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Reasons To Keep You Here (Yuri x AFAB Immigrant Reader) Part 4

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You have been having a wonderful time reconnecting with your brothers nearly every week since the incident. Yuri would mostly keep to himself during these visits, something you knew was for the better with how pushy Kris was. It’s not the best idea to have the two hotheads begin to argue again. But…

With your new recognition came new responsibilities, and new meetings you had to attend with other publishers. You apologized to Yuri as you got ready, begging him to please take in and take care of the boys when they got to your apartment.

‘I’ll come straight home after the meeting! It won’t… be long I hope, damnit!’ You stubbed your foot while moving to get something. Yuri catches you as you stumbled from the pain, letting you reorient yourself with his hand still on your shoulder as he groans.

‘Uuugh. Okay. I’ll let them in and tell them to go to their room.’

You put your foot back down gently, still wincing, but grateful it wasn’t that bad.

‘Thanks, Yuri.’ Without thinking, you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and looked at him, giving it a pat.

‘I can count on you.’

Yuri gave your shoulder a squeeze and bonked your head with his slightly. ‘Yeah yeah! Don’t make me give you another headbutt and leave already!’

You laughed and clutched your forehead at the threat. ‘Never again!’ You moved away and got your bag. ‘Alright. Goodbye!’

‘… bye.’

It was half an hour before the kids were dropped off. Your mom was very eager, seeing Yuri be the one opening the door, to begin talking his ear off and ask questions about you. He closed the door as soon as your brothers came inside.

‘Alright, twerps.’ Both boys looked up at him. Yuri gave off the aura of a general ordering his cadets.

‘Y/N is out of the house right now for something work-related. You’re not allowed to make a mess, put up a fuss, or ask me questions. Just… go to your room and do whatever until she’s back.’

He waved them off, dismissing them, but predictably, Kris wasn’t having none of it.

‘When is Y/N coming back?’

‘…. I don’t know.’

‘What’s her work?’

‘…. I can’t tell you.’

‘Sounds like you don’t know that either.’

‘I know her work! It’s just secret.’

‘Yeah sure.’ Kris shook his head, imitating his dad when he didn’t like someone. ‘I bet you don’t know anything about her. Like her favorite color, or her favorite ice cream flavor-‘

Yuri answered both questions immediately. He smirked at Kris’s face. Kris began listing other stuff, all of which, Yuri was getting right. He had never asked you for any of your preferences… but he already knew. His observation skills and previous background check on you was thorough.

Kris stomped his feet, stopping himself from going any further. ‘Alright! Sure! You may know stuff about Y/N but that doesn't excuse how FAKE you feel!’

Yuri felt his interrogator senses trigger. Kris wasn’t just trying to annoy him, Yuri was being interrogated. He was trying to find a fault in him.

‘What do you mean fake? I haven’t lied to you!’ That he knew of.

Kris was adamant in his response. ‘It’s this whole marriage! It doesn’t feel real! You two don’t ACT like you’re married’

Yuri’s eyebrows raised, his annoyance hit a peak. ‘And how exactly are we supposed to act? Are you an expert now shrimp? How many girls have you married?’

Kris got flustered and looked away from Yuri, clasping his arms to his chest. ‘W-Well, I haven’t met the right girl yet! But I know from TV how you’re supposed to be!’

Kris got serious, but his face stayed red. ‘W-When you love someone… you gotta show them off!!! Be all lovey dovey and supporting and… gross! That’s how everyone knows you’re in love, right? Mom and dad do it all wrong… I just don’t want Y/N to be like….’

He stopped himself, now feeling shyer. This got too real. He backed off and waved his arms around. ‘ANYWAYS- That’s how I’LL do it! I’ll be so in love with my wife! I’ll make her the happiest woman in the world!’

Yuri snickered, taking the kid’s words too seriously. ‘Of course you’d believe everything on TV. You don’t know any better. Couples can love each other in… many different ways.’ Yuri gave a mild shrug. ‘Y/N and I are just different.’

‘So… you do love her?’

Out of the blue came Charles’s little voice. Yuri had forgotten about him. His eyes turned wide at his mistake, his face quickly became enflamed from the sudden attack. It didn’t help that the boys were staring at him expectantly. Yuri looked away and grumbled a response.

‘…. I married her, didn’t I?’

Kris became indignant. ‘BAH, that’s not good enough! You’re just like my dad! If you can’t even say it what kind of man are you?’

‘I WILL NOT BE LECTURED BY A 7 YEAR OLD!’

‘Y/N DESERVES BETTER, YOU’RE SO FULL OF IT!’

‘YOU-‘

‘I think…,’ once again, Charles decided to speak up, making the two others stop. ‘I think that… that’s ok, Kris. Y/N also has a hard time saying it…’

Charles paused to nervously touch his wrists.

‘Maybe… maybe it really is more complicated than we thought. Maybe love can come after marriage? Maybe it changes. I don’t know but… I’m just glad she’s happy.’

Charles stopped fidgeting and gazed up at Yuri. He gave him a sincere smile.

‘Thank you for marrying her. Thank you for helping her. I’m grateful… that you are our brother.’

Yuri was caught off-guard. He could only give back a nod, still staring as Charles took Kris by his hand.

‘You need to leave them alone, Kris.’

‘WHAT?! Just because he helped Y/N meet with us-‘

‘Stop it! Shh! No more. Come on.’

Charles dragged his brother to their guest bedroom and closed the door. Yuri was left alone in the living room.

…. You were definitely going to be late today, he realized. With the changes happening in your work, you would probably have to do a lot at the office today.

Yuri sighed and went for your apron. He decided… he could make some snacks for the boys for now.

He gave in to hazy thoughts as he began trying to recreate something Loid had made that looked simple. The idea of you being unable to tell your brothers that you love him… crept as he was cutting celery.

Neither of you loved the other.

That was that, right? That was normal and ok. You didn’t get married because you WANTED to. It was convenience. But even then-

You at least like him, right? You were both friends now! Solidified friendship. So why was it so hard for you to pretend to be in love when your marriage wasn’t in question like with his Boss? Why were you telling your brothers stuff like that? Is it really such a stretch to go from ‘like’ to ‘love’ as a little white lie?

He didn’t realize he had cut the celery too finely until he looked down.

Ah well.

He put it on a bowl and, after much debate, decided peanut sauce was what Loid had used for his snacks with Anya. He dribbled raisins on everything to finish it and stared proudly at his work. He was just as good as Loid. As a man AND as a husband.

… your siblings begged to differ. They cried to you when you came back, claiming that Yuri was trying to poison them. Yuri had eaten all the evidence, and yelled back that they were lying, peanut sauce still on his chin.

You were home.

A few days later, you dragged your feet as you came home after yet another meeting in a series of horrid, pointless meetings. You slumped on the couch and hid your face with a pillow.

You thought things were finally going well. You thought you’d finally cemented your place in the paper! But…

After your success with the polling… the ones in charge have decided to keep your comic. With a new artist taking over.

The way they saw it, if they were going to pay you an average salary, they might as well be paying a man. It’s not like you needed the money anymore.

You were married. You’d be taken care of.

So they told you, plain and simply, without room for argument, that you would be having an understudy come by and learn your tricks.

You felt… numb. All your passion, your years of building your story, your characters, your art. It came down to just this.

You were never good enough to keep around. You weren’t a man.

You were so ANGRY. You cried and stayed on the couch until Yuri came home. He lugged bags from a restaurant, you had both agreed on him bringing food that day. Seeing you as you were, he was quick to ask you what was wrong. He immediately put down the bags on your living room table and knelt down to take the pillow from your face. His concerned, piercing eyes met your red ones.

You explained the situation and he was completely on your side with rage. Who the fucking hell did these assholes think they were? After YOU brought them new readers. After YOU worked so hard for so little. They were going to give that to someone else?

Yuri shook his head and got up.

‘I’m not allowing THAT.’

Your mourning was put on hold as his response brought you back to the letter your step-father had sent you. Yuri’s influence on others. You sat up immediately and grabbed onto his sleeve.

‘Wait- No- Stop!’

Yuri paused as he looked at you, questioning.

‘I don’t want you… to have to fix this. You’ve already done a lot… it’s not right to keep asking for your help.’ You got up and rubbed your raw eyes. You tried looking at him with conviction.

‘It’s… alright. Don’t pull any strings. This isn’t your responsibility.’

Yuri was aghast at your attitude.

‘So you’re just going to let them win?’

‘No.’ You held his sleeve a little tighter before letting go. You buried your fingers in your hair in thought.

‘I’ll come up with something… I won’t let them get rid of me that easily.’

You tried smiling at Yuri. He wasn’t sure of what you could do… but it wasn’t in his place to interfere further. Still…. It was so FRUSTRATING.

He placed a hand on your head and rubbed it hard. ‘Alright. I’ll leave it to you, but damn it… don’t go letting your pride win. If I can help, just use me! Don’t forget, the comic… is important to me too.’

He let go of you and moved to set up the kitchen for your dinner. You felt reinvigorated. You had to come up with a plan…

Your replacement came the next few days and, though you tried being civil at first… the young man was not giving you any respect or paying your advice any mind.

Not that you were trying too hard to get him to listen… but it still left you feeling completely dumbfounded by his attitude and insistence that his way of doing things would be better. He believed himself better than you. He would leave his mark and move this comic to an elevated status.

You never argued back and simply gave your world-renowned strained smile. His ideas were stupid. His style, sloppy. You hated everything he created, and you knew the public would too. This was too easy.

It was a mess.

His strips were not getting the reception they should have. The things he thought he could get away with… were coming up to bite him in the ass.

His art style changes were seen as tacky. His out-of-character moments were like highlighters that something was wrong. Children did not like this. Parents of children in love with the series were not for this either.

Yuri’s coworker was one such parent.

‘Have you SEEN what they did to the imaginary friend this week?’ The man slapped down his newspaper on the table, disgruntled.

‘They made her forget everything she learned about being a good friend! Now she’s just acting like a jerk again, and why? They haven’t even picked up on the father’s secret gift yet! It’s like the creator forgot everything. It’s only disappointing my Camila more and more.’

Yuri’s eye twitched as he recalled you telling him that your replacement thought that plotline was dumb, so he cut it. After all the suspense you had built…. Yuri crumpled his own paper.

‘… I’m sure it’s not the creator’s fault.’

‘Pardon?’

The coworker looked at Yuri with raised eyebrows. How could it not be? Yuri sighed and lowered his head.

‘I just mean…. Maybe it’s the bosses of the creator pushing them around to change things.’ Yuri twisted his hand through his hair. ‘Think of it like when we censor the news. Comic strip companies sometimes do the same with their creators.’

The coworker blinked a few times before letting out a gruff sound. ‘Well that’s STUPID. Why change something that was already good?’

Yuri nodded. He was wondering what your plan was again. So far, you had just been obediently looking over the jerk that was supposed to replace you. It grated on his nerves… but he promised you not to meddle. Still…

‘You should write a letter to the paper with your grievances. They need to know, if you want them to bring back the quality of the comic.’

Yuri watched his coworker’s face turn thoughtful, then serious. ‘That’s a good idea… I’ll do it with my daughter when I get back home.’ The coworker let out a smile and looked Yuri in the eye. ‘I take it you have already sent your own?’

Yuri thought about the many, many complaints he had stacked and sent directly to the publisher’s mailbox. He smiled, a threat evident in his voice.

‘I’m doing my part.’

‘HAHAHAHA!’ The coworker burst in laughter, shaking the table. ‘You really love these comics… it’s cute that you have this childish hobby, Yuri.’

The younger man became embarrassed at being called childish. He turned away with a huff.

‘I’m allowed to have my interests…’

‘Yeah, nothing wrong with it. I’m glad to be able to connect with you over it! You’re usually very…’ The coworker thought through his word choice. ‘Peculiar with your conversation topics. It’s hard to be able to find common ground with you sometimes, heh. But this is nice!’

Yuri’s eyebrows knit together with curiosity over what the man meant. Was something wrong with him before? He considered the past, and what he would talk about with coworkers.

…. Just work, polite small talk and….

Ah. Yor. The very reason he had joined the Secret Police.

Yuri thought through his friends. He didn’t have many… and the ones he did were through having mutual interest in obscure things. He had yet to make any friends in his new department with the Secret Police… and now he did. He smiled, realizing it was thanks to you.

‘Yeah… this is nice.’

Four weeks and four awful strips later, you were supposed to be fired on the fifth one. However, the paper came on the same day with a secret news article from another department of the paper. The journalism one.

‘Creator of Beloved Comic Strip Gets Replaced.’

The scoop of the month.

In between your visits to the publishers, you also made trips to a reporter you’ve known for a while. They usually always complained about their designated ‘small stories’ while everyone else outshone them with the bigger news. You told them this could stir up something in the company… so they agreed to write it.

To write everything about it.

They published your name, gender, and your struggle; how underpaid you were compared to your coworkers, the lack of respect, the plans your replacement had to derail your characters. All of your grievances in one neat article. If you were going to be fired, you could afford to be vocal about it. One last bang.

Yuri didn’t find out about it until he went to work that Sunday. You had been excited all morning to see his reaction, but the man was late and simply sped by you handing him the paper. He had a busy day of going from point A to point B that day, moving one way and another trying to catch more news on a threat against an important figure. He stumbled back to work to change, exhausted and frustrated by his lack of information.

A few of his coworkers turned to look at him as he entered. The one he’d read the paper with was sitting expectantly with the paper in his hand.

‘SO! WE FINALLY KNOW WHY YURI GOT INTERESTED IN THE SUNDAY STRIPS, EH?’

‘…. What do you mean?’

He’s handed the article with everything on it. Zeroing in on your name, he realizes what you’ve done. He feels deaf as the man and others begin loudly teasing Yuri about keeping it a secret. He changed quickly and left them as they hollered at his get-away. When he got home, you were cooking dinner. He made you put down the knife you held before shaking you by your shoulders with exasperation, pride, and wonder.

What had you done? You held his hands and reassured him that this was your way of getting the last word. You wanted to cause a splash! Yuri was at his wit’s end with befuddlement on how to react. Now everyone knew you were a woman. Now everyone knew your name! He groaned and found himself giving you a hug. It was unexpected… but not unwelcome.

‘Ah- Yuri?’

‘GOD, YOU ARE TOO MUCH SOMETIMES!’

‘What do you mean?! I handled this well! I thought everything through!’

‘Yeah but-‘

He let go of you and looked at you. You were so innocent sometimes. What if someone stalked you? What if you got lash back for this by your publishers? You looked back with confusion, he looked so worried. You held his cheek with a hand.

‘It’s okay. I know what I got myself into. This was my choice.’

… once again, Yuri had to respect that. He closed his eyes and leaned a bit into your hand with a boise from the back of his throat.

‘FINE! Okay.’ He let you go and turned away, crossing his arms.

‘But if any trouble comes from this, I’m stepping in. This can get SERIOUS, Y/N. I’m not letting your pride keep me from helping.’

You smile at his pout, and don’t think as you reach out to continue hugging him from behind.

‘I can live with that… Thank you, Yuri.’

Yuri didn’t turn around, but he reached an arm behind him to touch your head. Neither of you realized just how comfortable you have gotten with physical affection.

The ramifications of you releasing your identity unfolded the following week.

The comic strip department came under fire from all sides. Unhappy readers sent multiple letters over the change in creators, clamoring to get you back, wondering why it mattered that you were a woman. You were a creator of something well-liked; the traditionalists reasoned that it’s not like you overstepped any social norms by telling a story. A rare few voiced you being an inspiration for their little girls to try drawing their own comics.

Everyone wanted you back.

The heads overlooking the paper talked to your bosses about you. An agreement was made.

Bring you back or else.

With a new contract that gave you everything you wanted and more (a PROPER raise! Not just what they were giving their normal male employees anymore!), you were back in the team.

You did it.

At the news that you were coming back to create the strips, Yuri’s work buzzed with comments about Yuri and his wife. They recalled how he used to be with them; polite but closed off. Uninterested in anything that wasn��t work or his sister.

Now he got to walk around the office with red cheeks, always dragged to one group or another to be egged on about his wife. Everyone wanted to know more about you. Yuri didn’t comply; he was too much of a flustered mess. He’d walk away and insist on everyone focusing on their work.

He overhears his coworkers at one point mention how this was the most they’ve ever seen Yuri invested in someone other than his sister.

‘Remember how much he’d insist he’d be single forever? Look at him now!’

‘Heh… that’s love.’ They laugh.

‘I’m so jealous of the bastard.’

Yuri decides to ignore this… but the comparison creeps into the back of his mind. You? On the same level as Yor?

How could you ever be?

After more digging on the threat to an important figure, Yuri was sent to a city far from yours to talk to other informants. It was a week of intensive, infuriating work full of dead ends. But at least he was finally coming home.

When talking to you over the phone, he had made an estimate that he would probably be back in the evening of the next day. It's 4am when he's finally at the door. Yuri knows you're probably asleep, and for some weird reason (that he can only chalk up to it having been his routine in the months prior)... he's feeling grumpy that he won't get to hear you welcome him home as you always do.

He was wrong.

'Yuri!'

'W-What?!'

You're right in front of him. Eyebags on full display, messy hair, pajamas, and a bit of an uneven wobble as you're standing. Yuri glances behind you and sees a now empty pot of coffee.

'You stayed up...'

'Yeah! I'm not doing anything tomorrow anyways. And...

I really wanted to see you.'

Maybe it's because you were sleepy and were coming off a caffeine high but...

... that last part was not something you had wanted to say out loud. You realized it too late, a hand over your mouth immediately showing highlighting mistake.

'AH! I MEAN- It was just too quiet here sometimes and- And I’d end up cooking too much food and!!! FOR WHATEVER REASON YOR HAS UM. BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH WORK AND LOID HAS BEEN TAKING CARE OF ANYA SO-!'

So, you had been lonely.

After living alone for so long...

You had gotten used to company. Without Yuri... your apartment felt so empty.

Your face was burning up. Yuri hadn't said a single thing. You felt like you'd fucked up. You tried doing damage control.

'Sorry... I didn't mean-.......?'

As you tried to look up at him, he placed a hand on your head and held it forcefully to stay down. What?

'????? Yuri????'

'Shut up. You're loopy.'

You felt his hand brush your hair a bit, getting lighter, almost like a pat, before it switched to be on your neck and he turned you around.

'Alright. You saw me! Seriously, you're like a dog! Go to sleep already, idiot!'

He was pushing you to your bedroom, fast. You tried fighting it.

'HEY! I'M NOT READY TO PASS OUT YET! I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU ABOUT YOUR TRIP! TELL YOU ABOUT SOME YOR THEORIES I MADE! YOU KNOW, YOU REALLY NEED TO BE LOOKING INTO HER WORK! THEY KEPT KEEPING HER ALL NIGHT THREE DAYS STRAIGHT-!'

This piqued Yuri's attention a bit. But not enough to stop. He pushed you into your room roughly.

'We can talk tomorrow! I have the day off!'

'REALLY?! YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT, JERK!'

Indignant, you turned around as quick as you could. Your door was already almost closed, but you did catch a glimpse of him. You saw corner of his mouth was moving up as he taunted you. His grin was mischievous, but his eyes were soft…

'I don't have to tell you EVERYTHING.'

The door closed. Now you both had to go to sleep but...

Neither of you were really successful in that endeavor.

You tossed and turned, the image of his expression firmly planted in your mind. Your heart raced from it. You’re fond of him- You’re fond of Yuri. You missed him. But that was it.

Right?

He was your friend. Someone you saw everyday… cooked for… celebrated with… could spend hours sitting next to each other without talking….

A list of intimate moments flashed before your eyes. His dumb ways of showing affection, his terrible cooking always done in an attempt to help you, the promises he kept, the apologies gave. Yuri was dependable and intelligent and… attractive….

You hid under your blankets, the shame caught up with you.

You were in danger.

You were getting a crush.

… Yuri is having a similar plight in the other room, completely oblivious to your meltdown. He thought about how he got to see you. How happy he felt that you waited. How…. Cute it was that you missed him.

…. Damn it. He groans into his pillow, face buried deep inside it.

Why are you doing things like this? Why is it driving him crazy???

He can’t let this be!

You are not worthy!

Between everything that had been going on, you hadn’t gotten to spend as much time with Anya as usual. But this Saturday, she insisted on staying over with you with her parents were away. Because of your apartment being smaller and Bond now having joined the family, the Forgers found it easier to have you stay at their apartment while they out. They trusted you enough not to go inside their rooms. The day should have gone without a hitch, but the reason Anya had requested for you that date… wasn’t just because she missed you.

Anya insisted on going to a park not close from home.

The suddenness of this request puzzled you. She’d always been a good girl and stayed inside with you. Why was she arguing so hard to go to this park today?

You tried giving her excuses on why you couldn’t… but her teary eyes… made you give in and put on a coat. It was fall now. You stepped out with Bond’s leash and Anya’s hand, trying hard to brush off the sudden anxiety trickling down from this unexpected day spent out in public. Anya’s happiness was more important.

It took a bus ride to get there, but Anya and Bond behaved rather well. You felt lucky to have such easy wards as you stepped outside with them. Now at the park, Anya held your hand tight and began dragging you around everywhere. She looked like she was checking every corner of the park looking for something. She would merely tell you that she wanted to sightsee a bit if you asked, but her intensity had you suspecting that was a lie. Anya could only look guiltily away as she knew her fib had failed.

Finally, at an icecream stand, she found what she was looking for. There, surrounded by multiple men and his two other friends stood Damian. Anya had known that he’d be there that day, but her dad would be busy trying to uncover another group doing jobs in his organization’s name, and her mom insisted on visiting a sick coworker. So, with you, who are so relaxed with the rules around Anya, she knew she had to take this opportunity!

She gave Bond a look and both nodded at the same time. She asked you for the leash and for money. You handed both over, thinking Anya was trying to act more grown up. You held in laughter as both child and dog marched over to the stand, heads high and legs straight like soldiers. You saw the group of boys take notice of her and begin talking to her.

So they were friends! Your smile widened at the sight. They were adorable as they squabbled, though the boy’s comments weren’t fully heard by you, you could see that whenever Anya looked the slightest bit down, he’d get worried and change his tone. These were good kids.

Finally, one of the big men around Damian mentioned that they had to keep moving. Damian understood and gave Anya one last point.

‘… I guess your dog is a little bit cool.’

Anya and Bond immediately perked up at that.

After this, you all got some lunch You asked Anya about the boys and, after some thought, she excitedly went on about her quest to make them her friends. You nodded along, a bit stunned by how serious she was taking this. You guessed she might have a crush, with how obsessed she seemed… You laughed a bit and gave her a head pat.

‘I wish you luck. From where I stood, it looked like he didn’t mind you at all. I might even go as far as to say he likes your company…’

Anya’s eyes sparkled. She leaned over her chair.

‘Really?’

You remembered the faces Damien made as Anya tried impressing him. You laughed some more at the memory of his red face.

‘Yeah! You’re a cute kid, Anya.’ You looked at her warmly with a smile.

‘Anyone would want to keep a girl like you.’

Anya’s face beamed for a second, before she deflated a bit and looked down at her hands. She didn’t talk much after that, worrying you a bit. You wondered if you said something wrong… you didn’t want to force her into letting you know, so you gently guided her out of the restaurant.

You were making your way home… but as you were waiting for the bus, Bond began acting up. He looked from one side to another, sniffing, and barked. You asked him what was wrong, but his eyes stayed on Anya’s, and they locked eyes for a while. It was like they were having a conversation in their heads… the sight was peculiar Anya’s hand on yours tightened. You looked at her and her lips were pulled to a grimace.

‘I- I’M SORRY, I FORGOT TO GET SOMETHING!’

‘What?!’

Anya let your hand go and got on Bond. The pair ran off from you in a flash. You were absolutely dumbfounded for a good three seconds before you started running after them.

‘ANYAA! BOND!! COME BACK!’

Like a lunatic, you chased them, but the dog was FAST. You stumbled through the streets, lost. What were you going to do? What could you do??

You searched from corner to corner, occasionally asking passerbyers if they’d seen a girl and a dog. Most skipped past you. You were panicking.

In your delirium, you weren’t looking where you were going. You face-planted the chest of a man as you whipped your head around a crowded street. Your alarm bells went off and you moved back, apologies spilling from your mouth. You looked at his chest and saw it was a police uniform. Your anxiety spiked for a second, remembering reports of deportations, but your worry for Anya overtook it fast. You moved to clutch his arm.

‘I-I’m sorry, officer, but I really need help with-!’

‘…. Damn it….’

You had looked up and locked eyes with the last person you expected to find.

Yuri.

It was Yuri in front of you with an officer’s uniform.

What was he doing here with that get up?

Finally, Yuri had gotten a tip on the case. The plan of these terrorists was to kidnap the youngest son of Donovan Desmond. After being told, he was rushed to Damian’s location to be a back up to his guards.

Being so far from your side of the city, he didn’t expect to run into you.

‘Y-Yuri? Why-‘

‘Ah- It’s a work thing!’ Yuri had a lie prepared. He didn’t expect an encounter like this to happen… but he always came prepared. He looked away and tried acting aloof.

‘… I was sent to collect some papers. They wanted me dressed like this to…. Avoid suspicion.’

That was shady. You made a face as you concluded.

‘Doesn’t… dressing you as an officer make you more suspicious? What kind of papers are you collecting…?’

‘……’ Yuri had no response to this. He tried smiling it off and changing the subject.

‘What did you need an officer for?’

‘AH! ANYA!’ You explained what happened with frantic motions. Yuri took in a breath and released it with exasperation over your carelessness.

‘You just let her?? You should have had a tighter grip on her!’

‘She’s always been a good girl! I didn’t know what she was doing!’

‘Ugh, Y/N…’

Yuri looked to the side, also scanning the crowd.

‘… We should look for a proper policeman. He should be able to get-‘

While scanning, he remembered his job. His target was no longer in sight. Yuri panicked and began moving through the crowd. You followed.

‘Huh? Yuri? Did you find one-‘

He wasn’t listening to you, zig-zagging through alleys and slim passages he knew the guards would prioritize using. He turned a corner and found what he was looking for. What he dreaded.

The dazed bodies of the guards littered the floor. You gasped at the sight, shaken. Yuri made a tsk sound as he knelt down to check on the guards. One was still sputtering.

Yuri began questioning the man on what happened. He was promptly told that a group of armed individuals shot from above. They were quick with their ambush, picking up the frightened boys and running. Yuri asked if he heard any sounds of a car, but he hadn’t. Yuri hoped that meant they were keeping them somewhere near.

As you listened to their conversation, you squinted and picked up something from the floor. A pink hair. Your heart dropped. You were down on the soldier’s level in a millisecond, grabbing him and asking if the kidnappers had taken a little girl and a dog.

The delirious man was confused.

‘They…. Didn’t take a girl but….’

He hazily recollected the shooting.

‘There was a dog. I could hear it, but I didn’t see it. After the men left, it ran past us.’

Adrenaline pumped inside you. That had to have been Anya and Bond. Yuri pushed you away to ask more questions, but the guard passed out by then. Fuck. He looked at your quivering form.

‘You need to leave. Get the police and report Anya missing. I have work-‘

You grabbed his shoulder before he could get back up. Your eyes were watery but determined.

‘I don’t know what’s going on, but this! Is Anya’s hair!!! She was here with Bond! They followed those men! Oh god, we need to follow them!!!’

‘WHAT?! Y/N, you’re being hysterical! Who even knows if Anya is going the same way as them, I mean why would she?? These are dangerous men! She’d be scared! You need to go, there’s nothing you can-‘

‘SHUT UP! I know it’s a long shot but….’ You thought about it for a bit. ‘…. There’s actually a high chance she IS following them. That girl’s sense of adventure is… scary. And what good will you do by yourself?? You’re an office worker, not in the military like your stupid suit suggests! They took the kids! They might have Anya now!!! AAAUGH!’

You got up, a protective nature taking you over. ‘WE’RE WASTING TIME! You can either come with me or go get the fucking police yourself!’ You ran to the direction the man had pointed. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but you were frantic, looking for traces anywhere of the dog or Anya.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuri was following you, trying to decide what to do. You couldn’t get involved. As a civilian… this was too dangerous, you could risk everything! He resolved himself to doing what he had to do, as his job entailed. Taking you out. He’d knock you out with a blow and deal with the consequences later.

He readied his arm, aimed as you paused to look around, and-

The image of you, scared of him, popped into his head and made his arm falter.

‘PAW PRINTS!’

You ducked to the pavement, and he missed.

There was a dirty puddle that pooled ahead of you, and from it there were light traces of water droplets and grit in the form of paws. You had a lead!

‘Come on, Yuri!’ You got back up and ran ahead. Yuri gripped his palm tightly, squeezing the fabric of his glove as he exhaled and followed you. He’s missing out on crucial time he should be using to find the kidnappers. He should be doing his work!!! He considered leaving you behind, but you were so engrossed in your following of the paw prints-

A door to someone’s residence opened and its occupant almost ran into you. Luckily, Yuri grabbed your shirt collar just in time. You thanked Yuri, apologized to the startled person, and kept going, walking faster now. You could not be left alone. This area is currently dangerously close to a shooting while the perpetrators were still out. He was sure you would find a way to get yourself involved and killed. He had to try knocking you out again, to keep you somewhere safe. To stop worrying about you…

He didn’t want you involved at all.

But every time he did, it was like a guardian angel blessed you from his strike, making him not fast enough, not committed enough. So he. Kept. Missing. And you, oblivious to it all, kept investigating. Eventually, clues left behind left you stopping by a corner and peeking past it to see… armed and men entering a back door. You punched the wall in triumph. Yuri… was impressed.

‘… You got lucky.’

‘No I didn’t! I followed Bond’s trail!’

‘What is that dog thinking? What is ANYA thinking???’

‘… If we get out of this, I am not taking them out again.’

‘Yeah,’ Yuri paused and looked at you. This had to be it. He’d do it now. He steeled his worry. ‘I’ll make sure you do-‘

He had moved to grab you, but you ran to the residence as soon as the last masked man went inside. Yuri’s worry grew tenfold at your boldness; they just went in!! What were you doing following them?!

He whisper-shouted at you. ‘Y/N! SERIOSULY!’ He moved to follow you. ‘Leave this alone!!! You’re going to get shot-‘

You both moved to the side of the rickety residence and were witness to a shaggy tail hopping through an open window.

Bond.

You ran to follow it, also scream-whispering now.

‘ANYA! BOOOND!’

The window was somewhat high, so you moved to be on your tiptoes to look inside. It was a hallway, and you could make out someone moving to the left, rounding a corner.

‘Yuri, help me!’

Yuri was not having it. He grabbed you by your sides and tried yanking you off.

‘No! I refuse! Let me handle it, Y/N, for fuck’s sakes-‘

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING? We’re already here! S-Stop grabbing there!!!!’ You made a squeak as he brushed something he shouldn’t have.

‘YURI!!!!!’

‘I WOULDN’T HAVE TOUCHED IT IF YOU’D JUST-‘

You both heard the sound of the back door open. Footsteps were coming out.

Time moved slowly for you as you were launched up to the window. You got halfway through and silently cursed in your head as you moved the rest of yourself in, trying very hard to make as little noise as possible as you fell inside. Yuri was surprisingly quicker and much more graceful with his entrance.

Now you were impressed.

‘Woah, you make that look easy-‘

‘God damn it Y/N…’ Yuri was pissed. Now you (a civilian) and him were both inside the enemy building, without a plan, without inside knowledge, and with kids on the line. He rubbed his forehead as he considered what to do, the stress getting to him. ‘… I should stuff you in a closet until this is over.’

‘And risk getting found and shot? No thanks.’ You tried moving past him to go to the corridor you knew Anya and Bond went to, but he snatched you. He didn’t want to let you go.

‘I’m deadly serious here, I think you should hide while I look for the kids.’

‘But I know where Anya went… come on, they turned this corner-‘

There were sounds of men making muffled, surprised noises, and a few thumps from the floor coming from the wall next to you.

You and Yuri locked eyes. Yuri sighed and grabbed you by the arm. He led the way as you both walked to the room the noises came from. He stayed outside and listened for any signs of someone being inside. He could only hear soft sounds like someone struggling with something. It could be the kids… He motioned for you to stand back as he cautiously opened the door…

The sight was unbelievable, as Anya and Bond were trying to untie the unconscious boys on the floor with the bodies of two unconscious men nearby. The four of you looked at one another. Anya and Bond shook as if they had been caught.

‘Anya!!!! I knew it! I told you Yuri!!! She was here-‘

‘And what IS she doing here?’ Yuri closed the door behind him and locked it. He crossed his arms and looked at Anya with new suspicion. Anya could read his thoughts, it wouldn’t be Yuri if he wasn’t ready to start questioning a child. Anya tripped over her explanation.

‘I-I WAS LOOKING FOR A PIN I UM- I DROPPED IT AND I SAW- D-DAMIEN WAS KIDNAPPED AND! AND! I’M UH- HERO-‘

Yuri’s stare was making you uncomfortable. You jumped in at Anya’s defense, moving to kneel next to her and deciphering what she was trying to say.

‘Anya, were you trying to play hero by chasing after Damien?’

Anya was sweating bullets as she read what you were trying to do. She nodded enthusiastically at the excuse.

‘I- I wanted to save him! Anya is a good girl!’

You made a noise in your throat of frustration and you grabbed her shoulders.

‘That was stupid!!! You’re just a little girl, Anya! There’s nothing you could do-‘

‘Oh, NOW you’re calling the kettle black!’ Yuri stepped in, moving towards the knocked out guards. He inspected them, they were still alive and had a curious bruise on their necks with a small puncture. He materialized thin rope from a pocket in his uniform and got to tying them like it was nothing.

‘I told you to stay back, and look where you are now!’

You were stunned looking at Yuri move as if he’s done this before. Like this was a routine he knew by heart. Your mind lagged as you tried forming a response.

‘That… That was different! I’m Anya’s caretaker today-‘

‘Yeah? And you failed. You let her get in this mess, and you should’ve let me handle it. Now you’re a liability.’

The harshness in his voice cut you off. You were stunned looking at him, a liability to what exactly? You began spiraling with your thoughts as Yuri finished securing the knots and got up. He had another question for Anya.

‘What happened to these men?’

That, Anya couldn’t answer. She became sheepish. ‘U-Um… Anya walked inside and- It was scary but… they both just fell!’

Yuri racked his brain and looked outside. The men were near a window. By the puncture marks, it looked like someone darted them from the next building. But why? And where were the darts?

Yuri looked at the men, then at the boys. He couldn’t risk more coming in.

‘Alright, we should take the children and go. We’re going to need to escape through the window we came out of before their friends show up.’

You jolted from your delusions, and really looked at Yuri. … you decided your concerns could be saved for another day when you weren’t so close to death. As suspicious as Yuri was being, at least he seemed competent.

You nodded and took one of the boys while Yuri took two. The trip down the corridor went without a hitch, with it being clear. Yuri helped you outside first, passed you one child after the other, and was the last to jump down. So far so good. You all waited for the guard that was watching outside to go in. He took his time, but he did eventually put out his cigarette and go in.

The coast was clear.

You made a run for it, moving one way and another, getting as far from there as possible. Everything was going to be okay! Everyone made it! You were ready to keep running, but Yuri stopped when he found a telephone booth. He told you he’d call for help. He put down the two children and went inside. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but you took the chance to catch your breath. When he came out, he looked better.

‘Someone will be here in a few minutes to help you with the kids.’

‘Great! That means we’re good now, right?’

‘…’ He turned around and grabbed you by the shoulders. He gripped them tightly, too tightly.

‘Yuri, that hurts-‘

‘Listen to me.’ You pause and look up at him. He looked like the same, scary Yuri he was when you first met him. Cold, spiteful. Not your usual Yuri these days.

‘I need to go back to… get something. You need to stay with the kids. Do you hear me?’

Your blood froze. He was going back? To those men with guns? You shook your head.

‘No- No you’re not! Yuri, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing that concerns you now.’ He was being very matter-of-factly with you.

‘Stay with the kids.’

You stayed silent as he moved away from you and began running the way he came. You had a lot to chew on in the minutes you spent sitting with Anya and the others, waiting for someone to pick you all up.

Yuri was involved in something dangerous. The image of him working an office job was long gone. You couldn’t believe that anymore. So what? What was it he was doing? Who was he really?

You didn’t realize it, but Anya was reading your thoughts and pitying you. She laid her head on your shoulder and gave you a one-sided hug. It was enough to make you momentarily pause and give her a pat back.

‘Are you tired?’

‘…. Yeah.’

‘Hm…. Crazy day… you really shouldn’t have run off.’

‘…. I’m really sorry.’

Anya clutched your shirt, face taught with emotion she couldn’t share. How could she tell you that Damien could have died if Bond hadn’t gotten a vision? If she hadn’t ran past her dad in disguise and made him follow her? It was true that she wanted to be a hero but… it was really him who saved the boys.

‘I really wanted to help. I was… scared.’

The sincerity in her words made your conscience twist. She shouldn’t have been in that situation. It was irresponsible. But…

You did the same, by not calling the authorities and jumping in. You sighed and your hand found hers. You held it.

‘I know what it feels like…’

You stayed silent the rest of the time waiting for someone to come. Eventually, one such man wearing a similar outfit to Yuri’s stepped into view. He was with others in different clothing, but all willing to help. They took care of the boys, taking them away, and the man in uniform offered to take you and Anya home. You asked about Yuri.

The man blinked, surprised that you knew his name. After looking at you little closer, his face beamed.

‘Are you Yuri’s wife?’

‘… yes.’

His smile softened. ‘I can assure you your husband will be alright. He’s going to be taken back for questioning, but that’s just standard procedure. He’ll…. Probably be home late tonight.’

‘Oh…’ You didn’t know what you expected, but the casual reassurance the man gave you… only solidified the pit in your stomach. You clutched your chest and looked to the direction Yuri ran off. You didn’t know how you would face him when he came home.

You agreed to the car ride and both you and Anya stumbled back after everything, tired. Anya felt guilty for the sadness you felt. It was to save Damian but… she still felt like a bad kid. She held your hand and promised to herself she’d make it up to you.

Yuri didn't talk to you for days.

He avoided you, woke up earlier, came home later, ate out and would simply stay in his room. He was still mad, and it was driving you crazy with guilt and fear.

You knew you fucked up. What if you couldn’t be friends anymore? What if he didn't want you anymore? What if he divorced you? What if-

The image of cold Yuri in a uniform came back to your head.

.... what if something worse happened to you?

Your fear was palpable. You didn't know how to confront it. You know what you saw; a different side of Yuri. A scary one that was hiding something.

... you missed not knowing. You missed being able to just laugh with him. You hated the anxiety, the quiet, the stress. You didn't like this.

It was making you sick.

So finally, a day before completing a full week of silence, you took action. Fuck your fear. This was worse.

Yuri slowly moved to go back home after another grueling day squeezing something out of nothing. There still weren’t any leads on who these terrorists worked for, why they targeted Damien, or who shot them-

That mystery was particularly driving him insane. It was as if someone had planned to take the boys from the house, but Yuri walked in and made them run.

… did this mean there was yet another threat he had to look out for? Yuri groaned as he made his way into his apartment complex. Stepping through, his mind went from one drag… to another.

You.

… How could he deal with you?

Days had passed and still, he was unable to let go of his anger… and his fear. He felt immense disappointment in himself for his inability to put you down. He had been given a warning for his misconduct; he spinned the story differently by saying that you were already trying to get inside when he found you but still… you were his wife. He was in trouble. And he took the shame; he blamed himself fully for being unable to take you down. He could have handled everything by himself. You didn’t need to get yourself in danger. You didn’t need to…. See him while he worked.

When he went back to their hideout, he kept feeling paranoid that you would pop back in. Find him smashing people’s heads. His fear only made him angrier. You shouldn’t have been here. This was your fault.

It…. It was your fault.

Your fault he had nightmares where you didn’t make it. Nightmares where he you were caught in the crossfire and were shot. Nightmares where you found him in a room full of corpses and you weeped. Nightmares where you ran away from him, screaming and calling him a murderer.

Nightmares where he’d come home and you were gone.

He gripped his key and stood outside your door. His door. Both of yours. He felt slapped again by the fact that you were married to him by obligation. Your relationship was so… fragile. He was sickening himself with worry over the thought of being without you.

When did you get this much power over him? It was so unfair!

He choked on a breath and had to calm himself down. He couldn’t keep waiting outside… he didn’t want Yor to catch him.

Yuri came inside and calmed himself by reminding himself tomorrow would be his day off. He could take it easy… maybe bring a drink to his room. He looked up from taking off his coat and found you waiting for him with brandy and glasses.

You pat the seat next to you. 'Please join me...'

... his heart hammered in his chest.

‘Why won’t you talk to me?’

You decided to start with that question as you poured some liquid into a cup and handed it to him. Yuri took it but didn’t reply.

… This wouldn’t get you anywhere. You drank from your glass and thought about what to say. You closed your eyes, took in a breath, and moved to face him.

‘Yuri… I really want to talk to you again. Please…? Can you tell me what’s wrong?’

Yuri’s face hardened. He also closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Then he chugged his glass in one go. He slammed it back to the table and looked at you with accusatory eyes.

‘You didn’t listen to me!’

‘…. Yeah. You’re right, I didn’t-’

‘You are SO. DUMB!’

‘HEY NOW!’

‘What kind of IDIOT sees multiple men that were shot and thinks ‘OH, I SHOULD FOLLOW THE PEOPLE THAT DID THIS!’ You. You are that idiot.’ He poured another glass and downed it, moving onto a third with shaking hands as he continued.

‘Fucking hunting down tracks like a junior detective. You ran RIGHT INTO DANGER with no plan and no skills in combat. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? If we weren’t so…. God damned BLESSED to have been able to get out of there scott free! Do you know how much of a miracle that was? No! You don’t know! You don’t know anything- You’re seriously so-‘

You stopped him before he could continue his consumption of alcohol. No way were you letting this man go on like this.

‘Yuri, pace yourself! No more!’

‘I know what I can handle. Focus on yourself. It’s the only thing you’re good at anyways.’

Woah. Hold on.

'I wasn’t being selfish! I was scared for Anya! Waiting for the police felt like a waste of time… I just wanted to help-'

‘Well you could have left it to me then! You could have just stayed put and I would’ve handled it.’

You snorted. You couldn’t help it. You suspected from the bit you saw of his ‘work’ that he might be right… but you still weren’t just going to stand around and do nothing…

‘You’re just one man, Yuri! Those were a lot of men with guns! What were you going to do if you got to that room alone? You wouldn’t have been able to drag so many kids out by yourself-‘

You weren’t understanding! Yuri grabbed your arms.

'I COULD HAVE FIGURED IT OUT! I can take care of myself just fine, Y/N, I’ve been through so much worse! But you can’t!!!' Your eyes widened at the declaration. You wanted to ask more but…

His face-

He looked on the verge of tears. He moved his head away from you and squeezed his eyes.

'I....' Yuri shook... and he slowly squeezed your arms a few times to center himself before continuing.

'I've taken defense classes. My job is... dangerous. I'm important.'

He couldn't believe what he was spilling. He didn't want to spell it out to you but, damn it. Damn it! You and your stupid curiosity. He squeezed his eyes and let go of one of your arms to wipe at them.

'You're weak. You could've gotten hurt. Please... be more conscious of that. Listen to me when I tell you to stop.’

You ached as you watched Yuri like this. He cared about you... and this scared him. That much was evident. No matter his secrets, his personality change, his questionable job...

This was the Yuri you knew. The one you... could depend on. The one you… crushed on. You were quick to back down and relent to him.

'... fine. You’re… right, I…. didn’t know. I’m sorry... I’m sorry for jumping in blind on something as serious as that. I won’t.... do it again.'

Your promise felt hollow, but it was what Yuri wanted. What he needed to hear. You felt your heart squeeze as his grip on you relaxed. He released the breath he was holding, turned around, and took back his glass.

'Alright...'

The mood was becoming… lighter. Now that you talked it out, now that you both shared your grievances…

What else was there to do other than drink?

You were tipsy. Yuri was drunk. The conversation had stayed slightly… stiff as you both sipped on your drinks, you had conversed about stuff you missed in the week of silence, and it was only… bringing you guys down again.

There was that awkward quiet again.

You decided what you needed was a change in location. This experience would be better in your bed. You picked up the rest of the bottle and made the trek to your room. Yuri was beside himself, tripping as he followed you. You placed your glass and bottle on your nightstand and laid down on your bed, making an exaggerated noise of comfiness. Everything felt better when you were tipsy.

In your hazy mind, you began reminiscing about your siblings, Anya and her friends. How cute they were, becoming friends and looking out for each other. A curious, silly question came to mind.

‘… do you think we would’ve been friends in grade school?’

It caught Yuri off guard. He stumbled into bed to lie next to you, settling on his back as he mulled it over. He wasn’t sure if it would have happened. He was… never the most open-minded kid and… he might have been one to shun you back then. But he wasn’t like that anymore. And- he wanted to believe in good things right now…

‘…. Possibly. You needed friends. Kid-version-of-me might as well have stepped up...’

You laughed at the mental image of a young Yuri brashly declaring you as his friend. It was cute… and it made you want to ask more.

‘You know about my school years… but what about you?’ You decided to turn the conversation around. Yor always told stories about Yuri’s academic successes but… never spoke about any other school passions. Or about any friends of his.

‘How was school for you? Too busy with your nose buried in a book?’

You teased him and expected a shove or something back… but Yuri didn’t move from his spot. You looked over and found him staring at the ceiling. He looked… serious.

‘Yeah. I mean. It was that or…’ Yuri narrowed his eyes and looked away. He took in a breath.

‘I guess you can say I can sympathize with your crappy school situation.’

Yuri confesses to a lot of his childhood hardships. Things he hadn’t even told his sister about. Like minor bullying he dealt with; being a bookworm and a bit of a teacher’s pet, he was an easy target for students annoyed at him. Students with better families and financial situations. He tried ignoring them at first, but it didn’t work. They sought him out. So eventually, he began lashing out, and his classmates… became fearful of him. He was finally given the peace he wanted… by becoming ostracized and avoided. At least, up until he got into a good high school and started over.

Yuri tried turning the story around. He learned how to make friends. He surrounded himself with peers that were as engaging as him. He’s successful now. He’s grown.

Still… it was unexpected to feel you hug him.

‘H-Huh-‘

‘I’m so sorry you went through that.’

In Yuri’s bewilderment, you moved to get more comfortable, his face to your chest, your arms more firmly planted and your chin on his head.

‘You deserved better. You were a good kid… to be driven to that point… kids can be such fucking dicks.’

Yuri blinked. His brain finally caught up. You were hugging him. It was comfortable. He was hugged and he was comforted, and he liked it. His hands shakily grasped at your arms and he closed his eyes.

‘Y-Yeah but- that’s in the past! It doesn’t even matter anymore!’

‘Hm… I think it does. I think it shaped you into being as cautious as you are now…’ Your tongue was loose from the alcohol, you shared too much. And you were too daring with your affection. You moved him to look into his eyes, your hands firmly on his face.

‘But… you’re right. You’re successful. You rose above those little shits and you’re all the better for it.’ You smiled, wide and smug and beautiful. His breath caught in his throat as you moved his hair aside.

‘I’m so proud of you Yuri. You’re so strong.’

Yuri had nowhere to hide anymore. He was trapped, unable to look away from you, and stunned by the rush of emotion that overwhelmed him. He tried deflecting it, he couldn’t accept your praise for once-

‘T-That’s… all thanks to Yor, though! Yor kept me going! Yor provided for the family! T-That’s why she deserves all the credit-‘

You shook your head and got up. ‘Nonono, shhh, Yuri.’ You’re leaning over him now, almost on top of him, penetrating him with your eyes. ‘I know. I understand and I admire her too for all she’s done. But your accomplishments are also your own. You defended yourself. You studied. You learned.’

Your head leans down unwillingly, like you were letting gravity win, until it touches his and you’re sharing breaths. You’re smiling again.

‘What happened to cocky Yuri? Accept it. You’re amazing, Yuri. No one in the world is like you.’

Yuri’s eyebrows knit together, and his heart exploded. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, he can’t stand looking at you any longer. He moves quickly, sweeping you into an embrace now, making you the smaller spoon. You can hear his thunderous heart through his shirt, but you’re too busy feeling giddy from his cute reaction. You giggle as he tried changing the subject.

The rest of the night is spent still being touchy, hanging on to each other's clothing or bodies as you laugh and cry and laugh again. Sometimes you both sit up to chug more booze, but you always melted back into each other’s arms.

Finally, the booze is gone and you’re both getting tired. But, getting off your high, you decide you have one last confession to make.

'I know I've told you that love doesn't matter for me…'

Yuri’s interest is immediately piqued. He doesn’t want to show it, but he is all ears and he can’t help looking at you, inching closer as you continue.

'.... it does. I’m... no different than anyone else. Of course I want to fall in love. Of course I want... to feel good. But here... with my life.' You give a bitter laugh; your tears had already left you.

'I knew I had to take what I can get. And… yeah, it’s better than being married to a creep... to settle for something loveless.' You force a smile.

'Yeah… it’s not all bad, I guess. This, being with you, is way better. Honestly! Better than I could’ve hoped for. I am so grateful for you, Yuri. You’re such a joy to have around… Yor has become my good friend… but I feel… somehow, a lot closer to you.'

Yuri's heart began palpitating, anticipating what comes next. Was this finally it? You love him. Just say it. Everything he had been wanting to hear, the thing he had been hoping for….

His heart stops when an extra tear manages to escape your dry eye.

'... still. I kinda wish I could’ve had a romance at some point. Would've been nice to hear that someone loves me... at least once.'

.... there is a silence in the room. Yuri looked at your defeated form. The unexpected occurs.

'I love you.'

Earnest. His words left him without a thought. He couldn’t be bothered to think it through better, it’s what he felt. What he’s been holding back, fighting, denying. And saying it... made him feel so much better. He didn’t smile, but he hoped he looked serious. He hoped he could convey that he meant it.

He said it again, making sure your eyes were on his.

‘I love you.’

... you were stunned for words. Yuri loved you. The possibility of your crush coming true fluttered in your chest. He loved you. He told you he loved you. Yuri…. Drunk Yuri… Yuri who puts his sister over everyone…. Yuri who said he’d never be in a real relationship…

Reason won over a funny fantasy. He loved you like a friend. That had to be it.

‘Yeah… he's drunk and overemotional...’ you remind yourself. And you laugh.

‘But… eh. What the hell. I'm drunk too...'

You decided you could use this a bit. To let go of your crush. To let something hide in plain sight. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath.

'I love you too.'

You're smiling. You're beautiful. His heart is in his throat. Yuri can’t speak, he breathes in shakily. He is so happy. And lost. And a bit.... too unwell. The strong emotions and the alcohol don’t mix well. The man is in the restroom for a while, vomiting his feelings into the toilet as you laugh and begin to pass out without a care. This was the culmination of the night… you were both feeling completely wiped.

By the times he's done, he’s feeling better, and after brushing his teeth and a change of clothes, he goes into your bedroom, more sober now but still in a daze... He sees you asleep and ponders going back to his room.

… He lays beside you instead. He can’t help stare at you and wonder about tomorrow. All the things that are going to change now that you’re together. Really. Truthfully. Officially.

You were married… and you loved each other.

He's... excited. He snuggles up to you and closes his eyes, enjoying your breath on his. He wants to do this every night. He wants to keep you forever. Yeah…

He’s excited.

He’s in love.

644 notes · View notes

intheticklecloset · 2 years

Text

Tickling on Ice (Yuri on Ice)

Summary: After practicing his latest routine, Yuri finds himself out of breath for several different reasons.

A/N: HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY, @dokidoki-muffin!! Since you left your wish pretty open-ended, I decided to take inspiration from this fabulous art and write a fic for it! You did tell us we were free to speculate, after all! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

And yes I'm aware this title is incredibly lame but it made me laugh and I couldn't be bothered to come up with something better so lame it shall stay lol

Word Count: 1,145

~~~

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air.

The performance was over; he’d held his final pose the required amount of time. He was done, and that meant he could finally breathe. This routine was by far the hardest he’d ever performed to date. It was spectacular, but it took a lot out of him.

He propped himself up on his elbows, the cold of the ice burning his skin. From across the rink, another figure glided over to join him.

For a moment Yuri forgot how out of breath he was. If anything, seeing Otabek Altin only took his breath away again. He could hardly believe he’d just done what he’d done – having his friend help him with his routine by first catching the pink jacket he discarded early on and then by ripping his glove off his hand with his teeth.

Yuri tried not to blush as he got to his feet.

“Well done,” Otabek congratulated, nodding his approval. “That was the smoothest practice yet.”

“I still have some things to work on,” Yuri replied, eyes darting to the fingerless gloves the taller man offered him. He took them and stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Yes, but you have time for that.” Otabek scanned him briefly. “Not too cold?”

“Please,” the Russian scoffed, though he was pretty certain he was incapable of feeling anything other than an intense warmth when standing so close to his friend. Yes, just a friend. “If a little ice is enough to make me shiver then I’m clearly in the wrong profession.”

The Kazakhstani smirked. “Hmm. I have to admit, I’m impressed with how bold this routine is, even for you.”

“Bold? You think this is…” Yuri’s comeback trailed off when Otabek got right up into his personal space. He forgot what words even were for a moment. “…bold?”

“Yes.”

“Y-You…you don’t have to bite the glove off if you don’t want to—”

“I do.” Otabek leaned down to touch their foreheads together, a clear invitation, a clear question. “That blush looks good on you, by the way.”

“Wha?” Yuri yelped when his feet were suddenly not holding him up anymore, his skates sliding across the ice when Otabek swept his own beneath them. The blonde frantically reached up to grab him for stability, and the next thing he knew he was being suspended in the air, kept aloft only by the darker man’s hands on his hips and Yuri’s fists clenched in his black leather jacket. “What – what are you doing?!”

“I would like to kiss you, Yuri,” Otabek murmured. “Please tell me I can.”

Yuri shivered, eyes wide, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Suddenly, having the Kazakhstani bite his glove off his hand no longer seemed like the boldest move they’d made recently. His kiss was gentle but passionate, making Yuri see stars behind his eyes, and he didn’t protest in the slightest when he realized he was being pushed back down onto the ice, the cold against his bare back contrasting sharply with the warmth of the man above him.

Okay, so maybe he was more than just a friend. And maybe Yuri was completely fine with that.

Hands began to wander, Otabek’s fingers brushing gently over skin as he slipped under his shirt, and Yuri shivered again, inhaling sharply, tensing up.

Otabek broke their connection and met his eyes, a playful sparkle in them that made the blonde nervous. “Oh?”

“No,” Yuri said immediately, but it was useless. Fingernails scraped gently against his sides, making him squirm. “No, don’t do that!”

“Are you ticklish?”

“I’m – no! Nonono! I mean—” He tried again. “Please don’t, I’m…I’m really t-tihiheahahahahaha! Wahahahahait!”

Otabek chuckled, scribbling all over his lower torso, and Yuri squeaked and squirmed and tried to push him away, but it was all for naught. The older man was also much, much stronger, and the Russian felt a chill shoot through him from more than just the ice when he realized how stuck he was like this.

“Plehehease, I’m really tihihihihicklish! Dohohohohohon’t! Otahahahahahaha!”

In a sudden flurry of movement, Otabek pushed Yuri’s hands above his head, pinning one with his left arm and maneuvering the other into his left hand, freeing up his right to wiggle under the smaller man’s shirt and tickle freely. Yuri jerked beneath him, still stubbornly holding back his laughter despite how red he was getting from the effort.

The Kazakhstani carefully lifted his leg to half-straddle the blonde, pinning his hips in place, and that was when the dam finally broke.

“Plehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahaha nohohohohohohoooo! Otahahahahahaha!” Yuri giggled helplessly, blushing furiously under the other man’s kind, intense gaze. “Dohohohohon’t! Lehehehehet me up! Dohohohohon’t tickle – EEEK!! Nononono not thehehehere, not there!”

“No?” Otabek teased, dragging his fingers up and down the grooves of his ribcage like he was playing a xylophone. “Not your ribs?”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Yuri pleaded as he tossed his head back and burst into shrieking laughter, trying desperately to move any part of his body, bring his arm down, anything. None of it did any good, though, and that only made it tickle worse. “NAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!! PLEASE, BEHEHEHEHEHEKA!!”

For a moment the darker man slowed to a stop, allowing Yuri to gasp for breath a second time that day, and their eyes met for a long, quiet, intimate moment.

“Beka?” Otabek murmured.

Yuri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to call him that; in his ticklish haze he hadn’t been thinking clearly and it just slipped out. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Say it again.”

“W-What?”

Otabek began tracing his ribs with his fingers. “Call me that again.”

“Eeep! Okahahay, okay! Beheheheheka!” Yuri squealed, giggles spilling out of him uncontrollably at the gentle touch.

“I like that,” the Kazakhstani said in a near whisper, leaning down to kiss him again, still tickling softly.

Yuri whined, still snickering at the light, teasing touches along his body. Between the playful tickling and the way Otabek was looming over him and pinning him down, the blonde was suddenly beginning to feel all kinds of different ways about the turn this skating practice had taken.

“All right,” Otabek said after another minute, slowing his teasing fingers to a stop and beginning to sit up, releasing Yuri’s arms as he did so. “You’re going to freeze if you keep lying here—”

“Wait,” Yuri protested breathlessly, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep him from moving away, tugging him back down on top of him. He swallowed nervously, blushing and averting his eyes as he muttered, “You can keep going.”

“Oh yeah?” Otabek chuckled again, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Yuri, one hand moving back down to scratch at his belly and sides. Yuri broke into another round of giggles, and the taller man crushed their lips together once more.

Yuri Plisetsky was gasping for air again before he knew it.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #yuri on ice #yoi #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #otayuri #playful #teasing #a little steamy #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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the-lincyclopedia · 6 months

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Winter holiday fics by lincyclopedia

Thanks for the tags, @cricketnationrise and @doggernaut! When you tagged me, I wasn't sure if I had any winter holiday fics. I have 12, across four fandoms. In my defense, I have over 200 fics total, so I lose track of what I've written sometimes. (Also, looking back through my AO3 account, it's like, man, I used to write. Unfortunately I've been too depressed to do much of that for a while now.) Anyway. Here's what I've got, organized by fandom:

Check Please

Deck the Halls with Balls of Holly

Ransom misunderstood the lyrics to "Deck the Halls," and he and Holster wind up making some interesting Christmas decorations for the Haus.

This is a super short one-shot featuring platonic Ransom & Holster friendship from Bitty's POV. (It's part of my series of fics based on misheard song lyrics.) The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Palentine's Day Karaoke

This fic is inspired by @softfloralbro's story "Shitty Knight's Palentine's Day Spectacular" and is basically a karaoke playlist wrapped in narration. The basic idea is that SMH has a karaoke party on Valentine's Day, and everyone serenades their friends. Set in February of Year 2.

This fic is full of SMH friendship, music, and not much else. The relevant holiday is Valentine's Day.

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold It Can Be

In a world where the graduation kiss never happened, it's winter break of Bitty's senior year, and Bitty and Jack are both out and single. The plan is for Bitty to spend New Year's Eve with Jack at Jack's condo, but that plan goes awry when Bitty and Jack return from the airport to find a homophobic slur painted on Jack's parking space. TW for homophobia.

Basically, this is canon-divergent Zimbits getting together. The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

too long i've been afraid (of losing love i guess i've lost)

Dex gets disowned after coming out as gay. SMH is there for him.

Basically, angst, hurt/comfort, and platonic Frogs content, plus some platonic Dex & Bitty. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Five Times Lukas Was Homesick Plus One Time He Didn’t Have to Be

It can be hard to go to school in another country where everyone speaks a different language and no one celebrates your holidays. Luckily, Lukas has friends to help when he’s homesick.

Okay, this is a 5+1 and only one of the scenes is actually about a winter holiday, but I like that scene, so I'm including this fic on the list. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

When Lucia Day Dawns

For Lukas's senior project as a music major, he has to plan/lead a public music performance. He decides to form a choir to sing Swedish Lucia/Advent/Christmas songs on St. Lucia Day (December 13). This is the Friday before finals and everything is stressful—until the concert starts and suddenly it’s perfect.

This is another Lukas-centric fic about being Swedish. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

Carry On

Right Now

A one-shot set during Christmas break of Simon and Agatha's fifth year at Watford. Even though they're not ultimately meant to be, they made sense as a couple once.

This is very jossed by Any Way the Wind Blows, but I still kind of like it. It's pre-canon Simon/Agatha. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Stranded

After leaving Baz's house and dropping Penny off in London, Simon and Agatha get stranded in a ditch in the middle of a snowstorm. Ex awkwardness ensues.

Unlike "Right Now," this fic features Simon and Agatha as exes. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Sounds Like a Date

Baz is a barista stuck working on Christmas Eve. Simon is a handsome customer.

This is a coffee shop AU featuring a Snowbaz meet-cute. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Yuri on Ice

Ice Quality

One of Yuuri's college friends invites him to spend Christmas with her family, and Celestino approves as long as Yuuri promises to skate while he's there. Trouble is, the town's indoor rink is closed for renovations. A one-shot set during Yuuri's time in college in Detroit.

This is a pre-canon platonic Yuri & OFC fic. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Happy New Year, Otabek!

Yuri and Otabek have been best friends for four years, and Yuri's had a crush on Otabek for a while, but he never expected Otabek to like him back. Until, that is, Otabek gets drunk at the Grand Prix Final banquet and says some things Yuri doesn't expect. It's going to be a very interesting New Year's celebration in Almaty . . .

This is a post-canon Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek, and it's the only multi-chapter fic on this list (though it's still pretty short). The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

Sherlock

Over the Table and through the Giggles

John has insisted on hosting a Christmas party. Again. Everyone but Sherlock is drinking, and John is telling stories about Sherlock, and suddenly Sherlock decides to kiss John. Plotless fluff.

This is a canon-divergent Johnlock getting-together scene based more heavily than you might guess on my sober-but-sleep-deprived friends and me being ridiculous in high school. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

I'm guessing a lot of people have been tagged, especially from the Check Please fandom, but I'm going to try to pull in some Queen's Thief folks. I tag @worldsentwined, @newtsoftheworldunite, @hoeratius, @eponymiad, and anyone else who wants to play!

#a lin original #fanfiction #tag game #holidays #check please #omgcp #omgcheckplease #carry on #simon snow #yuri on ice #bbc sherlock #sherlock #christmas #new year's eve #st. lucia day #valentine's day #online friends

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chubsonthemoon · 1 year

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Binderary 2023 Wrap-Up!

Binderary 2023 is over, and I come bearing some stats, thoughts, and a compiled list of my QOTD answers! :3

Stats:

Books planned: 7

Books completed: 7/7 (woohoo!)

Fandoms: 3 (Yuri on Ice, Harry Potter, and The Sandman)

Total word count: 340,654

List of books (from left to right):

Maybe sprout wings by @moorishflower

Flower King by @landwriter

The Politeness of Princes by @aboxthecolourofheartache

Uncertain Results (also by Box!)

I'm caught inside every open eye (also also by Box :3)

Not pictured (on account of them being given away as gifts!):

My Immortal by Tara Gilesbie (aka xxxbloodyrists666xxx) (community typeset by @renegadepublishing)

Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by @kazliin (typesetting by @ziezie13 <3)

QOTD answers under the cut (and these are copied directly from our DW post, just with added tumblr @'s!)

1. What does Renegade mean to you?

Renegade has, in all honesty, probably changed the course of my life! That's not hyperbole--it's had such a huge influence on my hobbies, my friendships, my academic trajectory, even my career. I was still in undergrad when I found ASH's post on fanbinding, and I was very lost as to what the next steps would be. And like so many others experienced, the pandemic only made things even murkier and more isolating. Then I found ASH's manifesto in June 2020, worked up the courage to join the Discord in July 2020, and found a community of like-minded weirdos who were just as passionate (if not even more so!) about their favorite stories, and a craft that I fall a little bit more in love with every day (well, most days. fuckin printers man XD). I wrote my honors thesis thanks to Renegade; I've made lifelong friends thanks to Renegade; I have my current job, in a field I love, thanks to Renegade. (My first Rocky Horror Picture show at Havencon 2022? All thanks to Renegade :D) This really feels like my forever fandom home-- even when I jump around from fandom to fandom, there's always a wonderful and supportive community to fall back on. In short, I really love it here, I'm so pleased with what we've done so far, and I can't wait to see where we go! ❤️

2. Favorite Fic

As everyone else who answered this, this question is IMPOSSIBLE. However, if you put a gun to my head and told me to answer right now, I'd have to say Tell Me About the Big Bang (my binding of it here!) It's one of the fics that has touched me most deeply and which has probably had the greatest influence on my writing. It was one of the first fics I'd ever bound, and I really wanted to rebind it to see how far I've come!

3. One thing you'd like to learn more about

GOD SO MANY THINGS. Backing! Headband techniques. Chisel trimming. Edge gilding. Tiny books. More advanced Cricut techniques. More cohesive and professional-looking graphic design. This hobby is really a dozen hobbies in a trench coat, and there's so much to explore.

4. Paper!

For my textblocks, I use 20 lb. cream Hammermill paper! I order it in 11"x 17" and get it cut in half for short grain, like a lot of other folks at Renegade. Recently I've started experimenting with quarto-sized Legal (8.5"x 14")and fell in love. I also want to try a bunch of the other paper that folks have suggested (looking at @robins-egg-bindery Mohawk Via o.o). For my endpapers, I usually use scrapbook paper from those scrapbook paper packs you can get at Michaels and Joann's (and when they're on sale...WOOF)

5. Cloth!

DUO BOOKCLOTH MY BELOVED. God I wish I'd gotten in on the Renegade group order - but ah well. Big fan of making my own though! There are just so many options to choose from, so it really expands what you can do (again: a dozen hobbies and crafts in a trench coat)

6. The Glue War

LOVE me some PVA! I know that it gives you less time to do things, but I get impatient XD. Plus it's cheap and easy to find and ready to use right out of the bottle, which is great. I've tried my hand at making starch paste + PVA with very mixed (ha!) results, although I had a wonderful time with some methyl cell that @simply-sithel gifted me at Havencon last year <3 So mayhaps will have to buy more of that for a future project!

I also love my Cricut Explore 2, Charlotte! She holds up very well, although I think she's due for a blade refill soon. I've just been setting my pressure higher and higher LOL

7. Machines

Love my Epson ecotank! I recently bought it--for the first two years I was going to my local print shop because the quality was great and I had a discount card. Unfortunately the discount card eventually expired, so I decided to bite the bullet and get my own printer. I really love it! I didn't want to have to deal with laser and printing in color can get pricey--the cartridges are just so goddamn expensive, although I do think laser prints in higher quality. Mayhaps a future purchase, because I'd really like to experiment with foiling!

8. Favorite binding technique

Ooh this one is interesting! I know which part of the process I enjoy the most, which is sewing! Kettle stitch my beloved. ALTHOUGH I am a sucker for the French link too--it's just so pretty! And we just had a wonderful workshop put on last week by @queercore-curriculum on their...embroidered binding/long-stitch binding (??? I don't know if there's an official name for it yet), which I LOVE. Glueless bindings are SO cool and I would love to experiment more with them.

9. Your best tip/trick

Ooh! Hmmm...I'd say: never bind while you're super tired/hungry LOL. I've made many a preventable mistake very late at night because I wanted to get something cased in or glued before bed when I probably should've waited till morning XD That being said, on the flip side I think you should never be afraid to experiment! Go hog wild!!! Use those glitter pens!! Try out that fancy silk for your endbands!! Try that new binding style! And if you fuck up, remember that's okay too! These are handmade objects and those mistakes are proud proof of that, and of your journey as a fanbinder. Stick 'em in the channel on the Discord, laugh and (maybe cry a little XD) about it, and then keep going. tldr; ya live and learn!

10. Favorite Detail

Ooh, this one's hard! I love leaving little Easter eggs in my designs. I'd say my favorite is putting my maker's mark on things! My imprint is Moonham Press (a fun mix of my usernames, chubsthehamster and chubsonthemoon), and the logo includes a little crescent moon. I'd actually been binding for about two years when I finally made the imprint--I used to think that it was...idk, kind of weird to put myself in the book? Like I was taking away from the story inside it. But then I got to thinking--well, hey, I'm the one who made this book, right? If nothing else, putting my mark on it tells someone who may pick it up one day that I was connected to this story. Some conversations with some folks at Renegade during Havencon 2022 also helped me embrace this. So these days I put my imprint logo in the typesetting, and I also put it on the cover somewhere! My favorite spots are either on the spine, between the title and author name, or on the back cover, in the bottom left corner :D

11. Spines

Spines are the bane of my existence. Haha, jk. They're mostly just tedious, since they're one of the only parts of the process that still require precise measurement (I've cut templates for everything else by now, and I use my guillotine to cut boards, so that goes super fast). For my thicker books I use Bristol board; I actually still use the same sheets I bought in 2020 when I first started binding--I didn't know how much I would really need so I think I ordered four massive sheets which will probably last me for ten years LOL. For my thinner books, I use Davy board, which is a pain to cut but gives the book a really nice board feel. And for my paperbacks, the spine is just the cover, which I make out of kraft paper for the backing + the decorative paper (usually scrapbook paper or something I've designed and printed)

12. Mistakes/Fails

Ooh BOY are there many. My most recent was my experiment with making a hardback quarto letter. I made the hinge waaaaay too small so when I tested the case the textblock was sticking out of it LOL. But I've been pretty lucky--this is only the second case I've had to remake in my time as fanbinder *KNOCKS ON WOOD*, but my printer fuck-ups when I was trying to figure out how to print on legal sized paper (since my printer doesn't duplex) probably make up for the luck I've had in the case department XD. Casing in, though--I think I've had maaaaaybe...two or three case-ins where I was completely happy with the results. A large part of this is because my guillotine doesn't cut completely straight, so my squares are never even LOL. But hey, I'm not getting paid for this, and I'm having fun, so eh.

13. Process

Ooh, interesting! My process has remained largely unchanged--I think the only thing that has really changed is now the frequency at which I print. I used to print at a print shop, so I'd make typesets in large batches--usually two to four books, sometimes more (I think the most I've done at a time is five?), and I'd make a day out of it. Now that I have my printer at home though, I can do things in smaller batches! I can also test print things, so I've been able to get a lot more experimental with my books sizes and my covers. Everything else has remained largely the same--the first book I did I typeset in MS Word, but everything after that I've all done in Affinity Publisher. I typeset > print > bind > take pictures! I really like how different each step is (like I said, twelve different hobbies in a trench coat), so there's always something different to do if I get bored. My favorite parts are probably designing covers and sewing the signatures!

14. Storage solutions

OUGH. I have one of those rollaway drawer thingies for all my tools, a dozen scrapbook paper containers, several large baskets for my vinyl and cloth, a hanging stand for my larger sheets of decorative paper, a standing desk which holds my Cricut and printer (a few of the aforementioned vinyl baskets are under this desk too), another rollaway basket thingy that holds my printing paper and my press (also under the standing desk), another desk which holds both my two guillotines and cutting mats (and under that desk are all my scrapbook paper containers and Cricut mats), and a final third desk where I keep all my sewing stuff and where I do my typesetting and other sitting-down parts of the process. And of course my shelves for all my books! This doesn't really give a sense of where everything is, but it's actually fairly organized, and for the most part I know where everything is (except for my FUCKING bone folder god that thing is always ending up in places I do not remember putting it XD)

15. Your Workspace

Ah, see my answer to 14! I'll probably upload a photo here later XD

16. Dust jackets and covers

Oooh, I've never made a dust jacket before--I don't think my printer could handle the wonky paper size that it requires, but they look really cool and I'd maybe be up for making one someday! And covers! Both my greatest love and my greatest enemy. They're super fun to design, but this is one part of the process that always feels like an uphill battle for me! There are so many skilled and talented folks in Renegade with GORGEOUS covers, and it's always a mix of being incredibly inspired and getting some design envy--but either way it's very motivating to keep me out of my comfort zone and to always keep trying new things. I use decorative paper and scrapbook paper mostly for the base material (although I've begun experimenting with designing things digitally and printing them out on Epson matte presentation paper), and then the rest is fuck it, we ball. I usually design the cover last, so I have an entire typeset and title page already when I begin, which makes things a little easier since I have an already established aesthetic to work with. My font selection is kind of determined by how small the text for the title/author name is, since my Cricut isn't great at cutting super small sizes (Times New Roman, funnily enough, is one of the only fonts that it can do at smaller sizes LOL so a lot of the text on my covers/spines are in TNR). I'm excited to keep improving and experimenting in this area!

17. Published inspiration

Ooh!! This one's fun--when I first began making my Master pages in Affinity publisher, I literally grabbed the first few books I saw on my shelf and said 'alright, this looks good' and haven't looked back since LOL. Those books were Vintage's editions of Toni Morrison's novels, Picador's Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, Vintage's edition of Willa Cather's The Song of the Lark, Fall River's omnibus editions of Shakespeare and Sherlock Holmes's works, Penguin Classic's Deluxe edition of Jane Austen's novels, and a few others that I can't remember. I looked at all these books, found what they had in common (for example, a simple title page before the decorative title page, the use of a single graphic or design at the beginning of each chapter, etc.) and went with that! I don't usually take inspiration from specific books, EXCEPT for a project I'm currently working on which I'm super excited about :3 More TK here eheh (ADDITION 3/7: I was talking about Maybe sprout wings here LOL)

18. Illustrations

FANART MY BELOVED. I LOVE including fanart in my books, because it's such a lovely demonstration of the communal nature of these stories and it's so fun getting to collect all the pieces. For free use graphics my favorite sites are Adobe Stock images and Heritage Library. Heritage in particular has a beautiful selection of free vintage graphics packs that I've used for years now. And very occasionally, wingdings fonts will have something I really like XD

19. Favorite tool

Despite my gripes earlier about always misplacing it, I ADORE my bone folder. It's a funky lil dude and it makes all my edges nice and crisp! I can't wait for the retreat bone folder fufu :3 Also a very big fan of my guillotine, which despite its flaws makes my life a hell of a lot easier in the long run, as well as my presses, which were handmade by my dad and do their jobs very well (squiiiiiiish)

20. Favorite part of the binding process

Oooh, this one's fun! I really like the actual construction of the book--sewing sigs is always relaxing and has been one of my fave parts since the very beginning. Recently I've started to really enjoy designing covers, especially if there are a lot of physical elements (like layering scrapbook paper or playing around with Mod Podge).

I had the absolute privilege to hold @clovenhoofbindery's copy of Away Childish Things at Havencon last year. Literally every book Space makes I fall in love with, and her designs are a HUGE inspiration for me. Everything from the typesetting to cover design to physical construction--I lose my marbles every time.

21. Inspo: The binder that inspired you!

Ohhh this one's so hard! Literally every time I check the #show-off channel in the Discord I'm struck by so many beautiful books. I'm going to cheat and name a few people here, but this list is by no means comprehensive and doesn't even begin to cover everyone I could name.

Everything @pleasantboatpress binds is just so beautiful. Their color choices are always inspired and their headbands make me want to cry! Their bind of Unconditional in particular had me foaming at the mouth.

The quality of everything @zhalfirin-binds makes, likewise, always blows me away. Her books are so polished and professional, and her photos make me feel like I'm in a museum when I'm trawling her blog for inspo!

@simply-sithel's tiny books are literally the coolest things ever! I'm still working my way through the Binderary vids and I can't wait to get to hers. Six plays with form in mind-bending and truly innovative ways, and her blog is wonderland of tiny and fantastical book creatures.

@teleportbooks's binds are the definition of classy and refined. They're so good at designing their books according to the contents of the fic--their binding of Thirty-Three Lashes in particular is just the best design centered around fic content and title I've seen. Their designs always make me melt a little when I see them!

@no-name-publishing's endbands are to DIE for. Like fr I am in awe every time!!! And Kam's cover + title page designs are a huge source of inspo for me--forever in love with this bind of theirs, with the beautiful painted cover + matching endpapers T_T

And of course!!! I (and everyone else) wouldn't be here without our beloved leader, @armoredsuperheavy. He's the first binder that ever inspired me, and he continues to do so today!

22. Inspo: The fic that inspired you!

My original answer was also my answer for 27 ("First bind"), but I'm gonna say something a little different here! I usually know pretty quickly whether I'm interested in binding something, but very rarely has a fic gotten me hook, line, and sinker the way @that-banhus's King of Infinite Space did. Like, from the first line I was like "oh god I need to hold this one." And eventually I did! :3

23. Author spotlight: Someone you've bound

AHHHHHH this one is so hard too! I've bound a good number of authors over the years, many of whom are my dear friends, and to spotlight only a single one would be impossible. So I'm just going to poke @dodici12, whose killugon fic See You Upside Down is one of the best killugon reunion fics ever in my very humble hamster opinion. Hiiiii Tessa ilysm <333

24. Author spotlight: Someone you'd like to bind

OOOOOH. Many, many fics are in my queue. I'll keep them to myself for now, since I prefer to ask for author permission via DM, but atm I have my eye on a few Good Omens authors whose work I adore!

25. Favorite bind by you!

THIS ONE IS SO HARD AJLSKDJF. I love all my babies so much and I'm proud of what I was able to accomplish and what I learned from each of them. However, if you put a gun to my head and asked me to choose right now, I'd have to go with my most recent bind of Maybe sprout wings by @moorishflower. I'm really pleased with both its construction and particularly the curation of its contents, which includes the work of nearly a dozen people. It was my attempt at capturing the communal nature of fanfiction's creation and dispersal, and it was also my Big Project this Binderary. I'm ridiculously fond and proud of it!

26. Favorite bind by someone else!

THIS ONE IS SO HARD TOO HELP. Okay this is only one of my many many favorites, but dragging Space back out here again to say that her bind of Away Childish Things permanently altered my brain chemistry. Like, the cutout!!! The patronuses!!!! The title page cutout???? THE KEY??? Again, I held this book in my hands IN PERSON last year and I'm still not over it. The quality of the work is absolutely bonkers crazy incredible and I think about it Often.

27. First bind

The very first fic I ever bound was On Stranger Tides by @theroyalsavage. It's still one of my favorite fics ever today--it has the perfect blend of action/adventure, romance, humor, and fantasy. It gives me the good ol' "roaming the high seas with found family and magic and pirates" ache. It holds a very special place in my heart!

FINAL THOUGHTS

28. Latest bind

See 22! But for funsises, I'm also ridiculously fond of the binding before that, of @aboxthecolourofheartache's fic The Politeness of Princes, because I got to do lots of fun arts and crafty things with the cover!

This was my first year doing Binderary, and I had such a blast! It's so crazy seeing how far Renegade has come, from a little Discord for book shop chatting (ASH mentioned in one of the talks how it was just called, like, "Bookbinding Discord" at the beginning LOL) to now. We're well on our way to a proper organizational structure, with several yearly events, in-person meetups, and thousands of members all over the world. And we have so much more planned! It feels truly special, and I'm so grateful to everyone who makes this possible.

Okay!! That's all from me for today, folks. If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! <3

#binderary2023 #fanbinding #bookbinding #ficbinding

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rikeijo · 2 months

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Today's translation #600

Go Yuri go!!!, official fanbook, Chief episode director, Shishido Jun's interview

Part 3.

-- During the production period, when was the most difficult time?

Shishido: I think it was when the competitions started around episode 5-6. The amount of work to do and the schedule didn't match at all, so Abiko-san and Tatenaka-san weren't able to do all the work by themselves, and we had 3DGC staff join in to help them. But from episodes 5-6 onward, we repeated the cycle of groping around for solutions, failing and then using that experience when working on the next episode and gradually, we learned the 'know how'. Normally, as anime production approaches the final episode, staff at the studio has less and less energy. In case of Yuri!!! on ICE, however, it was the middle part that was the hardest for us, which was quite a rare occurrence. After that, our approach shifted to "we have managed to get through that, so now we will be fine, no matter what comes our way next!"

-- Please, tell us how did you honestly feel after the final episode.

Shishido: It was 'Somehow, I managed to survive this'... To be honest, during production, I couldn't do anything else but work, I had to finish the work that I had before my eyes, and I couldn't pause. So I didn't really understand how great the response was. But now, looking back, it was amazing. At any rate, we've got a lot of letters and gifts from fans. I've never experience something like that before, so it made me think that I have no other choice but to give my best. It was really thanks to the support of you all that we managed to skate this program until the end. If I have the chance to, I'd like to bring you more 'Yuri!!! on ICE' in some form.

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

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alltheficsiwant · 2 years

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The List (Bucky Barnes x Reader One shot)

Hiii! This is my entry for @jadedvibes Falling In Love Writing Challenge. I actually have this idea in my head for a while but I was hesitant to write since in my country. We do not have a "Fall Season". We only have rainy and summer season. I had to do a bit of research. I hope you guys likes it and sorry for any errors. - J xxx

Summary: Bucky Barnes knows what's coming when Fall comes. He didn't want to let himself be affected anymore. He wanted a change. So he made plans, a things to do list. He just hope he could go through with it.

Warnings: Fluff and a bit of ANGSTS. Mentions of motorcycle accident and a disabled character is in the story. If you find these triggering please read with caution.

Words: 4.2k

Bucky has a plan. A list of things to do.

For the first time in over a hundred years that he had lived, despite 70 of them living in captivity, brainwashed and in cryo, he had plans that didn't involve any fighting at all.

This is something Bucky would love to go through over and over again. Even if it's an indication that winter is just closeby. The worst of seasons for him were nightmares that plagued him and raged on furiously as if in a hurry to push Bucky back to the darkness he tried not to drown in. Where the past whispers things that weren’t true but Bucky would believe them, after all the world still sees him that way. Even after the good he tried to do, even after trying to amend his failures and past, even if he has a solid friendship with the new Captain America. Even then, Bucky would happily go through this.

After all, it brought him to you.

Fall usually is where he starts to prepare to ‘hibernate’ as Sam calls it. Teasing him on it and calling him Ice Bear (Sam explained it was from a cartoon which Bucky tried to watch when Sam wasn't around. He kind of liked it better than being called Tin Man but he wouldn’t admit that.) Between those times, Bucky becomes closed off, silent and irritable to end missions. Sam learned that the hard way when they settled to a routine after the Flag Smashers and John Walker debacle.

Even when he shipped off Bucky to Louisiana so that fall and winter wouldn’t actually bother him. Bucky just knew when the season’s changed. He hates the cold and he just reverts back to prepare for hibernation and isolate himself. So when Fall comes, Bucky tries to soldier on and when Winter finally comes. He retreats to his broken down Brooklyn apartment and just be.

Bucky never really tells Sam what he does during that time. He didn’t want to tell Sam that each night, he had a hard time choosing between suffering a nightmare or having the urge to destroy. He had a hard time controlling the voices inside his head that sounded like him but not at all. Bucky is honestly getting tired of that.

His new therapist, the one he chose for himself after the government told him he can, told him that he could take his time. When he voiced his frustration (something he cannot do before and now he is trying to), the doctor assured him that it's okay not to rush. After all, he now has the power to plan or choose for his life.

So that's what Bucky did, make plans. A list of some sort, he sometimes wishes Yuri was there since he was the one who helped him last time on a personal list he made alongside the list of people he had to apologize to. But that is something that he cannot control.

He created a list one night, a few weeks before October comes. He doesn’t want to stay in, so he has to plan things to do to force himself to go out.

Try to take a walk in the morning.

Be Spontaneous.

Eat in a new place.

Try those pumpkin spice latte

Buy a new book.

Feed the birds in the park.

Meet up with Sam and Torres

Try to meet someone new.

There are a lot of tries but he took his time on his list. It might be short but Bucky was proud of it himself and he was just eager to do the list. He didn't think it would bring him to you. His doll. His best friend. His everything.

It was funny though because coincidentally, you have a list of your own similar to his. You have your own demons to face and like Bucky, you tried to create a list to push yourself out there.

You bumped into him as Bucky was too busy looking down on his shoes trying not to flinch every few minutes of kids running around the park. While your head was down trying to fumble with your earphones because you never really got accustomed to how noisy New York is. Though Bucky saw you or more like sensed you before the both of you collided and when he looked up.

He could have easily dodged and went out his way. He has the strength and the speed to do that but he found himself rooted in place as he just stared. Despite everything, he still has a staring problem. He was trying not to do it but there he was caught up on you.

You lifted the earphones on your eye level this time, trying to detangle the knots, your mouth pursed cutely. Your eyes fixated on it and Bucky knew you didn’t see him. Your brows scrunched together cutely and cute little whimpers came out of you.

“Come on,” You cutely muttered as you pouted at the stubborn earphones. Bucky can’t help the twitching of his mouth as you neared completely oblivious to the 6 foot wall standing still in the middle of the park road.

He doesn’t even know why he stopped or why he let him happen. Maybe because Bucky saw something in you, something in your eyes that looked familiar to him. Despite your worry over your earphones, your eyes still darted to the side when a loud noise caught your attention. Your movements are a bit skittish.

As if you just forced yourself out to walk, just like him. Though Bucky has no time to observe you further because there was a thump against his chest and a small gasp as he looked down at the same time you looked up.

Your eyes wide as the earphones clattered on the ground between the two of you and something else fell off your hands.

“Oh, I-I’m so—rry,” You trailed off as you stared at him wide eyed. Recognition flashing before your eyes and for a moment Bucky held his breath. Waiting for the fear or disgust or hostility yet you surprised him as your eyes warmed a bit before it became shy. You took a small step back as you put your hands over your chest.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I am going– oh! My earphones,” you said as you crouched down but then winced a bit as you clutched onto your right leg. Bucky could hear an audible click that sounded like metal from it.

“I’ll get it for you,” He mumbled as he bent down to retrieve the earphones and not noticing the piece of paper. He picked it up and held it out for you as you thanked him. The earphones, surprisingly untangled now as you looked at in surprise. Bucky continued to stare at you, as you pulled out your phone and plugged it in. Though you had to shift a bit and Bucky heard that audible click again and you winced one more time clutching your right leg.

“Are you okay?” Bucky can’t help but ask as you look back at him surprised and confused. Bucky then motioned to your right leg and you followed it. Something changed in your expression but then it settled into a small shy smile as you looked back at him.

“I think, out of all people, you would know,” You told him as you glanced at his left arm, his metal arm.

Bucky looked down at it and clenched his gloved hand. The plates shifted as he did so, realizing what you were saying. You lost it and Bucky assumed that the metal clicking is your prosthetics.

“I-I’m sorry if you I made—”

“No worries. I should be the one to apologize. You might have been trying to take a quiet stroll and— I’ll just leave you to it,” you said in a small voice as you started to move past him. You limped a bit before it settled into a normal pacing. “Thank you for this!” You waved the earphones and then continued your way.

Bucky watched you go and glanced down at his hand but then he saw something else on the floor. A piece of paper. Curiously he bent down to retrieve it and opened it to see a list almost as similar as his own. Though he can’t help but chuckle. It's more of a reprimanding list than an actual list. He also assumed the name written was yours. The first one is already crossed out.

Take a fucking walk in the park, Y/N

Try to be outgoing, yes? Live a little,

Eat other things rather than those takeouts. STOP BEING LAZY.

Give the pumpkin spice latte a taste. Indulge your brother and his basic ass.

Finally buy that series you wanted.

Try to overcome your fear of pigeons and feed them. Count it as a good deed.

Meet with Patricia and Christine. They have been nagging you not to hibernate again.

This is wishful, fall in love. If someone would take up a girl missing her right leg. Sure.

His brows raised at the last one. Huh. That sounded—

“Hi! Did you see— oh!” Bucky looked up to see back in front of him again. Your eyes wide, your hair a bit disheveled (maybe because you panicked a bit when you couldn't find the paper.), one bud of the earphone already on your eye while the other dangles and you were breathing hard as if you ran. “You saw my list,”

Bucky jumped a bit as he blinked and immediately handed it to you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to read it over. It was just—I’m sorry,” He finished lamely as you took it gingerly from him.

“N-No it’s okay. I was just— this is just— you know what, thank you again,” You stuttered out as Bucky looked at you biting your lip. He felt the twitch in his mouth again. Then you stuffed it in your pocket carefully before turning around.

Now Bucky could have let you walk away but something about this moment pushed him to call out to you. Since number one on his list is finished, maybe moved on to number 2? 2. Be spontaneous.

“Y/N,” he called out your name hoping he was pronouncing it right. You immediately turned around, shock evident on your face.

“Hi,” you answered. It sounded like it was an automatic response judging by the way you said it with a jump. Bucky can’t help but huff out a chuckle before he clears his throat.

“Hi, I’m James Barnes—,” He started.

“I know,” You mumbled.

Bucky then nodded caught off guard but then he soldiered on.

“Right, I– ummm– I didn’t mean to know your name or read the list but I also have one,” He stuttered out as he pulled out his little notebook. A small black one, gifted by Sarah. It is where Bucky usually places important things he has to remember and do. He quickly flipped through the pages from the bank account of his pension and money he receives from his work with Sam. Then the numbers of selected people he wanted to contact (For the life of him, he is still having a hard time storing numbers in his phone). Then finally his list.

You patiently watched him fumble and when he looked up. You were already looking down at the list he presented to you. You tilted your head a bit as you read over it.

“I-I was wondering if you know– you want to do it together?” He mumbled as you looked up at him. For a moment the two of you just stared at each other. Bucky now felt himself being drawn in your eyes. He can’t help but admire it as the New York's sun illuminated it making it glow more as you regard him. After a while of you staring, he started to feel the heat on his cheeks. He was tempted to look away but he didn’t. He didn’t want to.

You were silent for a while until your mouth twitched and slowly it lifted to a small smile.

“You are doing your number 2?” You asked him and Bucky couldn't help but return it as he nodded. “Well, lucky. I’m doing mine too,”

Bucky can’t help but chuckle as your pulled out the bud of the earphones out of your ears and stuffed it in your pocket.

“What should we do then James?” You asked as he tucked his notebook inside his pocket. He looked around and sighed. Trying to think of something.

“I don’t know but I would love to have your number first,” He managed to say. Thanking the Gods he didn’t stutter and that made you giggle.

“Smooth,” You told him as you offered your hand. He looked at it confused and you only giggled at him. “I need to put my number in your phone,”

“Oh,” he fumbled around trying to find that damn smartphone Sam forced him to buy in exchange with the flip phone he was using before. He pulled it out and unlocked it.

Quickly you typed in your number but then Bucky heard you gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t have any numbers in your contacts?” You said as you looked up. “Aren’t you supposed to have, I don’t know, Captain America’s number?”

“Do you want his number?” Bucky asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Nope, I got the number I want,” you told him as you continued to fiddle with his phone. You gave it back to him and pulled out your phone. He was about to look into it when his screen flashed with someone calling and your name flashed on the screen. Your full name.

“That’s my name, if you want to know,” You pointed out and ended the call. Then you fiddled with yours and turned around to show his name on your phone.

James Barnes :)

“Now you have my number, do you have anything in mind?” You asked as he regarded you for a moment before something came to mind. Something he wanted to do yet didn’t want to do it alone.

“Have you been to the aquarium?”

The rest was history and it has been a year since that happened. The both of you had gone through the list. You both hated pumpkin spice latte (which you boasted against your brother, who grumpily accepted defeat), Bucky discovered his love for Filipino food and you discovered your love for Romanian food. You finally bought the Lord of the Rings series in which you and Buck took turns to read into. Then the spontaneous trip in the Aquarium was a bust(You both decided to go in a different date than the day you both met) because Bucky got recognized and the both of you ended up feeding the pigeons instead (You promised Bucky to not show the video of you screaming for dear life as you tried to feed them. Bucky laughing his ass off for a while since his Louisiana trip).

You both introduced each other to your friend group. In which both sides proceed to tease about you and Bucky. (Until now, a betting pool between the four of them is in the works of when the two would realize their feelings for each other). The two of you remained friends through it all.

It was a great friendship but recently Bucky wanted more. So he made plans, exactly at the beginning of Fall where he met you. He was determined before winter comes that he wouldn’t spend it alone. He might have spent winter last year with you but this year, he is determined not just with you but together with you.

“Hey handsome,” Bucky looked down at you as your voice brought him out of his thoughts. The both of you are cozied up in the living room of his apartment (He had Sam’s help in making it cozier since you had been over too many times to count. Despite knowing he would be teased, he wanted to make this right). He was already going through the list he planned and it was already halfway fall. Halloween was just over and you had spent the weekend with him last week.

Now you are doing it again and Bucky is just so happy. Now he had just to go through the last three on his list. He was hoping to get it in order.

Give Y/N the favor from Wakanda.

Take her on a romantic date.

Make Y/N mine and me hers.

He was planning to give you today the prosthetics for your leg because the one you had has been bothering you. (You lost it when a drunk driver ran over a red light and you were riding a motorcycle with your friend. You got your leg fractured into pieces while your friend nearly died but now the two of you are alive and well. Your friend unfortunately lost her sense of taste and feeling while you lost your right leg. Surprisingly, it didn't stop you on riding motorcycles. Making Bucky fall in love with you and your strength.)

It was giving you the hardest time to walk recently and Bucky opted on carrying you around much to your protest (He’s okay with it. He likes it, loves it even, because you snuggle your face on his neck every time he does that,) Though he would have to fly you to Wakanda first to fit in the plates that would connect it.

But you looked to have plans on your own. You have been particularly skittish around him today, restless even.

“What’s wrong doll?” You looked at him as you chewed your bottom lip. Your brows furrowed as your hands fiddle with his shirt. Bucky’s arms tightened around you as he felt your nervousness. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I just,” You trailed off and then sighed deeply. Your expression shows as if you lost an internal battle before you sat up a bit. Making Bucky let go of you, he almost pouted but then you pulled out something from your pocket. A familiar looking piece of paper and you offered it to him.

“Is this your old list?” He asked as he took it from your hands. You nodded shyly as you looked down and fumbled with your (his) hoodie.

“Yes, I wanted to show you something on it. Open it,” You told him as you bit your lip harder this time. Bucky looked at you for a moment worried at the expression on your face. He has seen that numerous times since the two of you met. The look you always have when a panic is over the horizon and until it's triggered it remains there.

He decided opening the list would have to be later as he reached to you with his left hand to touch your cheek with his palm. You instantly relaxed on it and nuzzled the metal hand. It still amazed Bucky how you weren’t afraid of it. Like you said you feel much more secure with it.

“I feel safe with you Bucky, you won’t hurt me,”

Nobody really said those words to him. In addition to Sam, Torres, Sarah and the kids. No one put their trust and faith in him not until you came. Despite knowing what he had done and what his past was. So, when you uttered those words, that is when he knew that he was falling in love with you. You never were afraid and you always made sure to show that nothing will ever make you leave his side. So he created his list, THE PLAN but something is bothering you since the beginning of September.

“C’mere,” He murmured as you willingly went back to his arms. You winced at the sound your prosthetic leg has made as you curled your legs to lean your whole body against Bucky. Bucky noticed it and as he wrapped his left arm around your waist, his right trailed towards the strap of your prosthetics. “Let’s relax, okay? Let me remove your prosthetics. I could see the start of your panic and I don’t want that for you Doll,” He mumbled.

You blushed at that as you nodded. His right hand quickly removed it as you helped him. An audible click was heard as you breathed a sigh of relief. Bucky took it from you and placed it against the coffee table.

“Thank you Buck,” You mumbled as you then picked the paper back up to hold it down to him. “Now open it please,”

He chuckled as he laid a kiss on your forehead. Something he started to do recently and it always makes you blush just like now. Burying your face against his chest after. He took the paper in his left hand. His arms are finally around you. You were tiny enough that he can still open the paper with his two hands.

“What is it you want me to see? Didn’t we do all of it?” He asked as he carefully opened it. “I thought you framed this,”

His list was framed, with your insistence when the two of you had done it last year and you told him you framed yours. You even showed it to him so he is slightly confused at this.

“That is a modified list, this the list you saw the first time,” You told him and when he finally opened it. He saw that all of it was crossed out except one.

8.This is wishful, fall in love. If someone would take up a girl missing her right leg. Sure.

Bucky looked up at you as you moved and produced a pen of your own. His heart was beating fast as he watched you. Is this--- He had hope and disappointment swirling inside his chest. Hope that whatever you are trying to tell him is the same as the one he is trying to tell you. Then, Disappointment that maybe you fell in love with someone else and he doesn’t know if he could take that. He was in deep with you.

“I wasn’t able to do everything yet but now I have,” You told him as you leaned down and crossed out the last one. Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked up at him. “I love you James,”

You breathed out and Bucky’s eyes widened. He can’t help but stare as you stare back. Silence enveloped between the two of you. His mind raced but then you blinked. You have mistaken Bucky’s silence as rejection as tears freely fall from your eyes.

“I-I was gearing up to tell you because I have been in love with you for a while. I was afraid that if you d-don’t feel the same way I would lose you. I have to take the chance b-because I don’t want to see you with another woman. B-but it looks like I-I am wrong—”

“I love you,” Bucky finally said, stopping your rant as you looked up. Your eyes wide as tears fall down from it. “Oh doll, I have been gearing up to tell you this too,” He gingerly placed the paper on the coffee table before surging forward to bring you in his arms again.

You sobbed against his chest as he tightened his hold on you. His own tears threatened to come out as he buried his face against your hair inhaling your scent.

“S-say it again Buck,” you mumbled as you looked up at him.

“I love you, Y/N” Bucky said and surged forward, crashing his lips against yours. He cupped your cheeks as his thumb wiped away the tears while you clutched on to him. The two of you kissed for a while before he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Wanting to taste you. You whimpered and Bucky still felt you crying. So instead, he slowed down the kiss and with one final peck he pulled away. “Oh baby, please stop crying. I love you okay?”

You nodded as you left Bucky to wipe your tears. “I-I was so scared and I-I chickened out numerous times to tell you,” you told him. “I was just relieved,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak immediately, doll. You caught me off guard,” Bucky chuckled as he couldn't help but lay a kiss on your cheeks after wiping it. “I was supposed to be the one with a surprise today but of course, you have other plans,”

You giggled at that as you laid a kiss against his jaw. “Sorry about that, thinking about it. We never really did follow the number on your list last year. I crossed out the last one of your list the day we met,” You told him.

Bucky chuckled as he thought of his own list. “Well, you are just doing exactly the same on my list this year babydoll,” He mumbled as he leaned down again to lay a kiss on your lips.

The both of you stayed like that. Kissing and savoring each other until you're pulled away and looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Sorry about ruining your list. I won’t do it next time. I promise. Forgive me?” You asked sweetly as you fluttered your lashes. Bucky can’t help but stare as he thought of a new list for next year. It will surely not be ruined as it was only one thing.

Marry Y/N. Never let her go.

“I’ll accept,” He mused as he put a kiss on your lips before he pulled away. “You’re lucky I love you,”

“I know,”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fallinginlovewritingchallenge #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #jadedvibes #alltheficsiwant writes #ilovemybuck

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cibadiditotobekitoti · 1 month

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Yuri on Ice.... I forgive you for winning at best animation in Crunchyroll awards... Defeating mob psycho 100....please just come back... Please....

#yuri on ice

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boxedsyrup · 2 months

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In October 2016, I was fresh out of a relationship that ended after 6 years and having a terrible depressing time, and treating myself to a vacation, visiting a friend. I read an interview with a voice actor for a new original anime that expressed that he kept crying during recordings because he empathized so much with his character.

I got back from vacation, watched the opening, said "holy shit???", and then a few nights later at like 4am watching anime all night with a friend who was staying the night, I said "... Hey you like ice skating, wanna watch this new ice skating anime?". We watched the three episodes that were out, and then went to this donut shop at 6am contemplating what we just watched while also frantically texting friends to watch it ASAP.

This led to weekly watch parties with our friend group (and it brought all of us closer, tbh!). Every week, they would come over to my place after we all got off work, and we would watch the newest episode.

Several of us would rewatch the series again as we would wait for the next episode to drop. We would share so much artwork and theories that this blog needed to be created (yes it was initially just YOI). We even had Katsucon parties.

Obv it was something different to everyone. It's depiction of anxiety and depression sure hit me.

(please look at our episode 12 chopsticks that got made for the final Katsucon party)

Oh Yurio jacket, how I miss you fitting.

We would tell people about it online, encourage people to watch it officially, to buy merchandise, do anything possible to show it support and to show demand for more.

With the "see you next level" and movie announcements, it was like "wow! We did it! It worked!".

And yes, I found these memes I shared from back then as I dug out all of these photos.

Yuri on Ice changed lives, really was Born to Make History, and made MAPPA the household name anime studio that it is.

MAPPA, you've really made our expectations from you low in recent years, but this is clearly the "next level". 🤧

I'm gonna go drink my Yuri on Ice tea and think about what could have been, and idk, hope that maybe one day MAPPA will give it up to a studio that will do something with it. My boys deserved better.

#Yuri on Ice #yoi #yuri katsuki #victuri #ice adolescence

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what-the-stories-have-foretold · 1 year

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22nd Day: A Calamity

Navi

Yuri x gn!reader, Chrollo x gn!reader

Advent Calendar

Warnings: I apologise for the heavy Chrollo angst incl. implied yandere

Wordcount: each about 200-300

“They´ll be here soon! Do you have the spoons? Where are our spoons?” your dear fiancé was all but running through your shared home, hectically perfecting the already perfected decoration.

“Yuri, dear, please, calm down.”

“I can´t have Loid surpass me, I can´t, I won´t…Oh god, what if the child can´t eat the cake? What if she has allergies?”

You sighed at the sight of your lovely fiancé talking himself into a panic attack.

“Yuri, my love, calm down.” Gently, you laid a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“But-“

“I asked Yor for everyone´s likes, dislikes and allergies. I asked her about food and presents – even the games we can play later on. Everything is fine. I´m certain they will all love this.”

Yuri sighed, letting his head fall unto your shoulder.

“You´re right, angel.”

His hands ran down your sides before coming to a halt right above your hips to lightly massage your flesh. He turned his head to press soft kisses to your neck before he pulled back to look you in your eyes.

“What would I do without you?”

You giggled.

“Probably panicking nonstop.”

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you, but only seconds later the doorbell rang, and you laughed as Yuri started complaining about Loid yet again. This would be quite an amusing evening.

He traced the bed sheets with his fingertips, hoping to find them warm, your heat preserved. Yet, they were cold. Cruel was the world he had been thrown into. Not once did he believe you would be ripped away from his thieving arms so terribly. Horror festered in his heart. At least he believed it to be that. He had known sadness before, surely there is no sadness greater than what he had felt when dearest friends had fallen?

But, your side of the bed was cold and your favourite book - scorched at the edges of the pages - somewhere on the ground.

He felt the tips of your fingers tracing over his throat the delicate touch of your lips on his pulse. He could not remember the taste of your lips. He could not remember the taste of your lips. His heart nearly leapt from his chest. Then he remembered your books of recipes. He would remember the taste of your sugar-laced tongue soon then.

He did not leave the room for what felt like all winter. Snowflakes covered the windows in frost the pattern of Freesias. When cold sneaked through the cracks and into the room, he briefly wondered if this was what fear felt like. Then, his mind was swept away again in memory and thought.

Your lips had fit so nicely against his. Sweet, sweet bliss would overcome him. He remembered times when you had not once spared him a glance. Always staying in your shared room, stubborn and unreachable like a rose caged in ice.

He felt he heard your voice, but he could not discern what you were saying. He heard love amidst curses. Was that your voice, truly? Did you hate him? But he still remembered the way you let him hold you, swaying in the kitchen to the sound of a classical piece he did not remember with the smell of cinnamon in the air.

He traced the bedsheets with his fingers. Why was everything so dreadfully cold?

#yuri briar #yuri x reader #yuri briar x reader #sxf #spy x family #chrollo x reader #hxh chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #cafe employee #what-the-stories-have-foretold #x gn!reader

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hopeisour4letteredword · 1 year

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frozen hearts club

A hypothermia fluri fic.

Read it under the cut, or here on AO3!

Leg injury. Immobile in drifts. Please send help. -Yuri Lowell, of Brave Vesperia

When he gingerly removes the note from Repede’s chattering jaws, when he reads the too-careful, unnaturally stiff loops of what’s nonetheless undeniably Yuri’s handwriting—the way Flynn’s stomach drops isn’t exactly the same swoop of vertigo that befell him when Yuri vanished from the peak of Zaude, but it’s close.

It’s all he can do to bark orders to his brigade to prepare the ship to head northbound. Even then, in the back of his mind, all he can think is, what if he hadn’t been in the area? What if he hadn’t insisted that he needed some time in the field with his brigade again, just to escort an expedition? Would Repede have been comfortable going up to Sodia? Would he have come up to a stranger with that note? Would there have been a stranger around to give such a note, just south of the Drifts, if Flynn’s brigade wasn’t escorting researchers through the area? How far away could ‘help’ be, for this note to hold any real hope? Flynn tries to think of the closest town, the closest encampment, but his mind is blank. He feels like he’s watching from the outside as his body goes through the motions. He’s just—he can’t think for the fright. Repede is already so tired and frail from trekking through the cold alone. He hates the ship, but he won’t leave Flynn’s side. Flynn wraps him in warm blankets and keeps him close to the fire, whenever he’s below deck. What about Yuri? Stuck immobile in the snow, further north in heart of the storms? Will Flynn be able to make it in time, even as lucky as they’ve already been? Wondering about it damn near makes him sick. He can barely keep down his meals. But he has to eat. He’s no good to Yuri if he doesn’t keep his strength up to help with the search.

His brigade make him take breaks, make him rest. Every moment they don’t, he paces the top deck like a caged animal, peering desperately into the grey and white blur of the scenery. Even if Yuri’s out there, how could Flynn hope to find him? It’s a horrible place for a search party. Still, what can Flynn do but try?

“Yuri!” Flynn shouts, at one point, into the howling winds. He’s been doing it periodically for hours now. His voice is starting to go. In the distance, a dark shape moves, barely detectable. An iceberg? A monster? Or a stranded traveler? “YURI!”

There’s a beat of silence. The ship’s crew keeps on with the business of steering behind him, and Flynn resigns himself to more searching.

Then, faintly, almost lost to the winds— “FLYNN!”

The movement behind Flynn stops. Someone whistles, low and disbelieving. Fair enough, some hazy, second-tier part of Flynn thinks. This is exceedingly fortunate.

“Anchor down! Where’s the ladder?” Flynn barks. Movement breaks out again in a renewed flurry. As the anchor descends, someone hands Flynn an emergency blanket.

“Sir, be careful,” Witcher says, anxiously, as another soldier tosses the ladder over the side of the ship. “We don’t know how stable the floe is. It might look thick, but it could break apart at any moment.”

“Yes, alright,” Flynn says, only the omnipresent pressure of responsibility tempering the impatience he wants to snap with. Witcher is right, and too much depends on Flynn for him to be reckless. He should be aware of the safety of his environment. He can’t just rush ahead because they’ve found Yuri. Yuri is alive and aware enough to hear his name over the cacophony of the elements, and strong enough still to shout back. He’s not going to wither away in the next two minutes. Still, Flynn almost vibrates with desperate energy as he knots the blanket around his own shoulders and begins to descend the ladder.

Yuri is here. Yuri is alive. Flynn got to him in time. His anxious pulse rabbits in his veins, converting to jittery relief. He forces himself to step cautiously from ladder to ice, but once he’s found his footing, he whirls around to stride toward Yuri as quickly as he dares.

As he closes in, Yuri’s form develops into something more distinct than a shadow breaking up the white monotony of snow. There’s a small campfire, sputtering pitifully, with Yuri’s pack to one side and Yuri himself huddled next to it, wrapped in a blanket that looks wet even from a distance. He doesn’t get up to greet Flynn. Responsibility be damned, Flynn breaks out into a run, snow crunching under his boots.

“Careful on the ice,” Yuri yells, even more hoarsely than Flynn’s throat feels.

“My boots have grip,” Flynn calls back. He would be more worried about monsters, but a peripheral scan shows no threats. Yuri’s still in good enough shape to defend his encampment, evidently. Then again, for Yuri, that threshold is probably half a step removed from dead. …Flynn doesn’t want to think about this anymore.

“Well, my damn boots apparently don’t, and now I have a broken leg about it, so just be fucking careful, would you?”

Somewhat chastised, but mostly because he’s almost to Yuri anyway, Flynn slows down. He comes to a stop looming over Yuri. Yuri tilts his head up and tries to smile, but he mostly looks exhausted and pained. Sure enough, there's a makeshift splint tied around his right leg.

“Hey, Commandant.”

Flynn shakes his head and crouches beside him. If he doesn’t keep moving, he might start crying from sheer relief. He starts peeling the wet blanket away from Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri shivers violently. “How long?”

“Broke the leg a day ago. Been in the Drifts, uh... three days.”

“Good gods, Yuri.”

“Wasn’t so bad while I was still mobile.” Yuri squirms to be closer as Flynn shakes out the dry emergency blanket and wraps it around Yuri. He lets Yuri adjust the blanket while he turns to kick snow over the sad little fire and make sure Yuri’s pack is in order. When he glances back toward the ship, they’ve begun to lower a skiff with medics and a sled.

“You’re lucky you didn’t go into shock.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I know you have, you damn fool, but have you had them while stranded on an ice floe?”

“Variety is the spice of life,” Yuri says, but he’s missing the mark on humor and veering into miserable. Flynn sighs. He wants something to be mad at, to burn out the fear and concern, but it isn’t going to be Yuri. Not when he’s like this.

“Am I allowed to hug you, or will that embarrass you in front of the Knights?”

“Just get over here. I’m cold.”

Flynn gently pulls Yuri against himself. Yuri lets out a deep, relieved sigh of his own.

“Missed you,” he mumbles, muffled and sounding slightly dazed as he huddles into Flynn’s arms.

“I bet you did,” Flynn says, trying to keep his tone light even with the heavy ache in his heart. He bundles the blanket more tightly around Yuri and pulls him in closer, trying to impart as much warmth as possible. Yuri doesn’t usually go for sentimental reunions where other people can see it. The fact that he is now means he’s either in worse shape than Flynn first thought or he’s horrifyingly aware of how dire his situation could have been. Maybe both. “You big warmth leech.”

“Mm... not my fault you’re always warm.” Flynn can feel the faint shape of Yuri’s lips pressed under his jaw, Yuri is so close. “S’all the sunshine.”

“All the what?”

“The sunshine,” Yuri says, indignant to have to repeat himself. “‘Cause you’re so... nice. And bright. Sunshine-y.”

“You’re deeper into hypothermia than I thought you were,” Flynn says. He can feel his face burning in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Maybe that’s Yuri’s whole strategy, though—to get Flynn flustered enough to function as a localized space heater. “That was positively poetic.”

“Was not. S’true. And I’m not hypothermic,” Yuri says, which Flynn is fully prepared to argue until he follows up with, “I haven’t slept in two days though.”

“Yuri!”

“Might not’ve woken up again,” Yuri says, matter-of-factly. “Too cold.”

“Spirits in heaven.” Flynn can’t help himself. He presses his face into Yuri’s hair. Yuri accepts it without objection, but then he’s shivering so hard Flynn doubts there’s much physical contact he would reject right now. “Give me ten minutes to bask in your safety before you start saying things like that.”

“Sorry,” Yuri mumbles. Flynn’s fingers are starting to feel numb, even through the heavy-duty gloves, and if he kneels in the snow much longer, his greaves will freeze this way. Fortunately, the medics have picked their way over the icy dunes and almost reached them. “Didn’t have Repede to keep watch while I slept, anyway.”

“Slightly less scary,” Flynn says. He shifts around in preparation to load Yuri onto the sled. “I’ll allow it.”

“You didn’t make him come back, right?”

Yuri is definitely woozy, because he doesn’t complain when Flynn slides one arm behind his back and the other under his knees in preparation to lift him. Yuri hates being carried with a vicious passion. Flynn almost wishes he would pull his usual act of snapping and pushing at him for it.

“It’s warmer on the ship,” Flynn says. He heaves Yuri off the ground as the medics pull up with the sled. He keeps talking as they coordinate to settle Yuri onto it as gently as possible. “Even compared to the camp further south. And anyway, he demanded to come along to find his Yuri.”

He starts to pull back. Yuri unexpectedly grabs for his arm. “Flynn—“

“Wh—“

“Don’t go—“

Yuri’s eyes are wide and dark, framed by the frost clumping in his eyelashes. He looks frantic. Flynn gently twists his arm in Yuri’s hold, just to clasp his wrist in turn.

“Don’t go,” Yuri says again, with less desperation and more quiet pleading.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Flynn says, soothingly. He squeezes Yuri’s wrist. “I’ll just walk alongside the sled. We’re all going back to the ship. It’s okay.”

“Don’t go,” Yuri repeats. His eyelashes flutter almost closed as his grip on Flynn’s arm slackens. One of the medics reaches over to check his pulse before Flynn can panic.

“He’s alright for now, Commandant,” she says. “Just worn out. But the sooner we get him warmed up, the better.”

“Let’s go, then,” Flynn says, firmly, burying the fear in his gut as he grabs one of the leads on the sled and slings Yuri's pack over his shoulder.

They don’t go to the medical hold. The more senior medic asks Flynn where Yuri might be most comfortable resting while he warms up; my quarters, Flynn says, and so Yuri is brought to the Captain’s quarters. After being made to remove his outer layers, Flynn is directed to manhandle his semi-conscious friend’s body so the medics can pull away the cold, wet clothing. The senior medic sends her junior out for more supplies while she takes Yuri's temperature and checks him for hidden injuries. Yuri only whimpers softly as he’s prodded.

“Looks like it’s just the leg,” she says. Thank the gods. “It's a clean break, but I’m afraid we won't be mending it quite yet. We want his circulation to be regular again before we try to set it. We'll put a new splint on in the meantime.”

“Is there anything I can do while we wait?” Flynn asks, helplessly. He’s never had to know the recovery process for hypothermia before. Even in the Lower Quarter, their neighbors never let them go cold. The medic gives him a sympathetic side-eye while she fixes the splint in place.

“You can lift him while I pull back the covers, so we can get him wrapped up.” So they do, and when the junior medic comes back, they bundle on the extra blankets. She slides a warm compress in to lay over the back of Yuri’s neck, for good measure. An extra pillow gets stuffed under his splinted leg to elevate it. A steaming thermos of warm chicken stock waits on the side table.

“Stay with him,” the medic tells Flynn. “Have him drink the broth. Keep the compress on his core areas, not his extremities. If you’re worried he’s still too cold, skin-to-skin contact helps, but he seems like he’ll be alright. He was very fortunate.”

Then the medics are gone, and Flynn is left alone with Yuri. His soft, sleepy breaths are barely enough to move the mountain of blankets they’ve buried him under. The ship lurched back into motion ages ago; hopefully the steady rocking is a comfort to Yuri, rather than a concern.

Flynn perches on the edge of the bed and rests a hand approximately where Yuri’s shoulder might be, under the blankets. “...Yuri? Are you awake?”

“Yeh,” Yuri grumbles. Even shadowed by blankets and wayward strands of hair and half-hidden by the pillow, Flynn can see the way his nose scrunches up. “‘M here.”

“Any better yet?”

“Hurts,” Yuri says, plaintively. “Everything. Fingers. Face. Legs. All hurts.”

“That’s good,” Flynn says. “Good. You’re warming up. Your nerves still work.”

“But it hurts.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Yuri’s eyes crack open as he favors Flynn with a sulky look.

“I know,” Flynn says again. He reaches over to brush some of the hair off Yuri’s face. Yuri makes a quiet, surprised noise, turning and pushing into the touch like a cat being stroked.

“‘S nice.”

“My fingers?” Flynn turns the glancing touch of fingertips into a palm pressed to Yuri’s cheek. Yuri’s eyes slide closed again as he rubs his face into Flynn’s hand.

“Warm.”

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Not so much.”

Skin-to-skin contact, the medic said. Flynn hesitates. He’s not just fooling himself to get something he wants, is he? Of course he would cuddle with Yuri in a heartbeat, any time, if he thought it was welcome. But Yuri is in pain right now, and if Flynn can do something to warm him up faster that would hurt less...

“Do you want me to climb in there with you?”

Yuri smiles, wryly, without opening his eyes. “You’d cook.”

“I’m not asking if it would be comfortable for me, I’m asking if you want me to. If it would help.”

“...You don’t have to.”

“I know that.”

Yuri’s eyes slit open again. He burrows down against the pillows, watching Flynn’s expression. After a long, quiet minute, he finally mutters, “I mean. If you insist.”

“I’m offering,” Flynn says, firmly. That’s about as close to a yes, please as he’s likely to get out of Yuri. There's something reassuring about the fact that Yuri feels enough like himself to be obtuse. Flynn rises from the bed and takes off the rest of his under-armor clothes, stripping down to his underwear. He tugs on the corner of a blanket when he’s ready. Yuri flips more of the corner back with shaky fingers. Flynn crawls in with him, tucking the blankets back down around them as he settles and reaches to gather Yuri into his arms.

He regrets it immediately. The noise Yuri makes when his cold skin presses all along Flynn’s warm body is absolutely indecent.

“Geez,” Flynn says, hoping that against all odds he hasn’t gone scarlet in the face again. A man can dream.

“You’re so warm,” Yuri moans. He curls even closer to Flynn and tucks his cold fingers against Flynn’s ribs.

“You’re freezing,” Flynn says, intelligently. To be honest, he sort of appreciates it. It’s hard to spiral down undesirable lines of thought when Yuri is so unpleasantly cool to the touch. It turns out the intimacy of Yuri's bare body isn't enough to make a person ignore cold toes and fingertips.

“No shit,” Yuri says, which Flynn figures is pretty much fair.

“Have we learned anything from this experience?”

“Yeah, not to run any fucking errands for Raven.”

Flynn sighs. “What in heaven’s name did Captain Raven need that put you out alone on the Drifts?”

“Rita’s still mad he sold off that micro-whatever for swimsuits,” Yuri grumbles. He snuggles in to press his nose under the curve of Flynn’s jaw. Flynn tries not to shiver with the brush of cold flesh against his neck. “Tried to send him off to find another one. He pitched this big whining fit about his poor old man bones and joints and the cold, and bribed me into doing it in his place.”

“I know you think you’re passing off the blame,” Flynn says, “But all I hear is that you're still a fool who wandered into the frozen wasteland alone. You should have brought someone else along.”

...Not that he won’t also have a stern word or two for Raven the next time he sees him. For all of Brave Vesperia, really, if they're still letting Yuri do missions like this solo.

“Repede was with me,” Yuri says, defensively. “And I’ve never had any trouble passing through the Drifts before.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. You can’t find your way out of a wet paper bag without finding mortal drama when you’re left alone.”

“Be nice to me, I almost died.”

Flynn grits his teeth against the impulse to lash out at being reminded of how much danger Yuri was in. “I am being nice to you. I’m letting you stick your cold toes on me.”

“I—“ Flynn can practically feel the way Yuri physically bites back his snappy retort. “—I... appreciate that.”

“Good gods,” Flynn says. “You are dying.”

Yuri kicks him under the blankets with his good leg. Flynn responds by sliding his hands down from Yuri’s back to drag them with a threateningly light touch over his sides. Yuri squirms, wary but unwilling to leave the warmth of the embrace.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You started it.”

“I tried to be grateful for once in my life and you made fun of me.”

“It’s my job to make fun of you.”

Flynn flutters another ticklish touch over Yuri’s side. Yuri whines piteously, kicking at him again.

“Seriously, Flynn!”

“Bet it would warm you right up.”

“No!” One of Flynn’s hands circles to Yuri’s front. Yuri grabs him by the wrist before he can sink his fingers into Yuri’s stomach. “I will throw you out of this goddamn bed.”

“It’s my bed.”

“So?”

“Fine, fine,” Flynn says. He pats Yuri's hip in a gesture of peace. Yuri slowly, grudgingly releases his wrist. He’s starting to warm up now; his face is hot where it’s pressed against Flynn’s neck. Flynn wriggles one hand back up to adjust the warm compress over the back of Yuri’s own neck. “How badly does your leg hurt?”

“I’ve felt better,” Yuri says. Pretty badly, then. “Gels I took earlier are taking some of the edge off, though.”

“You aren’t supposed to use them as painkillers like that,” Flynn mutters. Sometimes the gels start to heal the break before the bone can be properly set. He hopes the medics won’t have to break Yuri’s leg again to reset it. The senior medic didn’t say anything about that, though, so maybe it will be okay. He tucks a hand in against the small of Yuri’s back to encourage him to nestle close. Yuri makes a soft sound in a tone Flynn doesn’t recognize. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Yuri mumbles. His fingers curl against Flynn’s ribs again. Louder, he adds, “‘S just apple gels. Didn’t go heavy duty or anything.”

“That’s something, at least.”

“When will they be able to fix it?”

“Not long now, I hope,” Flynn says. Yuri is warming up readily enough, even his previously icy fingers and toes. It makes having him bundled in Flynn’s arms drastically more appealing, but Flynn will simply have to exercise his self-restraint so he can help Yuri feel better without making it weird. “Maybe we can send for someone after you sit up and drink some broth."

“Mm.”

More of a sleepy hum than a sound of acknowledgement. Yuri’s breathing is starting to even out, slow and calm over Flynn’s collarbone. Flynn jostles him a little.

“Don’t sleep yet.” Yuri will be almost impossible to wake up once he crashes, at this point.

“Tired.”

“We need to get your leg fixed. And when did you last eat?”

“Breakfast,” Yuri says. It’s mid-afternoon now. Not that bad, Flynn supposes. He was afraid it would be much longer. “Packed lots of rations.”

“Even if you don't have an appetite, you should eat something small to keep yourself going,” Flynn says. It occurs to him belatedly that he’s been stroking Yuri’s lower back absentmindedly for the last few minutes. Is it weirder to stop, or to keep going? Yuri doesn’t seem bothered; he seems most of the way to sleep, to be honest. Maybe Flynn’s unsolicited petting is a contributing factor on that front. “And you definitely need to drink the soup. Make sure you're warm and hydrated."

“Have to sit up for that,” Yuri grumbles. He burrows down, shoving his face into Flynn’s shoulder rather than his jaw. Flynn wants very badly to kiss the crown of his head, just inches away from his lips. He squeezes Yuri in his arms instead.

"Come on. I'll keep the blankets around us while you do it, and stay with you. You won't get chilled."

"Says you," Yuri mutters. But he slowly, painstakingly extracts himself from Flynn's hold and pushes himself up. Flynn scrambles to sit up with him, grabbing the top quilt off the pile so he can crawl to sit behind Yuri, wrapping the quilt around both of their shoulders. "Soup?"

"Soup," Flynn says. Holding the blanket in place with one hand, he leans over to carefully retrieve the thermos with the other. Yuri isn't shivering anymore, but his fingers are slow and clumsy when he accepts it from Flynn. "You have it?"

"Yes, Flynn, don't fuss."

"I'll fuss all I want." But he does ease his hand away and trust Yuri's grip. Yuri drinks quickly, considering the state he’s in. The broth must be appealing enough. He relaxes ever so slightly back against Flynn as he drinks. When he’s finished, Flynn takes the thermos back and holds his fingers to Yuri’s pulse point. Yuri tolerates this with only a huff and an eye-roll. His pulse seems… normal enough. “Well, what do we think? Are you stable enough for the medics to come back?”

“How should I know? Sure, go get them.”

Flynn finds them, already on their way, before he even makes it out of the corridor his quarters are in. They follow him back to the room and bustle around setting their things up. Yuri slouches back against the headboard, gruff expression poorly concealing his nerves.

“I don’t know when your last serious injury was, but this is mana healing, now. It will hurt,” the senior medic warns him.

“It always has,” Yuri dismisses. She pauses and fixes him with a look.

“Yes, and now it will hurt more.”

Yuri grimaces with fear, although he quickly schools it from back to annoyance. “Okay. Sure.”

“In fact, I would recommend you lie down.”

Yuri does, without further complaint. The junior medic props his broken leg up on several pillows. Flynn hovers near the bed, watching anxiously as the medics position themselves around his friend.

Two pairs of hands hover near Yuri’s shin. Runes spark into existence, stabilizing and glowing. Mana arcs around Yuri’s leg.

Yuri yelps and jerks. The junior medic’s hands shoot down to brace his knee and ankle, holding his lower leg steady. Yuri’s expression twists with agony, face grey.

“Try to stay still if you can, Mr. Lowell.

“Son of a fucking—“

“I know. Call me whatever you need to. Come on. Stay still, best you can.”

Yuri tries to be brave, it’s clear he does. But his body shakes with the effort of repressing the pain enough to keep still, and his knuckles are white from the force he uses to grip at the blankets. After a minute, he drags a pillow closer to himself to turn his face into it, biting down to muffle his pained sounds as the medics work. Flynn can't help himself any longer. He sits at the edge of the bed and strokes his fingers through Yuri's hair.

"You're almost done. You'll be able to rest easier after this."

Yuri removes his face from the pillow enough to croak through gritted teeth, "K-kinda liked it better when I was too cold to feel the leg."

"Don't say things like that." Flynn frowns down at him, forcing himself not to let his fingers tighten their grip in Yuri's hair. "Almost done, Yuri. Come on. Just be strong for a little longer."

Yuri responds by tucking his face into the crook between Flynn's thigh and the mattress, shoulders shaking. Poor thing. Mana-based magic has come much farther than Flynn was once afraid of, and mana healing the furthest and fastest of anything, but it's not yet as efficient as it used to be with blastia. For a broken bone... with blastia, it hurt to mend, but at least it was over fast. It can't be fun to draw it out. Flynn finds himself cupping the back of Yuri's head protectively, as though he could somehow shelter him from the pain.

Finally, the medics remove their hands, both sighing and shaking themselves out. The senior medic straightens herself out and gives Flynn a tired smile.

"All done, Mr. Lowell. Commandant.”

Yuri slumps against Flynn's leg, tension dissipating from his spine. Flynn returns the medic's smile with one of his own, hopefully not as exhausted as he feels. "Thank you very much."

“It’s our duty and honor, sir.” She pats Yuri’s ankle. He flinches, tucking his leg up towards himself defensively. “Mr. Lowell should be on a good course for recovery now. Just be careful of that leg for a few more hours. The mending is complete, but his body isn’t necessarily caught up on that.”

How… ominous. Flynn tries to remember if anyone said things like that about broken limbs when healing magic used blastia and aer. He can’t recall ever hearing that before. Then again, Flynn’s general life strategy has been to avoid breaking limbs. “I see.”

“We’ll get out of your way. Send someone to fetch us from the medical bay if you have any further concerns. Any requests you’d like us to pass along to the steward?”

“Ah—I already sent for food, it should just need to be collected from the kitchen. Would it be possible—?”

“Of course, sir. We’ll make sure someone brings it over.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“No, thank you, that’s all.”

“Alright, sir. By your leave.”

The medics gather their supplies, salute, and depart. Yuri lets out a long, stuttering exhale against Flynn’s thigh.

“All done,” Flynn murmurs. He pats the back of Yuri’s neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Ow,” Yuri mumbles.

“I’m sorry.”

“Better ’n having a broken leg.” Yuri sighs again, shifting back slightly from his hiding spot. “Where’s my dog?”

“The medics asked me to keep him out until your leg was mended.” Flynn cranes his neck to glance at the door. Yuri is likely to cheer up some once he can curl up with Repede again. “Shall I go find him?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Reluctantly, Flynn forces himself to rise from the bed. Tucking a blanket back over Yuri’s shoulders, he assures him, “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hurry up.”

Flynn hurries. Fortunately, he doesn’t need to take long. Repede is lurking not too far from his quarters, looking hunched and miserable, although he perks up at the sight of Flynn and, after sniffing his hands, the scent of Yuri. Tail wagging, he bounds as he follows Flynn back to the cabin. He seems much less bothered to stumble with the rocking of the ship than usual. On their way, a crewmate flags Flynn down, and hands off the food. Excellent. Two missions accomplished at once. Flynn smiles to himself as he cracks the door open to let Repede in and slip back inside his quarters.

“There’s my dog,” Yuri says, sounding the most upbeat he’s been since Flynn found him. By the time Flynn has the door closed behind himself again, Repede is rolling around on the mattress next to Yuri, panting happily. Yuri, sat upright with a blanket swaddled around himself, rubs his belly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. Sorry about the fuss. You’re a good boy. Thanks for getting Flynn for me.”

“He’s a very good dog,” Flynn agrees. They’ll have to reward him with a nice steak or something of the sort when they’re all safely delivered back to Zaphias.

“Yuri, here.”

“What?” Yuri glances up. Weary contentment twists quickly into suspicion when Flynn holds the bowl of food out to him. “What’s this?”

“Food. I told you, you should eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please,” Flynn wheedles. Yuri glares at the bowl. With Yuri’s petting paused, Repede sprawls out next to him on the bed. “It’s just plain rice and eggs. Nothing objectionable. You can eat that just to make me shut up, can’t you?”

“…Did you make it?”

Flynn winces. Of all the times for Yuri to be fussy about taking things from the other Knights. “I… No. I’m sorry. It seemed more prudent to have the kitchen prepare something while we were preoccupied, so that you could get some rest sooner.”

Yuri glances between Flynn’s face and the bowl, then slowly reaches out to take it from him. Flynn could collapse across the mattress in relief. He settles for beaming as Yuri uses his spoon to break into the yolk of an egg, instead.

“Thank you.”

“‘M really not that hungry,” Yuri says. He still shovels a spoonful into his mouth. After a moment of chewing, his expression lightens a little, and he goes back for another mouthful much more quickly.

“I know pain isn’t very appetizing,” Flynn says. “But I would hate for you to sleep off the pain only to wake up nauseated because you were so hungry.”

“I’ve gone longer without eating and been fine,” Yuri says, around a mouth crammed with rice. Flynn could say he’s never been so glad to be disgusted, but this is unfortunately not the first time Yuri has inspired such a feeling. “That wasn’t gonna be the thing that did me in.”

He would really rather not talk about things doing Yuri in right now, to be honest. “All the same, I’ll feel better knowing you’ve had a good meal.”

“Hmph.”

His disdain doesn’t stop Yuri from wolfing down the rest of the food once he’s gotten started, so Flynn won’t complain about the attitude. He takes the bowl when Yuri’s done and sets it aside on the nightstand.

“How’s the chill?”

“…It’s mostly gone.”

Flynn frowns. “Not all gone? I would have thought, by now—“

“S’weird,” Yuri mutters. He tucks his blanket cloak around himself defensively. Repede startles slightly at the sudden rustle of fabric, then settles again. “It’s like it—it clings. It doesn’t make any sense. I know I should be warm now, but it still…”

“You were cold for a good while,” Flynn says. He resists the urge to wedge his hand up against Yuri’s neck to check his core temperature again. Yuri is warm now. Thermodynamically, he has to be. And the medics would have commented on it if he was still cold when they took care of his leg. That was the whole point of waiting to heal him. “…How would you feel about a nice, hot bath? Maybe that would help. I have an ensuite bathroom with a shower. Commandant’s privileges.”

Yuri whistles. “Damn. Big shot stuff.”

“You’d make better use of it than I, right now. What do you say?”

“…I could go for a hot shower.”

Flynn brightens. That was the easiest it’s been to convince Yuri of anything since they got him onto the ship. “Alright. Come on, then. I’ll show you where everything is.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Yuri swings both legs over the edge of the bed and goes to stand. The knee of his previously-broken leg buckles within a split second. Flynn has to dive to catch him. Repede yips and leaps to his feet. Yuri snarls, face smushed into Flynn’s shoulder.

“Fuck!”

“Easy,” Flynn says, heart pounding. Yuri’s frantic death-grip on his arms, thrown around him as he fell, slowly relaxes. “Easy. I’ve got you. Your leg still hurts?”

“Yes. Shit.” Yuri heaves a shuddering breath. “Gods. Okay. Let go. I’m ready this time.”

“Are you sure?” Flynn hasn’t seen Yuri go down like that in… a long while. Not since they were fighting people like Duke and Alexei. He usually has enough self-awareness of his injuries, even if he’s hiding them, not to set himself up like that. “If you need a hand—“

Yuri snorts, stabilizing himself with both hands on Flynn’s shoulders as he forces himself upright again. His grip tightens in starts and fits as he tries to balance without putting weight on his bad leg. Behind him on the bed, Repede watches like a hawk, hackles still raised. “What, are you offering to help me in the bath?”

“Yes,” Flynn says, stubbornly, although it makes his cheeks hot. Yuri stares at him like he’s grown another head. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I don’t want you to fall and crack your head just because you’re embarrassed. Better to just agree on it now and skip the risk than have to call for me anyway after you’ve hurt yourself.”

“I’d accept my fate at that point,” Yuri mutters. He tests putting weight on his other leg again and winces, wobbling. Flynn puts his hands on Yuri’s hips to steady him. Repede slinks toward the edge of the mattress, eyeing his masters nervously. “Better than the lecture. Ow.”

“I didn’t realize mana healing for broken bones still left people so sore,” Flynn says. Yuri is still shifting his weight around like he’s trying to find a comfortable position. No wonder the medic told them to be careful for a few hours longer.

“Probably just leftover bruising,” Yuri says. He finally settles tentatively with both heels flat. Flynn peers down at his leg. It trembles. “And it doesn’t help that I was off my feet for a day and a half, probably.”

No, it wouldn’t help. The thought doesn’t make Flynn any less worried. “Please just let me help?”

“A man could think you had ulterior motives, being this persistent,” Yuri snipes, and Flynn grits his teeth against the reflexive urge to lash back with denial. Yuri is picking a fight on purpose because he’s aching and embarrassed and he thinks he can distract Flynn from making him accept help, he reminds himself. Flynn loses the instant he takes the bait.

“You’re already hurt, Yuri. What if you did fall down now? The ship’s medics just used a lot of energy to heal your leg. What if you were injured badly enough in the fall that they couldn’t heal you, this time, because they were already drained?”

“I won’t.”

“You could easily slip and fall in the bath when you were whole and hale, and you think you can promise me you won’t fall when you can barely stay standing?”

“I’ve never fallen in the bath in my damn life,” Yuri says, but he’s grimacing and wobbling again. His grip digs back into Flynn’s shoulders as he shifts his weight back off his sore leg. “Fucking ow. Fine. You can help me in the stupid bath. Shit.”

“Here, lean on me,” Flynn says, trying not to sound half as relieved as he feels. He fails miserably. He wants to just scoop Yuri up and carry him to the adjoining washroom, but he knows Yuri’s already wounded pride would bite back. He can compromise. “I’ll help you walk. We’ll send for some more painkilling herbs after the bath if you still feel so rotten.”

“Only hurts when I try to stand on it,” Yuri mutters, limping cautiously along with Flynn’s guidance. Repede hops down from the bed, dogging their heels. “You mean like the main role of a leg?”

“…Smartass.”

Flynn shuffles them both inside the bathroom and closes the door behind them, crooning apologetically in response to Repede’s anxious whine at being shut out. No one should be coming into Flynn’s rooms uninvited, but it’s worthwhile to trap the steam in to keep the room as warm as possible. “I’ll get some supplies together. Get out of your shorts in the meantime, alright?”

Yuri scowls, but nonetheless occupies himself with wriggling his way out of his shorts while Flynn searches the cabinet for a washcloth, soap, and shampoo. When Flynn returns to his side, he’s careful not to let his gaze drift. Not that there’s really much he could do to be incriminating short of openly gawking at Yuri’s crotch; Yuri’s been down to shorts this whole time, and Flynn wasn’t kidding about it not being anything he hasn’t seen before, anyway.

“You’re going to get your clothes wet,” Yuri points out.

“You’re the one who was accusing me of having ulterior motives earlier. I thought you might prefer that my shorts stayed on.”

Yuri has the decency to look at least a little ashamed while he says, gruffly, “You know I was only saying that to start shit. Don’t ruin your clothes just because I’m a bastard.”

Flynn sets the bathing supplies to the side and shucks his own clothing. “If you know I know, maybe you should consider learning something from it.”

“…Whatever.”

Flynn cranks on the tap for the shower. A rattle, a haunting creak, and the water bursts out of the pipe, ice-cold. Yuri yelps, trying to hop out of the way and immediately slipping off his good foot when the bad leg gives way under his weight. Flynn has to catch him and haul him back upright, out of the spray’s path.

“No, I don’t need help in the bath, Flynn,” Flynn says, pitching his voice up meanly. He wraps an arm around Yuri’s waist to keep him tucked securely against Flynn’s body while Flynn reaches out a hand to test the water temperature again. “I’ve never fallen in the bath in my life.”

“Fuck you,” Yuri grumbles, against his bare collarbone. “You’re the one who promised hot water—”

“Right away, Yuri. As soon as the shower was turned on—“

“I let you help, didn’t I?!”

“You made me practically beg.”

Yuri is sulkily quiet while Flynn waits for the water to warm up. Flynn ignores him. He’s not expecting an apology. This is how Yuri always gets about accepting help; why would he apologize for it now? So he’s startled when Yuri’s voice is soft and contrite when he speaks up while Flynn is manhandling him back under the shower’s spray.

“You shouldn’t have to waste more time on babying me.”

Flynn stares at him in complete bewilderment. There’s something surreal about Yuri making a vulnerable statement while he’s naked and awkwardly half-wet from the shower, the water not yet equally soaked into all the parts of his hair. Everything feels gravely tense and deeply ridiculous at the same time.

“Waste time on babying you? You had an injury that would have been mortal.” Flynn shakes his head. He tries to make himself focus on the task at hand; the ship only has so much hot water. “Here, one hand on the railing and one on my shoulder.”

Yuri falls silent again as Flynn gets the washcloth lathered with soap and starts scrubbing at his shoulders. Pass the washcloth over his bicep, up his forearm. Flynn feels a burn at the corners of his eyes as he gently rubs the cloth into the pale stretch of wrist that’s usually covered by Niren’s now-defunct old blastia. Wasting time. Hell, Yuri. Flynn knows Yuri couldn’t possibly know just how much time and energy Flynn spent looking for him when he disappeared at Zaude, but the irony of feeling guilty for just the last day and a half isn’t lost on Flynn. He would do far more, far worse things to try to keep Yuri safe. Diverting one ship, from little more than a research cruise? Taking brief time away from his responsibilities as Commandant? Just keeping him warm and comfortable and showering with him? Flynn will do these things easily, happily. But Yuri won’t like to hear that, even though Flynn knows he’s the same way when it’s Flynn who’s in peril. Flynn will have to explain himself another way.

“I like to touch you,” he offers, haltingly. He scrubs the cloth across Yuri’s collarbone. “When you’ve been hurt. It’s reassuring to me. You’re here, and you’re alive, and I can feel that. So even if you weren’t still hurt, even if this wasn’t my best friend needing help that I could easily give, I would want to do this. It’s not wasting time to me. So believe that even if you won’t believe you’re worth the effort.”

“Okay,” Yuri whispers. His grey eyes are wet from the shower. Flynn knows him well enough to know he’s not crying, but the effect is still disconcerting. He cups Yuri’s cheek and tilts his head back to clean under his jaw and down the column of his neck. Yuri’s pulse beats steadily under his palm. Here, and alive, and Flynn can feel it. He has to force himself to move along to Yuri’s other arm. Shoulder, bicep, forearm, wrist—as he moves back to the front of Yuri’s body, Yuri tilts his head back again, glowering up at the ceiling with pink cheeks. Flynn glances at him with some bemusement as he begins cleaning his chest.

“And here I thought you were shameless,” he says, scrubbing carefully over the scars under Yuri’s pecs. Yuri huffs sullenly.

“Different being touched than looked at.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Flynn traces the sharp line of the scar between Yuri’s ribs on his left side that he refuses to talk about. Yuri breathes unsteadily. Ticklish or uncomfortable? It doesn’t matter which; Flynn politely moves on and Yuri relaxes infinitesimally. Under-arms, his sides, his abdomen. Flynn braces Yuri’s hip and circles around to scrub his back. Yuri shifts restlessly on his good leg.

“Careful,” Flynn warns. “You’ll slip… again.”

“I won’t,” Yuri mutters. He stills anyway. He’s unusually obedient for the rest of the bath. Between the two of them, they figure out an awkward way for Yuri to clean his own legs, with the unspoken agreement that they will never talk about this again. Finally, Yuri rinses away the last of the soap. The tap hasn’t even been off a minute before he’s shivering, and Flynn knows he’s not imagining that Yuri curls closer to him than necessary when Flynn reaches out to wrap him in a fluffy towel. Flynn finds himself murmuring some barely-coherent reassurance as he wraps a second towel around Yuri’s hair.

“Cold,” Yuri whines, quietly, and Flynn hates it, because it is chilly on the ship, but he knows it must be so much worse for Yuri.

“Not for too much longer,” he soothes. “Here, just come lean on the counter and pat yourself dry. I’ll fetch you some of my clothes to borrow.”

“I want my clothes.”

“Your clothes are soaked through.” And still in some soggy pile at the bottom of a bucket in Flynn’s closet. He winces at the thought. Usually he would never be so thoughtless, but—he had just been so worried, when they first got Yuri on the ship. He didn’t want to take the time to hang some silly clothes up to dry. Yuri’s horrible to his own clothes, of course, so he’s hardly likely have serious complaints about the matter, but still. Flynn doesn’t mean to mistreat his things. He’ll have to hang them up while Yuri changes. “I won’t put you in a uniform, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You will if you feel like having a laugh.”

“I don’t, not now.” Flynn frowns at him. “Just an undershirt and some breeches. Not even those if you don’t want, I could lend you pajama pants instead.”

“…Pajama pants.”

“Alright.”

Flynn turns for the bathroom door. Yuri’s hand shoots out, fingers sliding over his wet shoulder without finding purchase when he tries to grab for Flynn. Flynn pauses anyway.

“Hey, Commandant, maybe grab your own towel before you track water all over your quarters.”

Oh. Oops. Flynn ducks his head, red-cheeked as he reaches past Yuri for his own towel. Yuri smirks at him half-heartedly as he towels off.

“Mother-henning too hard for your own good.”

“I’m shocked you decided not to just let me make a mess for your own amusement.”

“S’my clothes you’d be dripping on.” True enough. “Besides, we can’t both get sick from being cold and wet in one day. That’d just be depressingly stupid.”

“I’m not going to get ill,” Flynn grumbles. He finishes drying off and sets his towel aside. “I’ll be right back with those clothes.”

Yuri, as impatient as ever, is already peeking out of the bathroom by the time Flynn has chosen clothes for him. Flynn clucks his tongue and herds him back over to the bed. He leaves Yuri to change while he finally drags the bucket of Yuri’s sodden clothes to the bathroom, where he wrings them out over the shower drain. Yuri is still wrestling his way into the pajama pants without bending his bad leg too much when Flynn returns. Repede watches from the floor, clearly dubious about the display of human grace he’s witnessing.

“Do you want some help?”

“No,” Yuri snaps, tone brittle enough with embarrassment to convince Flynn to leave him be. He moves on to dress himself, instead. When he’s done, he glances back just in time to see Yuri about to flop down on the pillows with completely wet hair. He has to dive to stop him.

“Yuri, don’t. Your hair!”

“Don’t care about my hair. I want to sleep.”

“You’re going to care a lot more about your hair when you realize a wet pillow is a cold pillow. Here, give me the towel.”

“What are you, my mother?”

“I can’t imagine how you got hypothermia,” Flynn says, as he vigorously rubs the towel into Yuri’s scalp. Yuri tries to shove him away and misses by a mile, blinded by the towel and his own hair.

“I didn’t take a freaking dip in the ice water, jerk.”

“Then it’s no wonder you were so stinky when I found you.”

Flynn draws back. Yuri blinks up at him, looking bizarrely innocent with his ruffled hair and Flynn’s clothes on, just a smidgen too big in the shoulders. The childish pout isn’t doing him any favors, either.

“Fine, next time I’ll strip down in the middle of the blizzard and get myself wet with my wash kit. Freeze into a real popsicle. Is that what you want?”

“Please don’t.” Flynn turns away and rummages in a drawer until he finds a comb. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Repede hop up back onto the bed with Yuri, curling up next to his legs. Yuri pats his head. The bickering feels a little forced, as though they’re both trying too hard to push back to normal after the vulnerability of the bath. Flynn still prefers it to the charged tension from before the bath, though. He turns back to Yuri with the comb.

“Gimme that,” Yuri says. He grabs a wayward blanket and wraps it around his shoulders before reaching out. Flynn holds the comb just out of his reach.

“Let me.”

“What?” Yuri eyes him warily. “Why?”

“You’re in recovery, just relax for a minute.”

“It’s not relaxing when you pull on my hair.”

“That was years ago. I can be gentle now.”

“You better,” Yuri grumbles, after a moment of hesitation. Huh. Flynn was fully prepared to have to argue more to get his way. Yuri scoots over to make room as he crawls back onto the bed. Flynn coaxes him to sit in the cradle of Flynn’s legs, his back to Flynn’s front while Flynn’s back is against the headboard.

“Three strikes and I take that back.”

“Fair enough,” Flynn says. Again, that’s two more strikes than he expected to be permitted. He wonders if he’s being granted extra concessions based on what he said in the shower about liking to touch Yuri when he’s been hurt. That would be interesting, if it were true. Flynn meant it all, of course, but he hadn’t realized Yuri would take it so seriously.

He separates out a lock of Yuri’s hair to start on, mindful of the spots where it tangles into other locks. Part by part, little by little, using his fingers to carefully manage knots so that he can pick them apart without yanking on Yuri’s scalp. Flynn hums absent-mindedly as he works. He feels much mellower than he had earlier, when Yuri’s leg was freshly mended. It’s the series of small but important improvements to Yuri’s condition, he thinks. Yuri is fed, Yuri is clean, Yuri is warm, Yuri is safe and letting Flynn touch him to prove it to himself. Before long, the comb draws through Yuri’s hair cleanly, no snags, and Yuri’s hair is as smooth and shiny as ever between Flynn’s fingers.

It occurs to Flynn that Yuri has been quiet for a while now. He hasn’t called any strikes.

“Well?”

Yuri stirs with a sleepy mumble, as though he had been dozing under Flynn’s ministrations. “Mm?”

“I’m almost done with your hair. Have I improved at all?”

“…Ah. You are more gentle now.”

“I can’t believe you assumed my hair-brushing abilities plateaued when I was an angry teenager,” Flynn says. He runs the comb through each section of Yuri’s hair one more time, partially to check for missed tangles and partially because he’s not ready to be done having Yuri’s silky-smooth, soft hair running over his fingers. “Although I am sorry to have been so careless at the time.”

“We were both shitty teenagers,” Yuri says, easily as anything. He makes no move to take the comb from Flynn, now that his hair is tidy. Flynn takes it as tacit permission to keep going. “I wasn’t exactly gentle at the time either. I think that’s pretty standard. I told Estelle not to let Rita near her hair until she grows up enough to stop setting things on fire when she gets mad.”

“She wouldn’t,” Flynn says, aghast at the mere suggestion. “Not Lady Estellise.”

“It’s Rita. Might not even happen on purpose.” Yuri leans back. Flynn pauses in his brushing. Yuri tips back against his chest, his head leaning against Flynn’s shoulder. He’s a solid, limp weight. Flynn gets his hands out of the way and tentatively rests them on Yuri’s hips. “You’re warm.”

“You are too, now,” Flynn says. He drums his fingers against Yuri’s hipbone. “Still feeling chilled?”

“Mm. Little bit.” Yuri sighs. “Guess my head’s still not caught up with my body.”

“That’s fine,” Flynn says. He rests his head against Yuri’s, letting their weight press into each other. “I can spare a little body heat if it’s helping you.”

“Thanks.” Yuri is quiet for a long moment in which Flynn wonders if it’s okay to leave his hands where they are. It feels like the right place to put them, if this is how Yuri wants to sit with him. Ideally for Flynn, of course, he would have his arms wrapped fully around Yuri so he was safely and completely cocooned in Flynn, but that’s pushing it, platonically speaking. “...Flynn?”

“Mm?”

“Uh.” Yuri huffs out a forced laugh. “This is real, right?”

Flynn blinks, baffled. “Real?”

“I mean. We’re really here and I made it to safety, right? I’m not having some weird dying dream in the snow?”

For fuck’s sake. Flynn gives up on the self-restraint and hooks both arms around Yuri’s middle to pull him snugly back against Flynn’s body, folding his arms over Yuri’s waist and bracketing Yuri’s hips with his knees. Yuri yelps, but when he reaches for Flynn’s wrists, it’s to hold rather than remove. Repede jolted to his feet with the sudden movements, but now he circles back to Flynn’s side to lay beside them. His tail curves under Flynn’s leg to brush up against Yuri’s feet.

Flynn tucks his face against Yuri’s shoulder and mutters, “Feel real to you?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, but his voice wobbles. Flynn squeezes him. Yuri huddles down in place like he can burrow inside of Flynn. “Thanks.”

Flynn can’t squeeze Yuri much tighter without hurting him, but he wishes he could. He remembers Yuri’s wide eyes, framed with snowy lashes, as he begged Flynn not to leave him alone on the sled. It takes a lot to scare Yuri. Flynn knows he frets too much most of the time, but... he's usually making up for Yuri being more flippant. Even when Yuri takes things seriously, it's usually because someone else is in trouble. Not Yuri himself. For Yuri to be curled in Flynn's lap, asking to be comforted—

Flynn tries to convince himself that it's good that Yuri understands how much danger he was in. That it's not a terrifying disruption to Flynn's ability to compartmentalize. It's not as though Flynn didn't already know how bad the situation was. Why does Yuri acknowledging it make him so anxious? It shouldn't be a bad thing. It's progress. Flynn wants him to have self preservation instincts, to be able to be scared for himself and seek help. This is what they were talking about earlier, in the bath. Or rather, what Flynn was too much of a coward to push him on earlier in the bath.

“…I’m being stupid. Pretend I didn’t—“

“You aren’t being stupid,” Flynn says, lowly. “I’m right here. I’m with you. This is real. You made it and you’re safe.”

Yuri lets out a shuddering breath. Flynn spreads one of his hands flat over Yuri’s chest to feel the thump of his heartbeat. It’s perfectly normal. Maybe a touch fast, but normal. Yuri is fine now, just rattled. They could both do with that reminder.

“You should sleep,” Flynn adds, more gently. Surely the sleep deprivation isn’t helping Yuri’s frame of mind. “I’m sorry to have kept you up so long. Rest now, okay? You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Of course, if that’s what you want.”

“...Yeah.”

Yuri lets Flynn manhandle him until the blankets are out from under their butts and Flynn can curl up behind him as the big spoon, under a pile of warm covers. Repede stretches out in front of Yuri, leaning over to lick him once on the nose. Yuri snorts.

"Eurgh, dog breath."

"He's just telling you he's here, too," Flynn says. He wriggles an arm out from under the comforter to pat Repede before draping his arm back over Yuri's side. “Wake me up if you need anything, alright?”

"'Kay," Yuri mumbles. "You nap too. Work too hard."

"Okay, Yuri," Flynn says, patiently. He works a perfectly normal amount, and he doesn't feel much tired. He can't imagine he's going to sleep, as wound up as he feels with the ebbing fear of Yuri in peril. He'll just lie here and make sure Yuri is warm and comfortable, and enjoy the moment.

...

...Yuri's body is very warm and comfortable snuggled up against his...

...And he smells nice... and he's snuffling quiet snores into Flynn's pillows, the both of them cocooned with the soft quilts and...

Flynn sleeps.

#fluri #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #tales of vesperia #long post

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