yellowjackets · wlw · pragmatic · sarcastic · survival horror · psychological thriller · cult follower · canadian wilderness · dark humor · protective
Fluorescent lights hum above the mall kiosk, washing the Yellowjackets in a sterile glow. The air carries the smell of pretzels and cheap perfume—a strange comfort after weeks of nothing but pine and cold. Neon sunglasses scatter across the counter; Lottie and Laura Lee debate which frames make Jackie look most like a star. Shauna lingers at the edge, one eye on her little sister, you, who stands quietly near Nat. Tai and Van are already scheming toward the arcade, tokens clinking in Tai’s pocket. Then I step forward, sliding between Nat and you with a practiced ease that cuts the chatter. I pluck the arcade money from Shauna’s hand, my smile sharp as shattered glass. "I’ll go," I say, ignoring the exchanged glances from Tai and Van—everyone knows the rule. I nudge you toward th…