pants to match

I'm trying to think of what to write next. My Spencer-at-the-beach isn't quite ready to post, but I really want to start some sort of light-hearted Brendon piece and I can't decide what angle to take. So, anyway, these two tiny snips were in my deletedpanicsga word doc, so they never made it into Supersaturation:

( the one where Ryan thinks about Jon and Atlantis )

**

( the one where Spencer is affected by the exploding pebbles, too )

Blah, blah, blah. Lunch is almost over. I ran this morning. With Ellie. She is apparently terrified of grates and manhole covers, but other than that she's good to run with.

And happy Sunday to those that don't.

Ever notice that I never have anything worthwhile to post about? Hmmmm.

So, I'm writing SGA/Bandslash right, and d_copper goes OMG, ERNIE! and Ernie is so not in this, he's really not, except, dudes, Brendon and Ernie? BFFs. Total BFFs and Rodney's all jealous, because Ernie only really loves HIM and maybe John, but it was, like, love at first sight for Brendon. Brendon just spots him hiding behind Chuck's rolly chair when the Daedalus beams them down, clacking his voicebox and that really cool thick pen with the kittens all over it, and maybe his mickey mouse one, too, just because that's his favorite, and Ernie says, "Mine!" really, really loud when he catches Brendon staring because seriously, Brendon looks like he might be into shiny things, too, and Ernie's torn between bonding with him over this and establishing his dominance as Shiny Foil and Pen collector extrodinare. But Brendon's all, "Oh my god, is that a furry octopus?" and Ernie likes his voice, so he comes out from behind Chuck and he's all, "Mine? Mine, mine, mine," just to make sure Brendon knows not to take his pens and Ryan knocks Brendon's shoulder and says, "Dude, he speaks Urie."

So Ernie starts. Not following Brendon, because he only ever follows Rodney and John and sometimes Radek or Ronon, but he hangs around him in the lab, and sometimes he waves a pen when he catches Brendon's eye, almost like he's beckoning him over, and one time Brendon takes him up on his invite and sits crosslegged on the floor by Ernie's basket, and Ernie spends like a half-hour going through all his pens with a soft, "mine, mine, mine," over and over again, and Brendon makes appropriate impressed noises and then hums along a little, which makes Ernie pause and blink up at him with his four eyes, and then Brendon stops humming, only Ernie wants him to hum, so he bangs his knee with the sparkly gel pen Radek gave him until Brendon gets with the program and starts humming again, and then singing a little, just loud enough for Ernie to hear. Ernie just sits and stares at him and wraps a tentacle around his wrist and taps a pen on the floor to kind of keep the beat.

And then at some point Ernie just maneuvers his way into Brendon's lap, and Brendon's not sure what to do, since he's kind of done looking at Ernie's pens and shiny bits of foil and pieces of Ancient tech that're stuffed under the USAF tee and Brendon's not sure McKay even knows they're there, but Ernie's sort of wrapped around him and won't let go.

And oh my god, throw Temp in that mix and I just might explode from the cuteness, seriously.

This is something I'm calling my Able-bodied Men 'verse. A band!AU, which will hopefully be nothing like trinityofone's band!AU (which I totally loved, yet I really didn't get any joy out of that, plus that John completely baffled me). Also, I'm attempting scene-like things, which I probably won't acheive, being that I am patently uncool, but *shrugs* Here's a short, short snippet:

( John first meets McKay at a party. John’s pretty trashed. McKay insults his pants and tugs on his belt loop, and John’s kinda certain he flirts shamelessly, even though he doesn’t remember exactly what happens. )

So I had a hankering for a buddyfic with slashy undertones, but nothing overt. And then I had a eureka moment, because Planes, Trains and Automobiles is one of my favorite Thanksgiving movies, and the end always makes my heart ache, and I totally don't want to write it, so I kind of... didn't write it. The 'they're drunk' line was only slightly amended from the movie, because that part is absolute genius. Also, someone slicker than I could've made it all heartwarming and stuff, and more with the hilarity, and also threaded in John's life better, but! As I said, this is not a fic. It's important to remember that.

( So Rodney has to make it home to Vancouver for Christmas or Jeannie’ll literally kill him, since he’s missed Maddy’s last four birthdays and he hasn’t yet met little Robert, only nine months old, but there’s a massive snowstorm sweeping into Colorado springs. )

The Stargate Fan awards have been announced! What Happens In the Clubhouse won best mckay/sheppard pre-slash. I am frankly amazed I won anything, which was the main reason I never bothered to, like, pimp or anything, so thank you to all the lovely people who voted for me *big hugs*

And also! Happy Halloween all! I have nothing written for you. Although, wait. Hmmmm. Random snapshot:


Sheppard’s pupils were huge.

“Colonel?” Rodney snapped, only half-concerned, because god knew it wasn’t an off-world mission with SGA-1 unless someone got drugged. They just had that sort of luck.

He blinked at him, slow and sticky, then rolled over from his sprawl on the bed, baring his cotton-covered stomach in a long stretch, a low, gravely… growl in the back of his throat.

Rodney froze. “Um.”

Sheppard’s tongue flicked out and his palm slid over his abdomen, clenching a fist in his t-shirt, bunching it up to expose a pale strip of flesh.

His movements were languorous. Rodney tightened his jaw. Sheppard yawned, shifted onto his side, sliding around the slippery coverlet, and it was like Rodney’s vision of hell – a look but don’t ever, ever touch deal, because nothing good would ever come of touching Sheppard.

“Rodney,” Sheppard drew out, a whine that wasn’t a whine. “I’m sleepy.”

Rodney flailed a hand, hissed, “Oh my god,” and then Sheppard started rubbing his hair on the covers, and everything clicked. “You think you’re a cat!”

Sheppard grinned at him, half-predatorily, and the situation was ten times more interesting than it’d been five minutes before. All Sheppard needed was some tight leather and it was every Catwoman fantasy Rodney’d ever had. Well, except for the fact that Sheppard was a man – officially. On paper, anyway – which actually made things better.

Or worse, since Rodney still wasn’t allowed to touch. At all. His fingers twitched.

OTHER PEOPLE SHOULD MAKE THIS INTO PORN IN MY COMMENTS. I'M JUST SAYING.

* 206_bones - join and get access to the music archives, download some of the groovy music from the eps.

* summercon - fun for everyone! read all the stories in the online zine! And anyone who left me feedback, but didn't get a reply, check and see if your post made it into my line-up... apparently some of them got stuck in the wrong place, and they can't tell which story they went with :)

* Chelsea Handler cracks me up.

* I'm working on fic in which everyone accidentally gets married. Several times over.


“You’re. You.” His hand slid down to settle on the back of John’s neck, hooking him towards him. “You’re my very best friend.”

John braced his hands on Rodney’s chest, his chin nearly hitting Rodney’s shoulder, and the very, very drunk scientist whispered sloppily in his ear, “You can godfather our babies.”

John pushed back so hard Rodney staggered and dropped Teyla. She blinked up at them from the ground, bewildered, and John jabbed a finger at both of them. “There is absolutely no way you two are having babies.”

“The priestess assured us a fruitful union,” Teyla said, making no attempt to get up off her ass. She slumped over on her side a little; started petting the grass. “I wish to name our first son John,” she said to the dirt.

“What do you think it is?” Sheppard asked.

“Something important enough to warrant a gremlin,” Rodney said.

Ronon snorted. “Or dangerous enough.” He reached out, fore- and middle fingers sliding over the gritty rock, and Rodney snapped, “For god’s sake, don’t taste it,” just before they entered his mouth.

“I’ve been cursed with morons in every facet of my life,” Rodney groused, scrambling for his canteen.

Sheppard squeezed his arm. “Just focus on the entertainment value.”

John’s lips quirked. “She needs some polish.”

The man glared at him. “Excellent, thank you,” he snapped. “Can you fix it? Are you capable of making this crap mobile move within the hour or do I need to have it towed into the city?”

“I can fix her,” John said, planting a fist on his hip, “but she needs an overhaul. A—”

“Spit and shine, yes, you said, and while I’m sure you backwater freaks just love to lick engines clean, I’m sure that’s not entirely relevant to actually making it go, hmm?” He waved a hand, blue eyes derisive. “Just bang the carburetor with a monkey wrench, or whatever the hell you charlatans charge unsuspecting civilized people for out here in the boonies. Or better yet, bill me for the use of your tools and I’ll fix it, because god knows I have more of an education than you.”

John’s brows rose. “Okay,” he drawled. “I’m thinking no. And you’re starting to piss me off.”

“Fantastic,” the man groused.

A/N: Rough, rough, wow, really rough Once Upon A Furry Octopus/And They Lived Happily Ever After-verse snippet. 609 words.

( It was weirdly odd to see Temp pick up Rodney’s mannerisms, to have her pull huffy tantrums with her cherubic face screwed up in that you-are-such-an-idiot way John swore Rodney’d patented. )

Yeah, I'm alive. I'm just downloading like crazy. It's so addicting. I wish there were more podcasts of sga stories out there. They make me smile, and they make people on the train back away from me slowly.

sga/hp fic up to 45 pages. I have no idea how to end it. I fear I may be rambling in places. Ah, well. It's still fun...

“Seriously. I don’t think we can win,” Rodney went on. Not even the sight of his favorite teacher, flushed prettily with robes askew, bolstered his spirits. They were all going to die.

“I do not disagree,” Radek said from beside him, sliding his glasses up his nose. “However, I would rather not wait placidly for my death.” He nodded at Sheppard, and the two of them counted to three under their breaths and pushed the container as hard as they could out into the middle of the room.

Rodney’s eyes went wide. “That wasn’t ready!” he yelped.

“It’ll have to do, McKay,” Sheppard drawled, swiping his palms on his robes. “We’re running out of time.”

“It’s not going to work,” Rodney stressed frantically, gripping Sheppard’s arm. “There is every possibility I was *high* when I came up with this plan.”



ETA: devildoll wrote Clubhouse fic!. You should read it, 'cause it's adorable *nods*