let the darkness set us free

i write sometimes. Masterlist

[a-simple-imagine]

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆·̩̩.̩̥·̩̩⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩ NAVIGATION

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧ alice. she/her/they/them. ace. libra. i like yellowjackets, five nights at freddy's and renee rapp.

masterpost // rules // asks // donations

requests are: open

[a-simple-imagine]

Just discovered Don’t They Know a Rabbit Can’t Cry and it's so good!!!

The angstttt 🥲🥲🥲

It really got me hooked omg

And your writing is amazing!!! 👏👏

Do you think you would continue the series?

Wish you the best!

All the love 💙

sorry i’m only just seeing this, thank you so much!! i’m glad you enjoyed it 💜

I may possibly continue but the problem with not finishing an idea when i start it is i completely forget where i was going with it so i actually don’t know what i would write

[just-someones-stupidity]

"thats a fictional character" well duh do you think i dont know that

btw im making out sloppy style with said fictional character rn if you even care

[fireeternal]

rare selfshippers i love you. like i've never heard of that guy a day in my fucking life but you're so right pookie he seems perfect for you

[crybaby-selfships]

anyways I LOVE YOU OLDER SELF SHIPPERS!! self shippers well into their adulthood who never lost their love for fictional characters! i hope you keep self shipping till you’re 80! and i hope i get to be just like you when im older too! NEVER STOP SELF SHIPPING!!

[girlwithapomegranate-deactivate]

thank you for following me I have nothing to offer

[isabelopaque]

Dont unfollow me I can post about something you care even less about wait

[rhiannonsknife]

how would you feel about shotgun kisses with mari and inexperienced!reader

- 🏂 anon

» mari ibarra x fem!reader.

— warnings: mostly just fluff. cigarettes/smoking. first kiss, kind of. well not according to mari. hence: implied internalized homophobia. unfortunately i didn’t beta read...

even with the front door closed, you can feel the bass of the music rattling through the porch boards. clusters of people crowd lottie’s front yard, so it isn’t exactly quiet or private either, but it’s still better than the packed interior. at least out here, you catch a break in the fresh air on your own. or so you’d thought: just as you’re about to sit down and lean back against the porch steps, the door opens again, and mari walks out. she seemingly has the decency to step outside for her smoke instead of adding to the thick fog within the house, where a bunch of guys from the basketball team are apparently on a mission to hot box the matthews’ living room. as far as decency goes, she lacks the sense to see that you came out here for some alone time, bumping into you as she wedges herself into the space between you & the railing. “jeez, you look miserable!”

or maybe she did notice, after all, and simply didn’t care enough to leave you to it. “i’m not.”

at that, mari snorts, smoke drifting from her lips before she exhales it in a cleaner stream, turning her head so it drifts away and not straight into your face. “you’re standing outside a party all by yourself,” she points out. “i don’t know how much miserable it could get.” the way she looks at you, a bemused glint in her eyes, makes it very clear she’s not actually all that invested in your well being. if anything, she seems entertained rather than concerned, eager to poke at your presumably bad mood when she holds the cigarette out to you. “here!”

eyeing the red lipstick residue on the filter, you hesitate, and, although mari doesn’t know that it’s the thought of putting your lips where hers had been that makes you falter, she very much notices your reluctance and groans: “oh my god, don’t tell me you’ve never smoked before!”

“i- i didn’t say that!”

“as if you had to!” she takes another long drag and squints at you as the tip of the cigarette glows in the dark. “i’ve never seen you smoke at any of lottie’s parties. at any parties, really…”

the thing is, there are plenty of things mari already has on you, plenty of rumors to spread (some of those going around, you’re pretty sure she has put out there herself), and no matter how long you’ve been on the team together, even with friendly offers like sharing a cigarette, you can never quite be sure with her. and as if you’d willingly give her more shit to talk about, later!!

defensively, you hold out your hand: “i’ll be fine.”

“sure you will.” mari hands the cigarette over, watching you take it skeptically. while she’s right, you haven’t really done this before, you’ve seen enough people smoke, at parties or hidden under the bleachers, that, as you bring it up to your lips, you’re convinced that surely it can’t be that hard!!

this close, the cigarette smell is stronger, but more importantly, breathing it in burns. the smoke hits the back of your throat like fucking sandpaper, making your lungs seize up & tears spring to your eyes. predictably, you’re doubled over in no time, wheezing as you clutch the railing beside you. the sound of mari’s laugh barely reaches you through the coughing fit, yet even with your blurry vision, you can make out the line of her throat, exposed, her head tipped back while you’re practically choking beside her. “jeez,” she cackles. “that was like even worse than i expected! i wish i got that on camera!”

in an attempt to recover what little remains of your dignity, you wipe your mouth and blink to clear the sting from your eyes. “shut up, mar.”

“i even warned you!”

“you’re the one who gave it to me!”

mari plucks the cigarette from your fingers before you can drop it, grinning as she takes a much more normal drag without so much as a wince. “who taught you to inhale like that?”

“i thought that was how it worked…” you can feel the heat creeping up your neck and know, without checking your reflection in the large windows behind you, that you must be blushing furiously.

“if you’re trying to die, maybe.” you glare at her, but mari simply shakes her head, still amused, and brings the cigarette back to her lips while watching you catch your breath. “you done there?”

reluctantly, you nod. at least you really fucking hope so, because the last thing you need is another coughing fit, both for the sake of your lungs and your reputation. as mari studies you sideways, you brace for the teasing to continue. it is the most reasonable thing she could do here, considering how badly you set yourself up for this one, and yet she only sighs: “alright, come here.”

“what?”

“i said come here.” mari gestures impatiently. “unless you want to embarrass yourself again?”

wanting anything but that, you obediently (albeit stiffly) follow suit. she steps closer and grabs your wrist to tug you forward, rolling her eyes at your stiffness. “relax, i’m helping you.”

“helping me..?”

“shotgunning, idiot!” the confusion must really show on your expression, because mari groans out loud. “god, you’re hopeless.” she taps the cigarette against the railing. “okay. i take the drag, then i blow the smoke to you. and you just have to breathe it in!”

“are you- uhm- i mean-” you stammer stupidly, caught off guard by what she’s proposing here. because that would mean mari ibarra, of all people, would be leaning in close enough that you could breathe smoke straight from her mouth. mari ibarra, who has spent the better part of the season commenting on jackie & shauna getting too close, asking if they needed ‘a private room to lez out’ when they showed up late to practice. mari ibarra, who never misses a chance to talk shit about ‘that blonde jv girl with the hat’ and the prospect of her being a lesbian. not the term mari had used, but oh well. and now she’s standing barely a foot away, suggesting something that sounds suspiciously like putting your mouths together in what might as well be a kiss. “that sounds worse..?” you manage at last.

“it’s literally easier,” mari deadpans. “do you want help or not? just trust me for once!”

before you can argue, she draws in another mouthful of smoke and, this time, holds it. mari’s lips seal together as she turns back to you and, as if this whole thing isn’t absurd enough yet, leans in. with her hands planted on either side of the railing, she cages you in, her free hand still keeping the cigarette pinched between two fingers, held off to the side so the smoke curls past both of you. “open your mouth.” she breathes. without a second thought, without considering that this could very well be a trap for her to later claim you walked into so willingly, you obey.

you obey, and the next thing you know, mari presses her mouth over yours. the smoke from her exhale spills between your lips, a thin stream pushed directly into your lungs as she breathes out. it really is much smoother this time, nothing like your earlier attempt, though you’re far more aware of mari’s lips ghosting over your own as you automatically breathe it her in. as soon as the smoke is gone, she pulls back, leaving the night air suddenly cold against your lips. if it weren’t for the railing behind you, you’re pretty sure you would’ve tipped right over.

“well?” mari prompts.

you still cough once, but it fades quickly, more of a surprised sputter than a full choking fit, and without leaving a nasty burn behind. “…okay,” you admit.

“see?” she grins. “you’re welcome.”

“you could’ve warned me you were going to-”

“what? kiss you?” she cuts you off. “this is just a technique! everyone does it, like, all the time! i did it with nat last week!”

good for you, you nearly blurt. who would’ve thought mari was that interested in kissing the girls on the team..? “well, it felt like a kiss.”

“you wish, gaywad!” mari laughs, strangely eager to get past the subject. “you’re such a fucking rookie, by the way,” she adds, nudging your shoulder with the side of her arm. “next time, just say you don’t know what you’re doing…maybe i can help again.”

[tobesolnelyx]

— PRONTI, QUASI, VAI || LOTTIE MATTHEWS X FEM!READER X SHAUNA SHIPMAN

SUMMARY: your best friend who is desperately in love with you is very jealous of a random girl you’ve met. lottie could survive anyone. but her? really? hurt/comfort. love triangle. artstudent!shauna. musicstudent!lottie. college au.

WARNINGS: alcohol. smoking. violence. slight angst.

NOW PLAYING: READY, STEADY, GO! — Harry Styles

A/N: credits to my lovely girlfriend for helping me with this one<3

Lottie could have sworn that whoever made the sandwiches at her favorite café must have been putting something addictive in them. She was convinced that an ordinary sandwich simply couldn’t taste that good. She shoved the last bite into her mouth just as she noticed your amused expression. She cleared her throat, washing it all down with a generous gulp of freshly squeezed orange juice. You shook your head and returned to your sketchbook.

Soft music played in the café. Lottie could hear the murmur of conversations and the slightly louder hiss of the espresso machine at work. Someone laughed; someone else’s fingers tapped a little too loudly on a laptop keyboard. Outside, dusk was settling in, and Lottie realized that soon you’d have to head back to your dorm room. She felt your gaze on her hands as she worked on a rough sketch for the next class. The pencil moved quietly across the paper.

Lottie’s eyes drifted upward on their own.

The decision to live together during college had come easily. Your parents had known each other forever, so the two of you had become friends as well. Naturally, you had seen each other constantly while growing up as neighbors back home in Wiskayok. You had both planned to study something related to art, so there had been no objections. That was how you ended up under one roof with your soulmate and best friend. You wouldn’t have felt as comfortable with anyone else.

Lottie couldn’t say the same.

“You’re staring,” you muttered, drawing a vertical line. Lottie tilted her head, trying to understand what was starting to appear on the page, but she couldn’t make sense of it. She drummed her fingers on the tabletop while you took a sip of your coffee.

“Because you look nice,” she replied simply, shrugging.

Lottie had grown used to the fact that you never took her compliments seriously. At least not as seriously as she wished you would. Just a friendly remark, that’s all. Friends said things like that all the time. At first she had been nervous about complimenting you, but later she realized you didn’t notice the clumsy attempts at flirting hidden inside them. Lottie could practically propose to you, confess undying love, and you would still treat it like a friendly gesture.

It was hard to blame you. For years you had been used to Lottie as your best friend.

Nothing more.

Lottie had never admitted that she had been hopelessly in love with you since you were eleven. At first she thought you simply preferred men. Later, with a bitter taste in her mouth, she realized that you liked women.

You even dated them.

Just not her.

You smiled slightly, and Lottie couldn’t stop the corners of her own lips from lifting. Your hands intertwined on the table, and despite herself, Lottie felt that pleasant warmth spreading through her chest. You didn’t even look up at her, your eyes were still fixed on the sketchbook. Her fingers tightened lightly around yours.

For a moment you sat in silence. Lottie’s thumb moved gently over your skin.

Lottie certainly hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you would probably never see her as girlfriend material. And she had tried a lot. Casual sex hadn’t helped; dating other people hadn’t helped either. Every time she came back to you, sprawled on the floor in your room, sighing that it just wasn’t the same.

The worst part was listening to your advice. Your reassurances that she would surely find someone someday. Just as frustrating were the evenings when you told her about your current relationship. Countless nights together because once again something hadn’t worked out.

“Oh,” you shifted suddenly, and your hand slipped away from hers. An unpleasant chill settled over Lottie, and the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a grimace. “I didn’t tell you…” you murmured, setting your pencil aside and frantically searching for your phone.

Lottie doubted she would ever truly accept it, but she had learned to endure it. Better to have a fragment than nothing at all.

“Another drama?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. It turned out that adults could find plenty of reasons to make each other’s lives difficult.

You shook your head, finally finding your phone, brows furrowed as you tapped quickly on the keyboard. Lottie waited, watching you without the slightest bit of shame.

“There’s this really pretty girl in my year and—”

Lottie noticed the footsteps approaching your table much sooner than you did. Quick, but measured. As if someone wanted specific people to notice them without drawing the attention of everyone else.

Lottie stiffened when Shauna Shipman stopped beside the table, spinning a pencil in her hand, the exact same kind resting between the pages of your sketchbook. Lottie had hoped she would never run into Shauna face to face again. Their last confrontation had ended with a black eye and a torn jacket. For some reason, she had chosen not to tell you about it, brushing it off by saying she’d taken a nasty fall on her face.

She glanced at you and forced her expression into neutrality. The café had air conditioning, so it would have been hard to blame the sudden flush on your cheeks on the heat. Something unpleasant twisted in Lottie’s stomach.

Shauna shot her a single glance. The crease on her forehead deepened, but she didn’t spare Lottie more than a moment, as if the girl weren’t there at all. She extended the pencil toward you casually.

“You left it in class,” she murmured, and Lottie still couldn’t understand how such a gentle voice belonged to someone who had smeared her blood across her knuckles. “I figured it was yours. I was going to give it back during the next class, but I noticed you and happened to have it with me.” She gestured vaguely toward the counter and adjusted the strap of her bag.

Lottie had never seen you look quite so embarrassed as when you took the pencil.

“Thanks,” you said.

Shauna nodded without returning your smile, but the tension left her face. She glanced briefly at your drawing, and Lottie could have sworn that something like a faint smile appeared on her lips.

It disappeared completely when she noticed Lottie again.

You swallowed, and before Shauna could disappear from view, you called after her.

“See you Monday!”

She only waved a hand and pushed the door open.

Silence fell between you. Lottie stared stubbornly at the pencil in your hand.

“Is that her?” she asked hoarsely, quickly clearing her throat so it wouldn’t sound like it bothered her.

You nodded, finally looking at her again—for the first time since Shauna had approached the table. Lottie couldn’t say she would ever get used to hearing about your newest crush, but this was definitely worse.

It was Shauna.

Lottie rubbed her cheekbone unconsciously, still feeling the fists crashing into her face. She had tried to explain that night that she hadn’t known everything, but Shauna had been too much of a brute to listen. Lottie couldn’t understand how someone like you could like a rude, spiteful girl who clearly had a serious problem with aggression.

“She’s pretty,” you said softly.

Lottie looked straight into your eyes, which immediately flicked away to the watch on your wrist. They never stayed on her long, but they always returned.

“I’ll text you if I come home later,” you added in that sweet tone of yours, kissing her cheek before you started packing up.

Lottie finished the last bitter sip of her coffee.

***

Your eyes followed Shauna so intensely that you couldn’t focus on the easel in front of you. She seemed to be having trouble as well, flipping through her sketchbook in frustration every few moments. Her fingers were smeared with paint, leaving fingerprints absolutely everywhere. Against your better judgment, you peeked between the pages of her notebook.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, but her sketches were so terribly bizarre that your gaze kept drifting to them. Above all, they were technically good—good enough that it crossed your mind to ask her for something like tutoring.

Going to the park, practicing drawing together, and maybe lunch afterward?

Your problem was that you really wanted to ask her out on a date, but you didn’t want it to sound like you were actually asking her on a date. That was why a scenario straight out of a romantic comedy didn’t seem like the right start.

You reached for your bottle of water. The professor was still rambling about a topic you barely understood. Your canvas was almost empty, and the ticking of the clock seemed to grow louder and louder. The pages of Shauna’s sketchbook kept rustling until she finally stopped on one. You saw it for a second, but you were almost certain you had just seen your own face carefully sketched in her journal.

When Shauna realized you were looking, she flipped the page so forcefully that she tore it. She grimaced and suddenly lifted her head to glance at you

“Don’t you have something to do?” she asked sharply.

You raised a hand defensively, still holding water in your mouth.

“Mind your own business.”

You swallowed the water with difficulty, shaking your head. Your heart began to beat faster, the image of the drawing still in front of your eyes.

“I think my face being in your journal makes it partly my business,” you blurted out in a sudden surge of courage.

Shauna looked at you as if she were about to hit you.

“Excuse me?”

“Why that choice of model?” you replied with a question of your own.

She narrowed her eyes and was just opening her mouth to say something when the professor’s booming voice cut your conversation short.

“Ladies,” he said, shaking his head before returning to his lecture.

“You’re fucking cheeky,” she whispered, rolling her eyes once she was sure the man wasn’t paying attention anymore.

For a moment neither of you spoke, though Shauna’s leg nudged yours—and stayed there.

Lottie had the feeling she ran into Shauna absolutely everywhere now. It didn’t surprise her that the girl was talking to you when Lottie came to pick you up after class that day. What surprised her much more was the smile that appeared on Shauna’s lips while you talked to her about who knew what. She smoked a cigarette while the sun set behind the building, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction so it wouldn’t drift into your face.

Even when you weren’t around, Lottie felt like she saw her everywhere—on campus, in the library, at every party. As if that weren’t enough, she started coming to your apartment. Supposedly to study, though Lottie didn’t really believe it. In her head she had already built an image of Shauna as someone who only wanted to drag you into bed and use you.

At first Lottie had still been able to accept certain things. You still spent time with her; you went out together just as often. You still had time for drives, for movie nights when Lottie could pretend, just for a moment, that you were a couple spending time together. You would drape your legs across her lap while she gently massaged your thighs after a long day running around campus.

Her hands were covered in calluses from hours spent playing the guitar, but maybe that was why her fingers were so skilled and pleasant when they worked out the knots in your muscles. Her thumbs pressed into the softer parts of your body, warming you up in the process.

The reward was always tempting—you would shower her with kisses on the forehead and cheeks after every massage. Deep down, Lottie knew something like that definitely went beyond the boundaries of ordinary close friendship, but since you believed the relationship was entirely platonic, she didn’t have much choice.

“Shauna’s coming over tomorrow,” you murmured, gently kissing her temple.

Lottie barely registered your words, focused on your lips instead, but her hands tightened involuntarily on your thighs.

When Shauna appeared at the apartment, she usually ignored Lottie’s presence completely—didn’t even glance in her direction to avoid unnecessary confrontation. Maybe Lottie would have accepted that if not for the fact that Shauna made herself entirely at home and constantly monopolized your attention.

Lottie couldn’t deny that you kept a balance. You were studying, learning, and maintaining two fairly demanding relationships, and you managed it surprisingly well.

But over time, it started to irritate her.

Every mention of Shauna triggered a sudden spike of anger. Lottie frowned, sometimes asking spitefully whether Shauna perhaps had her own dorm room. The smell of her perfume lingered everywhere, irritating Lottie’s nose, and the sound of her laughter from your room added more creases to Lottie’s forehead.

It was hard not to notice all of it.

At first you chalked it up to Lottie’s frustration—maybe it was just the fear that a serious relationship would mean less time for her. You had been inseparable since childhood. Lottie was one of the most important people in your life, so you tried to reconcile friendship and romance. You showered her with affection, made sure you had time for her, reassured her that you loved her.

But for some reason Lottie still bristled like an angry cat whenever Shauna was around.

You were convinced they hadn’t known each other before— Lottie would have told you —and you had no idea where such strong hostility came from.

Shauna usually brushed off any questions, changing the subject, shaking her head, or giving you a look that made it clear you wouldn’t be discussing it at all.

Shauna wasn’t an easy person. Sometimes she seemed completely emotionally unavailable. She could ghost you even over trivial things, leaving your messages on “read” for hours. You couldn’t understand some of her bursts of anger or cruel words.

Yet after days like that everything returned to normal, and she would appear at your door with flowers in hand, pushing past Lottie as if she were nothing more than an obstacle.

You quickly realized there was no point complaining to Lottie anymore. She used to listen to you, comment, support you somehow. Now she responded only with an incoherent grunt.

Until one day she exploded.

“Maybe because she’s a shitty person,” she growled under her breath after a particularly rough day at college. She had had enough. Her insides burned with jealousy and frustration. You were smart enough to see that Shauna wasn’t exactly stable, yet you still accepted another box of chocolates that would end up in the trash anyway.

She took a sip of coffee without even noticing your confused expression. Your hand with the steaming mug of tea froze in midair.

“Excuse me?” you asked, setting the mug down with a clink. “She’s not—”

Lottie only grunted, gesturing wildly, clearly tangled in her own feelings. You watched as she gave up and stormed out of the room without any explanation.

The climax had really only been a matter of time.

Lottie had had enough that evening, even though it had barely begun. She had no desire to go to the frat house party. She had heard too many stories about events like that—and just as many of them proved true the moment she crossed the threshold. The drive there alone gave her a headache and made her heart pound, because the driver had been none other than fucking Shauna Shipman.

Shauna, who shot her hateful looks through the rearview mirror. Music played softly, and you kept talking about something, not noticing that both of them were too focused on each other to listen to what you were saying. Every time Lottie caught Shauna’s gaze, her hand tightened on your thigh, claiming you as her own.

That was why Lottie lunged for the table with alcohol like someone dehydrated, downing a shot of whatever it contained. Drowning the jealousy, numbing the unbearable frustration, trying to push the image of you and Shauna together in bed out of her head.

The music blared loudly. Nicotine hit her brain when she took a drag from a cigarette. One moment she was inside, pushing through a crowd of sweaty bodies pressed together. The next she was breathing fresh air that hit her harder than the alcohol.

Lottie couldn’t get the image out of her head—of you kissing Shauna by the car barely half an hour earlier. You hadn’t even tried to check on her or see where she was. Which was strange, because Lottie had always had you by her side, her fingers gripping your hip.

Now Shauna’s dirty hands were stuck in her mind, gripping your waist, sliding upward to your neck. Her lips hadn’t been kissing you so much as plundering your mouth, trying to prove something to you and to everyone else.

Lottie felt sick.

Going back inside didn’t make the nausea disappear, if anything, it worsened. The heavy air hit her like a blow, making her dizzy. She didn’t remember how she knew where the bathroom was, but somehow she made it there, leaning heavily against the white door. It was cool, bringing a small bit of relief. She pressed her forehead to it, trying to ignore the alcohol rising in her throat.

She swallowed and pulled the handle. The bass thumped as she tugged on the door.

It didn’t open.

She stepped back and pulled harder.

Still nothing.

Frowning, she tried pushing it with her shoulder, but it didn’t budge.

She slammed her fist against the door. Once. Twice. Three times. She couldn’t hear any sounds from inside, so she growled in frustration. She didn’t care whether there was another bathroom somewhere in the building—maybe even an empty one. She wanted this one.

She licked her lips, tasting your lip gloss.

“I’m gonna puke!” she snarled. No answer. So she tried again, louder. “Open the fucking door, dude!”

At her command, the door swung open—and Lottie’s alcohol-tinged breath washed over Shauna.

Shauna stood perfectly straight, almost proud in her posture. So much so that Lottie suddenly felt shorter, smaller beside her. Her lips parted as she glanced past her into the bathroom.

Shauna was alone.

“Where is she?” Lottie asked, barely forming the words.

Shauna raised an eyebrow. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, her jeans splattered with water. A fresh hickey marked her neck. Lottie rejected the scenario where you had left it there. She preferred to think Shauna was still a terrible person who had already cheated on you.

“I don’t know,” Shauna said quietly, but even through the loud music Lottie could hear her.

“You’re lying,” Lottie replied immediately, leaning against the doorframe.

“I have no idea where she is, Lottie,” Shauna growled, gripping the door tighter.

For a moment they stared at each other. The bass vibrated through their veins. Shauna smelled like the cologne Lottie hated.

Lottie shoved her inside. Shauna might have been stronger, but the surprise was enough to send her stumbling backward into the sink. At that point Lottie didn’t care anymore. Shauna had no right to you. Shauna didn’t know you. Shauna was mean and unstable, and you deserved someone far better than her and her moods.

Even if Lottie had to prove it by force.

Shauna’s expression hardened so sharply that Lottie knew she had just lit the fuse.

In a quick movement Shauna pinned her against the sink. Their hips collided.

“You’re a fucking liar!” Lottie snarled, grabbing the fabric of her shirt. Shauna watched calmly. Lottie caught another scent beneath the cologne.

Your perfume.

The sweet smell of lip gloss, and suddenly she noticed the sheen on Shauna’s skin where you had left the hickey.

A smile spread across Shauna’s face when Lottie realized what she was looking at. You had been here just moments ago. Maybe you had gone to the car for something while Shauna kept the bathroom occupied so you could finish later.

Something boiled over inside Lottie.

She looked into Shauna’s eyes.

Shauna raised a hand to grasp her chin.

Lottie’s gaze dropped to Shauna’s lips—still glossy with your lip gloss.

The same one Lottie was wearing.

And she couldn’t stop herself.

Her lips crushed against Shauna’s before either of them could stop the avalanche. Shauna was rough. Her lips weren’t as soft as yours, but for a moment Lottie could pretend, because Shauna tasted like you.

In every way.

And she let her.

She even kissed back, as if pitying Lottie, letting her taste something she would never truly have.

Until the first punch fell on Lottie’s face like hail. She staggered on legs already unsteady from the alcohol. The second blow split her lip, and suddenly she was back on that parking lot, that night when Shauna had found out what Lottie had done.

“Wise words,” Shauna growled when Lottie hit the floor. She dropped down beside her, and another punch slammed into her sternum, making Lottie groan in pain. She couldn’t tell whether it was her blood roaring in her ears or the DJ still playing the same song. “Coming from someone who sleeps with girls who are already taken.”

Lottie tried to shield herself, but it did little good.

“I didn’t know she was your girlfriend!” she hissed, swinging back and even landing a hit on Shauna’s jaw. She heard a harsh curse and knew she’d landed a solid blow. She scrambled to her feet, but Shauna was just as fast.

“You’re lying,” Shauna spat blood at her feet, staining the white tiles.

They lunged at each other like two enraged bulls. Lottie slammed into the wall; Shauna took a sharp hit to the stomach. Blood filled Lottie’s mouth, and the whole spectacle might have gone on longer if Shauna hadn’t suddenly stopped mid-charge, breathing heavily and staring at your figure in the doorway.

For a moment, the only sound was the music.

[a-simple-imagine]

Would you consider a part 2 to Tenderness and Rot 🙏

maybe??? but i don’t know what that would even look like because in my head the reader dies

[thelhc]

men come and go but x reader fic is forever

[a-simple-imagine]

Tenderness and Rot

synopsis: when you get sick lottie suggests you spend more time outside connecting with the wilderness but shauna isn’t too happy about it

pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader

Words: 3.4k

A/N - this is written from Shauna's POV, but I did still use 'you' as the main way of referring to the reader; otherwise, it would have felt more like an OC, which isn't the intention. writing for shauna still feels kinda new to me but hopefully someone enjoys the suffering

WARNING - toxic relationships, mean!shauna but it’s mostly in her head, talks of cults and spiritualism, discussion of cannibalism and butchering (specifically eating you), self loathing, mentions of death, sickness, vomiting and fevers.

Shauna Shipman was a selfish person. She knew this about herself. She would never deny it. It was just so evident in her innate desire to preserve her own peace at the cost of others, but didn't she deserve that? To be a little selfish? After months stuck in the wilderness, wasn't she allowed just to want to be okay? To be in control? Why did she always have to deal with the worst of it? To lose everything out here? It wasn't fair. Everyone was suffering, but she was the only one choosing to live in reality. She didn't allow herself to believe in Van's tales. Nor did she subscribe to the notion of some higher power. No. Shauna Shipman was all too familiar with the harsh reality. Her best friend was dead, and they had all feasted on her flesh. Her baby was dead and buried somewhere only she knew. She had nothing left but you, and even that seemed to be slipping through her fingers. Not that she can blame anyone but herself.

It was still early. The birds shared songs to welcome the rising sun. Still dark outside as she sat staring through the opening of her hut. Shauna was wide awake. Sleep had always been sort of patchy for her, but it was worse when she was left alone. The thoughts in her head are more apparent. The loss more painful. However, Shauna preferred an early morning. The quiet, undisturbed camp a welcome sight. Nobody was expecting anything of her. Nobody to question her as she wanders off into the woods. She doesn't have to walk far to find you. You had set up a makeshift camp in a small clearing per Lottie's advice. You insisted that being out of her would bring you closer to the wilderness. That you needed to be out here to get better. She personally thought it was nonsense. That Lottie was just spewing whatever you wanted to hear. Praying on your vulnerability. You were sick. You had been for a while now. At first, it seemed like a common cold, so nobody worried too much. Everyone figured it would just go away on its own own but it didn't. It still hadn't. Some days were good. Shauna would see you helping out around camp or chatting with Mari and Akilah. Other days, you couldn't even get out of bed. A bucket always close at hand. It was disgusting. Shauna found it rather pathetic. Sad even. She knows it's not your fault, but she can't help it. Nobody knows what's wrong with you or how long you have. Like everything out here, it was merely a matter of time. You're still asleep when Shauna spots you lying on the fur you had taken from the hut. It was yours to do with as you saw fit, but she can't imagine that it alone is providing much comfort. She is cautious in her approach. You look so peaceful, but she can see how the illness has taken its toll on your body. You used to be so full of life. It was incredible how different you were: how different you both were. The way you'd run around that field was always impressive. Every goal you scored was apparently in her honour. It used to really embarrass her. Your eyes used to light up whenever she stepped into a room. You were always so obvious with your emotions. No shame.   She never saw that now. "Hey," said loudly, gently tapping your side with the front of her shoe. "Fun's over, it's time to come back now." It had been three days. She had humoured you long enough. It wasn't cold enough for it to be an issue yet, but she could feel the slight chill on the breeze each morning. The signs of colder times to come, and you were already in terrible shape. Why take such risks? Shauna waits a moment before pushing you a little harder with her foot. "Come on." Your low groan morphs into more of a whine as you adjust your position to look at her. 

"Shauna?" asked groggily. She couldn't tell if you were just tired or if today was one of your bad days. They were more apparent as of late. 

"I'm serious," She declares. "You've been out here long enough; it's not gonna make a difference." 

"Just go back to camp, Shauna." Your voice was quiet but sure as you rolled over to turn away from her. You had no intention of listening. You hadn't when she first explained how ludicrous this venture was. Even if the wilderness was real, surely it would have done something when you first got sick? And if it only worked off devotion, Shauna doubted a few days in the woods would be enough. Camp wasn't ideal either, but at the very least, you had shelter and fire, and she was there. She didn't know how to make you better, but at least she was there in case something happened. You wouldn't die out here on your own. She hardly shows it and wouldn't dare mention it, but she spends a lot of time thinking about your death. Thinking about Jackie's too. Pregnancy. She wouldn't let you die out here. Why wouldn't you listen to her? Why was Lottie's word gospel but her own so easy to ignore? Lottie wasn't exactly of sound mind right now. Was it just because she was nice to you? Is it really that easy to influence you? 

"The wilderness isn't going to help you; it's all bullshit." You lie still and quiet, Shauna wondering if maybe you've gone back to sleep. There is an urge to kick you again, but instead, she kneels beside you, a gentle hand on your back. "Baby, please." She hasn't called you that in a long while. Feels almost wrong coming from her lips. The two of you weren't exactly on the best of terms. Technically, you were still together, but your shared space felt more like an expectation than a want. Couldn't exactly demand the girls make a new one, just for you. Shauna wasn't sure where the two of you stood these days. It was her own fault. She was the one to pull away, but she won't admit that. She doesn't like to give it much thought. She shakes you a little, but you still don't respond. More than likely, you were just ignoring her. 

"How is she?" The voice catches her off guard, jerking her hand away and wobbling on her ankles. It feels like she's been caught doing something wrong. Caught red-handed showing an ounce of compassion. She couldn't have that. Lottie stands tall, with a watchful eye. The mere sight of her makes her blood begin to boil. She had no right to ask about your well-being while being the direct cause of your worsening state. Shauna stands up. Lottie still looked down on her. 

"You need to fix this." Shauna tries to sound assertive. A step closer to the taller woman, eyes sharp. "Now." 

Lottie's stare is vacant, and yet a few seconds staring into them has Shauna looking away. She wonders what thoughts swirl around her head; surely there's more in there than just the wilderness. "Fix?" She had become a woman of few words these days. Shauna found it awfully annoying. 

"You're the reason she's out here," Shauna states. "She really doesn't need you filling her head with nonsense." 

"It's not nonsense," Lottie replies, stepping to the side. Ignoring Shauna to lay her eyes on you. She fights the urge to step in the way; block you from Lottie's fucked up ideas, and instead turns too. Your eyes are closed, your breathing soft and consistent. You have definitely fallen asleep. Shauna sighs loudly, gritting her teeth. Every conversation she had with Lottie felt like it was designed just to piss her off. Shauna was happy to let Lottie dance around with the spirits, but this wasn't about her. It was about you. 

"I'm so sick of this." Shauna proclaims. She was no stranger to voicing her opinions, but it wasn't going to help in this case. "Can you just- say something to her?"

"It's not for us to decide." Lottie places her hand on Shauna's shoulder. Close enough for her to see the hint of a smile that quirks at her lips. She never should have let you get closer to Lottie. Allowed her to fill your head with her delusions. It seemed like it was helping. That you were having more good days than bad. It wasn't like Shauna was in charge of who you hung out with. At this point, it was basically just anyone but her. She had kept an eye on you, though. She knows you like helping Mari and Akilah. That Tai is usually the one to help when it all gets too much. Lottie seemed to be the poison that would ruin everything. A surge of anger bubbling through her veins, Shauna shoves Lottie away. The other girl stumbles but doesn't quite fall. 

"She'll die out here."

"It's not for us to decide," Lottie repeats. A much more apparent smile as she turns and heads back towards the camp. Shauna watches her for a moment. Trying to let her anger follow the other as she leaves, before her attention falls back onto you. She could try dragging you back. It would likely be so easy, but you would end up hating her more than you probably already do. Did she want that? Did it even really matter in the grand scheme of things? The rest of the girls weren't exactly fond of her either. At least you'd be safer. Ultimately, Shauna takes a seat in the dirt right next to you. Staring down the path she took to get here. You'd always be too stubborn for your own good. Too stupid. You move a little closer to her, and she takes it as confirmation of your unconsciousness. The two of you try to stay pretty separate these days.  She doesn't know what else to do, so she just sits there. Letting you sleep. Listening to the sounds of nature existing all around. The day continues without her. Nobody comes looking for her, or you, for that matter. When you finally begin to stir, she rushes away, a little too aware of the proximity. 

"Shauna?" Your voice is quiet. Laced with sleep. 

"Uh... how are you feeling?" What a dumb question. She just doesn't know what else to say. 

"Cold." It wasn't cold out. It was now firmly midday, and the sun was shining warmly from high in the bright blue sky. It was warm enough for her to still be wearing shorts. Shauna watches you struggle to wrap the fur further around yourself as your body prevents its movement. It's ridiculous, but sort of endearing. The crinkle in your brow as you keep trying unsuccessfully. When you give up on the endeavour, she dares to reach out. Your skin is covered in a very noticeable layer of sweat. 

"You have a fever." That much she knew. "I told you being out here would make you worse." 

"I'm fine," you mumble. It makes Shauna groan as she stands up, brushing herself off. She doesn't know why she bothered waiting around so long.

"Whatever." Shauna looks down at you, watching the way you shiver in the heat before starting to head back to camp. 

"Shauna?" 

"What?" She bites back. Tired. Fed up. 

"Can you bring me more fur?" She debates it in her head before turning away. 

"If you're fine, get it yourself." And with that, she leaves you. Nobody says anything when she gets back. A result of the amount of pity they reserved for her because her girlfriend was dying. Shauna doesn't fight it. She'd rather everyone leave her alone than constantly be on her back about things. The rest of the day is painfully normal. She half expects to see you appear in search of the furs. An occasional glance spared your way, but you don't. She goes to bed like you never asked at all.

Checking on you in the early hours of the morning becomes a part of her routine. She tells herself it's just to make sure you're still alive. Ignores the nagging in her gut that gets just a little bit worse each day. You're always asleep when she arrives, and she doesn't wake you. Doesn't even stick around long enough for you to notice. For anyone to notice. And then one day, you're awake before she arrives. She can hear your strained groans. Sounds like you're in a lot of pain. Each step closer is cautious now. You've been sick. A couple of times, in fact. Whatever food spared for you now in the bucket or seeping into the ground. A little soaking into the fur. What a waste. They were also going to have to clean the fur. How annoying. "Ready to come back, now?" It's a sarcastic comment rather than a genuine question. You moan softly. You're much too weak to fight her on this anymore. She knows she's won. You weren't getting better. She was right. But that doesn't make up for the fact that she basically has to hold all your weight as she hauls you back to camp. It's a relief when she lowers you to the floor of the hut. What was she supposed to do now? Stay with you? It gets her out of chores if she plays the role of the compassionate girlfriend. It wasn't entirely untrue either. Shauna stays until she's sure you've gone back to sleep. She doesn't think you got much last night. It's also the only calm she's had since bringing you back here. The incessant groaning was almost enough for her to put you back outside. The sun is high and bright as she steps out from the shade of the hut. Squinting as she looks up to the sky.

Shauna leaves you alone for as long as she can tolerate. On her return, you're lying across the floor. Snuggled into the fur. At least you weren't sick all over it. That's improvement. A bowl of soup sits to your left. Who brought that? Who was coming in here without permission? It's so bothersome that they don't have doors. It doesn't look like you have even touched it. Shauna sighs softly. "You need to eat." She observes you squirm, shaking your head, which she assumes means no. "You're wasting food." She states. She wants to push further, but doesn't. She takes a seat near your head. You are such a hassle. 

You have settled down by the time night begins to fall. You two have hardly spoken, but that's nothing new. Even on a good day, you are mostly silent. An active attempt at avoiding her. Shauna understands. Everyone understands. She wasn't a good girlfriend. A good person. Right now, though, you could barely move, and as much as Shauna loved her alone time in the woods, it was her hut. It was still going to be her hut after it was no longer yours. "What... do you think they'll do with me?"

She doesn't expect the conversation, but who else would you be talking to? "What?"

"I'm sick, so if they eat me, I'll just get everyone else sick." Shauna feels a dip in her stomach. "So what's the point? It's a wasted death," But the logical part of her brain agrees. You are sick, and eating tainted meat might make them all sick. Shauna had stopped worrying about catching something off you long ago. If it happened, so be it, but actively consuming you seemed different. It could be fine. There is a chance that cooking the meat would rid it of the bacteria but was it worth the risk? Especially when they have more resources now? Shauna's not sure she could do it. The idea of everyone getting a piece of you didn't sit right with her. You were her girlfriend. Her person. Did she even have that claim over you anymore? Her person? What did that even mean? Sure, you were still dating, but you hardly spoke. You didn't spend any more time together than necessary. You barely touched each other. Sounded more like enemies than lovers. Maybe that would make sharing you easier if they decide to eat you? She doubted it. 

"I guess," Shauna shrugs a little. It's amazing how mundane a conversation about eating people could be. Just any other day out here. How would you taste? Would the sickness spoil the flavour? Would her complicated sentiments make a difference? How would it feel to have to butcher her girlfriend?

"I don't wanna die," Your faint voice drags Shauna out of her head. You just sound so... tragic. What was one more death to the wilderness? If she believed in Lottie's spirits, maybe she would call this divine retribution. Fate. Even before crashing out here, she wasn't a good person. What kind of person sleeps with her best friend's boyfriend? Have his baby? She was always destined to lose what little she had. Jackie was simply the start of her punishment. She didn't deserve a best friend. Her baby was next. Something so pure didn't deserve a monster for a mother. And now you. She didn't deserve someone like you. But it wasn't fate. It just was. The world was a cruel place, so she was merely following suit. "I'm... scared, Shauna." Hearing her name made her tense up. A cold chill runs down her spine. She didn't want you to die either, and yet, the admission was caught in her throat. "Shauna?" You were searching for comfort in her, why? She hadn't been able to provide that to you for a while. Seeing you just filled her with a deep sorrow. The kind of sadness that hurts her bones. Makes her anger for the world more justified. You sigh softly, or perhaps it's more ofa cry. Followed by a deep cough that sounds heartbreaking. Serious and disgusting. "I miss you." You continue. She can tell there's more you want to say, but for whatever reason, you don't. Maybe you're too tired? Or scared of her reaction? Either way, all you follow it up with is a pitiful. "...please?" You miss the old Shauna. The weaker Shauna, whom everyone walked all over. Didn't look twice at. You wouldn't call her weak; however, it's true. She knows it's true. It's accurate to her. While she still can't bring herself to say anything, Shauna does shuffle closer. Gently holding up your head so she can place it in her lap. You don't protest. You don't say anything. Shauna isn't sure how much longer you have in the wilderness. It is pretty clear that whatever illness has taken over isn't going away any time soon, and with winter fast approaching, your chances of survival are growing ever slimmer. Her hand comes to rest against your side, trembling under her touch. Staring out into the darkness, she can see the flicker of firelight and faintly hear the others chatting. And you both just sit together silently until it becomes too much for her. 

"Do you hate me?" She asks, half expecting you to have fallen asleep already. She doesn't know why she asked. She's pretty sure she already knows the answer but still it's been swirling around her head a lot recently. She was well aware of how much she had changed. How downright wicked she has become. She didn't necessarily feel sorry for it. Felt entitled to her anger. Yet, she could also understand why everyone eyed her suspiciously. The only thing that confused her was you. Why hadn't you simply broken up with her?

"I... don't know," you answer meekly. "I feel like I should, but I- I don't know if I can."  

Shauna feels a pull inside her chest. A crack in her facade and for a moment, in the cover of night, she allows herself to be that girl again. That girl who got into brown. That girl on a winning soccer team. That girl who was allowed to have a girlfriend who cared about her.

[chrisfroot]

I’m hungry.

and u? 🐝

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

small thing I'd like to add here is that there is no bad fic as long as it's done with love <3

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

fanfic isn't an act of activism by the way. it's a fun hobby. writers write whatever they want for themselves as their silly little getaway/self-care. if you want "more representation" of something in fanfics, then you write fanfics about that thing you want. nobody is stopping you. but saying other fanfic writers as a whole are "the problem" or are "to blame" for "not including xyz" or "not writing about xyz" just isn't how fanfics and hobbies work.

[starg0ld]

[redandpointy]

I wish you would write a fic where...

Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)