Viktor had a relationship once- why not? He’s hot and people confuse him and his usage of mascara- when he was young. The details are blurry to Viktor these days, but he was too excited and he was delusional with the prospect of love back then, almost a cringe worthy moment for Viktor when he remembers these things late at night.
It was how you would imagine it. Viktor, looking back on it now, wondered how seemingly enthusiastic he managed to be in the two year long crusty ‘relationship’ they had. There were these little sprinkles of affection, shy blushes and the kind of exploration young crazy teenagers do during their young crazy lives, but there was nothing special about it.
He was an art major. Viktor figured they were compatible, two pieces of puzzles sliding together in delusional harmony, with Viktor’s artistry out on the ice and his on his canvas.
What made him special, amongst the other folders of exes he had locked away in a metaphorical file cabinet, was the fact that he was the one who stayed the longest.
Viktor was a fucking whirlwind. Nobody could keep up his tiresome training schedules, his absent meals, the long hours spent at the rink. His ex wrung it out as far as possible, trying hard to be understanding and patient at first, until finally, he broke.
“You’re… You’re too much.” He finally hisses after another failed date night. Viktor doesn’t have the heart to deny the statement. “You’re fucking selfish. You… You revolve around nothing but the ice! No hobbies, no ambitions, nothing but that stupid gold fucking medal you always win anyways.”
Viktor doesn’t flinch, doesn’t feel anything at all. He was right. He was right.
“And then what? What happens when your body tires out, huh Viktor? What happens if you lose?” He says, there are tears brimming his eyes. Viktor doesn’t have the heart to well up a tear. “I tell you, you’ll regret it. You will have nothing.”
When he walks out the door, Viktor realized that he had nothing the whole time Not even the satisfaction of being complete.
When Chris asks him if he had any plans to get into a relationship anytime soon, he’d laugh. I don’t have the time. He’ll say. Nobody is willing to stay. His mind pleads.
And then comes Yuuri.
He realizes many things: Yuuri was an even bigger whirlwind. He was deadly and dangerous and beautiful, Viktor had felt the thrill of standing in the eye of a storm when he holds Yuuri’s hand, when he sees his smile. He was beautiful. He was deadly.
Yuuri spends even more time in the rink than him, eyes focused and determined and Viktor watches in awe from the side because he felt like he just got crushed by an avalanche and Yuuri wasn’t even breaking a goddamn sweat. He was fragile and strong, loud and quiet, an enigma Viktor has yet to solve.
Yuuri was beautiful. Yuuri was perfect.
He’s perfect when he takes Makkachin out for walks, when he looks over his shoulder and tosses Viktor a teasing little smile, when he wakes up in the morning with bed hair and crusty eyes, when he’s crying and broken and Viktor doesn’t know what the fuck to do and Yuuri calls his bullshit out for it, when he skates, when he lets Viktor hold him, when he’s Viktor’s.
Yuuri was his.
Yuuri would stay.
One day, while in a hotel bar as he waits for his dearest, he spots someone across from him with the eyes of a ghost from his past.
“I’m opening up a gallery somewhere.” He says when Viktor asks the standard how are you out of sheer politeness. He hasn’t changed, maybe getting edgier and manlier, finally not the young art major he used to be. He has grown. Viktor has grown too.
“The… The Japanese man. Is he…?”
Viktor smiles, purposely setting his hand on the marble counter to show off the gleam in the golden band. The memory of Yuuri sends another warm flutter in Viktor’s heart. God, it’s been years. “Engaged.”
He smiles and nods, seemingly happy for them.
“You love him, truly.”
Viktor purses his lips around his glass. Of course he does, why wouldn’t he? Yuuri was kind and beautiful and smart and all his.
“The moment I mentioned him… you looked like the happiest man in the world.” He says, shaking the glass in his hand, swirling the amber contents. Viktor does not feel any resentment in his voice, but he feels cautious at the incoming topic. “You’re truly happy. It’s amazing.”
Viktor narrows his eyes, just for a fraction. “What made you think I wasn’t?”
He raises an eyebrow. Are you fucking kidding me? Viktor couldn’t blame him. “Your eyes shine, you perk up, and hell, I didn’t even notice that your smile was heart shaped before. Now your grin is bigger than ever.”
Viktor cracks a smile, leaning back against the counter.
He sets the glass down, smiling softly. “I’m happy for you.”
Viktor’s happy too. Truly. He was right. And for once, he was glad that he didn’t decide to stay.
“Do you want to come to the wedding?” It was a little weird to invite your ex to your wedding, but Viktor wasn’t one to follow social norms.
He accepts before finally leaving, one last goodbye between them.
Yuuri finally arrives a few moments later, cheeks flushed and burrowed adorably under a scarf. God knows how torturous Russian weather can be. “Who was that?”
Viktor smiles, kissing Yuuri’s knuckles before lacing their fingers together. “No one of importance.”
During their wedding, Yuuri dips him in for a kiss. Viktor never wanted to let go of the moment, but they crumble on the floor laughing. Chris was discreetly installing a pole in the banquet room and he had to prevent tears more than five times in the past two hours. Yurio resentfully gives him tissues from the sidelines
Viktor might’ve thought that he’ll never get the satisfaction of being complete, thought that he’ll never stop being a whirlwind, but Yuuri carries him away and swept him off his feet, launching him into the air laughing and giggling.
He spots him in the crowd, talking to the girl he brought with him- possibly his now girlfriend, Viktor thinks she’s lovely- and they connect gazes.
He smiles, raises a glass like a toast.
Viktor raises his own glass back.
Viktor was happy. Viktor was complete. Viktor was satisfied.
Dialogue prompts: 9, 37, or 47. Love your writing!
Thank you so much lovely anon! Dialogue prompts were “You’re in love with her.” + “Lie to me then.” 47: “Why are you
whispering?” Set in season 6, around Arcadia.
“What is he doing here?”
That’s the first thing Bill Scully says, or spits rather, when he opens the
door. He doesn’t look at his sister, who he hasn’t seen in months, but only at
her partner. The spooky man who is followed by doom and therefore has no right
to be here, at his house, with his family; at least that’s how Mulder
interprets Bill Scully’s current expression. Mulder tightens his grip on to the
plate with the huge cake neatly tucked into too much tinfoil that Scully pushed
into his arms moments ago.
“He was invited.” Scully
rushes past her brother, leaving Mulder outside in the cold, fending for
himself. When she’s angry she can forget him, sometimes. They’re similar in
that way. He knows this. Mulder offers the cake like a peace offering. Or
something. Bill stares at it. Then back at Mulder. His eyes narrow and for once
they’re in agreement: they both wish Mulder wasn’t here.
“No one told me you were
invited.” Mulder isn’t surprised.
“I was told you were fine with
it.” He replies; he really should have known better. Bill yanks the plate
out of his hands, the only outlet for his anger, and leaves the door open so
Mulder can enter. He’s not welcome here, that much is clear, but Bill Scully
Jr. is not going to let him rot outside. Mulder closes the door quietly behind
him, taking a deep breath. He should have said no when Scully asked him to come
with her to San Diego. He should have insisted. He had, if he remembers
correctly. Until that moment when Maggie Scully herself called him and told him
to be there or else.
Right now he thinks or else would have
been the better choice.
“Fox!” Maggie Scully
downright squeals when he enters the kitchen as discreetly as he can muster.
Several heads turn; he recognizes Tara Scully, his very own Scully, and a woman
he has never seen before, who looks almost as uncomfortable as he feels.
“Hello Mrs. Scully.” She
grabs him and engulfs him in a tight hug.
“I’m glad you came,” she
wipes at his cheek, a motherly automatism, “I wasn’t sure.” She adds
more quietly glancing at her son, who is busy trying to free the cake from the
“You remember Tara, don’t
you?” Bill Scully’s wife offers him a warm smile and a strong handshake.
“Nice to see you again, Fox. Oh,
you prefer Mulder, don’t you? Dana always calls you Mulder!” She laughs
uncomfortably and blushes deeply.
“I’m fine with either.” He
assures her and he is certain he can hear Scully huff.
“And this is my other daughter-in-law,
Sandra. She’s Charlie’s wife.” Mulder and Sandra exchange a handshake and
a nod that seems to say I’d rather be somewhere else right now.
“Is Charlie here? I’ve never met
“He’s expected later
tonight.” Maggie Scully tells him and he watches Sandra’s expression
soften, just thinking about her husband getting here, saving her from the rest
of his family. Mulder turns around to look at Scully. She’s leaning against the
counter, her arms crossed in front of her. Not even she wants him here. He
can’t blame her, not really. They might have the x-files back, might be back
together professionally, but the ramifications of the last months are still painfully
palpable. Diana, he thinks bitterly, swallowing her name and the thought. Things
that were said that shouldn’t have been said. Things done. He stares at her,
bites his lip, and she turns away from him, nudging her brother and helping him
get the tinfoil off the cake. Mulder is convinced that no one will eat it
Maggie Scully shoos them all out of the
kitchen when it becomes apparent that neither of them is any help. Tara and
Sandra are talking about babies; little Matthew is upstairs sleeping. Sandra
and Charlie, apparently, are trying. Mulder tries to catch Scully’s attention,
but she’s either willfully ignoring him, or truly lost in her own world. He
feels anger well up in him. If she really doesn’t want him here then why didn’t
she just say so? He is sure she could have come up with an excuse for him. Her
brother hates him already, what’s a few more Scullys? He could have taken it.
“Can I talk to you a moment?”
Bill Scully’s voice is harsh and it’s way too close for Mulder’s liking. He
nods, swallows hard. He follows the other man, wherever they’re going, and now
Scully looks at him. Mulder wants to ask her to save him, please, but his mouth
is dry, his mind empty. Which is why he doesn’t first notice that Bill Scully
is leading him outside. Once there, he towers over him, his hands on his hips,
his face dark. He’s going to punch me, Mulder thinks, or worse.
“You’re in love with her.” Of
all the things Mulder expected Bill Scully to throw at him this is not it.
“You are, aren’t you? You’re in
love with Dana.” It’s not even a question.
“You sure you want to know the
answer to that?” Stupid, Mulder. Stupid, stupid. He doesn’t want to make
Bill even angrier. He just doesn’t want him to know before he’s had a chance to
tell Scully. Well, he has told her. And she didn’t take him seriously. Oh
“Lie to me then. Make me try to
understand why my mother – my own mother – invited you here. If you love her…if
you are in love with her… I still couldn’t stand you, but. I saw the way you
just looked at her, Mulder.” He used to look at her a million different
ways, or so he thought. Depending on the time of day, on her mood, and mostly
his. On where they were, or why. On what she was wearing. In the end he
realized it wasn’t true. There might still be a million different ways he looks
at her now. Except they all mean the same.
“I’m not going to lie to you,
Bill,” Mulder begins, “I do love her. I am in love with her. We’re
not… we’re not together though, if that’s what you mean. But yes. I’m in love
with her. Have been for a long time. She doesn’t feel the same way. Not like…
she’s not in the same place. I came here because your mother invited me. If… if
Dana doesn’t want me here either, I’ll just leave. I’ll just… leave.” As
if on cue, the front door opens and Scully steps out.
“You’re not making him leave,
Bill.” She tells her big brother and Mulder knows that tone all too well.
It means business. He’s been on the receiving end of it often enough.
“I wasn’t going to make him
leave.” Bill mumbles and stomps past Mulder. He stops in front of Dana and
for a moment the siblings stare at each other, then suddenly, they’re hugging
and grinning. “Glad you could make it, sis.” With that he disappears
inside. Scully walks towards Mulder and he watches her, wondering what she’s
thinking. But he’s always wondering.
“What makes you think I don’t want
you here?” Her voice is soft, as are her eyes.
“I thought… I don’t know, Scully.
We haven’t talked much lately, have we?” She shakes her head no, takes a
step closer. They’re almost touching. The urge to take her into his arms is
“But just so you know, I do want
you here. I’m glad you’re here.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now
and Mulder lowers his head to hers, just to hear her better. He tells himself
that’s the only reason, anyway.
“I’m glad to be here, too.”
“You’re not the only person in
that place, Mulder.”
“You said I’m not in the same
place you are. But I am, Mulder. I am.” She’s lost him. He stares at her,
not understanding a word she’s saying. She watches him, hoping he’ll catch up,
which he doesn’t, and takes his face into her hands.
“I’m in love with you, too,
Mulder. You’re not the only person in that place.” With that, she puts her
lips on his softly, just a test, merely a tease. Her hands remain where they
are, her thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.
“You are?” He’s whispering
now, too, too scared to say it out loud. She nods, grinning. “Why are you
whispering? Wait, no, how do you even know what I said?”
“We could all hear you and
Bill,” Scully tells him, still whispering, “the baby monitor.”
She points at the colorful monitor sitting there in the grass. “Tara
forgot to bring it inside after playing with Matthew. I’m glad she did.”
WAIT im dying remember when fob performed centuries for the first time live on jimmy kimmel???? and patrick wore a jacket with the lyrics “heavy metal broke my heart” spray painted onto it… and then it was later revealed that PETE was the one who spray painted it onto his jacket before the show jahfhghfjdjd9349URUICIF and then now the mania patch cardigan.. Pete wentz making custom promo fob merch for patrick.. a solid mood..
I CAN’T DRAW but y'all know that meme where Character A swears and Character B starts screaming and drags the sweet and innocent Character C away only for Character C to repeat the swear and Character B screams and murders Character A?
That meme, except Nursey says a very moderate curse word (eg. “damn”) and Bitty screams and drags his sweet baby Chowder away only for Chowder to later drop a sentence containing approximately five (5) curse words - all much “worse” than the curse word Nursey used.
Instead of screaming, Bitty silently lies face down on the ground as it finally sinks in that CHRISTOPHER FRANKLIN CHOW IS A FULLY GROWN COLLEGE ATHLETE AND NOT A SMALL CHILD.