I forgot to specify my request so here it is again. I wanted to ask if you could write headcanons for Victor, yuri, yurio and phichit with a constantly injured skater! reader. Reader is very fast paced, overachieving and hates taking breaks which is why they often end up with sprains or super sore muscles that take days to weeks to recover. It's more specific, sorry about that. As said, I just really love your writing
Yuri on ice boys dating Injured Overachiever Skater reader would include?
Victor Nikiforov
You were the type who couldn’t sit still, even when the pain in your ankle screamed for mercy. While others rested between sessions, you were already back on the ice tape barely dry, staring down your own exhaustion like it was something to conquer. Victor admired that fire in you; it reminded him of himself when he was younger and terrified him all the same.
He’d tease you first, of course. “You’re incredible,” he’d say with that lilting tone and gleam in his eyes, “but if you break your leg, I’m not choreographing a wheelchair routine.” He meant it half-seriously, half as a way to make you laugh because Victor’s way of caring was rarely straightforward.
The first time he caught you trying to hide a limp, he didn’t raise his voice. He just skated backward in front of you, smooth as silk, eyes lifting slightly as he said, “You know, even champions have the sense to rest when their bodies ask them to.” When you ignored him, he quietly stepped closer, adjusted your stance, and whispered, “You won’t get faster if you destroy yourself before you peak.”
Victor isn’t a natural caretaker in the traditional sense he’s bad at fussing, terrible at emotional messes, and tends to fumble through worry with overwhelming affection instead. But with you, he starts learning the quiet parts of care: showing up with ice packs, pretending to “accidentally” leave his massage roller by your chair, or scheduling a “joint recovery day” where he coincidentally insists on low-impact practice.
When you groaned about being benched, he’d grin and stretch beside you. “Then let’s work on choreography,” he’d say, matching your restless energy in a way that redirected it instead of scolding it. Victor knows the ache of wanting to move, he’s addicted to motion, too, so he never asks you to stop being you. He just insists you learn to pause more elegantly.
He secretly documents your injuries like data not because he’s obsessive, but because it helps him understand your limits in choreography. When designing new movements, he’ll adjust transitions or angles to take pressure off your previous weak spots. He never tells you outright that he’s doing it, though; in his mind, “adaptation” feels more romantic than “protection.”
On days your frustration turns into self-blame, he doesn’t always have the perfect comforting words. Instead, he’ll skate beside you, silent and fluid, showing instead of speaking that beauty and control can coexist with mistakes. “You don’t have to fight the ice every time, my love,” he murmurs one evening. “Sometimes it’s enough to dance with it.”
When you finally let yourself rest, Victor becomes visibly softer. He thrives on your energy but also loves when you let him pamper you brushing your hair back, wrapping you in one of his endless trench coats, his tone dropping into that rare, genuine quiet. “You burn so beautifully,” he says once, “but I want to see you shine for a long time.”
The funniest part? He’s just as bad as you. You’ll catch him pushing through his own sore joints or skipping meals while sketching choreography, and when you call him out, he’ll flash that disarming smile. “I’m simply following your example, dear coach.” It becomes your running joke two stubborn prodigies learning to slow down because of each other.
Yuri Katsuki
Yuri notices everything about you even before you do. The moment you start favoring one leg or wincing slightly during landings, his brows pinch behind his glasses. He doesn’t say anything right away; instead, he quietly watches you try to push through it, hoping you’ll stop on your own before he has to step in.
You rarely do. That’s when he sighs, sets down his water bottle, and glides over to you mid-practice. “You’re limping again,” he says softly, not as a critique but as a confession of worry. He’s not trying to embarrass you, but his concern always slips through his tone.
He’s the kind of partner who will lecture you while tending to your injury: wrapping a bandage around your knee, icing your ankle, gently scolding you under his breath. “You can’t outperform gravity, you know,” he says with a small, fond smile, his voice trembling just slightly because he hates seeing you in pain.
If you shrug it off say something like, “It’s just a sprain, I’ll be fine by tomorrow,” he looks at you for a long, silent moment before sighing again. “That’s what you said last week.” Then, he tucks a blanket around you anyway, because Yuri Katsuki is powered more by quiet persistence than confrontation. You’ve learned that his stubbornness can rival your own.
Whenever you’re forced to rest, Yuri sits near you, laptop open, analyzing both his and your previous performances. He mutters small notes to himself, sometimes asking your opinion mid-analysis. It’s his way of helping you feel still useful and part of the process even while you can’t train.
You often catch him trying to trade places with you emotionally taking on your frustration as if he could bear it for you. When you pout about missing ice time, he tells you it’s okay to rest, but his expression betrays that he’s feeling your disappointment in his chest too.
During recovery days, he insists you at least join him at the rink to watch him skate. He does this partly because he knows you get restless, but also because your presence steadies him. He skates smoother when you’re watching, even when he pretends it’s not about you.
Sometimes, after practice, you catch him looking at you with a soft, worried fondness. “You remind me of myself,” he admits once, voice barely louder than the echo of skates on ice. “Too scared to stop, but forgetting that resting isn’t failing.”
You tease him that he sounds like Victor when he says things like that, and he blushes, but secretly, he hopes that one day, you’ll take his advice the same way he learned to take Victor’s: as love disguised as patience.
Yuri Plisetsky
You’re always moving sprinting from practice to practice, pushing your body way beyond its limits. To you, pain just means you’re “progressing.” To Yuri, it means you’re being a “reckless idiot.” He’ll lecture you mid-ice, arms crossed, pointing out that “even cats know when to stop before they break something.”
Whenever you show up to training with a limp or wrapped wrist, Yuri immediately gets irritated not because he doesn’t care, but because he cares too much. You can practically see the vein in his forehead twitching as he mutters, “Are you trying to destroy your career?”
He’ll pretend he doesn’t notice your injuries at first. But later? You’ll find he’s swapped your skates with a pair that have been slightly dulled to prevent you from pushing too hard, or told Yakov you should “focus on flexibility” for the week (his code for: you’re benched until I say so).
If you’re nursing a serious sprain, Yuri will make a huge show of being annoyed grumbling about how he “has better things to do than babysit a stubborn maniac.” Yet he’ll be the first one dragging you to ice baths, cooking you food because “you can’t move anyway,” and checking if you’re doing your stretches correctly.
You try to hide pain from him, but he’s unbelievably perceptive. The moment your landing falters or your spin shortens a millisecond, he’ll call you out. “You’re slowing down. Are you hurt again?” And you know there’s no point lying.
Despite his bluster, Yuri sees himself in you someone burning to prove their worth, terrified of falling behind. When you ignore your injuries, he doesn’t just get angry; he gets scared. You remind him that even the most talented skaters can break themselves if they never pause.
If you actually let him take care of you (which takes a lot), he softens dramatically. He sits beside you while you ice your ankle, scrolling on his phone but occasionally nudging your shoulder. “Don’t get used to this. Next time, I’m gonna make you wear a helmet or something,” he mutters which, in Yuri-speak, means please stop hurting yourself.
He finds your drive inspiring even if it infuriates him. When he watches you skate after recovery, there’s a spark of admiration in his eyes. He won’t say it aloud, but later you’ll hear him quietly bragging to Otabek: “They are insane. But they never quits. I respect that.”
When you finally start learning to rest, you catch him disguising his pride with insults: “Wow, you’re actually using your brain for once. Miracles do happen.” But his smirk is softer, his tone warmer. You’ve earned his trust and his quiet relief.
Phichit Chulanont
Phichit notices your limp before you do. You’re still stretching, insisting it’s just tightness, but he’s already crossing the rink with that concerned grin camera in hand, because he’s definitely about to take a “Day One of You Being Stubborn” selfie.
He doesn’t scold you, even when your coach does. His approach is soft but firm. “You don’t need to prove you’re unstoppable,” he says while gently untying your skates. “Everyone already knows you are.”
He becomes your unofficial physical therapist. Ice packs, compression wraps, warm towels from the vending machine at the rink Phichit has them all ready like it’s part of a routine. He even labels the ice packs ‘For Disaster You’ in Sharpie.
You hate sitting still, so Phichit brings the world to you. When you’re benched, he FaceTimes everyone at the rink and starts a chaotic livestream with commentary like, “And here’s our local hurricane pretending that they are not injured again!”
He secretly times your recovery periods just so he can make progress slideshows. You protest when he shows you, but secretly love how much detail he puts in. “See?” he says, swiping through pictures, “you recovered faster this time because you actually rested one day longer.”
When you push yourself too far and end up barely able to move, Phichit doesn’t get angry. He just sighs, smiles, and sits beside you, phone raised for another goofy selfie captioned ‘Still faster than logic.’ Then he takes your hand and says, “You can’t catch your next goal if you burn yourself out before you get there.”
Despite your tendency to overwork, he never makes you feel weak for needing rest. Instead, he reframes it like another form of training: “Recovery is a skill too, you know. You’re just bad at that event,” he teases, helping you lie down and tucking your jacket around you.
During joint practice sessions, he keeps pace with you sometimes racing, sometimes deliberately slowing you down with chatter about Thailand, new filters, or random skating trivia. You realize later that it’s his way of giving you unplanned breaks without having to argue you into them.
After each injury, he makes you a “comeback reel” with clips of your best moments. It’s never overly sentimental just full of energy, edits, and that signature Phichit brightness, but it always hits you deep. You start to see rest not as losing time, but as recharging your highlight reel.
He once made a rule: if you have to ice an injury, he gets to choose a movie. The result? An entire series of Thai comedies and silly animated films you end up watching together, your leg propped up while Phichit steals your blanket halfway through.
He tells you often, “You don’t have to go fast to be amazing.” And the way he says it quietly, without his usual playfulness makes you believe him, even if part of you still aches to prove you’re unstoppable.
On your good days, when you finally skate pain-free again, Phichit cheers louder than anyone. He films it, of course then immediately runs over, sweeping you into a ridiculous spin before you can protest. “See?” he grins, eyes sparkling. “Worth the wait.”
As you sifted through your pockets trying to find the key, however, a warm hand tapped on your shoulder, startling you; with a yelp, you turned around and found yourself staring into Phichit Chulanont’s eyes.
The corners of them crinkled as he smiled brightly, a soft chuckle drifting from his lips. “Sorry,” he started, his accent nothing more than a leaning suggestion of vowels and rhythm, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Pairing: Phichit Chulanont/Reader
Word Count: 1,370
Summary: You didn't always have a crush on Phichit Chulanont. Then you watched him leap up in joy, tears welling in his sparkly brown eyes, in the kiss-and-cry after he'd scored high enough to take Thailand to the World Figure Skating Championships—and boom, you'd been a certified PhiChu fan ever since. You never expected to meet him in person, let alone skate with him. But life has a funny way of surprising you...
Read the full fic on Ao3!
Author notes below the cut. :3
This is the last (for now lol) import from my old deviantART. I love Phichit so much, he’s so cute and pure. Also HIS HAMSTERS ARE ADORABLE.
Ohh yuuri on ice writer!!! Would you be up for Phichit with his S/O who is really self concious and really hates to takie selfies, so either he tries to convience them to takie selfies together or suffer alone?? If that makes sense- (can be headcanons or anything youd like!! :3c)
So sweet! I gotchu honey, thank you for the request❤️
Phichit with an s/o who hates taking selfies
In the beginning of the relationship, he’d think that he somehow manages to just ask in the wrong time
By that i mean, he think that he always asks you for a selfie when you’re in a bad mood, and that’s why you refuse to take a pic
Some time passes and he gets another idea: What if you don’t KNOW how to take a selfie?
He tries to teach you some posing, smiling, all sort of couple things, but ends up kind of disappointed
After getting to know eachother more, he figures that you’re not really fond of selfies, but doesn’t understand why
If you tell him that you’re not confident enough for selfies, he immidiately feels guilty for trying to force it on you
Do tell him it’s not his fault, or else he’d feel guilty to even open the camera app on his phone.
But don’t let your guard down! There’s no way he won’t have pictures of you in his gallery!
He’d take any opportunity to take a picture of you, sometimes without you noticing
When you laugh while scrolling trough your phone, when you’re lost in thought while staring at something, when you sleep, he’ll most definately snap a pic!
Hii! Can I request the sfw x reader list for Phichit Chulanont! Dying from lack of x reader content about him XP
A/N: Hi lovely. I am happy to do this. I honestly think Phichit deserves more love. I hope you enjoy this.
Yuri on Ice SFW Alphabet: Phichit Chulanont.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Phichit's affection is as bright and uninhibited as his personality—he's the friend who expresses love without hesitation or self-consciousness. With you, he's constantly finding excuses for physical contact: slinging an arm around your shoulders, grabbing your hands in excitement, or leaning against you while scrolling through his phone to show you something. His affection manifests in how he bombards your social media with candid photos of the two of you together, captioning them with inside jokes and heart emojis that make you smile despite yourself. When he's particularly fond of something you've done, he'll squeal your name in that distinctive Phichit way, eyes crinkling with genuine delight as he pulls you into an enthusiastic hug. Even from across continents, he maintains connection through random texts checking in on you, late-night video calls where he falls asleep with his phone propped against his pillow, and care packages filled with Thai snacks and trinkets he "just knew you'd love." What makes his affection special is how naturally it comes to him—never calculated or performative, just the honest expression of someone who believes friendship and love should be celebrated loudly and often.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Being Phichit's best friend means never having a dull moment in your life. From the very first time you meet him at a local skating event where he's performing, he spots you in the crowd and somehow manages to pull you into a selfie during his victory lap. His infectious smile and genuine interest in your life make it impossible not to be drawn to him. Phichit remembers everything you tell him—from your favorite Thai dish to that embarrassing story about your childhood pet—and he texts you memes at 3 AM that are somehow perfectly tailored to your sense of humor. When you're feeling down, he shows up at your door with bubble tea and street food, ready to binge-watch "The King and the Skater" for the hundredth time. His apartment becomes your second home, plastered with photos of the two of you alongside his beloved hamsters, who he insists know your name.
Your friendship with Phichit begins when you volunteer at an ice skating exhibition in Bangkok. You're assigned to help with social media coverage, and Phichit immediately takes you under his wing, showing you the best angles for photos and introducing you to everyone. After the event, he invites you to get food with some of the skaters, and by the end of the night, you've somehow agreed to join him for morning practice "just to hang out." Soon, you're part of his daily routine—watching him practice, helping him brainstorm music for new programs, and being his unofficial photographer. He convinces you to try skating yourself, holding your hands as you wobble across the ice, both of you laughing uncontrollably. Before long, you're accompanying him to competitions abroad, becoming his loyal cheerleader and the person he FaceTimes immediately after every performance. With Phichit, friendship isn't just about sharing experiences—it's about building a world together where both of you shine brighter because of the other's presence.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Phichit absolutely loves to cuddle. It comes as naturally to him as his bright smile and selfie-taking. When you're feeling down, he notices immediately and pulls you into a warm embrace without hesitation. His time in Detroit's cold winters taught him the value of shared warmth, and his naturally affectionate personality means physical touch is one of his favorite ways to express care. He's the type to casually drape himself across you while scrolling through Instagram, humming Thai pop songs under his breath. The best part is how he makes cuddling feel so effortless—there's never any awkwardness with Phichit, just genuine comfort and connection.
When Phichit cuddles you, he becomes a human koala—all warm limbs and cheerful energy wrapped around you. He likes to be the big spoon surprisingly often, resting his chin on your shoulder to show you funny skating videos or hamster memes on his phone. His hands are always warm despite spending so much time on ice, and he often absentmindedly traces patterns on your arm while talking excitedly about his latest skating program or his hamsters' antics. During movie nights, he pulls you close against his chest, occasionally taking sneaky selfies of you both looking cozy that inevitably end up on his Instagram with heart emojis. Phichit's cuddles feel like being wrapped in sunshine—warm, genuine, and full of his irrepressible joy.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Phichit absolutely dreams of settling down with you, though his vision of "settling down" still pulses with energy and life. He imagines a cozy apartment filled with hamster cages, walls decorated with photos of your adventures together, and weekend trips to Thailand to visit his family. When you're both not training, he loves planning your future together, showing you pictures of houses in Bangkok with garden spaces where you could practice choreography together. "We could have a housewarming livestream!" he often suggests, eyes sparkling with excitement. Despite his busy competition schedule, he makes sure to video call you daily when traveling, because to Phichit, building a life with you is his gold medal dream.
In the kitchen, Phichit is surprisingly competent, having picked up cooking skills from his mother and perfected them during his time sharing an apartment with Yuuri. His specialty is Thai cuisine, and he takes immense pride in teaching you how to balance the perfect tom yum soup. Cleaning, however, is where his focus wavers - he starts with good intentions but often gets distracted halfway through, finding an old photo album or stopping to take "before and after" pictures for Instagram. You've lost count of how many times you've returned home to find him sitting cross-legged on the half-swept floor, surrounded by scattered cleaning supplies while he edits the perfect filter for his "cleaning day" post. Still, his enthusiastic "Look, I tried!" smile makes it impossible to be anything but charmed.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?
If Phichit had to break up with you, he'd do it with the same genuine kindness that defines everything else he does. He wouldn't text or call—he'd ask to meet at that little café where you first shared bubble tea together, his usual smile dimmed but not entirely gone. Phichit would take your hands across the table, his dark gray eyes meeting yours directly because he respects you too much to look away during such an important conversation. He'd speak honestly about his demanding skating schedule taking him across continents, about how he needs to focus entirely on bringing figure skating recognition in Thailand, and how unfair it feels to keep you waiting while he chases his dreams. He wouldn't make empty promises or drag things out—his optimistic nature means he believes in clean breaks and new beginnings. After explaining everything, he'd show you the scrapbook he made of your relationship photos (because of course Phichit documented everything), giving it to you as a parting gift. And despite the tears in his eyes, he'd still offer to stay friends—not as an empty gesture, but because he genuinely values your place in his life, even if it has to change.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Commitment doesn't scare Phichit in the slightest—in fact, he dives into it with the same enthusiasm he brings to the ice. You've noticed how his eyes light up whenever he talks about your future together, already planning trips to Thailand to meet his family and show you his favorite spots in Bangkok. The way he documents your relationship milestones on social media isn't just for likes; it's because he genuinely treasures these moments and wants the world to witness his happiness with you. When he proposed, it wasn't a surprise that he had Celestino and some rinkmates hiding nearby to capture the moment—your Phichit has always believed that love is meant to be celebrated openly and joyfully.
Marriage wouldn't be a long engagement for Phichit—he'd be ready within months, eager to start this new chapter together. "Why wait when you're sure?" he'd tell you with that infectious smile, already scrolling through venue options on his phone. The only thing that might extend your timeline would be his competitive skating schedule, as he'd want to properly plan around competitions and training camps. He dreams of a ceremony that blends Thai traditions with elements meaningful to you both, and he's already talked about choreographing a special exhibition skate as his wedding gift. Don't be surprised if he suggests having the ceremony right after Worlds when everyone can attend—Phichit's never been one to hesitate when his heart is set on something.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
You notice Phichit's gentleness in the small, everyday moments you share together – the way he carefully adjusts your costume before a performance with nimble fingers that have mastered both intricate step sequences and the art of applying perfect eyeliner. Despite his boundless energy and enthusiasm, he knows exactly when to soften his voice and approach, especially when you're having a difficult day at practice. His emotional intuition is remarkable; he can sense your anxiety before competitions without you saying a word, offering reassurance through subtle gestures like a light touch on your shoulder or sliding your favorite Thai snack across the table with that signature warm smile. What makes Phichit's gentleness truly special is how he balances it with unwavering honesty – he'll kindly but firmly remind you of your potential when self-doubt creeps in, never letting you spiral while still acknowledging your feelings as valid. In a sport as physically and mentally demanding as figure skating, his compassionate presence creates a safe harbor of understanding that feels as natural to him as landing a perfect spin.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Phichit absolutely lives for hugs, seeing them as the perfect way to capture genuine connection beyond what even his beloved selfies can show. He's naturally tactile, offering hugs as greetings, congratulations, goodbyes, and sometimes just because you look like you could use one. When Phichit hugs you, it's surprising how someone so compact can envelop you so completely—his arms wrapping around with enthusiastic warmth that somehow never feels overwhelming. You notice he hugs with his whole being; there's a gentle squeeze that communicates volumes, his familiar scent of coconut hair product and the faint chill of the ice rink still clinging to his training clothes. What makes his hugs special is how present he is in them—no checking his phone or looking over your shoulder for something more interesting—in that moment, you're the entire focus of his sunshine-bright attention, and you can feel the genuine happiness radiating from him at simply having you there.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Phichit doesn't hesitate with the L-word because emotions are meant to be celebrated, not hidden. He says it within weeks of dating you, his eyes bright with sincerity as he takes your hand between selfies during a night out exploring Bangkok's street markets. The words tumble out naturally, accompanied by that sunshine smile that lights up his entire face. He's been thinking it since the third date when you listened attentively to his dreams about Thai figure skating, and he's been hinting at it through heart emojis flooding your messages and late-night calls when he's away competing. For Phichit, love isn't something to build walls around—it's as shareable as his Instagram stories, as authentic as his skating, and waiting only makes the feeling fade when it could be brightening both your days instead.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Phichit isn't typically the jealous type—his natural optimism and confidence usually keep insecurities at bay—but when he does feel that twinge of jealousy, it manifests in subtle ways you've learned to recognize. His social media activity spikes noticeably as he posts more selfies of the two of you together, almost as if digitally staking his claim. You notice his bright smile tightens slightly when others flirt with you, and he becomes more physically affectionate—an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours, or his head resting on your shoulder while you talk to someone else. Rather than making a scene, he'll later scroll through his phone showing you memes and Thai videos, keeping your attention firmly on him. When particularly bothered, he might casually mention shared memories or inside jokes in group settings, reminding everyone of your special connection. What Phichit would never admit is how he later scrolls through your pictures together when you're asleep, reassuring himself that your smile is brightest when it's directed at him.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Phichit's kisses are as bright and enthusiastic as his personality, always accompanied by that signature smile that lights up his entire face. He loves surprising you with quick, playful pecks when you're scrolling through social media together, but when you're alone, his kisses become more tender and deliberate, as if he's savoring every moment. Phichit adores kissing your forehead when you're tired after watching him practice, your cheeks when he's excited about nailing a new routine, and the tip of your nose just to make you laugh. What melts him completely, though, is when you kiss the sensitive spot behind his ear or the corner of his mouth right before he performs—little gestures that ground him and remind him that no matter how many fans cheer for him in Bangkok or across the world, you're his biggest supporter. He blushes every time you praise his skating with kisses, and has admitted that knowing you're watching from the sidelines makes him skate with even more heart than when he's representing Thailand.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Phichit absolutely lights up around children, his natural cheerfulness amplifying as he crouches down to their level with that signature warm smile you fell in love with. You've lost count of how many times you've watched him patiently teaching little ones the basics at the Bangkok rink, his eyes crinkling with delight when they master even the simplest move. "Everyone remembers their first time on the ice," he whispers to you, snapping countless photos of the children's wobbly attempts before showing them their own progress with enthusiastic praise. The way he seamlessly incorporates Thai culture into his interactions—whether telling traditional stories during breaks or introducing them to Thai snacks—makes your heart swell, especially when he starts impromptu dance sessions that inevitably end with everyone giggling. At night, he sometimes scrolls through the day's photos beside you, planning elaborate ice shows where the kids can participate, his voice soft but excited as he says, "They're the future of skating in Thailand, you know?" and you can't help but think what an amazing father he would be someday.
Mornings with Phichit are bursts of sunlight and endless energy. You're barely awake when he's already scrolling through social media, his legs tangled with yours as he excitedly shares comments from fans or skating news. He insists on at least one "good morning selfie" together before either of you leave the bed—your sleepy face next to his perfectly winged eyeliner and bright smile becoming a regular feature on his Instagram. Breakfast is a delightful mix of Thai dishes he's teaching you to love and whatever new recipe he's discovered online, all while he chatters about his training plans or shows you videos of hamsters doing cute things. On training days, he's organized chaos—packing his gear while simultaneously brewing coffee for you both, stealing quick kisses as he darts around the apartment. The most endearing part is how he always leaves you small notes with little drawings when he has early practice, and how he never fails to text you a selfie from the rink with the caption "Missing you already! 💕" before your own day has properly begun.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Nights with Phichit are never boring, filled with spontaneous dance parties in your shared apartment and impromptu Thai cooking lessons where he insists you taste-test every stage of his mom's secret tom yum recipe. He loves ending busy days by scrolling through Instagram together, his head on your shoulder as he shows you funny comments from fans or Yuuri's latest posts, occasionally turning to snap a sleepy selfie with you that's "too cute not to share." When he's anxious about upcoming competitions, you stay up watching his favorite Thai movies, the ones he grew up with that nobody else understands his references to, and he teaches you phrases in Thai between whispered stories about his childhood rink in Bangkok. The best nights, though, are when he comes home exhausted from practice, eye makeup slightly smudged, collapsing dramatically beside you only to suddenly brighten with creative inspiration for a new program, pulling you up to dance through his ideas, his eyes sparkling in the dim light until you both finally fall asleep tangled together, his phone inevitably clutched in one hand ready for morning selfies.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Phichit shares his life in vibrant bursts, like his Instagram feed—colorful, frequent, and seemingly transparent. From the moment you started dating, he eagerly showed you his medal collection, childhood skating videos, and endless selfies with rinkmates. Yet you've come to notice there's a careful curation to what he reveals. While he'll enthusiastically tell stories about training with Yuuri in Detroit or his dreams of building Thailand's figure skating legacy, the deeper vulnerabilities—his moments of doubt before competitions, the pressure he feels representing his country, the loneliness of being away from home—these emerge only in quiet moments, when the phone is set aside and it's just the two of you wrapped in blankets at 2 AM.
You've learned that Phichit's openness operates in layers. The surface level—his favorite Thai foods, skating gossip, funny stories about Celestino's coaching methods—flows freely from day one, accompanied by that bright smile that first drew you in. But the weightier parts of himself—childhood insecurities, fears about his skating future, the sacrifices his family made for his career—these he reveals gradually, testing the waters with each confession. It's not that he doesn't trust, but rather that he values these deeper connections too much to rush them. When he finally showed you the worn stuffed hamster he's kept since age six, or admitted how terrified he was before performing "Shall We Skate" for the first time, you understood these weren't just stories—they were pieces of himself he was entrusting to you alone, treasures far more precious than any selfie he'd ever shared online.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Phichit rarely gets truly angry with you, his natural optimism making him one of the most patient people you've ever known. When you mess up or say something thoughtless, he typically responds with gentle teasing or a quick selfie to capture your embarrassed expression rather than harsh words. The only times you've seen genuine frustration flash across his normally cheerful face is when someone dismisses figure skating in Thailand or when his hamsters are disturbed during their nap time. Even then, his anger manifests not as shouting but as a sudden, uncharacteristic quietness, his usual smile tightening at the edges while he collects himself. You've learned that the fastest way to restore his sunny disposition is to sit beside him scrolling through his Instagram feed, genuinely asking about each photo until the tension melts away and he's excitedly planning your next adventure together, his momentary irritation completely forgotten.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Phichit remembers everything important to you with remarkable clarity, not because he has a photographic memory, but because he genuinely cares. That throwaway comment about your childhood pet goldfish? He'll reference it months later when sending you a snap of the koi pond at his favorite Bangkok café. Your offhand mention of loving mango sticky rice becomes a tradition whenever you visit, with Phichit eagerly dragging you to his "absolute favorite spot, trust me!" He might forget exactly which movie you said you hated, but he'll never forget your birthday, the names of your siblings, or how you take your coffee. When you're feeling down, he somehow knows exactly which old inside joke will make you laugh again.
Your Instagram feed becomes Phichit's personal study guide to your life. He'll scroll back through your posts from years ago during late-night practice breaks, memorizing the details that matter to you. "Wasn't this your favorite restaurant in college?" he'll text with a photo of a similar place he found in Bangkok. Yet ironically, despite his social media obsession, he sometimes misses details you tell him face-to-face when he's distracted by the perfect selfie lighting or choreography ideas. You'll mention a new job prospect or apartment hunt, only to have him text you days later asking excitedly about that "thing you mentioned" with only the vaguest recollection of what it actually was. But he always remembers to check in, and that's what matters most.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Your phone lights up with yet another notification—Phichit is sharing that photo again, the one he swears is his absolute favorite moment between you two. It was taken during that surprise trip to Thailand when you secretly arranged for him to perform his "The King and the Skater" routine at his childhood rink in Bangkok. He still talks about how he caught you filming him from the sidelines with tears in your eyes, and immediately dragged you onto the ice for an impromptu pairs skate that ended with both of you laughing and falling in a tangled heap. "The best part wasn't even the skating," he always tells anyone who will listen, his face bright with that signature smile as he shows them the selfie he somehow managed to take right when you both hit the ice, your expressions caught between surprise and pure joy. "It was realizing someone finally loved Thailand and skating as much as I did—even if they couldn't land a toe loop to save their life."
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Phichit's protective nature manifests in the lightest, most cheerful ways that perfectly match his personality. He'd never hover or become overly possessive, but his watchful eyes don't miss a thing when you're uncomfortable at skating events or fan meetups. With a practiced ease that comes from years of navigating the competitive skating world, he'll swoop in with his infectious smile, linking his arm through yours while smoothly guiding you away with an excuse about needing your opinion on his latest selfie pose. His protection extends to your online presence too—he's the first to report negative comments on your social media and will flood your notifications with supportive messages and cute Thai phrases he's teaching you whenever you're feeling down. When you both visit Thailand, his protective side becomes more evident as he navigates you through Bangkok's busy streets with a gentle hand at the small of your back, proudly introducing you to everyone important in his life while always checking in with a whispered "Are you okay?" when no one else can hear.
What surprises many is how much this seemingly carefree skater cherishes being protected in return. Despite his confident exterior, Phichit melts when you stand up for him to overzealous fans or critics who underestimate his contributions to figure skating. He loves when you remember small details—having his favorite Thai snacks ready after difficult practices, creating a quiet space for him when social media becomes overwhelming, or simply being the steady presence he can return to after the exhaustion of maintaining his perpetually positive public persona. After particularly rough competitions, he'll curl against your side, phone temporarily forgotten, while you run fingers through his hair and assure him that his dream of bringing ice shows to Thailand is getting closer every day. Your unwavering belief in him becomes the security he never knew he needed—a private sanctuary where the boy who's always encouraging others can finally lower his bright smile and just be himself.
Phichit puts his whole heart into your relationship, approaching it with the same enthusiasm and dedication he shows on the ice. For dates, he meticulously plans Instagram-worthy adventures—from surprise picnics at your favorite park to taking you to hidden Thai restaurants where he proudly explains each dish, always capturing the perfect selfie to commemorate the moment. When it comes to anniversaries, expect him to go all out with thoughtfully curated experiences that often incorporate skating—perhaps a private midnight skate decorated with fairy lights or tickets to see his skating idol perform. Gift-giving is where Phichit truly shines; he pays attention to your offhand comments about things you like and presents you with items you mentioned months ago, each one wrapped beautifully and accompanied by a handwritten note in both English and Thai phrases he's teaching you. As for everyday tasks, while his demanding training schedule sometimes means dishes pile up or laundry gets delayed, he makes up for it by being the one who always remembers to water the plants, stock your favorite snacks, and leave encouraging sticky notes on the bathroom mirror when he knows you have a challenging day ahead—and of course, your home is filled with framed photos of your happiest moments together that he's carefully selected and printed from his thousands of pictures.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Living with Phichit means accepting that your most unflattering sleeping expressions will inevitably end up on his Instagram, as his compulsive need to document every moment means privacy is practically nonexistent. You've lost count of how many times you've had to confiscate his phone during meals because he can't resist checking notifications or staging the perfect food shot while everything gets cold. His enthusiasm for showing you "just one more" Thai drama episode regularly turns into marathon viewing sessions that wreck your sleep schedule before important days. The hamster cages, despite his protests that he'll clean them "tomorrow," often go neglected until the smell becomes impossible to ignore. And despite being meticulous about his skating gear, his everyday belongings create chaos across your shared space—clothes draped over furniture, half-empty water bottles on every surface, and charging cables perpetually tangled and borrowed without asking.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
You've always found it adorable how Phichit balances confidence with vanity in the most charming way possible. While he's never obsessive about his appearance, he definitely has his routines that you've learned never to rush—the perfect winged eyeliner that takes three attempts to get symmetrical, the careful styling of his fringe that he insists falls differently "depending on the humidity," and the countless selfies he takes to find just the right angle that captures his smile. You've lost count of how many times you've held his phone while he adjusts the lighting or coaches you on getting his "good side" (though you insist every side is his good side). What makes his attention to appearance endearing rather than frustrating is how it's wrapped up in his performance mindset—looking good makes him feel good, which helps him skate better. And you can't deny the results when he steps onto the ice, hair combed back, costume gleaming, confidence radiating from every perfectly presented inch of him.o
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Phichit wouldn't say he feels incomplete without you, but rather that you enhance everything that already makes him whole. The way his eyes light up when you appear at the rink speaks volumes—like capturing the perfect selfie, your presence makes everything better. While his skating career and friends form the foundation of his life, you've become the person he immediately texts when he lands a quad or finds a new hamster-themed accessory. During late-night FaceTime calls after competitions, he confesses that sharing Thailand with you—introducing you to his favorite Bangkok street food vendors who know him by name, teaching you Thai phrases beyond what he taught Yuuri—has given him a new appreciation for home. "I was happy before you," he'd tell you with that signature sunshine smile, squeezing your hand while scrolling through his Instagram feed full of pictures of you both, "but I'm happier creating memories with someone who gets both my worlds."
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Phichit always wakes up earlier than you just to capture your sleepy face for his Instagram, claiming your bedhead is "too cute not to document." When you're feeling down, he creates elaborate Thai dishes he learned from his mother, insisting good food fixes everything. Your phone is filled with countless surprise selfies he's taken of the two of you, and he's taught you enough Thai that his followers now lovingly refer to you as his "faen sŭay" (beautiful partner). On competition days, he has a ritual of sending you a private video message performing a tiny segment of his routine just for you, always ending with a wink and his signature phrase, "Watch me shine for Thailand... and for you." Despite his social butterfly nature, he treasures quiet evenings when you both build blanket forts and watch his favorite Thai films with subtitles, though he'll pause constantly to explain cultural nuances you might miss.
Extra headcanon: Phichit secretly keeps a handwritten journal rather than documenting everything digitally—it contains pressed flowers from every city he's competed in and ticket stubs from every date you've ever had.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Despite his sunny disposition, Phichit can't stand it when you downplay your accomplishments or speak negatively about yourself—he's spent too much time building you up to watch you tear yourself down. He wrinkles his nose at people who refuse to try new foods or experiences, as he believes life is meant to be savored in all its flavors. You've learned that pessimism exhausts him quickly; while he's patient with your bad days, constant negativity drains the light from his eyes. Though extremely social, he dislikes partners who demand all his attention and try to pull him away from his skating dreams or close friendships, especially with Yuuri. Phichit also has a surprising aversion to generic tourist attractions and chain restaurants when traveling—he'd rather you both explore authentic local spots that tell the real story of a place. He secretly gets frustrated when you don't understand his passionate rambles about Thai culture or skating, not because you don't know, but if you don't make an effort to learn what matters to him.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Phichit falls asleep surprisingly quickly for someone so energetic during the day, often scrolling through Instagram until his eyes get heavy, then setting his phone aside to curl against you. You've gotten used to his particular sleep habits - the way he always starts the night with a respectable distance between you but inevitably migrates closer, drawn to your warmth like a moth to flame. By morning, he's practically draped across your chest, one leg thrown over yours, face nuzzled into your neck. He mumbles in Thai sometimes, soft sleepy words you're slowly learning to understand. On competition nights, he's restless, his body processing jumps and spins even in sleep, but your hand running through his hair always settles him. What you love most is how he wakes - gradually, with a smile already forming, taking a sleepy selfie of your tangled limbs before properly saying good morning with a kiss to your forehead and a cheerful "morning, sunshine!" regardless of how early it is.
