#day 1 overweight

[torachan39103]

*casually living and chilling, eating teeny tiny snacks while doing so cause why not.*

"oh damn the bags empty"

*checks bag*

"400 FUCKING GRAMS?"

[444lotus]

how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౨ৎ

This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)

PART ONE - the old story

In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.

Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.

When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.

PART TWO - writing the new story

Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;

"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."

"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."

"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."

The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?

PART THREE - how i did it

Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?

All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.

And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.

And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.

I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.

That's all for now ౨ৎ

[taxifurbied]

whats it gonna take to get my doctor to take me seriously ffs

[whassupp]

The real side of - Lilith through the signs and houses 🧞‍♀️🎀🔪 (asteroid 1181) *house 1-6*

Lilith in 1st/Aries house

Here lilith is the darkest. It affects the person appearance. They may be insecure about themselves. People are jealous of them because of their looks, they are talking behind their back. They might act tough and these people attract violence. They are prone to violence, fights. People comment about their appearance so much and it’s the first thing people notice about them. They attract stalkers and people might use them for their body. They are intimidating.

Lilith in 2nd/Taurus house

People that have this placement are prone to financial losses. People are jealous of the things you possess and the things you wear, anything that is aesthetically pleasing about you or that you have. People may steal the things you own and gossip about the things you own. Dark things happen to you where your money is involved. You either owe money to someone and can’t give them back so you have serious problems with them, or you have money and people ow you money and don’t give them back. Either way you have serious problems involving money.

Lilith in 3rd/Gemini house

Here people gossip a lot about you. You have issues involving neighbors and issues with your sibilings maybe. People are jealous of the way you make so much connections by talking to others and meeting new people. There is violence involved with the neighbors maybe you don’t get on with them and there is serious issues involved. Also violence happening between you and your sibiling like not fighting but in a way where you despise eachother and there are issues. Anyone people do gossip about you so be aware.

Lilith in 4th/Cancer

People are attracted to your chest area. You attract stalkers who sexualize your chest. Issues involving family. You have a dark home live. Involving violence at home and you not feeling save. Female figures see you as a threat. People take advantage of your kindness and walk all over you. You may like kids but don’t want one of your own. Prone to attracting manipulative partners, you are also manipulative. You sometimes don’t feel save in your home. I have this placement and i know how it feels😞.

Lilith in 5th/Leo

Here people are jealous of your hair and comment about it a lot. They may laugh about your hair or tease you about it so you might be insecure about it. Also people are jealous of your talents so they mock you when you try to show your talent. That makes you insecure about what you love to do and you can’t fully express it because you are scared of judgement. Keep shining tho they hate to see it 😉.

Lilith in 6th/Virgo

Issues involving health or every day routine. You struggle with routine meaning you hate when things are not going as planned and that may happen alot since lilith is here. Also struggles with body health you may be overweight or underweight. People may comment on your weight. And that makes you insecure about your body. Struggles with work. You can’t find a place to work in or your colleagues at work may be too harsh on you, they may expect you to do all the work. Prone to attracting stalkers at work.

‘Important- if these observations don’t apply to you then lilith isn’t a prominent planet in your chart.

Prominent lilith:

Lilith making strong aspects with personal planets(sun,moon,mercury,venus,mars,asc,mc)

Lilith in the 1st, 8th house

[loganswdc]

every day i learn something new about logan sargeant and his racing career, not just about his performance in f1 but in f2 and previous series, too. and every day i end up so sad because he genuinely has so so much potential and can do so much but he keeps being give a poor hand of cards. this guy out qualified his teammate in f2 TEN TO FOUR. and who was his teammate?? liam lawson. liam joined redbull’s driver academy in february of 2019 while logan only got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in october of 2021. that team was williams. which, as we know, hasn't exactly been the best performing team in recent years. oscar piastri got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in january of 2020 (the renault sport academy, later rebranded as the alpine academy). liam and oscar both got the opportunity to do f1 tests for YEARS prior to their f1 debuts in 2023. liam had 4 and a half years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. oscar had 3 years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. even if it was just testing and practice sessions, it's still something.

what did logan get? one measly fp2 session, post-season testing, and then jumped right in to pre-season testing in 2023. he already had a seat in williams then, so with the experience from before the pre-season testing in 2023 he got to do maybe 800km of testing in an f1 car. the others — in this case i mean oscar, liam, and heck even nyck de vris — had opportunities to drive f1 cars and gain experience for YEARS before logan. if you look at nyck de vris: he got signed to the mclaren young driver programme in 2010. he joined the audi sport racing academy in 2016.  granted, he left the mclaren programme in before the 2019 season and left audi after the 2019 season, too. but he then went to mercedes as a reserve driver and tester for 2020 and afterwards. this means he got just about a DECADE AND A HALF of teams putting their time and energy into training him to join f1.

logan got a year. one. single. fucking year. that is entirely incomparable to the other rookies from 2023, who had so much more experience before hand. and yet logan was jumped into f1 and the expectations were so high for a guy who hasn't had the chance to train and learn and gain experience.

and yet when we look at the 2022 f2 season, logan sargeant, a rookie, was 1 point off from his teammate —the one and only liam lawson — scoring p4 in the championship. he outqualified his teammate 10 to 4. he was the first american to win an f2 race (that is, of course, following the rebrand from gp2 to f2, but regardless, that’s still an important thing to note and an achievement of his that should be celebrated).

logan sargeant has so much potential and if only williams would show him a little more faith unlike what they’ve been doing, if only they’d give him the same upgrades as alex, if only they wouldn’t force him to drive a car 15kg overweight from that of his teammate’s car, if only they wouldn’t force him to use outdated rear and front wings from the season prior. then perhaps he would have a chance to show what he can do. perhaps if he wasn’t stuck in a team with a crap car who have shown zero faith (which has been vehemently obvious since the circus in australia) in him and made him absolutely miserable, a shell of himself — which you can clearly see in recent interviews and photos of him — then maybe he’d be able to show how good he really is. and maybe if williams hadn’t been so adamant about taking him out of f2 so quickly and let him develop for one more year, we’d be seeing headlines that say “logan sargeant, first american f1 driver on the podium since michael andretti in 1993.” and perhaps we could even see him winning races.

no matter what someone says about his current f1 performances — though most base that solely off of where he ends up on the grid rather than looking at his actual driving and seeing how good he is as a driver considering the crap circumstances he’s in — logan sargeant is a better driver than what everyone says. he is trying so insanely hard to get a car that is miles off from the rest of the field to place as high as humanly possible. no one can say that if you put another driver in that car that logan is driving they'd be doing better than he is now. the fact is, they wouldn't be. he's been given an absolute tractor and is expected to score points when that car isn't built for getting in the points. and yet logan managed to get p10 in the miami sprint race — which should be recognized and commended. because he was in an awful car and he absolutely shined that day. that was just the start of showing what he could do. but he hasn't been given the same resources as alex, those being the upgrades, so what more can he do compared to what he's doing now?

and i am actually sitting here crying as i type this because this is a driver who is giving it his all even when the entire world is against him, even when his entire TEAM is against him, and he is persevering to the best of his abilities. and i know exactly what it’s like to sit here, wanting to reach for your dreams and show everyone how good you are, but to have only your closest friends and family on your side, rooting for you. what it’s like to look everywhere around you and see everyone calling you crap and saying you should quit and that you aren’t and never will be good enough. to look around and see your closest friends and family cheering for you, yet feeling like crap because you aren't doing as well as you would want, feeling inferior to everyone around you.

news flash: logan sargeant is and will always be good enough. he just needs the opportunity to show it, and williams is ruining that for him.

and yes, i will defend him with my life. people who try to say otherwise can try to do the same hours — the WEEKS — worth of research that i’ve done about logan and his career because he IS a good driver and HE DESERVES BETTER.

any hate comments towards logan will be deleted, because i have neither the time nor the energy to deal with that and argue with logan haters. i've said all of what i know and can remember about him and his career above, and will add what i can as time goes on and i remember something else or learn something new. if you have the time to hate on logan, you have the time to do your research and examine the fact that he has the potential to do well, but is not in a position for that because of the abhorrent circumstances he is currently in.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. edit: i'd also really recommend reading this twitter thread!! it goes into some more depth on logan and his f2 / f1 career, and even a little bit about his f3 career. it's very informative and articulates much of logan's career and why he is a better driver than many believe very well. https://x.com/herrocult/status/1795747913588761027

[foone]

Joking about BMI under the cut

BMI is a great* measure of obesity. For example, if you're a 5'5" man who weighs 214lb, your BMI is 35.6: obese, because that's 30 and up.

Now if you want to get it down to merely overweight, you need to get down to 179lb, meaning you have to lose 35 lbs. Safely losing 35lb should be done at 1-2lb a week, so you're looking at 122 days.

But you can get a limb lengthing surgery, and go from 5'5" to 5'11" in merely ninety days, without losing a single pound! Now that you're taller, your BMI (5'11" @ 214lb) is 29.8, merely overweight.

Clearly all these weightloss diets and exercises and everything is misplaced. We don't need to get thinner, we just need to get taller.

* sarcasm

[sikayeto]

[0000] Friday the 28th

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

[michael robinavitch x offspring/daughter reader]

[tw: descriptions of a violent assault]

[summary: robby hopes it's not too late]

[a/n: last part! i'm so excited for you guys to read it! thank you for all the support! if you want to talk about the series, please feel free to leave a message in my inbox or even a comment! enjoy <3]

[ source (CONTAINS SPOILERS) ]

MASTERLIST

[1] [2]

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

He wasn’t a stranger to shame. In fact, he would say that they’re very close acquaintances. Every time shame, guilt, or fear shows up in his life, he tries to bury it six feet deep. Because if you don’t bury those negative feelings, they end up either burying you or, worse, your patients. Do you know who brings up those feelings? The ghosts of the fucking dead that you let die. 

Dr. Michael Robinavitch is no stranger to shame, guilt, or fear. Would love to be a stranger to the ghosts that haunt him. He tries his goddamn best every day to bury those feelings so that he doesn’t have to bury any more patients, people, or family. But the hole you dig can only bury so much grief.

When you live hand in hand, married to your grief, do you really live life? Are you experiencing moments in their full capacity? The conversations you have with the people close to you. The things that you do with or to them. There have to be moments where you’re so weighed down that you’re not present at all. That you don’t remember small things. Where you put your earbuds. Eating a meal. Promising to have dinner with your kid.

Fuck. He forgot that he was supposed to be home at 8 to have dinner with his kid. He said he would be there. How long has it been since he’s even seen or talked to them in person? Fuck, they live in the same fucking apartment. 

Shame, guilt, and fear of a different kind bubble and boil in his chest cavity and enter his throat. The taste of vomit threatening to overtake his taste buds He forgot; he completely fucking forgot. 

There are weights in the soles of his shoes, pulling him down with each step closer to home. Dread is ice cold in his veins, and he’s scared that his heart isn’t circulating enough in his system to poison him. Maybe that would be for the better. 

What’s worse than the ghosts of the dead hanging on your shoulders? The disappointment of your child. Who’s alive and here? Alert, awake, blood pumping, air in their lungs. He’s so focused on the people who are already gone that he forgot his fucking kid. 

They said they had news. What news? Good news? Bad news? Did they talk to him about it already? He can’t recall what their last conversation was even about. Was it about the cat? Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. 

He’s so fucked.

He rubs both hands against his face in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes and the increasing migraine at his temples. 

Entering their apartment building, he jogs up a flight of stairs to get to his floor. The apartment at the end of the hallway is theirs. He tries to think of a justifiable reason for being 4 and a half hours late to dinner, with no text or call to warn them. Is there any reason he could give that he hasn’t already given before?

Unlocking the door, Reggie greets him with an escape attempt into the hallway. He quickly scoops up his frankly overweight cat before it could escape any further. Bringing Reggie up to his chest to rest on his shoulder. “Hey buddy,” he nervously greets. 

Reggie was normally a docile, affectionate creature. But at times he would freak out on Robby and attack him for no reason. There are a few light scratch lines on his ankles from previous assassination attempts. But he never attacked you. Robby was just the spare human to Reggie.

He closes the door behind him and sets Reggie back down. The apartment is mostly dark, only lit by a singular light fixture above the dining room table. Upon closer inspection, Robby sees dinner. It’s untouched, most likely cold. Or is that just him? 

Seeing the perfect dinner drops a boulder in his stomach. Acid more prominent on his tongue. He looks toward the door at the end of their hallway. Your bedroom door. He sees a soft light emanating from the open slit at the bottom of the door. He follows it to your door and knocks.

“Hey, honey,” there’s a tremble in his tone, “I’m so sorry I missed dinner. Time got away from me. And I know that’s not an excuse.”

There’s only silence from the other side of the door.

“You have every right to be mad at me; that’s totally understandable. But, can you please come out so that we can talk?”

Robby wonders if this is what they feel like. Being ignored. 

A soft texture suddenly touching his leg makes Robby jump a little. He quickly looks for the source and finds Reggie. 

Reggie, who jumps at the doorknob, turning it with his paws, and opening the door. It creaks open slightly, and he walks fluidly inside.

“What the fuck?” whispers a bewildered Robby. “Since when could you do that?”

He pushes the door wider ajar and scans your bedroom. Everything looks to be in its place. But you aren’t here.

Whatever fear of consequences Robby had earlier is replaced with absolute fucking horror. 

- - -

“Hey kiddo, can you stay awake for me?” Jack knows fear like the back of his hand. It’s been an old friend for a majority of his life. He thought that he stopped letting it affect him years ago because he learned that if he let his fear control him, people would die. He knew that in this exact moment, if he let his fear spread through his body, he would be letting Robby’s kid die. “Someone get me a face mask with 10 litres of O2!” 

After calling out his name, you became unresponsive. Jack’s never seen you so battered and bruised. “Let’s get them in a room STAT! And somebody get me a CT booked NOW!”

Getting your gurney into an open room, the team starts working on hooking you up to assess your vitals. Whitaker and Mel enter the room with a few nurses and one of the paramedics. Jack assesses you from head to toe and looks to Whitaker. “Alright, tell me what you see, Whitaker.”

Whitaker looks up at him surprised and nervously reports, “Uh, they have a laceration on their scalp with foreign material embedded inside; it looks like glass. Echymosis around the throat.” 

“It looks like they were choked” goes unsaid but hangs in the air.

He asks aloud to the paramedic, “What was her GCS?”

“13, responsive to speech but confused, able to follow commands,” the paramedic replies. 

Whitaker attempts to wake you up. “Hello? Can you wake up for us?” He tries to rub your sternum to get a reaction from you, but to no luck. “They’re unresponsive to pain.”

Jack grabs his penlight, opens your eyelids, and shines it into each of your eyes separately. “One pupil is bigger than the other. What does this tell us, Whitaker?”

“Cushing’s Triad. BP is 222/106, bradycardia, abnormal respirations, and blown pupils. They’re in late-stage ICP; there’s increasing pressure on the side with the bigger pupil.”

Jack nods at him, “Not bad. What could be causing the ICP, Dr. Whitaker? And what do we need to do to make sure it doesn’t continue to increase and kill our patient?”

“The head trauma could have caused blood to pool and clot, causing ischemic stroke, or they could just be having an intracranial hemorrhage. We won't know until they get a CT and the results come out. But we need to decrease ICP and try not to have it increase any more than it already is,” rambles off Whitaker.

“Mhm, solid call. I need IV mannitol and 50 mcg of fentanyl IM. Dr. King, bring the head of the bed up 30 degrees.”

“On it!” Mel says as she rushes over to readjust the head of the bed angle. 

“Dr. King, in cases of increased cranial pressure, do we treat the large differential BP?” Jack casually asks.

“No, not until we get a CT first. Treating a BP more than 220 if it’s an ischemic stroke is a bad idea because collateral blood flow is dependent on blood pressure. If we suddenly try to lower her BP without knowing if it's an ischemic stroke, we could be reducing circulation and oxygen flow to the brain.”

One of the nurses finishes hanging a bag and says, “Mannitol is up, and 50 mcg of Fentanyl IM has been administered.”

The vital sign numbers on the screen start stabilizing, and the tension in the room dissipates. Jack looks to Mel and Whitaker. “You two, clean and stitch up their head laceration. Monitor them until CT is ready.”

Jack moves to leave the room and doesn’t look back to answer Mel when she asks, “Dr. Abbot, where are you going?”

“To let the family know”

- - -

Hi, you’ve reached my phone! Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!

“Sweetie, this is Dad. I’m really worried about you. Please call me back as soon as you can.”

Hi, you’ve reached my phone! Leave a message and I’ll

“Honey, I know that you’re mad at me. But I need to know that you’re safe. Come home. Please.”

Hi, you’ve reached my ph-

“Please. Just please call me back. Send a text. Anything. Please, be safe.”

His phone rings, and his hands scramble to grab and answer it. His shoulders fall in disappointment when he sees Jack on the caller ID. He swipes right to answer the call. 

“Jack?” he greets. “Now isn’t really a good time.”

“Robby, your kid is here.”

His whole world stops. The worst-case scenario has arrived. He feels his heart rate spike and his vessels constricting to raise his blood pressure. He whispers back, “I’ll be right there.”

- - - 

He thinks he must have broken a few traffic laws with how fast and loose he drove to get to the emergency room in record time. His vision is a bit blurry, and he’s got a headache behind his eyes again. Rushing through the emergency room entrance, he ignores the greetings of familiar employees. Dark brown eyes darting left and right, trying to spot one Dr. Jack Abbot. 

“Robby!” he hears his name being called out. A quick turn reveals the man of his focus, and he runs to his friend. 

Jack sees a dangerous kind of look in Robby’s eyes. The look of a man who’s on the verge of losing everything. When Robby reaches him, he puts his hands on the sides of Robby’s upper arms to steady him. “Brother, I need you to calm down.”

Robby looks at Jack like he’s fucking insane. “Calm down? My kid’s missing from home, and you call me telling me they’re here. I’m not fucking calming down.”

“Well, if you don’t calm down, I’m not going to be able to let you see them, and you’re not going to listen to me about their current state.” Jack replies with raised eyebrows, trying to get his point through.

Robby thinks he glares so hard at Jack that he should have a hole in him by now. He relents and takes a few deep breaths with his eyes closed. Opens them and raises his own eyebrows at Jack, silently asking him to continue.

“They came in with something in their system, a head laceration with signs of trauma, and rapidly developing ICP. We gave them IV Mannitol and 50 mcg of IM Fentanyl. Vitals stabilized, and they got sent up to CT. CT showed brain hemorrhage, and they’re in surgery now to fix it.”

“What happened to them?”

Jack looks conflicted. Doesn’t know whether or not to tell Robby that someone did this to his child. Someone hurt them. And that they were treating the bastard just a few rooms over for a collapsed lung caused by a stab wound. So instead of bearing that burden, he shifts it. “The police want to talk to you about that, actually. Two detectives arrived after the ambulance and wanted to ask them a couple of questions after they get out of surgery and stabilize.”

He points at two figures dressed in business casual near the nursing station, having a discussion with two coffee cups in hand. Dana is with them, writing down a few things and nodding along at them. 

Robby takes long strides over to them, desperate to get an answer. His incoming presence catches their attention, and they look toward him. 

“Robby! What are you doing here?” Dana exclaims in surprise.

“Dr. Robinavitch? You’re the father of the victim?” the male detective asks.

“I am. What happened to my kid?”

“Your child was the most recent victim in a string of rape and murder cases my partner and I are investigating. We think that the man that attacked the victim is our culprit. His MO is drugging potential victims with a roofie, isolating them, and using blunt force trauma to knock them out. After getting them to an isolated location, he chokes them until they die from asphyxiation,” the female detective answers, her tone and face equally serious.

Robby is in disbelief. His kid was almost raped and murdered. All because he didn’t come home for dinner on time.

“Wait, you said that he rapes them too. That wasn’t included in your description of his MO,” Jack mentions.

The detectives look at each other awkwardly. “He rapes them posthumously.”

The statement sends out a shockwave of disgust between all of them. Dana looks at Robby, his face deathly pale. Hearing news that horrible things could have happened.

The male detective coughs, “Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. Security camera footage of the club bathroom shows that the victim regained consciousness while being choked and managed to grab a shard of glass and use it to stab the suspect on the side of his chest. Someone found them, called 911, and paramedics arrived. Your child is a very strong person, Dr. Robinavitch.”

“Yeah, they are,” Robby barely manages to choke out.

“We have to take our leave; please call us when they regain consciousness and are ready to make a statement,” states the female detective.

“Wait,” Robby interrupts. “You said that he was stabbed. Where is he now? PTMC is the closest hospital.”

The detectives didn’t say anything, and neither did Dana. But they looked. Just a small glance. At the room behind Robby. The curtains were drawn closed behind the glass doors. Robby saw, and he walked with a purpose. 

“ROBBY, NO!” shouts Dana.

He opens the door with force, enters, and closes it behind him. 

Inside the room is the man who hurt his child, with Langdon, Santos, and Ellis standing beside him. They abruptly pause what they’re doing to look at Robby’s sudden interruption. Santos’ hands mid-insertion of a chest tube catheter into the man’s pleural cavity. 

Robby wonders if the man knew what it was like. To not be able to breathe. The oxygen he deprived his victims of, using his own hands. The hands that wrapped themselves around the delicate throat of his child and attempted to squeeze the life out of it. Wonders if the sensation of drowning in his own blood is a similar one. 

Langdon breaks the silence.

“Hey boss, a little early for your shift. Did someone call in?”

Robby doesn’t avert his gaze from the man. Like a predator watching his prey.

“Boss?” Langdon asks, concerned. “You okay?”

“He assaulted my kid.”

Santos’ eyes widen and stare at the man who currently has a tube halfway in. Nobody moves or says anything. They stare at Robby, the man, and at each other.

“Robby,” Langdon starts, “you can’t be here.”

“He roofied them. Bashed their head in. And then choked them. He only stopped because they woke up and stabbed him with a glass shard.”

Silence had never been so loud.

Robby stared at the man a bit longer. Burns the image of his face into his memory. And leaves the way he came in.

The room stays silent, even after he leaves.

- - -

Jack and Dana find Robby on the roof. Standing at the edge, where Jack has stood himself before. They approach him slowly.

Robby doesn’t turn to look at them when he speaks. “They said they had good news to tell me during dinner. I lost track of time and got home 2 hours late. There was a beautiful dinner on the dining table. Ham, mashed potatoes, all the works. It was cold. I thought they were angry at me for missing dinner and locked themselves into their room. But they weren’t there. They were missing. If I were home on time. If I just came home like I was supposed to. They would’ve never gone to the club and gotten attacked.”

Dana looks at him sadly and softly protests, “Robby, you don’t know that.”

He laughs, “Maybe not. But this was the last straw for them, you know. Too many missed meals. Plans I’ve cancelled because, apparently, I would rather be at work than spend time with my child. Who I now notice knows absolutely nothing about it. And you know why? Because I treat this place more like my kid than I ever did them. I put more of my time and effort into this place than my own goddamn child. Look where that’s got me. I’m going to lose them. I’m going to lose them before I even know them, and it’s my own fucking fault.”

“So you’re giving up?” Jack asks. “Just like that? Is this your attitude when they wake up after surgery? Feeling sorry for yourself?”

Robby doesn’t answer him.

“Get over yourself, Robinavitch!” Jack shouts. “They need you! They’ve always needed you! Don’t give up hope on them. That’s the worst thing you can do!”

Robby finally turned his head to shout back at Jack, “What am I supposed to do then?!”

“Be there for them, you fucking idiot!” 

Realization hits Robby like a semi-truck.

“That’s all they ever wanted.”

Tears flood Robby’s eyes and flood down his cheeks. He lets out a sob. Dana and Jack rush to get him off the ledge of the hospital roof, and they bring Robby into their arms. 

- - -

You look so fragile, lying there in the hospital bed. The only other time he’s seen you this fragile was when you were just born. Small baby, soft, delicate, new to the world, its horrors and beauties. And when your mom left, you stopped being so fragile. Stop asking him to patch up your scraped knees. Asking him to help with homework. Asking him for anything. He can’t say that a small part of him wasn’t grateful that you were an easy child to raise. Never had a rebellious phase as a teen. Top grades in every class. Robby never had to worry about you. He just got used to you not needing him anymore. At some point, he thought he needed you more. You took care of the house. Made sure he ate and took care of himself. Always there for him, but never for you. 

He walks up to your sleeping form. Pulls up the chair by the wall towards your bedside and sits down. He places a hand against your face and rubs your cheek. You look so fragile.

He grasps your hand in his. 

His vision is blurred, this time because of tears. The exhaustion from his shift and the day’s events catches up to him, and fatigue overtakes him. His eyelids feel heavy and slowly start to close. He lays his head down on the hospital bed, next to his child’s body. Dreaming of the future. Their future, together.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so, so sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being such a shitty dad to you. For all the time together I missed. I’m sorry for never reaching out to you and checking in to see if you’re okay. You checked in on me. Thank you for that. For everything you did, I ever took for granted. I’m going to need you to do one last thing for me, okay? I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes, because I’m not ready to lose you yet. We still have so much time together, and I promise I’m going to be there for you from now on. For everything. I love you, sweetie. So please. Stay with me. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

He doesn’t know how much time passed while he slept. But he feels a soft, repetitive sensation on his hand. He forces his eyes to crack open, and he lifts his head from the mattress. 

He sees you, eyes drowsy but open. Elation overtakes him.

Your eyes connect. 

“Hi, Dad.”

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

comment, comment, comment, comment 🙏

[fandom4]

Greek Gods x Chubby! GN! Y/N. Part 1

Characters: Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon, Hermes, Ares, Aphrodite

Tags: fluffy, romantic, human reader, gods, Chubby reader

P.S. Feel free to write your ideas or requests!!!

Zeus

• Although he preferred beautiful and slender partners with a good physique, you won his heart.

• He likes to watch you eat.

• He's very clingy, so get ready, he will hugs you because you're very soft for him. He likes it.

• He often uses you as a pillow when you sleep together.

• He doesn't care how you dress.

• If you have a complex about your weight, he tries to compliment you.

• Once you heard how lightning struck several men who were laughing at your weight. You asked Zeus about this, but of course he didn't know anything about it:

"Baby, I don't control the lightning, it just flies at the bad people. What? Don't look at me like that."

• He likes to call you a teddy bear or a cloud:

"My cloud, this outfit is beautiful on you. By the way, would you like some pudding?"

Poseidon

• He loves your weight, but he will never tell you about it.

• No matter how you dress. In fact, he really wants you to dress openly, but he knows that you complex are overweight.

• He likes to bury his face in your plump belly. He's also very clingy.

• He's trying to be nice and compliment you, but it doesn't work out very well. He stopped telling you them, when you cried from them, he stopped doing it:

"I really love your weight, you look like a hippopotamus. Ah.... That is, like a pig. I love pigs, and you eat like that too, and...." (Yes, as you can see, he was VERY bad at it. Bu He try !!!)

• He ready to drown anyone who looks at you badly:

"Why are you looking at them so askance? Is there something you don't like?"

• He once tried to sink a ship with merchants who said you were too plump and they didn't have the right clothes on you.

• Likes to use affectionate nicknames such as "seahorse" or "my goldfish"

Aphrodiate

• She likes to make you beautiful fashionable clothes.

• She considers your excess weight to be the highlight of you.

• She likes to call you by affectionate nicknames such as "my baby rabbit" or "little bear"

• Always praises your excess weight. She likes it.

• Next to you, she tries to dress much more inconspicuously. It's difficult for her, but she wants everyone to see how beautiful you are.

• She likes to go shopping with you and choose clothes.

• Complexes ? They are not near Aphrodite.

• She often compliments you about your excess weight.

Ares

• He doesn't care about your excess weight. He is with you because of your character and gentle soul.

• He gives you flowers every day, so you have a whole garden.

• He bakes you sweets every day. He's a great cook, even though he's a warrior. Sometimes you even think that if Ares wasn't the god of war, he would definitely have become the god of sweets or pastries.

• Very jealous.

• He likes to walk in the garden with you. He knows that you often get tired because of excess weight, so he picks you up.

• He also tried to compliment you, but he's even worse at complimenting you than Poseidon.

• Loves to cuddle with you

• No affectionate names

Hermes

• He often inundates you with compliments.

• Likes to flatter.

• Hugs you when he's too angry or too emotionally alienated.

• He likes to tell you about his exploits. So what if you've heard it a hundred times? What's the difference?

• He likes it when you dress openly. Complexes ? He knows nothing about fashion, but he tries and even asks Aphrodite what is fashionable now to please you.

• They're almost gone, and if they are, he'll shower you with compliments and kiss you on the cheeks until you pass out.

• He often brings you pastries. He says he cooks it himself, although in fact he just buys it from the nearest baker.

• Affectionate names? There are a lot of them and every day there is something new, but his most favorite is "my bun"

Appolo

• He likes to dedicate songs to you and play his harp for you.

• Loves dancing with you.

• Once he tried to lift you up, but almost fell down myself, although tried to pretend that you were very light.

• His favorite nicknames are "my moon", "my stars", "my universe".

• Just like Aphrodite likes to take you to different clothing stores.

• He loves it when you stop complex for a while and dress openly.

• He pays you all kinds of compliments.

[ponderingmoonlight]

jjk complilation masterlist

My jjk fic list is so full that the complilations need their own list lol

complilation = different characters seperately in the same scenario

How JJK men react to other girls flirting with them/reader getting insulted ft. Gojo, Megumi and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader ft. Megumi, Nanami and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader part lll ft. Toji, Geto, Haibara and Choso

How JJK men act when they're jealous ft. Megumi and Gojo

JJK men turning the usual confident reader shy ft. Yuta, Geto and Megumi

Shibuya arc scenarios that live in my head rent free part l ft. getting sealed along with Gojo, Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured ft. Nanami, Megumi, Toji and Geto

JJK men in and after a fight ft. Goto, Megumi and Nanami

JJK men in and after a fight pt. ll ft. Geto, Choso and Yuji

JJK men with drunk reader ft. Choso and Nanami

JJK men with drunk reader pt. ll ft. Geto, Megumi and Gojo

JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms) ft. Gojo, Nanami and Megumi

JJK men after hurting (y/n) ft. Choso and Gojo

How JJK men react when you fall asleep on top of them ft. Nanami, Gojo and Inumaki

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 1 ft. Nanami (gn!reader's facial scars), Megumi (fem!reader with small breasts) and Sukuna (gn!reader with acne)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 2 ft. Nanami (reader doesn't want kids), Gojo (reader who gained weight), Megumi (reader with hooked nose)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 3 ft. Nanami (overweight reader), Choso (reader with big breasts), Yuji/Todo (tall/curvy reader)

How JJK men act when you can't sleep ft. Gojo, Inumaki and Megumi

JJK men with a small-chested reader ft. Toji, Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna and Geto

JJK men with a big-chested reader ft. Nanami, Geto, Yuji/Sukuna and Gojo

Stitching JJK men up or at least trying to ft. Gojo, Toji and Yuta

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men ft. Gojo, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna

Making JJK men realize what love is ft. Geto, Sukuna and Toji

Seeing JJK men shirtless for the first time ft. trueform! Sukuna, Nanami, Choso, Gojo and Geto, Ino, Toji and Ijichi

Getting caught while making out with JJK men ft. Geto, Gojo and Nanami

Slow kissing turning into aggressively making out with JJK men ft. Gojo, Sukuna and Toji

Meeting your ex jjk boyfriend again after your breakup ft. Gojo and Toji

JJK men when you go into labor ft. Toji, Geto, Gojo and Sukuna

JJK men pretending to date you to get rid of unwanted attention ft. Geto, Megumi, Choso and Gojo

How JJK men react to seeing you in their clothes ft. Gojo, Megumi, Yuta and Nanami

Going to "your spot" after the breakup and finding your ex jjk men there ft. Gojo, Geto, Megumi and Yuji/Sukuna

Playing truth or dare with jjk men ft. Gojo, Geto Sukuna and Megumi

jjk men comforting you after a rough day ft. Megumi, Gojo, Choso, Yuji and Sukuna

jjk men cheering you up ft. Gojo, Geto, Choso and Sukuna

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 5th Prompt: Reunion

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Babe,” Eddie calls from the kitchen. Steve’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, so he garbles out an unintelligible one minute! before quickly finishing.

He walks into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s eyes are dancing with mirth as he helps Steve fix his collar. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail.”

Steve raises a brow. “You’re acting like my parents are groveling at the door right now.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I’d very much be laughing in their faces if that’s what was happening.” He grabs Steve’s glasses from the counter he’d forgotten them on last night, unfolds them, and carefully slides them on Steve’s face. “No migraines,” he murmurs, and Steve’s hit with a rush of love so big he just has to tell Eddie.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles softly; a small, disbelieving, hopeful thing that’s never changed from the first time Steve said it. “And I, my love,” he murmurs back. “But no, it’s not your parents.” His grin grows into a giggle. “It’s fuckin’ Hawkins High.”

Steve makes a face. “It’s still standing?”

Eddie snorts. “Apparently-fucking-ly.” He grabs two letters; one with Steve’s name, one with Eddie’s. “One letter for each of us. I already opened mine. It’s a reunion.”

Steve furrows his brows, rips into the envelope, pulls the paper out. “Hawkins High School… forty-year reunion… de-” he frowns up at Eddie. “Decennial?”

Eddie hums, nods. “Every ten years. God knows where our other ones went.”

Steve hums. “Guess we can throw these in the trash, huh?”

Eddie shifts. “You don’t want to go?”

Steve stares at him incredulously. “You do? You, Eddie Munson, want to go back to the place where—and these are your words, here—apart from our group of friends, only the- the backwoods of inbreeding resides?”

Eddie cackles. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He’s delighted. Steve’s finding it hard not to smile in the face of that joy.

“So you want to go back?”

Eddie shrugs. “Think about it,” he requests. “I don’t want to go to see how anyone else is doing. Frankly, I don’t have the time to give two shits about them. But you know I’ll always jump at the chance to show you off.”

Steve raises both eyebrows this time. “You want to show me off? In fucking Hawkins?”

Eddie deflates. “You don’t want to go.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, babe, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that even though it’s legal, even though we’re officially married now, if there’s one place that isn’t gonna be accepting…” he trails off, lets Eddie finish the thought for himself.

“What if I convince Nancy to come?”

“Well, she’ll have to come if we go, won’t she? Cause you know she’ll go anywhere Robin does, and Robin’s gonna follow me, so…”

Eddie snickers. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. But babe, we’ll have Nancy and Robin on our side. The three of you took on Vecna, I think you can take on some overweight, washed-up, balding fifty-something-year-old.” He squeezes at Steve’s biceps, and Steve tries not to preen.

He’s proud of the care he’s shown his body, he’s proud of the way he looks, he’s proud that Eddie likes the way he looks. He can feel his resolve waning, is about to tell Eddie fuck it, let’s go, when his phone rings.

He pats his pockets, looks around for it. “Room,” Eddie supplies, and Steve gratefully peck his cheek before jogging to their room, where it’s laying on his nightstand. Eddie walks in as he answers it, having followed at a more sedate pace. “Hello?”

“Are you going to the reunion?”

“Hey, Robbie,” Steve chuckles, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, we are.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “You’re the best, we’re getting joint hotel rooms, right?”

He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s Hawkins, Robs, I don’t think it has anything quite that fancy.”

Robin groans, loud and long enough that both Steve and Eddie have to stifle their giggles. “But I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“It’s been barely a week, Robbie.”

“That’s what I said!”

He relents. “I know. I miss you too. We’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and hangs up.

Steve looks at Eddie, amused. “I guess we’d better pack. And you should tell the guys, don’t you have something going on that day?”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, and runs to the living room for his phone.

Steve surveys their room and sighs. He calls out to Eddie, “bring me a notepad on your way back, please!”

Eddie does, so he sets to work making a list for everything they need to pack while Eddie types away, postponing his plans.

While they might not get joint hotel rooms, Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy are carpooling back to Hawkins in Robin’s van. She’s driving, Nancy’s in the passenger seat, Steve’s right behind Robin and Eddie’s right behind Nancy. Their luggage is piled precariously in the back, meaning every time Robin turns, the luggage slides from one side of the van to the other. Steve, with his mostly-undiagnosed OCD, flinches every time. And every time, Eddie pats his hand.

Besides the shifting suitcases, it’s a nice ride, even if Steve does grab Eddie’s hand and squeeze, just a hair tightly, whenever they pass the Welcome to Hawkins! sign.

Everyone gets a little quiet, after that. Robin fumbles with the radio, and Eddie perks up. “This song,” he says, practically bouncing in his seat.

Steve snorts. “Iron Maiden,” he tells her.

“The fact that you know that-”

“It gets worse,” he tells her, grinning. “The song is called Wasted Years. I know all the words.”

Robin grins, turns the volume up.

The joke’s really on her, though, because she’s always been good at music, patterns, and she’s singing the chorus with him and Eddie by the time they get to the end of the song, Nancy laughing at them. “So understand,” they sing, Robin glancing in the rearview mirror, Steve looking from her to Eddie and back again. “Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make this stand. And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

Steve and Eddie are practically screaming it at each other by the last line. Robin’s given up to join Nancy in laughing at them. Steve joins in as Eddie plays air guitar to the end of the song, collapsing in a laugh when it’s finally over.

“Okay,” Eddie says, grinning. “I think I could take on anything now.”

“Yeah?” Nancy asks, pointing ahead. “You’re ready for the reunion?”

They’d decided, since the last time they took a proper road trip had been too many years ago, they could do it the same day as the reunion.

They’d forgotten how getting old, coupled with the problems every one of them still has from the Upside Down, means they’re all very much sore from sitting in a car for upwards of five hours.

The plan was drive the five-something hours, go to the reunion, crash in the hotel, and drive back home the next day.

Steve hates the plan now and wants to go to the hotel to rest like the old man he’s letting himself be.

However unfortunate it may be, the reunion is today, which means Steve gets to suck it up, say hi to people he probably doesn’t even remember anymore, and then leave.

He hops out of the car and stretches a little, laughing when Eddie attempts the same hop out of the car and almost eats asphalt. “Dumbass,” he mutters. Eddie shoots him a Cheshire grin.

Before long they’re ready to walk inside. Steve takes a breath as he passes through the doors. The hallways are the same, but the lockers are new. It still smells like teenagers and feet, he notices, wrinkling his nose. The things you’ll get nose-blind to, he supposes.

The letters they’d gotten said the reunion was to be held in the gym, so that’s where they head.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a few snack tables along the edge of the room and a single Reunion of ‘85 banner. “Goddamn,” Eddie says from beside him, “depressing much?”

Steve snorts in agreement and walks over to the drink table. If he’s going to talk to people, he’s at least going to have questionable-looking punch while he does.

When he turns after getting punch, he nearly runs into someone. He quickly steps back. “Oh, sorry!” He looks up into the shocked face of Tommy Hagan. He blinks. “Tommy?”

“Steve.”

Steve smiles. “How’ve you been?”

Tommy blinks, like he can’t believe Steve’s being nice to him right now, and that’s when Steve remembers they’d parted on not-so-nice terms. Oh well, he would’ve feigned politeness even if he’d remembered. “I’m good, yeah, uh, how- how’re you?”

“I’m good,” Steve agrees. “Really good. Last I remember you and Carol were dancing around each other, yeah? What happened there?”

“We got married,” Tommy nods.

“Congratulations!”

“And then divorced two years later,” Tommy adds, smirking. Steve winces. “How about you? Last I knew, it was you and Wheeler, ‘cept she cheated on you with Byers, yeah?”

“God,” Steve laughs, “that was so long ago. Yeah, that happened. We talked it through and Nance and I are really good friends now. She’s married to someone else, as am I, but we both keep in touch with Jon, thought he’s out in California now.”

Tommy’s brow raises. “Married? Who’s the lucky girl?”

A presence beside him makes Steve turn to see Eddie grinning at him. “My ears are burning.”

“They should be,” he laughs. “Tommy, you remember Eddie?”

“Munson,” Tommy nods, then does a double take. “Wait, you’re married?”

“As of three years ago now,” Eddie says proudly. “But together for…”

“Thirty-seven years,” Steve provides, smiling at his husband before turning back to Tommy. “Did you ever get remarried after Carol?” Tommy shakes his head.

Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, “You know he totally had the hots for you, right?”

Steve winces at the blast of static from his hearing aid and quickly shuts it off. “Ow,” he mutters, grinning crookedly at Eddie, who looks apologetic. He quickly signs what he’d whispered, and Steve laughs. “Don’t you remember my initial panic?”

Eddie thinks, back to when Steve had asked him what’s gay versus friendly, becoming increasingly confused when most of the things Eddie ticked off in the gay category were things Steve and Tommy had done that Steve had thought firmly resided in the friendly category. “Oh, yeah.”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, pushes him away. “Go talk to someone else. Rescue Robin, she looks like she needs it.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “she can hold her own,” but goes anyways after a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. Steve turns the hearing aid back on.

“Man,” Tommy says wonderingly, “what happened to you?”

“Concussions,” Steve answers flatly. “Three of ‘em. Then I grew up.” He sighs, looks down at his cup, then up at Tommy. “Listen, man, about what we used to do-”

Tommy winces. “I know. I had that revelation a while ago, actually, but it was definitely shitty of me.”

Steve smiles, shrugs. “You had a crush on me. It’s not an excuse, but it does make a certain kind of sense you’d react that way, especially considering the kind of home life you had.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Feel free to stop listening if the therapist side of me comes out. I swear I’m not trying to, like, diagnose you with anything.”

Tommy’s brows raise. “You’re a therapist?”

Steve hums affirmatively. “Started as a school counselor, if you can believe that.”

Tommy fixes him with a wondering grin. “Y’know? I think I can see it.”

“Do my eyes deceive me,” someone says from their side, draping their arms across Steve and Tommy’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug.

Steve comes face-to-face with Carol. He grins. “Hey, Carol.”

“Hey, you,” she says, raking her eyes over him. “Time’s been good to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Steve says happily, but its true; she doesn’t look a day over forty, instead of the fifty-odd she is now. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” she agrees.

They go through the same song-and-dance, but this time when she asks who he’s married to, he sees Eddie juggling water bottles, talking to a couple of people. “Oh, for-” he mutters, then louder, “Eddie, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

Eddie drops a bottle, puts the other two on the table behind him, and jogs over to throw his weight onto Steve. “Making friends.”

Steve snorts, elbows him off. “Say hi to Carol, babe.”

Carol clocks it immediately, based on the twitch of her eyebrow, but only says, “I didn’t peg you two as a couple.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie snorts, “it was Bumfuck, Indiana in the 80’s.”

Carol tilts her head in agreement, then turns to Tommy and says coolly, “Tommy.”

“Carol,” he replies, tips of his ears red.

Eddie looks between them, then turns a raised eyebrow on Steve, who quickly signs, “Married for two years a while ago. I don’t know any details.”

“He clearly is still into her.”

“I refuse to be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

Eddie pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Carol clears her throat. “Sign language?”

Steve snorts. “Turns out brains aren’t supposed to get banged around. You’ve got a real good chance of messing something up that way.”

Eddie pokes his cheek. “‘S not your fault.”

“Never said it was,” Steve placates.

Carol shakes her head. “How many concussions do you have?”

Steve hums. “Three? Four?”

“Three,” Eddie corrects. “Not that we need to get into it right now.” He gives Carol a tight smile, and Steve hip-checks him.

“Down, boy,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m alright.” He turns to Carol with a wider smile. “Long story short, the concussions caused irreparable hearing loss. I’m almost completely deaf in my left ear, but I get by.”

“Damn,” Carol says lightly, “life, huh?”

Steve snorts. “You can say that again.” He tilts his head. “How are you?” He asks. “Really?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “Let’s walk and talk.” Steve offers her his arm, which she takes with a laugh.

“How am I,” she muses. “Well I thought I found love, but we imploded two years later. Thank god for prenups, I guess, but at the same time, that made it feel like we were doomed from the start.”

Steve hums. “Eddie and I have been legally married for three years,” he tells her. “Together for thirty-seven. We’ve got prenups. Not because we think we won’t work, but because we want the people we care about to not have to worry about any of that.” He’s silent for a few steps. “I used to think love is out of our control. That we don’t get to decide who we fall for. And maybe, to a certain extent, that’s true. But love is also a choice you make every day. Eddie and I are still in love because we choose to be.”

“You look at each other like you’re on your honeymoon.”

Steve giggles. “And to think we didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

Carol laughs, too, then sobers. “You always were more fortunate in love,” she says. “What do you think? Do we have a chance?”

Steve hums. “I think it’s obvious, just by looking at him, that he’s still into you.”

“No shit.”

“So what’s important is how you feel. Marriage is work, I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not. So are you ready, and I mean really ready, to work for it?”

She works her lower lip. “I think so,” she admits. “But I- I’m also not completely sure I’m straight.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “Do you know what he and I used to get up to?” He shrugs at her look. “I’m just saying, neither is he.”

“I mean, I definitely still like guys.”

“Well duh, you’ve taken more dick than I have and I’m married to a man.”

She snorts. “But women…”

“I know,” Steve says sympathetically. “It’s hard, isn’t it.” He pats her hand. “If you’re ready to try, though, you need to talk to him.” He turns her around, gestures toward Tommy, who quickly looks away, cheeks burning. They both laugh softly.

Carol leans up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Steve. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Let’s actually keep in touch,” he agrees, handing her his phone. “Where do you live?”

“Columbus for now, but he’s in Dayton.”

Steve hums. “We’re in Detroit.”

“We’ll do phone calls,” Carol decides, laughing.

Steve chuckles, saves her number. “Plan to meet up-”

“Never actually do-”

“Oh, Carol, it’s been so long-”

They both break off into giggles. “You’re fun,” she decides. “I wish we’d kept in touch.”

“To be fair, we competed for title of bitchiest.”

“To be fair, I don’t think we ever grew out of that,” Carol retorted, and Steve snorts, gently shoving her.

“Alright, go get your man, and send mine over here.”

She gently steps on his shoe as she leaves, impish smile in place, and Steve turns only to run into Nancy and Robin. “Hey, guys,” he smiles.

Nancy gives him a look. “Making nice with Carol?”

Steve shrugs, grins at her. “Turns out we were just kids. Who knew, right?”

Just then, Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’re we talking about?”

Nancy smiles at him, wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. “Being kids.”

“That so?” He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, pushes back to look at him. “You look lighter.”

Steve hums. “‘S cause I love you.”

“Charmer,” Eddie mutters, turning bright red. “C’mon, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Steve agrees. “I was talking with Carol about her and Tommy, and I told her that why we work is because we work at it.”

“Very true.”

From behind them, someone cautiously asks, “Eddie Munson?”

They both turn, and suddenly Eddie’s scooping her up in a hug. “Ronnie! What the hell are you doin’ here, huh?”

She laughs and hugs him back just as hard. “Did you ever know a Jackson Starnes?”

Eddie’s brow furrows for a second, then smooths out. “Oh, Jackie! Yeah, he was cool.”

“Mhm. He’s my husband.”

“No shit? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, then nods at everyone else. “Who’s the hunk you were hangin’ off of?”

Eddie chuckles. “Ronnie, meet my husband, Steve.”

She turns an eyebrow on him. “You got married?”

“He proposed,” Steve corrects her, grinning.

“To the preppiest of jocks,” Robin adds.

Eddie laughs. “What can I say? It’s love.” He swoons, placing a hand over his chest, almost pulling Ronnie over with the arm still over her shoulder.

She laughs and dumps him off of her. Steve swoops in before he can fall, hoisting him up with a quick kiss.

“I’m Nancy,” she says, extending her hand to Ronnie. “And this is my wife Robin.”

“Oh!” Eddie says, literally jumping back into the conversation. “Robin and Steve are like how we were.”

“Platonic soulmates,” Steve agrees.

“With a capital P,” Robin emphasizes.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ronnie says.

“How’s Wayne?” She asks Eddie.

“Dead.” He snickers at her face. “‘S alright, Ronnie. It’s been years.”

“Still. I can be sorry.”

“You can,” he agrees. “It won’t help anything, but you can.” He digs his phone out of his pockets, opens his contacts app. “Here, lemme get your number, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ronnie says, “let’s hang out, just lemme know when so I can get a sitter.”

Eddie chokes on nothing. “You have a kid?”

Ronnie grins, a shit-eating thing as she hands his phone back. “Three.”

“Goddamn,” he says, “you got pictures?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, grabs her phone. “What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t? Here, this is Cassie, Alex, and… that’s Elijah.”

“Oh, man, Alex looks just like Jackie, doesn’t he?”

“I carry him for nine months,” Ronnie bitches good-naturedly. “‘Nough about me, though, how’re you? Corroded Coffin ever take off?”

Eddie snorts. “You hear about the psychopath in ‘86?”

“I remember something about it.”

“Yeah. I got caught in the crossfires, wrongfully blamed, and spent…” he looks at Steve. “A year?”

“Almost.”

He turns back to Ronnie. “Almost a year hiding out. Corroded Coffin was officially disbanded after I was allowed out of hiding.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie says, “there goes my entire foot in my mouth, I guess. What’re you doing now, then?”

He chuckles. “A little bit of everything, honestly. A little music, a little writing, a little D&D. Nothing that’s made me a household name, but enough that I’m kept busy and we’re comfortable.”

Ronnie nods. “And how about you?” She asks Steve.

“Oh, nothing as fun as that,” Steve chuckles. “I’m a therapist.”

Ronnie tilts her head. “Any specialties?”

“C-PTSD, mainly.”

“Damn, I know about eight people who could use someone like you.”

Steve snorts. “That’s usually the way it goes, yeah.”

“Well it was great seeing you, Eddie,” Ronnie says. “And meeting all the rest of you. But I’ve got to find my husband and get back home, so we’ll have to continue this later.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” Ronnie nods, then turns and walks off.

They decide to leave not too much later. They’re all tired, so the drive to the hotel is filled with only the sound of the radio, turned almost all the way down.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the ring on Steve’s finger, “she was my first kiss.”

Steve snorts, an explosive thing that he definitely learned from Robin. “She what?”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “I knew I liked girls, but she’s the only one I got close enough to to actually know. We got stupid one night and decided to kiss and it basically went how it would if you and Robin were to kiss.”

“Ew,” Steve says on reflex. Eddie snorts.

Robin slaps at him from her seat, then yells when he slaps back, “Don’t distract the driver!”

“Bitch,” he tells her, “you slapped first!”

“You said ew about kissing me!”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I said it!”

Eddie leans up to murmur to Nancy, “should we break it up?”

“Eh, give it a minute. Once they resort to cursing their lineages we can break it up.”

He chuckles. “Always the wise one, Wheeler.”

“You’d best believe it,” she nods smugly.

“Nancy!” Robin says. “Baby! Defend me!”

“About kissing Steve? Who I’ve kissed before?”

“Oh, no,” Robin says, horrified. “I’m stuck in the car with the two people who are experts on Steve kissing.”

“Why’d you make it sound like a bad thing?” Steve demands.

And… yeah. Eddie’s glad they got separate hotel rooms.

Based on the look Nancy throws his way when they part, she’s glad, too.

[luvmanifesting]

More information about my world!

(sorryyy for spam post 😓 im just really excited)

yk how earth has a sound around the planet right? and so does the other planets and whatever well for my planet it’ll have like a soft beat around it! (maybe a soft fairy-ish sound idk how to explain it)

my planet is the 4th planet from the sun

magic exists heavily in that world but its controlled magic

time does not exist in regards to my post here where i said everyone is immortal

SOME animals can talk (cats, dogs, foxes, sea lions, penguins, bears, elephants and wolves and bunnies)

ocean animals are friendly to humans (that is unless you disturb them or try to kill them)

the species that exist in this world are called “Liminoids” (get it..? “limi” as in like “limitless?” no? just me?☹️)

yes cars and planes exist but they run solely on like magic energy so it doesn’t ruin the planet

zoo’s will not exist in this world every animal lives in healthy environment thats immune to damage

even though i said time doesn’t exist this planet will traditionally celebrate something similar to new years but instead of like “yayy 365 days has passed!!” no we’ll be celebrating the life this planet has given us and we’ll all do something good to the planet as thankfulness. the fireworks will be used from magic!

the planet is free from any type of universal damage

everyone in this world is born with an element but that element won’t activate until the age of 16 (immortality again, people can still age by numbers but their body will not change. they will still look like a person in their 20s people can select their age here whenever they turn 18)

foods here will not make people overweight or obese (you can gain muscle)

instead of regular hair colors people in this world are born with various colors or 1 color

(im still thinking about it) maybe i’ll add like a special machine to where the people in this planet would maybe like to travel to earth! (they would be given procedures to keep their identity safe)

every country is ran by a healthy, stable SMART and fair monarch. (people still have freedom and equality its just to maintain world order)

cheating isn’t allowed in this planet, if found out; a persons partner is given 2 options. 1 remove this persons immorality and sentence them to death or 2 forever punishment

theres a big dome where certain countries come to entertain other countries with cool events

alsooo if you guys wanna shift to test it out then you can! you’re only given 7 hours though. you’ll be granted a little watch that has a timer. and you can only visit this place 4 times! please be respectful there though. its still in progress! here are some pictures to what the planet looks like from being on it! (some are AI though)

i’m still working on what the PLANET itself would look like :p

[happysparklingshadows]

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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What Animal Task Force 141 Would Randomly Bring Home To You (GN - Headcanons)

(Note: This is just what I (My headcanons), enjoy reading!) (Platonic, romantic) (Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz) (GN - Reader)

John Price:

- Accidentally finds a horse while out on a mission, the horse is a black with white spots on her.

- The horse clearly was trained but no owner in sight, even when John asked around, so John had a choice to make, 1. Bring her to other authorities and let them deal with the horse. 2. Look around longer for an owner despite finding the horse in the middle of nowhere. 3. Bring her home.

- He brought the horse home. The man has no clue how to care for a horse, but ends up bringing her home as it was late at night, and the poor horse was a bit skinny.. So does John just walk into the house with a horse, the horse peeking her head through the window? Yes. That's what happens.

- John gives a small chuckle, and a tilt of his head when you spot him feeding the horse through the window.. Say bye bye to all your carrots and apples.

- John kept the horse in the backyard for a few days, feeding her and getting a vet to check up on her and tries to do his best to care for her.

- If he keeps her.. it's all up to your reaction, if you don't like the horse, he will find an appropriate farm to ensure to care for the horse for him and give the horse a lot of room to live her life. (He would visit the horse when he has a time about once or twice a year just to check up on it)

- if you do like the horse, he'll figure it out. Getting a bigger backyard or house? Alright, let's do it, he's down as long as you both are responsible about it. if he had time? He would personally build the horse a stall in the backyard, if he doesn't, he would get professionals to build it for her to be nicely built.

- Man would do research, he doesn't usually get pets so swiftly, he likes to be a responsible pet owner. He would end up buying the horse toys, lots of food, annual vet visits, gear, cleaning supplies/tools, and etc.

- If you want to learn to ride the horse or you know how and you want to ride this specific horse. He would have mixed feelings on it.. He would just cross his arms and think about it for a while.. 

- He ends up letting you do it.. if you both get to see the horse trained first, wanting to make sure it was safe to do. He would always be close whenever you are riding, always ensuring to be close, making sure you wear horse-riding gear.

- If you don't want to ride, he sighs filled with relief, he's just a tad bit nervous, But he's content just watching the horse fool around or watch alongside you.

John (Johnny) ‘Soap’ Mactavish: 

(Btw: Just calling him Johnny because of John above this)

- Racoon. This man comes home in the middle of the night, ‘smuggling’ the raccoon into his apartment. Laughing softly when he accidentally wakes you up.. Quietly tries to shush you, and snickers at your confused face.

- He would do a tad bit of research about raccoons.. ends up just feeding the poor little guy some leftovers…

- Raccoon stays, he apologizes but even if you want him gone.. everytime Johnny tries to get rid of the guy.. He just comes back, always manages to find the way back, and breaks back in.. the little guy always manages to sleep on your couch, gets comfortable real fast.

- Johnny would say, ‘Aye, this lil’ shite will protect ya while I'm away’ and the raccoon Does. If you feed him, bites people when they come over. ‘Johnny JR.’ Was the name you came up with and it fits quite well after the little guy manages to get into the cabinet and eats all the food, like what Johnny does when he gets home late after missions.

- The raccoon becomes a life-long pet, he's an indoor raccoon now, you can't kick him out, he just comes back. Becomes an overweight raccoon slowly over time.

- This raccoon has a little walking machine and mimics Johnny on his treadmill, Johnny would grin wildly at you, whenever the raccoon mimics him.

- The little guy will mimic you too, likes playing with cat toys as well, if you just like sitting and relaxing, he's sitting next to you, you're going outside? You're not going alone, better get him on a leash, oh you want to go to the washroom alone? The raccoon is always watching.

- Raccoons are actually quite smart, he learns how to get all the food in the house, and Johnny ends up needing to buy a dog cage, and makes the raccoon sleep in there at night. (The little guy got into the fridge the night before and ate the groceries).

- Johnny is banned from bringing home any other animal, but hey, ya got a raccoon for life.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:  

- Kyle brings home a military dog from work, a retired one with a few healing injuries, he makes a sheepish face when you see him carry a K9 into the house. 

- He's the only one that actually offers an explanation for bringing an animal home, he would say that the poor boy was retired early, and no one wanted to deal with the vet bills… So he decided to adopt him due to the fact he wanted this guy to have a safe time recovering.

- Only one to apologize too, if you don't want the dog, he'll be upset but he'll compromise.. You both keep the dog until it's all healed up and then he'll find a nice home for him. 

- (If you are allergic, Kyle is apologetic, keeps the dog in one room allowing it to heal up, he takes full responsibility, ensures he doesn't get in your space, takes care of the dog, takes the dog on walks about three - five times a day then ends up rehoming him with a trusted family friend once he's on the right track to healing)

- If you want to keep the dog? Great! Kyle's excited, all ready for this new responsibility. The dog becomes one of the greatest home guard dogs. He's an amazing dog, very loyal and makes a great recovery.

- You have watched Kyle make breakfast for this dog Every. Morning, the dog gets a forehead kiss before you do at this point.

- Kyle is always upbeat with this dog around the house, always ‘sparing’ the dog, or running around the house with him once he heals up.. Much more smiley and upbeat, does more stuff around the house for you too, want breakfast In bed? You'll get it more often, you'll get gifts from a shop when Kyle and the dog goes out for walks, basically just more ‘active’ around the house with his little buddy around

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley: 

- He doesn't really say anything when you see him walk Into the house, at about 2AM, with two grown cats, one on his shoulder and one in his arms, he just gives a nod.

- Simon.. adores these stray cats, but he doesn't show it, he feeds them a bit of fish he bought earlier, and ends up cutting it in half and fair amounts for both cats.

- (If you are allergic to cats.. He instructs you to please go to your room for the night, and he will drop them off at the vet than a shelter in the morning but they are staying the night, he does a half asses sorry apology but makes it up to you by showing pictures of the two cats after he separates you from them, he makes sure you are alright and they don’t go near you) 

- Simon practically doesn't really ask, but he gets toys, a cat tree.. a litter box, all of the above, as a silent, we are keeping these cats, they are moved in within a week. If you are happy, he's happy. 

- If you really don't want them.. He'll sigh quietly, a bit upset but does move all the stuff and the two cats to a friend's (sorta friends) house, he still goes to visit them.

- Simon's alright with doing most of the chores for the cats, they actually get him to start relaxing a bit more around the house, and he's less on edge when the cats start ‘attacking’ his feet, or jumping out at him, like he's expecting it to be cats now instead of a intruder.

(What animal do you think other characters would come home with? I need more ideas, thanks if you comment, I hope you enjoyed these headcanons :)

[mr2swap]

The great shift: Swap Sindrome 1

In a dimly lit room, I was masturbating with my fingertips in front of a pale white monitor. As I watched the images of boys around the age of high school students lined up on the screen, I fantasized about taking off their clothes and touching their naked bodies.

-ahh, ahh… ahh-

I closed my eyes as I fantasized about the scenes that were still etched in my memory, the memories of my body and my Gymbros in the locker room flooded my mind, At this moment there was nothing erotic about looking at my best friends or touching their oily and muscles to feel The Progress we had made in the gym, but now it was different, I was different.

I continued looking at the photographs that were shown on the Instagram profiles of my former friends, while the desperation and excitement with which I moved My small cock increased more and more.

I kept changing the photos until a photograph of my old body was displayed on the entire screen. I enlarged the photograph just so I could rotate the most erotic parts of my old body. I focused my gaze on the armpits that still had a couple of drops of stinky and sticky sweat running down towards my abdomen.

-FUUUCK! What I wouldn't give to smell those musky holes again-

The shameful and perverted words that came out of my mouth really embarrassed me, but right now I had no control over myself the only thing I wanted was to fantasize about my old hairy armpits, lick his hard biceps and play with his grazed nipples, The memory of the last time I could smell a sweaty t-shirt from my original body made me ejaculate violently, the semen spread across the keyboard of the old computer that was in front of me.

At that moment my head cleared, from one moment to the next the animal instincts that dominated me a few seconds ago immediately disappeared... and then only remorse.

I took a piece of paper that was within my reach and began to clean up the mess that I had caused myself. When I finished cleaning my little cock, I threw the ball of paper into the trash can that was saturated with balls identical to that one in a yellowish color. And they left a disgusting smell in my room.

I stood up, pulled up my pants and slowly walked towards the kitchen, avoiding looking at my fat old face on the relevant surfaces that were in my messy apartment. After doing this, I feel disgusting, but no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about my old life and in my old body.

-The swap syndrome…-

I said quietly trying to justify my depraved obsession with my old life, I had all the symptoms I had read on the internet:

“ Swap syndrome is a disorder characterized by a persistent and overwhelming obsession with a person's past life after experiencing a body swap with another. This syndrome manifests itself when two individuals involuntarily exchange their bodies thanks to the event known as “The great shift.”

People affected by SS experience intense longing and nostalgia for their previous life. They feel a deep disconnection from their new body and struggle to adapt to their new physical identity. Meanwhile, they constantly long to return to their old lives, including their relationships, daily routines, and everyday activities.

Symptoms of SS may include episodes of obsessional love, masturbation, anxiety, depression, and dissociation, as well as a decrease in social and occupational functioning. Affected people may manifest compulsive behaviors related to the search for ways to reverse the body exchange and recover their previous life.“

I've been trapped in the body of this overweight middle-aged man named Hiroshi for two years, and one day I just woke up in a room full of trash and on the other side of the world. It had been a few hours since all this had started So it was easy I searched what was happening on the internet I tried to contact my parents, but none of them responded to me even now I haven't seen my parents after so long, maybe they have They've gotten better bodies and now they're having fun. Or maybe they're in one of the many prisons trapped in the body of some convict, I don't know...

At least they can put me in contact with the Old Hiroshi who was now on the beach in Miami enjoying that new teenage body. At first, we wrote to each other every day, trying to go unnoticed among all the chaos of the world. I had to eat. So I decided. Not to tell anyone that he was actually a 16-year-old American teenager instead of a Japanese man my father's age.

The real Hiroshi helped me adjust to my new life, while I naively believed that this was something that would be resolved in a couple of days. But over time I got used to my new job in a restaurant as a dishwasher, I didn't understand the language very well. , but he didn't need it, the real Hiroshi was a quiet and submissive guy, Very different from what the real Hiroshi is like in his new life, as a popular teenager. That he spends his afternoons tanning on the beach and flirting with beautiful girls.

I used to talk to the real Hiroshi every day, but over time he took longer to respond to the messages, then to look at them and just not respond and over time he started ignoring my calls, now the only thing I know is because of the photographs I uploads to Instagram and social networks of my former friends, I didn't dare tell them the truth, that their former friend was now trapped in the body of a 45 year old obese loser…

I've been saving everything I can to be able to travel back to America and reunite with my old life. Although the salary as a dishwasher is shit, it's better than nothing, but once I'm in front of my old body I don't know if I can control myself... look down and a tiny bulge formed again in my pants from just being in front of my old body.

-Shit….-

Hello, if you liked this story, and you want more, you can take a look at my new Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.

[aintnobodylikemydesigurl]

I'm so angry I could cry

Vinesh phogat (india) did not deserve her medal to be taken away. The gold was hers. She defeated japan's yui susaki, who has never been defeated by an international player and was the Tokyo olympics' champion in the round of 16. She was the first indian woman to reach wrestling finals at the olympics. And they dis qualified her for being 100 g overweight. That's literally 50.1 kg. Brown women can't win

AND INDIAN AUTHORITIES JUST ACCEPTED IT?? Didn't even challenge it??

Wrestling matches happen over two days. She reached semis on day 1. She met the weight category then. If you're not going to allow her to fight for the gold at least give her silver?? She earned that much

You can't tell me this was not sabotage. She did not deserve this for fighting for safe environment for other wrestlers. Shame on the WFI and our government

And fuck the olympics for allowing child rapists to participate but disqualifying a brown woman for being .1 kg overweight

Edit : on 8 August Vinesh has announced her retirement from wrestling. She said that she did not have the strength any longer and that wrestling has won against her. Sending all my love and support to her.. she will be remembered for her courage and bravery ❤️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello there! I've been subscribed to your blog for a long time; I remember loving your writing and theories! And even though I haven't played for 2 years, last week twst nostalgia suddenly hit me and I've started rewatching main story of the game :D (Though I haven't read it all still...). It made me think about something, and I'd like to see your opinion on the matter if that's alright. If something similar was already asked and I missed that, please feel free to ignore my message.

So, hypothetically speaking, if a NRC student gets bullied and asks Azul for help to deal with bullies, is there a chance that, considering his backstory, he might be a liiiitle bit more lenient and prone to name the price for his services lesser than he usually sets? Or do you believe it depends too much on what kind of relationship he and the person asking him for help have? (For example, Azul will be lenient only if he and that person are good acquaintances, or have some kind of pre-established rapport at least maybe?). What kind of other factors could contribute in this as well? I hope my question is understandable and coherent enough, I am not a native English speaker >< Have a lovely day!

Ayyy, welcome back ^^

As for your question… I don’t think Azul would be more lenient with a client that is a victim of bullying. There’s several reasons I feel this way:

1. It sets a bad precedent. If Azul is “soft” with one client, there’s a chance word will spread and other clients will start demanding he lower the costs for them too. People will come in with all the wrong expectations. It’s the whole “give them an inch and they’ll walk a mile” thing. This would make future deals unnecessarily annoying.

2. It messes with his carefully cultivated image. He’s supposed to be impartial with each and every single one of his clients. What does it say about him if he breaks this clause? Azul will come off as unprofessional, biased, and even weak. Like what if someone hears about the deal he cut with the bullying victim because he pities them? Azul wants to come off as tough, not sentimental. And if he comes off as sentimental, what’s stopping others from digging deeper into him and trying to locate other insecurities and weak points?

3. Azul has already demonstrated that he gives no mercy to those similar to him. He believes that his past self is weak and pathetic, hence why he tries so desperately to erase his past. Azul has also developed into a bully and an opportunist himself in modern day. This leads me to think that if he were to come across someone similar to his past self, he’d think them easily exploitable instead of someone he should support. We see this implied in his dynamic with Yuuta Mito, the Yuu for the Episode of Octavinelle manga. Although not explicitly pointed out in the narrative, we do see many parallels between Yuuta and past!Azul: they’re overweight, have a parent that runs a restaurant, and love eating good food. Even if Azul isn’t familiar with the particulars of Yuuta’s background, the fact remains that 1) he can relate to Yuuta based on physique alone and 2) Yuuta would have experienced similar bullying by mobs (and arguably Ace, Riddle, etc.) that game!Yuu does; these are both very similar to Azul’s own experiences. But what happens? Azul still doesn’t cut Yuuta any slack and is willing to make him go homeless anyway.

4. Even without his childhood trauma, he does not seem to spare others. In his book 7, we see a potential scenario in which Azul was never bullied as a child. Despite this happier background, Azul still chooses to bully land dwellers (land dwellers that, mind you, did/said nothing to provoke him or to warrant this treatment).

5 Azul is primarily concerned with accumulating things of value for himself. Greed is a huge aspect of his character (especially if we’re talking pre-OB era Azul); having all his contracts sanded is, after all, what triggers his OB. I think he’d be much less concerned with the circumstances of others.

If it sounds like I’m overthinking this, it’s because I am 😂 and because Azul, too, overthinks + considers the future in decisions he makes in the present. For example, he refuses to sign any contracts until he has read it over multiple times and understands all of its terms and conditions, such as the NDA in book 6. He also refuses to accept extremely valuable clothes because he worries he will be put in a position where he owes someone else an immense debt (in Tapis Rouge/Red Carpet Cadets). Overthinking IS Azul’s modus operandi.

If we want to consider other factors, personal familiarity with the client is definitely one—but I don’t mean it as in, “he’d be more lenient with a friend”. I mean it like, “he would cut a kinder deal with a repeat customer”. You know, to thank them for their business and to incentivize them to keep coming back.

Other factors to consider (although by no means is this an exhaustive list) might be:

Number of bullies that need to be “dealt with” (more bullies -> higher payment demanded)

Severity of bullying (just some name calling would be less effort to fix; this would not be so if the bullying was much more intense)

Form of bullying (verbal, physical, cyber, etc.; this would impact just how much effort, and what kind of it, Azul has to apply to solve the issue)

Identity of the bullies (if it’s an Octavinelle student or a freshman, they may be easier for Azul to intimidate; if the bullies are wealthy/powerful or of high status, like a dorm leader, they would be harder to deal with)

Client’s requests (what do they actually want, in terms of “dealing” with the bullies?)

Client’s desperation (Azul could milk this to get more payment out of them)