#(which does make me wonder.. how are lydia and malia in the same math class? we know beacon hills has ap bio do they not have ap math classe

[skywitchmaja]

malydia are sooo fun because they boldly ask the question “what if too lesbians who were sooo autistic in the exact opposite directions? but what if they’re not actually autistic they’re just Like That because they are a harbinger of death and a girl who spent the last several years of her life as a coyote? but what if still, actually really truly and for real, they were both autistic (in the exact opposite directions)?” and they answer is, of course, “well, that would be awesome”

[ageofevermore]

What Allison Said

summary → in which you love malia, and all you want is to tell allison she was right. 

words → 1.3k

warning(s) → mentions of death, angst

note → yet another entry for @stiles-o-dylan24​ 1k challenge! but like seriously congrats ellie!!

add yourself to my taglist

The sunset was bright over Beacon Hills on the first day of the summer season. School had let out for the long weekend, and finally you had a moment to breathe. The supernatural population had nearly doubled in the time since Allison Argent's death, no thanks to the newly awakened tree stump off in the middle of the preserve. You couldn't complain though. Not when it brought you her.

Malia Tate was a mystery amongst men. For nearly eight years she was stuck between states, mourning the death of her sister and mother and watching her father go through the five stages of unbearable grief and lonesome. You figured if anybody should hate the newly increased supernatural population it should be your girlfriend. The math-hating werecoyote had a lot to be resentful towards, and somehow she managed to move on towards better days.

It was almost covetous. You so fully wished to share that same dismissive trait as your doe-eyed best friend, but it seems that you were always stuck between a breakdown and elation. Beacon Hills had put a damper on high school, that was for sure, but you were still looking forward to spending senior year in a relationship. Malia's company always made for a lively experience.

"Mal." You whispered softly, head tucked into her chest with a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around you both. You didn't care how hot it got to be in California, it was always blanket weather and thankfully Malia never minded. "Malia."

She was dead asleep beneath your weight, arms encased around your torso protectively. It broke your heart to see her so stripped down to the naked eye. She was never one to sleep alone, sneaking into your bedroom window just after midnight like clockwork. Her presence was concealed from your parents by blankets of dark skies, but you knew that they knew about her.

It was hard to hide just how happy Malia made you. Everyone could see it. From the moment you found her in the woods it was like everything inside of you wanted to be beside her. You had been the one to warm her in the car, understanding that the loss of her coat left her vulnerable. It was you who had thrown a fit when you found out that she had been admitted into Eichen House. And, it was you who helped her anchor down the rabid feelings of anger and uncertainty.

Malia was hard to get along with when you didn't know her history. She was dodgy and blunt, and incredibly clingy to anybody who showed her even the smallest fraction of kindness. It came from being on her own for so long. She wanted affection and continuous praise. She wanted unconditional love, and you wanted the same.

Malia loved hard and passionately. She was completely devoted to you from the very first moment. Had you believed in soulmates, you wouldn't argue that Malia was yours. Her arms tightened around you for a moment, then the tip of her cold nose nuzzled into your hairline. She breathed out deeply against your neck, the steady stream of hot air making goosebumps rise on your arms. You had never been so madly in love with another person.

When you weren't with her it felt like you couldn't breathe, and the minutes ticked by so impossibly slow leading up to your reunion. It was everything Allison had described to you and Lydia, but back then you had turned the other cheek and rushed off, writing off the possibility that love like that existed. Well it did, and you wished on all of the stars that you could just tell Allison she was right.

Alone with Malia and the sunset her words echoed back through your memory: just for one second, just try and remember, remember what it feels like. all of those times in school when you see him standing down the hall, and you cannot breathe until you're with him. or those times in class that you can't stop looking at the clock because you know he's standing right out there waiting for you.

When Malia's nose rubbed against your hairline again, you took notice to the unusual restlessness of her features. It startled you when her arms left you abruptly and her eyes opened to flash blue. The control she had gained over shifting was slipping from her fingertips, you could see it on her features.

When her eyes faded back to brown you caught a glimpse of sheer panic. Malia wasn't easily shaken, so your heart broke with wonder of what could have provoked such a strong reaction. When she calmed, and the film over her brown eyes cleared, it was you she looked startled for. A coat of sweat covered her forehead, but still she moved to cup your cheeks and look over you worriedly.

"What are you doing, Mal?" You asked, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes. "Are you okay? You had me worried for a second."

Malia scrunched her nose up, speckles of broken light from the hallway broke across her face and showcased just how deep the worry in her eyes was. You didn't let your mind wonder about who had turned the hallway light on, just turned your attention back to Malia.

"Am I okay? You reek." Malia sniffled the air, wincing visibly when she picked up on the foul smell that had woken her from her sleep. Anxiety. Grief. Loss. Love. It was radiating off you so strongly that the wolf inside her had confused the chemo signals with it's own emotions.

"What?" You frowned, almost certain that you had put on multiple coats of her favorite woodland lotion. After a few weeks of her sneaking in through your window, you learned that the scent of pine and rain gave her a sense of familiarity and comfort.

"You reek. Like, like death." Malia winced, watching you carefully, not missing the way your nose twitched at the confrontation.

"I was just thinking." You promised, eyes welling with tears at the continuous picture of Allison dead and lifeless in Scott's arms. You had outlived a girl raised through the rings of fire.

"About what?" Malia wondered, knowing no boundaries when it came to you. Sure, you both had been working on socially appropriate commentary and reactions, but with you she was safe and allowed to be herself. You just never though Allison would be the center of conversation.

"About how it's torture being human, sometimes i with i could just turn it off. turn it all off." You didn't see the point in lying to a supernatural polygraph, so instead you laid the vague truth on the table for Malia to dissect in her own manor.

"Scott could give you the bite." She frowned, hearing your heartbeat slow at the thought of becoming a werewolf like your best friend. After Jackson, the bite was the least appealing method of ensured life and healing. With your luck, you'd grow a set of scales and kill innocents at numb-minded force.

"That's not what I meant." You sniffled, thankful for Malia's willingness to help even when she just barely had a handle on the whole, emotions, category of teenage life. "I just, I had a friend once. She used to tell me that when you find the right person it's like nothing else matters. I wish I could tell her she was right."

"Well, why can't you?" Malia frowned, the gears turning in her mind as she tried to piece together the strong scents you were secreting and the words you were saying. She briefly understood where your love was coming from, it was for her, and this unnamed friend, but the rest was still a blank page in her mind.

"Because she's dead." You sniffled, the tears finally breaking through your strengths and painting your cheeks like rivers. "She died, and there's so much I wish I could tell her."