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Pan-fandom baby with a taste for the macabre
Eats scissors and stabs with paste
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Dear Moonlight:
Fine. It has to be said: best Cleaner EVER. You are totes like the awful boyfriend that forgets my birthday but then brings me a dozen red roses three days later, I swear.

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Current Mood: enthralled

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Still more willing to watch Melinda Gordon have overwrought familial angst.
Mostly on account of how I've flipped around to respecting the shit out of Jennifer Love Hewitt without quite being able to account for when and it takes a break from the melodrama every now and again to show a married couple having a functional relationship. And because her brother is insanely smoking hot, but still. Yes, nice abs and a willingness to put your actress into solid white pants after she was publicly accused of having a fat ass are really all that it takes to beat out my fannish problem children right now.

Which means that I am working my way around to saying that I've had my first bunny for Supernatural in months and I have absolutely no idea what to do with it. It should tell me that it's the beginning of the end when every bunny that I have is about fixing what the show fucked up (I've already mentioned that in my head, Victor is still alive) and I know damned well that spoilers are heading in the other direction, but I can't get it out of my head. Mylifeissosparklyandhard.

Last episode of Moonlight ever tonight, unless it should get picked up by the CW. I'll watch, but I'm not sure that I'll mourn, mostly because the show that came back from hiatus was not the show that went out on it. That show featured a Beth that I liked again, realistic complications to the Mick/Beth relationship, and several arcs that would kick ass straight through the end of the season. The show that came back made me hate most of the characters, and that tends to be a bit of a problem.

I was going to go see Narnia tonight, but instead I think that I shall try to bang out the last chapter of BBS instead. It's become my darling; I'm having trouble letting it go. And after that, paperwork for Safety School and mightily resisting the urge to write an essay on Melinda Gordon as unlikely Feminist Final Girl. (I know, I don't know what this thing is about me trying to insert depth into my favorite trash, but all of the males are unquestionably satellites around her-in other words, after two or three seasons, there has yet to be a Spike-and she kicks ass while wearing the prettiest, laciest fashions that you have ever seen.)

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Current Mood: calm

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For srsly, I need to be allowed to stab people in the face.
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Okay, the SPARKLES analogy does make it better. But only a little.
Okay, so BFF called me a few days ago wanting to know my opinion on the Twilight books that she foisted on me by claiming, "They're like good fanfiction!" (They're like fanfiction, all right. Meyer would have cleaned up on the Pit of Voles.) Which put me in the awkward position of finding a way to say, "I liked Original Recipe Jacob! Let's talk about nothing else in this world at all except for Original Recipe Jacob!" Seriously, y'all. If I was still a fifteen year-old with self-esteem issues (I hit 5'6" and my adult weight while all of the other girls were still five foot flat and pushing at hundred pounds, I can tell you Sasquatch stories) and why don't the boys like me and will my feet ever stop growing and all that I really want is a sparkly vampire prince to come make out with me, I would be all over these books. Like white on goddamned rice. But I'm not, so I spent the first book so painfully bored, the second book gape-mouthed with horror (the gender dynamics...I just...I think that there were a few trauma blackouts in there), and finally got through the third by buying a six-pack, locking myself in my room, and saying, "All right. Two go in, one comes out. Welcome to Thunderdome."

Yeah, I might be saying that these books are a little bit of awful.

However.

Sometimes, a fucking hysterical review can make up for that

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Current Mood: silly

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Firstly, secondly, thirdly
Firstly: I think that I have a new favorite show. And I now have reasons to love it beyond a fascination with Matthew Gray Grubler's cheekbones and/or amusement with the fact that the show keeps insisting that he's geeky/unattractive when that is seriously the most amazing bone structure that I have ever seen.

But wait, there's more! And with substance! )

Damn you, [info]magdalyna.

Secondly: American Idol's results were not even a little bit suspenseful tonight, so let's get to the real issue. In the vampire AU, Syesha's natural hair, or the bob that she was rocking tonight? These are the important decisions that America faces.

Thirdly: handcuff sex. I dunno, just as a general good note to go out on.

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Current Mood: cheerful

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American Idol Fic: Black Bird Singing 8/13
TITLE: Black Bird Singing
AUTHOR: Mari
RATING: NC-17 eventually
SPOILERS: Uh. This is AU. This is deeply, deeply AU. No one has wings, that’s about as much contact with “canon” as it actually has.
PAIRING: Michael Johns/David Cook.
SUMMARY: Somewhere, Michael’s life went wrong, and he’s not entirely sure where.

Even though Michael did not drink another drop that night, he still woke up with a pounding headache and a deep and inescapable sense that something had gone wrong without his knowledge.

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Current Mood: hyper

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Grar. Back to fannishness.
For those on my flist so interested, my Dean/Victor essay is up here.

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Current Mood: apathetic

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My God.
United States drugs detainees for deportation against their will.

Is it time for a revolution yet? Are we ready to admit that?

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Current Mood: infuriated

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I don't want kids. I don't need these biological torture devices.
Oh, my God, today was horrific. I get mild cramps for about three days before my period, and moderate to severe ones for the first day and a half afterwards. I have not had cramps as bad as I had today for at least five years. I had to go home two hours early, finally, because I went through six (!!!) Excedrin from the time I got there to the time I gave up without making so much as a dent. And there there things like new policies turning into clusterfucks roughly two hours after we were all told that they would absolutely not be clusterfucks, and yeah. I was delighted to be out of there.

And yet, when I got home, there were strawberry milkshake Oreos. Which, I warn you now, are made of crack.

EDIT: Wait, Moonlight has been officially cancelled? I've loathed every episode that's aired since it came back, so I'm of mixed feelings there (way to completely waste every single weighty arc that you were setting up, guys), but I thought for sure that outstanding demographics and being an actual award winner would be enough to overcome those iffy overall numbers. Wow, I'm shocked.

Also, I will never buy David Archuleta's album, but he already looks about eighty thousand degrees more relaxed than he ever has before on this show. Poor kid.

Current Mood: exhausted

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American Idol Fic: Black Bird Singing 7/13
Damnit, I wish that this idea had bitten me in November. I totally would have whupped NaNo's ass with it. It's absolutely pouring out of me at this point.

TITLE: Black Bird Singing
AUTHOR: Mari
RATING: NC-17 eventually
SPOILERS: Uh. This is AU. This is deeply, deeply AU. No one has wings, that’s about as much contact with “canon” as it actually has.
PAIRING: Michael Johns/David Cook.
SUMMARY: Somewhere, Michael’s life went wrong, and he’s not entirely sure where.

Michael did not think that he had ever scrutinized his apartment as an outsider would see it before.

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Current Mood: ecstatic

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not workin' for the MANDROID
User: [info]ficangel
Name: not workin' for the MANDROID
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