ext_7876 (
taraljc.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2004-07-10 03:19 pm
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Friday Night Drinking Games by Troll Princess (PG)
Fandom: JAKE 2.0
Pairing: Jake/Rogue
Author on LJ:
trollprincess
Author Website: trollprincess' fanfic stash
Why this must be read: Okay, I admit it. X-MEN Movieverse isn't one of my fandoms. I never read Marvel comics as a kid. But I love this little Jake/Rogue story. I'm familiar enough with the character (thanks to the movies and the Fox cartoon from the 1990s) and I like how these two get along. I'm not 100% wild about spelling out Rogue's accent, but I've been told that this is a comics thing and that I need to just roll with it, so I do, and I have a screamingly good time. The banter is adorable, and perfectly in character, and this is just a delightful romp which manages to blend two universes quite seamlessly.
The last thing that went through Jake Foley's mind when he was thrown out of the airplane, aside from that he should have grabbed a parachute on the way out, was that he wasn't sure he wanted to know if the nanites had a solution for being flung bodily out of an airliner at 25,000 feet.
He winced as a mental image of giant metal wings suddenly sprouting from his back popped into his head. Okay, he definitely needed to lay off watching the Sci-Fi Channel.
A chill wind swirled around Jake as he fell, tugging at his skin and whipping his hair into a frenzy. He tried to think of an option which didn't end with his body slamming into the pavement and being shipped back to Diane in a paper lunch bag for intensive study, but he definitely wasn't that creative.
Okay, this right here? This was bad. This was such an incredible level of bad, Michael Jackson would have been jealous.
Jeez, even his jokes were getting worse.
Jake briefly contemplated calling Diane on his cell phone and asking if he'd survive a squishing at the speed of gravity, but he was pretty sure the answer would be a solid no. Besides, if he was about to die, he didn't want his last words to involve questioning if having itty bitty computers in his bloodstream meant he'd also had a rocket shoved up his ass. And if he could help it, screaming and whimpering weren't going to make his rather short list of options, either.
If he really were creative, he supposed he could take mental control of the airplane's steering and fly the thing close enough to catch him. Of course, that could also result in him splattering against the inner wall of a jet full of explosives instead of a cornfield.
So, yeah. Maybe not.
Jake took a deep breath and mentally prepared for his far too early demise, suddenly grateful that it wasn't going to be from the nanites flipping out and making his head explode.
And that was when the train hit him.
Funny, how the train was a mile or so above ground level. And also, how the train had an impressive set of breasts.
Friday Night Drinking Games
Pairing: Jake/Rogue
Author on LJ:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Author Website: trollprincess' fanfic stash
Why this must be read: Okay, I admit it. X-MEN Movieverse isn't one of my fandoms. I never read Marvel comics as a kid. But I love this little Jake/Rogue story. I'm familiar enough with the character (thanks to the movies and the Fox cartoon from the 1990s) and I like how these two get along. I'm not 100% wild about spelling out Rogue's accent, but I've been told that this is a comics thing and that I need to just roll with it, so I do, and I have a screamingly good time. The banter is adorable, and perfectly in character, and this is just a delightful romp which manages to blend two universes quite seamlessly.
The last thing that went through Jake Foley's mind when he was thrown out of the airplane, aside from that he should have grabbed a parachute on the way out, was that he wasn't sure he wanted to know if the nanites had a solution for being flung bodily out of an airliner at 25,000 feet.
He winced as a mental image of giant metal wings suddenly sprouting from his back popped into his head. Okay, he definitely needed to lay off watching the Sci-Fi Channel.
A chill wind swirled around Jake as he fell, tugging at his skin and whipping his hair into a frenzy. He tried to think of an option which didn't end with his body slamming into the pavement and being shipped back to Diane in a paper lunch bag for intensive study, but he definitely wasn't that creative.
Okay, this right here? This was bad. This was such an incredible level of bad, Michael Jackson would have been jealous.
Jeez, even his jokes were getting worse.
Jake briefly contemplated calling Diane on his cell phone and asking if he'd survive a squishing at the speed of gravity, but he was pretty sure the answer would be a solid no. Besides, if he was about to die, he didn't want his last words to involve questioning if having itty bitty computers in his bloodstream meant he'd also had a rocket shoved up his ass. And if he could help it, screaming and whimpering weren't going to make his rather short list of options, either.
If he really were creative, he supposed he could take mental control of the airplane's steering and fly the thing close enough to catch him. Of course, that could also result in him splattering against the inner wall of a jet full of explosives instead of a cornfield.
So, yeah. Maybe not.
Jake took a deep breath and mentally prepared for his far too early demise, suddenly grateful that it wasn't going to be from the nanites flipping out and making his head explode.
And that was when the train hit him.
Funny, how the train was a mile or so above ground level. And also, how the train had an impressive set of breasts.
Friday Night Drinking Games