Stargate SG-1 textposts 3/?

#extradirty
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
occasionally subtle
KIROKAZE

JBB: An Artblog!
Claire Keane
Sade Olutola
NASA

Kiana Khansmith
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
🪼
One Nice Bug Per Day
will byers stan first human second
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Keni
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@jainaraesolo
Stargate SG-1 textposts 3/?
[no beers in] do you think im ever going to belong somewhere
Every once in a while I'm struck by the fact that the early seasons of SG-1 took place in the late 90's, and what tech was and wasn't available, all of which is to say I 100% believe Teal'c had a LiveJournal account and was moderator of at least one Star Wars fan forum.
you should be able to say “fuck if i know” to customers
Whats wrong, you barely touched your pellets
I need a mix of wet and dry food.
What the fuck. You talk?
B'ELANNA TORRES star trek: voyager | real life
men and women are not opposites. men and women are not enemies. men and women are two parts of a broad coalition which fights against a mutual enemy: inkjet printers
Happy Ides of March!
Reblog and add your own knife to stab Caesar
so excited to hang out with my pal Brutus today and like 22 other people!
I didn’t know he had that many friends it’s so exciting!
shit shit shit it's march i forgot to promote this print to yall:
read it carefully lol it's the callout of Caesar
i should emphasize, I did NOT write the original post, that was done by @heresmyfiddlestick and they get a cut of the sales from these prints.
I'm not sure how to format image IDs when they're this long so I hope this is right:
[image ID: A sheet of calligraphy print with gold and purple vinework and red daggerlike flowers. In the border there is a torn, purple lined bit of cloth meant to read as a toga and there it begins with a large drop capital F in red. the text reads as follows
Friends, mutuals, countrymen, do not scroll past;
I come to cancel Caesar, not to stan him.
The cringe posts that men make live after them;
The nuance oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was problematic:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men–
Come I to comment on Caesar’s call-out post.
He was my mutual, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was problematic;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many hot takes to my dash
Whose notifs did the general discourse fill:
Did this in Caesar seem problematic?
When that anons have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Toxicity should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was problematic;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Tumblr Blaze
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this problematic?
Yet Brutus says he was problematic;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to start discourse with Brutus,
But just to provide some context on his call-out post.
You all did stan him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to follow him?
/.End ID]
somebuggy
i aint the snuggest bug in the bed
John Interrupts Sunday
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Relationship: Elizabeth Weir x John Sheppard
Summary: Elizabeth Weir is working on her day off, as she has been doing every Sunday since arriving in Atlantis, when a surprise interruption draws her attention into the oldest parts of Atlantis.
Beta by @odakota-rose
Sunday in Atlantis had a different rhythm. There were fewer alarms, fewer boots in the corridors. The lights seemed warmer somehow, though Elizabeth knew that was probably her imagination—the city's systems didn't actually change on weekends. Still, the hum of power beneath the floors felt less insistent, as if Atlantis itself understood the concept of rest, even if the people living inside it rarely did.
Elizabeth sat alone at her desk, sleeves pushed to her elbows. She'd pinned her hair back an hour ago without bothering with a mirror, twisting it up one-handed when the curls started bothering her neck. Her fingers found the clip now, testing it, making sure it would hold. The report on her screen wasn't urgent, wasn't flagged, wasn't due. She scrolled down anyway, highlighting a sentence, then deleting the note she'd just made. No one was waiting on her decision. But they would be, eventually. The city had a way of collecting debts. If she stayed ahead, just a little, she could almost convince herself she was in control.
She scrolled back up and started reading the same paragraph again when a shadow crossed the threshold of her office.
Elizabeth looked up. Her shoulders straightened automatically, chin lifting slightly, the small adjustments that meant someone needed her attention. Leadership, settling into place like muscle memory. Mike Branton stood in her doorway, weight shifted to one hip, like someone who'd rehearsed this moment and still hadn't found a version that fit comfortably. He wasn't in uniform. The civilian clothes—dark jeans, a shirt that was almost too casual for Atlantis—made him look unfinished somehow, caught between roles.
"Elizabeth," he said. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Mr. Branton." Elizabeth closed the laptop. Whatever she'd been using the work to avoid could wait. If he'd come all this way on a Sunday, the least she could do was be present.
"Please call me: Mike."
He lingered in the doorway a moment longer than necessary, and Elizabeth recognized the hesitation; she'd seen it in enough diplomatic negotiations to know when someone was working up to something difficult.
"Mike," she said, gesturing for him to come into her office. He shifted his weight, took a breath she could see in the rise of his chest.
"So," he began, then stopped. His hand came up, rubbed the back of his neck—a tell she'd noticed before, usually right before he had to admit a project was behind schedule. "I know this probably isn't the best timing."
Elizabeth leaned back slightly in her chair, buying herself a moment, fingers lacing loosely in her lap in a pose that looked relaxed but felt like armor. "There's rarely a perfect one," she said, keeping her voice gentle even as something in her stomach began to sink. "What's on your mind?"
Keep Reading on AO3
We’re delighted to announce Catch A Spark!
This is a low-stakes exchange for John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir fans who can’t wait a full year for the next Sparktober! All creators are welcome, regardless of level of experience or how long you've been Sparky fans.
Quick Information
What You'll Exchange
Fanfic: one complete standalone fic, minimum of 500 words
Fan art: one original, finished work on unlined background (manips are okay for treats but do not fulfill your assignment)
GIF set: minimum of 2 complex GIFs (overlaying multiple scenes, adding thematic quotes etc.) OR 4 simple ones (maybe recoloured, and/or captioned, but otherwise visually the same as canon)
The Key Dates
Sign ups open: March 1, 2026 Sign ups close: March 15, 2026 Assignments out: March 22, 2026 Fanworks Due: May 3, 2026 Works Revealed: May 10, 2026 Creators Revealed: May 17, 2026
All deadlines are at 9am UTC
Full information and guidelines can be found at the AO3 collection.
REBELCAPTAIN SOLSTICE SWAP 2025 - gift for @happydragon
Years after Endor, Jyn and Cassian are trying to find their place in the galaxy. After working for the New Republic for a while, they decided to get a ship and travel through the galaxy until they found a beautiful planet on the outer rim where they built a house.
They’re not used to staying on the same place for a long time but they’re trying to rest. They have each other and now they can finally live in peace and not only survive, having time to do things they couldn’t afford before.
Spending their time in their new house and working with repairing droids, they find a new rhythm in their lives (K2 is also there to “make sure they don’t do anything stupid”). It’s not perfect, after all they’re two people who have been through so much, but being together means they’ll always be home no matter where they go.
Gröning proposed the idea for the film to the monks in 1984, but the Carthusians said they wanted time to think about it. They responded to him 16 years later to say they were willing to permit him to shoot the movie if he was still interested.
into great silence
Any way, things to try and do to make some noise about this.
Call Discord at 888-594-0085. All I had to do was stay on the line and leave a voice mail.
File a support ticket with discord. This will require you to create an account separate from your discord account.
If you have Nitro, CANCEL IT.
File a complaint with the California Privacy Protection Agency. You do not need to live in California to do this. I personally checked off "Right to Opt-out of Sale/Sharing" "Right to Limit the Use of My Sensitive Personal Information" "A business’s collection, use, storing or sharing of my personal information" and "Children's privacy" because like FUCK would they not be getting that in their efforts to protect them. When they asked for evidence of privacy violations, I shared the Discord press release.
It's also worth mentioning that Discord is headquartered in California.
If you live in a European country, this webpage has a list of all the countries so you can find yours and file a privacy complaint.
Canadians can file a complaint with the Privacy Commissioner. I've been informed this is likely not to be helpful due to the restrictions of the businesses the Privacy Commissioner actually has authority over.