Yuri!!! On Runway

Chapters: ½ Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont Additional Tags: Fashion & Couture, Fashion Designer Yuuri, victor still skates, Humor, Getting to Know Each Other, these dorks I swear, Costumes, Chris and Phichit are so done, But they’re still the best friends ever, Victor is smitten, Yuuri is precious Summary:

Yuuri needed a big break. Victor needed a muse. They find what they’re looking for, and a little more besides.

Catching Vitya is every fashion week street style photographer’s dream.

“What have you been up to?” Yuuri asked, rising to his feet. “And what does this mean?” he gestured at Victor’s clothes, wondering if this was a secret code he was supposed to have learned by now.

Victor was in a suit that Yuuri recognized as one he’d once been lectured about. He took in the shape of the pants and the length of the coat that both placed it as typical semi-formal wear of the 1940s and waited for the explanation that was bound to follow.

“I have one for you as well,” Victor told him.

read the rest on ao3

For Day 5 of @yurionrunway

(yes I know I’m a million years behind, sorry!!)

My Muse, You Inspire Me

Rating: General

Day 7 of @yurionrunway’s Fashion Week: Free Day

“So?” Viktor tilted his head, observing Yuuri’s expression. “What do you think, baby?”

Yuuri blinked away his tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you design something like this before.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Yuuri had never been more nervous for a shoot. Never. He’d been modeling since he was twelve so he figured that at twenty-two pre-shoot nerves should’ve been gone by now. He tried to convince himself he was overthinking it.

This was a shoot like any other, or so he tried to tell himself. In all truth, though, it wasn’t, this wasn’t going to be like any photoshoot he’d ever been in.

Ever since he’d started modeling, every single photographer had hired a makeup artist to cover any imperfections on his face to make him look like a pristine Asian doll that people could idolize. He’d always been made to look like something untouchable, beautiful, and flawless.

But Yuuri as Yuuri wasn’t beautiful or flawless, he wasn’t anywhere near as gorgeous as those who photographed him made him seem; he was just average and flabby, uninteresting and easily forgotten.

This shoot would make or break his career. It was true for any bare-faced shoot, but especially when Yuuri had been so careful to make sure his skin, usually irreparably flawed, looked perfect on the covers of magazines.

His fans would find out that he’d been lying about his perfection. Yuuri felt like he might throw up.

A hand on his shoulder shook him from his musings and he looked up at his husband-slash-photographer who was looking at him with a concerned gleam, “Are you okay, my love?”

Yuuri gave him a weak smile, “Nervous.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before, my lovely, just smile for the camera and show the world how beautiful you are,” Viktor said, ever the optimist.

“I’m not–like this,” Yuuri gestured vaguely to his face which was covered in round, entrenched scars; Some old, some new.

Viktor grasped his hand, “You’re beautiful in every single way, your acne isn’t a blemish, my darling, its a blessing from the gods, they worried if they gave you smooth skin on top of everything else, you’d outshine the rest of the world,” he kissed his hand, “but you’ve never let that stop you.”

Yuuri smiled, pecking Viktor on the lips in thanks. “I’ll do my best. Is…is Phichit still coming?”

“Of course!” Viktor said, nodding. “He should be here already if you’d like to go and find him before your shoot,”

Yuuri stood, “Yeah, I think I’ll go do that and let you set up your things in peace. See you in a bit,”

Yuuri left Viktor to set up his equipment and moved through the studio, heading towards the back where the dressing rooms were located. The dressing rooms were usually his best bet when it came to finding his wayward friend.

Sure enough, Yuuri saw his friend talking to one of the designers, his arms wrapped around himself in an act of uncharacteristic nervousness.

Startlingly, Yuuri realized that Phichit was struggling just as much as he was, if not more.

Yuuri rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder, making him jump. Once Phichit saw who it was, he gave a smile that was shaky at best. “Hey,” Yuuri said, “how are you feeling?”

Phichit shrugged. “Okay. Sort of. Nervous, really.” He gestured to the designer whom Yuuri had never met, “This is Yakov, he’s here to make sure I look stunning tonight,” he said, trying and failing to fit his false bravado into his voice.

Phichit reached a hand up to scratch at a patch of pale white skin. Yuuri slapped his hand down without a word, listening as the designer started speaking. “I’m Yakov Feltsman, Yuri Plisetsky’s mentor,”

Yuuri’s designer’s mentor? Yuuri smiled and stuck a hand out for the man to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I suppose I can trust that you’ve taught your protege well?”

The man grunted looking off to the side. “The kid’s got a bad attitude, but he can play dress-up fine, I guess.”

Yuuri withered a bit on the inside. that wasn’t the vote of confidence he was looking for. Suddenly, the man’s eyes lit up like a moth on fire and he yelled, “Yuri! Put that down!” before barreling past Yuuri.

Yuuri looked at Phichit with wide eyes. “This is hopeless,” Phichit said. “My designer is a maniac and I look like a cow.”

“You don’t look like a cow,” Yuuri said, offended by the comparison.

Phichit gestured to his face, “I can’t think of anything else with brown and white spots like these, Yuuri. Face it, I look like a cow.”

Yuuri shook his head insistently. “You really don’t, Phichit, you look amazing, just like you always do. You just look more you like this. It’s always a little weird to see the light patches of your skin covered up during shoots, honestly.”

It didn’t help.

“How would you feel if I said that about your acne?” Phichit asked in a low sigh. Yuuri winced. It wouldn’t feel nice.

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologized, “I just don’t know what to do to make you feel better about this.”

Phichit sat on a nearby bench, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his cheek on them, “Nothing, I just need to get through this,” Phichit said. He gave Yuuri a weak smile, “Thank you, though.”

Yuuri patted his shoulder. “You’ll do fine, I promise. I’ll be right there with you. We’ll suffer together.” They both laughed softly, but the tension in the air was still dense.

~

“The latest issue of the country’s favorite fashion magazine, Inspiration, took the world by storm this past weekend,” The news lady said, holding up the cover of said issue.

Yuuri looked over at Phichit, seeing him gnawing on his nails.

“On the cover, you see Phichit Chulanont, one of Inspiration’s top models, with a skin condition known as vitiligo. Usually, the model is complimented on his smooth, chocolate-colored skin, but this week people are up in arms. Is this skin condition real? Or is it just makeup? 1-2-3 news wrote Viktor Nikiforov, head photographer at Inspiration, to find out.” The lady moved to the side, letting the camera see the text on the screen.

“‘Every model in this shoot was completely makeup-free,’ Nikiforov promised, <em>'Phichit’s skin is just as authentic as Yuuri Katsuki’s or Mila Babicheva’s. This shoot was meant to spread the message that nobody has perfect skin, not even the models of Inspiration magazine, and that shouldn’t be something anyone is ashamed of.’” The lady turned back to the camera.

She gestured to the screen, “This wasn’t all. We then followed up with asking about how he felt about the comments on his husband’s, Yuuri Katsuki’s, complexion, something which has also been a hot topic with many differing opinions. This is what he had to say:”

“'My husband is the strongest person I know-’” Yuuri blushed, leaning into Viktor’s arm, “’-he’s always struggled in having confidence in his skin and while the hate has been present, the support has been absolutely overwhelming. It saddens me to think that some believe that the blemishes on his skin make him any less beautiful, but it brings me the utmost joy to hear how others suffering just like him see him as an inspiration for going bare-faced, something many with the same problem fear to do. I have never been more proud.”

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, that seems to be that. Phichit Chulanont was not wearing makeup for the shoot and seems to genuinely have vitiligo; those who cried 'disrespect!’ this past week can cool down, now. Next up, Otabeck Altin’s new boo? More after the break.” The image switched to a commercial.

Phichit let out his breath in a rush of air. “That…wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

Yuuri rubbed his arm, “See? I told you it would be fine,”

Viktor kissed the crown of Yuuri’s head, “Both of you did marvelously, I’m very proud.”

Vogue

@yurionrunway Day 7 – Creativity / Free Day – Minako

For the Free Day, I fully indulged in my weakness for drawing sexy ladies. How could I resist Minako looking fabulous in lingerie?

Whew, this week was a lot of work but I’m happy with the pieces I did and it was great to see what everyone came up with! Good job everyone, and thank you to the mods who organized this :)

“But peplums are so old,” Victor whines and cuddles Yuuri closer. “They’re all 2012. It’s been years since 2012, Yuuri. If you didn’t notice.”

“Yes, I did notice. Thanks,” Yuuri snarks from where he’s tucked under Victor’s chin, resting against his chest and working on a new design for his prêt-à-porter womenswear collection. “But I kind of like peplums, sue me.”

“Okay, I can agree that they look good on narrow waists and, fine, I will give you that they’re elegant.” Victor mumbles into his hair. “But they’re old. They’re still old. How are you planning to make something so old feel fresh again?”

“Does it have to feel fresh?” Yuuri asks back, tapping the page of his notebook with the tip of the pencil. “I mean, yes, it’s supposed to be new and exciting, but wouldn’t something old presented today still feel sort of new?”

Victor makes a sound that is half interest, half confusion, and then rests a little kiss behind Yuuri’s ear.

“Show me your vision, love,” he asks.

Behold! Viktor in a Wedding dress!

@yurionrunway Day 6 – Gender Role Subversion (2) – Phichit

I clearly know no restraint this week so here is a second entry for the “gender role subversion” prompt ^^; 

I went for an androgynous look for this piece. Hopefully you can’t tell the gender at a glance!   

@yurionrunway Day 6 – Gender Role Subversion (1) – Mila

I just love how Mila looks in a suit!

“Close your eyes,” Victor whispers into Yuuri’s ear. “No peeking!”

“I won’t, I won’t! Promise!”

Yuuri laughs at how silly this is. Victor still doesn’t believe him and covers his eyes with his own hands from behind. It feels like a somewhat awkward hug, and once they move it’s even more clumsy and awful.

Yuuri can’t stop giggling.

“You’re so mean, my Yuuri,” Victor complains as they walk wherever it is Victor wants to take him. Yuuri can’t see anyway. “Being laughed at for my efforts, how cruel a life I must be leading!”

“Fine, fine, I’m not laughing anymore,” Yuuri says, but he can’t stop grinning. “So what is this big surprise? Please tell me you didn’t get us a puppy.”

“I didn’t,” Victor reassures. “But that actually is a pretty good idea. I will file that away for later.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion!” Yuuri protests, but they both know that he would never turn away a puppy that needed home and lots of love. And it’s a good thing that Victor and Yuuri had plenty of each to give, but still–

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Victor tells him, and then takes one hand off of Yuuri’s eyes to open a door. “Come on in, sweetheart.”

“So, we’re in your workroom,” Yuuri deduces by the smell of fabric, glue and everything else that makes a workroom smell like home. “What now?”

“Now, I need you to keep your eyes closed until I say otherwise. Can you do that for me?”

“What wouldn’t I do for you?” Yuuri answers with a little smile.

He doesn’t expect it, so the sweet kiss Victor leaves on his lips comes as a complete surprise. Yuuri can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it, but it ends sooner than he’d like and he’s left alone and in the dark again. With a small sigh, and a small smile to match it, he waits and waits and waits, while Victor moves around the room. Finally, the rustle of fabric and the sound of the dress form base being dragged over the floorboards stops.

“You can open your eyes now,” Victor says.

Yuuri doesn’t even realize how hard his heart has been beating in anticipation until the first bright lights hit him. He’s a little breathless and a whole lot blind, but he blinks fast to let his sight adjust, so he can see what all the fuss was abo–

And then he’s breathless for a whole another reason altogether.

“Wow,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

“I look ridiculous,” Yuuri whined softly, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast.

Phichit slapped him on the back roughly, “Come on, you look amazing, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up at Phichit with a pout, “Phichit…”

“No,” Phichit gave a firm shake of his head, “Nah-ah, no, no way. You’re no getting out of this. You skipped out last year but this year you promised.”

Yuuri’s pout faded into a soft frown. With a soft sigh, he straightened up, looking himself up and down in the mirror. “Isn’t there something else I can wear? This is just so…tight.”

“That’s what they wore, Yuuri, men’s ball-wear in the eighteenth century was all about showing off the tightest of buttocks.” Phichit spun on his heel, gesture to his own ass as an example.

Meanwhile, Yuuri was still scrutinizing himself in this…outfit. His hair had been left alone, but his glasses were replaced with blue-colored contacts that meshed well with the coat that was sapphire blue with gold trim which went all the down to his knees. Underneath his coat was a similarly colored button-up with more gold trim going down the middle. The shirt went down to about mid-thigh and met the tight, blue pants that only had gold trim on the bottom.

That was all fine, he supposed it was the other parts he felt made it a bit extra. His sleeves were finished off with off-white ruffles that had gold sparkles sewn in and it matched perfectly with the handkerchief thing Phichit had stuffed into his collar(God, that was scratchy.) and, to top it all off, instead of where black shoes like a normal person, whoever Yuuri had been styled after had decided to wear pure white socks with pure white shoes with strange buckles on them.

Yuuri looked like a train wreck, in his humble opinion. A complicated trainwreck. He didn’t even pull it off well! Not like Phichit, anyway, who looked like he belonged in the 18th century in his similarly-styled maroon ensemble which he topped off with a large feather hat.

“Macaroni!” Phichit exclaimed, doing an extravagant bow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yuuri asked.

Phichit gasped dramatically, “You mean you don’t know? Come Yuuri, we must go, but I will serenade you with the most important song you have ever heard! Grab your mask and let us be going.”

Phichit grabbed his maroon mask and skipped out. With the millionth sigh of the night, Yuuri grabbed his own, strapping it onto his head and jogging after the brunette, “Wait, Phichit! I don’t know where we’re going!”

~

“…Stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni!” Phichit had been skipping along the streets and singing that song for the last ten minutes and Yuuri had honestly never wanted to get to a place he didn’t want to go more than he did at that moment. The song didn’t even help, either, he still didn’t know why this Yankee Doodle was calling things macaroni! Macaroni was a delicacy of soft pasta and creamy cheese, not a fashion disaster.

“Phichit, are we almost there?” Yuuri asked in an almost-moan. “These pants are riding up my butt.”

Phichit paused in his singing to grin at Yuuri, “It’s right around the corner, my friend, worry not.”

Phichi seemed to be telling the truth because, just as he said, when they turned the corner, the street lit up. There were cars driving past them and dropping their keys with he six vales standing at their podiums outside, men and women stepping out of them in extravagant dresses, suits, and masks.

“Mask on, buddy,” Phichit said, slipping his own onto his face to tie around the back.

Yuuri on his own, tying it at the back with stumbling fingers. He could barely keep himself from taking a step to walk behind Phichit as they blended with the crowd.

Even though he couldn’t tell even if he wanted because of the masks, Yuuri felt like he was being stared at and looked down upon by everyone they passed. They just looked so much better than he did.

Phichit grabbed his wrist and dragged him forward to get him to move faster.

Yuuri had never felt smaller than he did the second he stepped into the gorgeous ballroom that looked like it had come straight out of a movie.

High ceilings, gold and white coloring with blue accents, and a giant chandelier hanging overhead made this place the most expensive building Yuuri had ever looked bad in.

Phichit lightly elbowed him in the side, “You match the ballroom, buddy.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, “Don’t say that, that’s weird.”

Phichit laughed. “I’m going to go check out the buffet, go mingle my shy little turtle.”

Yuuri’s hand flung out, trying to keep Phichit from leaving him, but his friend had already waded through the crowd, moving further and further away from him. There went his plan to stick by the only person he actually knew in this place.

Nervously, he started walking with the crowd, dodging groups of people chatting and standing around. He gave the dance floor a wide birth, heading straight towards the wall on the far end in hopes of avoiding any unnecessary interaction.

But apparently, some higher power didn’t want him to stay in his comfort zone.

It was like it had come straight out of a movie. He was walking, barely paying attention, when someone ran into him, splashing wine all over his attire. “Oh, dear, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’m so sorry!” the person gasped.

Yuuri looked up, ‘It’s okay’ on his tongue, but all he managed to do was gape at the man towering over him worriedly.

Damn, did everybody have to look so much better than he did? This man was the epitome of beauty and grace, god he pulled off his outfit so well, and Yuuri was just…Yuuri. It was a little disappointing. To him, at least.

“I ruined your costume, I’m so sorry,” The stranger said. Though he sounded genuinely sorry, Yuuri felt like he was mocking him. The other man’s costume was clearly better and he probably knew it.

“It’s fine,” Yuuri said softly.

“No, it isn’t!” The stranger declared. He took a startled Yuuri by the hands and started dragging him off into a random direction. “I’m sure there was a bathroom in this direction…”

Yuuri stumbled after the determined stranger and soon they were both inside of a one-person bathroom.

“Here,” The man unraveled some tissue and try to pat Yuuri’s chest dry.

“I-it’s really fine..” Yuuri said slowly, trying to gently push the man’s hands away.

The man stopped, meeting Yuuri’s gaze and suddenly Yuuri was trapped in an intense ocean of blue. He wondered, briefly, if this man was also wearing contacts. There was just no way that eyes actually came in that color, was there? “Let me make it up to you.”

“Okay?” Yuuri aid questioningly.

The man straightened and reached his hands behind his head. He’s taking his mask off, Yuuri realized faintly.

The mask was off in a second and Yuuri was overwhelmed with the beauty of this man. Soft, pale skin with a charming smile and vivid blue eyes and long, silvery hair tied with a ribbon lying about his shoulders and framing his face. He stuck a hand out, “I’m Viktor Nikiforov and, if you’d allow me, I’d like to pay for your dry cleaning.”

Yuuri took his hand, saying, “I’m Yuuri…Katsuki.”

The man pouted and Yuuri didn’t think he could have ever found something like that cute in anybody else, but wow. “What? No dramatic face reveal?  did all of that for nothing?”

Yuuri giggled, untying his mask, too, “I-I guess it’s only…fair.”

There was no response and Yuuri looked at the man who had frozen, “Uh…Nikiforov…sir?”

The man seemed to shake himself out of the stupor he was in and the charming smile was back, “I’m sorry, your beauty just overwhelmed me. Perhaps he can turn that dry cleaning offer into a coffee date offer?”

Yuuri could do nothing but nod numbly as the man got a pen out of his pocket and wrote his name and number on Yuuri’s hand. “Well, I look forward to your call.”

~

And, as if it had happened before, Yuuri had lost Viktor’s number come morning

@yurionrunway Day 6: Gender Role Subversion

Rating: Teen

“You two done in there yet?” Chris’ voice broke the silence that had settled over the twins while Sara straightens per suit jacket.

“Don’t be rude Christophe, they need a chance to put their best face forward, that takes time, you wouldn’t understand.” Viktor’s voice came filtering through the door, evidently directed at his fellow photographer - who as far as anyone was concerned was an on-point dresser; however, his outfit choices were much less extreme than his counterpart.

“Oh henny, I just don’t have to spend time with makeup covering my hideous face since I’m beautiful inside and out.”

The sound of horror and a slap sounded through the door before Michele pulled it open, revealing Viktor with his hand over his mouth, eyes wide and the smirk on Chris’ face, even as red bloomed on his left cheek.

“Oh, you look A-mazing!” Viktor’s eyes trained to Michele and then Sara standing behind per. Completely forgetting the argument he had been involved in 0.5 seconds earlier.

“That idiot may be an obnoxious moron but fuck he can design clothes - you both look fantastic.” Chris nodded, eyes tracking over the two of them hungrily.

Keep reading

The last day of Paris Fashion Week was a real treat for everyone (or so some magazines would have their readers believe): Victor Nikiforov arrived with Yuuri Katsuki at his side.

Victor was in a white vest and a pale pink shirt with billowing sleeves. His white pants were lined with golden buttons to match the gold details on his vest. As always, his handkerchief was tucked in his breast pocket. Yuuri was in a black vest and pants with silver details. His shirt was cobalt blue.

The press got carried away and snapped at least a thousand photos of the editor and his fiancé.

Read the rest here

For Day 4 of @yurionrunway