it's just started raining.
Dear Internet connection: Y U NO WORK. (AGAIN.)
I seem to only update this journal to bemoan my dysfunctional relationship with Technology these days. Rest of the time, considering that my writer's block is reaching heights never before imagined, I've been trying my hand at podfic - apparently my Sherlock voice is ridiculous and very, very posh. A little bit French, too? aw, man, I like it, what can I say.
Speaking of podfic, if you haven't seen it yet, the wonderful quintenttsy has recorded a fantastic version of anywhere i go, you go. ♥♥♥ do listen to it, she has a lovely voice.
In other news: The Social Network fandom has swallowed me completely, ogod. I'd loved the movie when it came out, and I'd dipped in the fandom briefly last year before Sherlock got its grip upon me, but with the current lull in Sherlock fandom I'm (re-)discovering the incredibly talented authors and stories written around Mark&Eduardo Epic Break-Up tragic friendship no, fuck that, it really is an Epic Break-Up. I don't know if any of you are in that fandom at all, but if you've so much as seen the movie, or if you're into Doctor Who (that's a safer demographic on this journal, I reckon), have a rec:
Place That Don't Know My Name, by veritasrecords
eduardo-centric, mark/eduardo, amy/rory | 15,300 words | PG-13
"There's a --" Rory says, stammering. "In the neck -- with your hand. Knocks them out. I learned it in med school," he finishes on a mumble.
"Rory Pond," Eduardo goes with fervent amazement. "You are the most kickass person I know."
and its sequel:
Place Between Here And The Destination, by veritasrecords
mark-centric, mark/eduardo, sean/other!amy, doctor/tardis(?) | 40,000 words | R
"Mark," she greets him, like she does it all the time: Mark isn't entirely unused to this, because the more famous you get, the more magazine articles there are about you and the more movies are made about your life, the more complete strangers come up to you and apparently know everything about you. It never stops being incredibly creepy.
"Sweetie," she says warmly, showing teeth. "You're going to need this, it's psychic," and then she hands him a toilet paper roll.
So much gloriousness, I don't even - just. Read them. Yeah.
I seem to only update this journal to bemoan my dysfunctional relationship with Technology these days. Rest of the time, considering that my writer's block is reaching heights never before imagined, I've been trying my hand at podfic - apparently my Sherlock voice is ridiculous and very, very posh. A little bit French, too? aw, man, I like it, what can I say.
Speaking of podfic, if you haven't seen it yet, the wonderful quintenttsy has recorded a fantastic version of anywhere i go, you go. ♥♥♥ do listen to it, she has a lovely voice.
In other news: The Social Network fandom has swallowed me completely, ogod. I'd loved the movie when it came out, and I'd dipped in the fandom briefly last year before Sherlock got its grip upon me, but with the current lull in Sherlock fandom I'm (re-)discovering the incredibly talented authors and stories written around Mark&Eduardo Epic Break-Up tragic friendship no, fuck that, it really is an Epic Break-Up. I don't know if any of you are in that fandom at all, but if you've so much as seen the movie, or if you're into Doctor Who (that's a safer demographic on this journal, I reckon), have a rec:
Place That Don't Know My Name, by veritasrecords
eduardo-centric, mark/eduardo, amy/rory | 15,300 words | PG-13
"There's a --" Rory says, stammering. "In the neck -- with your hand. Knocks them out. I learned it in med school," he finishes on a mumble.
"Rory Pond," Eduardo goes with fervent amazement. "You are the most kickass person I know."
and its sequel:
Place Between Here And The Destination, by veritasrecords
mark-centric, mark/eduardo, sean/other!amy, doctor/tardis(?) | 40,000 words | R
"Mark," she greets him, like she does it all the time: Mark isn't entirely unused to this, because the more famous you get, the more magazine articles there are about you and the more movies are made about your life, the more complete strangers come up to you and apparently know everything about you. It never stops being incredibly creepy.
"Sweetie," she says warmly, showing teeth. "You're going to need this, it's psychic," and then she hands him a toilet paper roll.
So much gloriousness, I don't even - just. Read them. Yeah.