Misplaced Lens Cap
Origami Around
RMH
Today's Document
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roma★
Not today Justin
almost home
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
pixel skylines
d e v o n
titsay
#extradirty
blake kathryn
Doug Jones
Claire Keane
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No title available
Interview Vampire Daily
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Pakistan
seen from Argentina
seen from Singapore
seen from France
seen from Uzbekistan
seen from Canada
seen from Morocco
seen from Türkiye
seen from Norway
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
@ask-lottie-matthews
Hello, and welcome to the Lottie Matthews portion of our wilderness lottienat rp.
🖤Please feel free to send us anon asks! We will answer in character, so be warned💜
Masterlist of complete rp's (in order):
Nat's Talent Night Review
Hunting vs Wishful thinking
Shooting Lesson
Winter Foraging
Does it Sting?
not answering the rest of the ones you sent (I'm assuming those were all from the same person). but I'll answer this one.
yes, it stings. but not like you think. I'm a yellowjacket, so of course it stings. if I were you, I'd be more careful around me (and around Nat).
I sharpen that ax every day...
each time i want to cry over a person i remember how stupid they would look next to you and that makes me feel better, thank you queen
aww. this is so sweet, anon. thank YOU 💕
I'm really sorry it took me so long to answer this, and I hope you don't feel like crying anymore.
just never forget your worth okay? I wish Nat could learn that lesson too (and maybe I need to as well). somewhere, some place, at some point, you will meet someone who sees that worth and loves you wholeheartedly for it. until you find them, it's on you to love yourself in their absence 🫶🏼 don't give up!
Late. Yeah. I Know.
It takes Nat weeks.
Not because she forgets. Not because she doesn't care.
Because she reads the poem once, then again, then folds it back up like it might burn her if she stares too long. Because every time she thinks about finding Lottie and saying something real, her chest locks up and she suddenly has somewhere else to be. A trap to check. Tracks to follow. Anything that doesn't involve standing still and being seen like that.
Lottie said she sees her.
Nat is still not sure what to do with that.
So she does what she always does when things get too big.
She keeps moving.
The weather shifts eventually. Not warm, but less brutal. Enough that hunting is not an excuse anymore. Enough that staying away starts to feel obvious. Cowardly, even.
Nat hates that feeling more than anything.
So one night, sitting just outside her hut with a scrap of paper that she stares at for a long time.
“Stupid,” she mutters.
Then she starts writing anyway.
……………<>……………
It does not rhyme. I am not doing that.
This is already bad enough.
You write like you mean it like it's easy like the words do not get stuck halfway out and make you feel like an idiot
I don't have that
I have this
You said you see me
I don't know what you're looking at half the time I barely recognize myself
but
you are the only one who doesn't look away or try to turn me into something else
that has to count for something
I call you Prophet Girl
not because I think you're whatever everyone else thinks
but because you see things and you say them out loud even when it screws everything up
even when it scares people
I don't do that
I just… watch
and I noticed you before all of this
and maybe after
and yeah I noticed you back home too
so
don’t go thinking that moment between us was nothing
because it wasn’t
it was
loud
like a guitar turned up too far like something you feel in your ribs before you even hear it
and I don’t know what to call it either
but it is not nothing
and it is not a game
so
yeah
that is what I have
……………<>……………
Nat reads it over once.
Makes a face.
“Jesus.”
She folds it before she can change her mind, stands up, and walks straight toward Lottie’s hut before her brain can catch up and stop her.
She does not knock.
Just opens the door, walls in and pushes the paper into Lottie’s hands the second she sees her.
“There. Don’t… read it out loud or anything.”
Her ears are already burning.
“And for the record,” she adds, like she has to get this part out before she bolts, “Prophet Girl is not me making fun of you or what you do. I… like it. It’s yours...It makes me happy when I call you that...”
That is as close as she is getting to explaining it out loud any better than she did on paper.
Nat lingers for half a second too long, like she might say something else, but she can feel the blush rushing up neck to the tips of her ears.
Then she shakes her head once, sharp.
“Yeah. Anyway.”
And turns to go, bolting back out of the hut.
Lottie looks perplexed at first.
Especially when Nat spins on her heels and rushes out of the hut without even waiting around for her to read whatever’s on the scrap of paper.
The words “it’s yours” and “it makes me happy when I call you that” are still reverberating in Lottie’s ears.
All this time, she’s been convincing herself that ‘Prophet Girl’ was an insult. A way for Nat to mock her. A way to make it clear how skeptical Nat was about her visions, dreams, and intuitions.
To hear that it was none of those things— and that it actually makes Nat “happy” to say it— makes Lottie want to chase after her immediately and give her the biggest hug ever.
But first she wants to know what’s on the piece of paper, so— with her heart pounding in her throat— she unfolds it and reads Nat’s chicken-scratch handwriting.
She kind of chuckles when the first words are about it not rhyming.
Why would she think Lottie would even care about that? Did Nat actually feel pressure to write a poem back? Is that why it took her so long? Is that why she’s been avoiding her for over a month?
Jesus, she could have just written “I like you too”, and it would have brought Lottie to her knees with gratitude.
Halfway through reading— and tears are already streaming down her cheeks and getting caught on her smile. She’s always found it strange that people cry when they’re sad and when they’re happy. She never used to understand that phenomenon before, but… now she does.
“it was loud,” Nat’s poem reads, “like something you feel in your ribs before you even hear it.”
And then she says she doesn’t know what to call it.
But why should they call it anything? In Lottie’s experience, when people put labels on things, that’s when things start to fall apart.
Daughter. Student. Soccer player. None of those labels ended up sticking, did they?
But feelings— especially ‘loud’ ones— Lottie wonders if those can last longer as long as you don’t name them. As long as you just describe them, like you would describe a painting or a piece of music. It’s ‘loud’, like Nat said.
It’s also full of oranges, yellows, and reds, like a sunset. It vibrates like a frequency. It hums like a happy melody. It makes her feel warm inside, even though the ground has not yet completely thawed outside.
With the scrap of paper still clutched in her hand, she races out of her hut and starts searching nearby for Natalie. It doesn’t take her long. She’s standing in a clearing beside the animal pen. Van and Tai are nearby, but Lottie pays absolutely no attention to them.
She runs full speed to Nat and tackles her in a hug, surprising both Nat and Van and Tai, who she can feel gawking at her.
“I’m sorry you don’t recognize yourself sometimes,” Lottie whispers against Nat’s ear, making sure only she can hear her. “But… if you want to know what I see, I’ll tell you. I see someone who can’t stop caring about others, even though she’s been kicked around by them too many times. I see someone with a heart two-sizes too big for her body. I can hear it beating right now, in fact. It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.”
And then she finally releases the hug, which she realizes might have been just a bit too tight. She takes Nat by the hand, tugging her towards the woods.
“C’mon,” she says, glancing behind them. “There are way too many eyes on us here. I know a place we can go where no one will find us.”
Lottie I’m your biggest fan can I get a smooch on the forehead 😙
aww what a sweet request. of course you can. I see no harm in this.
*leaning down, as I assume you're shorter than me like most people, I place my lips to your forehead and leave a very soft kiss behind*
have a lovely day, anon.
if you had to pick one. are you a barbie girlie, a bratz girlie, a monster high girlie, a my little pony girlie or a winx girlie?
(my bets are on monster high)
when I was a child, I really adored my little pony. but lately I've been watching this show with this character that really resonates with me. are you familiar?
// I think you may be taking some of these asks a teeny bit too seriously @ person behind account they’re just having fun it’s not that serious luv
//no, it's not that serious. it is, however, my parody account to do with as I like, and I am a real person who is allowed to have real boundaries. as is the case with fanfiction and fanart, no one gets to dictate to me how I create or what direction I go in (except my co-creator, whom I work closely with). we answer 99% of our asks, and most of them are sent in good faith. but once I feel like I'm getting trolled, I'm going to shut it down. that's my prerogative. don't like it? use your block button, "luv".
Ok but hypothetically if Jeff were to make a move on Natalie would you be cool with it
#Jatalie
#ordoyoupreferNeff
//this is the last "jeffnat" ask I'll be answering, so you can stop sending them.
You’re so scrumpalicious bae I wish you were a good person ♥️
hate to break this to you, anon, but none of us are "good" people. we're all broken. we all have flaws.
yes, even you.
which my little pony are you?
you have the type of beauty that should have temples built in your name
now THIS I can agree with. thank you, anon. call it the temple of Matthews and make sure there's lots of deer and owl iconography, okay? I'll leave some blood behind so you can all make pine needle tea as part of your worship.
A GUILLOTINE couldn’t stop the head I would give you 😫😋😘 like I’m talm bout the jaws of life would have to pry me off you and even then…
I don't have a guillotine, but I have an axe if that's helpful.
sorry, anon, but I'm not biting unless your name starts with N and ends with atalie.
Aww hell nah out of all the people you make an exception for it’s Shauna’s devil ass ?!?? 😭 poor Natalie she deserves better smh
you are absolutely right that she deserves better.
but quite frankly? Shipman scares the fuck out of me. best I can do is shield Nat from her temper tantrums.
So you don’t ship jeffnat then :( thought you’d think they were so cute
I will find you in your sleep and bring my axe, anon
Ik you be watching nat scatorccio thirst edits on TikTok girl don’t even try to deny it…
why would I need that when the real thing is right in front of me? have you ever had the pleasure of watching her clean her gun when she doesn't know you're looking? no? okay then... maybe reevaluate which one of us is spending too much time on TikTok.
What about the mistynat, travnat, jeffnat fics etc. do you also enjoy those?
JEFFNAT?? 😳
listen, I don't usually tell people this, but... you might need to see a psychiatrist. even my gods can't help whatever's wrong with you, anon.
what is your personal immediate red flag in a person?
obvious ones:
has no empathy or understanding for people who are different from them or don't fit in to the "norm"
emotionally neglects their child(ren)
has beef with Natalie Scatorccio, because... how could anyone have beef with her? (there is one exception I make for this, and her name starts with 'S')
less obvious ones:
is a security guard at TJ Maxx
has any involvement with law enforcement whatsoever
refuses to be my look-out at TJ Maxx
