to write love on her arms shirt

NCT 127 reaction to you putting your hands under their shirt as a habit


Anon: nct 127 reaction when you like putting your cold hands under their shirt?

Anon: Hello, nct 127+johnny reaction request, umm their gf always puts her hands under their shirt or up their sleeves to feel their skin as a habit 😇 thank you in advance

OMG I loved writing this skjdabhbd hkkdbfhishb I feel like I’d be the type of girlfriend to do this tbh awe obviously i wouldnt know because im -78 years old and just a feotus


Originally posted by taeiljaeh

can we pls talk more about taeil’s arms and visuals????

Taeil is a pretty mature and sensible guy so wouldn’t be too fazed or bothered by this bait of yours. He’d like the fact that this was a habit of yours that you only did with him; it’d make him feel very loved and needed and in moments like these, he realised how much he loved you. “Y/N, you know how much you mean to me - please don’t leave me”, he’d whisper into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders warmly.


Originally posted by nctinfo

I can imagine Johnny being a very physically warm person and your cold fingertips would startle him at first. He’d soon relax into your touch and bring you closer to him, a wide smile playing on his face. This habit would quickly become a shared one, where Johnny would also place his hands under your shirt and rub your back or trace circle on your waist. Without even realising, sometimes you’d find each other’s hands rubbing each other’s bare skin innocently and subconsciously; it’d be one of your ways of showing affection.


Originally posted by nctmark

Taeyong was probably the first one who started doing this as a habit, and then you quickly catches up on it. Having his hands on your bare skin gave him a sense of belonging and possessiveness, knowing that no one else could do this with you too. You knew he was mad if he didn’t, at point during the day, put his hands on your bare waist or tummy or back. You started doing the same without realising, Taeyong pointing it out - and teasing you about it - after you had done it a couple of times.


Originally posted by sour-satang

When you first started having this habit, he’d always think you were trying to imitate something like you wanted sex. You’d have to push him away and say that you were just innocently putting your hands on his chest because it calmed you down, and his heart would flutter whenever you did it. He definitely wouldn’t be one to complain and stop you from doing this, no matter where he was or who was around.


Originally posted by nakamotens

Doyoung would find this habit of yours very comforting. He’d lean his head on you shoulder and enjoy your touch, sighing contently. He’d be embarrassed if you did it in front of the other members, more worried that you wouldn’t be able to put up with their teasing and so would stop doing it, rather than whether he got teased or not. Further into the relationship, this fear of his would slip and he wouldn’t care if you did it in front of them or not. In fact, he’d probably do it to you too - like some other members, it would become a shared habit.


Originally posted by tybeoji

Jaehyun is probably such a romantic and this act of affection would melt his heart and he’d turn so sappy. Gently grabbing one of your hands that rested on his skin, he moved it up so both your hands were resting over this heart. You’d be able to feel his heart racing at the skin contact and would smile fondly at the boy staring lovingly down at you. “Gosh, Y/N, look at what you’re doing to me. My heart beats for you" fuck that was cringey to type im gonna be sick He’d love having the opportunity to say something cheesy and lovey-dovey.


Originally posted by ouchwinwin

As well as this being one of your habits, you’d always do it whenever WinWin was stressed or upset himself. Just for a while, it would take him mind off things and calm him down. He’d hum in happiness, and bury his face in your neck, pressing some kisses to your neck as a thanks, a gesture which would make your heart flutter since he wasn’t usually this affectionate and confident. WinWin would always go to you for this and would like the way your hands felt on his skin.


Originally posted by neotechs

Mark, being the sympathetic and observant person he is, would notice how you only did this whenever you were stressed or upset. He wouldn’t say anything, letting you run your hands across his chest slowly and burying your face in his neck. Tracing circle on your back, he’d wait a while for you to calm down before attempting to continue soothing you through his words. He’d reassure you that everything would be okay and would be attentive to you and your feelings.


Originally posted by haenyan

I can imagine Haechan being a ticklish person so it would take a lot of turns before he could last just a minute with your hands his bare skin. He’d always get so shy and fluffy whenever you did it, feeling quite mature and loved up whenever you did it. A lot of the members would secretly hate his habit of yours, because Haechan would always gush about you afterwards and wouldn’t shut up for days. But Haechan wouldn’t care; he loved this habit of yours and wouldn’t change it for the world.

Just Couldn’t Let This One Go

A birthday fic for @the-captains-ayebrows. Happy Birthday dear Hollie! @lenfaz and I coordinated on this gift, so she’s going to be writing a second part. Double the pleasure, double the fun! This part’s a bit saucy, just the way you like it. Super special thanks to @seethelovelyintheworld for looking this over for me!

Summary: Emma Swan is all set to snag her perp and collect her fee, but something about Killian Jones makes him just too irresistible to turn in.

Rated: M for Most Definitely Smutty

Words: 9,000

Part One

Emma slid onto a barstool at The Davenport, conscious of the way her dress clung tightly to her legs as she parted them to take her seat. A quick glance to the other end of the bar told her she was just in time. Her mark was there, and he was alone.

Gotcha buddy. Now it was just a matter of time.

Emma smiled at Graham behind the bar, who acknowledged her presence with a nod and a look that said, “Give me a minute, Swan,” as he greeted some customers in front of him. While Emma waited for him to make their drinks she pretended to fiddle with her phone, casually making a more thorough perusal of her skip.

He looked broody, dressed all in black and bent over a glass of some kind of dark liquor, his hand clutching the back of his neck. And what a neck it was, her eyes noting the hollow of his throat and following up the defined tendons to admire the cut of his jaw, nicely peppered with scruff. His hair was black as night and looked touchably soft, even from a distance, perfectly disheveled and just a tad too long. As he dropped his hand and raised his head, the air became charged with that unnameable tension that seems to float through the air when someone can feel another person’s eyes on them. Emma knew she should look away, but she couldn’t, too curious to see what his eyes looked like.

Damn, they were blue. Shadowy, as if he carried secrets there, but framed perfectly by thick eyebrows, one of which he raised in her direction, a small smirk quirking up the corner of his too-red lips in a very knowing way when he noticed her staring.

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Happy Birthday Yuri!!

I had written a long thing for Yuri last night but Tumblr kindly deleted it so… a shorter version :-)

Yuri stepped out of the car and stared at the ice rink in front of him. It had been a long time since he had been here, not really having much time to go with Nikolai, their two year old son, and his modelling career. Plus there was the fact that their seven year old daughter, Ekaterina but they called her Katya for short, was terrified of the ice after an incident when she was three.

She slipped and fell really hard that day, even though Yuri and Otabek had a tight grip on her hands. When she had tried getting up she somehow sliced her hand open and, well, that sort of thing sticks with you when you’re three.

But now the entire Altin family was in front of Yuri’s old home rink and he looked over at his husband, confused.

“Are we skating?” He asked, blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

A small smile twitched on Otabek’s lips and he took hold of Katya’s hand as she hopped excitedly out of the car.

“You’ll see.” Was all the dark haired man said and marched forward with Katya in tow, both of her hands clenched around Otabek’s. There was a spring in her step and her long, curly waves of hair bounced with her.

“Beka.” Yuri whined and hoisted Nikolai on to his hip before rushing after him. The two year old was getting heavy, too heavy to pick up but Yuri would revel in the fact that his son was small for as long as he could.

“Yura.” Otabek teased and Yuri just narrowed green eyes at him, hip-checking him when he got close enough. Otabek let out a hearty laugh and opened the door to usher everybody inside.

“Daddy you have to wait out her with Nikolai!” Katya announced as she skipped towards the doors that led to the actual ice. Otabek followed. Yuri pouted.


“It’s a surprise!” She threw her hands up and then disappeared behind the doors.

“Otabek-” But Otabek just winked at him before following their daughter. Usually, Yuri wasn’t one to obey but his daughter’s wrath was a lot scarier than Yakov’s had ever been so he plopped down on one of the benches with Nikolai in his lap. 

“At least you’re still nice to me.” He said and tickled Nikolai’s tummy.

Nikolai laughed, one of the purest sounds Yuri had ever heard and leaned back to look at him. His eyes were almost identical to Otabek’s, with a few specks of green here and there that came from Yuri. He was all smiles, which Yuri had no idea where that came from. He still couldn’t talk much yet, but he could say Daddy, Papa and Katya (more like “Kaya”) and that’s all that mattered.

Yuri couldn’t help but smile back and kiss his forehead, pushing his mop of dirty blonde hair from his eyes. Yuri hated the fact that his hair was going to get darker as he grew older and he fully blamed Otabek.

Yuri waited a few more moment and just as he was getting impatient, he got a text from Otabek saying he could come in.

“Thank God.” Yuri mumbled and stood up, placing Nikolai on the ground so he could walk. Yuri kept a tight grip on him, knowing he would run if he got the chance.

When Yuri entered the rink he immediately stopped, seeing Katya in the middle of the ice, holding tightly to Otabek’s hands. Otabek was smiling down fondly at her, as he always looked at his children like this. 

“Otabek, what…?” Yuri came closer to the edge and sat Nikolai on the ridge, small legs dangling over the ice.

“Surprise, daddy!” Katya said. Yuri could hear the tremble in her voice and knew she was being brave to him. It brought tears to his eyes, honestly.

“We made this for you.” Otabek told him with a soft smile that was alway there, creasing his brown and the lines besides his lips. He pressed play on the remote and an original song blared form the speakers. Otabek and Katya began to move. It may have been a little bit stiff and awkward on Katya’s part but she looked beautiful none the less.

Yuri held one arm tight around Nikolai while his other hand covered his lips, watching them do wide figure eights out on the ice. They went slow to make sure Katya didn’t fall and hurt herself again. But she had a shaky smile on her lips and she was doing amazingly despite this being her second time on the ice.

Otabek watched him lift her effortlessly, her forty-five pounds seemingly nothing to him. Katya’s squeal of delight echoed through the rink and Yuri couldn’t help but laugh with her. The song was only about a minute long but it felt like forever. Yuri was overwhelmed with emotions as he watched father and daughter skate together, something he had only dreamed about since Katya’s accident.

Then it was over and Katya was eager to get off the ice. Otabek skated her over to the rubber part and she immediately plopped down, tugging off the skates and being sure to not tocuh the blade. Then she jumped up and clung to Yuri.

“Happy birthday daddy!” She smiled at him, one front tooth gone, the other halfway grown in. Yuri was ugly crying but he didn’t care, kneeling down to hug his daughter tight.

“Thank you, thank you.” He sniffed and kissed her forehead before standing up, wrapping his arms tight around Otabek, who was still standing in his skates.

“Did you write that?” Yuri asked.

Otabek smiled softly. “Why do you think I’ve been staying late at the school every day?”

“You told me you were giving extra credit.” Yuri shoved him and Otabek laughed, pulling Yuri into a kiss.

“I love you.” Otabek whispered. “Happy birthday Yura.”

Yuri just smiled and brought him closer, crying happily into his shoulder while Nikolai and Katya tugged on their shirts for attention.

More Otayuri parents!

Mornings After Shots [Jason Todd x Reader]

Prompt: “For the Jason Todd x Reader, what if you were platonic roommates but one night y'all went shot for shot and now you’re waking up in Jason’s bed with an arm around you? 👀😏 doesn’t have to be nsfw, maybe just implied?

A/N: Okay guys! Here’s the collab I did with @redhoodshood! Part 1 is over on her blog so go check it out loves! I loved writing this and I hop you all enjoy it!

Warning: Sexual themes implied

Friends Night Out - Part 1


The next morning you felt strange. Not just from the major hangover you had, but there was something else. You’re having trouble remembering anything from last night, just ordering shots with Jason. Everything after was just cloudy. What happened?

Cracking one eye open you looked around the floor, seeing your discarded clothes. Then noticing you were wearing someone else’s shirt and nothing else, feeling the weight of an arm around your waist. ‘Shit, did I have a one night stand or something?’ you thought. You weren’t one to normally do this but sometimes your drunk self can be a little wild.

You felt the bed shift before hearing someone exhale behind you. Feeling the arm around your waist pull you into a hard, bare chest. Then a nose nuzzle into the back of your neck before feeling the mystery person relax, having fallen back to sleep.

When curiosity got the best of you, you decided to peer over your shoulder to see who your drunk self had chosen. Your eyes trailed up the blanketed figure’s body before you reached his face. Your jaw dropped and cheeks flushed upon seeing who’s arm was around you. “Oh my god” whispering to yourself, not loud enough for him to stir.

The person currently spooning you, is your roommate. Your fully PLATONIC roommate! How could you sleep with Jason?!

Panicking you carefully slipped from his grasp before scooping up your clothes and undergarments and rushing into your own room. “Oh my god! I slept with..! How could I sleep with..?” hiding your face in your hands. Memories slowly coming back in chunks from the prior night.

You remembered the shots, the longing glances you both made, calling a cab to take you both home, then out of nowhere Jason attacks your lips in the back of the cab. The last thing you remember is how it got heated and the cabby yelled at the both of you to save it for when you’re out of his cab. Though some chunks were still coming back.

Scratching at your arm nervously, ‘What if he remembers? What if I’ve ruined our friendship? What if –?’ Your thoughts were cut off by a knock on your door.

“Uh, just a minute!” you called before scrambling to your dresser to pull on a pair of panties and sweatpants. “Alright, it’s open” calling once more.

Watching as the knob turned and door cracked open, “[F/n]?” hearing Jason’s voice before seeing him. Coming in your room he couldn’t meet your eyes, a light pink tinging his cheeks. You didn’t often see Jason blushing or flustered so this told you, he remembers something from last night.

“Yes Jason?” timidly playing with your hands.

“I, uh, do you remember last night?” Your cheeks flushed again, nodding you answered “vaguely.” Recalling the memories you had, and the ones still returning. “So you remember…” His voice trailing off quietly. You nodded again, “Some.”

He rubbed his face before coming to sit next to you on the bed. You watched his movements, it’s not that you’re uncomfortable, just embarrassed. Really embarrassed. It would be a lie if you said you had no attraction or feelings whatsoever toward Jason. In fact you actually cared a lot for him, but never told him due to fear of rejection. Jason attracts the most beautiful women, them often becoming apart of his night fully.

You never thought you could compare to them. But remembering the way he kissed you in the cab, it felt like more than just a one night stand type of kiss. You felt a neediness and passion behind it. Even though you both were drunk off your asses.

Jason shifted next to you, “[F/n] I…” he began, “Last night, was it a mistake?” His tone was unsure and seemed to sound like he was hoping that it wasn’t. You looked at him a bit shocked, “I-I don’t know, do you think it was a mistake?”

He sighed before shaking his head, “[F/n] I-I, I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. I never told you because I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship or put you in harm’s way with the dangers that come with me being Red Hood. Now, I understand if you don’t return them, o-or want me to leave. Just after what happened, I figured now’s a better time than any and I don’t know if I can bottle them up any longer.”

Your eyes widened when processing his words. “B-but, if you felt or feel that way, why do you bring home women all of the time? I-I never thought that…” keeping your eyes from his. Knowing how good he is at reading people, he’d see right through you.

“I just needed something to help me with my needs~” he smiled. You chuckled at the statement, “I, um. I feel the same.” smiling at him. His eyes widened when looking at you, “About the ‘needs’ or?” unsure of your meaning.

“About our feelings toward each other. I feel the same.” Confirming your answer for him. He beamed before pouncing on you. Eagerly connecting his lips to yours, feeling his relief, the kiss getting heated rather quickly.

He pinned you underneath him while you continued, even more memories of the night before being jogged. He pulled away smirking, “I’ve been waiting to do that consciously for a long time.” Smiling back up at him you teased, “I know the feeling.” After saying that he connected his lips to yours again, feeling the same passion from the other night, along with the neediness. But this time you felt something else… Love.

Title: Queen of Hearts
Fandom: Riverdale
Characters: Cheryl Blossom x Reader
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 1,400
Warnings: None
Notes: This is a result of me lamenting on the fact that Cheryl really deserves someone who loves and appreciates her.

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

Prior to falling in love with the captain of the River Vixens, you had absolutely no interest in cheerleading. You thought it was one of the stupidest ‘sports’ in existence, and it was nothing more than a social construct to allow pretty, popular girls to assert their dominance over their school. It was most certainly still that, but after accompanying Cheryl to practice every day for two weeks while her car was in the shop, you realized it was of much more importance than just some air-headed rhyming phrases and pom-poms.

“You’re really going to just sit in solemn silence with your headphones in, while the hottest and most talented girl you know is working her ass off right in front of you?” Cheryl inquired as she followed you over to the bleachers. You set her duffle bag down next to your backpack, and made yourself as comfortable as possible on the cold metal seat while she fished around in her bag.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll definitely be watching your ass – I just won’t be paying much attention to anything else,” you clarified, shooting her a wink, and she rolled her eyes in response. Still, you could see a small smile on her red lips.

“Whatever, just… keep quiet – and let me know if you need anything,” Cheryl said, attempting to still sound annoyed, yet unable to keep from being sweet to you.

“Gotcha, doll.”

Keep reading

bugheadjonesiii  asked:

I have a fic suggestion. Betty gets jughead a dog! If you think the idea is stupid just ignore me all together lol

Here it is, just for you, friend! I hope I destroy you with feels 😈

Betty sighed in relief as she slipped her heels off her tired feet, ankles slightly swollen with the pressure of the day. She rolled her neck back and forth, delighting in the satisfying pop her joints made, eyes falling closed in contentment. She peeked her head round the door to Jughead’s office, expecting to see him, head down, dark hair always falling over his eyes, as he typed away furiously at his laptop as he did every day, waiting to greet her with a blinding grin and a sweet kiss. Her brows furrowed as she cast her gaze over the empty room, the sound of fingers on keys not creating their usual music.

“Jug?” she called out apprehensively, turning her head as she made to go into the living room instead.

“In here,” a somewhat muffled response came from in front of her. She rounded the corner, uncontainable laugh bursting from her lips as she took in the position her husband had decided to place himself in. He was upside down, lanky legs thrown over the back of their cream couch, hair standing up on end, as he attempted to wrap his mouth around the straw in the glass of water placed before him on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Betty asked around a grin as he flailed, straw moving further away from his mouth with every breath he huffed out. He tipped his eyes to hers briefly, childlike smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Got hiccups, wanted to see if this upside-down drinking thing really worked,” he explained as his upper body jumped slightly, hiccup catching in his throat. Betty shook her head affectionately, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she watched him, so carefree and every bit the child he never got to be in his youth.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” she asked cheekily, quirking an accusing eyebrow at him. He sighed, giving up after his latest struggle and moving to sit up, cheeks adorably flushed from all the blood rushing to his head. Betty came to sit beside him, running a gentle hand over the colour, settling readily into his open arms.

“Writer’s block, again,” he lamented, pressing his face to her temple to inhale her soothing scent. He missed it from the moment she left their bed in the morning until the second she got home at night. She hummed happily as she felt Jughead drop a kiss against her skin, rubbing a reassuring hand against his denim-clad thigh.

“It’ll pass, love, it always does,” she consoled, looking up at him from where her head was resting against his shoulder. He grumbled incoherently beneath her, fingers tracing incomprehensible patterns against her arm.

“I just do the same thing every day, all day. It gets tired, and I don’t want to feel that way about writing; I love it, I do. I just need something else to break up the day, you know? Occupy my mind with something else for a while,” he vented. Betty pressed her lips together, wanting so desperately to tell him her news but deciding she needed to wait a little bit longer. She tucked her face into his shirt to hide her grin.

“I’m sure we’ll find you something,” she murmured into the fabric, all the tension leaving her shoulders as he pulled her closer against him.


“Juggie?” Betty called as she closed the door softly behind her, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice as she struggled with the tiny ball of fluff in her arms.

“Office,” Jughead shouted by way of reply. She followed the rhythmic tapping of keys until she was standing at the threshold, features glowing in anticipation. He eyed her cautiously, lips pinching together in a pout as he tried to suppress a grin, spreading infectiously from her own.

“Betts… what is it?” he asked, glinting eyes flitting over her frame, taking particular note of the way her arms were tucked securely behind her back. She squirmed slightly, wrestling with an invisible force. “What are you hiding?” he asked again, letting out a nervous laugh at her unwavering smile.

“You said you wanted something to occupy your time. Well…” she trailed off, finally bringing her arms around in front of her, revealing the scrabbling grey and white sheepdog puppy cradled in her grip. “Say hello to the newest member of our family!”

If someone had asked Betty to describe the look that lit Jughead up from within she didn’t think she would ever find the words to do it justice. He bounded from his seat, taking the puppy from her hands and brought it to his face with the wonder of a young boy, cooing sweet words into its warm fur. When he finally tore his eyes away from his present they were shining through a mixture of pure innocent joy and unshed tears.

“Betty, how did you…?” he trailed off, words getting stuck in his throat, expression filled with unadulterated awe.

“Your dad told me that you always wanted one when you were younger, before… you know. So I sourced out this little guy and I’ve just been waiting to pick him up,” she beamed, completely in love with the look that showed no sign of leaving Jughead’s face. “Couldn’t have you clawing at the wallpaper in boredom now, could we?” Betty spoke, half to Jughead, half to the dog, as she moved closer to scratch the panting ball of fluff behind the ears. Jughead’s free hand snaked round her waist, pulling her tight against his side.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. She smiled softly, tongue sneaking out to wet her lips delicately, his eyes following the movement.

“I had an idea, yeah,” she replied with a smirk, leaning in to capture his mouth with hers. They pulled away with a joint laugh, Betty letting out a disgusted shriek as a third, more unwelcome tongue joined their little make out session, the puppy choosing that time to lap at both of their cheeks. “What do you want to call this menace?” Betty laughed, swiping a hand at the slobber left on her cheek.

“Hot Dog,” Jughead said instantaneously, cheeks colouring a rosy pink. “In my head he was always called Hot Dog,” he sighed. Betty couldn’t wait any longer, practically bouncing on her toes with her need to tell him.

“There’s more,” she burst out eventually, clasping her hands together in glee. Jughead turned to her eyes wide.

“More than the best present ever?” he asked incredulously, tickling Hot Dog’s belly gently. She nodded, green eyes glistening.

“I know you said you needed something else to do, and in my defence I found out about this after I got Hot Dog so I didn’t mean for it to come all at once but…” she paused, taking a steadying breath. “Look at the back of his collar,” she whispered, tears shimmering along her waterline. Jughead’s brows pinched in confusion as he cupped Hot Dog closer to his chest, glancing down to notice something attached to the leather. He took the rolled up paper in trembling hands, unfurling it slowly. He read over the results, mouth dropping open.

“Betty, are you…?” he whispered, heart hammering in his chest, threatening to burst from an overload of emotions. She was nodding frantically, biting enticingly on her bottom lip as the tears over-spilled.

“Yes! The doctor sent over the results this morning. We’re gonna have a baby, Juggie,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding in his ears. It was hardly a moment before his own eyes flooded, tears leaving wet trails down his cheeks as he wound his fingers into her golden hair, pulling her face to his in a searing kiss. He pulled back, breathless, head spinning, to look into her eyes.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he repeated frantically, voice shaking. She brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, a gesture he would never tire of.

“Think of it this way,” she began, pausing until he raised his eyebrows in question. “You’ll never be bored again,” she murmured cheekily, heart flipping as he threw his head back in carefree laughter.

“That I won’t.”

Headcanon: Otabek, like Victor, has a Thing for seeing his boyfriend in his clothes, and ever since Barcelona he has been quietly buying things with animal prints and cats on them and wearing them around just so that they’ll be soft and well-worn and full of his scent if he ever gets around to telling Yura how he feels. Said confession takes another two Grands Prix, impatient nudging from his fellow skaters, and a truly staggering amount of clear-in-hindsight flirting, but when they do start dating Yuri goes for those clothes first thing, unabashedly pulling them straight from Otabek’s closet into his suitcase (he doesn’t wear a single one of the shirts he brought that first visit). Otabek would congratulate himself on his foresight except that Yuri steals and wears the rest of Otabek’s clothes as well. Anything goes. Team Kazakhstan sweats, Otabek’s leather jacket, the suspenders from his last juniors free skate (“I thought we agreed those were a mistake,” Otabek says. “Nothing is a mistake on me,” Yuri replies, snapping a strap against his chest, and Otabek has to agree), pants from before Otabek’s growth spurt (so comically short on Yuri’s newly lengthened legs that they could pass for capris but so tight and form-fitting on Yuri’s ass that Beka can barely fucking breathe). Yuri would build a nest out of Beka’s clothes and sleep in it if he didn’t have the real thing to cuddle into every night; he does, sometimes, when they’re separated by competitions or obligations or training. He never apologizes for strewing the bed with half the contents of their wardrobes. Beka’s usually kissing him too hard to care.

Yuri ends up taller and thinner than Otabek, so Otabek usually doesn’t borrow things from Yuri. But he finds out that the clothes thing goes both ways when he’s picking up their bedroom and finds himself holding one of Yura’s leopard-print tops that’s always loose on him, sliding off his collarbones, exposing a pale shoulder. He rubs the silky fabric and considers. Something cotton or polyester would probably be better, have a little more give in its fabric. Or he could try one of the big, fluffy hoodies that Yuri is addicted to, curling up in them on rainy days. But he feels the sensual caress of the material and wonders…

Yuri comes home early to find Otabek in his shirt, stretched tight across his chest, shoulder muscles flexing as he pulls it down his body, a strip of tan skin flashing between the hem and the waistband of his pants. Beka freezes. 

“Um,” he says. Yuri drops his skate gear.

“I promise I didn’t tear it,” Otabek says, holding up his hands. The hemline inches back up his abdomen. “It’s just that there was just enough room to get it on and now I can’t get my arms to go back through and-”

“Shut up,” Yuri breathes and lunges

The shirt does not manage to survive. The pants do, but only just.

look blizzard i know you were trying for a mgs look or some fuck shit but you Failed. you fucked up. i expected nothing and i’m still disappointed. i don’t give a shit about this new skin. it could not interest me less. cause now her entire abdomen is exposed instead of a horrendous boob window and i don’t even know what’s happening at the back yet and i’ve no doubt it’s just as bad. give widowmaker something interesting. and by interesting i do not mean eye candy. i mean good design. better design. if you’re going to write a character that’s been brainwashed and tortured give her a modicum of fucking decency, for the love of everything holy in the world. none of this “chose her outfit herself” nonsense. use your powers as canon’s hand of god to bestow upon her a outfit that perhaps only reveals her arms and ankles. actual pants that don’t hug her butt crack and let her wear a normal goddamn shirt. if talon didn’t give her any decency could you, please, i am begging, let her have some? please? please. please

Is That My Shirt? - Castiel

This is the third piece in the ‘Is that my shirt?’ series I am working on. As requested by @partijunkie this one focused on Castiel.

There was nothing quite like getting caught in the rain with your girlfriend. It made you feel like you were in a movie the moment right before the love interests shared their first kiss with one another. At least it would if Castiel was into that sort of thing. Which he wasn’t.

Despite him not being into that kind of thing, Castiel had still found himself running down the street with Candy as water poured from the sky. By the time they had reached his apartment they were both completely soaked through, the cold water leaving goosebumps on their skin as they entered the warm building. Candy had stood in the entrance of his apartment, wringing out the excess water in her shirt onto his floor while Castiel did the same to his red hair. With every squeezing movement, more water pooled onto the floor, as the time it was going to take to clean up increased.

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write to me

soulmate au where if you draw on your skin, the other can see

for @matchaball//@mmmatchaball because she loves soulmate AUs so much. 

It starts when she’s six years old and she’s playing dolls up in her room. The word hello scribes itself on her arm, the letters are messy and childish just as if she’s written them herself.  But Marinette knows she doesn’t have a marker in her hand for she is literally holding her doll. The green letters impishly tease her as her heart beats. For a moment, she closes her eyes, screws them so tight she can see little spots dance on the backs of her eyelids. 

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don't kiss me (1)

Usually, he can ignore her. Usually, he isn’t cursed by a spirit attached to a ring given by his mother. (He doesn’t want to think about what it means, that his mother had cursed him before she had disappeared.)

“What are you doing?” Félix snaps at the pigtailed girl hovering around him.

“Your shirt is lovely,” she chirps, lifting his right arm and inspecting his shirt cuff. “Oh, what a cool ring! Where did you get it?”

He jerks his arm out of her grasp. “None of your business,” he growls, stalking off. “Go away.”

The last time Félix saw his mother, she had pressed a kiss to his forehead. The action was notable only because she had never done that before, and to Félix it meant nothing more. It was not until he had returned home that day and finds the ring that he understood that she had left both Félix and his father.

“This is my parting gift to you, or perhaps my parting curse. I’m sorry,” she had written in her letter. “Be strong.”

Bad luck had manifested when Félix donned his mother’s gift, and its name was Plagg.

Marinette Cheng does not go away.

To Be Close To You [P. 2] (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Originally posted by dmentr

✩ prompt: p2 of this and a request i had to write an angsty story about newt still being in love with leta lestrange. also i strongly recommend listening to “portrait gallery” by luke howard and “sparks” by coldplay whilst reading and after if you’d really like to wallow in melancholy.

✩ word count: the number of eddie's freckles

✩ warnings: melancholy angst and mild fluff 

To Be Close To You [P. 2]

She really doesn’t know how long they’ve been like this. How long they’ve been close like this. How long they’ve felt close like this. 

But, right now, in this moment, she’s allowed herself to be in love. Allowed herself to want more than just a freckled smile, or the glint of his eyes, allowed herself to indulge in the warmth of his chest and the heat of his breath on her skin.

She’s allowed herself, in these dissolving seconds to pretend they’re in love. To pretend that his closeness is not fleeting, that his touch isn’t out of friendship and that the kiss he plants on her forehead isn’t meaningless.

It seems like he’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. Because there are layers between them, that aren’t just clothing. 

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Sickly Sweet Part 2- Jughead Jones x Reader

Summary: The reader and Jughead have a repeat of the diner incident during the gangs movie night.
Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader
Fandom: Riverdale
Word Count: 1095
Warnings: Slightly Smutty I guess
Y/N= your name
L/N= your last name
Y/H/C= your hair color
Y/C/E= your color eyes



Part 1

Y/N’s head rested against Jughead’s shoulder as she lay beside him on Veronica’s plush sofa. The soft murmurings of the other occupants of the room can be heard over the movies dialogue, Archie sat on the armchair opposite them whilst Veronica and Betty lay entangled in each other on the other available sofa.

Jughead pulls Y/N closer as the two snuggle and share body heat, as the pair become increasingly engrossed in the movie.

The familiar slamming of the front door signals that Veronica’s mum has arrived with Pop’s takeout as the unmistakable scent wafts through the apartment.

Instantaneously the five teens make the trek towards to the kitchen to retrieve their dinner and bid goodnight to Hermione. Jughead nudges Y/N’s hip as he points out the all too familiar milkshake to her. The young girls face instantly turns scarlet as she recalls the events that occurred last time she had Pop’s, Jughead stifles a laugh as he grabs his food as well as his girlfriends and makes his way towards the living room.

With the teens now settled with their food and the movie long forgotten, the conversation turns to Archie’s love life; more specifically lack of.

Veronica grills him for the exact details on why he broke up with Val whilst Betty half-heartedly tries to restrain her girlfriend. Jughead sits back with a smirk on his face as he watches his best friend be berated by the two as Archie looks helpless.

Y/N however appears disinterested by the banter and continues to devour her dinner like it’s the last meal she’ll ever consume.

Her eyes waver as she gazes lovingly at the strawberry milkshake in front of her. A memory of what happened at Pop’s flash through her mind as she internally debates the pros and cons of her sweet treat.

Jughead watches her as his girlfriend ultimately decides that the drink is worth it. A smirk forms as he realizes the power that she’s unknowingly relinquished to him.

 He leans forward as her lips wrap around the straw and takes a short sip from the milkshake.

Her hooded eyes meet his as they both share a fleeting glance before turning away.

Jughead turns to her and begins to whisper into her ear.

“So when do I get to hear you moan again Princess?”

Y/N takes another sip of her milkshake as she ignores his question and stares straight ahead at the movie screen.

He moves closer to her on the couch and wraps his arm around her waist, the fabric of her peach skirt rustling with the movement.

The couple’s movements remain oblivious to their friends as they remain deeply engrossed in the movie.

Y/N’s taste buds tingle with every short sip of her milkshake and it’s not long before she lets out a short and soft moan of appreciation.

Jughead snaps his head towards his girlfriend as he realizes what’s happened and only noticed that his friends heard when Archie pauses the movie.

The remaining three teens look towards the couple with confusion and amusement evident on their faces.

“Did you just moan Y/N?” Veronica inquires as she sits up from her place on Betty’s lap.

The girl in question looks down at her lap as her face burns scarlet leaving her boyfriend to respond with a single nod of his head.

Archie lets out a bark of laughter as he watches his best mate stare lustfully towards Y/N as he un-pauses the movie.

Jughead grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it across himself and his partner.

“My lips really want to meet yours.” Jughead murmurs huskily into her ear.

Her face remains expressionless as her gaze remains fixed on the movie. Jughead however refuses to give up eliciting another reaction from his girlfriend so easily and continues to tease her under the covers.

He runs his hands up and down her thighs and blows his warm breath on her neck creating instantaneous goose bumps.

Y/N’s unwavering resolve finally breaks as her boyfriend’s hand inches its way to the underside of her ass and he pinches it softly.

A small pout fills her face as she silently begs for more contact from Jughead.

“Don’t give me that face; it’s so cute I might not be able to hold back.” He retorts before moving his hand towards her thigh.

His girlfriend’s face fills with anticipation as she squirms slightly in her seat.

His hand stops short of the top of her thigh as he clears his throat and bids the rest of the gang goodnight and beckons for Y/N to follow him.

“Use protection!” Veronica yells from the living room as the couple make their way towards the spare bedroom.

Y/N fumbles for the door handle as her hands shake with anticipation.

They crash onto the bed and become entangled in each other.

Jughead’s lips connect with the sweet spot on her neck as her hands struggle to unbutton his shirt whilst her lays somewhere on the floor.

Y/N responds to his ministrations by arching her body closer to him as he continues to run his hands through her Y/H/C locks.

With their mouths now battling for dominance, his long fingers make their way down to Y/N’s breasts as he cups them both.

“Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like…” Jughead muses.

In response Y/N grinds her hips into her boyfriends and causes him to squeeze down on her breasts.

He retaliates by leaving a trail of hickeys down her neck, and as her head is thrown back she lets out a loud moan of enjoyment that can be heard throughout the house.

Giggles can be heard coming from the living room as the realization sets in that the duos every sound can be heard, the pair reluctantly pull away and retrieve their discarded garments from across the room.

Jughead beckons his girlfriend back towards the bed as he sits at the head of it in only his boxers.

She seems to understand the hint as she puts on his large grey shirt that swamps her body and climbs into bed with him.

His arm wraps around her body as she nestles her head into the pillow, Jughead pulling the blankets up to their chests.

“Goodnight my love” he says placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Night Juggie” she replies sleepily as her Y/C/E flicker shut.

Y/N falls asleep instantly as Jughead yawns. He lays there gazing at Y/N until he finally feels his eyelids flutter closed and drifts off to sleep.

A/N: I think this is the longest piece of writing I’ve done in a while. Sorry for taking so long to post it, schools been hectic but it’s all under control now.

Just a reminder that requests are open my loves xx

Is That My Shirt? - Armin

This is the second piece of the ‘Is That My Shirt?’ series I am working on. This time, it’s Armin’s turn.
If you have a preference for which boy I do next, or if you want me to do one of the boys that aren’t a dating option in the game, leave me an ask.

So, maybe baking hadn’t been the best idea. Using measuring cups accurately. Softening but not melting butter. Cracking eggs and not getting any shell in the mix. Remembering to preheat the oven. And don’t even think about mentioning the haunting amount of flour that was now coating the pair. Baking required so much time and effort, far more than Armin had anticipated when he first suggested the idea to Candy. All he had wanted was a warm cake to eat with his girlfriend. What he got was a giant mess in the kitchen that he was going to have to clean up… Oh, and a giant mess all over himself and Candy. Precision really wasn’t his thing, and as it turns out it wasn’t hers either.

Once the cake had landed somewhat safely into the oven the pair had split up into separate rooms to get changed. Armin, like the occasional gentleman that he was, had allowed Candy to change in his room while he took the bathroom across the hall. It had only taken him a few minutes to discard the ingredient soaked clothes he had been wearing and replace them with something fresh. Apparently Candy wasn’t as speedy with her outfit swap.

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anonymous asked:

Reader is studying at the kitchen counter, wearing her big, black framed glasses and one of Kara's sleeping shirts. Kara can't help but find the sight of her girlfriend both adorable and sexy. "Mmm, you've been studying for ages, take a brake love" *cuddles neck* "I need to study Kara" *kisses and nips at neck* "mmm, I-I can do it later" reader jumps up in her arms, and they make out.

Originally posted by kara-zorels

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"I Love You Okay? Happy Now?”- Bucky x Reader


Request from anon: For the prompt list thing, could you do #6, 16 and 26 with Bucky, please? If possible, could you put them all into one imagine, please? Oh and by the way: I love your writing! Xx

Originally posted by thesebbystan

Prompts:  “This isn’t about you!” “I love you okay? Happy now?” “Is that my shirt?” (Prompt list)

Warnings - Angsty. Arguing, Half naked Bucky, Jealous?Reader, swearing, kissing.

Word Count - 2K

Bucky laid there, his arms around another woman as she lay there asleep; her head was positioned on his chest as her arms were wrapped around his torso. His fingers were laced in her hair as he continued to soothe her in her sleep as he continued to day dream, thinking about anything and everything.

What was he doing with his life? Sure, having sex with different woman every week was fun. Having new people and new experiences in his bed was much more than he expected, knowing his life in the 40’s would be much more different if he had not gone to war. But he can’t even remember the last time he loved… Or if he has ever even loved before?

Then something clicked in his mind; yes, he loves you. You were on his mind 24/7, through the dawn of morning till the dead of night you never left his thought. But he could understand his own feelings, is it love that he felt for you? Or is it just sexual attraction?

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anonymous asked:

did you ever make a proper madoka skirt tutorial? and what did you make the skirt out of? Just a cotton fabric? any particular type? it looks so lovely and fluffy

I never got around to making a full tutorial, just explained how to stack layers to give it the donut look. I tried, but couldn’t figure out how to explain it in text/images without it getting truly convoluted and then I lost steam and got busy with school. Being a university student is suffering. 

(It’s also bullshit that I have trouble explaining it in text because if Christine can teach me how to do this over the phone, there is no reason why I shouldn’t be able to write it. Let’s give this another shot.)

Anyway, so.

The skirt is made of cotton sateen. It’s this amazingly beautiful fabric that is crisp, lovely to iron, and has this lovely shine to it without being satin-levels of obnoxious. It is what dreams are made of. I wish I had more costumes that used this. We also used it on Sayaka’s shirt, Mami’s shirt/arm warmers and Kyoko’s ruffles. If it were considered at the time, I would have insisted Christine use it for Homura’s shirt, too, but alas. (BRB, making Maya use it for her Satsuki costume.)

So anyway, you want to make this.

Once you break it down it becomes significantly less complicated than it looks.

Basically the entire skirt is rectangles. Also note that the skirt still has to be worn with a petticoat. This just gives you the necessary “donut” poof look.

A. You have a rectangle that becomes the waistband. Generally [your waist + seam allowance + room for elasticizing]” x 4”. This will be elasticized, not difficult.

B. You have a rectangle that will be the upper layer that domes over the tulle. This gets gathered down a lot, so you probably do something like [[your waist x 5]+ seam allowance] x 20” or something. It depends on how long you want the skirt to be, and keep in mind that this layer includes the bottom ruffle. You can do this in panels (as we did five panels of [waist]) or you can find one big massive long strip. Up to you and how you can most effectively use fabric; any seams will be lost in the ruffles anyway. 

C. Then you have a rectangle that is the bottom layer, which can be much smaller, like [[your waist x 3]+ seam allowance] x 14”. 

D. As many rectangles as you want in tulle for the stuffing inside. This is basically like a petticoat but sealed inside the skirt; any petticoat tutorial should give you an idea of how to do this.

You’ll notice that B is longer than C by about 6”. This is to include hem and ruffle. You can alter these numbers (20 and 14, in this case) to be whatever you want, as it will depend on your height and how long you want the skirt to be. Katherine’s skirt barely covers her bum (hooray, ruffles and matching bloomers!) but she is also 5’6” or something with long legs, if she were 5’0” and had short legs, that same measurement might fall to mid-thigh. You have to alter these numbers to scale to you, but you still want to keep the 6” (or whatever) difference to account for ruffle and hem.

So first you take B and you make it into the “skirt” by joining both ends and then hemming. Cool. Now you have a “skirt”. 

Then you go five inches (or whatever you’ve decided to make your ruffle length) from the bottom of the skirt/hem and sew a gathering line all the way around. Gather this down to the width of C. Attach the bottom of the C-skirt to this ruffle line so you’ve essentially got one two-layered skirt, the top layer (B) having much more fabric.

Gather the top of C down to match the waistband (A).  Sew (or tack, as you will still be adding D and B.)

Create your petticoat (D) layer to gather down to match waistband (A). Sew (or tack, as you still need to add B.) There are a handful of pictures of this process here but I’ve included some below too.

Now gather down B to match the waistband (A). Again, sew or tack in place. (It’s a shit ton of fun, I tell you. That many layers gets crazy.)

Attach waistband, install elastic.

Become cupcake.

Hope that helped!

- Jenn

anonymous asked:

"is that my shirt" djwifi

I loved writing this, thank you :’)


Alya stared at Nino over the rim of her glasses, arms crossed and foot tapping.

“Babe,” Nino started, not looking up from tablet on his lap. “Your tapping is super cute, and I’m sure the way you’re quirking your eyebrow at me is simply adorable, but the sound is really throwing me off.”

“Don’t babe me, DJ. I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” she said, the tapping increasing in speed.

Nino sighed and pulled an earbud from his ear before looking up at his girlfriend. “Alright, spill.”

She stopped tapping and gave him a serious look, but he could see the smile fighting through it. “Nino, you know I love you. You know my schedule and I know yours. We know each other’s hobbies and deepest, darkest secrets. So I have just one thing to ask you.” It was Nino’s turn to quirk an eyebrow. “Is that my shirt?”

By the look of puzzlement on his face, he hadn’t expected that. “Uh…” He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. “I… I was wondering why it was so short,” he admitted sheepishly, standing so Alya could see.

She burst into laughter at the sight of him, the shirt a couple inches too short to cover his whole upper body. “You didn’t even stop to think it wasn’t yours?” she said between laughter.

“I thought it just got shrunk in the wash! Besides its length, it looks really good on me, Als!” As if to prove his point, he struck a pose worthy of Adrien Agreste.

When her laughter died down a bit, she walked over and gently punched his shoulder. He cracked a smile at her, which she returned. “I will admit, it does look pretty nice on you. My only problem is that is says ‘Nice girl’ and you didn’t even go to Nice with me. Go to Nice, then you can wear my shirt. Hell, I’ll even buy you one just like it,” she told him.

“Alyaaaa, you know I can’t go to Nice with you until I finish all the gigs you booked for me here,” he groaned. “What kind of girlfriend and manager leaves a guy to play in Paris while she goes down to Nice for shopping?”

“The kind who knows you would’ve been worrying about your reputation dying since you just started to get out there,” Alya says matter-of-factly. “Also the kind who is friends with the owner of La Petite Cocinelle and needed to be there for support.”

“I know, I know, you’re a great friend and an even better girlfriend,” he said, giving her a loving look.

“Yes, yes I am,” she agreed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Now, either get out of my shirt or give me one of yours to wear.”

He snorted and sat down, gesturing to their room. “Dresser’s all yours, babe. Pick any shirt you want.”

“Probably not wise of you to give me free reign, but no backsies!” she called as she rushed into their room, shutting the door behind her.

Shaking his head, Nino returned his attention to the tablet he had set down. He set to responding to emails concerning his work while he waited for her to come out. After what seemed like hours, he heard the door open. Setting the tablet back down, he grinned and turned. “What happened, Als, you get lost in Narnia agaaaaainholycrap.”

Alya stood proudly, chest puffed out at her find. It’d taken a lot of time and digging around, but she found the shirt Nino wore a lot back when they first met. She was lucky it’d been such a large size, otherwise it probably wouldn’t fit her.

Nino’s fingers ran through his hair as he stared. “Wow, Als. I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to find that. I didn’t even know if it was here with us or with my parents. It- it looks really nice on you. I mean, everything does, but-”

“I know what you mean,” she interrupted. “And thank you, o music man of mine.” She walked over and sat beside him, leaning into his side. “Play me some music?”

“Anything for the lovely lady,” he said, affection clear in his voice. He unplugged the headphones from his tablet and pulled up a playlist of older music he’d made. Knowing which ones she preferred and which ones helped calm them both, he selected a song and leaned into her.

It wasn’t long before the two were dozing together, their hands intertwined as the music continued to sooth them.