chaletian: (cs kill bill)
Chalet School fans! Go and read this fic IMMEDIATELY - it is hilarious and awesome and also made of win.
chaletian: (buffy british summer)
I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVEN'T LJED IN SO LONG! I am genuinely shocked by my own lacksadaisical approach at telling you about what I've been doing. SHOCKED. GENUINELY. So, in the seven minutes available before the Lego Head Man lets out his traditional plaintive cry that dinner (in today's case, chicken cacciatore à la Nigella - tasty tasty) is ready to be fettled, I shall update you.

This is, of course, hampered by the fact that I can't remember what I've been doing.

♥ WEDDING! Jess got married to Douglas in the darkest depths of Gloucestershire, and I, along with Katie, Pim and Katherine, went to watch. It was really nice, and we saw various people, and Megan and Hannah were bridesmaids and supercute (they went off rollicking on the grass at the reception place and in their white dresses and Megan's hair up like a little C17th girl, they did look like they belonged in a timeslip story). So, wedding was good, speeches were very good (Jess, I love you and your mother forever for both doing one), realising that the Kate and Fliss I'd been talking were in fact [ profile] chiasmata (well, Kate was), which fact apparently everyone else knew, was VERY EMBARRASSING but tant pis. Plus Travelodge/Little Chef hilarity, SO MANY TAXIS, and CELIA IMRIE being awesome. A good weekend.

♥ Our balcony garden is not yet dead. I know. We're amazed too. In fact, it's thriving: herbs are merrily growing away, we have tiny green strawberries, and our tomato plants are AS TALL AS THE SKY*. There has been a lot of watering, and also spraying of the mint with washing up liquid, as it has traumatically become infested with greenfly. Boofaces. Still, the washing up liquid is doing its promised job (god save Katie and her arcane childhood knowledge), so all is not lost.

♥ I feel I should let everyone know that, when the apocalypse comes, FT can survive for a month or so on baked beans, orange juice and yogurt. But I cannot share this information without attaching a grave warning: don't, when you find yourselves stumbling along the Strand, dodging zombies and trying to scavenge ginger nut biscuits from the bin (I'm looking at you, Helen: I know your tendancies), attempt to breach the barricade of 22 The bally old W. We will react strongly and sternly, and you will find yourself tumbling back down the stairs with the tiny remnant of a hacksaw sticking out of your eye.

♥ So, about that tiny remnant of a hacksaw. We bought a garden cane to be a curtain pole for the balcony door. So far, so good. But we knew it would be too long, so we bought a little hacksaw to cut it down to size. "Hmm," said Katie dubiously, "a hacksaw won't actually saw through wood." "La," said I, ever the optimist, "it will be fine." Came the day, came the garden cane/hacksaw attempt. Which lasted approximately three seconds, up to the point that the hacksaw blade snapped into three. "Ho hum," said I, and began my attempt to saw through a garden cane using the aforementioned tiny remnant of a hacksaw. It was about two inches long. My progress was not inspiring. After a while, Katie came to see what havoc I was causing. After putting newspaper down in a bid to stop me getting sawdust everywhere, she attached herself to one end of the tiny two-inch hacksaw blade remnant. I maintained my grip on the other end. Together, in a thrilling display of teamwork, we sawed that fucker in half. Oh, how we chuckled - near insensate with mirth, we were, and then I said (hilariously, I think we can all agree), "And then they realised they were punching a baboon!" which led to more laughter. Good times, readers, good times.**

♥ In other news, I cracked open my sewing machine, and hemmed the curtain that is to go on the hacksawed garden cane. I also made a top (rough draft with not-so-great material), which needs some work before I make it with proper material. But it's fun to be sewing again - I haven't really for ages (except for curtains etc when we moved in).

♥ Also, I have done other things with my time. I did the Remix Redux challenge, which was quite exciting because I've never done a proper challenge before. Maybe this will be the year I actually sign up for Yuletide! I wrote a Merlin fic which I quite liked in the end, so I will post that here soon.

♥ In other fanfictional news: Chalet School. Zombies. Coming soon to an LJ near you.

♥ Anyway, returning to the previous point. Other stuff. Katie and I went to see Iron Man 2, which I loved because RDJ is the king of ace. We went to a party at Nellie Dean's new house, which was vee nice. Also nice: the gather, the highlight of which was undoubtedly drinking many cocktails (and stealing bits of Kathryn's kumquat liqueur-themed ones) and trying to sing along to Joseph without Helen changing the playlist. After the gather we went to Ikea, and Katie and I bought things we needed without going crazy (the ultimate Ikea challenge). TRAGICALLY AND INEXPLICABLY the Swedish shop did not provide us with salmon paste. We are confused and desolate, just as if a treasured chum had kicked us in our lady bits.

♥ I have become indoctrinated into Criminal Minds. OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SHOW. I love everything about it. I love how the nice people at the beginning don't happen upon a grisly corpse, thereby setting in train the events of the episode. Oh no. They are the grisly corpse(s) setting in train the events of the episode. Also, Garcia is so rocking awesome. And Spencer Reid is made of love. And Jane Lynch may be the most superdooper thing ever. And Hotch is so stern and so adorable, and Morgan is just so stalwart. Anyway. Love.

♥ People should read this fic: Bredon in Narnia - The White Witch tries to tempt a child of Peter and Harriet and fails utterly. As, of course, she would. Also Rain Check - An investigation takes Hotch into Harvelle's Roadhouse. Because it's so just who Hotch and Ellen are.

♥ So, there you are. The last month or so of a squeenly life. I clearly haven't written this is the seven minutes before the Lego Head Man let out his plaintive cry. I have now nearly finished both my dinner and my yellow milk. And so I bid you adieu.

xoxo, Suburban Squeen ***

* Or about two feet tall, depending on how you view the situation.
** Which no one will appreciate, because no one ever does appreciate our hijinks. :-(
chaletian: (cs kill bill)
I am suffering a sudden and unexpected urge to read some CS fic, but I am sadly out of touch. Can anyone recommend some more recent fic. Not too giantly long, please, and nothing too angsty. Light and EBD-ish and lovely, svp! Anyone? Pleeeeease?
chaletian: (ncis tiva)
I'm not sure how many people on my flist watch NCIS, but I recently found such a genius fic that, having determinedly pimped it to [ profile] katie__pillar, I thought I would share it with everyone else.

Ten Nonlinear Moves by Sequitur
Tony doesn't become team leader overnight. First, they have all have to watch movies, develop new neuroses, and make flowcharts. It's set during the season 3/4 hiatus, spoilery bits ) And it's just the most lovely, charming, funny, sort-of-sad in-character fic ever.

He only tries Agent Lee once. “Snakes on a Plane?”

“Is it required?”

He blinks at her. “Is it required?”

“Required viewing. It is about a terrorist attack, isn’t it?”

“It’s about snakes on a plane,” Tony says.

Michelle Lee wrinkles her nose. “I don’t really like snakes, sir.”

“But,” Tony says, “they’re on a plane.”

She doesn’t get it.


Abby, who is tallying up the number of times they have all been injured in an effort to reassure herself that they are very durable people, says, “Tony, you can either destroy your quirks or you can embrace them.”

“Thank you,” Tony says. “Oh, and McGee just gave himself a paper cut, if you want to factor that in.”

She gives it one-quarter tally mark.


“You have five seconds to show me what you were drawing on the back of the take-out menu,” Tony says. “McGee, if this is another one of those things where you’re trying to figure out how many people have to die for you to become director, you will be coming with me on the plane to the conference, and you will be shoved out of an airlock somewhere over the Atlantic.”


“It’s like that movie,” Ziva says proudly.

“Which movie?”

She deflates. “We didn’t actually - - we were just sure you’d know one.”
chaletian: (uncle meh)
Tending the Garden
Fabulously fluffy (and short) Man From UNCLE fic which I would recommend, even to those who don't know Man From UNCLE. Gloriously English and slightly silly.

In other news, Katie and I went to Kathye's last night for a spot of dinner, some Hannah-cuddling, a little bit of Neighbours nostalgia, and of course the blessed Cherry Lambrini. Kathye made me the most beautifully genius birthday present: a photo collage of me and my chums - it's gorgeous, and will be hung forthwith in Fangirl Towers.

We went to see Hairspray, which was the most geeeeenius film ever. Everyone should go and see it. Zac Efron ftw.
chaletian: (hp luna)
Quick Rose/Scorpius fic rec: All Our Tomorrows by [ profile] sandrine

Most of the Rose/Scorpius stuff I've seen has been slightly pants, clearly written by 14 year olds rehashing Draco/Ginny (or Draco/Hermione), but this was really, really good. And there's House stuff. I love it when people discuss the Houses, because I think it's the one giant flaw of Hogwarts, and I don't think JKR did enough to show that it shouldn't matter.
chaletian: (narnia once a queen)
Ooh, this was just recced on [ profile] crack_van and is really good, so I thought I would share...

Knock On All Doors And Enter Nowhere by [ profile] oxoniensis
How the Pevensie children deal with their lives on returning from Narnia. Tis brilliant.
chaletian: (cs kill bill)
I actually recced this ages ago, but have just re-read and it's so fantastic, am reccing it again for those who didn't notice/weren't on my flist the first time round:

Giles Marlow's One And Only by [ profile] ankaret
Giles Marlow brings his fiancée home to Trennels for their wedding. And she's brought guests. AF/CS crossover.
chaletian: (kermit yay)
Have just found the world's best fic. Accidents Will Happen, by [ profile] holli. It's SPN, but so, so genius, that I think everyone should go and read it, because I know most of my flist will get a kick out of it.

(If you're not a Supernatural fan, all you need to know is that Dean and Sam Winchester are brothers whose mother was mysteriously killed by a demon in Sam's nursery when they were kids and their house burnt down, and now they drive around America, being extremely attractive and fighting evil.)

But I'm getting ahead of myself. So my parents were out of town for the weekend-- long story-- and they said absolutely no overnight guests, which, please, I'm sixteen. They're lucky I didn't go get an STD from a boy with a flaming dagger tattoo or something; three girls sleeping over is no big. Right? Right.

And since the spring equinox was that weekend, too, we decided we'd hold the ritual at my house, since Allie's parents are kind of uber-Catholic and still periodically spritz her with holy water to make sure the Goth thing hasn't gotten her possessed. Steph's parents are insane Martha Stewart neat freaks, and Noreen-- well, Noreen never gave me a good reason, actually, which is one of the reasons I blame her for everything. Anyway. She'd spent the last couple weeks putting the ritual together, and getting way too into it, if you ask me. She made Allie ask her uncle, who collects rare books, if he had anything on pagan religions or the history of witchcraft that she could borrow, and she Netflixed the first three seasons of Buffy, and she kept calling me at weird hours to ask how to spell things in Latin and if I knew where she could get chicken feet. Which, no, and no.

Noreen had me painting weird symbols on the backs of everyone's hands: protective sigils, she said. I was starting to think she was getting a little too into her role, here; I knew perfectly well that no one in the room, myself included, had so much as worn black nail polish before sophomore year, and now here we were, all gothed out and about to practice the black arts.

"Hey! 'Black arts' is totally misleading, Leah. We're summoning a protective influence," Noreen said, all snippy. "It's supposed to guide us away from harmful forces, if it works right."

"Fine, whatever, we could have just played 'light as a feather, stiff as a board' and held a seance, we don't have to get in touch with Mother Earth right off the bat." Possibly I was a little on edge. And with good reason, because right as we were lighting the candles and sitting down around the circle, the door at the top of the stairs opened, the lights flicked on, and a supremely bratty voice said "Leah, Mom and Dad said you couldn't have people over. I'm so telling."

I scowled up at my little sister. "Leslie. You are supposed to be in bed."

"Yeah, well, you're supposed to not buy concert tickets with the emergency money Mom left us." Crap. I wish I knew how she figured that out. Devil child.
chaletian: (peter the high king)
Let me pimp Marlows-fic once again:

[ profile] ankaret's Giles Marlow's One And Only

It's a crossover. I'm sure you can all guess with what... *g*

June 2016

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