blakefancier

blakefancier @ 2014-07-19T17:42:00

2014-07-20T00:44:27Z

My god, I suck.

Hey, everyone. I disappeared again. So, yeah. I've had a busy first six months of the year. I bought a house. Yes, I actually bought a house and I'm moved in. I'm like, 99% moved in. Houses are hard work! OMG, such hard work. I feel like I knew it in theory but in practice.. such hard work! Thankfully I have a wonderful family who has been helping me immensely.

How are all of you?

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blakefancier @ 2014-01-11T17:56:00

2014-01-12T01:59:07Z

I should never post right before Christmas because I know that will disappear when I visit the family and yet I did it anyway. Silly me.

I feel like I should say more, but I am full of pulled pork sandwich so I am pretty sleepy.

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blakefancier @ 2013-12-19T22:23:00

2013-12-20T06:23:55Z

I have all the Avengers love, but I've been thinking about having a B7 rewatch. Maybe on New Year's Day!

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I need to start posting here more often

2013-12-19T05:35:55Z

I've been on tumblr this past year (I'm blakefancier there, too), playing in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It's weird to be a fan of universe that's all the rage. My *family* is into the movies.

So weird.

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blakefancier @ 2013-12-18T20:08:00

2013-12-19T04:09:01Z

Hi.

Wow, it's been a long time, hasn't it. So... um, I"m still alive.

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Eeeee, eeee!

2012-12-03T04:13:31Z

I am so excited! Tomorrow morning, I am traveling on a jet plane to visit my partner in crime! *blows kiss at her* This is the first time we'll be meeting face to face. It's gonna be great!

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Captain America fic: Trinity

2012-10-09T04:50:15Z

Title: Trinity
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Howard Stark/Maria Stark, past Steve Rogers/Howard Stark, J. Robert Oppenheimer, Tony Stark
Word Count: 1250
Warnings/Kinks: Child abuse, alcoholism, PTSD
Summary: This is not an apology or an excuse: Howard Stark is Death, the destroyer of worlds.
Notes: Just what the summary says. I'm not apologizing for Howard, I'm not making excuses. Howard Stark was a horrible father, an abusive father. He was also a human being.

They detonated the first atomic bomb on July 16, 1945; Oppenheimer got philosophical, Howard smiled and congratulated everyone. When he got home, he spent hours on the bathroom floor, retching until his throat hurt and his body ached. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw destruction.

He didn't go in to work the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. He was sitting on the floor, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hands when Oppenheimer came to see what was going on.

"I knew Captain America," he said. "I knew—He was the best man I ever knew. Working with him, it was the best thing I ever did."

"This is good work, too, Howard."

He smiled bitterly. "He wouldn't think so. He would say we were no better than our enemies."

"Is that what you believe?"

"I just want to do good. I just want our boys to stop dying." He rubbed his eyes. "Every time I close my eyes, I see the world burn."

"You're not a prophet." Oppenheimer took the bottle from him. "You're stressed and tired. You're drunk."

"I just wanted him to be proud of me," he murmured, too soft for anyone else to hear.

*****

The world burned twice and he never forgot: he carried destruction in his soul.

*****

Maria Collins Carbonell was twenty years his junior and he didn't care. She was smart and beautiful and she held a kindness in her that hadn't seen since Steve. She walked through the world and expected everyone to do the right thing.

"Why me?" he asked her once. "Why do you want to be with me? I'm old and broken. I build bombs and guns."

She cupped his face and kissed his mouth and said, "Because you care. Because this is your way of protecting the people you love."

He wasn't sure how she managed to be right while being completely wrong. "I want you to marry me. Will you marry me?"

She laughed and hugged him. "Yes."

*****

"Where do you go?" Maria stood on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. "On your yearly trip. Where do you go?"

"The arctic." He brushed a fallen eyelash from her cheek and smiled.

"Well, don’t lie!" She smacked him on his butt and he yelped.

"I'm not. I'm not lying."

Maria took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. "What's in the artic, then?"

"Snow bunnies."

She kicked him hard in the shin and he gave a surprised cry. "Howard Stark, if you're jetting off to Vegas to gamble and look at strippers—"

He sat back on the bed and rubbed his shin. "No! No, I'm… I'm not… I…" He took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip. "I'm not lying. I really do go to the arctic."

"What's in the arctic?" She tilted her head and frowned. "Can you tell me? Is this a secret project?"

"No, it's not—" God, he wanted a drink. "It's not a what, it's a who."

Maria sat next to him and took his hand. "Tell me."

So he did. He laid out every secret, every bit of darkness, every flicker of light, He told her about every touch, every kiss, every wound, and every word, sharp or sweet. She didn't say anything, but she didn't let go of his hand either. When he was done, he felt wrung out, exhausted.

She cleared her throat and sniffled. "You'll find him, Howard. You'll find him and bring him home. I know you will."

He leaned his head against hers and squeezed her hand.

*****

Tony was born on May 29, 1970, while Howard was in the arctic, looking for Steve. He didn't get back to New York until a month later. It was late, or early, when he sneaked into the house.

Howard watched Tony sleep; this tiny person bundled up in a green blanket, rosebud mouth working against the air. There was so much potential for darkness, so many possibilities for destruction in that little brain. He touched Tony's round cheek and closed his eyes.

He didn't open them again, until the door squeaked. Maria stood next to him, watching Tony. She looked tired and pale. She looked unhappy for a moment, then her face cleared and she smiled.

"When he grows up, he's going to look just like you," she whispered.

"Let's hope it's the only thing he gets from me."

"Howard." She put her arm around his waist.

"What if I gave him all the bad parts of me, Maria? What if I gave him all my darkness? All the potential for destruction and pain and…" His voice shook and he had to stop speaking.

"You are not a monster, Howard Stark. But even if you were, our personalities are as much nurture as it is nature."

He wanted to believe that, he really did. "I am become Death, destroyer of worlds."

"No," she said. "You aren't. He won't be."

*****

The arc reactor was a gift to the world, a promise to Maria, an apology to Steve, and challenge for Tony.

*****

"Be better than me," he told the gurgling baby on his lap. "Be stronger and smarter. Be a better man." He finished his drink then held out the photo of Steve. "Be like him. Be a hero. Once you've got blood on your hands, there's no way to wash it off."

*****

Howard hired the most sought after nannies and the best tutors. He did his best to minimize his contact with the boy.

It frustrated Maria to no end. "Why won't you spend time with him? He needs you!"

He poured himself another drink and stared out into space. He could have told her the truth, that he didn’t want to taint Tony with the darkness inside of him, that a part of him was afraid it was too late. Instead, he said, "I've got a lot of work to do, Maria. I don't have time to play games."

*****

Howard hit Tony four separate times.

The first three, he'd been drunk. The last…

He sat at his desk and rubbed the smear of blood on his hand. It would never wash off. He could never undo what he'd done. Tony would always remember that Howard hit him four separate times. Tony would remember that Howard was drunk the first three times, and the last time—the last time, there'd been blood.

Maria stormed into the room, her eyes filled with hatred—he did that, he made her look like that—and she slapped him. She slapped him hard and he tasted blood. He tasted blood and he knew that was the point.

"Never again," she said. "Not ever again!"

Too late. It was too late. He was a monster now, maybe he'd always been a monster since the first time he helped make the world burn. Nothing would change that now, not the arc reactor, not Tony, not even finding Steve—if he ever found Steve.

"Never again," he promised.

The next fall, he sent Tony to boarding school. Something inside of Maria broke that day. He added it to his list of sins.

*****

Tony was brilliant, charming, and handsome. He had so much to give to the world. He was Howard's greatest failure and worst creation.

There were times that Howard was sorry he never told Tony how much he loved him. But he knew it was for the best.

Howard's love was tainted and he destroyed everything he touched.

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flails

2012-08-25T22:09:30Z

So SyFy is thinking about rebooting B7. No! Just... no!

The sad thing is, I'll probably watch it. And cry.

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Important Information

2012-08-15T13:17:52Z

A friend of mine just posted to her DW about this. Evidently, there's some site called FriendBlab that has taken to reposting journals without permission. I went to check and mine isn't showing up when I do a search, but when I clicked on the link to my friend's unauthorized Friendblab and checked her friends page, there I was.

http://www.friendblab.com/profile.aspx?see=http%3a%2f%2fblakefancier.dreamwidth.org%2fdata%2ffoaf

http://www.friendblab.com/profile.aspx?see=http%3a%2f%2fblakefancier.livejournal.com%2fdata%2ffoaf

A couple of you who have friended me on Dreamwidth are also replicated there.

I'm going to open a support ticket with Dreamwidth and am going to send a message to the guy who is listed as FriendBlab's 'Copyright Agent' - Randy Charles Morin asking to be taken down. Here's his email randy@kbcafe.com

Anyway, I suggest you check it out, see if you're there without permission.

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I am alive

2012-08-14T04:49:40Z

Still alive and writing. Writing. Writing.

I'm working on a Captain America werewolf AU along with a billion other projects. My love is brilliant like a billion suns for Marvel right now.

Oh, DC, you've done me wrong and I just can't stomach you!

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Captain America fic: It's Still Rock and Roll to Me

2012-07-22T01:49:39Z

Title: It's Still Rock and Roll to Me
Fandom: Captain America: The First Avenger
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers/Howard Stark, Obadiah Stane, Bucky Barnes
Warnings/Kinks: Horrible and fake music lyrics. Abuse against Steven Tyler. Slutty!Howard.
Summary: Rockstar!AU! Howard is a rock star and Steve is his possible protégé. Steve has other ideas. Sexy ideas. And Howard finds himself going along with them.
Notes: Dirty Girl is my very uninspired, very horrible idea. Really, it's so horrible that my brain rebels every time i think about it. I Will Survive is an awesome song, though. As is Brilliant Disguise-- Even if Steve does feel like a traitor for singing The Boss. Also, I have nothing against Steven Tyler. Even if Howard does.

Obadiah took Howard to a karaoke bar the way he always did when they got together. He smiled and joked that it was nice to listen to people who had even less talent than Howard.

Howard rolled his eyes and went along because sometimes it was nice to see people enjoy music, even if they sang for shit. Sometimes the fucking music industry took the fun out of music.

They sat in a booth in a corner, because Howard didn't want to have to deal with fans. He loved them, he did, but when he was out with Obi, he just wanted to decompress. Obi ordered a whiskey and Howard got his usual sparkling water. Sobriety was a bitch, he missed the fuzzy edges, but it was better than being dead. Mostly.

"So are you gonna take the gig with America's Got Talent?" Obi asked, sipping his drink while some giggling coeds belted out I Will Survive.

"It's American Idol and fuck no! You know how I feel about Tyler."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Howard, really? You're pissed because he got to Maria first?"

"What?" Howard gave Obi an indignant look. "Is that what the asshole is telling people?"

Obi rolled his eyes. "No, it's not—When would I talk to Steven Tyler, Howard?"

"How should I know?" Howard took a swig of his water. "And no, it's not. I don’t like that fucker because he once told Rolling Stone he thought I couldn't sing my way out of a paper bag."

Obi rubbed his forehead, looking pained. "Your life is… It...."

"Yeah," Howard said, smiling, "it's pretty awesome. Admit it, you love being my friend. I get you into all the cool parties."

"It was great when we were kids, Howard. Now that we're in our forties…" Obi trailed off.

"It's even better?" He gently nudged Obi's leg with his foot. "Admit it, you love having all those pretty girls vying for your attention."

"Vying for my wallet, you mean." Obi runs his hand over his head.

"Hey, you're the face of Stark Industries for another year. You might as well milk it for all it's worth before Tony takes over the spotlight."

"He'd rather be in the lab than the board room. It would be better if you—"

Howard waved away Obi's words. "That ship sailed twenty years ago."

Obi opened his mouth to respond, but Howard was only half-listening as the familiar strains of Brilliant Disguise started up. And then he wasn't even half-listening to Obi because the kid on stage, a lumbering blond whose face was red with embarrassment, was singing and holy shit. The kid's voice was gritty and raw in a way that made Howard's chest ache and his pulse race. There was talent there, Howard could feel it in his bones, and it transformed the kid into something beautiful in a rough sort of way.

His mouth went dry and he took a drink of water. Then he got up, ignoring Obi's startled enquiries, and walked up to the stage. He felt like he was having a goddamn out of body experience and he wondered if maybe the bartender had roofied him.

Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this kid who was singing like his heart was broken. Jesus, Howard had never felt this way before.

The song ended and he almost called for the kid to sing another one, but it was too late. The kid stepped off the stage and Howard moved forward, grabbing the kid's arm.

"Hey," he said, and the kid turned. "That was great. That was *really* great."

The kid's eyes widened and he blushed bright red. "You… You're H. Stark!"

Howard blinked a moment, disconcerted before his brain reengaged. Oh, right, rock star. He smiled. "I just go by Howard these days. Felt the initial was a little pretentious."

"Oh, um, right. I… I'm Steve." The kid, Steve, swallowed hard.

"And he's a really big fan." A brunet about Steve's age came up to them and leaned against Steve's shoulder. "I'm Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And *he*--" Bucky pointed a thumb at Steve. "He has all your records." Steve looked scandalized, but Bucky just smiled lazily. "Can he buy you a drink?"

"Bucky!" Steve elbowed Bucky in the ribs. "What he meant was, can we buy you some sparkling water or iced tea? They serve really good virgin drinks here too."

"I'm fine. But I… I have a drink at my table." He gestured towards Obi.

"Oh. Is that your friend glaring at us?"

Howard glanced over; yup, he was glaring all right. "Yeah, that's Obi. Hey, it's getting loud in here. You wanna… You wanna go outside?"

Steve turned a bright red and Bucky whispered something into his ear that made him go almost purple. He shoved Bucky away. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Cool, I'll meet you out back in a few minutes." When Steve nodded his assent, Howard hurried over to his table. "Gotta go, Obi. We can do this another night, yeah?"

"You're ditching me for a guy? When did you start batting for the other team?"

"What—It's not like that, okay! This kid's got talent. Real talent and I think Peggy could really take him places." Howard pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Right." Obi raised an eyebrow and took another drink of his whiskey. "You do that."

Howard rolled his eyes and hurried out the door towards the parking lot. He scanned the area until he saw Steve, leaning up against a motorcycle. He was more of a car guy, but even he could tell the bike was beautiful.

"Hey," Steve said, smiling nervously. "So what did you want to talk about?"

He stuck his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling unsure. "Where's your friend?"

"Still inside flirting with a couple of girls." Steve shrugged.

"Oh." He swallowed hard. "You're a great singer. I mean, really great. I'd like you to meet my agent."

Steve blinked at him. "O-Okay. Is that all you wanted to talk about?" For some reason Steve sounded disappointed.

"Yes," he said slowly. "What other reason would I have?"

Steve got this determined look on his face. Then Steve squared his shoulders and yanked Howard into a kiss.

Howard gasped in surprise because, holy shit, Steve could kiss. The kid's tongue was doing fucking loop-de-loops in Howard's mouth. And Howard knew he should do something but his brain felt like it had short-circuited.

Steve finally backed away a few minutes later with a wet sound that went straight to Howard's dick, He stared at Steve, his mouth feeling swollen and bruised, his brain trying to stutter back life.

"Can we go to your place?" Steve asked.

And Howard should have said, no. He should have said, I'm not gay. He should have said, what the fuck was that? But what he actually said was, "I'm staying at my kid's house."

"But it's big, right? I mean, I saw the episode about it on MTV Cribs. It's *huge*." Steve ran a hand down Howard's chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans.

Howard's dick throbbed and he let out a little gasp. "Are we taking your bike because I came with Obi?"

"Sure." Steve hooked his fingers in the waistband of Howard's jeans and smiled.

"Christ, I'm not gay." He was about to say more, but Steve licked his lips and… "Okay, maybe I'm a little gay. Maybe I…" He whimpered when Steve kissed him again, hot and languid, like they had all the time in the world.

"I'm going to make you come on my dick," Steve said softly.

Howard groaned and rocked his hips against Steve's. "Then what are we fucking waiting for?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nothing." Steve pulled away, then handed Howard his helmet. "Do you have lube and condoms or do I need to stop off somewhere?"

"We're good." He quickly put on the helmet, his heart pounding and his mouth dry. God, he was forty-one. He wondered if this qualified as a mid-life or a sexual identity crisis.

*****

Howard felt like a teenager again, sneaking into the house, stealing kisses from each other as they crept down the dark corridor toward the bedroom. This was insane, he didn't go for guys, he just—well, crushes didn't count, did they? Or fantasies or… or the half-drunken make-out with his former bandmates on stage.

Okay, definitely a sexual identity crisis. Except… except not. Because, honestly, Steve was hot and Steve, Jesus wept, Steve was hiding a fucking crowbar in his jeans and that made Howard want to kneel on the floor and see how much he could get down his throat before he choked.

"God," he moaned, pulling Steve in for a kiss. "I think I want your dick in my mouth."

Steve chuckled softly and kneaded Howard through his jeans. "Bedroom first, then I'll let you have a little taste."

Shit, shit, shit! He grabbed Steve by the shirt and hauled Steve the rest of the way to the bedroom. Then he dropped to his knees on the thankfully plush carpet—he wasn't a fucking kid anymore, all that jumping off of stages did a number on his joints—and mouthed Steve's dick through his jeans.

Steve grabbed Howard by the hair and gently humped his face. "Howard. God, Howard, I want your mouth, I do. I wanna fuck it until you choke, I wanna fuck It until your throat is raw and my come is dripping down your chin. But I really, *really* want to fuck you first. You ever done that before?"

Howard closed his eyes and pressed his open mouth against Steve's crotch. He forced himself to breathe, slow and even, so he wouldn't come in his pants like some fifteen year old. "N-No," he said, the word muffled.

Steve tugged his head until he sat back on his heels and looked up. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Did he? After a moment, he nodded.

"You sure?" Steve bit his bottom lip and frowned.

"Steve, I've done some pretty freaky shit with people, even before I got into music. This… This is not freaky shit. This is pretty fucking normal." Howard rose to his feet and pulled off his t-shirt. "So are you gonna screw me or what?"

Steve smiled and, goddammit, he was gonna have teenage girls all over America creaming in their panties once they got his music career going.

*****

Howard cursed and arched up as Steve pounded his ass. "I fucking love dick."

"Yeah." Steve panted harshly and worked himself into Howard frantically. "Yeah you do. God, you're tight. You're so…"

"Uh! Undiscovered country, babe." Gah! He wanted to touch his dick, he was so fucking close, his dick was drooling on his stomach, and he knew if he could only touch himself, he could come. But Steve held his hands against the mattress. "I don't… I don't think I can do it! I don't… Ngh! Steve!"

"Yeah, you can. You can, Howard. Come on, come on, you love this. You love my dick in your ass. Gets you so fucking hot. You're gonna be so sore tomorrow. Every time you move, you're gonna remember all the things I did to you. You're gonna remember how you reacted, like a little cock-slut. So eager for me, Howard."

Howard whined low in his throat and squeezed his eyes closed because, Steve was right. God, he was such a slut for Steve's dick. As much as he wanted to come, he also didn’t want it to stop.

"You're just a slut, aren't you? My little whore!" Steve released one of Howard's hands to reach down and twist a nipple.

Holy fucking shit! Howard's body convulsed as an orgasm slammed through his body. He rode the waves of pleasure as best he could, his brain shorting out. When he came to, because, damn, he'd blacked out, Steve was gently wiping him down with a damp washcloth. He hummed softly and Steve gave him a startled look, then laughed.

"Are you humming Dirty Girl?"

Howard hummed a few more bars. "What?" And God, his voice sounded wrecked. "I hum when I'm happy. "

"Okay." Steve smiled at him and settled next to him on the bed. "So am I the dirty girl or are you?"

"Me, obviously. I was the one who just got reamed, after all. Then he softly crooned the chorus. "Dirty girl doesn't like to be alone. She's just a dirty girl, she likes to make you moan. She's just a dirty girl. Oh, oh, oh." Critics had called it porn-pop and appalling, but Howard didn't care. It was his first number one hit and he would always love it. Even if it was terrible.

"My mother hated it when I played that song." Steve gently kissed Howard's jaw.

"That's okay. My mom did, too." He sighed, content and sleepy.

Steve chuckled softly. "So, I don’t know the rules here."

"Rules?" Howard squinted at him.

"Do I leave or… Or what?"

"If you leave, you won't be able to show me how to give a blowjob." His face heated slightly, but hell, he'd already been fucked. Might as well go all out.

"You sure? I don't… I mean, it's okay if you're freaking out." Steve leaned up on his elbows and looked over at Howard.

Howard grunted and closed his eyes. "I'll freak out when I'm dead. So, stay. We'll have breakfast tomorrow, you'll teach me how to give blowjobs, and maybe after we'll go for ice cream."

"Okay," Steve said softly, curling up against Howard.

He pressed a kiss to the nearest bit of Steve, which was an ear. God, he was going to be so sore tomorrow; for some reason, that made him smile.

This entry was originally posted at http://blakefancier.dreamwidth.org/827729.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

My hands hurt

2012-07-15T06:12:28Z

So, I finally finished my Marvel Big Bang fic. Whew! I mean, it still needs tweaking, but the hard part is over.

And I just finished another story in one of my series, so yay! I'll probably work on a few more small stories in my ongoing series. All three or four of them, then work on the werewolf!Howard fic that's been tumbling around in my brain.

Now though, I should probably get some rest.

This entry was originally posted at http://blakefancier.dreamwidth.org/827543.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

Dear Marvel fanfic writers,

2012-07-14T22:50:51Z

Marijuana didn't magically sprout up in the 1960s, it was around in the 30s. There was even this film caller Tell Your Children (though you might know it as Reefer Madness) that came out in 1936. Steve would know what it was, he might even know people who smoked it, might have even tried it himself.

Jesus.

Mostly, I guess, I'm tired of writers treating Steve like he's an airhead who's lived in a protective bubble his whole life.

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I should give in the my muse, shouldn't I?

2012-07-11T06:11:54Z

Why am I plotting a Captain America werewolf AU? WHY AM I PLOTTING A CAPTAIN AMERICA WEREWOLF AU? What i need to be doing is finishing the Marvel big bang fic that I'm like, 75% done with so I can finish up the bajillion WIP series I've got going.

Son of a bitch, why is this my life?

*criz* *criz so much*

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Writing and stuff

2012-07-07T07:08:17Z

I don't know why I tend to focus on the prosaic when I write.

Well, okay, that's not true. I guess, I think the prosaic is so much more important that those brief shining moments of our life or even the brief dark moments of our life. Life is a series of prosaic moments and the parts of that that we focus on tell more about us than anything else, IMO.

*shrugs*

Or maybe I just need to go to bed because it's midnight. You decide. :D

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Happy Birthday Canada!

2012-07-01T14:23:44Z

You look fantastic for your age! And Happy Birthday to me! :D

Hope everyone has a nice day. Eat something maple flavored, if you can.

This entry was originally posted at http://blakefancier.dreamwidth.org/826391.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

Question

2012-06-30T16:19:54Z

Whats's the age of consent in New York? All my research says 17, but I just got told by another fan that it is 16. This is about my Teenage Dream story where Steve is 16 and Howard is 41.

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Let's dance!

2012-06-29T19:34:11Z

I am going to make up a dance. A birthday dance. A dance for me and Canada! *dances* I will dance it on Sunday because it will be my birthday!

Then on Wednesday I will celebrate (Captain) America's birthday.

This entry was originally posted at http://blakefancier.dreamwidth.org/825912.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

OMG! OMG!

2012-06-24T21:42:20Z

I'm SO excited! My birthday is in a week and my mom is coming up to celebrate with me. It's going to be so much fun!

And if anyone wants to send me a Howard Stark or Steve Rogers or Roj Blake, please feel free! They are always on my wishlists. :D

Also, nothing to do with my birthday, but I watch Before Stonewall last night. Wow, what an interesting documentary. Though, I wanted to hear more about what Audre Lorde and Dorothy Hillaire had to say.

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Britishisms

2012-06-16T06:11:49Z

I would just like to apologize for all the Americanisms I dropped into my Blakes 7 fic. It must have fucking drove all you British fen mad. I now know your pain. I don't know how many Avengers stories I've read with blatant Britishisms. Steve Rogers, Captain America, wouldn't call someone a 'bloke.' And it's a pay raise (or just 'raise'). Parking lot, not car park, etc, etc. I didn't think that would annoy me, but it actually does! So weird! I mean, not that I want to spork my eyes out or anything, but it does pull me out of the story.

Now cue the, "well, in some parts of America they *would* say *insert example here.*"

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WOOHOO!

2012-06-11T05:11:19Z

Three weeks until my birthday!

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blakefancier @ 2012-06-03T02:54:00

2012-06-03T09:55:30Z

Why hello 3 am.

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Boogie Shoes!

2012-06-03T05:39:46Z

Obviously, I need to listen to music until my heart is light. Light as a cloud!

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Ugh!

2012-06-03T05:18:47Z

I'm all keyed up and I can't sleep. Why do I allow myself to get into intense discussions when I know I should be sleeping soon? Especially when they're about things that are emotionally touchy for me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

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Sometimes I think I do fandom wrong

2012-05-28T04:48:58Z

I don't like Spike from Buffy/Angel.

Batman annoys the fuck out of me.

I want to punch Tony Stark in the face most days (though I do love Steve/Tony fic).

Kerr Avon makes me want to shake him until his brain falls out.

I don't think Loki or Snape are misunderstood woobies who just need a hug.

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