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dressform naming woes...

So I have narrowed the name list down to 2 for my adjustable dressform.

You see, she is red, and she has no head.

So it's either Mary Queen of Scots, or Scarlet.

Which one do you think?

EDIT : In honour of all the queens who have lost their heads, and Queenie from Blackadder, I am henceforth naming her Queenie. After all, she was a bit of a dummy..... *ba-doom tsh*

a team slash fic - Leave the light on

So I got this idea listening to Tori Amos and reading Purrs wonderful fill - the idea of Face being down because of what he has to do and not thinking anyone takes the emotional cost seriously. F/M of course :)

- - -

Sticky lips are on his, the strange cosmetic tang that has started to set his teeth on edge. Overly rouged cheeks are blushing a deeper shade as an ample cleavage is pressed against him. He keeps up the facade, smoothing his hands through over-styled curls, the floral perume making his head spin in a far more unpleasant way than it used to. He longs for the harder kiss, the long and dextrous fingers running through his hair, the lithe body in his arms and the smell of gunpowder and something undeniably male and... Murdock. Instead he plays the game, the woman putty in his hands. He fulfills his obligations to Hannibal. He has the information he needs, and he is more relieved than he can say when the woman recieves a phone call that her husband is on the way home and does she want him to bring anything on his way? Face plays the regret game as he leaves, and when he reaches the 'vette he leans against it, and takes a breath. He wipes his hand across his mouth with the back of his hand in an unconcious gesture, and gets into the drivers seat and puts his head in his hands.

He wishes Hannibal knew what this cost him. Not just the feeling that he is betraying Murdock everytime he has to seduce a woman for a con, the way those soft brown eyes look at him with love and understanding and forgiveness he feels he doesn't deserve; or the way he feels he is betraying himself. His sense of who he is. He feels used, unclean. He wants to have a shower and wash away the floral perfume and the feelings of guilt.

With a sigh, he puts the 'vette into gear and drives to their latest scammed home, another result of his exploits. He thinks about coming home to the rest of the guys asleep, warm and safe. He thinks about fumbling for his key in the dark, trying to find the keyhole in the night. Undressing in the dark so as not to disturb anyone, tip-toeing through the house. As if he had something to hide. He reaches the house before he realises, so lost he is in his own thoughts. For a moment he thinks he has driven to the wrong house. There, under the porch, is the warm, welcoming light, waiting just for him. 'Murdock' he thinks fondly, and a small smile is on his face.

He unlocks the door and closes it quietly behind him, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. He sees a soft lamp on in the kitchen, and sighs contentedly as he sees a cup waiting for him, water in the kettle and his favourite chamomile tea sitting in the bag in the cup. He makes his tea and carries it through to the room he shares with murdock, turning off the lamp as he goes. Murdock has left the light on in the ensuite bathroom, and he sits the cup on the bedside table as he cleans himself up in the bathroom, brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed.

He slips into the bed, finishing his cup of tea, looking down at Murdock who shifts in his sleep. He traces the features of his face with his eyes, the impossibly long eyelashes that brush his cheeks, his cheekbones, the way his hair falls on the pillow. He looks around the room, thinks of the porchlight, the tea waiting for him, the light on in the bathroom. He finds himself blinking rapidly. Setting the cup down, he leans over and brushes a kiss over Murdocks lips - the lips his wanted on his own all evening. "You make it all worth it, buddy" he whispers, and tucks himself in beside his lover. Murdocks stirs, still half in sleep. "You back Facey? Missed you baby. Love you" he says, his voice slurred by sleep, and he wraps his warm body around Face, legs entwining and tucking Face's head into the crook of his neck. "Love you too Buddy" Face whispers as he feels himself fall into sleep.



today, over 2 sessions, I managed to walk nearly 6 kilometers without being stuffed at the end.

I haven't felt like this since I was a dancer about 14 years ago before I got sick.

I'm actually starting to get fit, and really enjoying it.

And the Wiifit thing is fun as well. Wii Wars with my mother is absolutely hilarious.

I'm really starting to love being outside again.

plea for a playlist

hey peeps.

so I have to start walking. But I get bored, you see.

So I need to make a playlist that is in 4/4 time that will keep me from getting bored and have me walking at a reasonable pace.

I don't care what genre it is, but if you guys have any suggestions, I would love to hear them!!!!


I'm finally out of the rehab hospital.


one week to go, peeps!

well, I'm back after weekend leave.

only one more week to go, I'm being discharged on saturday the 16th,

It's been ok, and progress haws been made. this thing really works.

And I got a fill from purrslink! YAY!!!

In and settled

well I'm in.

I guess we'll see how it goes.

got the net working.

up up and away...

so untill I get the internet working again, this is it peeps.

I have my internet stick and hopefully it works, otherwise this will be my last transmission.

Off to the rehab centre.

I have the movie and the series dvds, so I have the boys with me.

Maybe I'll get some of my own fic done, you never know.

So I'm going to do a murdock, and fly off into the blue yonder to be institutionalised (kind of) for 3 weeks.

ADIOS MUCHACHOS! I WILL RETURN... I WILL FIND CIVILISATION.... (bonus if you get the ep reference there)

Over and out.

Mar. 26th, 2011

they just aired the graham norton show with liam neesom and bradley cooper.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other! I'd seen bits on youtube, but the whole thing was all, hug, hands on the arm, surreptitious hand behind the back of the chair, hand on the thigh... my mother's all.. "why are they pawing each other so much? but its kind of cute..."



Mar. 25th, 2011


Tomorrow night is my last night home.

I know its right and all, but dammit, I don't want to go. I want to stay cocooned in my blanket and hide from the world.

It's so tempting to just pull out, to just go out there and say to my folks "don't make me go".

but I need to do it.