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[Fic] From Your Valentine

Honestly I'm just posting this here so I can prove to Krissy how weird I am. I can't explain it.

Author: Mina (gildedmuse)
Fandom: Arcadia (Although let's be honest how much of an online fandom does Arcadia have?)
Characters/Pairings: Val/Hannah
Rating: General Audience
Word Count: 16500
Summary: Valentine tries to express how he feels. Hannah questions the grammar of love.
Author's Notes: Just wrote this because I woke up and had to. Did not even pause to wake up properly. Probably a mess.

From Your ValentineCollapse )

Title: You Don't Throw Family In The Airlock
Fandom: Firefly (Post-BDM)
Characters/Pairings: Mal, Zoe, Kaylee/Jayne, Simon, River, OMC (Zeru Washburne), OFC (Honora Washburne)
Rating: PG
Summery: You don't throw family into the airlock because... well you just don't!
Author's Note: This is part of my goal to write something, every day, even if it's crap. So take heed that this fluffy little piece is incomplete and not likely to be finished, it's just part of my twelve hundred step program. Featuring the fanatically fictional twin set of Honora 'Nora' and Zeru Washburne, children of one Hoban 'Wash' and Zoe Washburne. Look, didn't I warn you it was fluff?

Where Did I Leave That Kid, Anyway?Collapse )
You Don't Throw Family In The Airlock

You Don’t Toss Family In The Airlock

Always heard it said there were two types of people in the ‘verse: those always meant to keep to the sky and those fare far better when they got a solid piece of dirt right 'neath them. Personally speaking, Mal’s taken to the first, mostly on account of all the law trying to dictate every little gorram detail of how a person should go about living right on down to the way a man should stand when he’s on Alliance soil because apparently they think they can own the gorram dirt now. Probably go and make you shake your boot down before you go and charge you by the grain. Can you imagine? No, there ain't no piece of land left that feels right, feels like home.

Not that the skies are completely lawless. Oh, the Alliance has written up all sorts of statues and orders and what have you, but while you can run a man into corner down here, the black never ends. She stretches herself right on forever and laughs at any fool who thinks he can put a hold around her. Alliance thinks their arbitrary little rules make the worlds go round and maybe they do, but they can't touch his sky. Just go and ask anyone's hand their ship near taken out from under them by some scavengers a time or two. Mal's heard plenty such stories (has a few of his own, just doesn't see much point in telling them is all) and ain't a single one ends with the Alliance carvery flying in to save the day. In the black a man has only himself, like a small floating world standing good and well alone.

Only thing that keeps him coming back to these rocks is the need for fuel and food and some shiny expensive bit Kaylee keeps insisting they need if they want to keep on breathing - he just passes through each world to gather up what it is he needs so that they don't have to stay stuck to the ground. That's all any world ever meant to him.

Then on occasions when he ain’t watching himself there's a real bad ache catches up to him and you would swear it's like a ghost that goes right through him, leaves him chilled and warm all at once and he can see just a hint of darking skies and a woman coming in from a days work with a young boy right at her side covered in wet patches and flower grass and all sorts of dirt. Behind them the fields stretch out until they meet the sky and it seems to a babe just as endless as the sheet of stars that covers the sky each night.

Make sure everything’s secure like,” Mal reminds Jayne, scouting out of the way as the brute pushes the oversized block up the ramp. Whatever the man’s flaws (and there was plenty of ‘em), he was good to have around when you find yourself in need of guns or muscles - both of which the crew seem to find necessary a far sight too often.

Jayne stops with the work, cleaning the sweat out of his eyes so as he can properly glare at Mal. “Ain’t like they’re gonna be moving none. They each weigh agora ton-”

Just do it, Jayne.” Mal didn’t have time to argue. Or, well, he did but he didn’t feel much like it, and besides he’s captain. There was no arguing with the captain, it’s a rule.

It was too pleasant a day to be arguing. Stepping out of the ship, Mal had to shield his eyes and wait for them to adjust to all the brilliant sunlight. The world smelled heavily of spring, trees and grass growing up just about everywhere. Even those not working were standing about, just bathing in the scene. It ain’t often that Mal finds himself tempted by that old ache, but surely any man could appreciate this here little patch of paradise. Even a mean old man like Mal.

He looks about at the rest of the crew lying about like they hadn‘t done plenty of that on ship. Hell, they could sure use some rest, standing about for a bit when they ain’t in trouble or starving to death. Any good works gotten harder of late, and the number of pirates out there willing to attack just any old vessel, even a fellow mercenary type, have taken to crowding up his sky. After the Miranda tapes, the Alliance answered by clenching up it’s fist, making jobs against them a damn death wish, but no one ever stood up for the scavengers. Got so bad at a point, Mal seriously thought of waiting ‘til everyone stepped off, and then taking Serenity up himself as so he didn’t have their lives on his conscious, especially with Zoe being in that way. The thought passed soon as he realized he’d just be setting himself up to get his ass kicked by Zoe, and probably some bad yelling at by Kaylee and the rest.

Even with the Alliance loosening up, they still made themselves something of a vexation, and the pirates weren’t lessening any, either. So Mal couldn’t blame the crew for being lazy, soaking in the feeling of a beautiful day.

Cargo is in place, sir.” After helping Jayne lock down the last of the boxes, Zoe can ambling down the walkway. Did the same work as the two of them, so how is it that Zoe can come out of it looking as professional as always? Swear, that woman has some secrets she ain’t sharing. “Should I start herding up the xiao zinu?”

Zoe don’t appreciate nature enough, Mal decides, although she’s right they gotta be taking off. Damn woman and her sense of responsibility, helping to keep Mal employed. Work don’t come easy, and he don’t want to leave anyone displeased when they’re offering him a job, but this right here? This little patch of grass and forest, it’s like the edge of his old ranch. He can heard cows and a group of men laughing as they walk towards the house, his ma telling him to come to dinner clean or not bother coming at all. “Yi, yi.” Mal sided, dropping his hand into his pocket. It ain’t good to get caught up in these memories, anyway. “Alright, everyone back on board. We don’t have time to be wastin‘ sitting about this rock!”

That got him groans and muttered curses, all things he expected. “But, cap’n!” Mal gave Zoe a sideways glance, cursing her some for making him be the one to say anything, and now he’s got to deal with Kaylee and the woman has the nerve to snicker some, shaking her head as she walks away from him. Aiya.

Cap’n,” Kaylee runs up to him, eyes all big and pleading like. She’s got something in her hands; what is that? A bunch of weeds? But he notices for all the dirty and roots that some of them have traces of flowers on them. It’s the weakest looking bouquet Mal’s ever seen, and she’s clutching it to her chest like a diamond. “Can’t we stay just a little longer, can’t we?”

So you can pick more weeds?” Mal asks, flicking a bug off the top of one of the leaves.

Kaylee pouts, and behind her he can just make out a worn down Jayne picking himself up like he’s ready to start a fight. “They’re flowers, cap’n. Jayne pick them for me. I think they‘re gorgeous, xi?” That takes away a lot of Jayne’s malice. He perks up some, even smiles like he’s just oh so gorram proud of himself. Mal’s eyebrow goes up, laughing some at the merc’s acting like a silly school boy with a crush. Funny to see as huge a man as Jayne reduce to feel proud over his ability to pick flowers. Sort of flowers.

Well, you can stare at them just as well on the ship as off,” Mal reasons, pressing his hand gentle to Kaylee’s back, urging her up onto the ship with Jayne glaring at him the whole time. He still ain’t approving of the two of them dating, but at least it can be funny to watch now and again. Besides, it’s been two years now, and Mal don’t trust Jayne with his little mechanic at all, but he also knows the brute’s more than willing to take a bullet or two for her. And, well, with how hard things have been Mal don’t want to go wasting bullets. He does want to protect her, and if nothing else Mal can agree to that. “We gotta make a drop off, xiao meimei less you want to just sit about watch Serenity rust to death.”

Kaylee tries to turn but Mal’s being clever. If she don’t have a chance to look at him with those big brown eyes of hers, he won’t risk giving in. “It won’t hurt to stay for just a day, cap’n. Me and Jayne ain’t had a day to ourselves in-”

Aiya!” Mal winced, letting Kaylee go after having walked her up into Serenity’s hold. He turns around, hands pressed over his ears. “I don’t wanna hear another word of that. You know better, Kaylee.”

Jayne pushes up against him on his way passed, but Mal doesn’t do more than glare backwards, and looks away the moment he has his arms wrapped around Kaylee. He was serious, he really didn’t need to hear any more on that.

Instead he walks down towards another figure standing with his back towards the ship, but at least he’d made his way up on the ramp. “That would mean you, too, doc. ‘Less you’re thinking of leaving us again?”

This has turned into something of a joke between the two. Enough so that when Mal says it, Simon stops searching the sky and smiles over at Mal. The first while after Miranda, and then again after his job with Zoe was done (good doctor, knew better than to leave a patient but that didn’t surprise Mal anymore) had been a long battle of threats between the two. Simon thought while the Alliance wasn’t searching for them it would be safe for them to left to land, and Mal argued that he needed his pilot and besides Simon didn’t know what the Alliance would do, only had the word of the same man just spent all his time trying to kill them as Mal liked to remind him. They went in a flash to Simon trying to be the one to leave and Mal keeping him about, and Mal isn’t even sure what made him turn sides.

Well, sure he did. Always had known, just didn’t want to go admitting it and making it any more true than it already is.

Simon had gone back to watching the sky with the kind of intense interest that Mal finds somewhat troubling. That boy has so much strength held right under him, and in the last couple of years Mal’s seen it forced to the surface. Prefers it hidden, to be truthsome. Mal looks between Simon and the sky, trying to follow his gaze right up through the clouds. “What you looking for, doc?”

This sunset… It reminds me so much of hom- of Osiris.” Shaking his head out, Simon runs his fingers through his shaggy hair, messaging his temples gently. Mal just stands there, shifting his weight about somewhat awkwardly. Setting this up to be something emotional, but Simon should know by now the captain doesn’t do these scenes very well. “We can never go home, you know? River… She doesn’t mind, of course. She loves Serenity. I think she was made for spaceships and what have you.”

They say some folks do better in the belly of a ship then the curve of a planet, heard it said myself more than a few times.” That feels like the best piece of advice Mal could impart on the boy - well, not really a boy anymore, closer to a man, but it ain’t easy for Mal to think on him as such when times like this he seems to be as lost as a babe.

Simon laughs, but it sure don’t sound like the happy sort. “I think I must be the latter, then. I - I don’t know. I don’t mean to imply that I’m ungrateful,” he said suddenly, turning on Mal quick enough to startle him some, and now those intense eyes were all trying to explain and apologize. Well, here Mal could help.

He gave the boy a heavy pat on the shoulder. “I know that well enough.” Simon physically relaxes at that, Mal can feel his shoulder loosen some. The boy’s started to slump more in the last few years, that’s for sure. His hair is a bit longer, more shaggy and less so proper gent like. Even his clothes are more at ease now, less fancisome. In Mal’s opinion it suits him, almost handsome Mal would say, but maybe this is all about him not being so uptight and core-breed no more. Well, to Mal’s mind that’s nothing but a positive. Can’t understand Simon’s point at all.

I just wonder how things would have gone, if they had gone different. The career that I would have had, where I would have been in my life.”

No sense in such things,” Mal says, shaking his head. “Only way is the way it is, thinking on anything else is just wasting time.”

And seeing Zoe… I could have a family.” So was this what he was so caught up in? “Even Kaylee and Jayne are talking about-”

Whoa now!” Mal cut him off with a wave of his hands. “I haven’t heard of this? Why haven’t I heard about this? I’m the captain, peoples’ gotta ask me to be bringing babies onto this ship. I don’t care about doctor-patient anything, you hear about babies and you come to me, you understand that?”

Yes,” Simon said with so much dryness it’s a surprise all the nice wet vegetation around him didn’t turn to desert. “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t brooch the subject with you.” His lips had gone up in a sort of smile, though, and damnit, for such a terrible straight up liar, sometimes it’s hard to tell when the boy is being on the level.

Simon?” Mal didn’t get to prod further on that family subject. Both men turned their attention to Zoe. The woman was always so calm and collected, sometimes Mal felt he needed to rile her up to make sure she wasn’t a machine. So when there was even a hint of worry in her voice it’s enough to get everyone worried. “You seen your sister? I can’t find them around.”

Good way to make the doc forget about everything else, just like that. His eyes went wide, and he quickly stepped down off the ramp to have a look around. “She stepped into the forest with them,” Simon admits, hurrying around one side of the ship. “She said they wouldn’t wonder far.”

The moment he stepped around one side, who would pop up from the other side of the ship. Mal had to do a double take, she’d appeared so quick and without a sound -all in her usual form. “I wouldn’t worry too much, doc. I think she’s right around.”

We were trying to get lost, but the world is too small for all of us together,“ River explains as Simon reappears from around the ship. Zoe walks over towards her, and before she can say anything River looks right at her, head cocked to the side, like she can stare right through her. It makes Zoe stop with a bit of a stumble, but then Mal knows how intense that girl can stare, and even after seven years knowing her it can still be quite something. “I brought them back! All safe and sound just the way you wanted them!”

Zoe smiles, but doesn’t relax until the first kid comes bolting around after River.

The girl slides to a stop, grabbing hold of River’s leg to keep herself from splattering around the ground. She’s flushed and wild eyed, looking from her mother back to Mal in this wide eyed way. Now what’s all this about. “Are we late?” She asks, pushing off River to stand up. “Sorry captain! Sir!” She gives Mal a salute, but only pays them half attention, keeps looking behind her.

You need to stay closer to the ship,” Zoe reprimands, but she doesn’t seem upset. Probably just realized they didn’t wander off as far as they had at the Eavesdown Docks. Those two had a talent at hiding and seek, possibly the worse game to teach a couple of babes growing up on a ship like a Firefly. “Where’s Zeru, mìfēng?”

He, uh…” Honora taps her foot nervously on the ship’s ramp, looking over her shoulder every few moments. “He’s just slow walker and I told him no - here! Here he is!”

Zeru did not manage to make it all the way to River. He came running around the corner, and everyone seemed to spot it and move forward at the same time, but too late: the little boy already went crashing headlong into the dirt.

He picks himself up, hands clamped over his baggy flight suit pants, and picks himself right back up without a word, jogging to hide behind his sister. “Both of you know to stay near the ship.” Zoe walks over and kneels down, trying to brush Zeru clean. The boy just yelps, wiggling out of his mom’s hands and holding tight to Honora. Zoe cocks her head to the side, looking back to her daughter. Turns out that being born forty two whole minutes before makes for a very protective older sister, even if they were both five years old all the same. “Is everything alright?”

Honora nods, reaching back to take her brother’s hand. “Of course, ma! We’re okay. Sorry we wondered off,” she adds as Zoe starts ushering the two of them onto the ship. “We were with an adult, though. Auntie River was with us the whole time so we couldn‘t do anything bad, see? Promise absolutely.”

Fanfic: Pills

So, I know I haven't written anything here in a good while. I have a handful of explanations, but why waste the space? Anyway, to combat the world's worst writer's block, I've decided that every day I'm going to write... something. Lord knows if it will make sense, but damnit all if I won't write it anyway.

Title: Pills
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Character: River
Rating: Pg-13
Summery: River is going out of her mind, but you knew that already. This probably says more about my three years in and out of hospitals trying to figure out what the gorram hell is wrong with me than River, but whatever gets the words down.
Dear LORD *cough*... Who is in charge of the house cleaning around here? Hello, anyone? *Sniffle* There is like a years worth of dust built up here. Does anyone else see this? God, this place is a mess....

I could, if I hated you all, seriously fill this whole place with a list of compelling logical arguments on why life is actively and systematically trying to make me cry (and has, on a few occasions, fulfilled that very annoying goal). Again, however: I pity you more than life does me. Plus it can be summarized rather easily like such: life is hard, life in and out of hospitals is harder.

At the moment, however, I am actually alright. Well, hardly, but I feel alright - I have taken my last dose of meds that keep me awake (chronic fatigue kills the soul and the muse and the soulful muse and the musings of the soul and the soulful musings of the muse's very soul) and it's a good day and, damnit, I'm writing something.

Since I have no fanfiction to offer you, why don't I ramble about Firefly? Seems like a fair trade off.

Firefly's 'Verse Under My Command
Or Why Zoe Earned This Piece Of Cheese

Alright, so logic and canon sources tell me that Wash is dead and that the chances of Zoe having twins at this point is so minuscule that it is actually approaching zero at the speed of a Wash crash landing. And yet... Yet does this stop my insanity? Well, of course not because that would mean I had the ability to use logic which goes directly against the very definition of me being insane therefore, logically, I...


Forget all that. The point is, having twins at this point out be cheesy, and we all know it. A little boy and little girl baby would just be too perfect, a way to complete a family that can now (thanks to a certain bastard Whedon) never be complete. As good readers and writers and geeks in general I am sure we all know the golden rule that dictates we detouring all main street cliches. Typically this is fine and helpful advice because cliches leave the audience bored and your story lifeless, and if you absolutely must include them than at least pretend to add some streak of originality to them. At the very least, don't give in to the truly cheesy cliches.  Not only are they predictable, they don't even have the decency to be exciting - it's boring, eye roll inducing fluff at it's finest.

Well, you know what? Fuck it. Sometimes people DESERVE cheesy cliche endings to their stories! And I dare a single one of you to get between Zoe and her happy fucking ending.

Yeah, I thought so.

Damnit, Zoe earned this bit of cheese, and she earned these twins! Happy, bouncing babies, just like she wanted and just like Wash would have loved! One to be named in honor of our fallen hero - Hobanette (I kid, but only in the spirit of the man himself) . Alright, how about Honora - still a bad pun, but a pretty name. Yes, I like Honora. Honora and... Zeru (it means "sky"). Beautiful, healthy twins.

And... And  Zeru is strangely obsessed with doctoring/biology. Like, it's not normal for four year olds to WANT to get shots, is it? Well, who on this boat is normal? Yes, the kid likes biology and, of course, dinosaurs. Indeed, by the age of six he is having far too intelligent and focused conversations with a certain Aunt River on how one could manipulate and synthesizes cells to genetically engineer their own breed of Reptilia Dinosauria. At least the kid has goals.

Honora, being born a whole seven minutes and thirty two seconds earlier is of course the Official Big Sister and deems to protect her little brother (who is totally a geek but, don't say she said this or anything, kind of adorable in a babyish way) from anything and everything including reavers and scavengers and purple bellies and engine room monsters and even big meanie pants captains in bad moods - oh, yes, she'll go there for the kid!

I can already see little Nora getting in a snit because the captain yelled at him for one little dinosaur toy let right next to his door because, "Well.... One day I'm going to have my own ship way better than this one! Yeah! And... And we're gonna have dinosaurs and running on deck time ALL the time and no lights out I'll be the bestest captain ever and YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO SAY ANYTHING YOU BIG SHI-SHI TOU... Sir."

You know, cause Zoe taught her manners, and you always respect the captain. Zoe is very proud of her for that.

Also, she totally likes watching Mal's face after being called a poo-poo head by a six year old captain to be. It's hilarious.

Raving: On Ginsberg's Howl

I should start by saying that I know I have not posted anything of value in nearly a year, and I plan to see this changed. In fact, now that I have my internet back and will soon have some time to myself, I hope to see this place undergo some major changes. After all, I am not the same bloody poet who founded this journal, and as a reflection of my own delirious mind it's purpose and design should emulate my own restless self construction.

Of course, all that means is that I'll be revising this journal a little to get things better organized, and I'll post some of the fiction I've scribbled down over the months. I hope some readers out there appreciate the crazy things that can be down with the characters of Hair, Firefly, and Mark Twain.

I'm glad we've established that, then. On to the lunacy of genius.

Who here has read Allen Ginsberg's "Howl"? Yes - I know - poetry is scary/boring/emo, and artistic gay communists are the bane of America society but don't let your eyes glaze over just yet. It may not be everyone's thing, but it's one of those pieces that I have to talk about.

If you know what I mean I don't need to explain and if you don't I'm not sure I can, but sometimes a work will just blow your mind. You read a story or poem or a narrative of some type and parts of your brain fire off in new directions, connecting, bouncing around in your skull and lighting up your thoughts in a frenzied passion. If you're a reader I hope you have felt this and can remember it still, because it seems to get harder and harder the more I read.

It happens with "Howl", though, in a very real way, and the effect doesn't seem to fade. I first read this poem my first year in college, and now as a graduating senior it remains just as powerful or even - no, definitely - MORE now that my minds been filled up by brilliant professors who love their jobs and their students and, more than anything, their books.

Which lead me to do an odd thing when my teacher asked for a proposal for our thesis paper to be handed in...

I Got The Howl You SentCollapse )

Raving: Let's Go

I love reading. I'll read almost anything, it's true, but I have this passion for books and the written word. I love learning new ideas, having them wild all over the page or neatly organized in a clip list. I love that, in reading, someone can make whole arguments to you and no one is there to counter them or shut them up. You just read and listen and then any thinking differently is left up to you. I love reading.

And I'm absolutely sick of it.

Okay, that's a blatant lie. I'm not sick of reading, I'm sick of not doing. I'm tired of reading all these ideas and then having no where in the world to put them. I want to do something!

I want to drop out of school and work and rent and bills and TV and shopping and comfortable suburban living for a month or year or ever. I want to get together broken down buses and trucks and cars and wagons and paint them up and drive them off. I want to be part of a movement - an actual, physical movement from one coast of this nation to the next. I want to cash out my bank accounts and buy only what we need. I want to make scenes in a hundred different cities and towns and dead highways across this country. I want to crash through middle America chanting John Lennon songs! Waving flags! Smoking dollar bills! I want to make people laugh, to make them cringe, to make them protest against us, just to make them care! I want to pick up hitchhiker's and stragglers and college students and investment bankers and kindergarten teachers and housewives and anyone who wants to come can come! A free community for peace! A world on wheels!

And we will be loud even in the face of silence. And we will be poor and naive and stupid and annoying and show offs and just trying to create trouble and we will spread a revolution from the streets. We'll have fun! We'll be ourselves! Without jobs or college or responsibility we'll see who we are! When we have to stand against the no no no of the system we'll question ourselves! We'll be unsure and nervous and scared and it'll open our eyes to how brainwashed we've been and we'll start the change inside our trucks and vans and we'll give it away for free. You do not have to pay us! We are not selling a gimmick! We'll give it and we'll leave it and you'll never see it up on the stock exchange, imagine that!

We'll go to DC. We'll tell them to fuck off! We'll dance and sing and shout and sleep on their lawns until they drag us away and then ask what gives them the right to own the earth. We'll slam ourselves up against the pentagon! We'll throw flowers at the white house! We'll fuck on the steps of congress because, let's face it, all they do is fuck around and our way is more fun. We'll throw money at business men to buy food for the homeless. We'll eat lunch with the homeless because we'll have no money. We'll chant and we'll whisper and eventually someone will hear us.

We will be a traveling show of freaks! The media will love us! What strange kids, what naive kids, to think these useless little ideas will change the world. Why, they're not even making money from this love they're giving away! Hahahahahaha!

We'll make something better than money. They'll broadcast us out as a joke and we'll turn into a vision. Kids everywhere will want to be in our car , in our van, but they're too afraid because SOCIETY SAYS YOU DON'T MAKE LOVE MAKE A SCENE MAKE A STAND MAKE A CHANGE - do not make anything. Creation is wrong, so we destroy everything like countries like sex like bodies like differences like bad words like you. We'll go find these kids and we'll give them what we have learned, guys! For no price, no charge of admission, not a single thing asked we will let these kids have all our knowledge, to do with what they will.

HATE it.

LOVE it.

USE it.

TAKE it.

We will turn young adults into PEOPLE. Teenagers, you are sold music and fashion and movies that keep changing changing changing because it things move fast enough you can't hold onto them long enough to get passionate about them and that is the one thing we hate.

Society doesn't want you to be passionate about anything. Passion breeds action breeds change. Why do people with power want anything to change? Power wants stillness. We want movement. From state to state and home to home and mind to mind until we're so exhausted that we can't keep still. For a month or a year we will live on peace and hope and exhilaration. We will sleep in dirty buses and strange pit stops and wake up to a brand new morning that they can never take away or sell or auction off at the IRS.

And if they try we'll tell them to fuck themselves, and give them our love for free.
Title: Un (Prayer For Claude Hooper Bukowski)
Fandom: Hair
Characters/Pairings: Claude/Berger/Shelia
Rating/Warning: PG-13ish
Summery: Claude's mind is unreliable.
Author's Note: So I wrote this on the plane ride home. I had just seen Hair, and I was on pain meds. It's somewhat out there, and the Claude voice is not yet a home run, but it's what I came up with. I also wrote something a bit more solid of the Claude/Berger variety, which I shall post later, and wrote up something of a Action/Hud piece, which you shall see at some point.

Un - Un - Un - Un!Collapse )

Raving: On Unity

Some things that people say... Some things just work there way into you and tear at you until you can't stand it.

I don't understand why it bothers people so greatly to take others into consideration. I don't want to say "Happy Holidays". I don't want to have to dial one for English. I don't want to take a moment out of my life to maybe realize that I share this world with billions of billions of other people. People with their own identities, their own cultures, their own sets of believes and families and jobs and lives. No, the simple act of pressing one takes too much time and effort. My life is so important, so entirely centered on my all-consuming ego that I cannot give them even the smallest human comfort of passive respect, so screw them. Why should I have to be "politically correct"? Why should I have to pretend to care about other people's feelings?

If you have ever been in a situation in which you are the minority and in which you feel constantly isolated than you know that sometimes the greatest relief can come from the smallest gesture of understanding. So while even if only 20% of people calling ever need para espanol, oprima el dos and even it is only 5% of them that are thankful for the option well then... In the simple act of pressing '1' you may be helping out hundreds of people. In saying 'Happy Holidays' you could make just a dozen people feel less awkward and ostracized.

So that is why I don't mind saying Happy Holidays, and I wouldn't mind being told Merry Christmas or Happy Chanukah or even Blessed Eid. I don't mind dialing one, and I wouldn't mind dialing 723-2591. It takes such little effort and so little thought and yet... It shows that we have the ability to be inclusive. It says that, yes, we know we still have a ways to go but here is us, trying. And if people want to accuse me of being anti-Christian or anti-American for these views, then I will gladly smile and explain exactly what I believe it means to be Christian and American. How I don't think Jesus would have sacrificed himself so we could persecute others. How I believe in a country that is made better by its inclusiveness and acceptance.

And you know what? I don't feel censored at all. I don't really feel anything one way or another on the subject because, honestly, it takes so little effort to not offend others or to be more inclusive. Do you know how much effort it takes for me not to make generalizations based on racial stereotypes or to use words like "faggot" in a negative sense? None. In fact, it seems to me people constantly go out of there way to do these little things to make themselves feel as if they're "liberated from censorship" when they're just being offensive. What I'm saying, though, is that even if it does take some effort, even if you do have to put some thought into the process of pressing one well... I find it hard to believe that in that flicker of a moment that it all takes I could find much more use for that fleeting second.

Now I'm sure many people will have gotten this far and thought "shouldn't this have gone in her personal journal? This page is meant to be for fun and entertainment? Why is she ruining that by getting on her soapbox?" Because this is not PERSONAL. It is not about an individual, but the ability to think beyond that. And I am tired of being made to feel that whenever you stand up and say something like "Hey, perhaps you shouldn't use gay in a derogatory sense" or "So what if he speaks mostly Spanish?" that you are getting "on a soapbox" and these sort of believes should be held in private and keep silent. These are not things we should keep locked inside diaries. These are not secrets.

I believe that we have the ability to respect one another by the simple act of reaching out to and trying to understand and accept one another. This is not a secret and I will not treat it like one.

And that is all.

Fic: 11 Painful Partings

If you google my username, which also happens to be the email I give out to people I talk to in real life, this is the first thing that comes up. That is not necessarily a good thing!

Anyway, here is my next establishment of fandom meshes.

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: 11 Painful Partings
Fandoms: Fight Club, Firefly, Angel, Series of Unfortunate Events, Rent, Dorian Gray, Hair/Across The Universe, Tom Sawyer, Dr. Horrible, Chess, Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Jack (Tyler), Zoe/Wash, Doyle/Harriet, Lemony/Beatrice & Jacques, Roger/Mark, Dorian, Max & Claude, Tom/Huck, Penny/Billy, Svetlana & Anatoly, Albus/Gellert
Rating/Warning: Between G and PG-13
Word Count: 6970
Summary: 11 different fandoms (okay, technically sort of 12) suffer through 11 different partings. Is it any surprise that fandom has given us angst? Personally, my favorite is the Series of Unfortunate Events one.

11 Painful Partings

Fight ClubCollapse )

FireflyCollapse )

AngelCollapse )

Series Of Unfortunate EventsCollapse )

RentCollapse )

Dorian GrayCollapse )

Hair/Across The UniverseCollapse )

Tom SawyerCollapse )

Dr. HorribleCollapse )

ChessCollapse )

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Fic: 12 Drinking Drabbles

This was just a challenge for myself, and isn't so much a fic as... Well, drabbles. 12 drabbles, to be exact, all from different fandoms. I just thought I'd write it to see if I could.

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: 12 Drinking Drabbles
Fandoms: Across The Universe, Hitchhiker's Guide, Rent, Chess, Star Wars, Firefly, Dr. Horrible, Angel, Good Omens, Last Five Years, Harry Potter, Dorian Gray
Characters/Pariings: Max/Jude, Ford/Arthur, Mark/Roger, Freddie/Florence, Han/Luke, Simon & Zoe, Captain Hammer, Doyle & Angel, Azirphale/Crowley, Jamie, Sirius & James, Basil/Dorian
Rating/Warning: Between G and PG-13, and hardly even that.
Word Count: Exactly 1200
Summary: 12 drabbles about 12 different fandoms and all of them drunk out of their minds. I managed to write each one in less than two minutes, too. Eat it, world.

Twelve Drinking Drabbles

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Hitchhiker's GuideCollapse )

RentCollapse )

ChessCollapse )

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FireflyCollapse )

Dr. HorribleCollapse )

AngelCollapse )

Good OmensCollapse )

Last Five YearsCollapse )

Harry PotterCollapse )

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Fic: So Heavy

I just spent two hours trying to write some Sky/Nathan, because in my head they're incredibly cute together. Sadly, because of all that damn homophobia during the forties, I could think of no reasonable way to make a quick one-shot of it. No, it would have to be longer than that. But even so, I do want to go back to writing. So I am putting my Sky/Nathan project on hold to bring you...

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: So Heavy
Fandoms: Across The Universe, Hair
Characters: Max(/Jude), Claude
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 1,670
Summary: Max's thinking keeps Claude up at night. Note that Max is sort of going into shock in this story, which is why his thoughts are so very strange. That and I can't write. I have never actually seen anything but the Hair concert, so Claude is... Well, I'm not making you read this, alright?

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Fic: Chemical Reaction

So, there is a deal, and this is it.

I am busy as anything. I'm working a job and a half (one normal 30-40 hour a week job and then one on the side checking/writing papers for money sort of job) and doing the full time student thing and trying to find the time to do activities and volunteer work. Plus, sometimes, I have to eat. So, yes, I am very pushed for time.

Still, it's stressing me out more than all of this that I haven't been able to write.

Sure, part of it is the time constraints. It's hard to find a place in my day to just sit and daydream and write when I have actually academic papers that need typing out first. The reasons, though, don't matter. What does matter is that I need to be able to write. There are times when trying to finish/update a story is more stressful than any amount of work, but there is also something so damn satisfying about it and I need that right now.

I believe we've worked up to the actual deal part of all this.

I am going to try something. At least once a week I a going to sit down and free write and just post whatever it is I manage to come up with. Most of it will be fanfiction. Maybe not even good fanfiction. Wait, I have to take that back. DEFINITELY not good fanfiction. But fanfiction is easier to just speed write (all the hard work is done!) and I don't want to write deep, moving works. I just want to be able to get out all the little cute moments bouncing around my skull.

Here is where you come in: I'm serious, anyone reading this now has a job. You guys need to beat me up if I haven't posted something by Friday morning. I'm serious. Email me, IM me, spam comments. Whatever it takes to get me off my lazy ass. Post pictures of small children dying of cancer and tell me that I am ruining their dreams. That is what I need.

With no further ado, here is my first speed write.

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Chemical Reaction
Fandom: Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog
Characters: Billy (Doctor Horrible), Captain Hammer
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 5,370
Summary: One day, the world will pay for the hurt and suffering it has caused. First, though, Billy has to take it over. Also, manage to pass high school science even though Mr. Brinkston has stuck him with the worst lab partner ever. But that world domination thing? It's second on the list.

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General Nerdiness: Dragon*Con

So, no, this isn't fiction either (I had mono again! I know, excuses, excuses, but really - it was mono and I was sick...) but I posted these on my personal journal and then realized, hey, these don't need to be friend's locked, they're not personal. They're out in the open geekiery, and even though not all of you will be interested, I figured some might.

So here are pictures of Dragon*Con and about a hundred different cosplayers that we managed to snap photos of.

One Big Post Of Cosplayers

I'm posting these mostly because I really had fun, getting all those poor cosplayers to pose for me, and I think they did a kick ass job and should, you know, be celebrated for it.

General Nerdiness: The Request Thread

So, you may have noticed I haven't written for a while. This isn't (entirely) my fault. I've been doing the moving thing, the school thing, and the work thing all in one fun package. so, yes, I have been rather busy. Still, I have been meaning to get back on track. I'm finishing up chapter four of my Simon/Mal story, as well as another little Simon/Mal fun thingy plus a one short porny scene for a friend about her original (very cool in a creepy, serial killer way) characters. So, see, there is work being done.

Never mind all that, though, I will get to the point of this thread if you give me long enough.

I wanted to open a request thread (ie: a shamelessly whoring for ideas thread). I can't promise I will get every request written, but I love writing for people and want to see what you guys might be interested. ANY request will do, from any fandom or pairing and - as I have proven - ratings do not matter. I mean, obviously if I don't know the fandom it might be a touch more difficult, but please, throw it at me. I do love a challenge.

So please, make as many as you want about whatever you want. One word prompt, a full and precise details of exactly what you're looking for, down to the color of boxers he wears in the inevitable strip-n-fish scene. I mean it, I'm just looking for ideas and - hell, if it makes others happy then that's just an added bonus.

The Request Thread

Fandom: Pretty damn obvious. Whatever fandom this is in.
Pairing: If it matters, include the pairing(s) you want to see.
Rating: Hey, maybe you really want something light and PG. Maybe nothing below NC-17 will please you. If it's that important, prove it.
Genre: Again, if you're looking for something specific include a genre.
Request: And whatever is left, just fill it out in here with as little or much detail as would please you.

Original Stuff: Out There

Author: Stephanie
Genre: Monologue
Title: Out There
Word Count: 679
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Summary: A scene I wrote for my playwright class. It's sort of old, but I've been having the urge to add more original stuff up here.

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Fic: Alone In The 'Verse

So, I just wanted to let people know I haven't died. I'm just stuck at home until I can get an apartment, and seeing as it is a three bedroom home currently being inhabited by eight people, two cats, two dogs, and a hamster it's hard to get enough quiet to write something. In fact, this is the first time all day I have been alone (I've been giving the living room couch to sleep on. It is neither comfortable nor private) and it is just about 1:30 am. And the only reason I am alone is because Nathaniel is at a friends and Kat and Clay and Tiff all work early tomorrow and had to turn in to sleep.

It is not doing wonders for my nerves, no it is not.

So, anyway, I have abondoned writing. In fact, I have about four unfinished stories waiting in my notebook, but it's next to impossible for me to get work done with people constantly talking around me. So that is the reason you won't see much here until school starts and I - pray to God - get that apartment (a three bedroom that will be shared by five people, a cat, and two ferrets. It should prove to be a huge improvement).

Hmm... Okay, and here is something to keep this post on topic in a fic journal other than just the announcement of my not-a-death. Err... alright, let's see what I write in like, five minutes.

Also, damnit but I want to RP some Firefly. Why do I pick the next to dead fandoms? What would possess me to torture myself like that?

Author: Stephanie/Gildedmuse
Title: Alone In The 'Verse
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Kaylee, Jayne, Zoe, Simon, River, Inara
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,690
Summery: No, really, I just now typed this up to fill post space. We'll call it a character study and never speak of it again.

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Fic: Way Out Here (Chapter III)

I totally need new icons. If anyone has any pretty Firefly slash icons, or general book/lit dork icons, or slash.. You know, just some icons in general that are shiny, I would so like to see them.

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Way Out Here
Chapter: Three - Don't Be A Hero
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Mal/Simon (River, Jayne, Zoe, Kaylee, Inara)
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 5,370
Summary: Set after the BDM. Rescues don't always come with a thanks and a kiss.
Author's Note: Once again beta'd by monjinator who really puts up with more than she should from me.
Other Chapters One | Two
Quick Guide To Made Up Chinese: Either stolen from the show or poorly translated online.
Cào: Fuck
Gaīsi: Damnit
Āiyā: Damn
Chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo: Animal fucking bastard
Lăotiān Yé: Jesus
Zu zhòu tiān táng: Curse the heavens
Réncí de Fózŭ: Merciful Buddha

Chapter ThreeCollapse )

Fic: Off To Bed

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Off To Bed
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Jayne/Simon
Rating/Warning: NC-17
Word Count: 2,040
Summary: Jayne gives Simon a work out? Yes, seriously, that's about the level of "plot". This fits into PWP in so many ways. It doesn't even come close to having a real plot. That isn't why I suspect you'll be wanting to read it.
Author's Note: Remember: without monjinator this would be even more unreadable than it is now. This was from a request on the Firefly Kink meme for Jayne/Simon.

Off To BedCollapse )

Fic: Captainly Duties

If anyone wondered why I haven't posted chapter three yet, it's because I've discovered a small hole in my plotting. Also, I got distracted writing PWPs. A whole three of them, which I shall post slowly so that it doesn't look like I am a total pervert.

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Captainly Duties
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Mal/Simon (Zoe)
Rating/Warning: NC-17? R? In There. Warning for sex and sex with beatings, even.
Word Count: 4,860
Summary: The captain and Simon clash on plenty of points, including the fact that Simon can't never just listen to Mal like he's suppose'ta.
Author's Note: Many thanks to monjinator who beta'd this mess. It was original written for the Firefly kink meme but I decided to fix it up some, add a few parts, and make it an actual story since it was already pressing in at like, 3,000 words.
Also, Lord forgive me, I discovered a love of taking the prim and proper doctor and turning him into something of a slut. You have been warned.
Quick Guide To Made Up Chinese: Either stolen from the show or poorly translated online.
Gaīsi: Damnit
Wo de mā: Mother of God
Dì yù de tiān: God of Hell
Wo de tiān, a: Dear God In Heaven
Āiyā: Damn

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Fic: More Than Chess

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: More Than Chess
Fandom: Chess
Characters/Pairings: Florence/Freddie, Molly
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 1,700
Summery: Snapshots of Freddie and Florence's life together.
Author's Note: Fic for Krissy. I think it was like her birthday or something? Who knows. :P There shall, if all goes according to plan, be a second less sucky Chess fic to follow. Because I'm not quite sure this is right but am sort of fond of parts so, well, postage.

More Than ChessCollapse )

Fic: Shaken Up

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Shaken Up
Fandom: RENT
Characters/Pairings: Roger, Mark
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 1,150
Prompt: Blue
Summery: Roger thinks better of Mark than he's smart enough to realize.
Author's Note: I've been stuck on Blue from my FF100 table FOREVER. I know this is crap, but I just wanted to be able to throw it out there and move on to the next freaking prompt.

Shaken UpCollapse )

Fic: Way Out Here (Chapter II)

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Way Out Here
Chapter: Two - Trade Line
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Mal/Simon (River, Jayne, Zoe, Kaylee, Inara)
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 5,970
Summary: Set after the BDM. Simon is an ass, Mal is a child. Everything's going along just great.
Author's Note: Many thanks to monjinator who not only betad, but also put up with more whining than one person should be forced to endure.
Other Chapters One
Quick Guide To Made Up Chinese: Either stolen from the show or poorly translated online.
Fēng kuáng de: Crazy/Bonkers/Strange
Gāisi nán shòu: Damn uncomfortable
Dong ma: Understand
Wŏ de tiān: Oh God in heaven
Mèimei: Little sister
Mei, tāmāde húndàn: Motherhumping son of a bitch

Chapter Two: Trade LineCollapse )

Fic: Way Out Here (Chapter I)

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Way Out Here
Chapter: One - Family
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: To Be - Mal/Simon (River, Jayne, Zoe, Kaylee, Inara)
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 5,780
Summary: Set after the BDM. Simon takes care of everyone that Mal insists on putting in danger.
Author's Note: I promise slash by, like, at least chapter three. For now, it's more of a frustration than an attraction. Also, Lord help me, I think this thing may actually contain plot. Planned to be multichapter, obviously, I just don't know how many quite yet.
Also, criticisms and comments are heavily encouraged! But then, aren't they always?
Quick Guide To Made Up Chinese: Either stolen from the show or poorly translated online.
Chunrén: Fool
Huí jiā: Go home
Bèn dàn: Idiot!
Gaīsi: Damn it!
Shǎ guā: Foolish
Cán bào zhě: (Really roughly) Cruel and Bloody/Brutal Person -ist (Sadist)
Xué tóng: Schoolboy
Gāisi de fēi xíng yuán: (Really roughly) Fucking pilot
Liúmáng: Asshole/Criminal
Mèimei: Little Sister
Shǎ zi: Idiot
Āiyā: Damn!
Wèi ài…: For the love of…

Chapter One: FamilyCollapse )

Fic: Drabbles On Walls

Author: Gildedmuse/Stephanie
Title: Why Arthur Likes Walls, Up Against A Wall And A Hard Place, Never Liked Manderley, Anyway
Fandom: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Ford
Rating/Warning: PG-13
Word Count: 100, 100, 100
Summary: Three drabbles done for a challenge on walls and using the first line of a popular novel.
Author's Note: No, this isn't a new fic. I just realized I had a bunch of Hitchhiker's Guide fics that I haven't posted to this journal. So to keep everything organized, now I am posting them here. Be prepared for a bunch of really old fic. However, for the sake of some people's sanity, I did go back and correct some more obvious mistakes.

Why Arthur Likes WallsCollapse )

Up Against A Wall And A Hard PlaceCollapse )

Never Liked Manderley, AnywayCollapse )


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