(no subject)
I don't even know how this happened, but I wrote a fic. In fact, I wrote a 9.3k Merlin fic, which, what? Really?
I blame it all on
laria_gwyn, for linking to the Happy Endings Fest, where I came across this prompt: it didn’t work out because there was an alien invasion and they wanted to work for two different factions of the resistance.
Every so often, a voice in my brain likes to shout DAMN THE TORPEDOES or something, and then I wind up with a new tattoo, or passing out drunk in a bathroom, or spending three days feverishly writing post-apocalyptic Merlin fic all over a Happy Endings Fest.
Anyway. The link takes you to AO3.
Title:When Morning Comes
Wordcount: 9247
Summary: If life were fair, anyone who managed to survive the apocalypse would be given a fuzzy blanket, some tea, and a nice bed to hide under and weep. Life is not fair, obviously, and there's no actual end to the end of the world. Instead, there's grief and pain and mud and death, there are minor miracles, and there's the love that gets you out of bed in the morning, despite everything. Life goes on.
There's something else I need to write about. That something is the sheer whatthefuckery that is Joel Schumacher's Batman Forever.
Y'all, I loved the shit out of this movie way back when, and probably watched it a dozen times as an adolescent, but I forgot about it. It was consigned to the garbage bin of the mid-nineties, along with belly shirts, baby blue nail polish, and the brief period of my life when I believed what I read in Seventeen and Cosmopolitan.
Until last night, when I had a one-person sleepover party at
gollumgollum's house while they were at work. I ate chips, I edited that fic, and I marathoned six hours of the best Netflix had to offer.
Early on in the movie, there's a shot where a helicopter, piloted by Two-Face, flies right into a glowing statue of an eyeball, which explodes in a suitably dramatic way. That is an adequate metaphor for the experience of watching this movie.
Orange lipstick. Black light makeup. Fake nipples. Jim Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones jumping around like cracked-out terriers. Neon lights everywhere. Nicole Kidman's boobs. Sparkly green spandex. The fucking lighting in that film, oh my god. You will never see another movie utilize that much green light, I can pretty much promise you that.
And then there's Val Kilmer, who pretty much speaks in a monotone the entire time.
So picspams are a thing people do, right? Well, here is a picspam and a quote-spam.
I'll bring the wine, you bring your scarred psyche.
The Bat Signal is not a beeper.
"You can't understand. Your family wasn't killed by a maniac. "
"Yes. They were.
Joygasm!
I'm sucking up your I.Q., vacuuming your cortex, feeding off your brain!
It's Heavy Metal meets House and Garden!
In conclusion, Two Face/Riddler/Horrible Color Scheme is my OT3.
I blame it all on
laria_gwyn, for linking to the Happy Endings Fest, where I came across this prompt: it didn’t work out because there was an alien invasion and they wanted to work for two different factions of the resistance.
Every so often, a voice in my brain likes to shout DAMN THE TORPEDOES or something, and then I wind up with a new tattoo, or passing out drunk in a bathroom, or spending three days feverishly writing post-apocalyptic Merlin fic all over a Happy Endings Fest.
Anyway. The link takes you to AO3.
Title:When Morning Comes
Wordcount: 9247
Summary: If life were fair, anyone who managed to survive the apocalypse would be given a fuzzy blanket, some tea, and a nice bed to hide under and weep. Life is not fair, obviously, and there's no actual end to the end of the world. Instead, there's grief and pain and mud and death, there are minor miracles, and there's the love that gets you out of bed in the morning, despite everything. Life goes on.
There's something else I need to write about. That something is the sheer whatthefuckery that is Joel Schumacher's Batman Forever.
Y'all, I loved the shit out of this movie way back when, and probably watched it a dozen times as an adolescent, but I forgot about it. It was consigned to the garbage bin of the mid-nineties, along with belly shirts, baby blue nail polish, and the brief period of my life when I believed what I read in Seventeen and Cosmopolitan.
Until last night, when I had a one-person sleepover party at
gollumgollum's house while they were at work. I ate chips, I edited that fic, and I marathoned six hours of the best Netflix had to offer.
Early on in the movie, there's a shot where a helicopter, piloted by Two-Face, flies right into a glowing statue of an eyeball, which explodes in a suitably dramatic way. That is an adequate metaphor for the experience of watching this movie.
Orange lipstick. Black light makeup. Fake nipples. Jim Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones jumping around like cracked-out terriers. Neon lights everywhere. Nicole Kidman's boobs. Sparkly green spandex. The fucking lighting in that film, oh my god. You will never see another movie utilize that much green light, I can pretty much promise you that.
And then there's Val Kilmer, who pretty much speaks in a monotone the entire time.
So picspams are a thing people do, right? Well, here is a picspam and a quote-spam.
I'll bring the wine, you bring your scarred psyche.
The Bat Signal is not a beeper.
"You can't understand. Your family wasn't killed by a maniac. "
"Yes. They were.
Joygasm!
I'm sucking up your I.Q., vacuuming your cortex, feeding off your brain!
It's Heavy Metal meets House and Garden!
In conclusion, Two Face/Riddler/Horrible Color Scheme is my OT3.