#andrei makine

[matto77]

Il libro dei brevi amori eterni - Andrei Makine

Esistono tanti libri al mondo e so che non li leggerò mai tutti, per questo non scrivo di quelli che leggo.... ma questo libro credo si avvicini molto a ciò che definiamo miracolo. Leggetelo

#matto77 #andrei makine

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: after the gauntlet that was the honeymoon fic, i’m back with something shorter and sweet. i’m obsessed with girl dad drei, so that’s actually getting a bit of a focus the next few fics 🥰 again, posting this before i’m off to the isles/tampon bay (not a typo, i’m just a petty, grudge-holding long island gal) game, so give me a little positive energy in the tags!

word count: 3.4k

tw: nothing, just the standard google russian 🥲

summary: mother’s day in the svechnikov home

It’s too early for there to be so much noise in the house, you think briefly and through a haze of exhaustion. You roll onto your side, blinking, and Andrei nudges you and murmurs, “go back to sleep, I got it.”

The mattress dips and shifts as he climbs out of bed, stretching a little before he drops a kiss to the top of your head and pads from the room. You press your face back into your pillow and are nearly back to sleep when Andrei returns, the warm, solid weight of nine-month-old Dimitri placed against your side. Instinctively, you curl your arms around your son and tug the sheet up over his little legs. He quiets almost immediately, stretching his arms and legs out in the starfish position that’s a favorite of all the Svechnikov children, no matter how old they are.

“He should sleep a little longer,” Andrei whispers, running one large hand over the baby’s hair.

“Come back to bed,” you sigh, eyes shut and Dimitri’s little fist held in one of your hands. He smells like baby lotion and milk and it’s one of your favorite scents in the world. There’s a banging sound from downstairs and you wince.

Andrei chuckles a little. “Sleep, I’m going to go see what that is,” he strokes the back of his index finger over your cheek and you’re out before he even leaves the room again.

On his way downstairs, Andrei pokes his head into each girl’s room and once he sees that Alina isn’t in her bed, he has a pretty good idea of what the noise is and what he’s going to find in the kitchen.

Sure enough, there’s your second oldest daughter, pots and pans pulled out from the lower cabinets and a small pile of flour on the floor. Andrei clears his throat and Alina looks up, her hands still in the lower pantry cabinet. She grins at him innocently. “Oh, hiiii daddy,” she singsongs.

“Oh, hiiii Alya,” Andrei mimicks her tone, pressing his lips together so he won’t laugh. “What are you doing?”

The five (and a half! “Don’t forget the half, Daddy!”) year old slowly brings her hands back to her side and looks up at Andrei with his own brown eyes deployed to maximum adorable. “Makin’ breakfast for Mama,” she replies sweetly, with a faint undercurrent of ‘duh, isn’t it obvious?’.

He comes further into the kitchen and leans his forearms against the counter of the island, raising an eyebrow at Alina. She shuffles her feet and twists her fingers in the hem of her Disney Princess pajama tap. “Are you supposed to be trying to cook without me or Mama?” He smiles, just a bit, so she knows she’s not really in trouble. Andrei’s always been a soft-touch when it comes to disciplining the girls.

“No,” she sighs, “but I was gonna get you ‘cause I’m not even tall enough to get a plate out of the cabinet.”

Andrei doesn’t believe her for a second - Alina is nothing if not independent and resourceful. He’s pretty sure she would’ve just found something flat to use as a plate in a cabinet she could reach and call it a day. He starts picking up some of the pots and pans and says, “how about we work together to make Mama syrniki for breakfast in bed?”

“Ooh, yes!” Alina hops around in excitement, bouncing over to tug at Andrei’s shirt. “With bacon and s’berries?”

“Yes, with bacon and strawberries,” Andrei confirms on a laugh. “Do you want to see if Evie wants to help?” He pulls the child-sized stool from the corner and sets it against the island so Alina will be able to see and help.

She scrambles to climb onto the stool and shakes her head. “No! She’s too bossy and I just wanna be with you, Daddy,” she says firmly, pushing messy hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands. Andrei chuckles and gathers her hair into a little pineapple of a bun on top of her head, securing it with one of the black hair ties he’s gotten used to wearing around his wrist. Between you and three daughters, odds are good that someone will have a hair related emergency around Andrei. Alina beams up at him, “thank you, Daddy! Now I can see.”

“Now you can see,” Andrei laughs. He gathers the ingredients for syrniki - farmer’s cheese, eggs, flour, sugar, and salt - and lines them up on the counter in front of Alina. She taps each ingredient and counts out loud, pleased to show off her skills.

“One, two, three, four, five,” she looks up at Andrei for approval and he nods, smiling.

“Try in Russian,” he says, switching languages so Alina can practice. The girls are mostly fluent, since Andrei, his parents, and Geno all practice with them. “Tell me what each ingredient is.”

Alina squints a little before counting off to five in Russian. She manages to tell Andrei the word for each ingredient in Russian, but gets tripped up by farmer’s cheese.

“Good job, Alya,” Andrei kisses the crown of her head. “Say it after me: fermerskiy syr.”

“Fermerskiy syr,” Alina repeats, mangling the new world a little, but Andrei still praises her attempt. “Can we start now, Daddy?” She’s clearly impatient with the Russian lesson.

He sets the measuring cups and a large metal bowl on the counter and nods, “we can start now, Alya.”

Alina grins and digs into the process, pouring ingredients as Andrei instructs her. She dumps flour in the bowl, getting half of it on the counter and her shirt. “Oops,” she looks up at Andrei with wide, worried eyes.

He brushes the flour from her shirt and then “accidentally” spills some on his own shirt. “Oops!” He mimics her, eliciting sweet, childish giggles. He brushes more flour from her face and she wrinkles her nose at him.

The eggs get cracked into the mix and Andrei picks out a few stray pieces of shell, carrying Alina to the sink and holding her by the waist so she can wash her hands. “Raw eggs can make your tummy hurt,” he explains while she soaps up, “if you eat them, even by accident, so you always have to wash your hands.”

“I know, Daddy,” she sighs, clapping her hands together and getting soap bubbles flying in the air. “Mama telled us that when me an’ Evie wanted cookie dough.”

“Mama’s always right,” Andrei teases and when Alina’s done with her hands, he sets her back on the stool so she can mix the dough. He leans against the counter and watches for the most part, since Alina’s perfectly capable of mixing on her own. She starts telling him a rambling story about magical fairies that he’s pretty sure she’s making up on the spot and his chest fills with love for his girl. The hardest part about hockey is how much time he spends on the road. FaceTiming with you and the kids only goes so far. So he’s grateful that Mother’s Day this year fell on the Sunday between Games One and Two with a Canes’ home ice advantage. If he had to be traveling today, he doesn’t think he’d forgive himself.

“Daddy, are you listening?” Alina huffs, frowning at him and looking remarkably like you. He laughs and smooths his thumb over her eyebrows, erasing the frown.

“Yes, Alya, I’m listening,” he says patiently, hoping she doesn’t ask him to repeat the entire story. Alina opens her mouth, but it’s Evie’s voice that cuts in, “Dad? What are you doing?”

Andrei looks over to the stairs where Evie’s rubbing at her eye with the heel of her palm, hair falling messily out of pigtailed braids, and a confused look on her face. Alina grins at her big sister and explains, “we’re makin’ syrniki for Mama.”

“Oh!” Evie’s face brightens and she looks wide awake now. “Can I help?”

“We finished the batter,” Andrei explains, pulling the bowl away from Alina. “And remember that the next step is to fry them in hot oil, so…”

“Only Mom and Dad fry things,” Evie parrots the refrain you and Andrei had drilled into their heads from the time they started showing an interest in helping in the kitchen.

“Exactly,” Andrei points the spoon in his hand at her. “How about you two put foil on the tray and lay out the bacon? Maybe wash the berries?”

Evie nods and dances to the fridge, pulling out the bacon package and going about her tasks with the confidence only a second grader can muster. She bosses Alina around and Andrei has to step in once or twice when Alina gets annoyed at being bossed around. But for the most part, they work well together as he fries the little cakes in oil and sets them on a paper towel covered plate. He loves seeing their relationship blossom and the way Alina follows Evie around like a little duckling always makes him think of himself and Geno. Evie sighs and shows Alina how to wash the strawberries and Andrei’s throat clogs a little with emotion.

When the syrniki are done and the stovetop is turned off, Andrei claps his hands together and the girls look over at him. “We’re almost ready to surprise Mama,” he grins at their enthusiastic cheering. If you’re not awake yet, you will be soon. “Alya, why don’t you go wake up Kira so she can join us. Evie, can you go down into the basement, behind the toolbox, there’s a big bag with Mama’s gifts from you girls.”

Alina squints at him as Evie darts off to the basement. Andrei squats down to Alina’s eye level and asks, “what’s going on, Alya?”

“What are you gonna be doing?” She cocks her hip, planting her hand firmly on it. With her sagging little bun and strawberry stained pajama top, she looks like a harried mother of a dozen toddlers and Andrei resists the urge to laugh.

“I’m going to get breakfast ready on a tray for Mama,” he explains. “So we can bring it to her in bed.”

Alina nods, clearly happy with his answer. “Okay,” she pats his cheek and skips off, calling behind her, “don’t forget the sour cream!”

Twenty minutes later, Andrei has breakfast plated and on the tray, Evie is holding the shopping bag, and Alina’s back with Kira, having held the three-year-old’s hand while they both slid down the stairs on their butts, the way Evie had taught them. Andrei ushers the girls back up the stairs, all of them moving extremely slowly behind Kira. He probably should have thought this out better, but too late for that now. “Okay,” he whispers outside of the master bedroom door, “we have to go in quietly just in case Mama and Dimka are still sleeping.”

Kira and Alina burst through the door, smacking it against the opposite wall, and Andrei winces. But you and Dimitri are already awake and you gasp in faux-surprise, since your daughters aren’t exactly the quietest humans. Carefully moving Dimitri off of your breast and adjusting your sweater, you grin, “oh my gosh! My favorite girls!”

“S’pise, Mama! S’pise!” Kira screams, grinning and climbing up on the bed.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Evie says, practically tossing the shopping bag on the bed. Alina crawls into your lap, cooing over Dimitri before planting a smacking kiss on your cheek.

You kiss her back, squishing her cheeks between your thumb and index finger. She wiggles away and nearly kicks at the tray Andrei’s resting on the foot of the bed. “Oh, look, Mama! Daddy and I maded syrniki,” she crows, bouncing to her knees and pointing at the tray. Kira’s already reaching for a strawberry and Evie steals a piece of bacon.

Andrei grins at you, “better get some food before the little myshki nibble it all up.” He leans over to kiss you briefly.

“This looks delicious,” you say, shifting Dimitri in your arms. He squawks in annoyance when Kira rolls over and jostles him. She makes a kissy face at him and just as quickly, he’s giggling. You settle him on the mattress and he grabs for Kira with chubby hands. “Thank you,” you murmur, accepting the mug of coffee Andrei hands you, while lifting and curling your leg so Dimitri is in the reasonably safe position of being enclosed by your leg if he decides to move around. “You guys did such an amazing job.”

“I spilled flour but we cleaned it up,” Alina informs you through a mouthful of sour cream and syrniki. Andrei holds a hand under her chin to catch the falling crumbs.

“That must be my present then,” you deadpan, reaching out to get a forkful of your breakfast. “Oh wow,” you murmur around the mouthful, “that’s really good, Drei.”

He ruffles Alina’s bangs, “all thanks to my sous chef.”

While the kids nibble at breakfast, Evie pushes your presents into your lap. “You have to open the gifts, Mom! Wait until you see what we got you.”

It always makes your heart twinge when Evie calls you ‘mom’, missing the days when your oldest baby called you ‘mama.’ Andrei had nearly cried the first time she called him ‘dad’ instead of ‘papa.’ It’s probably how you ended up with four kids. The second one switches to ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, you need to have another.

Holding a piece of strawberry in front of Dimitri’s face for him to gnaw on, you unwrap your gifts with the other hand. Andrei’s finally sitting on the edge of the bed now, a mug of his own coffee in reach, but Alina’s draped over his lap, eating a piece of bacon and Kira’s standing on the mattress, holding his shoulders, with Andrei’s arm wrapped securely around her legs. Evie’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress, making faces at Dimitri so he’ll laugh and eating syrniki. There are so many crumbs on the bed.

You open the cards, not exaggerating when you exclaim over the handmade cards from the older two girls, stick figure drawings of you front and center on the covers. Kira and Dimitri contributed scribbles on another card, with their names printed underneath in Andrei’s chicken-scratch. His card - a Hallmark special - makes you cry with its inscription talking about how much you do for the family and how you’re the rock and the glue that keeps everyone together and how much Andrei loves you.

You look up and catch his eye, giving him a wobbly-chinned smile. He mouths ‘I love you’ and pops the dimple.

The pile of gifts include a glitter and paint covered picture frame from Evie complete with a photo of the two of you on the beach from last summer, Alina drapes a macaroni necklace over your head and you’re honestly surprised that this is still a thing kids are making in school but you love it nonetheless, there’s a new Stanley mug in Canes’ red to replace the one Andrei accidentally ran over with his car, a vintage Fleetwood Mac Rumours shirt you’ve been eyeing on eBay, and last but not least, a small black jewelry box that Andrei passes to Evie to give to you.

“Drei,” you murmur, “I really didn’t need anything.”

“I know,” he shrugs one shoulder, trying not to wince as Kira pulls at his hair. “I like spoiling you.”

“Open it, mama!” Alina sighs dramatically and Andrei tickles her, getting her shrieking with laughter and begging him to stop. The other three kids get in on it, laughing and making general noises of insanity. You sit back and watch them for a minute, stroking Dimitri’s soft baby hair and feeling so much love for these crazy people that are all yours.

“Okay, okay,” you call over the noise, “I’m opening my present from Daddy.” You pop the top on the velvet box and gasp a little when you see the necklace. It’s a thin gold chain with five horizontal letters on it. Two As, an E, a K, and a D. The little letters are studded with tiny diamonds and they glitter prettily in the light.

The girls crowd you and ooh and ah over the necklace. “It’s so pretty, Mom,” Evie gently traces one of the letters.

“It’s sparkly,” Alina says, a glint in her eyes. “I like sparkles.”

“Those are Mama’s sparkles, little magpie,” Andrei warns teasingly. He looks up at you, smiling shyly. “You like it?”

“I love it,” you reply, pulling the necklace from the box and dodging small, grabby hands to clasp it around your neck. It’s a shorter chain, so it hugs close to your neck resting at your collarbone. It layers perfectly with the cross you’ve worn every day since Andrei gifted it to you during your honeymoon in Greece. You run your fingers over both pieces, a soft smile playing at your lips. “This is the best Mother’s Day ever, all thanks to my favorite people.” You pull the girls close to you and kiss their cheeks and heads, making dramatic kissing noises so they’ll laugh. Eventually, after they’ve eaten all of your breakfast, they get bored of being in the bed and Alina and Evie roll off the mattress, heading for their rooms, knowing that lunch with the four grandparents is on the schedule for the day.

You’re left alone with Andrei and the two babies. They’re swapped now, Dimitri in Andrei’s lap and chewing on a chubby fist and Kira in your lap, playing with your necklaces. She looks tired and your smooth her hair back from her face while you snuggle her close. “This was so sweet, Drei,” you sigh. “I know you’re thinking about playoffs, but I appreciate everything you did this morning.”

“Solnyshka,” Andrei leans forward, mindful of Dimitri, and cradles your face in his hand. You lean into his touch and his thumb caresses your cheekbone. “You and the kids are the most important thing. I don’t get to play hockey without you here taking care of everything. Breakfast in bed and a few gifts are the least I can do.”

Feeling emotional, you angle your head and kiss the inside of his wrist. “Still. Thank you, my love.”

Andrei’s eyes twinkle and he tilts his chin to the breakfast tray. “I think you missed a gift,” he says and you reach over, pulling a little envelope out from underneath the empty plate.

Quirking an eyebrow at him, you murmur, “what do you have up your sleeve, Mister Svechnikov?” and open the envelope and withdraw a ticket confirmation page. There are little doodles - a sun, a palm tree, beach chairs, two stick figures in a compromising position - around the words and you finally focus on the location. Bora Bora. “What’s this?”

“This year’s vacation,” Andrei grins. “Just us. The parents, all four of them, have agreed to babysit for a week while we soak up some sun in a hut on the water.”

You shake your head at him, in disbelief. “How are you this amazing? How did I get so lucky?” You grin down at Kira. “Your Daddy is my favorite person in the whole world.”

“Me too!” Kira exclaims, lunging for Andrei’s lap. He catches her and laughs, kissing her cheek. She pats his face and frowns at the stubble.

“You deserve it and more, moya koroleva,” Andrei says. His tongue darts out and wets his lower lip. “More will have to wait though,” he bounces the kids on his lap. “When we have a less impressionable audience. For now…” he grabs your ankle and slides your across the sheets, slanting his lips over yours and biting at your lower lip gently. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, the promise of more rushing through your veins.

And then Dimitri shrieks because Kira’s poked him in the eye and more is absolutely not happening. Andrei swoops Dimitri into his arms and gets off the bed, heading down the hall, and you lift Kira onto your hip and bring her to her own room to get ready. Evie’s singing along to the Alexa in her room and you can hear Alina telling herself a story. The noise echoes around the hallway, delightful chaos.

“Happy Mother’s Day, solnyshka,” Andrei winks at you. You grin back, loving every second.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov

[woodytwig]

Tag game: tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

ooo i got tagged!!! by @onaperduamedee thank you!

Last song: Patti Smith: Because the night

Currently watching: rewatching Babylon 5 after 20 years (and it’s great, everyone go watch!)

Three ships: I'm still so so bad at shipping, I’ve once again acquired at least two new blorbos (Margo and Molly from For all Mankind!) and no real ships. But erm.. Moiraine/Siuan from Wheel of Time, obviously. Ivanova/Talia from B5. And.. uhmm.. Rhona/Phyllis from Shetland

Favorite color: green

Currently consuming: I just finished my coffee, it’s 7am (or was when i wrote this)

First ship: Mulder/Scully, somewhere on the gossamer archives before I really even knew what fandom was

Relationship status: relationshipped

Last movie: idk, I haven’t watched many movies lately. Must have been some old b-movie with friends last year. I’ll sub this question for one about books -> 

Currently reading: Just finished the first Murderbot Diary by Martha Wells, also reading A Memory called Empire by Arkady Martine and Requiem pour l’est by Andrei Makine, along with a couple of non-fiction books 

Currently working on: oh, I am actually working on something!! And now tempting all the weasels of fate by saying that publicly. It’s a ficlet for For all Mankind 

Would love to know everyone better, but let’s tag (with no pressure, of course): @trollocks-in-my-bollocks @corleyan @bubulcitate @sapphostistocking @holdouttrout and anyone who wants to introduce themselves

[thelivebookproject]

Reading Wrap Up | October - December 2023 + 2023 Recap

One more year has gone by, I almost can't believe it and yet it's already time to review how the year was.

[Jan-March] [April-June] [July-Sept]

Code: books read in English are in black, books read in Spanish in red, books read in French in blue & books read in Portuguese in purple.

OCTOBER (3)

West With the Night - Beryl Markham -> 4/5

Desencajada - Margaryta Yakovenko -> 3/5

Death and the Penguin - Andrey Kurkov, trad. George Bird -> 2.5/5

My favourite was definitely Markham's: as a British woman in colonised Kenya, I was wary of starting her memoir, but it actually was a really pleasant surprise. Her love for the country where she grew up in was palpable with each description of the land and the sky, and her life as a rancher, horse trainer, and chartered pilot was fascinating and full of adventures. Desencajada was a good insight into the life of a second-generation immigrant, but it was too similar to Supersaurio (by Maryam El Mehdati), which I read earlier in the year, to offer anything different. Kurkov's book was curious, but not enough for me to really recommend it.

NOVEMBER (4)

O Alquimista - Paulo Coelho -> 2/5

The Intimacy Experiment (The Shameless Series #2) - Rosie Danan -> 4/5

Greek Mythology: The Gods, Goddesses, and Heroes Handbook: From Aphrodite to Zeus, a Profile of Who's Who in Greek Mythology - Liv Albert (ilustrado por Sara Richard) -> 3/5

The Housekeeper and the Professor - Yoko Ogawa, trad. Stephen Synder -> 3/5

Coelho's was for a book club and it was as simple and as bland as I expected, but it was my first ever book read in Portuguese so yay for a landmark! Rosie Danan's was great, and I actually added her new book to my TBR because in just two books she's become a trusted author for romance.

DICIEMBRE (7)

A Viagem do Elefante - José Saramago -> 3.5/5

Infocracy: Digitalisation and the Crisis of Democracy - Byung-Chul Han, trad. Daniel Steuer -> 4/5

My Roommate is a Vampire - Jenna Levine -> 2.5/5

Demigods & Magicians (Percy Jackson + The Kane Chronicles) - Rick Riordan -> 3/5

In Bed with the Stablemaster (The Rogue Files #6.5) - Sophie Jordan -> 2.5/5

¿Para qué sirve realmente la ética? - Adela Cortina -> 2/5

Le Testament Français - Andreï Makine -> 2/5

December was very good in terms of numbers but not in terms of quality. Infocracy was super interesting and I do really recommend it as a good intro treatise on contemporary debates about democracy and information. Saramago's was also fun if a little overlong, and as usual Riordan is a good comfort read. But the rest of them? I've already forgot what they were about, definitely meh.

As usual, if you want to have a chat about anything I read just send me a message!

Yearly Recap

[Hello 2023 post]

Reading (at least) 55 books [59/55]

12 books in French [4/12]

12 books in Spanish [12/12] [Plus several books translated into Spanish!]

12 non-fiction books [11/12] [So close and yet so far...]

12 LGBTQ+ books [3/12]

12 books by European writers (excluding British ones) [10/12]

12 books by African/Afro-Caribbean writers [1/12]

12 books by Asian writers [3/12]

4 books by writers from Oceania (Australia, New Zealand, etc.) [1/4]

4 books by Latin American writers [4/4]

Okay, so I didn't do THAT great in my goals, actually. A couple of them were reeeeeally close, but some others were so far away it's actually a little embarrassing. But oh well, we live and we learn, and we try again...

I'm actually fairly happy with how my reading year went, even if I didn't manage to read one single 5-star book in the whole year (something to improve for next year for sure!). I think that after a couple of years of stallment and block, I'm really getting my groove back and I'm really excited for what the new year will bring! I have also been curating my TBR this past month to make sure everything on it brings me joy, and now all of my picks excite me. I can't wait to get to them in 2024; you can follow my reading adventures over in GoodReads if you want to take a look at my shelves :)

I hope you all close out 2023 in style and have a wonderful start to 2024. May it bring happy adventures and many good books!

#thelivebookproject #2023 #anual recap #booklr

[poesiablog60]

Prima ci sono la curiosita', la divinazione, la sete di confessioni. La fame dell'altro, l'attrazione per i suoi sotterranei.

Decifrato il segreto arrivano le parole, spesso pretenziose e categoriche, che dissezionano, stabiliscono, classificano.

Tutto diventa comprensibile e rassicurante.

Allora puo' cominciare la routine di una relazione o di una indifferenza

*

Andrei Makine

[ryosei-hime]

Goncharov made it into my dreams. I dreamed the Golden Girls were discussing the lesbian subtext in an episode. I can’t find time/energy to make fake screenshots so here’s the dialogue lol.

Dorothy: You mean you never even considered it? What about the scene with the fruit stand? You never thought something was...*gestures vaguely with hand* Rose: Oh! No! Of course not. Well. They’re just talking about fruit. Aren’t they? Blanche: Oh, please, Rose. Even I could see Sofia and Katya were makin’ eyes over those melons. Rose: Really? You, Blanche? Blanche: Why, of course! Fruit is the most sensual representation of the act of sex. The voluptuous shapes, the tender flesh, the sticky juices just....runnin down...your skin.... *heavy breathing* Dorothy: Blanche, get a hold of yourself. There are enough juices to clean in this house with Ma around. Sophia: *look of shock* Blanche: Well, lord knows whyyy Katya would be ogling melons with Sofia when Goncharov is right there. The man’s sex on a platter. Rose and Dorothy: *stare* Blanche: What? Dorothy: Sofia and Katya you get, but this you miss? What about Andrey?! Blanche: ...Andrey? I thought Andrey hated Goncharov. Dorothy: Rose, can I have that paper? Rose: *smiling knowingly as she hands it to Blanche* Sure. Dorothy: Thank you. *smacks Blanche in the head with the rolled up paper, leaving her shocked* Act like an imbecile, you get treated like one. Remember that. *gets up and exits with poise*

#Goncharov #unreality #golden girls

[izanyas]

Do you have any favorite books?

i have soooo many but i suck really badly at making lists like this. the only reason it was easy with cdrama leads in the earlier question is bc i have my MDL account super well organized and i can jhust scroll down my favorite titles. i can't do that with books because i don't have an account anywhere registering the books i read and also bc i have read like. hundreds of books in my lifetime.

off the top of my head

Désert by Le Clézio,

all the Arsène Lupin novels,

Samarcande by Amin Maalouf,

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou,

The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende,

La valse aux adieu by Kundera,

Le testament français by Andrei Makine,

His Dark Materials trilogy by Philipp Pullman,

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie,

Pars vite et reviens tard by Fred Vargas (all her earlier books in general),

The Lord of the Rings trilogy,

Colline by Jean Giono,

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Záfon.

all these can be placed among my favorite books but they are far from being the Only favorite books i have. also i'm sorry that most of them are french books but i'm not very well versed in anglophone lit

#answered

[soaptxt]

📚 Lecturas de 2024

Algunos datos del año pasado: terminé leyendo 32 libros y, según Goodreads, unas 9438 páginas. El libro más reseñado por otros usuarios fue Tan poca vida, que me dejó con un regusto amargo. El menos reseñado fue Escape, un ensayo que me gustó mucho sobre la relación que tenemos los millennials con internet, y su influencia en nuestra identidad. Ambos libros los leí en enero. El libro que más me acompañó fue, sin duda, American Prometheus, de Kai Bird y Martin Sherwin (aunque no hice ninguna reseña). Mi experiencia lectora favorita fue leer Modern Nature, de Derek Jarman, durante mi estancia en Londres. Fue bonito visitar los mismos sitios que Jarman menciona en el libro. Un descubrimiento sorpresa de fin de año: la narrativa histórico-científica de Benjamín Labatut, que disfruté mucho.

Continuamos por aquí con los libros de este año. (Para los años anteriores, véanse las entradas de 2022 y 2023).

Enero.

Bi: The Hidden Culture, History, and Science of Bisexuality, de Julia Shaw (2022, 🇨🇦). Editado por Canongate Books, 256 páginas.

Foster, de Claire Keegan (2022, 🇮🇪). Editado por Grove Press, 128 páginas.

Cambiar: método, de Édouard Louis (2023, 🇫🇷). Editado por Salamandra, 228 páginas. Traducido del francés al castellano por José Antonio Soriano Marco.

La glándula de Ícaro, de Anna Starobinets (2013, 🇷🇺). Editado por Impedimenta, 247 páginas. Traducido del ruso al castellano por Fernando Otero Macías.

Chevengur, de Andrei Platonov (1928, 🇷🇺). Editado por New York Review Books, 640 páginas. Traducido del ruso al inglés por Robert y Elizabeth Chandler. Reseña aquí.

Vida de un desconocido, de Andrei Makine (2009, 🇫🇷/🇷🇺). Editado por Tusquets, 272 páginas. Traducido del francés al castellano por Juan Manuel Salmerón Arjona. Reseña aquí.

El país de los otros, de Leïla Slimani (2020, 🇫🇷/🇲🇦). Editado por Cabaret Voltaire, 448 páginas. Traducido del francés al castellano por Malika Embarek López. Reseña aquí.

Febrero.

Miradnos bailar, de Leïla Slimani (2022, 🇫🇷/🇲🇦). Editado por Cabaret Voltaire, 436 páginas. Traducido del francés al castellano por Malika Embarek López.

Marzo.

Mother Night, de Kurt Vonnegut (1961, 🇺🇸). Editado por The Dial Press, 290 páginas. Reseña aquí.

Abril.

A History of the Bible: The Book and Its Faiths, de John Barton (2020, 🇬🇧). Editado por Penguin, 640 páginas.

Acerca del robo de historias y otros relatos, de Georgi Gospodinov (2000, 🇧🇬). Editado por Impedimenta, 160 páginas. Traducido del búlgaro por María Vútova.

[renatofilomena]

Bob James and Andrey Chmut - Feel Like Makin’ Love

#music #B James #A Chmut

[cryptidsncurios]

@backalleybrawl continued from [ X ]

“Trust me when I say, not every antique is as stereotypically brittle as ya might wanna think---after all, they’ve lasted so long for a reason,” then, making a pointed show of stretching out his muscles, flesh now kissed with a slight shimmer of sweat from actually allowing a measure of exertion, he cheekily adds, a lopsided grin stretching his features: “Plus, this particular piece here is priceless.”

At least Andrey wasn’t trying to hide the fact that this little encounter of theirs was riling him up---and, Xigbar had to admit, he was gleaning his own measure of enjoyment from it all as well. He imagined one thing would lead to another soon enough, as the majority of their interactions did.

But he wouldn’t be the first one to crack.

Not this time, he resolved.

“C’mon, if ya really still think makin’ cracks about my age is gonna getcha any sorta leverage in this fight, you’re barkin’ straight up the wrong tree, pup,” and he begins to match Andrey’s circular stride with his own---like two boxers, each waiting for the other to make the first swing. “I know I’m like a fine wine, the years only makin’ me tastier and more potent.”

Pausing, one hand on his hip, the other lifted in a come hither gesture.

“So come on n’ take a sip, little boy.”

#impetuousheart #ic: the fatal marksman #v: so you wanna pretend you're not a manipulative bodysnatcher

[armed-and-alxne]

💋 - kissing

🍛 - cooking

💃 - dancing

🍻 - tolerating alcohol

😠 - managing with their temper

🙊 - keeping secrets

😈 - manipulating with others

⌚- keeping track of time

😏 - lying

🔮 - magic

🔪 - melee weapons

🔫 - ranged weapons

💞 - expressing their feelings

✊ - keeping promises

Ask muse how good they are at... | {I’m using canon Luther for this!}

💋 - kissing

Luther chuckled shyly. “I don’t have much experience with that, sorry. I don’t think I’d be too good at it either. I really don’t know what I’m doin’. I think maybe that’s best left to other people.”

🍛 - cooking

“I know how to make some things, sure. Mostly things kids like, because babysitting’s the only time I have to actually cook for people. So... spaghetti and meatballs, mac ‘n cheese, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, that kinda thing. Okay, that’s not really cookin’ so much as just preparing already mostly cooked stuff, but I can whip somethin’ up fast, that’s the point. No one’s ever complained, so I guess I’m doin’ fine. I don’t really have time to cook for myself. If I have to get my own food, I just order a pizza or somethin’.”

💃 - dancing

Luther laughed out loud. “No. Nope. I suck at dancin’. Nobody wants to see me dance, trust me. I don’t have any natural talent in that department, and I’ve never taken the time to learn, so... yeah. It’s not happenin’.”

🍻 - tolerating alcohol

“I’ve got a decent tolerance for alcohol. I think once you can start drinkin’ old Russians under the table with their own vodka, you’ve arrived at bein’ able to hold your alcohol.

😠 - managing with their temper

{ Already answered here! }

🙊 - keeping secrets

{ Already answered here! }

😈 - manipulating with others

{ Already answered here! }

⌚- keeping track of time

“Oh, I’ve got that down. I always wear a watch, and I’m always aware of what time it is. I gotta be, it’s important for my job. Bein' punctual, makin’ deadlines.. those aren’t things I’m allowed to foul up. So yeah, I’d say I’m excellent at keepin’ time.”

😏 - lying

Luther shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I’m good at lyin’. I wish I wasn’t, and I don’t wanna be, but... I’m good at it. I need it a lot for work. That’s not an excuse, I know, but... it is what it is. Sometimes I don’t get to choose who I’m truthful to and when. That’s the nature of my job. I really hate it, though. Lyin’. It doesn’t feel good.”

🔮 - magic

“Oh man, I don’t know the first thing about magic. Well, I used to do that detached thumb trick thing for Boris, but he’s wise to that now. That’s it, that’s all I got. I’m no David Copperfield, that’s for sure.”

🔪 - melee weapons

“I’ve very good at hand-to-hand combat. That was one of the first things I was trained to do when I began working for Andrei. I’m good with my hands, with knives, with things like crowbars and anything really that I can pick up and use as a weapon. The idea is to never be unarmed. Always be able to arm yourself, whether that’s with somethin’ you find around you at the time or with your own fists.”

🔫 - ranged weapons

{ Already answered here! }

💞 - expressing their feelings

“I try not to, whenever possible. I my line of work, that can get me killed. For a lotta reasons. So I try not to if I can help it, and I usually can. When I have to express my feelings or I want to... I’m pretty bad at it. Because I’ve got no experience doin’ that, most of the time I’m tryin’ to not express my feelings.”

✊ - keeping promises

“I keep my promises most of the time. Sometimes life gets in the way, but it’s got to try pretty hard. Promises are important, so if I make one, I do my best to make sure I keep it. It might not always be in my power to do that, though...”

#about the muse

[matto77]

Domani, questo regime bacato crolla e ci ritroveremo nel paradiso capitalista; su quelle gradinate saliranno miliardari, star del cinema, politici abbronzati... E nel recenito degli intellettuali, Jean-Paul Sartre, per esempio. No, è appena morto, beh, ci metteranno un altro. Ma sa qual è la cosa pià buffa? Che la folla sfilerà ugualmente, come niente fosse. Già, perchè non le importa granchè di sapere chi occupa le tribune, l'importante è che qualcuno le occupi. E' questo che dà un senso alla vita del nostro formicaio umano. Sì, invece della statua di Lenin si potrebbe immaingare un playboy in smoking. Un giorno succederà. E di nuovo sfileranno quelle tre categorie: una grande maggioranza di placidi sonnambuli, i cinici e qualche ribelle emarginato..."

Andrei Makine - il libro dei brevi amori eterni

#matto77 #andrei makine

[kingsmeninternationalgroup]

[isabellesurletoitdumonde]

Andrëi Makine - “Il libro dei brevi amori eterni”

#andrei makine

[wordsandpeace2u-blog]

2021: June wrap-up

JUNE 2021 WRAP-UP Already one month of Summer gone… And I managed to post an amazing number of posts all this past month: only five!! I finally took one week away, which hadn’t happen for two years, like for many of us. One week in the woods, no phone, no internet, just hiking and birding, total bliss. So I didn’t do much reading either, hence the most pathetic number this month. So far, for my…

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#Andrei Makine #Georges Perec #Philip Kerr #Sébastien Japrisot #Serge Joncour

[tracesdelire]

Je vivais dans la certitude d'un bonheur enfin possible, une illusion à laquelle on s'accroche après une longue période noire...

Andreï Makine, L'archipel d'une autre vie

#andrei makine #l'archipel d'une autre vie #lecture #mots #words #quotes #quote #citation #citations #bookblogger #bookaddict