The dead dogs of nowhere

This here is for annakovsky: Jim/Creed. Partially inspired by the smarmy rock snobbery of "i can hear you as you tap on your jar" by onthecontrary.

title: world tour
author: zara hemla
pairing: jim/creed
summary: what's better than listening to that album about iowa by that stevens kid?

( I'm a boy, I'm a boy, but my mom won't admit it )

This here is Toby/Roy, for annakovsky. Onward!

( 'I hate my house,' says Miserable Roy, low and mean. )

Fic for the Office. And I give it headers because I feel like it, not because TWOP wants me to. Mmhmm.


Title: The right to remain silent
Author: zara hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Site: if.sweetdarkness.net
Fandom: The Office (US) Set before 2x20 ("drug testing"), when Dwight gives up his uniform.

( Angela's got a black belt in kissing; a mere purple belt doesn't stand a chance. )

Well, winter_baby gets her wish, because my brain wouldn't leave this one alone. Rodeo Brokeback fic, just for you. And it's about as good as it will ever be, since Jack and Ennis are both basically alien creatures to me.

title: sprains & pains
author: zara hemla
optional soundtrack: I gave you, by superwolf.

( Friend a mine got his oil checked with a horn dipstick and that was all she wrote. )

Yuletide is up, so I can now say that I wrote Days of Nineteen. Dark Tower -- is anyone surprised? I didn't think so. At least stubbleglitter liked it ... and it turned out pretty well ... it's all I could hope for.

(Side note to karabou, who was so worried about Jake becoming a chain smoker: it isn't something I thought of randomly.

Roland was smoking, and Jake nodded at it.
"Roll me one of those, would you?"
Roland turned in Susannah's direction, eyebrows raised. She shrugged, then nodded. Roland rolled Jake a cigarette, gave it to him, then scratched a match on the seat of his pants and lit it. Jake sat on the waggon wheel, taking the smoke in occasional puffs, holding it in his mouth, then letting it out. His mouth filled up with spit. He didn't mind. Unlike some things, spit could be got rid of. He made no attempt to inhale.
Wolves of the Calla, 690.

I'm just using it in a self-medicating kind of way -- as part of Jake dealing with his grief over the Slightman boy's death. What is the only outlet that Jake has that's not only societally approved (re: the "cowboy" mentality of the Calla) but approved by Roland as well (and taken up by Roland at more or less the same age)? Smokin', that's what. It's not much mentioned later, so I assume it tapers off, but this is set in that small space between books, where I can do what I want ... in retrospect maybe "chain-smoking" was an ill-thought-out term ... but I do love the sound of it.)

I think I've gone insane. Yes, and it was all minor_blue's fault. I blame her entirely, for it was she that linked fanfic100. And then I noticed that Dark Tower wasn't taken and ...

*sobs*

WHAT HAVE I DONE

????????

( It isn't necessary to click on this cut. No ... don't do it! It's just an empty table! Stop! Stop! )

Also, for anyone who wants to revisit the heyday of XFiles fic-writing, when you could write anything, I post this. It makes Spender look like a huge dork, but that was kind of the point. I wrote the series with a former friend, and so this is all in fun.

Pretty Fly (for a white guy) 1C --I Have Met The Enemy
by zara hemla ::
x-files ::
pg-13 ::
a continuation of the 'pretty fly' universe, where spender is a hee-yuge loser with a really long wishlist.

( speed turns me on )

voleuse wrote the best ever Gilmore Girls fic for me: it's Rory/Logan, yes yes yesssss precious. Devil On My Shoulder.

Meanwhile, here is my own, less cool entry. It's for carabear27, who requested Jess/Rory with no mention of Dean, and as I recall: a bad hair day, the color turqouise, and a literary debate.

(My site is still down because of those cyberpixel bastards. I have to harry them for a password to my domain name and I still haven't had time yet. So for now, this journal is the only official repository of my fic.)

Title: Everything Zen
Author: Zara Hemla
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Everything zen -- I don't think so.
Written for Carabear27 for the Gilmore Girls ficathon.

( the difference between us is, you have a home -- and I don't. )

So yeah. That last post, just a rant. I didn't really need advice -- none of you are really qualified -- though I did get some good info from Aspen about glycogen.

Next: a poll!

Yesterday at K-Mart, I bought a new kind of Skittles that are "smoothie" flavored. I like to try all new kinds of Skittles, just to see what I think.

[Poll #422503]

And finally, a small fanfic! The first one I haven't struggled with in, not coincidentally, about 9 months. It's kind of stream-of-consciousness, but that's also good, because I've had lots of trouble with that too. It's about the West Wing, week before last episode in New Hampshire, Josh & Donna.

Title: It's not a thing
Author: Zara Hemla (shutupmulder@yahoo.com)
Fandom: West Wing
Rating: PG

( facetious, two-faced weasel )

It's knowledge and entertainment!

prelude (PREL-yood, PRAYL-, PRAY-lood, PREE-) noun

1. An introductory event, performance, or action preceding something more important.
2. A musical section, overture, etc. serving as introduction to the main composition, opera, play, etc.

verb tr., intr.

To serve as an introduction to something.

[From Medieval Latin praeludium, from Latin praeludere (to play beforehand), from prae- (pre-) + ludere (to play). Ultimately from Indo-European root leid- (to play) that is also the ancestor of words such as allude, collude, delude, elude, illusion, and ludicrous.]

Since Brooke was old enough to understand it, the sex has been prelude to the leaving. Priorities being what they are, sex is nothing but nerve endings, but the leaving proves something: she could never have held onto Lucas.

Peyton would laugh at her for saying it. Peyton is one of those people who believes in forever, in a frothy white wedding dress and her smiling dad giving her away. In the wedding march and the ever, ever after. Fidelity.
Monogamy. All those Oprah cliches. And is it ever so? Brooke knows of no one -- no one -- who has lasted like that. Every force in life is arrayed against fidelity. Every force -- and Brooke is a force.

Sitting on a stool at some anonymous bar, she will nurse her drink and look for the shy ones, the ones that know they shouldn't be there. And she will choose one, a good-looking one that looks self-consciously down at his hand too many times, or twists for a ring that isn't there. She will catch his eye and smile at him, and she will move over to him eventually.

And there will be the time of negotiation, and the time when she leads him outside, and the time when the motel room is paid for and she can unwrap him like it was her birthday every day. And oh! How grateful and guilty he will look, hands pinned up above their heads, watching her rise above them and fall, rise and fall.

Sometimes she picks one that makes her think of Lucas. And then she leaves him, over and over, leaves without payment or goodbye, stops outside the door and adjusts her heels and smiles, because there's no such thing as fidelity, she can show Peyton that any day of the week without half trying.