i come back to the place you are
I took that "Who is your tv boyfriend?" quiz and without cheating came up with Jim Halpert. He's not Dean, who would have been my first choice (though I imagine Dean would need a lot of retraining to become boyfriend material) but I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers. I mean, JIM! SO CUTE AND FUNNY! YAY!
Then I took that "Which BSG character are you?" quiz and without cheating came up as Kara Thrace. I ... don't even know what to do with that, except I guess picking the "who needs a serious relationship?" and "drink until you can't drink no more" options were keyed to her instead of, like, Tigh. I really thought I'd be Helo, to be honest. Though I am not near as noble as Helo, nor do I have such awesome arms. I bet Helo gives the best hugs. Sigh.
***
This morning, I was thinking about the sekrit incest baby fic, as you do, and it's up to 2500 words now ([tan] I reopened the original girl!Sam AU (which was originally titled "What Is and What Should Never Be" and I had to change it after WIAWSNB aired. Sigh.) that got backburnered by Beggars and it is over 6K words long and I think I may finish it soon. [/tan]), and all I could think this morning was that there is no reason on earth for Sam to keep this baby, and yet she does. I mean, let's look at the situation here:
1. she's on the run from the FBI
2. at the time she discovers the pregnancy - just post-BUaBS - she's still on the run from the YED
3. her brother is the father
4. she's run off from Dean in a fit of self-flagellatory angst and by the time she decides she wants to come back, the FBI has driven him so far off the grid even she can't track him down.
5. she is pretty much without any emotional support system beyond Bobby and Ellen, to whom she cannot reveal that Dean is the father of her baby.
Sam should be demanding an abortion the moment the doctor tells her she's pregnant.
And yet. And yet. The lure of the sekrit incest baby reveal ("Johnny, this is your daddy!") and, of course, the reunionating that comes after, has made me disregard all common sense. Of course, the way I've written the story, none of that is actually in it, because even I couldn't manage to handwave all of that in the actual telling. Never let it be said I don't take the easy way out. Or let reality intrude on the awesomeness of the sekrit incest baby concept.
I...I am still not sure when I became the kind of person who uses "awesome" and "sekrit incest baby" in the same sentence. I blame Dean. And Katee Sackhoff. And V.C. Andrews.
At least I own my id?
*facepalm*
***
As I may have mentioned last weekend, on Sunday and Monday morning (I had Monday off, remember), I woke to the sounds of workmen in the hallway of my building. I generally leave the house for work each day at around 8:25 am. I saw neither hide nor hair of any workmen from Tuesday through Friday, though the lower half of the hallway is now painted a heinous orange color that reminds me of my last apartment, which had last been painted sometime in the 1970s. this morning at 8 am, I woke to the sound of workmen in the hallway outside my apartment.
What the fucking fuck? Who has workmen come on the WEEKEND, when people like to SLEEP IN, instead of durnig the week when most of us are gone to work and not around to be disturbed by drilling, sanding, and random cursing in Chinese? Oh, management company, how you fail.
***
Then I took that "Which BSG character are you?" quiz and without cheating came up as Kara Thrace. I ... don't even know what to do with that, except I guess picking the "who needs a serious relationship?" and "drink until you can't drink no more" options were keyed to her instead of, like, Tigh. I really thought I'd be Helo, to be honest. Though I am not near as noble as Helo, nor do I have such awesome arms. I bet Helo gives the best hugs. Sigh.
***
This morning, I was thinking about the sekrit incest baby fic, as you do, and it's up to 2500 words now ([tan] I reopened the original girl!Sam AU (which was originally titled "What Is and What Should Never Be" and I had to change it after WIAWSNB aired. Sigh.) that got backburnered by Beggars and it is over 6K words long and I think I may finish it soon. [/tan]), and all I could think this morning was that there is no reason on earth for Sam to keep this baby, and yet she does. I mean, let's look at the situation here:
1. she's on the run from the FBI
2. at the time she discovers the pregnancy - just post-BUaBS - she's still on the run from the YED
3. her brother is the father
4. she's run off from Dean in a fit of self-flagellatory angst and by the time she decides she wants to come back, the FBI has driven him so far off the grid even she can't track him down.
5. she is pretty much without any emotional support system beyond Bobby and Ellen, to whom she cannot reveal that Dean is the father of her baby.
Sam should be demanding an abortion the moment the doctor tells her she's pregnant.
And yet. And yet. The lure of the sekrit incest baby reveal ("Johnny, this is your daddy!") and, of course, the reunionating that comes after, has made me disregard all common sense. Of course, the way I've written the story, none of that is actually in it, because even I couldn't manage to handwave all of that in the actual telling. Never let it be said I don't take the easy way out. Or let reality intrude on the awesomeness of the sekrit incest baby concept.
I...I am still not sure when I became the kind of person who uses "awesome" and "sekrit incest baby" in the same sentence. I blame Dean. And Katee Sackhoff. And V.C. Andrews.
At least I own my id?
*facepalm*
***
As I may have mentioned last weekend, on Sunday and Monday morning (I had Monday off, remember), I woke to the sounds of workmen in the hallway of my building. I generally leave the house for work each day at around 8:25 am. I saw neither hide nor hair of any workmen from Tuesday through Friday, though the lower half of the hallway is now painted a heinous orange color that reminds me of my last apartment, which had last been painted sometime in the 1970s. this morning at 8 am, I woke to the sound of workmen in the hallway outside my apartment.
What the fucking fuck? Who has workmen come on the WEEKEND, when people like to SLEEP IN, instead of durnig the week when most of us are gone to work and not around to be disturbed by drilling, sanding, and random cursing in Chinese? Oh, management company, how you fail.
***