to maintain harmony, couldn't comprehend the connection between Natalie and Lucas. They seemed like polar opposites, and Lucas's penchant for criticising Natalie's work only deepened Lando's reservations.

Despite his disapproval, Lando tried to bridge the gap by inviting Lucas out, attempting to understand the dynamics of their relationship. However, in those moments, he couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie deserved better. Lucas's possessive and objectifying attitude towards Natalie grated on Lando's sensibilities, making him acutely aware of the stark difference in how they viewed and treated her.

Lando grappled with the discomfort of witnessing someone he considered a friend be treated in such a way. The distaste for Lucas's disrespectful remarks and possessive demeanour fueled an internal conflict, as Lando navigated the fine line between maintaining professional courtesy and expressing his concern for Natalie.

Despite his observations, Lando refrained from explicitly sharing his thoughts with Natalie. He respected her independence and knew she was capable of making her own decisions. Yet, he held onto the hope that she would see Lucas for who he truly was - and she finally did. The news of Natalie ending things with Lucas brought a sense of relief to Lando. He felt genuinely happy for her, recognizing that she could now move forward with her life unburdened by a toxic relationship.

“Anyway, enough about me” Natalie states, her tone lightening. “Did a special lady pop up since I last saw you?”

“Nope. Still just me, myself, and I.” Lando chuckles in response, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“The fans are going to have a field day knowing you're still single.” Natalie playfully adds.

“I'm happy to be single until I find someone who ticks all the boxes.” Lando, unbothered, responds with a confident grin.

Lando reassuringly squeezes Natalie’s shoulder before he hurries off to speak with his race engineer. Natalie takes a seat behind the screens and pops on a headset as she watches replays of qualifying the day before. The ambient sounds of the garage, a mix of distant engine roars and muffled conversations, create a dynamic backdrop to the focused atmosphere.

With the headset snugly in place, Natalie's attention sharpens on the screens in front of her. The glow illuminates her face as she immerses herself in the detailed analysis of the team's performance during the qualifying session. The occasional chatter over the headset and the intermittent sounds of tools and equipment being handled blend into a rhythmic symphony, underscoring the team's preparation for the imminent race.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Congratulations, Lando, on a great race today. What does this mean for the rest of the season?” The enthusiastic interviewer asks Lando.

“Appreciate it. Big shoutout to the McLaren crew for their grind during the winter break, putting together a solid car. We're still getting the hang of the new machine, but snagging second and fourth at the season kick-off is a promising start. Looking forward to unleashing this beast on the other tracks.” Lando explains, sweat dripping down his brow from the hot race he had just completed.

“You seemed to have a busy winter break. What, or who, do you think helped get you into a positive mindset coming into this season?” The interviewer continues.

“Honestly, just spending time with my family and friends was a great reminder to remain humble and appreciate the small moments in life. I lost my granddad over the winter break, so that kind of put things into perspective for me.” Lando answers, wiping away the sweat with a towel.

“And, no lucky lady to celebrate your P2 tonight?” The interviewer chuckles.

Natalie's gaze lifts to the interviewer, registering the conspicuous absence of sympathy in their response to Lando's revelation. The weight of the loss he had shared seemed to hang in the air, untouched by the expected words of condolence or empathy. Unsettled by the apparent oversight, Natalie decides to intervene, steering the conversation in a more considerate direction.

“That’s all we have time for, thank you.” Natalie declares - her tone firm - as she guides Lando away from the glaring cameras and back into the welcoming confines of the hospitality building. Lando, still processing the insensitive turn of the interview, quickened his pace to keep up with Natalie through the hallways. “Absolutely crass.”

“What’s that?” Lando questions, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“I sometimes forget how classless the media can be. Seriously, you disclose the fact that you lost your grandfather and she makes no effort to express her sympathy.” Natalie explains, her voice tinged with a blend of disappointment and protective concern for her driver.

The weight of recent events hung heavy on Natalie's heart as she made the journey to the UK to attend Lando's grandfather's funeral. Mere days after her breakup with Lucas, her own heartbreak was set aside as she prioritised being there for Lando and offering support to him and his grieving family. The bond with Lando's family had grown strong since she joined McLaren, with invitations to holiday events making her feel like an extended member of their close-knit circle.

Lando's family had always gone above and beyond to include her in their gatherings. The previous Easter weekend, when she couldn't travel back to South Africa to be with her own family, they had made her feel welcomed and loved. These gestures had forged a sense of belonging, making Lando's family an integral part of her life.

Sitting in the back of the church during the funeral, Natalie observed the waves of grief that swept over Lando and his family. Tears and sobs echoed in the sombre atmosphere as they mourned the loss of their beloved family member. Natalie, despite her own struggles and heartache, focused on providing the support that Lando and his family needed during this difficult time.

It was precisely the depth of this loss that left Natalie annoyed by the subsequent interviewer's callousness. The media had no idea how profoundly the death had rocked Lando's family, and their lack of empathy struck a nerve with Natalie. The disconnect between the public facade and the private grief was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by individuals in the public eye, and Natalie, protective of those she cared about, found herself grappling with a mix of emotions as she navigated the intricate tapestry of personal and professional relationships within the McLaren family.

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lando offers, attempting to console Natalie. “Like I said to her, it puts things in a different perspective.”

Natalie glances at Lando over her shoulder, and a sense of relief washes over her. His calm demeanour and understanding response reassure her. He doesn't seem upset by the insensitive question or the lack of empathy from the interviewer, giving Natalie a cue to let go of her annoyance. Natalie takes a deep breath, appreciating the support from Lando and the acknowledgment that some things are beyond their control.

- THAT NIGHT -

“It’s been a stellar start to the year and we’re looking forward to seeing where Lando and Oscar take McLaren this year. Here’s to a brilliant season.” Zak Brown declares with a smile as he raises his champagne flute for a toast at the McLaren start-of-the-season dinner.

The long table is filled with the McLaren team, a diverse group ranging from mechanics to engineers to marketing officials. Zak's words resonate, creating a moment of shared excitement and anticipation for the upcoming season. After the toast, the team engages in lively conversation and indulges in the dinner spread.

Seated between the two drivers, Natalie finds herself immersed in a discussion about a specific corner at the Bahrain Grand Prix, a topic that unites the trio. Lando, with a casual ease, rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair as he leans over to chat with Oscar. Natalie, sitting back, feels a sense of relaxation and peace. It's a stark contrast to the weeks of turmoil since her relationship ended. In the midst of her team, surrounded by people who share her passion for racing, Natalie rediscovers a familiar sense of joy and camaraderie.

“It was smooth. I don’t think I’ve taken that corner that well before.” Lando adds with a grin as he engages in conversation with his teammate.

Their camaraderie, evolving from being teammates to friends, is evident in their banter. The second season together has brought about a deeper understanding, and the shared experiences on the track have solidified their connection.

“Compared to DNFing last year, this was by far one of my favourite races yet.” Oscar comments, his enthusiasm evident in his words. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, he gets distracted by someone to his left, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Lando observes, his light nudge to Natalie's ribs coaxing a small smile from her.

“Just taking everything in. I missed this.” She explains, her gaze wandering across the lively scene around them.

“I suppose it helps not having someone constantly messaging you to find out what you’re doing.” Lando comments before realising the weight of his words.

“There is that too.” Natalie agrees, her chuckle carrying a hint of relief.

“I know it must be difficult, but I’m just glad you’ll be able to enjoy your life without feeling guilty.” Lando tells her, his eyes meeting hers. With a subtle gesture, he removes his arm from the back of her chair, proceeding to savour his dessert.

He had found her crying in the paddock one too many times last season to not be relieved about her leaving Lucas. Lando had been an inadvertent witness to the toll their relationship was taking on Natalie's mental health and self-esteem. He had seen the tears, heard the phone calls, and been privy to the distressing text messages. It was evident that the relationship had become a source of emotional strain and turmoil for her.

For Lando, seeing Natalie break free from the shackles of that tumultuous relationship was a cause for genuine happiness. He knew she deserved to live her life peacefully and without the heavy burden of regrets. The bond they shared within the McLaren family went beyond the racetrack; it extended into the realm of personal well-being. Lando, having witnessed Natalie's struggles, felt a profound sense of relief knowing that she could now move forward and find the tranquillity and happiness she deserved.

“And, for what it’s worth, you seem happier.” Lando adds, his genuine concern and care evident as he spoons a mouthful of Tiramisu into his mouth.

Natalie smiles in response, savouring a bite of her lemon cheesecake. The bond between her and Lando had been instantaneous when she started working for McLaren. Circumstances dictated their closeness as they spent more time together than with their own friends or family. Lando's visits home to his parents often included Natalie, who had no family or friends in the UK or Monaco until Lucas moved to the UK.

A shift occurred when Lucas moved to London, becoming a more constant presence in Natalie's life. She moved in with him, and the dynamic with Lando changed. Lucas's insecurity cast a shadow over her friendship with Lando, even though it was an integral part of her professional responsibilities to be by his side at races and media appearances. The relationship became stifling, with Lucas questioning Natalie's every move and decision. Lando, recognizing the toxicity of the situation, did his best to support Natalie and mitigate the escalating tensions.

“My parents are going to be in Jeddah next weekend. They’ve been dying to see you.” Lando tells Natalie.

“I’ve missed them so much.” Natalie admits with a genuine smile, the warmth of her emotions evident. “And, your sisters, of course.”

“They’re coming as well.” Lando adds, causing her smile to grow even bigger. The anticipation of reuniting with familiar faces, especially those who have become a second family to her, adds an extra layer of joy to the upcoming weekend.

As Lando and Natalie stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted them, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dinner venue. The decision to walk back to the hotel seemed like a natural extension of the camaraderie they shared, and the short distance only added to the appeal.

The city's evening lights painted a picturesque scene around them as they strolled along the illuminated streets. The ambient sounds of the city, a harmonious blend of distant traffic hums and the occasional laughter from nearby cafes, created a tranquil backdrop for their conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” Lando bluntly asks her.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, confused.

“What made you finally break up with him?” He clarifies.

“It was a series of things that happened leading up to Christmas. We obviously went home to celebrate Christmas with our families back home. I got him this stunning watch he had been raving over for months, gave it to him and he was so uninterested in it. I mean, I get it, tastes fade, but I spent quite a bit of money on it and he was so unappreciative of it. And, he literally gifted me a notebook set that he must have bought the day before, no thought whatsoever.” Natalie starts. “Then as we got back to the guesthouse after dinner, he started complaining that I spent all day on my phone and demanded to see who I was texting. So, I gave him my phone and, honestly, I still don’t quite know what he saw, but he threw my phone against the wall and it broke, obviously.”

“So, he was getting physically aggressive?” Lando asks.

“Very much. When I asked him why he threw my phone, he went on this tirade about how he knew I was cheating on him, blah, blah, blah, and before I knew it, I was shoved into a door. Bruised my arm pretty badly. And, that was it. I don’t think I ever felt that disgusted in my life. I took my stuff, drove back to my Mom’s and booked a flight back. Luckily I had a spare phone. And, when I got back to London, I started packing my stuff and then you let me know about your granddad, then I was on my way to you.” Natalie elaborates.

“I had no idea things got so out of hand.” Lando mutters as they continue to stroll at a leisurely pace towards the hotel.

“I should have ended things far sooner looking back.” Natalie comments as she shoves her hands into her jacket’s pockets.

The two continue to walk in silence, the weight of Natalie's revelation hanging in the air. Deep down, Lando's blood boils with a mixture of anger and frustration. The idea that Natalie had endured such emotional and physical trauma at the hands of someone who claimed to love her fills him with a sense of indignation.

As they navigate the quiet streets, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps is punctuated by the heavy thoughts that occupy their minds. Lando, usually so composed, finds himself grappling with the harsh reality of Natalie's experiences.

“Just know that I’m here no matter what. If he even tries to contact you or anything, you let me know.” Lando blurts out.

“Thank you.” Natalie shyly agrees as he pulls her under his arm.

In that moment, their protectiveness for each other takes on a new level. The unspoken understanding between them solidifies into a spoken promise of support and vigilance. Lando's words carry a weight of sincerity, a commitment to stand by Natalie's side through whatever challenges may arise.

Their bond, forged through shared experiences and a genuine friendship, becomes a fortress against the trials of life. They have each other's backs, ready to go to battle if it means preserving the other’s sanity. The unyielding loyalty they share is a testament to the strength of their connection.

They make a formidable team, and in each other's company, they find solace, strength, and a profound understanding that transcends the confines of their roles within McLaren.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc

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imrowanartist · 2 months ago

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Shameless Self Promotion Saturday!

I was tagged by @thedissonantverses two weeks ago, but since I was on holiday I didn’t have time to post anything or make new stuff. But now I do! So here we go!

Just posted the first chapter of my new 5+1 series on AO3! It’s DavRook and will explore some moments between Davrin and Tamryn throughout the game. You can find it [here]

I’m also still running an expression challenge, for which you can find the rules here. It was paused for a little bit while I was on holiday, but I’ve been working on the next few asks since I’m back. You can find the finished expressions with #ro’s expression challenge 2025 (tagged at the bottom of this post as well)

Last but not least, please give my friend @redhairedmuses’s Rook some love! (Full art here) Lennox is an absolute sweetheart and the fic Natalie is writing about him and Davrin is going to be so good. I love making art of them for her <3

Tagging @redhairedmuses @tkwritesdumbassassins @ezriell @davrinsleftpectoral @rookanisstuff @mythals-whore @raccoon-is-my-spirit-animal and whoever else wants to join, consider yourself tagged by me!

#davrook #davrin #rook thorne #dragon age #Tamryn thorne #ro writes #ro’s art #ro’s expression challenge 2025

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invisible-pink-toast · 15 days ago

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holding on a long time

Lottielee Weekend 3, Day 1: Laura Lee at Lottie's Death

Chapters: 1/1 Relationships: Laura Lee/Lottie Matthews, Laura Lee & Lottie Matthews, Lottie Matthews & Callie Sadecki Additional Tags: Lottie Matthews death, Hurt/Comfort, Ghost Laura Lee (Yellowjackets), Unreliable Narrator, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon Typical Suicidal Tendancies, because lottie is Not Well Summary:

‘Oh, Lottie. What are you doing?’ Laura Lee asked. There was a glow coming from her. It was soft and lit up the space around her, but if Lottie looked too close, she could see flames and charred skin. ‘I’m trying to find him.’ Lottie said. Laura Lee looked sad, and knelt down beside Lottie. In the silence around them, there was a very faint baby cry from somewhere far away. ~ When Lottie dies, someone is waiting for her.

Read on AO3

Lottie had been waiting. She’d been waiting for so long.

The baby, he was supposed to be their salvation. Lottie had tried, she’d tried to get them to understand, she’d tried to offer sacrifice and prayers, but it wasn’t enough. And it came down to him or Shauna, and It chose. The baby’s blood was on the symbol and the baby’s still body was in Shauna’s arms and she’d screamed and sobbed and rocked him for days as the blizzard blew. But she was alive. It chose.

And Shauna grew into their leader. She helped Lottie connect to It again for the first time in months, and Lottie could feel It again and Shauna was crowned and they were all so alive. So free. So real.

Her will was Its will, and she vowed to follow It. The tunnels showed her It in Its purest form - the antlers, the veil, the truth.

It didn’t last.

Even in the end, after Natalie had used the radio, after the team all turned on each other, It was still in them. Shauna’s knife in Hannah’s skull, Tai’s axe in Gen’s back, Mari still between their teeth. They were connected. To each other, to something bigger. They brawled and bit and bruised, the snow was stained red - and they were the screaming echoing through the wilderness.

They acted separate after that, but the truth couldn’t be denied. They were the pack, they were the power that should be feared in these woods.

It didn’t matter that when the dust cleared Britt was dead on the ground, neck bent unnaturally. It didn’t matter that Lottie and Shauna were tied up in the animal pen. It didn’t matter that Akilah was lost to the tunnels and Travis was tied up to stop him from going in after her. It didn’t matter that Gen lost too much blood from her wounds, or that Robin cut her wrists that night and bled out in the snow. Nothing mattered anymore, couldn’t they see? They gave It what It wanted. It didn’t matter what happened to them here. There was so much more to come.

It would take time for the strangers to find them. The others buried the bodies. Tai’s plan for secrecy conflicted with Lottie wanting to share their truth - and the others agreed with Tai. They blamed Lottie for killing the researcher, were afraid she was a loose cannon. And in their fear and desperation, Jackie’s necklace was put around Lottie’s throat.

Finally.

Lottie would have submitted, but they wanted her to run. It’s easier to hunt something then to kill it in cold blood. Lottie wanted to stay here. Wanted to be a part of the wilderness, wanted to help her team and be honoured for it. But when she ran, a voice called to her from the cave.

A baby, crying.

Their baby.

And wouldn’t that fix everything? Shauna would be happy again, and everyone would have a purpose. They gave It what It wanted and they were rewarded. Their baby returned to them.

Lottie had followed the cries into the caves, followed it through the tunnels. But she couldn’t find him. He kept crying, and the tunnels kept going.

Lottie walked until her feet bled. She drank water from the cave walls. She slept fitfully on the rocks. She called for Akilah, hoping to find her, hoping she didn’t. Maybe she’d made it out, maybe It had already taken her. The baby still cried, and Lottie stumbled along, trying to find him. It was dark in the caves, she had no idea the time or day. She was so hungry. She was failing. She was alone. No visions came to her, no glimpse of the Wilderness’ divine form. No sign of Akilah, though she listened for her lost friend. Only the baby’s mournful cries..

Why couldn’t it be over? What was It’s plan for her?

After one disturbed sleep, Lottie couldn’t get up again. The baby's wailing was far off, haunting, but she couldn’t bring herself to stand. The rock was rough against her cheek, but it was grounding. Lottie stared out at the darkness. She’s not sure for how long. The sound of steps behind her should have frightened her, but that presence never could. Warmth, kindness, grace.

When Lottie opened her eyes, she was on the floor of the locker room. The room felt cold, even with the setting sun outside casting a sort of glow across the space. They must’ve finished practice late. All around her girls were changing from their blue uniforms back into casual clothes. There were cleats being shoved into bags, towels thrown in the hamper. But no noise. Their mouths were moving, the locker doors were slamming shut - but it was all silent. The girls paid no attention to her, and one by one began to leave. It wasn't the whole team though, the only ones here were…

Oh.

Akilah. Robin. Gen. Britt. Mari. Crystal. Jackie. Rachel.

Laura Lee stopped beside Lottie, looking down at her, the locker room now empty besides them.

‘Oh, Lottie. What are you doing?’ She asked. She was in her yellow cardigan and flower dress, like that day on the plane when she’d taken Lottie’s hands. There was a glow coming from Laura Lee. It was soft and lit up the space around her, but if Lottie looked too close, she could see flames and charred skin.

‘I’m trying to find him.’ Lottie said. Her voice was hoarse, she hadn’t used it in days.

Laura Lee looked sad, and knelt down beside Lottie. In the silence around them, there was a very faint baby cry from somewhere far away.

‘He’s gone. You know that.’

‘No, I can hear him.’

‘You can hear me too.’

‘But you’re here.’ Lottie reached out, wanting to touch her, wanting to hold her close and not let go. But Lottie’s hand passed right through her. Laura Lee was cold, cold even as the flames still licked at her.

‘Am I?’ She asked, voice wavering, flames growing.

‘I need you to be.’ Lottie’s voice broke. It wasn’t fair. She’d stay with Laura Lee, she’d go with her, she should have gone with her, should have died with her. Why was she here again, but still unreachable? ‘Please don’t leave.’

‘I never wanted to leave.’

Lottie could see the fire, feel the water soaking into her shoes, hear the screams and the explosion. Laura Lee had looked at her and seen a prophet. Laura Lee had trusted her, believed in her. And Lottie had let her down.

‘The f-fire and light. I didn’t understand then. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, forgive me, please forgive me-’ Lottie begged, shifting onto her knees before Laura Lee, pressing her forehead against the ground. There’s a cold feeling on her cheek, and Lottie looks up. Laura Lee is blurred through her tears, her expression soft even as she’s surrounded by light, just like that day out on the lake. Her hand hovers by Lottie’s cheek, transparent and burnt red.

‘You don’t need my forgiveness, Lottie. I chose my path. I don’t blame you for that.’ Her eyes darted down to the gold heart on Lottie’s throat, face twisting, before shaking her head. ‘It’s this place, it’s not what you think it is.’ Laura Lee’s hand guides Lottie to sit up, in movement if not touch. Laura Lee’s hand stills over Lottie’s chest, pressing where her true heart is. ‘It wants us dead.’

‘No.’ She was just confused, that wasn’t right. ‘No, it’s not evil, it’s just-’

‘Hungry. I know. You’re in Its jaws.’

Laura Lee’s voice was shaking. Lottie couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see the fear she had for Lottie. When was the last time anyone had been afraid for her? When they let Javi die? No, no the Wilderness chose that, and that saved them. Even if it was terrible. A terrible sacrifice. …If Lottie died down here, would that be a sacrifice? She wouldn’t help her team. She would die alone. What was the point?

What was the point of any of this?

Why did everyone around her suffer? Why was she left to pick up the pieces? When will it finally be her turn to be chosen, so she can finally rest?

‘I-I belong here. This is… this is the only place that’s ever felt like home. I…’ Tears streamed down Lottie’s cheeks, as she finally looked back up at the girl she loved so dearly. The fire was spreading, flames licking through Laura Lee’s hair and clothes, leaving scorches in their wake. ‘I want to stay with you.’

‘And I want you to live.’ Laura Lee said. It was a plea. A ghost, repeating her dying wish, for her friends to live. The words cut Lottie to her core. She’d tried to keep the team together, but It wanted blood, and Lottie wanted to die. But Laura Lee’s held gaze was full of fervor, guilt and disappointment. She was more real than anything, more true. Lottie didn’t have the heart to deny her.

Lottie took a shaking breath, and nodded once. The fires engulfing Laura Lee softened, retreating to the glow of a hearth, though their damage stayed.

‘Will I ever see you again?’ Lottie whispered. She needed to. She couldn’t do this without her.

‘Maybe someday..’ Laura Lee’s smile was soft and sad, before her face set in a look of determination. It was so familiar, Lottie could cry at the sight. ‘But not yet. Do you promise me?’

Lottie knew how precious promises were to Laura Lee. Her word meant everything, and if you were going to swear on something, you needed to mean it and follow through. Lottie would live. She would try her best to. She put her hand over her heart. ‘I promise.’

With this, Laura Lee settled, and the light around her started to fade, her purpose complete. She moved to stand, but Lottie reached out to stop her, even knowing her hand would find nothing to hold.

‘Wait, please. Stay.’

‘I can’t. I wish it was- that’s not how it- I’m sorry.’ Laura Lee gave Lottie a desperate, longing sort of look. The world was getting darker, was it night outside already? And then Laura Lee leaned forward, her lips moving to press against the scar on Lottie’s forehead. Only this time, Lottie can feel it. Cold, but there, the ghost of a kiss. She can feel it, just like she can feel Laura Lee’s hands on her shoulders, pushing her back.

No, no, no, no, not again-

Lottie is falling back, away from Laura Lee. The world around her is fading, disappearing into the shadows of the tunnel.

‘I’ll wait for you.’

That was the last thing Lottie heard as the world went dark. The words echoed around her when she woke, her back pressed to cold stone. Jackie’s locket felt heavy around her neck, as heavy as the promise she’d made to Laura Lee. Lottie could still hear their baby crying, soft and distant. She gritted her teeth and turned the other way. She’s not sure how long it took, stumbling around in the dark, but eventually there was a glimpse of light. Lottie crept out of the cave, the dim morning light glinting against the snow. She made her way back to camp, she knew the path well, even if the faces she found there were intruders.

The men came to their home and dragged them back. She knew they would. It didn’t hurt any less.

They all swore to secrecy. No one could know. Her friends were afraid, and Lottie couldn’t hear It anymore, and Laura Lee wanted her to live. So she stayed silent. She’d agreed to keep it all a secret - as Natalie glared at her and Tai panicked and Travis watched her every move with awe or fear (was there a difference?). She went to all the funerals. She sat through every lunch and dinner with every concerned family member or family friend or business associate who had come to see her. She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Everything was wrong. Every tablet she took made her feel more clouded. Every gravestone with her friend’s name carved into it made her want to scream.

Lottie didn’t fit anymore, if she ever did. She would hide in the woods by the old soccer field - where all the trees were strangers. She’d hide in her mom’s attic - where there were no symbols (and when she tried to carve them, they took away all the knives). She’d hide in the basement of her dad’s building - and that was familiar. But there were no candles, and no water, and no Laura Lee waiting for her. She didn’t know what it meant. What It wanted.

The first institution was in New York. It didn’t work. Then Vancouver. It didn’t work. Then Switzerland. It hurt. Everything hurt. She didn’t want to hurt anymore. She’d stood on the edge of the roof and called for It, begging it to guide her, to show her a sign. Snow had started to fall. The orderlies dragged her back inside. She talked to her therapist and she took her medication and she cried in group therapy and they stopped hurting her. She listened and she talked and sometimes they let her outside. She wrote in her journals and she helped her roommates and she woke up screaming.

She wrote letters to her friends. Travis would write back, but sometimes his letters would be tear-stained and sometimes they were ravings from when he was high. Natalie wrote back only once, to tell her to fuck off and that she hoped Lottie was doing well and found some peace. Van wrote short letters until the envelopes were sent back with ‘return to sender’ stamped in blood-red ink. Tai and Shauna never responded. Misty would always reply, filling Lottie in on her studies or what was happening with the others. Travis drowned his sorrows and Natalie shot hers up. Shauna pulled Jackie’s skin around her and tried to make her empty life fit. Tai left them behind for law school and false smiles. Van left and didn't say where she went. Mel left a note and all they found of her was a muddied hat at the edge of Blind Man's Bluff. Misty… well Lottie's never understood Misty. She would describe stories from her nursing residency that made Lottie burn the letters and stop replying. She swore to keep it all secret and she would take their secrets to her grave, but she couldn’t take on more of them. Her group therapy encouraged her to let go of the past, to look towards the future. Lottie wasn’t sure how to let go when It was still in her.

Eventually Lottie talked and cried and helped enough that they let her out.

Her dad was angry and her mom was sad. But she had money in her trust fund and money from the court payout from the crash and no one could make her get on any more planes - so she crossed the oceans by boat. To the Cook Islands and Aotearoa and China and Scotland. To where she came from to try and work out where she was going. It made her feel alive. It made her feel lonely. It helped her keep her promise.

When her mom got sick she went back. Not home, never home, but back. She’d visited her mother in the hospital every day. She’d talk with the people in the waiting rooms and tried to help where she could. She sat in Central Park and felt the deaths it had caused all around her. She went back to therapy. She sat by her mother’s bedside and held her hand when she passed. Lottie had never seen a death so peaceful.

Maybe It was wrong. Maybe there didn’t need to be blood and violence. Or maybe Lottie just didn’t understand It. Maybe she never had.

She wondered where her mother’s spirit went. If it was like her Kuia said, and she’d travel to Te Po and journey through the underworld. Or like Laura Lee said, and everyone who was good and believed would go to heaven. Or what Shauna said, that they’d be trapped in their memories and fears forever.

Lottie wanted to help. That’s all she’d ever wanted. She’d felt safe in the wilderness. Free. Maybe she could help other people feel the same.

Her father was skeptical. But he was also pleased she was out of the basement. She’d pitched it to him as a retreat. Lottie considered it a wellness centre. When an old campsite in upstate New York became available, he funded it.

Camp Green Pine.

And it was perfect. The lake, the trees. They built wood cabins and made a bonfire and had beehives and Lottie carved the symbol into the bark to keep everyone safe. And they were safe with her. She’d go out to find them - people down on their luck or in need of guidance. She had an assistant to contact shelters, she made connections with charities focused on at-risk-youth, had people leave fliers at rehab facilities. Those in need of guidance trickled in.

They began to build something, something real and good.

Her people looked up to her, trusted her. Respected her. No one thought she was crazy, or dangerous. No one could come to hurt her, they were nestled far away behind a locked gate.

Lottie tried to build a life for herself. Where she could help those in need, where she would be needed. Where she could stare out at the water on the lake and listen to the wind in the trees. She didn’t see or hear It anymore, and that was good. She used the symbol though, to keep them safe. It worked before.

It was Travis that brought her back into it. That was only fair.

In all the years that had passed, he was the only one who kept writing. Sparsely, often briefly, but still connecting. She sent him postcards on her travels, he sent flowers to her mother’s funeral. Her mail had been redirected from the suite to the camp, and a few years ago after a particularly troubling letter she’d included her phone number in response in case he needed her. No call had come, until the middle of an October night.

Travis needed help, and Lottie had tried her best. But she’d grown complacent. She thought she could handle it. What a fool It must have thought her. Her fear for Travis, her panic as the button didn’t work, as Travis gasped for breath - what had been happening now was shadowed by the world she’d never really left behind. All It had to do was show her Laura Lee.

Lottie had missed her so much. Regret and guilt were too small words, and the relief she felt at finally seeing her again took her breath away.

But it wasn’t Laura Lee. That screaming, frightful spectre couldn’t be her. Or if it was… she’d changed. Been corrupted, defiled. Was that a warning, a reminder, a punishment? Was that what truly happened to Laura Lee, or is that what Lottie had turned her memory into? Like a crack splitting a dam open, it all came rushing back. Shauna’s fists, the sound of the explosion, the baby's cries, her frozen face in the snow and the choking gas in the tunnels, the smell of blood and meat and the way the lake water tasted when she screamed.

It was too much.

It left Lottie feeling small and broken and alone. And she was alone. Because she’d played right into It’s hand, and Travis was hanging still.

Travis was dead. And it was Lottie’s fault. Laura Lee was dead. And it was Lottie’s fault. And the Laura Lee that she dreamed of had burned, and what had come to her now hated her. That was what she deserved.

Lottie’s not sure if It never left or if It was a part of them all along. But It was back. And It was hungry.

They all came to her. Just like back then. They dragged their feet and rolled their eyes but they came to her anyway. And she wasn’t the only one being pulled back. In near-death Natalie had found the truth they’d all long denied, Tai’s other self had reawakened and Shauna… Shauna had a daughter. A baby grown, one the same age they were when it had all happened.

And then It came to see her. Bedecked in a veil and antlers. The Shaman. The Queen. The Wilderness personified. The vision revealed Its true face to her and she was terrified. Fear and respect go hand in hand with gods. But It guided her too. Does a hunt that has no violence feed anyone? No. Even with all her efforts, things here were wrong still. They were all hurting still. They needed to give It what It wanted. And It was hungry.

Lottie had kept her promise, she wouldn’t do it herself, but with them all here again, they could finally finish what they started. She tried to make them understand with the hunt, Lottie had been ready, she wanted it to be over. But It had other plans, and she needed to trust in them. Shauna had drawn the queen. And Callie had emerged from the darkness and fucking shot Lottie. Oh. This was who she’d been waiting for.

Calliope.

She really was a muse.

Shauna didn’t do it all those years ago, fists pounding into Lottie’s skull, spraying her blood across the floor. But this girl? This force? With the same dark hair and the same tilt to her head and the same cold fury - this was their baby reborn. And not in the Wilderness, but here. Even here It reached them. The baby’s cries finally quietened, and Lottie’s blood was soaking the earth again as she stared into the eyes of her maker.

Natalie died that night. The Wilderness chose. She was always It’s favourite.

They locked Lottie up again. But they patched her wound and she talked and cried and helped enough that they let her out. She knew this game.

She also knew what she had to do. She finally had a path, a purpose, clearly laid out before her. She tried to fix what she’d broken before it happened. She spoke with Van and Tai about how to help Van stay alive, she spent time with her father, she gave Lisa her savings, she tried to mend the bond between Shauna and Callie.

Callie was curious and stagnant at once. Not embracing her potential. Not understanding. With Shauna spending so long playing the housewife, Callie was lost. She needed guidance. Maybe the girl didn’t know yet. But she would.

She gave Callie Jackie’s necklace. A worthy heir for such an honour. She was so like Shauna, and so like Jackie. Truly the child that could have been. Shauna didn’t see it that way, but then Lottie and Shauna often didn’t see eye to eye. It hurt, it always hurt, but Lottie couldn’t fix everything. The necklace was back where it belonged anyway.

Lottie still needed Callie. She thought Callie would come to her, would be drawn to her, but she took the tape just in case. The tape didn’t mean anything to her - it was old, something from before, maybe Shauna’s or Jackie’s, but it must mean something to Callie. And this was too important to fuck up. But Callie hadn’t come. Lottie had created the altar from her visions, she had lit the candles one by one, but Callie was missing. She went to go and get her, sure the girl would come with her, but then she was there. Right in front of her.

She needed to trust It.

Callie was the next generation, she would carry on their legacy, the Wilderness lived inside her, Lottie knew. She knew. But Callie wanted to talk about Shauna. Shauna didn’t matter now - she’d pushed her true self down so deep only the shell of it remained. The memory of blood and antlers and death and life. Shauna pushed Callie away because she feared what she saw in her child. Her reflection, Jackie’s shadow, the baby’s replacement, the true successor. But when Lottie tried to embrace Callie for who she truly is, what she was truly meant to be, Callie pulled away. She was trying to deny the truth.

Lottie wasn’t interested in denying Its truth any longer.

‘You are the child of that place.’ She had to listen. Lottie would make her listen. She took Callie’s hand in both of hers, holding fast. ‘It took our baby. And It gave us you.’

Callie was afraid. She shouldn’t be. ‘I shouldn’t have come here.’

‘You only could have come here.’ Lottie had seen this day, all that time ago, holding her breath under the lake water, Laura Lee holding her in her arms. She’d seen the fire and light, she’d seen the tunnel and candles. Neither made sense at the time. It all made sense now. ‘I’ve been waiting twenty-five years.’

‘What?’ And there it was. That look. Eyes so dark and deep, like staring into the earth. Shauna had that look that night. Let it out. Callie was so close. She just needed a push.

‘She can’t love you, because she’s jealous.’ Lottie confides. Shauna hadn’t been enough. But Callie could be. Would be. ‘You’re just like her. But more.’

And It was right. It guided them both, straight and true. Lottie didn’t need a card, Callie didn’t need a gun. Callie’s face set, and she shoved Lottie back with her own hands. And this time it wasn’t a vision, it was real. She’d been ready for so long, and It worked Its will.

Finally.

Lottie was the sacrifice and the Wilderness chose her. She kept her promise, and her vows. She was filled with relief, with exaltation, and the smallest regret that she wouldn’t see what was to come for the others. But she knew It would be pleased.

As she fell, the last thing she saw was Callie, surrounded by fire and light. Then her head hit the ground, and there was nothing.

When Lottie woke, it wasn’t to trees or antlers or even the plane. She was in a room, on a metal slab. Only pain came from this, they would tie her down and shock her until she would forget and she couldn’t forget, not again, not after all of it. She was panicked, but there was a familiar face there.

Sweet and innocent, her from before.

But that wasn’t right, she didn’t want to go back to before. She did what It wanted, why was she here?

‘Oh. Oh no, no, no! Did I miss it?’

Her younger self was calm and soothing. ‘We didn’t miss anything. Do you remember what we promised?’ My will is your will. ‘It’s time to meet Her.’

Lottie was afraid. But she had to trust. Especially now.

She rose from the metal table. She let herself be guided. She was in the nightgown from her baptism. She followed the tunnels, like she had all those years ago. And there was the altar. There was where she died. The baby was crying. She hadn’t heard the baby in so long. She would get to meet him soon. Lottie was sure She would let her. She walked slowly up the stairs, the candles glowing warmly. Is this where She would appear? Or should she light a candle first?

But before she could, a cold wind blew. The candles flickered, no, no, they couldn’t go out, what was happening?

Lottie was at the bottom of the stairs. Where she had died. But there were no candles, no light, no altar. She wasn’t in the dress from the baptism anymore. She wasn’t in the dress she’d died in either.

She was in a neat set of pyjamas. White with a black trim. She knew these clothes. In the days before Camp Green Pine had opened, Lottie had been shopping for the final touches. The right lanterns, the right cushions, the right curtains. Everything to make the place feel as it should. She ordered everything to be delivered, money was no object. She’d passed a TJ Maxx and nostalgia lured her inside. It was so easy, just slipping the clothes into her bag, just like old times. The camp’s opening had gone so well, and the next morning Lottie had woken in these stolen pyjamas. She’d walked out onto her deck, her camp spread out before her, the sunrise washing over her. And she’d thought, This is home now.

Why was she in them now?

Lottie looked around in vain, but the tunnel was dark and quiet. She was alone.

Why? Was this a test? What more could she do to prove her devotion? What more did It want from her now? And where was She? Wasn’t she supposed to meet Her?

‘A-are you there?’ She called out. Fearfully. Hopefully.

Her head was pounding. She reached up a hand and it came away red. The back of her head, her skull, was crushed. There was blood pouring down her neck, her shoulders, her back. So much blood. She couldn’t survive losing this much blood. But wasn’t she already dead? She turned to look back up the stairs, hoping to see the altar, or Callie, or Her. But there was nothing. Just her, bleeding out, alone. She was so dizzy, so tired. She tried to take a step and lost her balance, falling backwards. But she didn’t hit the ground again. Someone caught her.

‘Easy, easy, it’ll pass. Just breathe.’

The voice was not who she was expecting. It was not mystical or grand. It was one Lottie thought she would never hear again, because she didn’t deserve to. Right?

‘Laura Lee?’

The arms lowered her carefully to the ground, her head resting on their legs. Lottie looked up and saw her.

She didn’t emerge from light, she didn’t become corrupt, she didn’t glow or catch fire or shove Lottie back. She just looked down, a sad smile on her face, staring back at Lottie.

‘Hi, Lottie.’

‘Why are you here?’ Lottie asked, voice shaking, and Laura Lee’s smile turned wry.

‘I can go, if you want.’

Lottie’s hand reached out and clutched at her shirt. She could touch her. She was really here. She wasn’t letting go this time. ‘No, stay. Please.’

Laura Lee’s hand ran gently through Lottie’s hair, cradling her head. ‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.’

She was here. Really here. Lottie felt more at peace than she ever had.

‘...I don’t understand?’

‘I don’t either. Not really. Just because I was first everyone thinks I do, and I try to help, but it’s not what I was expecting either.’ The words didn’t make any sense to Lottie, but the frown Laura Lee directed down at her caught all her attention. ‘I was hoping not to see you for a long time. You promised, Lottie.’

‘I kept the promise. I didn’t do it. I wanted to sometimes, but I never did.’

‘And yet you’re here.’

‘Callie did it. Shauna’s daughter. She was supposed to. It was what It wanted. The Wilderness chose.’

Laura Lee sighed, deep and weary. ‘Of all people, I know a suicidal loophole when I hear it. You and Travis aren’t fooling me.’

That name shot through Lottie with more pain than that bullet ever could have caused. ‘Travis? You’ve talked to Travis? Is he…’

‘He’s okay. Javi’s better now too, now that they’re back together.’ Laura Lee said softly. Tears pricked at Lottie’s eyes, and when they spilled out the corners of her eyes, Laura Lee brushed them away. ‘I wish you’d lived longer, Lottie. I wanted you to have a good life.’

‘I tried.’ Lottie whispered, voice breaking.

‘I know.’

‘I thought you hated me?’

Laura Lee looked shocked. ‘I could never hate you.’

‘But you were so angry only a few weeks ago?’

‘Lottie… I haven’t seen you in a long time. Not since the tunnels. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t me.’

It wasn’t her. Laura Lee didn’t hate her. She should though. Lottie had hurt so many people. But they sat there together, Laura Lee’s hand brushing Lottie’s hair with care, until Lottie felt like she could breathe again. The blood seemed to stop too, and it left no stain on her shirt or Laura Lee’s shorts. Lottie didn’t understand any of this, but if Laura Lee was here, she would take it. Laura Lee helped her sit up, and then they weren’t touching, and Lottie was fearful she would disappear, so she took Laura Lee’s hand. It made the other girl smile, a soft one that felt achingly familiar.

‘What happens now?’ Lottie asked.

‘I’ll show you where we go.’ Laura Lee pulled Lottie to her feet and steadied her.

Where they go? Laura Lee had loved and believed in God, and Lottie had feared and believed in It. Laura Lee’s faith had been unshakable, the crucifix still hung around her neck, and she’d died trying to save them. Lottie had tried to follow, but she’d failed so many times, and she’d hurt so many people, and she’d died driving a girl to kill her. What place could they go together?

‘I… I know where you’re supposed to go, but what about me?’ Lottie asked.

Laura Lee squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry, you can be my plus one.’

Lottie followed her down the tunnel. It was dark, but Laura Lee didn’t let go, and she seemed to know where she was going. Eventually there was a glimpse of light ahead, and they emerged from the mouth of the tunnel into the woods. Lottie knew this place. She knew this place better than she knew herself.

But why was Laura Lee here? Shouldn’t Laura Lee be in heaven?

She’s not sure if she spoke aloud, if it showed on her face, or if Laura Lee had become clairvoyant in the afterlife. ‘We all come here eventually.’ She said, sounding weary, before looking Lottie up and down questioningly.

Lottie looked down at herself. She was her young self again. Her boots were covered in dirt, as were her arms, and her right hand had blood splattered on it. She wore Laura Lee’s flowered dress, which made her feel exposed in front of Laura Lee herself. It was ripped and torn, but cleaner then it had ended up after all those months out here. Doomcoming. This was how she’d looked the day after Doomcoming.

She’d been so overwhelmed with grief. Spending all her time waiting to die. And then Doomcoming had happened, and she felt alive again. Connected to the others, connected to the Wilderness. Life and death didn’t matter anymore, they were here. The bear had come, and Lottie had no fear. She’d killed it, and saved them, and so many of them looked to her with reverence and Lottie knew she belonged in this place. That she was home.

She didn’t feel that elation now, with Laura Lee’s eyes on her. She felt shame and regret. She could hear Travis’ panicked cries, and see Nat pointing the gun at her, and feel Jackie’s barely repressed rage. But It wasn’t evil, It was just hungry. They were so hungry. That’s why they’d hunted.

Lottie wasn’t hungry now.

Laura Lee still held her hand, despite the blood. She led Lottie through the woods. It was summer, the sun was warm, but there were no birds or signs of life. When they got close, Lottie knew where they were headed, but she was surprised to see it all the same.

The cabin was still standing. Smoke curled up from the chimney, and a strange man in a plaid shirt was chopping firewood. He seemed strangely familiar, but Lottie couldn’t place him. When he saw them he rolled his eyes and kept chopping.

Laura Lee leaned over to whisper in her ear. ‘He acts like this whenever someone new comes. But I think he likes the company.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He built this place.’ Laura Lee gestured at the cabin. Dead Cabin Guy. Or Jacques. Or… well Lottie would find out his name soon enough. He’d tried to warn them, at the seance. He’d spoken through Lottie. She wasn’t eager to talk with him again.

‘Who else is here?’ Lottie asked.

‘Anyone who called this place home. Anyone who’s died since. That’s as close as we can get to figuring it out, anyway.’

‘So… Nat’s here?’

‘Yeah, she thought you’d be coming next. Or maybe Misty. I was hoping it wouldn’t be you. Kristin thinks Misty’s gonna be the last one though.’

‘What happens when the last one dies?’

‘I don’t know. We thought maybe we were stuck here forever, until Travis came. Time works differently here, but it’d been a long time since Akilah came. And then Nat and now you. Maybe once everyone’s here, we’ll get to leave? Or maybe this is where we’re supposed to be. I don’t know.’ Laura Lee looked over at Lottie and gave her another sad smile. ‘But we make do. And though I was hoping not to see you until you were old and grey, I’m still happy you’re here, Lottie.’

‘You waited for me.’ Lottie whispered, and Laura Lee blushed, but nodded. ‘I was waiting for you too.’

There was a sound then that made Lottie freeze. A baby crying. A girl walked around from the other side of the deck, holding the baby in her arms and murmuring quietly to him. Jackie. That was Jackie. She hadn’t noticed them yet. Lottie didn’t realise she was shaking until Laura Lee’s other hand touched her arm soothingly.

‘Are you ready?’

Lottie took a deep breath, clutching Laura Lee’s hand, and started forward.

#lottieleeweekend #my fics #lottielee #yellowjackets #lottie matthews #laura lee #callie sadecki #ghost laura lee #lottie death #fanfiction

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xoxokomorebixoxo · 4 months ago

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Chapter 1: The Mischief at Bull Creek

Warning: This story is intended for a mature audience. Themes of some sexual content, cussing, violence, gore, self-harm, and more takes place inside the story. Warnings will be listed at top of each chapter. I do not own Creepypastas, nor the pictures provided. This story is the only thing I own. This story does promote love interests both female and male. 13 characters will be yandere for the reader. I do not insist that yandere behavior is good. If this actually happens, please contact authorities. Enjoy the story!

Cast

Jessica (Owner and Cook at Boil's for Miles)

Katerina (Boss of Y/N and Owner of St. Maryland Library)

Travis (The Victim)

Love Interests

🤍Masky/Tim Wright🤍

🤍Hoodie/Brian Thomas🤍

🤍Ticci Toby/Tobias Erin Roger🤍

🤍Jeff the Killer/Jeffery Woods🤍

🤍BEN Drowned🤍

🤍Eyeless Jack/EJ🤍

🤍Laughing Jack/LJ🤍

🤍Homicidal Liu🤍

🤍X-Virus/Cody🤍

🤍Puppeteer🤍

🤍Bloody Painter/Helen Otis🤍

🤍Clockwork/Natalie Outlette🤍

🤍Jane the Killer🤍

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It happened so quick. So sudden.

Jason, Lily, Melva, and Devon were just going out for a night after their midterms by the creek to celebrate. They said they were going to camp, drink a little and even swim, but they never came back. Maybe they were done celebrating? It had been three days with no phone calls, no messages, so a search party was sent out.

It wasn't long until the search party found Jason. Well, a part of him. They identified him by the large Fleetwood tattoo he had on his arm, which so happened to be at the entry trail down to the creek. Apparently, his hand had been positioned in a way where Jason's middle finger was pointed up before rigamortis set in a way of telling the cops 'Fuck you'. The cops continued down the trail. Aside from the arm they didn't see anything until they reached the creek. There they found all of them.

Jason was slumped against a stump. An empty beer can hung from his cold hand, the yeasty liquid had since dried on his jeans, mixing into a sticky red concoction on the soil between his legs from where the blood had dripped off from where his head was supposed to be. They found it rolled away a few feet away from him, a look of agony forever contorted on his facial features from the killer having to hack into the thick, freckled, strong neck in order to decapitate the ginger.

Then there was Devon. It was obvious he managed to fight back, his body littered with bruises. His ebony skin had been graced with cuts from the rocks on the ground had been cutting him up during the altercation. The scrapes present on his knuckles. He was found on his back, eyes closed. His body was whole, unlike Jason, except his skull had a large hole present at his temple. His brain was now shriveled, gray bone fragments could be seen poking out of the major organ. His face covered in the dark brownish-red color which was now somewhat flaking from drying up to air exposure. The rock that was used to bash Devon's head in sat beside his face.

Next was Melva, she was the most peaceful looking of the bodies. She laid in her sleeping bag, her body curled snugly holding her pillow to her chest. You would think she was sleeping if it hadn't been for the three-gun shots in her head. One had gone into her ear, straight to her brain, killing her instantly. Of course that wasn't enough, shooting her two more times ensured she'd never wake up. She died in her sleep. They're calling her sleeping beauty because she was blonde, pretty, and now, sleeping for all eternity.

Last was Lily. Poor, poor Lily... You see, it was reported that Lily must've seen what happened to her friends as her clothing had been strung out on the log by the creek bed and her shoes placed so neatly together. Her footprints could be found on the soil, as well as several boot prints, one a different size than the other, each with their own distinct weight distribution into the soft earth. It took them so long to find Lily, three hours to be exact until the finally found her. She was almost a mile away from where the campsite was. Her pretty brown eyes were open, dulled, devoid of life. Claw marks dug deep into the moss and mud; she was trying to crawl away. To freedom. To safety. She never did make it though. Lily had been found with several bullet wounds, all of which were aimed at non-vital areas where she could easily live. Some of the bullets had only grazed her skin, they shot at her as she ran. Her face was bruised up and battered. A large knot on her forehead, her cheekbone was cracked, nose bridge bent painfully to the side and her teeth. Lily was known for that bright smile of hers and now it was gone. A jagged, gaping hole where her pearly whites once were, fragments found in her mouth, on the floor, clinging to her split lips.

Lily was trying to crawl away, drag marks from the poor girl trying to carry her body with her elbows as her legs had been shot, her knee was completely shattered in the right leg and the left was cracked in half at the shin. The killers taunting her by following close behind as she desperately tried to escape, cigarette burns colored her bare back. She was alive when they did that. What killed her off? Lily's throat was slit by that same axe, no not axe, they identified it was a hatchet that killed Jason. She was alive for three minutes.

Three minutes after her throat was slit open, three minutes of choking on her own blood, three minutes where she couldn't breathe and lastly, three minutes of feeling the killer dig their greedy, dirty, disgusting fingers in her throat. Digging around before finally locating her vocal cords yanking them out of the security of her esophagus and into the open air for all to see.

"Oh, dear God..." The brunette said, staring at the newspaper in her hands. Her honey eyes wide with horror, a cupped hand hovering over her mouth. She was sitting at one of the few lounge chairs left in at St. Maryland's library. The paper and TV were free there so anyone within the general vicinity of the area was packed inside the library if they couldn't afford cable, didn't have a phone or just wanted to read the paper there. The library, which was so quiet, was now a buzz with whispers from what happened to the college students. It wasn't as if it was never this packed before either.

Jessica put down the paper as one of the workers turned up one of the large tv mounted high on the wall for all to hear the news reporter speak. The well-dressed news reporter sat at her station; fingers laced together placed neatly in front of her on the table she sat behind.

"Hello this is Elizabeth Warner with the afternoon news. As of now our sources say that there has been three unknown persons linked to the brutal killing of the four college students found murdered by Bull Creek. Sheriff Yamazaki has issued a warning for citizens to be cautious of their surroundings, to stay alert and to please report any suspicious activity you may see. The killers are still at large and are deemed a high threat." The new reporter paused as she held her earpiece, listening intently before continuing. "The sheriff has also stated that as of now, no one is to go to Bull Lake or anywhere near the Smithson camping trail. All locals, visitors and others mustn't go within the area. Only police and ranger personnel are allowed within the area. That is all for this update so far. We here at channel eight will keep you updated. Onto the next news report a fire has broken out at Ottawa Park. Rowdy teenagers? Or another proposal with too many sparklers gone wrong again?"

The news anchor went on about with news reports. None caring to listen, only having ears for the update on the slasher story that got everyone talking. The older woman heaved to the librarian desk. A stack of overdue textbooks that needed to be scanned in dropped down on the counter. "Jesus Christ..." Katerina huffed looking at the TV. "Those poor kids... they hadn't even thrown their caps off their heads yet for graduation and now they'll be thrown into a casket..." The shorter, older woman looked at the tv. Her ocean eyes glanced over to the librarian next to her. "Hopefully they'll catch the killer soon, don't you agree, Y/N?" Asked the white-haired older female.

It brought a frown over the (Hair Color)'s face as her eyes were glued to the screen, listening in to today's news. She drew a hand slowly down her face, humming as Katerina spoke to her. "Do you think it's the same people from the murder a few months back? How do you think they are targeting people, anyways?"

Katerina could only shrug as the lines in her face deepened with her frown. "God only knows. Hopefully the police catch those monsters soon."

The girl simply nodded back. She appeared silent as she trained her attention on the small television drilled onto the wall by the front desk. Y/N's reading glasses fell to the edge of her nose. She pushed the frames back up and shook her head once more.

"I'm sure they'll be caught soon enough, boss. I'm sure justice will be served." The reporter on tv, Elizabeth Warner, switched to the latest update about a fire that took place at Ottawa Park. Y/N walked back to her stack of dusty books, wiping a thin trail of dust away from the top novel's cover. She then grabbed the scanner and opened the covers, one by one, marking them as returned. The low hum of a beep echoing through the small, enclosed library as Y/N got back to work.

The older woman's visage relaxed as she watched her employee continue their job. She smiled warmly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Don't work too hard, Y/N. I'm fine if you want to take it easy the next few days. The news was rather... unsettling, after all."

(Eye Color) eyes glanced up, taking in Katerina's features. Katerina had known her since she was 18 years old. The woman always had her under her wing. Still, she didn't want to disappoint anyone. The news was on. The victims were found. There was not much they could do from then on. They were dead and that was final. "You don't have to worry about me, boss. The shop still needs to keep running for future customer's, don't you think?" She kept her features nonchalant. Inside though, her heart was racing, thinking of all the conspiracy theories zooming through her head.

Her first and initial thought was this group of killers was a cult. So far, their only victims were students. Most of the time they were drinking. It was a small, and most likely a pointless comparison to the crime scenes, but the (Hair Color) was certain this was the work of a murderous cult in the process, wanting to cleanse the world of the filth of her generation. Many people believed her generation was going to ruin the Earth.

Coming from a small town, it would not surprise Y/N if a few crazies got together and decided to kill the younger generation.

The door's bell chimed as a few customers walked in. Katerina put a smile on her face as she greeted them," welcome. Please let us know if you need any help." The (Hair Color) haired girl grabbed her stack of book returns and made way to the cart. She set the objects down before wandering through the near, empty library.

The wheels squeaked, alerting passerby of her presence. Y/N's eyes watched the growing numbers as she walked down the aisle of shelves. Her attention turned momentarily, noting a girl around her age, sitting at a table, a newspaper in hand. The librarian sighed, pushing her cart to the side before she walked over to the other woman. She placed a hand on the table, nodding her head towards the held newspaper. "You know, reading about them won't bring them back to life." She didn't mean to be rude. It was far from her intention. Still, when it came to people shocked about news like this, Y/N couldn't help but feel... a tad apathetic.

What could they truly do? If she had the power to bring back the murdered students, she would. But she didn't have that ability.

Her fingernails drummed against the wooden tabletop. Her (Eye Color) eyes gazing intently at the woman, taking in her appearance. Light, chocolate brown hair. A flat mole on the right side of her chin. Eyes in the color of honey and chocolate. Y/N frowned as she leaned in, trying to register where she knew the woman from. Then, in a flash, she snapped her fingers. "You work at that restaurant just down the street, right? You guys have the best food. I used to go their every Friday night with a couple of friends from work." The chime of the bells simply went unnoticed to the (Hair Color) haired girl as she continued to talk. Katerina's attention moved to the latest figures, nodding a welcome their way. They appear to be the quiet type to say the least as they shuffled throughout the library, heading to the back where books on occults, ghosts, and ghouls laid.

Jessica looked back at the paper for a moment and sighed heavily setting it down in front of her. "Y-yeah I know it's just- the way they died wasn't- it wasn't-?" She couldn't finish or rather, find the words. How could anyone? These acts of violence weren't just morbid. No, there was always a reason for these things. Some source to a serial killers' motives and yet... there was none? No links, no certain targets of signatures of the killer's nature? It made no sense! Why? Just what was the reasoning behind it!?

Unlike the (Hair Color) haired female standing in front of her, the milk chocolate brunette sitting was sympathetic of the unfortunate events. They had one common trait however unbeknownst to them. They were both curious as to who the culprits were behind these two homicide cases. "Hmm? Oh! Thank you, it's actually a compliment to be honest since I do most of the cooking for the place." Jessica looked up; her brows furrowed a bit. Sure, she knew this woman as St. Maryland librarian but... there was something else that felt familiar? Like she knew her for something other than her occupation... Now what was it...?

"Oh! I remember now!" Jessica exclaimed, not loudly but at a decent volume one would speak between two people having a casual conversation. "Yes! You would order at least five blondie lattes before your meal came!" It wasn't hard for Jessica to remember small details, it was part of her job sure, but she was also very observant of people, places, things. She gave a soft smile. "I would ask Lindsey to make your coffee specifically 'cause I noticed that you tended to like your cup on the creamer side rather than stronger."

The edges of Y/N's lips curled into a thin smile. She felt her cheeks blossom into a light shading of pink as the chef mentioned her common drink order. "Yeah, 2-3 cups most days, but, man, I cannot get enough of your menu. My compliments to Lindsey, and the chef of course!" Two fingers pushed against her forehead, forming into a salute. The cheeky grin on her face was warm in comparison to the grim news playing on loop in the background. The news anchor was back from their commercial break, repeating the daily news of the fire, donation services, and the recent murders.

Before Jessica could continue, someone had interrupted the two women's conversation. "Hey Jessica." A solemn voice called her name. Turning her head, she noticed it was a regular at her restaurant. His name was Travis, he was a tall, tanned man who had a rather lean build to him. He was usually clean shaven and well-kept, but right he looked downright awful. His warm skin looked pale and sickly, neat clothing now wrinkled gray sweatpants with an equally wrinkled worn out, black hoodie. His raven, shoulder length hair was now less than combed, a bit greasy from not showering for a day or two. This was far from the Travis who occupied the counter stools.

"Travis? What happened to you? You look sick..." Jessica asked with concern in her voice.

Travis coughed into his elbow. "Y-yeah I know. I-I don't feel so hot... I'm just a little-rgh!" Once again, he coughed. Heaving into his sleeve before finally pulling back once the cough ceased. Blood smeared on his face and sleeve. "Fuck- I'm sorry, I-"

"It's no trouble. Please, look, why don't I take you to the restaurant and you can clean up a bit? I have the dinner rush, so I'll make you something on the house for the nice tip you left me the other day" Jessica turned her attention to Y/N and stood up from her seat with paper in hand. "Thank you for talking to me but I need to go to work anyway. Be safe and have a great workday!" She offered one more smile before turning her attention back to the man aside her. She patted his back and ushered her to follow him which he did so, rather closely too. Like he didn't want to leave her side. He sure seemed jittery too. Perhaps it was the cold he had making him shiver.

Y/N immediately shook her hand," no, you should go. Take care of him. He needs the attention." Her (Eye Color) orbs gazed over Travis, frowning at his condition. "Maybe take him to the hospital?" She suggested. Jessica gave a curt nod then guided Travis out of the library. The moment they were gone, the female ran a hand through her hair. What just happened? Stifling a sigh, Y/N moved back to her cart, nodding a welcoming gesture to three men standing in the nearby aisle. The wheels squeaked as she continued her journey of putting books away.

■■■

Run back home, little rabbit... Run home

Want to read the full story? Check it out: Rabbits on the Run (Creepypasta x F!Reader) | Quotev

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dying-brb · 11 months ago

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desolation / an ellie x f!oc fanfiction / tlou universe

!slowburn !angst !subreader !domellie !fluff

tw: this is a heavy fic. mentions of sa, violence, gore, etc.

(oc starts off 14 but only for backstory)

chapter 1: 1090 words

ᨒ↟ 𖠰 1 - serene release ᨒ↟ 𖠰

december 2033 - colorado

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Natalie - 14 yrs old ⋆⭒˚.⋆

As I laid there, dying, I tried desperately to find the will to escape, blinking my heavy eyes in repetition.

Stay awake, Natalie.

But my eyes faltered. They rolled back and sank back into my skull begging for the relief of sleep. No, this wasn't sleep. It was a false prophet - an early demise clawing its way inside of my being, desperately pulling and tearing my soul from the weak husk I clung to.

My eyelids weighed heavier, the urge gnawing at me to let them fall shut, let the agony end; For just a moment, I considered it.

No.

Stay Awake.

I wasn't ready to die. Not really.

Ironically so, I prepared myself for this moment - begged for it, time and time again. When loved ones had died, when previous groups abandoned me, death had seemed like a serene release.

Growing up in this sick excuse for a world, I always wondered how it would happen. Would I be torn apart by Infected? Become the Infected? Succumb to the cruelty of a harsh winter? Starve?

No.

At this moment, it seemed more likely that I was going to die to a group of savage cannibals, and I would be butchered at the hands of a man that had a fascination for little girls.

My heart sank at the mere thought, and I felt bile rise in my throat, scorching my dry esophagus. I coughed lightly, choking down the vomit, I gasped for a quick breath of air and my lungs screamed in pain at the sudden inhalation. I gritted my teeth.

This was hell, but the pain was keeping me alert, keeping me alive.

Keep your fucking eyes open.

I remembered before, the moments when I had begged for the end to come, I had wondered if it would hurt—Death. Which now, in this moment, seemed like an idiotic thing to question.

Yeah, of course it fucking hurts. It hurts like hell.

The searing agony that gripped my muscles snapped me back to reality. I yanked my mind out of the past, only to be forcefully thrust into the harshness of the present moment. My heart was thumping quicker now, my breaths, once slow and wheezing were now rapid and full, croaking and stuttering, but full. I wondered if this was my bodies last-ditch attempt to save itself.

Alarm bells clanged inside my head, their echoes reverberating through my skull, vibrating as they reached my ears. My eyes widened, my once heavy lids were lighter now. Adrenaline surged through my veins, making my legs twitch with the urge to flee. I desperately wanted to leave this place and never look back, but I remained frozen on the cold tile where I lay, my body writhing with excruciating pain.

Still frozen in torment, I harnessed this newfound mental energy to survey my surroundings and formulate a plan. My eyes darted from corner to corner of the room, the hellish nature of the scene before me causing my heart to slam in my chest, and pound against my eardrums.

Breathe. Make a plan.

I refocused, absorbing every detail my fading mind could manage. I took deep breaths, exhaling slowly, my hands trembling as I noted the positions of windows, doors, and any potential exits for a swift escape. I scanned for anything that could serve as a weapon, should I break free from this confinement.

The caged room I lay in reeked of rotting meat and iron. I honed in on the pungent smell, the harsh fluorescent lighting casting unwelcome shadows, and the distant murmur of voices echoing through the halls.

Digging my nails into my side, I embraced the pain, using it to sharpen my senses and maintain consciousness. I resolved to absorb every detail, knowing that once I escaped and recovered, I would meticulously recount my steps, retrace him. Kill him. That fucking bastard.

David.

Suppressing tears of rage, I scoffed as I recalled how I found myself in this wretched corner of the world; Merely stumbled upon it in a midnight daze.

Just yesterday, I was scavenging through the snow-laden forests of Colorado. As for my exact location in Colorado, I couldn't tell you—it had become a blur amidst the relentless hunger that left my head light and my heart faintly beating. Lost in a delirium, as if I was one of them, the infected.

Perhaps this was what the early stages of mutation felt like, just before losing oneself—their personality, dreams, aspirations, and will to live all slipping away. Maybe all that remained was a relentless hunger and confusion, grasping at the flickering remnants of life while clinging desperately to the feeble fragments of humanity.

Then again, maybe not.

I simply felt adrift, with no hope left to cling to, my grasp slipping away from what little remained. It plunged me into a primal struggle for survival, fueled by animalistic paranoia. With my mind spinning, driven by the desperate quest for food, I had long abandoned the map and strayed from the path she had set me on. The path that led to the Fireflies. The path that would give meaning to my immunity.

This thought sparked a glimmer of hope within me, reigniting my determination. Clutching my grumbling stomach, I leaned against a nearby tree trunk for support, resting my head against its rough bark, my breath ragged.

That's when realization sunk in—I couldn't feel my fingers or toes. Hypothermia.

Was this the end?

As I contemplated giving up and surrendering to the cold embrace of eternal slumber, a light pierced through the darkness of the forest, forcing my hand to shield my sensitive eyes. A voice, tinged with feigned concern, broke the silence.

"Excuse me. Are you alright?" The voice trembled slightly as a flashlight nervously scanned my body. "You look like hell."

I groaned in response, my lips barely moving, cautious of this stranger in these desperate times. Yet, with no other options left, I felt a flicker of hope that perhaps this solitary figure could be my salvation. Someone, anyone, was here, offering a chance at survival.

"Here, come with me," the awkward, lanky man said, taking my hand and guiding me, his shoulder bearing my weight. I couldn't protest even if I wanted to, the exhaustion held me in a tight grip, suppressing even my primal will to survive.

And so I went, practically dragged alongside the man, into this wretched corner of the world that I lay in now.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #tlou x reader #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #oc #ellie x oc

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the-red-princess · 3 months ago

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MY FIRST FIC … it’s just the first chapter… hope you all enjoy … it’s a MarkHelena fic …

Chapter 1 - Good or Bad news ?

Difficult times always show us the real value of the things we have.

How many sunny afternoons had I spent buried in work while Gemma asked me to go for a walk? How many game nights had I missed? Two years of pain and remorse were more than enough to change my view on what really matters, and on how I want to enjoy this new life I've been given, when I thought my existence would be nothing more than a memoryless job, nights of drunken stupor, and, in the few hours I actually felt sane, the pain would consume more and more parts of me, leaving new open holes every day.

The "Rebellion of the Innies," as the Lumon severed floor takeover came to be known, ended in a confusing way three months ago. The company barely survived the scandals, but only after declaring that all research into severance would be permanently shut down. Helena Eagan took over the company amidst the chaos after the sudden death of her father. Her actions since then had been solely focused on repairing the damage caused by severance to everyone. Along with Harmony, she was able to develop a safe reintegration method, which was presented to the severed workers along with videos of their Inners, in an attempt to convince them to go through with the procedure, so the Inners wouldn't be "killed" in the end. Helena herself stated she would undergo the procedure as soon as she sorted out some personal medical issues.

Even with all the advantages, I didn't feel like I should go through with reintegration—especially knowing the feelings my innie had for Helena Eagan. My heart belonged only to Gemma, and I didn't want that to change.

"Mark!? Can you help me with the plates, honey?" Gemma called from the kitchen.

"Of course," I said, snapping out of my sudden daydream caused by a news headline I saw on my phone.

When I got to the kitchen, I saw Gemma taking roasted chicken with potatoes out of the oven. The smell quickly spread through the air. She had never been much of a cook, but ever since she came back, cooking had become her outlet. She said that in the testing floor, those moments preparing food felt special—like she had control over something, even if it was small—and she had learned to find peace in that. Every day, since we moved back to Ganz, she made a different recipe for dinner.

While I was setting the plates, I noticed a car stopping in front of the house. Then came the knocks on the door. We weren't expecting anyone. For some reason, my heart started beating faster, like something was about to jump from behind the couch. I walked toward the door and, still a bit hesitant, opened it.

When I saw who it was, I involuntarily took two steps back. She then raised her hands slightly, as if surrendering, and gave a faint smile.

"Calm down, Mark. I come in peace," Helena said quickly.

"What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" I asked, still keeping some distance from the door.

She was accompanied by two security guards waiting a bit farther off, probably at her request so she wouldn't seem threatening.

"Well, like I said, I come in peace. And I know where you live because you still have a chip from my company in you both—but we can only track Gemma's. It was a newer model."

She was rambling a bit at the end, seemed nervous, and was gesturing excessively. I must have made a very clear expression of distrust, because she quickly continued explaining.

"I know you two don't want anything to do with me. I know it doesn't matter how many times I apologize—it'll never be enough to make up for everything my father and the company did to you..."

"Oh, are you talking about the kidnapping of my wife? Faking her death? Torture? Or trying to kill us?" I cut her off mid-speech. "We made it very clear last time that we didn't want any of that in our lives anymore."

When we left Kier, we had a conversation with Natalie, representing the board, who offered us a sum of money—"financial compensation for the distress," they called it. The lawyers said it was a fair amount, along with a promise that we'd never be bothered again. We accepted the offer just to get out of there and start over—as if nothing had happened. At least, that was the idea.

"I know. And I didn't want to come here..." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, looking down at her clasped hands.

"Then why did you come?" I asked, exasperated.

Gemma heard the voices and came to see what was going on, drying her hands with a dish towel.

"Sweetheart? What's happening? What are you doing here?" Gemma asked, slightly irritated, standing beside me.

"If you let me speak, I promise I'll leave right after," Helena said, straightening up and putting on a serious expression once Gemma arrived.

We both waited in silence while she prepared to speak, now clearly a bit irritated.

"Well, like I was saying—it wasn't my idea to come. Harmony insisted ever since I found out..." she swallowed hard and looked away. "Mark, I didn't come to ask for support or even presence—I was just convinced you deserved to know... I'm pregnant."

She said it almost in a single breath, probably hoping it'd be like ripping off a band-aid: the faster, the less it hurts.

Neither Gemma nor I reacted. I opened my mouth, but my brain refused to give me any sentences—just a single word.

"Wait … how ???”

"Mark, I think everyone knows how these things happen. I know your focus is history, but you must have studied biology," Helena replied sarcastically.

"I know how biologically, but... when? Where?" I asked, holding onto the doorframe, feeling like I might throw up at any moment.

"Oh, you didn't watch the tapes of your innies before leaving? Well, I saw all of them. And to answer your questions—there were several days. But the first time was during that retreat. Then the day I found you at the restaurant, remember?"

"I do," I replied, still a bit dazed.

"Those days I was informed of what happened and took every precaution to make sure nothing would come of it—but the problem was the many times our innies got involved during the rebellion... they took full advantage."

That last part she said laughing openly, showing no concern for our state of complete shock.

I felt Gemma step away and sit on the stairs behind me. My head was spinning. Amid the confusion, visions I'd had during my attempted reintegration came flooding back—me on top of Helena, on a plastic-covered floor, and for a moment, I could feel her heart pounding as I leaned over her. I shook my head, trying to erase the memory.

"I... I don't... are you sure it's mine?" The desperation in my voice was clear.

Helena lifted her head, still smiling faintly.

"Well, I did what I promised Cobel. I'll be in town for a couple more days to deal with some company issues. If you have any questions, my hotel info is on this card, including my room number. Goodbye, Mark... Gemma."

She placed the card into my hand resting on the doorframe. Without waiting for any reply to her goodbye, she turned, quickly got into her car, and left.

I kept staring at the spot where Helena had stood, as if her ghost remained there, repeating the word "pregnant" over and over. My head was spinning. I blinked a few times, hoping I'd suddenly wake up on the couch.

I took a deep breath and pulled myself together—I needed to be there for my wife. I turned around, and Gemma was looking at her feet, hands resting on the stair step she was sitting on. I knelt in front of her.

"My love? Are you okay?" I asked, touching her shoulder. She didn't pull away, which was a good sign.

I tried to lift her face, but she didn't let me.

"Gemma, I swear—I didn't know anything about this. I had no idea my innie was that involved..."

"It was your innie... not you..." she said, still with her head down. "It's okay—I just need a minute."

She put her hands over her face. I backed away and sat on the floor, waiting until she was ready to move.

We didn't have dinner that night. The roast went straight into the fridge. Gemma kept insisting she was okay, but I knew how much that hurt her—how much it hurt me. I was going to be a father, and I'd probably never have contact—just pictures in magazines or TV. It didn't feel right.

Near bedtime, Gemma said she needed space. I agreed and reassured her I'd sleep on the couch. She brought me a pillow and blanket, said goodnight, and went upstairs.

I tried to distract myself with a silly movie, but nothing could take my mind off the unexpected visit.

When I first started at Lumon, I saw lots of ads featuring Helena—especially related to severance. What always struck me was how young she was, holding so much responsibility—and also very beautiful. The day I saw her at the restaurant was so strange. When I realized we were flirting, I got confused. I wasn't capable of holding a conversation with anyone—and suddenly the heiress of the biggest company is in front of me, and I act like a teenager. Worse—she responded. It felt like the prom queen asked to sit at my lunch table.

I realized I was smiling remembering it. I know the reintegration didn't fully go through, but these feelings that arise when I think about her... it makes me think there's some leak from my innie.

I reached into my pocket and took out the card Helena had given me. I know it felt wrong—but I had the feeling that talking to her would ease the weight in my chest. I don't want to have a son or daughter and never know them. It's my right... isn't it?

I got up quickly and went to the bedroom. Gemma was sleeping deeply, and she'd stay that way until morning. Lately, she'd been taking medication to help her sleep—it made her rest deeply. So if I went out and came back quickly, she wouldn't even notice.

I went downstairs, grabbed the car keys, a coat, and left. She was staying at one of the city's fanciest hotels, of course—the presidential suite.

It was a quick drive—no traffic at that hour, already past ten at night. I parked in front of the hotel. Suddenly a chill ran through my stomach. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself—it was just a conversation.

I gathered my courage, walked quickly to the entrance. In the lobby, the lights dazzled me for a moment. It was beautiful—gold and white dominated, the floor and counters looked like pearlescent quartz. The staff greeted me with fake smiles. I approached the counter and asked to speak with Helena Eagan in the main suite.

"One moment, sir, I'll check."

The attendant didn't seem to believe I'd have any relation to an Eagan. Even outside Kier, Lumon's reputation was huge.

"Good evening, Ms. Eagan, sorry for the late hour. A Mr. Mark Scout is here to see you."

He listened carefully to the reply, and like magic, his expression toward me changed.

"Perfectly, ma'am. I'll authorize his—"

"Wait. I don't want to go up. Can't she meet me down here?" I interrupted.

"One moment, Mr. Scout... Ma'am, your visitor would like to know if you could meet him in the lobby?... I see... No problem, ma'am. I'll let him know. Thank you and good night."

He hung up and turned to me with a smile.

"Mr. Scout, Ms. Eagan informed me that she's not feeling well enough to come down—and insisted that you go up."

My idea was to speak with her in public. She makes me nervous, and being alone with her in a room wasn't going to help—but I needed to get this weight off my chest, or I'd suffocate.

So I agreed. The smiling attendant led me to the elevator, used a room key to call it, and told me I'd exit directly into the room, so he couldn't accompany me.

As the elevator doors closed, my heart began to race again. I felt like this was a terrible idea—but at the same time, if I didn't go through with it, the anxiety in my chest would explode.

#mark scout #ruptura #severance #markhelly #markhelena #fanfic #fanfiction #Spotify

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themarshmallownerd · 2 months ago

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New Chapter: A Lazarus Drug

Link: Chapter 10

Previous: Chapter 9

First: Chapter 1

A/N: *repost because tumblr didn't show the original post in the tags homophobic activity*

A lot of content warnings for this chapter. Graphic depiction of violence, talks of cannibalism, discussions of death that borders on passive suicide ideation, description of wounds, being mean to characters who didn't do anything, and Shauna getting up to questionable antics.

Even I had to take a break during the angst of this chapter, hence my unrelated smutty LottieNat one-shot. So if anyone needs a palette cleanser like I did, that can be found here!

Preview: Misty was pretty used to being excluded by her teammates. She’d accepted that some of them just flat out didn’t like her, even now, after she’d proved herself competent as a pseudo-medic for them.

But damn, if being reminded of that as they crowd her and yell at her didn’t hurt.

“You’re the one who said Jackie would find Crystal!” Mari was shouting. “How do we know you didn’t also tell her to do something to her?”

Misty pressed herself in-between the wall and the edge of the fireplace, fighting not to cry at the humiliation and overwhelm of Mari and the JV girls surrounding her with bitter, accusatory stares. “No…” she argued weakly. “I wanted…she was my best friend! I just wanted Jackie to find her!”

“If she was such a good friend to you, why didn’t you try to find her yourself?” Gen demanded.

At her side, Melissa added, “You were the one who saw where she last went in the snow.”

Mari answered in Misty’s stead. “Because she’s fucking psychotic! I mean—God, she tried to kill Coach Scott when she was supposedly in love with him! She probably did something to Crystal, too, and told Jackie to hide it.”

“No!” Misty cried. “No! That’s not…why would I…?”

She struggled to find the right words, her thoughts too busy with fighting the tears that were starting to blur the edges of her vision. Busy with fighting the thick ball of grief eclipsed her windpipe, making it all the more difficult to breathe, let alone think.

What Mari was saying…wasn’t that what she had done, in a sense?

No…no, what happened to Kristen was an accident. She fell on her own!

All Jackie had said was that she’d ‘fix it.’ Misty didn’t entirely know how, but she’d trusted Jackie anyway.

She had just wanted someone to take care of the problem for her.

She just wanted someone to take care of her, period.

“I didn’t want this,” she finally managed to say, feeling her voice tremble with the beginning of a sob. “I…I loved her. I didn’t want this—I didn’t want any of this.”

“Well you have a lousy fuckin’ way of showing it!” Mari returned heatedly, taking a heavy step towards the smaller girl.

Misty instinctively curled in on herself, bracing herself for some kind of shove or hit in the wake of the angry movement.

However, Mari didn’t come any closer. In fact, the whole cabin’s attention was stolen by movement in their collective peripheral vision. Two figures crossing the threshold of the front door.

Jackie. And at her heels, like a nervous stray following her home, Lottie.

Everyone else in the room instantly fell quiet. Mari and the JV girls surrounding Misty even took a step backward each, putting space between the door and themselves.

Jackie, in turn, paused in her tracks to stare unblinkingly at each of them. Appraising the way they were standing in a cluster around Misty, with Travis sitting with his brother on the other side of the room, rubbing Javi’s back in silent consolation, and Shauna standing near the two brothers, arms wrapped around herself as if to self-soothe amidst the blanket of anxiety in the air, also watching the others in silence.

A moment later, Natalie joined them, squeezing through the door just behind Lottie. Her expression looked haunted, too wearied to take stock of the situation herself. She merely stood in place in the entryway just behind Jackie, leaning into Lottie’s side as if needing the other girl’s help to stand.

It was like Nat wasn’t afraid of their zombified teammates at all. Like she also trusted their undead peers could still be of help to the rest of them, even if it was for something as simple as physical support.

Misty admired that about the hunter.

“You’re cross with the little one,” Jackie stated, her intense stare now fixed on Mari in particular. “Why?”

Mari swallowed nervously at the attention from her undead former captain. Her gaze pointed down at the floor, refusing to answer the question.

Jackie stalked forward, faded hazel irises never once wavering from their fixed stare on Mari. She came to a stop in-between the other girl and Misty.

The JV girls on either side of Mari shuffled backwards as their former captain drew nearer. Robin and Britt, and Melissa and Gen huddled together in pairs, feigning interest in starting their own unrelated conversations. Akilah stayed near Mari, compulsively stroking something inside her pocket and throwing worried glances at her friend in the corner of her eye.

“What do you intend to do with your anger?” Jackie asked plainly. “Do you want to strike her? Kill her?”

Misty’s stomach dropped at those suggestions. A shuddery breath fell out of her, betraying just how close she was to breaking down into a fit of sobs.

Akilah piped up, although her voice was small. “We’re just trying to understand what happened last night.”

Jackie continued to stare at Mari. “What’s there to understand? Quigley made a sacrifice. She let It take her most beloved friend. The body was useless to us, so we made use of it for you. You all were living off scraps. We made a full meal for you out of Small Bite’s sacrifice. She provided that for you.”

The former captain tilted her head with thought. She took a single step closer, crowding into Mari’s space not unlike how Mari was doing to Misty mere moments ago.

“And you?” she questioned lowly, as though her words were a challenge. “What have you sacrificed for the good of the pack, Mariana?”

Mari flinched at the use of her full name like it was a physical blow.

Jackie straightened her head, looking enticed by the reaction.

All of a sudden, she lunged forward, snapping her teeth at Mari’s face.

The other girl instinctively jerked backwards, uttering a small whimper of panic. Even Akilah reacted, darting forward a step and grabbing her shoulders as though to steady her.

Jackie leaned backwards, no longer in Mari’s personal space. Her eyes flitted up and down Mari’s form, appraising her anew. The tiniest of smiles sprouted on her face as if she was resisting the urge to laugh.

Misty could feel the corners of her mouth twitch, sharing the same feeling as Jackie. Though it wasn’t from amusement at Mari’s expense (well, not entirely, that is). She was just that relieved that Jackie was defending her, as opposed to continuing to let the other girls throw accusations at her like she’d originally thought.

Jackie turned away, though it was clear she was still speaking to Mari as she said dismissively, “Your time will come soon enough. Go on. And leave the small bite to be.”

With nothing else, she walked away, giving a low huff as she went.

A few feet away, Lottie visibly twitched at the sound. She sighed shortly, throwing a conflicted look at the empty-eyed Natalie beside her before begrudgingly following after Jackie.

Misty quickly scurried after the pair, stopping when they did just past the threshold to the adjacent kitchen area. “Jackie?” she whispered as the girl in question turned to face her. “I…I just wanted to say thank you. No one’s ever stood up for me like that.”

Jackie hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head back slightly as she stared down at Misty. It wasn’t in the same analytical sense she’d done with Mari, but rather a harmless once-over, akin to seeing a familiar acquaintance for the first time in a long while.

“I only speak the way I do because it’s true,” the former captain stated matter-of-factly. “As I said before, I see you, petit bout. You’ve done well for this lot.”

Misty felt a fresh set of tears welling up inside of her. However, this time, they came from a place of softness, of overwhelming relief. She was so touched. She had never felt so…well, seen before.

“I…thank you, Jackie,” was all she could manage to say in response.

Jackie hummed again. Her lusterless hazel eyes shifted to look up at Lottie at her side.

Lottie hesitated. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, though it only lasted a second.

The former prophet stepped closer to Misty. She raised one arm stiffly, pausing for a heartbeat more, as though questioning what her own body was doing. Then, she wrapped both arms around Misty’s shoulders, holding the other girl’s smaller form to her body.

Misty, on the other hand, didn’t think twice before returning the embrace, curling her own arms snugly around Lottie’s middle. The other girl’s body was cool to the touch, lacking the natural body warmth of the others that were milling about the cabin. But still, the pressure of her embrace was nice. Grounding.

It was a little surreal. Thrilling in its strangeness. Lottie had always been…courteous to Misty. Never mean to her, but never quite this affectionate either.

It was a welcome change after the chaos of the rest of that morning.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #JackieShauna #TaiVan #LottieNat #Shauna Shipman #Jackie Taylor #Taissa Turner #Van Palmer #Misty Quigley #Natalie Scatorccio #Lottie Matthews #my stories #did I include a mini timeskip just so Nat and Tai would have their early s3 hair?#yes absolutely

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rotating-hyperfixations · 2 months ago

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Synopsis:

Natalie Scatorccio is just trying to keep herself and her mom afloat until she goes to college. Shauna Shipman works on accepting how she truly is and that living in her car is just a temporary solution until she finds something more permanent.

How Ben Scott acquires guardianship of two of students.

The Coach Ben older brothers Shauna and Nat fic that I mentioned months ago, is finally live! Well at least chapter 1 is, I go into more detail in my authors note; but this will be a series one/two shots that explore the similarities between Nat and Shauna’s trauma and the very different ways they react to it and their relationship with Ben in a no plane crash AU. All of this will also get added to a fic that has the chapters in chronological order, so you can read it that way as well. Nat’s chapter is up first and Shauna’s is mostly done, and hopefully I’ll have it up by Saturday; depending on how work is tomorrow.

Thanks for reading and enjoy!

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfiction #shauna shipman #natalie scatorccio #ben scott

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freshbakedbreadstick · 2 years ago

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No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts.

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening.

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text.

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.'

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:'

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?'

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door.

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-"

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!"

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe."

With a weak smile, you headed off.

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car.

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window.

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes.

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'.

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up.

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you.

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement.

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand.

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in.

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in.

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef.

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen.

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath.

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-"

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face.

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost."

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!"

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight.

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away.

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips.

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said.

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter.

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved.

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped.

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…"

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever.

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie.

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on.

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be.

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed.

And in front of that crowd was Carmy.

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning.

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes.

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello".

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen.

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!"

Your shoulder sagged.

Home.

You were home.

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?"

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument.

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker.

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?"

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay."

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through.

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him.

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention.

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you.

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver.

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out.

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids.

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again.

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut.

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you.

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing.

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something.

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you.

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy.

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event.

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh.

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed.

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces.

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers.

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself.

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize.

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said.

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside.

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #reader #carmen berzatto x reader #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #carmy the bear #richie the bear #mikey the bear #carmy berzatto imagine #richie berzatto imagine #mikey berzatto imagine #sugar berzatto #natalie berzatto #neil fak

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