Riverdale Preference: Little Things You Do That They Love
Archie: when you get super flustered and over whelmed you sometimes start to stutter. You think it’s embarrassing but Archie think’s it’s the cutest thing in the world
Betty: Betty finds it so adorable when you get really excited. Why? Because you turn into a complete child and start jumping up and down. Betty always laughs when she sees this hyper side of you
Cheryl: randomly in class you’ll start biting your lip and Cheryl can’t help but bite her own whenever she sees you do it. It just drives her crazy
Josie: Josie loves it whenever you start to hum. You do it a lot, mostly when you’re working on a assignment, project, or of course a new song. Josie always finds herself bobbing her head to your little tune
Jughead: Jughead’s started to notice that whenever you’re really focused or in the zone you start to furrow your eyebrows in concentration. He doesn’t know why he enjoys seeing you like that so much but he has to smile whenever it happens
Reggie: when you get flustered you start to play with your hair. For example there’s this little strand of hair that you move behind your ear when you get nervous. It’s Reggie’s favourite thing, especially when he’s the reason you’re so flustered
Veronica: sometimes you do this thing with your nose where you wiggle it, kind of like a rabbit would. Veronica giggles every time you do it and you always ask her what’s so funny but she’ll never tell you
“Why not a tootsie roll?” You asked to which Dash shook his head.
“All the other dogs would make fun of her.” He said with a straight face. You giggled and picked Pawla up.
“She looks exactly like a tootsie roll - watch it with the kisses, Pawla!” You laughed yet again at her kissing you in your face.
“Don’t make fun of her. She would be a perfect cowgirl.”
“Let’s let Pawla decide.” You put her down and asked her, “Tootsie roll or cowgirl?” She titled her head to the side before licking your face. You smirked at Dash and he shook his head. Later, he’d find out how adorable she looked like as a tootsie roll. <3
Do y’all remember how adorable Melissa Benoist was when she was doing that puppy challenge for MTV, could you imagine if they got Katie McGrath to do it. It would be the best video that we would ever see because you know she would try to take like 4 puppies with her as she left.
This was her at just hearing the word “dog”
I can’t stop thinking about how excited and happy she would be to get to play with a bunch of puppies.
Things I love about this:
•Momo in a food coma
•Zuko is scared of Bosco
•Pakku waterbending his tea
•Kanna staring at him
•Aang and Katara being adorable
•Kuei hugging Bosco
•Toph looks like she’s laughing at the fact that the Fire Lord is scared of bears
•Malina’s not dead
In light of the events of the latest episode, which I’m choosing to ignore, I thought I’d make a list of a few random Clexa facts about their life after Lexa survives the bullet, which is canon of course. So…
Clarke loves watching Lexa interact with the Nightbloods. Whether she is training them or teaching them or just listening to them, Clarke loves this side of Lexa, supportive and encouraging and never patronizing or aggressive, not even during the toughest training sessions. She often finds herself wondering if Lexa acts like this with them because she never experienced this type of support and kindness during her upbringing.
Lexa could spend hours watching Clarke draw. Eyebrows creased in concentration, tip of her tongue between her teeth, blue eyes shining with a particularly bright spark, she is both the cutest and most fascinating creature Lexa has ever laid eyes on.
Lexa is a lightweight. As Heda, even during special occasions or celebrations, she’s been taught that she must always keep her head clear. She almost never indulges in drinking and has never developed a tolerance for it. So when on a freezing winter day Clarke steals a bottle of wine and decides she and Lexa are spending the day in their room, eating and drinking and just relaxing, she finds out that it doesn’t take long for the Commander to get drunk. All flushed cheeks and bubbly laughs and surprisingly inclined to cuddle, she’s never been more adorable. Okay, maybe only when she’s hungover and she’s trying to look like she isn’t.
Clarke can’t use a sword for the life of her. She’s just terrible with it. But her aim is good, and she finds she is pretty good with a bow and arrow. After some time spent perfecting her skills, Lexa tells her even Anya would be impressed.
Lexa trains hard and often to keep her body strong and her reflexes sharp. First time Clarke stops by to watch her train, she finds herself completely enthralled by it. The elegance and fluidity of Lexa’s movements, the toned muscles rippling under the skin… it’s safe to say Clarke discovers a new turn-on. From that day on, whenever Lexa comes back from training, Clarke jumps on her and ravages her.
Clarke loves tracing Lexa’s tattoos and scars (yes she has scars) and asks the story behind each of them. Some reveal funny stories of a stubborn young Lexa climbing on a far-too-high tree just to impress Costia, and miserably falling from it. “Her laugh was worth the pain, though.” Others reveal sorrow of a young girl forced to fight and kill the kids she’d grown up with and considered brothers and sisters. Lexa doesn’t cry when she talks about her Conclave. Clarke wonders if it’s because she already spilled all the tears she had for them years ago.
Costia is a different story. Even if not an open wound anymore, even if Clarke knows Lexa loves her, she also knows the pain over Costia’s death will always be a part of Lexa. But she doesn’t want that to obscure any other memory of someone that was so important to Lexa. So, Clarke asks her stories about Costia. She makes Lexa talk about her, what she was like, how they met, the way her laughter sounded. She does her best to cleanse Costia’s memory for Lexa, so she can think about her and remember something other than pain and sadness.
Lexa doesn’t remember her parents. When she describes her family, she talks about Anya and Gustus.
Clarke cries when she talks about her father. Lexa holds her.
They both have an obsession for each other’s hands. Clarke loves how lithe and elegant Lexa’s look: how strong they are when she is gripping a sword or handling a weapon, and how delicate and gentle when she is caressing Clarke’s body. Lexa is in awe of how skilled Clarke’s are: how they turn simple lines of charcoal on paper into masterpieces and how they’re capable of healing people and literally bring life. Oh, Lexa loves kissing them a lot.
Sometimes they have to separate. Clarke goes back to Arkadia for a while or Lexa has to visit other Clans. They crave each other the whole time. When they’re back together, sex is always a little more desperate and passionate than usual.
One time a group of rebel dissidents kidnaps Clarke on her way back to Polis to use her as leverage against Lexa. It takes less than three days for Lexa to find her and rescue her. Bloodied and bruised, but alive. Lexa rushes her back to Arkadia so that Abby can heal her. Clarke has never seen Lexa cry like the moment she wakes up, but she is not surprised. She knows this is Lexa’s worst nightmare, she knows she can’t bear to lose her like she lost Costia. She knows, because she felt the same when a bullet meant for her almost killed Lexa.
They sleep wrapped around each other. Clarke rests her head on Lexa’s chest, finding comfort in the steady sound of her heartbeat, and Lexa holds her close with an arm.
Requested: Can I request a Jeff Atkins imagine about morning after with him. And like Jeff would be so cute whispering sweet nothings in his gfs ear while also saying some dirty jokes lolol omg I CANT
The human body contains an innumerable amount of nerve cells. The best we can do is estimate that there are some billion. It is incredible how there are billions of nerve cells working in our bodies and something as simple as the touch of one person can send all of those imperceptible cells into a fervor.
It’s 9:05 on a Sunday morning. The window is slightly cracked, letting the fresh autumn air circulate in. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically with shallow breaths as she pretends to still be sleeping. Small circles are being drawn on her back, clockwise, then counter clockwise. Then it switches to a word, or rather, a name. Jeff.
His fingers drag across her skin gently. First he writes it how you would normally write your name. Then in cursive, in all caps, capitalizing every other letter, looping letters, block letters.
“Are you marking me?” she mumbles tiredly. She can feel him laughing as he wraps his arms around her midsection, pulling her flush against his chest. He kisses the top of her head, nuzzling his face into her hair where traces of his cologne are trapped within the tresses. He’s everywhere. In her hair, on her skin, and where he doesn’t leave a physical presence he takes up residence in the place where her mind wanders.
“In more ways than one,” a smug tone drips off his tongue as he brings his one hand up to grasp her throat loosely, his thumb rubbing one of many dark purple splotches.
“Jeffff,” she whines, scrunching her neck up. Those are gonna be a bitch to cover up, but he loves them. He loves the way they whisper I was here. I will be here for as long as you want me. I love you. I love you.
“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” he whispers into her ear, letting his lips linger. A shiver works its way down her back involuntarily. It’s almost annoying- how easily he gets to her. Just the sound of his voice is enough to set her skin on fire.
“You’re awful,” she tries to sound stern, but there’s a teasing tone in her voice that gives her away. It’s hard to be annoyed when images of the previous night and all the nights before that flood her mind.
“Yeah?” he questions, an impish inflection shaping his voice, “tell me, which part was less than satisfactory?”
He cups the bottom of her jaw with his palm and pushes upward gently, stretching her neck without causing pain. The bed jostles as his weight shifts to lean over her, his lips ghosting over the thin skin of her neck. It starts with soft pecks that progress to biting and sucking until the unblemished skin becomes a dark shade of red and purple. “Was it this?” he asks against her skin.
His hands grip her bare thighs, wrapping them around his waist. His fingers drag down from the top of her thighs down to the bend of her knees and then back up. Instinctively, her arms lock around his neck, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “Was it this?” he asks against her lips.
“Oh hush. You’re perfect and you know it,” her voice is breathy as she tries to swallow her own desire. He is perfect, in every sense of the word. He has the kindest heart she has ever known.
“Perfect enough to make you happy?” he says earnestly. He lifts his head to be able to see her face clearly and wholly. Her cheeks have developed a pink tint and her eyes are soft and dreamlike, like she’s looking at the gates of heaven.
“Perfect or imperfect, I am happy,” she grabs his face between her hands delicately, “I’m happy and I love you.”
“Say it again,” he begs as his eyes flutter shut.
“I love you, Jeff Atkins.”
And then he’s kissing her. His lips are familiar but the feeling of them on hers makes her heart race like it’s the first time all over again. His body presses down against hers and she can feel every bump of hard muscle under soft skin. The distance between them is virtually nonexistent. Her heart hangs suspended in the space where she ends and he begins.
“You know,” she says in-between kisses, “this is why the morning after always turns into round two.”
“Sorry babe, I’ll work on keeping my hands to myself,” he laughs, burying his face into her neck.
“That was not a complaint, you keep your hands right where they are,” she returns his laugh whilst running her fingers through his hair.
“Yes ma’am,” he kisses her jaw, “I love you. I adore you with all my heart.”
“That makes me pretty lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he assures, “but speaking of being ‘lucky’, how ‘bout that round two?”
“You’re relentless,” she giggles pleasantly, pulling him closer.
“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll stop.”
“Well that would make me a liar,” this time she kisses him, initiating an evocative situation. He responds immediately, his hands tangling in the thin lacy fabric covering her bottom half.
To be adored by a person with such a pure heart is to be loved absolutely. Few ever meet a person like that, but when they do it is significant. It marks a before and after in their life, and how lucky they are to have been loved by a person who knows what it means to love without limit. How lucky they are to have something just like this.
"Go on, I dare you" for the prompt thingy, WinterIron, (no angst pls)
“Go on,” Tony said, schooling his face into a straight expression. “I dare you.”
Like it was something they had practiced, Bucky and Clint looked at the door, looked at each other, looked at the door, looked at Tony, and then shook their heads.
“No way,” Clint said. “The last time I woke Natasha up, she stabbed me.”
Bucky nodded. “Doll, I love you, but that is one mountain I am not willing to climb.”
“Wimps,” Tony said.
“Did you not hear the part about stabbing?” Clint yanked up his shirt and pointed to the small scar on his ribs. “With a knife!”
Tony gave him a bored look. “That is typically how you stab someone, yes.” He took a step towards the door. Bucky immediately grabbed his arm.
“Tony, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged.
“Bucky bear, light of my life, I am literally just going to ask Natasha if she accidentally took the remote to bed with her last night,” Tony said. He did his damndest not to laugh. Bucky’s panicked expression was adorable.
“It’ll be fine.” Tony patted Bucky’s cheek. “I promise.”
Like the dramatic dumbass he was, Bucky jerked him into a hug and a long, deep kiss, like it was the last time they were going to see each other. “I love you. Godspeed.”
“Seriously. Wimps,” Tony said, squirming out of the hold.
“WITH A KNIFE!” Clint whisper-screamed; he couldn’t yell too loud for fear of waking Natasha up.
Tony rolled his eyes and opened the door. He was familiar enough with Natasha’s bedroom that he didn’t bang into anything as he made his way over to the bed. All he could see was a mountain of blankets. He assumed Natasha was somewhere inside.
“Tasha?” he asked softly. “Do you have the remote?”
There was a moment of silence. Then the mountain moved. A small hand appeared holding the remote. Tony smiled and took it.
“Thanks. Cupcakes later?”
The hand made a thumbs up.
“Cool. Sleep well.” He tiptoed out of the room and closed the door, then brandished the remote like a trophy.