jojosimco

ALIAS SMITH AND JONES MAGNIFICENT SEVEN PROFESSIONALS STARSKY AND HUTCH SUPERNATURAL THE SENTINEL

All slash is PG-13 or above.  My boys all have potty mouths.  They are like me in that respect. 

                                                                        

( ALIAS SMITH AND JONES Gen )

( ALIAS SMITH AND JONES Slash )

( MAGNIFICENT SEVEN Gen )

( MAGNIFICENT SEVEN Slash (Vin/Ezra) )

( MAGNIFICENT SEVEN Slash (Chris/Ezra) )

( THE PROFESSIONALS Slash )

( STARSKY AND HUTCH Gen )

( STARSKY AND HUTCH Slash )

( SUPERNATURAL Gen )

( SUPERNATURAL Dean/Sam )

( THE SENTINEL Slash )

I made it.

"4th or 5th October, 1918, In the Field

My darling Mother,
.... I came out in order to help these boys - directly by leading them as well as an officer can; indirectly, by watching their sufferings that I may speak of them as well as a pleader can.  I have done the first.
     Of whose blood lies yet crimson on my shoulder where his head was - and where so lately yours was - I must not now write.
    It is all over for a long time.  We are marching steadily back.
    Moreover,
    The War is nearing an end.
    Still,

                        Wilfred and more than Wilfred."

(Letter from the poet Wilfred Owen to his mother, Susan Owen.  He was killed 4th November, 1918,  a week before Armistice)

Bonfire Night aka my son's birthday (gah he went to sleep and woke up a teeeeenager!!!).  Time for the annual incineration of the garden fence. 

And then look!  Banners by talented people for this year's HOLIDAY RECATHON  >>>>>>



bymusesinspire



bydj_aida



bywindiain


Twelve fandoms were chosen in a vote.  If you fancy reccing (and later reading), light the blue touchpaper HERE

Naked men.  Cold water.  Move along folks, no plot here :)

Breakfast at the Hotel Abajo

Instead of finishing my 19th-century novel of railways and brotherhood (what? I had the idea on a train ... but OK yeah, J K Rowling I am not), I’ve spent the last four years (count 'em!) writing this little lot. 

FANFIC MASTERLIST featuring Gen and Slash stories for Alias Smith and Jones Magnificent Seven The Professionals Starsky and Hutch Supernatural The Sentinel

Rather worryingly, the WIP masterlist (which sounds sinister) is almost as long.  Also rather worryingly, while callistosh65 (busy scribbling  during this time a thousand odd miles away) found she'd written more than she thought, I've found I've written way less than I thought.  What the hell, displacement activity has never been so much fun!

Found out today my milkman is called Dean.

Heh.

Never clapped eyes on him (5.30 am delivery, dude!) but I know what I think he looks like. 

:)

Went to Dorset for the weekend.  Very pretty county.  A few odd people (and many nice people like my cousins).  I love the seaside, but I love the city more *g*  Glad to be home - we're pretty strange but at least we don't put animal skulls on our garden walls.

( Jurassic cliffs and sea and pirates )

Mmmm, I'm thinking pink bananas mashed up with pink condensed milk or maybe pink custard or maybe chocolate sauce :)

I like this. This is cool. Now the fics is pretteh, even the ugly ones.

Readability

Just paste it in your browser and when you finds a fic that looks all fanficnetty and splotty you clickit and make the fic pretteh and readable ... kind of like a Kindle fic looks? (dunno, hasn't a Kindle).

I like this.  This is cool.

:)

One of the precious things in my life: going to see dance performances with my big sis.  Last night it was Northern Ballet Theatre's production of Wuthering Heights.  So yay gin and tonics and then we duly got in a lather about Heathcliff's long, dark hair flapping about while he moodied around the stage.  All beautifully done by a fabulous little company.  And suitably wild, passionate and disturbing.  Must read the book again.

And then cowboys.  I've been bitten by a bug wearing a colt-45.  Clip clop!

Have a lovely weekend everybody xx

Suddenly realized why my weekend in Derbyshire was so .... amazing and confusing.

It's because I was being Me.  Not mummy, not wifey, not carer.  Me.  And I don't think I've spent much time with Me since ... gawd, must be decades.

Amazing.

Confusing.

(Is not entirely sure Me is up to much)

 

It's my birthday all day today.

Sun's out, final Ashes Test starts later, my kids made their own breakfast, I got chocolate and book tokens, and a parcel just went thump on my doorstep ... Never Far Apart II, what brilliant timing!  As prezzies go this is right up there with Oliver the goldfish who arrived forty years ago today (and departed a year later *g*).

Am hauling my sorry 48 year-old arse back to bed with a cup of tea and a shedload of lads.

I'm sitting here looking over our street from my beloved Mac, like I do.  And today I'm watching the end of something.

Old lady who lived opposite, since the War, has been in a care home for about the last two years.  Her house, an Edwardian semi like ours, has gradually fallen into disrepair, pigeons in the roof, everything falling down and falling in.  She was a neighbour of my great-aunt who lived in our house during the Blitz years (until we came in 1996).  Funny old stick so I believe (well, both of them actually LOL).  But now she's died and The Men have come to rip the house apart.  Last week it was a skip.  Today they're throwing clothes and curtains and things out the windows, loading broken-up bits of old furniture on to a lorry.  They're practically kitted out in full hazmat gear so God knows what the pigeons (and rats) have got up to.  A bit of the Daily Express from 1937 actually blew out the skip the other day!

And soon, I guess, the house will be scaffolded and primped and painted and a nice family with young children will take up residence.  Everything will move on, as it should.

Kind of sad though.  Especially the clothes fluttering down and landing in a heap on the broken-down fence.

I am reflective and mournful because I cannot sleep and the world starts to seem a bit weird after several months of insomnia.

(I think the pigeons are pissed off, too.  They sit on the roof and coo menacingly, just like that Hitchcock film *g*)

Who will bring me sleeping fic?  A snoozing Bodie or a Sammy curled up with his brother?  Lay the Magnificent Seven out in a dormitory if you like, I don't care!  Just please point me to someone who's asleep and give me inspiration ....

ETA: hazmat suits off, tattoos out.  That's more like it.

Hee!  Nicked from callistosh65  - it's a meme of questions to answer using episode titles from a favourite show ...

( My Life according to Pros )

Hee, how cool.  The Boy (12y) has just finished day one of a film-making course being run by Nick Rae, who was First Assistant Director on a couple of Season One Torchwood eps - 1x03 Ghost Machine and 1x05 Small Worlds apparently.  He seemed like a nice bloke, I may have to go and gab at him after pick-up tomorrow *g*

There’s been some good chat on flist and beyond lately about being in fandom, writing/reading fanfic, reactions to tellyshows and whether or not some of us are bonkers. 

Some of it makes me feel insecure because I’m secretly worried I might be bonkers.  Heh.  Then again, I guess it’s easy to suck up negativity off the internet and be freaked by it.  But oooh there are such cool people out there who I agree with so maybe I’m not bonkers after all!

So I got to thinking (a painful process) about what I’m here for (in fandomland, I mean, not specifically LJ).  And ha!  actually, this discussion takes place in a wider context every bleedin’ Friday night with my husband who likes to kick around the BIG issues over a bottle of two of somethingorother and even after x years I still have no idea what I’m here for *g*.

( slightly angsty blather + random ER/Robin Hood/Prison Break/Torchwood spoilers )

And, after all that, and coming to no conclusions whatsoever, of course I’m really here to gab with y’all and look at your nice pictures and hear about interesting lives.

And I do love fandomland (except for when it makes me squeak in terror).  It’s a sort of a messy, mixed-up, dysfunctional family (cue Bobby Singer from Supernatural ... “they’re supposed to make you miserable!”).  Heh. 

Here’s to a good week for us all :-)

So the inaugural unveiling of my first cowboy-boyfriend-whump has taken place atmag7_fic .  It's Gen and hurty - I am nothing if not totally predictable *g*

Strange Bedfellows

Y'all don't need to take any notice of this of course, I'm just being tidy-minded.

But here's a few more Monument Valley pics from April just to be sociable and cos there's hawses

( and because the sky does amazing things ... )

OK, so manic phase over.  I am in possession of a husband, ejected from Tehran earlier today.  A bit bruised, which freaks me the heck out, but in one piece.  I'm so relieved I came over all wifey ... cleaned the house, nurtured the kids, cooked ... like, dinner!  That you can eat!

So yeah, lucky me.  I am duly thankful.  Many in Iran not so lucky.