#yoii

I have a essay. That is about alaska and hawaii. Its long as heck. and at the same time I'm working on my yt channel. My moodboard for here. and headcanons. 🥲

this is what i needed coming back into writing! also, i wanna make these into some actual fics so keep your eyes peeled for that! 

tomorrow i have my last HSC exam and that means i will have offically finished high school so i have more time now! xx

VIKTOR 

he is so shocked 

he doesnt understand 

you dont tell him why you broke up with him, just something along the lines of “I’m not the right perosn for you”

which confuses him so much 

not the right person??? you were perfect and everything he could ever want in a person 

he tries to do the traditional 21st century form of moving on, y’know, deleting pictures on his phone 

he cant do it 

he tries to delete some

he keeps the one that bring back the most memories 

his favourites:

a picture of the two of you taken by paparazzi, you were dressed up for the cold russian weather and holding a steaming coffee in a gloved hand, he stood beside you with his hand resting on your lower back as he walked you through the street, his glasses were on - an atempt to hide his identity even though he knew there was truly no way to hide - although it was hard to see your features, it was that very thing that made him keep it, it wasnt you posing, it was you just … being you, the person he missed.

three pictures he took with you in front of the skating rink before training, one where the both of you were grinning, the second of him kissing your cheek with your surprised face before the third of a kiss between the two of you.

the last picture he kept was another paparazzi shot from when you had returned to russia after a trip of the moment you both found each other in the airport in a warm embrace

he finds himself writing a long paragrah to you to ask what went wrong between the two of you that he wants to send before deleting the text and going back to sleep

his routines lack surprise 

the pieces he choses to skate to entail hints to his heartbreak, at times making it vague through Scorri, fiume eterno from Il tabarro being about a father dealing with his wife infidelity and death of his child, and other times chosing not to hide it with On My Own from Les Miserables

he is secretly waiting for the day, the chance, for you two to have a second chance.

one night viktor calls you to ask about why you left him, he needed to know

CHRIS

boi

he acted chill

he was NOT chill

he feared it was his flirtacious nature 

he wasnt himself

to people who were not close friends with him he seemed completly fine and normal, but close friends know that chris feels things very deeply

he calls viktor when he needs to vent

he calls whoever he trusts most 

on days when he’s feeling down about it he goes to call you only to remember that he cant do that 

it kills him

his coach notices that his performance is no where near hoe it used to be

chris brushes the comments from his coach off

he doesnt want to admit how much it hurts

he scrolls through the texts between the two of you

he calls you one day saying how he wanted to talk

you agree to a coffee

you admit why you did what you did

as soon as he hears that you felt you werent good enough his heart drops 

you were perfect

he immediatley assures you 

he reaches out for your hand and promises you that you were everything he could ever want in someone 

he sees your eyes water 

he wipes away your tears and holds you close

he never wanted you to feel this way

ever 

he promises to be better for you so you never feel insecure about being with him

you both agree to work through this and see if you want to get back together

you do

YUURI 

you knew you couldnt just drop him with no explanation 

you knew you would have to sit him down and explain everything

you knew of his tendancy to overanalyse and you did not want him to blame himself

no way

this was your fault and you didnt want him to think any different

you knew he was nervous as soon as you told him you wanted to chat about things

he was obviously anxious 

which only made you feel worse 

how could you do this to him?

you were horrible 

you reassured him and told him it was okay

you explained that you felt as though you didnt feel as you were good enough for him

 s h a t t e r 

his brain just shattered

reality to he was pretty sure 

was this a dream?

had to be

maybe he should pinch himself?

thats probably awkward dont do that 

he just stared at you blankly for a while

you were almost concerned he was having a stroke 

before you could ask him if he was okay he snapped back into reality and had started laughing

what?

is this boy insane?

he couldnt believe it 

you?

you thought you werent good enough?

of all people?

so this is what it must feel like to be on the other side of this 

he calmed down when he saw the confused look on her face and reached out to give you a hug

“you’re funny, (your name)”

“i - im not joking, im being serious here.”

Drabble about the zip on Yuuri’s Eros costume + Victor hating the fact that he has to do said zip up. 

Victor could never help but take his time, here like this with the bare skin of Yuuri’s back laid out for him, and him only.

It was routine now, standing in the thick silence of their personal change room, standing close even though there was more than enough space.

“Zip me up, Victor.” Yuuri teased, playing his role already, shifting the muscles of his back, rolling his shoulders, enticing Victor with that canvas of smooth skin left exposed with that zip waiting at the bottom.

And Victor groaned, low in his throat like he always did as he stepped closer still, fingered the tab of the zip as he thought about ripping it off instead, thought about pushing Yuuri face first against the wall to tear Yuuri’s costume to shreds.

The goosebumps across Yuuri’s shoulders as Victor blew on his unmarred skin set Victor on fire every time, churned his gut, tightened his throat, made his heart race.

It grated against his very being as he pulled that zip up inch by slow inch, had him growling in Yuuri’s ear because it wasn’t just Victor that had a hard time with it now. Yuuri’s breath was heavy, the skin of his neck sensitive where Victor couldn’t help but kiss as that zip moved agonisingly higher at his own doing.

It would be so easy to get carried away, to slip his hands underneath that thin fabric and map out Yuuri’s body with his fingers, a place he’d never get tired of exploring, skin he’d never get tired of marking.

So he stopped halfway, conflicting thoughts pausing the closure halfway up, that skin between Yuuri’s shoulder blades beckoning, and Yuuri made it so hard, because he shivered then, pressed himself back against Victor’s chest, against his hips, his ass against Victor’s own very urgent want.

“Fuck.” Victor couldn’t help but hiss, couldn’t help but press back, align himself even through the fabric into the cleft of Yuuri’s ass. “That’s foul play, Yuuri.”

Yuuri had never pushed him quite this far before, this close to the edge of thoughtlessness, this close to something crazy right before his routine. And Yuuri just chuckled, low and alluring as he arched his back and gave Victor a mocking amount of friction.

The zip was back down to the bottom in an instant with a metallic hiss as Victor growled again, fabric pushed open, he bent Yuuri over, planted his hands on the wall as Victor gave in and set his teeth to Yuuri’s skin. He hadn’t left marks on Yuuri since the season began, but he was going to change that now, time be damned.

Yuuri shuddered, bit back a moan as Victor started at the small corner at the bottom where the fabric narrowed, following the path slowly as Victor worked his teeth, his tongue, his lips up the diagonal line where the path of Yuuri’s zipper would run.

He could see Yuuri’s fingers scrabble at the wall, feel the heat of his skin, could hear his shallow attempts at breathing, and he was holding it together so well, too well, and Victor wanted to make him scream instead, because Yuuri wasn’t playing fair at all.

But there wasn’t enough time, they had 5 minutes until Yuuri had to check in for his routine, and if Victor had his way 5 minutes would only be scratching the surface of this deep rooted hunger that possessed him every single time he was forced to do up that fucking zip.

So he settled on the trail of hickeys and teeth marks he left on Yuuri’s skin, soothing them with kisses as he went higher and higher, revelled in the thought that Yuuri would still feel their sting as he put on a show in front of everyone in the arena, a show that was meant solely for him, Victor Nikiforov.

His teeth dragged at the supple flesh, nipped as he worked his way higher, up across his spine, the dip next to his shoulder blade, across the firm expanse of muscle up to the top where he finally stopped.

And then he pressed his whole body close, chest flush to Yuuri’s deliciously decorated skin, hands atop Yuuri’s own on the wall now, neck craned forward so he could nibble on Yuuri’s hear, so he could roll his hips and let Yuuri know exactly how close Victor was to blowing this competition off just so he could fuck Yuuri here in this changing room instead.

“Yuuri,” Victor drawled, incited by his own thoughts, “Just remember I’ll be the one undoing this zip afterwards, so you better be ready.”

Yuuri trembling against him was almost more than he could take, but Yuuri turned against him then, pulled his hands out from underneath Victor’s own and met him face to face, cheeks flushed, pupils blown, and a playful smirk curving the lip he’d obviously been biting moments earlier.

“I thought that was a given.” Yuuri offered, voice low, eyes dark as he stepped forward on tip toes and ghosted his lips against Victor’s, a whisper apart, a breath away from ruining Victor’s self control.