OK, I know it’s cutesy to think that in YOI, Yuuri or Victor would give up their medals and glory for each, and yeah, it’s a pretty romantic thought, but I think it shows a lack of understanding of what it actually is to be a top athlete.

Fuck, if winning a gold medal in the Olympics meant I just have to give up my family, my friends, my cat, and die the very next week, I’d still take that deal. I would trade my whole life, all my other life dreams, if it meant I could feel what it is like to be an Olympic champion.

This is not an overstatement. I gave up my adolescence, my friendships, practically my whole personal life to just reach the European Championships. I dedicated half my life, and when Tokyo 2020 comes, it will more than half, for my sport, for the chance to feel the glory that comes from being the best, the best of myself and the best among others. It’s addictive, it can be downright toxic, but the rush of doing a PB, a NR, and (OMG!!!) a WR makes it all worth it. All the sacrifices, all the pain, all the health problems, physical and mental, meant nothing when I won bronze in a European Youth competition, it will mean nothing when I get to that start line in the Senior competitions.

Yeah, sure, it’s cute that someone would give up their athletic dreams for the love for someone else, but ask any athlete that’s just right there, just in reach of the finals (or even just the semifinals) in a World Championship. Giving that up before you reach your mid 30s, giving up what you achieved since then?

Major fucking idiot.

Welcome to the mindset of high level competition.


Arthur came back to life without any warning or whatsoever. He just one day popped up behind Merlin and took him by surprise, aka the merthur au no one needed

Amy is the best person you could possibly work off of. She’s my favorite actress. We’re good friends [in real life], and then when we have scenes together, there’s just this thing that clicks. Honestly, when I see on the call sheet that we have a scene together, I still get really excited. It’s always something different. It’s not like we revert back to some holding pattern that we have. She always totally surprises me, and I always try to surprise her — although I’m a much less agile performer than she is in a lot of ways. [Laughs] We’re just genuinely having a lot of fun when we’re doing these scenes, no matter how short or long or serious or funny.


7 years later,that kid who awesomely played a violin during Don’t Don is still playing fantastically.what changed?he’s more passionate and have improved a lot.from the crowd who stayed quiet during his part in Don’t Don to a Fantastic stage where loud cheers and ecstatic fans,watched him .he has come a long way and i’ve never been so proud to watch him grow and do this.this the person who got hurt with nonacceptance 7 years ago and he is the same person standing strong and performing majestically until now.he’s still playing the violin while doing a moonwalk,he still does it effortlessly and it’s all because he never gave up.this person is an inspiration.(thank you ELF for falling for his charms)


Happy Birthday, Makoto Tachibana! 17.11 (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ 
you’re so perfect lemme wrap a blanket around you.


New York was pretty much everything Derek hated conveniently wrapped up in a loud, dirty city, and he often asked himself why a twenty-four year old man still let himself be bullied by his older sister.

The truth was, of course, he couldn’t bear to be living more than half an hour away from Laura, not since their family died. So he braved the smell, the crowds, and the general nuisance of the bustling streets of Manhattan because he wasn’t able to say no to her pout.

The only times Derek could tolerate the city was when he was walking around Central Park and he managed to snag his favorite spot before all the tourists and hipster white girls with their pumpkin spice lattes and Instagram got there.

He hated when that happened.

Today was one of those days. He’d gotten a call from work saying that he needed to come in on the weekend, and so he had decided to finish rereading Oedipus in the park before his whole day was ruined. But when he got there, he was horrified to find that the hipsters had already settled in, their checkered picnic blanket spread out comfortably between the two rocks where Derek liked to stretch his legs out. They looked like elven princesses, what with their tall, slender bodies, jean jackets and flowy hippie skirts, and their flower crowns. It was ridiculous and Derek wanted to maybe lie on the floor and question his life choices for a few hours.

So he decided to read on the only empty bench close to where the girls were, just so he could swoop in and claim his spot back the second they left. Settling back into the bench with a wince because ouch, he flipped open his book and had only read a few lines when he caught movement at the edge of his periphery. He looked up, intrigued, to find a young police officer saddling up his horse.

The boy was lean, but the way the breadth of his uniform stretched across his shoulders took Derek’s breath away. He was pale, his skin splashed with a spattering of moles that Derek could vividly picture himself mapping with his tongue, which of course led to the tips of his ears burning red just as the pretty cop glanced up and caught his gaze. The guy smiled shyly and Derek nodded in acknowledgement, his face still flushed and went back to his book.

He had nearly gotten to the scene of the big reveal when he heard the sound of hooves clip-clopping their way towards him and he looked up to find the same police officer approaching. Blinking, he closed his book and stared at him for a long moment.

Derek coughed awkwardly. “Is something wrong?” he asked roughly, wincing internally when the words came out harsher than he had intended.

The officer tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes there is,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, the metal of his badge glinting in the sunlight. Stilinski, it said. There was another pause before,

“You are under arrest for being smoking hot, sir.”

Derek blinked, because, really?

He squinted up at the police officer, who had a dumb grin on his face, and Derek was surprised to find himself having to resist the smile tugging at the corners of his own mouth. Instead, he shot the guy a painfully dry and unimpressed look, his eyebrows raised.

“You’ve been watching me for over 20 minutes, and that’s the best you can come up with?”

Stilinski blinked, obviously taken aback. “I, uh…” he trailed off, unsure, and Derek went back to his book with a smirk.

“No, hey, see that wasn’t even my line!” he protested, and Derek looked back up to where he had stepped closer and damn, Derek was not prepared for that kind of exposure. “I googled it,” he admitted with a sigh, startling Derek into a sharp burst of laughter.

“You wanna try again?” Derek asked, offering the guy a small smile and watching, entranced, as he ducked his head, a flush spreading across his cheekbones.

“I’m not really good at this stuff, so,” he shrugged, and Derek got up, sticking his book back into his bag and sticking his hand out.

“I’m Derek,” he offered, and Stilinski blinked at it for a brief moment before a wide smile swept across his face.

“Stiles,” the guy said, taking Derek’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake. “S’nice to meet you.”

Okay, so maybe the city might not be as bad as he originally thought.


“That was the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard,” Derek slurred into Stiles’ ear, fingers digging into the meat of Stiles’ hips and relishing the way Stiles let out a moan.

“Oh god it was three months ago, let it go,” Stiles replied breathily, dragging his lips across the stubble on Derek’s jaw and nipping at his ear. “And it still got you to sleep with me.”

“If I recall correctly,” Derek said with a raised eyebrow as he pulled back a little to look Stiles in the eye, his fingers fumbling at the button of Stiles’ pants. “I was the one who asked you out to dinner that first night.”

“Semantics,” Stiles shrugged, and Derek rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t have slept with me if you didn’t want to,” he said, his eyes going dark when Derek dropped to his knees.

Derek pulled Stiles’ jeans down and pressed a kiss to the crease between Stiles’ thigh and his groin. “I wouldn’t still be dating you if I didn’t want to.”

“Sap,” Stiles teased, and hissed when Derek followed the kiss up with a quick bite.

“Maybe you should be nicer to the guy literally about to suck your dick,” Derek offered, and Stiles beamed down at him.

“You’re the greatest, babe,” he giggled, and Derek sighed. “This is where you have laid your affections, Hale.”

Derek looked up at Stiles, meeting his gaze steadily. “And I don’t regret a thing,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of Stiles’ hand in his hair.

“This got way too feelings-y for a blowjob,” Stiles said with a sigh, and Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Are you saying no?”

Stiles scoffed, his fingers tightening in Derek’s hair. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”