#my name is actually fucking Victor and I grew up on ice skating. does this say enough.

[bigender-cowboy]

I was actually so sad when Ice Adolescence was canceled. You don’t even know. Back in the days where I had just realized I was queer, 11-12, I watched Yuri on Ice. And I rewatched it. I watched it when I got home from ice skating practice. It was something I loved so deeply. And then there was the movie I was waiting on, for years. AND THEN THEY CANCELED THE MOVIE.

[ffxvhoe]

Do you have any general or nsfw Prompto or Ignis headcanons?

Prompto

SFW

So we all know that this boy is baller at taking these insane photos with his actual pro camera, but he is also annoyingly fantastic at taking pics with his phone??? like he’s 100% that guy that has the most crisp and aesthetic instagram (or Eos’s version of insta)

He’s a dog person

Honestly he gets more of his workout from trying to get good photos of things.  Like he’ll climb trees, buildings, etc. all in the name of getting a good photo

Doesn’t like avocado; he thinks the consistency is weird as heck.  He does enjoy a nice guac tho

He really, really loves his freckles???  Like he just takes great pride in them tbh

Has two completely full portfolios, and is easily making his way through his third

Doesn’t actually want to become a photographer.  He’s worried if he made it his job that he’d stop enjoying it as much as he does when it’s his hobby

He has, however, been asked by a few magazines to take some photos/do photoshoots for them

Favorite food is quesadillas, usually with chicken and cheese, and will not put up any of that mild salsa stuff – give him the hot stuff

is pansexual

NSFW

Easily one of the most experimental when it comes to sex; he’ll try almost anything at least once

Not into being called daddy

He’s a switch

Enjoys a little bit of pain during sex so markup his back with your nails, bring some hot oils to pour along his body, he’s down for it all my dude

Is a dork in bed most of the time.  Expect many jokes being made and to probably laugh quite a bit.  He finds that it eases the tension and also makes him feel less self-conscious

If you want him to be rough with you you’ll have to ask him.  It’s extremely rare for him to go Dom Prom on you without you asking first.

Sex drive is high as fUCK

And honey this boy is hung

His favorite fantasy has to do with photoshoots both with or without the other bros and yourself (I have…a few ideas for a fic for this lmao I’ve thought about this a LOT)

Is very much into public sex

Loves it when you run your tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock

Enjoys the taste of his own cum and will happily eat out his his s/o if they have a pussy right after cumming in them

If he’s with an s/o that has a dick, he will pull them up to share a kiss after he cums in their mouth

Another fantasy of his would be to be tied up and have a vibrator pressed to his cock, overstimulating him

Ignis

SFW

Didn’t actually like cooking when he first started, but grew to enjoy it out of necessity.  It also slowly became a way for him to kind of just sort through his thoughts and the events of the day

You know that episode of Yuri on Ice where they show pics of the gala where Victor and Yuri end up stripping and pole dancing together??  Yeah, a very, very similar thing happened to Ignis at the after party of one of the royal galas.  

So, something else to note is that Ignis can pole dance and he’s actually quite talented

Can hold his liquor like no other.  All the chocobros have tried to out drink Ignis before and all have failed in that endeavor.  

The Wine Mom

Can lapse into depressive episodes when left alone and idle for too long, hence why he throws himself into his work.  It’s a double edged sword though because he then often ends up working himself ragged.

bisexual

Mild germaphobia 

Favorite color is blue, but like a softer more pastel blue

Honestly is not a huge fan of veggies either but don’t tell Noctis

Is great at ice skating

He’s actually very worried that he’ll never end up finding someone to settle down with because his life is so devoted to Noctis.  He’s worried that he won’t be able to spend enough time with his s/o because of work and therefore avoids dating until he’s into his early to mid-thirties

Ends up with two daughters

Has a small scar on his upper lip from a cooking accident…don’t ask

NSFW

A dom save for a select few, very rare occasions

Prefers amateur porn

Enjoys masturbating naked save for an unbuttoned shirt

Not all that vocal in bed

Has fantasized about the other bros before

Not super adventurous; he knows what he likes and what he doesn’t

Prefers receiving oral over giving

Actually loves phone sex because he knows how worked up his accent gets his s/o and he gets aroused by the need that overtakes his s/o’s voice

A  T E A S E 

Loves orgasm control and edging (giving)

Will often create little games for the bedroom, these games often ending with his s/o a complete and utter wreck

Enjoys sensual love making.  One of his favorite parts is actually setting up and creating the mood

After losing his sight he becomes very much into sensation play

Prefers to be called Sir over Daddy

Nipples are actually quite sensitive so he thoroughly enjoys when his s/o teases them.  Sometimes he’ll even ghost his fingers over his nipples when he’s in the middle of a masturbation session

Comes to really enjoy mutual masturbation, especially if he’s instructing his partner on what to do

[rosierues]

Yuuri (on my wall)

A quick one-shot, because the idea made me smile. I’ll be back with more Manifest Emotion soon, though :)

Title and AO3 link: Yuuri (on my wall)

Rating: Teen for Yuri’s potty mouth

Summary: Victor wishes he had a collection of Yuuri's memorabilia. Yuuri doesn't think there is any.Yuri Plisetsky knows better.

Victor insisted on bringing the stupid pork cutlet bowl’s creepy as fuck poster collection back to Russia with them. It now covers an entire wall of their flat, and Victor likes to pose next to it. To his credit, the pork cutlet bowl, who has enough of a sense of shame to balance out Victor’s complete and utter lack of it, tends to turn red and stammer in horror whenever he does it (unless he’s drunk and Yuri does not need to think about that, thank you very much. He’s already scarred for life). Over the next few months, more posters get added—multiple versions of their disgusting paired skate, and several new and shiny ones of Pork Cutlet Bowl in his latest costumes. It’s almost sweet, in a grossly egotistical way.

And then one day, Yuri overhears Victor saying mournfully, “I can’t believe they never made any official merchandise for you before now, Yuuri. I would have collected it all.”

Yuri chokes on his drink.

And Pork Cutlet Bowl, the lying little piggy, says, wide-eyed, “Oh, I was never that important, Vitya. Why would anyone make posters of me?”

Yuri chokes again, so badly he starts coughing.

Mila hits him obligingly on the back and asks, “Something wrong, baby?” Her voice has that note that suggests she’s caught the scent of a secret and won’t rest until she ferrets out the truth.

“No!” Yuri snarls and then, because her eyes are still narrowed, he lies, “Beka sent me a picture of a cat on a rollercoaster.”

She ruffles his hair, laughs at him, and wanders off to torment Georgi.

To be safe, Yuri texts Otabek. Send me a picture of a cat on a rollercoaster. Quickly!

Otabek texts back, Should I ask?

No. Just do it!

Otabek sends three. Hah. Yuri wins all round.

But it gnaws at him, especially once he realises that the idiot who shares his name actually meant what he said—he genuinely believes that nobody ever made any merchandise of Japan’s top figure skater. How the fuck is that even possible? He must have signed the contracts—must know he has sponsors.

Otabek, over Skype, furrows his brow thoughtfully and says, “Didn’t he also not notice that he was engaged to Victor? Even after he bought the rings and proposed himself?”

Yuri beats his head against the desk a few times. “I hate him. I hate Victor. I hate them both.”

“Of course you do,” Otabek agrees with him. “That’s why you called me at two am to rant about them.”

Yuri lifts his head just enough to give Otabek a Look. 

Otabek looks stoic, but his mouth is ever-do-slightly tilted at the corner in the way that means he’s laughing inside.

Yuri hates everybody.

All the same, he can’t quite get it out of his head, especially after he goes online and sees how expensive vintage Yuuri Katsuki memorabilia has become since the stupid piggy squeaked his way to a World Championship win. Some of it you just can’t get anymore, even if you’re stupid-rich and profligate like Victor. And Victor knows this too—Yuri’s heard him bemoaning it to Georgi over lunch.

And it’s annoying, okay—annoying on the same level as the stupid Yuuri vs Yuri whiteboard Mila’s put up in the changing rooms, just out of his reach (it started as quads landed in practice, until Yakov banned that when accidents started happening, and now she changes the terms every week. Last week it was Claiming to be average vs Screaming on ice. This week it’s Caught kissing his fiance when he should be practising vs. Caught messaging Otabek when he should be stretching which is totally unfair because some people, unlike her, know how to multitask).

Yuri stares up at the posters of tigers and bands that cover his walls and tells himself that it’s none of his business and he doesn’t fucking care and Victor’s too annoying to deserve nice things anyway. 

Except…

Except every time someone mentions posters, Victor’s doing that stupid wistful pining face that he wore for weeks after Sochi, and though Yuri obviously doesn’t care about that, anyone who walks into the Apartment of Gross Idiocy right now might assume that the pork cutlet bowl is a stalkerish weirdo superfan (which he is, of course) and not that everything they’re seeing is evidence of Victor Nikiforov’s over-romanticized egotism. And that’s just not fair.

So that’s the only reason Yuri hesitates at the end of his next phone call with his grandpa and mutters a request.

Kill me, he messages Otabek later. Kill me now.

Can’t. Too tired to walk to St Petersburg.

Do it remotely.

Too poor to hire assassins. You’ll have to live and suffer for another day.

Yuri goes to sleep grinning to himself triumphantly.

Grandpa brings the box with him next time he comes to visit. It’s covered with dust from the attic, and the corners are a little soft with age, but everything inside is still in good condition—Yuri checks and no, he doesn’t linger over certain items. He’s just being thorough.

“Are you sure you want to get rid of all this, Yurochka?” Grandpa asks. “You used to love it all so much.”

Yuri hunches his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I grew out of that crap. It’s dumb. Only little kids like that stuff.”

Grandpa eyes the posters currently covering his walls and then turns a wry look at Yuri. He doesn’t say anything, though, but changes the subject to ask after Potya. Yuri makes him pose for a selfie (with Potya, of course) and posts it on Instagram.

Otabek is the first to like it. Yuri sends him a message that says, Your turn!

He was only hoping for a cat picture, but a few hours later, Otabek posts a picture of himself with his tiny, impossibly ancient grandmother and a ginger cat that takes up both their laps. All three of them have exactly the same lack of expression. 

Yuri saves it to his phone and spends the next few days showing it to everyone he knows, even after Mila changes the whiteboard targets again.

Yuri waits with the patience of cat (heh) stalking its prey until Pork Cutlet Bowl next leaves the country for a meeting with his sponsors (“Bring me a poster, Yuuri,” Victor calls forlornly as he vanishes through the departure gate). That evening, Yuri invites himself over to eat Victor’s food and play with his dog. He takes the box with him, taking satisfaction at the smear of dust it leaves on Victor’s perfectly polished table. He leaves it there to swerve into the kitchen and open the fridge.

“What’s this?” Victor asks, sounding puzzled.

The quality of the leftovers in Victor’s fridge has definitely gone up since the stupid piggy moved in. Yuri snags a bowl of gyoza and trails over to the microwave. “Some old crap I’m getting rid of.”

“So you brought it here?”

Yuri shoves the food in the microwave and leans back oh-so-casually. He watches as Victor flicks the box open with the tip of his finger and then goes still before diving in to seize the topmost poster. It unrolls in his hands to show Katsuki Yuuri in mid-triple axel, his face intent and his arm raised towards the sky. It’s the sky blue and white free skate costume from his victory in the Junior Grand Prix Final, and Yuri feels the faintest twinge of regret—it had taken weeks of frustration and wrestling with bad google translations to get that delivered from Japan.

Victor gazes at it as if it was the real Yuuri, and then lifts his face to stare at Yuri.

“Yurio?” he breathes.

“Not my name, old man,” Yuri mutters. “Like I said, old crap. It was taking up space in the attic.”

Victor does weird heart-faced things with his face, freak of nature that he is. 

The microwave pings and Yuri retrieves his food and slithers back towards the sofa. He says, with the glare he usually saves for Mila. “If you breathe one fucking word to him, I’ll… I’ll…” He can’t think of a threat dire enough.

“I’ll stay quiet,” Victor promises, miming zipping his mouth shut. That’ll be the day.

Yuri slumps on the sofa, making room for Makkachin, switches the TV on, and eats Victor’s dinner as the man himself makes embarrassing squeeing sounds behind him. After a while, he puts his plate aside and goes to mock Victor (and if the mockery includes the odd muttered bit of information like, “And that’s the limited edition figurine in the Olympic jacket,” and “there’s only fifty of those in the world with his actual signature on, so don’t crumple it, fuckwit,”, it’s just to make it clear that he knows the exact extent of Victor’s stupid crush).

When Yuuri gets back from Japan to be greeted with Victor’s new collection, he’s absolutely mortified. Yuri knows this because he talks about it all week.

“I didn’t even know they made all that,” he keeps saying. “Vitya, where did you get it?”

Victor, for once in his fucking life, remembers his promise and keeps his mouth shut. 

Yuri pretends not to be listening, staring at his phone intently even as Mila wanders past with a whiteboard pen.

He’s got better things to do. Ignoring the cacophony of idiots around him, he scowls at eBay. There’s an official poster of Otabek Altin with his gold medal from the last Four Continents which would fit perfectly on the back of Yuri’s bedroom door.

Band posters are for dumb kids, after all. Yuri thinks it’s time to collect something new.