#sinkingorswimming

AHHHH it was awesome working with @sinkingorswimming for the @yoihorrorzine! Please check out the beautifully horrifying fic here:

Dommi knows how to paint a whole world with her writing. If she’s a specialist of spicy stories, she can also bring you to tears with a poetic fairytale. Expect some quality Phichimetti content from her in the zine! 

Find Dommi at:

Tumblr: https://sinkingorswimming.tumblr.com/  Twitter: https://twitter.com/sink_or_swim AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific

Presenting @sinkingorswimming:

happy birthday dommi!! this is also sort of a promo for the fic i’m writing for @yoilitmag​, in collab with @somethingyoirelated​!

“You really should be more careful,” a sing-song voice resounds next to Viktor. He turns to see a familiar grin beaming in a familiar tan face; moments later Phichit Chulanont swings his camera bag down onto the bar and hops onto the barstool with an eager glint in his eyes. “Some unscrupulous photojournalist might stop by and find their next headline: local dating app founder possibly an alcoholic?”

“This local dating app founder has a reason to drink,” retorts Viktor, glumly swirling his chardonnay. “Have you seen what Yuuri’s wearing today?”

Phichit purses his lips. “Since I don’t live with him, no?”

Viktor takes a swig of his drink. “It’s the worst.”

Phichit tilts his head to one side. “Worst as in ‘devastatingly bad’ or ‘devastatingly good’?”

“How does someone manage to pull off glittery cashmere and flannel?” retorts Viktor, rubbing furiously at his temples. “He looked like a university prof. But like, a good one. One who desperately tries to avoid having relationships with his students, but finally succumbs to the temptations of one talented young man after his final exams…” Phichit’s sudden coughing fit jolts him back to reality. “I mean. It’s nerdy. But cute.”

“Classic Yuuri,” agrees Phichit. “I remember what he wore the first time he got interviewed for the St Lidwina Chronicle: jeans, this hilarious Engrish t-shirt, and the biggest, frumpiest grey cardigan I’d ever seen.”

“The ‘watching, of dogs’ one, right?” Viktor asks. “And it’s styled like your regular beware of dog sign?”

Phichit nods. “Has he gotten more of those shirts? His sister sometimes sends over some from Japan as gag birthday presents.”

“My favourite is the ‘kawaii is fuck’ one he got after a holiday trip back home,” Viktor admits. “It resonates with me, you know? Especially the rhinestones.”

“Have you seen the ‘Are You Nasty?’ shorts?” wonders Phichit. Viktor pauses, contemplates it.

“Not yet?”

Phichit snorts. “Good luck if you do, then,” he replies, patting Viktor’s arm. “He showed up to a Barre class wearing that once. I think half of the students passed out.”

It takes Viktor a couple minutes to realise the strangled noise is coming out of his own throat. “I’m going to die,” he whines, chugging down the rest of his wine. “He’s going to drive me into an early grave.”

“I’ve survived him,” Phichit points out. “You can do it, too!”

“That’s because you’re interested in someone else,” Viktor says, with a pointed nod towards the bartender and wine bar owner, Christophe. Said man is currently explaining the menu to some other customers. Phichit shakes his head.

“I can assure you, Yuuri was as much of a problem for me as he is for you.” He winks, claps Viktor on the shoulder. “Good luck! I believe in you.”

Viktor flips him the bird.

It’s barely a week later when Viktor finds himself knocking on the door to Phichit’s darkroom. “I brought croissants,” he says, and moments later the door swings open to reveal Phichit, smelling vaguely of chemicals as he eyes the paper bag in Viktor’s hands. “It’s a Uniqlo legging pants day.”

“Sounds terrible,” replies Phichit. Viktor holds the bag out, and he reaches in for one of the croissants and takes a large bite of it. “Does he have his cuffs rolled?”

“Yes,” says Viktor immediately. “His ankles are a bit bruised from the dancing, but they’re so beautiful.”

“That’s your weird foot thing, not mine,” says Phichit, shaking his head. “Though I do agree – Yuuri’s feet are extraordinary. You know, because he can rest his entire body weight on the tips of his toes.”

“He doesn’t go en pointe as often as others,” Viktor remarks as he bites into his croissant. “He just has to make sure not to drop his partners, which means he’s –”

“Swole as hell?” finishes Phichit. “Have you gotten him to lift the sofa yet?”

“I haven’t done anything that’d warrant that, no,” Viktor says, sighing. “It’s easy to reach under our sofa for vacuuming, anyway.”

“You can thank me later if you do manage to get him to do it,” replies Phichit, before vanishing into his darkroom again. Viktor sighs, before striding away down the hall.

A couple weeks later Phichit gets a text from him. 

It’s one word: thanks, and a picture of Yuuri’s biceps flexing as he holds up the sofa with a questioning stare, as if asking Viktor why he couldn’t just reach under like he usually does. 

Viktor also keeps a copy of that picture. For, you know, a rainy day.

Phichit comes over for dinner one evening, trailing shortly behind Christophe who’s brought a couple choice bottles of wine. “I picked up some macarons from the bakery you like,” he chirps to Yuuri as he sets down his box on the kitchen counter. Christophe is already uncorking one of his bottles. “I got a little of everything, if that’s alright.”

“How am I going to eat dinner knowing these are waiting for me?” Yuuri demands as he peers into the box, longing written plain across his face. Viktor hides a snort into his wineglass. 

The oven timer rings, and Viktor starts to shoo them out to the living room. But Phichit lingers, hovers a little behind Viktor. “Do you need any help?” he asks.

“Did you see Yuuri’s outfit?” Viktor replies as he takes the roast pork out of the oven. Phichit looks over into the living room and makes a sudden choking noise.

“Oh my god,” he says. Viktor laughs as he starts to carve the ham. “Should I congratulate you?”

“I’d like that,” replies Viktor sweetly. Phichit claps his back.

“Congrats on the sex,” he replies. “I feel slightly obligated to give you a shovel talk, but both of you are older than me and probably should know better. So just – do things that I wouldn’t do.”

Viktor snorts. “Thanks for that advice.”

“He looks better in your shirt than you ever did, by the way.” Phichit winks, pouring himself a glass of wine as he does so. Viktor finishes carving the ham and sets to work on an accompanying quiche. “It fits you, but it’s an artistic loose on him. Love it.”

“I didn’t dress him. That was his own damn fault.” Viktor smiles, and nods towards a stack of plates. “Help me set the table?”

Phichit takes a sip of wine before setting down the glass and grabbing the stack. “Seriously, though, it was about time,” he says. 

This took way too long and I’m seriously sorry for that! I hope you still enjoy it!

——-

Yuri canfeel Viktor looking at him, can feel his eyes trailing him no matter where hegoes on the ice. That in itself isn’t really the problem, the problem is thatstupid grin he has on his face while doing so. Yuri knows that grin, thatfucking self-satisfied smirk that tells him that Viktor is way too happy aboutsomething that definitely has to do with Yuri. And he hates it.

What makestoday even worse is that Yuri doesn’t even know what Viktor is so pleased about. Yuri hasn’t screwed up histraining, hasn’t flubbed any jumps or messed up any step sequences. For allYuri cares, his program is coming together nicely. Better than Katsuki’sanyway.

Yuri letshis eyes wander over the rink, skates slowly sliding over the beat-up surfaceof the Ice Castle. It’s been a long day and Yuri can’t wait for the ice to bere-surfaced. On the other side of the rink, the one furthest away from Yuri, Katsukiis just finishing one of his spins.

“Imagineentangling more with the egg!” Viktor shouts from the rink wall and Yuri canbarely contain a groan. The old man is taking the whole Katsudon metaphor waytoo far. Not that Yuri is surprised. The only good that comes out of this forhim is that he gets to watch Katsuki blush every time he calls him ‘Katsudon’ – which is always.

“Yes, Katsudon, imagine entangling more withthe egg!” Yuri shouts and feels an incredible sense of satisfaction whenKatsuki’s face turns pink and he stumbles into his step sequence instead ofsliding into it.

Yuri doesn’tneed to be near Katsuki to know that the blush starts on his cheek and thentakes over his whole face and neck. It always starts with the most delicatepink dusting before almost turning him into a lobster. Yuri always findshimself staring whenever Katsuki blushes. And as Yuri has found out, be blushesa lot. Especially when stupid Viktoris around.

“Runthrough the last part again, Yura!” Viktor calls over and Yuri can hear thatstupid grin in his voice, wider than before. What the fuck is Viktor so happyabout? Whatever it is, Yuri has to make sure he stops doing it.

“Do ityourself if you don’t like it!” Yuri shouts while kicking the ice and to hisirritation, Viktor just grins more. Yuriisn’t sure how he crosses the distance but he finds himself in front of Viktorin what feels like the blink of an eye, chest heaving in anger.

“What thefuck are you grinning about, you’re fucking creepy!” Yuri growls, doing hisbest to support his statement with a straight posture. Viktor raises an eyebrowbut Yuri can see his mouth twitching as he tries to keep a neutral expression.

“I have noidea what you are talking about,” Viktor chirps and Yuri really wants to hithim now. If there is one thing Yuri hates more than Viktor actually forgettinghis promises, it’s Viktor pretending he doesn’t know exactly what he is doing.

“Issomething wrong, Yurio?” Katsuki asks from behind Yuri and Yuri is proud thathe manages to suppress the small shiver he feels going up his spine. A reminderthat he shouldn’t be standing around too much, Yuri is sure.

“None ofyour business, Katsudon,” Yuri snapsand strangely finds his own face growing hot. He sees Katsuki blink and thenlook at Viktor with a questioning gaze. Viktor, who is downright smirking now. Yuridoesn’t need to stare at the ice below himself to know that he probably sportinga good imitation of Katsuki’s usual blush. “Just go back to failing yourfucking jumps.”

Katsukigives Yuri one more curious look but then skates off with a shrug. At least Katsukihas the sense to piss off when Yuri tells him to, without stupid grins.

Next tohim, Viktor snickers and props his elbow on the rink wall, bringing himselfdown to Yuri’s height.

“Anythingelse you want to tell me that Yuuri shouldn’t hear?” Viktor teasingly and Yurifeels his face get impossibly hotter. He knows exactly what Viktor is implying,knows that tone of voice just too well. Yuri is fairly sure that Viktor has thecompletely wrong idea but he also knows that telling him will do absolutely nothingto convince him of that.

“I fuckinghate you,” Yuri says, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste but having thedesired effect that the smile disappears from Viktor’s face.

Feelingsomewhat satisfied, Yuri skates off after gracing Katsuki with one more look. It’snot like he feels anything special for Katsuki, Viktor definitely has the wrongidea.

When Phichit pulls out the hamster hats, Yuuri has to admit that he isn’t even surprised at this point. “Please don’t tell me that your next decree as chief priest of the hamster god is that all your followers need to wear those,” he begs. Yuuri himself isn’t a member of the hamster god Hamtaro cult, but he knows people that are, and the hamster hats make every bit of his fashion major soul hurt. 

Phichit looks at him crossly. “Yuuri please, have some faith,” he says, punning without missing a beat. Yuuri rolls his eyes. “They’re for an ice show I’m planning!” 

Oh no. “Ice show...?” Yuuri starts sending up mental prayers to his own deity, the minor toy poodle dog Vladmir. 

“It’ll be called Phichit on Ice!” he exclaims, “I want to make an ice show in Thailant that will make more people want to go into figure skating!”  

‘And the hats...?” 

“I’m getting funding from Hamtaro for this, so it’s totally fair that I should pay tribute to them by making everyone wear these hats, right?” 

“Oh my god, Phichit no.”

💐 flower delivery for @sinkingorswimming! 💐 

sinkingorswimming is an amazing fic writer and i am always so excited to see updates from her <3 dommi is also just… a complete sweetheart to know so.

“The rose,” the man says to clarify. “That isn’t yours. You can’t just take it.”

Yuuri adjusts his glasses. “My family owns this land. I don’t—I don’t need permission to pluck a flower on my own property.”

The man raises an eyebrow with a slight quirk of a smile. His lips are slightly frosted like his cheeks, though a shade of pale peach instead of the pearl color highlighting his pale skin. “Is that so,” he replies, though he isn’t asking.

“Yes,” Yuuri replies. “I can’t commit a theft of my own property.”

The man becomes visibly amused, his eyes sparkling and smile growing wider. “I suppose,” he says. “Though, I would argue this isn’t your land. It bears no owner, belonging to itself. Though, it is ruled—” He trails off, looking off towards the trees from whence Yuuri came. “Well, no matter. The point is, this isn’t your land.”

“The name Katsuki Hall doesn’t agree,” Yuuri counters again. “As in, my name is Katsuki Yuuri.”

The man’s smile is slightly impish. He crosses the distance, standing in front of Yuuri. He’s in his personal space, only a few inches from him as he lifts his chin with his right hand. He scrutinizes Yuuri, who flushes at the attention while his glasses slide down to the tip of his nose, and after a few minutes, the velvety pad of his thumb caresses Yuuri’s bottom lip. “Your eyes are sweet,” he whispers.

Yuuri stares, swallowing once. He tries to step backwards, but his feet grow roots that burrow into the ground like an ancient tree.

The man’s other hand tenderly strokes the hair on Yuuri’s forehead, and he loses himself in it, in the affection and longing in his blue eyes. He’s never been looked at like this, as if he is someone to be wanted, someone to be cherished and possessed. Though he realizes he shouldn’t, he likes it. He wants more.

'Til I Tear the Walls, 'Til I Save Your Heart by ken_ichijouji (dommific). 18,549 words (complete), rated E.

The Ballad of Tam Lin AU the fandom deserves, and just in time for Halloween too! This fic has such beautiful attention to detail and the research that went into the folklore aspect really shines through. The descriptive language itself is equally beautiful and shows an equal amount of care!

Also, damn Yuuri, so brave just giving your name to fae-like strangers you find in the wilderness? 😱