hide&seek clothing

anonymous asked:

Hey love! I think your blog is super awesome! If you don't have too much on your plate could you do the idol head canons where Victor and Yuri take their s/o on a shopping spree?

Even more of the international idol series! I love that there’s no limit to this series, and I really have fun writing these. I love being able to write our characters as rich and living the high life, because they all work so hard and deserve it :3 Thank you for the request, enjoy! <3 (((More posts from the international idol series can be read here))

[Viktor Nikiforov]

  • This man spoils you any chance he gets, so shopping sprees are something that happen pretty often
  • I hope you like designer clothes because that’s about 90% of your purchases omg just saying
  • Viktor loves the way you look in high end clothing, but it’s the smile and joyous expression on your face that really completes the outfit for him
  • He carries the bags for you all day, no matter what
  • even if you insist on carrying something he’ll scold you for thinking he isn’t capable of carrying your things like omfg what a gentleman
  • He L O V E S to pick out clothes for you and bring you to a dressing room to watch you try them all on, and he loves it even more when you pull him into the dressing room to have a little makeout session ;)
  • But what’s even more precious to him is when you pick out new clothing for him; his favorite things for you to pick out are sweaters and ties
  • when he comes out of the dressing room, swoon for him and i promise he’ll be putty in your hands lmao Mr. Extra™ back at it again
  • For days after a big shopping trip, he’ll randomly ask you to try on something you bought so he can remember what it looks like
  • “Remember that red number I bought for you the other day, (Y/N)?”
  • “Yes, Vitya. I remember. I was there.”
  • “Go try it on for me, love. I don’t remember how stunning you looked in it. Remind me, please?”
  • and of course he’ll take pictures of you and post them so he doesn’t ‘forget’ again aww
  • Shopping sprees are a fun way to unwind together, and it’s an even better way to put your earned wealth to good use

[Yuri Plisetsky]

  • The Russian Punk™ knows a thing or two about fashion, and picking out clothes for you is one of his favorite things to do
  • So, needless to say, he loves to take you out on shopping sprees all of the goddamn time
  • He brings you to those real fur clothing stores almost every trip, and every time you have to drag him out of there kicking and screaming; it’s just too expensive and probably not even worth it
  • You find safer stores that are still a bit high-end, but within a reasonable price range
  • He’s going to buy a fuckton of animal print clothing for you
  • did you expect anything less from the ice tiger of russia™? honestly lmao it’s yuri we’re talking about here
  • On more than one occasion, you two have played hide and seek within the clothing racks of stores
  • A game you like to play is to go into girl-oriented stores and bring Yuri into a dressing room to dress him and try to get the store employees to mistake him for a girl
  • Near the end of the day, Yuri gets a bit tired and decides to stop spending money in favor of buying smoothies and holding hands while you window shop
  • After your shopping trips, his favorite thing is to relax in the living room with his cats and have you model your purchases from the day
  • He loves it when you strut like a model around the living room like you’re in a fashion show; it’s so precious to him
  • Yuri usually takes photos and claps and whistles at you, which makes you smile that smile that he just loves so darn much
  • sometimes if you wink at him or pose seductively he’ll jump out of his seat and attack your mouth with his and just start a full on make out session; that’s usually why these fashion shows last hours lmao
  • Taking big shopping trips always makes for a good time, and Yuri just loves being able to spoil you every once in awhile
“Birthday Girl” - a Seventeen Scenario

author: Mod M

pairing: Vernon x reader

rating: K+

contains: fluff, romance, humor


“Should I ring the doorbell now? Would she be up? I don’t know if I should wake her up or not… I don’t want her mad on her birthday… but she’s so cute when she’s mad…”

It was bright and early on a very special day, your birthday in fact, and unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend Hansol was waiting outside your house, nervously mumbling to himself about if he should knock or wait a little longer to see if you were up. 

You were cozily snuggled in your blankets, peacefully dreaming of balloons and birthday cake, when the phone beside your bed rang and woke you from your slumber. The muffled sound of Hansol’s singing—your choice of ringtone—made you lift your head from your soft pillow and blindly reach over for your phone, the bright light filtering through the blinds on your window causing you to squint.

You brought the phone to your ear and mumbled, “’lo? who dis?”

“It’s Hansol! Happy Birthday! Oh man, did I wake you up? Ah, i’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t murder me.”

You chuckled and rubbed your eyes, feeling yourself slowly coming back to life by the power of his voice. “Nah, it’s okay.” You glanced at your bedroom clock. “But don’t you think 7:49 is a little early to be waking up the birthday girl?”

“Well I was going to ring the doorbell at 7:30 but—”

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘ring the doorbell’? Are you standing in front of my house?!”

“Um… yes?”

Leaping from your bed, you charged down the hall and threw open your front door to indeed find Hansol himself standing on your porch, holding his phone one hand and a plastic bag in the other, looking at you in surprise. You could tell he had put extra time into his appearence this morning, judging by his flannel shirt, the one you always said was your favorite, and his gelled hair. You smiled, knowing he wanted to look nice for your birthday.

His surprise turned to a flustered sort of confusion, a blush creeping up his neck, and he focused his eyes on the floor. “Um, babe? Where are your… pants?”

You blinked at him. “Huh?” Glancing down, you suddenly understood his embarrassment. In your haste, you had neglected to properly clothe yourself and thus were standing in front of him in nothing but a large t-shirt (his, in fact, because you had a habit of stealing his clothes) and your panties.

Your own cheeks pinkened and you awkwardly pulled at the shirt’s hem, trying to cover as much as you could. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t realize… um, why don’t you come inside and I’ll get dressed?”

He shuffled in after you, trying to keep his eyes off your bare legs, but you noticed (with some satisfaction) him sneaking a few quick glances. As you returned to your room and found a pair of jeans to wiggle into, you heard him bumbling about the kitchen, muttering to himself about how you should show off your legs more often. When you returned to him, you found your kitchen table set and a plate of french toast on the table. 

He sat in the other chair, leaning back with his fingers laced behind his head, looking pretty pleased with himself.

You laughed and shook your head, taking your seat. “French toast, huh?”

He grinned. “I picked up some from a diner on the way over. It’s not as good as my mom’s, but it’s still pretty awesome. My girl needs to start the best day of her life off right.”

You raised an eyebrow. “The best day of my life, huh? Those are some pretty high hopes, Hansol.”

“You just wait. It’ll be the best day of your life.”

Taking a bite of your french toast, the sweet taste of powdered sugar and maple syrup hitting our tongue, you smiled and let yourself enjoy the moment. Hansol watched you, resting his check against his hands, his elbows propped against the table, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile when you blushed under his gaze.

After you had finished your breakfast, you began to stand, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap. You squeaked in surprise, taken aback by his forwardness. He smirked and licked his thumb, bringing it up to your face to wipe away a smudge of sugar on the edge of your lip.

“You got a lil something on your face,” he murmured in your ear.

“Agh, cheesy much?” you pushed him away, trying to fight the grin threatening to split your face in two. He laughed and ruffled your hair, standing up and forcing you to stand as well.

“So are you ready to go?”

Your grin froze. “Go where?”

“To do whatever you want, of course. I had a lil something special planned for tonight, but otherwise it’s up to you.”

Your eyes bugged. “I can’t go now! I literally woke up ten minutes ago! I’m basically in my pajamas, my hair is a mess, I need to shower, and I’m not even wearing shoes.”

He blinked at you. “But you look cute.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I don’t think the rest of the city will agree with you. Just give me fifteen minutes, okay?”

He shrugged, leaving you to scramble to get yourself together. Your first priority was a shower, to wash the smell of bedhead and sweat out of your hair and freshen up a bit. The warm water helped get your blood moving and your skin tingling, and you were out and drying off in a matter of minutes. You wandered into your bedroom, a towel wrapped around you and water droplets dripping from the ends of your hair, mentally selecting your outfit for the day, when you stopped short, seeing Hansol casually lounging on your bed, looking at his phone.

“Hansol! Get out!” You yelled, clutching the towel tighter around your chest. 

“Huh?” He looked up in bewilderment, his eyes widening when he saw your lack of clothes. “Ahhhh sorry sorry!” He slapped a hand over his eyes and rushed out of your room, his cheeks aflame. When he left and the door was securely shut, your agitation turned to amusement.

Wow, two sneak peeks and it’s barely 8 AM. Who’s really having the best day ever? You chuckled to yourself as you pulled on your clothes and combed out your hair. After a quick dab of lip balm (vanilla flavored, Hansol’s favorite) and some winged eyeliner because you were feeling fierce, you immerged from your room, ready to go.

Hansol stood waiting outside, looking sheepish. “Sorry about that, babe.”

You smacked him playfully on the shoulder and made way for the door. “Don’t act so apologetic. You know you liked it.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I can’t help it that my baby looks amazing and I’m just admiring the view.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Are we going to go or not?”

He opened the front door and motioned for you to take the lead. “After you.”


“I think I want Chocolate Swirl or Cotton Candy but I’m not sure.”

“Why don’t you get both? You’re not the one paying.”

“Because maybe ONE of us is trying to watch our weight.”

“But you are perfect just the way you are!”

“Even if I put on 100 pounds?”

“…well i want you to be healthy.”

You laughed and returned to pressing your nose against the glass over the tubs of ice-cream, unable to decide. Your day so far had been lovely. You had gone to the mall and spent hours running around, trying on whatever struck your fancy (Hansol couldn’t afford much but he insisted on buying you a cute red bandana that matched his) and playing hide and seek in the clothing racks. You then went to the local park and had wandered around admiring the duck ponds and blossoms in bloom, holding hands and having him serenade you, making up silly raps about how you were more beautiful than any flower and cuter than any duck.

When you walked past an icecream shop, you had tugged at him, begging for a sweet treat before dinner, and he gave in. The cool air kissed your skin when you walked inside and the delectable scent of dairy confections made your mouth water. 

After finally opting for a fudge sundae with extra whipped cream and a cherry on top, you and Hansol strolled down the sidewalk, the sizzling afternoon sunshine filling you with a pleasant warmth and making the tip of your vanilla icecream get drippy. 

You dipped your spoon into the heavenly treat and took a bite, letting out a sigh of bliss. “This has got to be the best ice-cream sundae I’ve ever had.” You popped the cherry in your mouth, twirling the stem around with your tongue, trying to tie it in a knot but failing.

Hansol’s lips curled in a mischievous smirk. “Can I have a taste?”

You waved your spoon at him. “Fine, just a little nibble, but only because you paid for it–”

The words died in your mouth when he tipped your chin up to press his lips to your own. For a moment, you were frozen in shock, but like the icecream in your hand, you melted under his touch, your eyelids fluttering close and your hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. His tongue ran along your bottom lip, and before you knew it, the cherry stem in your mouth was gone. 

When you broke apart, his eyes were twinkling. “You’re right, that tasted great.” Then he stuck his tongue out, revealing the stem tied in a perfect knot.

You punched his shoulder. “Hey! That’s not fair.”

“What, that I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue? You know what they say…”

“You’re being particularly cheeky today, Hansol.”

He winked. “You know you love it.”

Of course you did. But you would never say that. You stayed silent, opting for another bite of your icecream. 

A few hours later, you found yourself back at your house, sprawled out on your couch with one hand intertwined with Hansol’s and the tv remote in the other. Your head rested against Hansol’s chest, and he dangled a slice of pizza over your open mouth, feeding it to you. Some korean drama was playing on the tv, but you were too busy focusing on the gooey cheese above your lips to watch it.

“The pizza is amazing,” you said with your mouth full, closing your eyes and tasting heaven.

“We need to go to that pizza place on our next date.”

“Ooh, already planning more dates? I don’t know, I can only take so much of you.”

He made a face of mock offense. “Hey, dating me should be a privilege.”

“Just like kidney function?”

He cringed. “I thought we swore to never speak of that again.”

You squeezed his hand. “Sorry, it just slipped out. But you were so cute as a kid.”

He frowned and took a bite of the pizza he was feeding you, much to your disappointment. “Hey! I wasn’t finished with that!”

He dangled it slightly higher above your head, making you crain your neck trying to get a bite. “Mm, if you want it, you’ll just have to get it yourself.”

You shifted in your seat, reaching out and trying to snatch it from him, to no avail. Determined to get your pizza, you pushed Hansol into the couch, straddling him and bringing your face incredibly close to your own. You could see him gulp, his thoughts no longer on pizza. “Uh, b-babe?”

You smirked. Before he could blink, you grabbed the pizza slice out of his hand and stuffed it in your mouth in triumph. “Haha!” You swallowed and stuck your tongue out at him, to prove you had won.

But he didn’t care. He grabbed your hips and pulled you forward, bringing his lips to your own. His kiss was hungry and passionate, leaving you breathless and seeing stars. When you broke apart, your eyes searching his, he smiled. “That was better than pizza.”

You turned around to hide your blush, snuggling into his lap to watch the tv screen. He was such a cheese ball.

After a few minutes of silence, him stroking your hair and your fingers laced with his own, he whispered in your ear, “Well? Was today the best day of your life?” His eyes sparkled, waiting expectantly to hear your response. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and thought for a moment. You felt so at peace and happy. it had truly been a wonderful day. “Today was amazing and perfect and I couldn’t ask for a better birthday, but… it wasn’t the best day of my life.”

His face fell. “Oh… okay. What was the best day of your life then?”

You smiled and pressed your lips to his cheek. “Meeting you.”

His cheeks turned red and he hugged you close. “I love you too, birthday girl.”


For my a special friend of mine’s birthday ;) did you like it? i’m sorry i couldn’t shower you in presents that you so rightly deserve. 

~Mod M

Things Blurryface Songs Remind Me Of
  • Heavydirtysoul: walking on a mountain, fast moving cars, dull glitter, a rabbit hole, someone walking alone in a crowd, a handwritten note.
  • Stressed out: walking down the street of a ghost town, a forest a sunset. Blair Witch, red pen, looking at childhood photos, simple drawings of red rockets.
  • Ride: the glare of the sun, daydreaming at night, family gatherings, nervous laughter, falling in slow motion, the sensation of flying, shaky writing.
  • Fairly Local: the feeling of anticipation, thunderstorms, wind rushing through buildings in the city, a tiny raft in the ocean, doc martens, dark alleys, mascara running after tears.
  • Tear In My Heart: sunshine after rain, umbrellas, holding hands, surprise parties, late night thoughts, flower petals, sly grins, the Grand Canyon.
  • Lane Boy: wind chimes, traffic, mysterious strangers, strobe lights, poison, standing in front of your loved one, cloudy skies, skid marks, California.
  • The Judge: sighing, your grandparent's house, a record player, ice, French doors, a light outside the door, mossy paths, court cases, leaves in the wind.
  • Doubt: old video game characters, making an impression, snowstorms, shadows on a sidewalk, delicate tattoos, warm hugs, kimonos.
  • Polarize: a pale orange colour, late night parties, the school dark room, the taste of gingerbread, Star Trek, scraped knees, old books.
  • We Don't Believe What's on TV: the road to a cemetery, static, brightly coloured church windows, flowers in hair, the smell of grass after rain, alternate universes, a helping hand, an acoustic guitar, auburn hair, wearing multiple necklaces.
  • Message Man: applause at a show, masks, walking on creaky floorboards, false friendship, muttered answers, shooting stars, a single beam of sunlight, echoed music.
  • Hometown: arrows,ghosts, fog covering a town, Christmas wreaths, sirens, awkward silences at dinner tables, dusty photo albums.
  • Not Today: running, dusty roads, amnesia, hide and seek, lace table cloths, the ocean, shouting, festivals.
  • Goner: a distant figure, hopeless love, a sinking ship, cold shivers, a pale silver moon, forgotten lovers, a cold hand, 3am discussions, an empty street, a deep breath.