summercomfort (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
summercomfort) wrote2005-09-06 02:33 am
summercomfort) wrote2005-09-06 02:33 am
No, I haven't been fic-surfing, really. :X
1) People should never use the words "braided beauty" in place of "he". Or really, anything else. "kitten", "blonde one". I mean, really. It's like, worse than sex euphemisms.
2) Enough fake Japanese already
3) Really, don't try to make this pairing make sense within the context of the story, BECAUSE IT DOESN'T. They're sworn enemies, they would never actually meet, it's completely against everything their character stands for, etc etc. I know it's like totally hawt or something to put the two together, but that's what a/u and "future plottiness" is for. Or just plain admitting "I just wanna write smut so PWP ahead" (Specifically am talking 13x5. Or 5x6. I mean, COME ON people, 6x1 is more likely)
4) the same goes for putting characters in "totally hawt" but totally OC situations, too. No matter how far forward or how far back in a character's life you go, it's quite impossible for this character to
a) become angsty for no reason
b) commit unspeakable sexual act/prostitute himself (v. popular)
c) get rare disease only acquired through watching two aliens mate
d) find himself in an alternate universe as a transvestite beduoin pirate prince
5) WOMEN DO EXIST, kthx. I mean, the homo:hetero ratio on this planet is not 8:2, yo.
On the other hand, efficient characterization makes me wibble with joy. :D
Reprehensible ganking by me, but quite enjoyed the beginning of this before it devolves into typically (but well written) angst and slash. (As can tell from last paragraph). But yes, drunk pilots. Given the ugh-ness of general GW fic, am very appreciative of
1) Heero being cold and collected, but human
2) Differentiation made between Duo/Quatre cheer and Heero/Trowa silence
3) Different drunken attitudes. As in, not everyone becomes sillier when drunk.
---------
Title: Promises Under the Influence
Author: Amanda F uruchan5@hotmail.com
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: 1x2, 2x2, 3x4/4x3, 13x5, ?x2
Chapter 1: Promises
"Itai!!!" Alcohol sloshed onto the gnarled living-room carpet as Duo toppled onto his back. A stream of incoherent curses bubbled up from beneath the coffee-table until the red-faced pilot surfaced. "Bastard!" Duo furiously snatched the tip of his braid from Heero's fist. "Hands off the hair! You promised you wouldn't do that, remember??"
"A promise exacted under the influence of alcohol," Heero returned emotionlessly, "and therefore invalid." Duo's eyes grew impossibly wide, his mouth working soundlessly in large vowels.
"Injustice!" he finally howled out, imitating Wufei as he poked one tapered finger at the Japanese pilot.
"I hardly think so," Trowa remarked quietly, "when it was you who...adjusted his tea." Duo grasped a half empty bottle in one hand, muttering angrily as he re-filled his glass. Two empty bottles rolled noisily about the table with a jab of his elbow.
"If you two are finished with your childish brawling," a severely buzzed Wufei interrupted, "I believe it is Trowa's turn." The pilot of Heavyarms blinked thoughtfully, pausing to steady a rapidly capsizing Quatre.
"I never," he began quietly, fingers toying with the rim of his glass. His eyes sparked feral, a microscopic smile flickering at his lips. "I've never danced naked in front of a mirror pretending my hairbrush is a microphone."
"You jerk!! You promised you wouldn't tell!!" Duo screeched, his face performing a slow burn. "You--you--"he stammered breathlessly, waving his fist maniacally in the air.
"Sugoi, Trowa!" Quatre cheered, listing once more until he thunked against Trowa's chest. "Drink up, Duo!" The violet-eyed pilot snatched his glass from the table, tossing back the bitter liquid with a grimace. Heero thought he'd mumbled something involving duct tape and a certain blonde pilot, but it could have been anything.
"It's your turn, Quatre," Trowa urged him quietly, his voice a fine vibration against the boy's head, tucked securely beneath his chin. The Heavyarms pilot glanced briefly at Wufei, half expecting twin geisers of blood to spurt from his nose. The Chinese pilot was far too occupied with room around him, which was beginning to resemble a Gundam pilot kaleidoscope.
"Um....ano.....eto..." Quatre's eyes glazed, his thoughts reeling as he tried to fix on a suitable question. "Oh, I know!" he exclaimed brightly. "SOCIAL!!"
"Hey, no fair, he already used that!" Duo announced self-righteously, bouncing about until a glare from Heero made him snatch protectively at his braid. "You gotta pick something else!" he demanded, petting his own hair reassuringly.
"Quatre can choose whatever he likes," Trowa replied reasonably. "It's his turn." Duo turned to Heero, opening his mouth to protest loudly against meddling with his drinking game.
"Shut up, Duo," the Japanese pilot growled, silencing his protests with the patented Heero Yuy glare. Heero grasped his drink from the table, and Duo bitterly followed suit. Wufei snatched blindly about until his hand connected with the glass and he swallowed eagerly. Quatre giggled, obviously very pleased with himself, and snuggled back against Trowa's chest.
"Alright, alright," Duo sighed, wounded by the affection between Quatre and Trowa. The sight of the blonde pilot curled in Trowa's arms like a veritable angel was enough to drive him to new heights of despair. And there, seated beside him, he reasoned, was the culprit. "Your turn, Heero. Last one, OK?"
The Japanese pilot surveyed the circle of boys surrounding the small coffee-table. His eyes fixed on Trowa and Quatre, examining the gentle but unmistakably possessive curve of the taller boy's arms, the adoration in the flushed face of his lover. Oh, he was certain they were lovers; it didn't take surveillance training to decipher to radiance of Quatre's face. He supposed it was practical for both of them, and Heero had no quarrel with practicality. Still...If making love with Quatre had such an effect on cold and silent Trowa, he couldn't help but wonder what the act might do to him. His eyes flickered briefly to Duo, widening slightly at the drawn features of that heart-shaped face, the despair in those large, expressive, and undeniably lovely eyes. What's the matter with him? The game was his idea. And he's been miserable all night...
"Yuy? How long do you intend to make us wait?" Wufei inquired arrogantly, his words slightly slurred. "Duo has been quiet for a full ten minutes, and I believe Quatre is about to pass out." That decided it then, Heero mused. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was possessed of a sudden desire to give Wufei the nosebleed of his life.
"I never...."
"C'mon, Heero," Duo prompted impatiently, "you--eep!"
"I never," the Japanese pilot continued, Duo's braid firmly in hand.
"Yuy, you dishonorable cur!" Wufei snarled, his words ridiculously slurred.
"I never--kissed a boy." Heero sat and smugly awaited the effect of his challenge. As expected, Trowa lifted his glass. Quatre couldn't, as he was unconscious, head lolling off Trowa's shoulder; the Heavyarms pilot smiled slightly and drank Quatre's penalty as well. Heero glared at Wufei's face, willing the blood to come spurting forcefully from one nostril--or better yet, both. The Chinese pilot glanced briefly at each of his comrades, mouth a fine line of resentment. And then, he lifted his glass, and drank. Heero's mouth dropped open, prompting Trowa to follow suit, shocked more by the sight of Heero's dumbfounded expression than surprise at Wufei.
A sudden rustle of fabric drew the Japanese pilot's attention. You too?? No, the Wing pilot swore, an unnamed emotion gnawing at his stomach. Refusing to meet Heero's eyes, Duo poured a final glass, drank, and promptly passed out.
Damn, you! Heero hissed, bending to lift the prone figure into his arms. Who was it, Duo? Who?
2) Enough fake Japanese already
3) Really, don't try to make this pairing make sense within the context of the story, BECAUSE IT DOESN'T. They're sworn enemies, they would never actually meet, it's completely against everything their character stands for, etc etc. I know it's like totally hawt or something to put the two together, but that's what a/u and "future plottiness" is for. Or just plain admitting "I just wanna write smut so PWP ahead" (Specifically am talking 13x5. Or 5x6. I mean, COME ON people, 6x1 is more likely)
4) the same goes for putting characters in "totally hawt" but totally OC situations, too. No matter how far forward or how far back in a character's life you go, it's quite impossible for this character to
a) become angsty for no reason
b) commit unspeakable sexual act/prostitute himself (v. popular)
c) get rare disease only acquired through watching two aliens mate
d) find himself in an alternate universe as a transvestite beduoin pirate prince
5) WOMEN DO EXIST, kthx. I mean, the homo:hetero ratio on this planet is not 8:2, yo.
On the other hand, efficient characterization makes me wibble with joy. :D
Reprehensible ganking by me, but quite enjoyed the beginning of this before it devolves into typically (but well written) angst and slash. (As can tell from last paragraph). But yes, drunk pilots. Given the ugh-ness of general GW fic, am very appreciative of
1) Heero being cold and collected, but human
2) Differentiation made between Duo/Quatre cheer and Heero/Trowa silence
3) Different drunken attitudes. As in, not everyone becomes sillier when drunk.
---------
Title: Promises Under the Influence
Author: Amanda F uruchan5@hotmail.com
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: 1x2, 2x2, 3x4/4x3, 13x5, ?x2
Chapter 1: Promises
"Itai!!!" Alcohol sloshed onto the gnarled living-room carpet as Duo toppled onto his back. A stream of incoherent curses bubbled up from beneath the coffee-table until the red-faced pilot surfaced. "Bastard!" Duo furiously snatched the tip of his braid from Heero's fist. "Hands off the hair! You promised you wouldn't do that, remember??"
"A promise exacted under the influence of alcohol," Heero returned emotionlessly, "and therefore invalid." Duo's eyes grew impossibly wide, his mouth working soundlessly in large vowels.
"Injustice!" he finally howled out, imitating Wufei as he poked one tapered finger at the Japanese pilot.
"I hardly think so," Trowa remarked quietly, "when it was you who...adjusted his tea." Duo grasped a half empty bottle in one hand, muttering angrily as he re-filled his glass. Two empty bottles rolled noisily about the table with a jab of his elbow.
"If you two are finished with your childish brawling," a severely buzzed Wufei interrupted, "I believe it is Trowa's turn." The pilot of Heavyarms blinked thoughtfully, pausing to steady a rapidly capsizing Quatre.
"I never," he began quietly, fingers toying with the rim of his glass. His eyes sparked feral, a microscopic smile flickering at his lips. "I've never danced naked in front of a mirror pretending my hairbrush is a microphone."
"You jerk!! You promised you wouldn't tell!!" Duo screeched, his face performing a slow burn. "You--you--"he stammered breathlessly, waving his fist maniacally in the air.
"Sugoi, Trowa!" Quatre cheered, listing once more until he thunked against Trowa's chest. "Drink up, Duo!" The violet-eyed pilot snatched his glass from the table, tossing back the bitter liquid with a grimace. Heero thought he'd mumbled something involving duct tape and a certain blonde pilot, but it could have been anything.
"It's your turn, Quatre," Trowa urged him quietly, his voice a fine vibration against the boy's head, tucked securely beneath his chin. The Heavyarms pilot glanced briefly at Wufei, half expecting twin geisers of blood to spurt from his nose. The Chinese pilot was far too occupied with room around him, which was beginning to resemble a Gundam pilot kaleidoscope.
"Um....ano.....eto..." Quatre's eyes glazed, his thoughts reeling as he tried to fix on a suitable question. "Oh, I know!" he exclaimed brightly. "SOCIAL!!"
"Hey, no fair, he already used that!" Duo announced self-righteously, bouncing about until a glare from Heero made him snatch protectively at his braid. "You gotta pick something else!" he demanded, petting his own hair reassuringly.
"Quatre can choose whatever he likes," Trowa replied reasonably. "It's his turn." Duo turned to Heero, opening his mouth to protest loudly against meddling with his drinking game.
"Shut up, Duo," the Japanese pilot growled, silencing his protests with the patented Heero Yuy glare. Heero grasped his drink from the table, and Duo bitterly followed suit. Wufei snatched blindly about until his hand connected with the glass and he swallowed eagerly. Quatre giggled, obviously very pleased with himself, and snuggled back against Trowa's chest.
"Alright, alright," Duo sighed, wounded by the affection between Quatre and Trowa. The sight of the blonde pilot curled in Trowa's arms like a veritable angel was enough to drive him to new heights of despair. And there, seated beside him, he reasoned, was the culprit. "Your turn, Heero. Last one, OK?"
The Japanese pilot surveyed the circle of boys surrounding the small coffee-table. His eyes fixed on Trowa and Quatre, examining the gentle but unmistakably possessive curve of the taller boy's arms, the adoration in the flushed face of his lover. Oh, he was certain they were lovers; it didn't take surveillance training to decipher to radiance of Quatre's face. He supposed it was practical for both of them, and Heero had no quarrel with practicality. Still...If making love with Quatre had such an effect on cold and silent Trowa, he couldn't help but wonder what the act might do to him. His eyes flickered briefly to Duo, widening slightly at the drawn features of that heart-shaped face, the despair in those large, expressive, and undeniably lovely eyes. What's the matter with him? The game was his idea. And he's been miserable all night...
"Yuy? How long do you intend to make us wait?" Wufei inquired arrogantly, his words slightly slurred. "Duo has been quiet for a full ten minutes, and I believe Quatre is about to pass out." That decided it then, Heero mused. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he was possessed of a sudden desire to give Wufei the nosebleed of his life.
"I never...."
"C'mon, Heero," Duo prompted impatiently, "you--eep!"
"I never," the Japanese pilot continued, Duo's braid firmly in hand.
"Yuy, you dishonorable cur!" Wufei snarled, his words ridiculously slurred.
"I never--kissed a boy." Heero sat and smugly awaited the effect of his challenge. As expected, Trowa lifted his glass. Quatre couldn't, as he was unconscious, head lolling off Trowa's shoulder; the Heavyarms pilot smiled slightly and drank Quatre's penalty as well. Heero glared at Wufei's face, willing the blood to come spurting forcefully from one nostril--or better yet, both. The Chinese pilot glanced briefly at each of his comrades, mouth a fine line of resentment. And then, he lifted his glass, and drank. Heero's mouth dropped open, prompting Trowa to follow suit, shocked more by the sight of Heero's dumbfounded expression than surprise at Wufei.
A sudden rustle of fabric drew the Japanese pilot's attention. You too?? No, the Wing pilot swore, an unnamed emotion gnawing at his stomach. Refusing to meet Heero's eyes, Duo poured a final glass, drank, and promptly passed out.
Damn, you! Heero hissed, bending to lift the prone figure into his arms. Who was it, Duo? Who?
no subject
Am I hopelessly naive for not knowing what 13x1 and 5x6 mean?
no subject
What follows is an announcement from a tetchy writing major
(Anonymous) 2005-09-06 03:55 pm (UTC)(link)HELLO ASPIRING WRITERS EVERYWHERE. WHEN WRITING DIALOGUE, YOUR CHARACTERS DO NOT 'PROMPT,' 'HISS,' 'SNARL,' 'INQUIRE,' 'SCREECH,' 'STAMMER,' 'QUOTH,' OR WHATEVER THE HELL ELSE ISN'T THE VERB 'SAY.' YOUR CHARACTERS 'SAY.' 90% OF THE TIME.
Okay. I'm okay. Really. Phew. Right. Well then.
On the other hand, the characters here are in fact recognizable Gundam Wing entities behaving as I can easily imagine they would when drunk. Of course, no group of guys would play 'never have I ever' together of their own volition, but that's a different matter.
no subject