Log in

No account? Create an account
The Immortal Iron Fist! (spoilers)

I just finished s2 last night, it was so freaking awesome!!

seriously all the spoilers DO NOT CLICK!Collapse )

real disney princesses
I just bought the coolest figure set.  I've been super wanting Black Panther figures and outraged that I could not find them in 3.75".  (Though, I do have to admit that there are a few attractive 6" figures, but if I bought 6" figures, my house would sink into the earth. That 2.25" inches makes a bigger difference than you would imagine!)

So, I finally found these amazing looking figures sets from the Disney store!!!

I ordered a Black Panther figure set which includes T'Challa, Erik, Shuri, Nakia, Okoye, and a Rhino.  (Bucky is going to be Best Friends with the Rhino so freaking fast.) They are everything I want in figures except without movable joints.

Also, there was a bonus Thor Ragnarok set on sale for TEN DOLLARS.  Are you freaking kidding me??? HELA in all her amazing antler glory PLUS VALKYRIE being the right color!  There is also, Loki, Gladiator Thor, Gladiator Hulk, and a completely unrecognizable Heimdall.  I'm pretty psyched about the Hulk really. :)

What do you think, should I do one of those "I'm opening the box" videos on youtube??  :D

hot knife
hi from a rainy day here in the midatlantic

an awesome video by one of my top favorites.

Every so often I just get overwhelmed by Fiona Apple being the half-sister of Blair Sandburg. Ahem.

Also, Maude Maggart appears in this video on the left side of the screen. Maude has a higher voice just as beautiful and completely unique from Fiona's.  :)


Creature from the Black Lagoon
We had to watch The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), because of The Shape of Water.  So here is my review.

The wikipedia entry has a lot of great facts.  I totally have a donation set up to give $3 to Wikipedia every month.  :)

The first thing I was impressed by is the sophistication of the female lead, Kay, played by Julie Adams.  I didn't recognize Adams from anything else, even though she's been in a ton of films opposite many of the great leading me, including Elvis!  Kay is a scientist but doesn't get credit for her work... so everyone else is Dr. So and So, except her.  :P It really made me think about the recent biopic about Jane Goodall and how she went to work at Gombe, Tanzania, in association with Louis Leakey, who helped her get funding so that she could study chimps and get a PhD from Cambridge without ever having gone to university beforehand!   Goodall first went to Gombe in 1960, and they stipulated that her mother had to go with her!  So that is similar to the way Kay is treated in the movie... she is always the object of concern and protection.  But she does get to drive the speedboat and is the only person to survive direct contact with the monster. 

Kay's boyfriend Dr. David Reed is an ichthyologist and is a sympathetic character.  The stupid is mostly centered in Dr. Mark Williams, David's "boss" from the aquarium in California, who is driven by some idea of bagging the creature as a trophy, even though David is very sensible about studying its habitat and not trying to kill it.    David is a likeable guy, who treats Kay like a real person and is sensible about her ambitions, and he tries to be fair to the creature, who is really very dangerous, with a body count that mounts up quickly.  Brown people are pretty much toast in this film. ):

A huge highlight of this film are the many long scenes underwater. This is in real contrast to the Shape of Water, where only the final scene takes place under water.  The images of Kay swimming, with the Gill-man following her underwater are amazing.  When the film was shot, they hired two guys to play the creature, one on land and one in the water.  (Not sure why the water guy couldn't also be the land guy).  Water guy is Ricou Browning, who started doing underwater scenes in the 1940s at Wakulla Springs and Weeki Wachi in Florida, and has directed underwater scenes up to Boardwalk Empire in 2010 (including Thunderball, the 1966 Bond film)!  This is pretty cool, because my head canon all along is that Gill and Elisa move to Florida and set up an attraction. There are still mermaid shows at Weeki Wachi!!  all this is to say, you will be amazed at how beautifully the Gillman swims along underwater in that suit, which they did an amazing job with. In my mental conception of the Creature from the Black Lagoon, I had only images of the Creature outside the water, on land, kind of lurching along very woodenly. This is not the movie you will see!!  Only a few scenes feature the creature on land (and unfortunately, they are kind of wooden).  The creature in his element is amazing, and you can totally see why Guillermo Del Toro was fascinated to remake the whole concept.  The score is pretty typical of monster movies, but, it is striking how enjoyable it is to watch long, LONG underwater scenes with no dialogue of any kind, no sound effects, just the score and maybe some burbling.    I feel like this is why Elisa uses sign language.  There is a lot of frantic gesturing underwater when the two scientists are swimming about with their flippers and Aqualungs.  This also brought back childhood memories of Jacques Cousteau, who developed the Aqua-lung, and whose movie The Silent World won a Palme d'or at the 1956 Cannes Film Festival -- so they had the technology in the 1950s to make amazing underwater films, and that is what  they did!    "Here zee ocean is teeming with life, but everywhere zair are signs of man's encroachment." -- The Brain, pretexting as Jacques Cousteau. (Please enjoy this episode of P&B, if you've never had the joy of it.  Rob Paulsen, who voices Pinky, also voiced Arthur in the cartoon series of the Tick. Pinky and the Brain is by far my top favorite thing Steven Speilberg ever did.)

All this to say, I really enjoyed the Creature from the Black Lagoon.  It does show some of its prejudices from the times, (the boat captain is a caricature that made me think of Stinking Badges), but on the plus side, it is gripping and shot so beautifully underwater that it is very fun to watch.    I give it four out of five stars.  :)

fic: "You're Awfully Quiet" (Steve/Bucky; River God/Elisa)
This story contains MAJOR SPOILERS for THE SHAPE OF WATER.  If you have not seen that movie, and do want spoilers, do not read this story.   This story is written for International Fanworks Day, with Bucky and Steve talking over the events of The Shape of Water.
PS, I got the movie poster!! from my local art house. I'm hoping to hang it on my bathroom door!!!  :D

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve said.

It wasn’t true.  Bucky wasn’t any quieter than he normally was.  It was just that after dinner and a movie Steve’s mouth was usually running a mile a minute.  The unusual silence was on Steve, not Bucky.

“Nah,” Bucky said.  Besides, he was brushing his teeth.

“Did you like the movie?” Steve dared to ask.spoilers for The Shape of WaterCollapse )

Valentines Day Drabble Challenge for Team Death's Pizzas :) 8 drabbles

Thanks very much to the lovely folks at spn-bigpretzel for this drabble challenge.  I wrote 17 drabbles in all (my goal was 14).  :D

~Jody loves her house~

Even after everything, Jody has never considered selling the house. She remembers the first walk-through so clearly, when she and Sean fell in love with the place. She remembers choking and laughing through streaming tears when the flue didn’t work the first time they tried to use the fireplace. She remembers the precious love they made later, the roar of flames perfectly stoked. She remembers painting Owen’s room robin’s egg blue, love and hope devolving to heartbreak. She’s so glad now, the house is full of life again, girls becoming powerful women in the home she’ll fight to keep.


Bobby Singer taught Jody all he knew about warding a home. She never knew such things existed, or rather, she regarded it as pleasant folklore or harmless superstition. Now she would never consider closing the year without tacking holly over every windowsill, or passing a cross-quarter day without smudging. She invited Father Christopher every year to bless the house, painted salt onto every sill, inscribed dozens of holy names round and round the house, Enochian and hoodoo inked onto every lintel, cold iron and silver blades ready to hand in every room. Bobby’s legacy means the world to Jody.

~Jody loves her job~

Jody Mills loves being Sheriff. Fighting monsters is something she does on her own time, but her everyday job entails bringing law and order to Minnehaha County. She checks in on the folks in rehab, the kids in juvenile detention, learns their names and their stories, and works hard to help them stay on the straight and narrow once they get out. Bobby Singer may have been a drunk, but he was so much more. So aren’t they all. Jody knows now just how many horror stories are true, and she’s ready with a listening ear and a warm gun.

~the firing range~

The women head out to the firing range for rest and relaxation, honing their skills side by side. Earmuffs in place, they fire round after round, accurate, deadly. It’s not competition between them, just a rare sisterhood in hitting the target, switching from pistol to rifle to shotgun, hand, eye, and body all working in harmony, talent, hard work and determination making them who they are. Back at the house, Jody and Donna lay out the weapons, supervising as the girls break down, clean, oil, and reassemble. The women are in it together, expert at every weapon in their arsenal.

~the world~

Castiel stood for thousands of years, a Watcher, a task no human could endure. But Castiel was made that way, glorying in all of his Father’s Creation, glorying in his blessed task of watching. Waves, clouds, wind in leaves, every minuscule grain of sand was miraculous to Castiel, showing forth God’s glory into Castiel’s many worshipful eyes. Castiel was reassigned, remade as a warrior of the Lord, but he never forgot how to see the wonder in every aspect of all his Father had made, all the Lord had proclaimed was good in the waters, on earth, beneath the heavens.

~places of worship~

Castiel loves alcoves. In a phone booth, rare as they are these days, one may stand, receiver held to one’s ear, watching the world hurry past. Castiel loves the darkest rear seat in a dive bar, benches in parks and at bus stops, corners where almsgivers drop their spare change into the begging cup. Castiel has been the one in need, many times now; he knows what it is to be seen or unseen, to be loved or uncared for. Castiel loves the opportunity for benison, for succor, for redemption. Castiel loves a quiet chapel, whenever, wherever it may appear.


Castiel loves a swing set. There’s a reason Angels build gateways to Heaven on playgrounds (not just that the sandbox makes a convenient staging ground for the transmigration mandala). The rocking cradle meditation of a swing set awakens children’s innocent insight: they remember the power of flight inscribed on the deepest part of the human soul. Children throw all the strength of their whole bodies into that urge to soar, to transcend the limitations of physical laws. Every child knows, deep down: it is possible to swing that hard, to go all the way up. Castiel’s been, and can confirm.

~a room of his own~

That robe hanging on the back of the door, maybe used to be some dead guy’s robe, but it’s Dean’s robe now. Those are his boots by the door, his clothes in the closet, his secret undies in the bureau. His beat-up paperbacks, porno mags, blankets, weapons, memory foam, Those are his empties, waiting for recycling. Everything in this room belongs to Dean, not just the creased and faded snaps of Mom and Dad and Sammy on the wall. That’s his stereo, his LPs (not John’s, not Mary’s). He’s not putting anybody out. It’s been a long time coming.

Valentines Day Drabble Challenge for Team Death's Pizzas :) 7 drabbles

~Dean’s cassettes~

Dean never plays his cassettes anymore. Some he bought or copied, but most are mixes John and Mary made for each other. It kills Dean when the tape snaps or stretches out or spools into loops and wears away for the last time, the old LP pops lost forever, his parents’ overdubs memorex no more. Sam finally convinced Dean to digitize the tapes, and it seems so bizarre that the whole box of tapes, so monumental, so treasured, fits on his phone. When Mary came back, Dean showed her the tapes, let her pick whatever mix she wanted to hear.

~running shoes~

Sam gets up and ties on his shoes, no matter how tired he is, no matter how much effort it takes or how pitiful running feels compared to the problems he and Dean face. Sam and Dean have coffers of gold, now, lying in gleaming piles down in the Bunker’s deepest vaults. Sam never thought he’d be rich, but like every kid, he dreamed: beaches, parties, beautiful girls. It’s the little things, though: fresh food in the bunker kitchen, new running shoes when he needs them, beer and ammo and magazines for Dean. Sam thanks his forebears for small favors.

~diner salad~

If Sam never eats another Slim Jim in his life it will be too soon. Cheetos, Doritos, Combos, pork rinds, pretzels, even popcorn, Sam is sick of it all. Even M&Ms and Snickers have lost their appeal. After years on the road, Sam wants nothing more than the crunch of something that once had roots in the ground. That’s all he asks. Even some cut up iceberg lettuce strewn with shredded ham and American cheese. Even styrofoam tomatoes or bitter cucumbers. Anything Sam can loosely define as a vegetable satisfies so much more than any bag of processed crap.

~Ruby’s knife~

Ruby never lied, not really. She served her god as best she could, tried to do right as she saw it. She believed Sam was the chosen one, her kind’s messiah. Sam can’t blame her for any of that. He is grateful, though, for the knife — the Kurdish knife, one of a kind, that kills demons. It killed Ruby. So, in Sam’s head, it maybe comes close to even: the gift of a knife, the ending of a demon life. Whenever he wields it, he’s back there, with her warm lips, her blood, and the twisted love in her eyes.

~Sam’s best spellbook~

You might say, Sam Winchester can kill you with his brain. Inside Sam’s head are spellbooks, lexicons, bestiaries, grimoires, tomes of Latin, Enochian, Akkadian, Hebraic, Solomon’s keys, witches’ alphabets, hoodoo jingles. He always loved ancient languages, but now, his understanding of a rare branch of Canaanite could mean life or death. Sam loves computers, good libraries, but he’s hardwired his own brain with all the knowledge he needs most. Even when Lucifer got in his noggin, shouting and wearing him down, Sam lived on. One of the most powerful spellbooks ever compiled is a living compendium inside Sam Winchester’s brain.


Sam paints the flowing sigils of Enochian, the flat, incantatory syllables of the Angelic programming language ringing along in his mind. Sometimes Sam wonders why Angels are so basic. Why make such powerful immortal beings so simple and unsophisticated? Then he thinks of Castiel, who never stops struggling to understand more about humans and about his father’s Creation. Does every Angel wonder? Or is Castiel just buggy? Why did God make humans and Angels so easy to frag? Slapping a bloody hand against the banishing sigil, Sam’s just grateful right now it works. Maybe that was Chuck’s plan all along.

~the conference table~

Usually, he’s working too hard, poring over books he’s already sifted through a dozen times over, trying to save the world again, and yet again. Sometimes, though, they win, and Sam can relax, basking in the gleam of green-shaded lamps, soothed by the the air filters’ hushing lullabye, and the gleaming golden wood of the conference table seems almost to sing… how many of Sam’s own ancestors worked here, cross-referencing some of the same books Sam just reshelved? Sam sips his scotch, acknowledging his own place in the lineage, the something more he never thought he’d actually find.

Valentines Day Drabble Challenge for Team Death's Pizzas :) 2 drabbles
I spent a week fighting the flu and now I'm mostly better.

Here is a drabble about something Sam loves. I'll be adding more drabbles to this page I hope!

~ meditation rug ~

After the fire, Sam had no clue how long Dean’s hunting trip was gonna take. The Moores went through her things and Sam stored what was left, what was singed, what was his. (John left lockers everywhere.)

Now, Sam’s gotten some of that life back. Art books, philosophy journals, crooked mugs with Jess’s initials scratched into the bottom, the meditation rug she embroidered with the sigils Sam compulsively marked around every door he’d ever slept behind. The rug smells a little like soot, but it’s soft against the bunker’s floor. Sam breathes deep and even, heart full of quiet gratitude.

I think we're supposed to keep adding drabbles to the same page, because spam!  but anyway I had time for a second one:

cut! this one's rated Adult :DCollapse )

thank you fandom snowflake!
day 13 Set Some Goals -- I mistakenly did this back on day 3.  :P

day 14 Issue a challenge!  I wanted to issue a valentines challenge, and then, lo and behold, I found a valentines challenge to join in!  yay!!

day 15 love letter to fandom.

Dear Fandom,
Somehow, I was born a fan. Like a Lady Gaga song: I was born this way!  And because of that, for a really long time, I was WEIRD. I spent my whole childhood and much of my adolescence being WEIRD.  But eventually I found other fans and we found mutual fandoms.  Then in the mid 90s the internet happened.  Those of you who have always had the internet can't imagine what a big deal this was to us.  Suddenly, slash (which had been around for a really long time) became a thing you could subscribe to (hello Mulder/Krycek!!) and dive into (yowza 852 Prospect!!) and actually Live In, from day to day (woot woot LJ!!!). Fandom has given me the freedom to enjoy my own tastes and to revel in them, because somewhere, out there, are other fans like me who LOVE IT.   The squee heard round the world is my squee.  Thank you fandom!!  for the joy, the wild creativity, the love, the weird and the wonder of it all.  Ladies, you make my world go round!  :)

in other news, Ursula K LeGuin died yesterday at the age of 88.  What a life well-lived.

And, here is a good article about the Tick.

Fandom Snowflake 12: create a fanwork! : Leverage fic
Here is a Leverage fic I created for summerstorm.dreamwidth.org .  It stars Tara and Parker with a little bit of spark between the two of them, and is endgame OT3, Parker/Hardison/Eliot, but is rated PG.


“You look great tonight,” Tara said to Parker, looking her right in the eyes.

Parker resisted the urge to look herself up and down. She was wearing black tights, of course, her favorite pair of low heeled black boots because of their excellent tread and water repellent qualities, and a black top. Okay, the top was maybe one that Sophie had picked out for her saying something like “feminine blah blah blah shoulders blah a little cleavage you know works wonders, Parker.”

Parker squinted suspiciously at Tara. “Thank you?” She tried not to upspeak but it was so confusing to have a grifter who was kind of on the team, kind of not on the team, and who was definitely not Sophie even though Sophie had promised Parker that she, Sophie, was not actually dead (usually people who were buried were dead but not, Parker had to admit, always), and that she, Tara, was a good friend of Sophie’s and that she, Parker, could trust her (Tara).

Tara continued to smile warmly with a bit too little blinking, and Parker continued to squint.

Read more...Collapse )