Dead Fandom Support GrouP

reblog this if you love your cat.

I headcanon Stanton as Welsh-English. More specifically, his mother was a Welsh noblewoman (the eldest and sole child/heir of a Welsh prince) and his father was a Marcher Lord (and maybe even an illegitimate child of John, King of England, who knows, sounds fun). His father’s castle was in the Welsh Marches.

That’s what made me fall in love with astronomy as a kid. That the night sky is a map, and once you know how to read it, it will always be there. You’ll never be lost.

Here's a totally innocuous image of me trying to necromance the Daughters of the Moon by Lynne Ewing fandom back from its slumber. Arise, goddesses. Arise! 🌙

I want to take you everywhere. And do everything with you. And ask you every single question that’s been on my mind for months. And I want to know when you knew what was happening between us and I want to tell you when I knew. And I want to hold your hand in a quiet corner and I want to lie in bed and hear your heartbeat through your chest. I want to bring you coffee in bed. And I want to hear you tell me anything you’ve always wanted to tell someone. Because you know that you’ve met someone who desperately wants to listen.

“Well, we are the stars,” Joan said. “And the stars are us. Every atom in our bodies was once there. Was once a part of them. To look at the night sky is to look at parts of who you once were, who you may one day be.”

“I have torn off the whole of May and June,” said Susan, “and twenty days of July. I have torn them off and screwed them up so that they no longer exist, save as a weight in my side. They have been crippled days, like moths with shriveled wings unable to fly.”