"Ok, you have an unhealthy obsession with both homosexuality and our CO"
Red wine is so great.
I have a good Merlot, and a day off tomorrow (at fucking LAST), and like, twelve and a half thousand words of a Brad/Ray love story, and a really good new singer to love, and a block of dark chocolate, and this picture to look at and and and. Everything is OK.
The new singer is Marina and the Diamonds, and I love her. Not only is she beautiful, she's got a gorgeous voice and deceptively subversive pop, and her song I Am Not A Robot has become the unofficial soundtrack to my fic.
You've been acting awful tough lately
Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately
But inside, you're just a little baby
It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated than love, love, loved for what you're not
You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable
You are not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just trouble
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
You've been hanging with the unloved kids
Who you never really liked and you never trusted
But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins
Never committing to anything
You don't pick up the phone when it ring, ring, rings
Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing
I'm vulnerable, I’m vulnerable
I am not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just trouble
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Can you teach me how to feel real?
Can you turn my power on?
Well, let the drum beat drop
Guess what? I'm not a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Right? I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk. But if that's not in-control-Iceman!Brad and vulnerable-spiky-defensive!Ray, I don't know what is.
(speaking of Marina, she did a fucking AMAZING cover of that shitty 3OH!3 and Katy Perry song, and she managed to give it actual DEPTH and turn it from being an exercise in douchiness to something poignant and, yeah, subversive [like, remember when Tori Amos did all those covers of songs about men hating women?]. But it's only on youube, which means I can't have it on repeat forever. Do any of you awesome thangs know how to rip audio from youtube? I'd be FOREVER grateful)
As for this fucking fic though, I dunno, man. I dunno. I had three parts all planned out, ok? And I had very definite plans for what was happening in the last part, and if I don't get to write it I might CRY. BUT. The end of the second part seems like, with a little tweaking, it would be a perfect place to stop. And then I feel like adding another six or so thousand words would just be SELF-INDULGENT. SIGH. Are any of you around to give me ADVICE right now? Mika? ANGE? LAUREN? ANYONE?
I feel like we need to all swap email addresses so that when I have a drunken crisis I can just email you all directly instead of submitting my WHOLE FLIST to the pain.
Hmm, was there something else? Today writing in my notebook I just wanted to get to the dialogue so I literally wrote (feelings here...*kiss kiss kiss*) so I could get back to Ray being a smartass. I fail at emotions, guys. I just want snark and kissing.
SNARK AND KISSING should be the new name of this journal.
I might have had a bit too MUCH wine.
Here. Have some happy Brad/Ray as a thank you for getting through this total mess of an entry.
Oh, actually, before I go - valmontheights is kind of amazing and wrote a really good entry about Gen kill and RAY and fandom and war and cultural identity which you all should read. My flist is SO GREAT. I wish I was more awesome so could fit in with you all better ♥
Ok, guys, onwards and upwards. I need to go write a whole bunch of words so tomorrow when I'm sober I can look at them and go "what the fuck was I thinking??"
--Beck
I have a good Merlot, and a day off tomorrow (at fucking LAST), and like, twelve and a half thousand words of a Brad/Ray love story, and a really good new singer to love, and a block of dark chocolate, and this picture to look at and and and. Everything is OK.
The new singer is Marina and the Diamonds, and I love her. Not only is she beautiful, she's got a gorgeous voice and deceptively subversive pop, and her song I Am Not A Robot has become the unofficial soundtrack to my fic.
You've been acting awful tough lately
Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately
But inside, you're just a little baby
It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated than love, love, loved for what you're not
You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable
You are not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just trouble
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
You've been hanging with the unloved kids
Who you never really liked and you never trusted
But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins
Never committing to anything
You don't pick up the phone when it ring, ring, rings
Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing
I'm vulnerable, I’m vulnerable
I am not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just trouble
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Can you teach me how to feel real?
Can you turn my power on?
Well, let the drum beat drop
Guess what? I'm not a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot
Right? I dunno. Maybe I'm drunk. But if that's not in-control-Iceman!Brad and vulnerable-spiky-defensive!Ray, I don't know what is.
(speaking of Marina, she did a fucking AMAZING cover of that shitty 3OH!3 and Katy Perry song, and she managed to give it actual DEPTH and turn it from being an exercise in douchiness to something poignant and, yeah, subversive [like, remember when Tori Amos did all those covers of songs about men hating women?]. But it's only on youube, which means I can't have it on repeat forever. Do any of you awesome thangs know how to rip audio from youtube? I'd be FOREVER grateful)
As for this fucking fic though, I dunno, man. I dunno. I had three parts all planned out, ok? And I had very definite plans for what was happening in the last part, and if I don't get to write it I might CRY. BUT. The end of the second part seems like, with a little tweaking, it would be a perfect place to stop. And then I feel like adding another six or so thousand words would just be SELF-INDULGENT. SIGH. Are any of you around to give me ADVICE right now? Mika? ANGE? LAUREN? ANYONE?
I feel like we need to all swap email addresses so that when I have a drunken crisis I can just email you all directly instead of submitting my WHOLE FLIST to the pain.
Hmm, was there something else? Today writing in my notebook I just wanted to get to the dialogue so I literally wrote (feelings here...*kiss kiss kiss*) so I could get back to Ray being a smartass. I fail at emotions, guys. I just want snark and kissing.
SNARK AND KISSING should be the new name of this journal.
I might have had a bit too MUCH wine.
Here. Have some happy Brad/Ray as a thank you for getting through this total mess of an entry.
Oh, actually, before I go - valmontheights is kind of amazing and wrote a really good entry about Gen kill and RAY and fandom and war and cultural identity which you all should read. My flist is SO GREAT. I wish I was more awesome so could fit in with you all better ♥
Ok, guys, onwards and upwards. I need to go write a whole bunch of words so tomorrow when I'm sober I can look at them and go "what the fuck was I thinking??"
--Beck