This is not happy. I mean, it might be. Maybe. I'm not sure. It was not meant to be happy, but meant to be love, which I have found is neither particularly sad or happy, perhaps somewhere sort of in the middle, or maybe a third point, unrelated to the two. It probably suffers from 5000 words-worth of bad science but forgive me, high school education hasn't given me much to work with. Speaking of high school education: I should probably be writing that TOK essay now, y/n?
ETA: I find this most appropriate, for this fic, an inspiration if you will. Pablo Neruda's "Sonnet XVII".
ETA #2: This fic came about after reading a rash of stories in which it was revealed that Rodney understood John like no one else had ever before, and always knew exactly the right thing to say or do. To which I reply: huh? Are we talking about the same Rodney McKay here?
THE KNOWN WORLD
SGA; R. McKay/Sheppard.
( Read more... )
ETA: I find this most appropriate, for this fic, an inspiration if you will. Pablo Neruda's "Sonnet XVII".
ETA #2: This fic came about after reading a rash of stories in which it was revealed that Rodney understood John like no one else had ever before, and always knew exactly the right thing to say or do. To which I reply: huh? Are we talking about the same Rodney McKay here?
THE KNOWN WORLD
SGA; R. McKay/Sheppard.
( Read more... )