Letter - Mother Mother/victuuri for the ficlet prompt!!
i like this song omg! so cute 💖 have something related to the colours soulmate au that @witchfell and i came up with a while back!
My name is Viktor Nikiforov, and I am six years old. Your colours are blue in my head. I wonder if you are a baby. My teacher Miss Irina hepled me with my spelling. I wish you were older so we can play together. Do you like ice skating? I like ice skating. We can ice skate together when you get older!
Love, Viktor (age 6, Russia)
I wonder what colour I am in your head. You are such a beautiful blue in mine, pulsing gently with all of your emotions. We have to meet in order to start hearing each other’s thoughts, so I can’t wait for us to meet so that we can talk secretly through our thoughts too. There’s so many things I’d like to tell you that I can’t tell my parents or Yakov. I would tell my dog, but he can’t talk back like you could. I bet you would like my dog. He is a puppy named Makkachin. I got him for my ninth birthday after I won a skating competition! It wasn’t much, just a regional competition. I want to be good enough for Nationals soon, though!
Love, Viktor (age 9, Russia)
Are you skating, too? I can feel you flying in my head somehow. Maybe you are doing something else, but it’s the same feeling I get out on the ice, so I hope it’s because you’re learning how to skate. I was getting a bit scared to have a soulmate who didn’t skate, or who hated skating. I mean, I would still love you even if you hated everything about the ice, but it’s a lot easier this way! I’m preparing for the Junior Grand Prix now. I wanna win gold in the Junior Grand Prix and then move up to Seniors next year and eventually become the world’s best skater. It would be amazing if we could skate on the same ice together, so I hope you work hard at it, too!
I know in my previous letters I don’t talk about much else. But then again I guess there isn’t that much in my life besides skating and my dog Makkachin. My family is nice I guess but my parents are never home, so I spend all the time at the rink with Yakov anyway. My rinkmates are friendly but I can tell they think I’m weird because I’m so focused on becoming the best figure skater. I wish I had you to talk to. You never respond to these, but then I don’t expect you to.
I wonder where you are, my soulmate, and what you do, and what your family’s like, and if you like dogs. I want to know everything about you. All of your likes and dislikes, all of your hopes and fears. I guess we’re supposed to love each other already, but I don’t know if you will. I’m kinda weird. But maybe you’re a little weird, too. I’d like that, if we were a little weird together.
I tend to ramble these days, so I think I’ll shut up now.
Love, Viktor (age 12, Russia)
P.S. My coach and my ballet teacher are soulmates too. And they’re married. I wouldn’t expect you to want to marry me, though! But it’s a thought!
I feel like Viktor and Yuuri have difficulty going to clubs.
Not because the people are unwelcoming, or because they’re recognized too often–although, that’s a part of it, especially after Yuuri’s comeback gains Legend Status and they’re living in Saint Petersburg, figure skating capital of the world–but because they show up literally everyone else when they dance together.
Viktor probably isn’t as good a dancer as Yuuri, but he’s gotten at least some formal training from Lilia, and you don’t get that good at figure skating without being at least equipped with the ability to be devastating on a dance floor.
There’s a gay club in Saint Petersburg where the bartenders don’t really know who Viktor Nikiforov is–like, they’ve heard the name, and they know he won the Olympics twice or something, but putting a face to the name is difficult and they wouldn’t recognize the guy if he was standing in front of them.
And he does–semi-frequently.
They do know who Vitya is, though. Vitya and his husband Yuuri, or Kitten, or Darling (Or Baby, Gingerbread, Birdie, Bagel, Lover, Cookie, Sunshine–it actually took a few visits before they knew Yuuri’s real name) come in a few times a month and carve out a place for themselves on the dance floor for a few hours while everyone just sort of watches.
Everybody knows they’re going home with each other. It’s obvious from the way they move together, like they are one mind split into two people, but damn. Goddamn, is it fun to watch them.
where the frick did this whole “catholics support nazis” or “nazism is friendly to catholicism” bs i keep seeing come from bc for real y'all
not only was hitler a socialistic atheist who had a great hatred for christianity but ESPECIALLY for Catholicism’s deep hold on most of Europe which was strong enough that even he dared not touch aspects of it, there are plenty of examples of saints who were Catholic people who opposed the Nazi regime and paid with their lives, for instance, Saint Maximillian Kolbe, who volunteered to take the place of a husband and father in the starvation bunkers:
And St. Edith Stein, aka St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, a Jewish convert to Catholicism who was killed in a concentration camp with her sister:
Hitler hated Catholics. Catholics don’t like Hitler or actual Nazism. Killing people for being disabled or gay or not blonde is wrong. Duh.
After living in Sydney, San Francisco, London and Luxembourg, Kathryn Smith and Ike Udechuku moved to Brussels and created Ampersand House, a home-gallery where public and private meld together. The neoclassical house (where they really live) is located in the vibrant Saint Gilles district, and the interiors are in constantly changing as containers of art and design, vintage and contemporary furniture, objects and prototypes. Almost everything is on sale and used by the owners in everyday life as well as by visitors and collectors who can experience these design pieces in situ. Often, they invite gallerists and artists who present artworks and rare and unique furniture in their home. Kathryn and Ike still works in law and finance, but they now mostly operate as design advisors: they supports clients in purchasing art and design pieces and help them to create their own eclectic style.
Source: Ampersand House- Elle Decor Italia. Ph Mark Seelen
Olly Alexander of Years & Years kisses boyfriend Neil Amin-Smith of Clean Bandit as they perform on the main stage at the 2015 Jersey Live Festival at Saint Helier on September 05, 2015 in Jersey, Channel Islands
history meme(french edition) → 6 couples (3/6) Louis IX the Blessed & Marguerite of Provence.
“Louis was evidently impressed with the sincerity of her devotion and warmed her quickly. A stranger in Paris, Marguerite
was completely reliant upon her husband’s company. She looked up to and deffered to him, but she also amused and enchanted him. […] She adored her handsome new husband, who spoke beautifully and treated her with such gentleness and kindness. However, the growing passion inside the royal couple was not to please the King’s mother; Blanche of Castile watched her daughter-in-law, to the point of forbidding the King and the Queen to meet. Eventually, Marguerite bore Louis eleven children, took command and defended Damietta during Louis’ captivity in Egypt, and displayed moments of tenderness and affection toward her beloved husband. The young queen’s sojourn in the Holy Land was to affect her standing at home and abroad; she had gained international prestige for her fortitude. She was recognized as intelligent, practical, fair, and after her return, often asked to mediate disputes. Her husband, bereft to his mother’s counsel, frequently turned to her for advice. When the news of Louis’ sudden death reached Marguerite, in 1270, thirty five years had passed since their wedding, yet she was left desperately heartbroken. ” – N. Goldstone, Four Queens: The Provencal Sisters Who Ruled Europe // G. of Beaulieu, The Sanctity of Louis IX: Early Lives of Saint Louis.
how they never wonder if anyone is hanging out
or flinch when someone touches
their arms – their families stayed together
in a world where love makes out of you
a deer in the headlights
how they remember their fifteenth birthdays
with candles lit on top of a Jonas brothers cake
(I vomited all the way home, tripping
on the pavement
carried by a boy I worshipped
and the girl he swore he loved )
these bat kids in small town high school jungles
don’t feel dirty when they think
about the past,
addictions never call them like a beacon
in a stormy ocean, it’s all fun
for the I-don’t-use-tumblr kids and their Disney channel faces
who don’t want to live in castles but in tents,
where my rosary of social media apps
cannot reach them –
forever live the teenage saints,
patrons of the naivety of youth,
their facebook albums of outdated photos
become my holy book at night
as 23 eternities of being lonesome
drag my heart around for hours –
I am so aware of my aging flaws
I wish I could bleach myself on the inside –
to hell with Jordan, let me drown
in Lethe –