Tonight, a spontaneous fit of nostalgia got together with the byproduct of my evil fandom-converting ways. Plot against me, they did. Oh the plotting. Perhaps I never stood a chance - my last-ditch effort to get someone, my tell-it-like-it-is someone, to berate me out of it went horribly awry. I think they got to her before I did.

The battle was bloody. The bunny was triumphant. A "WTF?" crossover was born.

The premise itself, broken down, is actually pretty plausible. It's the principle of the thing that's cracktastic. The crossed fandoms themselves. I can't even wrap my head around how I got here. But I'm writing the damn thing.

I blame Stacie. Oh yes. *points crooked Color Purple fingers of blame*

*sigh*

That is all.

Okay, the recurring earthquakes have got to stop.

Sara Bareilles/Rachel Yamagata/Raining Jane last night was absolutely awesome. Had salmon risotto and french martinis at the Back Porch Grill, earned a pass on the general admission line, and actually got a seat (in front of the main bar, no less). Sang, screamed, met some cool people. Two thumbs up, fine holiday fun.

The bunnies are out for blood, so I've decided to appease them and break the dam on my Atlantis muse. That said, my birthday will be here sooner than you know it, and if anyone would like to write me an SGA/SPN tale of Wraith on Earth (or even Replicators, in the "WTF, another shapeshifter?" vein), with John and John military history and Sam and Teyla having psychic pings and Ronon and Dean being wary and competitive, respectively, not to mention passive/aggressive, yet mutually though grudgingly appreciative (emphasis on that last dynamic), I certainly wouldn't object. Seriously. You would be my favorite person in all the world. I have some of the most talented folks in LJland on my f-list; somebody can spare me the massive coronary and/or cranial explosion that would come of writing it myself.

My sister (who is an amazing photographer) is using my place to shoot a portfolio tomorrow. For Playboy. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this (other than the initial amusement). I do know that the menagerie and I will be barricaded in my office for most of the morning, while said shoot takes place. I will own up to my fear now, as being locked in a room with my computer makes it all too easy for the bunnies to attack. They don't even have to be particularly stealthy. Instead of mismatched bookends, you see, I have matching shoulder devils. And both of them look like Thumper.

It's been awhile. Have a meme.

Quote a bit of my writing at me? Find that one story of mine that you really like, and find a sentence or a paragraph that presses your prose-buttons in the right way, and comment here with it, no matter how long or short.

Less doing a meme than taking five minutes out of your day to stroke my ego, but let's not split hairs.

Two more hours until the weekend gets underway. Chopped salad and fic writing awaits.

Stir of Echoes
Grey’s Anatomy/Supernatural, Dean/Izzie, spoilers through “Drowning on Dry Land” and “Hollywood Babylon”.
Between the black of firsts and white of lasts are countless shades of gray, some too subtle to matter in the moment… until they all add up to contrast. The end of the beginning and beginning of the end.

( George had teased her about the moment... )

First and foremost, a very merry birthday to doddmommy, who we all miss like hell.

Just passing through with a few crossover recs, because I've been in that kind of mood these days.

Someone Else's Life by cherryscott
(Supernatural/Grey's Anatomy/Roswell, Denny/Izzie)
The brilliance of the execution here is only outdone by the spot-on characterizations all around. Loved it, every single word.

Cherry Bomb by plumunited
(Supernatural/Smallville, Dean/Chloe)
I'm usually such a Sam/Chloe girl, but this little ficlet (and it's sequel, Dead Men Tell No Tales) has absolutely convinced me that either Winchester works with this Girl Friday.

Tenth Nocturne (The Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang remix) by sanyin
(Supernatural/Angel, Sam/Dean, Dean/Gunn)
Okay, yeah, I know it says "Sam/Dean" right up there. I'm perfectly aware that the little backslash means Wincest ahoy!. But here's the thing... Well, okay, two things. First, the Sam/Dean is barely there. It's barely even Wincest. Completely G-rated and at the very end, and therefore easy to scrub from my brain. Second, and most importantly, the whole damn thing is glorious. It's a spin on my favorite (non-hustler!Dean) poisontaster fic, "Books of the Living, Books of the Dead", that meshes it with her Dean/Gunn piece - the one I wanted to love and couldn't quite make myself finish. And and and... it's a completely noir retelling, with Dean as the beaten-down everyman who can't catch a break and Jess as the Veronica Lake-esque femme fatale. It was so worth the scrubbing. Seriously.

Finding Hell by Maya Tawi
(Supernatural/Constantine, Dean/John Constantine)
While the conclusion reminded me that I'm very much in the minor leagues when it comes to slash reading, the picture she painted with these characters was so vividly realistic that I didn't mind in the least. This is Dean on his own, and father knows best, and Hell Blazer at its finest - John is that smarmy, unapologetic bastard I love so much, with his mind games and straightforward double-meanings. Made me want to write a movieverse crossover.

So I gave my brain a break from wrapping the crack!fic to read some - namely a SPN/Smallville crossover. It was so promising at the start. There was brother banter and Dean driving and Sam skepticism... Then they brought my favorite Girl Friday in and it got even better, with the flirting and the wit and the subtext.

It started off Dean/Chloe overtones with a twinge of longing!Sam - wonderful. Then it shifted to Sam/Chloe with a heaping spoonful of protective!Dean - marvelous.

When it got to shades of Sam/Chloe/Dean, the red flags in my brain started waving wildly. But I'm not one to turn down pretty pretty threesomes. Besides, it was still... with the weapons... and the puns... and if I could just... maybe it wouldn't...

Sadly, I was unable to make it out before the Sam/Chloe/Dean went decidedly Sam/Dean - no twinges, no spoonfuls. I tried, for about a paragraph, to substitute Jason for Dean. Since we were in that neck of the woods, after all - you know, "same face, different DNA" logic. Yes, the fic was that well done. Enough to make me attempt identity subterfuge. No go. At all. You can understand, then, why I'm ready to cry right now. Wincesters (and Petrellicesters, by extension) on my f-list, you know I don't begrudge you your pairing. To each fangirl her own. I just can't do it, personally. Whether it's SPN, Heroes, or Firefly, incest is my big squick.

Somebody point me to some good gen, please. Please? I'm begging you. Because not only do I need to go back to writing Dean within the hour if I'm ever going to finish this today, I have spec time scheduled later, and I need my Dean back.

Also, it must be said... I certainly hope that, in the land where Wincest is a reality, our beloved boys wouldn't stop to screw before they went off to save the chick. Just putting it out there.

So first, it must be said... ( Cue the socially-relevant condolences. )

They've been filming The Dark Knight around the corner from the condo for the last two nights. ( Yeah, you heard me right. )

In not-nearly-as-exciting movie news... not only has Eric Bana been cast as Henry DeTamble in The Time Traveler's Wife, which is wrong for me on so many levels (and which I've already objected to, per decidedly's original post), apparently Edward Norton is the new Bruce Banner. Not since news of Nic Cage as Superman have I rebelled so strongly on a casting choice. And I love Norton. Seriously, I adore the man. He's the only actor out there who eclipses my Bale love. I think he's capable of almost anything, talent-wise. But come on. Come on. Can we stop with the arthouse comic interpretations, please?

I've been writing crack!fic. Pages and pages of crack!fic. That is all.

House was insanely glorious last night (has anyone else noticed that I must use glorious at least once a day? No? Hmm. Might just be me.). I can barely remember who the medical freak of the week was, or recall the shocking diagnosis, and I've literally blocked all the Chase/Cameron brattiness from my mind. But all the House/Cuddy, House/Wilson, House/Cuddy/Wilson action made me squeal like a toddler, and that's enough for me. And come on, people. Panty Hamster. That is the phrase of the century.

Plus... Hotness, thy name is Hugh.

---

The best parts of a crappy day made not-quite-so crappy:

queenie__b: which brother is vin?
freneticfloetry: he's V
freneticfloetry: he's totally V
queenie__b: uh
queenie__b: thanks for the bondage insight
freneticfloetry: LMAO
queenie__b: must admit
queenie__b: did not know that about you
freneticfloetry: hahahahaha
freneticfloetry: spaz

ladygloria: so is he dead? or was she speaking figuratively
freneticfloetry: figuratively
ladygloria: well I didn't think you'd kill him, but I had to check
freneticfloetry: i cannot kill the dean!
ladygloria: Oh come on! I'd soooo read it
freneticfloetry: no you wouldn't
freneticfloetry: lol
ladygloria: I'd read the dying part
freneticfloetry: LMAO

One tries to make me kill Dean, the other saddles me with a BDSM habit. Gotta love friends. (And I do. You're all the bestest most awesome people ever, and I love you to bits and pieces. Even you there, with the penis.)

Last but not least, as somebody who likes the damn song and hasn't the slightest clue why, this just about killed me. As in, I squirted Pepsi out of my nose and couldn't breathe for a good bit. And now I'm listening to Tim spout craziness over the theme to "Inspector Gadget." Ah, the little things that get you through the day.

Drive: Missed.

Me: Pissed.

All of the new fangirl flailing I'm spying everywhere just digs the knife in a little deeper. Guess I'll be finding a download somewhere. Drat.

I did however, see The Departed (finally, Tammi!). And it was as glorious as everyone swore it was. Note to Dicaprio-haters like myself: watching won't kill you. Scorsese brings out the best in that boy. He should stick with Marty for the rest of his natural-born life.

---

As if there wasn't enough going on... ( Cut for real-life bitchiness. )

Of course, my muse picks now to get her ass in gear. I've been working on the spec, but she's not content with that. Suddenly she wants Battlestar and Brotherhood (and I've never even been tempted to write bookfic before) and this insane Roswell/Smallville/Supernatural cracktastic! extravaganza, complete with epic!plot and crazy crossover pairings (we're talking Dean/Liz, Sam/Chloe, Ollie/Isabel, and Michael/Jo with a side of Kyle/Ava). I tried to sit her down and have a nice, firm, "Listen here, bitch" chat, but she was having none of it. She's getting a little rabid, that one, and I may have to grab the sawed-off and take it to that Old Yeller place. We'll see.

On the plus side, new pictures of Darby and my favorite boys came in yesterday, along with a slightly frazzled but very welcome update from Stac. PA girls and guy, I'll be uploading them at some point today so that we can all bask in the cuteness together.

Back to the grind...