Author profile: [livejournal.com profile] exeterlinden

Apr. 23rd, 2010 03:59 pm
[identity profile] mergatrude.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] ds_profiles
Author: [livejournal.com profile] exeterlinden
Website/link to fic: Exeterlinden's fic on the Archive Of Our Own.
Exeterlinden's fic on LJ
Fanlore page: Exeterlinden
First DS fic posted: 2005
Full disclosure: Linden and I are mutual friends, and I have beta-ed a couple of her stories.
Pairings: Fraser/Kowalski, Fraser/Vecchio, Stella/Vecchio, Stella/Kowalski, Stella/Fraser
Style and strengths: Linden writes character-driven stories that suck you in. They're sometimes sweet and funny, sometimes creepy, always thoughtful; you always feel like you know the characters and their thoughts and emotions better by the end.
Other DS/C6D activity: Linden has written stories for Hard Core Logo and Wilby Wonderful.
Some favourites:
Dinner Date F/V. Ray takes Fraser to dinner. Fraser thinks it's a date. I thought this was adorable when Linden first sent it to me, and I still think it's adorable.
"How long?"

"How long what, Ray."

"You know what I mean… How long have you, you know…"

He could say it. He was a modern, cultural guy in touch with his feminine side, damn it.

"How long have I been attracted to you?"

Thank god.

"Yeah, that."

"Well, Ray, I would have to say… Since you shot me."

Ray couldn't help it - he threw his head back and laughed helplessly at the ceiling. He was aware that he sounded slightly hysterical. In front of them the sign of Duffy's Tavern appeared.

" Ray, I'm afraid I fail to see the joke." Fraser looked not only angry, but also hurt.

"I'm sorry, Benny, that's just so…"

Completely backwards, weird, illogical, tragic, funny,

"…us."

Say Hello, Wave Goodbye, F/K. After the Quest, it takes them a little while to figure out what they want.

He wakes up in the middle of the night; a glance at his watch tells him it’s three thirty. He lies quietly for a while on his back trying to figure out what woke him, but there’s no sound, nothing untoward. He turns to his side and sees a sliver of light from under the door to the living room, and now that he’s fully awake he detects a faint smell of smoke. He gets up without turning on the light, and opens the door. Seeing him, Ray quickly stubs out a cigarette, waving his hand to disperse the smoke. “Oh shit, sorry Fraser!”

The television is on; a car chase is flickering silently across the screen. Ray is in his boxers, sitting on the sofa; blanket and pillow pushed to one side, the sheet rucked up underneath him. There’s a half-drained beer on the table, an open pack of cigarettes and a saucer filled with butts. “Don’t worry about it, Ray” he says automatically.

Ray looks embarrassed, awkward, he scratches the back of his neck. “Couldn’t uh, couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Fraser lies. Ray moves over on the couch and he goes to sit down next to him. He wishes now that he had put on his trousers or a shirt; he feels naked only in his boxers and undershirt.

They watch the movie in silence for a while; the getaway driver gets more and more desperate, looking back at the police cars closing in on him. Ray snorts. Fraser cracks his neck, trying to loosen up tense muscles. "Is something bothering you, Ray?” On the screen the felon loses his grip on the wheel, the car veers over a cliff and explodes into flames soundlessly. Ray reaches out and fingers the cigarette pack, turns it over and over.

“Do you mind if I - ?”

Normally he would, but he nods. "Go ahead.” Ray smokes like someone with a long time addiction: he flips the cigarette into his mouth, flicks open the lighter and lights it, takes a long deep drag, leans back and exhales through his nose, looking like someone catching his first breath after being underwater. Fraser watches, fascinated.

“Do you ever feel like, if you aren’t around someone…” Ray stops, casts a sidelong glance at Fraser. “Are you… Are you doing alright up here?”

Fraser thinks about it. "Well, the Rocky Mountains are beautiful. I suppose the work is rather tedious. Dief… let’s just say that he’s been very hard to please, lately. And you?”

Ray picks the cigarette from his lips, looks at it, stubs it out on the saucer. “I don’t know. I don’t want Stella anymore.”

“Oh.” There is an obvious question that he doesn’t know if he should ask. He feels it linger between them. The movie comes to an end. Ray’s knee is pale and bony in his peripheral vision.


Rock 'n' Roll Suicide, a Rolling Stone article on Hard Core Logo. This is an awesome story in both concept and execution, and a "must read" for the HCL fandom! The article is actually posted as scans, so no quotes. Just read it.

Date: 2010-04-27 09:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dewey3067.livejournal.com
Hi

Could you double-check if I should title the Fanlore page Linden or exeterlinden? (I'm assuming lowercase on the latter based on AO3 but would appreciate verification on that too *g*).

I can list both names, just need to know what the primary one should be.

Thanks!

Date: 2010-05-09 09:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dewey3067.livejournal.com
Thanks! Here's the page:

http://fanlore.org/wiki/Exeterlinden


If we find out later that she would prefer Linden we can do a redirect.

Date: 2010-05-13 10:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] exeterlinden.livejournal.com
Oops! Hi! :) Sorry, I completely missed this... But it's perfect as it is, and happy-making beyond compare :D Thank you guys.

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