Prompt Post 1

[makkachin]

Notes: This post might contain adult contents. Proceed at your own discretion.

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Rules (May change later):
1.Anon not necessary but recommended.
2.Put pairings/kinks/tropes/warnings on the comment title.
3.Any kink is fine. Fic or art fills is fine. Multi fills is encouraged.
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5.For the ease of prompt finding and email tracking please use full names from the official site in the comment title, except please write Yuri Katsuki as Yuuri Katsuki to differentiate him from Yuri Plisetsky.
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<sub>Names:
-Yuuri Katsuki
-Victor Nikiforov
-Yuri Plisetsky
-Seung Gil Lee
-Emil Nekola
-Otabek Altin
-Georgi Popovich
-Cristophe Giacometti
-Guang-Hong Il
-Jean-Jacques Leroy
-Phichit Chulanont
-Michele Crispino
-Kenjiro Minami
-Leo De La Iglesia

-Toshiya Katsuki, Hiroko Katsuki, Mari Katsuki
-Takeshi Nishigori, Yuko Nishigori, Axel / Lutz / Loop Nishigori
-Minako
-Hisashi Morooka
-Yakov Feltsman
-Celestino Cialdini
-Mira Babicheva
-Lilia Baranovskaya
-Sara Crispino
-Kolya Plisetsky</sub>


Ao3 collection:
https://archiveofourown.org/collections/YuriOnIceKink

Comments

Re: Seung-gil crossdressing

[(Anonymous)]

First, Seung-gil makes sure that he is alone. His parents are out for the day, and he double-checks that the curtains for his room are shut tight. His fans have made him paranoid, and this isn't something he wants getting out to them.

His dog is dozing on his bed; she looks up for a few moments as he starts to pull things from a drawer, but then sets her head down once more with a quiet snuffle. He picks out a relatively simple outfit, this time, already put together in his head, then sets the clothes in order on his dresser before going for the buttons on his shirt.

Seung-gil's heartbeat picks up as he strips down, taking the time to fold everything neatly before putting them aside. His heart thuds almost audibly in his chest as he pulls on the under-clothes, white and insubstantial, only thrums harder when he picks up the skirt of the hanbok. It's slightly unwieldy to get into by himself – it's so long, long enough to wear as a dress by itself – but he manages, shivering a bit when the bountiful fabric brushes against his shins. He strings a norigae charm, embroidered butterflies and long tassels in yellow and green, on to the long straps of the skirt before he ties them around his chest.

Next, the blouse, a deep, bright blue to match the screaming red of the skirt, with paler cuffs that glitter with silver geometric patterns. It's a bit narrow on him, but it doesn't strain too much at the shoulders and he can still move his arms properly while wearing it, so he makes do. The ribbons on the front are pale orange, translucent and long, and the knot takes about two seconds to tie. He spends a few seconds more adjusting it until the loop is elegant and proportioned right.

His heart has calmed by now, and it no longer sounds in his ears as he picks the skirt up in his fingertips and gives it a good shake until it fluffs up like it's supposed to. He glances in the mirror, once, and then away. There are times when he has tried sitting on the edge of his dresser, painting his face in more colors and glitter, but he doesn't feel like it today. He simply runs his fingers through his hair until it settles more nicely, then clutches his skirt up with one hand as he bends back down to look through a different drawer.

His hair is far too short for any of the traditional things, the ribbons and hair-pins, so he doesn't have any. He does have some bobby pins, though, with little ceramic decorations at the ends. He picked them up when he was in China once, and they're good for pinning the longer strands out of his face.

When he stands up again, the skirt brushes against the floor. It's impossible to resist giving it a short twirl, hoisting it in his hands, feeling the full width of the many pleats spin with him and flutter against his legs. The ribbon dances, too, and the tassels on the charm tangle for a moment before separating again. It would be interesting to do a proper spin in this, though he can only try it in his head and imagine the skirt swinging out – even if he were ever to step out the door like this, it's not a practical outfit for skating in.

Maybe next season he should ask for a costume based on men's hanbok. It's never as pretty as the women's versions, but it would work well enough, and his coach would like the idea, with how she keeps telling him to skate for Korea. (And the fans would probably love it, not that he needs to encourage them.)

However practical or impractical the outfit is, it feels nice to wear, silk skimming his feet and snug shoulders and all. It feels nice, too, when he climbs back on his bed, skirt rustling as he reaches out to pet his dog. She leans her head into his hand, sleepy and content, and he smiles at her. He tucks his bare feet up, re-arranges the skirt on the bed – there's so much fabric, it's like having a blanket made of silk, and he likes the way his legs move freely underneath.

The blouse goes tight at his shoulders when he reaches out for his laptop and pulls it over. It doesn't quite adjust itself back when he's sitting straight again, but he ignores the discomfort for a moment and opens his laptop. The sleeves ride up a bit as he types his password, the silver catching the light from the screen. He admires them for the few seconds it takes for his computer to log him in.

He has hours yet to himself before his parents get home. Hours of the expanse of fabric tangling around his legs, soft and light; of the ribbon hanging from the blouse, smooth when he draws it idly through his fingers; of the charm that shifts against his chest each time he moves.

Across the sea, his fellow competitors are getting ready to move onto the ice. He brings up the livestream and curls closer to his dog. Some of her fur might get on the clothes, but it doesn't usually cling too much to this fabric. She distracts him as the announcers drone on, happy to have more of his attention, and then it's time for the competition to start. Seung-gil shifts his skirt again, adjusts the ribbons out of the way, tugs on the shoulders of the blouse until it no longer pulls, and settles in to watch.

Re: Seung-gil crossdressing

[(Anonymous)]

I love this.