we stood, steady as the stars in the wood

This Journal is F-Locked!

joely_jo — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 22:07:57 GMT

Owing to the nature of my job and the desire to keep persistent teenage noses out of my private life, this journal is Friends Locked. Please drop me a comment here if you are friending me...

A Lannister Always Spays His Pets

joely_jo — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 21:21:22 GMT

A Lannister Always Spays His Pets, a photo by joely_jo on Flickr.

I really should stop finding this funny. My excuse is that I am married to a vet. Also that I am sad and there really is no hope for me...

A Note On This Journal and Fandom...

joely_jo — Fri, 30 May 2008 07:48:25 GMT

So... for those of you who were wondering... I'm not dead. Not physically, at any rate. Imaginatively, though, almost certainly. It's been several months since I read my flist or wrote anything in my journal, and I have to say that I haven't yet decided whether I've missed it or not.

I actually feel rather guilty that I've neglected LJ for as long as I have, but I just haven't been able to summon the sort of interest in fandom things I once had. And the result of this has been a general lack of desire to write anything, read anything or otherwise contribute.

I don't know what else to say to explain my absence... Of course I could pedal a ream of reasons about having a busy job and a happy relationship for the first time in five years, but the truth is that neither of those things have contributed any more than a little bit. The main thing has been that I just don't feel engaged with fandom stuff the way I used to. I admit that I'm quite interested in the upcoming X-Files movie, but I get most of my information on that from an independent site. The new series of Doctor Who has interested me a little, but I've missed several episodes due to other commitments and I now feel a bit withdrawn from the action. I do, however, hold out some hope that the upcoming run of episodes will give me some reason to get excited. And, finally, in terms of R/T, I just feel that I've written everything I could possibly write and would simply be recycling ideas. Which is fine, I suppose, but I suspect that an audience for that kind of thing would be pretty limited.

And so, here we are... at the stage where I think I'm going to ban fandom from this journal and just post the odd thing about my actual life. Which will probably bore you all to death... and so, if you're friends with me for the fandom stuff, you may want to get rid of me. And I will, of course, not be offended in the slightest!

Fic - Home Soon

joely_jo — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 20:46:33 GMT

Title – Home Soon
Author – joely_jo
Characters – Remus/Tonks
Rating – PG-13 (for a touch of language and some quite suggestive remarks!)
Summary – Soon after their wedding, Remus takes another assignment for the Order and Tonks has something to say about it.
Author’s Note – I don't normally post my fic to this journal, but this was written for the lovely chesnutella, who drew me absolutely gorgeous Coniston Water art you can check out here (Her Remus is the closest Remus to the one that lives in my head). She wanted a humorous misunderstanding with a happy ending. Well, there’s definitely a happy ending, and I tried (really I did) to get a humorous misunderstanding in, but… well… Features Remus/Tonks ‘domestic bliss’ with Mischievous!Remus and PissedOff!Tonks!

“Dora!” The doors to the lift opened with a crunching slide and revealed a familiar figure, head of pink hair buried in a pile of papers fastened to a clipboard. Remus supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised by her presence – this was, after all, her place of work and not his. However, he had gone to considerable pains to avoid such a chance meeting. The last thing he wanted was an emotional fireworks display in front of the entire Ministry staff; if he was going to have to have one at all, he’d rather it was done at home.

The pink head looked up and a pair of steely grey eyes bored into him. There was no mistaking the mood behind them – it was positively frosty. “Remus,” she said, voice cultivated and neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He cleared his throat and feigned the same level of neutrality. “I had some business with Arthur.” In the entrance to the lift, she foxtrotted on the spot for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to commit herself to boarding or not. Remus tried not to smirk at her indecision. “But I’m done now,” he added, instead.

Her lips pursed like she was sucking on a lemon. “But you didn’t think to come and see me?”

Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Remus blinked at her. There was no containing the sigh that forced its way out of his lungs. “I thought we weren’t talking,” he observed. Tonks shrugged her uniformed shoulders and stepped into the lift.

“What’s this then?” she replied. She made a grand show of adjusting the papers she was carrying, then turned to look at him, but didn’t say anything. He stared back.

“You’re bizarre.”

The lift doors closed with a hiss and silence descended, a heavy quiet that gnawed at Remus’s bones like a starving animal. This wasn’t what he’d anticipated when he’d asked Tonks to marry him – that vision had been fuelled by the romance of a slightly intoxicated imagination - and this ‘domestic’ situation was definitely bringing out the worst in both of them. Beside him, Tonks cleared her throat. “Off to hide yourself away again, then?” she asked.

Glancing over at her, Remus returned, “I think I’m going to go home, yes.”

There was another, stilted pause. “Oh. Turning in early?”

“Mm. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

The spark his words lit in her was virtually audible, and she turned to him, eyes flashing incandescent with barely contained rage. But somehow – he didn’t quite know how - she held herself back. “Quite,” she over-enunciated.

There was little point in starting another argument, he knew, even though it was blindingly obvious that was what she was poking at; instead, he drew in a deep breath and gestured to the display above their heads that indicated which level the lift was on. “You haven’t given another destination,” he noted in as casual a tone as he could muster. “I assume that means you’re coming with me?”

Tonks snorted. “Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”

Remus felt his eyes roll into his head. It was excruciating, like having your toenail pulled or a hex backfire. He looked across at her: she was standing perfectly still, facing forward, her arms crossed protectively across her chest, the clipboard hidden behind them like some kind of shield, and her eyes unblinking. In fact, her face was so impassive she might as well have frozen it in place. He sighed, “Look, Dora, I…”

She interrupted him, “I’m going up to the Atrium.” She waved her wand at the ceiling and the lift began to move again.

Knocked back into place, Remus allowed the coldness to descend again for a moment. If she was going to make this difficult, then he could give just as good back again. “All right,” he said in a calm, agreeable tone, ever so slightly sing-song. He knew bloody well it would irritate her.

And sure enough, she didn’t disappoint. “I’m meeting someone,” she added. He nodded and she narrowed her eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

“Whatever you want, Dora... Far be it for me to stand in your way.”

She almost cursed. “Stand in your way?” she repeated incredulously. “Is that what this is about?” She shook her head and turned to face him. “Just because I don’t want you to go on this stupid mission, because in all likelihood you’ll end up being killed or maimed, or worse, you’ll just never return at all. And don’t say you don’t know I’m right – you’re only accepting this mission because it was Dumbledore’s last planned reconnaissance.”

Remus met her flashing eyes. He aimed his wand at the ceiling and stopped the lift. It obeyed with a grinding halt. “I think that’s a gross exaggeration from someone who is far too emotionally close to this.”

“What if it is?” she spat back and set the lift moving again. “Does that bother you?”

“Should it?”

With another flick of his wand, he stopped them once more. Her pout increased and Remus caught sight of her curling her fists. She drew in a deep breath. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” Remus questioned with his most practised expression of innocence.

“You know what. The thing with the lift. Leave it alone!”

She had moved to set the lift going again when he grabbed her arm and held it down, meeting her fiery gaze. He paused a moment, then told her, “Because I’m not leaving this lift until we’ve sorted this out.”

Tonks’ face darkened further. “Then we might as well make ourselves comfortable.” She yanked her trapped arm free and turned away from him, crossing both across her chest again.

“Dora…” he began, but when she showed no sign of turning back to him, he moved in front of her and resolutely pinned her with his eyes. “We should be able to talk about these things. In case you’d forgotten, we’re married now.”

That did it. Whatever semblance of control Tonks had had over her temper evaporated like water in the desert and she shouted, “Oh no, don’t you dare bring that up!” She pointed her wand square at his chest and backed away until she was pressed up against the wall of the lift. The solitary memo that had followed her in drifted closer to the ceiling instinctively. Remus’s hands fell to his sides and he sighed,

“Dora…”

“This has absolutely nothing to do with us being married,” she argued. “It wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference if we weren’t. You’d still be fucking off to Northern Ireland anyway. So don’t think for a second that I should be allowing you extra slack because we swapped a couple of vows last month.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” he replied, unable to keep the wounded tone from his voice. Sometimes she really did surprise him with how wrongly she read him.

“Then why did you bring it up?”

He took a slow step towards her, not unlike a whisperer would do with a wild horse. “Because we should be able to sort out our differences without resorting to this kind of scene.” He gestured at her raised wand and Tonks seemed to suddenly realise what she had been threatening and guiltily lowered her arm. When she said nothing in reply, he added, “Look, when this is finished, when I get back, we could go away for a weekend. Up to the Lakes again, maybe. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” she questioned.

He nodded. “Yes. Somewhere quiet. Where you can have me all to yourself.”

She crossed her arms again. “Hm, I’ll be sure to put the date in my diary.”

Like an ancient rubber band, Remus’s patience snapped and he spread his hands in exasperation. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Dora, I don’t have a choice here! Dumbledore made these plans not me.”

“Of course you didn’t make these plans, Remus. You never plan anything to happen the way it does. If there was anybody whose decisions were guaranteed to backfire, it’s you. Sometimes I actually wonder if you don’t set out to be a total bastard in the first place!”

“Fine!” he rejoined, his voice rising. “I’ll leave the Order! I’ll ignore everything Dumbledore set out for us to do. I’ll stop fighting Voldemort! Then we can go and live in a cottage somewhere and pretend that none of this is happening.” He paused. “Then again, if you’re so worried that I’m going to get myself killed out there on my own, why don’t you come with me?”

“I’ve got work,” replied Tonks acidly.

“Oh, yes, your work. Of course. But you don’t see me stopping you from patrolling the streets of London hunting out Death Eaters…”

“That’s different.”

They sighed in unison.

Silence filled the claustrophobic little lift like an elephant. She shifted positions as they stared at each other, neither backing down. Finally, Remus shook his head and turned away. He aimed his wand at the ceiling and set the lift moving again. “Perhaps this trip is a good idea,” he said softly. “Perhaps we need a bit of time away from each other.”

There was another prickling pause, then Tonks, her voice matching his for quietness, replied, “I don’t need any time away from you, Remus.” He looked back at her. “I don’t want to be away from you at all. Don’t you see that?”

“Then come with me.”

“I can’t…”

He paused, cleared his throat, and tried another tack. “What about tonight, then?”

“Tonight, what?”

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he reached out with the crook of his finger to lift her face towards his, so he could look her in the eyes. “Come with me tonight.”

The flirtation fell flat on its face. Tonks shook her head free of his hold and replied, “No.”

Undeterred, Remus added, “I don’t believe you.”

“I said no, thank you very much.”

He dropped a little at the knees so he could search her face again. “Go on, I’ll cook you dinner. Light a few candles… Make sure the bed’s nice and warm.”

“I’m going to my mother’s.”

“Really?” Remus couldn’t help the grin that filled his face then. There was nothing more ridiculous than Tonks actively choosing to stay over at her mother’s house – at best she found Andromeda bearable, and at worst, they clashed horns in near spectacular fashion. She looked down at her papers again. “Your mother’s, hm? Must be really desperate.”

Her lip curled. “Fuck off, Remus.”

But as she spat the words out, she fought and failed to contain the hint of a smile that passed across her face. Remus, ever the vigilant observer, caught it and pounced. “It’s no use, Dora,” he teased gently. “I saw that smile. You don’t want to go to your mother’s any more than I want to have an interview with Rita Skeeter.” He paused. “Oh, and there it is again.”

He waved his wand at the ceiling and the lift immediately rose through the remaining floors and appeared in the telephone box on the corner of Grouse Lane. With a clunk and a hiss, it came to a halt. Tonks growled and tried to set it moving again, only to find that it was stuck. She turned to Remus, who was wearing a self-satisfied smile on his face. “Remus! I don’t believe you just did that! Do you have any idea how many people are going to be swarming around here checking this for dark curses?”

Remus shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose we’d better make a good use of the time.” He pushed himself against her and tried to kiss her, only to have her haul her body back.

“I said: fuck off, Remus.”

“You know,” he mused, backing off as far as he could in the cramped telephone box. “I’ve always found you remarkably attractive when you’re cross.”

“I suggest you shut up, or you’ll be hexed so badly you won’t be able to go on this mission,” she replied, but there was just the slightest hint that his comment had hit home.

He smiled and tilted his head, catching her gaze again and seeing surrender in it. “Oh well, then you’ll get what you want after all.”

She pouted once more and tried to look away. “So it seems.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“How convenient,” she said with a shake of her head.

Reaching up, he laid his hand along her cheek, fingers twining through her hair, and this time, she didn’t stop him. “There’s nothing convenient about it, Dora,” he murmured. “It’ll be worse than Azkaban.”

As she looked up, he saw that her eyes were watery and she breathed, “Then don’t go… please.”

“Hey…” He smoothed her cheeks and she sniffed back her emotions. “I have to… but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for me.”

“Yeah…”

“Come here…” And he kissed her, letting his lips play over hers, and tasting the tang of retreating anger in her mouth. She broke free and hugged him hard, pressing her face childishly into his chest. A little shocked by her show of dependence, he stroked the back of her head and murmured soft reassurances.

“Three weeks is a long time,” she said, her voice muffled by his jumper.

“Not as long as the whole of last year.”

“Longer.”

He lifted her head up and smiled at her. “I’ll owl you every day.”

“No you won’t,” she said with a wry smile. “But come back safe and I won’t hold it against you.”

Remus stepped backwards and opened the door to the telephone box, eyes still holding hers. “What about tonight? Are you going to hold it against me tonight?”

Tonks crowed a pained ‘oh’ and shook her head. “That’s terrible. Where have you picked all these lines up from?”

He winked as she followed him out of the phone box. “What can I say? Sirius would be proud of me. Right now I bet he’s laughing in his grave.”

“I’m sure he is.” She closed the phone box door and turned back to him, but he was already half a dozen strides down the street, walking casually backwards.

“See you later, then?” he shouted.

She nodded. “I finish about six… I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

And with that she raised her wand and apparated herself back into the Ministry, leaving Remus standing alone on the pavement watching the place where she’d been. His heart released a sigh of relief that let his shoulders drop for the first time in two days and he smiled. “So will I, love…” he said into the air.

The End.
</div>

Benazir Bhutto...

joely_jo — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 17:40:23 GMT

Bloody typical, isn't it? It is events like this that make me certain that religious fanaticism will be the cause of the next world war.

A Lawful Blunder...

joely_jo — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 23:17:13 GMT

Oh, I have to share this with everyone...

(Sent to me in an email from a friend who is a solicitor in London - never let it be said that he takes himself too seriously!)

Lawyer - Doctor _______, before you began the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
Witness - No.
Lawyer - Did you check for blood pressure?
Witness - No.
Lawyer - Did you check for breathing?
Witness - No.
Lawyer - So, then, is it possible that the subject was alive when you began the autopsy?
Witness - No.
Lawyer - And how can you be so sure?
Witness - Because his brain was sitting in a jar on my desk.
Lawyer - But could the subject have been alive nonetheless?
Witness - It is possible that he could have been alive and practising law somewhere, yes.

*chortle*

A little late... but a Birthday Gift nonetheless...

joely_jo — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 08:26:41 GMT

Title – One Step Ahead
Author – joely_jo
Characters – Remus/Tonks
Rating – G
Word Count – 155 words
Summary – Remus is one step ahead of Tonks.
Author’s Note – Anyone can read this, but it’s dedicated to gilpin25, because it’s her birthday (well, it was yesterday, but inspiration didn't strike me until late last night!).

When she found it, she wept.

There was nothing to it – just a scrap of parchment, slightly faded and folded into quarters, pushed between the leaves of Millicent Warboys’ The Rights of the Dark Creatures of Great Britain and Ireland. Its location didn’t surprise her. She supposed that it was an obvious place for it to be – after all where else would she look for that kind of information on werewolves?

What surprised her was the thought, the subtlety and the romance… and the reaction she had to it all. She’d never been one for knights and princesses and stories of happily ever after, oh no, she had always preferred the gritty and realistic to the vagaries of the heart.

And yet here she was; a piece of parchment in her hands, the words written on it splashed with tears.

Marry me, it said, then written beneath, in tiniest cursive script: I’ve checked, it’s legal.

The End.

Happy Birthday, Karen!
</div>

It's a religion, I tell you...

joely_jo — Sat, 06 Oct 2007 12:10:28 GMT

Sometimes it worries me how seriously some men take football. Yesterday was the staff football match. We were playing against another local school, following some kind of dare that had been issued between the PE staff and, needless to say, I have never, in all my living days, seen people take something as seriously. The Head of PE had been planning the game for about three weeks, talking about it EVERY lunchtime without fail. Staff had been cavassed to play via email, text message and other less conventional forms of nagging. The team sheet had been up on the Bulletin Board for about a week, some staff had bought new boots and shinpads for the event, and they'd thought up nicknames for each other that included things like 'The Invisible Man', 'Bite Yer Ankles Jackson', 'Speeding Bullet' and 'Paper Boy'.

By lunchtime there was so much nervous energy running through the staff room that some people couldn't sit still. It was a training day, so a few of us went out to the pub and when we returned, they were in the front playground, passing and practising penalty kicks etc... Someone had parked their car up alongside and they had 'Eye of the Tiger' and 'Three Lions' playing at volume 11...

Needless to say, I hope to God they've won because otherwise Monday will just be unbearable.

You will be missed kileaiya

joely_jo — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 19:55:42 GMT

...

What a star, what a lovely person, who made me smile many, many times. She had a great heart and a wicked sense of humour. I will miss her. My thoughts are with everyone - family, friends and LJ mates.

...

At a cradling that might have been a death...

joely_jo — Tue, 08 May 2007 18:18:42 GMT

The stone rolled away... A hopeful day...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/6634373.stm

I don't often comment on political issues in this journal, but I need to make an exception today. Please let it work this time.

Fanfic Writers Meme...

joely_jo — Sat, 10 Mar 2007 23:00:53 GMT

So, I was tagged by larielromeniel to do this writer's meme. Apparently, I have to name my five favourite fics that I've written, then tag five other people to do the same thing... It was an interesting exercise, actually, because I don't tend to look at my own work in an non-objective fashion like this. Three are R/T and two are DW.

WRITER'S MEME: Sometimes it's ok to pimp yourself out. Post a list of the top five favorite fics you've written, regardless of fandom or the reason you love them. This isn't about the BEST things you've written, but what you LOVE most. Then tag five other people to do the same.

Nine Moments That Lead To Forever - A familiar format for me. I seem to do short and sweet much better than I do long and multi-chaptered. I like this fic because I love seeing snapshots of bigger pictures.

My Rose - The first fic I ever wrote for DW. Told from Mickey's POV and therefore something that was a challenge to write in itself, as I feel most comfortable with Doctor or Rose POV. Oh, and Mickey rocks.

He Who Dares - Probably the fic I'm most proud of. It just gels together for me. I loved writing it.

Conviction - An overlooked fic of mine, but one I love nonetheless. It's dark and angsty to begin with but has a real message of hope and love.

Playing Your Cards Right - I don't write humour very often, because I worry that I'm not actually funny. However, I love this piece cos it's got Sirius in it and I actually reckon I've nailed him pretty well. And, of course, he's so much fun to write.

So, Pugno Mortem isn't in there, Stages isn't in there and neither is Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. Eh. What does that tell you? Either that I'm a harsh judge or I've got really weird taste in fics, I suppose!

And now I tag jadeddiva, ladybracknell, gilpin25, jesspallas and scarlett71177

Two Public Posts in Two Days? This Extravagance Will Surely Be My Undoing...

joely_jo — Sat, 17 Feb 2007 22:16:34 GMT

Boredom bites.

So, it's meme time...

Please leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me.

It can only be one word.

No more.

Then copy & paste this in your journal so that I may leave a word about you.

The passing of time on a Saturday evening can seem terribly slow, especially when there's nothing on the telly except Tom Cruise butchering one of your favourite science-fiction books ever, your fanfics are all either finished or stalled, there's nothing to read that you haven't either read before or firmly believe is a pile of over-rated rubbish and none of your DVDs seem appealing. I'm so bored even the thought of Toby Stephens doing dark and brooding in Jane Eyre is uninteresting.

*sigh*

Think I'll go and make another cup of tea...

Well, knock me down with a feather... my brain has a colour!

joely_jo — Fri, 16 Feb 2007 10:28:02 GMT

Nicked from aibhinn and several others... Watch it spread like a disease... *wicked grin*

Your Brain is Purple

Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic.
You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.
Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries.

You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.

What Color Is Your Brain?

Probably pretty bloody accurate, actually. Especially the bit about fictional people and places. Such a shame I have to live in the Real World for as much time as I do... ;)

Fic update...

joely_jo — Sat, 23 Dec 2006 00:34:31 GMT

I've written a little R/T goodness for the metamorfic_moon Christmas challenge. If you are, by any chance, interested in reading this, you can find it here.

I may just be getting back into R/T...

joely_jo — Mon, 04 Dec 2006 22:10:57 GMT

Title - Memories
Author - Joely
Characters - Remus/Tonks
Author's Note - A silly little fluffy fic written in about twenty minutes after digging about in poetry books, and now belonging to everknowledge , because I want to stop her eating her head with boredom.

Memories

Joshua kissed me when I was five years old. He was eight and my next-door neighbour’s son and it turned out to be a dare to kiss the strange kid with the funny parents. It was spring and I can still remember the hoots of laughter when he ran back to his friends.

Alexander kissed me in the Autumn, underneath the maple trees in the school playground. He’d been told I wanted to kiss him so he stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes closed, waiting for it to happen. I still don’t know why I gave him what he wanted.

But Remus has never kissed me and yet when he smiles at me, it feels as if he has.

Evan kissed me because he thought he liked me, but when he did it turned out that he didn’t, and three days later, I caught him kissing Sally Burrows behind the suit of armour on the fourth floor. I can still remember the screaming in my head as I turned and walked away.

Michael kissed me and I felt like singing. Everything was perfect; it was white with snow in Hogsmeade and the warmth of the butterbeer had gone to my head and I can remember for just a few hours, feeling like I was on top of the world.

Still though, the look in Remus’s eyes haunts me.

Marcus kissed me on the dancefloor but tried to undo my dress down by the lake and got himself a thick lip. Stupid git. I can still remember the cursing and the hot, hot shame as I walked back through the frost to my dorm.

Charlie kissed me because he needed someone to kiss and I was best suited to the task. He told me so and I can still remember how I thought that summer was the best one of my life. Long nights spent sleeping under the stars at the bottom of his garden seeming like perfection until he told me he was in love with someone else.

When I look at Remus, I sometimes think that the smile in his eyes is better than any of these kisses. And I sometimes wonder if I kissed him, would it would feel as good?

The End

And now, back to the real writing... Cybermen, musical instruments and radio, fortunately not all in the same fic... ;)

Not Your Face - updated...

joely_jo — Sat, 14 Oct 2006 21:12:00 GMT

I've just updated Not Your Face over on joelywrites

Clicky

Slightly more timely, I feel... ;)

wipes sweat from brow

joely_jo — Sat, 09 Sep 2006 11:24:16 GMT

Good Lord!

I updated Not Your Face!

*coughs*

Just thought I'd, er, let people know... ;)

Tonks!

joely_jo — Mon, 14 Aug 2006 21:42:13 GMT

Heads up from the_portkey...

First pic of Tonks from the set of OotP!

Though I will say this, they screwed up my Remus-In-My-Head by giving him a moustache, and now they've screwed up my Tonks-In-My-Head by giving her long hair. But she is wearing Doc Martens, so that's cool. Thoughts, anybody?
</div>

chuckles

joely_jo — Wed, 09 Aug 2006 19:35:45 GMT

Oh, this was so very amusing for my little mind... :)

Your LiveJournal Pirate Crew
LiveJournal Username
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest!
Cutlass or pistol?
What is the name of your pirate ship?
Where is your secret pirate base?
What kind of loot do you prefer?
What do you and your crew prefer to be called?
Parrot or monkey?
Argh!

Your capable first mate	scarlett71177
Your bumbling cabin boy with a heart of gold	lacontessamala
The aloof, yet honorable, pirate with a mysterious past	alliesings
Is always the first one into the fray	le_parapluie
Is the naval officer who ruthlessly pursues your ship	morganalefay
Is the comical pirate who is always drunk on grog	jadeddiva
Is currently in Davy Jones's locker	claireydid
The amount of money you make as a pirate	$122,818


This Fun Quiz created by Lynn at BlogQuiz.Net

Leo Horoscope at DailyHoroscopes.Biz

Where is the Muse?

joely_jo — Thu, 03 Aug 2006 18:26:35 GMT

Nicked from alliesings, because I'm bored and I need to write more and my Muse has deserted me...

You Should Be a Film Writer

You don't just create compelling stories, you see them as clearly as a movie in your mind.
You have a knack for details and dialogue. You can really make a character come to life.
Chances are, you enjoy creating all types of stories. The joy is in the storytelling.
And nothing would please you more than millions of people seeing your story on the big screen!

What Type of Writer Should You Be?

Ranty, Ranty, Rant...

joely_jo — Tue, 11 Jul 2006 20:48:23 GMT

So I was searching around one of the old sites I used to frequent when I was a fan of ER and whilst re-reading one of the threads I found myself beginning an internal debate...

In every fandom I've been involved in shippers have been treated like foolish, idiotic, squeeing fangirls with nay more than a pair of brain cells to rub together. It seems that if you express a liking for a particular relationship dynamic, there's always somebody there to slap you in the face and tell you you're being a romantic featherweight.

So my questions are these: Why is it that when there is a hint of a relationship portrayed in a series or book, we get legions of people slapping it in the face? Why was Rose Tyler considered weak for crying her heart out after she was separated from the Doctor? Why was Doug Ross considered weak for walking away from Carol after Ricky died? Why is Tonks considered weak for being depressed by Remus's denial of their love in HBP?

Why is it so difficult to believe that fictional characters should have real human emotions and be affected by them in same way that any of us are? It seems as if some people want their fictional characters not to have the flaws and features that make us human, that they want them to always make the perfect choices and never make mistakes, over-react or, for that matter, under-react... Because when they do display an iota of realistic, believable behaviour to the stimuli of grief, love, sadness, loss and all those other utterly powerful and compelling emotions, people detract the characters and demean those people who support them. And that's what I find so confusing. How can believing in the true nature of human reactions, be they good, bad or indifferent be considered weak or pathetic or fangirly?

To me, fiction is not fiction if you cannot recognise in it elements of real life and facets of human nature.

Doctor Who Photoshop Escapades...

joely_jo — Sun, 09 Jul 2006 20:42:50 GMT

You know you're obsessed when...

This is what happens when you get a song in your head and it matches a seminal moment in a fandom... (spoilers for DW 'Doomsday' contained herein, lyrics taken from James Blunt's 'Goodbye My Lover')

Several icons...

1. 2. 3.

And some wallpapers...

1. 1024 x 768

2. 1024 x 768

3. 1024 x 768

4. 1024 x 768

Hope they're not looking TOO amateur! Please comment if you take... equally any concrit would be loved and appreciated.</div>

The Circle Of Love... PASS IT ON!

joely_jo — Wed, 31 May 2006 20:56:45 GMT

I've been thinking a lot about recs recently. For lots of reasons, but I won't bore you with the details. Well, not all of them, at any rate! ;)

A little while ago, I'm told it was theregoesyamum did a thing called The Circle Of Love. For any of you who didn't see it, it was a post where she picked six stories to rec based on nothing but her own personal preference. I was one of those recs *hee!* and the idea intrigued me.

There are loads of fics I enjoy in my daily wanderings through fandom, but it takes something really 'wow' for me to add a fic to my memories. Consequently, I don't have a lot of memories (although I've just realised exactly HOW that statement would sound to a non-LJ-speaking person!). But still, I felt the Circle Of Love was a fab idea and so I intend to pass it on. Thing is though, I would really like to see other luffly f-listers take up the Circle and PASS IT ON, PASS IT ON! McGonagall was right - we DO need a little more love in the world.

So, what should you do? Well, you should pick six fics you consider to be outstanding examples of writing, characterisation, smuttiness or whatever particular thing floats your boat... BUT, they should be under-appreciated in some way.

Here be mine... If you haven't already, I urge you to read these fics, and if you love them like I did, comment!

The Longing by bumblebean (HP R/T - PG-13) This was utterly beautiful, and I think my heart broke with the last few lines.
Destination Unknown by claireydid (HP R/T - PG-13) One of those 'wow' pieces I was talking about earlier. Very powerful.
A Garden Eastward by le_parapluie (HP R/T - 'strong' PG-13) Short but perfect and extra marks awarded for using the prompt 'bitten apple' in the way it was intended to be used.
Reduction by jadeddiva (HP R/T - R) This is the most recent update, but you need to read the whole story through the links. A very honest portrayal of the character of Tonks.
Shard by centaurea_m (DW Ten/Rose - PG) Powerful emotions, powerful characterisation... just, er, powerful all over, really.
Dishevelled by rabid1st (DW Ten/Rose - R) Ten as a real alien, and hell, if Doctor sex is this interesting, then I volunteer... (like I wouldn't anyway... *sigh*)

The Poll of Doom...

joely_jo — Wed, 12 Apr 2006 08:09:01 GMT

While in the depths of fic writing and editing last night, I had a crisis of confidence. I have a fic that has taken me a little while to write that I was initially happy with, but now feel like it's utter shite. It's more of a light-hearted piece than my normal standard and I think that perhaps this is the problem. Whenever I choose to write in a more light-hearted style (usually because I'm worried about appearing like a 'Fetch me some rope, I can't take it anymore!' type writer)I get this feeling, and it's usually reflected in the number of reviews the piece gets. So I thought I'd ask you guys what style I should stick to when I write... or if you think I should just keep ringing the changes and persevering...

View Poll: The Trials Of Writing

Of course, comments are appreciated too, so long as they're helpful! ;) Cheers!

Fic journal update... finally...

joely_jo — Sat, 18 Mar 2006 20:21:37 GMT

Just a quick heads up to anyone who might not have been involved in rt_challenge. I've just posted links to the entries I made for this challenge on my fic journal, otherwise known as joelywrites.