Things that hit the spot.
Aug. 28th, 2004 11:46 amO_O
switchknife wrote me birthday fic. *faints*
Pure (R, Peter/Ron)
I... have no words. I don't think I can improve on what I said in comments: "This... tenderness, the soft touch of Peter's hand opening Ron's robes, of Ron's remembered skin... and the rough reality, blood-scented mouth, unsmoothed concrete under hands and paws." Such brutal sensuality. And it's for me. I am overwhelmed.
'Ron,' he says again, testing it, tasting it, walking slowly to the wall. He wants the boy to look at him. To smile. To say Scabbers, there you are..!
Last night
malograntum and I went to see Spider-Man 2. I did not see the first movie, and had very low expectations for this one, which is possibly why I enjoyed it more than Mal did. It was quite ridiculous, but I was confident that it was being intentionally ridiculous, in a comic-book-ish manner. I also understand now why so many people on my friends list have announced that they're slashing Peter/Harry (which is a statement that has excited and then disappointed me many times -- damn multiple fandoms).
I, of course, came away from the movie with the desperate urge to write from the point of view of a character with four mechanical arms that see and think individually. (!!!) Those of you who know me know that I have a thing about prosthetics, as well as about alien-type POVs, so... ahaha. Drool. I also have a crush on Alfred Molina, so that didn't hurt either. I would like to see Dr. Octavius escape that whole... river... event... in partial command of his faculties, and then for some reason have sex with Peter Parker. Or, you know, that other guy. I'm not picky. Those arms, dude. They grip the ground as he walks! *fans self*
So, yeah. Not that well-written, but it hit my kink, as they say.
Also: Random!Hal Sparks. :D
Now, my cat, who was really my mom's cat, is still getting used to the concept that I feed her now. What she's been doing is meowing at my door earlier and earlier each morning, which I take to mean that she's experimenting to see how soon after dinner she can get breakfast. Unfortunately, she picked a really bad day to wake me up at 6:30 -- only three hours after I'd fallen asleep.
What I've discovered this morning is that all employee and customer questions can be answered in one of the following ways:
1) Huh? Uh... ...yeah.
2) Huh? Uh... ...no.
3) Huh? Oh shit, I lost count. Uh... what?
But, you know, exhaustion fades. Fannish memories last forever. And such.
A conversation I just had:
Employee: Are you aware that, like, loincloths still exist?
Me: Huh? Uh... yeah. Wait, what?
Other employee: *collapses on the counter in hysterics*
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Pure (R, Peter/Ron)
I... have no words. I don't think I can improve on what I said in comments: "This... tenderness, the soft touch of Peter's hand opening Ron's robes, of Ron's remembered skin... and the rough reality, blood-scented mouth, unsmoothed concrete under hands and paws." Such brutal sensuality. And it's for me. I am overwhelmed.
'Ron,' he says again, testing it, tasting it, walking slowly to the wall. He wants the boy to look at him. To smile. To say Scabbers, there you are..!
Last night
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I, of course, came away from the movie with the desperate urge to write from the point of view of a character with four mechanical arms that see and think individually. (!!!) Those of you who know me know that I have a thing about prosthetics, as well as about alien-type POVs, so... ahaha. Drool. I also have a crush on Alfred Molina, so that didn't hurt either. I would like to see Dr. Octavius escape that whole... river... event... in partial command of his faculties, and then for some reason have sex with Peter Parker. Or, you know, that other guy. I'm not picky. Those arms, dude. They grip the ground as he walks! *fans self*
So, yeah. Not that well-written, but it hit my kink, as they say.
Also: Random!Hal Sparks. :D
Now, my cat, who was really my mom's cat, is still getting used to the concept that I feed her now. What she's been doing is meowing at my door earlier and earlier each morning, which I take to mean that she's experimenting to see how soon after dinner she can get breakfast. Unfortunately, she picked a really bad day to wake me up at 6:30 -- only three hours after I'd fallen asleep.
What I've discovered this morning is that all employee and customer questions can be answered in one of the following ways:
1) Huh? Uh... ...yeah.
2) Huh? Uh... ...no.
3) Huh? Oh shit, I lost count. Uh... what?
But, you know, exhaustion fades. Fannish memories last forever. And such.
A conversation I just had:
Employee: Are you aware that, like, loincloths still exist?
Me: Huh? Uh... yeah. Wait, what?
Other employee: *collapses on the counter in hysterics*