wearemany
Fandoms
- Smallville (3)
- Stargate Atlantis (1)
- The X-Files (1)
- Everwood (1)
- Sports Night (1)
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Furlough (The "I've Got a Theory" Remix) by wearemany for Punk
Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, The X-Files
02 Apr 2007
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Mulder's got a stack of sketchy notes about Sheppard's gig, code named Atlantis.
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Clark needs boxing lessons like Lex needs a week at Wharton Business School.
This is an import from the Smallville Slash Archive, and kept to maintain the redirect link. We recommend reading the version we uploaded; it has more thorough tags and better formatting.
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Clark needs boxing lessons like Lex needs a week at Wharton Business School.
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Here is a drawing of a cow.
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It's hard to do this one-handed.
Recent bookmarks
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It’s the spring of ‘97 when Michael Robinavitch is dragged into a gay bar for the very first time.
When he meets Jack Abbot there, the two of them are on the cusp of radically different futures: Robby is about to begin his residency, and Jack is leaving for the army. They know better than to get attached - know the timing is wrong, the goodbye inevitable - but something tender takes root anyway. Through every deployment, Jack thinks of Robby more than he ought to; through every failed relationship, Robby wonders about what might've been.
Years later, when their paths cross again at PTMC, the past resurfaces — and though they’re older, more jaded, and scarred in different ways, they find themselves pulled towards everything they left unfinished.
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Bookmarked by wearemany
19 Feb 2026
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Shane loves yoga. It has always been an escape for him—an escape from his body and his mind. When a bunch of other NHL players interrupt him in a hotel gym during a conference, he is not surprised when they make fun of him, but he is surprised when Ilya asks him to teach them a few poses and they all go along with it. He gets to show off his flexibility, and it seems harmless enough to show off a little extra for Ilya, until-
“Holy shit, Hollander, wait—can you suck your own cock?”
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- English
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- 10,243
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Bookmarked by wearemany
03 Jan 2026
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if that isn’t love, it’ll have to do by phlegmatic
Fandoms: Masters of the Air (TV 2024)
10 Aug 2025
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“You’ll manage, Bucky,” Gale says before he can think better of it, and when John looks up at him with eyes wet and glistening, he wishes he could take it back. Maybe not just the cold, then.
“I’ll manage?” He sounds level at least, hot drunk but no different to normal. A little edge, a little rasp.
“Without ‘im. I know it’ll be—But you’ll manage.” John’s answering scoff has a meanness in it, and he does look down again, but thankfully he doesn’t stop walking.
“I’ll manage. Yeah, I’ll manage. I’ll manage without him, because I managed before, that right?”
“That’s right.” Gale’s murmuring again, and you don’t grow up in Wyoming without learning how to soothe a horse, and somehow that’s the voice he’s using right now. Tempted, even, to soothe like he would a horse: hand rubbed broad along John’s flank, cupping his neck like he’d cupped Gale in the pub, rubbing solid and firm. Might quiet those jitters, still jittering even though John’s trudging along with his sight on the ground, trying to sniff away his wet eyes.
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In the aftermath of Curtis' death, Bucky struggles to grieve. Gale struggles to help him.
Finding each other, in four parts.Bookmarked by wearemany
12 Aug 2025
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"Man, you're like something out of Les Mis right now," Jack drawled, flicking his eyes over him pointedly. "And look, I know Collins is one-of-a-kind and all, but it wasn't great at the end there," Robby took a breath to say something, so Jack held out a hand, "don't argue, you know I'm right. So I say we do something to slam you back in your body and remind you that good things exist and you should have them."
Robby just blinked at him, brown eyes wide and startled. "And your solution is we roll around in bed with a woman you just met. The three of us. Together," he added, like he wanted to be real clear on what they were talking about.
Bookmarked by wearemany
20 May 2025
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Jack had just stepped back onto the main floor when he clocked movement at the ambulance entrance, two guys hurrying in, the smaller one helping a guy with a sweatshirt covered in blood. But something was wrong, some unnamable instinct rising within Jack at the way they moved. It was too fluid, too controlled. Jack knew what the walking wounded looked like, had seen it for years, from war zones to bar fights. This wasn't the injured seeking help; this was men hunting.
Time slowed, Jack's heart rate spiking, the adrenaline dump casting everything in sharp relief—the full ED floor, patients plus shift change meaning twice the usual personnel were here.
Robby was here.
That thought got him moving, Jack approaching laterally. He got there right as the guns came out.
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- English
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Bookmarked by wearemany
17 May 2025