Leo Putin and the Wet Seduction

And so it continues. (Maybe it will become an annual thing, but I won’t promise anything.) And it’s this picture’s fault:

As usual: I’m not saying that anything of what I write below actually happened. Though Leonardo DiCaprio and Vladimir Putin are real persons, I don’t know squat about them or their personal life, but I’m reasonably sure that there is nothing to ‘ship there. This is a work of fiction with a dash of satire and should be seen that way.

Brace yourselves.

Continue reading

Leo Putin and the Underwear of Sequins

To understand what follows, a few preparatory remarks.

Maybe you’ve heard, Leonardo DiCaprio and Vladimir Putin joined hands in the fight for the Tiger. But before Leo could actually show up, his flight was delayed but he came anyway – which led Putin to call Leo “a real man.” Basically, it was already the stuff legends are made of.

I started talking with a few friends about it and suddenly – much like Brangelina – Leo Putin was born.

A few days later, the following exchange happened on twitter:

@kalafudra: Now it’s started. I’m actually looking up German translations for English words so I can write an article in German. O_o
@kathrintha: would you like to use this fully animated,interactive dictionary here?I’m on MSN,or here,or on the phone :)
@kalafudra: Since my focus is down the drain, I’m writing about five words an hour. Unless I pick up speed, I don’t think there’s much to do
@kathrintha: well…I should tell you that I have a bottle of wine next to me…so ask soon or ask tomorrow ^.~ #IdrinkthereforeIshallsleep
@kalafudra: Well, there’s always Leo
@kathrintha: Of course…Leo Putin to the rescue!!!
@kalafudra: Exactly. First the tigers, then the kalafudras.
@kathrintha: That’s the natural order of things,I’m afraid.Shack up with Siegfried and Roy and you might jump the queue ^^
@kalafudra: I wonder what I would do chez S&R. Probably getting rid of tiger shit. Or something like that.
@kathrintha: sewing sequins on random items of clothing
@kalafudra: Oh, exactly my strong suit! I might even get to glitter stuff.
@kathrintha: definitely…all day long! glittery socks, undershirts, … you’d never run out of things to decorate.
@kalafudra: What a dream! Btw “to chant” in German?
@kathrintha: Buddhist? “chanten”, Church-style: “singen” (geht nicht besser…das Wort fehlt bei uns.)
@kathrintha: or football-fan-style? (“grölen”)
@kalafudra: somehow I only got 1 tweet, which probably should have been 2 (unless you just gave me one “or” option). I went with skandieren.
@kalafudra: Oh, suddenly tweet 2 is here. Anyway, meant more in “chanting someones name in an adoring, but slightly creepy way”
@kathrintha: yeah, then “skandieren” is probably the closest you’re going to get in German. wtf are you writing about?
@kalafudra: I’m writing my Firefly article for tomorrow. At the pace I’m going (and the vodka shots I’m doing), it’s gonna take me hours yet
@kathrintha: aaaah…good combination,though ^^
@kalafudra: Definitely. Though I’m still searching for the right soundtrack for that work. ;)
@kathrintha: “Knights of Cydonia”
@kalafudra: Oh, very nice. Very, very nice indeed. *ridesoffintothesunset*
@teashoe: May I just interject that I am highly entertained by your conversation? That is all.
@kalafudra: In that case, my work is done. ;)
@kathrintha: we aim to please ^^
@kalafudra: Though I now feel kinda obligated to be witty. And since I had my 7th Klopfer [a vodka based shot drink, ed.], this is not very likely.
@teashoe: Don’t feel pressured. It’s hard to top Leo Putin and sequins on underwear. ;)
@kalafudra: Since that’s all deadra’s wit, this really takes the pressure from me. ;)
@kathrintha: That sounds like it came from JK Rowling: “Leo Putin And The Underwear of Sequins”
@kalafudra: See? Case in point. *rofl*
@teashoe: lol If we keep going with this Leo Putin stuff, I might start shipping them… :P
@kalafudra: Especially since deadra already supplied you with the perfect title for the first fanfic.
@kathrintha: Okay,that would be so very, very wrong. Thanks for putting those pictures in my head when I’ve had a drink. You’re evil.
@kalafudra: I’ve already written half the fic in my head. If I finish my article sometime soon, I might actually start to write it
@teashoe: Oh god, now you did it. This has to be happening!! The world is in dire need of such a fic!
@kathrintha: I’m giggling about something involving Vladimir Putin IN BED. I feel dirty now.
@kalafudra: Well, that’s what friends are for: give you bad ideas and make you feel dirty.
@kathrintha: well,this was fun.Now I get to go to sleep with dirty images of Leo and Putin in my head. Good night,you!
@kalafudra: Sleep tight. And have nice dreams. *inserteyebrowwigglehere*
@teashoe: Well, have sweet dreams involving neither of them! (Okay, maybe Leo alone wouldn’t be too bad…)

I was fully prepared to make good on my promise when I got around to it. But along came this:

And I just knew I couldn’t wait till I had the time – I would make the time to write this fic and if everything else had to come to a complete standstill, it would.

So, here we are. If you brave the jump, you can read all about Leo Putin and the Underwear of Sequins. Including pictures.

And just to get the legal stuff out of the way: I’m not saying that anything of what I write below actually happened. Though Leonardo DiCaprio and Vladimir Putin are real persons, I don’t know squat about them or there personal life, but I’m reasonably sure that there is nothing to ‘ship there. Though a few incidents I refer to actually kinda happened, I’m taking huge poetic license. This is a work of fiction with a dash of satire and should be seen that way.

Also, the story is not really sexy [even I didn’t want to picture Putin getting it on (you’re welcome)], but it’s gay love. So if you have a problem with that, go somewhere else.

Continue reading


I am standing on the top of the mountain. In front of me is the white guinea pig I had been following. Poor thing, I can almost hear its heart beating about 30 times a second and I am convinced that it will die pretty soon. I don’t think that guinea pigs are built for running up mountains being chased by complete strangers.

I am waiting for its instructions. There has to be a reason that it led me up here. It slowly raises its head and looks me in the eyes. I see it opening its mouth and goose bumps crawl over my skin.

It coughs. Then it drops down, still breathing, but apparently unconscious.

“This is not good,” I mutter to myself.

I look around – there’s absolutely nothing on this mountain top. What the hell am I doing here? Chasing after white guinea pigs! It’s fucking freezing!

I turn to leave. The universe can kiss my ass. Giving me dreams about white animals of all kinds and then sending me a guinea pig to follow. Do you know how fast these fuckers are? I’m glad I kept up at all. And then it just drops unconscious? If my destiny is to be mocked on top of a mountain, I’ll take my brother to climb Mount Everest. Or something with a lift. Mission accomplished.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry about that. I told Erwin that he should train more before going on a recruiting mission, but he wouldn’t listen. ‘I’m in excellent form!’ he’d say. Arrogant little guy…”

Turning around, I find a white fox standing behind me, with a clipboard in his hand. I can see my name on it. He’s wearing glasses, perched closely to the edge of his nose.

“Well, it can’t be helped now. So, you must be Mary… Sue? Mary Sue? Good, good. Here’s the thing, Mary Sue. I’ve got a mission for you. Actually not only me, but my siblinghood. You see, we’re in charge… is everything okay?”

He must have noticed my staring at him with my jaw at sea level. It’s one thing to dream about white animals who will come to get you and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing. And when one of them actually appears and you run after it in the hopes that it will prevent you from taking that stupid exam you have been dreading all semester. But it’s quite another thing when you’re standing face to face with a talking fox who keeps checking his clipboard.

“I think I need to sit down.”

“Okay, honey, you’re already sitting. You just fainted and were out for about five minutes. Did you hurt your head when you fell?”

I can feel his paws on my head, softly checking it for any injuries.

“I think I’m fine. Really. I’m okay. I guess, I just have to live with the fact that I’m entirely insane. Must have been a psychotic break or something. I probably should call my mum and tell her that I’m talking to a fox and that I should really get psychiatric help.”

I babble. I very rarely babble. I really must have hit my head pretty hard.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Listen, let me tell you about what’s happening and then you can always decide if you need to go to the hospital. Alright?
“As I was saying, before you lost consciousness, I’m part of a siblinghood. We’re responsible for letting people know about their destinies. Kind of like fortune tellers, only not fake. For some people, this communication comes early on. We tell them that they’re destined to be doctors or fair or Starbucks customers. You see, destiny comes in very different shapes.
“Anyway, you are one of the people who gave us quite a headache. You’re smart, but no genius. You’re okay at everything, but excel at nothing. You…”

I interrupt him, “I know, okay, I know! These questions have been plaguing me for a while. You found my destiny? Great! Because I’ve been looking for it for quite a while. But it was nowhere to be seen. What is it? Is there some position open, which requires okay general knowledge and great pop culture trivia? Something where I just have to read the whole day? Am I actually talented enough to live of writing?”

I get more and more excited. Maybe this trip is worth its while! How often do you get told what your destiny is?

I see the fox shift uncomfortably. Or maybe he just needs to pee. I don’t know. I can’t really read fox facial expressions and body language yet.

“Well, you know, this might… I didn’t make the decision, keep that in mind… I mean. Hang on.”

He gets a small trumpet from behind a boulder and clears his throat.

“MARY SUE! You have come a long way and you have finally arrived. Today will be a day you will always remember because I will reveal your destiny.”

He blows the trumpet, then continues. “Your destiny is …” He blows the trumpet again. “… to be completely ordinary!” One last blow in his trumpet. Then he checks off my name on the clipboard.

“Now, sweetie, Erwin’s brother Edwin will lead you down from the mountain. Have a good life! Ta-ta!”

I’m completely stunned. I don’t think that I can move. I can only watch the fox disappear, while a white guinea pig appears and introduces itself as Edwin.

Dazed I start my way down the mountain, my thoughts going round and round in my head. I was pretty sure before that I would never win the Nobel prize. But this? And he didn’t even tell me what ordinary meant! Is not liking anchovies ordinary? Is it ordinary that I brush my teeth before breakfast? Is it ordinary that I spend all my money on books?

The further down I get from the mountain, the stronger my resolution grows. I don’t let anybody make my decisions, not even a talking white fox. My life won’t be dictated by somebody’s views of ordinary or not ordinary. I will live my own life. And it will be glorious. Full with achievements and …

Shit. Did I just step on Edwin?