freaky eyebrows

The Joy and Life Inside Our Souls

For the 14 Days of Love Fic-a-thon hosted by @softkent

Also on AO3

Growing up, Ransom’s life was dictated for him. It hadn’t been intentional. The thought of planning gave him hives. So when his mom said why not be a doctor like your auntie, Ransom nodded dutifully. When his sister took up pottery for a week, he took it upon himself to take the rest of her classes at the community center by their house. When four of his cousins joined a local hockey league, Ransom followed suit. His family led him through a myriad of phases and interests.

At the end of the day, some of their ideas were truly inspired. Hockey, for instance, got him a student visa and a scholarship to Samwell. That’s where he met his best friends Lardo, Bitty and Chowder. He was also close to their goalie, Johnson. Mostly that was because he understood how to give Ransom a wide birth around exam time.

“Can’t let you drop out of college from stress,” Johnson chirped once.

Keep reading

Aiden- Hope Is Our Best Bet

Request-  Could you do one where y/n gets taken by the ghost riders, but she has an empathy link with Lydia (her best friend) so she knows what’s going on and everything but she’s stuck in the room.? (Sorry if it’s confusing idk what I’m saying myself)

A/N- It took me so long to write this tbh. I made it an Aiden imagine, and I hope you like it!

“Where ya going?”
You paused on the stairwell, glancing up at the head peeking over the railing two floors above you. Aiden was grinning down at you, and you suppressed an irritated groan at the site of his playful brown eyes.
In seconds, he was launching himself over the railing and landing on the steps in front of you with a  loud thump. You took a startled step back, eyeing his wild grin.
“You’re crazy,” you told him.
“It’s quicker than walking down.”
“You’re still crazy.”
You pushed past him, planning on heading down to the lobby of your apartment building alone, but he seemed to have a different idea. His helmet was tucked under his arm, and you knew he had planned on following you out. He only lived a couple floors above you, and the fact that he might have been listening for you to leave caused irritation to wash over you.
“Seriously, where are you going?” he asked, following behind.
“Aiden, you’re not my bodyguard,” you stated.
“Says who?” he asked.
“Says me!” you snapped. “I save your life once, and suddenly-”
“I still owe you.”
“You don’t.” You shook your head softly, turning back around to face him. The two of you paused on the stairs, with you staring up at him as he perched on the step above you.
“You saved me from that oni,” he reminded you. “You didn’t just save my life, you showed everyone that you were willing to die for me. You showed them I was a part of the pack too.”
“Well it’s not hard,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Scott takes in every stray supernatural creature in Beacon Hills.”
“Still,” he insisted. “I owe you. And I’m going to be right behind you until I return the favor. Even if you don’t know I’m there.”
You frowned. “Do you have any idea how creepy that sounds?”
“Well I didn’t until you said that…look, just tell me where you’re going.”
You huffed. “The school. Liam and Hayden found a dead body.”
“What?” Aiden demanded. “Why didn’t Scott call me?”
“He wanted to keep it quiet. The only people he told were Lydia, Malia, and Stiles, because they were already with him.”
“You felt it didn’t you?” he questioned. “Through Lydia?”
You nodded. “She was nervous. Then I called.”
Aiden shook his head in disbelief and leaned against the railing. “That empathy link thing is freaky.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Like you and Ethan’s twin mind-meld isn’t?”
Aiden shrugged. “At least that has a sort of normal explanation. Your thing is just weird.”
“Yeah, well, when you almost die on a lacrosse field with your best friend, it turns into a supernatural bonding experience.”
You rolled your eyes and turned away, but Aiden grabbed your arm. “Hey, look, I didn’t mean it like that. What you and Lydia have, it’s actually kind of cool. I just…I never know the right thing to say around you. I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
“Following me everywhere is not something I would call right…”
“I’m protecting you,” he said with a frown.
“I didn’t ask for you to. I mean, it’s not like I mind you crashing my movie nights or sitting next to me in every class we have, but you shouldn’t have to feel like you owe me.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because I don’t want you dying because of me. Allison already did.”
Despair washed over you as you thought back to that night at Oak Creek, when your best friend’s gentle hands had shoved you to the icy ground. You looked up just in time to see her take that blade for you, and you had spent every day since trying to repay her for her sacrifice. Saving Aiden had just been one of the ways you attempted that, and ever since, he had been following you around like a lost puppy.
He was always showing up at parties you attended, and offering you rides to places you were planning on walking to. He was right next to you during fights, or stakeouts, or even just dinner with the pack. You didn’t really mind him always being around, or even crashing on your bedroom floor when Ethan and Danny were being a little too loud for his liking. You just didn’t want him getting hurt because of you. You weren’t sure you could live with that happening again.
“Following you to the school isn’t going to get me killed,” Aiden pointed out. “Besides, the body’s already dead. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Fine,” you relented. “Just…stop following me everywhere, okay? You can ask to hangout if it makes you feel better.”
“Seriously?” he asked with a grin.
“Seriously,” you echoed, rolling your eyes once more. “Now let’s go.”
“Good thing I’ve got an extra helmet.”
You scoffed. “We are not taking the bike.”
“It’s faster,” he protested. “Besides, you don’t want to waste any time getting to Lydia, right?”
You frowned, and started to head down the stairs with a sigh. “If we die, it’s on you.”
“Of course it is,” he told you, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
He followed you out of the stairwell and into the quiet lobby. No one was there, save for a sleepy looking old woman shuffling to the elevator. You headed out into the warm night, but as you stepped outside, an eerie gust of wind blew past you.
Leaves drifted through the parking lot as you walked to Aiden’s motorcycle, and you frowned.
“What?” Aiden asked, glancing over at you. “Is it Lydia?”
“No,” you told him, shaking your head. “Just a weird feeling.”
He looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you, but he simply lifted up the seat and pulled out his spare helmet. As you went to take it from his hands, he completely ignored you and placed it on your head himself.
He adjusted it carefully, then lifted up the visor to reveal your frowning eyes. His lips twitched as he glanced down at you. “I think you look cute.”
“I think I’m capable of putting a helmet on by myself.”
Aiden rolled his eyes and sat down on his bike. “Come on.”
He put on his own helmet as you sat down behind him, and then reached out to grab your arms and wrap them around his waist. You tensed up, but he glanced back at you.
“You wanna fall off?” his muffled voice asked.
“No,” you grumbled, tightening your arms around his waist.
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. You’re getting something most women would kill for.”
“A chance to push you off this bike?” you snarked.
“A chance to have your arms around me.”
You rolled your eyes as he started up the bike, but you had to admit the rumble it let out was satisfying. You clung to the fabric of his leather jacket as you pulled out of the parking lot, and let yourself melt into him for the short ride to the school. He was warm, and a lot more comfortable than you thought he would be.
You had never said yes to a ride unless it was an emergency, and at those times, you had been so tense and nervous that you couldn’t think straight. Liam and Hayden finding the body probably counted as an emergency, but at this point you had found so many dead bodies that it didn’t freak you out as much as it used to.
Now, clinging to Aiden, you let yourself really appreciate the ride, and the fact that he was there with you.
You arrived at the school exhilarated, and when you both pulled off your helmets, Aiden turned around to grin at you.
“Am I dreaming, or did you actually enjoy that?”
“And what if I did?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Then I’m thinking I have to offer you rides more often.”
You tossed your helmet to him with another roll of your eyes and scanned the parking lot. Lydia was leaning against her toyota and talking to the Sheriff, and softly shaking her head.
“I’m gonna go talk to Lydia,” you explained to Aiden.
He got up to follow you, but with the look you shot him, he held up his hands and sighed. “I’ll go look for Scott.”
You smiled gratefully and turned your back on him, and you didn’t catch the way his gaze followed you as you moved across the parking lot. His brown eyes followed you like the moon followed the earth, like his entire world revolved around you.
He made a promise to himself that night you saved his life, one that he knew would keep him around until he returned the favor. But with all the time he spent around you, he couldn’t help but fall, and since he and Lydia had decided they were better as just friends, there was nothing stopping him. Well, nothing except your stubborn attitude and his inability to stop irritating you.
He never seemed to be able to say the right thing, and you were so caught up in protecting everyone else in that pack that you were often oblivious to normal everyday things, like when guys had crushes on you. Lydia had promised Aiden that all he had to do was admit his feelings, but something about you scared him.
He remembered a time when you had hated him, and when he had almost tried to kill you and all of your friends. It hadn’t been so long ago that he had worked for Deucalion, and he wasn’t sure if he had earned your trust completely. He didn’t want to ask without being sure, but as he watched you go with a wistful look in his eyes, he noticed Lydia staring at him.
She smirked, her eyes flicking between the two of you before she winked at him. She mouthed something, words that caused Aiden to glare at her. Tell her or I will.
She turned to give you a hug, and Aiden turned his back, but not before making himself one more promise. By the end of the night, he was going to admit how he felt. Lydia had a point, and with the chaos that seemed to be brewing in Beacon Hills, he wanted you to know before the town turned into a deathtrap again.

“You know, you’ve got to stop doing this,” Lydia told you as you leaned against her car. The Sheriff had finished talking to her minutes ago, and he was now headed back into the school behind Aiden.
“Doing what?” you asked.
“Freaking out when you feel something from me.”
You rolled your eyes. “I can’t help it. When you’re nervous, I’m nervous. And if something’s wrong, you should tell me.”
Lydia sighed. “Normally I would, but you’ve been happier than usual lately.”
You scoffed. “I’ve been happier than usual?”
“Yep!” she confirmed. “And it’s all because of Aiden.”
“W-what?” you choked. “Lydia-”
“Aha!” she cried. “You denied it. That means it’s true. You do have feelings for him.”
“No,” you insisted stubbornly. “He’s just always around. I mean, yes, I like him. He’s cool, but I just spend so much time with him…”
“Mmhm,” Lydia mused. “I just don’t want this freaky connection pulling you away from what really matters.”
“As much as you want to keep us all safe, you need to think about yourself sometimes. You need to be happy too.”
“Lydia, I am,” you promised. “I am happy.”
She smiled. “I know. Which is why I really want this to happen for you. And, when that time comes, this is for you.”
She rooted through her purse and tossed you a tiny foil packet, which sailed through the air toward you. You tried to catch the condom, but ended up fumbling and causing it to fall onto the pavement.
“Lydia!” you hissed. “What the hell?”
“What?” she demanded. “He’s hot as hell, and he’s got a lot of drive, I can promise you-”
“Don’t tell me!” you cried, cutting her off. “Jesus, aren’t I supposed to figure that out on my own?”
Lydia smirked, her pink-painted lips curling up. “You are. Go ahead and pick it up. It’s yours now.”
You huffed and knelt down, but as you reached for the condom. You noticed a shadow fall across the pavement on the other side of her car. You grabbed the packet just as four legs came into view, and your brows contorted in confusion when you saw the unmistakable hooves of a horse.
“Y/n?” Lydia asked, staring down at you with raised eyebrows. “Are you alright?”
“I…” You rose to the ground, tucked the condom into your jeans and then peeked around the side, but there was nothing but asphalt on the other side of her car. “What?”
“What?” Lydia echoed, staring in confusion as you dropped down to all fours and peered under the car again. This time there was nothing there.
“Nothing,” you told her, rising to your feet and dusting off your hands. “I thought I saw something. I think I’m just-”
“Hey, watch who you’re calling crazy,” you told her. “I’m not the one who ran naked through the woods.”
She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at you. “I’m not the one who punched Gavin Johnson in the face the day after we got back from the attack.”
“He asked you if you would take your clothes off and run around for him,” you reminded her.
She sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “One of these days, I’m going to be the one saving you. Not the other way around.”
You gave her a gentle squeeze. “You better be quick about it. We don’t have much time left.”
She looked over at you, her green eyes staring into yours. “What am I going to do without you?”
“I don’t know,” you said softly. “But we don’t have to think about it until later. For now, I’m right by your side, ready to punch anyone and everyone in the face for you.”
She laughed softly and squeezed your arm. “Come on. Let’s head inside and see what’s after us now.”
You smiled and walked by her side toward the blue double doors, thinking that you had no idea what you would do when she was away at MIT. Lydia was your best friend, and since the moment you had been attacked on that field with her, you were bonded. That kind of thing didn’t just go away, and you knew you were going to be left wondering what to do when you felt something wrong with the other and were a whole country apart.
You pushed the thought out of your mind, telling yourself that you didn’t have to think about that yet. Lydia would be by your side for another few months, and everything would be fine. But as you headed into the school, that view of the horse behind her car crossed your mind, and you suddenly felt like maybe something was coming. Maybe college separating the two of you was the least you had to worry about.

“What happened?” you whispered to Aiden, as you glanced into the bloody closet. Bright flashes came from inside, no doubt the crime scene photographers capturing every gruesome detail.
“Someone bit out the back of his skull,” Aiden told you softly.
“Bit?” you choked. “As in with teeth?”
Aiden shrugged. “I could do it if I really wanted to.”
You eyed him carefully and he huffed. “Not like I would.”
“Why bite out the back of the skull?” you wondered aloud, shifting as you leaned against a locker. “Why not slit his throat, or stab him or something?”
Aiden shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t want to use his claws. If he was an alpha, he might not have wanted to turn him.”
You thought for a moment. “Why him? He’s just a janitor, right?”
“Maybe he’s not,” he suggested. “I mean, what sane person would ever take a night job here?”
“True,” you remarked, running your fingers over the metal of the lockers.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” you told him, looking up into his brown eyes.
Aiden pursed his lips, glancing around the busy hall. Scott and Stiles were talking quietly as they stared at the officers passing by, and Lydia was pestering Liam and Hayden for more details. She was taking in every detail of the scene, but Aiden knew she didn’t feel anything, because you would have felt it too.
“Not here,” he said eventually, tilting his head down the hall. “Come with me.”
You followed him through the noisy hall to a quieter one, and then he pushed open the doors of the library. “Aiden, is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he assured you. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay…” you said cautiously.
“Don’t worry.”
“You know when you say that, it makes me want to worry.”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, I think you realize how much I’ve been hanging around you…”
“How could I not?” you asked him.
Aiden shot you a look, and then he smirked. “It’s not like you don’t like it.”
You swallowed. “Oh yeah? How do you know that?”
“Come on, it’s not like I can’t see the way you look at me.”
“Like I want to kill you?”
“No,” he said, taking a step toward you. “Like you want to kiss me.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” you said. “Did Lydia put you up to this?”
“No,” he repeated. “I put me up to this. Finally.”
“Finally?” you repeated.
He nodded. “I’ve been waiting to say this, but I never found the right way to do it. But that doesn’t matter, because I’ve been feeling this since we kissed at Scott’s birthday party.”
“Th-that wasn’t-”
“I felt something,” he insisted. “And I know you were drinking, but you felt it too, and it wasn’t the tequila.”
You swallowed. “Aiden…”
“I know you’re scared of losing the people you love. But I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. If you let me, or even if you don’t, I’m always going to be right here.”
Your throat seemed to dry out as you opened your mouth to respond, and you stared at him in shock. A nervous warmth spread through you, and Aiden smiled as a blush covered your cheeks.
“So is that a yes?”
You took a deep breath, but before you could respond, you saw a flicker of movement farther back in the library. You glanced over Aiden’s shoulder, and he raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“I saw something.”
“Y/n, come on. You can’t just avoid the-”
“No, seriously,” you cut him off. “I saw something earlier too. I think it has something to do with that boy who went missing.”
“Okay…what did you see?”
“I…I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“Well that’s helpful.”
“I’m sure it has something to do with-”
A loud whinnying from behind caused your blood to run cold, and you whirled around to see just what you had in the parking lot. Instead of just the legs, a full-grown horse stood before you, and on its back rode a man dressed in all black. He had a hat perched on his head, but you could make out his shadow of a face, and the melted, deformed sight caused you to gasp.
“Y/n?” Aiden asked, placing a hand on your back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You-you don’t see it?” you asked, eyes still on the rider and his horse.
“What do you see?”
“A man on a horse,” you told him.
“What?” he demanded. “Is this a banshee thing? Does Lydia see it too?”
“I don’t know,” you breathed, grabbing his hand. “Come on, run!”
You lead him through the shelves of the library, pulling out your phone and dialing your best friend’s number. She picked up right away, and you heaved a sigh of relief. “Hello?”
“Lydia,” you breathed. “God, please tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”
“What?” you heard her ask. “Who is this?”
“Wh-what?” you asked breathlessly. “Lydia, it’s me. It’s Y/n.”
“Y/n?” she questioned skeptically. “Sorry. I think you’ve got the wrong girl.”
“Wait, Lydia-”
But it was too late. She was already hanging up the phone, and Aiden was staring down at you in confusion. “What was that about?”
“She didn’t know me,” you stated weakly.
“What?” he asked. “How is that possible?”
“I think it has something to do with that kid and his parents,” you whispered quickly. “When the cops went to his house, it looked abandoned, but when Stiles went inside, the kid’s room looked like any normal bedroom. It was the only room like that in the house.”
“Wait, what kid?” Aiden asked.
“Oh god. You’re already starting to forget.”
“Forget what? Y/n, what’s going on?”
“Listen to me,” you whispered, grabbing his hands in yours. “You’re going to forget me. That’s what’s happening here. People are being taken, and they’re being erased.”
“From memories?” he asked. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” you told him. “It is, and it’s going to happen to me.”
“What? No,” he insisted. “I won’t let-”
“It’s too late,” you said softly, flashing him a sad smile. “I’ve already seen them. I saw the horse in the parking lot. And I could see it when you couldn’t. They’re coming for me. Maybe someone else too. Just promise me something-”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he snarled, scanning the dark library. “I’d die before I let anyone hurt you.”
“Please, just promise me,” you begged, tears filling your eyes. “You’ve spent so much time protecting me, but I need you to make sure the others are okay. Especially Lydia. Just protect them for me, okay?”
“Y/n, please-”
“Promise!” you ordered, your voice breaking. “Please.”
“Okay, I promise. But I made a promise to protect you. And that’s one I’m going to keep. No matter what happens, I’ll remember you, and I’ll find you. I’m not letting you go.”
You reached up to place a hand on his wet cheek, and only then did he realize he was crying. He stared down at your broken smile, and wanted nothing more than to whisk you out of Beacon Hills, to take you away from the danger, but he knew he was out of time.
You took one shaky breath, just as the sound of spurred boots hit your ears. Aiden didn’t see it or hear it, and he didn’t realize what was happening. You snatched him by the shirt and yanked his lips onto yours, kissing him for a few blissful seconds. His lips enveloped yours, lighting your body on fire and ripping your heart in two with the realization that you might never feel this again.
You broke the kiss suddenly, and scraped together one last broken smile.
“No,” he protested. “How the hell am I supposed to let you go after that?”
“You have to,” you whispered, just as a gunshot from the rider’s gun echoed through the library.
In a puff of green smoke, you disappeared from Aiden’s arms, and he swore he felt it in his chest when you went. Slowly, the electric feel of your lips on his, the memory of your terrified whisper, and even your broken eyes all disappeared.
Aiden stood there, trying to find a way to fight the ache in his chest, until he finally forgot the reason it was there at all.

Lydia stood against a row of lockers, holding her textbook and glancing around the hallway self-consciously. The bell was about to ring, and as students cleared the halls, she realized that whoever she was supposed to be meeting wasn’t going to show.
“You feel it too don’t you?” a voice asked from behind her.
She whirled around, causing her braid to swing over her shoulder. Aiden was leaning against the lockers down the hall to her left, and she kicked herself for not even realizing he was there.
“What do you mean?” she asked, as he walked up to her.
“Something’s missing. I feel it. And you do too.”
She frowned. “I was sure I was supposed to meet someone. Maybe even more than one person, but…I don’t think they’re coming.”
“I pulled out an extra helmet this morning,” Aiden told her. “For someone who didn’t show up.”
“Ethan maybe?” she suggested.
“Ethan has his own. And there’s nothing wrong with his bike. I even went back up and asked.”
Lydia pursed her lips. “Maybe we should talk to Scott.”
“And tell him what?” he asked. “That we’re losing our minds?”
Lydia thought back to a distant memory, one she couldn’t quite place but knew she had experienced. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Lydia walked into her room and dropped her bag on the ground, wanting nothing more than to collapse into her sheets and pillows. It had been days since her and Aiden had talked to Scott, since they had found out they were missing someone, or maybe a few someones. She wasn’t sure if she could take another day of this painful, hollow feeling in her chest, the one that told her something was wrong and she might never be able to fix it.
She kicked off her heels without bothering to change into pajamas, and crawled under the covers. As she closed her eyes, trying to drift off to sleep, she found herself drifting somewhere else, as if she was someone else.
“Lydia!” you choked, lunging forward with a bloody hand.
A dark boot slammed down on your wrist, pinning it to the lacrosse field and crushing the grass. You let out a cry of pain, and looked up at the figure standing above you. You gave him a defiant look, despite the fact that he seemed to be crushing your wrist.
He took his boot off your wrist and flicked out his fingers, revealing nails that were insanely long. When you thought about it more, you realized that they were claws. They were already stained red with Lydia’s blood, and as much as you wanted to stay strong and protect her, you were about to black out too.
Before you slipped away, you reached out for Lydia’s hand with trembling fingers. You had just barely placed your bloody hand in hers before you completely passed out.

Lydia sat up in bed with a choked scream, swiping at herself and frantically trying to wipe the blood from her hands. It took her a few seconds to realize that the blood she had seen wasn’t real, that the horrifying moment on the lacrosse field had been nothing more than a bizarre vision.
“Lydia!” her mother cried, shoving open her bedroom door. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I…there was blood all over me,” she whispered. “I was on the lacrosse field and I was covered in blood.”
Mrs. Martin sighed. “Lydia it was just another nightmare.”
“But, mom-”
“Sweetheart, what happened to you was a terrifying experience,” she told her soothingly. “They never found who attacked you, so it’s perfectly normal for you to be afraid. It was just a terrible memory working it’s way to the surface through a bad dream. Now, don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be fine.”
She flashed Lydia a reassuring smile and shut the door, but after she was gone, Lydia shook her head in confusion.
“But I wasn’t asleep,” she whispered to herself.
She leaned back into her pillows and rolled over, pulling the covers up around her shoulders. She couldn’t deny this terrible feeling she had, and she knew the dream, or hallucination, or whatever it was meant something. She also knew that there was something odd about what she had seen.
All the reports stated that Lydia was alone when she had been attacked. She hadn’t remembered much of anything, including who her attacker was, but something about this didn’t seem right to her…especially because moments ago, when she was so sure she was on the field, she swore she felt a hand in hers. She didn’t care what her mother or the reports said. She knew someone had been with her.

“Someone was with you that night?” Scott asked, his eyebrows furrowing at Lydia as he stood in front of her locker.
Scott was the first one she had come to after her nightmare the night before, but Lydia was sure it had been something much more than a product of her imagination. She had been having one almost every night. Sometimes it was a bizarre memory that felt like it was missing a piece, and sometimes it was something entirely new.
Only a few nights ago, she was sitting up in bed when she heard the sound of a train passing through the room. Just like the night before, she was sure that it hadn’t been a dream, and she knew it meant something.
“Yes,” she told Scott.. “I’m sure of it. Maybe it has something to do with who we’re missing. With Stiles or…or maybe it was someone else. It felt different. No, I’m sure. It was someone different..Wait, who found me that night?”
“It was Jackson, wasn’t it?” Scott offered.
Lydia blinked. What Scott was saying would have made sense, but something about it felt wrong. “No.”
“But, Lydia, he carried you in,” Scott stated. “Everyone was talking about it. I remember that.”
“Well…maybe he carried me inside,” she agreed. “But he wasn’t the one who found me. And he definitely wasn’t on that field with me. Someone was holding my hand Scott. Someone who was also covered in blood.”
Scott raised his eyebrows. “You think someone else was attacked with you?”
“There had to be,” she whispered.
“How would we know?” he asked. “I mean, we can see if any of the responding deputies remember, but if the Ghost Riders are taking memories, they’re only going to remember you, not this girl.”
Lydia frowned for a few moments, but her eyes suddenly went wide. “But there’s something that will.”
“What?” Scott asked.
“Hospital records” Lydia told him. “Just like the ones we found about Claudia. I’m sure that whoever was on the field that night was  just as hurt as I was, if not more. She had to have been brought in the same time I was.”
“She?” Scott repeated. “How are you so sure it’s a girl?”
“I…I don’t know,” Lydia said softly. “I don’t know why I just said that…but I feel like it’s right.”
Scott nodded. “Okay. We can start with my mom. I’m sure she’d let us look at the records.”
“What are we waiting for?” Lydia asked. “Let’s go.”
Scott blinked. “Lydia, we can’t just leave. Your mom would kill us.”
“I don’t care,” she hissed. “We’re finding whoever was on the field with me that night. We have to. And we’re calling Aiden. He can meet us there.”
Scott sighed and looked down the hall. Kids were still flowing down the hall to different classes, and the usual chaos in the school hadn’t seemed to stop because of a few disappearances. If they wanted to leave without being seen, now was the time to do it.
“Come on,” Scott said, reaching forward to shut Lydia’s locker. “We’re going to find her.”

You sat on the bench beside Stiles, your leg bouncing up and down as you glanced around the train station. Your eyes landed on Peter Hale, who was sitting a few rows down and looking bored out of his mind. When he felt your eyes on him, he glanced over, and you glared.
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding your accusing expression. You still hadn’t forgiven him for attacking you that night, and you weren’t sure you ever would.
“Do you think he’s right?”
“What?” Stiles asked.
“Peter,” you elaborated. “Do you think he’s right when he says that we’re already forgotten? That we don’t exist anymore?”
“We have to exist,” he stated. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
“But where’s here?” you questioned. “Maybe we’re dead. Maybe this is hell.”
Stiles scoffed. “Okay, now I may not be perfect, but I never thought I’d end up in the same place as Peter Hale when I died.”
“Okay, so maybe we’re not dead. We’re not living anymore either, though.”
“We’re forgotten,” Stiles said grimly. “Not dead, not alive, forgotten.”
You placed your chin in your hands, and stared out at the grim scene before you. No one else seemed to be snapping out of their trance, and since the guy who been incinerated by the barrier a few hours before was literally dust, it was just you, Stiles and Peter.
“They have to find us,” Stiles whispered. “They have to.”
“Maybe we should try to get the radio working again,” you suggested.
Stiles shook his head. “Ghost Riders smashed that thing to pieces. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“Great,” you said. “So what do we do now?”
“Wait to die?” he offered.
“No thanks,” you told him, thinking for a moment. “I kissed Aiden.”
“What?” Stiles demanded. “When?!”
“The night we were taken,” you said softly. “He was trying to tell me how he felt when I saw the rider in the library.”
“How did he not see it?”
“I saw the horse in the parking lot earlier. Lydia tossed a condom at me and when I bent down to pick it up, I saw it on the other side of the car. He came into the library to take me.”
Stiles snorted. “You’re here because of a condom?”
You smiled. “Apparently so. You can thank Lydia for that one.”
“Was it supposed to be for Aiden?”
“What do you think?”
“Hey, I’m just asking…you like him that much?”
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I mean, he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s changed a lot.”
“Yeah, ‘cause of you.”
You looked over at Stiles. “Really?”
He nodded. “When you saved his life that night, it changed him. After that, he only cared about you. And yeah, at first it was because you saved his life and he wanted to return the favor, but all that time he spent around you…”
“Huh,” you murmured. “I guess you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“You were worrying about other things,” Stiles said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I know the feeling.”
You glanced over at him again. “Lydia, huh? Even after all these years?”
He nodded, and you reached out to place your hand on his shoulder. “If we ever get back, you might not have to wait much longer.”
His lips turned up in a sad smile. “I saw her that night too. She was the last person to remember me.”
“She remembered you?” you asked thickly.
“Yeah,” he whispered fondly. “Up until the very last moment.”
“She didn’t even know who I was. I’m connected to her, and she didn’t even know who I was.”
“Hey, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“What if it does, Stiles? What if it means that she’s not going to remember?”
“Maybe she won’t,” he relented. “But Aiden will.”
“You sure about that?”
“No,” he admitted. “But it’s all we’ve got right now. And until Scott and the others figure out how to get us out, hope is our best bet.”
You nodded and leaned back against the bench, telling yourself that maybe, just maybe, Aiden would remember you. He promised you he wouldn’t let you go, and you hoped to every god there was that he could keep that promise.

“Come on,” Melissa hissed.
She hastily pulled Scott, Lydia, and Aiden into the file room, shutting the door behind her. She turned back to the teens before her, and felt a pang of sympathy as she met their desperate eyes.
“We have to do this quickly,” she explained. “But I looked up the details you sent me. Only one patient matched them.”
Lydia held her breath as Melissa unlocked one of the filing cabinets. She ran her fingers over the manila folders and fished one out, and Lydia practically snatched it out of her hands.
Her eyes fell on the name of the patient, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Y/n Y/l/n.
As soon as she saw the name, everything hit her at once. She remembered standing in that parking lot with you, arms around your shoulders, wondering how she was going to spend four years without you. She remembered how when Allison died, when she felt like she had no one, you were there by her side. She even remembered that night on the lacrosse field, how when Peter tried to tear her to pieces, you were standing in his way.
Aiden felt it too. Lydia whispered the name, without even realizing it, and that was all it took for him to remember. He remembered you standing in the library with your hand on his cheek, trying to fight your own tears as his streamed freely down his face. He remembered the feel of your lips on his, and how he would have given just about anything to kiss you again.
Most importantly, he remembered the way you had come between him and that Oni the night he almost died. That was the moment he had really truly seen you, and the moment that first caused him to fall for you. He had been falling ever since.
“We have to get her back,” Lydia choked. “Her and Stiles.”
“We will,” Aiden swore. “If I have to kill every ghost rider there is, I’ll do it.”
Scott swallowed, glancing down at the file in Lydia’s hands. He knew how much Aiden loved you, and he knew he meant what he said. They were going to get you back, no matter what it took, and seeing the look on Aiden’s face when he saw you again would make it all worth it for Scott.

All across the field, people were beginning to appear. Hundreds of shapes lay on the drenched grass, slowly waking up as a cool rain fell from the sky. You sat up, shoving yourself up from the wet grass just as Stiles rose to his feet next to you.
“We’re back,” you breathed.
“We’re back,” he confirmed, reaching forward to pull you into a tight hug.
You clapped him on the back and pulled away, glancing up at the rain shimmering in the lacrosse field lights. “You think they’ll be here?”
“Stiles!” a voice shouted, causing you two to turn. “Y/n!”
A flash of strawberry blonde hair was all you could make out in the blur of the rain, but you could tell it was Lydia was sprinting down the field as if her life depended on it.
“I think they already are,” Stiles told you with a grin.
She slammed into Stiles, barreling into his arms only to have him wrap them around her.
“I knew you would remember,” he murmured her, running a hand over her hair. “I knew.”
She nodded mutely, tears slipping from her green eyes as she looked up at him. You stepped away from them, giving them their moment, and grinned as their lips met in a kiss. You could practically feel Allison smiling at you from wherever she was. Hell, you could practically hear her. I told you so.
“Y/n! Stiles!” you heard another familiar voice call out.
You turned to see Scott and Malia running down the field, and it took them seconds to wrap their arms around you. Scott got you first, pulling you into his arms, and Malia came last, tackling you both to the wet ground in a crushing hug.
“Malia,” you choked. “Good to see you too.”
She finally rolled off of you and held out a hand to help you up. “I’m sorry I forgot you.”
“Me too,” Scott told you. “God, it’s insane to think that it was actually possible. Now that you’re here…it doesn’t feel real.”
“You can thank Stiles and Lydia for that,” you told them. “Even in different dimensions, those two are still a perfect team.”
Scott smiled and glanced back at the couple, before placing his hand on your shoulder. “I should go talk to Stiles. You did good, Y/n. Allison would have been proud.”
You flashed him a grateful smile and turned to Malia. “So, what did I miss?”
“Everything,” she told you. “I don’t even know what to say first…oh, wait! Yes, I do. Remember how you thought that if you brushed Aiden off he would stop bothering you?”
“Uh, yeah,” you told her.
“Well it didn’t work,” she informed you. “He was torn up because he was missing something. He said if he had to kill every ghost rider just to get you back, he would.”
“For me?” you blinked. “Really?”
She nodded. “He lost it when you left.”
“I think he loves you, Y/n,” Malia told you. “And I think you should stop pushing him away.”
You smiled. “Trust me, Malia, I already know.”
“Y/n!” a voice shouted, causing you to turn for the third time that night.
You brushed a strand of sopping wet hair out of your face, and saw Aiden running toward you through the rain. You met him halfway, crashing into his arms, and the slick leather of his jacket.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed into your wet hair. “I forgot you. You saved my life and I forgot you.”
“It’s okay,” you said, pulling away to look at him. “You remembered.”
Tears were streaming down your face and mixing with the rain, but Aiden reached up to touch your cheek. “You were right before.”
“When?” he asked.
“In the library. When you told me I felt something for you, that I was just scared. You’re right. I was scared. And it wasn’t the tequila I was scared of.”
Aiden grinned, and leaned down, cupping your face as he kissed you. He leaned into you eagerly, and you looped your arms around your neck, yanking him closer. His fingers threaded through your hair, and when he finally pulled his lips from yours, you were both breathing hard.
“I…I love you so much,” he breathed, tracing his thumb over your cheek.
You grinned and reached up to push some slick hair out of his eyes. “Me too…me too.”
He wrapped his arms around you once more, holding you in the rain. He didn’t know what would happen to Beacon Hills after the disappearance of the Ghost Riders. It seemed like something always did, no matter how hard you fought, but he knew one thing. He was never letting you go again.

anonymous asked:

ya know,last night after reading WTL for the third time (this is the best story btw) i had a dream where all the captains and lieutenants in WTL (even the one Hisana never met)are watching an anime about Hisana as naruto (like she is the kyubi jinchuriki and how the villagers treat her to the fourth great ninja war or something) and omg i wish somebody would write a fanfiction about it like Byakuya's reaction would be :How dare they treat her like that she is only a kid. or something like that

Huh, that’s an…interesting dream. Although with Hisana being someone who generally has a very low tolerance for bullshit, she’d definitely call the villagers out on their behavior. For example:

Hisana (to asshole shopkeeper): Honestly, it’s a wonder you’re still in business if this is the kind of service I can expect. Tell me, do you always sell your customers rotten vegetables? No? So I’m a special case then…I see. Trying to take advantage of an orphaned child by selling them rotten merchandise, huh? Wow…tell me, what does it feel like to sink that low?

Hisana (to asshole parents): Really? Calling me names, now? What would you do if someone treated your child the same way you treat me? And you have the gall to call yourself a good parent?

Hisana (to asshole medic): Refusing to treat a child? It’s a wonder you ever became a medic with that kind of attitude. *cracks knuckles* Allow me to pound your oaths back into your head then, since you appear to have forgotten them. Don’t worry, I’ll patch you up afterwards– unlike some people I could name, I am a professional. 

After that, I imagine watching her childhood would be like the thrilling saga of Hisana adopting any lonely people nearby, which consists of most of the shinobi population. 

“Why is she leaving food out on the windowsill? Oh wait, there’s a note… ‘To the masked nin who apparently have nothing better to do than stalk a six year old, you’re giving me hives with how pathetic you look sitting in the rain like that. So out of the goodness of my heart, I’ve decided to offer you something to eat. Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned.’”

“Did she really have to start hanging out with that freaky eyebrow kid? Like out of all the people she could have chosen to befriend…”

“At least that Itachi kid seems sensible.”

“Wait, never mind.”

“Damn, she can eat a lot of ramen. Kudos to her though, for managing to guilt that gray haired kid into paying for it.”

“Interesting rivalry she’s got going on with that Uchiha kid. I admit, I’m pretty impressed that she managed to break him out of his funk…although I’m less impressed that the method she used to do it was to insist that ‘tomatoes suck.’ Still, at least she’s not a fangirl.” 

a day in december: traditions

on ao3

@sitting-in-thee-corner​ said something about chugging hot chocolate and i just ran with it

i love the classmates but whenever i write them it turns into a weird meme-y shitpost also definitely not my best work but considering i’m writing a fic a day i’m giving myself a little slack for this month

ITS LATE BUT I WAS REALLY BUSY (and then had a lovely hour long conversation with a very very tired and slightly delusional @zoenightstars​) AND WAS UP TILL 3 AM YESTERDAY IT STILL COUNTS OK ITLL BE FINE

Adrien tilts his head and stares at his classmates, who are all crowded around the teacher’s desk. Alix and Kim trash talk each other loudly as Nathanael stands on a chair and scribbles on the chalkboard. Chloé raises an eyebrow when she sees Adrien by the door before Nathanael taps on her head. She scowls and swats him away. Sabrina hands him another color of chalk. Max is saying something about odds and Ivan is nodding along like he understand as Nino listens with a glazed eyes.

Alya joins Adrien in the doorway. She purses her lips. “Hm…”

He frowns. “Do you…?”

She shakes her head. “Not a clue.”

“Uh, guys? Can I get through?”

They turn to see Marinette standing behind them. She gives them a half smile, arms wrapped around a large box from the bakery.

“Do you need any help?” Adrien offers.

She shakes her head, her bangs falling into her eyes. She makes a face and blows them away before saying. “I don’t haul flour bags around all day for nothing.” She tightens her grip on the box and holds it with one arm, showing off her muscles by flexing her free arm.

Keep reading

… right under mY EYEBROWS

Someone stop m e

Long trich talk lolol

Ok I’ve never blogged about this before (I think, maybe I talked about it on deviantart back in the day for like a journal or something, but to my memory I never discussed this in depth anywhere) but trichotillomania and derma-whatever (skin picking) have been such huge shitty parts of my life for so long. Like literally since I can remember, but I think it got bad when I was about 10 or 11 or so. Basically I rip my eyelashes n eyebrows out and tear apart my lips like there’s no tomorrow, though I’ve gotten slightly better w my lips and slightly WORSE w my eyebrows thru the years. I’ve done a few school related projects on this so I’m p current with it. It basically stems from anxiety and stress, and can develop into a habit. So even if the stress/anxiety factors go away, the behavior is so ingrained in you that you keep doing it just for the fuck of it.

Something I leaned that really freaked me out was that certain animals display the animal-equivalent of these behaviors. Parrots frequently rip out their feathers if kept in poor shitty stressful conditions, and dogs/chimps and other intelligent mammals rip at their fur (p sure lab rats can develop this too). I guess it freaked me out cause animals develop these conditions under HIGH levels of stress - so how much fucking needless stress and anxiety must people be going through in this shitty modern corporate world we live in that we develop the same behavioral conditions as fucking caged lab animals. There’s also some evidence that suggests that those w trich’s hair follicle nerves r a bit fucked up? Like ripping out an eyelash or whatever should send a pure pain signal but with some lucky folk it sends an “ooh that felt kinda weird and maybe nice in a whacky way, but def not all pain”. So it becomes easier to form a habit from it.

I’ve tried to kick this shit more times than I can count and eventually just gave up. I got p good with eyeliner and brow makeup, beat up lips aren’t too bad cause you can just use the “chapped lips” excuse, and they heal faster than other areas of skin so nbd. But to most people u look pretty damn freaky without eyebrows/lashes (bc it’s way harder to read expressions without eyebrows and it freaks people out in a weird unsettling way. Why do u think they took the jokers brows off in the suicide squad movie).

Explaining it used to be a bitch cause my self esteem was 0 (partially attributed to my trich), but once I got out of highschool and got better w self confidence I found its way easier to just be up front w people about it. Like I’m usually straight up “oh yeah lol I don’t have eyelashes bc I rip them out haha how weird is that” or “yeah I just don’t have any eyebrows so I have to paint them on lol sucks huh”. But if u approach it w confidence and humor people will be less awkward about it. Idk they may lean in and inspect you but just go with it an realize that if this person is a potential friend then they won’t give a shit, and if they r freaked out then FUCK EM. I’ve never had a problem tho, people don’t care as much as you think, something I wish I’d realized back when I was way younger.

And as much as I hate this shit, I really have a lot of my current artistic qualities to thank for it, since my obsession w drawing basically stemmed from trich. I’ve always been quick to churn out sketches, something I didn’t realize until I met more artists IRL and they were like “how the fuck u so fast.” But basically I got so fast bc I was literally sketching all the time at school, bc it was a way less destructive way to keep my hands busy cause otherwise they would rip my face apart. Like I’d literally sketch on every available sheet of paper to preoccupy my hands like I’d fill an 8x11 sketchbook in a couple weeks. This is literally the only bright side I’ve found to my trich. And when u sketch all the time u improve techniques faster since you can practice them with greater efficiency. Idk where my art would be now if I didn’t use art as a distraction. Prolly way shittier idk.

So yeah I hate it and I have 0 eyelashes/brows and my lips are shredded 50% of the time BUT AT LEAST I CAN DRAW FAST LOL. That’s it haha now u know a bit more about me tehe.