#russian classical music ah i love it

[a-local-fool]

One of the things I love about the Goncharov resurgence is the soundtrack. I'm no expert but Pavarotti's Nessun Dorma absolutely smacks, and Prokofiev's dance of the knights is really incredibly dramatic and I've loved both those songs for years, and im just really glad that you all are experiencing this music with me now in spite of how niche it is. We're all connected through 1920s opera now

[dira333]

Dancing on broken glass

Request: The Song "Never let you go" from Dima Bilan

Warning: Angst to fluff, Chekov has trouble in his marriage

Mention of original Characters from a different fic

Part I - Pain

When has shore leave become such a drag?

When has he started to dread coming home?

He’s 30 now, has served under the same Captain for more than 10 years without ever losing his amazement for the stars, his Captain, the teamwork. It’s not the job, he knows that he’s still the best at what he does, has made it to Lieutenant Commander two years ago and will probably become Captain of his own Ship if he ever dares to ask.

It’s not the crew life, not his age.

It’s you.

„Pascha,“ you greet him without any excitement.

He hugs you like he always does but it doesn’t feel as close as it used to.

You even smell different, he realizes.

„Did you change your shampoo?“ He asks surprised and you pull away quickly.

„Maybe? Does it matter to you?“ You all but snap.

The ride home is silent for the most time.

„How’s work?“ He asks.

„Good. As usual.“

„Ah… And how have you been?“

„As usual,“ you snap and he falls silent, stares out of the window for the rest of the ride.

He can hear you take a deep breath, can see your hands clench around the steering wheel. It looks as if you hate him being here.

„Are you tired?“ You ask, voice significantly softer when you step into the safety of your apartment, „Or hungry?“

„Both actually,“ he replies politely and waits by the door as if he’s just a guest who needs to be shown around and not your husband.

You’re tired again, tired of this facade, but you’ve made your resolve: no fighting at home.

„I’ll make you something to eat. You can take a shower or a nap in the meantime.“

„Thank you.“

He brushes past you on his way to the bedroom and it hurts.

You can still remember the times when you couldn’t make it there for the first hours of him coming home when he had kissed you as soon as the door closed, promising to never let you go again.

You take your time with cooking, the simple task calming you down and the radio plays your favorite music, giving you the illusion that it’s just a day like any other.

„Heavy clouds, no rain, and every move causes pain,“ you freeze in the process of cutting a tomato and stare at the radio.

It’s Paschas favorite song. You haven’t heard it in a while, it’s an old Russian classic. To hear it now, with him in the other room, so close and yet so far away…

„Ready kiss, but no love, I feel I’m torn in half-“ You drop the knife and stumble over to the radio, changing the station and cutting of the singer’s voice.

It’s one thing to hear the song you listened to on your first date, but knowing what the song is about…

„Isn’t that ironic?“ You ask and turn your head slightly, watching Pascha instead of the stars in front of the window, „Your favorite song is about a love turned cold…“

„Maybe it’s a warning,“ he says and smiles at you, eyes twinkling with humor, „We should always pour the champagne…“ He jokes, referring to the lyrics.

„You brought champagne?“ You joke back and take his hand, dare to be brave for once. He blushes adorably.

The smell of something burnt pulls you out of your memories and you curse and take the pan off the stove. Great. Now you have to start again.

He’s asleep when you step into the bedroom and you can’t help to notice that even the way he sleeps has changed in the time he’s been away from you.

The Pascha you know had always been curled up in a ball and when you’ve started to sleep in the same bed with him, he had uncurled himself just enough for you to slip in between his arms.

Now he lays sprawled out on the bed, head pushed into your pillow, naked feet sticking out beneath the blanket.

You step around him and open one the drawers, looking down at the official looking papers.

You have filled them out, have stacked them together and now they wait for nothing more but his signature.

„Petition for Divorce,“ you touch the bold letters with your fingertips before pulling away and closing the drawer again.

He will be home for at least one week, you don’t have to tell him on his first evening back.

Pavel is not asleep.

He’s a horrible actor and he knows it, he’s not even in his usual sleeping position, but you still believe it.

His heart aches at the thought that you simply want to believe it. That him being asleep is less of an ordeal for you than him being awake.

And he’s a fool, hiding from you and the moment of truth.

He hears you pull open the drawer. Breathing gets harder. How can you not notice that he isn’t asleep?

Or have you noticed and this is your way of dealing with it? Are you just going to pick up the divorce papers that you haven’t hidden very well and push them into his arms?

Irreconcilable differences, you’ve even filled out the reason for the divorce.

You close the drawer and walk around the bed. He’s afraid of breathing, moving, living, but you just pat him on the back.

„Pascha, get up. The food is ready.“

There’s no love left in your voice. He has heard you talk friendlier to coworkers you have never met before.

You don’t mention the divorce papers and he won’t do it either.

He can’t, he’s not brave enough. Or maybe that’s just the child in him. The little boy that thinks he’s invisible when he puts his hands in front of his eyes.

The big boy that hopes he will not get divorced if he just doesn’t mention it.

Late afternoon and evening go by in tense silence.

They hardly talk and when they do its uncomfortable silence.

It’s a game, Pavel realizes sadly. They don’t want to fight anymore, but they both don’t know what else to do. Where has the love gone?

Baby, now it’s happened with us We are dancing on broken glass Can’t stand no more

His favorite song comes to his mind when he’s brushing his teeth. He glares at his own face in the mirror, looks for the change that must have etched itself into his features. He can’t see it.

But he knows he’s changed. They both have changed.

He wants to settle down but he can’t stay still. Restlessness is engraved into his bones.

Captain Chekov, he thinks sometimes, Admiral Chekov, I could make it so far.

You have potential, he hears Commodore Paris say, the woman looking at him with eyes that see far too much, you could have your own ship if you want too.

But I do not want to serve without my family, he thinks, Captain Kirk, Sulu, Spock, Dr. McCoy, Scotty…

He does not want to leave you behind but he does not want to drag you away. Maybe he should have made a decision after all. He should have become a Captain and take you with him on his ship. Or accepted the offer of staying with you on earth, work with you on

The first day of shore leave is reserved for family.

Everyone is with their beloved ones and Pavel just wants to get away from his.

He’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the living room, trying to read a book he picked from the shelves. The name sounds unfamiliar and he just turns the pages whenever he feels like he has stared at the letters long enough. Mostly he’s just watching you.

The TV is on but you’re working on something on your PADD, the mindless chatter from the TV filling the silence.

It’s hard to remember how all this happened. It seems as if it was yesterday that you’ve spent the day on the couch, cuddling, laughing, tickling, kissing…

And it also seems as if it was yesterday that you’ve yelled at him, thrown a plate at him, told him to that you did not want a dog to keep you company, that you wanted him…

Funny how you didn’t even want to look at him now.

There’s a shift in the air, something he can’t put in words until he realizes that the chatter is gone from the TV and it plays music instead.

His heart stops when he recognizes the song and for the first time in forever you look up at catch his eyes.

Never, never let you go You are the one I’m searching for Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone Love’s carving it in the stone

Another game. Who can hold out longer?

Pavel forgets how to breathe right in the middle of the song, feels like he’s falling into your eyes. But he’s falling upwards, up into the endless sky and there’s nothing that holds him back.

But then you look away and the spell is broken and he’s back on the uncomfortable chair, the song is over, there’s chatter on the TV and you won’t look at him again.

„I’m going to bed,“ he mumbles and gets up. You don’t react, stare at your PADD instead. You haven’t been working in the last hour, your focus merely enough to sort through your files.

His eyes are still as kind as they used to be and you know if you’d let him, he could warm you up just by looking at you.

But you’re cold and he’s too.

He will just leave again. Why warm up if you will freeze all over again as soon as he’s gone?

You wait an hour before you go to bed, giving him enough time to fall asleep.

He’s curled up on his side, but you don’t slip into his embrace. There’s no place for you anymore.

But when you pull the blanket over you, his back is pressed against yours.

You can feel his heartbeat, a little uneven, a little shaky.

He must feel different, you muse sadly, now that he’s back on earth, where everything is grounded but him.

Part II – Flight

The house is empty when he wakes up.

You’ve written a note. „Am at work. Food in the fridge, call if there’s something important.“

He holds the sticky notes on his finger tip and stares down at it.

Five years ago he had created a trail out of sticky notes, from the bedroom to the kitchen, where he had prepared breakfast, spelling „Happy 1st Anniversary“ with blueberries on your pancakes. He had spent hours to write those notes, a reason why he loves you on every single one of it. They had been in his locker on the Enterprise until he came home, and he had to hide them in his socks to make sure you wouldn’t find them when you helped him unpack.

The same sticky notes.

But this time it hurts to see the paper.

He tries to keep his mind off you, off everything that hurts, but it’s hard in this apartment, where everything is you and some of the things are still him.

Your wedding pictures in the hallways.

Cards from his parents, letters from yours.

They’ve stopped asking for grandchildren when his brother got twins. He remembers how glad he had been, that he wouldn’t need to decide between children and his career, between raising them on the Enterprise or finding a bigger apartment on this space station.

Maybe he should have made a decision. Yes or no.

But he’s a runner, it seems. At least when it comes to such things.

Your voice hits him like a sledgehammer, crystal clear and angry.

„You could have asked me! I’m your wife! Do you even care what I want?“

He turns around but you’re nowhere to be seen.

It’s a memory, he realizes. Not even a specific one. You’ve said that so many times that he can’t even count it anymore.

But he knows what you want. Divorce…

-

There’s a picture of you and Pascha in your locker. Not your wedding picture, because they look so fake with all the posing. It’s from the day David McCoy was born. Here, in this station, in the hospital right above your head.

The little boy had been nothing more but calm sweetness, a heavy warmth in your arms.

You remember staring down at him, waiting for him to open his eyes. They were blue then and you know they’re brown now, but you know how the baby had looked up at you and you had felt like your life had been turned upside down.

You had felt fear and happiness at the same time because you wanted this to happen to you, wanted to hold your own child and be afraid of not being good enough for it.

The photograph did no justice to these feelings, it just shows to adults fussing over a baby that isn’t their own, you think bitterly and close your locker.

The labs are quiet, orderly, focused. Nothing better than this to get your mind off what is waiting at home.

„Hey love,“ Spencer calls out to you, waving a coffee cup in your direction, „I got your drink. How did you sleep?“

He leaves a kiss on your cheek, hands you your coffee and lets his hand rests on the small of your back while walking next to you.

“Good,” you lie and smile back at him, trying to fight back the memories, but failing miserably.

“Your eyes get bigger when you lie,” Pasha tells you and pops another candy into his mouth, smiling brightly at you, “Therefore I’m pretty sure you’re hiding something from me.”

“It’s a surprise,” you protest, “Don’t ask me anything about it!”

He pouts adorably, his eyes twinkling like they always do when he has something in mind.

“But you said you love me. You’re supposed to tell me everything!”

You laugh and stretch out your hand, already decided to pick the grape candy you love, but Pasha snatches it away from you.

“Uhuh, no sweets for you. You’ve got to tell me the truth first.” To taunt you even more, he picks the grape candy and pops it into his mouth. But you know him and he should know you.

You move fast, falling forward and he drops the bowl with the candy in favor of catching you but when he grabs your shoulders to stabilize you, you move your head and press your lips to his, stealing the candy from him.

“The truth?” You ask when you move back again, “The truth is that I’m not going to tell you. It’s a surprise”

You blink and catch Spencer looking at you like he’s waiting for something.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just got lost in my thoughts. What did you say?”

Spencer doesn’t notice your eyes growing bigger, nor the tension in your voice. He’s not Pasha and that’s one of the reasons why you liked him to begin with.

-

There’s a Russian bakery on the main street. It’s one of the reasons you chose to stay at this space station instead of moving back to earth.

Pavel has ditched breakfast in order to get out of the house. He couldn’t stay inside, couldn’t look at another picture of you and him together or all the little stuff he can’t remember having.

When did you buy throw pillows? You used to hate them.

There are pots of herbs in the kitchen that make him remember the lemon tree he had tried to cultivate so many times. You had brought home lemons after lemons even when it was clear that he would never make that lemon tree happen.

Why didn’t he just buy one? Had he always been that stubborn?

He stops and opens the door of the bakery, forcing himself to think of something, anything else.

The air smells sweet, rich with aroma. He looks over the baked goods, focusing harder than necessary on his memories of what everything tastes like until his stomach is growling from hunger. He orders Chak-Chak and a Vatrushka with jam hopes that the sugar will lift his mood and that the strong black coffee will wake him up.

He takes the newspaper they’ve put out for the guests, happy to be able to read in his native language again. He reads careful, looks at every word, tries to keep his thoughts in neatly drawn paths.

The combination of Vatrushka and coffee leaves him with a feeling of warmth and homesickness. He misses his mothers cooking, the fields outside the house, runs in the woods and the open blue sky right above him. He takes a bite of the Chak-Chak and feels like a little boy again, fingers sticky, teeth glued together from the sugary goodness.

If only traveling back in time was as easy as remembering.

He wants to cry, barely holds himself together. He focuses on his senses, tastes the sugar, smells coffee and jam and honey, sees the dark wood of the table and the golden brown of Chak-Chak, hears…

He knows this song, he thinks and tries to catch the lyrics. It’s an old Russian song, from when they still hosted Song Contests. Julia Samoylova, he remembers, a flame is burning. His aunt’s favorite song.

Pavel listens closely when the song changes, recognizing the melody easily, fighting back the feeling of dread.

Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone Love’s carving it in the stone

He’s about to get up and leave, unable to stay and listen, when the doorbell chimes and a familiar voice drones out everything else.

He’s about to get up and leave, unable to stay and listen when the doorbell chimes and a familiar voice drones out everything else.

“Come on, Honey, let’s pick something.”

Pavel slides back into his seat and keeps his eyes fixated on the front of the shop. Lucy McCoy is all easy smiles and friendly glances in every direction, a clear sign of how happy she is to be on shore leave.

The door’s still open and the four-year-old David follows her in, carefully looking at every little thing that the bakery offers.

Pavel leans against the wall. He doesn’t want them to see him, doesn’t want to make small talk with friends that know him too well. He doesn’t know anyone who can fool Lucy and he’s not going to be the first to try.

“He’s going to lose all his teeth,” a deeper voice grumbles, the southern drawl foreign in this Russian themed environment, but so familiar to Pavel’s ears.

Doctor McCoy steps in behind his wife and son, grumbling under his breath about the amount of sugar.

Pavel has to force himself to look away when the Doctor leans forward to order two cups of coffee and one glass of milk for the three of them and kisses his wife on the cheek when she turns to look at him.

He looks at their backs instead, at the way Lucy is leaning into her husband or the fact that he’s pushed his thumb through her belt loop while David holds his other four fingers.

“Daddy,” the boy says eagerly, “Can we get presents for Uncle Jim?”

“Why would we?”

David looks up at him, clearly searching for something to say, while Luy pushes her husband’s shoulder and chides him softly.

“Because we’re nice people, Leonard.”

The doctor sighs like he always does as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he nods and smiles down at his son, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Pick something. But no nuts. The kids allergic to it.”

“I know that Dad,” David tells him earnestly and presses his hand against the glass, “I want them to try that round bread. It looks good.”

“It is a Vatrushka,” the baker says and smiles down at the boy, “It is delicious.”

The family does not stay long. They take their coffee in cups and their sweets in a little box and leave.

Pavel looks after them, at the smiles they share and the soft little kisses that are exchanged just because they can and they want to. And then there’s David, calm and caring and so much a kid that it hurts, his face and hands sticky from the sweets he’s got to try, his eyes big and full of wonder when he looks up at his dad.

I want that, Pavel thinks, I want all of that too.

And he looks out the window, looks at the reflection of light on the glass and hears the door chime again.

He sees you come in, eyes fixated on the baked goods, already thinking about what you will order today and he sees himself coming in after you, laughing out loud, a little boy on his arm that has his hair and your eyes. There’s love in his smile and happiness in yours.

And he’s pulled out of this dream by the chiming of the doorbell, pulled back into a reality where all this will never happen.

Part III - Fight

Pavel is already halfway back to your apartment when the lyrics of his favorite song come rushing back to him.

The words force their way inside his head. He tries humming something else, weird Christmas themed songs he’s heard Captain Kirk sing under his breath, even tries to remember the weird screeching noises the Sinars call music, but it’s to no avail, the song is stuck in his head.

So he lets it happen, drops down to the nearest bench and looks straight ahead into the park.

Never, never let you go You are the one i’m searching for

How cruel is this world, this universe, that even now, more than 300 years after this song has come popular, people all over the universe happen to feel the same?

Return the days we had before Soul of my soul, blood of my blood Love’s carving it in my heart

Never, never let you go, he thinks and wipes away a single tear that’s escaped.

And then he stops, doesn’t breathe for a moment, afraid that even that might scare away the thought that has found a way inside the darkness of his mind, a tiny little flicker of light.

He nurses this thought calls it softly, allows it to grow until it’s big enough to shed a light on the mess his life has turned into.

Never let you go, a man has sung, hundreds of years before, and here he is, failing to listen to the warning words yet again.

But not this time, he tells himself, no, not this time. This time he will listen to the warning, this time he will try and learn from it-

„Uncle Pasha!“ A high voice yells, disrupts his eagerness, his will to change, himself, the world, the universe.

He jumps, barely quick enough to see the little girl running towards him.

He catches her just in time when she leaps up at him and he twirls her around in the air.

She’s laughing, all blue eyes and blonde locks, squealing in joy.

„Sorry Chekov,“ the Captain apologizes and he puts the youngest Kirk down.

D'jan'a looks up at him and pouts.

„Up!“ She demands and he picks her up and settles her at her hip and she starts to dig around in the pockets of his jacket.

„D'jan'a,“ Kirk scolds warmly, „What did I tell you about pickpocketing?“

She doesn’t listen to her father but pulls a candy out of his pocket.

„Can I?“ She asks Chekov and smiles up at him, eyes big and bright and so so innocent.

„No,“ her father says, „It’s Chekov’s candy. And you know that Mum doesn’t want you to eat candy before lunch.“

„But I want!“ She demands, her tiny hands clutching around the candy. She’s just seconds away from one of her famous temper tantrums. Chekov knows how to spot the signs now.

He pulls her a bit closer and mumbles something into her ear. „If you behave I will tell you a secret.“

She calms down instantly and turns around to look at him.  „What secret?“

„Well, I did see David buy a present for you today.“

D'jan'as eyes grow big.

„What? What?“

„Well it’s in a white paper box and you can eat it.“

„Cake?“ She asks excitedly and when Chekov nods, she squeals and demands to be let down. When he sets her on the floor, she scrambles over to her dad and pulls on his trousers.

„Daddy?“ She asks and pushes out her lip as if to persuade him.

„You’ll have to ask Mum,“ he tells her and points towards a group of people on the other side of the park’s playground.

D'jan'a runs off without another word and her father looks after her with a smile that’s half amused and half tired.

„Kids,“ he says, as if it wasn’t his first and if the girl wasn’t just a bit over two years old.

And Chekov looks after the girl as well, thinking about the children you wanted to have and the stories his brother tells about how much work parenthood is and he knows that he wants it all. With you.

„Keptin?“ He asks and Kirk turns, easy smile and relaxed posture, a man on shore-leave, „Can I talk  to you for a second?“

They sit on the park-bench for a while. Probably just an hour, but it feels like way more and when they get up to go separate ways, Kirk pulls him into something like a hug.

„I don’t want you to leave,“ he says, „Not just because you’re an amazing Navigator, but because you’re one of my closest friends.“

„We will stay friends,“ Chekov promises and bites down the rising fear and Kirk, no, Jim, smiles at him and nods.

„For sure. I mean, you’re practically my brother, right? My daughter already calls you her uncle.“

Chekov sniffles and Jim nods earnestly and they shake hands and promise to keep in touch over the next days. It’s all there’s left to say.

-

You’re in the middle of writing your report about the newest data from your experiments when Spencer stops next to your desk, putting a cup of coffee and a cinnamon bun in front of you.

„Something sweet for someone sweet,“ he smiles at you and you smile back and it’s fake for the first time since he’s transferred into your department.

Spencer’s cute. He’s polite and charming, but he’s also so American that it’s almost allowed to use it as a verb to describe him.

You bite your own tongue for that thought. No, he’s not, you think, just like you can’t be described as Russian. It’s only your nerves being on edge and your dislike of everything that contains cinnamon.

You take a bite of the sweet bun and imagine it being a Vatrushka, warm and fresh out of the oven, with jam and a glass of milk. Your mouth waters and you sigh in bliss just at the thought of your favorite sweet and you smile involuntarily.

„That good, huh?“ Spencer asks with a smile in his voice but before you can answer he straightens and looks over the desks towards the main door.

„Huh? A visitor? That’s rare.“

You raise your head as well, looking toward the door and when you spot him, your blood runs cold.

„Are you okay? Do you know the guy?“

„Yeah,“ you manage to croak out, not moving, unable to take your eyes from Pasha. He’s standing in the doorway, his hair a curly mess and he carries that cute look on his face that made you fall for him in the first place. This mixture of I’m-uncomfortable-with-everyone-looking-at-me and Don’t-mind-me-guys-I-don’t-want-to-disturb. He’s out of place and right in it at the same time and he smiles brightly when your boss steps up to him, shakes his hand and leads him away.

What does that mean, you wonder, afraid and confused at the same time? What is happening?

„So you know him?“ Spencer asks curious and you’re reminded again that he likes to gossip.

„Yes,“ you repeat, „He’s my husband.“

Spencer freezes and looks at you with something written in his eyes that you can’t even hope to put into words.

„We’re divorcing,“ you mumble weakly but he just steps away from your desk and smiles, politely and unattached to anything that could be a feeling.

„Well, I will leave you to your work.“

As if you could concentrate on your reports now.

-

He’s home.

You’ve stayed at your desk until he’s left your work place, you’ve tried to work your reports but ended up doodling into your notebook for solid three hours.

You’re disgusted by your work ethic, your lack of focus but there’s no helping that if you don’t go home first and talk to him.

Your inner alarms blare when you step through the door.

It smells like food and not just like any food, but your favorite dish. There are only two people in the universe who know what your favorite dish is and are able to make it and one of them is your grandmother.

You put your bag down and step into the kitchen.

He’s in the middle of setting the table and you stop to stare.

There are your favorite flowers on the table and a white paper box is placed next to eat. You know that kind of box, know the bakery it must come from.

„What are you doing?“ You ask your voice a bit louder than necessary and a bit shriller than you wanted it to sound.

He looks up at you, a soft smile on his face.

„I made you dinner.“

„I see that. No, I mean, I smelled it. But the flowers? The sweets? What are you trying to do?“

„I want to talk,“ he offers and sets two plates in front down on the table, „And I think that a relaxed atmosphere would help with that.“

„Maybe I don’t want to talk,“ you snap. You know you’re reacting unreasonable, but you can’t stop yourself.

Pasha looks at you, a serious look on his face. For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks exactly as old as he is, like a grown man who knows what he’s doing.

„I’ve seen the divorce papers.“ He says.

You have to hold onto the chair to keep from falling and he’s nice enough to come for your help.

„I’m sorry,“ you hear yourself mumble and he sits down in front of you, looking concerned.

He’s not supposed to be concerned.

„For what? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you didn’t know how to save this relationship on your own and looked for a way out while you still could.“

„Yes,“ you whisper hoarsely, „Are you mad?“

„Sad,“ he corrects you, „Immensely. And yes, mad at myself, because when I sobered up enough from my despair I realized that we never really listened to each other when we fought and we never really listened to our song.“

„Never let you go?“ You ask numbly and look down at your food when you feel like you can’t look at his face anymore.

Where has your anger gone? You should scream at him, but there’s no fight left in you.

„I hate what we’ve become,“ you say and he smiles so sadly it breaks your heart even more.

„Me too,“ he mumbles and stretches out his hand to take yours.

You slip yours under the table, away from his reach and look away from the hurt on his face.

„Listen,“ he says, urgency in his voice, „I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. A lot of them only because I was afraid of making decisions, afraid of making mistakes.“

„That’s ironic,“ you mumble.

„Yeah, I know. I’m trying to fix it if you’ll let me.“

„How? How do you want to fix this? Do you think flowers and sweets will mend my heart?“

„No,“ he interrupts you, „No, I don’t think they will. But I’ve taken the time and thought about everything you screamed at me and everything you didn’t. And you were right in a lot of things. I pushed what you wanted aside and put myself first and let the fear of not being a good father keep me from being one.“

„So you want to have a child now?“ You ask bitterly, „You think a child will keep this marriage alive? I want children, Pasha, but I won’t have one just so you can go off with the Enterprise again and come back every few months for a surprise visit.“

„I’m not going back,“ he says and you stop to gape at him.

„What?“

„I quit,“ he says and there’s enough sadness in his eyes for you to believe his statement.

„If you’ll have me,“ he says and stretches his hand out again, lays it down on the table, palm up, waiting for you to take it, „I will stay. With you. Your contract lasts for another two years. Let me try to fix this, to be the husband I know I can and want to be. If it doesn’t work, we will go separate ways. If it does, we will decide together. My crew is my family, but the two of us, we became a little family of our own when we married. And I won’t sacrifice this just because I’m afraid of being left behind by my friends.“

„I’m sorry,“ you whisper and he nods, tears in his eyes. You can see him fight for his voice again, just like you fight to stay upright, to keep swimming in the floods of feelings.

„It starts with this,“ he says, „You decide. If you take my hand, I will promise, that this time, I will never let you go.“

[fipindustries]

tagged by @st-justt-just these are always an issue for me because i dont have a "Playlist" of any kind, i just let youtube put together playlists on my recomendations page so with that in mind, lets see what comes up.

Bradinsky on violin - [tetris tengen] by bradis fuller - funny thing about this, you may hear it and think "ah yes, a song inspired by classical russian folk music". in reality is a fully original song made by the composer. hence the BRAD-insky.

Ya te vas a mejorar (speed up) - el cuarteto de nos - i like this version of the song about a guy who gets brain damage and becomes a chainsaw murderous maniac over the original. is not quite nightcore but its certainly more energetic.

Aikendrum - Ewan Maccoll - i got this out of a cute webcomic about jekyll and hyde. i have no idea what this song is about but i sure do love the scottishness of it all. aikendrum aikendrum is a great catchphrase.

As your father i expressly forbit it - Neil cicierega - the theme of this song is so weird for a neil cicierega song. is about such a intimate, mundane topic and the double punch of this and earn my life is actually kind of brutal to hear in spirit phone.

Noches de boda - Joaquin sabina - i fucking love the intro of this song by chavela vargas, i remember when i first heard this song i thought it was some old guy but no it was one of the most famous female singers from mexico. as an argentinian there is something delightful about hearing a spaniard and a mexican singing together like old friends. great fucking song to sing drunk out of your ass at 4 in the morning

El cisne que ladra - maria elena walsh - my love for children songs continues undaunted, specially the songs by elena walsh. there is something very otherverse about this song in particular because its about a thieving swan who goes to a lake one night and steals a treasure hidden in that lake. then the next morning when the sun comes out you cant see the treasure anymore because the swan stole it but it turns out the treasure were the night stars being reflected on the lake, its just so beautifully poetic

California heaven [mashup of california girls by kathy perry and heaven by envy, plus a bunch of other songs] - Jason rollins - i just discovered this guy a few weeks ago because he just started doing this a few months ago and he turned out to be such an incredibly strong entry in the genre of weird, deep fried, dense mashups. i highly reccomend to listen to the rest of his channel

Octopus garden -the beatles - i saw a documentary about why the beatles broke up recently and knowing that this song was composed by ringo as the team was going through deep tensions and fights about to separate makes this song so much more heartbreaking. ringo just wanted for him and his friends to get along and be happy on an octopus garden beneath the sea. jesus dude, me too.

Desaparecido - Manu chao - weirdly political song for what i usually listen to. a song about the experience of illegal immigrants living in the united states without papers. one funny thing about manu chao is that he is famous for many spanish songs that talk about the hardships of the latin american experience and the guy is fucking french. i genuenly could not have been able to tell just from listening to him.

Brindo por las mujeres - Los rodrigez - just a fantastic song by one of my favourite singers from my country, andres calamero. another great fucking drinking song to yell drunk off your ass with friends at 4 in the morning and frankly a great way to end this list

honestly i am rather proud of how incredibly ecclectic is this list, i think this is a pretty good crossection of the wide range of my musical tastes

im tagging @not-terezi-pyrope @ericvilas and @mrcatfishing

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. 💥

OK THREE RANDOM FACTS ABOUT MOI

(Am I supposed to do this publicly? You bad I am language confuses me :D )

EH-HEM

I can't see stars. Supriiiiiiiiise I can see Venus and maybe one other if I stare at it for five minutes but mostly the night sky is b l a n k. Gotta love vision loss

I (ironically) adore classical music because ah and yes and mmm and Tchaikovsky and words. Ok music is great and I love classical music because it can take me from walking down the Seine under a start night sky to waltzing in a Russian ballroom to anxiety about being buried alive to fighting Napoleon with cannons to Mars. Yeah it's bonkers (these are all specific pieces I'm referencing, if ya wanna know they're Claire De Lune, Waltz if the Flowers, Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# Minor, 1812 Overture and Mars the Bringer of War)

I've been doing ballet for 10 years now and yes, I have point shoes

[allexei]

nicholas galitzine + he/him + cis male – have you seen alexei rakov around los angeles? the twenty five year old is usually jamming to nervous by the neighbourhood. word around the city is that they’re compassionate, yet, they can also be sensitive, but you didn’t hear that from me. they’re currently a veterinary science student and a librarian and are typically seen walking the streets of los angeles with a backpack filled with books. when i think of them, i think of crying over being so stressed about school, dying your hair back and forth as a secret coping mechanism, the playing of multiple instruments but a strong love for the violin and piano. let’s hope the city treats them good!

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: alexei antonis nikos rakov ( first name pronounced ah-lek-say, or click here for pronunciation ) ⟶ nicknames: likes alexei, doesn't like when people try calling him alex, but is too nice to correct anyone who does ⟶ three things he likes: instruments of any kind, summers in greece, books ⟶ three things he dislikes: people who just want sex, slow wifi, the instability he’s felt his whole life ⟶ gender: cis male   ⟶ height: 6 ‘ 0 ⟶ age: 25 ⟶ birthday: february 19, 1998 ⟶ zodiac: pisces sun ( aquarius - pisces cusp, known as the ‘cusp of sensitivity’ ), cancer moon, virgo ascendant   ⟶ right handed or left handed: left handed   ⟶ eye color: hazel, shooting more towards green, shifts depending on the lighting ⟶ hair color: naturally blonde, constantly dyes it from blonde to black and back and forth ⟶ piercings and tattoos: left ear pierced, no tattoos ⟶ languages spoken: russian ( father’s native tongue ), greek ( mother’s native tongue ), spanish and english   ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: demisexual / homoromantic  ⟶ place of birth: manchester, england ⟶ last five songs listened to: time by pink floyd, vitamin c by can, für elise by beethoven, méditation from thaïs by massenet, happiness is a warm gun by the beatles ⟶ five aesthetics: the intense feeling of feeling unworthy of being loved by anyone, shirts stained with black hair dye, a soft british accent, a stack of homework, crying over things you have no control over ⟶ character inspo: prince willhelm from young royals, charlie spring from heartstopper, adam groff from sex education ( season 3 adam )

background story ;

✘ alexei was born on a cold night in manchester to nikola ganos and sergei rakov, two twenty year olds who fell in love through music. his mother was a famous piano player ( think maybe like yiruma or ludovico einaudi ) while his father was getting more of a name for himself as a cello player. both classical musicians who fell in love and had alexei, very unexpectedly 

✘ his parents are both really well off. his mother’s side owns one of the the biggest olives and olive oil brands worldwide, originated in greece, while his father’s side owns plenty of alcohol brands ( mostly vodka ) originated in russia but sold all across the world as well. they were young, but they knew their son would be coming into the world very well off financially, planned to give him the perfect childhood, even got married when he was merely five months old

✘ and for the first six years of alexei’s life, that’s what it was. two parents who were devoted to him and wanted to give him the best life possible in england, even though neither one of them were british. but as he went from six to seven, all that love his parents had for each other seemed to dissolve more and more each day. his beautiful early childhood turned into him listening to his parents fighting constantly, and even though he was so young, he couldn’t help but ask himself – where did my parents’ love for each other go?

✘ and if you guessed it, they ended up getting a divorce when he was barely seven, but the thing is… his parents weren’t like normal parents. it wasn’t the typical case of custody with one parent while the other has visiting rights, or even shared custody of 3 days a week here, and four days a week there, or even complete custody of him to just one parent, no, his parents were determined to fight for him until the bitter end

✘ it turned into a game of who alexei liked more, they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room together, and it was really difficult to tell a little kid ‘who do you love more?’ or ‘who do you want to live with more?’ or ‘you have to pick’ or even just his father trying to put him against his mother while his mother did the same thing to him with his father. sometimes, alexei felt like they didn’t even really love him, but just wanted to prove to the other that he could love one or the other more

✘ eventually, they settled for custody in the worst way possible. alexei would live with his mother for six months, then he would live with his father for six months, and maybe this wouldn’t be so awful if they both decided to stay in england, live maybe a city or two away from each other, but no, definitely not. they immediately left his birth place, his mother going back and forth between greece and spain, while his father traveled from canada to russia repeatedly, and well… this is what alexei’s life became

✘ maybe to some people, it might sound ideal. not staying in one place for too long, constantly moving from one city, knowing you wouldn’t be staying there for longer than six months, perhaps to any traveler, this is the dream life, but that certainly wasn’t the case for alexei

✘ this going back and forth put a serious strain in every aspect of his life. he would enroll in a school, make a friend or two, only to be ripped away from that scene for the following six months, halfway across the world, for the same thing to happen to him, over and over again

✘ and the worst part was that his parents didn’t seem to understand that it didn’t make him happy, all the going back and forth. he was unstable, he didn’t even know how to really talk to people at one point, because he knew deep down, that there was no use in trying to make any friends if it would just be taken away from him sooner or later

✘ basically, a loner. he spent most of his childhood to early teenage years dodging conversations, definitely ate his lunch in the bathroom vibes. the only consistency his parents had was their love for music, which, is the one thing that did make alexei happy. he was a virtuoso. from the piano, to the cello, to the bass, even the drums, saxophone and viola, he loved it all, though his true love was in the guitar, piano, and more especially, the violin. he grew a real love for mussic, had multiple instruments at his mother’s and multiple instruments at his father’s, again, the one consistency in his life

✘ while he wasn’t big on singing, he basically had the voice of an angel. could switch from a soft tone to a rather loud one, a male soprano range… truly a gift, tried to break glass to see if it was true and it in fact, wasn’t a myth ( at least in his case ). pretty much any orchestra teacher’s wet dream, a typical band nerd

✘ he also had a huge fascination for books, his favorite genre being sci fi, horror, or a good coming of age, but honestly, he read it all. nothing could fuel him more than a good book

✘ anyways, when he was sixteen, he convinced his parents to enroll him in a boarding school in northern california, very pca from zoey 101 vibes, and they surprisingly agreed since it was neither with his mother nor his father, but a spot in between. for the last two years of high school, he had some type of stability

✘ though, during his senior year, he became the talk of everyone through the most unfortunate event. simply put, alexei met a guy. at this time, he wasn’t even really sure of his sexuality. he knew he wasn’t straight, but he didn’t think it was just that. he felt like there was more depth to what he liked and didn’t like, but this guy managed to charm him. he was good looking and alexei enjoyed the fact that he smelled good. this was his first relationship ever. prior to this, he shared his first kiss when he was fifteen with a random girl near his mother’s house in athens, and simply put, he didn’t like it

✘ this was different though. he enjoyed kissing him, but he didn’t feel like doing anything else but that, and the more the guy insisted they take it further, the less inclined he felt to give him what he wanted. he liked him, but he didn’t feel a genuine bond with him

✘ alexei, however, is a people pleaser. he didn’t want to have sex with him even though at this point, they had been dating for well over two months. he didn’t know why he didn’t want to, he couldn’t pinpoint why having sex was such a weird and touchy subject for him, but basically, he felt, in a way, guilt tripped by this guy. it was the constant questioning of ‘why don’t you like me?’ or ‘what’s wrong with you?’ or even ‘i promise i’ll make it worth your while’ and one day, they both get drunk at a hotel, and even though alexei has been drunk plenty of times before, well, he caves, instantly lives to regret it

✘ the following day, as he’s walking towards his first class, people are whispering about him, not so discreetly pointing, giving him looks, and it takes him a matter of fifteen minutes from getting to his first period before one of his friends sends him a text message with a link attached, much to his horror. the message reads ‘is this you?’ with a link to a video. the video is them having sex the night prior

✘ he had filmed it all and posted without his consent. they were both of age, but it literally made alexei sick to his stomach. for one, he felt really used, as he never gave him permission to record anything, let post what they did, and two, he hated the attention this was getting him. he’s always been one to fly under the radar, and now this was all anyone was talking about, lost count over how many times he’s cried over this

✘ the following months reaching towards graduation are literal hell for him. the video gets to his parents which is quite literally his worst nightmare become a reality. legal action is taken and they thankfully manage to remove the video from the web completely, but the damage has already been done, he’s miserable. worst graduation ever, doesn’t even walk the stage because he’s just so humiliated, and for once in his damn life, he wishes he would have been in that constant moving back and forth life. maybe then, he could’ve ran away from the problem the second it started, sad boy hours, really

✘ after graduation, he gets out of california. for about two years, he just travels. ironic considering it’s something he didn’t like to do when he was younger, but at that point, he just wanted to get away from everything

✘ he’s twenty when he moves back to california. crazy, but even though he has bad memories, it was the one place he felt stable. he permanently moves to los angeles, southern cali, which is far from the school he graduated in, tells himself that here, no one knows what happened. perhaps this is a good thing about being rich, that he never really had to worry about money, it’s just always been there. a paid off apartment, a simple call to his mother or father and bam, money in his account, but truth be told, alexei didn’t want to live off his family’s fortune forever. now that he was stable and had no intentions of moving, he wanted to do something with his life

✘ he’s a really smart guy. shy, quiet, but smart. he changed his major about three times before deciding he wants to be a veterinarian, is studying veterinary science, finished his bachelors and is moving on with his education. he knows he doesn’t have to do anything with himself if he doesn’t want to, he knows he doesn’t need a job as a library assistant, but he wants to make something of himself, without his family’s money. he knows he can do it, it’s just a matter of not giving up

headcanons ;

✘ natural blonde, but constantly dyes his hair black, then switches. dying his hair is almost therapeutic for him, has even gotten buzzcuts during times where he was really depressed, but he prefers longer hair

✘ he has a british accent, literally nicholas galitzine’s voiceclaim. not too strong, but it’s there

✘ speaks russian with his father in absolute shame, my guy is definitely free ukraine all the way, just wants peace and love

✘ because of his past relationship, he has a very difficult time trusting people, loving people, or even allowing people to love him. he’s had sex that one time… that’s about it. the whole idea of love really confuses him. it’s something he wants, but it isn’t something he’s sure he understands, and he hates not understanding things

✘ he has been confused with his sexuality his entire life! he’s always felt like an outcast around other guys his age because they all typically wanted sex, meaningful, meaningless, just a typical guy thing, and that definitely didn’t apply for him. for ages, he thought there was something wrong with him, but it wasn’t until he learned about demisexuality that he finally understood… kind of. he just wants it to be meaningful, wants to have a connection with the person, the idea of meaningless sex and hookups literally makes him super uncomfortable, but it’s what most people seem to want these days. he just wants real love, even though that terrifies him

✘ he doesn't really have a lot of social media, just an instagram that he barely posts on. he's that one user that made a post three years ago and has four posts in total, one of himself, the rest of books, one of food, and some type of landscape... he's this guy, he's a loser honestly, probably has like a hundred followers or something, doesn't care for social media

✘ his favorite things in the world are books, animals, comics, and music. he’s a major nerd, has a passion for literature and music even though this isn’t what he’s pursuing for his career

✘ he doesn’t really tell people his family is wealthy, just doesn’t really think it’s important. in fact, lots of people don’t know much about him. he likes to keep to himself, doesn’t like sharing information, and wants to keep his past in the past

✘ he can drink. call him a typical russian or whatever, but it’s crazy how much he can drink, can practically outdrink anyone, no one believes it but it’s very true, tolerance through the roof, doesn’t even get sick and rarely even gets hungover, but he doesn’t make this an everyday thing

✘ he’s a pescatarian! probably will never become a vegetarian because he loves salmon way too much, loves salmon in every form possible. meat and chicken gross him out and he doesn’t like eggs either, just fish, heavy seafood lover

✘ close friends of his roast him for this, but he’s an olive fanatic as well. greek olives, peruvian olives, spanish olives, any type of olives, he’s obsessed. when he was younger, there was always olives at his house, because of his mother’s company, and he would dead ass eat them out the jar, finish the entire jar in like five minutes, still does that to this day. at his house, you’ll likely find two large jars of olives, minimum, a snack he will never get tired of

✘ his social skills have somewhat gotten better. definitely not the best, but he was horrendous before. thankfully overcame his stutter when he was younger. he’s still really shy, doesn’t like being the center of attention, but he’s getting better… baby steps

✘ what you would call a typical pisces – very sensitive! he doesn’t show this publicly, but if it hurts his feelings, he’ll cry when he gets home. literally the type to cry over sad videos, movies or tv shows, very emotional. pisces sun and cancer moon combo, he’s a literal mess, he feels things a lot, feels things on a whole different level than most people, which makes him a very compassionate and understanding person, definitely a shoulder to cry on, a very loyal friend to have by your side

✘ he forgives a lot. he’ll forgive you time after time after time, but when alexei genuinely gets tired of your shit, you will never hear from him again. he’s very forgiving, but once he says ‘i’m done’ there is no changing his mind. it takes a lot for him to get to this level, but he can only be taken advantage of for so long before he gets sick of it. once you lose him, you lose him for good

✘ he has a bearded dragon named jake long and a beagle named pawl mccartney. he named the bearded dragon after one of his favorite shows as a kid and his pet beagle was named after iconic paul mccartney, of course. jake long is one and pawl is two, alexei adores both of them

✘ loves his parents, but still somewhat holds a grudge over them for his childhood, even though he isn’t one to hold grudges. they definitely messed him up one way or another. even if it wasn’t their intention, being so unstable for so long has kind of permanently scarred him. he has a very hard time getting genuinely close to people, whether it be friendships or romantic relationships, it’s hard for him

✘ super nice guy, but quite literally remembers every bad thing that has happened to him ever. his energy is crying over something that happened when he was a literal child that he had no control of at three in the morning, might as well have the memory of an elephant. he’ll forgive, but he won’t forget, like ‘you remember what you did august 15th, 2016 at 4:57 pm? i do too’ like… isn’t one to hold grudges, but if you thought he forgot, you thought wrong

wanted connections ;

you don’t know that i know: i’d die for this connection, but someone who maybe heard of his sex tape? whether they never tell anyone or act like a little shit about it is utp, but alexei doesn’t know that they know, you know?

you think you can outdrink me?: a muse who thinks they can outdrink him, but they never can, could turn into a whole little competition, could be really funny

classical music lovers: title says it all, two nerds passionate about classical music, bonus if this muse is a fan of his parents or has heard of them

slow love: a poor, unfortunate muse that likes him. they could like how nice and down to earth he is, alexei could even know that they like him, but considering how iffy he is about relationships, well… yeah

all my friends are fake: someone who doesn’t like him because they think his whole nice guy act is fake, or maybe doesn’t like him for whatever other reason

book nerds: a fellow book and comic lover like him, maybe they spend their time in the library being literal nerds

cry baby: another muse who is sensitive like he is, they’re just soft besties and want peace and love, very wholesome friendship

or we can brainstorm!

birthchart ;

[tutuandscoot]

Ah thank you for answering my costume question! Now reflecting on it further, I hold my opinion (never noticed the gradient, love that!). But I appreciate your comments on dress versus costume. I think now having thought more analytically, I wish the packaging had been more consistent. All of the Seasons looks were so different. I just adored the green dress with the hair down because it was so pretty. But was it a great packaged costume? I prefer the soft pink leaning into ballerina look for the program.

Maybe I’m not content with the packaging for IE Olys because I don’t love T with the high bun either. I love love love her MR bun. So I don’t know. I just think that the IE Olys pink dress looks…cheap? Overall packaging not great - for the whole season - but anyways would so love to hear others’ opinions and really appreciate yours!

No worries. I definitely agree with you the packaging was inconsistent. My fave look by far that season was the first pink dress from SCI with Scott in the deep red shirt and velvet pants 😌. It definitely leaned into the ballerina look in more of a modern, storyless Romeo and Juliet vibe where as the olys was more traditional classical. Me personally being a ballet dancer I really appreciate the classical look because so often in skating you get really bad takes on ballet music and costumes and with TS they just look and dance the part- it’s the only non- offensive balletic skating I’ve ever seen (*other then Yuna [in general] and Sasha cohen’s white swan). Also remember in that interview with that little bitch from the Skating lesson, that they were encouraged to choose a russian composer for that oly season so I definitely feel their oly looks took that russian imperial inspiration.

Personally out of the two oly looks I prefer the ‘egg’ dress one. Mainly because it reminds of these costumes from my favourite ballet- a production of nutcracker by a choreographer called Graeme Murphy. It’s is a production that was created (and I believe only performed) by my home company the Australian Ballet, where all the original music is used but the story changed to be this biographical telling of Clara’s life as a ballerina in Russia- this costume is from the part in the story where Clara is dancing a performance as part of the Imperial russian ballet company- timeline wise in I think the 1930’s (like a performance within a performance)

so yeh for me it reminds me of that so personally I love it but for people without that connection the overall seasons packaging was frantic and I kinda think that’s reflective of the situation that season as a whole that they were just trying to get to the top and beat DW. Not really sure of the right direction.

I really like her hair down and the MR bun as well. Like I said with the dresses I like them differently standing still as a design to what I do moving and I feel the same way about the high bun. Really she’s just stunning either way so I can’t complain 😄🥰

I love having these kinds of discussions so yes keep them coming- I love talking costumes and styling and packaging.

[riotinapublicstation]

I put some of the greatest love songs into Google Translate and the results were... interesting.

To get one thing out of the way, not everyone likes Valentine's Day. Some people are broke, some people are alone and some people see it as a moneymaking marketing scheme to play on your emotions. Damn you, capitalism! Curse you for making me feel bad if I don't spend my hard-earned money on expensive flowers that will die five days after I purchase them!

There's one thing I like about Valentine's Day though. We get to dig out those cheesy, lovey-dovey hits. The rock ballads, the pining sonnets, oh the songs of affection and romance and... love. Ick.

I could've dived into what makes Dolly Parton's I Will Always Love You a good song, but does anyone actually care? We need cheering up. You shouldn't take love so seriously. So I didn't.

I put a handful of everyone's favourite love songs and threw them into the messy blender that is Google Translate. And while they were in there, they were massacred. Slaughtered. Murdered. I'm guilty of murder here, folks. The things I do for love? I digress.

‘God Only Knows’ by the Beach Boys

I put Brian Wilson's masterpiece through a translation of English to French, then to Spanish, to Japanese, to German, to Russian, to Malay, to Italian, to Japanese again and then back to English.

Shushing and psychopathic laughter ensues!

'She Loves You' by the Beatles

I dragged 'She Loves You' through to traditional Chinese, to Korean, to Vietnamese, then to simplified Chinese, then grounded it in Welsh. This was the final English result.

Still a sweet love song. Sounds a little antagonistic now though... YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY, RIGHT?!

''Woman in Love' by Barbra Streisand

Barry Gibb of the Bee Gees famously penned this beautiful song for Barbra Streisand, and it became one of the most successful hits of her career. Let's see if it's still beautiful after suffering through Russian, to Polish, to Hungarian, to Ukrainian, to Mongolian, to Norwegian and finally, Dutch and English.

We think... holistically. Okay, Barbra.

'My Girl' by The Temptations

'My Girl' has been covered and re-recorded by lots of different artists over the years, from Otis Redding to The Rolling Stones; it is a timeless take on devotion and admiration. Ah who cares, let's translate it to Azerbaijani, to Lithuanian, to Romanian, to Estonian, to Punjabi, to Urdu, to Bengali and see what happens.

This was the best one. Some classic lines here. He ate the sun. Bye bye uncle! I'm not sure how the translation got so confused between family dynamics but I am very grateful.

'My Heart Will Go On' by Celine Dion

Titanic made millions at the box office, and this song is most associated with the perilous, doomed love story of Jack and Rose. And just like the ship, this song goes down very fast... translated from Bengali, to Urdu, to Arabic, to Sepedi, to Yoruba, to Samoan, to Kurdish, and finally to its native English...

I'm not sure why, but it sounds very argumentative. I opened the door again... IT'S IN MY HEART!! NO!!

'Make You Feel My Love' by Adele (Bob Dylan)

Adele's hit rendition of 'Make You Feel My Love' became a stepping stone to her almost endless curriculum vitae of modern love songs. She can thank the breezy, loving lyricism of Bob Dylan - the dying honesty of his words is what makes the song so emotional to listen to. I was curious but also worried to see how lost this one could get in translation, since the language is very transcendent and grounded. Anyway, here it is translated roughly seven times through Basque, Arabic, Azerbaijani, Portuguese, Romanian, Urdu and Hindi. Also bit of Yiddish for good measure.

I personally like the anticlimax at the end - I will, actually, do nothing.

'Your Song' by Elton John

Elton John's simple love song is in actuality one of his most popular, successful and recognisable pieces of music in his discography. So there must be some sort of redemption for these lyrics in Google Translate, right? RIGHT? Let's find out. I translated the song through around ten times, from Icelandic to Macedonian, Punjabi to Arabic, to both simplified and traditional Chinese, to Japanese, then to Arabic again, then to both forms of Chinese again.

I do like how it becomes less about the girl and more about living in the countryside. Maybe he was put off by the idea that she was stealing things from the street.

There we are! God, what a cesspool. What have I created?

Anyway, I hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day and got spoilt rotten. This was just for a bit of fun, though I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to get Google to operate with non-sensical mish-mashes of the English language...

[luwritesomething]

DAMIAN WAYNE HEADCANONS !!!

ah, love of my life. this man right here got me years ago into learning more about the batfam and now here i am. you can say it’s kind of his fault. anyways,,, no one asked for this but my brain did. 

requests are open! hit that anon button and tell me your idea!

warnings: swearing, hadn’t been proof-read.

damian’s head is a MESS. don’t get me wrong, the guy is a little genius, but imagine the chaos of languages he has -- arab, english, chinese, i’m a hundred percent he knows russian, urdu is nanda parbat’s official language... 

because of this (^^) he just sometimes shuts down and stays silent. he can’t even think.

he loves all animals but he can’t handle insects. jason found out, and damian bribed him with a collectors special edition of classical books. nobody must know his weaknesses.

he writes in cursive, i have no clues but also no doubts.

words are difficult for him, that’s why he talks the way he does -- so professionally, like he is from another age. 

can stand tim (in small amounts) but no longer they will always have an intellectual rivalry -- it’s probably more from damian’s side rather than tim’s.

he still feels like he has to hide that he looks up to dick.

damian searched what fanfiction was. he’s scarred for life now. 

he’s straight up bored of paparazzi. he’ll go lady gaga on their ass and stare at the ones that are hidden in a bush trying to take pictures of him in secret.

also he will go full cole sprouse on the people trying to take pictures on him while he’s walking through gotham (this means he will snap pictures of the civilians before they snap a picture of him. camera duels, that’s the name)

listens to A LOT of music. everything his siblings listen to, he does too. classical music is his favorite, however. (also enjoys jazz).

taking care of his animals and his duties as robin are his favorite activities.

doesn’t understand social media, but still uses it. he’s too stubborn to admit he’s bad handling that.

too lazy to figure out how to cook, but if he tried in the slightest, he would be an amazing cook.

damian is an incredibly fast learner. it amazes the fuck out of bruce how many new things he can learn in just one day. 

he grows to be an actually very kind person, but his snarky remarks and dry humor never disappears.

likes the addams family. what a surprise.

doesn’t get horror/slasher movies. he keeps getting bored and doesn’t react to the jumpscares. jason says he is dead inside, which everyone agreed on.

they don’t know (^^) that damian is making a superhuman effort to not kick someone when the jumpscares occur because this little guy has his senses to the maximum all the time.

can’t be bothered unless someone is being ignorant or trashing about his family. he’s the only one that trashes about his family >:(

texts like a grandpa but at least he knoews what’s happening (most of the times)

like jason, damian has been kicked out of the wayne family chat numerous times.

has an elderly person soul except for when he’s fighting. then he’s a vicious little shit-

plays piano. no, i will not elaborate.

will correct your grammar in a condescending tone of voice.

“don’t patronaze me.” @ everyone.

has general knowledge about a shit ton of things. and since he doesn’t know how to properly socialize (canon) will spill those facts in order to start a conversation during galas.

has threatened the police -- 10/10 will do it again.

damian couldn’t care less about gossip but since he’s a good listener he always ends up knowing the tea about  E V E R Y T H I N G.

cocky bastard. that’s it, that’s all i’m saying.

he has no idea how to handle compliments. it still makes him freeze whenever someone says he’s cute or has pretty eyes.

“no.” (damian’s answer every time someone calls him cute).

believes in soulmates and in love at first sight, not as a superficial concept but as a ‘i’m clicking and mystically attracted to this person rewardless of their looks’.

reads A LOT.

never as much as jason, and also he doesn’t just read like narrative books -- he reads those thick books about how to do things, biographys, and studies about subjects he randomly knows about.

barely sleeps, if he ever does. 

sleep is for the weak™

(^^) proceeds to randomly fall asleep during patrols or family dinners.

acts like a brat but he actually isn’t -- it’s so complicated to explain, i hope someone just gets it.

at 17 he’s taller than dick and almost as tall as jason. suck it, @ everyone who mocked his height.

jon kent is his Best Friend™

(^^) damian told me himself.

he’s very handsome (canon lolz)

no but like, i mean, he will actually be one of those men you think ‘good fucking lord, he’s handsome’

damian thinks selina is cool.

has a lot of anger and frustration inside. it calms him down knowing jason also has problems like those because it makes him feel more... normal.

because normal is something damian would have liked to feel if he hadn’t been conceived to be perfect.

he would love six of crows -- would really like kaz brekker.

secretly enjoys the ya genre, will never admit it out loud.

[anna1306]

Masterlist

Hey, guys!

Since my writings started to gather up attention (which is wow, I didn’t expect it at all, THANK YOU ALL), I decided to create a masterlist, so it would be easier for you and me both to navigate through this

I will try to keep this as updated, as I can, but if anything - tell me c:

The Lost Boys (1987)

Poly!Lost Boys

New in town (GN)

In Santa-Carla appeared new person. They arrived with the Emersons and at first it seems that Lucy is taken, which pisses Max off. What the Boys and their sire don't know, that this is Lucy's sibling. And they know what is going on here, as they are too non-human

Masterlist

Dark interest (GN)

Four friends, who ended school last year, meet a person on the Boardwalk. They all are interested in them, each in their own way. But none of them, not David with his intuition, not Dwayne with the knowledge and guidance of the elders, not Marko from more or less good family, not even Paul with not-standard way if thinking could imagine this person to be a vampire. Who is more interested in them, they could ever imagine

Masterlist

Goblin Ruler s/o (crossover with Labyrinth) (GN) (Part 2)

Alone (GN)

Sweets (GN)

S/o with crutches (GN)

S/o who loves classical music (GN)

Short s/o with cute laughter (GN)

S/o with social anxiety (GN)

Cute, innocent S/o (female) (part 2)

Quiet dancing (GN)

Really short S/o (GN)

Reader, who turns into a demon (platonic) (female)

Ghost s/o (GN) (part 2)

S/o from Addams family (GN) (part 2) (part 3)

Opera s/o (GN)

Southern s/o (GN)

S/o on roller skates (female)

S/o with fear of darkness (GN)

S/o, who got kicked out of the house (GN)

S/o, who's into disco (GN)

Burlesque S/o (GN) (part 2)

Russian S/o (GN)

S/o, who changes styles often (female)

Tall and curvy S/o (female)

Reader, the other kind of vampire (GN) (part 2)

Reader, who plays violin (GN)

Australian Reader (GN)

Reader who protects them (GN)

Nose bleeds (GN)

Witch (GN)

Werewolf Reader with a dog (GN)

Reader falls asleep very fast (GN)

Reader with heterochromia (GN)

Nesting (GN)

Believe (GN)

Funny Reader (female)

Marks (+Michael) (female)

Clumsy S/o (GN)

Cutie s/o (GN)

Rockstar s/o (female)

S/o into knitting/crochet (female)

Movie night (GN)

Nice evening (female)

Very emotional s/o (GN)

S/o, who's shy at first (female)

Violent (female)

Wrong words (GN)

British s/o (GN)

Barista s/o (GN)

Ghoul s/o (GN)

Deception (Female)

S/o with a pet (Female)

S/o like Lil Mariko (GN)

Depressed s/o (GN)

Artifical vampire s/o (GN)

Distance (GN)

Deaf s/o (GN)

Separately

S/o, who needs cuddles (+Michael & Star) (GN)

S/o with piebaldism (GN)

S/o, who saves them with blood (GN)

First feeding of s/o (GN)

Sudden kiss (GN)

S/o turning (GN)

Birthdays (GN)

David

First sight (female)

Pent up feelings (GN)

Denial (Male)

Marko

Darkness (Female) (Part 2)

Thoughts (GN)

Little guy (GN) (Part 2)

Dwayne

Secret admirer (female) (part 2)

Doubts (female) (18+!)

Saviour (GN)

Paul

Doubts (GN)

Friends with benefits (GN)

Michael

Awakening (Male)

Non-pairing

The lost Boys meet their female versions (with s/o)

Out of despair (David x Michael)

Other fandoms

Deal (AHS; Michael Langdon; Male)

Sickness (AHS; Michael Langdon; Female)

Jealousy (DDADDS; Craig Cahn; Male)

Peace and quiet (AOS Star Trek; Mcspirk)

Don't leave me (Teen Wolf; Deucalion x Stiles)

Fiery pet (Descendants; Harry Hook; GN)

Chubby s/o (The Quarry; Nick Furcillo; Female)

[noa-ciharu]

Fyodor/Nikolai (what's their ship name?)

I think fyolai was their ship name, not sure 100%

Who is the cuddler: I can see Nikolai being more of a cuddler, mainly because of his goofy act and demeanor, but Fyodor genuinely likes it more. Also I can see Fyodor getting cold more easily and then Nikolai sees him shivering, pulls him into embrace and starts making jokes and jests. Once he sees how utterly at peace, unresponsive and content Fyodor is he stops with jokes. They just sit like that in silence.

Who makes the bed: bold of you guys to assume Nikolai ever made the bed. Fyodor on other hand, I can see unmade bed being a pet peeve for him. "Why is making the bed such burdensome task for you?" "Because I don't want to! Hehehe" "you're not a clown, you're an entire circus"

Who wakes up first: Fyodor, and instead of going back to sleep or getting up, he picks up a book to read. With other hand he pats and combs through Nikolai's hair, especially the braid part. He'd never admit to having personal preference (especially not to jester like Nikolai) but he genuinely prefers longer hair (and Nikolai in general).

Who has weird music taste: Fyodor listens only to classic music and operas (if you can count that as atypical?) so it's Nikolai once again. Whatever tone pipes his interest he'd hum it for days, regardless of genre or lyrics. Secretly Fyodor enjoys listening to his singing, especially soft and melodic ones when they're alone. More calm and composed side of Nikolai, Fyodor decided he rather likes it.

Who is more protective: hm tought one, since their relationships would be "I fell for one I sworn to kill because they're special in my eye, and I can't allow that". So I'd say Nikolai but in terms of "ah ah we can't have that, I swore I'll be the one to kill you, not that person. So I'd suggest you back off <insert attacker's name>" but it'd be wrapped by intellectualization, clown trickery and allegories and ofc dramatic poses and quotes. What a clown (all pun indeed). God forbid he shows concern and care in clear-cut way.

Who sings in the shower: Nikolai again, just as I mentioned above. However that's also an invitation for Fyodor to join him plus the "ah we can't have you faint in shower due to anemia, you're so lucky to have someone to look after you like I do Dos-kun!". We all know what that one is about, it's not about anemia but all about - okay moving on.

Who cries during movies: Genuinely? Neither. As a drama queen? Nikolai every time there's some tear jerking cliche scene that makes you rool your eyes. At first it faintly annoyed Fyodor as time went on he began thinking of it as cute, endearing even. Just too bad they can never watch anything for real because Nikolai turns it into memes.

Who spends the most while our shopping: Fyodor buys only what he has to, but sometimes gorgeous antique catches his eye and price suddenly doesn't matter anymore. Be it a teacup, a plate, some historical decor, even a pen - it's in the shopping cart. Once he sees white kintsugi filled with gold and it reminds him of Nikolai's clothes colouration as well as his white dead eye with a scar across it (Fyodor isn't sure if it's really blind, Nikolai takes delight into tricks and illusions, asking won't solve anything). For once Nikolai is puzzled as he doesn't know why Fyodor treasures that kintsugi so much, especially when it's Japanese tradition not Russian. It makes Fyodor treasure antique even more. Noa will you ever shut up about half blind characters and kintsugi in your writing. Spoiler:no

Who kisses more roughly: tough question, I'd say Nikolai is more playful and frisky when it comes to making out (and bedroom activities) but when there's UST, then Fyodor kisses back just as forcefully. At those times it's more of a battle (power play huh) than just fleeting kisses and stolen touches. All in all, just as much as they love tenderness and silent whispers of devotion being left unspoken, lingering in the air, intensity and desire have their own fire as well.

Who is more dominant: in terms of sexual activity I'd say same more or less, regardless who's "on top". In terms of mental games and implicit jabs, it's an interesting one: while Fyodor has IQ beyond charts and is more akin to "stereotypical mastermind", Nikolai by no means is far below him, just masks his pereptivness and subtle collecting of weapons to wield to Fyodor's neck by clownish behavior and jests. After all, Fyodor is silently observing and collecting his shares of information as well. And by no means is he underestimating Nikolai due to his jokes and whole demeanor. It's a battle of its own: one of minds a chess game really, allegories and subtle messages, yet never stated so implicitly as it's always left between the lines. That's where that thick as layer of dust tension is created from.

My rating of ship from 1-10: 9/10 for if at some point Nikolai doesn't pin Fyodor to the wall and says "you've looked into my soul, captured it like a little bird and put it into a cage. Retaining my freedom would only be achievable by your demise by my hand" and Fyodor smirks back with "there's no greater wish to soul than it being understood. Except for you I'd add no greater fear as well" - then what's the point

Enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers and so on with UST size of Russia. God bless

Send me a ship and I'll tell you:

[camthesolemnone]

Für Liebe und Leben (For Life And Love) - Heavy And Medic

I recently watched a video in which couples were interviewed about their relationship, except the people were interviewed separately so they could truly express how they felt about their partner without feeling pressured by them. I decided to do a fun similar thing here with Heavy and Medic (specifically Misha and Josef from my AO3 series, but if you’ve never read it, you don’t need context to enjoy this).

If you guys like it enough, I might do another ‘interview’ in the future with a different TF2 pairing. Let’s get on with it!.

Heavy’s Story

Interviewer: Hello and thank you for joining us today! In this interview, we will be asking you seven questions about you and your significant other. Also be aware that your partner will not be seeing or hearing any of this, so feel free to be open and honest with us. To start off, and this doesn’t count towards the question set, what is your name and occupation, sir?

Heavy: I am Misha Baranov, but my teammates refer to me as Heavy because I used to be a Heavy Weapons Guy for mercenary team. I am retired now, and is very nice.

Interviewer: Alright Mr. Baranov. It says here in our records that you partner’s name is Josef Ludwig, correct?

Heavy: Da. I call him Doktor. He used to mend me on battlefield.

Interviewer: What is the current status of your relationship with Josef?

Heavy: Ah! We are married! Not by law, but in deep depths of our hearts. It was small but grand affair: I proposed to him one night while we were dancing with one another, and then we held the ceremony in our backyard--I probably should have mentioned we live in warm cottage in Germany. Anyways, we had family and friends over, and even though Heavy was, heh, a ‘nervous wreck’ as Americans would say, it is still the happiest day of my life. I will never take off this ring, even if Josef demands me to. I love him far too much for that.

Interviewer: When you first met with him, was it a sort of love-at-first-sight scenario, or did your relationship grow steadily?

Heavy: I think it took a while for Doktor to warm up to me, but I definitely pick the former. When I first met him, I was left captivated by his eyes; they are as blue as the vast, deep ocean. He also stood strong and proud. I admired his confidence in facing such a large man like myself, and as our contracts went on, I found myself falling more and more for handsome, crazy doktor. Heheh, he is more stable now, but Heavy misses the excited glint in eye when he was about to preform surgery.

Interviewer: How do the two of you resolve conflicts?

Heavy: We usually sit down and have serious conversations. I am very passionate man, so I work hard not to raise my voice. Josef has harder time with these things, but he also takes time to slow down and apologize if needed. Long hugs and kisses help too. Doktor loves kisses! We have many silly arguments, so when I feel things are not worth fighting over, big smooch can disarm situations easily!

Interviewer: What are some of your favorite things to do with your partner?

Heavy: We enjoy many things together. We own lots of doves, fun to play with and take care of. There is also a mountain behind our home, so we hike up it and stargaze occasionally. Other than that, reading, eating good food, and dancing is always better with Doktor! We share a deep love of classical music too. Sometimes, if we are listening to Russian symphony on record player outside and he is not paying attention, I will put leetle flowers in his hair! Josef hates it, but is very funny and Doktor looks very cute wearing daisies.

Interviewer: If you could go back in time and change one thing about your relationship, what would you modify?

Heavy: That is hard question. Most of time spent with Doktor has been blissful, hmm...da, I know. I would go back and save Doktor from evil Spy during our mission in Turbine! We were so close to winning that match, but Josef got stabbed and--I am sorry. Contract says I can not say anymore.

Interviewer: What would you consider to be the main factors that keep your relationship alive and healthy?

Heavy: It is the leetle things we do each day to show affection to one another. Doktor likes to let Heavy sleep in and then wakes me up with a hot breakfast. He is also very talented gardener, did you know that? He grows pretty flowers and then makes bouquets for me, is very romantic. As for me, whether it is in general life or more...intimate times, I always make sure my husband is aware that he is cherished. Secret reservations at fancy restaurants may be my favorite way to surprise him, but unexpected hugs and poems I put on sticky notes before leaving him for the store are good too. Seeing Josef smile, even just a leetle, lights up my world like nothing else.

Interviewer: Final question, Mr. Baranov. What would you say is the most important part of a relationship?

Heavy: Above all else, the most important thing, no matter the scenario, is to reassure your partner again and again that you love them and that you will always be there for them, even if bad times are ahead. I said to Josef on wedding day that even if death plans to separate us, I will never stop thinking about him. Da, perhaps I have doomed myself to endless suffering in the future, but until then, I will continue to bathe in his light and love. I know you are not going to hear this Josef, but...Ya tyebya lyublyu.

Medic’s Story

Interviewer: ...What is your name and occupation, sir?

Medic: Ich heisse Josef Ludwig, and I am a retired doctor and battlefield medic. My contract prohibits me from giving further details.

Interviewer: Thank you, Mr. Ludwig. Now, it says here your partner’s name is Misha Baranov, correct?

Medic: Jawol.

Interviewer: For our first official question, what is the current status of your relationship with Misha?

Medic: Legally, we are recognized as cohabitating, but if we lived in America, I think then our status would be married by common law. Although personally, I do not believe the status or title associated with the relationship matters. Not much changed between me and Misha after our...eh hem, frankly illegal wedding ceremony, and I’m content that it didn’t. If people ask us about it, we tell them that we are in love, plain and simple. We always have been, and we always will be.

Interviewer:  When you first met with him, was it a sort of love-at-first-sight scenario, or did your relationship grow steadily?

Medic: Ah, well...don’t tell him I said this, but my heart jumped at our first meeting. Before we knew one another, I was married to a woman in Germany for nearly ten years. I would say the love and excitement for each other died after merely four months, so by the time I met Misha, I was dying to find a reason to divorce my wife. I was working in my office one day when suddenly this ginormous bear of a man walks in; I honestly thought he was going to kill me if I walked wrong! But his voice was so compassionate, like we had been lifelong friends, and his huge hand shook mine with the gentleness of a child...Misha could easily break all of my bones if he so wished, yet he holds me as if I’m a precious, fragile flower. Which is not true, I may add!

Interviewer: How do the two of you resolve conflicts?

Medic: Talking things through is the best solution. I will admit, I have said things to Misha in the past that I regret, but I have always tried to find ways to make up for my hurtful words. If we are especially irritated, we may take a nap together to diffuse some of our anger. Misha will probably say this in his interview as well, but we have many teasing fights over tiny, insignificant things. They are always so fun, more of poking at each other’s outrageous ideas than our emotions.

Interviewer: What are some of your favorite things to do with your partner?

Medic: Would it be wrong if I said everything? In all seriousness, without work, most of our days consist of doing chores or spending time with one another, so it’s hard to find something the both of us don’t like doing together. We occasionally talk with our teammates and Misha’s family over the phone, but I’ve been considering getting a job at the Krater [Krater is the village Heavy and Medic reside in] botanical gardens. Not to say that I don’t want to spend time with meine kushelbar, but as a doctor, I can say with confidence that separation in moderation can be emotionally and mentally healthy for couples. Erm, what was the question again?

Interviewer: If you could go back in time and change one thing about your relationship, what would you modify?

Medic: Well, you see, I hid from Misha at the start of our relationship that I was married. When he found out, he was absolutely furious and nearly broke up with me at first. We managed to make it through that incident, but if I could go back and time and convince my younger self to just tell him the truth, we could have avoided a large fight like that.

Interviewer: What would you consider to be the main factors that keep your relationship alive and healthy?

Medic: I would definitely say it has been our honesty and loyalty towards one another. Aside from the incident I just mentioned, I have never lied to Misha. Well...maybe I fibbed a little about what happened to his steak leftovers after our dinner date on Valentines Day. Hah, my arsch hurt so bad the next morning--OH! Yes, loyalty! Misha has always stuck by my side: on the battlefield, during my divorce, whenever I have a sudden mood swing...As cliche as it sounds, I honestly can’t imagine a future without him.

Interviewer: Final question, Mr. Ludwig. What would you say is the most important part of a relationship?

Medic: Some of my colleagues have very differing opinions from mine, but I believe that in any relationship, it is important to be honest and true not just to the other person, but to yourself. It is so easy to force yourself into staying with someone you do not care for, so you must follow what your heart yearns for. I also advise all new couples and people who are not in relationships, hölle, even people who have been in long-term relationships to be mindful of how your partner is treating you! If they are manipulative, it becomes even harder to believe in yourself and to get help. Find someone who truly loves you for you and someone you can trust in your darkest hour. Aii...I’ve really become a sentimental old man, haven’t I? Hahaha, look what you’ve done to me, Misha!

[vinnival]

It's me again. May I get Auditor x Reader. Where is the reader on the side of Hank, Deimos, Sanford. (Damn, it seems to me too many requests from me, I hope you are not tired. I just can not read anyone else but you)

IM SO HONORED AHHHH JEJEFHFH I LOVE UUU WIEJWHWH also I think its super cool that ur russian. Russians are so intimidating at first but then they're actually cool and fun to be around !!!! Enjoy <3

This is a complete 180 from last night's fic KSHSJS

Temperament

You were with the main 3 when they went on the mission to Auditor's warehouse, once again attempting to take him down

It was here where you first met him

You helped out just fine, finally being able to push to where Auditor's top protectors were (along with him)

He noticed you immediately

"Ah, so a new one has joined their side?"

You glared up at him while the MAGs standing a ways ahead of you were getting ready to attack

"What does it matter?"

"Hush, hush, I'm simply noting a new- rather interesting- strong enemy."

He called you interesting ooooo ooo oooooooo

Every confrontation after this involved him smoothly sliding flirtatious lines towards you

Deimos was apalled

"So he finds you attractive specifically? Aww :("

"How the fuck did you say that sad face out loud"

He's tried to get you to join his side, offering many different alluring things to you to win your devotion

You don't give in

This makes him more interested in you

Its a constant cycle

He actually had the chance to kill you once, you were literally in his clutches, staring directly into his eyes

When you once again refused to take up his offer, he could've just stolen you and locked you up, but he released you

You kept wondering why he did that but then realized

Does he LIKE this enemy dynamic between you two??

You're always stuck thinking about him and Hank is annoyed about it

He signed to you one day, "Get over him, it's like you're in love."

You nearly fell out of your seat, "IN LOVE?! NO"

You can tell he rolled his eyes, but he left you alone

He managed to catch you off guard another time, but he dragged you to a different area in the warehouse much to your dismay

"Finally gonna hold me hostage, huh?" You snarked, they yanked you back on to your feet immediately after

You didn't know where from- but CLASSICAL MUSIC started playing from somewhere in the expansive room

You nearly groaned

This bitch gonna WALTZ WITH YOU?

He did.

You just went with it because you eyed a couple of MAGs standing in the corners of the room

Auditor constantly threw compliments at you

You tried sneering at them, throwing rude remarks right back at him

But eventually you just gave up

They let you go once again and you returned to base, dazed

Everyone was worried about you

Something in you started to convince you to join Auditor but you'd never tell the other 3

;)

[snowgoldwaylon]

A Night At The Opera - Grigori Weaver X Reader

Performing is what you loved to do best. Meeting a young soldier is just what you always dreamed off, but while you were on tour for one of the most iconic operas ever written. And you, the main character.

TW: None!

"Y/N! You are live in 10 minutes!" The producer called, as he walked past your mirror.

You glanced in the mirror and just caught the last glimpse of him leaving the room. You turned to look back at yourself in the large vanity, the lights illuminating your current hair style which stood pretty tall.

You were getting final touches to hair and makeup, and it just so happens for this opera, you were the main star. And as hollywood rules states, go big or go home. So you chose the classic big, bouncy curly hair with curled sideburns to give it spice.

It was elegant, you had little glass flowers put all through it so it would glitter and reflect off the stage lights. You wore a stunning ballgown dress, with large bell sleeves. And for the finishing touch which the hair stylist was putting in your hair?

An authentic, diamond and gold lined tiara, which had a long, lace veil attached to the back. You simply smiled at how you looked in this moment. A makeup artist came over and touched up some spots and re-applied the ruby red lipstick you had on.

As soon as they finished, you looked over yourself and smiled. You pushed a falling glass piece back into place, applied hairspray, and got up. You soothed the dress out and turned to the two who had made you look stunning.

"Thank you both, you have made my dream look come true! I think I'm going to permanently hire both of you to tour with me!" You exclaimed, giving a hand.

They both nodded graciously, and bowed with a humble 'thank you' before you were pulled away by someone.

"Okay Y/N, you will be live in one minute. You know the cues, good luck out there!" The stage coach yelled, pulling you to the side stage.

You watched as the young man who played Pollione finish his number, Meco all'altar di Venere. After the dramatic change of scene and the curtain close, the audience clapped loudly. The moment you trained for was finally here!

You watched as Klaus, the owner of the gorgeous, all original opera house approached you. You smiled, and he gave you his hand.

"Miss Y/N, do you look stunning! I must tell you before you go on, we have special guests in the audience. Not to make you worried or such, but these guests are returning soldiers from the war. One in particular who you might have the chance to meet after, is named Grigori Weaver. He loves operas, and even funded this show to go on!" Klaus exclaimed.

You were taken back by the odd sounding name. Grigori? Is that Russian? you asked yourself. You smiled at Klaus, and gave a simple nod.

"Yes Klaus, I understand. Thank you for the information. I do hope to meet him afterwards!" You said.

The stage hand tapped your shoulder, as you saw two men heading towards the curtain strings.

"I must go, Klaus. Thank you!" You said, before taking your spot center stage, right up against the curtain.

The choir filed in behind you on the risers as you stood, singing small voice warmups before it was go time. You felt nervous, but excited. Your heart raced with joy and adrenaline as the final words of the scene were spoken.

That was the cue! With the final dialouge spoken, the curtains opened. The lights suddenly filled your vision, along with the large crowd in the huge theather. A small, soft smile was written on your flawless features as the orchestra began the song.

The flute soloist filled the room with warm, beautiful, contrasted music with crescendos and decrescendos. It sounded almost ominous, but it was beautiful. You stood in the pose as practiced before.

The bell sleeves hung beautiful as you would slightly lift your arms with the music. The violins cued your very first note, and you gave it your all.

"Casta Diva, che inargenti

queste sacre antiche piante,

a noi volgi il bel sembiante

senza nube e senza vel."

You maintained a professional and elegant posture as you acted the part of your character, Norma. You swayed lightly with the music, and smiled as the choir behind you hit the correct notes, pitch, and phrases behind you. You glanced out over the crowd, and right away spotted a man wearing an eye patch in the VIP section.

Suddenly, you felt the urge to finish this aria right, and with ease. Your next cue happened, and you let the bell sleeves hang beside you.

"Tempra, o Diva,

tempra tu de’ cori ardenti

tempra ancora lo zelo audace,

spargi in terra quella pace

che regnar tu fai nel ciel.

 

Fine al rito

e il sacro bosco

sia disgombro dai profani.

Quando il Nume irato e fosco,

chiegga il sangue dei Romani.

Dal Druidico delubro

La mia voce tuonerà.

Cadrà; punirlo io posso.

Ma, punirlo, il cor non sa.

 

Ah! bello a me ritorna

Del fido amor primiero;

E contro il mondo intiero

difesa a te sarò.

Ah! bello a me ritorna

Del raggio tuo sereno,

e vita nel tuo seno,

e patria e cielo avrò.

Ah, riedi ancora qual eri allora,

quando il cor ti diedi allora,

ah, riedi a me."

With the last note of the orchestra, ending right after your vocals pitched down, you struck an elegant pose. The diamond of the tiara made you sparkle as you soaked up all limelight.

Cheers roared and echoed through the halls and walkways of the opera house. Whistles and flowers were thrown as the curtains began to slowly close. You glanced towards the man with the eyepatch again, and saw him standing up.

He joined everyone in a standing ovation because your pure and effortless talent had shaken them to the core, but in a good way. The heat of the lights brought you to a pant, and small specks of sweat beaded at the line of your hair.

The curtains finally came to a close and you released the pose. You quickly made the way backstage to cool off, so you wouldn't look rough for the finishing act.

Producers swarmed you, makeup artists, and hair artists also swarmed you like buzards so they could doll you back up. You were to keep the hairstyle for the final act, but change the dress for a Victoria era wedding dress.

TIMESKIP, END OF THE OPERA

You gathered at the entrance along with the cast to say goodbye to guests as they exited the opera house. This gave guests a chance to get autographs, pictures, and words to say. You were of course, the first at the door for the order of namesake.

Soon, the hundreds of people came, and shook hands with everyone. You were signing many autographs for many people, and snapping many pictures for all. And you were very determined to make sure everyone who asked had one.

Soon, the end of the line came, and out came the man in question. The handsome, dark haired man with the eye patch and a handsome pair of dress blues. He made conversation with everyone, and you even noticed Klaus right beside him, talking.

They came up to you last, and the rest of the cast exited to get cleaned up. You smiled as they approached, and held out your hand.

"Evening, Miss Norma. You did fantastic. My name is Grigori Weaver, could I have yours please?" He asked kindly, taking your hand and giving it a small kiss.

You blushed as Grigori let your hand go, and turned to Klaus.

"This is the gentleman who sponsored the whole show!"

"Ah yes, Grigori. Nice too meet you. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Or as you know, Norma. On behalf on all my cast and producers, coaches, and myself, we thank you. This production would have been lost if it wasn't for you kind donation." You said.

He smiled at you, and only you. He couldn't get over how flawless and just how polite you were.

"Well, as proven tonight, Miss Y/L/N, it's my pleasure. I do hope you stick around for more performances these coming years, da?" He asked.

"Well of course! I plan on staying in the opera for many years while I attend school and look for my dream job." You said.

Grigori looked at his watched, and slipped his hat on. While he fixed the collar on his jacket, he fished inside his coat for something. He pulled out a brilliant, luscious red rose and handed to you. You gratefully accepted as a blushed creeped across you.

"I must be going now, my job starts soon. But, for you, Norma. Maybe possibly I could come see you perform again this coming week?" He asked.

"Of course you can, I'd love that." You said, with a smile.

"Off I go then. Have a wonderful evening, both of you!" He said as he exited the opera house.

You watched him walk to his very luxurious car, and he looked back. You waved and turned on your heel, walking back with Klaus.

"I think you just got the VIP to fall in love with you, nyet?" He asked.

"Klaus, do not be so foolish! He was simply being nice." You said, walking up the first flight of stairs.

"But, he did say he'd be returing for the other shows. If he does, then that will prove my point for sure!" Klaus said.

You came to your dressing room, and wished Klaus a good evening as you closed the door. You set the red rose in a vase on your vanity and began carefully taking out the pieces from your hair. You couldn't stop thinking about with Grigori had said.

And over the rest of the following days the opera showed, Grigori kept his promise. Soonz the vase was overflowing with roses. And after one performance, you found yourself at one of the nicest restaurants with Grigori.

That was one hell of a night at the opera.

Taglist: @smokeywhalee @wennbergbabe @justagenderfluidstuff @goawaypleasecryingemoji @kazazure @kapanovangswife @xundeadqueenx @direwolfspostsrandomshit

[mrdrzezstchkowitzatyourservice]

I have just made a review of the Mind Electric and its demos, so I though I would review Hawaii: Part II in its whole! I will be reviewing all eleven songs, so enjoy! :)

1: Introduction to the Snow: Ah, the first 30 seconds are pure bliss! This one really makes you want to sing along to it. It is very calm and serene. I like it very much. If only it were longer!

2: Isle Unto Thyself: Why isn’t this part of the first song, haha? It is energetic and so pretty. The reverb really adds something special!

3: Black Rainbows: This one is fun! I love the deep voices chanting in Hawaiian in the background. It really makes you think of Hawaii and is very fun to dance to!

4: White Ball: What an amazing love song! I absolutely love the strings in this one. It is beautiful and I am a bit mad that this is not played on the radio. I also love the accordion. As a player myself, it is a nice touch!

5: Murders: The plot gets spicy here! The ominous piano really helps communicate the twist in the tale. It almost reminds me of Russian classical music, being very loud at some times and very quiet at others. I love the bridge, too! This is a great song!

6: Space Station Level Seven (I cannot write in Japanese sorry): This one is very interesting, being in Japanese and all. But It sounds great and so so happy and it makes you want to smile! The French part is also very good.

7: The Mind Electric: I have already covered this song and its demos in another post but this is the song that introduced me to the album. It is so catchy! I love the backwards part and weird voice effects. It really ads character to the song!

8: Labyrinth: Probably my second favorite in the album! A rap song was certainly unexpected, but not unwelcome. Did you know that this song was originally a part of the Mind Electric? There was also a video game of it up for a while! Very good song! It gets me tapping my toes!

9: Time Machine: This song has lots of voice effects, which is certainly creative. I always sing along to the chorus. It is very catchy, and is one of my favorites!

10: Stranded Lullaby: Oh this one is so sad :(. It is very calm and quiet compared to the last few songs. The character sounds so hopeless and lost in this one. It makes me want to cry. It is still a very beautiful song in every way. I love it very very much.

11: Dream Sweet in Sea Major: The requiem of the album! I very much like how they put a part of all of the songs together to create this masterpiece. I can see that because of this song the album is mistaken as a Christmas album haha. This song is very beautiful, and it sends us off gently. I really love it and it is a perfect way to end the album!

I also must mention the amazing story that this album tells. I might make another post soon about my theory on it, but the story is like a Shakespearian tradgedy set to music. It is so heartwarming at the beginning and sad and the end. This is one of the best examples of musical story telling out there. It is really amazing!

What are your thoughts on this album?

[quizzyisdone]

Guilty Part V | Female Bell! Reader x Adler

A/N: So I said before this is full of clichés, and it absolutely is. This was an utter blast to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I think it tops part four in terms of my favorite chapter. All italics is dialogue spoken in Russian (1900+ word count)

Warnings: Strong language

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Nothing Else Mattered

Prague, Czechoslovakia

2300

August 31st, 1984

You reveled in the summer breeze as it glazed gently over your smooth, revealed skin, your loose hair flowing gently in the wind. The dress was a simple black, was elegant in nature and fitted you perfectly Adler, on the other hand, looked uncomfortably warm donning his Soviet uniform. 

“How do I look?” You asked Adler, fixing your makeup in a handheld mirror one last time.

“I was under the assumption that you didn’t give two shits what I thought?” He scoffed.

“Answer the question, asshole.” You rolled your eyes at his pettiness, even despite the fact that he had always tolerated yours.

“You look fine.” That was a lie in Adler’s mind. You looked absolutely beautiful, but his pride kept him from admitting that. “What about me?”

“Stuffy. But you look good in a uniform, even if it is Soviet.” You quipped with a grin. He suppressed the smile and nodded in thanks. Adler extended his arm, which you took. Part of the cover of being a married couple, of course. But it felt strangely natural as you leaned your body closer to him, smelling the scent of his familiar cologne, the same he had worn when he had kissed you so fervently in East Berlin.

“Didn’t expect a Soviet party to be so...fancy.” You remarked, gazing at the hotel's beautiful lobby, which was furnished in lavish couches and a lush rug laid on a marble floor, which your heels gave a satisfying clack with every step you took. The centerpiece of the lobby was a large, crystal grand chandelier that illuminated the room. 

“This man is a government tool. Of course they’d set him up in such a nice place.” He whispered. “Come, let’s go greet Ivanov.”

The ballroom was also a sight to behold, servers scurrying back and forth, offering samplings of food and drinks. Tall stained glass windows draped in velvet stood proudly among the people while soft classical music was playing over their chattering. You smiled in awe as you beheld the sight. 

Unbeknownst to you, Adler’s gaze had been lingering, watching you, with eyes more adoring than he’d care to admit. He smiled sadly, knowing those feelings might never be returned. It was a rare moment of tenderness, one that was interrupted as a Russian man called to Adler.

“Ah! My comrade, Alexei Rabinovich!” He shouted heartily, taking Adler’s hand in a firm shake.

“Mr. Ivanov, a pleasure, a pleasure! Might I introduce you to my wife, Vladlena?” He directed Ivanov to you, who beamed at your gorgeous figure.

“I must admit, I’ve heard rumors that Alexei married a rather pretty woman, but they do you no justice. You are radiant, my dear.” Ivanov complimented as he took the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it gently in greeting. “I trust you are enjoying the party? I hear it’s your first time here.”

“Very much, Mr. Ivanov. This place is beautiful, perhaps it even rivals Lubyanka before that awful disaster three years ago.” You remarked, glancing to Adler as he smiled knowingly.

“Ah it’s a shame that was. But do not concern yourself, it is a ball! I’m sure my wife would love to meet you while I get to know my rising star a bit better, yes?” 

“Of course.” You lowered your head in respect, detaching yourself from Adler’s shoulder, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Playing the part of an adoring couple was always easy with him. “Try not to get into trouble, my love.” You purred.

You left before he could respond, a blush rising in your cheeks. You cursed yourself, those feelings from all those years ago couldn’t rear their ugly head again. You couldn’t let yourself fall, not again. But your mind still wandered to the tenderness, the utter kindness he showed you in the car on the way here, how uncharacteristically gentle he was with you, like one wrong word or touch could make you shatter into a thousand pieces. 

You managed to find Ivanov’s wife making light conversation with a few other women. She beamed as she greeted you. If anything, Russians were welcoming to one of their own. 

“Ah, Vladlena, yes?” You nodded and smiled. “I’ve heard so much of you! A new face is always welcome here, dear.” According to intel, her name was Katya Ivanov. She offered you a glass of champagne, which you gladly took to clear your thoughts.

“I’ve heard a bit about you too, Mrs. Ivanov.” You lied, sipping the champagne. Katya placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as she directed you to the group she was conversing with when she first noticed you.

“Everyone, please meet our newest friend, Mrs. Vladena Rabinovich.” She introduced you, as the others in the group all smiled in greeting. 

“It has been awhile since I’ve seen a fresh face here, oh it does become quite boring.” One of them spoke, the woman was older, gray hair sprinkled in her hair that was tied in a simple knot. 

You engaged in rather boring conversation for a little while, nodding silently with a courteous smile as they spoke on matters you had no idea about. After awhile, you looked back at Adler, who, almost on cue, glanced back at you. He nodded and you listened to his silent order to excuse yourself.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I do believe my husband beckons.” 

“Of course, the real music is about to start. I hope you enjoy yourself.” Katya said as you departed. You had no idea what she was talking about, and a pit dropped into your stomach. Thoughts of them finding out who you were, shooting you and Adler to make an example raced through your head. You downed the rest of the champagne in a manner that would make the Queen gasp in shock at the uncouth nature of such an act. If you were to die, at least you’d be a bit tipsy.

You returned to Adler, a distraught expression only he’d be able to read. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you took the moment to whisper in his ear.

“His wife said the real music was about to start. Do you know anything about that?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that. We’re at a ball, Bell. What do you think people do at balls, hm?” He smirked. “Go put your glass down, it'll give us a good opportunity to talk.” Adler ordered, you did as you were told, handing your now empty glass to a butler. When you turned around, loud, classical music began playing from a band in the corner. Adler offered his hand to you, a nonverbal cue. 

You took it, smiling to keep up the cover. He snaked his arms around your waist, his hand joined to yours. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and you felt heat rising up in his cheeks.

“You’re blushing.”

“Part of the cover.” You smirked, and he laughed heartily, harking back to the nightclub in East Berlin. This was the first time you had ever seen him laugh at something wholeheartedly, normally you could only ever get a chuckle or a smirk. “But, uh, I need to admit something.” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“I don’t know how to dance.” You admitted as you lowered your head down in embarrassment, smiling as you looked back up into his baby blue orbs. How the fuck he could make you act like this was beyond you.

“I’ll show you.” He said softly as he bit his lip, a bit more affectionate than intended, a soft, barely noticeable grin. “You have the form right. Just sway back and forth with me, try to keep your steps in line with mine, and twirl when I raise this arm.” He wriggled the arm which held your hand. “Whatever you do, don’t step on my toes.”

“Okay.” You nodded. He pulled you close and you tried to keep in line with him. You were able to smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with cigarettes, it was the same cologne he’d been wearing for as long as you’ve known him.

“So, I was able to loosen Ivanov’s lips. Man’s a lightweight.” Of course, any sweet moment between you two was always interrupted with some mortal threat to the free world.

“What’d you find out?” You looked a bit disappointed.

“Chin up. Keep that pretty little smile on your face.” He flirted, a bit shamelessly. You took the opportunity to flirt back, forgetting everything that has ever happened between the two of you. It was like meeting him all over again. In that moment, nothing he’d ever done to you or you’d done to him mattered.

“You think my smile is pretty?” You shot back, the grin returning to your face. He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

“Anyway,” He avoided the question. That didn’t stop you. “I was able to ask him about Perseus, and he was able to tell me a bit about him, if a bit reluctantly. The intel from the body at the mall checks out, there’s a room on the second floor where he conducts meetings with Perseus himself, and he keeps a bunch of stuff in there. Should be an intel goldmine.”

“You never answered the question.” This newfound wave of confidence left both you and Adler dumbfounded.

“It’s hardly a question, but I think you know the answer to that.” He replied, smooth as ever, hiding his initial shock. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer. He raised his arm and you took the cue to spin. “When the song’s over, I want you to excuse yours- Shit!” Adler cursed through gritted teeth, and you realized you had accidentally stepped on his toes with the heel of your shoe.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Adler I-I” You rambled, sudden fear of him making its way back to you.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. “That fucking hurt though.” Adler chuckled as he winced from the pain. “But when the music is done, which I expect it will be in about two minutes, I need you to excuse yourself and find the room, grab what you can, and get out. It’s restricted access so get creative.” You nodded your head.

“You know what, Russell?” His name uttered from your lips brought a beaming grin to his face.

“What?” He cocked his head. Everything outside of this moment had been forgotten, nothing else mattered.

“We haven’t argued or tried to kill each other.”

“Yet. The night’s still young.” He almost let your real name fall from tongue, but stopped himself, unknowing as to whether or not you’d appreciate it. He had not cared for the wishes or wants of someone since before he even met you. God, when did he become such a sap. 

You laughed. “True enough, I suppose.” 

A sudden wave of guilt washed over Adler. This didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel fair to you. He deserved your anger, your complete and utter malice. He didn’t deserve this tender moment. What did he do right to deserve that smile, that laugh that dripped like honey, smooth and sweet. In spite of that, he allowed himself one more indulgence, one more smile before you’d go back to hating him.

“I lied earlier, when I said you looked fine.” Your eyes dropped to the floor, waves of insecurity washed over you, expecting some insult. “You look gorgeous.” And with that simple compliment, your face lit up. Your eyes sparkled in the light of the grand chandelier. A simple thank you was all you could mutter.

And with that, the music had stopped, and that sweet moment faded. Adler released his hold on you, and nodded.

“Go get ‘em.”

------

Another A/N: If you don’t understand the reference to the nightclub in East Berlin I mentioned in the chapter, you can find that here

[love-rats]

i live at the end of a five-and-a-half minute hallway

hey. my name's zaphod. my pronouns are they/it, though the occasional she and he are cool too.

things you might like to know about me:

- i'm 19, i'm a student and i study english literature and language. my favourite books are the idiot by dostoevsky and middlemarch by george eliot. i love classic literature, my interests ranging from beowulf to virginia woolf, baby! (seriously though, other than my degree, i love russian lit and athenian tragedy). oh, woe is me, who am i when i am not consuming media?

- i love unlikable, depressed female characters, my two faves being (unsurprisingly, given my two favourite books) nastasya filippovna from dostoevsky's the idiot and rosamond vincy from eliot's middlemarch.

- my hobbies include rpgs (yes, that includes larping), writing, playing guitar (at a beginner level, but hey, we've all gotta start somewhere, right?) and a little bit of painting!

- i like robots, retro science fiction, and vampires. i enjoy cybergoth aesthetics, but i also enjoy vampiric romantic goth aesthetics, so this kind of meshes in my mind as a cyberpunk robot vampire that sucks blood from a futuristic mask. don't ask me of the logistics of this: it's not like "aesthetics" matter much anyway, i just think she's neat.

- MUSIC. i mainly like electronica and dance music, as well as some experimental ambient stuff. (oh, they're so underground, you've probably never heard of them. yknow, aphex twin?). i also like post punk and goth rock.

- oh shit, this is supposed to be a fandom blog? ah well, i post a lot about the six idiots, star trek and homestuck. i am currently playing my way through disco elysium.

ao3: pixelatedeyes

discord: zaphodisdead (though please dm me before sending me a friend request!)