Sam Carter /Jack O'Neill Ship Appreciation Thread 2.0

[IamDKScully]

[Amara D'Angeli]

clipped…

How do you write your stories? Do you actually sit down beforehand and plan everything out?

Kimberley, have you taken a look at the fanfiction subforum here on GW? There are all kinds of threads about writing (from proper spelling/grammar/punctuation, brainstorming and writing styles to pet peeves, sprinting and the virtual water cooler) where a bunch of fanfic writers (and some readers) hang out and discuss writing or troubles they encounter. I don't recall seeing you there but I could have overlooked you... Anyway, thought you might find it interesting and it would probably be a better place to discuss these things (Amara hangs out there as well) than in the ship appreciation thread.

fems is absolutely right! I've answered your question at the Water Cooler.

[Nolamom]

[Amara D'Angeli]

It's almost Valenship!!! (And I'm awake-ish…for the moment.)

[A. Karswyll]

Also awake-ish for the moment...

*waits to begin ship celebration*

[IamDKScully]

Literally waiting to press the button...

[A. Karswyll]

One minute...

[A. Karswyll]

Party time! Time to celebrate the love of Jack and Sam!

*hops over to Valenship thread*

[Pol]

Linky?

Party time! Time to celebrate the love of Jack and Sam!

*hops over to Valenship thread*

[IamDKScully]

The Valenship Thread is now OPEN!


By neverendingimagination

Stop on by and join the FUN!

[Pol]

Here's the link for those who need it.

Valenship Thread

[FanGirl]

http://i577.photobucket.com/albums/ss213/theicemenace/RDA/images4_zps0cd14595.jpg

FYI - I didn't make this art. Found it on the Internet.

[fems]

Scully, the link you've posted in all the threads (and this one) isn't working. It redirects to a blank page. Pol's is fine.

[XFchemist]

I missed almost all the party yesterday but I still don't feel too well.
I hope the aspirin helps me and maybe later I can write another drabble.

I posted this yesterday on the Valenship thread. Muse is stuck with angsty UST...

Prompt 3: poetry

Spoiler:

It was a Sunday evening and Jack O’Neill was restlessly pacing around in Carter’s living room. It was their last weekend of forced leave after their ordeal on PR3-118. They had decided to have a team night and since his house had problems to the heating system – kinda ironic – Carter had offered to host it.
PR3-118. The damn frozen planet where he had been Jonah, a simple miner who could freely show his interest for Thera without risking a court-martial. Whatever relationship would have developed between them had been interrupted though and starting from next Monday they would be back to Sir and Carter.
Sir. He had never hated that word so much like he did on that planet. And this mess had happened only some months after their confessions during the Zatar’c testing. So here he was in Carter’s house waiting for her and Daniel to come back from the little bakery around the corner with a cake, while Teal’c was busy in the kitchen preparing a salad.
He didn’t want to snoop around but he didn’t want to stay near the Jaffa either. Not that Teal’c would have questioned him about the current tense situation between him and his 2IC but Jack knew the Jaffa could easily see through him. He just needed another couple of days to lock this event in that famous we-don’t-talk-about-it room too.

He was standing in front of Sam’s bookcase checking if her books were sorted in alphabetic order when one of them caught his attention. It was an old collection of Emily Dickinson’s poems and it seemed she hurryingly put it back in place since it still was out of alignment. Feeling a little guilty he picked it up and opened it. A dried flower worked as bookmark. He was pretty sure it was the orchid branch he had given her the year before. Spots that looked like dried teardrops stained the page.

He read the poem.

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there was
A time when it was not.
It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.


Apparently his 2IC had been more affected by the recent events than he thought.
He flipped through the pages of the book until he found what he was looking for. Nobody was aware of his deep knowledge of modern American poetry. He’d never live it down if anyone ever found out. Especially if Daniel discovered it.
He hoped the poem he had chosen would help Sam.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

He positioned the flower over the new page, closed the book and put it back in its place. He wondered if Sam would notice the bookmark’s shift and understand he was responsible for it. Or maybe she would never open that book again and his action would be just another lost opportunity between them.

[Nolamom]

Like Chemmy, I missed most of the party...migraine has a pretty strong grip on me this weekend.