Say your prayers...

Can I mention how strange it is to be writing SG-1 fic whilst James Spader is on Shai's tv? I mean, I know he's not Daniel, in this bad movie. But. Still...

Disconcerting, to say the least.

In other news, I can't get away from a playlist that is fraught with meaning. Even listening to fucking Debbie Gibson and Tiffany doesn't stop my brain from drawing parallels to the 'ship. ANY 'ship. Sam/Jack, John/Aeryn, Rygel/... well, we won't go there. And everyone keeps looking at me like they're so broken. It's damned unfair (and I've broken Pete/Kitty TWICE in the past two months. Hey! I need a break, damnit).

And I have got to stop coming up with tiny fics. I need... Longevity. That's it.

Arrrgh.

Going to go sulk at Yikes now.

And maybe finish something.

Comics! Comics! Comics!

Hawkeye #6, #7: Heh. Heh. Heh. And, Squeeeee!
Thanos #9: HAH!
Cable&Deadpool #2: *snigger* (Can we clone Fabian? Please? Then I could marry him...)
( Spoilers ahoy! )

Hanging out in Camden...

I swear, this was supposed to go *happy* places. Really. This was... Not supposed to do this. I fully blame my recent obsession with SG-1, and also add that my playlist is out to frelling get me.

( Spoilers for season three )