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crack_van2006-06-28 01:17 pm
tatkreiswok.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-06-28 01:17 pm
Entry tags:
No Lothario by Francesca (NC-17)
Call this my “OFR” (Obligatory Francesca Rec), but it’s nearly impossible to talk about stellar “Sentinel” stories without mentioning Francesca. She, along with a few others, have elevated the art, and helped evolve the way guys are written in fanfic. While many delight in how good her serials are, I think she achieves better impact in her shorter, one-shot stories. Maybe it’s because of the economy of language used, or her ability to write guys as “guys,” either way, I think this one is character study at its best. And the sex is scorching without being prettied-up in any way.
Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cesperanza
Author Website: Francesca’s Sentinel Fiction – Like Men, Only Better
Why this must be read:
In spite of the canonical fact that Jim is a detective with heightened senses, it’s surprisingly rare to read a story where those two defined traits are seamlessly integrated into a story. And Blair… That obfuscator, that girl-crazy, neo-hippie witchdoctor punk? The guy who plays to labels, and against them…? Can you capture all of that in a brief story, make it get under your skin, and still make it hot? You can if you’re Francesca. Here, she does it effortlessly...
Blair is a magnet for trouble. No wonder he’s gotten into a minor fistfight on a night out on the town, and walked away with a shiner and a few cuts and bruises. No big deal; life in the big city, right? Then why does his story about how it happened smell a bit fishy to Jim?
"Tilt your head back," Jim directed, and Blair obeyed and stared up at the ceiling.
"Fucking animal," Jim muttered, carefully putting the gauze into position. "Don't move--I'm gonna tape it."
"Okay," Blair said, and kept his head back, looking up at the ceiling.
Jim cut a piece of tape, then carefully taped the first of the four sides into place.
"Where'd this go down, anyway?" he asked, ripping a second piece of tape with his teeth.
Blair hesitated for just a second, but that second was enough, and Jim froze.
Holy shit. This whole story was a crock!
"Greenstreet's," Blair was saying. "Over on Third." Which only proved the point. Greenstreet's--this kind of shit didn't happen at Greenstreet's. Greenstreet's had a yuppie clientele--young lawyers working late and getting trashed in their snazzy suits, doing blow in the bathroom. He couldn't see one of those guys beating Blair up like this. Those guys were all fucking talk. Fucking lawyers.
And suddenly he just knew that this whole damn thing was a crock. Jesus Christ, Sandburg was cagey! He'd almost gone for it, too. Hell, Sandburg was good--just enough detail, reluctantly admitting that he'd looked. Very good, really, the little bastard.
No Lothario
Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Author on LJ:
cesperanzaAuthor Website: Francesca’s Sentinel Fiction – Like Men, Only Better
Why this must be read:
In spite of the canonical fact that Jim is a detective with heightened senses, it’s surprisingly rare to read a story where those two defined traits are seamlessly integrated into a story. And Blair… That obfuscator, that girl-crazy, neo-hippie witchdoctor punk? The guy who plays to labels, and against them…? Can you capture all of that in a brief story, make it get under your skin, and still make it hot? You can if you’re Francesca. Here, she does it effortlessly...
Blair is a magnet for trouble. No wonder he’s gotten into a minor fistfight on a night out on the town, and walked away with a shiner and a few cuts and bruises. No big deal; life in the big city, right? Then why does his story about how it happened smell a bit fishy to Jim?
"Tilt your head back," Jim directed, and Blair obeyed and stared up at the ceiling.
"Fucking animal," Jim muttered, carefully putting the gauze into position. "Don't move--I'm gonna tape it."
"Okay," Blair said, and kept his head back, looking up at the ceiling.
Jim cut a piece of tape, then carefully taped the first of the four sides into place.
"Where'd this go down, anyway?" he asked, ripping a second piece of tape with his teeth.
Blair hesitated for just a second, but that second was enough, and Jim froze.
Holy shit. This whole story was a crock!
"Greenstreet's," Blair was saying. "Over on Third." Which only proved the point. Greenstreet's--this kind of shit didn't happen at Greenstreet's. Greenstreet's had a yuppie clientele--young lawyers working late and getting trashed in their snazzy suits, doing blow in the bathroom. He couldn't see one of those guys beating Blair up like this. Those guys were all fucking talk. Fucking lawyers.
And suddenly he just knew that this whole damn thing was a crock. Jesus Christ, Sandburg was cagey! He'd almost gone for it, too. Hell, Sandburg was good--just enough detail, reluctantly admitting that he'd looked. Very good, really, the little bastard.
No Lothario