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mckeitbeautiful‌:

He could feel his heartbeat quicken at the movement. With Potya so close, so comfortable against him, Yoosung could only melt upon hearing the sound escaping the taller male. It was nothing like what he could have prepared himself for. Having a girlfriend - in the sense that his parents had always talked about it - was nowhere near what he felt when pressed against his boyfriend. Even if they’d been encouraging when it come to finding someone else, they wouldn’t have been able to put that feeling into words. It was something he needed to experience for himself to truly understand.

The gamer nodded quickly and leaned into the other’s side with the playful pressure against his own. Everyone else could know – he preferred it if they did. “They will. We can make sure of it.” Letting everyone know that they were to keep their hands off his boyfriend? That would have been the highlight of the next twenty four hours. Possessiveness had already sunken in deep, even before they’d started their discussion; the fact that they were something official (and that they were going to be open about it) merely opened the floodgates that’d been holding it all back. 

Whether they like it or not… The words echoed in his head after hearing them fall from Potya’s lips. Yes, he still loved his parents, but there was something so attractive about having a significant other that wouldn’t let anyone’s guidelines keep them apart. He really had stumbled into some kind of romance movie with the designer; the best relationship he could have hoped to end up in. Yoosung gave yet another nod – not trusting himself to respond without sounding as though he’d flooded every word with the same cheesiness that went into writing movies of that type. It was difficult to not feel like those were the right words to say, however. The warm feeling spreading over him made it almost impossible. 

“Mne nravitsya tvoy brat…” he tested the words for himself despite not knowing what they meant. “Does that mean I’m never going to let you go, whether he likes it or not?” Features lit up and purple eyes sparkled at his use of Potya’s own words. It was all he could do to keep from giggling out of the nervous, bubbly feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Fingertips pushed into the older male’s hair, running through soft strands a few times only to settle against Plisetsky’s shoulders. “Cute is gwiyeobda,” the shorter began, leaning in to press kisses against Potya’s bottom lip. “And you won’t ever need permission… geunyang kiseu haejwo.” His smile widened. “Just kiss me.”

Yoosung’s warmth pushing in closer still didn’t feel like enough ( it probably never would ). His hand running along Yoosung’s back, Potya shifted it instead to rest atop the blond’s heart. Beneath his palm, he could feel the rhythmic drumming inside Yoosung’s chest, and his own syncing with it. There was an inherently calming sensation in the motion, one which proved itself to be both reassuring and exciting both at once. Yet again, where Yoosung was concerned, even the slightest of gestures carried a weight with it that felt insurmountable. Did Yoosung sense it, too? He was far too self-conscious to ask, for once nervous to hear the answer. Closing his eyes, Potya’s long lashes brushes against Yoosung’s skin, he ordained that it didn’t matter for the moment; he would simply enjoy it.

“Hm — I like the sound of that.” Regardless of the fact that he doubted anyone on campus was unaware of their attachment, it was sweet that Yoosung wanted to ensure they knew. “Maybe you should wear my hoodie, too, whenever yours is in the wash.” It was far more trendy than the plain one Yoosung usually threw on, even if it was more fashionable now due to the application of the patterns he had designed, and it would be be nice to receive it back with the scent of his boyfriend still clinging to it. “You’d look so cute.I can picture it in my head already.” The corners of Potya’s mouth rose. “Dunno if I could wear anything of yours. It’s probably all too small, yeah?” Perhaps he could fit into one of Yoosung’s longer shirts, although it would likely leave little to the imagination. Suitable for a club, maybe, yet not terribly comfortable for a class during the day. 

Such thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Yoosung repeating his words back to him, coaxing his eyes open. The expression of absolute pleasure upon Yoosung’s countenance, even apparent in the other boy’s eyes, caused Potya’s heart to stutter. “Not exactly. If you wanted to say that, it’d be more like, Ya ne otpushchu yego, nesmotrya ni na chto.” Leaning into Yoosung’s soft touch in his hair, he couldn’t have stopped the flush reemerging on his skin, even if he tried. Why did everything with Yoosung feel so intimate? He could have the dirtiest sex possible, and never blush once. It was nothing like this. Was Potya losing his mind? He wouldn’t argue if someone suggested it, although he didn’t quite care.

After a moment of pursing his lips, he replicated the phrase Yoosung taught him. “Gwiyeobda.” For emphasis, Potya tapped the tip of his index finger to Yoosung’s nose. “Ya sobirayus' potselovat' tebya.” I’m gonna kiss you. His fingers then moved to run his thumb along Yoosung’s bottom lip before he captured it with his teeth; he only tugged on it lightly before they were kissing again, and he was straddling Yoosung’s hips in any attempt to meld the two of them together as completely as he was allowed to. Hands sliding into Yoosung’s hair, he breathed, “Ya mog by tselovat' tebya vechno i nikogda ne ostanavlivat'sya. I could kiss you forever and never stop.”

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mckeitbeautiful‌:

A smile curled his lips as Potya caught his attention, and he nodded. “All from one try~” the smaller all but bragged. “I was real careful! Only backyards and alleys the whole way here.” After leaving the parking lot, of course. He couldn’t promise that no one had seen him, but it was easy to say that no one had followed him back. He’d had far too many close calls in the past to want to go through it again — especially on his own. 

If he’d known that Potya was somewhere nearby, either at home or hidden behind some corner along the way, that would allow him to save the smaller boy from trouble… things might have been different. Being alone in the task, and not knowing whether or not his brother was already at home or available to cross paths with, meant having to up his care level over the whole thing. After all, Juuzou wasn’t nearly as talented when it came to talking his way out of something or thinking on his feet. 

That was really more the other boy’s area of expertise (like the rest of it, really.) While the red-eyed teen had the means to survive, he would have gotten nowhere, had he not formed some kind of bond with the one currently going over the important details of the day’s find. Suzuya quickly reached forward to empty the change purse before looking toward the stitching being pointed out to him. It didn’t matter to him where they went or what they ate - as long as they didn’t have to spend the night without.

“But – What does the quality have to do with anything?” he asked absently, toying with the change that’d fallen from the newly fallen pouch. “You know anyone that would wanna buy a stolen purse?” It didn’t seem like anything of importance to him. Cell phones, wallets, watches, things that were used a lot but were less likely to be seen as much. Those were the items that he figured sold better than something people saw on a regular basis. If they were going to try to pawn it somewhere, they might have to go a little farther out.

“Might wanna be careful,” he continued with a smile. “Mama knew her purse better than anything else in this place. Never know if that lady will recognize hers.” With it being of ‘good quality,’ he didn’t doubt it. Getting up to find an old phone book (pages torn and covered in dark stains from water and who knew what else,) the shorter sat back on the floor with his legs folded beneath himself to open the book to a random page; one finger settling down on an ad for Italian food. “This place looks good. Think they’d deliver something to eat it with too?” 

An amused grin appeared upon Potya’s countenance as Juuzou’s pride made itself evident. “’Course you did. You’re a smart kid.” Reaching out, he tugged lightly on the ends of Juuzou’s hair. Perhaps they weren’t brothers by blood, yet he felt just as pleased by Juuzou’s successes as though they were. It was tricky business, watching your back while securing what you needed, and Potya doubted that either of them would be doing half as well as they currently were if they were to attempt it alone. Together, they were as close to a perfect team as one might hope to find.

“We can go together next time, if you want.” The opportunity to cover more ground was presented when they split up, although it lent itself to further risk. While it was all well and good to gather as much as they could, it didn’t hurt to cover their tracks by undertaking the task side by side on occasion. “It’s been a while since we did the distraction bit.” Their most classic team-up move, when they had first begun: one of them diverting the attentions of their mark while the other snatched a purse, wallet, or whatever else was of discernible value. 

His continued to linger upon the purse when the inquiry concerning it breached his consciousness. With a start, his blue eyes snapped back to Juuzou. “What d’you mean, ‘ what does the quality have to do with anything? ’ It has to do with everything.” Potya shook his head, loose strands of auburn hair brushing his cheekbones. “It’s what makes the difference between mass produced crap and goods that’re actually worth something.” Almost without his forethought, Potya retrieved the bag and studied it briefly, biting down on his bottom lip. At the end of the day Juuzou was probably more correct than he would prefer to admit; for those in their position, what did such superficial things matter?

Forcing himself to toss it back into their pile of loot, he straightened his shoulders. “Rich women have so many bags like that, I doubt they’d even miss it. But yeah — better safe than sorry. I’ll look into some places not too close that’ll be willing to take it off our hands.” Then, Potya shifted his position to sit closer to Juuzou, gazing over his companion’s shoulder at the ad. “Probably. But y’know what? Let’s pick it up and bring it back here.” Best to attract as little attention to themselves as possible. “A new candy place opened up close by, too. We can check it out, if you’re interested.” The last sentence was spoken with a teasing lilt ( the day Juuzou showed impartiality to sweets was the day the world ended ).

Quick to snatch his coat from the peg on the wall where it hung, Potya shrugged it on. “It’s kinda cold, so make sure you wear something warm.” The old boots he had scrounged up a few weeks ago were still on his feet from before, making preparations to leave simple. “You wanna stop anywhere on the way?”

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“What can I do to convince you to stay in bed with me all day?” Yoosung asked, slipping one leg over Potya’s lap. His hands pressed gently into the other boy’s chest. “Just name it~ I’ve got hours until our next raid online, which makes me all yours.”

Potya’s head, which had been resting back against the headboard as he reveled in the warmth of the sunlight streaming in between the slats in the blinds, lolled forward at the sound of Yoosung’s voice. If anything was bound to pull him from the lazy state of sleepiness he was generally ensconced in during the morning, it was this: the sweet way each syllable left Yoosung’s lips, weight straddling his hips, and those familiar hands offering heat even through the sheets draped over him. Upon working his arms free from the covers, he ran his palms up Yoosung’s thighs. “Hours, huh?” In spite of himself, Potya’s lips curved into a genuine smile. Damn Yoosung for making him such a sap. “I could be working on shit, y’know — but you’re being such a good boy for me.” Of course, he garnered pleasure when Yoosung chose to reside on the opposite end of the spectrum just as well ( although that fact was already well-established enough between the two of them not to require vocalizing ). 

Hands traveling higher along Yoosung’s body, enjoying the softness present beneath each squeeze of his fingers, Potya’s expression grew a little sharper. “So, I might need you to spend a good chunk of that time showing me.” With that, he took hold of the hem of Yoosung’s shirt to coax it up and over his boyfriend’s head. There were moments when he preferred to tease nearing the point of playful cruelty, particularly when Yoosung hadn’t been so good. Now? Potya was arrested by the urge to tease in the sweetest sort of ways. Kicking down the blankets with his feet to remove any remaining barrier between them, he continued, “Get your pants off. I’ve something new to teach you, and I know you’re gonna do exactly what I tell you, yeah?” A corner of his mouth quirked higher. “I wanna watch you ride me so I can tell you how pretty you are while you’re doing it.”

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An actual angel ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ｖ｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

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Is there anyone you absolutely don’t trust, but you’re forced to put up with them anyway?

Potya considers the inquiry with a brief pouting of his lips. While there are certainly a multitude of people he doesn’t particularly care for, he wouldn’t venture so far as to suggest that he found them untrustworthy. A beat passes, and a response is formulated. “Yeah — Yuri’s parents.” He remains uncertain as to whether they’re actually bad people, yet he hesitates to trust that they always have Yuri’s best interests at heart ( a questioning which coincides with his own agenda far too heavily to be ignored ). “He’s the main source of income for them, and that’s a whole fucking lot of pressure to put on a kid, especially when he’s not supposed to be the one expected to provide for them. They don’t show up at most of his events, and his mom didn’t even raise him.” Usually adept at maintaining an unaffected air, Potya can feel the facade dwindling the longer he speaks.

“Yuri’s amazing. Dunno whether they see it or not, and either way’s just as bad. He deserves more than they give him, but I’ve gotta be ‘round them, obviously.” After rolling his blue eyes at his final comment, he proceeds to tack on, “But I’m glad he’s got Nikolai. You can see how much he loves Yuri just from watching them together.”

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do you like the person you’ve become?

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ooc;

finally wrote up a small blurb for potya’s “streets” verse~ i have another i hope to post very soon, but i’m so bad at updating verses and things. maybe now that i wrote out that i need to do it, i won’t forget? maybe

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“but…. but—where’s the senseless destruction? where’s the violence? where’s the fun?” (Juuzou)

Slowly, Potya’s blue eyes shifted their gaze from the brightly lit screen of the cell phone in his hand to Juuzou’s wondering face. “Not every fucking game’s gotta involve combat. Neko Atsume’s ‘bout collecting and cats.” With a furrowing of his brows and a shake of his head, he returned his attention back to his feline paradise as though further explanation as to its superiority was unnecessary. Strategic planning had been invested in his procurement of the varying cats available, and he was well on his way to completing the game overall ( though its enjoyment wasn’t likely to diminish afterwards ). Perhaps Yoosung didn’t value the game as much as Potya had expected, yet he was hardly influenced by the lack of enthusiasm. After all, it was nothing like LOLOL, even if the lacking resemblance failed to bother him in the slightest.

“You don’t have to sit for hours leveling up and shit, but you still get to make progress. Your yard can be set up however you want, and you get to have cats.” Covington was sorely lacking in that department. “Maybe you should at least try it. See why it’s good.” Then, he settled his shoulders a bit further back and tilted his chin. “But I’m not gonna just tell you how to collect all the cats. You’ve gotta figure it out for yourself.”

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CATS ARE THE RUNES OF BEAUTY, INVINCIBILITY, WONDER, PRIDE, FREEDOM, COLDNESS, SELF-SUFFICIENCY, AND DAINTY INDIVIDUALITY - THE QUALITIES OF SENSITIVE, ENLIGHTENED, MENTALLY DEVELOPED, PAGAN, CYNICAL, POETIC, PHILOSOPHIC, DISPASSIONATE, RESERVED, INDEPENDENT, NIETZSCHEAN, UNBROKEN, CIVILIZED, MASTER-CLASS MEN. // H.P. Lovecraft ©

— indie. private. selective. ( human potya from yuri!!! on ice )      written by raph.      est. 11/2/17

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mckeitbeautiful‌:

To hear that Potya wouldn’t think of leaving him – and that he planned for them to belong to each other – perked him up more than the compliments that followed. As smart, beautiful and brave as the other might have thought was was, was nothing compared to being his. The blush along his cheeks heated slightly, and he nodded in agreement. He was Potya’s. If Potya wanted him to remember something, Yoosung would remember it… regardless of whether or not he believed it, himself.

Besides, having his boyfriend so close to him made anything seem like it could have been just as real.

The blond almost choked on the breath that stopped in his chest. Was that not something that everyone did? It seemed so normal at home, seeing what had happened with his sister’s previous relationships. It hadn’t occurred to him that things might have been different in other families. Then again, he had to remember that it wasn’t as much of a ‘rule’ in the Plisetsky home, for the boys to go out and find a girlfriend, as it was within his own. There had to be other differences; ones that Yoosung was happy to learn about, if it meant making the ability to be himself even a little easier.

A hand settled on top of the one playing with his shirt. Not to push it away, but for another point of contact. The touch to his hair was relaxing, but the nuzzling against his neck was a whole new world of peace. It helped what was being said sink in – helped them to feel possible, and like he really could think about himself, and what he wanted. Yoosung knew he wanted Potya, but not much else. Even thinking of his parents knowing about his boyfriend was a near terrifying thing. Letting them talk, however… Violet eyes shifted down then back up, and the younger swallowed hard. They would hate him. Possibly both of them.

“I think… I want to keep this between us for now.” At least where his family was concerned. “I want to tell people! But not…” Arms tightened around his boyfriend’s neck, holding on to the closeness and trying to ignore any negative thoughts that surrounded his new relationship. His parents couldn’t tell him how to live his life while they were so far apart, could they? If he could get away with playing games online until all hours of the night, there was no telling what else he could have going for him (just from not listening to their rules and lessons taught at home.)

No more talk about the bad. All of that needed to be pushed away and ignored to the best of his ability. It was time to learn his own way to live his life. “I do like you,” Yoosung said at long last. “And I like hearing you laugh.” Finally, the shorter pulled back, but immediately leaned in again to rub the tip of his nose against his boyfriend’s. “I’ll teach you enough Korean to tell them who you are, and… what we are. Anything else they say won’t be important anyway.” 

Yoosung’s hand atop Potya’s own: it was the simplest of gestures, yet it ushered forth the greatest of pleasures. It was almost embarrassing, how it made his his lips curve and his eyelids grow heavier with the comforting nature of it. Without much forethought, he snuggled in closer as a soft purr sounded in his throat. Potya had only ever felt at home with Yuri. What he experienced with Yoosung was the same sort of comfort, although on an entirely different plane. Perhaps what made it so was the sheer fact that Yoosung acknowledged it, too.

Despite his inhibitions, Potya wasn’t going to allow himself to fuck this up.

As Yoosung finally spoke, he gave a short dip of his chin. While he might have bristled at the words coming from anyone else, he now understood exactly where Yoosung stood with all of this. Potya couldn’t fathom being in possession of parental figures who truly cared for him, but he also lived without the pressure of guardians who expected him to live as they saw fit regardless of his own desires. Even dwelling on it for too long left him with a confined sensation he needed to shake off.

“We don’t have to tell your parents ‘til you’re ready.” Although he would wasn’t of the mind to vocalize it, relief was imminent. Potya disliked Yoosung’s mother and father already due to the restrictions they had placed upon their son’s happiness, that much he was certain of. However, Yoosung still loved them. The notion of possibly being the cause of a falling out between Yoosung and the Kim family wasn’t one he wanted, his own feelings be damned. “As long as everyone else knows, ‘course.” His grin grew teasing and he gently squeezed Yoosung’s side.

Pausing for a moment, Potya hummed his agreement to the suggestion of learning Korean. “Teach me how to say, ‘ I wanna date your son whether you like it or not, ’ yeah?” His cheekbones reddening slightly at Yoosung’s compliment, he chose to press his face further against the blond’s neck to deliver a playful nip to the skin. “Sure, sure. And I like you, too.” Why was that so simultaneously mortifying and fantastic to say? “I like you so fucking much.”

His emotions were frayed wires, an intertwining of anxiety and anticipation, the result of purposefully placing himself in a position where he couldn’t hold onto full control. Never had Potya thought he would feel this way again — only now, it was happening, and it was so much better. Leaning back for just enough space between them that he might see Yoosung’s face, he cleared his throat. “Okay, but if you want to tell Yurochka, say, “Mne nravitsya tvoy brat.” How would Yuri react to this development? He could only hope well. “Y’know, there’s a lot you’ve gotta teach me in Korean. Like, cute and lemme kiss you again.”

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Do you want worldwide recognition and fame? Or are you into fashion for fashion alone?

“Why can’t I have both?” 

Potya raises an eyebrow. The inquiry is one he has anticipated before, and assumes many people are asked concerning their own individual craft. Why is it viewed as detrimental to one’s art to desire validation? His hands settle on his hips and he taps the toe of his boot against the ground for a moment before continuing. “I’d still be into fashion whether I managed to get anywhere with it or not. I’ve never been as fucking passionate ‘bout anything else.” As soon as he was able to hold a pencil between his fingers, Potya had begun sketching people, outfits, pieces — and hadn’t stopped. Always, his gaze is drawing in the drape of fabric along the contours of the human body, colors and textures intertwining, the way various aspects of a simple wardrobe could be paired together to produce an entirely new outfit.

Then, he allows a nod of his head. “But, ‘course I’d want recognition. Unless you’re known, no one’s gonna wear your shit and then, what’s the point?” Potya’s goal is to create garments to bring their wearer confidence or a way to express themselves they hadn’t yet discovered through another designer. Constructing solely for himself isn’t a way to achieve that. “For right now, I’m content with making outfits for people I already know. Still, I wanna be a designer who’s respected, whenever that happens.”

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mckeitbeautiful‌:

@potyattack

Things were slow. When it got quiet, it got boring, and Juuzou found himself searching for ways to occupy himself. Usually it meant there was little chance of gaining any funds or food to survive on, but that was all the more reason to look harder for an opportunity of stealing something left unguarded. Noticing people leaving with shopping bags, red eyes watched each person as they loaded things into their cars, then made his move.

It was all thanks to luck and good timing that he managed to snag a purse out of a cart while dashing barefoot through a parking lot. Continuing the run, he slipped in through the back door of the abandoned house he called home, and finally had a chance to catch his breath. Without looking around for Potya, the blond sank down to the pile of blankets in the middle of the floor. 

The zipper was opened and he spilled the purse contents out in front of himself. Sifting through the coin purse, the cards, and other miscellaneous crap that neither of them really had any use for, Juuzou created a separate pile for any money found (to be counted later.) “I think we might have enough for dinner,” he called out, to no one in particular. If the other had already gotten back, so be it. If not, he could wait a bit longer before deciding what to do with everything. 

As soon as Potya heard the telltale sounds of Juuzou’s return, a quiet smile lifted his lips. He had only returned home a few moments prior himself, and there was always something oddly disappointing about walking through the door to find Juuzou wasn’t home ( or at least, what was as close to a home as either of them had ever experienced ). Perhaps it wasn’t as odd as he tended to inform himself that it was. After all, the two of them had been nearly inseparable since they first banded together for the purpose of self-preservation. Then, as opposed to the cold, dark streets which were rough yet held the promise of possibility, it had been against the cruel hands of the staff at the orphanage where they had grown up, and even the other children.

Potya preferred not to dwell upon the past, however. There was no use in it; not for him, anyway. “Enough all on your own? Not too bad.” Kneeling down beside Juuzou, he mentally counted the bills and coins which had been deposited on the hardwood floor. While an exact number wasn’t made, he could ascertain their general worth, and it was just as Juuzou claimed. “You were careful like we talked about, though, yeah?” Aside from Juuzou’s safety at risk, there was also the chance that someone could follow one of them home and discover their utilization of the building they were staying in.

“Guess since you contributed the most, you get to decide what we have.” Then, Potya withdrew a small change purse from the back pocket of his jeans, waving it briefly in the air before tossing it down to join the rest of their spoils. “I’m not gonna leave all the work to you, though, got it?” His expression grew rather smug. “There’s a pretty decent amount in there, and the wallet’s really expensive, so we can probably sell that, too.” No point in quibbling over the details of how he managed to snatch it — it was always better to just keep moving forward. However, Potya picked up his prize once more, studying it. “You can tell it’s good quality just by looking at it. See the stitching? It’s so intricate and beautiful to look at, but it’s not superficial. It actually holds it all together.” Finally, he pulled his gaze back to Juuzou’s face. “Maybe we can go somewhere really good.”

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