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archivingspn · 3 years

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2019: Twitter- Eric Kripke

therealKripke: “In honor of #SPN300, here's my original #SPN pitch from 2004. The pilot story is very different, but the tone always rang clear to me. Could never have imagined what this show became and the good it's done. Humbled and grateful beyond words to you all. #SPNFamily @cw_spn ‘[images of spn pilot’s 4pg script]’“ - 12:08 PM Feb 7, 2019

[source]

Supernatural

Pitch by Eric Kripke August 30, 2004

I. TONE AND WORLD

In one sentence, this is X-FILES meets ROUTE 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty back roads in their trusty 64 Mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night. But much more than that, it's a show about an obsession of mine...

Throughout the U.S., (especially the MIDDLE, where I'm from), we have a folklore, as uniquely American as baseball, as rich and varied as any world mythology, and almost nobody knows it. For instance, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil, at an abandoned Mississippi crossroads, to be the world's greatest guitarist. But he died violently, poisoned at age 26, screaming about Hellhounds as he choked on his own blood. In the shadowy north woods of Minnesota, lives a creature named the Wendigo. Translated from Native American, it means "evil that devours.” It feeds on human flesh. And even today, dozens of witnesses say it's very real.

There are literally HUNDREDS of these stories and legends and urban legends. There are dark and dangerous things out there in the corners of our country. So here's a show that travels the diverse highways and byways of supernatural America. Black woods, ghost towns, those tourist trap mystery spots. Really, a show ABOUT our country-the bloody, beating heart of America.

Unlike X-FILES, this show isn't Vancouver rainy. It's brighter, more colorful, more VISCERAL, and more irreverent. The humor here is extremely important to me—but it has to arise from the characters and their attitudes. The characters can be funny, but the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS SHIT– I'm talking THE RING; how what you don't see is much more terrifying than what you do. I'm talking about making this series as scary as I possibly can, until you guys call and yell at me.

But I also want the tone to be GROUNDED. Where BUFFY, for example, felt HEIGHTENED, our show should feel like OUR WORLD, real-life America. With a darkness that bubbles and boils just beneath the surface. And I want to keep the weekly stories CREDIBLE- leave 'em with a question mark, the possibility of a rational explanation. Something early X-Files did very well.

Finally, I want this show to capture a certain SPIRIT. For one, that youthful electricity of dropping out and hitting the open road; the freedom of wide-open American spaces. But also, EVERY road trip story-from FEAR and LOATHING to Kerouac to The Odyssey, are inherently mythic quests, hero's journeys, real Joseph Campbell stuff. The way STAR WARS, LORD OF THE RINGS, and MATRIX are all the same story, with the same beats. So our series, too, is an epic hero's quest-- across the United States. Almost like a modern western, and our heroes are gunslingers. Or, as I like to call it - it's STAR WARS in TRUCK STOP AMERICA.

II. CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISE

Now, let's get into establishing our characters, and launching our franchise.

So if this is STAR WARS, meet LUKE SKYWALKER. SAM HARRISON, 21. Think Jake Gyllenhall, or Tobey Maguire. Smart, funny, handsome, maybe a little type-A. He just graduated Stanford with a 4.0, and now he's heading back down to L.A., where he lives with his Aunt and Uncle, he'll spend the summer clerking at a powerful law firm. And in the Fall... Harvard Law, thank you very much. Pedal to the metal, Sam is cruising the track to success. But, like all good Luke Skywalker heroes, Sam is vaguely restless. He tells his girlfriend, maybe he should drop everything this summer and blow off to Europe. But of course, he doesn't. He has too many responsibilities.

Sam's well adjusted, successful life, it's a real triumph, especially considering his background. Fifteen years ago, his dad JACK became increasingly dark and depressed. He drank. A lot. Until Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was driving. He lived. Mom didn't. That triggered a schizophrenic breakdown in Dad. He swore that twisted, dark, horrific things caused that crash and took Mom away. And those same dark things were chasing after him. Dad was institutionalized. But he escaped. And disappeared.

Sam is ashamed of his tragic past. Hates his Dad, blames him for killing Mom, and NEVER, EVER talks about it.

Now, Sam's mythic CALL TO ADVENTURE, the events that will change his life forever, begin simply enough. When his big brother DEAN rolls into town. Meet DEAN HARRISON, 25, think Colin Farrel. If Sam's the good kid, Dean's the troublemaker. If Sam's Luke Skywalker, Dean's Han Solo. Charismatic and dangerous. Cocky confidence masking a troubled soul. Sam hated Dad, but Dean was older and remembered Dad in brighter days, and he worshipped the man. Sam buried his past and ignored it, but Dean was haunted by it, never quite got his shit together. Dean never went to college. Just sort of traveled around. In fact, Sam hasn't heard from Dean in almost 3 years, which Sam clearly resents.

And now... Dean makes Sam a proposition. Let me drive you down to L.A.- it's just one day, we'll get a chance to catch up a little. Reluctant, Sam agrees.

At first, they're enjoying the electric, carefree pleasures of a ROAD TRIP. Top down, radio blaring, singing their lungs out to AC/DC.

But then... at twilight... on an empty stretch of highway... Dean's driving. And he has to make a confession. (Though I'm sure we'll break this up into a few different scenes.) "Sam. There's something I need to tell you," Dean says. “I went looking for Dad. And I found him. Took just about every dime I had, but I found him. And I've been with him, for almost 2 years." Sam is shocked and betrayed: "what?! Why didn't you tell me?!" But Dean continues: "listen. I know this is hard to believe. But Dad WASN'T nuts.

Demons really DID kill Mom. Dark, awful things WERE following Dad. I know. Because I can see them. Because they're following me, too."

Obviously, Sam is BEYOND freaked and well aware that schizophrenia is hereditary. Dean goes on, getting worked up-“so Dad figured out how to kill these things, and he showed me how. Until they caught up to us in Baker. They got Dad. Before I got them." "What do you mean, you GOT them?” asks Sam. “I killed a demon. In human form," says Dean. “You killed somebody?!" "No, I killed a DEMON, it only LOOKED human.” (Which could be a scary, visceral teaser, by the way.) Anyway, DEAN continues: “Listen to me, Sam... it was Dad's wish, his DYING WISH, that I find you, that I teach you the way he taught me.” At this point, Sam goes into placating, survival mode. “Okay. Sure. Just calm down." But Sam's terrified-of his own brother.

Meanwhile, as this conversation's going on, Dean isn't going to L.A. He takes a detour-- for all intents and purposes, kidnapping Sam. They pull into a small, faded, all-American town in Central California. It's 1950's American optimism gone to seed. Basically, they pull right into the pilot's SELF ENCLOSED B-STORY. Whatever it is, the story should be simple, giving us room to focus on the brothers. It should be based in Folklore. And it should be personal—the job their father never completed.

Now, here's an example of exactly the kind of story I'm talking about. The real life ghost story of the "Weeping Woman," a sobbing wraith in a bloody white nightgown. She murdered her children by the river side, as revenge against her unfaithful husband. And today, it's said she lures unfaithful men to the river and drowns them. And sure enough, several MEN in this town have turned up dead by the river's edge. Anyway, something like this. And Dean, despite his smart ass jokes and references to the movie Poltergeist, seems to be taking this SERIOUSLY.

But Sam doesn't believe a WORD of it. First moment he's alone, he calls his Aunt and Uncle. “I'm with Dean, I think he's sick.” They tell him—"cops in Baker found your Dad's body. And a truck driver's body, too. Dean's the suspect. You have to get away! Where are you?!” But before Sam can answer-he pivots, right into Dean. Who grabs the phone, SMASHING it, furious: “Dammit, Sam, I'm not insane," Dean says, “Caspar the unfriendly fucker is really out there!"

Then, as Dean delves deeper and deeper into the ghost story, dragging a reluctant Sam along with him... INEXPLICABLE SUPERNATURAL phenomenon begin to occur, which SERIOUSLY RATTLES Sam. We'll have several good, scary set pieces. And soon, Sam doesn't know WHAT to think. And in the B-STORY'S climax, he'll even save Dean at some crucial point. (Though we'll be careful to leave things open ended, with just the possibility of a logical explanation.)

Afterwards, a beat in which Dean, vulnerable, says to his brother-"I've been thinking. And you're going home, Sam. You're smart, and you've got everything going for you. I don't care what Dad said, I can't let you live like this... Still," says Dean, "it was nice having you around. When you're with somebody... you just don't feel as crazy as

often." Sam's very conflicted, and he feels awful, but he can't just abandon his old life. So the brothers part ways. Sam hitchhikes up the road. Meanwhile, thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, the cops have been searching for Sam, and now they find him.

At the station, Sam tells the cops, Dean's in Colorado by now. But a patrol car has spotted Dean's parked Mustang at a nearby motel. The police grab SHOTGUNS, they're going to take Dean with force. And in the face of ONE PASSING COP, Sam sees-a glimpse. A shimmer. Something DEMONIC and INHUMAN flashes across the cop's face-and then it's gone, just as quick. Did Sam imagine it? Is he going insane, too? Or is Dean really in danger? Are dark, awful things really after him, like he said?

This is Sam's crossroads moment. And he makes a decision-he takes off. Steals a car. Beats the cops back to Dean. Warns him at the last minute. It's very TIGHT and very HECTIC, but Sam and Dean get away. Escaping by the skin of their teeth.

As we leave Sam... he doesn't know if he's losing his mind. He doesn't know if Dean's a hero or a homicidal schizophrenic. All he knows is-Dean's his brother, and he needs help. And for now, that's enough.

III. THE SERIES ITSELF

I think the overall GOAL here, is building an engine that gives us SELF ENCLOSED STORIES. I am gonna pitch some very simple mythology, but STAND ALONES are a format I really believe in, they're the shows I loved and grew up on. Like the best EARLY episodes of X-FILES.

So basically, our two heroes, avenging their parents' death, cruise the golden backroads of America-picture chrome diners and bucolic farms and dusty Route 66 towns. Places that are mythic and American, but also haunting, in a way. Places where horror can strike in broad daylight. Sam and Dean are kind of like classic gunslingers, or dragon slayers, finding-and KILLING—the monsters of American folklore.

So first question-how do they find the damn things? Dean tracks these creatures in a low-tech way. He scans obituaries for strange deaths. Dean also has a loose network of contacts - defrocked ministers and trailer park psychics, who impart information to our heroes whenever necessary.

Second question-how do they KILL the damn things? The answer—they have no fucking idea. They're outgunned and desperate and in completely over their heads. They don't have a WATCHER, like in BUFFY. They don't have an OBI WAN. They're on their own. Each week, they gotta figure out what the hell they're dealing with, and how the hell to kill it. And a lot of the time, they're wrong, and they have to improvise. Whether it's finding a ghost's remains - and burning them into dust; or loading a shotgun with silver buckshot, our guys will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

#2019-Feb #2019:February7 #*spn 1x01 #*SMT #Eric Kripke #Twitter #*scripts

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pretend-writer · 5 years

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Moments: Part 2 (Supernatural x Teen Wolf)

Crossover

Summary: After living a hunter life all these years with her parents, Y/N decided to settle down and take on the normal life. Things change when she gets one phone call from an old friend.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader, Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 1375 words

Warning: swearing, angst

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It was hard trying to get over Stiles, at the time I knew he was the love of my life. After being with Dean and Sam, I’ve realized that my life was too complicated for us to even be back together.

Even if Stiles and I couldn’t be together anymore, he was someone that I would always cherish in my heart. He gave me life while I was down, he was someone I dearly loved and I would never forget that.

Time has passed and I’ve moved on to a new chapter in my life. After I’ve finally decided and opened my heart to find someone new, oddly enough Dean was the one.

Nothing was planned nor I’ve even thought of him as more than a friend growing up but something about him just drew me in. Whatever we had after the random kiss one night led us to something more special and I was grateful that our paths crossed again.

Dean kissed me passionately as he laid on top of me with his left hand on my side and he leaned on the other. I giggled between kisses, cupping his cheeks.

‘What’s so funny?’ Dean pulled away and smiled.

'I don’t know, I just thought about the time when we first met.’

He smirked and caressed my cheek, 'Who would of thought we’d end up together?’

'Definitely not me. I always had a crush on Sam when I was a kid.’

'Wow, Y/N. Sammy and not me?’

I giggled, 'You were so mean to me and to your brother. Sam was so kind, gentle, sweet-’

'Yeah, yeah yeah. I did suspect you two had something going on. Dad used to tease you two about being married someday.’

'And look where we are now.’ I smiled and poked his nose.

The door to the motel room swung open as Sam popped in with Chinese take-out in his hand. He quickly closed his eyes, 'Guys really? You knew I was coming right back.’

Dean rolled his eyes and got off the bed. 'Shut up, we’re not even naked.’

'I’m glad because if you two were, my eyes would fall off.’ Sam joked, putting the food down on the table.

Hopping off the bed, I took the stack of papers that was on the shelf. 'Here’s all the research I did for tonight’s case.’

'Surprise you did any after seeing you two being busy in the bed.’ Sam sassed as he took the papers from my hand. 'You know for sure he’s going to show up tonight?’

'Oh yeah. The perv only shows up to nightclubs and the one we’re going tonight it’s the only one he hasn’t been in town.’

Dean pumped his fist up, 'Party time baby!’

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'Can you guys stop dancing together?’ Sam fussed. 'We need to find the shapeshifter.’

'Come on, man. Lighten up.’ Dean tapped his brother’s arm. 'We’re just keeping an eye out and besides, we need to have fun sometime.’

I smiled and took my hand out, 'Aw. He just probably wants someone to dance with. Just dance with me.’

Sam’s cheek turned slightly pink, even in the dark club it was obvious. 'No, I didn’t mean it like that I was ju-’

'It’s okay.’ I held his hand. 'We’ll be right back, Dean.

'You could’ve just found a girl to dance with, why did you have to take mine?’ Dean huffed. 'I need a shot.’

Watching Dean walk away to the bar, I smiled at Sam. 'Show me what you got.’

'Y/N, you know I don’t dance.’

'To be honest, I just got Dean to go for a while so you didn’t have to third wheel.’ I giggled, 'Sorry I always cockblock you and your brother.’

Sam laughed, 'I don’t care about that. I’m glad that Dean found someone that can make him happy.’

'Y/N?’ I heard a voice that sounded familiar but couldn’t quite grasp who it was. I felt a light tug on the back of my shirt.

I turned around and saw a face that I haven’t seen in over three years. 'Stiles?’

'Oh my-’ Stiles smiled widely, reaching out for a hug.

As I hugged him back, all the old memories flooded back. It felt as if I was going to cry, but I did my best to keep the tears in. 'Wow, it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.’

He nodded and then noticed I was with a guy. 'Uhm, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

'No, no. This is Sam, a friend of mine.’

Sam waved his hand at him, greeting him for the first time.

'I’m Stiles, an old friend from college.’

'Nice to meet you.’ Sam smiled, 'I’m going to go look for Dean. You two can catch up.’

Stiles paused, waiting for Sam to walk away. 'How long have you been back in California?’

'We’re just passing by. We’re actually in a middle of a hunt right now.’

'So I’m guessing you’re with him now? Figure you’d give me a call or something when you’re in town.’ Stiles said nervously.

Scratching my head, I bit my lip shyly. 'I’m not with Sam. Actually I’m with his brother, Dean.’

'Oh-’

'I’m sorry, Stiles.’ Seeing disappointment in his eyes made my heart hurt, I didn’t know what to do. 'I’ve held on to you for a long time, I really did but I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to move on.’

He nodded, 'I’m not mad or upset at you Y/N. I’m upset at myself for not trying harder. I should’ve left a call, wrote a letter or something.’

'It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, it wouldn’t worked out either way.’

'Guess we weren’t meant to be, huh.’

I shook my head, 'I guess not.’

'At least you’re happy now, right?’

'Dean is a great guy. He treats me special and he makes me really happy, Stiles.’

Stiles smiled, I could tell he was faking it. 'I’m glad Y/N.’

'Uhm, I should get going. The boys will get mad if I’m off task.’

'Yeah, I understand. I’ll see you around.’

'Good luck with everything.’ I waved goodbye as I saw Stiles walking away into the large crowd.

Hoping that Sam and Dean at least identified the shapeshifter, I went to the bar where I last saw them.

Sam was nowhere to be found but Dean was sitting in the stool, taking shots by himself. I approached him from behind, 'Hey babe.’

Without a word, he acknowledged me by nodding. 'One more shot please.’

'How many is that?’

'Why do you care?’ Dean asked sternly.

'Because we’re in the middle of the hunt.’

He huffed, 'You were busy with your ex but I can’t get a few drinks? Sounds hypocritical.’

That moment was when I realized that Dean was upset because he was jealous. Knowing him since I was a little kid, it was typical Winchester move.

'Stiles and I broke up three years ago, Dean. You know that.’

'Do we have to talk about this?’ Dean looked down his glass as he played with it.

'You don’t have to, but I will.’ I sat down on the stool next to him. 'I loved him back when I was in college but it’s different now. I would’ve never started dating you if I knew I wasn’t ready.’

Dean murmured, 'Or you could’ve started dating me because you were bored.’

'Do you see me as that kind of person? I’ll never do anything to hurt someone intentionally, ever.’

'People change.’

'If I still loved him, I would’ve followed him into the crowd. Instead, I came looking for you because I love you, Dean.’ I placed my hand on his as I reassured him. 'I chose to be with you, not him.’

Dean finally raised his head and made eye contact with me. 'You really mean it?’

'I’ll never lie, especially to you. I love you.’

He smiled and then kissed me, 'Thank you and I love you too.’

With a cheeky grin, Sam popped in between us. ‘Usually, I hate when you two are gushy but this is cute.’

Dean laughed, ‘You want a kiss too Sammy?’

‘Ugh, no!’ Sam pushed his brother’s face away as Dean made a kissy face.

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taglist; @greenarrowhead

#stiles stilinski x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fic #teen wolf fic #teenwolf fic #stiles x reader #dean x reader #supernatural teen wolf crossover #crossover

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the-sweetest-dragon · 4 years

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Things Can Only Get Better - Chapter One

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinksi x OC (Evangeline Monroe)

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: allusions to trauma, me explaining things, anxiety, an extremely slow burn

AN: Hi... I am alive, barely. I honestly don’t know if anyone really wants this, but I’m posting it because @nerdsarebetter told me to <3. This is purely self indulgent but I’m actually kinda proud of it so uh..... yeah. Sorry this isn’t my IT fic but this has been making me really happy so you’re just gonna have to deal with it. Oh, the dots symbolize a change in point of view, just so everyone is aware

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“The wolves in the woods have sharp teeth and long claws, but it’s the wolf inside that will tear you apart.” -Jennifer Donnelly

Mom and I drove through many different states during our drive from Kansas to California. We watched the sun set in New Mexico and the sun rise in Arizona. None of them compared to Kansas, but we’d learn to deal. Mom and I paused to rest when we reached California, since we had been driving for what felt like forever.

The move was necessary; we all needed a bit of a fresh start. We were returning to Mom’s old home, Beacon Hills, where my aunt and cousin still lived. Now, you may be wondering why we were living in Kansas when we could have been living in California the entire time. My parents met at the University of Kansas; she was an art history major and he was a law student. It was instant chemistry and after they were married, they just never saw a reason to leave Kansas. Until Dad got this job offer and decided that we all needed a change of scenery.

Was that partially my fault? Yeah, kinda. Last winter was rough for all of us, and I knew it was one of the reasons Dad accepted this new position. I also knew he wouldn’t ever insinuate that it was fully my fault, even though it definitely was. Mom assured me that Dad wanted this job anyways, and I tried to believe her.

We settled down for the night in a cheap motel just inside the California border. I took the time to relax and update my cousin and Dad about our travels. Dad sent me a picture of the new house, with him smiling in front of it. I couldn’t help but smile; he looked so happy already. Lydia, my cousin, gave me details about the high school that would be starting the day after we arrived. She told me about her life, the classes and teachers we would have, how excited she was to see us.

I knew having Lydia Martin as a cousin would help me find friends, but she was insistent that I would have to have a boyfriend. Now, I wasn’t going to think too hard on that one, especially since I knew that with Lydia around, finding a boyfriend or even a guy that was interested in me would be practically impossible.

Lydia looked a lot like me, in a lot of ways. We shared the same red hair and our faces were very similar. When we were little, people would confuse us for sisters when we would visit her and her parents. The small differences between us weren’t necessarily in looks, but in our personalities. Lydia had always been bossy and confident, and remained that way. I have always been more of a classical bookworm; I would sit alone and read during recess, I never had many friends, and I wasn’t the prettiest. Despite sharing similar faces, Lydia didn’t have to struggle with her weight. I had… issues, that came to a head last winter.

We started the drive back up again early this morning. It was only another two hours in the car and then we were in Beacon Hills. I watched in awe as the city sprawled out in front of us. We drove down several streets, Mom exploring her old home that she would be able to share fully with her family. Soon we were turning onto the street to our house.

As we pull into the driveway for our new house, I can’t help but admire it. Dad had found probably the prettiest house I could have ever imagined. It’s painted a deep blue color, with ivy crawling up the sides. The front porch held an old picnic table and a few boxes from Dad moving a few things in. It’s pushed up against the woods, the tall trees embracing the back half of it.

I pull myself from the leather seats and stretch before getting out of the car. Mom smiles over at me before doing the same. I can see her mind working on how to improve the house, where she can plant her garden and let it blossom. Distracted by the house, I don’t hear another car pull up behind our own.

“Evie!”

At the sound of my name I quickly turn to find Lydia standing near the parked U-HAUL Dad drove up here a day before. I let out an ungodly squeal and run towards her, catching her in a hug before she can tell me to stop. She let out a soft sound of discomfort before I let her go.

“Sorry,” I say with a smile. “Wasn’t expecting you to be here already.” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and readjust my glasses to sit more comfortably on my nose. “Are you here to help me or…?”

Lydia laughs softly and shakes her head, strawberry curls bouncing slightly at the movement. The light caught her green eyes, making them sparkle like emeralds. Not for the first time, I wish I had inherited green eyes instead of my father’s dark brown ones.

“I’m here to tell you about my party that you’re the guest of honor this Friday.” I let out a soft groan; parties were one of my least favorite activities. “No, I will not hear any of that. You are my cousin, you have to be introduced to the public in the grandest way possible. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, ok?” I nod, agreeing silently. Arguing with Lydia was not something I wanted to do, ever. She would win and it’s much easier to just agree with her.

Lydia left with a pat on my arm, leaving us to move in on our own. She stopped to hug my parents before getting into her car and driving back to her own house, in a much more expensive part of town.

Moving all my boxes into the house took longer than I originally expected. By the time I had gotten everything into my new room it was dark outside. Instead of unpacking, I decided to take a short walk into the woods, just to explore a little. The air had turned chilly, so I grabbed a hoodie and changed into more comfortable shoes.

“Don’t forget a flashlight!” Dad says before I head out into the dark. He hands me one with a smile. He was used to me sitting at the edge of the woods at our old house, reading a book against a tree.

As I enter the dark of the woods, I can immediately sense something off. The woods in Kansas never felt like this, never felt so… sinister, like something was watching me. I shake the feeling off, knowing I only felt this way because it was new.

I walk for maybe twenty minutes before I trip on a tree trunk. I wince, hands and knees scraped and bloody from the fall. I wipe the blood from my hands off on my jeans when I hear a howl in the distance. I fix my glasses and tilt my head, making sure I heard it correctly before continuing. The sounds of animals were familiar and not threatening, but it was still spooky. I make it another few feet when I get the sense that something is following me. I check over both shoulders and see nothing but the feeling doesn’t go away. I turn back towards the house and quicken my step, refusing to run quite yet.

The feeling continues and I’m so distracted by it that I trip again. I land hard on my already cut knees, my flashlight disappearing into the brush. Biting my lip so hard, I taste blood, but refusing to let out a sound of pain to alert whatever was following me that I was injured. I fumble, trying to pick it back up when I feel something close around my ankle.

Before I can scream, I’m being dragged backwards, farther into the woods. I try to kick at whatever is holding me, when I feel wickedly sharp teeth latch into the fleshy part of my calf. I scream, both in frustration and pain as I double my efforts to get free. Nothing I do seems to make it let me go. The pain becomes secondary to the panic that fills me. What happens if I can’t get free? Will anyone come to find me? What will be left of me to find? I feel immense anger take over me; I did not come all this way just to be taken out by some anonymous thing. Letting the rage fuel me, I kick my attacker so hard that I hear a bark of pain and the teeth let go. The moment I feel it release my leg I’m up and sprinting back to the house.

I run until I can see the light of the house and I’m out of the woods. I check over my shoulder to see if anything follows me but the only thing I see is darkness. Collapsing on the front porch, the pain finally hits me. The reek of my blood fills the air and the sight of my own blood leaking out of me makes me want to vomit. I press a hand to my calf to check the damage, feeling the bite marks that it left there. A sob escapes me and that's the moment Mom decides to open the door.

“Honey! What’s wrong? Where’d all this blood come from? Are you hurt?” she questions in rapid fire succession. Instead of answering, I break down in tears. Mom pulls me inside where Dad is waiting with a first aid kit. He calmly applies pressure to the bite mark, asking quiet questions about what happened. I give a quick version of the story, including my thought that it was a wolf that bit me. Dad nods but Mom looks like she may argue with me. Thankfully, she doesn’t.

Dad cleans out my various wounds with alcohol and I wince softly. He apologizes and puts bandages on my hands and knees, then wraps my calf in gauze and tapes the edges with medical tape. The wound still bled a little.

“Can you stand?” Dad asks gently. I nod and he pulls me up carefully.

“We should take her to the hospital Danny! She could be seriously injured!” Mom exclaims, her panic evident in her voice. Dad turns a level look at her, one hand resting on her shoulder.

“The marks aren’t deep enough for stitches, Mandy,” he says calmly. “We cleaned them out really well, so there shouldn’t be any infection. We’ll keep an eye on it, okay?” Mom nods, wiping at a tear that had fallen. Dad helps me up the stairs to my bedroom.

After he deposits me into bed, Mom sits down beside me with a glass of water and a few painkillers. She runs a hand over my uninjured leg and smiles at me.

“I remember when I was little, your grandma always warned me to stay out of the woods. She said bad things lingered there.” She sighs, a frown forming on her face. “I never understood the warning, but I do now. Please, don’t go back into those woods. I know you like to read in secluded spots but from now on, the woods are off limits, especially at night. Do you understand Evie?”

“Yes, Mom. I understand.” She nods, a sigh coming from deep within her. “I think it’s for the best anyways. They kind of freak me out. It’s nothing like the woods in Kansas.” Mom laughs softly, shaking her head.

“You got that right kiddo.” She sighs. “Well, try to get some rest babe. Lydia will be here bright and early I’m sure.”

I nod and she gets up off my bed, walking to the door and leaving my room. I drift off sometime around one in the morning, Persephone, my cat, curled up next to me. I, surprisingly, have no dreams, not even with the horrific events of the night plaguing my waking thoughts.

My alarm goes off at six and I groan before getting up. My hands and knees still ache from my falls in the woods, but the bite had stopped bleeding sometime in the night. I would have to get Dad to replace the bandages anyways, just to be safe. I carefully remove the gauze from my calf, checking it out in the mirror before turning on the hot water. The marks themselves weren’t big but they went deep into the muscle of my calf. I take a quick shower and sit patiently on the toilet seat for Dad to rebandage my leg. He does it without complaint, even giving me a smile before patting my thigh and returning to his own morning routine.

I dress quickly, in an outfit I had planned on the drive here. The loose fitting plain pants paired with a white button down, the shirt half tucked in and I unbutton a few buttons then roll up my sleeves past my elbows. I put on a gold locket I got as a present from Nana before leaving Kansas and admire the way in glints in the light. I finish the outfit off with a thick black belt before rushing to do my hair and makeup. I keep my makeup light and pull my short hair into a half ponytail, letting my bangs fall slightly in my eyes before putting my glasses back on. A honk from outside makes me rush to put in earrings and I grab my shoes and bag before rushing out the door to Lydia’s waiting car. I wince as I get into the car, my wounds still aching. Lydia lets out a wolf whistle, admiring my outfit. She’s dressed rather nicely too, though that is her default. Dressing nicely gives her confidence, and Lydia has always had a great sense of style. I smile, showing off my outfit for her, her expert eye noting all the little details and gives me a nod of approval.

“Great first day outfit Evie. It’s almost perfect.” I laugh as I buckle my seat belt, leaning down to roll the cuffs of my pants a few times and slipping on my boots, accidentally flashing my bandage at her. “Woah what happened to your leg?”

I retell my story to her, leaving out some of the scarier details to not freak her out as badly. As I tell her, Lydia’s eyebrows retreat further and further into her hair, her eyes going wide at the mention of feeling like I was being stalked. I show her the bandages on my hands as well, laughing about how clumsy I was right before I was bit.

“That’s so weird. We’ve never had animal attacks before,” she says. After a pause, she continues. “Well, just stay out of the woods, Evie, and we won’t have an issue.” I laugh softly as she turns the ignition and we drive in comfortable silence to school. Once there, she turns to me, her curls moving with her. “So, I’ll introduce you to Jackson when we get inside. I’m sure he’ll love you.” She smiles, giving me confidence. Having Lydia’s vote of confidence meant the world to me.

“I’ll do my best to make a good impression.” I shoot her a lopsided grin, my glasses perched precariously on my nose. Lydia gently pushes them back up and boops my nose before getting out of the car, making me laugh. I unbuckle my seat and grab my bag before doing the same.

I follow her through the main doors of the school, ignoring two boys talking on the sidewalk. One was taller than the other, with fluffy hair and an uneven jaw; I vaguely recognized him. Maybe I had seen him on the street yesterday? The other had a buzzcut and whiskey brown eyes. They’re discussing some body the police found in the woods last night and I feel a surge of panic fill me. My stomach turned sour and I’m suddenly glad I hadn’t eaten yet. That body could have easily been me. It had been found ripped in half, by an animal they thought. Their conversation stops as we walk by.

“Hey Lydia! You look… like you’re going to ignore me,” the buzzcut one says. I turn and shoot him a soft smile in apology and hurry along with Lydia. Poor boy is probably in love with her, like most boys are. Jackson is a real lucky guy if Lydia chose him out of the millions of guys prancing around trying to impress her.

The feeling of panic settles in my gut, and I suddenly remember that I hadn’t stopped to take my medication before leaving the house. All eyes fall on us, making Lydia smile as she struts down the hallway to her locker, but I frown pausing slightly. She definitely didn’t prepare me for this. A boy quickly joins her side and I hurry to catch up, trying to forget about the panic lacing my body. I check my bag for my antidepressants, but realize they aren’t there quickly. I quietly curse, hoping no one heard me as I race to catch up to Lydia before the bell rings.

I bounce on the balls on my feet, a smile flashing across my face at the boy, who I assume is Jackson. His face is handsome but seems to be set in a permanent scowl. He gives me a quick nod and turns back to Lydia. They have a soft conversation right before the bell rings. I wince, the sound too loud in my ears. Lydia gives you a worried look before taking me to the principal's office for a tour.

She leaves me with a smile and a promise to meet me at lunch. I walk in and have a short conversation with the secretary, giving her the files from my old school that I had put in my bag, the one important thing I had remembered to take with me today. The tour is short, mostly going through where my classes were going to be before she drops me off at my English class, where another new girl is being introduced.

“Class, these are our new students Allison Argent and Evangeline Monroe. Please do your best to make them feel welcome.” The other new girl is pretty, with dark curls and pretty dark eyes. I shoot her a smile before heading towards one of the only open seats, coincidentally near the boys from earlier. Allison does the same, sitting behind the one with fluffy hair. I watch as he turns to hand her a pen, a grin plastered on his face. The other one turns to look at me and I catch a whiff of his cologne, which is far too strong for a Wednesday morning.

I gag slightly at the smell and he makes a face at me before turning his attention back to the teacher. God, I had never had such a strong sense of smell before. Maybe I’m coming down with something? Trying to quell the panic before it sets in, I push my glasses back up onto my nose to distract me, and try to concentrate on the lesson and not the awful smell radiating from the boy next to me.

He smelled of the woods and death on top of his strong cologne. Now that I thought about it, so did the other boy. He had the reek of blood lingering on him as well. I’m so focused on the smell that I drop my pen. As I reach for it, so does buzzcut and we hit our heads on each other.

“Ow,” he says rather loudly. I mouth sorry and he hands me my pen, grimacing slightly.

“Stiles, if you have something to share with the class, maybe you should stand up.” The boy, Stiles, shakes his head and the teacher continues with his lesson. I readjust my pony tail and continue to take notes quietly.

The next half of the day passes quickly and soon it’s lunch time. I search for Lydia in the cafeteria and spot her sitting with Jackson, having a heated conversation about something. I pause after getting my food and feel the ache in my leg start to lessen. I smile to myself, happy that it’s started to hurt less. Lydia spots me and waves me over to her table, where the other new girl, Allison, is also sitting. I walk over quickly and sit down next to Lydia.

“Evie, please help me convince Allison that she has to come to our party.” I make eye contact with Allison, who shakes her head slightly, making me laugh slightly. “She says she has a family thing but we all know that’s a load of bull.”

“If she doesn’t want to come, that’s her business Lydia.” I smile and extend my hand to Allison. “I’m Evie by the way, Lydia’s cousin. You just moved here right?” She nods and the conversation flows easily after that. We compare schedules and find out that we share three classes with each other in the afternoon: PE, chemistry, and math.

Apparently, PE is used as an extra practice for the lacrosse team, which I won’t complain about. I hate mandatory physical exertion. However, as Lydia explains the game to Allison and I, I’m lost within five minutes and Allison seems just as confused as I am. Lydia gives us all the details on the guys on the team, mostly in relation to which ones she thinks we should date. She completely skips over 24 and 11, deeming them undateable by not mentioning them. Allison and I share a look, already wondering who the two could be.

“Who’s number eleven?” Allison asks. I raise an eyebrow, turning to Lydia to hear her answer. Lydia purses her lips, an unreadable expression on her face.

“I’m not sure,” she says after a slight pause. “A freshman maybe?” I laugh softly, shaking my head. It’s just like my cousin to not know the boys that don’t catch her eye. We watch both boys take off their helmets to get a drink and their identities are revealed quickly.

“Oh, it’s those boys from English class,” I say with a flick of my hand. Lydia laughs, Allison joining in soon after but quieter. I lean forward, balancing my chin on my hand. “They’re kinda cute, in a nerdy kind of way.” Allison nods and Lydia’s face pulls into a frown.

“Out of all the guys, you think they’re cute? Them? Seriously?” The confusion on her face makes me want to laugh, though I refrain from doing so. “Evie, I can understand. The boys at your old school were atrocious to look at, all weak jawlines and colorless eyes. Not sure about you Allison, but you have to have better taste than that. You’ve been all around, surely there’s better guys than those two?” I shrug, turning my attention back to the boys running on the field.

“It’s not just about looks Lydia, it's about personality. I much prefer someone with a sense of humor over someone with perfect cheekbones,” Allison says with a smile. I nod, agreeing. I notice how she watches McCall and already I know she’s interested in him.

“Personally, I don’t really care about gender either. If they have a good personality, what should it matter what they look like?” I say. Lydia just shakes her head and turns her attention back to the field to watch Jackson practice. I nudge Allison and lean in close to whisper in her ear. “That got her to shut up, huh?”

Allison laughs and bumps me with her shoulder. The rest of the period passes in relative silence. At one point, I pull out a book and start reading, the pages fluttering in the slight breeze. McCall apparently has improved immensely over the summer according to Coach. However, every time the ball was caught a shiver ran up my spine at the sound. It hurt my ears to hear, like nails on a chalkboard but not nearly as bad. It got to the point that the sound was making my head throb in pain. I rub my temple and dig through my bag until I find the bottle of ibuprofen I had stashed in there. I take three and take a swig of water out of Lydia’s bottle. I pat her leg before going inside at the sound of the bell.

“See you after school?”

She nods, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. I grab my bag and hurry to my next class. The rest of the day passes quickly and I meet Lydia back at her car. Jackson and her are making out quite ferociously on her side of the car, making me roll my eyes. I sigh and go to find another ride. Maybe Allison could give me a ride.

As I walk back towards the school, I get body slammed by some guy, sending me tumbling to the ground. My books fly everywhere and the other person makes a loud sound of pain.

“I am so sor- oh it’s you.” The guy sighs, and overs a hand to help me up. “You really need to learn to watch where you’re going.” It’s the guy from English, Stiles I believe, that I had bonked heads with earlier. He hauls me up to my feet and picks up my sprawled books while I dust myself off. The cuts on my knees are screaming, but the pain is quick to fade after a few seconds.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile, happy to reconcile. I hold out a hand. “I’m Evie, by the way. Stiles, right? I’m really sorry about earlier.” The boy blinks in surprise, not used to female attention. He takes my hand and shakes it. I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, taking my bag back from him. Stiles looks over my shoulder, realizing without me saying anything why I was walking away from Lydia’s car. “Would you mind giving me a lift home? My ride’s kinda busy.” He gets a funny grin on his face before nodding.

I follow him back to his car, an older Jeep that I instantly fall in love with. Jeeps have always been my favorite car, and I was saving up for one before… well, before last winter. I can feel my face breaking trying to contain my smile. Stiles raises an eyebrow and opens my door for me. The inside of the Jeep is messy, as if he kind of lives in it.

“So, Evie. How’re you related to Lydia?” he asks as I climb into the car. I throw my bag in the back and buckle my seat belt.

“She’s my cousin, our mothers are sisters. I just moved here from Kansas.” Stiles frowns, as if Kansas is an insult to him personally. He turns the ignition and we drive silently after I give him my address. I wince only once, when we hit a pothole in the road that reminds me that my calf is not ok. I lean down to check the bandage, but there’s no new blood. Stiles looks over at me at that moment.

“What happened there?” he asks.

“Oh, I got bit by some animal last night in the woods,” I say with a wave of my hand, like it’s no big deal that I probably should have gotten a rabies shot. He slams the brakes, shooting me forwards in my seat and hitting my head on his dash. “Ow!” I rub my forehead, with an indignant look on my face. “What is your obsession with hurting me today?” He turns towards me quickly, one arm flinging itself over the back of my seat.

“You got bit in the woods last night?” he asks.

“Yes, what part of that did you not understand?”

“My friend Scott was bit last night too! Why were you in the woods? Did you hear about the body that was found?” he says in rapid fire. “I wonder if it was the same animal… Can I see the bite?” My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion but show him the wound only to discover that it has fully healed. His eyes go wide and I hear him mutter, “oh fuck.”

“I - I don’t understand. It was bloody this morning…” Stiles looks panicked, and honestly I’m on the precipice of a panic attack myself. “I promise! I had to change the bandage this morning because it had bled through the first one. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“I don’t understand then. You don’t even have a scar.” I sigh and lean my head onto the dash. Could this day get any weirder? Stiles sits up straighter in his seat, as if an idea came over him. “Have you been having hearing and light sensitivity? Scott said earlier that the lights were hurting his eyes and that he had heard someone’s phone call from outside.” I nod, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I’ve also had a sensitivity to certain smells. Like earlier, you smelled awful.” A hurt look crosses his face, and I try to quickly amend. “You smell fine now, but earlier you reeked of death…” I pause. “Maybe that was Scott. I apologize for saying you smelled bad.” He shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

“You’re forgiven.” The smile falls when he realizes how close the symptoms were to each other. To be honest, it was kind of freaking me out as well. Before I know it, the Jeep is in motion again but the opposite way from my house.

“Where are we going?”

“My house, we need to do some research.” At the word research, a smile floods my face, despite the panic still racing through me. I adore research. Stiles turns to me, a frown on his face. “We have to figure this out. You and Scott could be in serious trouble if we don’t find out what the hell is going on.”

……………………………………………………………………………………..

We researched for hours, her chair pulled directly next to mine as we poured over any information on werewolves and the supernatural that we could find. Every once in a while I would look over at her, still astounded by how much she looked like Lydia. They could almost be twins, if you didn’t look too long at them. Evie must have gotten her dad’s eyes because they were a deep brown, darker than even Scott’s eyes, while Lydia had green eyes that reminded me of spring grass.

Everytime Evie scooted her chair closer to mine, I moved away slightly. Not because I didn’t like her, but because she kind of scared me, and not in a fun way. If she and Scott are what I think they are, they could be really dangerous. As we collected evidence, the more worried Evie became. I watched as her eyebrows scrunched together with every new piece of information.

“So, if I am a werewolf, when’s the next full moon?” she asks suddenly. I do a quick search and look back at her, finding that her eyes had gone wide, the pupil completely taking over the brown in her eyes. The next full moon was this Friday, coincidentally the same night as Lydia’s party. “Oh this is bad… this is very, very bad.”

“Why? It won’t be that hard to just not go.” She shakes her head, running her fingers through her already messed up hair. It had come down from her small ponytail about an hour into our research.

“The whole reason she’s even having a party is because of me. It’s my introduction into Beacon Hills.” Evie sighs, tugging on her hair once more, as if it was a nervous tick that she couldn’t control. “She’ll be pissed if I don’t show up.” She turns to me, worry shining in her eyes. “I’m a pretty calm person. Do you think I’d be ok?”

I pondered the question. Evie did seem pretty laid back and generally pretty calm. I didn’t know her that well, but if the hours we had spent pouring over information wasn’t an indicator of how calm she was, I didn’t know what would be. But with all the information we had found, I wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay calm, especially in a party setting. The lights, the music, the drinking. It was a lot to handle, even for a normal person.

“I have more confidence in you than I do Scott, but I still don’t think it would be a good idea.” She nods, a sad look crossing her face and I instantly feel bad. I lay a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. Then, an idea pops into my head. “What if I went with you to the party?” She raised an eyebrow.

“As what, my date?” I blink a few times, not having considered the possibility that people would think we could be dating.

“I mean, it would be easier to explain than the actual reason. And, I don’t think I’d be invited unless you personally invited me anyways,” I say. Evie considers it for a moment, thinking through all the possible scenarios and how it could go wrong if she didn’t have someone with her to calm her down if the change was too powerful. “Before you decide, I really should call Scott and tell him about what we’ve found. I don’t think he’ll be as accepting of this fate as you are.” She nods.

“Do I need to find a ride home or do I need to be a part of this? What would you like me to do?” she asks and I balk at the question. I had just assumed she’d stay, not really understanding that she may need to go home to her family. It was weird how comfortable I was around her already, despite our rocky start. I consider her question for a moment, before deciding Scott would probably be more willing to hear it from a stranger than me.

“I think you staying would be a good idea. Scott isn’t the most perceptive guy, usually needs a helping hand to understand things. Maybe if you’re here to help me explain, he’ll be more apt to not do something stupid.” She laughs, a bright happy sound. I notice that we haven’t eaten yet, and it’s getting to be kinda late. “Hey, I’m going to go call Scott and then order a pizza, anything in particular you want?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t say something dumb like pineapple. She taps her chin, considering all the options.

“Do they have meat lovers?” she asks. I nod and go off to take care of my calls, leaving her in my room alone. The one to Scott goes immediately to voicemail, as usual. Placing the order to the pizza parlor was a lot easier and quicker than I thought it would be, considering the time. I walk back into my room, only to find that Evie has made herself comfortable on my bed and is doing homework. She looks up and says, “What? I have math homework.” I just shake my head, a small smile on my face.

We work on our homework in relative silence, Evie only talking when she has a question about a math problem. The pizza arrives and I finally get a hold of Scott, who’s at my house in less than ten minutes. The call was filled with him gushing about asking Allison to the party on Friday, though I’m not sure how he pulled that off. He’s at my house in less than ten minutes, a knock at the door announcing his presence.

I watch Evie shake out her shoulders, as if preparing herself for battle. She’s not entirely wrong. Opening the door for Scott and ushering him in takes all of five seconds and he’s heading up to my room before the door is even shut. I hurry after him, only for me to run into his back. Hard. He had paused in the doorway, blocking me from entering.

“OW! Dude you can’t just stop in the middle of a doorway!” Scott turns to look at me, a confused look on his face.

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting you to have a girl in your room!” I snort, a bit impressed with myself at the realization that I did have a girl in my room, and push past him into my room, where Evie is sitting cross legged on my bed. She waves, a piece of pizza in hand. Scott looks back at me with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. I huff out a sigh, already knowing what he’s thinking.

“It’s not what it looks like… I mean, it may look like what it looks like, depending on what you think it looks like but it’s not…” I drift off, earning a snort from Evie. I glare at her, but she just shrugs and nervously starts picking at her eyebrows. “Not helping.”

“So what’s she doing here then? Is this a date? Am I interrupting or…?” Scott asks. Evie just laughs, shaking her head. I glare at her again, she’s really not helping my case at all.

“No, you’re not interrupting, but we do have some things to share with you,” she says. She meets Scott’s eyes, not an ounce of fear in her body. “We have the same problem. Both of us were bit by an animal last night in the woods that half a dead body was found in. I can’t be sure that it was the same animal, but my bite has disappeared, and I’m assuming yours has as well.” Scott looks at me, confusion written plainly on his face.

Evie just sighs, already distraught. “We’re werewolves. The light and sound sensitivity, the heightened smell, the quick healing. All signs point to lycanthropy.” Her eyes drop to her hands, which had moved from messing with her eyebrow to messing with the ends of her pant leg. With a sigh, she pulls the pant leg up, showing Scott where her bite mark had been. Evie runs a finger over it, as if checking to see if there was anything left of the wound. “This morning I was bleeding and now there isn’t even a scar. I know it’s a lot to take in but we have to be careful from now on. We’re dangerous,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Scott looks at me, and I nod, confirming what she had said. He shakes his head, either not believing it or not wanting to believe it. I open my mouth to explain more, but he’s out the door before the time the words can form. I exchange a look with Evie and hurry after him, hoping to catch him before he goes completely loco. I catch up, winded and with a racing heart.

“Dude, you have to believe us. This isn’t some prank. You have to be careful, especially on Friday.” Scott turns quickly to look at me, making me backpedal a few feet so I don’t get run over, again. Confusion is written plainly on his face. I mentally kick myself; of course Scott wouldn’t know what Friday meant in werewolf terms.

“Why? What happens Friday?” he asks.

“Friday’s the full moon, man. That’s when your bloodlust will be at its strongest. You won’t be able to control yourself, especially around Allison.” His eyes flash yellow, something I hadn’t seen Evie’s do yet. I don’t back down, even though I really should have. Anger radiates from him, and I put my hands up in surrender. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you gotta believe me. I’ve seen the way Allison affects you, it’ll be easy to lose control, especially at the party. You have to cancel.”

“I can’t do that! This may be my one shot with her! Nothing will get in the way of that!” he yells. I stop, not used to being yelled at by Scott. He turns away from me, returning to his fast pace and I let him leave. Knowing he won’t come back, I turn back towards my house

Once inside, I raced up the stairs to see that Evie was packing up her homework, her back turned towards me. She turns when she hears me at the door, a sad smile on her face. Evie tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and pushes her glasses up her nose before speaking.

“So, he took that rather well huh?” I let out a strangled laugh and collapsed on my bed. I feel, rather than see, her sit down beside me. “Hey, if nothing else we’ll know where he’ll be Friday. We can keep an eye on him.” She smiles down at me and I smile back, before a thought hits me.

“We should have told Scott that we were dating. Would have made Friday so much easier.” She snorts, flopping back on the bed.

“May have made it easier, but I have a feeling he’s going to ignore us like the plague.” She sits back up with a huff. “Well, I guess you better get me home. I had told my parents that I was studying with a friend but after last night it wouldn’t surprise me if they gave me a tighter curfew.” With a groan, I sit up as well. It was well past ten, we had been here for at least seven hours.

The drive to her house was quick and mostly silent. I could tell that all of this weighed heavily on Evie; her shoulders had drooped and her eyes were dull. As I pull into her driveway, she turns towards me, putting a hand on my arm and squeezing lightly.

“My dad is standing outside. He’s going to say some really dumb things,” she says. I nod, not fully understanding but agreeing nonetheless. “Pick me up tomorrow morning? I don’t know if Lydia planned to pick me up or not and I’m not allowed to drive.” I scrunch my eyebrows together, confused. Evie just shrugs. “I’m not… a safe driver.”

I hop out to help her out, still pretending her leg hurt even though it had healed over. I grab her bag for her, a tight smile pulling across her face. Handing it to her, I look towards where her father lingered on the porch. I wave and he starts coming closer to say hi, I guess. Evie stands there nervously, unsure to how her father will react. He meets us at the Jeep and we shake hands. I make sure to keep a smile on my face, though his grip feels like he’s going to break my knuckles.

“Thanks for bringin’ her home, it’s much appreciated.” I nod, trying to seem as non threatening as possible. He claps me on the back. “Now then, was this a date or just studying?”

“Dad!” Evie exclaims. Her dad just holds his hands up in surrender and smiles at his daughter. “No, it wasn’t a date. Stiles was helping me with math, right Stiles?” I gulp and force a smile.

“Yes sir, just math.” Evie smiles at me before pushing her dads towards the house.

“See you tomorrow!” she calls over her shoulder, her dad’s laugher catching on the wind. I smile as I get back into the Jeep. Maybe, just maybe, this will all work out okay.

………………………………………………………………………………………

My sleep that night was less than restful. I had dreams where I had claws and fangs and I ran through the woods naked. I woke up to my mom yelling my name from downstairs. I groan, dragging myself out of bed to get dressed quickly. I pull on a patterned green sweater with a black skirt and grab my boots from downstairs, not bothering with makeup or trying to make my hair look better. I ran my fingers through it and called it a day. Grabbing a granola bar and my bag, I was out the door and hurtling for my ride within ten minutes. I skid to a stop when I see not only Lydia’s car, but also Stiles’ Jeep waiting for me.

“Well this won’t end well,” I say under my breath. Lydia gets out of her car and reaches me first, a confused look on her face. I smile at her, hoping that she won’t be angry.

“What is he doing here? I thought I was your ride to school!” she says with a stomp of her foot. I look over her shoulder and make eye contact with Stiles, hoping he understands that he needs to get his ass out of the car now.

“He gave me a lift yesterday,,” I say as Stiles hops out of the Jeep and rushes towards us. “Stiles offered to pick me up today, since I hadn’t heard from you.” I smile apologetically at my cousin, watching her eyes narrow at the two of us. Stiles throws an arm over my shoulders, giving me a small smile. Something must click for Lydia because her face quickly changes.

“I said to get a guy on the lacrosse team!” she exclaims, surprising me slightly.

“You play lacrosse right?” I ask, actually unsure if I had dreamed that part of the day or not. He looks back and forth from Lydia to me before nodding. I turn back to Lydia, a smile on my face. “You never said that he had to play, just that he had to be on the lacrosse team.”

“Be careful with my cousin,” she says before getting into her car and speeding off.

“Let’s get going.” Stiles opens my door for me, yet again. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to do that.” He just shrugs and I get into the car with a sigh. The ride to school was relatively quiet, mostly filled with our combined anxious sounds. Stiles wouldn’t stop drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“So, how are we planning to make people think we’re going out?” he asks. I sigh, a headache already forming.

“Lydia already assumes we either hooked up or something. She’ll spread that like wildfire. We won’t have to do anything,” I say softly, pulling at my eyebrows in nervousness. Stiles just nods and opens my door for me, yet again. We walk into school together and immediately people start staring. Stiles and I hurry towards English, with moments to spare.

The stares don’t stop there. I’m not sure if it’s out of confusion or jealousy, but either way I’m not a fan. It follows me the entire day, only stopping when I get to lunch and a different scandal has happened, taking the heat from Stiles and I.

After grabbing my tray, I search for his shaved head, already deciding that I would rather sit with him and Scott than deal with Lydia’s angry eyes that had been following me all day. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long. Almost instantly, Lydia is there, Jackson and Allison in tow. Jackson plops down, a scowl on his face. I really don’t get a good vibe from him, but that’s a conversation for another day.

“We are going shopping after school today,” Lydia states. I make eye contact with Allison, who was sitting very closely to Scott. I raise an eyebrow at her, somehow already knowing that she won’t want to go.

“Is there a reason why?” I ask. Lydia flips her hair over one shoulder, hitting Stiles in the face. I hold in a laugh, knowing that would set her off. Allison shakes her head at me, desperate to get out of this endeavor. I turn towards Lydia, a frown settling on my face.

“You both need new outfits for the party,” she states matter of factly. I sigh, already knowing we won’t win this argument. “Evie’s closet is totally void of any party clothes and I know Allison’s is pretty much the same.” Lydia pointedly looks at both Scott and Stiles. “Since my friends refuse to find acceptable dates, everyone’s outfits will have to be perfect. Especially you, Biles.”

“It’s actually…” he starts, then Lydia glares at him. “You know what, Biles is fine.” I laugh softly, gaining a frown from Stiles.

“If I agree, do I get to pick out my own dress?” Allison asks. I shake my head, already knowing the answer. Lydia would not relinquish that particular thing. If she couldn’t pick our dates, she sure as hell would pick what we wore.

“Of course not, I already have them picked out. We just have to go pick them up.” Allison and I make eye contact, shrugging. What could go wrong? It was just shopping.

The shopping actually didn’t take too long. She really had picked the outfits out already. Lydia refused to let us see them, but insisted they would fit perfectly. I hated to doubt her, but I was pretty sure she didn’t quite understand I wasn’t a size four. So, I made sure to check at least the size of the dress was correct. Shockingly, it was and I was insanely grateful that she hadn’t tried to stuff me into something too small.

We dropped Allison off first, her house not too far from my own but much larger. Her family must have money out the ass to afford it. After exchanging goodbyes (and numbers since I had basically no one's information), Allison hops out and leaves Lydia and I alone in the car. I decide to take the plunge and apologize for this morning.

“I didn’t mean to upset you this morning. I didn’t know you’d show up to give me a ride,” I say softly. Lydia shakes her head, waving a hand to dispel any hard feelings.

“I was more confused than upset. I wasn’t expecting you to get a guy so fast.” She nudges me with her shoulder, getting me to laugh. “While I still don’t get why him, I won’t question your choice too much, as long as he keeps you happy. You deserve to be happy after everything.” I smile sadly and she grabs my hand, squeezing twice. I grab all my stuff from the backseat and head inside.

I work on homework for a few hours and take a break to answer texts and eat dinner. Around ten, I hear my phone ring and Stiles' name pops up on my phone. I answer, a smile on my face.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask quietly, fully aware of my parents sleeping in the room over from my own. I close my door, hoping that keeps the noise to a minimum.

“I have a lot to talk about, are you home?” I furrow my brows. His voice is echoey and filled with anxiety, making me wonder what he’s found.

“Yeah…” I say cautiously.

“Okay, great! I’ll be there in a few.”

I wait for a few minutes and then I hear rocks hitting my window. I open it, seeing Stiles standing not too far away with a handful of pebbles. Racing downstairs, I let him in and hold a finger to my mouth to signal that he would have to be quiet. We’re up the stairs in record time and I softly shut my bedroom door behind us. I watch Stiles take in the mess that is my room, and I rush around to pick it up a little to make it look less like I just moved in, even though I had. Stiles watches me with a grin on his face, all anxiety from the call dissipating from his face.

“So, what happened?” I ask, keeping my voice low. He takes a deep breath, readying himself before launching into his story.

“Me and Scott were in the woods, trying to find the other half of the body that was found because he said he saw it before he got bit. We didn’t find the body, but we did see Derek Hale, who was being extra spooky in the woods for apparently no reason and-” I hold my hand up for him to pause and he stops mid sentence.

“Hold up. Who’s Derek Hale?” I ask.

“Oh, I totally forgot you just moved here. Of course you don’t know. Duh Stiles.” He hits himself on the head, making me laugh a little. “Six years ago there was a fire at the Hale house, and lots of the family died. Only a few survived, one of which being Derek. Everyone thought he left after the fire, but apparently he’s come back.” I nod, now somewhat caught up. “Anyways, he was in the woods being creepy and threw Scott’s inhaler back to him. We think he may be behind the murder and you guys being bitten but we aren’t sure and have no definite proof.” At the mention of the bite, I start to pace. Stiles sits on my bed, picking at my bed spread.

“So, if he’s the one that bit both me and Scott, what does that mean? Is he the alpha?” I ask. Stiles shrugs, unsure. He seems to be more occupied with looking around my room. I sigh, deciding to sit down next to him, forgetting that I was already in my pajamas. With a boy in my room. The urge to pull the blanket over my head was getting stronger by the minute. Lydia would skin me alive when she found out that I had Stiles in my room and didn’t make out with him. I laugh softly and turn myself towards him.

“What?” he asks, his whiskey brown eyes searching my face. I just smile, knowing he may not like my answer.

“Lydia will be so disappointed in me,” I say with a sigh. His eyebrows furrowed together, making me laugh again. “I have a boy in my room, with no intentions to make out with him.” He laughs, shaking his head. I pat his knee. “Well, anything else you need to tell me?” I ask.

“How’re you doing, with all of this?” he asks. I sigh, running my fingers through my hair, contemplating how much to share. This was just one more problem in my life that couldn’t be fixed, and I had a lot of practice with such things so I wasn’t nearly as freaked out as someone else would be. I settle for a nicer version of the truth, knowing that while I felt comfortable around Stiles, he didn’t need to know all the dirty details of my life right now.

“To be honest, not well. Every little sound is amplified tenfold and certain smells make me want to vomit. Heightened senses are not the superpower I wanted,” I say with a slight smile.

“You’re handling it all really well, a lot better than Scott is. You just seem so…” he pauses, searching for the right word. I raise an eyebrow as he settles on the word that everyone uses to describe me. “Calm. If I were you, I’d be freaking out.” I shrug, stretching my legs out on my bed.

“My constant state is freaking out. I was diagnosed with anxiety in middle school and I take antidepressants that even me out a lot. I haven’t had an attack since last year,” I say, hoping he won’t ask me to elaborate. Thankfully, he does not. Stiles just nods, as if understanding without me having to say anything. “This whole werewolf thing may be good for me, maybe the healing factor will seep into my brain and repair the pathways that make me anxious.” He laughs.

“Well, it did fix Scott’s asthma.” He pauses, pondering something. “Have you tested the extent of your reflexes? Scott got weirdly good at lacrosse right after he got bit, catching every ball that was thrown at him. I wonder if yours have gotten better too.” I shrug, unsure if I really wanted to know or not. I was never good at sports before, what would be the point in trying out for them now?

“I’m not really an athletic person,” I say, gesturing towards my body. Stiles rolls his eyes, a funny look on his face.

“Oh please. Every time I turned around today some new guy was staring at you. Every guy on the team thinks you’re an absolute babe,” he states. The compliment catches me off guard, though not totally unwelcome. It had been a long time since someone noticed the way I looked, without being creepy about it. Stiles pats my bare thigh, not noticing the way I tense up as he does so, and stands up. “Well, I’d better get going before your dad threatens to kill me.” I laugh, shaking my head. “See you bright and early tomorrow morning?”

“Sure thing,” I say with a smile. He starts to walk out, but pauses in the doorway. Stiles turns to look at me, a weird glint in his eyes.

“Oh, and by the way. I meant what I said. You’re a total knockout.” He leaves with a smirk, my mouth hanging open like a fish. I stay like that for a good amount of time, trying to decipher if he was flirting or just being nice.

It takes a while, but I finally settle myself down enough to sleep and for once, I don’t have any nightmares or dreams.

I woke up on time for a change and took time to look nice. I showered, removing the bandage and deciding that I wouldn’t put another on. The people who knew wouldn’t notice and it was a waste of gauze. I select a cream colored button down sweater, a pair of brown trousers, and a pair of ballet flats. I curl my hair a little and add minimal makeup along with my necklace and a few rings. Shockingly, I even have time to eat an actual breakfast before I hear the Jeep pull into the drive.

I kiss my mom’s cheek on the way out, grabbing my bag and heading out. Stiles opens my door for me and I smile up at him. We chat on the way to school about nothing in particular and our day goes much the same way as yesterday. We eat lunch together, Allison and Lydia joining us once again. Jackson is there too, but he doesn’t talk much; he mostly just glares and looks moody. I sincerely don’t know what Lydia sees in him, I can’t detect any sort of a personality coming from him.

Lydia drives me home after school, our conversation filled with talk of the party. She seemed confident in my abilities to get there myself, not offering me a ride or anything. Getting ready by myself feels like a monumental task, especially since tonight was not only the party but also the full moon. My first full moon as a werewolf, and I was going to a party. Honestly, how dumb am I?

I pick nervously at my cuticles as I pull the outfit we decided on out of it’s bag. I let out a soft gasp; Lydia had picked out a deep green dress with a corset-esque bodice and long lace sleeves. It was short and made of a satin material, which would hug my curves nicely without feeling clingy. If I was being honest, the dress kind of scared me. I’m not used to showing so much skin, especially since I would be in front of so many people.

I slip the dress on, skipping looking in the mirror just yet and heading towards the bathroom to do a more dramatic makeup look. My version of dramatic is just a heavier blush and a slight winged liner. I refresh my curls from this morning, making a few frame my face. I also make sure I put in contacts, though I have noticed my eyesight getting better. I slap on a little lip gloss and hurry to put on the heels that Lydia had chosen.

Remembering that tonight may not go so well, I pack a small bag with extra comfortable clothes, just in case I wolf out and end up naked somewhere. I pat Persephone on the head as I grab a pair of sneakers to throw into my bag when I hear Stiles’ Jeep pull up to the house.

He gets out to help me get myself out to the car, somehow knowing I’m worthless at walking in heels. I notice that he’s gotten very dressed up for a party. He’s paired a light pink dress shirt with a black tie and grey suit jacket with skinny jeans. I raise an eyebrow, wondering if he got dressed in the dark but not really caring too much. I have come to appreciate his weird sense of style, with his many layers of shirts and odd pairings of colors.

When he finally looks at me, his mouth drops, making me laugh loudly. I can’t say I was expecting that kind of reaction but I won’t say no to it.

“You look… wow!” I shake my head at him, a smile crossing my face.

“Yeah?” I do a little spin for him, just to get the full effect. Stiles laughs and helps me into the Jeep. I watch him rush to his side and get in the car.

“So, I’ve got some things prepared in case you feel like you may lose control.” He pulls a duffle bag out of the back seat and hands it to me gently. “I have rope, cuffs, and if it comes to it, chains. You said Lydia had a basement, right?” I nod and he continues. “If we have to, we can keep you down there away from everyone.” Something on my face must have betrayed my thoughts of worry, because he quickly adds, “not that I think you’ll have too much of an issue with it. You seem pretty in control right now.”

I smile, but something must have changed in my face because Stiles’ eyes lock onto my own. Fear leaks out of him, the smell of it hitting me quickly.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately worried.

“Your eyes were yellow for a second. I hadn’t seen them do that yet.” His fingers start drumming on the wheel, an anxious tick of his that I nearly duplicated by bouncing my leg.

“Oh. Is that bad or…?” I gnawed on my lip, hoping that my eyes changing color wasn’t a bad omen of what was to come.

“I don’t think so. You weren’t doing that on purpose right?” I shake my head. “Maybe it was triggered by feeling anxious. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” He smiles, but the reek of fear lingers.

The party goes off without a hitch. Lydia really does throw great parties, though I barely see her or Allison the entire time, though I try to periodically check on them, just to make sure. Allison seems to be having a really good time with Scott, and Lydia is off with Jackson somewhere almost constantly disappearing into dark corners to make out.

I stick with Stiles most of the time, his hand on my arm a constant comfort. We drink a little, but I mainly try to stay away from the alcohol. The lights outside hurt my eyes, so we stayed inside. He barely leaves my side, only leaving for a few minutes to check Lydia’s basement. Stiles is back within moments, finding me in the same place he had left me. We dance a little, his moves goofy and catching me off guard. I genuinely started having a good time, the worry that had consumed me for the past few days slowly leaking out of me.

However, sometime around ten, Stiles rushes out to follow Scott out of the party and leaves me on my own, without much of an explanation.

“I’ll be right back!” he yells before disappearing. I try to keep to myself after that, not wanting to risk anything. Not long after he leaves, I realize that I haven’t seen Allison in a long time and go to find her.

“Hey have you seen Allison?” I yell over the music to Lydia. She shakes her head, and continues to dance with Jackson. I sigh, irritation crawling its way up my spine. It couldn’t be that hard to know where one girl went, right? I quickly crush the irritation, knowing that won’t help me find anyone.

I head towards the bathroom, deciding that would be the quietest place to make a call. I call Stiles, he doesn’t pick up. Then I try to call Allison, no answer there either. Frustration and anger fill me, nearly overtaking the anxiety of the situation. I grip the sink and watch my fingers lengthen and grow sharp claws. Looking up, I watch my face transform slowly; the space between my brows becomes flatter, my eyes turn a bright shade of yellow, and two pairs of fangs rip through my gums. I groan, realizing how painful having extra teeth in my mouth was.

I try to take deep breaths, to find my center but nothing works. God, Lydia will kill me if I mess up this stupid bathroom. My face stays the same and at that moment I’m glad Stiles left to trail after Scott. I don’t think I’d want him to see me like this. Shockingly, at the thought of Stiles my claws slowly start retreating. I watch as my hands return to normal in a few moments and the pain in my gums recedes slowly.

Closing my eyes, I try to think more about Stiles and the way he calms me down. I think about how his hand on my arm kept me stable tonight and my eyes return to their usual dark color. Focusing on the image of him dancing in my head, I can feel my face settle back into its normal position. I sigh, letting go of the sink and stare into the mirror to make sure everything is back to normal.

Once I’ve assured myself I’m back to being myself, I smile at my reflection. A sense of pride overcomes me, making my smile turn into a grin. I didn’t hurt anyone. A weight is slowly taken off my shoulders and I feel as if I can finally breathe again. I made it through my first full moon without doing anything stupid, I wasn’t naked in the woods, no one was dead. I could handle this. I could do this.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #new oc #werewolf #i have too much time on my hands #things can only get better #teen wolf season one

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hartigays · 5 years

Note

2 for Harringrove ??

2. “The thought of losing you scares me.”

(these are supposed to be fluff prompts but we going ✈️ end of the world anyway bc i can)

it’s been six months, eight weeks, and four days since their plan at starcourt failed. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the sky turned black and red and the world grew cold. six months, eight weeks, and four days since the gate blew open and effectively ended the world as they knew it.

six months, eight weeks, and four days since billy almost died in a pool of black sludge on the grimy linoleum floors of starcourt mall.

he’s doing better. most of his wounds were shallow, save for the few that went deep enough to nearly take his life. but doc owens had a house full of supplies to suture billy up like frankenstein.

even after owens deemed him fit for travel, they stayed there for a while. billy and the rest of the party. holed up in owens’ house, trying to figure out just how they could possibly ride this out.

two weeks into their stay, they came late at night. the demo-dogs, a whole swarm of them. the group defended the house as best as they could, but it was a lost cause. they were out on the open road by the what used to be considered sunrise.

time has ceased to have any real meaning anymore, if they’re being honest. there’s no morning or night, just darkness and a cold that seeps deep into their bones and refuses to go away.

the line between the two dimensions has been all but erased. the upside down has consumed their world; swarms of demo-dogs prowl the frozen wasteland, the mind flayer takes more and more people for its army each day.

they keep running. from city to city, state to state, just barely escaping the mind flayer’s grasp each time.

the kids don’t smile much these days. el is tired more often than not, weakened and drained from the constant use of her gifts. joyce doesn’t have many soft, kind words to lend out anymore. hopper has distanced himself from everyone, both physically and emotionally. standing guard and pacing around in the night on the fringes of wherever they’ve made camp.

and steve. steve doesn’t smile softly anymore, doesn’t make his goofy jokes or try to cheer the kids up. he just grips onto his bat, wound tight and always at the ready, constantly on high alert.

billy is surprised, given his near-death experience, that he’s actually not the most fucked up person in this broken group. he supposes he was built more for a world like this than most. he’d hardened himself to the world they knew Before. this one just seems to make more sense for someone like him.

violence has run in his blood since he’d exited the womb. fighting monsters and suffering from hunger and exhaustion and living in a world devoid of warmth and happiness apparently just comes naturally to him.

that isn’t to say that billy doesn’t have a lot of regrets. he regrets not telling max that he loved her more, Before. it feels odd to say it now, like maybe he’d only be saying it because they could die at any given moment.

he regrets not going back to california to see his mom when he had the chance. he regrets being cruel to the kids he now spends every waking moment protecting. he regrets convincing himself to waste his time with someone like karen wheeler, something he only did to bury the ugly truth about himself and his desires.

billy certainly regrets not being kinder with steve.

it’d be easier, if he had. it’d be easier to tell steve now that he loves him. it’s another situation where it just seems forced, like he’s only deciding this now when there’s no one left to choose from.

that could never be the case, but billy can’t see steve thinking otherwise. it’s just. billy didn’t let himself feel it for so long. his love for steve crept up on him, from the moment they first met. there was just something about him. and the more his feelings grew, the more afraid he became. the more he lashed out and repressed how he felt.

it feels like a lost cause now. but billy doesn’t quite think things like that carry the weight of any real importance, not anymore. not when they have to fight every day just to stay alive. so, he focuses on that. on finding food, water, shelter. on protecting the party, one day at a time.

billy has had to do a lot of protecting today. they had to pull up stakes at their last camp, another demo-dog pack blowing through. they lost a lot of stuff in the process - food and water, mostly. the demo-dogs seem to learn rather quickly what items to destroy along with the people.

they drove for nearly three days before finding a dilapidated motel in a small nebraskan town. billy, steve, and nancy help hopper do a sweep and clear out any demo-dogs hiding in the shadows. they set up a perimeter not long after.

hopper takes billy and steve on a run into town for supplies. it’s been nearly picked clean by either other survivors, or demo-dogs. they’re still prowling the streets when they arrive.

needless to say, it doesn’t go very well.

billy has to see doc owens immediately upon their return; his arm was nearly shredded by a particularly nasty dog. steve had sprung in at the last moment, beating the ugly bastard off of billy with his bat. now, steve nearly paces a hole in the floor while owens works on stitching billy up.

he doesn’t know why steve is so wound up tonight. they got enough supplies to satiate the whole group, especially the kids. it was a good run.

they’re sharing a room at the motel. no one sleeps alone - it’s one of their cardinal rules. billy heads to it after they eat. steve follows after him and slams the door shut so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“the fuck, harrington?” billy hisses, sitting up in alarm. “you trying to bring a pack of dogs down on us like it’s fuckin’ judgment day?”

“you almost died again.” it’s said with an air of finality. like billy should’ve already known the cause of steve’s upset.

“that’s life now, pretty boy,” billy sighs, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes. “you really should learn how to get used to that.”

steve cuts him a glare. “you don’t fucking get it, do you?”

there’s obviously something that billy is missing here. he doesn’t quite understand what steve is so bent out of shape about.

“obviously not,” billy says, standing and moving to slip his shirt off before climbing into bed.

he doesn’t quite make it back into the bed. steve marches over and grabs his arm, stopping him before he has the chance.

“i can’t - i can’t lose you too,” steve tells him, his voice breaking. “i can’t watch you die. i won’t. the thought of you not being here, losing you, it just. scares the fuck out of me.”

billy swallows around the lump that has mysteriously formed in his throat. he doesn’t brush steve off when his hand slides down his arm, until it can grasp billy’s and tangle their fingers together. he’s pretty sure he stops breathing, though.

“you won’t,” he says, finally. “who else would keep your pretty ass out of trouble?”

“billy, i’m serious. you can’t keep putting yourself in danger like that. like you did today,” steve begs, squeezing his hand tight.

“that dog would’ve killed you if i hadn’t.”

“yeah, but it almost killed you!” steve cries, releasing billy’s hand to throw his up in exasperation.

“oh, what, so i’m supposed to let you die and just protect myself instead?” billy snaps, his voice raising an octave. “fuck off with that shit. you think you can’t handle a world without me in it? how the fuck do you think i’d feel if i lost you? you ever fuckin’ consider that?”

he’s borderline shouting now, and steve slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. billy peels his hand off, taking a steady breath. laces their fingers together again.

“there’s never going to be a time where i don’t pick your life over mine,” billy tells him. “better get used to that, too.”

steve takes a deep breath of his own. he searches billy’s eyes, before squeezing his shut and leaning in. he rests his forehead against billy’s, just breathing together for a moment.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, breaking the silence that has fallen between them.

“for what?” billy questions, his brows furrowing.

“for not doing this sooner.”

steve pulls him in and seals their mouths together. billy emits a soft noise of surprise, his eyes flying open. he feels frozen, like he’s not quite sure if this is really happening or not. but when steve starts to pull away, billy’s brain comes back online.

he yanks steve in closer, kissing him with every last bit of energy he has, and then some. steve’s hand leaves his, only for both of them to grasp onto billy’s shirt, fingers curling into the material. billy cradles steve’s face in his hands, holding him like he’s precious.

he kinda is, if billy hasn’t made that abundantly clear yet.

“i’m so fucking in love with you,” steve breathes when they break apart. “god, i can’t believe i haven’t said that until now. you’ve almost died like, five hundred times and i’ve never told you the most important thing that i could ever possibly say to anyone ever and -”

billy cuts him off, giving steve another kiss, this one warm and gentle. “it’s okay. i - yeah. i love you too. didn’t ever say it either.”

“guess that makes us both idiots.”

billy smiles running his fingers through steve’s hair. it’s long beyond reason, which is both sexy and dangerous.

“we need to cut this soon,” billy comments. “god forbid something grabs onto this damn mop while we’re out on a run.”

“i’ll let you cut mine if you let me trim your beard. it’s getting a little mangy,” steve offers, then makes a face. “god. is this what intimacy is in the apocalypse? cutting each other’s hair?”

billy snickers softly. “i think i have a few better ideas.”

“oh yeah? like what?”

taking steve’s hand, billy pulls him towards the bed farthest from the door, smiling softly. “i think it’d be better if i just showed you.”

steve pauses. and then, “oh, you mean right now?”

billy plops down on the mattress, reclining back on his elbows. he arches a brow. “what, you got somewhere to be, pretty boy?”

there’s only a split-second pause before steve is scrambling to straddle billy’s hips. steve smiles down at him, leaning down to kiss the tip of billy’s nose.

“nowhere but here, sweetheart.”

send me a number + a pairing!

#im very seriously thinking about turning this into a full blown fic #so much fun to write #thanks for the request 💕#harringrove #my fics #ask #anon

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

Text

“I’m going to stand on the ground like a skyscraper”

Is there a necklace that you wear all the time? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years. How often do you wear skirts? Never. Do you enjoy baking? I used to, especially during the holidays. I haven’t done any baking the past few years, though. Do you have a large kitchen? No, it’s really small. Is anything sore on your body at the moment? Of course.

Do you like 3D movies? No. Where were you 3 hours ago? Sitting right here on my bed. Have you ever heard of Hot Chelle Rae? Yeah. I liked a couple of their songs. Do you know where Poland is? I know it’s in Europe. Are you afraid of dying? Yes. Are you wearing socks right now? Always. Do you speak your mind? I keep a lot to myself. If you found a wounded bird, what would you do? I honestly don’t know. I’ve never encountered a wounded bird. Ever rode on an elephant? No. Have you ever had braces? Yes, but not for my teeth.

“Cause I finally realize that I can’t get you off my mind”

Have you ever eaten a crayon? No. Do you like strawberries? Yeah. I haven’t had any in years, though. Wrestling or boxing? Neither. When's the last time you went to the mall? Last December. Have you ever gone Christmas Caroling? I have, actually. A few of us from the psych club I was in at my community college went caroling one year to a few different nursing homes. It was nice, they seemed to enjoy it. What song do you never get tired of? There’s numerous songs that will always be a favorite of mine. Do you have a favorite chef? No. Do you know who Travis Pastrana is? Yeah. What song pumps you up and makes you feel good? Hmm. What's bothering you right now? My back and the fact that I don’t feel well.

Favorite flavor of gum? Minty flavors. Does your school have air conditioning? How many mirrors do you have in your home? 5 that I know of for sure. That doesn’t include handheld mirrors, though. What does your wrapping paper look like for presents this year? I haven’t bought any, yet. Do you like Jay-Z? I’ve only liked a couple of his songs. However, the Linkin Park and Jay-Z collab album was/is dope.

“we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday”

What time was it 14 hours ago? 5:30PM. What's the craizest thing that happens in your hometown? Uh, high crime rates. :X Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes. What's your favorite city? Beachy, touristy cities throughout California. Have you ever laid on a hammock? I think I have as a kid. Who's the most famous person you met? Jamie Lee Curtis. Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend stolen from you? No. Where do you want to live someday? Near the beach. I’d love to have a beach home one day. Do you like your eyes? I wish I had blue or green eyes instead. Do you wear a watch? Nope. Do you like peanut butter? Yes. Do you tan easily? If I spend a day at the beach I’ll sunburn and then it turns into a tan. That’s the only time I spend a long period of time outdoors. Do you have sensitive skin? Yes. Do you care if people smoke/drink? Not in general, no. If it becomes a problem then yes. Has anyone ever gives you roses? Nope.

“every little thing that you do, I’m amazed by you”

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Sigh. I dozed off around 5AM and slept until 7AM and here we are now at 7:53AM. I don’t understandddd. D: I’m going to definitely attempt more sleep, but I have to call my doctor soon. Do you hate it when babies cry? If it’s loud and excessive it gets overwhelming and annoying. Would you like to get snake bites? (the piercing) Not now, but I wanted them back when I was like 16. Would you move to a new state/country to be with the one you love? That’s one of those situations I’d have to be in to know what I’d do. It’s hard for me to even imagine cause I’ve never even been close to that before. It’s also hard for me to imagine ever moving far away from my family. I think I’d try to work something else out to be honest. Like, maybe they wouldn’t mind picking up and moving here? Why would I have to move? What is your name? Stephanie. What do you plan on buying in the future? Christmas presents for my fam soon. Who is your favorite "That '70 Show" character? I don’t have one. I actually watched that show during its original run, but I tried again years later when I was older and couldn’t get into it. There is a mummy behind you. What do you do? Uh, run? What do you think of Miley Cyrus? I like her. Do you tend to think you are always right? Absolutely not. What was your favorite toy as a child? Barbies. I was obsessed. Do you think more about your funeral or wedding? Uh, neither. Dinosaurs or unicorns? Unicorns, I guess. You need new jeans. Where do you go? I haven’t bought a new pair of jeans in years. I’d probably look at JCP first since that’s where I used to get them. I always found the perfect fit there. What do you think about Maroon 5? I like a lot of their music.

“someone pinch me, I must be dreaming again”

Have you ever snuck into an R-rated movie when you weren't old enough? Nah. How many Emily's do you know? I don’t know any. Have you ever slept in a tent outside? No. What's your favorite kind of Girl Scout cookie? I like all of ‘em really except for the coconut ones. Their newer cookie, Lemonades, are quite delicious. What do you hear at the moment? An ASMR video. Why do you think a lot of people left Myspace for Facebook? Facebook became cooler for some reason. I remember not wanting to make the move at all, I thought Facebook was lame lol. I just did it because everyone literally left. I don’t know about everyone else, but when it happened for me it was soon after graduating high school and Facebook was for college students, so I guess we just graduated from Myspace or something. *shrug* It’s crazy how quickly it flip flopped, though. Myspace became lame and now we all kinda laugh about it. Do you watch the Olympics? Nope. Have you ever been to Minnesota? No. What's the strangest thing you've seen on TV? Hmm. What do you miss most about elementary school? I miss being elementary school ages the most, but also school was fun back then. I liked the projects and music class and this thing called field day that we did on the last day of school every year that consisted of like relay games and whatnot. It was fun. Anything funny happen to you while you were at Wendy's? Uhh, no. I very rarely even go to Wendy’s. It’s been awhile. When's the last time you picked up a stick? I have no idea.

How often do you have camp fires? Never. I’d like to do bonfires in the fall.

“honestly, I haven’t been happy for a long time”

How long has your computer been on? Hours. Do you like chips and salsa? I used to love chips and salsa. I can’t eat spicy food anymore, though. :( Do you have any pictures of the guy you like? There’s no such guy at the moment. Ever touched a fish? I don’t think so. Maybe as a kid with my pet fish. When's the last time you uploaded pictures onto Facebook or Myspace? I uploaded a new profile picture last month on Facebook. Do you have any band-aids on right now? Nope. Ever had a blister? Yes. Not fun. Do you watch the show The Hard Times or RJ Berger? No. Have you ever voted for anything? Yeah, for elections and other smaller stuff. Do you like high top shoes? I can’t wear them cause they’re hard for me to get my foot into. Do you think those nerd glasses are cool? What are nerd glasses, exactly?

Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band/singer? Yes. Have you ever worn a tie? No. Have you ever made dinner for someone? No, cause I don’t cook. Do you only listen to your muisc loud? No. I like to listen to it at a comfortable level. It varies, but never super loud.

“my give a damn’s busted”

Have you ever taken drama class? I actually did take two drama classes in community college. :O Shocking, I know. Have you ever rode a mechanical bull? Nooo. That would be very dangerous for me to do and I’d never even attempt it. Have you ever played on a basketball team? No. Ever stayed in a motel? Yes. What number was your jersey in high school? I didn’t have a jersey, I didn’t play any sports. Have you ever choked on something? Yes. I had one really traumatic experience that changed how I take my medicine ever since. That happened almost 10 years ago now, but ever since I’ve had to crush my pills. When I tried taking pills again not long after it happened, it literally felt like my throat was closing up every time and I was terrified of it getting lodged again. That day was really scary, my dad literally almost had to put his finger down my throat. Do you wear a belt? Nope, I only ever wear leggings. I’ve actually never worn a belt before, though. Do you have a rug in your room? No. Do you go camping during the summer? Nope. I have no interest at all in doing that. Do you carry a purse everywhere you go? Not anymore, but I used to. In most recent years it was a mini backpack. Where's your favorite place to get coffee? Honestly, I’m a basic bitch and just go to Starbucks, ha. It’s nearby and convenient and yeah. Plus, people hate on it but I actually like it. *shrug* I get really into it when they come out with their winter drinks, like they have now. I wish we had a Tim Hortons so I can see what that hype is all about. What's the last time you searched on Google? When’s the last time I searched on Google? Earlier. Which of these singers have the best voice: Katy Perry or Usher? I think they both sing well. They’re very different, you can’t really compare. What food is your weakness? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings from Wingstop. How many unread emails do you have right now? I don’t feel like checking at the moment.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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speedylubentire · 4 years

Text

Tire Rotation Moreno Valley CA

Oil Change Perris CA - Where to Go and Where to Stay

Tire Rotation Moreno Valley CA is a city of approximately thirty-five thousand people that is located in the San Diego County. It is in the northern part of the County, along the Pacific Ocean and the border with Riverside County, California. In terms of geography, it lies south of downtown Los Angeles and north of San Diego.

Oil Change Perris CA is about sixty miles from Los Angeles and fifteen miles from San Francisco. The city is also easily accessible by the freeway system and is part of the metropolitan area. The city is home to several corporations and business centers. It is considered to be a cosmopolitan community and has very upscale real estate.

Because of the city's location and proximity, many business travelers use Perris as their destination for business travel. Many travel companies have offices and branches here and most of them are quite popular among travelers and business travelers alike. There are a number of hotels, motels, inns, bed and breakfasts, vacation rentals and condos located in the city itself. You can usually find a good price on these properties if you do a little research on the Internet. If you are visiting from out of town, you will want to check with local businesses and ask them which hotel, motel, or inn they would recommend.

If you are looking for a place to stay in the city of Perris, you should definitely consider staying at one of the local motels and hotels. The city is very affordable and has a number of great hotels and motels that offer discount prices, especially if you stay during off peak times. Motels and hotels in Perris are fairly close to the downtown area, which means you can get to work, shopping, and everything else without having to drive too far to get your needs met. You can also walk a few blocks and visit the many restaurants and shops that are located near the downtown area.

For those who do not like to stay in hotels or motels, you can choose between staying in one of the condo or town homes located near the city of Perris. These home options may not have much in the way of amenities, but they are quite convenient. They are situated a little further from downtown and the shopping and entertainment areas of the area but are still within easy driving distance to all of your daily needs.

Some of the places in the city of Perris that are worth considering include the Perris Airport, a beautiful golf course, and the historic downtown area. There are also a number of recreational activities that you can enjoy while in the city such as the Perris Zoo, the Perris City College, and the local golf courses. If you are looking to find unique attractions and sights, you may want to consider driving around a little and checking out the historical sites such as the former military base, the Perris Cathedral and the Perris Mission.

There is a very large selection of local stores and restaurants located in the downtown area and the Perris Museum, located in the heart of downtown, offers an amazing collection of artifacts and artwork. You can shop in the downtown area or head down to the downtown area to grab lunch or dinner.

As you can see, the city of Tire Rotation Moreno Valley CA is one of the best in Southern California. It offers everything from affordable lodging, entertainment, and shopping opportunities to a great nightlife and museums. If you are planning to visit the area soon, be sure to plan your trip well. You can easily find everything you need with a little research.

#Tire Rotation Moreno Valley CA

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gaycrouton · 5 years

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Succumbing to the Truth (Ch2)

Chapter 1

---------------------------------

Clarke Residence

Bakersfield, California

June 5th, 1999

4:32pm

Scully had to resist the urge to gasp at the man that opened the door. How he managed to look even paler than he did in the images sent over, she had no idea, but here he was, leaning against the doorframe while looking like death personified.

Mulder must've thought the same thing, because before even introducing himself he asked, "Mr. Clarke, are you alright?"

The man's red eyes were bulging slightly, though Scully thought that might just be due to his emaciated figure, and he nodded vigorously while gesturing for them to come in. "Are you Agents Mulder and Scully?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"Yes, we are. Are you sure you're all right, sir? You look like you could use medical attention," Scully asked, hesitantly stepping into the home. There was an uncomfortable moment of awkward tension as Mulder followed her into the threshold of the home and they turned to watch the man struggle to even find the energy to close his door. She shot Mulder a glance as Mr. Clarke caught his breath, relying on the door to support some of his weight.

He shook his head and lead them to his living room. "No, no. I've been. The doctors said there was nothing wrong with me."

Mulder and Scully exchanged a look behind his back and she prodded doubtfully, "You really went to a doctor?"

Another nod as he all but threw himself onto a chair. He barely seemed to recognize they had followed him until he mumbled, "Don't mind the ceiling, I had to have a handyman come fix the light a few days ago."

They just looked at each other before looking upwards, noticing a new layer of spackle haphazardly drooping around a rusty light fixture. They didn't think much of it before hesitantly sitting on the sofa across from him. Scully was just about to repeat her question when he sighed, "They said all the tests came back normal. They even did a, whaddya call, uh, x-ray-"

"They performed a CAT Scan?" Scully offered. Standing up and kneeling beside him in the chair, grabbing his wrist to take his pulse, noticing how clammy and cold he was to the touch.

He seemed startled by her touching him and stumbled over his words. "Y-yeah. It, um, it was normal."

She grabbed his face and, keeping one hand on his cheek, raised a finger in front of his face. "Follow my finger with your eyes."

He did as he was told and as soon as the finger was down his eyes kept flitting from her face to the ground to her chest to the wall. The attention made her a bit uncomfortable and she wasn't finding anything wrong, so she got up and sat next to Mulder again. "And they didn't find a single thing wrong?"

"Yeah, according to them I'm right as rain," he nodded. "Even though they were looking at me like the both of you are now."

Scully straightened at being called out and moved to apologize, but Mulder beat her to it.

"We're sorry, Mr. Clarke, but… your email didn't quite prepare us for your condition," he offered.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I just don't know what's happening to me," he sighed, rubbing his head nervously.

"Why don't you tell us when this started?" Scully prompted gently.

"Well, my friend, the one I told you about," he pointed to Mulder, "he was callin' me last week, talking about how he was having these strange dreams and I didn't think much of it, but then I started having weird dreams."

"Weird how?" Mulder asked.

Scully saw the man shoot her a shy glance before his demeanour shifted completely. He seemed uncomfortable and Scully was worried she'd done something, but when she looked at Mulder he looked equally as confused. "I, uh," he stammered.

"Sir, we promise anything you tell us will be absolutely confidential," Scully reassured.

"It just feels...inappropriate in front of a lady," he murmured, squirming slightly in his seat.

"Mr. Clarke, Agent Scully has seen it all, I promise nothing you say will shock her," Mulder stated confidently as Scully nodded in affirmation.

"The dreams feel like I'm being intimate with a woman, and-" he paused, "It feels really real."

It took every fibre of Scully's being to keep her eyebrows from shooting upwards at the fact they did, in fact, travel all the way out here because this man had a vivid sex dream. All of her hesitance, however, was matched in intensity by Mulder's piqued interest. "A woman?"

The man nodded and quickly shrugged, "I mean, it feels like a woman, and she looked like a woman."

"Looked?" Scully repeated.

"Well, usually I can only catch a glimpse of her face, or else she's just like...a mist?" he sounded like he could barely even believe it himself.

"Was it a woman you know?" Mulder asked.

"No, no. I've never seen her before the dreams started," he mumbled nervously.

"What does she look like?"

"Evil," he said with so much intensity, Scully felt herself break out in goosebumps, regardless of the fact she didn't believe this was anything more than a sick man's sex dream. Looking around, she could see the man seemed to have a cross on every wall of his house which only added to the strangeness of this situation.

"What's she usually doing in your dream?" Mulder asked, sounding equally as thrown by the man's severity.

"Me," he stated simply. They waited for him to elaborate, but he seemed to think that summed it all up.

"I think Agent Mulder is talking more about the specifics," Scully said slowly.

"Have you ever had a woman have sex with you before?" the man asked irritably, looking at Mulder.

She tried to bite back her smile as she saw Mulder's ears turn red. "Um, yes."

"It was like that," he snapped, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. "I'd be an idiot to ever take that for granted."

"How do the dreams usually end?" she asked, trying to remain on his good side.

"Have you ever-" he started in the same tone, but immediately stopped when she shot him a nasty look. He appeared contrite as he shrank back into himself. "I uh, I," then he made an explosion gesture in front of his crotch, along with a matching sound before grumbling, "-in my boxers and then I wake up. It just feels so real."

"Are you sure it's not? Could it be possible someone's been breaking into your house at night?" Mulder questioned.

The man seemed to get offended at this and he scoffed, sitting up. "No! No, I-the doors are always locked and the windows. If I woke up and there was a naked lady on top of me and if she was real I wouldn't have a problem-"

"Sir," Scully interrupted, trying to comfort his agitation, but he didn't seem to notice her.

"I just, there's nothing I can do with this thing! It feels like I'm paralyzed, I can't move, I can't do anything, and I feel fantastic until I feel awful," he stammered.

"Mr. Clarke," she stated louder, getting his attention this time. "Just because your body is reacting doesn't mean you're consenting for this to happen. If this is, um, a spirit of sorts as seemingly suggested, then this is a metaphysical violation and you shouldn't feel guilty about your body's physiological response."

The man didn't seem to be eased by her words and he simply shook his head before lowering it into his hands. "You mentioned paralysis, is there anything else strange about these dreams?" Mulder questioned, breaking the tense silence.

"No, not that I can think of," he shrugged.

"Well, if you think of anything else, please give us a call. We'll be in the area," Mulder said while standing up, handing the man his business card. Scully worried the man would collapse in front of him, but didn't say anything more as they left.

While walking to the car, Scully looked over her shoulder to make sure they weren't being watched before proclaiming, "Mulder, really?"

"Scully, you have to admit something's wrong with that man. He looks on the verge of death and, besides, there is no way he could have put those marks on himself based on the photos we saw. He'd have to have dislocated his shoulder to make a pattern like that," Mulder defended, unlocking her door before making his way around the car. He resumed his rant as soon as they were both in, "And did you hear him mention the sleep paralysis? That along with his other symptoms are classic signs of a succubus visitation."

"A succubus?" Scully repeated in disbelief. "As in the sexual demon?"

"In relation to the male version, an incubus. Yes, the very same," he replied, starting the car.

"And what symptoms are you referring to exactly?"

"The paralysis, the exhaustion following a nocturnal emission, bloodshot eyes, his fatigue," Mulder listed confidently, either unable to see her eyeroll or ignoring it.

"It more likely could've just been a traumatic sexual night dream. Especially in communities where sexuality is repressed, indulgence, even if unconsciously, can be heavily associated with guilt. Which is why occurrences of succubi and incubi are more common in Middle Eastern countries and in Catholic communities where sexuality is heavily dictated. People are then more willing to blame the paranormal when their own repressed sexual urges come to the surface. Did you see all the crosses in there, Mulder? He's clearly a religious man," she explained as he made his way back to their motel.

"That's an interesting theory, Scully. But did you happen to notice that he asked me plainly if a woman had ever had sex with me? Not to mention the-" Mulder put one hand in front of his crotch and made an explosion sound mimicking the other man's ejaculation reference.

Scully rolled her eyes as he laughed at how ridiculous that was. "Well, that's something to take into consideration itself."

"What, his poor charades potential?" Mulder joked.

"No, he was up front with you. He didn't even want to talk about the subject in my presence," she explained.

"What do you make of that?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know," she shrugged, fiddling with the air conditioner. "He asked you if a woman has had sex with you before. Maybe he would have answered differently than you did."

"You think he's a virgin?" Mulder asked, surprise evident in his tone.

"Maybe not a virgin, but his phrasing of the question itself was odd," she mused.

"That's true. He didn't ask if I'd had sex with a woman, but if a woman has had sex with me," Mulder clarified.

She felt her brow furrow as she tried to understand the implications of this. While it felt like there was a dominance difference in the tonality of the questions, ultimately they led to the same thing. "I'm not sure I fully understand the difference," she admitted, trying to sound completely indifferent to the turn of this conversation.

"The difference between a man having sex with a woman and a woman having sex with a man?" he clarified.

"As in the psychological difference between the sexes' different perceived response to intercourse? I know women have different chemical releases post-coitally than men do," she explained.

"While that's true, based on the questions before he said it, I think he's talking about the physicality," Mulder responded, idly looking around for a motel to stay at.

She was glad he was semi-distracted because if he wasn't, she was sure he'd be teasing her a lot more for even asking. "I'm not following."

Maybe he wasn't as distracted as he was trying to get her to believe. He let out an almost inaudible sigh and straightened up in his seat, leaning forward a bit. "Well, uh. Okay, so a man's interested in a woman...?" he started.

She wasn't sure why he phrased it as a question until she realized he was making this an interactive learning experience. Great. "Okay," she affirmed.

"He wants to have sex with her so he instigates it. Man having sex with woman is great," Mulder explained. She might have been offended that he was speaking to her like a caveman, but she realized he was trying to make this as impersonal as possible. "Sure she reciprocates, it's all great, but I think the responsibility is on the man's shoulders," Mulder explained.

"So you're saying anytime a man instigates sex he's in charge?" Scully questioned, not quite agreeing or liking that line of thought.

"No, not exactly. I'm just trying to rationalize a possible baseline of comparison for his phrasing," Mulder explained, dipping into profiler mode.

"Okay, keep going."

"Conversely, woman has sex with man as in woman instigates. It's um, to the man it might be considered an ego boost or a reassurance of confidence. I think female instigation might be every man's fantasy," he mumbled the last part.

"Every man's?" she repeated.

"Uh," he chuckled nervously, tension filling the car because of the unspoken admission. "I'm just taking shots in the dark here," he lied, putting on his blinker so he could take the next exit to the motel.

Mulder likes it when women instigate. She was trying to keep her mind off playing a visual of her straddling Mulder, the way he would look up at her in pure reverence, how he'd feel growing hard beneath her. She obviously wasn't doing a good job because she didn't even realize Mulder was talking until he was in the middle of a sentence. "-so I'm thinking he's never really, or very rarely, had women instigate with him. He's used to being the pursuer and, if I had to guess, I'd say he's not used to success either way."

"So what does this all mean?" she asked.

"Maybe it was his desperation for a woman's affection that made him vulnerable to a succubus' attack," he shrugged.

She pursed her lips, thinking of the implications before admitting, "I don't like the idea of the succubus."

"Why, because they don't exist?" he teased.

"No, I just think it's sexist, much like the concept of the 'fallen woman'," she explained while her eyes caught sight of the tall neon blue sign of the motel, shaped like a buffalo.

"The what?" Mulder asked.

"The fallen woman. It was a Victorian concept that essentially equated women's worth to the status of their chastity. If a woman's 'purity' was in anyway compromised, purity being a problematic concept itself, then she was considered a fallen woman, essentially worthless. Often they were made out to be witches or harbingers of evil because they were women with sexual agency."

He was silently digesting this and she added, "While it occasionally was female promiscuity, it oftentimes wasn't, since men have a historical tendency of taking whatever they want. Men considered women filthy, ignoring the fact it was their own touch that tainted them. We never question why men's hands are so dirty in the first place."

"Would Lillith from the Bible be a fallen woman?" he asked.

"Exactly, it dates that far back and it's still with us presently through the rampant shaming of female sexuality. Look at Monica Lewinsky, she was an intern just trying to do her job. There was an abuse of power dynamics, she was put into a position where she would have to say no to the President of the United States, and she's become a social pariah, a joke," Scully sighed, getting riled up in the moment.

She tried to rein herself in and return to the issue at hand. "Look, what I'm saying is I think the whole idea of a succubus is in the same vein. Men get to act out their sexual fantasies, but in the light of day blame it on the 'villainous sexual-woman'."

"But there are incubi as well, and women are the ones usually being visited in those cases," he offered, not negating what she just said, just offering a counter theory.

"When was the first documented case of incubi?" she asked, knowing damn well he'd know.

"Mesopotamia was the first documentation."

"And succubi?"

"The fourteenth century."

"Incubi came first most likely because women were merely having completely normal sex dreams, just like men probably were, but of course there had to be some sort of paranormal influence because surely women can't simply be sexual," she stated, sarcastically.

He turned off the car which had been sitting idly in the parking spot, and turned to her. "And you're thinking the succubi came around because of the influence of the incubi legend, but the tactic with them was to reinforce the idea that women who are sexual need to be punished?"

"Yes," she nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt. "It's no different than the thousands of hours of derogatory porn made every year where women are treated as objects. Women's sexuality is treated as a commodity to be consumed by the male viewer, not an actual facet of her as a human being that she should be able to enjoy," she explained.

He unbuckled his own seatbelt and she continued when they were out of the car, "I think men like Jack Clarke whom, as you mentioned, doesn't receive a lot of attention from women, probably relies on pornography as a substitute for love and then didn't know how to accurately process the possibility of a woman, fake or not, coming onto him."

She walked towards him as he opened the trunk and he gently stated, "Not all men who watch porn have an awful view of women. You know that, right?"

She felt a bolt of guilt hit her as she realized she forgot about his own predilection. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I didn't mean-"

He offered her a smile to show there were no hard feelings and reassured, "I know. Just playing devil's advocate and perhaps just wanting to wave a white flag on behalf of a certain group of men, but there are quite a lot of porn movies that aren't derogatory and embrace, and actually focus on, the satisfaction and genuine pleasure of women."

She'd never actually asked him what his taste in porn was, she'd just seen the tapes every now and then out of the corner of her eye and did her best to ignore it to give him some privacy. This new admission that he preferred porn centered on women's pleasure was fitting and made her cheeks blush slightly. She felt bad for essentially backing him into a corner and forcing him to reveal something so personal, so she offered her own admission, "You're right. I've seen many in my time that, as you mention, um, do focus on equal pleasure between the participants."

She mumbled this as she grabbed her suitcase from Mulder and ignored the warmth of his fingers as they brushed on the handle. She was avoiding his gaze, but he wasn't responding, so she looked up only to see a shit-eating grin on his face. "I can't believe my ears, did Dana Scully just admit to watching porn?"

She felt heat spread to the back of her neck, but she wasn't going to back down. "What? Does that surprise you?"

He grabbed his own bag and shut the trunk. "I don't know, I think I assumed your catholic guilt would have gnawed at you or something," he chuckled.

She motioned for them to walk to the front office while she chastised him, "As I just mentioned, I think it's archaic and wrong to think women shouldn't enjoy sex. As a scientist, I recognize it's human nature, and as a woman I see the more...carnal instinct." She licked her lips in response to the interested sound of affirmation he made in the back of his throat in response to the last part of her statement. "The church may still try to follow the ideology that purity is somehow connected to moral decency, but I think it's repressive."

Mulder smiled at her as he opened the door for her, "Scully, you never cease to amaze me." A shy smile in response graced her lips and she stepped inside. Their conversation paused for the time being as they booked connecting rooms and settled in.

She was in the middle of hanging up her suits when there was a rap on her door. "Come in," she called out. Making sure the connecting door was unlocked during a case was always the first thing she did, being that Mulder was usually walking through it within thirty seconds of getting their rooms.

Like clockwork, the door opened and Mulder leaned against the frame donning a heather gray t-shirt and some shorts. A look she was quite fond of. "Going running?" she asked, trying to keep her appreciation to herself.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about our conversation earlier," he started.

She was nervous he was going to rekindle the porn conversation, but she let out an exhale of relief as he asked, "We still have no explanation of what's affecting him physically."

She returned to her bed and sat down to take off her shoes. "Well, I want to see a tox screen on both him and his dead friend. We also need to talk to the police department tomorrow and ask them about the investigation they'd done into his place. We still haven't ruled out the possibility that it really was a home invasion of some sort," she responded, letting her shoes fall to the floor as she stretched for what felt like the first time today.

She caught Mulder's eyes flicker downwards on her body before snapping back up. "I'm still not ruling out the possibility of a paranormal presence of some sort, but I set up a meeting with the police department tomorrow morning," he told her, clearing his throat.

"Sounds good. I might call it early tonight, so I might be asleep by the time you come back," she yawned, rubbing her face as she realized how exhausted this day of traveling really was.

"I'll leave you be. See you in the morning," he nodded, closing the door.

"Night," she called out.

Link to Ao3

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #casefile #msr #x files fanfic #mulder #scully

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vmheadquarters · 5 years

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It’s become old hat for a cult TV show to get revived in some capacity now, but rare is the TV show that gets two different revivals across different mediums. Veronica Mars is that rare show. First, it was brought back from the dead because of a passionate crowdfunding campaign that led to a movie released by Warner Bros. Pictures in the spring of 2014. Now, Veronica Mars is back again with an eight-episode fourth season airing on Hulu starting on Friday, July 26. Where the Kickstartered movie felt haphazard and mildly uninspired, this revival is incredibly well-written and conceived, a return to form at least as good as the show’s second season.

For the uninitiated, Veronica Mars (Kristen Bell) is a hard-nosed private investigator in the Southern California hamlet of Neptune, where the richest of the rich rub elbows with the lower classes. On the original show, airing on both UPN and the CW, Veronica is a high-school student whose dad Keith (Enrico Colantoni) had once been the city’s sheriff before accusing one of the richest men in town of having murdered a teenage girl (who happened to be Veronica’s best friend). After his fall from grace, Keith became a PI, with Veronica as his aide and a sleuth of her own, trying to solve the case of her best friend’s death and figure out who date-raped her at a wild party. Over the show’s three seasons, Veronica graduated high school, solved various murders and other crimes, went to college, had numerous romantic entanglements, etc. The show, created by Rob Thomas, was always at its best in balancing Veronica’s distinctively witty, charming personality with a neo-noir sensibility.

SPOILER BENEATH CUT

And the fourth season of Veronica Mars (I’ve seen all eight episodes) is a remarkable, bracing reminder of why the show is so rightfully beloved. Veronica and Keith are still at Mars Investigations in Neptune, but a lot around them has changed. After the events of the movie, there’s literally a new sheriff (Dawnn Lewis) in town, who’s clearly a good detective despite still disdaining the presence of PIs like Ketih and Veronica. Our heroine and her paramour Logan (Jason Dohring) live together, but Logan, a Naval Intelligence officer, is often away on classified missions. He returns from his latest, at the same time as Neptune celebrates another hedonistic Spring Break season, with a surprising question for our heroine: a marriage proposal.

Veronica can only distract herself from that shocking offer when a bomb goes off at one of the local motels, leading her down a rabbit-hole conspiracy where she and Keith are tasked with figuring out who set off the bomb and why. And, in Veronica Mars form, the question of who the bomber is involves a lot more figures than would be expected. There’s a Muslim Congressman and his rigid family, a true-crime obsessive (Patton Oswalt), a Neptune entrepreneur and his enigmatic fixer (J.K. Simmons), Mexican hitmen, and more.

The era of streaming has made it so even a revival of a beloved show doesn’t guarantee it will feel the same as the original did. As was the case with the show’s third season, the case here doesn’t span the course of 20-plus episodes. There’s also not a lot of side cases for Veronica to investigate, just the spate of bombings and their unique aftereffects, as detailed in the eight 50-minute installments. And unlike in the original series, there are only three regulars in the opening credits: Bell, Colantoni, and Dohring. (This credit choice is interesting because you could make a very solid case that Oswalt, Simmons, and Clifton Collins, Jr., as one of the aforementioned hitmen, have at least as much to do as Dohring does. Oswalt, too, appears in every episode.) A number of the show’s supporting characters from the old days do show up, but often very briefly and sometimes in ways that make you wonder why they’re there to begin with. (As a longtime fan of the show, I was very happy to see Percy Daggs III as Wallace Fennel again, but the character serves very little purpose in these episodes.)

That said, within the first hour, it becomes exceedingly clear that Rob Thomas and his writing staff — including, in a delightfully inexplicable twist, legendary NBA star Kareem Abdul-Jabbar — have an exciting, novelistic story to tell that demands to be told in ways that simply weren’t the case with the recent film. The world has changed in the 15 years since the show premiered, but those changes all are logical within the framework of the new season. Oswalt’s character, who convenes a group of fellow “Murder Heads”, is as solid a way to skewer the rise of true-crime shows, podcasts, etc., without actually turning him into a would-be podcaster. And the presence of a politician of color introduces the inescapable element of how the world looks today. (Though the current president’s name doesn’t get mentioned, there are enough references to him that make you smile at how much Veronica must loathe him.)

Somehow, it all largely works, though a few of the subplots and new characters work better than others once you look at it all in hindsight. The new cast — also including Izabela Vidovic as a teenage girl with a connection to the bombing who might as well be Veronica Mars 2.0, and Kirby Howell-Baptiste as a local club owner — all acquits themselves quite well. Simmons, as an ex-con who seems like the obvious bomber from the outset, is the MVP. He and Colantoni have a loose, lived-in chemistry, as Keith and this new guy try to feel each other out and end up with a shared mutual respect despite being on two sides of the law. But Howell-Baptiste, who some will recognize from a recurring role on the third season of The Good Place (making her time onscreen with Bell even more enjoyable), is a lot of fun too. And Oswalt especially, who’s close to the third lead of the season, proves his dramatic chops in a role that could’ve easily been a source of mockery.

Where the season stumbles (and only slightly) is in its finale, both in revealing the truth behind the first bombing and subsequent bombs set around Neptune as a morbid way to punctuate Spring Break parties, and in revealing what will happen next for Veronica. Being a neo-noir show implies that Veronica Mars can’t ever truly be all sunshine and rainbows — our hard-bitten heroine would likely blanche at such a fate. However, the events of the last 30 minutes of the season, despite technically playing fair logically, feel a bit reverse-engineered (and one specific choice is probably going to alienate a lot of fans).

These spoilery quibbles are just that, though: quibbles. Largely, the streamlined focus on having an eight-episode story spread out over the course of 400 or so minutes makes for the kind of season a streaming service like Hulu must be salivating over: this is an exceptionally bingeable revival, with each episode structured both as its own thing and offering enough teasing excitement for the next installment that you just want to keep watching. More to the point, the story mostly feels true to the Veronica Mars world; it’s the truly singular revival that proves its existence almost instantly and is one of the best TV returns to date.

/Film Rating: 8 out of 10

#veronica-mars #veronica mars #vm spoilers #veronica mars S4 #veronica mars S4 reviews

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penny4yourthot · 6 years

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Broken Stranger- part 1

This is my first SOA fic, finally found the confidence to post it. Thanks to my best freind @ithoughtofthisusername for editing it.

Summary: Torri (O/C) needs to escape her life in Seattle because of her abusive husband. When she ends up in Charming things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: domestic violence

Chibs/OC

I woke up to sunshine peeking through the curtains of my motel room, the bright light warming my face.This was an unusual sight for me. I recently left Seattle where it was raining and dark most days with clouds covering the sun. When I found the city of Charming I fell in love instantly with the small town feel and that warm feeling of the sun shining.

My entire family lived back in Seattle. They did not understand why I would leave them. What they did not comprehend was that I had to get away from my old life. It was not just the weather in Seattle that was shit, my marriage was not quite as it seemed. They thought I was happily married and ready to start a family, in reality I was far from that.

My husband Mike turned out to be a complete piece of shit.

Things started out great, he would take me on dates and treat me like a princess, even calling me one. As soon as we said ‘I do,’ he changed. He started getting jealous so easily, getting pissed when I went to work, all because I had male coworkers. I brushed it off because a little jealousy never hurt anyone. Right?

But it got worse, he would track my every move using my cell phone. He would check my phone while I was in the shower then ask who this man was that was texting me. I tried explaining to him that it was a coworker asking me to pick up a shift but he would deny it and accuse me of cheating on him.

I’ve seen the signs of abuse before, being a nurse I have even treated multiple victims of domestic violence. I always wondered why these women would put up with this and not just leave. I found out why very quickly.

My first attempt to leave Mike was the summer after we got married. He left me with a broken arm and a couple of bruised ribs. My second attempt, 4 months after the first try, I ended up with a broken wrist and bruises that littered my entire body. After the third attempt, he made me quit my job and stay home, only being able to leave the house with him. Even when he was at work he would know my every move, that’s when I knew he installed cameras in the house and watched them on his phone.

I never imagined I would end up in a situation like this. This man was straight crazy and I had never seen such an extreme case of control before. When he came home from work he would expect me to have dinner cooked for him, that didn’t bother me. I did not mind cooking three meals a day for him, hell, I didn’t even mind cleaning up after him. He became pretty predictable, he would come home and shower. I would make sure to pick his dirty laundry and set out clean clothes for him. We then would eat dinner and he would drink exactly three beers. There was a line near the bottom of each bottle and once the beer was at that line I would go to the fridge and retrieve him a fresh one. There was never any please or thank you from him, this is just what Is expected of me. This, I could live with.

It was what came after dinner that was the worst part of my day. He would expect sex from me. I never wanted to do it but he didn’t care, I was expected to put out whenever he wanted. I knew he was trying to get me pregnant so that I couldn’t try to leave again. I never had a dad growing up and always told him before we got married that it was important for our children to have an involved father.

I finally had enough one day. While he was at work, I took a backpack full of clothes and toiletries along with my wallet and ID and headed to the garage, making sure to leave my cell phone on the kitchen table, that bastard wouldn’t be able to track me now. I left at exactly 10:15 am. Mike had a meeting everyday at this time and phones were not aloud in the company meetings, so there was no way he could see me on the cameras. I started my motorcycle, which was the only thing that I had left of my life before marriage. I hopped on the bike and off I went.

My first stop would be a bank about 50 miles out of Seattle. At this bank, I had an account Mike didn’t know about. I had made this account as soon as I got my first nursing job. When I arrived at the bank I knew I looked like a hot mess. As I passed people walking in I could feel their stares on me. I did not have time to put makeup over the black eye that was quickly developing after last night's brawl with Mike. The cold air in the bank hit me hard and quickly brought me out of my head. I walked up to the counter and I withdrew all the money I had saved just for this moment and then closed the account. I have been planning to leave for months. But last night was the final straw for me.

When Mike came home from work last night, he was in a particularly bad mood. I knew this meant I must be on my best behavior. But when he claimed I rolled my eyes at him, he got so angry he started hitting me and just would not stop. He has hit me before but not ever in the face or anywhere that couldn’t be covered with clothes. However, this time he left me with a black eye along with a sprained or possibly broken wrist. On a normal day the pain of my injured wrist would stop me from riding my bike, But the adrenaline of leaving overcame the pain that I was in. But he also did something else he had never done before. He put his hands around my throat and choked me until everything fell black. That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore, I had never feared for my life more.

I ended up driving for a few days stopping only to get gas and at cheap motels to rest and shower. I didn’t have any particular destination in mind but when I drove through the small town of Charming I knew that’s where I wanted to stay.

I only just arrived in Charming two days ago. Today I am going to apply for a job and look for a small apartment. I have to get my nursing license transferred from Washington to California in order to be able to work as a nurse here. I’m not sure if Mike will be able to track me if I do that so I decided I would just apply for a job as a waitress. When I was in nursing school, I was a waitress in order to make ends meet.

I am currently staying in the cheapest motel I could find in order to conserve what money I have for a deposit on an apartment. The bed here is horrible and I had another restless night, only sleeping about three hours. Most nights come with nightmares about Mike making sleep difficult. I usually wake myself up screaming from my dreams. I decided to get up the minute I woke up, no point in wasting my time laying in bed unable to sleep. I put on the last pair of clean jeans I had and a T-shirt, making a mental note to find a laundromat. I headed out to my parked bike and went to start it, but it wouldn’t start.

“God dammit,” I muttered as I kicked the tire. I pulled out the cheap burner I bought and searched for the nearest mechanic. Finding the number, I called and a friendly women picked up. I told her my problem and where I was and she let me know that someone would be on their way to pick up my bike shortly.

I sat on a bench outside the motel and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lit one up. I was not a smoker until after I got married, when Mike started treating me like trash. Being a nurse, I know I am slowly damaging my body, but to hell with it, I don’t care. I drew in the first drag of the cigarette and felt the burn in my lungs, the familiar feeling immediately calming my anxiety.

I saw a tow truck pull up that said Teller-Morrow automotive repair. Stomping my cigarette out I got up and waved to the man driving the truck. He was an older man, well at least older than me. I had just turned 26 three days before I left Seattle. He had brown hair with grey peeking out at the roots.

“Torri?” he asked. I was shocked at his accent, instantly wondering where he was from.

“Yeah that’s me”

“Bike won’ star’?” He asked. He gave me a look, one that I am very familiar with. He was wondering why I have a black eye and bruises all over my arms. If he is smart he wouldn’t ask.

“Yeah, I’ve had this bike since I turned 18 and now that I need it more then ever, it shits out on me,” I replied.

He let out a low laugh. “Well yer first problem ‘ere is that yer no’ driving a Harley.” This caused me to chuckle.

“Tell me one 18 year old that can afford a Harley,” I replied.

“Aye, ye righ’. I’ll get yer bike on my truck and take it back to the shop, ye need a ride somewhere lass?”

“Well I can’t do shit without my bike so no I guess not” I said avoiding eye contact. I felt that stare again, the look of pity.

“Lass are ye in some sorta trouble?” I looked in the other direction thinking of something I could say to get out of this conversation.

“Nah, I just fell down some stairs, I’m alright”

“I’ve never seen a tumble down some stairs cause a black eye, Yer wris’ looks like it may even be broken, how did ye manage to ride this bike like tha’?” He asked as he started hooking my bike up to the pulleys which would lift it on the back of his tow truck.

I stood there in silence, trying to think of anything I could say to get him to stop asking questions. I’m definitely not ready to talk about what happened, especially not to a complete stranger I only met a few minutes ago. With the thought of what happened coming back to me full force, I sat on the ground with my hands over my eyes trying to shut it off. The flashback hit me full force, I could see Mike hitting me, trying to choke me. I felt my body rock back and forth and gasp for air. Even though I know that this is just a flashback, it felt so real. I could see the look in Mikes eyes and the pain surging through my body with each strike I saw him inflict on me. I closed my eyes tighter, afraid to open them and be back at home with Mike beating me. I could feel the fear run through my body, all the way to my fingertips. My body began to shake, desperate for a way back to reality.

broken stranger part-2 Link to next part.

#Sons of anarchy #chibs #imagine #SOA

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ruinedbynegan · 5 years

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Chapter 32

A/N: a wild update appears in its natural habitat. For real though, if you’re still reading this, let me know!

I gaped at him. “Lucille? Like the—“

“Yeah, like the bat,” he said, finishing my sentence. Before I could ask anything else, Negan continued, staring past me and recalling his past.

“Lucile was a good woman. She was so damn smart and funny as fuck. Hell, she was a pain in the ass sometimes too. But she got me through life, regular life, before this wolf thing. But I...I wasn’t good to her. I didn’t give her shit. I lied to her, I screwed around on her...and she still got me through. Until she got sick.”

“Cancer,” Negan sighed. “When I found out, I felt like an absolute fucking asshole and sorry excuse for a husband for doing that to her. So I stopped what I had been doing and stuck with her in that damn hospital room...until death did us part.”

I had the worst feeling at the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t due to the fact that Negan had a life before he met me, it was because of what he had been through, his pain. As he told me about his indiscretions, he had avoided making eye contact with me, ashamed of what he had done. I think a part of him thought I would reject him for learning that he had been previously unfaithful, but I didn’t. I had committed my own sins in my life and didn’t think it was fair for me to reject him when he accepted me so openly. So I listened. I knew that the price of his adultery was punishment enough, given everything that he had lost. His wife...and his humanity.

Without saying anything, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch so we could sit. He didn’t protest and followed behind me, sitting down and opening his arms as an invitation for me to move closer to him. I fell into his embrace, wrapping an arm around his torso and resting my head on his chest.

“What happened after?” I asked.

“After Lucille, I lost my shit. I quit my job because I couldn’t stand trying to be who I was before. I drank, I fucked, I did anything to stop thinking and feeling every damn thing. And then I got it in my head to come to California. Lucille and I had always joked about taking a trip to Hollywood and doing tourist shit. So I left Virginia. There wasn’t anything there for me anymore. When I came here, I was doing the same shit, drinking and fucking, wallowing in my own guilt. One night, I met some girl in a bar and went home with her. And she bit me. Hell, I thought it was just some kinky shit...but after I left, I started to feel it. I got to the crappy motel room I had been staying in and barely made it inside before I passed out.”

“I don’t remember much of the next few days. But I do remember the damn burning. Hell, it felt like I was burning alive, trapped in Satan’s ball sack. And when I woke up...I could see everything. The cracked wallpaper on the walls, the dirt stains on the carpet, every damn detail. I could smell everything, like the guy a few rooms down that smelled like a dead fuck. Everything was—“

“Heightened,” I supplied, feeling him nod.

“Yeah. For a minute, I thought that chick gave me some spidey senses or some shit. But then the full moon came. Goddamn, it hurt like a bitch that first time. It felt like I was dying, and when the pain got so bad and I said, “fuck it, just let me die” that’s when it happened. I learned after that first time that the less you fight it, the easier it is to turn. When I woke up in the middle of damn nowhere and naked as the day I was born, I realized that I wasn’t human. Not anymore. And knowing that after everything I lost...well, I started to come to terms with the fact that whatever made me human, fuck ups and all, died with Lucille. I wasn’t the same person. Shit, I wasn’t even a person anymore.”

“It took a couple of weeks, but when I turned the next time, I found other folks like me. They invited me to join them, so I did. I knew fuck all about being a werewolf, so I needed to be around people that knew what it was like. Their pack, if you can even call it that, was a fucking train wreck. They lived in the middle of the woods and scavenged for food like animals. It was a damn free for all, the guys doing whatever the fuck they wanted and whoever they wanted without consent. The women were fuckin’ terrified every minute of every damn day. And their alpha...he let that shit go down. He let his own people get raped and fucking killed. That shit was not cool with me.”

“So I challenged him for the title as alpha, and I won. It was the first time I killed someone, but I felt nothing for what I did to that sick fuck. I took over the pack and found us an actual place to live, even if it was just an abandoned factory. That’s when The Sanctuary started. The first thing I did was establish rules, because with us being the nearly extinct species that we were, the rules would keep the pack alive. At the beginning, people still fucked up. I had to come up with ways to make sure they didn’t break the rules. I also appointed a few of the guys as lieutenants, people who would enforce the rules, the Saviors. That was the point of it all. Saving people, saving what could be the last of the werewolves. It was all of us working together...but I made sure that everyone knew who the alpha was. So when some dick did something he wasn’t supposed to that put the safety of whole pack in jeopardy, he got the iron, a permanent reminder on his face of how badly he fucked up, or if he touched a woman without consent, his sentence was Lucille. And the bat...I named it after Lucille because I still needed a piece of her with me. To everyone else, it made me look like one tough and crazy fuck. Someone who wasn’t to be messed with. But it gave me the strength I needed to carry on in a world without her.”

“On top of the rules, I set up a point system, people working for points to earn whatever the hell they wanted.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, lifting my head. “Don’t the people in the pack have jobs?”

Negan looked down at me and shook his head. “They can’t live in the normal world like us, doll. See, you and me? We can control this shit, me because I’m the alpha and you because you’re just that bad ass. The others...hell, they don’t have any control over it. They turn whenever the fuck their wolf says to, even if it’s in the middle of the day. They couldn’t live a normal life no matter how hard they tried. Me and my lieutenants go on runs, get everyone what they need. Early on, I had met some guys that knew about our world and offered to help. So once every other week, we go pick up food and supplies from them.”

“In exchange for what?” I asked.

“Protection. There’s nothing like knowing that you have a pack of fucking werewolves looking out for you.”

“So do people leave the Sanctuary?” I asked, thinking back to the encounter that brought me to him.

He shrugged. “Not really. Those dipshits you ran into were an exception, some idiot that has since been reprimanded for his actions, sent them out to get booze. But the rest of them… I mean, they could leave if they really wanted to, but they’re not stupid. They know that without the pack and out in the real world, they would die. I keep them safe, keep them fed, give them a roof over their heads and a sense of purpose. Survival, that’s what matters to them. That’s why they stay.”

After hearing Negan’s procedures on how he ran The Sanctuary, I struggled with keeping my opinions to myself. I wanted to tell him that hurting people wasn’t necessary, that there had to be an alternative method for control. But I pushed those thoughts to the side, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, especially when they were in the beginning stages of being created. Instead, I thought back to the wives he had been exclusive with before me. The notion of marrying for protection seemed sound, especially given the pack’s history of assaulting women. I was also starting to understand why Negan had so many of them...it made sense, the alpha having multiple females at his disposal that were untouchable to the rest of the pack. Still, the idea of them made me uncomfortable, even with Negan’s apparent sworn interest in me alone.

Fingers swept across my cheek, bringing me out of my thoughts. I looked up at Negan and took him in. Despite the horrible things he had done, I could still see the good in him. I saw it with every smile, every look. I felt it radiating off him. While he may have had a fucked up way of working things out, he was striving to be better. To be good.

The silence lingered between us before I spoke. “I get it. I may not agree with how you handle things, but I get it.”

Negan looked down at me. “Let me ask you something. What would you have me do to the fucks who hurt other people?”

I was thrown off by his question, surprised that he was asking my opinion. “I don’t know. I just don’t think punishing someone the way you do is a good deterrent,” I paused. “Now let me ask you something. How many times have you had to use Lucille or the...iron?”

He shrugged dismissively. “More than a few. What can I say, people fuck up.”

I pulled back from him, moving up in his arms so we were eye level. “So then we need to come up with a way to make sure that people don’t fuck up that doesn’t involve mutilation or homicide.”

He sighed in a way that told me he was growing bored of this conversation. “What would you have me do, Carson?”

I thought for a moment and then remembered his words from earlier. “You said that survival is what’s important to them, right? And in order to survive, they need to be a part of the pack. So if someone breaks a rule...remove them from the pack. Exile them. It’s humane because you don’t get your hands or Lucille dirty, but you still get the message across. That’s what I would do. If I was in charge.”

Negan looked at me incredulously. “Son of a bitch. Not only are you a bad ass rocker chick, but you’re smart as shit! I have to admit, exile doesn’t involve the loss of any limbs or disfigurement, but something about it is just...daunting and scary as shit.”

I chuckled. “I’m glad you approve,” I said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Negan said, his voice serious. “I mean it. And the next time someone messes up, I’m going to give it a shot and see what happens. You did good, baby.”

“Did well,” I corrected. Maybe I did by offering him an alternative to burning half of someone’s face off.

“Whatever, Miss Smartypants,” he smirked at me. I allowed myself to lean back into his side, his arms wrapping tightly around me. I was silent, mostly thinking about everything I had just learned about Negan and the Sanctuary.

“You still want this?” Negan asked. I knew by his tone that a part of him thought that I would walk away from him. That I would reject him because he cheated on his wife, because he got a rise out of hurting people that broke rules. Any rational person would have kicked him out of their house.

Then again, I wasn’t that rational nowadays.

I said nothing, but pulled his face down to mine, kissing him for all I was worth. I tried to convey so much in that kiss—silently promising him that I wasn’t going anywhere, that despite everything, I still wanted this. Wanted him.

And that’s when I realized how completely fucked I was. Because somewhere in the depths of my soul, I had changed in a way that was irreversible and would linger in my being for the rest of my existence. And it was all because of Negan.

I could feel it, this connection to him. Every smile and moment we spent together was bringing me closer to him. Closer to who I was and who I should be.

And right now? I was getting closer to falling in love with Negan.

#negan #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead negan #twd negan #jeffrey dean morgan #negans thirst squad #negan x oc #negan x original female character #negan fanfiction #negan x carson

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