There’s an incessant, unrelenting train of thought in Isaac’s mind as he crouches next to Allison.
It’s that he shouldn’t be here. Because this is Allison Argent.
Allison. The girl that stabbed and fucking filleted him in the middle of an abandoned warehouse as her grandfather sought out the bite to save his own skin. He remembers the look in her eyes - haunted and vacant, but determined - as she sliced through his flesh and watched him fall to his knees on the concrete.
The girl he’s sitting next to now, though, is so much different.
“Can you hear how far away they are?” Allison asks quietly, voice barely sounding at all.
Isaac tilts his head a little, shrugging a shoulder as he scans the lot in front of them for the sound of footfalls or heartbeats that don’t belong to their group of friends. “I don’t…”
There’s chaos, then. Isaac can hear the moment that Ethan claws through Derek’s arm, and Allison’s hands move over the ground to grab her bow.
“Wait,” Isaac hisses, hand covering hers.
Her heartbeat spikes. Catches and stutters and Isaac turns his head towards her, but her chocolate brown irises flick from his mouth to his eyes in a motion that’s far too slow for it to be purely innocent.
He holds her gaze until they hear Stiles shouting out, and that’s their cue. Isaac breaks out into a run and Allison’s arrow glides easily over his shoulder and straight into Ethan’s chest.
The fight lasts a few minutes more, but they all make it out alive and unscathed. Ethan’s a different story, but it’s the one they were intending to write.
And if Isaac manages to walk next to Allison as she heads back to her car, it’s just a coincidence. He doesn’t point out the way her heart skips again and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the way his heart does the same thing.
Scott pretends, too.
SCOTT AND LYDIA SLOW DANCING ON LACROSSE FIELD BECAUSE SHE NEVER GOT TO ENJOY THE DANCE
Only two of the field lights are on, the music playing in the background is horrible, and Lydia wouldn’t have it any other way.
The bottom of her dress grazes the grass and she knows that the stains are going to a bitch to get out, but she can’t bring herself to care even as Scott misses a step in their dance. All that matters is the arm wrapped around her waist, the warm brown eyes and the smile shining back at her.
It had been Scott’s idea of course because regardless of how much she may have wanted it, Lydia understood that a dance wasn’t exactly top priority with Scott just getting used to the position of alpha among the remains of the old pack.
“You never got to enjoy the other one” he had said, eyes hard with deep rooted anger that Lydia understood and then almost immediately becoming softer, loving, when they looked at her.
Lydia pulls closer to Scott at the memory, her head resting against his chest as the speakers hummed in the background, “Thank you”
gymnast hands | allison/lydia | ballet au | pg | 343 words
summary: lydia likes the look of the new girl in her ballet class.
popcorn, dinosaurs, and inaccuracies | dylan/toby | g | 554 words
Want me to write you a fic for Femslash February? Put a femslash pairing in my ask with a prompt and I’ll write you one.
perri-snow asked: allison/erica as mermaids
okay, this actually has a bit of everything ship-wise (well, almost everything, i can’t include everything, it’d be longer than the 10, 850 or so it is now). more gen than anything really, but there’s hints at allison/erica, boyd/isaac, boyd/erica/isaac, allison/lydia, erica/lydia, allison/erica/lydia, scott/stiles, lydia/scott, tiiiiny hints (they look at each other) at erica/scott, allison/scott, and derek/erica, uh and derek being a creeper. morrell, deaton, victoria, and kate guest star. cameos by gerard, chris, danny, and jackson.
also peter dies
warning: drowning, mentions of drowning, blood, murder, needles
Title: At My Most Beautiful (26/27)
Word Count: 11,500 for this chapter, 118,273 overall so far
Chapter Summary: The surrounding kingdoms gather for the tournament and Morgana’s long wait is finally over.
Series Summary: In a world where things were ever so slightly different, Camelot had a young and beautiful Queen - a beautiful Queen, who was married to a cold and aging King. AU
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin, this is purely for entertainment purposes.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19| Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25
a kid at hogwarts who just wants to get a proper education but can’t focus because of all of the shit harry potter and his friends keep getting themselves into
Jenna B. Lacey, age eleven, knew exactly what she was going to do with her life.
She was going to go to Hogwarts, get top grades, and be the youngest female Minister of Magic by age 35.
It would have been a good plan, if she hadn’t been in the same year as Harry Potter.
* * *
Year one started out great. She was sorted into Hufflepuff, did well in all her classes, and aced the exams.
A troll smashed its way through the study room she was in on Halloween, but that wasn’t going to deter her.
* * *
Year two was a disaster. People were getting petrified, and worse—the teachers had to herd them from place to place, which severely cut down on her library time. She had to study in the common room, which meant instead of a nice, quiet atmosphere, she got a soundtrack of nervous Hufflepuffs.
And on top of that, exams were cancelled. It was a disaster.
* * *
Third year, she started to notice a trend.
First the troll, then the petrifications, and now dementor guards and escaped convicts. What did they all have in common? Potter.
After Black broke in and everyone had to spend the night in the Great Hall, interrupting Jenna’s last minute studying for a test the next day, she took to giving Potter angry looks in every class.
He did not notice.
* * *
They announced the Triwizard tournament at dinner the first night of fourth year, and Jenna almost started crying.
Potter was going to take this one over. She just knew it.
And she was right.
Voldemort rose at the end of the year. She honestly didn’t know what she had expected.
* * *
Fifth year brought Umbridge. She joined the DA because she was going to need a better background in defense, but that didn’t mean she was any happier about Potter.
She imagined it was him she was hexing instead of Zachariah Smith.
But, by the end of the year, focus on her studies was impossible. After Dumbledore left, it was complete anarchy.
Potter’s fault. Of course.
* * *
Sixth year she started volunteering in the hospital wing. She needed a backup plan in case Potter fucked it up.
All seemed quiet, until they brought Malfoy in. It was apparently Potter’s fault, which surprised everyone except Jenna.
Later, she was peacefully studying in a little nook on the third floor when some Death Eaters and some other adults started dueling right under her nose.
This was the worst fucking school, honestly.
* * *
They were calling it “The Final Battle.”
Jenna ran through the hall, dodging in and out of the children evacuating, until she saw him.
He turned, startled. “Um—Jenna, right? We’re sort of busy—”
She grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him up until he was eye level with her. “If I’m not Minister of Magic by age 35, it is going to be entirely your fault and I’m going to hurt you.”
She dropped him and stormed away, leaving him to whatever he was doing. She had to fight this goddamn war so she could go back to her fucking studying.
* * *
She became Minister of Magic at age 36.
The Five Times That Sherlock Holmes Was An Annoying Little Know-It-All And The One Time That Detective Marcus Bell Did Something About It.
AN- This is really rushed and unedited and terrible but I really wanted to get it out before I lost the courage to, so yeah. I’d love some feedback but nbd. Enjoy!
Detective Bell showed them into the room.
“It’s pretty straightforward- the victim was found in a locked room, single gunshot wound to the head, the gun in her hand. Her name is-”
“Alicia Smith, twenty four, recently unemployed, likes painting.” Sherlock snapped the plastic gloves onto his hands and kneeled down to gently lift the woman’s hair up. “Recently broke up with her girlfriend…and you’re wrong, as usual, Detective. This is quite clearly a murder.”