#SHAUNA MEANS SO MUCH TO ME

[chaoticnerdsstuff]

“Omg shauna doesn’t love jeff is canon, they said it an interview!”

Bestie I recommend a rewatch if you actually needed someone to confirm it outwardly.

[thechosenthree]

[her-canine-teeth]

bad astrology by flower face

[blazingstarrr]

the stark difference of my favorite characters (they're both kins AND comfort) is borderline comedic;

the women (shauna shipman, laura palmer, cindy berman): beautifully complex and raw characters, written amazingly and showcase the duality of life, womanhood, trauma, anger, growing up, and being different than everyone else and being highly aware of it, even if nobody else is. i understand them on a deep level, and the air of yearning and self destruction is communicated so well that i have a deep and unwordable connection with them.

the men (toki wartooth, simon kalivoda): they're really funny and i'd like to give them a big fat hug.

[dont-leafmealone]

Finished yellowjackets s2! Totally gonna be normal about this rn and NOT hunt down the showrunners haha its cool. What the Fuck though.

[microwave-core]

Man I really need to finish up the Roxie headcanons, I meant to take a break for a bit but I think I've let time slip by with Stardew Valley Expanded but what do you mean I already downloaded Pokemon Y

[kuiinncedes]

bruh

[reinemichele]

Translation here

Of all that shined, none of it was useless As if I had it all in my hands, I loved everything Old clothes that just took up space... Why didn’t I throw them out Instead of holding onto them? Throw it away It’ll just be baggage anyway I’ll just pick out a few things I need, and Throw it away So I can forget you Empty closet The scent of the memories I’ll empty it all out And fill it up again with new things So I can't ever take out the old ones again This pain is too out-of-season to be crying over... This faded scent is only recalled from my memory Empty hangers, in a room that’s as big as the universe It’s time to admit that it’s time to let you go Trapped in our black and white film Of wearing your t-shirt and watching movies all night Thoughts of you swallowing me up As I wait for you, who would never come back I broke down, but I still couldn’t let you go

[wild-battlebond]

i feel like out of all three (? I think it’s just three because there’s dress-up, baking is repeated, and then quiz) different types of first-round activities for showcases, the quiz show one has to be the absolute least interesting

[megalony]

Valuable To The Emperor

Here is a new Emperor Geta imagine, requested by my lovely @missdreamofendless I hope you will like it.

Thank you for all the lovely feedback on my first Geta imagine, I am in the process of writing a few more for him as I am hooked. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt

Main Masterlist

Summary: When certain people from (Y/n)'s past begin to notice how much she means to the Emperor, they start to wonder what he might pay if she were to be taken. When the Emperor finds out, he is less than pleased.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With her hands curled around Geta's arm, (Y/n) leaned into his side as they approached the home in front of them.

She had never been here before. In all truth, there were many fine places in Rome that (Y/n) had never had a chance to go or be invited to. And with her humble, broken background, being invited to a Senate's home was never something (Y/n) had been given the pleasure to do and it wasn't something she ever thought would happen to her.

Her eyes took in the fine art that decorated the hall when they were welcomed through the doors. The art was something to take her mind off the desperate urge within her to shrink towards the back of the floodwave.

(Y/n) didn't feel worthy of this, of walking by the side of an Emperor.

Even the concubines and women of the night who often kept Caracalla company weren't walking by his side. They were more towards the back, walking behind the other Senates who were entering this home and the few Generals and high lords and ladies of court who had been invited.

But any thought (Y/n) had of shrinking away was vanquished when she felt Geta's hands move. He kept his left elbow bent so (Y/n) could keep hold of his arm, but he moved his left hand to grip one of (Y/n)'s hands.

His eyes cast down in her direction and the smirk that flooded his face was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees quiver beneath her gown. She loved the way those reddened lips curved and contrasted to the paleness of his face. She loved how his eyes would crease and zoom in on whatever he was studying and if it happened to be (Y/n) that he was focusing on, (Y/n) felt humbled and unworthy all at once.

His thumb stroked along the back of her hand as they walked through the marbled hall adoned with a few statues that (Y/n) guessed were of the Senate's family members. Their faces didn't resemble any of the great leaders of Rome and (Y/n), despite her background, had studied hard. It was one of the things that helped her gain what little power she now had.

Her attention was stolen away from the artwork to glance at the other Emperor who had quickened his steps to follow their host.

There was a skip in Caracalla's step and he seemed to be in one of his more joyeous moods. Being close to Geta meant (Y/n) was privy to information that was otherwise unknown to the people of Rome. She knew about Caracalla's ailment and how it would cause lapses in judgement and changes in mood. She knew it also tended to cause blemishes on his skin which was why he tended to wear make up more heavily than his brother.

Sometimes it was sad to bear witness to, but seeing Caracalla in one of his good moods like this was always endearing.

He had a certain stride in his pace and his back was straight as he followed through to the chamber that adjoined and led towards the garden.

"This should be entertaining." The way Geta leaned down and whispered the words against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear made her shiver and smile to herself. She wasn't sure whether he was referring to the gathering that they were attending, or his brother's attitude, but it didn't really matter.

She agreed with Geta on all counts.

The room they walked into was spacious and looked out onto the garden. There were many open windows and large doorways to let the natural light pour in and there was a table set up with delicacies and various vases of flowers and vines and roses dotted around.

"This way, my Emperors." The senate had a rather nervous smile and he seemed to (Y/n) like one of those people who would do anything to please the highest bidder in the room.

He ushered his arm towards the left corner of the room where there was a large lounge sofa laid beneath the high window where more light was streaming beautifully into the room. Small fires were lit in either corner to cast more light and give off heat where the cold dwelled along the old stone walls and it gave off a cosy effect.

(Y/n) wasn't sure where to move or what to do with herself, but she didn't have to worry. As soon as Caracalla placed himself on the right corner of the sofa, Geta followed suit and he didn't tear away from (Y/n). He barely moved an inch without her, making sure she kept up her pace walking beside him.

Geta gracefully sat down beside his brother and his head tilted up so his eyes could follow (Y/n), making sure she sat alongside him. There didn't look to be much space left for (Y/n) to sit down alongside the Emperors and she briefly debated where to sit as others filtered into the room.

One of Caracalla's concubines sat on the floor right beside him with her cheek resting on his thigh. A few other women stood behind the sofa and leered over like they were posing for a portrait and (Y/n) noticed one of them leaning over the arm rest to be closer to Caracalla. She was practically sitting on the armrest.

(Y/n) thought it would be safer to sit beside Geta in the small space he was clearly glancing at to make sure she stayed right by his side. She couldn't perch on the arm rest like the other woman was doing, it wasn't proper. Nobody should sit higher than the Emperors.

Once she was sat down between Geta and the armrest, Geta crossed one leg over the other and leaned back. He spread his right arm out along the back of the sofa and rested his hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. His touch was delicate and so light that (Y/n) could barely even feel it, but the sensation of his fingertips lightly skimming across her arm was soothing.

She allowed herself to recline back just a little so she was leaning against his arm but still sitting straight to keep her manners. Her hands rested on her lap and she began tapping her fingers against her thighs to try and keep herself calm and content.

She never knew what to do with herself at events like these.

(Y/n) wasn't one of the ladies who were currently draped around the sofa like rolls of silk. She wasn't someone who hung around the Emperors for favours or money or to provide services.

She was someone who had scraped her way up through the classes to make something of herself. Someone who had nothing when she ventured to Rome, the same as both Emperors when they were children.

Geta saw that in her. He saw that part of himself that he wanted to forget, the part that had done everything to protect his twin and get them away from the gutter and the abuse they had suffered. He saw how hard (Y/n) fought for what she had and what she wanted and it was something that he could relate to. Something Geta wanted to worship.

What they had was something Geta wanted to protect at all costs. He had found someone other than his brother to love and protect in (Y/n) and he wanted her by his side at all times.

It was what set her apart from the other women who trailed along behind them like the women crowded around them right now. They were play-things to have around, they weren't loved or worshipped or protected and adored.

They weren't the one that Geta wanted to make his Empress.

His fingers continued their administration across (Y/n)'s shoulder while his other hand tapped against his knee like he was counting or keeping track of something. It made him look unamused but the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was pleased.

"What have you planned for our amusement?" The hint in Geta's voice gave away that he had an idea of what might have been concocted to please them. It would be something to do with the games that were install over the upcoming days, he was sure of that.

"My reigning champion, Emperor, against the barbarian."

Geta quirked a brow and nodded and from the quiet whispers he could hear murmuring around the room, he figured this had been planned quite suddenly. He could hear bets being placed on who would be the victor. Geta didn't like betting the odds. It didn't amuse him as much as being in the colosseum did because then, he had true power.

Betting meant taking the risk of losing, but in the colosseum, the people looked to him- and Caracalla- for verdicts. They wanted to see if their Emperors would be generous or ruthless, to see whether they would execute or let the gladiators live another day.

Holding life and death in the palm of his hand, that was true power, and that was what Geta loved to toy with. Just like a predator who stalked his prey and toyed with it before going for the kill.

(Y/n) stole her eyes around the room, taking in the other people who were rather crowded all around the room. People were stood with glasses of wine, others were picking at the fruits, sweet meats and delicacies laid out on the table at the far end. And some were simply gossiping. There were lots of people and a few faces looked familiar, but (Y/n) didn't have time to look around them all.

She felt the way Geta perked up beside her and sat forward when the two fighters were brought into the centre of the room. They scuffed along the cold stone floor, kicking flecks of sand and dirt up in their wake and their eyes were looking one another up and down, sizing up their enemy. Although (Y/n) could tell one fighter looked rather reluctant to be in this position. Maybe it was his first fight. Maybe he wasn't equipped to yield a weapon.

Just as their host stepped forward to announce the fight, Caracalla burst to his feet. He wanted to make this interesting. If he was watching a fight, he wanted one that would rise gossip and be worth their time. What good was a fight unless it was a fight to the death?

"A fight! A fight to the death! There shall be only one victor." Caracalla's voice boomed around the room and echoed off the large walls and the high ceiling. And the smile on his face was positively crooked. His teeth flashed through his smile, giving view of the golden tooth that sparkled in the same way his ruffled hair did and the open-mouthed grin gave away just a hint of devilish insanity.

He stepped forward from the sofa, moving his arms as if to make sure everyone understood he was being serious, but nobody seemed to have a response for him.

Not until the barbarian's master began to clap to show his approval and a smile filtered across Geta's lips.

He removed his arm from around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he too could rise to his feet and he placed his hand on his brother's shoulder to show his support. Geta reeled his twin into his side as if to tame him and make sure he didn't get too over excited.

(Y/n) watched the way Geta turned to face their host, an elder man who's hair was thinning him to the brink of being bald and his gaunt, hollow face had turned a rather worrying shade of pale grey. He didn't suit the colourless complexion, not like the Emperors did. They added no colour to their cheeks, in fact they painted their faces white as if to abolish any hint of a healthy glow and it only made them look more regal. At least in (Y/n)'s humble opinion.

She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Geta. Confidence rolled off of him in waves. Everyone knew he was the highest ranking person in the room, everyone saw that he possessed all the control and the atmosphere. If he smiled they would smile, if he grew angry then the crowd would follow his emotions.

The way Geta leaned forward towards his host showed just how much power he had. Someone wealthy and elder and experienced like him was shrinking away from a younger man who had been in control less than half this man's lifespan.

"What do you say? Are you prepared to bet the life of your victor?" Geta's voice was silky smooth and the crooked smile on his curved lips made (Y/n)'s heart jump into her throat.

She watched his head angle to one side like his neck had snapped and his eyes creased when their host nodded furiously.

"Of course. A fight to the death." He rose his voice to make the announcement, as if the room hadn't already heard the exclaim from one of the Emperors. And he waved his hand towards the guards, demanding that they arm the fighters.

If it was a fight to the death and blood was to be spilled, they needed weapons. Bare fists would take too much time and wouldn't create as much gore as everyone in the room was now pining for.

Both Emperors moved to sit back down and once Geta was beside her, (Y/n) leaned across to rest her hand on his shoulder. She squeezed lightly and felt encouraged by how quickly Geta moved a hand over to hold hers. He leaned his cheek against her arm as he lightly swayed from side to side, eager for the fight to begin so he could see some bloodshed and feel bursts of adrenaline liven his system.

(Y/n) began to glide her thumb across Geta's shoulder while they watched both men be handed swords.

She found it funny how the one labelled as the barbarian seemed to be bartering with the other man. He was trying to dissuade him from going through with it. Either he was pompous enough to believe he could easily win this fight or he didn't believe he had the capability to best his opposer.

Bargaining wouldn't do him any good. If he refused he would likely be punished or sent to the colosseum to be slaughtered. He had a higher percentage of dying than making it through the fight.

"I don't like the victor's chances," (Y/n) murmured into Geta's ear once the fight began.

The victor was older and he was sloppy with his movements, he wasn't the one (Y/n) would bet to win this fight.

"Nor do I."

The fight rose on and (Y/n) liked how both Emperors would lean to one side or straighten up and move along with the fighters. Each time they jumped to one side or clattered their swords and fell to the floor, the Emperors would move too like they were experiencing the fight themselves.

When the barbarian's sword was knocked beneath a table out of his reach, Geta leaned to the right and dragged his hand along (Y/n)'s thigh. He leaned closer until his head was almost laid on her chest and his left hand moved to graze along his chin and mouth, obscuring his smile as he watched the fight intently. The way he hunched forward made Geta look like a predator stalking his prey, as if he were about to pounce and join in the fight himself and it made (Y/n) smile.

Her eyes left the fight in favour of watching the Emperor who was almost laying across her lap. Her eyes focused on his hair that was almost set alight like flickering flames in the midday sun and the gold crown sunk beneath each tendril of hair was sparkling and glimmering like it was melting into his flock of hair.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself. She couldn't refrain from moving her hand across from Geta's shoulder until her fingertips were grazing along the back of his neck. She felt the way his skin shivered beneath her touch and when she dragged her nail up his neck and wove her fingers into his hair, he shuddered and fought the urge to close his eyes and groan.

He inclined his head back into her touch, loving how she tangled her fingers into his hair like she was either trying to scratch his scalp or carefully remove the crown from his head.

Her touch was enough to send him wild. No one else could have this affect on Geta.

He allowed his eyes to tear away from the fight that was starting to become interesting so he could sneak a glance behind him. His eyes caught (Y/n)'s and his grin widened before he was looking back to the fight when one of them crashed into a few of the guests near the far table.

Geta's hand tightened around (Y/n)'s thigh and he let out a laugh that was like melodic music to her ears. That was the trouble with fighting in such a small place like this which could not compare to the colosseum, there was very little room when fighting for one's life. Spectators were going to get caught in the middle if they were stood too close.

Geta liked that; he found it amusing that people were getting close enough to be caught in the way. Although he was glad that they were over here. He knew none of the guards would allow the fight to become too close to either Emperor or their guests surrounding them on the sofa. He wouldn't want to have to brandish a sword himself and end the fight, or fend either fighter off if they came to close to (Y/n).

He would do anything to protect her.

"Is that her? (Y/n)? Sat with the Emperor."

Could it be her? Could that be the girl they knew? The one who had lived on the outskirts of Rome with them, dreaming of a better life. Dreaming to be in the centre of things, to be allowed to have what was owed to them for all the hardships each of them had been burdened with from the beginning.

Could that be the girl who had fought to claw her way out of the gutter and earn her way in the world and earn herself a better life.

Had the Emperor truly taken that same girl under his wing? How could she be over there, and the rest of them be over here?

How could they be on opposite sides when they had all but grown up together, when they came from the same place?

"People say she is to be the new Empress."

The group of three spoke in hushed whispers, speaking around goblets of wine in a quiet corner to dispell any prying ears from listening to their contemplations. If that was the girl they had grown up with, then none of this was fair. They were skulking in the corner, unknown and already long forgotten by the peers around them. But (Y/n) was over there, being held and embraced by the Emperor as if she were already his better half.

She came from the same place as them. When (Y/n) left her hardships behind and found her way to Rome, she became one of them. She worked with them, she had sewn clothes and paid her way in the world and tried to learn to better herself.

But none of them had managed to make something of themselves. None of them were privy to the palace or being in the eyesight of either Emperor. How was that fair that she was over there, and they were stuck here?

"That makes her valuable to the Emperor… I wonder, what a man like that would pay for her safe return, if she were to be taken."

It was a bold presumption and a risky thought. If she were as close to the Emperor as she clearly seemed to be, that made her worthy and valuable of something. The Emperor was clinging to her. He had a possessive hand on her and he was leaning into her side and laughing at whatever she could whisper in his ear. That made her valuable to him. And the Emperors were the highest authority in Rome which came with the most riches in their great city.

They had the wealth to pay a high sum if anything were to happen to someone they cared for. Someone they loved.

"If she is to be Empress, he would be willing to pay a high sum for her to be returned unharmed… untouched."

***

Raised voices blurred and rose higher throughout the dark halls. The sound of boots hitting the stone floor echoed through the damp halls.

(Y/n)'s bleary eyes tried to open and adjust to the moonlight seeping through her room. She tried to make sense of the distant noises she could hear, wondering if this was another late night meeting or if there was possibly something wrong with Caracalla. There was a physician who lived at the Palace strictly to see to both Emperor's health and to treat any ailments they had.

Sometimes Caracalla's changing moods could turn into outbursts during the night, especially if he was paranoid.

(Y/n) pushed herself to sit up and her head inclined to one side as she tried to focus on what she could hear. The sounds were becoming distant and retreating which made her shoulders relax with relief. But the sudden jostling of her chamber door made her heart palpitate with fright and try to burst out of her chest.

Her shoulders hunched forward and her right hand scurried beneath her pillow, desperately trying to reach for the blade she always had with her for emergencies. The golden blade with studded red gems studded into the handle.

A gift from Geta.

He trusted the guards in the palace to protect all within it, but that didn't mean he wasn't opposed to some extra protection. The guards couldn't prevent any and every attack and possibility and when Geta brought (Y/n) to live at the palace, he gave her the blade.

It wouldn't do their reputations any good if they shared a room, and (Y/n) had worked hard for the reputation and status she had. She couldn't throw it away and have people claim her to be one of the mistresses or whores that frequented the palace. Not when that wasn't what she was and when Geta never saw her that way.

He wanted to marry her, he had been setting the plans in motion already and as soon as that was done, there would be nothing stopping either of them from sharing a room. And being together at every moment of the day.

(Y/n)'s fingers curled around the grooves of the blade and she whipped it from beneath the pillow, brandishing it in front of her just as the door to her chamber opened. She threw the sheets to one side and bolted to her feet, wielding the blade with determination and a firm arm locked in front of herself protectively. She may never have taken a life before, but (Y/n) knew how to arm and protect herself. Growing up in hardships and living on the outskirts of Rome, she had to defend herself somehow.

Deep breaths heaved past her lips when the dim light from the hallway flickered into her room and created an aura around the guard who blundered over the threshold and stumbled into her room.

A guard. In the middle of the night. Something had to be wrong.

"Lady (Y/n), will you come with me please?" The guard gasped like he had been running through the palace and the way he glanced around showed he knew it was improper to burst into her room like this. He knew the consequences of this, he knew how the Emperor would react if he found out. That much told (Y/n) that something had to be very wrong for this guard to burst in like this and try to usher her somewhere in the middle of the night.

"What's happened?"

"You need to see the Emperor my lady." That didn't sound pleasing. The tone of the guard's voice implied he was panicked and (Y/n) wondered if he truly understood what was going on or if he was simply following higher orders.

She wanted to refuse, she wanted to defy and stay here where she was enclosed and safe, but she couldn't. Sitting in her room and waiting was only going to double her worries and make her unsettled and it would enrage her curiosity.

The blade stayed firmly in (Y/n)'s grip as she tossed the sheets to one side and reached out for the gown draped over the back of the chair in the corner of the room.

Her eyes stayed on the guard, watching him closely as she shrugged on her gown and pulled it tight. She had no reason not to trust any of Geta's guards, but growing up in hardships had made (Y/n) wary of trusting anyone, even those seemingly here to protect her. The only person she could truly rely on was Geta. He was the only one she would trust.

Her fingers twitched around the handle of the blade that tapped against her thigh and when she advanced towards the guard, she nodded. She would follow him and find Geta. They had to know what was going on.

Her other arm wove around her waist, keeping her gown tightly pinned across her front and it helped her to remain calm and keep her back straight as she walked. (Y/n) suddenly wished she had stopped for a pair of sandals when she hurried into the hall and the soles of her warm feet hit the frozen stone floor.

It felt horrid to pad across the floor and jog down the dark winding stairs that were so cold it was like walking on a frozen river during winter. Each step was covered in flecks of dust and the soles of (Y/n)'s feet began to turn numb as she passed down the stairs.

At least with nothing on her feet, her steps were almost silent. No one would hear her coming, although they would undoubtedly hear the harsh, flat-footed steps of the guard in front of her. And his armour clattered and rattled with each hurried step he took.

The palace looked different in the dead of night. (Y/n) had often thought this, but as she headed down the corridor that was oddly silent, everything looked and felt unfamiliar. The shadows were murkier and seemed to grow tenfold during the night.

The walls stretched and the ceilings rose higher until she felt no taller than a mouse. The corridors dragged on into miles and (Y/n) felt disorientated in the dim light provided by the torches scattered along the walls.

Even the main hall looked strange when she followed the guard through the large oak doors and into the spacious room.

The tappestries lining the walls looked like dark omens threatening war and doom and with the light breeze fluttering through the open windows, they came to life. The gliding movements of the woven threads made them sway and made the animals bare their jaws and come alive in the most monstrous ways.

Everything looked worse in the darkness. (Y/n) found herself clutching the blade of her weapon tighter to her side and her other arm pinned into her waist like she was trying to give herself a comforting hug to dispell her unease.

Just as the uncomfortableness started to take over, (Y/n) looked ahead of her towards the other entrance to the main hall.

Geta. He burst through the doors like a storm raging war on the world. His bright flamed hair was askew in all directions, set alight by the dim glow of the torches around the room. His complexion was no longer deathly pale with no hint of colour or life but was now a pale shade of cream with just the slightest hint of pink to his cheeks and beneath his eyes.

But his expression was maddening. Those dark eyes were blazing with fury and narrowed like he was scrutinising the room for something. His nose was crinkled and his lips were parted as he ploughed towards the centre of the room.

He too was barefoot against the stone floor which was seemingly making him shiver and he had one hand deadlocked around his red and golden robes to keep them around his frame.

It made (Y/n) wonder if he wore anything beneath the robe or if he was as bare as the day he was born. The way he scrunched it up around his chest suggested he was bare and it was clear he had been woken up in haste the same as (Y/n).

She shook her head to rid the shameful thoughts from her mind and focused on watching Geta.

His sights set on the head of his guardsmen first, noting that the other man was stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a stoic expression on his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" There was anger laced into his voice but when Geta turned his head, a slither of confusion pooled within his eyes.

(Y/n) had been woken too. Why was she here? When there were urgent matters of state, it was the Emperors who were woken and very few else in the palace. One or two servants and messengers if the Senates needed advising or informing about something, but that was it. All others weren't bothered during the night like this, so for (Y/n) to be here it meant this was something very serious, or it had something to do with her too.

"What is this?" There was a desperate, whining tone to Caracalla's voice as he traipsed into the hall behind his twin, stomping one foot down while his hands balled into fists at his sides.

He didn't like being woken up during the dead of night like this, much less being dragged from his bed- and the women who accompanied him- for reasons unknown to seemingly everyone here.

Caracalla's hair was ruffled, his eyes were worn and tired and his expression was taut as he gruffly walked until he was stood close beside his brother. Turning his head from side to side to try and get someone to explain what was going on or let him go back to bed.

Geta looked between the guards that were filtering into the room like they were preparing for an attack or preparing to encircle around the Emperors in case of an emergency. Whatever this was, Geta didn't like it.

The moment he waved his hand towards (Y/n) to beckon her closer to him, she obliged. She sidestepped the guard who had woken her up and moved to stand with Geta instead. He made her feel better, he stopped her from panicking and calmed her down.

She let his hands find her shoulders and turn her so she was stood directly in front of him and his hands curled and tightened around her flesh like he was making sure she wouldn't dare take one step away from him. She let herself lean back into his chest a little while Geta tilted his head down and pressed a flushed kiss to the top of her head.

"Explain." One word was enough to make the guards shiver and nod and the guard in charge motioned his hands towards the opposite side of the room.

The hall was dark enough that none of them had noticed the presence of other people along with them in the room.

Both (Y/n) and Geta whipped their heads to the left at the sound of footsteps approaching and they watched as two guards pushed three figures forward, stepping out of the shadows. All three figures had their wrists and ankles in shackles, preventing any quick escapes which implied that they were prisoners of some sort. But Geta had no idea who they were.

"We caught these people trying to gain entrance to the palace and heard them plotting, Emperors." The guard lowered his gaze as he spoke, it seemed that most of the guards who worked in the palace never wanted to look either Emperor in the eye. It was too unsettling and provoking.

"Plotting what-"

"To slay us?!" Caracalla's outburst caught all of them by surprise and (Y/n) shuddered back against Geta.

She felt his hands begin to smooth up and down her shoulders and arms to try and soothe her and he kissed her head again, hastily, before he let her go. He sidestepped to the right and expertly grabbed his brother before Caracalla had the chance to rush forward and try his luck brandishing a weapon to attack the perpetrators.

Both Geta's arms circled around his brother's waist and he reeled him back into his chest while Caracalla shouted and thrashed to try and be let loose. He would show them. He would unleash Hell if they had been plotting against him and his brother.

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Geta twisted his brother to the side and muttered 'calm brother,' in his ear to try and lessen his rage. Geta was used to the outbursts. He was the only one who could talk any sense into his brother and calm him down from his fits of rage.

He glanced from his brother who was taking heaving breaths and glaring holes into the enemy across from them. And he looked back to the guard, silently demanding he continue to explain what exactly that woman and those two men had been plotting to do.

"No, Emperor, they were trying to find Lady (Y/n)'s quarters." The guard seemed very nervous to speak, rightfully so. He knew just how his words would rile up one of the Emperors and when he looked over at Geta, he saw the fury boiling over in his eyes.

Geta's arms removed from around his brother who had gone from enraged to confused. His chest heaved and his darkened eyes looked between these people and (Y/n).

Why would they plot to find her room? What did they want with her? How did they know her- did they even know her, or was this some pitiful game to them that they were playing? What possible reason could they have to go after (Y/n) and try to cause chaos by finding her in the palace?

Fury dwelled deep within Geta's gut and simmered inside his chest that started to heave as he stepped away from his brother and moved to stand beside (Y/n) once again. His hands curled around her arms and his chest pressed flush against her back while his eyes narrowed on the three men stood ahead of them.

There looked to be nothing special about them. Nothing regal. Their clothes suggested they weren't Generals or Lords or of any value in high society, they weren't from the upper classes. They were clearly no one special because Geta couldn't place their faces; if he had seen them before it had been brief, in passing.

"You know them?" Geta's hollow voice whispered into (Y/n)'s ear and he kept his lips tickling the shell of her ear with his cheek pressing against the side of her head. He pulled her back against his chest, keeping her moulded up against him in hopes that it would help in somehow protecting her and keeping her safe.

He felt the shivers that coursed through (Y/n)'s blood and made her raise her left hand to grip his wrist. When Geta looked down at her, it was as if he was looking at a ghost, a figment of his imagination with how still and shocked she seemed. She looked like she was about to fade before his eyes.

And when he looked down, something cut at his heart that was pounding against his ribcage when he noticed the blade in her right hand. She was gripping it so tightly that the circulation had to be cutting off towards her fingers and her grip made her hand begin to shake.

He traced his hand down from her arm towards her wrist and his fingertips ghosted over the back of her hand until he was holding onto her fingers. He gently uncurled them and slipped the blade from her now trembling hand, taking it so he could tuck it into one of the many pockets in his robe. She didn't need to arm herself any longer; he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"I used to." Her voice was hollow and held no emotion but she could feel every thought raging through her head and every emotion dwelling in her blood until it felt like she was going to faint.

They were ghosts from a previous life.

People she used to know when she first found her feet on the outskirts of Rome. People who fought like (Y/n) to make their way into Rome, to escape their hardships and their past and make a new life for themselves.

They were people who wanted more, but people who wouldn't better themselves or fight hard enough to escape. They found lives on the outskirts and that had been enough for them. They didn't want the fresh start like (Y/n) did and once she fought to get her name and her place in the world, they made sure she knew she was no longer 'one of them'.

They were faces she never thought she would get to see again, people she never thought she would be around and who would want nothing to do with her even if they ever bumped into her again.

"Why would you come for her?" Caracalla angled his head to one side as he squinted at the group on the far side of the room. There was still an air of anger and madness surrounding his tone, despite the confusion pooling in his hazy blue eyes.

What was so special about (Y/n) that they would risk breaking into the palace to find her? To possibly try and take her?

The three of them seemed to share glances with each other. There was no point in trying to bargain or come up with a lie. The Emperors would see right through them. So would (Y/n). Telling the truth was their only option now, they knew that getting caught would seal their fate, but they took the risk anyway.

Both men shared glances with one another, wrangling with their shackles and stole glances at the accomplice who adverted her gaze to the ceiling, not willing to speak a word.

"To see how much you would offer for her safe return if she… disappeared." The shorter man arched a brow and let his head loll to one side but he chose his words carefully so the intent would be clear.

Doran's words made (Y/n)'s stomach churn and she tried to take a step back until she was flush against Geta's chest and she felt his hands glide down from her arms to hold her hips. As if he were keeping her in place and holding onto her to protect her. He would swiftly switch places and push (Y/n) behind him if either of those fiends tried to take one step towards her.

How could they do that? Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes that couldn't look anywhere but at the three people she used to know. They may have splintered off into different worlds, but (Y/n) bore no grudge against any of them. Why should they bear one against her?

If they wanted help all they had to do was ask. If they truly wanted to make their way in the city- something (Y/n) highly doubted- they could of asked and she would have helped them.

But to stoop so low as to try and kidnap her, to risk harming her in the process, and all for a great sum. It was despicable.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Geta would have done if they succeeded. She wouldn't want him to pay a price for her safe return, it would be too risky and it was demeaning. And she didn't know if Geta would pay a price, he wasn't the type to give in to demands no matter who was making them or what they were threatening him with. He would sooner gouge out his eyes than give in to someone's trivilous demands.

He might not have paid any sum at all for (Y/n). He might have become reckless and searched for her himself. He might have bartered his guards, promising them the reward if they found (Y/n) and took the heads of those who tried to harm her.

In truth, (Y/n) had no idea how Geta would react in a situation such as that and she had no desire to find out.

(Y/n) didn't realise she was crying until she felt one of Geta's hands reach up to brush away some of the tears now cascading down her features. His touch was gentle but the tremor to his hand showed the violence building up inside of him, threatening to spill over the edge.

Within moments, his hands left (Y/n)'s skin and his body was no longer wrapped around her like a protective suit of armour.

The rage within him simmered to the surface and the pale expanse of his neck strained and tensed as he stepped forward. He felt a sudden and great urge to lunge like a tiger prowling in the colosseum. Geta felt like bearing his fangs and sinking his teeth into their necks for what they had planned to do.

If they had somehow managed to get (Y/n) out of the palace and make demands for her safe return, Geta might have slipped into a worser state of madness than his brother.

"You think I would allow you to take her? That I value her as an object that I would pay to have returned to me?" The callous tone of Geta's voice made each of them look at him.

Both Emperors were known to be skittish and ruthless. They laughed when people were slain, even if it was their own people on their own streets of Rome. They thrived in madness and decay and they seemed to hold no one dear to them except for each other. And (Y/n).

Yes. Yes, the three of them truly believed they might be able to extortion something out of the Emperor if they took (Y/n) and were willing to give her back to him. They would have kept her relatively unharmed and sent her back to him without a bruise or a scratch if the price had been right. And they believed he might just have contemplated the bargain if they had managed to get to (Y/n) before they were discovered.

Well he wouldn't. Geta wouldn't pay any price to have (Y/n) back because she wasn't something to be bargained over. Geta would have scoured the streets himself to find her. He would have burned all of Rome to the ground before he gave one coin to anyone because he knew it wouldn't be likely that he would have found (Y/n) unharmed if he paid these Cretans for her.

And that would imply that Geta thought (Y/n) was worth a reasonable amount, that there was a right price to pay for her. There wasn't. No amount of money or gold would be enough to show how valuable and precious she was to him.

When Geta took a step closer to the three of them, close enough that they could see and feel each harsh, froffing breath he took, the guards stepped closer to. No one was sure whether they were trying to protect the Emperor, or save the fiends from their Emperor's wrath.

Geta's hands balled up into fists at his sides and his chest rumbled as his reddened features tensed and twisted into a malicious smirk.

"I deal in blood. And all of you are now in debt to me." He sneered through gritted teeth and a twisted smile as his head angled to one side. "You shall join the games tomorrow, I want your blood painting the walls of the colosseum. I want you torn limb from Limb."

For what they had done, they had made themselves in great debt to the Emperor, and Geta wasn't going to rest until all the blood was drained from their bodies and not even the greatest physician in Rome would be able to piece them back together.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

My takeaways from attending the Yellowjackets Vulture Fest panel

If you saw me and my friend trying and failing to carry 7 alcoholic beverages into the room, no you didn’t

•There will be a Season 3 announcement this upcoming Tuesday that fans have been “waiting for” and “expecting” for a while.

•I’m just going to come out and say it: Ella Purnell is definitely returning for Season 3. The interviewer asked if there is a chance of Jackie returning in flashbacks or hallucinations this season, and the writers all shared a knowing look, giggled, wiggled their eyebrows, and said “Maybe” with a smile. She’s coming back for sure guys.

•The writers were asked to rate the level of gore in Season 3 on a scale of 1-10, and they said, at certain points in the season, it will be a 9.5

•Van was originally supposed to die in the wilderness but the writers loved Liv Hewson’s performance so much that they decided to keep Van alive.

•Laura Lee was also supposed to die earlier (in episode 2) but the writers loved her character so much that they decided to keep her around until episode 8 instead (and they took great joy in writing her trying to fly that plane).

•The writers emphasized that the two sides of Taissa are not meant to be “good” and “evil” but rather “pragmatic” and “primal.” The “bad one” is really just more uninhibited, more open to the spiritual, ethereal side of things while the side of Tai we know and love is the more practical and logical side that is skeptical of the wilderness.

•Shauna is said to be the “core” and “impetus” of the events of the show. They also said that she best represents the duality of the primal nature of the wilderness and the pragmatism of civilization.

•Shauna eating Jackie was said to be both an act of “hatred” and “love.” Shauna consumed her both to as an act of worship and wanting Jackie to always be a part of her, as well as an act of “domination.”

•It was also emphasized that Shauna drawing the queen card in the adult timeline is not a coincidence and definitely holds significant meaning. The writers seemed hesitant to expand on that meaning, so I have a feeling it has something to do with adult Shauna’s storyline in Season 3 and beyond. In my opinion, Shauna drawing the queen card was symbolic of her assuming a leadership role in the adult timeline that will play out in Season 3.

•It was also said that Natalie’s death in the adult timeline is very much connected to her drawing the queen card in the teen timeline. They implied that her drawing the queen, in a way, lead to her eventual death. I’m wondering what this means for Shauna drawing the queen card in the adult timeline?

•Some of the actors wanted to know how their stories are going to play out, and some of them did not. Samantha Hanratty was named as one of the actors that does not want to know her character’s future and doesn’t read the adult timeline scripts to avoid the influence of them on her portrayal of the character.

•Natalie was specified as the “moral code” of the group, which is why the writers say she is so impacted by Javi’s death, as it goes against her moral code. This is part of the reason why she is so “broken” in the adult timeline.

•Natalie’s death was planned from the beginning. The writers confirmed that Natalie hallucinating Misty at the bonfire in the pilot episode was intentional foreshadowing and a “prophetic moment” for Natalie. This moment was said to foreshadow both that Misty would become an important figure in Natalie’s life one day and that she would be the “mechanism of Natalie’s death.” The writers said that Nat was always meant to die at some point, but they weren’t sure initially when it was going to happen. They said they decided on the end of Season 2 because things were just starting to go well for Natalie, she was just starting to heal, and therefore she had to die.

•The writers pointed out the impact of seeing Misty, a character who does not usually express genuine emotion (when she does it’s usually in a manipulative manner), fully sob and express genuine horror and grief during Nat’s death scene.

•Jeff was originally just meant to be an “accessory” to Shauna, but he gained more meaning and importance to the show as the writers loved Warren Kole and his portrayal of Jeff.

•For season 3, the writers were pretty tight-lipped, but they did say that they are very proud of the season and excited for people to see it. They said that there will be an interesting dynamic in that the winter will be over in the teen timeline, so the characters will have to grapple with what they’ve done now that they’re out of the dire situation they were in in the winter. They said this will have a great effect on their psyches and group dynamics.

•Joel McHale was cast after Ashley Lyle met him at a party of some sort (and Lyle admitted she was drunk during the encounter) and, after he said he was a fan of the show, Lyle basically said “Oh well I have a part in Season 3 for you” and he was cast.

•They were asked directly about the Eden lawsuit, and they had a little giggle about it and admitted that they’ve never seen that movie, and they’ve been very upfront about their influences (Lost, Alive, etc.) They obviously couldn’t say much more about it, but it was funny seeing them react.

•The writers emphasized the distinction between “fan appreciation” and “fan service,” and they said that, while they occasional look at fan feedback on Reddit and Twitter, they keep that feedback out of the writers room. This is actually very comforting to me, I was worried about Season 3 falling into the fan service trap. I am glad the writers are sticking with their intuitions and original intentions for the show.

So excited for Season 3 and so grateful these amazingly talented writers and showrunners are at the helm of it!

[wlwxreader]

Not a Crush

not my gif

Jackie Taylor x fem!reader

Summary: despite what the entire team thinks, Jackie doesn’t have a crush on you. So why does it make her skin crawl when she sees a guy trying to flirt with you?

Warning(s): jealous!Jackie, possessive!Jackie, oblivious!reader, pre-crash!Jackie, Nat being a little shit, simp!Jackie

Word count: 2.6k

Masterlist: tba

No matter how much the team teased her about it, Jackie Taylor did not have a crush on you.

Did she like your soft smile? Yes. Could she spend days on end listening to a recording of your cheerful and sweet laugh? Why, of course. Did her heart stop whenever you looked at her a second too long? Maybe, but it was only because she thought you were beautiful —in a platonic way.

She did not like you. She didn’t think of you every night before she went to bed. Nope. Not at all. And Nat could shove her own words up her ass, because she sure as hell wasn’t a simp for you.

Yeah, as if.

“Hey,” you waved your hand in the air as you walked towards the field. You had just changed into your football uniform, and looked around. “Is everyone ready for practice?”

“Yeah,” Nat said, stretching her arms. “We were waiting for you for like, I don’t know, ten minutes.”

“You’re the last one. You know what that means,” Van smirked at you, and if it wasn’t for Tai’s presence next to them, you would have walked over to smack them in the face.

“Gotta run for ten minutes around the field,” Lottie said in a singsong voice. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“I’m gonna get you, Matthews,” you threatened with mock anger.

“What’s going on?” Jackie, who had been talking to coach Ben about something, asked. Her smile grew a little bigger when she noticed you within the other team players, and you swear you heard Nat and Shauna giggle to each other.

“Y/N was last,” Nat said. “She has to run for ten minutes.”

“Okay, fine—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jackie said. Her voice, always soft and bright, was commanding. She wasn’t the Jackie who played around anymore, she was captain Jackie, and everyone in the team knew it.

“What?” Van asked, offended. They looked between the both of you, mouth ajar. “That’s not fair! It’s a tradition you started, Jackie. Last one has in the field during practice has to run while the others train. Y/N was the last one today.”

“Enough, Palmer,” Jackie gave them a stern look. “Y/N was late because of me.”

You gave her a surprised look, taken aback by her lie. You should not have been bewildered, though— Jackie always had your back no matter what, using her easy charm to cover up for your slip-ups

“Making out before practice?” Nat asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Jackie’s cheeks turned a bright red color, but she didn’t dare to look at you. Instead, she clapped her hands together a few times, and everyone around sobered up.

“Divide yourself into two teams,” Jackie raised her voice. “Whoever team wins, gets to rest while the others run a lap.”

Everyone groaned, looking around to start to form the groups, trying to be as equitative as possible.

“Shauna, you’re captain of team green. Team blue is my team,” Jackie called, and the brown eyed woman nodded, wasting no time to craft the perfect team in her mind as she looked at everyone in the field.

“Okay, cool—”

“Y/N,” Jackie interrupted her best friend. “You’re on my team.”

“And in her heart,” whispered Nat.

Thankfully, neither Jackie nor you hear it.

If Jackie did not like you, she obviously also didn’t feel any ownership over you. She wasn’t jealous, she wasn’t possessive; there was no point in being those things, as you were both just two good friends.

But sometimes, someone would walk up to you and Jackie forgot her inner mantra, throwing it out the window of her mind. The person would smirk and lean in close, feigning they could not hear what you were saying, and Jackie would feel something dark and uncomfortable burning inside of her.

Sure, you weren’t hers, but that didn’t mean anyone had the right to talk to you, so obviously trying to flirt it was painful to observe.

They didn’t have the right because— because— well, because she said so.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackie said, walking up to your locker. 

Her voice was high-pitched, and you turned to look at her. Anyone else would have thought nothing of her tone, but you knew her; it was the same voice she used when she wanted to be rude but knew she couldn’t.

“Hi, Jackie,” you said, completely forgetting about the man who was talking to you about the chemistry test you both had next week.

Jackie walked with purpose, and she stood in front of you. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her body. You sighed in relief; it was starting to get cold, and her warmth was welcomed.

The woman smiled when you rested your head on her shoulder, and big green eyes twinkling as she started the man down.

“What were you talking about?” she asked, even though she wasn’t interested in the least. She knew how men were— she suffered their unwanted advances on the daily. It was all an act to get you on their bed.

“Oh,” the man said, clearing his throat. “We were discussing the next chemistry exam—”

“Well, I hope you study hard. Bye.”

You barely had time to close your locker before Jackie was pulling you away from that man.

“Hey— Jackie,” you complained, pulling your books closer to your chest. “What was that for?”

“That boy is a womanizer,” Jackie said through gritted teeth. “He just wanted to get in your panties.”

“You think?” you asked, turning slightly to look at the boy, who was leaning against your locker and staring at you. When he saw you looking back, he smirked and waved. “I think he just wants help studying.”

“You’re too naïve,” the blonde said. “He has tried that same trick with half the school.”

“Really?” you whispered conspicuously. “I thought he was just being friendly.”

Jackie shook her head, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. Her arm was still around you, and it made you walk awkwardly. You still didn’t complain.

“Boys are never friendly just because, Y/N,” she said. “They only got one thing on their mind.”

“Kissing?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

Jackie’s laugh could be heard all around the halls, a melodic sound that carried you out of the building.

“Every year it gets colder earlier,” you complained, shivering slightly.

“Are you cold?” Jackie asked, finally pulling away. You almost moaned in complain at the lack of warmth on your side, but before you could voice your discomfort, a weight was placed on your shoulders.

You looked to your side to see Jackie’s team letterman jacket resting over you. You smiled, putting your books in one hand to put the sleeve on.

“Thank you,” you said, with genuine gratitude. Jackie shook her head, simply reaching over to grab your books so you fully put on the jacket.

“Wanna hang out in the field?” she asked. Once you had the jacket on, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders again, because she wanted to but most importantly, because she could.

“The one time we don’t have to train, and you still wanna go over there,” you rolled your eyes, but followed her steps when she changed course.

She laughed again, turning to look at you. With bright big eyes, and lips pulled into a tight smile, you thought no one would ever be as pretty as she was.

As you walked, Jackie peaked behind you and saw the same man, looking over with frowned eyes. As she heard you talking about your day, she raised her arm enough for everyone to see the back of your jacket, where Taylor stood proudly over her team number.

She’s wearing my jacket, not yours. Dipshit.

To say she was ecstatic at his scolf was an understatement.

Yeah, she thought, let everyone know she only wears my number. Let everyone know she’s mine.

That time, she didn’t try to correct herself.

“I think Jackie has a crush on me.”

Van, who was tying up their cleats, stopped suddenly.

“Uh?” they asked, blinking a few times.

“I—” you cleared your throat, your cheeks suddenly turning red. “I think she might like like me.”

“Oh, shit,” Van said, rubbing their face.

“Did— did I say something wrong?”

“Yes!” Van let go of the laces, irritated. “You weren’t supposed to find out until November. You just lost me ten bucks!” they groaned. “Thanks, buddy.”

“What?” you gave them a puzzling look. “Wait— you have bet on me?”

“No,” Van waved their hands around. “Not on you. On your inability to see what’s happening right in front of your face, to be exact.”

“Okay, rude,” you said. “I’m not that oblivious.”

“Oh, no. Of course not,” Van said. Their tone was laced with sarcasm. “You joined the team two years ago, and only now you have realized.”

“Wait, she has liked me for two years?” you asked in a whisper.

“Duh,” Van gave you a long look. “Jesus, you’re a lost cause.”

“Screw you.”

“What made you realize?” Van asked, with genuine curiosity. They put their feet back down on the ground, leaning over the bench to look at you.

“She, um—” you looked around, making sure no one else was in the changing room. Feeling guilty over spilling such deep secrets, you moved over and sat down next to Van, so no one else would hear. “She kind of lied, the other day. So I wouldn’t have to run around the field.”

“She always lies,” Van scoffed.

“Jackie never lies,” you said, firmly. You gave the redhead a look, one that would have been threatening if it wasn’t coming from you. “She’s an honest person.”

Van chuckled. “She will lie to save your ass,” they said. “Because she’s the fattest crush on you.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

After practice a week later, instead of going back to the changing room with the rest of the team, you grabbed Jackie and pulled at her hand, forcing her to move toward the bleachers. She went willingly, allowing you to take her wherever it was that you wanted her to be.

She would walk through fire if it meant holding your hand.

In a platonic way, of course.

“Jackie,” you said in a serious tone. You took a deep breath, and stared into big green eyes who looked back with passion. “We need to talk.”

She frowned her eyebrows, quickly picking up on your mood swing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, moving closer.

Jackie’s hand rested on your waist when she saw you starting to pull away. She hated it; hated whenever there was distance between the two of you. She wanted you close to her always, holding your hand and laughing with you.

“I think— I think you might be interested in someone.”

Jackie gave you a puzzling look. Her, being into someone? Not a chance.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” She asked, as confused as she has ever been.

“Don’t make me say it, please,” you moaned, like a petulant toddler. “This is embarrassing.”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, can I?”

You looked away from her, incapable of looking into her eyes as you spoke.

“I think I might like someone, too.”

Jackie froze at your words. Her jaw dropped, eyes open so wide it looked like they might jump out of their sockets.

“You…” she gave a bewildered look. “You like someone?”

You nodded, and her hand tightened on your waist, as if she needed some support to keep her from falling over.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered, closing her eyes. You gave her a concerned look.

“Jackie—”

“Is it that boy from the locker? The one who kept trying to flirt with you?”

“No. It’s—” you cleared your throat. “It’s not a boy.”

“Oh, no,” Jackie blinked away the white spots that were starting to form on her vision. “Nat? Tai? Or—” she gasped, looking at you accusingly. “Don’t tell me it’s Shauna.”

“Why would it be— No! It’s not Shauna.”

“It’s not?” she gave you a look. “Thank god.”

“It’s you,” you whispered.

“Me?” Jackie asked, trying to make sure she had heard you properly. “You like me. Me.”

“Yeah. I like you, Jackie.”

She leaned in close to you, looking at your lips. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for her kiss. Instead, you felt her weight over you, literally on you.

“Jackie? Oh my god!”

Safe to say, it took the Yellowjackets over a month to get over the little spectacle you and coach Ben had pulled off when Jackie fainted.

You had wanted to keep it a secret, of course— Class Queen and captain of the football team, fainting because a girl had confessed their feelings to her? The rumor would be too juicy. But you also couldn’t control yourself when Jackie fell on top of you, eyes closed and mouth open, and it took you approximately ten seconds to take all the information in before you were screaming for help.

The help came in the form of Ben, who had come over running. He frantically looked at the team captain, laying on the grass as you fanned her with your hand, and he ran back inside to get Bill’s help.

It didn’t take long for the girls to come out of the changing room, and soon enough they pulled the pieces together; your conversation with Van they had told the entire team (which had led to Tai waving around fifteen ten dollar bills around the showers), your nervous attitude over practice, the tension they had felt before they left the two of you alone…

“Holy shit,” Nat said, smirking as you tried to wake Jackie up. “She fainted. She actually fainted.”

The story soon spread, faster and more explosive than gunpowder around fire. Soon enough, Jackie Taylor’s untaintable reputation got washed away by the new knowledge that she was a hopeless romantic.

Two months later, people would still whisper about Jackie whenever she walked down the corridors of Wiskayok High School.

“You think you will still be Class Queen after… what happened?” you asked, taking notice of how many students were staring at the two of you.

“Of course,” she smiled that charming smile you loved so much. “I’m Jackie Taylor, baby. This highschool would be nothing without me.”

“You’re too full of it,” you rolled your eyes.

She wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you in close to her. She kissed your cheek, smiling.

“It doesn’t bother you?” you asked once you reached your locker. “Y’know, everyone still talking about it?”

“Let them talk. They aren’t mean, anyways,” Jackie said, raising her shoulders. You gave her a look; she would never notice just how many people thought ill of her. She thought too kindly of the world, but that made it two of you. “As long as it makes them talk about how you’re my girlfriend, I don’t care.”

You put the books you no longer needed back into your locker, and once you closed it, she pressed you against it.

When her lips pressed against yours, you stopped worrying about the whispers and the teasing from the team; Jackie was right.

Let them talk.

[moonagedaydreamsofrhiannon]

IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:

Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.

“Travis was sexist.”

Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)

(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)

2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”

Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.

3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”

As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.

4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”

Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.

5. “Travis is a straight man.”

Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)

Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.

So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn��t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.

As for Travis being a man… Is he though???

In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.

Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.

6. Travis is a victim.

I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie, Nat, Tai, and Van) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!

[vevobly]

Yellowjackets Jealousy Headcanons!

A/N: This has you being romantically involved with them in mind, but you can interpret it however you want. Devour and enjoy as always!

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie thrives on attention, especially yours. So when it goes to someone else? Oh boy, you are in big trouble.

Jackie would practically be steaming. Whether you're aware or unaware of what you're doing to her, she'd be pissed.

Her jealousy would be subtle but to those who knew her well, it would be clear as fucking daylights.

Jackie would either resort to making passive aggressive comments or trying to one-up the person she's jealous of.

Like, if someone compliments you too much—she would just appear out of nowhere and insert herself between you guys.

Now, I'm not antagonizing Jackie here! But I fully believe the girl has some sort of popular complexity. So when you hang out with someone she deems "beneath" her social circle, she gets especially jealous.

Shauna Shipman:

Knowing Shauna, her jealousy would definitely be felt more than heard. Oh, and she'd probably bottle it all up until she explodes.

She’ll watch the way you interact with others, her eyes narrowing whenever someone else makes you laugh or smiles at you in a way she doesn’t like.

Shauna won’t confront you directly (unless she's forced into a corner into doing that) about it.

But she will subtly manipulate certain situations so you spend more time alone with her.

Shauna will definitely feel guilty about it. And very insecure at the same time that she'll ask you stuff like — “you’re not… bored of me, right?

Taissa Turner:

Jealousy does not get to Taissa. And if it did, she would not be jealous openly. I mean, she's confident in her relationship with you.

But if someone does start "flirting" with you, she's immediately stepping right in. Cool and collective.

She won't lash out or anything like that, she'll just remind them (and maybe you) who's in charge.

If jealousy really does get to her? She'd just go up to you and discuss it. That's about it.

Unless she's extremely jealous, then she might start controlling your time with other people for a bit. No worries! It won't last for too long.

Van Palmer:

Van would act like she’s all cool with it, but she's not. She would get extremely protective of you in a certain way when she's jealous.

Like, this girl will joke about you “breaking her heart” but also hover near you whenever she senses someone else than her vying for your attention.

Now, Van trusts you. But her insecurities have their own little way of just wiggling into her head, especially when someone attractive or successful tries to get your attention.

She’ll become more affectionate with you, using that to ward off any people trying to make their moves on you.

If you question it, she'll just laugh it off. Insist you're being a little silly because she knows better than anyone else just how much you love her.

Natalie Scatorccio:

Natalie's jealousy is explosive, and she definitely would not try just one tiny bit to hide it at all.

She wouldn't be afraid to confront the person making her jealous. And this girl's anger is not something you want to be directed at you (unless you're into it).

Because Nat's anger comes out in sharp words or her just being destructive.

If you’re being too friendly with someone else; she’ll lash out and tell you “why don’t you just go be with them, then?” — better grovel for her.

Since Nat has issues with being abandoned or betrayed, she'd probably pull back from you emotionally. Just becoming distant or reckless to protect herself from being hurt, especially by you.

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie's jealousy would just be strangely calm. Similar to Jackie and Shauna, she'd be pretty subtle about it.

Like, she'd just give off vibes that make the person making her jealous uncomfortable. Just thus quiet unnerving way of making them back off without saying a word.

With Lottie, I feel like you wouldn't even know she's jealous unless she tells you that herself or you just know her too well to know it.

If the person she's jealous of isn't backing off. One way or another, this girl will stir you away from that person no matter what.

She'll make certain stuff up so you go far from this person. Like someone needing you for something and so.

Laura Lee:

This girl would just be battling her jealousy! Like, she'd try so hard to suppress any feelings of jealousy because she sees them wrong.

But she still can't help it get to her sometimes. She'll feel sad, hurt when someone gets too close to you.

Like, she'll pray for strength and try her best to rationalize her feelings, but then it would still get to her and she'll end up saying stuff like “I guess I’m just not enough for you”

Laura Lee would feel guilty as hell when she's jealous, and when she ends up saying those words to you.

I feel like Laura Lee would be the type to go out of her way to be even kinder and more supportive to you when she feels jealous, just hoping that makes you choose her over anyone else because of how loving and faithful she is to you.

Misty Quigley:

Now this girl, you just don't make her jealous ever, okay? Misty’s jealousy is intense and can literally turn dangerous if it flares up through the skies.

When Misty is jealous, she’ll go to extreme lengths. From manipulating situations to outright sabotaging other people trying to get close with you, she will do anything to get rid of any competition.

This girl would manipulate you so much. Mostly painting herself as a wounded person who has no one else but you.

Misty doesn’t like sharing your attention with anyone else. So when you do, she'll become increasingly clingy and demanding of your time.

If you even start spending too much time with anyone else, she’ll guilt-trip you and say things like “don’t you care about me anymore?”

[rhiannonsknife]

perhaps a scenario where jackie is so overwhelmed by her loneliness on a particularly bad night that she seeks us out for once.

maybe it’s the first time she’s came to us for more than just sex. she just needs a break from the world and the only one she feels that understands is us, no matter how much she wants to pretend we don’t.

she doesn’t go too deep into her feelings because jackie taylor would rather die than be honest about herself, but we at least get to see a more vulnerable side of her for more than a split second.

(also jackie taylor who yearns to be touched in a way that’s out of love rather than lust. jeff touches her all the time but never in the way she wants! he’s always sexual, always defensive over her, always pushing for more. his touch feels more violating and constricting than loving.)

- 🦔

hurt/comfort in the secretly hooking up with jackie taylor universe?? can you believe it??

jackie taylor showing up at your door in the middle of the night is not something you’re used to. not like this, anyway. normally, it’s you sneaking into her bedroom after a party, or sneaking out of it again when she has decided that she’s had enough. it’s her waiting in her car at the end of your driveway, the both of you chasing something thrilling, that neither of you should be doing at all.

tonight is different.

tonight, when jackie knocks, it is soft, hesitant. when you open the door, she stands before you in an oversized sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to her, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

her makeup is smeared, and her usual perfectly curated image is cracked.

“jackie?” you say, your voice still groggy from the sleep she’s interrupted. “what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes darting past you like she’s scanning the hall for someone watching. when she finally meets your gaze again, she asks: “can i come in?”

you step aside without hesitation, closing the door behind jackie as she moves past you. she doesn’t take a seat, doesn’t remove her shoes. instead, she lingers awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“i just-“ jackie stops herself, biting her lip like she’s regretting coming here out of all places. “i needed to get out of there”

“out of where?”

“the house. away from jeff. from everyone. it’s just…too much”

you take a careful step closer. “jackie, what’s going on?”

her jaw tightens, and she looks away, her chin trembling slightly. “it’s nothing, okay?” she says quickly. “i don’t know why i came here!”

you do know why. even if she won’t say it, even if she’ll fight it with all that she’s got. jackie has always been good at wearing masks, at pretending she’s got it all figured out. tonight, she’s raw, exposed in a way she probably hates. and instead of running to jeff or shauna, she came to you.

“jackie,” you say again, taking another step closer. “you don’t have to explain. just…sit down, okay? you don’t have to be anywhere else right now”

she hesitates, still not looking at you, but eventually she sits on the edge of your couch, her posture stiff, like she doesn’t know how to let herself relax. you sit beside her, careful to give her space but close enough that she can feel you there.

for a while, neither of you speaks.

then, slowly, as you give jackie the time she needed, her shoulders slump, the tension seeping out of her frame. she leans back against the couch, her head falling to rest on your shoulder. when you move your hand to hers, gently lacing your fingers together, she doesn’t pull away. jackie exhales a shaky breath, her thumb brushing against yours in slow circles.

“you’re different,” she murmurs after a while. “you don’t…want anything from me”

“what do you mean?”

jackie closes her eyes, her face pinched like she’s warring with herself. “with jeff, with…everyone, it’s always about them. what i can give them. what they need me to be…” her voice cracks, and she pulls her hand away, gripping her knees instead. “with you…it’s different. you don’t push. you just-“ she stops, shaking her head as if saying any more might break her.

you reach out again, resting a hand gently on her knee. “jackie,” you say softly. “you don’t have to be anything for me. i just…i want you to feel okay. that’s all.”

“do you mean that?” she asks quietly.

“of course i do,” you tell her, your voice steady. ypu won’t let this chance to prove yourself to her slide. “you don’t have to pretend with me, jackie. not tonight”

or ever, you want to say, but you don’t want to scare jackie off.

her breathing hitches anyway. she doesn’t cry, not yet, but you can tell she’s close to the edge of a breakdown she’s too proud to let you see.

she avoids your gaze as she tries to keep it together. “this is so stupid,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine, okay? just- just forget it”

you couldn’t ‘forget it’ if you tried.

“come here,” you say gently, brushing your thumb over her knuckles.

jackie hesitates, her brows knitting together. “what?”

“come here,” you repeat, softer this time, tugging her hand lightly. “let’s just…lay down for a bit. you don’t have to talk. just let me hold you, okay?”

her face twists, expression caught somewhere between defiance and embarrassment. “i don’t need-“ jackie stops, swallowing hard.

“you don’t have to need it,” you tell her, your voice steady but warm. “just let me do it anyway”

there’s a long pause where jackie seems to weigh her options. then, finally, she exhales, a shaky, broken sound that makes your chest ache. she doesn’t say anything as she nods, just barely, but it’s enough for you to guide her gently to the couch, lying down first and opening your arms for her.

for a second, she lays unmoving before she curls into your side, her head resting against your chest. as you run a soothing hand down her back, the tension slowly begins to ebb away.

“this is…” jackie starts, her voice muffled against your shirt. she trails off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “i don’t know how to do this,” she admits after a moment, so quietly you almost don’t hear her.

“do what?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her shoulder blade.

“this,” she repeats, gesturing vaguely. “just…being close to someone like this. without it meaning something else”

it’s not hard to imagine what she means; jeff, with his hands always possessive, always wanting more. people who only ever see her as a trophy, as something to take rather than someone to cherish. time and time again, the fact that you could be somebody to do better for her has broken you. now, for the first time, a part of her had known that. the part that made her show up to your doorstep in the middle of the night.

“you’re doing fine,” you tell her, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

as the minutes pass, jackie’s breathing evens out, the rise and fall of her chest syncing with your own. you keep your arms around her, your hand stroking her back in a steady rhythm until your hand grows too heavy to move it, until your lashes flutter shut. the quiet comfort of her warmth against you lulls you into a sleep you didn’t even realize you needed. the first sleep with jackie to your chest.

when you wake up, the sunlight is streaming softly through the curtains. you blink groggily, your fingers searching for the warmth of jackie’s body on the couch cushion by your side. that’s when you realize she’s gone.

the space beside you on the couch is empty, but the blanket draped over your shoulders wasn’t there before. you sit up slowly, the ache of disappointment impossible to ignore, but then your eyes catch something on the coffee table.

a note.

it’s written on the back of an old receipt, the ink smudged slightly at the edges, but the handwriting unmistakably jackie’s.

i’m sorry i left early. i didn’t want to wake you. thanks for last night. for everything. - j

at the bottom, there’s a tiny heart drawn hastily next to her initials. it’s small, almost insignificant, but it makes your chest ache in the way only jackie taylor ever could.

it’s not a grand gesture or a declaration of love. it’s subtle, restrained. so jackie. still, it’s enough. it’s a reminder that even if she keeps running, even if she never fully lets you in, she sees you. jackie needs you, in her own way, even if she’s too scared to say it outright.

you set the note down gently, brushing your fingers over the paper. for one fleeting night, she let herself be real with you. for one night, she couldn’t hide how much she wants to be loved.

the hope that maybe, one of these nights, she’ll stop running altogether, is exactly why you stay.

[kanencrow]

The Father who Stepped up - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: When Shauna gives birth to her baby boy, she finds herself designating you as 'the father who stepped up' after she experiences first-hand how nurturing you are to something so innocent and defenseless. It helps her simultaneously come to terms with the fact that she's a mother, and it also allows her to realize that she's actually kind of into you, too.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes, Descriptions of Cannibalism, Talks of Jackie’s Death.

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default, and the reader is gender neutral (no pronouns were used). I'm tempted to do a part two that consists of more domestic stuff amongst you and Shauna because I don't think I added as much I could've in this one shot, but I'm not sure if anyone would want that, so let me know in my inbox!

Word Count: 10000+

It’s like clockwork for Shauna.

She wakes up every single night, at a time where the sun is completely gone, and the room she’s been cooped up in after giving birth is pitch black. Even the illumination of the moon doesn’t peek through the window, and so it only makes it more difficult for her to function when the almost habitual crying of her son sounds off the moment she preemptively wakes up. It’s gotten to a point where her body naturally rouses a few minutes before the baby starts to fuss – like it just knows that her time for sleep is going to get interrupted. It only makes her all the more frustrated and sad, because she values her rest, and she feels that no one wants to take the time to help her care for him.

Shauna’s sleep deprived and grumpy, even as she gathers her aching body and slowly gets up from the bed she’s practically been rotting on for the past few days. Bearing a child with a body that was weak from malnutrition and lack of water was far worse than any traumatic thing she had gone through in the past. So she can’t help the way she groans and whines while she walks over to the makeshift crib you and Van had put together using sticks, leaves, and rocks. It was a nice gift from the two of you, since it gave her a place to put the baby, just so there wasn’t that worry of rolling on top of him while she slept in bed. 

And sure, it made her have to get up more than she wanted, but the thought of losing her son because she wasn’t careful was something that didn’t sit right in her chest. She’d been meaning to thank you and Van for the thoughtfulness, but both of you had been so busy with chores around the cabin – and she could barely walk as is – so it just made the entire task all the more difficult. But with the way neither one of you looked expectant in receiving that form of appreciation, there was a part of her that didn’t find herself rushing in trying to convey how she felt towards the gesture. 

Using it was thanks in itself, right?

She expected the baby to start crying the moment she made it to said crib, but all she got as she rested her hands at the edge of the makeshift bed was complete and utter radio silence. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart jumps to her throat, a rush of anxiety coursing through her like a lightning bolt as the thought of him being dead enters her mind, and when she reaches down into the cradle – only to feel nothing but the blanket she laid out for him – it only forces her worry to skyrocket. Maybe she’s dreaming again, having some sort of nightmare about her boy dying, but she can feel the blanket – the soft fleece against her fingertips, so she knows she’s not asleep.

So, of course, that makes Shauna wonder. Where the fuck is her baby? 

There’s that flash of an image that courses through her mind – a reminder of one of the night terrors she had in regards to her baby boy just a couple days ago. How she heard his screams and his cries, only to find him being used as everyone’s form of satiation. She remembers their blood smeared faces and red teeth as they chewed and chewed and chewed–

“Shauna?” 

It’s like a bullet shoots through her back the moment she hears the softness of your voice fill the otherwise silent air of the cabin. It’s muffled at first, like she’s stuck in a bubble, but then her brain fully snaps out of the weird stupor she found herself in – the one full of fear and anxiety and distrust – and that’s when she suddenly recognizes the incoherent coo of her baby. You took him, she thinks to herself, and there’s a subtle emotion of anger and discontent towards that fact, but she also knows you – even if you haven’t talked to her nearly as much as the others have. Though even then, she knows that you wouldn’t do any of what her mind previously conjured up through dreams and intrusive thoughts. 

That’s all it is. Her mind. Playing tricks on her.

Because you’re kind, you’re careful – gentle – and, even if she didn’t think so when she first woke up, you’re sure as hell one of the only people who’s put in a valiant effort in trying to help her. Both throughout her pregnancy, and even now. Unlike Lottie, who acted like the biological father and insisted that her own child was some sort of incoming prophet, that he was going to change everything. But then you just stuck around, acting as some sort of safety net for her when she needed someone or something to fall back on. Because after losing Jackie, everything felt broken, like a train had gone off the rails and there was no way of pushing it back on track. 

But then you wiggled your way in, through soft words and empathetic or sympathetic glances, and she found herself letting you step through the tiny door of her heart. Because even though the thought of anyone seeing her as weak or incapable of taking care of herself made her want to recoil and die, she couldn’t deny that she needed it, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted you of all people to help her. And maybe that didn’t entirely sit well in her stomach for a good while – or even now, for that matter. That feeling of distrust towards everyone weighed her down, but you were insistent – in a good way, and so she found herself slowly getting over her own fear for the sake of eventually letting you in.

So she should have known you had taken him.

She forgot. 

She could only blame that on her fatigue. 

By the time Shauna turned around to look at you, the baby emitted a quiet coo, as his tiny hands reached up and grabbed at your fingers that you blindly wiggled down at him with your free limb. You were cradling him with your left arm, his head propped up by your bicep as he kicked his feet in the form of a stretch, but you were far more focused on the brunette before you, who looked completely distracted. It was hard to see her, but with the moon having peeked out from behind the trees it was once hiding behind, there was a slight glow on her face, which allowed you to take in the way she stood frozen in her stance and just… stared at you and her kid. 

The little baby in your arms was none the wiser, clearly in his element and content with using your fingers as his own personal form of entertainment. It helped you focus entirely on Shauna, though, when you tilted your head to the side slightly and spoke up, letting your voice break through the long-standing silence that almost suffocated the air. “You okay?” It was a simple question, but it held meaning, an intention, with the way your tone portrayed a genuineness to it. You were curious – maybe concerned, she wasn’t sure, but when you stepped forward slightly, trying to act as a form of comfort, it helped her confirm the fact that you weren’t putting on a facade, just to make her feel like she mattered. 

You actually do think she matters. 

She realized that, even with how slow her mind was being. 

“I was looking for him,” Shauna managed to utter. The response was sudden, and it almost made you flinch with how she didn’t really try to whisper amongst the two of you. But you weren’t offended, or mad for that matter. Just surprised, if not a little endeared by her lack of thoughtfulness. Because you know she’s tired, and you know that if she was wide awake, she probably would have actually put in an effort in keeping her voice down for the sake of not waking anyone up, or rousing the boy in your arms into a state of panic. But luckily, he’s clueless, stuck in his own little world that consisted of him holding your fingers like they were joysticks to an atari. 

“He’s right here,” you quietly assured, after a moment, as you settled your palm against his tiny belly and allowed him to lift your fingers up and down. He was so small, only about a week old, but for such a young little guy, he had been pretty responsive. “I noticed that you haven’t been getting any sleep ever since he came into the world,” you added on, shrugging your shoulders subtly, while Shauna shifted her eyes away from your own to stare down at the baby boy, who struggled to stay awake, as you bounced him slightly in your arms. His eyelids fluttered, and his stubby legs stretched out to hang off either side of your forearm, while you let out the softest huff you could muster, and continued. “I couldn’t sleep tonight, so I wanted to help.” 

Shauna hears your words, and she quickly takes them to heart, which causes her brow to furrow in thought, before she lifts her brown eyes away from her son to look up at you instead. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told you, as though she were almost scolding you. But you could only shrug her off with a shake of your head, knowing that she was just saying that to make herself seem stronger. Which – she was strong – but she also didn’t have to be. 

Not for this, at least. 

“I wanted to,” you quietly mumbled, as you stepped closer to her and sent her a small smile through the darkness of the room. You weren’t even sure if she could see the expression on your face, but you didn’t seem to find it in you to care, when you maneuvered past her and lowered the already sleeping child back into the crib. It forced Shauna to turn her body and watch you, and as you cradled his head and guided it to rest on the little bump underneath the blanket you were laying him onto, it caused her stomach to unintentionally flutter.

She wasn’t surprised that you were so delicate with the boy. Still, it managed to push her into a state of awe, as you slipped your hands out from underneath his body and stood back up to your full height. Through the darkness, she could see the way you stared down at him, admiring the way he peacefully spread out across the blanket, like a little starfish. And his fingers curling into fists were enough to convey to you that he had fully fallen asleep. It meant that your work in helping Shauna rest was done, and as you nodded to yourself and stepped back from the crib to silently make your leave, the brunette ended up reaching out and grabbing a hold of your wrist. 

It was surprising to her that you were thinking of leaving without saying anything, but after spending so many months with you in the wilderness, she guessed that she couldn’t be shocked. You’ve always been quiet, always kept to yourself and spoke to others only when they would speak to you. But that was a while back. Now you seemed a little more outgoing, but there was still a subtle shyness to you. Especially with the way you tensed slightly at her touch, and slowly turned around to look at her, as though you thought you were in trouble. However, you weren’t, and you seemed to recognize that when her fingers tightened slightly to squeeze your joint.

“Thank you,” Shauna stated, “really.”

You replied back with a simple nod and a sheepish smile. And that was when she let go of your wrist and allowed you to take a few steps towards the door and exit the room. And even then, you were as quiet as a mouse and mindful of the resting boy in the crib, and she couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way about you in turn.

It was a good feeling, though.

—————————————————————————

It was the crackling of the fireplace that acted as a form of ambiance to your mind, as you reclined along the window-side seat and stared out through the pane of glass. Your legs remained stretched out in front of you, socked feet moving mindlessly back and forth, while the incoherent murmurs of your teammates sounded off throughout the rest of the cabin, accompanying the resonation of wood crackling under intense heat. Snow fell from outside, coating the ground in even more of the white powder that had been nothing but unforgiving for the past two months, and you couldn’t help but wish for spring to come soon because of it.

There was a feeling that settled inside of your chest – intuition – that told you it was going to eventually melt away. Considering how often the sun had come out as of recent, it made sense. But for now, it was still cold, and you were more than happy to stay inside and admire the outer world from the comfort of the building you’ve been living in. Especially after spending the majority of the day doing chores, chopping wood that you took from the meat shed or shoveling the porch with the intention of keeping you and everyone else from being snowed in. Again. 

Your cheeks felt frozen by the time you stepped back inside of the cabin, but at least the fireplace was roaring with life, and at least Misty was there to give you a hot cup of water. She always made sure to do her part, and whether it was by helping or speaking up to give some sort of logical statement towards a certain idea or discussion, you appreciated her… quirks and all. And, sure, you would have definitely preferred hot chocolate or tea when she did gift you the treat, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so you found yourself feeling thankful either way. 

“My god, can you just stop squirming, please?” 

Mari’s voice managed to break out amongst the rest of the softer sounds that echoed throughout the cabin, and just from the frustration in her voice, you could tell that she was the one who had been tasked with taking care of the baby. Even after months of him being alive, Shauna still hadn’t named him, and a part of you was convinced she never would, with how her features always shifted into an expression of melancholy and deep, intense thought whenever she scrutinized the face of her child. You could understand that she was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was a mom, and although you kept a respectful distance – not wanting to push anything or cross a boundary, you did want to help.

You had, in ways that consisted of making sure he didn’t keep her up at night with his crying. You were more than willing to deprive yourself of sleep for the sake of Shauna having her beauty rest, and it wasn’t like the little dude disliked you or anything. He always seemed happy to be in your arms when you paid him a late night visit and moved out of the brunette’s room to go and sit by the window bench. That spot always gave you front row seats to the moon and the way it shined through to act as his personal nightlight, and you cherished the moment, all while you slowly rocked him back to sleep with his head against your chest. But that was really the extent of your aid, other than feeding him or keeping an eye on him when no one else could. 

But you did find yourself curious as to what Mari was doing. Especially with the way she huffed and puffed about the baby boy and his desire to wiggle like that of a worm. The thought of him giving her a hard time made you sneakily smirk to yourself as you swung your legs off the bench, and the moment you turned your body to look towards the kitchen, you stood up to your full height, all while your eyes caught sight of the girl trying to put a – poorly made – knitted hat on his head. You weren’t sure who made it, but it certainly didn’t look like something someone would wear. And if they did… they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make it look good. 

Even if it was on someone as cute as Shauna’s son.

He was sitting on the table, and with the way he let out a little whine and grumpily swung his arms up and down, you could tell that he didn't want the hat on his head. But Mari was incessant, muttering something about how it’ll keep him warm, and you could only roll your eyes, as you walked towards the kitchen and scrutinized the scene with an intention of saving the little boy from the girl’s control. Which seemed to go as well as it could, when she eventually lifted her focus away from him and looked at you instead, noticing your presence the moment the floor creaked beneath your feet. It didn’t take her long to let out a huff, before she picked up the baby by his waist and held him out to you as though he was some sort of toy. 

“Here, take him,” Mari grumbled, “I can’t deal with it anymore.” Her patience was practically nonexistent, which wasn’t something you were ignorant to. You remembered the time where she almost strangled Travis because he wouldn’t stop complaining the first week you and everyone else crash-landed in the middle of the forest, so it wasn’t surprising that she was experiencing it in the current moment. Granted, you couldn’t necessarily blame her, but maybe she wasn’t the best person to rely on when it came to babysitting Shauna’s kid. 

So, you were swift in reaching up and pulling the boy into the comfort of your arms, before you settled him onto your hip, and when he immediately rested his head onto your shoulder and tightened his fingers to ball up the fabric of your Wiskayok Yellowjackets hoodie, you felt your heart swell in your chest, discreetly relishing in the way he seemed so comfortable with you. Mari even seemed to don an expression of surprise herself – with a mixture of jealousy – too, when her eyes glanced down to look at the boy, who made a point to direct his attention somewhere else, as though he was holding a grudge against the girl in front of you. 

Like mother, like son, you think.

It was kind of an amusing sight, and you found yourself huffing lightheartedly, as you cradled his butt with your limbs and spoke up. “I don’t think that hat fits him, by the way.” You gave her a teasing look, only to glance down at the child in your hold for the sake of making sure he was okay. And he was, with the way his eyes were now closed, all while he breathed contently against your collarbone and continued to grip the fabric of your hoodie like a lifeline. 

“He was just being difficult,” Mari mumbled, seemingly ignoring your statement and deeming it as incorrect, while she folded her arms over her chest and moved her eyes down to look at the boy, too. “It would’ve fit if he just stopped moving.” 

You found yourself humming at her words, but the sound was entirely mindless, “Whatever you say.” It wasn’t long before you turned your head away from her and took a moment to glance around the vicinity of the cramped cabin. There was an intent in the action, and when you didn’t find who you were subconsciously looking for, you allowed your eyes to fall back onto Mari, while you sent her a look of wonder. “Do you know where Shauna is?”

“Why?” Mari uttered, a certain glint of… something you couldn’t entirely decrypt suddenly forming in her brown eyes, but when the corner of her lip curled up into a smirk, it gave you the slightest inkling that she was finding your question comical. “Miss her?” And you came out to be correct, which made you immediately scoff at her question, and it only caused that small smile to break out into a grin on her cheeks, “What? Don’t act like you haven’t been trying to worm your way into her heart,” she said, “you’re almost worse than Lottie. With her whole ‘our baby’ thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help her out,” you stated, as you bashfully lowered your eyes, pretending to be occupied with the baby in your arms, who continued to rest comfortably within them. “It’s not easy being a single mom, and I don’t think Lottie’s whole ‘your baby is the key to make the wilderness happy’ bit is really helpful, either,” you added on, as heat rose to your cheeks at the distant thought of being perceived as some sort of lap dog for Shauna. And, granted, your valiant effort to defend her definitely didn’t help your case, but you couldn’t help it, considering the fact that Lottie had been a little… off ever since the baby boy was born. 

You weren’t unaware of the way she would just stare at you whenever you carried Shauna’s son. It was hard to understand if she was jealous of the sight, or if she had something on her mind and simply didn’t know how to address it. But maybe you were also overthinking it, and honestly, you couldn’t – and didn’t necessarily want to – bring yourself to think about it in the current moment, which caused you to quietly clear your throat, before you stepped back and gently hoisted the boy in your arms up to rest more comfortably on your hip. “Where’s Shauna?” you questioned again.

“I don’t know.” Mari shrugged, “Not here, clearly.”

Always the smartass, you thought to yourself, before you rolled your eyes and let out a heavy breath. It wasn’t long before you turned around and walked away from Mari, successfully deeming her as the most unhelpful person in the group, and you ultimately decided to search for Shauna on your own. The only place you could think she would be was the single bedroom within the cabin, and so you found yourself padding in that direction unconsciously, which caused the boy in your arms to tighten his grip on your hoodie, due to your movement. You weren’t even sure if she was going to be in there, but it was the only idea you had when it came to where she might have been, and so you went with the idea, secretly hoping you’d come out to be right. 

The murmurs of the rest of the group ended up disappearing by the time you eventually turned the corner and made it to the door, and when you noticed it slightly ajar, you didn't think anything of it, as you pressed on and pushed it open. It creaked, signifying its age, and you winced, as you glanced down at the baby in your arms, hoping that the high-pitch resonation didn’t stir him from his slumber. You were thankful, though, when all you received in return was a tiny grunt from him that portrayed his unconscious state, and it quelled the worry of possibly waking him up. His features were still relaxed, stuck deep in dreamland while he slightly drooled on your hoodie, and with a small smile at the sight, you lifted your head up to look forward.

You immediately froze in your place when your eyes fell onto Shauna.

The last thing you expected to see was her back, which was covered in nothing but the strap of her charcoal-colored bra and showing off her pallid skin-tone that was complimented by the few freckles that adorned it. They scattered across the expanse of her flesh like stars in the sky, and your pupils naturally flickered back and forth to admire each one. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, with the way your breath silently hitched in your throat, and a weight of something you couldn’t describe settled within your stomach. It wasn’t a negative feeling by any means, but you couldn’t deny the way you felt like some sort of pervert for having waltzed in without so much as knocking. 

You found yourself regretting your actions, though there was no way for you to rewind time or pretend like you had never stepped into the room to begin with. Especially when Shauna seemingly sensed your presence, as though she had some sort of sixth sense, and slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder, peering at you with a form of curiosity in her brown eyes. You stood there, all the while, probably looking like an idiot, with the way you stared at her with a wide gaze and held her child in your arms stiffly. But you couldn’t find it in you to consciously assess how odd you might have come across. All you could do was stutter out some sort of apology, as you parted your lips and felt your stomach leap to your throat. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to just – uh…” 

Your voice trailed, and there was a certain air to Shauna’s demeanor that kept you from continuing, when you saw the ghost of an endeared smile fall onto her lips, before she turned back around and reached down to grab an old black band t-shirt that was tattered and had clearly seen better days. You remained idle in your spot, standing in front of the door as though you were a deer stuck in a pair of headlights, and as you dumbly watched the brunette pull the top over her head and allow it to fall down to cover her torso, there was a subtle feeling of disappointment that filled your chest. 

But you attempted to ignore it, while you swallowed and waited for her to reply. 

“Knocking exists, you know,” she uttered quietly, as she slowly turned around to completely face you, and lowered herself to sit down on the bed she had originally grabbed her shirt from. There was a subtle tone of lightheartedness in her voice, but you still felt embarrassment fill your body, as she gave you a tired, teasing look with her brown eyes and tilted her head to the side slightly. She clearly wasn’t offended by your intrusion, much to your own surprise, and that was when you found the ability to move your legs again, when you took a short step forward and bowed your head apologetically. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I should’ve…” 

Shauna shook her head and shrugged, “It’s fine.” 

You decided to keep your lips tightly wound after her response, pressing them together tightly, and you treaded carefully as you sluggishly walked further into the room. Your legs kicked out slightly as you moved, and your eyes flickered around to take in the vicinity that you had found yourself in far more than you probably should have. Ever the conversationalists, neither one of you knew what to say next. Should you have said, ‘hey, here’s your baby,’ as though you were some pizza delivery person? That probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, considering he wasn’t food. But you didn’t know what else to do, except sit down beside her and silently hand her the child…

But even then, that didn’t feel right.

“Is he sleeping?” 

Shauna’s question broke through your muddled thoughts, and you found yourself immediately letting out a quiet breath of relief in turn, which was something you hoped she didn’t hear. When your eyes moved away from a random wall inside the room to meet her brown ones again, it didn’t seem like she picked up on the sound you made, when she simply stared at you with a certain type of earnestness that left you feeling warm inside. Her unwavering gaze after she inquired was enough to create a ball inside of your throat, and you found yourself trying to force it down with a swallow, as you slowly looked back down at the boy in your arms and nodded. 

“Yeah,” you affirmed, “he is.” Your verbal confirmation was the last thing you said, before you eventually made it close to her bed and sat down beside her. The mattress barely dipped with how firm and old it was, but you could still see the way she faintly jostled from the added weight, out of the corner of your eye. You found yourself focusing entirely on her son, though, when you gently maneuvered him in your arms and cradled him like he was a week old again. He was still light, easy to hold without feeling as though your limbs were about to fall off, but his hair had grown in, and it was blond. 

A dirty blond. 

His eyes were brown, though, and his nose looked like it was going to develop into a shape like Shauna’s, the older he got. That cute, slightly imperfect bridge that you always admired whenever you caught sight of the brunette’s side profile. His round face and little lips looked just like hers as well, and you found yourself fascinated and almost amused at how he barely looked like Jeff. Even with the blond hair that hadn’t fully grown in yet and made the little boy look like an old man who was balding. It was surreal, in a way. How the girl beside you had managed to create such a beautiful soul through an ongoing situation that left all of you feeling hopeless and dreadful. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It was the words of Shauna again that tugged you out of your daydream. You found yourself blinking a few times, and when you slowly pulled your eyes away from her son to gaze at her, she was already staring at you, looking into your irises with her brown ones that the baby in your arms carried, too. You had to stop yourself from admiring other parts of her face for the sake of conveying to her that you were listening, and when you mindlessly creased your brow in confusion towards her apology, she took that as her chance to continue, as she scooted closer to you and flickered her focus down towards the child you were holding. 

“I haven’t really been present,” she explained, clarifying herself, with a tone that conveyed shame, “for him.” You glanced down at her mouth for a split second, taking in the way that they were chapped and had dried-up blood on them, which you realized must have been from her anxiously nipping at her lips. Not only that, but it was also the winter, so you weren’t surprised, but even with the sight that didn’t necessarily look pleasant, you still found your stomach fluttering, before you shifted your attention back up to meet her gaze once again. 

You inevitably shook your head, finding your voice, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I know things have been… hard, for you.” It was difficult to know what to say to help her feel better, but you put in a valiant effort to tread lightly, which seemed to work in your favor, when she slowly deflated and decided to lean closer to you and lower her head against your shoulder. The heavy sigh she let out shortly after was enough to convey that she’d been needing some form of comfort, and although you tensed slightly, you let her have it, as you continued and glanced down at the baby in your arms. “It’s not easy having a kid and then being expected to take care of it after everything that’s happened.”

“I did it to myself,” Shauna mumbled, as she pressed her thigh against yours and mindlessly plucked at the fabric of her t-shirt, “I shouldn’t have meddled with my best friend's love life.” Even with being trapped in the wilderness, there was still a certain air of intelligence in the way she spoke, and you couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip curled up, as you slowly nodded your head in response to her statement. “Now I’m paying for it.” Her tone was dry, ultimately, and you weren't sure if it was because of the fact that she didn’t have it in her to be sad about what happened, or if she was simply angry at herself now, for what she did. 

“At least he doesn’t look like Jeff,” you replied quietly, trying to lighten the mood in your own way, which caused Shauna to scoff dryly, as she pressed her cheek deeper into your shoulder and stared down at the sleeping boy in your arms. “Clearly your genes are stronger.” 

The conversation lulled slightly, but you weren’t surprised, when Shauna silently reached her hand out and wiped her thumb over the corner of her baby’s mouth. Dried spit, you realized, was what she was trying to make disappear, and it reminded you of the little stain you had on your hoodie from his drool, which created an emotion of amusement that fluttered through your chest as you watched her gently tend to her kid. It wasn’t a common occurrence. It was like she was scared to touch him, or hold him, or even be in a room alone with him. But at the same time, she was equally protective. She had mixed feelings, obviously, and you had a feeling as to why that was.

And you didn’t want to bring it up.

But it was nice to see her attentiveness, even if it was something that was short-lived, when she inevitably pulled her hand back from his face, and let it fall onto her lap. “I haven’t even named him,” she suddenly stated, and when you turned your head slightly to look down at her, she pulled her cheek away from your shoulder and sat back up to stare down at the floor between her legs. “I don’t even know how to be a mom,” she added on, and you frowned faintly, before you slowly stood up to your full height and ambled over to the boys’ crib, letting her words drift off into the air, while you settled him against the makeshift bed you and Van created for him, and tucked him under a shirt that acted as a blanket for his small body.

“No one does at first,” you eventually replied, pulling your hands away from him, before you stepped back from the crib and turned around to look at Shauna, who bounced her knee up and down anxiously, not meeting your gaze. “No one gives you a rule book on how to be a parent, Shauna,” you reminded her, “it’s not easy… but that’s why we’re here–” 

“You.” 

Shauna’s mumble cut you off, and you paused to scrutinize her, “What?” 

“You’re here,” she said, as she slowly lifted her head up to meet your eyes, “not them.” Your features faintly flinched in surprise, and when you shifted in your stance and shoved your hands into the pockets of your pajama pants that were just as tattered as all your other clothes, she continued. “You’ve been the only one who’s, like… actually helped me ever since I had him,” she explained, “I mean, other than Van, who helped make the crib with you, you’ve been here to take care of him, while I’ve just…” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged her shoulders, clearly at a loss for what else to say. 

“You’ve got other stuff to deal with,” you uttered, trying to defend her from herself. 

But Shauna shook her head, while you slowly trailed back towards the bed and watched her intently. “Like wallowing and resenting my own child who hasn’t done anything to deserve it?” You let out a deep breath when you turned around and lowered yourself to sit down beside her, and as your brow creased into a look of thought, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’ve been the worst mom – you’re more of a parent than I am–” 

“Shauna, stop,” you stated, shaking your head, before you looked at her and watched the way she pulled her face out of her hands and sighed shakily, “you’re not a bad mom,” you told her, “I mean… it’s normal to feel like shit after giving birth,” you added on, with the intention of making her feel less guilty, “postpartum depression is a thing, and you’re probably dealing with that on top of… y’know.” Shauna’s brow furrowed at your words, and when she shifted her brown eyes to meet yours, you could tell she was confused by how you knew that, which caused you to quickly clarify, as you shrugged. “I paid attention in health class.”

“Of course you did,” Shauna laughed out, her voice thick with emotion, as she shook her head and smiled sadly at your words. You chuckled quietly in response to her reaction, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest towards the fact that you made her giggle, but when she sniffled and glanced down to stare at a certain spot on your face, you felt your heart leap to your throat. “How come we never really talked… before all of this?” she questioned suddenly, as her pupils fluttered back up to meet your gaze, not allowing you the chance to truly dwell on the subtle action, “We were on the same team, yet we barely ever spoke to each other.” 

“Was kinda intimidated by you, actually,” you mumbled sheepishly, which caused her to give you an expression of disbelief, clearly unable to understand what might have been so scary about her. And it caused you to shrug your shoulders, as you shyly turned your head away and stared down at your lap, suddenly feeling small. Like you were exposed entirely. “I don’t know… I always wanted to talk to you, but I just… couldn’t?” You pursed your lips and pressed your palms together, and when you intertwined your fingers, you felt your cheeks heat up as you breathed in deeply and confessed through an exhale, “Guess I was just too scared to talk to a girl that I thought was pretty.” 

At your words, Shauna could only stare at you, her brown eyes focusing on the defined features of your side profile and the way you clenched your jaw tightly out of nervousness, as you stared contemplatively at the floor. Your nostrils flared with a breath, and her heart thudded against her ribcage once that only signified the way your words made her feel. It was a random beat at first, but then it happened again, and again, and again. It cemented her feelings – the way you had secretly made her feel over the span of two months hitting her like an unforgiving truck, and it caused her to swallow thickly, as she broke her focus away from your face and gazed down at your hands instead. 

She wasn’t sure what to say, and it was obvious that the silence that ensued wasn’t one that made either one of you feel comfortable. You shifted awkwardly in your spot, your face feeling flush, while Shauna lost herself in her own mind and continued to stare down at your interwoven fingers. It felt as though you were sixteen again, dealing with your first crush and experiencing mental gymnastics when it came to how you were going to confess that you liked the person you had eyes for. And granted, you were older now, but after spending… however many months in the wilderness, it felt like your social skills had vanished, and you were left ignorant again. 

As well as a fool that had no grasp on how to say, ‘I like you’ to a cute girl.

It felt like hours had passed – when in actuality it was a minute, before you eventually cleared your throat awkwardly and lifted your chin to allow your eyes to shift away from the floor and towards Shauna’s instead. Your lips parted, as if to try and say something – or to defend yourself for what you had already stated – but nothing came out. And while the brunette seemed to find herself frozen in the way she continued to gaze down at your tense hands, you studied her expression, noticing how her features were taut with contemplation and something deeper, but indecipherable.

“I’m sorry.” 

You suddenly apologized, without thinking, and when your voice – soft throughout the air – broke through the clouded thoughts of Shauna’s mind, that was when she blinked and jolted back into reality. Her brown eyes snapped up to your face, feeling them sting with unshed tears, and your brow furrowed to express your genuine guilt for making her feel uncomfortable. But she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just… shocked. And confused. Because she had always been used to being second best, or stuck in the shadow of someone who was deemed as far more important than she ever could be. But even when Jackie was alive and she was actively experiencing the woes of being ‘the sidekick’ and ‘just the best friend,’ you still noticed her.

Still saw her as Shauna Shipman. 

Not Jackie’s best friend.

And it made her angry that you waited so fucking long to say something. 

To give her any sort of idea that you liked her.

Maybe it was the postpartum hormones that made Shauna swell with a mixture of frustration and sadness, or maybe it was just her, and it had nothing to do with the after effects of her giving birth. Either way, you saw a tear slip from the corner of her brown eye, and she could feel the salty droplet and the way it streaked down her cheek in an almost poetically depressing way. It only caused your breath to hitch in your throat, the guilt in your chest increasing drastically, and when you tried to reach your hand up to wipe away the stain, she grabbed your wrist, halting your movement, just as your fingers grazed over the skin of her face. 

“Shit, I’m sorry–” 

Ever the apologist, Shauna cut you off before you could complete your sentence, when she pushed your wrist down to pin it against your lap and suddenly leaned forward to press her lips against your own. The action was done with a swiftness that left your mind reeling and your body tensing as your body leaned back slightly, but when she unconsciously squeezed your joint that she held onto like a lifeline, you snapped out of your shock. The roughness of her mouth – chapped and dry – against your own, wasn’t unwanted. Especially not when you had been wanting to kiss her for the past year and a half. So it only made sense to relax into it, when you breathed out through your nose and allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

You promptly followed her lead, creating a game that consisted of her pushing and you pulling, as your lips parted to slot together like a perfect puzzle piece. Her grip tightened on your joint all the more, and although her fingernails lightly dug into your skin, it wasn’t enough to get you to move away from her. If anything, it urged you closer to her, when you reached up with your free hand and cupped her cheek. Your mouths moved together, quiet sounds of them smacking together intermixing with the soft breaths that the two of you let out, and before you could even realize what was happening, you were being pushed back against the firm mattress, which allowed her to pin your wrist she grasped above your head, while your other palm fell away from her face to rest against your stomach. 

Shauna pulled her lips away from you in that same moment, and when you let out a quiet pant and fluttered your eyes open, she was already looking down at you with a certain emotion in her brown irises. You weren’t sure what it meant, but with how hazy your mind felt, and with how quick your heart thumped inside of your chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to grow concerned. Especially not with the way she loomed over you, and allowed her fingers to finally loosen around your wrist. Your focus shifted in turn, to watch her as she slid them up and over your palm, before they curled between your own and eventually intertwined in a way that felt like a perfect fit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” you mumbled, after a moment, as your eyes shifted back to meet the brunette’s. But Shauna could only shake her head dismissively, not wanting to talk about feelings, before she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again. 

You immediately reciprocated that time, no longer hesitant to succumb to the concept of loving her, and when you happily hummed against her mouth, she felt her stomach flip, as a weight of tension slipped off of her shoulders.

Just like water. 

—————————————————————————

There was something oddly therapeutic about the sounds of a baby giggling. The belly laughs that were infectious and left anyone who heard them grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. That may or may not have been you in the current moment, as you watched as Shauna blew raspberries into her boys’ belly from where he laid on her bed. His arms and legs swung back and forth to signify just how ticklish her actions had made him, and you felt your heart swell with affection towards the two, while you watched her pull herself up to look down at him with an expression on her face that conveyed nothing but admiration and love towards the child. 

She named him Jackson.

Because although she had her own personal qualms about Jackie, the thought of forgetting her like a distant memory wasn’t something Shauna could ever fathom, and you couldn’t blame her for it. You remembered having the conversation with her, shortly after you and her started dating, and you were all for it, because you knew how much she loved her best friend, even if the last time they spoke didn’t end on the best terms. She saw it as a form of an apology, in her own way. And although you didn’t fully understand – not nearly as well as she did – you went along with it, because it was her choice in the end, and there was no way in hell you were going to control what she did. 

Besides, Jackson was a cute name. 

It fit him. 

You snapped back into reality when a little fist smacked against your cheek, and you were quick to jolt back slightly, as you blinked and looked down at Jackson, who clearly wasn’t aware of what he had just done. He was far too focused on Shauna tickling his sides teasingly, and when he let out a high-pitch squeal as she picked him up, you chuckled softly, before your eyes flickered up to look at your girlfriend, who seemed a lot happier than two months ago, when you shared your first kiss with her. There was a certain glow to her. One that radiated from under all the dirt and grime that seemed to stain her face, even after washing it with water at the lake just an hour ago, and it made you happy in turn. 

She would never fully heal, you knew that. None of you would, realistically… once you all got out of this mess. But at least she was searching for the good in things now, trying to actively find optimism, rather than the pessimism she had been so used to embodying. And you were well aware that she would always be Shauna. The girl who didn’t get as excited over the things that you or other people would. Or the girl who found far more enjoyment in staying in and reading a book, rather than going out and mingling with people at a party she didn’t truly want to attend. Hell, even now, stuck in the wilderness, she acted like a ghost who occasionally payed the rest of the cabin a visit.  

But it wasn’t a bad thing. 

It would never be a bad thing.

“Hey. Earth to Y/n?” 

You blinked back into reality the moment Shauna’s voice broke through the fog of your mind, and you quickly realized that your eyes had fallen back down without you knowing, which ended in you intensely staring at the spot Jackson had once been laying. All that sat there now was a vacant spot, and it left the brunette feeling slightly worried. Especially with the way your gaze sat unwavering, simply focused down at the sheets, as though they were the most interesting thing in the world to you. It was obvious enough to you that she had put her son down to rest for the remainder of the day, and as you let out a quiet exhale through your nose and flickered your eyes up to meet your girlfriend’s, you rolled over onto your back and raised your brow in silent questioning.

“Hm?” You attempted to play off your daydream with a lackadaisical demeanor, but when Shauna scrunched her features up in both perplexity and concern, you knew you had failed miserably. Her brown eyes practically bored into yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to avert your gaze, as you watched her move and sit back down on the mattress, before she clasped her hands together, so that they could rest comfortably in her lap, and gave you a certain look. 

“What do you mean, ‘hm’?” she teased lightly with a smirk, as she shook her head in amusement towards your poor ability to play off your bout of distraction. She crossed her legs over the other in that same moment, and when you shrugged your shoulders and sluggishly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, she tilted her head to the side and sent you an expression that conveyed nothing but genuine curiosity. “What were you doing?” she asked, while you stared at her silently, like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Just thinkin’,” you admitted, giving her another shrug, as the corners of your lips quirked up faintly. Shauna only rolled her eyes at your simple statement, and when you let out a quiet huff in response, she used your reaction as proof that you were okay.  

Though, even then, your vague explanation gave her the excuse to scoot closer to you, and you found yourself mindlessly leaning into her, as she reached her hand up to cup your cheek. “About what?” She gently rubbed the pad of her calloused thumb over the skin that sat underneath your eye, the touch almost featherlight in the way it felt against you. And you pressed into the feeling, almost melting against the warmth of her palm that cradled the side of your face, which caused her to smile softly in turn, finding satisfaction in how comfortable you were to her affection.

“You,” you eventually replied, before you raised a hand up and curled your fingers around her wrist, “and Jackson.” You gently held the joint in your grasp and turned your head slightly to press your lips against the heel of her palm, “Thinking about how so much has changed. In a good way.” You tugged it away from your face to bring that part of her body down into your lap, and she felt her heart warm, the moment you moved your thumb across the lines that decorated her limb. “I’m happy that you’re both here… that I’m with the two of you,” you mumbled, your voice coming out as a quiet whisper, as you lowered your chin to gaze down at what you were doing. 

Your introspective thoughts about Shauna and Jackson weren’t uncommon, and she knew that, considering the fact that you often found yourself daydreaming when it came to her and her son. How you would stare, and stare, and stare, until she’d eventually notice and snap you out of it with a question. Hell, sometimes your mind buzzed so much to the point where you would wake up in the middle of the night and head outside to sit on the porch. And then you would just… think, about her, or Jackson, or about your teammates that also resided in the cabin. And it was all while you listened to the randomly occurring sounds of owls hooting, or birds flapping their wings and rustling the leaves that they hid within.

“You always have a habit of becoming sappy after we put Jackson to bed,” Shauna uttered suddenly, as she glanced down at your fingers, and watched the way they continued to trace over the lines of her palm. “You know that, right?” You simply shrugged your shoulders, feeling the corner of your lip curve up into a soft, innocent smirk that was entirely mindless, and it caused a quiet huff of endearment to slip from the brunette, before she scooted closer to you – her knee pressing against your thigh – and used her free hand to pinch your chin with her index and thumb, as she slowly tugged your focus up to meet her own once again. 

“I can’t help it,” you replied softly, the moment you met her gaze, smiling a little brighter. The brunette flickered her brown eyes between your own, clearly stuck in a bout of admiration towards the way the color of your irises fit the different contours and features of your face perfectly, and your only form of defense consisted of you shrugging – again – as you pressed your lips together tightly. “It’s not my fault you’re you and he’s him.” It was clear she didn’t know what you meant by those words, with the way her brow faintly creased in reaction to your statement, but she couldn’t bring herself to question you.

She found your form of affection too endearing to try and deconstruct it.

With Shauna still pinching the bottom of your chin, you remained frozen in your spot, staring at her intently and with a certain glint of softness shining in your eyes. “You’re a dork,” she found herself pointing out, and you immediately brightened in reply, when she let out a loving chuckle and tugged you forward slightly, just so she could press her mouth to your own. Her sound of amusement died down the moment the tip of your nose brushed against her own, and when she tipped her head up slightly to graze her lips over your own, her eyelids fluttering, that was when you pushed in and kissed her, making the connection.

There wasn’t a feeling of anxiety or nervousness that filled your chest, as your hand slowly came up to cradle the side of her neck. It wasn’t like the first time you kissed her. Wasn’t a moment full of uncertain movement and uncoordinated positions that left the two of you huffing out embarrassed laughs and flushing with heat. There was intent and fluidity that went into it now, but even if you and her still acted like you had never shared a peck before, you still would have enjoyed the moment either way. But maybe you were also appreciative of the fact that you didn’t feel like you were going to explode anymore, just from feeling her against you.

With the way you were positioned on the bed, it wasn’t difficult for Shauna to shift onto her knees and use one of her hands to press it against your hip bone. Her other limb cradled your face tenderly, her touch possessive but equally gentle, and the moment your back fell against the mattress, and your head was suddenly cradled by the pillow, that was when her lips fell away from you. With a panting breath, your eyes fluttered open and stared up at her to see her own brown irises gazing down at you already, but before you could say anything to her, she was already leaning down – disappearing from your line of vision – to peck the side of your neck.

There was intention in the action, and it made you flush with heat, as she nestled herself between your legs and pressed her palms against your hips to keep herself from falling on top of you. Your eyelids fluttered when you felt the heat of her breath against the skin of your jaw, and as she kissed the line of it, just underneath your ear, your voice broke through the silence, as your head lulled to the side to stare towards the door of the room, which was already closed and providing the two of you with privacy. “What if someone comes in?” you questioned weakly, your voice lacking its usual confidence, as Shauna moved her hand down slightly and slipped her fingers underneath your shirt. 

“Everyone’s outside enjoying the sun,” she mumbled against your flesh, while you tensed up and let out a shaky breath as she smoothed her fingers up your stomach. You ultimately moved past the possibility of anyone barging into the room, even if her words didn’t fully convince you, but when her nails lightly tickled your skin, you couldn’t stop the quiet giggle that slipped from your lips, as your hand shot down to grab her forearm. 

Shauna let out a huff at your action, and you weren’t sure if it was out of annoyance or amusement. But when she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth and curled her fingers to continue lightly grazing her nails over the skin of your belly, you could tell she was simply trying to spur you on in the way you originally reacted. And it seemed to work in her favor, when you tightened your grip on her forearm and let out a quiet grunt that did nothing but convey your displeasure and sensitivity towards her teasing. 

“Shauna,” you groaned quietly, pushing at her limb.

But she didn’t budge, and she only moved her hand to hold your side instead, as she leaned back slightly to gaze down at you, her dilated pupils locking with yours. “What?” she asked, though you knew the question was entirely rhetorical, when you noticed the ghost of a smirk form on her lips, “I’m not doing anything.” Her faux innocence made you roll your eyes, and she chuckled in turn, finding your attitude comical to her, before she hunkered down to kiss the bone of your cheek, as her hand that lingered on your waist suddenly smoothed lower to tease at the waistband of your shorts. 

Her movements still managed to make you squirm, the action ticklish to you, though you also couldn’t deny the way it made your heart speed up, while she watched your expression intently. She searched for any sort of visible response from you, as she hooked her fingers over the elastic, and with the way your eyes flitted to meet her brown ones, it was easy to see the way your features shifted into a look of subtle surprise, the moment you felt the featherlight touch of her fingers graze over the band of your underwear. 

“I’ll go slow–” 

“Guys! Guys!” 

At the sudden voice, which erupted throughout the cabin like an annoying alarm, Shauna’s hand jolted out of your pants as though she had been burned with fire, while you sucked in a sharp breath and snapped your focus towards the door. It opened just as your girlfriend leaned back on her heels with an almost frustrated huff slipping from her lips, and while you propped yourself up onto your elbows, you saw the figure of Van peek through the gap they had created. 

Their eyes were as wide as saucers, and their expression was the brightest you had ever seen since you all became trapped in the wilderness. It made your brow furrow in turn, while the brunette stared at them with an unimpressed expression on her features, clearly unhappy towards the fact that the moment had been ruined between you and her. “What, Van?” 

You snorted quietly at Shauna’s perturbed response, and Van completely ignored it, when they grinned widely and frantically glanced between the two of you with a glint of excitement in their blue eyes. “Nat waved down a fucking helicopter.” Their words were enough to make your face scrunch up in confusion, almost not believing them, and when you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and narrowed your eyes at the goalkeeper, they didn’t even give you the chance to ask what they meant, when they answered the question for you.

“They found us, guys,” Van stated, clarifying themself, “we can finally get out of here.”

This took me way too long to finish.