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22 November 2012 @ 06:18 pm
The TV Tropes and Cliches Meme  
Give me a number from the list below, a fandom and a character/characters/a pairing and I'll write you a short fic or fic excerpt.

THE TROPES
(with brief explanations. Actual fics will probably vary)

1. Christmas/Holiday Episode
(Happy Christmas and/or Generically Theme Festivites, everyone!)
2. Emergency Baby Delivery
(Oh no, this woman is going to labour in a bank! There's for some reason no time to get to hospital! We have to deliver this child now!)
3. Childhood/Highschool flashback
(Hey, remember that time that thing happened when you were little? No? Maybe these wavy lines and child actors who look a bit like you will help)
4. Trapped in an Elevator
(Damn, we are enclosed in a small space with no way out! This is your fault, other character!)
5. Visit from Relatives
(Oh look, my previously never mentioned sister is here to visit! Good thing I've cleared my schedule for shenanigans.)
6. Outside POV Episode
(Remember that guy who opened the door in episode three? Let's find out his perspective on the main cast.)
7. Fundraiser Carnival
(kissing booths, dunk tanks, etc. It's for charity!)
8. Birthday Party
(Surprise! We totally didn't forget your birthday, silly! We were just being vague and uninterested to hide the fact that we were throwingyou a birthday party!)
9. Vacation Episode
(We're going to Italy! Because... we have some extra money in the budget to film on location somewhere and it wasn't going to be Canada in January.)
10. Temporary Character Replacement
(Oh, is Main Character's actor unavailable? No worries, we'll bring in this secondary character to play his usual archetype. No one will be upset, I'm sure.)

All my usual fandoms are open, anything from the sidebar, and I'm willing to take Cabin Pressure, Merlin (keeping in mind I haven't seen Series 5) and The Avengers out for a spin. Some fandoms might be rusty or shaky, but I'll give them a go.

If you'd like the code for this, you can copy and paste from the box below. I wanted to have the code box in the code but it turned into a picture within a picture within a picture thing a la MC Escher and broke my brain. Feel free to edit in your own preferred tropes, if you want.

THE CODE

Tags:
 
 
 
aelfgyfu_mead: Sherlock and Johnaelfgyfu_mead on November 23rd, 2012 02:16 am (UTC)
Dealer's choice, because I'm torn:
either #2, with Sherlock and Lestrade (not a pairing, just friends!)
or #10, with Sherlock replaced and his friends (John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Molly) and possibly even his brother having to deal with the replacement.
The Writer They Call Tay: SHERLOCK: Watson giggleawanderingbard on November 23rd, 2012 03:05 am (UTC)
I can definitely do 2, and I might be able to do 10 as well, depending on how the muses are feeling. But 2 is definitely happening :-)
The Writer They Call Tay: SHERLOCK: Sherlock shockawanderingbard on November 24th, 2012 12:16 am (UTC)
Part One
Sorry about the delay, a rewrote the first version of this. It got a bit long on me. The more I tried to trim it, the longer it became. Warnings for... babies being delivered, though I assume you expected that.

Special Delivery


“You are getting amniotic fluid all over my crime scene,” Sherlock complained.

“You can fuck right off,” Jodie replied.

Lestrade decided he liked her.

She was probably still in her teens and, from what Lestrade had managed to get out of her between moans and screams, unmarried and probably unsupported. She worked at the restaurant they were in and the owner was letting her the flat above it. London was currently being hit with the worst snowstorm in twenty years and she'd come down to batten down the hatches before the storm swept in. She was therefore present when the restaurant was broken in to and ransacked. She'd hid in the loo and was undetected by the intruders, but she didn't have a mobile to call for help and was too scared to leave even after they'd gone. The stress had also brought on labour. Sherlock and Lestrade had found her when Sherlock dragged Lestrade there as part of an investigation he'd insisted on continuing, despite the storm. She was already well into labour by that point and her water had broken.

The 999 operator couldn't give them a definitive answer on when someone could get there. The city was in a mass panic, as it always was when there was snow and there were 999 calls coming in from all over. She couldn't even stay on the line to help, they were so busy. Her only advice had been that women were built to give birth and 'if in doubt, do nothing'.

Oh, and John Watson was in bed with double pneumonia and wasn't answering his mobile.

So far, Lestrade thought, they were handling things pretty well. Sherlock especially, he had a brain built for problem solving. He'd managed to patch up the broken window with a menu board and gaffer tape to keep some of the snow out, suggested they turn on the ovens to heat the place up a little and had procured clean tablecloths and a packet of cleaning gloves for sanitation purposes. He was also Googling how to deliver a baby on his mobile, just in case.

“This is rubbish,” Jodie declared. “It is absolute and complete rubbish. You would not believe how much this hurts. Seriously, it is mindblowing. God!”

Lestrade offered her soothing words as she went through another contraction. They were less than two minutes apart and, according to Sherlock's research, that meant delivery was imminent.

“I really, really need to push,” she said. “Really. God! Augh!”

Sherlock shot her an annoyed look. “I told you to remain calm,” he said. “Stop screaming—you're expending energy.”

Jodie's response came in the form of several loud screams and a flurry of hysterical tears. Lestrade was doing his best to sooth her, but she wasn't having any of it. He didn't blame her.

“Stop that,” Sherlock ordered. “You are not helping yourself. You are a healthy young woman who has reached full term. You clearly have not had any trouble reaching active labour. There is no reason to believe that anything is going to go wrong now. You need to concentrate on remaining calm and slowing down the labour as much as possible. You're being extremely unreasonable. Everything is going to be fine. Do you understand?”

For some reason, this harsh speech—pretty polite for Sherlock, really—had some affect on Jodie and she started to calm down somewhat.

“Save your screaming for if you have to push,” Sherlock advised. “Otherwise you're just wasting energy. Blow out through your mouth. If you have to push, do it between contractions. That will help slow things down, apparently.”

Lestrade wondered if anything put Sherlock out of his element. He was calm and collected and organized, like he delivered babies in snowstorms everyday. Lestrade was really only good for keeping her distracted and holding her hand.

Despite Sherlock's direction, it became apparent that the baby was coming before the ambulance. Sherlock now looked just a little worried, but he swallowed and covered it up.

“Are you sure you want to catch?” Lestrade asked him.

“Do you really think I should be the one to comfort?” he replied.

“Yeah, okay, you catch,” Lestrade said.
The Writer They Call Tay: Sherlock: Lestrade shadesawanderingbard on November 24th, 2012 12:17 am (UTC)
Re: Part Two
Sherlock, glancing down at the instructions on the mobile every few seconds, managed to talk her through pushing. Lestrade's hands were crushed in to tiny, tiny pieces and for some reason, he received the brunt of the insults, swearing, and swatting.

"Head is out and rotated," Sherlock announced. "One more gentle push."

Then there was a baby. A very tiny, very real, very yucky looking baby.

"Is it a boy?" Jodie asked. "It's supposed to be a boy. Is it a boy? Is it okay? Why isn't he crying?"

"It's a boy," Sherlock confirmed. He wiped some of the mucus from the baby's nose and placed him on her stomach, rubbing his back firmly with a tablecloth. "Give him a second." The baby started to wail and Jodie laughed hysterically and Lestrade joined in. Even Sherlock cracked a relieved smile at this point, though it was quickly hidden.

"Congratulations," Lestrade said.

"Oh, he's so pretty. Look at him. He's so pretty. Isn't he pretty?" Jodie cooed.

Lestrade helped her down out of her crouch against the wall, so she could hold him properly. He wrapped them both up in a tablecloth to keep them warm. Sherlock fashioned a sort of turban hat out of a napkin for the baby's head.

"It says not to cut the cord," he said. "Just to wait. Try to have skin-to-skin contact."

“Any names picked out?” Lestrade asked.

“Liam is his first name,” Jodie said. “For my dad. No middle names, though. What's your first name, again?”

"Greg--Gregory," Lestrade said.

“Hmmm, that's nice,” she said. “What does that mean? Do you know?”

“Uh... watchful, I think,” Lestrade said. “Or alert? Something like that.”

“How very unapropos,” Sherlock muttered. Lestrade shot him a glare.

Sherlock's mobile rang. He frowned and pulled off a glove to answer it.

"What's his name?" Jodie asked.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said.

"Sherlock...Sherlock," she tried.

"Yes, John, I'm aware I called you six times," Sherlock said, into the phone. "Don't state the obvious....I can't understand you, stop coughing...Yes, I'm fine, I've just delivered a baby... yes, 'seriously'... Yes... Yes... I've done that... I've done that too...Yes, and that...You're not being any use, John, go back to bed." He firmly ended the call.

"You probably don't want to name your son after him," Lestrade said.

Jodie nodded, slowly. "Yeah. I think you're right."

The ambulance arrived about five minutes later and Lestrade relinquished responsibility to the attendants. Jodie promised keep in touch with Lestrade to let him know how the baby was doing. Sherlock managed a brief wave as Jodie and Liam were ushered out on the trolley.

He was already back to investigating the crime scene.
aelfgyfu_mead: brilliantaelfgyfu_mead on November 24th, 2012 12:55 am (UTC)
Re: Part Two
Yes! I was howling already by the second line; perfect! I'm glad Greg was there to offer Jodie some sympathy (and keep her from giving the baby 'Sherlock' as his middle name). She held her own, though:
“You are getting amniotic fluid all over my crime scene,” Sherlock complained.
“You can fuck right off,” Jodie replied.


It would be too easy if John could have just talked him through it, of course.

Thank you!

Edited at 2012-11-24 12:55 am (UTC)
The Writer They Call Tay: DH: Random Happenstanceawanderingbard on November 24th, 2012 01:39 am (UTC)
Re: Part Two
My original version did have John on the mobile, talking them through, but he ended up being too much in the way and I kept forgetting he was there and it wasn't working. In the original, however, she decided on Liam Gregory John, because she liked 'the bloke on the phone' more than Sherlock.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for the great prompt!
rodlox: going to hugrodlox on November 24th, 2012 05:38 am (UTC)
Re: Part One
>“Do you really think I should be the one to comfort?” he replied.
yeah, that definately wins a prize for scariest thought of the month.
Astoundingly fond of avocados and rainy weather.: ST_Captain'sChairguardian_chaos on November 24th, 2012 05:35 am (UTC)
Feel like writing some Harry + Bob, #2? I think that could be an amusing, yet panic-filled scenario. :D

Edited at 2012-11-24 05:35 am (UTC)
The Writer They Call Tay: Dresden: bad dayawanderingbard on November 24th, 2012 04:06 pm (UTC)
Fic excerpt for you!

Hot Water and Broken Fingers


"Uh, so I guess calling an ambulance is out of the question?" I asked, watching the changeling sort of crawling on her hands and knees around my living room. It seemed to be helping with the pain, so I let her go to it. At least she'd stopped screaming in tongues. That was scary.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Bob agreed.

"Do faerie's give birth the same way as us?" I asked.

"Yes," Bob said. "Only they do it in the Nevernever so the experience is slightly more...primal."

"Ouch," I said, with a wince. "No wonder they're so pissed off all the time. So, presumably a half-fae giving birth to a three-quarter fae works the same way."

"I would assume so," Bob said.

"Right," I said.

There was a long pause during which we both watched Poppy continue to crawl around, moaning softly and taking deep breaths in and out.

"So...I'm going to have to deliver a baby. In my apartment. With a ghost for a midwife," I said. "Yeah. Sounds like me. Do you have any idea how to deliver a baby?"

Bob, for once in his undead life, looked completely baffled. "It was not something that men participated in in my day," he said. "And most of my masters since were more interested in destroying life than creating it."

"Okay," I said. "So, do you think now's a good time to start panicking?"

Bob nodded. "Yes. I would say it's perfect."


Edited at 2012-11-24 04:23 pm (UTC)
Astoundingly fond of avocados and rainy weather.: TemptingFateguardian_chaos on November 28th, 2012 06:25 am (UTC)
AAAAHHHH! This is perfect! Hee! Those poor guys, trapped in their living room with a screeching, crawling changeling. That does sound utterly terrifying. And how like Harry, to adapt on the fly like this whole situation is, of all things, normal. That's very telling of his general life experiences, I think.

And Bob is also wonderful. I love him when you write him. He's so dignified and yet out-of-his-depth here; it's great. I kind of picture Bob going through this whole thing rather disoriented, shouting encouragement and making wild shoveling gestures to Harry with his arms as if to indicate childbirth. And Harry would have to shout, "Not really helping!" in return, while Bob just goes pale and sniffs imperiously.

Ah, I love these two. Thank you. :)
rodlox: Harry Dresdenrodlox on November 24th, 2012 05:36 am (UTC)
I had the evil thought of #4, with Dr. Bruce Banner, and either Murphy or the Archive.
(or #2)
The Writer They Call Tay: IM: Tony Stark is awesomeawanderingbard on November 24th, 2012 04:34 pm (UTC)
The Downfalls of Technology


"I think this building was supposed to be high tech?" Murphy complained, jabbing at the buttons on the elevator wall repeatedly.

"Please stop poking me, I am doing my best to repair the situation," the elevator said, in a posh British accent. "Please remain calm."

Murphy had moved well-past thinking a talking building was cool and was now firmly into 'shut up, you posh bastard!' territory. She let her hands drop from the buttons and moved to the back of the elevator.

"The problem with all technology is that it can fail," Banner said, in a Philisophical tone. "No matter how advanced it is." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Don't tell Tony I said that. He'll be insulted."

Murphy glanced over at him, trying to judge his mood. If she had to choose someone she'd least like to be stuck in an enclosed space with it would be a man who turned into a deadly monster when he was feeling grumpy. Well, him and her ex-husband.

"I'm calm," he told her, without her asking. "I'm not claustrophobic. Neither is the Other Guy. Jarvis usually gets himself together pretty fast. It will be fine."

"Sorry," Murphy said. "I don't mean to be--"

"Scared?" Banner said. "It's fine. I'm used to it."

He reminded her of Dresden in a lot of ways. Sort of shy and quiet, but capable of doing insane things and absolutely terrified of what he might do with those things. It wasn't surprising that she'd befriended him during this case. Him and Rogers were the only ones she didn't want to punch in the face. She wished the Avengers would go back to New York and leave her city alone. It was enough trouble to deal with wizards and monsters, without a bunch of superheroes joining in the fray.

"I have assessed the situation and have calculated it will take approximately half an hour to resume normal operations," the elevator said. "I suggest you sit and relax."

"Thanks Jarvis," Banner said, before Murphy could snap something far less polite.

Both Murphy and Banner took a seat on the floor. Banner opened a panel in the wall and pulled out a StarkPad.

"It's supposed to be for emergency rerouting of power and stuff like that," he explained, flicking it on. "But I think I can get it to play games. How are you at Scrabble?"

"How does the Other Guy feel about losing?" she asked.

"He can handle it," Banner said, with a smile.

She grinned back. "Then I'm going to kick your ass."
rodlox: handsrodlox on November 24th, 2012 06:38 pm (UTC)
this was fantastic. I reallly love their friendship (even borne in what may have been utter disaster)

>"Please stop poking me,
:)

>"He can handle it," Banner said, with a smile.
and probably knowing she's the first person to actually care enough to ask.
The Writer They Call Tay: CP: Arthur is happy - a lotawanderingbard on November 25th, 2012 04:26 am (UTC)
You always give me prompts where I sort of flail around going 'I can't!' And then I do and I'm always really pleased with the results. So thank you for that! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :-)
rodlox: going to hugrodlox on November 25th, 2012 04:34 am (UTC)
>And then I do
such is proof of the heights of your skill.

I can't remember you ever writing something I didn't enjoy.

(I'm doing this meme as well, as well as the December ficlets meme; if you'd like to make requests)