#shauna i see myself in you

[gardenofearthlydelightss]

jackieshauna but it's shauna in like 8th grade realising she likes girls AND realising that she's in love with her best friend at the exact same time. staying wide awake during sleepovers, tracing the lines of jackie's face as she sleeps and memorising every single detail. Every crack on her lip, every movement she makes. Feeling perverse and disgusting knowing that what she's doing and how she feels is wrong but still feeling oh so tempted to brush that stray hair out of jackie's face just so she can touch her.

[theriverdalereviewer]

YELLOWJACKET WATCHERS! What are your opinions on Jackie and Shauna

[fadingdaggerr]

first off, omg I absolutely love your writing. You're literally my favorite author on here. Second, the pictures you choose for each one shot are *chefs kiss*

Moving on from that, I was wondering if you could do a melissa schemmenti one shot inspired by the song "casual" by chappell roan, and with a happy ending? or the song "red wine supernova"?

I've been meaning to do it myself but I so don't have the time or motivation right now😭

and now? (18+ minors, dni)

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa craved you, you craved melissa. what you crave from each other seems to differ depending on the season, based on both casual and red wine supernova by chappell roan. | 6.1k

includes: angst!!, fluff, no pronouns/gender mention for r, emotionally constipated mel and r, self sabotage from r, happy ending

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption (minimal), marijuana use (minimal), verbal fighting, afab reader (no mention of breasts in ref to r), smut throughout (oral, fingering, toy use, mel and r receiving), lots of praise

translations: sfigata (italian - loser), τουαλέτα (greek - restroom - pronounced too-ah-leh-tah)

note: on this episode of “sol complains about their inability to write under 4k words and then immediately writes 6k+” N E ways. the goal of this was to sort of have mel's perspective be carried by red wine supernova and reader's perspective to be more along casual. thank you for trusting me with your prompt/idea, i'm very honored <3

The moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you.

Tipsy at a housewarming party, uninterested in everyone around her, Melissa almost calls it a night. She only agreed to be here because Shauna said ‘a small get together,’ not ‘having half of Philly in the kitchen alone.’ Weaving through the room, she attempts to find someone she knows to say goodbye to, but her search is halted by yelling from the foosball table.

In the living room, Dominic is accusing someone of cheating. At foosball. Amused, she walks further into the room to watch, seeing Dominic miss the ball too many times to not be an effect of alcohol, and he groans towards the ceiling.

He angrily spins the handles he’s holding, jostling the table, “stop fucking cheating, dude!”

“I’m not fucking cheating, dude,” the other player responds, laughing through the answer. Hiking it onto her tiptoes, Melissa peeks over shoulders to see you, a little grin on your face that also drops the joint hanging from your lips.

“Bitch, yes you are!”

Without a second to even blink, you push the rods in your hands forward, hard, making the metal ends roughly hit Dom’s hip. Leaning over the table, you blow smoke towards his face with a sarcastic smile, “don’t call me a bitch. Thought you knew better, Domi?”

“Yup,” he responds through a wince, “yup, wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

Through a chuckle, you take another hit from the near-roach, eye flicking up at the sensation of being watched intently. Red hair sticks out in the crowded room, green eyes sticking out more. Subconsciously, you do a once over of her, meeting her eyes.

Voices, music, the people around you, they all faded away. All you saw was Melissa. All Melissa saw was you.

Your whole body goes on autopilot, trying to get you to her as quickly as possible. Dominic tries to get you to play another round, an attempt to redeem himself, but you wave him off, not taking your eyes off the object of your attention as you snub out the joint against the game table. It takes borderline shoving almost everyone out of your way before you finally get to her. Any thought of leaving early flies out Melissa’s brain, disappearing as you enter her orbit.

It’s all a blur from the center of the living room, to the back of it, to the locked bathroom with you on the counter. How she got here, she doesn’t know, nor care. All she can focus on is your hand gripping her hair and the taste of you on her tongue. The blessing and curse of music beating through the wall fills her ears, thankful it covers the moans coming from you for any partygoers, but angered she can barely hear them.

Melissa can’t dwell much when your thighs begin to shake around her head, the hand not in her hair was nearly clawing the wall. From the whines that she manages to hear through thigh-shaped earmuffs and bass boosts, she can tell you’re close, the bucking into her mouth quickening with the motion of her tongue. Melissa’s alternating of figure-eights and sucking on your clit is your downfall, struggling to contain the loud groan that desperately wants to rip from your throat.

Languid motions slow, making you squirm from overstimulation before you’re pulling her back up to your lips. You almost give right back in when you feel her groan against your lips, tasting yourself on her as she dominates the kiss, all teeth and tongue. She was addictive, your new drug of choice, one you don’t want to let go of soon. 

Melissa leaves the party with your number in her phone, and your taste imprinted on her tongue.

—☽—

Melissa can’t even wait two days before she texts you, just saying it was her, chewing her thumb as she waits for a reply. Eight minutes and three seconds later, not that she’s been silently counting or anything, her phone buzzes.

hey beautiful. was wondering when i’d hear from you.

You were at her door within a couple hours, almost running over your coworker as the workday ended.

The first month of this arrangement, this is all it is. Melissa texts you a simple Are you free tonight? and you show up at her front door, grinning as she pulls you in by the collar of your shirt. She rarely takes her time with you, immediately sucking at sensitive skin and cupping your sex through your underwear, dragging her teeth down your throat. Moans and whining coming from you only spur her on. You barely make it to the couch before her fingers are working their way inside you.

It takes weeks before you can contain yourselves enough to make it to her bedroom, though your clothes are scattered from the front door to the stairs, Melissa’s black thong caught on the bannister. An altogether miracle you even make it onto her bed.

The redhead has a damn near obsession with eating you out, bold hands holding you down as you squirm, groaning into you as you grind into her face. It’s the first and last thing she does every time, before she kisses you goodbye, all soft and sweet. The two actions are so wildly different, rough and dominating followed by gentle and caring. How could one not become a fiend for the attention only she can provide?

Another month passes, and it’s almost routine. Melissa calls, you run. Melissa says jump, you ask how high. Melissa tells you to take off your shirt, it’s off before she finishes her sentence. Melissa gets you off, you leave before you’ve even caught your breath.

The expectation of you leaving drops one night when she catches the dazed, sleepy look in your eyes one night. For the first time, she lets someone spend the night. With her arm around your waist, you speak quietly into the air, “would you wanna go on a date sometime? A real one, I mean.”

Her arm retracts from your body, turning to lay on her back, “c’mon, baby. That’s not what this is, we agreed.”

Suddenly, you’re glad she’s not pressed against you anymore, breath uneven, “yeah, yeah. You’re right. Nevermind.”

You don’t bring it up again. She doesn’t try to hold you again. Your visits include dinner and wine before she dines on you and coffee before you leave in the morning, but nothing more. It tastes bitter in your mouth.

Four months in, and you find yourself splayed across her couch with the redhead buried between your thighs, fingers making sparks roll through your core. Hard knocking broke through, both of you stare at each other with wide eyes. A second round of knocking throws you into motion, scrambling to put your jeans back on, Melissa hurriedly cleaning her fingers with her mouth. Just before she opens the door, you stop her to fix her hair, immediately turning back to throw yourself on the couch.

When Melissa opens the door, all you hear is, “took you long enough.”

“Fuck d’ya expect showing up unannounced?” Melissa matches the annoyed tone of whoever’s at the door, moving aside to let them in. Blond and tall with the same Schemmenti resting-murder face. This has to be Kristen Marie, the ‘sfigata ass sister’ Melissa mentions from time to time.

“The hell are you?” The blond looks at you, no attempt to hide the judgment behind her eyes. A quick glance to Melissa, who’s glaring back, tells you to lie. You introduce yourself only as one of Melissa’s friends, the mention of knowing Shauna, however, seems to make Kristen less defensive. A sigh of relief leaves the redhead, you hadn’t been caught. A sigh of disappointment leaves your own lips.

Weeks later, Melissa’s phone rings while you’re both chopping vegetables for dinner. She mutters an apology as she pauses your conversation, showing you the contact Mama on the screen. You pretend to zip your lips with a little grin, going back to chopping the bell peppers she tasked you with.

“Hey, Ma,” Melissa says into the phone as she puts it between her ear and shoulder, freeing her hands to chop the onion. “Nah, just making dinner. I can’t stay on long, I got company,” she bumps your hip with hers, laughing at whatever her mother says before answering, “no, weirdo, not that kind of company… I’ll ask, hold on.”

Putting her phone to her chest to cover the speaker, she asks, “my mother would like to know if you’re a complete freak?”

“Contextually, yes and no,” you say, reveling in Melissa’s bursted laughter, “but tell her no.”

“No more than I am, Ma,” she says when she brings her phone back to her ear, pinching your ass as she stifles a laugh while her mom keeps speaking. The hand around your heart has pink acrylics.

In the passing months, a change you weren’t expecting comes, and you hope that if you don’t acknowledge it, it will stay this way. An undercover Eurydice.

Most nights, Melissa barely let you get out a greeting before you were pinned against the door, lips on your, hands roaming under your shirt. Some nights she was slow, gentle, loving almost, taking her time and kissing every inch of you. Those nights made it hard to separate the feelings you have from the ones she dances around talking about.

There are other days though, your favorite days. Ones like tonight, where both of you are exhausted and just want to no longer exist to the world. Instead, you feel as though you’re in your own world out here on her back porch. You peek over at Melissa as you take a hit from a joint you packed before driving over, eyes closed, Melissa doesn’t see you.

Watching closer than you should, your eyes stay on her as she moves to take a sip of the Cabarnet you bought only for her. The way her lips kiss the glass, how she licks her lips to never waste a drop. If she asked, you’d gladly kiss away rogue droplets of wine. She’s beautiful, truly beautiful. She knows it, but she doesn’t really believe it, always rolling her eyes when you mumble it against her thighs. You wish you could tell her whenever the thought crossed your mind, every time you look at her. Exhaling, you turn away, mouthing a silent fuck to yourself. Bringing the J to your lips, you try to keep from being caught.

Melissa’s head drops, propping her chin on her shoulder with droopy eyes, “can we just sleep tonight? ‘M slipping into a coma over here.”

You chuckle, copying her pose, rose-tinted eyes flitting over her, “sounds great.”

For the first time in five months, Melissa holds you as you both fall asleep in the center of the bed.

You love these nights, ones where you can pretend Melissa is just as much yours as you are hers.

A cruel, ten month anniversary gift of sorts comes in the form of a friend in the hospital cafeteria.

Your phone pings where it sits in your scrub shirt pocket, your chest tightens.

Melissa: I’ll be home around 6, if you’re free tonight.

The grin on your face is not unnoticed by your friend as she sits back in front of you. Shauna taps the table to get your attention, “that your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” you mumble, typing out a reply to Melissa.

when am i not free for you?

Shauna scoffs, speaking under her breath, “like you actually think that.”

You place your phone back on the table with a little force, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s just using you, honey,” Shauna blurts, “you’re at her beck and call, and all she wants is sex. And I know you, that’s not what you want.”

“And what do I want, oh wise one?”

“Her,” she replies. “I’ve known you too long to not know that you’re in love with her. I’ve also known Mel long enough to say that she is going to break your heart.”

You kiss your teeth, “what do you know about what Melissa wants?”

Shauna doesn’t appreciate your defensive attitude, so she gives you the hard truth, “she said this whole thing is just casual. Pretty stress relief, I think were her exact words.”

You are stress relief, nothing more. Another ping.

Melissa: See you then baby.

—☽—

When you arrive on Melissa’s doorstep, you desperately want to turn and run, save yourself before you feel any more. The equally desperate need to be near her knocks for you, but when she answers, you can barely meet her gaze. Green eyes flick from your face to your wringing hands, pink lips shifting to a frown.

“What’s bothering you?” Melissa asks gently, locking the door behind you. When you shake your head, struggling to kick your shoe off, her arms wrap around your waist, chin on your shoulder. She feels you stiffen, pouting to herself, “I know something’s wrong, you look like Eeyore in torrential downpour.”

You huff a laugh and lean against her, “just… stress.”

“Hmm,” glossy lips press to your neck, soft and slow, “want me to get rid of some of that?” The feeling of her hands on you is so convincing, it overrides what you know you should do. Turning in her arms, you press your lips into her and let her take control.

Her mouth wraps around your nipple, thumb slowly torturing your clit as her fingers work you through your third orgasm. From the twitch of your hips, she knows you’re at your limit, carefully removing her fingers from you. Greedy hands tug at her, pulling her to your lips as you flip your bodies, straddling her hips. Traveling down, you delight in her whimpers as you suck at her skin, leaving behind marks comparable to the wine she loves.

Your hands spread her legs, taking your rightful place between them. Sensual, slow, loving kisses down her soft stomach, all leading to where she needs you most. Her hips buck as you get closer to her center, breath tickling her pearl. With a flat tongue, you fulfill her wish, licking a stripe from the base of her slit to her clit, moaning into her. Hands harshly grip your hair, tugging when you suck on her clit. Your own hand slides from her strong thigh to her plush breasts, toying with her nipples as you devour her.

Husky pants draw from her throat, pitchy whines breaking through when your fingers begin to toy with her entrance. Neither of you care about the phone ringing from the nightstand. All you can hear is hoarse moans of oh god and please, faster, all you feel, taste, and smell, is Melissa. You both peer to the nightstand when it rings again, desperately trying to ignore it. A second finger enters Melissa as her attention falls back on you, her eyes meeting yours as she moans, fueling your desire.

A third ringing of the phone almost makes her scream, and tapping your shoulder with vigor to stop you before the phone is forced to ring again. You quickly, and gently, retract your fingers, allowing Melissa to shakily reach for her phone. The blood drains from her face as she looks at the screen, staring at you where you rest on her thigh, answering with a gulp.

“H-” she clears her throat, “hey, ma.” Your eyes almost bulge from your head. “I was in the middle of a shower, sorry,” she gets out quickly, nearly laughing at herself and you purse your lips to contain your own giggle, “well, the kids had a project with glitter, had to get it off.”

“Get something off,” you mumble quietly, pressing a kiss to the junction of her hip. Melissa playfully smacks your arm as she listens to her mother, pressing her finger to her grinning lips.

“Well, I got a friend over right now…” Friend. “Yes, the freak,” she chuckles warmly, patting your hand before her hand freezes on yours, “oh- I… can ask.” Her eyes leave her lap, now looking to you, “wanna go get dinner at Cirillo’s? My parent’s treat.”

Your eyebrows rise, “do you… want me to go?” You’ve met Kristen Marie, and only quickly ran into her cousin Vinny, but her parents were a whole other story.

“Wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” it feels genuine. You nod.

Arturo and Giorgia Schemmenti are exactly who would expect Melissa’s parents to be. Giorgia shares suspicion openly on her face, Arturo, on the other hand, has a resting smile. You think in the moment, you’ve got them figured out, but the way they unblinkingly look when you speak terrifies you, as if they’re analyzing every breath you take and every twitch of your hand. Silent prayers from both you and Melissa ask they don’t realize you were forced to wear one of her shirts, having arrived to her place in an ancient sweatshirt from your backseat.

You answer every question they ask you, although confused on the need to grill you so closely. What do you do for work? How many siblings? Ever gotten a speeding ticket? How’s your relationship with your parents? Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases? Thoughts on Reagan? Ever cheated on one of your past partners? MRI technician, sir. Two brothers. Twice, one on my way to school, one on my way to the hospital for my grandmother. Not great, I guess? No, ma’am, I get tested every two months. Hope he’s in hell. No, God, no.

“Lord, you two, let up. We haven’t even gotten the tzatziki yet,” Melissa says, laying the drinks menu down on the table.

“Just trynna get to know your friend, Meli,” Arturo turns his attention to you, “swear, all the girl does is talk about you, and I still know nothing.” The ringed hand at the edge of the table clenches, knuckles white.

You just shrug, “afraid I’m not that interesting.” I’m just a friend. 

You miss how Melissa looks at you, brows turned up as she glimpses your sad smile. However, you feel a warm hand go to your thigh, squeezing gently. When her parents' attention diverts to a large party walking in, she whispers in your ear, “I don’t like when you talk about yourself like that, you’re very interesting. Should know, I’ve studied every inch of you for hours.”

It takes a deep breath and every ounce of strength to not wiggle in your seat. Reprieve comes in the shape of a definitely stoned server, lucky bastard, and reprieve is taken away when he tells you that food may be a little delayed due to the rush. Melissa’s parents nod with understanding, you nod with fear bubbling. A delay means longer here, with Melissa’s hand on your thigh with her parents speaking about everything and nothing from across the table.

It’s getting harder and harder to focus with Melissa’s fingers drawing little patterns over your jeans, skin burning beneath her touch. Peering over at her, you can see an almost-hidden mark from early, the easy smile on her lips as she talks to her dad, she’s perfect in your eyes. In this lighting, it’s hard to look away from her, orange-hued lights making her look golden.

Rising from your chair, you just give a quiet, “I’ll be right back.” You turn to walk towards the restrooms, desperate for space away from judging hazel and green eyes across the table. Melissa watches your direction, excusing herself too, following where you disappeared under the sign reading τουαλέτα.

In the short hallway, she grabs your wrist before you enter the door, pulling you to the family room to the right. Locking the door, she places her hands on your hips, “are they freaking you out? I’ll tell them to knock it off, or we can go, say you’re on call or something.”

“No,” you say, place your palms against her shoulders, “it’s just overwhelming, all the questions, your dad asking for my credit score, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t have to tell him,” she chuckles, hands dipping to your ass.

You shiver from her touch, leaning into her, “it’s a good score, though.”

“It is,” you barely hear her words as she presses her lips to yours, all the energy from earlier still running through her veins. Your hands slide down her arms to her hips, pushing her back towards the sink. We’ve been here before.

Hopping up, she settles against the porcelain and opens her legs to let you stand between them. Keeping your lips on hers, you quickly unbutton her jeans, forcing the zipping down. You know her like the back of your hand at this point, know how to touch her to make her writhe and release around your fingers, you’re utterly devoted to her pleasure.

The previously ruined orgasm comes back quickly with full force, her clenching around you quickly. Her lips leave yours, shoving her face into your shoulder to mute her moans. Lips brushing the shell of her ear, you circle your thumb over her clit and whisper, “God, you are so beautiful. C’mon, baby, cum for me.”

Teeth chomp into your shoulder as her writhing becomes erratic against your hand before slowing as she relaxes against you. Her breathing evens out, quicker than you expect, her face becoming unreadable as it lifts from its hiding place. Surprisingly, she stays silently leaned against you as you wash your hands, letting you fix her hair before you fix your own.

Arturo and Giorgia seemingly notice nothing, believing the excuse of a busy line, one visible from your seats. If they don’t believe you, they don’t give anything away, though their questions ease up once the food comes. It must be a Schemmenti thing to be quiet for the first few bites of food, taking in every flavor. It’s endearing.

Both Schemmenti’s hug you, to even more surprise, telling you how delightful it was to put a face to a commonly brought up name. Melissa pinches the bridge of her nose before hugging her mother, mumbling something to the woman before embracing her father.

The entire drive back to her house, you can’t find it in you to speak, too lost in thought. Melissa talks about you, often, often enough that her parents wanted to meet you. Why would they question you so much, especially if you’re just their daughter’s friend? Wanting to know about your ‘past’ relationships, as opposed to what, your… current one? It hits you embarrassingly late, as Melissa pulls into the driveway: her parents think she’s talking about you because she’s dating you, and think she just hasn’t officially told them. All you can do is turn and look at her, bewildered.

Hand on the key in the ignition, Melissa turns and looks at you, “I don’t know about you, but I’m exha- What?” When she doesn’t get an answer, her face screws with worry, “what’s wrong, baby?”

Blinking rapidly, you scan over her face, “you talk about me to your parents.”

“Well I’m with you a lot, it's natural to talk about you,” she says like it’s obvious, turning off the car.

“Enough that your parents wanted to meet me, know about my family and dating history?”

Her face hardens, and you wish you’d never spoken, her voice demands respect “well, they got the wrong idea. Being nosy is in their blood, being right isn’t.”

“Okay,” you’re exasperated. 

“You and I, this isn’t a relationship, no expectations, no attachments. Just good, old-fashioned sex between friends,” Melissa says slowly, brow raised, “capisce?”

“Yeah…Capisce,” you say, stepping out of the car, pulling your keys from your pocket.

“What are you doing?” Melissa says, realizing you aren’t behind her as she goes to the front door.

You turn and face her, standing in the open car door, “I’m going home. You want no attachments, I can’t give that to you anymore.”

She steps down from the bottom step, “Baby-”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to be in something you don’t want, you want casual, Melissa. Stress relief,” her eyes dart to you at the wording, your eyes look down to your feet, “what I feel for you, it’s beyond that, beyond what you want me to feel.”

“You don’t know what I want,” she gets closer, hand reaching for you, but you brush her off.

“I’m all you want until I want you.” When she doesn’t reply, you sit and close the door, pulling out of the driveway with Melissa staring where you’d stood.

—☽—

Two weeks of radio silence. This is the longest in the near year you’ve spent with Melissa where you haven’t seen one another. Last time it was four days after you brought up a date for the second time, six days before that when she found out that Kristen Marie called you when she was drunk and needed a ride home from God-knows-where, begging you to not tell Melissa, accidentally blurting it herself.

You wish you didn’t miss her, her laugh, the smell of eucalyptus shampoo, her touch, her eyes, her hands, her smile, her little dance when she takes food out of the oven. She was all that surrounded you for so long, it’s all you know. It feels wrong to be without her, but it hurts to think about her. Salt entered the wound when Shauna dared to mention Melissa going on a date with some vending machine guy, immediate regret when you got up and left soon after. You're thankful to not hear of him again.

Another week passes, and as a month gets closer to passing, the hole in your chest has yet to heal over. Your phone buzzes next to you where you blankly watch the documentary that was playing.

From Shauna: i fucked up. apologies to ur door in advance

To Shauna: thank u for the context

From Shauna: i poked the ginger bear

From Shauna: by poked i mean chewed out

To Shauna: again, i fear the context has yet to appear

From Shauna: yelled at ur ex-mommy for treating you like a toy from spencers

To Shauna: i’ll pass on your apology to my door in my will

Comedic timing is a very real thing, hard knocking on your door, clearly both fists meeting the wood.

Ripping the door open, you stare down a tired-eyed, yet irate, Melissa, “unnecessary. I have a buzzer.”

“And I have a Cost-Co card,” she says, pushing her way into your home.

“What are you doing here?”

Hands on her hips, she turns and faces you, “your- I’d say our, but not right now- your friend just chewed me a new one about leading you on. Leading you on?! As if we didn’t have an arrangement, no feelings, just sex.”

“An agreement that I ended! Because I got feelings! It wasn’t just sex for me, it stopped being just sex a long time ago,” you never thought you’d be raising your voice at her like this, “I tried to tell you, all those dates I offered, everything I’ve ever said to you, I meant all of it. And what do I get? No, baby, we’re casual. So, I tapped out.”

“Because we were casual! There’s supposed to be no feelings here!”

“Then how’s that vending machine guy, huh? He’s been having conversations with just your tits for months, and he got a date, but where is he now?” She flounders. “Did you take him home? Or try?” She nods imperceptibly. “I would bet my whole life savings on the fact he probably couldn’t even get you wet, let alone make you cum. How right am I?”

Her lips tremble, “that’s not the point.”

“Just a question, needs an answer.” Melissa shakes her head, confirming your suspicions. “Why are you actually here, Melissa?”

Emerald eyes look into yours, emotion swirling through them as she asks quietly, “do you still have feelings for me?”

You won’t lie, you never can with her, “haven’t wavered once.”

Carefully, Melissa steps slowly into your space, hands coming to your sides, “I’m stupid. So fucking stupid. I thought all I wanted was sex, but when you left and I tried to just make myself… move on. It didn’t feel the same, being alone doesn’t feel the same. It’s so stupid and cliché and stupid that it took you leaving me to realize… Fuck, I feel like a Jane Austen character.”

Weary hands rise to her face, holding her with a special reverence, “I need to hear you say it.” The magnetic pull between you brings you into her, lips only an inch from her own.

Fingers grip your shirt, “I… I love you. I have since you told the Jehovah’s Witnesses to eat a bag of locusts and ass on Christmas Eve.”

The little smile that plays on her lips, clearly picturing the memory, it heals something in you. Brushing your lips against hers, you mumble, “I love you, too. ”

The kiss she presses to your lips is so different from any other you’d shared, but the desperation brings you back to that first night in the bathroom. Tongues graze, and a fire is ignited. Spinning her, you walk her back towards your bedroom, a place she’s only been twice in the last year.

Falling as her knees hit the bed, she takes you with her, and you gladly take your place. Just as the last time you were with her, you straddle her waist, continuing to kiss her with all the emotion you can express. Ringed fingers tug at your shirt, begging for contact. You don’t deny her, nor yourself, pulling her shirt off of her after yours, both lost on the floor. Jeans fly to meet them soon after.

Lips, tongue, and teeth clash as you fall into the feeling of each other’s skin. Moving down, you nip at her neck, sucking roughly on her pulse point to leave a mark. You continue your mission down her chest, leaving red splotches across her breasts. Always so sensitive, Melissa arches into your affections, groaning when your tongue swirls around her nipple, leaving a string of saliva that connects you to it as you pull away.

Shifting lower and lower, giving her abdomen attention, soft kisses trailing down. Your lips trail over silvery stretch marks, following as they lead you to her plush thighs. Teeth wrap around the waistband of her thong, eyes glancing to her as a silent request of permission.

“Please, baby,” her voice airy and whiny as she basks in the affection you so readily give her.

Pulling down her thong, tossing it to the side, your eyes fall to her pussy. Lips blooming in arousal, clit swollen, begging for a touch it hasn’t received in too long. You press a gentle kiss to her pearl, hearing another whine pass her lips, hips bucking slightly for you.

How you missed her. Your tongue licks up her slit, gathering the wetness that accumulated there, dancing up around her clit. A divine taste so feminine, so uniquely Melissa, you moan into her as you grip her thighs, working your tongue into her opening. Dusty purple nails dig into your hand, and you flip your wrist to interlock your fingers, feeling her squeeze tightly.

Your tongue leaves her, much to her dismay. Blown out eyes follow your reach to the nightstand, a clear bottle of lube procured. Your lips press to hers again as you spread the lube across your fingers and lower your hand to her entrance, replacing the contact of your tongue. Throaty moans leave her lips, more, please. Slowly, your ring finger joins the middle, allowing her a moment to adjust before quickening your motions, moaning yourself at the feeling of her cunt gripping your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say against her lips, “so beautiful.” Teeth pull at her bottom lip, making her groan into your mouth, kiss going sloppy.

“I- oh- I love you,” Melissa answers through a moan, grinding against your thumb on her sensitive bud. A particular curl of your fingers makes her silently scream, soothed by your gentle mouthing of her neck.

Your index finger lines with her slit, “can you take more?”

She nods quickly, forcing your lips back to hers as a third finger stretches slowly, moans turning squeaky. All you can hear is the airy moans and the wetness of her pussy taking your fingers, sparking a warmth in your lower stomach. You can feel how close she is, how her walls refuse to let go, how her eyes flutter as they roll back.

In a sudden moment, your fingers stop, pulling from her. Her head snaps up, eyes immediately on you, “what are you doing?” God, the glassy look in your eyes almost breaks your heart.

“Hold on, gorgeous,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to her chest. Leaning over to the nightstand again, still straddling Melissa’s waist as her hands hold yours, you blindly reach into the drawer, searching for a familiar object. Finding the small, flat toy, you sit back against her, holding it to her eye level. Catching your drift, she nods, legs widening as she sits up slightly against the headboard.

Pressing the vibrator against her thigh, you turn it to the middle setting, feeling her jump a little at the sensation. Slowly, you slide it closer to her clit, using your free hand to slide one of her legs till it’s propped up. Lowering yourself, you press your clit against the top of the toy, keeping it pressed between your heat and hers, both of you moaning in unison.

Rolling your hips, a breathless moan leaves you, ducking your head as your eyes close in ecstasy. Sharp nails dig into your ass, pulling you down further, moans crescendoing. It feels like you’re too far from her, immediately dropping to press your lips to hers in open-mouthed kisses, whining against her lips as she holds you to her. Using her thigh for leverage, you use your own leg to press harder to her cunt, rolling against her in a way that forces her teeth into your shoulder.

The strong vibration against your clit and Melissa’s presence alone has you holding on by a thread, and from the way the redhead is holding onto you, you know she is too. Putting your weight fully on your right hand, your left grabs Melissa’s, tangling your fingers together. Her lips move languidly across yours, tongue dancing with yours rather than fighting for dominance, something she never did before. The emotions of it all and the coil snapping in your stomach, your forehead drops to her shoulder, panting as you feel your climax approach.

“Baby, ple-oh-please,” the hand creating crescent-shaped dents in your back shifts to your hair.

“I gotchu, let go for me,” your teeth tug at her earlobe, “cum for me, beautiful.”

A final, hard roll of your hips sets you both alight, moaning as you cum in tandem.

Both of you squirm as the toy works against you still. Lifting off her, you remove the toy from its place against her, turning it off and placing it on the nightstand to be dealt with later. Lowering yourself, you come face to face with her pussy, swollen and wet and beautiful. With gentle strokes, you lick her clean, taking your time to savor her taste.

Melissa’s husky moans spur you on, lapping up to her sensitive clit. Barely suckling on the nub has her tensing again, her grip on you doesn’t let you go far, not that you were planning on it regardless. She cums on your tongue, giving you a taste once more. Sweet decadence.

Easing your way back up with loving kisses up her body, laying on your side next to her, chest to chest. Your legs stay tangled together, no space exists between you.

The hand not in hers rises to her face, pushing loose, wild hair away, caressing her cheek. Melissa turns her head to press a kiss to your thumb, her own hand coming to your wrist.

“I love you,” she says, “I really, really do.”

You stroke her cheek again, “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you how I did,” her eyes water, “I don’t have any excuses. I’m just so sorry, baby.”

“Well, we’ve got all the time you want with me to make it up to me,” you say, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

She smiles weakly, “I want all the time with you.”

Your lips press to her lips this time, “then that’s what you get.” Leaning across you, Melissa puts herself on your lap, her favorite place to sit. Face hovering above yours for only a moment, she tucks herself into the crook of your neck, keeping her weight on top of you.

Sticky with sweat, the scent of sex around you, the tracing of nails up and down your sides, dancing over your ribs. Nothing has changed and everything has. You have always been Melissa’s, she has always been yours, now you finally have each other. Warm breath over your neck evens out, the lost sleep and recently lost energy catching up to her. You, however, you are invigorated.

For the first time in a year, you get to hold your Melissa.

kudos to anyone that can find all the song references and the singular lisa ann reference that is so small u will miss it

as towa bird says: scissor your friends!

feed back appreciated as always <3

[gremlinmodetweeker]

The House is On Fire, and Everyone is Laughing and Smiling (pt 2)

Yeah you read that right, part two is finally out! Read part one HERE and enjoy the second hurt-comfort part of the fic. I will say, this is the part EVERYONE has been waiting for, including myself. It's a very sweet piece, but it made me hurt because ahhhh they're cute but so dumb!

Anyways,

TW: sorta cheating, sorta revenge cheating, they were never together so is it cheating?, angst (BUT DON'T WORRY THIS IS THE ONE WHERE THEY GET CLOSER)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Art from This Post

The House is On Fire, and Everyone is Laughing and Smiling (pt 2)

“Where is she?”

The voice sounded familiar. You were only just able to make it out through the fog wreathing your head.

“She’s in the bathroom,” you heard someone else say.

“How long has she been in there?”

“An hour, I think.”

You blinked slowly. You were roused, but only just. Soon you were slipping away.

A loud slamming on the door had your eyes cracking open again.

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“Who the hell are you? Wait, what are you doing to my door!?”

SLAM.

“Dude you need to leave.”

“Hey hey HEY! Don't TOUCH me!”

SLAM.

“What’s your fucking problem?”

“Get out of here!”

SLAM.

A few more shouts, but you heard Shauna as clear as day.

“Wait, König?”

König?

No, that was impossible. König was never invited. Why would he be here? Wait, did you even text him the address?

“YOU NEED TO LEAVE.”

The door burst forth. You could hardly see, but you could see something big above you.

“Guys back up, let the big guy through.”

"Is he leaving?"

"He'd better be..."

You felt yourself get hoisted up into the air. Panic welled up in your chest.

“Shh… It’s okay,” a kind voice soothed you, “you’re okay now.”

“So, you’re König?”

“Get the fuck out of my way, little man.”

You felt a steady bobbing motion as you were carried through the air. You blinked once, twice, and fell back asleep.

—

You woke up in a beautiful bed. You’d never felt more comfortable in your entire life than you did when you stretched your body under the wonderfully heavy duvet. The pillows held your head securely, and when you arched your back you could feel a wonderfully warm body pillow behind you.

“Ach, you’re awake.”

Not a body pillow.

You rolled over clumsily, somewhat panicked and yet still feeling numbed by whatever had been flowing through your system last night. Shit, your head hurt. Did you have painkillers anywhere?

“It hurts, ja? Let me get you something.”

He crawled over top of you to grab something, then bent down to push a pill onto your tongue. You automatically swallowed when he poured water down your throat. You coughed before falling back to the bed. You felt like your stomach was a pit trying to invert itself as you writhed in the bedding. Your head felt heavy and the light filtering through the curtains pierced the back of your skull, pounding with your heart in your chest. What the hell happened last night?

“Go ahead and rest,” König whispered into your ear, “it’s okay. Just relax. It’ll be better soon.”

“I wanna die,” you moaned.

“Shhh, it’ll be okay,” König crawled back to your side and lay beside you, “I’ll be here for you.”

You shuddered. And yet, the bed was so inviting, and his scent was draped around you like a warm mink coat. He was everywhere all at once, just like you’d dreamed of for so long. But why? Why did he have to be perfect after you’d already gone off with someone else? Why was he being so good to you? Didn’t he hate you?

“You’re thinking too much,” König nuzzled into your neck, so close to your gland and yet just far enough away to make it seem innocuous.

“‘M not,” you mumbled into the covers.

“You are, little one,” König chuckled, “think later. It’s time for bed, ja?”

“But… Why are you being so nice to me?” you tried to look at him but he gently pushed you face back into the sheets.

“Rest now,” his voice took a stern tone before thawing like Spring's last snow, “I’ll tell you everything when you get up, but I can’t tell you anything while you’re like this.”

“Why not?”

“You might not remember.”

You wanted to argue, but you were too tired. Instead, you rested back into the covers and closed your eyes to drift back into nebulous darkness.

—

Your eyes finally opened again, this time without feeling like actual death had you in a choke hold. Though your head still ached and swam wildly when you moved too quickly, but it wasn’t as daunting as before. Before? Yes, before. There had been a before. That’s right, you had woken up before.

“König?” your voice cracked through the still air.

“I’m here,” came the reply from behind you.

You gingerly shifted to your back, then cautiously rolled over to see König laying beside you. The bedding just barely came up to his pecs, showing off that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Instead, he seemed to be perfectly comfortable being at the very least half naked beside you.

“What’re you doing here?” you croaked.

“I’m comforting my omega,” he replied and pulled you to him, “you had quite the adventure last night.”

“Did I?” memories of last night came bubbling up the surface, “oh, I did.”

Shaun, Eric, Rick, the woman, the drinks, the fire and the stars, they all flitted through your mind.

“Ja you did,” König chuckled, “but don’t worry, it’s over now.”

“Is it?” you whispered.

“It is.”

You closed your eyes, and despite your better judgment, leaned your head onto his chest. He was so beautifully warm. It was so warm, soft and comfortable. It was glorious. It couldn’t get better than this, could it? It was just so nice to be here, finally, after pining for so long. Of course, he was only comforting you after the disaster that had been last night, but it was something beautiful to behold. In this moment, you could pretend to be his beloved omega, his little pet, his only love. Of course it wasn’t true, but you wanted it to be. Oh how you wanted it to be.

König rubbed your back soothingly, helping you fully unwind in his bedding.

Now that you thought about it, you were finally in his nest. This was where he slept each night, where he scented, where he… Okay maybe your thoughts needed to be reeled back in.

“Are you comfortable?” 

Bless König for knowing just when to interrupt your thoughts.

“Um, well, I’m better,” you stumbled over yourself, words clotting on your tongue like blood in dirty bandages.

“That’s good,” König mumbled. He looked down at you, his blue blue eyes suddenly seeming so sad again. Why did he always look so sad when you just wanted him to smile?

“Are you okay?” you asked meekly.

“Me?” König snorted as his mouth quirked up into a wry smirk, “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m a bit better, but…” you looked down at the bedding, “this is your nest, isn’t it?”

“It is,” König admitted, “it's nice to share, no?”

You wished he’d tell you to stay, make yourself at home for while you're ill. You wanted to hear that you were always welcome here for a bit longer. Better yet, don’t go. Don’t leave him. Make your nest within his own, shape this nest into one for the both of you, make it together.

He said no such thing. Instead, his words hung in the air, tacked in place like dirty stockings over the smouldering embers of a fire.

“Do you like it here?” König asked with a strange sort of hesitancy, “most people say my scent is too strong…”

“I think it’s nice,” for emphasis you snuggled into his pillow.

The muscles around König’s neck relaxed. You didn’t even realize they were tense in the first place. Goes to show how attentive you were to you alpha, you supposed.

“That’s good,” his words clunked together like rusted gears, “I’m happy you like it.”

You thought carefully for a moment. You learned something important last night. Before your memories cut out, before you got lost in that fog, you remembered talking to someone. Right, Rick. That's why you remembered him. He said something to you that set you on edge. Or was it just that he set you on edge in general? You didn’t know, but something felt wrong when you thought about him.

The memory flashed through your mind like white lightening, setting your mind ablaze with fear. Earlier that night, he'd seen you for what you were. You couldn't hide from another alpha. Not from his nose at least. But were all alphas the same?

“Alphas have good senses of smell, right?” you asked hesitantly.

König nodded slowly, his eyes already drooping into their usual melancholic state.

“So you could smell him then, couldn’t you,” you whispered.

König’s smile was so kind. It hurt to look at him smile like that, so pained and yet trying so hard to please you. Weren’t you meant to be the one pleasing him? Why did he have to look so sad, even when he smiled?

“I always knew,” he murmured, his eyes downcast to where his hand lay beneath his great head.

“Since the first trip to the farmer’s market?” you asked.

“The moment you came back I knew,” he admitted, “I always knew.”

Your closed your eyes. Shame flushed through you, ridding you of any puppy love you had for Shaun. Shaun. Now the name sound like ‘shun’, and how you wished you were shunned. You wished he’d hate you. You wanted him to cry and scream, but instead he smiled at you to try and ease your pain.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that he knew. He was never supposed to know, he was never supposed to find out. You tried to keep your voice down late at night, you tried to hide your phone screen from his eyes, you tried so hard to keep this from him but he knew since the very beginning. It was all for naught.

All the dates with Shaun over the past couple of months. Every weekend, sometimes on a weekday. Every time you rode in his car he could smell the fast food burned into your clothes.

“You at least could’ve brought back a doughnut for me,” König chuckled at his little joke, but it only served to twist the knife further in.

He knew about the damn doughnuts. His nose really did tell him everything he needed to know, didn’t it? You felt so stupid.

“I didn’t know you knew,” you tried to justify but even you knew your words were hollow.

“We were never mates,” König’s grin was full of bitter, clenched teeth, “how could I tell you no?”

“But I lied to you,” you whispered.

“You lied, but I did too,” König sighed, “when I saw you leave, I’d try to see others.”

You felt your world collapse around you. He saw others. He tried to get a side relationship too. But unlike him, you never had a clue. All the emotions you’d suppressed for so long came bubbling up to the surface in a great tidal wave, stringing you out in the currents, rending you limb from limb.

He had lied to you.

You couldn’t be mad though.

You lied to him too.

“Nobody stuck with me,” König sighed, “everyone knew I didn’t have my heart in it.”

“Then why did you do it?” you whimpered, tears prickling as your throat constricted, invisible hands clenching down on your windpipe.

König ruffled his messy blond hair, with a sigh. He closed his eyes and lay still beside you. A tender hand gently bushed along your shoulder, down your arm, and then it left you alone. Your skin felt cold in its wake.

“I wanted to hurt you,” he said, “like you hurt me.”

You hiccuped. Were you actually crying? What right did you have to cry?

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry wasn’t enough. No words could possibly heal the damage you’d done. The two of you had lit your respective ends of the stick of dynamite between you, and only now did they meet. Figures that they’d burn out when your head was already hurting and you felt like you’d been battered down into nothing but mulch to feed the flowers. You were finally low enough, at least.

“Why did you want to hurt me?”

You already hated his answer.

“Because I wanted you to be mine.”

The dams in your mind gave way to a flood of tears. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking now. You were pathetic, but in a way, so was he. You both were miserable whelps. And yet, here you lay in a nest together, comforting each other by eating each other alive. You relished in the taste of his meat upon your teeth for so long, but only now did you realize that you’d eaten so much that there was nothing left but the rotten truth on his bare bones.

“I wanted to protect you,” his voice shook like leaves in the wind before a coming storm, “I didn’t want you to love me.”

“But why?” you choked.

“Because one day I will leave and I won’t come back,” König crushed his eyes tight, “I’m going to die out there. I'm going to get deployed again, and one day I'm not coming back. I’m going to die and I’ll leave you behind.”

You hated him. But more importantly, you hated KorTac. No, you hated humanity for waging war, but more importantly you hated the universe for being so cruel by letting you dance this cosmic waltz. Hate. Hate. HATE. It coursed through you, your blood boiling and foaming under the surface like hydrothermal vents. You wanted to gnash your teeth, scream at him for being so stupid, but what was there to say?

If he let you love him, he’d break your heart on the battlefield. If he didn’t, he’d break your heart in your own home.

“We never had a chance,” you finally said.

“No, Maus,” König’s great form shuddered weakly, “not a single one.”

You wanted to beat your hands against his great chest, but instead your hands curled up into your form in two tight balls. He shuddered and quaked as silent tears wracked through his goliath body.

“I was so stupid,” he cried, “I pushed you away and now look what I’ve done to you?”

You shuffled closer until you could press your nose into the glands of his neck, “No, I was the stupid one.”

“Maus, I ruined us,” König shakily wrapped one arm around you.

You let him press you against him. In fact, you pressed yourself in, unable to stop yourself from wrapping an arm under his to hold him tight like you’d dreamt of for so long.

“You’re so stupid,” you beat his chest weakly with one fist, “we’re both so stupid.”

König curled around you like a cat. His warmth set you alight under the blankets, but you didn’t dare try to pull away. His tears soaked your shirt, the same one you wore last night. He never changed you. He was too good to touch you like that, not when you were so vulnerable. He was a better man.

“Never again,” König hissed, “I’m never letting you go again.”

“I’ll never leave,” your words formed into a ribbon. It wrapped around your heart before trailing down through your wrist, winding up his arm before plummeting into his chest and taking his heart into a snare. The ribbon tightened painfully around you both.

“Promise me,” he sobbed, “promise me we won’t ever do this again.”

“We won’t,” you vowed, “we won’t. We won’t, we won’t, we won’t.

König held his breath, but the sobs overcame him regardless.

“I don’t know if I can believe us.”

“Try,” you urged him, “try for us.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” he hugged you painfully close, “I don’t want to do this again. When I found you… I can’t do it again. I’m not that strong a man.”

“Then don’t be strong,” you cried.

“I have to be,” he hiccuped, “I need to keep up appearances. If my team saw me like this… Weak, in an omega’s arms, they’d…”

“I don’t give a damn what they think,” you hissed, “just let yourself love me. Let yourself be weak.”

“But how?”

“Love me.”

He pulled back to look you in the eyes.

His eyes were rimmed with a bright red as tears trailed beneath. He looked pitiful but you couldn’t be much better. Maybe, it was better to be weak. Together, you could be weak. By being weak, you could be strong.

“Will you let me be your alpha?” he asked hoarsely, “after all I’ve done?”

“Only if you’ll let me be your omega, despite everything,” you replied weakly.

“Please,” he gasped.

“Then take me,” you snuggled back in.

König finally pressed you into his scent gland. He rubbed slightly, spreading the oils of the gland across the side of your neck. If you didn’t know what was happening, you never would’ve guessed it was happening.

You’d read articles that said that when someone scented you, you could feel the oils on your skin. But König was different. There was a slight dampness, but nothing uncomfortable. You’d expected something tacky or viscous, but this was nothing of the sort. This was just König pressing himself into you, scenting you like you’d wanted for so long.

Underneath his touch, you could feel your own glands tingle as they took him in. In turn, they coated his neck, claiming him as yours forever.

“I won’t ever let you be without my scent,” he hissed, “you’ll always have me, wherever you go. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

“And I’ll never leave you,’ you promised, “I’ll always be yours. Let me scent you.”

His shuddering calmed as he scented you, coating your neck with his musk before moving to the other side of your neck. When you caught a glance of his expression, it was no longer tearful, but rather clouded by rage and determination. His fangs hung over his lower lip as he began to rub his neck against your other side.

You rubbed against him yourself, coating him in yourself. You couldn't put your finger on it, it was hard to describe how you smelt, but when you pulled him into your gland you could smell him change. It was slow, ever so gentle in how it crept in, and soon he no longer smelt of someone else, some great alpha A stranger, and instead he smelled of you and, more starkly, he smelled of home. You could cry over this alone.

“It’s not your fault though,” you whispered, “I went because I wanted to. You couldn’t have stopped me.”

“But I could’ve gone with you,” he sighed, “I could’ve protected you.”

“Thinking about the ‘what ifs’ never really did much to change the present,” you rubbed the broad expanse of his back, letting your scent coat him entirely.

“I just..” König raised up and pressed into your neck firmly, “I never want to leave you alone again.”

“And I’ll always be by your side,” you assured him.

After another few minutes of nuzzling you, taking turns on each side of your neck to ensure you were fully covered, König finally pulled back to look you in the eyes.

You could smell yourself on him, him on you, both of you, you.

“You’re mine,” he leaned in close, “always and forever.”

“Always,” you leaned in close until your lips were but an inch apart.

Ever so slowly, he leaned forth, pressing his lips against yours in a tentative kiss. Gentle, fearful, frightened even. He felt so light that you feared he might fly away, wings of a butterfly up up and away. You laced your fingers into his hair to tether him to earth, to you, to the promises you made but didn’t know if you could keep.

His lips felt like feathers and childish promises for futile future. The hands he gently took your cheek with were of marble and leather, hardened by battles long since won by men who deserved to run back but were instead forced to march forth. He was eternal might and glory, blood sweat and tears shed by a monolith of marble, but with you he came apart like a thousand shards of porcelain. You wanted to gather each piece, put it back together with gold, but his vase had been shattered too many times. He was a lost cause but you wanted to love him regardless.

He pulled back, but you wanted more. You tried to pull him in again but he resisted.

You lay there in his nest, watching each other for another movement, but none came. You were safe and comfortable.

He let you kiss him again, this time softening into your touch. You were terrified that when you pulled back, he'd be gone. He had been a ghost in his own home, haunting you with his melancholy. Now, you could feel his heart beat with a terrified joy. You clenched over his heart, then let yourself fall back into your nest.

The two of you were dead walkers. You had crawled from the grave long ago, but when you lay together, you felt your heart beat for the first time, throbbing with the ache of disuse and rot rooting through the flesh. With each moment you looked into his eyes, you could see him wake up too. His cheeks were flushed with blood, his eyes bloodshot from years of tears being unleashed in one sitting. There would be more to come, but not now.

Now, for the first time since you both met, you could love.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

[novelconcepts]

In watching more interviews with Liv about Van and the escalation of Van's pragmatism to such dark degrees, I find myself genuinely baffled that anyone could ever think Van the bad guy. I mean, I'm perplexed at finding ANY of these girls The Bad Guy. The bad guy is the situation. It's being lost. It's freezing. It's starving. It's being scraped down to the barest bone of being alive. They make choices that might be snippy, or cruel, or hard-headed, sure--Shauna refusing to just hash it out with Jackie; Jackie being too stubborn to come inside; Taissa refusing to discuss her situation plainly; etc--but by the time we reach the end of season 2, it doesn't even matter. Petty bullshit doesn't matter. Jealousy doesn't matter. Those things are still going to be present and complicated, because--for all their choices, for all the distancing they're trying to do--these kids ARE still human beings. But it isn't the point.

The point is survival. Plain, simple, straightforward. Van's pragmatism is survival. It is the difference between living another day with blood on your teeth or dying pretty. It is the difference between fighting forward through the fire and the snow and the hell of it all, and laying down to die. Van knowing, in watching the ritual violence of Shauna beating Lottie nearly the death, that they will be killing and eating one another soon. Van coming up with the cards for the hunt. Van not blinking when the moment comes, Van choosing a weapon that doubles as a tool to bring the body back, Van refusing to apologize for staying alive--it's not evil. It's not Bad Guy behavior. It's purely about survival, because there is nothing else left to her--or to any of them. They can play the pretty little Sweet Angel Girl game and die, or they can get dirty, bloody, horrific and fight. Van chooses the fight. Van chooses to fight for herself, for her lover, for her team, even knowing not everyone is going to make it out...because the alternate path there is that no one makes it out. Van knew the baby wouldn't live. Van knows the rest of them won't, either. Not unless they start making the hard choices.

And, honestly, the fact that Van sees this narrative coming. Comes up with this plan. Brings out the cards. To me, that is the opposite of Bad Behavior. That is as close to justice as anyone can find in the wilderness. If someone else came up with an idea, maybe it would have come down to voting--but that would have had such a human element to it, with bitterness or hostility or whatever ultimately petty shit always comes of humans selecting who to Other. The cards don't leave room for that. It isn't fair, because the situation isn't fair, because Man vs. Nature isn't fair, but it's as close to a just system as they could possibly find. It's the kindest solution to an unwinnable game. Not to bring it back to American Gods again, but all I can think is "it's easy, there's a trick to it: you do it, or you die." Van gave them that.

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you break your arm in the plane crash, Jackie seems to be helping you out more than usual and you're left wondering why.

warning/s: mentions of a plane crash, amputation, broken bones.. the usual warnings that come with Yellowjackets lol.

author's note: this has been ready for a while now, as have a few other things whilst i work on some old requests. sorry for the delay with everything - i’ve been very busy, but i hope you like this two part jackie imagine :)

I could hear screaming and shouting, there was smoke everywhere and, despite my confusion, I knew I needed to get out of here before the smoke suffocated me.

Clipping off my seatbelt, I scrambled out of the aisle and briefly looked around, unable to make sense of anything, and then my head was spinning and I couldn't stay here any longer. Fresh air. I needed to breathe and then I could work out what was what.

Following the sound of screaming seemed counterproductive, but that was the way out, so I dragged my body – which felt like it had been thrown around in a blender – out the back of the plane and to... the middle of the forest?

The team. Some of them were running around, doing all sorts I couldn't seem to focus on, whilst others were bent over, catching their breath, appearing dazed and confused like me. I didn't get long to think about how I'd ended up here when, suddenly, someone shoved into me from behind and I fell forward, landing right on my outstretched arm.

A scream escaped my lips at the pain that struck, it breaking through the fog of confusion. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pricking them instinctively, and tried to breathe through the pain. Pushing myself up with my other hand, I grimaced at the slight movement of my left arm, which had to be broken considering I couldn't do anything with it.

It wasn't until after all the chaos, after everybody had stopped screaming and vomiting and crying, that the realisation that our plane had crashed hit us. And by then, I was too preoccupied with my broken arm. Imagine coming out of a plane crash unscathed, only to get pushed down and left with a broken arm. Very stupid, indeed.

Surprisingly, Misty was the only one who could work under pressure, barely fazed by everything happening and instead tending to everyone's injuries as quickly as she could. Upon realising I'd broken my arm, she immediately made me her best attempt at a splint using some sticks and an old ripped shirt, as well as helping me into a makeshift sling using the same ripped shirt. Given the circumstances, it was as good as a cast, but she didn't know the extent of the damage and I couldn't do anything more.

The first two days were a struggle, mainly because nobody knew what to do nor where to go. That was when the horrible acceptance of losing several members of our team, including one of our coaches, hit everyone hard. We all pitched in to bury them, though I wasn't able to do much with my arm, and held a funeral for them.

After the funeral ended, everybody stuck together in the vicinity of the crash. A few lingered away, probably trying to figure out where the hell we were, but I just wanted a sense of familiarity and stayed to open my suitcase which I'd luckily found. Unfortunately for me, the zipper required two hands, and only one of mine seemed to be available right now.

"Hey."

I sighed, looking up to see Jackie Taylor, the soccer team captain, standing there with her arms hugging herself. I hadn't spoken to her properly since before we set off, she'd mostly just stuck with Shauna, her best friend.

"Hey," I greeted, unsure what she wanted.

She nodded to my terrible sling. "How's your arm?"

"Very painful," I admitted, "but coach literally lost his leg, so I can't complain."

She frowned at my words, but it wasn't exactly an exaggeration. Misty had quite literally chopped Coach Scott's leg off when he got it trapped under the wing of the plane, and it wasn't an easy thing to deal with physically or mentally. A broken arm was nothing compared to an amputation.

"How are you?" I asked. She didn't look hurt, just tired and scared like the rest of us.

She shrugged helplessly, and I didn't need any elaboration. I nodded, acknowledging her, and then she said, "Do you need help with whatever you're doing?"

I looked down, remembering the dumb suitcase I couldn't open. "That would be great actually, yes. Can you hold it whilst I unzip it?"

She nodded and kneeled down, acting as my other hand whilst I unzipped my suitcase. It was a relief to finally open it, seeing everything was as I'd left it before we boarded the plane. That felt like a lifetime ago now.

"If you need help with anything else, just ask," Jackie said, making me look up to see her watching me.

Grateful, I offered her a small smile. "Thanks, Jackie."

She returned the smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. She'd been the first to offer her help in the first place, since everyone was preoccupied by their own trauma, so I appreciated it. Truthfully, the last person I expected to offer help was Jackie, since she usually thought of herself first.

"You should get some medication off Misty," she added. "It'll help with the pain."

I swallowed hard, smile fading. "Right. Thanks."

She nodded and left, glancing at me once more as she did. I didn't really question it as I looked back at my suitcase, distracting myself from the pain.

Later that day, Misty found me instead, immediately pouring out the medication she'd collated from everyone's suitcases in front of me.

"Misty, what are you–?"

"I've got some pills for you," she said nonchalantly.

"Oh, my arm doesn't hurt that much," I lied. "Coach needs–"

"There's enough for Ben, silly," she said with a laugh, making me quirk a brow. "Besides, it's not for your pain, though it will help with that, it's for the inflammation. Without surgery, that's gonna take a while to heal and anything we have can help."

I sighed, nodding. "Alright. Thanks."

"I'll give you them every dose," she said, before holding out two pills. "Here you go."

I silently accepted them, knowing they'd help but feeling bad that I'd be taking them when Coach Scott needed them more.

—

Finding the lake and the cabin was a lifesaver, literally. We needed water and somewhere to sleep that wasn't so out in the open, and I was already struggling to sleep as it was so at least being inside made it a little easier.

Oddly enough, over the next few days since moving into the cabin, I'd noticed Jackie staring at me. If I ever caught her eye, she'd look the other way or flash me a smile before awkwardly doing something else. I wasn't sure what was up, and it only became more questionable when she'd help me out if I needed it.

There was one time when I was trying to pull my shoes on, but struggling to tie the laces with my one good arm.

"Here, I got it," she said, coming out of nowhere to lean down in front of me and take over.

I watched her with curiosity, letting her tie my laces. She must've caught me staring as she looked up, eyes bright as they met mine.

"What?" she asked, standing back up.

I shook my head. "Nothing... thanks."

She nodded, smiling a little before leaving me be. And that wasn't it. Other times I'd be trying to carry something and she'd take it from me without a word, or I'd be pulling on a shirt and she'd quite literally help me into it. It was odd, because she'd never paid me any mind before, and wasn't very helpful to others. The other girls aided me when they occasionally saw me struggling, but not as much as Jackie.

Another time, I was struggling to sleep in my makeshift bed on the floor of the cabin. Everybody had fallen asleep hours ago, but my movement was restricted because of my arm and the shuffling I was doing was only bothering me more.

"You move a lot," a voice said in the firelight, startling me.

I looked over the room, past my sleeping team members, and saw it was Jackie laying on her side next to Shauna but facing me.

"Sorry," I mumbled guiltily. "Did I wake you?"

She shrugged, not answering my question, before saying, "Try elevating your arm."

"What?"

"That's why you can't sleep, right?" she asked.

I blinked, surprised she'd even noticed. "Yeah."

She sat up slowly, stretching, before crossing the room to grab what looked like a jacket. My eyes followed her as she moved, then she rolled it up before kneeling down beside me and placing it underneath my bad arm. I winced as she did so carefully, glancing at me apologetically, but then I relaxed my arm on top of the jacket and breathed out slowly.

"Is that better?" she asked quietly. "Won't be touching the ground now."

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Jackie."

"No problem," she said, before returning to her bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I replied, very tired and very confused.

That was when I knew I needed to ask her why she was being so considerate, so out of character, at least to me anyway. The next morning, after I'd done the one thing I could do with my arm which was collecting water from the lake when we needed it, I was bringing it to Akilah who was boiling it over the fire. Unfortunately, I tripped over a stone on the way, almost dropping the bucket. Jackie came out of nowhere, taking it from my hand and leaving it with Akilah before returning to me.

"You okay?" she asked with a raised brow, hand wavering over my arm.

I tilted my head curiously. "I– yeah. I just..."

She smiled with confusion, shaking her head. "What is it?"

I stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "Why do you keep helping me? Checking on me?"

She scoffed playfully, looking away before saying, "I'm still your captain. Gotta make sure the team's okay, right?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but I didn't have anything else to believe, so I gave in with a nod. "Yeah..."

"Take it easy," she said, eyes flickering to my arm before she left me.

—

Since we'd been stranded here, I'd only rinsed off in the lake once. That was a week ago when we found it, but I knew I needed to bathe properly and, after taking my shower gel, shampoo and conditioner, I headed for the lake. Washing my body was a struggle because of my arm, which had swollen so much to the point that even accidentally grazing my body with it sent a shot of pain in me.

I managed to wash my body the best I could, getting my tee-shirt sling wet but unable to do much else, then struggled to wash my hair. It was stupid, the fact that I couldn't even open a bottle of shampoo with one hand and squeeze it out. So much that I got overwhelmed with how useless I'd been feeling lately and threw it behind me onto the shore. Sulking, I stayed sitting in the water, submerged up to my legs in my bra and underwear.

I missed home. I missed my mum and my dad and my sister. I missed playing soccer. I even missed school. But most importantly, I missed having two working arms and not constantly being in pain. The longer we stayed out here, the more we established a routine, the less likely it felt we would be rescued. It was all piling on top of me, my uselessness being the cherry on top.

Staring out into the horizon, I frowned. Ten more minutes must have passed with me giving up on washing my hair when I heard footsteps not far behind me. I didn't bother turning around, but then whoever it was called me.

"Hey!"

Sighing deeply, I glanced over my shoulder, so fed up with everything that even my usual surprise at Jackie's presence didn't affect me.

"You not coming out?" she asked, stood at the edge of the water, hands on her hips.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and ignored her, looking forward again. Maybe she'd get the hint and leave me alone. Of course, she didn't.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.

"Nothing," I said, voice muffled.

I heard her sigh from behind me before her footsteps approached me, her feet splashing in the water.

"I'm bathing," I told her knowingly. "A little privacy would be nice."

She snorted with amusement before I heard her shuffling. Confused, I turned around and saw her pulling off her shorts before throwing them onto the rocky shore with her slippers, leaving her in her underwear and tee shirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked, puzzled.

She ignored me, instead grabbing the shampoo bottle I'd thrown back. Glancing at it and to me, she quirked a brow sarcastically. "This yours?"

I rolled my eyes and faced forward again, not bothering to acknowledge her presence as she seemed to be approaching me again. Only when she stood in front of me, blocking my view, and kneeled down to look at me was I forced to meet her gaze.

"D'you need help?" she asked softly, considerately.

Embarrassed, I looked down to my knees. Was it that obvious that I was struggling? Why was she the only one to check on me? The only one to notice? Why did she even care?

"Will you let me help you?" she asked when I didn't speak, and I finally looked up.

"Why?" I asked helplessly. "What's the point?"

She sat down cross-legged, unbothered by the water that was lapping against the bottom of her shirt. "For one, the smell in the cabin would go down significantly."

Realising she was joking, humour sparkling in her earth-coloured eyes, I scoffed and looked the other way. She began to laugh before patting my knee.

"Come on," she pleaded, laughter fading into a hopeful smile. "Please."

I didn't want anybody's help, especially not hers. But I needed it, and if she was being so kind as to come out here just to make sure I was okay, maybe it wasn't all so bad.

With a reluctant nod, I let her wash my hair for me, glad I wouldn't have to cause an ache in my other arm trying to do it. It was quiet as she did it, other than when she instructed me to dip my head in the water to wash out the shampoo and conditioner. Her fingers were delicate when she worked, massaging my head and putting me at ease instantly. I was still surprised at her aid, considering she'd always been preoccupied by herself or Shauna.

After I was done, she moved back in front of me, about to speak, but then her eyes caught sight of my swollen arm in my cast and widened.

"Woah, that looks painful," she noticed.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Are you taking the medicine Misty is giving you?" she asked with concern.

I tried not to hesitate as I nodded, lying. Truthfully, I hadn't been taking the medicine since a few days ago, as I knew Coach Scott's leg was at risk of infection if he didn't have enough. Besides, I'd taken some and the swelling had been going down. This was a bad day is all. Kind of.

"Okay, well...," she started, eyes lingering on my arm with an unreadable expression, before she stood up and held out her hand. "You're done. Come on."

I accepted her hand and she led me back to the shore, kindly helping me back into my clothes. After pulling her shorts and shoes on, I instantly hugged her with my good arm, certainly surprising her.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said sincerely, pulling back and seeing her raised eyebrows. "You don't know how good you're being."

She smiled, preoccupied. "Don't. I'm just helping."

I begged to differ, but she wasn't in the mood to hear it and I wasn't going to fight her on it. Instead, I just offered her a small smile before we both headed back to the cabin together.

Later that day, I was sat in the woods for some alone time, perched on a log and reading my book, when suddenly something was thrown right at me, startling me.

"What the hell?!" Jackie shouted, and I looked up to see she'd found me and was furious.

Confused, I looked to see what she'd thrown at me, only to realise it was the medication I hadn't been taking. Oh, no.

"You aren't taking it!" she shouted with exasperation.

I looked up to her, still baffled. "How did you even–”

"I'm not stupid," she snapped, before taking a deep breath to contain herself.

"It doesn't matter," I said calmly. "Coach needs them more. He's literally lost his leg and–"

"Why do you keep belittling your injury?!" she asked in a broken voice. "Nobody needs a hero, Y/N, just take the damn meds!"

The patronising tone she was using was it for me, and I suddenly stood up, unable to let her make me feel bad anymore.

"Why the hell do you even care, Jackie?" I retorted.

Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows before crossing her arms and avoiding my eyes. "I'm the cap–"

"Nobody gives a shit about that anymore!" I cut her off, before glaring at her. "You never paid me any mind before, so what gives now, huh? Did Jackie fucking Taylor suddenly grow a heart?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously, why the hell do you care all of a sudden?" I continued. "Why do you–?"

"Because it's my damn fault!" she said, and my anger was momentarily replaced by further confusion. She continued to ramble, "I didn't mean to, but the plane was on fire and Shauna was going to get hurt and I just rushed out of there without thinking and I didn't mean to push you and then you broke your arm and I feel guilty, okay?!"

Furrowing my brows, I studied her as she took a deep breath. Though she was stressed by her admission of guilt, I was oddly calm.

"That was just an accident," I said, unsure why it mattered to her so much. "If that's why you've been helping me, why you've been keeping an eye on me... you can stop. I'm not dying."

"Yeah, now," she said knowingly, guilt-laden eyes meeting mine, "but when a fucking bear comes out of nowhere and tries to eat you, what are you gonna do with one arm?"

It took me a second to realise she was dead serious, and I tried very hard not to smile.

"If a bear tried to eat me and I had my arm, I'd still get eaten," I said matter-of-factly. "You think I can take on a bear?"

She groaned with discontent. "You don't get it!"

I covered my mouth, struggling not to smile in front of her and piss her off more. She only fixed me with a classic Jackie glare.

"Just take the fucking meds," she said threateningly, in a way that was reminiscent of a cute dog barking, before storming off.

Admittedly, I had to pause and think about what the hell just happened, still a little lost. All this time, she'd been helping me out of guilt? She blamed herself for my broken arm? It was an accident and she couldn't have known what would happen. Tensions were high, it was chaos! I couldn't blame her even if I tried. It was almost laughable how she'd reacted, though at least it explained her sudden interest in my welfare.

When I returned to the cabin after her outburst, she glanced at me once but didn't bother speaking to me. And when I thought it would be a temporary thing, she began to ignore me over the next few days, actively avoiding me. If it weren't to share the cabin to sleep, she'd either completely leave the space I was in or go as far away from me as she possibly could. Could've been guilt, anger or embarrassment, I wasn't sure, but I knew it was extremely childish.

I was filling up a bottle of water from our basin when she rounded the corner and saw me, clearly wanting to do the same judging from her own bottle in hand. One glance my way and she was ready to leave, but I decided to make the first move after a week of not speaking.

"I'm not gonna bite," I pointed out.

She clenched her jaw with indifference. "I know."

A smile ghosted my lips as I focused on filling my bottle, and she surprisingly approached the basin and did the same. It was silent, the sound of our movement filling the air, but she was still tense beside me. It felt all wrong, especially after how supportive she'd been since we got here.

"I'm taking my medicine by the way," I said casually, but I wanted her to know that she hadn't wasted her breath. I'd listened.

"That's good," she spoke after a moment, trying not to sound too bothered.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to, but then this angry soccer player who was crushing under the immense guilt from foreshadowing my improbable yet supposedly imminent death by bear made me feel bad," I continued calmly.

She paused her action, glancing at me with a look of disbelief, and I couldn't hold in my laughter any longer. Her expression was priceless.

"Asshole," she muttered, but she was clearly trying not to smile.

I capped my bottle before saying, "This is awkward. Stop avoiding me, please. I don't hate you or anything. And you don't need to keep checking on me out of guilt. We can just... go back to normal, whatever that was."

She gave me a disapproving glance. "It wasn't just out of guilt."

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Believe it or not, Y/N, I do care about you," she said, surprising me. And then she added quickly, "I care about everyone here."

Heart warming at her words, I began to feel bad for what I'd said to her when we argued. "Thanks," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry for what I said, about you suddenly growing a heart. Wasn't nice at all. Or true."

She shrugged awkwardly, looking down. "It's okay. I've been a bit selfish lately. I know the girls say it. Even Shauna thinks it.”

I looked over at her, noticing the conflicted expression she wore. Underneath her confident, cool girl demeanour was just a normal teenager like everyone else, and right now, she looked more and more like that.

"Not always," I reminded her, hoping she knew that I was still grateful for what she'd done for me since the crash, guilt or no guilt.

She exhaled softly, an appreciative smile on her lips, and I was beginning to question if breaking my arm was worth giving me a reason to get to know Jackie Taylor in a different way.

—

When there wasn't the threat of survival creeping up on us, or the fear of being stranded away from our lives back home forever, there was complete and utter boredom. There was only so many times you could play the same card games or read the same books without wanting to smack your head against a wall.

I realised soon enough that I missed playing soccer and one  day when I was having a wander near the cabin, I began to subconsciously kick around an acorn. That was where acorn soccer began. Now, whenever I was fed up doing the same thing all the time, I'd go into a little clearing near the cabin and start kicking around an acorn to have a sense of normalcy.

This time, as I was dribbling the acorn around some sticks, I heard someone approaching and glanced up to see it was Jackie.

"What are you doing?" she asked with both amusement and curiosity.

"Playing soccer," I said like it was obvious, before kicking the acorn in the air towards her. Instinctively, she caught it with her foot, stabilising it and letting it hit the ground gently. I cracked a smile, saying, "Someone's not lost their touch."

She rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "So this is where you disappear to?"

I quirked a brow. "Why? You keeping tabs?"

"You wish you were that interesting," she retorted, kicking around the acorn.

"Interesting enough for you to track down, clearly," I teased.

She glanced at me with a glint of humour in her eyes. "Maybe I just needed to make sure the bear didn't get you."

I grinned. "Aw, you do care! Nice to know you have my back."

At this, she finally let out a laugh, teeth showing and eyes sparkling and in such a way that I couldn't help but admire how pretty she looked right now.

"Okay, where's the goal?" she asked after a moment, pausing from kicking around the acorn.

"What?"

She gave me a look. "I'm bored too, now c'mon."

I chuckled and began to explain to her the unimpressive yet fulfilling setup I had, which consisted of me kicking the acorn between two trees as a 'net'. Once she was caught up, we found a bigger acorn together and began to play.

It was almost like we were back at soccer practice, playing and having fun and not having to worry about any impending doom. I'd forgotten how good it could feel to just be, and I'd especially forgotten how good Jackie was at soccer, making for the perfect opponent.

She scored for the third time and raised her hands in the air as she cheered for herself. "Hell yeah!"

"You see, this is why we got to nationals," I reminded her, making her laugh.

"God, I forgot how fun soccer was," she said with a sigh. "Clever idea with the acorn."

I shrugged. "Boredom struck. Creativity thrived."

She snickered, hands on her hips, before nodding at my arm. "Should you even be playing with your arm like that?"

I quirked a brow. "What you gonna do? Rat me out to Misty?"

She snorted with amusement. "She's too busy with Coach Scott to care."

I tried not to laugh, knowing Misty had been enjoying herself a little too much with looking after Coach Scott and his leg. It was clear she liked him, and though he was aware of how inappropriate it was, he had no choice but to accept her help. Yeah, the last thing on Misty's mind was if I was playing acorn soccer or not.

"Okay, you ready for the next one?" Jackie asked, already kicking the acorn into the centre to start again. "I might just take it easy on you this time. Y'know, because you're at a disadvantage."

I glared at her playfully, ignoring the way her cocky grin made me feel. "Game on, Taylor."

—

Since that point, I'd found myself looking out for Jackie a little more than usual. I guess you could say she'd piqued my interest more than she ever had. Back home, she was my team captain and that was it. We never really hung out outside of practice or soccer parties because our circles never crossed over. Now though, with her looking out for me and hanging out with me more, I was beginning to develop a little crush on her.

I would've been insane not to. She was funny, flirty, smart and she always knew what she wanted. And it was probably silly of me to crush on the one girl I could never get, but it certainly made my current situation a bit more manageable. Nothing like a teenage crush to get your mind off reality.

I liked to think I was subtle with it, the whole checking out Jackie every now and then. It was only when she was a fair distance away and there was no chance she would spot me. But one morning, as I was helping Akilah boil some more water from the lake, I spotted Jackie walking out of the cabin with Shauna. It was nothing different, but for some reason, she just looked extra stunning this morning. I wasn't sure what it was – possibly my own delusion – but I couldn't stop stealing looks at her.

And then she glanced my way, catching my eye, and before I could even react, embarrassed I'd been caught out, a knowing smile appeared on her lips and she winked playfully before paying her attention back to Shauna. I swallowed, flustered, and didn't look at her again for the rest of the day. Stupid crush.

[elliespeach]

tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them. 

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar. 

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness. 

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her. 

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth. 

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it. 

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.” 

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin. 

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with. 

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet. 

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.” 

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl. 

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you. 

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,” 

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.” 

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?” 

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,” 

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination. 

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat. 

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face. 

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you. 

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.” 

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop. 

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album. 

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains. 

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind? 

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’. 

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams. 

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?   

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable. 

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own. 

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable. 

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas. 

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post. 

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch. 

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds. 

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment. 

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way. 

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off. 

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman. 

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up. 

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock. 

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed. 

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least. 

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends? 

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself. 

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that. 

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked. 

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner. 

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all. 

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.  

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond. 

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time 

shauna: like 8 ish? 

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude 

cat: yeah wtf 

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight 

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere. 

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over. 

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

[lotties-ashwagandha]

when the world becomes small

shauna sadecki x reader, word count 2k

amid the chaos of moving into your new house, you start to develop a relationship with one of your new neighbors. AU where shauna and jeff are divorced. (sfw) im in a writing slump help

You’re shocked that the entire world hasn’t drowned by the time the rain stops. It’s been storming for days, and any relief from it you’ve received has been too brief to call a break. Moving in has been hell without any help – your memories of dragging new furniture into the house through the rain and praying nothing would ruin are less than fond. You have already discovered a leak in the basement, too, where no number of towels or buckets can save you from the annoyance of mild flooding. 

It’s the first day the sun’s come out that you truly feel welcome in your new home. Halls once gloomy and dark in the stormy shadows now glow in golden afternoon sunlight, and as you put on your boots and step into the garden, you begin to understand again why you’d chosen to buy this house to begin with. The peace here is incredible. 

You’re in need of a fresh start – moving to New Jersey seemed once to be the answer. You’ve gotten a new job with colleagues you don’t loathe, and you feel finally free from the setbacks of your old life. 

The neighborhood you moved into proves to be just as keen on keeping their privacy as you are. Hardly anyone has introduced themselves in the week you have lived in your new house so far, hospitality far from free-flowing in comparison to that of the small town you grew up in. There was one girl who introduced herself, a teenager you know had been ordered by her mother to welcome you on behalf of the family, but she was more interested in leaving than she had been to welcome you to the neighborhood. Her welcome didn’t count. 

You are content with the solitude, anyway. The sun is out, and you are in the yard planning space for your garden. Your new place has room enough for one as big as you’d like. You make a mental note of everything you want to plant. 

From the corner of your eye you spot movement in the shrubs along the split-rail garden fence. Overgrown plants from the last owners of the house decorate the backyard and make it a prime habitat for rabbits this time of year. Though you will have to cut some of it down later to fix your yard out of becoming a jungle, it brings you joy to watch rabbits scurry under your fence to come get food or take it home. 

You sit down on the steps of the back porch. You watch as they run and jump and hide, letting the sun soak into you as you watch the rabbits as entertainment. Planning the garden could wait. 

“It's the worst this time of year,” someone says from nearby, and you almost jump out of your skin. You look over the garden fence — it only reaches your hips in height — to see a woman standing at the edge of it near an already-planted garden of her own. “The rabbits,” the woman clarifies, noticing your confusion and the scattering of your thoughts in her sudden presence. “As soon as the snow melts, an army of them comes in. They’re hell for my tomatoes.” 

You gather your wits, standing from the porch and making your way to the edge of the fence to meet her. The woman watches you carefully, analyzing you in a way that makes you wonder how much she can tell of you from first impressions. Her dark eyes are scrutinizing. 

“Shauna,” she introduces herself, and extends her hand over the garden fence for you to shake. You introduce yourself as well, and she nods with a knowing expression. 

“Callie,” you say, “she’s your daughter, isn’t she? She came over the other day to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

Shauna sighs, and you can tell she’s resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I should have done it myself. I made her do it. I doubt she was pleasant company.” 

“No, I loved having her over,” you lie. The girl had been rude to you, exceedingly, but you can’t find it in you to insult the woman before you through insulting her daughter. Even so, Shauna seems slightly surprised by your lie that Callie was good company. 

Shauna’s head turns at the rustling of shrubbery at the far edge of the fence — a rabbit emerges, and settles in the middle of your yard. Something you’re unable to place crosses into her expression, something dark that disappears in the afternoon sun just as soon as you’ve noticed it. Shauna turns her attention back to you. 

“I can take care of the rabbit problem for you.” 

You shake your head. You wonder why she’s so invested in the rabbits, but you don’t want to ask. “I don’t mind them. They bring life to the place.” 

“So do you,” Shauna says. “No one’s lived here for years. To have someone like you move in… it’s in good hands.” 

You aren’t sure what to respond. You weren’t expecting any compliments from her, and to receive them makes you nervous. She’s beautiful, and already you feel the depth of her intelligence, her intuition. There’s power in her gaze as it rests upon you. 

“You should come over for dinner some night,” she says suddenly. She looks kind again, amicable. “Callie usually goes to her dad’s on the weekends. Do you have any plans on Sunday?” 

You don’t, and you tell her so — her relief is obvious, and quickly the two of you make plans to meet Sunday night. When you head back into your house, your interaction with her plays back in your mind on repeat. You’re a bit in shock of it, how quickly you’ve just made plans with the woman who lives next door. You try to imagine it all playing out on Sunday – you try to imagine other compliments she could give you and how it would feel when she gave them. You picture the delight in her eyes at seeing you when you arrive.  

Sunday goes better than you ever could have planned – the two of you talk for hours, sharing a bottle of wine between you and having dinner. You relish in Shauna’s presence, and find comfort in her words and in every bit of attention she spares you. She knows more about you than most at the end of the night, and you know next to nothing about her. You can see the care with which she selects what to reveal to you about her life, and don’t pry for more than she’s willing to give. 

It becomes a regular occasion. Every Sunday you go next door to Shauna’s house in the afternoon and the two of you sit on her patio and talk – words flow like rivers between you, endless and sustaining you. You do most of the talking, and you can tell she prefers to keep it that way, but every once in a while you get stories out of her about raising Callie or how much of a waste of time her ex-husband was or her daydreams of the places she wishes she could go and the things she wishes she could have time to do. Sometimes she comes over during weekdays, just for a moment to drop off plants she’s bought for your garden that you’ve talked about getting or to find an escape from the tribulations of her own home. 

Spring morphs into summer within a few weeks. Your gardens are flourishing, you help each other with work in them. You abide by every suggestion of Shauna’s of what you should and shouldn’t plant, and how to sustain them as she sustains you. You’ve become enchanted by her, living through each week through the promise of Sundays when you’re guaranteed her time. Your thoughts are of her during every moment you’re without her. 

The heat of summer is interrupted when the rain comes back, and this time it’s welcomed. You’re confined to her sunroom instead of the outside bliss of the porch. Shauna’s in the kitchen, pouring the two of you drinks while you watch the rain fall. You feel suspended in time – everything stops in the rain, the world shrinks to the two of you as the horizon becomes a blur and you’re the only ones left in focus. 

Shauna comes back with drinks. Whiskey this time, not wine. ‘It goes better with the rain,’ she tells you, and you take the glass she offers. The taste of it is expensive, burns on your tongue pleasantly. 

Shauna doesn’t sit down by you in the sunroom, but goes to examine some of the plants she has shelved on wooden stands. There’s an abundance of them, you’re a bit jealous of her collection. 

“Callie’s going off to college in a few weeks,” Shauna says suddenly. You look over to her but her eyes are fixed out the window. She’s enchanted by the intimacy of the rain just as you are. “You could come over more often. Any time you want, really, once she’s gone. I don’t know if you’d like that.” 

She glances at you for a moment before turning her eyes back to the rain – checking to see if you would oblige her desire, or if it offended you, as if you would suddenly change your mind on the entire idea of her and run out screaming and throwing things like a psychopath. 

“I would like that,” you agree, suppressing a smile when relief visibly floods over her. It prompts you to add to her request, devise your own way of inviting her into your company more. “I saw an advertisement the other day for a farmer’s market being hosted by this wellness center about an hour away. It’s a bit of a drive, but apparently it’s a really big deal, it’s hosted every summer. I was thinking we could go together this Friday.” 

Shauna nods. You recognize the contentment that comes over her. “You have to drive,” she commands. A way of adding order to the suspected chaos of joy, to stand in front of it and guard it with her words. 

You nod, silent agreement to her terms. The two of you are immersed in peaceful silence for a few minutes – it’s not uncommon between you, just to sit in one another’s company, intimacy in the known safety of being taken into your own thoughts. 

“I hate the rain,” Shauna admits quietly. She takes a sip of her drink. “It makes the world feel small.” 

You stand, coming to her side to look out the window with her. You hear thunder in the distance amid the gentle pattering of rain. 

“That’s what I love about it,” you tell her. Confusion spreads over her features that prompts you to explain. “When the world becomes small, it becomes ours.” 

You know how horribly sappy it sounds, how trivial and cliche, but you can’t stop yourself from admitting to it. Shauna’s expression lightens, and as her gaze rests upon you once more you see that your words have provided her with comfort. 

You reach for her hands, she lets you take them in your own. Yet one of her hands parts from yours, comes up to rest at your jaw, then the back of your neck, and you close the distance between you as she pulls you toward her, your lips finding hers. The kiss is soft, leaves you feeling drunk afterwards on much more than the few sips of whiskey you’ve had. The love that permeates her touch, the sweetness of the longing that fills her kiss as she pulls you in again has your head spinning. You’ve wanted this since you met her, have imagined it a thousand different times in a thousand different ways, but the reality is better than anything you could have dreamed up on your own. 

Shauna steps forward, turns to push you gently against the wall. The world becomes smaller – it doesn’t exist outside of her touch. For as long as it can last your reality is composed only of the love in her eyes, and the desire in her kiss, and the willingness with which she gives it all to you. You realize it is not the rain that makes the world feel small, it is her – that in every moment the great expanse of the horizon fades closer to nothingness, and the view you have of the woman before you is all you need as the promise of fortune. 

[a-little-revolution]

Do you know of any resources where I may be able to find visual references of people with proportionate dwarfism, particularly of the pituitary variety? I keep mainly finding medical diagrams of children while trying to search myself, which is a bit frustrating while trying to figure out how to accurately draw a character who is not only an adult but, yknow, a person..?

Hello! For any unaware, while most types of dwarfism are disproportionate (such as with Achrondroplasia - where some parts of the body like the arms and legs are short, while the trunk is average sized), proportionate dwarfism is usually caused by a growth hormone deficiency and is either a primordial dwarfism or seckel syndrome. See my previous post on types of dwarfism for more info!

So indeed it is hard to find good references for primordial dwarfism, particularly in adults, but I did find Shauna Rae!

Image Description: Shauna Rae, star of TV 14's "I am Shauna Rae" sits on a blue plush chair during an interview. Her small frame takes up only a third of the chair, and legs are just the length of it. She is white, with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. She wears a pink long sleeve shirt, blue jeans, and brown lace up boots. Her frame is small but proportionate, skinny, and her height is 3 foot 10.

Image Description: Here Shauna Rae sits next to a statue of young girl wearing a dress and holding a present in her lap. Shauna sits with her legs crossed and her hands on her lap, looking to her left into the distance as the statue is. She is the same size and height of the child statue at age 25. She wears black leggings with horizontal slits up them, with an oversized grey t shirt with similar slits on the chest. She wears golden flip flops and a turquoise anklet. Her hair is dirty blonde and shoulder length.

I cannot speak to her as an individual, but she does have an instagram account that could be helpful for photo references. Hope this helps!

[mayasaurusss]

Day fourteen: "Why don't you take that mask off? I want to see your face".

Your friend had the brilliant idea of going to the haunted house at the local fair. Something that you'd rather not do, but there was no hope in changing her mind.

"I don't want to go in there!" you cling at her shoulder, nails digging into her clothes. She swats you hand away, looking behind her to see how you look like a sad, scared puppy.

"We can't always stay at your home! And we can't always hang out at the kid's section of the fair! It's embarrassing".

You enter inside the haunted house: no one greets you, not the manager nor the scare actors. There's only darkness and old junk scattered on the floor. Given that there is no one around, the house results in less scary and more nerve wrecking.

You look into every corner to see if someone or something is lurking, waiting to strike; but there is nothing.

"Ugh...boring..." your friend's voice echoes inside the dark hall, far too loud. "I don't know how you can manage to find this boring. I am pissing myself over here" you walk closely behind her, tugging at her clothes.

Suddenly something shifts, your friend is yanked away from your grasp by something and you're left alone inside the hallway. "Where are you?!"

"I- -ver -ere-!". You can't make out the rest of her words; her voice is small and far from you.

Now, you are all alone. You can't see anything, can't hear anything, can't find a way back or forward. But then, a small huff of air tickles the skin of your neck, and you realize that it's someone's breath.

The person behind you huffs and puffs, like a rabid animal. Their breath echoes inside something, so you assume they must wear a mask.

A part of your brain tries to rationalize what is happening, but it's no use: you are inside a dark hallway, without knowledge of how to get out, with someone who is clearly stronger and faster than you and who God knows what could do to you.

You show them away, feeling their body fall to the ground and a grunt leaves their lips, before you run away, hearing their steps echo loudly behind you.

After bumping many times into corners and dead ends, you found a room to hide in. You can vaguely see the shape of a closet, a desk and an old bed frame. You hide under the desk, listening for any sounds.

After what feels like an eternity, the door creaks and someone enters. They are searching for you, stalking.

Their feet bump against something, the closet. The sound of metal scraping on the floor is loud and hurts your ears, the bed frame. Finally, you can see their black boots from under your hiding post, the desk. It's moved with surprising strength, now pushed to the right as you are left vulnerable.

They are wearing pitch black clothes, making them almost look invisible in the darkness of the room. You can only see their mask: torn apart eyes, coupled with a horrible full teeth smile. They stare at you, unmoving. They are wielding something, a knife maybe, but you can't understand if it's real or not.

Suddenly they are on top of you, pressing against your crotch and using one of their hands to hold up yours. You'd lie if you'd say you aren't terrified, but there is something weird about all of this. Mainly the fact that you can hear their labored breath and feel them squirming on top of you.

They look almost... turned on?

Maybe they're just tired from the run, maybe they are kinda turned on by you, but you will use this to your advantage. You lean into them, whispering in their ear, "Why don't you take that mask off? I'd like to see your face?".

They let go of you as if you have burnt them, their knife falling on the floor. You wriggle out of their grasp and run, exiting the room and leaving them behind.

Shauna yanks her mask off and leans on the wall, catching her breath. She must've been such a weirdo to get turned on by this little chase of yours, but she couldn't help it; you looked so good under her. She pushes her hair back with her fingers, dries her sweat off before sighing loudly. How is she supposed to go back to work now?

[lacyscabinet]

Nat comes back from hunting, and reader isn't there, and everyone didn't see her, and then Nat finds her in the small shack where shauna usually was with Jackie's body

Reader was huddled up with the sharpest knife, and it was covered in blood

(Basically reader was gonna commit)

I NEED ANGSTY 😓😓

SORRY IF THIS TRIGGERS :(

A/N: thank you for this request <3, as someone who has struggled and still struggles with sh, I feel like I need to spread a little message through this note, you are enough, I know that everybody says that, and I know that you might think it's pathetic, but it's true, it doesn't matter if you failed a test, broke up with your s/o, messed something up , did anything you regret doing or even not doing, or if you just don't feel like sticking around anymore, only one thing doesn't have a remedy. I struggle to believe it myself sometimes but in the end there is always something worth living for. Think about it. Emotional pep talk over, sorry for rambling, hope you'll like this fic<3

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS : knives, attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, sh, blood

You're losing me

Another day hunting, another day without finding any game, everyone was starving back at the cabin, and the frustration Nat felt was sickening.

And the team worshipping Lottie and going as far as saying that Lottie was providing more food than her made Natalie see red.

Travis wasn't helping much these days, grieving his little brother, long story short, everyone was on edge, you more than anyone else.

Nobody really knew how much you were struggling, you tried to open up with Natalie once and she didn't really catch up on the way you felt, she just thought you were really sad that day and comforted you.

But it was deeper than that, at first when you all got stranded, you were full of life, hopeful to get rescued and go on with your life, but as the days, the weeks and the moths went by, the bright glimmer in your eyes dimmed gradually, only leaving a hint of emotions when you cried, you felt drained, tired and sick, not the type of tired that a good night of sleep could fix and not the type of sick that painkillers could tame.

And then, with all the things you've seen, all the things you did, it was all in order to survive of course, but you still did it, you did it.

As time went by you started to think about the way you would be way more useful if you died, not only you wouldn't have to eat food, leaving more for your teammates, but you also would become food, and a part of you hoped that someday you'll become useful to the others.

You thought and you even dreamed about it, not feeling pain anymore, not being completely useless anymore, and one day, you took matters into your own hands.

That day, a shivering Natalie, fresh out of another failed hunt, looked for you in the cabin, simply to spend some time with you since she was gone in the snow the whole day, she searched and searched but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Mari? Have you seen Y/N" Natalie asked the girl who was busy cooking something definitely not nutritious enough to make the team feel full, Mari shrugged "I saw her this morning, she was going out, I thought she was looking for you"

Nat frowned, thanking Mari and going into the living room, a bunch of the girls sat there around the fire, and of course, you weren't there

"God..." Shauna spoke up, looking around the room "Has anyone seen my knife? I think I lost it"

The others shrugged as Natalie reached for the door, searching for you outside.

She was used to the ironically burning cold, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

Walking around the outside of the cabin she couldn't help but curse you and hope you were okay at the same time.

After a faint noise she froze in her spot, paying attention to her surroundings, and then her eyes widened when she heard a loud sob.

Looking around, she realized that there was only one place the cries could come from, the tiny wooden shelter next to the cabin.

As she walked closer to it the noises just got louder and louder, and she was sure that it was you, she could recognize your voice everywhere after all, but "why is she crying?" Nat kept thinking.

When she entered the shed, she couldn't believe her eyes, yes, you were there, but Shauna's knife was there as well, covered in blood.

At first her mind wanted to believe that you found game on your way to join Nat in her daily hunt, and you were just cutting up pieces of deer meat, but when she noticed your sleeves rolled up and deep vertical slits on your wrists all the hope in her mind was gone.

She was losing you.

And you yourself, couldn't feel a thing, after the painful cuts, you found a certain peace in the warm feeling of blood pouring out of your veins, a bold contrast compared to the freezing weather.

Nat cursed, she was shocked, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to be in shock, she had to help, she had to do something .

She was losing you.

"Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Please baby, can you hear me?" She cried out kneeling next to your body

You weren't completely unconscious, wobbling between the two worlds, and in a moment of consciousness, the only thing you could say was "Nat..."

She instantly replied, eagerly trying to get some more words from you "What baby?"

"You can... when it's time, you can...you can eat me, you have my permission...please do it Nat, you deserve to live"

Natalie couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth "No, no, don't say that, you are gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine"

And in that moment your vision went black.

She lost you.

For three hours. The worst three hours of her life.

As soon as you passed out, she picked you up and brought you back inside.

After seeing your conditions everyone was alarmed, Tai quickly stitched you up as best as she could, and then Nat proceeded to clean you up from all the blood you lost.

Coach Ben let the girls lay you down in his small room, and after that they all collectively decided to leave you alone with Nat for a while.

She held your hand the whole time, clinging to the feeling that you weren't gone, you couldn't be gone, your heart was still beating, a faint beating, but it was working.

When you opened your eyes, she was there, squeezing your hand with her own, eyes closed and a tear stained face

Just like in the movies you thought, but you weren't in a safe hospital at the end of a movie, you were at the start of your little personal hell.

And even when she held you tightly after she noticed your wide eyes, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else.

After all, maybe she really lost you that day.

A/N: I think I just poured my soul into this fic. Hope you enjoyed, stay safe <3

[tabithatwo]

it's yellowjackets / jennifer's body parallels time!

hi hello keep reading if you would like to hear about shauna/jennifer and jackie/needy, here's my totally noncomprehensive, very much off the cuff thoughts on this very complex and interesting dynamic!!

(i'm not getting into the basic parallels, i'm gonna assume you know the karyn kusama of it all, the heart necklace, the homoerotic female friendship, the death)

yellowjackets is so brilliant because it feeds you stereotypes and absolutely does not deliver on them. there could be an entire paper on each girl and how this is true for them specifically, but walk quickly with me because i want to get into the nitty gritty gory fun stuff! a brief oversimplified example: nat is referred to as a burnout, some would assume she's a loner based on that, but she cares about the team as a unit more than arguably anyone else. (this is common in real life too, our stereotypes often don't hold water in reality and yj reflects that beautifully!)

now to the jackie/shauna of it all. it would be oh so incredibly easy to look at jackie and think she's the jennifer of the duo. we are set up to see her as prettier, more popular, more demanding. but that illusion falls apart QUICKLY if you pay attention to the things that jackie actually says and does. she's not a mean girl. she's actually one of the kindest on the team. she doesn't pick on shauna, she clings. there are plenty of takes on this on tumblr so i won't exhaust it, my adhd loves to digress and meander but i'm forcing myself back onto the trodden path to this point: people look at the first few minutes of the pilot and they immediately decide that they know who these girls are. the audience typecasts jackie as a jennifer and shauna as a needy. the popular, bubbly girl and her shy, bookworm best friend.

a lot of people, especially casual viewers who don't study this show like its their job (god, wonder what that would be like lol) understandably stop here. but to me the BRILLIANCE of yj is that they don't actually make it HARD for you to undo your initial impressions. the material is there. it isn't hidden. it isn't some deeper self of each character that is unraveled throughout seasons. they push, push, push to see just how far they can carry our deeply held stereotypes/expectations. how forward and violent can shauna be, with viewers still clinging to a shy and sweet girl, who was really their own creation? how kind and honestly pathetic kicked-puppy can jackie be, with viewers still clinging to a mean girl, who was really their own creation? how far will we go to warp the characters intentions, so that we can keep them in the box we understand them in? they ask this of the viewer and of other characters, but AGAIN i digress.

so, while this might sit strangely with some, yes i think that jackie is very much aligned with needy if you peel back just one layer. but far above and beyond that, shauna is so very fucking jennifer.

the overall veneer is thinned immediately in yj. there isn't one girl in the stands and one on center stage. jackie and shauna are both on the team. they go to the same parties, they play the same sport, i would argue that shauna isn't even coded as "less pretty" (please note the word coded, because i'm not saying needy is literally less pretty than jennifer, i am simply saying that we have hair, makeup, clothing, glasses trends that we use to stereotype characters, are you with me?)

so now what? now these girls are both and neither. shauna thinks that she is the needy to jackie's jennifer. jackie wears the necklace and the introductory shots frame her as important. but we're already diverting from that set-up.

our absolute clearest common denominator here is one that i rarely see people mention funnily enough: JENNIFER IS A SUCCUBUS. she CONSUMES. she KILLS. she WANTS and she TAKES.

now before you get TOO EXCITED!!! i see some of you getting ready to say i'm a shauna shipman hater, put the pitchforks down!! shauna is one of my favorite characters of all time. i love her crazy ass so deeply that it's alarming. (i don't hate jennifer, either, for the record.) i love her largely for WHAT she is. i think sanitizing or sweetening her is a disservice. she's amazing and complex and wounded and capable of deep love. but she also, quite LITERALLY, consumes.

her character is sex and desire and violence and obsession and consumption. and it's AMAZING. she's POWERFUL. she's our main framing character (in this dynamic), rather than needy. the scripts are switched. jennifer dies and needy lives, and that's one story. that's clearer cut, simpler, made for a horror film. but here, jackie dies and shauna lives, and that story is deep and rich and goes on to include a whole lot more death and destruction and chaos.

shauna tells us herself that it excites her. she likes it. she is this girl. this woman. she reminisces and she recreates and she covets.

jennifer tries to consume needy, shauna literally consumes jackie.

there's more to this story, obviously. you could deep dive and mine for the intricacies of the set up and fall of stereotype and expectation, or collect all of the exact parallels. but i'll stick with a few, because this is a quick outburst of thought.

a huge one, who is taking whose boyfriend?

here's another personal favorite of mine, just for kicks

is it too complex to neatly tuck away? absolutely. they're different stories with different themes. shauna isn't simply a teenager possessed by a demon. it runs far deeper. as is the essence of this show.

but if you want to look at parallels, look at the one who has been holding the knife the whole time.

[strangesmallbard]

i’m seeing such takes about the baby lmao. smiling happy shauna with her living baby was in the dream world—the same eerie dream world that offered jackie warm cocoa and the acceptance of her best friend, that ghost laura lee/the Wilderness made sure lottie left. we don’t know a lot about the dream world, but we know it offers warmth, nourishment, and simplicity. cloth mother, if you will. (there’s a connection between the dream world + accepting nourishment + death that someone pointed out already, but i’m pivoting away from there right now.)

but like, we never see shauna with a living baby in the real world, trying to feed him in the freezing woods, knowing she cannibalized her best friend’s corpse for the chance that he would live. we also haven’t seen her recovering from the first birth—she could very well still get postpartum depression. in-between scenes of the dream world and the birth, however, we do see shauna as a parent to a living child; she’s resentful, she’s full of guilt all the time, she loves callie but never wanted to be a mother. it comes down to that.

shauna is an 18 year old who just gave birth to a dead baby in the most traumatic circumstances. she never really processed the fact that she’s giving birth to an entire human child. there’s also some fucky supernatural shit afoot. i think it’s perfectly aligned with what we know about shauna—and like, birth hormones—for shauna to be devastated when taissa hands her a dead baby. she didn’t want him, but he’s dead and she almost died, and she feels like not wanting this baby literally killed him. she would have likely had a real abortion back home. this is literally traumatic stress.

i feel like i’m repeating myself, but i keep seeing posts that deride yellowjackets for having shauna express any love for that baby as if the writers are promoting tradcath motherhood, when the show literally shows the psychological ramifications of forced birth. i do wish there was slightly more body horror (side note: if you’re craving a body horror take on pregnancy, i highly recommend the new dead ringers remake) but tl;dr yellowjackets is definitely not writing a story where shauna meeting her baby would have inspired a newfound love of motherhood, stopping her resentment or any other negative emotions. the supernatural elements + the adult shauna scenes work in tandem to create a pretty nuanced depiction of birth, motherhood, and all the complexities therein.

(i’m also hesitant to equate feelings about fiction to feelings about real life situations, but i do think it’s uhhhh. a bit callous? to go “yayyy no more pregnancy arc i hate babies! shauna should be more relieved smh” like we recognize how traumatized these girlies are but won’t extend that to shauna and childbirth? hmm)

[staghunters]

The case for an ND reading of Jackie Taylor, a decently-sized post.

I got a lot of scrambled thoughts on this, and they need a space for coherence. Maybe this is more for my own headcanon-ing, but feel free to take this if you want to. A lot of this comes down to a certain reading of text that I do with a certain kind of lens that may not be there for everyone. And that's fine! This is just silly analysis stuff that I wanted to do.

Am I an "authority figure" on this? Probably not by some standards! I consider myself to be on some spectrum, but only my brother has a diagnosis (tm), so do with that what you will.

This a mix of new thoughts and some copy-pasted from messages i sent on discord once.

SO, where to start. The first proper introduction of Jackie with other people is that gruelling opening sequence, but I think the more interesting is her first scene with Shauna where we get the big chunk of what the history is between these two and on what dynamic they interact with each other.

Jackie's got the whole thing color-coded and planned out. She likes that, but from all the other things later in the episode -- and the season -- it becomes very clear that she likes to have some input that ranges from voicing her opinion to micro-managing in order to feel in control and somewhat safe in her position as (social) captain of the Yellowjackets.

That Shauna is going to Rutgers with Jackie is taken as a given by her. One interpretation is that Jackie thinks that Shauna, obviously, will go with her to Rutgers on the basis of their friendship. However, I would like to propose a lil switch in that maybe Jackie hopes that Shauna will go with her to Rutgers. Getting into Brown isn't nothing, and there's gotta be some pointers at High School that Shauna would be/feel overqualified for Rutgers.

High school is a game of social credits. Jackie knows what to wear, what to say, what to do. Coach points out her "influence", and she demonstrates some skills at conflict-resolution during the kegger. Soccer is a game, one that she's very passionate about, as is her supposedly on-and-off-ish thing with Jeff. The funny thing is that Jackie seems way more interested in calling out how her boyfriend's team has been doing at baseball, rather than stuff that concerns him (or the both of them) personally.

To segway back a bit: Everything is a game with rules. Jackie knows them, but is shown to be really out of her element in the wilderness and trying to bring back normal societal rules into it (this will be a surprise tool that will help us later). Is Shauna going with her to Rutgers a naive wish on the basis of their friendship, or is it also so Jackie can have someone to scout and feel out all the social conventions for her? College means that a new playbook needs to be made, and it saves embarassment if you can base it on someone else.

Jackie assuming that Shauna would go along to Rutgers to be her roommate can very well be an expression of "this is my best friend and my sole, kind, understanding constant in my life, and I need her there with me in this unknown territory." College means starting over from scratch, and if we assume the manual-based functioning to be true, then Shauna's presence there to take cues from could help a lot to smooth out this transition.

On the other hand, this is of course the opportunity to drop some masking that Jackie might've been doing. Shauna being there could then very well work against her

My greatest argument, I think, is that you can see the entirety of Jackie's lil subplot of going after Travis as an example of how such a process backfires tremendously against her.

A little step-by-step:

Jackie is shown to give Shauna multiple chances to come clean about the Jeff Thing. Shauna doesn't, but Jackie still sticks around her.

Jackie proposes the plan to have some fun with Travis to Shauna. Shauna voices her thoughts about it, underlining that it would be a bad thing to do to Natalie.

This notion is repeated throughout the episode. Travis himself brings it up, the high group of hunters brings it up, Nat herself looks not too pleased at Jackie and Travis slow-dancing at doomcoming.

There's an interesting reverse happening once the hunter girls confront Jackie about having had sex with Travis. Everyone is out of their minds, so idk how well we can factor in that almost all of them proceed to go after Travis despite mentioning once again that "he's Natalie's".

Doomcoming is post journal discovery, yet quite some time has passed between that and the episode. Jackie makes some very obvious comments at Shauna to signal that She Knows, and the Travis plan is set up after that. Hooking up with Travis can serve the plainly stated "I'm not gonna die a virgin :/", but over the course of the episode, it also creates this whole new catalogue of reactions from the others. And all of these, in their defence of Natalie, would speak in favor of Jackie if the news would break that Shauna had sex with Jeff.

So at the end of Doomcoming, we can get some sort of list of "rules" that would apply out here in the wilderness appendix for the section on CHEATING

People can call dibs on someone, and those are to be respected

Acting like the "bigger person" by calling everyone out on how little value it has out here is not going to do you any favors

The group will react badly if you crossed a line in their eyes. Taking someone's boyfriend falls under that.

It's how she plays the fight with Shauna! Shauna wants to bring up that most problems were caused by Jackie hooking up with Travis, which Jackie follows with an uno-reverse card she now (thinks) she has in her hands

If I (Jackie) hook up with Nat's boyfriend (Travis), then the group takes Natalie's side. Therefore, if Shauna hooked up with my boyfriend, then they should take my side.

And it goes so bad! Shauna outplays her by making the whole fight not about the cheating, but about their friendship as a whole, which Jackie has been viewing way differently and blinded than Shauna and the others. There's plenty of moments of Jackie "not reading the room" and either waving it off as the others being party-poopers or a lil mishap of her own.

Of course the big difference is that Jackie isn't really awkward in the highschool setting. She won homecoming queen for a reason, has many people looking up to her, and Coach Martinez probably made her captain for similar reasons. I guess what I'm going for with what's provided in Doomcoming is that Jackie lacks that "reading the room" skill (we can see it a number of times with Shauna in the pilot. In particular I'd say the Rutgers discussion, the boob dress, and telling Jeff to drop her off first) but makes up for it a lot by having a sort of manual of how to act in certain situations.

She's not seeing how Shauna might feel about her constant input on things. She's not seeing that others might orchestrate stuff outside of her knowledge. Nobody ever outright goes head-to-head with Jackie until the wilderness, and on good grounds there. If rescue isn't coming, we go to the body of water that's just been discovered. But the crash site is (ironically) safe. Whatever might happen if we leave it behind for something we're not even sure of?

It also doesn't look like Jackie has any (good) friends outside of Shauna. Might come with their years long codependence that nobody even wants to put themselves into, but also that with a captain position/being a generally popular high school student, she might not seem as approachable on a personal level. Jackie does make herself very open, and she's shown to be able to set up brief but very attentive conversations (Allie, Mari, Misty) but beyond that on a superficial level, there's not someone who she turns to when she suspects Shauna of something. Shauna's very obvious other friend is of course Taissa, but there's nobody out in the wilderness like that for Jackie.

and for some random bits:

Verbal stuff! The Beaches quote is peak, because who else would drop a line like that in such a moment. If Jackie's lying about not quoting it, then it does really speak of it being a hyper-focus movie (and we can also discuss why Shauna can recognize the movie from just the one line). But I think the possibility of it just being one of those phrases that you whip out like a vine quote, even if you've forgotten the origins of it

Presentation and maybe textures! Her luggage lacking skirts/dresses is… yeah. She wears a dress at the party in the woods and going to school with Shauna in the pilot episode, but besides the doomcoming dress, that's it. The article that says that while the others are already sharing clothes, Jackie sticks to her own wardrobe OR borrows some thing from Shauna (shoutout to the Doomcoming flannel!)

[f4ggydog]

do you see urself in any of the yellowjackets? if so who is it?? for me its shauna shipman (yikes)

this is probably the biggest red flag ever but I see myself mostly in misty. I am EXTREMELY misty quigley coded and I fear it's very frightening but I have to be honest with myself

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

In-character Q&A - AdVenture (1)

Just a crosspost from patreon!

-

Beth

How did you all meet?

Shauna and I went to the same high school. I met Grant through Shauna; he stopped to greet her while we were hanging out. Prii and I met at a game store, as we both enjoy tabletop RPGs. They also introduced me to [MC], though since we subsequently became coworkers, we actually would have met independently of them.

We all met together at the same time at a birthday party for Shauna.

Who's your favorite of the group?

(for everyone, assume that this flips to MC under any circumstances where they're dating/best friends)

It depends. I'm fond of Shauna, but she can be frustrating. Prii's very charming, but could stand to get their head out of the clouds every so often

Did you have hopes to make it big as urban explorers or was this just a hobby?

The notion of making it big with any kind of video-making seemed farfetched, particularly with five of us involved. Honestly, I was surprised at how popular Urban AdVenture became.

Did you ever think you would have run into anything parahuman-related?

No. Our hometown has a small, low-profile parahuman population, and we had only travelled further afield for videos on a handful of occasions. Encountering any parahumans seemed rather unlikely.

Prii

What was your first job/video in AdVenture? (Prii's fielding this, cause the answer is the same for everyone)

There's this old mall in our hometown that everyone just calls 'the mall'. There's this whole thing with a new development and they were super insistent that the new place is the mall so everyone started insisting on calling the old one—I'm getting off topic.

Basically, we went to the old mall. It's actually somewhere Grant and I snuck into a couple times before and part of how I got the urbex bug in the first place. If you're from the same place as us I don't think it's really that exciting but it made a decent video to an outsider. Though nowadays I see a lot of holes in it.

How did you all meet?

So my older brother is friends with Grant's older sister, and we crossed paths when we were like, preteens, and started hanging out too. I know Beth from our local game shop. Grant knew Shauna from... somewhere, and I met her through him. As for [MC] and I, uh. Well.

We were kind of, both in the ER? They'd been knocked off their bike and I'd done... something dumb, and we wound up sitting next to each other for a few hours in the waiting room.

Who's your favorite of the group? 

Everyone there is a special kind of person to me. Uh, not to sound bigheaded or anything, but I make friends pretty easily, and there's still pretty much nobody else I'd pick to do the AdVenture stuff with. I guess if you twisted my arm for an answer, Grant has tenure, so I'll give it to him.

Did you have hopes to make it big as urban explorers or was this just a hobby? 

I kept it to myself, but I always felt like we could maybe take off. I was starting to get pretty excited at watching the numbers go up, and a couple of our more recent videos were getting noticeably more attention. So yeah, I was hoping.

Did you ever think you would have run into anything parahuman-related?

I figured we might if we kept doing the videos long enough. Always a chance of running into something strange; we'd already had our share of weird stuff. Always thought it'd just be like... signs of past presence or something, though.

Shauna

How did you all meet?

I went to high school with Beth! Couldn't really tell you how we became friends, it just happened at some point. She's coworkers with [MC] and I went by the coffee shop a lot, so I was gonna meet them sooner or later. I met Prii through Grant at a small get together.

And Grant, I met playing pickup.

giggles 

I kinda smoked him.

Who's your favorite of the group?

Aw, do I gotta pick? That's hard.

Um, I do really appreciate Beth's friendship. She can be harsh but I know she doesn't mean it in a bad way. Prii's really nice and encouraging and just generally comfy to be around. 

Did you have hopes to make it big as urban explorers or was this just a hobby? 

I never really think most things I do are gonna make it big...

Um, urban exploration is fun, but I never feel like the face of it or anything.

Did you ever think you would have run into anything parahuman-related?

Yes, absolutely.

Creepy abandoned places are perfect for evil lairs and hideouts.

Grant

How did you all meet?

Oh, I've known Prii since we were kids. They were in the car one time when their parents came to pick up their brother from my place and I guess their brother mentioned my sister had a sibling their age, and they wanted to see who I was, and the rest is history. Beth happened to just like, be around one time when I said hi to Shauna, and Shauna I knew from a couple basketball games. Oh, and Beth introduced me to [MC].

I think as a distraction, 'cause I was annoying her.

grin

Who's your favorite of the group?

Not Beth!

laughs

I guess, Prii? Like I said, we go back. [MC] takes a joke pretty well and doesn't put up with my shit, so points to them.

Did you have hopes to make it big as urban explorers or was this just a hobby?

It was fun, but I didn't really have any aspirations for it. Like... c'mon, be realistic.

Did you ever think you would have run into anything parahuman-related?

Pff, no way.