lacy pink bralettes, paint stained hands, messy ponytails, face flushed from the cold, chipped nail polish, tiny diamond earrings, constellations painted on the ceiling, iced tea on hot summer days, oversized sunglasses and lowcut swimsuits, the smell of freshly cut grass, a bouquet of flowers waiting for you when you get home
gold nails and high heels, nude lips and highlighter that you can see from mars, infectious laughter, intertwined fingers, backless dresses, marble floors, crystal champagne flutes, the coolness of the pool, lying outside and cuddling under the stars, taking your heels off to dance, midnight swims
ink stained hands, lightning, eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch, blood red nails, the smell of fire, always being barefoot, old leather bound books, black coffee, the ash on the bottom of the pot, the moon covered by clouds, harsh laughter in silence, long unblinking stares, black silk and subtle gold jewellery, rubies, the reflection of firelight in someone’s eyes
the crackling sound of fire, hard wood floors, silk sheets, standing on the balcony in the cold night air, the hushed silence of the library, copper pots and pans, cold hands, braided crowns, the crunch of autumn leaves, late afternoon sun, fiery eyes, singing when no one’s listening, burgundy lips matched to her dress, rare but fiercely tight hugs
herbal teas, ribbons in her hair, cold feet still wet from the grass, flowers tucked behind ears, glossy lips, absentminded smiles and glazed eyes, the sweet smell of flowers, morning sun, daffodils, fleeting glimpses of coloured fish just below the surface of the river, apple orchards in the afternoon, blushing at compliments, singing songs in other languages under her breath, crying out of sympathy
books worn at the edges from being read so many times, cozy sweaters and blankets, curled up beside the fire, mugs of hot chocolate, fiercely loyal relationships, late night phone calls, boots shiny from being polished so many times, sitting at the window during thunderstorms, witty comebacks and cheeky smiles, skinned knees and high heels, carefully painted nails with just one smudge, reading late into the night, never following the recipe when cooking, fighting for her friends, silly arguments about ridiculous things, trying to see shapes in the clouds, memorising constellations, lavender scented bath bombs
wickedly beautiful, lips matched to her nails, wandering around in lacy underwear, silk dressing gowns, shoe shopping with her best friends, always being the little spoon, quick to forgive, slow to forget, dancing in the rain, hot showers after a long day, hanging mistletoe above every doorway, perfectly put together outfits, shared smiles over inside jokes, gentle kisses, sleeping with her head in someone’s lap, absentmindedly playing with her hair, always quick to defend her friends, lying on the roof and staring at the stars
yellow gold, glossy eyelids and bold brows, brave even in the face of grave danger, sunsets over the ocean, gold crowns, jewel-toned dresses, hoop earrings, old worn maps, books scattered all over her desk, citrus scented soap, eyes that light up when she gets passionate, fiercely protective of people she loves, shiny nails, crawling into bed after a hard day, tiny tattoos, warm hugs, putting her faith completely in her friends, butterflies
silk dresses with makeshift weapons strapped to her thighs, hugs from behind, the early hours of the morning when the world is silent, tears sliding silently down her cheeks when no one is watching, beautiful flowers growing in empty wastelands, an old coin tucked away in her pocket for luck, calloused hands, whispered promises under the cover of night, epsom salts and dried lavender, childlike eyes, cunning mind, sweet smiles that turn to smirks when you look away, broken quills and spilled ink, the buzzing sounds of insects in the summer, abandoned but beautiful manor houses, strangely coloured butterflies, trees with an eerie glow, even when she is broken that look of steely determination in her eyes
wicked smiles, sleek and shiny hair, blood stained lips, the wind ripping her hair from her braid as she flies, roses with thorns, icicles shattered in the snow, silent streets, cats drawing out their claws, flickering lights, hauntingly beautiful voice, the scrape of claws against stone, an apple with one perfect bite taken out of it, eyes of pure gold, scales of a snake glinting in the light, calculated movements and snide comments, the shimmering haze of a mirage, the shriek of metal against metal
spiced cakes, silent steps, turquoise silk that moves like water, voice as clear as glass, witty jokes, boots of softest leather, kohl rimmed eyes, ears studded with tiny earrings, thick hair tied back by leather with the shortest pieces framing her face, simple but expensive clothing marked by the gold accents, raw and honest, nicknames that only your family call you, a cool calm when she’s hunting, broken pieces of glass that catch the light, empty cups of coffee left everywhere, wrapping yourself in a warm towel after stepping out of the shower, the smell of freshly baked bread, tiled floors and roaring fires in the winter, brick chimneys, that first sip of hot soup that burns your tongue
flushed cheeks and bright eyes, sand blowing in the wind, dimples, rosy lips, yellow sundresses, cheeky comments whispered to the person beside her, infectious laughter, smooth round pebbles that are warm from the sun, the sun peeking through the clouds after it’s rained, the feeling of bare feet against a plush carpet, massage oils and herbal teas, salty ocean breeze, the hushed silence of the library, the feel of old parchment, freckles, photos and quotes pinned to a cork board, scented candles, the yellowing pages of old books, afternoon sun shining through wooden shutter blinds, the sticky sweetness of honey
Since Yuri!!! On Ice has been stuck on my mind for the past few months days, I decided to write a fic for it :)
This lovely AU fic is for @barechu for an art trade! I hope you like it! I tried my best with the lovely prompt you sent me (I fell in love with it the moment you sent it).
Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to shake off Viktuuri anytime soon.
None of the characters are mine. All copyright to the creators of Yuri on Ice.
Snow pelted the large bakery windows softly at 1 PM, sliding down the clear glass before mingling with the rest in a pile at the bottom. Yuuri Katsuki watched in wonder at the snow outside, his hands absentmindedly pouring another layer of cake batter into the metal cake pan in front of him. It didn’t matter if he had lived in Hasetsu, Japan all his life; snow would always be something otherworldly to him. Especially since it was Christmas today.
“Yuuri, what are you doing in the kitchen at this time? We have customers.” his sister, Mari Katsuki, called from the front.
Yuuri snapped out of his trance, abruptly pulling away the bowl he was holding so the cake batter would stop its descend to the cake pan. He was making a Napoleon Cake, and it took a pain stakingly long time to pour every individual layer and baking it. But he didn’t mind. It was Christmas after all. Glancing behind him, Yuuri raised an eyebrow at his sister where she stood at the open doorway between the kitchen and the front counter.
“I’m making the special for today. I saw a recipe online for Napoleon Cake when I was searching for things to make last night,” he paused, moving to set the cake pan into the oven once more, “It’ll be done in 30 minutes, you can handle the front for now, right?”
Mari rolled her eyes with a nod, the most acknowledgement she’d give her brother for his obsession with baking. It was, after all, what made him open this cafe: Hasetsu Cafe - one of the most well known in the small town. At the age of 20, Yuuri had decided to fulfil his dreams with the money he had earned from his previous jobs. Four years later, at 24, it had become one of the biggest successes in his life.
As the oven dinged, signalling that the next layer was ready, Yuuri bent down to bring it back up onto the counter.
Just three more layers, he thought as he slowly poured the cake batter once more with precision.
Like he expected, it took him 30 minutes to finish the cake, moved it onto a ceramic cake platter that was adorned with a green and red ribbon for Christmas, and set it into the freezer display in the front counter. With a proud smile, Yuuri went over to the black chalkboard settled beside the counter and added Napoleon Cake to the top of the specials list for the day with his blue chalk:
- Napoleon Cake
- Hazelnut Latte Cake
- Gingerbread Cake
With a smile still intact on his face, Yuuri went back to clean up the mess he had made and to change his flour covered shirt to his specially nice button up he brought over for Christmas. Albeit he was still going to wear the bakery apron over it. Slicking back his hair and wiping his glasses clean one last time, Yuuri joined his sister in the front counter who was beginning to struggle with the number of customers walking in through the front door.
“Counter’s open!” he announced loudly as customers began to line up on his row. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his Christmas.
Viktor Nikiforov never knew how to feel during his birthday. Of course, it was Christmas day too so there was some form of happiness he felt. But for some reasons, his birthday always reminded him of loneliness - even with many of his friends being in Japan at the moment ready to celebrate in a few hours at the hotel he was staying at.
½ cup unsalted butter softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs at room temperature
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 ¾ cup sifted cake-and-pastry flour
1 ½ teaspoon baking powder
1 pinch salt
½ cup milk
2/3 cups whipping cream
½ cup strawberry jam
Grease and flour 8- or 9-inch (1.2 or 1.5 L) round metal cake pan; line bottom with parchment paper. Set aside.
In large bowl, beat butter until light and pale, about 2 minutes. Beat in sugar, 3 tbsp (45 mL) at a time, beating for 30 seconds after each addition, about 2 minutes. Beat in eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each. Beat in vanilla.
In separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt; sift into butter mixture alternately with milk, making 3 additions of dry ingredients and 2 of milk. Scrape into prepared pan.
Bake in 350 F (180 C) oven until cake tester inserted in centre comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool in pan on rack for 10 minutes. Turn out onto rack; peel off paper. Let cool.
Filling: In bowl, whip cream. Invert cake onto platter. Using long serrated knife, cut in half horizontally. Spread with jam; top with cream. Replace top of cake. Sift icing sugar over top.