there's a trigger somewhere

❝scrapbook (2013)❞

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 20:03:58 GMT

(this is already a month late but i've been keeping track of everything, so. /shrugs.)

books

01 - The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
02 - Yellow Cab of the Universe - Eduardo Galvani
03 - Death Note: Another Note - The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases - Nisioisin
04 - The Eighth Circle - Stanley Ellen
05 - Beauty Queens - Libba Bray
06 - Looking For Alaska - John Green
07 - The Hobbit - J.R.R. Tolkein
08 - The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
09 - The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
10 - The Meaning of Night: A Confession - Michael Cox
11 - A Nervous Splendor - Frederic Morton
12 - Bleak House - Charles Dickens
13 - Swimming Home - Deborah Levy
14 - Crush - Richard Siken
15 - The Court of Air - Stephen Hunt (currently reading)

tv

- The Hour - season one
- The Hour - season two
- The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (web-series)
- Downton Abbey - season one
- Downton Abbey - season two
- No. 6 - season one (anime)
- Shameless - season one

movies

- Spirited Away (rewatch)
- My Neighbor Totoro (rewatch)
- Howl's Moving Castle (rewatch)
- Ponyo
- Warm Bodies
- Clue
- Hocus Pocus (rewatch)

albums

- Who Killed Amanda Palmer? - Amanda Palmer
- The Dresden Dolls - The Dresden Dolls
- Transcendental Youth - The Mountain Goats
- Portamento - The Drums
- Yes, Virginia - Amanda Palmer

fic i wrote

- Nights | death note | light/l | nc-17 | ~90k so far. (wip)
- the prince can't slay the dragon | asoiaf | dany/viserys | pg-13 | ~400.
- a short list of things that cannot be understood | harry potter | luna/cho | r | ~500.
- you've always been the driver | the hour | bel/freddie | pg | ~500.
- heaven is a place made of paper | death note | misa/light | r | ~900.
- easier | skins | tony/sid | nc-17 | ~1k.
- the girls in the back | death note | misa/takada | pg-13 | ~1k.
- grow old or something | death note | light/l | pg | ~600.

fic other people wrote and i loved obsessively

- Those Who Stand For Nothing Fall For Anything | death note | light/l | nc-17 | ~200k. (wip)
technically, I started reading this in 2012, but it's still being updated and I am still in RAPTUROUS LOVE with it. definitely my current favorite fic of all the fics.

- Second Chances | death note | l/? | r | ~450k. (wip.)
this one I started in 2011, actually (!!!) but it's still being updated - with only a few chapters left until the end - and it's excellent so I am still reading.

- The Body | death note | l/oc | nc-17 | ~100k.
I KNOW, I KNOW. it's OC fic. but yuriy is fantastic and a great edition to the story, although it is, at heart, a character piece about l. one of the most well-written fics I've read in a long time.

some other things that happened

- 1/1/13 - vomited a lot. note to self: DON'T DRINK. you are terrible at it and it makes you sad. IDEK what hemingway was going on about with that, "write drunk, edit sober," shit. I can barely find my ass with a gps when I'm drunk and besides, I'm way too fond of my keyboard to want to throw up on it.

- 1/11/13 - it was my birthday. this happens every year, but I feel that it's still of note.

- 1/16/13 - drove down to NC to stay with my cousin for a month or so.

- 2/12/13 - GOT A HAIR CUT ASDFGHJ;; IT'S ALL GONE MY HAIR IS GONE. it's great actually, but gghrjjkj!

033. obligatory fic post is obligatory (it's jon/stannis - brb, dead.)

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 13:21:41 GMT

So, got_exchange time. The flawfree lainemontgomery wrote me a glorious Jaime/Cersei fic that you should all go read right now if you have a heart or a soul or any gunk like that. I mean, it's CROSSDRESSING FIC. And I wrote Jon/Stannis (aadghsdjsgjh I really don't know how, it was super difficult?) with a side-helping of Theon because I am so predictable it hurts.

Title: Where the Heart Has Been
Author: youremyqueen
Pairings/Characters: Jon/Stannis, Theon, Melisandre.
Rating: R
Words: ~5,000
Warnings: Spoilers through ADWD.
Prompt: Jon/Stannis, going home.
Summary: Sometimes Jon thinks he'd died out in the snows.

here and at ao3.

032. fic masterlist: 2012 (aka jaye has no life)

Fri, 28 Dec 2012 09:49:42 GMT

031. gift fic number five (for margottenenbaum) ❄

Thu, 20 Dec 2012 18:55:32 GMT

title: the (love) letter of the law
for: margottenenbaum
fandom: a song of ice and fire.
characters/pairings: sansa/margaery.
rating: pg.
word count: ~700.
prompt: modern or different era au.
summary: Sansa breaks rules these days. (1920's!au)
notes: as much as I love modern aus, as soon as I saw 'different era' my mind went straight to PROHIBITION and FLAPPERS. so, then this happened. warning for abuse of slang, maybe? i do hope you like it, bb!

Sansa breaks rules these days. Sansa's bobbed her hair and bought dresses that fall above her knees and shoes with heels too high by miles. Sansa waits for the lights in the city to go low, then waits for the rocks to hit her window. They always do.

Margaery smiles up with her lipstick mouth, and she looks like a picture, even standing in the alley, shivering in her fur wrap at the bottom of Sansa's fire escape. Margaery's the reason that Sansa had bobbed her hair, and bought those dresses and those shoes. Margaery had decided she was gonna be a flapper, and Sansa does whatever Margaery does, because doing anything else seems pointless. Sansa breaks rules because Margaery breaks rules. Sometimes they even break laws.

She takes deep breaths and then hurries down the side of the building in just her stockings, heels clutched tight in her painted fingernails and her other hand scrambling on the cool metal. She still thrills after all this time, all these late nights running to parties and dancing wild in ways that Sansa's mother would never approve of.

Margaery's hand slips into hers easily, and Sansa thrills even more than that. "There you are, old girl," she says, in her laughing voice, and she smells like gin already, sharp and secret, like low-lit rooms and smooth jazz.

She kisses Sansa on the cheek, like she always does - says it's something they do in Paris, and Sansa's never been to Paris, so she believes her. Would let her do it even if she didn't, probably.

They run through the rain-slicked streets, holding their hats down and laughing, and the old birds call unflattering names after them, but that only makes them laugh louder. They hail a cab downtown, and Margaery leans her head on Sansa's shoulder through the whole ride, talking about Paris, talking about all the places they're gonna go one day, and holding her cigarette out the window. The cabbie leers at them and calls Sansa "doll" in a way she doesn't like - it's not at all the same as when Margaery says it - but Margaery just laughs that bright laugh and points up her nose up at him.

"Sorry, pal, bank's closed." Her arm hooks around Sansa easy-like, and they run giggling to the door of tonight's joint - a sketchy looking place, but Margaery swears it's on the level - where they flutter their eyes at the doorman and whisper the password. Margaery's voice is smoky like it is when she's trying to seem older and the sound of it makes Sansa's head spin before she even gets a drink.

Bobbed hair and high heels and late nights are all frowned upon, but drinking is illegal and that's why it's Margaery's favorite thing to do. She puts away glass after glass, and Sansa only has a little before she's unsteady on her feet, but either way, they end the night the way they always end nights, twirling through crowds and falling together in dark, close corners where Margaery's fingers dance up and down Sansa's skin. They get lipstick all over each other's mouths and jaws, but they wear the same shade of dark red, so it hardly matters.

Sansa's knees buckle and she feels like a renegade, like a criminal, and it swirls in her head and tingles to her toes. She's goofy for Margaery, she knows, but she's not sure how Margaery feels about anything - except Paris, she loves Paris - so she just follows her through dance steps and laughs when she laughs and does whatever she tells her to.

She likes the late nights and the broken rules and laws and promises, but if Margaery decides one day to grow her hair out and dress like an old maid, Sansa's sure she wouldn't be able to help but do the same. That's just how it is with them.

At the end of the night, Margaery drops her off at her swanky apartment, blowing a kiss, and calling, "Same time tomorrow, baby?"

Sansa smiles wide back at her from halfway up the fire escape. "You got it," she calls, and throws her shoes up through the window ahead of her.

030. gift fic number four (for scorpiod1) ❄

Wed, 19 Dec 2012 18:22:50 GMT

title: you've got the salt and i've got the wound
for: scorpiod1
fandom: teen wolf.
characters/pairings: erica/allison.
rating: pg-13.
prompt: say say, my playmate, won't you lay your hands on me; baby doll, I recognize, you're a hideous thing inside.
word count: ~620.
summary: "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
notes: THIS PAIRING. I think I went rather off-prompt, but IDEC, because if I liked this pairing before, I've fallen into loving it now. Thank you for this prompt, and I hope you enjoy!

Erica's got claws and she knows how to use them. Allison's got china skin and eyelashes and hair for days. Erica's got nothing to do with her time and Allison makes time for her.

It starts with Scott and a fight and a bottle of something sharp. Allison wakes up with bad breath and half-moon circles on her waist and Erica's sugar-pink lipgloss smudged all over her clothes. Her bones ache and she throws up twice and Erica's left a sticky note with her number on the night table. Allison crumbles it up, throws it away, then digs it out of the trash can and presses the edges flat. Erica's handwriting is different than it used to be, before - she knows from class, knows the way you know things about the people you go to school with, even if you don't know them.

Erica dots her i's with hearts now.

Allison doesn't call her.

---

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Erica leans over her shoulder, pressing down her back like something straight out of a porno. It's almost like she googled "bad girl" and just went with the first search results to come up. It might be something like pathetic, if Allison didn't know she could rip her throat out as easy as blinking.

"I'm not," she starts, but changes her mind halfway through. Most of Allison's life consists of making up her mind about what she is and what she wants. "I'm looking for you," she says, and turns around to face Erica head-on.

Erica smiles like a match caught fire and kisses like something hungry and cruel. It's not anything like Scott, who tries so hard to control it, the wolf thing. If Erica has anything at all, it's not self-control.

"Miss me, babe?" Erica asks, digging her teeth in around the words.

"I tried to call," Allison grits out between heavy breaths, maybe just to be contrary.

Erica slides a hand down Allison's back, feeling her up in the crassest way possible and grinning when Allison goes stiff in her arms. This is just like last time, except clearer and realer, not a drunken half-dream, and Allison's decided to be a tough girl, but she still can't help the fear that crawls in under her skin and makes a home there. Easy as blinking, she thinks. She should have brought her bow.

"You're a liar, Allison Argent," Erica whispers, and her breath is whiskey warm and biting. "It's a good thing you're so pretty." She says it like an insult, and Allison bites her lip to hold back the squeal when a hand pulls down the zip of her jeans.

---

After a while, it becomes less of a thrill and more of a fact of life to Allison, like brushing her hair in the mornings or reading Lydia's overdramatic texts in class. On nights Erica says hello with her teeth and tongue and quick hands, and at dawn she says goodbye quietly. More often, she doesn't say anything. Her caustic performances become less terrifying and more routine, her taunts less clever with every repetition. Allison used to feel sorry for her, before, back when she was just a girl with seizures. Sometimes she still does.

"You smoke now?" Allison asks her once, after.

Erica stares evenly at her as she opens the pack and lighting a thin cigarette. "I've always smoked," she says, and even if always just means, "since I was turned," Allison's pretty sure it's not true.

She almost smiles as she turns around to pull her shirt back on, still slightly modest after all this time. "You're such a liar," she mumbles. Erica just puffs on her cigarette and watches her get dressed.

029. gift fic number three (for lesoleilluna) ❄

Tue, 18 Dec 2012 17:22:58 GMT

title: enough's always enough
for: lesoleilluna
fandom: skins.
characters/pairings: tony/cassie.
rating: r.
word count: ~570.
prompt: take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind.
summary: Cass always has the best drugs.
notes: oh gosh, this turned out rather darker than I meant it to, but I mean CASSIE. Anyway, I hope you like it, babe! title is from a passion pit song.

Cass always has the best drugs. Cass has the best drugs and Tony can never decide if she's terrible at sex, or very, very good at it.

He imagines what Sid sees in her, pale hair and narrow limbs and daisies and oh wow, loveliness. She's the antennae, waving up in the breeze, and shooting him out into the world because he can't manage it himself. She's the thing that gives his life meaning, his forever girl, but here, in the back of this no-name club, in the smoke and the sex, she's not anything in particular to Tony.

Cassie, maybe. Maybe not even that.

She's got thin fingers and they dig into his thighs when she pulls them apart - always pulling, pulling and tearing, leaving angry little nail marks. She's still so angry and Tony doesn't know why, knows she doesn't know why, and knows it doesn't really matter when they fuck slow and burning like this. She's so light after all this time, weighs nothing on his lap, but it gets heavy when she opens her eyes, looks at him with that wide stare that knows things. Things that it shouldn't.

She's Cass, but she's Effy's smile and Sid's knobby knees and Michelle's fluttering eyelashes, and she makes faces when she comes, angry faces like she blames him for all of it.

And then it's gone and her eyes go hazy and she has some more of her best drugs and leans her dazed head on his shoulder. "I should go home," she says, and breathes in deep.

"Where's that, these days?" he asks, because half the time she and Sid are playing house and the other half she's playing by herself, fucked up and fucking around and ending up on his doorstep without really meaning to. She's either got an awful sense of direction, or a brilliant one. That's how most things are with Cassie. You can't tell if she's good or bad, too clever or just out of her mind.

"I don't know," she says, shifting her lips like she's tasting the inside of her mouth. "I'll have to find it."

Tony buttons his shirt and says the one thing he always says, and that he always knows the answer to. "You can stay with me."

"No, I can't," she says, almost laughing, but then getting distracted by her fingernails. "That's all wrong, Tony. You know it. That's not how the story goes."

He pulls on his trousers, doing the buttons without looking down. "And where does this fit into the story?" he asks, taking the spliff right from between her lips and moving it to his. He breathes in. Cass always has the best drugs.

She frowns up at the ceiling, but her eyes are alight through the bright smoke that pours into the room, and when she smiles she doesn't look like she notices. "Near the end," she tells him. "Right before the big finish." Her hand splays through the lights and if there's music going on he can't hear it.

"And how does it end?" Tony asks, sorting out his collar, but he doesn't expect her to answer. He doesn't need her to. He leaves her dancing alone in the back of the club, puts in a call to Jal to come pick her up, because he knows how it's going to end. Same as it always does.

i spend all my time in puddles. i miss the ocean.

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 18:42:56 GMT

I hate posting twice in a row, but I didn't want to clutter up my gift-fic post, and this is a really, really good idea for a ficathon, so.

my thread

028. gift fic number two (for aragorn) ❄

Mon, 17 Dec 2012 18:32:10 GMT

title: look
for: aragorn
fandom: teen wolf.
characters/pairings: stiles, scott/isaac.
rating: pg-13.
word count: ~520.
prompt: post series 2. stiles notices the two of them getting closer and gets jealous.
summary: It's not that Stiles dislikes Isaac. Not really. It's just that Isaac's sort of a slimy, wannabe creep.
notes: I AM SORRY I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STILES. I tried but I really have no practice at him so forgive me if it's not up to snuff. That aside, I do hope you like it! This officially marks my first ever non-Lydia centered TW fic, so huzzah!

It's not that Stiles dislikes Isaac. Not really. It's just that Isaac's sort of a slimy, wannabe creep who wears stupid leather jackets and has stupid hair and stupid eyes that are always looking at Scott. And not a normal kind of looking. Normal people don't go around looking at their friends that way, they just don't. Stiles doesn't look at Scott like that, not ever. Probably because Stiles isn't a slimy, wannabe creep, but also because people don't look at their friends that way.

They just don't.

And of course Scott just smiles and acts like it's all fine, like Isaac is good people, all, "You should give him a chance, Stiles," so that Stiles has to be the bad guy, the one with the rules and the theories and the plans, because Scott doesn't think, and he doesn't notice when people look at him like that.

Scott and Stiles hang out like they do, like they always have, but then sometimes he can't, because Isaac. Isaac is having issues and Isaac is a werewolf and Isaac wears a leather jacket, and isn't that just awesome? Except Isaac's leather jacket is just a costume, same as Erica's lipstick and Derek's snarl and it's all made-up, a mask to hide the teeth behind, because the teeth might be fancy on the late nights, but by the mornings, Scott's always exhausted and Stiles is the one who gets him home safe, who makes sure he lands in bed. And where's Isaac for that? Fucking elsewhere, is where he is. Probably doing slimy leather jacket things.

But Isaac hangs around and he doesn't stop hanging around, and doesn't stop looking at Scott that way, and then something really awful happens and Scott starts looking that way back. And Stiles wants to talk to him about it, he does, but he doesn't know what to say or how to say it, so he says something clever instead, because he always knows how to do that, and Scott laughs, and Isaac laughs sometimes, too, because apparently he's decided that he's got to like Stiles now, too.

Which, no thank you, he's just fine how he is. He doesn't want anyone looking at him like that, thanks very much.

And, the thing is, no one does.

Eventually, it becomes one of those things that you just have to stop fighting, because there are more important things to do. Eventually, Isaac hanging around becomes less of an imposition and more of a given. Eventually, Stiles is dragging them both home safe, and making sure they both land in Scott's bed, and then washing his hands of it, because he really wants nothing to do with it after that.

But then they'll be lying there, Isaac already half asleep, head cushioned against Scott's arm - and ugh - after a night of werewolf-related hijinks and Stiles will be turning the light off, and Scott will look over at him and give him a look, a different kind of look, and say, "Thanks, man," and it will all sort of be worth it.

Even Isaac's stupid leather jackets don't seem so bad then.

027. gift fic number one (for portions_forfox) ❄

Sun, 16 Dec 2012 14:08:27 GMT

title: we've got days and days to go
for: portions_forfox
fandom: skins.
characters/pairings: effy/pandora.
rating: pg.
word count: ~470.
prompt: anything.
summary: "I think we should fall in love," Effy tells her once.
notes: God, I love this pairing. I am swimming in love for this pairing and I really don't know what to do about it. Also, swimming in love for you, bb, and I hope you enjoy!

Pandora's got freckles on her back and Effy likes to trace them with her bitten-down fingernails on early mornings until she wakes. There are constellations on her skin, a whole map of the universe that Effy would follow if she could. She's not sure if she hates or loves to think it, but she'd follow Panda around if Panda didn't follow her first.

Freddie dies and everything goes still, like a pond with all the ripples drowned out of it, and then there's nothing left to really do but sleep in Panda's bed and drink Panda's tea and wrap her fingers in Panda's hair. One day she takes a pen a draws lines between the freckles, connecting the dots, mapping out the universe properly, and Panda sleeps so deep and so easy that she doesn't find out until three days later, when Thomas stops by and someone else besides Effy sees her without clothes on.

Panda means to get angry, but they end up spliffed up and kissing on the rug in the living room.

Pandora's mum comes home early and pinches her eyes closed and says, in so many words, that Effy has to fuck off out of their house. So Panda fucks off with her.

They insist they're going to move to London, or to Cardiff to live with Tony, but they end up not far down the street, getting spliffed up, like usual, and on a rug, like usual, and kissing, which after a while becomes usual, too. Thomas stops coming round, eventually, and a while after that Panda stops missing him.

"I think we should fall in love," Effy tells her once, when they've been living together for a few months. It hadn't worked so well with Freddie, or with Cook, but Pandora is not Freddie or Cook. She's sunlight and freckles and all the things Effy thinks she could love well, if she had to love something.

Panda just looks at her like she's said something so clever. Effy's always saying such clever things, maybe she might have. "But, Eff," she says, like it's nothing, "we've always loved each other, right?"

Effy's not sure she wants to explain the difference. Effy's not sure she knows the difference, anymore. "Right," she says.

Panda falls asleep on the rug that day and Effy shoves up her shirt just to walk her fingers down her back. She spells love in foreign letters and dreams of London and Cardiff and Panda's hair in the sunlight. She thinks maybe they'll grow up, one day, if they're not careful, but there are a lot of days to get through before that, and a lot more rugs to kiss on and people to drive away. She wonders if she'd follow Panda, if Panda left.

She wonders if she'd leave, and thinks probably not. Not any day soon, anyway.

father christmas, give us your money.

Sat, 08 Dec 2012 15:11:18 GMT

holiday love meme 2012
my thread <3

026. guys, i don't know how to journal

Tue, 27 Nov 2012 19:08:07 GMT

I didn't make a NanNo post last week, even though I had planned to, because real life was all up in my face (and Thanksgiving, which they've inconveniently scheduled during nano. Come on America, get with it.) And I've been awful about my flist in general.

I'll make a happy end post on the 30th (because yay! I have less than 3k and I'm home free to 50 thousand) and try and catch up on everything else (like my got_exchange entry, which lol, I'm going to write in the 16 days between the end November and the deadline.)

Anyway, this is mostly just a fic post, because the lovely portions_forfox is having a holiday wish fullfillment fication - which you should all go check out, because it's an awesome idea and will be open for a while yet - and I (huzzah!) wrote something for it.

title: Like all the boys and girls in all the movies.
fandom: teen wolf.
characters/pairings: lydia/jackson.
rating: nc-17. (warning for underage sex.)
word count: ~1900.
prompt: something where they're amazing in all the ways the show never let them be OR something completely fucked up and codependent.
summary: He thinks that she'll rip him apart with those hands. Maybe she would, if she knew how.

original comment and ao3.

Also, side-note, but I'm thinking of doing gift-drabbles for people if anybody wants one, so I'm just wondering if anyone would be interested in that? Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving (if you live in the US) and just had a nice week in general (if you don't.)

025. literary ladies: estella havisham.

Sun, 21 Oct 2012 01:06:18 GMT

The second of my entries for lisal825's Literary Ladies We Love: A Celebration of Women in Literature, on one Miss Estella Havisham from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations. I really, really wish I could have written more, but I've been so busy today and will be tomorrow, and need sleep now, so I'm afraid all I really have to offer is this fanmix.

"You speak of yourself as if you were some one else."

Estella Havisham is an ideal. She was raised by her adoptive mother to be someone that people would fall in love with, and have their hearts broken by. And she does what she was raised for. The thing is, the ideal is hollow - it doesn't even really exist. She doesn't even really exist, at least by her own reckoning.

01. hologram - katie herzig
i'm in the habit of having what i don't want / i'm just a hologram / you can see, but don't touch me, baby / i bet you want me now.

02. jezebel - iron and wine
she was born to be a woman we could blame / saying, "wait, we swear we'll love you more / and wholly, jezebel / it's you who we are for only."

03. valley of the dolls - marina and the diamonds
got a hole inside of me / living with identities that do not belong to me / in my life i got this far / now i'm ready for the last hurrah / dying like a shooting star.

04. slow and steady - of monsters and men
i spend my night dancing with my own shadow / and it holds me, and it never lets me go / and i move slow and steady / but i feel like a waterfall.

05. how my heart behaves - feist
a cold heart will burst / if mistrusted first / and calm heart will break / when given a shake.

06. everyone's waiting - missy higgins
i know all the lines to say / the part i'm expected to play / but in the reflection i am worlds away.

ZIP.

024. literary ladies: emma woodhouse ♔

Thu, 18 Oct 2012 04:29:42 GMT

This is the first of two entries for lisal825's Literary Ladies We Love: A Celebration of Women in Literature, on my dear, darling bb Emma Woodhouse from Jane Austen's Emma. The second will be Great Expectations' Estella Havisham, which is probably going to end up more fanmix than essay, because omg feelingsss!!1!! Anyway, business - let's get down to it.

The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself.

The greatest thing about Jane Austen (besides everything, because Jane Austen is the best) is that she told female stories from a female perspective in a time where the majority of literature painted women in a very specific way, with a very specific role: to be 'the woman.' As a love interest, oftentimes, or otherwise just a font of womanly goodness (see Bram Stoker's Dracula, which I like just fine, but mostly for the descriptive scenes, rather than the characterizations.) It's a trend that's still seen in plenty of fiction today, as well, and one that has always confounded me. Now, there are several notable exceptions in this time period besides Austen, but what I'm talking about here is Austen and, more specifically, Emma Woodhouse.

Because, yes, Pride and Prejudice's Elizabeth Bennet is a wonderful protagonist. She is likable and sensible and smart and competent - all great qualities. But do you know what I love about Emma? She's not very sensible or competent or, in some respects, overly likable. She is clever and strong-willed and opinionated, but she is also silly and meddling and rather snobbish. But she's the protagonist, the hero of her own story, and the narrative treats her like a worthy character, despite her faults. Because it's her narrative.

There is a trend in fiction right now that I think will more accurately demonstrate what I'm trying to explain, which is: the hyper-competent woman. I'm sure I know where it comes from, and it's great to have a reaction against the typical portrayal of female characters in the old days, who were painted as incapable of doing things for themselves - pretty, but empty-headed. I love that nowadays we can say, "Hold up, but women can do all these things, too, by themselves, and as women." It's great. But the problem that comes along with it is now it seems like every female character that is intended to be likable has be exceedingly good at it. "It," being whatever it is they do in the story. As a character type? The extremely competent, sensible, strong woman? Is awesome. As every female character? It's way less awesome, because it paints the picture that in order to be strong or worthy as a woman, you have to be better than the boys at everything. Which is just so untrue it hurts.

Which takes us back to Emma. Emma is silly. And I use "silly" not in a derogatory way - which it always seems to be used, "oh you silly women with your romance and your dresses," - but as a high compliment, because I love silly. She giggles and says ridiculous, clever things and likes dancing and parties and as much laughter as she can possibly get. It's wonderful, and a joy to read about a woman who is allowed to be silly without being accused of weakness or idiocy.

Another thing about Emma, though? Is that she's also kind of an asshole. She's annoyed by having to visit her poor neighbors, and hates having to hear letters about Jane Fairfax, and tells her friend that she can't possibly marry the man she likes, no she ought to marry this rich jerk over here. She meddles in people's business mostly to amuse herself - although she believes it's with the best of intentions - and a lot of her conversations with Mr. Knightly (her love interest) are as follows:

Mr. Knightly: yo, emma stop being an asshole.
Emma: lol, shut-up mr. knightly, I have things to do.
Mr. Knightly: no but seriously, emma, stop messing with this shit. it's not going to end well.
Emma: you only think that because you're a sad panda. why don't you cheer up? go dancing. go dancing with me.
Mr. Knightly: wat.

I may have paraphrased a bit. It's more along the lines of, “Badly done, Emma!”

Oh! You know another great thing about Emma (the book, not just the character)? It's less about her relationship with Mr. Knightly, her ~~dashing~~ grumpy ~~suitor~~ brother-in-law, and more about her, about Emma, about her personally, and her relationships to everybody. To her father, to her female friends, to her male friends, to the poor people that she doesn't like but then sort of gets to like. It's about her sort of realizing her own character flaws, realizing that - as most of us come to realize at about that age - she does not know everything there is to know in the world, and trying to be a bit less of an asshole. In essence, it's a coming of age story. About a girl who likes frilly dresses and romance and matchmaking and dancing and being silly.

Plus, she says excellent things, like:

"My being charming, Harriet, is not quite enough to induce me to marry; I must find other people charming—one other person at least. And I am not only, not going to be married, at present, but have very little intention of ever marrying at all… I have none of the usual inducements of women to marry. Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing! but I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall. And, without love, I am sure I should be a fool to change such a situation as mine."

She is my flawless (or rather flawed, but that's how I like her) queen, and will never not be.

♕

Sat, 13 Oct 2012 02:41:16 GMT

ASOIAF COMMENT FIC MEME

have fun, kids.

023. why did i never write anything back when this show still had a fandom

Thu, 04 Oct 2012 12:48:13 GMT

I'll make a proper post later today or tomorrow about NaNoWriMo (!!!) and some other things, but for now here is some fic. Everybody who'd be interested in these was probably at that ficathon anyway, but for archival purposes, here's what I wrote for lesoleilluna's skins comment ficathon:

title: i see golden things
fandom: skins.
characters/pairings: effy/pandora.
rating: pg.
word count: ~450.
prompt: it was like having friends.
summary: "Why don't you ever brush your hair, Eff?"

title: show me your whirlwinds
fandom: skins.
characters/pairings: tony/michelle.
rating: pg-13.
word count: ~350.
prompt: that's a nice touch, stains in the night, whiskey and kisses for everyone.
summary: He's inside her, like a pulse.

title: sorted
fandom: skins.
characters/pairings: maxxie/anwar.
rating: r.
word count: ~500.
prompt: london makes you gay.
summary: "Gay," Anwar says, when Maxxie shows him the tickets for the Royal Ballet.

022. ALRIGHT I FINALLY DID IT

Fri, 31 Aug 2012 20:02:57 GMT

I WROTE SANSA/THEON.

ETA: oh, also, let me rec you guys something that will possibly make you side-eye me like hell, but it is SO GOOD. It's from that mythology comment meme, and it's jesus/mary magdalene fic and it is awesome. not thunder. not polish.

021. wow it's been far too long since i've fanmixed - that must be rectified

Sun, 19 Aug 2012 21:09:56 GMT

oh look, here's one! and it's jaime/cersei!

(in other news, I have written a couple new fics recently for a few different memes, and oh wow, they're both femslash -

full of grace - asoiaf - sansa/margaery - love hangs herself with the bedsheets in her cell...
she's the balm and you're the wound - a: tla - mai/azula/ty lee - the worst person you can think of gets scared sometimes too.

also, I've hit 23k on an exchange fic, which i am still writing rapdily. I'm going to have to average 2k a day if I want to have it done and edited by saturday, which is the deadline. eek! what is my life?)

Medium: books/television.
Fandom: a song of ice and fire/game of thrones.
Subject: jaime lannister/cersei lannister.
Title: lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all.
Warnings: incest, au.
Notes: This is an au!mix. Contains eight songs, includes mumford and sons, iron and wine, beirut, etc. Post contains a more detailed note.

A little over a month ago I wrote a short fic (Ask me questions, I'll tell you lies) for the comment meme at got_exchange for the prompt: Jaime takes the Iron Throne, and keeps with the Targaryen traditions by wedding and crowning his sister. Even though it is probably ridiculous to make a fanmix for a fic that is only 500 words, the AU!verse the fic takes place in stuck with me, and I've been playing around with it ever since. Ergo, this mix. It goes with the fic, but you don't need to have read it to understand or enjoy the music - just know that the basic premise is that Jaime and Cersei rule Westeros together and actually manage to be happy while doing it. Seriously, that's the whole thing.

"Yes, he would burn the city, burn all the seven kingdoms, and she would yell for him to stop - can practically feel the raw, incredulous cries of his name scraping through her throat - but she knows that she would still find the fire beautiful, that she would still fuck him in the ashes."

01. awake my soul - mumford and sons
and now my heart stumbles on things i don't know / my weakness, i feel, i must finally show / in these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die / when you invest your love, you invest your life.

02. two veils to hide my face - passion pit
don't answer any prayers they have, just lift our callous hearts / with the bursting rays of autumn, and your cold raindrops of march.

03. king and lionheart - of monsters and men
as the world comes to an end / i'll be there to hold your hand / 'cause you're my king and i'm your lionheart / though far away, though far away / we're still the same, we're still the same.

04. fever dream - iron and wine
she'll cover me / with grace in all she offers / sometimes i'd like just to ask her / what honest words she can't afford to say / like, 'i want your flowers, like babies want god's love' / or maybe 'as sure as tomorrow will come.'

05. strawberry swing - coldplay
it's such a perfect day / the sky could be blue / i don't mind / without you it's a waste of time / could be blue / could be grey / without you i'm just miles away.

06. six (interlude) - the hush sound
[instrumental.]

07. a sunday smile - beirut
we burnt to the ground / left a view to admire / with buildings inside a church of white / we burnt to the ground, left a grave to admire / and as we reach for the sky, reach for the church of white.

08. meadowlarks - fleet foxes
meadowlark, fly your way down / i hold a cornucopia and a golden crown / for you to wear upon your fleecy gown / a meadowlark, sing to me.

ZIP.

020. so i wrote some asoiaf fic wow how surprising because that is a thing that never ever happens

Tue, 31 Jul 2012 10:35:27 GMT

i have written 17 asoiaf fics since the end of march. 17. SEVENTEEN. that is more fic than have written for any other fandom in the last two years combined. granted, they were mostly tiny little comment!fics - except for that one really ridiculously long one - but still. seventeen.

okay, so i know i usually just link to my fic quickly, because it is all short and mostly doesn't deserve a proper header, but hey, I wrote something over a thousand words (and then some) so i thought, why not go old school.

title: the wolves on the water
fandom: a song of ice and fire.
characters/pairings: Arya, Asha.
rating: pg.
word count: ~2700.
summary: "So, Rascal, what will it be today? Sword or axe?"
warnings: spoilers through ASOS and maybe ADWD.
notes: written for asoiafkinkmeme, although it lacks any kink, and kind of went off-prompt. let's just say that somehow or another, Balon's second rebellion happened a bit before AGoT and actually succeeded, and for some reason or another Arya was taken as a captive/ward for the Greyjoys. I REALIZE THAT NONE OF THAT MAKES SENSE. BARE WITH ME HERE. also, apologies for the screwy timeline.

here

and at ao3.

OH HEY KIDS - IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN

Tue, 17 Jul 2012 07:56:10 GMT

got_exchange sign-ups are now open here.

Yeah, already. I voted for later in the poll, because the last round took a lot out of me, but I decided to sign-up again, anyway, because how could I not? (I just have to remember NOT to write 10k this time, and it'll be fine.) Especially since lesoleilluna wrote me such a gorgeous Loras + Margaery fic last time.

So, what I'm saying is YOU SHOULD ALL PROBABLY GO SIGN UP.

~~and no, I am obviously not just trolling my flist for someone who would be willing to write me Sansa/Asha for the exchange. WHAT KIND OF PERSON DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? Ahem. don't answer that.~~

But, seriously, it was tons of fun last time, and the mod is really well-organized and on top of things, so if you're at all interested, I'd seriously recommend it.

018. do any of you even remember me, n/n?

Wed, 11 Jul 2012 02:56:41 GMT

i know i have been horrible about updating/keeping up with everybody else's updates lately, AND I AM SO SORRY. I am the worst. It was a killer combination of real life/having Avatar marathons that did it.

But look, an asoiaf comment meme!

which I, conincidentally (or, ya know, not) have written some fic for.

even our living lovers have died - jaime/loras
Ask me questions, I'll tell you lies - jaime/cersei

clearly it is a jaime day or smth?

(also, I am kind of tipsy at the moment, so if the grammar/formatting/everything of this post is wrong - i will fix it in due time.)

017. introducing, the fic that ate my brain:

Tue, 29 May 2012 18:08:05 GMT

sooooo, my got_exchange fic was posted yesterday (first day, omg. which I'm torn between being rather pleased and highly self-conscious about) although I've been neglecting to link to it for the last twenty-four hours because my interent's being a sleaze and it's hell to code a post when your connection keeps dropping every few minutes.

But, anyhow, here it is. The comm it's in is f-locked, but I've linked to ao3, as well, so that shouldn't be a problem. But I seriously recommend joining got_exchange just for all the awesome fic that's posted there and is without a doubt going to be posted this round. Cheers, lovelies!

Title: More than just blood on our hands
Author/Artist: youremyqueen
For: xylodemon
Pairings/Characters: Jon/Theon, one-sided Theon/Robb.
Rating: NC-17.
Words: ~10,000.
Warnings: AU from season/book one onward, in that instead of joining The Night's Watch, Jon marches south with Robb's army. Contains sexual situations, a certain amount of gore, and words that you wouldn't say in front of your mother.
Prompt: Something where Jon and Theon fall into a dysfunctional, sexually driven relationship because they're both outsiders.
Summary: Jon marches to war with Robb and tries to set aside his private war with Theon, but quickly realizes that he's not very good at either of those things.

More than just blood on our hands

and at ao3.

016. more asoiaf kink meme fic (+ my favorite gif of all gifs ever)

Fri, 25 May 2012 04:59:39 GMT

Not as much this time, because I've been a. busy with RL and b. spending all my fic time on got_exchange, which is eating my brain and therefore getting very difficult to keep under 10,000 words. I'm so glad I signed up, though, it's been a hell of a fun ride. Anyone else whose doing the exchange - how's it going? Awesome, y/y?

Anwayy, porn. Right!

Building fires - jon/ygritte - ygritte's pov, femdom. (at ao3.)
fourteen (plus one) - theon/robb, theon/EVERYBODY - this is complete crack. and a modern!au. (not at ao3, because I've resolved that tagging the pairings would be a nightmare.)

Also, I saw The Avenger's on Tuesday - finally. My reaction? Along the lines of ASDFGJLKLLL WHAT WHAT 100% PERFECT WHAT JOSS WHEDON I LOVE YOU. etc., etc.

015. and now an actual reason to use my spn icon.

Mon, 14 May 2012 17:25:59 GMT

So, I did a mega-super-big rewatch/catch-up of Supernatural a few months ago that was filled to the brim with SO MANY FEELINGS. Naturally, because I'm slow as hell, I am only now posting the fanmix I started way back in March. This is not exactly a shippy mix, but it's not exactly completely platonic, either. But then, that's a good way to describe Sam and Dean, isn't it? Anyhow, enjoy, lovelies. <3

Medium: television.
Fandom: supernatural
Subject: sam and dean winchester.
Title: every road takes us farther from home.
Warnings: incestuous undertones, themes about dying.
Notes: contains eights songs, a broad overview of sam and dean's relationship, particularly in the earlier seasons. featuring bon iver, the decemberists, iron and wine, etc.

01. on your wings - iron and wine
god, there are guns growing out of our bones / god, every road takes us farther from home / god, give us love in the time that we have.

02. lump sum - bon iver
in my arbor, 'til my ardor / trumped every inner inertia / lump sum.

03. he doesn't know why - fleet foxes
see your rugged hands and a silver knife / twenty dollars in your hand that you hold so tight / all the evidence of your vagrant life / my brother, you were born.

04. port of call - beirut
filled your glass with gin / filled your heart with pride / and you, you had hope for me now / i danced all around it somehow / be fair to me, i may drift a while / if there's a plan for me / would it make you smile?

05. to lose my life - white lies
let's grow old together and die at the same time / i said i've got no time, i have to go / and i was more right than i will ever know.

06. some are lakes - land of talk
and i'll love you like i love you / then i'll die.

07. this is why we fight - the decemberists
when we die / we will die / with our arms unbound / and this is why / this is why we fight / come hell.

08. a comet appears - the shins
still to come / the worst part and you know it / there is a numbness / in your heart and it's growing.

↦ZIP

014. this is basically a porn post. because you can never have too many of those.

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 15:36:07 GMT

So, if any of you haven't checked out the asoiaf kink meme, then that's basically what you should be doing at this moment, y/y? It was over here, but then it got too big to just be on someone's journal (aka, the lovely workswithwords who hosted it) because clearly this fandom is full of rabid kink-loving psychos (aka, me) so now it's got it's own comm. asoiafkinkmeme. Go join. or lurk. Whatever works.

ANYWAY, have some porn that I've written (except for the one that came out somewhere in the PG range, my baddddd.)

Dancing Lessons - margaery/sansa - sansa tops, sex on a table. (and at ao3.)
we can ride until we reach our kingdom - tyrion/dany - (not actually porn, ooops.) (and at ao3.)
lightness - margaery/sansa - masquerade ball, semi-anonymous sex.
who cares if these wounds never mend - jaime/brienne - scar kink. (and at ao3.)
Still Just a Boy - stannis/jon - daddy issues. (and at ao3.)

oh, and some skins, from this comment meme. this is fairly cracky, though.

and the sky it sings to me - chris, freddie, grace - friends in the afterlife. (and at ao3.)

Okay, now I have to get dressed for lunch. Bye bye, loves.

013. using this spn icon just because it doesn't get out enough and needs love, too.

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 08:26:50 GMT

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THEON THAT CANNOT BE EXPRESSED WITHOUT GRATUITOUS CAPSLOCK AND KEYBOARD SMASHING. on the emotional scale, my opinion on him started out as, 'lol who is that skeezy guy who's always following robb around?' and ended up being, 'OH GOD YOU POOR, PATHETIC BB. LET ME LOVE YOU.' cue ugly sobbing.

I have little more to say on the subject, except that I've had this saved for a while but am only now posting, more or less because I'm going to be rather busy for a while. enjoy, lovelies!

Medium: books/television.
Fandom: a song of ice and fire/game of thrones.
Subject: theon greyjoy.
Title: the water.
Warnings: very vague spoilers - or, at least, implications - up through ADWD. probable overuse of water/ocean metaphors.
Notes: contains eight tracks and has a lot to do with theon's character arcs in books two and five. includes songs from the shins, beirut, arcade fire, etc.

01. bote - menomena
i thought i was tough / i thought i was strong / but i can't stay aboard this sinking ship for long / oh, sea legs, please don't fail me now.

02. split needles - the shins
i've done myself an impossible crime / had to paint myself a hole / and fall inside.

03. house by the sea - iron and wine
and i've been changing the sound of my name / and i've been swimming to them in my sleep / and i've been dreaming our love and our freedom.

04. the rip tide - beirut
and this is the house where i / could be unknown / could be alone now / soon the waves and i found the rolling tide / soon the waves and i found the rip tide.

05. the water - feist
the teeth bite the shoulder / watching the grey sky that's acting like a good guy / the water / the water came to realize / its dangerous size.

06. wake up - arcade fire
our bodies get bigger, but our hearts get torn up / we're just a million little gods causing rainstorms, turning every good thing to rust / i guess we'll just have to adjust.

07. fear - onerepublic
fear, fear, fear / we don't know the meaning of / wish i / didn't know the meaning of.

08. lost? - coldplay
just because i'm hurting / doesn't mean i'm hurt / doesn't mean i didn't get what i deserve / no better and no worse.

↦ZIP.