#plistesky

[wd-53]

Su sombra (on Wattpad)

Víktor Nikiforov, la gran estrella de Rusia. El patinador que todos admiraban y envidiaban, el hombre del que todos hablaban y por el que suspiraban. Que cansado estaba a estas alturas de ese "maravilloso" hombre. 

¡Hola! Esta es mi participación para el concurso Odisea 2022, espero que disfrutéis de mi pequeña historia.

[linkemon]

Start in your head (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴀʟʟᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ." ᴍᴀᴋꜱɪᴍ ᴡᴏɪᴛɪᴜʟ

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:

ᴘɪʀᴏᴢʜᴋɪ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀɴ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴄʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ

ꜰᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ́ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪʀᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ

ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ.

[Reader] looked around the rink. She had been coming here for a week in a row and these visits promised to be a new, quite interesting tradition. Partly because she enjoyed teasing Yuri on most occasions and it was an interesting new form of an old game. Whenever the boy saw that she came to stare, he immediately gave her the best kind of taunts. The day before yesterday, he even deliberately extended the training to see if the girl would leave. However, he failed to achieve the intended effect and she returned with him chattering all the way.

— What are you doing here again, you idiot?

— Nice to see you too, Plisetsky. — She grinned so widely that Yuri swore her jaw was about to stretch.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but deep in his heart he was surprised at her behaviour. Most people hated him from the beginning (or didn't want to be friends with him after some time). He weeded out a lot of those individuals who fit into the two categories because he didn't want to associate with them. Apart from his fans and family, with whom he already had problems, he was left with only a small group of people who wanted to see him and whom he allowed to do so. And she was slowly starting to belong to that group.

— I told you not to come. — He started unlacing his skates.

— Nothing new. — She leaned against the board. — Today we're going to town.

— For what reason? — he huffed.

— They opened a Russian food stand near the park and are selling pirozhki.

This was his weak spot. [Reader] knew well how much Yuri appreciated his grandfather's delicacies.

The boy was aware that the taste probably wouldn't be as good as what he usually ate but the thought of a warm buns after training almost made his mouth water.

— Okay, let's go. — They better be edible, though — he muttered.

The walk to the park consisted mainly of [Reader's] monologue but it was nothing new. Since the ballerina arrived with Lilia Baranovskaya, he managed to say goodbye to silence for long moments.

—... and then I do a pirouette, and she says... — she stopped abruptly. — Wait a second!

The skater was about to comment on how he wouldn't freeze like a fool on the street in sub-zero temperatures when he saw where the girl had turned.

— Who is sweet and charming? Who is? You are!

[Reader] was just lifting an adorable, furry, ginger ball into the air. The kitten snuggled into her shoulder, clearly craving warmth.

At the same time, his second, less trusting companion appeared around the corner and, after sniffing the girl's shoes, he gave up her company in favour of Plistesky.

He looked a bit like Potya, so he started stroking his fluffy head without hesitation. He already missed his pet.

— I don't think they're strays — [Reader] said, examining the collar that should have a contact address on it.

Before she could add anything, a young couple with a child turned from the main street into an alley.

A little girl who was missing several baby teeth stopped shedding tears as soon as she found the kittens. As if on cue, both of them obediently jumped from the teenagers' arms and wandered over to her.

She mumbled a thank you, which her parents told her to repeat, and then disappeared.

— It's a pity. — [Reader] glanced at her now empty hands.

— It's not a pity. They found the owners.

— I know but still... — An unfinished thought hung in the air.

Without any further obstacles, they finally managed to reach the booth. The girl had to admit that it looked quite pretty in the pastel colors of the Russian flag, lit by a row of light bulbs.

While standing in line, she managed to argue with Yuri three times. The customers closest to them looked at them strangely and parents covered their children's ears. And when they reached the ordering stage, she was afraid that the seller simply wouldn't serve the two of them because his murderous look indicated exactly that. However, nothing like that happened and she received her pirozhki.

The girl sniffed it, and then reluctantly bit into her portion.

— Wow, it's sooo good! — She looked at the filling, trying to guess the composition of the it in the dim light of the lamps.

— Tch — he snorted. — My grandfather makes better ones — he said but he ate the rest of his portion.

After this trip, it turned out that it was the first but not the last.

[Reader] liked Russian food so much that she dragged the boy to the booth every day, ordering new delicacies.

The system added a new item to the menu every day and worked quite efficiently. When they were halfway through the list, one fateful afternoon occurred.

It was starting to get dark. The boy's training was almost over and the girl still hadn't shown up at the ice rink. Baranovskaya stood by the board, which never happened at this time. As usual, she was accompanied by a careful look and a frown.

Yuri drove towards her in a fluid movement.

— Was [Reader] here?

The question, short and to the point, required the same type of answer.

— NO.

— If she does show up, tell her to come to me. It's true that she took second place and she can do better but for God's sake! Instant break down? We have to fill out these papers and she disappears right after the competition. — She waved the stack of papers angrily and walked away.

The skater had no desire to return to training. He left the rink, wondering if [Reader] had told him anything about the ballet competition. However, he came to the conclusion that despite letting some information out through the other ear, he would still remember something so important.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but the ballet mistress's words and tone worried him.

He searched the Internet for recent news. The photo in a recently published article showed the lucky winner of the gold medal. However, it was not [Reader]. He managed to find an amateur video showing the performance of the girl and her competitors.

He called her once but only silence answered on the phone.

With quiet hope in his heart, he decided to go to the park. It was a bull's-eye. It's true that the girl, although she didn't choose their usual bench, didn't really hide. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the frost, and delicate snowflakes settled on her hair. Moreover, she was bathed in the dull light of the park lamps. She would have looked beautiful if the image hadn't been spoiled by her red eyes from crying. [Reader] held the unfinished pirozhki in her hand, her eyes fixed on the dead center. She only broke out of her trance when she saw familiar shoes and their owner a few meters in front of her.

— What are you doing here, idiot? Baranovskaya is looking for you — he huffed.

— Then call her and tell her I'm here — she replied in a flat voice.

Yuri was speechless. The girl had never seemed so emotionless to him.

— I won't handle things for you, call her yourself — he provoked again.

— I'm not going anywhere. — She shrugged. — Nothing will happen if I don't sign these papers. I want to quit.

— What exactly? — He frowned.

— Ballet. — She bit into her food. — I've spent a lot of time here today thinking about it, and I think it's a pretty good idea. No more training and competitions. I will finally be able to return to normal school. Plus, seeing family every day sounds good too. I won't have to spend half my life abroad. By the way, you're a damn hypocrite. You kept saying that I was dragging you here by force and now you came of your own free will.

This was too much for the boy. Her condition, so different from what he had been accustomed to over the past weeks, was getting on his nerves. He couldn't deal with it.

— Have you gone completely crazy? — He asked in the coldest tone [Reader] had ever heard from him.

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and then sat down on the bench next to her.

— I saw both performances online. You may be on a similar level but you are better than her. Just look at your fouetté at the end. Those damn judges must have been blind when they gave you half a point less.

The girl raised her head to look at his face. She had rarely seen him talk about something with such conviction. She was ashamed to admit it but she didn't suspect Yuri of ever being able to give anyone a compliment. For that reason, however, this one had a stronger effect on her than most she had heard about her dancing before.

The Yuri's green eyes seemed sincere. The decision she had made that afternoon now seemed to her like a less than fantastic vision, driven by the impulse of failure.

— I'm grateful but...

— If you think I'm just saying this because I want to comfort you, then...

— That's not what I meant — she quickly denied. — I appreciate what you said but I still need to think about whether I want to enter the next competition. Go back and tell Lilia not to worry.

— But if you do, just know that at the next competition I'm going to sit in the audience and watch you beat the crap out of all of them and...

— Yuri!

The boy rolled his eyes and stood up from the bench. [Reader] did one of the most spontaneous things she had ever done. She ran to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

— Thank you again — she whispered and returned to her seat.

The Russian smiled to himself, feeling a feeling of warmth spread throughout his body.

That night neither of them could sleep.

[fictionkinfessions]

desperate urge to learn ice skating to connect more with your kin

-yuri plistesky

[superninjanugget]

"When your heat is over, I'd like to have the chance to court you."

Yuri sputters into his wine. "Wh-Excuse me?"

Otabek repeats himself, "I'd like to court you, if you'd let me."

"Court me." Yuri's voice is flat. "We're already mated."

"I know that." Otabek looks at him, a serious frown tugging on his mouth. "Yes, you're already wearing my mark. You are in all technicalities my mate and I am yours, but I haven't exactly been a good one to you, have I?"

Yuri crosses his arms. "We're only mates on paper. You have no obligation to me."

"I know, but I'd like to change that."

Did I write a little bit of an arranged marriage omegaverse au for Otayuri? Maybe!

Will I ever do more of it? Probably not!

[littledancer8-writes]

Master post for all of the silhouette portraits that I made to help promote regency week that took place earlier this year. Please click for larger images. Please do not repost or copy to another website without permission. 

[mitoco-st]

Foto  #12

31-07-17

“El pequeño tigre de Rusia <3″

[schaladresdan]

Coming next month, Otayuri Week! Check out the prompts here: https://twitter.com/otayuriweek/status/1283475196033335297?s=21

[sarcasticsouthernbookworm]

I’d like to take a moment to re-examine this scene from a different angle.

I feel like before Phichit, Yuuko was Yuuri’s best friend. They grew up together gushing over Viktor. And now here he is in their childhood rink quite obviously hitting on Yuuri

Yuuri looking at Yuuko: What the fuck is going on!?!?!?! What do I do??!!!!!!!

Yuuko looking back at Yuuri: Holy shit dude I have no idea!!!!

[katchanri]

🐯🐻

Fashion AU Otayuri commission for the lovely @onekingdomonce ✨

[truly-a-snitch]

Yurio: *calls Yuri* Hey is your refrigerator running?

Yuri and Viktor: Yeah, why?

Yurio: YOURE GAY

[katsukiyuuri-nikiforov]

Miscommunications in the Margin of Language

AO3 here

It takes Yuri all of 72 hours to realize other-Yuri speaks Russian.

It isn’t something that’s hard to figure out.

Of course, other-Yuri isn’t obvious about it. He never speaks it- though, if Yuri had to guess he’d say the pig is probably perfectly capable- and he doesn’t participate in the conversations between Viktor and him, never even going as far as to nod in the appropriate places. But he listens, and sometimes Viktor will give Yuri a correction, and other-Yuri follows the order without a second thought, straightening an arm, or standing up taller, even though he’s all the way across the rink.

And he listens to the conversations with a detached ear, occasionally letting out quiet huffs of laughter at some of Viktor’s more ridiculous turns of phrase. He just sits and listens, even as he appears to be doing something else; stretching or bandaging his feet before tying skates, or even just brushing Makkachin. Yuri knows from experience that listening to a language you don’t understand for that long can be trying; music is your best friend is foreign countries.

And when Hiroko mentions that other-Yuri studied languages and linguistics, well, it suddenly clicks into place, confirms what Yuri is pretty sure he’s known since the first day.

He doesn’t think much of it. Takes stock of the knowledge, adjusts his conversations with Viktor accordingly, privately acknowledges that other-Yuri is clearly very intelligent (Not only does he know three languages, but three completely different alphabets too. Yuri is fairly certain he wouldn’t have graduated without at least passing literate comprehensibility in his chosen languages (it doesn’t surprise Yuri in the least that he chose Russian) ) and moves on.

~

Yuri anticipates other-Yuri’s arrival is Russia with trepidation and excitement, in that order, not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

He’s found that Yuri is far better company than Viktor, quiet and supportive and caring in a way that doesn’t make Yuri feel like he’s being suffocated.

So when Viktor asks him if he wants to come to meet Katsudon at the airport he grumbles a lot but agrees before Viktor has enough time to rescind the offer.

By the time they arrive, other- Yuri is already waiting by the carousel, watching as the bags spin past with an impatient expression on his face.

“Lubov! We’re here!” Viktor practically drapes himself across his fiancé, and Yuri tries hard to stifle his snickers when other-Yuri jumps, and pushes him off, before turning to Yuri.

“Yura! How have you been?” He asks, wrapping arms around his shoulders in a bracing hug Yuri wants to hate but can’t.

Yuri doesn’t bother answering in English, ‘Fine, now get off me!’

Other- Yuri raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and let's go, moving to grasp Viktor’s hand in his own. The old man doesn’t seem to notice, and Yuri can’t help but wonder if he knows yet, or if he’s really just that dense.

He wonders if other Yuri knows that he knows, or if he to doesn’t even really differentiate between the languages anymore then Yuri does when he spends enough time in an English speaking country. They start to blur together. He doesn’t care enough to ask.

Two days later and other- Yuri and Viktor are in the rink, up before dawn, and skating before even Yakov is there. Skating in Russia is different than skating anywhere else. They work harder, longer, and Yuri doesn’t think that other-Yuri is going to be able to handle it, but it’s noon already by the time Yuri gets on the ice, and they’re both still there, Viktor watching from his position on the rink- even though Yuri’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be warming up- as other- Yuri runs through his step sequences. Even Yuri admits they’re beautiful, at least, he admits it to himself, he’s always thought so, but the love lorn look on Viktor’s face has gone so past professional admiration, past coach-ly pride, and into sickeningly in love that Yuri shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions. He’s a child and the lust in Viktor’s eyes is most certainly not appropriate. He’s saved from possibly having to go to jail by Yakov, who’s screaming Viktor’s name the minute he spots him hovering on the ice. Other- Yuri doesn’t falter, only adjusts his position so he’s occupying the corner of the rink Yakov had just told Viktor his student could use. Viktor doesn’t seem to notice that other-Yuri’s already there, already keeping his position, only relays the message in English, and turns to face Yakov, but Yuri notices, and judging from the squinty glare Yakov is throwing the other- Yuri, so did he.

Practice continues in the same vein. Viktor and other-Yuri show up for practice at obscenely early hours for Yuri’s private rink time. Their practice over laps for about two hours, with other-Yuri’s cool down and Viktor’s warm up, and then Yuri disappears sometime in the middle- Yuri later finds out it’s for ballet, with Lilia, who genuinely seems to like him- only to return towards the end to watch the last of Viktor’s private ice time with Yakov, who also seems to genuinely like him. Yuri isn’t sure how other-Yuri managed it, but everyone at the rink seems to love him. He even heard some of the ice dancers whispering in the lunch room yesterday about how good he was for Viktor.

About two weeks in he’s pretty sure that everyone at the rink is aware that other- Yuri has at least a passing comprehension in Russian except his own fiancé, who continues to translate random phrases that he deems important. He catches Yakov speaking quietly with him in Russian over the edge of the rink, Viktor nowhere in sight, and while other-Yuri is definitely answering in English, he’s obviously having no trouble keeping up with Yakov’s brusk manner of speech.

It’s a struggle to decide whether to point it out, or watch patiently for it all to explode in a million pieces. He can just picture it, other-Yuri’s tomato red face when the truth comes out. Part of him wants to see it, other-Yuri’s impending embarrassment, but the rest of him knows that this whole predicament is obviously Viktor’s fault (maybe Yuri should have said something but really, it’s been obvious from the beginning!) So he decides it’s probably best if he asks because, like everyone else, he’s fallen for his stupid, irresistible charms and he actually likes him. Even if he’d rather cut off his own foot than admit it. He’s pretty sure other-Yuri knows anyways.

“Can I ask you a question?” They’re in the locker room. Yuri is starting later than normal today, and other- Yuri must just be leaving for his ballet lessons with Lilia.

Other-Yuri pauses in untying his skates.

“Of course Yura. Is something wrong?” He sounds so genuinely concerned, and Yuri wars with the desire to yell at him for it, or hug him. There’s something so unerringly disarming about his presence that Yuri’s had to stop himself from doing exactly that at on multiple occasions.

“I just- well.” He hates himself for his stuttering speech. He could blame it on the English, which he still tends to use with other-Yuri out of habit, blame it on the fact that he’s barely spoken it at all in months, but he’s pretty sure nobody would believe him, least of all Yuri, who is startlingly observant at times (and unsurprisingly oblivious when it comes to himself).

Other-Yuri is sitting up straight now, efforts of unlacing abandoned, and he’s got a frown so deep on his face Yuri thinks that he’s probably going to pull a muscle.

“Yura?”

“Yeah, just, Viktor doesn’t know you speak Russian.” He says it quietly, calmly, it’s probably the first time he’s said something to other-Yuri that hasn’t been screaming or an insult, but he doesn’t even look surprised. Of course he doesn’t. Because other-Yuri can see through him like he’s made of glass, knows exactly what he means even when he’s saying the exact opposite.

Other-Yuri visibly flinches, and glances surreptitiously at the door behind Yuri’s shoulder, like double checking that no one’s there to hear them. He looks so guilty that Yuri almost feels bad for asking. “No, he doesn’t”

Yuri doesn’t respond, only raises an eyebrow for him to continue.

“I- he, well. You know I studied languages, da?” And, wow, the fact that Viktor doesn’t know when other-Yuri is using Russian replacements for what he knows were once Japanese and, maybe once upon a time, English, colloquialisms without seemingly any thought is simply astonishing.

Maybe he thinks his boyfriend- fiancé says a voice that sounds uncomfortably like Viktor’s- picked it up from him, but they’ve only been in Russia two weeks. Maybe Yuri’s over thinking this, but, even if he is it still should be obvious. He doesn’t say any of this though, only nods, once, slowly, and waits for the Katsudon to continue.

“Well, he knows I studied linguistics and languages. My kaa-chan, ah… my mom, she told him, first week he was there, same as she told you. I honestly thought he knew for the longest time, Yuri, really. I wasn’t keeping it from him on purpose, I mean, I also speak French, a little German, conversational Thai, it’s.. it’s not uncommon knowledge in the skating circles that I’m, well, interested in languages,” Yuri almost laughs out loud here because interested is not the word. He would have used gifted, maybe. He’s allowed to admit these things in the safety of his own head. “anyway, he spoke in Russian a lot, those first couple of months, and it dwindled, a little, but it picked up again after we-” he stops, coughs, normally Yuri would complain but he doesn’t actually mind and right now isn’t the time. “Never mind, I’m getting off track. My point is, I thought he knew until Barcelona, when he started translating things for me, and even then I thought it was a joke, but then he started translating for Chris, who thought it was hilarious by the way because I love Viktor but my French is better than his, and when I finally realized… It’d been months, Yuri, and then I remembered everything he’d said in Russian and I realized those were probably not things I was supposed to understand. It wasn’t anything terribly interesting just, god I’m so embarrassed? And he still hasn’t noticed and-” His breath gets a little heavy and Yuri, in all his bluster and teenage angst, knows that his anxiety is worse than he lets on, knows because he understands.

“Hey, wow, Katsudon… Yuri. Can I touch you?” Other-Yuri pauses, then shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

“I- I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to…”

Yuri shakes his head raises a hand to pat his shoulder, remembers his original refusal, and drops it back into his lap. Yuri notices, of course he notices, and smiles at him, small and trembling.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. You’ll just have to return the favour sometime, da?”

Apparently that does actually surprise him, this small display of weakness, not, Yuri thinks, because it is actually a weakness. Because it isn’t, no matter what Katsudon or anyone, or even Yuri sometimes thinks. He isn’t sure if it’s Yuri’s own admittance of it, or the actual fact that surprises him though. It doesn’t matter anyways.

Other-Yuri sighs, and reaches out tentatively to grasp his his hand, nods solemnly. Yuri doesn’t bother pulling away, there’s no one else there to see it.

The conversation ends there. Yuri doesn’t point it out when Viktor continues to translate random snatches of conversation, although, he does roll his eyes more, usually in view of Other-Yuri, and has to stifle laughter when Yuri in turn shoots him exasperated, pleading looks behind Viktor’s back.

Other-Yuri starts taking him out to lunch on the weekends, when Viktor’s at the rink and it’s both of their days off.

Yuri still snarls and scoffs and hurls insults, but now other-Yuri just smiles sweetly and raises a challenging eyebrow, like he’s asking if that’s all Yuri’s got. (It isn’t. Of course not. But he doesn’t actually want to hurt the Katsudon’s feelings so…) They fall into an easy sort of companionability, and, he will even admit out loud, for Katsudon’s ears only, that he enjoys it.

He’s friends with Otabek, obviously, and Mila, sort of, and he had a handful of friendly acquaintances before he started doing all his course work by correspondence, but Yuri, (who has recently given him permission to call him Yuu-chan, if it made things easier (Yuri did, in private because he was sort of honoured- he looked things up alright?)) was different, he didn’t demand anything of Yuri, didn’t expect anything of him, and, when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, held up his promise without question. They were friends, equals, which is why Yuri is trying to signal him to stop talking.

They’re at the rink, it’s Viktor’s day off, and they’re standing at the boards talking. (Yuri had finally managed to convinces other-Yuri to actually speak Russian, instead of just listening, because he was never going to improve if he didn’t, Yuri had agreed reluctantly. (Turns out his Russian is perfect, if slightly accented with softer Japanese vowels, and, rarely, oddly pitched English sounding consonants)).

Other- Yuri is facing the middle of the rink, speaking loudly, because everyone else had left for lunch, when Viktor walks through the door. Yuri immediately switches to English, flicking his eyes behind other-Yuri’s head, but he doesn’t seem to catch his meaning. Continuing his complaints, slouching over the boards, and only blinking, surprised when Yuri switches languages out of no where.

Viktor’s getting close though, and he’s definitely going to notice, and as much as Yuri thinks finally, he doesn’t want Katsudon to be hurt, so he pokes him in the stomach and hisses.

“Yuu-chan!” At the same time that Viktor says “Yuratchka!”

The other-Yuri nearly falls over in his hurry to turn around, skates slipping out beneath him, barely grabbing the boards in time to keep himself up right.

“Vitya! What-” he catches himself, pauses, reassess, tries again. Yuri’s pretty sure it’s too late now though.

“Viktor what are you doing here?” It’s English this time, but Yuri can see the moment Viktor gets it. It’s the same moment that other-Yuri lets all pretences drop and thunks his head down on the boards.

“You’ve been learning Russian!” Or maybe not.

“What? Viktor, no.”

“Yes yes, I just heard you! You don’t need to hide it anymore. Was it supposed to be a surprise? I could have helped!”

Yuri can’t help the look he throws the Katsudon because really could Viktor be any dumber right then? He finds that Yuri’s already looking at him, but his gaze drifts back too Viktor a moment later.

Yuri’s tempted to leave, to skate away, but this is also horribly fascinating, so instead he sidles up to the boards and pulls himself up. Other-Yuri shoots him a half disapproving look, but he doesn’t say anything, Yakov isn’t here to get mad right then.

“Viktor, I didn’t need your help.” He says it slowly, like he’s hoping Viktor will get it without him having to say anything outright.

Viktor just frowns, one hand fluttering to his chest. “Oh.”

Other-Yuri sighs. Tries a different tactic. Yuri’s half way to blurting ‘he’s been speaking Russian as long as I have!’ but refrains. He’s just here to watch.

“Viktor… you know I speak French right?” Viktor nods, looks at Yuri like he thinks he’s trying to change the topic of conversation. “So.. You know you don’t have to translate anything when Chris calls right?” Viktor just blinks, like this is a surprise, and Yuri knows he’s not dumb. He really isn’t, he can calculate the exact angle and velocity needed to land a jump in his head, but sometimes he wonders how he gets through the day because he really just never bothers to think.

“And… You know I studied Languages in college?” Viktor nods, and Yuri thinks that maybe he’s starting to see a dawning of understanding in his eyes.

“So… Ya. I ah, honestly thought you knew? I guess? And when I figured out you didn’t I just- well, it’d been so long. I didn’t know how-”

“How long have you been able to speak it?” Viktor doesn’t look mad. Mostly curious.

“Oh, well. Ah… Properly? Only since my second year of University? But, my comprehensions been pretty decent since I was… 15 or 16 maybe? I started learning when I was 13.” Yuri looks proud, but also a little embarrassed to admit that.

Suddenly Viktor’s bright red and “oh my god you understand me.” This doesn’t make any sense to Yuri, but the other-Yuri goes a little pink and coughs, throwing a glance Yuri’s way before looking back at Viktor apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to, at first. And I mean, there were some things… Not exactly every day vocabulary you know?”

The doors bang open then, and Yakov storms in, followed by Mila. Yuri can just see the trickle of other skaters and coaches on the other side.

“Viktor! What are you doing here? It’s your day off. You’re distracting Yuri! Don’t think I don’t see you on those boards Yura! Suicides! And then I want to see jumps from both of you, Yuris!”

Viktor opens his mouth, looks at other-Yuri, who’s already skating backwards, and turns impossibly redder. “He didn’t ask me to translate.” He says, “He hasn’t, does everyone know?” Other-Yuri looks guiltier in contrast.

“I’m really sorry Vitya. Vicchan. I am I promise.” Viktor shakes head, beckons him closer, presses a kiss to his lips, still looking a little dazed, but then he turns to Yuri and… Oh no, what does he have on him that he’s going to use to turn the situation around? Yuri knows that look.

“So. You’re calling him Yuu-chan now?”

Yuri’s going to kill him. He doesn’t care if Katsudon will be sad.

[cactus-stuff]

Hace poquito me di cuenta que nunca subí este dibujo del Hada Rusa jejox xd ai-estoy-bien-menzo.jpg

[the-anon-artist]

my 5 fave anime characters

@misas-biggest-fan tagged me for this and im actually really excited abt that :D

rules: list your 5 favorite anime characters and tag 10 ppl

Number 5: Yuri Plisetsky

Number 4: Erza Scarlet

Number 3: Shima Nishina

Number 2: Kagamine Rin (i know shes not technically an anime character, but she DESERVES a place on this list)

Number 1: Misa Amane + L Lawliet (i just couldn’t decide ahhhhh)

+Bonus: Mihael Keehl (He was so close to being on this list, itd just make him angry lol)

i tag: @fandom-fae @translightyagami @sapphicdeathnote @chocomello2 @just-reblog-thoughts @bitch-for-death-note @the-real-death-note-victim @eyecicles @kiranatrix @animefanimefic & anyone else who sees this and wants to :D

[yuriplisetsky-rp]

Sorry for the lack of updates, been I've been busy lately with wedding planning and preparing for Nationals. Speaking of which... We're here! The flight was so fucking long.... Why are all flights from Japan to Saransk 26+ hours?

Anyway, the short is on Thursday and the free is on Friday.

I'm a bit nervous, but I'm excited. I know I can win here. I think I'm ready. I want my title back.

@georgipopovich-voiceblog - Are you here yet or are you arriving later?

[phoenixwaller]

Fairy Lights

Victor noticed the signs even without Yuri saying anything: the missed jumps, the diverted gazes, the fidgeting when he thought nobody was watching.

Something was bothering Yuri.

Victor could guess what it was. Worlds was only a few weeks away, and Yuri was doubting himself, despite taking gold at Four Continents. Even worse, Victor suspected that Yuri was worried about disappointing him.

Victor put his finger to his lip and decided. He skated over to where Yurio was taking a break at the barrier.

"Hey Yurio," Victor said, leaning against the barrier.

"That's not my name old man!" Yurio shouted.

Victor chuckled. "That game you and Yuri have been talking about drops today, right?"

"Yeah? Not like I'm getting it today anyway," Yurio grumbled. "What of it?"

"Why aren't you getting it?"

"I already sent money back home. Waiting on my next sponsor check to get it."

"How about I pay, and you go with Yuri to the game store."

Yurio narrowed his eyes. "What's your game old man?"

"I want to create a surprise for Yuri, but it'll take some time. He might be tempted to get it another time if they're busy, but if you go with I know he'll stay."

"Is this some gross romantic shit?"

"Of course!"

Yurio growled and kicked at the ice. "Fine!" he finally hissed, "But only because you're paying for the game."

Victor chuckled. "Thanks Yurio."

"Still not my name!" the teen yelled before skating off.

Victor ordered flowers and withdrew some money for Yurio while Yuri was in ballet practice, then placed an order for their favorite takeout to be delivered around the time he expected Yuri back.

Victor kissed his fiance at the entrance to the rink, while Yurio cried 'gross' in the background, then they were headed their separate ways.

Victor rushed home, and immediately dug into his boxes of holiday decorations for the one final touch. He grinned as he pulled free several strands of fairy lights.

His phone buzzed on the table, and Victor's smile widened as he read the text from Yurio.

Long line at the game store. Will be here for a bit.

Victor hummed as he started stringing the lights around the apartment; draping them over tables and around vases of flowers. As the light dimmed outside the string lights cast a soft glow through the apartment.

Leaving the game store now. The next message from Yurio read.

Victor walked around the apartment, tidying up the loose ends. He accepted the food delivery when it arrived, and was just lighting candles at the table when he heard Yuri's key in the lock.

Victor walked out and held his arm open to greet his love, and was immediately rewarded with an armful of Yuri. He kissed him deeply before allowing him to see the surprise.

Yuri's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him, flowers stood tall in vases all around, the lights bouncing off soft petals and creating a warm glow.

"Vitya?" Yuri asked, tears sparkling at the corners of his eyes.

Victor smiled and tipped Yuri's chin up for another kiss. "I've seen your anxiety trying to trick you again," he said softly. "And I just wanted you to see how much you mean to me. Yuri, you bring a sparkling light to my life, and all these lights and flowers can't hold a candle to the beauty I see in you every day."

Yuri smiled even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I love you Yuri."

Yuri sniffled and buried his face in Victor's chest. "I love you too."

This ficlet was originally posted to my Patreon. Become a patron for more early access and exclusive fics. 

[gwensparlour]

“So, how did it go?” Yuri blocked Yuuri as soon as he exited the room. Yuuri smiled sheepishly. “Not bad, I guess.” Yuri made a disgusted face. “That part should’ve been mine,” he reiterated, glancing at the ballerina who was being called inside. “I don’t think you’ll get the part, but if you get it and you don’t put your soul in it, I swear I’ll beat you up!” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Yuuri let out a liberating laugh, tension accumulated before and during the audition melting away thanks to Yuri’s frown. It made him look like a kitten: proud and potentially dangerous, but overall adorable and innocuous.

[à contretemps - croisés, écartés, entrelacés]

I used the virtual tour of Mariinsky foyer to have an idea of the scenario, but in the end, I got bored and did only the basic. The door is half-done because I couldn’t decide whether it would open by pulling or pushing.

Yes, Yurio’s arms are a mess. Next time it’ll be better. 

This time I focused more on the characters than the scenery because it would be too empty and I kinda had a “horror vacui”. Then my indecisive ass is never happy with the choice I made, so I’m still learning to let go and be “next time I’ll do things differently”

Like, learning to actually draw stairs