Game Changer & Make Some Noise
YOU ARE THE REASON
Fai_Ryy
izzy's playlists!
The Stonewall Inn
Love Begins
d e v o n
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle
todays bird
Monterey Bay Aquarium
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Cosmic Funnies
ojovivo
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Noah Kahan
noise dept.
Andulka
Xuebing Du
pixel skylines
seen from Germany
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Australia
seen from Argentina
seen from Canada
seen from Spain
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Indonesia
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Canada
@glxcies-blog1
❝ Last dance, first kiss
Your touch, my bliss
Beauty always comes with dark thoughts ❞
❆ - Ind. and semi-selective Viktor Nikiforov from YOI !! ❆ - Written by Seph !! ❆ - OC and crossover friendly !! ❆ - promo artwork © @en_eeen
Your art is very good friendo :)
{aahhhhhh thank you kind anon !! Your words really made my day >w< I wish I had more time to practice, (also with my writing) but I am ever waddling in the pool of mediocrity ;;}
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{happy new year !! Expect some festive muse for my Viktor upon my return <3}
❆ - {I am currently obsessed with my son and he’s a beautiful, devilish swan. also this will never be completed just watch me}
Yuuri was returning from his morning jog, when he noticed the door was left slightly ajar. He had come back to collect his things, Viktor having already headed off to the rink, makkachin dutifully following after his master, throwing behind a casual, five minutes, piggy ! With him as he as went.
Yuuri didn’t think much about it. The thought of an intrude had never even crossed his mind. He had pushed the door open, shedding his coat as he did,
❛ – It’s fine, お姉さん . I can clean things up later, just pass me my skates –❜ He stammered to a halt, when he realised it was definitely not MARI, sprawled out on his bed, watching him with curious eyes. A mess on the floor, dozens of posters having spilled out from where Yuuri had hastily shoved them in when Viktor first arrived, and now, holding one up to the light idly, lips curved into a smile of pure amusement was none other than.. VIKTOR.
Yet it wasn’t VIKTOR. Not the same man currently waiting at the rink and bouncing from one foot to the other. The youthful good looks, the hair that swept down to his back, how his eyes sparkled with such vivacity and promise… Being his biggest fan, Yuuri recognised him at once.
Viktor Nikiforov, at sixteen years of age. He remembers watching the same boy take to the ice at the worlds, he remembers watching him dance in awe. he had only been twelve, and he had already made up his mind. One day, he was going to join him.
And now.. utter disbelief, as he watches the young russian, from similar yet so different to his fiance, his mind struggling to piece together the eternal mystery that was Viktor Nikiforov.
❛ H O W – ? ❜
@vityablades | @glxcies
Hues brimming with the iciest depths of galaxies flickered in the older man’s direction, and upon settling on him they kindled with the brilliant flare of a supernova. Intrigue broke across that flawlessly androgynous canvas in the form of a curious smile on plush lips, and for a fleeting moment the juvenile mien was lit up with delight. The way he sat up was positively feline, and the lustrous length of his hair shimmered like a gorgeous waterfall as it cascaded in silky ribbons over his shoulders. “There you are !!”
He exclaimed through a thick accent, voice like the gentle, silvery peal of faraway morning bells. There was such life to him, such potential to bring the whole world---no, the universe, down to its knees. The irresistibly gracious nymph then leapt off the bed in a flurry of his own posters like he was made to soar to the aether, and made a perfect landing a mere inches from the spot where the dark haired host seemed to be petrified in. With the gracious countenance of a prima ballerina he never hunched over, even as he leaned forward to closely (too closely) observe the Japanese man, eyes sparkling with unknown mystery, lips stretched in the contained enigma of an unreadable and utterly ravishing smile. “You must be my number one fan!” the hands that were previously clutched behind the lovely bend of his spine moved to give a single, enthusiastic clap, signalling some sort of revelation. “Good. I’m here to make all of your wishes come true.” he finally declared, seemingly satisfied and mock-solemn but no less captivating; a lithe finger, as if carved from pure alabaster, reached over to tap the tip of the taller man’s nose in emphasis.
❝ Last dance, first kiss
Your touch, my bliss
Beauty always comes with dark thoughts ❞
❆ - Ind. and semi-selective Viktor Nikiforov from YOI !! ❆ - Written by Seph !! ❆ - OC and crossover friendly !! ❆ - promo artwork (c) @en_eeen
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❆ - {/casually sets my sinful blog on fire}
Shouldn’t you be on top of the tree, Angel? {bonus: Vitya points at himself because is the tree omg please forgive me}
@glxcies | ❄️
it doesn’t TAKE long for Yuuri to catch on to the other’s double meaning, the flimsy ornament he had been holding in his hand slipping from his grip, making a dull thud as it met the carpet, but neither of them reacted. At once he LIT up with a furious blush, made more apparent by the twinkling lights he had fixed on the tree a moment before. The japanese skater’s eyes are WIDE, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down nervously as he gulps; for a reason yet known to him, he involuntarily takes a step back, the prickly pines rubbing up and down uncomfortably against his back, the rustle of leaves as he nearly trips over a present underfoot drowned out by the sudden deafening sound of his heart.
– DID he just IMAGINE that W I N K ?
❛ W-we’re not done decorating it yet ! ❜ He stammers, glasses suddenly knocked askew as he watched the man close the sudden gap between them.❛ – VIKTOR ! ❜
There is no apt description for the expression on Viktor’s positively impish face at that moment, flickered away as soon as it had appeared. It really doesn’t take much for Yuuri to be haplessly flustered, and boy does he turn into an awkwardly babbling mess !! It’s too much for Viktor’s heart and devilish mind. Oh how easily the wicked prey on the innocent !! The emblematic way he’s draped the strands of silver and blue tinsel around his arms is no coincidence, and the double entendre is painfully clear from the disarmingly provocative gaze he unleashes on Yuuri, like a coup the grace. The ice within them is a scorching paradox. His lips part, sucking in the gasping breath that he’s so artfully wrenched from his favourite victim, and his fingers are the inescapable, coiling snares of a preying snake as they slide around the younger man’s sides, settling at the base of his hips. For now.
“My, my, Yuuri. Your cheeks are redder than those baubles.” he teases with a hint of a chuckle; “I’m just eager to see my angel on top.” he leans down at a hair’s breadth from his parted lips, enough to feel the quasi-imperceptible puffs of his frustration, only to use the tip of his long nose to partially push the hanging glasses mid-way up the bridge of Yuuri’s, his own lips torturously brushing against the heated apple of his cheek. And then, he leans back with a cheshire grin.
✳ {I'm soRRY I couldn't resist, can we? can we? :3}
@glxcies | ❄️
❛ – VIKTOR. ❜ A name once uttered with such tenderness now coloured with utter irritation, as he slumped back against the rink, clutching his things close. It had been the Russian’s idea to come practise today, Yuuri having already expressed his worry about the heavy snowfall. But Viktor was stubborn, a few words about beating him at the next GPF was enough to send Yuuri hurtling towards his new homerink for the season without another word of complaint. Besides, it was his birthday; Viktor loved ice, and Yuuri loved Viktor. He had been DOOMED from the start.
It SNOWED so much more here than it did in Hasetsu; brown eyes watched the front doors, ones they had pushed open only hours before, laughing and joking. Beyond them now was as a mountain of SNOW, some of which was now melting on the carpet. It was clear, from the moment Viktor had wrenched open the door and invoked a little avalanche of his own. They was snowed in.
Phones were no good either; given the massive snowfall, all lines were busy. Yuri was off on a date– no, the other boy would deny that to his grave– a playdate with Otabek, who was in Russia for christmas. Yuuri doubted the younger boy would risk missing a single WORD from the usually reticent Khazahkstani skater. His phone had been turned off for hours now.
Yuuri just hoped a kiss under the mistletoe was WORTH THE DEATH OF HIS PARENTS.
No– he was exaggerating, but Yuri had no experience with things like these. He had never experienced being snowed in before, all he knew he knew from movies. Movies where the snow would keep them lodged in for MONTHS, until the heroine lay, blue faced and dying on the hero’s lap.
Granted, that usually happened in a lonely mountain cabin, and where they were, he could still hear the muffled sound of an occasional car, whizzing by. But he couldn’t help but let his imagination run WILD. The rink was a very c o l d place to be, during a snow storm, and he was already shivering, as he leaned his head back with a groan.
❛ WHAT are we going to do NOW ? ❜
Viktor had assumed his trademark pensive look, something he reserved for when he was trying to resolve a situation creatively, as he was wont to. It wasn’t all bad, really - definitely not the first time he’d found himself in that sort of predicament, having grown up in a village nested between a jagged crown of unforgiving mountain peaks. A particularly heavy snowfall was practically the norm at that time of the year - it was the duration of it that could cross the line between norm and concern. Hopefully it wouldn’t last too long, but he could already see the flitter of panic upon Yuuri’s fitful demeanour, and as endearing as he secretly found it, his chest tightened at the unimpressed tone the other was using. There was only one possible route left to go, and a golden opportunity to make his birthday a memorable one (though, as he would later come to realise, it already was).
“It’s obvious, Yuuri.” his tone dropped dramatically, wisps of that irresistible sultriness tangling with the velvet texture of Viktor’s beautifully accented voice. In stark contrast to the way in which the syllables of his own name had been so harshly spoken, Viktor’s silver tongue rolled Yuuri’s out like warm butter upon his glistening lips, with just the right amount of emphasis. If casually enthralling seduction could be translated into dulcet tones, then Viktor was its voice.
“ What do people do when they are trapped in a snowstorm? They share body heat.” and as if the verbal teasing coupled with the utterly debauched look in his piercingly keen, heavy lidded eyes wasn’t enough, the silver-haired skating sensation took it one step further, and dared to unzip the front of his jacket in a very suggestive manner - and thus the beautiful swan morphed into the very living embodiment of ἔρως. Now, if that was not pretty much the perfect execution of a rabid fan’s wet dream, he didn’t know what was. He really had no excuse to justify such shamelessly selfish teasing.
Hello everyone! I’m sure everyone’s probably busy with the holidays and anything else going on, but I’d like to wish everyone a happy holidays!! Please enjoy your holidays with your friends, family, and please stay safe. I hope that everyone has a great holiday!
Please excuse the bad graphics, I can’t edit, but more importantly-!
I want to thank everyone (my 180+ followers especially!!) by hosting a giveaway! I would like to keep it for my followers only (if you follow me after just for the giveaway, I’ll be excluding you from the list. This is to thank my followers after all).
It’s a small giveaway, but I’d like to do something to thank everyone for the time spent here. So!!! The prizes?
1st place will receive 150 icons of any muse OR a short fic of choice AND an aesthetic/moodboard promo!
2nd place will receive 100 icons of any muse OR an aesthetic/moodboard promo!
3rd place will receive 50 icons of any muse OR an aesthetic/moodboard promo!
I will count one like and one reblog as an entry each, and that will be it! The giveaway will end January 1st, at 23:59 EST!
Once again, Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! Stay warm~
@glxcies
It’s not as if he knew his way around St. Petersburg well, and asking Viktor to take him around would have probably been suspicious…but still he wanted to do something to celebrate the other’s birthday.
“…Viktor, is there anything you want to do today?”
“... mmmn--спать.”
Was his muffled reply wrenched from dried lips, eyes still glued shut with the pasty drowsiness of stubborn sleep. It didn’t even register what day it was; all that mattered was getting back to that rather inspiring dream he was so blissfully enjoying, so languidly sprawled over the mess of crumpled sheets. It was partly because of the sub-conscious state he was in, but he truly had reached a shameless level of comfort around Yuuri (not that he ever had much modesty around him to begin with, after their fateful encounter at the GPF banquet).
A package arrives for Viktor, containing a blue flashlight shaped like a dog, small enough to fit in a pocket but bright enough to light the way on walks at night. It comes with a card, saying "Happy birthday Viktor! I hope you like this! Don't trip!"
❆ ❆ -- An almost juvenile smile peeks from between the flawless lines of his jaw, a touched gasp parting his lips to widen it into a pleased grin. How charmingly and unexpectedly thoughtful. He wastes no time in taking a victory snap with his considerate birthday gift.[iPhoto: Пичит] > sent: photo
[iMessage: Пичит] > sent: I will finally see what I’m tripping over !! This is so cute !![iMessage: Пичит] > sent: you really shouldn’t have 😘 Спасибо !!
He sets the card on his desk in good sight to complement his growing collection; he then proceeds to test the flashlight on a snoozing Makkacchin with a mischievous little snicker, prompting him to turn over with displeased grumble in response to the offending beam (it really is surprisingly bright !!)
Rise from Ashes
Almost 10 years ago she would’ve told herself she wouldn’t have gone back onto the ice after a small competition that left her with an abysmal score and a deep scar across both heart and mind. She had gotten into designing, had her own site where people could commission their own personal orders for their costumes. It felt a little touch and go with a little bit of income.
However, she notified everyone that the order sheet was closed due to her going on vacation. What she never said was that the inspiration had faded several weeks ago. Things felt stagnant, the same, never changing. She had picked up flight tickets to St. Petersburg, Russia a while in advance after a while of immense planning, contemplating, and she walked away from the business for a while. Something though drew her attention once she had left the airport. And she wasn’t due to check in at the hotel for at least a few hours, she just dragged her bag on wheels behind her and just went.
Now, she found herself standing at the edge of the public ice rink, at a time slot where no one was there and a few Euros poorer. Angelique glanced around at the stands, it was an empty space, no one was sitting there, staring, judging, or anything. It left her perfectly alone. Taking off her coat she set it down on the wall and carefully removed her blade guards, the metal of the blades were colored a cobalt blue, still sharp and in good condition. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a set of earbuds and inserted them into her phone, which went into her pocket.
A little unsteady she glided towards the center and closed her eyes, it wasn’t until she pressed play did she allow the music to play. From the starting position, she moved with a slow saddened step sequence. She let the music guide her movements, and it wasn’t fluid by any means, she was stiff even as she entered a spread eagle before taking to a Salchow, it had only turned into a single and out of practice from the sport she had to catch herself on hand on the exit. At least she hadn’t fallen flat on her face yet.
@glxcies
It is said that fame is a cruel and fickle mistress, but for Viktor Nikiforov, that was true about inspiration - and he was slowly coming to terms with the painful fact that he was alarmingly running out of it. He couldn’t truly be himself without it. It wasn’t about winning, for he could still score higher than most competitors on technique and composition alone. It was about his own enjoyment of the discipline, and the idea of having thrown his entire life into the rink without heeding the consequences of building his whole world around it. Now he could feel it so close to shattering, and with it his life purpose, and the unwaveringly confident, skater legend extraordinaire Viktor Nikiforov had never been more afraid. What had he sacrificed his entire life for, if he couldn’t surprise and surpass himself anymore? How could he undergo yet another spectacularly magnificent rebirth, when there were no more lives left to him? Time walked hand in hand with solitude now, and it wrapped around his limbs like heavy chains set to drag him down into the murky depths of purposelessness and inevitable failure.
He couldn’t but laugh at himself as he stared down at that crumpled piece of paper he’d carried as a last, desperate resort; even a cheesy anonymous anecdote found in a candy wrapper had more wisdom and ideas than he did, now. ‘Inspiration can be found in the simplest of things.’ So, back to basics. And that is how he suddenly found himself standing in front of a public ice rink, a place he hadn’t set foot in since he’d been a tot on a touristy holiday, charming the casual skaters with his impressive feats and grace, even as an unripe young amateur. Being who he was, there was no doubt the staff would close the rink for a private skating session, but he hadn’t expected for it to be already occupied. Competitive figure skaters usually practiced in professional rinks. It was big enough to host at least fifty people, let alone two. But as he watched the lone bluebird earnestly dance their unspoken sorrow on the exhausted ice, Viktor did not feel like interrupting; he instead sat on a bench to observe, his mind providing an aptly melancholy music for the raw, improvised choreography.
❆ - {has anyone ever told you you are a precious gift to the whole world ;w; I’ll check it out!}
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❆ – {I need someone who is organised to tell me how to track my drafts}
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❆ -- {tag fix because I think it’s broken /ugly sobs
If you’ve mentioned me/tagged me and I have given no sign of acknowledgement, please let me know because I may have missed it!}
