swim spot


Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Theo x Reader

Summery: Theo finally has some fun with his childhood crush

Warnings: Teaseing, 18+ gif under cut

“Hey, you want a ride?” Theo called as he spotted you walking home alone. “Come on, we live right next door it’s not like it’s out of the way.”

He growled to himself when you shyly shook your head and hurried away. He liked to think he’d moved on from pre-school, but here he was, feeling like he was back in first grade. Except now you were hot and didn’t have any building blocks for him to knock over.

He made such an idiot of himself in first grade, tiddling after you, stealing toys and pulling your pigtails in utter desperation to get your attention. He would forever be sat on the naughty step watching other kids play with you, his best friend and neighbour, simply because he’d not wanted to share you.

Theo let his mind run over his most recent daydreams as he stopped at a red light. There was no doubt in his mind you’d be submissive, the scent of complains clouded his head every time he passed you in the corridor, making it hard not to just throw and arm over your shoulder and steer you to an empty class room.

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anonymous asked:

Lance being stronger than Keith makes sense because that boy has those legs and the way he poses randomly means his core is sturdy af, so I imagine our boy does yoga and swim (he also spots for Hunk who is the strongest sooooo)

dude like legit tho, give my boy some credit.

  • lance likes to mix it up with yoga and resistance yoga on solo training days
    • yoga was something he did with his sisters and fam, then they found resistance yoga and let me tell you that boy loves it
    • he got hunk and pidge in on it too during their time at the garrison and sometimes hunk will still join him
    • gives him all the core strength and control over his bod
    • he teaches coran and allura about it too, ends up being a group thing after a couple of days
  • and you cant not tell me that boy doesnt play soccer or swim because damn those leggies and shoulders
    • im really pulllin for soccer lance because you cant tell me that him wanting voltron to do a super kick and him launching that freaking puffer fish at hunks face in season two is just a cowinky dink. no this boy plays
    • and those shoulders? mm gotdamn they be good. he definitly has a swimmer-esque body, broad shoulders and chest scream swimmer to me. 
    • and with being a swimmer, your body is worked everywhere, lance has some muscle under those baggy clothes
  • hunk is his bro, ofc he would spot for him
  • thats not saying if hunk ever got stuck or something he’d be abe to deadlift the weights off, but he would be able to atleast get it to the point where hunk is able to get out (not saying that hunk would ever get stuck because that boy, man, good luck with that)
    • tbh, i think lance can lift about half of what hunk can, and thats damn good for his body type.
    • all his strength be in his leggies
Coffee Fever

Edit: Should be fixed!

HOLY FUCK THIS WAS HARD. Sickfics are waaaaay harder than I thought they’d be. This was requested by @taylor-tut. Thanks for the prompt!

Prompt: I am here to submit a prompt! What about maybe a domestic, relaxed weekend with the paladins where Allura has planned a bunch of cute bonding stuff like a movie night and a relay race and shit. Lance has what he thinks is just a migraine, but he’s trying to push through it, maybe even drinking a bunch of coffee to get rid of it. And it turns out he’s got a fever and all the (caffienated) running around he did made it worse? :O

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While the two of you were walking down the street your shirt raised up when you yawned. “Sweetie, what’s this?” He’d say as he was pointing at the tattoo on your hip. “You don’t seem like someone that would get tattoos. They look so sexy on you though!”

You two were swimming when he suddenly spotted the tattoo on your inner thigh.He’d find it very arousing. He’d want to keep touching it. “It looks so hot babe.”

You two were playing when he suddenly lifted your shirt and saw a tattoo underneath your breasts. He’d find it so hypnotising and alluring. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Your chest looks even sexier baby”

He was spanking you when… Y'all nasty af y'all probably wanted it smh

You were changing your clothes besides Namjoon when his eyes suddenly landed on the tattoo that you had on your shoulder blade. He thought it was really captivating and would constantly ask you questions about the process and if it hurt.It would inspire him to get a tattoo one day.

You were laying down on his lap when his eyes suddenly landed on the tattoo behind your ear. He’d be fascinated by it. “It looks so great on you and the details are amazing! It’s so well tattooed!” Whenever he spotted you he’d always look at your tattoo.

You one day suddenly showed Taehyung your tattoo. He was surprised when you showed him that it was in your inner lip. “How do they even do that?” “Isn’t it wet and slippery?” He’d think it was so pretty and unique! “It really suits you! It’s so beautiful!”

You were shopping for a swimsuit with Jungkook. After you tried a bikini he saw the tattoo on your pelvic area. He’d think that it was very cool and badass. “I can’t believe someone like you would get a tattoo right in that area!” “It looks so cool! I love it!”


anonymous asked:

I need some angst... Hanzo, Genji and Zarya's trying to find their s/o who is fighting talon soldiers, and when do find them, they end getting shot right front of them... But somehow ending surviving.


He keeps to the rooftops, far removed from the chaos in the streets. His sonic arrows show him a path through the worst of it and when he stumbles over his teammates, cornered and trying to find their way back to the point, he helps as best he can. McCree waves a thanks at him when he shoots an attacker that would have flanked him but Hanzo barely sees. He’s searching, wasting his sonic equipment to save those crucial few seconds. The terrain is dominated by narrow alleys winding between high buildings that cast perpetual twilight on the streets below and carry echoes until their source is all but indeterminable. What he needs is visual confirmation, that’s the only way he’s ever going to find you in time. The last thing he heard from you was your frantic request for backup, the comm line breaking before you could pass on your position. He didn’t wait for Reinhardt’s permission to go look for you, knows there’s a lecture about teamwork in stock for him, but his team has things under control. You might still be in trouble.

Another arrow loosened and finally your silhouette appears before his eyes, unmistakably alive. Just a little more, around this chimney, he almost slips because he doesn’t look where he’s going, keeps his eyes on you, fearing you might disappear. He spots the man taking aim behind you before you do. And though he shouts, screams in fact so loud his lungs feel like bursting, he’s too far away for you to hear. The gunshot overcasts the sonic waves of his arrow, he’s blind to your fate, doesn’t know if you’ve been hit, if you’re still alive.
He trips over his feet the last metres, falls down the roof, not bothering to catch his fall, grabbing an arrow instead and ramming it into the enemy’s head, clean through his skull until the tip pierces his throat from the inside. He gurgles, falls over and Hanzo has to push his lifeless body to prevent it from falling on you.

You’re unconscious, but your hands are covered in blood, you must have tried to still the bleeding, which means you were still alive when you fell. Hanzo sinks to his knees at your side, searches for your pulse and doesn’t find it in his panic. Nothing, except his own heart hammering in his throat. His vision swims, the spot where the bullet struck in almost the exact same place where he impaled Genji nearly two decades ago, the blood-soaked fabric of your clothes clinging to your skin just as it did back then. He thinks he can smell the dojo, the wood and fibre, the incense, as he presses down on the gaping wound, blood squelching through his fingers. He’s doing it wrong, there’s more he ought to do but he can’t remember, doesn’t know, because all he sees is you and Genji, dying underneath his hands.

When his brother touches his shoulder he nearly screams.

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Stiles- I’ll Always Want This

Request-  Hello, can I request a imagine where the reader is Scott’s human little sister (15 years) and hunter kidnap her and torture her to get information out of Scott so the whole pack tries to find her.

A/N- So I kind of did my own thing with this, but I hope you like it! Sorry I’ve been so inactive guys, I’ve been catching up on a lot of things now that I have some free time. Enjoy!

You pulled back the blinds of your living room window, watching as your brother Scott’s dirtbike disappeared down the street. The neighborhood was dark for a few brief seconds after he rounded the corner, but soon a pair of headlights was shining up your driveway.
You broke into a grin and pulled open the door, and slipped out into the warm summer air. The lights were so bright in your eyes that you couldn’t see his face when he hopped out of the car, but the familiar silhouette of the jeep told you that Stiles was there, and he was there for you.
He met you halfway after you bounded down the steps, and tugged you close to him. “Scott’s gone?”
You nodded, and his lips quirked up. Scott wasn’t there to see him lean in and press his lips to yours, but Stiles knew that if he had been, he would kill him. Especially considering the way he was kissing you, which was not church, child, or brother appropriate.
Scott knew you two had always been close, he just didn’t know exactly how close. It hadn’t been going on for a long time, and it all started after Stiles came back from the Wild Hunt, but you knew Scott would be upset either way.
Stiles wasn’t sure what it was about being forgotten that had changed his perspective, but he did know that everything was different. He was getting older and he was growing, but so were you. You were no longer just Scott’s baby sister. You were strong, and you were beautiful, and Stiles couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized how he felt before.
You had been a constant in his life ever since he met Scott, and the thought of you forgetting him had sent him into a panic, especially considering you had been with him the night he disappeared. The way you had thrown yourself into his arms when he got back was just enough to seal the deal for him, and make him realize that he didn’t have anything to lose by telling you how he felt.
There was nothing you could do but kiss him when he confessed, and while you felt the same way about each other, you both agreed that you had to keep it a secret from Scott. Your brother was protective, and Stiles was afraid that it would destroy their friendship. After everything they had been through together, you agreed that couldn’t happen.
Maybe meeting him in secret when Scott left the house was a little sneaky, but you couldn’t just tell your brother the truth. He would kill you, and then he would kill Stiles, and then none of you would be happy. It was much better-and safer-for you and Stiles to keep your relationship a secret. After all, what Scott didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
When you finally pulled away from Stiles in the driveway, he was wearing a goofy smile on his face. “So where are we going tonight?”
“I was thinking I’d surprise you,” he told you.
You smiled. “Okay, can I have a hint?”
Stiles thought for a minute. “We’ll have the place all to ourselves.”
You raised your eyebrows. “You’re not planning on taking me out to the woods and murdering me are you?”
Stiles gave a sigh of exasperation. “Y/n, come on, you’re ruining the surprise. You can’t do that.”
You rolled your eyes, and Stiles grinned. “Come on. You’re too cute to murder. Besides, I’m pretty sure you could kick my ass anyway. You’d probably end up dumping my body in the woods.”
“You always say the sweetest things, Stiles.”
“Come on, Smartass,” he told you with a roll of his eyes. “I’m about to blow your mind.”
You laughed and followed him to the jeep. “We’ll see.”

You watched the trees blur past you in the darkness as you stared out the window of the jeep. Stiles gave your hand a squeeze, and you glanced back at him.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’m just thinking.”
“About what?” he asked.
“Just…you guys leaving, and my senior year.”
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Stiles assured you. “I mean, at least you probably won’t have your memories erased again. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place and all that.”
You scoffed, and muttered “It does in Beacon Hills.”
Stiles gave your hand another comforting squeeze. “It’ll be alright. I know for a fact you can take care of yourself. You don’t need me.”
You looked over at him, meeting his brown eyes. “I think we’ve already agreed that I do.”
Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but a pair of headlights caught his eye in the rearview mirror. “Huh.”
“What?” you questioned, turning around in your seat.
“Just that car behind us,” he told you. “No one really comes here. Like ever.”
“Well, we’re out here,” you said, looking back through the windshield at the winding back road.
A dark car was following behind you, but it was impossible to tell the color on the dimly lit backroad. You noticed it was keeping its distance, but something about it set Stiles on edge.
“Well, yeah, but I’m surprising you with the best date ever.”
“Maybe they’re doing that too.”
“I just didn’t think many people knew about this place,” he said casually, although you could hear the suspicious undertone in his voice.
“Stiles,” you said softly. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”
He swallowed. “I know. It’s just…I just…”
“It’s hard not to be worried,” you agreed. “After everything that happened, I totally get that.”
“I’m ruining this date, aren’t I?” he asked with a frown.
“No,” you promised him. “You’re not. But I want you to know that tonight is our night. There’s no Scott, no supernatural disasters…just you and me.”
Stiles smiled softly. “I like the sound of that.”
You drove for a few more minutes, and then Stiles took a turn down an even smaller dirt road. As the jeep bounced across the dirt, that car that had been behind you continued down the road and disappeared from sight. You looked over at Stiles.
“See? They’re probably just going camping or something.”
You watched as the tension disappeared from his shoulders, and his grip on the steering wheel loosened. “Yeah.”
He drove down the road for what felt like forever, the radio crackling peacefully between you. It might have seemed strange to be comforted by the noise of a police radio, but the sound reminded you of Stiles, and every moment you had shared in the jeep. It was a sound that told you that, even if it was just for the moment, everything was okay.
Stiles finally turned the wheel and pulled to a stop of the middle of a field. It was a small clearing, and you were a little confused as to why he had just stopped in an empty field, but when you got out of the car, you gasped.
Stiles ran around the jeep, and pulled open the door for you, and as your feet hit the grass, the view alone was enough to cause your sharp intake of breath. Hundreds of stars were shining above you, clear as the light of day.
“Do you like it?” Stiles asked softly.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.
“My mom used to take me out here whenever I had a bad day. We’d lay on top of the jeep, and she’d tell me all the stories of how the stars got their names.”
“Can we?” you asked thickly, glancing over at the jeep.
Stiles grinned. “Of course.”
He climbed onto the hood and held out a hand to help you up, and when you took it, he yanked you up next to him. You followed him onto the roof and he laid back, patting the spot on the metal next to him.
You carefully laid down and scooted closer, letting out a small sigh of content. Stiles wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and he smiled down at you.
“Do you know any of them?” Stiles asked, gesturing toward the sky.
“Just the big and little dippers,” you told him.
He pointed above you. “That one right there? That’s Orion’s Belt.”
“Orion? Like the Greek hunter guy?”
“Yep,” he told you. “He loved the goddess Artemis. She was this badass huntress warrior…kind of a righteous bitch too, but Orion loved her. The story says that her brother, Apollo, didn’t like that. So one day, he dares Orion that he can’t swim out to a spot in the ocean. Then he goes to Artemis, and he’s like ‘Hey, Sis, bet you can’t hit that tiny speck in the ocean.’ And she’s, like, the goddess of archery, so of course she does, but then, his body washes up onto shore and she realizes she just killed Orion.”
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “That’s terrible.”
“There are a few different versions of the story,” Stiles explained. “But they all end the same way. Artemis realizes what she’s done, and she wants to save Orion, but it’s too late. So she takes his body, and she places it with the stars…like a memorial.”
“That’s not a bad way to be remembered,” you said softly. “With the stars.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Apollo was a pretty awful brother if you ask me. I mean, if Scott found out about us, I’d rather just have him kill me to my face, you know?”
You smacked his arm. “Stiles!”
“What?” he asked.
“He wouldn’t do that,” you grumbled. “He’d probably try to kick your ass, and he’d lock me in my room forever, but I doubt he’d try to trick me into killing you. He’s not that smart.”
“He’s a lot smarter than you think,” Stiles informed you.
“Well, he hasn’t found out about us,” you pointed out.
“Yeah…but what are we gonna do when I leave?” he asked you.
“It’ll be pretty easy to keep quiet when you’re not around,” you said softly.
Stiles blinked, and swallowed harshly. “Do you wanna break up?”
“What?” you demanded, staring at him wide-eyed. “Do you?”
“No, no, no,” he said quickly. “God, Y/n, we just got started. I hate having to leave you. I hate that I won’t be here with you, but I’m gonna be halfway across the country. I just want to make sure that you still want this.”
“Stiles,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always want this. I’ll always want you.”
You pushed yourself up on your elbows and moved toward him, and when you pressed your lips to his, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He slid his fingers up to gently cup your cheek, and you shifted closer to him, until you were practically on top of him.
Crickets chirped around you in the summer night, and there was nothing but the sound of you, and Stiles, and the woods. You remembered all the summer nights you had spent with him, most of them before you were even together. Scott was usually there, begging you to leave them alone, but Stiles never minded when you tagged alone. He called you the three musketeers.
“They didn’t have a girl,” Scott would grumble.
“They do now,” you had told him, sticking your tongue out at him.
You would have given anything just to live in of those moments again, before all of the supernatural creatures and the death. So many things had changed, and you weren’t going to lie. It scared you.
Your world has shifted so much in the past few years, and you had no doubt that it would continue to twist and turn. You liked to think you handled it in stride, granted, with a lot of tears and blood, but still. With your brother and Stiles leaving, you were going to be the oldest in the pack. You were going to be wise one, the experienced one, and it hadn’t been so long ago that you had been the youngest.
Being without Stiles to guide you scared the wits out of you, and you weren’t so sure you could handle Beacon Hills without him. You had already seen how well that had gone when the ghost riders took him away.
It might have been terrifying, but the one thing you knew was that you had Liam, Hayden and Mason to have your back. Even Malia might still be there, because she was deciding on whether or not to leave and join Braeden with her mercenary work. The more you thought about it, and the more you melted into Stiles’ arms, you began to feel like maybe this wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe it was the beginning.
“Stiles,” you whispered suddenly, disconnecting your lips.
“Is everything okay?” he asked breathlessly.
You nodded. “It’s just…I want you to know I love you.”
His brown eyes went wide, and he sputtered with his words for a few seconds. “Y-you mean that?”
You took a deep breath and started to reply, but the crunch of tires on dried grass caused you to look up. Another car was pulling into the field, and in the few seconds it took you to disentangle yourself from Stiles, you realized it looked eerily similar to the car from before.
Stiles sat up on the roof next to you, and he squinted at the car. “Y/n, get in the car.”
“What?” you asked nervously. “Stiles, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t like it.”
He quickly and calmly slid down from the roof, offering you a hand down. The slamming of doors made you jump, and before you could make a move for the doors, you could see two huge shapes heading toward you and Stiles.
“Stay behind me,” he whispered, holding out an arm in front of you. “Can I help you guys with something?”
Now that they were closer, you could see that there were two men, both large and muscular, walking toward the jeep.
“Yeah, actually,” one of them called, stopping in the grass. “We’re looking for someone. Someone named Scott.”
You bristled, but you said nothing. Stiles shrugged. “Uh, Scott who? That’s a pretty popular name in this town.”
“Scott McCall,” he told Stiles. “Know him?”
Stiles shook his head. “Sorry, don’t know him. I doubt he’d be out here anyway.”
“What about you?” the second man asked, looking over at you.
You shook your head. “No idea. Sorry.”
“Really?” the guy asked. “I didn’t think someone could forget their own brother that easily.”
Every muscle in Stiles’ body went taut, and a chill ran down your spine. “Scott’s not here, okay? Whatever you want from him-”
“We want her.”
You moved closer to Stiles, eyeing the men in the dark. They were both looking at you, and you guessed whatever they wanted you for wasn’t exactly pleasant.
“I can’t help you.”
The first man laughed. “I think you can, Ms. McCall.”
Stiles stepped all the way in front of you. “She said she can’t.”
The man smirked, and glanced over at you. No sooner had you wondered what he was so smug about than you were ripped off your feet with a shriek. A thick, meaty hand clamped over your mouth, and Stiles whirled around with shock on his face. His eyes widened at the third man struggling to keep a hold on you. He must have been hiding farther away and sneaked over from the trees.
You were kicking out and scratching him, trying to wriggle free, and he seemed to be shocked you were fighting so hard. It took Stiles less than a second to rip open the back door of the jeep and yank out his aluminum baseball bat. The two other men stepped forward, and Stiles swung wildly, catching on of them in the face.
Seeing him fight stirred up something inside you as well, and you brought your fingers up and swiped your nails across your captor’s face. He yelped and dropped you as you scratched his eyes, and you hit the ground with a thud. You tried to scramble forward, your fingers digging into the dirt, but he picked you back up and slammed you down.
You let out a yelp, and Stiles glanced over in worry. You felt your heart sink, and while he was distracted, one of the other men grabbed the baseball bat in his hands and brought it up to slam into his forehead. You screamed as Stiles hit the ground, blood streaming from his head.
Even after everything you had seen, you had never stopped being terrified at the sight of your friends bleeding out. You tried to crawl toward him, but the man simply dragged you up from the ground and held your arms behind you.
You struggled, your eyes still on Stiles, but soon the other two men were walking toward you. The one who had hit Stiles dropped the bat on the ground with a thump, and you flinched at the sound.
You glared up at them as they came over. The man who seemed like the leader pursed his lips.
“Sorry it had to happen like this, Y/n. It was supposed to go much smoother. We were planning on taking you from your house when your brother left, but then Romeo here showed up.”
He gestured to Stiles, and your narrowed your eyes. “What do you want from me?”
“Information,” he told you simply. “You tell us how your brother’s powers can be taken, and we leave you here so you can drive your boyfriend to the hospital. I’d be surprised if that hit hasn’t given him brain damage…unless he already had it before. He seemed pretty stupid to me.”
“This is how you’re planning to get information from me?” you finally asked weakly. “Great tactic. You’re gonna have to try again though.”
“Alright, how about this?”
You weren’t prepared for the jolt you felt when his fist met with your cheek, but you would later realize you should have been. You tasted blood as you looked back up at him, raising your eyebrows.
“You’re gonna have to try a little harder than that,” you slurred through the blood.
He raised his eyebrows, looking over at his buddies. “Did you hear that guys? She said harder.”
The second one grinned. “We can show her harder.”
He stepped forward, curling his right hand into a fist, and to your credit, you didn’t close your eyes. You did look away though, and the last thing you saw before you blacked out was Stiles, lying unconscious in the field. If you ignored all the blood, you could almost imagine that he was peacefully asleep, so that was what you did. He was the last thought on your mind when you felt that final, jarring hit, and despite the situation, it made you feel a little less terrified.

Stiles woke up with a gasp, sweat pooling on his forehead, along with one sticky, familiar substance. He held a hand to his head and squinted down at the blood on it, and that was when he noticed the bat glinting in the corner of his eye. His eyes landed in the bloody weapon, and when he pushed himself weakly to his feet, everything came back to him.
He stumbled as he took in the jeep, the field, and the stars. You had been with him. You had been behind him when they grabbed you and ripped you away from him, and he remembered your scream before the blow to his head.
He looked around the field, trying to find you, or the men, but their car was gone.
“Y/n!” he screamed. He knew it was unlikely that you were still there, but he knew he had to try anyway.
“Y/n! Y/n!”
His voice was ragged and broken, and as he stood there in the dark, the stars shining above him, he knew this was his fault. He had taken you out here, and someone had taken you.
He leaned against the jeep and pulled out his phone, knowing he would have to call Scott. He dialed his number and allowed himself a sigh of relief when his best friend picked up.
“What’s up man?”
“Scott,” he breathed. “S-something’s wrong. Where are you?”
“I’m at Liam’s,” he told him. “Why? What happened?”
“Y/n…she…someone took her.”
“What?” Scott cried. “From the house?”
“No, no we…we were outside. I took her out to look at the stars. Someone followed us into the woods. They-they took her, Scott. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”
“Stiles,” Scott said suddenly. “Why were you with my sister?”
“I-Scott, why does it matter?” he asked. “We have to find her.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll call the others. You’re in the field, right? We’ll meet you there.”
“Yeah. Just hurry,” Stiles breathed. “I-I don’t know how long I’ve been out. She could be anywhere by now.”
“She’s my sister, Stiles,” Scott reminded him firmly. “We’ll find her.”

“How many were there?” Scott asked, staring down at Stiles as he sat on the hood of the
“Three,” he said, wincing as Lydia pressed a piece of gauze to his head. “Two of them
came from a car, and I think one of them must have been watching from the woods, because he came up and grabbed her from behind.”
“Did they hurt her?” Scott demanded.
“I didn’t see it,” Stiles admitted. “But when I woke up up and went over there was blood on the ground. It’s probably hers.”
“It is,” Liam admitted softly, coming over with Malia in tow. “It’s hers. It’s not a lot though…so isn’t that a good thing?”
“They took her for a reason,” Stiles said bitterly. “They said they were looking for you at first, but I think they just wanted her. They were probably following us since the moment I picked her up.”
“Why was she with you?” Scott asked. “Why didn’t she tell me you two were hanging out?”
Lydia glanced down at Stiles, her green eyes cautious and knowing. “I’m going to see if I can feel anything where she was taken.”
She gestured to Malia and Liam. “Maybe the three of us can put the pieces together.”
Stiles watched as they walked away, and then glanced back at Scott, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes.
“Stiles,” he said, accusation in his tone. “Why was my sister with you?”
Stiles swallowed and closed his eyes. “I was taking her out to look at the stars. It was supposed to be date.”
“What?” Scott demanded. “Why were you taking her on a date?”
“Because she’s my girlfriend, Scott,” Stiles said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “She has been since I got back.”
Before he could blink, Scott was grabbing him by the throat and slamming him down onto the hood of the jeep. “You were dating my sister without telling me?! You-you did this behind my back!”
“Scott-” he choked. “It wasn’t-it wasn’t like how you’re thinking-”
“She’s my little sister!” he snarled. “And you took her out here, and now she’s gone.”
“Stop it!” Malia cried, appearing suddenly and yanking Scott away from Stiles. “This isn’t
going to help us find her. You have a right to be mad, but honestly, you’re the only one who didn’t know about it.”
“What?” Scott cried.
“It was kind of obvious,” Liam admitted. “We just thought you’d figure it out on your own.”
Scott huffed, and turned away. He didn’t look at Stiles once. “Did Lydia find anything?”
Malia shook her head. “Nothing more than we already know. Just that she’s still alive.”
Stiles moved away from the jeep. “She has to feel something. There has to be something.”
He walked over to the Banshee, who simply shook her head sadly at him. “Stiles-”
“Scream,” he ordered.
“Lydia, please,” he begged. “I know we might not find anything, but it’s worked before. Can you please try?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Cover your ears.”
She glanced back toward the rest of the Pack and said the same thing to them, and when she was sure they were doing it, she opened her mouth. Stiles watched painfully as the air rippled around her, and when she finally stopped, she looked around slowly.
“Do you-”
“Shh,” she shushed him, holding up her hand.
She closed her eyes, and soon the crackling of static began to fill her ears. She slowly turned around, and Stiles and the others watched as she walked back through the field toward them. Her sandals crunched in the dry grass as she made her way over to the jeep, and yanked open the door.
“Lydia, what is i-”
“Shh!” she hissed, trying desperately to understand something only she could hear. ”It’s the radio.”
She closed her eyes and leaned down toward the radio, listening as the static slowly began to morph into a sweet, familiar voice.
Let go of me, you were slurring. You sounded barely conscious, and Lydia felt nervousness fluttering in the pit of her stomach.
Look familiar? She heard another voice ask.
In her mind, you let out a weak, bitter laugh. ‘Course it’s this place. Everything that happened down here…and for years we never even knew it was here.’
The banshee static suddenly went silent, and Lydia opened her eyes. “No, no, no,” she whispered. “Come on. Come on.”
She reached forward the fumble with the channels on the radio, but all she could hear was silence. She was so close. She had heard you, and now you were gone.
“Lydia,” a voice finally said.
She looked up to see Malia placing her hand over hers, stopping her fingers from roaming over the buttons. She met the Coyote’s eyes, and she noticed a hint of regret in them.
“It’s not even on,” she said softly.
“I heard her,” Lydia said firmly, glancing over at the others. “She sounded like she might have been hurt, but she was alive.”
“What did she say?” Scott demanded. “Did she say anything about who took her? Or where she is?”
Lydia shook her head. “Not about who took her, but someone did ask if wherever they were looked familiar. And she said ‘Of course it’s this place. After everything that happened down here, and we never even knew it was here.’”
“Everything that happened here…” Scott said softly.
“In Beacon Hills?” Liam asked skeptically. “That could be anywhere. I mean, name one place here that hasn’t had some supernatural attack.”
“You can’t,” Malia stated bitterly. “So it looks like we’re back to square one.”
“Wait, wait,” Stiles spoke up suddenly. He had been gripping the door of the jeep and staring at Lydia as she listened, and he refused to believe that what she heard couldn’t help. “Were those her exact words? She said ‘everything that happened down here’?”
Lydia nodded. “She said ‘down’.”
“How many places have we almost died in that are underground?” Stiles asked.
“Well there was Malia’s coyote den,” Scott said. “The one you almost froze to death in. But I doubt they’d take her there.”
“The tunnels at Oak Creek,” Lydia suggested.
“And the tunnels under the town,” Stiles said firmly.
“The ones under the town make the most sense,” Liam offered. “I mean if you wanted to torture someone for information without anyone to hear, that would be the best place, right?”
Stiles and Scott shot a glare at him, and he swallowed nervously. “Sorry.”
“He’s got a point,” Malia pointed out. “The Dread Doctors did it.”
“But those tunnels stretch for miles,” Lydia protested. “She could be anywhere.”
“We can find her,” Stiles swore, stepping forward. “If we have to search all night, if we have to search for days, months…we’re going to find her.”
Stiles said it so firmly and with so much conviction that Scott looked over at him in shock. He met his brown eyes, but Stiles simply nodded at him.
“We’re going to find her,” he repeated softly.
“He’s right,” Scott confirmed. “Stiles, where do we start?”
Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Uh, well, I guess…I guess we would start with the closest entrance. There aren’t any around here, but there must be some sewers off the main roads.”
“We can split up,” Malia suggested. “Me, Liam and Lydia can take one way, and you two can take another. We’ll follow her scent.”
“We should probably stop at my house so I can get you something with her scent,” Scott said.
“Hold on,” Stiles, walking over to pull open the backdoor of the jeep.
He reached in and pulled out a balled up piece of fabric, and handed it over to Scott. Your brother recognized it as one of your favorite jackets.
“She, uh, she forgot it in here a couple days ago,” Stiles explained. “It should still smell like her though.”
“It does,” Malia assured him, pulling it from Scott’s hands. “It’s more than enough. Come on, guys. Let’s find her.”
She gestured to Liam and Lydia, and they followed her over to her car. Scott watched as they drove off toward the tunnels, and then he turned to Stiles. “Dude, look-”
“I’m sorry we lied to you,” Stiles interrupted. “We just didn’t know how to tell you. But,
Scott, you have to trust me when I say I never wanted anything to happen to your sister. I love her, dude. I didn’t even get the chance to tell her that either. But she told me. And…and I didn’t even get to say it back.”
“Stiles,” Scott said softly. “I trust you. I trust you more than anyone. I mean, I wish you would have told me. But I know you’d never let anything happen to her if you could help it. That gash on your head is proof. I trust you, dude. And we’re going to get my sister back.”
Stiles nodded and Scott clapped him on the back. “Let’s do it.”

“We’re gonna try this again, Y/n.”
You closed your eyes in exhaustion, but rough fingers digging into your chin caused them to flutter open. “I didn’t say we were finished here.”
“Really?” you mumbled. “Because I’m a little sick of looking at your face. Not very pleasant, y’know?”
The sharp crack of his palm across your face jarred you out of your stupor, and you glared at him. You fidgeted in the chair you were tied to, straightening up to look him in the eyes. His buddies were sitting against the wall playing cards, and here he was, beating the hell out of you.
It was true he wasn’t the most pleasant to look at, and he had a big ugly scar across his forehead. You had taken to calling him Scarface, because through your daze, it was kind of hard to keep all three men straight. You had learned they were hunters who were after your brother for some reason, but then again, who wasn’t?
“Someone tried to steal your brother’s power,” he continued. “How did they do it?”
“So many ways,” you whispered weakly. “None of them worked. I can’t help you.”
“How did they try?” Scarface demanded. “Think, Y/n.”
“Why does it matter?” you asked. “You’re not going to do it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he told you, yanking you back by your hair.
You swallowed, nearly retching on the coppery taste of the blood in your mouth. “I’m giving you one more chance, Y/n. Your brother is a threat to a lot of good people. People who stop the monsters.”
“That’s exactly what Scott does,” you protested. “And he might be a werewolf, but people like you? You’re the real monsters.”
Scarface chuckled at you, and reached into his jacket to pull out a pocketknife. He flicked it open and crouched in front of you. “You wanna find out just how right you are?”
Exhausted and not in the mood to watch yourself being tortured, you closed your eyes. You could hear him taunting you, but you were too tired to care what he had to say. All he wanted to do was torture you, so you simply tuned out…or at least you tried to.
At the sound of yelling, you opened your eyes to find that the two other hunters had abandoned the card game and were now fighting two snarling blurs of claws and fangs. Malia and Liam were fighting them tooth and nail, and your heart swelled at the fact that they were fighting for you.
Scarface raised the knife and whirled around to you, but before he could touch you, he was knocked off his feet by an ear-splitting scream.
Lydia grinned as he slammed into the wall, and then she hurried over from the doorway.
“Lydia?” you croaked. “How? How did you know where I was?”
“I heard you,” she told you with a smile. “Don’t worry, Scott and Stiles are close.”
“Stiles,” you whispered. “Is he okay?”
“He’ll be better once he knows you’re safe.”
Scarface jumped to his feet and snatched his knife from the dirty floor, but before he could take another step, a familiar, snarling shape was storming into the room. Your eyes widened as Scott crossed the space between them in about two seconds.
You were expecting some of kind of massive fight, a lot like the boss battles in Stiles’ video games or the ones you had encountered before. Instead, this fight lasted less than a minute, if you could even call it an actual fight.
Scott stepped forward and caught the man’s arm before he could stab him, and the sickening scream of pain you heard told you your brother had just snapped his arm. He slammed him into the cement wall with a thump, and then Scarface was back on the ground, out cold.
While all this was happening, Stiles had darted into the room and gone right for you. “Y/n!” he breathed, his voice breaking when he caught sight of the blood on your face.
“I’m okay,” you tried to tell him. “I-think I’m okay.”
“God,” he whispered, pulling out a pocketknife and handing it to Lydia.
The Banshee cut your bindings, and soon you were spilling forward and into Stiles arms. He held you against his chest and you buried your head in his shoulder as he ran a hand down your back.
“I’m so sorry,” he told you. “I let them take you.”
“You didn’t,” you said in his ear. “Stiles, you tried to save me. You’re always trying to save me.”
“Yeah, well you saved me,” he said softly. “I’d die without you.”
You scoffed and pulled away to look into his eyes. “You’d be fine.”
“No,” he argued. “I wouldn’t. Y/n, what you said last night…I wanted to say it too. I just didn’t have time.”
“Stiles, you don’t have to-”
“No,” he repeated. “I love you, Y/n McCall. I’ve loved you since we were kids. It just took me way too long to realize it.”
Your eyes widened, and you looked over at Scott, who had walked over. Instead of the predicted outrage on his face, he simply smiled and gave you an encouraging nod. You mouthed ‘Thank you’ and turned back to Stiles, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tight.
You sat there together on the dirty floor, wrapped in each other’s arms as Malia and Liam finally finished off the other two hunters. Everything was silent for a few brief moments, and before the chaos of reunion started, you took those few peaceful moments to lean in close and whisper in his ear.
“I love you too.”

i just want kakairu au ft mermaid!Iruka:

Him & Kohari are both merfolk. Ikkaku is in on the loop because its tough to hide it when your newborn baby’s legs shifts to a fish tail when you put him in a tub to bathe.

Whenever possible, either Kohari or Ikkaku would take Iruka to one of Konoha’s more secluded lakes, let him explore his body away from prying eyes.

When they could afford it, they’d take short vacations to the sea. Iruka relishes the wide open space. Loves the way his hair moves with the waves. Beams when his mom finds his hiding spot among the seaweed & tugs at his tail. Sometimes Ikkaku joins them, he can’t swim as far as they can but Iruka takes great joy in swimming circles around him in the shallows.

It all changes after the Ninetails and Iruka hasn’t been to the sea, a lake, a creek - hasn’t transformed since and throws himself into training & work to forget. Its easier to tell himself that the ache in his legs was from the long training sessions. 

Konoha is safe. Its landlocked, and any swimming spots are far & secluded enough that Iruka doesn’t have to pass by them in his everyday life. Hes safe - from temptation, from reminders of a time he can’t have back. And he is thankful.

Naruto leaving with Jiraiya triggers something between him and Kakashi. Coincidental meetings reminiscing over mutual students turns into occasional planned meetings for dinner, which gives way to weekly, near daily meetings over tea when Kakashi was in the village and soon, it was normal for him to be asking Kakashi how his day was or vice versa.

Hes still puzzled over how he ended up on this mission together with Kakashi, not that hes not enjoying the peace and company. But a Chuunin and a Jounin on a message delivery mission? Its excessive and he wonders if this was Tsunade-sama’s way of forcing them on a break, away from work.

The route they take passes by the sea and Iruka is nervous and tense all the way. If Kakashi notices, he doesn’t comment. Iruka only allows himself to relax & lets out a sigh of relief when they reach their destination. 

On the way back, Iruka steels himself and everything is fine until its not because the scent of the sea is so strong and its been so long, Iruka gasps as he feels his gills split open. Stumbles forward into Kakashi who catches him, looking panicked. 

He wants to tell Kakashi hes going to be fine, probably, but hes too busy trying to breathe. He feels himself sinking further as his legs morph, his tail flopping uselessly against the ground. The last thing he thinks is that he wished he had something to capture Kakashi’s dumbstruck expression so he could laugh at it when he wasn’t suffocating because of his gills.

When he comes to, its to Kakashi waist deep in the water, princess carrying him, making sure Iruka’s gills are submerged but his face is still above the water. Hes about to speak but Iruka cuts him off with a “don’t you dare make a dolphin joke,” & Kakashi snaps his mouth shut. 

Theres no dolphin jokes, but what he gets is Kakashi squeezing him slightly & a hesitant “We’re two days ahead of schedule so if you want to… you know…” 

He doesn’t know if its sun exposure or what causing the flush he can see peeking out from Kakashi’s mask, but something in him loosens & he finds that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to swim again, if Kakashi was around.

A little imagination is a good thing

Saw gifs of the season 4 originals promo and had this idea. 

Darkness and suffering.

His only two constant companions for the long stretch of years, the days that had inched by and yet bled together at the same time.

The darkness of his world and his mind, the physical and psychological suffering.

They never left him.

But sometimes they were interrupted.

“Camille,” Klaus gasps, pushing himself off the ground, his chains rattling on the floor and on his mind, “Camille!

I’m here.” Her voice, gentle and soothing reaches his ear and she is sitting behind him, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap. She is human and in good health, happy to listen to him as he wraps himself in self-pity and comfort.

He likes to hallucinate her, to let her voice filter through his mind like soft music, agreeing with him,

She was his only welcome visitor.

But there was another one who often made her presence known.

Seriously?!” A harsh voice cuts through the darkness, “You’re still down here?

Caroline Forbes storms across his prison cell, an invasion of light and life in his hell,

She glares down at him and kicks at his chains, causing them to scrape against the floor and tug on his raw wrists.

This is ridiculous, Klaus, you’re the Original hybrid, so stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out an escape!

“We’ve been over this!” he snaps at her, his temper being the one part of him left with any real strength, “There is no escape.”

She scoffs and looks over his shoulder, 

This is your fault,” she tells Camille, “If you didn’t coddle him and let him feel sorry for himself, he would have been out of here ages ago.”

She stomps her foot and paces the length of prison, examining the walls carefully and studying the iron hooks which hold his chains to the wall, 

Think,” she says, frowning thoughtfully, “There is always a way.

How many times had she said this to him? How many times had they discussed the length and strength of his chains? The infrequency of Marcel’s visits? How he could possibly break the spell keeping him in this prison?

He supposed it was his own fault. When the boredom had first set in, he’d entertained himself with memories of Caroline, then fantasies where they’d coupled in his very cell in various positions and levels of intimacy.

Except then she’d started turning up in nightclothes, like she wore now and his brain had stopped allowing her to be a distraction and turned her against him as a form of torment.

Now, the only words she ever had for him were condemnatory- demanding that he escape- or scornful- furious that he allowed himself to be held this way.

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asks, trying to distract her as she stretches out to study the area. “Tell me you’re seeing the world, travelling or living your life.”

Her back is still to him but he knows that she’s rolling her eyes and she crosses her arms, as she spins on her heel to face him.

Why aren’t you desiccated?” she demands, frowning in confusion,

It’s been years, why aren’t you motionless on the floor?

He raises his arm to run a hand through his thick, curly hair, 

“Marcel keeps me fed, not enough to gain my strength but enough to keep me conscious.”

But why?” she demands, her eyes lighting up as they did whenever she caught onto an idea,

You’re Klaus Mikaelson! Even chained up, you’re dangerous, so why not desiccate you?

There’s something scratching at the back of his mind, but Klaus fights it, too afraid to touch the idea, 

“Because from time to time, he comes to speak to me,” he answers, 

“And I think he likes to watch me suffer.”

Caroline shakes her head, “No, that can’t be it, because then he could just starve you until you were motionless but still able to talk, you’d be in even more pain. Why is he letting you move?

Klaus doesn’t immediately speak, he drops his eyes to his knees and chained hands, looking from his left to right, 

“He needs me fed.” he notes, raising his face as she crouches down in front of him,

And what happens if you desiccate?” she asks excitedly, 

To the point where you can only just move?

“The magic holding me here might think me dead and thus, release its hold on me,” He muses, a hint of the devil returning to his eyes and his lips as he raises his arms as high as they can go, 

“You might be a figment of my maddened imagination, love,” he tells her,

“But wish me luck anyway.”

He slams his hands down on the ground, breaking his wrists and fingers until he can pull them through the manacles holding him in place, his feet undergoing the same treatment.

With only a thrill of fear, he moves to the very edge of his prison, hesitating until Caroline comes to stand beside him, 

Hurry up.” she snaps and he nods, “Very well.”

He brings his wrist to his mouth and bites down, sinking his fangs into his flesh, tearing down to the elbow so as to increase the blood flow and reopening the wounds when his healing kicked in.

When his vision swims and spots dance before his eyes, he whispers a prayer, steps forward…

And falls to his knees.

Outside his prison cell.

The merest hint of a triumphant laugh brushes his lips as he starts crawling to freedom.

Caroline awoke with a ragged gasp, clenching the bed sheets under her.

She’s paralyzed again, unable to move and though this happened every time she woke up from that particular nightmare, she’s still terrified until she can twitch her toes and then shift her legs.

She recalls the nightmare, the Klaus of her imagination escaping his cell and wonders if- now that he was free- that she would go back to nights of dreamless sleep?

It had originally started out as sexual fantasies that had turned into that freaky imprisonment scenario that her self-help book told her was due to stressors that she was experiencing during the day, which made perfect sense.

One of those stressors being that she didn’t even know where Klaus was.

With a sigh of annoyance, she rolls over and punches the pillow, hoping she can fall back to sleep.

She does and is so tired that she sleeps past her alarm, so it’s nearly midday when she’s woken by the insistent knocking on her door.

If it’s Jehovah’s Witness, she’s going to live-feed today.

Growling and barely remembering to throw on her bathrobe, she stomps down the hall and pulls open the door, “Yes? What do you…oh.”

Klaus is standing on her front step, covered in dirt, dust, blood and most alarmingly, the same outfit he’d worn in every last one of her dreams.

He is swaying on his feet and looks exhausted, but he’s smiling as he sees the pink nightgown she’s wearing, “I always liked it when you wore that one.”

Mermaid Victor

Mermaid victor who falls in love with Yuuri, flouting all the merfolk rules when he basks on the rocks whenever he sees Yuuri alone on the shore, hoping that today is the day he’ll notice him.

One day, Victor is swimming about in the spot where he sometimes sees his favourite human, but instead of solemnly walking his dog, yuuri is having a party with some friends. They’re drinking and playing music, and yuuri has much less clothes on than usual, even swimming in the sea and playing ball games that victor aches to join in with.

The party dies down a little, and yuuri swims further out towards the place victor has been spying on him from. “Hey!” Yuuri calls towards Victor, startling him a little - he has to be more careful not to be seen! He swims away but soon realises Yuuri is out of his depth and struggling, and none of his friends on the shore seem to have noticed.

There’s nothing for it but to save him, haul him over to the rocks where Yuuri coughs a little but is mostly alright.

“You’re real,” Yuuri whispers, reaching out towards him and smiling when Victor leans in to his touch. He’s so warm, and better looking up close, even half drowned and tipsy.

His attention is drawn back to the beach where his friends have finally noticed his absence, and when he turns back, Victor is gone, back to the underwater palace where he will try to pretend he isn’t in love with a human.

The next morning, when victor swims up to the surface to spy on his human, there is a small rowboat by his usual rock. he pops out his head to see who would dare intrude on his spying spot to find that Yuuri is already there waiting for him… ✨

anonymous asked:

Summer Mccree scenarios?

- This boy is all about the sun, the beach and being in his swim trunks as well as getting to see you in your swim gear.

- Cold beers is a must, will bring a cooler to the beach and you’d have to make sure he didn’t get too drunk and go off and trip on kids sandcastles again or drown in the sea.

- If he’s not drinking with you on the beach you guys are at the local bars enjoying the gardens and the night life, he’ll play pool and try and woo you with his skills.

- WILL get pouty that he’s too big/old to go on the Donkey rides but he settles for petting them and telling you all about how good he is at riding horses though it has been years.

- Totally the type to have really loud block colour swim shorts, you can spot your boyfriend a mile away from the neon glow even in the sea.

- Will insist you need more sun tan lotion just so he can rub it on you, he’s a little see through with those plans but you don’t mind.

- Will still wear his hat, it goes pretty much everywhere with him, you are also confused and amazed he managed to find a beach towel or have one made that looks like his poncho.

- He would like walking with you at night along the beach, holding hands, maybe a cheeky makeout session under the pier.

- As much as he loves the beach he is all about garden parties, more booze, good company and he can show you off to all his friends proudly.

The Mermaid and the Pirate

Killian Jones x Reader Imagine

Summary: You’re a mermaid from the enchanted forest and one day a pirate is dropped in the water where you are swimming. You decide to save him, and are banished from your family onto land, because you are supposed to let humans die. Years later when you seek passage out of the enchanted forest, Hook recognizes you.  

10,138 words

Note: This is the first story I used with gifs. I used ones of Ariel and Hook because I felt those fit the story best- so just pretend Ariel is you because THIS IS a hook x reader story.

(y/f/n): Your friends name

“(Y/n) we really should be getting home. You’re mom’s gonna be pissed. We’re not supposed to even look at humans, let alone be this close to them,” (y/f/n) tells you. She was right, you really should be getting home, but you were swimming in your favorite spot, right near the docks, where you got to people watch. “Just 10 more minutes,” you shrug her off. Tonight you were watching a pirate with a hook for a hand. He’d been arguing for a while now with another pirate you recognized as Blackbeard. “You owe me a ship!” Blackbeard spits in his face. “And you cheated! Who plays with 6 aces?” the hooked pirate spits back at him. “Alright (y/n) you’ve watched the dashing pirate enough, now let’s go!” (Y/f/n) pulls you back in the direction of home. “Go ahead without me, I don’t care if I get in trouble,” you shrug her off for a second time. “Suit yourself,” (y/f/n) lets go of your hand and swims off in the opposite direction. “Alright enough of this, you owe me a ship. We played for the bean, and you lost, now pay the price,” Blackbeard says facing the pirate. “I will not give up the Jolly Roger till you give me the bean, the game is useless. You cheated,” the one handed pirate replies. From what you gathered, the pirate needed a way to another realm, and they played for the bean and the ship was what he gave up when he lost. “Well Captain Hook, you’re going to pay one way or another. So I guess you’re going to pick the other way,” Blackbeard states as he knocks the leather clad pirate out with the butt of his sword. You gasp from below the surface of the water. “Well now I definitely have to stay, he needs help,” you reason with yourself.

Originally posted by rosee1103

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