#compliments the fic so well

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm very excited for more content of your lights out au, I'm so eager to see just how good you can get at writing/creating angst!

oh babey. thats where i Shine.

[fallowtail]

fighting for my life to try and get back into the groove of commenting on fics instead of just leaving kudos like a loser but the depression adhd brainfog is so severe i'm barely managing to read the fics in the first place. aughh god i am such a bad friend/supporter

[bearlytolerant]

Sooooo, are you still taking writing prompts? What about a Starborn PC (aka Shephard) heading into Nishina station and Sam can’t figure out what the hell she’s so worried about? I’m heading in there NG 6 and it’s just such emotional whiplash, depending on how you play. Sweet Jesus, the angst/comfort/smut potential….😁

Love your fics so much, thanks for sharing!

Fandom: Starfield

Pairing: Sam Coe x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2135

🌟Note: Contains Main Story Spoilers🌟

the world can wait

You’ve done this before. More than once. It’s not complicated but it is tedious. Worth it to save both realities again and again. Shifting between the sterilized facility with robot defenses and its survival horror counterpart, complete with alien monstrosities. You make quick work of it all, overriding the obstacles blocking your way to get to the lab. To the artifact.

Only this time, Raphael’s body in the sterilized reality doesn’t contain the slate that’s needed to save everyone. Padding him down, you check every pocket, sleeve, boot, anything you can find. But there’s nothing.

“Shit, Raph, where’d you put the damn slate?” The search spreads wider.

You rifle through lockers and under desks and chairs. You even check the bathroom. Maybe he dropped it behind the toilet? But it’s nowhere to be found and time is ticking. Shifting back to the reality colored apocalyptic horror, you find Raphael, alive and well.

“Hey, do you have the slate?”

“What slate?” he asks and his confusion has your stomach in knots.

“The one with the degaussing instructions.”

“I don't have that.”

If only you��d taken time to memorize it. The regret pools in your gut. Learning the hard way, again.

With a sigh, you thank him and head back to the sterilized reality. At the very least, you can save this version. But new questions arise in your head with the turn of events. Is it a mercy to leave Raph, protecting him from the crushing weight of being a sole survivor? Or will he slowly starve to death, coming back for you in another universe, angry and vengeful?

There’s no time to dwell. You make your choice. Scientists over Raphael.

You disengage every power interlock as quickly as you can. Power down the central control and grab the artifact.

Spinning and swirling and swimming in a sea of stars, the unity touches your mind, showing you the latest thread spun in your particular tapestry of fate.

You wake up, only one thing on your mind.

Sam.

Did this new decision cause a disruption or a disconnect? Will you leave Nishima and find him standing just outside the facility where he said he’ll be?

How badly is this world fucked?

Panic rises, festering and oozing out through your sweating palms. You fret and fumble, stumbling your way back to the main entrance. You don’t even bother to check up on the scientists. They’re obviously fine. Their thank yous roll off your back as you pass them by. You see the exit.

The door hisses and it feels like an eternity before they pull apart enough for you to squeeze through, eyes searching for the place he should be.

“Sam?” You call, your voice dry, rough and cracked.

But he’s not where you left him.

Your heart races. You’re mumbling “no” under your breath, over and over again, like a penitent sinner. Pleading with the heavens, and bargaining with the stars.

“Sam!” You scream.

His name is a choked back sob burning at the back of your throat.

“You better be here,” you croak, eyes searching the horizon and all the places around you.

He shouldn’t be back at the ship but what if he is? What if he’s safe? A glimmer of hope. You need to see. Need to know.

You take another step forward, the tears drying as you tell yourself that he’ll be there.

But then that little worm named worry inches in, whispering to you, what if he isn’t? Then you’ll have to explain to your crew mates. Explain to Cora.

Oh, no—Cora.

You slump to your knees, the voice of worry growing louder. A cacophony of horrible what-ifs brings your heart rate up so high your hands are shaking. You can’t go back to the ship without him. You can’t—you won’t. You know you haven’t searched everywhere. There's one last place before you’ll give in and go to the ship, to face whatever might be waiting there. So you turn around, retracing your steps back to the facility, heading up the stairs and toward the cliff edge. You pass by a tree on the right and pause to watch as the sky awakens in an ambient peach glow. It’s beautiful but it’s not Sam. You hang your head, hopeless.

“Oh Sam,” you whisper to yourself. “Where are you?”

A hand on your shoulder has you reeling around, gun in your hand.

“Whoa, whoa! You alright there, darlin,?”

Sam.

He’s okay. He’s okay! The weight lifts off you and just one look into his baby blues is enough to carry you down from that panic driven high.The air is breathable again as you toss your gun aside, throwing your arms around Sam’s neck. You cling to him, fingers grasping at the bare skin of the back of his neck, tears flowing freely down your face. “Where were you? I looked everywhere and you weren’t—you weren’t—“

Then your hands are on his cheeks, fingers to his lips as your eyes map out the entirety of his face. You wrap your arms around his midsection and squeeze, ear pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum inside your head.

He holds you tight, smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Shh, I’m right here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Again.

“You haven’t lost me,” he says. “I’m here.”

He gently removes your hands from his neck and holds them, studying your face.

You grasp his hands tightly, and bring them to your lips. One kiss for each knuckle and one kiss for each scar. Then you flip his palms over and kiss those too.

The lines of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. “You okay? Need to talk about what happened in there?”

You shake your head. You’d rather forget it all.

“I just—I need you.”

“Okay,” he says in his familiar and calming drawl. He presses his lips to your forehead. “Okay.”

You lift your chin, searching his eyes. Drink up his soft and gentle smile. Then you kiss him. Deep and devoted. His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roving your body, urgent and insatiable.

You back him against the nearby tree, out of sight for anyone that might come along. No one will, though. You’re confident of that. It’s just you and him and the wide expanse of land meeting sky embracing the two of you in a morning haze.

Your fingers are undoing his belt buckle and his hands slide up your back, to your shoulders and then cup your face. His eyes are askance of your audience.

“We don’t—you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not a matter of obligation. But of want. Of need,” you tell him.

It’s a matter of finding some solace in the sighs you can invoke. You want to hear him, revere him, touch him. Immerse the entirety of your essence in him.

“Who am I to protest then?” he says with a chuckle.

How you’ve missed that. Missed him. Those few moments without him were just minutes but felt like days—no millennia.

His belt buckle loosens. Button unsnaps.

You relish in the soft zip mixed with the quiet hush of wind at your ear, kneeling before him as the supplicant pilgrim. He’s already shirking out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground beside you. Your fingers inch under the hem of his shirt, exploring the skin of his body and brushing over the hair of his belly. Sprawling hands out to his sides, finger pads pressing into the black inked tattoos, you rest your forehead against him.

Three deep breaths and you’re grounded for a moment.

One of his hands pets your head, soothing and calming before you press your lips to his belly button. Plant a plush path of kisses down to the elastic of his boxer briefs. Then you dip your hand past the band, tugging, and freeing his cock. Gently you massage his balls, while wrapping your other hand around his length. You pump once, careful not to pull the sensitive skin.

He murmurs something sweet, calls you darlin’ as you slide your hand down his shaft. You lick your lips as you eye his excited cock, bobbing slightly and eager. You kiss the veins and make use of your tongue, testing and tasting. Having a bit of fun.

With satisfaction, you envelope him with your lips.

He shudders under the sudden shock of warmth from your mouth; a flood of sensations to his nerves. You draw him in deeper, massaging him as you delight in his tip touching the back of your throat. You pull free, with a smack of tongue to lips while releasing his balls. A string of saliva catches fractals of light as you swipe it from your bottom lip, glancing up to meet his adoring eyes.

“You’re a sight to behold,” he says, voice deep and gravelly.

He doesn’t realize that he’s the true sight to behold. But you will show him. Show him that he’s all that and more.

You close your eyes, those words washing away all that worry. Lips pressed to his tip, you open your mouth wider to be filled with the entirety of him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck. Your other hand, snaking around his ass and gripping, steadies you as he hisses a profanity.

His hand has slipped from your head to the back of your neck where he holds you tenderly. Though his cock twitches and hips jerk, begging to thrust, he remains self-controlled.

Your own arousal heightens under his strained moans and self suffocated cries. And you take more of him. More of those muffled sounds and praises that keep tumbling out of his mouth with every lick of your tongue. Every languid drag.

You quicken the pace, driven by the urge to please him and a bit of precum spills. You withdraw, lapping it up with a lewd swipe of your tongue.

Stealing another glance up at him, his eyes are closed, head falling back against the tree bark and that self control wavers with a desperate, “please,” and squeeze of your neck.

You oblige happily, losing yourself to his shudders and sighs. Ravishing his length in your mouth, setting a rhythm that pushes him to the precipice, guides him to the edge. His nails dig into your shoulder as you draw him in and out of your mouth. One great sigh and the grip of his hand loosens. Salt and warmth slide down your throat and you still your lips, gently sucking the remainder of his spend.

You swallow each and every last drop. With one last suck before release, his hands pull you away, drawing you up to his lips as he bends over you. Kisses you, urgent and besotted. After a few moments lost in the taste of one another, you break apart. Breathless. Come together again in a desperate embrace. Suspended in time, the sky brightens to almost blinding within the next hour. You never want to let him go. But the others will start to wonder. Unless—

“We should get back,” you say. “We need to check on the others.”

“Why?” Sam asks, tucking himself away and adjusting his pants. He buckles his belt.

“I had to do things differently this time—in Nishina. It’s why I was so worried I couldn’t find you. I was terrified something happened and—what if that something happened to the others—to Cora.” There’s that little flutter of panic again.

“Shh,” he says, pulling you back against his chest. “They’re alright,” he reassures.

“How do you know?”

He pulls away, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “I’ve already checked in on them through the comms. They’re okay. We’re all okay.”

You can feel the moisture in the corner of your eye but you wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your forehead, then your cheek. Finally your lips. “Immensely and totally.”

And you know this in every fiber of your being but it is a relief to have it spoken. After everything.

You snatch up his jacket from the ground and dust it off. Hold it open as he stuffs an arm in, shirking it back on. Taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it once.

“I love you Sam Coe, and when we get to a quieter place, I’m going to spend a whole day showing you just how much.”

“Holding me hostage for a day, then?”

“Make that a week.”

With a chuckle and squeeze of your hand, he says, “I’m all yours, darlin’.”

And together you find your way back to the ship.

[the-one-who-lambs]

Me: I don't know if my ideas are worth sharing, I'm losing engagement from my readerbase these past few months so I must be doing something wrong, I don't think I've really accomplished anything as a writer.

Some person in my AO3 comments hyped as FUCK for the Risen Lamb/Fallen God rewrite:

[delizbin]

I am new to the Haymitch/Effie world but I’ve discovered your blog and art and I am THRIVING! Looove your art style 😍 pray tell could you spare a link to the 116 chapter fic you keep mentioning in your tags?

Hi! First of all, thank you and welcome to the Hayffie parade!

I will do more than spare the 116 fic link, I’ll spare a total of 3 links of long fics that made me scream, cry and kick my feet in the air like a fifteen years old still! :)

(Links below the line)

• The first one is Invictus, the famous 116 chapters ones, by EllenaSan.

It’s set in a parallel scenario where Haymitch’s family survived and how that changes everything (or does it?)

I loved it, it’s so cozy and well written, I was so into it I got fond of the original characters as well. It’s so good, give it a try you won’t regret it.

Status: finished

• The second one is Don’t F*ck Your Co-Workers by WhimofaVim.

I’m obsessed. It’s a slow SLOW burn that is so perfectly balanced between comody and drama , real rom-com vibes at times.

The characters are so well written, and not just the main ones, there’s a really great attention to details here. I love the other victors and how present they are here… CECILIA!!!

Set in a universe where Lucy Gray actually doesn’t disappear but is forced to be a mentor, she’s a real badass and her relationship with Haymitch is just adorable.

Status: Currently at chapter 57 and still going (and still screaming over the last update)

Kudos for the chapter names, they’re genius

• Last but not least, the one I’m currently reading (and LOVING) , Mind Wipe (this also) from EllanaSan (I’m just so fond of their writing style).

It follows the book canon where Effie has been imprisoned by the Capitol, but here, contrary to the book, she actually gets rescued with Peeta and the others by District 13… but she’s not her old self anymore (quite literally).

Status: finished

[hella1975]

not someone commenting on tams to tell me to update taob. what if you fucked off forever

[tethered-heartstrings]

hey, i just wanted to let you know that i absolutely adore your fics. i just finished a little gold goes a long way and i absolutely loved it. i cant wait to read more of your stuff. youre such a great writer <3

hiii!! thank you so much <333 omg you're amazing ty for the compliment <3

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[roomwithanopenfire]

i always feel so special when someone who's left the occasional short comment on the occasional chapter of my fic, leaves a longer comment for once and just gushes about the chapter. this has happened to me twice on this fic so far and i always feel so accomplished

[raayllum]

& i will say, one of the things i love most about writing with @thosefiveadoraburrs is that characterization wise, we got all our bases covered. i relate to callum the most yet have rayla has my favourite. they relate to rayla the most yet have callum as their favourite. any aspects of callum i don’t relate to (mostly his selective loyalty and skepticism) are things they relate to; any aspects of rayla they don’t relate to (mostly being so governed by morality / impulsivity) are aspects of her i relate to. it makes writing either of them very very easy 

[purple--queen]

If Kamala don’t say “This is like that one Fanfic i wrote”, while fighting something, then what is even the point of The Marvels

[ezralva]

My reaction when reading the second comment by anon 🤣

OOT: gawdd I wish I can laugh as elegant and beautiful as this man!!!

Back to topic: I wasn't aware of this comment till I opened my inbox but I read anon's other comments in my other fics and I get that they meant well. While I sorta get where they're coming from for this one cz in fact this isn't the 1st time someone had pointed out a similar thing to me, and despite that this is not my ship, let's remember that it's basic decency not to trash others' ships or preferences, let alone others' works 😊 Besides, my work is mine, my headcanons are mine, free from others' influences. I couldn't care less how most of this ship's fans wanted them to be/perceived. It's got nothing to do w/ me so don't associate me or my fic to whoever or any other aspects in that ship. I wrote whatever my brain wanted. And remember that curiosity kills the cat, which is why if I were anon I'd never bother to look at tags or things that I dislike lmao

[sysig]

Ehehehehe

Can do, me

[meownotgood]

i have been someone who has dreamed of becoming a reasonable author for almost all my life, i’ve only taken an inspiration from maybe 1 or 2 writers, but wow, seeing your works and seeing the small little tidbits you add to your blog in between of the progress you’ve made on future stories truly makes me want to get up from where i’m seated and write a novel, i love the way you word scenarios and i genuinely can see how much you put into your stories, the dedication and the heartfelt words make it more than just an x reader to me, the hours you put into revising and thinking of new details to what you write has definitely paid off well, i want you to know that your work is extremely valuable and inspiring, i wholeheartedly wish that i will be able to write the way you do soon

from an anonymous asker who deeply adores your work, thank you!

anon... thank you so much... I'm so happy you think so... you're the one who makes me want to get up and write, your words mean everything to me 🤲💗

[helianskies]

helia how do you always end up giving me prompts that provide suck strong brainrot.

Bro this is fuelling the brainrot for that long ass fic about rome hELP ME NOT AGAIN

Bro watch this ain't going to be shorter than 7k

:)

[padfootastic]

every time someone says they enjoy my pointless slice of life fics, i do a little squeal run because!!! yes!!! that’s my target audience. i don’t like taking anything serious in my ff and just want my characters happy, loving their best lives, and whenever someone appreciates that, i’m just 🥺🥺🥰🥰