#but the idea that my organs exist when I’m sleep….

[einsteinbrosofficial]

my doctor: remember you need to take a dose of your heart medication before bed or else you will have The Symptoms.

Me, an entire neuroscience researcher, baffled that I still have a heartbeat at night: o:

[lesbicosmos]

day 4 of @painlandweek !!

day 4 prompt: domestic au

summary

2061. charles and edwin have been together for over seven decades. they've been best friends AND lovers for nearly four decades. their non-lives are good. edwin reads about a certain comet passing close to earth soon, and both are determined to go out and watch it

notes

title from space girl by frances forever

this was inspired by one reblog on tumblr of a post about halley's comet saying the boys both could have seen it when they were alive. i saw it and the idea just came to me and Would Not Leave (it may have just been an excuse to make edwin a bit of a space nerd. apologies i’m projecting my nerdiness onto this traumatised edwardian boy)

also on ao3!!

you know the galaxies of my heart

Forever was such an unfathomable concept. The passage of time was so much different when there was no limit to how long you were going to be around. It also felt different depending on the people you surrounded yourself with. The first thirty-four years Charles and Edwin spent together seemed to have flown by in a flurry of mysteries and laughter. Since they were both dead, there was no visible aging to represent how much time had passed, so they very well could have lost track of what year it was. Then they met Niko and Crystal, and everything slowed down. The two of them had limited time, they aged, they needed to sleep every day. The pace of their afterlives seemed to slow to better match theirs – though it still felt like it passed faster than it had when they were alive, and they didn’t like that. Niko and Crystal’s lives began passing quicker than either of them could prepare for, and by the time it had only felt like a couple of decades for the ghosts, in reality nearly forty years had passed. The girls were older, while the two of them still looked exactly the same as they had the day they had died. They also didn’t like how much change came with the passage of time. The girls didn’t join them every time they had a case now – they couldn’t race around London as quickly as they had been able to in their youth. They were still vital members of the agency, of course, but it was different now. It was like Charles and Edwin were going back in time to their first few decades together whenever they were on a case just the two of them. It was odd, but it was predictably nostalgic.

On the days they didn’t have Niko and Crystal around, and they didn’t have any cases to work on, they would spend their time simply existing together. That had always been so easy for them, and had barely changed when, a while after they met the girls, their relationship had taken a romantic turn. It wasn’t exactly the same – they did much different things in their free time than they had when ‘best mates’ was all they were – but all in all, not much had changed. They’d been comfortable around each other and devoted to one another since the very beginning. The last forty years had just included a lot more physical and emotional intimacy than the thirty that had come before.

It was one of those quiet cosy days. The sight was one that often occurred on days like these, and had done for many decades by now: Edwin lying on the sofa – he could actually fit now, they had invested in a new, larger one since they moved offices back in the 2030s – with a book in one hand, the other in Charles’s hair as he curled up beside him. Charles’s eyes were closed. They couldn’t sleep, but they agreed this, just existing in each other’s space, was rest enough. Edwin was around halfway through the 2061 Night Sky Almanac, currently reading about the many comets that would be visible later in the year. He loved looking up into the night sky, admiring the vastness of the cosmos. It was one of the only things that had barely changed since his time – only now there was much more light pollution, so it was harder to truly see its beauty.

As he turned the page, he gasped softly. Whether for hearing the gasp or for feeling Edwin’s chest rise, Charles opened his eyes.

“You okay, love?”

It had been nearly forty years, and still that nickname managed to send a comforting warmth through Edwin’s body.

“Yes. Just reading this…have you heard of Halley’s comet?”

“Yeah?”

“It only passes within visibility of Earth approximately every 76 years or so, and it’s passing by this year!”

“Oh, brills! When?”

“In a few weeks. Then it will be visible for several weeks after that.”

“We’d better make plans then,” Charles said, kissing Edwin’s cheek.

“You know,” Edwin smiled. “I saw Halley when I was alive.”

“Really?”

“May 1910. I was just ten years old, at the time. My science teacher at St. Hilarion’s was quite an eccentric fellow, was always interested in the stars. He’d taken our class out into the courtyard one night to watch it. Most of the boys merely messed around, of course. They were ten years old at a private boarding school, they didn’t care for comets, they just took it as an excuse to get out of study time. But it always intrigued me. I think I was the only one who saw it in the end, a dot of bright green amongst the stars in the sky. It was beautiful. I spotted it another couple of times through my bedroom window before it passed, too.”

“Woah.”

“Yes, Charles,” Edwin chuckled. “It was very woah.”

“I nearly saw it too.”

“Of course, it would have passed nearby in… ’86, too, wouldn’t it?”

“Yep. It was one of the school holidays so my friends had organised to go out into one of the fields nearby and camp out – well, a few of their girlfriends had. They’d invited us to go with, but none of the other guys were really that interested. I was though, I thought it was wicked. And although the guys were twats, even at 13, their girlfriends were pretty nice. I was good friends with a couple of them.”

“But you didn’t go in the end?”

“No."

“How come?”

“Why d’you think?” Charles let out a scoff, one Edwin had come to recognise whenever Charles’s father had been mentioned in the past.

“Oh.”

“He would’ve let me go if it was the guys, but ‘cause it was the girls…he really didn’t like me having friends who were girls. I never really got why, ‘cause he was always asking if I had a girlfriend, but now I’m pretty sure it was some homophobic bullshit, he didn’t want me interested in ‘girly’ things. So, he grounded me. Locked my bedroom door from the outside so I couldn’t sneak out. I could pick locks by that point, so I could’ve got out if I wanted, but I was just too scared of him finding out. And since my bedroom was in the basement, I had no windows, so I missed it. And then it was cloudy every night for the rest of the time it was meant to be visible, typical London.”

“I’m sorry your father didn’t let you go.”

“Nah, I got over it. It wasn’t the worst thing he did.”

Edwin knew that too well. He was almost glad he and Paul Rowland had never met before the latter died. Knowing everything he’d done to Charles, to Charles’s mother…he wasn’t sure what he would have done in the presence of that man.

Edwin hugged him tighter.

“Well, we’re going to see it this time. I promise.”

They had closed the agency for the night. Nothing was going to distract them from their plans. Over the last month, the plans had morphed from simply going out to watch the comet to turning it into a proper date. In all fairness, most of what they did together was as close to a ‘proper date’ that the boys could get, whether they planned it that way or not. They couldn’t eat or drink, so their ‘dates’ usually consisted of simply being together, without any talk or worry about the agency or a case. It was their time to simply be in each other’s company.

They’d found the spot they were going to go to. With their office being in the middle of London, they stood little chance of seeing the comet with all the light pollution, so had decided to travel. They were going to go to a field atop a hill in the countryside – one where they had been before whilst on a case. They had some vague knowledge of the area; including a cottage nearby that had a full-length mirror in the hallway.

“Ready?” Charles asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and offering his arm to Edwin.

“Ready,” Edwin replied, taking it.

Charles looked him up and down, admiring the boy he loved, the boy he’d seen every inch of over the last several decades, both physically and emotionally. While he had kept his everyday outfit practically the same since the day they had met, tonight Edwin had forgone the bow tie, instead having undone the top few buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbones on show. He also didn’t have his usual jacket, instead settling only for his sweater vest. His hair was different, too; it wasn’t slicked back like usual, instead falling naturally, his slight curls tucked behind his ears. Whenever they were alone, Charles always found a way to run his hands through it, which always messed up its usual style, so Edwin had begun planning ahead for times like these.

He looked beautiful. Charles told him as such.

“Thank you my dear,” Edwin smiled. “So do you. As always.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me,” Edwin teased.

“As much as I would love to do that, we have a once-in-a-lifetime comet to go and see.”

Edwin resisted the urge to point out that once-in-a-lifetime meant nothing to them since they were dead and had forever, but he was eager to see it tonight and wasn’t entirely keen on having to potentially wait another seventy-six years.

“Point taken,” he sighed, and reached his hand out to the mirror, focusing on their destination. “Right, let’s go.”

They stepped through the mirror together, arms still linked.

The cottage was owned by a living couple, neither of whom could see the dead, so the boys exited the house without any trouble. Charles reached into his backpack and took out a lantern – a lantern, Edwin noted, that was identical to the one he had brought for Charles in the attic the night they met, identical to the lantern Charles had carried through Hell and left there. Edwin smiled at the sentiment, took Charles’s hand, and soon they arrived at their intended comet-watching spot. They’d been there to stargaze a couple of times since the case that made them aware of the area, but this time it was even more special.

Charles crouched on the ground, taking the bag off his back and opening it.

“You know,” Edwin chuckled. “You really didn’t have to bring the blanket. Or the pillows. We won’t be able to feel the difference.”

“It’s about the principle, mate.”

Only Charles Rowland would be able to turn ‘mate’ into a romantic nickname, and keep it that way for several decades.

‘You’re still my best mate, that’ll never change,’ he had explained the first time Edwin had questioned it after they were officially together – although that felt odd in itself since they’d always been together. But they supposed there hadn’t really been words invented to accurately describe the two of them. ‘Besides, it could also be short for soulmate, y’know.’

Edwin couldn't argue with that.

Charles pulled the blanket out of the backpack – it was a large handmade one, knitted in blue and red with a design in the middle: two traditional cartoon ghosts, one wearing a bow tie and the other with a gold necklace and earring. To no one’s surprise, it had been a gift from Niko back when she had found out it was the boys’ 40-year anniversary of knowing each other. That had meant it had also been 40 years since Charles’s death, but that was never the main reason he remembered that date.

He laid the blanket out on the ground before reaching his arm into the bag again, rummaging around until he found the pillows he packed. He only noticed Edwin’s raised eyebrow and endearing smile when he finally looked up after taking several out.

“What?” Charles asked, arranging the pillows around one side of the blanket.

“Your dedication to our inconsequential comfort really is charming.”

“What can I say? Charming is my middle name,” he grinned, and laid down on the blanket.

“We both know you don’t have a middle name, Charles.”

“Shhh. Come on, sit down.”

Charles shuffled over slightly, expecting Edwin to take the space next to him. Instead, he decided to sit right on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Jeez, alright, give a man some warning would you?” Charles smirked.

“I’m so very sorry,” Edwin said, smirking back, clearly not sorry at all.

Edwin cupped Charles’s face with his hands, leaning down to capture his lips with his own. Charles’s hands were on Edwin’s waist, holding him steady as he kissed back.

“You know love,” he breathed when they parted, keeping their foreheads touching. “You’re gonna struggle to see the sky from up there.”

“Well luckily for us, it’s not quite dark enough to see it yet. Although…” Edwin looked across to the lantern, still switched on and glowing bright yellow an arm’s length away from them. He reached out to grab it, switching it off before returning it to its spot on the grass beside the blanket. “Wouldn’t want interference from any light pollution, would we?”

With that, Charles rejoined their lips, his hands moving under Edwin’s shirt to touch his ribs. Edwin gasped slightly at the touch, breaking the kiss. In that time, Charles moved his own mouth from Edwin’s to his jaw. Edwin tipped his head back slightly and Charles mentally thanked Edwin from an hour ago for leaving those top few shirt buttons undone, moving down to kiss his neck and collarbone.

“Charles…” Edwin said softly, and Charles felt the vibrations against his lips.

Charles moved away slightly, looking up at him.

“Yeah?”

Edwin launched himself forward to kiss him again, catching Charles so off-guard he fell backwards into the pillows. ‘See, comfort,’ he thought, but didn’t have the willpower to say it out loud, or in fact do anything other than kiss back fervently.

“I love you,” Edwin mumbled against his lips, manoeuvring himself so that they lay flush against each other, wrapping his arms around Charles’s waist as they kissed.

“Love you too,” Charles giggled.

They may have been together for nearly forty years, and had a tendency to act like a couple who had been married for even longer, but they were still just teenagers in love at heart. And since they would never age, that would never change.

Eventually, Edwin broke away from the kiss, instead burying his head in the space between Charles’s neck and shoulder, sighing contentedly. Charles tangled a hand in his hair, threading his fingers through the loose curls. Once again, he thanked Edwin’s forward-thinking when he got ready.

They lay there for a while, Edwin occasionally pressing a kiss to the side of Charles’s neck. Charles just stared up at the sky. They had definitely chosen the right night; there wasn’t a cloud in sight. As he cast his eyes over the vast expanse above them, Charles’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, the stars becoming more and more visible as the sky grew darker and darker.

Then, he spotted something.

“Hey, Edwin,” he whispered, removing his hand from Edwin’s hair to his shoulder. “I think I can see it.”

Edwin shuffled off Charles, turning onto his back and lying beside him so he could look up. Sure enough, amongst the tiny lights of the stars, there was one slightly bigger, slightly greener glow, with a slight short tail of the same green fading out to one side.

“That’s it,” Edwin said, joining his and Charles’s hands in the space between them on the blanket. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Charles replied, awestruck. “Although, I expected it to be faster. It barely even looks like it’s moving.”

“Well, remember it is very far away. Even at perihelion, it is still nearly fifty million miles from us.”

“Woah…”

“If I remember correctly,” Edwin explained, “Halley’s average speed when it is this close to Earth is around one hundred and twenty-three thousand miles per hour, which sounds very fast – and is – but at such a distance, it’s barely anything from our perspective.”

“That’s insane.”

“It is, rather. I’m very glad I got to see it again.”

“I’m glad I saw it with you,” said Charles, moving to rest his head on Edwin’s shoulder.

“If it’s not cloudy next week, would you like to come again? It should be visible for a while as long as the weather is forgiving.”

“That’d be brills.”

“We could also ask Niko and Crystal if they’re free. Maybe we could camp out, like you were going to back in ‘86. I know we aren’t exactly your teenage friends but it’s unfair you missed out on that because of your father.”

“We should definitely invite them. And for the record, I’d much rather do this with my three favourite people ever than anyone I was friends with back then,” Charles said, pressing a soft kiss to Edwin’s jaw.

Edwin hummed, kissing the top of Charles’s head in return.

They didn’t return to the office until well after the sun had risen. They would have fallen asleep in each other’s arms if it were possible, but since it wasn’t, they spent the night looking up into the sky. Edwin pointed out constellations he could remember, and Charles came up with new names for the ones he thought sounded stupid.

(“How is that a swan? It’s just an X!”

“Use your imagination, Charles!”

“I dunno if it was just imagination the people who named these were on, Edwin.”)

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Edwin asked after they’d been quiet for several moments, eyes still fixed on the endless expanse above them.

They’d moved now so that Edwin was lying beside Charles with his head on his shoulder, Charles’s hand gently stroking up and down his arm.

“Yeah,” Charles replied, but when Edwin looked up at him, Charles’s eyes weren’t on the stars.

They were on him.

Edwin chuckled softly, turning his head to look up again to hide his blush – which wasn’t really there anyway. Charles just smiled.

The stars reminded Edwin of the two of them. Most of them were probably long-dead, but from this perspective, for people who could see them, they shone so brightly it was as though they were still alive. He also couldn’t help but make the connection between the stars and his own feelings for Charles. They had burned so brightly for so long, and after he’d truly realised what they meant, they only grew brighter still until, in the moment he was most vulnerable, they exploded out of him; a supernova on that staircase on the journey back from Hell. But the difference is: supernovae are star deaths, and that was far from the death of his feelings for his partner. Forty years on from that fateful moment on the stairs, it was as though they glowed brighter than ever before. Charles’s did too, the two of them orbiting around one another closer than they ever had, a binary system that would break all the rules of the universe if it meant they could burn as bright forever.

[kaneandfeels]

SO A LOT OF YOU ASKED A LOT OF QUESTIONS So we answered every one we were asked

1. What is an element of your story that surprised you?

How quickly the Holmes and Watson dynamic we used as a writing crutch entirely flipped through our characters growing and developing. Feels became the star rather than the sounding board in a way that is really organic and good - Jack

Its scope. I had dabbled with absurdism before Kane and Feels, but never gone full existential horror. I’m more of a like quiet melodrama type so i love that jack was able to get me writing more esoteric bullshit- Oli

I don’t know if it's surprising, but there’s a tenderness to a lot of the series that I wasn't expecting when we started. It sets its tropes out strongly, and then the characters interact in that space and take it in wildly different directions, while remaining true to the genre. - Jude

2. Is audio drama the only medium you've worked in? How does it compare to other mediums?

Audio dramas are the only form I've ever received feedback for really, I have a literature degree and I am constantly making stories but I don't really have any other published works like this. - jack

I’ve studied in other mediums, but not worked in them. I’ve done bits of filming at school but found quickly my talents laid in sound. - Jude

I’m an audio nerd, through and through. Started as a musician, became a DJ, wrote a sitcom, did a degree, made some docs and factual programmes and then it's been audio dramas since then. It's a difficult medium to master but a rewarding one when its’ done right. - Oli

3. What are some audio dramas that inspire you? Both in general and for your podcast.

Welcome to nightvale was a big early touchstone, the work of Dirk Maggs like batman knightfall meant a lot to me as a child, I had it on cassette tapes

HItchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (the radio series) is a big one. I listened to it religiously when growing up. Neverwhere was another one that inspired me from a sound perspective. The shifting brickwork always tickles my brain. - Jude

I listened to a lot of HP as a kid, while going tobed. I graduated onto the BBC7 ‘Comedy Club’ which played a mix of half hour sitcoms and stand up comedy vehicles between 10 and midnight when I was going to sleep… occasionally I would drift into the ‘seventh dimension’ where I’d hear the man in black, Blake 7 and all other sci-fi horrory affairs.  When Nightvale turned up, that was a game changer, cause it opened the field to people like me to go make audio dramas without the clout of the BBC behind us. Same with Wooden overcoats. 

More specifically though, there is a direct line between Aker and Blacker’s “beyond Belief’ on the Thrilling adventure hour’ and the early drafts of Kane and Feels

4. Who is a character that took you by surprise?

Councilman Geoff Grace. Go listen for why - Jack

Jeanine (the housewife) wasn’t surprising, but she was shocking. I just loved her framing and existence in the story. It's one of those ones where you can feel the screen on the scene. you ‘re looking in at this strange commercial of a woman as she lives this warped 50’s vibe. - Jude

For me, its the monster from wonderland. I had this idea for something grotesque, that pulled apart the idea that words don’t hurt. Of course words hurt. That’s why they can lead us to violence or action or whatever. So I had this idea of a monster who said words ‘scar from the inside’. Jack said ‘this is great, what is this monster?”…. And i hadn’t thought that far ahead. I said ‘I dunno, that’s your job, spookyman’ - so suddenly its the voice of the goddess of spite, we get Vivi P, the most terrifying italian woman ever to grace our studios to do her voice, and then pepper her in through out the series making her a serious big bad. Didn’t know she’d have that milage considering it was essentially a joke about sticks and stones breaking bones. - Oli

5. If you're the writer, how did casting/producing change how you thought about the podcast?

No one gave a fuck about our opinions on this particualr subject. - Oli

6. If you are a voice actor or audio editor, what is your favorite blooper moment?

There's a line with constituents in season one episode 4 that I just couldn't say - Jack

I think a lot of our weird bloopers end up in the show, either as the take or buried beneath some stuff. Season 2 is lousy with them, from Chippie’s final monologue to the sound of me and Oli in Thornbush’s charity shop. To even the joke about Paul Bearer in the final episode. - Jude

There’s one take we never used, where Ali Cambell, Jeanines’ actor, improvised a story about their first hamster. In the story, she crushes it to death. We loved it at the time, but it was arguably better than anything any of us had written so I personally coward’d out and didn’t put it in. - Oli (Id’ forgotten about that - Jude)

7. If you could make a crossover (canon or non canon) with any other audio drama, what would it be?

Am I allowed to say ‘Camlann’? Even though its very recent we’d slot in very well.or Victoriocity - Jude

I mean, I want to be on hello from the magic tavern, but not as kane - Jack

Sandman. Wanna work with Dirk. or What’s the Frequency or if Rose Drive ever resurrects.  - Oli

8. What is an inside joke or reference that is hidden in your podcast?

So many wrestling kayfabe references -  Jack

I always think of ‘GET BACK VILE BEAST’ *dunstan throws a spanner at a bird* - The real joke is that a lot of the rocks from St Dunstan made it into Camlann episode seven when the hill opens up into the underground.

The inside joke for me is the loops. “Jude’s discount Loops” - hacking these beautiful pieces of music that Oli has made and getting them to work. They’re all like 14 minutes long and there’s chopping that needs to be done. 

9. What are some of your favorite podcasts to listen to?

World Beyond Number. Westminster Insider, Too many Tabs, Chapo Trap House. I’m a trash person who listens to trash. (other than WBN, most exciting actual play on the scene RN) = Oli

Is it terrible I’m more of a music person? I’m currently spiraling back into Nonagon Infinity by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. I listen to old audiobooks to sleep. At the moment it's the good omens radio series with Mark Heap and Peter Serafinowitz. - Jude

I have an elaborate weekly schedule of podcasts I listen to, my current favorite is 'mom can't cook'

10. Are the podcasts you make / enjoy making the same kind you enjoy listening to (genre, formatting, etc)?

I mostly listen to character improv comedy and comedy reviews of film and wrestling. A little bit of D&D actual play too. so I guess... no? - J

I can’t just say ‘I don’t listen to podcasts’... I mean I can and I don’t. - Jude

No. - Oli

11. Free space! Tell me something cool about your podcast!

The music is crazy good - Jack

The Sound Design is once in a generation. - OliThe writing is ambitious and exciting - Jude

[dark-frosted-heart]

Aphrodisiac Event - Roger Barel (part 1)

As usual can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Roger: Wanna be my test subject for this (aphrodisiac)?

Kate: ...Excuse me?

While helping Roger organize his materials, I did a double take at his outrageous suggestion.

Roger: Remember how a few days ago, El and I took down a crime syndicate that was using aphrodisiacs to do some bad stuff?

Kate: Yes, of course I do. I wasn't with you, but I understand what happened. The organization responsible for manufacturing the aphrodisiac was destroyed and the crime was put to a stop, right?

Roger: Yeah, and this aphrodisiac was confiscated.

Roger placed a pretty vial on the examination table.

(At first glance, it looked like perfume or something)

Roger: Aphrodisiacs claim to enhance libido, but the active ingredient hasn’t been medically proven.

Kate: So aphrodisiacs are fictitious?

Roger: Yeah, if something called an aphrodisiac existed… Something that acts directly on the medial preoptic area of the hypothalamus*… It’d be a drug that stimulates the release of sex hormones. So I looked into this aphrodisiac and found an interesting component.

Of course Roger, whose life’s work is researching curses, would capitalize on the “interesting component”.

Kate: You didn’t…

Roger: I already gathered data on the curse by having Liam drink it.

Kate: I knew it! Just because Liam’s too nice, you used him as your guinea pig again!

Roger: That guy was happy to satisfy his curiosity so I consider it a win-win.

Kate: Um, so… You want me to take the aphrodisiac because you don’t have enough “human” samples?

Roger: You're quick on the uptake. Good, you're a fast learner.

Kate: I don't appreciate the compliment...

Roger: So, how ‘bout it?

Kate: Please don’t just offer an aphrodisiac like you would booze.

Roger: It’s nothing that serious. You’ll be quarantined so Crown won’t touch you. And if you need to be taken care of, I can help?

Roger patted my head as if while saying that as if it was nothing.

Though it was a casual gesture, it was enough for my body to recall the lustful heat.

Of the times when Roger kissed me forcefully and touched my body.

And how easy it was for me to feel good.

(Hey, don’t get caught up in it)

Kate: I can’t just say “okay, sure.” I respectfully decline.

Roger: Hmm, how cold. Guess I’ll just have to find someone else :(

Kate: Someone else…?

Roger: Once you’ve made up your mind, you gotta act, right? Let’s go.

Kate: H-hold on, Roger!

~~

I desperately tried to catch up to Roger’s casually long strides.

Kate: What do you mean by “find someone else”?

Roger: I’m looking for a woman whose biologically “human”.

Kate: No one would do such a thing.

Roger: Not if you got the money. There’s more self-sacrificing people in the world than you think.

Kate: But to have a person drink it…

Roger: What happens when they get excited? Like I said, I’ll deal with it.

Kate: T-that…

Alfons: I can hear Roger’s deep voice echoing in my sleep-deprived head. Can you be a little quieter?

Kate: Alfons…

Roger: You’re still sleepy at this hour? Your circadian rhythm’s broken.

Alfons: You would like for me to bask in the morning sun and sleep at night? I refuse. So what is it that you two are arguing so intimately about? Did Roger finally lay his hands on you?

Kate: Um, no.

Alfons: Then, what is it? I haven’t the slightest idea.

Roger: Kate won’t take the aphrodisiac.

Alfons: Really! Stingy Miss Kate.

Roger: Right? I told her I’d help when she got too horny.

Alfons: Ah! Perhaps you would like a threesome? Though I’d rather not with Roger involved.

(I can’t be the straight man…)

Alfons: When you suggested that she test the aphrodisiac, Kate declined. So now she’s desperately chasing after Roger the beast as he looks for other test subjects.

Kate: You know.

Alfons: I’m a clever man. Ah, yes. Let me give you something nice, something interesting.

Alfons holds out an invitation card.

Roger: Which high society mansion?

Alfons: It belongs to the Weasley family, who owns large plots of land. A place to bring their daughters and men together, I’m told. The father’s quite the strange fellow. “It’s best to experience a variety of men before finally choosing one,” he said. 

Roger: Oh? There’s some strange ideas these days. And it’s tonight?

Alfons: I don’t plan on making an appearance so feel free to hunt as you like.

Alfons returns to his room with a yawn.

(Roger’s going to find a test subject in high society, isn’t he?)

(I…)

Roger: Kate. Wanna come along as the “fairy tale writer”?

It’s obvious this isn’t a mission for Crown or anything.

Roger’s aware and he’s testing me.

(Something like “Follow me if you’re interested. I’ve got an excuse ready for you, okay?”)

I reflexively responded to his provocative gaze.

Kate: I’ll join you as the fairy tale writer to make sure you don’t misbehave.

Roger: Alright. Then-

Roger’s hand grasped mine tightly.

Roger: Let’s hold hands and be on our merry way.

Kate: Please let me go.

Roger: Nope.

*Here he says “the area libido is centered in the hypothalmus” but I had to do this

Part 2

[sagaduwyrm]

See No Evil (Wipe Clean My Sins)

It was Nocturne who explained it to him first, the God of Dreams and Nightmares shocked that no one else had tried. Maybe they had. Danny hadn’t been the most aware in the early days, every shape he took too-big-too-small and the Infinite Expanse of the Infinite Realms resting heavy on his shoulders. When you are a god, the Sleeping Ancient said, every act against you is a transgression. When you are a god, every transgression becomes a sin.

It was Nocturne who explained it to him first, the God of Dreams and Nightmares shocked that no one else had tried.

Maybe they had. Danny hadn’t been the most aware in the early days, every shape he took too-big-too-small and the Infinite Expanse of the Infinite Realms resting heavy on his shoulders.

When you are a god, the Sleeping Ancient said, every act against you is a transgression. When you are a god, every transgression becomes a sin.

Danny hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. He couldn’t comprehend how it could matter so much, how a sin against a god could twist the fabric of reality into knots and bend the flow of time away from its path.

He understood now.

Ellie, his clone, his mirror-child, his daughter , looked the same as the day she was born but for the y-shape carved in her chest as she lay behind him. Before him stood his parents.

“Danny, sweetie, I need you to step away from the ghost.” Madeline Fenton's hands shook with fear. She thought it was fear for her son, standing too close to that dangerous spook as he was. It wasn’t. Madeline Fenton was afraid of her son, the young man that came back from college and stood tall in between his parents and the ghost, blocking their way.

Human instincts were not the most powerful of things. They had sacrificed that capability in exchange for a different kind of thinking, one that let them build grand workings and conquer their planet. Still, something in the depths of the human brain remembered what it was to fear something too big and bright for human eyes to perceive.

Danny’s eyes glinted strangely. His shadow thrashed on the floor, gentling where it circled the young girl.

“How. Dare. You.” Danny’s voice was steady and quiet, but something at the furthest reaches of human hearing howled .

The Fenton parents exchanged a glance. Jack Fenton spoke carefully. “Danny-boy, it’s a ghost. It isn’t a real person.” His voice picked up in excitement. “And just look at all the data we’ve already captured!”

Around them, the fabric of reality twisted, rippled, and fractured like a mirror dropped from a great height. The Fenton’s kept their eyes on their son, something in them quailing at the idea of looking at the cracks in the corners of their eyes.

Danny snarled. “That ghost is my daughter. Your granddaughter.”

Now they were alarmed. “Danny, if it has you believing it’s your daughter, we need to get you away from it right away. The GIW has a good program for detoxification from ghost control, they’ll help,” Maddie said. She wanted to turn and walk up the stairs, lead the way so her son would follow, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that if she went outside of the basement the rest of the world would still exist. Somehow, it felt like the only thing that was still real was the space between them and their son.

Danny closed his eyes and let out a tired breath. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay son!” Jack smiled. “Just come over here and let us make this right.”

Danny kept talking like he hadn’t heard him. “I hoped you could change, that you would change. That you loved me enough to be better.” He met their eyes and his gaze was pained and filled with sorrow. Their hearts started picking up in their chests.

“I love you.”

"But I won't make the same mistake with Ellie that you did with me."

The world screamed . The weight of the Infinite descended all at once, tearing through fragile three-dimensional reality to reach the sinners standing before the King. The Fenton parents had time for one cut-off scream before the world settled and stilled and they were gone.

The High King of the Infinite Realms collapsed into a grief-stricken pile on the ground, pulling his daughter gently into his lap as he sobbed.

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

the nanny part 3 | hangman x reader (saturn)

note: finally a longer one? ish? it took a minute to write because i had a headache every day for the last week and then i had a take home organic chemistry exam that i needed to get done (gotta maintain that 4.0, school is important kids!)

warnings: swearing, very light angst, jake is pinning, saturn is in a relationship. lowkey jake is a simp.

i don't think that this is a warning but i've not explicitly said this either, but any female character i write is bisexual. of that isn't your cup of tea, i'm sorry.

word count: 2.6k

not beta'd we die like men.

inspired by: @roosterforme

previous | next

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Jake was a mess. 

For no reason, honestly. He had typed out, deleted, retyped, deleted again, and then said said fuck it and opened up his notes app to try and type a message out to you about this weekend. All this weekend is, really, is a friendly chat between a dad looking for someone to help him out with his infant daughter that he didn’t know existed a month ago, and Penny Benjamin’s solid 10 niece that gave him a half mast when she was holding his daughter, for no reason. 

And when you called him Dad-man? His heart stopped. He thought about it all night. 

By the time Friday night had rolled around he still hadn’t texted you in regards to going out tomorrow, so when he got a text message from you, he was a little confused, he hadn’t given you his number… had he?

Hey dad-man! Rooster gave me your number since I hadn’t heard from you all week. Are we still on for tomorrow? I know that Avery is a little young but the San Diego Zoo is doing a little arts and crafts thing with the animals tomorrow we could check out? My treat? you had sent along with a link to the event and he smiles as he types out his message to you.

Hey! You know I honestly had like, 30 different messages typed out to send you but they were all ass ideas compared to yours. I’m sure Avery would love it even if she doesn’t understand what’s going on, lol maybe we could grab coffee or something from a cafe afterwards?

It’s a date, dad-man ;) you send back after a few minutes, which is quickly followed by: pick me up at 9? 

It’s a date, darlin he sends and then groans into his hands “darlin? Seriously? She’s going to nanny your fucking get, get a grip Seresin.” he sets an alarm for 7 am, not like he needs it though. Avery is awake and hungry by 6:45 then out for a nap by 8:30. 

He’s asleep just after 2 and at 6:45 on the dot he can hear Avery stirring through the baby monitor on his nightstand. He’s quick to stand up before her wails get any louder, changes her from any accident she could have had in her sleep and then heads downstairs to make her a bottle. While he’s feeding her, he has coffee brewing for himself so he isn’t a complete zombie when he sees you in a few hours. He gets Avery dressed and her diaper bag packed before he’s setting her in her bouncer in the bathroom so he can take a quick shower without leaving her unsupervised -- she has the time of her life listening to him sing. 

It’s 8:45 by the time he’s finally leaving. Avery forgoing her morning nap and choosing to fight him instead when he was trying to get her dressed, and then puking on his one clean shirt that he had that wasn’t his service khakis or a graphic t-shirt set him behind his schedule. He quickly found a shirt that he turned into a tank top, groaning at how he looked like a gym douchebag 

You were waiting on the steps of Penny’s house for him nearly 15 minutes past 9 for him, and boy were you a sight to see. He definitely regretted his choice of a dingey old Navy shirt but that was his own fault for putting off his laundry and choosing to favor doing Avery’s instead. You were wearing jean shorts you obviously cut yourself, sinfully short but also modest at the same time. The shorts were paired with a pair of tennis shoes and a plain white tank top and a… fanny pack?

You hopped into his truck with a “you’re late” but he just laughs and points to the fanny pack.

“The 90s called, they want their stuff back.” 

“Hey, don’t shit on the 90s. Plus fanny packs are back in. It’s so much more convenient than carrying a purse or other bag around, they’re less likely to be stolen, and both my hands are free.” you say and do a little jazz fingers motion and he just smiles and shakes his head. You put your seatbelt on and he’s pulling out away from the curb.

“Besides, you can’t shit on what I’m wearing, when you’re wearing that.” 

“Hey, be nice to me. Av puked on the shirt I was going to wear and I hadn’t had the chance to wash my clothes yet.” 

“Well, let’s skip the zoo. Avery won’t know the difference, we’ll go back to your place and I can help you clean up.” you suggest and he shakes his head.

“My laundry is not your responsibility. We’re going to the zoo.” he says in his dad voice and you just laugh.

“Whatever you say, dad-man.” you kick your feet up against his dash and if you were anyone else, he’d be telling you to get them off the dash.

The drive to the zoo goes by quickly and despite you calling dibs on paying the entrance fee, Jake is slapping his card down faster than you can even open your fanny pack. You shoot him a glare and he gives you a smirk that sends most girls falling to their knees. Keyword, most.

Jake pushes Avery’s stroller through the zoo while you walk beside him, making light conversation and getting to know each other as you make your way to where the kids' activities are located. 

You learn that he comes from an abusive home. His dad was an alcoholic who passed from liver failure not that long ago, flooding the family with relief. He has three sisters, plenty of nieces and nephews. You learned grew up on a ranch which explains how his legs bow out the smallest amount, his favorite color is green (of course), his favorite tv show, food, even the book he read recently. You told him about your life too, growing up in eastern Tennessee, your parents' accident, living with Penny and helping her raise Amelia to the teen she is today, your time in Vermont, why you picked education to go into. Jake easily saw you as someone that he wanted to spend more time with, it was a no brainer that you would be the one watching his daughter when he needed it. Hell, he could even see Avery calling you mom one day, in the distant future of course. 

You three had finally made it to the area of the zoo where the activities were being held and you take Avery out of her stroller and sit with her in your lap while Jake sits next to you. The warmth of your skin against his making him hotter than the San Diego sun. 

For the next hour you two sit, comfortable with each other while Avery mashes paint around the ziplock bag she was working on. Thankfully for the sun it dried quickly and you drew out a few animals on the rainbow colors covering the page. 

At only 4 months old, Jake is in such awe at how you talk to and how you treat Avery and even at how Avery responds to you. The babble that you do back to Avery, how sweet you talk to her, how she reaches for you, all of it. Just melts Jake. 

The time to walk back to the truck wasn’t long enough, in his opinion, and he was already planning a trip back when she was a little older and would appreciate it a little bit more. 

You put Avery in her carseat while Jake breaks down her stroller and puts it into the bed of his truck before shutting the lift gate. “Still up for coffee?” he asks just as you’re shutting the back door.

“If you are.” you say and give him a smile, he opens your door for you and offers you a hand and you just laugh and take it before hopping up into the cab and once you’re settled he shuts the door and walks around to his own side.

The drive to the local coffee shop he had in mind was surprisingly quick to get to, granted he did speed a little through some yellow lights to get there.

You don’t bother getting Avery’s stroller out, choosing instead to just undo her car seat and carry her in that way since she was sleeping peacefully already. You tell Jake your order and he stands in line while you go and pick out a table, a little table in the corner and you set Avery’s carrier the table after making sure that it was sturdy enough that you didn’t need to worry about bumping the table and having her shift too much. 

Jake comes and takes a seat since it’ll take a minute for the food to be prepared. “They didn’t have hazelnut, is caramel okay?” he asks since you had asked for a hazelnut latte.

“Caramel is perfect, actually. It’s my favorite flavor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” he says with a smile and leans forward on the table and you give him a kind smile back.

“So dad-man. Think I’m fit enough to watch Avery for you?” you ask and he chuckles.

“I think you’re qualified to do more than that, but yeah. She loves you, I love you-oh I uh-” his ears redden and you laugh.

“No I get it, don’t worry.” you say as his name is being called for the food and drinks. You watch him walk away, shamelessly checking him out as he goes, you bite your lip softly but look away quickly when he turns around to walk back. 

“One chicken salad on a croissant with blueberry applesauce and an iced caramel latte with oat milk for Saturn,” he says, setting your tray down and you laugh and he sets his down before pulling his chair out. “And one of the exact same thing for me.”  

“Real original dad-man.” you say as you take a sip of the latte and you moan, “this is so good.” 

His breath hitches when he hears the sound and he shakes it off with a laugh, “yeah, the coffee here is the best I’ve had in the area. It’s nice that it isn’t too far from base or from home either.”

“Might just have to go a little out of my way in the morning to come here.” you say and he laughs.

“So, how did you get the nickname Saturn?” he asks as he takes a bite of his sandwich and a sad smile forms on your face.

“I got it from my dad. I don’t know why I took such a liking to the planet, but I grew up loving space. I wanted to be an astronaut, actually. He took me to our local planetarium and it was the first planet that I actually saw in the telescope and there was just something about the rings that really drew five year old me in. I wanted saturn everything. I even went as the planet for Halloween one year.” you say and he laughs.

“What were you just a yellow ball with circles around you?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah pretty much, let me see if I have a picture.” you pull out your phone and he glances at your lock screen and sees it’s you and another girl kissing with fireworks in the background. He quickly looks away as you get into your phone, feeling an unnecessary stab to his heart. “Here it is!” you say and show him little you with a little bucket of candy, the biggest grin on your face and he laughs and takes your phone so he can look at it closer.

“You were adorable, what happened?” he teases and you make an offended noise and snatch your phone back.

“I’m still adorable! I’m just… grown now.” you say and he laughs.

You both sit there for a while longer, Jake running out to get stuff for a bottle before coming back in to see you already holding her and waiting for him to return. “You want me to feed her?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Nope. I got her.” you saw and take the bottle, she latches quickly to it and starts drinking away. “When you have me around you are doing nothing. Just relax, daddy. Let someone else take care of her.”

He feels relief at that statement, but also useless since all he’s done for the past almost month is take care of this little human that he helped to create. But watching you take care of her, so effortlessly, was so easy for him. He didn’t expect to be able to relinquish control of this aspect of his life so easily, and yet, it was almost second nature to him.

“So, are you able to start watching her on Monday? I return to duty then and-”

“Jake, it’s fine. I do nothing all day aside from helping out Penny at the bar. I would be more than happy to come and spend all day with this little baby.” you say, looking down at Avery with a smile on your face.

“I’m not, stealing you away from anyone am I? Boyfriend.. Girlfriend?” he fishes and you laugh.

“My girlfriend lives back in Vermont. She doesn’t have any plans to come visit any time soon so as of right now, the only person you and Avery are stealing time from is myself. But there’s nothing I can’t do with her that I couldn’t do by myself.” you say and he nods.

“How long have you two been together?” 

“Just over two years. We celebrated our anniversary just before I moved out here.” you say, looking back up at him and you see the look change in his eyes and you offer him a small smile.

“What about you? Any girlfriend that’s going to come out of the frameworks?” you tease and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, not really looking to date now that I have this little one to be thinking about.” he says and you nod, the conversation ending there. 

After Avery is done with her bottle you burp her and lay her back in her car seat. It’s nearing 3pm already and you have to get to the bar soon for your shift. Jake carries Avery back to the car while you run into the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face. 

You knew things were rocky with your girlfriend back home, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was get involved with your new boss, even if he was one of the most genuine and kind men you’ve ever met.

You make your way to Jake’s truck and he’s waiting for you outside, windows already rolled down so the back door can be shut and Avery won’t bake in the Californian sun. He opens your door for you again and you smile and climb up in the truck.

It’s a short drive to the bar and you hesitate getting out, you look back at him with your lip already between your teeth and you smile. “Thank you, Jake. I had a really great time.”

He returns your smile with a nod, “so did I. And I’m sure that Avery did too.” you laugh and look back at her.

“You’ll have to text me your address before Monday.” you remind him and he nods.

“I will.”

“Alright, well. Enjoy your night, dad-man.” you say, jumping out of his truck and he watches you walk into the bar, leaning his head back against his seat and letting out a deep sigh.

Of course you’re in a relationship.

------------

taglist:

@mandylove1000 @zbeez-outlet @emma8895eb @sinners-98-world @buxkybarnez @classyunknownlover @caidi-paris @classycolorpeach @eugene-emt-roe @mayhemmanaged @missemrose @fighterpilothoe @crystal-lily-101 @pookie-cleary @max-dalton @hisredheadedgoddess28 @elijahmikaelsonbitch @thegoddessc @yourfaveaquarius92 @blueoorchid @archaeologydigit @dempy @missathlete31 @hangmandruigandmav @alana4610 @h-ngm-ns @naya-neneya @desert-fern @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosterbruiser @startrekfangirl2233 @lovinglyeternal @sarahsmi13s @the-ms-mischief @that-one-random-writer @cassiemitchell @roostette @footprintsinthesxnd @roosters-girl @musesownmymind

[monarchofthequeerpotatoes]

out of context @beanthebugboi quotes because they're very funny

(other friends we have for context are d (she/her) sd (they/it/he/she) and s (she/her))

(quotes that aren't signed were bean because this post was supposed to be about them before i started copy and pasting an entire document full of quotes. i dont take credit for any of this apart from stuff i said i just think its funny)

"i was going for "rotisserie chicken" and ended up closer to "roadkill""

"hell yeah i have a rice krispie spine"

"would you recognise my hands if they weren't full of bird?"

“I just found out that vegetables don’t exist, reality is crumbling, YOU EXPECT ME TO BE POSITIVE??” “Bean, Bean, Bean, Bear Grylls should have taught you by now, the three rules to survival are: positivity, positivity, positivity. How else will we survive in this crumbling, vegetable-less universe?”- @sarkylittlemonster

“….y’know I was just doing an impression of Hooty singing Wii music when….”

“For the last time, it is NOT cannibalism”

“AWWWW I love thatttttt it is absolutely perfect” “Ah yes beqn >:]” -D “I am going to hold your imaginary pet peacocks hostage”

“I saw it in your bass music” (in a dream that @forest-fairy-wren had)

“Do you have a lot in common with a pine cone?”

“GHOSTBUSTERS” "THOSE BUSTARDS” - @sarkylittlemonster

“Yay for not getting stabbed”

“How dare you insult my deep-fried root vegetables” “HA, vegetables don’t exist, and neither does taste, it appears” - @sarkylittlemonster “IT IS TOO DAMN EARLY FOR THIS” “IT’S TOO DAMN EARLY FOR ONION RINGS BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP YOU DID IT” - @sarkylittlemonster

“I’m so honoured I just choked on my own spit”

“Oh you play violin, that’s so cool!”- @sarkylittlemonster “*Screams in violist*”

“Good morning, fbi's most and least wanted! How are we all today? :D” - @forest-fairy-wren “…I need to know who’s who lol. Am I most wanted or least wanted” “You're probably right in the middle :D” - @forest-fairy-wren

“Why the heck are you talking like that :)” “Whatever do you mean? I have always talked in this manner” - @forest-fairy-wren “THOU MUST NOT ASKETH QUESTIONS CONCERNING OUR WAY OF SPEAK.” - s “…Alright I shall not asketh.”

“Please close your balls of sight and rest.” - @forest-fairy-wren “D o   n o t   c a l l   e y e s   t h a t   e v e r   a g a i n” “Very well I shall call them seeing orbs instead.” - @forest-fairy-wren “Yeah that works”

“I- she’s so pretty. So flippin majestic. *gay screaming*”

“I have no idea what conversation i just walked into but it seems interesting :)” “Whale reproductive organ size debate” - S

“Sleep is cool, Bean! It's like a free trial of death :D” - @forest-fairy-wren “Mhm really selling it there lol”

“OMFG GUYS I was listening to Will Wood (as one does, when one is trying to get through a stupid math project) and just as 6up 5oh Cop-Out started, an ambulance passed, and the siren went perfectly with the music nsafjhdsklfhdakshfg I literally had to pause the music because I was like “wait why does the siren bit sound different”

“Oh I’m sorry let me just-” *becomes ilikemenderman*

“...so his tongue is a breadstick revolver?”

“Hi, I’m back, also what the fuck”

“Is that the same as t4t but with cannibalism?”

“You’re averaging 120 children per wife lmao” “Who are you to judge, cannibal”- @sarkylittlemonster “If they were sour, you'd probably eat them :(“ - @forest-fairy-wren

“Witchcraft is talking* to my sage plant so it’ll be better at getting rid of bad vibes)” “*nicely, not the way Crowley does” “Well, you’ll never become Crowly at this rate, BUCK UP AND THREATEN THEM” - @sarkylittlemonster “Witch duties take precedence over gender envy rn. I refuse to put any negativity in my sage plant 😤”

“Wedding?”-S “For the last time S I am NOT marrying Ronaldo” “I- lol, what?” -D “Yesterday, when Uni and Wren decided to have a double wedding with Vox and Akira, S decided to make it a triple wedding and tried to marry me off to Christiano Ronaldo. I hissed at her, passive-aggressively played a country song about a girl and her bestie murdering her husband, and then ran away to live in the woods and become Squirrel Girl”

“……so I have to marry a football guy, an evil capitalist TV screen, and someone’s cat-eared OC???” “Sounds like a Tuesday”-me

“Is Ronaldo in hell?” “I’m the one who sent him there” -S

“...are you a writer or a serial killer” “I am a professional multitasker” -S

“Guys I was NOT DROWNING ANYONE”

“Star why are you lobotomizing pencils”

“Rt54re4” (his cat)

“I have literally zero flirting skills, I cry when I get mad, and sometimes I sit on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night eating sliced cheese out of the packet. I am the opposite of simp-able”

“Fear not sib, for I am thick-skulled. Also I think it's currently Uni's turn with The Sanity so dw I didn't damage it.”

“Y'all I think I resurrected a fish yesterday. Also there are sooo many Hamilton songs stuck in my head rn (again), and I really really really want some chocolate rocks.”

“*scurries away with a slightly larger number of bones than the average human*”

“I just want to point out thstI sond a my bones, they wrre not stolen :D” - @forest-fairy-wren “I think Weeb is having a stronk”

“…I may or may not have just consumed a dead gnat.”

“I'm dysphoric AND disabled, Body is my comfort song”

“nOPE no no fuck no I will kick you in the kidneys” -Bean “Not my crunchy kidneys :(“ - @sarkylittlemonster “What.” - @forest-fairy-wren 

“Anyway, gonna go stick the lil fella in the microwave, brb :D”

“Every uterus should come with a free lavender-scented microwavable plushie”

“The goop is indeed goopy”

[sagesolsticewrites]

Today Was A Fairytale | Austin x fem!reader

You decide to surprise your boyfriend in Australia on Valentine’s Day! ❤️ 

a/n: Happy (belated, oops) Valentine’s Day! This is a week late, I know, and I’m so sorry y’all! But thank you guys so, so much for your patience 🫶 I do have plenty more WIPs that I’m working on, and I hope to have those out sooner rather than later for y'all. And my requests are open if y'all want to send anything in! ☺️ For this fic, covid doesn’t exist for Plot purposes lmao

Word count: 2k (technically 1,999 but shhhh)

Warnings: some allusion to sex towards the end (might qualify as fade-to-black smut??), I think that’s it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

Masterlist | add yourself to my taglist!

As you stand on the escalator, hands firmly gripping your carry-on to keep yourself from shaking with excitement, you scan the area near baggage claim as it appears bit by bit, keeping your eyes peeled for a sign with your name on it.

Your sweeping gaze finally snags on your name, the flimsy paper in the hands of an older, very fashionable woman, with a bright smile and cheerful eyes peering through cat-eye glasses. Your smile widens, and you wave to get her attention as you step off the escalator onto the polished concrete floor. You still can’t quite believe that Catherine Martin herself was the one meeting you here.

You greet her, a little starstruck, before she sweeps you into a hug.

“Darling! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She smiles, “You know Austin honestly hasn’t stopped talking about you since we started filming,” she teases as you made your way over to get the rest of your things.

You laugh shyly, “Well, that’s very sweet to hear, and I apologize on his behalf.” Laughter fading, you continue in a more sincere tone, “And thank you so much for letting me come on set for a couple days, I can only imagine how complicated it must be to organize that.”

Catherine waves the compliment away, helping you get your suitcase off the carousel with ease.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart! It’s very sweet that you want to surprise him, and I’m so glad we could help.”

Catherine explains the plan in the Uber on the way to your hotel: take a few days to recover from the jet lag from the 19-hour flight, and on Friday — Valentine’s Day — you’d be taken to set to surprise your boyfriend. 

After Catherine makes sure you’re safely in your room and assures you that you can call her if you needed anything — “absolutely anything, darling!” — before tomorrow, you finally allow a grin to overtake your face as you collapse onto the bed. As Valentine’s Day gifts go, you were fairly certain this wasn’t a bad choice.

You and Austin had been dating for almost a year, since March of 2019. Originally just your childhood friend, a friendship born of proximity when your family moved next door to his, your feelings for each other had blossomed into what was honestly the healthiest relationship you had ever been in. You had been with him when he was auditioning, when he was cast as Elvis, you had watched as he practically lived and breathed Elvis in the months leading up to the moment he left for principal photography in Australia. He was crushed that your first Valentine’s Day together was doomed to be long-distance, and as he kept saying how much he wished the two of you could celebrate together, the idea dawned on you.

And now here you were in Australia, on the opposite side of the world from your home in Anaheim, getting ready to surprise your boyfriend who was currently playing one of the most famous men in history.

-

You spend most of the first couple days of your trip sleeping, your body insisting on ten-hour naps to recover from the flight through seven time zones. You’re able to pencil in some sightseeing, too, though by the time Valentine’s Day rolls around you’re even more anxious to see Austin; you’re the closest you’ve been to seeing him in a month but the distance between your hotel and his set seems impossibly far.

Catherine is your escort once again, and on the way to set she explains the plan to you, detailing the scenes they’ll be filming and where you could fit in, and making it incredibly clear that pretty much everything you’re about to see is strictly for your eyes only; they couldn’t risk a leak only a month into filming.

Admittedly, you’re a little starstruck being on a movie set, and it’s all a bit of a blur as Catherine rushes you over to hair & makeup to get you ready for the scene. The crew slips you into one of their many spare dresses, and they get to work making your hair and makeup era-appropriate. As one of the hair stylists — a kind woman whose name you learned was Gail — is in the process of getting your hair into pincurls, the door to the hair and makeup trailer sweeps open. Every eye in the room swings towards the motion as Baz steps inside.

As in, Baz Luhrmann.

Legendary, acclaimed director.

In the hair and makeup trailer.

And he walks right over and gives you a hug (as best he could with you in the makeup chair trying to stay as still as possible, at least).

“Y/N! Happy Valentine’s Day, we’re so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you so much for helping organize this, Baz!” You smiled. “I really hope I’m not disrupting the schedule or anything too much.” You had gotten to meet Baz a handful of times as Austin was prepping for the role, and he was one of the sweetest people you knew. 

“Oh, it was nothing.” He waves away the compliment, “I love a good surprise, and I’m glad I’ll get to see you two crazy kids back together. I just wanted to say hello and make sure you were doing okay. You guys take care of her, alright?” He directs the last part to the crew, and bids you farewell with a “See you on set!”

Soon enough, your hair and makeup are the best they’ve ever been, and you’re almost afraid to move for fear of ruining the gorgeous blue gingham dress they’ve given you as you’re escorted to set by an assistant.

You take your seat in the front row, trying your hardest to hide your excitement as you catch a glimpse of Austin talking with Baz just offstage.Your breath catchesin your throat as you take him in. After not seeing him for a month, seeing him in person is in itself a bit of a shock, but underneath the slightly baggy pink suit and effortlessly disheveled hair, you see the sharp focus in his eyes that's something entirely Austin. Time is a blur as the rest of the scene is set up, and the last thing you hear before Baz calls “action!” is his suggestion to Austin to find someone in the audience to focus on. 

You holdyour breath as he, Xavier, and Adam walk onto the stage, the smudged eyeliner bringing out the blue of his eyes as he scans the crowd. You fight to keep the smile from your face in anticipation as his gaze sweeps past you, then snaps back as he does a double take. The Elvis facade fades, the anxious fidgeting and nervous manner he’s put on entirely forgotten as he freezes, his eyes locked on yours.

“Y/N?”

You nod, unable to hide your grin any longer as you give him a playful wave, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Aus.”

In a flash, the guitar that had been looped around his shoulders is set carefully on the stage and he jumps down to the floor to greet you, the cast and crew cheering him on.

You let out a breathless laugh as you’re swept up in his arms and spun around in a circle, his grip strong and secure and safe as always. As your feet finally hit the ground, Austin’s gaze sweeps over you, taking in your light blue gingham dress and 50s pin curls, before his eyes meet yours again and you’re finally, finally pulled in for a kiss. 

It’s a sign of how much you missed each other that by the time you pull away your carefully-applied, no doubt expensive, movie-star-quality lipstick is smudged beyond repair, and Austin’s artfully disheveled hair is a mess. Some part of you cringes slightly at the thought of messing up the hair and makeup crew’s hard work, but a much larger, much louder part of you — the part that had been missing him since the second he’d left — couldn’t care less.

“I— Sweetheart,” Austin laughs with a tinge of disbelief, still holding you tight as though you might slip away at any second, “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.” You say simply, grinning. “And I knew how upset you were that we’d be missing our first Valentine’s together, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You flew all the way to Australia to surprise me?” He asks, as if to make sure he was hearing you right.

You nod, cheerfully humming an affirmative.

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re ridiculous,” is all he says before pulling you in for another warm hug, lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you, too” you whisper back, tucking your face into the crook of his neck to hide your growing smile, toes curling at the familiar smell of his cologne — something warm and woody that you had gotten him for Christmas last year.

After what seems like not enough time at all, your very professional boyfriend regretfully pulls away — after all, he is here for a job. Baz is kind enough to let you stay and watch them film several scenes, but after seeing how distracted Austin is (he’s trying to stay professional, he really is, but you’re here and he’s missed you so much) he cuts the day short, offering everyone a chance to celebrate their Valentine’s Day properly. 

You’re glad you brought one of your nicer dresses with you, because that night Austin takes you out on the first non-Skype date you’ve had in a while. The two of you end up at a fairly nice restaurant, talking for hours as if you haven’t been apart at all. In lieu of the typical red roses, he gives you a paper rose to add to your collection back home; a tradition that began with your very first date, and one that you hope continues for as long as possible.

You spend a romantic evening together, followed by an even more romantic night, and the contentment you feel waking up the next morning in Austin’s arms is incomparable to anything else on earth. You don’t open your eyes at first, content with the feeling of your head on his chest, legs tangled together, his arms pulling you in closer, but you can’t help but smile up at him as you feel his eyes on you, and the softness in his gaze as you meet his eyes nearly takes your breath away.

Your hand, from its resting place on Austin’s chest, works its way up his neck to cup his cheek, almost as if you need to confirm that he’s really there, solid and warm next to you. You bite your lip to hide a smirk as your eyes catch on the marks scattered across his skin — proof of your, er, very enthusiastic reunion the previous night. He leans into your touch as you whisper a soft “good morning” to him, and he returns the greeting, mumbling it against your lips as you’re pulled in for a kiss.

He glances quickly at the alarm clock on the nightstand, making a note of the time: barely 9am. “What time is your flight, again?”

You mentally file through your sleep-scattered brain for your flight information. “My flight leaves at 1, but I wanna try to be at the airport around 11, maybe 11:30ish?”

He nods, seemingly incorporating that information into whatever idea he has brewing in his head. “I don’t have to be on set until noon,” he says, taking on a suggestive tone as he moves to hover over you, “Any ideas on how we could spend all this time?”

Grinning, you pull him down into a bruising kiss, making a mental note to send flowers to the hair and makeup crew as an apology for the marks they’re going to have to cover on him after this morning.

All in all, not a bad Valentine’s Day.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper @hallecarey1 @adoreyouusugar @iheartcbe @nora-nexus-34 @finelineskies @dontbesussis @fangirl-imagines

[00ops1e]

Sunshine for Everyone pt.2

Pricefield! Fluff!

Life is Strange - Max Caufield x Chloe Price

After saving Chloe at the expense of Arcadia Bay, our favorite girls are forced to flee their hometown. It soon becomes apparent that while they can run from the storm, running from their desires just isn't plausible.

click here for part one

“I swear I could sleep forever,” Max mutters, cuddling into the blanket further. The motel had proven to be a good idea, using someone else’s hot water and blankets was always nice. The pair were too tired to even notice the television only had four channels, or that the mattress was a little lumpy. Maybe things just weren’t so bad if they had each other.

“We can stay as long as you'd like,” Chloe trails off, “s’cheap enough anyways we deserve a vacation.” she babbles with eyes half closed, no longer sure of her words. The girls lay in bed, inches between. The last room available happened to be a single, and she had managed to haggle the price down, so fucking score again. When the man in the office mentioned the single bed, Chloe felt something flutter deep in her gut. It was a giddy, childlike feeling, but muddled with some sort of anxiety. 

Max shifted in the bed, mind still racing, “Will you hold me?” She heard the words fall from her lips before they even registered in her brain. The question appears to catch both girls off guard. It hung in the air for a moment, Max began to babble, face growing red, “I- 'm sorry I really didn’t mean to… I just, I can't stop it's all too much. I don’t know what's w-wrong with me.”

Without hesitation, she pulls the smaller girl into her arms, as if rehearsed, as if Chloe had been waiting a lifetime. Instantly the tension evicts Max’s body. The sweet musk of her shampoo, perfume, whatever it was completely enveloped Chloe. Holding her tight just felt natural, like all was well with the world. Comforting others has never come easy for Chloe, always awkward, never knowing what to say or do. Not with Max though, she made everything easy. Existing with her felt like hearing an old song and singing along perfectly, yet recalling none of the lyrics. She traces small circles into Max’s back, the smaller girl somewhat buried in her chest.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Chloe starts, angry at the world for putting her max through all of this, “y-you didn't ask for any of this. You shouldn't have seen even half the shit you did. Max, I swear to you if there was a way I could take it all away, I’d do it.” Max looks up at her, tears in those beautiful blue eyes threatening to spill. A pang of fear hits Chloe right in the gut. Did she say something wrong? Did Chloe cause those tears? 

She begins to ramble, “Shit, I’m not saying I'm not glad I found you again, or that you shouldn’t have saved me or-or anything like that,” a sense of urgency laced her tone, god she was supposed to be helping not making it worse. “I just- I wish I could fix it, seriously Max. I am so so fucking happy you’re with me again. I don’t know, I guess, i-i just feel like it's all my fault” Her voice thickened towards the end, holding back a sob. ‘This is not about you Chloe,’ she thinks, reprimanding herself for being so selfish. But the guilt had been festering, gnawing at her organs like some feral dog with a bone. She was the reason the whole world had turned upside down.

“C-Chloe,” Max mumbled, sitting up to look at her properly. With shaky hands, she took the girl's face in her hands. Forcing Chloe to meet her eyes, hands lingering on her cheeks a bit too long before pushing the messy blue hair behind her ears. Her hands rest languidly on Chloe’s shoulders, reassuring her somehow. Max sat and contemplated her next words before answering, “None of this was you, okay? This is some freak-supernatural stuff okay? I do not blame you. Do you hear me? Please don't ever think that. I’d go through it all again if it meant I had you. Chloe, you're my best friend.”

It was like Max was able to reach inside and undo the knots in Chloe’s stomach. No one had ever done so with such ease, such grace. Not even Rachel, though that hurt to admit. Max just knew her, regardless of the years apart. Deep down, way below the rough punk girl exterior, Chloe was still the same little girl Max had grown up with. A soft smile inched its way to the surface, god how could she not smile looking at her? The way her hair fell, perfectly framed those soft doe eyes. Those fucking freckles and long lashes. The way Max would look up at her, eyelids heavy, how could anyone keep a straight face? Chloe hadn’t realized she was staring until she felt a soft squeeze on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Chloe mustered up, embarrassment pricking at her cheeks. She shifted in place, yearning for closeness once more. These feelings, they can't be normal. Max’s words reverberate in her skull, ‘my best friend’  they stung a little. Those ten letters formed a lump in her throat, a pit in her chest. The words had some sort of mal effect on her, and she just couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Chloe once again chalked it up to just feeling weird about Arcadia.

The blank look in Chloe’s eyes prompts Max to speak. Whatever had her in such a trance could not possibly be kind. Max used a shaky hand to brush the girl’s cheek, “Do you think we could get some sleep now?” she proposed, pulling Chloe from the complexities that danced in her mind. 

She nods silently and lays her head on the pillow, wriggling slightly to settle in. Max drapes an arm around her shoulders, pulling that mess of blue hair onto her chest. Upon feeling the weight on her chest, Max lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. This was a comfort unknown to her, never before had she felt this light. An absentminded hand travels to Chloe’s hair, despite all the bleach and dye damn it was soft. With her fingers tangled in the blue locks, everything felt right in the world.

“Everything that happened was so terrible,” Max breathes, wanting to offer one final comfort before slumber claimed them both, “It was so terrible, we’re not okay. But we’re gonna be. We can work through it Price, we’re a team and-and we can heal together. I’ll help you, we don't have to face things alone.” max consoled, her voice wavering ever so slightly. 

“It's you and me against the world Caufield, now and forever,” Chloe assured, tightening her grip on the smaller girl, as if afraid she’d get snatched away, “seriously max, what would I do without you?” she let out a small chuckle before closing her eyes and passing out, still entangled with her best friend.

I have yet to begin writing the rest of this (call of duty brainrot is taking over my life) but i promise my google doc has many many ideas. stay tuned ig? lots of love, liz

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Saw a post about wanting headcannon asks… so I have arrived! Any hcs for our boy Loui? Or Florida, or York, or Gov, or anyone really. I like reading about people hcs

YESSSS I DOOOOOO :) <— not a threatening smile dw

Louisiana:

Florida has to make sure that he tells Loui if he’s leaving somewhere cuz otherwise, Loui will very much “internally” panic.

Give him cuddles 🥺 Or let him cuddle you cuz he loves it either way 🥺😭

He will get attached if you make him feel like he’s actually worth something (totally not projecting here). That has however led to some toxic friendships/relationships. Ones where he didn’t want the person to leave, so he did everything he could to make them happy even if it hurt him. (I’m not projecting shut the fu-)

Loves inviting friends over for dinner/parties

Has a catahoula leopard dog/german shepherd mix named Beau, and a black cat named Misty and he loves them both so much.

Has a habit of forgetting that he already told a story, and then he tells it again with the same amount of enthusiasm he did the first time. His friends still listen though cuz they love him and it’s adorable.

Glass bones and paper skin. Lil boy gets hurt very easily but selects the ignore button. Bent his ankle in a way it shouldn’t be able to bend? Ignore. Gets stabbed repeatedly on an evening walk in NOLA? Tis’ but a scratch. Falls off a cliff into raging waters? I’m not dead yet!! Someone tries to help him? "YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLED OF ELDERBERRIES-"

At this point, he’s only still alive and existing out of pure spite and stubbornness.

Gets spooked by everyone and everything.

He probably does that thing where he creeps up on people, stops when they turn around, continues when they turn back around, and then tackle-hugs them. Sometimes though, he’ll just get snatched midair and cuddled to death :]

Florida:

Makes time for him and Loui to cuddle

Actually a decent cook (he sorta lives with Loui-), but he enjoys chaos and fire so. Don’t let him in the kitchen alone.

Actually has an okay relationship with his father (wow me not giving someone daddy issues 😨😰😱), but doesn’t talk to him much. He’s kinda pissed about how much his father neglected him though.

Surprisingly, he knows when it’s not the time to joke around.

Strong man 💪 can pick up all of his friends. Yes even Texas (tbf, he’s just tall he doesn’t weigh that much but it’s still impressive-)

Great hugs 9.5/10. I say only 9.5/10 cuz he might slip you a little danger noodle for a friend.

Gov:

TIRED AF SOMEONE GET THIS MAN IN BED (NOT LIKE THAT-) AND GET HIM SOME DAMN WATER. AGUA. EAU. WASSER. FOR THE SAKE OF HIS ORGANS I BEG.

Has really bad back pain from being hunched over his desk all the time. His joints be poppin 24/7. He’s a lil crispy if you will.

Double jointed mf. Bendy bitch.

Gets treated like absolute sh*t back at the White House. He really needs better handlers.

Can’t cook for sh*t. He’s been known to make backward pb and j sandwiches and pour coffee on the bottom of the mug. Tbh he could probably cook if he wasn’t so sleep deprived.

Low iron and dizzy spells and chronic migraines. How he’s still alive I have no idea.

New York:

My precious baby I’m so nice to him. And since I’m so nice to him: I’ve given him anemia, insomnia, an iron deficiency, and asthma <3

Mans has to stand up REAL slow cuz otherwise he’ll fall and maybe pass tf out.

His brothers are always making sure that he isn’t just dropping dead to a dizzy spell.

He has poliosis :’D

He’s helpful but in the worst ways possible. If someone leaves an empty cup on the counter whilst he’s around. Cuz he will stare at them and slowly nudge it towards the edge of the counter.

————————

[huntingteeth]

What do you think about the world - where do you find the most beauty in it? What inspired you to begin writing, and what prompted you to write about Sleep Token? What's your favorite food?

i get really in my head sometimes. sometimes when i go to restaurants, i have meals and i think, “i can make this better,” and i go home and workshop the recipes until i get it the way i pictured it in my head when i was back at the restaurant. i like to take cherry tomatoes and slice them into tiny circles and lay them artfully until the cover the surface of the plate, little pops of color, reds and yellows and deep purples, and julienne basil leaves and scatter them across, and drizzle it with good olive oil and balsamic vinegar and crack a ball of burrata on top, flakey sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. the insides of the burrata mix with the oil and vinegar and makes a light dressing and it’s maybe what i think happiness is supposed to feel like.

i think i write because otherwise what do i do with all the thoughts in my head? i feel like i’m doing three things at all times; when i write, i usually have a video playing on the television, and then there’s the writing, and then there’s all the thinking. sometimes i watch a video on the television and then i watch videos on my phone at the same time because there’s too much thinking. i don’t know if anyone picked up on this, but i’m an incredibly anxious person. i think it’s easier to filter out the worst parts of my personality on the internet, but the anxiety is the worst part. at my worst point, i was convinced my house would burn down if i so much as looked at the oven so i stopped using the oven. i pretended it didn’t exist in my house and it worked for a while.

all of my degrees are in education; it’s great if you want to understand how the world works but it’s bad if you want to understand how the world works. the thing is that everyone has a perspective and not everyone is allowed to share it. it’s a gift to be able to share my perspective, even if it’s sleep token fanfiction on the internet, and i think that when you read what i write you’re able to get a sense of the things that i value: community, prioritization of people, and the intrinsic magic in the parts of life that are not magical.

i guess found sleep token in october or november of last year through tiktok, and then started listening to their music, and then i sought out the fandom. and i guess, as they say, the rest is history.

i take a lot of pictures, because i like the idea of a personal history, of taking a visual record of the marks you left in the world. i like to take pictures of myself in places as if to say, “i’m here, i’m here.” i like to take pictures of my food, both dishes i’ve made and dishes that i’ve ordered. this, too, is a type of history, i think: a documented list of the ways in which i’m allowed to take up space in the world.

a thick slice of tomato. the crunch of toasted bread, slathered in butter. green beans cooked down, simmering on a stove like generations of relatives have done in the past. cornbread and pinto beans and collard greens. yogurt with fruit and granola and a dollop of lemon curd. plump portobello mushrooms fresh off a grill. zucchini with sear marks. chocolate eclairs.

take equal parts butter and flour and make a light roux. add in heavy cream, panic because it curdles at first, but keep whisking it in. it’s going to work out. keep adding cream until you have an amount of sauce that makes your heart full. add it freshly ground black pepper. no, more than that. no, more than that. the béchamel should be flecked heavily with black pepper. there’s as many spots of black pepper as there are thoughts in your head. add in sliced sundried tomatoes, the dry ones. not the ones packed in oil that look like little organs and make your stomach turn. pour in a little bit of starchy pasta water. toss your pasta, an interesting shape, in the sauce. plate it, dust it with just the barest amount of parmesan cheese. you don’t need as much as you think. squeeze a wedge of lemon overtop all of it. flakey salt. take a bite. you don’t need anything else.

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

We exist…

Summary: Part 2 of exploring Mountains asexuality (can totally be read as stand alone)

Mountain is the quiet type of ghoul, gentle and considerate. And normally there is no problem with that. But when he hears the others talking about sex he spirals. Because what good is a creature of sin and lust who doesn’t want to have sex?

OR

Mountain having an identity crisis and finding out that he is asexual, then having a crisis again, Aether always being there for him, lots of crying and cuddling ahead!

no smut, only kissing and cuddling tw: talk about sex (very brief in the beginning), self deprecating thought and self hatred

Read it below the cut!

“Oh come on like you and Cirrus didnt fuck on the kitchen table last week.” Dew retorts hitting the multi ghoul while laughing.

“Heyyy that was her idea and we all know you would do it without thinking about it too!”

“Okay you got me there, but at least I haven’t traumatised some poor siblings of sin when you were chasing Rain through the ministry to pin him to the next best wall.”

“Yeah but just because you were to focused on blowing Copia in the confessional.” Rain chimed in.

Everybody was laughing…well everybody except the quiet earth ghoul, who was slowly sinking into himself more and more as the conversation continued.

“Okay okay yes but I just love giving head.”

“Oh we all know that Dew.” Swiss laughed.

“Actually not everybody…” the fire ghoul said teasingly while looking towards Mountain.

On every other day, Mountain could just shrug it off and laugh awkwardly. But not today. He hasn’t been in the right headspace for a few days now, he knows that, but he can’t seem to escape his spiral of bad thoughts. He can’t take this right now.

He stands on wobbly legs.

“Excuse me.” And leaves.

“What the fuck just happened?” Dewdrop asks.

“No idea.” Swiss answers.

“He seemed off for the whole conversation, I just figured he was tired from working in the greenhouse all day.” Aether says while replaying the evening in his head.

“Was I to forward with my flirting? ”

“First of all, that’s terrible flirting and second of all, I thought you two were sleeping together for months now.” Rain comments.

“We aren’t actually, we kiss and make out, but it never goes further. He pushes me away and of course I don’t pressure him into anything but I just don’t understand…everybody likes sex! How can somebody not love it? But Rain surely you had the pleasure to sleep with Mount.”

“No I haven’t…and now that I think about it, probably nobody has ever slept with Mountain that we know of.”

“Sad…” Swiss sighs. “I would love to be fucked by him. We are creatures of sin, of lust! He doesn’t really behave like us at all.”

“Hey hey we don’t know what’s going on inside Mountains head and we can’t judge him for his decisions or feelings. If he doesn’t want to have sex with us, then that doesn’t make him less of a ghoul okay?” Aether clarifies.

“Yes of course Aeth, we don’t think less of him because of it at all. I just want to understand, know why he rejects us.” Rain says.

“Rain is right, it’s his choice and I respect it. Just some times I think that I’m just not sexy enough for him to want me like that.” Dew whispers self consciously. Swiss hugs the little fire ghoul and reassures him that he is sexy as hell.

“I actually remembered something a fan told me once just now, I’m gonna go check in on mount and talk to him.” Aether says while standing up and leaving to go to the earth ghouls room.

**********

“We are creatures of sin, of lust! He doesn’t really behave like us at all.”

That is all the confirmation Mountains brain needs. He is broken, fucked up. A sorry excuse for a ghoul. Not even the one thing that should come natural to him, lust, sex, he is able to do. He’s spiraling downhill pretty fast now, Swiss’ words just gave him the last kick.

Wiping away the tears that have fallen while standing and listening in to his packs conversation, the earth ghouls stormes to his room and burrows himself under copious amounts of blankets.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. He doesn’t answer.

“Hey Mountain, it’s me Aether. Can I come in?

Still he doesn’t respond, he doesn’t want to face his pack just yet.

“Mount? You’re scaring me. I will come in okay?”

Mountain sniffles loudly and the quintessence ghoul can’t help himself any longer and enters the room full of concern. He doesn’t see the earth ghoul at first, only a big shaking lump under the blankets.

“Please go away before I disappoint you all even more than I already have.”

Aethers heart breaks at that.

“What are you talking about Mount? I’m not leaving you like this. You didn’t disappoint anybody. Is this about our conversation earlier?”

He hears Mountain begin to sob now.

“Hey, hey Mounty, is it okay if I join you on the bed?”

Mountain wants to scream at Aether, tell him to go away, to just leave him, but he can’t. He is exhausted and he craves comfort even though he doesn’t think he deserves it anymore.

So he just nods his head and in an instant Aether is beside him on the bed.

“Do you want to cuddle Mounty? I was here to talk with you about something but let’s get you calmed down first okay?”

The small nod the earth ghoul gives him is enough for Aether to climb under the millions of blankets and scoop the gentle giant into his arms.

Mountain tries to turn his head away from the quintessence ghoul, to not let him see his tear streaked face, even though he is sure the other ghoul knows he has been crying.

“It’s okay Mountain, you can cry, I will hold you through it, no judgement what so ever. You can trust me.”

And Mountain buries his face in Aethers neck and just cries and cries. All his feelings of the last days streaming out of him. Aether strokes his back and whispers quietly “It’s okay, let it all out. I have got you.”

After what feels like hours, the sobbing eventually quiets down and Aether looks down at the ghoul in his arms. He cried himself into exhaustion, now sleeping on his chest, face still buried in Aethers neck. He decides to let the earth ghoul sleep, knowing he didn’t get a lot of rest the past week. They will talk in the morning, for now he just strokes Mountains short hair, hoping to sooth him in his dreams. It hurts Aether so much to see the people he loves suffering, he hopes he can help his earth ghoul in the morning.

**********

Mountain slept better than he has in a long time, considering he cried himself to sleep. But the soft rise and fall of Aethers chest and his gentle hand in his hair were the comfort he needed. Like that he could pretend that somebody could actually love him and want to be with him romantically. Mountain isn’t a fool, he knows his wishes won’t become reality, but sometimes he just wants to, no needs to, pretend.

“Good morning sleepyhead.”

Aethers soft voice breaks him out of his trance like state.

“Morning.” He mumbles.

“How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” He says truthfully shaking his head. Mountain doesn’t know what he feels right now. He is grateful for Aethers comfort, but at the same time it hurts to know that it’s all not real.

“And that’s okay Mount. Would you like to talk?”

Glassy green eyes search his purple ones.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about?”

“Maybe about why you thought you disappointed us last night? I’m really worried about you when you say stuff like that you know?”

Mountain groans. “It’s nothing, just let it go.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that with a good conscience. I care about you, hell, the whole pack cares deeply about you, and we want you to be okay. You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t tell anybody if you like to keep it private, but please let me help you.” Aether pleads.

Mountain doesn’t answer for a long time, so Aether shoots his shot.

“It’s about sex, isn’t it?”

Mountain winces at that and curls away from the quintessence ghoul. Seems like Aether hit the nerve.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me Aeth. I’m a failure of a ghoul. I must be broken, I can’t explain it differently. You all talk about how great it is to have sex and that it’s normal to want it. But I don’t want it! I don’t want to have sex, ever. I’m not normal and now you all will never be with me romantically. I should just go back to the pit, I can’t take it. Do you know what it’s like to love somebody and know they will never love you back because of your fucked up brain?”

“Oh Mount, do you think you are unlovable because you don’t want to have sex?”

“Yes of course!” Mountain snaps. “Sex has such a high significance when it comes to romance. You all love sex. We are not compatible Aether. Don’t you understand? I’m not compatible with anyone.” The earth ghoul sobs.

“That is so not true Mountain.” Aether says with a serious voice. “You can’t just assume our feelings for you, you know? And who says that love without sex doesn’t exist? For me it surely exists. I love you. More than a friend, and we have never slept with each other. I love you romantically just like I love Dewdrop and Rain and the rest of the pack. And sure I have sex with them because we like it, but that doesn’t mean that our romantic relationships are worth more than what you and I have, understood? I don’t want to ever have sex with you if you don’t want to.”

Mountain looks up into Aethers purple eyes to find a lie there, but there is nothing but affection and love.

“I…I love you too Aeth! And I love my whole pack.”

The quintessence ghoul smiles brightly at his lover.

“There is something I wanted to tell you actually, something I learned from a human fan a while back. You have heard about the queer community right?”

Mountain nods, waiting for Aether to continue.

“There is something called Asexuality. It’s the lack of any sexual attraction. Asexual people may be disgusted with the idea of having sex, some just don’t care about it and others have it because it can feel good physically. There is a whole spectrum. We can read about it more in detail if you want. If you think that you might be asexual.”

“Asexuality?” Mountains asks in disbelief. “There are people like me out there?”

“Yes there are, love, you are not alone with this.”

Mountain hugs Aether hard and cries with relief.

“I can’t believe it!” He says between sobs. “I’m Asexual!… But what does that mean for our relationships? Just because you can love me without sex, doesn’t mean the others can.”

“Haven’t you noticed Mounty? I can’t speak for them but you have to be blind to not see that they all love you to death. And yes I can’t pretend that some of us don’t have a high sex drive, but that doesn’t interfere with the love we have for you and each other. When we want sex, we search for somebody who wants to have sex with us. And if that is never you Mountain, then that is totally okay and we still love you. You don’t have to feel pressured into anything. We can do all the romantic things that you are okay with. You set the boundaries here. Is holding hands okay? Is kissing okay? Making out? You get the drift.

I think you should definitely talk with everybody about this. Clarify your romantic feelings and your boundaries. You will see that romance and love don’t have to go hand in hand with sexual intimacy. We can be intimate with one another in different ways. ”

“Okay, that’s a lot to process…”

Aether nods understandingly.

“You don’t have to know everything just yet. Do this in your time. You decide when you want to come out to the pack and if you want my help with that. But for now what do you think about more cuddles?”

“I would really enjoy that.” Mountain says and they cuddle into each other, face to face.

“I really want to kiss you right now Aether. I’m just scared that I could send off the wrong message.”

“You won’t. I know how you feel now and sex is completely off the table for me unless you specifically ask for it okay? Can I kiss you now?”

Mountain nods excitedly and they crash their lips together.

There is still a lot to figure out, but right now he feels loved and understood. Mountain has a good feeling about this new chapter in their relationship. And for the first time since forever he has hope that he is worth being loved, even without sex.

[singswan-springswan]

Behold: a little plot bunny that's been bouncing around my head. Another Kanera mermaid AU because I'm obsessed with mermaids and Kanera is love Kanera is life. Kanan's trying desperately not to blow his cover on land but gaslighting his human partner Hera is harder than he thought, especially when he can't help but save her from drowning on the occasion.

words: 1174

~

Hera knew Kanan was a skeptic—and in all fairness, she’d been one too. But before all that, he was supposed to trust her. That’d been the first thing to connect them. Her wild ideas, and his fascinated willingness to go along with them. Of course, Hera knew that he had boundaries, but they’d been difficult to find in the two years he’d been her best friend, and the fact that they existed in the first place was something of a vague notion. In any case, she never thought he’d draw the line here.

“This isn’t me being radical, Kanan.” Hera huffed, smacking the meter stick into her other hand. These days, it felt like a necessary thing to have him take her side, even if there was no solid opposition to take sides against, and even if the argument didn’t involve him. Hera just liked when he supported her, if she was honest. Which was silly. As if he didn’t support her by default as it was, here she stood now, demanding he agree with the one assertion that made him dig his heels in. 

But really, wasn’t he used to her crazy ideas by now? Surely he couldn’t be putting this past her. He should have seen it coming. She should have seen it coming too. Kriff, maybe she really was crazy, but could he at least agree with her?

Kanan propped a handsome cheekbone on his fist, elbow slanted lazily atop the messy table. Hera could stand to tidy things up in here; the galley of her beloved ship was something that should be clean on the regular. But she’d been down here all night with her murder board, and there hadn’t been time before Kanan wandered in for breakfast. He looked bored, having finished his bagel by now. There was a closed-off tolerance behind his eyes: a look so rare it made Hera frantic to have him understand.

She pointed the stick to the whiteboard on her right, where she’d pinned up photographs and newspaper clippings and a flaky array of sticky notes—all very neatly organized from her point of view, though a small voice in her head said that Kanan and perhaps a Hera who wasn’t sleep deprived would not see it the same way.

“This is me being logical. Look, I have it all thought out.”

Kanan—bless him—didn’t patronize her with a pointed sweep of the room. Hera really ought to clean up.

“There’s nothing logical about what happened.” He said in a blunt tone. At least he was focused on her, not indulging the rant with presence alone. 

“Exactly! There’s no logical explanation. Which can only mean my survival was supernatural. We both know I should have died that night—there was no chance for me to make it through the storm on my own, even with all my skill and experience—so whoever rescued me must have been specially gifted and enhanced individuals like that simply don’t exist within the human understanding of the world. Besides, I saw—”

“You imagined.” Kanan interrupted, frowning a little now, to Hera’s immense frustration. “You were half drowned by the time you made it back to shore, and that much more exhausted. On top of that, your imagination is one of the more impressive ones out there.”

Hera glared at him. “I saw,” She insisted. “Things that can’t be explained by a human understanding of the world. And you know me. I’m adaptable.”

Kanan sighed heavily and rubbed a hand against his brow. He was certainly being firm about this line, and not crossing it and such. And that was maddening to Hera. It didn’t fit his pattern of behavior to be so adamant about not believing her. Sure, this might be her craziest idea to date, but a few of her past conspiracy theories came pretty darn close and as she recalled, he’d jumped on board without a second thought. So why was this any different?

Outside, a boat motor rumbled past the marina, and the Ghost creaked pleasantly while it rocked on the wake coming in. Hera could hear the bustle of other mariners on the docks too, mingled with seagull chatter and clanging equipment. This late in the morning, the first round of fishermen were coming to port already. And she still hadn’t convinced Kanan.

“Okay,” He dropped the hands from his face and held them pressed together, fingers pointed her direction. “This is what we know.”

Hera narrowed her eyes, but she let him talk.

“You were stupid enough to take the Phantom out without me when you knew the forecast was bad, and you were caught on the open ocean when a storm rolled in. The dinghy capsized, probably on the seabed by now, with all your equipment—and you were lucky enough to wash up on shore before you drowned completely. Does that sound about right?”

Hera swung the meter stick down to smack a pile of papers in front of Kanan, eliciting a sharp noise and no reaction but an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow. “What I know,” She snapped. “Is that I should be dead. And I have one very specific person to thank for that. I was rescued, Kanan. Someone saved me: someone not human. Someone from the sea.” 

She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself. And although the memories from that night were fuzzy around the edges, she distinctly recalled the moment on the beach, vomiting sea water in the pouring rain, tucked into a pair of strong arms. She remembered babbling in confusion, and she remembered her rescuer vanishing in a brilliant blur of green and gold, before she could properly register the feel of scales beneath her hand. These memories weren’t products of an exhausted brain or overstimulated imagination. She knew she sounded crazy otherwise, but she couldn’t betray herself. Maybe for that reason, she was so determined to convince Kanan. She didn’t want to be crazy and alone.

But he was unimpressed with her stubborn insistence. He wasn’t patronizing, or indulgent—which would have made his disbelief worse—so small miracles. At least he had the decency to be straight with her.

“Hera,” Kanan gave her a flat look. “You know mermaids aren’t real, right?”

There was no budging on that line of his. Hera wanted to pout, cross her arms, insist that no actually she didn’t know that, and neither did he really. But they’d been at this for hours already. She’d started her rant the moment he strolled in—hair still a beautiful mess from sleep—and she’d meticulously explained every node on her murder board with fine detail, so if that hadn’t convinced him even a smidge, then whining definitely wouldn’t.

Instead, Hera drew herself up and gave him her best calculating stare. “What would it take?” She asked slowly, carefully. “To make you believe?”

Kanan crossed his arms and leaned back: the foreign picture of closed off. His lips pinched. His eyes had a wall behind them. “You couldn’t convince me.” He said plainly. “Fairytales don’t exist.”

[themonsterthing]

Sunrises and Solo Polyamory

Today I met god.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but this sweet middle-aged Italian man pushed the freshly plated bread pudding at me. It was a faintly steaming, overwhelming pile of blueberries atop a moist cake layer. A stronger man than I would have crumbled. “Try it!”

I took a bite. I died.

I came back to life, and the Italian was beaming at me. “Yes? Yes!”

This morning I woke up obnoxiously early. I am hitting that old person stage of life (at the ancient age of 36) where you get up hours before everyone else, so by dawn, you’re cranky about no one else being ready to do anything. So I laid in bed, read a chapter of my book, and decided to go find the sunrise. I wandered a pre-dawn empty pier, stumbled upon some enthusiastic elder humans (see? my people) splashing into the freezing water in the fog, their little brightly coloured buoys bobbing after, the only signs they ever existed in this ethereal landscape, before I went to treat myself to sugary caffeine at a nearby bakery.

Bakers, swimmers, and photographers: sacrificing the comfort of a warm bed for our joy in life.

I left heaven clutching a to-go container of pure joy and one perfect hazelnut latte, and drove to the top of the mountain to eat it and watch the fog roll in.

And this, my friends, is why I identify as solo polyamorous.

Solo polyamory is an oft misunderstood branch of non-monogamy. It does not mean I am single but polyamorous — which is often how it is used, even by those who should know better. No, what it means is that, no matter what, I come first. Well, let’s be real, it’s my cat, my art, and then me. The definition of solo polyamory is that our first partner — our “primary” — is ourselves. Even when entangled, we come first.

This does not mean you’re not responsible for your emotions and how they affect others. To be a good human means community, and care. It does not mean I always prioritize my own needs. I am really good at empathy, at compromise. It just means that in considering how I interact with others, I negotiate from that framework.

What that looks like, in my life, is that I live without a partner, and while that may change eventually, I don’t want it to currently. And if I did, I would always need my own bedroom. Why?

Because I want the ability to wake up at 5am, read a chapter of my current book, then decide I want to go watch the sunrise — without worrying about someone in bed next to me. My cat may grumble, but he grumbles whenever I’m not in bed with him. (He’s pretty codependent.)

I want to prioritize sunrises, books, adventures, my cat.

Does it mean I don’t want to wake up next to my loved ones? Not at all. I do. I love it. But instead, I don’t want to take it for granted. I don’t want to get so comfortable, to expect their presence, that when they do choose to sleep over, my priority becomes cuddling up with them. I want my moments with them to be intentional, to be important. The trade off is not getting comfortable and lazy with a person because you know where they’ll be most nights. But that is a trade I find desirable.

I want the interactions in my relationships to be an active choice.

This is a choice I make because of trauma, I know that. Does it make it wrong? No. It is right — for me. Is it your choice? I have no idea, I’m not you. But I hope whatever you choose is healthy for you.

I want sunrises without worrying I’m disturbing my bed mate. I want to listen to music at midnight. I want to go alone to the museum, to wander undisturbed — unless I choose to do it with a companion. And then I get the joy of their presence being a choice, being intentional. I will never take it for granted, because I know it was not a given. I had to reach out, schedule, organize time with them.

It takes more effort, but that is an effort I want to give my humans. And if I need to have a quiet day with someone, where we just sit next to each other in comfortable silence, I can have that too — I just have to ask.

I am not saying it is not possible to find someone perfectly aligned, who would give you comfortable lazy mornings, and wild adventures. I just don’t want that. I don’t want just one. I want wildly different brains, different perspectives, different ideas, different backstories. And thus, polyamory.

The beauty of polyamory, of the way I live my life in general, is that no one person fills all my slots. And so it means I have a lot of room for everyone to find their own niche. Some, it’s sitting quietly. Some, it’s laughing forever over stupid internet jokes. Others, it’s wild sex. Some fill a lot of slots — I often have partners who are sex, love, friendship, adventure — but maybe not art. Maybe not getting excited by plants. I want everyone to flourish in a way that feels best to them, and authentic to our relationship. I am a wildly varied human — I have lots of space for others. And so when I have a space I feel longing for, I reach out to a friend who might fill that need.

Conversely, my friends know the spaces I can take up; the spaces I avoid. I am not your bar friend, but I am your ocean friend. I am not your gossip friend, but I am here for deep conversations at 2am about the meaning of life.

So I choose scheduling over comfort, over ease. I choose to make a lot of effort, I choose to have a deep love affair with my calendar. I choose intention. I choose sunrises, and delicious blueberry bread, and delighted bakers.

(Originally published on Medium, this is the sunrise I found.)

[sailorgreywolf-german]

Just a quick oneshot because I have Napoleonic brainrot. RusPru under the cut (but nothing too intense)

Prussia flopped down on one of France’s gaudy couches. He’d had a long day dealing with ministers and kings. He had ducked out of the invitation to one more meeting with Austria.

The man didn’t seem to sleep; he existed perpetually in court with Prince Metternich. They had marched on Paris and all Austria could think about was organizing the peace treaty in Vienna, as if he’d been leading everything from the beginning. It was maddening and exhausting.

Prussia picked up his feet and planted his muddy boots firmly on the marble top of the fussy side table. He let out a long sigh and stretched his neck.

He had fought Napoleon to be a conqueror and to avenge his loss at Jena, and he hadn’t given himself the time to realize what spending so long on horseback had done to him. His muscles hurt, even though he didn’t regret a single moment.

He made a mental note that the next day he would have to force France to show him where the wine cellar was. He glanced up as he heard the sound of Russia’s footfalls.

The tall man settled himself next to Prussia on the couch. It was tight, but they had spent so much time together in battle that Prussia hardly minded. Russia said, with a little smirk, “We have won the war and you are here alone?” Prussia smirked and replied, “I’m hiding from Prince von Metternich before he pulls me into some hideous negotiation or worse, a party.”

Russia chuckled and replied, “Would you believe that I am doing the same?”

Prussia turned his head to look at him and winced at the pain in his shoulders. Russia noticed, and said immediately, “Are you in pain?” Prussia tried to gently stretch his neck as he said, “Not badly.”

A few years earlier, he would have dismissed the idea of admitting any pain to anyone. But he had learned through the wars that he could trust Russia. Russia spoke softly, almost sweetly, “Let me help you with that. Turn your back to me.”

Without a second thought, Prussia obeyed him. He had found himself remarkably comfortable taking Russia’s direction ever since they had launched the last coalition war to oust Napoleon. He had no idea what Russia intended to do, but he trusted him.

He was surprised when he felt Russia’s hand’s touch his shoulders, his thumbs pressing against his jacket. It took his mind a moment to comprehend that Russia was trying to help by massaging his shoulder muscles.

Prussia quickly realized that the high stiff collar of his uniform and the golden epaulets were getting in his way. He decided to make the job easier for him. He said, as he started to undo his buttons, “Shall I get this out of your way?”

Russia chuckled and said, “My war hero with his big epaulets. How difficult it must be to carry that burden.”

Prussia would have taken it as mockery from anyone else, but he knew Russia meant it as a disguised complement. He succeeded in unbuttoning his uniform and sliding it off. He tossed it gently over the other end of the couch.

Russia’s hands wasted no time in making use of the space. Prussia could feel the touch of the big hands through his thin undershirt. He let out a little breath through his nose as Russia’s thumb found the knot that was giving him such trouble.

It felt good to have it massaged. It felt equally good to be touched by the man who had recently become both friend and trusted ally.

He leaned back to give Russia greater access to the spot that so needed attention. He heard Russia make an amused sound before saying, “Does that feel good?” Prussia answered, as Russia’s thumb found the perfect spot and started diligently working it, “That’s incredible.”

His voice came out like an uncharacteristic purr. He hadn’t realized quite how much he enjoyed the touch, so firm and yet gentle. Removing the jacket felt like it had somehow made him feel hotter.

He was sure that the skin of his shoulders and neck must be turning pink under the other’s hands. The feeling of heat rising under each touch was enough to tell him so, and nature had not blessed him with the ability to hide any emotion.

Russia’s breath made the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the other man leaned forward and said, “Come closer. It will feel even better.”

Prussia didn’t even think he argue; he moved back so that he was practically in Russia’s lap.

“You’re a good little soldier.”

The way the words rolled off of Russia’s tongue sent a pleasant jolt down his spine. Prussia tried to sound nonchalant as he replied, “That is what they say.”

The tone of his voice betrayed the way his heart was starting to race. If he was not in such a good mood from the victory, he might have felt ashamed for reacting so vigorously. One of Russia’s hands trailed around Prussia’s neck, lightly tracing his jaw.

Prussia’s mind felt muddled, but he was still aware enough to know that the gesture served no practical purpose. He asked, “What are you doing?”

A single finger trailed across his cheek, soft and affectionate. Russia answered him, “I’m making you feel better like I said I would.”

Prussia couldn’t disagree with that. The hand vanished from his face, but before he could complain, he felt the hand slide onto his thigh. He let out a low groan before he could stop himself.

Prussia felt like he still didn’t quite know how to react to their new closeness, but he didn’t want to stop it. Russia managed to push on the knot in Prussia’s neck at the same time that he slid his hand up his thigh.

Prussia let out another undignified groan.

Russia asked, “Do you?” Prussia could not remember what he was asking about, the hand teasing his thigh had made it hard to think of anything else. He said, trying to hold onto a thought, “Do I what?” Russia repeated himself, sounding thoroughly amused, “Do you feel better?”

Prussia couldn’t really answer the question, the pain in his neck had faded to the background. He nodded in response. He felt Russia’s lips graze his ear as he said, “I can think of something else that would relax you. Francis’ bed is free right now.”

Prussia turned his head to look at Russia, to make sure that he was understanding him correctly. The slope of Russia’s eyebrows and the smirk on his lips assured him that he was.

Prussia smirked back, “What a wicked notion.” Russia’s eyes were practically sparkling as he responded, “Is it wicked or is it vengeance? That’s what you’ve been asking for: every possible humiliation.”

Prussia opened his mouth to accept when he heard the door open.

The familiar click of a certain pair of shoes on parquet. “There you two are.”

Austria seemed to have spoken before he fully registered what he was seeing. He stopped and stood stock-still for a long moment before his dark eyebrows shot up in a judgmental look that Prussia knew too well. He said, venom dripping from his words, “Am I interrupting?”

Prussia wanted to say yes and to tell him to leave, but he knew that for the sake of the Coalition, it was better if he was civil. Cursing silently to himself, Prussia disentangled himself from Russia and said, “No. What exactly do you want?”

Austria shot a look of barely concealed disdain at Russia before answering, “I think you and I need to have a discussion.” He paused before adding "And put your clothing back on."

[queer-geordie-nerd]

“My mother worked as a librarian in the Children’s Department at the City Library in Zagreb. For me it meant that our house was full of the best children’s books from all over the world. Even better: I would frequently go to storytelling events at the Children’s Library that my mother organized. She would invite some of the best actors in town to read at these events. In an old black and white photograph of me at the age of five, I’m sitting in the audience, completely mesmerized. I was like a porous sponge, craving magic and mystery. I always had the ability and the eagerness to get myself out of the ordinary and into the unreal. That’s where the “truth” lay. I knew that from the beginning.

Since I was a baby, story telling was a necessity and a requirement. Without a story I would refuse to go to sleep. Dad would change his voice to create different characters. He would invent complicated stories of adventure, many with a science fiction twist, his favorite kind. (He was an avid science fiction reader all his life.) My mother’s stories, on the other hand, most often had a tinge of sadness. I craved sadness. “Mommy, mommy, tell me a sad story,” I would beg. Mom would go through the whole Grimm and Andersen repertoire. My favorite was the one about “the little mermaid” who was able to love most intensely, but couldn’t be loved in return because of the simple fact that she, being a mermaid, did not have the lower part of the human body. The sexual connotations were never discussed. So she chose to transform herself into a full-bodied woman (I had no idea what that meant), paying the most horrific price for that choice: from then on she would live with excruciating pain every second of her life. That was, according to the morals of the story, the price of true love. I could not understand the frighteningly misogynist aspect of this sordid tale. I would find out about all that in time. Why did I love that story so much?

The other favorite “sad story” I couldn’t get enough of was the real life story of the little Russian dog Laika who was sent into space and never came back. My mother even put his photo from some newspaper into her journal about me. The story would always end with the sentence: “And the little doggie Laika stayed on the star forever and would never come back to Earth.” I would promptly go into a crying fit over the little doggie every single time. And then I would beg for more: “Mommy, tell me the Laika story again. The part when he stayed on the star.” And again and again, I would cry over the fate of the little dog. And then go to sleep. As if I needed the release of emotion to calm down. As if I was creating my first “emotional memory” exercise. As if I was practicing the art of “keeping the emotion fresh in every take” for the art I didn’t even know existed – film.

To feel. And feel. And feel. As deeply as I could. It would become a life-long obsession. And a forceful need. As if everyday life was not enough with its ordinariness, its shallowness and its banality, I would need a stronger pill: a more intense experience, a deeper emotional impact. Throughout my life, I would always be ready to submit myself to the call of “The Intense Experience” which most often was followed, as is usually the case, by “The Unbearable Heartbreak.” Of course, the moment I discovered that there was in fact a way to fully experience the depth and the pain but then get out of it with a simple push of a button, safe and undamaged, I was hooked. (Safe and undamaged? Who was I kidding?)”

- Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In the World