our boy michael fuckin mell (for the character ask thing)
1: I’ve grown up on video games and don’t particularly like the newer games??? Like I get the appeal of FPS but cmon where’s my banjo kazooi? My Pokémon snap? My Kirby air ride?? MY CRASH BANDICOOT. These are everything.
2: panic attacks :))) constantly :))
3: DEPENDENCY ISSUES TO THE MAX HERE YO WHAT UP I NEED THE PEOPLE I LOVE IN MY LIFE OR I CRUMBLE
1: I have,,, perfect vision,,, better than the average person,,, my eyes are really really good.
2: I don’t drink soda. I can’t do it. Carbonated beverages freak me the heck out.
3: despite it being legal, I’ve never smoked weed.
I mean, everyone has it, and I’ve had it offered it to me more times than I can count, but I don’t got time for that. No THANKS
So I got bored and checked the weather for both Almaty and St. Petersburg and they're hilariously different so here's an otayuri drabble
Why the hell Yakov was making him practice in this heat, Yuri had no idea. But he hated him for it.
Sure, it wasn’t drastically hot, but 19°C was hot for St. Petersburg, and Yuri could be enjoying the weather if A: it wasn’t so humid, and B: Yakov wasn’t making him practice.
Yuri tipped his head back, the vertebrae in his neck creaking and tense muscles stretching.
“Give me a perfect triple axel into a spread eagle and you’re free to go.” The old man told him, drinking from the water bottle handed to him by Lilia.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Yuri said, exasperated. “In this heat?”
“Vitya’s been making Katsuki practice his quads all day, at least I’m not that cruel.” Yakov shrugged.
“Actually, I’m doing this voluntarily.” Yuuri called, taking off and landing a frustratingly perfect quad flip.
“I’ve been trying to make him come home for hours Yakov, this is none of my doing.” Viktor groaned, leaning against the barrier and wiping his brow.
“You said it yourself Vitya,” Yuuri shrugged, pulling off an effortless triple axel into a spread eagle. “I’m going to need to try my best to beat you.”
“I’ve created a monster. I’m doomed.” Viktor sighed defeatedly, gazing at Yuuri.
“And Yurio-” He started, trailing lazily around the rink.
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’m not stopping until I have both records, so I suggest you watch yourself.”
“Getting cocky, now are we, Katsudon?” Yuri asked, cocking a brow.
“Well it’s not the only thing I’m getting.” Yuuri shrugged, taking off into a perfect quad salchow, winking at Viktor as he landed.
“What the fuck have you done to him, Vitkor?” Yuri asked, slightly disgusted at the innuendo.
“I don’t know!” Viktor said exasperatedly.
“Alright, that’s it.” Yakov sighed. “Katsuki, get your ass out of my rink before you kill yourself.”
“I’m not even tired though.” Yuuri sighed, taking off into a quad loop.
“You’re hell bent on destroying my skaters and I can’t have that. Get out before you hurt yourself.” Yakov said firmly.
“Yuuri.” Mila started. “We adore you, you’re sweet and talented and everything but with every jump you land, Yakov pushes us that much harder, so please, for the love of god, get the fuck out of the rink.”
“Okay, okay.” Yuuri sighed, finally skating off of the rink, Mila earning an exhausted ‘thank you’ from Viktor, who followed behind Yuuri.
“Yura. Triple axel. Now.” Yakov said firmly, folding his arms.
“I’d like to see you do it, old man.” Yuri huffed, crossing his arms.
“Just do it, Yuri.” Yuuri called. “Anyway, we’re leaving for today, guys.”
“Finally!” Georgi groaned.
“Please take like, the next week off, you’re making us look bad.” Mila joked.
“No actually do, you’re driving me insane.” Yuri called.
“And Yakov said I couldn’t coach anyone.” Viktor smirked, pecking Yuuri on the cheek.
Yuri unlocked his dorm, dumping his duffle bag at the door and kicking his shoes off. It’d been a week since Yakov and Lilia’s asshole of a son kicked Yuri out of his mother’s house.
He stalked over the mini fridge in the corner of his room, opening it and pulling out a cold can of fanta, wrenching open the tab and flopping down on his bed.
He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and opening up whatsapp, ignoring the 689 missed texts from the Barcelona GPF group chat and scrolling to Otabek’s contact, selecting video call.
Otabek picked up after around the 3rd ring, and the imagine Yuri was greeted with wasn’t what he expected.
A flushed, tanned, sweaty, muscular chest and a giggling little girl in the background. The camera shakily carried up to Otabek’s face, where it was obvious that he older boy was fast asleep.
“Bekaaaa!” Giggled the little girl, a bony little hand with garish pink nail polish and ratty bracelets pressing down on Otabek’s chest. “Oyanw! Beka! Käne Beka!”
Otabek made a weird noise between a snort and a squawk, eyes snapping open suddenly as he lurched forwards.
“Sälem aytşı Yura!” The little girl giggled.
“Natya…” Otabek murmured groggily. “Nege telefonım bar?” He asked, reaching for the phone and pulling the little girl to the side. “Bul öte jaramsız.” He scolded, blowing a raspberry into the little girl’s cheek.
“Um… is this a bad time?” Yuri asked awkwardly, taking a sip from his soda can. “I can go…”
“Crap! Yura, I forgot. Sorry, I fell asleep and my little sister took my phone-”
Otabek laughed, ruffling his sister’s messy black hair.
“Sälem Yura!” She grinned, waving at the screen.
“She says hi.” Otabek grinned, translating.
“Hi Natalia.” Yuri smiled, waving back, earning a gap-toothed grin from the little girl.
“Natya, Siz bizden kete alasız ba?” Otabek asked his sister, slipping back into his native tongue.
She nodded, waving at the screen.
“Bayt Yura!” She giggled, running off.
“She’s adorable.” Yuri smiled, sipping from the can again.
“I know.” Otabek grinned.
“Did you teach her to call me that?”
“Call you what?”
“To call me Yura?”
“She’s called you that since she saw you on TV at the Russian Nationals two years ago.”
“Don’t look at me, she just does.”
Oh, Yuri was look at him.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“You’re half naked. At least I think you are… I can only see your chest.”
“I’m wearing underwear if that’s what you’re asking.” Otabek snorted, flashing Yuri a crooked grin.
“Really? No pants?”
“It’s too hot.” Otabek shrugged, reaching for a something offscreen and bringing a glass of water to his lips.
“Seriously? Isn’t it like, 19°C? Kinda pathetic. And that’s coming from a Moscow native.”
“It’s 36°C over here.” Otabek said flatly.
“Damn, your coach makes you practice in that heat?” Yuri asked incredulously.
“Nah. Training’s cancelled. He’s passed out in the porch.”
“Lucky bastard. Yakov’s been forcing me to train.” Yuri huffed.
“Watch your language, Yura. My family is in the vicinity.”
“I’m like 300 miles away they can’t hurt me.”
“My cousin will find you. You know what Aleks is like.”
“And I hope you boys are keeping it PG-13!” Came the call of cousin in the background, causing Otabek to flush slightly.
“I’m just saying! Your mother wouldn’t be too happy if she saw you-”
“Aleks, sabırlılıqtı toqtatıñız Beka!” Came a call.
“Dude I can hear like, your entire family, where are you?”
“In my back yard.” He shrugged, switching the camera so Yuri could get a view of the lush, green garden, and the hammock Otabek was laying in.
“Its huge!” Yuri gasped. “Your family must be loaded!”
“My mother was an Olympic silver medalist. That kind of set us up for quite a while, then I started to send money home whenever I got it.” Otabek shrugged. “Joq, Natya, şlangini tömenge ornatıñız!”
Yuri heard giggling in the background, along with running water. Otabek shifted, the camera shaking a bit as he moved.
“My sister has a hose, I’m going inside.” He explained as a jet of water splashed behind him. “Nope nope nope nope. Not today.”
“Are you afraid of getting wet, Beka?”
“No I just don’t want to get- AH!”
“Are you okay?” Yuri asked, cocking an eyebrow at the maniacal cackling heard in the background.
“Yeah, my sister just got me in the ass while I was running inside.”
“Damn, good aim.”
“Yeah,” He said, camera shaking as he went up the stairs, opening the door to his room and pushing in. “Yura?”
“I’m gonna need to change but I’m too lazy to disconnect the call, can I just put you against a pillow so you don’t see anything?”
“Sure.” Yuri shrugged, tossing his empty soda can into the trash.
The screen went a dark reddish-brown colour as it was pressed against the pillow, the camera suddenly flipping just as the screen went black.
Yuri could see Otabek pull away, turning around and pulling down the damp, dark grey boxers.
What the hell was Yuri supposed to do?!
The rational thing to would be to tell Otabek 'hey the camera accidentally flipped and I can see your ass and probably dick but I’m not sure’, but for some reason Yuri couldn’t speak.
Otabek turned in the direction of the camera, humming to himself as he stopped up the boxers and tossed them into the laundry hamper at the edge of his room, walking over to a chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of boxers.
Otabek quickly pulled the boxers on, rooting through the drawers and pulling out some shorts and a t-shirt, putting those on too.
He reached for the camera, which suddenly flipped back to front facing as it was being pulled away from the pillow.
“Sorry I took so long- Yura, are you okay?” Otabek asked, suddenly concerned.
“Y-yeah I’m fine. Why are you asking me?” Yuri stammered awkwardly.
“Your face, it’s all… red. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Yeah yeah I’m fine! I’m just a bit hot and sweaty from practice, I should probably shower.” Yuri said quickly.
“Okay…” Otabek murmured, unconvinced. “If you don’t feel better after the shower, call Viktor or Yuuri or someone like that. And make sure you drink a lot of water. And eat properly. None of that energy bar nonsense-”
“Okay mom, jeez. I’m fine, really.” Yuri said, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t get smart with me, young man.” Otabek said jokingly.
Yuri rolled his eyes, snorting.
“I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll call you later.”
“I really can’t stop you can I?”
Yuri laughed, ending the call and flinging his phone onto the other end of the bed and pressing his hands into his face.
listen. sometimes it’s going to be so hard you’re going to come home, cry, and question your entire being. you’re going to let yourself down. it’s going to feel absolutely crushing.
and then time will move it all under the carpet. you’re going to drink some water, get more sleep. you’ll pet a dog and laugh at a dumb joke your friend tell you. these small moments will be your saviour. catch them in the palm of your hands and hold them like the most precious thing you own.
just give it some time, my love. give it a little bit more time.
Draco: Well, walking around Muggle London all day without a wand would qualify as stressful.
Harry: I’m sorry you damaged your wand, but I’m not sitting at Ollivander’s for 12 hours while it gets repaired.
Draco: I asked you to come with me so I wouldn’t have to stay alone, not to drag me through the city. I still feel sick.
Harry: Fine, wait here.
Harry: *comes back from a street vendor* Drink this.
Draco: What is it?
Harry: Ginger ale
Harry: It’s a damn soda, ginger’s good for nausea, just drink the thing.
Draco: You’re seriously trying to get me to drink a potion from a tin can?
Harry: *deep sigh* It’s not a potion.
Draco: I can’t believe, after everything I’ve been through, you’re asking me to put my health into the hands of a Muggle potion. How do Muggles even know to use ginger? There’s a statute of secrecy, you know…
Harry: Fine, give it back. I’ll drink it.
Draco: *looking scandalized* No! You bought this for me. *actually takes a sip*
two days later
Draco: *sitting at his desk surrounded by 8 empty soda cans and a half-drank Red Bull*