rec
From time to time, it's scary to see the leeway you have with friends.
And especially with writer-friends.
I asked Auburn, jokingly, to write me happy fic in order to make up for her dark stories, and then, suddenly ... she did. I'm still in awe.
And you know, if you remember Bag Wigs, Black Leather and Guns ... You so totally don't want to pass Zelenka's Still.
Summarised as: Just another typical day with Ancient porn, flying blue platypus-things and karaoke. Meep!
Why? Oh, come on. First of all, it's Auburn, so nyah. How often does she write humour? And, second of all?
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Something crashed in the kitchen and a string of imaginative curses followed.
Sheppard had never known scientists had that sort of vocabulary before becoming acquainted with Atlantis' scientists. Some of McKay's people, particularly Simpson, could make a Marine DI blush. Pettiwitz wasn't in that class, but he still managed an impressive volume. The key was creativity and avoiding repetition.
Ford backed out of the kitchen, holding his hands up in front of him. "I'm sorry, okay? I just said-"
Something that might have been a donut or a bagel-no one was sure what Poupadoupalus' efforts yesterday had actually been meant to be-whizzed out the kitchen door. Ford ducked fast and it landed with a gluttonous splash in the pot of oatmeal still sitting out on the warming table.
"-raisins aren't supposed to move!" Ford finished.
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Oh, and of course, this:
"Deep in the bowels-"
"Bowels?"
"Don't interrupt me. Deep in the depths of Atlantis, our intrepid heroes-well, one intrepid, one hypochondriac-continued their exploration of the mad scientists' lair-"
"I resent that. I am not a hypochondriac. I have allergies and a hypoglycemic condition. Also, deep in the depths?"
"You're harshing my vibe, McKay."
"I'm-what? Don't try to be cool, Major. It doesn't work."
"Fine." Sheppard pouted. "You're wrecking the mood."
"What mood? I'm trying to get some work done. You-you, I have no idea what you're doing, besides annoying me," McKay said. "Which I suppose means you're wrecking my mood."
Now, really. Go. Read.
And especially with writer-friends.
I asked Auburn, jokingly, to write me happy fic in order to make up for her dark stories, and then, suddenly ... she did. I'm still in awe.
And you know, if you remember Bag Wigs, Black Leather and Guns ... You so totally don't want to pass Zelenka's Still.
Summarised as: Just another typical day with Ancient porn, flying blue platypus-things and karaoke. Meep!
Why? Oh, come on. First of all, it's Auburn, so nyah. How often does she write humour? And, second of all?
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Something crashed in the kitchen and a string of imaginative curses followed.
Sheppard had never known scientists had that sort of vocabulary before becoming acquainted with Atlantis' scientists. Some of McKay's people, particularly Simpson, could make a Marine DI blush. Pettiwitz wasn't in that class, but he still managed an impressive volume. The key was creativity and avoiding repetition.
Ford backed out of the kitchen, holding his hands up in front of him. "I'm sorry, okay? I just said-"
Something that might have been a donut or a bagel-no one was sure what Poupadoupalus' efforts yesterday had actually been meant to be-whizzed out the kitchen door. Ford ducked fast and it landed with a gluttonous splash in the pot of oatmeal still sitting out on the warming table.
"-raisins aren't supposed to move!" Ford finished.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Oh, and of course, this:
"Deep in the bowels-"
"Bowels?"
"Don't interrupt me. Deep in the depths of Atlantis, our intrepid heroes-well, one intrepid, one hypochondriac-continued their exploration of the mad scientists' lair-"
"I resent that. I am not a hypochondriac. I have allergies and a hypoglycemic condition. Also, deep in the depths?"
"You're harshing my vibe, McKay."
"I'm-what? Don't try to be cool, Major. It doesn't work."
"Fine." Sheppard pouted. "You're wrecking the mood."
"What mood? I'm trying to get some work done. You-you, I have no idea what you're doing, besides annoying me," McKay said. "Which I suppose means you're wrecking my mood."
Now, really. Go. Read.