because clearly this is his mantra

youtube.com
羽生結弦 Yuzuru Hanyu 2014 worlds ex
An extremely moving and powerful performance (with a little bit of a long explanation by me below!)

The Significance of Yuzuru Hanyu’s 2014 Worlds Exhibition

During the 2013-14 season, Yuzuru won the triple crown of GPF, Olympics, and World Championships- a pretty big deal.  For his exhibition skate at Worlds 2014, he performed Romeo and Juliet, his free skate from the 2011-2012 season.  He could have chosen any exhibition at all or even had a new one choreographed, but he chose this one.  Here’s what I make of this decision of his…

Case 1: The 2011 Japan Earthquake

As we all know, this program, Romeo and Juliet (ver. 1) was created in the time span shortly after the 2011 Japan Earthquake, a disaster which greatly impacted Yuzuru.  The 16-year-old Yuzuru was training when the earthquake hit Sendai, and had to run out of the rink with his skating boots still on, damaging them in the process.  Afterwards, he and his family stayed in an evacuation centre in a local school for some days.  Their home, along with many others’, had been completely destroyed.  The Sendai ice rink was damaged and closed down.  Many people lost their lives. Yuzuru was extremely conflicted during this time, as he felt that he couldn’t and shouldn’t continue to skate when the other people of Japan were suffering so greatly.  He wished to help in some way that felt more substantial than figure skating, which he thought to be rather selfish.  However, he was able to get back on his feet, and spent the summer following the earthquake skating in ice shows, as these ice shows were the best way for him to get practice time without a rink at home to train in.  Many of the proceeds for the ice shows went to earthquake relief, and Yuzuru’s (and other Japanese skaters’) amazing performances were events of hope and light in a dark time.  Romeo and Juliet (ver. 1) was the very program that he skated during this time.

Case 2: 2012 World Championships

Romeo and Juliet also holds heavy significance in that it was the free skate that earned Yuzuru a bronze medal at the 2012 World Championships.  This was his first ever Worlds title.  It was performance that moved the audience (and himself, and his coach at that time, Nanami Abe) to tears.  Just 17 years old at the time, he proved himself to be a captivating performer who gave the performance his all, and a brilliant jumper on top of that.  Bronze at 2012 Worlds was the title that earned him more fans, recognition, and prestige than ever before.  

The bronze medal came little over a year after the earthquake, so the disaster was prevalent in Yuzuru’s mind when he won it.  By not giving up on his skating and on his dreams, he was able to achieve great results.  He earned this rank through working hard and overcoming complicated and painful emotions he had about the earthquake, proving his mental, physical, and emotional strength to be of unimaginable calibre.  Of course, the scars that the earthquake left would never completely disappear, but Yuzuru had started to learn to overcome his fears, doubts, and pain.

Two Years Later… GPF, Olympic, and Worlds Champion

Now, flash forward two years from Worlds 2012 and that bronze medal, and Yuzuru Hanyu is a big name in figure skating.  He’s no longer the young 17-year-old beginning to capture the hearts of figure skating fans, but rather the reigning champion of the Grand Prix Final, the Olympics, and the World Championships.  The spotlight is his, the gold medal is his, and the times are his.

The importance of the Romeo and Juliet program had been further proved by Yuzuru’s choice for his free skate in the Olympic season of 2013-14.  For that season, he chose music from Romeo and Juliet once again, making a connection back to the eventful and evolutionary season of 2011-12.  By choosing the same theme for the Olympic season free skate as the 2011-12 one, Yuzuru was, in a way, giving a solute to all that had happened.  He wanted to show the world that, in his essence, he was still the same boy from Sendai, Japan, which had been hit with a terrible earthquake that people are still affected by to this day.  He wanted to make a tribute to his country, which supported him despite its troubles.  By making this connection to his past, he ensured that the crisis Japan was enduring would not be overlooked, and that he would always remain humble and thankful to what and who had made his Olympic dream possible.

That was the message he carried throughout the Olympic season, and then what does he choose to do for his Worlds exhibition, the last performance of the season?  What does he choose to close off this unforgettable season with?

His 2011-12 Romeo and Juliet free skate.  

I mean, what else could it possible have been?  This was one of the most vital and defining programs of his career.  This was the free skate that earned him third place at Worlds at the young age of 17.  This was the last free skate that he ever did with his long-time coach Nanami Abe; the last free skate he ever learned before saying goodbye to all he’d ever known to fly halfway across the world to train in Canada.  This was the free skate that captivated the hearts of viewers everywhere and made us all fall in love with the young, passionate talent that was Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan.

And perhaps most importantly, this was the program that was made when Yuzuru- and all of Japan- was going through an incredibly difficult time.  The earthquake understandably left Yuzuru reeling with shock, grief, and turmoil.  He said himself that after the earthquake, he seriously thought that he would never skate again.  

But he did.  A true champions knows that falling is inevitable, and it’s how many times you get back that makes you the real winner.  Yuzuru Hanyu got back up, time and time again, and just look where he ended up.

Triple crown winner (GPF, Olympics, and Worlds), one of the youngest Olympic champions in figure skating ever, and the first ever Japanese man to win Olympic gold in men’s singles figure skating.  

A man for the history books.  One of the all-time greats of figure skating.  A pride of his nation.  A priceless gift to the sport.  A privilege to watch, and a shining star to all those whose hearts he as touched.

Romeo and Juliet 1 was a program forged through pain, and ultimately made all the more a triumph because of it.   Yuzuru has said that he “wants to give the kind of performances that stay in people’s hearts”, and this definitely was one.  The performance of it at Worlds 2012 was breathtaking, certainly, full of emotion and passion enough to bring a stadium to its feet.  

But watching him doing it again two years later as the exhibition is all the more gratifying because you can clearly see just how much he had evolved and improved. His artistry, musicality, and technicality had greatly advanced- and all the while, he didn’t lose one single bit of that passion and charisma he held as a 17-year-old.  One of Yuzuru’s biggest goals is to never stop evolving, never stop trying to beat the records that he himself has set, and this exhibition was truly a testament to all of his hard work.

A True Champion Knows He Does Not Stand Alone

Yuzuru has also cited this mantra as one of his inspirations: “Don’t forget the beginner’s mind”.  Because of this belief, he is always working hard and striving to do better, and is well-known for always being down to earth, gracious, and grateful.  Using this program at the 2014 Worlds Exhibition was a culmination of all these traits we always see from him; it was a beautiful, powerful tribute to his roots.  

After achieving all the greatness of the 2013-14 season, Yuzuru didn’t forget what got him there.  If anything, his success humbled him.  It made him realize how far he had come and who he had to thank for guiding him to the spot in the middle of the podium where he stood.  As he won the GPF gold, the Olympic gold, and the World Championships gold, he did not stand alone on that podium- and he knew this better than anyone.  This exhibition was a performance dedicated to the people who have supported him since day one; to his family, coaches, fans, friends, and rivals; to everyone who had seen something in that 17-year-old bronze medalist in Nice that made them root for him; to his country, which recovered slowly and painfully from a crippling disaster yet still remained a place in which a young man could find his own path.

What a path is has been.  

A Name For the History Books

Yuzuru Hanyu is an inspiration, through and through, not only because of the spectacular 2013-14 season that he ended with this skate, but also because of everything ever since.  Many a lesser man would have called it quits after Olympic gold, thinking he’d already peaked- but Yuzuru believed he could do more, and he did.

The world records, the medals, the titles, the wonderful and unforgettable performances- Yuzuru Hanyu has done more than enough to establish himself as a key figure in the history of figure skating.  He is one who will be cited as a great inspiration for many generations to come; as one who pushed himself to push the sport.  He is not only a symbol of triumph and pride for his home country of Japan, but for the entire world, a shining beacon for the strength and skill of mankind as a whole.  He will eternally be known as one of the greatest figure skaters to have ever lived.  A success story to be told for years to come.  A legend.

Yuzuru Hanyu- don’t forget that name.  That’s a name for the history books.

And Now…

All this, and his story isn’t even over yet.  He said on many occasions that that winning Olympic gold was just the beginning- and we all know that when Yuzuru sets his mind to something, he is unstoppable.  We, the people who stand behind him to this day, have seen what he has accomplished since the Olympics, and know that he still has so much more to offer.  

We honour you for your hard work Yuzuru, from day one to now and into the future; we will continue to support you and give you the respect and strength you deserve.  And we eagerly await to see what all of us know you can and will deliver.  Ganbatte!!

In honour of Worlds 2017 coming up in about a month- which will be the 3 year anniversary of this exhibition and 5 year anniversary of the free skate it once was- here is Yuzuru Hanyu’s 2013-2014 World Championships Exhibition.  I hope you enjoy!

anonymous asked:

Larries acting like they arent pressed about the return of Elounor. So why so obsessed? Having to know every detail, nitpicking a 2 sec video- yeah so not pressed🙄

Larries: When I see or hear about Eleanor these days I feel nothing –

*Update all their websites designed specifically around hating Eleanor*

I mean it’s SO convenient she was seen right now because Babygate Is Ending again but –

*Rush to their emergency chat rooms and DMs to reconvene and regroup*

It’s like I can’t even feel anything anymore –

*Twenty empty posts with nothing but Eleanor hate tags posted one after the other in 5 minute bursts lasting over an hour*

I am SO numb to all this –

*Re-circulate Reasons Why It’s Actually Feminism To Obsessively Hate Eleanor in Public posts*

They could get married and I would just laugh –

*Sets up their webcam for their 40 minute daily Eleanor rant*

I just think it’s funny how she comes along again right now because it’s a day ending in Y and that’s like such a coincidence it’s like 1DHQ planned it to the minute–

*Elounor is fake posts circulating at the speed of light among teenage bedrooms*

And even though we’ve been on her tits every single day for weeks on end it’s funny how we ranted about her just like an hour and she shows up again, can you believe they stalk our blogs like this –

*Harass the people who saw her into deleting their comments and going private*

And btw not to distract everyone from how Eleanor isn’t ruining our lives but Briana is such a slut and Freddie is so clearly fake –

*Refuse to spell his name like he’s a demon who can’t be summoned, asterix out their mantra END IT because they’re afraid to voice their plea*

Yeah so I only wail into a moonless sky 5 times a day now when new Eleanor photos come up so it’s amazing how much this doesn’t even bother me.

anonymous asked:

scenario with tsukki, kuroo, iwai, yams and suga aNGST where they get into a really really heated fight with their s/o and she like storms out and then it starts to get later and later in the day and soon its really dark and v v late and no one can find her and the guys start like lowkey freaking out or just how they would handle the situation? :333 sorry f thats too many characters!

mmm yeah, 4 is my limit (although it’s a little ambiguous in the rules, so i’ll fix that) so i’m gonna drop someone. i currently have a lot of tsukishima requests, so i’ll break it up a little bit and drop him for this one. you can always send in another request for him later!

i accidentally made this college!au 


Kuroo

From: Kozume Kenma

To: Kuroo Tetsurou

Sent: 12:24 AM

Message: I’d never seen him before.

Shit.

When Kenma had first texted him about you that night, Kuroo assumed you had found your way to Kenma’s dorm. He’d find you there, safe and sound, with a game controller in your hands. It would be a tense few moments, but you would stand up and thank Kenma for letting you stay with him so late into the night. Kuroo would walk you back to your place, the first minute or so of the trip also tense. Eventually, one of you would pipe up and quietly work it out under the light of a streetlamp. Then, you would walk home hand-in-hand and give him a kiss goodnight. That’s how it had always been.

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anonymous asked:

HoHo I noticed you got an open request box there~~ if you don't mind, I would like to request RFA(and V+Saeran, if you really want to but you don't have to:) ) reacting to MC having a really protective brother/sister? And they are vEry protective like don't even think about being mean to MC because they will frick you up, but ofc they approve eventually

of course you can~ !

scene: you finally convince your partner to meet your sibling over dinner at their house

note: super very long post! I didn’t write for Saeran this time sorry!


Zen:

- he is a nervous wreck and he looks like he can faint anytime
- “what if he doesn’t like me? what if he doesn’t like what I do as a living? what if he-“
- and then the doorbell rings and he just freezes
- you had already set the table up so you move to get the door but he immediately stops you with his shaky hand
- you tell him for the millionth time that he’s going to be fine and just be natural
- when your brother comes in, he shot a glare at Zen as if already disliking him, but tbh it’s just the way he looks at people to say “I’m watching you”
- throughout the entire dinner Zen is just uncomfortable in his seat and he looks as if he can just act out a scene from a soap opera
- your brother starts shooting him so many questions but Zen does his best at answering them
- then your brother begins to ask really personal and private questions about your love life and you want to stop him but Zen replies in such a cool and confident manner
- your brother can definitely see that he loves you and will care for you
- and your brother already likes him despite threatening him if he ever dares to hurt you
- he also warns Zen not to get fame to his head and neglect MC and Zen promises to always have you as his no.1 priority
- from that day you can literally call the both of them best friends


Jumin:

- he had his personal chef create simple yet fancy dishes and serve expensive red wine
- he’s so calm and collected so you think he’s going to be just fine but internally he’s screaming and wishing that he would be a cat in his next life
- then your older brother arrives at the penthouse and you can immediately tell that he’s impressed
- your brother extends his hand for Jumin to shake but Jumin didn’t do anything until you nudge him
- “it’s just another business meeting. think of him as a client or a colleague” - Jumin keeps having this in his mind and repeating it like a mantra
- so over dinner you brother starts asking tons and tons of questions and Jumin is clearly uncomfortable despite maintaining a calm face
- finally when dinner is over, Jumin feels a little relaxed
- but then your brother wants to talk to Jumin privately, so you simply excuse yourself to the bedroom
- Jumin is literally shaking but he’s trying his best not to
- “just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you’re the best for my little sister”
- those words pierced through Jumin’s heart in an instant and instead of fear, anger is taking over
- immediately Jumin calmly explains why he loves you so much and emphasise that he will do anything just to see you smile
- he may not be the best at showing emotions right away, but he is the best at taking care of you
- and from Jumin’s impressive speech which came directly from his heart, your brother nods his head in approval and mentions wanting to meet another time
- you have never seen Jumin so happy and relieved at the same time as soon as your brother exits the penthouse door


Yoosung:

- your elder sister is arriving and Yoosung is already seated at the dining table quietly
- usually he’d be playing LOLLOL at this time but he can’t because of the all the nervousness
- when your sister finally arrives, he stands up to greet her rather awkwardly
- she simply stares at him and Yoosung doesn’t know what to do so he just directs her to the table
- the entire dinner is in silence because your sister wants to evaluate Yoosung but Yoosung is just panicking internally
- he tries to start up conversations by talking about himself
- but she starts picking at his flaws like “oh you’re just a university student how can you take care of MC”
- and he stands up suddenly saying that he cooks every time and cleans the house
- despite having a lot of school work, he dedicates time just for MC
- and your sister nods in approval but she’s still weary of how Yoosung can keep on going
- before she leaves she did warn Yoosung that she’ll be keeping a very close eye on him and Yoosung is totally fine with that because he is finally confident of himself and in your relationship


Jaehee:

- your older brother comes just on time and Jaehee answers the door
- before dinner even begins, he’s already talking to Jaehee and asking her tons of questions
- he’s impressed that she has a stable job but he’s very concerned about how she can manage herself to spend time with you
- his first impression of Jaehee is that she’s too serious all the time and he wonders if she’s ever a good match for you
- but her intelligent answers proved him wrong
- even so, he warns her that if she ever neglects MC, she’ll never get to meet MC again
- and then dinner starts, though awkwardly in the beginning, it progresses to become a fun night
- not to mention your brother and Jaehee get along extremely well talking about their love for coffee


Seven:

- your brother is so unimpressed with Seven
- is he a joke or something? why does the house smell like phD pepper and honey buddah chips???
- and the way Seven talks is just weird
- your brother doesn’t even know why you chose this man
- dinner is not happening until your brother gets to know Seven more
- Seven is way too nervous and answers all the questions as if it’s a joke
- but when your brother asks him serious questions, Seven becomes serious too and that’s the side your brother is looking for
- your brother warns Seven if he ever treats you and your relationship as a joke, Seven will get hell for it
- Seven swears he’ll do all he can to make sure you’re happy
- and then dinner starts and your brother is glad at least it’s a real dinner and not junk food
- before your brother leaves, he mentions to Seven that he will be dropping in from time to time to make sure MC is eating healthily
- and that’s the perfect excuse for you to store away all of his soda and chips


V:

- not to be mean but V’s blind??? so how will he ever take care of you?
- your brother is unsure that V’s fit for you so during dinner he inquires V
- V answers him in his usual cool and kind demeanour and your brother likes his personality
- but your brother is still skeptical of how V can take care of you properly so he wants to drop in from time to time
- V of course has no problem with it and agrees immediately
- dinner goes by smoothly and soon your brother leaves
- the moment he does, V is so relieved because he was super nervous, just that he didn’t show it
- you’re so proud of V and you’re sure your brother will like him even more once he sees more of V
- and even though your brother didn’t mention his love for photography to V, you told V that he’s actually a big fan of his works
- and V is so happy

I’ve Got a Seat In Heaven

Summary: Stuck in a town with overly religious bigots and homophobia, Dan and Phil realize the only way for their relationship to survive is to run away.
Word Count: 1,500 (exactly!!! i know!!!)
Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst.
A/N: This was supposed to come out 2 weeks ago but I procrastinated,,, very badly,,, leave prompts in my ask so I can come up with more ideas for fics. This one wasn’t as good as the last because I just lost motivation half way through. It’s loosely based off of my favorite song and its music video (Bethlehem- Declan Mckenna) so :-) hope u enjoy


Phil quickly rushed to get to church in time whilst leaving a note next to the bed his sleeping boyfriend inhabited. Dan looked so peaceful, curled up into a ball with his mouth open and letting out almost silent snores. His hair was curling from his night of sleep and it was the most adorable sight to Phil.

The gazing session was broken when Phil fully registered that he had somewhere to be. His family was very harsh and strict when it came to religion, thus forcing Phil to hide his relationship and sexuality in fear of being kicked out or disowned. It wasn’t even just his family; it was the whole town, full of people who believed in God rather than relationships that weren’t heterosexual.

Even though his writing was barely legible, Phil still left the note on Dan’s bedside and made his way to church. Phil could respect religion; if it wasn’t for how harsh everyone was he would even be a religious person himself. The town had ruined everything for Phil and he couldn’t wait to leave when he runs away with Dan.

When Phil had finally got to the town church (this area was so small, they only needed one for everyone) he could see his parents waiting outside. They had both given him this look that was almost disgusted, the only way he could describe it was disappointment. Phil had seen this look to many times in his life and he could only wonder what had caused it now.

“Where were you this morning?” His dad had asked with a venomous tone and a glare on his face. Phil rolled his eyes considering how little they really cared about him. They only cared about how early he was to arrive at the ‘house of God’.

“I had woke up early so I could check up on Dan, he was sick.” That was a lie. Phil left his house around 12 last night, considering how early his parents go to sleep, and slept at Dan’s house. They both spent the night in each other’s arms, whispering secrets they had never told anyone. This was also the time they spent to plan their getaway.

“You know we don’t like that Daniel kid.” His mother said, breaking his train of thought.

“He’s harmless.” Phil had tried to reassure his parent many times that just because Dan’s parents didn’t force him into religion like the other people of this town, doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. They still had yet to believe him.

“Let’s just get inside.”

The sermon was boring, as per usual. Everyone went on and on about what was bad and who deserved to rot in hell rather than the actually good teachings of the Bible. Phil was absolutely tired of hearing how he needed to ‘ask for forgiveness’ just because he loves a man. If he had the time, he would go on about how some people sin without even knowing it.

People who ran the church obviously hadn’t read too much into the actual religion. The pastor was and old balding man who was clearly overweight and forces his opinions on other people, no matter how rude and inconsiderate.  It was usually a mantra of “god hates fags” and “if you don’t adhere to all of these rules you will go to hell”.

When Phil got home the first thing he did was to grab and bag and shove some clothes and other necessities in it. He obviously had to pack enough to last a life away from this disgusting life he lived and run away with Dan.

Dan and Phil had met back when Dan had first moved here and started his first year of high school. He looked so adorable and shy; Phil found it to be the most endearing thing despite him being a year older than him. Phil had helped Dan around the school and talked to him, basically they developed a friendship rather quickly.

This friendship had taken a turn towards a relationship when Phil confessed how he hated church because of him being gay. Dan had expressed how he felt the same and it was just a lot of hiding and secret meetings from that moment.  Phil’s favorite moments they had together were the ones they spent in the middle of the night debating about the universe and all of its mysteries. They talked about the future, a life they wanted together, and that’s all they needed.

The only time they both showed interest towards running away was when Dan had made a joke about ditching this town and Phil had inevitably agreed, which gave both of them many ideas. This gave them list of ways and options to choose from making them even antsier.  

They decided to do it on a Sunday. After all, everyone would be too focused with church to notice the two missing boys. Dan and Phil had decided who would bring what, money and food, clothes and memories. There weren’t many memories considering Dan had only lived here for a short amount of time and Phil hated everyone here.

When Phil had finished packing his clothes and other things he would need to run away, he had grabbed the chest his family used for his ‘college fund’. Phil knew they were going to waste it anyway considering his family never thought he would go to college like everyone else in this town. The chest had a decent amount of money that would last them a while and that’s all they needed. A while.

His packing was cut off by his mom opening the door and realizing what was going on. A glare had spread across her face as she called for Phil’s dad. This was a signal to start hurrying and finish packing so he wouldn’t have to face both of his parents screaming curses at him.

When he packed the last of his things into his duffle bag Phil heard his mom run out to get his father t arrive more quickly. The stomping from downstairs had meant that he had only a few moments until both of his parents would try and stop him. How was he supposed to get out without passing his parents?

The window.

It was worth it considering climbing down from a tree is better than spending the rest of his life with distaste and sadness.  Phil had thrown his duffle bag out the window and jumped to the branch closest to his window and tried to climb down as quickly as possible. Luckily this attempt was successful which meant Phil was able to run from his house to Dan’s as fast as he could.

Dan was in his yard waiting for Phil, keys in hand and stuff already packed. They both had waited years for this and they had finally. After years of planning and waiting they both finally get to escape this hell of a town.  Dam was still looking up and down the street for Phil and when he did see him, a sprint would be an understatement.

Phil had to drop himself to catch Dan in his arms, as he jumped into his embrace and wrapped his arms and legs. Dan was mumbling things into Phil’s neck as he had what could only be described as a death grip on Phil.

“Dan, I love you, but you’re going to have to speak up.” Phil had said trying to pull himself from Dan’s body.

“Y-you’re late,” Dan whispered while eventually letting go of Phil. “I thought you w-weren’t going to show up and I got –“

The nervous boy was cut off by Phil pressing his lips against his. Dan was smiling in the kiss as he almost forgot everything that was happening and just focused on what was happening. Out of the both of them, when it came to kissing, Phil was always the expert. He had tried to teach Dan new tricks every now and then, but he was always more skilled and it really showed.

When they broke away Dan had grinned shyly, blushing so intensely by one kiss. Dan then grabbed Phil’s hand and led him to the car, they were both ready to begin their journey into the new life. Phil was driving because they both knew Dan got tired when traveling long distances, which could damper on the time it takes them to arrive to wherever.

“Are you ready?” Phil looked over as he saw Dan gripping the arm rest with an iron hold. “Remember, you can always back out?”

“Why would I? We’ve both hated this town and how all the people here treat us for the longest time. I don’t want to stay here for one more minute.” Dan said while looking deeply into Phil’s eyes.

“Let’s go.”

The journey was filled with coffee, road games, songs from videogame soundtracks, and so many moments where they realized they made the best choice.

And it was perfect.

Thoughts on “Rogue One”

If I could sum up why I loved RO in one sentence it would be simply that this movie reminded me why I fell in love Star Wars in the first place. I’m gonna put spoilers below the cut and try not to gush tooo much. I’m also going to try not to make too many comparisons between RO and TFA, because I know many people have strong feelings about TFA and how it fits into SW canon, a canon I’m admittedly not the best versed in. But there are some things that personally, for me, made RO a more compelling, complex and honest story. Anyway, here we go:

1) I was a goner just from the opening. Two people making an unimaginable sacrifice so their child can live - the shots of little Jyn running into the canyon, her little determined face, I was crying 5 minutes. Chalk it up to seasonal affect but this time of year I ALWAYS get emotional about how much we hitch our hope for salvation onto our children.

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anonymous asked:

Cafune, any SPN pairing? Thanks :)

Cafuné (Brazillian Portuguese): the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.

Oh damn, get ready for a long one. But thank you so much! Hope you like :)


The first time Sam truly took note of it, he was probably six years old.

It was the night after, as he knows now, the Shtriga came for him. All he had known was that one moment he was sleeping soundly, and the next he had been startled awake, John clutching his tiny form close to his chest and yelling something at Dean that his drowsy mind couldn’t comprehend. He spent the next few minutes cradled close to John’s chest, his father murmuring soothing words into his hair, and it wasn’t long before Sam began nodding off again.

He could feel the tightness of John’s embrace lessen around his form, and he could feel John lowering him back down onto the bed, and the motel bed’s warm blanket being lifted up to cover him.

And then, for the first time, he felt it.

Fingers stroking through his hair, rubbing comfortingly against his scalp.

It happened over and over again throughout the years, and it usually occurred when Sam was under more distress than usual. Every single time without fail, he felt that much needed contact, those fingers running through his hair, whenever a hunt went wrong, whenever he was badly hurt, or whenever he jolted awake from a terrifying nightmare.

Sam didn’t think much of it at first; he just chalked it off to it either being John or Dean trying to calm him down, comforting him in their own discreet way without appearing openly affectionate (in the case of John) or overly affectionate (in the case of Dean).

But then came the night he left for Stanford. The night he and his father had that huge and horrible fight, trading nasty words and low blows. The night Sam desperately fought to be separated from this life, the hunting life he never wanted to begin with but was born into. The night that ended with John screaming at his son, “You walk out that door, don’t you ever come back!”

Sam didn’t sleep at all during the trip to Stanford University. He kept himself moving from the moment he passed through the threshold to the moment he collapsed on his dormitory bed, freshly registered and signed in and enrolled. Heart heavy, stubborn unfallen tears clinging to his lashes, Sam closed his eyes.

It happened right on the cusp of sleep, right when it was within his grasp.

Those wonderful fingers stroking through his hair.

Sam gasped, flinching himself back into full awareness, and instantly the touch was gone.

That, more than his father screaming those final words at him, more than Dean’s tearful and betrayed stare, more than the longing for a home and a mother that he practically never had, more than anything, was enough for Sam to press the heels of his hands deeply into his eyes and finally break down.

He could feel an echo of the touch come back, and leaned into it in whatever way he could.

::

It continued to happen, but much more frequently than before, now that Sam had become aware of the fact that it wasn’t his brother or father or even a visible being doing this. Sam kept it to himself, never once mentioning it to Dean; this was private, something all his own, and he didn’t want to run the risk of Dean even attempting to convince him to find the source and get rid of it.

After Jess burned on the ceiling, after John died, after Dean sold his soul, the fingers were there, running through his hair slowly and soothingly. Every single time Sam needed it, desired the contact he had grown to love, they were there.

Then came the Mystery Spot, where Sam was forced to watch Dean die over and over and over again on a Tuesday with a different, much more creative death each time. The fingers were more persistent, as if massaging Sam’s mind to alleviate the waves of pain he experienced after seeing his brother die so many times. And then that godawful Wednesday happened and… The fingers running through his hair were the only reason Sam didn’t just lay down and try to end it all.

Finding out he was Lucifer’s vessel from the angels was damaging, and meeting Lucifer for the first time and being told so was destructive. He could practically feel his heart and soul shredding to bits, bleeding and worthless, because that’s all he was right? The Boy King, the man with the demon blood, the abomination, and now Lucifer’s vessel.

That night was the first time he felt an entire hand cupping against his forehead, brushing back the fringe, fingers rubbing at his scalp.

::

When they met Gabriel for the first time, uncovering the archangel behind the Trickster, Sam didn’t think anything else of it. Gabriel made his intentions with the Apocalypse perfectly clear, and Sam could understand to a point where he was coming from. But he was still the Trickster that repeatedly killed Dean to prove a point, the archangel that refused to help, and Sam couldn’t help but feel bitter and disdain towards him.

Until Elysian Fields.

“Guys… Get her out of here.”

Sam emerged from where he and Dean were crouched behind one of the tables to avoid the firefight, and slowly crept behind Gabriel with Dean to lead Kali out of the lobby. He kept his eyes on Gabriel, and for the first time since discovering who he was, Sam felt something new toward the ex-Trickster.

Fear.

Despite the fact that Gabriel was an archangel, armed with a blade that could kill Lucifer, he just looked so small. Sam feared for him, feared for his safety and survival as he squared off against Lucifer, and Sam paused.

Right at that moment, Gabriel turned around and met his stare.

And Sam gasped, tears biting at the back of his eyes and heart throbbing ferociously in his chest. Because at that moment, Gabriel smiled…

And the sensation of fingers swept through Sam’s hair in one single stroke.

“Sam,” Dean snapped lowly. “Sam, c’mon, what are you waiting for?”

Conflicted, confused, distraught, Sam couldn’t do think to do anything else except follow his brother from the room, holding onto Gabriel’s stare until he couldn’t anymore, and they left Gabriel to face his brother.

Sam’s mind was racing a million miles per minute as they climbed into the Impala, Dean peeling out of the lot as fast as he could, and driving fast until Elysian Fields Hotel was no longer visible in the rearview mirror.

It was Gabriel. It had been Gabriel all along.

That mantra was the only thing that clearly registered in Sam’s brain, and he clung on to it, because everything else didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense. So he repeated that sure phrase, that notion of certainty. It was Gabriel. This whole time, it was Gabriel.

After Kali released them from the blood spell and fled the scene, Dean checked them into the crummiest motel room he could find for one night. Sam followed him inside on autopilot, hauling his duffle, still trying to make sense of this entire night, of all the events leading up to this revelation.

It was Gabriel.

“It’s no free chocolates on pillows, but…” Dean shrugged, dumping his bag on the stained floor near his bed.

Sam just shook his head, waving off any belief Dean may have that he would complain. Dean shrugged again, and flopped face-first onto the squeaky mattress, appearing to have fallen asleep the moment his body met the bed. Sam took the time to change out of his clothes, undressing down to his boxers and slipping on a simple white tee.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. He forced the mantra out of his head of the time being; this had been a long night, and there would be time for answers tomorrow. So Sam slid under the covers of his bed, laid his head on the pillow, and closed his eyes.

Moments later, his eyes flew open.

The fingers were gone. The fingers were gone.

But then that meant Gabriel…

And his fingers—

So Gabriel was—

Sam slapped a hand over his mouth, barely stopping the bewildered wail from punching past his lips.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

Sam wept silently, shaking, his heart pulsing grief and sorrow, body numb with longing for the fingers that had comforted him in moments like this, and for the archangel connected to them.

::

Years passed.

It took him a long time, but Sam learned to sleep without the aid of the fingers – Gabriel’s fingers – stroking through his hair. He longed for them, yearned for them, but he learned.

The almost-Apocalypse happened, his time in Hell came and went, the Leviathans were defeated, the trials were incomplete, the angels fell… All of this happened in Gabriel’s absence. And Sam did his part; he hunted, he protected, he fought, and he loved.

He was tired.

Sam sighed deeply, lowering himself onto his bed in the Bunker. His muscles ached, his mind was exhausted, and he just wanted to sink into his mattress and sleep. Slipping under his covers, Sam cradled the pillow close to him, shifting every so often to get into a more comfortable position. Moments later, he felt his heart rate decrease, his breathing start to even out, and the promise of unconsciousness creeping into his mind. He was almost asleep…

Fingers ran through his hair.

Instantly, Sam wrenched his eyes open, heart going into overdrive, and he gasped.

Gabriel’s lips quirked up into a tiny smirk. “Hi.”

He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. Oh, this was so not funny. He had to be dreaming. This had to be a fucking joke his brain was playing on him.

“You’re not dreaming, Sam. And this isn’t a joke. I’m here.”

Sam sat up slowly, wide eyes still trained on the expectant archangel sitting on his bed. Chest heaving with pants, Sam’s hand twitched before he reached out, hesitantly inquiring if it was okay.

Gabriel merely raised a brow.

So Sam laid his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, his warm shoulder, and gripped it tight as a large huff of air escaped him. “Gabriel?” he breathed.

“Hey, Sammy. Miss me?”

Sam paused.

And promptly shoved Gabriel off the bed.

“Oomph!” Gabriel grunted, landing on his back with an elongated groan. Sam lifted himself onto his knees, his wide eyes narrowing into a fierce glare, watching as the angel picked himself off the ground and turned scandalized eyes toward him. “The hell? That’s how you greet an old friend?”

“Where were you?”

Gabriel frowned. “What?”

“Where were you?” Sam repeated with a growl. “You’re clearly here and not dead, which means Lucifer didn’t kill you. Which means you’ve been alive this whole time, and you didn’t even let us know. So much shit has happened, Gabriel, shit we really needed help with, that I really needed help with, and it’s been nearly five years! So where were you?!”

Gabriel lifted his hands in a calming manner, dropping his previous scowl as he met Sam’s burning gaze with a stoic one. “Sam… I was dead. Lucifer did kill me.”

Instantly, the fury stirring inside Sam evaporated at this revelation, leaving him empty and breathless. “Then… how—?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said, and Sam pinched his brows together, because it sure sounded like Gabriel was telling the truth. “Sam, I promise. One moment, there was nothing. I was just… nowhere. And then, I was back, and I have no idea why or how. Okay?”

Sam took in a few deep breaths, keeping his eyes focused on Gabriel. “… Okay. Okay.”

Gabriel nodded. “Okay.”

There was a still silence for a long moment, only broken by Sam’s ragged breathing. They stared at one another, unblinking, and Sam saw Gabriel’s firm demeanor change quite suddenly. The archangel actually looked concerned.

“Sam?” Gabriel whispered, stepping forward. Sam flinched back despite the clear distance between them, and though Gabriel frowned lightly, he didn’t stop in his approach. “Sam – Sam, are you okay?”

And Sam just couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“It was you,” Sam muttered, observing Gabriel’s expression. Confusion was first, followed by recognition, then mournful understanding. Sam continued on, not giving Gabriel a chance to speak. “This whole time… It was you. You were the one that would comfort me, ever since I was little. You did that when I needed it. You provided me with security when my dad and Dean weren’t there. It was you.”

“Sam…”

“But what I don’t understand,” Sam said, feeling his throat tighten, and hearing his words come out more thick than before. He was losing the battle to his emotions, and fast. “What I don’t understand is if it was you, why you went and pulled that shit at Mystery Spot anyway.”

Gabriel’s face fell. “Sam—“

“And then you comforted me afterward,” Sam keened, feeling a tear slip down his cheek involuntarily. “I just… I don’t fucking get you! You traumatized me, Gabriel. All I wanted was my brother back, and your hand in my hair. But it was you! You tortured me!”

“Sam, listen to me, I’m so sorry—“

“How could you do that?” Sam’s voice dropped dramatically to a whisper, the tears falling down his face undeterred. Small cracks were forming in his words, paving the way for a bigger explosion, and Sam just didn’t feel like stopping it from happening. “You just… And then you… How could you do that?”

Gabriel was on the bed now, right in front of him, his golden eyes sparkling with sorrow and unspoken apologies as he stared at the broken man before him. Gabriel reached out, quickly pulling Sam into an embrace before Sam had a chance to fight it. Once his chest collided with Gabriel’s, arms wrapped securely around a quivering back, the battle was lost; Sam pressed his face into Gabriel’s neck, sobbing out age-long lamentations, body trembling from five years’ worth of unresolved fears and distress because Gabriel had been gone, and he could finally just let go. His hands clung onto the back of Gabriel’s jacket, fingernails digging in and arms squeezing Gabriel past the point of pain had Gabriel been human.

But the archangel just held him back, lips to Sam’s ear, murmuring one phrase over and over like a sacred prayer.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Past his tears, past his horrid agony and relief toward the entity in his arms, past the truth vibrating in his ear, Sam sobbed even louder at the feel of Gabriel’s fingers, warm and real and there, running through his hair. Providing safety, offering security, and giving comfort. Like they had always done before, and hopefully how they’ll always be in the future.

For the first time in years, nestled in Gabriel’s arms, his hand cradled in Sam’s hair where it belonged, Sam sank into an easy sleep.


Send me a word & pairing?

anonymous asked:

ALL THE FIC with the team in stark tower walking bucky through his manpain and ptsd WITH LOTS OF FEELINGS

Bruce

Bucky is crouched on the floor in front of Bruce when he opens his eyes. He breathed out slowly–the last perfect breath of the meditation–and focused on Bucky’s face.

“What does it feel like?” Bucky asked, intense and blank at the same time.

Bruce shrugged. “It doesn’t,” he said truthfully.

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling the muscles bend. He waited.

Bucky kept watching Bruce for a long time. His gaze fixed most often on Bruce’s eyes, but they flickered quickly back and forth from there to the rest of him: the bended legs tucked under him, the loose limbs, the careful in-and-out of breath.

“Would I be able to–?” Bucky asked. The question ended in the absence of a verb, a word Bucky couldn’t put into shape yet.

Bruce knew something about the word he was looking for. It was a big word.

“I can show you,” he offered.

Bucky sat and listened while Bruce explained about breath patterns, mantras, brain wave patterns, and conscious muscle control.

Bucky never meditates where Bruce can see him. Whether Bucky did or did not was not the point, though.

Clint

Clint landed in the hospital after a mission. Five hours of surgery, six of sleeping and Natasha sitting in silence next to the beep of his heart monitor.

She waited and Bucky had so few ties to anyone that he waited down the hall in the designated space for waiting, under the sign that redundantly told him he was waiting and it was a waiting room. She waited and Bucky waited (sometimes bringing her a coffee) and apparently it was for the moment when Clint groggily opened his swollen eyes and she got to say, “you’re an asshole” and then, “sixty four” just before she slammed the door behind her.

Bucky didn’t understand. He looked at Clint.

“Sixty-four people,” said Clint. He waved his uninjured hand vaguely upwards. “Saved sixty-four.” He paused to cough, wet and weak. “She counts how many I save when I can’t.”

“Do you do the same for her?” asked Bucky.

“I always count,” said Clint. “Gotta.” He coughed again and Bucky–who felt a twinge of something he couldn’t quite fit into a conscious thought–fixed the pillows behind him, thinking about the cough.

“Fifty-two,” continued Clint. Bucky frowned so Clint, already beginning to fall back asleep, clarified. “That’s your number,” he said. “I always count.”

He was asleep again. Bucky pulled up the thin blanket–again, a twinge of something, a thought about coughing and wanting thicker blankets–to keep him warm.

Outside, Natasha was waiting.

“He counts how many lives we save,” she explained. “Each of us.” She glared at Bucky, daring him to–to do something wrong, but what exactly he couldn’t say. “He doesn’t know about the bus and the subway, though. He was already down. Your number was seventy-three.”

She walked away before he could draw the breath to respond.

Steve

Bucky silently opened Steve’s door and walked with perfect, absolute quiet over to the bed. The dream had so clearly left him with an image of blood and blonde hair and wide, trusting blue eyes. He had had to check to see even though he knew better than to trust his dreams.

Steve breathed in and out, quiet and healthy.

Something inside–the thing that didn’t speak in words inside him and had never needed memories or Bucky to be able to claim sovereignty over his own head–told him clearly that a quiet, healthy breath was all Bucky ever wanted. It told him to lie down content tonight because it would not be the night Steve died.

All he needed was for Steve to keep breathing, quiet and healthy.

That sounded like the mantra Bruce had talked about: maybe that could be Bucky’s.

Maybe it always had been.

tvtaughtmehow  asked:

Hi! So in TEH, the part when John comes to visit Sherlock after almost being torched, Sherlock remarks that John ended up shaving his mustache and says he's glad. John then asks "what, you didn't like it?" which i always thought was weird because John KNOWS he didn't, Sherlock said as much before, yet he still asks. It all looks kinda...flirtatious lol idk what other word to use. And then Sherlock responding with "I prefer my doctors clean shaven" doesn't help! What do you think of that moment?

WAIT. What a great point!! I’ve always been so distracted by the “clean shaven” line that this never even occurred to me. Sherlock goads John incessantly about the mustache at the beginning of TEH. Like, way more than once. So why the hell did John say that here?

I guess he’s just sticking to his “I don’t shave for Sherlock Holmes” mantra and pretending he didn’t realize/forgot Sherlock hated it. Like oh, hey, I decided completely out of nowhere to shave, why, you didn’t like it? well, that clearly had no bearing on my actions because I wasn’t even aware you felt that way.

John, sweetie, you’re so transparent.

SANJA's TWD CONFESSION #9

It’s funny how certain people swear up and down that Norman Reedus is in charge of Daryl Dixon’s characters development and has significant impact on how his story arc flows BUT the minute a statement OR say “interview answer” doesn’t match up with their agenda OR happens to praise a character they argue against constantly, the same individuals cry “set-up” OR imply that Norman was cornered AND basically “spoon-fed” that particular answer due to pressure and journalistic bias.


You can’t have it both ways - Reedus is either “in control” of his career and what he says OR he isn’t!


He can’t be the “golden man-child of perfection” only when he agrees with you AND then the cornered “victim” of peer pressure and award buzz when he doesn’t.


When Norman Reedus talks about how much he loves and respects Melissa McBride AND states very clearly that Daryl’s “character changed a lot” when he was put “together” with Carol AND that the change was indeed “because of her”, suddenly the Chandra camp “cries foul” and complains about journalistic bias and press mishandling.

This is not an isolated incident either!

The Reedus gospel and his prophetic vision somehow gets clouded whenever he dares to utter Carol’s name in a positive light because let’s face it a blog that practically campaigned for the assassination of Carol’s character can’t very well reblog statements that contradict that mantra without laying blame somewhere OR explaining the Carolution away.


I wonder what it is about Carol praise that turns him into an complacent newbie who doesn’t know how to steer through an interview without succumbing to baiting, bias and misinterpretation!

Seeing how we are talking about Norman Reedus super-fans it puzzles me why they think that he can handle himself like a veteran through everything else BUT “I love Carol” implications!?!

I smell insecurity-fueled bullshit!

*At the end of the day what needs to be understood is that no matter how much you hate Carol, no matter how much you try to prove that she is “unworthy of the golden boy” and no matter how much Carol intimidates your ship or your own fantasies, the fact remains that both Norman Reedus and Daryl Dixon love and care for both Melissa McBride and Carol Peletier.

And yes - she is his favourite!

*See original article here with actual Norman spoken words!

anonymous asked:

Hey theorem could you do a one shot prompt using this sentence: "Why the hell is the dog THERE OF ALL PLACES??"

Hey!! Thanks for sending in a prompt! You didn’t specify a ship, so I did Jikook because I wanted to practice dynamics and I just thought that Jeongguk spoiling a puppy was hilarious. I hope you enjoy~

-

“I’m beginning to think you love Bwibwi more than you love me,” Jimin plainly states, staring at the toy poodle.

Jeongguk looks over from where he’s doing push-ups, stopping shortly to send Jimin an amused smirk. “Why do you say that? She’s a puppy.”

He tries not to think about how Jeongguk says ‘puppy’ with more reverence than he’d ever moaned ‘Jimin’. Tries not to think of how much he’s clearly over-exaggerating. “Just,” Jimin waves towards Bwibwi, “Why is she there of all places?”

He may be able to cover up any hint of grousing in his voice, but his face is another story. His eyes have always been an open book. Which they are right now. Grimacing as he looks at Bwibwi, fluffy and clean and positively purring with contentment (if dogs could purr, Bwibwi would be purring. Smugly). She’s lying on a doggy bed that Jimin suspects had been worth, like, 1 000 000 000 won, (even if Jeongguk continuously claims he got it at a lame pet shop for a 35th fraction of that), plushies surrounding her soft white fur, feetsies sticking out of the princess-pink blanket covering her to keep her warm.

Dogs don’t even get cold, Jimin thinks starchily. Him and Bwibwi hold an intense staring contest until she yawns and yeah, okay, Jimin might be unreasonably jealous and tired but he’s not made of ice and stone. A small aw omg how cute falls from his lips.

Then Jeongguk’s flopping down next to him on the sofa, laughing as Jimin shifts away from his sweaty pits. “You like her. I know you do,” he says, matter-of-fact, “If you didn’t like her, you wouldn’t cuddle her to sleep.”

“When have I ever-”

“I was so lonesome that night. Did you know that?” Jeongguk continues, staring off into the corner of the room as if recounting a horrid memory. “It was cold. Lonely. I was alone. You stole my dog. My dog stole my boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” Jimin whines, “As if you don’t ignore me for hours just to play with her!”

The look he receives speaks volumes. “Are you seriously jealous.”

It’s not a question. It makes Jimin squirm. He glances at Bwibwi, looking for help, saying come jump on him or something like that you unhelpful cutie with his eyes, but gets nowhere with that. He is not a dog whisperer.

“No,” Jimin says after too-long a silence.

“Oh my god,” Jeongguk says in reply. “Oh my god. Are you serious?”

“I said no!” He quickly turns to look in the other direction. “Why would I be jealous of a poodle? I’m not a kid!”

Jeongguk snorts. “You look like one.”

Jimin, offended beyond belief, turns to send his boyfriend a glare. “How could you say that? You fuck me-”

“I’m just saying you’re short,” he shrugs. “Can’t blame me since you’re the one acting like a kid.”

“I’m leaving,” Jimin says, and stands, prepared to get out after being accused of something utterly ridiculous- by his one true love, of all people-

Only to have arms winding around his waist, lifting him into the air. “No, you’re not,” Jeongguk whispers into his ear, somehow managing to be heard clearly above Jimin’s protests (that keep getting weaker and weaker by the second), carrying him into and down the hallway.

His arms are really muscle, says Jimin’s brain ever so eloquently. The stupor he’s in doesn’t break until Jeongguk drops him off onto his king-sized bed, a mantra in his mind chanting arms! Arms! Arms! Arms! Holy shit, thighs.

The door clicks shut.

“Will you stop complaining if I-”

Yes.”