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stargateficrec2025-05-26 01:42 pm
goddess47) wrote in stargateficrec2025-05-26 01:42 pm
Stupid Men and Dresses, by QAkasha (G)
Subject Line: Stupid Men and Dresses, by QAkasha (PG)
Show: SG-1
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters: Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter
Pairings: Jack O'Neill/Samantha Carter
Categories: het, miscommunication, first person POV
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1500
Author on DW: none found
Author's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: Stupid Men and Dresses
Author's Summary:
AU: Our dynamic shippy duo are stuck in a seemingly never-ending mission after Sam overreacts over something Jack did resulting in nearly 10 days of no personal contact... how are they going to survive??
Why This Must Be Read:
Just a fun ficlet where Jack is all "what did I do?" but needs Sam to help them out of their current dilemma.
It's part of Akamaimom's 'Tuesday Museday' (link in the fic) where she posts a weekly Sam/Jack pic so folk can write stories about it.
“Got to wonder why they didn't put us in the brig.” I muttered with a little more snark than I had intended, but since one of my team was brainwashed – again – and I’d been without my own version of stress relief for the better part of a week which was fast becoming ten days because this mission just – would – not – end… and…
…and Carter was still pissed.
About what… well, I honestly didn’t know other than I must have said or done something considered taboo.
There was a book I read once… in my youth… well OK, not my youth youth, more like my ‘not-as-old-as-I-was-now’ youth. A book gifted to me by my ex-wife and when I say gifted, I really mean slammed down on the kitchen table before she marched out the door to take Charlie to school gifted.
‘Stupid things men do’ or something like that.
Things like, not hanging up the bath towel, not cleaning whisker laden shaving cream remnants out of the bathroom basin, not putting down the toilet seat, dick jokes, fart jokes, dutch ovens, not wiping up excess water off the kitchen bench, flinging bottle caps across the room… the list was really endless. So I stopped reading it, consigned the book to the back of my bookcase and my mind then adopted the ‘I’m really sorry, honey’ method.
I probably should have read the stupid book more thoroughly to save me from the weeks (and weeks) of grovelling needed to get myself out of the doghouse and back into the good graces of my wife where I could once again enjoy the fruits of her lingerie drawer and everything that went with that.
Show: SG-1
Rec Category: Jack O'Neill
Characters: Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter
Pairings: Jack O'Neill/Samantha Carter
Categories: het, miscommunication, first person POV
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1500
Author on DW: none found
Author's Website: AO3 Profile
Link: Stupid Men and Dresses
Author's Summary:
AU: Our dynamic shippy duo are stuck in a seemingly never-ending mission after Sam overreacts over something Jack did resulting in nearly 10 days of no personal contact... how are they going to survive??
Why This Must Be Read:
Just a fun ficlet where Jack is all "what did I do?" but needs Sam to help them out of their current dilemma.
It's part of Akamaimom's 'Tuesday Museday' (link in the fic) where she posts a weekly Sam/Jack pic so folk can write stories about it.
“Got to wonder why they didn't put us in the brig.” I muttered with a little more snark than I had intended, but since one of my team was brainwashed – again – and I’d been without my own version of stress relief for the better part of a week which was fast becoming ten days because this mission just – would – not – end… and…
…and Carter was still pissed.
About what… well, I honestly didn’t know other than I must have said or done something considered taboo.
There was a book I read once… in my youth… well OK, not my youth youth, more like my ‘not-as-old-as-I-was-now’ youth. A book gifted to me by my ex-wife and when I say gifted, I really mean slammed down on the kitchen table before she marched out the door to take Charlie to school gifted.
‘Stupid things men do’ or something like that.
Things like, not hanging up the bath towel, not cleaning whisker laden shaving cream remnants out of the bathroom basin, not putting down the toilet seat, dick jokes, fart jokes, dutch ovens, not wiping up excess water off the kitchen bench, flinging bottle caps across the room… the list was really endless. So I stopped reading it, consigned the book to the back of my bookcase and my mind then adopted the ‘I’m really sorry, honey’ method.
I probably should have read the stupid book more thoroughly to save me from the weeks (and weeks) of grovelling needed to get myself out of the doghouse and back into the good graces of my wife where I could once again enjoy the fruits of her lingerie drawer and everything that went with that.