𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖

A SONG THEY LISTEN TO ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY.

A SONG THEY LISTEN TO ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY.

                                       give them hope

… to yours trying to go down on mine, under the table, during dinner

             “         scott mccall? ”                the blonde asked, tugging her badge from her pocket,              flashing it open to the boy, lips pursing in impatience.              her eyes traipsed over his form, recalling for a moment,              her teenage years. G R O S S.              “ i’m fbi special agent jean simmons, do you mind if i              ask you a few questions in regard to the recent              murders in town? ”              she wouldn’t have been surprised if he slammed the door              on her and run. in fact, she would bet some good money              on it. and if he ran, he’d probably escape her questioning.              she was fast, but no way in hell was she fast enough to              stop some teenage kid. 

hasher-iwm  (via constantdriift)

~Lately Scott had this tendency to let his mind wander off without him. Like today, his mom was standing across from him, talking about how she’d be late, that there was money for pizza on the counter. She even stopped mid-sentence once she realized he wasn’t listening just staring at her. She just shook her head and waved at him as she made her way out of the house. It was the sound of the door closing that finally pulled him back to reality. His dark eyes refocusing on the now empty living room, he sighed, running both hands through his hair then over his face.

         it wasn’t often deanna, or any hunter, matter of fact, came to          california. the whole state seemed fucked up enough for one          home-based hunter or hunting family to figure out, all on their          own, but for some reason, no one dared put a stop to the          supposed, “animal attacks,” in some off-track stretch of road          called BEACON HILLS.          a true lucky break, the whole case made twists and turns back          to some kid that helped run the local vet’s office-                                    S c o t t     M c C a l l .          he was an average teenager, for all intents and purposes;          shitty grades, sports, girlfriend, it all seemed normal, but the          blood on his name was pretty hard to ignore.          deanna watched as a woman, most likely his mother, in her early          to mid thirties, left the boy’s house in scrubs and drove off toward          the west. a nurse; respectable, yet ironic, considering her son          was probably the cause of the local chaos. the blonde stepped          out of her car, rubber-soled heavy boots crunching the gravel as          she adjusted her suit jacket over her white button up. thin,          calloused fingers slid over the dark washed material and into the          breast pocket, taking hold of the thin, wallet-like centerpiece to          her disguise. she lifted her free hand and knocked on the door,          tongue dragging along her lower lip as she anticipated his          appearance in front of her.

every time someone send you hate, send them this back

        “Are you trying to scare me with that? It’s not working. I don’t think you want to push this. Just sayin’.”

      “𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 was planning on scaring you, i’d record         these pathetic excuses for bravado you’re spouting         and play ‘em back for ya’. now, just answer the damn          question and i’ll be on my merry. ”