magibrain

Awesome! I think I've found a three-part strategy for approaching H/C Bingo. Those three parts are:

Start as many fics as possible all at once, just to make sure I'm always distracted from finishing any of them,

Make sure that the fics I am working on are carefully positioned to cover the maximum possible space on my card without actually forming a bingo, and

Layer more complexity and plot into each fic than is strictly necessary to fulfill the prompt, so that each one takes a long time to complete, and will surely need extensive edits once done in draft.

...I don't think I'm doing this right.

(To be fair, though, I feel like 2 isn't actually my fault, 3 has not been intentional in half the fics, and 1 is just how my brain works anyway. But re: 3, I started off writing the Poltergeist prompt, and then it decided to absorb two other prompts that aren't even on my card, and as it stands the thing is 6000 messy words and maybe, at a generous estimate, 60% done. It's going to be longer than Misfire. That's just wrong.)

( Stats )

My editor-brain has gone to bed without taking my writer-brain with it, which is why I find myself contemplating a White Collar/Briarpatch crossover. (It'd be great. Neal has access to the Briarpatch, and the Light is in some way tied up with Kate, and Peter has no affinity for the Briarpatch at all but manages to find his way in there while searching for Neal and completely refuses to back down for a little thing like being inconceivably in over his head, and hijinks ensue. And Diana somehow ends up completely intimidating all the bears.)

I think this is symptomatic of some kind of weird reaction to writing in a fandom which isn't speculative fiction of any kind. I mean, the great bastions of my fandom work to date have been Final Fantasy VIII, Stargate SG-1, Torchwood/Doctor Who/Life On Mars as one giant amalgam, and a recurring theme of Silent Hill getting into everything. You know, the kind of fandoms where I can go all wacky with time loops and mind control and giant monsters and split threads of causality and stuff, without deviating that far from actual bounds of canon-established reality.

I think my brain just flat-out refuses to accept the real world as a template, and this is why my White Collar WIPs folder consists of a handful of short character studies, a complete re-write of half of Season 2 and all of Season 3, a fic in which Peter is a really atypical guardian angel, a fic that's three AUs that got in a car crash*, and a crossover with Puella Magi Madoka Magica, of all things. (Neal wanders into a Witch's Labyrinth. Hijinks... ensue? None of the main characters get to be magical girls. It's for the best, really.) And it's probably for the best that all the snippets with the White Collar guys having to deal with

damaged_people!Jack Harkness are remaining in the braintic purgatory of my Gmail where they belong.

*Back when I was learning about these things in highschool physics, a perfectly inelastic collision was described as one in which two objects collide, combine their momentum, and continue onward with a shared velocity. When the teacher asked for examples from the class, someone offered up "A guy getting impaled by a charging rhino?" I'm not sure why this popped into my head, other than the fact that the three-AU-pileup in that fic is pretty damn inelastic.

Anyway, I'm not sure why I'm writing this out to Dreamwidth, other than it being late and me not having gotten much sleep and everything seeming like a good idea right now. (But really, Neal-and-the-Briarpatch would just be fun to play with, even if it's not Tim Pratt's Briarpatch. And even if Neal as Br'er Rabbit kinda bucks the whole Neal-as-fox metaphor I have way too much fun poking at.)

Someone please tell me to quit the browser and go to sleep.

Current sleep-deprived typo correction count: 18

Trauma is a surgical disease. It is cured with bright lights and cold steel.

I can't remember where, when, or how I first came across a series of posts on Making Light called Trauma and You, but I am forever glad I did.

Trauma and You, despite its CYA-ish disclaimer (I am not a physician. I can neither diagnose nor prescribe. These posts are presented for entertainment purposes only. Nothing here is meant to be advice for your particular condition or situation.) does a pretty good job of walking you through a trauma scene – what you're going to see, what's going on behind the scenes (or under the skin), and what you should be doing about it. It provides mnemonics, statistics, and instructions, and if you're the kind of person who likes doing terrible things to your characters and having them patch themselves or each other up, it's a really great reference on how they should be going about that "patching up" thing.

But I think half the reason I keep coming back to it is that, even though some of the medical conditions described are enough to make your skin crawl (there was a meta-blog post elsewhere on the site, wherein one of the posters summed up the author's usual contributions as Long, bloodcurdlingly detailed advice from James D. Macdonald about what to do in event of some dire emergency (heart stops, house floods, leg falls off, children attacked by whale, etc.) Posters stunned into silence. Long, contemplative pause as commenters look thoughtfully at own houses, children, legs, etc. Timid, Piglet-like question. Terrifyingly learned and hope-destroying reply.), the post is often just fun, in a snappy, sardonic, and... occasionally hope-destroying way. Because you get advice like the ever-quotable [...]make sure the scene is safe. There is something over there that munches people. You are a people. Don’t get munched yourself. If you do get munched what you’ve accomplished is this: you’ve incremented the patient count by one and simultaneously you’ve decreased the responder count by one. On a scale from good to bad this is bad. Or the sheer pragmatism of When you’re dealing with trauma, your life is pretty easy. You have 1) Things that’ll kill your patient in the next five minutes, 2) Things that’ll kill your patient in the next hour, 3) Things that’ll kill your patient today, and 4) Things that you don’t really care about.

Trauma and You is broken up into five informative posts, with a couple of Final Exams at the end:

The Basics. So, what’s trauma? It’s the physical world impinging on your tender body. Not to be confused with biology happening (in the form of bugs and germs), or chemicals (poisons, overdoses) happening, or your body breaking down and wearing out and going mysteriously wrong. No, this is more the Force of Gravity sort of stuff.

Shock. Now it’s time to have our little chat about shock. Shock is what kills people. Shock, dear friends, is what will eventually kill you, personally. The only question will be how you got into shock to start with.

Sticks and Stones. You can have a lot of fun memorizing bone names. (For example, the mnemonic for the bones in the wrist is “Some Lovers Try Positions That They Can’t Handle” for Scaphoid, Lunate, Triquetium, Pisiform, Trapezium, Trapezoid, Capitate, Hamate. (You can have even more fun memorizing the names and functions of the twelve cranial nerves, but that’s for another post.)

The Squishy Bits. When crush injuries were first identified (in the trenches of WWI and the London Blitz of WWII) they ran around 90% fatal. Nowadays with fast and efficient EMS they’re down to 50% fatal.

Burns. The amount of smoke inhaled is the number one predictor of mortality in burn injuries, way ahead of the age of the patient or the surface area of the burn. Continue to be suspicious with someone who has escaped from a fire. Sometimes the symptoms of smoke inhalation don’t appear for hours or days.

While I usually have to consult additional resources for various fictional traumas – like this shockingly relevant article on gunshot wounds to the chest, one of my major pieces of research for Misfire – and while I have no illusions that I get everything right when I do write about trauma, the Trauma and You series is almost always my first click, and I know there's a level of verisimilitude in my writing that wouldn't be there without it. Highly recommended.

Also highly recommended: a strong stomach when it comes to various traumatic medical things. Like amputation. And degloving.

Seriously, though, I could have gone my entire life without learning about degloving.

(Crossposted to my srs journal.)

Title: Exhaustion
Requestor:

azertynin
Request Link: http://collarcorner.livejournal.com/24743.html?thread=686759#t686759
Prompt Details: ( Missing scene for 2x04 (By The Book) )
Rating: ...inoffensive? K/T-ish.
Wordcount: ~1700

( Neal hasn't slept since this whole thing started. )

magibrain: ...and in case you didn't know how messed up Anat is re: Ba'al, she's also keeping him in cold-sarcophagus-storage now that the war is over because she knows he can't survive in this new galactic order but can't stand to kill him.

magibrain: SHE IS KEEPING HER FATHER IN A FREEZER BECAUSE IT'S THE LEAST MESSED-UP THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL EVER BE.

Do you ever have one of those days where you're up way too late and you're looking through all your incomplete fics and you come across one where you have no idea when you started it, where you were going with it, or why you thought it was a good idea? But it has a helpful summary at the top, something like

(That one where Sam goes missing for a while and comes back with no memory of where she's been, but with a few new nervous tics, a preoccupied air, and a strange compulsion to build an alien clock.)

?

I mean, this happens to you guys all the time, right? Just part of the package of being a distractable sort of being and also a fic writer? Y'all should share your stories with me here. Or something.

Other things I've found in my poking around because I'm all alone in the house/on the internet and for some reason not tired at all:

Jack's mission report for P2M-477 was subtitled Everything I Know About Foreign Policy I Learned From Watching You Idiots Screw It Up, but it was subtitled in very small, white text that didn't print out.

( Several more. )

I feel like this is sorta the fanfiction equivalent of Texts From Last Night. Fanfictions From Previous Days? Yeah.

Stolen from the internet, specifically

rionaleonhart and

auto_destruct:

1) Make a list of fifteen characters first, and keep it to yourself for the moment. (That way you're not leading the questions asked to fit the characters.)

2) Ask your flist to post questions in the comments.

For example:

'One, Nine and Fifteen move in together. Is this a really bad idea?'
'Under what circumstances might Five and Seven fall in love?'
'What would Two experience in Silent Hill?'
'Why is Eight so very, very angry?'
'Write a drabble in which Three and Eleven FIGHT CRIME.' (...possibly not technically a question.)

3) After your flist has asked enough questions, round them up and answer them using the fifteen characters you selected beforehand, then post them.

...

Just so you know, there will be four Jacks in this list.

Back in 2007, for reasons which I'm sure made sense at the time, I got the idea to write a fic with Jack Harkness of Torchwood and Sam Tyler of Life on Mars in a bar together, and then furthermore to email it to

rionaleonhart without explanation to see what she would do. As it turned out, because Riona is Riona (and because the fic was probably her fault in one way or another to begin with), she calmly beta'd it and sent it back.

That, I think, may have been throwing down the gauntlet.

Because there's something you have to understand about me, and that's that 70%* of my fiction writing is spite-based. A friend believes that I can't write slash? Here is the Doctor having sex with the Master. And also the TARDIS. Riona says a Silent Hill 2/House MD crossover where Chase is James Sunderland is the most frightening idea ever and she should not write it? I write it. Stargate SG-1 decides to be completely simplistic with issues of character death, the nature of identity, and memory? Here is 140,000 words deconstructing that by implication. And then there was the Silent Hill crossover meme, which was basically a (lighthearted, mutually-respectful, and mutually-gleeful) pissing contest with

jantalaimon over who could write the most, or weirdest, crossover drabblets with Silent Hill. (Among my proudest accomplishments: Winnie the Pooh, The Sims, and Tetris.)

*Completely arbitrary estimate

So I think there's a certain amount of archaeological evidence** to suggest that I started Damaged People purely to see what it would take to get Riona to go "What on earth are you doing, you crazy person?"

**Not in any way archaeological

Which is how I ended up writing what I call "A massively multifandom accidental epic following Sam Tyler (Life On Mars) and Jack Harkness (Doctor Who and Torchwood) on their misadventures, as they explore the galaxy, almost destroy some worlds, and barely save others."

How multifandom, and how epic?

Well, as of the time of this posting, I've written most of the first of a planned three arcs (1: Jack and Sam cavorting around the galaxy; 2: Series 1 of Torchwood, rewritten, expanded, and made more weird; 3: Sam Tyler saves the galaxy), and it's up to 100k words. And the thing's spawned a sequel. It's also up to 22 fandoms the last time I counted, and I keep shoving more in whenever I find a spare corner. (Lie To Me is on the waiting list, for example, and will be added as soon as a compatible plot comes up. Sherlock is in much the same position.) Among the fandoms I've managed to wedge in: Stargate: SG-1, Global Frequency, Pirates of the Caribbean, Google's April Fools jokes, Withnail and I, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Top Gear, and Cube 2: Hypercube.

The story is told mostly from Sam's perspective, with occasional dips into Jack's, so it's unintentionally organized so that if you're familiar with both series of Life on Mars and series one of Torchwood, you're generally only ever as confused as Sam is. Which, you know, can often be Rather Confused.

Anyway! I'm beginning the process of mirroring everything from its original home at

damageverse to its parallel home at

damaged_people. If you're interested in my one grand voluntary foray into slash and multifandom crossovers, I invite you to take a look. It's wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, occasionally extremely sketchy, ranges from pure gen to explicit with warnings and back again, and it will probably never be finished, but new stuff should keep appearing from time to time.

You know what? Why not.

Describe briefly (fics > 0) you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of (at least) one of them. ("A snippet" could be one pithy sentence, or it could be 3,000 words. Or anything. You never know.)

I apply the following conditions:

* I will not write explicit sex.
* I will not write about things I don't know enough about to write about, and whose research would take a prohibitively long time.

Anything else goes.

Title: A Long Drawn-Out Breath and an Impossible Sky
Author: magistrate
Rating: T
Genre: ...slipstream. :|
Beta: 1 cuil: if you asked me for a beta and I gave you a raccoon.
Continuity: Nothing blatantly canon-defying, so far as I can tell. Some point in canon when they have naqahdah reactors. And Daniel.
Summary: I DON'T KNOW
Disclaimer: I am not Italo Calvino. The opinions expressed herein are the properties of the characters and sometimes of Ferdinand de Saussure. Caution: this machine starts automatically. You cannot swallow. Questions, comments and existential crises can be left in replies or directed to magistrata(at)gmail(dot)com. Thank you for... reading?

She was halfway up the mountain carrying most of Daniel's weight across her shoulders when a flicker of light caught her from the corner of her eye. She turned without thinking, saw some white insect disappear into the jumble of light and flora and scene, and then, in an instant, everything stepped back.

( Read more... )

Okay, so I posted that rundown of fics I wouldn't know how to start, and as it turns out, I still don't know how to start any of them. But I have bits of #4, which I'm still surprised any of you want to read. (Seriously, you people. You're weird. :P )

This is one of those bits. I'm posting it, but you need to know a few things about the world, first. And by "a few things", I mean "a small novel in exposition".

( An introduction to Beyond The Rift, inasmuch as it's interpreted in these braintics, and Damaged People, inasmuch as it's interpreted in these braintics. )

Well. That was... some exposition.

TO SET THE SCENE: Jack Harkness is visiting the SGC and they've just wrapped up the debrief with Hammond. Sam's probably retreated to someone's lab to process things/get started on figuring out what's going on here. Daniel is sticking around, Harkness has been invited to stay the night, and O'Neill really just wants to go home, take more painkillers than normal people ever have to need, and put his head under a pillow for a good, long time. I think Daniel just offered to show Harkness to the VIP rooms. Harkness has other ideas.

( In which putting Jack and Jack in a room is only a good idea insofar as it might keep the planet from blowing up later. )

1) The one where the first time Sam uses the Goa'uld ribbon device it scrambles her neural pathways and leaves her without access to the linguistic portions of her brain for a few days, and the team has to find a way to bring her through it.

2) The one where something goes horribly wrong with Sha're's pregnancy, her body absorbs the Harcesis, and Amonet goes into a Goa'uld coma, leaving Sha're with the genetic memory of the Goa'uld and a position of power in Apophis' empire, and ends up becoming a fake System Lord/replacement main character for Absolute Power.

3) The one where Hammond comes in to the SGC one morning only to find that SG-1 has taken over the place and are playing some weird four-faction game of cat and mouse because one or more of them is under alien influence, but no one is sure who.

4) The one where Sam and Daniel fall through the Rift into S1-era

beyondtherift and get dragged into Torchwood Chicago for three years before the Rift establishes a two-way connection back to the SGC, where only a few months have passed, and Jack O'Neill and Jack Harkness eye each other a lot and are quietly mistrustful because no one should get that close to/have that much power over their people without them knowing about it. (Okay, this one I have bits written out of in my braintics file, but come on. IT WOULD HAVE A READERSHIP OF ONE PERSON. ME.)

5) The one that comes before Scales.

[ETA] 6) The one where they discover a dialect of Goa'uld which exhibits rhyming slang and Daniel just doesn't want to explain.

Randomly, I went off and found Meyers-Briggs types for all four members of Classic SG-1. At least, all four members of Classic SG-1 as my brain interprets them, and my brain occasionally contradicts canon in rather spectacular ways (frex, magibrain!Sam is largely asexual, and Chimera never happened), so for this to make any sense you're going to have to buy into my versions of the characters for a post or so.

So.

( A lot of neepery and a really cool pattern. )

It's like the time when I decided that SG-1 was a project by the Asgard to recreate the Four Great Races in miniature, and the parallels kept getting spookier. I think my brain is an alchemist.

(other potential post-cut closing teaser line: "And this is why SG-1 was tragically canceled at the end of the seventh season.")

[ETA]: I feel like Jonas is probably an ESTP, and I haven't watched nearly enough of S9 and S10 to guess on Cam and Vala.

I wrote the hell out of myself over the last two weeks on an original project, and now my brain doesn't want to string words together any more. Fair 'nough. Time for more bits and bobs!

These are all from fics I either have plans for finishing or have dreams of being able to finish one day. Grand fun times!

.

1. The Mansions of the Dead (or) The Origin Story Of That Damn String Of Beads

Jack doesn't want to be back on P2X-338. He doesn't want to be anywhere near the place, in preoccupation, policy, or physical reality, but the Pentagon is none too happy about the loss of one potentially very interesting piece of alien technology, and the Russians are none too happy about the loss of one potentially very interesting piece of alien technology and three quarters of the team they sent out to secretly get it, and sending SG-1 back in to see if they can at least pick up some energy readings that might convince the SGC to send an engineering team back out to excavate the Eye is the least the Air Force can do.

Really. It's the least. It's a token gesture and the Russians know it, the Pentagon knows it, Hammond knows it, Jack knows it, and even Carter, who's been staring at her scanner since they stepped through the wormhole, knows it. Token. Pointless political posturing. There was only one thing on this planet of any interest or value, and they managed to blow it up the last time they were here.

...Jack just wishes someone'd made Daniel read the memo.

.

( Bit. Bob. The occasional bullet. )

...but before I try to wrangle my brain into giving a coherent explanation of the whole Ba'al|Sam|Anat saga, I'm going to do part 2 of the WIP meme. This one for bits of stuff I've written in my braintic file that I have no actual plans for fleshing out and writing, but have enough of a hook into or idea of context that I could work them into actual stories if I ever got the mind to.

Sam being, at the moment, my favorite character (having taken the title from Daniel some time ago), the magibrain likes to typecast itself as a Sam whump writer. This is why you don't want to be my favorite character: it only ever ends in pain. To be honest, one of the reasons I don't pursue writing a lot of these as eagerly as some of my other projects boils down to "There's only so many times you can write 'Something horrible happens to Sam, the boys go D: !!' before there's no drama left in it any more."

Anyway, these have braintic names. We're moving up in the world. One day there'll be a WIP meme with the fics that actually earn titles.

And then one day I might even post those fics. ~~But that'd just be crazy.~~

=

. duat
SG-1 is consulting on some offworld project when a Goa'uld decides he Really Really Wants that planet and sends a bunch of ships down to claim it. The Tau'ri contingent finds its forces split, and the people nearest the Stargate are forced to retreat back through in hopes of bringing reinforcements to break through the Jaffa lines and get to the people stranded. Yeah, that doesn't happen. ...anyway, Sam is stuck on the planet behind enemy lines with one other Major, a Captain, and a bunch of Lieutenants, and ends up being the de-facto leader in trying to keep them all alive until the SGC can figure out how the hell to get them home. It's a grand fun romp through testing everyone's faith in the "no one gets left behind doctrine," as well as Sam's perfectionism turning a laser sight on both her command ability and her woodsmanship, but to be honest, half the appeal is Major Nathan Cwirko and his efforts to keep them all sane.

( In which the two Majors have rather different styles. )

. mindtrap
Sam gets hit by some sort of experimental energy weapon and gets rushed back to the SGC for medical attention. She's delirious, muttering about things that make no sense – like needing a new set of dress blues. Then she lapses into a not-coma characterized by elevated brain activity and constant REM. And her condition is degrading. Tok'ra intelligence reveals that this was a new weaponization of the sub-psychic interference that also fuels a Kara Kesh; it's locked Sam inside her own brain with a piece of unfinished mental/emotional business that has to be resolved in her mind before she can be brought out of it. (See also: Forever In A Day.) Osiris has recently demonstrated on Daniel that recall devices can be used to put a person into someone else's dreams, so after some discussion, Jack links up to see if he can bring her out, or can bring enough information out that he can go back in with a solution. He finds himself re-living portions of the same two days with her: about six months before Daniel opened the Stargate, while Sam was still a Captain working at the Pentagon. Unfortunately, this seems to mean her memories within the mind trap are also restricted to that time – she has no idea who Jack is, and soon becomes suspicious of this unknown Colonel following her around and taking an interest in her life...

( In which it seems they're on the cusp of a discovery. )

. pitfightverse
Cribbed shamelessly from the post on the magibrain, which was itself cribbed shamelessly from my braintic file: Everybody's got to have that one 'verse. You know, that one where the team runs into a giant hall of mirror artifacts and Jack and Teal'c get sent through a malfunctioning one into a universe where Sam was never allowed to join the Stargate program and Kinsey probably took over and some other weird crap also happened, but the upshot of it all was that Earth got taken over by Mars or someone and the entire global and interstellar political arena has gone totally bizarre and crapsack? Like, the main economy in this universe is a sort of panem et circensis industry where the slightly-nuked Earth is only half-controlled by any Goa'uld, but that doesn't matter because the only way to bring in money and goods to survive is to be amusing to them, as they've more or less given up on converting the population into slave labor, and anyway, the punchline is that Sam spent the last six or so years of her life making a name for herself by pitfighting Jaffa.

Everyone's got to have that 'verse. Right?

( In which Sam and Kotan (AU!Pitfighter!Sam) don't exactly get along at first. )

Three is a good number.

I like to externalize and anthropomorphize the creative, idea-generating part of my brain. I call it the magibrain. This is because I like to maintain the illusion of (admittedly geeky) dignity, and the illusion that I have good taste and some sort of ingrained sense of what makes a story work. There's a degree of effort you have to put into something to make it look effortless, and this is part of the effort I put into seeming like I know what I'm doing.

( But anyway. )

So. If you see anything tagged with a note that says it's from the magibrain, beware! It probably has a high content of crack, melodrama, plotholes big enough to fly a tel'tak through, and contrivance upon contrivance upon contrivance. The one claim I do make is that it tickled me in some way, and hope that in some way it might also tickle some of you.

...now stay tuned for what I'm sure will be several posts rambling about the Ba'al, Sam and Anat Sagas....

Old meme. "Post a bunch of excerpts from whatever you're currently working on." Except I'm going to post a bunch of random bits of scene jotted down in my braintic scrap file that showed up in my head and refuse to coalesce into anything fic-able.

All scenelets are SG-1 and free for the spinning-off-of.

.

1. The one where Jack has relaxed standards for winning, and is probably to blame for something.

"It's revenge," Jack says.

Daniel's eyebrows scrunch together. "For what?"

"For–" ...hm. He hadn't thought of that. Daniel hasn't actually been that difficult to deal with, lately. "That... thing. That you're going to do. Tomorrow."

By now, Daniel's cottoned on. He folds his arms across his chest, and his tone turns from somewhat confused and exasperated to the sort of too-patient, understanding voice people usually use with children. "And what am I going to do tomorrow, Jack?"

Jack gives him an annoyed wave of his hand. "I don't know. I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow, though, won't we?"

The next day Daniel manages to navigate rickety rope bridges, dilapidated pontoons, a session of swamp politics that has Carter quoting The Lion In Winter and a trade negotiation that has the SGC trading antibiotics for crops which could be hybridized with something to something something Jack has stopped paying attention at this point, and it looks like he's not going to give Jack a chance to seem prophetic until he accidentally knocks a giant alien pitcher plant over, covering Jack's boots in about three gallons of slime.

Carter and Teal'c can't figure out why it's Daniel who looks annoyed and Jack who looks smug, the entire way back to the 'gate.

.

( Bit 2 through bob 7. )

Every time I see a reference to that line from Emancipation where Jack is reminding Carter about "that time on P3X-595" where she "drank that stuff that made you take off…", I mentally fill in "YOUR HEAD." Because it's so obvious what the joke is going for, and I just really have to subvert it in some way.

So yeah. In my braincanon, early in their first year, some weird reality-warping (and/or mutual hallucination) crap went down on P3X-595 which resulted in Carter taking off her head and possibly walking around with it under her arm for a while. And it was creeptastic enough that once reality reasserted itself, she decided never to mention it again.

...which may say a lot about my headcanon and very little about anything else, but wahey.

The Sam Carter in my head just kinda... loves people, occasionally falls in love with people, without any expectation that things can, should or will come out of it. Love is this anomalous emotional stimulus with no ingrained response, for her. It's a concept that's completely distinct – almost isolated – from the concepts of things like starting a relationship or starting a family. Those are acts of social construction. Those are learned; they're activities with strategy and arbitrary cultural form, like navigating a conversation or the ins and outs of polite smalltalk.

I just... oh, kids.

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Page Summary

[H/C Bingo] Also, all of my titles are unsatisfactory.
Absolutely brilliant at 2 AM.
[Rec][Writing Resource] Trauma And You
[Fic][White Collar] Prompt fill for azertynin, "Exhaustion"
Reasons I can never write the Anat Saga, #25354902
Today was just going to be one of those days. You know. Full of zombies.
Memesheep.
They really are damaged people. The title is apt.
The last time I did this it was so Riona could have vengeance upon me.
[Fic: SG-1] A Long Drawn-Out Breath and an Impossible Sky
Braintic snippet: The Rift, and [dancing].
Fics I've had the fleeting urge to write today but wouldn't know how to start:
magibrain Meyers-Briggs meta, (or) numerology, but not, (or) why only Jack can lead this team
Six more bits and bobs, from the magibrain's burners
"I'm looking for something a little easier to shout in a crisis, here."
On the magibrain.
Seven bits and bobs, fresh from the magibrain.
I don't even know *what* that was about.
Random headcanon realization of the day

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Entries tagged with *well that was random

[H/C Bingo] Also, all of my titles are unsatisfactory.

Absolutely brilliant at 2 AM.

[Rec][Writing Resource] Trauma And You

[Fic][White Collar] Prompt fill for azertynin, "Exhaustion"

Reasons I can never write the Anat Saga, #25354902

Today was just going to be one of those days. You know. Full of zombies.

Memesheep.

They really are damaged people. The title is apt.

The last time I did this it was so Riona could have vengeance upon me.

[Fic: SG-1] A Long Drawn-Out Breath and an Impossible Sky

Braintic snippet: The Rift, and [dancing].

Fics I've had the fleeting urge to write today but wouldn't know how to start:

magibrain Meyers-Briggs meta, (or) numerology, but not, (or) why only Jack can lead this team

Six more bits and bobs, from the magibrain's burners

"I'm looking for something a little easier to shout in a crisis, here."

On the magibrain.

Seven bits and bobs, fresh from the magibrain.

I don't even know what that was about.

Random headcanon realization of the day