born with a prophet's curse

so.

ever_obsessed — Wed, 22 May 2013 01:35:50 GMT

I have heard spoilers from the new Trek movies, spoilers that I was expecting but still hoping to be wrong about.

Am so fucking glad I did not give these whitecasting motherfuckers my money.

The funny thing, though?

I've been writing this epic S/K fic I had to set aside years ago for a few days just on the fuel of my rage and... you guys... fuck this shit.

Once turns from a show based around Snow/Emma/Regina to a show based around.... Rumple, his son and... the destiny of his... grandson, and we lose another female character (Ruby) because they won't fucking give her actress anything to work with? Totes happy for Ory but really? Really?

And this casting shit, from my most beloved of fandoms?

Fuck. This. Shit.

The difference between this shit and the delight that The Great Gatsby continues to give me is... seriously a fucking contrast you guys.

fic snippets: untitled red queen fic (once upon a time) (2)

ever_obsessed — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 05:04:00 GMT

ruby/regina (background past emma/regina, will include various others)
pg-13, mostly canon only through 2x11, ~900
Long after the destruction, as they struggle through the recovery, there is (again) a mayor and a waitress.

She is still the best-known waitress in town, not-so-little Ruby with the not-so-blinding red lipstick and the deliriously tall heels, but she doesn’t remember the last time anyone tried to make a grab for any body part they weren’t supposed to. And now Snow’s hair is finally nearing its old length, Henry’s shattered leg has been healed for months, Archie has lost some of his terrible skittishness—

And no one knows that the reinstated mayor cannot help desperately muffled snickers when Ruby licks a trail across the crease of her hip in the darkest parts of the night.

The first sign of a problem comes from bright eyes gazing at her narrowly one morning across the diner.

Ruby thinks nothing of it as she heads over to the sheriff’s table and tops off her almost untouched coffee, only vaguely noting that Emma hasn’t even mixed her jam into her eggs the way she always does. And the utensils are still wrapped actually, and Emma has a curious expression on her face.

There’s a hint of ‘I’m watching you’ in her squint that leaves Ruby a little confused and more than a little amused.

“Something wrong with your breakfast?”

“Everything’s great.”

Emma’s voice is a little sharper than it should be, maybe a little high-pitched, even a little… crazed, almost.

Ruby says, “ah” even as she feels her lips curve into a smile, can feel her eyebrows lifting in amusement.

“Want me to grab you something else?”

A muscle in Emma’s cheek twitches, once and then twice, before: “No.”

Like Ruby’s just offered to run over her dog instead of bring her something else to eat.

“Right,” Ruby replies because she’s been in a pleasant mood for months now and Emma’s moods are as impossible to curtail as any of Regina’s have ever been, and Archie is peering at the coffee pot in her hand hopefully from his booth because he’s sometimes (always) too nervous to call for a refill.

Emma will call her over if she changes her mind.

There is a shop on the other side of town (run by the woman with the pet geese and the impressively ecological house that lives near the border) that sells too many specialty drinks and baked goods to count. Ruby’s always liked the woman (she’d actually taught Ruby everything she knows about making coffee that doesn’t suck) but Granny’s had a feud going with her since they’d wound up in Storybrooke decades before.

Granny doesn’t like to admit that there certainly is room enough in the town for the both of them.

So when Granny starts banging pots and pans around in the back during what counts as their breakfast rush, Ruby is pretty sure that it’s about the woman on the other side of town and knows better than to mention anything.

Until it goes on for a good half hour.

Then: “What's wrong?”

“She went to that woman,” Granny blurts, voice heated and a little crazed as she slams a frozen block of lasagna down on one of the open counters. “Got one of those fruity coffee things— supporting your local business, my rear—”

Ruby says, “Granny” and waits, half her focus on the clatter and chatter of the crowds just beyond the kitchen door.

“Our sheriff,” Granny huffs with the first hint of sanity since the banging had started, “walked right past us this morning holding on to one of that woman's take-out cups.” Mouth quirked in dislike, she glances up at Ruby with a level of fierceness unwarranted by the situation. “Graham never once went by that woman's place.”

Not true.

He'd just been good enough to not let Granny have any inkling.

“I'm sure it was a one-time thing, Granny.”

“So she hasn't been giving you the evil eye the last eleven times she's been in here?” Ruby straightens, frowns in confusion. “That last time wasn't the first time, Ruby. You do realize she's been looking at you like she wants to smash a coffee pot over your head for over a month, don't you?”

She starts to laugh, honestly uncomfortable for no reason she can understand, but it dies off within a few moments when Granny's face remains unchanged, as comforting as granite and so much more stubborn. “What are you talking about?”

“Hell if I know anything about what's going on in her head,” the elderly woman replies with an edge that was the entire reason Graham had kept his trips to the other side of town such a careful secret. “But she's moved from angry to petty in the last two days and we both know why she'd be focusing it on you and it's the last thing this town needs right now, so if you and—” Granny stops, considers, and it's new, how she chooses her words so carefully for Ruby's benefit.

“You don't have to—”

Granny glances at her, expression so knowing that Ruby goes abruptly quiet.

“I'd handle it now rather than later,” Granny says after a careful beat. “Our sheriff is too hot-headed for her own good on a good day and we both know those two set each other off like lighter fluid and kindling.” She can't help her grimace, the starkness of the near-destruction the two women had nearly rained down on each other. “For what it's worth...” There it is again, Granny considering each word so carefully. “I don't think she's the worst you could do.”

There's a warmth in Ruby's chest, something soft but strong growing as Granny manages a nervous but sincere smile.

Cora had caused more than just destruction when she had brought herself to Storybrooke.

fic snippets: untitled red queen fic (once upon a time)

ever_obsessed — Sat, 12 Jan 2013 19:20:04 GMT

working on an avengers au fic but this keeps poking me and tormenting me so I'm just going to add to this as it finishes itself. cause. yes, fic, i am your bitch.

ruby/regina (background past emma/regina, will include various others)
pg-13, spoilers through early/mid s2, ~1100
Long after the destruction, as they struggle through the recovery, there is (again) a mayor and a waitress.

Regina is one of only a handful to have tried her spaghetti.

“You use frozen meatballs,” Regina mentions for the fifteenth time from where she’s peering at the empty bag left on the kitchen counter, and Ruby’s moved from rolling her eyes to smiling dismissively.

After the last year and a half, few are as good at picking their battles as Ruby Lucas.

“I could wash the other dishes before dinner.”

“Or we can clean the dishes after dinner,” she assures, aware of the way Regina is beginning to shift on her stool like a nervous animal and knowing better than to draw any attention to it.

“If I do them now I’ll have less to do later.”

“Unless I do them later.”

Regina falls quiet for several moments, draws a breath and lets it out slowly. A minute passes, another, and Ruby is finally satisfied with the pasta enough to take it off the heat and walk it two feet to the sink.

“The colander is—”

But Ruby is already bringing the colander out from the cabinet to drain the noodles, and smartly keeps quiet as Regina’s words die off in a little mutter of frustration. This done Ruby returns to the stove to peer intently into the bubbling pot on the back burner. “And I don’t need fresh meatballs when my pasta sauce is this good.”

“It would still be better to use fresh ingredients.”

Regina is as preoccupied with organic food and healthy eating as she’d been when Henry had still lived with her, and Ruby has the extra ten pounds to prove that Regina is as good a cook as she’s ever been.

“Yeah but the pasta is whole grain and my pasta sauce is completely fresh so I doubt a few frozen meatballs a couple times a month will be too much of a problem.” Said meatballs are pulled from the oven, the sauce is taken off the heat and when Regina slips surreptitiously over to assist, Ruby accepts the backup. “I haven’t actually had your meatballs though…”

“I grind the meat myself,” Regina offers as she picks down her red set of flatware and turns her attention to the glasses. “The ricotta is fresh, and the herbs come from my garden.” Ruby watches her as she sets the table, smoothes her fingers almost obsessively over the cloth napkins and fiddles with the trivets, and it causes a newly-familiar ache inside Ruby, this woman’s awful uncertainty at being taken care of.

The harsh responses have stopped completely, tempered by Ruby’s stubborn calm— but the nervousness seems sometimes to be getting worse, Regina increasingly tense as she struggles to fill her time. There’s plenty of mayor work to be done, even more than ever before when it comes to one half of the town, but there are no parent-teacher conferences, no shoes or toys to clean up, no movies to rent every weekend for mom and son movie night.

There is only construction work that seems unending and meetings with groups who struggle against the subtle encroachment of the old traditions, first year anniversaries of deaths and the rare birth of a new baby.

This damaged and hastily-rebuilt Regina Mills is restless and uneasy, the house filled with that sour scent that Ruby knows as loneliness.

“We... could have your meatballs next time we do spaghetti.”

A subtle glance over one shoulder to do find Regina stealing a moment to size Ruby up despite the careful courtship, the long hours and days and months of impossible patience. "I knew you enjoyed my cooking.”

Triumphant, a little smug— and only Ruby seems to be able to find the desperate relief hidden beneath.

Ruby smiles brightly at Regina (and she will never miss the vaguely confused expression that smile always draws from Regina even if she hopes that one day it'll much less) and brings the food to the table. Regina finishes the last bit of organization as she steals the time she needs to pop the garlic bread into the oven for a moment.

She can almost feel Regina finally beginning to relax a few feet behind her, and when they eat, Regina is at ease in the way she only is now when they sit together for their private meals.

Ruby holds these truths to her heart, these splinters of a girl broken down to fit into the roles demanded of her:

Every night Regina sleeps flat on her back, arms draped lightly across her belly, and every morning she heads out even before breakfast to check her garden, make sure that every last leaf is in correct order. She color-coordinates everything in her office and listens to Motown (of all things) in the car when she drives. All of Henry’s pictures are carefully organized into albums, scrapbooks, photo boxes and she remembers his first word (“Mooma”) and still has a picture of the two of them perched on her nightstand that she looks at every night before she turns off the light.

She hates most desserts but has a weakness for most things with apples (“sour apple is not a flavor, Ruby”) or old-world style tortes, and she actually doesn’t like seafood (she always makes a little ‘ew’ face when she first starts to eat something with shrimp in it) but she’s crazy about vegetables, especially roasted dishes.

She is afraid, sometimes, of closed doors or loud voices, but hides it so well that even Ruby sometimes forgets.

She hates movies where the young female lead marries the older man and hates most horror movies (only owns a few of the classic Hitchcock-era pieces) and positively loathes silly family comedies. She does like prime time dramas and had spent the first month of their relationship hiding the fact that she is obsessed with game shows from Ruby.

(They watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy! when they’re together at her place these days, and Ruby’s better at the first and Regina’s so terrifyingly good at the second that Ruby almost wants to make her try to get on it).

She visits Graham’s grave now, at least a few times a month, and Ruby used to sometimes follow only close enough to be sure nobody is going to try anything stupid, and now she doesn’t need to at all.

Sometimes when Regina’s bored and done with her work, she slips into the kitchen to bake.

She makes some of the best casseroles Ruby has ever tasted, better even than Granny’s.

She kisses the skin of Ruby’s knees every time they are together now, and smooths her palms over the bare skin of her thighs and looks up at Ruby and checks that final time (each time) that Ruby wants it all.

She laughs, sometimes, when they’re watching old repeats of game shows (Regina folding laundry and Ruby perched on the couch) and those laughs leave Ruby breathless. Because her face lights up, color rising in her cheeks and eyes crinkling and the laugh itself is rich and a little crazy, and the sound makes Ruby think that she gets why cats can purr the way they do, thinks one day that laugh will make even her purr in delight.

Ruby thinks about these things when Regina roils within her skin and attacks with everything she has left inside her, when her eyes grow dark with the rage of a trapped and wounded child, and it isn’t hard at all to deal with the moods.

"he looks like a pink nightmare"

ever_obsessed — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 21:33:04 GMT

First round of Christmas cards officially going out.

I'M SO HAPPY I'M CRYING A LITTLE BIT.

i miss my eljay guys

ever_obsessed — Sun, 09 Dec 2012 08:50:24 GMT

I just got a review for a fic I didn't even remember writing for a ship I didn't even remember writing and now I'm torn between surprise and confusion and happy.

How can I forget what I write?

well, shit man

ever_obsessed — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 04:27:24 GMT

Sitting knitting and writing fic for Avengers universe and Once Upon A Time universe.

Listens to Nic Cage in the backgrounds because others in the house are watching Kick-Ass.

Knitting... knitting... scrolling through Tumblr... knitting... writing --

HOLY SHIT I MUST WRITE BEN/RILEY AGAIN.

And... take a guess what document I have open now?

BTW, Michelle, I am finding no Ben/Riley ANYTHING on Tumblr.

So here I am, mentioning it to you. Just. You know. Saying.

doop doop

ever_obsessed — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 08:47:13 GMT

It's Christmas card time, and it's in the home stretch.

Anybody who wants one, leave a comment (all screened, btw) and you'll get one in the mail, my dears.

power is freedom: everything sucks unless you're lucky (once upon a time)

ever_obsessed — Mon, 15 Oct 2012 08:06:25 GMT

so then i rambled. sorry guise.

First off, I'm still sick and tired of Jane Espenson's obsession with magic=drugs, and got sick of it three minutes into it when she started this shit on Buffy years ago. I'm much more fascinated by the concept of magic=power, and all that that entails in a society that clearly is shown to be unequal along gender and class lines in FTL. And god, I got more than a little squicked by the undertones between Regina and Rumpie the last episode, not even kidding, but god knows I was waiting for it, the way it's been clearly laid out for us.

As for Regina's crazy murder fantasies, it hits me way harder than I'd like it to. I know a lot of people who look at episodes like that and interpret it (much like Regina herself did) as an awful unforgivable thing that said something horrific about herself. The truth, as I know so well from my own periods of extreme emotional duress and trauma: your brain lashes out in any way it can to cope with said duress. It's not a mark against you as a person, it's your brain struggling to process and find some way to fix whatever is causing you the problem -- often resulting in the kind of crazy shit that Regina is clearly experiencing. Because she can't allow herself to focus it on the king (too powerful and the symbol of what she's trying to escape) or Daniel (dead, stolen from her, and too painful to even think about anyway) or her mother, god forbid, because of so many reasons that she still doesn't deal with it even if she gets rid of the woman in the end of the episode itself -- Cora is gone, not forgotten and never truly faced. Snow, who was honestly childish and spoiled but also, you know, was a rich and privileged little girl who'd never known anything other than adoration and a loneliness she NEEDED Regina to fill, of course becomes the only thing the brain can lash out at.

Not an excuse but only an idiot looks at it in such black and white terms.

It's trauma, it's extreme pain and stress and loss and violation and the stripping away of hope that Regina's dug for herself despite a childhood of control, and there's no weakness in being weak, not in that way. A person in that position needs an end to the duress, needs an escape so that they can begin to process, to cope, to think and breath and function as themselves instead of a cog in a machine they can no longer even hope to stop.

And as we know, Regina got none of that.

Pressure applied to pressure, every last bit of control stripped away -- and finally offered an out, the first possibility of freedom that she's been able to find in who knows how many months.

I find it interesting that Rumplestiltskin made no real mention of how much of a price Regina would have to pay for this power, of the push and pull that he always mentions to every other lost soul that we've seen him really key into in the way that he seems to key into our Regina in their shared scenes in 2x02. This power was offered more as a key to a house meant to be hers, a fruit painted as something always meant to be hers -- and there's a real disturbing undertone in how he shares this power with her, in how he is the one to offer her an out, in his delight in them being "together" again that seems way too sexual and way too obviously imbalanced.

As for what he could get from her, why he'd even need her if he's so powerful --

Rumplestiltskin has already lost what he'd loved most -- and the question becomes whether or not he's even capable of love -- certainly he was a coward as a man who, upon getting power, flipped with a pretty telling ease into cruelty despite his son's pretty blatant attempts to get him to come back, come home, to let it the hell go and be the man he used to be. There's been some discussion I've seen as to whether or not he could fight the corrupting influence of the power he got hit with, and certainly "the dark one" doesn't sound all that reassuring if one is hoping to stay good after getting dosed with it but still -- there's a stark contrast to the man he was before he became the dark one, and the girl Regina was before she became the Evil Queen.

A coward, a poor man clearly on the very bottom of the class system, with clear problems with himself, with the man he sees in the mirror, with no real hope in sight or way to improve his lot --

And a girl raised with wealth but in an obviously abusive family system, a domineering mother and a pushover of a father, and clearly determined despite her fear to continue on, to keep trying, to absolutely not want the power and wealth that was hers by birthright but the life that had already been denied her, believing that love was the greatest magic of all --

Not power, but love.

It does bring up the question of whether Rumplestiltskin himself might have had a chance himself, and if his wife really was tired of him and her son, really did want adventure for herself (and really, who could blame her -- but that's another question for another post) to the extent where she may have abandoned them (and it kind of stings, some of my issues right here, how I really can SEE both sides of it) then he may have already been fully turned off of the magic and beauty and power of love way before the magic settled into him.

In the story the Miller's daughter is quite literally offered as a sacrifice and left to fend for herself while her father hopes to reap the rewards -- spin the straw into gold, make me a great man -- the woman as sacrifice, and my heart hurts a little bit for Cora if they even begin to stray towards that telling and I truly do get the feeling that, much like her daughter and the imp who offered her what may have been, to her the poor miller's even more helpless daughter, her only out from her own depressing lot in life.

I don't think it's the magic itself, again, that corrupts - I think it's the power finally offered to those who has suffered without power, at the hands of those with power -- and I hate the thought of that getting lost amidst the magic as a drug storyline that just keeps circling back around again and again and again with JE.

And I compare all three of these characters to Snow when she went dark, to the little family that gathered around her and pulled her back and saved her, and I just want all of the stories this show hasn't given me yet -- give them to me -- I NEED THEM.

i don't even know, you guise, i don't know, I JUST HAVE ALL OF THESE FEELINGS AND I'M SO TIRED, SOMEONE TUCK ME IN, I'M SO TIRED AND I NEED TO WATCH THE NEXT EPISODE AND WRITE FIC AND IT JUST HITS ME RIGHT IN THE FEELS AND ISSUES, OKAY.

plas halp.

ever_obsessed — Wed, 10 Oct 2012 06:04:49 GMT

i may have fallen into tumblr.

i blame emma/regina and all the knitting porn i'm finding and like and.

brb, crying forever because i know i can't escape now.

you could HEAR the capslock.

ever_obsessed — Thu, 13 Sep 2012 05:14:47 GMT

things overheard while listening to the man play video games while i knit:

come here, and receive your death.

wait, hold on:

COME HERE, AND RECEIVE YOUR DEATH.

it was. quite impressive.

meme snippet 2: cleaning the windows

ever_obsessed — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 07:51:09 GMT

psych, pg-13, "cleaning the windows" for boomwizard

Said quickly and a little frantically from behind him as his brain processes much more slowly than he can remember in the recent past, his beer lifted halfway to his mouth: “Remember you can’t shoot him.”

May be a sign Juliet has been my partner too long, one section of his brain notes down vaguely, and watches Spencer spray more of the Windex onto Carlton's window. This done he rips more paper towels off the roll he’s holding and continues cleaning the glass—

Cleaning— the glass—

Of Carlton’s window—

Of his house—

Cleaning his house’s windows, from where he’s standing knee deep in Carlton’s bushes—

“You know he stalks when he's worried—” An awkward skipping silence when Juliet notices the twitch of Carlton’s shoulders under his shirt, the twitch of his fingers around the glass bottle— “You were almost run over— I told you to call him and check in, he was threatening to watch Hot Fuzz—”

Spencer finally pauses— spends a long time gazing at him from the darkness outside his house—

He leans forward to breath against the glass— and a moment later presses his palm into the fog only to drag it away and down with ridiculous slowness— still staring at Carlton above the handprint with the same unblinking stare.

Behind Carlton: “Oh, god, I think he watched Titanic.”

lololol, i'm so sorry, bb, i know this is not what you were expecting but there is more femslash coming from this meme, i promise, bb, i promise.

meme snippet 1: making the bed

ever_obsessed — Mon, 10 Sep 2012 06:15:07 GMT

lost, r, "making the bed" for edoran

Ji Yeon makes it look easy.

She feigns a study of the bruise darkening low on her belly in the mirror as she watches her ex-boyfriend’s (ex-friend, best friend, almost husband) wife shake out the sheets that had been tossed to the floor hours before. She’s wearing the old terry cloth bathrobe she never wears around Aaron, and her hair’s still sticking up at the back of her head.

Clementine watches, silently engrossed, and Ji Yeon is the only person she knows that sometimes forgets to take off a sock (only one sock, it’s kind of adorable) during sex.

She’s still wearing the one she’d forgotten to take off hours before, and she’s already smoothing her hands across the cover sheet she’s returned to the bed she shared with her husband.

Before she can stop herself: “You’re better at sleeping around than me.”

Unsaid, not something that's she's ashamed of so much as amused by, especially in hindsight: and I’ve had a dozen slips on either side of the fence.

But the woman she sometimes wishes she’d be okay marrying (she doesn’t have any interest in marrying anyone, she’d even said no to Aaron all three times, so she doesn’t have any interest in that concept or applying it to her existence or anybody else’s) glances at her in the looking glass, and adjusts the way the pillows sit just-so on the bed.

“You never mean it as much as I do.”

first of the fics, and revealing none of the ships that i rolled dice to match the prompts to.

you guise, you guise.

ever_obsessed — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 07:13:30 GMT

I am about to be neck-deep into my Christmas knitting, and I am already working through the lists for the Christmas cards for this year. Yes. Yes, I know it's August. But it's close to the end of August, and then it's going to be September, and I never get anything done in October because my family loves Halloween, and you KNOW how crazy ~~Thanksgiving month~~ ~~the month before the BEST month~~ November is, okay, SO DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, OKAY --

In fact, GOD, I AM ACTUALLY BEHIND SCHEDULE.

~~so here i am totally writing porn, fucking dammit.~~

brb crying forever.

ever_obsessed — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 05:32:21 GMT

Do you know what the most tear-inducingly delicious thing is?

Let me tell you, LET ME TELL YOU THIS.

Grapefruit, red grapefruit frozen, it is the most delicious thing in the world, I HAVE LITERALLY BEEN LEFT TEARY-EYED WHEN I HAVE HAD THIS BEFORE AND I WAS JUST TEARY-EYED AGAIN, AND IT IS SO DELICIOUS IT IS INDESCRIBABLE, I CANNOT DESCRIBE THIS TO YOU BUT IT IS DELICIOUS.

lol, i first wrote "enducingly," my joy took my spelling with it.

it razzled, i'm dazzled.

ever_obsessed — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 06:49:03 GMT

(gifs stolen blatantly from my beetch boomwizard and it's her own fault and i blame her and the stupid gifs made me watch the fucking show in the first place.)

So you all know I started watching Warehouse 13, right, and we already know how it started, right, and I started with s2 because that's when it got gay, right, and I was all like, THIS IS GOING TO SUCK BUT I HAVE TO PROVE IT TO THE WORLD THAT IT SUCKS and then it lodged itself into my chest cavity like a chestburster and left me crying and laughing and crying forever.

a visual representation of the evul fantasticness of this show:

Because Pete is the first genuinely lovable and lovingly genuine and never-irritating male character I have seen in I don't even know how long and Claudia is the same cookie cutter young techie character that always annoys the fuck out of me but all of a sudden I CARED ABOUT HER AND THEN SHE WAS A BADASS COMING INTO HER OWN AND IT WAS FANTASTIC AND AMAZING AND BELIEVABLE and Artie makes my heart pitter-patter and pitch in my chest and all of the history lols and geeky references and the man was watching it with me because he got invested in the awesomeness too and he laughed so hard because I lost it and almost flung myself off our couch when they played the Amok Time theme (asdfghjkl; crying forever from the beauty of it) and Steve made me love him and I don't even know how but I do I love him so I will smother him in my love and Mrs. F, okay, I don't even I can't even I LOVE HER SO MUCH and HAVE I MENTIONED THE HISTORY LOLS THAT MAKE THE HISTORY GEEK IN MY GET THE VAPORS and THERE ARE STRONG LADIES AND FEARLESS BITCHES EVERYWHERE AND NOBODY CARES AT ALL BECAUSE IT'S ALL GOOD AND AWESOME AND THEY LOVE THEIR STRONG LADIES and speaking of strong ladies, okay, Captain Janeway, OKAY CAPTAIN JANEWAY has given birth to the greatest son ever, AND I HAVE NOT EVEN GOTTEN TO THE STRONG LADIES, OKAY, because Myka Bering is the greatest thing in the world after HG Wells and Myka is the greatest thing since BAKED bread (suck it, sliced bread you overrated lame-o) and HG Wells, and I cannot even, and they are in love and HG is trying to woo her and Myka is all like, NO but her eyes say YES and HG Wells laughs in the face of gravity and THE FACES, OKAY, THE FACES.

PLEASE LET ME HAVE YOUR FACE BABIES, PLZKTHNX.

And then during the Time of Great Crying (otherwise known as 's3 finale' and rocks were falling and I CRIED FOREVER) and I couldn't stop crying and then I was screaming STEVE!!1! and crying, and then I was crying over HG, and then I was crying more and then I was in denial for a couple minutes because Myka has HG back and they can fix this, okay, AND THEN I CRIED MORE AND I KEPT CRYING BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, OKAY, AND NOTHING WILL KEEP THEM APART, YOU THINK DEATH CAN STOP TRUE LOVE, IT CAN ONLY DELAY IT FOR A LITTLE WHILE -- and there's totally got to be that time HG and Myka ran into Elle and Claire, or that time they have to help Shane from West Hollywood save her wife Alice from a old cursed dildo (i don't know lol it seems awesome in my head) and then there totally had to be that time that they met other various epic amazing ships and there are things I have to write and moments I must document and ASDFGHJKL; I AM CRYING FOREVER AND THE MAN THINKS IT IS HYSTERICAL.

And now me and the man are about to start s1 before we start digging out download links to S4.

I want to picspam and shit, you guys, I HAVE NOT PICSPAMMED IN FOREVER.

Send me to icons, TO ALL OF THE ICONS EVER, YOU KNOW HOW THIS GOES WITH ME.

afro circus, afro circus.

ever_obsessed — Mon, 06 Aug 2012 07:31:35 GMT

a very important announcement, at least for me, yo.

because this shawl:

is going to be made up in these colors:

and this shawl:

done in two different color variations, the first pair of colors decided on:

okay. so.

ever_obsessed — Fri, 27 Jul 2012 06:32:38 GMT

certain people who shall remain nameless who spend their time obsessively post fanmixes and gifs and other things about these two chicks from warehouse 13 (OR AT LEAST THEY DO WHEN THEY'RE NOT ACTING LIKE A POSSUM) and i've been refusing to watch any of it cause it doesn't really seem like my style, really, i am like twenty minutes into the first episode of s2 and this pete guy is such an idiot, oh my god, i can't even -- WHY AM I WATCHING THIS --

and okay, okay -- okay, there might be a little bit of slash going on here --

OH GOD HE'S SO DUMB.

beep boop, i am a robot.

ever_obsessed — Tue, 24 Jul 2012 06:10:00 GMT

Sitting here, loving my ships and writing snippets (and there are four spots open so GO DO IT NOW) and redoing my icons and it's all making me feel very fabulous indeed.

Want to say other stuff, but kind of tired so will do it tomorrow after work.

So.

Yeah.

♥ ♥ ♥

true story:

ever_obsessed — Sun, 22 Jul 2012 04:29:34 GMT

still seven spots left open on the meme in my last entry.

DO THIS FOR ME I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN WRITE NOW.

there should be at least something in the snippets for everyone after i'm done ♥

best. meme. ever.

ever_obsessed — Thu, 19 Jul 2012 21:53:35 GMT

snagged from one of my bbs, svgurl:

I've got a list of 20 of my favorite pairings. All you need to do is give me a number (1-20) and a mundane household chore, like folding laundry or doing dishes, and I'll write a snippet and explain how the task would go, in-character for that pairing and universe.

1. cooking dinner (kathrynthegr8)
2. feeding the dog (aestheticized)
3. cleaning under the couch (devilishdestiny)
4. take out the trash (angeldylan628)
5.
6. changing the oil in a car (boomwizard)
7. mow the lawn (devilishdestiny)
8. cleaning out the fridge (shadowartemis)
9. ironing clothes (boomwizard)
10. cleaning windows (boomwizard)
11. redecorating/cleaning the bedroom (moirariordan)
12. vacuuming (shadowartemis)
13. washing dishes (devilishdestiny)
14. grocery shopping (angeldylan628)
15. watering the plants (edoran)
16. doing laundry (svgurl)
17. making the bed (edoran)
18. cleaning the litter box (tju_tju_tju_tju)
19. paying bills (moirariordan)
20. pest control (bellonablack)

Give this to me, people, I live for things like this and I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE, OKAY.

another one as i recover from too much work lately.

ever_obsessed — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 20:47:06 GMT

From penknife:

Ask my characters a question. I make you no promises they'll tell the truth, however...

You know my characters, bbs, <3

beep beep.

ever_obsessed — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 00:55:26 GMT

snagged from bellonablack

Tell me about a story I haven't written, and I'll give you between one and three sentences from that story.

may be hitting wall of exhaustion. cannot care.

ever_obsessed — Mon, 04 Jun 2012 03:58:18 GMT

okay so trying not to write anything fandom right now until i finish the couple of rl things driving me fucking nuts which means refusing to let myself write any loki/darcy (but oh god it hurts not to, i have so many ~FEELS) and then i went running around boomwizard's tumblr as i sometimes do (ahahaha, i stalk you but you LEFT ME and okay it's hard for me to even joke about stalking but ahahaha, MY FACE IS SAD OKAY) and then i was scrolling down and scrolling down and scrolling down forever as you do on tumblr and then, ahahahaha -- no, i literally was saying "ohohoho my GOOOOOOOD" and started laughing like an idiot all at the same time, OKAY< LOOK AT THIS.

ohohohoho my god.

and i have so much shit to do right now and i can't get off the internet and I'M HAVING PROBLEMS OH GOD, there may be a kat appreciation post coming up at some point.

true story.

ever_obsessed — Mon, 04 Jun 2012 03:31:10 GMT

i'm about to start making this:

but out of these colors instead:

pictures ~~if i ever finish~~ when i'm done.

oh god i'm insane.

jealous whiner baby

ever_obsessed — Mon, 28 May 2012 08:02:30 GMT

lkh's latest

direct quotes, i promise, i shit you not.

Then "[Asher] came forward in his painted-on blue satin pants tucked into knee-high boots. The cutaway tailcoat was blue, too, and all of it made his palest of blue eyes bluer still, like early spring skies instead of winter blue. His eyes were as pale a blue as Jean-Claude’s were dark."
tears. streaming down my face.

and then he made his fingers go in and out of me faster and faster, as if he were fucking me with them.
no. no, that actually is fucking, i assure you ~~and totally my second-favorite thing ever~~

and I knew he wasn’t having orgasm with me
like having tea? like a -- a tea party or -- oh jfc, i cannot even.