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Goddamn fucking *insert many expletives here* Australia *sucks*.
Why on EARTH did that terrible Levi guy get through instead of the (much more talented and less irritating) Courtney Act, who should have gotten through just on the basis of fun anyway?! I am glad Bek and Cosima got through, because they're pretty cool (even though--and I have to say this despite the mean factor--Cosima's cheekbones could slice through glass), but WHY LEVI?! Have you no taste, Australia? Are we not more advanced as a society than to have some tryhard Craig David-wannabe beat out an actually interesting, if genderbending, entertainer?? SO BLOODY PISSED OFF!!!!
GIP
Well, today was not terribly interesting, and I have decided that I need to get to know more people because the socialising aspect of my university time is seriously lacking. I bumped into Anna and Melissa today, and I'm beginning to wonder if I actually imagined Catherine, the LotR slasher from my Film Studies class, because I haven't seen her since last Monday. My classes were immensely boring, but I got my assignment in on time, and the documentary today was moderately interesting, for most of the time--Celso and Cora, about a poor couple in the Phillippines. The film for today was quite severely disturbing, however--it's called Sweetie, and Aussie film by Jane Campion, and I won't summarise it because...well, I can't. Nice framing, interesting shots and camera work, but downright creepy subject matter and a definite sense of distance from the characters.
Title: Bright Lights
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe/Lana
Rating: PG (lil swearing)
Author's Notes: for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
contrelamontre food challenge. Someone dared me to write femslash--yes, you. *pokes* So I did. My first foray into femslash, which I have little personal interest in, so it's probably crap.
Summary: Chloe gets Lana drunk, and Lana wants pancakes.
Bright Lights
Thinking about it now, Chloe reflected that it may not have been the best idea, following the break-up with Clark, to get Lana drunk.
Then again, it hadn’t taken much. A couple of basic mixers followed by a tequila shot or two and now here she was, racing ahead of Chloe in the streets outside the less seedy clubs of Metropolis in her classy black pumps. Her spike heel hit a crack in the pavement, and she stumbled forward slightly. Chloe started, though what she was intending to do she didn’t know; it wasn’t as though she was strong enough to catch Lana as she fell. Lana swung her hands out and, blessedly, struck a lamppost, which she swung around to get her balance. She clung to it as she reached down to slip off her shoes before setting off again, padding barefoot along the wet black footpath, Chloe still trying to keep up.
“C’mon, Chlo! Pancakes!” Lana shouted, slurring slightly and waving her shoes in the vague are of the neon sign proudly declaring its wares: Pizza. Chloe groaned.
“Hey, Lana, wait…” she called after her inebriated friend, but Lana just laughed shrilly, ignoring the feeling of the slippery tar under her bare feet as she skipped down the streets in a strapless black number that shone like the ground she walked on. Her hair was swept up in some complicated manner that involved butterfly clips and that Chloe hadn’t fully understood when Lana had tried to explain it to her, though whether it was Lana’s drunkenness or Chloe’s lack of interest in fashion was yet to be determined. A couple of strands had fallen around Lana’s heavily made-up face, but Chloe still felt horrendously plain beside her gorgeous, if dishevelled, friend. Chloe glanced down at herself; silver tank top, black pants, boots. Boring. She let out a sigh and looked up to see Lana trying to communicate with the pizza vendor.
“Do you sell pancakes?” she asked brightly, flirting slightly with the acne-ridden blond guy behind the cash register, who was blushing furiously.
“Uh…n-no, just pizza.”
”Are you sure you don’t sell pancakes?”
”Fairly sure.”
”But I really want pancakes…”
“Sorry ma’am, there’s nowhere around here that sells pancakes. We just sell pizza.” Lana pouted and stomped her foot petulantly, sending water droplets from the puddle below her feet splashing up her bare ankle. By this time, Chloe had finally reached her and clasped onto her arm, flashing her patented Chloe smile at the hapless pizza guy.
”Hi, I’m sorry about my friend. Can we just get, uh, two slices of Hawaiian?”
”I want Supreme,” Lana whispered in Chloe’s ear, resting her chin on Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe shuddered slightly before her smile returned.
“Sorry again. One Hawaiian, one Supreme, please.” The kid smiled back—well, leered back—and handed Chloe the pizza slices in white paper towels that quickly began to soak up the grease. Lana grinned at Chloe and hugged her briefly before grabbing Chloe’s Hawaiian out of her hand and raising it into the air.
“To Clark!” she cried, her eyes staring defiantly into the sky. Chloe grinned and nodded her agreement.
”Fuck him,” she added, touching her slice of pizza to Lana’s. Pulling them apart she discovered that the action had caused the toppings to merge, so that she could no longer tell which one was originally Hawaiian anyway.
Chloe bit into her slice of pizza and it warmed her up instantly, burning the roof of her mouth slightly, and she let the taste linger a moment before chewing and swallowing. A tug on her hand and she fell forwards; Lana tipped her head and her mouth came to meet Chloe’s. Chloe was amazed by how soft Lana’s mouth was, the gently insistent pressure of Lana’s tongue against her lips; she opened her mouth instinctively and Lana slipped her tongue in, slippery sweet. After a moment they pulled apart, and Chloe watched the streetlamps sparkle in Lana’s eyes.
“Fuck’im,” Lana breathed, and leaned in once more.
Title: Man in the Mirror
Pairing: Domando
Rating: G
Author's Notes: This is what happens when you mix film class and psychology.
Summary: Dom doesn't see what everyone else sees.
Man in the Mirror
The mirror stands cruelly, cold before Dom, reflecting his image back to him in the same way he’s always seen it. He watches himself, watches his eyes narrow and widen and the eyebrows that follow, watches his mouth contort into twisted shapes. He’s been trying to keep eye contact with Sean, to focus on the conversation, but he can’t tear his eyes off his reflection; the mouth that seems to move independently of the words that issued from it, the wingnut ears that shift forward and back depending on the expression on Dom’s lopsided face.
Eventually, Sean laves Dom with himself; the sun is setting and he sits in the semi-darkness, his face an almost hallucinatory image in front of him. He studies it carefully for something, anything, of the beauty that other people say they can see. Do they see a different man to the scrawny fool that sits before him now? Does his own image come back distorted to his eyes? Finally, he moves; in the dark, now, he stretches his long white fingers toward the mirror as his image’s ghostly fingers reach out for him.
“You can’t fall in, I’ve tried,” comes a voice from the door, thick with exhaustion, but laced with concern. Orlando walks in—no, glides, he glides in, because elves don’t walk, Dom thinks, before turning his eyes back to the mirror they were startled from. Orlando’s arms drop around Dom’s shoulders to land on his chest; Orli’s hand slips between the buttons of Dom’s shirt to rest on the warm skin over Dom’s ribs. Dom can feel his own heartbeat through Orlando’s hand on his chest, reflected back like the mirror, only with warm feeling instead of cold pictures.
“Come to bed,” Orlando insists after a few moments, pulling the collar on Dom’s shirt. As they leave, Orlando leading Dom by the hand, Dom glances back over his shoulder; in the mirror, a stranger, happy and beautiful, smiles back.
Link of the Day is Penny Arcade, which I've been hearing about forever but was too slack to go see, and am now addicted to.
For the pics of the day, I'm being creative and using a very weird meme in which I pick my favourite of the icons of everyone on my friends' list. Gacked from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ritergirl who rocks.
abundantlyqueer
airlia_vega
alexmalfoy
I don't know who that is, but the icon makes me laugh.
altricial
She's got a slightly disturbing Elle Woods thing going on, so this.
buffonia
Buffonia's icons are all great, but I particularly like this one for obvious reasons.
cassieclaire
chash
*scared*
ckr
Because of my current Craig Parker love. It says Haldir, Beloved Warrior.
delcj
etsu_88
It was a hard call--this or the "eww, het"?
fayte
fire_bad
All her pics are of this guy.
green_luv
Because you can't go past asyndarys icon.
iconxwhore
jubilancy
kittypantz
TINHAT SOLIDARITY!
ladyjp
lavita
guh.
litanya
This icon series rocks.
mellowdramatic_
midnightraven84
naughtyevil
ninjashoes
ritergirl
salogel42
sandpapertouch
sandradelete
sugarplum643
lol yeah I know I made it. But I like it!!!
sunlit5
hehehe
synchronik has no piccies
syndarys
An award winner.
thepsychicclam
coz it makes me feel all fuzzy.
tobymalfoy
trigaria
virgaus
woopdeedoo16
xandri
DAMMIT, AUSTRALIA, GROW UP.
Green Queen
Why on EARTH did that terrible Levi guy get through instead of the (much more talented and less irritating) Courtney Act, who should have gotten through just on the basis of fun anyway?! I am glad Bek and Cosima got through, because they're pretty cool (even though--and I have to say this despite the mean factor--Cosima's cheekbones could slice through glass), but WHY LEVI?! Have you no taste, Australia? Are we not more advanced as a society than to have some tryhard Craig David-wannabe beat out an actually interesting, if genderbending, entertainer?? SO BLOODY PISSED OFF!!!!
GIP
Well, today was not terribly interesting, and I have decided that I need to get to know more people because the socialising aspect of my university time is seriously lacking. I bumped into Anna and Melissa today, and I'm beginning to wonder if I actually imagined Catherine, the LotR slasher from my Film Studies class, because I haven't seen her since last Monday. My classes were immensely boring, but I got my assignment in on time, and the documentary today was moderately interesting, for most of the time--Celso and Cora, about a poor couple in the Phillippines. The film for today was quite severely disturbing, however--it's called Sweetie, and Aussie film by Jane Campion, and I won't summarise it because...well, I can't. Nice framing, interesting shots and camera work, but downright creepy subject matter and a definite sense of distance from the characters.
Title: Bright Lights
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chloe/Lana
Rating: PG (lil swearing)
Author's Notes: for the
contrelamontre food challenge. Someone dared me to write femslash--yes, you. *pokes* So I did. My first foray into femslash, which I have little personal interest in, so it's probably crap.Summary: Chloe gets Lana drunk, and Lana wants pancakes.
Bright Lights
Thinking about it now, Chloe reflected that it may not have been the best idea, following the break-up with Clark, to get Lana drunk.
Then again, it hadn’t taken much. A couple of basic mixers followed by a tequila shot or two and now here she was, racing ahead of Chloe in the streets outside the less seedy clubs of Metropolis in her classy black pumps. Her spike heel hit a crack in the pavement, and she stumbled forward slightly. Chloe started, though what she was intending to do she didn’t know; it wasn’t as though she was strong enough to catch Lana as she fell. Lana swung her hands out and, blessedly, struck a lamppost, which she swung around to get her balance. She clung to it as she reached down to slip off her shoes before setting off again, padding barefoot along the wet black footpath, Chloe still trying to keep up.
“C’mon, Chlo! Pancakes!” Lana shouted, slurring slightly and waving her shoes in the vague are of the neon sign proudly declaring its wares: Pizza. Chloe groaned.
“Hey, Lana, wait…” she called after her inebriated friend, but Lana just laughed shrilly, ignoring the feeling of the slippery tar under her bare feet as she skipped down the streets in a strapless black number that shone like the ground she walked on. Her hair was swept up in some complicated manner that involved butterfly clips and that Chloe hadn’t fully understood when Lana had tried to explain it to her, though whether it was Lana’s drunkenness or Chloe’s lack of interest in fashion was yet to be determined. A couple of strands had fallen around Lana’s heavily made-up face, but Chloe still felt horrendously plain beside her gorgeous, if dishevelled, friend. Chloe glanced down at herself; silver tank top, black pants, boots. Boring. She let out a sigh and looked up to see Lana trying to communicate with the pizza vendor.
“Do you sell pancakes?” she asked brightly, flirting slightly with the acne-ridden blond guy behind the cash register, who was blushing furiously.
“Uh…n-no, just pizza.”
”Are you sure you don’t sell pancakes?”
”Fairly sure.”
”But I really want pancakes…”
“Sorry ma’am, there’s nowhere around here that sells pancakes. We just sell pizza.” Lana pouted and stomped her foot petulantly, sending water droplets from the puddle below her feet splashing up her bare ankle. By this time, Chloe had finally reached her and clasped onto her arm, flashing her patented Chloe smile at the hapless pizza guy.
”Hi, I’m sorry about my friend. Can we just get, uh, two slices of Hawaiian?”
”I want Supreme,” Lana whispered in Chloe’s ear, resting her chin on Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe shuddered slightly before her smile returned.
“Sorry again. One Hawaiian, one Supreme, please.” The kid smiled back—well, leered back—and handed Chloe the pizza slices in white paper towels that quickly began to soak up the grease. Lana grinned at Chloe and hugged her briefly before grabbing Chloe’s Hawaiian out of her hand and raising it into the air.
“To Clark!” she cried, her eyes staring defiantly into the sky. Chloe grinned and nodded her agreement.
”Fuck him,” she added, touching her slice of pizza to Lana’s. Pulling them apart she discovered that the action had caused the toppings to merge, so that she could no longer tell which one was originally Hawaiian anyway.
Chloe bit into her slice of pizza and it warmed her up instantly, burning the roof of her mouth slightly, and she let the taste linger a moment before chewing and swallowing. A tug on her hand and she fell forwards; Lana tipped her head and her mouth came to meet Chloe’s. Chloe was amazed by how soft Lana’s mouth was, the gently insistent pressure of Lana’s tongue against her lips; she opened her mouth instinctively and Lana slipped her tongue in, slippery sweet. After a moment they pulled apart, and Chloe watched the streetlamps sparkle in Lana’s eyes.
“Fuck’im,” Lana breathed, and leaned in once more.
Title: Man in the Mirror
Pairing: Domando
Rating: G
Author's Notes: This is what happens when you mix film class and psychology.
Summary: Dom doesn't see what everyone else sees.
Man in the Mirror
The mirror stands cruelly, cold before Dom, reflecting his image back to him in the same way he’s always seen it. He watches himself, watches his eyes narrow and widen and the eyebrows that follow, watches his mouth contort into twisted shapes. He’s been trying to keep eye contact with Sean, to focus on the conversation, but he can’t tear his eyes off his reflection; the mouth that seems to move independently of the words that issued from it, the wingnut ears that shift forward and back depending on the expression on Dom’s lopsided face.
Eventually, Sean laves Dom with himself; the sun is setting and he sits in the semi-darkness, his face an almost hallucinatory image in front of him. He studies it carefully for something, anything, of the beauty that other people say they can see. Do they see a different man to the scrawny fool that sits before him now? Does his own image come back distorted to his eyes? Finally, he moves; in the dark, now, he stretches his long white fingers toward the mirror as his image’s ghostly fingers reach out for him.
“You can’t fall in, I’ve tried,” comes a voice from the door, thick with exhaustion, but laced with concern. Orlando walks in—no, glides, he glides in, because elves don’t walk, Dom thinks, before turning his eyes back to the mirror they were startled from. Orlando’s arms drop around Dom’s shoulders to land on his chest; Orli’s hand slips between the buttons of Dom’s shirt to rest on the warm skin over Dom’s ribs. Dom can feel his own heartbeat through Orlando’s hand on his chest, reflected back like the mirror, only with warm feeling instead of cold pictures.
“Come to bed,” Orlando insists after a few moments, pulling the collar on Dom’s shirt. As they leave, Orlando leading Dom by the hand, Dom glances back over his shoulder; in the mirror, a stranger, happy and beautiful, smiles back.
Link of the Day is Penny Arcade, which I've been hearing about forever but was too slack to go see, and am now addicted to.
For the pics of the day, I'm being creative and using a very weird meme in which I pick my favourite of the icons of everyone on my friends' list. Gacked from
ritergirl who rocks.abundantlyqueerairlia_vegaalexmalfoyI don't know who that is, but the icon makes me laugh.
altricialShe's got a slightly disturbing Elle Woods thing going on, so this.
buffoniaBuffonia's icons are all great, but I particularly like this one for obvious reasons.
cassieclairechash*scared*
ckrBecause of my current Craig Parker love. It says Haldir, Beloved Warrior.
delcjetsu_88It was a hard call--this or the "eww, het"?
faytefire_badAll her pics are of this guy.
green_luvBecause you can't go past a
syndarys icon.iconxwhorejubilancykittypantzTINHAT SOLIDARITY!
ladyjplavitaguh.
litanyaThis icon series rocks.
mellowdramatic_midnightraven84naughtyevilninjashoesritergirlsalogel42sandpapertouchsandradeletesugarplum643lol yeah I know I made it. But I like it!!!
sunlit5hehehe
synchronik has no picciessyndarysAn award winner.
thepsychicclamcoz it makes me feel all fuzzy.
tobymalfoytrigariavirgauswoopdeedoo16xandriDAMMIT, AUSTRALIA, GROW UP.
Green Queen
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Cosima, I don't know what I think about her. She has a good voice, but there's something about her...maybe it's cause she looks like a slightly deformed Courtney Cox Arquette.
Levi. Grrrrr. He's an ok singer but Courtney is so fucking funny! How did she not get in?!?
DAMMIT, AUSTRALIA, GROW UP.
Damn straight...
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