#halpme

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ℤ𝕒𝕔𝕜 (GADDAYUM) 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 (5/???)

𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕪 𝕍𝕀𝕀 ℝ𝕖𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙 (modded)

Does anyone get really pissed off at a canon pair of characters, not because you shipped them with other characters, but because you shipped one of them with yourself? Like, I feel so angry when I see my fave character whom I have a massive fictional crush on start kissing another character. I'm like "BACK OFF BISH HE MINE" but then I'm like "Wtf? They're fictional characters"

Title: Put that thing back where it came from (or so help me)

Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice

Pairing: Viktor Nikeforov/Yuuri Katsuki

Time-frame: Post ep-12, because that is my jam. I’m also going to hand wave away the legal issues surrounding a firm using the image of a celebrity to make profits and assume that the JSF signed off on it or something. Eh, it’s for the hilarity.

P.S. Note that this is nothing but crack. Also, that I haven’t written fanfiction in years. Please be kind to me XD

P.P.S.S. I realise, belatedly, that I’ve completely forgotten to write about Makkachin. Please do not worry - the doggo is alive and well.

The madness starts on a Sunday afternoon, with both Yuuri and Viktor watching television on the couch in their apartment in St. Petersburg. It’s their day off and thus far, it’s been a perfect day - waking up late, walking to the cafe opposite for a quick brunch, and then returning home to spend some time together. 

The television’s tuned to a Russian tv series which Yuuri, who has thus far only mastered a smattering of Russian, can’t make heads or tails of save for the fact that the lady on screen is very, very upset. But it’s alright, because for the past hour, he’s been watching Viktor, whose eyes are glued to the screen, enraptured by the show.

Viktor’s TV-watching (and Yuuri’s Viktor-watching) is interrupted by a soft “ping” sound. Tearing his eyes off the screen, Viktor slips his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, deftly unlocking it with a few swipes of his thumb. “Oh”, says Viktor, eyes widening at what he sees.

“Oh?”

Viktor turns the screen of his phone to Yuuri, mouth set in his famous heart-shaped smile. The instagram app is opened and...

Yuuri’s jaw drops.

“Amazing!” Viktor double taps the photo of a nendoroid that looks exactly like Yuuri to “like” it. “It looks just like you, Yuuri!”

Orange Rouge, as Yuuri understands it, is a firm specialising in figurines of male anime characters. He’s never bought anything from the firm, having spent most of his time practicing on the ice or watching clips of ice skating. Mari has occasionally bought a figure or two though, when she gets really into an anime series (there was this one about swimming that all the females in Yuuri’s life (and a few guys) went crazy about - it didn’t really appeal to him, but Mari loved it, so he got her a nendoroid of that “Haruka” fellow anyway).

So, Yuuri knows who these people are. What he does’t get is why there’s now a figure of him.

“It’s their National Day special!” Yuuko enthuses over the phone. “To celebrate this year’s National Day, Orange Rouge is making figures of our top athletes! That -” and Yuuri can literally hear her narrowing her eyes, “includes you, Mr Top-Male-Skater-Of-Japan.”

Yuuri bites back the usual spiel on him being one of the dime-a-dozen figures certified by the JSF. “It’s just... a little awkward, isn’t it? Why would people want a figure of me staring at them all the time?”

It really doesn’t help, Yuuri thinks, that of all the costumes Orange Rouge could have chosen from, they picked the Eros costume. Do small kids buy these sort of figurines? Should they be allowed to play with the costume Yuuri wore as he attempted to seduce Viktor on the ice?

Yuuri tries not to think too hard about it.

“Who wouldn’t? I certainly don’t mind. It’s so cute! Did you know that it even has a little katsudon bowl? The people at Orange Rouge know you pretty well, eh?”

Yuuri is suddenly reminded of the time where he announced that Katsudon was his eros and he covers his face with his hand, cheeks turning red to the sound of Yuuko’s gentle laughter.

So, Yuuri now knows of the little figure’s existence, and is pretty sure that Viktor will get it (Viktor, bless his sweet heart, gets all the Yuuri memorabilia he can get his paws on. It is, in his own words, his way of catching up with Yuuri, who has collected Viktor memorabilia for years). However, nothing prepares him for the sight of coming home after a few extra hours at the gym to Viktor holding the figure in one hand, using a single finger on the other to prod the figure’s ass.

“Yuuri!” Viktor says, eyes lighting up. “They got your ass correct!”

Yuuri’s soul leaves his body.

“Phichit why.”

“Sorry Yuuri! I couldn’t resist!”

Yuuri’s soul leaves his body for a second time, hands trembling around his phone. On screen, Phichit’s newest instagram photo, depicting a Yuuri Nendoroid seductively looking at a miniature picture of Viktor, hits 3,000 likes.

“Yuuri,” Phichit laughs, “you gotta admit, your thirst for Viktor Nikeforov was real.”

Yuuri walks into Yurio’s room, and then nopes out of there.

He’s not sure why Yurio has put a tiny little cat-ear headband on the Yuuri Nendoroid, nor why Yurio even has a Yuuri Nendoroid, but he doesn’t want to think too hard about it.

A week after Yuuri finds out that Yurio has bought a Yuuri Nendoroid, Christophe uploads a photo onto his official twitter, depicting his hands cupping his ass. To the side, a hand holds out the Yuuri Nendoroid, back turned to the camera.

Yuuri suspects that it’s Christophe’s boyfriend helping him to take this photo, just like when he helped Christophe and Viktor to take their rooftop pool photo in Barcelona. Yuuri would question how the poor man keeps getting drawn into taking weird photos, but he knows that feel.

Love, he surmises, makes fools of us all.

The photo is captioned “Whose ass is the best? Vote now!” There’s actually a twitter poll under the photo, and the vote is split pretty evenly.

On one hand, Yuuri can see Christophe doing things like this. On the other hand, Yuuri is done. 

Viktor comes home to Yuuri, curled up on the couch, covered entirely in a blanket. The Yuuri-Blanket-Ball is completely silent as he approaches, but softly whimpers when Viktor puts his hand on the top of it.

“It’s just... so... embarrassing” Yuuri murmurs. “I can’t imagine what people are thinking when they look at it.”

Viktor smiles, a soft, gentle expression that would never have appeared on his face a year back.

“I think they look at it, and think about how beautiful you are. How adorable you look when you’re flustered. How sweet it is when you’re happy.”

Viktor leans down, and rubs his cheek against the top of the Yuuri-Blanket-Ball. “At the very least, that’s what I think about when I look at it.”

Yuuri feels better.

“Mama no”.

“But Yuuri,” Mama Katsuki says, gesturing at the coffee with Yuuri’s face printed on top, “they’re selling so well!”

Yuuri’s soul leaves his body again.