jackietwinklor

[jackietwinklor]

heh starting gonna start on a fwb jackieshauna series on ao3

[jackietwinklor]

getting more exhibitionist jackieshauna thoughts.... imagining being their friend who they want badly. them inviting u round but when u get there theyre just straight up fucking. ik jackie would love putting on a show for u just shamelessly rutting against shauna's strap and staring at u. - 🥸

jackieshauna who are always so affectionate when you're around, always touching each other and full on making out during hangouts.... you're the third wheel always. sometimes it feels like they're just rubbing your singleness in your face. thinking about awkwardly making eye contact with shauna while jackie's kissing her, all of you sitting outside at some cafe, and she just stares you down while slipping her hand under jackie's skirt @__@ or jackieshauna who give you a lil show while ur in the backseat of shauna's car, shoving their tongues down each other's throats during red lights.

they both love how it's clear you're turned on from their display of affection after watching you shift in your seat and rub your thighs together. they also love how you're basically a cuck during hangouts. just watching them kiss and touch while ur on ur phone and definitely not recording...definitely not pretending to be typing to someone but secretly watching out of your peripheral.

being so confused when the door is unlocked after minutes of knocking, also confused why they aren't answering after shauna invited you over....but you walk in! you usually hang out in their room, and you assume they must be in there because their door is propped open, and you can hear tiny whispers from inside. what you expected was seeing them talk on the bed, maybe even kissing like usual. what you didn't expect as you pushed the door open was seeing them butt naked, jackie riding shauna's strap while shauna's fingers were in her mouth.

jackie moans the second you and she make eye contact, her eyes dark and wild, yours open wide in shock. her bounces seem to get more desperate, and shauna's thrusts seem to get faster as she hears an audible choking noise come from your throat. her breath shudders, her fingers pressing deeper into jackie's mouth while she stares at you. "uh, so-sorry." you fumble over words while watching jackie's tits bounce, trying to shake your head and stop looking. "sit." shauna says, voice high and whiny. the hand that's choking jackie with her fingers removes itself from her mouth, and she pats the area next to her. yes, sir. you find yourself in a trance as you walk to the bed, eyes looking everywhere as they continue to fuck each other. you feel all floaty and fuzzy as you awkwardly shuffle onto the bed and sit. jackie's uncontrollable whimpers make your ears redden and your gut pool with pleasure, and you can't help but find her beautiful with her drool smeared all over her chin. it makes you nervous, her enthusiastic eye contact, but you can't pull yourself away. not when she's looking at you like she wants to eat you up.

thinking about shauna fucking jackie doggystyle and having you sit against the headboard while jackie grips your shoulders :3 not being allowed to touch her at first, being told to keep your arms by your sides while jackie kisses your neck and moans into your ear. jackie lovesss putting on a show, shauna's more of the watcher tbh. loves watching jackie exaggerate for you but also fuck herself dumb on her strap because she needs you to love it.

they start fucking in front of you during hangouts at their place, sometimes telling you to join in or just inviting you to watch <3 not like u have a choice tbh, but... thinking about coming over and just seeing shauna cockwarm jackie because "she was being a brat" and watching as shauna tries to subtly grind against jackie's strap while her eyes are on u the whole time.

[jackietwinklor]

wicked and weary [Masterlist]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x f!reader x Shauna Shipman summary: You and your girlfriends were survivors. At least, that's how the story goes. You weren't eager to correct them. Two years after the murders in Wiskayok, the three of you have built a life together at college, free from all the horrors of the past. The masks are gone. Knives left behind. Now, they're saying he's back. Ghostface. But who's holding the knife? note: sequel series to the ghost you dressed up as. don't even try to attempt this without reading that lmaoo. warnings for graphic violence (obviously) and smut (who cheered?)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

[jackietwinklor]

Summary: In which, after a fight between your brother and his girlfriend, you end up stuck with Jackie Taylor. Drunk and saying things you were never supposed to hear again.

Warnings: Sexual content, alcohol consumption, cheating(?), Jeff.

The party had started out fine. Better than fine, honestly. Your parents were out for the weekend, and Jeff had promised to keep it “low-key.” Which, in Jeff-speak, apparently meant inviting half the damn school and letting the music shake the walls like it was a frat house.

You lingered near the stairs, sipping from your cup, watching people filter in and out of the kitchen and living room. You weren't one to host these kinds of things, but you liked control. And right now, you were watching it slip.

Especially when you saw Jackie Taylor push open the front door in that perfect black dress that made her look both angelic and untouchable, the way she always did, and storm into the house with that I’m-about-to-make-this-everyone’s-problem look in her eyes.

Your stomach dropped before you even heard Jeff’s voice.

“Seriously, Jackie?” Jeff called after her, stumbling in behind her. “You show up now?”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But neither of them were exactly being subtle.

Jackie spun on her heel just as she reached the middle of the living room, right in front of everyone.

“I told you I needed time!” she snapped, voice louder than the music. “But you couldn’t even give me one weekend, could you?”

Jeff scoffed. “I wanted to talk—”

“You wanted to control,” she interrupted. “Just admit it! You hate when you’re not the one calling the shots.”

You froze. A few people were watching now. Others pretended not to, but the drama was thick in the air.

Jeff stepped closer, teeth clenched. “You’re drunk already.”

Jackie smiled wide, that venomous, glittering kind of smile. “And you’re predictable. Go find another girl to be your sex toy, because it won’t be me.” The last part was barely a whisper. But you caught every word.

You saw the flare in your brother’s jaw before he turned and stormed out, slamming the front door behind him.

Jackie stood there a second longer. Swaying slightly, before heading into the kitchen, like nothing had happened.

You set your drink down, feeling the need to find Natalie and maybe share a cigarette or two. This or something else.

Natalie was leaning against the backyard fence like she belonged there. Boots kicked out, cigarette dangling from her fingers, sharp profile outlined by the porch light glow. She looked like trouble and comfort all at once.

You stepped out, the screen door creaking behind you. The bass from inside pulsed through the walls, but out here, it felt quieter. Easier to breathe.

“She’s here,” you said.

Natalie didn’t look at you. “Jackie?”

You nodded.

“She’s already causing drama?”

You exhaled slowly. “Started the moment she walked in.”

Natalie held out the cigarette wordlessly, and you took it. The smoke hit the back of your throat, hot and acrid. Comforting, in its own way.

“She got into it with Jeff,” you said. “In front of everyone. Told him off. Loud.”

Natalie snorted. “Good for her.”

You paused, shifting your weight. “I’m kinda… worried, though.”

That made Natalie glance at you.

“She was wasted when she showed up. Said some weird shit. I think she’s spiraling.” You passed the cigarette back. “And I know I shouldn’t care, but…”

“She’s still Jackie,” Nat finished. “You can’t help it.”

You sighed. “Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Natalie said, casually, “You’ve always had a soft spot for messy girls.”

You laughed under your breath. “Guess that’s why I keep hanging out with you.”

Natalie grinned, blew a ribbon of smoke to the side. “Flattery’ll get you nowhere, babe.”

You looked over at her, the messy braid, chipped black polish, the eyeliner smudged just so, like she woke up cool.

“Nat,” you said, voice quieter now. “You know you’re kind of amazing, right?”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like something you only say when you’re about to ask me to help hide a body.”

You smirked, but your voice was honest. “No, I mean it. You’re, like… ridiculously hot and calm and unbothered and you always make shit feel less terrible. I love you.”

Natalie blinked at you.

You looked away quickly. “Sorry. I’m drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk,” she said, but she was smiling. “You’re just having emotions. Ew.”

You laughed once, then ran a hand through your hair. “It’s just… everything feels off tonight.”

Natalie tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Before you could answer, the back door opened again.

Shauna stepped out. Alone.

She didn’t see you two right away, just adjusted her skirt, ran a hand through her hair, pulled her hand mirror out with a practiced little glance behind her, like she was making sure no one was watching.

But you were.

And then you saw Jeff.

He followed a few seconds later, not out the same door, but around the side of the house. Trying to look casual, like he’d just wandered out for air.

He didn’t see Shauna. He didn’t need to.

Your chest went tight.

Natalie turned to say something, probably a joke, but stopped when she saw your face.

“Y/N?”

You didn’t answer.

You just watched Shauna disappear down the steps, her lipstick slightly smudged. Jeff, meanwhile, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, looking every bit like a man trying not to crack.

Natalie followed your gaze. Then she saw it too.

“…Oh,” she said quietly.

You swallowed hard. “They’ve been sneaking around.”

Natalie didn’t ask how you knew.

She just looked at you and said, “You gonna tell Jackie?”

You stared down at the cigarette in your hand. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “probably not tonight.”

Natalie didn’t say anything else. She just stood beside you

You had a bad feeling.

Walking back inside, you found Jackie pinned in a corner of the kitchen, half-draped over the counter with some guy leaning far too close, brushing hair from her face like he owned her.

Jackie looked... out of it. Eyes unfocused. Too loose in the limbs.

You crossed the kitchen like a storm.

“Yeah, no.” you snapped, shoving the guy's shoulder. “Get out.”

“She didn’t say anything,” he slurred.

“She doesn’t need to.” Your voice turned razor-sharp. “I’ll break your fingers one by one, if I need to.”

The guy scoffed but backed off, muttering “psycho bitch” under his breath as he slithered away.

Jackie blinked slowly, tried to sit up straight, and failed. “Well, if it isn’t Saint Y/N,” she said with a laugh, voice thick with tequila and pride wounds. “Saving the damsel. How heroic.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You said coldly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have sex with Michael fucking Sinclair.”

Jackie tilted her head, eyes glassy. “Like you know shit about me.” She spit back, venomously.

You scoffed.

Jackie slid off the counter and stumbled forward. “Jeff was right. You’re so obsessed with being the better one—”

“Shut up. Say his name again,” You warned, stepping closer, “and I swear to God, I’ll drag you upstairs and murder you myself. We will be all over the news. Tempting, huh?”

Jackie blinked slowly. “Jeff. Jeff. Jeff.”

You sighed, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her toward the stairs. Then, threw her over your shoulder despite her protests. This attracted some looks and whispers, but you didn’t care at this point.

Jackie was swearing under her breath the whole way up. “You can’t just force people— god, you’re such a control freak— this is so typical of you—”

You opened your bedroom door, shoved her inside, and slammed it shut. The click of the lock echoed like a warning shot.

Jackie stumbled to the bed and collapsed, half-on, half-off, one strap slipping down her shoulder.

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the heat crawling up your spine.

“You shouldn’t have came,” you said flatly.

Jackie looked up at her. “Why? So you and Jeff could talk shit about me in peace?”

“We don’t talk about you,” You lied.

“Right.” Jackie pushed herself up, dark eyes locking on yours. “You just hate me.”

You smirked. “Always have. You don’t make it that hard.”

Jackie stood, wobbly but determined, walking toward her until there was barely a breath of space between you.

“Well guess what?” Jackie whispered, breath warm and spiked with vodka. “I hate you more.”

Your pulse spiked.

Jackie was still standing, a little crooked, breathing like she'd just run a sprint instead of climbed one flight of stairs. Her arms were crossed like she was trying to hold herself together. Or maybe like she was still ready to fight.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to roll your eyes so hard you gave yourself a migraine.

Jackie glared at you from the center of the room. “So what now? You lock me up here while you and Jeff gossip about what a disaster I am?”

You sighed dramatically, heading to your desk to grab the water bottle you kept there.

“Yeah,” You said dryly, twisting the cap off, “we were just waiting for you to leave so I could finally start my ‘Ten Reasons I Hate Miss Taylor’ list.”

You tossed the bottle onto the bed next to Jackie, who didn’t even flinch. Just stood there, arms still folded, jaw clenched.

You arched a brow. “Number one: you’re stubborn as hell. Number two: you refuse to shut up even when you’re clearly wasted.”

Jackie’s lip twitched.

“Three,” you added, “you always assume everyone’s watching you. Newsflash, princess — sometimes we’ve got better things to do.”

Jackie stared at you a second longer before she finally wobbled back and let herself drop onto the mattress with a heavy sigh.

You crossed your arms. “For Christ’s sake. Just lay down for a bit, alright? Scream into a pillow. Sleep it off. Fight Jeff later.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” Jackie mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Well, you’re not sleeping in the hallway. Or on the roof. So either deal with it or get cozy with the tub. Or, walk your wasted ass home.”

Jackie didn’t respond. Just curled one arm under her head and let the other dangle off the bed, her fingers brushing the hardwood floor.

You stood there for a moment longer, unsure whether to stay or bolt.

“Why’d you help me?” Jackie muttered suddenly, voice softer than before. “Downstairs. With that guy.”

You paused, your back still to the bed. “Because he is a creep. And I’m not about to let some jackass paw at a drunk girl at my house.”

“But I’m not just some girl,” Jackie said. “I’m me.”

You turned to look at her. Jackie's eyes were half-lidded now, her expression unreadable.

“Exactly,” you said. “And as much as I’d love to watch you fall into a fountain at prom, I’m not letting someone treat you like that.”

Jackie was quiet for a beat.

Then: “You’re not as a bitch as you pretend to be.”

Y/N snorted. “And you’re not as dumb as Jeff thinks.”

That earned her a smirk. Barely-there, fleeting, before Jackie’s eyes fluttered shut again.

You lingered near the door, fingers grazing the lock, heart still hammering in your chest.

This wasn’t supposed to be the night she and Jackie Taylor ended up alone together.

And it definitely wasn’t supposed to be the night she felt something twist in her chest when Jackie whispered, “You’re still an asshole.”

You rolled her eyes. “Go to sleep, Taylor.”

“Make me.” She said, but went quiet right after.

Jackie had gone quiet for a while, curled sideways on your bed, shoes kicked off but dress still rumpled, mascara streaked slightly beneath one eye like war paint. You thought maybe she’d passed out. She almost hoped she had.

But then Jackie spoke, voice hoarse and brittle.

“You know what’s funny?” she said without opening her eyes. “He only ever wants me when I’m slipping away.”

You turned from where you’d been sitting on the edge of the desk. “Jeff?”

Jackie laughed bitterly. “Who else? Every time we break up, he shows up like it’s a challenge. Like I’m some project he forgot to finish.”

She blinked up at the ceiling, swallowing hard. “He doesn’t care what I think. Doesn’t ask. Just assumes I’ll come running the second he flashes that ‘Sadecki smirk.’ He doesn’t even like me. He just wants to fuck me. Most of our breaks are because of this.”

You stiffened but said nothing.

Jackie scoffed and scrubbed at her face. “He thinks just because I’m pretty and put together I don’t notice. Like I’m too stupid to get it.”

There was a pause.

Then Jackie whispered, almost to herself, “I hate that I let him.”

You moved before you even realized it. You knelt by the bed, heart beating a little too fast, and reached up, hesitated, then gently brushed a tear from under Jackie’s eye with her thumb.

Jackie flinched a little, surprised. Her eyes opened, meeting yours.

“Out of character for you,” she said, voice wobbling between sarcasm and vulnerability. “You being gentle.”

You almost smiled. “I’m not a monster, you know?”

Jackie sniffled, eyes tracking your movements — first your hand, then your face, then… your mouth.

The silence stretched.

Jackie stared at your lips like they were saying something she couldn’t quite hear. Then her eyes flicked back up to yours, pupils blown wide.

“I remember when we used to play house,” she said suddenly, almost dreamily.

You blinked. “What?”

Jackie didn’t move. Just whispered: “I was the mom. You were the dad. Because Jeff wouldn’t play, he said it was a girls’ game.”

Your breath caught.

Jackie’s voice lowered, almost a pant now, shaky and strange. “You’d come home from work. I’d be folding napkins or cooking invisible pasta. And then… we’d give a peck on the lips.”

You didn’t move, but you couldn’t look away.

Jackie inched forward. Barely noticeable. Just enough.

“You always complained,” Jackie murmured, eyes half-lidded. “Said it was gross. But you still did it. Every time.”

Your throat tightened. The air between you felt like static. Cheeks reddened in an instant.

“And then, years later…” Jackie continued, gaze falling back to her mouth. “Those stupid family dinners. Your mom and my mom, always pretending we all got along. You and me, stuck in your room. On the floor. On the bed. Sometimes we had to share the same pillow.”

Her breath hitched. “Sometimes we stayed over.”

You whispered, “Jackie—”

“I don’t even remember when it started,” Jackie cut in. Her voice had gone small. Honest. “I just remember we said it was practice. Just in case. Because boys would expect us to know.”

She leaned closer.

“And we had to know… right?”

Your breath shuddered in your chest. Jackie’s face was barely a few inches away now. You could feel the heat of her. The scent of tequila and vanilla perfume and the smallest trace of salt on her cheeks.

Jackie tilted her head, so close their noses nearly brushed.

“You always said it didn’t mean anything,” she whispered. “That it didn’t count if we weren’t really feeling it.”

Another breath. Another half-inch.

“But it always felt like something.”

You didn’t know whether to move forward or pull away.

Your voice came out low. Cautious. “Are you drunk, Jackie?”

Jackie’s lips curled slightly. “Of course I’m drunk.”

Then softer, “But I’m not lying.”

You didn’t move. Jackie was too close now. Too much perfume, too much warmth, too much truth in her eyes.

“You’re very drunk,” You said softly. A warning. Maybe even a plea.

Jackie smiled, not smug this time, but sad. Like she already knew.

“I am,” she admitted, flopping back against the pillows again with a soft thud, hair spilling out like a halo. Her eyes slid to the ceiling, voice drifting with it. “God, I’m so drunk.”

You exhaled slowly, preparing to stand, to pull away before you lost control, but then Jackie spoke again.

“Do you remember when Jeff and I broke up the first time?”

You froze.

Jackie wasn’t looking at you now. Just staring up, eyes wet and glossy, like she was watching some long-forgotten movie play across the ceiling.

“I was devastated,” she said. “Thought it was the end of the world. Shauna had that stupid English test she was cramming for, so I didn’t want to bother her. So I came to you instead.”

You swallowed hard.

“I was so sad,” Jackie continued, voice soft and lilting. “And so drunk. God, I barely even knocked. Just walked into your room and sat on your bed like I belonged there.”

You said nothing. You remembered. Every frame of it. Too clearly.

“It was stupid,” Jackie whispered. “But I remember. The kiss. Not just one. The whole thing. I remember the makeout. The way your hand pulled my hair. The hickey I left on your neck.”

You turned away, eyes flicking toward the door. You were sure she didn’t remember any of that.

Jackie chuckled, low and fond. “You tried so hard to cover it up. I used to watch you putting concealer over it in the locker room after practice. That little compact mirror you always carried.”

Her voice dropped again. “I saw you tell Nat.”

You tensed. “I—“ You started, but she continued, cutting you off.

“But I always pretended I didn’t,” Jackie murmured. “Because it was easier.”

The room was too still now. Just the thud of bass from downstairs and the sound of Jackie’s confessions filling every inch of your skin like a memory come back to haunt you.

“That night too,” Jackie added, lifting her hands and making little quotation marks in the air. “ ‘It’s not cheating or sex if there’s no penetration.’ Can you believe I actually said that?”

She burst into laughter — drunken, broken laughter that turned into hiccups halfway through.

Your stomach twisted. “Jackie…”

Jackie wiped at her mouth and snorted. “God, I was such a mess. But it felt good, didn’t it? For a second. It felt like relief. Like somebody actually saw me.”

You finally looked at her. Jackie’s eyes were red. Her smile was cracking.

“That’s the problem with you,” Jackie whispered. “You always saw too much. And you never said anything.”

You stayed frozen. Your hands were clenched on your knees, jaw tight.

You wanted to tell Jackie to shut up.

You wanted to tell her don’t do this now, when you're vulnerable and sloppy and saying all the things we swore we’d never touch again.

But all that came out was: “You’re saying this because you’re drunk. You won’t even remember it tomorrow.”

Jackie met her gaze. Really met it this time.

“I will,” she said. Quiet. Clear. Certain.

“Will you?” You stood abruptly, as if rising might protect you from the heat building in your chest. From the way Jackie was looking at you. Not drunk and blurry, but sharp and focused and heartbreakingly familiar.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” you muttered, reaching for the doorknob, trying to end it before it went somewhere irreversible.

But Jackie stood too fast.

And stumbled.

Your reflexes kicked in, you reached out instinctively, grabbing Jackie’s arms to steady her. But instead of falling, Jackie took you down with her.

You crashed onto the bed together, Jackie landing on her back. You landed half on top of her, half over the mattress, bracing with your hands.

“Shit—“ You started, propping yourself up, your palms sinking into the mattress on either side of Jackie’s shoulders. “Jackie, I didn’t mean to—“

Then Jackie’s hand gripped the front of your shirt, and before you could finish your sentence, she kissed you.

It stole the rest of the air from your lungs, a sudden, fierce and familiar pressure. Jackie’s mouth against yours with no preamble, no hesitation. The kiss that demanded a response, that refused to be ignored. You froze for a split second. Just long enough to feel the weight of it. Jackie’s fingers digging into the front of your shirt, the soft press of her thigh between your knees, the taste of tequila and lip gloss and every buried memory resurfacing all at once.

Jackie tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand curled behind your neck, pulling you closer, like she’d been starving for this and couldn’t take another second of pretending otherwise.

You didn’t mean to, didn’t plan to, but a low sound escaped your throat as your lips parted under Jackie’s, returning the kiss without second thought.

It was everything and nothing like the ones before.

This time it wasn’t practice.

It wasn’t just in case.

You didn't pull away.

You should have. Every rational cell in your body screamed that. But the second Jackie moaned against your lips, fingers tugging at your shirt like she needed it off immediately, hot and open and wanting, that voice died.

Instead, you kissed her back hard.

You shifted, one hand sliding from the mattress to Jackie's thigh, steadying her, gripping tightly as Jackie arched beneath you.

It was dizzying.

Years of hostility. Every hallway glare. Every pointed insult during family dinners. It was all right here, tangled in teeth, breath and desperate hands.

Jackie's fingers slid up the back of your neck, into your hair, pulling you closer — and when your teeth clashed, Jackie just smiled against your mouth, cocky and gorgeous.

You pulled back just enough to look down at her.

Her lips were swollen. Her pupils blown. Her breath shallow.

And she was smirking. "Still gonna get me aspirin?"

You didn't answer. You growled.

Then you kissed her again, deeper this time, messier. Jackie made a soft, wrecked sound that sent goosebumps rushing through your skin.

Your hands roamed now, fingers slipping under the hem of Jackie's dress, grazing bare skin. Jackie's thighs parted almost automatically, like muscle memory, like instinct.

Jackie grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, dragging you down until your bodies were flush, chests heaving, hips pressing together like you'd done this before. Like you'd never stopped.

And maybe you hadn't.

Maybe all those years of pretending had just been waiting for this one, stupid night. This one stupid kiss. This one stupid bed.

Jackie's breath hitched as you kissed down her jaw, over the pulse in her throat. Slow, dragging, purposeful. Her fingers dug into your back like claws.

"Fuck," Jackie whispered, head tipping back. "You always knew what you were doing."

You dragged your teeth lightly at ner neck, just beneath ner ear.

"So did you."

Jackie's breath caught. Her hands slipped under your shirt, nails scraping lightly over your stomach. "I used to dream about this."

You pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes.

"Yeah?" Your voice was low, rough, dangerous.

"And how did those dreams end?"

Jackie smirked again, then lifted her hips just enough to grind against yours. Your breath stuttered, holding back a groan.

"Why don't you remind me," Jackie whispered, "just in case I forgot."

Jackie's smirk faded into something darker.

Hungrier.

She shifted beneath you, sliding one leg up, hooking it around your hip to pull you closer. So close there wasn't space for denial anymore.

And you finally gave in. Utterly.

You crushed your mouth to Jackie's again, kissing her with years of repressed want. Years of pretending the past hadn't meant anything. Your hands roamed greedily now, one sliding up Jackie's thigh and under the hem of her dress, the other tangling in her hair, angling her head just right as your mouths moved in frantic rhythm.

Jackie groaned into the kiss, hips lifting, back arching. You dragged your palm higher until your fingers found soft, heated skin. She wasn't wearing much underneath, just thin lace that left little to the imagination.

"Fuck," You whispered against her lips. "You planned this."

Jackie panted. "Maybe I hoped for it."

Your hand pressed between Jackie's thighs, fingers teasing the edge of her underwear, feeling the heat radiating from her core. Jackie bit her lower lip, her hips rocking forward.

"You're soaked," You murmured. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Jackie's eyes fluttered closed. “Shut up.” You smirked.

You kissed her again. Slower now, deeper, while your fingers slid beneath the lace, slipping against slick heat. Jackie's whole body tensed, then melted into you with a soft, needy whimper.

You moved your fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, dragging them through her wetness, watching Jackie unravel with every pass. Jackie clutched at your shoulders, her breathing ragged, mouth falling open in a half-moan, half-curse.

"Fuck-don't stop," she whispered.

"I'm not going to." You growled.

You kissed down Jackie's throat, biting lightly at the spot beneath her jaw while your fingers circled her clit, slow and controlled. Jackie was a mess beneath you now. Hair wild, dress pushed up around her hips, thighs trembling.

You slowly dipped two fingers inside, and Jackie's whole body arched. Her nails dug into your back.

"God— Y/N—" she moaned, biting down on her own lip.

You curled your fingers just right, feeling Jackie tighten around you, hips bucking. Your thumb circled gently, purposefully, and Jackie lost all sense of rhythm. Just gasps and soft cries and broken fragments of your name.

"You gonna come for me?" You whispered against her ear, taking the opportunity to bite her earlobe. "Like you used to?"

Jackie didn't answer, couldn’t.

Her body locked, shuddered, then broke around your fingers with a long, breathy moan. You watched her fall apart. Eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving, lips parted in stunned silence as the orgasm rolled through her.

You didn't stop moving your fingers until Jackie finally whimpered, twitching beneath you.

When you pulled out, Jackie was limp and boneless on the bed, blinking slowly like she was waking up from a dream.

But her eyes found yours. Still dark. Still wanting.

"You," Jackie said, voice wrecked and hoarse, "are not leaving me like this."

You grinned, taking your fingers to your mouth and sucking them clean. "I wasn't planning on it."

Jackie sat up suddenly, grabbed the hem of your shirt, and yanked it off over your head. Then she flipped you, straddling your hips, her dress still hitched high, thighs still glistening.

"Your turn," Jackie said, smirking, breath ghosting over your lips.

And when she kissed you again, it was slower. Hotter.

Jackie's thighs straddled you with practiced ease like she'd done it in dreams a thousand times. Like her body already knew exactly where to go.

Her fingers dragged down your bare stomach, nails just sharp enough to raise goosebumps and leave red marks. You hissed through your teeth, hands gripping Jackie's hips, fingers digging into soft skin where her dress had bunched up.

"You've been holding out on me," Jackie whispered, leaning down until her lips grazed your jaw, leaving wet kisses. "All these years..."

She kissed a line from your jaw to your collarbone, slow and hot and purposeful. Lips closing on the soft flesh and sucking, leaving bruises.

Your breath hitched. "You started it."

Jackie smirked against your skin. "And I’m gonna finish it.”

She shifted her hips down, grinding into you in a slow, devastating roll. Both of you gasped. Jackie caught your bottom lip between her teeth and tugged, then released it with a breathy laugh.

"You always act so in control," she whispered. "But I remember how you sounded when you begged."

Your hands slid up her back, nails dragging lightly. “Make me.”

Jackie sat up just enough to push your bra out of the way, exposing flushed skin and hardening peaks. Her hands weren't shy. They cupped, fingers flicking, kneading, learning you all over again like she had the right.

You moaned softly, arching into her touch. "Fuck, Jackie..."

Jackie bent down and took one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently, her tongue flicking. Her hand rolled over the other, squeezing in rhythm, until you were writhing under her, trying not to fall apart too fast. Jackie pulled back just enough to look down at you, lips glossy and eyes hooded. "I missed this."

You opened your mouth to respond, but it dissolved into a gasp when Jackie slid down your body, kissing your ribs, the curve of your waist, the dip below your navel. She hooked her fingers into your waistband and pulled your underwear down slowly, a wet patch visible on cotton, dragging them past your thighs and tossing them aside without a glance.

Jackie knelt between your legs, lips parted, eyes drinking you in.

"You're already dripping," she whispered, almost in awe.

Your fingers tightened in the sheets. "Then don't waste time."

Jackie leaned in and kissed your inner thigh. Teasing, reverent. Then another kiss, higher this time. And another, until her breath was ghosting over your soaked heat. Instinctively, your fingers found her soft hair, pulling on it, begging for her touch.

When her tongue finally slid through your folds, you let out a breathless moan. “Oh god.“

Jackie licked you slowly at first. Long, smooth strokes, savoring the taste, before settling into a rhythm that had your hips lifting off the bed. She flicked her tongue over your clit, sucked gently, then dove lower, lapping up everything like she couldn't get enough.

Your fingers found her hair, anchoring her. "Fuck, Jackie— don't stop.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

She moaned against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. One of her hands slid up, lacing your fingers together above your head. Intimate, grounding, while the other slipped between her own legs, rubbing herself as she devoured you like a secret she’d been dying to remember.

Your thighs began to shake. "God— Jackie! I'm gonna—"

You came hard, crying out her name, body tensing and then shattering beneath her. Jackie didn't stop, not until she felt every last wave ripple through her, not until you were whimpering, raw and ruined.

Jackie finally pulled back, lips wet, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing. She crawled back up, pressing soft kisses to your chest, your neck, the corner of your mouth.

You pulled her in, wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her there like you didn’t know what to say.

Jackie let her head rest against your shoulder, both of you breathing hard in the silence that followed. Then, Jackie whispered, almost laughing against her skin:

"Okay... maybe l'm still a little drunk."

You huffed a breathless laugh, burying your face in Jackie's hair. "We're so fucked."

Jackie nodded, snuggling in closer. "Yeah. But at least I came."

[jackietwinklor]

would anyone gaf if i did an in depth post abt jackie's relationship with sex, masturbation and how jeff affected that for her? just trynna gauge interest

[jackietwinklor]

jackie taylor masterlist

jackie tag 💭

getting jackie to eat (fluff, gn!reader)

pathetic jackie (18+)

[jackietwinklor]

snippet...

The pack sprawls out, darkness falling, fire dancing. Shauna paws at the ground, swearing she can see blood oozing out. She imagines her nails digging into sun-kissed skin, laying her claim, tearing Jackie from his arms. "Where is everyone?" Did Jackie go through with it this time, or would she slink back again, head bowed? Is she still in her dress? Has it been pulled up, just enough to show off her cunt, is she wet for him or will they have to use spit? Shauna can't imagine Jackie wet, she doesn't know what it would look like, so she probably isn't. Laura Lee's dress billows in the wind, Lottie kneels before a stump, she swears her face is breaking through the wood, not that anyone else cares to see her. Instead of mourning, they're throwing a party. The second the minute of silence ended, they'd been right back to partying, Jackie had been right back to dancing up to Flex. It was utterly shameless and shameful. "Nat and Coach are friends?" Is he inside Jackie right now? "Misty won't like that." Is Jackie tight around him? "But she’s gone. And what about Jackie? …Or Travis?" Shauna's jaw sets. Is Jackie wet for him? Maybe she fucking is. "They left." She probably is, fucking bitch. "Together? That’s so – Jackie." Could he make Jackie cum? "It’s so Jackie…" Is she close? No way, right? "So much for rose petals," Shauna scoffs, mouth dry and tongue heavy. She thinks she feels Tai's dark, expansive eyes boring into her, curiously. "But what are they doing?" Javi asks. Silence rings through the trees. In that moment, everyone but him is thinking of the same thing. Beautiful Jackie Taylor lying on her back, legs open, sweat dripping down her flesh, pink pussy in bloom, cock sullying it. Fake porn star moans thrum through their ears, so typical of Jackie. They've all seen her body in the locker rooms, a sculpted work of art, all glossy magazine perfection, yet snapping in half after a few too many drills. Except, of course, they've never seen what's between those firm, tan legs. Her underwear is never sheer enough to offer even an outline. Always so fucking pure, scrunching her nose up at their sex talk. Lottie remembers Laura Lee having the same reaction, the two virgins sharing a look. Now what, Jackie's taking Flex's dick? It's all wrong. Leaning heavily against the stump, Lottie pulls herself up to her full, looming height. "We should find them," she commands. Shauna frowns, dirt digging into her skin, as she tilts her head upwards. Their eyes meet. "Why?" Something passes between them, heady and powerful. "She belongs to us," Lottie proclaims. The words settle over the group, mouths twitch into dangerous smiles, Shauna lets her canines show. Jackie Taylor, captain, upcoming prom queen, IT girl is theirs.

[jackietwinklor]

jackie with a praise kink.... literally just melts into a puddle when you call her a good girl....

its an accident the first time it happens. you're so worried about how little she's eating (either in the wilderness or just in general bc baby girl does not have a good relationship with food) that you start hand feeding her and just breathe out a relieved "good" when you see her starting to eat. but then... you notice jackie squirming in place and panting like a damn dog and how well it's working.

she's so pathetic <3

[jackietwinklor]

sorry i havent been posting on here!! im the worlds slowest writer and ive been super busy with life stuff and i got really in my head about what to put on here lol. but anyway gonna start being more active on this account now that ive decided to use this as my ao3 wip zone

[jackietwinklor]

george's ao3 masterlist

current works

honey bunny - mistyjack misery fic. heed the warnings

upcoming

jackieshauna fwb oneshot series

doomcoming jackie - if the girls went after jackie instead of travis

french class - jackie & lottie in french class (oneshot)

top ideas

book club - no crash au where they're all alive & milfs

jackie walking in on taivan and being very normal abt it

jackie's wet dreams abt the team

[jackietwinklor]

wait what about Shauna already being in a relationship with tfem reader, Jackie is secretly jealous… of the both of them though. Especially when Jackie tries to relate with Shauna by talking about how lame and uneventful sleeping with your partner is like the rare times it does happen clearly expecting Shauna to chime in to agree, but Shauna gives her pitiful look and says “I can’t imagine how tough that must be”. Prompting Jackie to get defensive and ask when’s the last time Shauna’s gotten laid, “this morning? I got 3” “3 minutes doesn’t really-“ “not 3 minutes Jackie” cue Jackie ranting about not quite believing that’s what it’s normally like for her. Shauna finding the whole thing hilarious challenges Jackie “well you can always see what it’s like for yourself but don’t say I didn’t warn you”. Later that day the three of them are hanging out watching a movie, reader doesn’t get warned about it beforehand so when Shauna starts making out with her with Jackie around she tries to be respectful of their visitor and cuts it short. The Shauna says something like “you know Jackie spent the whole afternoon talking shit about you? Practically called me liar when I told her you’re actually fun to have sex with, you wouldn’t mind giving her the Shauna special to prove my point would you?” end of the night conclusion: Shauna was NOT lying and she wants a turn in the morning.

── KISS IT OFF ME ・ jackieshauna / reader

warnings: nsfw content, mdni. tfem!reader. established relationship (shauna/reader). threesome. oral (jackie/r!receiving). p in v sex (jackie/reader).

you’re sunk into the pillows, feet tucked under the blanket, hazy from the few drinks the three of you have shared. the movie drones on somewhere behind it all, forgotten; its flicker casting brief shadows over the walls of jackie’s room, over the scattered popcorn and the empty glasses crowding the bedside table.

you’ve stopped pretending to care about it somewhere between the second & third act, when shauna‘s hand settled on your thigh, squeezing the flesh every now and then. she’s been continuously tracing shapes there ever since, her index finger inching higher and higher up towards your crotch.

for a while, you thought you were overreacting; that the heat of her touch was all in your head and the tightness in your pants a you-problem.

that was until shauna leaned in to kiss you, pecking her way up the side of your neck. she started by nuzzling your throat, eyes still set on the screen, yet before long, she was sucking marks up your skin, humming against your neck until her mouth finally found yours.

what started out as a casual kiss deepens as her fingers slip under the hem of your shirt. her tongue sweeps yours, and the tv becomes background noise for good, nothing compared to the taste of her spit in your mouth. shauna drifts higher up, humming so low that the sound shoots straight down to your center.

you are about to spread your legs wider, inviting her in, when you remember jackie. jackie, who’s been sitting inches away on the bed this entire time.

“shauna,” you lean away from her, startled. “we- jackie’s right here…” you hiss, peeking over at her apologetically. jackie sits unmoving, her eyes locked on the two of you in disbelief.

shauna doesn’t even look her way. “she knows,” she says, shrugging conversationally.

“knows what?”

“about you. about this.” she brushes her thumb over your lip, still considering kissing you again, as though you’re not being watched. “she doesn’t believe me,” shauna murmurs. “how good you are. and what it’s like…really being wanted. she’s curious.”

jackie stiffens, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “i didn’t say i was curious!”

“no,” shauna says calmly. “you didn’t. you just stared at her all through dinner today and asked me three times if it was actually possible to cum that many times in one morning.”

she swallows, visibly flustered. “i didn’t mean- i thought you were exaggerating! it sounded fake.”

shauna arches her brow. “still does?”

when you look back at jackie, arms still crossed, jaw set, you see it: whatever shauna just exposed, it’s not new. jackie’s been carrying it for a while; you simply hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t known to look. now that it’s surfaced, though, there’s no missing it.

you don’t yet know just how long this has been going on. jackie never let herself want anything that might mess with the version of her she worked so hard to hold together. not until shauna stopped pretending, too.

it used to be easier when they both had the same complaint: boys are useless, sex is a chore. shauna used to laugh when jackie joked about how bad jeff was in bed (flat five-minute missionary, not an ounce of creativity) always assuming they were in the same boat.

then, a few weeks ago, she made the joke again, perched on shauna’s counter, fully expecting a laugh. instead, shauna just tilted her head and gave her a look. pitying.

“i can’t imagine how tough that must be,” she’d said.

jackie could still feel how it hit her, too late, that she’d missed the moment everything changed, when shauna had quietly stepped out of their old little world without saying a word, leaving jackie as the only one still pretending nothing had.

now, she’s looking more uncertain than you’ve ever seen her. “…can i just…watch?” she stammers,

even if you wanted to say no, you know you couldn’t.

jackie has always been beautiful. ridiculously so. you never acted on it, never even let yourself dwell on it too long. you were with shauna, and you were happy; that was more than enough. still, from the very beginning, something in you shifted every time jackie entered a room, or when shauna brought her along to yet another party, another sleepover, another dinner.

being with shauna meant being near jackie, too. she was always there; shauna’s shadow, her constant. they came as a set, indistinguishable at times, as if one couldn’t exist without the other. so perhaps falling a little bit in love with jackie was inevitable. a side effect of loving shauna for so long. shauna’s mother used to say you couldn’t ever tell where one of them ended and the other began. maybe she wasn’t so wrong.

shauna saw it before you ever said a word.

you told her once, drunk, tripping over your own guilt as you admitted how hot jackie was, how you’d noticed things you weren’t supposed to. you braced for jealousy and accusations, yet shauna just listened. smiled, even. in your haze, you started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way.

now jackie is sitting there, watching with her fingers curled against her ribs.

shauna kisses you again. her palm slides between your thighs, and jackie inhales sharply. she’s trying to act composed, but you can feel her squirm on the mattress, moving closer unconsciously.

shauna’s groan into your mouth snaps you back to reality. she’s rubbing over the bulge in your underwear, making a show of how little friction it takes for your hips to lift off the bed.

finally, she moves under your waistband.

your body jerks when shauna wraps her fingers around your cock, dragging through the first bead of precum and slicking it down your shaft. that alone pulls the first real moan from your throat.

“do you want her to touch you too?” she murmurs.

you glance at jackie, whose eyes are fixed on the outline of shauna’s fist, pumping under the fabric. shauna loosens her grip to ease your panties down, still working you with her free hand. “come here.”

the other girl obliges fast, scrambling to kneel at the foot of the bed. her gaze drops, first to your face, then lower, where shauna’s stroking your cock, and she gulps audibly.

“she won’t bite,” shauna says, not bothering to hide her grin. jackie shoots her a look, before turning back to you. “can i…?”

“please.”

her fingers brush along your length, more curiosity than confidence, and when she finally wraps them around you, there’s a slight tremble in her grip. where shauna is confident, jackie is careful, feeling you up inch by inch.

“oh my god,” she whispers with a single glide from base to tip. jackie repeats the motion, firmer, and you moan quietly as her thumb grazes under your head on the upstroke. looking pleased, shauna shifts next to you. “you were saying something earlier, weren’t you?” she teases. “about how sex is just…fine?”

“shut up.”

jackie adjusts her hold, testing different paces. you groan when she adds a twist at the tip, and reach out to guide her hand with yours. she follows your lead until shauna joins in too, her palm settling over jackie’s, refining each touch.

the pressure difference, the contrast of their touches, has you pulsing between them.

it’s then, with both of their palms around you, that it hits you: this is new for jackie too. not the act itself, but doing it like this. doing it while shauna watches. doing it with shauna.

jackie sits back on her knees, holding the base of your cock, and leans in to run her tongue across the head, tasting. 

“fuck,” you gasp, clutching shauna’s thigh.

jackie, unfazed by this, lets her tongue drag along the underside before closing her mouth around you. she sucks gently, the sudden heat of her mouth making you moan hoarsely. shauna watches, her eyes glued to jackie, who hums as she takes more past her lips. her spit slicks your length, tongue curling around it on the way back up. you know if she keeps this up, you won’t last.

thankfully and much to your dismay shauna knows that too. she grabs a fistful of jackie’s hair, coaxing her off you with a reluctant pop. “okay,” she murmurs, “that’s enough.”

“why?” jackie pouts. “i wasn’t done!”

shauna’s eyes soften. “because,” she says. “i want this to last, and if you keep going, she’s going to lose it in, like, thirty seconds.”

jackie blushes. she doesn’t look away, but her body tenses, recognizing what’s coming. shauna leans in slowly, offering her the choice to stop this before it starts.

she doesn’t, though, only lifts her chin proudly, and waits.

when their lips meet, jackie grips shauna’s shirt, pulling her closer, and shauna lets out a startled sound, which she chases with her mouth. you can’t look away from the two of them kissing, still tasting you, while heat coils tighter in your gut.

by the time shauna pulls back, jackie looks dazed, her brows drawn together in irritation from being interrupted again. shauna’s hand is quick to make up for it, skimming down her spine in one long caress. when her fingers glide beneath jackie’s skirt and settle warm on bare skin, the tension in jackie’s expression begins to falter.

“is this okay?” she murmurs.

jackie nods, eyes closed, as shauna’s fingers find her clit, pulling a stunned sound from her throat. “you feel that?” she murmurs into her ear. “you’re already dripping.” then, turning to you: “let her ride you.”

jackie’s breath stutters. “are you sure she can-”

shauna presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “you want to know what it feels like, don’t you? feel her for yourself?”

another nod, more desperate.

her skirt bunches as she climbs into your lap, thighs sliding over yours. shauna maneuvers her, pushing the fabric up to reveal the mess between her legs.

she isn’t wearing underwear.

it doesn’t fully register, with too much is happening too fast, but the image plants itself somewhere deep: jackie taylor doesn’t wear underwear when you and shauna are over for movie nights. and she’s soaked. wetness glistens on her thighs, smearing across your skin as she settles over you.

“breathe…” shauna instructs. “we’re still good?”

even though jackie takes longer to answer, too tense with anticipation, she manages a ragged: “yeah, we’re okay.”

you reach for yourself to guide the tip through her, slick folds parting with an obscene sound that has jackie digging her fingers into shauna’s shoulder. “shit,” she whispers. “you’re- god, you’re right there-”

“it’s okay,” shauna assures. “you don’t have to do anything. she won’t move. just sit, okay?”

jackie nods, biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as she lowers herself onto you.

the stretch is deep, her body tight around you, gripping as she sinks down gradually. first just the head, then more, inch by inch. you feel the slick resistance of her trying to accommodate you, and it takes everything in you not to thrust up into her all at once.

“you’re doing so good,” shauna praises. “you’re okay.”

jackie lets out a broken moan and finally settles fully in your lap. “i can feel…hm, fuck- s’deep.”

her forehead rests against your shoulder, both of you vibrating with restraint. “i know,” shauna whispers from behind, giving jackie time to accommodate the stretch.

her muscles flex as she lifts up a few inches and sinks back down tentatively. you groan, unable to help yourself, the sensation of her cunt dragging along every nerve ending knocking the air straight from your lungs. you can’t tear your eyes away from where your bodies are joined, the wet mess of her pussy pulling at you on every roll of her hips.

jackie is still holding back, though, so shauna leans in, kissing her neck like she’s done with yours earlier. “do you want to make her feel good?” she asks you, fingers moving between jackie’s legs. “she’s close already. you feel that?”

you whine in agreement, and shauna responds by pressing her fingertips more firmly to jackie’s clit, the added pressure making her hips jolt.

“oh my god- what the fuck-” the surprise etched across her face makes you wonder if anyone has ever touched her quite like this, if she ever knew it could feel this good.

“god, shauna-” she chokes, clenching around you hard.

“yeah?” shauna teases. “right there, huh?”

jackie whimpers, hips rolling forward as she chases both shauna’s touch and the length of your cock. you bury your face between her breasts, groaning as her body convulses around you. when you finally thrust, harder than you meant to, she jerks in your lap. instead of pulling away, she moans, bracing herself and rocking back down.

her arms loop around your shoulders as she starts to move, her chest pressed flush to yours. jackie’s mouth finds the side of your neck, where she bites down hard enough to make your hips stutter into her.

“jesus, jackie!” you gasp.

the air in her room is thick: hot with sex & heavy with the sounds jackie makes as her thighs slap on your own. she’s chasing it now, her pace quickening.

shauna’s hand keeps working between jackie’s legs, fingers circling her clit. she leans in, guiding your face toward hers, and you meet her in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. jackie’s walls clench down when shauna simultaneously changes the pressure, the shift of angle enough to make her cry out.

“i- fuck, i think i’m gonna-” she gasps against your throat. you start to pull back, packing, but jackie stops you. “don’t!” she snaps. “don’t pull out. i’m on the pill, i swear, just- please. please, let me feel it.”

helplessly, your hips rock forward.

“go ahead,” shauna whispers. “come for us.”

it hits fast after that. you moan into her mouth as your orgasm tears through you, every muscle spasming. your back arches into jackie as you spill inside her, and she chokes on a shaking sound, grinding through her own climax. she comes with you, riding it out until there’s nothing left to give.

the three of you collapse in a tangled, trembling mess. jackie slumps forward, chest heaving, and shauna brushes sweat-damp hair from jackie’s neck. “you’re okay,” she murmurs to the two of you, stroking your cheek.

jackie barely lifts her head. “…that’s what it’s always like?”

“when you’re with someone who actually cares? yeah.”

you shiver, involuntarily moving your hips lightly, which draws another whimper from jackie. shauna smirks. “you think she’s done?”

[jackietwinklor]

nah im so jackie/jackieshauna brained rn.... i swore i would do more underappreciated characters and i still want to but... THEM. they drive me crazy actually. have so many thoughts too many to put into words. lemme TRY to do one at a time.

[jackietwinklor]

love thissss <3 more trans readerrr!! you're inspiring me now.....

Hi can you do more Jackie trans masc comfort? It was my first time reading about someone like me in any sort of writing and I thought it was amazing thank you

ofc! im glad you saw yourself in my writing ^.^ that means a lot! i hardly see any butch readers on here, let alone transmasc, so i try to incoperate them into my work a lot!

these are just scattered thoughts i have of jackie with a transmasc bf, not really in any order.

· · ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ · ·

i think she'd jump at the opportunity to do your tshot. if you're perfectly fine with doing it yourself, she'd just watch you as you do it, smiling up at you so proudly after you're done. but even then, i think she'd try and ask if she could do it just once. she thinks it'd be romantic and sensual in a way. being able to do it for you would mean a lot to her i think :( mainly because of how much you trust her to do it. and you know she buys you all that shit you need for it. if ur running low on needles, she knows even if you don't, and orders like a 100 pack on amazon. always picking up some more alcohol pads for your shots :( always getting you cool bandaids bc she thinks you'd like 'em.

she'd be so supportive when you have bad dysphoria days it's almost suffocating 😭 almost. i definitely feel like she overdoes the compliments sometimes but she doesn't mean it like that yk?! she just wants to be there for you and help you feel better :( so what if she's called you her best boy 20 times within the past 5 minutes? she means well!! but gahh. she sits there and listens. which is more than you could ever ask for. sometimes you just need to rant about how shitty you feel without her saying anything, and she knows that. her hugs make all the noise drown out even just for a bit. she loves when she can get you to smile when she cracks a little joke too.

since she's got that #money, thinking of jackie who orders a bunch of binders for you so you can test out the best one!! maybe one's too tight but you like the material better than the others, and she researches along with you to find something similar. the best feeling for her is when you find the one, one that makes you feel good and causes you to smile while thanking her over and over again with a bunch of kisses. or maybe if your chest is too big to feel comfortable in any sort of binders/tape, i think she'd try and maybe make one for you by sewing smth together. but, ultimately, if you just can't find anything, she feels horrible and hates how uncomfortable you are all the time :( she's right there kissing your tears and holding your body as you cry it out, telling you that she's gonna do everything in her power to get you top surgery as soon as possible.

feel like you could tell her that your coworker was being a little weird to you after you came out or something and the next day you work with him, he comes up to you all scared and nervous and apologizes 😭 (jackie paid him a visit during his shift and threatened him)

jackie who keeps records of your transition!! you could be months/years on T before you started dating her, but she likes to take pictures of you each month and likes to tell you how much you changed as a way to hype you up. maybe bc you dont rly notice the changes like everyone else does, and she points out how sharp your jaw has become or how handsomeee you look ^^

jackie x athletic bf!! jackie who's there supporting you during games!! jackie who's there to comfort you when you feel bad about how your school keeps you on the women's team :( she keeps an ear out for any negative talk from ur teammates when she's allowed to sit on the benches with you....ohhh when she hears them mention your name she snaps her head so fast it almost breaks. n they were just saying how good you are 😭 but she loves supporting you soo much. kissing you before games as a good luck charm, shouting the loudest, always showing up with heart balloons 😭 jackie going to the gym with you and making sure all the lousy men in there know you're hers. jackie who makes you feel better about showing your top surgery scars in public :(

[jackietwinklor]

sooo i see your love of butch r <33 and i'd like to make a request... reader whose been scared to express themself but wants to start exploring their masc side more... reader who is friends with jackie and really nervous to tell her bc jackie can kinda get wrapped up in popularity. but to reader's surprise jackie is really excited a lil TOO excited to take you shopping dress you up cutting your hair and is really possessive abt how JACKIE is the one making you look good. jackie getting more flirty the more masc r leans getting so giddy when ppl think you're her boyfriend. she loves that ppl think you're a guy bc it makes it acceptable to want you. - 🥸

Jackie w/ masc r HC's

note: i just know it's taking her forever to do any solid reflection on this btw.

You tell Jackie that you want to start dressing more masculine, and Jackie hears, “I want you to customize me like I'm one of your Sims.” Over the moon, really. I imagine her asking a bunch of good-natured but very insensitive questions. She means well, but she avoids stuff like that like the plague. Doesn't like to think about it. Wonder why. 

Tries way too hard. “You look so pretty—uh, handsome? Handsome.”

Buys you cologne with her favorite scent. Buys an extra to keep around “for you.” She keeps accidentally spraying it on her pillow. Whoops. 

Getting your hair cut short, and Jackie can't keep her hands out of it. Always running her fingers through it and talking about how soft it is. Styling it with her fingers no matter how much you protest. She always sits herself down in your lap and leans in way too close when she does. If her lips brush against your skin a few times, that's no one's business. 

Jackie takes it as an invitation to mess your hair up whenever you're staying the night. Oh no, now she has to fix it. 

Makes you a bunch of Pinterest boards with different styles and keeps sending them to you, asking which one you like better. There is a correct answer. 

The concept of Jackie absolutely giddy as she buys you sleeveless shirts. Insists on coming into the changing room with you because, “How will you know if it looks good?” As someone who's, like, “totally into men and stuff,” she would know better. Truly an expert in her field. It seems to involve a lot of touching your arms and adjusting how it sits on your waist. 

Jackie gets irrationally jealous whenever girls flirt with you. She never really liked it before, but she feels it even stronger now. Which doesn't make sense to her. If anything, she should be proud that the style she helped cultivate is working so well for you. Regardless, she's hanging off of you for the rest of the night talking about how nice you look. 

You wear something particularly masc one day, and Jackie starts throwing out “heartthrob” and “Casanova”-type” compliments. Slapping your arm and giggling and everything. 

Stares at you all the time. You get insecure about it once, wondering if she thinks you're weird now. You finally bring it up, and she practically falls over herself trying to reassure you. Still can't stop herself from sneaking glances. It's fine to look, right? She just thinks you're hot because you look like a guy now. She can't help that her mind associates the two. Yeah. That's it. 

Jackie realizes you don't correct people in public when they call you sir, and it gets her thinking. She full-on blushes the first time it happens and just starts wondering if people think you're her boyfriend or whatever. Hanging off your arm like she always has looks different now, doesn't it? Meanwhile, you're just trying to avoid getting yelled at. 

But once she starts thinking about it, she can't stop. In signature Jackie Taylor style, she gets obsessed with the idea. 

You go over to Jackie's house one day, and her dad's actually home from work for once and comes storming up the stairs to yell at Jackie for having the door open while she has a boy over. He takes a second look at you and is like, “Oh,” and avoids you every time you come over after. Jackie buries her face into her pillow for a good ten minutes after. She's so embarrassed, but also really pleased? Jackie doesn't know what to make of that. 

Jackie's mother keeps telling her off for hanging out with you, but Jackie's too invested to listen to her mother on this, like she usually does. She can't bring herself to go far enough to actually argue with her, though. Keeps randomly buying you things every time it happens because she feels bad about not actually defending you even though you aren't there. 

Jackie makes you hold all her bags when she drags you to the mall and insists that she's just helping you look the part. Keeps holding your hand as you walk around so that you can practice. It helps that no one thinks anything of it. All the benefits of getting to hold a girl's hand without people actually thinking Jackie's gay.

Jackie steals some of the pieces she buys you and wears them. It's a woman's right to steal her boyfriend's clothes. You're neither a boy nor her boyfriend, but it makes sense in her head. She picks all your clothes out, so it's practically the same thing. Just like having a boyfriend in theory. 

[jackietwinklor]

thinking abt jackie's first time having sapphic sex. like as you go into heavy petting territory she warns you "don't feel bad if you can't make me cum, no one else has ever made me before, i think there's like something wrong with me..." of course, you have a suspicion that was more about jeff than her. even then, you're still surprised at just how quickly she cums like she's so wet just from making out with you that it takes barely any effort. jackie is so fucking shocked at how good it feels and that she came.

[jackietwinklor]

blame it on the alcohol

NSFW! MINORS DNI!

sorority girl jackie x reader

college is about experimenting, right? maybe jackie gets a little carried away when she's drunk, but she's not gay, she's literally in a sorority. (or: jackie's descent into accidentally becoming a sapphic's nightmare situationship.)

tws: drinking and comphet

tags: comphet, jackieshauna, pillow princess jackie, toxic jackie, oral j!receiving, angst, unhappy ending

wordcount: ~2k

jackie is going to make the most of college, she swears, she doesn't need stupid shauna, she's going to have the time of her life without her, actually. she's over it now, over the summer, she'd wallowed and cried and screamed until she expelled it (until her mother looked about five seconds from having her committed, which jackie thinks is ironic coming from a bitch who clearly could use rehab). everything's great now. it was actually really freeing to rush without an annoying bitch in her ear complaining every step of the process; her new friends were way cooler, she goes to awesome parties basically every night and her new boyfriend totally has a trust fund. all of this, by the way, a month into college. so yeah, things are going better than ever and she doesn't think about shauna at all ever. why would she think about some pretentious loser who probably spends her time brooding in dive bars?

things are going so great in fact, that jackie decides she deserves to cut loose and get a little wild. she gleefully throws back shots with the girls and plays beer pong on her boyfriend's team until she kind of forgets his name. tearing up the dance floor, stumbling around, giggling, she acts a little more drunk than she really is. jackie likes doing that, she likes that nothing can really be held against her in this state. in high school, jackie had liked pressing her lips to shauna's and blaming it on the alcohol. frantically, she shakes off the thought, heat prickling at her skin. it's got to be the thermostat, frat dudes run freakishly warm and being packed in like a sardine certainly isn't helping. "i need a breather," she slurs to the pack of girls. the music's too loud for them to really hear, so blonde heads nod obliviously. none of them make a move to follow her, as she pushes through the crowd. not like... fuck, fuck, she really needs to stop thinking like this.

stumbling into the kitchen, jackie stares blearily, wondering if water or more booze would set her straight. maybe nothing will and the thought terrifies her. a hand rises to rub at her sweaty face (ew). "are you good?" a voice asks. it makes her jump, flushing slightly, feeling caught. swallowing, jackie turns to the sound, taking in the figure leaning against the counter. you don't look like the usual crowd here, a little rougher around the edges, more real, maybe. perhaps, if jackie is being honest, you remind her of... you look like a bit of a loser and she likes that. jackie doesn't really answer, verbally or straight-forwardly, moving like she's making for the drinks behind you, before 'accidentally' tumbling into your side. "shit, maybe you should slow down a bit, huh?" you say concerned, wrapping an arm around jackie's shoulder so she doesn't fall. she hums distantly, stepping closer, raising a hand to kneed at your shoulder experimentally, gaze flickering to the door.

this is when you get the sense that maybe, she's exaggerating a little. there's no doubt she's been drinking, you're so close, you can smell it on her, but there's a sharpness in her gaze that betrays her. "how much have you had?" you ask, innocent enough, but with a suspicious undercurrent. jackie leans heavily into you, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck, a glimmer of a smirk, that quickly melts into a hysterical giggle. "don't you have anything else you wanna ask me?" she retorts lowly, wriggling her eyebrows. it should look really dorky, it kind of does, but fuck, this girl is literally the hottest girl you've ever seen. anything she does automatically looks hot. it's a dangerous game, she's got sorority written all over her, the kind of girl that comes from country clubs. but, that little short dress and those big hazel eyes staring up at you... it does something to you. you can't help but wrack your mind for something that will keep her attention. "do you want me?"

jackie's breath hitches. well, shit... her brain short circuits, letting herself retreat into the haze, where none of this mattered. the only way she could ever have the guts to respond. "if you play your cards right... maybe, just for tonight," she murmurs, manicured nails digging in, just a touch. a shudder goes down your spine, a rush filling you. "oh?" you ask, coyly. there's a beat of silence, jackie waits for you to say something more, before rolling her eyes. "oh?" she mocks. there's a little scoff, then before you can process it, jackie's nails are digging in, harder now, at the meat of your shoulder, pulling you close.

lips meet, lipgloss smearing across your face, as jackie hungrily, messily pushes her tongue in, like she's fucking your mouth, teeth clashing wildly. you're sure she would say it's the alcohol, but behind the bravado, there's a desperate neediness to her. she'll never say it for real, but you can feel how much she wants you. especially, when her body is pressing yours against the counter, fisting your shirt. panting, jackie pulls away, keeping you pinned in place, forehead resting against yours. "how close is your dorm?" she asks, hips jumping. wow, she's not fucking around. "uh, like, ten minutes away," you reply. she nods, resolutely. jackie grips your bicep, dragging you out the back door.

dazed, you lead the way. at some point jackie clambers onto your back, hiding her head in your neck, nibbling down. "you're going to make me drop you," you complain. "i won't let you touch me if you do," she snaps back. immediately, you grip her sun-kissed thighs tighter, not daring to risk it. a mean little laugh vibrates against your skin.

---

you fumble with the door, finally getting the wretched thing open, tumbling in. carefully, you place jackie down on the bed. she doesn't waste a second, grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. she's practically devouring you, mouth hot and eager. messy, despite appearances. falling backwards, she lies back, tugging you insistently on top, boldly pinching your ass. panting, you pull back, hazy eyes taking jackie in. her honey hair splays across your pillow, floral dress riding up, perfect lips puffy from kissing you, chest rising and falling rapidly.

hazel eyes stare deeply into yours. a little too deep to be casual. "are you just gonna sit there or what?" she huffs, a little whiny around the edges. tilting your head, your lips quirk up, teasingly running your fingertips up her thighs. they look more muscular up close, like maybe she runs or something. "what exactly do you want me to do?" you goad.

jackie's breath goes short, blushing, the weight of the moment catching up to her. there's a strange giddiness she's never felt being in bed with someone else, not for jeff or her current boyfriend (whats his name again?). already, she feels hotter and she realizes with some anxious excitement wetter than she ever has with those boys. there had never been this same banter, or lead-up or really anything. it was just, like, a quick fumble to shut her boyfriend up. it must be the alcohol, she tells herself, jackie would have to start pre-gaming next time her boyfriend invited her to his dorm alone.

certainly, neither of them had asked what she wanted, direct and honest (if a little teasing) like that. it made jackie's persona falter a little, growing shy, everything feeling more real. you notice, gently pressing a quick kiss to her crown. her mouth parts in shock, staring with stars in her eyes, heart full. "you okay? we can stop if you want," you whisper. jackie blinks harder, shock growing. she's never heard that before. "i don't wanna stop," she pouts, shaking her head. it shocks her deeper to find how much she means it. "i just... i've never..." jackie mumbles. heart pounding, nerves mix with excitement, a spike of adrenaline rolling in.

once again, she meets your eyes, gaze growing challenging. "i've never got off. i... i bet you won't be able to either," she continues, breathlessly. "is that right?" you ask idly. the teasing touch against her thighs grows firm, gliding upwards. jackie's breath hitches. "mhm..." holding your own breath, you keep going, gentle but filled with want. her hips twitch, desperately. your fingertips barely brush her underwear, but she already feels wet and jackie grinds, a whine escaping her. chuckling lowly, you palm her, heat sparking low in your gut, "i don't think it'll take much..." jackie is absolutely dripping for you, her underwear is soaked through. her cheeks go red, but she doesn't refute it. no, instead she whines out a soft little "please."

it hits you deep, a hunger taking over. falling to your knees in worship, you shove her dress up, staring at jackie's cute little pastel underwear, utterly ruined with her want. they don't last long, you grip the waistband, practically ripping them off. you feel starving, feral, leaning in to inhale her and fuck, does she smell good. it's not enough, your greedy tongue swiping at her cunt. "oh fuck... you're gonna...?" jackie gasps beneath you. your only answer is to bury deeper, lapping her up. staring up at her, you flick at her clit, delighting in the high pitched sound she lets out.

your fingers dig into her hips, holding her close, focusing in her nub, drinking in her sweet ambrosia. jackie is helpless, body shaking and twisting, back arching, keening high-pitched. "oh my god... oh my god... feels so... so good..." she slurs. you've only just got her mouth on her and she already sounds more wrecked than that drunk girl act. a moan bubble up in you at the thought, the taste and jackie honest to god yelps, frantically grinding. you press in impossibly deeper, nose pressing against her pubic bone, sucking at her clit, sucking up every drop.

"i... i'm... oh my god... oh... sh... shauna..." jackie sighs dreamily, grabbing your shoulder, like it's the only thing keeping her up, shaking like a leaf as she unravels hard and fast. tears drip down her face, sobs ripping from her throat, painful but cathartic.

you freeze a little, pulling away. "uh..." you begin. "get out," jackie interrupts, numbly. "what?" you ask, incredulous. what the fuck? at this, she forces herself to sit up, her body's still shaky, she has to use an arm to support herself, eyes narrowing. it's kind of hard to take her seriously. her underwear are still around her ankles. "get the fuck out! i was just messing around, i was drunk, i'm not gay, i have a fucking boyfriend, okay?" jackie hisses. she sounds panicked, voice wobbling, but it still hits you where it hurts.

scoffing, you stand back up, chest aching. "this is my fucking room! you get out! god, i should've known, you're such a cliche. go back to your boyfriend, yeah? maybe next time he'll actually get you off," you snap back, furiously. where the fuck did she get the audacity? jackie lets out an outraged gasp, but looking around, her face falls realizing you're right and she can't just kick you out of your own room. huffing, she rolls over, stumbling out of your bed, almost tripping over her underwear. flushing, she tugs them back up, using the wall to support her.

jackie turns to glare at you, the whole effect really diminished by her tear streaks and wobbly knees. a traitorous part of you softens, this girl is really going through it, it's pretty pathetic. "fuck you," she huffs weakly, as she walks past, towards the door. is that the best she can come up with? maybe actually getting off for once in her miserable life had shook her up. "i already did," you smile sardonically. her hand hovers over the handle, pausing. when jackie turns back to you, the weak facade of anger has faded, leaving behind only fear. it's visceral. "you can't tell anyone about this," she whispers. "i won't," you sigh. jackie nods, gritting her teeth. her hand still hovers, like she doesn't really want to leave, like she's waiting for you to say something or beg. but why would you?

jackie steps outside, the door slamming shut behind her, cold air hitting her. another round of tears prick her eyes. she doesn't know what's wrong with her, but she knows she's not gay, she can't be, her whole life would come crumbling down. it doesn't matter how good it felt, how bad it feels with him. why would it? shuddering, her eyes sweep her surroundings. reaching into her pocket, she pulls out her nokia, biting her lips, scrolling through her contacts. but then, jackie considers having to explain how she got here and her stomach drops. whatever, it's only ten minutes, she'll survive, she's fine. with one last glance at the door, she begins walking...

[jackietwinklor]

have you considered jackie tastes the best actually bc bc bc?

Which Yellowjacket do you think would taste the best? Me and my friends were talking about it last night and I want your thoughts -🫀

i let this sit and simmer for a while just to think about it... im ready. so to first figure out who would taste best... you must figure out who would taste the worst.

there are many variables that would affect both the texture and flavor of flesh. people, too, can be cattle if you consider the way they can be raised like livestock. we are not too different from the pigs in the pen.

tdlr; misty would taste the best. shauna would taste the worst.

we will start off with what we already know (physical variables);

natalie; chronic nicotine use (lung/respiratory changes), alcohol-induced liver damage, potential opioid/amphetamine residues in tissues (if using hard drugs). history of malnutrition from chaotic upbringing.

lottie; loxapine metabolites in bloodstream, psychedelic compounds (psilocybin/psilocin) from regular shroom use, potential endocrine disruptions from prolonged antipsychotic use.

shauna; postpartum hormonal fluctuations (prolactin/estrogen shifts), elevated cortisol levels from chronic stress, potential uterine tissue changes from pregnancy complications.

travis; testosterone-driven lean muscle composition, stress-induced catecholamine surges from grief.

taissa; altered gut microbiome from geophagy (dirt ingestion), sleep deprivation-induced metabolic changes, stress-related cortisol patterns affecting fat distribution.

van; iron-deficient blood composition post-mauling, scar tissue density from wolf attack injuries, potential chronic pain markers in musculature.

jackie's; malnutrition patterns from disordered eating, stress-induced catabolic muscle breakdown, potential electrolyte imbalances -> melancholic depression.

coach ben; age-related collagen cross-linking in muscle fibers, traumatic amputation-induced metabolic stress, depressive episode-related inflammation markers.

misty; chronic stress markers from obsessive behaviors.

mari; all i know about her is that her diet may or may not consist of slurpees and greasy burgers. we can infer that she may have had a typical '90s teen eating regime.

i do not know enough about: mari, melissa, gen, akilah, robin, javi -> other than the fact he is young.

not to mention, for all of them; prolonged malnutrition, dehydration-induced tissue changes, stress hormone saturation, muscle catabolism from starvation, potential pathogen exposure from unsanitary conditions, shared trauma-induced metabolic disruptions, cannibalized human flesh residues, accumulated toxins from foraging unknown plants.

with this in mind, let's get into how meat is graded. research notes come from this article, and this one (written by temple grandin!)

bad meat is caused by high levels of pH. quick lesson on pH; the lower the pH level, the more acidic, the higher, the less. 0 (acid) is the lowest and 14 (basic) is the highest.

factors such as stress, starvation, and other notable variables depletes muscle glycogen (storage form of glucose used as energy reserve), which results in a higher pH level, darker color, and drier meat.

to note; psychological stressors cause more damage compared to physical stressors.

obviously, the yellowjackets are not cows or pigs or chicken. but most of the structural elements that we hold as mammals, some of which animals do, too.

so all that's left now is to play the grading game. we know why they might taste bad, how it can be graded, but now we must figure out who has been the least physically/mentally afflicted. they'd already be tasting bad without the additions of the elements. keeping that in mind.

for now, we can cross out a few.

natalie. meat would be tough and dry, with a bitter, chemical aftertaste and astringent, smoky hints—like overcooked game soaked in stale alcohol. chronic alcohol/nicotine metabolites saturating tissues, potential drug residues (speculative opioids/amphetamines) altering organ composition. malnutrition from chaotic upbringing exacerbates muscle wasting; hunting activities maintain lean muscle but not fat reserves.

shauna. stringy and sour, with a metallic tang from stress hormones and a faintly rancid undertone. nutrient diversion to fetus during starvation (per research on cattle/pregnant mammals) would deplete her own muscle/fat reserves. late-term pregnancy correlates with elevated postmortem pH (5.8+ in cattle). cortisol-saturated tissues from stillbirth trauma and traumatic guilt, compounding pH elevation.

lottie. bitter, greasy, with an herbal-medicinal aftertaste— while chronic stress degrades texture into fibrous toughness. loxapine metabolites and residual psilocybin/psilocin permeating muscle tissue. antipsychotic-induced lipid abnormalities and potential glucose dysregulation. cortisol-saturated meat from sustained psychotic episodes, creating astringent, gamey notes.

travis. lean and dense with a faint iron bitterness—muscle structure resists tenderness, while grief-stress catecholamines leave a metallic, gamey aftertaste. elevated androgen levels likely increase lean muscle mass density and protein content, potentially enhancing structural integrity. grief-induced catecholamine surges (norepinephrine/dopamine) during pre-slaughter stress could accelerate glycogen depletion, raising ultimate pH and reducing post-mortem acidification. intermittent physical exertion may promote moderate marbling.

jackie. dry, fibrous, with a papery texture and acrid aftertaste—malnutrition’s collagen dominance and stress-induced protein breakdown create a chewy, nutrient-depleted profile. prolonged caloric/protein deficiency likely caused muscle atrophy and reduced intramuscular fat. cortisol-driven protein breakdown accelerated myofibril degradation. potential sodium/potassium disruptions affecting cellular water retention (uneven moisture distribution).

coach ben. tough, sinewy, with a sour, gamey bite—resists tenderness, degraded protein quality, leaving astringent notes. age-related advanced glycation end products (AGEs) increase collagen stiffness, reducing enzymatic breakdown. post-amputation muscle atrophy and adiposity shifts alter fat-to-muscle ratios, affecting marbling and moisture retention. depression-associated cytokines (e.g., IL-6) may accelerate protein degradation.

i am so. damn tired of writing that. but now we're left with our main contenders for the best meat so it was worth it. moving on. as said.

contenders for the best meat.

taissa; lean, mildly gamey with subtle earthy notes. desiccated fibers, sour undertones, and gritty mouthfeel from soil residues. soil-altered gut microbiome introduces potential pathogenic microbes and soil-derived toxins, risking off-flavors and inconsistent tissue composition. slowed metabolism reduces intramuscular fat marbling, creating leaner, tougher meat with impaired proteolysis. cortisol-driven fat redistribution concentrates lipids in visceral deposits, leaving muscle fibers undersupplied and prone to dryness.

van; mild iron deficiency yields a paler, slightly muted flavor compared to uninjured peers, resulting in lean, serviceable meat with faint metallic undertones. reduced hemoglobin/myoglobin content in muscle fibers (paler color, diminished umami-rich heme iron bioavailability). facial scarring (superficial) minimally affects major muscle groups, but potential localized collagen cross-linking at wound sites could create minor texture irregularities. unresolved inflammation from mauling may elevate pro-inflammatory cytokines.

misty; moderately tender with subdued richness—chronic stress depletes glycogen-derived umami, but uncontaminated muscle structure avoids the chemical aftertastes plaguing peers. chronic obsessive behaviors likely elevate cortisol and catecholamines, depleting glycogen reserves (higher pH risk) and accelerating protein catabolism. sustained stress could impair water-holding capacity and promote collagen cross-linking from prolonged muscle tension. absence of substance abuse, pregnancy, or severe trauma preserves baseline tissue integrity better than chemically compromised peer.

now you might be thinking. chiyo you just gave us all this information that doesn't even make sense what are we supposed to do with this you stupid bitch. but i am here to simplification it for you.

in summary.

the winner of the "tastes the best" competition?"

see below.

MISTY QUIGLEY!

misty tastes the best because, despite chronic stress, she has no substance abuse, severe trauma (other than the already given), or pregnancy-related complications that degrade meat quality. her muscle tissue remains largely uncontaminated by drugs or toxins, and she avoids the primary metabolic imbalances seen in others. although stress slightly reduces tenderness and umami through glycogen depletion and protein breakdown, her overall muscle structure and flavor stay more intact and natural compared to the chemically or physically compromised yellowjackets...

the loser of the "tastes the best" competition?

see below.

SHAUNA SHIPMAN.

shauna tastes the worst due to pregnancy-related metabolic strain elevating meat pH (sour, watery texture), compounded by cortisol saturation from stillbirth trauma and cannibalism guilt degrading protein quality. these factors create stringy, metallic-flavored meat with rancid undertones from prolonged stress and unsanitary birth conditions.

hope you enjoyed this super long post. i got a little bit excited. for the record, jackie or coach ben did not taste nearly as good as they made them out to be.