#extranikiforov

[yoiprimadonnazine-blog]

Presenting @extranikiforov:

I'm Rae, your local fanfic writing, YOI loving librarian! If I'm not being crushed by grad school, I'm most likely watching Food Network or writing fluffy AUs about my favorite skating boys.

[omgkatsudonplease]

lily!!! thanks a ton for offering to write me a birthday ficlet! i have two prompt options for you to choose from (courtesy of my personal prompt generator wife, robbie): 1. "we met each other on a sunday morning, both doing our walk of shame" au OR [cont.]

[cont.] 2. "i’m obsessed with a food blogger who writes about cheap ways to be gourmet in your 20s and i flirt with them over comments but they never post pictures of their face and ALSO there’s a really cute grocery bagger at the store down the street who teases me and always asks to join me for dinner and i definitely want to say yes" au. all ships fair game (though ofc i'm partial to victuuri, milasara, & phichimetti). thank you lovely!!! appreciate you tons!!!

okay so this is a belated bday ficlet for the super lovely @extranikiforov​! (ilu rae im just a butt who has no concept of time) i’m going to uh... hahaha okay this is prompt 1, phichimetti, and tangentially related to the mayo jar fic that @sinkingorswimming​ wrote for me:

Christophe has heard of him, of course -- no one who likes figure skating and Instagram hasn’t heard of Phichit Chulanont and his excellent little videos of him goofing around on the ice to various strains of pop music. He’s probably personally responsible for at least 85% of the plays on the one video of Phichit dancing to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” and somehow managing to nail the moves whilst having knife shoes strapped to his feet. 

But it’s one thing to know about the legend, and it’s another to meet him in person. And it’s another to run into him sneaking out of his neighbour Viktor’s apartment at six in the morning. 

“Seems we had the same idea,” he remarks cheerily, and Phichit nearly jumps a foot in the air at that, dropping his paper bag as he does. Christophe bends to get it, handing it back to him. “Visiting a friend?”

“I suppose,” says Phichit, and then frowns as he looks him up and down. “Wait. I’ve seen you around. You’re Yuuri’s Saturday Night.”

Christophe raises an eyebrow. “Saturday Night? Is that all you know about me?”

Phichit opens his mouth to protest further, but Christophe laughs, shaking his head as he takes out the key to his own apartment and fiddles with the door. 

“Want to grab brunch?”

Phichit snorts. “In your apartment?”

“Well, I’m amenable to going to Panin’s, but I do need to put on clothes that aren’t obviously from last night,” replies Christophe, gesturing to the rumpled date-night outfit that Yuuri had half-torn in his eagerness to get them off of him. 

Phichit looks him up and down, hums, and nods. “I see your point,” he says. “But Yuuri might be worried if --”

“Nonsense.” Christophe waves an airy hand. “You know he sleeps like the dead when he’s very tired out.”

“No thanks to you.” Phichit snorts again, but then his expression grows a little downcast, a little sheepish. “I’m... I’d be down for eggs and pancakes,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little darker at that. “But do you think I’d need to change, too?”

Christophe looks him up and down as briefly as he can. “Very Holly Golightly of you,” he declares. “I’m sure it’ll be quite the statement.”

Phichit laughs at that. “Right, breakfast at Panin’s in last night’s party dress. I’ll be accepting my Oscar now, thanks.”

Christophe smiles. “I like it,” he says, and vanishes into his apartment.

“So,” Christophe continues, half an hour later in a booth at Panin’s Diner on the corner. The city is starting to wake around them, cars and trucks honking and moving through the streets outside. Phichit stirs some whipped cream into his hot chocolate, and raises an eyebrow. 

“So?” he echoes.

“I’m just Yuuri’s Saturday Night to you?” Christophe prompts. Phichit laughs, resting his chin on his hands. His smile is as indolent as the Sunday morning outside, slow and sweet and a little worshipful. Christophe’s never been one for religion, but maybe there’s some hint of God in the way Phichit’s eyes sparkle. 

“I mean, I’ve heard other things,” Phichit replies, now idly licking his spoon and setting it back on the saucer. Christophe has barely touched his own coffee, but he’s more than alert to the way Phichit’s tongue dances along the steel edge of the spoon. “All good things, I’m guessing. I’ve always suspected Yuuri was a bit of a freak in the sack, so thanks for confirming that.”

Christophe feels his cheeks heat up, and he slowly slides his face into his hands. “How much did you hear,” he mutters. 

Phichit takes on a distinctly breathless tone. “Oh, big boy, don’t stop, right there, mm, yes, like that, harder, yes!” It attracts a couple curious stares from other diner patrons, and Christophe isn’t sure whether to try to shut him up or evaporate on the spot, but either way he looks around and beams widely at the rather bemused server headed their way with breakfast.

“He’s really into the hot chocolate,” he explains, and Phichit bursts into laughter. 

“So, big boy, I have to say, congratulations. I think you’re the first Saturday Night who’s ever gotten my poor roommate to think of someone other than Viktor Nikiforov for a couple hours at a time,” he teases. The server sets down their plates then, and almost immediately flees back behind the counter. Christophe can barely bring himself to be embarrassed at that. 

He opts instead for smothering his fluffy pancakes -- Panin’s are some of the finest in town -- with maple syrup and whipped cream. “I’ll be accepting my... what’s the equivalent of an Oscar for good sex, then?” 

“The... Golden Dildo,” declares Phichit, layering whipped cream between each layer of pancake and grinning from ear to ear. “A really big one, too. Yuuri once complained to me in this very booth that one of his Saturday Nights lied to him about being a grower.”

Christophe nearly spews out the pancake bite he’d just eaten. “What a disappointment that must have been,” he remarks. 

Phichit shakes his head. “He was betrayed.” 

“Hm. Speaking of betrayal, though -- ” Christophe’s eyes narrow. “Why were you sneaking out of Viktor’s place in a cocktail dress?”

Phichit shrugs. “Why does anyone ever do anything?” he wonders innocently. 

Christophe waves an accusatory fork at him. “Does Yuuri know you’re test driving Viktor for him?”

Phichit gapes. “Test driving!” he exclaims, laughing. “That’s one way to put it. I rather prefer the term ‘loosening the mayo jar’, but yours is classier.”

“I can’t believe I’ve finally lived to see the day where five-time world champion figure skater Viktor Nikiforov is referred to as a mayo jar, but here we are.” Christophe shakes his head. “What a strange world we live in.”

“Strange indeed,” agrees Phichit. “Considering that Viktor Nikiforov’s hot neighbour is screwing my poor, sweet, introverted dancer of a roommate.” He waggles his fork back at Christophe. “You’d almost think there was some big cosmic mix-up going on around here.” 

Christophe raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m hot,” he states.

“I’ve known you were hot for a while,” replies Phichit. “And I was surprised to see you show up sometimes on Saturday night, but hey. Hidden depths for everyone.”

Christophe wonders if this is the emotional equivalent of a punch to the solar plexus. He leans back in his seat and finally takes a long sip of his coffee. It’s not nearly as bitter as he’d like it to be. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Phichit says suddenly, setting down his fork and knife and folding his hands conspiratorially. “You and I know better than anyone that those two idiots we call our roommate and neighbour are... how do I put this lightly?”

“Emotionally constipated but pining after each other?” asks Christophe.

Phichit snaps his finger. “Precisely. And you and I also know we’re both very hot and would like to try this out, too.” He gestures between them. 

Christophe nods. “Viktor has... mentioned a couple times that he’s had his eyes set on his partner’s roommate,” he remarks. “He’s also then wondered if that makes him a bad person, but he doesn’t want to cheat, etcetera, etcetera.”

“It’s not cheating if we all agree to swap partners for a night,” Phichit points out, and then his eyes light up with some stroke of divine inspiration. “What are your thoughts, big boy, on a key party?” 

Christophe vaguely wonders if Phichit actually knows his name, though he also has to admit, he doesn’t mind being called ‘big boy’ in that tone of voice.

He takes a bite of his pancake. “Tell me more,” he says, and Phichit grins.

[crimson-chains]

Commission for @extranikiforov :D A pic for their fic which you can find here! >w< Was a heck of a lot of fun to work on ;w; Here’s an excerpt from the fic! :D “It always begins like this: Yuuri is alone in the middle of the ballroom, a warm, bright spotlight perched over his head. He looks up and takes in the audience, a gaggle of faceless people who await his first move. They whisper as the cameramen count down, and once action is announced they fall quiet. A tinny, mournful melody begins to play through the speakers overhead. A man sings about losing the one you love, of being alone, and Yuuri absorbs those words as he begins to dance. He falls forward in a sweeping motion, brushing his fingers against the floor before coming up again. His eyes fly heavenward and he reaches until his arm feels as if it’s going to pop. His feet follow the steps of a waltz, carefully pattering across the hardwood, and his arms rest at his sides, useless without a partner to hold. But then, the tune changes. A female voice joins in with the male on the record, and a familiar figure joins Yuuri in the ballroom. Hot breath brushes the back of Yuuri’s neck, accompanying a taut, sleek body. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is, standing there, brushing up against him, long fingers creating indents on his hips. Flowing silver hair, rippling down his back like a waterfall. Bowstring lips, pulled into an impossibly beautiful smirk. Electric blue eyes, bright enough to set the world on fire. Victor Nikiforov.“

[mckkachins]

Visit Original Link

thank you for tagging me @nikiforoov 💕💕 now the rest of the world gets to hear my voice (which @sapphoz insists has a “”””childlike timbre””” smh)

the rest of the post is under the cut!

- Your name and username. - Where you’re from. - Pronounce the following words: Aunt, Roof, Route, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Pajamas, Caught, Naturally, Aluminium, GIF, Tumblr, Crackerjack, Doorknob, Envelope, GPOY. - What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house? - What is a bubbly carbonated drink called? - What do you call gym shoes? - What do you call your grandparents? - What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket? - What is the thing you change the TV channel with? - Choose a book and read a passage from it. - Do you think you have an accent? - Be a wizard or a vampire? - Do you know anyone on Tumblr in real life? - End audio post by saying any THREE words you want.

i tag: @sapphoz @victorsnikforov @tearu @nikifoorov @sallyride @janehopp @extranikiforov @catsudons & @tsarvictor but you obviously don’t need to do this now or ever if you don’t want to 💕💕

[kiaronna]

5, 17, and 10 for the fanfic end of the year asks? :) (sorry if you got any of these already!)

5. most popular fic this year

I’m pretty sure Just Hold On indubitably holds that position. My other fics are… not even close. Technically PoL and DoY beat it in subscriptions, but it’s complete, so that doesn’t count :D

17. fics you’ll continue next year

Haha, I’m hoping to finish all of my WIPs in the coming year. One of my WIPs is sneaking close to the one-year mark, and that is terrifying. My goal is to finish that before its birthday, or I will feel bad for the story.

10. shortest WIP of the year

Aha, between your teeth and lips wins by a landslide, clocking in at less than 4k. It’s also the youngest, though! Give the babe some time to grow.

Don’t apologize, even if they had all been repeats it’s nice to get the ask!

writer ask meme

[mckkachins]

tagged by @victorsnikforov i love u maría josé! ur always so sweet 😘💕😘😘

rules: bold the option you prefer, then tag some others!

1. go apple picking vs go on a hay ride 2. scary vs sweet 3. sweaters vs boots 4. socks vs mittens 5. bonfires vs football 6. trick or treating vs watching scary movies (sign me up to fuck the next scary clown) 7. apple pie vs pumpkin pie 8. halloween vs thanksgiving 9. bake pie vs bake cookies (look dudes i’d burn down the house i can’t cook) 10. rain vs fog 11. black cats vs owls 12. ghosts vs wizards 13. harry potter vs halloweentown (what??) 14. go hiking vs sleep in 15. cinnamon vs nutmeg 16. reading vs writing (i really just cry reading what i’ve written???) 17. hot chocolate vs tea  18. live in a cabin in a forest vs have it be fall 24/7 19. candy apples vs caramel apples 20. blankets vs pillows 21. roasted marshmallows vs roasted chestnuts (hnnnng this is so hard) 22. coffee vs apple cider 23. red leaves vs orange leaves 24. braids vs bows 25. scented candles vs scent of freshly baked goods 26. carve pumpkins vs make pumpkin pie 27. pumpkin spice lattes V.S. chai tea lattes (these are both overpriced and im kinda broke rn ://////) 28. coats vs oversized sweaters 29. beanies vs berets 30. candy corn vs peanut butter cups (if u take candy corn near me i will punch ur face) 31. s'mores vs apple crisp 32. jump in a pile of leaves vs swing on a tire swing 33. corn maze vs haunted house 34. bob for apples vs visit a pumpkin patch 35. whipped cream on hot chocolate vs marshmallows on hot chocolate whew!! like damn i know halloween is over but halloween is never over for me. spookytimes forever tbh. im going to tag: @catsuukis @extranikiforov @tsarvictor @nikifoorov @nikiforoov 💕💕

[maydei]

[belovedyuuri]

When you get this, send it to 5 writers that you love and tell them what you love most about their writing! Spread the love! (Basia, love, your writing is so heartfelt. I adore that I can read any of your stories and know I will feel connected to your characters in an instant. Your time and adoration for your fic shines through so much in your fic, and I thought I'd let you know that everything you write is amazing!)

so this is cheating a little because I got this message for last year’s fanfic writer appreciation day but I forgot to reply c’: so here

thank you Rae, thank you so much <3 every time I get to read your writing it’s like putting on the comfiest pyjamas I own, making myself my favourite tea, wrapping a blanket around my body and curling in my favourite armchair - all hidden--and found--in your words. Thank you for writing *hugs*