#stargate fic

[ekaterin1701]

I’ve posted before about my taste in fanfic having changed over the past years, and as I’ve got older and life has got tougher, I’m less and less likely to want to read angst-filled stories. I expect I’m not the only one who feels this way.

But… this evening I’ve been going through the fic recommendations from the Gateworld thread of S/J fic recs, as I’d got into the habit of opening new tabs but never getting round to reading them. One recommended author was Surrealis, who seems to have been around from the early years of the SG1 fandom, and is only on LJ, not FFN or AO3. Their fics are mostly angst-y, and I keep reading one, being annoyed with myself for reading something that is clearly labelled as angst (including a depressing post-Threads story where Jack doesn’t break up with Kerry), then reading another one. Why do I do this?

They are a really good writer, but I’m just not helping myself, am I?!?

[acrowbyanyothername]

lads i have a fic for u

pls enjoy

Summary: “You actually married Nancy?” John said, mouth agape. “Why would you put yourself through that?”

Rodney’s own Sheppard looked constipated. Maybe the two weren’t as alike as he had originally thought.

[finalgirlkateausten]

Concussion Protocol

set after 9x09. established relationship carolyn/cam. cameron is grumpy about base concussion protocols, but not even dating the base CMO gets him out of it.

"Cameron. Cam."

His head hurts. His back hurts. He needs to get up and answer whoever's saying his name, but then again, moving seems like it'll likely also hurt.

Cold fingers stroke over his jaw. "Cam, I need you awake," a familiar voice wheedles. "Every two hours, remember? Need to make sure you don't have a brain bleed."

He grunts and shifts as he tries to remember why he would have a brain bleed, or put a name to the voice worrying over him. He catches a brief glimpse of Carolyn's face, soft brown eyes and dark hair falling over her face, before he's blinded by a flash of light.

Right. Evil superhuman. Getting thrown around by telekinesis all day. Being trapped on base for Carolyn's concussion protocol monitoring. Which means the brief light that's totally blinded him-- not to mention worsened his headache-- is her penlight.

"Pupils equal, round, and reactive?" he asks, his throat scratchy. He grins tiredly up at Carolyn at his show of field medicine he hasn't totally forgotten.

"You're a model patient," she confirms with a nod.

He rolls over to lay his head in her lap; she's sitting up against a pile of pillows that don't seem base-issue. "Thanks for letting me crash in your quarters, I wouldn't have gotten any sleep in the infirmary."

She hums. "And this way you're less likely to shoot whoever's waking you up for the two hour checks."

"You're too pretty to shoot," Cam agrees.

Her fingers are stroking down the back of his neck and over his shoulder, making him wish he wasn't wearing his t-shirt, so he could feel her hands on his skin. Then again, he's kind of cold.

"Why aren't we under the blankets?"

Carolyn giggles. "What, you don't remember sprawling out on top of all my blankets and then clinging to me like an octopus and declaring we just needed to-- what did you say? 'Pass the heck out already'?"

Cameron is glad it's too dark for her to see his blush. "Huh. Well, memory loss is a symptom of head injury."

"As long as it resolves within twelve hours, I'm not worried," she agrees. He hears her stifle a yawn and lifts his head.

"Blankets and then back to sleep?"

"For another two hours," she sighs. She has to get off the bed to pull back the duvet, and he misses the physical contact for the twenty seconds she's gone.

"Can I use you as a pillow?" he asks when she climbs back in and pulls the blankets over them.

He can see her smile as she kisses his forehead. Nobody's done that for him in a long, long time. "Of course," she answers easily.

Cam wraps his arms around her as he rests his head on her stomach. "You're amazing," he mumbles. "I might be in love with you."

"Oh, babe," Carolyn sighs, "come back to me when you're not concussed." And he guesses that's pretty fair.

"Mkay," he agrees. "G'night."

"Night, Cam."

At least when he wakes up in another two hours, he'll get to see her smile again.

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

double upload today because chapter 6 was written by the glorious @sga-owns-my-soul !!!! it was such a good gift I love her and her work so much I just can't even with how perfectly it works

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

Fic Title Ask

We Know Not What We May Be

A re-Ascended Daniel comes across Replicator Carter while she is still with Fifth, trying to prevent her from becoming what Fifth has made her. Since she cannot do anything to harm him, she listens to him. Daniel urges her to become someone other than what Sam and Fifth would have made her. She is frightened by the possibility, because from the first moment of her existence, she has been told what she is, not what she could be.

[cobalt-knave]

Have you all considered that i love her (Kira Meyers, Daniel's barista in dietcokechic's Barista Series)?????

[ekaterin1701]

This post prompted me to go back and leave comments on fics that I’d bookmarked and meant to leave a comment, but never got round to it. Some of the fics were published years ago, (I’ve been working my way back through the S/J fics) but I hope the authors will still see the comments!

someone I follow on the bird app just announced they're starting a very exclusive private fic server because they and a bunch of other people want to talk about how much they love the fics they're reading, and as an author can I just say that a really great place to talk about a fic you love is in the comments for that fic

I understand that people are trying to create safe spaces, but as the number of comments that I get on my fics dwindles with each passing year, knowing these spaces exist where my fics are being discussed, places that I am excluded from, makes me want to write fic LESS

I mean I guess who cares, right, because if I stop writing, there's 10,000 other people that will continue...but if you participate in a fic "book club" server and you say nice things there about a fic you loved, maybe copy and paste that into a comment on AO3?

the only thing fanfic writers are asking for in return for hours of hard work is attention. please don't rob us of the one thing that we hope for when we hit "post"

[ekaterin1701]

I’d taken a break from going through the Gateworld thread of Sam/ Jack fic recs, but went back to it this evening. There were a couple of pages of discussion about realism in pregnancy fics, which was interesting, but I really regretted reading one of the recommended stories as it just made me cringe.

It was set post Season 8, and Sam had just found out she was pregnant when Jack went missing on a diplomatic mission, in the format of a diary that she wrote while she was pregnant. The writing style was… out of character, to say the least. I knew I shouldn’t have tried it!

[sgwhattt]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stargate Atlantis Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Elizabeth Weir, Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, Kate Heightmeyer, Radek Zelenka Additional Tags: Humor, Comedy Summary:

“Wait,” Rodney says, snapping his fingers and blinking. “You were looking at porn, right? I totally caught you looking at porn!”

---

Currently reading this fic, only about 1/3 of the way through. It says the rating is explicit, sooo when I hit that part I’ll more than likely be skipping. Can’t speak for the rest of the story yet, but this is the kind of shenanigans I like. Slight spoilers, there is a sort of online Atlantis newspaper where anyone can place ads. You can imagine what kinds of ads might appear.

Will reblog or edit with an update!

EDIT: great fic! avoided the explicit section. silly shenanigans/pretense!

[ekaterin1701]

This made me laugh because I’ve been working my way through a long thread of Jack/ Sam fic recs on the Gateworld forum (the thread started in 2009), and have been quite entertained by the differences between the stories being recced (mostly on FF.net with some on LiveJournal or individual archives) and the S/J fics I’ve been reading on AO3.

In general, the FF.net fics are more likely to have long and chatty author’s notes (plus disclaimers/ no copyright infringement intended statements), while this isn’t really a thing on the AO3 fics. I don’t think it’s to do with the age of the fics, as early AO3 fics don’t have these things while FF.net fics from the same time do.

Thinking about it, I’m up to late 2010 in the thread and I haven’t seen any recommendations for fics posted on AO3.

I find it all gently fascinating. Does it show a difference in the quality of the fic posted on the different sites? I do think the quality of the FF.net stories is lower that the AO3 fics I’ve read, though there are some good ones. Or does it show that I’m reading a particular type of story on AO3? When I started reading S/J fics on AO3 last year, I’ve found stories by looking at the bookmarks that authors have on their profiles. So if I liked a story, I read the author’s other stories, then try stories they’ve bookmarked, and so on. It’s occurred to me that this could lead me to only read a particular type/ style of story, on the assumption that authors will like stories similar to their own work.

Anyway. It’s late and I’m tired, so I should give up on the fanfic musings and go to bed!

imagine if every chapter in a real book ended with an author's note

[hxans]

So, sometimes I look at my facebook memories, and today included one I originally posted in 2012

Got me all nostalgic for the Pegasus Tinies, and to my surprise when I clicked through that the photobucket hosted images were all still up and showing, especially since...

...the original post is 16 years old now.

And I still think about it every now and then.

[mushroom-through-the-stargate]

I live to concern stick

[silerismyblorbo]

Its been up a wee while now but go read my first (posted) sg1 fic :)

Words: 269

Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter/Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill/Teal'c

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Polyamory, Sunsets, Fluff

[ekaterin1701]

@the-mushroom-faerie Is this the Air BnB AU that you were thinking of?

au where jack, in an effort to try and book an air b&b, accidentally puts up his cabin as a potential open air b&b. he doesn’t realize his mistake until a few days later when a blonde, blue-eyed astrophysicist with legs for miles shows up on his doorstep, telescope strapped to her back and bags hanging off her shoulders, looking thoroughly confused. 

and jack swallows hard because she looks like something out of his dreams, sunlight haloing behind her, and eyes shining. he leans against the doorjamb, eyebrow raised. “can i help you?”

the mistake is explained and as embarrassed as he is, he likes the way she ducks her head to hide her smile at his confusion at the air b&b’s website, lips curling attractively. 

he rubs the back of his neck anxiously and musses his hair. she’s offered to drive the thirty miles back to town to find a hotel but he sees the way she looks longingly at the open expanse of trees alongside the cabin’s edge and there’s something about her that makes him want to take her hand and not let go. 

“aw, hell. carter, was it? carter, don’t go. look, i’ve got a spare room and if you don’t mind a roommate for the week, you’re more than welcome to stay.”

she hesitates for a moment, bottom lip between her teeth. he waves his beer bottle at her, “hey, no pressure. but i’m making omelettes for dinner and the fridge is stocked with beer and, uh, mi casa es su casa, home is where the heart is, a house is not a home, all those cliches and–”

“okay,” she interrupts with a smile. “i’ll stay.”

he grins at her, stomach doing strange swooping things he used to associate with flying f-18s and negative Gs. “swell.”

jack gives her space for the first few days, exchanging small talk and pleasantries over a few meals. for the most part, he works on laying down new planks on the porch and working outside. but at night, when sam sets up the telescope and pulls out her notebooks, he brings her out a steaming mug of coffee and she murmurs her thanks. he wants to stay, there’s something about her that draws him in, but he doesn’t want to make it awkward for her. 

but her hand wraps around his wrist and she smiles up at him and flashes another one of those stomach-swooping smiles at him. “stay?”

he takes a seat beside her and she explains that she wants to map stars and cosmic drift and he doesn’t understand half the terms she’s throwing out but he listens with rapt attention anyway, watching the way her pink lips wrap around vowels of words he doesn’t know and the way her eyes shine as bright as the stars she’s mapping. 

she notices he’s staring and her cheeks flush a pretty pink and she ducks her head, peering up at him through dark lashes. “what? is there something on my face or–”

and he reaches out and brushes the curve of her cheek with the pad of his finger. “just a splash of coffee.” they both know he’s lying; that he’s looking for an excuse to touch her. 

it’s a turning point in their week and they begin finding excuses to be with each other. sam helps him lay down the last few planks on the back porch and when they’re done, she gets a mischievous look in her eyes before she turns the hose on him, drenching him. he laughs and chases after her, following her squeals, grabbing her around the waist and sending them tumbling to the now-wet grass. 

they travel into town together to grab groceries and she teases him about the juxtaposition of shitty beer and gourmet steaks. he just looks pointedly at the frozen meals she added to the cart and she shrugs, “i’m an astrophysicist, not a chef.”

that night, he insists on teaching her how to at least boil water and she throws the butt-end of the zucchini she was chopping at his head. he laughs and grabs a couple of beers for them and the kitchen is suddenly filled with warmth and laughter in a way that jack has missed since his divorce, since he lost charlie. 

the end of the week is nearing and sam will be gone and the kitchen will be empty once more.

there’s a handful of times he wants to lean in an kiss the smile off her face. droplets of beer cling to her bottom lip, her cheeks flush and his stomach swoops, and at the end of the night when they’re washing dishes and he flicks suds at her, he wants to pin her to the countertop and press his hips against hers and kiss her. 

but she squeezes his forearm and brushes a kiss to his cheek and murmurs goodnight, slipping into the darkened hallway towards the spare bedroom. 

the rest of the week passes in a haze of melancholy and jack’s torn between wanting to spend every moment with her and lashing out and pushing her away so the hurt isn’t so strong when she leaves. 

and then it’s saturday night and her flight is in a few hours and she really, really needs to get back to her lab in colorado. except, except–

except jack is sitting stonily on the steps of the porch they worked together to build, nursing the shitty beer she made fun of him for, and doing his best impression of a wounded bear, dark eyes pleading silently with her, and she cannot make her feet move towards the car, can’t find the energy to pick up the bags and put them in the trunk.

she turns back toward him, “jack…” her voice carries and he stands and walks towards her, something in her voice drawing him near. 

his hands grab her shoulders and tug the bags free, hitting the ground with a thud. she steps closer, head tilted upwards. “i don’t want to go,” she confesses, eyes shining and fingers curling into the front of his shirt. 

“i don’t want you to go.” his voice rumbles through his chest and into her palms and she presses herself closer to him, face buried in his chest. his arms come up around her, holding her to him. his face drops to the crook of her neck, breathing her in–a scent he’s become familiar with in the short time he’s known her. and yet, he knows it’s the only thing he wants to smell–she is the only person he wants–for the rest of his life.

he tugs her back into the cabin, back into the warmth and promise of a life together, lips brushing along her jaw and cheek and lips. she gasps into his mouth and winds her arms around his neck and rolls her body against his, hips pressing to his. they stumble to the bedroom, nothing but the sound of wet lips sliding against each other and the sound of the other’s name echoing between the wood walls.

in the end, she misses her flight and makes a call to her lab. she’s got weeks of vacation to use and she plans to use every single second of it stowed away in this cabin until she and jack can figure something out.

in the meantime, she’ll spend the foreseeable future wrapped up in the warmth of jack o’neill’s arms, their nights spent cooking and stargazing and making love. 

(later, she gives his cabin a 5-star review as the best air b&b she’s ever stayed in.)

[runawaymarbles]

Sheppard's Law, by @cesperanza

Version 3 of the fic I bound for the Renegade Bindery gift exchange! (you can see speranza and @gempothospress's versions here)

I had a lot of fun typesetting this--I took the epitaph motif from the section titles and ran with it. I have never seen any form of Stargate, so thanks to cesperanza and @annerbhp for consulting. Other things I hadn't done before making these three books: cover cutouts, or foil.

"I don't know much about Stargate," said I, "so I'll just put a Stargate on the cover. Should be pretty straightforward." I then proceeded to learn that foil quills were not my friend, that the cricut foil head was finicky as hell (it works beautifully on bookcloth-- but not on leather or buckram,) and in the case of this particular edition, remember too late that unlike leather and buckram, you cannot wipe glue off bookcloth with water. I think I might start taping wax paper over my covers when I'm casing in so that I stop having this problem.

That being said, both the foil and the cutouts were kind of addicting. So I might end up sneaking them into more books where they may or may not belong.