#but plz feel free to continue threads with it

[patetpluvia]

Nix was coming too but immediate began to feel nauseous.. What in the world happened?

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Wake up! | Lee Felix

Summary: when Felix is sleeping peacefully, but you'd rather give him all your love!

Notes: @alyszaen idk wtf this is but plz read it

Warnings: cheesy cuteness

"Are you awake?"

The whisper of your words caused Felix to stir, shifting his head slightly as he unconsciously rolled away from the sound. You smiled at the movement, biting your lip to stop the giggles from escaping. You waited a moment before asking him again, anticipating for him to wake at the sound of your voice.

You snuggled into his side, pressing your forehead to his cheek as you buried your face into his neck. You sighed contently, softly humming in satisfaction at the comfort he brought you. "I love you," you tell him happily.

Your nuzzled head caused your hair to tickle his skin, forcing Felix to wake. He turned his head to the side, lips meeting your forehead instead. "Hi," he says. His voice vibrated slightly against you as he continued, "good morning."

Not finding anymore restraint in yourself, you swung your free arm around his waist and tucked him even further into your chest. "You are so warm!" You gasp.

Felix chuckles, closing his eyes as he feels you grip his sides to keep him close. "You're awfully cuddly this morning," he remarks.

You couldn't help yourself. The way he slept peacefully beside you after a long time apart had you craving to hold him closer than ever. It was rare that you woke before him, leaving you to blame the jet leg for the time you spent waiting. You even tried to occupy yourself with your phone, debating on whether it was worth it or not to ruin his sleep. But the longer he slept away, the more inpatient you became. He was so close to you, and you couldn't squeeze him in your arms.

Lifting your head and pulling back, you looked down to Felix with a soft smile. "You're so cute, you know that?" You reach to place a finger to his cheek, tenderly tracing down the skin to his jaw. "Such a handsome man."

Felix opened his eyes to look at you, amused. "You're acting weird."

You giggle, shaking your head. "I'm not!" You defend, leaning down to place a kiss to his cheek. "I just really, really missed you!" You finished the sentence with three or four other pecks, finding it hard to resist from doing more.

Felix began to laugh at your antics, his cheeks rising high as he attempted to pull away from you. Although, your grip on his waist never loosened. He reached his right hand over you, placing it on the small of your back to smother you into him, hoping it would cease the kisses that seemed to become more slobbery.

"Let me sleep!" He cries out in laughter, holding your head to his clothed chest with his left arm. He felt you wiggle around at the change of positions, now locked in his grasp. Unsatisfied, he outstretched his legs, wrapping them around your own and pinning you down.

Another wiggle attempt forced him to flip you both over, knees on either side of your legs and arms beside your head. He caged you in, leaning over your body as he tried to regain his strength enough to prevent you from moving again. His face stayed lowered to yours, watching.

You beamed up at your lover, excited to have his full attention. "What's wrong, honey? Don't like my kisses?"

Felix grinned back at you. "Let's see how you like it!"

Your eyes widened in shock as you realized you finally lost control of the situation. You raised your hands to block his face from meeting yours, but you weren't quick enough. In a second, Felix licked his lips and bent down enough to land a big, loud and wet kiss to your cheek. You squealed in surprise, feeling the disgust wash over you.

"Ew!"

Felix didn't stop. He spread his own slobbery kisses all over your face. Your eyelids, cheeks, eyebrows, chin-every inch of your skin was covered with his lips. Your hands met the back of his head, threading your fingers through the long hair as you attempted to hold his face away. The more you turned away, the more he tried to kiss you.

Finally satisfied with his work, he pulled back enough to gauge your expression. He smirked proudly. "Just wanted to return the affection, babe."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks," you respond dryly. Your one hand came to your face to wipe anything left over. "I really appreciate it."

Felix hummed softly, catching your gaze as you both began to settle. His eyes sparkle with love as he leant his head back down, this time meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. His soft hand rested against your cheek, prompting you to lean against the warmth. You tilted his head exactly where you needed him with your fingers still in his hair.

"I missed you so much," you confess honestly.

Felix rests his forehead against yours. "So did I," he admits as well. "Every night, every day. But I'm so glad to be home again with you here."

[goodbyeapathy8]

Thoughts on unsolicited constructive criticism

[Posting this separately vs as a response on an already long thread]

Former English lit + philosophy major who has a LOT of thoughts on unsolicited concrit & dominated a Discord discussion on this recently... *takes a deep breath, plz buckle your seatbelts for this ride* *in this essay I shall-*

AO3 is a different landscape than other sites for me, personally, and social media in general. It's an escape for me. A playground, so to speak.

It's a place where I go to practice my writing without fear of perfection. Perfection is what holds me back from actually working on my original works and submitting the damn manuscripts to an agent so I can be published and live my dreams as someone who's paid to write.

And when I go to the playground, I'm not looking to hear "you're swinging the wrong way" or "that's not how you go down the slide".

Most people, and I say this kindly, do not know how to give actually good concrit. This is not being elitist but it's actually pretty hard to critique and be helpful. It's not easy, at all.

A lot of people struggle to tell the difference between feedback and opinion. Objectivity and subjectivity can be hard to differentiate, to b e very honest. Social media has encouraged us to opinionate constantly. What I'm interested in when I write isn't your opinion. It's how you feel. Did my words move you? Did you laugh?

Especially if the work is not completed. How do you actually know that what you're criticizing won't be cleared up at the end? How do you know the author isn't going back to edit it afterwards? And... why do you assume the author doesn't know?

For me, I know the fics I post up aren't perfect. Again - the playground idea. I'm aware of most of my writing flaws.

Here's my usual rant about perfection as it pertains to capitalism. There's this really weird expectation for free labor as well as perfection in today's world that I blame corporations and capitalism for.

We, as human beings, are messy, incomplete, works in progress. Very few of us achieve the level of perfection because most of us don't have entire teams that help us get to that point, which corporations and celebrities have. A lot of us, thanks to the internet, have been exposed to levels of perfection that it is simply impossible for the average person to get to.

I've been in the process of decolonizing and that applies to reading as well. The capitalist standards for perfection in published works (having continuity, character development, grammar, spelling, etc etc) - why should they matter in fanfic?

Perfection is an artificial and unobtainable notion.

Likewise - thinking authors are looking for concrit in order to "improve" their writing is a huge assumption. Again - capitalism. I rebel against the idea of having to improve for the sake of improving because that's "progress".

Write for fun. Post for fun. Do it because it's fun, not because you have an end goal or society thinks you should have one, anyways.

Like advice, unsolicited concrit also assumes that the author is on the same page as you - willing and able to receive it, without spiraling. So many of us struggle with our mental health and a lot of us use AO3 as therapy, whether right or wrong (almost used "write" instead of right). I'd rather err on the side of "do the least harm as possible, especially on the internet, with strangers" emphasis on strangers. None of my readers know where I am, health wise, on any given day. Choose kindness.

I get the intent of unsolicited concrit and that most of it comes from a place of "wanting to help". I'm not a doctor but I take the Hippocratic oath seriously. I find that most people have this desire to "want to help" but do not have the thought in the back of their minds to "do no harm while helping".

So many things are free in the world we live in today. We used to have to pay ten cents to send a text and I think that idea was engraved in my head so I try to be careful with my words. But a lot of folks are used to internet being fast and things being posted quickly and immediately so I feel like there's less cautiousness in general. It costs people nothing to leave a comment within seconds, without a thought.

Last point - the Dunning Kruger scale. I think the people who are most qualified to give criticism, don't. And people that aren't, do.

At the end of the day, I see the choices in leaving a comment and what that achieves as a result. For me, the goal in commenting is really the fact that I'd love for the author to continue writing. And when it comes to "do no harm" I find that attempted concrit leans hard on preventing authors from writing or making them pause.

Let people have the freedom to play without consequences. This is a playground, not a boardroom.

I like the idea that I'm contributing some joy and happiness back to the world by my fics. There's not enough of it. And by equivalent exchange, I'd love if readers contributed that back in comments by encouraging authors. That, to me, is the truly helpful aspect versus any sort of critical feedback.

[voxxcd]

((tonight im going to be working on deleting stuff. i will be deleting...a lot but if there's any thread u esp wanna continue or a starter maybe i missed plz feel free to send it to me))

((things are finally settling down for me irl ill probably spend this week (and mostly this weekend) doing a giant clear out of my blogs drafts/asks then post some starter or plotting calls so. if uve been waiting for an opportunity to interact...))

[gyujeongfmd]

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

famed roleplay sentence starter meme — accepting!

you know, being in this place in the same time feels like digging broken shards. edges all jagged and marred, puncturing point first into the wounds barely resolved.

it’s the memories of childhood resurfacing — family pictures, primed in the silk ties his mother fixes over before tossing his own jordans out in favor of some french designer loafers they have settled for him. it’s the memories of being told what to do, what to say — the i told you so’s inside each rebuttal to his protests.

and now he stands, facing the question aimed at this past he’s tossed away.

“tell you what?” he’s playing dumb, and hates the way how feigned ignorance graces in the form of his widened eye stance and a retreat back into not knowing. maybe this sucks, or maybe it’s just cowardice and his own tail falls down, no longer on alert.

but he falls back further into a spell of retraction, nearly choking on his words when they leave like second-instinct. “family shit isn’t something you normally broadcast to people. who really likes sharing every fucking detail about their family?” now, he’s like wounded prey. whimpering in his firm stance, showing barren emotion across his features. whatever, it’s all he’s known to do.

[crowtrinkets]

Loved, Past Tense

WARNING: LUCIO REVERSED ENDING SPOILERS

--

Word Count: 2,123

The apprentice is now the devil, they have the undying love and admiration of Lucio. But they cannot help by miss Asra their friend. With their new-found knowledge and powers, they attempt to talk to Asra, confront him.

I was inspired after reading Lucio’s revered ending, plz don’t judge my attempt at angst too hard.

--

The click of Lucio’s boots exiting through the gate as he heads back to the mortal world echoes in my realm. That's right. My realm. I run my clawed hand along my throne admiring its handiwork. I wonder how many millennia the previous devil spent sitting here, waiting for entertainment. I do not desire to grow bored here all alone while Lucio makes conquests for Vesuvia in the name of the Devil. My name. Nadia fights back with her family in Prakra, I feel a slight tinge of remorse knowing she’s fighting so hard. I wish she would submit it would make things so much easier if my friends were on my side. Then there is the matter of Asra. My dear teacher, my friend, he left without so much as a goodbye. I wish he said goodbye. With a wave of my magic, an image appears before me. My shop, our shop. It looks like no one has been home in months. The dust building on the counter brings a frown to my face.

"I have to find him."

I will the image away placing my hands in my lap. I’ll have to meditate on this. Becoming the Devil gave me a vast knowledge of the unknown. Secrets I never knew as a mortal suddenly became common knowledge to me. I know about my past, all the details of it, Asra's deal with the Arcana. If I were not how I am now I may have lost my mind with the knowledge of my life before my death, but I’m stronger now. Asra and I share a heart, I can use my magic, my power to find him. It’s just a matter of if he will let me. Closing my eyes I reach out, with my magic or my newfound powers I cannot tell the difference. It seems they merged together. I find a thread and grab it, but it severs the minute I grab hold. Asra must have recognized me. I will find him. I lounge into my throne admiring the palace-like structure the devil created for this realm, it's a little vast for my taste but maybe I’m just used to my shop. No matter, I have other things to worry about.

—-

I stand out in the red fields, running my hand over a crater and filling it with water. I have found that Asra is partial to water magic. I have tracked his location without raising suspicions. It was all thanks to my creatures that Lucio is so fond of. I managed to find an item tethered to Julian and tracked him, being as they are traveling together, Asra as well. They’re in some far off desert town. Whatever they’re doing there I do not know, nor do I care, I just want to talk to Asra. I wave my hand over the water and concentrate on Julian's aura. He doesn’t use a lick of magic so he wouldn’t even notice my presence.

“Asra! Tubs free!” I hear the ring of a man's voice, Julian's, judging by the red hair poking underneath a towel as he walks out of view.

“Thank you, Julian, did you refill it?” Asra's voice.

“Ah I did, I hope the water is a good temperature?” I roll my eyes at the attempt of flirting. I hear Julian leave and the door close. Asra lets out a sigh, I hear the movement of fabric, as he removes his shirt. Asra approaches the tub reaching a hand towards the water, but stops when he sees my face staring back at him.

“Hello Asra,” is all I can muster to say. Asra stares stunned for a minute then starts.

“H-hello,” it seems he’s at a loss for words, rare for him.

“Why have you been hiding, why haven’t you visited me,” Asra’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I don’t understand, why would I visit you? Do you know the carnage Lucio has laid waste to in Vesuvia?” His voice is in a harsh whisper, he doesn’t want the others to hear that he’s talking to me. No matter I do not care about them.

“Lucio is doing what I asked of him, those people don’t understand I’m doing them a service,” I continue to stare Asra down, my eyes refusing to leave his. He looks at me, his expression neutral but I can see behind his eyes. Fear, anger, sadness, I can feel it in our shared hearts.

“Allowing people to die? Raiding nearby territories? That's what you call service? What happened to you?” Asra grips the edges of the tub, disgust forming on his face. “Why did you leave us, back there, with the world turtle, you didn't even say anything, no goodbye….. No nothing,” I feel the taste of anger settle in my mouth.

“Why did you leave me!” I hiss, leaning close to the water. Asra takes a step back. “All those days you left on your journeys, leaving me to run the shop on my own, disappearing in the morning without so much as a goodbye?”

“You wouldn’t understand, MC-“

“Oh? Wouldn’t I?” I tap the water with a claw, allowing it to distort and ripple the image of Asra. I reach into the water and allow myself to be engulfed. For a second I don't see anything, then my eyes settle. I'm in the bathroom Asra is in. It’s small, wooden, there is a multitude of towels folded on shelves, countless bottles of soaps and scents on a table. A window behind me reveals a vast desert. I turn back and face Asra who looks up at me in horror.

“Do not be afraid Asra, I mean you no harm, I just want to know why,” he takes a step back, craning his neck up as I stand in the bathtub. I crouch down into the tub, sitting so my height is less intimidating. If I wanted to scare him I would’ve done it ages ago.

“I-I can’t tell you,” Asra avoids my eyes, looking to the floor instead, as he backs up and falls into a stool. He puts his head into his hands and lets out a sigh.

“I know, Asra,” he looks up at me. Before he starts I interrupt. “I know everything, I know about my death, how I died of the plague. How we were friends before… more than friends,” I pause allowing my words to take root. “Your deal, the reason my memories were wiped. I. Know. Everything.” I growl, gripping the edges of the tub, leaning forward to emphasize my words, my anger at his secrets. Asra gawks for a second, leaning his elbows on his knees before he starts.

“Then why bother asking if you know everything, I ran away for a reason, MC… To get away from you,” There's a hint of anger in his wavering voice.

“Then why leave, if you were so fond of me Asra, why did you not act on it, I have seen realities where you and I could have been together,” I can feel tears welling in my eyes, but I barely feel the sadness, it remains in the back of my mind, sitting behind a glass wall, visible but unreachable. “I loved you Asra... Loved,” Asra winces at confession.

“I should have been there for you,” his voice wavers, tears threatening to leave his eyes.

“Yes! You should have... You left the second before Countess Nadia came into our shop that night. Maybe you knew it was her, and you wanted to get rid of me... you were tired of taking care of me and you didn't have the courage to say anything,” Asra stands.

“No, no no that’s not what happened! I-I I couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you, holding you, calling you mine. W-when I would tell you of your past you would go into this catatonic state,” Asra’s voice begins to break. “I couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore so I had to let you go... B-but for you to end up with Lucio? Why would you do this to me… I loved you,”

“Lucio has shown me more love and dedication than you ever have!” I lurch forward sending the baths water over the edge.

“You call that love? Him blindly following you like a lost pup?” Asra tenses. I can see the mental battle going on in his mind. I can feel the way his heart pounds in his chest, as mine mimics his.

“Lucio stole my parents from me… I was so alone for years, having to fend for myself,” he places a hand on his chest, attempting bravado.

“Your parents brought that among themselves, they knew the terms of their deal with the devil and the took it,” I bark out, window-rattling behind me. “Lucio was doing what was asked of him by the devil, the fact that your parents even took the deal says a lot about them, about you,” Asra of all people should know that deals are not a one-sided project.

He reaches down and picks up the shirt he previously removed and grabs hold of the doorknob. At that moment I summon chains to grab hold of the knob and slam it close before Asra can make his way out. Asra flinches and stares at them, backing up and leaning against the wall, his stare shifts to me, cold and deadpanned.

“I may have forgiven Lucio for what he did to me, but that does not change his past! The things he did,”

“People can change Asra,” I say almost sing-song.

“You’ve changed… For the worst,” his voice shakes, his fists clench and I can feel his magic reach out, trying to find anything to fight me with.

“Oh yes Asra, I have changed,” I step out of the bath, one hoof at a time, sauntering towards to him, as though we were having a friendly conversation. Towering over him I can feel the fear creeping up inside him.

“But not for the worst. You and I, master, we’re similar.” Asra’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and anger. “You recreated me, for your own selfish means, why couldn’t you just let me stay dead? You wanted a weak, helpless follower. To worship you, love you and you got what you wanted,” I reach up towards Asra’s head.

“N-no that’s not what I wante-“ I grab him by his hair, angling him so he can look at me properly. He hisses in pain grabbing my wrist attempting to pull free. But my grip is too strong.

“And now that I’ve surpassed you, you can’t bear the thought. Your poor little Apprentice doesn’t need you anymore. So you run away, hide from your regrets, I will always know where you are, Asra,” I lift my hand, poking a claw into Asra’s chest right over his heart, not enough to break the skin, but enough to sting. His breath hitches when I make contact. “We share a heart remember? I know everything you’re feeling, I know you feel disgusted and fearful. But you even yearn for me. You can’t forget me,” I see a spark of magic forming in Asra’s hand, I summon chains to bind his hands above his head before he does.

“You’re no better than the last devil,” he chokes out through pained gasps. Tears fall from his face, but his expression remains full of anger. Hatred.

“Maybe, maybe not, but you can’t do anything to stop me. Killing the devil almost destroyed me. That’s why I had to become him, you could never do something like that… Lucio saved my life he aided in my ascension, you revived me to keep me to yourself,” I let go of Asra and back up towards to tub, keeping eye contact. Once again I feel tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I do not feel sorrow. Asra on the other hand is crying. I feel his heartbreak, and mine as well but I am numb to the feeling.

“I-I hate you…” He means it.

“That may be so, but you still love me as well,” I step back into the tub.

“I HATE YOU!” Asra flings a bottle at my head but I am already sinking in the water, too fast for it to make contact. I hear a crash and then nothing.

I pull my head from the water, sitting up. I am back in my realm, sitting on the edge of the water. I look back down but there is no image, just the reflected red sky above me and my face, distorted by shadows. Something drops into the water causing it to ripple. I bring a hand to my face.

Tears.

[sasorikigai]

“You’re the best friend and husband I could’ve asked for.” ( any of our modern verses plz )

fluffy / reassuring sentences for your needs … sentence starters || @sonxflight || accepting

💥 || Hanzo Hasashi would breathe and gasp for air, for he lives and he dies a thousand deaths. He believes and he doubts everything in existence, because he may sleep peacefully and he lays awake counting the seconds into the night, depending on circumstances. All had been because of Ryou Sakai, and he is reminded of his nonexistence deep inside his adamantine bones. As the churning hollowness in the center of his gravity reduces him into a hollowed echoes of nonexistence, the archives of his thousand lives strewn about his subconscious, as Hanzo Hasashi becomes stories without homes, like the memories of sweet nothings floating about between his ribcage. The cage where his fragmented kintsugi heart resides; with still-ferocious beats and the fevered zeal that would hurl even a shooting star above the dawning intensity of his love.

The summer sun lends its benevolence, the earth alive coming under the gentle saturating gaze of his most beloved. The flowerbeds are spilling with blooms dense, and a feeling warm of peace long fills the stretching hours as life flourishes over his crudely macerated and violated flesh, and wanton, visceral emotions are reflected in the clear, silvery eyes, before they retract to reveal the unfathomable ocean depth of his dark amber. All Hanzo Hasashi wanted was to let each and every morning freshly born with sparkling dew as the wind of his zephyr breathes tickle the architecture of Ryou Sakai’s being with soft small sighs and moans. The breeze would soon come bringing musky ocean scent, a doubled separateness merging in coalescent solidarity as joy bubbles effervescent, even asleep and dormant under his closed eyelids. 

The divine beauty of their souls shining in each thread of light woven into his skin and in Ryou’s beautiful fingers, which entwine his fingers and caress over his flawless, unblemished abdomen reconstructed in his rapid healing. In each strand of his luscious, thick raven hair, there still are traces of stardust from where he will always hurtle and fly, as the unconquerable light and inextinguishable flames burn in a quiet strength of a melody in his heart with their rhythm. The light stubble that grows on Ryou’s face falls for the caresses of his fingers as his free hand reaches upward to encup his beloved’s jaw and feel strong and steady pulse beneath. Hanzo Hasashi’s love is a thing of breath; borderless, wordless, and formless, filling both of them up so silently it hurts at times. However, it is no longer a fleeting, falling thing that disappears without roots. It is a dawn; a sharp determined cry in the tenebrous dark, a buoy in the drowning, and thing of hope, of hope, and of hope. 

“Our journey will continue to be dangerous and painful, but you have helped me to come to a realization that valuing certain partial ferocious skills of kombat only has its advantages when my love overflows through my lungs, my heart, my lips, and my eyes. It may have taken me centuries and beyond to realize such crucial a life lesson, but I am so glad to have shown my progress and betterment through undying, eternal love along with you,” Hanzo Hasashi is only braver and kinder with aureate radiance of resplendent heart and soul, simply because Ryou Sakai came into his life. The authentic, emotion-ridden timbre of his guttural baritone echoes in whispers, as his heart radiates hearthfire warmth. “You are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me, hands down.”  💥 ||

[diverse-hearts-ocs-a]

Okie dokie!  I cut 365 drafts down to 97 and...yeah that’s still alot but it’s better!  Anyways more details under the read more. 

Number of Threads Kept With Whom - 

@lachrymosestorm x3 

@smol-sirens-garden x13

@havmaner x5

@somegremlin x1 

@nefer-seshen x4 

@unsteadyheathens x9

@frozcnlight / @frozcnhearts x24 

@agent-candyfloss x11

@floralcrowncd x3

@jxbakuhigure x1 

@tetsuwan-atom x2

@jezebelsmultimuse x1 

@canarius x1 

@abilitypossessed x4 

@madamhatter x1 

@nycttophilic / @hxlf-bred x10 

@multilili​ x1

@great0ld0nes​ x1

@thedetectiveofinaba​ x1 

PLEASE NOTE - These are all threads that it is my turn to reply to. If there is anything that you have and still wish to reply to then please feel free to do so. I know this still looks like a lot but it’s way better than what I was at!  Again - I wish to say sorry for how I’ve been running things the last few months. I’m lucky to have such wonderful partners!  As each reply is posted I’ll add it to my tracker and that way if I’m way behind on some reply because I’m a numpty and let things build up again - I’ll have a thing there to scream at me about it.  There may have been drafts lost in the great Tumblr mess of code too. If there is something that you reallllllly wanna continue plz let me know. If I reply to anything and you don’t wish to continue just feel free to drop it - I honestly don’t mind!  I can’t wait to get back out there and begin to make new stories with you all <3  Once again - thank you! 

((This doesn’t include group rp’s since all involved are on discord so we scream at one another for replies anyways xD))

[hopeandharmonizing]

RP Plotting Sheet : Briar Rieka

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

tagged by: stole it from an old blog

Mun name: Rachel or Teceraca OOC Contact: Start with tumblr IMs. I have discord as well. Talk in the tags.

Who the heck is my muse anyway: 

Creeping up on middle-age, part-time Happy Huntress, part-time musical performer, wolf faunus lady who occasionally plays with gender presentation, mostly on stage. She has a painful past, but it only hardened her into a stronger, kinder self who wants to help everyone else to never hurt that badly, or at least not have to shoulder the pain alone. All she wants is to empower people, and yet all she seems to do it make them weaker and intimidated in her presence. Regardless, she continues to try and inspire through words and music, and protect through fists and claws.

Points of interest: 

black and white wolf tail, thorny vine tattoos wrapping most of her body, a semblance which cancels out others’ semblances, skilled in Aikido, guitar, keyboard/piano, and vocals. Graduate of Sanctum and Atlas Academies. Her huntress license lapsed after its first expiration date and remained that way for ~10 years until she reinstated at the behest of Robyn Hill. She will love you if you love yourself, and likewise do her best to truly scare the shit out of you if you mistreat others.

What they’ve been up to recently:

In mainverse, she’s living her best life in Mantle city, trying to bring hope to the masses and occasionally going on stake-outs for Robyn Hill or acting as entertainment or security detail for her rallies.

If you want to meet her somewhere in the past, you can find her either just looking to survive, mastering her music, or completing combat training followed by huntress training. then, trying but failing to work effectively as a licensed huntress, and slowly feeling like she’s lost herself before she finds music again.

Where to find them: 

In chronological order:

Morkmani Village Anima forests Argus Sanctum Academy Atlas Academy Mantle city  - wherever the work was   - performances at nightclubs, bars, street venues, coffee shops, etc  - libraries, cafes, anywhere she can sit and work on her stuff  - her apartment  - supporting other people’s shows! having fun in the crowds.  - out shopping, especially to add to/update her wardrobe with cool shit

Current plans:

make the world better! or at least feel like less of an oncoming storm. continue to be a badass? love as many people as she can. from a distance, usually.

Desired interactions:

WHEEZE. A lot of this is similar to the associations bit in my page but here we go.

Robyn recruiting her to join the huntresses, any and all shenanigans that may follow. Fraternizing with fellow huntresses in general, or missions together.

Qrow and/or Clover semblance shenanigans and training. Also her and Clover generally giving each other shit bc it is just So Much to have those two egos in one room.

Bitching at Ironwood about what trust and loyalty REALLY means or maybe just her venting to someone about him, but this requires her getting to know him somehow in the first place, or at least to hear from others what he is like. idk. this muse has meta feelings about micromanagement, I would love to thread them.

Giving Weiss vocal training classes when she was a lil’ girl. and/or catching up in current verse. 

Briar getting to meet Blake and absolutely gush about her speech at Menagerie bc she saw it from some scroll recordings.

Basically anything with Jaune. I still have no idea what is going to happen when these two semblances meet each other. I do know hers can basically act like a spiritual resistance weight to help his get stronger. It probably goes both ways. Semblance arm wrestling is what I’m sayin’. But also she just.......... she has a lot of feelings. It’s like a Qrow/Clover thing too where she looks at him and sees everything she could be, but isn’t. She’s too proud. Help her work through this and question herself a little bit so she can come out better for it, and realize they are both different yet who they are supposed to be.

Silver eyes training with Ruby!!!! She doesn’t know anything about them besides what she’d find out from the crew, but she does have plenty of skills and pep talks that can probably help Ruby focus and/or project her power. Briar's semblance color is silver for a reason.

Semblance/aura training with anyone in general. But when I say that I also mean “learning not to rely on your semblance” training. She’s good for that. She may get being a professor for it added to either her history or her future, idk yet.

This also leads into being able to have a discussion with Oscar/Ozpin about a different take that can help her fully realize her semblance abilities. If you’re interested, we can chat mun to mun so I can let you know my ideas and you can decide how your muse wants to guide her through it.

Other OCs idk who what where when why how but that’s exactly the point. the whole verse is our oyster, let’s see what happens. come @ me. let’s let our muses help develop each other.

Offered interactions:

Briar’s actually pretty easy to have interactions with villains? She probably won’t know any better if she runs into them and they aren’t immediately stirring trouble. For better or worse, she’ll give them the benefit of the doubt if they are trying to confide in her about something or just chatting.

Also I haven’t made one yet but she’d be damn good for a villain herself AU.

She will listen to you! She will sing to you!! She wants to make you happy and help you grow, plz come to her with whatever. (Or vice versa! She’s not difficult to get to open up and she will talk with you about her own doubts and demons if u want).

Anyone can watch one of her performances and/or come find her hanging around the venue afterwards. I’ll probably make some opens for this kind of thing.

Are you another performer character??? Duets??? duets.

Faunus mentor!! Music mentor!!

Sanctum or Atlas Academy student days can be a thing. Likewise for her more interspersed street performances during those times.

future volume interactions if you’re comfortable with hcs of what goes down until we find out canon. She can go after Robyn/Qrow in the immediate timeframe, or run into any of the kids in the process. I like to think she joins up with the main cast to head to Vacuo when that happens. Whether to just bring her music along for them and/or to start spreading it to more reaches of the world bc hopefully Atlas/Mantle is under control at some point and in good hands with Robyn and however that leadership shakes out, and damn the whole world needs hope right now, so it is... Time To Dream Even Bigger.

Current open post/s: 

here’s the open starter tag!

Anything else?:

I thought there was a shipping section on here but uhhhhhh i’m too much of a wuss to make one myself right now. maybe a bias list in the future. I feel like I should get some general interactions going first. 

Tagging: I’m not making anyone commit to this beast. If you want it, take it and most certainly blame me and tag me so I can read it.

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

rp guidelines.

Mun is Ash. She/Her. 21+. Ruthless Drama King keeps me prisoner. 

This blog is 21+ Nsfw/smut will not be written with those under 21 years old. I will not write with minors. 

I know there are a lot of rules here now but incidents, past stuff in rp scene kind of made it mandatory for myself to put down. Common sense lacks in some too so sorry it’s so long but ya know. Gotta do what we rpers gotta do. <3

tw: potential for triggering content & subject matter due to crime scene investigations/forensic profiling. strong language expected. he is simply a problematic aggressive character in most verses.

no godmodding. unspoken rule but please do not control my character under any circumstances. if you continue to break this rule however I may have to cancel our thread. only in extreme cases.

Don’t have personal triggers but I will not write my muse forcing themselves on any other muse.

any personal triggers you are uncomfortable with I will not write and vice versa.

multiverse/oc friendly. au friendly: discussion on AU’s are love. same char different mun friendly. duplicates are always welcome. personally I love OC’s and this boy cannot get enough interaction from them ever. just so you know. 

Do not screenshot my posts: ooc, threads etc. It is MY content. I should not have to add this but yes this has happened without my knowledge - at first. 

Unfollowing: If there is something you disagree with, do not favor about my writing, portrayal, muse(s) or views the button is always there. Please soft block to unfollow. I will do the same and quietly if it calls for it. 

PSA: Don’t call 60 Connor. He is not Connor. He is his own person. This sort of trumps the significance I have built for him as an individual entity in my characterization/ headcanons/ personal iteration in a fandom where he is overlooked. Also if you do refer to him as such verbally to his face you consent to the wrath and animosity he will bestow upon you be it verbal or potentially physical. Trust me 60 is not fond of being mistaken for his predecessor. (It’s a pet peeve and I’m sorry lol but they’re two separate people. I mean I write Connor too so bear with me.)

plots are love. let's discuss story, char relationships, just anything really. down for plotted, random prompts and memes. my dm’s are always open. if I don’t respond straight away I’m either not on at the moment or I’m just swamped in drafts. I still want you to drop in tho.

replies may take a bit. this is a hobby. if I take a while it doesn’t mean I don’t want to rp. sometimes I forget, tumblr eats my notifs or I haven’t thought up a decent reply as of yet. please be patient. I always offer the same to my rp partners. also I do get swamped in drafts and asks so this does contribute to my reply speed. TLDR: I am slow af but I want to write with you.

want to drop a thread? we all lose muse, get too busy, overwhelmed at times. it is perfectly OK. when I do thread purges I will always post an update and @ those I am keeping threads with. the number of follows I have it is just easier for me to do it this way.

shipping: will ship with chars but there are some I may turn down depending on personal preference. typically ships with another RK800/RK900 are a no. sibling, platonic, enemies is where I go. some exceptions may apply depending on verse type but his exclusive and only RK800 ship is with @rob0badge . 60 also would like platonic, friend and enemy ships to counter his romantic ships. any and all are appreciated. 

open to smut threads. 21+ very explicit at times depending on verse. 60 is ruthless. fair warning. also smut is not a requirement for romantic ships. if you’re not down for that then 60 is all about the respect of his partner’s wishes.

multiship friendly: winning rk800-60's affection is not easy in the long run. remember he is not easy to get along with. 

Shipping Additions: I WILL NOT ship cross unless it is plotted mutually between all parties. even then I will be selective about it. please respect this. multiverse is a thing and that is what my blog is. it will just be ignored. 

Content Trigger: 60 is very much ruthless despite his fall into deviancy. if you are uncomfortable with intense personalities this may not be the rp blog for you. certain themes will be highly thematic, problematic and even controversial at times. all of these will be tagged accordingly and put under read more for my followers/mutuals. he will be aggressive and hateful depending on circumstances. he is not very nice. however, the mun does not reflect this characterization and is extremely nice to followers. 60 may not share that affinity but the mun has no malicious intent. Only this ruthless boy does.

threads containing 18/21+ material always go under read more. please adhere to all warnings. some subject matter may be unsettling. remember any dark or triggering themes are NOT condoned by me irl. it just needs to be said.

Interactions: non-rp blogs, personals or those not part of current threads: DO NOT REBLOG. this is becoming a problem lately and I really don’t want to be that person but please follow this rule.If you continue to do so you will be BLOCKED. You can like my posts just fine however. In fact it’s welcome! I like to see others enjoying what I write for the ruthless king.

DBH VERSE REQUIRED: It just works better to be able to write adequately and since my muse is from this universe it’s a given. I rarely do crossovers as I feel some just do not work or fit my muse. If I do they are with main mutuals depending on fandom or personal preference.

Mutual Exclusive/RP Blogs Only: This blog is now private. If you follow me and I do the same back it means I want to interact. Otherwise assume I won’t be following back if I haven’t in a week. I have had some odd things come 60′s way and it is why this blog is locked down now.

Follows: If I follow back it means I want to interact with you. If you're a mutual and you still have not interacted with me after several weeks I WILL unfollow. This is nothing against anyone or meant to be unfair/mean spirited. The blog is an rp blog so of course I want to interact with you all. Also I do not just give free follows since this is not a personal blog. 

I would love to follow back depending but if I see no rules or somewhere that states 21 and above for the mun on your blog I won’t. I interact solely with those 21+. I myself am 28 years old. Respect this and don’t lie about your age to me. I have had people lie to me in the past and they’ve been dropped faster then you can shout “Deviant Spotted!”

I reserve the right to unfollow anyone for whatever reason including but not limited to rp politics. Ya gurl not here for rp snobbery or assumptions made. If I become uncomfortable I will soft block to unfollow quietly. I also practice block back. Meaning if I’m hardblocked (which is in anyone’s right who is uncomfortable with my content) I will hardblock back. It’s only fair and honestly it’s a lovely page taken out of one of my waifu’s books.

OOC: If you post a crap ton of ooc posts (I mean plz it’s your blog and your content is yours so go for it) I may unfollow if I cannot blacklist them properly. I mean things that aren’t rp related. This is only in extreme cases. My blog has overwhelmed me so the dash being flooded is something I want to clean up.

Replies: As I have stated in updates on this blog I am super busy and backed up. My reply speed is slower due to lots of drafts and asks. You can remind me but please don’t come at me or try to push me. Muse can be fickle. Some days I have it for a specific verse, others I have it for shorter convos or text threads. I aim to reply to everyone but keep in mind running this blog is not easy and I want it be fun for me. It’s a hobby.  When I have to worry and hide from people this is no longer that. If it continues I will drop the thread completely. Only in extreme cases. 

Pressuring: Do not come into my inbox on anon passive aggressively asking when I will reply to threads. If you honestly want to remind me like a normal person my dms are open to mutuals only. Do not guilt me into rping. If you pressure and attempt manipulating me you will be blocked. This has happened and I will not put up with it. 

Please reblog any memes/prompts from the source and not this blog. I am not an rp source or creator of these. If you continue to do this and just harvest my blog for memes without even interacting I will unfollow/block. If you reblog send me one then. If not well do not do it. non-mutuals do not reblog anything at all from this blog. Also I  have to mention some people have used me as a source WITHOUT reblogging from me. Meaning they see the meme and reblog it for themselves as a means of bypassing sending in anything. If we’re mutuals why are you doing this? It will just make me think you do not want to interact.

Asks: Do not reblog asks. Please if you wish to continue make a new post and link back to ask. It just makes my dash a little cleaner and I want to avoid extra asks in the inbox continuing it when we can turn them into convo threads. So please don’t keep sending asks to continue a plot line. Thread it.

IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT HATE & ASSUMPTIONS: If I discover you sending hate on anon to anybody you’re gone. If you send hate to people about what they ship, especially to female muns/muses, you’re gone. I will not tolerate hate of any kind and if I see you talking negatively about any female muse I will soft block you quietly. I just do not want to interact with you. People who assume generalized posts are about them when I follow you will be softblocked as well. Honestly it’s a given that if I’m following it’s not directed at you. I will not put up with assumptions or continue to view it on my dash. Unfollow me, softblock me, etc. It’s not difficult. My comfort levels are important to me as well as yours should be.

I will not  interact with egoists. If I see anything that wigs me out I will just softblock quietly. Elitists go home. I don’t want you here. 

I will never rush or be pushy at my partners. I’m so chill about threads. please take your time. let’s never take the fun out of it. never think you’re taking too long or bothering me. DM’s are open to my mutuals only.

I do not do passwords or send messages of any kind. If I am following you rest assured that I have read your rules. I do this automatically when someone follows me and vice versa since I expect the same. If I’m liking update posts you can consider that me seeing it as well. 

unfollowing/refollowing: Don’t do it on my blog. If you follow and then unfollow but for some reason come back to follow you get blocked from my side. I don’t need the bs or the attention seeking.

Duplicates are amazing but I will be selective who I follow back and interact with. Nothing personal but I have been the victim of theft in the past. It’s an unfortunate thing but my characterization and headcanons for 60 are my own. I have been writing this boy forever even long before I made this blog. I’m highly protective of my ruthless king. He is my baby after all.

softblocks: I remove people by doing this. It could be for any reason to be honest. We never interact, you keep dropping our stuff, show no interest, I don’t see us interacting after all or any number of reasons to make my dash more comfortable. Do not ask me why I did it. That’s my comfort. No hard feelings. Just move on. I don’t have to cater to you. If you don’t like my methods use the unfollow button and leave my blog. Simple enough.

hardbocking/blacklisting: Yes I have done it. Am I going to blatantly broadcast it for all to see? Nope. I am not obligated to explain why I blocked you. Most times you have broken my rules despite me reminding to read them. Other times there are people I just do not want to see and that is my right not to see them. Same goes for you. Block me if you do not like what you see. I will not censor myself, my writing or who I interact with.

ostracizing people in the rpc: If you don’t like who I am interacting with use your blacklist function. NEVER tell me not to interact with them. If I find out you practice this exclusion tactic on others in the rpc I will purge you off my blog no questions or explanation needed. I totally get it. There are people I don’t like. No one is going to like everyone but do you see me telling others NOT to write with them? Hell no because I know for a fact they have done it to me and others love to listen without all sides to a story.

I also drop people who vague in public servers because it’s straight up childish behavior. I also will not follow or interact with anyone who guilt trips, suicide baits or lies with a pity party song and dance. When you’re found out to be lying or telling other people not to interact with somebody in this RPC I want nothing to do with you. Move on. That’s it. 

Drop a like if you made it this far. Whew! No passwords needed. Even if you don’t drop a like it won’t prevent me interacting it’s just nice to see. 

[smutandfluffohmy]

Red String of fate

From: Smutandfluffohmy Character Parings: Peter Pan X Reader Request: Not requested but needed to work on something. Most of my Peter/Felix requests are smut and I needed a bit of a change.  A/N: If anyone has any painstakingly overly fluffy request please send them my way (character parings doesn't matter wink wonk). Also anon that requested the Buffy fics I'm soooo sorry I’m being mean and its been hard getting through the show but I WILL get through it have patience with me plz.

The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break

Storybrooke was filled with people. People that would go out to eat at Grannies, would go on picnics in the park, would watch movies in the old theater all of them hand in hand with their soulmate. Happy faces living happy lives that mocked you day in and day out. You could remember the days when red strings would pool around peoples feet as they would twirl them around often tugging at them with hope that they would get an answer. Ever since the curse was broken strings got shorter, tugs would get responses and soon the town was string free. You missed the red strings, you missed people wondering when they would meet their soulmate. Maybe you wouldn’t miss them as much if you could meet the person at the end of your string.Storybrooke was filled with people that were deeply in love and you hated it.

“We don’t know what’s coming but this isn’t a regular storm.It would be for the best if we all stayed here until it passes through.” Regina said speaking to everyone in the meeting, watching as she pointed to the dark clouds getting closer.

“How do you know it isn’t a regular storm?” Someone called out from the crowd.

“Wouldn’t it be better if we all went back home?” Another person called out and soon questions started being called from different places in the room,you watched as Emma and Regina tried to calm everyone down. Sighing, your eyes wandered to look outside the window. Rain droplets hit the windows as the arguments continued around the room, guess it was just rain after all. You gathered your things and putting on your jacket ,that you were using to hide your string, wrapping your arms around yourself and got off your chair.

The rain hit slowly against the window, there was no seeing when the argument would stop and you couldn’t see Regina or Emma admitting they were wrong and you didn’t want to sit in a plastic chair until this boils down. Opening one of the heavy doors slowly you slip out into the drizzling rain, holding your string tightly in your hand.

Sniffling you picked up your pace wanting to get home as quickly as possible. The loose pavement crunched under your shoes as the rain started to pour down harder.

‘Fuck fuck fuck’ you thought picking up your pace wrapping your jacket closer to you. The closer you got to your home the harder it seemed to pour down, your jacket got drenched and you were shivering as a cold wind blew through. Tugging at your string impatiently cursing at yourself for leaving the meeting.

The soft lights coming from streetlights and some store that were left on in a rush as the owners rushed to go to the town meeting, walking alongside the stores you felt a small tug on your string. Stopping dead in your tracks you gripped your steering tighter in your hand, when you did you felt another hard tug. Your heart rate speedup, thumping loudly against your chest your grip tightening on the red string. Looking down at it you saw it tangled on a button on your bag, untying it quickly you give it a hard pull waiting for a response. You waited in the pouring rain but got nothing, it must have just been the bag pulling at it. You sighed continuing your walk home, trying to ignore the prickling feeling of tears threatening to fall down your face.

It was stupid. It was stupid to get your hopes up, you sighed and continued walking home. You looked forward, seeing your lights on spilling out into the street. The small victorian house felt too big, there was too many rooms and you couldn’t pick up enough hobbies to fill them, Gold and Regina made houses and occupations that fit everyone but this just felt like a cruel joke. When the curse was still around you used to own a store where you made clothing, you even were in a committed relationship, you had friends ,a best friend and colleague. You missed those days and wanted to go back but you never said anything. It was selfish to want someone to be with you even when it wasn’t really them that loved you.

It’s not fair to want people to not remember their loved ones, their old lives but it’s not fair that you can’t remember who you are. Tears were streaming down your face but it doesn't matter because you were feet away from your front door.

You felt another tug on your string, through tears you grabbed your bag trying to untangle it from another button but there wasn’t. You dropped your bag at your feet and turned around, breathing heavily squinting through the heavy rain and the darkness.

“Hello? Umm is anyone out there?” You called out into the dark streets, trying to scream over the sound of the rain. Holding on tightly to your string you gave it a soft tug.

“I-I can feel you!” You called out again giving it a harder tug , but the street remained empty and the only sound was the rain hitting against rooftops.You dug through your pockets looking for your phone to give out some light, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone but you couldn’t find it inside your pockets.

“I think this is yours” A voice said from behind you, turning around you came face to face with a boy the held your bag in his hands. You tensed up reaching for it and grabbing it out of the strangers hands, pulling it close to you.

“Thanks.” You said as it got dropped out from the sound of the rain. You were about to reach for your string when you heard voices echo throughout the empty streets causing you to look back as people started to leave the meeting.

“Maybe we should go inside you’ll catch a cold.” The boy said as he motioned at the lit ice cream shop, which was dead empty and despite Elsa being a usually nice person both of you didn’t get on very well.

“My house is just three doors down but thank you.” You said feeling yourself shiver underneath your damp clothing. Reaching for your string to give it one last pull just to double check but before you could tug at it you felt it tug first.

“I finally found you.” The boy whispered a look of confusion on his face, a look you never saw when someone found their soulmate. “We should really get you inside.” He said grabbing your bag out of your hands and waiting for you to lead the way.

“I’ve never seen you in Storybrooke before. What’s your name?” You asked as you tried walking as quickly as you could back to your house being careful not to lose sight of the boy, afraid he would wonder too far and get lost in the rain forever.

“I’m not really from around here.” He said staying by your side as you reached into your pockets to take out your keys, unlocking it you both slipped inside the warm air hitting you hard. He placed your bag on a table that was near the entrance giving you a tight smile he crossed his arms over his chest. “It was nice meeting you I should go.” He said reaching for the door knob.

“Wait you can’t go! I mean. I’ve been looking for you my entire life at least stay and have some hot chocolate.” You urged leading him slowly into the kitchen trying to get him as far away from the door as possible.

“Look lady I don’t know what you think this is but I have to go.” He said but despite his words he continued to follow you into the kitchen. Taking out milk and cups careful to keep your eyes on him worried if you blinked he would disappear as quickly as he came.

“Don’t call me lady. My name’s Y/N.” You said setting down the mugs on the counter and leaning against it.

“Well love, I’m Peter Pan I’ll see you later.” He said so quickly that you almost thought you misheard him.

“Peter Pan.” You whispered under your breath knitting your eyebrows together trying to remember where you heard that name before. “Wait you can’t just leave.” You said walking closer to him worry filling you.

“And why no-” He started saying but was interrupted with a knock that came from the door.

“Don’t go anywhere” You said to him which was only greated with him rolling his eyes. “Please just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything.” You pleaded with him, he just sighed and walked over to the abandoned mugs. You stood there as the knocking continued just looking at him.

“Well go on I’ll be here making hot chocolate.” He said waving you away boiling the milk you had out. Nodding you ran to answer the door, throwing the door open you tried your best to calm down.

“Hi Dr.Hopper how can I help you?” You said with a big smile looking at Dr.Hopper who was standing under his umbrella.

“Hi Y/n. I saw that you left early from the meeting and we just went over a couple of things and though I should fill you…” He droned on as you could feel your heart drop to your feet, you stood there for what felt like hours before he finally said goodbye.

“Thank you Dr.Hopper.” You said in a daze as you closed the door locking it tightly. Walking back to the kitchen you saw Peter carefully bringing the full mugs to a table careful not to spill any.

“I tried looking for some marshmallows but I don’t know where you keep them so I-” He said looking from the hot chocolate to you. You stood there trying to understand how you were going to explain yourself. “What’s wrong?” He asked walking closer to you.

“You have to leave.”

“What? Wait you were just begging me to stay and all of a sudden you’re telling me to leave.” He said furrowing his eyebrows together.

“They- they’re planning to kill you.” You said trying to look everywhere except for Peter. “You have to leave now.” You said panic ensuing inside of you, you would rather have a lost soulmate than a dead soulmate but they were both causing you equally as much pain. Peter nodded and without a word started walking towards your front door, you could feel your heart crush inside your chest.

“Come with me.” He said confusing you as he broke the silence that had fallen between the both of you.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Anywhere you want.” He said walking closer to you grabbing your cold hands in his, his eyes begging for you to follow him out the door but not having the words to tell you.

“How about we go get that hot chocolate?” You smiled at him, grabbing his hands a bit tighter wanting to make sure this was real. Wanting to make sure you were actually planning to run away with a person that set fear and panic in everyone in the town right now.

He couldn’t be that bad. All the bad things people would say about him couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be the devil not with a smile like that that warmed your heart, not with green eyes like that.

“Let’s go.” He smiled at you, bringing you in closer to him as the sound of everything around you felt far away.

[tomnhaz]

In and Out: T.H. x reader

Word Count: 1.6k 

Warnings: maybe some cursing ? 

Notes: heyo, plz let me know what you thought about this one...ive been experimenting with writing styles

“Y/N, please just listen to me. I can explain.’ Tom shouted back at you, his hands running through his hair as he tried desperately to block you from running out the front door.

You had been struggling to stop the tears from running you face, but you had given up, the burning sensation in the back of your throat finally becoming too much for you to bear. You couldn’t even look up at, the thought of seeing the pain that was hiding in his eyes too much for your fragile heart to bear. Instead, you looked at the ground - you stared at your shoes, memorizing the patches of mud and analyzing the thread woven in and out of the seams. You felt your mind get lost in the simplicity of the in and out, in and out, in and out - eerily similar to your and Tom’s relationship, in and out, in and out, in and out.

‘Y/N!’ Tom shouted, you head snapping up at him, your gaze accidentally catching his hazel eyes, tears brimming on his eyelids and his bottom lip quivering. You cursed yourself for falling for it and quickly whipped your gaze back to the ground, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to block his voice from your mind, trying to float your attention in and out, in and out, in and out. Your mind wandered to the hallway of Harrison’s flat. In -

‘Mate, I can’t believe you haven’t told her.’ Harrison had whispered, despite the fact that they didn’t even know you were there. Wait, what hadn’t he told you? You had been about to walk into the living room when you had heard the two speaking in hushed tones, your movements stopped and you leaned in closer to hear.

‘Ugh,’ Tom groaned, you knew he was leaning back, most likely running his hand through his messy brown hair. ‘I’m going to, I just need to find the right time’

Right time for what? You thought. You felt your heart began to race and butterflies began to float around in the pit of your stomach, but they weren’t the beautiful kind.

‘Tom, you need to tell her before she finds out on her own.’ Harrison warned, his tone becoming surprisingly ominous which did do anything to calm the panic that was quickly developing inside of you. Your grip tightened around your the strap of your purse, you didn’t know what it was that Tom was hiding from you but whatever it was you knew it wasn’t good.

‘Yea, I get it Harrison.’ Tom mumbled annoyingly, almost as if this conversation was one they had had before.

‘I don’t think you do Tom!’ Harrison suddenly exclaimed. You could hear shuffling from the other side of the door, and you took a step away in case they came out. After a few moments of quiet you stepped closer once again, pressing your ear to the door so you could hear. ‘Tom,’ Harrison was still speaking loudly, evidently they still had no clue that you had arrived, ‘If she finds out that your entire relationship is built on a lie, I know for a fact that she is going to be more than pissed at you.’

‘Harrison-’ Tom started, once again sounding frustrated.

‘No, Tom! I can’t sit by and watch you break this girl’s heart. Y/N is a good person, and I have no doubt in my mind that the two of you are in love, but you can’t keep her in the dark about your intentions.’

‘I get it, Harrison! Okay? I get it, but what exactly do you want me to say to her? ‘Hey, Y/N I know we’ve been dating for a little over a year now, but I just wanted to let you know that I only started dating you because my manager told me it’d help my image. Thanks, love you.’, Tom let out a facetious laugh, but your breath was stuck. You throat burned, you couldn’t breathe, you felt your vision blur and your heart numb. You didn’t stick around to hear anymore - you turned and walked out, letting the front door slam behind you.

‘Y/N, love, please. Listen to me.’, - Out. Evidently your tactics weren’t working.

‘I can explain, darling. Please, I love you. I need you to know that I love you.’, you could see Tom take a step closer to you from the corner of your eye - and this time you didn’t shrink away.

You looked up at him, this time not letting your gaze falter you stared bravely into his brown eyes, sparkling from the tears. You had fallen in love with his eyes first; the innocence and honesty that they conveyed.

‘What do you want from me, Tom?’ you spoke, your voice breaking at a barely audible volume, but Tom strained his ears to hear. He was about to speak again, but you shook your head in disbelief and interrupted him, ‘How do you expect me to believe anything you say?’

‘Love, please. I-’ Tom started, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, but you ripped your arm away. Staring deeply into his eyes with a piercing gaze.

‘You lied to me, Tom.’, you wrapped your arms around your torso, trying desperately to make yourself feel smaller, to hide yourself from the embarrassment. You had given everything, your love, your time, your trust - everything. You had given Tom everything and he through it all away with a wave of his hand. You could feel your chest tighten and your breathing become shallow, and you began to panic.

In and out, in and out, in and out. Except this time the voice wasn’t inside your own head, it was Tom. Somehow you had ended up on the floor, Tom’s arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, your head resting against his chest as he held you close.

‘In and out, love. In and out.’ he whispered, soothingly into your ears. You felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease up, yet you tensed within Tom’s grasp. You sat up in an attempt to escape from his embrace, but Tom’s grabbed your shoulders and turned your body so you were face to face. ‘Y/N, please. Just one minute.’, he stared pleadingly at you, begging desperately for you to give him a chance, ‘Just give me one minute to explain.’

You stared back into his baby brown eyes, knowing that you could never say no to them, ‘You have one minute’ you muttered.

Tom shifted slightly, his hands moving down to grab your own and pull them into his lap, his gaze falling to your intertwined fingers. ‘My manager called me a few months ago and told me that I needed to re-establish my image, that I wasn’t getting enough publicity.’ you could hear the hostility in Tom’s voice, ‘He told me that I needed to find a way to get into the news, and I asked him what that meant.’, he paused, swallowing and taking a deep breath before continuing, ‘He suggested that I find a girlfriend.’

You could feel tears beginning to brim and your throat developed that all too familiar burning sensation. So that’s all you were - a marketing ploy. A way for Tom to get his name in the news, and then you were out. In and out. In and out. In and out, in and out, in and out.

‘Y/N?’ Tom’s voice brought you back to reality, a few tears falling down your cheeks which Tom was quick to reach up and wipe away. ‘Y/N, I need you to know that you are not just some sort of tool for me, okay? Within minutes of talking with you that first day I knew you were different, I-I- I knew that this wasn’t going to be a one and done like I was supposed to.’, his voice getting frantic as he knew he was losing you.

‘My manager called me after 3 months telling me that I needed to dump you, that the work was done, but I to- told him I couldn’t. I told him I was in love with you.’, you brought your teary gaze up to look into his eyes - his beautiful, honest eyes. Looking into his gaze you knew he was telling the truth, but that still didn’t make the pain hurt any less.

‘I am in love with you, Y/N. And if you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.’, he whispered, the hand that had wiped away your tears was now cupping your cheeks, bringing your forehead to rest against his own. You brought your free hand up to grab ahold of his wrist, your silent way of telling him to stay. Tom gently trailed his fingers down to your chin as he gently pulled you in for a soft kiss, you pulled away, resting your forehead against his once again, and you heard Tom let out a breath of relief. In and out. In and out. In and out - together.

[lunamanar]

Embodiment

So, the last three or four years have been...rough. It’s weird, the way time seems to warp when you’re going through something. You think of your current, extended trauma as being somehow apart from the life you were living before it started, and you keep thinking it’s just temporary, and that once it’s over, you’ll be able to get back to the way things were. Time will start again. ‘Now’ doesn’t really count. 

And you keep waiting for “now” to be over...but it just keeps going, and pretty soon you’re not sure if it’s ever going to end. Like you’ve been diverted down some darker timeline that isn’t really yours, but there’s also no going back. 

It feels horrible. It feels like you’ve been lied to. This wasn’t part of the plan, it was supposed to be a detour that would ultimately circle back to the main road, and home. Now you’re in some strange place, you’re lost, you have no GPS signal, and the 'detour’ has vanished behind you. Wherever you are, you’re here. ‘Home’ is a memory. This is it, this mess is your life, now, and you never wanted it to be this way, but you can’t change it, so you have to find some way of living with it...and with your grief. 

I spent three years thinking I was still on the detour, waiting for the moment everything felt safe again and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief that it was all over. I thought that moment would come when I bought this house. When my husband finally moved up with me from the old house. When I finally started working from home. When I got my promised raise. When I finished the last of my three years of training. When, finally, I sold my old house. 

But months after that last milestone was reached, I was still lost. I’ve been working steadily in the job I’d fought so hard to acquire. I managed to keep in touch with Tumblr and Discord for the first couple years, but as time dragged on and my schedule never quieted, my energy began to flag. I fought that; I’ve done everything I can to make this new house Like Home. The walls are painted, pictures are hung (which is more progress than we made on the old house in our 6 years of living there!), we replaced flooring. I got a new computer, a monster rig I built myself that will hopefully last me another 10 years, just like its predecessor. Got a new car. I’ve done everything to infuse this place with myself, my family, my interests. Everything that makes me who I am. Everything outward about my life would have you believe that I’ve settled, that this is home to me, now. It should be. 

And still, I’ve found myself holding my breath, waiting for Time to start again. 

It’s been so confusing. Nothing makes sense: why haven’t things gone back to normal? Why do I feel so displaced? Why doesn’t my bed feel like it used to at the other place? Why can’t I concentrate? Why can’t I feel safe enough, settled enough to go back to writing? After all this struggle and accomplishment, why do I feel like such a goddamn failure?

Where’s that feeling I used to have of connectedness? Of confidence? What’s happened to me that I’m so insecure and lost-feeling, flinching at every perceived danger to my self-worth? I’ve done so much, come so far! Everything should be fine. I shouldn’t be this broken. I’ve built this life, this house all around me. I should be home, by now. 

This confusion, and the creeping fear and despair that follows it, along with a grueling work schedule, has resulted not only in my continued silence (albeit with occasional pop-ins to deal with situations of immediacy, like the tumblr purge, as well as simply to indicate “I’m not dead, no one steal my url plz lol”), but a stagnation in my creativity. Not that I haven’t raged against the dying of the light--not a week goes by I don’t open a story I’d been working on in 2015 and at least stare at it for a few minutes--but the vision, the enthusiasm I had for them before eluded me, and any words I put down were more this seems to go here than this is what happened, like I was finishing someone else’s abandoned jigsaw puzzle. I could still see where all the pieces went and even how they fit together, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work for me. I feel my way through my writing puzzles. I know what goes where, because I just know. I don’t have to look. 

That was gone, and it was the same everywhere. These stories felt vast and overwhelming, and I was no longer grand enough to contain them. I wasn’t an integral part of them, like I had been. I was just another visitor, constantly checking my map, trying to figure out just where the hell I was going with all this. I was small and too disconnected to feel like I had the authority to write for this world, or any other. To say anything about it at all, really. I’d gone away, and like so many other spectres of home, it didn’t know me, anymore. 

To say I’ve felt isolated, even abandoned, for the past several months, would be an understatement. I’ve blamed no one but myself. I made the choice to take this job, to uproot myself and move everything and everyone I knew to a place none of us had lived before, on the premise that it would make our lives better. I’m the one who turned off the main road. I was behind the wheel, for all of this. If that frankly traumatic process had destroyed my ability to be open, to be grand, to remember how to feel and lift up all of the things I love and let them breathe through my words, then that was my fault. 

It sounds dramatic, I guess. But, I imagine, a lot of people who write understand this experience of feeling at once both insignificantly small and unfathomably vast all at once, where you can feel exactly how the influence of your words changes the world and its story as you write them, such that you don’t really have to think about it; you change the trajectory slightly, and the world in your head shifts with it naturally. You don’t have to remember to change this or that detail later to align it. You already know it’s changed to reflect what you’ve done, because of course it has. You know what a character would say in any given situation, because you put them in it and they’re there, saying it. You at once have no real control over it, while being utterly tuned into it, to the point of omniscience. Being unable to access that part of yourself is suffocating.  

The worst part is when you know that you’re the one choking yourself, but you have no idea how to stop. I know I’m home, everything is okay, so why don’t I feel like it? I could do this, before, I could feel this, before. Where has that feeling gone? Why can’t I remember?

In the midst of this whole transition, I’d slowly stopped doing things that connected me with those feelings. I stopped listening to much music because I had no time. I stopped taking walks because I was too tired and I didn’t know the area. I stopped going on long drives just to talk and listen to music with my husband, because gas is expensive and the tags on that car are expired (still). And, let’s be honest: I stopped taking the pain medication that made relaxing so I could get into that headspace a hell of a lot easier. 

Somehow no single one of these faded habits seemed significant, and by themselves, they probably weren’t. But together, over time, the lack of these and other rituals I’d kept without thinking about it when I lived in NC had closed me off. Unused pathways in my brain became overgrown with other things, thoughts and worries, weeds and vines. When I moved, it wasn’t just the geographical scenery that changed. The landscape of my very neurons changed to cope with the stress, adapt to new social patterns at work, clear out space to make room for all the technical mumbo jumbo being shoveled at me.

The fact is, by the time the dust settled, my whole world had changed, inside and out. Even if I could have gone back to NC, it wouldn’t have mattered at all. 

Realizing this was one of the most depressing, horrifying feelings. And the thing was? I knew better. Hell, I wrote a short story years ago that was exactly about this, about a character who had left home with the intent to return, but when he finally got the opportunity to try, too much had changed, about him and the world, to recover the serenity he’d left behind. Now I write about another character whose life changed the day he was separated from his sister, who, in the course of building himself up to be deserving of her again, disconnected himself from the vulnerabilities that had enriched his life and then forgot she even existed. 

This is either obscenely ironic, or it’s absolutely, perfectly human (well, I think it’s both, really). How easily we convince ourselves that that closed road, that turn off into the woods, that slight change in trajectory is just a detour. We should know better. We do it anyway. That’s why is a horror trope. 

I’ve been lost in those woods for years. I got out, just yesterday. I escaped because I was attacked by a monster. Something happened to me in those woods. I almost lost someone I loved. No, I don’t want to talk about it. 

But it’s a fact that a side-effect of the event was to mark a definitive end to the endless transition. My life now is very different from what it was two days ago. No more limbo, no more waiting. Time has started again. It was necessary to tear up the brambles in my brain to free the gears and expose the roots of deeper things beneath. 

Here’s what I learned, or rather, lived: everything changes. There is no going back, but the starting point, home and whatever that means to you, will always be there, somewhere, even if the roads you took to get there are thick with obstructing experiences. Those roads have roots in you, and those threads are how you’ll find your way. 

If you do, by choice or chance, the home you’ll come back to will have changed, too, thrived or crumbled as you’ve allowed it. You may or may not want to linger; I imagine that would depend on the person. As for me, I feel incredibly lucky. I was welcomed in my dreams. 

Not welcomed back. It’s not a question of being back. It’s being here, and knowing what you’re about. It’s accepting home for what it is: the embodiment of connection and definition. Roots and branches that enable everything you are to feel and breathe. 

It’s easy to lose those magical taps, the points from which we draw inspiration and awe. If you find yourself cut off from them entirely, regardless where your life has taken you, you can die right there on the vine. I can’t tell anyone what feeds their soul, but I will say it’s worth learning what that is, and that no matter how quick of a detour you think you’re taking, you keep those things close to your chest. They’re what you’ll need to reach for, in the end. 

Hello, again.

[professortennant]

Sam/Jack Rec List, Pt. 1

This is mostly for me in case my bookmarks are lost but yeah! I’ve gone through like 90% of AO3, a good chunk of ff.net, and I just dived into LJ. But since I have 103 fics already bookmarked, I’m just gonna put this list up first and then add to it later. 

Plz read the tags of each fic to avoid stuff you don’t wanna read. If you read something and love it, GO TELL THE AUTHOR SO THEY WRITE MORE.

Absolute Fucking Favorites (aka I have read these more times than I feel comfortable admitting)

We Made It Series: A series of connected episode tags beginning with Forever in a Day. Sam shows up on Jack's doorstep with a six pack of beer, a bottle of cheap wine and a package of chicken breasts. Jack's confused. They cook dinner.

Taking Christmas Off: How Sam and Jack end up spending Christmas alone together every single year, accidentally at first, and then very much on purpose. A fluffy/shippy Christmas fic in eight parts, with spoilers through season 8.

The Dreams We Left Behind: The day Sam Carter marries Pete Shanahan is not the worst day of Jack’s life; he’s already lived that day. But that doesn't make it easy.

Like Kissing a Stranger: There is not one day he spends on this planet, or any other, that his mouth doesn't get him into trouble.(An episode tag for Point Of View.)

Retrospective: Sam doesn’t give it a name, this feeling. She doesn’t even think about it much, preferring to glimpse it obliquely from the corner of her eye. It’s a secret delight that she shares with no one, scarcely even herself.One story in eight parts charting Sam and Jack’s relationship from the start of S1 to the end of S8.

The Short Straw: She hadn't set out to cheat, certainly, but had thought that she'd at least be able to interpret her own work in a way that would lead to victory. (Tag for Shades of Grey)

Post-Eps/Episode Tags (except for Threads, which is its own category)

The Price of Edora: Sam suffers the consequences of pushing herself too hard in order to bring Jack back from Edora. 

For Just One Taste of This: After that, though, things got tricky and dangerous because they pushed a little more and went a little (a lot) further off that deep end, and soon it was the two of them alone in the empty barracks and this wasn’t wrong, was it, just sitting side by side in the darkness? (Post Divide and Conquer)

Let Your Demons Run: (here can't be that many eyes in the building that haven't noticed her. Post-ep for Entity.

Midnight at the Oasis: What if Abydos wasn't destroyed, and Jack and Sam really did go to Skaara's wedding? A short AU based on the wonderful (!) exchange among the three at the beginning of Full Circle.

Thyself, Unknown: And then they were strangers again and their world was brand new with signs of aging. Beneath the Surface 

Unlearn your Stars: Thera turned her eyes toward the ceiling, as if she could see through the miles of earth and snow to the sky beyond. Something about her seemed to yearn, and for reasons he could not fathom Jonah felt like Thera belonged there. Among the stars. (Beneath the Surface)

Transcendental: Alternate Sam and Jack who got stranded in the alternate timeline in Moebius. 

The Fundamental Theorem of Samantha Carter: Samantha Carter knew precisely what she wanted. And then she didn’t. S.8 Full Alert through Threads with references to Gemini.

The Rainy Season: Tag for The Light. Their arguing was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Icarus Ascending: What if Jack and Sam didn't keep it in the room after all? A/U tag to Divide and Conquer. 

The Space Between: There's a little space between them on the bed. Small enough to be close, but enough space to remind them where the line should be. (tag for Death Knell.)

Mimesis: Jack tries to help Carter deal with her time spent with Fifth and the Replicators.

A Rush of Blood to the Head: "You volunteering to come with me, Carter?" Sam and Jack deal (or don't) with the creation of mini!Jack.

The Breaking Point: Daniel’s ‘death’ in Meridian forces Sam Carter to reevaluate her life and what really matters to her.

Window on a Room: The first time around, Sam had found that face the Colonel was making to be endearing, in the increasingly problematic way she found pretty much everything he did to be endearing. The second time, she had found it alarming - not the Colonel specifically, of course, just the fact that she’d already experienced that exact moment not ten hours earlier. She went from being alarmed on the second loop to being frustrated, baffled and discouraged in subsequent loops as their attempts to stop the looping had all failed. And now that they had settled into this routine, with Sam and Teal’c, loop after loop, learning to translate the altar text themselves, well now she was just tired. Not even the Colonel’s problematically endearing face was helping.Another loop, she thought to herself. Here we go again.

black holes and revelations: It’s late and dark and as far as she’s concerned, the world has stopped for them (they’d done the Earth a few favors, it's time one was returned).

Lifelines: Everyone expects her to be so resilient--but beneath her calm exterior seethe emotions beyond her control and understanding. Months post "Beneath the Surface", Sam finally has to face it all, and find a way to accept the way things have to be.

Reflections on a Broken Surface: Episode tag to Beneath the Surface. How Sam and Jack became a couple in the ep. 

Tilting at Windmills: Jack's struggling to deal with the events of Euronda and Alar's people. Angry, depressed, and alone, he needs Sam's help to find his way home, literally, and figuratively.

untitled: Sam/Jack, word prompt- 'never' Episode tag to Death Knell

the art of reincarnation: Detoxing in a Goa’uld palace, Jack struggles with something he can't let go, and Sam struggles with everything.

Cracks in the Glass: Doctor Carter has stepped through the mirror-seeking refuge from her ravaged world. Her presence forces Sam and Jack to question their own decisions. Sam and Jack focused episode enhancement to "Point of View".

Before the Invitation: A chance meeting in the commissary leads to some unintended revelations. (Set just prior to 'Nemesis')

Threads

Full Disclosure: She looks at him with that complex expression that’s punctuated their relationship ever since Pete barged onto the scene. The one that looks like a question, or a plea – the one he’s never really understood and has never dared pursue.

Down to the Bone: She knows now, what’s essential.

Sooner: Some bonus scenes for "Threads," because a lot went on in and around that episode that we just didn't get to see.

an angel came down: The first Christmas after her father dies is rough. The second Christmas after her father dies is better.

Breathe In: It wasn’t an immediate thing, despite what people thought. They didn’t jump each other the second SG1 was on vacation, with her emotionally vulnerable after her father’s death and no longer engaged, or him now free of SG Command and DC-bound.

Sam or Jack are Tortured/Abused (but it ends happily)

Primary Emotion: After seventeen weeks of torture in a Goa'uld prison, Samantha Carter is rescued by SG-1. In the time that follows she must relearn how to relate to her team, reassess her relationships with both herself and others, and decide whether or not she'll continue to step through the Stargate. Luckily she's got the benefit of a good psychologist and the love of a great man.

Character: SG1 is kidnapped by an alien king who needs Sam to perpetuate his bloodline & will do anything to possess her. The team must find a way to escape before she pays the ultimate price for her defiance. 

Compos Mentis: After Colonel O'Neill is stranded on a seemingly friendly planet, it's up to his team to rescue him. Who they find, though, isn't the man they left behind.

Crawl from the Chasm: After Jack's experiences in Ba'al's Abyss, he struggles to find peace. Angsty Jack/Sam Ship.

After All: They’d been trapped for a month. He’d been tortured within an inch of her life. And then their roles had been reversed.

All We Need of Hell: Jack is captured and tortured and when he returns, he just doesn’t see the point in following the regs anymore--Sam is essential. And he convinces her to forget the regs, too. (Dark fic). (chap 2)

Aliens Made Them Do It

Auctions and Consequences: Slavery has been abolished for good reason, but apparently not everyone got the memo… landing Sam and Jack in hot water.

Auction and Reaction (sequel to the above): Jack manages to get himself captured and Sam is sent to negotiate for his freedom. Unfortunately, the matriarch in charge of the male slaves is unconvinced of her claim and threatens to keep Jack as her personal slave.

Relief: How they'd managed to gate to a planet right in the middle of their annual fertility festival was beyond him.

in doorways and dreams i run to you: They had stepped through the gate together. They were looking for something.Light.There had been a blinding light and then nothing. Nothing but the heat and the taste of his skin on her lips. And now he was on his knees and she wasn't stopping him from sliding a hand underneath her.

Beautiful Far Away: While on a routine exploratory mission, Colonel Jack O'Neill and Captain Samantha Carter get caught up in a children's game that turns out to be the beginning of Rorilian marriage rites. When seismic activity starts to rock the village, the local leaders demand the ritual be seen through to its natural conclusion to avoid further angering their gods. Sam's equipment suggests the tremors are caused by an unidentifiable metal, but her science seems to be a point of contention amongst the leaders. She's convinced she needs just a little more time to figure out what is happening on the planet. Unfortunately, that means she's jumping into a ritual marriage with her new commanding officer. What could possibly go wrong?

Xanadu: The team travels offworld to take care of some mining negotiations, only to meet with an unanticipated challenge on P3X-427.

5 Times Fic

Five Times Jack Sees Sam Out of Uniform

The Nature We Leave Behind Us: 5 Times Daniel (and Teal’c) find out or suspect about Sam and Jack

Five Times Jack Came Close to Breaking the Frat Regs with Sam

Desperation: 5 times Jack kisses Sam

Ambient: 3 morning-afters that they miss and 1 they don’t.

5 missing ship scenes from s9/s10

5 times jack asked sam out and 1 time he didn’t have to

Stranded/Retired/Moved Off-World

My Scars Healed (aka the Cottage AU): Abandoned off-world, living is about more than just survival.

In Media Res: When Sam and Jack are taken captive and put to work in a mining camp, that turns out to be the least of their troubles. Forced by circumstance to live in close proximity, their time as captives has consequences neither one foresees.

Compliance: The end comes fast. One moment it’s a normal day with paperwork and bad coffee and the next it’s a scramble for the event horizon as the Mountain comes down around them. The base empties out with surprising efficiency, and by the time Jack hangs up the red phone on the last conversation he’ll ever have with the President, only Carter and Daniel and a couple techs are still in the gate room, the last of the supplies being sent through to their fall back site.

I Love It When a Plan Comes Together: Dear Airline, I was marooned on an alien planet…

And then I dreamt of yes: The universe has really bad timing, but neither Sam or Jack is ready to give it the last word. 

The Final Straw: Sam's injured and trapped off-world. 

Twilight: General O'Neill gets ansty to do some Gate travel, but a natural phenomenon on another world causes problems and changes things

Bird Stealing Bread: Jack had actually imagined being stranded off-world quite a few times. But he really, really, really hadn't counted on being stranded off-world with Sam. And Pete.

Under the Sun: ABANDONED FIC BUT IT’S SO GOOD. When lightning strikes the DHD and strands Sam and Jack alone on a planet, they must rely on one another to get through until help can arrive. Soon, though, they discover they're not alone on the planet and things change. Suddenly they're thrust into local politics and Sam is drafted to help save the locals' lives. Perhaps, if they play their cards right, all of it can help them get home.

Total AU

String Theory: Dr. Samantha Carter joins the SGC and discovers a life she never expected.

Imprimatura: Even in a completely different reality, where a strictly enforced color-based caste system stands between them, some things remain the same.

How to Start a Fire: She denies it's physical attraction. He denies it's anything but. Sam/Jack. Changeling Universe.

Convergence Series: Jack O’Neill is a man waiting to die, and she’s the only one brave enough not to look away.

Right as rain: Jack never went on the Abydos mission. Charlie never died. But when Jack accidentally activates a device that Kawalsky brings by the Academy, he catches the interest of a certain Major Carter. Soon he finds himself in for one hell of a ride, and if aliens and space travel and weird DNA weren't crazy enough, he might actually be falling in love with a theoretical astrophysicist...

The Dating Game: Catherine Langford had been instrumental in getting AU Sam/Jack together in There But For The Grace of God

Defining Family: Set after "Ripple Effect". What happens to Janet and the rest of the alternate SG-1 team after the episode? How does it affect our reality?

Worlds Apart: An Ancient device sends Jack and Sam to a world where everything is just a little bit... wrong. Why? Can they cope with the differences? And, most importantly, can they find their way back?

I don’t know what to categorize these as but they’re amazing

Deep City Lights: He picks her up in a blue convertible. (Road trip fic where they say ‘fuck the regs’ and then remember the regs)

we build then we break (and build up again): Sam’s last mission on SG-1, and the life that follows.

the slow revelation of self: In the beginning there was sex. And it was good.

untitled: on a mission, sam and jack are painting their mark on a wall.

things not dreamed: Daniel doesn't understand their need to fly. 

Cultural Drift: Six days before the shit hit the fan and nothing was ever the same again, Daniel fell over a tablet on P3X-324. That was two years ago.

Concentric Unto Thee: Her attempts at normality have never worked before, and Jack won't stand for any attempts to apply the logic of command to their relationship.

the lesson: Jack and Sam haven’t wasted the three years they’ve been cut off from Earth…and though the price is high, they manage to teach that lesson to another couple who badly needed to learn it. 

Escape Pod: "I just need," shift, "to move," shift, "a little." (Accidental Stimulation fic) Tonight: It's been too many years of it, the death, the resurrection, the sheer and aching loneliness, the hurt that comes from walking away.

Rocket Fuel: Sam and Jack get together after Heroes but also AU + Christmas.

Home Economics:  He would never have imagined that the biggest problem Sam Carter would have with his house would be his toaster.

Atlantis/Continuum

Gravity Always Wins in the End: After Sam is held hostage, Jack takes an impromptu trip to Atlantis.

Backlit:  Carter turns 43 years old on day 6 of a 14-day run to P98-007 aboard the General Hammond. The only events that mark the occasion are the little note Daniel must have stuffed into her pack before she left, a cheerful "Happy Birthday, Ma'am" from her second over a morning cup of coffee, and a long stare at herself in the mirror after she washes her face before bed. It's not like she expected more.

Yesterday’s Life: She feels frayed and faded, like a scrap of fabric accidentally discarded and forced to weather the elements. S/J, spoilers for Stargate: Continuum.

Distance: Sam contemplates the difficulties of a long distance relationship with Jack on Valentine's Day...

Post-Series

Look Again Into Your Heart: It's not that cold, not by the standard of some of the places she's been in the last decade or so of her life, but then again, she's not used to braving the weather in heels and an evening dress.

Follow the Star of the North: When Jack talked about losing himself in Minnesota, Sam never really understood the appeal.

Radio Silence: “It’s Mitchell.”He grabbed the phone out of her hand, smiling at the horrified expression on her face when he flicked it open and held it to his ear.“This is General O’Neill. Is the world ending?”

Rainy Days: Sam and Jack spend a rainy day at the cabin

The Lies You Feed Yourself: They simply aren’t part of each other’s worlds anymore. They haven’t been for years. Jack and Sam three years after they leave the SGC.

Bygones: He's a man of few words. Sam, however, wants to hear a couple of specific ones - at least once. It takes another woman to help her understand just how her husband communicates. 

Twelve Years Two Weeks: She had finally 'switched off'. It had taken her a few days to rid herself of the itch that she was neglecting a to-do list the size of her arm.

DC Series: SG-1 is moving on, but Sam is standing still.

Interlude: Jack turns up unexpectedly, and he and Sam make an important decision.

fly me to the moon: Jack is baffled. What do you do for a woman's 40th birthday when she routinely explores alien planets, has blown up a sun, and raced in the Loop of Kon Garat? Give her the moon of course. 

Folding a Map: Distance makes Jack an unhappy camper.

Taur’i Whispers: "He likes her throaty laugh. He likes that her voice has dropped and softened in the years he's known her." - Sam/Jack, romance and a bit of angst and hurt/comfort

Blue Dark: The sun’s barely peeking above the horizon and already she’s up, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar in his kitchen, her index finger circling the rim of her coffee cup.“And we have to go to this?” she asks, taking a sip of the hot beverage.

Un-fish: “Caught any un-fish?” she asked softly.Their lives would never be normal because of little things like fish that were or were not there and sometimes he wondered who had done what exactly to his pond to drive the fish away. He knew better than to ask, unwilling to listen to her explain to him the various possibilities of… whatever.

Real Life: This was what she'd been waiting for, held out for all those years. Someone -- him -- to come home with every night, to sink into after saving the world or spending three days dug in on an alien planet with fifty-odd Jaffa between her team and the 'gate, someone who knew just how she liked to be touched... She rolled onto her back, offering sleepy kisses when his lips crossed hers, sighing when his wandering hands brushed across her belly... 

[bubmyg]

Hello sweetheart! Could u plz do a Hobi scenario where he’s lounging with his girlfriend in the practice room and the rest of the dance line come in and steal her away from him because they wanna dance with her and like he starts to feel a lil jealous? Thanks!!!🤩

word count: 948

Hoseok watched you under drooped eyelids, a dashing smirk plastered to his lips as gaunt fingers worked at your ankle. Your feet dangled absently to the part of his thighs where his back pressed into the practice room mirror, mouth chattering something about needing to improve the arch in your foot over the soft playlist blanketing the empty room that he’d plugged into the auxiliary cord in the far corner.

“You’re the dancer,” You winced, trying your best to stretch your toes to accommodate the gentle pressure of his palm. 

Subtle auburn feathered over softly blinking eyelashes as he hushed into the cheesy curve of his mouth, “It’s never a bad thing to stretch, baby.”

You huffed, tugging your knees to your chest to dislodge your grip. Instead, you spread your thighs to roll the edges of your bare feet to the scuffed bottoms of his tennis shoes. A grunt tumbled from your lips as you reached, snatching the limp flatten of his palms against the wooden floor.

“What about this stretch, then?” You leaned, peeling away Hoseok’s sweat stained shoulders from the fogged mirror. 

He easily ducked to the messy pull of your hands threaded around his wrists. Hazel honey eyes flashed over the caramelized apples of his smiling cheeks, soft chuckle articulating a breathy, “Easy.” 

You squealed when he pulled back, arching the touch of his shoulders off the mirror to dug the tip of your nose to his ribs. Strained legs folded underneath you as your limp body was instead pulled easily against his chest. Hoseok easily accepted your half whining figure, looping his arms over your protruding hip as his lips fell to your hairline. 

The serenity lacing to the mingling of your evened breathing was ruined by the door ripping open to the chattering of three individuals. Jimin spotted your embrace first, a wicked smile lacing past plump lips when he caught the sighing pout over your expression. 

“Taehyung!” Jimin’s sing-song emitted as he raced to slide over next to you. “I bet Y/N can learn today’s choreography faster than you did.”

“I bet she can,” The younger rumbled, shrugging off a bouncing Jeongguk with a dashing smile, “She’s a great dancer.”

“Learned everything from me,” Hoseok mumbled in indignation against your temple, squeezing your waist in his palm. 

“Wrong,” You turned, messily bumping your nose against his chin as your smile shined to the fond toothless line of his lips. 

Jeongguk bounded over to slide in next to Jimin, crooked fingers wiggling in your direction. “Bold words,” He mused, “Come dance with us and show us.”

Your lips swiped to the corner of Hoseok’s mouth as you accepted Jeongguk’s grip, allowing him to tug you to a standing position. The three herded you to the middle of the room, stationing the clunk of their shoe clad feet away from the stance of your bare arches as Jimin began explaining the choreography with wide eyes and flailing limbs. 

You’d taken the combination a couple of times with music, a thin layer of sweat beading along your hairline as you listened intently to a correction Jeongguk was insisting. Hoseok continued to observe in mute succession, corrections and suggestions and counts dying on the curled ends of his tongue as he instead bit to the inside of his cheek and shifted his support against the mirror. 

A piece of the footwork was particularly tricky, one that had your curled toes stumbling as Taehyung chanted soft counts behind your movements. Your tripping had four bodies moving at once yet it was Jimin’s hands that caught your waist, holding you in place for a passing moment. 

“You alright?” He checked, dark locks parting across his forehead as he ducked to glance at you. 

“I’m-”

A familiar pair of hands were suddenly replacing Jimin’s, tugging you backward into the curl of a firm chest. Hoseok’s voice was firm over your shoulder as he situated your stature in front of him, “It’s because you weren’t teaching it right. It’s…”

He trailed off, sound effects replacing counts as he instead hummed the tune of the music. Yet, he didn’t allow you free movement, keeping you pressed against the flex of his torso as his toes nudged at your ankles, manipulating the steps as he wished. 

Jeongguk’s voice was hesitant when Hoseok was cheering a soft there you go, better. “Do you guys want the music?” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok lightly pushed you by the small of your back, instead rewarding a pinch to your backside, “You’ve got it this time, baby.”

You nailed it this time, body flowing through the movements to the best your torso could isolate, the best your heels could rut into the wood, the best you could concentrate on the counts while holding Hoseok’s darkening gaze in the mirror. You ended with a huff, hunching over your knees as the continued notes of the chorus trilled through the room. 

Crooked fingertips danced over the small of your back, securing to your far hip as lips pressed to your ear.You straightened, supporting the majority of your weight into his embrace. 

“That was great,” Hoseok praised softly, holding you tightly as his lips melded against your temple. 

Three more figures dashed to crowd around your figure, poking and prodding and chattering. Hoseok’s swatting forearm batted them away, a sharp glare warding off the youngest members. 

“You were right!” Jeongguk lipped with wide eyes, “You are really good. Better than I expected at least.”

“I told you guys,” Hoseok nudged your hip, getting you to look up at him. He smiled, a blinding stretch that preceded the nudge of his lips between your eyebrows. “Learned everything from me.” 

[greyofjakku]

In a Room Set Afire by Ash and Crimson

As requested by a couple people, I️ did a thing and wrote a smut version of the throne room scene. Enjoy & plz remember that English is NOT my first language. Also on Ao3 💜💜💜💜

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Milliseconds before the explosion, Rey’s connection with the Force rears its head with a preternatural knowledge of what is coming.

Miniscule hairs raise along her arms. Static electricity fills the air, making her teeth buzz and bones groan.

A metallic tang, silver and biting, licks at her mouth, makes it taste like anger and burning things.

It is too late.

A flash of light, so brilliant it stains the retina of her eyes with starbursts, echoes across the room, the galaxy, and whatever fated thing connects their damaged souls. A cacophonous resonance that is equal parts thunder and lightning - the tumultuous roar of waves on the ocean and the clash of a spitting red blade and its ancient blue twin.

She’s thrown backwards in its fury, and she feels her back collide with one of those arching pillars, hard.

And then only grey.

Grey everywhere. Mist and smoke and shadows and blood. Light and Dark. Grey .

Then -

Light filtering through smoke, hazy in its diaphanous opulence, thick and choking.

Scattered embers, floating by, sparks of flame and heat. Pinpricks of light in the after, like ever-burning stars.

Rey first registers pain. She rates it, categorizes it, analyzing.

It travels up her back, starting low. Rey guesses a deep, vivid cerise colors where she impacted, sinking deep into the tissue.

It hurts, Maker it hurts, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

She’s had worse.

Taking stock of the rest of her body, a habit from days long past spent in the sweltering sun, jagged landscapes, and gritty sand, she is surprised to find no other afflictions awaiting her attention excepting a piercing ringing in her ears.

She tries to sit up, but the pushing on her back makes her collapse again in vain. A pained cry leaves her ash-dusted lips, angry tears filling her burning eyes.

She takes a deep breath, about to roll onto her side, when her ears detect something amongst the continuous ringing.

The sound of shifting in rubble, a low, but nevertheless audible groan.

She feels when he comes to completely, the tether between them snapping to attention, awakening.

Much to her displeasure, she senses him do a bodily check of himself, just like she does.

Just like she does.

She wonders what other nasty habits they have, both detests and relishes the very thought that this man shared something (many things?) in common with her.

There’s nothing wrong with him - she already knows this and suspects he does too. He has to also know what exactly she is feeling at this very moment, the pain she harbours in her rough, scavenger’s body.

She cannot make out much, her eyes burning with smoke, but she does see the telltale black form of him from across the room.

He stands quicker than expected, scanning the wreckage around him.

For his lightsaber, Rey thinks, but he ignores the black hilted weapon on the ground, the silver chrome pieces of the one they just destroyed near to it.

Over the bond, she feels panic, deep and gripping, choking him with a band-iron fist.

He’s looking for her, she realizes.

Wondering why he doesn’t just tug on their bond, she realizes: all he can feel is her pain, encompassing, nothing more.

I’m here.

She’s not sure why she says it, but she tugs at the starlit bond like it is a thread between them, pulling him towards her.

His eyes do the rest of the work, moving to her side with swift but sure steps.

Initially, she was sure he would strike her down himself, or leave her to the ruin of the throne room.

But now she knows he would never.

She does not like the thought.

Then he’s next to her, wiping her face free of soot, leather gloves cool against her kyberfire-tinged cheeks.

You’re burning, he tells her, and she is unsure as to his meaning.

So are you, she replies anyways.

Biting the glove off his right hand with his teeth, he lifts a hand to her temple, caressing almost.

It is not a touch meant for pleasure, but purpose.

He takes her pain, drinks it like some heady, rich wine, a delicacy on his flickering snake’s tongue.

It changes within him, like he is some type of living power converter. Makes him stronger, gives him strength instead of weakening.

Her back no longer hurts, and so she sits up on her elbows, the world swimming for a moment as she adjusts.

Glancing upwards at where he is still crouched above her, she swallows with a dry throat.

The lack of pain leaves Rey unsure.

Her pain had kept her grounded, sure of something. Now her emotions run rampant.

Through pain I gain strength, Rey thinks to him. Isn’t that what your stupid code says?

A small flicker on his lips, perhaps amusement, perhaps chastisement.

Passion, comes his voice in her head. And that is the way of the Sith, of which I am not apart of. That is what I want to leave behind.

They hold each other’s gazes openly, dark, pupils blown.

Perhaps it is the oxygen-depleted air, the smoky haze, the adrenaline in the both of them.

Perhaps it is something else.Either way, she meets him halfway as their mouths slot over one another.

There is none of the gentle caresses of the force bond, none of the hesitance, the bated breath.

Instead, it’s tongues and teeth and heat.

Hair pulling, nails scraping, ripping clothes down the middle until they hang by mere threads to their flushed bodies.

It’s a battle, not a kiss, yet still the same fight they always find themselves resigned to.

Soon enough, he is nudging her slick thighs apart with a knee, pinning her to the ground with his bare right hand around her neck.

He leans down to rip another kiss from her raw lips, and she pulls him down so that he is hovering just above her.

He is all she can see, consuming her sight, expansive skin and silvery-pink scars and that red sinner’s mouth.

His gloved left hand trails through her viscid heat, finds her more than ready for him.

His eyes are dark, smug, reeking of triumph.

“Join me,” he breathes into her skin, the words red-hot and deliciously soft.

“N-”

The breath leaves both their lungs as he slides into her.

The bond flares, and they experience the other in ways entirely new. She can feel her slick heat wrapped around him, just as he can feel himself pulsing inside of her.

“Move,” Rey growls, commands , and he squeezes her neck warningly in response, his hips snapping into her simultaneously.

The feeling, doubled by their bond, has Rey almost crying out. She bites down hard on her swollen lower lip instead, containing it.

Kylo watches, staring down at her with such a dark, predatory intensity that she finds herself growing slick all over again.

“Join me,” he repeats, teeth gritted and lips pulled back into a fierce sneer.

“No,” Rey resists, opening her legs farther to his onslaught, wrapping them around his lower waist.

“Leave it behind,” he snarls into her ear, hitting a particular spot that has Rey arching against him, keening.

Her protests are weaker now, stilted rejections on single, short breaths.

“Leave it!”

“I won’t,” Rey groans out, fingernails digging into his biceps, breaking skin.

“None of it matters - it doesn’t matter,” he growls around thrusts, one hand still collaring her, the other supporting her back.

His leather gloves slide over where Rey knows she must be bruised from her collision with the pillar, but she hardly cares. She knows she will have many more bruises once the night is over.

“Say it,” he hisses in her ear, teeth gritted, hips snapping again and again and again.

She does not respond this time, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he hits that singular place inside that has her tensing and releasing a single wet sob of pleasure.

“Rey,” he seethes, seeking an answer, a concession of her pride and being.

Suddenly, the force is all around them, crystal clear and thrumming.

He is drawing on it, having it caress places on her, in her, that has her sobbing louder.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally wails, one hand pulling viciously at his obsidian locks as if to cause him pain for making her agree, her legs sliding up and down his sweat-slicked back as he thrusts into her over and over.

“Again.”

“It-,” she chokes on a gasp. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes squeeze shut once more, feeling a molten burn in her belly that hastens with each passing moment.

The bond crescendos, builds until they are both teetering on the edge of falling, of being consumed.

“Let go,” Kylo commands, growls darkly. His words an exact mirror of his desperate yells earlier.

And, this time, she does.

The explosion that lights them both is larger than that of the lightsaber’s, but is inside the cradle of their heads, their very souls. Both are blinded by the sheer intensity.

They are left panting and breathless, but finally whole through the embrace of the force in a room set afire by ash and crimson.