#i like to think viktor has clips to keep his hair out of the way but he always somehow manages to lose them oh how sad how “unfortunate” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oliivverwood · 5 years

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marcus/oliver + social media for @rlversongs

LONG POST- idk how to put the keep reading from my phone sorry

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

Are you ready for thrilling Raptors vs Bucks Eastern Conference Final game 5? Tune in on YouTube 2nite aftergame for play by play analysis + predictions. Watch for live tweets. #NBA #Basketball

12:00 PM 2,340 likes 1,226 retweets

montyyyyy @grahamcracker

yo @casswarr five dollas on raps making history. wood has been straight sniping this year. bucks have no chance with that offense. #rapsin5

12:48 PM 5 likes 3 retweets

cassius ;) @casswarr

@grahamcracker ur fuckin insane if u think its gonna be easy for the raps. diggory's been an absolute wall this szn. he'll block potter's nasty dunks easy

1:05 PM 4 likes 1 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Game 5. Tonight. Air Canada Arena. #WeTheNorth

4:00 PM 1,904 likes 837 retweets

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

5 into 1st quarter, Wood from the Raps with the filthy cross on Malfoy, ballhandling like a dream. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

8:43 PM 734 likes 437 retweets

pants park (marky flints cuzzy) @panzyparkkk

@marcflintofficial im sure handling his balls is your dream ;))

8:50 PM 523 likes 277 retweets

marcus flint for NBA (@marcflintofficial) blocked pants park (marky flints cuzzy) (@panzyparkkk)

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

Potter steals from Diggory, lobs it to Weasley, throws it up to Wood for a dunk on Bole. The Raptors chemistry is off the charts this game. #NBA #NBAGame5 #Basketball

9:22 PM 256 likes 153 retweets

mclaggen the frat god @nolaggingmclaggen

yo why the fuck is flint being so nice about the raps rn. i don't want wood favouritism, i miss asshole flint. talk shit about bole's shitty defense, please.

10:00 PM 333 likes 457 retweets

oliver wood #0 (@oliverw00dofficial) liked a tweet by mclaggen the frat god (@nolaggingmclaggen)

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Eastern Conference dubs, absolutely ecstatic. See you against the Warriors for NBA finals. #WeTheNorth

11:54 PM 937 likes 765 retweets

HARRY POTTER #3 @harrypottter

to the finalsssssssssssssss!!!!!!!!!!!!! #WeTheNorth

11:56 PM 832 likes 655 retweets

YouTube

NBA by Marcus Flint

1,267,457 subscribers

Recent Posts:

*Blurry picture of two male figures, seemingly joined by the hand. One of them is brunette, the other black haired. Both tall. One is dressed in a grey tracksuit and clunky basketball shoes, the other in a pressed white shirt and black pants, tie looseness. They are smiling - the photo is too blurry to specify exactly who it is.

marcusflintbae this is obviously marcus flint and oliver wood, that's the tea. im so jealous of wood ugh.

Posted 1 hour ago

Liked by ginnywheeze, percyweasley, panspark, terhiggs, adrianpuc3y, k8iebell, hazzapotter, fredwheeze and 2943 others

Private Chat between Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint

oliver wood: marcus ur an idiot

marcus flint: how is this my fault

oliver wood: u were too nice to me on highlight analysis

oliver wood: and u forgot to tell parkinson that we're not public yet

marcus flint: well u should be happy u wanted to go public like six months ago

oliver wood: nOT LIKE THIS

oliver wood: let's announce it on twitter we've let them suffer long enough

marcus flint: don't use the photo that im wearing the purple tie in

marcus flint: it's ugly

oliver wood: you are in no position to be making demands

oliver wood: im not going to use a photo, i love you, I'll call you later

marcus flint: love u too babe

marcus flint for NBA @marcflintofficial

I'm dating Oliver Wood. I'm not biased to the raptors at all, don't tell him but I actually bet on the Warriors. #NBAFinals

9:03 PM 608,767 likes 438,898 retweets

oliver wood #0 @oliverw00dofficial

Marcus Flint and I have BEEN dating. Keep up. He fr didn't bet on us. If you stop watching him I'll request a trade. Joking. Not really. #NBAFinals

9:06 PM 453,738 likes 234,725 retweets

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synkiller82 · 5 years

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Collapse Into Me Chapter 26- Funny

Adrien awoke the next morning when he felt a slight nudging on his shoulder. When he blinked his eyes open, Marinette was bent over him, an exciting look sparkling in her bluebell eyes.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” she called when she noticed he was stirring. “It snowed last night and the hills at the park are perfect for sliding on!”

“Marinette,” Adrien groaned. “What are you doing up this early?”

“This is probably the only day I wake up super early on my own. Now, come on!” She nudged him again, this time hard enough to scoot him off the chaise and onto the floor.

Adrien grunted as he made contact with the floor. He stood slowly, rubbing his sore behind from its rough contact with the floor before his clothes were unceremoniously shoved into his arms. He looked from them to Marinette, who has already dressed in a heavy red cable knit sweater with white accenting, thick wool leggings, and thick socks. Her hair was pinned away from her eyes by clips but was down today.

“Go get dressed,” she urged, pushing him toward the door. “I want to take you sledding before brunch!”

Adrien quickly got ready and joined Marinette at the door where she was putting on her heavy winter coat and snow boots. He grabbed his coat and shoes and slid them on in time for Marinette to grab two plastic disks and dart out the door. Adrien couldn’t help but smile and gain some of her enthusiasm as she bounced and giggled in front of him. It was rare Adrien was able to enjoy a snow day like this. Normally he wouldn’t be allowed out, for fear of sickness or some other crazy excuse, but on the rare days he was given permission, it was only around the mansion grounds, which weren’t very fun.

The couple made their way to the park not far from Marinette’s home, the sound of laughing and screaming filled the air the closer they got. Adrien caught sight of Nino’s blue cap and his smile widened.

“Nino! What are you doing here?” Adrien bumped Nino’s fist as he reached him.

“You seriously think I would miss this?” Nino waved around at the slope where children of all ages were sliding down on everything from sleds to little disks like the ones Marinette had. Some even had cardboard boxes or nothing at all. Yet, all of them were having what looked like the time of their lives.

“You ready Adrien?” Marinette smiled up at him as she handed him a red saucer, keeping a pink one for herself. “It’s really easy. Nino, why don’t you go first and show him, then he and I will go together.”

“Sure thing.” Nino tilted his cap and walked over to the top of the hill, the others following behind. Nino took his position on his disk and used his hands to push off, giving himself a slight spin. He barreled down the incline, whooping and laughing until he was slowing to a stop at the bottom, using his feet as brakes.

“See, nothing to it,” Marinette assured, setting her own disk down.

“What happens if you run into someone?” Adrien asked, concerned about hurting someone accidentally. “It doesn’t look like you have much control over your path.”

“Happens all the time, actually.” Marinette shrugged. “You just apologize and help them up if they need it. It’s not really crowded today, probably because it’s Christmas, so we don’t have to worry about that so much.” She turned and smiled at him. “Come on, get settled in.” She held the back of Adrien’s disk and he cautiously stepped into it, sitting cross-legged as best he could. Before he could say anything, Marinette pushed him off, jumping into her own sled to follow.

Adrien’s wave of panic quickly turned into pure joy as he slid down. He yelped as he was bumped by Marinette’s sled, which turned into more laughter when he realized what had happened. He was having so much fun, he forgot the part about putting your feet out to stop. Nino grabbed the sled, but Adrien wasn’t ready and he tumbled into a snowdrift when the sled made the sudden stop.

“Adrien!” Marinette and Nino yelled at the same time. They ran over to where their friend had been buried in snow and sighed in relief as they heard his laughter coming from the area he landed.

“That was awesome!” Adrien shouted, climbing out from under the snow and dusting himself off. “Can we do it again?”

“Uh oh, we’ve created a monster,” Nino smirked as he picked up Marinette’s sled so she could help Adrien with his.

“Let him have fun,” Marinette scolded as everyone laughed. The teens continued looping the hill for the next hour or so until both Marinette and Nino’s phone chimed, letting them know it was time to go home.

“So, when do you have to go back?” Nino asked as he dusted off from a mishap on his last slide down.

“Tomorrow,” Adrien answered with a hint of melancholy. If it were up to him, and okay with the Dupain-Cheng’s, he would live with them until he was old enough to get his own place. Of course, it wasn’t up to him and so back to the cold, empty mansion he went.

“Well, try to have the best day then,” Nino bumped fists with Adrien and gave Marinette a hug. “I’ll see you in class next year if I don’t see you before then.”

Adrien and Marinette waved at Nino as he headed for the metro and they went back into the house. They removed their wet shoes and coats and proceeded to head up to the apartment. Once upstairs, they were greeted by Marinette’s parents, who were finishing up cooking brunch. Adrien went upstairs with Marinette to get a change of clothes, as his were wet from the snow, and changed in the bathroom while Marinette changed her leggings for a thinner pair in green.

“So, how as the sledding?” Tom asked as the four sat down.

“It was fantastic! I didn’t know it could be so much fun to slide down a hill!” Adrien answered enthusiastically, causing the group to laugh.

“I’m glad you have fun, dear,” Sabine added as she placed a plate in front of him. “What about you, Marinette?”

Before Marinette could answer, the doorbell rang. Marinette dashed downstairs as Adrien’s heart began to race. Was it Nathalie or Viktor? Was his father demanding he come home today for some reason? It was unusual for them to not text or call before changing plans, but not unheard of.

Marinette came back through the door with her grandparents trailing behind. Tom jumped up and greeted his parents while Marinette went to sit back down. She looked over to see Adrien breathing a sigh of relief and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Ah, so this is the boy our Marinetta is so fond of, yes?” Gina asked as she walked over to the table. “I am Gina, but you can call me Nonna.”

Adrien looked at Marinette, who nodded, before smiling back at Gina. “Nice to meet you, Nonna. I’m Adrien.”

“Oh, so polite is he? Rolland, why couldn’t you be more like this boy?” Gina took the chair Sabine offered her and began to make a plate.

“Because you aren’t nearly as sweet as our granddaughter,” Rolland huffed as he held out a hand to Adrien. “Rolland Dupain, but you can call me Pépère.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Adrien greeted, shaking Rolland’s hand.

Tom and Sabine brought up two more chairs to the table and the family settled in to start their holiday celebration. The meal was filled with laughter as Rolland, Gina, Tom, and Sabine all told embarrassing stories from the past. They also got into a pun contest, which no one was sure who actually won since everyone was in stitches before it was over. As Adrien wiped tears from his eyes, he still couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to share in something like this. He glanced over at Marinette, who had her head down and was squeaking as she tried to breath through her laughter, and again found himself feeling at home.

Once the laughter and meal came to a close, the adults went to talk while the teens started to work on the dishes. Marinette also put water on for tea and started the coffee pot again. The duo made short work of the dishes and went about making everyone hot drinks.

“You are lucky,” Marinette whispered as she added cream to her Nonna’s coffee. “This is the first year Pépère has come to our holiday celebration and Nonna hasn’t been able to make in two years.”

“But, you got them something while we were out yesterday,” Adrien remarked, confused.

“Of course I did. Just because they don’t come doesn’t mean I don’t remember them. We just pack everything and ship it to them if they aren’t able to come.”

“That’s nice of you,” Adrien replied, not sure what else to say.

Marinette smiled warmly and handed him a tray. He followed Marinette into the living room where Tom was busying himself making sure he found everything from under the tree and had the packages in different piles. Once everyone had their drinks and were settled, Tom passed out gifts one at a time so the person opening could be the focus of the group. Tom loved his new apron and donned it immediately, while Sabine put her Chinese knot hair clip in her hair.

Marinette squealed when she opened her new sewing machine from her parents and the mountain of fabric from her grandparents. Marinette almost cried when she opened Adrien’s gift to find a beautiful bracelet and ring that matched her necklace.

Adrien was overwhelmed by the Dupain’s generosity already and wasn’t expecting to get anything, so he was surprised when a box was held out to him. He received one of the Zelda games he didn’t have, which was a surprise since he thought he had them all, an old gaming system from Rolland that he had refurbished after he heard of Adrien’s love of video games, a beautiful blanket from Gina that she said came from her travels in the orient, and Marinette had made him another winter set, this time in a plum color.

When it was time for the last present, Tom walked over in front of Adrien and handed him a small box with Santa cat paper on it. Adrien opened it and looked inside before his face shot up to look from Sabine to Tom in shock.

“Is this,” Adrien started, unable to finish the question.

Marinette peered over Adrien’s shoulder to see a duplicate house key in the box. She too looked at her parents with a quizzical expression.

“It is, Adrien,” Sabine answered. “We want you to feel like this is your home, too. Now, you can come over any time, since we tend to keep the door locked because of the bakery.”

Adrien hesitantly took the key out of the box and continued to look at like it held the answers of the universe in it. They were really giving him a key to their house? He had only been dating Marinette for a few months, but was this normal?

Marinette put a hand on his arm and nodded when he looked up at her. “It’s okay, Adrien. If they gave it to you, they want you to have it.”

With her reassurance, Adrien slipped the key onto his key ring. “Thank you, Mr. Dupain. Mrs. Cheng.”

“You are welcome, dear.” Sabine walked over and laid a gentle kiss on top of his head. “Now promise us you will come by as much as you can.”

“I will,” Adrien promised, smiling brilliantly at the group.

---

“Marinette, I can’t thank you and your family enough,” Adrien spoke as he packed his bag with the clean clothes Sabine had brought up after dinner. “You guys didn’t have to do this and yet, you did and I--”

“Shh,” Marinette whispered, placing her hand to his mouth. “You don’t have to thank us. It’s the least we could do for you. You can stay anytime your father is gone since Maman and Papa gave you a key and all.”

“I still can’t believe it. I didn’t think parents did that with their teenage kids.”

“Normally, probably not, but they love you and want you to feel like you have a safe place you can come to where you don’t have to be Adrien Agreste, teen model, and all-around perfect guy. You can be just Adrien, the pun-loving dork.”

“As long as I can be your pun-loving dork,” Adrien grinned as he pulled her close and brushed her lips with his.

Marinette broke from the kiss when the end for air became too great. “Yes, you can be my pun-loving dork.”

Adrien knew that tomorrow Viktor would pick him up and he would head back to his dull, hectic routine. However, tonight, at this moment, he was still free to do as he wanted. He leaned in and kissed Marinette again, relishing the way her lips and body molded to his.

“One more movie night?” He asked as they separated.

“I’ll get the fort started if you want to pick a movie.”

After a few minutes, they were curled up in blankets, Adrien sitting up against the chaise with Marinette sitting in front of him, watching The Grinch. They continued to watch movies late into the night, neither wanting to go to sleep and let this day end.

#miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fluff

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min-minn · 5 years

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Symphony - Chapter Four

A03

Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, tenor prodigy and top student at the Salchow Institute of Music, is looking for an accompanist.

And word around campus is that Yakov Feltsman, Head of Music and conductor of the prestigious Institute Band, is looking for new members.

Yuuri Katsuki is just looking to survive his next Piano recital

The Yuri on CONCERT Music School AU that we all deserve

Pairings: Viktor Nikiforov/ Yuuri Katsuki

Rating: Teen And Up

Content Warning: Anxiety

A/N:

Like, sometimes I catch myself writing about Yuuri and I see him get hurt and it's like "WH O HAS HA R MED MY BA BY??" and then I realise. Oh. It me.

I couldn't stop listening to this while I was writing, it just fit somehow. Poor Yuuri. I can genuinely feel myself breaking my own heart WOOOO

But it's okay, there's some good shit on its way. The Viktuuri train is pulling into the station and ho boy is there some juicy stuff comin ("eventual smut" tag, I'm lookin at you, baby).

Also I've decided to set up a twitter that's pure YOI garbage. If anyone has any questions/ prompts/ just wants to fuckin yeet into my dms, then feel free to visit me there.

And, as always, the kudos and comments leave me breathless. This fandom is fast becoming one of my favourites and you guys are far too kind <3

Much waiting-for-ICE-Adolescence-like-a-gremlin love,

- Min

To say that Yuuri was nervous was an understatement.

The new drummer – Otabek, Yuuri soon learned – was stoic in the extreme. He seemed to only have one facial expression and responded with clipped sentences and one-word answers that left Yuuri feeling desperately anxious. If it weren’t for Phichit and Viktor’s cheery dismissal of his otherwise cold personality, Yuuri was certain he would have had a nervous breakdown by now.

He still couldn’t tell if the drummer was even willing to practice with them. When Yuuri had managed to stammer out a “Thank you for drumming for us!” the other man had simply replied; “Sure,” looking him directly in the eyes with absolutely zero emotion and setting Yuuri’s teeth on edge.

And whirling in the back of Yuuri’s mind was the constant reminder that this man was Viktor’s friend.

Viktor seemed to navigate Otabek’s apathy with ease – slotting him into their little trio and running him through the work they’d done so far. Yuuri couldn’t help but notice Viktor’s sarcastic remarks or friendly suggestions that flowed as easy as breathing, and even though Otabek hardly responded beyond curt words or steady nods, Yuuri could tell that they were close.

He tried not to think about how tight his chest felt.

Phichit fell into the conversation seamlessly as well, picking up on jokes and nuances, laughing at all the right times. So, it didn’t take long for Yuuri to drift into a familiar silence, letting the others fill in the blanks while he willed himself into invisibility. He was subconsciously crowding himself in at the end of the piano stool, with his bag beside him as a sort of shield. The other three were all hanging off the drum set on the other side of the room, Otabek occasionally tapping the foot pedals as they talked. And talked. And talked.

Yuuri couldn’t keep up. One minute they were discussing their piece, the next sharing stories about performances, before arguing good-naturedly about a genre of music Yuuri hadn’t even heard of before. He’d tried once – once – to slot himself into the conversation, commenting on a joke about time signature. Viktor and Phichit had laughed immediately, Viktor turning to Yuuri the second he made a noise, but Otabek had looked at him with that same indifferent stare. It was enough to sew Yuuri’s lips shut for good.

And, like a pebble dropping into a pond, everything suddenly made sense.

Yuuri knew that he didn’t have to worry about Phichit – they were friends. He could trust him. Otabek was indifferent – probably loathed the fact that he had to help them practice, but he’d do it for Viktor since they were friends.

And Viktor…

The thought that Viktor was probably just being nice to Yuuri flashed through his mind, and it all clicked into place. It weighed so heavy in Yuuri’s chest that it felt like it was going to cave in.

Viktor was just being nice to him…

Viktor pitied him…

The ache only grew worse when the other Yuri showed up.

The door to the studio slammed open, walls shaking ever so slightly in response. Standing in the doorway Yuuri could see a rather short, slender man – probably no older than eighteen - blond hair hanging across his eyes under a black hoodie. He had a guitar case in his hand, the other gripping an amp, arm rolling to shrug the strap of his bag further up one shoulder. As he flicked Yuuri a steely look, Yuuri realised with a shiver that he recognised him.

“What are you looking at?” the man spat, eyes narrowing as he took a step into the room. Yuuri felt all the colour drain from his face, hands shaking ever so slightly above the piano keys in front of him. This was the guy from the café. The one who had glared at him like he was worthless.

It seemed all too obvious to Yuuri that he must have done something to upset him. Yuuri supposed he could add this man to the list of people that thoroughly despised him.

“Settle down, Yuri, that’s not how you make friends,” Viktor called cheerfully from the drums, and Yuuri had to force his heart rate to calm, reminding himself that Viktor was addressing the other Yuri. That was going to get confusing fast.

The younger man seemed to bristle at Viktor’s words, taking his eyes off Yuuri and stomping over to where Viktor was lounging.

“You owe me dinner tonight,” he said bitterly, voice just slightly too loud to be considered calm, jabbing a finger in Viktor’s direction. Yuuri could feel every nerve in his system tighten.

Viktor just laughed.

“Of course, of course,” he was smiling as cheerily as he had been with everyone else, completely ignoring the tension that all but sizzled around Yuri’s entire being. “We’ll go after practice?”

“Whatever,” Yuri threw over his shoulder as he turned. He seemed to notice that Otabek was there, and paused for a second.

“Who’s this guy?” Yuri asked, brow furrowed. Viktor sighed. “The drummer, Yuri. Obviously,” and suddenly Viktor was moving towards the piano, eyes flicking to Yuuri’s face and pulling a strange expression. Yuuri swallowed. He was hoping he’d be able to blend into the background a little more now that the room was filling up, but Viktor seemed to have other ideas.

“We’ll have to think of a new nickname, won’t we?” Viktor said softly, effortlessly resting his hand on the piano, leaning down so that he could talk to Yuuri. Just Yuuri. He seemed to be speaking in a lower voice so that the others couldn’t hear him.

All Yuuri could do was desperately gasp for air, the concept of language very distant at that moment.

“His Grandad calls him Yuratchka, but that’s too many syllables,” Viktor continued, smiling like he’d just made a joke. Oh. Because he had made a joke. Yuuri swallowed, trying to remember how to laugh. The noise came out strangled.

Viktor blinked, furrowing his brow. “Yuuri?” he asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

Yuuri could feel the panic setting in, working at the muscles in his throat until they constricted painfully. He knew meeting two new people so suddenly when he was still getting used to being around Viktor would be a lot. But he hadn’t taken into account just how much it ached to see the other man interact with them so effortlessly. And Yuuri knew, from the few moments he’d shared with Viktor, that Viktor was kind. Kind enough to take pity and try to make Yuuri feel better. Probably so kind that he’d do it even when he didn’t want to.

He had to show Viktor he was okay. Had to hold his own. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to make new friends. He could do this.

He nodded, hoping he could wrangle his face into something resembling a normal, calm human being that most definitely did not have social anxiety in the slightest.

“Fine,” he managed, voice still quavering, trying to make his throat swallow around the dry lump that had wedged itself there.

Viktor looked like he was about to question him, but Yuri suddenly piped up from over by the drums.

“Are we gonna get this shit started or what?” he asked loudly, leaning over his guitar case and pulling out an electric. It was clearly an expensive model, the fretboard inlaid with something that shimmered in the low light of the studio. Yuuri glanced down as the other man turned towards him, catching a glimpse of what looked like stickers haphazardly strewn along the bass’ front. If he weren’t so high strung, Yuuri might have laughed. Instead, he found himself counting the strings. Watching Yuri’s fingers along them. He was probably exceptionally talented, Yuuri thought distantly. He’d have to be, as Viktor’s friend.

Viktor was still leaning close to him but had turned to say something in response that Yuuri couldn’t quite hear over the rush in his ears. He was close enough that Yuuri could tell just how expensive Viktor’s loose shirt was. There was a logo on the front pocket, and the fabric looked far softer than anything Yuuri owned. Everything in the room was coming into sharp focus as the panic set Yuuri brain alight, the edges of his concentration blurring into nothing, almost like tunnel vision. As Yuuri turned toward his music, the voices around him melded into a droning buzz, while the notes stood out sharp against white paper. He glanced down to the keys, head spinning slightly as his eyes moved quickly, the shine from the lights overhead glistening on the black keys, burning the backs of Yuuri’s eyes.

If he didn’t get out of here soon, he knew everything would fall apart.

He distantly registered that Otabek had started playing, thrumming a few kicks and rolls, testing out the kit. Yuri was hooking up to an amp. Phichit was testing his reed again. Viktor trying some scales, glancing back to Yuuri with a slightly creased brow.

“Ready?”

No. Definitely not. Yuuri was the furthest thing from ready. He could barely keep straight in the piano stool.

He nodded all the same.

On Otabek’s count, they started playing.

It seemed that Otabek and Yuri already knew the piece. Knew it well. Yuuri wasn’t sure why he was surprised. They fell in sync almost immediately, picking up on the new parts, adding their own flair without anyone even asking them or cueing them in. Yuuri’s fingers felt like they were made of metal as he strained to keep up.

They made it through the first half, stopping on Viktor’s cue to arrange something new. Yuuri registered it mechanically, desperate to keep up. To keep his head above water.

They played through it again, Yuuri’s fingers all but frozen as he jammed out the chords, not bothering to add any flourishes or glissandos like he’d planned earlier. It felt like the other studio was a distant memory – like it was a film he’d watched or a story he’d read rather than something that had actually occurred that same day. The sense of the music was barely there for him, completely tuneless as he tried to concentrate on just getting through it. Just making it to the end…

Yuri suddenly stopped playing, glancing at Otabek to signal he wanted to stop. Once there was silence, he shot Yuuri a flinty look.

“Is this the guy who’s auditioning?” he called loudly, glancing away toward Viktor who had his back to the piano. Yuuri couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders seemed to tense at Yuri’s words.

“Play nice,” and Yuuri could hear Viktor’s voice, but it sounded like it was coming at him from another room. He glanced desperately to Phichit, but he was glaring daggers at Yuri instead. Yuuri winced – he could trust Phichit to stick up for him, but it was irrational. Of course Yuri would call him out – his playing was terrible.

“I—It’s okay,” he managed to squeak out, Viktor turning back to him with a worried look. “And no. I’m not,” he said simply, addressing Yuri with a weak smile. Of course he wasn’t auditioning. How could he think he’d even have a chance? It was a stupid idea – he’d been foolish to let Phichit talk him into it. The only reason he’d wanted to was to be close to Viktor…

Pathetic.

There was a strange noise that was probably Phichit trying to argue, but Yuuri was intent on staring at the piano keys, resolute, so he couldn’t quite tell if he was imagining it or not.

Yuri huffed at his hair, glancing away from Viktor awkwardly.

“I mean. You could,” he said off-handedly, looking down at his shoes. “Audition, I mean. You’re just playing so stiff.”

Yuuri tried to quiet his heart which was suddenly hammering right in his ears. He nodded, “Ah, well,” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as his chest constricted painfully. “I’m sure there are others who’d be better suited. Classical is where I’ve done all my training,” he could feel the words rolling off his tongue easily, but his brain was screaming at him. Spinning. Overloading.

There was that noise again. And suddenly Phichit was talking. What was he saying? Yuuri couldn’t tell. Because it was here. The panic attack. His heart was so loud he was certain everyone in the room could hear it. His vision blurred with each beat, tongue suddenly filling his whole mouth as it went dry.

He had to get out of here.

Everyone was talking. Talking loudly. But Viktor was just staring at him, eyes wide and mouth working like he was trying to find something to say. The panic edged closer to the surface as Yuuri realised Viktor was probably beyond embarrassed to have him there. In front of his friends. Messing everything up.

He needed to get out of here. Glancing around Viktor, desperate to avoid his gaze, Yuuri spotted Phichit watching him as he took a sip from a water bottle, Otabek and Yuri still speaking over by the drums. Phichit cocked his head, brow lifting ever so slightly. You okay?

Yuuri nodded slowly, chewing on his lower lip, but as he tried to will himself to appear normal, to appear put together, he could feel that lump in his throat burn into something far more painful. His eyes pricked with tears, and he swallowed again. Desperate.

He shook his head slowly.

“Yuuri?” a voice called from far away. Viktor. Viktor was still there. Viktor would see…

“Ah, Yuuri!” Phichit suddenly cried out, standing with his sax still slung over his shoulder, Yuri and Otabek turning to look at him. “I forgot to tell you … the landlord called earlier.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, staring after Phichit wide-eyed and desperate. Was he bailing him out? Phichit seemed to make eyes at him and Yuuri felt his heart surge. He was bailing him out. He was rescuing him.

“Was it important?” he gasped, sweat pricking at his skin, setting it on fire.

“Something about our rent,” Phichit added quickly. “I totally forgot to tell you. We should really get it sorted. Maybe you should call him?” and he was glancing at the door, nudging his head ever so slightly to try and convey the message.

Yuuri stood quickly, stool grating along the floorboards awkwardly as he did so. “Th—Thanks, Phichit,” he all but breathed, feeling everyone’s eyes on him as he started packing away his things. “Sorry guys,” he whispered, and with that he ducked his head, rushing out of the room like his life depended on it

The room was on fire. Melting all around him. The floor was lava and Yuuri’s feet were about to burn through.

He crashed into the hallway, breaking into a full-blown sprint as he made his way towards the safety of the bathrooms.

He hardly heard the sound of the studio door opening again, footsteps racing after him.

* * *

Yuuri was well acquainted with bathroom stalls. So well acquainted that, after decades of practice, his public panic attacks had become a well-memorised ritual. Run to the bathroom. Find the furthest stool from the door. Close the toilet seat. Check the lock. Pull out his headphones. Listen to music.

Wait.

The tears had already started well before he’d made it to the bathroom. As he sat on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, they flowed mercilessly, twisting his face into something ugly, falling silently down his cheeks and dripping onto the floor.

More than anything, he was angry. Angry at himself. How could he believe, in any possible reality, that Viktor would actually want to practice with him? That Viktor would want to audition with him? That Viktor, or any of his friends, or any of the people at this school, in this city, would think him worthy enough. Talented enough.

It was pathetic.

In that moment, all Yuuri could think of was his mother. He wanted to call her. He had some kind of symphony playing in his ears – he hadn’t even registered turning it on after he’d locked himself in the stall – so he had to pause it, flicking to his recent calls and quickly finding the international number for Yu-topia Katsuki. He checked the time, quickly doing the mental math that he was so used to calculating after years of living away from home.

It would be five in the morning in Hasetsu.

He chewed his lower lip. Was it too early? Was it stupid, calling his mother from a bathroom stall halfway across the world just because he was having a panic attack? He knew his mother wouldn’t mind – it had been a long time since he’d called her, so she’d be thrilled to hear from him. But what if he woke her? What if he couldn’t even speak to her properly through the tears? What if—

“Yuuri?”

A voice. Someone was in the bathroom with him. Yuuri all but dropped his phone as he scrambled to lift his feet off the ground and onto the toilet seat, hiding as best he could. Screwing his eyes shut tight, he hoped beyond hope that whoever it was hadn’t heard him, though the echoing crash of his phone hitting the linoleum floor had probably given him away.

“Yuuri, are you alright?”

And Yuuri knew that voice.

Viktor.

Viktor had followed him.

The panic heightened into a painful crescendo, tears cascading down his face, sobs sticking in his throat, making it burn. He was going to be exposed. He’d lied. Phichit had lied. They’d made up a story. Viktor was going to find out…

He hiccupped a sob, stuffing his hands over his mouth all too late. The sound was already out, echoing through the little bathroom damningly. He could almost hear Viktor’s shock in the silence that followed.

“Yuuri…” he said again, voice soft. Pitying. There were footsteps. A shadow under the door. Yuuri glared up, certain that Viktor was standing just beyond the stall.

“I’m sorry about Yuri,” Viktor said in a small voice, the words oddly unsure. “He’s not very good with people.”

Yuuri would have laughed if he weren’t so focussed on trying not to cry. If only Viktor knew…

“Don’t let him discourage you,” Viktor said suddenly, the door to the stall shaking ever so slightly as something hit it. His hand? Was Viktor trying to get in? Was he angry? Yuuri tucked his legs up higher on the seat.

“Ah, I’m not too good at this sort of thing,” and Viktor’s voice sounded despondent. What did he mean? Did people crying in front of him make him feel uncomfortable? Did it annoy him? The whole scenario set Yuuri’s head into a spin – he should be mad at him. Mad at Phichit, too. They’d lied about the landlord thing. Not to mention the fact that Yuuri had interrupted their practice. Had probably ruined their practice entirely.

Yuuri had to make it right.

“I know some—” his voice cut out as another sob threatened to choke him, and he cleared his throat, begging it to work for him. “I know some good pianists. Jazz ones.”

There was silence on the other side of the door.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to help with your audition,” and his voice was suddenly a whisper. His ribcage felt like it was going to collapse and crush his lungs, the ache in his chest twisting into a painful throb. He clutched at it, doubling over as his eyes blurred with fresh tears.

Because Yuuri wanted to audition. He wanted to practice with Viktor. He craved that sense of home and comfort and rightness. Loved that he got along with Phichit so well. Loved that he smiled at Yuuri so easily. Loved…

But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be, no matter how much Phichit tried to convince him otherwise. Compared to people like Yuri or Otabek, he was nothing. Just another classical pianist to add to the pile. Not to mention the fact that there were far superior pianists out there. Far superior. New ones were filing into SIM every day.

He was replaceable.

Viktor spoke softly from beyond the door; “Yuuri, what do you—”

“I can arrange it all. Please, don’t worry,” Yuuri cut him off, sure that Viktor was going to complain about having to find a new pianist himself. Yuuri could list off at least four jazz pianists who’d be more than happy to help, some of which were already thinking of auditioning for the Institute Band.

Desperate to right his wrongs, Yuuri flicked through his contacts again to find Kenjirou’s number. Yuuri knew the younger student well from various tutorials and recitals. He’d be the perfect fit.

“Yuuri, please,” the voice on the other side sounded desperate. Strained. Yuuri filtered the sound through his mind, deciding that Viktor must be angry in some way.

“I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time already,” and Yuuri found he was choking out a nervous laugh, even as the tears ran down his cheeks and hung on his chin. He only hoped it was convincing enough. Hoped Viktor wouldn’t be too mad with him afterwards.

“You’re…” Viktor’s voice sounded small, and Yuuri watched as the shadows at the base of the door shuffled slightly. “You’re sure you don’t want to audition?”

“Absolutely,” and Yuuri coughed out another laugh, desperate to convince the man beyond the door. Desperate to convince him he was normal. Put together. Sane…

Because the tears were still flowing and Yuuri wasn’t sure when they’d stop.

The silence felt suffocating.

Yuuri was about to say something when he heard the sound of Viktor clearing his throat. “If you’re sure,” came the curt reply, and suddenly the shadows were moving, heeled shoes tapping on the floor as Viktor left. Yuuri winced slightly as the main door slammed, echoing painfully through the bathroom.

Threading his hands into his hair, Yuuri curled in on himself, letting the sobs wrack him completely. Viktor was mad. Viktor hated him.

Yuuri was just glad he’d put a stop to things before they’d gotten out of control.

* * *

Safe in his usual pyjamas, Phichit was curled up in his bed with a laptop balancing on his knee, can of beer in hand, eyes flicking across the screen in concentration.

It had taken a good hour of convincing to get Yuuri to even leave the bathroom stall, let alone come home with him. He’d expected as much. This was hardly Phichit’s first Yuuri Katsuki rodeo. Their friendship had begun in a bathroom stall, after all. Yuuri mid panic attack, Phichit drunk out of his mind. He smiled at the memory. He let himself reminisce for a moment, before scrambling back to concentrating on the video editing software in front of him.

Phichit often edited videos in his spare time – mainly memes, though he occasionally did more professional videos for various friends and musicians. One of his videos was even used at the last SIM showcase. But somehow, despite the experience – despite all the perfectly edited memes that had earnt him relative social media fame - editing this video was proving rather difficult.

Part of it was due to the fact that he felt so guilty, especially after Yuuri’s breakdown today. They’d spoken a little, once Phichit had managed to coax Yuuri out with the promise of katsudon at their favourite Japanese place. On him. He winced. Payday couldn’t come soon enough – after forking out for a collector’s edition of a game he’d been obsessed with, Phichit could hardly afford to shout Yuuri a roll of sushi let alone an extra-large katsudon. But he managed to shrug off the concern – it was for a good cause after all.

Yuuri had spoken about his thoughts when they were on the bus home, though Phichit hadn’t managed to get through to him like he usually could. He just wouldn’t believe him. He was convinced Viktor didn’t want to audition with him, caught up in the whirlwind of self-doubt and fear. Despite the fact, Phichit noted to himself as he took another sip of beer - that Viktor had gone to such lengths to make it happen. Had bent over backwards to accommodate their practice, roping in none other than Otabek Altin, drummer extraordinaire, and Yuri Plisetsky, punk rock god and Viktor’s own cousin. Had spent the other night texting Phichit desperately after Phichit had ninja’d his number from Yuuri’s phone, asking about Yuuri’s favourite songs. His favourite bands. His favourite colour for God’s sake.

He took another swig of his beer, reaching for his phone and glancing at the lock screen with a mental wince. It was full of texts from Viktor, of course. Lots of question marks. Lots of desperate kaomoji.

He wondered if Yuuri’s phone was full of texts too. The idiot wouldn’t reply, of course. And Viktor was too much of a ditz to say the right thing. Though something about Viktor’s face after he’d returned from the bathroom told Phichit he wouldn’t have sent anything. He’d chewed the other Yuri out when he returned to the studio, blaming the whole thing on him. Phichit had to give a lacklustre explanation to everyone as well. Yuuri’s dog had passed away a few months ago. He was homesick. Nervous around new people. But to Viktor, Yuuri could do no wrong, so the other Yuri had gotten an earful. Phichit giggled around another mouthful of beer. He had to admit it was satisfying to see the somewhat famous guitarist on the receiving end of a lecture.

Phichit glanced back to the computer screen. He still had a lot of work to do. There was a whole bunch of footage of them practicing the Muse song that he didn’t want to include, a bunch at the beginning while he’d been setting up the camera. But in the middle was a Yuuri Katsuki Chopin feast and he’d be damned if he didn’t do it justice.

He thanked his past self for deciding to do this – thanked Minako for suggesting it in the first place. He’d always have faith in Yuuri, but he knew the guy too well to believe he’d audition just like that. Something was bound to send him running, not to mention he was already stressed to the nines about the whole Lilia-being-his-supervisor thing.

Phichit hated himself for sneaking around like this – hated that he was being so underhand with his best friend. But at the same time, he knew it was the right thing to do in a roundabout way. Even from the raw footage, anyone could tell that Yuuri was one of the best pianists at SIM. Probably on his way to being top in the city.

Phichit fast-forwarded to where his rendition of the Ravel piece began, watching Yuuri bend and sway with the music, completely enraptured.

This was the Yuuri he knew well. The Yuuri that hid behind all the tears and self-doubt. The Yuuri he knew Viktor could see as clear as day.

And if he had to sneak a recording of him to Yakov to prove it to him, then that was exactly what Phichit was going to do.

#yoi #yuri on ice #fan fiction #minminnsfics #fics #ao3 #yuuri #yurio #phichit #otabek #viktor #viktuuri #fluff #anxiety #panic attack #music #music school au #alternate universe #au #writing

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shemakesmeforget · 6 years

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25 fics to pick you up

Humor, crack not crack, romcom fics for @cuttlemefishwrites and y’all. I tried to make this list short, I SWEAR idk ENJOY!! Also you can check some other fic recs by moi here, here and here.

(i'm) the boy you'd die for by jenmishe

Canonverse, Rated T, 6K

v-nikiforov ✓

[Video: A short clip where Victor is laying dramatically on the couch with miserable expression. “Heartbreaker” by Marina and the Diamonds is playing.]

13,481 likes

v-nikiforov✓ Am I the another one? (((

vitYASS victor,,,, honey,,,, i lvoe you so much,,,, but WHY are you like this.

red-blue-gay but??? does that mean that somebody has broken victor’s heart???? I DON'T UNDERSTAND

christophe-gc ✓ You’re ridiculous.

starsaregay But who recorded it?? Makkachin???

vityathebabe user @starsaregay asking the real question.

--- The adventures of Yuuri "Heartbreaker" Katsuki, or: how Yuuri became known as a cold player full of himself who doesn't care about anyone. (Hint: it's an anxiety and obliviousness.)

• ADORE!!! oblivious heartbreaker Yuuri + social media fic. The best description is actually one of the tags: everyone is in love with Yuuri: the fic.

He Should Know by Lady_Ganesh

Past Yuuri/Chris, Canonverse, Rated T, 2K

A public service announcement Chris and Yuuri made for the Sochi Olympics comes to light.

• HI HI this speaks to me directly: Viktor is a dork and jealous and Yuuri is precious.... I just love this so much.

Master Plans by Qwertzu (@qwertzu824)

Canonverse ish, Rated T, 17K

Who wouldn't want to date Yuuri and/or Viktor? Nobody is immune to their charm - including random strangers, who unfortunately have no idea the two are happily married and totally smitten with each other...

• This series!!! outsider pov, identity reveal, and the last installment!!!!! I die. You'll laugh and you’ll feel sorry for these people at the same time.

The Way to Life and Love is a Curved Trajectory by crossroadswrite (@crossroadswrite)

Canonverse, Rated T, 5K

“Do you know Katsuki Yuuri?” Victor asks Chris, two minutes later, when he finally manages to convince himself to stop looking at the dip of Katsuki’s back and his powerful thighs in those tight Mizuno track pants, and the way his hands are poised in the air mid-skate, and his slicked back hair and brown eyes and flushed cheeks.

Christophe hums into the phone in a way that suggests he not only knows Katsuki Yuuri but he’s acquainted with him. Chris’ version of acquaintance is very physical and usually involves a healthy amount of groping. “Don’t you?”

“He’s Japan’s Ace,” Victor says, trying to rack his brain for more information. “His step sequence is good?”

Chris hums again. “You’re not that oblivious that you haven’t heard of Unfairly Beautiful Yuuri.”

“Who?”

(Or, the one where Victor falls - literally and then figuratively - for Yuuri. Also something about a Best Ass Poll that is way more official than it should be.)

• Alternate first meeting <3<3<3 you have it all: social media, pining and THAT ASS. I would say 12/10 would read again, but I have already, a bunch of times.

What you should know about dating a man with children by SassySalchow (diedraechin) (@diedraechin)

Canonverse, Rated G, 2K

Based off a tumblr drabble prompt and then grew too big...

"AU scenario where the skaters mistake the triplets for Yuuri's kids when they first meet him, possibly when he brings them to the skater-only area as a b-day treat, or something? (Kudos if you can work in jealous!Victor somehow, but the skaters having a fun reaction would be A+, tbh. Would be lovely if you could include Chris and/or Yurio :D )

• Ahhhhhh my quick fix for whenever I’m feeling down, this Viktor is such a dork and extra, I love him.

5 times Viktor encountered culture shock in Hasetsu + 1 time Yuuri did by forochel (@forochel)

Canonverse, Rated T, 3K

this fic ... basically does what it says on the tin.

• I adore not so smooth Viktor in an environment he can't control (or at least do some research lol), good stuff.

Five Times Chris's Dating Advice Was Ignored By Russian Skaters by liliths

Canonverse, Rated T, 3K

—and one time it wasn't.

Christophe Giacometti. Twenty-five. Cat lover, chocolate eater. Professional Swiss figure skater and confirmed Grand Prix finalist. Running an unofficial dating advice ring for Russian skaters who don't listen to him to begin with. How did his life come to this?

Chris-centric, in which he is done with literally everyone. Except the dog.

• Chris is heaven sent and deserves a medal for dealing with awkward russian skaters.

just like me they long to be by sparklespiff (@todaythesamesky)

Canonverse, Rated T, 3K

"Haven't you noticed that Yuuri gets everything he wants?"

"Everything that's in somebody else's power to give him," Mari says, before Victor can bring up last year's GPF. "He's not magic, just pretty."

"But it's like magic. My theory is that it's because he's sneaky beautiful, so you're not expecting it, and then, under all that stuff, whoa! Gorgeous. And it's too late to save yourself."

"Stuff?" Victor keeps smiling but makes his voice cold, the way he does when reporters overstep. His Yuuri doesn't have stuff. Everything about him is beautiful.

or:

Yuuri lives in a Beautiful Person Bubble. It's Victor's responsibility to make sure he never finds out.

• Again with oblivious heartbreaker Yuuri, this is ridiculously funny. Also, Mari and Phichit??? A++

The Boyfriend Paradox by japansace (@japansace)

Canonverse, Rated T, 3K

For some inexplicable reason, Yuuri speaks Russian.

Now, as everyone knows, there are only two viable reasons why anyone ever learns a foreign language:

1. For school. 2. To impress a foreign love interest.

And Victor can’t quite bring himself to believe that Yuuri would be at all studious enough to hunt down Russian classes in Detroit of all places.

(Or: Victor gets jealous of a boyfriend that doesn’t exist.)

• We all think Yuuri is dense and oblivious but like Viktor is just????? SO BLIND???? it’s adorable.

The Thirst Trap by CharmingMonsters

Canonverse, Rated M, 12K (WIP)

Victor Nikiforov reads Thirst Tweets for a Buzzfeed video; Yuuri is anonymously quoted and wants to die. Phichit makes sure everyone is properly hydrated.

• Awkward meet cute, Yuuri the fanboy, sad pre Yuuri Viktor, hilarious but the feels omg

Giacometti & Co. by Anna (arctic_grey) (@finleighsaid)

Past Viktor/Chris, Past Yuuri/Chris, Canonverse, Rated M, 7K

Against his shoulder and into the fabric of his t-shirt, Yuuri mumbled, “HaveyoueversleptwithChris?”

He choked on his breath. Oh. Uh. “Errrr…” His mind raced. “A little?”

aka the fic where both Viktor and Yuuri have slept with Chris.

• Amazing!! I owe this fic so much! like really, this is cute, fun and jealous Viktor is the cherry on top.

The Early, Awkward Years by Nomanono (@nomanono)

Viktor/Chris, Canonverse, Rated E, 6K

Victor Nikiforov wasn't always smooth and suave. His singular focus on skating created a pronounced inability to people, and Chris winds up bearing the brunt of his sexual incompetence.

• This is beyond funny, I had to stop reading 3 times to properly laugh. Inexperienced, not a playboy Viktor is the best best and Chris tries so hard, poor thing.

it's like you're photoshopped by Metis_Ink

Actors AU, Rated T, 10K

Not-So-Local Ex-Dancer Upsets Coworkers by Failing to Communicate with Celebrity Castmate, details at eleven.

//Yuuri just wants to retire already.

• The actual movie is amazing? the author literally wrote an entire musical for this fic, mad respect. And at some point I cried, legit tears, because I was laughing so hard.

Pinning and Pining by Multiple_Universes (@witharthurkirkland)

Porn actors AU, Rated E, 51K

Victor starts his career as a porn star, working for a studio that has a somewhat… artistic approach to the whole genre. But that’s not the problem. The problem is: he can’t find a way to ask his hot co-star to be his boyfriend.

An AU where Victor and Yuuri are both porn stars who, despite all the hot sex filmed for a ton of movies, still end up in a situation where Yuuri is oblivious and Victor is pining away.

• The porn movies are so cheesy and bad but like artistic so you just laugh and laugh. Viktor is such a softie and there’s so much unresolved romantic tension, a big fave.

though the stars walk backward by alykapedia (@alykapediaaa)

Space AU, Rated T, 8K

“Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.” - E.E. Cummings

Yuuri's only ever wanted to send a message out into the great vastness of space, maybe witness First Contact during his lifetime. He gets his wish. And then some.

• Alien viktor!!! an intergalactic booty call!!! fantastic!

Much Ado About Something by eternalsunshine13, Skowronek (@eternalsunshine13, @kaja-skowronek)

Space AU, Rated T, 33K

By day, Victor Nikiforov is the head of European operations for LearX, a company on the forefront of private space travel. By night, he is makka-baby on Tumblr, a prominent figure in the small but passionate poodle fandom.

By day, Yuuri Katsuki runs F.O.O.L., a subsidiary of Katsuki Enterprises, whose stated goal is to bring LearX down one lawsuit after another. By night, he’s oodlesofpoodles, an active member of the poodle fandom and possibly makka-baby’s biggest fan.

By day, they duke it out in court. By night, they become friends—and maybe something more—as they fall for each other one Tumblr message at a time.

Or: a romantic comedy starring two idiots in love, the Katsuki family, the mothers Nikiforov, the husbands Chulanont-Giacometti, two doggos, six hamsters, one Yurio, and many, many schemes to get our favorite lovebirds together.

• Do they really hate each other?? are they falling in love?? is the tumblr app gonna crash all the damn time? I won't tell, you gotta read this.

The Vastness of Space by shysweetthing (@shysweetthing)

Space AU, Rated E, 16K

As chief communications officer on board the Interstellar Alliance Fleet’s Star Ship Victory, Yuuri doesn’t have to think about who he actually is on his home planet. He just has to listen to his captain, do his job, and…not fall in love with his best friend, the ship’s science officer, Victor Nikiforov.

Well. Two out of three’s not bad.

Then his mother calls with the worst possible news: She, the Empress of New Nihon, has arranged Yuuri’s marriage. There’s only one thing Yuuri can do: Fake a boyfriend, and fake one fast. Who better/worse to play that role than the friend he wishes was more? What can go wrong? It’s not like Yuuri can fall more in love...

• Mutual pining, fake dating and arranged marriage AND SPACE UGHHH all my weak spots. So sweet and good and the writing is on point, i cry.

The Unknown Unknown by opalish

Superpowers AU, Rated T, 7K

Yuuri never meant to become a supervillain. These things just happen to him.

• One of the funniest fics I’ve ever read, the author has the best comic timing and this fic is beyond me like I practically laughed the whole time.

Dr. Shiny and the Case of the Beautiful Man by ShatteredPrism (@etherealalchemist)

Doctors AU, not rated, 6K

There are about five things that Victor, in this very moment, is absolutely sure of.

1. The spawns of satan are here 2. they are not accompanied by their angel of a mother 3. they are with the most beautiful man he's ever seen 4. his scrubs are wet from where he'd dropped water on himself 5. and Victor is very, very gay.

Emphasis on point five, with a side of cupid's arrow and "ba-dum ba-dum" on a plate.

Because he is Very Gay, and not only is he Very Gay but he is also Hopelessly Attracted to a man who is undoubtedly Very Straight and very Unavailable and is perhaps the Most Beautiful Man Victor has ever seen.

---

in which Victor is a doctor, Yuuri is a godfather, and Yuri just wants some peace and quiet and a larger stash of lollipops.

• So pure and fun and Viktor is so so so extra.

pass that dutch by kiaronna (@kiaronna)

High School/Mean Girls AU, Rated T, 5K

Maybe Viktor shouldn't have watched Mean Girls before he started his first day of high school in the United States, but he can't help it if he is suddenly inducted into his high school's very fashionable, Instagram-obsessed royalty. He can't help falling in love with the cute soccer player in his literature class, either. Even if he's supposed to be off limits.

• This captures the feel of the movie just right and Viktor is a mess, it’s just so cute.

esnake artist by sizhu (@sizhu)

Neighbors AU, Rated T, 1K

Yuuri meets the disarmingly attractive neighbor from upstairs, courtesy of Phichit forgetting to feed their scale baby.

Snakes like to go on adventures, too.

• Sassy Yuuri defending his reptile baby, a blessing.

all the types of dating by igneousbitch (@makkachinning)

Geology AU, Rated E, 8K

The only type of dating geologists are good at is radioactive carbon-dating. The rest goes completely over their heads.

(Viktor and Yuuri are geology professors leading a field course in Western Australia. Chaos ensues.)

Alfred shifts awkwardly. Looks at Viktor and Yuuri, and asks, “So, uh. Are you guys dating?”

Yuuri greatly misunderstands, and Viktor panics.

Of course we are, Yuuri says. Rather critically, he thinks to himself: why else would he be here, in the scorching, godforsaken heat, surrounded by a hundred kilos of rock, if not for the purpose of radiometric dating?

• I have no idea about geology and I still enjoyed this AU a lot, they’re pining so hard and ugh friends to lovers, my kryptonite.

Unconventional by so_shhy

Fandom AU, Rated M, 4K

After freezing up in front of his idol at a comic con panel, Yuuri decides that he needs an awful lot of alcohol to get over the embarrassment. It is a decision he will regret.

The fandom AU I can’t believe I wrote, featuring movie star!Victor Nikiforov and fanfic author!Yuuri Katsuki.

• So much second hand embarrassment but in a fun way, just brilliant.

If you can't take the heat... by mtothedestiel (@summersteve)

Reality show/Chef AU, not rated, 81K (WIP)

Stay tuned, coming up next it's Top Chef: International! Join thirteen chefs from around the globe as they battle it out for glory and prizes in the one and only New York City (and share all their innermost thoughts along the way!) Who will emerge victorious, and who will burn out?? Heartwarming triumphs, devastating eliminations, and even ~forbidden romance~ are all coming your way on this showstopping season of Top Chef!

• The script format threw me off for some time until I decided to read it and omg?? what a fool I’ve been for so long!!! this is incredible and well researched and makes me hungry all the damn time.

Coming Home Again by carafin (@carafinn)

Roommates AU, Rated T, 10K

Yuuri, given to periodic bouts of paranoia, would often wonder if Viktor is, in fact, a Russian drug lord on the loose, seeking refuge in a nondescript town in America. This would explain a manner of things: his evasiveness whenever probed about his job; the way he’d unpredictably throw out incisive, thoughtful commentary about the morning news over breakfast; his expensive tastes in shirts, watches, and wallets alike; why he’d want to stay here with Yuuri, of all places, when the contents his wardrobe alone could probably afford him a year-long stay at any condominium of his choice in the trendiest part of town.

And then he goes on to discover that Viktor actually has a premium account on club penguin, and that his five penguins are named Peanut Wigglebutt, Luke skyhopper, Zing Zing, Otto Von Longdong, and Mooshoo Vegetable, and beats the idea to death in his head.

• High quality hyper realistic amazing Yuuri the medical student being a mess, Viktor being a mystery but still a dork. Cute romance!!

#yuri on ice #fic rec #yoi fic rec #it's incredibly difficult to not rec z her own stuff #chel fic recs

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imatrisarahtops · 5 years

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25. “I’m mad at you because I love you!”

One of the things that Viktor so admired about Yuuri was his range of emotion. After all, it was his ability to show that on the ice, to do what Viktor couldn’t with that skating routine that inspired him to fly from Russia to Japan in the first place.

Throughout the entirety of the Grand Prix series, Viktor witnessed Yuuri’s vast range of feelings first hand. He had seen what it was like when he was embarrassed, determined, defeated, and apathetic. He experienced his anxiety, his tension, his insecurity, and his passion. He watched as Yuuri’s heart broke, and watched as he put it back together. He’d also seen his satisfaction and sense of accomplishment, his deeply buried pride when he managed to succeed.

But this…

Viktor stood against the barrier, elbows propped against it as he leaned forward, watching the other man skate. Not long after, Yuri joined him, scowl on his face.

“What did you do to piss off Katsudon so badly?” he demanded, glaring at the older man.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Why are you assuming I did something?”

Yuri scoffed. “Because it’s you,” he said flatly. “I’ve seen Yakov give you that look enough times to know when you fucked up.”

Despite the situation, Viktor couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from quirking up into the tiniest bit of a smile. Still, he didn’t respond as he continued to watch Yuuri skate. The man fell on the ice but didn’t stop, getting back to his feet and continuing the routine, even with his eyebrows knit together.

Oh, yes, he was definitely angry. And Viktor could easily recognize that the man’s anger was directed toward him. But despite those cases with Yakov, when he was well aware of the way he was frustrating his coach, he couldn’t pinpoint what it was that he’d done to upset Yuuri.

“You better fix it,” Yuri said.

Again, Viktor struggled not to smile at the comment. Despite what he’d say, it had become even clearer that Yuri was fond of Yuuri, especially since he’d returned with them to Russia. The way he joined them for dinner several times a week, despite protests and arguments—even the way that he stood up for Yuuri in times like these. Between those moments and the blossoming friendship with Otabek Altin, he could truly see Yuri growing up. It made Viktor happy that the boy could see other skaters as something more than simply competitors.

Yuuri’s time on the ice switched over to Mila’s, and suddenly the Japanese skater was coming off the rink, walking right past Viktor as though the man wasn’t even there. He sighed.

“I’m working on it,” he told Yuri, ruffling the boy’s hair. He squawked, shouting after Viktor, but again the man just smiled as he followed after Yuuri.

It wasn’t until they were finally back at Viktor’s apartment, when he sat on the couch and Yuuri merely marched past him, seemingly determined to continue ignoring him, that he called out.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so upset with me?”

Yuuri froze, shoulders tensing. But instead of yelling, which Viktor half-expected (from experience with the other people he tended to make angry, such as Yakov like Yuri pointed out), he simply pushed his glasses up on his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes tightly and sighed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If you’re this upset with me, of course it does,” Viktor responded, frowning at him. “Please. Let me know so I can fix it, Yuuri,” he urged.

Yuuri turned to him, folding his arms over his chest and looking Viktor over for a long moment. It was as though he was debating the benefits of actually telling him. After a moment, he sighed again, glancing away. “You’re pushing yourself way too hard,” he said, tone clipped.

“Yuuri…"

“You’ve already had a couple of bad falls in practice. It’s only a matter of time before you really hurt yourself,” Yuuri persisted. “You joked about catching up, and I understand but… what’s the point if you end up hurting yourself so badly you can’t get back on the ice? If you keep doing this, you’re going to end up unable to skate at Worlds anyway. It won’t matter.”

Viktor frowned. He opened his mouth to argue, but again Yuuri cut across him.

“When you first started coaching me, you said that you always wanted to be able to surprise everyone watching,” he said. “That that was the most important thing about your skating.”

Viktor nodded. He still stood by that sentiment.

But Yuuri shook his head. “Nobody cares about how you’ll ‘surprise the audience’, Viktor,” he said. “People love watching you because it’s you. It doesn’t matter what your routine is, the way you perform it is what’s amazing. You make everything look so effortless and so beautiful. It has nothing to do with doing something unexpected. You have no idea how many times I watched your same skates over and over when you made your senior debut. I learned those routines by heart. It had nothing to do with being surprised, it had everything to do with you.”

Viktor blinked at him. He pushed himself up from his seat, making his way to the other man and wrapping his arms around him. With a sigh, Yuuri let his head fall to his shoulder.

“I’m mad at you because I love you,” Yuuri said quietly, though it sounded a lot less angry and more deflated, as though keeping up his irritation was exhausting. “I love your skating, and watching you skate. And I’ve seen the way you watch everyone on the rink—I know you love it too. If you keep at it with the rate you’re going, you’ll lose that.”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor murmured. “Really.” He let his hand fall against the back of Yuuri’s head, combing through his hair.

“I know you’re a competitor and I understand what it’s like,” Yuuri said. “I know there have been plenty of times I didn’t listen to you and take it easy. But I don’t want you to push yourself too hard. I can’t stand seeing you hurt.”

“Hmm, I understand the feeling,” Viktor said. With that, Yuuri finally reached up, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s waist. “I promise I’ll try harder. Or… try less hard.”

Yuuri chuckled softly. “You’re not going to,” he said with a sigh.

“Then you have permission to drag me off the ice when you think I’m doing it,” Viktor told him, giving him a squeeze.

“Yurio would probably manage that better.”

“He does not have my permission.”

“Fair enough.” Yuuri sighed, pressing his cheek against Viktor’s shoulder. Again, Viktor tightened his grip a little instinctively. “Can we just stay like this for a bit?” he asked quietly.

Viktor smiled, pressing a kiss to the man’s hair. “Anything you want."

Dialogue Prompts

#viktuuri #viktor nikiforov #katsuki yuuri #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #yuri plisetsky #yurio #yoi #yoi fic #fanfic #fan fiction #yuri on ice #prompts #ask #reply #menchieholo101 #i wrote the entire thing on my lunch break and honestly feel kinda proud

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askdragonbladetalon · 6 years

Note

rises from the abyss to send this in: JAEGER

[This got long! EzLux, TaLuz, TalEz, EzTaLux.]Against the white sheets, Ezreal’s skin looks more golden than ever but he’s still too pale. He’s paler than the last time Lux saw him and it’s not only his condition that accounts for the pallor. He’s been spending too much time indoors, working on the neural link with Talon and practicing simulations instead of exploring.She listens to the beeping of the machines and watches the steady rise-fall of his chest. The charts before her tell her more than Talon could so she tunes out his awkward words and focuses on the information she is not supposed to have.When Talon’s voice trails off, she looks up. He’s paler too, shadows circling darkly under his eyes, and his hair is in a limp ponytail pulled back at the base of his neck. The cast on his arm is glaringly white against his light brown skin. The thin hospital gown looks comical on him and he carries the IV stand with him as if it’s an impromptu weapon instead of the only thing keeping him from screaming in pain.“Go back to bed,” she says, sliding the charts back into the pocket at the foot of the bed. “It’ll be months before he wakes.”There are people who would think her cold for not feigning optimism, who would demand she deliver her news with a smile and a cheery attitude. There are expectations of Crownguards, now more than ever with the Kaiju overturning so much of the world.Talon simply nods and folds his arms over the side of Ezreal’s bed, resting his forehead against the mattress.“Too tired to walk back right now,” he says, voice muffled. “I’ll wait here until I can move.”“The nurses threatened to handcuff you to your bed if you kept leaving,” Lux reminds him as she sits down in the other chair. “Like I can’t pick locks,” Talon huffs. She regards the top of his head silently and Ezreal, unsmiling and still, lies between them.

“When Talon’s healed, I’ll be his new co-pilot,” Lux tells Viktor. Viktor doesn’t look up from his display, metal fingers plugged directly into the computer’s interface. “There are tests for compatibility. Ezreal was his top match - and you aren’t his second match.”“I know,” Lux says, hands flat on his desk. “And I’ll pass them. But I want you to start getting the Jaeger ready for us now.” She codeswitches effortlessly, speaking his language instead. “Talon is a known unit and proven pilot. Arcane Shadow is half his creation, half Ezreal’s. You will need to adjust the half that is Ezreal’s for his new pilot and if you know in advance who that will be, you will have a headstart on the changes to the Jaeger which will allow it to be operational sooner. Can you afford the delay?”“And if you two aren’t drift-compatible?” Viktor’s lit-up eyes glow in her direction, mask expressionless.“We will be,” Lux says, words clipped.“And I’m supposed to take that on faith?” He sneers the word ‘faith’ as if it’s the most obscene of concepts, a violation so vile that he can hardly bear to speak of it, and Lux smiles. He’s walked right into her trap.“No. You’re supposed to trust my calculations. Talon has been drifting with Ezreal for months now. Ezreal was in Talon’s mind, screaming and hurt, during the long trip back to shore when Arcane Shadow went down. Your initial data is flawed – whomever Talon was compatible with before he had Ezreal in his mind is no longer whom he is compatible with. Anyone drifting with Talon now will have to drift with Ezreal’s ghost as well.” She leans forwards just a little, blond hair swinging over her shoulders and framing her face with gold. “Don’t look at Talon’s top matches. Cross-compare his top matches with Ezreal’s and look at the matches they have in common. Look who is at the top of that list.”The display flashes, dividing into two columns of bronze, and names scroll quickly past. When a name lit up in red shows in both columns, Viktor looks back up at her. He doesn’t argue any further, just gives a brisk nod; his own pride has never mattered as much as being right.“What changes do you have in mind for Arcane Shadow?” Viktor asks and Lux makes herself smile again as she pulls out a sheet of paper from her backpack.“Here. And her name is now Shadow Spark.” Arcane was gone and Shadow was moved into first place because Talon had been here before Lux had. She planned the name out as meticulously as everything else.

When they drift, Talon’s mind slides against hers like metal against a sharpening stone. It’s not the easy fluidity that comes when siblings drift, the drift she is used to from her practice drifts with Garen. It’s a hard pressure, two sets of memories in Talon’s minds threading into their shared consciousness.{through Ezreal’s eyes, she is beautiful, she is blinding, she is the sun and she is summer and she is a perfect peerless cloudless sky. he sees her and he loves her and he doesn’t see her at all because goddesses have no flaws and he----looks at her with suspicion, this Demacian girl with the bright smile and even brighter eyes, this woman who wields her smile like a scythe, who cuts people down with words and sparks magic from nails bitten down to the quick, Talon knows better than to believe beauty is goodness and----she sees a genius boy who grew up all alone, she sees an adventurer who takes himself to the spaces that other humans vacated so long ago, she sees someone who is so much more vulnerable than he will ever understand, someone who----looks at her and sees the siren skinned, sees the danger that Demacia made her into, a man with blood eyes and bloodied hands, someone who will not be swayed by her smile and who will always see the worst of her, the----killer, assassin, someone who loves blades better than people, the epitome of Noxus, some boy who slaughtered his way out of the gutters, his co-pilot, his drift-compatible partner, a man with memories of torture and trauma----looks at this golden boy, this summer child who thinks he can think his way out of everything, who thinks he’s so much better than everyone else, steel through the heart ends everyone, looks at his smile and wonders if he has ever been able to smile so freely--}“When Ezreal sees inside your head,” Talon says above the sound of the scientist announcing ‘neural handshake completed’, “He’s going to be so disappointed to know what you thought of him at first.”“Were you disappointed by his thoughts about you?” Lux asks and doesn’t touch the first part of Talon’s sentence. “Only that he wasn’t scared,” Talon says, quirking a half-smile at her as he stretches out his left arm. Her left arm stretches as well, automatic and unthinking, and Lux exhales. They’re halfway there.

Shadow Spark performs well. Ezreal’s heavy gauntlet is gone, leaving the left arm lighter than the right; Lux uses it to shoot lasers, arms it with a plasma cannon and gives it an unfolding staff that she can use if it runs out of power for the cannons.Lux performs well but she knows everyone is comparing Shadow Spark to Arcane Shadow; she knows everyone is whispering about how she swooped down on Arcane Shadow and had her gutted, had her changed, while Talon was still in hospital so she could present him with a fait accompli.As if Talon hadn’t been part of it. As if he hadn’t plotted with her. It’s a little harder to play the ingenue now, but she needs to keep Talon’s reputation spotless. Nobody will dare raise a hand to a Crownguard, especially with Garen drifting with Prince Jarvan, but Talon has never collected allies like Lux has. The Jaeger pilots are still human and if they should circle on Talon, if they should take him to task for being so disloyal as to drift with Lux while Ezreal still lies sleeping in the hospital…Someone will die, and the Jaeger corps cannot have a pilot who has murdered another pilot. Talon will be expelled from the program.She doesn’t bother explaining this to Talon; he saw her plan in her mind the first time they drifted and he knows she’s not done yet.

Ezreal wakes. Talon sees him first, then Lux.When she enters, he’s still lying down, still pale, but his eyes are open and have lost none of their intensity. “Tal told me the plan,” he says before she can even greet him. “I’m in. What do you need me to do?”She smiles without meaning to and feels her eyes sting with tears.“Get better,” she says, voice a little shaky. “Get better as fast as you can. The only part of my plan that I couldn’t control was you.”The only thing she couldn’t guarantee was that Ezreal would wake.

Viktor’s fingers still over the blueprints he’s examining when he sees Lux enter. “Something wrong with Shadow Spark?” He asks, mechanical voice rasping lower than usual.“Yes. I need you to outfit her like you did Kinkou Balance.” “So Ezreal’s awoken at last,” Viktor says with something akin to smugness in his tone. He pulls out a drawer and tosses her a small USB; Lux catches it reflexively, cupped hands flying up. “I knew you would ask for that. The three of you can look at that and see what changes you need made.”“…Thank you.” Lux snaps him a sharp salute, just for the fun of it, then turns and leaves. The steady clack of her heels against the tiled floor soon turns into a rapider rhythm as she runs down the tunnels. Viktor knew what she wanted and he’s giving her permission. She’d anticipated more of an argument, protests that she’d be better off looking for a different partner so they could have two Jaegers instead of one, but she’s not going to complain about something coming easily for once. For once!Shen, Akali and Kennen might be the first three-person team to pilot a Jaeger but Golden Blade will leave them in the dust.This, too, is part of her plan.

#ezreal #lux #talon #ezlux #talux #talez #drabble #pacific rim au #this got way too long #light binding

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youremarvelous · 6 years

Text

On a Good Day

“You’re upset.”

“I’m not,” Yuuri fumbles the rink key free from his pocket, drops it on the floor and misses the keyhole twice before successfully unlocking the door.

“Yurik,” Viktor reaches for Yuuri’s hand as they stride through the lobby but pulls back before he reaches it, balling his fingers into his palm. “Let’s stretch before going on the ice.”

Yuuri wrestles out of his backpack straps, oblivious to Viktor’s internal struggle. “We warmed up at the house.” His words are clipped, wobbling dangerously at the back of his throat.

“But it’s cold out,” Viktor rationalizes. It’s a stupid argument because they’re standing in a room with an ice floor, and Viktor can tell from the tension around Yuuri’s eyes and the clenched set of his jaw that he thinks so, too.

Yuuri toes off his shoes without untying them because his hands are shaking too much for fine motor control. He sits heavily on a bleacher, bends to pull on his skates, and Viktor watches the crown of his head—the same skein of hair he had stared at in bed this morning, had pressed affectionate, coaxing kisses to.

“I don’t want you on the ice like this,” Viktor switches tactics, adopts his coach voice—influences of Yakov and game show judges weighing down his normally lilting inflection and leaving no room for argument. “We...you need to relax.”

Yuuri jerks his head up at Viktor, pulls his laces into a tight knot. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Yuuri isn’t normally one to swear—barring the times he’s tripped over Makkachin or been forced to traverse a busy Russian street without a crosswalk—but the ‘fuck you’ is there in the sharp bob of his Adam’s apple, the tight line of his mouth.

He stands and Viktor steps back, lets Yuuri by, apologies and explanations tangling on his tongue. Viktor has spent a lifetime dedicating routines to memory: quad flips and practiced smiles, hair flips and manicured fingers poised around another gold medal, yet somehow he can’t nail down the part that matters most.

“No jumps today!” Viktor calls after him, sighs when Yuuri ignores him—tumbles to the ground with a sharp slap and the wringing of lungs.

Yuuri isn’t predictable. It’s part of the reason Viktor loves him—finds him so compelling—but it’s frustrating because Yuuri’s needs are always changing depending on the time, the trigger, their surroundings, and some days Viktor feels he might as well be having a fist fight with the fog for all the good he does.

Viktor knows he can play the part correctly, he just needs to be trusted with the script.

“What’s wrong with Katsudon?” Yurio asks over lunch. Yuuri is sitting with his fork slumped in his slack grip—staring into the distance—two tables over and a million miles away.

Viktor huffs, scratches at his hairline. The atmosphere between them is charged—quiet but tense—like the slow descent of a water droplet rolling from the lip of a tap. “I’m not allowed to talk to him.”

Yurio looks to Yuuri—currently bouncing his heel so vigorously it rattles the chair legs—then back at Viktor, eyes narrowed. “What did you do.”

It’s not a question and Viktor bristles at the implication.

“Nothing,” Yuuri’s voice crackles between them, wispy and hollow. He clears his throat and tries again, “he didn’t do anything. Sorry, I’m...it’s fine.”

The ride back home is silent which doesn’t do a lot to backup Yuuri’s claim. Viktor’s nerves are wire tight and he’s leaning on the wrong side of irritated, exhausted from endlessly sifting the sands of his memory for what he did, what he should’ve done—lying in weight of the inevitable fallout. He’s already played out four separate potential arguments in his head by the time they make it back to their flat, but even then Yuuri clamps down, refuses Viktor entry. He smiles half-heartedly at Makkachin, pats her head, plods into the bedroom to change.

Viktor decides to let him go. Sometimes that’s all Yuuri needs: some quiet time alone to sort out whatever’s bogging down his brain, rattling his veins with excess adrenaline.

Viktor starts dinner and Yuuri doesn’t reappear for another five, fifteen, twenty minutes. Viktor chops carrots for a stew, tries to feed his trepidation and concern-born stress into the broth. His thoughts are fizzing out at the borders and his eyes linger a little too long at the middle distance while he tries to remember whether or not he already added pepper.

He knows what these signs mean but he refuses to allow it entry. Viktor has to try to keep his head above water because he and Yuuri will drown if they both succumb to the dark tides of their minds.

Viktor has just turned the heat on the stove to low when he feels arms wrap around his waist, hands clutch into the front of his shirt, a face pressed into his back. He starts a little, and it’s a testament to the roaring static choking out all of his senses that Viktor—normally so in tune to Yuuri’s every movement—didn’t hear his trek from the bedroom to the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Yuuri exhales, voice muffled in the fabric of Viktor’s shirt.

The words melt down Viktor’s spine, thawing out the creeping winter in his chest and flushing out his system with feelings of warm affection. He means to return the sentiment—he’d been chewing on an apology all day, for what, he isn’t quite sure—but the taste of it is suddenly stale on his tongue.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks finally, bravely, breaking the silence.

Viktor can’t see Yuuri, but he can feel him shake his head, pressing his forehead against Viktor’s back as if to bury himself in the shrine of his ribcage. “I wasn’t really—” he begins—muffled—before pulling away, exhaling so heavily Viktor can see his chest deflate beneath his sweatshirt when he turns around to face him. “I’m just...”

“You’re allowed to be mad at me—” Viktor’s heartbeat jumps to his throat, thrumming against his tonsils—“just say you're mad.”

“It’s a bad day.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri echoes, looks somewhere between Viktor’s chin and sternum. “And I guess I’m...I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”

“I don’t think that.”

Yuuri inhales sharply, nods. “I know. I know that—” he closes his mouth, his jaw visibly working around his thoughts—“but sometimes the way you treat me. When I’m—” Yuuri hesitates—“when it’s a bad day...it can feel a little. Um, demeaning, I guess?”

Viktor’s eyebrows knit together and he opens his mouth to speak, but Yuuri cuts him off. “And I know you don’t mean that. So...” Yuuri shrugs.

Viktor knows it’s his turn to speak, but he’s having trouble translating the relief, the gratitude, the concern whirling through his head into something coherent, so he envelops Yuuri in a hug, instead.

“Are you mad?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor isn’t. Frustrated maybe—with himself, with Yuuri—but this feels like the first rung of a ladder to understanding each other, the ugly parts, the parts they don’t want anyone to see, and it’s not easy to confront but Viktor’s grateful to be granted access.

They have things to work on, sure, but they knew that going in. And they won’t know where to start unless they can open up, accept their weaknesses—that they can’t change solely by will, no matter their stubborness—and learn to meet each other halfway.

“Anxiety?” Viktor asks a few months later when Yuuri struggles to pull on his skate boot and gives up midway, running a trembling hand through his hair.

Yuuri doesn’t flinch at the previously forbidden word—a testament to his therapy, couple’s and otherwise. He curls his fingers into his thighs, hunches his shoulder over his knees and nods once. Viktor stays back and observes, waits for Yuuri to freeze him out, prepares himself to not take it personally...or at least to try not to.

To his surprise, Yuuri unfurls his fists and looks to the ceiling, then Viktor—the rink lights glinting off his glasses. “Can we go for a walk?” He asks carefully, tremulously, hesitation shimmering across his features in the bags under his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows.

“Of course,” Viktor takes his hand before he can change his mind.

They don’t make it back to the rink till after lunch. Viktor walks next to Yuuri, silently at first, a careful breath of distance between them, then Yuuri makes a comment about the clouds—thick and cotton and piled high like a field of snowmen—and Viktor reminisces about a time when he was five and utterly convinced that cotton candy was plucked from the sky—a sample of the pink sunsets he watched wash over the horizon every evening.

“Skating was my backup plan,” he tells Yuuri with a laugh, their knuckles grazing. “What I really wanted to be was a cloud harvester.”

Yuuri smiles—crooked and small but there—and weaves his fingers into Viktor’s. “I’m glad you managed to stay grounded,” he says, then looks to the sky again—stretching out in front of them like a road.

Viktor tightens his grip, matches his pace with Yuuri.

“Me, too.”

#yoi ficlet #yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #victuuri #anxiety #depression #my writing

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shannie-writes · 6 years

Text

It’s a Date

Happy Holidays! This is my Secret Santa gift to @kiku-ohonhonda for Notice Me Senpai. I hope you enjoy it!

You can also find this on my AO3 here.

“Class is dismissed. Don’t forget your homework over the weekend. Katsuo, that means you. Pages 147 through 151. Due Monday.”

Kyouya’s students filed out in a chattering rush, pairing up as they picked up their bags and discussed where they wanted to visit now that classes were through for the day. The café seemed to be a popular spot these days. Kyouya knew he would be down there as well, getting something extra-caffeinated to keep him alive through the night of grading ahead of him, but another electric throb of pain behind his right eye had him changing his mind.

“Meds, meds,” he chanted to himself, throwing the desk drawers open and rifling through the odd papers and handful of pens, his mood growing darker as his search came up empty. A knock on the door had him wincing and looking up to see Hideki stepping into the room.

“Kyouya-sensei, can you help me fill out some of this paperwork for when Viktor-sensei…” Hideki eyed Kyouya over and grimaced. “You look like death warmed over, is something wrong?”

“Migraine,” he said, pressing a couple fingers to his brow in a poor attempt to ease the pain.

“I think the infirmary is open, they usually have something for headaches there. I go and get some for myself on occasion.” Hideki gestured his thumb behind him. “You want me to get some for you?”

Kyouya stood and made his way towards Hideki, patting him on the shoulder as he passed. “I’ll get it myself, thank you.” He didn’t want to shock Hideki with how much he would likely need before it would take effect, his body not taking the medication as well as it used to after near daily use from the years of stress through college and teaching. “I’ll help you with that paperwork when I get back.”

“It can wait until Monday. No rush.”

Kyouya waited for Hideki to follow him out of the room before he closed the door behind them both, splitting off in the other direction towards the infirmary. He counted his blessings that the small office wasn’t too far away, counting each step closer to his relief.

Testing the handle, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, happy the door hadn’t been locked once the students had vacated the building for the weekend. The slight creak of the hinges had him wincing again, beelining for the cabinets above the small sink. Trying to keep his search as quiet as possible, he lifted bottle after bottle, reading the labels and putting them back in place, becoming more agitated with each incorrect medication.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The soft voice behind him was nearly inaudible, but the shock of being found by someone unfamiliar had Kyouya spinning around, knocking a few bottles out of the cabinet and into the sink in his speed to move his hands to his sides to appear as though he wasn’t doing anything suspicious, his heart beating in his chest in time to the headache throbbing against his skull. The clattering behind him stopped after a moment as the bottles settled in the sink, a silence building between Kyouya and the man in front of him.

The man was slightly shorter than Kyouya, but stood properly with his shoulders back. His hair was slightly pink in color, leading Kyouya to wonder if it was dyed, but knew that this was against school rules for staff, which this man had to have been with his long white coat and stethoscope laying around his neck. Kyouya cleared his throat and decided to be as polite as he could manage, looking the man in the eyes. They seemed to smile at him through his glasses, the frame a nearly identical color of soft brown. Kyouya had opened his mouth to apologize and explain the situation, only to find that his throat had dried out, leaving him breathless as though he had been punched in the gut, a familiar sensation from his youth, yet the situation was vastly different.

A small smile touched the man’s face as he witnessed Kyouya’s struggle. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Kyouya. I apologize I hadn’t had a chance to introduce myself to you since I started working this week. I’ve been trying to get this place organized and have been watching over a rather high number of students escaping classes to sleep.” His laugh was light, washing over Kyouya and instantly putting him in a better mood. He held his hand out between them, offering to shake. “Please, call me Haruka.”

Kyouya raised a hand to meet Haruka’s, willing his trembling fingers to not give away how flustered he was. “Nice to meet you as well, Haruka. I would introduce myself in return, but you seem to already know who I am.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you here and there before.” Haruka dropped Kyouya’s grip and took a step closer.

Kyouya closed his eyes, the closeness of their bodies throwing images in his head that he had never entertained for...anyone, really. He caught a whiff of sandalwood--Haruka’s aftershave? Cologne?--before the sound of the cabinet closing behind him brought him back to his senses. Slowly opening his eyes, he found the doctor holding a bottle in front of him so he could read the label. The migraine medication.

“Is this what you were looking for? I saw you touching your forehead.”

“You certainly seem to know me well.” Kyouya took the bottle, being careful not to brush his fingers against Haruka’s.

“You flatter me. I have several years of practice under my belt, I only see the signs presented to me. Please feel free to take the whole bottle if you would like, I was planning on making an order on Monday. Adding another bottle to the list is no issue.”

Kyouya sighed in relief. “Thank you, Haruka. Seriously, this is a lifesaver.”

“Of course. Now, I need to lock up for the weekend, if you don’t mind. I’ll be here on any of the school days if you need me for anything further.”

Kyouya nodded stiffly and slid sideways until he was no longer trapped between the counter and the doctor, giving the man a final glance behind him before stepping into the hallway. He twisted the cap off the bottle and swallowed several of the pills dry as he walked back to his classroom to gather up his things.

There was something about Haruka that left him reeling. Something about him was oddly familiar to Kyouya, though he was sure this was the first time they had met. He had heard stories like this before, of reincarnation and soulmates. People who knew each other through time or were destined to meet. In fact, he would swear that he had witnessed such things with some of his own students...

He clipped his briefcase shut with a sense of finality, standing at the desk and taking a solid breath to get his thoughts back in line. It was nonsense. Maybe he had seen Haruka in passing, through school or around town. He didn’t go out much, but it was more likely that he had seen him in a crowd than it would be destiny they would meet. Haruka had even said he had seen him before today. He was a rational man. Such things didn’t exist.

Adjusting his tie around his neck, he scoffed at himself and picked up his briefcase, beginning the trek out to his car.

Nonsense.

---

The bottle of medication he had been given lasted a concerningly short time and the raised eyebrow from Haruka when he asked for more was enough to shame Kyouya into confessing how much he took at a time. After explaining why he needed it so often, Haruka smiled and told him if he felt the aura coming on around his free period to come by the infirmary instead of brooding at his desk. He told Kyouya that he could always have a cot in the corner available to him, so he could curtain himself in where it would have less light to bother his eyes.

Kyouya had thanked him but didn’t want to bother Haruka if he was busy, so he didn’t take him up on the offer until a few weeks later. It was the best experience he had had and was quickly able to push the migraine back in time for his next class with minimal medication and no sound but Haruka writing on paperwork and occasional footsteps around the room.

The next time he went, Haruka welcomed him with a smile, gesturing towards the corner of the room. This time, there was a sleeping mask waiting for him as well, which Kyouya pulled over his eyes with a sigh of relief.

A knock on the door a short while later brought Kyouya out of his calming thoughts and the whispers of Haruka and an unfamiliar student made him curious. Slipping the mask off his head and peeking around the curtain he saw Haruka talking to the barista from the café, who set a carrying case on his desk, giving the doctor a shy smile as she took her payment and pulled a pair of to-go cups from the case. With a nod to Haruka in response to his whispers, she left the room with the empty case and shut the door quietly behind her.

Haruka turned to the cot Kyouya was in and grinned as he met his peeping gaze, gesturing the second cup towards him. Kyouya could tell that he was pink in the cheeks at being caught so easily. He swung his legs over the side and shoved the curtain to the side as soon as he composed himself, joining Haruka at his desk.

“I hope black is fine?” Haruka said, setting the cup in front of him and taking a sip of his own.

“Yes,” Kyouya picked up the cup and took a deep breath of the steam escaping the lid. “I don’t like my coffee sweet. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. The café girl has really picked up on her technique since last month, it’s really quite good.”

“I haven’t made it down there lately, I usually pop over to the pot in the teacher’s lounge if I’m desperate enough.”

“How about you tell me next time so I can get you something other than the cheap swill they have in there? The café has decent prices, less than going to some coffee shop every day.”

“Coffee is coffee.”

“Tell me that in five minutes when you’re finished,” Haruka said with a laugh, the sound shooting adrenaline through Kyouya’s veins in a pleasant way. He wanted to be the one to make Haruka laugh like that every day.

Tipping back the cup to hide the renewed blush on his face, Kyouya gulped down half his coffee, wiping the remaining moisture from his lips with the pad of his thumb. Haruka watched the movement closely before shaking himself off, looking up and giving Kyouya a smile that took him off guard.

“Well?”

“I’m no gourmet, but it was definitely better than the coffee from the lounge.”

“That’s good. I’ll get some for us tomorrow as well then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, I would like to get to know you better.” Haruka smirked and added, “Gossip about the other faculty and students among other things.”

Kyouya felt a small smile touch his lips in return. “I have some pretty juicy gossip, I suppose.”

Haruka laughed again. “Same time tomorrow then. You need to go before your free period ends.”

Kyouya stood and clutched the cup of coffee to his chest. His heart was racing and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the happiness Haruka was exuding or the caffeine kicking in. Perhaps both.

“Thank you again for the coffee. I will see you then.”

“It’s a date.”

---

“I had no idea that you came to Ikemen as well,” Kyouya exclaimed, setting his mug on the café table. “You would have been one or two years ahead of me? That would explain why you looked somewhat familiar to me when we first met.”

Haruka swallowed the bite of cake he had been savoring, catching the barista’s eye and giving her a thumbs up. “A year older, yes. That’s also how I knew you before. You had quite the reputation back then.”

Kyouya nearly choked on his own spit, holding back the coughing by will alone. “Yes, well. Things were very different then.”

“They really were, weren’t they?”

“Why is it that I had never met you though? I ended up knowing the majority of the other students in the school through one way or another.”

“I was very quiet through school, I don’t think many people would remember me, to be honest. I assisted the librarian when I wasn’t in class. I think she would have died if you had ever stepped foot among the bookshelves,” he chuckled.

“Yes, I did tend to study more on how to throw a punch than anything actually productive.”

“What made you decide to become a teacher? I was definitely surprised to see how much of a change you’ve made in the last ten years.”

“Long story short, there was a third year teacher here who made it his goal to get me to care about myself. He succeeded, somehow. It helped that my good friend Viktor--he’s also a teacher here, actually--he sided with him as well, pushing me away from the negative influences that would have killed me eventually. It also made me realize that there are hundreds of other students out there like me that deserve to have someone look out for them and help them get back on their feet. I don’t know if teaching is necessarily the best way to go about it, math was the only thing I was ever really good at. He was no longer teaching by the time I received tenure here, but I will always look up to him as my idol.”

Haruka looked Kyouya over, as though reading something between the lines. Eventually he said, “That’s really amazing, Kyouya. Thank you for sharing with me.”

Kyouya cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one who asked, of course I would tell you.”

Haruka grinned and looked at his watch. “Ah, it’s about that time.” He gestured to the barista and handed her a bill when she beelined over, taking the offered cash to the register to get Haruka his change.

Kyouya stood and pushed the chair up to the table, glad that Haruka didn’t react any differently to his emotional answer. “This time tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”

---

“Viktor, I have a question for you.”

“If this is about the paperwork Hideki brought up to me today, I will make sure to get that done by the end of tomorrow.”

“Do it by the end of the school day today, or I swear I will--that wasn’t my question, don’t you walk away from me yet.”

“Oh? Is it school related?”

“No.”

“Oooh, do tell. Do you finally have a crush? Is it that pretty little café girl?”

“For the love of--Viktor, don’t flutter your eyes like that, it’s absolutely disgusting. And creepy.”

“So it is the café girl.”

“No. Viktor just listen--okay, you know what? Never mind.”

“Wait, Kyou-chan, I was just teasing. What’s your question?”

“Have you ever...Have you ever met somebody for the first time and felt instantly that you had known them for a very long time?”

“I can’t say that I have myself, but I have met plenty of people that have expressed their relationships along those lines before.”

“How did they describe it?”

“Hmm. A lot of them called each other their soulmates, someone who they had been destined to end up with and be together.”

“How did it end up for them?”

“I don’t think there was a single pair that seemed to be unhappy with each other, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’ve been thinking of telling...this person...how I feel.”

“Who--I mean, what are you going to tell them?”

“That they calm me. They are the first thing on my mind when I wake and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. Their smile is all I need to energize myself for the day. I want to spend the rest of my life with them. I can’t think straight when we’re together. I want to take care of them like they take care of me. I...I think I love them.”

“You know, I’m sure that Haruka would love that.”

“Eh! What? H-How did you know?”

“It would take an idiot to not see how you two look at each other.”

“You mean, he thinks the same for me too?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Not in as many words as you so eloquently put, but yes.”

“Do you think the students know?”

“I think they have their minds on plenty of other things. And what does it matter? You two were made for each other, really.”

“Viktor, I think this is the most honest you have been with me since I’ve met you.”

“There’s a first for everything. Don’t expect it to last. Now, go find your doctor and I’ll go find Hideki or something.”

“Thank you, Viktor.”

“It’s what best friends do.”

---

Kyouya, Haruka, and Viktor were making their way back to school after taking Haruka out to lunch to the bistro down the street. It was close enough that they didn’t feel the need to take a car, but Kyouya was starting to regret it as the winter air chilled his lungs. Wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck, he caught the last part of the conversation Viktor was holding with Haruka as they made their way across school grounds to the main building.

“Bali is especially wonderful this time of year. I’ve already reached out to my uncle about it and he says it should be fine but will get back to me.”

Temper boiling, Kyouya said, “Are you serious? You’ve already had a fifth leave this year alone, I may have to stake you if you leave Hideki in a lurch again. You do realize that when he has issues they become my issues.”

“My goodness, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Hideki is a good kid, he knows how to take care of things on his own much better than he did at the beginning of the year.”

They entered the building and began their walk to the infirmary, intending on walking Haruka back to his room.

“That’s due to the fact that he’s had to survive on his own for the majority of the school year and has had me helping him. I swear, if you don’t give the boy at least a month to catch up with his college classwork--”

Haruka placed his hand on the doorknob, looking back at the bickering pair with a smile as he opened the door. “Now now, Kyouya. I’m sure Viktor had a good reason for taking his fifth leave of absence this year.”

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices from inside the room startled Haruka and he froze in the doorframe, a small exclamation of excitement as the students inside began to sing Happy Birthday for him. Viktor placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him inside so he and Kyouya were no longer standing in the hallway, gesturing him towards the café girl as she held up a lit cake for him to make his birthday wish.

After Haruka blowed the candles out, Viktor started the congratulations. “Haruka! Happy birthday! Thanks for always letting me use the infirmary supply whenever I have emergency situations regarding my...um…” his voice fell to a whisper that only the other two could hear. “Medical condition. Yep, yep. That’s it.” Bringing himself back to a normal volume, he continued, “You’ve been a great help to me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around to pry a certain someone off of me whenever he goes berserk.” He laughed nervously as Kyouya gave him a sharp look. “You’re a real lifesaver, doctor!”

Still upset about their previous conversation, Kyouya jabbed Viktor in the ribs with his elbow as discreetly as possible. Clearing his throat to cover Viktor’s moan, Kyouya took over. “Happy Birthday, Haru. Thank you for always welcoming me here and taking care of me. I--” He cleared his throat again, feeling the blush rise up on his face. “I can’t believe I’m saying this in front of all these students, but--You’ve truly become an important part of my life here in the school. I don’t know what I would do without your care and your company. Your presence keeps me quite calm and sane. My only regret is that I didn’t try to get to know you sooner. If only I had tried to be friends with you in high school, I would have known you a bit better.” His voice dropped as he finished, “But then again, we have all the time in the world for that now, don’t we?”

Haruka grinned and brushed his hand against Kyouya’s, a second of contact that shot electric shocks up Kyouya’s arm and down his spine, warming his whole body under his coat.

“Yes, we do.”

It’s a date.

#nmssecretsanta #notice me senpai #nms #kyouya #haruka #soulmate au #writing #fic #secret santa 2k17

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twoteaspoonsofsuga · 7 years

Text

On Love: Release and Resolve (Viktuuri Fanfiction)

Anon Asked: “Victor and Yuri have their first real argument please?”

AN: Set in Season 2. I don’t even know about the writing here. It’s probably shit. Viktor gets mad and then feels awful about it.

Viktor had been wound tighter and tighter over the past couple of weeks. He was exhausted. His head bursting at the seams. Luckily Yuuri had backed off his idea, of love being his theme again. The boy could be stubborn and was adamant his routine was the correct one. But Viktor stepped in as his coach and told him he had to keep moving forward, not cling to the past if he wanted to surprise the audience. Yuuri was resistant for some reason and fought for his vision every chance he got. Until Viktor got so dizzy one day on the ice, drained from stress, that while he was doing a quad flip he had fallen and landed badly, hitting his head and momentarily blacking out. The horrible silence had terrified Yuuri. He had fallen onto his knees next to him, hands cradling his fiancés blood stained hair. It was a lot worse than it looked but it had shaken Yuuri badly and he never asked Viktor about his own ideas again. In a way, Viktor felt awful for it. Like he was clipping Yuuri’s wings, but the other slightly selfish part was relieved to finally have Yuuri’s full cooperation. It just made things easier. Now it felt like Yuuri was on his side, Or at least he thought he was.

Yuuri leaving for the rink before Viktor had woke was a normal thing for them. Yuuri liked to get in some practice so he could impress his coach and calm Viktor enough that he would focus on himself for a while. But, lately Yuuri had been struggling to focus at all, so it had become more frequent that Viktor would wake up without Yuuri next to him. Which always made him kind of…melancholy. However, this morning Viktor had woken relatively early too. And the vision of his fiancé faithfully practicing choreography on the ice alone for him, was something Viktor was sure would melt all his worries away. It would warm his heart and help him to feel supported. Needed. They were on the same team and Yuuri was leaving his side in order to benefit Viktor. But instead… he found Yuuri on the ice, practicing choreography that he had most definitely not created. He knew what it was because Yuuri had shown it him before. Or at least a part of it. It was the routine that Yuuri had wanted to do previously, the one attached to the theme of love. But Viktor got anything but love from Yuuri right now. For a long while Yuuri didn’t see him in the distance and it allowed a frustration to build up in Viktor. He had spent so much time alone in bed. So much time on Yuuri’s skating and sacrificing his own routines in order to help Yuuri out of his slump. The whole while, Yuuri had been defying him behind his back. Despite Viktors struggles. Finally, Yuuri met his eyes and skidded to a stop, ice spitting into the air. His eyes were wide for a second and then he looked away, blushing like a toddler caught red handed. Viktor for his part said nothing, his expression stony as Yuuri skated towards him. The younger opened his mouth several times and then: “I can explain…” “After everything. Everything I have gone through, everything I said.” Viktor was furious. “Why! Why would you choose to defy me? Do you not trust my opinion? Do you not care that I have worked myself…” “Of course I care! I have barley slept trying to get better for you! Staying up every night to make sure you were peacefully dreaming and-“ “THEN WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!?” he yelled and it echoed into the room, throwing his skates to the ground, his cheeks were flushed. “I have /physically/ exhausted myself! I have endangered my health and my career and for what!? For you to show me that none of it is good enough for “World Record Holder Yuuri Katsuki”. You’ve been leaving me so lonely in bed each morning because you’d rather further /yourself/. How could you be so selfish!” Yuuri flinched at the word. He was quiet for a moment. Just staring at the floor. “Even if you couldn’t have listened to me as a coach the least you could do was listen to me as the man you love. I begged you- /begged/ you to stop making it so hard for me.” Yuuri wrung his hands nervously. “Do you have nothing to say?” Viktor’s tone was astonished. “Not even an apology.” Yuuri opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. “I wanted to…to surprise you.” A short silence. “Excuse me?” Yuuri looked up, looking slightly panicky. “I…I’m so sorry I just…when you hurt your head it messed me up so much and I knew it was my fault I-I knew it was because of me and I just…I thought if you could see that I could choreograph too then maybe in the future you wouldn’t have to and you could focus on yourself instead of me because …” he babbled on in a flurry of explanations. “Yuuri…” “…I just thought that maybe if you just trained with me instead of making all the decision then you’d half your stress and I promise the routine you created is so stunning I-I just wanted to…” “Yuuri stop…stop…” Viktor’s body sagged. “Come closer to me?” Yuuri did and Viktor caught his shaky palms and pulled him closer to the barrier. He lifted his hands and kissed each finger, like he was kissing the palms of an angel. Reverence in every touch of his lips. “Viktor…you don’t have feel pity me. What I did was wrong. And if I’m anxious I only have myself to blame.” “No. No…my sweet Yuuri it was me that was wrong.” “But you didn’t-” “I assumed you were thinking of yourself. But as usual, you were thinking of me. You’re always thinking of me. I don’t know why I ever doubted it…” Yuuri shook his head, came close and pressed their foreheads together. “I should have told you what I was doing.” “I probably wouldn’t have listened. Not lately.” Yuuri shook his head again. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, you’ve had so much on shoulders. I just wanted to bear some of the cross, that’s all.” Viktor smiled, his eyes still a little sheepish. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that…I feel very bad for it now.” Yuuri caressed Viktor’s hair from his eyes. “I forgive you, will you’ll forgive me…” Viktor laughed. “Of course.” His fingers trickled down the sides of Yuuri’s face, over the curves of his cheekbones. “You know…it could be something revolutionary, to end the season…perform at the final with a different routine than when you started. It certainly has an element of surprise.” He tapped his lips with his finger thoughtfully. “Huh…do you have a full routine?” Yuuri nodded excitedly, his face lit up. “Will you show it to me?” Yuuri almost bounced on the ice excitedly and kissed Viktor hard nearly sending him dizzy all over again. “Mmph! Okay! Okay!” he laughed kissing him once more. “Let have you dance for me yes?”

“Always.” Yuuri promised pushing off onto the ice.

#viktuuri #victuuri #victuri #vikturi #prompts #viktuuri fanfic #Victuuri Fanfic #Vikturi Fanfic #Victuri Fanfic #angst #fluff

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hazelandglasz · 7 years

Text

Stammi Vicino 2.0

I got inspired by an idea, and then the plot bunny just ran with it …

AKA The IT AU no one ever asked for

AKA My pleasure writing ;)

On AO3

Contrary to popular beliefs around the hallways of The Rink,Viktor is not completely incompetent around computers.

He didn’t become the “hero” of his department by being entirely clueless around those electronic beasts.

But.

This time around, no matter how hard he tries, no matter what he tries--and it ranges from unplugging his whole system and plugging it back off to singing a lullaby to it--, the report that needs to be on Yakov’s desk in … oh Lord, thirty-five minutes, simply won’t. Fucking. Print.

“Arrrgh!”

Plisetsky rolls away from his cubicle to glare at Viktor. “Do you mind keeping it down, old man?” he growls. “Some of us do work around here.”

Viktor wordlessly growls back, raking his fingers through his hair. First of all, he is not old, fuck you very much, and second of all, he would so work too if he could.

“Vitya, just call IT, that’s why they lurk around in the basement,” Georgi says over the wall that separates their two desks.

Georgi is right.

He’s the voice of reason, as melodramatic as he may be in his color palettes sometimes.

“IT, Chulanont speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hello, hi, this is Nikiforov, station 1804?”

“Yes?”

There is a smirk behind that cheery tone, Viktor doesn’t need a conf call to know it.

He may use his break time to watch videos of dogs. Maybe. So sue him.

“There is a problem with my printer.”

“Any error message on your screen?”

“No--nothing happens.”

“Did you try to turn it o--”

“Yes!”

“Alright, buddy, I’ll send someone within the hour. Slow down with the caffeine, alright?”

Before Viktor can reply or, you know, defend himself, Chulanont hangs up on him.

The little--

“Chulanont told you to untwist your panties?”

“Yes, Mila.”

“He has a point.”

“Can you kindly mind your own panties and leave mine as twisted as they want to be?”

“Kinky.”

“Mila, do you need another visit from HR?”

“Hmmm, yeah, I’d say I do, it’s been a while since Ms. Crispino paid us a visit …”

Michele’s angry eyes appear above the partition at the mention of his sister before slowly sinking back down, and Mila clears her throat, twisting her mouth in embarrassment.

Her eyes land behind Viktor, and her smirk makes a comeback. “Viktor, did IT say the name of the guy coming to help you?”

“Nope.”

“Hm-hm.”

Viktor swivels around on his chair to follow her line of sight and when his eyes find the guy who stepped out of the elevator, fixing his hair and pushing his glasses up his nose, he lurches forward mid-turn and faceplants.

God. Fucking. Bless.

The Mystery Dancer from the company’s Christmas party is … not looking as mysterious and daring as he did back then--now that was a night to remember, the way they danced together through all the songs that played, laughing like Viktor hadn’t laughed in God knows how long, smiling and brushing fingers …--but still as captivating and interesting with the thick frames hiding his beautiful eyes.

“Yuuri!”

Viktor may have had his fair share of champagne that night, but he didn’t forget that name.

Which made his inability to find Yuuri in the personnel's log even more frustrating.

The man seems surprised that Viktor knows his name, and a oh so pretty blush spreads on his cheeks--really, Viktor would love to observe the way it flares like pink paint in a glass of water. With his fingers, his lips …

“Mr. Nikiforov? Station 1804?”

Oh.

“Y-yes, that … that’s me.”

A small smile, one that screams of discomfort. “I’m Yuuri. Katsuki. I’m from IT?”

Viktor can only nod as he stands to let Yuuri sits in his chair. Yuuri starts typing some commands and codes while explaining in a soft voice what he’s doing, but there is a distant ringing sound in Viktor’s ear at the moment.

He doesn’t remember.

“See, Viktor, your computer was not connected to the same network as your printer, I don’t know what happened there …”

He doesn’t remember me, our dance, the whole night, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.

“Viktor?”

I know it happened, Chris has pictures. I was ready to take him on all the dates and he. Doesn’t. Even. Remember.

“Viktor? Mr. Nikiforov? Sir?”

Oh Lord …

“Ow.”

Viktor shakes his head, rubbing at the back of it. On the floor, next to his foot, there is a little black cat still holding some paper clips.

And Yuri is glaring at him. “Can you stop being pathetic for a second, old man, and answer the guy so he can return to the cave where he belongs?”

Yuuri’s face matches Viktor’s scarf now. “Yuri!”

Both men look at him and Viktor has to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This is going to get confusing very fast,” he mumbles. “Yuri, you’ll have to find a nickname or something?”

“Or you can just call us by our last names, like a professional human being.”

“Nah, that’s no fun, right Yuuri?”

Yuuri looks back at him and shrugs. “I guess .First names are … good?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“Relax, coolio, Yurio!”

“Don’t you dare.”

Mila’s head pops out again from her cubicle. “Yurio? I approve.”

Yuri--no, Yurio now--groans and disappears back between the wall of his space. “Fine, do whatever you want. And bring me back my paper clips holder.”

“After the violence you used to throw it at me?”

A small sound, innocent and so tentative Viktor could have missed it, stops him mid-drama.

A giggle.

From Yuuri.

That’s fucking adorable, and Viktor is going to combust.

“I understand now why some days are not so productive,” Yuuri says as he stands up.

Why is he standing up?

“Seems like your printer is working now … Viktor.”

Oh, my name sounds pretty in his mouth.

Nope, not going there.

“You’re a miracle worker, Yuuri,” Viktor exclaims instead. “How can I thank you?”

Yuuri tilts his head to the side and brushes a strand of hair away from his face with a crooked smile. “You just did.”

And with that, he’s gone, and Viktor lets himself drop in his chair, looking at him go.

Not a bad sight to fixate upon.

“You are pathetic--oww, you asshole, you nearly hit me!”

---

Now that Viktor has found Yuuri again--he didn’t even consider IT to be the place where his mystery man was hiding, and he will make amends for that neglect--he cannot fathom the idea of not seeing him.

Yes, he does have a melodramatic streak to compete with Georgi, why do you ask.

Lunch hour doesn’t work, because apparently, the whole IT team--all three of them, it’s like their computers are guarded by an adorable Cerberus.

(Yes, Viktor did mark the page for the IT team in the company’s mug book. why do you ask?)

--seems to take their lunch break at odd hours.

Whyyyy?

“Because it makes sense for them to run diagnosis and tests while we mere humans are out for lunch.”

Georgi, once again the voice of reason.

“Since when are you so logical?”

“Since he is getting laid again.”

“Ah.”

“Mila!”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“...”

“Thought so.”

“Maybe Old man here needs to get laid too to get his remaining grey cells working ag--oww!”

“Yurio, show some respect.”

“Thank you Sara.”

“--for your elders.”

“Fuck you Sara.”

“The job is taken.”

“Eww.”

“Yes, don’t hurt the baby’s sensitive ears with your trash talk.”

“Fuck you Viktor.”

Viktor laughs, leaning back in his chair. “That doesn’t tell me how to, how did you so romantically put it, get laid with my beautiful mystery man.”

“You know his name, he’s not a mystery man anymore--did you actually bring the mug book with you?”

“I needed to look at his face.”

Chris leans over his shoulder to look at the page too. “He’s a cutie,” he says thoughtfully. “The other two are not too shabby either--Sara! Why did you hire only models to be in IT?”

Sara smirks at them. “Eye candy.”

Michele seethes in a corner, and as entertaining as it may be--it so is--that doesn’t help Viktor with his situation.

“Goddammit, Viktor,” Yurio explodes, “if you want to see the IT guy, either go down to the cave or get the IT guy to come up here!”

Now that’s an idea.

“Or you can be a creeper and wait for him and follow him and slaughter him before making a suit out of his skin, for all I care.”

What.

No, the first idea was better.

---

Thus starts the big Week of Viktor Against The Machines.

Unplugging and replugging everything in the wrong order is a pretty easy task, and it gets him the priviledge of looking at Yuuri’s butt wiggling for, oh, only a minute.

But a minute of that particular sight is more than enough to fill a lifetime of fantasies when you’e Viktor Nikiforov.

Even worth the comments about him drooling from … many cubicles actually.

Kicking the router until the Wi-fi network collapses is a job of precision and only done once he has checked that this wouldn’t be too much of a bother.

Mila carries Yurio away for coffee before the young man can start screaming bloody murder, so not bothered.

This time, Yuuri is not alone--he brings his intern with him, a serious looking dude with an extreme focus.

And an undercut.

“Altin,” he says to introduce himself before lifting the router in the air like he’s going to perform Hamlet’s monologue. “Hm.”

Yurio and Mila return just as Viktor manages to invite Yuuri for a drink while Altin repairs the thing--and he doesn’t even embarrass himself in the process.

Lo and behold, Yuuri accepts, checking with the younger man--that he calls Beka for some reason--before returning his attention to Viktor.

Who, frankly, doesn’t know if he can handle that smile without doing something idiotic.

As they walk out, Yurio stands close to the door, eyes wide as they look at Beka Altin working his magic.

Interesting.

Not as interesting as Yuuri talking about how computers are more than electronic circuits, but still.

---

The following day, Yurio waits for Viktor at the entrance with a papercup and a frown.

“Want some help with your mission?”

“My what now?”

“Your mission,” Yurio repeats, shoving the cup in Viktor’s chest. “I figured, the bigger the mess, the longer he’ll stay, the more opportunity you’ll have to charm him because he seems receptive to,” he pauses, gesturing at Viktor’s everything, “this, and the quicker you’ll stop moping.”

Viktor takes a careful sip of the drink and considers his young colleague.

A genius, yes; but Yurio is still very young.

And not very subtle.

“The bigger the mess, the more likely Yuuri is going to bring reinforcement, hm?”

“Look, do you want my help or not?!”

“I do. Thank you, Yuri.”

“Nah, use Yurio, I got used to it.”

“So what’s the plan?”

---

Alright.

Maybe they took it one step too far.

Uprooting the whole database from the server, forcing it to halt as if under attack and putting everyone but the IT team on hold was … perhaps a bit much.

Possibly.

Neither Viktor nor Yurio ever denied being over-the-top.

Even with the unhappy frown on Yuuri’s face, it’s worth it, because it means that they need to go back and forth between the servers and the desks for the next two weeks.

(Viktor will totally buy muffins baskets for the team)

“So, Yuuri …”

“Not now.”

There is something new in Yuuri’s voice, something dark, that doesn’t let Viktor completely indifferent.

He fears that there isn’t much Yuuri could do that would make him feel differently.

But that little growl?

Straight to the spank bank.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this command would provoke that reaction,” he still says softly.

He did not, that’s not a lie. Yurio did, though.

Even if it worked beyond even his expectations.

Yuuri sighs, leaning back in Viktor’s chair to look up at him. His hair is pushed back--after pulling at it for hours, it’s almost like Yuuri gelled it--and he took his glasses off.

Viktor could kiss him on sight, for all to see, he’s so heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

“I know you didn’t mean to do it,” Yuuri says tiredly, “but you have to understand that your actions have consequences.”

Is Yuuri scolding him?

“That what you do put everybody else in jeopardy.”

Signs point to yes.

“Boss, don’t be so hard on him,” Otabek--Altin’s name, after all--says, eyes on Yurio’s screen while he types line after line of coding. “We should have safe-guarded that command.”

Yurio is perched on the cubicle’s wall like a cat--no surprise there--following Otabek’s every move.

“You can save it, thought, right Beka?”

It’s weird and sweet (sweird?) to see Yurio looking at another human being with so much fondness.

“We can put it back online,” Beka says, “but Yuuri is the only one who can save what has been lost.”

“My hero,” Viktor says softly.

He didn’t expect Yuuri to smirk at him. “Hero, uh?”

“Of course.”

“Does that make you the princess in distress?”

“Of course.”

“Meaning that this is my task to complete to win your hand.”

“It’s already yooo look at the time, gotta run, gotta get … um, coffee. Lots of it. For everybody.”

“Vitya.”

Viktor freezes on the spot, red high on his cheeks.

Yuuri stands up and walks towards him, glasses back on his nose but his hair still pushed back.

Forget about walking, Yuuri Katsuki is stalking towards Viktor.

And Viktor has no intention of going anywhere--what’s a little humiliation in exchange of this sight, this determination aimed at him.

“Will you go on a date with me when I put the system back fully?” Yuuri asks, voice soft yet confident.

Viktor reaches for Yuuri’s hand, and bring it to his lips. “I can’t wait.”

---

And now for a little prologue-epilogue

From the moment Yuuri started working at The Rink, he fell in love with the chief creator Viktor Nikiforov.

Talented, amiable, gorgeous--the man had everything going for him.

Why would he even look in the direction of some IT schmuck like Yuuri?

After the Christmas celebration, which Yuuri only remembered as the Headache From Hell, Yuuri feels a little bit better, like he belongs there. Phichit is a good manager, sure, but Yuuri is the computer wizard.

With Otabek as an intern (and soon a colleague, Yuuri will make sure of that), there is nothing they can’t do, from the basement where they work surrounded by all the machinery.

That doesn’t make his crush on Viktor any less pathetic, but it is a consolation.

“Yuuri, desk 1804 needs you urgently.”

Yuuri rolls closer to Phichit. “Can’t you take over from here?”

“No, no, it’s … important that you go and fix it on sight.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes at his best friend. “Who is station 1804?”

“Why do you care?”

“What are you doing?”

“My job?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s not Mr. Feltsman, is it?”

“Oh no.”

“Ms. Liliana?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t put you through that.”

“You’re not trying to play matchmaker again, are you?”

Otabek looks at them with a confused look. “Again?”

“He got me drunk at the Christmas party, saying that I just needed a little liquid courage, which, a, it got me nothing except a headache, and b, certainly didn’t work to approach Viktor.”

Otabek’s eyes are all round and wide. “The Christmas party?” he repeats. “The one where--”

“Yuuri, Station 1804 is waiting,” Phichit cuts in, perhaps a bit too loudly to be honest.

But he’s right, and he’s his boss, so Yuuri sighs and goes out.

“This is not over,” he warns Phichit.

Before the door closes, he swears he hears him reply, “This is just the beginning.”

#sometimes i write #yuri on ice #yuri on ice au #viktuuri #otayuri (sort of)#babispino #IT AU #fluff #ridiculous shenanigans

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bionicdragonguardian1 · 7 years

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I found this on Pinterest, and just had to say something about it.

Can I be the first to say; uh no. You’re wrong. Not in a rude way, but I just totally disagree with the fact that you think he’s squinting because he can’t see.

If this were true I’d be really concerned, these are both clips from his short skate performance (as utterly obvious by the outfit). Which means he’s on the ice, alone. If he was seriously squinting now because he can’t see I’d honestly be really concerned. Being on the ice by himself means that he really only has to be keeping an eye on where he is in the rink- most easily distinguished by the distance from any of the walls. Since the logos under the ice change from rink to rink.

This would mean Yuri’s vision is so bad that he can’t see the walls of the rink. Here’s where my concern comes in, yes, if you take off your glasses your depth perception can take a bit to line back up in your brain- which would account for why he takes his glasses off before he warms up.

Completely logical, but what boku wa goofy goober (and I wanted to murder myself for having to write that) is implying is that Yuri’s vision is utter shit. That his vision isn’t a minor correction, but rather a larger one. That being said, this is where my concern comes in. If he has to squint when he is on the ice BY HIMSELF just to see the walls and know where he is in the rink then I am sincerely worried about the safety of him and every other skater that is on the rink at the same time as him. Like in warm-ups, where there are up to five other skaters on the ice. If he has to squint to see the wall, that means he’s having serious problems when it comes to seeing the other skaters. Something that would be seriously bad for his reputation (and body) should he do so more than once.

This is the only time we see him squint off the ice, at the Cup of China. In episode 6, after his Eros performance. His 106.84, an extremely high number for a short performance. Which means he can’t read the numbers on the Jumbotron, so yes, his vision is absolute crap. There is denying it, but with vision that bad he would be a danger to not only the other skaters- whether that be for the 6 minute warm up or the fact that Phitchit was his rink-mate for the whole time he was in Detroit before the Sochi Grand Prix Finals- but also to himself.

If either of his coaches Celestino had any common sense, he would’ve picked up on this. Telling Yuri that he would either have to wear his glasses or get contacts to wear to practice.

In this shot from Episode 3, Yuri isn’t wearing his glasses, but anyone with common sense would know that SEEING the person you’re skating beside is important. Now, technically, the distance between the two of them very easily falls under the “intermediate” distance for Yuri’s eyesight. Which could easily mean that he can see Viktor far better than he can see the Jumbotron. However, according to my friend, who is 100% nearsighted. Meaning that he only needs his glasses for things that are further away. “It’s very disorienting to see something, then have it step over this line that suddenly causes it to go from being crystal clear to blurring. Only getting worse the farther away from you, whatever it is, goes.” To have this happen while you’re skating beside someone would unnerve anyone.

It would be easy to say that Yuri is farsighted, except for the Jumbotron screen AND this scene.

Where he’s less than three feet from Viktor and not squinting at all. While one could argue that he has astigmatism, the most common reason someone has trouble seeing both far away and up close, there is this scene right here that denies it.

As someone who has astigmatism when someone gets close enough that I have trouble seeing them, through the portion of my glasses meant to help with my distance vision, my instinctual reaction is to look up. And I don’t mean like Yuri is, looking over his glasses. I mean tilt my head back and look through the bottom portion of my glasses so they continue to look clear to me. If I were Yuri, at this distance, I’d be able to tell that it was Viktor who was right in front of me purely because of the sound of his voice and the fact that his hair is silver. The rest of his face would look blurry. Yuri is very much aware of the fact that Viktor is in front of him, but he’s also aware of how Viktor is looking at him. Something someone with farsighted vision would have problems with.

So, Yuri is far-sighted but still squints while performing. The question is, why? Would he really put someone else in danger because he can’t see properly without his glasses on? Do I even need to answer that? This is Yuri Katsuki we’re talking about, of course, he wouldn’t! He is competitive when it comes to figure skating, sure, but he genuinely cares about the people he meets and competes with/against. His rink mate at the time that this was going down would’ve been Phichit. There is no way that Yuri would put Phichit in danger for the sole reason being that his vision sucks rocks. No, he would’ve toughed it out, gone to the eye doctor and gotten contacts. It’s just who he is. He might not have enjoyed wearing them in practice, or in competition, but he would’ve done what he was told.

Though, that still leaves why Yuri had to squint at the Jumbotron and why he squints while performing. That’s actually easy like I said before I have astigmatism, my vision is a mess. My doctor described my vision in four sectors, rather than the common three. Distance, being 20ft (about 6.1 meters) and greater. Near, is the distance that a person would normally hold a book or sew, about 18-25 inches (46-63.5 cm) or less. Intermediate being everything in between. Due to the fact that I competed in Martial Arts I couldn’t wear my glasses while I practiced or competed. At practice, I was usually pretty okay, but competitions could get dicey. Long story short, one of them did and I ended up hurting someone during sparring because I couldn’t fully tell where the headgear ended and their glove had started. I had felt bad, and had been told by my instructor that if I wanted to compete again I would need to get contacts.

My vision is absolute shit, I need my glasses on almost 100% of the time, meaning that the thing that would be hardest to do would be to get contacts that fit my prescription. My eye doctor had actually told me that it would be nearly impossible, but what he recommended was contacts that would solve my near-intermediate and short-distance sight problems. Meaning the distance from arm’s length to about 15 feet (about 4.5 meters) away. These couldn’t be used to drive and they wouldn’t begin to help with my reading vision, but they would do exactly what I needed them to for Martial Arts. And I only wore them during those times, however, like Yuri when they would post the scoring I still couldn’t see it quite as clearly and would have to squint slightly. What I also did, though was subconsciously squint when I was moving quickly. I think part of the reason was I was afraid my contacts were going to come out, even if that was “completely insane to think about” according to my mother. I still did it, and it’s entirely possible that’s what Yuri did too.

My little brother is looking over my shoulder and the first thing he brought up was the press. More specifically this scene right here in Episode 11. (technically he meant the one right before this, but I can’t find it for the life of me.)

I would like to think that they give people a bit of space, but it’s likely that they don’t. However, it could be entirely possible that Viktor could push the press away for a few minutes to let Yuri take out the contacts that he hates so much. Or (though I like the other idea better) if that wasn’t quite the case, Yuri could easily put his glasses on while his contacts were still in. It’d be entirely stupid and could give him a headache if he wasn’t careful, but it is possible. There would some slight overcorrection, the cause of the headache I mentioned before, but if since Yuri is nearsighted it wouldn’t affect his ability to see the interviewers. It would also give him a very valid reason to keep his time with the press short.

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD that was a long post. Anyway, I felt like I had to say something, I’m not trying to be mean or rude or anything like that. I just thought I should point out that not everything is as cut and dry as it seems.

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sujing-sm · 7 years

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been a long while, remember me?

*arrow pointing up* that’s the title of the fic, though it is fitting on how my presence on tumblr has been pretty... not me for the past few days...

So heya I’m back. i hope to write more soon, my hands are just itching... Lmao I realized that I just love to add the word ‘remember’ on to my fics, don’t I?

Just read On My Love by @min-min-minnie and I’m so shook especially the part where like Vitya skates to On My Love and I’m like??? I can ascend to heaven now???

My soul is screaming and at the same time I’m so emotional about this fic I can’t even describe so I wrote this little snippet to calm myself down.

By the way if you haven’t read this fic yet it’s so good please read it you’re doing yourself a favor thanks. Who am I kidding who hasn’t read this yet. Oh wait, my friend. Like girl, you’re missing out on life. But then again I threw like how many anime & book & fanfic & song recs at her oops.

Click the ‘keep reading’ for what this post was for! (it was hijacked by my fangirling haha sorry)

Mondays.

As far as Viktor has observed from the general populace throughout his entire working history at Ice Castle, Mondays have always been the most restless and painfully tiring of all the days of the week.

He loves it here; as the customers come pouring in, in need of a hot cup of cappuccino to fuel their sleep-deprived minds, the smell of grounded beans permeating the cafe, and the slight hum of voices in the background as they wait for the desired drink.

Doesn’t take away the fact that it is slightly exhausting, though.

He hands another plastic cup filled with goodness to the next customer of endless customers, and sighs.

Mondays.

Tuesdays are slightly less demanding, and Viktor can finally have a breather. Even after all these years he still can’t get used to the flow of things here. He thinks fondly back on the days when it used to be more bearable...

“Viktor.”

His coworker, Chris, calls out to him, and Viktor has no choice to go help out with the espresso machine. The man grins at him suggestively when he comes near him, and Viktor shoots him a politely confused look.

“So,” Christophe, who has been his partner for a long while now, flutters his long eyelashes at Viktor handsomely. He slings an arm over Viktor’s shoulder. “You’ve been pretty out of it lately. What’s been on your mind?”

“Hmm...” Viktor puts a finger to his lips wonderingly. “I don’t think so, no.”

“You can tell me anything, you know.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yup. Gonna spill anytime soon?”

“No.”

He spends Wednesday relatively free, as his shift ends sooner than expected with the slightly lesser amount of customers entering the shop; he retires early to watching video clips on his phone.

He is so absorbed that when Mila, a good friend of his, taps a finger on his phone-

He jumps.

“Are you okay?” she is concerned, he can tell. He smiles reassuringly at her.

“Yup!” He chirps cheerfully. “Just-” He gestures at his phone.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She leaves, looking much more mischievous than she ever had before.

Viktor stares exasperatedly at her back.

Thursday is much more busier, and in a way, louder than any of the days he has seen lately.

Yuri Plisetsky almost kicks down the door to the entrance in anger, and Viktor is to his service as soon as possible.

“My usual,” Yurio snarls in his own I’m-angry-and-you-shouldn’t-mess-with-me (yet quite endearing) way, but Viktor is not deterred by his attitude.

He cocks his head to the side, “I’m sorry, but what is your usual again? I seem to have forgotten.” He flashes a quick smile to the teenager, “You know how my memory is like, Yurio!”

“You bastard- my name is not- what do you mean, you forgot my usual?! I come here every week!”

“Hahaha!”

“Old man!”

His much more drawn-out resounding laughter only angers the boy more, but at least it helps Yuri relax for the first time since entering the shop. Viktor is glad.

Thursdays, he decides. Thursdays are great.

He remembers the first time the man walked in.

It had been a vivid Monday morning, just as the fifth or sixth customer had walked out of the coffee shop holding a hot cup of their preferred drinks.

Bright hazel-brown eyes behind a pair of blue-black spectacles, shortened black hair.

“Yuuri,” he had said, after Viktor had asked the name of the newcomer. “Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Hmm...” Viktor had replied back then. “We have another customer by the name of Yuri too. With a different surname, of course.”

“What would you like to order?”

“A caffè mocha, please.”

Fridays are supposed to be relaxing.

Here’s another fact that Viktor has gathered from working in Ice Castle: it is not.

Viktor hates Fridays.

That’s all.

Yuuri arrives on a Friday evening, looking a bit down.

Viktor hands him a caffè mocha without prompting, knowing that the man needs some time to himself at the moment.

Yuuri keeps silent throughout his entire stay at Ice Castle, and Viktor stays quiet as a supportive figure all the while.

He cannot push Yuuri.

A few weeks later, Yuuri visits once again, on a Friday. Viktor is relieved, as Yuuri hasn’t been coming as frequently as he would’ve liked recently.

Yuuri spills everything that has been plaguing his mind.

About his skating career, that has been in the dumps lately due to lack of inspiration. About his dog, who recently died in a car crash and he hasn’t seen in five years. About his family, who he just can’t let down.

“You figure skate? That’s so cool!”

Excited, Viktor had then marathoned all of Yuuri’s skating programs right after Yuuri had left the shop. He had even been scolded by Yakov for not doing his job properly enough with the lack of concentration he had.

Yuuri had become the most beautiful person he had even seen in his entire life, after that. Nothing, not even Yuuri could change that.

Saturday.

Saturdays are lazy.

Even though the sun shines bright outside, and the birds chirp positively atop branches of the sky-high trees, work must go on.

Viktor squints at the one customer that looks vaguely familiar, one that Chris has served while he had been idling by the sink.

He looks... Really familiar.

Disappointment sets in right away when he takes a closer look at the person’s face.

It’s not him.

Somehow, subtly and irrevocably, Katsuki Yuuri has become a huge part of Viktor Nikiforov’s life.

Just like Yakov, Chris, Mila, Yura, Georgi; Yuuri is irreplaceable to him as an important person to cherish deeply.

Viktor can’t have it any other way.

He is... incredibly happy.

Sunday is an off-day for him.

Usually he spends his break lying on his sofa, hugging Makkachin close to him and checking his social media. He usually speaks to his friends casually over the phone, even Yurio who spits fire at him for wasting his precious time.

But not today.

Today, he shuts off everything, turns off the notifications of his social media, mutes his phone and pulls Makkachin next to him to watch the video that’s streaming live in a couple of minutes.

The video stream is titled: “Katsuki Yuuri’s FS Live at the Rostelecom Cup”.

He is mesmerized, once again, as Yuuri skates across the beautifully crafted ice, performing jump after jump of phenomenal perfection, and he is in awe.

Yuuri is as graceful as he has ever been, all those years ago.

Viktor is aching with longing, wishing to reach out to the man that he has not seen in a long long time.

But all he can do is gaze at him through the clear screen, pining after the man he had once known.

All he can do is watch.

Because Yuuri probably doesn’t remember him, not anymore.

“I’m going back.”

“I’m going back... to Japan.”

All Viktor can do is gape at Yuuri, thunderstruck by the awfully shocking news he has been dropped with.

Yuuri... is going back to Japan. Japan, his hometown, with his family, who he hasn’t seen in years. Japan, which is the home he desperately misses.

Japan, which is miles away from here, from Russia.

“Alright,” he croaks out, hoping not to sound too heartbroken by it. God, he desperately hopes that Yuuri does not notice. “...When do you depart? I might sent you off at the airport. You are my favorite customer, after all.”

They both laugh, even the laugh is incredibly awkward and Viktor’s words seem so rushed and there is such a painful emphasis on the word customer-

Yuuri gazes back at Viktor, and softly whispers with a bittersweet smile, “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

No, don’t go, he thinks, and hates himself for it. He cannot control what Yuuri wants or does, and it’s just so agonizing.

He is going to miss him when he goes.

Viktor prepares one last caffè mocha for Yuuri.

It is Monday once again, and Viktor feels rightfully tired, what with the amount of replays he had done on the laptop well into the night.

But still, work must go on.

Mondays are tiring, but he still enjoys the work.

Just as he starts up his energy for the day, a thought hits him.

Yuuri is in Russia. What if-

He shakes his head. There is no way. Yuuri has forgotten about him and this coffee shop; he is sure of it.

That doesn’t prevent him from glancing at the door every time it is pushed open, though.

He knows he is being irrational.

The door jingles right open.

A man steps right inside, panting and covered in sweat. It is almost time to close.

Viktor turns around from where he is cleaning the table tops. “Sorry, we’re closed...” The words dry by his throat when he sees who it is.

Katsuki Yuuri steps forward hesitantly, “Umm...”

Viktor looks right into his eyes, wide-eyed and shocked.

“I’m sorry, but can you please make an exception just this once?” Yuuri pleads. “Please, if it’s that much of a bother I’ll go once you make the drink.”

Viktor straightens up, finding his voice again. “Okay, please sit down then. You- you don’t need to go after I make the drink, it’s alright. Take your time.”

Yuuri’s eyes flashes in relief, and he takes a seat on the table he usually sits in. Viktor’s heart jumps to his throat.

Yuuri opens his mouth, words clumsy with the man he hasn’t spoken to in a while. “I-I’d like to have a-”

“A caffè mocha?” Viktor speaks without thinking.

Yuuri looks disbelievingly at Viktor. Viktor gazes right back at him. His pulse races right along with his thoughts.

Together, at the same time, both of their lips slowly upturn with joy.

They remember.

Writing is fun. :)

Wow, how did I manage to write so much in such a short time??? It’s even longer than We Already Know, I think. I’ll post it on ao3 too, since it got too long.

Oh and I just realized I’ve written much more dialogue than usual. Yay

#yuri on ice #yoi #fanfic #good ol' coffee shop aus #im sorry I don't drink coffee I've only been in starbucks like twice #i blame all the incorrectness of this fic on that #i wanted to do a supernatural au but all the prompts on tumblr were like nope #on my love: fic rec #it's guuuud

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yoi-secret-valentines2017 · 7 years

Text

Be Mine

For: @moni-neechan (I anon-asked you three times but I think Tumblr ate them all…)

From: @araminthe-ispwitch (I accidentally made this hard for myself but at least I didn’t ruin Viktor…? I fell asleep editing so I’m sorry, mod-san. OTL)

To anyone interested, don’t hesitate to try your hand at this prompt for Viktuuri, too—I’ll admit this could use some more work so I don’t mind seeing other, more detailed versions. Enjoy and Happy Valentines! ^u^

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Yuri on Ice

Rating: T

Pairing/s: Viktor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki

Summary: A Viktuuri fic for the prompt “you were drunk and proposed to me but i’m not sure how to bring it up now you’re sober bc i totally would have said yes au"—or rather, an AU in which coaching him wasn’t the only thing a drunken Yuuri had unknowingly asked of Viktor Nikiforov.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

Viktor Nikiforov was a simple man.

(Lies, his coach Yakov Feltsman would say, and his fellow skaters would unanimously agree upon, but Viktor was just far too busy to acknowledge their sentiments about his high-maintenance lifestyle to even dismiss them.)

It didn’t take a lot to please him. Good food, nice living arrangements, a flawless PCS, the best dog chow for his poodle, maybe a nice vintage car thrown in, and Viktor would be all yours. Honestly, it was a total mystery as to why none of the people he’s dated for the past several years had stuck around to pop the big ol’ question to him.

(“Because they all realized he’s an ass,” Coach Yakov and the fellow skaters would seriously answer.)

But as Viktor fought to stand upright against the eager advances of one drunk Yuuri Katsuki, he’s come to realize with inner embarrassment that maybe his standards of proposing were just a little too uncanny for most.

Marry me, Viktor, he had said.

Be my coach, Viktor, he had said, as well—about several moments ago back at the banquet hall, with a large audience to witness his admittedly-sexy dance number.

Marry me, Viktor, he had said just now, sleepily grinning at him like it was the best idea he’s ever had. Viktor couldn’t blame him. Marrying the world’s greatest skater of the century was the greatest idea a fan could ever have.

MARRY ME, VIKTOR, HE HAD SAID—

“Whaddya think, Viktor?” slurred Katsuki, stumbling a bit but holding on to Viktor as if he doesn’t have any plans of letting him go anytime soon. “It’d be great, right?”

Oh, yes, it’d be great, thought the hopelessly-romantic Russian skater breathlessly. It’d be fucking great, indeed. He wouldn’t mind getting married to that sweet as—

No, no, he was getting ahead of himself.

While, admittedly, Yuuri Katsuki was an interesting man with interesting… proposals… Viktor should face them and him with a clear head. He had already let his fanciful mind run free with Yuuri’s plea to be his student—he couldn’t start fantasizing about marrying him, too. He had to be the professional one between them since the other was currently drunk out of his mind.

(He would admit that he had been thinking about going on a date with the Japanese skater after their dance, though. He just hadn’t been expecting things to escalate quickly to marriage. Damn, how many surprises does this man have up his sleeve?)

Viktor quietly groaned, holding Katsuki up steady as the man started grinding him against the wall and nuzzling his neck. Why did he decide to walk the guy back to his suite again?

Ah, yes. He wanted to see if there were more “surprises” in store for him.

After a few more champagne glasses and impromptu dances, Viktor was suddenly hit with the brilliant idea of doing the escorting himself and quickly persuaded Katsuki before his flustered coach Celestino could take him off his hands. Yakov and Yuri both knew what was really up, though, and so Viktor hadn’t bothered giving them an excuse.

“Hey, I’ll just bring our friend here back to his room. I think he’s had enough to drink.”

“Keep telling yourself that, old man…”

“Don’t wait up for me~!”

But now, faced with the (admittedly) very demanding marriage proposal and a bleary-eyed man looking up at him with pure adoration, Viktor found himself unable to touch him any further than this polite support of his arms. It felt… wrong.

Too sacred.

Too innocent and pure for his less-than-innocent-and-pure intentions.

(Which was ironic considering what happened back at the party…)

He had always imagined a proposal to him in the most romantic set-up ever, and it was obvious that Yuuri Katsuki was too far gone to pull off something like that, but for some reason, his reverent utterance of the words to Viktor shook him to the core.

Just like when he asked him to be his coach.

“Oh, I know!”

Startled, Viktor watched with cerulean eyes as the Japanese man stumbled away from him and approached the door just across them. The silver-haired man sighed in relief; he has been afraid that he’d have to manhandle Katsuki into his room somehow. It was just in front of them yet the other had managed to pin him to the wall before he could open it.

He was starting to regret doing of all this, especially when it was obvious that Katsuki wasn’t thinking straight. At first, Viktor had just been curious about the timid man who had walked away from him and had avoided interacting with anybody at the party. That part wasn’t surprising, considering he placed last in the competition. But just after a few hours of alcohol, Viktor had already found his life suddenly spinning out of its axis. He couldn’t help gravitating towards the black-haired man, wanting to know more about him. Though now…

Katsuki fumbled with his keycard, quietly hiccupping every now and then. Viktor moved to assist him, smiling uneasily when the other let out a childish whoop and bounded almost gracefully into the dark open room. Maybe he should just leave.

It was one thing to contemplate about the coaching offer—it was entirely another thing to take the other proposal seriously. This was too personal, even for him.

(Viktor tried not to think about both offers actually being a joke from the drunken man.)

“Here, Viktor!”

The Russian man blinked up in surprise, Katsuki already back to his side. He was holding up a large blue paperclip.

“Oh… that’s nice?” suggested Viktor with a confused but amused smile.

“No, no!” Despite already looking tired and about to collapse, Katsuki charged on, straightening out the clip with an adorably-cute concentrating expression. Viktor wasn’t sure what this was about anymore, but he figured he could humor him just a little bit longer before getting him to rest and politely leaving the suite.

“There!” And now Katsuki was holding up a thin blue circle of wire. He grinned at Viktor once again. “Marry me?”

Viktor swore he felt his heart stop.

He barely realized that Katsuki was already grabbing his hand, slipping the makeshift ring onto his finger, and babbling about how he doesn’t have anything appropriate at the moment but he’ll make sure to buy his new fiancé a proper ring next time. The world shifted and blurred and Viktor was pretty sure that he really was drunk now. This was probably a nice dream. It had to be.

There was no way Yuuri Katsuki was this extraordinarily amazing within just an hour of meeting him—or was this ridiculous.

“Yuuri!”

Both men turned dazedly to a worried-looking Celestino power-walking towards them. “I’m sorry, Viktor, I should have—”

“I-It’s fine,” cut off Viktor, waving away his concerns and trying to act normal once again—the slight press of the thin wire between his fingers greatly distracting him. “It wasn’t a big deal…”

Katsuki laughed airily and hiccupped again, leaning clumsily on the doorframe. “Let’s celebrate, Celestino!”

“Now, now, that’s enough of that. You’re already yawning,” reasoned the coach, and he proceeded to usher his student further inside the room before he could try to start anything outlandish again.

“Anyways, thanks for your help, Viktor.”

Viktor blinked and automatically, a charming smile forming on his lips—though he could tell they hardly twitched into the proper shape. “No problem…”

The door gently shut close in front of him—he heard Katsuki whine loudly before the noise had been cut off from the outside world—and he took a step back.

And he forced himself to take another and another until he was no longer standing idle and looking like an idiot.

He halted and raised his right hand, where the fake ring was still stuck. How did he know to put it there…? he thought as he plucked it off and studied it with unfocused eyes. It was just a piece of plastic and wire, crudely formed into a circle that was far too big for his slim finger to fit snugly into.

And yet it was an engagement ring.

Viktor pressed his lips thinly. It was not.

Be real, Viktor.

He resumed walking, ready to just throw himself underneath the covers of his bed and hide away from all the problems he needed to face as an aging skater. At the thought, he squeezed the item gently in his palm. Katsuki was drunk and was probably joking, anyway. And honestly, Viktor shouldn’t even be fantasizing about anything—he had only interacted with him today and a marriage proposal was utterly ridiculous at this point in their acquaintanceship. Everybody knew that.

And yet… Viktor kept thinking about how it would feel like to say yes.

He was an idiot.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

He was an idiot.

Katsuki had left so early the next day—without even a word about what happened at the banquet—and had disappeared throughout the rest of the season that Viktor soon understood their situation, though not soon enough. It had been so obvious. The marriage proposal was, of course, just a joke—and Viktor kept shaking his head for even taking it seriously since he had been a bit tipsy himself that night—but what really hurt was knowing that the coaching proposal wasn’t going to happen.

Viktor had been hoping that it would. That was why he had kept his eyes on Yuuri Katsuki the entire night.

Katsuki was fairly silent on social media—to the point that Viktor began wondering if perhaps he had already retired somehow without the world knowing about it—and this didn’t help Viktor in trying to find out what to do about him.

Well… there was nothing to it. He just had to continue skating.

But that all came crashing down when he saw the video.

As cerulean eyes reverently tracked every movement on the screen, every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do something to the Japanese man. Months of silence had formed the questions in his mind—Where were you? Why didn’t you contact me? Were you just playing with me? How could you?—but the sight of Yuuri dancing his program so beautifully washed them all away almost effortlessly.

After a time, his eyes fell on the deformed paperclip that the man had so proudly presented as his ring for Viktor. It was stupid, but Viktor had found himself unable to throw it away.

He picked it up from the shelf and proceeded to form it properly to fit his finger, his mind already swimming with plans.

The marriage proposal was a joke…

Viktor’s eyes softened.

… but the coaching offer might not be.

He didn’t dare slip the thin wire on, but his heart couldn’t help skipping a beat.

(It was at this moment that Viktor decided he should start wearing necklaces.)

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

“Makkachin, I don’t understand…”

The fluffy poodle had already sadly whined for the both of them, but Viktor still keenly whined on his own as he hugged his dog for comfort. He had come to Japan despite Yakov’s threats and had gladly taken Yuuri’s offer with a seductive (naked) flourish back there at the hot spring, but for some reason, Yuuri just looked constipated at the sight of him.

It had quickly become apparent to Viktor then that Yuuri felt awkward about that night and wasn’t sure how to relax around the silver-haired man.

Viktor wiped his budding tears away with a sniff, and reached out towards his charging phone on the sleeping mat, where his little treasure was carefully set aside. Fortunately for Viktor, Georgi knew a lot about accessories, especially necklaces—caring for them and even crafting them with simple materials. After finally forming the paperclip into the ring design he wanted, Georgi helped him pair a nice chain for it and added a few more simple baubles to complete the whole look. Now the “engagement” ring was a cheap-looking but lovingly-crafted piece of accessory. There was now a brilliant light-blue bead inserted on it as its gemstone of sorts, and Viktor couldn’t help loving it more.

The Russian man thumbed the design, letting Makkachin snuggle further into his chest. He didn’t really know how this simple piece of blue plastic and wire managed to become so precious to him—he had already scolded himself several times for even thinking about what happened after the banquet—but in a way, Viktor guessed that it was because he had already attributed it to himself. He came across it the moment Yuuri Katsuki pushed him forward with a great and ground-breaking idea for his career and somehow, the ring now symbolized Viktor’s new beginnings.

Yuuri may not even find it important, but Viktor was going to keep it with him as a reminder of his decisions.

(The ring wasn’t the first of many trivial items Viktor Nikiforov got attached to over the years, but it would be the first of Viktor’s collection of Yuuri memorabilia.)

Viktor sighed deeply, hugging Makkachin tighter. The problem now, though, was Yuuri. He was different from the one he met at the party, that much was obvious, but this excessive shyness wasn’t helping his case at all. Hopefully, the ice would serve as their means of communication and make Yuuri lower his guard around Viktor. He really did want to get to know Yuuri better, after all.

Tomorrow’s another day! Keep going, Vitya!

He came all the way here to coach the man, and by god, Viktor was going to fucking coach him!

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

(C: you mean you’re going to fuck him

V: what no

V: I mean

V: not NOW)

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

Fortunately, as the months passed by, Viktor found their relationship deepening with every day Yuuri made an effort to approach him. They never talked about the banquet, but it seems they didn’t actually need to for Yuuri to open himself up more. Viktor was glad; as Yuuri promised him to make up for everything with his skating, he smiled and relaxed as the sea breeze came over him. His patience and understanding were starting to pay off.

Life with Yuuri was really good right now.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

“You must really like that necklace,” commented Yuuri the morning before the Cup of China short program competition. Viktor blinked in surprise, and blinked some more when he realized that Yuuri had finally remarked on his constant accessory. Throughout the months of training, he wore it proudly like a banner only he understood. (Chris, too, to an extent, when a drunken Viktor whined about his woes to him one time.) No one had really ventured past a compliment when it came to his preciously-worn ring (Yurio had mostly glared at him and kept insulting him and Yuuri during the time he was with them), and so this was also the first time that his preference for it was pointed out.

Viktor opened his mouth, about ready to regale the story of that one beautiful night… and paused.

What was he doing? He was here to coach.

“Yeah,” he said instead. “I half-made it myself.” His throat felt a little dry.

“Oh, really?” Yuuri smiled, curious, but Viktor couldn’t really push himself to entertain the subject any longer, so he smoothly changed the topic after a few more remarks about his necklace.

It didn’t mean anything else to him other than a symbol of his turning point. What would Yuuri benefit from hearing about how he had proudly (drunkenly) presented that ring to Viktor, anyway? They were here to win and the silver-haired man wasn’t about to distract his student with trivial matters. He had never talked about the ring with anyone else other than Chris (accidentally), and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

You wanted to say yes, you flighty coward.

No.

You did. Just one night and you were so easily swayed.

If Viktor was quiet for the rest of the journey to the arena, Yuuri didn’t comment on it.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

Maybe in his forgotten dreams, Viktor had envisioned something like this, but after everything they had been through, he just couldn’t believe that it would all culminate into him kissing the hell out of Yuuri Katsuki on live television.

He hadn’t realized it, but he had spent the rest of the night thumbing his ring pendant gently.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

The thumbing was such an ingrained habit by now that, for the whole time Viktor was separated from Yuuri by miles of ocean, he hadn’t let go of his necklace once. When he realized it, he only felt a little bit embarrassed before the worry came back in full-force once again. Apparently, caressing it really helped.

It got him through the final grueling hours of waiting for Yuuri’s plane, and honestly, the people in the airport should be thankful it had prevented him from going crazy.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

Viktor honestly didn’t know where to start.

The thick gold band on his right hand’s ring finger was such a huge presence in his mind right now that Viktor barely heard what Yuuri was telling him. Flashbacks of that night kept repeating before his eyes, and the usually-light pendant on his necklace felt heavy for a moment underneath his scarf.

“T-Tell me something for good luck…?”

Cerulean eyes snapped back to soft, hesitant brown ones.

I, uh, dunn really have *hic* anythin’ appo-propriate at the moment but… I’ll make suuuure to buy my new fiancé—fiancé! He he—a *hic* proper ring next time, o-kay~? Maybe a nice goooold one? He he…

A warm smile spread almost unconsciously on Viktor’s lips and he determinedly took Yuuri’s hand, already knowing what to say. When they hit the streets once again to hunt for a good restaurant, he could almost feel his necklace jingling and bouncing softly against his coat.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

“I couldn’t even talk to Viktor.”

There was no time stop his spit-take—out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri was smiling so innocently that Viktor’s shock made his beer fly even further.

(“VIKTOR YOU’RE FUCKING DISGUSTING UGH”)

Viktor hurriedly slammed his mug down and turned to his fiancé with a worried expression. “Y-Yuuri, you don’t remember?”

At the Japanese man’s confusion, it was Chris who explained. “Yuuri, you got drunk on champagne and started dancing. Everyone saw it.”

“Huh?!”

“That was disgusting as hell,” piped in Yurio. “I was dragged into a dance-off and got humiliated, too!”

“A dance-off?! With Yurio?!”

“I did mine with a pole dance—half-naked.”

As the black-haired and bespectacled man beside him let out a horrified screech, Viktor sat silently, staring at his mug with unseeing eyes.

Yuuri didn’t remember.

Yuuri… didn’t… remember…?

Suddenly, everything that happened between them for the past eight months—from the moment he announced his intentions buck-naked to the moment Yuuri slipped that thick gold band on his finger—made so much more sense now. He glanced at the man, seeing him muttering to himself with embarrassment clear in his eyes, and his pendant suddenly felt heavier.

You asked me to coach you.

No wonder he was so confused that first day. Viktor had been trying to seduce him, after all—plus, he had come in the wake of Yuuri’s viral video.

You asked me to marry you.

Heh.

Yuuri really had been drunk out of his mind that time.

… No.

Cerulean eyes warmed with affection as he visually caressed the distraught features of his fiancé. Yuuri may have forgotten, but all of those eight months had been real. It had led them to where they were now, and Yuuri wanted him now—whether he remembered that proposal or not.

That, more than anything, took his breath away.

He smiled impishly at the man, holding his phone up. “I still have videos of what happened.”

This is an engagement ring.

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

Later that night, lying on their beds with the lights dimmed, Viktor told everything that Yuuri apparently forgot about in his drunken stupor. He was immensely enjoying Yuuri’s tomato-red complexion at the moment, the satisfaction filling him in knowing that his previous failed attempts of seduction and pining for so long were now being avenged at the sight of his flustered fiancé.

His beautifully-flustered fiancé.

“I can’t believe I actually did all of that…” mumbled Yuuri with a whine behind his hands.

“I can’t believe you forgot that you already proposed to me,” retorted Viktor offhandedly.

But that got Yuuri’s attention.

“H-How did that happen…?”

Viktor grinned. He told him.

Now Yuuri buried himself under the covers and the pillow.

“Oh, lighten up, Yuuri. It’s fine! I actually thought you were cute—although I was getting frustrated since you kept stirring my hard-o—”

“It’s not fine! I demanded you to marry me, Viktor! How could I have even done that?!”

“And then you slipped a ring on me,” continued Viktor. Yuuri slowly got out of his makeshift fort and stared at him. Surprisingly, his doe-like eyes slowly traveled down Viktor’s chest.

“… Is that the ring?”

Viktor’s eyes widened—and he huffed a laugh as he picked up his pendant. “Yeah.” The brilliant light-blue bead was as brilliant was ever.

“You wore it all this time.”

“I did.”

Yuuri’s eyes cast downward as he lied on his side. “… Why?”

When he looked up again, Viktor had already moved to lie on his side as well, facing him and propping an arm to cradle his head. The silver-haired man smiled. “I guess because I was waiting for you to ask me again—properly this time.”

Their hands clasped in the dimness of the room, but the entwined fingers and the rings on them faintly sparkled as if they were silently speaking for their owners’ feelings for each other.

“I mean, you were pretty drunk and proposed to me, yeah, but I wasn’t really too sure on how to bring it up back then while you were sober because I totally would have said yes to that ass, you kn—”

“V-V-VIKTOR!”

♪~۵~❋~♪~۵~❋~ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ~❋~۵~♪~❋~۵~♪

When Yuuri joined him and Yurio in St. Petersburg for training, Viktor was overjoyed to note that he was now wearing his own necklace.

Viktor was nothing if not a romantic at heart, and even Yuuri couldn’t deny that the idea of matching the first “engagement” ring sounded nice. Phichit, on vacation in Japan, and the triplets and their mother were only too happy to help in creating the accessory. With video calls from Georgi and online tutorials at their side, Yuuri’s own necklace was soon completed.

It was only made of a red paperclip fashioned into a ring with a brilliant pink bead, but nothing was ever going to compare to it—except maybe their gold rings and their future wedding ones.

(Viktor’s fiancé notes with irony how the necklaces, while simple-looking, are actually not. Coach Yakov and the rest of the rink reply that that’s because Viktor was anything but simple.)

#yoi secret valentines #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #writing #submission

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