tigerjaw:

theimpossibleeccentric:

tigerjaw:

nickkenning:

askanthea:

mr-trevor:

governmentsanctionedbrollies:

jiminwestwood:

nickkenning:

askanthea:

governmentsanctionedbrollies:

nickkenning:

jiminwestwood said: Looks like Miss Anthea’s finally learned to turn the other cheek.

Yeah, merry ChristmASS. :D

Please stop.

Yes please.

Sorry, I shouldn’t make a crack at someone else’s expense.

Yeah, Nicky. You’re making an arse of yourself.

Alright, this has gone far enough. No ifs, ands, or butts.

Come, now. You really shouldn’t make Anthea the butt of all these jokes.

You are all children.

Sorry.  I guess it was a bit assinine.

nothing wrong with being a bit of a smart ass now and then.

Anthea, I’m so sorry you have to put up with all this cheek. What a bunch of smart asses. 

i figured we should all get at least one crack at it.

We’re all just bumming around a bit, having some fun.

mr-trevor:

jiminwestwood replied to your post: ok so why is your dog called ‘Gloria.’ there is nothing glorious about her. she’s damn ugly, innit, blud.

((Truffle’s put out a hit on this anon already.))

deFEND YOUR LADY LOVE TRUFFLE)

mr-trevor:

jiminwestwood replied to your post: Dear Gloria, Tell your master that you should have a cat companion. And to give his employee a sofa to sleep on til he has a flat again. Tritonus((Truffle totally supports Gloria.))

jiminwestwood replied to your post: Dear Gloria, Tell your master that you should have a cat companion. And to give his employee a sofa to sleep on til he has a flat again. Tritonus

1. Nick Kenning, London, 2002. NIN ‘Closer’ much too loud on the stereo, maths homework all over the kitchen table, which I was getting a rather close viewing of, as I myself was bent over that table. I came, he came, I solved a maths problem that had been bothering me all evening. (Nick is probably the only person in the world this would not offend.)
2. Sebastian Moran, London, stacks of a wee, obscure library. Sometimes indulging someone else’s kink can almost make it yours. Forehead pressed against dusty book spines, one foot braced on the shelf two up from the floor. I actually grabbed a book by Harold Nicolson and didn’t realize I was holding it until I dropped it on Sebastian’s foot afterwards.
3. Sebastian Moran, Moscow, shower. I had never in my life been spoken to that way. Best. Shower. Ever.
4. Unnamed partner, Sussex. It went south pretty quickly as far as relationships go, but that was the first time someone put his hand over my nose and mouth until I nearly blacked out. The rest of the time it wasn’t so good, but that bit went rather…swimmingly.
5. Sebastian Moran, Buenos Aires. So there was this one time, with a chair…
6. Nick Kenning, New York. Nicky’s brand new posh flat back in 2005. Nicky’s brand new big bathtub. Three bottles of wine. He had to get a new sofa.
7. Some lad in uni. Mark? Merrick? Anyway, we were both flying back to Dublin for Christmas. I hadn’t thought of doing that in the loo on a plane. First time novelty points.
8. Sebastian Moran, London. His flat. His bed. Not his tie. Matt says thank you, Mr. Trevor.
9. Nick Kenning, New York. A Perfect Circle concert. Nicky says he can’t dance, but he kept that pounding rhythm pretty well, I’d say.
10. Sebastian Moran, London. My bed. My knife. You always remember the night you make someone truly yours.

mr-trevor:

Blue or green? 

He held the first shirt in front of him in the mirror, then the second. Then he met his own eyes and his eyebrow twitched slightly, though he efforted to compose himself. Gloria, however, seemed to be of similar mindset as him, because she sat in front of the mirror her eyes on Victor’s image and snorted. 

“Oh, hush. Presenting yourself is important, Gloria,” he informed the dog. “Even shirt choice makes a difference. Blue says relaxed confidence, but I may have to look weak in this situation, unsure. Green often represents a sort of conservatism. It’s all proven, your ladyship. I would tone down the attitude if I were you.” Her tail wagged. He snorted as well finally and tipped his head. “You’re right. Blue it is.”

Tossing the green shirt on the bed he slid the deep blue shirt on, then began to button up. Hair casual, loose, but groomed, of course. No flashy jewelry, other than his customary black-faced watch. Relaxed shoulders.

Some people might think such self-analysis was overkill for a simple dinner up at his neighbor’s, but they didn’t know Matt Parker. Then again…did anyone really know Matt Parker? That was what he was endeavoring to find out. 

“All in due time,” he murmured to himself. Victor could make no sudden moves. But he did have a few more tests in mind…namely, first, to see if the truth of Matt’s cooking profession would hold. Knowing Mr. Parker- or at least, knowing some of his game- it would…but a hand at cooking was a hard thing to fake, and Victor had learned to recognize it.

Now he had to pass these skills through Matt Parker. He’d be lying to say he wasn’t the least bit anticipating. For a brief moment, he felt a bit sorry for Sebastian. But who knew what hand he had in all this?

Telling Gloria to be good as he always did when he left, Victor shut the front door and headed up the flight of stairs between his and Sebastian’s flat. Once he arrived at the top he didn’t pause to take a breath- it was quite possible Matt had heard him coming up, and hesitating would make him seem nervous. So he knocked, and smiled when the door opened, raising a hand.

“Good evening. I hope I’m not too late?” He knew he wasn’t, but he said it anyway.

Jim smiled to himself in the kitchen. For a man who wasn’t a huge fan of eating, he knew when something was good. He was, surprisingly, a very good cook. His mum had taught him the basics, the foundations to start with, and then he’d been curious enough to learn more.

The issue was not cooking. The issue was staying focused and not getting bored during the cooking process. Or…not getting ravished by Sebastian while waiting for the timer to go off, then ignoring the timer and almost burning down half the kitchen. Things happened. Tonight he was definitely focused, because Matt Parker had to serve a phenomenal mango chicken to Victor Trevor. He tasted the sauce, smiling to himself. That was actually really good. It could simmer until the rice was ready…giving them a bit of time to eat. He knew Victor would be precisely on time; he’d watched his other outings, and the man was a stickler for punctuality. Not early, though, because, let’s be honest, that was actually more rude than being late.

He walked out of the kitchen; Sebastian was back in the bedroom, multitasking getting dressed after his shower and dealing with a client email. Not a difficult one; he figured he’d be out in a minute or two.

Jim walked into the bathroom one more time to look at himself in the mirror. Casual jeans worn at the hems, a tshirt that was a touch too baggy, Adidas trainers (shell toe…made Jim nostalgic), and a cardigan with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He nodded approvingly, smiling at himself (he also smiled back), then walked over to the iPod dock and pressed play.

“Seb,” he called, voice cheery, light, the Dublin accent sliding to the more musical lilt of Limerick. “Mr. Trevor’s going to be here any…” Wait for it. Knock at the door. “Oh, he’s here already!” Character intact, eyes bright with excitement, Matt Parker pulled open the front door.

“Not late at all! Come in!” He stood back to let Sebastian’s neighbour in, closing the door behind him. Jim was twice as excited as Matt was. Fuck the mango chicken; it was game time.

mr-trevor:

jiminwestwood replied to your photo: A picture message sent to me from Julie, one of…

Oh, she’s just soooooo adorable! -Matt

Ha, she’s something, for sure. She’s entirely aware there’s a picture being taken of her as well, or she wouldn’t be so good. I can only hope she’s not making much trouble for the people letting her stay with them. -Victor Trevor

You should have asked Seb or me to watch her, Mr. Trevor. It wouldn’t have been any trouble. I just love dogs, and Gloria’s such a darling. I hope you’re having a good trip? -Matt

In character, out of character…whichever, actually.

Thank you to everyone who follows me. Thank you for the support, the questions, putting up with my insanity and encouraging it! Every time I get an ask for Jim, I’m ecstatic. Everyone who asked about Truffle’s health after her surgery, you are amazing human beings.

When I started this blog, I was shocked when I had ten followers. I now have over 500, which seems astronomical to me. I don’t even know HOW to thank you!

But I thank you.

Jim thanks you. And blesses you.

Even Truffle thanks you, and that’s no mean feat, because she’s a self-centred little creature.

Huge thanks to my fab RP partners who let me fly my freak flag. As in, let me shower love on tigerjaw, nickkenning, askanthea, governmentsanctionedbrollies, isitignoranceorapathy, mr-trevor, and mummoriarty, as well as asksebthesniper, sebbiem, secondlovesfirst…and other people I’m sure I’m forgetting. Can’t stop, won’t stop loving on you.

(That was my original Jim_in_Westwood LJ icon, made for me by Nicky.)

Anyway, thanks, guys. Now back to your regularly scheduled insanity, humour, mayhem, sexy times, angst, explosions, and whatever else I’ve got cooking over here. XXX

tigerjaw:

jiminwestwood:

tigerjaw replied to your post: He’s pretty fantastic. His Captain says he’s got a great eye. I’m just worried.

boss you’re making me blush.

And you’re just absolutely darling with some colour in your cheeks. X JM

you’re in a mood boss.

Not at all. You read too much into things, Sebastian.