kanencrow

[kanencrow]

── ❆ DAY 12: underneath the mistletoe

— summary: college au in which you find yourself under the mistletoe with a stranger.

— warnings: fluff. strangers to lovers. first kiss. gn!reader.

you step outside onto the chilly patio of the christmas party, hoping for some quiet time away from the large crowds. the muffled sounds of music and laughter still spill through the closed door behind you, but out here, the air is crisp and quiet. it’s not even mid-december yet, but the frat boys inside seem to take every excuse they can get to spend their weekends getting wasted.

the cold bites at your cheeks, and you pull your coat tighter around yourself, your breath curling into soft clouds in the dim light. you’re so caught up in the stillness of it all that you don’t notice the figure standing near the edge of the patio until you nearly bump into her

“shit” you mutter instantly, stepping back. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know anyone else would be here”

she turns, startled at first, but her expression softens almost immediately. “it’s okay”

you’ve never seen her around before, otherwise you’d surely remember: she’s beautiful, you think, even through the slightly tipsy state that you’re in. with striking, dark eyes and gentle features, her brown hair falling down her shoulders loosely.

“didn’t expect anyone to join me” the stranger says. “i just need a break. you look like you needed some air too?” her voice is quiet but kind, as if she’s been waiting for someone to join her without realizing.

you nod, feeling a bit awkward but oddly comforted by her presence. “yeah. the crowd in there is…a lot. just needed to breathe for a second”

“tell me about it. they’re really committed to the whole ‘christmas chaos’ thing, huh?”

you hesitate for a moment before stepping closer, your gaze lingering on her profile. there’s something about the way she’s standing; her shoulders slightly hunched, her fingers fidgeting with the rim of her cup, that makes it obvious her mind is elsewhere.

pulling your coat tighter around your torso, you stop by her side, arms resting on the patio railing.

“wanna talk about it?” you ask over a moment of surprisingly comfortable silence. she looks out into the distance. there’s a streetlight not too far from the house. little snowflakes come drizzling down from the night sky above, caught in the beam of light,

“it’s just been..” the stranger shrugs. “complicated. back home, i mean”

“ah” you nod once, trying not to pry but feeling a spark of curiosity. before you can stop yourself, the question slips out: “home..?” you can’t help it, you want to know more, to make her feel a little less like a stranger standing next to you in the cold.

“new jersey” she says, smiling softly. it seems like she wants to know you too, when she adds: “wiskayok. i’m shauna, by the way. shauna shipman”

“y/n” you introduce yourself quickly. “so, shauna shipman, what’s complicated back home?”

a small, amused smile curls up her -shauna’s- lips.

“home’s…weird, i guess. things there, i mean. i’ve got these friends i’ve known forever, and i love them, but-“ she cuts herself off, shaking her head as if to brush the thought away. “sorry, i don’t mean to dump all that on a stranger”

you shake your head, leaning against the railing beside her, the chill of the metal seeping through your sleeves. “you’re not dumping. i get it! small towns can be…a lot,” you scoff lightly. “everyone’s in everyone else’s business”

shauna dips her head back a little when she laughs.

“exactly. when you’re close with someone for so long, it’s like they think they know everything about you”

you nod, her words hitting closer to home than you’d expected. “yeah. sometimes it feels like the people who are supposed to know you best don’t actually see you at all, right?”

her gaze lingers on yours for a beat, her smile faltering but not disappearing completely. “right,” she sighs, still looking over to where the snow is falling. “sorry, that got kind of heavy,” she adds, her tone lighter now. “that’s what i get for being here” shauna scrunches the bridge of her nose. “not really my scene”

“not your scene?”

“no” she shakes her head. “my roommate practically dragged me here. said i needed to ‘have some fun’ or whatever”

you smile, your curiosity piqued. “so, what’s your scene then?”

she chuckles lightly, shaking her head. “honestly? i’m still trying to figure that out”

“your first year too?”

“yeah” shauna looks relieved to have found someone equally new to this.

“well that what was your scene? you know…in highschool?”

that’s the question that gets her. “soccer” she tells you, immediately. “i was on my school’s soccer varsity team”

“soccer?” you ask, genuinely impressed.

“yeah” shauna nods. “jersey number 6. we won the nationals last year, actually. that’s how i-“ she pauses, considers it, then proceeds. “that’s how i know most of these friends i mentioned, i guess. the yellowjackets”

“that’s-“ now it’s your turn to consider your words. “actually impressive”

“it’s funny,” shauna says, smiling softly. “i wasn’t expecting to meet anyone tonight who’d actually get it. most people here are so…different”

“i’ll take that…as a compliment? i think?” you snicker.

“yeah” shauna nods. “yeah, you do that”

the two of you fall silent again. it’s getting colder, the snow falling in thicker flakes now. getting back home will be fun. you rock back and forth on the spot, trying to warm yourself up as your gaze wanders. that’s when something green and red catches your eye above. you blink, realization dawning.

“uh” you say, unsure why you decide to point it out to her. “is that what i think it is?” you point upwards and shauna’s eyes follow your outstretched finger. her brow furrow as she tilts her head. when she spots the mistletoe hanging right above you both, her lips part in a soft, “oh,”

her eyes flick back to yours, and you can see the faintest hint of pink coloring her cheeks, though she quickly tries to hide it with a quiet laugh. “well, that’s…festive”

you snort, crossing your arms. “that’s one way to put it”

for a moment, neither of you moves. shauna shifts on her feet, her fingers toying with the hem of her sweater. you swear you see her glance at your lips, but it’s so quick you could’ve imagined it.

“i mean,” she starts, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “it’s not like we have to follow the…rules or whatever”

her voice is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of nervous energy, as if she’s testing the waters. you raise an eyebrow, stepping just a little closer.

“if you know what i’m saying…” shauna trails off.

“i mean, it’s tradition, right?” you manage. thank god you’re still a little tipsy, otherwise you would’ve fled the scene immediately. or, at least, you would not have the courage for any of this. “what if we get, like, bad luck? is that a thing? can you get bad luck from ignoring a mistletoe?” now you’re just rambling, and shauna crosses her arms over her chest, grinning at you bemusedly.

the tension is suddenly palpable; warm, even in the winter air that surrounds you.

“look” you tell her. “if you’re not into it, we can just-“

shauna takes the final step forward, cutting you off completely. her chest bumps against yours gently, and suddenly, the rest of your sentence vanishes into the crisp night air.

“you talk too much” she mumbles with a grin. 

and, just like that, the decision is made.

when you lean in to kiss her and shauna meets you halfway, the world seems to pause around you and everything else fades. the muffled sound of music from inside, the chill, the distant chatter of the party. it’s just her.

it starts soft and hesitant, like neither of you wants to rush or break whatever fragile thing this moment is. her lips are warm, a sharp contrast to the frosty air, and there’s a sweetness in the way she moves, as if she’s unsure but still very much willing to take the leap.

shauna’s hand brushes your cheek lightly, her fingertips barely grazing your skin like she’s afraid to press too hard, afraid you might pull away. but you don’t, you can’t. instead, your hands find their way to her waist, settling there through the thick layers of her winter clothes. you hold her there to ground yourself in this unexpected moment.

when shauna deepens the kiss just slightly, it’s as if she’s letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, finally allowing herself to melt into you.

the weight of her hand moves to the back of your neck, her touch growing bolder, more confident.

all tension from earlier seems to melt away as you get familiar with the way her lips move against yours slowly and she tilts her head just so, her mouth fitting more perfectly against yours.

when the kiss does break, eventually, her forehead rests against your own briefly and shauna’s eyes flutter open. her lips quirk into a small, self-conscious smile, and she lets out a nervous laugh.

“well,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushed. “i think the mistletoe did its job”

“i think it did” you tell her, softly brushing another strand of hair from her face.

the mistletoe still dangles above you by the time you two part. shauna’s small laugh fades into a soft sigh, and she takes half a step back, just enough to create space without fully letting go of you, unsure whether or not this moment is over.

“so…you’re not terrible at that,” you tease, trying to break the silence but your voice comes out softer than intended.

shauna smirks. “oh, i’ll take ‘not terrible.’ high praise, considering”

for a second, you both stand there, the distant hum of the party a low white noise neither of you really hears. you wonder if you should say something, offer to get her a drink, ask if she wants to sit down, but shauna speaks first.

“so, uh…” she hesitates. “was this just…a one time thing? are you gonna let me know the next time there’s mistletoe around?”

you tilt your head. “well, i wouldn’t want to leave it up to chance. maybe we should exchange numbers, you know? just to be safe”

“okay. yeah. that sounds…smart. very practical!”

shauna lets out a soft chuckle, nodding as you dig through your jacket pocket. you find a pen, thankfully, and hand it over to her. she takes your arm gently, holding it steady as she scrawls her number on your forearm. she even adds her name above the digits before she hands the pen back to you, her fingers brushing yours briefly.

“what about you, though?” she asks conversationally once you’ve taken it back. “do you come to these frat parties often? or are you just really dedicated to holiday traditions?”

you grin, shaking your head. “it’s not my usual scene. either. but…i’m glad i came tonight”

the words slip out before you can overthink them, and shauna’s lips part slightly, like she hadn’t expected you to put it like that. for a second, she doesn’t respond, but then she nods, her smile growing softer.

“yeah. me too”

[kanencrow]

Cannibal! The Musical [1996] Yellowjackets [ + Reader ] Theater AU

☆ Headcanons, Modern AU by proxy, title is a ref to the troma musical of the same name ☆ something silly and short i wrote for kicks, i have more ideas for this au and i kinda wanna write a full length fic but i have to catch up on some school work first lol

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★ it started as a silly passion project put on by you and your group of friends. none of you expected it to go as well as it did, and as such nobody bothered changing their names in the cast list. it quite literally reads;

Jackie played by Jackie Taylor

Shauna played by Shauna Shipman

so on and so forth

★ when it came to plotting and writing the script, you and the rest of the crew would randomly get bursts of inspiration of what should happen next, meaning it wasn't uncommon to randomly receive messages that read like;

"omg my character should die in the snow so her body doesn't decompose naturally and she can properly haunt the narrative"

"...jackie it's one in the morning..."

★ tech days were great because everyone would be minding their own business, painting the set or working on props when someone will randomly shout "Wow I'm so hungry I could eat my soccer team captain." which will immediately be followed by a chorus of "HEY-"

★ "hey what should we name the soccer team?"

★ *from the distance* "THERES A FUCKING YELLOWJACKET IN THE HALLWAY SOMEONE HELP-"

★ "...yeah that works"

★ although everyone does tech, you're pretty much the unofficial stage manager. you're in charge of all things behind the scenes and making sure the show runs smoothly, and the most acting you do is as a background character when you have to subtly bring in/out a prop.

★ being stage manager does mean you have had to deliver lines in rehearsal when one of the actors was out. half the time you're too focused on making sure the show looks nice rather than properly delivering the line, and as such you've delivered some gems such as;

"it's in all of us you know. even him, even you-"

"'that's enough of you're weird fucking bullshit lottie 😐 haven't you done enough 😑"

★ a few nights before opening you wound up watching the show from the audience just to make sure everything was running the way it was supposed to. everything was going smoothly up until the butcherqueen beatdown. right when shauna is supposed to throw the first punch, she accidentally genuinely hit lottie and an audible smack echoed throughout the auditorium.

★ to give credit where credit is due, lottie somehow completely stayed in character. she sweeps her hair back with one hand, wipes the blood from her nose with the other before continuing like nothing happened. shauna on the other hand fumbles momentarily and nearly breaks, but the duo is able to finish the scene like normal. the curtain is down for all of half a second before shauna is rushing to find you, who carried the only first aid kit, all the while apologizing profusely to lottie.

★ you HAVE gotten stuck on stage during a scene where you were very much not supposed to be there. you were moving a tree on stage to change the scene from being in the cabin to being outside when the lights went up before you were ready. as a result you got trapped behind the tree, quivering as the rest of the cast tried not to laugh at you from wings.

★ in scenes where the girls hallucinate or dream about the antler queen, you are usually the one dressed as her, standing in the background and not doing much else. if you had a nickel for every time you accidentally tripped in the antler queen costume, nearly breaking the headpiece in the process, you'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but is extremely unfortunate that it happened twice with an audience.

★ "are we getting a real baby for the hallucination scene?"

★ "...where the FUCK would we get a real baby??"

★ jackie probably has the most fun messing around, especially when it comes to things concerning her death. shauna will actively be doing a scene grieving jackie's death and you literally have to turn jackie's mic off because she'll be cracking jokes about it in the wings.

"shame we didn't get any good maternity pics before i kicked the bucket."

"JACKIE YOU'RE MIC'ED-"

[kanencrow]

i get so annoyed when people extend a word incorrectly. what do you mean you had a "hugeeeee" burger. dont you mean a huuuuge burger? are you saying "huge-eeeeeeeee" out loud huh??? you start buzzing like a damn mosquito? well i fucking kill those. so watch out

[kanencrow]

pulled an all-nighter and then promptly passed out, i drew this sometime and have no recollection but i think i get what i was going for

[kanencrow]

── ❆ DAY 08: baking christmas cookies with jackieshauna

— summary: a christmas baking session with your girlfriends.

— warnings: fluff. gn!reader. established relationship.

every single time you and your girlfriends decide to cook together, things inevitably go downhill quickly. and yet, when jackie announced over breakfast that one week into december was the perfect time to bake some christmas cookies, you and shauna didn’t even try to resist. you knew better by now; jackie had a way of making even the most mundane plans sound like a good idea, until you were knee-deep in the execution.

naturally, jackie insisted it would be best to do the baking at her house. her kitchen was enormous, with sleek countertops and a ridiculous array of fancy cooking gadgets courtesy of her mom. of course, as you had learned too many times before, the fanciest equipment in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that none of you were exactly experts in the kitchen. in fact, culinary disasters might have been a better way to describe your shared track record.

that’s how you find yourself in jackie’s kitchen on december 8th, attempting to bake your first batch of christmas cookies.

soon enough, the place is a mix of sweet scents and chaos.

jackie stands at the counter, an apron tied neatly around her waist, though it’s more for show than function: predictably, she’s doing the least amount of work out of the three of you. meanwhile, shauna is measuring out the flour with by your side. you, on the other hand, are carefully combining sugar, butter, and eggs into what’s supposed to be a smooth mixture.

“are you sure you’re doing that right?” jackie chimes in from behind.

“do you want to do it yourself?” you shoot back. your voice holds no real bite whatsoever, just the easy banter that comes naturally when you’re around the two of them.

she holds her hands up in mock surrender. “oh no, i wouldn’t want to ruin your masterpiece. i’m just here for moral support!”

“is that what we’re calling it now?” shauna mutters under her breath. you bite back a laugh as jackie makes a dramatic show of pretending not to notice. she straightens up and picks up a spatula. “fine, fine. i’ll help”

she stares at the bowl in front of you, then lightly taps the dough with the spatula, as if that counts as contributing. “there. i think I’ve done my part” jackie says before stepping back and rummaging through one of the drawers.

you glance over your shoulder at her, amused. “oh, really? that was your contribution?”

jackie doesn’t respond immediately, too focused on finding whatever she’s looking for and you share a knowing glance with shauna. then, with a triumphant little hum, she pulls something out and hides it behind her back. “and now,” she announces, stepping back over to you, “for the secret ingredient!”

she retrieves her hand, revealing the cinnamon that she quickly dumps into your mixture.

“jackie!” you laugh, trying to grab her wrist to stop her from dumping the whole container in. “i think that’s enough!”

“you say that now” she teases, pressing a kiss against your cheek from behind. “but more cinnamon makes it taste better!”

shauna rolls her eyes good-naturedly from the other side of the kitchen island. “in the end you’re gonna be the one who won’t eat it because it tastes too much like cinnamon!” she points out.

“shauna,” jackie retorts, “when have i ever-“

“last year,” shauna interrupts dryly as she comes walking around to join you and pour her flour into the mix. “the cinnamon cookies? ring any bells?”

ignoring shauna’s comment, jackie continues to mix the ingredients with you, and humming along to the music that’s playing under her breath when shauna passes her the measured flour. the dough is still a little sticky, but jackie insists on pressing it out with her hands. or, rather, your hands, as she leans back and watches you both work. “this is going to be the best batch ever, trust me,” she says confidently.

as you and shauna roll the dough into balls, jackie takes the opportunity to sneak a bit of the remaining mixture from the bowl, licking her fingers clean. “mmm, perfect,” she declares, even though it’s far from the most refined cookie dough.

then, once you’ve waited for it to settle on the counter top and it is no longer sticky to the touch, jackie does join you, sliding in between the two of you with a grin. her eyes light up with newfound determination as she grabs a stencil from the pile of cutters. “okay,” she says, holding it up like it’s some kind of sacred relic, “these need to be perfect!”

her brows furrow as she presses the stencil into the dough with precision, carving out snowflakes, deers, and sharp-edged trees. jackie’s tongue pokes out just slightly from between her lips as she concentrates, the sight making you smile to yourself.

shauna takes a much more relaxed approach. she opts for a simple star-shaped cutter which she presses into the mixture. her stars all end up a little lopsided,one point always slightly shorter than the others, but there’s a charm to them all the same.

jackie leans over slightly, rolling the dough thinner as she watches shauna’s work over her shoulder. “you’re cutting the stars a little too deep,” she murmurs, sliding an arm casually around her back. shauna doesn’t pull away, but she does shoot jackie a flat look.

“it’s cookies” she reminds her as she presses another star into the dough without so much as a glance at jackie’s so-called supervision.

you chuckle at their dynamic, grabbing the last remaining piece for yourself. “you two are getting way too serious about this,” you tease, poking the soft dough playfully. “i’m just going to make a few simple christmas trees, okay? nothing fancy”

she looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. “simple?” she echoes, brushing a hand across your lower back as she passes behind you to grab another cutter. “is that even allowed in this kitchen?”

you shake your head, unable to hold back your laughter. “you’re both impossible,” you mutter, but the warmth that blooms in your chest as shauna leans her head lightly against your shoulder for a brief moment and jackie sneaks a quick kiss to your temple reminds you just how much you love these moments with the two, lopsided stars, picture perfect snowflakes, and all.

some more headcanons! <3

jackie, who gets even more competitive when it comes to the decorating process.

as the cookies cool on the counter, the decorating begins. immediately, jackie claims that she’s going to “show you how it’s done” and picks up her piping bag with confidence. her perfectionism is a little annoying occasionally (like the way her eyes fixate on you whenever she catches you making a small mistake: an uneven swirl, a too-thick line of frosting). “oh, no. that’s not it. let me show you how it’s done,” she’ll say, scooting closer to offer her “help.” “it’s just cookies, jax” shauna snickers from across the table, outlining her wonky stars.

shauna, who proposes that you could use the finished cookies as little christmas gifts for the other yellowjackets and your families.

the three of you make enough cookies to last you through winter, so you decide to deliver some to friends or family. “you know,” shauna starts, licking the dough off her finger, “we could package some of these up for the team. little christmas gifts or something” jackie looks up, eyebrows raised. “like little presents?” “yeah,” shauna says, shrugging. “wrap them in cute bags, tie some ribbons, maybe write little notes. it’d be nice!” you nod in agreement: “that’s sweet! we’ll set aside a batch for the team! and one for our families too!”

jackieshauna & post baking cuddles <3

once all the cookies are baked and decorated, you all curl up together with warm blankets on the couch, using the fact that jackie’s parents are still at work to be openly affectionate with each other. all three of you share one oversized blanket and the smell of cookies lingers in the air. you sit close, passing around the baked goods and sipping on hot cocoa. jackie leans into your side, her fingers absently tracing patterns on your knee, while shauna has her head tucked against your shoulder sleepy smile on her face.

“you know,” jackie murmurs, her voice soft as she breaks off a piece of a sugar cookie, “this might be my favorite part of christmas. just…this”

shauna hums in agreement, her eyes closed as she leans closer into you. “yeah,” she says, barely above a whisper. “me too”

you smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, your free hand reaching to comb through jackie’s hair.

[kanencrow]

feral werewolf!shauna thoughts.....

i cant stop thinking about how fucked up and offputting she's going to be this season i have some Thoughts. warnings for like...dark themes... but this is yellowjackets we're talking about.

okay. first of all. BITER.

you have to physically restrain her from biting the girls. and eating them alive (poor mari). she has no problem biting you too, usually to warn you to back off, but she's an aggressive dog who doesn't know how to control herself and has definitely bit your skin off at least once.

she instigates hunts. starts fights with the girls so everyone's on edge and has an excuse to propose a hunt. howls at the moon while she's chasing them and literally froths at the mouth when she catches them. she likes to bring their body to you kinda like a cat would and expects praise. sometimes, she keeps them alive just so she can kill them in front of you and show you who is in charge around here.

she likes to hunt you too! intentionally deprives you of food so you're weak when she chases you. drags you around by the collar of your shirt and shows you off to the girls like you were chosen to be sacrificed. she gets super scary and you can never tell when she's being serious when she asks them what part of you they want first, but it's kind of hot? she'd definitely eat you in a heartbeat to become one with you, but you're still alive for now :)

shauna who makes you a collar like YOU'RE the dog. it's mainly just to show ownership over you so the other girls don't go taking what's hers (she's insanely jealous and even one little glance toward you has her fuming. melissa's amputated leg is still healing from shauna's little attack).

thats it for now but i need her so bad

[kanencrow]

Just saw that new Yellowjackets trailer…

[kanencrow]

── ౿🕸️ spidey!jackie taylor

— i wrote this back when i made these moodboards and never posted it. so have some spidey!jackie before i start my christmas series tomorrow <3

rain pours in steadily as you huddle beneath the crumbling awning of a fire escape, trembling from the adrenaline of the attack. your mind races, replaying the moment when the woman swooped in, her sleek red-and-blue suit a blur as she disarmed your attacker and sent them running with a sharp kick and a web-shot to the wall.

and now she’s back, hanging upside down from thread, the dim streetlights catching on the rain-slicked fabric of her mask.

“are you okay?” her voice is slightly muffled by the mask, but there’s a lightness to her tone that calms you.

“y-yeah, i think so,” you stammer, the words stumbling clumsy from your mouth. your heart pounds for entirely different reasons now as you stare at her from up close, your mysterious savior dangling casually in front of you as if this is just another night for her.

“you’re shaking,” she points out, tilting her head slightly. “you sure you’re not hurt?”

you shake your head, your hands still clutched tightly to your coat. “no, i’m fine. because of you. god, i don’t even know how to thank you…”

jackie (though you don’t know her identity yet) chuckles softly. “there’s no need!” she assures “comes with the job description”

your gaze flickers to her mask, where her lips are covered. there’s something about her presence that’s both comforting and electrifying at the same time. like being in the presence of a friend, of somebody familiar. “can i…can i at least know who you are?” you ask.

“no can do,” she replies, playful but firm. “the whole mask thing kinda defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”

you smile despite yourself and the shock. “right. of course. spider…girl? spiderwoman?”

“something like that.” she shrugs -as much as she can while hanging upside down. “but if it helps, you can just call me your friendly neighborhood-“

“hero,” you interrupt softly, the word hanging between you like the raindrops suspended on her web.

for a moment, you both hesitate, before your voice breaks through the steady rhythm of the downpour. “do you trust me?”

the question seems to catch her off guard: her head tilts slightly, and even though you can’t see her expression, you sense the slight tension in her frame. “what?”

“do you trust me?” you repeat, softer this time, your hand hovering near the base of her mask. you meet her gaze (or what you imagine to be her gaze through the white lenses) and there’s a long, charged moment before she nods.

taking a deep breath, you reach up and gently peel the mask past her lips, just enough to reveal them. a soft, pink curve against the bright red of her suit. her breath hitches audibly as you step closer, tilting your head to align your face with hers despite the strange, upside-down angle.

you’ll have to thank this stranger somehow, for what she’s done tonight. and, since you don’t know her identity, or anything else about her except for the frequent reports of the local newspaper, this is the next best thing you can think of.

your heart pounds as you lean in, lips brushing hers. tentatively at first, and then fully when she doesn’t pull pack. the kiss is warm, despite the cold rain; it’s delicate, every drop of tension between you melting where your lips meet hers. the woman presses into you slightly, and you can feel her gloved fingers tighten briefly on the webline keeping her suspended. your own hand still sits on her masked cheek, feeling the soft fabric of her suit against your skin.

when you finally pull back, you glance at her face, and even with the mask obscuring most of it, you can tell she’s staring at you. you wish you could see more than just her parted lips.

“stay safe, y/n” she murmurs, her voice softer and barely audible.

you never told her your name.

before you can say anything, she tugs the mask back into place and shoots another web into the night. with a graceful arc, she swings away, leaving you standing there, heart racing and lips tingling.

[kanencrow]

Me too

[kanencrow]

For a Gwen Stacy story 😁 her transmasc sibling struggling with dysphoria and Gwen comforting and being protective of him?

Got Your Back - Gwen Stacy | Headcanon

Summary: How does Gwen deal with her transmasc sibling who's dealing with dysphoria?

Warnings: Swearing, Slight Crudeness, Reader Goes by He/Him Pronouns.

A/N: These are more general headcanon's with the request also added in. Thanks for the request, Anon. Sorry that it's a lot shorter than my other stuff (I ran out of ideas). But, if needed, you can always request a part two!

Word Count: 800+

Everyone has their own personal bouts of dysphoria.

But it doesn’t make it any less important when it comes to Gwen helping you deal with it. She feels like, as your sister, it’s her duty to make sure you’re feeling comfortable in your own skin each and every day, and so when there’s those occasions – whether they’re often or not – she takes them very seriously. Almost too seriously, sometimes. Though, that’s just who she is, she can’t really help it. 

It’s endearing, more than anything. 

For Gwen, it’s like second nature. Knowing when you’re feeling particularly dysphoric, and when you’re needing affirmations that correlate to your identity and who you truly are. She manages to be pretty subtle about it, too. Like when you get dressed for school or any other outing. You’re wearing the clothes that you find comfortable, that fit you, and she immediately notices you and calls you handsome with a teasing shove to your shoulder, just to embarrass you a little while simultaneously complimenting you. 

It’s her duty as a sister to tease you, just let it happen.

She’ll do other things to help you feel more like yourself, too. Like making sure to refer to you with your pronouns or your name more often than not, just to remind you and assure you that you are exactly what you identify as. Because the last thing she wants is for you to feel dysphoric or insecure about your gender. She’ll even go as far as to swing around town and buy you a gift that affirms you, too. Maybe a new hoodie or t-shirt, or something that you’ve personally had your eyes on for a while.

Once, she bought a t-shirt for herself that said: ‘I love my transmasculine brother’. 

She unironically wears it.

Says she likes the material, so that’s why.

You think she’s a dork for that.

Gwen would definitely beat someone’s ass, too, if they misgendered you or made you feel like you were lesser than them. Has one-hundred percent punched someone in the jaw after they blatantly went out of their way to use the wrong pronouns for you. That was literally after she corrected them as well, and they still didn’t listen. Sure, she was sent to the principal's office immediately after, but did she regret it? Hell no. Did your dad really care after he heard her reasoning? Hell no. 

He actually rooted her on, but like… discreetly. 

He is a cop, he has to uphold some form of professionalism. 

Gwen will sometimes go to the pharmacy and pick up your testosterone, if that’s something you choose to take. Always comes in through your window and hands you the supplies like some sort of magician that’s wondering if they plucked out the right card you had chosen. You’ll always internally wonder why she didn’t just decide to come into your room normally, but after so many times of her doing it, you just accept it and let it go. On top of that, if you’re someone who’s afraid of needles, or just absolutely loathes the idea or act of injecting yourself, she’ll do it for you – she doesn’t mind. 

She doesn’t even blame you, honestly. 

If you have top surgery, too – or just recently underwent the procedure, she’ll monitor you like a hawk. Making sure your drains aren’t leaking or anything, making sure your stitches haven’t come loose, or even just helping you put on a loose shirt – like a flannel, once you’re allowed to by your doctor. She’s pretty damn attentive towards you, especially since your dad is always at work, so he’s unable to personally help you himself. You’d almost prefer her to assist you anyway, though. Contrary to popular belief, your father is pretty squeamish, so the possibility of getting anything done would be low. 

She would get on your case about applying scar cream to your chest after you get rid of those stupid drains and are able to – finally – live out your day-to-day life without the restrictions your doctor forced you to abide by. Whether you’re fine with the marks healing or not, she doesn’t care. Put on the applicant or she’ll web you up and do it herself. She’s done it before, don’t test her. 

All in all, though, Gwen has got to be one of your biggest supporters. It’s hard to get her to not support you on something that makes you feel more comfortable in your own skin, as well as makes you genuinely happy. Of course, she’d definitely say you’re wrong and dumb if you think that pineapple belongs on pizza, but that’s entirely trivial in comparison to you being transmasc. You’re her brother, someone she’d do anything to protect. 

So to say she loves you a bunch, is an understatement. 

She’d flip New York upside down if it meant making you happy. 

[kanencrow]

current experience

[kanencrow]

heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol

And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.

Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.

Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.

my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her

── ౿🪵 NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU

— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.

— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.

— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!

out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.

shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.

perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.

maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.

either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.

so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.

at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.

gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.

sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.

over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.

one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.

when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.

she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.

as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.

maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.

it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.

you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.

her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.

that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.

it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.

after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.

shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.

she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.

“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.

when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.

even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.

around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.

that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.

you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.

in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.

the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.

it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.

“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.

“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.

shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.

now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.

shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.

"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.

you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.

other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.

you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.

“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”

shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3

[kanencrow]

any trans person reading this I love you

any woman reading this I love you

any poc minority reading this I love you

any queer person reading this I love you

edit:

no matter how many trolls or trumpies come in my comments and spew their nonsense I will keep saying it over and over and over again no matter how many times to show them I will not change. I will never choose violence or hate ever.

any disabled person reading this I love you

any person out of country that wished they could desperately help I love you

Any parents of a queer child who did everything they deemed “right” to protect their child and still feel as though they failed I love you

any person on the spectrum I love you

Any SA survivors I love you

Any person that needs life threatening healthcare and can’t afford it I love you

Any diabetic person I love you

I don’t know you. But I love you. I will always choose love that’s not a bad thing nor will I ever feel bad about choosing it

[kanencrow]

I have no faith in America dude. Seriously.

[kanencrow]

remember, there are still votes to be counted, all of the states besides alaska were blue 4 years ago

trump hasn't officially won yet as nevada, arizona, wisconsin, maine, alaska and michigan are still counting, there's still a chance here

don't give up hope 🙏🙏

i will wake up to a kamala win amen 🙏

[kanencrow]

Werewolf boyfriend.

A/N: This is a continuation of a fictober propmt I wrote, which you can find here (with another prompt set in the same universe that you can find here)! I had some nsfw headcanons but I decided to split this in two so it was more managable to read. Enjoy!

Contains: transmasc Shaun, slice of life, sexual innuendos, not proofread + grammar mistakes.

Life since Shaun turned has been...interesting, to say the least.

His behavior has gone from tender, introverted but gentle to intense and sudden, sometimes blurring the line between human and animal.

You've noticed that he became much more violent than before. Shaun was already pretty much a hothead, never starting conflict, but not afraid to speak up against bullshit. He had been 'used' to other people's bullshit ever since he transitioned, even before, considering his family's history. But it seems that now, his patience is wearing thin and has begun to be replaced with white hot anger.

While he's certainly not the first one to pick fights, he is the one that ends them. Anytime you're hanging with him and the Yellowjackets at a club, if anyone tries to flirt with you or makes insensitive comments out loud, he will get in their faces and threaten them. He will fight teeth and claws until his opponent is against the floor and he has to get dragged away. This resulted in you getting permanently banned from more than one club.

He became much more proud than he was once, proudly showing off to you or others. Whenever you are tending to his wounds after a bar fight, he pushes his chest out, proud of having protected you. And he knows he shouldn't let his mind wander, but seeing how much you care for him, feeling your hands on his bare skin, touching his chest... makes him feel good. It would take a second for him to push you flat against him, touching and groping every inch of your skin, kissing until your mouth feels numb... "There, done" you say, hands retreating from his chest and he has to ground himself to not jump at you. He is a gentleman after all.

Speaking of bar fighting, Shaun has gotten much stronger than once. Testosterone helps overall with building his muscles, so the newfound strength of his wolf mutation only adds more room for improvement.

You are just going upstairs when you see Shaun working out, sweat trailing down his muscles and grunting. You have to stop yourself from jumping on him and letting yourself be taken right there on the floor.

But his strength isn't useful only for bar fighting and to get yourself off -perv-; it's also a new asset for the house. You have tried everything you can to open that jar of jam for the past five minutes, and he'll just walk past you, seeing you struggle and will simply open it with no effort. Sometimes though, when even he can't, he will accidentally break the jar with his hand and you will have to medicate him asap. The first time it happened you were shitting your pants, but after the fifth time you stopped wincing at the sight of the glass shards in his hand.

As the month progresses to the full moon, Shaun's body and demeanor change. He gets stronger, bulkier but also more prone to anger.

He will also become much more clingier than usual. One moment you will be just laying down on your shared bed, waiting for him to come home from college and the next you find yourself under a 8 feet giant fluffy dog creature. You may try to make him go away, because his fur is getting in your mouth, but no matter how much you try, he will not budge one bit. By the time he's satisfied with your cuddle session, you will be covered in spit and fur, and in dire need of a shower.

His pokemon team consists solely of wolf and dogs pokemon, his favorite being Lycanroc.

After a while, he actually manages to control his werewolf form, meaning that he can transform for a few minutes even if it's not a full moon.

One night you were driving on an empty road when you got a flat tire. "Shiiit" you put your hands on your face, the situation not helping the day you had and currently not making you relax at all. You look towards Shaun, who seems just as panicked as you, until you get an idea. You were coming home from a club, where you had... let's say, 'explored the different horizons of your relationship', alone, on a bed. A lightbulb lights up above your head as you connect the situation you are in to the item sitting in your back seat. "Shaunnn" you say in a sing-songy voice, pointing to the backseat. He follows your finger till he makes the connection, "NO, NO, not a chance-!". Cut to him in his wolf form, wearing the harness he had on when he was under you -you don't want your boyfriend to choke himself with a collar- and pulling the car behind him. "Come on Shaun, put a little more backbone into it!" and he just slowly turns to you, baring his teeth and snarling. Maybe you shouldn't poke him too much...

Shaun gets incredibly hungry, in werewolf form or not. You may find him ravaging through your pantry at 2am stuffing himself with food. He doesn't even completely seem like himself when he does this, and will more often than not snarl at you. You can try to take him back to bed, but you will only find yourself with a bite on your neck that goes deep enough to make you bleed. The morning after, you will find Shaun sleeping on the floor, surrounded by crumbles of food.

He will apologize profusely for having hurt you, but will also make the point that "You shouldn't have. You know I can't help it" when he clearly feels guilty. Throughout the day, he will try to get on your good side without having to apologize by giving you back rubs, getting you a cup of your favorite drink, smooching the pain away from your wound. Then, he just admits defeat and apologizes, swearing he will make it up to you during the night. Prepare to have a wild night baby.

[kanencrow]

we developed powerful teeth and jaws to rend the flesh of the devious sourdough loaf