I am so tired today. I didn't sleep well. Something I read last night gave me nightmares. Ugh. Not fun. And today begins the race to get through the holidays with my sanity intact.
Anyhow, I want to thank, profusely, everyone who sent me christmas cards (and gifts). Thank you so much. I'm having a very Snarry Christmas. Snarry...just makes everything better. *snuggles up to her snarry*
I have a little more writing to finish. I'm nearly, nearly done my
christmas_cacti pinch. (I AM SO SORRY I FAIL, Ketchup.)
And then I need to write a few more other things...writing is the balm my poor soul needs.
I've been reading more mindrotter lately. I tried to explain it to
inksheddings...and I made some alterations, perfecting my idea...
HPfic is Vodka
Minekura fic is like a fine cognac
FMAfic is a nice midrange wine. Though, Rainjoy is like Screaming Sex with an Alchemist.
TeniPurific is like a decent beer.
Twific is mindrotter. It's that rather large bottle of utter rot that get for two bucks. It's that shit you drink in that leisure suit larry game that causes you to blackout.
It's strange, dancing on the edge of this fandom. This is really the only fandom I've ever been in because I like a het ship. A canon het ship. I wonder if this is what it's like to actively like het in HP fandom? Like Harry/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione etc? Let me tell you...I dunno if it's the fandom or if it's cause it's het...but I have no earthly idea what these writers are talking about a good deal of the time.
This isn't the impossible idea of manwhore!edward or Rosalie and Bella being bffs. It's not about the fact that Jake never ceases to annoy me, even in fic. It's not about the way that no one on Twilighted understands that "you're" means "you are" and "your" means "belonging to you" or how commas are everyone's friend. It's about something far more mystifying.
Why?
Because there's an awful lot of fashion in these fics. They mention these Jimmysomething shoes or this M-thingy shoe thing...and I am lost. There's mentions of Guchi? is it...I'm not sure. It makes me feel that I've inadvertently stumbled across what I'd perceive to be a Sex in the City episode. I don't speak Cosmo. I don't speak Vogue. I speak football. And I speak Red Dwarf.
This whole side of the story configuring makes as much sense as Mangina(did I spell that wrong she asks innocently) deciding to go for it on their own TWENTY YARD LINE. Yeah. Like that.
Or is it the age of the writers? I have no idea. All I know is that when they start talking clothes, my eyes glaze over. It's one of the reasons I like slash...no muss. no fuss. No constant "I love you." "I love you, too" and talking about "feelings" There's no weird guy name shoes or details about references to dance songs I've never heard of...there's only cock. Glorious, glorious cock.