Name three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them. (Or at least I'll tell you something about it.)
Well, you're right - that's a fic I'd never write.
But if I were going to write Mpreg, it would be to make a point about abortion. Guys don't menstruate, and guys don't get knocked up, so Jim has no freakin clue that he is until the pregnancy is pretty advanced. Oh, sure he'd been sick but that was just stomach-flu. 'Cause, pregnant? That's just nuts. And when he finally did find out? Carrying it to term is so not an option. His body just isn't made for that, you know? He can't give birth: it will literally kill him, and the alternative is major surgery. No, this one's a no-brainer.
But it's too late for a chemical abortion and somehow the word of his condition has leaked out and apparently even to his friends he's not a person any more. Random people think they have the right to grab his belly and get all offended when he tells them to fuck off. Other random people keep stopping him to give him advice or their totally unwanted opinions. The worst is those idiots who assume he's happy about this horror. At least Blair gets it. If Blair wasn't on his side, he'd go crazy and open fire in the bullpen.
What really hurts is his friends. It's hard enough to find a clinic that will take care of this problem for him, but to have even friends treating him like a murderer who should be arrested...it's crazy. This thing is unwanted and best case scenario it's going to permanently change his health and his life. He's a grown man who is fully competent - doesn't he have a right to take care of this quietly? Apparently, not. It seems even his friends think he's suddenly incompetent to make his own decisions about anything. Not to mention having to fight his way through a crowd of protesters just to reach the clinic.
And when he finally gets there? The doc tells him they can't just do the procedure right away. That's illegal. No, he's got to look at pictures of the parasite inside him and then he's got to wait a few days just in case he changes his mind. How crazy is that?
...and so on. I'd have to do some real research about the idiotic hoops women have to jump through.
That's not so weird. Male ballet dancers aren't pansies: it takes a lot of training and a lot of upper body strength to dance. Maybe Jim got into it sort of by accident, like helping out a girl he was sweet on when he was about 12 years old, and he discovered he had a talent for it. Of course his dad kicked him out when he found out what his son was really doing with his evenings, but by then Jim didn't care.
Of course, this meant he never joined the army, never got lost in Peru so the whole Sentinel thing never really kicked in for him. It's there - that hypersensitive touch and his way of picking out the tiniest subtleties in music is part of what makes him such an amazing dancer. But it's never gotten to the point of being a problem for him. The real problem with ballet is you have to retire young. By the time you hit 30 or 35, no matter how hard you train your body just can't do it any more.
On the tour that's going to be his last, Jim's company plays a week in Cascade. It depresses the hell out of him because he hates coming home under these circumstances. But backstage after the first performance he meets this hippie anthropologist who apparently talked his way backstage because he's dating one of the stage hands. Jim goes from annoyed to tolerantly amused in about fifteen seconds, and at the end of the first minute he asks the guy to dinner. What the hell, right? You only live once.
Blair as a bible thumping Christian who hates gays
You didn't need that last bit. There ain't no such thing as a bible-thumping Christian who doesn't hate gays. And women. And anyone who isn't white and/or wealthy. Bastards.
Okay, this would have to be a Blair who was raised by his Daddy, not by Naomi. Maybe she's dead, or maybe that's just what Blair's been told, but he's never known her. He was raised on a diet of ignorant bullshit but when someone beats the shit out of you if you dare to question it, you quit questioning soon enough. Or at least you get good at pretending. Blair's good at pretending. He makes a fair preacher, too: lots of fire and passion, enough to get the young girls hot and panting for a little private tuition.
But that was back home. Just now he's living in the big city, getting a college degree (kinda late, 'cause he wasn't allowed to leave home until he turned 21 and Daddy believed he wouldn't get himself in trouble). He gets involved with a Christian group on campus and during the summer they plan a protest at the city's gay pride march. Blair's not the ringleader, but he's definitely on the committee. They're not gonna do any real harm, just wave some banners, and hand out some literature explaining how AIDS is Jesus' way of cleansing America of its homosexual taint.
It's weird how no one at the march seems to respect their right to free speech. Things turn nasty and it turns out a couple of Blair's friends came packing. You know, just in case. Some people get hurt. Blair doesn't know how bad it is, but he gets handcuffed by this homo in tight leather, who actually turns out to be a real cop.
Blair thinks he's in deep trouble. And it's so not his fault: he wasn't the one packing a gun. He's not that stupid. But they let him go. Someone explains that the cop who arrested him told the DA Blair wasn't part of the violence. That pisses him off more than being arrested. It takes him a whole week to swallow his pride and find out the cop's name so he can say thanks.
(And I'm not sure there's a happy ending to this one, but that's as far as I can go off the top of my head.)
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Blair/Jim mpreg *wicked wicked grin*
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Well, you're right - that's a fic I'd never write.
But if I were going to write Mpreg, it would be to make a point about abortion. Guys don't menstruate, and guys don't get knocked up, so Jim has no freakin clue that he is until the pregnancy is pretty advanced. Oh, sure he'd been sick but that was just stomach-flu. 'Cause, pregnant? That's just nuts. And when he finally did find out? Carrying it to term is so not an option. His body just isn't made for that, you know? He can't give birth: it will literally kill him, and the alternative is major surgery. No, this one's a no-brainer.
But it's too late for a chemical abortion and somehow the word of his condition has leaked out and apparently even to his friends he's not a person any more. Random people think they have the right to grab his belly and get all offended when he tells them to fuck off. Other random people keep stopping him to give him advice or their totally unwanted opinions. The worst is those idiots who assume he's happy about this horror. At least Blair gets it. If Blair wasn't on his side, he'd go crazy and open fire in the bullpen.
What really hurts is his friends. It's hard enough to find a clinic that will take care of this problem for him, but to have even friends treating him like a murderer who should be arrested...it's crazy. This thing is unwanted and best case scenario it's going to permanently change his health and his life. He's a grown man who is fully competent - doesn't he have a right to take care of this quietly? Apparently, not. It seems even his friends think he's suddenly incompetent to make his own decisions about anything. Not to mention having to fight his way through a crowd of protesters just to reach the clinic.
And when he finally gets there? The doc tells him they can't just do the procedure right away. That's illegal. No, he's got to look at pictures of the parasite inside him and then he's got to wait a few days just in case he changes his mind. How crazy is that?
...and so on. I'd have to do some real research about the idiotic hoops women have to jump through.
Not that I'd ever write this fic.
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Which is a fucking shame because I would so absolutely read that. Wow.
*applauds*
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The problem I have with MPreg is it's never bloody *realistic*.
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Jim as a famous ballet dancer
Blair as a bible thumping Christian who hates gays
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That's not so weird. Male ballet dancers aren't pansies: it takes a lot of training and a lot of upper body strength to dance. Maybe Jim got into it sort of by accident, like helping out a girl he was sweet on when he was about 12 years old, and he discovered he had a talent for it. Of course his dad kicked him out when he found out what his son was really doing with his evenings, but by then Jim didn't care.
Of course, this meant he never joined the army, never got lost in Peru so the whole Sentinel thing never really kicked in for him. It's there - that hypersensitive touch and his way of picking out the tiniest subtleties in music is part of what makes him such an amazing dancer. But it's never gotten to the point of being a problem for him. The real problem with ballet is you have to retire young. By the time you hit 30 or 35, no matter how hard you train your body just can't do it any more.
On the tour that's going to be his last, Jim's company plays a week in Cascade. It depresses the hell out of him because he hates coming home under these circumstances. But backstage after the first performance he meets this hippie anthropologist who apparently talked his way backstage because he's dating one of the stage hands. Jim goes from annoyed to tolerantly amused in about fifteen seconds, and at the end of the first minute he asks the guy to dinner. What the hell, right? You only live once.
(You can write the rest yourself...)
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You didn't need that last bit. There ain't no such thing as a bible-thumping Christian who doesn't hate gays. And women. And anyone who isn't white and/or wealthy. Bastards.
Okay, this would have to be a Blair who was raised by his Daddy, not by Naomi. Maybe she's dead, or maybe that's just what Blair's been told, but he's never known her. He was raised on a diet of ignorant bullshit but when someone beats the shit out of you if you dare to question it, you quit questioning soon enough. Or at least you get good at pretending. Blair's good at pretending. He makes a fair preacher, too: lots of fire and passion, enough to get the young girls hot and panting for a little private tuition.
But that was back home. Just now he's living in the big city, getting a college degree (kinda late, 'cause he wasn't allowed to leave home until he turned 21 and Daddy believed he wouldn't get himself in trouble). He gets involved with a Christian group on campus and during the summer they plan a protest at the city's gay pride march. Blair's not the ringleader, but he's definitely on the committee. They're not gonna do any real harm, just wave some banners, and hand out some literature explaining how AIDS is Jesus' way of cleansing America of its homosexual taint.
It's weird how no one at the march seems to respect their right to free speech. Things turn nasty and it turns out a couple of Blair's friends came packing. You know, just in case. Some people get hurt. Blair doesn't know how bad it is, but he gets handcuffed by this homo in tight leather, who actually turns out to be a real cop.
Blair thinks he's in deep trouble. And it's so not his fault: he wasn't the one packing a gun. He's not that stupid. But they let him go. Someone explains that the cop who arrested him told the DA Blair wasn't part of the violence. That pisses him off more than being arrested. It takes him a whole week to swallow his pride and find out the cop's name so he can say thanks.
(And I'm not sure there's a happy ending to this one, but that's as far as I can go off the top of my head.)
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