u.c. davis

Allison- Not Anymore

Request-  Hi! I really love your writing! <3 Could you do an Allison imagine? The pack’s been off to college but comes back because of a new threat. Scott brings along the reader, a hunter friend he made at college. The pack really likes her, except Allison who feels like she’s been replaced as the pack’s hunter. But everyone else just thinks she’s jealous cause Scott and Y/N are pretty close. With time Y/N earns Allison’s respect and a little bit more than that. So now she really is jealous - of Scott.

Laughter and voices drifted down the stairs, causing Allison’s steps to quicken with excitement. They were light and familiar, and she couldn’t help the pang that sparked in her chest at the unmistakable sound of family.
Scott, Stiles, and Lydia had been away from Beacon Hills for almost an entire year. Now that the semester was over, they were back for the summer, and this would be the first time she would see them since spring break.
That might not seem like a long time to someone who hadn’t fought for their life and nearly lost it with their best friends, but that kind of thing drew people together in a bond that took a lot to break. Each month she spent away from them left her constantly worried, not only for their safety, but also that they might leave her and Beacon Hills behind for good.
She lived for these moments, the ones where everyone finally came back to her. Yes, she had Malia in Beacon Hills, but that was nothing like having the whole pack together again.
“…all I’m saying is that you don’t understand my pain.”
Stiles’ voice drifted out through the open door of Derek’s loft. The Former Alpha had left it behind when he disappeared from Beacon Hills with Braeden, and it was usually the place to be for parties, pack meetings, and now, reunions.
“The food sucks,” Allison heard Stiles complain. “I’m pretty sure they dug up the dirt from the shooting range and just put it in the casserole.”
“At least you know what you’re supposed to be eating,” another voice fired. “I’d rather dirt than the U.C. Davis special.”
Allison froze on the stairs. This voice was new and unfamiliar, and she felt her heart sink.
“Which is?”
“Mystery meat,” Scott answered.
“My bet is on horse,” the stranger added.
Allison warmed at Scott’s familiar voice, but as she came up to the door, she frowned.
Lydia was sitting on one of the couches, with her legs up and thrown over Stiles’ lap. Malia was sitting with her back up against the couch, resting on the floor next to the the heels the Banshee had kicked off. Scott was leaning against the armchair with a grin on his face, but Allison didn’t know the person who was sitting inside it.
Malia noticed her first, standing self-consciously in the doorway. Allison didn’t usually suffer from a lack of confidence, but the fact that some stranger was here, mingling with the pack when it was supposed to be their day, left her hesitant.
“What’s wrong with you?” Malia asked, her dark brows furrowing as she looked up at the Hunter.
“N-nothing…” Allison said with a frown.
“Allison!” Lydia called with a grin, jumping out of Stiles’ lap and heading over.
She pulled the taller girl down into a hug, squeezing her tightly. “I have so much to tell you.”
Allison felt a smile pulling at her lips. “Good. Nothing’s really happened here in awhile.”
“It’s about to,” Lydia sing-songed, nodding to the girl on in the chair. “Allison, meet Y/n. Y/n, meet Allison.”
You jumped out of the chair and walked over, flashing the brunette a friendly smile. “Hey. Apparently, we have a lot in common.”
“We do?” she asked, looking over at Scott questioningly.
Scott tilted his head at her, questioning her weird behavior.
“Y/n was in my Bio 100 class,” Scott explained. “I was walking her back from the library one night last semester, and-”
“A werewolf tried to jump them!” Stiles called out, and Allison concluded he was way too excited about this.
Scott frowned at him, then turned back to her. “Yeah, he’s heard the story. Anyway, I was about to wolf out, but before I could, Y/n, just whipped out a knife and stood in front of me.”
Allison blinked her wide brown eyes, and studied you. You stood with confidence, which only made you so much more attractive to her. Your eyes were bright and smiling, and if she wasn’t so jealous, she would have been fighting the urge to melt under their gaze.
“You’re a hunter.”
You grinned. “And so are you.”
“So…we’re taking in strays now?” Allison asked, her lips tight as she glanced at Scott.
You let out a short laugh. “I guess that’s what you’d call me.”
“I thought she could come home with me for a month or so,” Scott told her. “Since so much happens here, I thought it would be a good idea to have a little back up. Especially some experienced backup.”
“Like we’re not experienced?” Allison asked.
She was well aware of the way Malia and some of the others were side-eyeing her, but she didn’t care. She fought the urge to ask outright if you were supposed to be her replacement. Everyone seemed to be moving on, and maybe that meant a new pack.
“I’m sure you guys have seen some shit,” you cut in. “So have I. And since my parents are traveling, I just thought that when Scott invited me, I’d say yes. If I’m imposing-”
“No way!” Scott cried, shooting a sharp look at Allison. “You’re my friend. And you’re a life-saver. You’re welcome here, right Allison?”
Allison swallowed, and forced her lips into a smile. “Right. Sorry, I just…I’m just used to us, you know?”
She watched as the tension disappeared from your shoulders, and suddenly felt bad for making you feel unwelcome. Luckily, you didn’t seem to be too uncomfortable.
“I totally get it,” you told her.
“Alright,” Stiles said, clapping his hands together. “Who’s paying for pizza because I am starving for some normal food.”
“Uh, you?” Lydia offered.
Stiles scoffed. “Uh, struggling college student here.”
“And I’m not?”
“You’re already a junior!”
“Exactly, which means I have superiority.”
Allison smiled as she listened to them bickering, and when she looked away she found herself meeting your eyes. Scott was grinning down at you and nudging your shoulder, but you were looking at her. She resisted the urge to smile back, telling herself that you were only getting in the way here.
Scott was standing next to you like you were old friends, and Allison was once again left out on her own. A sick feeling washed over her as she realized that even though everyone was back, it might not be like old times after all.
The burn of eyes on her face caused her to look up, and she saw Malia staring at her.
“What?” she mouthed.
“Jealous,” the Coyote mouthed back.
Allison frowned at her and shot her a sharp look, but Malia simply shrugged. As much as she hated to admit it, the other girl was right, and it was only going to get worse.

“So, when did you find out about all this?” you wondered, as you stared up at the trees overhead.
There had been a rare flare up of wild animal activity in Beacon Hills, no doubt a result of something scaring them out of the woods. Scott had ordered daily patrols before sunset, and tonight, you were paired up with Allison.
“You mean the werewolves?” she asked, fingers tight on her bow.
“Yeah.”
“My sophomore year of high school. I only really found out because of Scott.”
“Your parents weren’t going to tell you?” you asked curiously.
“Well, when did you find out?”
“I was ten. I’ve been training ever since.”
Allison blinked. “Ten.”
“Ten,” you repeated with a nod. “My childhood ended pretty early.”
Allison nodded in understanding. “So did mine.”
Maybe she had been a little older than you, but with Kate, her mom, and almost dying that night at Oak Creek, she was forced to grow up faster than most teenagers. Her childhood had pretty much ended the moment her aunt’s throat was ripped out in front of her.
“So, uh, why didn’t you and Scott come to dinner with us the other night?” Allison asked, switching the subject.
“Oh, I was already helping his mom make dinner,” you explained. “She wanted to cook for me, but I just felt weird not doing something.”
“You were helping Melissa make dinner?” she repeated with a frown.
“Yeah…is there something wrong with that?” you asked cautiously.
“No, it just kind of sounds like something a girlfriend would do.”
“Oh…wait, Allison are you actually jeal-”
The snap of a twig from farther off in the woods caused you both to freeze, and glance around.
“Could you be any louder?” a familiar voice growled. “I’m pretty sure you’re what’s scaring everything out of the woods.”
“I’m sorry if I don’t have the grace of a coyote, Malia.”
“Whatever. At least you’re not wearing heels.”
Bushes rustled to your left, and you and Allison watched as Malia and Lydia emerged from the brush. “Hey.”
“Why’d you guys stop patrolling?” you asked them.
“We were bored,” Malia answered with a shrug.
Allison rolled her eyes. “Guys, seriously-”
Lydia waved her hand, cutting the Brunette off. “Don’t worry, Allison. We haven’t seen anything for the past week. And nothing’s going to happen in the day anyway.”
The Hunter crossed her arms over her chest, and you decided she looked adorable when she was frustrated. “Lydia-”
“Fine,” you told her. “But we can’t just leave. We’ve got, like, half an hour until sunset.”
“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do until then?” Malia wondered.
Lydia glanced between you and Allison, and a smile suddenly appeared on her pink lips. She grabbed Malia’s arm and tugged her down to her level, whispering something in her ear.
You and Allison shared an annoyed look, because of course you were the only two without supernatural hearing.
Malia eventually smiled, and shot a grin your way. She straightened up and announced “I like it.”
“Like what?” Allison asked suspiciously.
“We figured since you’re both hunters, and we’re both bored, you guys could have a little competition.”
“Lydia, I don’t think-” you began.
“What do we do?”
You glanced over at Allison, shooting her an incredulous look. She simply shrugged at you, and you sighed.
“Well, it can’t be archery since you don’t have a bow,” Lydia explained. “But you both have knives, right?”
The two of you nodded, and you pulled a knife from your belt as she pulled one from her boot. “Okay, now what?”
“Throw it at that tree,” Malia suggested. “Whoever gets closer to the center wins.”
“I don’t know,” you told her. “I mean, I’ve been doing this for a really long time-”
“What?” Allison demanded. “You don’t think I can keep up?”
“Wha-no. It’s just, archery is your thing, not knife-throwing.”
“So you don’t think I can keep up?” she repeated, her lips turning up.
“Allison-”
“We’ll see.”
She turned to face the tree Malia had pointed out, and then then she pulled her arm back. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the knife sailing into the trunk, and it landed a few inches from the center.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows at you, and you took a deep breath and adjusted your grip on the knife. She moved to the side and you took her place, and then threw the knife toward the tree. It landed smack in the center, just a short distance closer than Allison’s had.
“Allison-” you began.
She flushed, and looked over at you reluctantly. “Nice throw.”
“Damn,” Malia commented.
“Looks like we might have a new hunter on our hands,” Lydia remarked.
Allison shot her a sharp look, and suddenly dropped her bow to the ground. It fell to the dirt with a thump as she whirled away and stalked off into the woods, and Lydia’s eyes went wide. She looked over at you, and then back to her friend, guilt clouding her features.
“What the hell was that for?” Malia demanded.
You shook your head, and instead of answering, you headed off toward the trees Allison’s back had disappeared into.
“Allison!” you called.
You caught a glimpse of her blouse in the trees, and you could tell that she slowed a little at your voice, but she wasn’t stopping. You jogged over, trying to catch up, and she didn’t look at you once.
“Leave me alone, Y/n.”
You blinked, slightly hurt by her tone, but you weren’t going to turn back.”What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” she asked, whirling around.
The setting sun cast a warm glow over her, sending her dark hair into streaks of gold and lighting up her angry eyes. You took a step back, but then thought better of it.
“Yeah,” you said, straightening up. “Ever since I got here, I’ve been trying to make an effort to get to know you. And sometimes I think, wow, she really likes me, we could be friends. Maybe even best friends. And then other times, like…like when I’m with Scott, it’s like you wish I never showed up.”
“I have a best friend,” Allison told you.
“Yeah, well I don’t,” you informed her bitterly. “You know what it’s like to be a hunter. You know how lonely it is. When I found out about Scott…god, I thought I might actually be able to find someone I can be honest with.”
“Then why don’t you just go hang out with Scott?” she demanded.
“You’re jealous,” you stated, your eyes going wide. “That’s what this is about. All this time, and you’ve just been pissed that I’m spending so much time with Scott, and you’re not.”
“No,” Allison snapped, stepping even closer.
“Yes!” you cried. “Look, you don’t have to be jealous of me. I already told Scott-”
“It’s not you I’m jealous of!” she yelled.
Her sharp voice echoed through the trees, scaring off two or three birds and causing you to freeze. “What?”
“I’m jealous of Scott,” she said quietly. “Not you. At first, I didn’t like you crashing the pack, but you’re amazing, Y/n. You’re such a better hunter than I am. You’re…you’re fucking deadly, and coming from me, that’s a compliment.”
“Allison-”
“You’re out of my league,” She continued softly, her voice hopeless. “And I see you with Scott, and you’re doing the things that a girlfriend would do, and maybe…maybe I want you to do those things with me. So sometimes I do wish you never showed up, but only because I can’t stand seeing you with him.”
“Allison,” you began, reaching out to place your hands on her arms. “I’m not dating Scott. He asked me out a few months ago, but I told him that, uh…well, I told him he wasn’t my type.”
“Your type?” Allison repeated.
“He’s not a girl,” you stated plainly.
“Oh,” Allison realized, her brown eyes going wide. “Oh!”
“But you…you are definitely my type.”
Allison had been holding back for weeks, pushing all of that sexual tension into anger toward you. But those words were all she needed to break the dam, and all those bottled up feelings seemed to flow out right then and there. She placed her hands on your cheeks and pressed her lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip.
You let out a shocked moan, but you definitely weren’t complaining, and Allison could tell. One of her hands left your cheek and cupped your hip, drawing you closer to her than you ever dared to think you’d be.
Her lips were warm against yours, and reached up to trail your fingers across her cheek as she tangled her fingers in your hair, tugging gently. She pulled away briefly and walked you back against a tree,, only to kiss lightly along your jaw, and down toward your neck.
“Y/n! Allison!”
She pulled away as the blue of Malia’s cardigan appeared through the trees, and you hoped your flushed face wasn’t a dead giveaway, but that was wishful thinking. Malia smirked as she came closer, and opened her mouth.
“We worked it out,” Allison cut her off.
“I can tell,” Malia told her knowingly.
Allison shot her glare, but Malia shrugged. “Hurry up. It’s getting dark, and I don’t want to get attacked tonight.”
“Fine,” she agreed, raising her eyebrows at Malia.
She looked back at you, and saw that you were smiling at her. Allison felt admiration wash over her, and she watched as you turned and headed back toward Lydia. She tilted her head and admired the fact that you were hers now, and her lips broke into a grin.
She started to head after you, but Malia leaned down to whisper in her ear before she could.
“Told you you were jealous.”
Allison rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile on her face. Even though she would never admit Malia was right, the other girl had a point, and Allison couldn’t say she minded.
“Not anymore.”

An Activist and a Scientist Break Ground in the G.M.O. Debate

Amanda Little writes about a recent debate between Michael Pollan and Pamela Ronald, a prominent plant geneticist and a professor at U.C.-Davis, over G.M.O. foods: http://nyr.kr/1rrzURm

“It’s not easy for anyone, let alone a plant geneticist who spends fifty hours a week directing a large laboratory, to persuade a crowd of young activists to shift their thinking on one of the most contentious environmental debates of our time.”

Photograph of Pamela Ronald by Roy Kaltschmidt.

Stiles- I Feel Like I’ve Known You Forever

A/N- Alright, so I got major support for Control, and this is part 2 in that series. Here’s the link to part 1 and there will be a part 3 coming out tomorrow!

“Yeah,” Stiles told you, as you stood in the hallway between your rooms. “It’s, uh, it’s a nickname.”
“Hm,” you said. “So what’s your real name?”
Stiles felt something inside of him breaking, for what felt the hundredth time that summer. You already knew the answer to your question, you just didn’t know you knew. He wondered if those memories were really gone for good, or if there was some way he could trigger you into remembering. If that was true, he knew he couldn’t let that happen.
“I kind of don’t like to say,” he told you.
“Ah, a challenge,” you remarked. “I bet I can find out.”
Stiles blinked, and he felt his lips breaking into a grin. “You can try.”
“I’m about to go to dinner,” you told him. “You wanna come with?”
Stiles thought about this for a few seconds. Scott had asked for him to keep an eye on you (as if he wasn’t planning on it already), but he had also warned that it was a good idea for Stiles to keep his distance, in case he had missed any memories. They would be deeply repressed, but anything could trigger them floating to the surface, and that was what the Pack had been afraid of.
Regardless of Scott’s warnings, you were Stiles’ best friend, and he would be damned if he let you be alone in the dining hall.
“Sure,” he told you. “Are you meeting anyone? I don’t wanna crash a good friendship or anything.”
You shook your head. “I haven’t really met anyone. My roommate has tons of friends here already. It’s so crazy. I mean, I didn’t have many friends in high school, so I’m used to being alone.”
You blinked suddenly. “You know, I just realized how sad that sounded. Wow.”
“It’s cool,” Stiles told you. “I only had a few good friends myself.”
“You still talk to them?” you asked.
“Some of them,” he said. Technically that wasn’t a lie.
“Well, they say college is the time to make some more,” you said with a shrug. “And now I guess I have one.”
Stiles smiled. “Yeah.”
“So, dinner?” you asked.
“Of course,” he breathed. “I’m starving. Well, honestly, I’m always starving.”
“Same here,” you told him, beginning to head down the hall. “My parents used to tell me I had the metabolism of a werewolf.”
Stiles nearly choked. “A-a werewolf?”
“Yeah,” you told him with a laugh. “You know, claws, fangs, grr?”
You held up your hands and curled your fingers to mimic claws, and Stiles fought to compose himself. “Oh, right.”
“Of course they didn’t actually think they were real, it was just something funny they always said…at least I think it was,” you said.
“They sound cool,” he said, immediately realizing his mistake.
“They were,” you said quietly.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed. “I-I didn’t mean-”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you told him. “They died a few months ago, but there was no way you could have known. It’s not your fault.”
Stiles swallowed. “Yeah. You know, my mom died too. When I was eight.”
“I know you’ve heard this a million times,” you told him. “And trust me, I know from experience that it gets meaningless after a while, but I’m really sorry.”
He nodded appreciatively. “It was a long time ago. I still miss her though.”
“I miss my mom too,” you whispered. “She was without a doubt the strongest person I’ve ever met. And I know some really strong people.”
“Oh yeah?” Stiles asked with a smile. “Like who?”
“Like…like…” you suddenly trailed off. “You know, I don’t even remember who I was thinking about.”
You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. You honestly didn’t know what was wrong with you.  “Sorry about that.”
“It’s cool,” Stiles told you. “You’re probably just hungry. And me? Well, I’m just looking forward to those curly fries.”
You grinned. “Same!”
You and Stiles talked all the way to the dining hall. You crossed the quad, walking side by side, and the two of you just seemed to click. You had never had a best friend in high school, or even a close one, but you imagined that this was what it must feel like. Even when you got your trays, paid for your meals and sat down, you and Stiles still hadn’t stopped talking. You seemed to bond from the smallest things, like your mutual love of curly fries, to the big ones, like both having parents who had passed away.
“Oh, shit,” you swore, looking down at your plate. “I forgot ketchup. I’m always doing that.”
You began to get up, but Stiles’ voice caused you to freeze.
“Here,” Stiles offered, tossing three or four packets onto your tray. “I got extra.”
“Thanks,” you remarked, sitting back down and tearing one open. “Wow, maybe we really are meant to be friends.”
Stiles felt a sad smile cross his lips. “Yeah, maybe we are.”
You smiled back, and Stiles felt himself relaxing. Maybe this was wrong, to be your friend when there was so much you didn’t know, when there was so much he could never tell you, but he couldn’t resist. You losing your memories had done nothing to make him stop loving you, and maybe Lydia had been right. Maybe Stiles was selfish, but even if you didn’t have your memories, he wasn’t willing to give you up.

“Have you seen her?” Scott questioned over the phone that night.
He was just getting settled into his room at U.C. Davis, but he still needed to take the time to call Stiles and check in.
Have I seen her?” Stiles repeated. “Scott, she lives in the room across from mine.”
“Oh, shit,” Scott breathed. “Dude, you have to get a transfer.”
“What?” Stiles demanded. “No-”
“Stiles,” Scott cut him off. “What if she remembers?”
“So what if she remembers?” he asked. “It wasn’t right to take her memories in the first place-”
“Stiles, please tell me you aren’t trying to get her to remember,” Scott begged.
“No!” he protested. “No way, Scott. But if it happens on it’s own-”
“It could drive her crazy,” Scott reminded him. “Remember what Deaton said? I took most of the memories. Even if she still has a few, there’s no way she can remember the others. It’ll drive her insane. She’ll think she’s going crazy. It’ll ruin her.”
“Scott-” he protested.
“Transfer rooms, Stiles,” Scott ordered. “You can keep an eye on her, but you can’t be friends. You can’t get her back.”
“Says who?” Stiles demanded. “I thought being an alpha came second to being my friend.”
“Stiles, you know I’m not trying to-” Scott started.
“I know exactly what you’re trying to do,” Stiles told him. “You miss her too. You’re just upset because I get to see her every day now, and you have to live with the fact that you took her away from all of us.”
“Stiles,” Scott whispered. His voice was hurt and broken, and Stiles knew he had gone too far, but at the moment he didn’t care.
“Call me when you actually want to help me,” he stated bitterly, and ended the call.
He slammed his phone down onto his desk and hopped onto his bed, which was raised a good five feet off the ground. Part of him wondered if he could crawl under there and hide for the rest of his life, living off of his roommate’s protein powder and gatorade.
Seriously, the dude had like two gallons of it stocked in his mini-fridge, and another six grates of it under his bed. He was a volleyball player name Dave, who could probably just step on Stiles if he really wanted to, but luckily he didn’t have much interest in being friends, or even talking to him.
“Stilinski,” Dave stated, as he walked out of the suite bathroom in nothing but a towel. “You’re not gonna be on the phone all night, are you?”
“Nope,” he told him. “I’m done.”
“Good, cause I’ve gotta get a good sleep before practice tomorrow,” he told him. “It’s not personal or anything.”
Stiles blinked. “Thanks?”
Dave nodded sincerely, as if he really thought he was doing Stiles a favor, and that was when Stiles hopped off the bed to go brush his teeth.
The more he thought about it, though, the more Scott’s words resonated with him. He spit foamy Colgate into the sink, and felt a sinking feeling in his chest. What if  Scott had been right? What if being around you caused even the smallest memory to resurface? Even if you didn’t know Stiles, Stiles knew you, and he knew that you were just as determined as you had always been. If you knew something was missing, you would never stop until you found it.
Anyone would go crazy if half their life was missing, and Stiles had witnessed firsthand what your parents’ deaths had done to you. If you had to relive it all over again, you might break. Scott was right, he decided. He had to distance himself.

It took him a few weeks to get the time to go talk to Campus Housing, but when he finally did, he realized switching rooms wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.
“There are no empty rooms this year,” the woman manning the desk told him with a deep sigh. He guessed she had given the same speech about a thousand times before. “This is a huge freshman class, and we’ve gotten countless requests to transfer. Unless you can find someone willing to switch with you, it’ll probably be about three months before people start dropping out.”
“Three months?” Stiles repeated weakly.
“Three months,” she confirmed with a roll of her dark eyes. “You wanna fill out a form anyway?”
“No,” he told her, backing away from the desk. “Thanks for all your help though.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said gruffly, going back to typing on her computer.
“Stiles!” a voice called, causing him to turn.
You were walking into the building, a bright smile on your face when you met his eyes.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“You know how the air conditioning in my room has been broken since we got here?” you explained. “Well, we filled out a maintenance slip three weeks ago, but no one’s gotten back to us.”
“Oh god,” he said. “Seriously?”
You nodded. “I’m pretty sure I’m slowly melting inside. What about you?”
“Nope, I’m all good,” he told you, patting his chest. “Everything is solid in here. Well, as solid as it can be, since I don’t really hit the gym as much as I should-”
“No, you idiot,” you said with a laugh. “I meant why are you here?”
Stiles felt his heart clench at your words. You had said something like that to him a thousand times before, and hearing you say it again was almost painful.
“I was trying to switch rooms,” he admitted.
“Oh, damn,” you remarked. “Is your roommate really that bad?”
“He’s alright,” Stiles told you with a shrug. “He could be worse.”
“Well, you’re welcome to chill in my room anytime,” you told him. “If you wanna brave the oven.”
Stiles nodded. “Maybe.”
“You know I haven’t seen a lot of you,” you told him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’ve just gotten really busy, you know? Midterms are gonna be coming up soon.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you said with a groan. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
“Probably just studying,” he told you.
“Me too,” you told him. “My roommate invited me to this party, but I’m probably just gonna stay in.”
Stiles frowned. “Yeah Dave said something to me about a party. Well, actually what he said was ‘It’ll be fun, Stiles. Even someone like you can have a good time.’, but you get the idea. You should go and have fun though. Live it up a little, you know?”
“Jesus, your roommate really is that bad,” you said. “You’re right though. Maybe I’ll go if you’re gonna be there.”
Stiles pursed his lips and nodded. “Maybe I will.”
“Cool,” you said a with a grin. “Well, wish me luck with the air conditioning thing. I’ll see you later?”
Stiles nodded. “See you later.”
He watched you turn away and walk up to the front desk, where the woman with the attitude was waiting for you to explain yourself.  You flashed her a bright smile and ignored her rudeness, something Stiles knew you had always done. You tended to be sweet to everyone, until you decided that it was time to stop. Stiles had seen it more than a few times, with guys who wouldn’t leave Lydia alone, or with bullies when you were younger.
It was that mentality that made you a hero to Stiles, and here he was, unable to tell you that. Luckily, he would soon be able to.

You sighed as you pushed past the sweaty crowd in the foyer of the frat house, and tried to make your way to the kitchen. Once you were there, you quickly dumped your drink in the sink and tossed the plastic cup into the overflowing trashcan. You had originally planned on drinking, on having fun like Stiles suggested, but the minute your roommate ditched you, you decided you didn’t really need to. Besides, you weren’t about to get shitfaced with a bunch of strangers, especially in a place you weren’t very familiar with.
As you walked down the hallway to leave, you caught sight of a girl stumbling against the wall. She was blonde, wearing heels that must have been uncomfortable, and you recognized her from you Intro to Psychology class. You were about to dart forward and help her, just as a large guy in a Cal State hoodie grabbed her by the soldiers.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
The girl nodded, but something about the way the guy was gripping her shoulders set you off. It was almost possessive, and judging by the fact that the guy had appeared out of nowhere and didn’t seem to know her name, he probably didn’t have good intentions.
“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.
When she weakly shook her head no, he just slid his arm around her and started to lead her out. She was so out of it that all she could do was shuffle forward, but you could see that she was trying to meekly shove him off.
“Come on, it’s alright,” he was insisting, tightening his arms around her and pulling her toward the door. “I’ll just take you back to your dorm.”
Panic flared up inside you, but you knew you had to stay calm. The crowd seemed to part for the guy, and you guessed he was popular on campus, but you had some trouble getting through. You shoved past the mob of people and finally burst out into the warm, late September air.
You could see the guy tugging the girl down the sidewalk, but you knew she was a freshman, and the freshman dorms were the opposite way.
“Hey!” you cried out. “What do you think you’re doing with my friend?”
You jogged over, but the guy plastered a fake smile on his face. “I’m just taking her home.”
“Yeah?” you asked, nodding to the left. “Freshman dorms are that way.”
“Right,” he said. “Thanks. You can go back in now.”
“I should probably come with you,” you told him. “Just in case she needs someone to hold her hair.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What’s her name then?”
“Eliza,” you lied, so convincingly, that the dude frowned. “And you better let go of her before I call campus security.”
“Really?” he asked, letting go of the blonde and leaving her to stumble to the ground. “Because I’m pretty sure I could put some bruises on that pretty face before you could even pull out your phone.”
You bristled and stepped forward, having no idea what you were doing. It wasn’t like you to be so bold, but this felt right. It felt like instinct.  “You wanna try?”
“Are you serious, right now?” he asked, leaning down.
“Get out of my face,” you spat.
“Or what?” he asked, leaning closer.
As this was going on, Stiles had been walking toward the address Dave had texted to him. He was looking forward to meeting more people and just forgetting about what was going on for a few hours, but when he walked up and saw you standing there, with some huge, roided up asshole leaning over you, he realized his plans would have to change.
He blinked as you lunged up and slammed the heel of your hand into the guy’s nose, causing a crunch to echo out into the warm night. The guy let out an overdramatic scream of pain, and he moved forward to punch you, but you quickly ducked, caught his arm, and then twisted it behind his back.
“Back off,” you spat. “Or I’m going to call security. Maybe they can bring someone to fix your nose.”
“Let me go, you bit-ah! Ah, okay! Okay, I get it! Just let me go, please. Please don’t break my arm, okay, I’ve got a whole season to play.”
You snorted and dropped his arm in disgust, keeping what Stiles recognized as a fighting stance in case the guy tried to come at you again.
“Is everything alright over here?” Stiles caused, walking over with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah,” the guy spat, turning around and storming back into the house, all while pinching his nose.
“Holy shit,” you breathed, when he was gone.
“Holy shit, is right!” Stiles cried. “Y/n, what the hell was that?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea?” you asked him. “I-I don’t even know how I knew how to do that.”
Stiles swallowed. “It’s okay, just tell me what happened.”
“I think he was trying to rape her,” you said softly, nodding to the girl on the ground. “He was trying to walk her somewhere else and he said it was her dorm, but she’s a freshman and he was going to wrong way.”
Stiles nodded and followed you to where you knelt next to the girl. “Hey, are you hurt?”
She looked up at you with watery eyes. She seemed a little more sober now, but not much. “No. I-I don’t think so. I don’t…where are my friends?”
“I don’t know,” you told her. “We can call them though. Want us to?”
She sniffed and nodded, and you reached into the pocket of her jeans to pull out her phone and hand it to you. “Password?”
She reached out for the phone and groggily tapped the screen. It took her several tries, but she eventually got it right.
“Which friend?”
“Sher…Sheryll,” she slurred.
You nodded and hit call, and thank god the girl answered her phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Sheryll?”
“Yeah, who is this?”
“My name is Y/n,” you told her. “I have your friend’s phone. She sitting here in front of the SAE frat house and me and my friend just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”
“Oh god,” she breathed. “You found Phoebe?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Jesus, we’ve been looking everywhere for her. She was supposed to be sitting on the couch.”
You heard her calling out to someone in the background. “Someone found Phoebe…Okay, hey we’ll be out there in a sec. Thank you so much.”
She hung up the phone, and handed it back to the girl. She simply let it fall to the ground, and then she turned to the side and threw up. You reached forward and held back her hair, shooting a relieved look at Stiles. He simply nodded at you, and a couple minutes later, two girls were running down the steps of the frat house.”
“Oh god,” the girl whose voice you recognized breathed. “Thank god. What the hell was she doing out here?”
“Someone was trying to take her,” Stiles told her.
Sheryll shared a wide-eyed glance with her friend. “And you stopped him?”
“Actually,” he said, nodding to you, “She did. I think she broke his nose.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth and as you pulled away from Phoebe, she wrapped her arms around you. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to us.”
“Seriously,” the other girl said. “We never should have left her alone. Thanks for looking out for her.”
You nodded. “No problem.”
“Well,” Stiles said. “I’m not in the mood to party anymore.”
“Same here,” you told him. “Good luck, guys.”
The girls nodded to you, and you and Stiles started to walk back to your dorms. When you glanced back, they were helping Phoebe to her feet and slowly walking her to a nearby bench.
You and Stiles walked along in silence for a few minutes, until he decided to speak up.
“Did you ever work out that thing with your air conditioning?” he asked.
You smiled. “Well, at first it looked like we weren’t going to. She was like ‘I’m sure you can wait a few more weeks.’ And I told her that sure, we could, if she was okay with my roommate’s parents pulling their funding for the new renovations.”
Stiles chuckled. “That’s evil. Do her parents even donate?”
You shook your head with a laugh. “No, she’s on scholarship. I mean, so am I, but still, it was hilarious. You should have seen the look on her face. She picked up the phone right away.”
“Damn,” Stiles remarked. “That’s great. Almost as great as what you did back there.”
“That was crazy,” you muttered, thinking back to Phoebe. “I’m glad I started to leave the party when I did.”
“You were going to leave?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “My roommate ditched me, so I was just gonna head back to the dorm. Lucky I did too, otherwise I never would have seen that girl.”
Stiles nodded. “That was pretty badass.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh. “I didn’t even know what I was doing.”
“Maybe it was instinct,” Stiles suggested. “Instinct to protect that girl.”
“I thought it was instinct to save your own ass,” you remarked. “You know, like self-preservation.”
It’s not instinct for us, Stiles wanted to say, but instead he just shrugged. “I like to think we’ve evolved. I mean, damn, Y/n, you’re a hero.”
You laughed softly as you walked up to the dorm. “You know, I don’t think that’s it.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, reaching out to swipe his ID in front of the reader.
The door unlocked with a click, and he pulled it open and held it for you. You smiled and walked inside.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “This is gonna sound weird but…”
“Y/n?” Stiles asked, raising his eyebrows as he trailed off.
“You know what?” you asked. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
“What?” he demanded, his eyes going wide.
“Relax,” you told him, shooting him an odd look. “I’m not gonna push you off or anything. I just wanna talk. What I’m gonna say is gonna sound crazy, and I kind of don’t want other people around. You also have my permission to ditch me if it gets too weird to listen to.”
“Trust me,” Stiles told you. “I’ve seen some pretty weird things, so I doubt I’ll run.”
You nodded and turned down the hall, walking side by side with Stiles until you found the door to the staircase that led to the roof. You walked all the way to the top, cracking jokes about how unfit the both of you were, and when you finally got there, you were breathing heavily.
“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, shoving open the door. “Remind me to never suggest that again.”
Stiles laughed breathlessly. “We were never good at cardio.”
“What?” you asked, blinking at him.
“I-I said I’ve never been good at cardio.”
“Me neither,” you told him with a grin.
You straightened up and walked to the edge of the roof, staring down at the lights of the campus. It looked so different from the top of the building, like you were looking at an entirely different world.
You sank down onto the concrete, and Stiles came to sit next to you. “So what did you want to tell me?”
You crossed your ankles and reached to run your hands up and down your bare knees. Your denim shorts were digging into the skin of your legs, and you knew they would leave a faint impression, but you didn’t care.
“Y/n?” Stiles asked again.
“I’m trying to think of how to start,” you told him. “I haven’t told you how my parents died.”
“Y/n, you don’t have to-”
“No, it’s alright,” you cut him off. “I want to. This summer, right after I graduated, my parents and I got into a car accident. They died, and I was in a coma for a month.”
“I think I heard about it,” he lied softly.
“What?” you asked.
“You and me,” he began. “We grew up in the same town, I think. Beacon Hills, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathed. “And…I never even saw you?”
“I guess our paths just never crossed,” he said.
“Huh,” you murmured. “Weird.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But keep going.”
“Well, when I woke up, this nurse, Melissa…she told me what happened. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my parents. I don’t even remember the crash. I have no recollection of it at all, like not even the slightest memory. The doctors all said I had amnesia because of head trauma, and that I might not ever remember.”
“God,” Stiles breathed. “Y/n, that’s awful.”
“See, that’s the thing,” you told him. “It wasn’t. I mean, of course it’s awful that they’re gone. I miss them everyday. But…I don’t remember being in that car. I was barely in pain when I woke up. It could have been a lot worse.”
“Still…” he said slowly.
“And that’s the thing that bugs me,” you continued.
“That it could have been worse?”
“Sort of,” you said. “Because I have all that time missing, you know? I mean, shouldn’t I at least remember what happened up until the accident?”
Stiles frowned. “I couldn’t tell you. I’m not a doctor.”
“Yeah, but there’s something else too,” you continued. “It’s not just that I’m missing the accident or the time before. I feel like I’m missing other memories too.”
Stiles felt his chest constricting, but he forced himself to choke out a response and play along. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember when we first met?” you asked him. “When I was talking about how strong my mom was, and how I knew a lot of other strong people?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Well, I know I was thinking of someone else,” you stated firmly. “Maybe more than one person. I was sure of it, but when I went to say who it was, it was like I totally blanked.”
“Hey, that happens to everyone sometimes,” Stiles reminded you.
“But there’s more,” you continued. “I was living with a family friend after they died. His name is Chris, and he had a daughter my age. She died in a car accident a few years ago, just like my parents. Her name was Allison.”
Stiles closed his eyes and looked away, but luckily you were still staring out at the campus. “I remember her being one of my best friends when I was younger, but I can’t remember getting the news of her car accident. And I don’t even remember the funeral. Chris says I was there, but I don’t remember it at all. You’d think I would.”
“Maybe this has to do with the accident,” he suggested.
“See I thought about that,” you told him, already way ahead of him. “But that kind of trauma, it shouldn’t be affecting my long term memories, the ones I should have made ages ago. Right?”
“Y/n, I don’t know what to tell you,” Stiles said honestly. “I mean, I’m not a neuroscience major. I don’t know much about the brain. But I know that sometimes when traumatic things happen, it blocks them out for us. It’s like a defense mechanism. Maybe it’s better for you not to know.”
“But I feel like part of me is missing,” you whispered to him. “I walk around campus, and I see all these other people. They know who they are, and they know what they want. But me? Sometimes…sometimes I feel like I don’t even know who I am.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Stiles told you firmly.
“How do you know that?” you asked him, your eyes filling with tears. “You barely even know me.”
“I do know you,” he insisted, wrapping an arm around you. “And I know that you’re an amazing, intelligent human being, okay? And even if you don’t figure it out right now, you will eventually.”
You sniffed and nodded as you rubbed your shoulders, and as you looked up into his comforting brown eyes, you felt the urge to kiss him. You suddenly leaned forward, looking down at his lips, and as if it was pure instinct, he moved forward to meet you.
He lips moved tenderly, almost cautiously against yours as you sat on that roof. You reached up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself, and as crazy as it sounded, you felt more like yourself with Stiles than you did when you were alone. You closed your eyes, but he suddenly jerked away and jumped up, as if he had been electrocuted.
“I-I’m sorry,” you breathed, rising to your feet. “I didn’t mean to shock you. I just…I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Stiles stared at you, open-mouthed, but the expression on his face was unreadable. It was a mixture of so many emotions that you didn’t even know what to pin it on, but soon he was backing away. “Y/n, I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. We never should have been friends.”
“Stiles,” you whispered. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry. I-I can’t do this,” he told you, shaking his head and walking quickly toward the door.
You stood there in shock as he threw open the door, and jogged quickly down the steps. It swung shut behind him with a resounding bang, and you jumped at how loud it was.
Confusion washed over you, and after that, self-loathing. I never should have done that, you told yourself. I never should have kissed him.
You wiped your eyes and turned back to the campus, looking out at the lights as they blurred behind your tears. You sank bank down on the ground and wrapped your arms around your knees, hugging them to yourself and contemplating the fact that you had just lost the only friend you had made, and the only chance of feeling like yourself again.

vimeo

Anon releases private info of Swine offender #1 Call, email, send junk mail to his house, hundreds of pizza’s, 

Watch on imperialwave.tumblr.com

This is a video of Occupy U.C. Davis, occupy U.C. Davis is a “peaceful" protest in response to the possibility of tuition raising 81%. Now this is ridiculous to increase the tuition like that, but it is also ridiculous to protest in a manner such as shown for multiple reasons.

1. Right to learn

By sitting on the sidewalk the protesters are blocking the path for other students to pass and continue on to their classes. By providing an obstacle, the protesters are obstructing the right to learn for other students. Also by creating such noise and hype the group is also distracting from nearby classrooms from learning.

2. Assaulting an officer

Protesters were not only resisting officers but a few lashed out and attacked them, which is against the law. On many accounts citizens have been arrested for this crime, therefor the crowd is a danger and should be treated as such.

3. Surrounding the police

Near the end of the video the protesters have surrounded the police chanting, yelling, and threatening them. When anyone or anything, let alone an officer is surrounded a reaction is likely to be to fight. The protesters should have understood this, and not have surrounded the police

Summary

I know i will get a lot of hate over this post, but people come on! If you dont want to get pepper sprayed get out of the way, definitely do not attack and threat police officers. How about you enjoy your schooling before tuition is raised so you can get a job or become a politician so you can actually make a change instead of being uneducated people who are just being difficult.

Fun fact: pepper spray is classified as a chemical weapon and is prohibited from usage in military combat.

But the pepper spray that the police officers at the U.C. Davis protests was called “military grade,” and was sprayed point-blank at peaceful protesters, even though it is supposed to be used from at least fifteen feet away.

u.c. davis

if you can’t do your job in good conscience, maybe you shouldn’t be doing that job.

seriously. it’s hard, i know, but it can be done. i will always remember a politically active client asking me to write a proposal on behalf of a congressman he supported who wanted to convert unused military bases into “working camps” for the homeless. i refused. luckily, i had a boss who respected my right to do so, but i’d like to believe i’d have refused, anyway.

YOU CAN SAY “NO.” you can draw a line in the sand and say, “no, i’m not crossing it.” indeed, if you DON’T, then who are you?