HAHA YESSS

To His Left

Word count: 938

It was Dylan's first day at his new school, the one he was transferring to in the middle of October during junior year. It wasn't very convenient timing, but his old school was a headache and a half. He was hopeful for his future in the new environment, regardless of the shy feelings creeping up on him.

He took a deep breath as he walked into his new English classroom a few minutes early, not wanting dozens of eyes on him in an instant. He immediately saw the bright smile of Mrs. Nixon, a young (mid-twenties), short, brunette, and cheerful woman who would be teaching him from now on. Her expression seemed to quickly ease his nerves, and he smiled back at her as he began to walk up to her desk.

He barely took his first couple steps before Mrs. Nixon spoke exuberantly, "Hi! Are you my new student? Dylan, right?"

He held onto the straps of his backpack tightly as it rested on his shoulders and nodded, his words falling out of his mouth, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me."

"Perfect! I'm Mrs. Nixon, and oh my god. Sorry, I'm just so excited. This is a good class to join, as far as my junior classes go, I'm glad you were put in this period," she spoke rapidly, her ecstasy evident.

Dylan couldn't help but smile at her, appreciating her happiness just because of his presence. It felt good, so he tried to keep the conversation going, "Oh yeah? Do you teach another class?"

She sighed, then rolled her eyes as she spoke, "Yes, unfortunately. Half of my periods are full of freshmen."

Their comfortable chatter continued, and neither of them noticed that the bell had rang until his soon-to-be peers started flowing in. He looked around, realizing that he had no idea where he was supposed to go. Mrs. Nixon noticed his confusion and pointed to an empty desk, "Oh, Dylan, you can sit right over there, desk twelve."

He nodded as he walked over, trying not to let his face heat up when he heard Mrs. Nixon inform the class of his new presence and saw the eyes of everyone on him. He forced a polite smile and nodded as he sat down, and seconds after, his attention was grabbed by the gorgeous girl sitting to his left. His eyes widened a little and he hoped she didn't notice while she introduced herself with the most flattering smile he'd ever seen.

His words left him before he knew he was even speaking. "Nice to meet you, I'm Dylan," he said, feeling his hands get clammy.

"So I've heard," she spoke casually, making him chuckle nervously when he realized that Mrs. Nixon literally just told the entire class his name. "And it's nice to meet you too. If you have any questions about what we're learning about or the school, let me know."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling. She seemed so nice and laid back, as if talking to him was the easiest thing in the world, whereas he was struggling to contain all of his various emotions. She was either really good at this, or really good at pretending to be good at this. Either way, he enjoyed every second of their conversation.

"Sweet, thanks. I'll make sure to do that," he was a little disappointed when his attention was diverted to the lesson, right after he spoke.

As soon as the lesson was finally over, his gaze turned toward the girl to his left again. He really just wanted to talk to her again, the only problem was that he had nothing to say. He searched his scattered brain until she finally spoke and snapped him out of his staring, "You good?"

Dylan's eyebrows raised when he realized how weird he might have seemed, just looking at her without a word. He quickly tried to defend himself with a clearly forced tone of nonchalant, "What? Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. Just got distracted. But technically, it wasn't my fault."

She gave him a look of suspicion and tested his ability to keep his cool, "Oh really? So it's someone's fault that you got distracted?"

He smirked, hoping with his entire soul that he wouldn't mess this up, "Exactly. See? You're getting it."

Her eyebrows furrowed but she couldn't hide her small smile, "Getting what? What the hell are you talking about?"

He hesitated for a second, looking away. Screw it, he thought, and he shrugged his shoulders as he looked right at her again, "You're distracting me. I mean, come on. How am I supposed to not look at you?"

A bit of blush crept onto her cheeks and her smile unintentionally grew. She paused for a second, letting his words sink in and trying to think of how she could possibly respond to something so bold from someone she just met that day. She collected her wits and responded as confidently as she could make herself seem, "That's interesting, coming from someone who doesn't even know me. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but have you considered the possibility that you just suck at focusing on anything other than girls?"

He suddenly felt his own face heating up, not having expected such a sassy accusation. He chuckled, mostly nervously, "I plead the fifth."

She simply rolled her eyes with a smirk as Dylan kept smiling like a dork. They knew that this seating arrangement was going to be entertaining for both of them, and Dylan was excited to have a pretty girl to look at during English, directly to his left.

Note: I have no idea if this is good or not, but if it somehow is and someone wants me to keep this storyline going, then I happily will. Just let me know :)

who do you ship stiles with in the show?

That's a tough question because I wish I could ship myself with him haha. Anyway. In all seriousness, I like Stalia more than Stydia... I don't know, they just seemed like a better match and I loved their dynamic. Also, their breakup was so confusing which bugged me, but regardless... I just feel like Lydia's feelings for Stiles weren't expressed well enough for me to like them together, but that's just me. And I don't really like her that much to begin with but that's a whole different rant I could go on.

Thanks for asking! 💜

AH! He's so cute, I love your take on this! And I must say, it sounds pretty accurate! I'm glad you're feeling better, my dear 💜

Hi, gorgeous! How do you think Stiles would execute breakfast in bed? Beautiful disaster maybe? Or would he be super careful and tame his clumsiness?

(I hope you're feeling much better! 💜)

omg hi lovely !! i am feeling a bit better now <33 and this is SUCH a cute prompt, thank you for asking and giving me this :))

as stiles is our resident adhd disaster i think he tries really hard. but alas, i don’t think he is as successful as he hopes.

as his mother died when he was young, he wasn’t really taught to cook and since noah works most of the time, i think it’s a lot of junk food nights and simple meals. ramen, mac and cheese, anything easy to do. and while i do think some aspects of breakfast are easy for him to cook, the elaborate breakfast in bed idea is a bit too advanced for our dear boy.

maybe it’s valentine’s day, your birthday, or a random day where he wants you to feel special and he gets the idea in his mind. so he tries his absolute hardest.

he gathers all the ingredients and lays them out and he has a system, he swears he does but you’d never be able to decode it. at first, it’s going well. the eggs are fine and the bacon is sizzling in the pan, but things start to decline when he forgets the toaster oven. he’s humming to himself as he pushes the bacon around in the pan, dancing a little in the cute little apron he’s wearing ( i told you, he’s committed to the bit ). and his mind wanders a little to you and how happy you’ll be and suddenly the smell of burnt bread fills his nostrils and he freaks. it throws him off his game.

so in his attempt to clean up the burnt toast and rid the kitchen of the smoke and the acrid smell, the bacon in turn gets forgotten about. it fries to a crisp and is unable to be salvaged. by now, the eggs are cold.

it disheartens the poor boy. so he probably just brings you takeout breakfast instead ( which is still just as sweet because he took time out of his day to bring you food. )

in summary, i think he would try so hard to make it perfect which it what ultimately messes him up. and he learns it’s much more fun when you cook breakfast together, being goofy and where he isn’t as in his head about it being the “perfect” breakfast in bed. besides, once you’re done cooking you can always take the tray of breakfast foods back to bed and cuddle while you eat.

Hi,

First of all, I love your work! 😍

Aaaand can I ask for some (over)protective/ jealous Stiles, preferably at a party...maybe he sees someone flirting with y/n...or at school maybe and he gets touchy 🥺❤️

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Hey! I apologize for taking so long to answer, but life has been absolutely wild lately. But, thank you very much for the request and the love! I twisted it a little bit, making his paranoia the cause of his jealousy instead of someone else... I hope that's ok and I hope you like it! :)

Fiasco

Word count: 1,052

Saying that Stiles wasn't thrilled to be at some random freshman lacrosse kid's party on a Friday night instead of being snuggled up on the couch with his girlfriend and ignoring a lame movie to make out was an understatement. He didn't even know what the kid's name was and he didn't care. The pipsqueak barely made the team anyway, it was doubtful that he was any better than Stiles (which was kind of an ego boost). But alas, there he was, walking into an unfamiliar house behind his group of friends, tightly clutching his girlfriend's hand in hopes of relieving his grumpy mood.

Unfortunately for him, this method failed as his anchor was swept away to the kitchen with Malia and Kira. He sighed defeatedly as he plopped himself down on the couch next to some imbecile who was wearing a scarf, and no, surprisingly, it wasn't Isaac.

All he wanted to do was go home and lock himself in a room with the love of his life. She always made everything feel better because she always knew what to do to make that happen. It's like she had his brain in the palm of her hand, all to herself to read and understand completely and thoroughly - she knew him better than anyone, including himself. So yes, he wished that she could magically heal his grouchiness and clear his mind of all the shit that was going on in his life, preferably immediately.

However, when his scowling gaze met her figure in the living room again and he saw the look of enjoyment on her face, disbelief struck him. He wondered how in hell she could be having fun right now, with these losers, wannabes, and tryhards, thus dragging his mood to deeper depths of negativity.

He watched every movement she made: step, shift, glance, smile, laugh, sway, sip, turn, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... But then his focus shifted to the people around his girlfriend. He narrowed his eyes as he observed drifting eyes, brushing hands, and hungry smirks.

His emotions swirled and bubbled inside him until they became a jealous and protective boil - one he could not contain.

Stiles stood up suddenly, charging towards his other half with a look of rage. He harshly grabbed the forearm of one of his adversaries and glowered at the boy as he scolded, "If you put your disgusting, perverted hand on her, I swear to God, I will chop your fucking hand off and shove it up your fucking-"

"Stiles!"

Like a bright ray of sunshine breaking through a wall of charcoal storm clouds, her voice broke through his haze of fury, retrieving his sanity. He looked at her and her disbelief, then blinked a few times and glanced around. That's when he realized he realized whose arm he was gripping: it was Ethan's, who looked like he was about to laugh in Stiles' face. He released Ethan and then saw Scott, Kira, Malia, Danny, Boyd, and Isaac, all staring right back at him.

Stiles' cheeks quickly darkened to a crimson and his whole body heated up, feeling incredibly stupid for losing his mind like that. He silently cursed himself, trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

His girlfriend, being the amazing woman she was, acted quickly when she saw Stiles' return to reality and the shame on his face. She took his hand and hastily led him outside, weaving through all the teenagers to reach the front door.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked worriedly, facing him on the driveway.

He stuttered, unable to ignore the lingering feeling of jealousy roaming through him, "I, well, I... I don't know, I just..." He let out a breath and looked down in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, looking up at her again after a short moment. "I don't want to be here. I want to be in my house with you, alone and away from everyone and everything."

"So, you flipped out instead of asking me to go home with you...?" she spoke, confused.

Stiles bit his lip, hesitating, before he continued, "No, I flipped out because I was jealous."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows with amusement. "You were jealous of Ethan? The guy who is dating Danny, another guy? The Ethan who is very gay and very uninterested in girls?"

"No!" he said, glaring at her, "I was jealous of how much fun you were having and how happy you looked..."

His girlfriend's smile softened and turned sympathetic.

"Well, and," he continued, "all the touching, and the looks, and the creepy smirks, and the rubbing, and the staring. I didn't like that either."

"What are you talking about?" She was suddenly filled with confusion again. "There was no touching, or rubbing, or creepiness, or staring."

Stiles' eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the earlier events in his head. He wasn't hallucinating, he knew what he saw. Or did he...?

"Stiles, seriously, what is going on with you? These are our friends. There's nothing to be jealous of," she said, getting his attention again.

"But I thought... Oh my God, I'm a mess." He ran his hands over his face. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but every little thing just pissed me off more and more, and then my grumpy mood turned into a wild rage, and then a whole fiasco. I'm a fiasco."

She softly smiled at him and cupped his face with her hands. "You are not a fiasco. But if you were in a bad mood, why didn't you just say so? We could've just stayed home and watched some lame movie instead."

Stiles' heart just about melted. He looked at her with all the love he had for her before pulling her closer by her hips and pressing his lips to hers.

"I'm sorry for imagining things and getting jealous. I'll definitely let you know about my bad mood before we go to another party," he said quietly, then gave her another peck.

"Thank you," her smile grew as she looked up at him, "but just so you know, I still love your imagination, even if it makes you do some questionable things."

He chuckled awkwardly as he spoke, "Yeah, I should probably go apologize to Ethan too..."

"Yep!"

name the pop/punk 2000’s band

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.

Hi, friends! I hope everyone is doing well.

If I have time this week, I'd like to write some fluff for the twins (Stiles and Stuart) trope, but I don't have any ideas or inspiration. If anyone does, please let me know! I absolutely love hearing from you all! Thank you! 💜

This is perfection, THANK YOU! 💜

Saw this and thought of your series @kowbelll

This is the sweetest thing ever! Fantastic job, once again. I can't even form words-

stiles x autistic!partner hcs

a/n: april is autism awareness month and i wanted to do smth with our favorite boy! 🫶🏻 reader has lower support needs ( as this is based off of my experience as an autistic person with lower support needs ). not everything will be applicable to all readers.

he’s not unfamiliar with autism, exactly. he knows a lot of his adhd traits intersect with autism traits, but he’s never had a reason to explore it further.

until you.

when he learns that you’re autistic, he goes on one of his adhd deep dives ( sort of like when he went on the werewolf dive when scott was first bitten ).

he knows a LOT about diagnostic criteria ( and sometimes wonders if he himself fits it but that’s for another time ).

he also learns what your dislikes are— tastes, textures, sounds, etc. so he can do his best to keep them away from you. he also knows that are perfectly capable of doing those things yourself but he keeps track anyway because he loves you and he wants to help.

he’s never infantilized you before and he knows that you are your own person. god forbid anyone tries to take your autonomy or imply that because you’re autistic, you can’t do simple things or basic tasks.

but if you do end up needing a little help here and there, he doesn’t mind. he knows what it’s like to struggle with neurodivergence and he’s had a lot of practice with his own. maybe he messes up sometimes but he has good intentions.

he notices shifts in your behavior almost instantly. most of your friend group does but that’s due to supernatural senses; stiles just has an innate focus on you and learns to tell when something is different.

and he does his absolute best to soothe whatever is causing your distress. if some of your classmates are talking too loud or yelling across the cafeteria, he asks to take you outside away from it. or if you’re at a party and suddenly there’s too many people around, he’ll take you to somewhere more secluded. overstimulation is a feeling he knows well, so he sympathizes and does what he can to aid you.

he memorizes a lot of your coping mechanisms. whether it’s the way you tap your fingers together or how you brush the fabric of your skirt back in forth because it’s a texture you like or the rapid onset of blinks that seem to go like clockwork, he knows them all. sometimes he uses them too.

YAP SESSIONS. having an adhd boyfriend is a blessing when it comes to conversation.

he can talk for hours on any of his given topics and so can you. hyperfixations and special interests go hand in hand and god forbid if both of you have the same one at the same time. it happened once and you both ended up staying up all night without realizing it because you were too in depth with your conversation.

and just because he likes to talk, it doesn’t mean he won’t let you talk. sometimes when he needs his brain shut off, he’ll ask you to talk about one of your special interests. not because it bores him, but because he likes listening to the sound of your voice and because your passion for the subject makes it interesting to him. he likes knowing why you enjoy things so much and it helps him when he’s feeling overwhelmed.

he downloaded a text-to-speech app for you for times when you go non-verbal. lydia did too but he was the first because he wanted to make sure that everyone was still able to understand you. communication king.

stiles is REALLY bad at following schedules but if you need one, he makes sure he has it memorized and reminds you when it’s time for something. he can do it for others but when it comes to himself ? not so much.

you went to give him a hug once and his shirt was a fabric/texture you hated, so he threw it away. he wants you to be comfortable around him.

he keeps your safe foods stocked at his house and some in his backpack just in case. once, the cafeteria decided to experiment with the menu and it did not turn out well.

if someone asks “what kind of autism do you have?” he gets defensive. as someone who has dealt with adhd stereotypes and ignorant comments, he hates to see it happen to you.

A Little Bit of Normal

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K

Summary: In the midst of Beacon Hills' chaos, you find solace in Stiles Stilinski's playful distractions and heartfelt words, gradually realizing that your friendship is evolving into something deeper. As he confesses his feelings for you, you both share a tender moment that marks the beginning of something real and meaningful.

It was another quiet afternoon at the library. The hum of pages turning and the faint chatter of a few students were the only sounds filling the room. You sat at your usual spot by the window, attempting to study for your next exam, but your mind kept wandering. The books in front of you blurred into a mess of letters and formulas.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your grades—it was just hard to concentrate with everything going on in Beacon Hills. Between supernatural chaos, werewolves, and endless mysteries, school was the last thing on your mind. But you couldn’t just ignore it, not when your GPA was on the line.

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up to find Stiles Stilinski standing at the table, his trademark goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, Stiles,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. He had that effect on you, always able to make even the most stressful days feel lighter.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the table.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m trying. It’s just... hard to focus, you know?”

Stiles gave you a sympathetic look, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I do. But I have a solution.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Do you now?”

He flashed his signature mischievous grin. “Of course. It’s simple, really. All you need is a little Stiles distraction.”

You laughed. “A distraction? I’m supposed to focus on my studies, not get sidetracked by your endless supply of weirdness.”

Stiles smirked, sliding into the chair across from you. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second of all, weirdness is an understatement. And third, who says you can’t do both? You study, I distract. We’ll call it a study session.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable,” he corrected, leaning forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. “And I’m about to prove it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he launched into one of his usual rambling monologues, jumping from one bizarre idea to another. He told you all about a “brilliant” theory he had about why every fast food chain’s fries tasted exactly the same and how he was convinced there was a conspiracy behind it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and before long, you found yourself laughing at his absurd theories and forgetting about the stress of school.

When he saw you laughing, Stiles seemed to glow with a certain pride, as if he had just accomplished the greatest feat. His smile softened as his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you in that little corner of the library.

“So, I have to ask,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly quieter, more serious. “Why do you always look so stressed, (Y/N)? I mean, I know Beacon Hills is... a lot, but you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes.”

You hesitated. The weight of his question hit you harder than you expected. You’d gotten used to the chaos, to the constant danger, but there was always that undercurrent of worry that never seemed to leave you. You pushed it away as best as you could, but it wasn’t always easy.

“I guess... I don’t really know how to stop worrying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much going on. I have to keep everything together, and sometimes, it feels like I’m barely holding it all in.”

Stiles’ expression softened even more. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You know that, right?”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. Stiles was always the jokester, the one who made everyone laugh and took everything in stride, but in this moment, he was serious—genuine.

“I know,” you said quietly. “It’s just... I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. Especially you.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch warm and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N),” he said softly, his voice thick with sincerity. “And if you ever feel like you are, I’ll be the first one to remind you that you’re not. We’re friends, right?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. You felt something stir in your chest, a warmth spreading through you as Stiles’ gaze never wavered.

“More than friends, though,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said the words until they were out in the open. You felt your cheeks flush, but when you looked up at him, you saw the surprise in his eyes.

“You mean...?” he trailed off, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “Yeah. More than friends.”

There was a long beat of silence between you, a breathless pause where everything seemed to hang in the balance. You watched as Stiles’ expression shifted, the playful grin replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your skin in a way that sent a flutter of nerves through you.

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. But... I really like you, (Y/N). More than I should, probably. And I’ve been kind of terrified to tell you that, because... well, it’s you. You’re amazing. And I’m just... well, me.”

You felt your heart race as his words sank in, your chest tightening with emotion. You had no idea that Stiles felt the same way, and hearing it out loud made everything seem more real, more intense.

“You’re not just you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re Stiles. And that’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, the same goofy grin that you loved, but this time it was softer, more genuine. Slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he moved too fast, he leaned in and kissed you. It was brief, but the moment his lips touched yours, a wave of relief washed over you. Like everything was falling into place, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his hand still holding yours, his eyes were full of that familiar mischief, but there was something deeper there, too—something raw.

“See?” he said, teasing once more. “Told you I was the best distraction.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “I think you might be right about that.”

Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair, but this time, he didn’t let go of your hand. It felt different now, more intimate, and you both knew that this was the beginning of something more than just a friendship.

In the middle of all the chaos, all the supernatural madness, you had found something simple, something real. And for once, it felt like everything was going to be okay.