Five years ago, private investigator Viktor Nikiforov came to Detroit in search of one Yuri, but stayed for another. Now, an urgent letter from Moscow forces Viktor to face his past mistakes, and maybe even question facts he had long since determined to be true. Why is it that Yuuri, his Yuuri, won’t trust Viktor with more than a first name and the promise of tomorrow? And is it mere coincidence that Otabek Altin, an infamous black-market antiquities dealer, is back in town right before the opening of a much anticipated Russian jewellery exhibit?
And perhaps the most important question of all – is Yuri Plisetsky, heir to the Agape Estate as well as the entire Plisetsky family fortune, still alive after all?
A mysterious adventure that features lost boys, fluffy white cats and ridiculously expensive diamonds. Now completed!
It was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The parking lot was almost completely empty, except for a somewhat ostentatious motorcycle. Altin was leaning casually against it, typing something rapidly on his phone. Yuri was behind him, crouched down over by the wall. He stood up, slowly, as the car pulled up next to them. The look in his eyes seemed unusually cautious.
Yuuri stepped out of Viktor’s car, his legs trembling slightly.
He didn’t even bother closing the door before he quickly started to make his way over towards Yuri. He walked fast, almost jogging, and completely ignored Altin as he passed him. When he came to a stop in front of Yuri, he was almost out of breath.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Yuri blurted out, before Yuuri could get a word in. “And I don’t care, okay? I don’t care if you think I shouldn’t have gone with Beka. I don’t care if you think I’m too stupid to decide things for myself. I’m practically an adult now, so you can’t decide everything about my life anymore. And most importantly, I-”
“Hey,” Yuuri cut in, speaking softly. “It’s okay, Yuri.”
Yuri fell silent abruptly.
“How is it okay?” he snapped, his tone actually angrier than before. “You’re mad at me. Aren’t you?”
That made Yuuri smile slightly.
“Honestly? Right now, I’m just glad you’re safe.”
Yuri frowned.
“You’re supposed to be angry,” he said flatly. “We’re going to have a dramatic fight where I finally get to yell at you. I’ve practiced what I’m going to say for days.”
“Oh,” Yuuri said, trying his best to keep his smile from widening. “I’m so sorry about that. Maybe another time?”
Something complicated passed over Yuri’s expression. Then he sighed.
“You suck,” he muttered, yet he the heat in his tone was barely there, now. “Anyway, how is Jaguar? And Saber, and Tooth? And-”
“They’re all fine,” Yuuri interrupted. “No thanks to you, this time. Although I haven’t actually seen Scandal these past few days… You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”
That actually made Yuri smile slightly. Slowly, carefully, he unzipped the front of his black leather jacket a few inches. There, curled up right against his chest, was the white kitten.
“I couldn’t just leave her, could I?” he said, somewhat defensively, before zipping his jacket back up again. “She’s so little. What if something had happened to her?”
“And nothing would happen to her when you brought her along with you and a known criminal on a motorcycle?” Yuuri asked sternly. “This isn’t exactly scoring you any points in the mature-enough-to-make-your-own-decisions department, by the way.”
“I was only going to keep her with me for a short while,” Yuri told him sourly. “I was planning on saying goodbye to you before we left, believe it or not.”
“Before you what now?” Yuuri asked sharply. “Noone is leaving, okay? That is the exact opposite of what’s going to happen here.”
“I just want to go for a few months.” Yuri shuffled his feet, almost nervously. Almost as if Yuuri’s opinion on the matter was an important factor. “Can’t you at least think about it? Beka is taking a break from everything, so I asked him to let me come along. And he said yes.”
“Did he, now,” Yuuri snapped. “And what in the world made you think that’s a good idea? It’s the exact kind of danger that I’ve tried to keep you away from all this time, I don’t want you getting caught up with some kind of criminal-”
“Didn’t you hear me? Beka is taking a break from all that stuff.” Yuri’s tone was pleading. “He’s going on a cross-country trip, someplace where he isn’t known, just to lie low. It won’t be any less safe for me than staying here in Detroit, with you. And you’ll know where I am, this time. I’ll call you. I’ll call you every day.”
That made Yuuri pause.
“You definitely wouldn’t call me,” he said, yet there was something of a question in his tone. “You’ve wanted to run away with Altin ever since you two met. If you finally managed to do it, you’d never take the time to stay in touch with me, of all people.”
Yuri’s expression darkened.
“You really suck, you know that?” he spat out, his tone suddenly trembling with anger. “Did it ever occur to you that I actually like you?”
Yuuri flinched at his words. He stared at Yuri, caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.
“You don’t mean that.”
“See, I knew you would say that.” Yuri’s tone was ice cold. “Being your friend is the absolute fucking worst. Because you hate yourself so much, you’re never going to see how much the things you do matter to other people. You’re always going to think that I don’t appreciate everything that you’ve done for me. That I’m too much of a stupid child to understand everything you’ve sacrificed to keep me safe.”
“I don’t hate myself that much,” Yuuri protested weakly. “And I definitely don’t think you’re stupid.”
I have gotten a few comments on fics like "I don't usually like [this pairing] but this was a fun read" or "I don't usually read [this genre] but I loved this!" Is this common for most people? What makes people click on fics for pairings/genres they don't usually read/enjoy?
I see it sometimes, and I’d like to make a gentle suggestion to comment writers about this. Consider leaving off the part where you say you don’t like the thing that this person is writing about. Clearly they like it, or they wouldn’t be writing it. You don’t need to explain to them.
As for why people read them? I’ve read things I wouldn’t normally read because a friend recommended it or because I saw it come across my dash here on tumblr and the post made it sound interesting to me in some way.
What about the rest of you? If you’ve read something you’d usually avoid, what prompted you to do that?
Honestly, as a writer, I love these types of comments. They’re expanding their horizons, even if mine was the only one of that pairing they end up reading (which is actually quite flattering IMO).
As a reader, it’s almost always because the writer is one whose writing I already enjoy and so I figure why not give this pairing a try.
I agree. I’ve had some people say they don’t usually go for a pairing I wrote but they tried it because they liked my other stuff and they really enjoyed it. That feels good to me. Like, wow, they are really trusting me here.
I agree, as a writer I do appreciate comments like these. There's also one similar type of comment that I personally think of as an even higher form of compliment - when a reader says they have a lot of love for this particular pairing and read a lot of fics about them, and they find that my fic is an especially good take on it? That's so, so big. That's the type of comment I screenshot and keep in a special folder.
For the people who are out there “fighting the good fight” and “trying to make fandom a better place,” I have two important questions for you:
1. Is the author dead? x
2. Is your baby in the bathwater? x
What do I mean by those things? Let’s start with #1. The Death of the Author is a type of literary criticism, the extreme cliff notes version of which is that art exists outside of the creator’s life, personal background, and even intentions. I’m using it slightly differently than Barthes intended, but that’s okay, because the author is dead and I’m interpreting his work through my own lens.
In fandom, the author is dead. In fact, the author was never alive in the first place, not really. The author has only ever been the idea of a person, because unlike published fiction, the only thing we know about a fanfic author is that which they choose to tell us about themselves.
Why is that important?
Because it might not be true. Hell, that happens in real life with published authors, who have SSN’s on file with their publishers, who pay taxes on the works they create and have researchable pasts. If the author of A Million Little Pieces could fake everything, why can’t I? Why can’t you? Why can’t the writer of your favorite fic in the whole wide world?
Stop me if you’ve heard this before: “you can only write about [sensitive subject] if [sensitive subject] has happened to you personally, otherwise you’re a disgusting monster that deserves to die!!” Or maybe “you can only write [x racial or ethnic group] characters if you’re [x racial or ethnic group] otherwise you’re racist/fetishizing/colonizing!”
You can play this game with any sensitive subject you can come up with. I’ve seen them all before, on a sliding scale of slightly chastising to literal death threats.
Now, I could tell you that I’m a white-passing Latina whose grandmother was an anchor baby. I could tell you that I speak only English because my family never taught me to speak Spanish, something which I’ve been told is common in the Cuban community, though I only know my own lived experience. I could tell you that I’m mostly neurotypical. I could tell you that I’m covered in surgical scars. I could tell you lots of things.
Are any of these true? Maybe! I could tell you that my brother has severe mental development problems, so uncommon that they’ve never been properly diagnosed, and that he will live the rest of his life in a group home with 24-hour care. Is that true? Am I allowed to write about families struggling with America’s piss-poor services for the handicapped now?
Am I allowed to write about being Cuban? After all, I did just say that I’m Cuban. But is it true? Can I instead write a character that’s Panamanian? Maybe I really am Panamanian, not Cuban. Maybe I’m both. Maybe I’m neither. Maybe I’m really French Canadian. Should we require people to post regular selfies? I can’t count the number of times I’ve had someone come up to me speaking Arabic, and I’ve been told that I look Syrian. What’s stopping me from making a blog that claims that I am Syrian? Can you even really tell someone’s race and ethnicity from a photo?
Am I allowed to write about being a teenager? Am I allowed to write about being a college student? Am I allowed to write about being an “adulty” adult? Can I write a character who’s 40? 50? 60? How old am I?
All of this is to say: you can’t base what someone is or is not “allowed” to write about on a background that may or may not be real. No matter how good your intentions. And I get it - this usually comes from a place of well-meaning. You’re trying to protect marginalized groups by stopping privileged people from trampling all over experiences that they haven’t suffered. I get that. It’s a very noble thought. But you can’t require a background check for every fic that you don’t like.
If you say “you can only write about rape if you’re a rape victim,” then one of three things will happen:
Real survivors will have to supply intimate details of their own violations to prevent harassment
Real survivors will refuse to engage and will then have to deal with death threats and people telling them to kill themselves for daring to write about their own experiences
People who aren’t survivors will say “yeah sure this happened to me” just to get people to shut up
Has that helped anyone? I mean really - anyone??
So now let’s get to point #2: is your baby in the bathwater?
If your intention is to protect marginalized people from being trampled upon, stop and assess if your boot is the one that’s now stamping on their face. Find your baby! Is your baby in the bathwater? Which is to say: find the goal that you’re advocating for. Now assess. Are you making the problem worse for the people you’re trying to protect? Does that rape victim really feel better, now that you’ve harassed and stalked them in the name of making rape victims feel safe?
Let’s say you read a fic that contains explicit sex between a 16 year old and a 17 year old. Is this okay? Would it be okay if the writer was 15? 16? 17? Should teenagers be barred from writing about their own lives, and should teenagers be banned from exploring sexuality in a fictional bubble, instead of hookup culture? Is it okay for a 20 year old to write about their experiences as a teenager? Is it okay for a 20 year old to write about being raped at a party as a teenager? Is it okay for a 30 year old? How about a 40 year old? Is it okay so long as it isn’t titillating? Is it okay if taking control of the narrative allows the writer to re-conceptualize their trauma as something they have control over? Is it okay if their therapist told them that writing is a safe creative outlet?
Is your author dead?
Is your baby in the bathwater?
Now let’s take a hardline approach: no fanfiction with characters who are under 18 years old. None. Is the 16 year old who really loves Harry Potter and wants to read/write about characters their own age better off? Should they be banned from writing? Should they be forced to exclusively read and write (adult) experiences that they haven’t lived? Will they write about teens anyway? Should they have to share it in secret? Should 16 year olds be ashamed of themselves? Should we just throw in with the evangelicals and say that the only answer is abstinence, both real and fictional?
Let’s say that no rape is allowed in fiction, at all. None. What happens to all the hurt/comfort fics where a character is raped and then receives the support and love that they deserve, slowly heal, and by the end have found themselves again? Are you helping rape victims by banning these stories? Are you helping rape victims by stripping their agency away, by telling them that their wants and their consent doesn’t matter?
Is your baby in the bathwater?
Fandom is currently being split in two: on one side, the people who want to make fandom a “safer” place by any means necessary, even if that means throwing out all of the marginalized groups they say they want to protect - and on the other, people who are saying “if you throw out that bathwater, you’re throwing the baby out too.”
The whole point of fandom is to be able to explore all kinds of ideas from the safety and comfort of a computer screen. You can read/write things that fascinate you, disgust you, titillate you, or make your heart feel warm. This is true of all fiction. People who want to read about rape and incest and extreme violence and torture can go pick up a copy of Game of Thrones from the bookstore whenever they want. Sanitizing fandom just means holding a community of people who are primarily not male, not straight, not cis, or some combination of those three, to higher and stricter standards than straight white cis male authors and creators all over the world.
There is nothing you can find on AO3 that you can’t find in a bookstore. Any teenager can go check out Lolita, or ASOIAF, or Flowers in the Attic, or Stephen King’s It, or Speak, or hundreds of other books that have adult themes or gratuitous violence or graphic sex. The difference is that AO3 has warnings and tags and allows people to interact only with the types of work that they want to, and allows people to curate their experiences.
Are these themes eligible to be explored, but only in the setting of something produced/published? Books, movies, television, studio art, music - all of these fields have huge barriers to entry, and they’re largely controlled by wealthy cishet white men. Is it better to say that only those who have the right connections to “make it” in these industries should be allowed to explore violence or sexuality or any other so-called “adult” theme?
Does banning women from writing MLM erotica make fan culture a better place?
Does banning queer people from writing about queer experiences make fan culture a better place?
Is M/M fic okay, but only if the author is male? What if he’s a transman? What if they’re NB? Who should get to draw those lines? Should TERFs get a vote? What if the author is a woman who feels more comfortable writing from a male character’s perspective because she’s grown up with male stories her whole life, or because she identifies more with male characters? What about all the transmen who discovered themselves, in part, by writing fanfiction, and realized that their desires to write male characters stemmed from something they hadn’t yet realized about themselves?
How can we ever be sure that the author is who they say they are?
Who is allowed to write these stories? How do we enforce it?
Is it better for none of these stories to ever exist at all?
The memory is brought back so suddenly and vividly, Yuuri almost feels as though he's been transported back to that day. To that competition. His first grand prix final feels almost like a lifetime ago, after everything that has come to pass since.
Carefully, Yuuri pushes the door open.
Someone stands bent over the sink furthest away from the door. Someone in a white and red jacket, the hem of an emerald green costume only just visible below. A young man with a medal gripped tightly, too tightly, in his right hand.
“Minami,” Yuuri says, softly. “Hey.”
Abruptly, Minami straightens.
“Why are you here?” he asks, his tone defensive. “Did my coach send you?”
“No. I only happened to pass by.”
Minami turns slightly towards Yuuri. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand. Takes a couple of too-quick breaths.
“Well, I'm fine. You can tell the others that I'll meet you outside the press room.”
“Minami.” Yuuri takes a small step closer towards him. “It's okay. It'll be okay, even if you don't feel okay right now.”
“I said I'm fine,” Minami repeated, his tone rising a little. “And I am. I made the podium, finally. I'm the bronze medalist at the world championships. Why wouldn't I be okay?”
“Well… If you say so.”
Yuuri shifts his weight between his feet. He's never been good at this sort of thing. And at this point he should really be more used to interacting with the younger skaters, should have plenty of well-articulated advice readily available for any occasion after his many years at the top of the game.
Not that Minami really counts as a younger skater, anymore.
Maybe this conversation would have gone a bit smoother if it hadn't been for the gold medal around Yuuri's own neck.
Although it’s not like Yuuri doesn’t get it.
“Do you want to know a secret?” he asks.
That seems to startle Minami a bit.
“What?”
“Most people aren't going to forgive you for being disappointed in yourself, when they think you have no reason to be.”
Minami looks at him quietly. Almost appraisingly.
“When they agree that you've failed, that’s when they'll support you,” Yuuri continues. “That’s when they'll be there for you. On a day like today, they're only going to want to celebrate you.”
Minami frowns, slightly. But not as if he disagrees. Rather, he looks like he agrees with Yuuri, but he doesn't like it one bit.
“So don't tell everyone that you’re disappointed,” Yuuri continues, his tone firm. “You can tell your closest friends. Maybe your family. Your coach, definitely. But don't tell the world. They won't understand.”
“It sounds like you have some experience with… Well. This.”
Minami is almost smiling.
“That’s my biggest secret of all,” Yuuri says. And now he has to look away for a moment. “You see, I'm always disappointed in myself, to some extent. Always.”
(Some extent may be understating it a bit. But that’s not something Minami necessarily needs to know.)
Minami’s eyes widen.
“But you won. You always win. How can you be disappointed?”
Yuuri chuckles.
“I don't win every time,” he corrects, gently. “And hey, today you got both the bronze and a new personal best. That’s objectively a huge achievement.”
Minami grimaces again.
“My score could have been even higher.”
“It could,” Yuuri agrees. Because it's true. “I'm sure you’re bitter about not getting that last rotation on the triple axel. I know I would have been, had the roles been reversed.”
Abruptly, Minami looks away.
They're both quiet for a moment. Yuuri feels unsure of what else he should say, or if he's already said too much. But at least Minami isn't crying, anymore.
“Can I tell you a secret, too?”
Now it's Minami who shuffles his feet, his expression unusually vulnerable. And suddenly Yuuri is hit by another memory, the memory of a young boy with a red streak in his hair and a heart full of bold, beautiful, fearless dreams.
Yuuri smiles.
“Of course, Minami. You can tell me anything.”
For some reason, Minami takes a breath. And then another one.
“That axel?” he says, continuing before Yuuri has the chance to answer. “The thing is, I wasn't missing just one rotation.”
It takes Yuuri a moment before it sinks in.
Then, slowly but surely, a wide smile starts spreading across his face.
“Is that so,” he says, feeling very excited. “Well, then. I guess I'd better step up my game, for next season.”
“I don't actually know that I'll be able to land it in competition, under pressure,” Minami hastens to add. “I'm case you didn't notice, I couldn't land it today.”
“You'll land it,” Yuuri says. And for some reason, he feels completely certain. “The axel is your best jump. And I don't think anyone else has your height on the triple. I'm sure you can do it.”
“I don't know. Maybe.”
Minami has started to blush. And he's definitely smiling, too, even if it’s just a little bit.
Maybe Yuuri isn't completely useless at this sort of thing, after all.
Suddenly, he thinks about all the things Victor’s told him about coaching. About how it’s even more rewarding, in some ways, than training to compete yourself. About how good it feels to pass on everything you've learnt to someone else, someone in the next generation. About the strange satisfaction of watching your student surpass your own limitations.
Someday, maybe. Although not yet. But someday, with someone like Minami?
Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
“Come on,” Yuuri says, nodding towards the door. “We're not getting out of that press conference, no matter how much we'd both like to. Let's go and get it over with.”
Minami grimaces again.
But as they walk into the press conference side by side, he's smiling, just a little bit.
On the occasion of this passing 5,000 notes (wow, thanks!!) I want to send out again a plea: please let me know if you write a fic from one of these prompts! I will want to read and reblog it! Tag with #goodpartsprompt or just drop me a message/ask. Thank you!!
Watching the entrance to a museum from a parked rental car for over four hours was, unsurprisingly, incredibly dull.
At least they had a large thermos of coffee. Yuuri was currently sipping his third cup, trying his best to stay focused and actually watch the entrance each and every moment. He hadn’t exactly gotten a good night’s sleep, the night before.
Viktor, on the other hand, seemed almost unfairly alert. He was staring at the museum entrance with a sharp look in his eyes. Yuuri wasn’t sure if he’d even seen Viktor blink.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Yuuri asked, before he remembered that the last thing he wanted to do was start a conversation.
Viktor turned to look at him very briefly, before his attention was back on the museum.
“It happens, in this line of work,” he replied shortly. “Being a private investigator is often a lot less exciting than people might think.”
“I suppose you have to be really persistent?” Yuuri guessed. “Maybe that’s why it suits you so well.”
Viktor glanced at Yuuri again.
“You think it suits me?”
“Sure,” Yuuri admitted. “You’re really good at it.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Viktor muttered, reaching for his own cup of coffee. “I had you right under my nose all these years, but for some reason I still couldn’t put two and two together.”
Yuuri wasn’t sure what to say to that, if he should apologize again or try to explain himself better. Thankfully, Viktor didn’t seem to expect any response at all.
“When did you first meet Otabek Altin?” he asked instead, his eyes still on the museum entrance.
“About four years ago, now. I was working on something and realized I needed a real expert on jewellery and fine art. Phichit introduced us.”
“And Altin helped you, just like that?”
“We helped each other,” Yuuri corrected him. “I was actually really worried about Otabek, at the time. He was still so young.”
“How old was he?”
“Seventeen.”
“Wait, what?” Viktor exclaimed, actually turning to look at Yuuri. “But he’s been a known black market dealer for years. How old is he now?”
“Around twenty, I think?” Yuuri shrugged. “I don’t know much about how things began for him. But he’s been supporting himself since he was about fourteen.”
“That’s insane,” Viktor muttered, his eyes back on the museum entrance. “Now I’m worried about Altin, too. He’s practically a child.”
“Hey, twenty isn’t all that young,” Yuuri disagreed. “I was just nineteen when I first came to Detroit, with Yuri. And things worked out fine for us.”
Viktor turned to look at him again. His expression had softened slightly.
“You were nineteen?”
“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed, even though he was a bit unsure of whether or not he had just revealed too much, about himself. “I was.”
“And Yuuri was twelve.”
“As you well know, yes.”
Viktor was quiet for a moment.
“That must have been very difficult.”
“The difficult part was the fact that we were literally running for our lives, those first couple of years,” Yuuri pointed out cheerfully. “Everything else felt comparatively easy.”
“See, that’s the part that I still don’t understand,” Viktor said, his voice sounding very tired. “Yuuri could you… Will you finally tell me what actually happened, back then?”
Nice take on 3.8. I would hesitantly add (and this isn't a dig at the author) that just because an author sees a situation as one way doesn't make the author's view the one true way to view the situation. Authors are people and they can be wrong too. Even if she meant to set the record straight that doesn't automatically mean it is.
yeah. I especially agree that there are different ways to view a work. although if a creator says this was my intention with this scene, then I can't say no, you're wrong, because obviously what they had in mind is what they had in mind. but I can say that's interesting, I read it a bit differently, here's how I see it.
so I wouldn't say that Ngozi is wrong, exactly? but rather, I don't think she is trying to tell us the true way to view the canon. I think she's just sharing the way she sees it, and I wanted to remind people that other interpretations are still very valid. different interpretations are valid.
please do scroll right past this if you can't be bothered to read yet another post like this one. I know I've skimmed through more than my fair share already, so. I feel you. have a great day.
okay.
1. I love all my sons equally. I love Nursey and Dex. I think they're both a little stupid right now, but I see where they're both coming from. I think they're both flawed, but I don't think either of them were horrible villians in 4.8. full disclosure: when I finished reading the update I was kinda smiling and shaking my head, thinking oh god, these idiots. wonder what'll happen next.
THAT BEING SAID.
2. I resent the idea that Ngozi 'set the record straight' or whatever when she posted her blog post about the update. and like, don't get me wrong, no disrespect whatsoever to Ngozi, she's a wonderful and talented creator who makes a kick ass comic for free. Ngozi rocks. no, I resent the general idea that when an author of any work publishes a comment on their intention behind a certain scene or series of events, they've somehow confirmed the canonical interpretation of that part of the work. I don't think that's what Ngozi is trying to achieve with her blog posts and I don't think that's how we should necessarily view them. the way I see it, the canon is in the comic. everything that is indisputable in the comic is canon. everything that is up to interpretation in the comic... is up to interpretation. and if your interpretation of the work does not align with an extra piece of information the creator provided on a blog, or in an interview, or something similar, then it just means that your interpretation of the work isn't the same as the creator's original intention.
but your interpretation is still valid. it's what the story made you think and feel when you read it. it's what you felt the characters expressed in that moment. can anyone take that away from you?
no.
see also: any statement ever made by j k rowling in interviews. and don't even get me started on george lucas.
I do love Ngozi's blog, though. I love to know her thoughts on the comic as it progresses, and it does give us interesting hints about updates to come, hints at what the canon might become at a later stage. but for me, the additional comments on the blog are not canon in and of themselves.
that's it, two things. thanks for reading. hope you have a great day.
Pass the happy!🌻🌈 when you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications!💖
hi there, thank you for including me in this!! 💖
so number one and number two, I'm so happy that it's the weekend and even happier that it's only Saturday night. small things maybe but I've had such a hectic autumn so far and I'm actually home this entire weekend which is unusual and fantastic.
number three, it's pumpkin spice season aka the best season and I've been thoroughly enjoying it!! 🎃🎃🎃
number four, I'm actually really happy that people are enjoying dreams are made of cotton candy, my fic for the @victuri-big-bang that recently finished posting. a lot of love went into that project and it's so nice to see it appreciated!! 💖💖💖
and finally number five, I've recently started watching Miraculous Ladybug after seeing it a lot on my dash and I absolutely adore it!! it's so cute and the relationships between the characters are very entertaining and I just love it, honestly, it's sweet and fun and a little ridiculous and just lovely!! it makes me smile so much!!!!! 🐞🐞🐞🐱🐱🐱
the third and final chapter of my fic for the @victuri-big-bang, a victuuri amusement park au.
“Oh, hey,” Phichit greeted Yuuri, his tone a bit surprised. “No plans with Viktor, today?”
“He’s working,” Yuuri said, leaning on the counter of Phichit’s stall. “And I don’t see him that often. Do I?”
“Only every single time Viktor has a day off, and sometimes in the mornings,” Phichit reminded him, grinning. “But sure. Not that often.”
“Right,” Yuuri mumbled, sighing. “Great.”
Phichit frowned.
“Hey. Is there something wrong?”
“Not really,” Yuuri said dully. “I don’t know, I just… I feel really stupid, sometimes.”
“Okay,” Phichit said, sounding only a little bit confused. “Like when?”
“Like right now,” Yuuri told him. ”I can’t really say how any of this happened, but apparently I can actually talk to Viktor without having to ride the Quadruple Flip, now. Which should be great, right?”
“Yep, that sums it up pretty well.”
“But it’s not great,” Yuuri complained, only to immediately correct himself. “I mean, it is great. So great. Possibly, too great.”
“Oh,” Phichit said, realization in his tone. “As in, you actually like like him now, or...?”
“Yes,” Yuuri said empathically. “I really do. And it’s honestly the worst thing ever. It’s even more frightening than riding the Flip ever was.”
“Hey, it can’t be all bad,” Phichit said, grinning slightly. “It’d be a whole lot worse if Viktor didn’t like you back.”
Yuuri froze.
“Wait. How do you know that Viktor likes me, too?”
“How do I… Isn’t it completely obvious?” Phichit was frowning. “I should hope he at least tolerates you, since you’re dating and all.”
Yuuri stared at him, blinking. His expression was completely blank.
“You are dating,” Phichit repeated, speaking slowly. “Right? You two go on dates all the time, I haven’t imagined this.”
“Uh,” Yuuri said intelligently. “Those were dates?”
“Jesus Christ,” Phichit exclaimed. “Holy shit. What in the name of fuck.”
“No, seriously, I don’t think Viktor thinks of them as dates,” Yuuri quickly protested, his tone urgent. “I mean, he’s just being really nice to me. Isn’t he?”
“Because he’s dating you!” Phichit nearly shouted. “I would do all of those things for you if we were dating, that’s just what it means to be dating.”
Yuuri frowned.
“You wouldn’t actually date me, though. Right?”
Phichit gaped at him.
“I literally asked you if you were single when we first met. Remember that, Yuuri? That happened.”
“Well, yes,” Yuuri said, smiling a little. “But you were just making conversation. It’s not like you actually wanted to go out with me.”
“What,” Phichit said, his tone flat. “Oh my God, why are you like this? How can anyone be this oblivious?”
Viktor works in an amusement park at the tallest, most daunting roller coaster. Yuuri is terrified of heights. Cue a ridiculous summer of mutual pining featuring awkward beginnings, meddling friends and a romance as sweet as cotton candy. Did someone say emotional roller coaster?
Yuuri’s legs were shaking.
“Come on,” Yuuko was saying, her tone somehow both encouraging and slightly apprehensive. “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, that’s it. We’ll be back on the ground soon.”
“I made it?” Yuuri choked out, belatedly realizing that he was clinging to her arm. “It’s… It’s over?”
“Yes, Yuuri, you made it. You actually survived the Quadruple Flip.”
Yuuri laughed shakily.
“You always did love pulling me out of my comfort zone,” he tried to joke, despite the fact that he didn’t actually think any of this was very funny. “Except this kind of makes all the other times look like warm-up.”
“Oh no, you’re not blaming this one on me,” Yuuko protested, her grip on Yuuri’s arm for some reason tightening. “You were the one who walked right up there and got on the roller coaster! Seriously, what were you thinking?”
“I, uh. I wasn’t?” Yuuri knew that he had probably started to blush, and unfortunately there was very little he could do about it. “It was just, you know. I was feeling a little dizzy. And a lot overwhelmed.”
Yuuko’s eyes narrowed.
“And then you decided that the Quadruple Flip would make you feel better? Really?”
Yuuri opened his mouth to say no, and then… Closed it again. Because as stupid as that sounded, Yuuri might actually end up feeling even more stupid if he told Yuuko the truth – that he had been feeling light-headed not only from the height, but even more so from losing himself in that pair of breathtaking blue eyes. One look, and Yuuri had been so, so gone.
