oml imagine if Victor one day found Yuuri's poster collection of him (probably shoved under Yuuri's bed or somethin) and like Yuuri walks in to find them in a stack on his bed all signed. And when he's about to say something Victor just WHACKS out a stack of posters with Yuuri like "it's your turn" *seductive wink* bonus: "screw the posters just sign my ass"
I JUST NOTICED THAT YUURI ACTUALLY BROUGHT A VIKTOR POSTER WITH HIM TO UNI HE’S SO CUTE HELP
AND A LITTLE POODLE PLUSHIE PROBABLY TO REMIND HIM OF VICCHAN this boy is killing me how did I not notice that this was his room until now
FUNNY TO NOTE that it’s the same poster he has displayed in his room once he gets home again
and also the one they show at the top of the pile once he panics and rips them all off the walls
AND ALSO THE ONE THAT MYSTERIOUSLY ENDS UP IN VIKTOR’S ROOM AFTERWARDS
I KNOW I SAID THIS BEFORE BUT the fact that Viktor might have found Yuuri’s poster collection and recovered this specific poster is the wildest thing (OR he just brought his own poster because well it’s Viktor Nikiforov and I wouldn’t put it past him)
it seems very likely that this is Yuuri’s absolute favorite poster of Viktor and the fact that it might also be Viktor’s favorite poster of himself is just SO CUTE
This took me so long. Not the poster itself because the drawing was easy and fast to do. But the idea behind it. I’ve been thinking about Gemma for so long, but how to portrait a character like her? I knew I wanted to highlight her love for Mathematics but it was more challenging then I thought. Until Solve for i.
Bear in mind, this poster is pre Solve for i, so that’s why the half heart.
Book : Under My Skin | Author : A.E. Dooland (asynca)
top five fantasies victor had about yuri that yuri accidentally shattered
1. yuuri katsuki: international man of mystery
yuuri katsuki is not an international man of mystery. he is not an assassin, or a spy, which victor had begun to suspect by the time he first arrived in hasetsu. and that was a shame, because victor thought he could only be seduced that thoroughly by spies, and being an assassin would explain why he never called once, vanished into thin air, never to be seen again, probably not having existed at all. victor scours his room for clues while yuuri is in the bath, but instead of coming up with a secret weapons cache, all he finds is a hastily stashed collections of posters featuring himself. yuuri katsuki is definitely not an international man of mystery.
however, he is the most beautiful skater victor’s ever seen in his life. he lets music possess him, and when he smiles it sets victor’s whole body on fire because he feels like he earned it. yuuri katsuki is beautifully, wonderfully ordinary. he likes bad hip-hop, milk-flavored candies and he still reads comic books. when he speaks, he’s painfully sincere, more than victor’s ever been about anything in his entire life. he’s completely see-through, once you know where to look. and victor likes that even more.
2. yuuri katsuki is not a classy broad
when victor dreams of yuuri katsuki after the grand prix banquet, he anticipates a man more cultured. which is stupid, because yuuri was a mess the night of the grand prix banquet, but victor had seen him dance, and he thought only a man of refined tastes and pleasures can move so delicately when hammered, and so when he would write dream dates in his dream date diary he would write about taking yuuri to staraya tamozhnya or percoso or EM after a night at the opera, where victor would have blown yuuri thoroughly during an act of carmen in a private box. they would order ten course meals the size of their palms and yuuri would dissect the the wine menu and demand to see the sommelier. he would let victor spoon feed him sweetbreads and sea urchin and shark fin soup, close his eyes and moan.
on the way back from cup of china, they stay overnight in nagasaki before heading back to hasetsu. the restaurant they go to was secretly booked two months in advance, because if victor hadn’t kissed him by now, he was setting himself a deadline. the menu is a 14-course pre fix that thematically incorporates black walnuts.
yuuri orders the house red for 600 yen on happy hour. he wears the same terrible suit with the same awful tie he’s worn everywhere since victor’s known him. he does not like black walnuts. victor eats both of their portions.
which is fine, but it’s mildly disappointing. but on the way back, yuuri’s stomach growls, and victor feels so dumb about the whole thing until they pass by a small supermarket in a mall by the hotel, and yuuri tugs him by the hand inside without saying a word. he quietly picks out ingredients that amount to 1000 yen altogether, roughly 39,000 less than victor spent on dinner, and takes them back to the hotel. then he’s almost mad about it. they get back to the hotel and victor feels a Mood coming on, but then he looks at yuuri who is smiling shy to himself.
“i did this a lot in college,” he says, pouring water from the sink into a cup of noodles. he’s got the hotel’s iron upside down on the vanity and is cooking an egg on it.
“what,” victor says.
“you’ll see,” yuuri replies.
three minutes later, victor has the best meal in his life, second to only yuuri’s mother’s katsudon.
3. yuuri katsuki doesn’t have a foot thing
“what do you mean you don’t have a foot thing?” victor says confused. “everyone has a feet thing.”
“everyone does not have a foot thing, victor,” yuuri says, rolling his eyes. he wiggles his toes at victor anyway, feet in the air. “now c’mere.”
he lets victor fuck his feet anyway.
4. yuuri katsuki is not afraid of ghosts
“victor, what did you expect?” yuuri asks after the movie.
victor had expected to have yuuri curl up under his arm. victor had expected yuuri to hide his face during the scary parts and breathe against his chest, tuck his forehead in the curve of victor’s neck. instead, victor almost threw his drink at the screen and screamed yelled no less than six times.
“i thought you would be scared,” victor admits. the ghost girl made him cry.
“victor, i’m japanese,” yuuri says.
5. yuuri katsuki had an awkward phase
yuuri freaks out when he finds a video of an old performance on the internet, and immediately contacts the person who uploaded it to get it removed.
victor just sees part of the costume over his shoulder and stills. “yuuri. is that you?”
yuuri turns around, wide-eyed, trying to hide the screen behind his back. “no! definitely not me! just some–some weird kid!”
“when was that taken?” he hadn’t seen it in his first yuuri katsuki youtube fest 2014. or his second, two months later. or his third, fourth, or fifth for that matter. if someone out on the internet had more videos, he needed to know who it was.
“never,” yuuri says.
“yuuri.” victor frowns at him, and when that doesn’t work, tries puppy dog eyes.
“my freshman year of college,” yuuri admits. “it was–college in america was weird. i let go for a little bit.”
“like you overate?” victor asks. he’s heard from other skaters in juniors who left the sport for school in the states–they called it the “freshman fifteen.”
“no, like i,” yuuri says, stops, looks away. “i may have spent an entire month on ecstacy.”
“what,” victor says.
“i, i, i liked to party? for awhile, anyway, and it was fun, and i lost control, and anyway, it was just for awhile, but i was still listening to a lot of terrible music by the time i started working on the first free skate for my senior debut, and–”
victor’s snuck around him as he’s been shamefully staring away, and he starts laughing. “are you kidding? you skated to darude’s sandstorm? we have to watch this.”
yuuri tackles victor straight into the table, breaking the laptop. it is three more days before victor can finally watch the video in peace, hiding in the bathroom with his cellphone, before he contacts the guy to ask if there are more.
Jasper Hale imagine requested by anon. “hi! could you do a jasper fic where the cullens all leave for a hunting trip to lo-key give jaz and y/n some alone time in the house? like theyve been dating for months and jasper and y/n make love for the first time and shes super nervous because shes a virgin and its super tender and sweet? thanks!” Hope you like it!
Your parents were under the assumption that you and your boyfriend’s twin sister were spending the weekend in her adopted parents’ home while the Cullen boys went camping on Mt. Rainier; as innocent a gathering as could be expected. In their eyes, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about; their daughter was spending time with a respectable family, under the watchful eye of the doctor’s lovely wife Esme, surrounded by her charming boyfriend’s female sibling… only the camping trip wasn’t as exclusive as you had let on, and you would instead be spending time at the Cullen residence with Jasper. He had come to escort you to his home, dressed to the nines in the best hiking gear money could buy, shaking your father’s hand with a polite smile before leading you into the passenger seat of the silver Volvo he had borrowed from his brother. It may have been suggested that his brother’s car was a safer option than his motorcycle, and with the understanding that you preferred your father didn’t collapse into cardiac arrest, Jasper had agreed to sacrifice his preferred mode of transportation for the unassuming vehicle you now found yourself within. Jasper slid effortlessly into the driver’s seat, bidding your parents goodnight before settling in beside you, sealing the normalcy of the world away with the hushed suction of a closing door. It wasn’t long before the delectable scent of him flooded your airspace, perfuming your world with hints of lavender and sandalwood, intoxicating you with the sheer beauty of his presence. His eyes remained glued on the rear-view mirror as he backed out of your driveway, exhibiting proper driving technique while in your parents’ line of sight, proceeding down your street for at least a minute before his hand found yours between the seats, the chill of his skin soothing the worry from your brow. The entirety of his family was as far north as Canada on a hunting trip. You and Jasper would be completely alone.
“Hey, relax, darlin’. It’s just me,” he whispered, his butterscotch eyes finding yours within the dimly-lit cabin of the Volvo, his features illuminated by the neon of the dashboard instruments. He had no need to look at the road; his peripheral vision was just as attentive as his eyes were on you, and his reflexes quicker than anything that could possibly present as an obstacle in front of your vehicle. His thumb traced circles against the backside of your hand, massaging the stress from your body, if not your mind. Sure, it was just him. He couldn’t have stated the sole reason behind the surges of anxiety that flooded your body any simpler than that; it was just him, and just you, alone together for an entire weekend. It was a major advance in your relationship, and he was a poster child for collected calm, as if tonight were no different than any other. You ducked your head, squeezing his hand lightly, marveling momentarily at the give of his alabaster skin… so hard, yet so soft. You wondered, briefly, how the rest of him might feel… You straightened your thoughts, tidying the corners of your mind until every last straying image was safely swept into order, thanking your lucky stars that Jasper wasn’t the family’s mind reader. Jasper didn’t ask what had you so wrought with tension; you had a good idea he knew, but was far too polite to voice his suspicions, a perfect Southern gentleman to the very end. Instead, his mind flooded through the stagnant air and into yours, warming your limbs in waves as a feather-light cloak of ease hushed over your body, his eyes fighting to coax yours out of hiding before he settled for merely gazing in your direction. “I love you,” he promised, his whisper low and aflame with the heat of his truth, the tenor of his voice ringing with honesty as his eyes burnt twin holes in your temple. You lifted your gaze to his, losing yourself briefly in the honey of his stare, his smile eliciting your own as he turned the steering wheel, his grip so certain, so sure, his eyes only leaving yours for a moment. When the hypnosis of his eyes was broken, you redirected your eyes to stare aimlessly out the window, watching the cedars pass in blurred patches of emerald darkened and diluted by the ink of the night.
“I’m okay, Jasper. You don’t have to… calm me down,” you chuckled, your laugh almost foreign to your own ears, speaking to the reflection of his eyes mirrored in the glare the utilities projected onto the glass of the window. “I’m good, really. Thank you, though, for offering. You’re a sweetheart.” Jasper’s brow lifted in disbelief, hearing the confident lie roll from between your lips on the back of a wave of compromising emotion, your unease as plain to him as your voice was clear. You rolled your eyes, smirking as you tightened your hold on his hand. “Alright, I’m a little upset that Rose won’t be joining us. You’ve caught me.” Jasper let loose a quiet laugh, his lips thin as he fought the urge to bend to your humour, his mind still obviously distracted by your physical discomfort. Even if he were unable to taste the tone of your emotions, he would have heard the stammer of your heart as it frantically sought an escape route through the spaces between your ribs. He shook his head a fraction, as if to align his thoughts, his palm spreading over your knee, gently smoothing over your denim with a more human breed of comfort, leaving your reasoning to stand alone, no prodding or inquiries involved. You watched the forest flash by, your heart thrumming in your chest like the wings of a hummingbird, your pulse skyrocketing as Jasper pulled into the extended driveway leading to the Cullen household. He sighed to hear so obvious a sign of distress, his lips pressed into a fine line when you turned to address the sound, his eyes concerned as he analyzed the winding path through the thick of the forest. You were silent when the car pulled up before the intimidating house, your hands clasped in your lap as Jasper removed the keys from the ignition, quieting the engine and enhancing the leaden stillness that surrounded the two of you. He exhaled deeply, turning in his seat until he was facing you straight-on, his hands reaching for yours, the smooth marble of his skin sparking against you, adrenaline coursing through your veins like venom.
“Y/n, would you please let me help you?” he asked, his voice pleading and sincere, you met his eye, smiling halfheartedly, your cheeks burning with the flow of blood that rushed to warm your face. His brow knotted with helpless worry, his eyes bright with the extent of his agitation to see you so restless. “At least tell me why you’re so nervous?” he pleaded, his palm covering your own, sending thrills roiling through to settle in the pit of your stomach, your body warm beneath his comparably frigid touch. You shrugged, searching for words polite enough, innocent enough, harmless enough that you wouldn’t end up offending or causing any confusion. Jasper’s hand extending toward your face, cradling your cheek in the silken palm of his hand, his thumb working over your cheekbone, brushing just beneath your eye. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can tell me anything, darlin’, it’s part of the package. Trust me, there’s nothing you could say that would drive me away, nothing you could say that’d… wound me. I’m virtually indestructible, remember?” you giggled then, surprised at the tremor in your voice, your eyes watering just slightly, your cheeks burning brighter as you became aware of the sensation. Jasper’s hand remained on your cheek, his fingers coaxing an answer from your lips, or perhaps your mind, his eyes anxiously awaiting your reply. You felt the air rush from your lungs, your brain resolving to spill your fear at his feet before your body could revert to your more primal instincts and reject your intention.
“I’m just…” you paused briefly, your heart seizing in your chest, prompting Jasper to respond with a much-needed surge of calm. You cleared your throat then, your eyes finding his in the dark. “Thanks. I’m just… I know what this is about.” Your words hung in the air, speaking volumes while saying so little. Jasper’s jaw clenched visibly, catching the intention behind your blanketed statement, his hand moving downward to rest against your neck, your pulse racing beneath his palm, his skin tantalizing yours. He didn’t make any move to speak, or to leave the vehicle, awaiting further explanation despite his clear understanding. “I mean, I guess it’s just… we’re alone, Jasper. Truly alone, and I…” your voice trailed off, your eyes melting into his, the tides of borrowed calm lapping at your feet as Jasper lent you the ease to continue. “I’ve never done this before.” Realization flickered behind his eyes for the briefest moment before quickly, professionally, he returned to his previous standing, his features open and curious. “I’m just nervous, is all.” Jasper grinned sympathetically, his eyes dancing on yours.
“Terrified, it feels like.” You lowered your gaze, embarrassed, only to find Jasper’s index finger at your chin, lifting you back to meet his eyes, his features soft and gentle. “We’re not going to do anything you aren’t prepared to do, you have my word as a gentleman. It’s enough for me just to spend time with you, no time constraints, no prying eyes, no interruptions. I’m in this for you, Y/n, and nothing else. I love you. If you want to go slow, we’ll go slow. We can crawl forward, for all I care, so long as we’re together. I am perfectly content with whatever you choose to do.” You smiled, thankful, leaning toward him to close the space between you, your lips pressing against his. He returned the tender affection you offered to him, his lips molding to fit yours perfectly, his hand winding through your hair, holding you as delicately as if you were made of glass, separating only when the car’s headlights clicked off from lack of movement. “You ready? To head inside, I mean?” You giggled, nodding your confirmation to his double-edged inquiry, your heart leaping in your chest when he disappeared from his seat, your door opening swiftly at your side. Within a single breath, he had lifted you from the seat, holding you in his arms like a newlywed bride, kicking the door closed before walking as easily as if he were unburdened towards your house, abandoning your overnight bag in the backseat. You laughed aloud at his pageantry, his eyes rolling at your reaction. “It seemed appropriate, Miss, to walk you over the threshold. I’m attempting romance; don’t go injuring my ego.” He continued forward, smirking when you mumbled pointedly about his claim of indestructibility. He strode over the polished floorboards, pressing a kiss to your hairline when you clung to his shoulders after he set you on the couch. You wrapped your arms around his neck, refusing to release your grip as he moved to stand, your heart racing as he playfully fell on top of you, bent by your iron strength. His lips pressed against your throat, his honey hair sweeping against your cheek as he wrestled with your human weakness, contorting until you were cradled in his arms, his eyes glowing warmly behind the thick fringe of his eyelashes. He paused, then, noticing for the first time the subtle shift in your emotions. “What…?” he began, your lips pressing to the corner of his mouth.
“I’m…” you began, your voice feeble and weak, your fingers threading through the golden strands of his hair, his eyelids fluttering at your touch, searching yours for answers you had yet to properly advocate. You returned his open stare, your hands trembling as they cupped his cheeks, your thumbs stammering over his cheekbones. “Jasper…” His breathing was shallower, quicker, his lips parting as he prepared to speak.
“I thought you were…” you inhaled the scent of him, so much stronger now that you were all but pressed against each other, watching him come to his conclusions. “You said you were nervous? You’re still nervous, I can… I can feel it, but…” his voice trailed off, his head shaking once between your hands. “Y/n,” he breathed, your name an oath on his lips. “Do you want this?” Your cheeks burned under his stare, your heart thrumming with a strength you hadn’t imagined possible, your head nodding when you found your voice had failed you. Jasper swallowed then, his voice producing a soft, sensuous tone, blossoming into the silence instead of interrupting it. “You’re sure?” You nodded once more, pressing your lips to his as you finally spoke your reply.
“Yes.” He moved against you as you had never known him to move, his tongue darting over your lip with a slow, sugared patience, his arms wrapping securely beneath you before he moved to stand, hoisting you once more into his arms, his lips never parting from yours. His body was marble-hard beneath your hands as he ghosted up the stairway, moving with inhuman speed to the sanctity of his bedroom. He laid you atop his sheets, resting your head against his pillows, moving to hover over you in the same movement, his weight suspended above you. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertip lingering on your jaw, his eyes lavishing you as if you were the most precious stone, or perhaps an idol forgotten by all but him. He waited for your approval, his eyes watching yours, a delightfully warm sense of calm licking at the soles of your feet when your nerves tightened in your stomach. “There’s no need. I’m okay.” He arched his brow, his influence retracting as you stroked his cheek, your touch tender as you worshiped his flesh. “I love you, Jasper.” His eyes burned from within, his lips repeating your vow as he descended on your lips.
“I love you.” He melted against you, his every muscle, every inch of his skin pressing against your body, his fingers working the fabric from your waist, parting from his kiss to remove your garment completely. You shied away from his gaze for the span of a minute, opening once again when he had removed his own shirt, his hands tentatively caressing the skin at the bottom of your rib cage. “So beautiful…” he whispered, his lips lowering to press slow, honeyed kiss to your abdomen. Your hands instinctively tangled in his hair as his hands worked the button of your jeans, undoing your pants and working them from your legs, leaving you bare before him in your undergarments. His hands found your hips, then, lifting you from the sheets until you were pressed against his chest. Your fingertips trailed curiously down the center of his chest, reaching lower and lower until you discovered the waistline of his jeans. His breath caught with your own when, surprising the both of you, your hand wandered further south, brushing timidly against the bulge his pants concealed. His eyes met yours then, blurred by the relative darkness, boring holes into your very soul. He was still in your arms, moving only when you did, your hand shifting along the coarse denim as you traveled upward to unbutton his pants. His chest expanded beautifully, his lips crashing against yours, moving swiftly to the line of your jaw, marking you with fervent kisses. You worked the button loose, and Jasper was standing by the bed, kicking his pants off entirely before crawling above you, his hand ghosting over the cup of your bra. You thrilled at the contact, arching your back to make the process of unhooking the garment easier. You wriggled free of your straps, watching Jasper’s eyes devour the sight of your uncovered chest, his hands moving with a patient slowness to cup your breast in the palm of his hand. Your breath rushed from your lungs, Jasper’s eyes flitting to your face, your lips parted in bliss. He smiled, then, before his fingers were working beneath the waistband of your underwear, slipping the fabric down your legs until it no longer clung to your body. He pulled you once more into a kneeling position, his eyes hungry on yours.
Your heart hammered in your chest, your nerves alight with naked electricity as Jasper knelt before you, removing the last piece of clothing that masked the full glory of his chiseled body, his eyes never leaving your face as he worked himself free of his underwear, his erection uncovered, the both of you bare before each other. You inched toward him instinctively, his body reacting in a similar fashion, his hands closing around your waist as he dissolved the distance between you. His palms stroked your hips as his lips found yours, his passion translating fluidly from his mouth to yours, his hands clinging to your back as he settled you back against the pillows, his body arching over yours. Your hands moved to tangle once more in his hair, stopping suddenly in their path as Jasper’s hand caught your wrist, his eyes on yours as he kissed the tips of your fingers. You pressed on, your hands at the nape of his neck, his eyelids closed in bliss as your lips found the muscle of his shoulder, a small sound of pleasure escaping from between his lips. He hovered over you, straightening moments later, his hands parting your legs with gentle precision. He nestled himself between your thighs, his eyes never once leaving your burning face, his hands massaging the creases of your hips. You nodded, almost desperately, reaching to pull his body back over yours as he prodded against your entrance. Your mouth opened at the carnal contact, your cheeks warm with the fire of your blood as Jasper eased himself inside of you, his eyes burning with a heat you didn’t know him capable of as he shifted his hips, working himself deep within you. He moved slowly then, until he stilled, his lips at your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek before speaking your name. Your fingers clung to his back, urging him forward.
He obliged, thrusting deep within you, his movements subtle and captivating, his every shudder sending you gasping for breath where none existed. He rolled his hips, his lips on your neck, your hands grasping for a holding on his shoulders. He moved slowly, patiently, enjoying and allowing you to enjoy every sensitive inch of him inside you, his hand moving to grasp your hip as he thrust within you. He rolled sideways, lifting you with his movement until you rested on top of him, his arms propelling him to a seated position, his hands deftly re-positioning your legs until they wrapped more securely around his waist. His eyes, heavy-lidded, were locked on yours like a magnet as he lifted your hips and lowered you onto him, your breath rushing from your lungs, carrying his name on a low moan. He smiled, pressing his joy to your collarbone as be repeated the movement, your voice producing sound without formulating words. Jasper’s movements became faster, though never rushed or hurried, his hands grasping your hips with a tender security, his breathing laboured as your body began to tremble. Your mind was clouded, the pulses of his hips meeting your own sending deafening waves of pleasure through your body, concentrated at the meeting of your bodies. Your mouth was open over a wordless cry as you clung to all you could, holding his gaze with the will of one desperate for salvation, your breathless whisper of his name the last conscious sound you made before you collapsed against his chest, your body humming with ecstasy. He shuddered beneath you, thrusting through his high, his hands smoothing over the curve of your spine before he stilled within you, his head tipping backwards. You lifted your face from his shoulder, resting your forehead against his, catching your breath together, your fingers tracing the lines of his cheekbones. He smiled, breathless with love, his hands cradling your cheeks to bring your lips to his, punctuating the night with the sweetness of a kiss.
He held you as you both collapsed to the sheets, your legs tangled blissfully, your cheek resting on the firm muscle of his chest. He reached blindly for his bed sheets, covering what he could of your body before resting fully against the pillows. You traced the lines of his chest, your heart calming as your breath regained stability. Jasper’s fingers toyed absentmindedly with strands of your hair, his quiet breathing lulling you to sleep,
your bodies melted together as evidence of your devotion, safe in the comfort of his loving arms.