[mariistic]

MASTERLIST yellowjackets

𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙

MARI IBARRA

little by little

౨ৎ : after the events of capture the bone: you can't help but care after your friend, if that's what you guys were.

these marks across my neck (tell me im yours)

౨ৎ : A cold night, lingering tension, and the sharp press of teeth—Mari always finds a way to leave her mark.

jealousy

౨ৎ : Mari’s jealousy lingers in every touch, every kiss—she takes her time, claiming you, making sure you remember exactly who you belong to. And it's certainly not to that random bitch you're flirting with.

off script

౨ৎ : As co-stars on a hit TV show, you and Mari share on-screen drama and off-screen teasing. But when the line between acting and reality blurs, maybe some things aren’t just for the cameras.

bitter, bitter girl

౨ৎ : You and Mari have always clashed—until you save her life. Now, she won’t leave your side, and for once, her bitterness feels more like fear.

warm enough (in your embrace)

౨ৎ : in the dead of winter, two girls find fleeting warmth in each other’s arms. With the cold closing in and time running out, what they share might not be enough to survive—but it’s enough to remember.

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

save a horse (ride a cowgirl)

౨ৎ : In a town ruled by reputation, temptation is a dangerous thing. A reckless farmhand, the mayor’s daughter, and a desire that refuses to stay hidden—some lines aren’t meant to be crossed. But Shauna Shipman was never one for the rules.

riding into trouble

౨ৎ : the mayor’s daughter returns to Wiskayok and crosses paths with Shauna Shipman, a no-nonsense, free-spirited cowgirl. Trouble ensues.

reckless hands (and the wildest of nights)

౨ৎ : You've always hated Shauna Shipman. Always. So why the hell does it feel so good when she’s pressing you up against the stable wall?

LOTTIE MATTHEWS

not allowed

౨ৎ : a bottle of wine and Charlotte Matthews: your mom wouldn't be too pleased with this, would she?

i write for all yellowjackets. fyi this is an mdni blog, so i won't write for travis, ben or etc. I also don't write for multiple girls at once! Like a yellowjackets × reader!

[vivisofthevalley]

shauna shipman can NOT keep her hands off Mari Ibarra 🙊🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️💯💯💯 Gay as FUCK to be watching that girl All the time and constantly pinning her Under You!!!!! Just crack!!! Mariana stand UP stop letting that bottom top you!!!💔

[vamplire]

reblog for 2026 to be the most homoerotic year for u

[lullabiesinaglasswilderness]

she exists for women like me

[girl-idi0t]

Twitter saves me again…IM ACTUALLY GAGGED. GOD SHE IS HOT

@chloecoded on X-original creator

SHES SO FUCKING HOT OH MY GOD

[saintsqueensbutchers]

Call me the pit the way I want her inside me

[pissinggooningcrying]

She finna be in the pit(my pit specifically).

[vivisofthevalley]

i love mari ibarra i miss her every single day

[jackietaylorsghost]

oh my god mari I’m so sick about her I’m so upset it’s unreal even having seen this coming the way it happened has knocked me for 6, I honestly think I’m as affected by this death as I was for Jackie’s

[mariistic]

WARM ENOUGH (IN YOUR EMBRACE)

mari ibarra × fem!reader

synopsis: in the dead of winter, two girls find fleeting warmth in each other’s arms. With the cold closing in and time running out, what they share might not be enough to survive—but it’s enough to remember.

warnings: fluff, calm before the storm lol aka before she dies, she isn't dead guys I was kidding, I'm still in denial, tapped into my emotions a little too much

The snow creaks like bones beneath your back, and your whole body aches from the cold—but Mari is pressed against you, her face buried in the hollow between your neck and shoulder, and that’s the only thing keeping you here. Keeping you sane.

Your shelter isn’t a cabin anymore. It’s a half-collapsed tarp pulled over branches, dug into the snow like a shallow grave. It smells like wet wool, rotting meat, and burnt wood from the fire you keep failing to start right. You lost feeling in your toes days ago.

Mari trembles against you constantly. She’s been doing that more and more—shaking like a leaf even when the wind’s not howling. Her fingers are raw. Her lips have split down the middle.

But she’s still Mari.

Sharp-tongued, stubborn Mari. The girl who called everyone a freak the first week out here, who used to braid her hair even after the crash, who kissed you once behind a tree and said, “Don’t fall in love with me. I’ll die before we get out of here.”

She’s always had a little dramatic flair. You never thought she’d be right.

Now she shifts closer to you in the dark, pressing her forehead against your temple, her breath fogging in the cold air.

“You’re warm,” she mumbles, like it’s a prayer or an accusation.

You hum softly. “You always say that.”

“I mean it. You’re like… heat. Even now. Even here.”

You don’t speak right away. You just press your hand to the small of her back, trying to share whatever warmth your body still has left.

“I think about spring sometimes,” you whisper. “Just stupid things. Like wet grass. Sunlight on my legs. Your hair, y'know, not frozen.”

Mari lets out a breathy laugh. “I think about socks. Clean socks for once. And orange juice. The kind with pulp.”

“You hate pulp.”

“I hate pulp,” she agrees. “But I’d drink it now.”

She goes quiet again. Her voice is smaller when she speaks next.

“Do you think anyone’s looking for us anymore?”

You hesitate. Then lie. “Yes.”

Mari doesn’t buy it, but she nods anyway. She turns her face toward yours. Her nose is pink from cold, her eyes shiny and tired.

“You’re the only reason I’m still here,” she says.

The words are so soft they might’ve been stolen by the wind, but you catch them. You hold them close, like fire.

You touch her cheek with your half-numb fingers. “Then don’t go. Not yet.”

Mari leans forward and kisses you. Not desperate. Not rushed. Just real. Cold lips, warm heart. Like she’s trying to freeze time right here in this half-dug shelter before the snow swallows everything.

When she pulls away, her voice is steady. “Promise me something?”

You nod.

“When I’m gone…” Her eyes don’t flinch. “Remember this part. Not the other shit. Not what we did. Just this. You and me.”

You close your eyes, feel the weight of her breath.

“I will.”

And even if you never see spring again, this moment—this one—will stay with you like heat.

[soapyspurnell]

mari's death is affecting me way more than i thought. like she lowk might be my favorite after jackie i miss her so bad

[mariistic]

Came back from the dead to say what the fuck

[teisms]

I know Mari is the comedic relief so we're primed to see her actions as amusing but it broke my heart a little to see her trying to shove the guy's brain back into his head ngl. Sure, it can be interpreted as her being silly, but it can also be her going no no no we had a chance. These people showed up and for five seconds we had a chance of going home. And now this guy's brain is all over the dirt and our chances of being rescued may very well have died with him. So she kneels on the ground next to him and makes this stupid, futile attempt at fixing it, at undoing the past few seconds, at getting a do-over that ends with them all going home. In denial, in thoughtless hope.

Mari Ibarra they will never make me forget you're a scared teen girl like everyone else.

[mariistic]

“MORE MARI” we all chant in unison

BITTER, BITTER GIRL

mari ibarra × fem!reader

synopsis: You and Mari have always clashed—until you save her life. Now, she won’t leave your side, and for once, her bitterness feels more like fear.

warnings: we are soooo back, hurt/comfort, mari being mari, guns, bear attack, took me forevs to get to this ask sorry babe

The woods have always made things worse. Hunger, tempers, the gnawing feeling that nothing will ever be normal again. It twists you, makes you cruel when you don’t mean to be. That’s how it is with Mari—how it’s always been with Mari.

You don’t remember when the two of you started hating each other. Maybe it was back when the plane crashed, when you argued over who would sleep where. Maybe it was when she snapped at you about rationing food, or when you called her a spoiled brat under your breath. Maybe it was just inevitable.

The others are out hunting when it happens. You don’t even think, just move. The bear turns too fast, massive and furious, and Mari is right there. You shove her out of the way, barely registering the force of impact until you're on the ground, sharp pain slicing across your leg. The beast's claws catch you just enough to rip through fabric and skin before Natalie’s gunshot rings out, scaring it off.

“Holy shit,” Mari breathes, her voice sharp with shock. You can’t tell if she’s looking at you or the blood on the snow. Maybe both.

You try to sit up, wincing. “You’re welcome.”

“Are you stupid?” Mari’s voice wavers between anger and—something else.

“You were gonna die,” you say flatly.

“And what? You’d rather it be you?”

It’s so strange, the way she says it, the way her lips tremble just slightly. Mari—sarcastic, sharp-tongued, always-has-a-snide-remark Mari—looks afraid.

You don’t know what to say to that. It feels wrong to argue, to tell her that if it had to be anyone, at least it wasn’t her.

“Come on,” she mutters, suddenly helping you to your feet. Her grip is firm, almost too tight. “Lean on me, dumbass.”

You should tease her. Say something about her finally being nice to you. But you don’t. Because she’s still holding on, even when she doesn’t need to. Because she doesn’t let go, even when you make it back to camp.

Mari’s bitter, bitter girl act has never cracked before. Maybe you just weren’t looking close enough.

[mariistic]

Omg other anon inspired me to request cowboy!shauna smut 👀

RECKLESS HANDS ( AND THE WILDEST OF NIGHTS)

cowgirl!shauna shipman × cowgirl!fem reader

synopsis: You've always hated Shauna Shipman. Always. So why the hell does it feel so good when she’s pressing you up against the stable wall?

warnings: third in a series of fics I didn't expect to blow up, cowgirl!shauna, smut, cunnilingus, ambigous smut

The saloon was thick with smoke, the air humming with laughter and drunken voices. You leaned back in your chair, the weight of your latest poker winnings heavy in your pocket. The night was going well—until the doors swung open hard enough to shake dust from the beams.

Shauna Shipman.

She walked in like she owned the place, shoulders squared, golden-brown hair a little wild from the ride in. Her shirt was open at the collar, just enough to hint at sweat-slick skin beneath. She scanned the room, and when her gaze landed on you, her lips curled into that smirk.

You exhaled sharply through your nose. Here we go.

She stalked over, bootsteps slow and deliberate, before stopping at your table. “You’re in my seat.”

You scoffed. “Didn’t see your name on it, Shipman.”

A muscle in her jaw ticked. “You always gotta be difficult?”

“You always gotta be a pain in my ass?”

That smirk deepened. She leaned down, hands braced on the table, her face just inches from yours. You could smell the lingering whiskey on her breath, see the way her pupils dilated when she looked at you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, voice low enough for only you to hear, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Heat flared in your chest, twisting into something dangerous. You hated how easily she got under your skin, how she always made you feel like you were one wrong move away from snapping.

Maybe that’s why you followed her when she stormed out of the saloon.

Maybe that’s why, the second she stepped into the shadows of the stables, you grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back, pressing her against the wooden beam.

“What the hell is your problem?” you hissed, breath coming faster than it should.

Shauna’s hands were on you in an instant, gripping your belt, pulling you even closer. “You,” she shot back. “Always you.”

You had half a second to process that before she kissed you, rough and demanding, all teeth and heat. It was messy, frantic—like the two of you had been waiting for this without even realizing it.

Your back hit the stable wall as Shauna shoved you against it, her hands slipping under your shirt, fingers trailing over the bare skin of your stomach. She was warm, solid, her body flush against yours as her mouth moved against your neck, biting down just enough to make you gasp.

“Hate you,” she muttered against your skin, but her hands were saying something else entirely as she unbuckled your belt, fingers deft and sure.

“Right back at you,” you managed, though the words came out more like a breathless moan when she pressed her thigh between your legs.

The barn smelled of hay and sweat, the only sounds the distant chirping of crickets and the ragged breaths between you. You didn’t care. Not when Shauna was pushing you harder against the wood, her hands gripping your hips, her mouth moving lower—

You let your head fall back, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, deeper.

You had spent so long fighting her, but right now, in the dark, with her mouth and hands making you forget your own damn name, you realized—maybe this was the only way this could’ve ended.

[enigmaticvariation]

yellowjackets fans who don't fuck with taivan are the weakest links. you all will see two skinny feminine white girls stand next to each other and wax poetic about how much they mean to each other and their beautiful homoerotic longing but the moment there's a canonical lesbian relationship between a black woman and her butch girlfriend suddenly you don't give a fuck. "Oh, but tai cheated on her wife.." THEY EAT PEOPLE!!! THEY'RE ALL MURDERERS!!!! WHY ARE WE POLICING THEIR MORALS SIT DOWN AND ENJOY THE TOXICITY LIKE THE REST OF US!!!

[mariistic]

Lowkey need a full cowboy shauna fic so so bad

RIDING INTO TROUBLE

cowgirl!shauna shipman × martinez!fem reader

synopsis: the mayor’s daughter returns to Wiskayok and crosses paths with Shauna Shipman, a no-nonsense, free-spirited cowgirl. Trouble ensues.

warnings: gay gay, cowgirl!shauna makes a comeback, no smut, small kiss, she's so cute, not a direct continuation of the last shauna fic.

The evening sun dipped low over Wiskayok, casting long shadows across the dry plains. Dust stirred in the air, and the scent of leather and sweat lingered around you like an old friend. You had always felt at home here, on the back of a horse, boots firmly planted in the earth. Your family had deep roots in this place, and you carried the legacy of the land in your blood. The only problem? Wiskayok had always felt a little too small, a little too predictable, but Shauna Shipman—well, she was a different kind of wild.

There was something magnetic about her. Maybe it was the way she rode, effortlessly in control, but with a raw edge that made every movement seem dangerous. Maybe it was the way she never followed anyone’s rules but her own, the way she’d look at you with those piercing eyes as if daring you to challenge her. But most of all, it was the way she made your heart race, even when she wasn’t trying.

You kicked your boots against the ground as you approached the stable, where the sound of hooves echoed softly, mingling with the quiet rustling of the wind. You knew she’d be there, working on the horses. Shauna was always working, always in control.

The low, rhythmic sound of a horse’s trot grew louder, and soon enough, there she was. Shauna, sitting atop her black mare, reins held tightly in her hands, a confident smirk stretched across her face. The setting sun painted her silhouette in warm golden hues, highlighting the sharp lines of her jaw and the way her long hair whipped in the wind.

“Didn’t think I’d see you out here tonight,” you called out, leaning casually against the stable door, crossing your arms over your chest. Your voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—one you knew she’d pick up on. You weren’t shy about your feelings anymore.

Shauna slowed the mare’s pace and brought her to a stop in front of you. She swung one leg off the saddle effortlessly, dismounting with a fluid grace that spoke of years of practice, years of mastering her body in this world.

“Well, look at you,” she said, eyeing your cowboy hat, boots, and the loose-fitting plaid shirt tied around your waist. “I was wonderin’ if you'd ever leave the comfort of those city walls long enough to catch up with me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re not the only one who knows how to ride, Shipman. Don’t forget who’s been working this land longer than you.”

Shauna smirked, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, I know you’ve got the skills. But do you got the grit to keep up with me?” Her voice was low, teasing. She stepped closer, narrowing the space between you both, and you could feel the heat rising off her. It was a challenge, and you weren’t backing down from it.

You stepped forward too, matching her energy. “Why don’t you prove it?”

Shauna’s lips curled into a grin as she stepped even closer, her breath warm against your face. “I think we both know what you’re after.”

There it was—the unspoken truth between you. The tension that had been building ever since you set foot back in this town. You could feel it in every glance, every moment you were close. The pull was undeniable. "Maybe,” you murmured, your heart beating in your chest. “Maybe I want to know if I can keep up.”

Shauna reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, the touch soft but charged with an intensity that made the air feel thick. “You’ll never know unless you try.”

Before you could say anything else, Shauna closed the gap. Her lips met yours in a kiss that was slow at first, almost hesitant, as if she was testing the waters. But that hesitation didn’t last long. The kiss deepened, becoming urgent and heated as both of you gave in to the tension that had been building for so long.

Her hands slid to your back, pulling you closer, and you responded, your fingers tangling in the rough fabric of her shirt as the kiss turned wild. There was no holding back now. You could feel the heat of the moment, the way she matched you step for step. She was fierce, unapologetic, and it drove you crazy in the best way.

You pulled away for a breath, both of you panting, and Shauna’s gaze locked with yours. “Told ya you’d never keep up.”

You grinned, your lips still tingling from her touch. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

With a flash of that signature cocky grin, Shauna stepped back, giving you just enough space to feel the absence of her presence. You wanted more, but for the first time, you didn’t need to chase it. You both knew where this was headed.

“Ready for another round, cowboy?” Shauna asked, her voice dripping with challenge as she mounted her mare again, looking down at you with that same playful smirk.

You straightened up, eyes narrowed with equal parts determination and excitement. “You’re on.”

The ride would be a wild one—just like the way you both lived, unrestrained and free. You wouldn’t hold back, not when she made you feel like this—like anything was possible, and everything was worth the risk.

And as you followed her into the open field, you realized that in this town, on this land, you weren’t just the mayor’s daughter anymore. You were something else. Something free. And with Shauna, you were ready to see how far that freedom could take you.

[brainsforbrains]

Me when the Yellowjackets creators randomly killed off Lottie