sli

I did Yuletide again this year, despite having fallen off the face of the internet. And it was splendid, as it tends to be.

The stories I received? AMAZING. And FUN.

Observe and Detect, by Shrift. Castle, Esposito/Ryan.

Office Chairs, by My_Young_Friend. Castle, Esposito/Ryan. (Yuletide Madness)

I wrote Preoccupation, for Lorelei. Nero Wolfe - Rex Stout, Goodwin/Wolfe. I have some issues (creeping suspicion of having committed subconscious line-theft from favorite ficwriter, wry amusement at own inability to finish before last possible goddamn minute, etc.), but am quite pleased at having written something. Thank you, Yuletide and, especially, Yuletiders, for all the goodness.

This morning I am going for a walk on the beach. Better: my emotional state lately (not my perkiest; moody, introspective), the weather (light fog, mysterious, quiet, lovely), and my fucking wardrobe (new perfect comfortable sweater that feels like I've had it for years except for lack of pilling and stains and dog hair, thrashed jeans I can roll up to keep clear of sand and water, black boots with a strap for easy carrying) are all perfectly suited. I am fully coordinated, inside and out.

In 2009 I wrote these stories:

Ray/Ray smut for meresy's porn tag.

We have nothing to touch this engine (My Life as a Dog, Johnny/Louis, porny) for midsummer2009.

And my first ever Yuletide contribution, Slow Ship Turning (Fast & Furious, Dom/Brian, porny).

Yuletide was a blast (seriously, have you SEEN the fics I got? And all the others?), though a pointed reminder (AGAIN) that I'll only be a decent writer on the day somebody stands over me with a loaded shotgun and glowers until the words come out. Failing that, I did the predictable up to the deadline barely finishing, five minutes for beta, wasn't there going to be another scene there, fuck it, oh my god I'm late for work routine I do so well. Le sigh. Still! I made a story! P.S. zabira wins all the roses forever for the capslocky encouragement and support and speed read (eta: also because she postponed rereading certain F&F fics in solidarity with me until the fic was submitted. THERE IS NO GREATER SACRIFICE).

So I'm sitting here reading a newspaper, one printed on paper like in the good old days. I wonder what time it is, so I check the upper right corner of the screen paper.

There is no clock at the upper right corner. Because a newspaper is not a laptop! (Note to print media: look into clocks on the page. Could turn things around in a big way.)

Guys! Last night I had dinner and hours of fantastic rambling fannish conversation with exeterlinden, and it was awesome and yet more reason for the immediate invention of the Fannish Teleportation Device. Because she lives so very far awaaaaaay, and while I'm sure Denmark is lovely and she has some attachment to it, I find that distance extremely displeasing. (Which is to say, if you ever get the chance to hang out with her, grab it like whoa and bring me along.)

So, yesterday, a quiet moment at the shop was interrupted by far-off screaming.

"Oh!" Said I. "I was sure, for a moment, that this was it. It's finally happened. Zombies."

Co-worker E nodded. "It was even worse when it really was zombies."

I nodded back.

"Because my dog is totally terrified of people, but zombies were even worse."

I think, a) I like Seattle, zombies and all; b) I like co-worker E; and c) I like dog people and their priorities.

Despite my writing not being very writingly of late, I took the plunge and sent in my sign-up form for midsummer2009. Because! Midsummer is candy. Midsummer is C6D flexing its sweet, strange little muscles and getting some Canadians laid who SERIOUSLY need to get laid. And half the time you're writing in a quiet, rarely explored corner of C6D, so whether you write a magnificent epic or a wee character study or some hot, dirty porn, it is rare and delightful and JUST what somebody has been wanting. So that is very good, I think, and I support it.

And while it's fresh in my mind and way before the assignments are sent out and, hey! There's still time for some of you to sign up and maybe write this for me, because you are lovely, talented people, here's a premature Dear Midsummer Santa letter:

( Dear Midsummer writer )

Audiofic links can be found at Jinjurly's Audiofic Page.

Fast & Furious fic

Slow Ship Turning, Dom/Brian, porny.

due South short fic:

Less than 100 words, in which 8 or so things are broken, F/K, PG
Ray/Ray kissing for Mergatrude, Ray/Ray, PG-13
Purgatory, Fraser/Victoria, G
Wound up, F/K, R
County Fair, F/K, G
Impulse, Ray/Ray, PG-13
Uggded, F/K, G
Lessons in Modern Cinema: Introduction, a prequel to "Ray and Sunshine sounds like a disco band, Fraser, so come up with something else" and "Sex and Cartoons", both co-written by omphale23. F/K, baby!fic, G
Addiction, F/K-ish, PG
Laundry, F/K, G
Heat, Ray/Ray, PG (fragment)
Persistence, F/K, R
When the stakes don't matter, Fraser/Lady Shoes, G
Pretrial Services, F/K, R
93 words for nos4a2no9, F/K, G
Lieutenant Kinky, gen, G
Sweet tooth, F/K, G
A perfect arrangement, Frannie/Stella, R

6 degrees short fic:

Sucky-sucky, Palmberg/nos4a2no9, Slap Shot 2/RPF.
Three FTWHTWD drabbles, For Those Who Hunt the Wounded Down, PG
Lucky, Twitch City, R
Kept Man, HCL, Joe/Billy, PG-13
Adjusting, Double Happiness, Jade/Mark, PG
Focus, Wilby Wonderful, Duck/Dan, PG-13
Restrained: Joe and Restrained: Billy, HCL, Joe/Billy, PG-13
Character, RPS, Callum/Hugh, PG-13
Pissed, HCL gen, PG-13
Capture, HCL, Joe/Billy, PG-13

due South fic:

Untitled Ray/Ray smut, Ray/Ray, NC-17. Kowalski's hands are sliding over him, sliding off of him

Echo, F/K, R.
"After Margie noticed the irregularities in the paperwork, she discovered that a number of antiquities were on permanent loan to unverified institutions of dubious authenticity, which, naturally, concerned her greatly"

Castaway, Ray/Ray, R.
The water was turquoise blue and sparkling as far as Ray's fucked up, no-glasses-having eyes could see.

I can only, F/V as girls, R.
Fraser looks over Detective Vecchio's desk carefully, cataloging what she sees for anything that might be of use in understanding the detective.

Boom, Ray/Ray, porny.
"You've never seen anything like it," Kowalski slurs.

Five ways Ray and Ray redefined romance, Ray/Ray, PG-13.
The thing was, when Ray got back from finding the hand of Franklin (which was disgusting and shriveled and missing a couple of fingers), he was partnered with this guy Morricone, a lazy bastard who hummed all the time.

Decalcification, F/K, NC-17.
After the third long day working with the visiting members of the Audit Committee--who were not interested in discussing new strategies to improve efficiency and flexibility, and who seemed to suspect him of using RCMP funds to support a day spa habit--the brisk walk home isn't nearly enough to release his store of frustrated energy.

Five ways Ray Vecchio was disconcerted by Ray Kowalski, Ray/Ray, R.
It wasn't like Vecchio had never seen a pretty guy before

Decorating with Antlers is Never a Good Idea, F/K, NC-17.
Forty minutes into their semi-regular late evening walk, Dief veered across the street and headed down a street not on their usual route.

Whatever I want, F/K, R.
Fraser's tongue is in Ray's mouth and Fraser's hands are on his ass and he's humping Fraser's leg and those muffled sounds he's making are him trying to say "Hey, cut it out!"

Countdown, Stella/RayK, NC-17.
Five times Ray danced with Stella.

Practicalities, R, F/K, ~1600 words.
When Ray goes out looking for it, he finds it.

Conflict Resolution Strategies, F/K, PG. Written for the ds_flashfiction First Line Festival.
Fraser took a deep breath as Ray came into the room. Then he choked and covered his nose with his hand. "Ray, I don't wish to be rude, but what is--?"

I never discuss love on an empty stomach, F/K, NC-17.
Later, Fraser had to admire the skill with which he'd been manipulated.

Commentfic, F/K, G.
Ray knew about the file at the 2-7, the one where Welsh kept Fraser's self-written official reprimands.

Cassiopeia, Fraser/Fraser's hand, Fraser(/Victoria), R.
It was never truly quiet in the Consulate.

Remedial Studies, F/K, NC-17.
Ray was on his back, his knees bent and thighs spread wide, his cock poking him in the stomach and a butt plug up his ass.

Tangled, F/K pre-slash, G.
After cooling his heels for a good thirty, thirty-five seconds on the Consulate steps, Ray glanced around and let himself in.

Cognitive Dissonance, F/K, NC-17.
"Off! Off! Off!" Ray twisted away, slapping at Fraser's hands, trying to stay behind the shipping crate and out of the line of fire.

Ray is not a morning person, F/K, NC-17.
Ray wasn't really asleep, but he wasn't getting out of bed, no how, no way.

Ray and his thinking/feeling/wanting cock, F/K, R.
Ray's horny again.

A bath kind of guy, F/K, PG-13.
Fraser liked baths.

Decorum, F/K, NC-17.
Ray might have had a weird sort of feeling that something was wrong with Fraser, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it and mostly didn't think about it.

Mixing, F/K, R.
Ray thunked his head down on the messy desktop. Rolling to the side so he could meet Fraser's level gaze, he said, apropos of not much at all, "I swear, when I was married chicks hit on me all the time. Now, I'd give my left nut for a nice, ordinary date and I get nothing."

Give Me Something, F/K, NC-17.
Ray was vibrating, anger and frustration like physical pain under his skin.

Give Me Something, part 2, F/K, NC-17

Now I've just come ashore, F/K, NC-17.
Ray was sleeping, really deeply into it, when Fraser came home.

The Ray Buffet, F/K, NC-17, with stray scene here.
“So, Frase. I guess you've done that before, huh?" Ray asked quietly, one hand under his head while the other traced patterns on Fraser's damp chest.

Special Fucking Friends, R, Fraser/Hugh Dillon, CKR/Hugh Dillon implied.
“You gorgeous cunt, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

Mr. Godkingofsex, NC-17, F/K.
“Hey, you ever put your whole hand up there?”

6 degrees fic:

We have nothing to touch this engine, My Life as a Dog, Louis/Johnny, porny. Louis kisses Johnny maybe three minutes after stepping through the door to the caboose.

Possible, Wilby Wonderful, Duck/Dan, R.
Duck didn't know if it was early conditioning or bad luck or the same sickness that drove him to drink, but he'd always gravitated towards bruisers, men who'd shove him no matter how hard he shoved back.

Evening Snow Will Bring Such Peace, For Those Who Hunt the Wounded Down, PG.
Jerry is in the woods a long time.

Same old, same old, HCL, Joe/Billy, NC-17.
Joe wore lipstick on stage.

Special Fucking Friends, R, Fraser/Hugh Dillon, CKR/Hugh Dillon implied.
“You gorgeous cunt, what the fuck are you doing here?!”

Fic I wrote with omphale23:

Things That Go Bump in the Night, coauthor omphale23, F/K, Dief, PG. Written for the ds_flashfiction First Line Festival challenge.
It was the giggling that woke him. He stretched, sorting out the sounds and scents as he came awake. Consulate, nighttime, and--mmmm--he had possession of the cot.

Calisthenics, coauthor omphale23, F/K, R. Maybe NC-17.
He hates running. Not just because it means getting up early and muscles burning and not enough oxygen. He hates it because of Fraser's ass.

Masquerade, coauthor omphale23, F/K, NC-17 (long). The Charade AU.

Twitch, coauthor omphale23, F/K, NC-17.
Ray's got three and a half hours left in his shift. He's going a little stir-crazy.

Ray and Sunshine sounds like a disco band, Fraser, so come up with something else, coauthor omphale23, F/K, part one is PG, porny coda is NC-17.
Ben arrives home early and throws Dief a warning glance as he hangs up his coat.

Sex and Cartoons, coauthor omphale23, F/K, NC-17, sequel to "Ray and Sunshine..."
Ray's learned to appreciate Fraser's efforts at proper preparation.

Fic I wrote with lipstickcat:

The One Where Turnbull Gets Knocked Up, coauthor lipstickcat, Kowalski/Turnbull, PG to NC-17, series. MPREG!