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Jim’s never seen anything so goddamn fine. He resists the strong urge to whistle. “You clean up nice.”
Consequently, Bones messes with the tie, making it crooked. “Glad you appreciate it.”
because Kirk/Spock is sooooo for the previous generation of slashers. you know, the ones that ran our economy into the ground. <3
because I knew somewhere out there someone would watch Terminator Salvation and go 'I want to lick the dirt right off John Connor's skinny face' <3
"Yes, darling," Lily said with a comforting pat. "You do have that."
"Four very important minutes before, but before, nonetheless." James nodded solemnly.
and
After dinner Severus locks himself in his office, ignoring his Floo and owls while he hunches over his work, breaking quill nibs with shocking frequency until he hears Harry's knock.
because a double dose is necessary to counteract the effects of desperately reading thousands of terrible fanfic.net 40 chapter trainwrecks in helpless horror. and it is cheaper than the al-alc-al-al-co-hol.
I don't do RayK, and I certainly don't do general author recs... but this is THE most well written and succinct shit I've EVER seen. so you'll just have to look for the Mountie fic in her collection of SGA, Due South, Smallville et al fic.
all I want in life now is to own a junk shop and an astrophysicist. pls god kay thx <3 Me
Lorne scrambled to his feet and looked embarrassed. Teyla also looked regretful and didn't look John in the eye. John looked at them both, looked real close. Teyla looked angry. Lorne looked annoyed. She had just hit him. He didn't look as though he was going to retaliate. They both looked miserable.
Wait. They looked miserable. Miserable?
“Oh my god,” John muttered. “Are you two sleeping-”
*
“- together? What? Since when?” Rodney almost shrieked over his lunch.
Ronon loses his knives, Sheppard only makes out a little with Cameron and SG-1 turns green
John hoped so, too, but he just said, "I hope the school burns down and we don't have to go at all."
beautiful like the dawn breaking through a dirty window
"What's wrong with my hair?" John said, affronted.
"It's really… you studied physics at university, right?"
"It was one of my majors, McKay, I told you that."
"Your hair," he said, frowning again, "was not paying attention."
batshit psycho girls in the red binder, all other parties now being paged.
There's a brief silence. John counts to five.
"What? Because you're half-dead from sexual exhaustion from having performed disgusting acts of carnality with that Scottish, sheep-shagging--! He has a girlfriend you know! You have a girlfriend, you know!"
In which Ronon is prepared to keep John honest and Miko can knit onsies *I* would wear
the sweet smell of ethnography in the morning.
Rodney beamed. "I sure did."
"But I named them," John said sadly, staring into Little Ricky's cold, dead eyes.
Rodney lifted Lucy over his shoulders. "Sheppard, stop being such a homo and pick up Bambi before his blood soaks into the moss."
yak yak yak. so I'm not the author of the fucking da vinci code. yak.
I leave them to their game, pondering the ethical issues in ordering two people to have sex.
in which John and Rodney totally aren't like girls.
John had had dreams like this.
there is a a faintly damp Rodney, a maniacal Rodney, and a Rodney apparently skilled in tying up colonels. what more could a
are you my boyfriend or something?
"Yes," John said slowly.
contains the best ever most appropriately Rodney during sex comment. ever. liek evar. and there's a prom.
