Flistcut! My first significant one, really -- if I cut you, I felt like we never talked (sometimes this was literally the case) and I wasn't really paying much attention to your LJ (my fault, not yours). Sorry guys! Hopefully no one will be too heartbroken by it. D: ♥

(Also, if we do talk relatively often and you found yourself cut, um, it's probably a mistake and tell me. >__> IT'S BEEN KNOWN TO HAPPEN.)

(FIRST OFF: PLEASE KEEP COMMENTS SPOILER-FREE, FOR THE BENEFIT OF WEST COASTERS READING.)

Okay, so y'all are probably aware, unless you never pay attention to a word of my LJ, that I am a pretty big AI fan this season -- and, again, unless you've completely ignored my LJ for the past two months, you are probably aware that this is entirely because of this man.

So tonight is it. The finale. And even for those who don't watch AI, I want to ask you to vote for David Cook. I'm going to offer as much incentive as I can for this.

For every five votes for David Cook tonight from people who don't normally vote, I will write a drabble -- any fandom, any pairing, as long as I get a prompt (even a word is enough) -- or make three icons of any theme or pictures provided.

If you vote more, I will write more for you. (Ten votes, two drabbles, fifteen votes, three, etc.) If you hoard votes to tell me you've given fifty or so and request a longer fic, I will do that.

Don't want to take my word for it? Need incentive? I'll give you all the incentive you need.

David Cook deserves to win. He truly, truly does, and I'll do whatever it takes to get y'all voting to make this happen.

For those who have been around all season, voting every week? Twenty-five votes will earn you the above, because you guys deserve love and rewards too. ♥



The numbers are here: vote during 9PM-1AM EST and PST.
If you have AT&T, you can text "VOTE" to 5701.



Thank you so much if you do this, guys. Please, please pimp it even briefly if you have people with nothing to do tonight on your flist, or something. I'd really appreciate it, and so will he. ♥

Edit: rhombal and expatiates are also offering incentives -- the latter including paid account time and the former's post has spoilers in the beginning, so I won't link it, but her writing is much better than mine, so go to hers too! ♥

I remember reading my first slash fic and being horrified by the thought.

I remember my then-best friend grabbing my hand while we watched The Matrix and not letting go for too long, and I remember trying to hide my smile because I didn't want her to.

I remember sitting in my room in my grandparents' apartment sketching the faces of two girls kissing and writing without spaces next to it "ohmygodIcan'tbelievethisIthinkI'malesbian".

I remember my grandmother telling me that homosexuality was the worst possible thing in the world, the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone, and I remember crying in the bathroom of our hotel room on the beach in Montenegro because I knew I had to forget who I might be.

I remember crushes on my eighth grade science teacher, my one and only real teacher crush, because she was so pretty and young and nice.

I remember coming to terms with bisexuality in an Internet environment where it was okay, I remember confessing a crush to a friend, and I remember her expressing that she didn't believe me, thought I was only doing it to fit in.

I remember believing firmly in gay rights, never in homosexuality being wrong, even when I was strongly Christian.

I remember the time I knew I was in love with a girl.

I remember telling one person in my school of 2100 and his offering me hugs, support, and genuine happiness whenever I told him anything about it.

I remember throwing my grandmother out of my room because she had sat me down and told me that homosexuality was worse than incest in the great scheme of things. I remember crying to my mother after it.

I remember spending a day as a nervous wreck, crying and shaking and unable to function properly, because I had to tell my best friend about my mother's hate.

I remember genuinely worrying, up until the day of, that I'd somehow manufactured a fake attraction through the internet and that I really was straight and everything would be ruined, and I remember every doubt leaving the first time I kissed my girlfriend.

I remember trying to tell my mother three times that I was bisexual and her still not knowing.

I remember writing a countdown on my whiteboard for the days until I saw my girlfriend again and someone drawing a smiley face next to it.

I remember wanting to step into traffic when my grandfather, my favourite family member, told me earnestly and seriously to watch out for befriending lesbians in college.

I remember my roommate's sister treating, upon our first meeting, the news that I was going to see my girlfriend soon like she would anyone else's being about to see someone they loved, and I remember her genuine happiness that we might be closer together next year, just because we were in love.

I remember being terrified of asking my father what he thinks of homosexuality because I don't want to ruin what feels like my last true strong family relationship with an older figure.

I remember crying with joy when I tried to find the words to tell my sister that homosexuality was okay and her nodding and telling me that she knew, that she might not like it but that she'd never treat it like our mother did.

I remember hating to think about the future because I can't think of one in which my mother calmly accepts the fact that any grandchildren I have might be adopted because my spouse might not be male.

I remember standing up on Coming Out Day 2006, my first semester of college, to a few spatterings of applause, and I remember my Theatre TA, my favourite one that semester, coming up to me after class, and I remember the exact tone of voice in which he said "That took courage. I'm impressed."

I remember sitting in classes of presumably progressive, young, liberal people and still being afraid to be completely honest.

I remember being proud of being who I am, no longer feeling the need for any sort of shame because I know it isn't wrong and I'm all right with it.

I remember still being afraid of what the future holds, both because of and despite of my staying silent.

I remember still hoping, still working, still living for a day where it won't matter to anyone, where I can choose silence out of discretion rather than worry and fear, where everyone accepts love for what it is, in every form.

♥

Okay, time for another installment of Project: Pretty. Odd., as I've decided to dub this album-mashup thing (even though I'll hopefully go past Pretty. Odd. eventually).

And this time we have... ( Die. Slow. -- The Black Parade/Pretty. Odd. )

Mostly I want to know how this affects the actual concept-album going on there. Is the Patient now on weed? Does lessthangreat's theory that Panic met the Cobra have any impact on the story? DISCUSS, GIEZ. I want to hear thoughts!

Also, by popular demand, your first installment of lyrics, too. ( Set number one -- Whn Th Dy Mt Th Nght )

(Coming up next: Goodbye. Blues. and I've Got All This Mad In My Ears And None On My Rabbits. Stay tuned!)

Do we want this to go on, y/n/your crack is electric/dear god no one should ever let you stay up late and talk to bandom people?

(I apologize in advance for anyone not in bandom -- this is going public because I don't have half of the people responsible for it friended.)

So. There was talk in a certain bandom chat about how OHNOES, BECAUSE PETE WILL BE MAKING HAPPY MUSIC DUE TO ASHLEE, FOB WILL BECOME PANIC. And then -- I kind of decided that clearly, the latest albums needed tracksmushing.

And thus was born ( Infinity. On. High. )

GOING PLATINUM, Y/MFY?

But.



... ^___________^

Soooo after being the sixty-first person to get the book at my Borders, I just finished DH.

( Reactions, typed as I read, under here. )

( Overall reactions, also containing spoilers, obviously. )

AND NOW I AM GOING TO SLEEP, BECAUSE I DESERVE IT.

Okay, in the tradition of the Dili -- ask my puppets questions. Any from here or here (though the latter are encouraged more) are fair game, and I'll do my best to poke them into answering honestly. :D

So I'm doing my Rhetoric rereading, and it strikes me once more how much I hate Plato's Gorgias. This is why -- the work can be summarized like so: "HI, THE SOPHISTS SUCK A LOT :D :D LOOK AT THE BLATANT STEREOTYPES I'VE CREATED. ALL SOPHISTS ARE LIKE THIS. RLY. WATCH MY SELF-INSERT TOTALLY PWN THEM! ...BUT HE'S NOT A MARY SUE. HE HAS SOCRATES'S NAME. NOT MINE. :D"

...I'm not even kidding. The entire thing is just him mercilessly bashing clear overexaggerations of the Sophists. Were it fanfic, it would be getting flames by the second.

( A slightly longer summary. )

...yeah. The Greeks are special, special people.