Here's what you need to understand. Every once in a while, a journal entry comes along that's really about the triumph of the human spirit, points of light holding back the dark, all that stuff. If you're truly lucky, that post is mostly about
the dutiful bedding of Atlantean women, by Ronon Dex, aged 23 and 1/4I don't even, um. I. Knot of the
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Really, actually, that might be his first inkling that he's got it all wrong.
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Tell me now, mother o'fic. If I wasn't so damn lazy, I totally would have typed up this other thing I thought of tonight, but I don't want to tear away a Serious Sociological Point from you.
Ah. I wish there was Tone of Voice in typing. Read this as, Interested Collaborator, or possibly Derivative Artist - and not Defensive McHostile, which is how I am afraid it reads.
See (my mad linkin' skillz at use here) this thought:
Ronon! FirstBinding!
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Try this one:
This is a link to my journal!
http://jssangel.livejournal.com/5824.html?thread=90048#t90048
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Nah, I don't care, just nattering. I mean, maybe Ronon developed kind of late, so other people his age had already had their first binding, and he was tall but lurchy and skinny (and, seriously, how knobby-kneed must Ronon have been at 13?)
Ah. I wish there was Tone of Voice in typing. Read this as, Interested Collaborator, or possibly Derivative Artist - and not Defensive McHostile, which is how I am afraid it reads.
It does not! The whole fake laced pants is so awesome, also. In other news, maybe Ronon wonders what people on earth do once they're men, and all, and Rodney and John are TOTALLY unhelpful, all "uhh, get drunk? Build a stereo cabinet?"
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You have to put together your (potential) girlfriends flat-fold furnishings to prove that you are a suitable house-husband. (Or so Ronon assumes. LOL)
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