i wish i could translate but the writing is so sloppy


Prompt: part 4 of Brawl in the Streets, the reader is super wasted with the Hamilsquad and unlocks their origin story.

Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad X Reader

TW: cursing, drunk, alcohol, crying, mention of sex, second hand embarrassment(???), reference to masturbation, really funny origin story???

A/N: here’s PART 4: BRAWL IN THE STREETS!!! I hope y'all enjoy! I was excited to write this! Thank you for all of your love and support! I love y'all! If you want me to tag something, let me know! I want you to feel safe when reading my work! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1875

“Hey, hey, guys, hey…” you called out from the couch, where you were facedown. “I’ve got a knock knock joke.”
The boys were quiet, waiting for you to say it. “Go ahead,” Alex finally instructed.
“Okay, okay…” you paused, thinking. “Wait, why are they called knock knock jokes? Do people even knock anymore? Why is it not ding dong jokes? Have we not evolved?”
“Oh my gosh, just tell the joke!” Herc groaned, and you laughed into the couch cushion.
“Okay, knock knock,” you started giggling into the couch at the joke you were about to tell. A chorus of who’s there’s rang out. “H-How many wiener dogs does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”
“I don’t get it-” Laf began to complain in a really harsh French accent.
“None! They can’t reach that high!” You began laughing hysterically. So hard, in fact, that you were moderately concerned you’d piss your pants.
“That wasn’t a knock knock joke!” John complained, and you rolled your eyes before you turned over and sat up. They had turned out the lights, and the tv was playing behind you. The bright light had gotten more annoying the drunker you’d gotten.
“I’m bored,” you complained, and John chuckled. He was sitting on the couch with you, just a drunk as you were.
“We could change that, y'know,” he drawled in a suggestive voice, and you blushed.
He crawled toward you on the couch, and you squeaked before you fell off the couch. You landed on the floor and started laughing, the boys joining you.
“Do we have any more beer?” You asked from the floor, thirsty.
“We are not giving you any more alcohol!” Herc said, “You’re so wasted!”
“Am not!” You argued, and you tried to get up off the floor, but you wavered and fell on top of John on the couch.
“If you wanted me that bad, you coulda just said so, Princess,” he purred to you, and you giggled.
“You wish,” you teased before you snuggled into his shirt. “You smell good.”
He laughed this time and put his arms around you, holding you on his chest, “Only for you, darlin’.”
“Let’s play truth or dare!” Alex suddenly called out.
Lafayette quickly shot the idea down, “Non! Alexander, last time we played, you dared me to suck ‘Erc’s-”
“And you did-”
“Well, I didn’t want to lose!” They squabbled, and you laughed, but you were also confused.
“Wait,” you said, and they both looked to you, “I thought you two were together… but you,” you pointed to Laf, “sucked Herc’s… peep…?”
“Yeah?” Alex questioned, and you pulled your chin back into your neck in confusion.
“So, I don’t get it…?” Alex looked over at Herc, who looked to John, who looked at you, and they all started laughing.
“You’re so cute,” John cackled, his chest vibrating beneath you with each peel of laughter.
“I know… but that doesn’t answer my question!” You looked up at him from your cozy spot, and he was looking down at you, making little crinkles in his chin where you could see a shadow of stubble growing in.
“Sweetheart…” Herc trailed off, and Lafayette took over.
“We’re polyamorous,” he explained. That’s when it all made sense. Everything clicked together.
“Ohhhh, I get it!” You smiled to yourself and nuzzled further into John, who gripped you tighter. You pulled your legs up closer to your body, straddling him effectively, but still hella comf. “So how long have y'all been together?”
John began to run his fingers through your hair, “Hmm, I’d say romantically, about three years? It started out with just me and Alex… We’d all been friends for years before, but I really really liked Alexander-”
“Aww, babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing!” Alex exclaimed from the other sofa, obviously referencing Parks and Rec.
“Shut up, Alex!” John threw a pillow at him. “Anyways, so we hooked up. Then, a few months later, Alex explained to me that he loved me, but he also had feelings for our favorite Frenchman, Laf, and at first, i was like, whaaaaat? Then, I realized that I had a lot of pent up gay in me and that I really liked him too, but we didn’t know how he felt about us… For some reason, we actually thought he was straight…?”
“It’s funny because I’m actually the gayest!” Laf happily exclaimed from his spot between Alex and Herc.
You laughed, and Herc wrapped his arms around him. He gave Laf a kiss on the cheek. “We know.”
“But, one night, before we knew how aggressive Alex was with truth or dare, we played it, and Alex dared Laf and I to make out, and that went about how you’d expect…” John trailed off and his hand twitched in your hair like he was back in that moment.
“That’s when they realized I’m ultra gay!” Laf slurred, his thick French accent almost making it unintelligible.
“You’re like a straight boi, but instead of saying no homo though, you gotta cut in and add no hetero to the end of like every sentence,” Herc chuckled as he fiddled with Laf’s fingers.
“C'est la vie, 'Erc. Let me live,” Laf complained, and Herc laughed again.
“It’s cute,” he reassured his boyfriend. Laf cooed and turned to share a sweet kiss with Herc. You almost wept. It was just so damn cute.
“It was shortly after that when I composed a letter, conversing with John at the same time, declaring how profusely I loved Laf, and how John and I wanted to have a relationship. I poured my heart into that letter… it was my everything. Heart and soul. I felt like the minute he’d open it, the skies would part, and the angels would start singing… God is there. He’s weeping-”
“'Is 'andwriting was messy, and I could barely speak English! 'Ow was I supposed to read the sloppy, pretentious, wordy ramblings of a sleepless man?” Laf protested from the spot on the couch.
“It was beautifully crafted!” Alex protested, and Laf pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
“I know, mon amour, that’s why I 'ad 'Erc read it to me.” He smirked, an inch from Alex’s face, and Alex closed the gap this time.
“So Laf hands me this leader with no explanation and is just like 'read it!’” Herc mocked in a terrible French accent, and Laf scowled at him, “And I read the letter, spoiler alert, Alex and John are super gay, but I didn’t get all the way through. I was under the misconception it was for me, so of course I rushed to Alex’s apartment, only to find he wasn’t there; he was having dinner at the Washingtons’ with John-”
“Wait,” you interrupted, “didn’t the letter address who it was to?”
Herc scoffed, “It said 'to our dear friend.’”
“I’m sorry, but Marie‑Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette is a lot to write for a header!” Alex shot back.
“That’s not the point!” Herc huffed, “The point is, I busted into the middle of the dinner, professing my love for them in return like a bad rom com, telling them, and the Washingtons, how gay I was for them, and those assholes just cackled!”
“It was cute!” John laughed as he recalled the memory, earning a scowl from Herc.
“It was mortifying!” Herc replied, covering his face with a hand.
“At this point, I 'ad used Google Translate to interpret this letter since 'Erc just rushed out of the room in an 'urry, and God did not cry when I read it en Français. So I rushed over to this dinner as well and interrupted 'Erc’s speech with my own.”
“At the very end,” John begins to explain in between fits of laughter, but he can’t get it out. He was laughing way too hard.
“Martha gives a standing ovation and cries out, 'Oh, George! What a lovely performance! It was like a little dinner theatre! Lovely!’ And George just goes, 'No, Martha, this was unplanned…. They’re all gay for each other.’ And those two assholes,” Herc scoffed, “Were laughing so hard that we thought they’d piss their pants!”
Alex is laughing with John at this point, but you’re completely engaged in the story.
“So all of us were so confused, and John and I had to go have a talk in the bathroom, and we concluded that we loved Herc too…”
“It was a very confusing time…” John explained as his laughter quieted down, and you patted his chest soothingly.
“So we come back out to find that Martha had downed the entire bottle of wine in celebration, and George had gone to bed, all within the span of like, two minutes. He had congratulated the other two, but said he knew it would happen eventually, and he had business in the morning. And like a badass, John opens his arms and says-”
“Welcome to the Hamilsquad!” John shouts, and you almost fall off his chest in surprise. Everyone is laughing at this point, even yourself. These boys were too cute for their own good.
“It gets better!” Laf exclaimed, and Herc roared with laughter.
“Martha, drunk off her ass, shouts 'When y'all gonna fuck?’ And George shouts down from the bedroom, 'Not while I’m in the house, boys!’ And I fucking pissed myself!” Herc guffaws, losing it again. You’re laughing so hard that you’re light headed at this point.
“He didn’t actually piss his pants,” John elaborated, causing you to laugh again. “This has been a wild story, and I just wanted to make sure you knew he didn’t.”
It took a few minutes, but everyone managed to calm down.
“So when?” You finally asked, and Herc snorted.
“That night,” John answered beneath you, and he bucked his hips in a mock thrust, causing you to slide and squeal.
“And we’ve been in love ever since,” Alex added dreamily like the end of some sappy movie, and Laf laughed.
“I loved you before, mon cher,” he purred as he grabbed Alex by the collar and pulled him in for another kiss.
Suddenly, you felt a rush of emotion. You’d always been an emotional drunk. You bursted into tears, completely startling John.
“Y/N? What’s wrong? What is it?” He ran his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you.
“You guys are so in love… like, you all love each other so much, and I’ve got a vibrator at home with half dead batteries to come home to every night!” You were also an oversharer when drunk.
The boys laughed, but stopped when you kept crying. John rubbed your back soothingly. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he whispered, “You’ve got us.”
“Promise?” You sniffled, and John nodded.
Then, in a really, really quiet whisper, he says, “I’d go straight for you.”
That one sentence is the first thing you remember when you wake up with a huge hangover in the morning, and it brings forth a question. Was he joking, or did he really mean it? Somehow, you’d developed a crush on these boys. You wanted the love they had. You wanted to be in the Hamilsquad. What had you gotten yourself into?


A/N: As requested, this is Part II! Have fun! ;)

Part I

Words: 2288 (I guess I got a little… carried away xD)
Warnings: smut

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anonymous asked:

JESUS YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST THOUGHT ABOUT OMG what if Napoleon is so hopelessly in love with Illya that he feels the need to tell him, but he doesn't have the courage to, so he says it all the time, in a language he knows Illya doesn't understand. Little did he know, Illya DOES understand this language. Napoleon finds out when after weeks of this, Illya finaly answers him, perfectly fluent in language he was not supposed to know.

ANON I’M YELLING wtf this is so good!! aksdfbshd

So imagine the silence afterwards. Napoleon blinks, before he closes his mouth. He never would have guessed his partner knew how to speak Irish.

Asking Illya since when he speaks it is the first thing to leave his mouth, after long moments of silence, stretching out between them and making Napoleon wish he could disappear. “I don’t,” Illya answers, smiling sadly, “But I know how to speak Danish.”

Another shiver runs down Napoleon’s spine - cold as ice, like the first one that had shocked him to his core. “But I only used it once,” he protests.

He hates how weak his voice sounds. A slight tremor, as if he’s on the verge of tears. Maybe he is. He doesn’t care, because Illya’s eyes are on him, so incredibly soft.

“You knew the whole time,” Napoleon gets out, finally.

“I knew the whole time,” Illya repeats and nods, “I-” His voice breaks, as if he’s close to crying too.

“I was afraid you would stop saying those things to me,” Illya confesses, voice small, eyes cast downwards.

It’s a gesture so unlike him, Napoleon has to step forward and hug his partner. There it is, both of them flayed open, ripped off the last layer of pretense. No secrets, no lies, just them. At the same time, it’s too much and not enough.

“I mimicked your speech pattern, looked a few things up,” Illya says, trying to disarm the situation, but only adding more ballast to the gravity of it, to the weight on Napoleon’s chest.

“You love me too,” he whispers and closes his eyes.

Finally, Illya’s arms come up, wrapping themselves around Napoleon’s torso. “Of course I do, how could I not?” Illya bumps their foreheads together tenderly.

“I don’t know,” Napoleon breathes, his usual charm creeping into his voice, “I’m irresistible.”

“Incorrigible,” Illya corrects, but his smile is fond, his eyes giving away everything.

“That too.”

Before his partner can protest, Napoleon kisses him. Illya makes that small sound of surprise that never fails to make him smile.

“For evigt?” his partner asks, a whispered vow against his lips.

“I can’t promise you that,” Napoleon says, what he doesn’t add is: It’s our line of work. It’s the blood on my hands - on your hands. It’s the trouble we’ll get into. It’s the things I would do to protect you.

“Forever might be a long time,” Illya agrees and Napoleon hates the doubt he hears.

Years and years of insecurity, of not being loved. A lifetime of anger, of loneliness and things he doesn’t want to think about.

Napoleon’s hand comes up to trace the scar on Illya’s temple. “Yes, but I’ll never stop fighting to be with you.”

There it is. A sloppy vocalisation of a thought that’s far more poetic in his mind. His last defense is gone - it’s only him now. He’s at Illya’s mercy.

A heartbeat. A strangled sob. Lips against his, in a kiss too desperate, too consuming.

“Neither will I,” Illya says finally and presses his lips to Napoleon’s forehead.

It’s not a great declaration of love, nothing to write or sing about, but it’s them. Thus he knows they don’t need anything else. And maybe it’s their own version of Forever.

Napoleon smiles and shakes his head at Peril’s horrendous pronunciation of an Irish term of endearment. Illya tries again, butchering it even more. Now he has to laugh, kisses the angry expression right off Illya’s face.

Yes, he thinks, they have found a way to promise each other a future together.

Måske for evigt.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Hekapoo steals Tom's diary mid "running with scissors" and gives it to Marco along with his newly earned scissors?

Ahhhhh! Tis was so fun to write! It’s a lot different than what I normally write because there’s hardly any dialogue in this! I hope you love it and enjoy it as much as I liked writing it! Enjoy!


“You earned this too.” Hekapoo told Marco. Marco looked strange as the deity was standing with her head sticking out of the fiery portal. She was holding forward a ratty brown book. “Look, kid, just take it. It belongs to my little brother… but I think you should read it. He’d want you to read it.” Hekapoo promised, and she ducked out. Marco looked at it oddly and opened the cover, his mouth dropped open when he saw who it belonged to.

Tom the Demon


Yes Hekapoo that means you.

You too Star.

Marco bit his lip. This seemed personal and something he shouldn’t be meddling in. Hence the big warning on the inside of the cover. But Marco’s curiosity was peaked and he really wanted to know why it was Hekapoo thought he should read it. They were siblings? There was so much about the demon he didn’t know! And there was so much he felt like he HAD to know. Maybe because they were friends? And he actually liked Tom. He wanted to know what he was thinking, and make sure he was okay.

So Marco opened the book. The book was big and thick, and when he opened it the first handwriting was sloppy and thick, like a child’s. It was written in odd, sloppy, symbols, but when Marco touched it the book glowed and translated to english.


My name is Tom and Rose told me to write in here. She said it would help me learn. Rose also said that I didn’t just have to write the classic symbols, I could write what I want!

Marco smiled at the passage that was most likely written by Tom when he was very young. Marco flipped through dozens of pages to try and find what Hekapoo was talking about, it had to be recent. In the timeframe of when he and Tom knew each other. Marco flipped to the later passages and kept reading.

I never actually wrote in here for a long time. Dad said it was stupid and childish. But I really have some stuff I need to say. I’ll just burn the pages later. I asked Star to go with me to the Blood Moon Ball a while back, and she said yes. But it was ruined when her friend Marco came in and stole the dance. That’s not important now. Bottom line is I kidnapped him today because he lied about dating Star. I was messing with him for a while, I think he actually thought I would kill him, but then we started talking and he was being really nice to me. Like giving me advice and stuff. It was nice of him and it made me happy to know there are people out there who care enough to take the time to help others. So I talked to Star and we talked and I apologized for the first time, for real. And I felt really good about it. I’m supposed to hate Marco, and I do! But I think he’s a good person, and I think I’m going to try to be more like him. And maybe less like what my dad wants me to be.

Marco was astounded by the passage. Tom thought he was a good person? He hated him! Marco looked down at him and reread it over and over again. “He wants to be like me?” Marco asked himself. He didn’t know that the conversation they had over ping-pong helped Tom out that much. But it did. Marco smiled a bit and turned the page.

I made a really big mistake. I agreed to do that stupid thing for anger management and spend time with Marco without getting angry. But I messed up and freaked out on him. I don’t know what it was actually. I was just going to hiss and rolled my eyes at him, and act annoyed. It wasn;t a big deal. But the thought of him wanting to leave made me feel… bad? I don’t know what it is, but, when he seemed so keen on going to the movies and ending our night together I just started to feel sad and kind of hurt. So I lashed out like I always do. I wish I could say I’m sorry in person, a real apology. But I can’t bring myself to talk to him. So I did the most logical thing and cursed him with naysayer.

Marco fell back at this. “I thought he cursed me with Naysayer a long time ago? Not after our night together?” He whispered. Did Tom lie about that? He must have because the journal kept a totally different story than the one he claimed to be real. Marco flipped the page and was taken back by how the words turned more angry.

JACKIE LYNN THOMAS! THAT MORON ASKED OUT JACKIE LYNN THOMAS! What the hell is so great about her!? She’s blonde? I can be blonde! She can skate? Big deal! I can surf on lava! She’s not impressive and I hate her.

Marco raised his eyebrow at the short passage. “Does Tom even know Jackie?” Marco asked himself. He didn’t think he did. But this passage expressed some deep hate for the girl. Marco made a face. This was all beginning to sound strange. How did all of these connect? Tom seemed to have a lot going on in his head that he just wasn’t putting down on paper. Marco turned the page, hoping to find another clue, but he got much more than that.

I’m in love with Marco Diaz.

That was all it said. Marco gasped and slammed the book closed. That couldn’t be true! Tom hated Marco! That was how it always was. He was the person he hated most, Tom said so himself. But this said something totally different. Marco picked the book up and held it against his chest. He was actually beginning to feel… happy? Tom liked him! Tom LOVED Him! This actually made Marco joyful! He squealed and looked at the sentence Tom wrote over and over. Marco smiled and took his scissors, cutting a hole in the air.

“Hey Tom?” Marco called. He had to say something! He had to tell him he read this and felt the same way! Tom poked his head out of the other room and Marco held the book out. Tom’s face went totally pale and shocked and he looked completely unable to place. He looked like he was either going to cry and become enraged with Marco, but Marco cut him off. “Tom! I can’t believe…” Marco trailed off. “I took this by mistake… thinking it was mine. But I saw your name in it and brought it back.” Marco lied, all of the sudden feeling a lot shier.

Tom’s tense and distressed expression relaxed completely. It looked like someone just told him news he’d been praying for. “Oh.” Was all Tom could muster. “You didn’t read it?” Tom asked. Marco shook his head.

“I saw it had demon symbols, and it changed I read your name and it said not to read it. So I brought it back here.” Marco responded. Tom smiled and took the book.

“Thanks for returning it to me, I um…” Tom cut himself off before he blabbed something he wanted to keep secret. “You didn’t read any of it?”

“Nope. Not a word.”

“Falling Blind” // Courferre

Rating: T
Pairing: Combeferre/Courfeyrac
Fandom: Les Mis
Word Count: 2.2k
[Also on AO3]

Summary: Combeferre doesn’t often agree to being set up on blind dates, but when he does they generally go poorly. But being set up with the WRONG blind date is certainly new.

For @courfalicious, who’s birthday is today, and is also lovely and sweet as spun sugar and infinitely patient <3333 hope you enjoy boo 

Combeferre should’ve never agreed to this. He feels stupid sitting alone, dressed up (if you could even call it dressed up when it’s only a crisp button up under a new sweater vest. The excuse to buy a new sweater vest is the only part about this whole charade he likes,) and picking at the bread basket nervously. He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous. It’s only been… well, a while, since he’s been on a proper date; let alone a date he’s actually aware he’s on—Bahorel might never let that go. That sort of thing could happen to anyone!

He checks his watch again, folding up his sleeves in the process because nerves always make his clothes feel a bit stuffy. His date is late. Very late. Of course he is. This is what happens when he lets his friends set him up on blind dates and he doesn’t know why he allows it. Knowing his luck, the guy might not even show up. He texts Enjolras as much, frowning when Enjolras has little in the way of encouragement. He’s not even sure why he’d texted Enjolras with this. Feuilly would’ve been a better choice.

He’s just about to when the door to the little restaurant flies open, bringing the late February breeze with it and… a rumpled young man. He has rosy cheeks, his curls askew, and grins two parts frazzled and one part apologetic at the Host. The young man’s coat is undone and his scarf looped incorrectly.

Combeferre is a little charmed. In a detached, uninvested sort of way.

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When Words Have No Meaning

(A deaf Au from my own post Deaf Marinette. Yeah, I wrote this while having ZERO sleep so if there are mistakes I am sorry but I am too tired to proof read this a third time… Leave a comment, message, ask, fan mail me what you think. )

Marinette was looking everywhere for her best friend. They were supposed to get started on a project that they were assigned with. It was due in two days and Marinette would prefer to have it done before there was another akuma attack. 

She walked past the library and towards the music room, checking inside, only to see the blonde sitting at the piano. Although he wasn’t the person she was looking for, the blonde was a welcomed surprise. Marinette watched him play for a moment, committing the scene to memory. 

His eyes were focused on his fingers, softly pressing the keys. It was like watching two people have a conversation, Adrien would press the key and the piano would reply. This would make it the third time Marinette had caught him playing piano and every time he would have this content look in his eyes. But he was sad at the same time… It was like he was remembering a happy memory, but he could no longer go back to that time or place when the memory occurred.

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Bits from Chapter 2 of ‘Aoi Hono II’ (Yuzu’s 2nd autobiography)

~2012 off-season~ (from interviews in Aug 2012)

After Worlds 2012 where he got a bronze medal, he had to stop on-ice training for one month to let his foot heal.  (He had sprained the right ankle during official practice the day before SP.)  

Body fat

“(After that period of rest) My muscles diminished and my thighs were only two-thirds of what they are now. But my fats increased. (laughs)  At that time, my body fat percentage was 8%.  Normally, during ice shows, it’s about 4%. During competitions, it’s about 5%. Ice shows are sometimes twice in a row, so my body fat gradually decreases. The 5% during competition time is best I think.”

Moving to Toronto

During this period of recovery, Hanyu Yuzuru made a big decision.  He decided to move his training base to Toronto, Canada, to be coached under Brian Orser.

[My own note- I read this in another book ‘Yuzuru Method’ Page103:  After his amazing free skate performance at Worlds 2012 in Nice, while he was in the skaters’ waiting room, his coach Nanami Abe told him that for next season, he should look for an overseas coach.  Having just finished his performance, it was not the right time to be thinking about next season, but her words were imprinted in his mind.]

To leave Coach Nanami and Sendai where he grew up, and go to Toronto where he could not even understand the language well, to move for the sake of skating……  It was really not an easy decision.

Hanyu procrastinated.  He wants to train in Sendai all the way;  he wants to continue skating near the people who have helped him, people whom he is indebted to.  To leave his hometown Sendai which is still on the road to reconstruction, isn’t that an act of betrayal to the people who have been supporting him? he thought.        

But inside him, there was the strongest desire of “I want my skating to become much better” and he became honest to that.  The environment where that wish could be fulfilled was found in Toronto.  

[My summary of some points: Looking at overseas coaches, he thought of Russia where he had received some coaching from 2 Russian coaches on skating expression before, but in the end, he chose Brian Orser because of the training environment of Cricket Club where coaches and trainers work in a team, and also because of the presence of Javier Fernandez whom he saw during competitions in the past season.]

17 years old, spring time, Hanyu took courage, and in May, he moved to Toronto. 

“When you think about skating and training environment, Coach Brian Orser is really good.  One big trigger was the high success rate of quads done by Javier Fernandez.”

“With Javier in the same team, I can get a good image (of jumps) and it is easier to do them.  In interviews, Javier says ‘because Yuzuru is working hard, I must work hard too.’”    

With Fernandez and Nam Nguyen (still a junior then), even though Hanyu’s English was not fluent, they became friends who worked hard together in a state of friendly rivalry.  

Training in Cricket Club

“I am enjoying it.  Just as I thought, it’s good to be with people who can do quads.”  [He goes into a lot of details.  In summary, it’s good because he can have a clear image of the jump.  He said it’s like changing from ‘analogue TV to digital TV’.   And also their presence feeds his competitive spirit and he works harder because he hates to lose.]  

“Now I also do skating practice.  It’s really ‘skating’.  Like strokes and three turns.  The feeling when you push, the height of the upper body, the lines. […] Things that you’ve always thought you could do, being told you can’t do them is very frustrating.  But I can think of it as “I can do it more beautifully”.

“Skating coaches are Tracy and Brian.  They will correct my skating part by part in the programme. […]  So that I can skate smoothly (like the number of strokes and the speed).  If I can visualise in my head all that I learned, it will be very different I think.  But, ‘I have to focus to that extent?’  Before this, I had to pay attention to 5 or 6 things, but now it feels like it has gone up to 30.  I can’t do them properly yet, they don’t come out at once, then Tracy will say, ‘Now, you were being sloppy, isn’t it?’  

My strokes and crossovers and such, they have changed a lot, I think.  [….] When skating, shifting the centre of gravity in the lower half of the body is important, but in order to shift the centre of gravity, you have to pay attention to various things in the upper half of the body.  Like the position of the hands, I have to be conscious of things like that.  It is really enjoyable.

Around me, everyone is so good.  When we do skating practice, it makes me think ‘my skating is so poor’.  But that is the happiest thing because it means I can become as good as them when I continue to train here.  Until now, I have been competing with my jumps, but I do not want to lose out in my skating too.  It’s the first time that I have this thought and it’s a fresh feeling.”  


He talked about how hard it was at first to understand instructions in English. He would base it on the feeling and make detailed notes in Japanese.  

“And also, I have the muscle diagram in my head.  When I was in elementary school, I read an illustrated encyclopedia and I really liked it.  Recently, I got a MacBook Air, and using an application, I look at what is attached to where in 3D. (laughs)  In this way, I can link up what I studied with my own senses.  It is very different when you move a muscle while thinking ‘oh it is this muscle that is moving’.   In the Evernote of my MacBook Air, I write down in English all the muscles that I am concerned about.”

Biellmann spin

“I want to continue doing the biellmann.  It’s my trademark!  And also because Evgeny Plushenko, a skater I have always admired, does that.   But he had an operation in his back and he has stopped doing this spin.”

He talked about how the body gets more rigid as one grows older and there was a recent period where he found it a bit hard to do the biellmann spin.  There is a trade-off because when he was very flexible, it was harder to have stable jumps.  But now, he feels it is alright.  He has found the right balance between being flexible and having strong muscles for jumping quads.

[next chapter: First victory in Japan national championships]

-my sharing from the book.  Section headings are added by me.  Not a proper translation, many parts are left out.  

-pics from internet, thanks to original owners. 

Maps [Part 1]

I wandered everywhere, through cities and countries wide. And everywhere I went, the world was on my side. -Unknown

Featuring: Sehun/OC

Warnings: none

Written by: Admin C

He was expecting to wake up to her face next to his, her warm breath fanning lightly over his face, for their bodies to be close and limbs intertwined intimately.

But all he woke up to was a messy bed and cold, empty sheets.

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