Your first love gets you raw and open and naive and strong. Your first love gets the secrets that you never even knew you were meant to keep buried away. Your first love teaches you that love isn’t about reckless kissing and hands all over the place, that it’s actually about learning and understanding and compromise and feeling so happy you might explode.
Your first love takes you to the mountain tops and the stars there are more spectacular than any you’ve ever seen. Your first love sits with you until your head finds a home in the crevice between their neck and shoulder and you want to stay, more than anything, you want to stay.
Your first love laughs at your jokes and suddenly you are the world’s greatest comedian, it doesn’t matter that no one ever found you funny before, it doesn’t matter than tomorrow you still have to face the world. Your first love is like a safe, where you hide the treasures most precious to you because you think they’ll be around forever.
Your first love teaches you loneliness, teaches you about endings and goodbyes and emptiness. Your first love makes breaking an arm sound like a walk in the park. Your first love promises that they won’t forget and you believe them until you see them kissing someone else on the street that you used to meet.
Your first love makes you bitter.
And your second love makes that bitterness go away.
S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #167 // “Talk about your first love?“ ; "I feel like second loves don’t get enough credit.”
And I am afraid that in a few years, I will have forgotten the pain you made me feel or the way your eyes could set my insides on fire and I will meet you on the street or in a supermarket, both of us living new lives without the other, and you will smile at me, mumbling a quick ‘hey’ and then raise a hand to wave goodbye and the second you turn your back on me, again, the safe ground I have found will disappear and I will fall back into that dark corner of my mind where I am still in love with you, still remembering every small act of affection you ever granted me, hopelessly begging you to love me.
Summary: Stiles is bummed about Lydia not liking him. You’re hurt inside because you’ve always loved him. After Stiles gets back from being beaten up, Lydia leaves to find Jackson. (This was when he was a Kanima). His dad sits down to talk with him.
Ship: Stiles x Fem!Reader, Isaac x Fem!Reader
Warnings: sadness, fluff, angst, heartbreak.
I lean against my locker, forcing my gaze away from Stiles. He trailed after Lydia, who hadn’t a care in the world. In fact, she looked like she didn’t think Stiles existed. It was as if he was a fly on a wall. I watch the interaction, a pang in my chest began to grow. I have to admit, I’d always loved him. Stiles, I mean. But, to him, I was never enough. Even when we were younger, I was never beautiful in his eyes. It was excruciatingly obnoxious. I glance at Scott, who stood not far from Stiles. He gave me a pitiful smile. Even before he got his powers he knew I loved Stiles. He knew the interaction broke my heart.
I sent him a smile he knew was fake before walking off. I couldn’t stand to watch it happen again. I am so tired of doing the same thing over and over again. I shake my head to distract myself. The game was tonight so I had to focus. Instead of meeting the pack for lunch in the cafeteria, I made my way to the lacrosse field to practice. I slip on my headphones, blasting them as loud as I possibly could. The more I hit the net, the angrier I got. When I missed the last shot, tears started to corrode in the crooks of my eyes. Not now.. not here.. I pack up my stuff and head home, not bothering to finish my last class. I was never enough… No matter how hard I tried- I would never be enough in his eyes..
Later That Night..
I sat down next to Scott, watching the game begin. I was a little late so I wasn’t able to be there for Coach to pick me. When he saw me though, he lit up. “(Y/n)! We were looking for you everywhere! You’re up to change next!” I nodded, putting on a forceful smile. A few seconds later, a person I didn’t expect to see sat down next to Scott. “Isaac??” I asked, perplexed. “What’re you doing here??” He smirked. A random sensation making its way into my body. A flutter.. of warmth? “I’m here to win. So-” he said looking at Scott. “What’s the plan?” Scott glanced between the two of us, smiling genuinely.
“(Y/n), Issac and you will be up soon. You’ve gotta knock enough people out so I can be on.” We nod in agreement before I made my way into the field. I glance back at Stiles, his eyes on Lydia, who was sitting next to Melisa. She wasn’t even looking back at him. She was watching Jackson. I roll my eyes huffing. Moments like these made me happy that I joined lacrosse. I noticed as soon as I made my way onto the field, the players seemed to tense up. I was the most aggressive player. People from other teams called me merciless. Which I was.
Isaac’s goal was to get as many of our players out so that Scott could get in. My goal was to destroy the other team and stall the game as long as I could. The mere thought of being Scott’s primary weapon made me feel powerful. I was fast. Too fast for any of them to catch. My adrenaline level had sky rocketed. And with this new found anger, I was ready for anything. I squat down low, eyeing each of the boys like they were my prey. My gaze halted when I found a large one. He was tall, really tall. But he was buff with a lot of weight. Ya know what they say, the bigger they are the harder they fall.
My breathing began to pick up as I stalked back and forth. I could tell there was a massive uneasiness between the boys on the other team. I guess my reputation proceeded me. The second they blew the whistle, I bolted across the field, faster than anyone of them could have predicted. Before the burly boy knew it, I dug my body weight from under his feet and through him over my shoulders. His face smacked the dirt like a sack of pudding hit a brick. The crowd ‘oohed’ at my harsh actions. One our players peered over at me, tossing over the ball as soon as I got up from drilling the boy. I ran across the field, dodging every move that came my way.
Finally there stood a boy a few feet in front of me. I smirk, barreling towards him, I push him out of the way before making the goal. However, Coach screamed louder than the rest. They called the point and we started again. Isaac was finally able to get Scott in, however he had to sit out due to an injury. I nod at him, saying with my eyes that it would be okay. Even after though, I felt his gaze harden on me. Something was different with him. I shake my head, pulling my focus back on the game. I paced back and forth, picking my next prey. The whole time though, I felt a pair of eyes watching me. Scott… It was a look of worry, something I was use to seeing from him.
But the look he wore seemed a little different. Not worry for me. Confusion and worry. Confused as to how I was able to do what I did and worried for how heartbroken I actually was. I tore my gaze away, focusing on the game. Stiles scored the last few shots, winning the game for us. I was about to hug him when I realize his gaze was on her. It always was. And then, the lights went out. Screams and shouting echoed the field. I remove my helmet, trying to adjust to my surroundings. And then, the lights came on. People surrounded Jackson, who was apparently dead.
Scott, Isaac and I exchanged confused glances. Mr. Stilinski broke through, shouting. “STILES?! WHERE IS MY SON?!” Oh my god.. They had him.. The rest of the night, I never left the Sheriffs side. I helped put out missing reports and slept in the police station, refusing to leave until he was found. Mr. Stilinski sat down next to me, two cups of coffee in his palms, handing one over to me, I smile as my inaudible thank you. He leans into me, whispering in a fatherly tone. “Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep, sport.” He only called Stiles and I that. I shake my head. “I won’t leave him. I won’t sleep tonight anyways..” He sighs, smiling down at me. “C'mon, you can stay at our house till he comes back.” I nod, taking a deep breath.
The moment we get home she sits down on the edge of his bed. (Y/n) didn’t sleep all night and all day. Mr. Stilinski coaxed her into changing into normal clothes. Besides that though, she remained in his room, at the foot of his bed. Despite her harsh and unhealthy attempts, (Y/n) finally fell asleep, teary eyed with dark circles, she was wrapped in a ball at the edge of his bed. Little did she know, Mr. Stilinski came in, pulling a blanket over her before sitting down at Stiles’ desk. He glanced down at her, sighing. “Where is my son..” A voice croaked from the door. “Right here..” It was.. Stiles. Mr. Stilinski stood up, crying as he hugged his son for dear life.
After a few seconds though, he noticed the dark bruises and marks that cascaded across his face. “Who did this to you?!” He asked with quiet anger, remembering that (Y/n) was still well asleep. Stiles shook his head. “Dad- it was no one- just some kids at the other school who weren’t too happy that we beat them-” He interjected, angry. “I’m gonna have a word with that school-” Stiles shook his head. “No- dad- I’m fine-” Mr. Stilinski pulled him into a hug once more before letting him wake up (Y/n), who laid sleeping peacefully for the first time in god knows how long.
I curled myself deeper into his blankets, breathing in his comforting scent. Seconds later, I hear a mermir of two voices. It stirs me slightly, but doesn’t wake me. Minutes go by before I force and pry my droopy eye lids open there stood on outline of a boy. And then I realized, it was Stiles. Automatic joy rushed through me as i bolted up and off the bed, tackling him onto the floor. I sat on his lap, face burrowed in his neck. I started to shake. “Stiles- I-” He nodded, understandingly wrapping his arms around me. After a few minutes, I let go, eyes wide at his bruises. “Stiles! Oh my god! Who did this to you?!” He takes my wrists, sighing. “I’m fine, (Y/n).”
With one of his thumbs he wiped away a tear. “I was so worried about you.. I thought-” My voice croaked. He pulls me into another warm hug. After talking for a little longer, he finally coaxes me to head on home. I hug him and Mr. Stilinski again before heading home. However, the whole trip home, I couldn’t help but feel broken. I noticed the endless presents on his desk, all of which were for Lydia. And guess where she was? With Jackson.. Always with Jackson. I hated this empty feeling.. I plug my headphones in, blasting the music. I needed to move on..
The minute I walked in the door, my phone buzzed. I glanced down to see that it was from Isaac. We need your help. Meet us at the abandoned warehouse down the street. I look up from my phone, with a determined look. I drop my bag and sprint upstairs, shuffling through my belongings to open up my weapons. After grabbing them, I got in my mustang and headed over to the warehouse.
Mr. Stilinski let Lydia in. She headed upstairs, knocking on his door. “I’m fine, Dad.” The knock came again, Stiles huffed, whipping open the door. “I said I’m fine-” He stopped when his eyes fell on Lydia. “Your dad let me in.” She muttered quietly. A heavy blush rushed through his cheeks. “Uhh- come in.” Cautiously, she did. “What happened to your face?” He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Pff- it’s nothing-” Lydia didn’t bother to press on. Stiles couldn’t help but feel an empty whole in his heart. He wanted her to love him. After a few seconds of silence, he walked over to see her teary.
“They won’t let me see him..” Jackson. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t..What could he possibly say that would ease her? They sit at the edge of his bed. Lydia stands to pace, something that bought her strange comfort. Her eyes soon fell upon a massive pile of presents, mostly unwrapped. “Stiles, why do you have feminine products?” His eyes went wide as he scratched the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t sure what to get you for your birthday, so I just bought a bunch of stuff. Most of which, I’m gonna return.” She pointed at the TV, with a confused expression.
“That, I’m definitely returning.” All of a sudden, she got a text. “You’re gonna wanna see this.” Jackson’s gone. “I have to find him.” Stiles stopped in front of her. “Lydia- it’s not safe- you have no care in the world about your life- but if you die- I’ll go out of the fricken mind!” She rolled her eyes, pushing past him. “Fine. I’ll find him myself.” Stiles called after her, huffing. “Lydia!” She walked out, her strawberry blonde hair bounced up and down as she slammed the door. Stiles didn’t bother following her. He rested his head on the palm of his hand, moving his feet around in the spiny chair.
A few seconds later, Mr. Stilinski leaned against the doorway. “So, you and her? Is there a thing there?” Stiles shakes his head, a sad expression plastered on his face. “No, she’s in love with someone else.” His dad chuckled slightly. Stiles asked puzzled. “What’s so funny?!” Mr. Stilinski shook his head, sitting down next to his oblivious son. “Son, if you haven’t noticed by now- I don’t think you ever will. I know this is not my business but a girl we’ve both known our whole lives has liked you just as long, if not longer, than the girl you were just with. Get some sleep, sport.” And with that, he left stiles to ponder his thought. However, no matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn’t think of anyone.
I pull into the warehouse parking lot. Scott and Isaac stood before me. “I told you not to call her!!” Scott hissed at him. I shake my head, smirking. “With what may or may not go down tonight, you’re gonna need all the help you can get.” I could have sworn Isaac’s eyes raked up and down my body before glancing back at Scott. “She’s right-” He said, biting his lip. “We need her.” Scott rolled his eyes before reluctantly heading in. Deep down, I was like a sister to him and a daughter to Melisa. I understood that he didn’t want to see me get hurt. I mean, I was human after all. To him, I was precious cargo. When we walk, I look over to see Mr. Argent. I was close with Allison so that brought me even closer to Chris. We respected each other. He shakes my hand, a small smile on his face.
“It’s good to see you, (Y/n).” I grinned. “You too, Mr. Argent.” All of a sudden, he tenses up. I run over my shoulder to see Derek walking out dramatically from the darkness. I can’t help but roll my eyes. He looks at all of us before stalking towards Jackson’s body. Scott questioned his motives, looking for something- someone else. “Wait! Where’s Lydia and Peter?!-” Derek mutters, unzipping the body bag. “There’s no time-” He interjected, roughly. “Think about it Scott! Gerard is just going to keep using Jackson- killing more people who dare to get in his way!” Mr. Argent took a few steps forward, shaking his head in denial. “No, no- that’s not true! Gerard wouldn’t let a wild animal let loose!” All of a sudden, another voice interrupted the argument. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.”
I turn over my shoulder to see.. Gerard. And in a matter of seconds, everything went to shit. An arrow shot out from behind Gerard. Scott and I croak at the same time. “Allison?” He had her too. I turn over my shoulder to see Isaac fall down. The arrow. Scott and I run over to him, Derek on the other hand, was thrown into the other room. Mr. Argent shot at the Kanima, Jackson, before running from him. “I’ll make sure he’s okay- GO! Help Chris!” I say towards Scott. Isaac nods, reassuringly. Scott looked between the two of us before running to the other room. I turn my attention back to Isaac. He laughs, despite the pain. “Ya know, (Y/n). Of all the ways to steal my heart- this has to be the worst.” I can’t help but smile. “Isaac, if I was gonna steal your heart- this wouldn’t be my first choice.”
I wrap my hands around the arrow, pulling it out. He groans, his head falling back. My heart picks up slightly at how attractive he looked in this moment. “How would you steal my heart then, (Y/n)?” Automatically, I blush. “I have a few ideas-” I say, winking at him before pulling him up and off the floor. I touch his chest with my hand. The interaction was sweet. “You okay?” He nods, stuttering slightly. I could have sworn his face flushed. “Uhh-yeah- I’m good. Let’s go.” We enter seconds before Derek is thrown to the ground. He gets up and we surround the Kanima. It was as if a whistle blew because in no time, we were fighting in unison. The Kanima, Jackson, threw Scott and Derek to the side. Isaac laid on the floor, not too far from me.
Jackson made his way towards him. And in that moment, it was as if all my pain washed away and the only thing that mattered, was Isaac. I push myself up and run at Jackson with full force. I drop kick him in the stomach before jumping up to punch him. He falls to the ground with a loud thud. “DON’T!-” I punch. “EVER!-” I punch again. “TOUCH!-” And again. “HIM!-” I wrap my hands around his scaly collar, using all my strength and adrenaline to throw him against the concrete wall. It snapped in half. I was fuming, pulsating with energy and rage. It was a new found feeling. And I liked it. I could have sworn I saw a look shared between Isaac, Scott, Derek and Mr. Argent. And then, the adrenaline left. I fall to one knee, looking up to see Isaac holding his side, a smile on his face. However, it quickly fades when knife shards slice through him.
He spits out blood, falling to the floor. “NOO!!” I exclaimed. Allison snickered over his body, her daggers at the ready. Desperately, I begin to crawl over to her. However, before she could make any moves, her weapons fell to the ground with a loud clank. Jackson wrapped his scaly claws around her neck, choking her slightly. She gasps, looking over to Gerard with confusion. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He comes out from the shadows, smirking. Scott watched the interaction with fear. “He’s doing exactly what he came here to do.” Gerard smiled at him. “You knew.. You smelled it on me- at the station.” Isaac croaked, sitting up. “He’s dying..” He nodded. “Sadly, science doesn’t have a cure for cancer- but the supernatural does.” Mr. Argent barked at him, watching his daughter cautiously.
“You monster!! You took away my sister, my wife and now, now you threaten my daughter-!!” Gerard growled back at him. “I WOULD KILL MY OWN SON TO SURVIVE!” He turned his attention back towards Scott. “You know what you have to do Scott.” He looks down, ashamed before lifting Derek up. I push myself up, watching the interaction closely. Gerard lifted his hand up to the sky, letting out a victory cry. However, it was no victory. Seconds later, black goo dropped down his arm. He cried out in pain, glaring daggers at Scott. “MOUNTAIN ASH!!!” Scott glanced back and Derek and I, smiling. “I had a plan.” I couldn’t help but grin. Gerard crumpled to the ground, groaning. Jackson let go of Allison, puzzled now that his master was dead.
Allison turned over her shoulder to kick him away. The minute she did so, a car ran through the door, running Jackson over. I force myself up despite the pain that emulated in my side. Isaac ran over to me, wrapping his hands in my face. “Are you okay?” I nod, looking over to see Rosco. Stiles shrieked as Jackson jumped on top of the car. Lydia hopped out. An empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. He stuck to her, not even bothering to check on anyone else. She stood in front of Jackson, almost weeping. She croaked, holding up the key that he had given her. “Jackson?” The moment he saw it, he shifted back to a human. He hugged her as if his life deepened upon it. The minute they pulled away from each other, Derek and Peter came in for the kill. Lydia gasped, cradling his now lifeless body.
She reluctantly pulled herself away from him. Stiles took a step forward to comfort her. It made my heart break to watch him throw himself at her. However, he paused. We all looked down at him. He rose up, howling before he let out a growl and turned back to normal. Holy shit.. Lydia lunged forward, clinging to him. I glanced back at Stiles. His eyes were wet from heartbroken tears. I was so mad- how could someone as selfish as Lydia do that to someone like Stiles. He gave her everything. And she continued to treat him like dirt.. I turned over my shoulder. Not even daring to say goodbye. But as soon as I started walking, I felt dizzy and disoriented. And then, everything went black.
Isaac watched (Y/n) fall to the ground. Before she hit the concrete though, he caught her, concern washing over his feature. “(Y/n)!?! Scott! I need help! I think she’s lost too much blood!” He ran over to her. As did Allison, Mr. Argent, Derek and Stiles. Isaac lifts her up, cradling her now cold body. “SCOTT-!” He exclaims, petrified. “-SHE’S FREEZING!” Scott glanced at Stiles in fear, (Y/n) meant everything to them. “OKAY- C’MON! Deaton will know what to do!!” They hop in the Stiles’ jeep. Isaac held (Y/n) close to him. He couldn’t help but begin to feel something for her. Little did he know, he was falling for her. He brushed a lock of hair out of her face with his thumb. The interaction was so small yet so intricate.
Stiles drove fast, desperate to help his friend. But deep down, a strange feeling began to bubble inside. It began when he first noticed the intimacy between his dear friend, (Y/n), and the fairly new werewolf, Isaac. The soft touches and lingering looks bothered him to no end. But why would it? Finally, they pulled up to Deaton’s office, shuffling in. An hour pasted before Deaton came out from examining (Y/n). “So, how is she?” Isaac asked, his tone full of genuine concern. He glanced back at her body before eyeing the boys. The rest of them arrive seconds later before the doctor spoke again. “How’s (Y/n)?” Mr. Argent asked, his daughter at his side. Deaton sighed, rubbing his temples. “I was just about to tell the boys before you burst in. Did anything happen to (Y/n) when you fought? Like, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
Scott nodded, glancing between Derek, Isaac and Mr. Argent, who saw the events transpire. “Yeah, she threw Jackson, in Kanima form, across the room and broke the concrete wall in half. She’s human-” Stiles interrupted, wide eyed. “Wait- she THREW Jackson?!?! In KANIMA form?!?!” Derek nodded, jaw tight. “I’ve never seen that kind of power before..” And in that moment, they all looked back at her. Her body was motionless. Stiles looked at his best friend memories of their childhood flouded in his head. “What’s wrong with her..?” His voice croaked. Deaton sighed again. “I was looking through some old supernatural books and there is a story that’s said to revolve around the birth of supernatural creatures. And sometimes, there are true creatures. Creatures that are born with a legacy. Rarely, however, the supernatural can create something- new. It can evolve-” Stiles rudely buds in.
“So, what’s this go to do with, (Y/n)?!” They looked back at her before glancing back at Deaton. “She’s an evolution. A new creation. Completely natural too. Nothing in her system’s out of the ordinary.-” Scott asks, with pure curiouscity. “So, what is she?” He sighs. “She’s human but I believe she’s two other creatures-” He pauses, Stiles shouts. “WHAT IS SHE?!” He looks up at them. “I’m not totally sure-” Stiles barks back at him again. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT SURE?!” Scott pushes him back. “Stiles-” He looked back at Scott and then back at Deaton, breathing heavily through his nose. “Isaac walked forward.
“So, what do you think she is?” The doctor shrugs, shaking his head. “I’m not one-hundred percent sure. There are hundreds of creatures she could be..” Derek nodded. “So what are we gonna do about it?” The vet doctor glanced at the young motionless body. “You keep an eye on her. Her real abilities should finally awaken during the blue moon.” Isaac and Stiles spoke in unison. “That’s tomorrow!” Deaton shrugged. “You boys have a lot of work to do.”
(I hope to turn this into a series. MESSAGE ME or INBOX ME if you want me to continue it. I was thinking succubus and vampire reader??)
30 Day OC Challenge because I need to spam you guys
If anyone else wants to do this with me, I figure these prompts can be answered however you want whether it be telling everyone, drawing, making gifsets, writing a short blurb, whatever!
Day 1- First Impressions: Introduce your character as if we are meeting them on the street. How do they come across to us?
Day 2- If you wanna be my lover: Friends, Family, and SOs. Tell us all about them and their relationship with your OC!
Day 3- When I was a young OC:
What was your OC’s childhood like? Were they a tiny terror or a little
angel? Or did you give them such a traumatic past they didn’t get the
chance to be a kid.
Day 4- Dress to impress:
Is your OC a fashion icon or a throw on whatever is available type of
person? What kinds of clothes will we find in their closet?
Day 5- My English teacher was right all along:
What are some symbols that follow your OC throughout their
journey/story? Do they have any emblems they identify with? If not,
what’s an object that has meaning to them?
Day 6- Whoa, listen to the music: What is your OC’s theme song/theme songs? Explain.
Day 7- Sugar and Spice: How is your OCs relationship with children? Do they plan to have any?
Day 8- A feast fit for kings: What does your OC eat? Do they cook for themselves or are they hopeless in the kitchen?
Day 9- Phenomenal Cosmetic Powers: What three wishes would your character ask a genus for?
Day 10: Itty bitty living space: Where does your character live/ how is it set up? Messy? Minimal? Filled with books or movie posters? Do they share it?
11- Dancing with Myself: How does your OC handle social interactions?
Social butterfly or anxious corner go-er? What large scale social interaction do they face the most?
12- Shop til you drop: (You can do grocery shopping, magic ingredient
shopping, clothes, furniture, ect, or all of the above depending on what kind of world your character is in and how it would relate) How does your
character feel about shopping? Do they buy until they’re broke or have to haggle
Day 13- Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you
home: What’s your OC’s Hogwarts house? Because we all know this is a valid personality test. (Alternately, if you aren’t a fan of hogwarts, what’s their Myers Brigg
Day 14- Self-depreciation at its finest: What does your character dislike about themself? Why? Do other people feel the same way about that trait?
Day 15- I don’t give a damn about my reputation:
What kind of reputation DOES your OC have? Do they know or do they
remain blissfully ignorant? If they do know, what do they think of it?
16- Emperor’s New Clothes: Is your OC a fashion icon or more a throw
on whatever kind of person? What kinds of things would we see in their
Day 17- Everybody’s workin for the weekend: What is your
OCs “job” (however they define that)? Do they love it or do their
co-workers constantly make their life a living hell?
Day 18- I’m bored: What does your OC do in their free time/ for fun?
Day 19- Man’s best friend: How does your OC feel about animals (both wild and pets)? Do they have an animal companion?
20- I can explain, I swear: What would your OC get arrested for? Would
they try to weasel their way out of it, pay off bail, or do the time?
Day 21- On the road again: Does your OC travel? Do they want to? Where would they go? And how?
Day 22- Monsters in the closet: What is your OC afraid of the most?
23- Hi mom: What would your OC get famous for and how would they/their
friends feel about that? If they are famous- do they like it?
Day 24- Tropes are overrated: What tropes does your OC fall into the most?
Day 25- Are we there yet?: What are their ambitions and aspirations? Do they have any real chance at reaching them?
Day 26- Senior Quote: Pick a quote that perfectly describes your OC. Explain.
27- Weapon of Choice: Does your character kill with kindness, slip out
of things with a quick tongue, take an axe to the problem, or just fail
Day 28- A dream is a wish your heart makes: What/Who is the hope that keeps your OC going? What do they live for?
29- They grow up so fast: If you’ve had this OC awhile, how have they
changed from your original idea of them? If they haven’t, how have they
changed as they aged in story?
Day 30- Before we go: Quirks, habits, and fun facts about your OC.
EDIT: I actually finished this once and then accidentally deleted most of it so what probably happened was that was something I remembered and didn’t realize was already on the list: Alternate Day 16- What are your OCs sleeping habits?
When I think of you I think of August,
like when it’s still hot enough to go to the river at night.
We always went to the same spot and always forgot about the mosquitos.
August, like the sky is still pink but summer is almost over and we can feel it;
like newer things are around the corner.
I think of where we used to meet, down the street from the house I grew up in, on the bridge cascaded in dark greens, do you remember?
My palms behind my back, pressed against the wood. Your stomach and my stomach.
I think of how I would write poems about you kissing other girls and how I would pretend not to know.
I used to write about you like you were holy, did you know that?
Kiss your hands like that bridge was a temple; like the water was divine.
You were a saint, everything word you said was a psalm.
I devoted myself to river mosquitos, to your stomach pressed against my stomach.
The glory of a young girl is that everything is sacred.
The ruin of a young girl is that everything is sacred.
This Saturday meet us in the streets with the Street Groomers, Black Lives Matter Atlanta, ATL is READY, and Solutions Not Punishment Coalition - SNaP Co. at English Park and march with the family of DeAudre “Dre Dre” Phillips!
About DeAundre “Dre Dre” Phillips:
On Thursday night, January 26, DeAundre Phillips, a 24-yr-old, Black father, was shot and killed by the Atlanta police. According to the Atlanta Police Department, the two plain clothes detectives involved in the murder of Phillips, approached him after allegedly smelling the scent of “marijaunna” coming from the inside of his car. After Phillips allegegly attempted to flee the scene, the officer fired a fatal shot into Phillip’s neck.
What are we are marching for?
We are demanding that the Atlanta Police Cheif:
1) release the names of the officers involved in the shooting and 2) release all survelliance footage of DeAundre’s murder. DeAundre’s family deserves answers!
Misogyny and the oppression of women is not something that happens to women mainly because the people we meet in the streets see us as “women”. Misogyny is something that happens to us from the moment we are born female because people know we are female and raise and treat us accordingly, and it can re-live inside of us again and again and again and restrain our lives. Misogyny happens in our families and relationships because people know we are female, leading to violence, manipulation, belittlement, sexualization and the violation of our boundaries. Misogyny doesn’t happen because we “present as women”, not even only because we are “women” legally: our bodies are legislated and no matter what we would call ourselves, we would be the group affected by anti abortion politics, cuts on reproductive rights, the stigmatization of menstruation etcetera. Misogyny doesn’t primarly come from calling yourself a woman, or even being seen as a woman on the surface. It primarly happens because we are born female, and it leaks into our self-images, our skin, our blood, our minds through socialization, dehumanization, violence and the experience of living in a patriarchal culture that values female people and voices as less. It’s important to understand what misogyny really is and who actually face misogyny in this world in order to understand why we need to focus female people, girls and women, in feminism.
-tyler goes to bars just to drive drunk girls back home safely
-he works out and gets all beefy so he can protect girls from being assaulted while they’re partying
-wins 50 stuffed toys at theme parks just to give them out to little kids
-he learns American Sign Language just in case he meets fans who use it
-he helps old people cross the street
-helps out at soup kitchens and often gives out food to the homeless with teamiplier
-let’s kids ride on his shoulders and view the world at a different perspective
-sponsors animals at shelters and families in third world countries
-is a volunteer singer at charity drives
-conducts free piano lessons for the kids in his neighbourhood so they can have another passion in life
Waiting for Yongguk was
nothing new. In fact, if you had to look back on your relationship, you would
say that you’d spent the better part of six years waiting for Yongguk. If you
were being honest, though, you never really minded. It was just a part of your
Your waiting for Yongguk began
before you were even an official couple. In fact, it began before you even met
him. The two of you met through mutual friends when he was still going by the
name Jepp Blackman and performing in dingy clubs to less than fifty people.
The night that you met,
Yongguk promised to meet the group you were with as soon as the show was over.
Forty-five minutes after his performance and he was a no-show. The group you
were with knew him better than you. They knew him well enough to know that, as
well-meaning as he was, he could lose track of time much quicker than any other
human being. That was why, after waiting for so long, they were all willing to
just head to dinner without him.
Meet Mac! Found on the streets of the Dominican, he was used as bait in dog fighting, which was obvious from all of his canines being clipped. 2 years later, he’s happy, and healthy, here with us in Canada!
As I carefully negotiate the car back to the motel I am
aware that Scully is unusually quiet beside me; in fact she has barely said a
word since we left the auditorium and while I’m more than accustomed to the
companionable silences that often stretch between us, this seems different
somehow because the vibe she is giving me, while not annoyed exactly is
certainly more than a little off.
If it weren’t for the residual floodwater that occasionally
laps almost to the bottom of the door seals when we hit a dip in the road I
would probably find some way to question her on it but right now I am more
concerned with us getting back in one piece.
The problem being of course is that the longer I don’t speak, the less
inclined she will be to tell me what is bothering her. She has always been the same way and I’ve discovered through years of trial
and error that if I can catch her early enough, before she starts to
rationalise, I have a slim chance of her opening up; but leave it too long and
the book is closed for good.
So I risk a glance in her direction, surprised to discover
that she isn’t looking straight ahead as her profile suggested, but that her
head is actually angled slightly toward mine, watching me as I drive us through
the deserted streets. The minute my eyes
meet hers though she swallows and looks away, a curious expression on her face
that seems like a mixture of embarrassment and something else I’ve never seen
before and which I can’t quite put my finger on.
“You okay Scully?”
I fully expect to hear the usual verbal fallback from her in
response to my question and I’m totally unprepared when she simply shakes her
head slightly and presses her lips together in a tight thin line – in fact if I
didn’t know her better I would swear she is trying not to cry. And I’m mystified because as far as I can
see, our night has been pretty successful at least inasmuch as we actually
managed to close a case with some kind of positive resolution for all
concerned. The rain stopped, order was
restored, the good guy finally got his gal and no one died; all in all I that’s
a pretty damn fine result for us.