how are your eyes even real

I know I’m just an old timer but kids, if you’re out there protesting, for the love of god, don’t check in on facebook, don’t text to random numbers claiming to want to know how many people were there. They know, they don’t need you to text. All they want is your number and personal data so they can keep an eye on you. You are not as anonymous online as you think you are, even if you are not using your real name.

Just…take care of yourselves, and don’t give the authorities any ammunition against you. They have enough fire power as it is.

Also if you’re uploading pics from marches, please be considerate of those involved. If you don’t have express permission to take the picture of everyone involved in the image, blur out their faces. You don’t know who is watching and what kind of shit you might land someone in just because you wanted to post a selfie of you in your pink hat. 

What It Means To Love Someone With Depression And Anxiety

By: Lexi Herrick @huffingtonpost

1. It’s experiencing raw humility and friendship, as you face both of your deepest weaknesses and most exhilarating capabilities with one another.

2. It’s the ability to value human beings for their complexities, strengths and beautiful differences.

3. It’s a change that happens inside of you. This transcends past your intimate relationships and moves into your overall interactions and understandings of others. It makes you see people with your heart, not your eyes.

4. It’s giving someone’s feelings validity, even if you don’t understand them.

5. It’s a complete and utter release of social stigma. It’s realizing just how real mental illness is from a first-hand perspective, and choosing to respect that in every way.

6. It’s knowing when someone is so lost and irrational that they aren’t the person you care about at that moment. It’s forgiving them for that confusing and scary reality.

7. It’s understanding how small actions can so deeply impact those you love in a positive or negative way. It’s having those effects magnified and exasperated in a way that illuminates your power to do good and evil.

8. It’s being able to tell the difference between speaking to an episode and speaking to someone you love.

9. It’s understanding the trials of an illness. Illnesses involve medicine, lifestyle adjustments and a responsibility to take care of yourself in a way that others don’t understand. Loving someone with mental illness means honoring it the same you would another health issue.

10. It’s exercising patience, compassion and perspective.

11. It’s learning difficult lessons, like knowing when to give someone space and when to hold on with all you have.

12. It’s being conscious of your own well-being too. It’s being able to know your limitations, and when someone you love requires help from someone else too.

13. It’s realizing that mental illness comes in all forms and degrees. It’s respecting all levels of it.

14. It’s overcoming frustrating and painful roadblocks. It’s identifying solutions and having difficult conversations that can also teach you about yourself.

15. It’s knowing that the person you love is remarkable and irreplaceable, despite the pieces of themselves they fight the most. It’s embracing and adoring another human being the way they deserve to be loved. It’s strength, kindness, maturity, fearlessness and passion.

Larries who can admit they have been wrong all this time and apologise for it are way stronger than Larries who are already back to making theories on Harry being at the X Factor, Louis’ shirt and the pap pics of Harry taken when Jay died. I really don’t know what else has to happen to make you realise Larry isn’t real. Freddie didn’t change your mind, but that even this doesn’t stop you from hurting Louis even more, I don’t get it.

Yesterday, Louis didn’t even say anything, just listened to what Simon said about his mum and he already was so close to crying. How can you watch that and then go online and speculate about what it means that there are colours on his shirt, not even a rainbow.

How can you see the sadness and the loss in his eyes and decide to add even more to his hurt? How doesn’t that make you disgusted of yourself?

I don’t get how you prefer to believe Louis would rather keep up babygate and be on another continent to pretend being a father for the sake of his gay relationship when his mum was in England, terminally ill. How can you be so sick to think that Louis, who loved his mum the way I haven’t seen a lot of sons do, would be so selfish and heartless to do that?

How can you believe they’d lie in Jay’s death message by naming Freddie? How can you believe the family picture, the last picture of them all together and maybe the last picture in which Jay was healthy enough to be in it, was taken with the stunt in mind, because Louis is holding Freddie?

How can you turn this incredibly sad passing of a loving, protective, amazing mother into something that proves how well Harry is taking care of Louis? How can you not realise it must hurt Louis to even see this being turned into something Larry related?

Just because your name is added to some hypocritic project doesn’t mean your behaviour is excused in the slightest.

How can you all be so heartless towards a boy whose heart is the biggest of all?

reblog if he’s ever made your cheeks ache from smiling/laughing

reblog if you’ve ever woken up with swollen and stinging eyes after a night of crying yourself to sleep over him

reblog if you’ve ever lost all the breath in your lungs when you catch his eye

reblog if you’ve even felt like your stomach was about to explode from anxiety when picturing him in your minds eye and trying to anticipate what they day might bring

reblog if it hurts but you love the ache

reblog if it doesn’t matter how hard you’ve tried, there is no erasing him

reblog if you’ve ever loved someone who deserved the kind of love you could give them, but couldn’t have it.

reblog if it’s unrequited. if it’s painful. if it’s real.


You were the blood supplier for a while now. Had it really already been five years since your father had passed away? Before he did, he had told you how he really had gotten all the money with.

Vampires were real and they needed blood, so they payed well. Different blood types, females, males, drunk or on drugs? It seemed like they all had different taste, not that you could tell.

It had been your dad’s business and you needed the money for your mother, who still didn’t really know what you were doing.

There was only one problem with this job.
Raphael. You always had had an eye on the vampire, even before he became the leader of them. But business wasn’t easy when your heart fasted every time you saw him.

He clearly could hear it, every time you brought a new delivery, but he never said something. But he wasn’t as grumpy as he seemed to be with the others around him. Even told a joke once or twice. You enjoyed his company, knowing that you probably weren’t more to him, then a big supply of blood. 

requested by anon.
Hope you like it

You can find all my Imagines|Confessions here
Requests for Imagines|Confessions are open. Send me some ^^

anonymous asked:

do you think bruce wayne is into fashion? as a member of high society gotham and the public eye, he has to be impeccably stylish at events and the like, and i'd imagine he'd attend fashion shows occasionally bc that's what rich, fashionable people seem to do (even though the real bruce is far from fashion forward lol). do you think he finds it interesting?

so based on your line of thinking:

which of course gives us:

we’re quickly now left with:

given how we’ve eliminated the real players in the equation, we now only have to consider why actual, non-faker bruce doesn’t care about fashion:

does that mean that bruce, even on some level, has to care and implement fashion even in his batman endeavors just so he won’t get his ass kicked?

could that also mean that he’s maybe, sometimes, probably interested in actual fashion because he now has an eye for it?

thus bruce wayne, indeed, finds fashion interesting. bye

I worry some of you still have not really met Jesus — one to one — you and Jesus alone.  We may spend time in chapel — but have you seen with the eyes of your soul how he looks at you with love?  Do you really know the living Jesus — not from books but from being with him in your heart?  Have you heard the loving words he speaks to you?

Ask for the grace; he is longing to give it.  Until you can hear Jesus in the silence of your own heart, you will not be able to hear him saying, “I thirst” in the hearts of the poor.  Never give up this daily intimate contact with Jesus as the real living person — not just the idea.  How can we last even one day without hearing Jesus say, “I love you” — impossible.  Our soul needs that as much as the body needs to breathe the air.  If not, prayer is dead — meditation only thinking.  Jesus wants you each to hear him — speaking in the silence of your heart.

Be careful of all that can block that personal contact with the living Jesus.  The devil may try to use the hurts of life, and sometimes our own mistakes, to make you feel it is impossible that Jesus really loves you, is really cleaving to you.  This is a danger for all of us.  And so sad, because it is completely opposite of what Jesus is really wanting, waiting to tell you.  Not only that he loves you, but even more — he longs for you.  He misses you when you don’t come close.  He thirsts for you. He loves you always, even when you don’t feel worthy.

When not accepted by others, even by yourself sometimes — he is the one who always accepts you.  My children, you don’t have to be different for Jesus to love you.  Only believe — you are precious to him.  Bring all you are suffering to his feet — only open your heart to be loved by him as you are.  He will do the rest.

—  Mother Teresa of Calcutta
Christmas markets

Originally posted by hipsta-please-harry


(y/n) and Harry visit the Christmas markets together. This is just disgustingly fluffy.

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Hour Seven : Criticism

Prompt : “I’d rather only murder them with the chainsaw.“

A/N : 7 out of 24

Pairing : Jason Todd x Reader

[•] [•] [•]

“There’s absolutely no way I’m kissing you with that mask on.” You told Jason, eyeing the oddly realistic skin mask covering his handsome face.

Jason pouted, “But Y/N!” He whined childishly, “Its not like it’s made out of real human skin!”

With a roll of your eyes, you scoffed, “Yes, kind of like how your brain isn’t made out of real brain cells.” You joked, reaching your hand up to pat his cheek.

“That was a good one.” Tim chortled, grinning from side to side.

Jason scowled at the younger boy, “Why are you and the demon brat even here?” He said, nodding over to Damian who was busy admiring the chainsaw Jason had gotten to complete his Halloween costume.

Your eyes widened at the sight of your boyfriend’s brother so close to something that could potentially cut off his arm.

Hurrying towards Damian, you snatched the chainsaw from the table and glared at the amused man—more like boy. “Why couldn’t you have bought a fake one?” You asked.

“Because the real ones can cut through bone.” Jason said, as if the answer was obvious.

“Jason Todd, if I turn on the news tonight and see you dressed up as Leatherface running around murdering people with this stupid portable power saw, I will…”

“Relax, babe.” Jason stressed, smiling a large adorable smile while pointing at both Damian and Tim. “I’d rather only murder them with the chainsaw.”

“Like you weren’t psychotic enough already.” Tim said, curling his lips in disgust. At the same time he says this, Damian snarled, “I’d like to see you try, Todd.”

“No fighting you three.” You ordered. What you would give to have Dick here right now. But unfortunately, he was too busy going last minute shopping with Mar'i.

“He started it.” Tim and Damian chorused, glaring at Jason.

“Timmy, Dami.” You started, “We know how messed up Jason is in the head. You shouldn’t stoop down to his level. I heard his stupidness is contagious.”

“For Christ’s sake, I’ll change!” Jason finally gave in, sighing loudly.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling.

“All this abuse over one costume.” You heard him mutter as he made his way back to your bedroom. “Ridiculous.”


Word Count: 2,629

Genre: Horror + Smut

A/N: This is so twisted even I don’t know how I came up with it. BUT, it’s Halloween so it’s the perfect time for this scenario. Read at your own risk ❤️

I told Mama he was real, but she wouldn’t listen. From the day he fell of the top shelf straight into your arms that you would be together forever. Pale skin, dark eyes; and cute little strings that hung from all his joints. Yoongi is what you named him, your one and only best friend. You went everywhere together; playdates, school, the park, and even places you shouldn’t have. Even did things you shouldn’t have. Things always turned out alright though, as long as he was there. You never had to worry about all those stupid outsiders because her understood you. He was all you needed.
Like that time in second grade when a boy tried to take him from you. You shouted and shouted but the boy grabbed on to Yoongi’s arm and pulled it straight off. That was the first time you heard Yoongi’s voice, when you wanted to smack the boy right there, he whispered to wait, revenge is a dish best served cold. So instead, when no one was looking you two locked up that mean boy in the lunchroom freezer overnight. In the morning he was so cold he couldn’t even speak to rat us out! From then on, his whispers grew to mumbles to a full blown voice. It was beautiful, and he knew just how to string words to give you peace of mind. He helped you through plenty of tough times; fights with mom, broken relationships, distant friends.

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Request:  Could you do a scenario where nct were filming a show and suddenly they saw a really pretty girl.

Winwin: *can’t get his eyes off you*

Originally posted by china-lines

Mark: Is she even real?

Originally posted by kimbaprolls

Taeyong: *uses aegyo to get your attention*

Originally posted by t-yong

Jaehyun: gif says it all…

Originally posted by jaehyundimple

Doyoung: *gets nervous and self conscious*

Originally posted by taesyong

Hansol: *forgets how to dance*

Originally posted by ji-hansol

Johnny: *starts blabbering random shit and tries to act cool*

Originally posted by yonges

Yuta: GDI she’s really pretty.

Originally posted by hansolxyuta

Taeil: Gotta get her to notice me…

Originally posted by nctinfo

Ten: *winks*

Originally posted by taesyong

Kun: *steals glances*

Originally posted by jonginka

Donghuck: *tells his hyungs he is in love*

Originally posted by preciouskpoplove

Jeno: *thinking how to approach you*

Originally posted by ambrosaur

Jisung: *totally traumatized by your beauty*

Originally posted by iloveyuta

Jaemin: *approaches you like a boss*

Originally posted by nakamotoes


This has been in the works for months and months. I simply haven’t had the inspiration nor the time to write honestly. It’s not my best writing, but I tried to get myself back into things. I’ve missed writing and you guys

Warning: SMUT

Length: 7,000+ words

               It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. Those sweet lips of his shouldn’t have been so bitter. Those eyes weren’t supposed to be so dark.

               To be fair, tonight was the one night that everyone could be whoever they wanted to. You had just fallen for his innocent ploy. How were you supposed to know those wings of his were real?

               It was Halloween. The sky was blackened and overcast, consuming the moon’s light. Careful of the brisk cold, you chose a costume that allowed for you to cover up well. Your long white dress dragged against the concrete even though you were wearing high heels. Your friend pulled you along, rushing you as if you were terribly late. There was still plenty of time though. You had all night.

               Someone had rented a club to throw a party. You had no idea who, but apparently they were a friend of a friend and that meant that you had somehow received a gorgeous black invitation with loopy orange lettering. Not one to refuse an opportunity to be someone else for a few hours, you graciously accepted and now you were trying to navigate through the gray fog covering the venue’s floor without stepping on anyone’s feet.

               There were more people here than you had expected and though you had entered holding your friend’s hand, she was suddenly nowhere to be found. The sea of masks made it near impossible to search for her. However, you weren’t too concerned. You would end up crossing paths again at some point.

               You decided to hold the hem of your gown as you strolled to make sure you didn’t trip as the ground was virtually undetectable under the man-made smoke. Hoisting yourself up onto a stool by the bar, you got your bearing as you sat and observed. The club was eerily beautiful with glass chandeliers casting a blue tinted glow on the shimmering onyx walls and floors.

               A tap on your shoulder startled you out of your awe. Spinning in your seat, you came face to face with the bartender. He wore a cape and fake elongated canine teeth for a vampire feel. He wanted to know if you wanted a drink.

               The corners of your lips upturned. In fact, you did. “Could you make something that goes with my costume?” you asked playfully.

               He smiled at your request but his white contact lenses made the expression seem sinister. “Anything for an angel,” he replied flirtily.

               You were grateful that he could tell your intended guise as you weren’t wearing fake wings. But to be fair, you had your back to him earlier, so maybe he has caught sight of the huge black wings tattooed on your skin. Though your white dress had long sleeves and was floor length, it was also totally backless. It exposed your ink well. If your gold halo didn’t give away what you were attempting, a good look at your back would.

               The bartender came back with something bubbling in a wine glass with flecks of gold leaf floating the in honey-colored liquid.

               “What is it?” you inquired as you handed the handsome blood sucker a bill.

               “Unicorn blood,” he answered with a wink.

               You appreciated his cleverness in the choice. Wiggling your fingers in farewell, you stood to leave.

               “Come back for some Hell Fire,” he called after you. You nodded without looking back and made no promises.

               Taking a sip from your glass, you were pleasantly surprised by the taste of passion fruit mixed with champagne. The sweetness cut the bitterness and the carbonation lightened the thickness of the juice. You really were going to have to return for that Hell Fire if it was anything like this.

               A firm hand gripped your elbow and you whipped around so fast that you almost spilled your cocktail. It was your friend, looking sexier than before in her police woman outfit now that she was sweating a little. She had found the dance floor without you and had even found herself a Joker to sway with. Kindly, he accepted you as an adoption to their duo and you danced with your friend as she danced with the both of you.

               Draining your Unicorn’s blood after a few songs, you decided to leave your friend to her criminal and sought out the bar again. There was a line this time and you secured yourself a small section of counter to lean against as you waited. You draped your hair to one side as you could feel the alcohol and dancing warm you from the inside. Not wanting your makeup to melt just yet, you fanned yourself with your hands. The gold bangles that adorned your wrists tinkled musically loud enough to catch the bartender’s attention. He flashed his fangs at you teasingly as he mixed a margarita.

               You were mid-chuckle when you felt a chill crawl up your spine. Goose bumps erupted on your arms and you searched for the cause. Eyes darting around, you caught sight of a tall man dressed in all black staring at you from across the room. He stood completely still even as you locked eyes. You couldn’t read his expression as an elegant mask made of lace obscured half of his face. The fabric was a stunning shade of crimson, which was at complete odds with his charcoal suit. But it did have the benefit of drawing your interest straight to his eyes, which were piercing.

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Bucky x Reader Oneshot

Summary – Bucky unwittingly gains the attentions of a cute female at the park one day.

Warnings – Pure Fluff

Word Count – 747

Notes – So I saw this cartoon on Pinterest the other day and I immediately thought of this fic!  I do not own the cartoon, nor do I know who actually created it.  I hope you enjoy this one!


Bucky liked to spend his evenings sitting in the park, people watching.  There were the ones too busy on their phones to even watch where they were going. Some of them were there for a run, their headphones jammed into their ears, oblivious to everyone around them.  He liked to watch the people playing Frisbee with their dogs, so carefree and happy.

But you were the real reason why he came.  You sat at the same bench by the little pond every evening reading a book.  He loved the way your brow would furrow during a stressful part, or how your eyes would twinkle as a smile would spread across your face when something made you laugh. He had started paying attention to the titles of the books so he could stop at the bookstore on his way home.  Even though you paid no attention to him, he liked knowing that he could share something with you.

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anonymous asked:

If the person who pointed the gun at soma is real the real!ciel, don't you think it is weird, that soma wasn't confused about the ciel not wearing an eyepatch? its significant to our!ciel, so shouldn't be the first things to say be "where is your eyepatch? did your eye heal? how?" and not "hurry, or I'll eat the dessert without you!" and "do you have a fever?" or sth like that

That is a very good point and to my shame I have to admit that I didn’t even think about this. ;^^ So thanks for bringing it up. I guess if it is the twin he might have put on an eye patch in order to look exactly like our Ciel. But since he put a gun to Soma’s head pretty much immediately after entering it doesn’t seem as if he wanted to pretend like he was our Ciel (unless it was in order to get in).

So yes, if that person really was the twin and he didn’t wear the eye patch Soma should have noticed and commented on that. Hmm, I’ve thought and talked so much about the identity of that person with the gun. Somehow, nothing really makes sense. The twin seemed like the most likeliest explanation because of Agni’s reaction when seeing that photo (and who else could be on that photo who would shock Agni like that?). But even with the twin, things don’t quite make sense in some regards. Maybe I’m really missing something here. I just hope it won’t be a plot hole in the end and that we’ll finally know for certain in the next chapter.

McMartinski back in time

Wrote this for @slowburnotptrash
hope you like it Farah.

Warning: This may emotionally fuck you up but I tried to combine some of my young McMartinski head canons into a story so enjoy :)

Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Malia and Deaton were all hunched over around Scotts kitchen island. Scott kicked off the gathering with “how are we suppose to know how to stop this supernatural thing if you can’t even remember what it looked like, or what happened”. Stiles looked to be crossed between stressed and angry. “I saw it in a dream Scott, and I’m sure of it. It felt so real but I can’t spit out the words to describe it”. “You remember how we did this last time, don’t you”? All eyes were on Dr. Deaton. “Scott, you’re going to have to put your claws into Stiles’ neck”. “No, I can hurt him. There has to be another way”. At this point everyone else in the room noticed Lydia holding Stiles in a protective way. Malia stared at Scott and said “time’s running out, and we have no other choice”. “She’s right” Stiles replied. “Scott you can’t go in his mind alone, he needs someone to bring him back, his emotional tether” Dr. Deaton glanced over at Lydia. Her and Stiles took a step forward in bravery still holding each other. “Okay both of you, sit down on the couch and Scott stand behind them” Malia gently pushed them along. Scott closed his eyes and pulled out his claws. “WAIT WAIT” Stiles yelled. Scott immediately opened his human eyes “what”. “When you do this, you’re only going to see what I saw in my dream right” Stiles looked directly at Deaton. “It depends, sometimes memories can’t be controlled.” Lydia was quick to grab Stiles arm “why is there something wrong, something you don’t want us to see”? “No, no i-it’s fine” he reached to touch Lydia’s small hand with his warm gentle one. But he wasn’t fine, he had memories filled with horrifying lies, terrors, secrets and complete darkness. No matter how much he tried to forget, they would never fade away. Stiles slowly closed his eyes hoping they wouldn’t see anything else but his dream. Scott began to close his eyes and once again stuck out his claws. He jabbed them into Stiles and Lydia’s neck. Malia took a wide step towards them while Deaton pulled her back. “What am I suppose to do, how can I help”. “We can’t, all we can do is wait”. Both of them glanced over to the unconscious trio.

Now in Stiles’ mind the trio woke up sitting on a warm spread of green grass. They could feel the heat coming from the sun. Lydia turned to Scott and Stiles “this feels so real, it must be an illusion…” Scott interrupted “or a memory” he turned to Stiles. Over Stiles’ shoulder he saw a bright red new sand box. It quickly drew his attention “guys this isn’t my dream… it is a memory, look”. Scott and Lydia turned around. They saw a very young Scott and Stiles playing in the sand box. Right next to them was a boy the same age, he was definitely raised in the upper class. He had a dark blue polo shirt paired with checkered Ralph Lauren shorts. It was the young Jackson Whittemore. “Hey McCall mind if I use that bucket” he grabbed Scotts bucket, poured out all the sand on top of his head. “Hey now you got my hair all dirty… ow I think there’s sand in my eyes”. Stiles immediately stood up “hey what’s your problem rich boy”. “Nothing, McCall just looks better with dirty hair… because isn’t that what his parents fighting turns out to be… dirty. Jackson gave himself a little smirk of pride. Stiles didn’t know who Scott was yet but already felt the need to be so defensive over him. "You better watch your mouth” said a young Stiles while pushing Jackson into the sand. A young Scott started happily giggling and clapping while the present Scott watching himself was doing the same thing. Jackson sat up and started crying until his nanny came and carried him out of the sand box. Stiles bent down and lightly brushed the sand out of Scotts hair. Young Scott smiled and said “what’s your name”. Young Stiles replied “Stiles”. “Cool I’m Scott, you want to be friends”? “How about best friends?” “YESSSS” young Stiles leaned in close to Scott “since we’re best friends you can keep a secret, right?”. “Yes of course, you did just save my butt out there a couple minutes ago…”. “Okay but you absolutely can’t tell anyone… and I mean anyone…” young Scott stared deeply into Stiles’ eyes “I swear I won’t, now what is it”. “Well my first name isn’t actually Stiles, it’s just what I like to be called. My real name is actually M********”. Before young Scott could reply a certain strawberry blonde haired girl turned around and started laughing. The present Lydia watching herself couldn’t help but laugh as well, while the present Stiles gave her the same annoyed look as young Stiles. While watching their young selves Lydia leaned into Stiles while laughing to say “I’m sorry but wow I forgot how funny it was to hear your kid voice especially you saying M*******, hahahahaahahahaah”. Now back to the young trio. “Hey, please stop laughing, I don’t want anyone to know”. Young Lydia bent down and held his arm “don’t worry your secret’s safe with me, by the way my names Lydia Martin”. “Wow Lydia, that’s a really pretty name, you’re so lucky, you can just call me Stiles and this is my best friend Scott”. “Nice to meet both of you”. Young Stiles couldn’t help but say “you have beautiful red hair”. Lydia giggled and corrected him “actually it’s strawberry blonde” she smiled and skipped her way out of the sand box to her mom. Young Scott noticed how lost and distracted Stiles was staring off at her in the distance, he started snapping his fingers in his face “dude, dude, are you there”. Stiles violently blinked “yeah, wow she has the most beautiful strawberry blonde hair I’ve ever seen, and did you notice her big beautiful green eyes… she’s so hot”. “Dude, do you even know what hot means”? “Yeah, it means she’ll be my wife one day”. 18 year old Stiles watching bowed his head down in embarrassment while Lydia couldn’t stop laughing. Scott was face palming himself. When Lydia’s laughing started to calm down she noticed a glitchy screen on the left side of a tree. She stood up slowly catching Scott and Stiles’ attention. She put her hand towards it and it started going through the tree. Scott quickly yelled “it’s the next door like Deaton was talking about, let’s go”. And one by one the trio went through the “door” in this tree.

Lydia got out first and they were sent to their old grade 3 classroom. It looked exactly the way Lydia remembered it. Her sitting in the front row, Stiles behind her and Scott beside him. Scott looked at his young talkative self “wow I’m surprised Ms. Molino never separated Stiles and I… just look how annoying we were”. He watched the young iconic duo talking it up and creating paper airplanes, making bets on who can get it in the garbage bin without the teacher noticing. Lydia gave a little side laugh “I guess you guys still don’t know the real reason why Ms. Molino kept you in that place”?? Stiles turned “no we don’t”?? “She pulled me out into the hall one day and asked me if it was okay to keep you two behind me, she was hoping some of my smarts would rub off on you two”. Stiles scratched his head “yup well that does sound like something Molino would say”. Lydia turned to the board to see it was Wednesday, January 5th. “OH NO”. Scott turned to her attention right away “what’s wrong”? “It’s Wednesday…. January the 5th… it was the first time I…” Stiles interrupted to finish her sentence “got glasses and had to wear them in class”. “Yeah”. The trio turned to their young selves. They saw 8 year old Lydia being shy and trying to hide her glasses inside her desk. Grade 3 Stiles leaned forward and tapped the strawberry blonde girls back “hey are those your glasses”? Young Lydia took a deep breath in and out to finally admit “yes they’re mine”. “Why have I not seen you wear them yet, put them on”. As the young boy wished she put them on, that’s when Jacksons group in the corner noticed and started chanting “four eyes, four eyes, four eyes”. Stiles stood up defensively and yelled “HEY SHE LOOKS AMAZING IN THOSE GLASSES!”, “in fact she looks even smarter then she already is”. Jackson laughed off Stiles’ points. But Young Stiles kept talking “Hey she has the highest mark in the grade, and what are you at Whittemore…. oh that’s right a D-”. Present Scott gave Stiles a high five “dude that was fire for a 3rd grader”. “Thanks man!” Lydia just stared at both of them awkwardly while they geeked out, but she kept watching. Jackson had already pushed 3 desks out of the way ready to start a fight with Stiles until Scott got in it, he gave a blow to Jacksons balls and held Stiles in a back hug. Ms. Molino came screaming to the room “WHAT IN GODS NAME IS GOING ON IN HERE”. The first thing the teacher obviously saw was young Jackson on the floor crying with Scott and Stiles showing a pride smirk on their faces. “SCOTT, STILES, TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE….. NOW!” The strawberry blonde haired girl with the stylish frames smacked her desk and stood up “Miss it was Jackson who started the fight.” The teacher stood there in shock “alright I’m taking Lydia’s word over yours, Jackson get to the principals office now”. Jackson got up, pretended he was in agonizing pain and dragged his feet to the principals office. 8 year old Scott and Stiles ran up to Lydia and whispered “hey you didn’t need to lie for us, you saw I kicked him in the balls first”. Lydia was quick to reply to Scott “yes, but he deserved it”. The present Scott and Stiles looked at Lydia, they both looked completely love struck over the fact that she’s been saving their ass since the third grade. “Awwwww, look who’s been watching out for us back then”. They formed a triangle and gave Lydia a group hug. Lydia could barely breath “yeah, yeah”. Scott was now facing the side door of the class room, he noticed a small shimmer. He broke the hug and pointed “hey guys look, that must be the next memory”. Stiles looked defeated “oh great…” he spit out the words so sarcastically. Lydia let out a sigh and grabbed Stiles’ hand dragging him into the door.

They were now outside, it was that quiet abandoned park Stiles hung around to either do homework or just think for a little bit. Only 4 people knew about it: Scott, Lydia, Claudia and the Sheriff. Stiles had a saddened smile across his face “I remember this place so well, we used to hang out here all the time and just talk about things” Lydia added on to the list “also where I use to tutor you guys, and bring snacks…” then Scott added on “yup and the place we would sneak off to in the middle of the night and plot our next scheme”. Lydia noticed how the abandoned park looked a hell of a lot nicer than she remembered it, same with Scott. This park was so special to Stiles, he saw it as his golden gateway to slow down time and get away from reality, that’s why it was seen and remembered more beautiful through his eyes. This park was also where the trio bonded as young kids. That’s right, every day after school Lydia, Scott and Stiles would sit at this wooden bench with red paint peeling off, they would toss their bags on the fresh green grass and set their thick heavy Elementary text books on the not so stable table. It was like a rhythmic pattern they followed until Stiles’ stopped coming to this place and it had lost its magic. Stiles saw his young self sitting on the old bench with his face in his arms. Stiles watching himself, let out a small breath and smiled because he knew what he was about to see. It was the day he found out his mom had been diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia. Him and Scott had originally planned to go skate boarding at the tunnels but Stiles cancelled and said he would go straight home. But Stiles couldn’t go straight home, he couldn’t go back into that house and see his mother slowly die. For a 3rd grader Stiles was pretty smart, maybe not as smart as Lydia Martin but definitely above average. He knew what this disease did to you and he definitely knew the final results of the sickness. All of this information was pounding in Stiles’ delicate head, he felt like he was drowning. The only thing he could think of was to go to the park and clear his head. But there was something young Stiles didn’t know. Lydia Martin had been running all over town trying to find him. She finally got to the skating tunnels and found Scott practising this new move. “Hey Scott, where’s Stiles I’ve been looking all over for him”? Scott gave young Lydia a saddened look and gently touched her shoulder for care “he found out his mom had been diagnosed with FTD and he seemed like he wanted to be left alone”. Lydia gasped and ran off. Her head was pounding probably as hard as Stiles’ was. Her thoughts were uncontrollable and she was insanely worried and scared for Stiles’. But Lydia always did what she did best, remained calm, retraced her steps, and put herself in the other persons shoes. A lightbulb turned on in her head and she immediately headed off to the abandoned park. She slowly approached the old rusty gate and found a boy with his head in his arms wearing a blue and green checkered flannel. This is what the present trio was now watching. Young Lydia tiptoed to the bench and took a seat next to Stiles. She leaned in close next to his ear so he could listen. “I don’t really have much experience in a family member suffering from dementia. And I can’t say I know the pain you’re feeling because I don’t. But you worry and you scare me Stiles. It’s sad how this world works, its sad how we eventually have to loose people we love but guess what? That’s how life works, that’s how we learn to get stronger. Listen to me now Stiles, this; right here, right now, will be one of the hardest things you will ever have to do… to grieve over the loss of someone who is still alive. Yes it’s painful now but when you think about how this person lived their life, how your mom has lived a happy life. She has a family who cares for her so deeply, and most importantly she’s a good person.” At this point young Lydia was crying with Stiles, they both developed the same breathing pattern. “Why is this world so unfair, your mom doesn’t deserve to die. She’s an amazing women, she cares for every person in this town, she’s never done one thing wrong, why does it have to be her”. Stiles looked up at Lydia, his eyes were full of tears but he could still see her face clearly, she had tears running down her cheeks. Stiles was trying to say this metaphor he remembered during class but his breaths were interrupting the flow and continuity of the sentence. “It’s like what Ms. Molino said "when you go….o to…to… a garden” his breath was hot and so were his tears. “When you go to a garden, you pick the best, the prettiest flower out there. It’s the same way choosing a death”. Young Stiles rested his head on Lydia’s fore arm while she pulled him in a hug. They were still sitting on the bench, her head was behind his. Her soft chin was touching the back of his neck until she turned to the right and layed her cheek there. They stayed in that position for a while as the sun went down, they continued to sob. What they didn’t know was Scott had climbed a tree, perfect view of the old picnic table. He saw everything, and Stiles and Lydia still didn’t know about it. Present Scott turned to Stiles and Lydia who were already wrapped in each other’s arms. “Guys see that tall tree to the far left side”. They both turned to look “yeah”. “I was up there watching the whole time”. “You were?? I thought I heard the sounds of a raccoon”. Scott smiled, he didn’t want to give away that he had watched his two best friends in their best moments from a far distance without them knowing. It gave him a kind of pleasure he couldn’t explain. This was the first time he had watched them from a distance and it continued to high school, to watching them dance for the first time, watching them sit and give each other secret stares at the library, watching them constantly save each other’s lives, the list went on and on but only Scott would know. Stiles had tears in his eyes one tear managed to escape his left eye as he had his arm around Lydia “I still can’t believe a 3rd grader was able to talk that maturely and calm me down”. A smile escaped Lydia’s mouth and she stared at the ground. Back at Scotts house Malia looked up and noticed a tear stream down the left side of Stiles’ face. She quickly got Deaton up on his feet to inspect. “What the hell is happening to him, do we wake him up”. Malia was centimetres away to shaking Stiles awake until Deaton pulled her back. “No, we can’t wake them when they’re in an unconscious state. We could kill them instantly.” Malia felt scared to hear that word come out “kill” she backed away. They watched another tear escape his eye. Deaton had inferred before they would run into rooms of different memories, looks like he was correct.

The trio left the park watching young Stiles still wrapped in Lydia’s small delicate arms through the rusted gateway. They were transferred to another memory. All three of them were familiar with the setting, they just haven’t seen it like this in a very long time. It was the Stilinskis house. The trio walked around the old styled home, styled to Claudia’s taste. They walked to the rooms upstairs and found Claudia’s clothes ripped up and thrown to the ground. They found her utensils in the bathroom scattered in the sink and bathtub. They moved down to the main level. There they found a drunk Sheriff ripping away the elegant drapes Claudia had picked out before they moved into the house. There were broken bear bottles at his feet and at least 10 more bottles scattered on the table, he was in so much pain, so much denial that his wife was gone. The present Stiles knew where this memory was leading too, it was the one he was hoping he wouldn’t revisit, the one that he wished he could erase. It still hurt him the same way it hurt him 10 years ago to watch his father in this shape. The door rang open and it was a young Stiles who came through the door. The present trio moved to the other side of the kitchen and watched from a corner angle. Young Stiles walked through the kitchen, it was 10:01 pm and the sky had turned pitch black. The Sheriff viciously turned around and saw his boy. The Sheriff began screaming “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN, DO YOU SEE WHAT TIME IT IS? ITS 10pm! I EXPECTED YOU HOME 2 HOURS AGO!” Young Stiles looked frightened and started mumbling “I got held up, the McCalls insisted I stay for dinner”. The Sheriff looked furious, a look Scott and Lydia have only seen on him while dealing with stubborn law breakers. “I DON’T GIVE A FUCKING SHIT, DO YOU HEAR ME?”. Young Stiles replied “loud and clear” in a serious tone. “DO YOU THINK ITS A GOOD TIME TO MAKE YOUR STUPID SARCASTIC JOKES.” “Dad I’m- before young Stiles could say sorry he looked down and noticed the beer bottles. His dad had been drinking ALOT. He looked up and saw his dad about to swing him an empty bear bottle, Stiles quickly dodged to the side and the bottle shattered on his right arm. Present Lydia grabbed Stiles’ hand and took a step back, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, she looked completely horrified. Young Stiles was already half way out of the kitchen until the Sheriff grabbed him by the collar. "Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Better not be back to the McCalls house because I’m your family, YOU HEAR ME, I’M YOUR FAMILY!” The Sheriff swung his son to the wall causing some framed painting to fall with Stiles. The Sheriff picked him back up and continued yanking him towards the stairs. “You get your ass to the basement because you’re sleeping there tonight” the Sheriff had a hard grip on Stiles’ jaw “I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow morning, got it”. Young Stiles didn’t say a word and nodded. The Sheriff shoved his sons shoulder a little too hard and it caused Stiles to fall down a flight of stairs. When his body touched the ground he was right away unconscious but still breathing. He had suffered from a minor concussion. As the Sheriff witnessed this he froze on the spot. “What the hell did I just do” his breathing started getting heavier and heavier, the room started spinning, the Sheriff hit his head against the wall and slid down. He fell asleep on the floor. Back to the trio watching this incident; Lydia had been holding onto Stiles’ hand while leaning her head on his side shoulder. The look on Scotts face broke Stiles, the look of pure guilt sunk into Stiles’ stomach. All three of them had tears in their eyes, still recovering from what they had just witnessed. Scotts watery eyes turned to Stiles “The next day… you told me you got those bruises from tripping on the sidewalk.” Stiles looked down to the floor, he was ashamed he didn’t have the courage to tell his best friend the truth. Scott still had his guilt look set “I-it’s all my fault.” “Scott…” Scott interrupted his best friend “it’s my fault, I’m the one who asked my mom if you could stay for dinner, I’m the one who kept you out so late….”. “Scott it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t even my dads fault.” Stiles’ breathing got heavier and Lydia’s thumb moved in a circular motion along the outside of Stiles’ hand to calm him down. “My dad was so drunk he doesn’t even remember this night, and I’d like to keep it that way. I would have felt worst if my dad held this night against him, but he doesn’t know of it and I thought that would be the key to erase this from my mind, to not keep getting this constant reminder that it happened… it was no ones fault that night, we were both depressed over loosing her, we just dealt with the pain in different ways.” Back at Scotts house Deaton and Malia noticed a movement coming from the unconscious trio. Lydia’s hand was sliding over to Stiles and she had gently folded his hand right under hers. Malia looked concerned and glanced to Deaton “there’s something wrong, I want to help”. Deaton replied “you can’t. It’s okay he has his emotional tether by his side”. Malia let out a relieved sigh and glanced back at the unconscious Stiles and Lydia with linked hands. Back in Stiles’ mind Scott and Lydia were still staring at Stiles with this guilty look. They wished they knew about it 10 years ago and maybe could of stopped this horrible incident from happening. The look of guilt on their faces made Stiles’ sick. He needed some distraction to get their minds off of it, he found his answer when he saw a shimmer stream down the back door. Stiles turned Scott around and pointed “look it’s the next door”. Scott entered first. Then Stiles and Lydia took 3 slow steps forward still holding hands. Before taking another step he looked back at Lydia. She still had a mild concern look on her face, she made eye contact with him and gave a slight nod. He took her hand with his and stepped into the door way.

The door way had led to Scotts old room. Scott spun in a circle looking around “wow I was such a loser” his walls were covered in rock artist posters, Tony Hawk on his skate board and some Star Wars stickers Stiles had put up. He stopped spinning and layed his eyes on him and Stiles playing a video game sitting in the corner of the carpeted floor. Present Stiles walked over to Scott. “Hey this must of been the first day of grade 7. I remember shaving my head for the first time and I borrowed one of your Tony Hawk shirts.” Scott closed his eyes embarrassed of the thought that he actually owned Tony Hawk shirts. Lydia was busy walking around Scotts room in amazement. She didn’t remember when his room looked like this because she had stopped hanging out with them by grade 7. Her attention ran to young Scott and Stiles screaming “YES TAKE THAT BATMAN” and they did that same pathetic high five they always do on the lacrosse field. The thing where they high five forward up and backwards down. Young Scott was all hyped and started jumping on the bed “DUDE THIS IS THE FIRST DAY OF GRADE 7!!! We’re officially going to be one of the big kids”. Young Stiles laughed and crossed his legs on the ground looking up at his best friend. “Okay dude chill, I’m the one who takes the aderal remember?” Scott jumped off the bed and sat down across from Stiles. Scott gave him a smirk “so…” he started patting his chest and poking his stomach “soooooo…” Stiles started to look annoyed. “So, what?”. Scott continued to say “so are you finally going to ask out Lydia Martin?”. “Omg dude it’s still the first day of grade 7 we don’t need to get into this now”. “Well we’ve become really good friends with her for the last 3 years maybe you should start to make a move before someone takes her”. Stiles still looked annoyed “Lydia’s not like that dude, she’s not going to just start dating some douche bag, she’s highly intelligent and I’m aware she’ll make a great choice for herself”. Scott laughed “yup and that great choice won’t be you unless you man up and ask her out”. “Scott I have a plan for this thing okay, it’s developing slowly but it’s still a plan”. Scott rolled his eyes “ughhh how long is this plan… 10 years”. “Actually yes”, Scotts face went into shock “dude are you serious”. “Very, Lydia’s the kind of girl who wants to focus on her grades for a while, she’ll get a 5.0 GPA in high school and she’ll get accepted into Standford…” Scott interrupted “how are you so sure of this and what the hell since when do GPAs go up that high”. Stiles smiles “I’m sure of anything that involves her, she’ll make that GPA standard true, I just know it”. Melissa ran into the bedroom “Scott, Stiles you boys better start heading to school, don’t want to be late on the first day”. She gave Scott a kiss on the cheek and left to get to the Hospital. Scott and Stiles threw their backpacks on and headed out the door. Their Elementary school was close by at the time so it was more convenient to walk. The trio followed young Scott and Stiles through the front door. It led them in the school yard still during the first day. Stiles turned to Lydia “where are you going” she started wandering a bit “I’m trying to find myself, I know for a fact the first day of grade 7 I wore my favourite light blue floral top and I just want to see it on me again”. Scott laughed “fine go…”. 18 year old Scott and Stiles wandered through their old Elementary school yard together until they walked a full circle and found Lydia. Lydia found her 13 year old self wearing that top she still loves. Scott and Stiles turned around and found their young selves. Young Scott grabbed Stiles’ shirt “why the hell aren’t you going up to her”. “Dude have you seen her, what happened to her… she didn’t look like that on the last day of grade 6.” Scott and Stiles looked Lydia up and down. She now started wearing contact lenses, her body had developed curves, and her boobs were pretty big for a 13 year old (32 C). After moments of looking her up and down slowly, Stiles’ eyes reached her face. “Woah what is that”. Scott looked at Stiles in confusion “what is what”. “Look… on her face, I think that’s make up. Lydia has never worn make up before”. Stiles seemed to look even more love struck. Lydia Martin got so incredibly hot, Stiles felt his self confidence drop a little. Scott snapped his fingers in his face “dude keep your chill, you don’t want to look like one of those horny ackward teenage boys”. Stiles gave him a scrunched up look “but I am one of those horny ackward teenage boys”. Scott pulled Stiles’ shoulders up to straighten his best friends posture, he gave him a little push towards Lydia “at least go say hi to her” so Stiles headed towards Lydia until 13 year old Jackson Whittemore budded him out. Stiles immediately backed away and headed back to Scott. Jackson started using his sexual whistle “Dammm you’re Lydia Martin right”. The young 13 year old looked straight at him “that’s right”. “Well can I just say, you’re smoking hot maybe we can chat later” young Lydia giggled “sure”. Present Lydia watched her young self trying to flirt with the most popular boy in school at the time. She shook her head side to side “what a huge mistake I made there” present Stiles looked up at her “agreed” while Scott let out a laugh while placing the tip of his fingers on his forehead looking down and shaking his head with Lydia. 13 year old Stiles squinted his eyes from a distance and Scott put his arm around his best friends shoulder and pushed both of them towards the fence “dude did you see that”. “Of course I saw that, she just let that douche bag compliment her… that should of been me”. “You’re damn right that should of been you… you need to come up with a better and faster pace plan now.” “I’ll try” the young duo kept talking but the transparent block on the school building was distracting the trio. Lydia pointed “that’s the next door, let’s go” the two best friends followed their leading lady.

When the trio got to the other side they tripped up on a garbage bin. Before creating a domino affect Stiles pushed Lydia out of the way and Scott fell on top of Stiles and Stiles fell on top of the garbage bin. Lydia had her arms crossed with a serious look. Scott and Stiles looked up at her, they looked like 4 year old kids trying to build a fort with a garbage bin. Scott finally said “it’s okay it’s a memory, no one noticed us falling” “pfffffffff” “it’s cool” and Stiles tried to brush it off like every thing was good but it hurt like hell. Even though it was all in his mind, that little fall really did hurt same with unconscious Stiles’ real body, a small bruise formed on his side hip. Lydia uncrossed her arms and helped both of them up “Okay what’s this memory about”. Stiles looked confused “what do you mean”. Lydia explained herself “well every memory we revisited there was a purpose, it’s like your brain follows a certain pattern, we see your memory, we watch your memory and then a new portal opens up… so let’s find this memory, and watch it so we can get to the next room.” She walked ahead of them, Scott gave Stiles a giddily nod while whispering “your girlfriends brilliant”. “Literally Scott, tell me something I don’t know.” Scott gave him one of his stupid smiles. “Ugh come on” Stiles yanked Scotts hand trailing behind Lydia. The trio was walking down an old neighbourhood. It was somewhat far away from the core of the town but still within the perimeter. Young Stiles was no where to be seen yet. Lydia whipped her head around “do you guys smell that”. Scott replied “I smelt it all the way from the garbage bins”. Stiles finished their sentence with “…..smoke”. Stiles gulped down some air, the surrounding started to become familiar to him. But he kept his mouth shut in case this wasn’t the memory he was thinking of, he kept walking down the street with Scott and Lydia. After walking down the street for a while they finally came across a burning house on fire. Lydia gasped, there was a certain fear in her eyes “I remember this, Prada ran into that house and I had to get her.” The trio circled around the burning house, there was no one in sight, this neighbourhood was either completely dead or no one was home. It was around 1pm and the grade 8 class of Beacon Hills got dismissed early. Scott and Stiles planned to go watch a movie later that day, so they split off in different directions and headed home. 14 year old Stiles came across the same neighbourhood the trio were watching at the moment. The fear in his eyes built as he saw a 5'3 strawberry blonde haired girl chase after her little white dog into the house. He immediately whipped his back pack off his shoulders and without a thought or plan he ran straight into the house. The present Lydia gasped, her eyes filled with tears, she headed over to Stiles and held his hand. The young teenage boy was in the fiery house, it only got worst. Stiles started climbing the stairs screaming “LYDIA”. He heard a big tumble and in bravery he marched up the stairs. He saw Lydia’s unconscious body on the ground with her dog trying to move her arm. She had tripped on the bed and hit her head on the oak floor. Stiles’ eyes widened as the beam on the left side was about to fall on her. He quickly swooped her unconscious body in his arms and had her positioned in a bridal style. He quickly gave Prada a gentil kick to follow him. 14 year old Stiles’ wasn’t the strongest of his bunch but Lydia was light weighted. By grade 8, Stiles had began to hit puberty, his voice began to deepen, he grew a bit taller, 5'7 to be exact and he still had the same buzz cut. Prada ran ahead of them out the door. Stiles was struggling a little bit to carry her down the stairs, he reached the bottom when another pole was about to hit them, he swiped to the left and spun around and it shattered the glass window. He quickly made his way to the front door and burst through them using his lower back. He made it out, still carrying the girls body. The present Lydia was so stunned, she couldn’t believe Stiles was the one who saved her that day, he was still looking out for her. Grade 8 was the year Lydia and Jackson began to date, they were on and off like a cleshay TV show. Lydia had stopped hanging out with Scott and Stiles back in grade 7, she only talked to them when the teacher put them in a group assignment. She was so beautiful, her looks made her get noticed by everyone in the grade. She was the queen bee, all the loser guys wanted her but she was already taken by the most popular boy in school. To Lydia, Stiles was just one of those other many hopeless loser guys chasing after her. Every year after grade 7 she started acting dumber and dumber. She was scared if she revealed how smart she truly was Jackson would dump her in the ditch and she would be left alone. Lydia Martin had began to turn stone cold, and Stiles was there and saw everything. Only Stiles knew who she really was. She wasn’t just a girl with pretty looks, she was super smart, sometimes Stiles questioned if she was even human when they were younger. Stiles watched her hide behind a wall, he watched her as she hid her real self throughout the years. He wanted to talk to her so badly, but she would just give him a sassy hand to his face and walk away. But even though she was like this, he still liked her. Nothing’s changed in his eyes, it’s always been her since that day in the sandbox. He knew the real Lydia Martin and that’s who he believed in, that’s who he never gave up on, that’s who he risked his life for. 14 year old Stiles’ carried Lydia’s body at least 20 feet away from the burning house and gently placed her on the grass. Prada was sniffing her and trying to move her hand. Stiles placed his ear towards her nose, she was still breathing, she had a pulse, everything was okay and he exhaled a long breath he was holding in. He checked her pockets for a phone because he didn’t have one yet. Stiles went through her contacts and called her dad. He told him what had just happened. Her dad yelled “don’t move I’m on my way right now”. So young Stiles’ stayed put staring at Lydia. Her natural beauty and curves didn’t even cross his mind. He just kept rocking back and forth hoping she would wake up soon. A light blue pick up truck came rushing in the neighbourhood and pulled up right beside them. Her dad came running out and kneeled beside her. “How long has she been unconscious” Stiles replied “10 minutes, I’m no doctor but she seems physically fine”. Mr. Martin gave him a weird look “what do you mean, were you touching her, you took advantage of my daughters unconscious body, didn’t you!” Stiles stood up slowly “no sir, I swear…. I swear, I would never, no…. I would never…” Stiles kept backing up squealing “I would never…” his voice kept cracking up, he finally backed into his backpack and ran off. His heart was pounding way too hard, but she was safe now. Her dad was with her and so was her dog, she would wake up with everything fixed. The present Lydia couldn’t move a muscle, she was still holding onto Stiles’ hand. Her face froze in a stunned position. The trio just remained silent for a couple minutes until Lydia broke it. Her voice started cracking up, she waned to cry so hard “W-why did you never tell me”. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath in “It wasn’t important who saved you but the fact that you needed to be saved.” He added on “I cared more for the fact that you were alive, and you were okay. It never occurred to me that you would care who saved you”. Lydia shook her head “It sure as hell was important. All my life I was told this story all wrong. My dad told me he drove by and saw me go into the house, that he was the one who saved me and Prada. He never mentioned you… not even once”. Scott shook his head, he was fully aware of the story because the same night they skipped the movie so Stiles could tell him everything in great detail “you were a hero”. 14 year old Stiles was in denial “I’m not a hero, I saved her because she needed saving”. “Stiles you saved her life, she could of died in there today, you are a hero”. The young duo sat in silence until they began to play more video games. At the scene present Lydia was about to break into tears “I-I just wish you told me back then”. She buried her face into Stiles’ chest while he wrapped his big arms around her small fragile back. He caressed her strawberry blonde hair in his hands while Scott kept walking around the street trying to find the next portal. He headed back to Stiles and Lydia “I’m sorry to break this but the next door is no where to be seen…” Lydia broke out of the hug “what do you mean… that was the end of the memory wasn’t it. As they formed this triangle position trying to figure out what to do next, they were swiped off their feet and the room shifted to night. All three of them were thrown to the ground in the back yard of Beacon Hills High School. Lydia backed up and placed herself right between Scott and Stiles. Her eyes were in shock of what she saw, it was Peter Hale. She saw her sophomore self wandering the yard yelling "Jackson…” as each field light turned on, one by one. That was until Peter Hale grabbed her and bit her side. Scott knew what had happened that night but it felt painful to actually watch it. 18 year old Lydia wasn’t surprised to see Stiles chasing after her, he had already told her what happened. But one thing that threw her off were these exact words that came out of his mouth “I’m not just letting you leave her here… Just kill me. Look I don’t care anymore.” Lydia gasped. Sophomore Stiles was begging for her life, he was going to risk his to save hers. Stiles rolled his eyes to the ground, he wished Lydia didn’t have to hear that. She worries about him too much already, he doesn’t want her to be spending every amount of energy by his side, he wants her to be able to protect herself. And luckily now she can as her banshee abilities keep getting stronger day by day. Lydia’s eyes looked up to reach Stiles’ she had a faint but worried smile even though this event had passed along time ago “you were going to risk your life for mine?” Stiles smiled back “I always will” her lips trembled. A sound wave hit Scott. It was very mild only he could detect it. He slowly tilted his head upwards and noticed this force of green light surround the night sky. His eyes widened, his jaw tightened and he quickly bear hugged Stiles and Lydia to the ground and covered their heads with his arms. The green light fell on top of them, everything started spinning until it finally stopped.

Stiles opened his eyes. Scott got off of them and pulled them up. “Where are we now”. Stiles slowly turned his head around following the spin of his upper body. “This is it, this is my dream”. Lydia was quick to her feet “alright let’s spread around the room and take in as much information we can get”. Scott and Stiles nodded and split off. They were in a 5 story building with 3 more levels underground. The building appeared to be dark and musty. The blue print found on the side of the building said it was built in the 1930s. This building seemed like it had been abandoned for years. Scott and Stiles searched all the top floors and found nothing but cob webs, old files and a window looking down to the forest. They were buried deep in the rural end, so far away from civilization Stiles was even thinking they may have used this building for secret government operations. Something like the CIA. They wandered each floor until they got to the 1st level basement. Scott and Stiles opened the stairwell doors and it squeaked, the sound sent shivers up Scotts spine, and goosebumps formed on Stiles’ arms “come on let’s go”. They walked down a long hallway, as they got lower and lower they noticed how cold it started getting. Scott pointed out the obvious “well we are underground” Stiles gave him a little whack to the head “yes I’m aware, thank you”. “Guys come here” they heard Lydia’s voice echo through the hallway. Stiles couldn’t pin point where the source was coming from, he turned to Scott “where is she?” “Down the hall, come on” he grabbed his best friends arm and yanked him along. They pushed through the two solid metal doors “did you find anything”. “Yeah, come look”. Scott and Stiles hunched over Lydia’s shoulders. In her hands she held a bestiary book with little side notes in between the pages. They were in some sort of code, Lydia kept staring at it, she tried focusing on each letter, lower case, upper case, numbers, keyboard symbols, she was trying to do the impossible, memorize all of it. But as she read each coded letter, back at Scotts house Lydia’s unconscious body started mumbling something. Malia turned to Deaton “what’s she saying”. “I don’t know but grab a paper and pen, and let’s write down what we hear.” They silently approached the table next to Lydia and wrote every Capital, lowercase letter, number, and symbol they heard. Her mouth kept repeating it over and over like a possessed spirit. In Stiles’ mind Lydia flipped the book to the last page. There she found an address, she suspected it must be the location for where they were right now. Dr. Deaton heard Lydia clearly and wrote down the address on the piece of paper “8123 Forest Laneway, Beacon Hills, California”. All of a sudden she stopped speaking. In Stiles’ mind Scott had picked up on another sound wave. “Guys I hear something, it’s coming from the lowest level”. So they all quickly tapped their feet down the stairs to the lowest level of the building. They burst through the doors and found a group of men in suits discussing some sort of plan. They were speaking in Latin and right away Lydia had stepped forward a metre ahead of the boys. She translated as they kept talking “these teenagers are smarter than we hoped”… “If only they weren’t the ones to open up the Nemiton, this mess wouldn’t exist”… “how are we going to get his power back?”…. “There’s an old myth in that bestiary book of yours… I added on in code”… “Those teenagers are the key to everything, they were the sacrifices for the Nemiton, they hold part of its power within them.”…. “What are you saying professor?”…. “isn’t it obvious, we track those teenagers, claw them and drain what ever power they’re holding in them.” Lydia gasped and almost fainted but Scott and Stiles caught her. Scott looked incredibly concerned and felt her forehead “Lydia what did they say, what happened”. She was breathing uncontrollably until Stiles held her right hand to calm her down. “They’re- they’re coming for you two… the teenagers who brought life back to the Nemiton… they’re coming.” Scott and Stiles looked at each other with a widened eyed expression. Stiles so badly wanted to ask more but he couldn’t while seeing his girlfriend in this shape. Scott and Stiles picked her up by each arm and they dragged her through the hallway. The duo managed to bring her to the top floor which was the warmest floor. Lydia was shivering cold. Stiles took off his flannel and put it on her, Scott took off his navy blue hoodie and added the extra layer on her. Stiles pressed his lips to her forehead while stroking her hair. “Shhhhhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay we’re going to figure it out like we always do.” Scott took a seat next to Stiles and added on “we’re going to come up with a plan, a great one that will work… I promise”. Scott held onto Lydia’s left hand with both of his in an attempt to warm her up. The three of them were still on the top floor of the building, they didn’t move a muscle for a while until they all got warm and their breathing became normal. Lydia looked up at the detailed ceiling. “Stiles, why are we still here. We saw your dream… shouldn’t we be awake by now.” Her very true statement caught Scotts attention “yeah we should be awake by now, shouldn’t we?” All three of them slowly got up and spun around. Stiles squinted his eyes staring off into the far distance “then what the hell is going on… is my mind playing a trick on us”. Scott and Lydia looked at each other, they’ve been in a familiar situation before. Scott got up and grabbed Stiles’ elbow to face him and Lydia. “Stiles, me and Lydia have been through something like this before. We went into your mind to get you back but the Nogitsune kept playing games”. Stiles looked over his shoulder “do you think that’s what my mind is doing now… that we have to find some way out of here”. Lydia nodded her head “I think so.” The last door to the right opened up and it shined an extremely bright light, it was very noticeable right away since it lit up the dim hallways. The three of them took small baby steps together towards the door. Scott was in the middle. He looked straight through the door “hey isn’t that your room”. Stiles squinted his eyes “yeah I think it is”. Lydia felt a lightbulb flicker on in her head. She knew what was happening and she smiled because once again Lydia Martin had figured it out. “Guys that’s it, Stiles’ mind isn’t playing games with us. It’s just not done showing us certain memories. The mind is layed out like a movie at the cinema. You press play but you can’t stop it. You yourself can go to the washroom or get a snack but the movie doesn’t stop playing, and we don’t get out until we see the end”. Lydia stepped through the door first once again. Stiles let out a little chuckle. Scott glanced over to his best friend and once again said “brilliant I tell you, she’s absolutely brilliant”.

The duo followed Lydia into Stiles’ bedroom. Lydia looked around his room with a confused expression. Stiles took a step back and whispered to himself “No…” She’s never seen his room this messy before. There was red string from Stiles’ mystery board it was pinned to a picture of Allison while the other end was tied to kitchen knives, they were stabbed in his bed mattress. There was a fist sized hole in his wall, which suddenly occurred to her, she remembers a painting now in that position. Scott was going through his shelves and found CD cases thrown to the other side of the room. A scatter of pictures trailed in a weird pattern under his bed. Scott gathered all the pictures and placed them in a neat pile. He sat on Stiles’ carpet floor and began to look at them. There were pictures of him and Stiles from when they were little kids, group pictures of him, Scott, Lydia and Allison. The picture of the time they took a road trip up North because Allison heard there was a huge famous milk shake festival. A picture of him and Stiles in their lacrosse jersey, it was the first time they made the cut. A picture of Lydia and Allison hand washing the jeep. There was a picture of Allison’s cross bow and silver arrow. A tear escaped Scotts eye and hit the corner of the glossy printed picture “I miss you Allison”. While Scott and Lydia were going around his room, looking at his misplaced items Stiles just looked at his window. He stared at the trees in the night sky. Whatever was about to go down he definitely didn’t want Scott and Lydia to see or know. His thoughts were scattered everywhere… he needed to find an exit before they saw him, but it was too late. Lydia turned around and yelled “Stiles…” but the present Stiles answered down the room by the windows “over here”. Lydia glanced up “what, I thought you were….oh”. What she was seeing was 17 year old Stiles, he basically appeared the same as 18 year old Stiles the only difference was they were wearing different coloured flannels. This was after the event of loosing Allison. Stiles felt so incredibly guilty he couldn’t live with himself. He just killed one of his best friends, he killed his best friends first love… how could he even live with himself. Stiles had dark circles under his eyes, he was in a cold sweat and was uncontrollably shaking. He pulled the knives out of his bed and jabbed them right into the floor. He started screaming and grabbed his shelf poured out everything inside and smashed it against the wall. He started crying and breathing heavy… he was having a panic attack. He didn’t know how to calm down, he was home alone and definitely couldn’t ask for help at a time like this. Smashing his belongings only made him feel better but in reality was physically making him weaker. He grabbed his bed sheets and threw them in the direction Lydia was watching him. He pulled his pillow and started hitting his bed repeatedly “ITS MY FAULT…. ITS ALL MY FAULT” he started drowning in his own tears while falling down he punched his lamp to the side. He looked up at his mystery board showing a picture of Allison. “It’s- it’s all my fault. You never deserved to die, you did everything you could in your power. I killed an innocent, I killed my best friend.” He slowly took hold of his side stand and collapsed on the wall beside his board. Stiles was now at head level with Allison’s picture. “Ally, I’m so sorry. You were so kind, everyone loved you, I loved you. I fucked up… I fucked up so bad… I deserved to die. Stiles looked to the ground and kept repeating to himself "it should of been me, I deserve to die, I deserve to die, I DESERVE TO DIE!” And he punched another hole into the wall. He swiped off all the painting and posters on his wall and ran to the bathroom. He leaned into the bathroom sink and stared up at his own reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t staring at his reflection though, he was staring at a killer. His eyes widened, and he felt his skin tighten. He whipped open the top cabinet and ran his shaky hands through the shelves. Stiles finally got hold of a jar of pills labelled “rapid relief” and hell he wanted to be relieved so fast. He placed the jar down and leaned back into the sink. He began a swinging pattern, rocking his hips back and forth in anticipation. He looked back up at himself “you’re a killer, you killed one of your friends, you’re going to kill them all… kill yourself”. Stiles stopped his heavy breathing and thought about the last 2 words he had said to himself. He repeated it over and over in a whisper “kill yourself… kill yourself”. His thoughts were so loud even Lydia watching could hear him. Part of him was saying “Kill yourself, what do you have to live for besides being a constant reminder of your mothers death to your father, being a constant reminder to Lydia that her best friend is gone, being a constant reminder that he’s the reason his best friends first love is gone. You have nothing left in this world except the strife, pain and chaos you have left. Leave this life and never come back”. Stiles slowly untwisted the lid off of the jar and poured a handful of pills. He stared at his hand then back at himself, the second wave panic attack started to build on him. He was sweating like crazy and his body was breathing in one big movement. This is when the other part of him said “You’re not ready to die yet. You still need to protect your friends, you still need to help them figure everything out. You’re life has a purpose and you are still so far from the end. You are not a killer Stiles. It was the Nogitsune, the fox spirit that possessed your body to do this. You would never kill someone on purpose, that’s not you Stiles. So wake up from this horrible nightmare, don’t make your nightmares become a reality, wake up Stiles, WAKE UP!” Stiles stopped breathing for a couple seconds, he felt his hand become numb and all the pills in his hand and jar spilled across the white tiled bathroom floor. His eyes felt like they popped out of his head. His body collapsed against the wall, as he leaned his head back. He shut his eyes closed and felt the darkness surround him. He felt like he was falling 600 feet under, he just kept falling and falling and it wouldn’t stop. His heart was pounding so hard and uncontrollably in his chest. He placed a firm hand on his chest and started breathing in and out. He repeated these words to himself “think of happy things, friends, family…” very familiar words that a strawberry blonde had once said to him. He then started to mutter something else “hey look at me, come on stiles. Look at my hands and count with me” more familiar words his best friend had once told him. The 17 year old boy pulled out both of his jittery hands and started counting “1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..10” his breathing started to slow down. He ran both of his hands through his scalp and leaned his head back against the wall. Lydia had bent down in front of 17 year old Stiles. She had just witnessed a broken boy before her eyes. A boy filled with so much guilt and despair, full of darkness and lies. And Scott… he had just witnessed the boy who once called him his brother in an attempt to save his life, break into a million pieces. He had always been there for Stiles at his lowest points but this was the one time his best friend needed him and he wasn’t there. Stiles had turned away from himself, he was so ashamed that a year ago he even had those suicidal thoughts. If that night had been different and he did succeed in killing himself, he wouldn’t have Lydia Martin as his girlfriend. He would have lost his best friend along with the fun memories they have made. He would have broke his father, Stiles was the only family member he had left. How could he ever think of leaving these people he loves so much? All of them care for him so deeply, he would of left a huge dent in them, something that could never be repaired. Stiles was un replaceable.

Now at Scotts house; Scott, Stiles and Lydia’s unconscious bodies violently twitched awake. Stiles stood up from the couch and could already feel the hot tears streaming down his face. Without a single word Scott and Lydia squeezed him in a tight hug. They were crying with him. This hug wasn’t just a pitiful one but a thankful one that he was still alive and with them. Thankful that he had listened to his good conscience that night. Scott clenched his best friends dark brown hair in his hug. Deaton and Malia didn’t bother to say anything, while they just joined in the hug. The room was filled with silence and a few sniffles. They didn’t know about anything the trio had been through or seen in that last 10 hours they had been unconscious. But Deaton could sense the pain and trauma it had caused. He just rubbed Scott and Lydia’s back and smiled that they were all okay. Deaton cares so deeply for these kids like they were his own. The whole group stayed in a family hug for a while as the room fell to complete silence. The only thing heard was the clock ticking back and forth and the loud thoughts coming from Stiles’ mind.

Unknown Protection - Happy Lowman


A protective Happy Imagine.

The day was long and you were more than ready to go home. As you gathered up your pencils and papers from meeting room desk you had just finished helping Bobby work the books with the club. Even though you had no real connection with the club, you were more than happy to help out your twice removed ex uncle Bobby Munson.

“Thanks for the help again, Y/N. Always nice to have someone to hand me things from across the table and not have to stretch.”

He joked. You gave a small laugh yourself and realized just how much have a good man your once uncle was.

“No problem, Bobby. Always happy to help.”

He said as you left to be Chapel room with him. Sitting outside by the bar your eyes wandered around the room and were met with a pair of hardened ones. It was happy but he was sitting there at the bar across the room watching as you walked out with Bobby beside you.

You never really said or did anything to interact with happy, but you were always nice to him because he was as nice as he could be towards you. He never really bothered you or made it seem like he hated you and any reason, aside from those special days when he would avoid you after something happened with the club.

Bobby was nice enough to walk you out and to your car. And along the way the two of you made small talk, until Bobby turned it into something much greater than just how have you been kind of talk.

“I seen Hap lookin your way again.”

Bobby said trying to strike up that type of conversation. You gave a shrug with your shoulders as the two of you continued walking to your car across the parking lot.

“He’s just different. He doesn’t really speak to me, but he’ll watch me like a hawk sometimes. I guess that’s his way of communication when it comes to me.”

You joked.

“So being a creepy stalker is a means of communication now?”

Bobby asked rather serious. You stopped walking as you looked his way with a brow raised.

“Stalking? What do you mean stalking?”

You asked gripping hold of the folders tightly to your chest. Bobby’s I seem to widen as he turned away and muttered something along the lines of I shouldn’t have said that. He turned back to you and gave you the expression that told you he wasn’t in a killing mood anymore and that this was serious.

“Apparently… a couple of weeks ago Happy was following you home when he seen some of the Myans trailing you from leaving here… let’s just say Alvarez wasn’t happy when he found out several of his guys went missing.”

As you cannot get the dots You felt your heart stop and your chest. Questioning as if happy had really killed those men that have been following you home. It wasn’t a big secret that happy was a known killer, it was just a shocker to you that he would have done something like that.

“But… why would he? Why do something like that – ”

Bobby shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just his way of protecting you. Showing you in some odd and creepy way that he cares without actually showing you.”

Bobby said shaking his head and walking toward your car again.

You bet your bottom lip and stopped to think for a moment. If this really was a way of happy protecting you, you had to think about what else he had been doing under your nose that had kept you safe prior to now. And also you started to wonder just how long had he been doing this for?

Do you know what’s so special about Isak and Even though? What pulls you in and doesn’t let go? What’s so impossible not to fall in love with? What it is that gives you butterflies, that makes your heart beat speed up, that takes your breath away, that effects you in all these REAL ways?

…How unbelievably real their love feels, it’s all in the tiniest details, the visible sparkles in their eyes when they look at each other, all  those delicate little touches, the way you see their skin ripple when they stroke each others faces, the way their whole faces light up in the biggest smile from the silly jokes and stupid statements they make, the way that their words are so softly uttered yet still so full of emotion.

The actors are so amazing, the directing, the scripts, the social media and texts…everything about it is so delicately done, with so much care and attention to detail that their world collides with ours and the characters become apart of our lives and apart of us.

I truly believe there with never be anything else quite like SKAM, it’s so rare and nothing else will ever come close, it’s a one time thing, a phenomenon that can never be replicated and I for one will always treasure it and look forward to season after season for as long as we have the pleasure of it being in our lives. 

it is SO WEIRD to me how for some of us, fictional characters are just as much living as our next door neighbors, we want to know about their lives and their habits and their daydreams and their favorite foods and their relationships; they’re our good friends and heroes and sometimes, in a very private way, our personal saviors from certain realities that we can’t or don’t want to suffer. they have depth and dimension beyond just fiction we connect with. they are so REAL to us and you even get to thinking that if you close your eyes and stretch your hand far enough, you can push past that final fourth wall and find them warm and breathing

and then you have other people who are like, “oh yeah, that guy from that one show? he’s a cool character i like him i guess”