akamine_chan (
akamine_chan) wrote in
ds_recsredux2008-01-08 11:34 pm
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About A Girl; Guns Don't Kill People; Eight Days A Week
Many thanks are owed to
sprat for being the Goddess of Seekrit Santaness.
Title: About A Girl
Author:
simplystars
Pairing: Thatcher
Rating: G
Length: ~2500
Why I'm reccing this fic: Because Meg Thatcher had such potential to be a lovely, complex, textured character in the series but wasn't and this story gives us a glimpse of what she could have been.
I remember, when I had originally watched the series, how badly I wanted Meg to be more. And I was terribly disappointed that the writers wouldn't let her be more. She was beautiful, intelligent, accomplished, and polished. And she was portrayed as a shallow, flighty, bitchy shrew; an "Ice Queen" and "Dragon Lady."
"About A Girl" lets Meg Thatcher live up to her full potential as a character.
simplystars deftly weaves a back story for Meg that fits so well it feels like canon. We see Meg's interactions with her father, with Fraser, with Dief and with Ray Kowalski and it's refreshing to view these characters through her eyes.
Frowning at the budget reports in one hand, Meg pulls out her desk chair, wheels squeaking over the hard plastic mat underneath. A theatrical groan gives her pause; she tosses the sheaf of papers onto the desk and crouches down, eyeing the wolf tucked into the space at her feet.
Constable Fraser's wolf moans, inching onto his back to expose his belly. One cocked ear swivels in her direction as he peeks at her sidelong.
"I have work to do," Meg says gravely. The wolf blinks once, muttering mournfully.
Meg straightens up, hands fisted on her hips. Constable Fraser might be hoodwinked by his clever canine, tricked into believing the wolf feels under the weather - but Meg isn't fooled. The distended belly is most likely due to overindulgence; given his past history, and the trace evidence of orange powder dusting the wolf's lips and chin, Meg suspects that one of Detective Vecchio's notorious poker games is to blame.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," she tells Diefenbaker, who whimpers pathetically.
Link to the story: About A Girl
Title: Guns Don't Kill People
Author:
qe2
Pairing: Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Rating: NC17
Length: ~6000
Warnings: BDSM, not-so-happy
Why I'm reccing this fic: This is a very difficult story to read.
This is not a story about Fraser and Ray sledding off into the sunset to live happily-ever-after in the wild places of Canada. This is the story of two all-too human men and their emotional complexities. This is the story of Ray, who doesn't always have the right words, who doesn't know how to protect Fraser from himself. This is the story of Fraser, who hides so much of himself behind his Mountie persona and the red uniform.
This story is about the imperfect relationship that they have and how they struggle to preserve it. It's about their love and partnership. It's about knowing each other and trust, about control and anger. This is real.
Queue does a wonderful job tackling an extremely sensitive subject with realism and compassion. She brings Ray alive with a smart, savvy voice that is much wiser than we usually give him credit for. She breaks Fraser apart, but gives us the hope that maybe, just maybe, Ray can help put him back together again.
When I get there, I stand in front of him, knees bumping his, until he finally looks up at me. I lay my hands against his face, blue and red and green in the lights from the tree and so, so tired and scared, and I hold his eyes with mine for a long time, both of us still and silent and focused on the other. I try--it's so stupid, but I have to try--to put how I feel about him and about what he's told me in my face for him to maybe somehow see. Because I can't think of anything to say out loud that won't sound desperate, and he's desperate enough as it is.
Link to the story: Guns Don't Kill People
Title: Eight Days A Week
Author:
bluebrocade
Pairing: Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Rating: R
Length: ~4000
Why I'm reccing this fic: This story is a combination of humor and angst, perfectly balanced without tipping over into excessiveness.
bluebrocade intertwines the humor and angst with a light touch. It made me laugh and it made me ache.
bluebrocade has a wonderful sense of Fraser and all of his insecurities and quirks. The way Fraser and Dief interact is just like two siblings fighting and teasing and picking on each other. Ray wanders cluelessly through the story, unaware of all the wrong conclusions that Fraser is jumping to but baffled by Fraser's strange behavior.
This story was so enjoyable and well written. The plot flows naturally and at the end you feel satisfied with the conclusion. This is one of those stories that you read and say, "I wish I had written that."
And of course, Dief gets the last word.
"No. It's not possible. I didn't...I couldn't have missed...it can't be true. It just...no." He shook his head. "No," he repeated. "No." Something cold and dark took residence in his chest, another shard of disappointment and failure slotting into place next to all the others.
Link to the story: Eight Days A Week
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Title: About A Girl
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Thatcher
Rating: G
Length: ~2500
Why I'm reccing this fic: Because Meg Thatcher had such potential to be a lovely, complex, textured character in the series but wasn't and this story gives us a glimpse of what she could have been.
I remember, when I had originally watched the series, how badly I wanted Meg to be more. And I was terribly disappointed that the writers wouldn't let her be more. She was beautiful, intelligent, accomplished, and polished. And she was portrayed as a shallow, flighty, bitchy shrew; an "Ice Queen" and "Dragon Lady."
"About A Girl" lets Meg Thatcher live up to her full potential as a character.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Frowning at the budget reports in one hand, Meg pulls out her desk chair, wheels squeaking over the hard plastic mat underneath. A theatrical groan gives her pause; she tosses the sheaf of papers onto the desk and crouches down, eyeing the wolf tucked into the space at her feet.
Constable Fraser's wolf moans, inching onto his back to expose his belly. One cocked ear swivels in her direction as he peeks at her sidelong.
"I have work to do," Meg says gravely. The wolf blinks once, muttering mournfully.
Meg straightens up, hands fisted on her hips. Constable Fraser might be hoodwinked by his clever canine, tricked into believing the wolf feels under the weather - but Meg isn't fooled. The distended belly is most likely due to overindulgence; given his past history, and the trace evidence of orange powder dusting the wolf's lips and chin, Meg suspects that one of Detective Vecchio's notorious poker games is to blame.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," she tells Diefenbaker, who whimpers pathetically.
Link to the story: About A Girl
Title: Guns Don't Kill People
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Rating: NC17
Length: ~6000
Warnings: BDSM, not-so-happy
Why I'm reccing this fic: This is a very difficult story to read.
This is not a story about Fraser and Ray sledding off into the sunset to live happily-ever-after in the wild places of Canada. This is the story of two all-too human men and their emotional complexities. This is the story of Ray, who doesn't always have the right words, who doesn't know how to protect Fraser from himself. This is the story of Fraser, who hides so much of himself behind his Mountie persona and the red uniform.
This story is about the imperfect relationship that they have and how they struggle to preserve it. It's about their love and partnership. It's about knowing each other and trust, about control and anger. This is real.
Queue does a wonderful job tackling an extremely sensitive subject with realism and compassion. She brings Ray alive with a smart, savvy voice that is much wiser than we usually give him credit for. She breaks Fraser apart, but gives us the hope that maybe, just maybe, Ray can help put him back together again.
When I get there, I stand in front of him, knees bumping his, until he finally looks up at me. I lay my hands against his face, blue and red and green in the lights from the tree and so, so tired and scared, and I hold his eyes with mine for a long time, both of us still and silent and focused on the other. I try--it's so stupid, but I have to try--to put how I feel about him and about what he's told me in my face for him to maybe somehow see. Because I can't think of anything to say out loud that won't sound desperate, and he's desperate enough as it is.
Link to the story: Guns Don't Kill People
Title: Eight Days A Week
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Rating: R
Length: ~4000
Why I'm reccing this fic: This story is a combination of humor and angst, perfectly balanced without tipping over into excessiveness.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
This story was so enjoyable and well written. The plot flows naturally and at the end you feel satisfied with the conclusion. This is one of those stories that you read and say, "I wish I had written that."
And of course, Dief gets the last word.
"No. It's not possible. I didn't...I couldn't have missed...it can't be true. It just...no." He shook his head. "No," he repeated. "No." Something cold and dark took residence in his chest, another shard of disappointment and failure slotting into place next to all the others.
Link to the story: Eight Days A Week
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Oh, good. I was worried that I was babbling excessively...and then I was wondering if I was doing it wrong somehow...
Picking just three was really, really hard, 'cause there are so many great stories at the archive...
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