Psssst. Hail Hydra!

Apr. 18th, 2014 12:38 am
moetushie: Beaton cartoon - a sexy revolution. (Default)
[personal profile] moetushie
So I just got back from watching Cap 2 for the second (and probably last time -- ticket prices are not cheap here!) Assume spoilers, I guess? )
musesfool: katara, waterbending (why ain't in your repertoire no more)
[personal profile] musesfool
Stuff! And also things!

1. it got cold here again. I DO NOT APPROVE. And I had to wait longer than usual for a bus this morning, so I was Not Pleased, especially since I didn't wear a fleecy under my coat.

2. I spoiled myself for Amazing Spider-man 2. On purpose, actually. spoilers ) I still don't know if I'm going to see it. I guess I'll wait until people I trust have seen it and commented.

3. Ugh, so I put the teevee on at 7:59 pm for Arrow and channel 11 was dark! And it was dark on the HD version too! And I was like, NOOOOOOO! but it popped back in just at the end of the previouslies. Whew. I have to say that Arrow and Good Wife are the two hours of tv I look forward to most every week. I still enjoy Elementary but I feel like it's been idling this season and has never really gotten into gear. But that could just be because everything feels slow when compared to TGW and Arrow (and Sleepy Hollow when it was on). Talk about breakneck pacing. Anyway!

Arrow: The Man Under the Hood (no, sadly, not Jason Todd)
spoilers )

4. Speaking of excellent television, I would put the s2 run of Avatar: the Last Airbender, from The Blind Bandit through Crossroads of Destiny, up against any tv show in terms of excellent runs of episodes. There's really only the one clunker (The Guru) - it just builds and builds and builds to an amazing climax. Why yes, I've been rewatching. Last night, it was The Desert, which might be my favorite Katara episode. She's just so determined to get them all out of there alive and intact while Sokka's high and Aang's grieving and Toph can't actually help.

5. Today's poem:

What Goes On

After the affair and the moving out,
after the destructive revivifying passion,
we watched her life quiet

into a new one, her lover more and more
on its periphery. She spent many nights
alone, happy for the narcosis

of the television. When she got cancer
she kept it to herself until she couldn't
keep it from anyone. The chemo debilitated
and saved her, and one day

her husband asked her to come back --
his wife, who after all had only fallen
in love as anyone might
who hadn't been in love in a while --

and he held her, so different now,
so thin, her hair just partially
grown back. He held her like a new woman

and what she felt
felt almost as good as love had,
and each of them called it love
because precision didn't matter anymore.

And we who'd been part of it,
often rejoicing with one
and consoling the other,

we who had seen her truly alive
and then merely alive,
what could we do but revise
our phone book, our hearts,

offer a little toast to what goes on.

~Stephen Dunn


Finally-On-A-Wednesday Reading Meme

Apr. 16th, 2014 11:42 pm
moetushie: Beaton cartoon - a sexy revolution. (Default)
[personal profile] moetushie
What I'm Reading Now:

- The God-eaters by Jesse Hajichek. Hmm. It's kind of a mystery to me how this got into my iBooks collection, but I've been reading it, off-and-on for the last few months. The first part of the novel didn't grab me much, yes, protag had terrifying powers, repressive government is repressive, is this fantasy Australia where they are or what? (I mean, the Amazon page calls it a Western, but the location/description of Churchrock seemed to echo Uluru?)

Anyway, things really picked up once Kieran met Ash in prison! This is good and tropey (I like that it reads like fic) and I'm enjoying it immensely.

I will probably finish this.

- A Month in the Country by J.L. Carr. A really beautifully written book. I think I was sold on this after reading this sentence:

This had been starveling country, every stone an extortion.

What a sentence! Anyway, since it won the Booker Prize the year it came out, I suppose there's a consensus on its quality or whatever. More excitingly, there's a movie about it too, of the same name. It stars a very young Colin Firth (in an unfortunate mustache, alas, but you can't have everything), and KenBran! And Natasha Richardson! And it's on Youtube!

... I should probably finish reading this before I get to it though. And since the PDF I have is, like, 33 pages, I don't think it'll be long now.

What I just finished reading: Um. I finished a lot of fic?? No judgment, yo.

What I'm going to read: Oh, lots! First up is Claire De La Lune by Jetta Carleton, The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner, Rags & Bones: New Twists on Timeless Tales, edited by Melissa Marr, The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo & the rest of the Bess Crawford mysteries series.
musesfool: nightwing (do not confuse yourself w/yr reflection)
[personal profile] musesfool
SHIELD spoilers )

In other comics news, apparently now that his secret identity has been revealed, Dick Grayson is going to become a super spy. I don't even know, you guys. (I mean, if it's public now that Dick Grayson is Nightwing, isn't it SUPER OBVIOUS that Bruce Wayne is Batman? IJS)

First off, I'm so glad he's not dead. That would have been three out of four post-reboot Robins dead (I still say a big FUCK YOU, STEPH WAS ROBIN to DC, but whatever) and for real, I think Alfred might have had to beat the everliving crap out of Bruce for that, even if Dick came back fairly quickly.

Secondly, I don't have a problem with the gun, which seems to be a sticking point for a lot of people, but even though I guess it was erased by the reboot, OFFICER GRAYSON was still a thing, and Dick carried a gun then, too. (The comics did not explore this nearly as much as they should have, though. IJS) Otoh, he looks way more Jason-y there, so. I don't even know. Also, I'm not sure how having your face and name revealed will make you a good super spy. And Dick's disguises are notoriously hilariterrible. This is a dude who went undercover in the mob AS HIMSELF. So while he's probably got a ton of tradecraft in some ways, I just don't see it working out well for him. (Also, I feel like the shades of gray morality that spies live in will be tougher for him to handle, but who knows?)

Thirdly, I kind of laugh at the Winter Soldier-y-ness of it all (well, Dick and Bucky are the prototypical plucky boy hostages sidekicks, but didn't we already do that with Jason? though to be fair, I think Red Hood and Winter Soldier happened kind of simultaneously in the comics, just as both Steve and Bruce were unstuck in time at around the same time with Dick and Bucky stepping into their respective cowls [I still want that story! How do you step into your mentor's shoes when it was never ever what you wanted to be doing?]; while Jason/Bucky seems like the obvious parallel, I do love the Dick/Bucky parallels as well), but if it allows for easier MCU/DCU crossovers, I'm good with that. We already know Dick loves redheads, but I feel a rash of Natasha Loves Dick jokes breaking out already. *cough*

Mostly, though, I once again feel the need to say #DC LOOK AT YOUR LIFE. LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES.


What I'm reading Wednesday:

What I've just finished

Catastrophe 1914: Europe Goes to War by Max Hastings, which suffered (for me) from being just about 1914 rather than the whole war. *hands* It was really long for a book that only covered one year, and it was probably a little too much about various battles etc. and not quite enough about the personalities involved, though there was some of that too.

What I'm reading now

The First World War by Hew Strachan, which is quite a bit shorter for all that it does cover the whole war, and quite a bit drier in tone. While I appreciate that the pictures are probably interesting in a hard copy, they're completely unreadable in ebook form, and the book suffers quite a lot (imo) from a sad lack of maps. I NEED MAPS, PEOPLE. If I want them of fictional places - and I do - then I want them eleventy million times MORE of real places. Otoh, I've already learned a ton of stuff I didn't know about what was happening in the Europeans' African colonies during the war. I didn't even realize there was related fighting in Africa at the time, but there was!

What I'm reading next

I dunno. Maybe I will dip back into fiction for a while. Who knows?


Today's poem:

the loneliness of the long-distance lover

another phone call. the distance becomes
blue smoke rising from an ashtray; static

crackling like familiar songs on vinyl; the
delicate smell of mandarins. tangible and

elusive. how inadequate hands can be –
fingers slice through air as if it were mere

gas, not a tangle of unused words. and you
hold your breath, don't ask. i hear silence

intensify, before you blurt out my name –
jack-in-a-box sick of confinement, its lid

kept shut too long. this is how you make
love to me. this is what i have learned to

mould into a dream of happiness, late at
night when sleep won't come: your lips

on mine, your palm a perfect fit for my
pale winter cheek, an answer to every

question, and no morning without the
reward of another night. i want to be a

secret whispered in your ear, the smoke
that stings your eyes, a tear on your face.

unlearn the magic, pleads reason; my
voice says nothing. my heart beats out

whatever rhythm yours dictates, tries to
x out every single thought does not bear

your name. darling, i breathe across time
zones. darling. all my words melt into one.

~Michaela A. Gabriel

gehayi: (zoe_you_paid_money (irulan_amy))
[personal profile] gehayi
Fifty Shades Darker--Blurb

In which the blurb for this book was not written by anyone who had read it. Even if ELJ wrote the blurb, this is still true.

Warnings for mentions of rape, incest, sexual situations, violence and BDSM. And to anyone with dial-up, the dissection of the blurb is a bit graphics-heavy.
musesfool: Diane Lockhart is more awesome than you (what she wants you to see)
[personal profile] musesfool
I'm so behind on answering comments and email, but I'm working on it, I swear. It's just so busy and exhausting with my dad and the house and everything, but at least an end is in sight? I also have to write my remix. Well. First, I have to actually choose a story to remix. Sigh. And I have a few post-Cap 2 stories I want to write. But my brain, she's not so compliant. In better news, my sister texted today to let me know the inspection went well yesterday and the buyer is moving forward, so that's good news. *crosses fingers*


Last night, I watched this week's The Good Wife. spoilers )


Today's poem:


Trapped on hell's runway,
every day I'm on my cell
begging for news that the wildfires
have not yet reached my house — it's weird
ghosts who take care of things for me,
its hallelujah brushfire of roses hissing
damply on the stucco ... brittle beards
of palm trees shushing overhead
like the harridan who raised me:

(the wolf in the bed;
the grandmother at the door)...

The family kitchen's an abattoir:
its scorched-earth dooryard's a wizening croft
of ash and dead hearts, planted in winter
by ill-fated crash-test true believers (paths
of chopped glass through the parsley garden) —

What would Alice do?
Which bite to take?

I am no Alice.
Like the truth, I'm not pretty;
some people say I look mean enough
to run down a squirrel
on purpose
(crushed red form; crime of no name) —

but what they don't know
is that I'm gentle as a child
and that I'd choose to use a gun
every time.

It's a whole-body thing, this embrace
of a gun: the furious aim, trigger pad
tingling — long, cold barrel
a shock on the palm; the contrary duckling
trembling in the crosshairs, naked
on the tarmac of memory...

Once, I fled eastward the length of Fire Island,
then fell to my knees beneath a star-studded cast-iron
apron of sky — seized by inspiration, crushed by vision:
Everything we do, Sylvia, feels like hell.

(But I lost my sense of terror there;
knew at once that I must run
not from but straight toward
what I most fear...)

Welcome to the forest of my head.
Is there anything more you need to know?
I invite you to follow me in.
I'll be sure to leave a shredded, flaming
paper trail everywhere I go.

~Gabrielle LeMay


you say the words that i can't say

Apr. 14th, 2014 11:51 am
musesfool: Suki, being AWESOME (the girl with the boom)
[personal profile] musesfool
Wow, this weekend, okay.

Friday night, I went to see CA:TWS again with L. - she enjoyed it but thought there was too much fighting. While I am of the opinion that most action movies of the past twenty years are too long and have fight scenes and chase scenes both that go on too long, I didn't really feel that at all about Cap 2. (Possibly the overwhelming amount of Bucky feels on display - both mine and Steve's - contributes to that.) I can see where I'll be FFing through on dvd, but it's nowhere near the amount of FFing I've done for CA:TFA (nearly everything between Steve's mourning scene and the plane going down) or Avengers (e.g., the whole Iron Man/Thor confrontation in the middle: bleh; I'm not here for superheroes fighting each other, unless one is mind-controlled or brainwashed or something). Because I thought the fights were really tied to characterization and also easy to follow. Also, ROBOT ARM. Ahem.

Then we went for a late dinner at a new restaurant in the neighborhood and I had BBQ brisket tacos, which were excellent, though probably a little spicier than was wise at such a late hour, given my acid reflux issues. And also some unpronounceable but lovely German (? I think?) wheat beer. (They also had a variety of IPAs but I can never remember if I like them or not; maybe next time I will get a tasting flight and find out.)

Then Saturday morning I headed out to the island for some intensive decluttering with my dad - well, after I finished emptying out the dresser in my bedroom there and packing up some kitchen items I'll be taking with me (including two vintage yellow Pyrex mixing bowls, four champagne coupes, some fancy cut-glass stemmed dessert bowls that were my grandmother's, and a set of tiny vintage cordial glasses [also my grandmother's]), my dad continued to empty out his desk while I watched a selected episodes version of s1 of AtLA on his giant TV via Amazon Prime.

In addition to a decade's worth of check registers that he shredded (page by page since he has a tiny home shredder that overheats a lot), he found the little metal box with some recipes my grandmother kept, most of them clipped out of Il Progresso and some handwritten, but all in Italian, so getting them translated should be interesting (I've been looking for that box forever, or at least since my parents moved into that house 12 years ago; I keep hoping there will be a copy of Aunt Jean's pizza dough recipe in it, since I never got that from them and I've never had anything like it anywhere else, though my dad says they had no recipe for that, it was all done by eyeball/feel).

In the midst of that, there were people who came to see the house, and the realtor (not our person, but the one for the prospective buyers) actually tried to talk up the place, which was nice to hear, because we figured that 1. the asking price was way too high, and 2. it was going to be a tough sell regardless, but even though all I had to do was open the door, I still found the experience uncomfortable.

Then my brother and his wife came over to sort through more stuff and empty out the large breakfront in the dining room - they're taking it, since my grandfather made it (as well as my dad's desk and several other pieces of furniture that we've distributed through the family - he was a cabinet maker, with a side of instrument making, so my brother also took the remaining grandpa-made mandolin as well - he already has one and a guitar my grandpa made for him hanging in his living room).

On Sunday, we were up early because my dad had to finish clearing out the desk so my b-i-l could load it into a truck and take it back to his house and then he and my nephew took the dresser from my room, so all my clothes that I haven't given to Goodwill are sitting in a giant garbage bag while I try to figure out how I'm going to get them home and where I'm going to put them when I do. (Ideally, my brother will store all this stuff for me for a while, so I can clear out some crap in my own apt. and then he can drive me into the city with it; we'll see what happens, I guess; also, I am taking the KitchenAid, which means bye-bye microwave).

Since the desk was gone, that meant the iMac had to be put on the other smaller desk in the room (not built by my grandfather), the one that my dad uses for paperwork, so the whole thing is a jumble and not really conducive to doing anything (since that desk wasn't being moved, my dad did not clean it off *facepalm*). At which point we were like, "why is he taking that? is there even room for it? Wouldn't a laptop be better, so he could take it anywhere in the house with him instead of being tied to a desk?" and he said, "Get me a laptop. Do it now." So I ordered him at 13" MacBook Air, for pickup at the Smith Haven Mall Apple store later in the afternoon, and we settled in to wait for another set of prospective buyers. Then we took a drive to pick up the laptop (with him cursing me every step for making him walk through the mall - he has mobility issues and uses a walker - but they needed to see a photo ID and his credit card, which he knew going into the transaction so...we made stops for him to rest along the way, and they had a chair for him in the store itself), and got him a lapdesk to use it with (I left him sitting in the mall while I went to B&N), and then did a small grocery shopping (necessities only) and had dinner, and then spent the rest of the evening setting up his new laptop with his passwords and bookmarks (which I saved from the iMac but chose not to import since they were full of stuff he was never going to use again). Which took a little longer than it should have because he has to get used to the touchpad and also he types with one finger.

My nephew is going to take the iMac, but we still have to get some stuff off it - my tax records, some music, nothing major (I've already zipped and sent myself all my word docs that were backed up out there).

And I also did ALL THE LAUNDRY my god so much laundry.

Luckily, the weather was beautiful through it all.

But! In the midst of all of that, my sister texted me to let me know that there was an offer on the house! For more than we hoped to get (though not as much as it was listed for, because that was a fool's dream.) And they want to close by May 15 if at all possible (with an extension to June 15 if necessary)! So the inspector is coming this evening, but hopefully that will be fine and we can get this show on the road!

So my dad was finally like, "Holy crap, I'm actually moving and I can't take all this stuff with me!" (He is moving into my sister's the first weekend of May regardless, as long as the installation of the stair lift thing goes well, but we thought it was going to take a lot longer to get an offer on the house.)

So a lot of things are in motion, but hopefully the end of my having to give up my weekends is near. By the end of May I should have them to myself again for a while. *crosses fingers* And then I have to start clearing my own space out.

After all that, I missed posting a poem yesterday, which made me sad, but there just wasn't time and it wouldn't have been easy to do via my iPad (I was barely online at all the whole weekend except for checking email on my phone).

So here's a poem for today:

So You Would Listen to Me
by Laura Riesco

So you would listen to me
I tangled your silence

My words became
shrill with the wind

The starry shadows
of all my poems
plunged in your eyes

So you would listen to me
God put you in the night

The whole world put
solitude in our steps

So you would listen to me
I diverted your path

How many nights spent
I gave you in a minute

You were to blame
for the tremor of my hands

You were to blame
and now you listened to me

Illuminated knives
crossed my breasts

I dug from the cavity
the reason of my dreams

So you would listen to me
I tangled your silence

I was falling in parts
and in parts in silence
I was leaving the soul to you.


(no subject)

Apr. 13th, 2014 10:39 pm
moetushie: Beaton cartoon - a sexy revolution. (Default)
[personal profile] moetushie
A meme (invented?) by [ profile] tehta:

Name five 'non-sexual kinks' you have as a reader/writer: that is, five writing techniques, themes, settings, or character types that really draw you into a story. (If they are different for you as a reader than as a writer, please name both!)

Questions about tropes/narrative kinks are hard because while I'm into a lot of tropes (if they're done well), I'm not usually there just for the tropes. Characters, plot, setting means more to me. But of course, tropes could be part of the characters/plot/etc, although hopefully there's more to them than that.

1. Dysfunctional families. Not so much a trope I like as one I'm comfortable with, and sort of expect. I come from a dysfunctional family, most of my friends do too. The people who don't are probably happier, sure, but I'm not sure I want to read about them.

See also: Your Chosen Family is Also Dysfunctional.

2. Rescued from the sea I can never have enough of stories like that. Especially if there's loneliness, isolation, supernatural elements... Selkies... Fish-people. Seaweed. That weird smell the sea has. All of that.

3.Loyalty & betrayal (aka ~two sides of the same coin). Undying loyalty is good. Face-heel turns are also good. I just need build-up and a reason.

4. Female anti-heroes. Whyyyyy are they so goddamn rare? No, I already know why. But I love them, these women who don't want to fit into the narrow strictures of being a 'good' woman (whatever that might mean in their place/time) but are also morally ambiguous. We have your Medeas, your Lady Macbeths, your Morgan le Fays, your Guineveres (sometimes, okay, maybe in my dreams), your Mystiques and Rogues, your Tracy Flicks, your Betty Drapers and Skylar Whites...

I am really, really looking forward to Maleficent.


God, I have so much writing to do.

Apr. 12th, 2014 11:47 pm
moetushie: Beaton cartoon - a sexy revolution. (Default)
[personal profile] moetushie
(Why does that make me excited? Oh, weirdo.)

But here's the rundown of what I have to do:
- Finish my Remix Redux assignment, which I am ... doubtful about. I think the bare bones of story are okay but ... the original is a drabble (a great one) and I feel like my remix is ... bloated and extraneous in comparison? WOE.
- My RenaultX assignment, which is due on the same day as Remix, but which I have barely worked on. I'm having trouble focusing on it. Partly due to the fact that I am wholly unable to write anything resembling smut for these characters.
- A kink meme fill based on CA:TWS. Very morally dubious.

But instead of working on ANY of that, how about a meme?

Give me a character or pairing, and a word/scenario/some other form of inspiration and I'll write something (probably brief). I only want to write the Silm/Cap films/The Charioteer at the moment.

'K. Back to work.
musesfool: Astrid Farnsworth at a white board (subtraction is never loss)
[personal profile] musesfool
Asking Too Much

I want you to tell me about every person you've ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you.
Tell me about a day in your life you wouldn't think you'd live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
And tell me in a way that I'll know your mother's name just by the way you describe your bedroom when you were 8.
See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.
Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms?
Or would you leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would, would you notice how the tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek?
Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they're sad, even if that makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?
See, I wanna know what you think of your first name.
And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother's joy when she spoke it for the very first time.
I want you to tell me all the ways you've been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you've been cruel.
Tell me- knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school.
If you were walking by a chemical plant, where smoke stacks were filling the sky with dark, black clouds, would you holler, "Poison! Poison! Poison!" really loud or would you whisper, "That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy?"
Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don't believe in miracles, tell me, how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?
See, I wanna know if you believe in any god, or if you believe in many gods. Or better yet, what gods believe in you.
And for all the times you've knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you've asked come true?
And if they didn't did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who?
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you're feeling good.
I wanna know what you see in the mirror on a day you're feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who ever taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.
If you ever reach enlightenment, would you remember how to laugh?
Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me if I told you I have lived my entire life a little off key and I'm not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarized the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence.
Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do, I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar.
See I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving.
And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people's wounds.
And if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon that if you wanted you could pop – but you never would because you'd never want it to stop.
If a tree fell in the forest, and you were the only one there to hear it, if its fall to the ground didn't make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn't exist or would you just bask in the bliss of your nothingness?
And lastly, let me ask you this: if you and I went for a walk, and the entire walk we didn't talk, do you think that eventually we'd kiss?
No way. That's askin' too much – after all, this is only our first date.

~Andrea Gibson


I was asleep while you were dying

Apr. 11th, 2014 12:16 pm
musesfool: Joan looking annoying while Sherlock gazes soulfully at her (the tender gravity of kindness)
[personal profile] musesfool
today's poem:


I was asleep while you were dying.
It's as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow
I make between my slumber and my waking,

the Erebus I keep you in, still trying
not to let go. You'll be dead again tomorrow,
but in dreams you live. So I try taking

you back into morning. Sleep-heavy, turning,
my eyes open, I find you do not follow.
Again and again, this constant forsaking.


Again and again, this constant forsaking:
my eyes open, I find you do not follow.
You back into morning, sleep-heavy, turning.

But in dreams you live. So I try taking,
not to let go. You'll be dead again tomorrow.
The Erebus I keep you in—still, trying—

I make between my slumber and my waking.
It's as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow.
I was asleep while you were dying.

~Natasha Trethewey


spoilers for this week & last week )


So my Christmas gift from my dad this year was some financial help with my credit card debt and I'm happy to say that I was able to pay the bulk of it off yesterday, to my great relief. I will not be letting it get so out of control again, and hopefully now I can start actually saving some money again instead of always being on the edge of being broke.


Even subtraction is never loss

Apr. 10th, 2014 11:03 am
musesfool: movieverse Bucky and Steve, eyefucking (catch me now i'm falling)
[personal profile] musesfool
Today's poem:


I like the generosity of numbers.
The way, for example,
they are willing to count
anything or anyone:
two pickles, one door to the room,
eight dancers dressed as swans.

I like the domesticity of addition--
add two cups of milk and stir--
the sense of plenty: six plums
on the ground, three more
falling from the tree.

And multiplication's school
of fish times fish,
whose silver bodies breed
beneath the shadow
of a boat.

Even subtraction is never loss,
just addition somewhere else:
five sparrows take away two,
the two in someone else's
garden now.

There's an amplitude to long division,
as it opens Chinese take-out
box by paper box,
inside every folded cookie
a new fortune.

And I never fail to be surprised
by the gift of an odd remainder,
footloose at the end:
forty-seven divided by eleven equals four,
with three remaining.

Three boys beyond their mothers' call,
two Italians off to the sea,
one sock that isn't anywhere you look.

~Mary Cornish


One of the great things about Cap 2 is how much new fic there is to read! So much new Steve/Bucky that I didn't have to write myself. *happy sigh* Now I just need time to read it all! Also, I wish I could just get my own writing brain back into gear to produce something. There are a couple things I want to do, and it'd be nice to post while people are actually interested, but I've been unable to focus (also, possibly finishing the three lingering wsip prior to the movie opening in the US wore me out a little). One other nice side effect is that even my older Steve/Bucky stories have been getting more response. <3

[personal profile] thingswithwings wrote an excellent post about Nick Fury and also Cap 2's politics that is very much worth reading.

Jumping tracks (no pun intended), [personal profile] calvinahobbes wrote an interesting analysis of Snowpiercer.

I feel like there was a third link I wanted to include but I can't remember what it was, so instead, I'll just inform you that AV Club is covering Band of Brothers on Wednesdays for TV Club Classic.

ETA: I remember what the third thing was! I have been remiss in not letting you all know that [ profile] reena_jenkins recorded podfic of Kiss Me With Your Mouth Open, my Tim/Kon sex pollen story, and [ profile] sisi_rambles recorded podfic of A Round for These Freaks and These Soldiers, my Captain America tontine story. <333

moetushie: Kate Kane and Renee Montoya, shoulder kisses. (kate + renee (shoulder kisses))
[personal profile] moetushie
I really don't do online birthday wishes -- not because I don't love and adore you all (I do), but because without technology reminding me, I forget all about anyone's birthday (except my own, I admit.) I mean, nowadays I log directly on to my filtered flist and never see the LJ main log-in page at all... All of this is just a long and rambling semi-justification for what's next.

Tomorrow is Oshun's birthday! And I know that because I have Europeans on my LJ flist who live in the future and can tell me these things. I had just enough time to fire up the Photoshop and make something. Oshun is a very special writer, and her Fingon/Maedhros stories were one of the very first Silmfic I ever read, way back when. Because I was a serious lurker back then, I never left any reviews (please forgive me) -- but those stories -- Maitimo and Findekano and A New Day very much influenced the way I saw these characters. When I started posting my own Silmfic, I was flabbergasted to see that she had reviewed something of mine! Wow!

That's what Oshun is -- talented, gregarious, and generous. (I hope you don't mind if I sometimes talk about you to my mom, and call you my friend from Brooklyn...)

Anyway, happy birthday, Oshun! I hope it's a good one, and you have a great year. You deserve it.

Under the cut is, well, a drawing of Fingon and Maedhros k-i-s-s-i-n-g.

...It is unknown if they are doing it in a tree. )

P.S. Everyone: I will try to be less fail-boatish about birthdays. Possibly, you might have to PM me to make sure the dates penetrates my thick skull.



January 2014


Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Apr. 18th, 2014 04:32 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios