Aliens made them
Apr. 8th, 2005 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
resonantI'm very fond of "Aliens made them do it" stories. Considered as smut, they've got a lot going for them -- easy method of getting reluctant characters who think they're straight to go to bed together, nice insta-angst afterwards.
Sometimes, though, I can't stop myself from considering them not as smut but as stories.
And then I start thinking: Aliens only ever want slash characters to do four things: Be (or pose as) master and slave; ingest intoxicants; fight; or fuck.
Why not something really useful? Carry water, chop wood, build stuff?
Or something genuinely entertaining? Dance? Sing?
Or, for unfathomable alien reasons, crochet?
Sometimes, though, I can't stop myself from considering them not as smut but as stories.
And then I start thinking: Aliens only ever want slash characters to do four things: Be (or pose as) master and slave; ingest intoxicants; fight; or fuck.
Why not something really useful? Carry water, chop wood, build stuff?
Or something genuinely entertaining? Dance? Sing?
Or, for unfathomable alien reasons, crochet?
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(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 02:36 am (UTC)"My apologies, gentlemen," Fraser replied. "I've just never made a sweater for a Remaran before, and it's been quite a while since I last held a crochet needle. My grandmother taught me during the winters up in Inuvik..."
"Shuuuuut uuuup, eeeaaarthliiiingg," the Remarans hissed, waving their alarmingly large guns at Fraser and Diefenbaker. "Crocheeeeet faaasssteeer, or thee wooolf geeets iiit."
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 02:37 am (UTC)Awww, now. That's not true.
Sometimes they want them to get married.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 02:49 am (UTC)"Better hurry, son. I don't like the look in his eye. That--that is an eye, isn't it?"
"Dad, if you don't mind. I'm trying to concentrate here. . ."
"It's an easy stitch son. The rabbit comes out of the hole, runs around the tree, goes back in the hole and. . . No, no, no, wait, wait, wait. . . It's not a rabbit. It's a squirrel that goes up the tree. . ."
Crazy girl.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 02:54 am (UTC)Jack shoots him a look of pure venom. "Ooops, he says. Ooops. You, you're just working a crochet hook there, buddy. I'm the one knitting the Iramdi's fucking coronation robe over hear. And you keep talking and I keep dropping goddamn stitches."
"Be silent, both of you!" Teal'c's voice is a whipcrack of annoyance. "I fail to see why either of you complains. I was First Prime of Apophis. I have served as a warrior for over ninety of your years, and I am forced to do ... what is this again, Daniel Jackson?"
"Petty Point," Daniel said helpfully.
"It is unbecoming a warrior," Teal'c grumbled. "And I do not understand why Major Carter is elsewhere."
"Celebration of a thousand tongues," Jack said, and there was something wistful in his tone.
"hrm. Girls only, though," Daniel said, his own voice equally wistful.
"But a man can imagine," Jack said. And then, "Shit. Dropped three. Why couldn't the bastard just need new socks for this?"
B
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:15 am (UTC)whoa.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:15 am (UTC)A seven-foot-long black tentacle coiled around Jack's throat. Cold, rather fishy-smelling slime oozed under his collar. The coil tightened for a few breath-stopping seconds, then loosened again. The tentacle retreated. Jack took a shaky breath and scrubbed at his neck with his coat sleeve. It didn't help. The stuff was in his hair now. He'd probably have to shave his head now, dammit, just as those dreadlocks in the back were finally starting to look right.
"All right. Fine. I get the idea. Hand over that ball of yarn, will you? The less slimy one, please."
"I told you it wouldn't work," Norrington muttered, not looking up from his embroidery hoop.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:29 am (UTC)::Ded, ded, ded from the giggles::
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 03:59 am (UTC)But just for you:
Han glanced up in amazement. Jedi endurance. There was no other explanation for it. The kid had a fine singing voice, but no mere mortal could keep tap-dancing for four hours straight.
He swore softly as he dropped the loop again. The tiny print on the chart blurred under his eyes and he traced out the row again. Three filled blocks, two mesh, one filled--oh no. Time to rip again. He let the errant loop stay off the hook and unraveled his last 10 stitches.
Luke had launched into a round of "Syle Ghranadie" and Han caught his loop again.
Stupid alien overlords. Stupid psy-droids and their stupid notiotions of rehabilitation. He hadn't handled a hook since he'd finished that last blanket along with a 90 day stretch in the local lock-up.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 05:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 09:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 09:01 am (UTC)i dies from the fabulousness
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 09:22 am (UTC)"Look, I don't think it gets any stiffer," Daniel protested. "And besides, my wrists are killing me. Surely it's hard enough now?"
Jack cast a hopeful glance over at the blue-green beastie who was orchestrating this little scene, and then scowled as it shook its head. "Daniel, it's hard enough when the nice alien says it's hard enough."
"This is very embarrassing."
"You're telling me," muttered Jack, his own fingers flying.
"I haven't done this since high school, and having to get it right in front of someone else who can wipe out the entire earth if he isn't happy with my work...well, it's not exactly helping me to concentrate, Jack."
Jack glanced over his shoulder and glared at Daniel, his own fingers a blur of speed. "Daniel, if the nice alien tells you to make him a meringue, you're going to damned well make him a meringue. And I'm going to crochet him a new blankie. And then he's going to go about his business like a nice intergalactic Evil Overlord, and leave our planet alone. You remember our planet? Nice trees, good fishing, delicious steaks? Lots of people? Well, if this is what it takes, Daniel, then this is what we're going to do."
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 10:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 11:11 am (UTC)I definitely think they'd make them do stuff like that, entertain them as the two green guys in The Simpsons and Futurama did.
It would be intelligent to have them demand things we consider boring and they get all titillated and aroused ... hmmm!
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 02:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 04:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 05:56 pm (UTC)"Shut it, Fraser," Ray snarled, lighting a new cigarette off the butt end of the old one. He hadn't smoked for years, but he had to do something with his hands. The hook had been gray-green metal, heavier than it looked, cool, smooth except for the raised letters. The balance had been perfect.
"No one thinks less of you because you did what had to be done."
He'd known at the time that they were all watching. Shock, disgust ... envy. He hadn't given a shit. Tension just right, not too tight, not too loose, and the hook flashing over and under, christ, he hadn't forgotten, hadn't forgotten any of it ...
"You did it to save us all."
Ray looked up at Fraser, and whatever was on his face made Fraser step back. He smiled. It didn't feel like a very nice smile.
"It's not because I did it, Fraser," he said, and Fraser was looking at his hands now, just like everybody else did. "It's because I liked it."
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 06:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 06:33 pm (UTC)This is fabulous.
(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 06:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 06:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 4/9/05 06:35 pm (UTC)