Andrey Kneller, The Translator Of My Poems: Selected Poetry Of Marina Tsvetaeva [bilingual Edition] 

wooooooooooooooooooooooow

This is so beautiful and took a lot of patience!!! ✊

that's my HAROLDDD!!!!!!!!!

HARRYWEEN. New York City, NY. I

Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care

Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck

bisexual bitch!

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

Hi! My mum and I had a conversation in the car where I mentioned how funny I found this bit, because I had read it as Anathema thinking that she had, in fact, just been run over by a very campy gay couple, and a campy gay couple wouldn't harm her. But my mum read this as Anathema, who she thought could feel that Crowley was a demon, realizing that she was also in the presence of an angel, and an angel wouldn't harm her. And I guess I just wanted to know which was the intended message?

The version that Terry and I had in mind when we wrote it was the former.

(wrote this because i wanted to; wrote this because i think sirius would know when harry was missing his parents before harry knew himself)

--

Sirius had long since made himself comfortable on the grass, legs crossed and leaning backward onto his arms. Harry hadn't. Harry had been slouched, with his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans since they had arrived, his almost seventeen-year-old pitching a colossal fit when he realized where they were.

No, fuck you, Sirius!

Had been shouted so loud in a public place, Sirius nearly pulled the whole thing to drag his godson back home and have a conversation. Mr. Potter had always told Sirius that foul language was never warranted, but Sirius vividly remembered what it was like to be a teenager who felt they had no control; who felt out of control; who felt every last thing in the world was unfair and thought that some situations...definitely warranted a swear word or two.

This might have been one of them for Harry. Ambushed and brought to his parent's gravesite.

Harry was allowed to be angry at Sirius for this, but Sirius was allowed to sometimes play the I'm your godfather and I know it doesn't seem like it now but you'll thank me for this later card that he held in his hand. An ace up his sleeve he rarely revealed, but the days leading up to Harry's seventeenth felt like the time to. Sirius hoped this would be one of the times when Harry came to thank him an hour later, instead of years.

"Can we go?" he asked.

"No."

"This is stupid. It's a perfectly good day and you're having us waste it at a stupid gravesite. I could be playing Quidditch! I could...I could be meeting with my friends, I coul--"

"Did you have plans?"

"Well, no, but it's the principle of the thing, and now you're--this is kidnapping."

"You're free to go, Harry."

"You drove me here!"

Sirius nodded, "I did, but I'm not holding you, hostage," he brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the summer sun, "There's a bunch of shops...I'm sure one has a floo. You're welcome to go take a walk and figure it out...you are almost seventeen after all."

Harry scowled, "This is stupid."

"It can be stupid," Sirius shrugged, and turned his attention back to the decorated tombstone, with his best friend's name written across it. There were fresh flowers there, though less than when Sirius had first started visiting. Sirius wondered if there would come a day, 5, 10 13 years down the line where he'd come to pay James and Lily a visit and find nothing left behind and find their grave growing moss from visitors. He wondered how the names would look when the stone started to decay, fossilize, crack and turn. Do people still exist if no one is around to remember them? Would Sirius have to leave a will behind that stipulated every generation visit James and Lily just so they wouldn't be forgotten or be diminished to names whispered in passing like a rumor in a hallway of a boarding school?

"It's stupid."

"Yeah." Sirius patted the spot next to him on the ground for the fourth time since they had arrived, hoping this time Harry decided to join him. There was an eye roll and a final bit of protest, but Harry sat down, sitting cross-legged, and immediately started picking at the grass.

"Why are we doing this?"

"Thought you might have something to say."

"Well, I don't. It's s--"

"Stupid. I know," Sirius nodded, and sat up, bending his knees so he could rest his elbows on them. He took a breath. Harry wasn't wrong. Sirius felt foolish every time he did this and had for years. The first words were the hardest--as if those were the ones James was listening most for. If they were good enough, wise enough, funny enough maybe James would appear again. Like the magic words. A curse that could be broken with, "Hey, mate."

Harry snorted.

"Hey, mate. Lils. It's...me. Sirius," Sirius started, "I know I look a little different these days, but...it's me, I promise. We...live in a world where we don't have to prove our identities to other people now. When I open the door--"

"You still put your wand in people's faces if they come to the door," Harry interjected

"Fine, when Remus opens the door, we don't have to play a quick game of twenty questions. It's...nice, sort of. I haven't been able to shake my paranoia." Sirius said, watching as Harry's hands continued to pick at the grass, making a tiny pile next to a white trainer. "Been missing you lately, I think," Sirius continued, "...More than usual. I did the stupidest thing the other day--"

"Talk to a gravestone?" muttered Harry

"--I went to a bakery, there's a new one in Diagon Alley, this little witch makes tea cakes and I got a bunch to try, and I put an almond one in there. Didn't even realize until I brought the box home and Remus asked me why...." Sirius trailed off, tapping his fingers against the bone in his elbow.

Why did you get an almond one? We all hate almonds.

It's for James

Sirius had said it without even thinking. Done it without even second-guessing.

"Sixteen years and I'm still thinking of you...all the time. And your kid? Fucking spectacular. He's seventeen in a few days, and you know that means I can finally drop the whole parenting thing..." Sirius said lightly, "Boot him out and the like...tell him to get a job or something."

"Hey," Harry said, though it didn't have any of the bite from earlier, "He's joking. He told me last week that I had to stay at the house until I was forty-two, at least."

"Ah well, that was before you told me to go fuck myself."

"I didn't say that, I just said fuck you, if you're going to tell Mum and Dad that I was a brat at least make it accurate..."

"So sorry, babe," Sirius said, "Anyway...I love you both, and...supposed I just wanted to let you know that we're all doing alright, even if we miss you." Sirius looked at Harry, inclining his head as means of encouragement.

"I dunno what to say."

"I didn't exactly prepare a speech."

"I..."

"How about I give you some privacy."

"No," Harry's hand shot out to grab Sirius's own, immediately, and didn't move it, "Don't...don't go."

"I'm right here."

Harry looked at the tombstone, studying the flowers and the stone and the grass growing happily around it, "Hi Mum...Hi Dad. It's...it's me, Harry. I...think I have more hair from when you last saw me. That's what Moony says anyway...and...I'm...this is stupid. And I'm sorry I'm saying it's stupid, but Sirius always tells me just...to call something what it is and it helps make it better so I'm calling it stupid...because it is stupid that I'm about to turn seventeen and I have to sit on the ground, in the mud, on a hot fucking summers day to talk to my parents instead of getting to walk down the hall."

Once Harry started he couldn't stop.

Once Harry said I miss you, memories from birthdays gone by surfaced; his OWL exams, his best friends, his ex-boyfriend who hung the moon for him and then broke his heart, his current boyfriend who put the moon back together and gave it to him in a ceramic box labeled handle with care. The three of them came to visit once a year, but usually, Harry was too overwhelmed with tears to say much; they had come Harry's fifth year just after Christmas and it had been the same, though Harry had wanted to stay for hours, Sirius certain they were all going to catch their death in the cold despite the warming charms continuously being put up. This time was different though, and Sirius just sat and listened as his godson, his kid, poured every last thought he had, every last I love you onto his parent's gravestone, not bothering to catch the falling tears.

That's how gardens grow.

Sirius wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him into his chest as he finished, teenage body wracked with sobs and emotion that hadn't been released until that moment.

"This is stupid," Harry sniffed, making a point to wipe his face on Sirius's t-shirt.

"It can be stupid."

"Missing people is stupid."

"The stupidest thing in the world, love."

James & Lily.

Song: [x]

my heart just got fucked-

at the end of the day it's not that you hate your job - actually, you like working, you like routine, you like feeling like an adult - it's that any time you fuck anything up, you feel like you're fucking dying.

because you could be actually fucking dying. because if one day you wake up and you misunderstood something - you could lose your job, and nobody is hiring, and nobody is paying, and nobody takes people like you, and that job you want hasn't gotten back to you. and what exactly are you going to do without insurance? good luck with those meds. you should have thought of that before being a person.

so it's not just that you forgot to CC someone on an email, it's that if you don't have this job, you can't afford rent. it's not that you misread a comment, it's that if you get fired, you will be in massive amounts of unpayable debt. it's not that you are bad at your job, but here are the stakes as they have been decided for you: be perfect or fucking die. like, literally, die. that is how much safety net you have: none.

it's not burnout, technically. but you literally just had two typos in your work, and you're already picturing the ending. you want to throw up & curl up & make it all go away. it is two typos. if he decides he is mad at you, you lose literally everything.

your mom says that you seem stressed. the thing is that you have never known a job that isn't stressful. welcome to capitalism. there is no other road, only this one. what the fuck is a career. you come here, and we hold your life against the barrel of a gun, and somewhere someone is spinning the chamber and pulling. eventually the bullet will come.

you live in a mugging. your boss owns three cars and has four kids. you worry about having enough to feed your dog. good luck. beg for forgiveness. CC the right people next time and be grateful, kid. somebody has it worse than you. someone, probably, has it worse than you. so what if you can't sleep or eat or focus. your work chat sound literally makes you panic. you had to change the sounds of computer notifications so you'd stop having such an upset stomach.

welcome to the real world! the rat race! the dog eat dog circus!

your doctor studies the results and frowns at you. "it's bad for your heart," she says. "try to reduce your levels of stress."

Goncharov score masterpost

I want to make a post to keep track of all the Goncharov score that’s been uploaded to tumblr, so I will link to all the one’s I’ve found so far and update with any new ones that come up (if you know any I’m missing please share the link!)

Main Theme uploaded by @caramiaaddio

Main Theme (End Titles) uploaded by @if-only-angels-could-prevail

Main Theme (Reprise) uploaded by @raccoonfink

The Bridge Breaks uploaded by @nicewizard

The Clocktower uploaded by @dungeonmastersconsortium

Farewell Scene uploaded by @levuna (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

Tempus Fugit - “Clock Theme” uploaded by @trupowieszcz  (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

Goncharov Theme in Minor uploaded by @mapplejuice  (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

Katya’s Leitmotif (Vinyl Rip) uploaded by @unscharf-an-den-raendern  (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

Andrey’s Theme uploaded by @the-frosty-mac (pointed out to me by @muzic4sewerratz , thank you!)

It Is True (Extract) uploaded by @hex-of-els (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

Memories Of Water - Goncharov Soundtrack uploaded by @rismrus (pointed out to me by themself– please do feel free to toot your own horn!)

Katya’s Sonata uploaded by @arcanistvysoren

“For My Love” Andrey’s Serenade uploaded by @shits-getting-weird (pointed out to me by themself)

Stolen Time uploaded by @avatar-of-the-vast (I lost track of who pointed this one out to me I’m sorry but my notifications at the moment are A Lot, so thank you to whoever it was and I’m sorry I don’t know who you were)

Sharing A Dance uploaded by @the-frosty-mac (pointed out to me by themself)

In The Boathouse uploaded by @madame-karenina

What Was And Will Be uploaded by @piano-flute​

Overture on the Clocktower uploaded by @dead-minecraft-fandoms​ (pointed out to me by @mccoppinscrapyard, thank you!)

Privyet Goncharov uploaded by @rismrus (pointed out to me by themself)

Goncharov’s Gun uploaded by @netcup

Sofia’s Serenade to Katya, from the deleted scene in the boat where she sings “Come Raggio di Sol,” uploaded by @melongumi

Dockside #2, one of the unreleased tracks, uploaded by @reptilemodernism

Unnamed Fragment from Goncharov’s death scene, uploaded by @quizshow1994

Bonus:

Cover of the song Goncharov (2010) by @idiopathicsmile  (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

At Goncharov’s Gate (PC Version), song written for the PC game with a Super NES port released in 1994 for PC-DOS, uploaded by @badgraph1csghost (pointed out to me by @graduatedpillowmonster, thank you!)

One of the official trailers was recently recovered by @talkshowhost1996