July 3rd, 2014

immigrants

patriotic holidays, fandom-style

An early happy fourth of July to my fellow Americans. Have Tom Hiddleston playing Loki playing Captain America.

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(Goodness, but he is such a Shakespearean. You can just see it.

And also a happy belated Canada Day. Have Captain America as Captain Canada.

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(Source)

And as a bonus, here's some lovely Avengers fanart of Steve, Bucky, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Natasha, and Hawkeye... reimagined in the style of the artist, a Muslim woman, so complete with hijabs and modest clothing. Love it!

And lest the Brits feel left out, here's one of my favorite moments from the Doctor Who episode "The Idiot Lantern":

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granada holmes

probability in fandom, + Holmestice fics

Over at Tumblr, Tiger in the Flightdeck pointed out that there are a lot of things from Sherlock's third series taken directly from fanfic and fan-art. There's a whole genre of Sherlock being a ballet dancer predating the show, and the bit from TSOT where Sherlock stuffs a dozen or so cigarettes in his mouth is almost an exact match for a particular fanfic, to give two examples.

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Speaking of fandom and Sherlock, Holmestice authors + artists + etc. were revealed a few days ago. That means I have a new story to share for the interested. I need to track down one or two things to clear up the notes (*le geek*) before I post it over at AO3, but I think this is definitely polished and readable.

Summary: Sherlock's smirk, the arched brow, the teasing humor suffusing his every word: these were chess-moves in a game the two of them have played for long years now, one Mycroft had initiated years ago but which Sherlock had long embraced as well. Mycroft was not bitter, did not wish things could have been different, save perhaps in the way God might move Aquinas's immovable boulder by rewriting the laws of reality. So he had always insisted, to himself most of all.

If that doesn't make it clear, this is Holmescest (Sherlock/Mycroft) and there are brief flashes of sexual imagery though there aren't any actual sex scenes. (Whether it counts as UST or actual incest is a... grey area. Whether John and Sherlock are romantically involved is also a grey area. That's kind of the whole point, actually, or at least a large part of it.) It's essentially my attempt to write a story about two men who were long devoted to the idea that sentiment was a chemical defect, as they try to work out what it means to love and be in love. Also more than a bit of RL philosophy and discussion of The Hobbit. Also also, an account of how Sherlock learned how to handle a gun, and why his gun-safety behavior was so attrociously wrong at the pool and elsewhere.

==> Read Getting Involved, my story for dioscureantwins
==> Read Trimurti, the really exceptional story I received as a gift from hitlikehammers
==> Read (or look at) all the fic + art + videos + etc. created for this exchange. So many treats.

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We're having a bit of a cloudburst (<-- understatement) and I am officially happy the Kid and the Mum and I got our holiday celebrations in early. I plan to commandeer my neighbor's laptop and finally do my patriotic duty by watching Winter Soldier and possibly get caught up on the Daily Show, because that's apparently the flavor my brand of patriotism comes in these days. I'm crossing fingers that the rain holds, because PTSD and fireworks really don't mix well and, much as I hate to rain on everyone's parade, my nerves are a bit shot. I could use the local festivities being rained out this year.

But the rain. The rain is really pretty intense. It's a combintion of a slightly off-and-on omni-soppiness, shot through with twenty-minute periods where it's like God turned on the fawcetts upstairs full blast, like he's trying to flush some sort of heavenly cockroach down the drain and got a bit weirded out by it and it must go away right nao kthxbai. If I may be allowed to mix a metaphor. But you get the idea. And it's been going on for two solid days, with the full-blast faucet thing every hour or two.

It's lovely to listen to, but much less lovely to get stuck out in. Finally got down to pick up Rx refills and laundry from the fluff-and-fold, and soda and a sandwich from the corner bodega. I'd called down to have the sandwich ready, but the man at the counter forgot to give it to the man making the sandwiches and it meant I got caught by one of those cloud-bursts. Because I am a doof, I still managed to forget my umbrella at home, and when the guy at the corner (the owner) saw the weather, he gave me my sandwich for free. I'm a regular and I think he likes to keep me happy as I spend about $10 there every 2-3 days and am generally nice to him. So I got dinner, chocolate, and enough soda to last me at least through the weekend for about $5. Just having it be an unexpected pleasure is really quite nice. And as I was going straight home, getting drenched wasn't so bad - I got to strip down to my undies and dry in front of the AC while I listened to Benny Goodman and pretended I'd had an adventure of sorts.

Yes, I am an odd one.

Now I finally have ideas on how to make the latest story idea a bit less not-good, so I'm going to work on that. But as this post was originally inspired by rain, and as "Twosies Twosies" has been increasingly unsettling (the rain song of my childhood about Noah's Ark - look it up if you've got a stomach for genocide in cute children's songs), have a taste of the other song that matches the mood this weather brings on: "The Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down," from Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh.