bonfires with friends, heart pounding and sweaty palms, being terrified but just going for it, leather jackets, combat boots, flannel shirts, holey jeans, cutting holes in old tees, tees w/bands or things you like, baseball caps + beanies, beat up converse, tank tops when it’s too cold out, weird outfits that end up looking great or terrible (but usually great), weeds (esp. the flowery ones), four leaf clovers, going apple picking, corn mazes + scarecrows, laughing at scary movies/haunted houses, goosebumps books, going all-out for halloween, stepping on crunchy leaves, the way everything looks when all the trees are different colors in fall, really intense/fast-paced relationships, abrupt endings, angry tears, not calling first, pride, songs that pump you up + make you think you can do anything, making everything a contest, skinned knees + bloody knuckles, raw emotion, really graphic/detailed tattoos, finger/foot tattoos, not giving a shit that everyone hates something if you like it, others’ dislike making you do it more, making a ton of plans but never following them + winging it, spontaneous road trips, long night drives, jumping in a lake in the middle of winter, walking on a frozen pond, short hair/pixie cuts or always keeping it back, borrowing chapstick (and always needing it), coffee w/lots of sugar half the time and black the other, only thinking in extremes, not thinking + just doing, always knocking shit over but managing to catch it/never breaking it, reading summaries of everything for class, journals half-finished, super chocolatey ice cream, not having a plan for life but taking a chance
passing notes in class, love letters, astronomy, sweaters, anything knitted, poor patching jobs, mismatched buttons, ironed button shirts w/the sleeves rolled perfectly, dozens of cross-outs in handwritten work, paper painted w/tea, typewriter font, forget-me-nots, rainy/gloomy days, dresses w/tights, twirling in dresses, wearing stuff with pockets just so you don’t have to carry a purse, sunhats, mary janes, knee socks, shorthand notes from writing so much, telling jokes with your friends that make no sense to others, tons of blankets, singing really loud when you think you’re alone, indie/piano music, metaphors, a bunch of small random tattoos, one or two really deep loves, either going everywhere alone or with two best friends, braids, purposely messy hair, light brown hair, hair dyed bright colors, biting/picking your nails when you’re nervous, hot tea, overthinking/worrying + regretting, ballet, either really graceful or really clumsy, tripping but acting like you didn’t, classic literature, diaries, mint chocolate chip ice cream, being born into affluent families
whispering and laughing with your friends, hair always looking perfect, black lace dresses, leather boots, studded clothes, thigh-highs, wearing heels even when it’s impractical but refusing to complain, wearing stuff without pockets + then keeping stuff in your bra/boots, organized desks w/nothing out of place, cursive handwriting, ivy, pine trees, black/white roses, white candles, upside-down crosses, one whole day spent in bed + overworking the next, locking yourself away for long periods, the calm as snow falls, falling asleep not touching but waking up wrapped around each other, vultures, angry songs, either no tattoos or a lot (of words/sayings), rolling your eyes but secretly identifying with things, being the dumper, short relationships, breaking up w/someone because you’re scared when it gets serious, black hair, blonde hair that’s almost white, purple/black lipstick, black coffee, always poised/collected on the outside, breaking down for .2 seconds in front of someone and berating yourself for it, acting like an asshole because you’re insecure/uncomfortable, feeling terrible for betraying someone years after + going to them in the middle of the night to apologize, edgar allan poe stories, russian poetry, everything typed, italian ice/gelato, working your way to the top no matter what it takes
laughing so hard you can’t breathe and your sides ache, daisies + wishy flowers, sunflower seeds, watermelon, sundresses, polka dots, bright colors, jean jackets/shorts, rompers, patterned tights, snapbacks, taking the fall for someone, underdogs, smiling when you want to cry, not complaining because someone else is having a worse day, breezy spring days, hot summer beach trips, seed-spitting contests, guilt over something that’s not your fault, hugging stuffed animals/pillows, canaries, always humming + dancing around, upbeat pop/cute acoustic, one or two really meaningful tattoos/matching tattoos with someone, trying to walk barefoot outside but regretting it (then walking carefully on your toes), messy + super curly hair, golden blonde hair, freckles, dimples, a small gap in your teeth, fruity flavored lipgloss/light pink lipstick, cold drinks, being the first to text, grouptexts, twister, reading to little kids, shel silverstein, making scrapbooks/photo albums, vanilla ice cream w/rainbow sprinkles + whipped cream, sherbet ice cream, settling for the middle if being the best means cheating
Can you do a void stiles, when he and stiles where separated imagine where y/n is his reincarnated lover his “queen” and he kidnaps her and dresses her is a very fancy dress and drugs her to keep her compliment, I don,t mean like so he take advantage or her I mean the drug keeps her sluggish and prevents her from trying to escape and the pack has to come save her? - mollyhalefan
I hope I did your request justice and I hope you like it. Got an imagine you want me to write? Send me a message. Want a chat? I want a chat, message me.
Characters: Stiles, Reader, Nogitsune/Void!Stiles, The Pack
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader, mentions of Nogitsune/Void!Stiles x Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping, Reader gets drugged, Small amount of fluff
10:35pm. 25 minutes until Lydia’s ‘Kings and Queens’ party. I took one last look at myself in the mirror and straightened out my short, black, figure hugging dress. My hair’s styled in a half up, half down fashion. I turn to my bed to grab my heels and scream.
'Stiles! Don’t do that to me! How did you even get in?’ Stiles stood smirking in the doorway.
'Your mother let me in.’ That’s funny. Stiles never says 'mother.’ His make up is a bit weird though. What king is he going for then, I wondered.
'Okay, sorry, I forgot you were picking me up. I did think that you were going to pick me up a little later though. Let me just put my shoes on and grab my crown.’ I turned back to my bed and sat down. I took my black, gold studded high heels and slipped them on. I stood up again and realised that I was now the same height as Stiles. I then walked over to my dresser and picked up my small, golden crown and lifted it to my head.
'Wait! Little Dove, let me do the honours. Please?’ Little Dove? What is up with him?
'Sure thing, Stiles. If you really want to but then we’ve got to leave or we will be late.’ Stiles nodded and slowly stepped forward, took the crown from my hands and looked at it, smiling.
'Ready? Tilt forward slightly for me.’ I did as he asked. 'I’ve been waiting for this, Little Dove. I knew it was you when I first laid my eyes on you.’ What the hell is he talking about?
'Stiles?’ He positioned the crown on the top of my head and I stood up. Stiles placed a kiss on my forehead and I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my arm. I looked down to see a needle sticking out of the top of my arm. 'Stiles?! Wait?! You’re not Stiles. You’re the Nogitsune. Get away from me! What did you do to me?!’ My eyelids felt heavy and my head turned to cotton wool.
'Welcome home, my Queen.’ Were the last words I heard before sleep finally took over my body.
***10:49pm. Stiles’ POV***
'Y/N? Y/N? No-one was home and the door was unlocked. I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind. Y/N? We’ve got to go. Are you ready? I’m coming in your room now. I’m not looking. Y/N, answer me.’ I stepped into Y/N’s room with a hand over my eyes. Ok, there is a gap in my fingers but that’s only so I can see the floor. I don’t want to fall over and embarrass myself in front of Y/N. 'Y/N, are you here?’ I take my hand away from my face and look around. Instantly I knew something’s wrong. Y/N’s bag and phone were sprawled on the floor as though they’d been dropped. I instantly took my phone out and called Scott.
'Stiles, where are you, man? We’re missing you? How’s Y/N?’
'Scott! Listen to me. Y/N’s in trouble! She’s not at her house and she doesn’t have her phone or bag. I think I might know who has taken her but I need your help. Get the pack together and here to Y/N’s bedroom. I will call Derek. Please get here soon.’ And with that I hung up. Next Stiles dialled Derek’s number.
'Stiles? Go away. Not interested in your teenage problems. Talk to Peter. He’s weird and annoying. He will understand.’
'WAIT! Derek. It’s Y/N! She’s in trouble. Help us. I think the Nogitsune has her. I don’t know where she is though. You need to track her scent. Get to her bedroom now!’ And once again, I hung up.
I woke up to a dimly lit room that can only belong to an old, abandoned mansion. Candles scattered around on pillars, steps and stones.
'Welcome back, Little Dove, my Queen.’ The Nogitsune emerged from the darkness, and with his head tilted, slowly creeped towards me. I tried to shuffle back on floor but I could hardly move. ’ I wouldn’t wasted what little energy you still have, my Queen. I gave you a little shot of something to keep you from moving. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare think of taking advantage of you in this stage. It’s just a precaution. I wouldn’t want you to run away from me. Not again. You know what happened last time you did that.’
'No, I don’t.’ I panted. 'I have no idea what you are talking about. I’ve never been with you before. I knew you existed and I knew that you were living in Stiles’ body but never have I been with you alone before. And why do you keep calling me your Queen?!’
'Little Dove, don’t you recognise me? It’s me, Nogi. We were happily married spirits. One night whilst I was in the basement, you ran from me. Mrs Yukimura, a Kitsune, caught you and killed you. Now, after all of this time, you’ve come back to. Re-incarnated as this young teenager.’
'That’s not possible. Once a spirit dies they can’t co-’
'Little Dove, shhh. Do you need another shot?’
'No!’ I tried to move my legs again and they did. Well, a little but I looked down to make sure that I wasn’t tied up. To my surprise my black dress was no longer covering my body. What sat in its place was a light blue, prom-looking dress.
'You like your dress, my Queen? I picked it out myself. And I swapped out that cheap, fake crown that Stiles brought you for that stupid teenager party for your real crown.’ I shook my hair slightly and felt the weight of the crown on my head. I just wish the pack would think about finding me before I die here.
***10:56pm. Stiles’ POV***
'Tell us everything Stiles. Why do you think the Nogitsune has Y/N?’
'When the Nogitsune was in my head it kept going on about Y/N being its Queen. I just thought it was trying to me annoying and trying to drive me mad. Either that or it didn’t think that I noticed. Well I did. Every time it spoke to me in my dream, it took me to the same place. An abandoned mansion with a basement made of stone. There were stone steps leading down to the basement and the walls looked a lot like a cave. I think that’s where the Nogitsune and his 'wife’ lived. He kept telling me how Kira’s mother killed her. He kept showing my his wife’s dead body. She did look like Y/N but once a spirit is dead it can’t come back. It must just see the resemblance of Y/N to his wife and think they’ve come back for him. I can’t tell you where this mansion is though. HE never let me know that much.’
'I know where she is. I’ve pin pointed her scent to a place not far from here. I remember being told stories as a child of a mansion near here but I never believed that it was true. I guess it is. Let’s just go.’ Derek chipped in.
'We’re coming, Y/N.’ Stiles mumbled to himself as I took one last look around Y/N’s room.
***11:02pm Y/N’s POV***
'You said Stiles brought me that crown. Why would you say that? How do you know?’
'I was inside him when he brought it. Why would I lie to you, Little Dove? The moment he found out about that brat’s party, he went out looking for the 'perfect crown’ for you. What an idiot. Your real crown is the perfect crown for you. Where did you think that plastic piece of crap came from? Appeared out of no-where in your bedroom. Wrapped perfectly in a little box placed neatly on your bed that spawned from thin air? Be realistic, my Queen.’
'I thought my mum brought it for me after I told her about the party.’
'Don’t be stupid, Little Dove. Anyway, I must pop out to the store to get you something to eat. I forgot that you’d want something to eat. How rude of me. What would you like, my Queen?’
'Chocolate.’ I’ve got to get rid of him and find a way out.
'I will get you as much chocolate as I can. Only the best for you, Little Dove. I will be back in 20 minutes or so. Remember, you can’t escape this time, my Queen. I will see you soon, Little Dove.’ And with that he disappeared up the stairs. Now I’ve just got to pull myself over to the window.
'Y/N? Y/N! Are you here? Y/N?!’ Stiles? or the Nogitsune?
'Y/N its us.’ Derek!
'Help me!’ I breathed knowing the werewolves could here me. I slumped further into the floor, not having a lot of energy. Suddenly Stiles, Derek, Scott, Issac, Lydia and Allison were crowded around me. I felt a strong pair of arms lift me off of the floor and sleep took over my body once more.
***11:31pm Y/N’s POV***
I woke up to voices.
'Y/N needs to be watched. I will do it. I know I’m not going to be going to sleep tonight anyway. I can’t. Not knowing that Y/N’s like this. I will keep watch. The slightest strange think to happen and I will let you know immediately. We will be fine. Go home.’
Shuffling. That’s all I hear. Then a door close. Then footsteps down the stairs. Then another door shut. Then an echo of 'Goodnights.’ Then cars starting. Then cars pulling away. Then silence. Then sobbing. I lift my heavy eyelids and turn to face the noise. It’s Stiles with his head in his hands. I slowly reached my hand across to his and squeeze gently. He looks up and gasps.
'Y/N! I’m so sorry. I should have got here earlier. I could have stopped all of this. I could have st-’
'Stiles. Shut up. Don’t even think for a second that this was your fault because it wasn’t. No one knew this was going to happen, no one. Please don’t beat yourself up about this. Now come here and lay next to me.’
'Okay but can I ask why?’
'Because I need to say thank you.’ I felt a slightly cold breeze where the covers had been lifted and the bed dip slightly under his weight. I snuggled closer to him and wrapped my arms around his thin middle.
'Why do you need to thank me?’
'Because you knew something was wrong. You knew I was in danger and I know that most of the finding was you.’ I leaned my head up to meet his and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. He kissed back, pulling himself on top of me. I found my hands snaking up to his neck and playing his the small hairs that met my fingers. Stiles soon pulled back and rested his forehead on mine.
'What was that for?’
'To say thank you for my crown.’
'How did you know it was me?’
'A sneaky fox told me.’ Stiles shook his head and laid back down next to me, resuming the position we were in before. I smiled contently and felt sleep taking over my body again for the final time that day. 'Good night, Stiles.’
'Good night, Princess’
'One day you will be my Queen.’ I punched him lightly in the arm and chuckled. Darkness taking over once and for all.
I woke up that morning to feel the opposite side of the bed was cold. “Vic?” I called getting out of bed and wrapping the duvet around my bare shoulders. I walked downstairs and saw an envelope on the counter with Y/N written on it in Vic’s sloppy hand writing. I laughed and opened the envelope.
Author’s Note: This was shit. I’m sorry anons. :( I tried my best to make it flow. I love TV shows. I’m sorry. Again, Inspired by,How I Met Your Mother: A Change of Heart s6E18.
Requested by Anonymous:
hello love! I just read a couple of your latest and I’m in awe. this is why I’m trusting you with a prompt: There’s a new member on the team, and for the most part the team likes her. She’s sarcastic, funny, smart, and a complete fucking trainwreck. Like, manic pixie dream girl type shit. But, she’s very good at was she does. She has crazy colours in her hair and body mods etc. Maybe even some unsavoury illegal habits. Cap thinks she’s fascinating, and is having a hard time accepting that.
Requested by Anonymous: Can I have one where the reader reads minds and saves someone off the street from attempt rape?
Warnings: Attempt Rape
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
“We’re going,” you stated bluntly.
The Avengers in the room sighed. The members that did have the day-off were lounging around the common room and just wanted to hang out at the Tower, but you wanted to go out and live your life before your untimely demise. You guys had a risky job, meaning every moment is valuable.
Natasha stated flatly, “We’re not going to a bar.”
“Fine,” you said with a smirk. The others looked at you with eyebrows raised, suspicious on why you caved in so easily. “Just remember,” you then continued with a finger raised. “I’ve got dirt on each of you, and I am not afraid to spill it.”
The team let out an exasperated sigh. Tony explained, “Y/N, you can’t blackmail us into going to a bar.”
“Really, Tony?” you challenged with a lit-up face. “Even if I were to mention,” you started, your face scrunched up, pretending to be in deep thought, which quickly faded to nothing but a mischievous smirk. “Oh, I don’t know… the guinea pig?”
Tony gasped, then narrowed his eyes. “You son of a bitch.”
“Language,” you said in a singsongy voice. Then, you sent a wink at the super soldier, who just shook his head with a smile.
“Fine,” Tony announced.
You smiled at that. “Clint?” you challenged, hip jutted out.
“You got nothing on me,” he affirmed with a confident look.
“The calzone?” you simply said.
He bowed his head. “Checkmate,” he uttered.
“Nat,” you tested, placing a hand on your hip.
“Don’t say the dream, don’t say the dream, don’t say the dream,” she repeated under her breath, looking down at the floor. The boys in the room looked at her with furrowed brows, wondering what would have the confident assassin so nervous with a tail between her legs. She looked up at you to see you with one eyebrows raised.
“I’m gone,” Nat announced, leaning back on the couch, defeated.
“Steve?” you confronted.
“Go ahead,” Steve stated. “Give me your best. My life’s an open book. Quite literally. There’s an exhibit of my life in the Smithsonian.”
“Newspapers in your shoes,” you said.
“I had to put newspapers in my shoes, so they wouldn’t slip off when I walk,” he explained fearlessly. “Not ashamed.”
You said with narrowed eyes, “Back alleys.”
“Behind a movie theater. Told a guy to shut up. Got punched in the face.” Steve said. “What else you got?” The others in the room chuckled at this. Steve was always playful with you, compared to his soldier-self during mission.
“Okay Steve,” you stated confidently, crossing your arms in front of you. “The thermos.”
Steve’s eyes widened. He then quickly added, “I think going to a bar tonight is a great idea.”