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alright! it’s nearly four am and I’ve been thinking of yuri!!! on ice, as one is wont to, and i was wondering.

why didn’t victor just contact yuuri via social media? both of them seem to have active presences on twitter and instagram. he could’ve just DMed him.

and then it hit me.

yuuri has victor blocked on all social media platforms.

imagine yuuri, having an ‘official’ twitter account since age 14-15 (when he started competing), following just skaters and officials and trying his best to keep his fannish tendencies at bay, and then, a few months after hitting the international circuit, he gets this notification:

v_nikiforov follows you.

and yuuri IMMEDIATELY blocks him everywhere INSTANTLY regrets it but it’ll be too awkward to unblock him and follow him again so he just screams into his pillow for hours and hours and never ever even looks at victor’s account from his official handle for years until they’ve been dating for a few months and victor whines “babyyyyy unblock me on instagram i want to tag you!!”

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Victor sipped his Aunt Roberta, brain too focussed on avoiding eye contact with the older man in the lounge on the opposite side of the club from where Victor sat at the bar, across the crowded dance floor, to truly appreciate the taste of  the expensive beverage. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying the attention, but this game of chase was surprisingly fun. 

“I can’t believe you are even considering this.” Chris whispered into his ear from his perch next to Victor, for what felt like the hundredth time. Victor didn’t bother responding this time. 

Chris won’t understand, anyway. 

From the corner of his eye, Victor watched Yuuri lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees in interest as an admittedly gorgeous brunette in a skimpy, sheer dress passed by the couches he and his company occupied. Unwarranted, a thick, choking coil of jealousy rose within the Russian, making his jaw tense, teeth clenching tight within his mouth. Almost immediately, Yuuri’s eyes were rising to meet his own, mouth curling into a smug smirk at the look of Victor’s face. The Japanese man lifted a neatly plucked eyebrow before dismissing Victor for the blonde, Japanese boy by his side, who had very nearly crawled into Yuuri’s lap now. 

Victor seethed, and felt his half-hard cock give an interested twitch. 

“He is fucking mafia! He has dealings with Plisetsky’s gang! You really don’t wanna get into this mess, Victor!” 

Victor really, really did. 

The guy down two stools on Victor’s left had been trying to gain his attention with a charming smile and shy waves that Victor pointedly ignored, all the time Victor and Chris had been seated at the bar. He was sort of cute, nice, respectful and probably didn’t have a criminal background.

Victor couldn’t be less interested. 

It was sort of sickening, he thought as he watched the dim, sensual lighting of the club colour Yuuri a particular shade of sexy Victor has never seen before, that everything Chris, Georgi, and any other sane person abhorred Yuuri for was a part of what attracted Victor to him. He was willing to bet the blonde boy with the red highlights stroking the side of Yuuri’s face as Yuuri’s eyes ran up and down Victor’s body instead had no idea who Yuuri was, what he did. If he were to find out, he would run so fast and never look back at Yuuri, Victor imagined. 

But Victor won’t.

And that was why it was him who should be in Yuuri’s arms right now, straddling his thighs and caressing his face. That boy didn’t deserve a sliver of Yuuri’s attention, cowardly little bitch that he no doubt was.

Yuuri’s lips trailed up the side of the boy’s neck, and his eyes never left Victor’s.    

This game had been going on all night, ever since Yuuri had caught sight of Victor openly admiring his body from across the club. He had sat back on his sofa with a smirk, spread his legs apart, making Victor lick his lips, and then proceeded to ignore Victor for the next fifteen minutes. 

Miffed and so, so turned on, Victor had decided he wasn’t going to leave the club without Yuuri that night. 

Victor threw his drink back, and tossed his hair over his shoulder before haughtily turning away from Yuuri, and focussing on his friend instead, simultaneously signalling for the bartender to bring him another Roberta.  

“Yakuza.” He muttered. 

“What?” Chris crinkled his brow just in time with the drop in the song blaring in the club just then. It made Victor smile a little. 

“He’s Yakuza. Not mafia.” 

Next to him, Chris groaned and said something else about how Victor had to be insane.  

Victor’s fingers drummed against the bar top, and he bunched them into a fist. A little while longer, he told himself. He couldn’t turn yet.

A very rough snippet from my latest AU

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Blurt #24: Yuuri once did a performance of swan lake, playing the lead Prince Siegfried. Minako cried over it, and spent a few weeks trying to convince Yuuri to switch back to ballet. When Victor discovered a video of the performance, he thinks he developed a new kink.

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Blurt #23: Nishigori took a while to figure out that Yuuri did not have a crush on Yuuko and that he had no reason to be jealous of the two, like almost an embarrassing long time.

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thanks so much babe!!! 💞💞💞

yoi hannibal au

ok so this sort of stemmed from me having Emotions TM about dumb distinguished gays hannibal lector/victor nikiforov getting completely swept off their feet by strange anti-social nerds will graham/yuuri katsuki

because like, in canon, before they met their beloved weirdos, they were bored, which for them meant death. for hannibal, because serial killers get careless and then are caught, and for vitya, because skaters get stuck, and then lose all joy from the ice.

plus there’s the physical similarities, with the grey haired eastern european rich ass suited up Very Important And Well Known men, and then their brown hair glasses soft faced loner husbands who love their dogs.

so i went hmmmmmuuushhem together

the result is true crime podcast host/investigative specialist yuuri katsuki hyperfixating on a serial killer who just-so-happens to be viktor nikiforov, the eccentric luthier (??? maybe??? i haven’t decided lol, something to do with music) who has been attemting to woo a blushing and only slightly oblivious yuuri. phichit and chris are clutching each other in the background. i haven’t decided if they’re in on it yet, whichever one has more comedic potential.

tog social media au

this was born from the various posts on this here hellsite about the immortal gang having social media accounts, and booker running a super pretentious booktube/commentary channel, and i couldn’t resist the urge to drabble.

plus, my mom is in various bookclubs, three of which are anti-racist/revolutionary in nature, and she likes to talk to me about who said what and how this one lady didn’t read this month but insisted on talking the whole time, or about how this one dude isn’t quite radicalized yet so he doesn’t know what a proletariat is, or how this one person said this stupid thing, and as a result i’ve taken to imagining with great pleasure how each member of the immortal squad would absolutely flame them.

they are, of course, still immortal vigilantes, so every once in a while they’ll say something that’s normal but slightly to the left, like “nicolo and i have been having this argument for centuries now but i am right and he knows it,” or they’ll make some comment about how oscar wilde was a prick who made terrible tea, or they’ll talk to each other in like a proto-indo-iranian language or something, and since they put subtitles on all their videos and they’re not like, Serious videos, most of their audience is like ‘haha jokes so funny’

but there’s a small group that are like, grad students and super nerds (lead, of course, by copley), who hear that stuff and go wait a damn minute, “there’s literally no record of that thing you said about mozart” or “THAT LANGUAGE HAS BEEN DEAD FOR CENTURIES??? WHAT THE FUCK?????” or “that is an honest to god rodin” or “those weapons sure are suspiciously accurate,” plus all the pictures and paintings of them dating back actual millenia

so they’ve been added to the list of immortals alongside john mulaney, anne hatheaway, hozier, florence welch, paul rudd, jeff goldblum, wang yibo, xiao zhan, keanu reeves, etc. (these people are, in fact, Actual Immortals. they get coffee sometimes and rant about how much english sucks.)

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3. happiest memory

“It should be illegal to be this handsome, you know,” Victor tells him playfully.

Yuuri’s mind is a void, empty of all thought and awareness. “You’re one to talk.”

Victor’s smile is so– Yuuri has no words for it. It’s just so soft, so tender, so– Victor, that Yuuri can’t help but feel like his entire heart is going to burst just from seeing it once.

“Yuuri, I,” Victor starts, then pauses as if unsure of what he is trying to ask.


Victor gives a little breathless laugh. “No, I was just wondering… But it’s silly. You won’t want that. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea. Forget it.”

He’s ready to let go of Yuuri’s hand, to pick up the laptop and move on as if it’s nothing, but to Yuuri… to Yuuri it’s everything. So Yuuri holds onto Victor’s hand, shifts closer still, and asks:

“No, please. Tell me.”

And something in his face must already be an answer, because Victor takes only one glance before–

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

As if Yuuri’s entire world was shaking– No, not his world– It’s him who’s shaking, and he’s shaking because… what did Victor just say?

“What?” he rasps.

read more on ao3

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