#allisonlives

I Got a Taste of Love in a Simple Way - Baby Melissa (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/p6cTZQ8pEcb

#and then Allison and Stiles would each go home to Scott and Lydia respectively, y/y?

#derek can do whatever he wants in this au #as long as one of the things he does is stiles

For the record, as far as I see it?  Stiles and Allison are both a little too busy to get to dating anybody very very seriously, but they're both very good friends with Scott in a way that means they vie good-naturedly for the chance to go pry important information out of Nurse McCall at the hospital, because if you bring Scott a muffin and a large mocha that doesn't come from the hospital cafeteria, he will totally put out once everybody's shift is over.  (If you make two stops on your way over and bring him Chipotle too, Scott's been known to show his gratitude in the supply closet of the nurse's breakroom while his shift is technically still going on.)

Everybody's young and still feeling their way out and it's not like anybody's ready for wedding bells or kids anyway, so a tight little cluster of friends-with-benefits suits them pretty well.  Allison and Stiles aren't all that interested in screwing around with each other, although a month or so before Scott turns 25, Stiles leans against the locker next to Allison's and says, "Hey, so stop me if this weirds you out, but what were you planning for Scott's birthday?"

"I'm not weirded out yet..." Allison says.  "Why does this sound like you're not about to ask me to go in on a fancy DVD player."

"Slightly different kind of two-for-one," says Stiles, and yep, he is going where Allison thought he might be going.  And to be honest, it's not a bad idea.

(Of course, their lives being their lives, at 6:30 PM on Scott's birthday Stiles groans and gulps down the last of his cup of coffee and scowls at the cluster of cops in the forest clearing and says to his dad, "You know, it's Scott's birthday.  I could have been getting so laid later tonight."

"Of course," the sheriff sighs, because he didn't need to know that, he really didn't, but he's long since resigned to these things from Stiles.

Five hours later, Allison's got blood and mud and a little slime on her uniform, and she's sitting on the tailgate of an ambulance getting checked out, and somebody else is disposing of a body of something that isn't human, and the sheriff walks over to check on her.  "How're you doing?" he asks.

"I could have been getting so laid right now," sighs Allison, who's just a little loopy from the knock on the head, but no, she knows what a concussion feels like, thanks, EMT.  "Scott's birthday."

And the sheriff thinks about that for just long enough to realize that once more, he really didn't want to think about that, and groans, and says, "You kids have got to not tell me these things.")

(Ten minutes later Scott shows up on the scene, muddy and messy himself and still in his scrubs because he had to take off and do alpha shit in the woods the second his shift was over.  He takes Allison by the hands and tugs her in close, checking surreptitiously to see how much pain she's in, which isn't very much at all, smiles into her hair to see her.

"Hey," Allison says.  "Sorry about your birthday."

"It's okay," Scott promises.  "We'll do something tomorrow."

"I think it is tomorrow," Allison half-laughs, and they stand like that, intimate-close and saying little nothings, until Stiles comes up behind Scott and puts hands on his shoulders, warm, intimate-close.

It's weird because Stiles is actually really good about not trying to insert himself when Scott's with Allison, and it's great, Stiles is solid and steady at Scott's back, but it's weird, because Allison doesn't pull away, either.

"I vote no more birthdays," Stiles says.  "Remember what happened on Isaac's twenty-first?"

"I try not to," Scott says, and Stiles noses tiredly into the crook of his neck, and when Scott drops Allison's hands she just puts them on either side of Scott's waist.  "What is this?"

"Anything you want it to be," Allison says.

"Anything you want it to be in the morning," Stiles clarifies.  "Although Allison's bed is totally the biggest, I vote we use it for the pre-sex sleeping portion of tonight.")

Allison eventually admitting that fine, the sheriff has been right for years, she'd make a better cop than anything else, but four years of college is more than long enough to spend away from her family and her pack.

Allison and Stiles starting as rookie Beacon County sheriff's deputies in the same year.

Allison and Stiles getting into contests over who makes the most non-supernatural arrests in a month.  Competing to see who can suss out and correctly identify supernatural shenanigans first.  Allison kicking Stiles' ass at every single gun range and physical fitness test they go through.  Stiles has more practice in exercising his deductive skills, and gloats outrageously.

Stiles driving his training officer to drink because the kid thinks he's god's gift to the department, but first of all, he's the boss's son, second of all, he's had an RFID card to every room in the sheriff's station since he was sixteen and doesn't need to be taught very many ropes, and third he actually is really good.  Also, his goddamn paperwork is fucking incomprehensible, what the hell did that minor pot possession charge have to do with agricultural subsidies in Texas?

Allison giving her training officer conniptions because Allison's training officer is a 6'3 veteran who used to work as a cop in LA and bench presses 250 on a really good day, and Allison can kick his ass without actually breaking a sweat.  And she keeps charging head-first into situations that ought to get a green cop shot, especially in this crazy-ass town, and by the time he gets in there after her there'll be three perps subdued in handcuffs and Allison checking her goddamn cell phone and how is he supposed to work with this?

Allison and Stiles covering each other's asses when supernatural bullshit does come up, distracting each other's partners, pairing up off the clock to take their badges and guns around and ask some discreet questions entirely off the record.  Allison and Stiles getting so very, very caught and dragged into the Sheriff's office like a pair of sheepish children so Sheriff Stilinski can glare at them across his desk and ask if they know just how many of his gray hairs are their collective fault, and did you at least get whatever thing-of-the-week it was this time, and for Christ's sakes, learn to cover your tracks better.

Lydia wakes up at Deaton's with lacerations around her neck; even restricted to minds, a witchfight draws blood.

Allison's alive.

Boyd's alive.

Lydia's a herald of death and a vessel for resurrection, and she is so, so tired of ashes. She won't let her friends sacrifice themselves if she doesn't have to. There is no ice water bath for her.

Scott McCall is the true alpha, and his growing little pack, Isaac and Boyd and Stiles and Allison, they keep everyone away while Lydia burns the remains of the Nematon, chasing the rotted roots with fire. Birds slammed into the school when the darach started teaching; phoenix imagery feels like the right way to break her power base.

The only knight who's figured out where she lives is actually a stable-boy named Scott wearing scrounged up armor, and he and his best friend Stiles have promised not to tell anyone else. Cora collects more weaponry than gold, and Allison gets to try out all the non-enchanted items.  Nobody's telling Allison what a princess should and shouldn't do anymore.

uh. I actually have a ridiculously good memory, just not for anything that is actually important. Like, due dates escape me, and so do birthdays (like, if I forget any of yours, bbs, it's not that I don't care; it's that my brain is broken and doesn't remember birthdays), and I can't tell you what I had for breakfast most days and I constantly have to count my ADHD meds to make sure that I actually took them today…but I can remember a ridiculous amount of detail from the things I read (whether they're academic articles or scholarly books or novels or poems or whatever) and I'm actually really tuned in to the cadences and arrangements of words in how the actors in things I like deliver their lines so I remember lines of dialogue really easily and I remember song lyrics really easily… I got the walking talking script award when we did paper plate awards at summer stock one year.I got said award because I was playing Mrs. Corney in Oliver! that time and I didn't have a lot of scenes to actually be in so I got to just casually watch everyone else's scenes while they were rehearsing and I had everyone else's lines down before they did. the same thing happened when I played Frenchie in Grease the next year, only then it was actually a problem because I unintentionally started mouthing the dialogue along with everyone else, whoops.I'm also really really good at remembering the timing of events and things like where X thing happened in which Harry Potter book, or which episode of (insert show of your choice here, but I'm the best at Teen Wolf, SPN, Community, Parks and Rec, My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, and Deep Space Nine) had Y memorable line or moment of whatever you're interested in finding, or which specific book or chapter or article about Q topic had Z quote of relevance in it. Like, my ability to cite things is just off the charts, which is good, considering it's a very important part of academia and that's what I'm going into for a living, so.

I'm really ridiculously good at inventing projects and keeping myself entertained. which probably comes out of how I didn't really have a lot of friends as a little kid, and most of the friends I did have didn't want to associate with me in public at school because I was weird to a degree that just refused to be fixed (in retrospect? they were kind of picking up on a lot of my autism spectrum traits and autism spectrum behavior patterns; we just didn't know that because I did not have a diagnosis at the time).then on top of that, my parents were gone most of the time, my cousins all lived far away enough that it wasn't fair to ask my babysitter to drive me and my sister to go hang out with them (like, they were within a reasonable driving distance but Chrissy already did more work to raise me and my sister than our parents ever really did so asking her to take us out to Dearborn or Flat Rock just to hang out with my cousins was asking too much from her, really), my sister and I didn't always get on well and she had friends who actually wanted to be seen with her in public and who didn't insist that they weren't really her friends but were just hanging out with her sometimes because their parents made her or out of pity…so I was alone a lot and I had to learn how to keep myself busy because I don't deal well with boredom because much like one, Sergeant Nicholas Angel, Sanford Police Service, I don't know how to switch off, so NOT constantly having fifty things to work on is a completely unintelligible concept to me?? and that's kind of a talent, I guess.

I may not be able to make good faces in pictures because when I smile, it looks weird, and any other attempted facial expressions usually come off way way wrong and they just look like my face is broken or something… but I've gotten really good at looking a bit disdainful and slightly disinterested but also kind of cute. and I've gotten good at just embracing my inability to make good faces in pictures and letting myself make weird faces on purpose since there isn't really anything to be done about the state of my facial expressions.

I am totally A+ at finding exactly what you want on just about any subject, given ten minutes to maybe an hour, a working Internet connection, and access to my external hard drive (General Martok), Google, ProQuest, and/or one of the other scholarly work databases that I get access to as a grad student. I will probably be able to find you more than you ever actually wanted on the subject because I'm not just good at research, but I'm also borderline obsessively dedicated to thoroughness and to reducing the impulse to be reductionistic or to overlook potentially important nuances, so there's a good chance that I'll just put together a fricking annotated bibliography for you if you give me enough leeway and adequate time in which to do that.