actual yuletide recs!
It happens every year - I hold off posting about my love for my Yuletide Gift until I can get a proper recs list together, and then I fail at getting a proper recs list together. And now it is 2011!
I reckon I'm going to request songfics every yuletide from now on, because what with this and last year's Beatles-themed gift, I am blown away. The gift I was lucky enough to receive this(/last) year is a retelling of All Along The Watchtower, and it is, to put it bluntly, a fucking masterpiece.
In a jingle-jangle morning, by emei. In the hours before dawn, a joker and a thief meet on top of a tower. 1000 words.
After the banquet, the Joker slips into the shadows and disappears behind the draperies, quietly climbing the winding stairs of the tower. The thief is already on the balcony when she steps out, sitting nonchalantly on the balustrade, one foot tapping a waltz against the floor.
Go read!
Being Human
Tea and Telly. Annie, George and Mitchell watch Titanic and are generally amusing and gorgeous. No spoilers, 2000 words.
George ran a hand through his hair in that agitated way of his and shook a finger at her. “And why, why, why do you carry around those cups of tea when you can’t drink them? It’s just sad.”
“Well, what about you?” she asked. “First day off in two weeks, and you’re going to spend it at home watching telly? I mean, which one of us is dead here?”
Jane Austen's Fight Club
A Whole New Way. This fandom requires no further initiation than to read the title and optionally watch this youtube video. Hilarity!
"You know I found Mr Bingley a very handsome and agreeable man when I first met him, and I am now assured he thought of me likewise," Jane would later tell her sister in a letter. "But I am now certain that he would never have had the courage to come forward had I not punched him in the face. How positively wonderful love is, sweet Lizzie."
Hebrew Bible
Darkness on the Deep. Every year I fall in love with an Old Testament fic, and every year it turns out to have been written by fresne, who is amazing. This is the story of Creation, Lilith, and Eden. 1000 words.
Crack. Boom. Expand. Heaven. Earth. And God said, “Cool.”
Spooks
Notes on an Exile. For three months in 1998, Colin is sent to work at the Manchester office. Malcolm sends him tea. You guys, this is the Spooks fic I started needing about six years ago. I don't even know how to describe the perfect way it details Colin and Malcolm's relationship, but now that it's post-reveal, all I have to do is tell you it's written by delgaserasca and you'll understand.
Before he leaves, Colin debates over whether or not to write a note. On the one hand, Malcolm knows he’s going, why, and for how long. On the other hand, Malcolm’s been avoiding him since Tuesday. To note, or not to note, that is the question.
Tough Guide To Fantasyland, Diana Wynne Jones
Seeking Dragons. I haven't even read this book, but when I beta-ed this for lost_spook I was giggling the whole way through. The title is self-explanatory really - this is an original fic conforming to Fantasy Cliches.
Want to Meet a Dragon? Suffering the Awe-full Handicapp of being Male? Why waste weeks, months or Years struggling to find your Way through Dark Caverns to the Hidden Valley, or Growing Old Awaiting the Final Confrontation? See Jaxon Hyle for the perfect, paineless Solution!
Calvin & Hobbes
This kid I once knew. This isn't the Calvin & Hobbes fic that's being recced to high heaven (I haven't even read that one yet), but it's nevertheless a wonderful read. 1800 words.
It's a few weeks later when Daniel sends their whole improv group an e-mail saying "check this out its fun1!1" and a link to a web comic called The Adventures of Spaceman Spiff. Susan reads the panels and grins; it's a strip about a kid imagining he's a valiant astronaut, encountering a vat of slime that turns out in the last panel to be his mom's cooking. His facial expressions are pretty hilarious. Susan clicks back through a couple of previous strips and laughs out loud at Spaceman Spiff's adventures on foreign planets that turn into bathtubs and swingsets and the bathrooms at elementary school. Then she glances at the artist's name scribbled in the corner of the bottom panel: C. Hobbes. And maybe it's because Calvin was already on her mind because of the daemon conversation, but she gets it right away and says, "No fucking way!"
I reckon I'm going to request songfics every yuletide from now on, because what with this and last year's Beatles-themed gift, I am blown away. The gift I was lucky enough to receive this(/last) year is a retelling of All Along The Watchtower, and it is, to put it bluntly, a fucking masterpiece.
In a jingle-jangle morning, by emei. In the hours before dawn, a joker and a thief meet on top of a tower. 1000 words.
After the banquet, the Joker slips into the shadows and disappears behind the draperies, quietly climbing the winding stairs of the tower. The thief is already on the balcony when she steps out, sitting nonchalantly on the balustrade, one foot tapping a waltz against the floor.
Go read!
Being Human
Tea and Telly. Annie, George and Mitchell watch Titanic and are generally amusing and gorgeous. No spoilers, 2000 words.
George ran a hand through his hair in that agitated way of his and shook a finger at her. “And why, why, why do you carry around those cups of tea when you can’t drink them? It’s just sad.”
“Well, what about you?” she asked. “First day off in two weeks, and you’re going to spend it at home watching telly? I mean, which one of us is dead here?”
Jane Austen's Fight Club
A Whole New Way. This fandom requires no further initiation than to read the title and optionally watch this youtube video. Hilarity!
"You know I found Mr Bingley a very handsome and agreeable man when I first met him, and I am now assured he thought of me likewise," Jane would later tell her sister in a letter. "But I am now certain that he would never have had the courage to come forward had I not punched him in the face. How positively wonderful love is, sweet Lizzie."
Hebrew Bible
Darkness on the Deep. Every year I fall in love with an Old Testament fic, and every year it turns out to have been written by fresne, who is amazing. This is the story of Creation, Lilith, and Eden. 1000 words.
Crack. Boom. Expand. Heaven. Earth. And God said, “Cool.”
Spooks
Notes on an Exile. For three months in 1998, Colin is sent to work at the Manchester office. Malcolm sends him tea. You guys, this is the Spooks fic I started needing about six years ago. I don't even know how to describe the perfect way it details Colin and Malcolm's relationship, but now that it's post-reveal, all I have to do is tell you it's written by delgaserasca and you'll understand.
Before he leaves, Colin debates over whether or not to write a note. On the one hand, Malcolm knows he’s going, why, and for how long. On the other hand, Malcolm’s been avoiding him since Tuesday. To note, or not to note, that is the question.
Tough Guide To Fantasyland, Diana Wynne Jones
Seeking Dragons. I haven't even read this book, but when I beta-ed this for lost_spook I was giggling the whole way through. The title is self-explanatory really - this is an original fic conforming to Fantasy Cliches.
Want to Meet a Dragon? Suffering the Awe-full Handicapp of being Male? Why waste weeks, months or Years struggling to find your Way through Dark Caverns to the Hidden Valley, or Growing Old Awaiting the Final Confrontation? See Jaxon Hyle for the perfect, paineless Solution!
Calvin & Hobbes
This kid I once knew. This isn't the Calvin & Hobbes fic that's being recced to high heaven (I haven't even read that one yet), but it's nevertheless a wonderful read. 1800 words.
It's a few weeks later when Daniel sends their whole improv group an e-mail saying "check this out its fun1!1" and a link to a web comic called The Adventures of Spaceman Spiff. Susan reads the panels and grins; it's a strip about a kid imagining he's a valiant astronaut, encountering a vat of slime that turns out in the last panel to be his mom's cooking. His facial expressions are pretty hilarious. Susan clicks back through a couple of previous strips and laughs out loud at Spaceman Spiff's adventures on foreign planets that turn into bathtubs and swingsets and the bathrooms at elementary school. Then she glances at the artist's name scribbled in the corner of the bottom panel: C. Hobbes. And maybe it's because Calvin was already on her mind because of the daemon conversation, but she gets it right away and says, "No fucking way!"