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jamjar: Happy Hogswatch! (Seasonal:Hogswatch)
Correspondence (6062 words) by jamjar
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Doctrine of Labyrinths - Sarah Monette
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Felix Harrowgate, Mildmay Foxe
Additional Tags: epistolery, Post-Canon

In conclusion, Grimglass (and the associated town of Grimglass Without) may be worth a visit, but only a brief one. The chief concern of the locals is the weather and the price of fish, not necessarily in that order.

jamjar: Happy Hogswatch! (Seasonal:Hogswatch)
Homo homini lupus (6097 words) by jamjar
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Pet Shop of Horrors
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: Rau Woo-Fei, Count D

"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul - hope you like what you see."
~ Aldo Leopold

jamjar: (Art crane)
Fandom: Warai no Daigaku aka University of Laughs
Written for: Keiko Kirin in the Yuletide 2007 Challenge and originally posted here.
This was actually a prompt I was really happy to get since I love the movie so much, while being kind of terrified at trying to write it because, well, I love the movie so much.

And yes, it has taken me three months to get around to posting it to my lj. I'm just that efficient!

Gen, the way the movie was.
Thanks to [ profile] snowballjane for beta reading and [ profile] caithion and [ profile] megolas for handholding.

Composite )
jamjar: (Quarentine)
Title: Participant-Observer
Fandom: DCU
Notes/warnings: Written, somewhat belated, for the lady who loves Clark/Tim.
But where has the porn gone? I asked [ profile] brown_betty for help coming up with a thinly veiled excuse plot for Clark/Tim, and she said, "Rentboy!" And I said, "Rentboy!Clark, but undercover!" and then I wrote it, and I'm very sorry, [ profile] thete1, I don't know how it happened and I tried and tried but dammit, it still turned out gen. So I guess I should put a warning for a gen plot, with undercover-rentboy!Clark and porn as a plot-device.

participant-observer )
jamjar: (jedi stuff)
Title: Stray
Notes: Gen, Supernatural/DCU, no real warnings for content. Thanks [ profile] ficbyzee for audiencing and giving it the okay.
Originally posted over here for [ profile] monkeycrackmary.

Stray. )
jamjar: (Cass is so very *much*)
Title: Gap Year
Notes: Gen, written for the fabulous [ profile] ficbyzee for her birthday, with the equally fabulous [ profile] petronelle and [ profile] brown_betty providing love, support and improvements. Cass is travelling.
No real warnings.
Comments and criticisms aways appreciated.

Gap Year )
jamjar: (swingin' teabags)
So, the wonderfully intelligient Brainiac 5 fic I received was by [ profile] sparcck, and the fic I wrote was Obfuscation for [ profile] derryderrydown. Thanks to everyone that listened to my cries of "I don't know what I'm doing!" and extra thanks to [ profile] petronelle, [ profile] girl_starfish and [ profile] brown_betty for beta-reading, hand-holding and general goodness.

Title: Obfuscation
Fandom: DCU, Flash
Notes: Originally written for the 2006 Comica Obscura challenge. Featuring Linda Park. Gen.

She wakes up and opens her eyes. )
jamjar: (Default)
Title: Shogatsu
Fandom: Here is Greenwood
Previously posted in the Yuletide archive for the obscure fandoms secret santa
Written for Calliope for the Yuletide 2005 Challenge
Gen, with canon het references.

His brother was small, round and loud. )
jamjar: (five buck dick)
Dick throws himself forward through the air, travelling through with more grace and direction than most flyers manage. His hands catch the top of the flag pole of lightening rod or whatever it is, and he swings around, pulling himself in and sliding down it.

He leans on it, looks and Roy and smirks. He's breathing heavily, but Roy knows it has more to do with how much he enjoyed that little demonstration than actual exertion.

Roy leans on to his bow. “I feel like I should be tucking money in to your G-string,” he says.

Dick blinks and looks confused for a second. “My-- what?”

Roy shakes his head. “Never mind."

Dick's always had that combination of control and carelessness about his body, a result of working it, training it and knowing it absolutely, to the point where he can be thoughtless with it.

Dick looks at him, then back at the pole. Hesitates for a moment like he's debating rolling his eyes, then grins at Roy. "Pole dancing can be a serious gymnastic sport, you know. Takes muscle endurance and coordination."

"Muscle endurance and coordination. Those are always the first thing I think of, when I see pole-dancers." Roy thinks about Gina and Isis and Gypsy. "Actually, that might be--"

He stops talking, because Dick has grabbed hold of the pole, pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around, and is leaning backwards, holding on with his legs, back arching until he's touching the ground with his hands. He pulls himself up, swings his whole body around the pole to build up momentum, then hooks one leg around the pole, spinning around it before grabbing his ankle with one hand and leaning back. His back arches and he hold the position for a moment before adjusting his position, gripping on to the pole with both hands and unfolding his legs, spreading them out and holding perfectly steady.

He flips upright, slides and spins down in to a smooth dismount.

Roy's throat is dry. He swallows a few times before he can speak. "Batman really got you the best trainers in everything, huh?"

Dick shrugs. He gives a half-smile, deliberately playful. "I don't suppose you'd believe it's all natural talent?"
jamjar: (christmas!)
The Death of Rats pushed the parcel forward, tentatively. "Thank you," Susan said, making no move to touch it.

It squeaked at her and gestured with its scythe.

Susan had a very serviceable voice, a pleasant if unspectacular alto, and excellent rhythm. She could keep time and always, always knew the words, and had a good ear for wrong notes. Furthermore, she had a great deal of experience controlling small children.

This all explained why she loathed being called upon to take part in the annual Hogswatch carol service at the university. As big as the University choir was -and it encompassed several generations of wizards- the choir lacked any natural choirmaster, and had very few sopranos, with the exception of some of the younger students and the Bursar's rather good falsetto. Susan was called upon to fill in the gaps.

"And in the winter, comes the sno-ow..." she sang, bracing herself for the answering bass.

"Ook oook, ook oook."

"So all the children wrap up wa-arm,"

"Ook ook ook ook oook." The Librarian's voice rang out over the other wizards. Although the carol, "Little Children In The Snow (See how Blue Their Fingers Go!)" did not have a solo part, the Librarian clearly felt otherwise and had made his opinion very well known.

"No. It's bad enough that you get the words wrong," she told the Librarian. "And yes, I can tell, especially when it doesn't even scan. The rhythm is all wrong."


Susan folded her arms and glared at him. "I don't care if apes have natural rhythm. Look this just isn't working. Maybe if we--"


Susan turned around to where the Death of Rats stood, holding a score hopefully. She frowned. The Death of Rats shuffled its feet in a disturbingly bashful way. Susan crossed her arms sceptically. "All right, let's hear it."

It coughed into its bony paw once, unrolled the song and began. "SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEA-EAK..."

Susan gave a reluctant sigh and waved it into the choir stands. The Death of Rats had a surprisingly good soprano.
jamjar: (kit&puppies)
Fic: Lessons learnt along the way
Fandom: Naruto
Notes: No real spoilers. Takes place while Naruto is off training with Jiraiya for three years. Gen, but some adult content mentioned. No real warnings for sex or violence.
Thanks to [ profile] askerian for audiencing.

This is what Jiraiya learns in Hachida. )
jamjar: (buddha)
"Are you looking for Johnny?" Wobbler said without looking up from his playstation portable when the elf sat next to him on the park bench.

The elf- yep, definitely an elf, pointy ears and a bow and an air of ethereal... etherealness, looked at him.

"I do not know this "Johnny" of which you speak," It said. "I am merely searching for my pathway home." The elf looked at Wobbler, body motionless while his thumbs moved frantically over the buttons. Although it gave off an air of unruffled and supernatural calm, an above-it-all air that was hard to take offense at, since it so clearly was above it all, it was, deep down, rather off-put.

Normally, its air of glamour and otherworldly charms (and it used these words in their oldest meanings) had a certain effect on those mere mortals around it. Currently, those charms were washing against the great solidity that was Wobbler. Its frowned deepened, creating an air of tragic and fantastical beauty that would overwhelm the senses of any that saw it, if their senses hadn't been brought so abruptly down to earth by the sight of Wobbler.

The presence of Wobbler next to the elf was having an effect similar to playing Abba in a Transylvanian tomb, quite disrupting any supernatural effect.

"You probably do want Johnny," Wobbler said, his mouth barely moving as he concentrated on the small, crashing object on the centre of his screen. "All you things do."

The elf looked at him, affronted. Its expression of disapproval, which would have had kings and queens on their knees, begging for forgiveness, bounced off of Wobbler without leaving so much as a ripple to show its passing.

Wobbler shifted in his seat slightly. "I'll take you to meet him when I'm done," he said. "I'm almost at the bit with the cops and the thing."

"You will take me to him now!" It commanded.

"Inna minute! I'm almost done," Wobbler said. "I just gotta--"

Stunned at the lack of reaction, the elf sat down on the bench next to him. After a while, it started to feed the pigeons.

There was a tinny but rather final sounding crash from the game and Wobbler sighed and got up. "C'mon. He's probably at his grandad's."

The elf stood up to go.

"Have you got money for the bus? 'Cause I've got my card, but..."

jamjar: (stories)
"You look good," Tatsuki says, and by good she means "Good", but she knows she also means "different" and "tougher" and "older".

"Thank you!" Orihime flexes her arms. "Look at my muscles!" She puts her elbow on the table. "Let's arm-wrestle."

Tatsuki could probably circle Orihime's arm with her fingers. She rolls her eyes. "Forget it. I'm hungry. Did you get any of those little purin things from that bakery?"

Orihime nods and sets out tea. She talks about school, about the people she saw over the summer, mostly familiar names and some not, and Tatsuki is used to Orihime's style of speech enough to construct a reasonable understanding of it. She met people, who might have been friends of Ichigo or not, and she spent time with people, and possibly did some charity work, and Ishida-kun helped with that and also made her an outfit, which means that he likes Rukia, probably, and...

Orihime gestures as she talks and when she raises her arms, Tatsuki can see that her waist is thinner, pared down of it's normal slight softness, and there are the faint lines of stomach muscles. Whatever she did -and Tatsuki knows Orihime's style of speech well enough to know when she's deliberately concealing things, skipping over and jumping past bits- it was work. Tatsuki knows the product of physical labour.

She waits until Orihime's stopped speaking long enough for Tatsuki to ask, "Was it a good holiday, then?"

Orihime frowns a little, thinking about it. "Yes. It was a good summer." A sharp little nod that makes her hair fall forward and Tatsuki pushes it back for her.

"But I'm happy to be back," Orihime says, smiling brightly.

Tatsuki smiles back and talks about her summer.
jamjar: (Cake or Death!)
Johnny sighed and moved his bishop. "Check," he said.

His opponent moved a pawn. "MATE."

Johnny nodded and started to clear up his pieces. "Guess you win again. I've got--"


It helped if he just thought about him as a--

Actually, it helped if he didn't think about him, except maybe as another Alderman or a Mrs Tachyon, just cleaner and more solid and thinner. He wasn't like that at all, because those people were definitely people, definitely human, and this one wasn't, but...

His Grandad had taught him to play a few months back when he was off sick with the 'flu and it's not that Johnny didn't like chess, because it was pretty good for a game without any special effects, but he didn't know other people liked it as well, until he showed up with a board and a worryingly hopeful expression.

"NO-ONE EVER WANTS TO PLAY WITH ME," he'd said. "AND I ALWAYS ASK." And he'd looked so hopeful…

Almost like he did right now, in fact. "Okay," Johnny said, sitting down. "But this is the last time, really. I've got school tomorrow."




jamjar: (Default)

June 2017

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