The OOC meme
Jan. 15th, 2011 10:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
renrenren3First of all, I blame this on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanficrants. There was this rant posted earlier today about someone taking a SGA fanfic and replacing the names and posting it as an Hawaii Five-0 fanfic, turning everyone OOC, and I wondered what would happen if I tried that. So, uhm, I took a couple of my shorter stuff and gave them a spin on the search-and-replace rollercoaster of life. I might also talk funny because I'm sleep deprived.
So, below the cut are 5 awesome new stories for Castle, Supernatural, Psych, Sherlock, Hawaii Five-0that are actually old stories with the names replaced but sssh it's not plagiarism if I recycle my old stories! See, even if I don't have time to write because of exams, I can still produce new fic. They took about 5 minutes each because I actually went and fixed some small details that might have been too much of a dead giveaway. Like a patronus in a pretend!Supernatural fic. Trololol.
Cookies if you can guess the original fandom, though it doesn't count if you remember the original fandom from having read the original fic when I posted it. Usually I get told I have a good grasp of characterization so this should be easy. Ish.
1. Castle, Beckett/Castle
Castle is nothing like any of the guys she's dated before. For one thing he's Castle, which means he's pretty weird. Anyone who's met Castle would tell you that. If she had to go into details, she could make a list. He's tall, all right, but not muscular at all. She could beat him at arm wrestling any day. In fact, she has. It was very satisfactory. Castle talks easily enough but he's not what you'd call a good conversationalist.
They also have very few things in common. They used to have nothing in common at all, but they're working on that. Castle taught her how to play WoW and got her to watch Battlestar Galactica. She's never been able to get Castle interested in any of her hobbies, but she's trying.
Also, completely unlike most guys she's dated, Castle looks like a jerk and is actually a nice person. Or at least most of the times. Or at least the times that counted. She stopped being insulted by Castle's better-than-you attitude a long time ago: the sky is blue, Castle thinks I'm stupid, nothing new in the world. It's just the natural order of things. As long as she knows that Castle will be there if she needs him, she'll manage.
Of course, provided that she doesn't need him while his schedule says he should be doing laundry or something like that. Castle really needs to add an emergency clause to his schedule, and no, she's not going to use the bat-signal to signal an emergency.
But that's the thing. The basic difference, the one big thing that makes Castle different from all the Jacobs and Marks and Harveys that she dated in the past, is that Castle stuck around. He stuck around through Beckett's endless rants about her failure to catch any criminals, through her despair at reopening her mother's murder case, through her horrific breakup with Tom and through the two even more horrific subsequent breakups.
He's been a constant in her life for years, and you can see it from all the little details. Case in point: she would have never used the word 'constant' before meeting Castle. Sometimes she wonders if he knew that it would make her fall for him. Probably not, she thinks, this is Castle after all. Thinking that he could understand the subtleties of human romance is kind of like thinking that toasters are a sentient race planning to take over the world.
But he had to notice some change. She was sure that something about her had been different since that morning when she woke up and thought, "Oh crap, I think I'm in love with the crazy writer who stalks me to crime scenes."
Sometimes she stares at him and wonders. And that's another good thing about Castle: you can stare all you want and nobody will find it strange, because everyone is always staring at Castle for one reason or another.
So anyway, she stares at Castle and wonders what she'll do now. The idea of starting a relationship with Castle is strange. Castle has the same concept of romance as the aforementioned toasters. She doubts that Castle would do dating or kissing or anything traditionally associated with a relationship. But she can't deny that she's thought about it. About them. Together.
She doesn't think she's ready to tell him right now, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe it'll take her a year or two to find the courage to ask Castle out, or maybe ten years. Maybe twenty or more. But it's okay: she has all the time in the world, and Castle will stick around.
2. Supernatural, Castiel/Dean
Dean never thought he'd be one of those people who look at their faces in the mirror each morning with growing panic, afraid to see the first white hair or line at the corner of his eyes. But lately he does, unfailingly, every single day.
So far he hasn't noticed any signs of aging. There is no reason why he would, he's not even thirty yet. That's what he keeps repeating himself. It's not as reassuring as it should be, especially when he remembers that thirty years are nothing to Castiel.
It shouldn't bother Dean as much as it does. After all, he's the one who was wishing for death, time and again during those dark months in his life when everything seemed so pointless and even breathing was a constant pain.
The only thing that had stopped him from pointing a gun at his own head and pulling the trigger had been Castiel. Always Castiel.
At first because Castiel was in charge of Heaven and could give him access to the information he needed. Then because he wanted his revenge against Castiel for ruining his life. And in the end because Castiel was, well, Castiel.
Dean is less surprised by the fact that he's fallen in love with Castiel than by the fact that it has taken him so long.
In a way, it's perfect: Castiel will never die, and Dean will never have to go through the same pain that was losing Lisa. Castiel will still be here, alive and unchanged, in thirty, fifty, a hundred years' time.
On the other hand, Castiel will never die. He'll still be here, long after Dean and everyone else is gone. He has no idea how Castiel can stand that, and sometimes he looks into Castiel's eyes and sees something that tells him that Castiel has no idea either.
Dean looks in the mirror, but he doesn't know what to do when he'll start showing signs that he really is aging. Every time he's gathered enough courage to break the subject with Castiel, he has brushed it off saying it will be fine.
Dean isn't quite so sure about that, but he used to think he'd never fall in love with anyone else after Lisa either.
And sometimes when they're together it seems as if time is stopping, even if just for a minute, and in those brief moments Dean thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine.
3. Psych, Shawn & co.
When a very alarmed Gus finally opened the door to the office, Lassiter and his men found Shawn sprawled on the sofa.
Lassiter hurried to his side. "Are you alright?" he asked urgently, looking for any signs of injury or illness. God only knew what Shawn could have got himself into this time.
"I'm unhurt, if that's what you mean," Shawn replied, his voice cold and expressionless. He craned his head to look at the small party assembled in his living room. "Though you should know Gus's presence grates on my nerves."
"What's going on?" the man snapped back. "Where's your emergency?"
"Good of you to come along, Gus," Shawn replied, ignoring the question. "Next time, don't bother. You're only making things worse."
"Seriously, Shawn, what's going on?" Lassiter asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long day and by now he should be on his way home instead of having to deal with Shawn's antics. "Your message sounded urgent, so don't tell me we rushed here just so that you could have a crack at Gus."
Shawn sighed. "If, for once, you bothered to use your powers of observation," he said closing his eyes, "you'd notice that something is missing."
Lassiter looked around, perplexed. The flat was in its usual state of endemic disarray, Shawn's possessions strewn around carelessly. He couldn't say he noticed anything different from the other times he'd been there.
He looked at Gus, who just rolled his eyes, then at O'Hara.
"No spare body parts lying around?" she ventured, making Shawn scoff.
"Shawn!" his father broke in indignantly. "I hope you haven't been messing around with anything horrible in the kitchen again, it gave me such a fright last time..."
Lassiter was about to ask her if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary when Shawn, clearly bored of their guessing game, sat up abruptly.
"Gus!" he exclaimed, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "It's Gus!"
For a moment, Lassiter forgot his annoyance. "Kidnapped?" he asked quickly, hoping the doctor hadn't got involved in something else. He felt sympathy for Gus, whom he thought was a good man and didn't deserve to have to deal with Shawn on a daily basis.
"Worse," Shawn said, making Lassiter's heart skipped a beat. "He went out with Sarah."
It took Lassiter a moment to process this information. Gus was quicker. "You mean you called Scotland Yard and had us rush here because your flatmate ditched you for a girl?" he spluttered. "And you called it an emergency?"
"He said not to wait up because he wouldn't be back until tomorrow," Shawn said as if that explained everything. In his mind, it probably did. "It's the first time he's done that. I was getting thirsty. Dad complains when I call her to make me tea."
Lassiter was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to beat Shawn to death with his own kettle. He was sure Gus and O'Hara would back him up, and the landlady would probably help hide the body.
Instead he took a few calming breaths, cut off Gus mid-insult and gestured to him and O'Hara. "Let's go," he said. "We're done here."
"But you haven't made my tea yet," Shawn complained, and even had the gall to sound annoyed. Lassiter made a point of slamming the door on his way out.
He was back within fifteen minutes, just enough time to ditch Gus and O'Hara and retrace his steps. "Just this once," he said. Shawn smirked at him from the sofa and Lassiter felt compelled to add, "I'm off duty anyway. And I want your opinion on the Carfax case."
Then he went to put on the kettle.
4. Sherlock, John & Sherlock
"I assure you, madam," Sherlock says. "We are professionals."
The short-sighted man at the desk peers at them, frowning as he takes in Sherlock's eccentric apparel, his bow-tie and his hopeful grin. He frowns even more as he moves his stare to John.
"Wait a moment while I check," the man says, turning away from them and picking up some sort of telephone receiver.
John nudges Sherlock in the ribs. "Couldn't you just show his the magic piece of paper?" he hisses.
"Nah," Sherlock replies. "High-security place like this, all of their employees must have some kind of psychic training. Well," he adds after the briefest hesitation, "unless we're very, very lucky. But I'd rather use that luck to convince this lady that we're professionals. Try to look professional, John."
"Wait, high-security?" John asks. he straightens up as best as he can and tries to act as if he knows exactly why they're here, though to be honest he doesn't have the foggiest. "I thought we were just here to see a friend of yours."
"Yes, long story, he might not want to see me," Sherlock replies.
"Why, did you do something to his?"
"Not yet, at least for the next five years," Sherlock says.
John is torn between wanting to ask his more and not wanting to hear an explanation that's very likely to give his a headache.
he's saved when the man at the desk turns back and says, "Mr. Smith, Ms. John, I will need to check your toolkit before letting you downstairs."
"Of course!" Sherlock exclaims, producing a screwdriver from his pocket and handing it over.
The man turns it over in his hands for a couple of seconds before handing it back. "All seems fine. Ms. John?"
"Oh, I'm not carrying one of those," John says, prompting the man to snort and Sherlock to wave his hands around frantically.
"Don't be silly, John, of course you do," he says. "What kind of professional you'd be if you forgot your toolkit?"
He's wiggling his eyebrows, possibly trying to send his some kind of message, but John has no idea of what he wants his to do. Couldn't he have told his earlier about this part of the plan?
At a loss, he puts his hands in his jacket's pockets and finds a ballpoint pen. "Er," he said, holding it up hesitantly.
The man rolls his eyes and snatches it from his hand, only giving it a cursory glance before tossing it back. "You can go," he says, pressing a button to unlock the elevator's door. "Try not to take too long, we're expecting visitors soon."
Before Sherlock can talk his, he's already started another phone call.
John grins. "I can't believe that worked," he says as they walk away from the desk.
"Neither do I," Sherlock replies. "By the way: a ballpoint pen? Seriously?"
"Hey, it's not as if humans go around carrying screwdrivers," John replies defensively. "And it's my favourite pen. It writes in green," he adds.
"Ah, well, in that case," Sherlock says. "Hurry up before they realize that we're not really here for maintenance."
5. Hawaii Five-0, Danny/Steve, Chin, Kono
Steve tilted back his chair to have a better view of the crime board. "So what did you find?" he asked Chin.
Chin glanced at the folder for a moment, mostly to refresh his memory on the names. He hated Russian mobsters for several reasons: the killed people, they gave him lots of work and even more paperwork, and their names were all unpronounceable.
"Well, our man's alibi checks out," he said. "But check this, he's got a best friend who apparently owes our vic a lot of money too and..."
"Stop doing that," Danny snapped. "Right this instant."
Chin looked up and frowned before realizing that the source of Danny's displeasure was, once again, Steve McGarrett.
"What?" Steve asked in his least convincing 'innocent' tone.
Danny snorted and swiveled the chair around to face the writer. "Stop tilting back your chair," he said as if he was speaking to a child. A very naughty one, at that. "You're going to fall and break your head, not that I care, but it'll mean more paperwork for the department."
"I'm not going to fall," Steve replied petulantly.
"I'm going to look into these leads," Chin said quickly, making his retreat before the two started arguing.
He'd just sat down at his desk when he heard a loud thump. Turning around he saw Steve sprawled on the floor and Danny giving him a look that was half smug and half concerned. When she saw that Steve was still alive she launched into a tirade about brainless Navy SEALs without the sense God gave a potato.
Chin shook his head and took the coffee Kono was holding out to him. "Thanks," he said. "Hey, do you think those two realize they're acting like an old married couple?"
"Nah," Kono said. "They have no clue."
Look at that, 5 fics in just one night! I'm awesome, Y/Y?Also I watch too many cop shows.
fanficrants. There was this rant posted earlier today about someone taking a SGA fanfic and replacing the names and posting it as an Hawaii Five-0 fanfic, turning everyone OOC, and I wondered what would happen if I tried that. So, uhm, I took a couple of my shorter stuff and gave them a spin on the search-and-replace rollercoaster of life. So, below the cut are 5 awesome new stories for Castle, Supernatural, Psych, Sherlock, Hawaii Five-0
Cookies if you can guess the original fandom, though it doesn't count if you remember the original fandom from having read the original fic when I posted it. Usually I get told I have a good grasp of characterization so this should be easy. Ish.
1. Castle, Beckett/Castle
Castle is nothing like any of the guys she's dated before. For one thing he's Castle, which means he's pretty weird. Anyone who's met Castle would tell you that. If she had to go into details, she could make a list. He's tall, all right, but not muscular at all. She could beat him at arm wrestling any day. In fact, she has. It was very satisfactory. Castle talks easily enough but he's not what you'd call a good conversationalist.
They also have very few things in common. They used to have nothing in common at all, but they're working on that. Castle taught her how to play WoW and got her to watch Battlestar Galactica. She's never been able to get Castle interested in any of her hobbies, but she's trying.
Also, completely unlike most guys she's dated, Castle looks like a jerk and is actually a nice person. Or at least most of the times. Or at least the times that counted. She stopped being insulted by Castle's better-than-you attitude a long time ago: the sky is blue, Castle thinks I'm stupid, nothing new in the world. It's just the natural order of things. As long as she knows that Castle will be there if she needs him, she'll manage.
Of course, provided that she doesn't need him while his schedule says he should be doing laundry or something like that. Castle really needs to add an emergency clause to his schedule, and no, she's not going to use the bat-signal to signal an emergency.
But that's the thing. The basic difference, the one big thing that makes Castle different from all the Jacobs and Marks and Harveys that she dated in the past, is that Castle stuck around. He stuck around through Beckett's endless rants about her failure to catch any criminals, through her despair at reopening her mother's murder case, through her horrific breakup with Tom and through the two even more horrific subsequent breakups.
He's been a constant in her life for years, and you can see it from all the little details. Case in point: she would have never used the word 'constant' before meeting Castle. Sometimes she wonders if he knew that it would make her fall for him. Probably not, she thinks, this is Castle after all. Thinking that he could understand the subtleties of human romance is kind of like thinking that toasters are a sentient race planning to take over the world.
But he had to notice some change. She was sure that something about her had been different since that morning when she woke up and thought, "Oh crap, I think I'm in love with the crazy writer who stalks me to crime scenes."
Sometimes she stares at him and wonders. And that's another good thing about Castle: you can stare all you want and nobody will find it strange, because everyone is always staring at Castle for one reason or another.
So anyway, she stares at Castle and wonders what she'll do now. The idea of starting a relationship with Castle is strange. Castle has the same concept of romance as the aforementioned toasters. She doubts that Castle would do dating or kissing or anything traditionally associated with a relationship. But she can't deny that she's thought about it. About them. Together.
She doesn't think she's ready to tell him right now, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe it'll take her a year or two to find the courage to ask Castle out, or maybe ten years. Maybe twenty or more. But it's okay: she has all the time in the world, and Castle will stick around.
2. Supernatural, Castiel/Dean
Dean never thought he'd be one of those people who look at their faces in the mirror each morning with growing panic, afraid to see the first white hair or line at the corner of his eyes. But lately he does, unfailingly, every single day.
So far he hasn't noticed any signs of aging. There is no reason why he would, he's not even thirty yet. That's what he keeps repeating himself. It's not as reassuring as it should be, especially when he remembers that thirty years are nothing to Castiel.
It shouldn't bother Dean as much as it does. After all, he's the one who was wishing for death, time and again during those dark months in his life when everything seemed so pointless and even breathing was a constant pain.
The only thing that had stopped him from pointing a gun at his own head and pulling the trigger had been Castiel. Always Castiel.
At first because Castiel was in charge of Heaven and could give him access to the information he needed. Then because he wanted his revenge against Castiel for ruining his life. And in the end because Castiel was, well, Castiel.
Dean is less surprised by the fact that he's fallen in love with Castiel than by the fact that it has taken him so long.
In a way, it's perfect: Castiel will never die, and Dean will never have to go through the same pain that was losing Lisa. Castiel will still be here, alive and unchanged, in thirty, fifty, a hundred years' time.
On the other hand, Castiel will never die. He'll still be here, long after Dean and everyone else is gone. He has no idea how Castiel can stand that, and sometimes he looks into Castiel's eyes and sees something that tells him that Castiel has no idea either.
Dean looks in the mirror, but he doesn't know what to do when he'll start showing signs that he really is aging. Every time he's gathered enough courage to break the subject with Castiel, he has brushed it off saying it will be fine.
Dean isn't quite so sure about that, but he used to think he'd never fall in love with anyone else after Lisa either.
And sometimes when they're together it seems as if time is stopping, even if just for a minute, and in those brief moments Dean thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine.
3. Psych, Shawn & co.
When a very alarmed Gus finally opened the door to the office, Lassiter and his men found Shawn sprawled on the sofa.
Lassiter hurried to his side. "Are you alright?" he asked urgently, looking for any signs of injury or illness. God only knew what Shawn could have got himself into this time.
"I'm unhurt, if that's what you mean," Shawn replied, his voice cold and expressionless. He craned his head to look at the small party assembled in his living room. "Though you should know Gus's presence grates on my nerves."
"What's going on?" the man snapped back. "Where's your emergency?"
"Good of you to come along, Gus," Shawn replied, ignoring the question. "Next time, don't bother. You're only making things worse."
"Seriously, Shawn, what's going on?" Lassiter asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long day and by now he should be on his way home instead of having to deal with Shawn's antics. "Your message sounded urgent, so don't tell me we rushed here just so that you could have a crack at Gus."
Shawn sighed. "If, for once, you bothered to use your powers of observation," he said closing his eyes, "you'd notice that something is missing."
Lassiter looked around, perplexed. The flat was in its usual state of endemic disarray, Shawn's possessions strewn around carelessly. He couldn't say he noticed anything different from the other times he'd been there.
He looked at Gus, who just rolled his eyes, then at O'Hara.
"No spare body parts lying around?" she ventured, making Shawn scoff.
"Shawn!" his father broke in indignantly. "I hope you haven't been messing around with anything horrible in the kitchen again, it gave me such a fright last time..."
Lassiter was about to ask her if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary when Shawn, clearly bored of their guessing game, sat up abruptly.
"Gus!" he exclaimed, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "It's Gus!"
For a moment, Lassiter forgot his annoyance. "Kidnapped?" he asked quickly, hoping the doctor hadn't got involved in something else. He felt sympathy for Gus, whom he thought was a good man and didn't deserve to have to deal with Shawn on a daily basis.
"Worse," Shawn said, making Lassiter's heart skipped a beat. "He went out with Sarah."
It took Lassiter a moment to process this information. Gus was quicker. "You mean you called Scotland Yard and had us rush here because your flatmate ditched you for a girl?" he spluttered. "And you called it an emergency?"
"He said not to wait up because he wouldn't be back until tomorrow," Shawn said as if that explained everything. In his mind, it probably did. "It's the first time he's done that. I was getting thirsty. Dad complains when I call her to make me tea."
Lassiter was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to beat Shawn to death with his own kettle. He was sure Gus and O'Hara would back him up, and the landlady would probably help hide the body.
Instead he took a few calming breaths, cut off Gus mid-insult and gestured to him and O'Hara. "Let's go," he said. "We're done here."
"But you haven't made my tea yet," Shawn complained, and even had the gall to sound annoyed. Lassiter made a point of slamming the door on his way out.
He was back within fifteen minutes, just enough time to ditch Gus and O'Hara and retrace his steps. "Just this once," he said. Shawn smirked at him from the sofa and Lassiter felt compelled to add, "I'm off duty anyway. And I want your opinion on the Carfax case."
Then he went to put on the kettle.
4. Sherlock, John & Sherlock
"I assure you, madam," Sherlock says. "We are professionals."
The short-sighted man at the desk peers at them, frowning as he takes in Sherlock's eccentric apparel, his bow-tie and his hopeful grin. He frowns even more as he moves his stare to John.
"Wait a moment while I check," the man says, turning away from them and picking up some sort of telephone receiver.
John nudges Sherlock in the ribs. "Couldn't you just show his the magic piece of paper?" he hisses.
"Nah," Sherlock replies. "High-security place like this, all of their employees must have some kind of psychic training. Well," he adds after the briefest hesitation, "unless we're very, very lucky. But I'd rather use that luck to convince this lady that we're professionals. Try to look professional, John."
"Wait, high-security?" John asks. he straightens up as best as he can and tries to act as if he knows exactly why they're here, though to be honest he doesn't have the foggiest. "I thought we were just here to see a friend of yours."
"Yes, long story, he might not want to see me," Sherlock replies.
"Why, did you do something to his?"
"Not yet, at least for the next five years," Sherlock says.
John is torn between wanting to ask his more and not wanting to hear an explanation that's very likely to give his a headache.
he's saved when the man at the desk turns back and says, "Mr. Smith, Ms. John, I will need to check your toolkit before letting you downstairs."
"Of course!" Sherlock exclaims, producing a screwdriver from his pocket and handing it over.
The man turns it over in his hands for a couple of seconds before handing it back. "All seems fine. Ms. John?"
"Oh, I'm not carrying one of those," John says, prompting the man to snort and Sherlock to wave his hands around frantically.
"Don't be silly, John, of course you do," he says. "What kind of professional you'd be if you forgot your toolkit?"
He's wiggling his eyebrows, possibly trying to send his some kind of message, but John has no idea of what he wants his to do. Couldn't he have told his earlier about this part of the plan?
At a loss, he puts his hands in his jacket's pockets and finds a ballpoint pen. "Er," he said, holding it up hesitantly.
The man rolls his eyes and snatches it from his hand, only giving it a cursory glance before tossing it back. "You can go," he says, pressing a button to unlock the elevator's door. "Try not to take too long, we're expecting visitors soon."
Before Sherlock can talk his, he's already started another phone call.
John grins. "I can't believe that worked," he says as they walk away from the desk.
"Neither do I," Sherlock replies. "By the way: a ballpoint pen? Seriously?"
"Hey, it's not as if humans go around carrying screwdrivers," John replies defensively. "And it's my favourite pen. It writes in green," he adds.
"Ah, well, in that case," Sherlock says. "Hurry up before they realize that we're not really here for maintenance."
5. Hawaii Five-0, Danny/Steve, Chin, Kono
Steve tilted back his chair to have a better view of the crime board. "So what did you find?" he asked Chin.
Chin glanced at the folder for a moment, mostly to refresh his memory on the names. He hated Russian mobsters for several reasons: the killed people, they gave him lots of work and even more paperwork, and their names were all unpronounceable.
"Well, our man's alibi checks out," he said. "But check this, he's got a best friend who apparently owes our vic a lot of money too and..."
"Stop doing that," Danny snapped. "Right this instant."
Chin looked up and frowned before realizing that the source of Danny's displeasure was, once again, Steve McGarrett.
"What?" Steve asked in his least convincing 'innocent' tone.
Danny snorted and swiveled the chair around to face the writer. "Stop tilting back your chair," he said as if he was speaking to a child. A very naughty one, at that. "You're going to fall and break your head, not that I care, but it'll mean more paperwork for the department."
"I'm not going to fall," Steve replied petulantly.
"I'm going to look into these leads," Chin said quickly, making his retreat before the two started arguing.
He'd just sat down at his desk when he heard a loud thump. Turning around he saw Steve sprawled on the floor and Danny giving him a look that was half smug and half concerned. When she saw that Steve was still alive she launched into a tirade about brainless Navy SEALs without the sense God gave a potato.
Chin shook his head and took the coffee Kono was holding out to him. "Thanks," he said. "Hey, do you think those two realize they're acting like an old married couple?"
"Nah," Kono said. "They have no clue."
Look at that, 5 fics in just one night! I'm awesome, Y/Y?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 03:31 am (UTC)Also, please don't tell
You know, you could probably make your way through all the fandoms with just one vague-enough ficlet...
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 10:21 am (UTC)The trick is: only write two characters, possibly both male to avoid pronoun confusion, and avoid any reference to the show's plot whatsoever. Write 500 words and voilà! You have 20-30 shiny new fics~
I need to refrain from trying it on The Pit.no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 04:46 pm (UTC)Let's see . . . 1 is The Big Bang Theory, 3 is Sherlock, and 4 is Doctor Who. I suspect the other ones are shows I'm not familiar with.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-16 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 03:49 am (UTC)I got #3, but I misseded #1 *headslap*.
#2 is bugging me. I keep getting Angel and Torchwood vibes, but the scenario doesn't fit IIRC. *tries to remember immortal hero/ines*
#5 makes me think of Hetty and Callen on NCIS:LA.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-17 06:57 am (UTC)But I don't watch NCIS.
And feel free to snag, it's not my idea to start with. XD