A -House- of One's Own
With windows, and doors, and walls, and plumbing, and rooms, and a yard, and oh my god, I'm about to own my own house.
I'm changing locales in August - I've known that since I moved to New Orleans to start work, three weeks before Katrina. Two years have -flown- by, and sometime in March, I started seriously considering the impending move back ( Read more... )
I'm changing locales in August - I've known that since I moved to New Orleans to start work, three weeks before Katrina. Two years have -flown- by, and sometime in March, I started seriously considering the impending move back ( Read more... )
Comments 47
And, um, is it presumptuous for me to ask? If you feel like it, something SGA. I'm not sure of your pairings, but anything with John and Rodney always makes me happy. Or whatever, Sumner/Weir or anything with Teyla. Um, prompt. Bad habit.
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John's never met someone with as many tells as Rodney. It's strange to know someone whose every emotion broadcasts in technicolor - and polyphonic - glory. It's reassuring to rely on Rodney's bad habits - sarcasm, belligerence, wild gestures - to rank situations somewhere between moderately-concerned and mind-numbingly-screwed. Rodney's tone as he fights to bring nuke-laden jumpers online tells John they've left mind-numbingly-screwed in the dust. John understands what that means, so he's off and running. Were he a better person, he'd have found better words than "So long, Rodney," but then, John has his own bad habits.
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Perfect that is! You're good at this drabble thing. :)
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Prompt: I would like Rodney and John build a summer house on the mainland and get a puppy.
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They've had the house on the mainland for three years, and the only reason Rodney doesn't hijack the jumper and leave John there is because he's gotten used to cold feet tangling with his every night. Still, Rodney barely manages not to stalk out of the two-room hovel-but-okay-a-vacation-hovel when, early in the morning, a furry-cold-nosed-and-despite-that-clearly-not-John wakes him up by licking his face. Once the immediate terror recedes, he focuses on John, who's incandescent with please-please-he-followed-me-home joy, which, Rodney swears, is the only reason he caves, muttering, "you're lucky you're cute." They both know he doesn't mean the puppy.
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Congrats again on the homestead!
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Also, congrats!
I prompt you...Cadman. Cadman and Things That Go Boom.
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For a long time, Laura wasn't sure she and Carson could possibly work. She liked adrenaline, explosions, kinetics. Carson... didn't. Curled around him in bed, however, splintered into a hundred thousand tiny pieces and fighting for air, she felt his hands ghost over her hips and began to reconsider. "You're a filthy rotten liar," she gasped, and he chuckled, sweet and low.
"I never said I didn't like making things go boom," he murmured, and she shivered, as his clever, clever hands gathered her in, started building her up even higher. "You just never asked me what."
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Seriously, this is fantastic. Incredibly fantastic. Go you!
I'm going to friend, if you don't mind, because your writing made me go "DUDE" and I scanned and read the others below and somehow, you made me not mind the slash. This must be friended so I can figure out HOW YOU DID IT.
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Seriously, I'm so glad you liked it - and thank you for the WONDERFUL compliment. Friend away - new people always welcome!
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I want Weir/Sumner! On Earth! At his bungalow! Or Elizabeth taking over his bungalow. Something.
I promise I will not be AWOL soon. *HUGS*
CONGRATULATIONS! I can't wait to have you close!
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(Also, thanks!! Here - have a mini-tag/missing scene from Home.)
Mack won't talk about what the mist creatures made him see. He knows it wasn't really her, not when he's heard about her fruitless fight to get back to Atlantis. He doesn't want to confess that he took his imaginary retirement with a lot less protest. But faced with the prospect of Elizabeth, wearing his shirt, rumpled and smiling and languid with afterglow, smiling at him in the early morning sunshine on the porch of his bungalow... well. He's man enough to admit that part of him would've died happy. He just prefers to keep it to himself.
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Prompt: SGA1 is on a mission and a critter has just crawled up the leg of ROdney's pants... Pref. gen please. :)
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This is such nonsense - I hope it fits the bill!
John rolls his eyes. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard."
"We read you. We're a little... confused." Elizabeth sounds carefully neutral.
"What could possibly be confusing?" Rodney shrieks, clinging to the branch, glaring at the lizard-thing molesting his pants on the ground below. "It crawled up my pants. It wouldn't leave."
"We must complete the trade mission," Teyla continues, "and Doctor McKay's skills are part of our bargain. But he cannot enter the town so... under-dressed, and the sacred goanda will attack if disturbed."
"Pants," says Ronon. "Send 'em through."
Zelenka's so coming next time, Rodney vows.
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Ahahaha! Thank you! I love it! :)
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