#yoi post-canon fanfiction

[thegayfigureskatingagenda]

Did My Heart Love 'Till Now Chapter 3

The visa drama

Summary:

While Yuuri keeps practising in Japan, Viktor is pulling out all the stops to have his Yuuri by his side again. But the bureaucracy of his home country proves to be a greater challenge than becoming the five-time world champion.

The new chapter of my YOI sequel is live! I'd be happy if you checked it out 💜💙

Excerpt below the read more tag

Cover illustration done by the talented @cosmiclion

Excerpt

Viktor’s home in the heart of Petrogradsky Island was as spacious as it was luxurious, and so was his wardrobe. In those nine months which he had been away, he had grown used to selecting from a smaller variety of clothes. But even then, he still frequently struggled to pick the pieces he really wanted to wear and either ended up feeling uncomfortable in something he hated or wearing his favourite clothes for days.

“I don’t remember owning so many clothes,” he muttered to himself as he stared at the orderly stacked T-shirts, long sleeves, sweaters, jeans, and chinos as well as the shirts, suits, and coats on hangers. Not to mention the two drawers of all sorts of shoes, starting at sandals and sneakers and ending at fine leather shoes and snow boots. “But apparently, I do.”

When he had moved to Japan, he had taken only his favourite clothes with him—and these had still forced him to declare extra cargo. His gaze wandered over Gucci suits, Hugo Boss shirts, and Armani shoes. He had not missed the things he had left behind.

“What do you think, Makkachin?” he asked his dog. “Shall I give a some of my clothes away or shall I buy a second wardrobe for Yuuri?”

On his bed, Makkachin opened a weary eye as if he wanted to say “what do I care for what kind of fake fur you wear as long as you smell like you?”

“You’re not helping,” Viktor said. “In one week, Yuuri will be here and he needs space for his clothes.” He stroked his chin. “Unless…”

He hurried to the rack with his suits and pulled out one he had received as a gift when he had endorsed Armani. “Makkachin! Do you think Yuuri would like this? It might be a bit too big, but even a mediocre tailor could fix this.”

Makkachin whined.

“No? Makkachin, you disappoint me. I think Yuuri would look hot in it. I…” He checked his phone. “Well, why don’t we just ask him? It’s almost time to call him anyway.” He opened Skype, swiped to Yuuri’s avatar and pressed call. “Let’s hope he’s awake.”

It took forty-seven seconds until Yuuri answered the call. “Viktor!” he panted. “You’re early.” His messy hair was in total chaos as if he had slept on it. Viktor found him exceptionally cute.

“Hi, Yuuri!” he said and waved at the camera. “I have a question and so I thought ‘why not call earlier?’”

“I was fighting with the printer and hit my head.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Excellent. I was searching my wardrobe for clothes that I could donate and found a few that would look cute on you.”

“Viktor!” Yuuri protested.

 Viktor held up the hanger with the Armani suit. “It’s a timeless piece and the seams are all French in case you are sensitive about such things. It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“That’s a designer suit!” Yuuri breathed.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“Yes. But no! I don’t want it!”

Most people that Viktor knew would rejoice at the opportunity to get an Armani suit for free. As this was Yuuri-the-pillow-thief, who had insisted that Viktor wore his coat during the Grand Prix Final short programme so that his scent would be all over it and who had scented his own bed with their lovemaking, Viktor had not expected him to turn such an offer down. “Why?” he asked. “Most of these clothes are basically new. I wore them once or twice at most.”

“I’m not the type for this kind of clothes.” There was a pale blur as Yuuri waved his hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture. I just don’t want to wear such expensive clothes. I’m not a charity cause!”

[triptychgrip]

A plea to the angst writers in the Yuri!!! on Ice fandom...

...can I rally you to write some post-canon angst (with a happy ending), pretty, pretty please?! When I want to feel like I've been stabbed in the heart, it's generally in a post-canon context, a few years down the road.

To be clear, I've read plenty of great YOI fic that deals with the inevitable angst that comes from Yuuri's first few months adjusting to life in Russia; this is a big change for him in terms of beginning domestic life with Viktor and starting to train at a whole new skating club in St. Petersburg, so it makes sense that the angst potential there is ripe.

But just because our favorite skating fiances might become skate husbands doesn't mean that their hardships vanish (even if they learn to actually communicate instead of expecting their skating to do the talking for them). Training injuries, Viktor eventually retiring, Makka getting older *sobs*, and the inevitable past traumas that naturally crop up in intimate relationships...these can all be sources of stress and, thus, conflict.

In general, I have a preference for post-canon fic over developing relationship fic, because I long to see what happens after "the chase" (i.e. after Yuuri and Viktor fall in love). Don't get me wrong: I adore canon YOI, but for the majority of the time that we see Yuuri, it's within a context where he's fully expecting Viktor to leave at some point, not believing he is "enough" for Viktor to want forever with him (as a coach or partner).

And, up until that "let's end this" scene, Viktor is still quite guarded when it comes to his negative emotions, because even while Yuuri tells him that he wants him to be himself, you don't get over ingrained, years-long masking tendencies in months, or even a year or two.

There is trust and vulnerability between them, but it's burgeoning.

Which is why I think the few-years-down-the-road angst scenarios can be so compelling, precisely because there is that accumulation of trust and vulnerability that comes from learning one another over time.

This is a point where Yuuri knows that Viktor wants forever with him.

They're married, have probably adopted multiple dogs together, maybe they've left Russia b/c Viktor has retired by now, so he wouldn't need to train with Yakov in close proximity. But, anxiety doesn't care about any of these realities. So what if Yuuri is now an Olympic Champion, or if they are both retired and co-coaching the next generation of talented skaters? The "right" kind of thoughtless remark from Viktor, or just an off-day can cause all the "proof" of forever to fly out the window.

And Viktor: so what if he logically knows that Yuuri won't leave him just because he's getting older and his chronic knee pain is getting more and more acute? Or, if he gets triggered during a tough therapy session (because a man who ignored life and love for twenty years should probably definitely be in therapy), activating the abandonment issues I strongly suspect he has?

This could definitely be one of those "write the fic you want to read" situations, but writing angst really does not come naturally to me. Doesn't mean I won't do it, I just know that there are very talented people out there who actually enjoy it, which is just...incredible to me, lol.

[nsolyoi]

Summary:

What will Yuuri and Victor do after retirement? What does destiny have in store for them? Will their lives continue to be full of life and love?

This was one of the christmas gift for the Holidays on Ice!!!

[triptychgrip]

Highly, highly recommend Onward to Viktuuri!

Being able to see the realities of what it would take for Viktor and Yuuri to set up their own training center in Hasetsu is super interesting. Plus Viktuuri are just so sweet and domestic together 🥰

Happy Holidays! :D

I was given the opportunity to write for not one but THREE fellow fans this season! ^_^ Two are already posted by the secret santa, so I can link them here. :) Both are very fluffy if I do say so myself.

This one above was for @minsuigeneris who also created an awesome fic AND art for my friend Cricket, so go check them out too!

And this one above was for @blonndiec, who by coincidence I'm also getting to know on bluesky (I'm MelV there.) This one is near and dear to my heart because I got to use some of the post-canon theories I've been playing with for literal YEARS. lol I hope they liked it. :)

The third... well, that's not gifted quite yet so you have to wait. ;)

[smallyoificrecs]

all the wrong turns

azurewaxwing Chapters: 4/6 Relationship: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Rated: Explicit Words: 31475 Summary:  Poodle Yuuuuri did you know you're ranked second on “Top Ten Butts in Men’s Figure Skating” ???

The blog had ranked Victor third, below Yuuri, which is laughable. “This is an opportunity,” Phichit says, when he finds Yuuri in the kitchen, staring at the text while his pot of instant noodles boils over on the stove. “To find out if it’s Victor, I mean.”

Katsuki Yuuri the rankings are clearly wrong particularly the top three

But either Poodle isn’t Victor, or he isn’t interested in defending the honour of his butt: of course it’s wrong! your butt is clearly superior to that Canadian, his ass is flatter than blinchiki.

(After his disastrous Grand Prix Final, Katsuki Yuuri decides to try to be the first skater to land a quad axel in competition. It’s a secret from everyone, except the mysterious text correspondent who appeared in his phone contacts as “Poodle” following the Sochi GPF.)

Read it here!

[ewokthrowdown]

✨🧸 Our Little World 🧸✨

Yuuri wakes to a loud shriek and sits bolt upright in bed, eyes wild, already about to vault off the mattress to go save his child. But then the shriek dissolves into delighted giggles accompanied by Victor’s cooing praise. Yuuri relaxes. He flops back onto the bed, his heart going about a hundred miles an hour.

There’s light streaming in through the curtains, which Victor must’ve pulled back when he got up. Ever the early bird, Victor has been trying to use daylight to help his night owl husband wake up naturally. Unfortunately, when one has a seven month year old waking them up at all hours of the night, a bit of daylight doesn’t quite cut it. Even Victor’s been struggling.

Yuuri rolls over, reaching for his phone. According to the screen it’s seven AM, which is at least later than the five AM that little Hisashi usually likes to wake up at. No doubt he did wake up then but Victor, beautiful, lovely Victor, went to take care of their son to let Yuuri have a bit of a lie-in.

Yuuri blinks blurily at the snow falling outside the window for a little while, waiting for his body to wake up properly as he listens to his family in the other room. Victor’s left the bedroom door open a crack and the sounds of him chatting to Hisashi in a mixture of English, French, Russian and Japanese is endearing. Hisashi will no doubt grow up fluent in all four, probably in Thai too if Phichit has anything to say about it, which will be good for any future job prospects.

Eventually the tug of wanting to see his husband and child pulls Yuuri from bed, and he tugs a dressing gown and a pair of slippers on before going to find them.

Hisashi sits in his high chair at the end of the little table attached to their kitchen counter. They haven’t had to move since adopting the baby, as Victor had bought a flat with a spare room, which now belongs to Hisashi. No doubt they’ll make the move in a couple of years, perhaps when they get another dog, what with Makkachin getting old and everything. Not to mention it’d be nice to have a room to put guests in. So far when people have visited they’ve stayed in Hisashi’s room while he sleeps in his parents’ room, either in the fold out crib or in bed between them, but it’s hardly a long term solution.

Hisashi turns his big brown eyes to Yuuri as he enters, his face breaking into a gummy smile as he squeals with delight, reaching out towards his Tousan with chubby little hands. Victor’s head pops around the corner of the open plan kitchen as Yuuri approaches, alerted to his presence by their son.

“Hello, little bird,” he says, endlessly fond as he comes to meet Yuuri halfway to give him a peck on the lips.

“Mm… hello,” Yuuri returns, tucking his head under Victor’s chin and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Sleep well?”

“Brilliantly. Thank you for getting up to take care of him.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to be up anyway. Isn’t that right, baby?”

The last is said over his shoulder to Hisashi, who seems to be getting irritated at being ignored, making a grumpy little noise.

“Okay, mochi, I’m coming,” Yuuri assures him, untangling himself from Victor to go and scoop up his boy. It’s not usual for Japanese people to use food as nicknames, usually adding “-chan” to the end of shortened names, but being around Victor and his many terms of endearment has rubbed off on Yuuri. And Hisashi’s sweet and squishy as mochi anyway.

Hisashi gurgles in a pleased sort of way, expression happy again as he slaps his hands against Yuuri’s cheeks.

Read the rest here.

[sailormelanie]

Yuuri constantly fell for Victor and Victor fell for him. The morning after their wedding the sunlight shining through the blinds made Victor look absolutely angelic . When Victor had awoken with Yuuri in his arms and looked at him like he was the world Yuuri couldn’t help but shed a few tears . Victor wiped Yuuri’s tears and hugged him close . Makkachin runs in and jumps on the bed wagging his tail vigorously and licking Victor’s face . Victor laughs and Yuuri falls again all over again .

The light streaming in through the blinds of their apartment woke Yuuri up before his alarm could. He had a pounding headache, his ears ringing with imaginary bells and bass beats. Usually, waking up in this state meant that he had gotten blackout drunk once again, but this time, he had made a conscious effort to keep himself from being totally wasted so he could remember everything from the night of partying. After all, he had just gotten married to the love of his life.

He looked up at his fiance’s….his husband’s sleeping face. His heart squeezed itself just from remembering that fact. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms facing each other, their limbs entangled with each other loosely. Rather than focusing on his headache, he focused on etching the details of Victor’s face in his brain for the millionth time in his life. The delicate-looking skin. The strong jawline. The long silver lashes. When his eyes wandered to Victor’s lips, he couldn’t help himself. He reached his head up to lightly brush his own lips against the pink, soft lips of his lover.

At the touch, Victor stirred, his eyes slowly blinking open. At the sight of Yuuri drawing back from the kiss, his mouth slowly unfurled into a smile, the kind of gentle smile reserved only for Yuuri.

“Hm?” Yuuri hummed, half-sleepy, half-curious as to what was on his husband’s mind.

Victor sighed blissfully. “It’s the first time I get to wake up with my husband in my arms. It’s the best morning of my life.”

Maybe it was because Victor was so beautiful. Maybe it was because they had just gotten married. Or maybe it was just because he had had too much to drink last night, but in any case, Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from tearing up at Victor’s sweetness. How was it possible that he could wake up every morning and fall in love with this man just a little bit more every time? And now he would get to do so for the rest of his life. The thought was warm and overwhelming.

As he tried to still his own tears, he noticed a few tears stream down Victor’s cheeks as well. “Wait…why are you crying?” he asked, a little concerned.

Victor closed his eyes and almost whined. “Because my husband is so beautiful when he cries, even when he has the worst bedhead imaginable.”

Yuuri reached for one of his pillows and playfully hit Victor in the face with it, just hard enough to make his silver hair fluff out a bit more.

“There. We’re even,” Yuuri said, pretending to be serious.

Victor laughed and pulled Yuuri into his arms, rolling him around so he half-lay on top of him.

“I love you,” Victor whispered, using one of his fingers to wipe away some of Yuuri’s escaped tears.

All the noise they had been making had apparently woken Makkachin up. She crashed into the room, overly excited because of the previous evening’s exile from their room. Seeing Yuuri on top of Victor, she took note and pounced on top of both of them, half-crushing Yuuri on her way to Victor’s face so she could lick his cheeks enthusiastically.

“All right, all right, I love you both, I swear!” Victor said, laughing even harder.

Yuuri smiled so hard, his cheeks hurt. If this was the way he died, his heart crushing itself while he fell in love at the sight of his husband again and again, then he was just fine with that. He wouldn’t mind falling the rest of his life.

[robnjaxn]

Someone reblogged this old picture I posted that I didn’t do anything with, but I fell back in love with the idea, so I wrote an extremely self-indulgent ficlet about it.

The original post description:

“love the idea of yuuri having random anxiety problems and he knows he’s being irrational so he just tries to ride it out, and victor not really knowing how he can help and it feels like everything he says makes it worse so he just has to sit there and helplessly watch :/”

It’s post-canon, and about 2000 words.

This deals with anxiety. It’s not sad, per se, but its not happy either.

“Have you seen Yuuri?”

Mari, towels in arm, looked up at Victor. Her expression didn’t change, but she didn’t immediately answer either. Hasetsu patrons idled nearby, silent strangers uninterested in the drama of the owner’s family.

“No, I haven’t.” She finally said, looking down at the towels in her arms, adjusting them casually. “Maybe he went to the rink.” She offered. “Or to the studio.”

Victor didn’t think so.

“Where else could he be?” She asked. It wasn’t a pointed question; it wasn’t exactly rhetorical either.

Victor had been wondering the same thing — He’d been wondering it too often over the past couple of weeks with growing frequency. He’d just… lose track of Yuuri, who seemed to fade from the edge of the room while Victor wasn’t paying attention. disappear for a few hours at a time. Then Victor would find him in the halls, or back in their room, like he hadn’t left.

“Where were you?” Victor would ask upon randomly discovering him.

“Hm? Oh, no where. I got distracted.”

Yuuri was bad at lying, but Victor was worse at calling him out on it.

“If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him,” Victor said to Mari.

“Will do,” Mari muttered, turning, walking away. Her steps were worried.

—

Victor found himself meandering the narrow halls, unequipped to be searching because he was liable to get mildly lost. The architecture was still foreign to him. Most of the time he was traversing the halls, he was following Yuuri. And when he was following Yuuri, he wasn’t exactly taking inventory of the layout of the building.

Victor was now staring down a hall which he was pretty sure lead to bedrooms he wasn’t desirous to disturb. At the other end of the hall, the building opened to a slanting porch, drifting into the sloping hill, the snaking pathway. The day was overcast, drearily wet, the green of the foliage intense against the gray sky. He listened intently, then shuffled forward on bare hesitant feet. The old wood creaked delicately; Victor had grown sentimental of Hasetsu’s serious, tired character, had become resolutely unwilling to disturb its frame. Shuttered, featureless shoji doors passed on either side of him until he was standing at the lintel to the outside.

The smooth rumble of the cavernous atmosphere spilled in around him, the rustle of harried trees, of shaking grass; the faint drizzle of the falling sky was caught by the pulsing wind, thin moisture blew into the doorway, caught on Victor’s skin, beaded in his hair.

If Yuuri was taking a walk, it wasn’t quite the right weather to do it. Victor crossed his arms against the chilly breeze, took a step out onto the porch and looked on either side of him. The building looked pale, slick; criss-crossing beams and thin partitions. The wind picked up, tossing nearby windchimes, rattling the trees. Victor scurried back into the house before he got too wet.

The hall was quiet; the wind waited at the door, too polite to sneak past the threshold.

Victor took a step down the hall, away from the exterior, then he heard a snuffle.

He paused mid-step, turning his head towards where he thought the noise originated. A charged beat passed, long enough for Victor to start blaming the weather. Then there was another sound, like a breath that couldn’t be caught; someone breathing in twice, forgetting to breathe out. Victor was sure it was coming from the door to the right of him, which he was pretty sure was a broom closet.

Victor ghosted towards that door, silent despite the wood’s best efforts. For once, Victor was pleased that the thin walls concealed little noise; the sighing was clearly recognizable.

Victor slid the door open, shedding light into a small grimy room.

“Yuuri-” Victor started normally, then stopped. Yuuri was standing, hunched, in the middle of the closet, hands on his face, staring at Victor with red, wet eyes. His face was flushed, teary. “What- what’s-”

“Close the door,” Yuuri said, voice low but thick. “Please.”

Victor entered the small closet and closed the door behind him, casting them both in foggy shadow. Yuuri wiped at his face agitatedly, stepping away from Victor, turning towards the corner. The room looked like it hadn’t been touched in years; the broom leaned against the wall looked antique, the mop on the floor against the back wall was rotted stiff, the bucket next to it was dry and full of cobwebs and the air was thick and musty.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong-” Victor reached out to pull Yuuri into his arms; Yuuri shrunk away, pressing his fists to his eyes.

“Stop-” He choked. Victor retracted, went cold, took a step back. Yuuri was shaking, shoulders tense. He tried to breathe out, but kept hiccupping, ribs heaving under his shirt. With each failed breath, he seemed more flustered, more frenzied.“Shit-”

Then, abruptly, Yuuri got down onto the ground, curling on his side, crowding the floor around Victor’s feet and disturbing the carefully-placed broom; Victor caught it before it could fall and hit Yuuri.

“Yuuri, don’t; the floor is filthy,” Victor said, distressed, gingerly leaning the broom back against the wall. Yuuri rolled over onto his back, hands pressed over his face. The gold band flickered on his finger. Dust and grime was already clinging to his t-shirt and sweatpants, turned his dark hair ashy. Victor looked down at him, extremely uneasy at the sight. “What happened?”

Yuuri shushed him assertively, shaking his head, hands still clasped against his eyes. Victor hesitated; then ignored the state of the floor and maneuvered his way into a sitting position, legs crossed because of the scarcity of room, careful not to touch Yuuri, stinging at the needed distance between them. He sat like that for a quiet moment, wanting something to do, something to say, and finding nothing meaningful.

“Yuuri-” Victor said, searchingly.

“Be quiet.” Yuuri’s voice, though still quiet, was harsh, stern.

Victor had never seen this before. Not even in the height of pressure during the last season did Yuuri act like this. This… this was nonsense; Victor couldn’t think of anything that would cause this kind of clear meltdown. It was a lazy Tuesday afternoon, nothing scheduled for days, no clear source of discomfort.

Yuuri was breathing manually, measuredly. Another minute passed in silence with nothing happening. Victor felt like Yuuri was only tolerating him being there.

“Do you want me to leave?” Victor whispered. Yuuri didn’t respond, didn’t move from his position on the floor, didn’t hesitate in his deliberate inhale, deliberate exhale.

Victor started to get up, leaning back on his hands, trying to figure out the best way to get to his feet.

“Wait,” Yuuri gasped, fingers curling against his face. “Don’t- Don’t leave me-” Victor eased back into his seated position. Yuuri breathed out. “Just- stay with me. Quietly. Please.”

“Okay.” Victor rested his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to comfort the way that came naturally to him, through touch, physical reassurance.

“Sorry- I’m a mess-” Yuuri’s voice broke; Victor couldn’t tell if it was a sob or a laugh. Maybe it was both.

“It’s okay,” Victor reassured, cooing; afraid to say more. Yuuri rolled back onto his side, curling towards Victor, but still not touching him. He dragged his hands off his face and tucked them under the side of his head, eyes adamantly closed. His cheeks were newly wet. Victor stayed warily where he was.

Slowly, Yuuri nuzzled forward, pressing his forehead to Victor’s knee. Victor assessed Yuuri’s profile; his nose was rosy, running slightly, the skin below his eyes was an irritated, blotchy red, his eyelashes fluttered on his cheekbones, breath passed through parted lips. Victor took a risk and brushed his fingers across Yuuri’s jawline. Yuuri didn’t seem to mind it.

“Sorry…” Yuuri repeated quietly, distractedly. Victor brushed his jawline again, then timidly smoothed his hair.

“It’s okay,” Victor repeated back, continuing his light touching. Yuuri’s hand rested on Victor’s leg, fingers idly scratching at Victor’s Adidas joggers. Then he was shaking again, like he’d resurfaced from a lulling obscurity, pressing his forehead harder against Victor’s knee.

“I didn’t want you to know about this,” Yuuri breathed, hand gripping Victor’s ankle. Victor stared at the ring on Yuuri’s finger, shook his head.

“I- I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Victor whispered. “So sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize.” Yuuri sighed. He lifted his upper body into Victor’s lap, wrapping his arms around Victor’s waist. Victor cradled Yuuri, hand caressing between Yuuri’s shoulder blades, the other brushing the hair off his forehead. Dirt fell off Yuuri’s clothes, dusted off his hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Victor wanted to pick him up, hold him close against his chest, and run, far and fast. He knew it couldn’t be as simple as leaving this dusty chasm, but the walls were tilting inward, the ceiling was lifting upward, and it felt like they were in danger of being trapped in a topless vacuum. He wiped the tears off Yuuri’s cheeks, realized his own hands had become unsteady. He exhaled, steeled himself against that, scolding himself for his own momentary breach of composure.

Yuuri opened his eyes, looked up at Victor with a sullen expression. He shifted upward so he was sitting on Victor’s lap, putting his arms over Victor’s shoulders. Victor held him, hands now firmly on Yuuri’s waist.

“Please... don’t- tell anyone,” Yuuri said, sobered.

“What do you mean,” Victor asked lightly. Yuuri hid his face in Victor’s shoulder.

“Don’t tell my family.”

“They don’t know?” Victor ran his thumb across Yuuri’s temple, wanting to see his expression, but unable to. Yuuri sighed, hands gripping the fabric on Victor’s back.

“They… know. But- not- the more recent… I just don’t want them to worry about it, you know.” Yuuri was trying to sound controlled, voice even; he was mostly succeeding. “Everyone’s happy right now, I don’t want to ruin it. I can deal with this on my own.”

“Yuuri, I don’t think-”

“Please.” Yuuri was still hiding his face. “Promise you won’t tell them.”

Victor combed his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, thoughts scattered as he tried to make sense of the turn of events. He didn’t want Yuuri to deal with this on his own. He didn’t think that was an acceptable solution. He was also unsure whether he could totally help Yuuri on his own; for one, this didn’t seem like something that could be fixed with sheer determination and spunk. And two, he already felt like he’d failed. He felt like it wasn’t his place to be making demands of Yuuri. 

Right now he wanted to stabilize this shaking person in his arms, to get him out of this dark, dirty room and into some clean clothes.

Victor cradled the back of Yuuri’s head, pressed soft lips to Yuuri’s temple. For a moment, he just clung to him, eyes closed, breathing deep. Then he gently guided Yuuri so he could see him, taking Yuuri’s arms from around his shoulder and taking Yuuri’s hands in his.

“Hey,” Victor murmured low. Yuuri was looking down, avoiding Victor’s eye. “Hey, look at me.” Yuuri looked up, unsure. “I won’t tell them. I promise.” Victor lifted Yuuri’s hand to his lips, kissed his ring, keeping eye contact the entire time. Yuuri gripped Victor’s hands harder. “But we’ve got to get out of this room and get cleaned up, okay?”

Yuuri hesitated, eyes darkening, visibly taking inventory of himself. His face was still mottled red, clothes a wrinkly, dirty mess, hair in something of a dusty tangle. Yuuri sagged a little, sleepy eyes blinking hard. Victor stopped his train of thought before it could crash.

“We just have to get back to our room and change our clothes,” Victor said. “And then we can lie in bed for the rest of the day, if you want. Maybe take a nap.”

Yuuri took a breath and nodded, a quick, subtle duck of his head, but didn’t move otherwise.

“Okay,” Victor continued. “I’ll get up when you do.”

Yuuri nodded again, but then curled forward into Victor’s chest, pressing his forehead against his clavicle. Victor wrapped his arms around him, suppressing a sigh.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said again, listless.

“It’s okay.”

[dziabara]

Idea: We have nice spring this winter.

***

This morning was practically perfect. Victor, as befits a perfect fiancé, entered into the bedroom with two cups of freshly brewed coffee, walked on tiptoe to the king's bed, leaned over the slowly (very slowly) waking fiancé and warmly kissed him on the forehead, while giving the man the assignment portion of hot drink. Then he carefully stepped back, giving Yuuri the time to make contact with reality, returned to the window, and standing next to him, he began to look at St. Petersburg, covered in a dim, gray half-shade. Victor looked so proud of himself, as if some sort of cliché-like sentence circulated around his head, like I’m the happiest man in the world, since I can wake up such a sweet beauty every day or I was born to be coffee waiter.

"We have nice spring this winter," Victor said unexpectedly, and with a smile so wide that he could embarrass sun, still quite weak at this hour, he took a small sip of coffee.

Yuuri's hand stopped halfway to the cup that was left on the bedside table. That’s right. Practically perfect.

“Wait, what?” he asked.

"Well, spring," Victor repeated, nodding his head towards the admired view. “It's extremely warm and peaceful. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if the primroses started to bloom right away. Makkachin loves them. Whenever he finds one, he digs it with his nose, as if he wants to help it grow…”

Yes, this morning was practically perfect. Practically. Because in fact Yuuri threw a quilt over his shoulders, got out of bed, approached his fiancé and touched the window with his finger.

“Victor. I know that you have a really wide definition of the seasons,” he admitted, then tapped the glass, pointing to some snowdrifts lying under their apartment “but it’s minus ten degrees, snow like on Antarctida, and the only thing that grows is illegal trade of woolen scarves!”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13358958/chapters/31844421

[billsfangearring]

Monthly Fandom Faves: January 2023 (HP Edition)

I miss reccing and want to get back into it this year, but without the pressure I put on myself when I adhere to specific themes or categories. I'm going to experiment with unthemed recs of a few things I loved each month instead as a way to keep this lowkey and fun for myself. I'll do separate posts for each fandom so they're more useful for the rest of you. I've got Wolfstar and Jily fics for you in this first one for HP :)

Fics reviewed below the cut, from longest to shortest:

Bird Set Free by @mollymarymarie

but tonight your hand is steady by @broomsticks

Posting this early because (1) my cat's first adoption anniversary is Tuesday and she deserves my full attention and (2) I have no chill.

Bird Set Free by MollyMaryMarie

(Remus/Sirius, E, 68k and counting)

Remus Lupin is a Welsh figure skater who hasn't quite been able to find his rhythm. Until world renowned Russian figure skater (and Remus' celebrity crush) Sirius Black shows up to coach him.

Imagine Yuri! On Ice, make it Wolfstar, and take away any need to appease television censors. That is this fic. (No previous YOI knowledge required.) Our resident queen of sexual tension has done it again. Maybe I'm biased because I had the honor to serve as Molly's technical beta for the figure skating specifics, but this fic is a romp from start to finish. Prepare yourself for some secondhand embarrassment, a need to scream at Remus Lupin for his obliviousness, and an overwhelming urge to give poor Sirius a hug when he's just out here trying his best to win over his crush. Pete is all of us with his complete exasperation with these two, and his snarky commentary is honestly my favorite part of the fic.

Pete held his hands up in surrender. “That’s the last I’ll say about it.” “Thank you,” Remus exhaled heavily. “Unless you need to gush about how hot he is.” “Oh, I absolutely will need to do that.” “But I will definitely not mention if he gushes about how hot you are.” “Well, he won’t, but if he does, then, okay, I mean, you should tell me about that.” Pete blinked at him. “There are a lot of rules here.”

but tonight your hand is steady by leftsidedown

(Lily Evans character study, T, 2k, implied major character death)

Five times Lily walked away and one time she stayed. Canon compliant.

Jackie wrote this way back in October and gifted it to me, and I only just left a real comment on it this month because I'm the worst. It made me so happy to revisit it again though, because it's a melancholy, nuanced portrayal of Lily and her experience coming of age as a Muggleborn—of being of two worlds but belonging in neither. Jackie has a gift for saying a lot with very few words, and this story exemplifies that. Each cleverly chosen vignette is a bruising portrait of the character I've sought out in fanfiction from the very beginning—more than 15 years ago—and it's such an honor that she thought of me when writing this little beauty for MCD fest.

She should have turned around to give them one last wave. Had they known that she hadn’t wanted to leave them behind—any of them? She just hadn’t known how to bring them along.

Thank you, darling! <3

--

All of my HP fic recs (detailed and brief) can be found here. I hope you find something you like!

[thegayfigureskatingagenda]

Did My Heart Love 'Till Now Chapter 2

Too hot for empty changing rooms

Summary:

“Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice murmured like a rivulet in a moonlit night but with an evil subtone. His lips brushed Yuuri’s, sending warm shivers through Yuuri’s body as thousands of synapses reacted to the touch. “I’ve taught you every trick I know and yet you still struggle with this jump. If my coaching fails, I must devise stricter measures.” At the All-Japan Figure Skating Championships, Yuuri tries to make good on his promise and give Viktor something round and golden for his birthday.

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Excerpt below the read more tag. My beta had a lot to say about Yuuri getting intense when he skates.

Cover illustration done by the talented @cosmiclion

Excerpt:

Had someone told Yuuri that one day he would look forward to skating at a domestic competition, he would have felt mocked. One year ago, such an event had turned into his greatest humiliation. This year, he had almost withdrawn. He owed it to his mental weakness that he had postponed sending the e-mails he had drafted to the Japan Skating Federation and the ISO after the Grand Prix Final. Now, as he inhaled the atmosphere of the Makomanai Sekisui Heim Ice Arena, the dread from last year was the vague memory of a bad dream and his body was singing with a sense of homecoming.

I’m glad I’ve decided against retirement. Those first few months of the season have only been a foretaste of what’s ahead.

Yuuri took the ice to the cheers of the audience. He smiled and waved at the blurred faces in the stands, then dashed across the criss-cross pattern of tales the skaters before him had carved, hopping, spinning, and jumping. The cheers amplified as he jumped a triple Axel. I feel so alive…

He was so lost in warming up that he almost missed the announcer. “The scores please.”

Yuuri glided back to the barrier where Viktor waited. At once, two nearby cameras panned at him. His coach and fiancé was wearing the dashing brown coat that emphasised his broad shoulders, which Yuuri loved to map reverently with his fingers. As their gazes met, Yuuri’s heart leapt. He tugged a tissue out of Plush Makkachin who sat on the barrier in front of Viktor and wiped his nose.

“Kenjiro Minami-senshu has earned for the short programme 74.19 points. He is currently in fourth place.”

A new season’s best! Yuuri gave the young skater in the kiss and cry a thumbs-up. Well done, Minami-kun!

Minami beamed. His bleached hair with the red-dyed bangs whipped as he jumped off his seat, the rhinestones on his Lohengrin costume that was an exact replica of the one Yuuri had once worn glittering like rainbows.

“GOOD LUCK, YUURI-KUN!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor murmured as their hands clasped. He kissed the ring on Yuuri’s finger that encapsulated the multiple facets of their love, unfazed by the cameras and the murmurs of the crowd. The news that their engagement rings were partner omamori had been the talk of the month in Japan since the Grand Prix Final. This audience understood the significance of Viktor touching this ring like no other in the world. It filled Yuuri with wild joy. “Seduce me to drag you into an empty changing room and devour you.”

That was the most inappropriate goal any couch could want from their athlete. But his pep talk roused a primal desire for his strict coach to discipline him. What would it be like to make Viktor lose his mind?

“Watch me and don’t blink even once!” he hissed.

Not waiting for Viktor’s response, he pushed himself off the boards to the cheers of the ecstatic crowd.

[triptychgrip]

New fic: Yuuri vs. Yuri on Hot Ones Versus 🔥🔥🔥

Yura loudly exhaled then sat up straight. 

“Ok, so back in February 2017, there was a local hockey team that began renting the ice for the slot right after this geezer would “coach” his then-fiance,” he began, jerking his head in Viktor’s direction and making a big show of his air quotes. “Notice I used air quotes because 90 percent of the time he was flirting and hanging all over him and it was the most loose definition of coaching possible.”

Kenjirou gave a hysterical sort of giggle and then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. Feeling slightly defensive of his husband, Yuuri didn’t even have to think much about the words that left his lips.

“Vitya’s unorthodox methods worked, though, didn’t they?” he chimed in, not bothering to tone down his smugness. “Remind me, Yura: who was the gold medalist at the 2017 World Figure Skating Championships, again?”

Viktor and Aasha barked delighted-sounding laughs and out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Mila whip her phone out. Presumably, to capture the flush that had begun to stain his opponent’s cheeks.

“Yeah, well…anyway,” Yura resumed in a grumble, doing a pretty poor job of masking his flusteredness. “Most of the players– ”

“It was Yuuri-senpai! Yuuri-senpai was the 2017 World’s title holder!” Kenjirou interrupted in a shout, very unnecessarily. 

Yuuri bit his lip to suppress the mirth bubbling up within him and made a concerted effort not to look over at Viktor.

“As I was saying!” the Ice Tiger huffed, shooting him a nasty look, as if he could read his mind. “Most of the players kept to themselves, and other than some very questionable tastes in cologne that we were subjected to in the break room and locker room, they were fine to be around. But then there was the team captain, Sergei…who just straight up sucked.”

Yuuri decided to adopt a neutral expression.

While he hadn’t been the biggest fan of Sergei, he’d also never known what to make of his love’s opinion that the man had had a crush on him. It was true that Sergei had sought him out for conversation more than a lot of Yubileyny’s other skaters, but he’d chalked this up to the fact that at that point, he had still been extremely new to Russia in general, and had probably seemed starved for friendly faces. 

And, if Madame Baranovskaya had shot laser beams out of her eyes whenever she was in Sergei’s general vicinity, Yuuri had suspected this was due to her distaste for hockey, and not anything to do with a sense of protectiveness over him.

“There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to explain all the assorted means of suckage, but it was sometime in May that I snapped,” Yura continued on, looking impressively impassive. “Sergei had the most douchey hairstyle by the way…this platinum blonde, dyed sort of swoopy-thing that was his entire personality, to the point he never stopped talking about it.”

---

The above excerpt is from my newly uploaded fic (which I teased in this post), detailing Yuuri and Yurio facing off against one another on Hot Ones Versus. Taking place during the 2021 off-season, the two of them are currently the top two seeded skaters in the world, and their rivalry is heightened by the fact that they are both Viktor's students.

Just like my Vanity Fair Lie Detector fic, I had such a blast writing this, and am really excited to work on the final chapter, which will be from Yurio and Viktor's points of view. (Mila and Kenjirou also have large roles in this story, as they have tagged along for the episode filming for moral support, LOL).

If you read this WIP and enjoy it, PLEASE tell me what you think; I love receiving comments!

🔥 You can read Chapter 1, here 🔥

Oh, and as I mention in the pre-notes, this story marks my 20th Yuri!!! on Ice fic. Maybe it's about time I made a pinned post, lol...

[life-love-and-alcohol]

Did somebody say FLUFF??

No, no one did. I have no friends.

But I wrote anyways so here u have it. 

To say Yuuri was tired wouldn't have been the proper chose of words.

 No, it wasn't enough, it needed more force, more emphasis...Exhausted? Maybe, it sounded better. But it was still incomplete. It still lacked a certain something, a certain feeling of fatigue, and maybe a few more kilos on his heavy lids...

 Yuuri felt like dying.

 Yes, that was the term he was looking for. Yuuri was dying.

 He had never worked so hard in his entire life. Never had woken up at six, only to squeeze himself into his skating clothes and gulp down his breakfast in unhealthy speeds, and going jogging with his stomach still full for an hour to warm up his muscles. He had to make sure he was standing at the edge of the ice rink before the clock hit eight. Viktor didn't like it when he got to the rink and Yuuri wasn't already there, with his skates on, waiting for him.

 "Back when I was a competitive skater..." he always said, as if he hadn't retired just some months ago "...by the time you wake up in the mornings, I was already practicing quadruples and..."

 The funny thing was that he spoke as if they hadn't been married for years, and as if Yuuri hadn't witnessed that all the stuff he said, wasn't exactly true.

 He actually missed those days when they were both still in competition. It had been barely last season, and yet it felt like an eternity of time, a way too distant feeling of warmness he could only invoke in memories.

 As a coach, Viktor wasn't nearly as fun than as a rink mate. He might have been goofy and fun, but he was actually really demanding too. He was just as obsessed with the idea of gold as Yuuri was, and he wouldn't rest until he saw his husband on the top of the podium.

 Only that, from the podium, his poor husband fell directly onto bed; trying to ingratiate with his own wretched body until his head stopped spinning and his muscles ceased burning.

 After every competition, Yuuri felt drained. He wasn't as young as he used to be. Time added candles to his birthday cakes and new noises and aches to his joints as he stretched. And he knew that, in the term of one year or two, he would be just where Viktor was right then: from the other side of the rink's railing, standing on solid ground.

 That's why he pushed himself past his limits, too. That's why he let Viktor squeeze more and more training into his crowded schedule, force him into a strict diet, and cut out his hours of sleep. That’s why he didn’t mind when he felt like dying.

 Those may have been the last years at the sport, his sport. Their sport. And he wanted to seize them to the fullest.

 However, that didn't change he was shattered.

 And it wasn't only training what tired Yuuri out, no, it was way more than that. If there was one thing that managed to drain every drop of remaining energy from him after a long day, was dealing with paparazzi.

 Don't get him wrong, he was always very kind and answered all the questions about his routines with no complaints. There were a bunch of gossip magazines that liked to ask him on his relationship with Viktor as well, but he had also (somehow) got used to those too.

 But sometimes, what he saw as he left the rink after a competition, weren't reporters but a damn horde.

 Being an introvert person, he wasn't comfortable with being in the center of a camera circle, squished between hurried legs and bumping shoulders, with a thousand microphones pointing at his face.

 He usually managed to slide away in the shadows, escape the multitude before someone recognized him and pushed him into an unwanted interrogation. But there were other days where the crowd would suck him in like the sea's current and there were no more vital signs from Yuuri Katsuki for hours but the televised picture of his exhausted face.

 That day had been one of those days.

 The worst part was that, instead of answering the usual questions about his routines and his passion, he had been forced to talk about something rather intimate instead. And no, it didn't have to do with Viktor, at all. It had to do with himself:

 His retirement.

 Reporters didn't seem to mind pressing a finger on the sore. And, by the end of the day, Yuuri's brain was suffering short-circuit.

 When he finally managed to run away from the microphones and his own insecurities, he hopped onto the rented car where Yurio, Yakov and Viktor were already waiting for him to get back to the hotel. How Yurio had got away from the mob before him, he had no idea. He didn't care, either.

 Right then, with the lulling sway of the car's engine and the heat and perfume emanating from his husband right next to him, all he cared about, was resting.

 "Tough day, huh?" Viktor chuckled, as he saw him rest his head on his shoulder.

 Yuuri barely hummed in agreement, feeling his lids already getting sticky with slumber, and the noise of the street beginning to fade away.

 "Is he asleep? Already??" Yurio tried to get a peek of his face, but it was hard to see when it was buried so deeply onto the other's coat. The way his shoulders were slowly raising and dropping though, together with the light snoring, were more than enough evidence "Pathetic"

 Vikotr shushed him, wanting to keep Yuuri from waking up, since he felt fairly responsible for his exhaustion. He shifted his body kindly, with the delicacy and tactfulness he had only ever cared to show on the ice, wanting to make sure his husband was comfortable and that nothing interrupted his sleep.

 "Lower your voice, Yura" he said, tracing his fingers through dark, gelled hair "the trip is quite long, and he needs some rest"

 "Ugh, can't you wait till we get to the hotel to be loving and disgusting?" Yurio added, turning to look through the window and away from the cuddling couple.

 However, as he was about to allow his mind to get lost in the view, he heard quite an odd noise coming from behind his back.

 "What's that?" he asked, perking his ears to catch the babbling slipping through Yuuri's dozed lips.

 "Oh, he sometimes talks in his sleep" Viktor chuckled softly, the vibration of his laughter causing his sleeping beauty to move a little as he continued with his mumbling "Poor thing" he said, tucking a lock of hair away from his itching nose "he only does that when he's really exhausted"

 "What is he saying, anyways?"

 Both of them made silence, attention fully set on the senseless mouthing.

 "Hmm...no...I don't....I don't know, miss"

 "Oh, he's talking in English" Viktor said, surprised "most times he just mumbles Japanese"

 "But what is he talking about?" Yurio insisted, getting nearer.

 "Please no...I won't...answer that, miss"

 "He's dreaming about the reporters, whoa, he surely is stressed" His husband debated if he should maybe wake him up, since he didn't deserve to be troubled even in his sleep. But then he realized that would have been even worst, and decided to try another strategy instead. Slowly, he leaned in and warmly whispered into his ear: "Yuuri??"

 "What are you doing?" Yurio stared, rolling his eyes at the sweet affection on the other's voice "Didn't you say you would let him sleep?"

 However, Viktor ignored him.

 "Yuuri, calm down, it's ok" He murmured gently, watching the small, confused frown forming between his brows "Can you hear me, Yuuri?"

 "I hear you, miss....but I can't answer that question...please don't..."

 "No, Yuuri" Viktor giggled, trying to muffle the noise. Even Yurio laughed a bit, staring in disbelief "I'm no miss, it's me"

 "You...who?"

 "Santa Claus" Yurio replied mischievously, and Viktor pushed him away, not missing the way Yuuri sulked uncomfortably.

 "What...hmm...why does Santa..."

 "I'm not Santa, babe. It's me, Viktor"

 "Vitya?"

 His heart went from beating solid to boiling liquid in about two seconds.

 "Yes, love. I'm here"

 "Oh...thank god"

 Viktor chortled, caressing his face with his knuckles, noticing how his expression began to relax.

 Yurio kept silent this time, pretending disinterest, as he stared with the corner of his eye.

 "Did they ask too many questions? Where they torturing you, love?" what started with sincere, kind intentions, turned into a laughing matter as Viktor tried to get advantage of  his drowsy vulnerability "Tell me, Yuuri, what happened"

 The poor guy nodded in his sleep, and his husband had to bite his lip as not to squeal from the adorableness.

 "They asked...many questions...I..." He mumbled, shifting a bit "...they were rude"

 "I bet they were"

 "Hm...but you are here..."

 "Of course I am" Viktor fooled around, enjoying the whole situation much more than he really should "I needed to save you from the press, after all"

 "Ah...thank you" Yuuri smiled, sinking further onto his hold "hmm...I love you"

 And that, ladies and gentleman, is how Viktor Nikiforov broke.

 "AIIISHH I LOVE YOU TOO" He screamed, taking his husband's face between his hands and kissing him everywhere. Mouth, nose, cheeks, forehead...no place was safe from the assault "YOU ARE SO CUTE OH MY GOD"

 "Uh?" Confused, Yuuri woke up. He blinked clumsily, batting his heavy lids, and trying to understand where he was and what was the fuss all about "What?"

 "You woke him up, you fucking idiot!" Yurio complaint, pointing at the puzzled ball of slumber.

 "Why is he...?" Talking and breathing were both difficult with the attack of eager kisses cutting him off "What happened?"

 “Aww, Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed, rubbing their cheeks together affectionately "You just said you loved me in your sleep!"

 "Hmn...don't I say it enough while I'm awake?"

 "You two are repulsive" Yurio bickered, turning back to stare at the window again "Ugh, don't even talk to me"

 "Hmm, Vitya?" Yuuri yawned "what time is it?"

 "It doesn't matter" he answered, kissing the top of his head and hugging him against his chest again "go back to sleep, love. I'll wake you up once we get to the hotel"

 "Oh...ok" he mumbled, resting his head on the other's shoulder, and taking in a big breath "Thank you"

 "You are welcome" Viktor smiled, cuddling against his sleepy husband "I love you, too"

 Yes, Yuuri was tired, Yuuri was exhausted, and Yuuri felt like dying.

 But Yuuri was also in love, both with the sport and with the man who had pushed him through it. And when Yuuri was in love, just like on the ice, he was unstoppable.

[dumforyoungroyals]

Hi! You can find me as "MysticDodo" on A03, where I currently have a variety of fanfiction posted, including Puzzleshipping, Malec, Viktuuri and Wilmon.

I've been writing fanfiction on and off for a good 17 years (and I feel so old, saying that!).

My current WIPs are mostly Young Royals fanfics, though I also have a YOI modern Dirty Dancing AU as well.

Status of the fanfics as of September 2022:

Yuri On Ice;

Dance With Me; my modern AU Dirty Dancing remake. It has some major differences from the original 1987 movie (such as no abortion plotline, and less focus on class differences) but focuses more on mental health. Our sweet Yuuri has canonical anxiety, and I headcanon some form of eating disorder, whereas Viktor seems to experience symptoms of depression. I've always adored Dirty Dancing and have wanted to do a YOI DD merging for ages. I currently have around 40k written for it, but it has taken a back burn since I was kidnapped by Young Royals...

Young Royals;

as if it were yesterday - is my main WIP. The day that Erik dies, Simon becomes stuck in a 48 hour time loop.

I have a majority written for the next chapter, as well as later scenes, but it's slow going. It's not abandoned and will be updated as soon as the last part of chapter 4 stops being a pain in my backside... The feedback for this project blows me away and I'm so thankful for all of the comments, kudos and bookmarks! Looking forward to seeing the cries of shock that a later chapter will cause, hehehe!

I also have four currently unnamed Wilmon fics I'm writing. Two are explicit (and definitely weren't supposed to turn into multichapter stories but...) while the third and forth has no smut but a a large dose of hurt/comfort.

Smut 1: about 40% complete

- Third year AU where Wilhelm and Simon decide to become friends with benefits.

Smut 2: about 30% complete

- a season 2 story where our boys find it hard to stay away from each other. (Slightly inspired by the delicious Eyeliner by Mulberrybush97, as well as my weakness for Omar in eyeliner....)

Hurt/Comfort 1: about 75% complete.

- an end of season 1 and beginning of season 2 snapshot into physical affection.

Hurt/Comfort 2: about 50% complete

- a season 2 story about opening up to the ones you love, but also to yourself.

[daily-yoificrec]

6/29/17 recs

1. This Curious Condition Called Love by xtwilightzx (blackidyll) || Rated T, 16.8k

The bite of pancake is delightfully buttery, with a tang from the cheese curds. Yuuri isn't sure what his expression is like, but Victor's smile brightens, and his phone goes up.

"Say syrniki!"

That photo's going to end up on Instagram in less than a minute. Yuuri ducks, and when Victor whips his phone to follow, Yuuri grabs Victor's elbow and drags him over so they're both caught in the shot. Victor laughs, a long line of warmth mashed up against Yuuri's side. He tucks his arm around Yuuri's waist and raises his phone again.

Victor uses variations of the same caption every time: Reexploring St. Petersburg with #katsukiyuuri #oneplateatatime

"You're ridiculous," Yuuri whispers, after the camera goes off.

Victor smiles. "Ridiculous, but yours."

(Yuuri has done the transcontinental uprooting of his life twice before and it's never easy, but this time there are photos plastered all over Victor's social media, explorations into Russian cuisine, shenanigans with the Russian figure skating national team, calls and messages from friends and family, and Victor, always.

Victor, on the other hand, mostly copes by watching Yuuri adapt to life in St. Petersburg).

My favorite fic to come out of the yoi reverse bang so far, it’s so cute!!! And soft. Sickeningly cute. The author did really well in piecing a story from the artist’s pictures, and it’s just one of those things that had me rolling around in bed at 3am bc of the sheer amount of fluff in it. It also explores the phenomenon of reverse culture shock, and is overall just a really great read. 10/10 def recommend. 

2. That's What They Say (When We're Together) by Lightningcatters (Phoeliac) || Rated T, 2.2k 

In the wake of her divorce from Yakov, Lilia ran off to Japan and became Yuuri's coach alongside Minako. She returns to Russia with a challenge for Yakov, who's become increasingly concerned about Victor's lack of motivation.

Victor and Yuuri ruin everybody's plans by falling in love instead of becoming rivals.

An interesting AU. I love kinkmeme fills, they tend to be really interesting. It’s off to a really good start, but listed as a oneshot in the Author’s Notes, so I can only hope. In the meantime though, it has a wonderful setup to enjoy, and Yakov’s narration feels spot-on and hilarious.

[browngurl99]

RANT

(Note : M/M = Male x Male | M/F = Male x Female | F/F = Female x Female | wlw = women loving women | mlm = men loving men)

Is it just me? Or Anime fandoms just.... avoid wlw ships?

Like, there are so many M/M and M/F ships in an anime fandom. But F/F ships? You rarely find any

When you look for fanfictions, you will find many M/M & M/F ship ffs even when the male characters aren't well written or have less screentime

Anime fandoms just ignore that wlw ships exists like, like when you go to search for fanfictions, the amount of fanfictions for these ships, where the ship is the main pairing will be very less as compared to other ships

---

Take AOT/SNK for an example

Why are there so many main works of RiRen, a ship with such a huge age gap and hardly any chemistry but not many of the cannon ship, YmiHisu ?

Don't tell me about Mikannie. I feel the same way about it as Ereannie - IT HARDLY MAKES ANY SENSE

---

'Kiss him not me'

"OMG! MUTSUMI SENPAI IS THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVED SERINUMA BEFORE SHE BECAME SKINNY" but no one notices that Shima also fell in love with Kae before that. And when Kae gained weight again, Shima supported her while Mutsumi didn't had any opinion on it. Also, Mutsumi was just friendly to Kae. He started having romantic feelings for Kae after the beach episode.

Also, if y'all be like "But Mutsumi was the only one who recognized her after weight loss" then,.... WHY do I see more Nanashima x Kae shippers than Shima x Kae shippers ?

---

Now, look at Kiyoyachi. Yachi had such gay panic when she saw Kiyoko for the first time. And she is usually found blushing or getting nervous around Kiyoko. Also Kiyoko acts differently with others than she acts with Yachi. In my opinion they have the best chemistry among all Haikyuu ships bcoz Neither Kiyoko nor Yachi shows any interest in other characters.

Why is it that "Obviously *insert any Karasuno first year name here* x Yachi is canon!"

Why Yachi's most obvious crush on Kiyoko is ignored by fandom but there are tons of fanfics of two male characters who just had one proper interaction ?

If the same thing happened in case of an mlm ship in HQ the whole fandom would've gone crazy over it.

Now don't say "KiyoTana is canon!" No one saw it coming. It was such a surprise for the fans.

If any of the HQ boy who is heavily shipped with another HQ boy, would've ended up with a female character. The whole fandom would've been SO MAD

---

What I'm trying to say is : Ship whatever you want but don't ignore wlw ships.

I know y'all love mlm stuff. I'm myself fond of some mlm anime (YOI, Doukyuusei, etc) AND I also have many mlm ships.

But wlw anime and wlw ships also needs some love.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk (What an original joke, Right ?)

Edit : The irony is that most of my posts are about mlm ships.... BUT I would try to make more posts about wlw ships. Also, I'm going to watch a bunch of wlw anime after my exams ends