Down to the River

I have probably recced all these before, but what's wrong with re-reccing something this good?

the Gift of an Enemy by Sylvia. Strange body-jumping aliens enter into negotiations with Mulder, and leaves him with the gift of an enemy, that is, Krycek. Mulder is then sent out on a case-file, and Krycek has to follow. My second favorite X-Files story.

Blood, Love and Rhetoric by Sleeps with Coyotes. The angst, my sweet, the angst... Though it doesn't really hit you unless you've already read it, like. My guilty X-Files love.

Cadenza by Terma99. Mulder and Scully are shipped off to investigate strange doings around a violin virtuouso. Very well written, in a this author knows what they're writing about sort of way. Interesting original character, which is a good thing, considering he's the other part of the romantic pairing in this, and this is slash, so Mulder's the, uh, first part? *sighs* The story's a lot smarter than I am, honest.

Ghosts by Torch. Do I even need to say anything? Glorious. The number one.

Time and a World Away by jenn. And it's perhaps very telling that I've been wanting this kind of fic for ages. A fucked-up-ness worthy of Mulder and Krycek. Clark finds Lucas, they deal, Lex is hot on their trail.

When I was Born for the Seventh Time by Zahra. I need my Lex more fucked up than he is on the show. This delivers.

    Lex normally doesn't make lists.

    Sometimes there are exceptions.

    This particular list is written on the kitchen table in permanent marker.

    This isn't Lex's apartment.

A Bend in the Fence by Ingrid. ...'Cause, all right, sometimes sweetness does it for me as well. Tiny Lex and his mom visiting Smallville.

    "All right, smartie," she groused. She searched around, until spying a patch of wildflowers near the fence, blue and tiny. "Try these on for size," she challenged, pulling a bunch up from the loose soil.

    Lex examined them closely. "I don't even know what those are."

    Lillian laughed and hugged her son close, with an arm around his shoulders. "They're forget-me-nots. Myosotis arvensis."

    "Oh, those are weeds." Lex frowned. "Not fair."

    "Weeds? Why, they're not weeds. They're the flowers you give to someone you'll love eternally." Lillian shook off the last bits of clinging dirt and broke the stems off above the roots, before pressing the bunch into her son's hand. "No matter what."

harry potter
Dancing Queen by Maya. Just. Ha!

    There, leaning suddenly against Blaise’s shoulder, was Draco Malfoy, pristine blond hair a rumpled mess, eyes shining oddly, wearing skintight white jeans and a silver, clinging shirt which was still riding high on his stomach, showing an awful lot of pale flesh and the remnants of silver glitter.


    “Well, that’s torn it,” Blaise said crossly in the silence.

    Malfoy eventually seemed to get over his shock, and gave Harry a bright and extremely pleasant smile.

    Which was when Harry remembered that Malfoy had been swigging doctored drinks.

    “My, what a surprise,” he drawled, running a negligent hand through his hair. Harry noticed that his nails were painted silver. “What are you doing here?”

    “I’m straight and I’m here nonsexually with my cousin,” Harry said promptly.

    “Fancy,” said Malfoy, and his eyes were caught by something over Harry’s shoulder. Harry recognised the suddenly glazed look in them as the look of someone who had been blindsided by the pants.

    “And this is my cousin,” he said wearily, preparing for the Great Mockery.

    “Wow, Harry,” Dudley said in his ear. “You work fast, don’t you? What a pair. God, look at the blond!”

    Harry numbly accepted the Bacardi Breezer, wondering if he’d feel better if he was drunk.

    Dudley still had his eyes on the graceful line of Malfoy’s throat and – well, the graceful line of Malfoy’s everything, Harry supposed - and he said in awed tones, “Mmm, pretty,” which wasn’t something Harry had ever wanted to hear about Draco Malfoy’s anything.

    “Are you straight?” Malfoy inquired suddenly.

    “Yes,” Harry said in fear and with all the vehemence he could summon up.

    Malfoy beamed. “What a coincidence,” he said. “Me too.”

    “Oh God, not another one,” Dudley said.

    Blaise made an exasperated noise. “No you’re not, Draco.”

    “Am too,” Malfoy asserted.

    “Draco, you were just dancing onstage and being smeared with glitter as a drag queen licked your bellybutton!”

the world needs more fastlane fic. Subtle Hint.

Domestic by sa. What the title says.

    Van shuffled to the kitchen, scratching his stomach and opening his mouth wide for a yawn. He could smell the coffee brewing, and thanked god that they'd invested in a timed coffee maker. He poured himself a cup, leaning against the counter and inhaling the smell. Pure Columbian, another perk of their world.

    If he was very quiet, he could hear Deaq wrestling with the sheets. The guy hated getting up in the morning, like nothing else. Half the time he'd limp to the breakfast table, bitching and moaning about how it was too damn early, that only worms and paperboys got up at this hour. Van just humored him, let him talk it off until the smell of coffee finally hit and Deaq asked him casually if maybe Van could make some pancakes.

    This morning, though, Van poured a cup of coffee and grabbed a muffin before heading back to the bedroom. He found Deaq with a pillow over his head, giving a muffled moan. Something to do with "fucking sun," "fucking alarm" and "ooh, coffee." Deaq sat up, ignoring Van's amused look, and drank down the coffee vigorously, his gulps audible from across the room. Van grinned into the closet, where he was figuring out what to wear, murmuring to himself, "I never figured out how you can slurp down coffee that would burn off my tongue." He avoided Deaq's glare from the bed, sliding into the bathroom.

    A minute later he called back into the bedroom. "Did you clean the bathroom yesterday, man?"

    Deaq padded into the small room, moving his body behind Van's to align them. "Why? The tile shinier than usual?"

    Van smirked over his shoulder. "Nah. The toilet's fucking gorgeous, though."

    Deaq rolled his eyes, sliding a hand across Van's waist to pull him close. "Yeah, man, sure. I wasted my Sunday bringing out the Scrubbing Bubbles."

    Van shrugged. "Hey, your kink, not mine. I'm just saying--"

Various Versions by Am-Chau Yarkona. Hawkeye tries to write a letter to Trapper after having missed his departure by ten minutes. Four versions of the same letter, from stark honesty to what was mailed.

    It's been tough out here--hell, it still is--but you made it a little easier. You've been my best friend, and more. I know the `more' never came to much of anything beyond a few nights of drunken sex when neither of us had managed to pick up a nurse of the totally opposite gender (and that one time when we just wanted to shock Frank). I just thought you should know it did actually mean something--a lot--to me, even if you'd prefer to forget it.

    Oh, I know I say that to all of them--you've heard me often enough--but for once I actually mean it. Trapper, I've loved you over and above the call of friendship, and I'm sorry I never had the guts to tell you in person.

lotr rps
Shimmer and Flicker by various authors. Hooker Au. Weirdly appealing. Orlando teaches Dominic.

    Orli reaches into his pocket, fishes around for that last tab of E as he spins the yo-yo away again. Fuck, he sighs to himself, remembering that he already took the last tab. He wonders if Ewan is about, and looks up hopefully as if Ewan will appear magically just because Orli wants him.

    No Ewan, of course.

    But that kid is watching him again.

    Orli shifts, arches a little, stretches himself a little, doesn't look at the kid, spins the yo-yo.

    Dom watches from the opposite side of the street, wondering how the older boy manages to play with a bloody yo-yo and still radiate that come-fuck-me glow, even from where Dom stands. He's been watching the yo-yo (and its owner)'s progression for several months now, on and off, and more intensely in the last weeks, and almost non-stop in the last three days. Dom smoothes both hands down the front of his shirt, looking down at himself.

    He should've dressed differently than he usually does, he thinks angrily, chiding himself. Looking over at the boy across the street, in his loose but ass-hugging jeans and tissue-thin white tee, Dom's pretty sure he won't make that great an impression in baggy pants and his ratty tank top. He tugs at the beaded necklaces around his neck, plays with the rings on his fingers. The look is all wrong, he's sure of it. But he thinks maybe the boy with the yo-yo - gorgeous, sex on legs, looking every bit the part - will show him.

    Dom exhales shakily and throws a last look over his shoulder, at the safe, familiar side of the street. Then he steps onto the wet pavement and crosses. The sound of plastic hitting flesh intermittently grows louder as he approaches the whore. Whore? Rentboy? He's not sure.

jane austen
Scandalous by Linda Marie. Mr. Dracy and Mr. Bingley converse. Too short for me to quote.

due south
identikit by M. Fae Glasgow. Sex and heart break all into one. Fraser goes to Kowalski to be seen. Online-readable pdf file. and in Outage by the same author Fraser and Kowalski get to go undercover as a gay couple. Amusing, if not exactly ground breaking.