Inspired by History Maker Couture, the fashion magazine from Kings in Couture by slightlied / @forovnix! AKA the Devil Wears Prada AU you’ve always wanted. That story’s made my life in so many ways ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡
kic au where everything is the same but instead of the jeans(tm) it's the skirt(tm)
shoutout to the anonimals™! yall are so cute and funny thanks for keeping me company on goog docs :)
half of this was unnecessary but it’s because the universe won’t give victor a break womp womp soz vic
Yuuri stares at himself in the mirror.
The skirt is short, is the thing. It’s leather, with a diagonal zip on the front and a small cut over his right thigh. His knees brush together as he shuffles his feet self-consciously, and he stumbles backwards until his shoulder blades meet the wall of the fitting room.
“Yuuri, can I see?” Phichit’s excited voice floats from the other side of the door. “C’mon, c’mon, lemme…”
Yuuri takes a deep breath and pulls the door open, screws his eyes shut.
“…see the—holy shit, Yuuri.”
Yuuri exhales, keeps his eyes closed. “How bad is it?” he demands. When Phichit doesn’t reply, he peeks one eye open. “Phichit?”
His friend stares at him, slack-jawed. “You’re…”
He throws his face into his hands. “I knew it, this was a terrible idea.”
“Really, really hot, Yuuri,” Phichit finishes. He breaks into a smile. “Victor’s gonna freak.”
“It’s not for Victor,” Yuuri mumbles, cheeks pinkening. “Mila said I had to shop and—”
“And we’re getting you matching shoes with that outfit.” Phichit practically hauls him out of the fitting room. “Keep it on, let’s go pay.”
Yuuri pays for the skirt, miraculously maintaining a straight face at the hundred dollar price tag. One skirt. One skirt.
Phichit finds him a blouse at Dolce & Gabbana, platform shoes at Prada (“One day, I’ll get you to wear heels,” Phichit promises) and Yuuri is convinced that he doesn’t care, at all, about the state of his bank account.
“I hope this means you’ve got my half of the rent covered next month,” Yuuri tells him as his card gets swiped for the third time that day.
Phichit snorts. “If you’re still my roommate next month.”
Can you write CF Victor meeting KIC Yuuri and flirting with him because he thinks it's CF Yuuri
It’s impossible to find people on the busy streets of New York City.
Yuuri had wandered into a shop about an hour ago, and Victor’s stomach is rumbling in protest–his phone is dead, and he needs to find him so that they can go grab lunch. He wonders if Yuuri has already gone back to the hotel or if he’s still shopping, but then he catches sight of some tempting coffee cake inside of a Starbucks and those thoughts are stilled.
He’ll get coffee cake, bring it back to the hotel, and then wait for Yuuri. That’s the plan.
Except Yuuri is waiting in line, at the same Starbucks. How ironic. Victor grins, hoping to surprise him from behind. He comes up to him and grabs his sides, laughing. Yuuri yelps and spins around on his heels–he had changed outfits?–and his eyes go huge. “Victor!”
“You changed your clothes,” Victor comments, kissing his cheek.
Yuuri blushes violently, as though Victor has never done that before. Victor brushes it off as his surprise. “Did you just…?”
Victor leans back, admires the pants that he’s wearing and raises his eyebrows. Tight jeans. “Did you buy those just now?” He whistles, low, so that nobody else in the Starbucks can hear. His gaze, however, had been practically unmistakable. Yuuri stares at him in shock.
“They’re–they’re new,” he stammers, then shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to buy you coffee cake,” Victor explains, bumping Yuuri’s shoulder with his own. “But it looks like you had the same idea.”
“I’m not buying coffee c–what are you wearing?” Yuuri gasps, and his eyes dart around the building, as though afraid of what people will see.
Victor looks down at his white t-shirt and baggy jeans. There’s a faded band logo on the shirt. He frowns. “What? Do I look bad?”
“No!” Yuuri yelps, then covers his hand with his mouth. “No, no, I’m just not used to seeing you… To seeing you dress like that.”
“Well I’m not used to seeing you dress like that. You look like a fashion model or something,” Victor mumbles, then kisses him again. Yuuri flushes even harder this time, reaching up a hand to touch the spot where Victor’s lips had been.
“I… Victor, you’re confusing me. A lot.”
“Victor!” a voice calls from outside of the Starbucks.
A familiar voice.
He turns around.
Sure enough, Yuuri is standing outside of the Starbucks. He’s smiling, and then his eyes land on… Yuuri. Who is inside of the Starbucks. And his expression shifts to one of pure horror. Victor glances between them, squinting. Slowly, Yuuri approaches the other Yuuri, their eyes raking each other’s forms. A few other customers have started to take notice, gasping and taking photos.
The fashionable Yuuri sucks in a breath, takes a stumble backwards. “Who are you?”
“I’m Yuuri,” Yuuri breathes, and he takes Victor’s hand, squeezing it. “Who are you?”
Fashionable Yuuri’s phone rings. He glances at the screen, then his face pales. “And that’s…” His eyes dart to Victor, lock in on him. “Victor?”
What's up with Spike's scar? He has some kinda magical powers, right? :o
Yes he does :) It’s called Pure Magic, basically the root of all good Magic. On his planet, there was only one other who was born with it, and that was his ancestor, the first High King of Marya. That king was born with those scars, and received the one on his chest later on. So whenever Spiek uses his magic, those scars appear on his body in the same places. They only last as he’s using Magic, though, so they’re not permanent. They burn the first few times he uses his gift, but eventually he gets used to it. He tries not to use his magic too often though, half because it drains his energy like there’s no tomorrow, and the burning effect of the scars wasn’t comfortable at first.
KIC Viktor and Yuuri meeting TBE Viktor and Yuuri? XD if only there was a way for them to meet in that fic where all the Yuuris and Viktors met each other XDD
ohmygod. you heckin kNOW. yall heckin know i love fic crossovers. bih. alright i got @victorsporosya‘s blessing and some of these were contributed by her and this is only part one [clears throat] we bring you…
the couture experience (part one)
in which victor and yuuri agree to meet in the hotel bar because “let’s take a break and wind down a little before we meet with the luxottica reps tomorrow, shall we?” victor had suggested, much to yuuri’s disbelief. (victor? winding down a little?)
and in which victor and yuuri agree to meet in the hotel bar because… that’s what they do
aka kic vicyuu and tbe vicyuu have plans to meet, but instead encounter they’re other-universe partners
“Your hair is down,” is the first thing Victor tells Yuuri when he approaches him at the bar. He says it with wide eyes, studying him with what seems like intense fascination.
Yuuri flushes under his gaze. “It’s usually down,” he mumbles, tugging at his fringe. “Besides, you said we were here to relax, so I left everything back in the room.”
Victor shakes his head and wraps an arm around his waist. “No, miliy, it looks good,” he says happily, pulling him close. “I didn’t know you usually put it down like that. You should do it more often with me.”
Yuuri frowns in confusion, shifts in Victor’s grasp. “What are you… what’s miliy?” He sniffs. “Is that a new cologne?”
Victor beams at him, and Yuuri’s stomach flips. “Do you like it?” he asks, voice thick and eyes darkening. Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“Uh,” he stammers. “Yeah. It’s nice.”
Victor’s smile widens, impossibly, and Yuuri shivers as the fingers around his midsection dig into the skin. There’s something slightly off about Victor tonight, but he notices the empty glass on the bar and chalks it down to alcohol.
“Wow, when you said you wanted to take a break, you really meant it,” Yuuri comments later on in the night. He’s practically in Victor’s lap now, and if he weren’t so tipsy he’d be going out of his mind. He reaches out impulsively and touches Victor’s hair, and when the man leans into his touch—nope. Nope, yeah, Yuuri’s still capable of losing his mind right now. If his subconscious were capable of having physical properties, it’d have a terribly sore throat from the internal screaming. “You haven’t checked your e-mail once.”
“Hmm?” Victor doesn’t seem to have heard his question. “No, tell me more about what you did in college,” he mumbles into Yuuri’s neck. “And everything after.” He pauses. “And everything before.”
Yuuri giggles, chest warm. “You’ve already seen my resumé.”
He’s so, so warm. He grabs his glass, drink since finished but he sucks on the straw anyway, sips at the water melting off of the ice cubes.
Victor looks affronted. “I do not want to know what’s on your resumé.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Just because I didn’t have anything related to fashion before working for you… heyyyy.” He frowns and jabs a finger into Victor’s chest. “No more talking about work. We’re off the clock.”
Victor blinks. “Off the clock?” Slowly, the brilliant smile breaks out on his face again, wattage turned up so high Yuuri wants to take his eyes out with the tiny umbrella in Victor’s cocktail. “You mean it?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what you—Victor?!” Yuuri yelps as Victor attaches his mouth to Yuuri’s neck and bites.
kic = kings in couture = fashion editor victor and secretary yuuri tbe = the boyfriend experience = still a skating legend victor and escort yuuri
part 2 with eros yuuri and kic vic comin’ soon to a forovnix near u
I totally headcanon that in @forovnix‘s KiC, Yuuri comes in with those jeans and then he’s just trying to focus on getting through the impossible list of things he needs to do for the day but everyone reads his focused face as sultry face and it causes the equivalent of a multi-car pile up whenever he walks by.
In other news, it’s been a while since I’ve drawn. I’m super rusty.
Features of this fic, Kings in Couture, include: The Jeans™, plot twists, good writing, lots of fashion references (some of which I understand and some of which are over my head because the author is e x p e r i e n c e d), The Jeans™, and, of course, The Jeans™. All of these features are, in fact, found, in Kings in Couture by @forovnix or slightlied.
“Yuuri, oh my god,” Phichit squeals through a mouth of chow fun. His eyes are wide as saucers.
“Shut up, I can hear you thinking. You nerd.” Phichit rolls his eyes. He makes a beckoning gesture with the chopsticks in his hand. “Lemme see it again.”
Yuuri grudgingly hands over the binder mockup of HMC’s next issue. It’s thick; seventy-something pages long and covered in various notes after a full day of being passed around between each department. Yuuri’s meant to proofread them and deliver a report to Victor in the morning.
“Don’t get oil on it,” he mumbles. He helps himself to chunks of braised tofu as Phichit flips through the pages, thumbing at the pink post-it notes.
Pink post-it notes. Victor’s notes.
“One, two… three… four… five, six—six! Six love letters so far and I’m still only on page five,” Phichit exclaims. He slaps his thigh excitedly with his chopsticks hand, flinging drops of vegetable oil onto the hardwood floor of their living room.
“They’re not love letters,” Yuuri insists, blushing furiously. He squirms where he’s sat cross-legged on the floor at the coffee table and gives his friend a warning look. “They’re just…” He trails off, not really knowing how to describe the several post-its containing variations of
“They’re just love letters, yeah,” Phichit finishes for him, snorting. He gazes dreamily back at the binder. “So what did he do, just hand you the binder and say, ‘Please give me a comprehensive report and your un-manicured hand in marriage by the morning?’”
Yuuri grinds through the tofu in his mouth and swallows quickly. Glares at him all the while. “No. He said, ‘Please have the comprehensive report by the morning, I know it’s heavy so you can take your leave early. Don’t skimp on the details.’”
He doesn’t say why he’s got this memorized. He doesn’t say that he’s almost no longer needed to take down notes on anything Victor tells him anymore because he remembers every word that leaves his mouth.
“Don’t skimp on the details,” Phichit echoes. He gives Yuuri a funny look. “He’s so weird. Why doesn’t he ask you out like a normal person?”
“He doesn’t want to ask me out. He’s just…” Yuuri makes an exasperated noise and runs a hand through his hair. “Confusing.”
So, so confusing.
When Yuuri hands Victor the binder and the report in the morning, the editor-in-chief holds up one hand to signal for him to wait. Yuuri waits patiently as he scans the report, watches Victor’s eyebrows knit together and his teeth sink into his bottom lip.
Victor nods when he finishes. “Very good. Yeah.” He coughs and looks up at Yuuri. “Was that all?”
Yuuri feels his face heat up. Was he meant to acknowledge the hearts after all? He did end up leaving a—
“Chris said he’d bring by more sketches later, didn’t he?” Victor asks, then.
Yuuri flushes, shoulder sagging. Of course. Of course. He doesn’t know why he keeps letting Phichit’s words get to his head; he always ends up wrong. “He said he’d have them in by noon.”
“Sounds great.” Victor gives a close-lipped smile and nods again, turning back to binder. Yuuri takes that as his dismissal and steps out, cursing himself all the while. He sincerely hopes Victor had missed the —YK♡ he’d left at the bottom of the report.