Come on, Lydia’s done with teenaged boys (but god, no I don’t want her with adult men). Give me bisexual Lydia or give me hell. Give me Cora coming back to Derek now that he’s starting to get his life on track. hanging out with the pack and slowly drifting closer to them, becoming Scott’s beta. Bonding with Malia because she was half-wild for five years, on the run and on her own after the fire, sometimes more wolf than girl. Gravitating to Lydia even though they bicker half the time, because they’re so different and deep down Lydia fascinates her.
Lydia always wears high heels and short skirts, always has her long hair perfectly styled, always smells like lavender and vanilla, full lips bright with gloss. Brilliant, proud Lydia with her manicured nails and her pretty lacy bras and her notebooks full of calculations Cora can’t begin to decipher.
Cora was twelve when her home and everything in it burned. She’d fallen asleep, too young to stay up for the eclipse with the rest of her family. Laura and Derek were supposed to be driving back from college to visit everyone. She’d thought they’d made it already when she was asleep. She thought they burned too. She woke to smoke and screams from the basement and ran, didn’t look back.
Cora hasn’t been to a real school in five years, hasn’t worn a dress since her seventh grade band recital. Hasn’t worn makeup since she was eleven and she snuck into Laura’s room to try on her lipstick and eyeshadow. Spent years on the move, sometimes with packs that took her in, sometimes on her own. Scrawny and frizzy-haired, underfed more often than not, fingernails cracked.
She’s been okay for a couple years now, found some nomadic friends in South America, started using shampoo regularly, but even after moving to Beacon Hills she still lives like she’s afraid to put down roots. Sports bras and shirts that don’t quite fit, worn down boots. She steals Derek’s clothes to wear around the loft, because it’s easier, because they smell like him and that’s nice. She spends time at the library. She’s thinking about getting her GED.
She joins Malia when she gets tutored by Lydia, listening on.
One day Malia has to leave early and it’s just the two of them in the library. After the fourth time Cora warns away someone wanting to talk to Lydia with a glare, Lydia puts down her pen and turns to look at her pointedly.
“Not that I subscribe to the heteronormative and patriarchal notion that a woman always needs to be looking for a man, but honestly, Cora, you’re going to scare everyone away with that attitude.”
"Well, you’re right about one thing, I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” Cora says belligerently, flipping through a copy of The Catcher In The Rye. She hates the book, is thinking of skipping it. Maybe asking Scott if she can borrow Call Of The Wild instead. She pauses, then mutters, “I’ve never even had one.”
Lydia gives her a slow once-over, green eyes flicking from her ankles and back up to her face in a way that Cora swears she can feel, like a feather traced up her spine. “Seriously? Have you ever….”
Cora sits back and glares at the nearest stack of books, refusing to look at Lydia. “I kissed a guy once. Before I knocked him on the ground.”
She glances at Lydia out of the corner of her eye. Lydia looks like she’s taking that information in, eyebrows slightly raised. Cora continues dismissively, “Whatever. I guess I’m not good at the romance thing.”
Lydia makes a thoughtful noise. “Honey, we’re human- well.” She makes a face, nose scrunched a little and for some reason it makes Cora’s heart jump. “What I’m saying is, it’s not only werewolves who have instincts. If you want it, kissing should come naturally.”
This conversation is edging into dangerous territory. Cora’s instincts for self-preservation are finely tuned, and right now they’re saying run. But that’s not really applicable in social situations.
No, she has to meet the enemy head on. The petite, sweet-smelling predator who’s looking at Cora from under dark lashes, sitting less than a foot away.
“Is it natural for you?” Cora asks. God, did she stutter a little just there? She’s grateful that banshee hearing only extends to the dead and that Lydia can’t catch the way her heart just sped up a bit.
“Mm-hm,” Lydia hums, still eyeing Cora. “Although by now it’s more about experience for me.”
Cora feels the tightness in her throat that wants to become a growl, remembering Boyd’s killer with his hands on Lydia, all the other meaningless human scents she’s caught on the girl. She clears her throat instead. “I don’t have instincts or experience.”
Lydia’s lips curve, and Cora turns to really look at her so she can see the smile full on. “The good thing about those is that one will follow the other.”
Cora doesn’t have anything to say to that. Lydia leans a little closer, rests one soft hand on Cora’s wrist, the lightest touch that makes Cora feel like it’s pinning her in place, like she couldn’t get away if she tried. But she doesn’t want to. Her heart’s racing in her ears and she finds herself sitting up a little straighter, drawn into Lydia’s orbit, willing her to close the distance between them.
“Would you like some tutoring?” Lydia asks softly.
Cora takes a deep breath. It shouldn’t be so hard to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. She’s surrounded by books giving her a hundred thousand variations on answers like this, endless words to fill up this charged silence, yet her mind’s empty of language. But oh, maybe a wolf’s instincts do come in handy here after all.
Cora surges forward, a controlled rush of action that has her slipping her hand behind Lydia’s head to cradle her fiery crown of hair, their mouths meeting. She thinks Lydia’s surprised, but she takes it in stride, kisses Cora back in a way that quickly has her taking control, guiding Cora’s eager but clumsy motions, smoothing them into something more graceful. She rests a hand on the hinge of Cora’s jaw, and Cora can feel the tips of her nails against her skin, not at all like a wolf’s claws but somehow no less sharp.
It’s nothing like the boy she briefly kissed in Brazil a year ago. It’s strange. It’s good. Lydia’s lips are so soft, slick and sweet from her raspberry lip gloss, and her hair feels like silk in Cora’s hand. She smells like paper and pencils and some flowery perfume.
Lydia draws back, lips parted, a faint blush to her cheeks that makes her smell all the more enticing. Her heart is pounding and it sounds like a victory to Cora. She wants to get her mouth on the slender white column of her throat where she can see her pulse fluttering, but even their secluded table behind the library shelves is too public. She reluctantly lets her hand drop.
The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and even Lydia looks like she didn’t expect it to go quite like that.
“I still don’t want a boyfriend,” Cora blurts. Lydia smiles again, pushes an errant lock of hair back into place.
jackson and colton are nothing but fuckboys. they got a fuckboy to play a fuckboy
It's kind of a shame because he clearly wanted to be Scott's kismesis and they could've really had something special. That's the only thing still remotely interesting to me about him, his giant hilarious blackcrush on Scott.
I'm so glad he never made a s3 cameo like it was rumored he would? He better not be the person they're promising to have back in s5. Please let Adelaide Kane come back. Lydia's done with teenage boys please let her get it on with Cora in the coach's office.
I hate how fandom forgave him everything because he was a ~sassy~ white boy. Remember in season one, “Night School”? Lydia mixed the Molotov cocktail and Jackson purposefully handed her the wrong chemical so that Scott would have to go up against Peter- who Jackson had seen and knew was a giant monstrous werewolf, not just a murderer- with a defective weapon. Hoping he’d be killed. And when Scott confronts Peter in the gym, the molly doesn’t work, and Peter almost succeeds in having Scott kill Allison, Stiles, Lydia, and Jackson’s spiteful entitled ass. His life was spared because Scott McCall is a goddamn force of nature. And then Scott saves his life from Derek later and he still doesn’t grow up.
And then in season two he treats Lydia like absolute trash. He’s an abusive dick and no amount of sarcastic one-liners or sad teary faces will make me care.
True, if he had stayed on and they had given him a proper ‘pride goeth before the fall’ redemption arc- not for the kanima thing, he wasn’t responsible, just for being a dick- and had him growing as a person (because of Scott), like Derek, then I could be into him and the dynamic he’d bring to the pack. But they never got to give him that chance and you know what? I’m fine, because I want as little of Colton “three times Blackface” Haynes in my life as possible.
ONCE YOU GET THIS YOU HAVE TO SHARE 6 RANDOM FACTS ABOUT YOURSELF AND THEN TAG YOUR 10 FAVORITE FOLLOWERS :)
Uhh okay.
1. My name is Karis
2. My top favorite songs are
Love on Top (Beyonce)
Save Rock and Roll (Fall Out Boy)
Do I Wanna Know (Arctic Monkeys)
A Certain Romance (Arctic Monkeys)
What a Catch, Donnie (Fall Out Boy)
No. 1 Party Anthem (Arctic Monkeys)
3. I'm a Slytherin
4. I'm an ENFP
5. I'm a Pisces (March 13)
6. I like acting and singing
Idk who to tag, cause I don't know which followers of mine hate these or not so if I tag you you don't have to do it if you don't want to but I tag: sexkittensanonymous scarletnlght argentknights askheadmasterambrose tomhiddlechan/mileycyrusdrake stonefieldtillithurts humongofrog diegotheduelmaster pyrodancer assalon
