The cool air whipping at your skin made a shiver spread along your spine, hands rubbing at your biceps as your teeth chattered behind your pressed together lips. Loud laughter and screams filled the air, the night lit up by warm orange hues of carnival rides and haunted houses. Your feet felt stiff, trapped in a pair of uncomfortable sneakers you regretted wearing, eyes glued to the back of Minseok’s head as he told your friends something apparently hilarious. It was far too cold out to be stuck in a stupid line for a stupid haunted house in a tank top and torn up skinny jeans. You were too annoyed to continue being stuck in front of Chanyeol and Sehun as they flirted with a group of girls behind you, Chanyeol’s cologne wafting to your nose whenever he moved his arms about.
could you possibly please rec a couple of your fave fics? ♥️
Ok, so I’m assuming: klance fics? Alright, here we go:
texting fics (I love those kind of fics. They almost always seem to nail characters’ personalities and texting style and are so funny to read. The ones I’ll mention now are my absolute fav from this category):
Completed. Keith and Lance are stucked on a planet which citizens believe they are heroes destined to save them. The thing is they have to get married. Aka: Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Shiro are texting while Keith.exe stopped working. I don’t remember it very well, but I know I had fun while reading. Also, @xxxkaseixxx recommended it to me, so I already knew it’s a good one before starting.
Ok, so it’s not really texting fic but it’s a first part of a series where second part is texting fic. You don’t have to read that one to enjoy it’s continuation but I’m strongly reccomending it, because it’s a joy, I remember that one quote (about Keith’s mullet) made me laugh histerically at 3 a.m.
The story is: Voltron is a Radio Station beloging to Allura and her family and: Black, Green, Yellow, Red and Blue are it’s hosts. The station menagers decide that if all radio hosts specialize in certian topics and have already established base of listeners then Station can be even more popular if hosts would be paired with each other. Turns out they were right. Completed.
One of the first fics I’ve read in this fandom. I don’t remember it very well but the general impression is that it was quite enjoyable. Except that…pining!lance was…very extremaley thirsty and I’m not very fond of Keith being pictured as some sex object. The fic is well written, it’s not like Keith is dumb but pretty. It’s just when you see him through Lance’s eyes it may be uncomfortable for some people.
Lance, Hunk and Pidge are dancers who strongly admire dancing duo Keith and Shiro. Some stuff happens, Lance goes on dancing camp and guess who’s an instructor? Completed.
Ongoing. Shiro and Allura are getting married and Keith - as Shiro’s best man - needs to take some dance lesson because it’s important part of a wedding. So he takes them from Allura’s maid of honor - Lance. There is some actual knowledge about dances so it’s cool. Also, Keith’s a florist.
Also one of the first fics I started reading in this fandom and only recently completed.
Lance is a college student who tries to cut of his addiction to coffee and maybe switch for tea… Keith conviniently is a hot as hell barista in a bubble tea shop. And also college student, double majoring because he’s awesome and perfect and dead inside.
Slow burn torture. Like, really. Agony, but don’t we love it?
Anyway, title kinda tells what it’s about. Hunk decided that Lance as a roommate is too distracing so he moves out but finds Lance a new roommate so he can pay his rent. New roommate turns out to be Keith, Lance’s highschool rival and bisexual awakening. Another one of those where Keith thinks Lance is straight.
*sigh* Probably will never be completed and, unfortunetly, it WILL leave you hanging. So keep it in mind if you’ll decide to give it a try.
But I had to put it on a list becacuse it’s one of the first etc etc and there is a sentence that will probably stay with me forever: „Lance is a person of many acqaintances, but very few friends”. And I get it, I so get it. When you’re charismatic you attract people easily. But only some of them will stay with you after knowing you better.
Keith falls in love at first sight but will he still like that charming stranger who’s actually rude, obnoxious and tactless when he’ll spend more time in his company?
This one is about how on every planet that Paladins visit citizens mistake Keith and Lance as a couple. It happens so often that Pidge decides to collect data and analize it from scientfic point of view. Completed.
I hope it was a helpful list~
Edit: I don’t know how could it happen but I forgot to add one more of my most favourite fanfics:
Keith witness Lance’s “death” and that experience traumatize him. Later when Lance is A-okay he still needs to check on him and can’t get any sleep due to terrible nightmares. Turns out sleeping near Lance helps him get some rest at night, when he can always make sure his friend’s alive.
Great writing. Interesting study in depression (Lance) and feeling alienated in group (Keith). Ongoing- and I’m personally dying to know what happens next, because resent events sort of left us hanging.
(☉‿☉✿) I know y’all have been craving some Viktuuri fics, even more so since it’s already ended and we have to wait for season 2. So what better way to pass time than to read some good ol’ fanfics. Here’s a list for you guys. ENJOY
Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, winner of five consecutive World Championships and five straight Grand Prix Finals - was in Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri’s bumpy, squeaky bed, with the Pokémon stickers peeling off the frame and the unwashed sheets. “Smells like you,” Victor mumbled, careful and coy.
Yuuri was on the verge of passing out.
Or that one time Victor finds out why Yuuri has never let him inside his bedroom because….well, we all know why…
Yuuri has developed a habit. Before competitions, whenever he wants to concentrate and exercise at the same time, he faces the wall, braces his forearms on it and then wiggle his hips while trying to recite over and over again his routine.
With earphones in and eyes shut, he doesn’t see the way others stare at him. Viktor does, though, and try to bring their attentions away. Phichit and Chris are little shits, as usual.
“The instructor at the local ice rink was cute. Cute with his glasses on and downright sexy with them off. And Victor just really wanted to spend some alone time with him, but there seemed to be no free time in the other’s schedule. Which left Victor considering other methods.”
In which Victor pretends he isn’t a figure skating genius all so he could talk to Yuuri.
Yuuri gets experimental and tries out something new in bed – calling Viktor “daddy” – but because of Viktor’s insecurities about aging, things go unexpectedly (and absurdly) wrong. [Not a daddy!kink fic so much as a humorous subversion.]
“Viktor, it’s your turn to throw the garbage, right?”
“Nope~ Can’t remember such an agreement~” Viktor sing-sang, tiptoeing back to their bedroom.
“Yuuri, did you eat my pint of ice cream while I was out?”
“H-Huh? No way!” Yuuri spluttered with a speck of chocolate on the corner of his lips.
With each other and Makkachin by their sides on their own cozy home with framed (stolen, random and wedding) photographs occupying most of the wall, Viktor and Yuuri couldn’t ask for more.
[Basically, just a domestic Viktuuri fluff wherein Episode 11 was resolved, both of them retired but they both applied as coaches [with Yuuri as skating tutor for kids], they got married and were now living happily in their own home with Makkachin in Spain. Alternating POVs.]
Victor remembers the confusion, hurt and rejection when he finds the empty hotel room that had once been occupied by an individual bearing the name of Katsuki Yuri hours ago, and said individual was now en route to Japan. He remembers sinking to the carpeted floor in his pajamas before returning to his own room to curl up in his comforter. He remembers Yakov coming over to help him pack with pity evident in his eyes when the check out time had long past and Victor was nowhere to be found. And all Victor could do was lie immobile on the bed with tears he thought would never end. He remembered lecturing his own self mentally, that it was ridiculous to act this way for someone you had only met once, but yet, he could not deny the fact that last night was the first time Victor had felt honestly living, relieved from the burdens and expectations as a renowned and international ice skater. Being with Yuri had felt absolutely right.
or a fic of how a heartbroken Victor had fared since that banquet and how he finally won Yuri’s heart
“Finally!” somebody shouts and Yuuri jumps. Russian Yuri stomps toward him, expression dark. “He’s on his third round of that.” Yuri jerks a thumb to the rink behind his back. “Make him stop before he hurts himself.”
Aka Yuuri says “let’s end this”, Viktor turns to melodramatic skating, they get to cry and kiss (in that order) and all is well in the end.
“Viktor…” Yuuri’s voice was low and gravelly, his teeth grazing the bend of Viktor’s neck, “Is it really okay to keep going?” His cock stirred inside of Viktor, still rock hard, still eager. The feeling of Yuuri’s semen trickling slowly out of his stretched hole made Viktor shiver, and he grabbed Yuuri’s chin in his hand, yanking his face up so that their eyes could meet.
“I’ll say this once, Yuuri. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t stop even if I beg for you to.”
There are things Yuri isn’t proud of, regardless of how superior to everyone else he is. Few things, of course, but still there nonetheless, though he loathes exposing them. One of his regrets might be, for example, not reading the summary of Fifty Shades of Grey before his mom mentioned off-handedly, “We should watch it, Yura.” (He can never look at her in the same way again.)
Going out for Victor’s “ exciting stag night” (which is a terrible name for it, as it mostly consisted in him sitting down and watching skaters get progressively drunker as they tried to do jumps off ice on the corner of a busy street, while everyone stared) and allowing himself to be roped into a hopeless bet has just become his newest, most fresh regret.
Viktor’s voice breaks Yuuri out of his trance and he focuses on Viktor, waiting for the words to come out. But Viktor doesn’t say anything more, eyes flickering between Yuuri’s eyes and mouth, and then his finger stops moving and he pulls it back.
He looks like he has more he wants to say, but doesn’t.
Everything was so easy and real with Yuuri. Even with the lingering tension and the unspoken inevitability of separation, they somehow managed to fall back into something close to a routine, effortless conversation, easy jabs and quiet smiles and something he wanted to hold on to for the rest of his life. Home.
Or the one where Victor thinks he’s doing the right thing, manages to disappoint all the Yuris in his life, and still everything works out at the end.
It hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary at the time. Victor had always been free with his affection; throwing out compliments, light caresses, even the occasional peck to the cheek. After a little over a week of having him as his coach, Yuuri was sure he had gotten used to it. It was just a Westerner thing, no use getting riled up if Victor wasn’t going to be stopping it anytime soon.
Then it happened.
Victor likes kissing Yuuri and Yuuri is frustratingly dense
Viktor Nikiforov is a genius. He tops the level without having to study and he can perform most spells without his wand. He was the second-ever first-year Seeker in the school, and the first Slytherin one at that. He’s a Parselmouth and he’s tamed the other basilisk hidden in the school’s plumbing. He has washboard abs and really defined hipbones. He’s the only son in a long line of pureblood Slytherins and he’s half-Veela and he can speak Mermish and he was born as Voldemort’s secret daughter which is why he’s prettier than half of the girls in school and—
‘Where do you even get all these?’ Viktor asks, eyebrows drawn together in bemusement. ‘I’m not even a pureblood, I’m Muggleborn.’
But even with his hands restless by his sides and his stomach buzzing with butterflies and adrenaline and nerves, Yuuri finds that he oddly doesn’t mind the attention. Or rather, Yuuri can’t bring himself to care, for once. He’s exhausted to the bone from his performance, eyes slow and limbs heavy from running on little to no sleep for more than 24 hours now, not to mention kind of emotionally drained from his mental breakdown earlier.
If anything, Yuuri kind of wants Victor to kiss him again. Preferably right now.
“Viktor will do whatever is necessary in order to never see Yuuri cry again. He’d walk miles across broken glass. He’d relinquish all of his gold medals to JJ Leroy. He’d let Phichit hack his Instagram account.”
Viktor and Yuuri are jealous of Makkachin on multiple occasions, but the adorable brown poodle might be the only way to get them to realize their love for one another.
He can’t look away from Viktor, even when he turns and catches him staring. Truth be told, he can never look away from Viktor. Not even in the beginning; surely, not in any dimension or attic of spacetime, could Katsuki Yuuri have ever looked away from Viktor Nikiforov. And when Viktor looks back at him, smiling, it’s all that matters to him.
Viktor is growing old, and his competitors seem to be growing younger and younger. Thus, with every passing year, Viktor finds fewer familiar faces at his Grand Prix banquets, and he wonders whether his attendance has become pointless. What he doesn’t realize, however, is that one unfamiliar, alcohol-reddened face can make the whole night more than worthwhile.
(A canon-compliant retelling of the banquet in which Viktor falls head-over-heels for a certain drunk, Japanese figure skater, and Yuri Plisetsky is both displeased and incredulous).
“If anyone should feel lucky, shouldn’t it be me?” Yuuri murmured. “I mean, you’re the Viktor Nikiforov, after all. You could have anyone you want….”
Viktor let his breath fan evenly over Yuuri’s neck as he listened to his words. Though he couldn’t see it, he could imagine Yuuri’s knit brows and small frown. He tightened his grip around Yuuri’s waist and thought about what had happened earlier in the day. This was a different scenario, but Yuuri was feeling anxious and unsure again, and he needed comforting. Viktor didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted to do things right.
Yuuri swallowed, letting his head turn back to the legend sprawled out on his bed. To the first person to reach out for him after he’d pushed them away. To the man that had taught him to love himself and taught him to want things because he could get them if only he tried.
Viktor Nikiforov is an accomplished, world famous dancer-turned-choreographer who has struck out to rekindle a spark he seems to be missing after so many years on and off the stage, only to soon find it wrapped around a stripper pole in Japan.
‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’
A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.
Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.
For the second time, the Sochi Grand Prix Finals arrive, and with it a reborn Yuuri Katsuki. “Viktor,” Yuuri thinks over the pounding of his heart, the crowd going silent as the music begins. “I’ll show the world what you meant to me.”
Yuuri often thinks of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything other than his childhood idol.
“Is this because I let you watch American movies as a child,” says Yakov flatly. “The ones where the popular boy gives his coat to the pretty girl?”
Victor puts up both eyebrows in a delicately mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was a fey creature of sixteen and makes Yakov yearn to clip him around the ears now, when he’s twenty-eight. “'Let’ me?” he says.
Now fully awake Victor could feel his morning wood pressing against his lover’s ass. Damn. He wondered if Yuuri would be upset if he woke the student up for a short love making session before work and school.
If Otabek were a bystander, he would see Victor Nikiforov being a ruthless coach, raising his voice at Yuri’s less than stellar free leg, It’s a normal occurrence, the older retired skater pointing out areas Yuri can work on.
But Otabek is not a bystander, and he sees the glint of a golden ring from Victor’s right hand, slipped around his ring finger like a reminder.
A reminder that Victor, estranged with nowhere else to go, was picked up by Yuri and Yakov to go back to Russia so he can have a semblance of a life back.
It had been two days since the house next door had been moved into, and today, Saturday, it seemed that whoever was going to live there had finally moved in themself. It was all anyone in the neighborhood would talk about, Morooka had even stopped by for a surprise visit so that he, Phichit, and Yuuri could watch their new neighbor from Yuuri’s kitchen window.
The only cue of someone even living in the house was the chitter of a sprinkler in both the front and back lawn.
“He’s got a pretty nice looking car, from here,” Morooka commented.
“Yeah but who has a nice car and moves into a shady house?” Phichit retorted, his question seemingly rhetorical. After a beat of silence he made a tch sound and cocked a hip, “Only pimps or rich kids running from their super sad and oppressive lives, that’s who.”
Yuuri is just a 21 yr old college student who is trying to win at life. When he gets into an argument with his roommate, Phichit, he rushes out of the apartment to make amends. The only shop he can afford is a dainty flower store in the busy city of Detroit.
Recently, it’s become a trend for students to exchange rings with their significant others. Although Yuuri is very much single and uninterested, he wears a pretty ring that mostly goes unnoticed by his peers. That is until Victor Nikiforov starts wearing an exact copy of Yuuri’s ring and flaunts it around.
After two years Viktor and Yuuri finally get married. They rent a Hotel near Detroit, in a beautiful and snowy place. Everyone’s here. The future husbands are idiots. Phichit is a best man. Christophe too. And somehow he’s even more dashing than usual. This is gonna be a merry mess.
@v-nikiforov - The handsome playboy has returned to town. Please pay special attention to my Free Skate tomorrow. ♥♥♥
There’s no way that Victor, Yuuri’s childhood idol, could be calling Yuuri a handsome playboy, just because they’d met eyes at two skating events. Besides, a total stranger had given Yuuri the tickets. It would be totally absurd.
Yuuri frowns, turning his head on the pillow. Wouldn’t it?
“Here’s the thing, see,” Victor breezes. “Yuuri mysteriously misplaced his suppressants, so now he’ll be going into heat. It’s a terrible shame, I know, but I could never leave him to deal with this on his own. I’m his alpha, remember? And his coach. And his fiancé.”
“It’s the middle of the season!” Yakov roars. “Vitya, you can’t just–”
“See you in five days!” Victor says brightly.
Then the line goes dead.
Yakov hurls his phone at the window in impotent rage, and it actually makes a bigger dent than Yurio’s did.
“I wish people would stop doing that,” Georgi sighs.
Yuuri’s neck was bright red, matching the colors of his cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded with pupils blown wide. He could try to avoid Victor all he wanted, but standing this close to the man made Yuuri lose all rational thought. Victor was like a drug, the strongest drug Yuuri knew, and he could never reject those lips.
College AU where Yuuri is a grad student addicted to fucking his ex, and Victor is secretly suffering from heartbreak.
When Yuri’s childhood crush showed up at his door, naked, full of impossible promises, the young skater didn’t even know what to think. When Yuri somehow ends up with said childhood crush in his bed, however, his body does the thinking for him.
“You look just like the poster in my room,” Yuuri slurred, barely holding himself up in Viktor’s arms, “but you have more clothes on.” He giggled. The words hit Viktor hard, and he didn’t know how much more his weak gay heart could handle. He barely even noticed Yakov leaving the room with his head cradled in his hands.
Or in other words, what really went down at the banquet last year, and what that meant for them now.
So that’s it for now! I’ll update this from time to time but here are some of the fics I found
Remember to give kudos to the authors!
UPDATED!! (January 02, 2017)
((I know that I didn’t really add a lot but I promise I still have some that I’m going to post, I just feel really lazy atm
(▰˘◡˘▰) haha whoops. I thought about making the updated fics into a separate post, sort of like a part two but eh, I decided no to. If there are some repeats from the earlier fics I rec’d let me know so that I can edit it out and also, if you want to submit a fic, please do! ◕‿◕
A compilation of ideas I have read or thought up! I do not claim originality for this post. Some ideas crossover between fields and are not repeated.
Program your drawing tools with intent - for lighter/darker lines, for clarity of the stroke, for following through with the motion, for consistency.
Draw sigils on your drawing board or easel or table for inspiration.
(And if you’re using a flat table to draw, consider getting a drawing board. Drawing large on a flat surface distorts your POV.)
Energize your brush water for better removal of paint.
Draw a sigil on your palette or mirror/glass for paint to keep your paints moist for longer.
Use a clothes pin (for pink rubber erasers) or a 2B/light graphite pencil (for the kneadable erasers) to draw sigils for better removal of lines.
Enchant all your tools - brushes, paper pads, canvases, pencil cases, anything - for durability.
Program a stone (of your choice) to prevent loss of your tools and keep it in your backpack, pencil pouch, or portfolio bag.
Draw sigils on the back of your finished works for extra attention.
Sacrifice the first tip of your pencils and charcoal (both light and dark and especially anything past 6B) to a jar, and put a spell on the jar to keep your light lines light and your dark lines dark.
If you use a ruler or a stick to check proportions, dip it in enchanted water the night before - enchant the water to give you clarity of vision.
Optional: Enchant your clothes to repel paint stains, charcoal dust, pastel sticks, etc. (Optional because unless you’re Yves Klein, most artists I am familiar with are careful not to get excessively dirty because of wasted materials.)
Keep your paints/color-tools in a container enchanted to maintain their vibrancy.
Draw a sigil on any face-mask you have so that it filters all hazardous fumes out, especially if you are using spray paint.
Enchant spray paint cans for less dripping, as well as fixative cans.
Enchant any and all materials and projects for durability, especially after welding, gluing, slipping, or firing a project.
Use chalk to draw a sigil on welding or plasma cutter surfaces for clean lines and careful motions.
Enchant any material used to bind objects together or secure objects with power and specific purpose (ex. glue to bind these two pieces of wood together, straps to bind these several pieces of plaster mold together).
Use magic to make a specific place where you rest your work (a table, a board, a section of floor) so that while you are away it is protected and safe.
Enchant all your small tools so that they are returned to you if lost. (Also sharpie your name all over those things. Do it.)
If you have access to YOUR OWN power tools, put a sigil for sharpness and durability on any saw blades. Do not do this if you are at a school using public equipment - you may not be allowed to draw on blades or remove them from the machines to draw on.
Siphon any frustration or anger as energy into hammers for extra force.
Invent a small chant to increase precision and say it before drilling, cutting, or altering anything.
Write sigils for protection, durability, and good color on paper and leave them in the kilns with your art work during firing. (For ceramics and hardening metal casting sand-resin molds. Wouldn’t advise it for glass kilns due to potential contamination by ash in small glass kilns.)
Enchant the hell out of your workspace for cleanliness, organization, and loss-prevention. Do this like everyday, I swear. I know sculptors. DO IT NOW.
Sharpness enchantments on every single blade in your work area.
Draw durability and precision sigils on any sewing equipment used.
Enchant water for color-vibrancy and attention and use it to anoint all fabric lengths (usually best while they are still rolled up or immediately after purchasing them).
Energize paper reams with color-vibrancy and attention rather than using water.
Cast spells on all inks for good consistency and ease of use.
Enchant ink-mixing area for cleanliness and lack of contamination.
Likewise, enchant cleaning supplies (mineral oils, etc) for extra power while cleaning.
Say a protective chant over your pieces while they are drying to prevent damage.
Sigil the back of your stamps (and the printmaking word for the ‘stamps’ you use, I forgot) for durability.
Visualize your paper/fabric as imbibed with energy of fire for faster drying times.
Enchant thread for strength, enchant needle for sharpness, enchant any backing for protection.
Cast spells all over your electronics for protection, battery life, memory space, anything you can think of.
If you use a tablet, clean it (carefully) and while doing that visualize your intent for the tablet to provide you with clean lines while drawing.
Draw a sigil on your workspace to remind you to save, frequently, often, and with more than one file name during a big project.
Enchant your external hard drives and USB sticks with loss prevention spells.
Draw a sigil for attention on the background of your digital file before starting a project, erase it for the sigil to activate or leave it hidden in the background for permanence.
Turn your digital signature into an enchantment for protection, attention, or theft-prevention.
Draw a sigil lightly on the reverse of any photographs printed for protection, attention, or theft prevention.
Hold camera lenses up to the sun for good lighting and angles and to the moon for clarity and cleanliness of your lens.
Ritualize cleaning of equipment to imbibe materials with specific attributes.
Enchant water pre-performance for strength, focus, and energy.
Draw sigils for attention on your body underneath your clothes (if you are the performer) or on the focus of your art.
Enchant digital or recorded files of your performance for protection (from loss due to accidental trashing) and for locating it later.
Sorry I don’t know much about performance, but call upon the spirits of Carol Schneeman and Joseph Beuys and I bet they’d help. (Schneeman’s still living but summon her anyways.)
Enchant your coffee, tea, or drink of choice for clarity during critiques and focus during those same critiques.
Put sigils on your clothes to decrease anxiety and stress, put sigils on your clothes to prevent damage to yourself or to your clothes.
Invent a chant to increase retention while studying for Art History.