#lyotsar

Send me ♡ + a word, and I’ll write a headcanon !!! || accepting !!!

         chris speaks german, english & french ! he has a basic understanding of italian, but isn’t fluent enough to hold a conversation? he can recognize a few romansh words, but he only knows the most basic things like… ‘ i can’t understand ‘ or variations of that. i also do headcanon that he knows a very limited amount of russian, but it’s mostly because of a headcanon i had on another blog. i hc’d that viktor would be very adamant about teaching chris a small amount of russian??? ( but if i roleplay with someone who doesn’t feel that, i’m also okay w/ that ) but like —- chris isn’t good at speaking it. it’s heavily accented & he doesn’t remember half the words he knows most of the time. 

he grew up in a german-speaking part of switzerland, but his mother spoke french a lot at home so he grew very comfortable with those two languages. he learned english in school & had a very basic understanding for a while — when he started competing more competitively, he learned the language quite a bit better so he could communicate with his other competitors? 

             ‘ DAMN your memory. i only recall your memory being an issue when convenient for you.  

&. | lilo & stich

          ‘ REALLY ? were you really, viktor ? because that sounds like some high expectation - no pressure or anything.

colorful sarcasm dripped from his voice with little concern as green eyes peered wearily around the corner of the brick wall. absently, fingers tugged down the brim of the straw hat he had stolen from an unsuspecting tourist — frankly, this wasn’t how he had been planning on spending his afternoon, either … but here he was, stolen hat perched on his head & sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

with lips slanted down, he spun on his heel to face his elder, who held the yellow baseball cap & plastic sunglasses yuri had shoved into his hand before encouraging him to make a run for it  … despite the increasingly heavy pedestrian traffic. the press & yuri’s angels were a fearsome bunch, truthfully. 

that was not an exaggeration.

@lyotsar

It's once the boxes are all tucked into a corner of the living room that Yuuri lets himself finally breathe and take in his surroundings.

It shouldn't feel that strange, being in this apartment. Yuuri's lived with Viktor all those days at Yu-topia, has shared hotel room after hotel room with his coach-turned-rival-and-still-coach. But there's something deeply intimate with the notion of being in a space that is uniquely Viktor's, well and truly living here. He's almost scared to touch anything lest he change anything out of its original configuration.

Deeper down, there's another urge: something more visceral, territorial. The idea of leaving traces of himself, of signs he's here too, the two of them alone in shared space. Yuuri casts a curious gaze at the kitchen, with its sleek and minimalistic décor. Like something out of an interior design magazine, maybe. He should have known Viktor does everything in style. In spite of this, it feels foreign; Yuuri’s mind struggles, still, to reconcile everything he's known with the reality that he's genuinely here to stay. So Yuuri turns to the one familiar thing in this space: the man himself. He sags a little against Viktor's side, resting his head a bit on Viktor's shoulder, fingers tentatively reaching out to curl at the edge of the man’s sleeve.

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👙 - our muses are enjoying a day on the beach.

heat hits his back in warm waves, leaves him burying his face into his folded arms as he breathes in the crisp sea air, and listens to the seagulls calling overhead. the day can only be describe as perfect--verging on dream like. there is a cool sea breeze brushing past in gentle waves, the sun is high in the sky, illuminating the beach, and the tide is coming in at the perfect height, and providing the perfect contrast to the day’s warmth. 

while makkaccin and viktor occupied themselves in the sea, yuuri opted to recline on the sand, watching his fiance with a fond smile on his face. yuuri hadn’t realized how much he had needed a vacation day, but now that it was here and they were relaxing, yuuri wasn’t quite sure he wanted to go back home. idly he wondered how viktor would feel about buying a house on the beach, or at the very least a vacation home, and was so caught in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the russian coming up behind him until he felt viktor’s fingers smoothing over the tanned expanse of yuuri’s back.

the walk home was quiet, no words passed between them. this left yuuri with ample time to let his mind race, trucking A MILE A MINUTE as it worked to compute everything that had happened that night. if he wasn’t able to feel the ring on his own hand to be reminded of the existence of it, he might have started to believe that the whole thing was a dream--but it felt too REAL against his skin, leading him to only one conclusion.

he was ENGAGED.

or, was he? part of him really couldn’t tell, and ultimately wasn’t POSITIVE whether it was an engagement or if they were just good luck charms, and viktor had been joking. his heart was pounding wildly in his chest, mind reeling--there was no way he could just let the topic drop without getting absolute confirmation about WHAT THEY WERE.

before he knew it they were taking the elevator up to their hotel room, hands balled into fists at his side as they came ever closer to CONFRONTATION. every step they took towards their room felt foreboding, and he swallowed, eyes flicking nervously to the elder man. finally crossing the threshold into the pristine room was nerve wracking, and he felt almost as though he was watching himself from the outside, working on AUTOPILOT.

❝ viktor--before you--before you shower, can we--could we talk? about--about tonight. about what we are. ❞