#we can eat berries and forage for stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lykegenia · 2 years ago

Text

Unicorns And Mistletoe

The Wayhaven Chronicles Nate Sewell x Leah Kingston No warnings except, as always, Rebecca being parent of the year

Read it on AO3!

She’s three, and old enough to know it’s part of the punishment. She still has yet to understand what the punishment is for, but she knows that if she can just work it out then her mummy will come back and everything will be alright again. The people she left her with – kind, smiling, smelling of gingerbread – are nice, and their warm house is nice, and all the Christmas lights twinkle together in a confusion of reds and greens and golds, and they told her the guest of honour gets to add a bobble – no, bauble – to the Christmas tree. They clapped and smiled when she picked the sparkly plastic reindeer from the box and hung it on the highest branch she could reach, and told her that was the surest way to summon Christmas magic.

They’ve left her alone now, though, because she said that she wanted to look out of the window, and they’re kind people so they set her up with a cushion and a cookie and milk in a plastic glass with a fairy on it. There’s a creeping feeling in her chest that it was the wrong choice, that she’s not doing what she’s supposed to, because every so often she hears footsteps and then a pause, and then they shuffle away again and murmur between themselves in way she’s come to learn signifies pity. But nobody stops her, so she doesn’t turn around. She sits by the window and stares out and eats the cookie slowly and puzzles over how to make the Christmas magic work so that everything stops being her fault.

She’s seven, watching the rush of her classmates burst out into the playground like a torrent of water from a leaky dam, straight for the line of parents waiting just beyond the gates. She herself goes at a steadier pace, the better to observe the crush of adults huddled under scarves and thick winter coats just in case there’s one she recognises. She’s a clever child, however – all her teachers say so – and she learnt quickly not to expect too much. The others are shouting and laughing, and holding up the Christmas decorations they made for proud inspection. Her own pinecone, dangling from one gloved hand like a talisman, has silver glitter and blue sequins to represent snow – like a glass one she saw on the TV – and has a length of silver ribbon that she tied around the top of it herself so it can hang on the tree. The other children needed the teacher to do it for them.

As she tears her gaze away, she notices an older couple all smiles as they wave at her, and suddenly it feels like she’s walking in treacle. The Wrights are nice. She has to repeat it to herself. Mrs Wright wears a woolly hat shaped like a Christmas pudding, complete with knitted holly leaves and two red pom-poms for the berries, and Mr Wright’s puffer jacket is unzipped over a green jumper decorated with snowflakes and reindeer.

“Where’s Mum?” she asks when she reaches them, although the answer doesn’t really matter beyond the obvious.

“We’re sorry, Leah.” Mrs Wright shakes her head. “Your mum tried to get back in time, but you know work keeps her very busy. She should be here tomorrow, and in the meantime, we can have a sleepover! I need your big strong arms to help me stir the Christmas cake.”

“Did you enjoy your last day at school?” Mr Wright asks.

She shrugs one shoulder, her eyes on a robin foraging for worms under the nearby hedge. There’s one in her garden that will come so close that she can sit next to it while it gobbles up the bacon fat she cuts into tiny pieces and sets on the wall, but she hasn’t yet persuaded it to eat out of her palm.

Mr Wright tries again and points to her hand. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

She stuffs the pinecone into her pocket. “Nothing.”

“Ah, well. Let’s get you home to pick up your night bag, and then we’ll get the magic started.”

“We haven’t put up our decorations yet, you know,” Mrs Wright adds. “Would you like to help?”

She shrugs again. “S’pose.”

When they get to her house, she sneaks away and puts the pinecone on the kitchen counter, balanced on its end with the glitteriest side towards the door so her mother will see it when she comes in.

She’s thirteen. Dusty, cold, but pleased with herself. She’s spent the day scouring the house, teetering on the ladder up to the loft and digging through the junk in the garage, and now there are three boxes lumped on the living room carpet. They read ‘XDecs’ in unfamiliar handwriting, and they’re so old that the tape on the edges is starting to disintegrate, but she found them.

She unboxes the tree first, brushes the dust off the plastic branches and works out how the pieces fit together, then fishes about for lights and tinsel. The longest garland she takes to wrap around the stair banister, the second longest drapes over the mantle, and then – through trial and error and a lot of sideways squinting to make sure it looks right – she daubs the tree with ornaments in what she hopes is a tasteful array of festive cheer. The pinecone she made when she was little isn’t among the baubles, but it doesn’t matter. It probably would have spoiled the aesthetic anyway.

There’s just enough time to clear away the empty boxes and vacuum stray bits of tinsel of the floor before an engine growls to a stop on the slushy driveway.

“Leah?” her mother’s voice calls from the back of the house.

“In here!”

She stands in the middle of the room with fists bunched, waiting for the big reveal. The crisp click of her mother’s high heels slow as they reach the hall. When she appears in the doorway, her face is drawn into a frown as she watches her daughter sidestep awkwardly to one side with a vague gesture to the lit-up Christmas tree.

“Surprise!”

A pause.

“Where did you get all this?” her mother asks.

She shifts under the scrutiny. “… Found it.”

“Where?” When there’s no answer, her mother sighs. “From the loft? Leah, you know you’re not allowed up there. It’s dangerous. What if something had happened?”

“Well it didn’t,” she counters. “And I knew you wouldn’t have time to decorate, so I thought…”

She scuttles backwards as her mother strides into the room, glancing to the tree and back again as if it’s an unruly pet one accident away from being sent to the rescue shelter. The critical eye her mother casts over the decorations makes her sullen, but there’s something else there as well, a wistfulness as a slow hand reaches up to cup a sphere of clouded blue glass etched with the words Baby’s First Christmas in elegant gold cursive.

“It’s very… thoughtful.” Her mother sighs again and drops the memory. “It’s been a long day, and there’s shopping in the car. I need a shower – can you fetch it in?”

“I guess.”

Her mother gives a prim nod of acknowledgement and slides from the room like snow off an overladen branch, only to pause in the doorway. “Don’t forget, you’re going to the Wrights tomorrow, so make sure you have everything ready – and make sure all of this is unplugged so there’s not an accident. Those lights are far too old to be safe.”

She deflates, and doesn’t bother to answer, and after a moment lunges for the socket to cut off the lurid glitter of the Christmas lights.

She’s nineteen, and ignoring half-drunk texts from her friends asking why she isn’t at the campus party. She’d turn her phone off completely if not for the unlikely case of an emergency, but she’s not even bothering to open the messages anymore. Instead, she hunkers down in the armchair, annoyed to find that the hot chocolate at her elbow hasn’t magically refilled itself. She’ll have to buy another one soon or the café owner might throw her out. She decides it can wait until the end of the chapter she’s reading.

“No way – Leah?”

She looks up. The boy smiling at her is in her class. He’s handsome in a roguish sort of way, but they’ve never really talked.

“Couldn’t be bothered with the party?” he asks. “Shame. I hear WelSoc managed to get a boost for the budget.”

“Why aren’t you there, then?” she retorts, confused. She doesn’t hear about the antics of the Welfare Society – the university’s main student organisation – all that often, and she would have thought Bobby would have been there to report on it for the student newspaper if nothing else.

He shrugs and flops down in the armchair on the opposite side of the table. “I might go later. It’s always more fun to be fashionably late. Besides, by that point people will be nice and drunk and happy to spill all their secrets.”

“What secrets?”

“Oh, you know, gossip and stuff. Why aren’t you there?”

“I’m not really a Christmas person,” she answers, turning back to her book.

“Oh?”

“It feels like wasted effort most of the time.”

To her surprise, he smiles. “I’ve never looked at it that way, but you have a point. All that excess just to roll around with indigestion for a week.”

“Putting up decorations just to take them down again,” she agrees, wrinkling her nose. “And most of them are tacky anyway.”

“Ah, you’re a woman of taste, then.”

She doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, but he waves her away with a private laugh and jumps to his feet.

“I’ll not inflict my presence on you any longer, in that case, but if you do decide to go to the party I hope you’ll say hello.” He winks. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah – Merry Christmas.”

Still confused, she watches him saunter back outside, only pausing briefly to pick up something from the barista before the clipped view from the café window cuts off the sight of him. A little while later, when she gets up for another hot chocolate to go with her book, the woman smiles and waves away her bank card.

“That guy you were talking to already paid,” she explains.

“What do you mean?”

“He paid for your drink – it’s on the house.”

She snaps her gaze to the window, as if Bobby might be standing there staring in, with a big sign informing her that it’s an elaborate prank. But all she can see are the indifferent shadows of passing shoppers hurrying about in the last of the daylight, wrapped up in their own concerns.

“Oh,” she says, and smiles at the barista because it’s polite, and takes the hot chocolate back to the rest of her things.

She’s twenty-six and alone in her apartment. Tina thinks she’s with the Wrights, and she told them she’s celebrating with Tina. She hasn’t even needed to invent an excuse to fob off Rebecca. In front of her is a spread of ingredients for homemade tacos, and a stack of DVDs that are old favourites. There’s not a bough of holly or the twinkle of a fairy light in sight.

She decides that she’s content.

She’s thirty-one. Staring at the monstrous fir Felix has somehow managed to sneak into the warehouse.

“How did you even get it in here?” she blurts. She has to crane her neck upwards to take in the full might of the thing.

“I didn’t,” Felix replies, proud. “I got some delivery people to do it while we were out – for the extra surprise factor.”

The rest of Unit Bravo sidle forward, as awed by the presence of the tree as she is, though the levels of enthusiasm vary.

“I thought we could decorate it together,” he continues, flinging open the first of several boxes that have been left at the foot of the tree, “you know, since we get so little time to do things as a family.”

That appears to be the magic word. Adam answers Mason’s pleading look with a minute shake of his head, and Nate is already striding forward to help unpack the ornaments. It leaves her with an uncomfortable itch between her shoulder blades, as if she’s suddenly wearing clothes that belong to someone else. Years of memories come bubbling up like rising damp under paint, phantom emotions she’s tried for so many years to bury and which now burrow so easily through her flesh.

“Leah?” Nate asks, with his hands curled around a string of coloured glass beads.

She smiles. It feels wooden. “Are you sure we can reach the whole way up?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage with us all working together,” he says, and beckons her to his side with a chaste kiss to her cheek.

Felix has already draped a length of tinsel around his neck like it’s a feather boa, and grins wide as he turns to her. “Where do we start? I bet you’ve had loads of practice.”

It stings.

“Put the lights up the centre of the tree,” she suggests, grateful for Nate’s touch. “That way they’ll reflect off the baubles.”

“Great!”

The vampires take to their task rather well. The military precision with which Adam lays the lights is matched by the haphazard way that Mason – obviously unhappy with the glow – drapes the outer branches in tinsel to hide as much of it as possible. Nate, meanwhile, is trying to bring a bit of coordination to the chaos that is Felix’s method of flinging baubles on the tree with no care for size or colour.

“But it’s festive,” the younger vampire protests, as a shiny green chilli pepper is swapped with a more tasteful globe of frosted golden glass.

“I just think it will look better up here, because it’s smaller.”

“You mean because it’s somewhere I can’t reach to move it somewhere more fun. I can get a stepladder, you know.”

She smiles at that, content to watch the banter. The variety of ornaments that have been procured cover a dizzying array of styles, from traditional to psychedelic to things like the chilli pepper that she knows Felix bought because he found them amusing. It’s not quite the same as the Wrights’ collection, which they’d once told her had been built up over years gathering trinkets on holiday or been gifted from friends and family, but the effect is similar.

“Leah, you agree with me, don’t you?” Nate pleads, his eyes wide and helpless.

She smiles. “A little disorder gives it personality, don’t you think?”

“But…”

“Ooooh I think that counts as a top ten anime betrayal,” Felix cackles.

“What’s anime?”

“Never you mind,” comes the haughty reply as the younger vampire holds out his hand. “I’ll be taking my pepper back now, thank you.”

There’s a groan as Nate passes it over, and she gets the feeling his defeat is not as final as he’s pretending, but before she can voice the suspicion, he comes to fold his long legs down next to her on the carpet.

“You haven’t put anything on the tree yet,” he notes, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face.

She shrugs. The ornament turning in her hands is a tiny wooden reindeer with a bell around its neck. It’s not sparkly like the one when she was three, but it’s similar enough for a wave of guilt to wash over her for all the years she turned down the invitation from the Wrights because she didn’t want to be reminded of that pitied, unwanted little kid who was once dropped on their doorstep.

“Hey…”

“I’m not a big Christmas person,” she murmurs, though she knows the other vampires could easily listen in if they choose to. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I have horrible memories, but part of me always felt left out of that holiday magic, you know?”

With the Christmas tree lights reflecting off the sympathy in his brown eyes, he curls a gentle hand around hers and lifts her knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry your past experiences weren’t what they should have been… though I hope you don’t feel left out now?”

It’s impossible to feel anything but dizzy with him so close, and yet as her gaze falls to his lips she wants nothing more than to be closer still.

“I’ve never felt more at home,” she tells him, smiling at the way confession makes his breath stutter.

The pad of his thumb brushes her cheek.

“You have no idea how much it delights me to – what are you doing?”

He pulls away to frown at Felix, who snuck up from behind to stretch out a bunch of mistletoe above their heads, the white berries and green foliage made richer by a ribbon of deep maroon.

“It’s Christmas,” the younger vampire explains. “Kissing under mistletoe is tradition.”

“You really think they need mistletoe to be going at it?” Mason calls from the other side of the room.

“Is that sort of language really necessary?” Nate demands.

“Not denying it though, are you?”

Mortified, he rubs a hand across his brow, and though her own cheeks are surely crimson by now, she keeps her fingers tangled into his to make sure he won’t pull away for good.

“You were so close you were practically on top of each other,” Felix offers, though whether he’s trying to be helpful or embarrass them both further is difficult to say.

“I was merely…” Nate clears his throat, tries again. “Why don’t you finish decorating the tree?”

Felix rolls his eyes, discarding the mistletoe on the sofa as he goes. The moment of heat has passed, but with attention gradually sliding off them, Nate inches close enough to wrap an arm around her waist. She snuggles into his side, ear over his heart, content to soak in the atmosphere of the room. Crackling fire, twinkling lights, and the good-natured bickering between Mason and Felix. She can feel Nate wince with every tacky bauble added to the tree, but torn as he is between protecting his décor and keeping her company, not even the glittery unicorn with the neon-pink mane and glowing horn stirs him to fully intervene, and she presses a kiss to the back of his hand to show her sympathy.

It's later, when the fire has burned down to embers and even the wind outside has fallen quiet, that she approaches the tree with the little wooden reindeer. There’s no ribbon loop to hang it on a branch, but she finds a bare spot in between a garish purple raspberry and an intricate crystal snowflake, and jams its legs on either side of the stem, like it’s leaping through a forest.

“It looks good there,” Nate murmurs, coming to stand at her back. He presses a kiss to the top of her head as his arms wind around her waist. “Are you sure I can’t just –”

“I’ll tell Adam it was you,” she warns. “Is it worth it for the wounded, puppy-dog look Felix will give you when he notices you’ve moved them?”

A sigh heaves through him that ruffles her hair. “For you, I suppose I can live with it, but I may have to stage a disappearing act in time for next year.”

“Even for the unicorn?”

“Especially for the unicorn.”

Chuckling, she turns in his arms. “It sounds like you could use a distraction.”

“What did you have in mind?” he asks, though with the way his voice lowers and his fingertips toy with the hem of her shirt, he already has some ideas of his own.

She licks her lips. His own part in response.

Instead of indulging him, however, she dodges the kiss and steps around him to where the mistletoe lies in a crumpled heap on the sofa. The room is warm, the lights in the Christmas tree like the glitter of a galaxy in the void of space, the weight of his gaze heavy enough to send a shiver across her shoulders as she plucks up the greenery with nimble fingers.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc holiday magic #nate sewell #twc detective #unit bravo #n sewell #nate sewell x detective #detective leah kingston

22 notes · View notes

farmerophelia · 7 months ago

Text

(FARMER OPHELIA IS IN TOWN BABY, HOT MUSCULAR WOMAN ALERT)

"Hello~"

Info about Ophelia!!

She/Her, mid to late thirties!

Used to be in the airforce! Joined the war around the same time Kent did, maybe a few more years after I suppose?

Will offer to arm wrestle you, and proceed to go 'easy' on you, before absolutely slamming your arm to the table. (Alex has tried to beat her winning streak, unfortunately he sprained his shoulder from that incident and never tried again)

"Sexuality? Honey, what?" (totally not interested in both women and men)

SPENDS LIKE 6 HOURS IN THE MINES BLOWING UP STUFF.

Will call you hun, honey, love, and sweetheart. Basically any nickname!

Info about Mod!!

Remaining anonymous! Feel free to dm me here tho.

Mod is a she/her!

I will not disclose my age, but I am 18+!

If you're going to ask something related to me, put it in a //example text// so that I know!

I have a pretty busy schedule, please forgive me if I upload slowly!

RULES

Yes, you can flirt with her. Her flirtability is like, a solid 8/10

Yes, we can be enemies or friends.

Yes, multiship is okay.

YOU CAN ASK HER ANYTHING, AS LONG AS IT ISN'T OUTRIGHT OBSURD OR WEIRD.

NSFW is a no no, but suggestive jokes and flirting is alright!

IF YOU WANT TO SHIP BLOG X BLOG, you should be at least 17 years of age or above! It feels really weird to ship with someone younger than me!

PLEASE, IF YOU OR YOUR OC IS A MINOR, DO NOT TRY TO SHIP. Ophelia and mod(me) will reject any attempts at doing so!

NO REAL LIFE RELIGION OR POLITIC TOPICS! She will reply with "Who/what's that?" or not reply at all.

I won't be able to answer EVERY ask, it's either I haven't seen it, or I genuinely don't know how/want to answer it.

LOVED, LIKED, NEUTRAL, DISLIKED, AND HATED GIFTS.

LOVED: ALL UNIVERSAL LOVES (except for rabbit's foot, if you try to give her one, she's going to say: "I am not wearing a dead rabbit's foot around my neck. Why would you give me this?"), Purple Mushroom, Wine, Coffee, Pink Cake and Chocolate Cake, ANY DISH WITH EGGS, Complete Breakfast, Survival Burger, SASHIMI (she loves that stuff), LARGE EGGS (she'll say: "Oh, I'm gonna cook a large omelet when I get home!"), IF IT HAS A FISH OR AN EGG IN IT SHE WILL EAT THAT (except for caviar, she hates the flavor), Cookies, Summer Spangle, Fairy Rose, Fire Quarts, Opal and Fire Opal, Star Shards, and Sweet Gem Berry.

LIKED: ALL UNIVERSAL LIKES, ALL CROPS, ALL FORAGABLES, ALL FISH, ALL BOMBS, ALL FERTILIZERS, ALL SEEDS, Cave Carrot, and Rice. I swear this lady will like anything you give her.

NEUTRAL: ALL UNIVERSAL NEUTRALS.

DISLIKED: ALL UNIVERSAL DISLIKES (except for building materials and bombs and some of the ones listed in likes, she will appreciate that), TRASH.

HATED: ALL UNIVERSAL HATES (except for butterfly powder, explosive ammo, and snail), CAVIAR (she's going to say, "Ugh, rich people food. I don't even understand why people like the taste." #eattherich, absolutely do not give this woman caviar).

#sdv #stardew #stardew valley #sdv oc #sdv oc askblog #sdv ask blog #ask me anything #ask blog #oc

6 notes · View notes

aimwigs · 1 year ago

Note

begging for you to write dad ludwig. the brainrot is real.

he would be such a. good girl scout leader

fine have some girl scout leader lud for the soul... i may not have a cohesive narrative for dadwig but im happy to provide little snippets

Really, the reason that Ludwig took on the role of troop leader was because nobody else wanted to do it. The old leader moved to Vegas, along with her daughter, leaving the troop in a state of uncertainty. If nobody stepped in, the troop would have to disband and Ryan would either have to find a new troop or brave it solo as a Juliette according to what QT said when she dropped off the girls at his place a few days before the school year started. Apparently, she meticulously researched both of these options but she wasn’t sure that Ryan would even want to be in Girl Scouts if she wasn’t doing it with her friends from school.

So he decides to step in. There’s nothing in the rules that says a dad can’t be a Girl Scout leader and if it means his daughter gets to continue to do this thing she loves with her friends, he’s not going to let her lose that. He’s not all that busy these days anyway— what’s the point of free time if he can’t spend it with his kids?

So that’s how he finds himself a few months later, in charge of more than a dozen eight-year-old girls on a camping trip. They’re in a cabin, at least. As much as he intends to give these girls an actual scouting experience— something he feels like the previous leader failed to do— he needs two more years and a few more chaperones before he’s ready to teach them how to pitch tents and start their own fires.

They get to the cabin in the evening and he gives the girls some time to put their stuff down and set up their sleeping bags for later before taking them out on a hike. It’s a short hike in theory— just a two-mile loop— but when you’re hiking with easily distracted kids, it always ends up a lot longer. He has to stop the same girl from eating berries off random plants like five fucking times.

The first time he squats down to her level and carefully explains, “We don’t eat things when we don’t know what they are. It could make us very sick.”

By the end of the hike, he’s just absently snatching the berries out of her hands before she can shove them in her mouth. He gave them all granola bars and as much as he understands the raw human urge to forage for your own food where you can, he doesn’t think getting poisoned on your first overnight camping trip would be a great scouting experience.

There’s a creek that runs through the canyon they’re hiking in, and he gives the girls fifteen minutes or so to splash around in the shallow water, expressions of pure glee on their faces as they look for frogs and skip stones together.

“Dad!” Ryan runs over to him and very seriously hands him a rock, light gray with a small curvy brown line running through the center of it and smooth from the rush of the water. “I don’t want to lose it.”

As much as he would love to just hold the rock for her, they all had a conversation about this before they left and he’s not prepared for the domino effect of all the girls shoving everything they find out here into their pockets.

“Take only memories and leave only footprints, remember?” he says, holding it back out to her.

She frowns. “I want to give it to Lucy so she’s not sad that she didn’t get to come.”

Fuck, the thought of the delight on his younger daughter’s face as her sister hands her a rock that she found special for her is enough to make him shove the rock in his pocket before anyone else can see it. “You can’t tell anyone else I let you keep this, okay?”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Dad!” she tells him, running off to splash around in the creek again.

Maybe he just got scammed into breaking his own damn rules but the thing about having kids is that they can scam you every time and you’ll never really mind it.

By the time they get back from the hike, it’s time for dinner. He starts the fire on his own, tactfully, with a lighter because he doesn’t fucking remember how to light a fire without one— he’ll learn when it’s time to teach them— and has the girls go find sticks to roast hot dogs with, telling them to stay near the camp.

They have their dinner and sing songs that Ryan and a few of the other girls learned at camp last summer and then move on to making s’mores. He tells them a story that he found online about how s’mores were invented by a Girl Scout and they all watch on with wide, excited eyes.

While he’s cleaning up, the girls tell scary stories around the fire. It’s nothing particularly terrifying, except for something that the tiniest girl in the troop cooks up in her dark twisted mind about evil clowns riding bears that somehow comes off as less insane when she says it— seriously, that girl is going to be a screenwriter someday— and then he teaches them how to properly put out a fire before they all head in to go to bed.

Half the girls knock out straight away— the hike must have seriously taken it out of them— and the other half drag their sleeping bags together and quietly whisper and giggle as if this were just a normal sleepover. Truth be told, he doesn’t care if they stay up talking all night since their parents are coming to get them in the morning anyway and they’re being quiet enough that he can sleep.

So he closes his eyes and tries to get some shut-eye before he’s inevitably woken up when somebody decides they need a snack or can’t find the bathroom.

It’s about thirty seconds before somebody drops a sleeping bag next to him and cuddles into his side.

He cracks an eye open to see Ryan lying there in her giraffe pajamas, curling into him a little.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asks, rubbing circles on her back.

“I’m thinking about the clowns,” she whispers with a frown.

He hugs her a bit closer. “You know that I’ll fight any clowns that try to get you.”

“They were riding bears, Dad.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ll fight the bears too.”

Ryan lets out a little giggle. “You can’t fight a bear.”

Ludwig very dramatically lifts his other arm into her field of view. “You see these guns, I could fight a bear for you any day.”

She rolls her eyes. “Only Uncle Slime can fight bears.”

How the fuck did she come to that conclusion?

“There are no clowns on bears coming here. I promise,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I wouldn’t take you girls somewhere where you’d be at risk of a clown attack, much less clowns with the ability to ride bears.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Let’s get some sleep now, okay? You can stay here with me if you want.”

She nods softly and stays cuddled up into his side. His heart soars a little— she’s in a room full of her friends and she still wants to hang out with her dad. He wonders how much longer she’ll be little enough for this.

He savors the moment for a minute and then falls asleep too. As it turns out, camping trips are fucking exhausting when you’re managing a troop full of third graders.

#dadwig #<- this will be my tag for these ficlets when i post #ignore me saying ficlet when this is over 1k #ludwig #my fic #answered #anonymous

6 notes · View notes

myfanfic-urfantrash · 2 months ago

Note

hello again! i was thinking about going on vacation with my favs...i need a break man

For Mydei and Phainon, an amusement park vacation! I'm pestering them to wear the merch and try every single ride I think looks fun. Me and Phainon end up eating probably way too much food but I'm a foodie at heart and keep sharing anything I buy with him. mydei tries some too but he only a bite because he already knows what fate awaits us later on the thrill rides...so after that, we take a break on a little boat cruiser. Later that night we visit the bar and once again I feel the need to try the themed items. I totally end up passed out from drinking too much of some fruity cocktail and Mydei carries me out while simultaneously letting a tipsy Phainon lean on him.

Sunday is getting dragged to a winter wonderland. We'll watch the aurora borealis together and stay in a nice cozy cabin in the woods. There is a feeder for deer not too far from us so occasionally we'll see animals pop up here and there. I don't know but seeing his face flushed from the cold while his eyes light up while looking at something beautiful...id be in heaven lol. At one point we take a small trip because there are some natural hot springs nearby that we get to ourselves! Sunday is very flustered despite our towels covering us up and I tease him relentlessly about it (then proceed to drop my towel "accidentally" and hope he gets the hint) While on vacation, I also give him gifts like some earrings and a recording of a little song that Robin helped me write for him.

Next is Jing Yuan! Lazy vacation all the way! We dont really even go anywhere that crazy. There's a private lakehouse we stay at just to get away from it all but outside of some light hiking in the woods, we just take it easy fr. We have a spa day and give each other massages. Some swimming is required but we also have some hammocks swt up that we take naps in when the sun is just right. To keep entertained while our phones are turned off (no one is interrupting damnit), we play boardgames and read next to each other. My ADHD makes me fidgety still so one day I end up hanging a rope on a tree and Jing Yuan watches me make poor decisions by swinging myself into the lake. Jing Yuan also fucks me outside at least once. Probably more than once.

I'd do more but Im tired rn. If you want to expand on this, I'd love to see what kind of vacation you'd give other characters!

Not gonna lie my immediate thought was Blade in a sensory deprivation chamber I don't know why but that's his vacation he can feel like he's stopped existing for a little bit as a treat.

Another immediate thought I had was I'm taking Welt to the anime/game convention. Yeah that's it I'm taking his ass to the conventions we will get him mecha kits and build them together. Let him nerd out so hard and loose his mind when he sees fan art for the stuff he drew. I will absolutely enjoy his excitement to bits and take care of him when he eventually suffers from con fatigue.

As for others hmmmmmmmm I'm taking Luocha, Wanderer, Kazuha, and Albedo(so many plant nerds???) to the botanical gardens where we will see alllll the plants and hear the absolute nerd talk from Albedo as he draws each and every one. Wanderer looks bored but he's enjoying himself really taking in the plant life. Kazuha and Luocha comments here and there about various plants they've seen and where and what they're like in food or medicine furthering the nerd talk. Just a chill time at the gardens just vibing with some tea enjoying the sunrises and sunsets. For funsies we go mushroom foraging or go to the heckin strawberry/berry fields and get some fruit :V

Everyone cooks together and it's tasty as hell the end. :)

Taking Neuvillette, Kaeya, and Wriothesley hiking near a waterfall because two of them need the sun and we must always have water for dear Neuvillette as taking his ass to the desert is a no go. Honestly Wriothesley would be happy to go anywhere where he can feel the sun and enjoy fresh air and Kaeya seems to enjoy the outdoors especially the beach so we could just go to some tide pools and look at all the little creatures there. Maybe a photoshoot with mostly Neuvillette and Kaeya because they are gorgeous AGH Wriothesley helps with the photos and any taken of him are not by himself because he is camera shy to me. Lovely night walks enjoying the stars sharing some nice drinks alcoholic or not just chilling.

Yeah that's all I got I can't think of anything else :p

#FicMode Chat

0 notes

happysparklingshadows · 3 months ago

Text

A Certain Hunger (7/?)

Chapter 6 ✿ Chapter 8

Summary: A heartbroken reader is trying to piece her heart back together as best as she can with all the resources she has available. The reader tries to be a good friend as she tries to find meaning in dreams and maybe helps with an abortion. The adult reader is trying to connect with her own ghosts as she tries to get through another brunch.

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

Warnings: There is talk of abortion (spoiler: it doesn't happen), another trippy dream sequence, sexual tension, ghost Jackie, heartbroken Reader, Adult Reader lore dropping this chapter, and making Natalie jealous with Lottie is becoming a thing, lol.

Word count: 15.7k

Notes: I hope you guys will forgive me for posting this morning instead of last night. I completely crashed after I got home. This needs another edit, but I hope you enjoy it! Also, please tell me what you think about the outfits at the end of the chapter! We did another Poll to see what will happen after everything with Natalie and this was the outcome!

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist ❀

‘96

You groan in frustration at the small nut in your hand, which is rotten and has a small hole made from an animal. You throw the chestnut onto the forest floor with a sigh. “It’ll just make us more constipated,” you think as you focus on whatever small nuts could still be on the ground. You didn’t have much hope to forage like everyone else, as things have been getting harder lately. No luck with the hunter, and the fishing season was leaving as September started. You sigh again as you roll your eyes.

“Seriously? How the fuck are there no berry.” Mari grumbles as she stands up from a bush. She pulls her leg up and kicks the branches.

“The birds could be picking them off? Or-or mice?” Akilah tries to reason as she rests her hand to cover her eyes. Everyone was feeling the frustration of hunger.

You sigh softly and say, “We’re not the only animals out here looking for food.”

“I’d eat the crap out of a mouse right now,” Van confesses as she sits on a rock for rest.

“Ew.” “Gross.”

“You know, some animals live off eating their own vomit.” Lottie adds, trying to get the attention away from her best friend.

“Okay. Thanks for the image, Lot.” Van sighs back to Lottie, a whisper of a smirk on her lips in humor.

“Did dead cabin guy tell you that, or do you guys just chat about blood and stuff?” Mari snickered to Lottie as she looked over to the crouching girl.

“No, we mostly talk about how Danny Mears dumped you for his own cousin,” Lottie said with a mocking smile, sending it to Mari as she stood up and walked away.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips. Your eyes followed Lottie as she walked away toward the fork in the trail, leading towards the field area and the thicker parts of the woods. Mari looked at you and then back to Akilah and Van: “Hey! They’re second cousins. And that’s totally legal, you know.”

You look at Mari with a snicker growing wider on your lips as you say to her in your kind voice, “Stand up, girl. You don’t have to defend your cousin's fucking ex. Danny Mears is fucking weirdo.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed Lottie onto the path, ignoring Mari, who was trying to defend herself again. You felt Van behind you as you approached Lottie, who quickly turned around in fear. Van said before you could speak, “Hey, look, ignore Mari, okay? I don’t think she has taken a shit in, like, two weeks.”

You pause as Van speaks to look over Lottie’s face. She had seen something. You felt it in the way her eyes looked burdened.

“Yeah.” Lottie breathlessly replies.

“Are you okay?” Van asks Lottie quickly as she looks her over as you did a moment ago. Seeing the same thing you did in Lottie. Lottie looks behind herself for a second, and both of your eyes follow hers to see only empty bushes and leaves. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Lottie replies again with a soft smile on her lips. “It’s- it’s fine.”

Van nods her head softly and looks her over a little. “Okay.”

Van accepts what Lottie says to her and returns to the others foraging, but you stay planted in your spot.

You didn’t want to sound crazy, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to say. “It’s okay, you know. I’ve seen and heard crazy stuff out here, too, since we’ve been here. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

Lottie looks at you with wide eyes for a moment, then looks behind herself again, and says, “I am crazy. I-I don’t understand what I am seeing. These are wrong.”

You paused as you took in her words, trying to find the right thing to say: “I don’t think you're completely crazy, then. Like the seance thing, I know you can’t speak French. I’ve seen things on my own out here.”

Lottie’s eyes soften as she slowly lowers her eyes to the ground in a mix of confusion and fear. “Like, what did I even say? I’m not good at French, I don’t even-”

“You spoke it like you lived in Quebec, Lottie. It was scary.” You admit to her without needing to think. You didn’t want to tell her what she said as you didn’t want to think about what she said that night. “That’s why I don’t think you made it up like the others.”

Lottie looks back up to you quickly as she studies your face. She shakes her head softly and says, “I didn’t fake it. I don’t even remember anything after the fake boob question.”

You nod and touch her arm for reassurance. “I know. I don’t know if ghosts or spirits exist, but after that, I don’t know if I can say that anymore.”

“What did you see?” She asks, almost desperate for someone to reassure her and tell her she wasn’t the only one seeing what she saw that night.

“Well, what I saw wasn’t during the seance.” You spieled off as you looked back at the others, ensuring they were out of earshot. You said, “I saw it that day; I was gone all day. It-It just wasn’t right.”

Lottie looks at you with an intensity you can’t place. She asks, “What was it?”

“It was this weird-looking tree. It was familiar, but I knew we didn’t have one like that on the trail. It looked like a woman peeking out at me because it curved and stuff.” You try to explain, but you can’t find the right words to convey the horror you felt that day. “I kept walking on the trail, and when I got to the plane, it was like I couldn’t go past it. I felt like I was walking for hours in circles, always coming back to the nose of the plane even though I had passed it moments before. I don’t know if I was asleep, dreaming this all, or something was turning me around for a reason…” You confess to Lottie, who stares at you with wide, concerned eyes, and you let your gaze drop to the ground in embarrassment. You shouldn’t have said anything. “Sorry, I must sound crazy right now.”

Lottie looks at you deeply and is almost lost in your words, looking at the wrinkle in your eyebrow that has formed since the crash. “I don’t think you're crazy. (Y/n), I don’t think you were just seeing things.”

“Well, I have to be because there is no such thing as a tree woman.”

“No, but dreams are said to have meaning to them. My mom always told me that my daydreams were so intense because of my imagination and anxiety.” Lottie explains, her voice growing more passionate as if she is finding a solution to her problems. “But I don’t think it was my imagination. I think it was a vision.”

You paused in your listening to her for a moment to feel the weight of her words because, for the first time in a while, you believed Lottie’s words weren’t out of mental illness but out of her own perspective truth. You couldn’t help but take in her words as a smile comes to your lips. “Like a psychic medium?” you ask her as you lean toward her with a chuckle. “I would believe it. You always know something before something comes out. Like Rebecca Glassmen.”

She chuckles as you remind her of the old gossip about Rebecca being pregnant. Lottie says she was faking it to get her boyfriend to stay with her. It turns out to be true after they break up, and her ex-boyfriend tells the whole school how much of a psycho she is. Lottie clocked it as soon as it was whispered at the Lunch table.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. When I was 6, my parents took me to the World Trade Center to see where my dad works, and we had a day out in the city. But, on our way back home, we were at this red light, and my parents were talking about something on the radio. I felt this rush through my body. I saw meat and glass and blood everywhere on my mom’s face and my dad’s; I screamed.” Lottie paused as she continued, her eyes glossed over momentarily, and she didn’t seem to notice. You did. “They both looked at me, telling me to shut up, but when I was screaming, the light went green. The car next to us went ahead just as a semi-truck had brakes snap; it was a horrible crash. My mom is convinced I can see things because her mother, I guess, did the same thing. But, um, yeah, the driver of the car survived, but the passenger passed away in the crash, and it’s something not even my dad can explain. My dad doesn’t believe in any of this shit, so he has me go to therapy and take pills to stop them. I wish I had them again.” She says this almost breathlessly, as if she is lost in the present moment but completely focused on your conversation.

You don’t know if you fully believe in all the psychic talk, but it was interesting. You weren’t completely closed off to the idea of the spiritual realm, but after what happened in the attic, you believe there are things you can’t explain. You tell her, “Well, I don’t think I ever disbelieved in the supernatural. My grandparents' house was scary, and I am sure I had seen something before when I was young. I think you did see something before that car crash, Lottie,” You say to her with a soft nod. She beams underneath this almost gloss in her eyes, and you pause as you carefully place your words together.

“I think that not everything you see has a meaning, but something does have meaning because we place it on them. The cross means nothing to Taissa, but to Laura Lee, it means everything because it means something deeply to her. I do think that sometimes we need to place judgment on them and see if they do connect. I think that maybe what happened to me meant that something within can’t get past the plane crash, like I can’t even get in feet of that thing without having a panic attack, and maybe I can’t move on from it. Like, I’m mentally stuck on the plane. I know that sounds crazy, with us being stuck here, but something within my soul is more disturbed by the crash.”

Lottie nods her head and smiles. Her hand comes to her upper arm as she steps closer to you. You two stand so close together that it makes your heart skip a beat and halt your breath. “I think we should meet in the morning to discuss our dreams. I feel better talking to you. How do you feel?”

You wouldn’t help as your eyes scanned over her face. You felt her breath on your skin, breath lodged in your throat, and you felt yourself stunted for a moment. You took a moment to get lost in her brown eyes and tan skin. She was so beautiful. You remember how it felt to kiss her, but you couldn’t let yourself feel that way for her. Both of you placed a boundary around your friend to protect it, but at this moment, it felt like both of you were going to risk ruining it.

Lottie just waits for your answer with her eyes looking down at you like you were prey. You felt the electricity in the air between you two as you finally found your words.

“I feel good. We should.” You breathlessly say to her as you step back against the tree. A cavil memory comes to your mind of when you were pushed against a tree by Natalie. You didn’t want to remember that day. You didn’t want to believe that she didn’t want anything to do with you after everything. But you couldn’t help but lean onto whatever feeling this was as you locked eyes with Lottie. It was something thickening the air around you quickly. You almost felt yourself pull forward to Lottie’s lips by some pressure in the back of your head.

Lottie’s lips started to move before she could speak, and a snap of a branch ripped the two of you from the moment. Lottie snaps her head behind herself, and you peek over her shoulder to see bottle blonde streaks of hair.

You felt a red-hot embarrassment come through your body.

“Hey, uh, I wanted to tell you everyone left- I was just passing through,” Natalie says quickly to Lottie as she looks at her and back to you. You locked your eyes to the ground as a sour pout came to your lips. You couldn’t help but want to cry.

“Oh- Okay, Nat, me and (y/n) were just talking,” Lottie says with an almost nervous friendliness.

“Oh, okay,” Natalie says slowly, with a rasp, as she looks at the two of you. Almost a darkness comes over Natalie’s Aura as she looks at the two of you.

You wanted to sprint away from both of them and cry. You say quickly, “So, anyways, Lottie, let’s do a morning dream circle or something. I’d like that,” as you move yourself off the tree and back to the trail. Your neck clicks as you rush out of your situation. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

You literally felt your heart start to pound painfully against your chest as you stormed out of the clearing. You wanted to scream.

Why did Natalie look at you like that?

Why did Lottie?

What fucking right does Natalie have looking at you like that with Lottie? All you did was talk. All you did was look. Fuck her. Fuck Travis. Fuck them. Fuck you, Natalie Scatorccio.

You bite your lip in frustration as you look down at the water, praying that something will finally take a bite of food. The river bank was still and smelled of hot milkweed peeking out of the water; the wilderness singing all around you didn’t stop the inner turmoil burning your insides. You couldn’t help but let your mind dwell on Natalie and Travis as they normally did when you were alone.

What were they doing? Hunting? Kissing? Fucking?

You couldn’t stop the spiral of cruel thoughts. It makes you want to vomit sometimes. It made you resurface every insecurity within yourself and blossom under the burning sun of jealousy and bitterness. She loves a boy, and you're not a boy. It’s that simple.

You were only for fucking. And Travis was for love and companionship.

You were just a passing pleasure.

A simple masturbatory lay.

She knew you liked her. She knew you were a virgin. She had to know how you felt and knew you would give anything to her if she acted like she liked you the same. She knew you were desperate for a companion. For someone to love you and for you to love them.

“Natalie sees me the same way she sees Misty.” You miserably thought as you tried not to let the tears form in your eyes.

Her not talking to you has been getting to you. She would be dismissive towards you, didn’t even look you in the eyes at your morning announcements anymore, and giggled at Travis while you tried to get through your words.

You couldn’t help but feel little pieces of glass stab into your flesh every time she stole a glance back at him in your presence. Jealousy has been evergreen within your veins since you lost your virginity.

You knew you shouldn’t be worried about this. Shauna is pregnant, we’re losing food every day, and you miss your family. But Natalie greedily stole all the space in your mind.

“Hey, you okay?” Van asks from the brush behind you. You didn’t notice her walking towards you with a laundry basket. She only saw your back quivering as you were trying to fish.

You glanced behind your shoulder at her as you felt your lip quiver. You were going to cry. You try to calm your voice as you squeak, “I’m okay!”

All efforts to stop her from coming closer were dead in the water as she put down the basket and came to sit beside you. Van quietly looks over at you in concern as she tries to piece together your pain. She gently asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You felt your lip shake as a tear rolled down your cheek. You tried to steel your face, saying, “I don’t know if I should.”

Van jooks at you and scans down to your hands holding the old fishing pole. They shook slightly. The pressure of her kind eyes allowed you to vomit out your feelings.

“I don’t think I am lovable.” You sob out as your face twists into an ugly cry of despair. Your body shakes as you let out your dark thoughts, “I did something stupid, Van, and now I am just feeling so alone because I can’t tell anyone!”

Van is shocked at your outburst but comforts you with her hands on your shoulders. Your body violently shakes, and you feel sadness come over you. “Hey! Hey! What happened, (y/n)? You can tell me!”

“I don’t think I can!” You sobbed as you felt as if your eyes wouldn’t stop rivering down your cheeks. You said, “I could be outting someone.”

Van’s eyes widen for a second, but she quickly says as she grabs your shoulder firmly, “I don’t fucking care, why are you crying?! What happened?”

You cry as Van’s hands lead you down to their chest, and you feel yourself curl into her arms, crumbling under the comfort. You cry harder as you say into her chest, “I had sex with Natalie.”

“What?!” Van says, shocked, but as softly as she can manage not to upset you.

“Me and Natalie, two weeks ago, had sex in the woods when we were alone. She fingered me, and when I tried to reciprocate, she just pushed me away and told me it was all a mistake. She likes Travis-”

“She told you that just after she fingered you?!”

“Yes! She did. She just told me it was all a mistake. She likes Travis. I knew that when I was doing it.” You sobbed as you pulled away from your embrace with Van. You held a palm to your quivering lips. The weight of your emotions cut out your words. “I don’t know why I did it. I-I knew I wasn’t who she wanted.”

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so fucking sorry.” Van says as she pets the back of your head. She just watches you as you are crying. She is trying her best to calm you down from your helpless sadness. “Tai and I talked about how Natalie was giving you the cold shoulder, and we didn’t know why. Tai asked Natalie what was up, and Natalie said nothing was up and that the two of them were fine. I never would have thought-”

You sniffle as you shake your head, and your eyes close in pain. You didn’t mean anything to her.

“I meant nothing to her.” You quietly say as you look away from Van. Looking at her in the eyes would be too vulnerable for you. “I don’t even get a good lie. I just get we’re fine.” You darkly chuckle at the realization. You felt a twist in your core and changed the emotion consuming you. A giggle formed in your throat as you joked, “At least I know it’s not because I’m fat. It’s because I'm gay.”

“What?” Van asks, bewildered but amused at the mood swings. You turn your head to face her again.

“I know it’s not because I’m fat. I was always worried someone wouldn’t want me because I was too fat.” You laugh as you wipe your nose with your sleeve, cleaning the drips of snot. “It’s because I’m a dyke, and she’s straight!”

Van chuckles softly at your words, but your laughing amuses her. She rubs your back as your laughs slowly morph into cries again. Your hand comes over your face to hide it. You felt much more sadness than Natalie rejecting you, but you couldn’t help but focus only on this nasty feeling.

“I don’t know. I’m hurt because I don’t think Natalie is my friend anymore.” You wept into your hand, feeling yourself shake as you finally released the words into the air. “S-she wants nothing to do with me!”

Van pulls you into another hug as she rubs your arm. She brings you so close you are almost in her lap as she says, “Fuck that. Nat used you and acted like it was your fault. If she doesn’t want to be your friend, then that is on her and not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You paused as you let Van comfort you in this moment. You looked at her and asked, “I don’t understand. I don’t get why she wants nothing to do with me now.”

“Because she knows she fucked up. Fuck her. I don’t want to leave you now. I’m so sorry. Seriously, I am going to sit here with you all day.”

You try to pull away from her hold, but she keeps you in her grip. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I will.” Van says with a stern lip, “I’m not going to leave you today. You don’t deserve that shit from that fucking burnout. It’s wild.”

You let yourself breathe and calm down as you nudge Van with your shoulder, a smile softly coming to your tear-stained face. You didn’t have any fight in your body anymore. “Okay. Is it okay if we just sit here and look at the water for a while? I can teach you to fish.”

Van nods and softly smiles, “Yeah-yeah, whatever you want.”

‘21

You rub your ring finger with your thumb as you nurse your cigarette. You sat relaxed on the small kitchen table of Natalie’s hotel room as you looked out the window to the parking lot, waiting for Shauna to finally show up.

You knew she was going to be mad at you. She doesn’t even know you’re still in contact with the others. You didn’t know that she kept their numbers. You and her always had some secrets from each other, but Shauna was one to hold a grudge. You normally forgive her misgivings without thought, but she will hound you for weeks about even the smallest withholding of information.

You felt the chair beside you move as someone pulled it out to sit next to you. You slowly glanced at the woman next to you and looked back out the window.

“What have you been up to? I heard about that, uh, ‘Blood Oath’?” Taissa asks as she looks over you with a softness in her eyes.

You softly smile at the words and shake your head as you ash the fresh cigarette. “Yeah, you hear about it.”

“I mean there isn’t a lot of lesbian media out there.”

You look over at Taissa and say, “Yeah, I’ve written a few lesbian romance troilys. I have Blood Oath and Mushroom Circle about a fairy, and I am currently writing Three Wishes about a jinn. I am finally using my history minor and going on a press circuit. I have a whole panel to go to in a few days.”

“How has that worked out for you?” Taissa says as she pulls out a cigarette from your box. Something was comfortable with the women you were with, but you didn’t know how you felt about Taissa coming closer.

“It’s worked out good. I got my dream job, and it keeps the lights on. I think I might be taking a break after this.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting old. I’m losing steam over romance altogether. I’m thinking about finally dipping into sci-fi.”

“I mean, it’s about time. How many times have you read Dune?” She jokes softly as she lights her cigarette. You look at the woman, let your eyes study her, and take her all in. You don’t feel anything negative when she mentions the book you brought to the wilderness. You read it repeatedly, let the others burrow the behemoth, and still found yourself reading it when you were deathly bored. It had something new every time you read. You remember the second spring and summer out there, conversing about the book in an almost book club. It felt light and nostalgic. It was odd, but you didn’t let yourself stop.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same. It could be me correcting all the male centric bullshit.”

“Make it lesbain somehow?” Taissa jokes with a snicker, her nose crinkled playfully, as she puffs from the cigarette.

You roll your head back with a cackle. “You better know it.”

You notice Natalie pacing by the bathroom, but you ignore it. Your attention was off of Taissa, which felt very familiar. These women with you in a closed-in space were something your body seemed to remember as your heart beat faster in your chest. You noticed your fingers didn’t stop rubbing on the other. It was a tick you’ve grown to have over the years, and you looked down on it.

Taissa looks at your hand, then stares down at your ring finger. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck raised as you realised this is the first time she has seen you without your old engagement ring.

“If you're going to ask about it, just go for it.” You sigh as you ash your cigarette in a vodka bottle cap.

“Um,” Taissa looks almost longingly at the table and back at you and asks, “How are you and Van?”

You take a long drag on your cigarette. “We didn’t end up getting married. Van’s mom got sick, and my dad got dementia, and we- yeah.” You sigh. And you felt something sharp come over you as your eyes slice to Taissa’s, and you ask, “How’s Simone?”

Knock! Knock!

A polite knock against the hotel door saves you from hearing more from Taissa. You didn’t want to get any closer to Taissa. She scared you and was a coward when you needed her most. You were too grown to be getting closer to her again and having another toxic cycle begin. Luckily, you have learned how to shoo away politely as possible while letting someone know you weren’t happy with them. Natalie rushed to the door but paused as she held the door handle and slowly opened it to look at Shauna for the first time in almost a decade.

You stood up as you looked out the window to see Shauna awkwardly standing in front of the door, looking behind herself, paranoid. You took your last puff to ready yourself for whatever was to come.

Natalie opens the door wider for Shauna to come in. Tension is thick in the air as the two women lock eyes. You look on at them and smile at Shauna as Natalie paces to the other side of the room and towards the bed.

Shauna looks at you sharply as if to tell you to stand near her, and you find yourself coming closer. With the tension in the air, you can tell there was something more than terror and memories; it was jealousy.

“You look like shit.” Natalie chuckles, sarcastically, as she looks on at Shauna.

“Uh, well, back at you.” Shauna retorts with a pinched smile.

“How’s Jeff?” Natalie whispered in a hiss to Shauna. It was goading and mocking. You knew what she was mentioning, and you couldn’t help yourself as you grabbed Shauna’s forearm gently. “Is he still hocking futons?”

“Okay, no, no!” Taissa says as she leans against the counters with her cigarette in hand. “We’re not doing this, okay? Not after all the shit we’ve gone through. Now, we’re in a situation here. We’re gonna deal with it.” She paused as she looked at Natalie, then back to Shauna, and then back again to let the air settle. “Together.”

You rub Shauna’s arm, comforting her, saying, “It’s bigger than our feelings right now.”

“Okay, fine. What’s- what’s going on?” Shauna asked, exacerbated.

Natalie walks gently to the table where Travis's crime scene photos are. You still can’t make yourself look at them without feeling a rumbling of fear inside you, still marked with the symbol. Shauna looks over and leans forward to look closer, her eyebrow crinkled with caution. “Is that Travis?”

Natalie's eyes looked haunted for a moment, water lining them. You wanted to cry when you felt yourself nod, “Yeah, Shauna. It’s Trav.”

Shauna sits down and looks closer. Natalie says as Shauna looks closer, “Someone stung him up and then tried to cover their tracks.”

Taissa adds, puffing her cigarette, “We think it’s the same person who’s blackmailing us.”

Shauna’s head snapped up in confusion and worry. “What? Blackmail?”

Taissa and Natalie share a look, and then Natalie looks back at you. Neither of you got a text about it. “But you didn’t… get one of these?” as she leans back to the bed to pull out a postcard.

Shauna is completely bewildered as she looks at the postcard. She leans forward, says, “What?” and investigates the rest of the card. She pauses with almost anger in her eyes when she sees the symbol. “No. What do they want?”

Natalie rolls an eye of frustration, and Taissa says before Natalie can speak, “50 grand in cash to keep their mouths shut. We’re not sure exactly what they know, but we don’t want to find out.”

“You all got one?” Shauna asks, and she looks over to you. You feel a lot of pressure on you now, and you quickly blurt, “No. I didn’t get one. Misty did, though.”

“I mean, it’s got to be someone from the team, right? I mean, who else would know about this?”

“That reporter, " Natalie said with a smug smirk. She felt like she knew exactly who had done this.

“Wait, wait. I thought I told you to take care of her,” Shauna says to Taissa, which raises an eyebrow. She was also talking to the team members behind your back.

“I threatened a lawsuit. I told her to back off.” Taissa, crossed her arms, defended.

“Fuck this.” Natalie snaps as she grabs her phone.

“What are you doing?” Taissa asks. In this moment, you feel yourself rubbing Shauna’s shoulder for your own comfort and her own; she feels less tense as the girls talk.

“I’m gonna bring Jessica Roberts- great fake name, by the way- to us. And I’ll just say, 'I’m ready to tell my story.'” Natalie says as she starts to form a text with her thumb.

“No, because if it’s not her, then we are handing her the exact kind of story she is looking for,” Shauna says with a wave of the hand over the crime photos.

“Shauna’s right.” You mumble as you try not to panic. You knew in your heart that Jessica was out of anyone, but you didn’t like the logic of going to her now.

“Yeah, Shauna’s right, Nat. Please.” Taissa agreed as she looked at Natalie worriedly and shook her head. She was rightfully worried as Natalie didn’t stop sending texts to Jessica. “Please, just put the phone down. Stop it. Stop it!” Tassia stressed as her eyes started to widen.

“Natalie!” Shauna calls out to have Natalie stop.

“Please, Nat, stop it. Please, don’t talk to her!” You worry and come closer to Natalie, making Natalie look up at you, annoyed.

“Fucking put the phone down!” Taissa hissed at Natalie, who was slowly putting down the phone.

Natalie tilted her head to Taissa and said, “You know I don’t like it when you yell at me.” She dramatically puts the phone down.

“Can you get the money?” Shauna asks Taissa. You bristle a little at the question but don’t want to make it a big deal.

“I’m working on it.”

“Once you do, we put a GPS tracker in the cash, and that way, we can follow it, and see who, what we’re- we’re dealing with.’ Shauna says, planning out what the mission will be. It felt familiar and quiet; you didn’t know how you placed yourself. “Together,” Shauna added as she looked on at Natalie.

Natalie smiles at Shauna; a little bit of the hatchet was buried, as they agree with the plan.

“I cannot believe I’m about to say this, but should we loop Misty in?” Shauna asks the group, and you feel yourself lean forward on this. You add, “Yeah, I think we should. She could track down the sender of the text from a pin or something, and she could-”

“No. She could be part of it.” Taissa shook her head, and you couldn’t help but scoff at the idea.

“That’s a little far-fetched.” You say to Taissa with a smile, “She would lie about something to make us closer to her, but blackmail us. That is too far for even Misty.”

“Well, she did take me to see Travis, but first, she fucked with my car.” Natalie paused to inform the other two about your trip together. You felt yourself doubting Misty at that moment because it was all odd. “Still, she’s been helping me to figure this all out.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause, naturally,” Shauna says as she waves her hand, dry and sarcastic. “Is there anything else I should know about, or does the blackmail, Travis maybe being murdered, and this one playing buddy cop with Misty Quigley just about cover it?”

Natalie sniffed in response.

You sigh and nod as you rub Shauna’s shoulder again. “Yeah, that about does it.”

You feel yourself relax on the sand as your eyes open to an open lake view. It was beautiful. The water simmered in the lake like glitter in the air, making you want to walk into it. A summer breeze gently caresses your face as you gaze at how the sun sets on the horizon's edge. It was pure and something made by loving hands, as Laura Lee once said.

There was someone familiar in the water. Your mother looked at the sun and turned around, the rays of light highlighting the baby hairs that stood atop her head. “Peanut, come into the water! It’s heaven!” Your mother says to you with a giggle in her throat. She was healthy. She looked just how she did in your childhood before her illness. Before, she let her hair go grey. Before, she went bald. She made the scene beautiful.

A lightness spreads all around your body. You feel warmth you haven’t felt in months. Your mom is here, and she is healthy and young.

You call out happily, “I’m coming! I’ve been waiting for you!”

You stand up and feel almost nothing around you, not even the sand or your clothes, as you yourself strip down to your underwear to swim.

You walk towards the water, carefree and almost relieved to see her.

Absentmindedly, you glance down at your feet in habit only to find coldness touching your feet. It wasn’t water of a hot summer day. It was frost.

You take a second to look at the snow that fell onto your foot as you walked forward; your toes have the white fluff in between, and you notice how cold you are. You look up to see not only your mother gone but you're no longer at the lake. You're on the snow-covered cliffside.

You hesitated as you slowed your movements. It was your feet in snow. You were in your underwear. Long hairs your legs and even from your feet stood up. As you looked down at the dirty toes of your body as something change in the air.

The stillness of everything wasn’t right. It’s not winter yet. The wilderness is never this quiet.

You panic silently as you start to look up. It was all tall birch trees with autumn leaves still attached at the tops. Red and violent oranges stared down at you.

You look back down to a pond or a river. It wasn’t clear, as most of your legs were now submerged in it. It was all red. It made you shiver when the water brushed against your thighs.

Laisse l'obscurité te libérer.

You heard something from within the water. You didn’t like this, and you didn’t want this. The coldness of the water stabs into your fleshy thighs.

The water was corrupted—something rotten like the smell of eggs and iron. You felt yourself walk across this water bank, fearing something might grab at your legs.

‘It’s blood.’ you say out loud, as you try lto leave the tainted water. It was death. It was something dark.

“No, no, no. Mom!” You called out in a panic. Did she fall in? Is it red because she is hurt? No, the whole body of water is red; it was like a vein of the forest.

You felt your lips quiver as you struggled out of the water towards the shore, you trip on your foot in the sand and fall into the water until your knees touched the bottom. “MOMMY!” You sobbed out as you tried to look around as you felt yourself not finding your footing.

Splash! Splash!!

You hear splashing in the water before you feel your nose fill with the thick pond water. It tasted as it smelt: “AH!” You yelped when you found air. You tried to move away from the force that pulled you under, only to find yourself being pulled down deeper.

Your thrash and kick, flailing your arms, as you open your eyes to the metallic sting. Darkness tugged on your leg, wrapped around like a tentacle of some Greek myth, and you can’t help but panic.

You were drowning, but there was no pain. There was no sting of water in your throat.

Waving your desperate arms to the sky, only to see the disgusting water above. Praying a hand will come and save you.

Splash!

As you fight with the darkness below, an another body is thrown into the water. As you stared at the body, it was thin, and you couldn’t make out anything to identify the girl whose lifeless body floated down like a rock.

You struggle as the exhaustion comes to your legs, the being tightens its grip.

It doesn’t stop pulling, but you stopped swimming.

You feared what was at the bottom and who had just fallen into the water. But it was peaceful when you stared up at the stain translucent water. It was enough for you to feel at ease.

You close your eyes.

‘96

You gasped awake in a panic, a hand resting on your frantic heart. Your body shook as you looked around the dusty, dank attic, and Shauna was lying beside you now, stirring at your noise.

You felt tears fall out of your eyes without you realizing you were tearing up as you try to push air into your body, you were awake. It was just a horrible dream.

Shauna stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes, a frown on her lips. “Are you okay?” she yawns.

You pant as you nod your head. “Yeah, horrible nightmare. I’m fine, go back to bed.”

Creak!

There are the sounds of someone softly stepping up the ladder to the attic, and a pair of shoes are gently placed on the floor. You see Taissa’s head pointing out from the hatch. She almost widens her eyes when she notices both of you awake.

“Hey. where have you been?”

“I had to pee,” Taissa quickly says as she looks to the floor. She goes to her sleeping bag and asks, “What are you two doing up?”

“Bad dream,” Shauna says before you can, stretching her arms on her side of the makeshift bed. You look to Taissa as you try to fix your hair in your grogginess.

“What was it this time? A Cheeseburger-baby?” Taissa chuckled as she stood still at the foot of your bags. You giggle as you try to braid your hair back to where it was before falling asleep.

Shauna laughs, “I should have never told you about that.” She looks down to the ground, and worry seems to pass through her. “What am I going to do?”

Taissa’s eyes soften as she slowly lowers herself to the floor to look Shauna in the eyes. You tie the end of your braid to get closer. “What do you mean?” you ask softly, as your eyebrow crinkles in worry for her.

“I heard that Katie Lindstrom did with the underwire of her bra last year,” Shauna states as she looks at you. She was serious. You just look on at her with wide, concerned eyes. “Shauna, that was a rumor-”

“Have you lost your mind? You’ll die.” Taissa adds with a grave undertone.

Shauna’s lip quiver as she whispers back, “I’ll probably die either way. I’m in the middle of nowhere, and the Ob-gyn on call is Misty fucking Quigley!” she took a breath as she looked away with eyes in her eyes. You wanted to sob at the way she spoke, and you wanted to vomit at the idea you were going to lose your best friend. You grab her arm and rub it to comfort her as a tear rolls down your cheek, looking down to Shauna’s lap, as she continued her rant, “At least this way I won’t die having my best friends-” she cuts herself off.

You paused as you slowly looked up at Shauna’s face, your eyes widening as you turned to look at Taissa. You couldn’t speak, think, or move. The information was just not expected.

Shauna hates Jeff. She doesn’t like him and cheers whenever Jackie and him break up… You couldn't help but look back at everything that happened in your friendship and see the truth. Shauna was sleeping with Jeff, not the whole time, but at least since her hatred for him formed.

“What… what were you about to say?” Taissa asks Shauna with wide eyes, and she also takes in the bombshell and you.

For a moment, only the summer crickets' song could be heard. You looked on at Shauna in disbelief. You couldn’t believe she would betray Jackie, but you couldn’t help but be hurt that she didn’t confide that in you once. “Shauna?” Taissa asks again, more momentous.

“At least this way I won’t die having my best friend’s boyfriend’s baby.” She whispers with a stammer in it from her emotions. She is crying now as she finally looks at you; she feels judged and disgusting. You rub your hand softly. You ask, in disbelief, “It’s Jeffs?”

Shauna doesn’t say anything as her teary eyes burn into yours, almost begging you for forgiveness, like you were Jackie. You couldn’t help the betrayal that painted your face as tears welled in your eyes, overwhelmed with the truth. She was telling the stone-cold truth. You were starting to accept the facts, but it hurt you to think about what Jackie would say.

“Whoa.” Taissa sighed as she felt what everyone was feeling. “Okay. I mean… Wow. Yeah.” She processed as she has Shauna looking at her, “But still, Shauna, it’s not worth dying to keep Jackie from finding out.”

“It’s not Shauna.” You agreed as you sniffled a little bit. You were overwelemingly sad, and your dream didn’t help you prepare for the heaviness of the situation. “Jackie doesn’t have to find out.” As you grab her arm, you quickly say, “We must lie to her. We can’t let this get out. It-it.” You try to find an easy lie as fast as you can. “It was Randy! Randy marsh and you fucked at the party and I saw it! It’s okay! Please, we don’t have to do that, Shauna.”

“I have a plan, alright?” Taissa cut in, “To head south and find help. So just wait.”

You nodded at Taissa’s words. We all needed to leave, and the group needed to start being more aggressive with our approach to leaving. You turned your head to Shauna, came closer, and rubbed her back as lovingly as possible. You were angry with her, but she was deeply regretful in a dire situation; you loved her more than any other feeling. “Yeah, please just wait.”

“Please, promise me not to do anything stupid,” Taissa begs as she puts a hand on Shauna’s knee. You kiss Shauna’s temple, rub her back, and Taissa moves to lie down on her bed.

Shauna was silent as her eyes dried, her tear-stained face plagued by heavy thoughts. She doesn’t respond to your affection but doesn’t push you away when you lightly push her to bed. You cuddle beside her and plead, “Shauna, I will be here no matter what. I love you. Please, we need to find our way out, and I will go with you to get an abortion at a clinic with professionals.”

Shauna nods her head with empty eyes. “Okay.” She weakly says as she turns away from you so you can cuddle her back. You feel her shaking as she starts to cry into her pillow. She cries softly, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You quietly rub her back and look at the back of her brunette hair. You feel a shy tear fall off the side of your eye and into your ear. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is you surviving this. Fuck everything else.”

Shauna just cries as you softly pet her hair and hold her shivering body. Taissa looks over at the two of you from her bed, concerned, and turns to keep an eye on them.

You wake up in the early morning hours with an ache in your body, and your neck is stiff as always. You feel dark circles under your eyes as you rub your eyes to wake up fully. You sit up and look around the room to see Taissa and Shauna still resting. You felt pressure on your blader as you sat up in your blankets and didn’t bother to mess with your undone hair.

You yawn into your hand as you quietly creep to the ladder and descend. You saw the girls sleeping on the floor, but empty beds were lying about like they were going to where you were going now. You don’t think much about this morning as you peacefully walked out of the cabin and onto your trail to the pooping corner.

As you finished your business, Lottie walked by with a wide-eyed look of excitement: “(y/n)! You’re up!”

You zip your pants and chuckle, “Yeah, I’m up. I had a fucking crazy dream.”

Lottie stands next to you from the other side of the bushes. “I did, too. I asked Van to come with us because her dreams have been off, too, if that's okay.”

You smile and nod, “Oh, yeah, that's fine. I love Van.”

Lottie almost dropped her cheerful smile as she furrowed her eyebrow a bit. She quickly smiled again and nodded her head. “Yeah, she’s great. She’s been my best friend since diapers.”

You nod your head as you try to explain the swing of expressions she made, you walk beside her and say, “Van’s always been nice to me, but since we’ve been here she has been such a good friend to me.” you look down to your feet and back to Lottie,

Lottie nods her head with a pinched lip. She looks away for a moment and then smiles back at you. “She’s a good friend. I’m happy you two have gotten close.”

You look at the side of Lottie’s face, not knowing where her cheeriness went as you say, “Dreams last night?”

Lottie looks back at you in surprise. You were looking at her, thinking, and she says, “Yeah, I had some weird ones last night.”

You return to the cabin to find Van and Laura Lee standing around the fire. Lottie nods over to them with a smile and cuts off your conversation to sit in a circle. Van is placing logs, while Laura Lee is placing kindling in the places between.

You sit down and feel yourself hug the blanket closer in the crisp morning breeze. The others slowly sat beside you in the circling trunks surrounding the main fireplace. Lottie cleared her throat, saying, “Alright, let's start this thing. I had a dream about a talking squirrel, “ She blurts out with a giggle. Laura chuckles as well as Van, “It was saying something about breathing in life and that if I just go with the flow, I would be fine.” She confesses with another chuckle.

You narrow your eyes as you snort, “That’s it? Anything else?”

“Do you have anything better?” Van snarks with a chuckle. She looks over at you with a joking look.

“A little.” You smile at her as you look down at your feet and put them closer to the small fire. “I had a dream about my mom at the lake. I, like, went to the water, and it then became winter. Snow everywhere and shit, in my toes. I saw this lake of blood.”

“Exodus 7:14.” Laura Lee mumbles beside you; you turn your head to her with confusion.

“What?”

“A river of blood is in Exodus 7:14, part of the ten plagues God sent upon Egypt to convince Pharaoh to release the Israelites from slavery.” She says to you, her legs crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. She is trying her best to be here as a spiritual guide, and you are not uncomfortable with her religious lectures.

“Did it have a meaning behind it? Like, was it a metaphor for something?” You ask her as you rub your hands on your thighs, “I don’t know. It was kinda scary.”

“It was retribution for the drowning of the newborn Hebrew boys in the Nile. It took all the water to drink and to water their food.”

You nodded your head as you rocked gently in your seat. “Well, I saw the lake, and somehow, I am inside the lake. I am standing on the shallow end, and it just smells horrible. I got scared thinking my mom fell in, so I looked for her, and then I was pulled in. I woke up as I was being pulled down.”

The three look on at you with some concern, but Van says, “That was a crazy nightmare. If this is to put meaning on dreams or whatever, I think your dream was about you worrying over your mom.”

Lottie nods and says, “Yeah, I think you were thinking about your mom last night before bed, and you felt all those feelings. I’ve had a few nightmares about my parents since I’ve been here.”

As she plays with the cross on her necklace, Laura Lee says, “I think we should pray together. I’ve kept your mother in my prayers, (Y/n). How about we do one together?”

You felt your heart punch when you were touched by the idea that Laura Lee had been praying for your mom since she got sick. When she told her she would keep her in her prayers the first time, Van and Lottie looked uncomfortable, but you didn’t stop yourself when you said, “You know what, Laura, sure. I think that would make me feel better.”

Laura Lee beams as she grabs your hand in her thin pale one; she grabs the hesitie Van’s. She looks at Lottie and slowly grabs Van’s, then yours. You look on at Laura and Lottie, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. You look at Van doing the same as you, looking at the other, trying not to laugh and being sincere at this moment.

“Dear heavenly father, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. We ask you to look over Mrs. (L/n) and (Y/n) (L/n) in this time of uncertainty and to have mercy on the health of Mrs. (L/n). Amen.”

’21

You sit across from Mr. Taylor as you try to fix your skirt, desperate for a good brunch. You look back up and say, “So, yeah, my sales have been very good this last quarter because my next book-”

“The Three Wishes thing.” Mr. Taylor asks as he sips on his coffee. He is trying to be interested in your life.

“Yeah, and-”

“What were the sales? Number wise for books?” He asked you before you could speak. You felt 15 again in his kitchen. Shauna looks on at you with a wary expression as you are cut off, but there is a small shimmer in her eye that you know but never said. Envy.

“About 100,000 copies, especially because there is this app that younger people like called TikTok, which has gotten much attention for my work. So, if we’re talking about my other books included, it would be about 400,000 copies of them together. It’s getting decent, but when the whole Twilight thing was happening, I had a peak of 1,500,000 copies.”

“You haven’t gotten a movie deal yet? It sounds like you are doing amazing.” He says with a smile growing on his lips and somewhat pride in the little girl he has known for 35 years. You smile back at the praise and nod.

“I haven’t had any deals in the talks, but some are whispering about the rights going to Netflix or Hulu to adaptation because romance is becoming a big genre for teens again.”

“Ta-da!” Mrs. Taylor says with a smile as she presents her dish. Tuna Quiche.

“Oh, wow,” Shauna says with a nod as she looks at the food with a painfully fake positivity. Jeff smiles, and Mr. Taylor smiles as Mrs. Taylor places the dish in the center of the dining table.

You fake a big smile and say, “Thank you, Ms. Taylor. This looks delicious.”

“I know it’s silly to do this each year,” Mrs. Taylor says with a distant look as she turns to the side table where Jackie’s cake and two presents stood. She lifts the two small box presents wrapped with a blue and a yellow ribbon. “It’s not a real birthday without presents.”

The older woman hands you and Shauna the two boxes that are presented. Shauna is trying to be okay as you beam up to her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor, " you say as you gently pull the ribbon, and Shauna unwraps the small box. You already know what it is, and you want to cry.

“Oh, god, look how cute!” You pull out a small porcelain bunny. The brown rabbit is anthropomorphic and dressed in a purple dress and a white parasol. She looks to be dancing like a southern belle with a winked eye.

“Oh,” Shauna sighs as she tries to smile. She pulls out a mother rabbit with babies hanging from her white skirts. It was cute, but it was heartbreaking.

“Oh, yup.” Jeff nodded as he leaned in, “It’s- she’s got little babies. That is nice. That’s very nice. It’s very pretty.”

“It’s- it’s lovely.” Shauna agreed with a forced smile.

You put yours before your plate as if you were happily claiming it. “You even remembered our colors. Right, Shauna, You’re blue, and I’m purple, and Jackie was pink.”

Shauna nodded her head with the same smile. You smiled as you looked at the disappointed Mrs. Taylor. She nodded lightly and said, “Jackie just adored rabbits.”

You just nod as you see Shauna pursing her lip at Ms. Taylor’s comment. It was a mismermory of Jackie.

Mr. Taylor says as he grabs the pie knife, “Dig in before it gets cold.”

“Great.” “Deal!”

You smiled as Mr. Taylor placed a large slice of the quiche onto your plate. You looked over to your side for a piece of toast. You weren’t excited to taste this. You could die without eating fish again.

“Yum! Where did you get this recipe?” You say as you politely eat at her table, remembering how she corrected you in childhood when you slept over. But you know why she needs you here, why you play like you were her child for this hour. “I would never have thought to put tuna in a quiche.”

Mrs. Taylor beams at your compliment and nods, “I got it from Paula Deen! I just love her, and I wish people didn’t judge her so much.”

You felt Shauna kick your leg as you professionally held in a cackle. You lick your lips as you grab your mimosa. “I agree. I mean, what are we comparing her to? The KKK?” You lie through your teeth to appease the racist old woman you can’t stomach upsetting.

“It’s Jackie’s birthday. Just breathe and lie. Just get through this, " you thought as you let Mrs. and Mr. Taylor ramble about how wrongfully she was canceled for her remarks. You wanted to peel your skin, but you bit your tongue. They have always been this way, but at least they were polite.

There was a lull for a moment as Mrs. Taylor looked on at Shauna, a mix of longing and bitterness.

“You two have an anniversary coming up, don’t you?” She asked as she looked at the couple pointedly. You glance up to Mr. Taylor, who has his gaze on his plate. You drank the rest of your mimosa.

“Yup. Yeah, pretty soon.” Jeff answered with a smile. He was in good spirits despite the tension building.

“Jackie would’ve been so happy for you.” She says in a wispy way, you knew that her Valium was kicking in as as then blinks, “I truly believe that. She was generous that way. And always worried about you finding someone, Shauna. And you too, (y/n).” She added, sending you a small smile at the end. You didn’t know how to take any of the tension as you didn’t in previous years. An ongoing feud only on one side out of grief. You knew Shauna enough to know why she still comes; you come for similar reasons. “Sliver linings, I suppose.”

“I think Jackie would be happy with my New York lifestyle.”

“She would be so impressed with how slim you got. You look just like your mother when you were young. You dress up like those girls on Girls. It made me think if you two went to Rutgers.” Mrs. Taylor compliments and aims through your heart like an arrow—one about your mother, another about Jackie, and a comment on your body. Triple digits in one go.

You smile as you take a bite of your quiche. “Oh yeah, I like to think me and her, and Shauna would go the clubs I got to go to. I went to one with pink lighting and flowers on the wall, and my first thought was, 'Jackie, would love this!’” You thoughtfully replied, as you wanted to bite through the tip of your tongue.

Mrs. Taylor almost ignores you as her head sways back to Shauna. “You two are a-a better match. You're both the type to be content. You don’t want more than, well,” she stops, continuing now, hearing the anger in her words. You look down as you nibble on your croissant. You glance up to see Jeff looking at you in shock. “What you have?”

“Um—” Shauna starts, almost instinctively standing up for herself, but she is too shy to continue.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. No, I mean… It’s nonsense all this talk about having it all. The fact is that you can’t be remarkable and raise a family.”

“And you’re the mother of such a special little child.” Mr. Taylor added to lighten the mood a little bit.

“I don’t even like my own daughter.” Shauna retorts with a dryness that matched the food.

Jeff and you hold back giggles as she says that to say professional in this brunch.

“I don't,” Shauna says again as she looks at you. You knew it was a lie but also not dishonest. You couldn’t help but agree that you disliked Callie's behavior but thought it was too far. Jeff chuckles and shakes his head, thinking it was all a joke, “It’s an inside joke. She’s kidding.”

BRINNG! BRINNG! BRINNG!

You widened your eyes as your phone rang in your purse. You quickly turned to the bag hanging on your chair and picked out your phone—it was your publisher.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this business call. I will be right back, " you say as you take the purse strap on your shoulder and stand up. You smile to Mrs. Taylor. “Delicious food. I’m excited for cake.”

You leave the dining room quickly as you answer the call outside on their back patio. You sit down on their pool chair, stare off at the flowers in their garden, and pull out a cigarette, resting it on your lower lip.

“What is it, Anderson? What's the good news?”

“We’re underestimating the excitement for the third book. Marketing and Production have called me saying they are seeing the number rise and will print about 100,000 more books.”

You nearly choked as you lit the end of the cigarette. As Anderson spoke, you said, “What?! What happened?”

“Well, there was this TikTok edit for your Vampire Annette, and now we are finally starting talks about a movie deal!” The young man beams into the phone and rambles on, “And, that gives you that needed break, lady.”

You are stunned as you just blink and look at the green weeds. You were lost for words. This was amazing news. You took a drag of the stick and say, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, Holy shit! You’re going to see a lot of attention soon. I just had to tell you. We will be in touch soon.” Anderson says cheerfully, as he hangs up on you.

You felt yourself still for a moment and held your phone up to your ear still as you smoked away. You didn’t feel happy. You didn’t feel anything for some reason. This brunch has taken out most of your energy for anything else.

“You should be happy, you know, not everyone can make a living off of porn.” A girlish giggle says beside you. You felt your lip quiver as you realized why there was a numbness inside of you: it was because this was going to happen. You turn your head to see Jackie in her orange ruffled bikini from her 15th birthday party, a pool party. She looked so small and childish as she smirked, “You know, if I knew you like vampires so much, I would have watched Nosferatu with you finally after your years of begging and begging.”

In middle school, you three had a movie phase and would watch whatever the other said when you slept over. You pick Nosferatu, but Shauna and Jackie rejected the idea because it was too old, so you all watched Jackie’s pick of It Happened One Night.

You look on at her as you puff your cigarette, a small smile creeps on your lips as it quivers. “You would have hated it.”

“I would have. But we would have been together.” She says with a cheerful smile, it was like a memory of a memory playing out in front of you. You felt 15 again under her gaze.

You had to physically stop yourself from letting yourself cry at those words. You quiver, “I would have, too.”

“If only you said something. None of this would have happened.” She says with a twist in her smirk becoming dark. You wanted to scream with guilt at those words.

You look to your feet as you ash the cigarette and look back up to see the phantom gone from the pairing patio chair. A stinging feeling comes over you that you can’t shake as you slowly look up to the sky. You let yourself cry, smoking the cigarette as if it would clear the stress.

“Jackie should’ve been here.” You think as you shakily take a breath in. Your grief, guilt, and nostalgia lock you in place for a moment.

‘96

Shauna and you crouch down at a Rabbit trap as Jackie says, “I never thought I’d be desperate enough to want to eat a rabbit.”

Shauna sighed as she stood up with nothing. You don’t say anything to Jackie out of exhaustion with the day already. Jackie continues, “Oh, well… I mean, what even is a rabbit? A squirrel with floopy ears and a pom-pom on its ass? Like why? What even is that?”

“It’s a rabbit. What’s this question?” Shauna says warily as she walks forward. She seems as exhausted as you as you walked beside her for support. You stop with them as Jackie moans displeasure at the leaves nibbled on by the clever rabbits that missed the traps.

“I’d sell my firstborn for a cheesesteak right now.” Jackie moans to the two of you.

“Can we stop talking about food?” Shauna quickly says as she rests her fists on her hips. You could feel the silent tension of knowing something Jackie didn’t grow inside you. The firstborn comment made you feel like you were walking on eggshells.

“I think I miss Cheesesteak more than I miss Jeff,” Jackie blurted out. Looking at Shauna, you both chuckled at her statement as she continued, “Is that even possible?”

Jackie sighed as she looked away at the trees and crossed her arms. “No, I miss Jeff more. Fuck. I miss his smell and…” Jackie rants as Shauna walks away. You felt the hairs on your neck standing up when you remembered hiding everything from Jackie. She didn’t do anything wrong. You stand there at full attention to Jackie’s words to not let her notice how Shauna looked hurt, “the way he rubbed his wrist with his thumb when we were holding hands, and I even miss his stupid Ace Vantura impressions.”

You rub Jackie’s arm with comforting eyes. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I know you must miss him, " you say as Jackie starts to follow Shauna down the trail. Jackie smiles back to you, understanding and loving the attention you are giving her.

“He must be losing his mind right now. Did I tell you guys he said he loved me before we left?” Jackie says as she looks back to you, and you couldn’t help but express your shock. She just couldn’t tell your shock wasn’t because of the confession. Shauna stops dead in her tracks and turns to look at Jackie. “No, you didn’t,” Shauna replies evenly.

“Did you tell him you loved him back?” You asked quickly to Jackie.

“Yeah. Yeah. I-I didn’t say it back, and… I should have.” Jackie says, keeping her arms crossed. She looks down at the forest floor with a mix of emotions. For a moment, all of you pause the conversation to only hear the crowing in the distance.

“I’m sure he knows how you feel.” Shauna says as she starts to walk on the path, but she stops and says, “Wait. Do you.. Love him?”

You paused beside Jackie with wide eyes, almost wanting to scream at Shauna to shut up, as Jackie looks at Shauna for a moment as Shauna continues, “I just thought that-”

“I don’t know. I-I just shouldn’t have made him wait, that is all. I just got so caught up in making everything perfect, and now, if we die out here, someone else will be his first, and I’m-”

As Jackie was ranting, Shauna stopped to lean against a tree out of exhaustion. She held her stomach as she took a deep breath. You and Jackie quickly came to her side, concerned. “Shauna?” You yelped as you grabbed her shoulder.

“Whoa. Hey, hey, hey. You okay?” Jackie says as she circles the two of you to be in front of Shauna.

Shauna pushes a hair behind her ear and says weakly, “Yeah. I’m just hungry.”

Jackie quickly reaches into her pocket to pull out her last piece of fish jerky and says to Shauna, “Oh, here. Take this.”

“It’s your last piece, I-” Shauna tries to say, as you pull out your last piece of jerky.

“You need it more than me. Here,” Jackie says as she smiles at Shauna to take the food. She doesn’t understand how much truth is in her words. You were sweating bullets at the many opportunities to tell Jackie come up in your face, and you had to resist telling her that Shauna is pregnant.

“Just take it.” You softly push as you look deeply into Shauna’s eyes.

Shauna nods weakly and says, “Thank you.” She takes two pieces and eats them.

You quickly turn to Jackie to lighten the mood, “By the way, if he has his first time with someone else, it doesn’t change you were his first love. And sex is so overblown!”

Jackie chuckles and nods her head. “Yeah, I am. He will just have to think about me when he sleeps with whatever skank you took my place.” She snorted at her joke.

You chuckle with her as you refuse to look at Shauna, knowing this hurts her. " Yeah, you were the most interesting part about Jeff, anyway.”

You all giggle at that joke as you feel Jackie nudge you, “How do you know sex is overblown, huh?”

You blush as you shake your head, turning to walk away. “I may have been fingered before, but it doesn’t count!”

Jackie gasps and slaps Shauna’s arm for attention. She quickly perks up to follow you to get more. “It does, too! I told you when Jeff did!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now!” You giggle with blush on your cheeks, trying to run away from your two friends who are now pestering you for more information.

You sit beside Jackie, holding her hand gently as you paint pink on her fingernails. “Do you even think that’s true?” Jackie asks Mari, besides her, between the legs of Akiliah, who was braiding her hair.

You snicker as you add, “I don’t think she is a prostitute if that is what you're asking, Jackie.”

“I mean, you can’t not be a prostitute if you're offering blowies for 20 dollars.” With a snort, Jackie says Mari and Akiliah giggling at the rumor about Jessica Lowa.

“Ooohh!” The girls who circle the fire are sent to Natalie and Travis when they return. The whole cabin ground was giggling and whistling over to the couple; you bit your lip as you focused on not painting on Jackie’s cuticles.

“Natalie and Travis sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-” Laura Lee was teasing with a playful smirk. You feel yourself have to hold in a small gasp from your lips as you try to stop the blurring of your eyes from tears. Dear god, you didn’t need them being together rubbed into your face.

Lottie giggles and shakes her head at Laura, “I think they were doing more than kissing.”

You couldn’t help but agree. You wanted to cry.

Mari calls out from the porch, “Hey, Nat, how exactly are you and Flex hunting for out there anyways?”

“I hear it’s beaver season!” Van cuts in with a joke, making you all snicker.

“Maybe a condom.” You giggle yourself at Akilah’s little joke. You push her knee to approve the joke, and she sends you a beaming smile at the praise.

“Ah! Sit and spin, assholes.” Natalie says as she flips off the group, turning for everyone to see it sent their way. When you finish her picky finger, Jackie pulls her hand from your hold, and you look up to see her frowning deeply in anger.

“Is this why we don’t have any food? ‘Cause you been too busy running for mayor of Pound city.” Jackie cuts into the laughs towards Natalie. You look at Jackie and back to Natalie, feeling the tension building.

“Uh, go fuck yourself.” Natalie retorts.

“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Nat’s always down for a good time, right?” Jackie says with a tilt of her head. She steps down the steps slowly, coming closer. Everyone pauses what they are doing to see what Jackie is going to say, listening to every word.

“I can’t magically conjure a deer, Jackie.” Natalie says and then points her finger at her for a second, storming closer to jackie herself “But keep talking your shit, I’ll find something to shoot.”

“Oh. Wow. Oh, you’re so tough.” Jackie mocked as she came into Natalie’s face. “I’m not scared of you, burnout.”

“No.” Natalie stares daggers into Jackie’s eyes and says, “You’re jealous. ‘Cause your an uptight, prudish little bitch.”

Taissa runs between the two and pushes Natalie off of Jackie. “Hey! Knock it off!” she says, turning to Jackie, “Both of you.”

The two girls turn their backs and walk away, Jackie sending a middle finger to Natalie as she storms off.

“Fuck that bitch.” Jackie huffs as she passes you to get into the cabin. You just sit there in shock.

You wanted to cry. Natalie wanted Travis and was showing off her claim to him.

You look to your side to see Van whispering to Taissa, Van’s blue eyes look at yours as you get off the porch step to check on Jackie.

‘21

You: I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I wanted to know if you want to go to the reunion together. You: I also got great news from my publishing house and wanted to celebrate with you sometime. 😊 Van: I don’t think I can go to the reunion. Van: I’m happy to hear about that! Please call me when you can to talk more about this because I can’t stand texting. Van: 3====D You: Okay! I would have called if I wasn’t in a situation! It’s all good. You: I’ll come by after the Reunion. They wanted me to give my graduation speech, which I never got to give. I wanted to give you the chance to make fun of me. Van: I would never.

When you came back inside Jackie’s parents' house, you were scolded by Mrs. Taylor about your smoking, which Jeff and Mr. Taylor only added to. You smiled and apologised on your way out to go to the bathroom real quick, even with Shauna’s pleading eyes for you to stay with her. You sat on the toilet as you typed a text to your ex-fiance, now a long-distance friend, and you sighed as you felt yourself smile. You knew you needed to speak to her about everything happening with the team, but you hadn’t found the time or the mind to do so. You miss her and want to tell her about your life again, even with how things ended the last time you were together. It felt like something within you was looking for Van’s comfort and her presence.

You leave the small bathroom across from the main bedroom and enter the hallway, only to find Shauna standing outside Jackie’s room. The door closing behind you makes Shauna turn to the side to meet your eyes. The two of you share a quiet sorrow this morning. She returns to Jackie’s bedroom and walks into it, leaving you alone in the hallway.

As you reach the white doorway, you slowly step down the hall with a heavy heart. Leaning on the door frame, you look on as Shauna silently stares at the bed. The room was untouched from the day you all left. The white silk of her bed and curtains were meticulously cleaned and steamed, the pink carpet was spotless of any dirt or life, and her vanity was still messily scattered from her rushed packing of her makeup the day of the trip. It felt like her room was stopped in time and space, like the ghost of the homecoming queen was still living there.

As you shyly walked into the room, you felt like a teenager. It made you think of a good memory of one of the many sleepovers you shared. Shauna went into her purse and started to text someone on the other end. You assumed it was Callie as you slowly came over to the end of the bed in the center of the room.

You’re parents were very strict about you going to your friends' houses when you were a child, and they never let you have a sleepover until you were 12 years old. It didn’t matter how many camping trips you went on with Shauna, Jackie, and your parents. They didn’t like the idea of you sleeping away from them. It didn’t matter how much they knew Shauna’s parents or Jackie’s, and they didn’t let you stay longer than 9 pm. It took you, Shauna, and Jackie begging your mother for weeks for her to finally agree that you were to sleepover at Jackie’s at her birthday party, rules being you had to call your mother when you were going to bed and when you woke up to pick you up as soon as possible. A smile comes to your lips as you remember your first time sleeping over at Jackie’s house.

“You remember when we finally had a sleepover with you guys?” you ask quietly as you look at Shauna. She was now looking at the small dairy you both bought after you were rescued to make cute favorite pages of things you knew Jackie would have loved if she was still around.

“Yeah,” Shauna chuckles as she looks up from the pages. “We finally won. We've got to all be together finally…”

You felt sad at the memory, feeling that innocence and triumph were the highlights of your childhood. You felt yourself almost melt into the memories as a chill crept up your spine.

“Okay, read it back to me.” The sweet sound of Jackie’s was heard behind you. She was young, with pigtails on her crown. Her body was petite and still childish, and she looked on at a younger version of you and Shauna.

You had turned your head to the scene. You smiled as you saw your chubby self giggling into her fist as she tried to let Shauna speak. “Okay, so I’ll go. You’re Jeff, right?” And then he will nod or whatever, and then I’ll say, “Your friend Randy told me that you asked him to ask me to ask Jackie if she likes you.” Shauna excitedly reads off the notebook paper, her small finger moving along with the words.

12 year old Jackie blushes as she shakes her head a little, “Just don’t say that I told you that I like him. I don’t want him to think that I’ve been, like, pining over him or whatever.”

You saw your younger self giggle harder in her hands, blushing at the idea of romance, as you said, “I bet you have been writing little doodles about him for weeks now.”

Jackie giggles and pushes your shoulder, pushing you back to the pillows. “Shut up, (y/n). It’s not like you don’t pine over Joshua!”

“Stop it!” Your younger self squeals with Jackie, grabbing her hands to hold yourself up with giggles. You never remember how happy you were as a kid. You smile at the scene as you feel Shauna’s arm brush against your own. She is looking on at the bed as you were.

“What if he says yes?” Shauna asks Jackie as she holds her tassel pen.

Jackie straightened her back, “Then just be like, “Okay, Cool… But definitely don’t act like you know I like him back.”

“Wait. Do you, like, like like him?” Shauna asks Jackie with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Jackie, why didn’t you tell me?”

All your younger selves giggle and are excited. You feel a tear come down your cheek, and your hand comes up to wipe it. You look away for a moment to look at the smudge of black makeup on your fingers.

“It’s not your fault,” Jackie says as she sits alone on the bed. She looks at you with her big innocent eyes and looks at you with pity for a moment. “What happened.” She added, to explain what she was talking about.

“I know,” Shauna says beside you. You look to her quietly as you realize she was seeing everything you were seeing, too. It was real or not real. It didn’t matter.

“Actually, you don’t know.” Jackie retorts with a pout on her lips, mocking. “It’s totally your fault. It’s your fault for not stopping it, (Y/n).” She looks to you with a smile and back to Shauna.

Your lip quivered as you looked at her round face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have stayed with you that night.” You whisper to the phantom.

“But we were kids. And it was awful.” Jackie says again, more calmly and sweetly. A mood swings with each word the phantom has.

“Why are you here?” Shauna asks softly.

“Why are you here?” Jackie whispers back with a small smirk growing on her lips.

You both look at the bed and whisper together in the bedroom, so you don’t notice when Jeff enters the doorframe. “Where have you guys been?” he says softly as he pauses at the doorframe, unable to walk through. “You left me all alone down there.”

Shauna sighs softly as she looks at her husband, and you quickly try to fix your black makeup. You quickly lie: “Sorry, Jeff. The door was open, and I got emotional. I needed a moment. Sorry I stole your wife.”

You felt a sting of guilt when you knew what you said was truer than he knew.

Jeff nods his head and smiles softly. “It’s okay. Shauna, if you wanna go, we can go.”

Shauna doesn’t react to his words or your lies. She walks past him and says, “We just have to make it through dessert.”

“To Jackie, whose light shone too bright ever to be extinguished from our memories. Happy Birthday, baby.” Mrs. Taylor roasted, you all held up refilled mimosas. You smiled widely as you looked at her.

“Happy birthday.” Mr. Taylor agreed as he momentarily looked up to the ceiling and sipped.

“Cheers.”

“Happy birthday, Jackie!” You say with a cheerful smile as you sip your drink, you don’t stop yourself from drinking it all in one go. “To Jackie.” Shauna adds,

“We’re reading Elena Ferrante in our book club, and it reminds me so much of you girls.” Mrs. Taylor says as you take a piece of cake.

You nod as you push a hair behind your ear, “Oh! Which one? Lost daughter, Days of abandonment?

“My Brilliant Friend.” She beams happily and looks at you as if you were the smartest person she has ever met. You feel yourself pinch a smile back at the mention of the book. Of course, she would think of Jackie when reading that book. “It can’t always have been easy for you, Shauna. Jackie was just so… gifted. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must’ve been, for both of you, to always comparing yourselves to someone so beautiful and smart. ” Mrs. Taylor ranted as she ended, her emotions painting brightly in grief.

You wanted to scream. You never knew why there was so much animosity toward Shauna, but you knew that at some level, everyone saw the marriage as one Shauna stole from Jackie. Shauna was living the life Jackie would have had if she had survived.

“Shauna got into Brown.” Jeff defends with a slight move of his hand. He was over this whole facade. “She’s, uh, the smartest person I’ve ever met. Are-are you a genius?” Jeff turns his head to Shauna to ask. You smile lightly as you eat more of the cake, letting everything happen before you.

Shauna is stunned to silence as she opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Jeff asks again, “Did you ever take one of those tests? You should take one of those.”

“I haven’t.” Shauna bashfully looks down, quiet, uncomfortable with everything. You couldn’t help but feel the same.

“Shauna and I were sleeping together when Jackie and I were a couple.” Jeff blurted out to the old couple. You choke on your mimosa as you try to sit up straighter at the news; a little juice falls on your shirt. There was silence at the table as Mr. and Mrs. Taylor looked on with horror. You couldn’t help but look at Jeff with wide eyes. “Which is, obviously, you know, a shitty thing. But there it is.”

Mrs. Taylor sends a look to Mr. Taylor as ‘I told you so’ as you put down your drink. You wanted another cigarette.

“Because the truth is that Jackie was amazing.” Jeff sighs as he looks at the couple, “But so is my damn wife. And she still is. And I may have been an Idiot then, but I was smart enough to see that.” Jeff looks around the table, and for a moment, your eyes lock together, and you give him a nod of approval. He did right by Shauna, defending her but exposing that was wild.

“And this really is the best Tuna Quiche I’ve ever tasted, Mrs. Taylor.” He added as he toasted to Mrs. Taylor.

You just sit still in your seat for a moment as you find your words: “I found out in the wilderness.” You say as you look at the Taylors. As you spoke, you could see shock written on their faces, adding to this scandal. “It was heartbreaking, but even then, I knew it was them being stupid and not understanding the gravity of how it would hurt Jackie.” You confess as you frown for the first time since being here.

You sigh as you look up to the couple. “Jackie was our best friend. She drank Rum milk punch at parties, and stole your Valium for the trip, and she used to talk about how my arms were chucky. She wasn’t perfect, and I don’t want to remember her that way. She was Jackie. Our Jackie. No amount of years or regrets will change that. She would be happy knowing we all still come together for her birthday; she was humble enough for that.”

You smile and raise your glass again. After your speech, the couple smiles weakly as they agree, and Shauna and Jeff go along.

‘96

After comforting Jackie and trying to bite your tongue about Natalie, you decided you needed to let yourself vent for a moment. With a growl in your stomach, you crawl up the stairs to the attic, logging your emotional day. Exposing every secret, every dirty detail of your night with Natalie, how you’ll go to hell for lying to Jackie for so long. You cuddled in your blankets and didn’t look up when Taissa approached the attic.

She started to unbutton her shirt without even greeting you and paused for a moment. Then, she approached your shared pile of clothes and grabbed Shauna’s white push-up bra.

“Um- Where’s Shauna?” Taissa snaps to you with a grave tone. You turn your head to her as you put down your journal. You don’t understand why the importance right now. You then look at the bra in her hand at the rough cut on the inseam; the wire was ripped out.

You shoot up from your bed, “Oh my god! Shauna!” as you run out of the attic. Taissa is right behind you as you stumble out off the ladder. Once your feet find ground, Taissa slides down the ladder and rushes past you against all your might. She was on the actual soccer team; she ran outside.

Misty spun around to you while holding a cup of ‘medicine’ for Ben. She asked you with furrowed eyebrows, “(Y/n), everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Misty!” You dismissed her as you moved her out of your way, softly, as she stared at the back of your head when you stormed outside.

You come to the door when Taissa grabbed Lottie’s shoulders and asked, “Lottie, have you seen Shauna?”

“Uh…”

“Lottie, have you?!” Taissa pressed harder as you approached the girls, who were already slightly out of breath.

“I think she went that way. Wait! Uh…!” Lottie stops as she looks concerned at Taissa. "Were- were you outside last night eating dirt?”

You paused as you looked at Taissa with wide eyes. The night with dirt under her nails comes to mind.

“What the actual fuck! No!” Taissa hisses as she turns around to run into the woods to find Shauna.

Lottie grabs your arm before you can follow behind her, “Is everything okay?”

You push her hand off as gently as you can as you say, “No, stay here! Don’t tell anyone about this!”

You pull away from her completely, noticing how concerned she was about you and feeling touched by it. Then, from a distance, you follow behind Taissa.

You weren’t in shape before the crash, and you had only lost weight from not having enough to eat. You weren’t doing your best as you panted through the greenery. You were still behind Taissa by a few feet.

It felt like hours as you ran behind Taissa. She stopped to look around momentarily, and you leaned your hands on your knees as you desperately tried to breathe. You saw a footprint in the moss that led to your left. You and Taissa continued as you found your breath again.

You two finally find her sitting against a tree with a blanket under her body. She laid out her supplies beside herself. “Shauna!” Taissa yells as she turns the corner of the tree. Shauna is lighting the end of the wire with your weed lighter.

Witch hazel. A underwire. A lighter. A rag.

You felt your lip curl into a sob when you looked at the broken girl on the forest floor. You couldn’t stomach that this is what you have. You were shaking when you came over to her side, Taissa the other, as you looked over her body.

“Okay. Okay. Um…” Taissa processes as she sees what is before her; she is trying to stay strong. “You’re not going to do this alone, okay?”

You nod your head as you kiss Shauna’s temple. “We’re going to be right here for you. I promise. I will always love you, Shauna.”

Shauna’s lip quivers as she rests her head in your chest. She cries heartily, and Taissa grabs the wire from her hand. She took in a deep breath as she positioned herself in between Shauna’s legs. “I’m going to help you,” Taissa says as she takes another big breath. “If you let me.”

Shauna pulls her head out from your breasts to look at Taissa, and she nods her head. She couldn’t muster up any words for this moment. “Okay.”

You rub her shoulders as you move behind her. You lean Shauna into your body as you hover over your back, putting your legs beside her body to stabilize her. All you could muster in comfort was a shaky, “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, Shauna.”

Taissa puts up her curls in a ponytail as she then leans down to perform an abortion as best she can. Shauna lets a shakily breath as she leans down on your body and slides to rest on your stomach. You pet her hair gently and feel fat tears roll down your cheeks. You look at every curve of Shauna’s face, fearing it will be the last time you see it. Shauna nods as Taissa places her hand on her thigh to move the wire inside. You couldn’t help but hiccup a sob as you say, “It’s okay.”

Shauna was panting as you tried to comfort her with your hand in her hair, your kisses to her temple, but she was panicking softly as Taissa inserted the underwire. You hid your eyes into Shauna’s shounder as it shook. You couldn’t watch this. “Okay. Keep going.” Shauna whimpers to Taissa below.

You slowly breathe as you rub her arms and hear Taissa sniffling back. She cries as she pushes the wire further in. Shauna shakes in pain as an agonizing moan comes from her mouth. She bites her fist as Taissa continues to press inward, and she whimpers, but it becomes hard to hear anymore. “I love you, Shauna. Everything will be okay.” You whisper into her ear.

Shauna sobs into her fist and yells, “Stop! Stop! Take it out! Take it out!”

Taissa takes it out as soon as she hears Shauna’s cries. She starts crying as Shauna sits up. “I can’t do it! I can't do it!” Shauna sobs.

You hug your arms around her shoulders as you kiss her temple. Taissa rushes over to hug Shauna’s waist, and Shauna clings onto both of you. “I know! I know. It’s okay.”

Shauna sobs into Taissa's chest, “I don’t want to die!”

You sob yourself as you hear her say that. You rub her back and say, “I won’t let you die, Shauna. You’re not going to die.”

“It’s okay.” Taissa cries as she hugs onto Shauna.

And for a moment in those woods, you all three cried like children in each other's arms. Then, you all quietly, without any words spoken, walk back to the cabin as the sun sets in the distance. You hold onto Shauna’s hand as you walk back and tuck her into bed as soon as you all return. You don’t even think about your journal that wasn’t on your bed anymore.

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic @gayandfairycore @modernvenuss

263 notes · View notes

jillslife · 10 months ago

Text

Having a rest day was a good idea - Jill feels better already when she wakes up the next morning.

She decides to plant the mysterious berry she fished up a few days ago... and wonders what will grow. Is there such a thing as hornberries?

On her usual forage run the birdies gift her another fish to sell - every simoleon counts!

On her way into town she runs into Rahul.... running? Rahul: "Hey, nice to see you!" Jill: "Hey Rahul! What are you doing here?"

Rahul: "I have the weekend off so I slept in today and did my morning run a little late..." Jill: "Oh, you do this every day?" Rahul: "Yeah. It's important to stay fit! Eat healthy, do some workouts... it does wonders for the mind, too." Jill: "So are you feeling better than yesterday?"

Rahul: "Lots. This was actually what I was fighting about with my mother.... she wants me to go into politics at university but I'd rather do something with fitness or nutrition...." Jill: "So she wants you to follow in her footsteps, take on the role of Mayor?"

Rahul: "Probably, but it's my life. And with the money I make with the deliveries, I can even pay for it on my own. That's what I told her yesterday. There's still some time to think about what I want, but I'm pretty sure by now." Jill: "When are you starting Uni?" Rahul: "If I get accepted to Foxbury for the Health and Fitness Science classes, I will start some time next year... I still need to save up some money."

Jill: "Well, it's good to know that you feel better today... I'm really sorry by the way, I haven't been around much... trying to save up that money for the lot." Rahul: "I understand. It's just... nevermind. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?" Jill: "Nothing much, probably the same as the last few days... fishing, foraging, selling stuff..."

Rahul: "It's Flower Fest tomorrow... how about you take the day off and come by, we could hang out."

Jill: "Oh, I almost forgot.... I love Flower Fest! I used to bake so many cookies with my mom when she was still at home..." Rahul: "We could do that if you want." Jill: "I would love that. I'll be around at noon, is that okay? Still need to take care of the plants..." Rahul: "Sounds perfect. See you tomorrow?" Jill: "Sure! Have a nice run"

Rahul [laughing]: "Thanks!"

#the sims 4 rags to riches #the sims 4 challenge #the sims 4 #the sims 4 cottage living #cottage living #rags to riches #ts4 legacy challenge #ts4 challenge #ts4 legacy #ts4 #runaway teen #jill castro #henford on bagley #simblr #chapter 1

0 notes

awisetoad · 11 months ago

Text

Ahahah thank you! I scrolled back and found that post, and after not having looked at it in quite a while I forgot all the stuff I touched on. I do have more to add tho

also tagging @error-reality-not-found bc they liked all the other posts

what did they eat: part 2, electric boogaloo

so last time I kind of considered their diet in terms of maybe what I'd consider a meal (protein + carbs, but little veg given the reaction in Rivendell to the salad lmao). It's unlikely, but there is a chance they are existing on MOSTLY meat because… I mean, I suppose you can kind of forage wild tubers and roots, tho it's not really feasible to be finding and digging them up in the quantities they'd need to meet what we'd consider a normal macro split every day while on the road.

honestly, its worth exploring that mostly-hunting-some-foraging line of inquiry anyway bc that's how so many fics seem to portray the start of the journey.

and boy howdy does this need a cut.

but first: it's far more likely that they'd set out from wherever packing some stuff along. I know I cited bombur baking bread, but idk if that's right. I did some investigating and it seems like prime candidates would've been, like, oats (or rice? and corn but I also dunno about harvest season so maybe its barley or farro or something idk), and possibly some kind of hardtack and/or bannock. probably some hard cheeses and fresh fruit for the first days, but not so much that it ends up spoiling. potatoes could keep, but again idk about seasonality and they are too heavy bc of the water weight compared to shit like oats & grains in terms of calories vs weight. you really can't forget the weight of it all, bc they'll need more ponies to carry whatever amount of provisions they choose to pack to supplement their hunting and gathering AND ponies to carry whatever the weight is of processed game after each hunting session ON TOP OF the ones they are riding AND however many are carrying their non-edible supplies (like the cook pot)

like, here's an example that's just a rough estimate but if everyone has 1 cup of (uncooked) oats a day that's like 300-some calories? I think that weighs 81 grams per person, so 1,215g per day which makes 36,450g across ~30 days, from Bree to Rivendell which makes… 80lbs/36kg of oatmeal I guess? and looks like that's about in the ballpark of what a pony can carry.

(I am staring right at Gloin and his coin purse lmfao)

personally I think packing provisions from the Shire/Bree is essential, but if they run out (or they are washed away down the river by a spooked pony, lookin' at you Book!canon) we might be looking at strictly hunting/foraging for a while.

for foraged stuff like tubers, mushrooms, and probably some stew-friendly greens for fiber that Ori definitely picks around… I don't know the feasibility of gathering enough to make what we'd consider a proper portion per person. I wouldn't be surprised if they threw in as much as they could find honestly just to stretch what else they have. nuts, seeds, berries I imagine would be more like road snacks/lunch during travel days (along with jerky, but we'll get to that) especially if they keep well during travel

also, I quick googled caloric needs for a backpacking trip and it looks like maybe somewhere around 4,000+ calories is the ballpark for hiking in mountainous terrain which does line up with my past-self's googling on that previous post, so. I'll stick to how I calculated game before. If we take a sec and explore that hunting-and-foraging-only diet per above (making them…keto?) the game requirements end up kind of doubling from my last post. We're looking at having to hunt about, what, 60,000 calories worth of meat per day for the group?

Which means, based on the numbers in my other post—

> They'd need to hunt 2 deer, or 2 boar, or 8 good-sized fish, or 8-14 ducks, or 20 rabbits, OR a whopping 82 squirrels* every single day.

jfc uH

holy shit.

ahem, anyway

the logistics of that fuckery

I inquired with some of my buds & some internet folks who have more hunting experience than I, and (as stated in my last post) there's no reasonable way you can hunt & trap at that scale effectively on a literal daily basis, especially if that means having to strike camp, ride 3-4 hours (to hit that 10/mi a day posited by that Atlas of Middle Earth map) set up camp again, and then the time it takes to then process & cook your kills.

not to mention, not every spot along their path will even make for good hunting at all. and while some days you score big, some days you don't score at all.

google tells me that prime hunting time for lots of kinds of game is around dawn and dusk as well, so there's no way people would be sleeping enough with that kind of schedule.

I maintain it's much more likely they're doing some hard hiking/riding for ~20 or so miles (what I googled of pony stamina) for several days until they find the best possible camp that will let them maximize their hunt/forage potential, and then they're at camp for several days just resupplying and letting the horses rest.

and like, obviously, they are mixing and matching game— so like, 1 deer and 1 boar, or 1 deer and 4 fish, or some combination of small game critters that adds up to the equivalent of 82 goddamn squirrels ahaha what the fuck

Which means, fishing, fishing nets, all manner of traps for all kinds of critters which all take time to set and check every day, kili and thorin become an arrow factory, several members of the company are working together to drive boar straight to bifur (the scene from outlander of the boar hunt was enlightening). The foraging folks foraging. Who is out there? The whole damn company, apparently.

You need to catch enough food for the days in camp as well as enough for the days of travel ahead. so, maybe 2 or 3 days moving, 2 or 3 in camp, we'll estimate 5 days worth of game at a time? which means you need to have some kind of home team to handle processing the utterly astronomical 410 squirrels you've somehow managed to bring home.

is it 410 squirrels or hundreds of beavers

(it does work out to ~5 per day, per person in the company. that's two squirrels for breakfast, one for lunch, two for dinner and your actual caloric needs are met. so… jfc hahaha)

(for the love of god someone check my math)

Honestly, most of the edible meat is probably getting turned into some kind of preserved thing for travel days— cold smoking jerky or sausage (given the free natural casings would be otherwise wasted). meat hand pies if Bombur has flour in the provisions? —and in-camp during these off days you're probably making use of the much faster to spoil, and less… uh… desirable? stuff. like the organs, like the bones, marrow, the kind of shit we grind up & call "mechanically separated"… use every part of those 410 squirrels, along with any foraged items that won't keep, know what I mean?

and keep in mind all this processing as well as preserving methods also require like labor and time so its not like you really get much of an "off" day. I did find several ways to smoke meat over open flame but they do require like 12 hours of tending a fire lol so more evidence they're staying put for a while in order to render their game useful over the next few travel days.

and then they get to do it again over the next 5 day stretch… and maybe even the next, resulting in the wholesale slaughter of 1,230 squirrels over 15 days.

assuming in this example that the provisions from Bree only lasted a fortnight until they ran out, spoiled, or were an unfortunate casualty of a spooked horse and they spent the other half of the 30-days-to-Rivendell systematically collapsing the ecosystem

so that's a lot of fucking food

uh, yeah.

I think there's basically two huge points to make that could explain why thorins company might not actually be a walking ecological disaster:

they weren't actually meeting their caloric needs consistently (or at all, lol— canonically they spend a lot of time starving). there's several reasons this could be. one: spooked pony forces them to exclusively rely on hunting game and foraging and they have a lot of days with little-to-no scores. two: pre-spooked pony, they rely far more heavily on provisions from the Shire/Bree and thus hundreds of squirrels are spared in the first half of the trip in favor of oatmeal & bread. three: dwarves' special canonical earth-bread tubers are shockingly nutritionally dense and prolific to forage along their entire route.

dwarves are hardy, and "hardiness" means they can survive for far, far longer than humans can without starving to death or even really losing muscle mass. thus generally they need wayyyyyy less calories than I calculated. I honestly think this is correct, and even tho this is kinda the opposite end of the spectrum from most of the arguments I just made about supply quantities, we also don't see the implications of this explored much at all either (and even if we do, it's usually not until we hit Mirkwood).

Honestly, it could make for interesting dynamics if you consider dwarves may not initially realize they need to feed their non-dwarf members far more often than they need to eat themselves unless they want to accidentally starve their romantic interest their tag alongs—

("wtf do you mean, second breakfast"

"I knew hobbits needed to eat more, but you need to eat how much?!?! I guess that ruins all of my carefully budgeted provisioning. no, no don't worry about it, it's fine, fuck, we may as well go get the damn handkerchiefs given we need to go back and buy many, many more pounds of oats and like… twelve more ponies."

"oh shit we only caught one fish to last all 15 of us the next several days but uhh we kind of have to give it Bilbo or he'll starve to death— it's ok, the rest of us can wait another 3 days of travel to eat we'll be fine haha *sobbing* and hopefully wizards can conjure their own calories who tf knows")

so how do they know how to do all that?

again, I know Tolkien's extended canon works paint the picture of dwarves mostly not getting involved with farming or animal husbandry, instead preferring a symbiotic relationship with Men's settlements in order to stock their larders. but, as I think I said before (I barely remember at this point lol) I think it's reasonable to assume that isn't the entire story:

tolkien was very elf-biased and dwarf culture was "secretive" (aka not explored as much); thus, we could assume that the people "recording" this information about dwarves did not have a complete understanding

we can assume that the much-preferred symbiotic lifestyle the dwarves of Erebor enjoyed due to its prime location as a center of trade in the north was straight-up deleted after the sacking of Erebor. life as they knew it fundamentally changed and they had to adapt as refugees, picking up skills they wouldn't have needed before

maybe Fundin took Balin and Dwalin cave-fishing as kids, or they learned it from lake-town. maybe boar is one kind of game found from erebor to ered luin, so bifur is in his element anywhere. maybe fili and kili learned to shoot and trap from rangers in eraidor. maybe bofur, being good at ropes and knots as a miner, can rig up a fishing net easily. or maybe that's dori, if you follow the Fanon that he's a weaver. maybe Ori's actually really fucking accurate with that sling— look up native sling hunting on YouTube.

I do think that Gloin, being the one seemingly bankrolling the expedition along with maybe Balin, would be responsible for calculating, provisioning, and budgeting for the journey from Ered Luin, and acquiring ponies somewhere in the Shire, and then provisioning once again in Bree for the next stretch.

But also consider that they likely had a real plan for that next stretch and resupply point (that doesn't involve elves) that didn't end up working out given that more than a few unfortunate events happened (spooked pony, trolls, elves, realizing they had a deadline at all lmfao). Like. Where were they going next, before the trolls fucked everything up? around thru dunland? were they going to resupply originally in Rohan? or is there a settlement other than Beorn's they might've aimed for? Who knows.

endnotes

I think this sufficiently paints a vivid picture of the absurd amount of planning, effort, time, cost, supplies, and other various considerations that need to be done for this kind of excursion, and how crazy it is that we just gloss right tf over it ahahah

also the timeline for thorin meeting Gandalf, returning to ered luin, provisioning, traveling to a meeting in spaghetti-land, and then to hobbiton is bunk and I have another ted talk about that

and about bed rolls.

I'm not gonna link stuff bc it'd be too much, but my sources are shit like a billion hours of bushcraft camping/cooking videos, act/pct thru hike videos, the lewis and clark expedition records, Townsends and tasting history and Sohla's history food show on YouTube, the original Native American diet & pemmican, early human hunter-gatherer societies, fandabi dozi on YouTube, wagon trail cowboy shit, how to feed the crew of a 17th century ship while at sea, primitive food preparation pre-refrigeration, how medieval armies razed the countryside while marching to war, and personal real-life experience that includes but is not limited to: professional catering experience, feeding my 30-person extended family for every holiday growing up, feeding many bachelorette and stag parties for more than a few days bc I'm in my wedding attendance era.

anyway thank you for coming to my dissertation, apparently ted talk, happy to answer q's or expound on anything that might be unclear :)

*(it's possible it's even more than 82 squirrels/day because I have no idea if my past-self took Bilbo and Gandalf into account so I might be off by 2 entire people's worth of food, and fuck if I am going to attempt to figure out how many calories a hobbit needs. I'm not checking, I don't think I care to discover whether we have our first entries to eriador's endangered species list)

also fucking 82 squirrels that will literally never not be funny I am wheezing and crying right now in real life, good god

Not one of my normal posts, but:

Who do you think would go hunting for the Company during their travel to Erebor?

Would it be Dwalin?

Bifur?

Would Kili and Fili go out to hunt for the food?

Or would it be Thorins purpose also, to provide for his companions as the leader of the adventure.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I’ve thought overnight about it, and:

I’ve got a lineup (from most often to least often)!!!

1. Gloin (we all know this man makes everything a completion, his game is the best, his wife is the best, his hair is the nicest copper color, his son is the best, we could go on and on) he prides himself on the kill he makes for the company.

2. Bifur I cannot use words to describe how vicious yet clean this dwarrow is with his kills. When Bifur kills an animal, it is left so perfectly, it looks like it’s alive, perfect for cooking and using every bit of the body they need

3. Suprisingly is Dwalin! We know our warrior is a bit rough around the edges all over, but he cares for his fellow kin in a subtle way, such as making sure they eat so they can “Put that food to good use and use your brain for once!”

4. Fili and Kili (cuz they a duo) Kili normally does the killing of Deer and such with his arrow, while Fili will take down physically with a dagger, Fili normally goes for the neck right away, Kili goes for the lungs of what he shoots at when hunting

121 notes · View notes

mochie85 · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do one were for some reason, Loki and the reader have to do manual labor (like chop wood, milk a cow, using a hand pump and carrying buckets of water, stuff like that) and by the trope of ignorant alien boyfriend reader makes fun of him (in a good way) and is fluff and have some mutual pining

Foraged

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

A/N: Did I do some research while writing this fic? Absolutely. Did that research include watching Bradley.Thor on TikTok? Yes. And No, the irony was not lost on me. 🤣 I hope you like this Nonny! 🥰 Thank you for the request. Keep them coming.

Word Count: Almost 2k Warnings: Fluff Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The weather was sublime. The warm afternoon breeze blew the fragrance of the wildflowers all around you. The serene view was marred only by the sound of complaints and grumbles from the god behind you.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck out here.” He mumbled to himself.

“Oh, come on Loki. It’s not so bad.” You smiled at him. He looked at you, the sun highlighting your silhouette in front of him. The only saving grace from this mission was that he got to do it with you.

“The sooner I can get back to modern civilization, the better.” He croaked.

You two were in an isolated masia in the middle of Catalonia. A safe house that was set aside for agents, and Bruce – whenever he needed his space to calm down. You spotted a few cows grazing along the western slope. And there were chickens in a large coop in the back of the house. You didn’t know if someone came to maintain the livestock, or if they were wild and set free from a time when this was used as an actual farm.

As stocked as the masia was, everything was either expired or inoperable. The faucets had run dry. The electricity was suspicious, to say the least. It seemed almost forgotten and in disarray by the time the two of you arrived.

“I sent the signal. The team should be intercepting it soon and then they can collect us. But until then, let’s see if we can find something to eat. Who knows how long we’ll be here.” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Do you think you can chop wood for the fireplace while I forage?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Will you be ok, by yourself?” he asked anxiously.

“Awe. Are you worried about me?” you teased. “I’ll be fine. I should go make use of the daylight before the sun sets.” You staggered off, giving him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

You didn’t wander far. Only a minute into the sparse woods surrounding the ranch, looking above for any type of fruit you can gather. You found some edible mushrooms and berries. You were lucky to spot a pear tree with ripe fruit.

Birds sang from the trees and small woodland creatures scurried about the medieval plants. You didn’t want to try your luck at hunting. But you did hear a stream nearby. Maybe you can go fishing - if your stay ends up being longer than expected.

As you came back around the clearing, you heard the deep thud of wood falling. And the low growl of Loki’s voice. You watched as Loki raised his arms to swing an ax down. Bringing a cutting blow to the poor log below him.

You almost dropped the supplies you were carrying at the sight of his bare chest exposed in the sunlight. Each line, defined and strong, rippled as he reached for a new piece of wood and placed it on the chopping block. You would’ve never known the distinction of his muscles, the strength those arms had, under the many layers he usually wears.

His grunts and panting timed with the rhythm of his swing. He had a hard time with one particular log, “Come on. Open for me.” He brought the ax down with formidable grace and split that stubborn log into two. “Atta girl.”

You took a deep breath and hid behind a tree. You bit down on your lip to keep from screaming as you closed your eyes and prayed to any higher power that will listen to you. Gods, save me from these wicked thoughts. Calm my nerves before I wreck this man and make a fool outta myself.

“What are you doing?” Loki said as if he were answering your prayers.

You screamed at the surprise appearance of Loki next to you. The pears you had in your arms fell to the ground. You noticed that he had put his shirt back on. Your eyes raked him once over.

“Nothing. I was just taking a break.” You lied. Loki bent down and helped you gather the berries and fruits that had fallen.

“You got quite a haul here.” He noted. Walking in step with you back to the house.

“Yup. Yeah, and you managed to get a decent amount of wood for the fireplace, I see.”

“Do you think that pump over there by the side of the house might work?”

“If the well isn’t dried up. Let’s see.” Loki handed you the fruit he had picked up and sauntered over to examine the water pump.

Inside the house, you dropped your foraged goods on the kitchen counter. You found large tin buckets by the entrance and brought them outside to help Loki.

The pump had gone dry. Loki flushed the handle repeatedly getting no luck. You stepped in to help, grabbing the handle. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.” He said as he peered into the spout.

“I wouldn’t put my face…” It was too late. The water had decided then to make its appearance and shot straight across towards Loki’s face, drenching him. A look of shock and a gasp tore through you as you covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.

Loki stood up slowly, his lips thinning in anger. His finger held up, warning you not to make a sound. “Don’t you dare say a word!” Loki snarled. Your amusement peeled away at his resolve as he listened to your melodic laughter.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Please, don’t -” but you couldn’t stop laughing anyway as he flailed his hands in your direction. Small drops of water flicking you wet.

Loki lifted the hem of his soaked shirt up and over his head. The lean muscles you spied on earlier making a full appearance. His lithe shoulders were wet from the water. Loki took that same shirt and wiped his face, his arms, and all along his chest. You watched him, quietly leaning on the pump.

“Enjoying the view?” he said realizing he had an audience. He threw his shirt at your face.

A heady mix of his scent and cologne flooded your senses. You hoped that his shirt hid the dark blush covering your face. “And so what if I am?”

Loki only shook his head, hiding the smile that formed. “Move over, you dangerous creature, and let me pump. Hold the buckets,” he instructed.

“I’m sorry for laughing.” You said. Loki only rolled his eyes. His embarrassment already gone after seeing your suggestive stare.

He kept his shirt off as he brought the full buckets inside the house.

Later that night, the both of you had sat down, knee to knee, in front of a roaring fireplace. Eating all the things the two of you had gathered.

Loki had ventured out with you after your water fiasco, a basket in hand, to the chicken coop and tried to pilfer some eggs. He had no such luck as the hens kept trying to peck his hand away. You were lucky to grab some with gentle coaxing and a hypnotizing trick your grandmother taught you.

“Do you think you’ll have better luck with the cows?” you asked slightly teasing.

“Can you even wrangle one?” he asked doubtfully. You took that as a challenge and set forth to corral the nearest cow you could find.

Calming her, soothing her, you whispered to Loki, “Keep her occupied and calm while I collect her milk.”

“How do you propose I do that?” he asked aloud, wide-eyed.

“Shh. Just stroke her head. Talk to her.” You made your way behind her slowly. Patting her along the way till you were able to bend down with a bucket and start milking.

“Hello…ma’am,” Loki said with gawkiness, patting her on her head. You started to giggle. His awkwardness was endearing.

You laughed about it that night over dinner. You had cooked the mushrooms and made sunny-side eggs with butter churned from the milk you extracted. Loki’s seidr helped tremendously and saved you both from aching elbows and arms. You were always in awe whenever he used his magic.

And for dessert, berries with pears.

“This is delicious, darling.” He commented. “I’m so glad to have been stuck with someone as skillful and clever.” You flushed at his comment. “Tony could never.”

That’s when you started laughing. “No, he couldn’t.”

“Where did you learn such skill?” he asked.

“I grew up on a vineyard with my grandparents. My grandfather was a vintner and sold locally. He taught me a little bit about plants and foraging. But my grandmother loved animals. She kept a few chickens and goats. A cow name Lulubelle.” You sighed at the memory. “I miss them terribly.”

Loki stared at you. He felt awed that you would share such a precious memory with him. “What about you? Where’d you learn to chop wood?” you asked, remembering the scene from earlier today, heat crawling up your spine.

“Is that so surprising? For a prince to know his way around an ax?”

“Honestly. Yes. I didn’t picture you using anything other than your seidr.” He laughed at your candidness.

“It was part of training, to be with the Einherjar. You needed to be able to survive and build a make-shift shelter. Living off the land. You’d never know what kind of situation or planet you’d find yourself in.”

You nodded in understanding.

“It was one of the ways a fellow soldier could help the regiment overall. At times, Thor would always show off and split the wood with his bare hands.” Loki shook his head as he rolled his eyes. You laughed at the thought of Thor trying to impress his fellow troops.

Loki looked up at the sound of your laughter. He loved the musical tone it had. He loved the fact that he could make you sound like that. His errant thoughts ran away from him and he started to wonder what other sounds he could persuade you to make.

As if you could read his thoughts, his teasing eyes, and his inviting smile, you slowed your laughter to a quiet giggle. Turning away to hide your face, Loki grabbed your chin to stop you.

He leaned in close, brushing his lips on yours. His breath was sweet from the berries he just consumed. He paused for only a second, waiting for you to turn or to stop him. When you didn’t, he pressed further. Enveloping your lips fully in his. As you drew in his top lip, you ran your tongue along the length of it, hearing him whimper.

He pulled you closer to him, sitting on his lap. He placed your thighs on either side of his strong hips. Your hands delighted in the taut muscles under his shirt. Finally being able to touch what you glimpsed earlier.

Static from the radio reached both your ears. Steve’s warm voice echoed through the receiver. You pulled away to reach for it, but Loki held you firmly in place and pulled your chin back towards his lips.

He devoured you.

Loki ignored the transmit as if he knew he didn’t have much time left.

“Signal received. I hope you both are ok. The extraction team will be there in a couple of hours.”

“Well, darling. We don’t have much time left together. What would you like to do?” Loki said panting on your lips.

You kissed him back with as much fervor and proceeded to lift his shirt.

All Taglist:

@alexs1200 @britishserpent @huntress-artemiss @mishief2sarawr @user13cabs @lokiprompts @lokisninerealsms @lokisgoodgirl

#request #requests are open #answered #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #mcu #marvel fanfic #loki fandom #lovely readers #anonymous #mutual pining

312 notes · View notes

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

Photo

Words: 8,347 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, attempted sexual assault, discussions of trauma, typical TWD A/N: This is Part 1 of the new miniseries! This should be 2 or 3 parts total, and it's kind of intense and a bit dark at certain points so heed the warnings ya'll. Summary: Y/N is considered quiet, standoffish, and even a bit odd by the group, but Daryl knows how much she does around camp to care for everyone. After a traumatic incident while searching for Sophia, Daryl starts to discover why Y/N is the way she is.

Your name: submit What is this?

The group was all sitting around the low campfire, eating some breakfast. The two Greene girls came out with baskets in hand. Beth approached Rick and held hers out. “We have some more eggs for you all. Our hens lay more than we can eat,” she said.

Rick gratefully accepted them with an earnest look and a nod. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“And some potatoes,” Maggie offered. Lori grabbed her basket.

“Really, you all are being so kind. If there’s anything we can do to help around the place just let us know,” she said.

Beth was looking off into the distance at you sitting alone, away from the group, your back to the farmstead. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked, without really thinking.

“Beth!” Maggie scolded her.

“Well, I—I just mean she never eats with ya’ll. She seems like she’s always off on her own,” Beth explained, a little sheepish from her sister’s scolding.

The rest of the group was looking your direction now too, many of them asking the same questions in their minds.

“C’mon, now. That’s enough,” Maggie said. “Daddy needs help with the laundry.”

The group watched them head back to the farmhouse and Shane was the next one to break the silence. “It’s a fair question,” he said, chuckling to himself wryly, glancing back over his shoulder at you before leaning in to grab another helping of breakfast. “She hasn’t exactly meshed into the fabric of the group, has she?”

“Shane, give it a rest,” Lori said sternly.

“No offense meant but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say more than two words at a time,” Andrea said. “You can’t pretend like there isn’t something… odd there.”

Dale hummed. “Not that it’s really our business, but she’s never said anything about what happened to her before we found her out by the quarry. I’ve tried to ask her about her family, what she used to do before all this,” he shrugged vaguely. “Never got a thing out of her. That’s her right if she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it does seem a little strange.”

“That’s all I’m sayin’,” Shane said. “Somethin’ weird with that girl,” he trailed off.

Daryl stood up, annoyed. “Ya’ll are a buncha busy body gossips. If ya’d open your damn eyes for two seconds you’d realize she does more for this group than most of ya combined,” he growled. “She gathered that wood burnin’ in your fire right there. Them mushrooms mixed in with your damn eggs, who the hell ya think found those? Ya think they just magically appeared along with that stuff you’re usin’ to make tea every night?” He tossed his empty plate down on the grass and scoffed. “People who don’t trust easily usually got a damn good reason. ’M outta here.”

Shane watched him go in slight amusement, but most of the others looked a little ashamed of themselves. Daryl was right, of course. You did do a lot for the group. You just kept to yourself. You didn’t make a big show of bringing back some meat or foraged food. You never complained when Rick or Shane asked you to do something. You took more than your fair share of the night watches. And the fact that no one knew anything about your past, the fact that you didn’t talk much, didn’t need any explanation to Daryl. Based on his own background, he could guess there was a reason you were the way you were.

A short time later, Daryl noticed you gathering up your pack and grabbing your pistol and recurve bow. He wandered over as you were snapping your knife into its sheath at your hip. “Ya headin’ out to search again?” he asked softly. You and him seemed to be the only ones who hadn’t completely given up hope of finding Sophia. You simply nodded once.

“Alright,” Daryl drawled. “What’s your plan?” Asking a question that wasn’t a simple yes or no was always a toss-up with you. Half the time he’d get a short answer, half the time he wouldn’t.

“North side of the ridge,” you said. Your voice was always quiet and measured. The archer usually wished most people would talk less, but with you he always hoped to hear more. The little that you said was purposeful and deliberate. There was no idle bullshit.

He nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Alright. I’ll start by that creek and work along the south side. We can be close by in case either of us gets into trouble with walkers,” he said.

You simply nodded again and gave him a long thoughtful look. You did that a lot. Daryl had the feeling there was a lot going on behind your eyes, but you never spoke any of it. Surprisingly, he never felt nervous or uncomfortable when you looked at him like that. He just hoped someday maybe you’d open up a little bit more. The next moment you had turned and were heading toward the tree line already. Daryl scrambled to gather his gear and set off after you.

He could see your figure ahead, disappearing into the brush and soon he couldn’t see or hear you at all. He set out along the south side of the ridge as planned, picking his way along the creek, scrutinizing every inch of ground and hoping for a shoeprint.

Along the north side you were doing the same. You frequently knelt to examine some little scrape in the litter or soil and as you went you filled the little cloth bag you carried with edible and medicinal plants, berries, and fungi. The day wore on with no sign of the little girl and your frustration and fear grew even as the sun reached its apex in the sky and started to drift back down toward the western horizon.

You turned and started picking a new path back, heading toward the farm now rather than away. The deepening shadows made detecting print or trail more difficult but you kept your focus sharp on the ground as you moved, your bow slung over your shoulder next to your quiver.

You were becoming tired when you noticed an impression in the mud. You knelt, one knee of your jeans sinking into the damp soil. It was a boot print, but certainly not left by Sophia. You stared at the detail of the sole impression and your brow drew down low immediately. You have everyone’s shoe designs memorized. It wasn’t one you recognized. Your eyes drifted up and you could see a worn trail through the underbrush and more prints, heavy in the mud. There were at least three men who had left this trail, and they weren’t walkers. The path was straight ahead with no stagger and you could tell they were picking their way through the underbrush. You crouched and started to follow the trail. You needed to get eyes on these people. They were awfully close to the farm… Close enough, certainly, to see the smoke rising from the chimney and your fire circles.

You ghosted through the woods following the trail, moving as silently as you could. You’d been on the path for probably ten minutes when you could hear careless, noisy movement ahead. You must have caught up with them. Your heart hammering in your chest, you stayed low and crept closer. As you moved around a partially downed tree you could finally see the shapes of two men ahead. They were scruffy and filthy, clearly living on the move in the woods. You needed a closer look. You wanted to see what kinds of weapons they had on them. If you could scout out the group, you could determine whether something needed to be done about them or not.

As you tried to shift to another patch of concealing cover, you didn’t notice your bow catching on a low hanging dead branch. By the time you felt the resistance it was too late. The whole branch pulled loose with a loud snapping sound as it bent and cracked other dried branches and twigs on its way down. The two men you had been watching spun immediately and had weapons raised, rifles pointed in your direction. You were swearing under your breath and instantly on your feet aiming your pistol right back.

“Well, shit! What the hell do we have here?” one of the men asked, shifting a little to get a better look at you. “You alone out here, sweetheart?”

You fell an immediate swell of anger and dread rising up in your chest.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the second man asked, grinning and revealing teeth that were tobacco stained and yellow.

“What’s a fine little thing like you doing out here by yourself? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? There are all kinds of monsters in these woods,” the first man said, looking you up and down thoroughly. His companion laughed.

Fuck. This was bad. Why had you pushed your luck and crept in so closely? Now you were outnumbered and you knew there was at least one other man somewhere that you didn’t have eyes on.

Your chest was heaving with anxious breaths from the rush of adrenaline. The first man stepped a bit closer again and you responded by taking a measured step back, your pistol aimed squarely at his chest. Now what? Should you make a run for it? Would they shoot you? Based on the animalistic looks in their eyes you knew things could go very bad, very quickly if you couldn’t get the fuck out of there. Your mind was whirring.

Suddenly, you heard a stick crack behind you and you turned instinctively to see a third man now rushing you. He landed a fist into your jaw and your vision went black as you fell to the ground, holding onto your pistol as tightly as you could. The pain radiating from your jaw into your head was overwhelming. You blinked, willing the darkness to clear, but it lingered as you suddenly felt rough hands on you, rolling you over and ripping both your bow and rifle from your back.

You struggled blindly and managed to get yourself onto your back again as the darkness in your eyes faded instead to the outlines of blurred shapes. You could make out the shape of the man standing over you and you instinctively raised your pistol and squeezed several rounds which sounded like cracks of thunder in the close woods. You missed, the scene still foggy, and you immediately squeezed again and discharged another round but the man leapt down on you with a wild yell, knocking your arm to the side and pinning it into the ground. His weight pressed down on you and you were vaguely aware of an acrid smell filling your nostrils, causing bile to rise up in your throat. He pried your pistol from your hand and tossed it away into the brush.

You writhed beneath him, struggling to get clear of his grasp but he was much bigger than you and soon there was another set of hands on you. You were rolled onto your stomach again and your arms were pulled back behind you and held painfully tight.

“We got ourselves a wild cat here, boys!” one of the men laughed. “Get her up,” he ordered. You were pulled roughly onto your feet, still trying to blink away the remaining fuzziness in your eyes and struggling against your captor.

The first man, who seemed to be the leader, paced over, watching you with a look of satisfaction on his face as you still tried to fight loose. His rifle was now dropped casually by his side. He grabbed your chin cruelly and pulled it up so you looked right into his eyes. His fingers dug into the tender spot on your jaw where the other man had hit you. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured silkily.

You yanked your face from his grasp and he chuckled, glancing back at the other man standing just behind him. “She’s a good one,” he said, a sick smirk on his face. He looked back at you and his eyes roamed perversely over your body. “This’ll be fun.”

He turned violent and grabbed the front of your light cotton shirt, ripping it harshly down off one shoulder, tearing the breezy plaid fabric easily and popping off the first three buttons. The man holding you only tightened his grip. Your throat constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe. You felt like your heart was beating so hard that it would surely burst. You could feel everyone’s eyes on your newly bared skin. Next the leader withdrew a knife and pressed the point into the center of your chest just above your bra. You cringed at the feeling of the biting cold metal pricking your skin.

He stepped close into you and moved the knife up to your throat, pressing it to the side of your neck and drawing it lightly across your skin just enough to cut you. You winced and shut your eyes, trying to keep as still as possible with that blade to your throat and you soon felt a rivulet of warmth rolling down toward your collarbone. You opened your eyes as the knife left your throat and he slipped it under your exposed bra strap, rotating it and lifted up until the fabric started to separate along the sharp edge. Finally, it gave and the strap hung loosely down. He sucked in a hiss of breath through his teeth, his eyes hungry and crazed. “This will be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate. Then again… I like a woman with some fight in her,” he snarled. “Your choice.” His companions let out more appreciative laughter as fear twisted your stomach.

You felt yourself going numb. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel any pain anymore. You couldn’t feel the man’s hands pinning your arms back. You couldn’t feel the blood that was now running down your chest. Your eyes drifted to the leader’s cold, blue blade and then unfocused so the scene simply became a haze. And you suddenly realized that they hadn’t taken your knife. It was still in its sheath on your hip…

A short distance away, Daryl had been thinking that it was probably about time to call it a day and head back when he heard a series of loud gunshots. His body went rigid and he turned frantically, staring off into the brush. He strained his hearing to its limit. They’d definitely come from your direction. Abandoning any other thought, he sprung into motion, racing through the woods as fast as he could in the direction he thought the blasts had come from.

Back in camp, everyone else had heard the shots too. Shane turned and looked at Rick, his gaze intense.

“Were those gun shots?” Lori asked, fear in her voice.

“Yeah,” Rick said, rising to his feet and rushing to grab his gun from the stash of weapons in the RV. “Shane, T, Glenn, let’s go! The rest of you stay here!”

Hershel stepped out onto the porch and watched the group of men racing across the pasture toward the trees. He had a bad feeling in his gut. Maggie and Beth came out, the slamming screen door punctuating the piercing silence that fell after the shots.

Daryl smashed through the brush carelessly, his eyes scanning the ground for a trail, any trail, something to follow. Finally, his eyes locked on boot prints that were surely yours. He vaguely registered that there were much larger impressions in the soil too, several different boots much larger than yours. And they certainly weren’t from walkers.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath. He froze and scanned the thick greenery. He strained his hearing again, listening for some sound, anything, to give him an idea of what was happening. Please don’t let me be too late, he thought frantically. He took off again but more cautiously, following the tracks you had clearly also discovered. Probably what had led you right into something…

Rick and the others were well into the trees now but Shane stopped everyone. “Rick, what the hell are we doin’ man? We don’t have a clue where Y/N and Daryl are. We can’t just go blindly crashing through here or we’re gonna end up in a bad spot too.”

Rick’s eyes frantically whirred over the seemingly endless tree trunks.

“Wait—I saw Y/N’s map yesterday. She had the whole thing sectioned out into search areas,” Glenn said. “Most of them were already crossed off.”

“Well, which ones weren’t?” Shane urged, checking to make sure there was a round chambered in his gun.

“Uhh—” Glenn’s mind raced. “I think—I think by that ridge, straight north of here. But I can’t be sure,” he trailed off.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face. They all listened for any sound, but the woods were oppressively silent now. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath.

“It’s the best we got,” T gasped, out of breath from the frenetic dash from camp.

Rick nodded. “Alright. Then we head north. Keep your heads on a swivel and your eyes peeled for any sign of Y/N or Daryl.”

Daryl moved as swiftly along the trail as he could. Suddenly, he spotted something lying on top of the litter out of the corner of his eye. Your pistol. Daryl grabbed it and the muzzle was still warm. Clearly, you’d been the one to fire at least some of those shots. “Fuck. Fuck…” He tucked it into his waistband and moved more cautiously now. His heart was pounding and sweat was pouring down his forehead. His knuckles were white on his crossbow. He rounded a downed tree and froze when he saw a dark shape on the ground ahead. His heart dropped into his stomach. Please don’t let it be Y/N… He was almost paralyzed with fear but he forced himself to take another couple steps. As he rounded the brush and straightened up, he knew it wasn’t you but his apprehension didn’t evaporate. It was a large man, clearly dead, completely covered in blood. The hair on the back of Daryl’s neck suddenly stood on end and he spun around, his crossbow up to his eye, ready to fire. But he dropped it involuntarily as he took in the scene before him, his jaw dropping partially open and his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was seeing.

You were standing there in front of him trembling from head to toe, your hands out in front of you with your knife clutched in one like it was a lifeline. Daryl could easily see the shakiness in your hands. You were completely covered in blood. Your clothing and skin were soaked in it, like you’d bathed in a crimson river. There was thick splatter on your face, neck, and chest. Your eyes were wide and fixed and you didn’t show any awareness that he was there in front of you. Daryl registered that your shirt was torn down from one shoulder and your bra strap had been cut. He didn’t need an explanation to know what the fuck had happened and rage swelled in his chest, stoking an intense fire. His eyes drifted down to two more bodies lying at your feet, each with uncountable stab wounds and one with his throat cut, his clothing drenched. The metallic smell of blood was in the air and Daryl could almost taste it on his tongue.

Still you showed no awareness that he was there. You seemed frozen, catatonic. He now registered that you had slash wounds through the fabric of your sleeves and cuts on your arms. Defensive wounds where you had blocked a knife attack. There was a purposeful cut partially up the hem of your jeans at the bottom, clearly from one of the men… It was nearly impossible to tell if you were hurt anywhere else because there was just so much blood…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured. “Y/N?” He took a cautious step toward you. “Y/N? Can ya hear me?”

Nothing. No reaction at all.

Just then Daryl heard the noise of several people in the woods nearby and he planted himself between you and the sound, raising his crossbow. “Ya better get the fuck outta here unless ya want an arrow between the eyes!” he roared.

Rick straightened up. That was Daryl. “Daryl?!”

Daryl gulped. “…Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Shane, Glenn, and T! We’re comin’ to you! Are you alright?”

Daryl glanced back at you again. You were still just standing there shaking. “‘M fine. Wasn’t me who fired…” Daryl swung his pack off his back and dug inside it.

The men crashed through the underbrush and came into view, taking in the scene. “Oh my God.” The words spilled from Glenn’s lips. They were all glancing from the bloody bodies on the ground to your blood-soaked figure.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane uttered, pacing closer and bending to look at the slash wound in the one corpse’s neck. Daryl finally laid hands on his poncho and yanked it out of his bag. He turned to look at you and began approaching cautiously. “Y/N? It’s Daryl. Can ya hear me?”

Nothing.

Rick was slack-jawed as he looked at the scene. “Daryl… be careful,” he cautioned, eyeing the knife still gripped in your fist.

Daryl glanced back at him. “She ain’t gonna do nothin’ to me,” he drawled.

“Do you see this?” Glenn asked him urgently indicating the bodies. “This is insane. You don’t know that! She looks completely out of it, like she doesn’t even know we’re here!”

Daryl’s jaw clenched and he turned back to look at you again. “Don’t ya fuckin’ see her? She’s terrified. Look at her clothes. They were tryin’ to rape her,” he growled. “They deserve what they got.”

Shane straightened up from examining the bodies, glancing furtively over at you. “Maybe but… on the force, we’d call this ‘overkill’,” he said, backing up and exchanging a glance with Rick.

Daryl ignored him. “Y/N? It’s alright. You’re safe. Nobody is gonna hurt ya. Just lemme take your knife, okay?” There was no recognition on your face, your eyes still wide and fixed, until Daryl’s hand gently closed over yours and started to open your hand around the handle of your knife. He could feel you shaking beneath his fingers. “S’alright,” he said softly as your eyes landed on his face and then locked with his. Your brow drew down low, casting a shadow over the vaguely confused look on your face. As Daryl gently took your knife, he could see there was a very deep gash in your palm. It was bleeding heavily. He guessed it was either another defensive wound from you putting your hands up to stop one of the men’s knives or otherwise your hand, slick with blood, had slipped down onto your own blade when you’d been fighting them. “Glenn, get some gauze out of my pack and bring it over here,” he said. He spoke calmly and softly. He glanced back over at Glenn when he didn’t move from his slack-jawed frozen position. “Glenn. Gauze.” Glenn snapped himself out of it and went to Daryl’s bag. The archer gulped and draped his poncho over you, covering your ripped shirt. “S’alright,” he murmured again.

You didn’t take your eyes off his face. He wasn’t even sure if you realized the others were there. Glenn walked forward and handed Daryl the small roll of sterile gauze before backing up slowly. The look in your eyes was haunted and dazed and it left all of them feeling empty and concerned.

Daryl opened your hand flat and your eyes drifted down to watch him wrap the bandage over the wound on your palm. You couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t really feel anything, except Daryl’s hands on yours.

Shane turned to Rick. “Rick, what the hell are we gonna do about this? We can’t just waltz her back into camp covered in blood. You don’t want the others seein’ this… Carl? Lori? Or Hershel. Look at her. She looks completely unstable. This might be enough for him to kick us out right now.” He looked back at you over his shoulder.

Rick sighed heavily. “So, we’ll get her cleaned up first.”

Daryl was keeping one ear on the conversation going on behind him. “She needs stitches on this hand,” he drawled. “And who knows how else she’s hurt. Can’t see a damn thing on her right now. And since ya’ll are more worried about yourselves than her, I’ll take care of it. Why don’t ya just get the hell outta here,” Daryl growled.

Glenn stepped forward. “We are worried about her. But you have to admit that this is—this is—” He didn’t even know what word to use. Daryl just stared at him. You were hugging your arms around yourself now, still shaking. Your eyes were downcast, staring unseeing at the ground.

“Listen, I don’t give a shit what ya do. I’m gettin’ her outta here and taken care of.” He hastily shouldered his pack and his crossbow.

“Just—Daryl,” Rick started, pinching the bridge of his nose, the situation weighing on him heavily. “Clean her up a bit before you take her to Hershel to be looked over.”

The archer eyed him through a narrow glare for a moment before he nodded. He turned back to you, your frame swallowed up in his poncho. “C’mon. Let’s get ya home,” he said gently. Your eyes snapped up to his face again and you allowed him to lead you back toward the farmstead.

He picked a path carefully and finally the two of you broke out from the edge of the forest. The others back in the camp were staring at the tree line, wracked with nerves. Lori straightened up as she recognized movement. “Dale—someone just stepped out.”

Dale, standing on the RV, raised his binoculars to his eyes. “Oh my,” slipped from his lips.

“What? Who is it?” Carol asked anxiously.

“I think it’s Y/N and Daryl,” Dale said. “I can’t quite tell properly, but I think something is wrong with Y/N.” He squinted into the binoculars again. “My God. Her jeans are covered in blood and it—it looks like there’s blood on her neck, her face…”

Carol pressed a hand over her mouth. “Is she hurt?” she asked anxiously. “Was she bit?”

Dale shook his head, lowering the binoculars again. “They’re too far. I can’t tell what’s going on.”

Daryl looked up to see everyone standing almost in a line watching the two of you as you started across the field. He gulped and then put a hand lightly on your back, nervous and unsure of how you would react to the contact. He guided you toward his camp which was closest and was set apart from everyone else’s.

“C’mon and sit down, alright. We’re just gonna clean ya up a bit and then take ya to Hershel.” The look in your eyes was worrying him immensely but you sat down on a round of wood pulled up near the fire ring. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how he could reassure you. “Hey. S’alright. You’re safe.”

You met his blue eyes and he finally saw some sense of relief in them. His stomach flipped at the way they softened and he nodded. He took in the sight of you in his poncho again and realized you’d need something else to wear to go see Hershel that wasn’t half ripped off you. “I’m gonna, uhh—” he cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll put a clean shirt out on my cot for ya. Ya can change in in my tent and then we’ll just clean ya up a bit, alright?” He knew better than to wait for a response and climbed to his feet and disappeared into his tent to set the clothes out. He dug around in his duffel bag until he found one that was still folded tightly, definitely clean, and he set it out for you. You watched the handsome archer reemerge from inside his tent and nod his head toward it. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll just be right out here.”

He watched you get up and disappear, zipping the door behind you. He paced in front of the fire circle, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully as the image of you standing there in the woods, frozen, absolutely soaked in blood with your shirt half torn surged forward in his mind and he felt another sickening swell of anger. Jesus. Things could have gone so bad with those men… and they were fucking lucky they were already dead when he got there.

The soft rustling of the tent fabric interrupted his thoughts and you stepped out in his long-sleeved flannel, looking a bit dazed still but more grounded. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “C’mon and sit down,” he said, gesturing to the round of wood again. You sank down on it. Daryl grabbed a bucket of clean water that had been warming in the sun all day. He grabbed a cloth from inside his tent and caught sight of your bloody and torn shirt discarded on the floor, feeling another tight twist between his lungs, like someone had tugged a knot there.

You watched him kneel down in front of you and sink the cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out before bringing it close to your face. He hesitated short of touching you. “S’this alright?” he drawled.

You gave him a questioning look but finally nodded, just one slight tip of your chin. You closed your eyes as the fabric came in contact with your cheek and Daryl started wiping away the blood. The cloth stained crimson quickly. He cleaned the splatters from across your forehead and your nose and the spots on the other side of your face. With the red stains gone, Daryl could see the shadow of a deep bruise along the side of your jaw. Without thinking he gently clasped your chin and turned your head so he could examine it, a heavy shadow falling over his blue eyes. He sunk the cloth back into the bucket of water and wrung it out again, this time pressing it to the side of your neck.

Despite how gentle he was being, you involuntarily sucked in a sharp hiss of air through your teeth as the cloth found the cut on the side of your neck from the leader’s knife. Your eyes blinked open through your wince.

“Sorry,” Daryl drawled, pulling back to look at the wound. “Jesus… Those assholes had a knife to your neck?” he asked. It was rhetorical and he didn’t expect an answer. He wiped at the blood spatter and you closed your eyes again, trying to breathe deeply and still the trembling you still felt wracking through you. Daryl could hear a shaky quality in your breathing. Soon, your face and neck were clean and Daryl turned his attention to your hands. Your eyes were still shut as he rinsed the cloth out again in the bucket. “Lemme see your hands,” he said softly. You found the deep gravel of his voice comforting.

Out of everyone in your group, you usually felt like Daryl was the only one who really saw you. You’d wanted to get to know him better, but held yourself back. He seemed to seek solitude like you did, and you didn’t want to force yourself into his world.

He took your hand, your palm resting against his, and he swept the cloth lightly over the back of it and down each finger. The sensation sent goosebumps rising on your skin and you glanced up at the concerned and intent expression on his face curiously. You couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had shown you so much attention and care. He took your other hand in his now, the one with gauze around it and the deep gash in your palm. He rubbed the blood from the back of each finger and then flipped it over in his hand. He frowned as he noticed that your blood had soaked through the bandage. “Probably need stitches on this one,” he murmured softly. The cloth tickled over the underside of each finger now, sweeping off the ends. “Alright. Push up them sleeves,” he said, dunking the cloth into the bucket again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“What?” He was startled by your voice and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He straightened up, one of his eyebrows quirking down at the question. “Ya had a buncha cuts on your arms. We need to clean ‘em up and check ‘em. See if ya need stitches anywhere else.”

You shook your head.

He gave you a questioning look for a long moment and chewed on his bottom lip. “Alright. Ya can do it. I’ll just go tell Hershel you’re on your way in, alright?”

You stared at him for another long moment as he set the cloth on the edge of the bucket, whose water was now stained a dark pink. You glanced up as he climbed to his feet and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “C’mon up when you’re done and we’ll get that hand taken care of.”

Daryl started over toward the farmhouse and as he approached Carol rushed up to him. “What happened?” she urged him. “Are you okay? Is Y/N?”

He stopped, his hand on one hip. He glanced back out toward the trees and saw the rest of the group making their way back toward camp across the field. “‘M fine,” he drawled. “Y/N ran into some men out there when we were searchin’.”

“Men? What men? What happened? Is she alright?”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip and shrugged vaguely. “I don’t know how to—how to answer that,” he said truthfully.

Confusion muddled Carol’s expression and she glanced in the direction of you over at Daryl’s camp. “Well, what happened?” she asked again.

Daryl looked at her seriously and shrugged vaguely. “Y/N killed ‘em. Didn’t have no choice.” He continued his path up to the house and bounded up the porch steps, knocking on the front door. Carol stared after him, a bit shocked. Maggie answered, looking worried.

“Were those gun shots earlier?” she asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm… Hey, can your dad take a look at Y/N?”

“Of course. What happened?” she asked, holding the screen door open so he could step inside.

Hershel was there in an instant. “Daryl. What happened? We heard those shots.”

“Y/N and I were out lookin’ for Sophia. There were some men. She—she ran into some trouble.”

Hershel took a deep breath and nodded. “Is she alright?”

“I think she needs stitches in her hand. She took a good hit to her jaw too. Might have a concussion. I dunno,” he said. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip again. “I know she’s got some cuts on her arms, defensive wounds, but she wouldn’t let me look at ‘em. Got a cut on her neck.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie said, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“What happened to the men?” Hershel asked.

Daryl quit chewing the side of his thumbnail. “Dead,” he said, watching the old farmer’s reaction closely, but the man’s face was blank. He simply nodded.

“I’ll get my kit. Have her come on in.”

Daryl headed back onto the porch to see how you were doing and you were on your way over. His eyes caught on the dark splatters and stains of blood on your jeans and the slit at the bottom. His stomach twisted. Maybe he should have had you change clothes completely… You were trying to ignore the eyes on you as you made your way over to the house.

Andrea and Lori exchanged a look at the state of your clothes.

“Come on in here and sit down,” Hershel said kindly. “Let’s take a look at that hand.” You offered up your gauze-wrapped hand and Hershel laid it out on the table, unwrapping the already blood-soaked bandage and taking a look at the deep gash. “Pretty deep cut here. Definitely need stitches.” He grabbed a needle from his kit and pricked the end of each of your fingers. They all twitched in response. “You can feel that?” You nodded. “Good. Looks like we dodged any nerve damage. Much deeper and you would have needed major surgery for a cut tendon and who knows what else. Maggie, dear, would you get the sutures set up while I clean this off?”

Nerve damage. Cut tendon. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his spot leaned up against the wall. You hardly seemed to react to the news at all.

Hershel swabbed at your hand and you shut your eyes against the bite of the alcohol. “Now, Daryl tells me you took a good hit to the jaw. I’m just gonna check it and make sure nothing is broken.” He palpated both sides of your face, across your cheekbones and up your jawline. “Just a bit swollen,” he said. “Did you lose sight when you were hit?” he asked you, grabbing a small pen light and checking the dilation response of each of your pupils. You gulped and nodded. “Do you remember your name?” he asked you. You nodded again. “I need you to answer my questions verbally. I’m interested in your answers but also your speech.”

“My name’s Y/N.”

“When is your birthday?” Hershel asked.

You stared at him. “No one here knows my birthday. How will you know if I’m right or not?”

A small smile grew on Hershel’s face. “I’d say your speech and cognition are fine. Probably a mild concussion though with your eyesight blacking out. You’ll need to take it easy the next few days, rest and fluids, and let me know if you develop any new symptoms like vomiting or nausea, confusion, a worsening headache. Understand?”

You nodded again. “Yes. I understand.”

“Sutures are ready,” Maggie said.

Hershel put on a pair of clean gloves and prepared. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to numb you,” he said, propping your hand up on a towel so he could see it better.

“It’s alright. I would have told you to save it anyway,” you said. Daryl straightened up from his place against the wall and came to stand next to you. You could feel his eyes on your face.

“You’re one tough cookie,” Hershel said. “Let’s get this taken care of.” You hardly flinched as he passed the needle through…

Outside, Rick and the others were just arriving back at camp. Everyone gathered around and seemed to read on their faces that they were all unsettled.

“Rick,” Lori said, grabbing him into a hug. “What happened? We saw Daryl and Y/N come back. Her jeans were covered in blood.”

Rick looked down at her. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been taken care of.”

“Well, what was it?” Lori pressed him, her eyes still a bit wide and fearful.

Carol spoke up. “Daryl said she ran into some men and they’re—she killed them.”

Glenn and T were avoiding everyone’s eyes while Shane let out a frustrated sigh and paced away from the group, disagreeing with Rick still about the decision not to tell everyone you had clearly gone slasher on those assholes. Provoked or justified or not, Shane felt like that was something everyone should know. He’d gone far enough to describe you as a serial killer before Rick had stood him down. Rick nodded and looked at his wife and then at Andrea and Dale. “Y/N was attacked and she dealt with it. Hershel is gonna patch her up and there’s nothing to worry about.

“What if there are more of those men?” Carol asked fearfully.

“We only ever saw three different boot prints out there,” T reassured her. “But we’ll keep watch like we always do. We’ll be fine.”

Everyone still looked uneasy, but settled back into their tasks. Lori was about to go fetch some more water when Shane grabbed her arm and tugged her around the side of the SUV. She gave him a stern look and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“What?” she snapped at him, a bit unkindly.

“Rick ain’t tellin’ you everythin’,” he said.

Lori just stared Shane with a guarded expression. “I trust my husband. And you used to, too.”

“Yeah, well… What happened out there today? It should concern everyone.” His expression was dark and Lori felt her sense of unease grow.

Shane rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. “Y/N just—” Shane let out a sigh that had the edge of a growl to it.

“What are you talking about?” Lori pressed him in an undertone. “Are we in danger?”

Shane straightened up and pressed his lips into a thin line briefly before meeting her eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m not taking my eyes off that girl.”

Inside, Hershel tied off the final stitch and snipped the suture. “All done.” He applied a layer of antibacterial ointment and wrapped your hand in a fresh dressing. “Try to keep it dry. And I mean it,” he gave you a pointed look, “take it easy for a few days. Daryl, you hold her to that. Anything else you need me to look at? Your arms? Daryl said—” You shook your head no. “Alright.”

The archer straightened up as you climbed to your feet. “Thank you,” you murmured to Hershel.

Daryl held the door for you and you cringed at how everyone’s eyes were on you immediately as you stepped out onto the porch. You avoided them and started heading in the direction of your camp. Daryl was still in step beside you and you hazarded a glance in his direction.

He could read a question in your eyes. “I’ll keep ya company for a bit if that’s alright... Besides, ya should be restin’ and somebody needs to make sure ya take care of yourself.” You didn’t say anything, but that also wasn’t a refusal. Daryl could tell you were still reeling a bit, and he wanted to be there just in case.

You arrived at your separate camp area and watched as Daryl immediately went and stirred up the coals in the fire, adding more wood and soon having a nice blaze going. You headed for your tent and glanced back over your shoulder at him. “Just gonna change,” you said softly. He nodded and went about heating something for you to eat along with water for tea. He was sure you had collected more ingredients and remembered that your bag was still sitting at his camp. He jogged to grab it and brought it back along with your bloodied and torn shirt, not sure what else to do with it. When he got back, you were sitting by the fire in clean and comfortable clothes, his shirt resting over your lap. You held it out to him as he dropped your pack beside you.

“Thanks,” he murmured. The fabric was still warm from your body. “Dunno what ya wanna do with this,” he said, holding yours out in turn.

You stared at it for a long moment before your fingers closed on it and Daryl watched as you immediately tossed it into the fire. In a moment, it was only ashes and embers. He sank down beside you and felt you studying him. He turned and met your eyes and was surprised when you spoke. “You aren’t afraid of me now? Like the others?” you asked softly.

“Nah. Why would I be?”

Your striking eyes focused back on the crackling campfire and the embers dancing upward on the warm torrent of air. “You saw what I did. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Daryl peered at you curiously for a long moment. “Ya were only protectin’ yourself. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done worse if I’d been there,” he drawled, and you could hear anger in the tension in his voice.

“I blacked out,” you said suddenly.

“When they hit ya? Ya, yer gonna have a good bruise tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You cradled your injured hand absently in the other. “The last thing I remember was the one starting to cut my jeans and then—then I was just covered in blood and they were all dead. And next thing I know you were taking my knife from me.” You shut your eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember anything else.”

Daryl considered the regretful expression on your face. “Don’t matter. Yer safe. That’s what counts. Those men? They had it comin’.”

You looked up at him in surprise and he simply nodded and then grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water for you. You accepted it and dug into your bag, pulling out the small sack of foraged herbs from the day. You dropped a few berries and leaves into your mug and cradled it with your uninjured hand.

It was nearly sunset and the quality of the light was cooling, oranges turning to reds and then fading into deep purples and inky blues. You allowed yourself to frequently study the archer as he shoved a bowl of reheated stew into your hands or added more wood to the fire. You felt surprisingly at ease with him there and he didn’t seem at all bothered by the passing of so much silence. Maybe the concussion just had you slightly numb, but you didn’t think so.

“You aren’t going to ask me?” you finally said.

Daryl looked over at you and he felt a stirring in his chest at the way the firelight was catching the shine and colors in your hair and the soft shape of your lips. “Ask ya what?”

“How I—Why I—” You didn’t even know how to phrase it really.

Daryl watched you struggled for a moment. “Ain’t none of my business. But if ya wanted to talk about it, I’ll listen. Not gonna lie and say I haven’t wondered about what came before ya were with the group.”

You had been on the verge of speaking it but suddenly lost your nerve and sipped at your tea again. Daryl watched you withdrawing again and rubbed a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. Darkness had fallen completely now. “Well, I’ll leave ya alone. Yer probably sick of me anyway,” he drawled. “Get some rest, alright?” Daryl had climbed to his feet and started to head in the direction of his own tent but your voice froze him.

“It’s not that I want to be alone all the time…” Daryl could hear the crackling of the fire in the silence that followed. “It’s just that alone usually feels safer.”

He glanced back at you, turning partially. “Ya. I know the feelin’,” he said gently, pacing back.

You looked up at him and something about your expression, your wide eyes, went straight to his core. “Stay,” you said quietly. “Please.” You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment. “Being with you feels safer…” you admitted, timidly.

Daryl felt an ache in his chest and nodded. He grabbed a seat beside you again and puzzled over this unprecedented turn of events.

You seemed to come to some decision suddenly and looked over at him intensely. He caught your eyes briefly and then watched as you pushed up your right sleeve. At first all he saw were the knife cuts, crimson against your skin, but you turned your forearm toward him in the firelight. “This is what I didn’t want you to see,” you said. You gulped. You’d never told anyone, never shown anyone, literally never talked about what had happened to you since you got out. You’d vowed that you would just move on, but the longer you suffered in silence the worse it seemed to get, until you felt like it would consume you. And then today, with those men, you’d just completely lost it. It had triggered something, a memory or maybe more like a nightmare, and when you came to you were bathed in blood and didn’t even recognize yourself, couldn’t believe what you’d done. Enough was enough. Maybe if you spoke it, admitted it, dealt with it in some way… maybe it’d get easier.

Daryl stared at a scar on your forearm. It looked like a brand and the skin was still slightly pink, showing that it wasn’t that old. It was four numbers. 1048.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

1K notes · View notes